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This is a tale of erotic fiction. It is posted only on sites and newsgroups
in which erotic fiction appears. If you are reading this on a site OTHER
than one on which erotic fiction is posted, please stop now, or assume the
risk of being offended. The author bears no responsibility for your offense
if you continue to read on.
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My name is Samantha T. My husband wanted me to write down what happened.
We think that if I tell how it happened to me, other women might see how
thrilling a full sex life can be and it will save them from years of boredom
and frustration.

I’ll admit my experience is “out of the box”, so to speak. It isn’t your
“normal” pattern of getting married, having sex with the same person for
years, then devolving into a monotonous pattern which eventually causes a
loss of interest in sex over the years. We took some risks in order to keep
our lives full and exciting. I’m glad we did.

The event I’m going to relate happened in a moderately sized city in the
Midwest. Larry and I had been on the road for most of the day. We were
traveling for the sake of getting away from our parochial small-town
atmosphere and enjoying some time together while we explored new territory.

My most vivid memory of that weekend is this:

When I look to my right my vision is full of a thigh. It’s a nice looking
thigh, young, strong, smooth. There a tiny golden hairs accented by the
lightly tanned skin beneath them. The thigh pulses as the muscles flex and
release.

My head is swimming, slightly. I feel the probing, pumping inside me, the
nerve endings within me tingle with electricity. I am kneeling on a bed,
the sheets white beneath my arms. As the sensations beneath me crescendo
sounds burst inadvertently from within me.

“Ah, god!” I blurt out, the convulsions of my orgasm overcoming my
self-control. I cannot stop the sounds. “Ohhhh! Oh, god! Oh, yes!”

Someone told me the strongest sexual organ in the body is the mind. As I
kneel here, a hard, thick cock pounding away inside me, my mind tells me
that what is happening is thoroughly sensual, magnificently arousing, and
completely delightful. I revel in the thrill of forbidden sex performed
with complete abandon and without a hint of guilt.

The man pumping his meat to me is not my husband of twelve years. The
father of our children is underneath that thigh which is so close to me.
What I know is that he is watching this strange cock repeatedly slam into
me. His own member, I know, is buried in the warm, dark recesses of the
young woman who kneels astride him, her thigh filling my vision as she
thrusts upon my husband’s rod.

For months, my husband has been encouraging me to imagine a setting like
this. He began by pointing out his idea of attractive men. It began as
innocent role-playing as part of our conjugal experience.

We have always been sexually in tune with one another. Our sex lives have
been active. Four and five times a week we’ve managed to keep the fires
burning. As Rob explained it during one of our weekly dinner dates (no kids
allowed!), “We both like to fuck.” It’s true. We enjoy our time together.
I love his body, and, apparently, he loves mine. We’ve experimented with
books, magazines, videos, toys, and a wide variety of positions. We’ve even
done some screwing in dangerous places. Not physically dangerous, mind you.
The danger is in the possibility of discovery.

We even have established what Rob calls the “first and last” tradition.
Whenever we move or change jobs, we have a ceremonial joining in that place.
It’s probably silly, but we always celebrate these events by having one
last fuck in the office or house we’re leaving, and marking the new place
similarly.

Our sex lives are enhanced by the fact that we really do like each other.
We’re not only lovers and mates, but we’re actually best friends. There is
nobody in the world I’d rather spend time with, just talking, than Rob. He
is cute, funny, and attentive. He’s incredibly affectionate. He can get me
going by just a gentle rub on my shoulders. Rob is sexy, secure, and my
partner in crime, so to speak. When I want to do something naughty, Rob is
right there with me, as encouraging and excited as any woman could want.

“You know,” Rob said to me one night, as I was riding him and reading the
letters from one of our magazines, “there are lots of guys out there who
would love to fuck you.”

Now, we don’t talk like that around the children. But, we both believe in
open and honest communication when we’re alone with each other. I used to
be queasy about the words, but, over the course of our years together, I’ve
become accustomed to them.

“You think so?” I said. “But, why?”

“Because, you are a beautiful, desirable woman,” he said. “Really, I can
tell just by the way guys look at you.”

“But, I’m a married woman,” I protested, settling down on his cock and
squeezing it.

“That doesn’t make any difference,” he assured me. “Guys don’t care if
you’re married when they look at you. They just want the chance to sink
their dicks in you. Haven’t you been paying attention to these letters?” he
asked, waving the magazine in front of me.

“Sure I have,” I told him, “but, those are all gorgeous young things. Most
of them haven’t even had children yet. They can’t be talking about people
like us!”

