Let him use me in front of my husband

When you get sex that you cannot forget, it will make you do stuff you wouldn’t believe.

Brandon sat on the blue chair, tucked neatly into the corner of the dimly-lit, intimate living room. It was his favorite place to sit in the house, and gave him an excellent view of the couch. Beside him, a small table with his gin tonic in a sturdy glass. Cannabis smoke wafted through the air.

Chris and I sat on opposite ends of the couch. At the time, it would have seemed awkward for one of us to be sitting on the middle cushion when the whole couch was available. I guess it would have been a little crowded for all three of us to be on the couch. But why wasn’t Chris in the chair? Well, it’s Brandon’s favorite chair so… I think too much. I came out of my own head and started paying attention to what my husband had been saying.

“… always did get the hottest girls, man. It seems like you had a new one on your arm at every party.”

Both of them were laughing at the memories of their exploits in college. Apparently, Chris was (is) quite the ladies man. Brandon’s not so bad himself though. I have a wonderful husband who cherishes me and fucks me like a porn star. Our sex life has off the charts good since we started sharing fantasies. It’s kind of hot how it all started.

We were fucking in bed one morning, as we do, and I started sucking his dick. I liked being on my knees — ass waving, slowly, invitingly in the air while I swallowed my husband’s thick cock. Like many times before, I felt his hand slowly slide up my thigh. I saw his body shift slightly, making it so that we were perpendicular to each other. Sort of like a + sign, but not quite. While I continue to feel his cock throbbing in my mouth, moving my head ever-so-slightly, swallowing it deeper, and deeper, he begins to gently play with my pussy. Brandon is so good at this. His fingers graze my labia, rub gentle circles around my clit without actually touching it yet… He likes to work his way up to the point of sliding two or three fingers inside my sopping wet, hungry pussy while I drool all over his dick.

Usually, nothing is said. It’s a hot foreplay position. Nobody mentioned why it was so hot, but in hindsight I think we both knew. This time, for the first time, Brandon acknowledges what was tactfully left unsaid before. He began thrusting his fingers inside me, pushing my body forward, driving me into his dick, while at the same time thrusting his hips forward, driving his cock into the back of my throat, alternating back and forth between thrusts in my pussy and mouth. That’s when my husband said in his deep, seductive voice:

“Audrey, I have something to tell you. When we do this position I usually imagine that someone else is fucking you while you swallow my cum”.

Red. Hot. Flashes. My entire body convulsed. I quaked and moaned while having the most intense orgasm I’ve had in years. His cock was rock hard in my mouth. His fingers didn’t get pushed out, but resisted the force of my orgasm. He was finger-fucking me slowly now. I lifted my head up, spit drooling down onto the head of his cock, my fluids all over his hand, all over the bed. Neither of us said a word. We locked eyes and we both knew that he knew how much the thought of someone else fucking me from behind turned me on. The cat was out of the bag, so-to-speak. I went back down on him and moments later his cock pumped what felt like the biggest fucking load into the back of my throat. It just kept coming. With each thrust, filling me up to bursting. And his noises. Oh-my-fucking-god his noises!

“You really seemed to enjoy that,” he observed, as we lay next to each other in bed afterward.

“Well, so did you!” I replied, laughing and rolling over to look at his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt you cum like that. Mmmm, so good…”

“It was your reaction that made me cum. You got so wet and excited. And you came almost instantly!”

I was a little embarrassed that he noticed, and a little mad at myself for not being able to control myself when he said that. I didn’t want my husband to think I was a whore, but it was just fantasy, after all.

Since then, we had fantasized in bed a few times about threesomes with another man, or about someone else pleasing me. We’ve shared the fantasy maybe five or six times over the last year. Unbeknownst to Brandon, I’ve thought about it almost every time we’ve had sex. I didn’t want him to think I would cheat on him, or that I wanted to. I don’t want to humiliate him or make him feel sad or angry (well, maybe a little jealous). But the thought of him watching me have sex with someone else, especially with another man, or multiple men… It soaks right through my panties. Those butterflies in my stomach. I could never tell him though. It’s one thing to fantasize about your husband sharing you in an intimate threesome. Quite another to imagine him watching you get dominated and used. Some things should remain your own private fantasies. We all deserve to have a few of those.

