I Wanted Her To Do It

I finally broke the ice and said, "Something is up, honey, what is it?"

Rachel said, and I'll never forget this to the day I die, "I went to Chad's apartment yesterday."

She rubbed her eyes, blotting tears.

I was floored. My blood pressure rose. My heart beat fast. I wanted to stop the car. I was angry. I was excited. I was aroused.

"Tell me more," I said.

"Not here, I'll tell you at home. Do you love me? I love you. I'm so sorry" She was obviously panicked.

As soon as the door closed to the apartment I kissed her passionately. I whispered in her ear, "You can make it up if you just fuck me."

In our bedroom I pulled off her clothes. She must have been shocked at my attitude. She stood before me in all her glory, her skirt and panties removed. I knelt down and aggressively kissed her pubic mound and grabbing her ass cheeks. I couldn't get enough of her body. My fingers tried to probe her anus. She batted my hand away in shock.

"I'll always love you," I said in between kisses to her lower pelvis. "Just fuck me now."

She lay on the bed, spread eagle. Then I saw the bruise. It was just below and to the right or her pussy, where her ass met her leg. I examined her cunt for signs of sex. At first I saw nothing, I couldn't really tell. Maybe her pussy was different, probably it was my imagination.

As I rolled on the condom I put it on backward at first, then flipped it around. I was a bundle of nerves. I lathered my latex covered cock with lube.

"Tell me what happened," I commanded.

Rachel started, "After you left, I was so horny. I called him that night. We arranged to meet yesterday."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked. "You could have called."

"I was afraid you'd say no," she answered, "I'm so sorry." Again she started crying.

I placed my cock at her entrance and penetrated her, thinking how Chad must have done it. "Don't be sorry. I asked you to. I love you. Tell me what happened."

She gasped for a moment, and continued, "I went to his place. Inside we kissed. I was so nervous. It felt wrong, I wanted to leave but I couldn't. I had to stay. There was some touching." Her voice trailed off and she closed her eyes, trying to make it count again between her legs.

"Did, you," I paused, knowing the answer, "Did he have sex with you?"

"Yes," Rachel admitted.

I furiously fucked her, thrusting into her with all the passion and desire I'd ever had for her. "Oh God," I said. "I love you." My wife to be, fucked by another man, "How many times did he take you?"

Rachel gasped, "three times," and arched her pussy to my groin, trying to fill her insides with my hardness.

"Did you use protection?" The thrusting continued.

Rachel confessed, "Not the third time. I had to feel him inside me without the condom. It hurt too much and he had no lubrication. I'm sorry."

I rage fucked her harder than ever. Three times. THREE TIMES. I never fucked her three times. And without a condom. We almost always used a condom. Chad, that fucking stud bastard.

I desperately thrust into her in an attempt to reclaim her. Now it was my turn to panic. I said a prayer that went something like, "Oh Jesus, oh fuck, oh Jesus, what if she's pregnant. She'd never get an abortion. She'd want to keep it. Please no."

I kept it up for five minutes, her hard panting turning into a loud moans, prodding me on with calls of "deeper, harder". Eventually her moaning subsided and she told me to finish as she was sore.

"Sore from fucking Chad,"I thought and spurted into the rubber receptacle as quickly as I could. My balls ached. My cock wouldn't even fully soften.

Post coitus, the reality overwhelmed me and the black fog returned. We lay there in silence for a few minutes as she nuzzled against me, still holding my hand. Although part of me felt like a beaten man, I was comforted. She loved me. She wanted to be with me.

Still, it shocked me how Rachel had taken my request and went out of her way to make it happen. Despite her denials, she obviously had stronger feelings for Chad than she let on.

I asked her, "Does he know I know?"

"No. I can't do that. It would be too strange."

I answered, "I dunno, I'd rather him think you had my permission instead of thinking you were a run of the mill cheater. He might try to steal you from me."

"Well I didn't think of it that way. I didn't want him to think we were weird."

I thought her logic was faulty, a guy like that probably didn't have a whole lot of respect for her, but I couldn't be certain. Still, the bed was made. I asked her to fuck him and she did. I said, "What the fuck do we do now?"

"We wait two weeks to see if I get my period," she answered.

I sat in silence. How quickly I'd forgotten. Did I just fuck my pregnant girlfriend? I was numb as I said, "Whatever happens happens."

