The Old Man

A fantasy becomes a reality during a hot drive home.

Driving home from a weekend with the in-laws, my wife Gemma and I were feeling dangerously horny. The weather was hot, but unbeknownst to us, it was going to get a whole lot hotter in ways we could’ve never imagined.

Both thirty with no children, Gemma is five-seven, a beautiful brunette with long dark hair, stunning blue eyes, and a sexy, voluptuous body. I, Tim, am five-ten, slim, with short dark hair, brown eyes, and a cheeky sense of humour.

Not long into the drive home, cruising through the beautiful mountains and rolling countryside, Gemma suddenly turned to me with a playful smile. “This heat has me feeling so horny,” she said.

“You read my mind,” I chuckled. “I’ve been thinking about taking a detour.”

Gemma slipped her hand between my legs. “Mmm, I like the sound of that,” she teased, rubbing my crotch. “But what if we get caught?” she asked, grinning.

“The risk of getting caught just adds to the thrill,” I reminded her, smirking.

“And you know how much I like taking risks,” she laughed, slowly unbuttoning her floral V-neck summer dress.

“Oh yes. It’s been a while since you got the girls out on a road trip.” My gaze flicked between the open road and my gorgeous wife exposing her ample chest.

“Keep your eyes on the road. I don’t want to end up in an accident with my boobs out,” she chortled, revealing her white lace bra and abundance of creamy cleavage. God, her big tits are awesome.

My cock throbbed as she checked the rear-view mirror before opening the dress further. She then reached behind her back and unclasped the bra. Although I’d witnessed it countless times, I never tired of watching her big, juicy knockers spill free, nipples rock-hard for attention.

“Be a good husband and hold onto this for me,” she taunted, dangling her bra above my lap. I was about to take it when suddenly three motorbikes roared past us on the opposite side of the road. Gemma shrieked and dropped the bra.

“Where the hell did they come from?” I laughed, tossing the bra into the back while she pulled the dress over her tits.

“Christ, that was close!” she stressed.

“Relax, they were going way too fast to notice,” I said, hoping they had noticed. “Now, open your dress and keep it open. No matter what or who passes us, you keep the girls on display,” I challenged my wife, my voice dripping with excitement.

As Gemma exposed her tits again—nipples hard as bullets, large dark areolas—a red tractor joined the road and turned right towards us from a junction.

“Quick, Tim, speed up!” she laughed, wriggling in the passenger seat. But the situation only added to the excitement.

“I’m not breaking the speed limit,” I roared with laughter, watching her big tits jiggle beautifully. “Just look away.”

As the tractor drew level, Gemma tensed and closed her eyes. I found her discomfort amusing. The farmer looked right at us, shocked, then a seedy grin stretched across his face and he honked the horn. I burst out laughing at my wife.

“He’s passed. You can open your eyes now. That’s two men you’ve excited.”

Gemma exhaled, flustered but also aroused—I could see it in her eyes. She had definitely enjoyed it, despite her nerves.

“I need to fuck you!” I told her. “Like… I really need to pull over and fuck you. Zoom in on that road there,” I said, pointing at a road coming off the next T-junction. “Where does it lead?”

Gemma zoomed in on the sat-nav. The road appeared to lead nowhere. Perfect. There was bound to be a discreet spot where we could frolic in the sun.

“We’ll turn off there and take a look! It’s only a few minutes away,” I said excitedly.

Suddenly, a white transit van came over the horizon. Gemma squirmed, but with my persuasion, she put her shades on and kept her hands by her sides.

“We’re doing sixty. We’ll pass in a flash. The driver probably won’t even notice you,” I bluffed, hoping the driver would in fact get a good look at my wife.

“Easy for you to say… shit! There are three of them in there!” she freaked out.

I didn’t mean to slow down, but as I focused on seeing if there was more than one person in the van, I slowed—and so did the van. Gemma looked anxiously out of the passenger window, unable to look at the approaching van.

“You’re right!” I chuckled. “There are three of them.” My cock strained harder against my jeans.

The passenger closest to us started bouncing excitedly in his seat, pointing. I daren’t say anything. The three men leaned forward, grinning and laughing, then the guy in the middle mimicked bouncing a big pair of tits with his hands.