He also knows I have a thing for consensual non-consent, but really I’d say it’s CNC “light”. I just like the feeling of being dominated, taken, used… It’s weird, because I’d consider myself a feminist. I’m a strong woman. I’m smart and successful. I don’t allow men to continually cross my boundaries in a relationship. But, when it comes to the bedroom, I like it when I “feel like” I don’t have control, and I like it to feel oh so wrong but oh so right. Brandon knows this about me. And I know he gets extra hard when we fantasize about other men.

But that’s all it is. Fantasy. What we want in fantasy and what we want in reality shouldn’t always be the same. I didn’t want to be with another man in real life. I wanted to be faithful to my husband, and for us to love and care for each other. We still love and care for each other, but last Saturday changed everything.

We’d all had a few drinks and shared a joint with Brandon’s longtime friend Chris, who was in town for the week from Colorado. Sean Hayes was on Spotify and we found ourselves in the kitchen, making up some munchies and getting water for the cottonmouth. We have an open kitchen plan with a big island in the middle, creating a sort of corridor for the cook to move about and do their thing. There’s plenty of room, but as Chris brushed past me to grab him the veggies I could have sworn I felt his erect penis move across my ass. I’m a sucker for mini sun dresses. I love the way the silky material feels against my skin. It’s like a mini-skirt, but looks less slutty. My body feels so feminine when I wear them. I especially think my legs looks good. My breasts are also just the right size to wear a sundress without a bra.

I saw Chris checking me out earlier whenever he thought Brandon wasn’t looking. I’d catch his eye and I’d want to look away, but would hold it just a fraction of a second longer than I should have. I have to admit, it did turn me on to know Chris was checking me out. He’s about 6’2″ with strong arms and a nice set of abs that I get to see once in a while during the summer. I knew Chris could get almost any girl he wanted, and most of the women he dates were little more than that — girls. Knowing he thought I was attractive made me feel sexy. I get complimented by my husband all the time, but at 45, after having raised two kids, I don’t get noticed when we go out as often as I used to. Hell, we don’t go out that often anymore to begin with! And, if we’re honest here, I maybe did choose the slinky mini-dress with no bra because I wanted to look sexy for Brandon’s friend, although I’m not sure I could admit it to myself at the time. I just want to look good for my husband. That’s what I told myself.

At one point I was telling the story about when Brandon and I went to Rome, and how my skirt blew up on the little stone bridge right when the nice man was taking our picture. We were all laughing and feeling the good night with good friends vibes, me and Chris on the couch, Brandon in his chair. I raised my leg up and leaned back against the arm-rest, not realizing that my dress had inched up and my white panties were visible to Chris. At first, I just noticed the skirt was up and I could feel the draft on my pussy, probably made cooler by my moistness. I had a drink in one hand and a joint in the other, so I couldn’t pull my skirt back in that moment. I felt the coolness, we were all laughing, and I looked up to see Chris looking directly between my legs. Brandon would be pissed if he knew!

Without thinking to close my legs, I looked at him for a second to see if he would look away, if it was just an accident or if he was seriously perving out on his good friend’s wife right now, right in front of him! He didn’t look away. Instead, his gaze drifted slowly up to my stomach. I became intensely aware of my breasts bouncing as I chuckled about the thought of my skirt blowing up in the wind one Summer day in Rome. His gazed brushed over my breasts and before I could turn my head he looked right at me. Our eyes locked and, despite wanting to, I found that I couldn’t look away. It was too late. I saw a flirtatious smirk spread across his face and realized that he knew I knew he was looking, and, what’s more, I didn’t close my legs. With that realization, I immediately closed my legs, but not before a hot bolt of something rushed through my entire body. I sat up, pulled my dress back down to just above my knees, and asked Brandon if he wanted anything to drink.

That was earlier. I shrugged it off as a momentary blip caused by too much alcohol and not enough food. The trip to the kitchen allowed me to gather myself together as I set about getting some food ready. And water. We should definitely all drink some water. The guys came in and started helping, but I shooed them back over to the dining table part of the room where they stayed until Chris got bored and said he wanted to help.

“I feel like I should help. I’m the guest. You two have been so gracious inviting me into your home, sharing your wine and food. The least I can do is help cook”. How could I argue with that?

“Ok, come and help then! I hope you know your way around a cutting board.”

