Wendy & the Ritz

Her hands were around my back and she was sliding them down, starting to cup my ass in her hands. She was swaying a little, and I realized she was trying to line us up so that our nipples were brushing against the other ones’. She found the spot, and I felt – through my nipples, hers, my hard ones making her nipples hard. That was so cool! I think I had sort of a “breast orgasm” as shots of fire rolled out from my tits across my chest, into my spine.

Although husband has never gotten queer with any of the guys I was doing in front of him, I could understand some of the cuck stories which go something like “I’m not gay, but I’m submissive to my wife’s lover…” kind of thing. I would never seek a lesbian relationship, but I could have SO done that girl right there, but only because of that scene. But in that scene, baby, I would have so done her, done anything he’d told me to.

Suddenly, she broke our embrace, backed up. I literally bit my lip so I wouldn’t moan because I didn’t want to look too dikey. Jesus – weird what you get worried about in moments like that. I would have dropped to my knees and done anything to her but I still didn’t want to look like a lesbian, as she backed away.

“That was hot!” she said, looking at me, all friendly like.

“Wendy,” said husband.

She quickly turned around. He was undressed now, except for his dress shit, which sort of looked ridiculous. “Oh yeah,” she said, sing songy, “Item three – show Arthur’s wife how to give a real blowjob.”

She gave a good blowjob. Of course she did.

A few dizzy minutes later (I am so wet now, just writing this down)…

Arthur’s left arm around my shoulder, me looking across at her. Him muttering. “Oh, Max, Wendy gives such good head. Christ, she is SO much BETTER than YOU.” I was down on my knees now, my face just inches from hers. His voice in my head “Wendy you make me feel so good, I am so glad my cock is in your mouth and not hers.”

And he turns to me briefly and says “I love you so much, I will stay with you forever, and it is so good to have my cock sucked by someone other than you.” My fingers are working just around my clit now, fast and slick – I know if I touch it, touch directly on it, I’ll just lose it – I have to wait, want to until that moment when he gets off….

She can tell he’s getting close and she pulls her mouth off his cock and runs her tongue – really slow – across his scrotum – and says – maybe just a little meaner this time looking right at me – “nice to meet you Arthur’s wife.” And with that she plunges back down on the shaft, maybe three quarters of the way…. and he is tensing up and then jerking back, emptying his cum into this young girl’s mouth – the same cum I’ve seen him lose so many times before on a motel floor while I watched a few feet away with some stranger’s cock inside my pussy, my mouth, my butt.

I pushed onto my clit hard, but the relief wasn’t instantaneous, I need something up there, something to squeeze against. I pushed and pushed eyes closed and then noticed he put something into my hand.

A hairbrush.

I grabbed it as he said "I want you to open your eyes and see this, see my cock still hard in her mouth, baby."

I opened my eyes, right next to it….that old familiar cock I thought I knew so well, still hard as nails, in her mouth. She was looking at me. She waved a little “hi there” at me with her hands.

With one hand the brush handle went up my totally drenched pussy and other on my clit and I came and came and came. Ecstasy. Humiliation. Perfect. Jacked off on the handle of a hairbrush while they looked at me, bemused. I came so hard my head hurt, my spine hurt. Fucking perfect treatment for the little sub wife, good wife, sub sub sub sub.

As I lay on the floor, silent, trying to catch my breath, little after shocks went through me. Smaller swells after the tidal wave. I heard her say, unrelentingly cheerful, “Arthur, that was so hot. I have got to get off.”

Part 3: The nasty parts

Even though I’d just had a head bursting orgasm (compliments of a finger on my clit and a brush handle stuck up my pussy…sounds like that joke about band camp) while looking at my husband’s come run out of the mouth of a nineteen year old girl, I was still totally cranked up. I could every nerve ending in my body still electrified, and that’s when Wendy the waitress said “Arthur, that was so hot. I have got to get off.”

He took her over to the bed and was kissing her now, slowly, but her pace was much faster, kissing all over his neck and mouth. The urgent fuck-me-right-now tempo. Watching this girl genuinely want my husband to fuck her….hot! And then with me sitting on the bed beside them he was on top of her, his cock fully recovered from the blowjob he’d gotten only minutes before.

