Neighborhood Butt Fuck

Story Info
A wife offers her ass to the whole neighborhood.
5.9k words
4.51
293.3k
216

Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 10/26/2022
Created 11/29/2011
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
bbonz1
bbonz1
553 Followers

To the reader: Sometimes it's fun to just explore a story premise without getting too involved in character development and motivations. This is one of those stories.

Tom looked at his wife on the floor next to their bed. She was naked, her skin gleaming in the artificial light. On all fours, her ponderous tits dangled invitingly, and below the broad expanse of her round ass, he could see the tight pucker of her asshole and the full lips of her shaved pussy, ready and waiting for whatever might come their way. Poised above her, like a spider about to inject its prey, a man carefully adjusted his positioning so he could mount her without losing his balance. The appendage between his legs was already thick and hard, the sac behind it ripe and ready to explode.

"Lube," Tom said. It was a statement, not a question. A subtle reminder to the man that he could ravage Angela all he wanted, and all she wanted, but wasn't allowed to hurt her. At least not permanently.

"Two drops," the man grunted, his tone flat. Tom reached between them and carefully let two drops of the viscous fluid drip into the tight crevice of her anus. They used an especially thick lube so it wouldn't get quickly swept away, leaving her vulnerable to raw rubbing. Two drops was enough to ease the penetration, at least at first. That was satisfactory.

His wife looked back at him, anticipation written all over her face. She smiled seductively and nodded back at the man perched above her butt. The movement caused her tits to sway and shudder, and his own dick twitched with desire. It was her tits that first attracted him to her, and her tits that he would fuck later that night. The man could have her ass. He didn't know what he was missing.

The man finally appeared ready to begin. "Pictures? Or movies?" Tom asked, though it had been clear from the man's entrance into the room that he wasn't interested in a porn shoot this night. Still, given the choice of continuing to watch the TV show that had been on when the man first burst into their bedroom, and watching his wife get ass fucked by that big, fat cock, he'd take the latter. And if he was going to do that, he might as well record it all for viewing at a later date.

"Either," the man replied, his voice still flat. He was clearly ready to begin and not in the mood for such frivolities. But, it wouldn't have been good form to completely ignore Tom. He was, after all, providing the use of his wife for the greater good.

Tom grabbed the pro-sumer camera they'd recently purchased. It took excellent close-up pictures in poor lighting, but also took great movies. He could switch back and forth as needed. He was glad he hadn't decided to oil up and jerk off while they fucked in front of him. Then he'd have to wipe all that oil off his hands. No point in getting the camera all slimy.

Without looking back to see if he was ready, the man dipped his body down slightly, until the tip of his cock just filled the crater of her anus. Then he lifted it out, the mushroom head now sparkling with the thick lube that had transferred to it. Tom got a good shot of that, a calm prelude to the violence that was to come.

* * *

Alcohol had been at the heart of it. The imbibing of too much of it. He'd been drunk. Very, very drunk. And so had said far too much.

The bi-weekly poker game had been winding down, with all the guys taking a last break before finishing up the night with one last round of hands. Tom could still see the scene in his head, though who said what was a bit unclear. One of the guys had just finished a particularly raunchy joke about a man assfucking his wife, when "That sounds like my wife" had come completely unbidden from his mouth.

"That sounds like your wife?" someone asked, a bit incredulously. It was here, Tom knew, that he still would've had a chance to salvage it. "No, I said, 'That sounds like your wife,'" would've been a completely acceptable answer. Or, "No, I didn't say anything," would've worked too. But what he answered instead was, "Yeah, that sounds like my wife. She wants to get it in the ass every day. And frankly, I'm getting sick of it."

The room had suddenly gone quiet, with all the guys listening to see just how deep a hole he was going to dig for himself. "Every day?" someone prompted. There was no way they were going to let this tidbit pass unexamined.

"Yeah, every day," he replied morosely. "She's a nympho. Every man's dream, right? Except it's a sickness, and she won't take the drugs, and not going to cheat, so I gotta take care of her needs every day. And every day she wants it in the ass. Every. Day. And toys don't take care of it. It's ev-er-y day. And I don't even like anal all that much." He ran out of breath, his diatribe over for a minute.

