tagGroup SexThree Tales: Wifey, Girl And Hubby

Three Tales: Wifey, Girl And Hubby

byNonStopFunGuy©

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PART ONE -- WIFEY'S TALE

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You know a girl is over-the-top sexy when even a married woman like me creams my panties just from laying eyes on her.

I knew she was in college, or going to college this fall, but she definitely looked barely old enough for that -- so right away I figured she had to be 18. Her face was pretty enough. She had long, curly strawberry-blonde hair, almost amber in some light; her skin was a luxurious tanned bronze, now deep in the summer. She had bright, round green eyes, thick lips, and high cheek bones -- her heritage was something mixed up, that was for sure, and the resulting concoction was deliciously pretty. But where merely facially pretty, her body was "entirely all dope," as my husband would say (sorry, I have no idea what that means, but it's about the highest complement, apparently). Her was smallish, but still a bit fleshy, on a normal female's body is might look like a little ass but, below her extremely thin, skinny waistline, it sort of stuck out a little. Similarly, while her torso was narrow, she sported well-grown C or D cup boobs, giving her medium-height body an hourglass shape even if she wasn't over 110 pounds. Wearing tight shorts and an even tighter t-shirt, the girl was putting her shape on display for everyone in the neighborhood.

I'd hard that our neighborhood had some new hottie who just moved onto the block with her family this summer. Other moms on the street spoke disdainfully about her; whomever she was, some new girl was making men and boys get stiff necks, as they watched her jog around the area in the morning, or tan in her yard visible to all passing cars. I hadn't seen her yet, and I was curious to see what the fuss was about.

Well, hot dang, she was worth the fuss. I hadn't fucked another girl since just after college -- it's been a decade, my Lord, I'm getting old -- but even I had fantasies about this girl, pretty much as soon as I saw her.

After staring at her body from a distance for a few seconds, I glanced at my husband next to me. We were strolling up to the gathered crowd, where the late afternoon block party was just underway. Paul's eyes were, as I expected, targeted directly at the body of this strawberry-blonde fox. Oh, his eyes stray constantly; I don't mind, they fixate on my firm body plenty too. But even if I was the jealous type, and I'm not, I couldn't have been mad at him. The view of this teenage creature was intoxicating, he couldn't help himself -- Paul is all man, after all, and what do men crave more than the sight of hot tits and tanned legs like this beautiful creature.

Squeezing his hand, I actually giggle at him, as he suddenly realized I was watching him watch the girl. He ripped his eyes away from her, as if there was nothing to see there. "Oh I caught ya," I sneered at him, but gave his hand a hard squeeze so he knew I wasn't upset. "What're y'all lookin' at, sugah -- see som'thin' ya like?"

Yes, I'm proudly Southern, even more so after living for the past few years in this eastern part of Pennsylvania. It's pretty enough out here, but it's not the skies of Alabama or the sweetness of Georgia. Paul, he grew up around these parts, so he didn't appreciate how much better it can get. Anyways -- I shouldn't get started on all that.

Paul blushed, not liking it when I caught him checking out another female. He pretended not to know what I was talking about, and he pulled me by the hand to go talk with an older couple we'd known for a few years. Our backs were turned to the hottie; he could forget she was here.

Paul apparently didn't want his wife -- that would be me -- to get upset at him checking out the big boobs and small waist on the hot 18 year old girl, so he always seemed to have his back to her. I swear, over the next couple of hours, if I picked out where the girl was, Paul was somewhere entirely different, with his back to her.

But I guess I don't have any shame, and curiosity got the best of me. After I don't know how long, I found myself standing near her, talking in different circles. The teen beauty was talking to two of the married men on the block; they seemed friendly with her, not leering, but I could only imagine the thoughts going through their heads. Their little conversation evaporated soon enough, and the girl was suddenly there by herself. Like I said, I couldn't help myself. I excused myself from my conversation with a neighbor, and caught the girl's attention. Just wanted to say hi, I said to her.

Kelli was her name, "with an 'I.'" You know, she looked like a Kelli? A name like Kelly or Kelli should be reserved for pretty blondes with ample boobs, and this girl was exactly that. Maybe she had a different name when she was born; at some point, when her parents realized what she'd turn out to be, they must have changed her name to Kelli, because it fit her perfectly.