“They’re exactly like us,” Rob insisted. “Guys like me and women just like
you.”

Of course, I thought Rob was out of his mind. My thighs were too thick, my
breasts sagged too much. I mean, I was hardly the same girl he married
twelve years ago. I was convinced nobody would be sexually attracted to
anybody like me. Boy, did I have it all wrong!

We quit talking at that point and I rode my lover to completion. But the
topic didn’t go away. The following evening Rob brought it up again.

“Here,” he said, handing over one of the older issues. “Read this one,” he
pointed to the block of print half-way down the page.

It began, “I never thought anybody would be interested in a frumpy old
housewife like me. But, when my husband started selecting clothes for me to
wear on our ‘dates’ together I found out that I could still turn a few
heads. Thanks to his help overcoming my fears, our sex lives have become
exciting again, and I’m getting a variety of cock I never dreamed possible.”

“Okay,” I nodded after reading the first paragraph. “If you dress like a
slut, people will think you’re a slut. No news here.”

“You don’t have to dress like a slut, Sam,” he said. “She doesn’t say
anything about dressing like a slut. She just found out she was still
attractive, and dressed appropriately. Go ahead,” he directed. “Read the
rest of the letter.”

The writer continued to describe how her husband had convinced her that in
spite of her doubts, there were men, handsome men, who would find her
attractive. Larry was right. The clothes he chose for her weren’t
especially slutty, she said, just more revealing that she would have chosen.
She recounted the clothing consisted of skirts with slits to the thigh,
blouses and tops that showed more cleavage than she was used to, and what
she called “fuck me pumps”, shoes of various colors to match the multiple
outfits, but all constructed with high heels and ankle straps.

“I felt very sexy just dressing in these outfits,” the writer recounted.
“Then my husband took me to one of those watering-holes where the lawyers
and MBA’s gathered after work, and I experienced the thrill of attention
from several young, gorgeous attorneys. We didn’t do anything exceptional
that night, but when we got home, I was hotter than a firecracker, and so
was my husband. We fucked and sucked and did everything imaginable all
night long.”

The letter told how the couple gradually went about selecting just the right
guy for her to invite into their bed. She told about her first experience
with her husband watching, concealed in a closet. The knowledge of him
being there and watching her as she sucked off this young CPA, then seeing
her spread her legs for her new lover, and urging him on to orgasm after
orgasm thrilled this woman so much she thought she would pass out.

By this time, I was so wet between my legs that I shifted uncomfortably in
my seat. There was no doubt that it was one hot story.

“Come on,” I told Larry, handing him the magazine. “Let’s go fuck.”

“On one condition,” he answered.

“What condition?” I said, standing up and holding out my hand to him,
anxious to have him nestled in my damp hole.

“I’m going to put a blindfold on you,” Larry said, “and I want you to
pretend that I’m that CPA she was fucking.”

That was it. I flooded right there. “Okay, yeah!” I agreed heartily.
“Let’s do it.”

And do it we did. I about went nuts when Larry put that blindfold on me.
He taunted me, saying things like “You like the taste of that strange cock,
don’t you?”, and, “You’re getting off knowing your husband is watching you
suck me off, aren’t you?”

I had to agree. Even though I knew it was Larry’s cock and Larry’s voice,
my imagination allowed me to believe I was screwing a stranger. My mind was
in sort of a red fog. I could actually feel my heart pounding with the
excitement generated by this role-playing.

Larry was really getting into his part. As he stripped the clothes off me
he kept commenting on various body parts. When he mentioned them, he would
either finger or lick at them.

“What a beautiful set of tits you’ve got,” he said. “I’ve been dreaming
about a set of tits like this. They’re incredible,” my husband said, his
voice strangely different. Then he locked his mouth on my nipple, licking
and sucking at it. My juices were flowing freely.

“That’s a fine, wet cunt you’ve got there, too,” he remarked, his fingers
snaking along the length of my sopping slit. “Bet you taste wonderful. You
want me to taste you?” he asked.

“Yes!” I moaned. “Yes, please taste my pussy,” I begged him.

“Then you have to ask your husband if I may,” Larry said. “Ask him to let
me eat your pussy.”

“Please, Larry,” I complied. “Can he eat my pussy, please?”

“You can’t see him,” Larry told me in that strange voice, “but I can. He’s
nodding. He wants to watch me eat you out. Is that what you want, too,
Sam? Do you want him to watch me eat you?”

This was getting surreal. I knew it was Larry. But, it wasn’t. Under my
blindfold, my eyes fluttered. Between my legs, I was burning up with
desire. I wanted to cum so badly. I wanted this stranger to eat my pussy,
and I wanted Larry to watch.