The experience lasted seconds, but it was more than enough to get my juices flowing. First a random farmer, and now three random guys in a van had seen my wife’s magnificent tits. My heart raced while Gemma looked away, giggling.

Before we knew it, we were approaching the turn-off. I slowed the car safely and took the turning, checking my mirrors. The road ran for about two miles before it ended at another T-junction. Left looked like it led to a farmhouse. Right looked uncertain, so I turned right.

“We’ll see if there’s somewhere we can pull over. I need to fuck you!” I laughed.

“If we get caught I’m blaming you!” Gemma smiled, her tits still on display.

“Maybe we can live out your fantasy?” I grinned mischievously, driving slowly.

“What fantasy?” she frowned curiously.

“You know, the one where I tie you to a tree, blindfolded and gagged.” I gave her a wry smile and a dirty chuckle.

“That fantasy stays in the bedroom!”

“Come on, Gem! It will be hot as fuck!”

“What if somebody did find me? You’re crazy! It’s a fantasy, not something I actually want to do!” My wife laughed. But I believed she could be coaxed.

“Let’s not rule it out just yet, yeah?” I laughed once more then dropped the idea, for now. Gemma shook her head, giggling, but she didn’t say no.

Up ahead, we found a neglected lay-by next to an abandoned barn made from corrugated steel. I parked the car as Gemma buttoned up her dress, then we got out to have a look, leaving her bra on the backseat. We walked towards the barn, which was partly hidden behind overgrown bushes, bubbling with excitement.

“It’s kind of spooky,” Gemma said, gripping my hand tight.

“Don’t be daft. There’s plenty of daylight in there,” I told her.

What I presumed had once been the front of the structure was now completely gone. It stood abandoned with a dodgy roof, two sides, and a back. We entered the barn and looked around. Apart from a few old bales of hay, the place was empty. I then noticed a snapped piece of rope hanging down from one of the roof girders, and the remnants of a swing.

“There’s your bind,” I chuckled, pointing at the blue nylon rope on the floor.

“Those hay bales seem like a better idea,” Gemma replied mischievously.

“Come on, let’s have some real fun and live out your fantasy. I could easily and safely tie you to one of these vertical girders over there,” I said, pointing to the back right corner, before giving her a loving kiss in an attempt to win her over.

“You’re insane, you know that?” she smiled shyly, too embarrassed to admit she wanted to do it as much as I did.

“Wait here. I’ll be as quick as I can. All we need is the picnic blanket and your sleep mask,” I said, adrenaline coursing through my veins while my cock ached.

“Don’t be long,” Gemma smirked, walking towards a bale of hay.

As fast as I could, I ran back to the car for the picnic blanket and sleep mask, deciding I’d gag her safely with her panties, then returned to the barn. Gemma was sitting on a bale of hay, twirling strands of her long dark brown hair with a finger. She laughed when she saw me.

“Come here, you sexy thing!” I smiled, putting the blanket down. I needed to show my wife how much I loved and desired her before doing this fantasy.

Gemma wrapped her arms around my neck, and I held her hips. We kissed passionately as I gently caressed her tits through the dress. I then raised the hem and slipped a hand inside her panties. The kiss became as wet as her pussy as I slowly fingered her in the middle of an old barn in the middle of nowhere.

“Are you ready to be helpless? Left to be found and fucked by a stranger?” I teased her softly. My cock was raging.

“A stranger?” Gemma sounded slightly concerned.

“Me, silly. I’m the stranger.”

“Oh, in that case, yes…” she giggled.

“I’ll leave you alone for five to ten minutes. I’ll be around the barn. I promise I won’t go any further. Then I’ll come in and pretend to find you.”

“What if a real stranger does find me? I’ll have to keep my dress on, fully buttoned up, just in case,” she reasoned excitedly.

“That’s fine. It’ll add spice when I remove it. If somebody does discover you I’ll rush in. As embarrassing as it would be, at least you’ll be safe, then we’ll get the hell out of here,” I reassured her, believing we were going to be fine and have fun.

“I’ve never felt so nervous and excited in my life before,” Gemma murmured.

“You’ll love it. I promise. Okay, let’s do this.”

Softly slipping the sleep mask over my wife’s head, covering her eyes, I then laid the picnic blanket down and gently lowered her onto it. Next, I had her put her arms above her head and wrapped the rope around the girder and then her wrists.

