I Spy, Part II

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“Huh,” I said when my computer pinged a Facebook message. “Hmm?” my husband grunted from the coach, still engrossed by the game. “I just got a Facebook message from some guy I used to know in college.””Huh,” Bryan replied, disinterested. A few moments passed, and then he said, “When you say, a guy you used to ‘know,’ do you mean like a guy you knew or a guy you knew knew?”I smiled. I love my husband, and I’ve never held back my sexual past from him. In fact, that’s one of the reasons I love him. I spent most of high school and college on a wild sexual tear. Most of the guys I’d ever gotten serious with had freaked out when I told them about how many guys I’d been with (sometimes all at once). Turns out, most guys want a girlfriend that’s slutty for them, but lose their shit when they hear about the first time you let a bunch of guys run a train on you. Go figure. But Bryan wasn’t like that. When we’d started getting serious, I had slowly started to leak my sexual history with him and it never seemed to bother him. I remember how nervous I’d been the first time I told him about giving a blowjob to some random stranger at a bar, or when I got gangbanged visiting a friend in college. I remember thinking, “This next one is going to be the one where he throws his hands up and walks out.” But it never happened. Eventually, he must have realized what I was doing and told me straight out that he didn’t care how many guys I’d fucked, and that he loved me for who I was. “A guy I knew knew,” I said sweetly.Bryan’s head popped up over the back of the couch and he looked at me, “Do tell?” he said with renewed interest.”Remember that guy I told you about, the one who drove the Beamer–” I started to say.”Holy shit, Mike!?!” he practically yelled.And that was the other amazing thing about Bryan, not only did he not care about my sexual past, he actually loved it when I told him about it. He’d practically memorized half the stories I told him. And then, usually right after I told them, he’d fuck the hell out of me. I met Mike my freshman year. I was out clubbing with some girlfriends, and Mike had come to chat me up. Tall, clean-cut, and good-looking, he started buying us all drinks, happily flashing a roll of cash. I’m no gold digger, and I’ve never looked to be a kept woman, but I have to say that I fully appreciate the effort to impress. Mike told me he was a businessman who traveled to Columbus about once a month and he was looking for a little companionship. I have to say, I didn’t care. He could have said he was a college student or a school teacher, I was already into him just on his looks and charm. That was why, about an hour later, I was leaning over in the front seat of his BMW giving him head. If that had been the whole story, though, it wouldn’t have been remarkable. I couldn’t count the number of guys I’ve given head to if my life depended on it. Nor was it a big deal that Mike drove me back to his hotel room and fucked me. Again, that was just a typical weekend night for me back then.The part of the story Bryan liked was what happened the next time Mike came into town. He texted me to see if I wanted to get a drink, and I agreed because he’d been a lovely fuck the month before. So, we met at a nearby restaurant for a nice dinner. At the dinner, he asked me if we could go back to my place this time because he didn’t want to fuck me at the hotel. While I loved his forthrightness, I told him that I didn’t have an apartment, I was living at the dorm.He immediately got this look in his eye like he’d hit the jackpot. I’d seen it enough to recognize it. Something I’d just said had kicked Mike into immediate overdrive, and he Beylikdüzü Escort was probably already getting hard. What I found out later was that that was one of his favorite kinks: he loved the idea of fucking a girl in her dorm room. And boy, did he. When he was back in my room on top of me, I felt like he was trying to break my tiny twin-sized bed in half with me under him. Over the next few months, whenever Mike came into town, he’d take me out for drinks and then take me back to the dorm room to fuck me silly.This was the part of the story Bryan liked. Most guys just want to cum and go, but some guys have their own kink, and Bryan loved hearing about those. That’s Bryan’s kink; the dirty things I do to satisfy other guys’ fantasies. “Dorm Room Mike?” Bryan asked. “Dorm Room Mike,” I agreed with a laugh.”What’d he say? Ask if you’re still in college?””No, dummy,” I said with a smile, “it just says ‘Hi Becca, long time no chat, this is Mike.'” “Pretty original line, bet he just wants to fuck you again.””Of course he does,” I said. And meant it. A huge number of the friend requests and messages I get from Facebook are from guys I fucked at some point in the past. I used to respond to them because I’m nice, then I responded to them just to see how long it would take them to