It may sound ridiculous, but we actually cried together. We cuddled and apologized to each other. I told her I loved her no matter what, that I'm sorry I pushed her into it. Amazingly we had sex again, healing sex.

That evening we cozied up to each other on the couch and watched TV. My eyes were drawn to her lower belly. Maybe I'm too creative, too contemplative. I placed my hand on her belly and held it there. In this tender moment she turned and kissed me on the lips. Could there be something in there? Growing? Was my wife another man's vessel? My cock poked into her back and she laughed, shifting. I resolved to love her even if she was pregnant.

A couple of weeks went by and imagine our relief when her period started. Chad had called her at home a couple of times. When she told me this I got horny. I was downright pavlovian.

Rachel asked Chad to refrain from calling back. Also, her family remembered him and knew of their prior relationship. They would get suspicious and we certainly didn't want the embarrassment. "Do you want me to tell him I don't want to see him again?"

A was amazed at the question. I thought that was a settled issue but clearly Rachel still considered it an option. My sperm filled balls wanted to roll the dice. Luckily my brain intervened in a rare moment of maturity. "We dodged a bullet. Let's not be stupid. Fantasy and reality are two different things."

And so amazingly we still kept the fantasy of him in our sex life. The fear of pregnancy passed and we were back to our old tricks.

Her graduation, not to mention our wedding and honeymoon approached, adding a whole other level of stress to our lives. Our honeymoon was planned for Europe, four weeks in mostly London, Paris and Rome. I was lucky to get the time off.

Graduation came and went. Two weeks before the wedding I came up with one of my most screwed up ideas. We were hiking, and had found a nice gully where we could cater to our other hobby, rebellious, quasi-exhibitionist sex. This was a game to us. Rachel pulled down her shorts, and leaned bent over a fallen log for support while I railed her from behind. As I slipped my cock in, I asked if she was up for hearing a fantasy of mine.

"Imagine on our honeymoon, maybe in Paris, maybe Rome. Imagine we found somebody for you to play with." I paused and she asked me to continue.

"You get hit on so often. Maybe you see someone you like. Maybe you want to have more than just two men in your whole life. You want to have an adventure." I said.

I knew I was on the right track because she reached down between her legs and rubbed her clit as I fucked her. She didn't say anything.

"What do you think of that idea?"

"I think it sounds hot," she said, breathing heavily. "You think you could really do that for me?"

"Easily," I said. I was fucking her quickly now. At the last possible moment I pulled out and shot my load into the dirt, flinging my cock to get all the cum off.

She pulled up her hiking shorts. "God that was great. You are such a sex maniac."

I looked at her, stuffing my now semi-soft cock back in my underwear as I zipped up. As usual, the doubts returned and I said, "Maybe it's a dumb idea."

She smiled and kissed me, "It's not that dumb," and we forgot about it.

The wedding went off without a hitch. Her dad, who never sheds tears, got a little dusty as he led his precious daughter up the aisle. Our Pastor, who we'd known since we could barely walk led the ceremony. We held the reception at a country club.

We flew into London two days later, true loving honeymooners. Strangers in restaurants tbought us drinks, I stuck with soda although Rachel sometimes sipped wine or champagne. We held hands on our walking tours, kissed in museums, hugged in the parks. We also fucked like bunnies. We enjoyed our time in England and were sad to see it go as we departed for Paris.

In London we'd gotten hotel rooms and ate fancy meals. It was expensive. We promised ourselves that in Paris we'd go cheap. We'd booked a stay in a youth hostel to play the vagabond travelers. That seemed appropriate for Paris. If we hated it, we could always check out.

The hostel we picked was great. Paris is a crowded city. To the American eye, even the major hotels can appear jam packed into grand old buildings, and this place was no exception. I exited the taxi and noted the plethora of parked mopeds and motorbikes that ordinary Parisians took to work. The front desk was small and efficient. A bar catering to the guests stretched to what looked like a courtyard in back.

The clerk was our age and not bad looking and immediately Rachel flirted with him. Imagine my surprise when my new wife told him we were brother and sister. It seemed she stuck out her chest a little more than normal as she said it. I stood there silently. Was this really happening?

I'll make something clear now. I'm not an idiot. I didn't really expect Rachel to follow through with my fantasy. She hadn't mentioned it since that day hiking.

"But your passports, they have different last names?" he asked.

"Half-sister," I replied helpfully.