“Oh my God!” Gemma trembled. “I can’t believe we’re actually doing this.”

“But is it exciting?” I asked, my voice hoarse as I bound her to the girder.

“Yes,” Gemma breathed, feeling all power and control taken away from her.

“Good. Now trust me and enjoy it.”

Standing back to admire my handiwork, I drank in every erotic detail. I gazed the length of the girder, the blue nylon rope binding my wife’s wrists together, her outstretched arms, and blindfolded face.

Gemma fidgeted against the rope, her breathing anxious, but she was only making herself comfortable. The size of her soft mounds peaking under the dress, the buttons I would soon undo, heightened my arousal and anticipation.

My wife looked hotter than I’d seen her in a while, and that was saying something. I don’t think my cock had ever been so hard either. It felt like an erotic dream since we’d left my in-laws’ house.

“You look so sexy,” I sighed softly, dropping to my knees.

“What are you doing?” she wondered, as I removed her sandals and ran my hands up her smooth legs, pushing the dress up to her waist, exposing her thighs and white lace panty-covered mound.

“I need a gag,” I whispered, tucking my fingers inside the waistband and slowly pulling her panties down her legs.

“You could have at least gotten a clean pair for me from the car,” she laughed.

“But they are clean. You only put them on this morning,” I teased. We both knew how damp the crotch was already.

My sexy wife’s shaven pussy was raring to go, ready and in need of some serious action. Her clit was no doubt throbbing. Her outer lips were swollen and slightly parted, and her hole was glistening with sweet pussy juice, ready to get fucked.

Running a hand up the inside of her left thigh, I traced my fingertips softly along her sensitive skin. Gemma gasped as I began to massage my fingers against her pussy, watching her moan and her head lull from side to side, completely submitting.

“Just fuck me now, Tim!” she begged.

I smiled, moving my fingers on her clit in small circular motions. Gemma gasped and raised her backside an inch off the ground. I slid my finger down her pussy, spreading her warm, squelching folds. She was on fire.

“Oh fuck! That’s it!” My wife whimpered as I pushed a finger inside, taking her to the brink of her first orgasm in days, before I pulled out, leaving her panting.

“Time to gag you and then I’ll leave you for five to ten minutes. Let you really get into the fantasy before I return,” I said quietly, carefully stuffing her panties into her mouth. “Is that far enough?”

Gemma nodded, her mouth now full of damp, musky lace, breathing through her nostrils. It was hard not to drop my pants and fuck her right there and then. She looked incredibly hot, incredibly sexy, and of course, so incredibly vulnerable.

Although the risk was minimal, it still very much existed. I put my mouth close to my wife’s ear and whispered that I was leaving her now. I told her she’d be safe, kissed her forehead softly, then pulled her dress down, making it presentable before leaving her alone and defenceless.

Outside the barn, I scanned the area for life. Nothing. Relieved, excited, and yes, a little nervous, I knew the scene was set and went for a slow walk around the barn, biding my time until I decided my wife had waited long enough. I checked on her too, through the many gaps and rusted holes in the corrugated steel.

Gemma wriggled for a little bit, not trying to free herself, but to contain herself. I watched her eventually settle and become almost lifeless, breathing steadily through her nose as she lay on the picnic blanket, blindfolded, with only her dress covering her modesty, and of course, with her wrists above her head.

Before returning inside to get things underway and finally ravage my wife to live out her kinky fantasy, I went into the bushes to take a piss. Then everything was terrifyingly turned upside down.

I heard voices. Lots of voices. Male and female, coming down the track. Quickly putting my cock away, I crept around the bushes to find lots of heads bobbing up and down. Ramblers. Fucking ramblers. A group of people whose hobby it is to go on walks with like-minded people.

“Shit!!!”

The group stopped near the barn and dropped their rucksacks to take a water break. A few of them looked at the barn, discussing what they thought it was once used for. One of them only needed to approach the huge opening at the front, and they’d discover my wife tied up like a psychopath’s wet dream.

I quietly and discreetly made my way to the back of the barn. I peered through a large gap to see Gemma lying dead still, but panicking, breathing through her nose. I knew she could hear the group, and I felt an icy chill run down my spine.

