Hotwife | Shared Wife | Cuckold Erotica
Stand in line and fuck my wife, please?
I screwed up my courage, and told my buds that my fantasy was to watch them all make out with, and then fuck my wife.
Hmmmm, how do I start? Well, 12 years of marriage can be tedious at times, especially when your wife loses interest in sex. That’s not really a fair statement. Let me start over again.
I noticed that after the honeymoon was over, which was about three years after we married, my wife was only up for sex about once a month, max. Some of my friends told me to stop bitchin, because that was way more than they were getting! But to me, after moping about it for a year or so, I became intrigued by when and why my wife would become aroused, since it was so infrequent. But on those special nights that she was suddenly “willing,” my god, all hell would break loose. She would be so erotic that I could close my eyes for a week afterward and masturbate to the erotic memories.
I tried planning for that night by recording the date on the calendar. At first, I tried to tie it to her menstrual cycle. But that sure didn’t work out! I tried several other brainstorms of mine, but none of them worked out either.
Then I read about the ancient theories of what are now called biorhythms. I learned that there are various cycles we human’s have that occur at certain repeating frequencies. A woman’s menstrual cycle is one such cycle. I read that the Japanese had charted all of their pilots “mental acuity” biorhythms and would not let the pilots fly during their “low mental state” periods.
After a few months of observation, I saw that my wife did indeed have a cycle to her horniness. I tracked it for several months of calendaring. Then I extrapolated into the future so I could see if I could predict her being “in season.”. I got fairly confident in my predictions after five months or so. My real success came when I started tracking her sexual peaks by hours, not by days.
Buoyed by her improving success, I then projected her cycle for the rest of the year.
During the latter part of this time frame, we both read the book “The Truth about Sex” by Paul Fox. It is a Bible study that shows that almost all of the current preconceived Christian notions about sex are not based on scripture but instead were developed to gain control of the masses by “The Church”. I read it first, and then she read it, finishing the book the weekend before Halloween. She confided to me that reading that book allowed my wife to feel much less inhibited.
According to my calculations, her “erotic cycle” was due to peak on Halloween, at about 7:30 in the evening, if I had my timing down perfectly.
Fox’s liberating book clarified how sex outside the marriage was “not a sin” if (and only if) a person had their spouse’s permission to have sex with someone outside the marriage.
My mind began to scheme and plot. I have always wanted my wife to experience mind-blowing extra-marital sex. Not with her “cheating,” but with my full knowledge and participation. Like a swinging-couple lifestyle. Several sexologists have written that over 80% of men have fantasies about sharing their spouse. There has never been any doubt in my mind that my wife loves me deeply. But it was a long held fantasy to watch my wife explode in gloriously liberated orgasm as she enjoyed another male lover. I hoped that I could enjoy her ecstasy as a spectator.
Some call that fantasy perverted. I had learned in Fox’s book that there was no shame in that fantasy. In fact, the sharing of one’s spouse was a time-honored practice prior to the rise of the Catholic Church.
Now I just had to come up with a way to make my fantasy come true.
As I stared at my calendar, on which I tracked my wife’s erotic cycles, it suddenly occurred to me how I could have a great chance of participating in my wife’s liberation from her past, deeply ingrained inhibitions.
A little history first. My wife and I started dating each other in high school. She was a cheerleader, and I was the point-guard on the varsity basketball team. So we would see a lot of each other on out of town athletic trips. I am not saying our team was a fantastic basketball team, but we did get very close to winning the state championship. Our team was, in all respects, exactly that: a close nit team. We were unselfish in our passing and came within a gnat’s eye of the state championship.
Back to the subject at hand.
Since it was Halloween, and since we were all, shall we say, “sex objects” in high school, I figured we could have a party where we wore our old uniforms to the Halloween party. I called the rest of my high school team and talked them into joining us at the party, also wearing their uniforms. I even told the two easiest lays on the cheerleader squad to come, er, excuse me, join us. I say that tongue in cheek because everyone knows that all the guys would fall over backward if ANY female seemed so inclined. Men are the true sluts of life, and women almost always have to be properly seduced. So the term “easy lay” is a relative term. If we thickheaded men could just learn that earlier in life!
But my crowning glory of an idea was this: we would all be free to act out our high school fantasies, the ones we could remember having during our glorious high school days, without anyone criticizing us. And no underwear of any kind was allowed that evening! So my darling wife would be wearing her tight, thin cheerleader sweater and short skirt, as would the other cheerleaders. The guys would be wearing their basketball shorts and jerseys. Everything would be dangling loose, and available to pilfering hands.