We were booked into a communal room, with two bunks. She chose a bottom bunk. I purposely chose the other bottom bunk. If anything happened, I didn't want to get stuck up top, wondering what was going on.

She sat down and I absentmindedly sat next to her and she shifted away. "Watch it, brother," and she smiled at me and winked.

This would take some getting used to. We showered and planned on doing some sightseeing, the Eiffel Tower being the first stop. Being a guy I naturally finished quickly. I waited for her by the bar near the entrance, striking up a conversation with a Norwegian couple.

After 45 minutes my wife came down the stairs. She looked incredible. Clearly she had prepared herself. She looked like she was going on a date. She wore a one piece cocktail dress that fit snugly and showed off her ample bosom. To keep warm she wore a denim jacket unbuttoned. Her gold jewelry accented her tan skin and dark blonde hair. Her only compromise was semi-comfortable heels that she could walk in. I waved her over and this time it was my turn to introduce my "sister" before we departed.

We had a great time, walking all over the central part of the city. Paris is truly a tourist's paradise. The history and architecture impressed us deeply. By the time we returned to the hostel it was turning dark. Even more people milled about the bar area. Single people our age were just getting the party started. I felt jealous of them.

We hung out in the bar when Rachel started getting chatted up by an Australian guy, Dave. I just knew in my gut that this might work out. He helpfully offered to buy us drinks. She seemed relaxed and talked easily with him, laughing at his jokes and they didn't shy away from physical contact. She sipped more wine. I drank Coke. He had some sort of hard alcohol.

Dave invited us to go clubbing with him and his friends. My wife readily agreed. The next thing I know I'm following them and two of his friends into some nightclub. My cock was stiff and the angst in the pit of my stomach gnawed at me. She danced with him, winking at me from time to time. He leaned over to kiss her and she returned it, strobe lights flashing and colors that bathed the dancers. It wasn't even a slow dance.

I wanted to scream, but stroked my cock through my jeans pocket, enjoying the emotional stress. By this time there was no longer self doubt or guilt. I suppose a psychologist would say I was conditioning myself to eroticize the stress of her infidelity.

During a rare bathroom break I asked Rachel if she thought she could go through with this. She asked the same of me and I said yes. I told her she should bring him back to the hostel in a half hour. I told her I would return now and get in bed, pretending to sleep.

And that's what I did. I waited thirty minutes. Thirty minutes turned into forty-five, then into an hour. I cursed myself and her. I felt abandoned. I wondered if they went somewhere else. Around midnight I heard her voice and the doorknob jiggle. It opened and they entered. She seemed tipsy and they made out. It was just the three of us. The other bunks hadn't yet been claimed.

Rachel whispered my name to "prove" to him I was asleep. I played possum and didn't answer. The lights were off but light came in through a large pane glass window. I prayed they wouldn't close the blinds.

I wanted to see.

They sat on her bunk and kissed. As Rachel's lips and tongue explored his mouth, his hands pawed at her legs. I watched him pull up the hem of her dress, slowly and deliberately pet the inside of her thigh. She spread her legs to give him better access. Because she sat on the edge of the bed I could see straight up between her legs. He stroked her through her panties which were thin enough to not leave much to the imagination, then slid his fingers underneath to her bare skin. I knew he struck gold as she twitched.

If you haven't watched your wife make out with some guy, his hand underneath her panties fingering her, you haven't lived. I couldn't believe my eyes. Dave couldn't care less about me and was busy nuzzling her neck. Rachel looked down at me, saw me looking at her, smiled and winked.

Then she pawed at Dave's crotch while staring at me. He reached down to free himself and the next thing I see is his hard cock pop out. Rachel stroked it while seductively smiling at me. I blew her a kiss. His hard shaft was fairly long and thick, maybe eight inches long. After a few minutes of basically masturbating one another, she leaned back.

He knew what to do as soon as Rachel opened her legs for him, her skirt hiked up to her waist. He leaned in between her legs, pulled her panties to the side and mounted her. Her powerful legs spread wide like a gymnast. I can still picture his hairy balls and the way his shaft disappeared between my wife's labia. She gasped as it penetrated her. She pulled at his hips, trying to pull him deeper into her.

My wife absolutely enjoyed the sex. She picked up her pillow and bit it to stifle her screams. It occurred to me that here we were YET AGAIN with no protection. He bounced up and down, thrusting into her. I threw caution to the wind and stroked my cock under the blanket as I watch him desecrate Rachel's pussy.

