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Amy Lynn The Story

By: amy_lynn



I can't remember how it started, just when. 

It was all a game really. We'd playfully argue about who got to be on the top or who had to go down on who. 

Then it slowly progressed.

I remember one day, shortly after my husband was laid off, I joked with him about who wore the panties in the house. He seemed put off, almost annoyed. For a couple of weeks after he was very cold and distant, like I had damaged his ego.

The funny thing was, for those few weeks I'd never been hotter. I felt powerful. I was the breadwinner and he was the stay at home spouse. He'd cook dinner for me, clean the bathrooms, do the laundry, all better than I ever did.

I was appreciative. I would bring home a gift once in a while. A good guy gift, like video games or an occasional porn. Every once in a while I'd bring home something not so guy-like, like flowers, candles or bubble bath. Each time, he'd get distant again for a couple of weeks while he recuperated. Each time making me hotter and hotter.

Then one day, while shopping at a lingerie store, I started looking at panties and thought that would be a really nice gift for a stay at home spouse. Who doesn't need new panties?

It was then that I crossed the line. Both in his mind, and in hindsight mine.

My husband is just slender enough to fit nicely into some very attractive panties. I started going through the bins looking for just the right kind. Large enough in front to hold his little package and sexy enough to turn him on if I were wearing them.

Finally I found a few pairs and went to the cashier, who promptly asked if I wanted to be sized, these looked like a size or two too big for me.

"They're for my husband," I blurted out so matter-of-factly that I surprised myself.

She laughed uncomfortably, and I told her I was only joking, they were for my mother to save face.

I went home with the panties and stuffed them in my drawer, not having the nerve to say anything just yet. 

For weeks they sat in the drawer. Haunting me. Making me so wet I had to constantly wear panty liners. I would think about it at work, in the car, out with friends. But mostly I would think about it when I sat down at a dinner he cooked, or watched him fold laundry.

Until one day, I couldn't resist. I thought about how to do it. I considered removing all of his underwear and replacing them but I didn't feel that was empowering enough. I considered taking them out during love making and asking him to put them on or placing a bet on something, but none of them were what I wanted.

I knew what I wanted, but I was afraid to do it. I wanted to give them to him and say I expected him to wear these while he was unemployed. I didn't know what the response would be. I knew he was going to be hurt, but how hurt? It was just a game right? I could joke that it's incentive to find a job.

Finally, I convinced myself it was all okay, just a little joke that he should be able to take in stride. Only I was lying to myself, it wasn't a joke to me, and certainly didn't seem like one to him. I was starting to really enjoy these little power struggles, especially since I was winning. 

I put the pieces in place, I would wait until he was in the shower and get the prettiest pair and wait for him to get out. I'd have a few lines made up about how much he'd turn me on to wear them, and it was just for fun, someway to soften the blow. Except, it didn't turn out just like that. 

I waited for him to come out of the shower. I was shaking I was so nervous, none of the excitement leading up to this was inside of me at all. 

He finally walked out, drying his hair when I approached him with the panties.

"Remember when I joked about who wore the panties in this house?" I stammered nervously, "I thought you might like to try these."

I handed him the panties and his face dropped. He reached out slowly and took them from me.

"You're joking right?" he sounded so scared.

And this is where I started to lose control of the woman I used to be, and started to become the one I am now.

"I'm not joking, you're doing all the panty work, you might as well be wearing them." I nearly commanded. "Maybe this will be good incentive for you to find work."

Even then I was shocked at what I said. I went from playing games to being a mean humiliating wife. But when I got done saying all of that, I found myself no longer nervous and about as hot as I have been in my adult life. I felt in control.

He looked like I kicked him in the groin. He didn't say anything at all, just stood there finished drying himself off and put on a t-shirt. I watched as he slowly pulled the panties up, fixed his package and worked the g-string into it's nearly correct position. A feeling of power so strong rushed over me, I felt like I was the president.

I walked up to him and touched his cheek.

"You look very nice honey, and if it makes an difference to you, you're really exciting me," I reassured him. "I'll be even more excited if you're wearing them when I get home."

He seemed to perk up a little with the compliment, something that I didn't let go unnoticed. 

So I went to work. It was one of my best days at work ever. I took the power I felt from home and parlayed it into getting what I needed from my boss. I asked, rather demanded, a raise and was pleased to be told I was in line for a promotion. It seemed like my day.

When I got home, I could hardly wait to share both my good news, and my days worth of pent up sexual energy. I opened the door, but the usual dinner smells weren't wafting through the air. 

I called out that I was home to no answer, so I went in search of my husband. He wasn't there. He didn't say he was going anywhere, but none the less, he wasn't at home. 

I have never been so disappointed to come into an empty house.

"Did I hurt him so much he left me?" I half seriously wondered.

It had been no more than twenty minutes, I barely had gotten out of my work clothes and found a yogurt before my husband burst through the front door holding a bag of groceries.

"I'm so sorry I was late!" he called out, "I don't usually shop at five, and the place was a zoo."

I was so relieved to hear his voice. I went to meet him, and gave him a big kiss.

"So, did you do what I asked?" I was getting wet just waiting for the answer.

He shook his head slowly yes, and pulled his jeans down a little to show me. While he didn't look as forlorn as the morning, he was certainly looking demascuatled. 

I told him about my day over a quick dinner. About the empowering feeling and how I got the promotion.

I asked him about his day, and was very quiet at first.

"I did the laundry. I vacuumed the living and dinning room floors. I scrubbed the bathrooms, went shopping," he said softly.

And I lost it. I could feel my pants soak through. The picture of my husband in a pink g-string on his hands an knees cleaning the bathroom or talking to the teenage checkout girls was so unbearably sexy.

I rushed my way through the rest of dinner, not wanting to eat too much anyway. Even watching him eat knowing he was wearing those panties was driving me insane. 

"Hurry up, I have plans for you," I pushed him to move faster so I could get to my desserts.

After finishing dinner, I led him by his hand into our living room. I had no idea what was going to happen that night, only that I was so hot it was like I was teenager again. 

"I want to see you now, in just your panties," I sat down on a chair and pulled him towards me standing up. 

He looked sick. I didn't know why he was going on with this, but it was such a turn on I didn't care. I started to touch myself, something I almost never do with someone else around, because I couldn't contain my excitement.

He took off his shirt and I was greeted with a perfectly smooth bare chest.

"Did you shave that for me?" I looked up at him as he nodded yes.

Then he unbuttoned the jeans. I saw the first hint of the pink panties against his smooth skin and felt my body shudder. They were so pink, so feminine. I slid my hand into my pants, and in about two seconds, while he was still taking off his jeans, I started to come.

I came, like I had never come before in my entire life. My skin got so tight I felt like I would explode right through it. I quickly removed my pants and shoved my fingers between my legs. I don't even know if he was watching, and at that moment I didn't care. Minutes must have went by of me rocking back and forth, moaning. All the while he stood right in front of me, wearing nothing but his panties.

I had never masturbated in front of someone before. I always thought it would be demeaning, sort of like putting on a show for someone. This time, I felt completely opposite.

As I finished, I looked up at him, still standing there in his panties. I think he must have been watching because his little package wasn't quite as little anymore, as its outline pressed tightly against the pink silk.

I pulled him into the chair next to me and cuddle with him while I calmed down. His twitching penis slowly deflated a little so I rubbed an outline of it with my finger.

"You could have joined me you know," I remember telling him. 

"I felt like I should wait until you asked me to," was his response.

This seemed odd to me. In the past, he would make advanced when I was reading a romance novel or something, why would this be different?

"I won't wait to be asked," I remember telling him, rather forcefully actually, as I grabbed his package and gave it a good squeeze, the feeling of power rushing through me once again.

I pulled him off the chair and got him into the middle of the living room floor.

"On you hands an knees honey," I pushed his shoulder and lowered him to the floor. The funny thing is, whatever I told him he did without any response. 

He was so sexy to me on his hands and knees for some reason. I stood up and walked around him, giving him a gentle tap on his butt.

"Honey, you are so sexy, you saw how much you turned me on," I bent down to whisper in his ear. "Wearing these panties makes me the happiest wife alive."

I felt his body tense and twitch. This was turning him on. The compliment combined with the humiliation was making him hot. 

I knelt beside him and rubbed my hands through his hair kind of like he was a pet dog. He leaned his head into my hand. If I had wanted to, I could have stopped right there, touched myself and had an orgasm every bit as big as the one I had only minutes earlier.

I slowly caressed him and moved myself into a position right behind him. I looked down at his body, his pink g-string still creased between his cheeks, his package hanging down slightly, constricted by the pink silk of the panties.

I pushed my hips up to his ass. I could feel the heat of his body, smell his sex all around. He let out a soft moan as I grabbed his hips and pulled him tight against me. I reach my hands around and cupped his breasts in my hands.

"Do you like this?" I asked, though his body was giving me all the response I needed. 

He never responded, just moaned.

I slid the g-string from his cheeks and started working my finger inside until he let out a huge moan and his body sent out and electric jolt. I had found his anus. I rubbed my finger around and around on it. His cock twitched uncontrollably as I slowly worked my finger inside of him.

"Oh honey," I moaned, "someday maybe we'll get you something to play with in here." I slid the finger deeper inside, trying to find the sweet spot so many of my girlfriends have told me about. It was unbelievable soft. I had always thought it would be this rough hard place. I felt deeper and deeper until I heard him gasp.

I reached my free hand down to massage his balls. He started to shudder almost immediately.

"Oh honey, are you going to come?" I asked, sliding my finger out of his ass.

His body started to jerk uncontrollably. I reached my hands around his hips, my breasts pressed tight against his back, and reached around to jack him off. 

