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Small's Story

Mark...Alex...Trevor--these are some of the names I've caught her saying over the hum of her vibrator. Behind the door cracked open, she kept everything under the sheets so you couldn't see below her shoulders.

Which is fine; If you saw her strutting downtown you too would first notice her lean face--starting with those cold blue eyes always looking straight ahead, and then those small perky lips, never with too much lipstick. If it's sunny the tiny rhinestone in her nose would shine at you. But if you miss that, just notice her hair; it's always changing, though naturally brunette and sexiest when it hangs past her shoulders.

Believe me, I'm the husband.

Marriage has been a gradual commitment for us, for the past four years; though it's where I met her, I gave up having tailgate parties with the guys all the time, and she stopped banging one of them all the time.

It wasn't as awkward as you think--but privately thrilling--to shake the hand of a man smiling because...I couldn't tell if the team won or my wife let him score. That's in retrospect; she only told me about Alex just as she was weaning herself off of him.

"You know," she said, "We've been casual since before I met you..."

Dana didn't have to say anything else because I wasn't visibly bothered, at least not what she expected. Right after giving me those eyes that almost, almost were apologetic just for politeness, she just walked away in her skinny jeans and flip-flops.

And speaking of expectations, everything--finances, social life--has been what we've wanted by our early 30's, but we, well Dana especially, are almost satisfied...let's talk sex.

There is no perfect way to listen to your wife offer foreplay or position techniques first fulfilled by another man.

Trying these would end with her saying, "Thanks sweetie!" and no--not after coming. It meant failure; I could take her from behind "Trevor style" for two wonderful minutes, with her sternly demanding, "Harder, deeper fuck...ugh, get in there already!"

But it'd be over too soon. I'd either tire out, drenched in sweat, or I'd lose control and jet in her before she was even warmed up.

"Keep doing that exactly," have been her most encouraging words, reserved for my most submissive roles, especially guiding the toy into Dana--blindfolded, while her hands were tied. Biting her lip she'd reminisce, "Like in the back seat," though I've never had her in a back seat.

I'm probably making you soft now--I'll hurry up, o.k.? Coffee's on me.

The first hint of why we're here now--was during a gentle clit-licking, when she proclaimed, "Ugh, that'd be perfect if you could be inside me at the same time."

*

"Trevor style ha ha," said Jason as he checked the inside of his steak, "that was like listening to a car accident. It's cool you persevere so much though, and with Dana I'll just confirm that's a must. Now if you make her come hard, well, she will do anything for you."

"You know, that's kind of like having to hear someone say how cool Europe is, but knowing you're never going to get there anytime soon." I swallowed some garlic toast. "So, were you also surprised that she sprung this dinner date for all of us?"

As he was tasting his first bite, Jason asked, "How do you mean?"

"How do you mean?" I retorted.

Taking a swig of ale, he said, "Heck, she never told you? We've been sexting for about a month, so in that way it's no surprise...but I did have plans with the guys tonight, which I had to remind them that pussy comes first, always."

"That's almost an ambiguous statement--'pussy comes first'," I said.

"It's true in every possible way you want to interpret that," said Jason, just before placing his fist over his mouth to burp quietly. "You'll see."

"It's hard waiting," I said.

"Train yourself to--that's the moral of your story, no?" he said, winking. "Speaking of coming, here she is, finally."

Joining the seat closest to him, my wife said, "Sorry guys! Emily called. You two know how it is with her."

Jason tasted his fries with one hand as the other disappeared under the table, probably onto my wife's thigh.

"Hmm, did you check if they remembered I can't eat nuts?" she asked.

He nodded, and as Dana turned to taste the first few bites Jason grinned at me with a look that said, "Ya--she can't eat them, but she sure takes them!"

"Mmm," hummed my wife, "So fresh. I love the cranberries on this." When she was half done her small portion she looked up at me, saying, "So sweetie, are you still comfortable?"

"I think you got a size too small," I said.

Dana smirked. "Don't flatter yourself."

"So how do one of those things feel?" asked Jason.

"Hmm, well it's like gripping a softball between my legs...that's all I know so far," I explained with a shrug. How else to describe a chastity device to a bull of a man?

"Man," he added before lowering his voice to a whisper, "how did you even let her put it on?"

I made eye contact with my wife, but she just raised her eyebrows.

"Ya...you know the saying 'happy wife, happy life'? Well, if she isn't satisfied, then I don't get to be either...even privately. I guess that's fair."

Jason wiped his lips and motioned to the waitress across the room. On the verge of chuckling, he whispered to me, "What if she's lost the key?"

All I could do was blush. "She wouldn't! That was so not part of the deal!"

"Ha ha!" he said with slap on the table.

My wife playfully shoved him at the shoulder. With her free hand, she pulled the tiny key--what I thought was her gold necklace--out from her deep cleavage. Without arching his neck, Jason took a good look down her blouse.