"Bullshit!" someone had called out. "There's no such thing as nymphos, right Raj?" They all turned and looked expectantly at Raj Beruj, the M.D. in their little group. Raj was just as drunk as all of them, but he managed to summon up a bit of professional demeanor. He wasn't a psychologist, but he was a general practitioner, and he did occasionally avail himself of the medical journals on sexual maladies and treatments.

"No, it's not bullshit," he pronounced gravely, using his best professional voice. "It's not like in the movies, but there is a segment of the population that does suffer from nymphomania and its symptoms." He was especially proud of himself that he hadn't stumbled over any of the multi-syllable words. "She's been professionally diagnosed, then?"

"Yep. Psychiatrists and medical doctors," Tom answered, not at all caring about who overheard the conversation now.

"And she won't take the medication?" Raj continued the interrogation. It was part of every doctor's trade: keep asking questions until you get to the root of the problem. Even when drunk, that training came through.

"No, she says it makes her tired all the time."

"Yes, I've heard that," Raj replied. He hadn't heard that, but sometimes it was best to just agree with the patient. He was about to ask another question when someone else piped in, "Shit, Tom. If you need some help in that area, I'd be glad to volunteer. My wife hates taking it in the ass!"

The room went totally silent at that. These kinds of conversations didn't happen among men. They'd let Tom go on because, well, he was drunk and it'd be funny to see what he said next. But for someone to confess something about their own wife? It just wasn't done. You could talk about wanting to butt fuck some celebrity, or someone they all knew. You could suggest someone else go fuck themselves. But you didn't reveal something about your own marriage like this. Anyone who'd been sober, though there weren't any in that room, would've felt the conversation teetering on a precipice, like a sled on the edge of hurtling down a snow-covered mountain.

"Mine either. And I could do it every day," Sal the real estate agent piped in. And the whole sled plunged down the mountainside. Jack confessed that his wife would never do it in their house, even when the kids were away. Mark's wife Stephanie, who had one of the most gorgeous butts anyone had ever seen, would only go anal on special occasions, like Mark's birthday or their anniversary. Raj's wife, who was supposed to be more compliant in the Indian culture, had gone American and was exercising her rights to say no. Even Tony had confessed to being less than happy with his access to his wife's ass, though it had taken some harsh prodding to get him to join in the confession. In fact, they'd had to pressure him pretty hard, invoking the 'we've all said something so now you have to' rule in order to get past his strong Italian pride.

They'd gone back to playing cards then, and Tom had good-naturedly taken all their ribbing about being so anal about stacking his chips and washing his hands after playing and putting his fingers in places where they don't belong. And he'd staggered home up a few bucks and giddily happy because of that. Angela was fast asleep when he got home and he was happy he wouldn't have to try and get it up, cuz the alcohol was making his head spin.

The next day was Saturday, thank the lord, and it wasn't until his head stopped throbbing that he remembered what he'd said the night before. He knew right away that he'd have to tell Angela. The rule at poker was "What happens at poker night stays at poker night." But that would only last until some guy would get frustrated at his wife's refusal to have anal sex and blurt out, "Well Angela loves to get it in the ass," and then the wife would demand an explanation and the wives would get hold of it and his wife would be the object of all their scorn and derision.

Tom chose his moment very carefully. They'd had a good day together, doing chores, heading out for some shopping and getting a bite to eat at a neighborhood restaurant. Now they were curled up together on the sofa, in Angela's favorite position to relax and watch TV. He had one hand inside her sleep shirt, where he gently stroked her warm breasts. And his other hand lay in between her legs, so he could gently stroke her wet pussy lips. Her hand, as usual, was nestled inside his sweat pants, cradling his cock and balls almost protectively. It was one of their favorite pre-fucking rituals, and as was the custom, he'd taken a little blue pill to ensure that he stayed hard all night long. He'd even decided in what order he'd fuck all her holes, but not where he'd leave his first cum shot. That always depended on where she begged for it the most.

He pressed his fingers just a little deeper into her pussy, almost but not quite entering her vagina. "Ange," he whispered, his breath soft on her neck, "something happened at poker last night that I have to tell you about."

"Oh, did Melissa finally give you that blowjob you've been dreaming about?" she asked brightly, squeezing his cock tightly.