He came almost as quickly as I touched him. His cream all over his panties and dripping out to the floor. He collapsed on the floor when it was all done in a heap, exhausted.

Getting up, I went to the bedroom and grabbed him another pair of panties, this time spraying them with a little perfume. 

"Here," I handed him the clean pair of panties, "there's more in your underwear drawer."

He looked like a bunch of mixed up emotions. I could see hurt, embarrassed, but I also saw how excited he had gotten. I pulled him over to the couch and put his head in my lap, gently caressing his head.

"You're a very good boy," I leaned down and kissed him on the cheek.

Then, things got weird.

Amy Lynn The Story Ch. 02



For a while it was just something we did. Once in a while I'd tell him to wear panties, he'd oblige. I'd build up so much sexual tension during my day at work thinking about it that I'd come home and we'd have incredibly hot, at least for me, lovemaking sessions. 

Then I found myself taking more and more advantage of my husband, pushing his limits. It started a lot like the first day, I'd be unable to control myself as he started undressing and I saw the panties. Sometimes I'd have him make me come, sometimes I'd do it myself and sometimes, it just happened. Then I'd think of elaborate ways to humiliate him.

I'd take him shopping with me to buy his panties. We wouldn't tell anyone they were for him, but the embarrassment of being with me as I picked out his underwear was evident on his face. I'd do things like hold them up to his hips and say he was about my mother's size, or make him pay. Me getting hotter and hotter the long and longer it took the cashier to fold each piece.

He was enjoying it sexually too. At least at the beginning. He'd come almost instantly at my touch, unable to stop. It'd take until at least the second time before he had any kind of sustained erection, and even those were shorter than they ever were before, but the sex was still incredible. 

There was one night in particular. I was coming home after a very difficult day at work. I was feeling beaten, tired and not much like doing anything but sleeping. My husband and prepared dinner and was dutifully wearing the panties I asked him to don in the morning, fully expecting me to be as horny as usual. 

I wasn't.

We ate dinner and I complained about work, being tired and really needing to just rest. He looked dejected. 

I felt like the husband with a headache. He wandered around the house for a while then told me he was going to turn in early. I felt awful.

I sat on the couch for a while, torn between working up the energy to please him and just laying my head back and sleeping. I finally plodded towards the bedroom.

I slid behind him in the dark bedroom and began massaging his back down to his buttocks. Oh how his ass felt so welcoming that night. I rubbed it over and over again, felt him push against my hands, widening himself for me.

I don't know what came over me. I reached into my headset drawer and pulled out a condom and my vibrator, continuing to rub him, distracting him. I had thought of doing this before, but not just like this. More of a thing we did together, now, I wanted to take him. 

I wanted him to know I was going to take him.

I positioned myself between his legs, like I had so many times before. I could smell him, the bitter aroma of our sexes mixing in the air. I gently pressed my finger against his anus and he immediately responded, moaning with pleasure.

I rubbed him until he was good and loose and then laid down on his back. I loved doing this, my body heavy against his. I always felt like he'd open his ass, beg me to fuck him, and tonight I would.

I worked my way down, my mouth kissing his back, finally his working to his ass. I hated licking anywhere near his ass, but he would burst any time he could feel my breathe down there. I worked his cheeks apart, my tongue flicking against him, making him squirm.

I pulled back, and his ass followed me until he was pressed up on his haunches. He looked so ready to fuck I wish I had a penis to shove inside of him. I reached around for my vibrator, and slowly turned it on and pushed it towards his ass.

"Oh my god, no," he exclaimed, but I had already turned the vibrator on and began to slide it in and out against his ass. His voice was protesting but his body wasn't.

He dropped down to the bed, his legs still spread wide as I pressed it harder and harder until I felt it break through.

He let out a load shriek as his body flailed against the bed. I climbed on top of him, my belly pressing against the vibrator, holding it in, pushing it in.

Grabbing his shoulders, I pulled his body tighter and tighter against me. I felt him shudder over and over again, his entire body shaking underneath me.

It felt like minutes, he was moving, writhing against the bed, against my body. His body shaking, jerking uncontrollably, until at last, it slowly subsided.

I rolled off of him and gently pulled the vibrator from his, I was sure now sore, bottom. He gave several last jerks as I reach around to try to stimulate him, but he had already come, so I kissed him softly on the back, holding him. Comforting him.

"You are the best husband ever," I praised him, rubbing his hair and pulling him tight in a hug.

He curled up into a ball and didn't say a word. It was the first time I had pushed him, the first time I heard him say no. I felt terrible, but at the same time, even more powerful than before. For the first time in my life it felt like I had become the hunter and others the prey. 

I gave him his panties again the next day, it was the start of a trend that would soon end in him not wearing anything else. He never wanted to talk about what happened that night and we never really did. 

For the next couple of weeks, I didn't do anything at all like that. I touched him, kissed him, made him feel as special as I could, but deep in my mind, I knew I need it again. I needed to feel him under me, powerless, writhing uncontrollably.

I couldn't get it out of my mind until finally I had to act. I had found a novelty store a few miles from my house. Far enough I felt that I wouldn't be seen by someone I know. I was going to buy a strap on.

It was one of the scariest moments of my life. I was so nervous when I drove to the store that I parked in front of the grocery store and walked across the entire strip mall to go inside. Only once had I been inside a place like this, for a bachelorette party.

I was surprised to see a woman behind the counter, and quickly felt more at ease.

"Can I help you?" she asked. 

She was very attractive, blond, and young. I couldn't help but think she'd be someone my husband might fantasize about. Her perky small breasts contrasting my full chest. Her blue eyes, her tight young body. 

I shook my head "no" and looked away, feigning interest in some lingerie. 

"Are you sure, there must be something," she walked out from behind the counter. "There's no need to be shy."

I looked at her and felt afraid and embarrassed. I would imagine I felt a lot like my husband seemed to feel most of the time. I tried to find the right words.

"You, I, well." I started. "I'm looking for a, ah..."

There was an awkward moment of silence. She looked at me, sincerely looking like she wanted to help. I finally got the courage to speak.

"I would like a strap-on," I blurted out, and then looked at the floor embarrassed.

I didn't know what to do. I wanted to run away, but she quickly reassured me.

"I'm sure we have several that you and your girlfriend, I'm sorry, partner, would like," she gently touched my hand and pulled me to a large selection of strap-ons.

I looked around, not knowing where to start, or even if I wanted to.

"It's okay, I've used them too," she pulled me close to her and pointed out two that she said she liked receiving a lot.

I looked at them, and both of them looked far too large. 

"I'm sorry, but I was thinking more, well, normal sized?" I looked at the selection which seemed to come in two sizes, bigger and biggest.

She laughed.

"If you wanted normal sized, wouldn't you just go to a bar and take your pick of the litter? Especially someone as pretty as you?" She reached up and pulled down the only one that looked both flesh colored and about the right size.

I smiled and bought it. It didn't look like that much, but it certainly wasn't so intimidating as to make even me tremble at the sight of it.

The deed was done. 

Again, I didn't do it right way. Again it haunted me. I wanted to take him, but I never felt the time was right. I didn't know how or when, but what I really didn't know was why.

It was a few weeks, right before Christmas. My company was having it's annual holiday party. My husband was attending, wearing his pretty pink panties, the first ones I gave him. 

Watching him talking to my boss and his wife, his tight butt cheeks pressed against his suit pants. Just knowing he was there, his pink panties pressing against that beautiful little package talking to my boss and his wife was excruciating. 

"Your husband," a co-worker started, "he's so quiet. Not like you at all."

I laughed and thought about him before we started all this. How loud he was. How he'd embarrass me in front of all my friends by saying something stupid or drinking too much. Now look at him. Quiet.

"Yes he is, lately," I said, "mostly since he lost his job."

I stood up and walked towards them.

"Hello, Mrs. Brown," I reached my hand towards my bosses wife, "I see you've met my husband. Did you know he's a great cook, and does incredible laundry and cleaning?"

My husbands head went down quickly, humiliated.

"No, No I didn't," she answered, surprised. "Really John?"

My husband nodded yes and proceeded to answer several questions about baking bread, something which he is particularly good at. Several other wives came over, and he soon found himself basking amongst their elderly attention as I wondered around socializing.

When we got home that night, I knew it was my night.

We stumbled into the bedroom and began getting undressed.

I pulled off my bra and looked at my husband. I thought about how sexy it would be to feminize him, make him wear a bra while I fucked him. Really make him my wife. It drove me over the edge. I walked up behind him.

"Here," I reached around him with my bra, sliding it over his hands and up his arms. "It looks like I'll need to loosen the straps."

He never said anything, but I felt the goose bumps on his back as I adjusted the straps so they would fit him. I grabbed a couple of my scarfs and balled them up, putting them in each cup. 

If I had ever felt this hot before, I don't know when. I could almost hear him whimper as he laid down in the bed wearing his panties and bra. I wondered how he felt now, how he'd feel if someone saw him like this. 

I crawled in bed next to him and started playing with his new breasts.

"Oh, honey," I moaned in obvious pleasure, "this is the sexiest you have ever been fore me."

I pulled his body close to me. His cock, already moistening his panties, was as hard and big as I had ever felt it. I did my best to avoid it, not wanting him to burst too quickly. I rolled him onto his stomach, spread his legs and told him to lay still while I had to go freshen up.

I grabbed my strap-on. I had practiced putting it on several times, but let me tell you, it was no easy thing to get on. I fumbled with the last latch and positioned the shaft and lubricated. It was now or never.

I went back to the bed, he was still in the same position.

I slowly crawled up behind him, holding back the shaft until I had not choice but to let him know it was there. 

He squealed as the cold lubricant touched against his anus and jerked forwards.

