Sharing Z

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Z becomes a shared wife for the first time
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Z and I had been married for about three years and had sort of stumbled onto the fact that talking about having other men fuck her while we were making love was a big turn-on for both of us. She had done some flashing for strangers at my request from our very first date, and a little more than flashing on a few occasions – letting someone we didn't know touch her tits, even allowing them to put their fingers inside her vagina once. And then we found out it was fun to have her flirt with people we knew, brushing her tits against them, letting them see down her blouse or up her dress, even letting them know, by a look, that we knew they had seen her do it, so that they would know she was doing it on purpose.

We always had great sessions in bed after we had been out with other couples where there was a little friendly flirting going on – it clearly aroused Z to be the center of attention. And she usually was. At 5’6”, 132 pounds and a perfect figure – 36B-25-36 – and with those exotic brown eyes and sassy short brown hair, I was used to having all eyes on her as we walked into a room – and so was she.

Her flirting was always the playful kind of thing you do among friends, not too obviously serious, but real. I had daydreamed about watching her with another man and found it oddly exciting, so one night while I was fucking her I teased her about a relatively new acquaintance, Tom, who was a contractor doing some work on an extensive renovation of an old Victorian we had bought. He obviously liked her – lusted after her, really – and had been coming on to her a little more than usual, and she was flirting back.

She surprised me by saying out loud what I was thinking. "I know. I think he’d like to fuck me." My cock jumped.

I found it instantly hot to think about Tom’s hands on her tits, of him fucking my wife. Z seemed to have liked my mentioning Tom, too, because I could feel her cunt growing wetter as I glided in and out of her. So I followed up by asking, "Did he say that? Would you want to let him fuck you?"

She wiggled off the hook with, "Well, he really wants to. It’s flattering." She hadn’t said she wanted to, but she hadn't denied that she did either, and I found myself very aroused by that, my cock stiffening even more.

I was surprised at my own reaction, but I was also nearly ready to explode with the thought of her opening up her legs for Tom. I could feel myself getting ready to cum in her, so I pressed on, asking, "Well, would you want to do it or not?"

"Would you want me to?" She was lifting her hips to meet my thrusts, and she was suddenly even slipperier, obviously liking the fantasy.

I decided to go for it. "Yes, I'd like you to fuck him. Would you do it?"

"I want to," she gasped, and as she said it I felt her muscles contract in a spasm as she came as hard as she ever had. I was about three strokes behind, pumping a huge load into her. As soon as we had caught our breath and I had rolled off and spooned her, she pulled the plug, "It was just a fantasy, you know."

"You came pretty hard for it, though." Z didn't say anything.

That was it for a couple of weeks, but I couldn't get it out of my mind. Every time we made love I thought of it but didn't want to bring it up because I didn't know what her reaction would be and didn't want to press her too far, too fast. I really knew now that I wanted to have her take another man inside her, and to watch it happen.

A couple of weeks later we were again out with our usual group, and I made sure to invite Tom, who was still working on our house. Having seen him look at Z as he went about his contracting duties, I was pretty sure he wanted her. At this outing, once again, Tom's attentions amounted to a little more than the usual casual flirting. But I noticed that Z was allowing a little more of it, being a little more explicit in her replies and responses, although still relaxed – not obvious enough to arouse much attention from the others, although I noticed the difference – a little more tension, a touch more acceptance, more nervous laughter.

About half way through the evening I caught her looking over at me and then glancing away right after she had been engaged with Tom, talking and laughing with him. She did it again a few minutes later, and this time I thought she looked a little flushed, like she does when she's ready for sex. A little later Tom asked her to dance – no big thing in this group – and they were gone for three numbers.

I caught glimpses of them on the floor, and noticed there was nothing out of the ordinary – nothing too obvious, but maybe his hands were on her waist a half a second too long and a couple of inches too high so that his wrists grazed the undersides of her breasts on some of the turns. I thought he might have brushed her bottom once or twice, too. No big deal; we were all friends. But when she got back to the table I saw the unmistakable signs of arousal: slightly reddened cheeks, flushed chest above the top of her blouse, more nervous laughter than usual, and a couple of furtive sidelong glances at me.