I decided to take him up on the offer because it would be nice to actually have help in the kitchen for once. As he joined the kitchen crew of two, Chris brushed behind me and, now I’m sure of it, I felt his stiff cock press against my ass. My heart fluttered, but I decided to just ignore it. He’d be embarrassed if I said anything, and I was quite certain it wasn’t intentional. Chris stood beside me with the cutting board, chopping veggies while I made sauce on the stove.

“Brandon, you say I always had the hottest girlfriends, but you seem to have done pretty well for yourself here. Audrey is stunning”.

I couldn’t believe he said that.

“You’re not wrong, Chris. I’m not sure how I managed to pull it off, but let’s just say I thank my lucky stars for her every day”.

Aww… now I was blushing. I felt so good standing there in the kitchen with two handsome men flattering me. Light as a feather. Beautiful and relaxed. Admired and appreciated. Is that Chris’s hand on my hip? He had his hand on my hip. It’s OK. It’s just a friendly hand. I subtly moved over toward the stove, away from his hand.

“You two are making a girl blush,” I said shyly, as I bent over to put the meal in the oven. “I’m glad you guys think so highly of me, but it’s been awhile since I’ve been to the gym and…”

Chris’s hand cupped my right ass cheek and squeezed. What-the-actual-fuck! I reached back and swatted it away, thinking that it was getting a bit late and maybe we should start to wrap this evening up. I shoved the pan in the oven, stood up straight as a door, and flashed Chris a cold look that said “what the fuck are you doing”!

He put his hands up in the air in a mock “my bad, please forgive me” gesture, and I thought about telling Brandon right then and there. But Chris just looked so damn… cute? Hot is more the word. I could see why he got away with so much. And I didn’t want to start anything. The night had been going so well.

Things cooled down after that and we managed to get dinner served without any further incidents. I figured Chris gotten the point with the look I flashed him. No need to ruin everyone’s night. I’d tell Brandon tomorrow when he’s sober and clear headed. As it was, we were all having a pleasant discussion over dinner. Chris sat opposite of me, Brandon to my right. “Thanks for cooking honey,” Brandon said as he enjoyed his plate.

“Yea, this is delicious, thanks,” agreed Chris.

“Well, you’re welcome boys. And thank you for the salad, Chris,” I nodded, hoping to show that all was water under the bridge (for now). Dinner went splendidly. The food and the water helped sober us all up a little, and there was no more peeking or fondling. I felt comfortable enough to maybe even flirt a little with Chris. It just felt like we had a little secret now. I caught him doing something that Brandon wouldn’t like, but that I hadn’t told him (yet). I hadn’t told my husband yet because I didn’t want to start a fight. I fully intended on telling him that his friend cupped my ass in his hand. But for now, I thought, I’ll just keep it to myself. It was kind of hot, the more I thought about it, and I felt guilty and turned on at the same time.

It came time to do the dishes, and once again Brandon sat at the table while I scrubbed away. “Just leave it, honey,” he said. “We can get those in the morning. I’ll even do them all”. That was sweet of him to offer, but I can’t stand dishes sitting around all night. So when Chris once again offered to help, I thought “why not”. We joked around for awhile, me washing, Chris drying, Brandon rolling another joint. And then, while I had a wet dish in my hand, which I almost dropped, Chris put his hand back on my ass! And this time he squeezed, not painfully, but in a forceful way that got me immediately moist. I wanted to scream out. I wanted to moan. I wanted to slap him. I wanted him to keep doing it. And this, he knew. Because I stifled my objection, Chris knew he had me right where he wanted me.

With his hand still kneading my ass cheek over my dress, he said to Brandon, “hey, you told me Audrey had a nice ass, but I didn’t know it was this nice”.

Brandon looked over at us. The kitchen island was blocking his view so he could only see us from the waste up. Chris still had his hand on my ass, rubbing slow circles now. I should say something! Why wasn’t I saying anything?

“You think it looks nice, but it feels even better,” Brandon replied.

If only he knew. Did he know?

“Oh, I know, I’ve had my hand on it for a couple of minutes now,” Chris said, plainly.

I felt trapped. I didn’t want this to happen. I didn’t try to get this to happen. Chris was taking advantage of me and now my husband was going to think I’m a cheating little slut, which is exactly what I felt like. Everything started getting blurry for a moment and I felt like the heat had been cranked up. And, just like that, I regained some of my senses and found myself looking eye-to-eye with my husband while his friend slid his hand up the back of my thigh, under my skirt.