"What, what are you doing?" he moaned as I pressed harder and harder against him until I pressed though.

"Honey, I love you," I groaned, the shaft pressing into both him and me. I grabbed his shoulder with my right hand and pulled his body against mine. He moaned and moaned as I worked deeper and deeper inside of him.

I felt in control like I hadn't before. I looked down at his back, the back of his head as I repeatedly thrust my body towards his, each time his body jerking and shuddering under me.

I worked my body between his legs, spreading them wider and wider, pulling his hips up into the air, meeting my hips in a violent crash after crash. 

I fucked him. I fucked him as hard as I had ever been fucked by him before. I couldn't stop. I don't know what came over me, but I lurched in and out of him for at least ten minutes. He must have come right away, but that didn't stop me, I couldn't stop.

I pulled his hair, called him my little bitch and pushed myself deeper and deeper inside of him until I had no energy left to push and I collapsed on his back, the strap on still wedged between his cheeks.

I laid there for a few moments, recovering my breath, before rolling over, the shaft shooting straight up into the air.

"That was amazing," I moaned, but he rolled over in a ball, his back to me. 

I left the strap-on on and turned towards him, reaching my hands around and cupping the bra and scarves as if they were my husbands breasts, much like he would do to me after our lovemaking, the strap-on pressed between his legs.

I never felt better.



Amy Lynn The Story Ch. 03



I had a feeling that night, laying there in my empowering glow, that we were going to have a talk about this sooner or later, and it turned out to be sooner.

"Honey," my husband started as we ate our breakfast the next morning, "we haven't, well."

It took him a while, but he finally told me that, while what we have been doing was fun and obviously disturbingly too exciting for him, he wanted to just have a normal night. Not just a normal night, but more normal nights than not.

I hadn't realized that we had been playing like this so long, nearly nine months now. Then it dawned on me, we might not have had regular, missionary position sex once during this time. All this time I was so wound up in my fantasy, I forgot reality for a while.

Our date night came a couple of nights later. I went all out for him. I got my nails done, a hair cut, wax, anything I could do to be extra sexy, extra feminine that night. I bought a special selection of lingerie, one that he would drool over. 

I was going to be his, however he would want me, that night.

When I got home he was already to go.

"I made reservations for six, we have to run," he gently turned me around at the door.

We arrived at a very nice, very quiet sushi place and ate a wonderful meal. I told him about my day at work, that I was probably going to get another promotion before the end of the year. He talked about problem bread making and that he was due for his physical.

Normal.

We lingered there for a while, just chatting, before heading out the door for a movie and then home. It was nice to just spend time together, we hadn't done too much of just that lately.

When we got home we sat together on the couch and I dutifully found his favorite type of porn on pay per view, and slipped out of my clothes, revealing my new lingerie.

"Why do you like to see two girls anyway?" I asked him, though it always turned me on for some reason.

He just snickered and didn't answer. I sat back down on the couch next to him, his arm draped over me.

We watched almost the whole porn without him making any kind of gesture, move towards me. I looked up at him with puppy dog eyes.

"Don't you want me?" I started moving down between his legs, unsnapping his pants.

He moved his body, allowing me better access. I pulled the pants down, then off, and slid his mostly soft cock into my mouth. 

Normally I hated letting him watch a porn while I was giving him a blow job, but I was doing my best to be the doting wife tonight. His cock stiffened slightly as I started to slowly kiss up and down the shaft, holding his balls with my hand.

Usually when I suck him, he gets hard very quickly, but it was taking a lot of work to even keep him hard tonight. I reached around, touched him any place I thought was sexy, but to very little avail.

"Am I not turning you on?" I pulled my mouth from his shaft and kissed the inside of this thighs, "is there something I can do for you honey?"

I unbuttoned my bra and slid my breasts around his cock and tried to stimulate him, but he wasn't responding.

"Too much sake?" I asked as I pulled back up next to him. 

"I don't know, this hasn't happened, you know," he looked away embarrassed. 

This hadn't happened. Well, twice after drinking way too much, but other than that, in eleven years, he had never not been up for the occasion. I was actually devastated. I had prepared every thing I could to make this his day, and it felt ruined.

I reached down and stroked his cock to try to get some response, but he eventually pushed my hand away. Even the porn, two of the most beautiful girls in the world making love to each other wasn't working, at least not for him.

I rolled onto my back on the couch and slid off my panties and looked into his eyes. 

"Honey," I turned off the television, "I'm really hot, does that help?"

I pushed my fingers between my lips and spread myself out to show him my pussy. I started playing with myself, rubbing my clit, my lips, pushing inside, my other hand holding my breasts. 

He just kept watching. I wanted to scream at him to do something, anything to get turned on. I hadn't had a cock inside of me in months and I just now had realized it. How I wanted him to fill me, his hot shaft opening me up. I was getting wetter and wetter thinking about it.

I begged him to fuck me as I rubbed myself to prepare. I told him how much I needed him to fill me, how I wanted to be fucked. I needed to be fucked.

Finally he lowered himself down towards me to kiss me. I could feel his soft cock between his legs, and again I was devastated. I wrapped my legs around his hips and pulled him towards me, rubbing myself on whatever I could find.

We kissed for a while, fondling each others body, me trying tirelessly to turn him on. I bit his ear lobes, licked his neck, rubbed my wet lips all over his cock, but nothing would make him hard. I tried rolling him over and riding him, but again, nothing, not even hard enough to try to push it in.

"What's wrong?" I begged, "I want to turn you on honey" 

For his sake, he was trying. He tried stimulating himself but it wasn't working.

I slowly worked my way up his body, my wetness dripping all the way. Across his belly, his chest until it was inches from his face. I needed to come so bad, I played with myself in front of him, over his eyes so he could see, hoping to turn him on, but every time I looked back he was still playing with himself, still soft.

I couldn't resist any longer, I lowered my hips down onto his face and covered it with my juices. His tongue quickly finding my sweet spots I rode his face, his tongue and his nose were at varying times deep inside me. 

Finally, I grabbed for the wall, my hips shuddering, gyrating up and down until I exploded in pent up desire. I pulled his head deep up between my legs, smothering him with my sex until I could hold him no longer.

I fell back exhausted. He moved up and started kissing me, but I could tell we weren't going to do much more tonight, and we both drifted off into sleep.

Over the next few days we talked about it. He didn't really want to say much, only that he was going to the doctor soon and that maybe she could help. I didn't want to push anything, so until then, I didn't make any advances. I was waiting for him.

He didn't make any either. Whether he had performance anxiety or just didn't feel up to it, I never really could find out. It was nerve wracking. Here I had re-awoken this desire to be filled by his shaft, his seed, and he wasn't cooperating.

Finally, after an excruciating wait, his doctor appointment came.

"So what did she say?" I asked right as I opened the door, hoping he had a solution.

We talked about what the doctor, how he had gotten turned on by the digital exam and she said it was normal. She offered him something like Viagra, but said that if he was getting excited some of the times we were together that he should focus on those times before taking it. 

Then he did something that changed our relationship forever.

"Then she asked if that was why I had shaven my pubic area," he unbuttoned his pants revealing not only a very pretty pair of panties, but his completely shaved cock and balls.

"Honey, she was right, I need to focus on what you are doing that is turning me on," he finished taking off his pants and held out for my hand, taking me to our bedroom.

He had lit candles on the dressers and filled completely emptied the room of clutter. The scent of perfume was all around. And, laying on the bed was my strap-on.

He immediately went and picked up, walking towards me.

"Can I help you put it on?" he asked, handing it to me.

I was so surprised I didn't know what to say. While I was hoping we were going to try to make our sex life normal again, here I was, about ready to come standing up with my husband offering to make it more deviant than I had ever imagine. 

I shook my head yes and slowly, he removed my skirt and nylons, placing the strap-on over my hips. He carefully inserted the inner shaft inside of me and finished latching the straps. I barely moved, afraid that if I did, I would explode. I managed not to come, as he finished undressing me, leaving me in nothing but the harness.

He stood up and removed the rest of his clothes. He pulled my body up to his and we kissed for what felt like hours. I could feel his hard cock pressing against my hips, but every time we moved and it twitch against the strap-on I felt electricity shooting through me.

I reached down to touch him, he was so smooth and silky. I didn't know his cock could feel so good, I rubbed it up and down, feeling his little wet juice making it slippery. Oh how I had wanted that cock inside of me, but afraid to ask lest I break the mood.

He bent down to kiss my breasts, sucking the nipples deep into his mouth, oh how that made me wet and he knew it. Then slowly, with small kisses all down my belly he knelt in front of my shaft and pulled in gently into his mouth.

I looked down at him, my hands rubbing through his hair, behind his ears. His sucking motions sending the inner shaft in and out of my pussy, rubbing me unbearably close to orgasm with each thrust. His hands reaching behind me, rubbing my ass, pulling my deeper into his mouth. 

Just as I was ready to explode we gently fell back into the bed and kissed more, fondled more. I felt all over his clean shaven body, the silkiness turning me on more and more with each touch. I tried to roll him over on his back, but he resisted.

"No, I want to see you," he moaned as he spread his legs and rolled back, giving me a sexy view of his clean package.

I squeezed a little lube onto the strap-on and positioned myself between his legs. His face contorted almost immediately, he was so sexy, so vulnerable. He held his legs up while I slowly position the shaft, pressing it against him. In and out just a little at time, his face in agony.

"Fuck me," he groaned as I continued to slowly insert the shaft, a little at time until I felt a pop and the whole thing flooded in. 

I came, almost right then I felt my body shuddering, writhing. I looked down at his face and he was staring up at me. I started pulling the shaft in and out, pushing deeper and deeper inside of him, reaching frantically up to push my lips on top of his.

