Home Invasion Ch. 03

"Inside every woman Shane there's a whore waiting to get out and have her fun. Most men are too selfish to let that happen, but a few generous husbands like you let that whore out and have their fun with her. But what it boils down to Shane is fucking − enjoying sex and not getting hung up on what your sexual desires are. Not feeling bad or guilty about 'em. Different strokes for different folks."

Then she said with a chuckle, "And darling, it's only ONE night a week."

"Will that be enough for you?" I asked, chuckling with her.

"The question is will it be enough for Roger," she said laughing.

"I don't want to lose him Donna," I said seriously. "I really like to watch. I want to treat him nice and keep him. I want him to get all the pussy he can handle."

She grinned at me and reached down and patted her beaver.

"Trust me baby," she said slowly in her sexiest voice. "I really want to keep fuckin that big bastard. Your good buddy Roger Adler is gonna get as much of your loving wife's pussy as he can handle. And every piece is gonna be personalized and user-friendly. And you're gonna watch it happen, up close and pounding your peter, no matter how many days a week it takes. And early on Shane, I think he'll want a lot more pussy than he can get in one night a week. You know how guys are with new pussy."

As she talked I felt my dick rise up in a throbbing erection. She was fingering the thick curly hair of her beaver and I could see her clitoris rock hard and standing out like a lead pencil. She looked at my dick and then down at her clit and chuckled.

"He affects both of us the same way darling. I wanna fuck that big bastard as much as you wanna watch me do it."

I was trembling with arousal as I spoke.

"If he's as horny as I think he is, Donna," I said, "you're gonna be spreading those lovely legs a lot. He fucked you five times during this one day visit."

"Yeah and I could spread 'em again this very minute for number six, darling," she said fingering her clit. "Your wife has a peter-hungry pussy. This pussy's been starved for two years and it'll take months for her to catch up on what she's missed. And I expect yeoman service from that little pecker of yours too."

"And darling," she added, "always remember to thank him, every time he comes over to fuck me. It's good for his ego."

"Jesus!" I shouted angrily. "He's drinking my scotch and fuckin my wife and he needs me to thank him to build up his God damned ego?"

Donna laughed loudly and then giggled suggestively. "He's our dildo honey. We want to keep him coming back."

"You mean I should just walk up to him man to man and say, 'Thank you for fucking my wife' every time he leaves?"

She giggled again and said, "Well ... honey ... it's not exactly ... ah ... man to man, is it? It's more like ... well, you know ... I don't like that word."

"Just SAY it one time Donna. Let me hear you say it," I said.

She giggled again, looked me in the eye, and said vigorously, "Face it Shane. It ain't man to man. It's cuckold to stud!"

Then she laughed and then laughed some more until she had tears in her eyes.

Damn! The way she spit out that word "cuckold" grabbed me in the groin and I looked down to see if I still had my balls.

"If you don't like that word why are you laughing so much?" I asked.

"I didn't say the word wasn't funny darling. I just said I didn't like it."

Then she laughed again and said, "But please thank him privately. I don't want to laugh out loud when I hear you do it. The thought of one guy saying that to another guy just breaks me up. But the Judge always does it and Roger says he likes to hear it. So please do it."

Shit! I thought. If she wants me to do it I guess I'll have to, but the grin on that big bastard's face when I say it is gonna be hard to take.

We sat and watched the leaves fall for several minutes but then she had a new thought and got a look of concern on her face. She spoke to me in a very serious tone of voice.

"But there was something I didn't understand about that failed fantasy fuck."

"Tell me what it was darling," I asked.

"Today in that fantasy, I don't remember what he said to me, only the sudden feeling that you were not there which ended the whole thing for me. You heard him. What did he say to me? What did I say to him?"

"He was gentle and loving and you responded lovingly," I said.

She looked at me suspiciously and asked, "Lovingly? What do you mean by that?"

"He was telling you he loved you and trying to get you to say you loved him too. But then you woke up."

"The bastard!" She said. "I knew it! He does that to Joanie. She and the Judge have been married for twenty years and they are very much in love. Roger gives her one of those love fucks and she just goes wild and tells him how much she loves him with the Judge listening. Joanie is crazy about the love fuck but hates what it does to her husband."