I decided to start the seduction of my wife on Thursday evening, a day before the party (and the hoped-for horny period). I was so nervous! I was determined to put my whole heart into this and risk it all. I felt vulnerable and was not at all certain how I would react if the thing bombed. I kept telling myself to just relax and let it flow… Let it flow… Let it flow…
To be perfectly fair, let me tell you about the other guys on the basketball team. First, there was our center. We called him Meat. I think you can guess why. He was about 6 feet 6 inches, and his cock was about half his weight, thick, long, and enviable. Then there was String Bean, who played forward. The term string bean referred to his cock, not his body shape. Somewhat long and disappointingly thin, I guess, is how a woman would (and has) described his equipment.
You might be thinking we guys were all hung up on our dicks, and if you know any male teenagers well, you know that is true.
Stub was the counterpoint point guard. Then there was The Plug, the other forward.
Reminding myself how important seduction is for women, I spent Thursday night giving my darling wife a starlit Jacuzzi and then a nice long candlelit bubble bath with her favorite music. Then, in bed, I spent about 45 minutes giving her a full body massage. I made a point of continuing to discuss Paul Fox’s book most of the time I was massaging her curvaceous body. She drifted off to sleep with a relaxed, happy smile on her face.
On Friday, I sent her a dozen long stem roses, delivered to her office. I personally made certain they were fragrant, fresh, and wrapped in baby’s breath and ribbon. She was so delighted that she had to call me and thank me, hinting that she was starting to feel a bit frisky (my words, not hers). I smiled as I pictured how the night might turn out.
That evening, the guys got there early, and the women, of course, had to act reluctantly and arrive late. The flirting was instantly hot and heavy. I had wine, beer, and sodas stocked on ice all over the house. I had the lighting down low and appropriate music playing. The top forty hits when we were in high school always made us think about the possibilities that we all missed because we had little clue about how to capitalize on the possibilities.
At first, the guys were in one room and the girls in another, gossiping and bragging (well, at least the guys were bragging). I heard many raunchy stories about the casabas of secretaries and out-of-town conquests during business trips. I noticed many of us were furtively glancing at each other’s crotches, wondering and trying to remember.
My wife was the only female spouse present.
Suddenly, Meat started talking about a fantasy he had during our senior year. I grinned as I realized that we were finally getting under way! I felt my cock twitch in anticipation.
Meat’s fantasy was to be the guy at the bottom of the cheerleader pyramid. He would have his hand on the girl’s sweet ass and pussy. In his fantasy, his thumb slipped into the girl’s underwear and stuck right up her wet cunt. In his fantasy, as he held her over his head, he could feel her cunt muscles pulsing on his thumb!
We all agreed that was a great fantasy, for a teenager.
String Bean told us about being in church during a Christmas program when he put his hand down his girlfriend’s blouse, feeling up her knockers and nipples. She had put her hand on his crotch. After the program, they went out to his car and made out for an hour or so. He had gotten to third base when the cops came by and made them go home. We reminded him that this was not a fantasy; it was reality.
The Plug started some sort of bullshit about fucking all the cheerleaders on an out of own ball game trip, then started laughing and gave away his farce. “Well, it was my fantasy anyway!” he laughed.
Stub allowed that he had been felt up and toyed with by his babysitter when he was ten or so. He confided to us that was his first bonor. She had let him toy with her tits and even made him suck her nipples. Again, we reminded him that this was reality, not fantasy. We all knew we had enjoyed the tale, though!
Now it was my turn. I screwed up my courage, pretended I was plugging my nose and jumping in the deep end for the first time, and told my buds that my fantasy was to watch them all make out with and then fuck my wife.
There was utter silence for at least 30 seconds, then Meat said, “NO SHIT! Are you for real? You want us to all fuck your wife!”
I knew my face was crimson, but I nodded my head in confirmation. I felt my cock get hard, raising the hem of my basketball shorts as it swelled. The Plug said “GOD DAMN man! You ARE serious! You’re getting a fucking hard time just thinking about it!”
Meat then said, in a hushed conspiratorial tone, “I used to think about us all laying my horny wife, my first one. God, she would spread her legs for any-fucking-one! Except me. I even watched her fuck several of them on our bed while I was in the fucking closet. Fuck that was hot!”
String Bean looked at Meat like he had gone loco! “Your wife was not happy with your goddamned fucking sausage sized cock???!!” he asked, clearly bowled over by that revelation.
Meat replied, speaking louder now, “Shit man, you think having a big cock gets you laid by your wife? Fuck no man, they use it as a reason to NOT fuck you.” Holding his pinky up like a queer, he used a high-pitched voice to say, “Oh, not tonight, honey; my body is too sore from last month when we made love.” He switched back to his normal baritone. “I bet we ended up fucking less than three times a fucking year!”