And guess what else -- well, Kelli was extremely charming. It's almost not fair, you know, being gorgeous and sexy, while also being down-to-Earth, approachable, and super-friendly. That's how I took her to be, anyway. She sure liked to talk; I mean, once I got her started, she didn't stop. But it's not an annoying trait on her; she is witty and sensitive, and she keeps a conversation moving by constantly changing what she's talking about. Some might call it lack of focus. Then, after having 90% of the conversation, she apologized and said something like, there I go again, talking away, and she started asking about me. I steered the conversation back to her. Kelli was indeed 18, going to be a freshman at Tech State a few hours away. She had a boyfriend in high school, but that was a town a couple states away; so far, she'd met "friendly" boys, but didn't have an actual boyfriend for the summer. Nor did she want one, heading off to college soon. "But I get plenty of attention," she told me, and she wasn't bragging, just being honest. I wasn't surprised at all.

Walking away from the party an hour later with my husband, I found myself giggling about my encounter with the girl. I actually lorded it over him, a little bit. Hey, I met the new girl -- daughter of that new family -- she's going to college, she's gorgeous, she's popular, and she's sweet as a peach. Paul shrugged off the news, acting like it didn't matter to him. And it didn't, really; why would his life change at all, based on this gorgeous female who was only going to be in our neighborhood for another month? Still, I sensed some vague interest in his part, as I was describing my conversation with the girl. He didn't act interested; but he didn't stop me, either.

Literally walking home with him, sweaty hand in sweaty hand in the early-evening humidity, a powerful fantasy popped into my brain. I fantasize a lot, sexually; I've been known to read a few Literotica stories when I'm alone, and even to have playful cybersex with men online. It's like a game, it doesn't mean anything. Maybe it's cheating, I don't know; it fills a void, sometimes, you know, on nights he's working late, or at an out-of-town job site. Anyway, walking home with my handsome stud husband, a very sexy image came to me. Paul, naked, his hairy chest and muscular shoulders and arms, glistening in sweat; and laying under him, spread-legged, the naked figure of Kelli the sexy teenager. His fat, almost-eight-inch cock drilling into her tight teen pussy, giving her a real fucking like no teen boy could. He'd be so hard, fucking a girl like that; and she'd never had a fuck like he could give her. I should know, when I get Paul all worked up using my lingerie or a sex movie or something, he fucks relentlessly, like a machine. He doesn't hardly talk to me during sex, he just goes about his business drilling my pussy for over an hour. There's nothing like a multi-orgasmic man, ladies!

I have always thought our sex was great, but I probably had to admit, it was getting a bit stale. We'd been married six years, and only been with each other -- as far as I knew -- and, while we did it in different rooms or with me wearing differing clothing or outfits, it was sort of always the same. Reading stuff online and chatting to men, I guess I'd been fantasizing about threesomes -- either Paul and another hot man sharing me (and that would NEVER happen, knowing Paul), or me helping some other horny female fuck him. Like I said, I'd been with girls before; it wasn't out of the question. But Paul and I had never shared a girl before, nor even really talked about it. So it wasn't like a plan to hook up with the girl; it was just a hot image. Paul, a sexy beast of a man, and a divinely beautiful young woman. The sex would be outrageously hot, or at least, so it was in my fantasy.

And it proved to be a pretty powerful fantasy. It crossed my mind, later that evening, as I was in the shower to cool off for bed. With the warm water running down my petite body, and my long brunette hair rinsing in the stream, my fingers slipped downwards, towards my shaved vagina. My clit tingled a little, wanting attention. Paul was in the TV room downstairs, I was expecting that instead of dressing, I'd just put on a robe and go down and seduce him, and get some of that delicious cock. But instead, I froze in the warm water. My brain started picturing hot Kelli, in that tight t-shirt hugging her ample boobs; and also those pink shorts, clinging to her soft buttcheeks. What might she look like naked? Mmm, perhaps a trimmed bush -- not shaved, but nicely kept. Tight, pink lips. Fresh, tasty teenage pussy. She'd make Paul so hard. And, honestly, she'd make me hot too. I had been so long since I licked another cunt; I'd definitely lick that girl's, if I was to lick another.

Thinking about Kelli had me aching for attention, and my fingers began grinding into my clitoris while my brain thought of all sorts of nasty things about the teenager blonde. Paul's cock in her; my tongue in her; her tits in my mouth while Paul buried his fat boner in her tight ass. Tying her up and using her, the two of us, all weekend. Nasty things! I was so aroused, it didn't take long to give myself a body-wrenching orgasm, as I stood in that shower. I felt guilty, having an orgasm while my husband was still at home; but I couldn't help myself. Nature just takes over, you know.