"No," he laughed softly, "she wants to wait until you can both suck me," he lied. "To finally see who gives a better blowjob."

She licked her lips lasciviously. "Tell the bitch to bring it on. As long as I get to keep the cum."

He pressed his finger deeper into her cunt, imagining the heaven of having two women sucking his cock, each trying to outdo the other. He was tempted then to leave his news for another day, and get on with the hardcore fucking he longed to give the wiggling, sexed up woman in his arms. But, he didn't want to forget and have that come back and haunt him.

"No, my little minx. It wasn't about blowjobs. But it was about sex." He told her the story then, about what he said, or at least what he could remember, and how ashamed he was that he'd told a bunch of relative strangers their bedroom secrets.

Her eyes turned grave and her expression serious as she turned to face him. He braced for the worst, but was surprised by her words, "You know, I'd take them all in the ass, if that's what you wanted. Dear, I know that you don't like anal as much as I do. And that usually you're just doing it to help me keep my condition in check. And I love you for that. But if you wanted to give me to them, I'd do it in a heartbeat. With your permission, of course."

"You don't, you don't have to say that," Tom stammered, taken aback by the seriousness of her offer. "I like what we..."

"No," she interrupted him, "you don't always like it. I've known you for seven years and been married to you for five of them. You like to fuck. But you're a tit man and not an ass man. I've known that from the beginning. So if you want to give me to some other men to satisfy my perverted needs, I'll love you for it." She squeezed his cock hard. "And if you want me to, I'll suck him first." She squeezed again, her fingers pressing around his sac. "And I'll take him in my cunt, so he can get nice and juiced up," she purred. "And then I'll bend over and he can ream my ass with his hard slippery cock, and coat the walls with his cum, and I'll do it all for him because you say it's okay. And I'll take all your poker buddies in the ass, anytime of the day or night, however they want it. That would be sooooo hot!"

With that, she rolled off the sofa, pulled off his sweats and wrapped her lips and tongue around his throbbing cock. While she sucked vigorously at him, his mind swam with images of various guys fucking her in the ass, right in this house, right in this room. And the cum spewing across her face and down her throat and dripping onto her tits. He gasped, brought back to the present, when his wife pushed his legs higher in the air and she put her tongue against his own anus.

"What would my lord and master like me to do next?" she asked seductively, rubbing the tip of her breast along his anus and up against his cock.

The lord and master game. That was one of his favorites. He spied the dining room table in the other room and all of his previous plans went up in smoke. Bending her over, fucking her holes, slamming into her violently, that was looking very good right now. And maybe he'd leave the lights on so the neighbors could see their silhouettes as he raped his wife in the ass.

* * *

The next poker game was worse than the last, as the guys all had two weeks to save up some jokes and ribbing. Jokes about one in the pink and two in the stink flew around the table, and Mark even found time in his busy day to have two special cupcakes made: one that looked like a woman's ass and one with a licorice stick cock. When he pushed one into the other, the whole table erupted in raucous laughter.

Tom took it all until he could take no more. "All right, funny boy," he snarled at Mark, when the room finally calmed down a bit. "It's time for you to put up or shut up. I told Angela about your little offer, and she thinks it's a good idea. So whatcha gonna do about it now, funny boy?" he challenged.

"You... you told Ange about it?" Mark stuttered as the room grew suddenly quiet. "But what happens in this room..."

"Stays in this room," Tom finished for him. "Yeah, I know the rules. But I've been married long enough to know not to leave my wife hanging out in the wind. All it would take is one wrong remark from you bozos and Ange would be getting all kinds of weird phone calls with no idea what was going on." He paused to stare down each of them in order. "Besides, she thinks it's a good idea. So, is anyone ready to man up and take her up on her offer?"

The silence continued. "Yeah, that's what I thought," Tom said, turning his attention back to the cards in his hand. There were no more jokes that night.

* * *

The cock continued to press insistently against his wife's tight anal ring. Iron hard rod versus small ring of tight muscle? Tom didn't need to be a scientist to know what would win. He steadied the camera and got ready to record the ultimate penetration. He didn't have to wait long, as the man leaned his weight down, forcefully pressing his cock into Angela's ass. She had reached back to spread open her ass cheeks, and Tom got an exquisite shot of the mushroom head disappearing into his wife's barely lubed anus.