“NO SHIT!” was all we could say. I know I have always had visions of his wife not being able to get enough of his incredible penis. In fact, it was his cock that I most wanted to see my wife fucking!
The plug looked at me. Studying my face as he thought. “Well guys, I think we should all do the team spirit thing and make our buddy’s fantasy come true tonight! Whadyasay?” He held his fist out in the middle of us, like we used to do at the end of a time out, before going back on the basketball floor. We all put our hands on his and did the “hoooooooRAHHHHHH!” just like back in high school (our coach was a marine in a previous lifetime).
The head of my cock was sticking out from under my shorts now! Would my fantasy really come true after all these years?
I heard The Plug exclaim, “DAMN MEAT! I can’t fucking believe after all these years we’re going to get to fuck Marla!”
Meat’s enviable prick was getting hard too. I couldn’t help but notice.
Meat led the way into the rec room, where the girls were holed-up, gossiping.
My darling Marla chuckled as Meat’s meat led us into the room. She giggled as she pointed and said, “Well, girls, there’s the proof! Look how big Meat’s actually is!” All eyes turned to stare at Meat’s proudly exposed crotch.
The fact that it was my darling, loving Marla, who said it made me almost certain that her “horny period” was upon her! I was instantly as hard as steel!
The women all stared at our exposures, giggling and pointing, their eyes wide, and silly grins of carnal expectation on their faces. The men’s eyes were drinking in the willingness of the women to engage in the games.
It was Marla who asked the rest of us, “Who’s first? And how do we do this?” I almost came just hearing her say such a thing! Meat and String Bean were already dripping, and The Plug was pulsing up and down with his heartbeat.
I held out a cardboard box with the numbers 1 through 8 on separate sheets of paper inside. “We each draw a number,” I explained. “And whoever draws the number 1 gets to explain their fantasy and set it up, the rest of us are responsible for making certain that their fantasy comes true in all its Technicolor glory. No holds barred! Then, the one with the number 2 gets their turn. We have all weekend, so let’s make this work!”
Seven hands grabbed for the box. My dick was so hard that I was aching. I wondered what number was left in the box, since it was mine by default.
Part 2
I breathed a distinct sigh of relief when I heard Stub yelp in victory. “I got the 1!” He held it out for everyone to see.
I watched Marla’s eyes caress his crotch, his erection tenting his basketball shorts. Her eyes worked their way up his body until they rested on his face. “So what’s your fantasy, Stub?” she asked. Her eyes again dropped to his shorts.
“OK GUYS!” he shouted, too excited to realize how loud he was talking. “OK, here it is! I want all the girls to suck my cock for a minute each.”
The “girls” were now all mothers and adults, but we knew what he meant. They quickly huddled and whispered back and forth for a few moments, then, with shit eating grins, came out of their huddle. Rita broke the ice. “Okay guys, drop them drawers. We want some visual interest going on here, ya hear?”
Five pairs of basketball shorts hit the Rec Room floor simultaneously.
The girls all giggled, their eyes moving from swinging dick to swinging dick. I watched my wife’s face as she took in the sight of all those dicks that she had cheered for all through high school. Her eyes did not spend more than a fraction of a second on mine. I felt somehow cheated. It sounds silly, but I did.
The girls went back into their cheerleader huddle, their curvy little asses all stuck out pertly, their arms around each other sweating shoulders. I could just see the tips of Sandy’s pubic hair below her short cheerleader skirt. They seemed to make a decision about sequence, and then turned to look at us all standing in a row, like jay birds on a wire.
My wife was first I discovered when she strode the few steps to Stub and knelt before him. Without hesitation, her mouth engulfed his cock. Stub’s eyes went to the size of dinner plates as Marla’s lips captured his prick. That was all it took. Stub shot his load down my wife’s throat! I saw Marla swallow, caught by surprise. She seemed to be trying to swallow fast enough that it did not overwhelm her mouth.
“OOOOOHHHHHHHhhhh fuck!” lamented Stub. “Now what the fuck happens?” He was clearly embarrassed beyond words. His cock popped out of my wife’s mouth, a long string of cum still attached to his dick head. I was shocked to see Marla stick her tongue out and collect it. She grinned as she turned back to the other girls. They huddled again. Marla then swapped spit and cum with the other two women!
I had NO clue! Marla likes other women? I had to sit down so I wouldn’t fall down. And she had NEVER swallowed my cum before!
The girls returned. “So here’s the deal, as soon as the fantasy is completed, no further action is required by us girls. Got it?”
“Oh fuck!” complained Stub. I was supposed to get a minute in each of your mouths! SHIT! I got maybe ten seconds in one mouth!”
Meat jibbed, “Yeah, but it was Marla’s mouth, asshole. Shut up and be happy!”
Stub shrugged his shoulders and joined me on the couch.