get around to mentioning sex (average number of messages before sex: 9), then I just stopped because it got tedious. Bryan knew this but said, “You should say ‘hi’ back.””But then he’ll think I want to fuck him.”Bryan shrugged, “No biggie if he does,” and then turned back to the game. I moved the mouse to close the chat window, but then stopped. Well, why not, I thought.”Hi, Mike, it’s been 4ever!” I wrote.Almost immediately, I saw that he was typing a response. “It has. What you been up to, hot stuff?””Just living the dream””I bet,” he wrote, “still looking sexy as hell in your profile pic!””LOL, I wish, my college bod is behind me””Oh I doubt that! I bet your still hot as ever” he wrote back.I hadn’t noticed, but Bryan had snuck up behind me. He must have heard the message pings and snuck over to come to the kitchen table to read over my shoulder.”Yeah, he definitely wants to fuck you. He also spelled ‘you’re’ wrong.” Bryan said and I nearly jumped out of my skin. “You think??” I said, sarcastically, “I’m not sure spelling was ever his strong point.””Was his strong point the way he fucked that hot little college bod of yours,” Bryan said, breathing low into my ear.”Yes, it was,” I replied.Bryan’s slid his right hand around from behind me, up my shirt squeezed my breast gently. “Was it how he used you like a slut?””That, too,” I moaned.His left hand slid up and cupped my other breast. He began slowly massaging them. “Do you miss it, the way he treated you?”I didn’t, not really, because I’d found the same thing in Bryan. They were both fun and charming to be around, but once we got to the bedroom they were both confident and commanding. They treated me exactly the way I loved to be treated: with a kind of respectful but forceful dominance. They both made me feel used, desired, and, in Bryan’s case, loved. It made me melt into a sublime submissiveness followed by a contented happiness afterward. Of course, with Mike, it’d had never been anything more than a weekend here or a weekend there. But I’d love the way he’d practically assumed ownership of me.For example, on the third or fourth month after we first fucked, we were at a bar and he’d casually mentioned his fiancee. It stood to reason that Mike wasn’t single. He looked like an actor and dropped $100 bills like pocket change. But being engaged wasn’t something he tried Beylikdüzü Escort Bayan to explain or even preface, he just started talking about his fiancee assuming I wouldn’t care. And he was right. Later that night, as he was sitting on the dingy couch in our dorm room, with me kneeling in front of him sucking his cock, he even texted her to wish her a good night. It not only didn’t bother me, but it also made me want to please him even more.The following month, Mike sent me a care package before he arrived. It contained a pair of $1,300 patent black Louboutin stilettos with a 4″ heel and an Agent Provocateur garter belt and stockings. Although he’d never seen me in anything more dressy than a college t-shirt and jeans, he never had a moment’s doubt that when he showed up, I’d be dressed to the 9s. So when we met at a nearby restaurant, he didn’t even smile in satisfaction when I walked in wearing a slim pencil skirt, a nice blouse, and stockings and heels. He knew I would do as he wanted.  “I do miss it,” I moaned to Bryan. Bryan slid his right hand down under the hem of my loose gym shorts.”You’re wet, Becca,” he said, nibbling on my ear. “I think that you’re thinking about him fucking you.”And that wasn’t wrong. Now that Bryan had put the idea in my head, it was hard to think about anything other than Mike’s fit body and delicious cock. Bryan lifted my t-shirt to expose my lacey bra, “Why don’t you send him a pic, see if he thinks you’re still hot as fuck?”I reached up to pull my shirt down, although Bryan held it there, “Bryan! You know I’m not a tease!”And that was the other thing about me. I hate girls who tease: who leads guys on and then leaves them dangling. I have friends who get a kick out of that, dancing up on a guy at a club all night, getting them all revved, and then splitting for another place. That’s never been my style. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve met plenty of shit guys I couldn’t stand. But teasing them? No thanks, some guy is acting like an ass, I’m going to let them know immediately.”Tease?” Bryan asked incredulously, “can you really tease a guy who’s already fucked your brains out?””Still,” I said, “I’m not sending my pic to someone who could share it. No way.””No problem,” Bryan said, “Just aim the camera down. Bra only, no face. It’ll be fine. Watch.” With that, he reached forward to open the camera app on my laptop, then tilted the screen down so only my bra and midriff were showing. “See, even if he foforwardedt, no one would ever know it was you, and it’s no more than you show off at the beach.” Bryan stepped off to the side and, as he did, clicked a key on the computer. I heard