"This one's on me," he said, opening the waitress' black vinyl book.

"Oh no, no..." said Dana, before turning to me with that apologetic look as if to say, "Pay for us two, at least." But, I thought his offer was the beginning of a fair trade, so I just folded my arms and shook my head at her. She flipped me the bird.

Patting him on the back, but eyeing me from his ear, Dana whispered, "I'll make it up to you."

*

We could never quite guess what was taking Dana so long in the shower. Perhaps it was just my nerves ballooning the seconds. And jeez--Jason was most at ease here, with his hands on his hips and sporting a wild grin as he surveyed the bedroom.

"I'd like you in the corner by the door," he said, pointing unnecessarily. "And stay dressed. She won't need another naked man in the room. If anything, maybe grab her favorite tea towel from the kitchen so she can bite something."

I obliged.

"Good," he said, "now you're going to use my phone to tape us. Why? You're going to receive a recipe for making her come, and I'm going to stroke to it whenever. It'll never be distributed of course."

The creaking door made my cock jump in its cage.

"Hey..." she said, slowly stepping in, still wearing the ankle length tropical skirt and frilly blouse.

"Hey you," said Jason as he pulled her in for a long kiss. My wife's back to me, he started unbuttoning her blouse, but kept gorging on her mouth slowly, and forcefully--Dana clasped both hands behind his neck for support.

He let her blouse fall to her elbows, so that I could her white strapless bra. With closed eyes closed and scarlet lips parted with abandon, Dana threw her head back to receive his hungry, toothless bites down her small, cream neck. In a way he was almost hurrying--these trails along the tender folds of her collarbone looked too familiar; where they lead, what she would do after, was going to be the real fun his pace said.

But my wife wouldn't be rushed. "Mmm...mmm," she moaned to extend the foreplay, feeling Jason's hands inch toward her bra clip. The man, no doubt, knew the next move: a hand cupped the back of her head to rejoin his lips with hers, but this time for some tongue technique I should've studied, but just couldn't see. I've never given her goosebumps like that.

Dana's skirt had a zipper that looked like an ant against his hand, and two tugs later everyone heard a thread rip. Normally that would have turned my wife right off, especially for a dressy item like that, but all this called for was a quick and precise unzipping on her part. The dress fell to her ankles. She had been wearing a white cheekini--think bikini but more skin--and didn't tell me until now? My cock heaved--I needed that key.

They paused to read each other's eyes--his flashed to mine before guiding my wife, with a hand on her lower back, to the edge of the bed. Dana bounced on that a couple times before lying back with hands behind her head, and letting him part her dangling legs. Well, her toe tips could just touch the carpet.

Here too, she closed her eyes, but with him she wasn't sporting that sleepy, bored face. No, now she smiled in her lips and eyes. I'd had never seen Dana so privately happy--or at least so full of expectation--this was a most unusual perspective.

"I hope you're taking notes, sweetie," she said to me, and with a little sass added, "Jason, make sure he can see what you're doing, because he doesn't listen to instructions very well."

Perhaps an inch from her crotch, he boomed, "I'm giving him the recipe, babe," and started with long, slow licks with that bull tongue along her panty lines.

"Oh...I remember this," she whispered.

He quickened, tugging at her panties with his teeth to slide that tongue under them more forcefully. "So good," he acknowledged her taste before pulling her cheekini to the floor.

My heart sank--she shaved completely; I loved a little bush.

With two fingers, he held her clit hood back and re-introduced himself with light, quick flicks of the tongue. He rocked three fingers inside her and prodded her asshole with the smallest one.

I could hear her exhale now, and noticed her furrowing her brow--she wanted him to go faster now, I knew it, he knew it. He took it to that level to oblige that clit, now drooling over himself and over her folds, saliva lubricating the finger fucking but doing nothing for the finger that was up her ass to the knuckle.

"Fuck me, oh...fuck me!" she moaned above the slurping and the wet kisses. Her legs locked at the knee. "Keep doing that...yes..." she whispered, but he needed no help; she didn't need five minutes. My wife pulled the sheets as her legs shuddered and cried out, "So close, so close!" and the poor bull's head must've been crushed by the sudden climactic grip of her thighs to a "Yes! Yes! Oh my fucking yes!"

The bull pulled away and rubbed his face and neck on the sheets. Catching his breath, he turned to me, "Find the lube, cuck, and did you record all that?"

"For fuck sakes it stopped recording 10 seconds in!"

He shook his head, "Your loss pal. Now get that lube."

"The one I want's in the top drawer, sweetie. Thanks!"

Wow--she bought Great Glide--more expensive and smaller than all the others. The hell for? Our normal stuff was perfectly fine. Oh...shit.