“Yes, oh yes!” I cried. “I want him to watch us. I want my husband to
watch while you eat me. Please! Please!” I wailed.

When his tongue hit my clitty, I exploded. My orgasm blasted over me and my
head reeled. I grabbed for the bed to steady myself so I wouldn’t fall off.
Between my legs, the tongue of that stranger dabbled and stroked, licked
and probed. I screamed my delight into the air. A huge ball of something
expanded in my gut until I felt like I could stand no more. When it
released it was like a long electric cable snaking out of my sopping pussy,
sparking and arcing as it smoothly slithered out of me. I screamed some
unintelligible words, just releasing all the pent-up energy inside me. The
red fog in my head turned into a super nova blasting flash after flash of
white-hot light throughout my brain.

“I’ll bet you’d like me to plant my cock inside you now,” the strange voice
whispered. I could smell the aroma of my sex on his face as he leaned over
me.

“Oh, god, yes!” I bellowed.

“Then ask your husband if I can fuck you,” he ordered.

“Oh, please, god, please. Fuck me,” I begged.

“Not until your husband says I can,” the odd voice whispered.

“Oh, Larry, please. Please let him fuck me. I want him to fuck me, Larry,”
I pleaded.

“Tell him you want to feel my cock buried in you,” the voice directed.
“Tell him you want him to watch.”

“Oh, Larry. Oh, Larry!” I moaned. “Please let him fuck me, Larry. I want
to feel his cock inside me. Please, Larry. And I want you to watch while
he fucks me. Oh, baby, I’ve never been this hot before. I need him to fuck
me!” I screamed.

I felt the knob of his cock at my sopping entrance. I grunted and thrust
toward him. I succeeded in getting only the bulge of his head inside me.

“Please,” I moaned. “Please fuck me!’ I thrashed about, trying to get more
of him inside me. I humped my hips toward him and a tiny fraction of an
inch more slid into me.

“Unnhhh!” I groaned with the effort. Now I was getting desperate and a
little angry. “I’m going to fuck him, Larry. I want to fuck him. I NEED
to fuck him. Say it’s okay, dammit! Tell him to fuck me!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Larry’s soft voice whispered in my ear. “You can
fuck her if you want to. She wants you to fuck her. It’s okay.”

I thrust my hips upward again. This time, he met my thrust and I finally
had him completely enveloped within me. I groaned with the pleasure.

“Oh, god, oh god,” I whimpered. “It’s so good, so good!’

I wrapped my arms around his neck and hitched my legs into his thighs. I
humped upward as he began to thrust into me. This was no gentle
love-making. This was pure, lustful fucking and I was consumed by it. I
bellowed and screamed as the waves of pleasure washed over me. He pounded
his cock into me like a locomotive and I met him thrust for thrust. My
heels pumped on his ass to urge him onward. I released his neck and grabbed
his hips, pulling him into me, then pushing him away, as quickly as I could.

“Larry’s watching you,” the voice said in my ear, a growl, really. “Larry’s
watching me fuck you and you fuck me back. What do you suppose he’s
thinking about his loving wife right now, humping away like this, begging
for a stranger to fuck her? What do you think he’s feeling, watching you
fuck like a woman possessed?”

“He’s hotter than hell,” I answered. “He likes watching me fuck like this.
He loves watching me come, unnnhhh, unnnnnh, unnnnhhhhh!” Little sparks
fired off in my brain as the orgasm smashed into me. My cunt muscles
spasmed on the thrusting cock, gripping, then releasing in the irregular
pattern of the climax.

“I’m going to come deep inside you,” my voice was growling. “I’m going to
spill my hot seed deep, deep within you. I’m going to grab your ass and
plow into you, then plant my seed in the deepest recesses of your hot,
steaming cunt.”

“Come inside me,” I urged, redoubling the efforts of my hips to meet his
increasingly powerful thrusts. “Spurt your hot cum deep inside me.” I dug
my heels into his thighs and bucked my hips toward him. “Fuck me deep.
Fuck me deeper!” I wailed.

His body tensed up. His hands grabbed my waist and pulled me hard onto his
rod. As the first hot spurt of his semen shot into me, I clenched on his
rod with my cunt and willed myself into the biggest orgasm of the night.

He growled, then groaned. He pulled back, then thrust into me with all his
strength. I screamed at the top of my voice my own release. “Oh god!” I
wailed. “Oh, please, dear god! I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’m cumming!”