the shutter sound and looked down at the pic.”See,” he said, “that wouldn’t even get a PG-13 rating in a movie.”But I wasn’t looking at the pic, I was looking at Bryan. His shorts were massively tented from what I could tell was a fufull-onrection. He looked down, then looked back up at me with a sheepish smile.”I think,” I said slowly, “that you might have an ulterior motive. Looks like a big one.”Bryan laughed, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, ma’am,” he said as unconvincingly as was humanly possible.” I turned my attention to the pic with a smirk. It did look pretty good. My cleavage was on point, and there was nothing in it that would identify me. I attached the pic to the message and wrote, “Well, what do you think? Do I still got it?” Then I looked back at Bryan. He read the message and nodded at me. I rolled my eyes once and hit send. As soon as the message pinged off, he smiled.”Get up,” he said. I stood up, and he slid down into the chair behind me, pulling my shorts Escort Beylikdüzü down as he did. I felt his hands on his hips, pulling me down, and I spread my legs to straddle his thighs, as his cock pushed up into me. I leaned back into his smoothly muscled chest as his cock slid into me.The laptop pinged. “Read it to me,” he said.I continued to work my way down his cock, my palms flat on the kitchen table for support. “He said, ‘so sexy, I wish I was fucking those beautiful tits.'”Bryan thrust up into me, and I moaned loudly. “Tell him you want his cock,” Bryan said.”Oh my god, Bryan,” I protested between thrusts. “You know I don’t like to tease!””It’s not a tease if it’s true,” he said, and rammed his full length into me. “And it is true, isn’t it, Becca?”I didn’t respond. Bryan continued to thrust up into me. And then finally, he repeated, “It IS true, isn’t it, Becca?””The only cock I want is yours,” I said.Bryan stopped thrusting into me. He reach his hands around my tits and pulled me back so his lips were next to my ear again. “That’s not true, baby. The only cock you’ll take is mine. Because you love me. Because we’re married. And because you’re the most amazing wife in the world. But it’s not the only cock you want. And that’s okay. I know you want his cock. And I love you.”  I leaned forward and typed, “i want ur cock” and then I stopped. Bryan looked over my shoulder. Then he released my right breast, reached forward, and sent the message. He leaned back, his hands on my hips directing me to grind down on him. Bare seconds later, ping. “What’s it say,” Bryan grunted.”Says he’s traveling here next month.”  “How convenient,” Bryan laughed.”Isn’t it, though,” I said, also laughing. “What do you want me to tell him?””Tell him you want him to come and fuck you,” Bryan said.I paused and said disapprovingly, “Baby, that’s mean. You’re taking this too far””Why’s it mean,” he asked, pushing down on my hips, but this time I didn’t budge.I have to admit, it’s hard to have a “serious” relationship moment when you’re facing away from your interlocutor and his cock is halfway inside you, but I tried anyway. “Bryan, c’mon. I’m not going to get him all pumped up just to blow him.””He’d be lucky if you blow him off,” Bryan said with a grin.”You know what I mean,” I said, smacking his thigh.”Then get him all pumped up, and deliver.” “Excuse me???”Bryan’s fingers tightened around my hips and he pulled me down, pushing his cock inside me as he said, “I want you to invite him here. And then I want you to fuck him.””Bryan–” I started.”But there’s a condition,” he said, pushing me back up and pulling me down again.I rode the bliss of his cock pumping into me for a few seconds before I said, “What’s the condition?””I get to watch. I’ll set up cameras and watch everything you do and everything he does to do.”This stopped me in my tracks. Well, proverbially, anyway, as I continued to let Bryan guide my pussy up and down his shaft. Finally, I said, “Are you serious?””Yeah, baby,” he grunted as he thrust into me. “I want to see you in action. I’ve wanted to see you in action since the first time you told me what a slut you are.”I felt myself peaking, the excitement of this unexpected conversation pushing me to an amazing climax. I was trying to formulate, in my head, what all this meant. “Is this something you’ve thought about,” I asked. “Yeah,” he said, “it would be so hot to watch you fuck another guy.” This, also, wasn’t a first for me. I’d been with guys who wanted to see me with other guys. Sometimes strangers. Sometimes their friends. But those were just guys. The guys who composed my long behind me slut past. Those were not my husband. “God, Bryan, if you’re bullshitting me right now, I’m going to be soooo mad,” I panted.”Not shitting you.” I looked back over my shoulder at him with sly eyes. “Do you want to watch me be a slut?”Now it was Bryan’s turn to moan, gripping my hips so tightly his fingers were dug into me.

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