I heard his belt fall to the floor, and he was pulling his boxer down as I turned around. If he needed anything else, I'd have to leave eight inches between us.

"Put some on it, cuck."

I swallowed hard. His nuts alone, how they pulled stretched that sac down loosely, probably dwarfed my dick, if I could've only opened the device to check.

The more I looked, the more life was unfair; tons of throbbing vessels reinforced his thick shaft, ultimately supplying that heavy, uncut mushroom cap--it's hole long clouded over with precum.

The bottle let out droplets at a time. "More," he said. Watching the lube dribble onto the floor he boomed, "Work it in, sissy." My goodness...I hoped he just wanted a rub.

Dana sat up. "Ya he's our little bitch. I want him to taste you."

After a pause, the bull said, "Just lick the head dry...yes, like that," pulling my head to his cummy hole. I spit it out at the first chance.

"How disappointing," he said. "Now go." Jason was pointing to the chair. "You still got that key babe? He can stroke to what's coming."

"Na-uh," my wife said, toying with the chain, "I'm not impressed with him at all today. Now how do you want me?"

"You know I'd love it if you bent over."

My wife assumed the position, resting her elbows on the edge of the bed and spreading her legs. Until she shaved, I hadn't noticed how long her pussy was; her engorged lips still glistened under the light.

Opening her slit wide with his hand, he guided his cock in her with the other.

"Oh, be very careful hun," Dana said, "it feels like you're going to tear something."

The bull pulled out and angled his shaft more downwards, re-entering her in one graceful movement with her tight cunt peeling the foreskin back. One slow thrust, a second, a third faster pump--he didn't need to pause again. She rested her forehead on the bed and I couldn't see her face through her hair.

"Uhh..." grunted the bull, picking my wife up at her hips--feet just off the floor--as if to stroke his shaft with her pussy.

"Go deep," she said firmly.

Pulling her from the hips, the bull rocked his balls against her mound, fucking her, fucking her until the squishes and soupy sounds started to drown out the firm spanks he kept administering to each cheek.

Just gliding in and out, that shaft was wetter every time I saw it pull out to the base of the cap. Perhaps it was too easy for him--he wasn't losing his breath--he sported that blowjob, 'this-is-nice-and-easy' face, fucking my wife's long, receptive cunt. On a similar note, I wanted to see her face--was this too simple for her? Could even that monster not fulfill her pussy's snobby, worldly appetite? Or was she biting the mattress?

Jason pulled out. If it was me, she would've asked, "Did you come?" But instead she just responded to his hand, which pressed her hips right against the bed; her knees couldn't rest on the floor, and this made her lower back hunch a little.

She turned her head, and sweatily asked, "Are we doing..."

"Summer of '12, yes," he said, letting an unbroken stream of lube pile on her asshole; the excess trickled down her lips.

"Ugh...oh boy," said Dana.

"Relax for me now, babe, yes, you got it," said the bull, pressing that head into her hole, letting it widen slowly in tandem with her breathing. Suddenly the mushroom cap was sucked in and Jason shuddered from the neck down, a shudder that had "fuck ya" written all over it. I could see that tender, dark ring constrict his cock and make the vessels throb overtime to feed that head, easily three inches in and counting.

What looked anatomically impossible, Jason started to feed four fingers--laid out like a flat palm--up her pussy, that pink slit that kept looking longer every time I saw it.

He alternated the gentle thrusts--cock in, fingers out, fingers in, cock out--but he his technique was becoming unpredictable: he started pushing in deeper, and his fingers bunched to grab at her g-spot. The sight of her two gaping holes was bringing him to the edge, and I'm sure he wished something could be in her mouth too.

"Oh, babe, suck off that sissy while I fill you up--suck it!"

"Uhh...uhh...oh..." was all she could say.

"Suck it!"

I fumbled onto the bed and could only catch the key after one too many swipes.

The bull boomed, "Hurry you fuck!" But I couldn't fit the little key in; I stabbed it in, tried it upside down--everything. In desperation I held Dana by the chin and had her suck four of my fingers.

"Errghhhah..." cried Jason, gripping grabbing her round white ass, trying to push the cum oozing out back into her hole. When he stepped back, I saw the red marks on her cheeks, and watched his yellow and globby jizz bubble out of her and run down her right thigh.

I was so close to cumming, if she had only touched my cock then. Instead, Jason went to the washroom and my wife rolled onto her side, catching her breath.

Patting my knee, she said brokenly, "I love you."

Joy came over me--"Love you too, D."--but I had interrupted her.

Dangling the key, she said with steadied breath, "And I'd love it if you scheduled a weekly reminder in his phone to call me--or you."

That, I could do. "Done," I said with a tap to his screen.

"Now," she purred, playing with the key, "come here."

THE END


*Author's note: This was written for a gentleman who requested a customized story. If you'd like a story tailored for you, send me a note.*

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