If jealousy is not a measure of love, then why does she question my love for her when we're having sex?
"Do you love me.... when he fucks me?"
I can't answer her, not when she moans his name while we fuck. I just stare at her like she's a real doll. My wife's eyes roll to the back of her head as she slides back and forth on my pillow. Her breath is shallow and constant like a manic steam clock and I'm forced to count every second of her pleasure. She licks her lips with a whip of the tongue and looks at me with wallowing eyes. She holds me tightly with one hand and orders me to pull on her proud nipples.
This hard lump of flesh clamped between my finger and thumb is the only fulfilment I give my wife as another man fucks her sternly. I cannot watch men have intercourse with the woman I love. So I kneel by her side and divert my attention away from her fucker. My eyes explore her perfect bouncing breasts, her long supple legs and beautifully distorted face. I close my eyes and I imagine it is my cock that satisfies her, my pelvis that slaps against her firm ass and that it is my name I hear her chant over and over.... But she snaps me back to reality with a violent yank and looks at me as if she doesn't want me to miss a second of her glory.
She pushes me back onto the bed, slides off his impressive horn and bends over to give me head. She knows my penis like the back of her pill packet. Before I know it I'm hard.... But my cock has already been spat out, he's back at it fucking her deep from behind and my wife is drooling over my genitals. She doesn't even realise he's pounding her so hard that her head is ploughing my groin, like a cleaner trying to mop a pool of used engine oil on a polished floor. The pain from a skull grinding your testicles pales in comparison to the agony your heart yields when your wife tells you she's organised a threesome on the night of your wedding anniversary.
My wife climaxes, but before I can make eye contact with the pole driver and give him a high five and a slap on the ass, my wife spins around and squeezes my semi-erect penis up her anus. This is the last place I want to be, because what comes next is the most disturbing biphobic experience I must endure of all my wife's sexual rituals.
I'm on the bottom of the human sandwich smothered in my wife's hair. I'm nothing more than a human butt plug or an asshole shock absorber or perhaps a drip tray for body fluids at best. But that's not the worst of it. I can handle the euphoric screaming from my wife, the intertwined orgy of shaved and hairy legs and the mild symptoms of claustrophobia and asphyxiation. What I can't handle, what I despise most of all when I participate in D.P. with my wife, is the pleasure I get feeling another mans dick in my wife's pussy sliding back and forth against my rock hard cock.
It's a deadly sin and a pleasure that should never be shared between two heterosexual men. I want nothing more than to relieve one-third in this threesome, to negate the need for a third party participant, yet allow my wife the pleasure of double penetration with just little old me. This is the reason why I desire for the most absurd thing in the entire world, to be mutated with a freak show gift. I wish to have a Rhinoceros' head between my thighs and the honour to fulfil my wife with a pair of magnificent horns.
IN THE END
Written by A. Case 2013 ©