“Look at these big fat white tits,” he said in a low voice, looking right at me, kneading her breasts. She was moaning now. “What is so cool is that I can look at your big fat tits right now but I am in fact playing with HER tits and not yours. Isn’t that so fucking cool, Max? You sitting here with me during the act, but Max I have no intent, whatsoever, of touching you tonight. And I don’t want you to touch me either. Your big present, your big fucking present is to be right here while I tell you how much I am enjoying fucking this young girl instead of you. Isn’t that a trip Max?”

I was so hot again, it was so perfect, what he said, with his cock brushing up against the pussy of another girl, a young girl that was having the time of her life with him, with my husband of fifteen years.

It’s funny how you can look at, suck, fuck, touch a cock for fifteen years and you see it when it’s small and big and sideways and all that, see him jack it off while you’ve done so many others – so familiar and so unthreatening – but when you see it slide into a TEENAGER’S pussy you just get a new and profound respect for it, and for the brain that drives it.

My husband is not at all a sissy type or an awkward lover. This was an older, seasoned grown up man (maybe the oldest she ever had?) fucking a younger inexperienced girl and he was doing her good. Going fast and then slowing down for those deep slow delicious strokes that almost bottom out. Stroking around her breasts lightly and then pinching, fairly hard, on her wide pink nipples…harder maybe than a young boy would dare. She was a low moaner, not a squealy one.

At one point she looked over at me dreamily and said “Arthur's wife, your husband ROCKS.”

I was just about fucking delirious. Some time during that long fuck (he was taking his time, totally in control of the fuck) the idea occurred to me that I wanted something up my ass. I knew it wouldn’t be him, but I was wanted to be filled up (two fingers on my pussy will not do it) and was feeling totally subbed.

Since we hadn’t planned any of this I had to improvise something. As I got up from the bed she turned to him and said, “Where is she going, is she freaking out or something?”

As I walked away I heard him say, ice in his voice, “Who gives a fuck.” Oh Lord I almost came right then. Sub wife. Good wife. Sub sub sub sub. I deserve this. This really is my big fucking present – to blow my fucking mind.

I went back into the sitting room and quickly concluded my earlier pal the hairbrush was going to have to do. (Note: the handle was perfectly round, not a weird shape). I know it sounds just stupid or twisted – but I just had to have something stiff up my ass (well, I can get off like that, not like a lot of girls). But it was more about just doing something really subby, just humiliating on purpose.

I got the brush and a little expensive (complimentary) bottle of lotion and went back to the bedroom, just in time to watch Wendy, back arching, on the verge of orgasm, bucking hard, my husband’s cock in her, and Arthur did that little trick of his, whenever I’m on the brink – he pulled his cock out more than half way, and then took her nipples and pinched them slowly, then harder, then harder until they were really tight, kind of an ecstatic pain, and then he released them and immediately hard thrust all the way in, bottoming out.

Yup – worked on Wendy too. She was making some really loud low breathy moans, bucking and squeezing onto him. Then that mother fucker – mean mother fucker – while she was working through the waves of her orgasm he was looking right at me, smiling. Cocky.

As if to say “You can fuck all the boys you want for the rest of your life, but your husband just gave it to this young girl better than you will ever get.”

As if to say “I can buy a room at the Ritz whenever I want and fuck a nineteen year old whenever I want.”

As - just maybe – as if to say “I love you and I want to give you the same rush all of your slut wife-ing has given me.”

I was back on the bed now, right next to her face, watching her expression as she continued her grind, tempo slowing now. She opened her eyes and looked up at me, startled to see my face so close. I know – from the look in her eye – it was completely improvised: she threw her arms around my neck and just kissed me, Arthur’s cock still hard as hell inside her. French kissed me, her mouth into mine for a minute or better, hot and wet and after a moment I was kissing her back, my tongue back into her mouth and then her hands were on my swollen breasts and hard hard nipples.

“So fucking hot,” she whispered, “this is just so fucking hot.”

Her fake nails were scraping my breasts and she would run her finger tips across my buttons and we were kissing still.

Husband, cock still inside her, pushed us apart. “I love the lez thing, but tonight this is all about you sitting aside.” So fucking humiliating, so frustrating. Somewhere up inside, I was aching, really hurting now, like a girl’s case of blue balls. Getting frantic to get off, and husband making sure the only way I would was as a voyeur. A fucking girl cuck. Sub wife. Sub sub sub sub.