It was truly terrifying, and there was nothing sexy about this group potentially discovering my wife. They’d no doubt rush to her aid and call the police. I dreaded having to show myself and confess that we were just being silly.

Gemma would of course back me up, but the shame and embarrassment would last a lifetime. I decided to wait it out and hope the ramblers would pass without incident.

“Pssst! Gemma!” I hissed through the gap in the barn. Her head turned sharply towards the sound of my voice. “Just stay still and don’t make a sound. It’s a group of ramblers. They’ll be on their way again soon, then I’ll come and untie you and we’ll get the fuck out of here. Okay?”

My wife nodded then remained still. I couldn’t even imagine what was going through her head. It was awful and scary as the ramblers hung around for about fifteen minutes before finally putting their water bottles away and pulling on their rucksacks. But then it got really bad.

An old-looking man, mid-sixties I reckoned, strolled into the barn, looking up at the decaying roof. He had his hands in his pockets, whistling. I moved away along the corrugated panel, closer to my wife, praying he wouldn’t see her.

Tall, stocky, and bald on top with grey hair around the sides and back, the old man turned my worst fear into reality. He turned around and immediately stopped whistling, his eyes fixed in silent shock at my bound, blindfolded, and gagged wife.

“Turn around and just leave,” I begged him in a whisper, my body shaking uncontrollably.

The old man glanced outside at his group, then back at my wife with an air of curiosity that suggested he might have found something valuable that he didn’t want to share. His eyes skirted up and down the length of her curvy body.

The idea that Gemma might actually be there against her will didn’t seem to cross his mind. It was as if he was trying to decide what to do. Ditto. I was also trying to decide what to do. The situation both worried and aroused me tenfold.

The old man took another glance at his group, then stepped towards the right side of Gemma, staring down at her with piercing eyes. He adjusted the front of his walking trousers as he got down on his knees, close to her head for a closer look it seemed.

I watched paralysed as a stranger gently stroked my wife’s arms, up to the rope and around her wrists. Calm and controlled, he rubbed his thumb over her diamond wedding ring, grinning while she gasped and pulled on the rope.

Yet, despite her elevated breathing, she didn’t kick out, wriggle, or even try to scream like you see in the horror movies. I gulped, heart pounding, wondering if she knew it wasn’t me.

“Okay, everyone!” a woman in the group of ramblers called out. “Let’s get moving!”

Hesitating for a moment, the old man appeared to be in two minds before he stood and finally left the barn to join his group. I knew I had to come out and try to pass it off as some kind of crazy joke. No way was he going to pretend he didn’t see my wife. I had to save her.

But I didn’t. A small part of me naively hoped he would leave without doing anything as he spoke quietly to the woman gathering everyone up. There were no signs of concern or distress. No urgency to run into the barn and free my wife, or to call the police. Nothing.

It quickly became apparent why not when the group left without the old man, and the area descended into complete silence. Oh no, I thought, as he scanned the track, checking all was clear before heading back towards the barn.

“Fuck!” I cursed under my breath.

I went to warn Gemma of his return, but instead of entering the barn, the old man dropped his rucksack and decided to walk around the structure. Going out of my mind, I dashed into the bushes.

Only wearing a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, the thorns and brambles attacked my arms and face, scratching and cutting into my flesh. I had to grit my teeth to stop myself from cursing in agony.

The old man suddenly appeared at the rear of the barn, suspiciously scanning the area, even looking in my direction before he disappeared down the side nearest to me. He did two laps before eventually going back inside.

Cursing quietly at my cuts and scratches, I crept back to the barn to find him standing over my wife. One foot either side of her. What the hell is he going to do? I wondered.

The old man slowly got down on his knees with my wife lying beneath him. He wasn’t applying any pressure to her body but Gemma was gasping through her nose. Still she didn’t protest. He then reached for the top button on her pretty floral dress and I froze. The old man breathed steadily, taking his time with each button that was aligned down the front of her body, prolonging the anticipation. Gemma inhaled sharply and seemed to hold her breath.

The old man’s face remained concentrated and serious, showing little emotion, then Gemma exhaled and her body began to tremble with a familiar nervous excitement. I’d seen it before when we had risky outdoor sex. I’d have robbed a bank if I could, to pay for her thoughts in that moment.