But that was it. Nothing more happened. We went home and got into bed. It was very late, later than usual, maybe 2:00 AM, before we turned out the light, and usually she fades after midnight, so I'm used to having her fall asleep without sex, even after being at a club, if we're out that long, so I just snuggled her. After a minute or two, she rolled on her back and sort of did a little jerk – a shake, a kind of silent pout. I asked her what was wrong and she said, "Aren't you interested in me tonight?"

“Of course,” I said, and immediately slid down and separated her legs to lick her opening, her favorite beginning. I was shocked at how wet she was, how good her cunt smelled with all her juices running, how slippery her vagina was as I put my fingers up inside her. She was even more into the licking than usual, and a little noisier about it. I suspected that her heightened state of arousal was due at least in part to the time dancing and flirting with Tom, of course, but instead of jealousy I found myself unbelievably aroused.

I slid up over her on the bed and positioned my cock at the opening of her vagina, rubbing her clitoris with the bulb. She moaned, tossed her head to the side and back, eyes closed, and pulled her legs back by putting her arms inside her knees and holding herself open, waiting to be impaled.

"You want it, don't you?" I asked as I rubbed the tip of my member on her gaping hole, which was so wet I could feel her juices running down her inner thighs making her slippery all the way to her small dark anus.

"Yes," she answered breathlessly as she tossed her head again side to side and humped up a little trying to invaginate herself. "Put it in."

"Not yet,” I insisted. I wanted her to ache for it – and I had an idea. She turned her head sharply again and exhaled hard, bucking her hips up a little as if to protest. I pulled back and she thrashed a little in frustration. I rubbed the entire underside of my shaft from tip to base up along her spread-open labia and along her clitoris.

"Oh, God!" she moaned. It was involuntary. She wanted it in – she was aching for it, more than I'd ever seen her, and I was ready for it too. But I also knew she was hot because of Tom as much as because I was about to slide inside her. And that made me both a little jealous and horribly aroused; it was a delicious and confusing mixture of emotions. Was she thinking of having her labia parted and her womb filled by Tom’s cock instead of mine?

"You want it in you?" I asked again.

"Yes. Put it in me," she answered, a little more insistently. I poised the tip of my cock right at her opening, which was gaping open and shimmering with her wetness, and she made a little moan and lifted her hips almost imperceptibly to take the stroke, but again I changed the angle so that instead of plunging it into her cunt I slid it up along her silky parted lips and over her pink button, which was engorged and protruding enough for me to feel it. She groaned, half in desire, half in frustration, and made a little involuntary shudder. She was ready.

"I'll put it in if you'll tell me one thing. But you have to be completely honest. OK?"

"OK! What’s the question?" Her question had been a bark; she was writhing under me now, over the edge, not just wanting it, but craving it from deep inside her belly, from the seat of her sex. She needed to be fucked, and she was way past impatient; she was desperate for the relief that could come only from having a cock sunder her open and drive into her steaming wet cavity.

"You have to answer without thinking about it, instantly,” I ordered. “If you hesitate for even a second to think about it we're done for the night and you don't get to cum." As if I could have done that – I was about to shoot my load as it was. But she was over the top by now, and I was pretty sure she would do whatever it took to get me to fill her cunt. She would answer anything I asked her to now, and truthfully, without worrying about the consequences, just to get my cock inside her. Or maybe any cock. "Tell the truth, no matter what I ask."

"Alright! What is it? Put it in me!" She sounded past desperate, and her body confirmed it – she was as writhing under me, shuddering with each touch, desperately hot, sopping wet between her legs, out of control, lifting her hips plaintively to be filled.

"Ready?" I poised the bulb of my cock over the entrance to her vagina again, holding it with my hand so she couldn't thrust her hips up and swallow it, but this time I let just part of the crown separate her labia and I rocked her a little by letting her feel the whole corolla start to penetrate before backing off. She was wild for it, thrashing, bucking, unable to control her shivering body.

"Yes! Fuck me! Please fuck me!"

"Ready for your question?"

"Yeees. What is it?" She drew out the 'Yes'; it wasn't an answer; it was a plea – she was aching for it now.