We gyrated and groaned, I felt him twitching under my weight, finally his wet seed spilling all over our bellies, but we kept going, kept kissing. I didn't want it to stop. 

I reached down for his hips and pulled them against me, thrusting again and again until I finally had a second explosion, this one even stronger than the first. I shook wildly as I leaned back and pulled his hips up in the air and against me, sending the shaft as deep inside as he would take me.

His face was a mixture of pain and pleasure, but mostly pleasure. Drool dripped down his face but he looked unable to wipe it, he looked paralyzed. 

I dropped back as my shudders subsided into little shakes, and we laid next to each other for the rest of the night. I don't know how much we slept or how much we touched each other, but it was certainly a sexy mixture of both.

"Honey," I whispered my head resting on his shoulder, "I think you need to keep shaving."



Amy Lynn The Story Ch. 04



I was starting to get a little frustrated. What started out as a game had turned into something of a ritual. I realized that part of me wanted to go back, but so much more of me was enjoying myself, but always looking for more. It was like a drug.

For a while it was insane. I was worried that my husband might be gay, the way he would suck on my strap-on and moan like a little schoolgirl when I shoved in inside of him, almost always coming without even so much as a little of my help.

He wasn't I was pretty sure. He was the same man I had married, only not in bed. We still went out with friends and none of them, I am certain not one, even has a clue to this day. To them we were just growing older, changing. I was becoming more forceful, getting what I wanted at work. He was getting mellower, more subdued. 

Of course it's hard to be a hot head when you're wearing pink perfumed panties and your cock and balls are all shaven like a little boy.

He was the same man, but he was different. I was certainly different.

We had gotten married when I was just out of college, but we met much earlier, when I was just sixteen. I had never been with anyone else before, and I hadn't since. I could count the number of boys I had kissed on one hand. For a long time I was proud of this, but as I got older, and we started down this crazy path, I wondered.

I'm sure I wondered partly because of the desire to have a man on top of me again, bearing down on me with his hard cock pushed so far inside of me I could burst. I missed being fucked as much as my husband seemed to enjoy it. This was hot, but just not the same.

We tried several times, each time ending in some sort of failure. I started not even getting hot when we tried anymore, almost knowing we were doomed to failure. He tried the Viagra, but while it did keep him hard, he never came. Even though he was inside of me, it never felt right, finished. It wasn't enjoyable, it felt like work.

I started taking more time away form home. I had a lot more work piled on me after two promotions and the desire for more. When my husband lost his job, we lost a considerable salary, I was hoping to make that back. I was working on it, and I didn't realize it, but all this play was working with me. It was empowering me everywhere.

But I still wanted something else. Something more exciting. That's what it was coming to, me looking for excitement, fulfilling some unmet need that I'm still uncertain of.

Then something unexpected happened. 

It was late on a Friday and I was looking at a pile of expense reports that had to be filed or accounting was going to eat me for lunch. I picked up my cell phone and called home.

"Honey," I started, "there is no way I'm going to be make it home for dinner tonight."

Silence. I knew he was upset. It was Friday, our day. I tried over and over to convince him that it was unavoidable. I would be reprimanded, punished or worse. Reluctantly, he understood and I went back to staring at an incredible pile of receipts.

"Ma'am", our administrative assistant Sandy said, knocking on the side of my office door. "I was assigned to lock up, Friday rules remember?"

My rules. Who would tell their office they had to be out by five on Friday no if ands or butts and then sit at her desk doing expense reports herself? I was in a bind.

"I have expense reports due yesterday," I smiled.

She wasn't taking no for an answer, another one of my rules. 

"Where is happy hour?" I stood up and gathered my belongings, giving in. "I told my husband I was going to be late."

I turned off the lights to my office and walked through the empty halls to the elevator. Sandy was adorable. I didn't know if she was twenty or thirty to be honest with you, I found out later she was twenty-two, but she was a doll. She was always the first one to work and the last to leave. Never complained, a literal dream.

"About happy hour," she pushed the button for the parking garage, "it's to close to the holidays, no one really wanted to go. I know you told me to organize when I could. I do have wine and cheese at home? It's nearby."

I tried to turn her down, telling her over and over again that I really should get home to my husband. I was sure he made something for dinner and he sounded hurt when I told him I wasn't going to make it home. She was a pushy one.

We drove to her place. It was a nice apartment and just a few blocks from my house.

"We should carpool," I asked as we walked up to her front door. She nodded.

The inside of her apartment was exactly as I had pictured. Perfect. Cleaner than clean. The coffee table was laid out with crackers and three bottles of wine. Otherwise not a piece of clutter anywhere.

"In case we had happy hour," she pointed at the table, "looks like at least two us will be happy. I'll get some cheese."

We sat down and chatted about work. I spilled the beans about a raise and bonus to which she gleefully opened up our second bottle of red wine. Then the talk turned more personal.

"I really admire you," she slid closer to me on the couch and reached across to pick a piece of cheese. "I really do."

If I could have seen myself I'm sure I was blushed cherry red, less from the wine than from the compliment.

"Thank you," I looked away, a little embarrassed.

She went on to tell me why. How when she started I was only a salesperson, and now, two promotions later I was a district sales manager. How I was strong in meetings and got what I wanted. But mostly, she talked about how I treated the men.

"I've never seen anything like it," she explained. "It's almost like you tell them what to do and they do it."

"That would make me the office bitch," I asked her worried.

"We're mostly women," she countered. "So yeah."

We laughed.

I told her I admired her too. Her work ethic. Her organization skills, she would never have let that pile of receipts pile up like that. All the while drinking more and more wine and eating less and less cheese.

Time crept up on us and soon it was well past happy hour.

"I've got to get going," I reached into my purse and fumbled for my keys. "It must be like nine."

She reached out to grab my hand and we somewhat playfully fought over the keys. She insisted I was in no shape to drive home and finally, after ending up halfway across my lap, I gave up.

She looked up at me and slowly moved her head in front of mine.

"You can't leave yet," she muttered, "because I haven't done this yet." 

She dropped the keys and reach her hands behind my head, slowly she pulled my face to her lips and she softly began kissing me. I was paralyzed. At first I tried to push her back, but found that I was almost unable to move my arms in protest. Her soft kisses sending streams of excitement through my body.

I had never been with a woman before, never thought of it except the occasional adult movie where it would turn me on in passing. There was something so alluring about her, about being with a woman that I had never considered before. I started to fall in love with the moment.

Finally I pulled up the courage to stop and with excruciating slowness, pushed her lips from mine.

"I'm sorry," she moved herself back to kiss me again, "Don't say no, I can hear you getting excited." 

With that she arranged herself towards my face and we made out. For a long time, I was unable to resist. Our tongues explored each others mouths, our ears and necks. Our hands explored each other's bodies. Her breasts were so perky, so different than mine.

My body was on fire. I hadn't made out with a person other than my husband since I was 15, and now I was here, with a girl who probably wasn't even born then. All of a sudden I felt horrible guilt. I was her boss. She was so young. I pushed her away and tried to find my keys.

"What's wrong?" she unbuttoned her blouse and let it drop down around her, her breasts out her bra from all of my fondling. I looked at her. Her blond hair and soft lips. Her beautiful round breasts and the sexiest pale pink nipples. I was turned on, but I was scared.

I made a bunch of excuses. Really good ones. I was her boss, I was so much older. We were both women and I hadn't done something like this before. I was married.

I was married. All this time and it didn't dawn on my that I was cheating on my husband. No, I was thinking about me, about how what I was doing was wrong, but never once about what I was doing was wrong to him.

She started to cry. 

I have never been very maternal. I had never considered having kids, though I never thought about not having them either. However, in this one moment, her crying was so unbearable, I buckled. 

I pulled her close to me and gave her a hug, her tears dripping down my cheek. I held her until it seemed as if her tears were subsiding and then looked into her swollen red eyes.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what else to say," I looked at her. She looked hurt. I couldn't bear it. I didn't even know how we started kissing and now I had hurt her. 

We reached our arms around each other and she lowered her head onto my chest while I caressed her.

"I've always admired strong women," she looked up at me, still sobbing occasionally. "I guess I got carried away."

With that she buried her head in my chest and I held her tight and reassured her. We had both gotten carried away. I held her, caressing her, her caressing me. It felt so good I didn't want to stop.

Before I knew it, she had managed to unbutton my blouse and with a sudden deft twitch of her fingers, my bra flung open. I gasped and quickly tried to cover myself.

"What are you doing?" I looked down at her but by this time she had buried her blond head onto my right breast and couldn't answer.

I felt my nipple going in and out of her mouth and I heard my body start churning. I tried pushing her off, but instead found myself holding her head, cupping it against my breasts. 

There was something about her touch, her body and mouth, everything that was different in a way I cannot explain. She was petite and so soft and sensuous. Her skin was silky smooth. Her smell was intoxicating. I don't know if it was because it was our first time, but I was mesmerized. I found myself unable to resist and soon we were both naked and in her bed.

We kissed and touched for what seemed like an eternity. I suckled her breasts like a baby, and she did mine. Then she slowly descended on me.

Her mouth felt like it was made to please me. I had never felt such exquisite pleasure as she gave me that night. Her lips found every sensuous spot between my legs and beyond, while her hands explored everywhere else. My back arced the moment her tongue flicked against my wet clit and it didn't stop until I had torn the sheets off her bed and screamed so loud I was hoarse. 

I laid back completely exhausted, panting, trying to build up the energy to go on. I rolled on my side and started to kiss her, the taste of my pussy all over her face. Her leg opened up and pressed hard against my thigh. I could feel her wetness sliding up and down on me.