When the old man eventually released the sixth and final button, just below her navel, he kept the dress together as if it were still buttoned up.

My cock was straining so badly I unashamedly took it out and slowly stroked it. I then watched as the old man held the two sides of my wife’s dress between his thumbs and fingers.

“Do it,” I gasped quietly, losing my shit. Gemma was still yet to protest. I wondered how far she was prepared to let him go before kicking out and begging for my help.

Staring at the front of my wife’s dress for a moment, the old man finally whipped it apart. He nodded and grinned, absorbing the wonderful view of my wife’s big tits.

Words don’t do the memory of it any justice, but it was insanely intense and addictive. Like coming up from a powerful drug, I wanted more and more. I wanted to see my wife continue consenting, but above all, I wanted to see how far this stranger was planning to take us all.

In complete silence, he slid his hands up the sides of my wife’s body to her underboob. She snorted and tensed up. Gemma had so much breast tissue he took his time gently cupping and pushing her big tits up her body.

The old man then opened up the palms of his hands in preparation. I swallowed hard as he moved from my wife’s underboob to the outer curves of her round flesh. He then began caressing there for a few moments, before moving on to feel, fondle and caress her full tits. Gemma responded as if it were me touching her.

Satisfied he had my wife writhing beneath him, the old man remained high on his knees and gently stroked her right nipple. Gemma muffled a gasp, and then another, as he moved to gently stroke the left one.

My wife could no longer contain her excitement when he started circling her large, dark, protruding areolas with the tip of his finger. She finally became audible, groaning muffled sounds from her panty-stuffed mouth.

This gentle play lasted only a minute or two before the old man shuffled backwards down my wife’s younger body. He bent his older one forwards and my throat tightened. I watched him open his mouth and bring his tongue out. He then began drawing light circles around Gemma’s nipples, taking his time with each one whilst grinning at her responsive groans.

Gemma’s nipples were so hard they appeared to spring back into place when the old man increased the pleasure and gently flicked them with his tongue. My wife arched her back and her muffled groans became a little bit louder, rising in that corner of the abandoned barn.

With my own selfish lust having rendered me powerless, I squeezed my shaft and watched another man take one of my wife’s ripe teats into his mouth. Knowing Gemma wasn’t in any rush to protest, the old man alternated between her nipples, licking and sucking on them.

Throughout the experience he was paying particular attention to my wife’s physical and audible cues. Everything he did drew the best possible response from her. I learnt a thing or two myself.

Pre-cum was dripping from the tip of my cock but I was unable to let go of myself. The visual and physical stimulation for me was overpowering, so I slowed the strokes right down instead.

While the old man had his mouth focused on my wife’s nipples, he used his hands to gently grope her tits at the same time, and despite all of Gemma’s writhing and muffled moans of pleasure, he didn’t get carried away.

The old fella was good. I had to give him his dues. He knew exactly what he was doing, holding and squeezing Gemma’s tits in a way that kept her electrified, and him able to suck, lick and tease her nipples effortlessly.

Losing track of time I figured he’d been playing and stimulating my wife for a good ten minutes. I wondered again what the hell she must be thinking. After all, she knew it wasn’t me on top of her pleasuring her big tits.

The old man finally removed himself from my wife’s body and stood up. He clicked his knees then stepped back. Gemma was frantic on the floor. Wrists pulling on the rope, breathing heavily through her nose, all with her tits exposed and her excited nipples covered in saliva.

Opening my wife’s legs, the old man got back down on his knees, this time between them. My heart missed several beats and it felt like I couldn’t breathe for a moment. Gemma pretty much spread her legs for the guy and pulled her heels a couple of inches up towards her backside. He grinned at my wife’s wantonness and pushed her dress up around her waist, exposing her shaven mound. I felt nauseous again.

There was no teasing this time. The old man got right in there and ran his tongue along my wife’s inner and outer folds. It sparked an immediate response from her. She moaned into her panties and her blindfolded face looked directly upwards at the barn roof. Even her toes curled.

From my angle it was like staring into the centre of a clock from the eight and nine o’clock positions. I could see everything. Well, everything I needed to see.

Ramping up my wife’s libido, not that it needed it, the old man licked and covered the entire area of her soaking wet cunt. He moved gently but firmly, and repeatedly.