“Is that right, honey? Did you let him touch your ass,” Brandon asked. He didn’t seem jealous at all. What was happening?

Chris hooked a finger around the crotch of my panties and tugged them down to my knees. Bent slightly over the counter, he whispered in my ear, “Tell him the truth, Audrey.”

“Y… yes,” I murmured under my breath.

“Yes what,” Chris prodded, as his hand returned to my ass, below the counter where Brandon could not see it.

“Yes, I let him touch my ass,” I admitted, quickly and quietly.

“What’s that? I couldn’t hear you, honey, I’m way over here. Say it louder, please”.

I wanted to obey my husband. I wanted to be faithful and honest. I had to at least be honest now. Loud enough for him to clearly hear me I repeated, “Yes, I let Chris touch my ass”.

I couldn’t believe what was happening. I felt humiliated and afraid, but also turned on beyond belief. Chris moved directly behind me and I could sense him unbuttoning his pants, but I couldn’t see him. Was I just imagining it? Still looking at my husband for a response to this slutty confession of mine, still waiting for him to put a stop to it. Chris put his hand on my inner thigh and slid it up, purposefully, until his fingers were sliding between my labia.

“She’s wet as fuck, man,” Chris said, almost proudly, to Brandon. Wasn’t he going to do anything about it? Wasn’t Brandon going to stop what was happening? Did she even want him to?

“I bet she is,” Brandon replied. Was he touching his crotch?

Her husband couldn’t see, but he knew at this very moment Chris was feeling her wetness behind the counter. The thought of this, of him being unable to see what was happening, immediately brought me to an orgasm and I pushed back onto Chris’ fingers. Just then, Chris whispered in my ear, “get on your knees, and suck my cock,”.

I wanted to put a stop to it at that point. This was going too far. Things had already gone way too far, but this felt like careening over a cliff. I looked at Brandon, wondering if he’d heard the whisper, but my sweet husband was sitting there with his eyes closed, gently stroking the bulge under his pants. So I did what I was told. It’s almost like I had no choice. I obeyed Chris, and dropped to my knees.

Chris had a big cock. It wasn’t porn-star huge, but it was at least 7 inches, and way thicker than my hubby’s. I was on my knees when I pulled it out, and it draped across my face on the way down. I couldn’t believe what was happening as I took the head of a thick new cock into my mouth. It felt so good. The mushroom tip sliding in and out, slowly. The throbbing veins against my tongue. He started going deeper, grabbing the back of my hair and pushing my head down until every inch of him was down my throat. I touched myself while thinking about my husband sitting at the table, me hidden from view, sucking his friend’s cock right there in the same room. It made me cum twice in a row. He fucked my throat this way for what seemed like an eternity. He pulled out just when I thought I was going to pass out or vomit, allowing all of the fluids to just drip down my chin onto my tits, running down the top of my dress and into my cleavage. Chris took a handful of my hair and tilted my head back so I was looking up at him. “Stand up,” he demanded.

I stood up slowly, not wanting to face what was on the other side of the room. The knowing. The shared knowing. I felt so dirty. My hands were on the counter, facing Brandon. The presence of an erect cock resting gently against my pussy made me cum again, shivering against my will. Chris asked if I wanted him to stop. I wanted to say yes, but I couldn’t, so I said nothing. He slid the tip of his thick dick into my soaking wet pussy.

“I asked if you wanted me to stop, Audrey,” Chris repeated in a more loud, forceful voice. I knew I was expected to answer loud enough for Brandon to hear.

“No,” I said, looking sideways to avoid my husband’s eyes. Chris pulled the tip of his dick out and slapped me hard on the ass three or four times. I was shocked! He was smacking my ass right in front of my husband, and making me say things…

“No what?” he demanded.

“No, Chris, I don’t want you to stop,” I said finally, turning my head as I said it to look into the eyes of my husband who was clearly stroking the erect dick under his pants.

“What do you want me to do then,” Chris asked. I didn’t know what he wanted me to say so I paused, but he smacked my ass again several times, slid the tip of his dick into me again and leaned down to whisper in my ear, “Tell your husband what you want me to do to you”.

I wanted him to fuck me. I wanted him to slide his cock all the way in as deep as he could. I started to involuntarily push back, trying to slide over his shaft, but he would either move back or push me forward. He asked again, tightening his grip on my hair. “Tell us what you want me to do!” I couldn’t stand it anymore.

… Continued

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