"Answer instantly?"

"Yeees."

"Do you want to be fucked now?"

"Yeees!"

"You want a cock in you?"

"Yeees!"

"You want Tom's cock in you?"

"Yeees!"

A jolt surged through me – I wasn't entirely sure she had heard and understood the question, but if she had I would have what I wanted. I put the tip of my penis against her vaginal opening and started to slide it in, but again tipped it up so the stroke was external, gliding again up through her sopping wet slit, letting it push her labia open gently until I felt the hard, wet bump of her clitoris at the base of my penis. She shivered and bucked and twisted in frustration and desire, trying to swallow the cock that would torment her until it rendered her open and took her womb. Was it Tom’s cock she so desperately wanted?

"You said you'd put it in!" Z whimpered, and she rolled her hips trying to catch the tip of my cock inside the folds of her labia so she could drive up on my shaft herself and end her misery by slamming it home in her belly. But I took my penis in my hand again to guard against her getting it in.

"You said you wanted to let Tom fuck you. Is that it? Do you want Tom to fuck you instead of me? Is that what you're thinking about? Is it Tom's cock you want inside you?"

"Yeees." She was breathless, beyond guile, beyond caring about the consequences, beyond the little fibs that married people tell each other.

"You want Tom to fuck you? You were thinking about him?

"Yeees. I can't help it." I could tell she was telling the truth. "I‘m sorry. I want his cock in me. I know he wants me and it drives me crazy. Please help me.” I knew she meant to help her by fucking her. But maybe she was asking for something more, too.

"I think he wants to fuck you, too. If you want to let him fuck you I’ll help you do it. Do you want to do it?"

She was bucking and shaking under me so hard now that my penis was jiggling her clitoris every time she moved her hips, and I was afraid she'd cum and I'd lose the hold I had over her, so I pulled back all the way and positioned the tip of my cock right at the opening of her vagina, and I matched her strokes to keep it out, pulling back every time she thrust up so that she couldn't encunt herself, and I held her wrists over her head so she couldn’t reach down and do it herself.

"I want you to fuck Tom – it’s great that you get this hot for it. Will you?"

"If you want me to." She had said it so easily. She seemed to have accepted that her secret was out. Her desire was so great that she was past caring about the consequences.

"I do want you to let him fuck you. You’ll do it, won’t you?"

"Yes, I'll do it." She was calmer, sensing her relief would soon come, but her body shivered involuntarily again, and her hips bucked signaling her still unmet need for a cock inside her.

"When?"

"Whenever you want me to,” she whispered, gasping now as she continued to grind her hips up in expectation, waiting for the searing fire in her cunt to be quenched.

And with that I put the crown of my penis at her sopping gate and gave her the whole shaft of my cock in one stroke, slamming it all the way to the bottom of her cunt, splitting the silken lips of her sex open and plunging into her gaping female maw. She rose up to take it with a tremulous moan, her desperate desire mixed with thankful relief. I pounded in and out of her cunt as hard as I ever had, and she reciprocated, slamming her cunt up to meet each stroke, splaying her legs open to give me maximum penetration, her soft, undulating whimpering telling me all I needed to know about her heightened state of arousal, the sticky wetness that sucked at my cock on each gliding thrust betraying her lust.

Still stroking in and out of her I continued, "You won’t have to wait long for it. I'm going to ask him to fuck you next weekend, and I'm going to watch you do it. You'll be a good slut and spread yourself wide open for him, won't you?"

"Yes!" She hadn’t hesitated this time.

"When I tell you to open yourself for him, you have to give him the whole thing instantly – look him in the eye and show him your wet pink hole – no being coy about it. Take his cock inside your cunt and let him fuck you. If you’re going to let Tom fuck you, do a good job. Be a good slut for him, and for me."

"I will." It was a hoarse whisper. She was bucking and thrusting, thrashing and tossing, lifting her hips as her juices spilled out and wet her thighs and belly and ass. I was riding in a slippery saddle, fucking my wife on the waves of her desperation to feel another man’s cock in her cunt.

"And you'll cum for him, won't you? A big one, so he knows you want it."