I lowered myself and down and suckled on one of her breasts. God were they incredible breasts. I pulled the nipple into my mouth and rubbed it against my tongue before sliding deeper and deeper down.

I was scared. I could feel my body nervously shaking. She had just given me unspeakable pleasure and here I was feeling like a virgin on her first date. I hesitantly spread her legs and adjusted myself.

Her smell was overpowering. I had smelled myself on my husbands face or fingers, even tasted myself on his cock before, but this was so much stronger, and at the same time, intoxicating. I gently slid my tongue along her inner thigh, up towards her wet lips.

At first the taste was almost repugnant, then like a fine wine. I pulled her clit between my lips and reach my hands around to her breasts. I worked up and down her silky inside until I felt her hands pull my hair and pull me deep into her. 

Her body shook and writhed, all the while smothering my face with her love. It was incredible. She kept squirting and squirting out juices, my face tight against her, my tongue and nose surrounded by her sex until her body, in one last jerk collapsed.

We laid together for a while, touching each other until I noticed the time.

"Oh my god, I'm going to be shot," I started searching for my clothes which were all strewn about Sandy's apartment.

She helped me get dressed and clean up as best I could, but I could smell her sex all over my face. How was I going to explain that?

After a long kiss goodbye, where she convinced me that it was indeed her job to do my expense reports, I headed home. At midnight.

My husband was waiting for me on the couch as I opened the door silently.

"You're home?" he asked.

I told him about the expense reports and how long they took. How I missed him and was thinking about him the entire time, and that it distracted me from my work. 

Then I kissed him.

"You face smells like..." his words trailed off.

"I know, I was so hot thinking of you I played with myself all the way home," I pushed my fingers towards his face, "I rubbed it all over my face."

He started sucking my fingers and kissing all over my cheeks.

"It tastes good," he moaned, as I pulled his head to my lips and buried my tongue inside his mouth.



Amy Lynn The Story Ch. 05



It was wan awful weekend. I was consumed with guilt.

I felt guilty every time I saw my husband for cheating on him, but the funny thing was, it didn't feel like it was cheating really. I knew it was wrong to hide it from him, wrong to have done it really. I had, however, convinced myself it wasn't cheating, because he couldn't give me the things she gave me. Because she was a woman, I told myself, it was different, okay.

Then there was the all consuming guilt of having both sex with another woman, and sex with one of my employees. This guilt I couldn't talk myself out of. When I took my shower and washed myself I felt disgusted that I was with another woman, nothing like that moment where I couldn't say no. And then I'd think about it and start to desire all those feelings again, the guilt intertwined with the ecstasy, driving me mad.

I shied away from my husband's advances all weekend. He was becoming more and more amorous as we continued exploring his sexuality, but this weekend, I couldn't handle it. I was consumed with thoughts of Friday, and of Monday morning.

I made it through the weekend, but Monday was going to prove daunting. I woke up early to shower and tried to convince myself I was sick. I had never called in sick to work a day in my life, so while it might have been a plausible excuse, Sandy would have known.

"But maybe she'll call in sick," I thought to myself, "or quit."

Here I was tearing myself apart over something that was so awful, so wrong. What had I gotten myself into? My life was insane. I was feeling overwhelmed. My job was piling on top of me, and now I went and really complicated my work life. 

And then there was my husband. I was starting to realize that this crazy joke I played was going on way too long. Was it a joke? It didn't seem like one for him, he was embracing his role. The house was never cleaner, the food never tasted better.

It was the sex. For a while the power is intoxicating. I felt so strong watching him on his hands and knees pleasing me, or spreading his cheeks out and begging me to put myself inside of him. It's no wonder I went and had sex with a woman, I thought, I married one.

It was about then that my husband woke up and asked me what was wrong.

"I think I'm too sick to go to work," I faked sniffling and crawled back into bed.

"Oh honey," he grabbed my back and started to rub my muscles, "I think you're just stressed out and we didn't do anything about it this weekend."

I wanted to brush him away. I felt dirty letting him touch me, like I was using him. He slowly worked my muscles until he was at the small of my back then flipped me over. Then he gently massaged the inside of my thighs as he pressed my legs open, revealing my inner lips.

"Honey, I don't feel up to it," I reached a hand down to cover myself from his gaze, but he slipped it away and soon his face was buried deep within me.

It didn't feel like much at first, his tongue searching around looking for a place to make me shudder, then I closed my eyes and I saw her. Sandy was between my legs and all of a sudden my body was consumed with passion. I felt my juices dripping between my legs and his tongue.

I reached down and pulled his head deeper and deeper towards me. His tongue pressed passionately between my legs, his hands exploring my breasts.

I started to scream, pulling on his head, hoping to push it deeper inside of me, want it to fill me, consume me. I lurched up in the air, repeatedly pushing my sex hard against his face, almost beating him with it, and then, suddenly, I collapsed.

"So are you good for work now?" he slid up behind me, wiping his face on his t-shirt before discarding it.

"Yes," I laid there quietly for a moment, "I guess I'll need another shower though."

I drove to work disgusted with myself. I felt sick, my stomach was tied in knots. What was Sandy going to do? How could I fantasize about a gay relationship while my husband was trying to please me? 

I pulled over into a parking lot and started crying.

It took me a while to collect myself and convince myself that I couldn't look back, only forward. I drove off to work.

"I was still early," I thought, as I walked off the elevator and strolled past the empty cubicles towards my office. "Maybe she won't be here yet."

I was wrong.

I opened the door to my office and saw her sitting at my desk and at that moment, I fell in love. My legs immediately buckled, I could barely hold myself standing up. The sight of her sent my stomach to my throat. I realized, whatever had happened had done something to me.

The look in eyes said all the same things back to me. She was radiant. I walked over to my side of the desk, not even noticing that my expense reports were already filed away, and touched her on the shoulder, not really knowing how to proceed. 

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be in your chair," she quickly stood up, pushing the chair out from underneath her.

"It's okay," I laughed, "are we alone?"

She walked to my office door and closed it quietly.

"We are now," she walked up to me and gently placed her arms around my side, cupping my ass in her hands.

I pulled her closer, one hand on the small of her back, the other on her shoulder, and then we kissed.

My body melted. I felt the pressure of the weekend drift away. Her tongue gently explored my mouth, mine hers, our hands holding each other as close as possible.

"I'm sorry," she said, pulling herself back and straightening up her skirt and blouse. "I was so nervous you were going to hate me. I couldn't sleep all weekend."

"Me too," I was so relieved.

Then things felt awkward. 

"I did your expense reports and filed hem with accounting," she pointed out the folders on my desk, "no one was there yet, but I dropped them in the drop box."

She went on about how she could help me with them and other things, but all I could do is look at her. She was wonderful. She looked wonderful, her eyes and hair. Her lips. 

"When can we see each other again?" I got closer to her. "I don't know why, but I can't stop thinking about you."

She placed her finger on my lips as if to tell me to be quiet then leaned up and whispered in my ear.

"You know where I live, I'll be waiting."

I don't know if it was the words or her warm breath in my ear, but my body quivered with intense excitement. I couldn't peel my eyes off of her slender body as she walked out of my office towards her desk. I wanted her, but when was I going to find the time.

I sat at my desk and realized that she had made the time. My expense reports were finished, a bunch of purchase orders to sign were collated in the center of my desk, and a bagel, still warm, with cream cheese sat in a bag to my side.

If I wasn't in love when I opened the door and saw her that morning, I was certainly in love by then. I reached my hand between my legs and pressed in hard, shudder after shudder driving me mad. I felt insatiable and always, at the back of my mind, guilty about being gay.

I spent that day trying to work. Luckily most of it was laid out in front of me in neat little packages. Finally, as the day wound down, I went to find Sandy and thank her for all of her hard work, but I couldn't find her. Disheartened, I headed home.

I had dinner with my husband over the usual small talk. Pangs of guilt passed through me as I lied about the expense reports again, and never mentioned Sandy or her incredible organizing.

"I think I'm going to go for a walk," I got up from the dinner table, "I need some time to myself."

I bundled up and said I'd be back in a little while, maybe a couple of hours if I found somewhere to get a drink.

It was then that I could tell he thought I was cheating on him. I felt terrible. I gave him a big hug and slid out the door, purposely walking the wrong way to Sandy's house. It was official, I now felt like I was a cheating spouse, be it with a woman or not.

When I got to Sandy's the apartment was dark. I stood on the street outside and thought about what to do. Was she there? Why couldn't I find her at work? All the nervousness from the weekend felt like it was creeping back over me. I worked up the courage to ring the bell.

"Hello?" her voice crackled through a tinny speaker. 

"It's me, Amy," I answered. 

The door buzzed and I opened it and went inside. Sandy was standing in her door waiting for me wearing a workout outfit. She looked so young out of her work clothes, and so vulnerable. What was I doing I kept asking myself, but never stopping.

"You look so breathtaking," I walked close and our lips gently met as the door closed behind us. We couldn't wait to get our hands on each other, her hands frantically tugging my shirt loose enough that she could reach and up massage my breasts, me working mine up and down her back.

We stumbled, undressing, our lips never parting, to her bed. My shirt and bra dropping to the floor as I fell towards her.

Our lips met and then explored each others bodies. She was so wonderful and soft, her skin tasted like honey. I lowered myself to one of her breasts and pulled it into my mouth, her nipples hard against my tongue.

She rolled me over started rubbing my entire body. Her hands exploring from between my thighs to my hair and back again finally her mouth settling around one of my full breasts. 

I reach my hand down and caressed my fingers through her hair, her mouth gently pulling my nipple around her tongue. I felt a surge of sex run through me, looking down at her.

I never let my husband spend so much time latched against my breasts, I always felt it was weird. Like he had an infatuation. Sandy, though, oh looking down at her while I caressed her, I never wanted her to stop.