It was all I could do to breathe. I gasped and panted while I pushed my sex
at him as hard as I was able. I felt his cock swell and spurting deep
within me. My legs had his torso in a scissors-lock, ankle crossed and
squeezing him as hard as I could. The orgasm seemed to go on for minutes.
Finally, as it slowly subsided, Larry removed the blindfold. I looked into
his flushed face, then laid hundreds of kisses all over it. As our
breathing returned to a more normal pattern, Larry rolled off me, his
flaccid cock plopping out.

“So,” he said, through still-labored breaths, “what do you think about
fucking another guy?”

“That,” I replied carefully, “was incredible.”

“Can you imagine what it would be like if it really was another guy?” he
asked.

“Hmmm,” I hummed, thoughtfully. “I don’t know. I think I’d be afraid.”

“Why? I’d be right there,” Larry told me. “Why would you be scared?”

“I don’t know,” I lied. “I’d just be … I don’t know. Maybe I’d hurt your
feelings.”

Larry didn’t say anything for a while. Then he said, “You think I’d be
humiliated?”

“Maybe. I guess. I don’t know.” I had a mixture of emotions right then
that I couldn’t get a hold on. I was thinking that if some guy really made
me ask Larry if he could screw me, Larry would be hurt. But, it was still
exciting to think about that strange cock pounding away at me.

“You did like our little play-acting event, though, didn’t you?” he asked.

“Well, yeah,” I answered. “Sure!”

“You didn’t seem to mind asking me to get fucked then, did you?” he pressed.

“But, that was you,” I argued. “I mean, I knew it was you.”

“Are you really worried about how I’d feel, Sam? Or are you worried about
how turned on you’d be and not give damn what I felt? Be honest.”

“Oh, Larry,” I said, rolling toward him and putting my arm across his chest,
“I don’t know, really. I mean, if I lose all my self-control, who knows
what I might say or do?”

“Good, then let’s talk about our feelings, Sam,” Larry said decisively.
“Since you seem to be having a hard time nailing yours down, let’s talk
about mine.

“My one regret,” he began, “was that I couldn’t see your eyes behind that
blindfold. I don’t want you blindfolded when we do this for real. I want
to see the unbridled passion, the pure lust in your eyes. The reason I made
you beg for it, beg to be eaten and fucked was to let you know that it was
always all right with me. I want your passion, Sam, and I want to see it
raw and exposed the way it was tonight. I was not humiliated. I won’t be.
I was more turned on than I have been in years, Sam. Hearing you beg for it
made me hard as a rock.”

“You really want me to do this, then?” I asked him. “You want me to fuck
somebody else in front of you?” I was a little incredulous.

“You’ve read the letters, Sam,” he answered. “It’s a tremendous turn on.
Why do you think they write them? I mean, doesn’t it turn you on when you
read them?”

“Well, yeah, it does,” I told him. “But, they’re just fantasies, you know
what I mean?”

“What we’ve proved tonight, though,” Larry said, “is that the concept does
make you hot as a two dollar pistol. The idea turns you on. All we’ve got
to do is take it the one additional step.”

“And make it reality, huh?” I said.

“That’s right.”

“But, what about us?” I asked.

“Us? Us is different. We make love. This other, well, it’s just fucking.
When we’re done, you and I are still together. Everything is still intact.
You’re not damaged just because you’ve gotten laid. Neither am I. We leave
together. We stay together. The other…well, that’s just entertainment.”

I rolled over and put my chin on my hands where they crossed on his chest.
“You really want to do this?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah,” he said. “I really do. You’ve got no idea how turned on it makes
me to think of you with a strange cock pounding into you, hearing you scream
and curse as you come. Hell, just the idea of it has got me getting hard
again. And, that’s no small feat after the screwing we just did.”

He was right. I looked down and his tool was growing again, bobbing as the
blood engorged it.

“What about you?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“When do you get laid?”

“I don’t know. Afterwards, I guess. We’ll make love.”

“What if it’s a couple?”

“I guess that depends on you,” he said.

“If I’m fucking him, she’s going to want to fuck you. That only seems
reasonable,” I admitted. “Would you?”

“Would you mind?” Larry asked.

“I’ll have to think about that,” I said. The image of Larry pumping his
cock into somebody else came into my mind. “I don’t know. I’ll think about
it.

“In the meantime,” I told him, “there’s something that needs tending to.” I
squirmed upward, then straddled my best friend. I took hold of his
hardening cock and aimed him at my dripping entrance. “Do you mind sloppy
seconds?” I asked.

“Not at all,” Larry said as he slid smoothly inside me.
 
 

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About the Town, Pt_ 1