Paul didn't get to fuck my 31-year-old pussy right after my shower. But maybe two hours later, we were in bed, and he was moving on top of my naked body. I'd been constantly horny all night, wearing see-through, black lingerie to bed -- knowing it wouldn't last. Paul was already rock hard as he crawled into bed with me, and instantly we started making out. Indeed the lingerie flew off of me, as did his underwear, and not even two minutes after shutting off the lights, he was about to jam that huge, sexy dick into my cunt.

Having been horny all evening, I was playful - and, when I get playful, I get to tormenting. Normally, that would mean, I'd tease him and deny him sex until he was almost unable to control himself -- I like him wild that way -- but this particular evening, the torment was through mental imagery. "Mmm, baby, what's got y'all so hard tonight, hmm?" My voice pitched up innocently, like I had no clue. "What has my sexy man's big dick all thick 'n hard -- y'all got som'thin' on yer mind, that's got y'all turned on like a concrete pole?" My hands were around his neck, feeling his tall, manly body moving above me, while I spread open my knees to give him full access to his wife's wet, juicy slit. The fat, bulbous head of his enormous dick kissed my cuntlips, and I squirmed, wanting it inside me so badly. But I undulated my hips, moving my cunt away from his dick, giving him a challenge before I let him fuck me. He wasn't answering my questions, so I persisted. "Baby, dahlin', look how hard 'n hot y'all're -- what's got you so fuckin' big for me?"

Paul shrugged in the darkness, kissing the nape of my thin neck, smelling my sweet cumfuckme perfume. He muttered something sweet, like "my wife's ass," or some bullshit like that. I didn't buy it.

"Mmm, is that it?" I pretended to sound innocent. But then I cackled. "Or -- was it the sight of those big teen tits, on that hot girl Kelli today?" Just mentioning her name, I felt him pause; the rhythm of his movements seemed to stop, for a second. See, I was reading his mind! But immediately I assured him not to worry. "Oh, it's alright, baby -- even I saw, she was fuckin' hot -- every man there wanted to git her alone, 'n rip her clothin' off, 'n treat her to some manly lovin'!" I moved a hand down to my husband's meaty ass, while my other hand reached between our sweaty bodies. Clasping my thin fingers around his throbbing boner, I rubbed the head of his wonderful erection against my achingly wet clitoris. "Mmm, it's ok hun -- nothin' wrong with lookin' 'n fantasizin' about sexy girls -- admit it, you were fantasizin' about fuckin' her?"

He laughed, as if I was being ridiculous. He might have even tried to deny it. But it didn't matter; I was hot for his sex. His dick began to penetrate me, spreading open my tight cuntlips, and my entire body began squirming in affirmation. Panting, and thrusting against his movements, I rammed my pelvis upwards while his penis started drilling into his wife's cunthole. I might have been shrieking; in fact, I probably was, I was so turned on.

And the fantasy in my head wouldn't go away. As Paul built up a rhythm, fucking me with long, deep strokes, I ran my slim fingers through the thick, sweaty hair on his chest. "Baby, I have to tell you," I almost cried to him in the darkness, "that girl got me wet too -- I haven't fantasized about another girl 'n ages -- she was pretty and sweet and had those fuckin' gorgeous boobs and hot li'l butt -- I'm all wet picturing you fuckin' her -- she makes your cock hard, don't she?"

Paul laughed, telling me to shut the fuck up, and he planted his mouth on mine, so my mouth filled with his tongue and not my words. But his body was talking to me, he was on fire, slamming furiously into me repeatedly. I arched my back, sucking his tongue, and my body exploded with a huge cum. Relentlessly he continued fucking me through my orgasm, until I had a second and a third; then, finally, he began cumming too, filling my protected womb with his seed. That's when I knew just how horny he was; he remained hard, and without missing a beat, he continued ramfucking me savagely, as if he never orgasmed himself, until both of us screamed to simultaneous orgasms again a few minutes later.

Kissing and sucking air, we collapsed together in the now-sweaty bed sheets, laughing at the animal sex. He kept saying "wow," because rare was it that he'd cum twice in one non-stop fucking. It proved my point to me. As we caught our breaths, I patted him on the head, derisively. "See, baby -- I know y'all, you got all hard cuz of that hot li'l bitch you saw today -- you were checkin' her out, weren't ya?"

Now, the truth set in. In a husky voice, he just muttered his response. "Everyone was -- even you, apparently, you li'l lesbo slut."