She switched to the other side, my body shuddering as if it were left in the cold until her mouth pulled my nipple inside, then slowly, she stopped and looked up at me.

"Don't stop," I moaned.

She didn't listen and slowly rotated her head between my legs, her hips above my face.

Her lips were glistening pink. I hadn't noticed that she was completely bare the other night, or maybe it was new. I couldn't take my eyes off of her, her smell filling my nose with intoxicating vapor. She lowered herself onto me and my tongue quickly explored her.

I felt her fingers spread me, and then the wet sliding of her tongue against my very soul. She made me burst in pleasure nearly at her first touch, and my body writhed and flailed beneath her, her sex pressed tight against my tongue, writhing with me. I exploded in a series of loud screams muffled by her hips and legs squeezing tight against me. I could feel her own moans vibrate through my lips, my clit and up into my spine.

We shook and moved for what felt like hours. Our bodies press so tight against each other we would be both be bruised for a week. I didn't care, I wanted to crawl inside of her, to be as close as I could to her. I wanted to consume her.

We fell back in her bed, her head resting upon my breast while I caressed her. We talked, about a lot of things, though steering clear of my personal life except for some vague statements. We were falling deep in love.

"I'm so sorry," I lowered my head to kiss her, "but I said I'd be home in a couple of hours and it's been three."

We cleaned up her place, and I tried to freshen up so I wouldn't smell so much like sex, but Sandy's smell was pungent. I did my best.

We had another long kiss good bye and I headed home.



Amy Lynn The Story Ch. 07



"I'm not gay," were the first words I heard over breakfast the next morning, "I don't know what happened."

I smiled and assured them that I never thought he was gay. I thought he was sexy, and what happened the previous night was huge turn on.

"I'm not sure I can see you with another man again," he continued, "I couldn't just watch. I couldn't watch you with him, you know, that's why I joined you. So I didn't have to watch."

I felt terrible guilt again. Even though it was his idea, I could stop it. I could say no, but I didn't say no. I went along with it. 

The thought of Gabe's cock, how big it was, how different. His thick pubic hair and that long, incredibly wide shaft filling me, pulling me wider apart than I ever imagined possible was lingering in my head. 

I looked back at my husband as he continued on and on, trying to reassure himself that he wasn't gay. It was cute. I knew he wasn't gay, but I could tell he was feeling guilty about enjoying himself.

"I mean when he kissed me I thought I was going to throw up," John stood up and cleared the morning dishes, "and his thing, that was so different feeling, not smooth and sexy like your strap-on, and it had a taste."

I looked at his butt, smiling, thinking of that huge cock stuffed inside of it. I wanted to touch myself, but I knew that would hurt him. I resisted.

"I think I'm going to walk to the coffee shop," I stood up, "want to join me?"

"I can't walk that far, honey," John scrubbed the dishes, not even turning his head, "I'm really sore."

I rubbed his bottom and gave him a hug then bundled up.

The walk to the coffee shop had taken me perilously close to Sandy's house, and the return of unbearable guilt. How could we continue like this? 

I thought about the irony in all of it. My husband at home, doing dishes, convincing himself that while he had sex with a man, he wasn't at all gay. Me standing in front of my gay lovers apartment wondering how things got this complicated. How I ended up, for all practical purposes, a lesbian.

I lingered there for a while, not sure about the coffee anymore. Not really sure about anything anymore. My life had spiraled from normal to this. This was as far from normal as I could have imagined. If I had a time machine and went back and told myself what happened, I'd probably thought I should be committed, or at least bold face lying.

"Are you going to come in?" I snapped out of my daydream and saw Sandy standing at her building door. "You've been standing there for fifteen minutes, it's cold out here."

I smiled. As much as everything was in shambles, a part of me still need to be with her. To talk to her, feel her warm breath, her soft skin. 

"What were you doing out there?" Sandy poured a mug full of coffee and handed it to me.

"Thinking," I smiled, taking a sip of the coffee. "About you, about things."

We had to talk. I couldn't go on like this. It was killing me. I was cheating on my husband, a husband who just let me cheat on him. I shouldn't be hiding everything. I started talking about me, about my life up until this craziness happened.

"Then," I looked away embarrassed, "he got laid off and I started, you know, treating my husband more like my wife."

"What do you mean?" Sandy looked confused. "Like having him do the laundry and stuff? I mean this isn't your mom and dad, things have changed."

Of course she was confused, I was confused and I was living it. 

"More than that," I touched Sandy's leg, "I make him wear panties."

Sandy giggled, and I started too. We didn't stop. We giggled for twenty minutes, like little schoolgirls with a secret.

"There's more," I caught my breath, "a lot more."

"No there isn't," Sandy spit her coffee into her lap and tried to mop it up, "What more can there be?"

"I fuck him," I looked at her. "I mean, I, fuck, him. I stick it in his ass and he comes all over the sheets like a teenager, two seconds and he's done."

"No way?" Sandy moved closer to me and started massaging my thighs, "you fuck him in the ass?"

Sandy started working her hands under my shirt to find my breasts. Her hands sending shivers to me. Telling her the story was bringing me to the brink of explosion, each word, sending electricity through my spine, my hair on end.

"Has he really been fucked yet?" Sandy lifted my shirt and gently started kissing my breasts.

Here I thought this story, this openness would turn her off, give me an exit out, but it was pulling her in deeper, me in deeper. I felt my nipple against her tongue, her mouth warmly exploring it.

"No," I reached to find some part of her soft skin to touch, "I think that would be too much, even for him."

I lied. I didn't know why, it was a lie that I would have to explain later, but I didn't know that at the time. Part of me feels like I lied because I worked with Sandy and by this time I thought I had already done too much, said too much. Most of me lied for him, because the thought of him already tormented by his actions, and now, a stranger knowing about them filled me with guilt.

We laid in each others kissing embrace for a long time. Both of us inching closer and closer to the inevitable release we always enjoyed together. Her hands and lips were so good at finding the right places to touch. My ears, my nipples, the small of my back and beyond.

Finally her fingers found their way between my legs and shudders of ecstasy raced through my veins. I shook at her touch, trembling beneath her lips, her hands exploring me, turning me over the edge until at last my body went rigid in excitement and my juices burst into her waiting hands.

Her body too was shaking, her thighs straddling one of mine, pressed tight against me. Our bodies shaking together, each of us embracing the other tighter and tighter until our bodies felt like one.

We laid in each other arms on the sofa.

"How come you've never fucked me?" Sandy looked into my eyes.

"I never thought of it," I really hadn't. The thought had never even crossed my mind. I don't know why. 

"I'd like to one day," Sandy smiled, "and I want to see your husband in panties."

I felt my stomach quiver as she finished that sentence. The thought of my lover seeing my husband like that was sending question after question through my head. Why does she want to see him like that? How would he react? What will he say if he finds out about Sandy? When he finds out about Sandy.

"One day," I smiled nervously, "maybe I'll take a picture for you."

"I want more than a picture," I felt Sandy squeeze my leg, "I want you."

Sandy was insatiable after I told her about my husband. She wanted gory details and every little story seemed to turn her mad with desire. Our lovemaking sessions growing longer and longer. As much as I hated living this lie, I couldn't find the willpower to leave. I felt helpless against my raw desire for her love.

I kept living the lie. I took so many walks to the coffee shop, sometimes twice a day, that my husband thought I had a new found love for bitter water. 

We never tried finding another man, even though I hinted it would be okay. I didn't want to press things. I was afraid if I did things would change. I couldn't take change right then, everything in my life so precariously balanced, I was afraid if something changed it'd all fall apart.

Our loving making was improving. I found that he almost always had to be stimulated from behind to get hard, but after that, could manage to fuck me, at least once in a while. It wasn't a marathon, but under the right circumstance it was nice. 

It was spring. Everything felt good. Sandy was amazing at work. I knew I was going to have to promote her, but how? Everyone thought she was my pet, my favorite. She was, but she was working so hard, she would have been my best employee regardless. I kept making excuses for keeping her with me, but I knew I had to lose her.

Then my entire life came crashing down.

It was a Friday near the end of the day when it happened. I was called into my bosses office. I was never called into my bosses office, he always had made a meeting with me before.

"We're closing this office," the words echoed in my head over and over again, "we're shutting it all down. Today."

I was shocked. One minute I was commanding the respect of fifty people, earning a six figure salary, and the next I was being told we were all being let go. I thought of all the lives it would affect, the families, it was devastating.

"Today? All of it?" I stammered.

It was the saddest day to this point of my life. Telling people they had no more job, one by one they came to my office. I saw grown men weeping like little babies. Women and men embracing, each of them looking like they were at a funeral. Their funeral.

"How are you doing?" my boss came into my office and closed the door. "I know this is hard. It's hard for me too."

I swore at him. He told me, I told everyone else. I glared at him.

"Why did you do it? Why did you wait?" I was angry. "You could have given them some idea, me some idea. We worked our asses off for you and your corner office and your fancy car and ugly wife and kids."

I stopped, knowing I crossed the line.

"It's okay," he took the opening, "I found out this morning. I was in my office crying all morning thinking about it. I thought I might be having a heart attack, seriously."

"I'm sorry," my face softened, "It's been a hard day. I didn't mean what I said."

We talked for a while, about my severance, my stocks.

"You're actually doing pretty well by this," he handed me a piece of paper with a bunch of numbers on it, one very large one circled near the bottom. "They've vested you one hundred percent."

I did do pretty well, but I didn't have a job and I didn't know how I was going to find one. 

Then there was Sandy. I hadn't told her, she found out from someone else. I wanted to tell her. Just to see her, to have someone to talk to, but it didn't happen. She was gone, off to a bar somewhere with her friends. 