“Um! Um! Um! Um! Um!” Gemma groaned, as he worked a figure-eight motion into her lips, clit and opening.

“Um! Um! Um! Um! Um!” my wife groaned again. The rope was digging into her wrists now, I could see the red marks on her flesh.

“Ummmm! Ummmm! Ummmm!” she groaned louder and longer, using her thighs and hips to shift her pelvis closer towards the old man’s mouth.

He already had his head between her legs and his tongue buried inside her cunt, but like me, Gemma was desperate to cum. She loves to grab the back of my head and pull my face hard into her pussy when I go down on her. I knew this would be torture for her, not being able to use her hands. A pleasurably intense torture.

“Um! Um! Um!” Gemma’s body bounced on the blanket. The old man concentrated his tongue on just her clit and slid two fingers inside my wife. “Ummmm! Ummmm!” she cried into her panties.

It didn’t take long. I watched utterly dumbfounded as a stranger brought my bound, blindfolded and gagged wife to a climax.

“Ummmmmmm! Um! Um! Ummmmmm!”

My wife’s muffled groans filled the barn as the old man moved quickly. Resting on his knees he removed his t-shirt and revealed an old but stocky body. His chest was covered in thick grey hair and he had a fading tattoo of an eagle on his left shoulder.

The old man then unzipped his walking trousers and pushed them down below his knees. He shuffled deeper between my wife’s legs and I saw his cock. It was thick with grey pubes around the base of the shaft. Seven inches, maybe pushing eight. It didn’t matter. It still looked bigger than mine by a good inch or two. I gulped.

The old man didn’t need to exert much energy in lifting Gemma’s legs. She clearly assisted him by pulling her legs up to rest them on his shoulders. On his hands and knees, supporting the weight of my wife’s legs, all I could see was his thick cock angled to enter my wife, and a pair of hairy, saggy balls hanging down between his legs.

I swallowed hard a few times more with my eyes transfixed between his legs. He adjusted himself until he was upright then drove into my wife’s cunt with one solid thrust.

“Ummmmmm!” Gemma groaned, similar to before, only this time it sounded much deeper and more satisfying.

The old man then brought his arms round the outside of my wife’s legs to grab and squeeze her tits. Gemma continually groaned out of her mind as he started fucking her hard and fast. I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. This old man, this stranger, fucking my young wife with the stamina of a much younger man.

Gemma was struggling against the rope again, bucking her hips as best she could. Then, a white substance I’d never seen before, began to froth around the base of his shaft, every time he went balls deep inside my wife’s cunt. The old man literally smashed my wife for a solid five minutes.

Inevitably, Gemma experienced her second orgasm, which edged me much closer to my own. But there was no time to rest where this guy was concerned. He lowered Gemma’s right leg to the ground but kept hold of her left one. Turning her pelvis slightly to the side, her body followed.

Holding her left leg high in the air, the old man positioned his cock against my wife’s cunt for a second time. Another solid thrust and he was quickly fucking her again. Each time he drove into Gemma’s body her tits wobbled violently, and I knew his thick cock was going deeper than before.

My wife was squealing through her panties as the old man’s pubic bone repeatedly slammed up against her clit. Gemma didn’t normally climax more than once from penetrative intercourse, especially if she had climaxed during foreplay, but this was anything but normal.

The sounds of their fucking were wet and noisy, until the old man slammed into Gemma and remained buried deep inside her, right up to the hilt. He then started making slow circular movements with his hips, giving my wife deep penetration as well as maximum stimulation on her clit.

My wife was soon sobbing through her third climax. I thought I was going to cum any second. I was worried that if I didn’t I’d end up having a stroke at the young age of thirty.

Lowering my wife’s leg to the ground, she gradually came down from her high, but then the old man quickly turned her over onto her front. Gemma moaned in pain as her wrists crossed over. The old stallion grabbed her hips and yanked her arse up in the air, but her stomach and tits were still on the floor.

Kneeling behind my wife now, in between her legs, the old man positioned his cock at her swollen pussy-lips and slapped her right arse cheek. I continued stroking my cock as I watched him mount my wife for what surely would be the final ride.