"Yeees!" And with that she heaved her hips up once more and exploded in a wrenching orgasm. In reply to her thrust, my cock unloaded inside her with the biggest stream I had ever spent, pulsing over and over as my semen shot into her womb.

When it was over, as I cuddled her, I whispered to her, "I'm going to do it, you know, make you fuck Tom. You want to and we both know it. And I want to see you do it. Are you going to do it when I tell you to?"

"If you want me to."

"I do."

"OK, I will, then. I promise." They were her last words as she fell asleep.

The next morning we said nothing about it, but that evening I broached it again, saying, "You ready for the thing with Tom on Saturday?

"Are you sure you really want this, Larson? It's a nice fantasy, but I'm not sure I would really like it. Or that you would." I found myself really disappointed in her answer, and frustrated, realizing now how much I wanted to see another man fuck her.

"OK," I replied. "We'll see then." I didn't want to press too hard because I didn't want to scare her off, but I really craved the kind of sexual passion she had displayed the previous night and I was determined to see it happen.

I mentioned it only a couple of other times during the week, once very casually while I was fucking her a day or so later, but I was a little worried about pressing it. What I noticed is that her cunt really got wet as soon as I started talking about her having to open her legs for Tom someday, and she came almost instantly when I did. I wondered if she was feeling my dick or thinking about his.

Finally Saturday arrived. We had made plans to go out again, and Z had made the arrangements. I was interested that she had chosen to go to dinner and a jazz club with a group we knew, and she had heard me when I had casually invited Tom on Wednesday, when I deliberately got home a little early so he would still be working at the house. Her choice of the place suggested that she was hoping something would happen – it was a kind of funky blues joint. At least that's what I hoped. And I knew I would try to find a way to get her to fuck Tom that night if I could. I just didn't know how.

On the way to dinner I introduced the topic again, testing her interest. "You were sure hot for it last Saturday while we were fucking, while we were talking about Tom."

"It was nice," was all she said. But that was an understatement; we had both had the biggest orgasms of our time together – of our lives – in that hot session after the night out with the group, after her dancing with Tom, after our fantasy about letting Tom fuck her. Maybe she was testing my resolve too.

She didn't look at me as the car moved through traffic, but just stared out the window. She shifted her legs, crossing her left over her right and tugging down on her skirt. She had dressed nicely, in a skirt and blouse, rather than in the blue jeans and shirt we usually wore to these get-togethers with the group. I had also noticed that she had put on a camisole instead of a bra, and it showed, since you could just see the outline of her nipples under the silk blouse, and her breasts jiggled just a little. She isn't very big – 34B – but she has nice tits and it was great to see them move under her blouse. And both the camisole and the blouse were a little loose at the top – if she leaned forward you could see all the way to her nipples, and I had seen as I had held the car door for her that they were erect, and not because of the temperature – it was warm out.

I had also seen her put on her garter belt and stockings instead of panty hose, something she did for me when we were going to have a hot night, and she had put on her loose-fitting red silk panties over her garter belt instead of wearing regular panties. She looked nice under her skirt. She was used to putting her panties on over her garter belt so she could take them off while we were out if I asked her to, to entertain me or to flash someone. She must be thinking her panties would come off tonight while we were out.

She had on heels too. She was a drop-dead knockout, dressed to the nines and cock bait for sure – not slutty, but definitely looking on the make. She wasn't acting like she was hot for me right now, though; she wasn't talking at all – she just looked determinedly out the window. I figured she must be thinking about Tom fucking her. Was she looking for me to make it happen, or hoping I wouldn’t?

"Tom will be there again tonight," I offered, trying to steer the conversation toward what I was hoping for. I wanted to know if she would do it, or else learn unambiguously that it wasn't going to happen tonight – either way I'd know how to act. No answer. But I could see her nipples were still hard. Was she a little flushed? I let it go.

When we got there the usual group had already arrived, and Tom was there. There were nine of them, and they waved us over to the two tables they had pulled together. Tom was the only single there. The band was just setting up as we sat down to order drinks and dinner. Tom was across the table from us, one person to Z's right. I was on Z's left. She said hello to him, but then started a conversation with the woman across from me.