I wandered home in my car in a daze. Several wrong turns later, finally finding my driveway, I stayed in the car. Composing myself. 

Again the irony of the situation smacked me in the nose. I wonder how my husband had felt that day that he got laid off and he had to come in and tell me. I wondered if he felt as sick as I did. I wondered if he had a gay lover too, then laughed, working up the courage to go inside.

"Honey," I called out, "are you here? I need to talk."

He walked out from the living room.

"We do need to talk," he looked confused.

I walked towards him and all the blood rushed from my body as I saw Sandy, her beautiful blue eyes puffy and red, a tissue against her nose.

I stood there frozen. What had I done?

"Sandy told me," John reached out and pulled me close for a hug. 

I just burrowed my head against his shoulder and felt the tears rushing from inside of me. I couldn't hold back and I sobbed and sobbed. I tried to cry all the pain of the day away.

Sandy slid slowly behind me, her own sobs jolting her body, pulled herself against my back. I felt her cold tears soaking my shirt, her breasts pressing against my back. What a mess this was.

"What did she tell you," I sobbed, "I had to lay off fifty people today."

"She told me everything," John pulled me closer.

At least he was still holding me I thought at first, but I felt Sandy's hands gently rubbing me. Had she told him everything? What was everything really? The tears slowly replaced by the fear of what he knew, or what he didn't know.

John slowly moved to the couch and we all sat together. I found out that John's version of everything was, luckily, not really much of anything. He said that he knew Sandy was the girlfriend I would talk to about work when I went on my walks, that she worked for me.

He then told me how she rang the door at four and was standing on the porch sobbing. How uncomfortable it made him feel and what the neighbors might have thought. 

"She somehow convinced me to let her in," his story went on, "telling me she was your assistant at work and really bad things happened. Though I could barely understand her through her sobs. I thought you might have been dead."

I looked over at Sandy, her sobbing completely controlled now, but her nose and eyes still puffy and red. What did this mean for us I wondered? Certainly now things couldn't be the same.

"I told him about all the jobs," I was relieved when Sandy started to finish the story, knowing she'd retell the parts I needed to know. "How I was going to lose my apartment without any money. How much I was going to miss you, your mentoring."

She winked and smiled.

"And then I asked him if he really wore panties," she looked at me and let out a giggle. "And he gave me a little peek."

I couldn't believe it. I was scared. What had just happened? I told her a secret and she used it? 

"You didn't?!" I looked at her angrily.

John hugged me.

"You said you didn't tell anyone," John pulled me closer, "but once she asked I figured there was no reason to lie. Are there no secrets girlfriends don't share with each other?"

We talked for a long time the three of us. It was nice, the thought of sex never crossing my mind. Just friendship. 

"You should stay with us," John held his hand out for Sandy, "we have four bedrooms. At least until you get back on your feet."

Before I could say it was a horrible idea, Sandy had agreed and they were making arrangements to empty her apartment into our basement.

It took a while, but the thought of my two lovers in the same house was both exhilarating and frightening. He was going to find out. I was going to have to tell him. We were going to have to tell him.

"I'm getting tired, it's been a long day," I gave John a hug walking over to Sandy to embrace her.

"You can stay as long as you want," I pulled Sandy's body to me, gently reaching my arms around her in a friendly hug.

She pulled me closer and pushed her lips against mine, her tongue parting my lips wide and exploring my mouth. I felt my knees buckle. I looked at John, his eyes fixed on mine. I leaned my head back and let her in, unable to resist.

"I told him," Sandy whispered in my ear, "he was really mad at first, then I told him he'd get to watch."

I pulled her body against mine and pressed my lips to her. How did she do it? Why wasn't he wanting to kill her right now?

"He was still angry," she smiled her face in front of mine, "but his cock wasn't, it was trying to break out of his pants."

"Honey?" I looked over at John, still on the couch, his obvious bulge twitching. "Is this okay?"

He looked scared. Excited and scared.

"I don't want any more secrets," he nodded his head at me, "if you have anymore I need to know about..."

I shook my head forcefully no.

"I said he'd get to watch," Sandy smiled, unbuttoning my blouse and freeing my breasts for her touch. "I wouldn't want disappoint him."

She lowered her head to my breast and pulled it into her mouth. I looked over at John, his cock freed from his pants, his hand wrapped around it, tugging it gently. I heard my belly churning juices towards my legs.

We drifted to the bedroom, our two bodies embracing like they did some many times. Her hands exploring me, driving me to the brink of exploding pleasure. Every once in a while, my husbands pants reminding me he was there, this was for him as much as it was for me. 

The guilt I had been feeling was slowly eroding with each suckle of my breast, touch of her lips against mine, her hands exploring me.

She moved her hips over my face, slowly lowering herself down on me I felt her hot body engulf my face, my tongue searching her, shudders running through our bodies, she lowered her head between my legs. I exploded, the warmth of her breath, the sliding tongue against my clit, my husbands pants, all sending quivers of joy through my body.

I pulled her closer to me, her taste smothering my face. How I loved that taste of her. How it stayed with me for days afterward in the back of my throat. I pulled her inside of me and felt her body writhe, her moans deepening until she too was in her own throes of ecstasy. 

As our lovemaking subsided, I felt my husbands warm body sliding on the bed next to me, his cock obviously spent sometime in the middle of his show. We laid together all of us that night, me in the middle, both of them touching me, until we drifted off to sleep.

It's been working out, surprisingly. My husband went back to work. We both laughed that Sandy found us both our jobs. She got me on websites, found colleagues for me, answered half my emails. It was like she was still working for me. 

She found a job too, but not working with me. I wanted to hire her but I refused to. It caused trouble for a while, but she's over it. She knows it's for the best.

Funny thing is, she got back on her feet pretty quick, but she never moved out. I'm happy she didn't, but I still have a hard time explaining any of this to my parents.

Oh, and John, not so fond of wearing panties anymore. I kind of miss it.



Amy Lynn The Story Ch. 06



"Are you cheating on me?" were the first words from a disturbed husband when I got home.

I had thought about what to say, but I still didn't know. Of course I flatly denied it. I told him that work was really driving me crazy and that I walked to a co-workers house to vent. I've been with a friend, a girlfriend.

She was a girlfriend, I told him I'd take him to her house. He half accepted it, if only because I was so convincing. 

"If you need, you know, need that feeling, it's okay," he looked down dejected. "I just need to know."

I didn't know what he was saying. Was telling me it was okay to cheat? Why would he want to know? If he was cheating on me and I knew I'd kill him. My mind was reeling.

We had a long talk where he professed how he knew I was upset about certain aspects of our lovemaking. I assured him that I was not upset about any aspect of our lovemaking, even though I was. 

I wanted him inside of me so bad. I wanted thirty minute marathon session, and he could barely sprint if and when he could run at all. I was frustrated more than upset.

"It's okay, we just need to make some rules," he worked up the courage to say. "I want to be there, and we can't know him."

Him. Little did my husband know that it was "her" he had really wanted to know.

Slowly, as he talked more about the "rules" the idea was taking hold in my head. He was offering me a chance to have sex with another man. I was both scared beyond belief and soaking with sex at the mere thought of it. 

What would it be like having a man other than my husband? Would he be different? More rough or more gentle? Bigger or smaller?

"Honey," I mustered, "it's okay, I love what we have."

I reached out my hands and rubbed his legs reassuringly, then gave him a hug, before moving closer, kissing him passionately and moving off to the bedroom.

Between the three hours with Sandy and the hour long talk about me sleeping with another man, I was mad with lust. I through him to the bed and stripped him down to his panties. His cock was pointed straight up and rigid, tight against the pink silk. 

I stripped off my pants, panties and all and spread my legs over his hips. I could feel this heat of his shaft so close to me, I couldn't resist him.

I slid the panties to the side, springing his cock free, and quickly pushed it towards my wanting lips. I felt him shudder and jerk as he found my opening and thrust himself inside, my juices dripping between us. 

I slowly thrust my hips up and down on him, the feeling of his shaft inside of me, filling me with his heat, pulling me gently apart, was incredible. I pulled my shirt over my head and bent over to kiss him, his cock moving slowly in and out against my wet lips.

"You feel so good," I moaned as I started licking his throat, his ears and cheeks.

I felt him stiffen inside of me as he grasped my shoulders tight, pushing me hard against him. I writhed my hips, squeezed him inside of me, his seed filling me with warmth. I held on to his shaft, squeezing everything I could out, I didn't want to let him go.

I held him there while he went completely soft, kissing him gently, loving him. It had been so long that I didn't want to let him out.

"Did you," he asked without finishing the sentence.

I smiled. I shook my head no, but I really didn't care. 

He slowly slid down between my legs and despite my protesting, spread them and then, with a tentative motion, slid his tongue gently against my inner lips. 

I felt my body shuddering almost immediately. His tongue slowly exploring me, sliding in and out of me, up and down. I grabbed for something, anything, as his fingers joined in, his tongue and fingers sliding in the mixture of our two juices sent me into an orgasmic explosion that lasted until finally, exhausted, I fell back into the bed, his mouth lingering between my legs.

The next morning I woke up early and made breakfast, cleaned the kitchen and started a load of laundry. I know it sounds silly, or cliché, but I felt like a woman again. It felt good. It felt right.

I could still feel him inside of me, still feel the warmth of his shaft driving deep within me and I wanted it again and again.

We tried again over the next couple of weeks, but to no avail. I was getting frustrated with him and he could tell. I found myself taking a lot more walks and spending a lot less evenings at home.

For her part, Sandy was getting frustrated with me. She wanted to spend more time with me, for me to spend the night, to go on dates. To be partners, not just lovers. She wanted me to leave my husband, to be with her.