I was on the other side of the bed again, and she was not coming but seemed perfectly happy with his cock up her. And I was almost physically panicked now, rubbing lotion on the brush handle, how pathetic. Getting the smooth black plastic good and greasy. My own eyes closed now, not seeing them, laying on my back legs hiked up and pushing and swirling the brush up inside, past the tight entrance, and up into my ass. Once I’d slid it up to the bristle part I started moving it slowly and put my other hand, two wet fingers, on my soaking clit. Pressed it once, slowly. Fucking heaven. So fucking wrong to have something up your ass instead of your pussy. So fucking wrong since I wasn’t even trying to please a man, was just doing it to be unfair to myself. Maxine you are so pathetic, I thought, with sheer fucking humiliated glee.

I opened my eyes and saw them now, he’d flipped her over, fucking her on all fours. She looked like such a happy girl. He was whispering to her, I didn’t her what he said. But I heard her in a louder voice say “yes….. okay…. but you have to go really slow…”

He whispered again, and she giggled and said to him “You guys are weird.” And then she turned to me and said, “Arthur’s wife, can you hand that bottle of lotion over here?”

He started talking to me now, in a friendly, daytime sort of voice, which made it more perverted.

“Max, I really like you jacking off with a hair brush in your ass. It’s really inspired me to fuck Wendy like that and she seems agreeable.”

“Go slow,” Wendy said.

I’d managed to scoot down beside them - not easy to do with something up your butt and your hands totally greasy from lotion and pussy and all that. I got right next to his cock and her ass. She was wincing a bit but not screaming or anything. No way she hadn’t done this before. He was going slowly and he was giving her all the right breathy encouragement…

“So sexy, Wendy, you feel sooooo tight…good girl…” She was relaxing a bit.

And he was giving me all the right encouragement too, looking at me saying things like “With an ass like Wendy’s, I don’t really know why I’d ever fuck you again – but I do love you very much and always want to be with you. Just maybe not ever fuck you again. But spend the rest of my life with you, fucking any girl but you.”

I was so totally fucked up by then, mentally. I was trying to time the push of the brush handle up inside me to the same cadence as he was doing to her and I have got to tell you there was no cock in the world that night that would have felt better than a hairbrush handle and my own fingers in me – but it’s precisely because a cock was right next to me that I felt that way.

He was starting to lose it now – his timing had picked up and she was okay with the anal part so in the same sort of improvised moment where she kissed me I reached under her and started massaging her clit (I had never done that before – really – I’m not a dyke!)) and she started moaning and getting into it. He was close, and I wanted her to come before he did (sub wife, good sub wife helping the hired help) and she was really bucking now, really fucking him back and rocking her clit on my fingers and she arched and started coming and that’s when he grabbed her hips really hard and just thrust in and I knew he was exploding, shooting up into her.

It was so cool to see his face – finally out of control – sweating, his cock balls deep up her young round ass. I kept rubbing her totally sopping clit and pussy while they rode it out, and when they slowed I threw myself back on the bed and really started squeezing against the fake cock in my ass and pushing down hard on my clit, and as I was just starting to hit the brink, the edge, I forced myself to open my eyes just in time to see him take a smear of his own cum and wipe it right across my face.

That’s when I exploded.

I don’t know if I was loud. Probably was.

I just came and came with his still warm sperm across my face that just did it. I think I might have started crying.

Then – with physical exhaustion and the alcohol taking it’s toll everything went to black and hard dreamless sleep.

It was 8:34 when I woke up in the Ritz Carlton. I could hear the cable on in the other room. He had put some coffee on the nightstand for me, luke warm now. I smelled awful and knew that I probably looked disgusting. I had a mild hangover, but was really calm the way girls get after they’ve had a really good fucking (except I didn’t get one). The shades were drawn and the room was cool and artificial and perfect.

I didn’t want anyone to see how I looked so I quickly took a hot hot shower and brushed my teeth. I recalled much (but not all) of the previous night’s adventures, and felt embarrassed and silly, but not bad. I hadn’t felt that way in a long time – like when you lose your virginity or wake up for the first night in college – like your world suddenly got bigger.

I opened the door to the sitting area and there was my husband, in front of the TV, working a crossword puzzle.

“Where’s Wendy?” I asked.

“Sent her home very early this morning, with some generous cab fare,” he said. “She wasn’t a real good conversationalist.”

“Last night was a trip,” I said.

“Are you mad at me?” he said, genuinely concerned now, said it with love.

“Arthur’s wife’s husband fucking ROCKS,” I said, kissing him, almost crying now but not sadly, kissing him madly, madly.