"It's like kicking the Judge in the balls, but the humiliation of hearing his wife make love to another man really turns him on. He wacks off till his little five-inch peter is black and blue. And today that bastard tried to make ME say I loved him!"

I tried to ignore her reference to a little five-inch peter, chuckled, and reached over for her hand.

"But you woke up," I said. "He got you close but you weren't quite there."

"It pisses me off that he was trying to kick you in the balls."

"Don't worry about him kicking me in the balls honey." I said. "Trust me. When that big bastard is making the woman I love grunt like a whore, my balls are very hard to find."

I was rewarded for my cleverness by a burst of shrill laughter and I knew she was remembering what Roger told her on the porch about me being glad my balls were gone.

I laughed with her and then we sat in silence for several more minutes watching the leaves fall and thinking about our new lifestyle.

Then I asked softly, "Do you fantasize that you are castrating me?"

She thought for a moment and then said frankly, "In my fantasy, I don't castrate you. I don't know who does that."

Then she chuckled, "Maybe you castrate yourself. Oh shit! I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

Jesus! Roger had said exactly that! Maybe I do. Maybe all cuckolds do.

She thought a moment more and then said, "It's very strange! You just seem to be that way the moment I spread my legs for another guy and you don't try to stop me. A castrated man has no power over his woman. He can only watch helplessly as the woman he loves enjoys another man. That is a very erotic thought for me because I know how much you enjoy watching me fuck. So I look at you and you're castrated − your balls are gone and I'm glad."

She said it very seriously but suddenly she chuckled and then started laughing and I knew she was remembering what Roger told her on the porch.

"Maybe in the future," she said, "I ought to think that your balls are gone and we're BOTH glad."

Her laugh got louder and I joined in. Shit! We're both perverts! I wonder if other couples do this kind of crazy stuff?

When our laughter died down I asked, "When you look back at me and grin and wink when you start to fuck, are you thinking the same thing?"

"Oh No. I'm seeing the fun you're having watching. And I'm trying to say to you that I hope you enjoy watching me fuck as much as I enjoy fucking -- like we're a COUPLE both enjoying sex together."

Shit! I was watching her fuck another guy and WE were a couple enjoying sex together. That guy was sorta like a dildo for both me and her. I wonder if that's what she meant?

I looked at her seriously and said, "Well darling I do enjoy it with you. We're a couple enjoying the same dildo."

With that she burst out laughing again and this time nodding her head rapidly.

"That's it. That's EXACTLY what it is. You've just explained to me why I started calling Roger a dildo. I never thought of it that way before. But it is! Two lovers enjoying the same dildo!"

I was turning on with her talk about Roger and especially her sexy laughter. My peter got hard again and stuck straight up. One thing about being naked, it's hard to hide your emotions.

She looked at my dick and giggled. "You're little dick is getting hard again."

"Dammit!" I said. Why do you keep calling it my LITTLE dick?"

Again she burst out in laughter. She was really having fun with our new relationship and it made her seem younger − almost like a giggling teenager. Then pulling herself together, she paused a moment in thought.

"Okay baby," she said, "I do it for three reasons. First, 'little' is a term of endearment and I love your dick. Second, every time I say it you get the funniest expression on your face. And third, I say it to prove my love for you."

"Okay, I understand the first two - endearment and kidding me - but how the hell does calling my dick LITTLE prove your love for me?"

"It's simple darling," she said. "Any woman who can lust after a five-inch dick is most certainly deeply in love."

"YOU BITCH!" I yelled. "THAT'S NOT FUNNY!"

"It is to me darling. Now it's my turn," she said. "Let me ask YOU a question and I want an honest answer."

"Okay I'll give you an honest answer," I said.

"It might embarrass you," she warned.

"Embarrass away my darling. Nothing could be more embarrassing than watching a heavy-hung stud bang my wife like a drum for the past twenty-four hours."

She smiled and said, "Are you sure about that? My question is what was your fantasy Monday night when I was giving you a hand job and whispering in your ear. In your fantasy you saw me fucking someone? WHO was it?"