I thought about all of this in one of my reflective moods. Here I was now, a year into a crazy time with my husband trying to juggle an affair and a crazy hard job. I was on the verge of a breakdown and the people I would have counted on to help me through it were causing the breakdown. 

I felt alone.

I thought about all the solutions. I didn't see myself with Sandy forever. I loved her dearly but it felt like an infatuation, an illusion of love, masked with incredible lust. I was sure she'd feel the same way soon and we'd both drift apart.

My husband. I couldn't just leave him. I made a vow, and, while things have been better and worse, he's done nothing wrong. I have. I was the one who made the mistakes. I was the one who drove the bus into this wreck, not him.

I was paralyzed and so I did nothing. Everything stayed the same. No one was happy.

"I've thought about it again," my husband explained at dinner one night, "and I put an ad on the Internet. I figure if I'm with you it's safe."

I was dumbfounded. I had never said yes, or even hinted at yes, and now he was moving forward. I protested but he got down on his knees at my side.

"I want this for you," he held my hand "I've had other women, you haven't. Oh you know what I mean."

I let out an uncomfortable laugh which he took as a yes. 

"I had several responses," he tugged on my hand, "want to see?"

We looked through the emails at his computer. There were a couple of men that were drop dead, but I tried no to let on that I liked any of them. I was scared. I wasn't even sure I could go through with it, and I told him such, but he kept on.

"I kind of think you'll like this guy," he pulled up an email with a picture of a very young brown haired man, boy really. "He's a graduate student and he said he's very interested after seeing your photo."

He sent my photo out to a stranger? I didn't know what to think. I was both angry and excited that someone, somewhere was looking at a picture of me and thinking sexy thoughts. 

"Can I contact him? Tell him it's okay?" my husband snapped me out of my daydream.

Looking at his picture, I started thinking about what he'd look like next to me, how he'd feel, smell and slowly I nodded yes.

Waiting was terrible. I wish he would have just come over that very moment and we could have gotten over with, but it was two weeks before our schedules met. For those two weeks I was insatiable. I would go to Sandy's for two or three hours then come home and be with my husband at least as long. I'd touch myself in the bathroom, at my desk, nothing was enough. I was electric.

Finally the Gabe came to our house for dinner.

My husband made some of his best dishes and served the two of us before retiring to his office. I felt so weird sitting across from a stranger having small talk. I found myself listening less and less to his conversation and thinking more and more about our future lovemaking. His looks were distractingly cute, if not beautiful. His personality was wonderful, happy. 

We finished dessert moved on to the living room.

I had no idea how to proceed. It was all very awkward. Did I just start kissing him? Do we sit and talk for a while and slowly kiss him? Does he kiss me? I hoped he would just kiss me and we could rip each others clothes off.

He didn't.

"Your husband," he said quietly as we sat down on the couch in my living room, "I know he's okay with this, but it makes me uncomfortable. I'd rather have him watch."

Watch? We didn't talk about anything like that. Would he want to watch? I'd get sick if I saw him with another woman. I wouldn't want to watch.

I excused myself and went to talk to my husband. He was very distraught at the idea, looking almost sick. I told him that the boy wouldn't go through with it if he didn't watch, or at least wasn't in the same room. He very reluctantly agreed, as long as he could look away the entire time.

He followed me the living room and sat in a far chair while I slipped back onto the couch with my date, almost forgetting my husband was there at all.

"You are very attractive," I pulled my shirt over my head, my ample chest pressed tight against a black lace bra. I could feel his eyes swallow me in, as I bent my head to his and gently kissed his lips.

At first he was very shy, his hands only barely touching my breasts, concentrating mostly on my arms and face. I unsnapped the bra, letting myself swing free, letting him know it was okay. 

His hands found my breasts and he fondled them with the vigor of a teenager.

Occasionally I found him looking at my husband, my husband looking back. Was my husband turning him on? Was he turning on my husband?

I reached down to Gabe's pants and slowly unbuttoned them. My stomach was all butterflies as I pushed the pants down, then his boxer briefs, revealing his very large, very hard shaft. 

"Touch me there, oh my god," he moaned as I tried to wrap my hand around him. He was so much larger than my husband I was afraid. "I want you both to touch me."

I immediately looked at my husband who looked ready to throw up. So that's why he had wanted him to watch? I shook my head no and kept rubbing him.

"Please," he begged.

I lowered my head between his legs and slowly pulled his member into my mouth. It was so large I could barely pull much of it in and instead found myself running my tongue and fingers along it's length.

I felt a hand join mine, and looked up and saw my husband, on his knees, guiding the cock towards my face. I didn't know what to feel, but the lust of the moment caught up with me. I opened my mouth and slid the cock deep inside of me, then, I passed it to my husband.

I found myself massaging my husbands back and hair in a comforting reassuring way. I couldn't believe he was doing this for me. We found our lips meeting on the top his shaft, our tongue flicking in and out of each other mouths then down the long piece.

I grabbed both of their hands and led them toward the guest room, which I had all prepared with candles and fresh sheets. We fell back onto the bed.

Gabe grabbed for my husband pants and before we knew it was pulling them down, revealing my husbands panties.

Up until this time, no one except for me knew his secret. I had told no one and I'm certain he didn't. The thought of someone finally knowing was too much for me, I started to shudder, my legs wrapped tightly around Gabe's thigh.

Gabe reached down, and without acknowledging the panties, shifted my husbands cock free and into his hand.

The sight of my husband being held by this man, this very well endowed man holding my average sized husband in his grasp, made me explode. I couldn't remove my eyes as he pushed and pulled my husbands cock until it began to ooze slightly.

I reached my hand out to Gabe's hips and started rubbing him stiff, shudders still jerking through my body.

Gabe pulled my husbands head to his and their lips met. I could see my husband's body go limp, his mouth opening, letting Gabe's tongue explore him, Gabe's hands exploring his body.

I rolled over to my back and spread my legs. Reaching down, I slipped a condom on Gabe's cock and pulled it towards me, letting him know it was time. I needed him.

Gabe rolled over, his legs shifting mine wider and wider apart until I could feel the tip of his hot shaft pressing against me, pressing to get inside of me.

My husband came around and put my head in his lap, caressing my hair. I twas unbelievable. I looked up into his eyes and let out small groan as Gabe's cock popped inside of me and then slid in deep. It was excitably. His cock was so big, so filling, it pulled me apart. I had always thought my husband to be more than adequate, but this, this was extraordinary.

He pushed and pushed on me. Giving me the full brunt of his weight, I felt full. Then he rolled me over and pushed some more. His cock getting deeper and deeper, pressing as far in as it could go, pushing against me in pain and pleasure. 

Finally I exploded. My husband holding me against his chest, Gabe ceaselessly pounding against me. I sat there screaming to no end, my ecstasy felt infinite. When I finally finished, I felt finished. 

Gabe slowly pulled himself off of me, his cock springing straight up. He hadn't come.

I rolled over and removed the condom to put him in my mouth, but he quickly grabbed another one and put it on.

"Come here," he motioned.

I started to come closer, but he grabbed John by his shoulder and turned his back towards him. 

My heart lurched to my throat when I saw him slide his cock between my husbands cheeks, his hands reaching around, massaging his cock.

"It's okay isn't it?" he whispered into my husbands ear, pressing towards him not waiting for an answer.

I could see Gabe's cock slowly pushing against John's anus. John's pants getting louder and louder the harder he pushed. He looked down at me almost apologizing as I watched Gabe's shaft slowly disappear between his cheeks.

He fell forward to his hands and knees, Gabe slowly pressing deeper and deeper into him. I didn't know what to do, I just stayed there and watched.

My husbands cock grew firm at first, Gabe's hands massaging it as Gabe's own cock slowly burrowed into my husbands ass, then out again.

Gabe was much slower fucking my husband than he had been with me, and watching him go in and out was excruciating. The look on my husbands face going from pain to horror to pleasure with each thrust. I watched for what felt like twenty minutes.

Gabe grabbed his shoulder and pulled himself deep inside. I couldn't just watch anymore, I started to play with myself, not sure if I should interrupt.

"See, she likes it," Gabe bent over and whispered in John's ear, "and I think you like it too. First I fuck your wife, then you. Right." 

"I want her to see your face when I come," he turned John towards me.

He looked scared. Really scared. I could tell he was turned on too, but he mostly looked scared. I reached my hand out to touch his, watching Gabe slowly, rhythmically, pull in and out. I felt terrible but unbelievably turned on watching him being taken like this. Like I take him.

I bent forward and kissed him. I felt all the power again. I was in charge. I convinced myself this was my idea to have him taken, and I started to get hot all over again.

I got underneath him, his smooth cock inches from my wanting sex. I kissed him passionately and raised my hips up to greet his cock, searching for it to fill my opening, finally letting him inside.

I saw Gabe's hands reach out and forcefully grab John's shoulders, pulling the two of them tight against each other. Then he pushed John down, my husbands cock buried in me, the weight of two men bearing down on top of me. We all started to come.

I could feel Gabe's cock inside of my husband, pulse after pulse inside of his belly, each pulse sending my husband deeper into me, their weight was crushing. 

My husbands seed came next, filling me with his hot shaft and warm fluids, I felt it dripping out between my legs. I let out a series of loud groans as my body billowed into explosion, unable to move. My husbands tongue exploring deep inside of my mouth I shook to climax.

We lay there for an hour afterwards, all of us tired. It was very awkward. I didn't know who I should cuddle with, or if I should just get up and get cleaned. Finally Gabe broke the ice.

"I should get going," he rubbed my leg, "that was incredible."

And he left. We never saw him again.