Suddenly his strokes got all herky jerky and he thrust hard into Rachel. I knew he was blowing his load directly into her fertile womb. I studied his balls, and sure enough they contracted.

Dave fell onto her and they kissed in a sweaty heap. With the sudden quiet, I had to stop stroking myself lest I look like some sort of incestuous dumbass. He got up and put his pants on. My wife sat up, looking at me. She asked Dave if he didn't mind leaving, saying she wanted to get ready for bed. He happily obliged, the fucker not thinking twice as he abandoned his sperm filled conquest.

As soon as the door shut I said, "Come here," She stood up, adjusting her panties and I told her to leave them on. She came to my bed. "Sit on my face," I said. "Suck my cock."

She hesitated then leaned over, careful not to hit her head on the top bunk. Her legs straddled me, her cum soaked panties hovered above my chest. I reached out and touched the slick fabric. Cum. Real cum, sperm, not mine. Her pubic hair was matted and looked sticky. She sighed.

"I want to eat your pussy," I said. She shifted her body and lowered herself closer to my face. I smelled it. I smelled him. I gently kissed the wet fabric, finding it surprisingly cool. I tugged at it with my lips, desperate to taste the damp fluid.

My tongue found her salty bare skin and I planted more soft kisses, her wet pubic hair tickling my nose. My lips slid across her exposed pubic area. As my lips and tongue explored, semen coated curls ended up in my mouth. I was repulsed yet fascinated.

"Take off your panties," I said. She dismounted me and stood by the side of the bed, her wide hips accentuating her pubic mound. She pulled her panties down and a sticky web of cum stretched between her pussy and the fabric. I groaned at the sight.

Rachel pulled her underwear all the way down and kicked them off. "Please," I asked, "sit on my face again. Please."

She straddled me, holding onto a bar on the frame of the bunk above for support. This time her pussy faced me.

"Hold on," she said, and I paused. She reached underneath and fingered herself. It was as if she primed her pussy, her finger entering dry, emerging wet and slick. A small glob of white sperm emerged and she withdrew her finger. My heart beat fast as the tip of my tongue captured the goo; salty and impossibly smooth as it melted in my mouth. I swallowed and dove in hoping to capture more of the bounty, my tongue aching as I stretched it deep into Rachel's canal.

I wanted to suck all of him from her; partially because I was scared of the biological possibilities, although I knew it was probably a pointless exercise. If his sperm was deep in her, some was never coming out. But I enjoyed wallowing in the humiliation of the moment. Another man had climaxed inside Rachel, whom I adored and cherished, and she fed me her pussy as my reward.

It occurred to me that I better fuck her. If she was going to get pregnant, I wanted to have a fighting chance of being the father.

"I want to fuck you like he fucked you," I said. She rose and we adjusted positions. She spread her legs for me. Her pussy was a mess, her labia framing her now gaping hole. I placed my cock up to her and slid in easily.

In truth I could barely feel her. My balls slapped her ass. "Did you like his large cock?" I asked.

Rachel said, "It filled me so much it hurt. But it hurt good." I was genuinely happy for her even if I was a little ashamed at my smaller cock. Trust me, my penis is not that small. It's almost six inches although I could fit it into a toilet paper roll.

I continued my rhythmic pumping. Imagine our shock as the doorknob once again shook. We froze, mid coitus, as Dave came back in. He stared at us.

"Fucking hell..." was all he said. He quickly gathered his wits, "Just need my wallet, thanks."

Sure enough, it had fallen out earlier and he picked it up off the floor. When he closed the door he erupted in laughter. We could hear voices talking with him. I furiously began fucking my wife, cumming within fifteen seconds. My wife was mortified.

I got up and marched over, sticking my head out the door. I saw four other guys with Dave looking at me from the hallway. I gave them a big shit eating grin. Evidently we made so much noise the little perverts did what I would have done, gathered in to listen.

"In point of fact," I paused for effect, they hung on my every word, "she is actually my wife." I looked at Dave and said in my best Australian accent, "Thanks mate. You can come back in if you want." And he did. The room went nuts as we closed the door.

And that's how that night went. By the time I fell asleep, in a puddle of my own cum, listening to the rhythm of my lovely wife getting fucked again, I was exhausted. It was sexual overload, and I was more than happy to let him take care of her as I drifted off to sleep.