It hit me like a truck! I'd seen Roger Adler fucking her on the beach in my fantasy. Shit! Why is she asking me this? Because she planted him in my head? But she didn't plant HIM -- she only described a big uncircumcised cock! I had thought about that cock and then I imagined her fucking Roger.

I sat there stunned. I can't say that. I ... I ... just can't!

She smiled at me as though she could read my thoughts.

Then she giggled and asked, "You thought fucking him was MY idea because I invited him up here Tuesday. But which one of us had the idea of me fuckin Roger on Monday? Who thought of him first?"

"You put him in my head you bitch!" I shouted.

"No darling. I only put a big dick in your head. You're the one that figured out who you wanted that dick to belong to."

How the hell does she know what's in my head I asked myself? The answer popped up quickly: Twenty years of loving me.

She stood up and walked slowly over to me, reached down, and fondled my testicles.

"They're back," she said with a giggle. "And I'm glad. It's only in fantasy that I need 'em gone. In real life I need 'em here. They're here now so let's put 'em to work."

Then she grabbed my dick like a handle, and pulled me toward the bedroom. She had pulled Roger the same way last night but he had a much larger handle than I did.

"It's bedtime somewhere," she said, looking out at the sun. "Lets go to bed and fuck."

She led me to our bed, laid down, spread her legs and pulled me on top of her.

"You won't need any lube baby because I been wanting to do this ever since Roger left. Think of this as a thank-you-fuck. Thank you for coming back into my life and thank you for joining me in my perverted sex − those fantasies that I never knew I had before you showed them to me."

Then she kissed me on the lips and said, "Plug that thing in and start with a loving marital fuck. I want to fuck my husband first -- the man I love. Then I want you to fuck me like your personal whore -- you called me that last night if you remember."

I followed her instructions and we began a slow loving fuck -- a marital fuck as she called it. As I enjoyed her body I realized that there were many different ways to fuck a woman. Like a loving wife, like a horny bitch, like a whore, like someone else's wife. Shit! That might be fun. I wonder if Sarah feels neglected?

Then a nagging question popped up in my head. You shouldn't ask this I told myself but I couldn't resist the temptation.

"So you really do love me and not Roger?" I asked, continuing our marital fuck.

"Am I in love with Roger?" She said in her loud office manager voice. "Jesus baby! Don't get our perverted fantasies mixed up with our real life. I'm in love with his DICK. But baby YOU'RE the MAN I love."

She pulled me closer and we fucked gently as she continued talking in a soft, loving voice.

"Would Roger have saved that confused girl in college? Would he have married that silly girl and given her two beautiful children and a wonderful life together? Would he have been faithful to ONE woman for TWENTY years? Would he have sacrificed himself to save a son that everyone else gave up on? No way baby! YOU did all that and much, much more."

Then she said harshly, "And what was that ungrateful bitch doing while her husband almost destroyed himself to save her son? Did she try to help him? Did she try to understand him? Hell no! She was off swapping hand jobs with his best friend because she couldn't resist a ten-inch cock! And then, the man she betrayed offered her loving forgiveness."

"You're the man I love baby and don't you ever forget it! And if you ever doubt me and want to test what I say, just go out and find me a guy who has an ELEVEN-inch cock and then watch Roger Adler become history!"

We continued to fuck and she looked off to the side as though thinking about her answer and finally said, "Even if you don't doubt me, please feel free to look for a guy with an eleven-inch cock."

We both laughed together like lovers. And I knew we were both thinking about a dildo larger than the one we were gonna enjoy in our fantasies next Thursday night.

She squeezed my chest tightly and said, "Now let me get my damn clit where it belongs and spread my legs wider so you can pound me like a whore and when we cum we'll run down to the lake and wash off our juices and I can start supper like a proper wife. Then we can go to bed and fuck again. Then we'll go to sleep thinking about a weekend of you fucking my brains out. You're BACK baby and I need you."

She positioned her clit on my pubic bone and started to pump her ass with enthusiasm. I was a very lucky man or lucky cuckold or lucky pervert or a lucky something!