Ploughing into my wife from behind with ease, the old man pulled back and drove a little harder into her. Back and forth he fucked my wife slowly but hard and deep, making sure his motions caused his balls to bang up against her clit again.

Gemma was instantly moaning and doing her best to push her body backwards to meet her stranger’s thrusts. He then gritted his teeth, grabbed her hips and started fucking her as hard as he could.

“Um! Um! Um! Um!” my wife groaned, but then suddenly her audible groans became clearer. “Ah! Ah! Ah! Yes! Ah! Harder! Ah!”

The position naturally had her head facing the ground. In the midst of getting fucked hard and fast, my wife’s panties had fallen from her mouth. She was now able to express herself freely, and express herself freely she did.

“Oh my God! I’m gonna cum again! Ah! Ah! Yes! Ah! Ah! Harder!”

My wife groaned so loudly I felt my balls tighten up. Watching and hearing my beautiful, sexy wife living out her fantasy was erotically gripping. Then the old man hissed and grunted, letting my wife know he was getting close.

Gemma screamed and rocked her body backwards until she stopped and used all of her strength to keep her arse in the air. “Ah! Ah! Ah! Fuck your big! Ah! Ah! Yes! Ah! Make me cum! Ah! Ah! Harder!”

“Grrrrrr!” The old man grunted whilst seriously pounding my wife from behind. His body met the back of my wife with such force the slapping sounds echoed around the barn.

My legs started shaking and I was trying to catch my breath as I listened and watched my wife explode into her fourth and final orgasm. Then it was the old man’s turn. He grabbed Gemma’s hips and rammed into her body. He held her firm and kept himself buried deep inside her well-fucked cunt, balls resting against her clit.

I’ll never forget the sounds of his animal-like grunts, or the contorted look on his old face. He was sweating and groaning up at the roof. Eyes closed as he emptied the contents of his balls inside my wife, filling her with his seed.

“Ahhhhhh!” he growled, satisfied, before pulling out of her cunt.

Thick gloopy cum then appeared and started running out of her, before it dripped away from her battered lips onto the blanket.

“Uhhhhmph,” Gemma sighed, collapsing front down. More cum oozed from her body.

Not a single word spoken since he found my wife, the old man pulled his walking trousers up and his t-shirt on, while she rolled over onto her back. My wife’s pussy was ruined, swollen and glistening with a stranger’s load leaking from it.

The old man grinned and cheekily picked up her white lace panties from the floor. He then stuffed them inside his trouser pocket and slung his rucksack over his shoulder. He was finally ready to leave, but before he left, he spoke some words for the first and only time.

“I’ve finished fucking your wife now! I hope you enjoyed it as much as she did!” he shouted around the barn, then left chuckling to himself.

As soon as the old man had gone I came running into the barn to check on my wife. She appeared to be in a state of shock. I asked if she was okay.

“I need you to fuck me, Tim,” she sighed. “Did you watch us?”

“Yes! You were incredible. Are you not mad at me?”

“You gave me my fantasy. How could I be mad at you?” Gemma spoke a little dreamily.

Leaving my wife in the state the old man had left her, I pulled down my jeans and spread her legs. Gemma moaned as I feasted on her tits and sunk my cock inside her soiled cunt.

Forget sloppy seconds, I thought, whilst fucking my wife and sucking on her nipples. It felt more like silky seconds. Gemma’s pussy was super smooth inside. Having been stretched by a bigger cock, my smaller one didn’t seem to arouse my wife as much as I hoped, but she moaned and told me she loved me.

The mere fact that we’d spontaneously and unintentionally fulfilled her fantasy, and I was fucking my wife with another man’s cum inside her, sent me over the edge within minutes.

I simply couldn’t hold out longer than two or three minutes. With a deep grunt I gritted my teeth and shot my load deep inside my wife’s greedy cunt. Probably not as deep as the old man, but I didn’t care or feel jealous. It felt amazing to finally empty my balls inside my wife, especially knowing I was adding my cum to a stranger’s.

On the drive home my wife slept. She was knackered, bless her. That night in bed after we showered, my wife asked me something.

“You know that thing we did in the barn today,” she blushed. “Does that make you a cuckold and me a cuckoldress?”

“I guess it does,” I chuckled.

My wife grinned. “Soooo… we can do it again sometime?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely!!!”