Angela moaned, deep and low in her throat, then pressed her ass upwards, as if to give the man an even better target for his lance. So encouraged, the man slowly pushed his cock deep into her channel, her asshole tightly constricting every inch of him as he passed inside her. Finally his balls smacked tight against her ass, the whole eight-inch length of him buried inside her. Tom wondered whether the man could feel any walls with the tip of his cock, the way Tom could when he fisted his wife. Probably not, he decided. Her bowels were not built to the same specifications as her vagina.

Tom knew what would happen next before it even began. Sure enough, the man pulled all the way up and out of his wife's ass, making her gasp, before placing his cock back into position to slowly penetrate her anus again. He'd do that 10 or 20 more times, apparently getting as much pleasure from conquering her ass over and over as he did from actually fucking it. This time he pulled out after each of 11 strokes, before burying himself inside her and beginning to fuck her with real intent.

This is what Tom had been waiting to see. Not only did he like to see another man's cock pistoning in and out of his wife's ass, but he also liked to watch what the violent attention did to the rest of her body. The way her entire being instinctively tensed against the unnatural invasion. The moans, mewling and gasps she cried out as the man's repeated penetration pushed her to greater levels of pleasure. And the mesmerizing flopping and flapping of her big tits, as the action at the rear of her vibrated through her core to be seen in the erotic motions of her breasts, dangling, shuddering, slapping and bouncing.

Tom turned his attention back to the dick that was now rapidly fucking his wife's ass. She was loose enough now that her anus no longer caught on the cock ridges as it slid in and out of her. If he pulled out now, she'd be gaping open. But this particular man wasn't turned on by looking into a wide open asshole. He was much more concerned with simply fucking the living daylights out of her.

When he fucked her in the ass, Tom only rarely used the doggy position. He preferred to put her face up on the sofa, her legs cocked up and out of the way, so he could have free access to both her fuck holes. He liked how her anus stayed tighter for longer, and how easy it was to dip his dick into her cunt whenever he needed some extra lubrication. If the man ever felt the inclination to change holes right now, Tom knew that he'd find his wife's pussy to be flooded with molten hot pussy juice. Hot enough to tempt even the most dedicated ass man to spend some time banging her cunt.

But rather than trying to make it last, the man turned his jackhammer onto high, pounding at her ass with a evil ferocity that threatened to push her straight over. Then, suddenly, when it seemed inevitable that her bowels would be coated with a thick stream of scorching cum, the man pulled out, his cock sparkling in the light. Quickly, without waiting for the order, his wife spun around on her knees and faced the man, his cock just inches from her face.

"Kiss my balls, you fucking cunt slut bitch!" he commanded, his voice growling with menace.

Quickly she leaned forward to comply, kissing his ball sac with the same heady passion she'd kissed her husband only hours before. "Harder! Faster! Lick it! Suck it! Cunt! Whore! Slit! Ass whore!" The orders and insults rained down on her, each one seemingly fueling her motivation to perform better, faster and more passionately. Ferociously she sucked and licked his throbbing cock, coating it with her dripping saliva. She held her breath as he grabbed the back of her head and forced her to deep throat him, spit dripping onto her tits when he finally pulled out. Again and again he crammed his cock into her throat, sometimes pinching her nose shut so she couldn't breath, only releasing her head when she gargled her frantic pleas against the shaft of his cock.

"If you want this cock in your ass again, you know what to do!" he snarled at her as she knelt quivering and sniffling before him. Without even a single glance at Tom, she dropped her torso to the floor and began desperately kissing and licking and worshipping the man's feet, her husband just inches away and completely forgotten.

* * *

Tom was preparing to cut the grass when Mark appeared, his ancient Yorkie dog trailing disconsolately behind him. Tom knew something was up, because Mark lived several streets away and to Tom's knowledge, had never, ever walked the dog this far before. Heck, the thing was on its last legs and could barely walk around its backyard.

They talked for a few minutes about sports and the local high school teams before Mark got to the point. "Is Angela around?"

bbonz1
bbonz1
553 Followers
12