Lesbo slut -- his endearing reference to some of my sexual adventures before we'd gotten engaged. He used the term derogatively, and if you didn't know better, you'd think he was insulting me. But he's a man, I know he'd jump at the chance to fuck two women at once, if he wasn't married to me. So it always made me laugh when he said that, I didn't take it as an insult. In fact, in this particular context, it was dead-on correct. "Mmm, what's not to look at, baby -- she was f-i-n-e FINE!" My hand reached between our bodies again, and I clasped my palm and fingers around his semi-erect, sloppy-wet penis. "It's ok if y'all look at girls -- she was hot to look at -- her hot bod git your dick all hard, 'n make y'all wanna fuck her?"

"I never would," he promised me, kissing my forehead, while his penis throbbed in my small hand.

I nodded, knowing his commitment to me. "Oh, I know that," I softly exhaled, enjoying the feeling of that big dick in my hand, trying to make him hard again. "But, still -- I think it's sexy, her hot, young body gettin' my man's cock all worked up 'n all!" Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought his cock twitched a bit; he's just cummed in me twice, and yet I thought he might have a third orgasm just waiting for me. "What do y'all think 'bout that, baby -- hmm -- does my sexy hubby get HARD, thinkin' 'bout stickin' that big tool of yours in her teen cunny? Treatin' her t' a real man's big dick, not some teen boy-cock?"

Wow, Paul was getting hard again. I rolled him onto his back, and threw my leg over him. He's almost 80 pounds heavier than me, and nearly a foot taller, so I look very petite when I'm perched on him. Shit, his cock looks half as thick as my skinny hips. Sitting upright, I undulated my hips to slide my wet lips back and forth on his aching erection, feeling the length of that pole. It made me cackle, feeling how fast he got so hard. "Mmm, my oh my -- seems mah baby IS all hard fer that young thang -- bet you wish she was here now, hmm, riding your big dick with her sexy bod, those big boobs?" He denied that was his preference, as I pulled his hands up to my b-cup breasts. I leaned upright, letting him fondle my bosom, while my cunt pulled forward until the head of his dick was at my entrance. Preparing to fuck him again, I wailed in unbridled arousal: "Wanna pretend I'm her, baby -- imagine her big tits in your hands -- her teen cunt fuckin' your fat cock?"

We'd never done this before. It was totally hot -- me playing some other woman.

It caught Paul by total surprise; he wasn't saying anything, he was just underneath me, moving his hips up and down, ramming that cock into my cunt as I began riding him. I sat upright, arching my petite back, letting my husband play with my perky breasts and stiff nipples. I kept the seduction going, telling him my tits were teenage and fat, and teen boys felt them up all the time, and I loved having teen cocks in me but I needed a big, man-size cock -- a fat married one -- to really screw me hard. Paul's cock responded by filling me as deep as he could, my body was smacking onto his noisily as our two bodies crashed together.

Paul muttered that he loved me, and softly spoke my name -- Amy -- but I intercepted reality and substituted my sexual fantasy in its place. "No, Paul -- Mr. Paul -- say it, call me Kelli -- I love fucking your big married cock, Mr. Paul -- tell me you love fuckin' my sexy body, tell me how hot I am -- call me Kelli!"

Nine hundred ninety nine million, nine hundred ninety nine thousand, nine hundred ninty-nine times out of one billion, Paul would have declined. But in the midst of this brutally animal sex we were having, he gave into the fantasy.

"You're so fuckin' gorgeous, Kelli!" roared my sexy husband, pounding his cock into my twat but imagining something else very different, "your teen ass and tits are so fine -- I'm so glad my wife let me fuck you -- you're such a hot fuck, Kelli!"

Ok, the thought of my sexy husband fantasizing about that girl, while fucking me? TURNED ME ON. I can't tell you in words just how horny I was. Suddenly, completely unexpectedly, I had an orgasm. I was screaming, shrieking; my hands were clutching his hands to my tits, so his palms rubbed my aching nipples, and my pussy pounded onto his thick erection as he shoved it so deep inside me. "Fuck me Mr. Paul, fuck my tight teen cunt!"

His snarled, it was a delicious noise. He was so into the fantasy now. "You fuckin' bitch -- making a married man so hard -- Kelli, I'm going to fuck you harder than I've ever fucked my wife!"

This was how excited I'd made him. When he fucked me, normally he NEVER said anything verbally -- he'd kiss me, or suck my neck or tits or something. But talking nasty was not part of our lovemaking. I always thought, he was squeamish about using dirty words, or something, at least during sex. But when I was playing as teenager Kelli? Suddenly he was a new man -- talking to me like I was a rented whore! And -- it was like men online during cybersex, it was turning me on too!

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