A New Look for Marriage Pt. 04

"Honey, arrre...you..arre you ok? I find myself with a shortness of breath, not just from Anan pleasant biting, but from my husband's trance-like state. He nods his head and attempts to speak but his mouth is too dry. The only thing I can gather from his mumble is that he likes what he sees. It gives me a wicked thrill to make bad girl eyes at him and watching his state become even more agitated. He places his thumb on the head of his cock and holds it there. A strange sensation passes over my entire being looking into my husband's eyes; it's telling me to be a really bad girl.

Returning my attention to the man sucking on my nipple. "I want to fuck...Anan...I want to fuck...please fuck me...fuck me...I want to get fucked." I kick my legs from side to side and tilt my hips lewdly. "I want to fuck...I want get to fucked." I stop squirming and look at my husband, his thumb still pressing on the head of his cock, "He's going to fuck me...honey, he's going to fuck me." A full spurt of semen escapes his cock in a heavy glob that seems to hang before falling on his stomach.

Needing no further prompting, Anan holds me down firmly and sends my panties to the foot of bed beyond my sight. His eyes narrow like a hunter about to pounce on his prey. I love this part, just before a new partner enters me, I love not knowing exactly what to expect; the anticipation is like fine red wine from silver cups. He kisses me again and places his cock at my entrance with a bit of pressure.

My lust-filled brain allows at least one last reasonable thought. "Anan, stop! You need to wear a condom!" Panting and out of breath I can see a bit of frustration cross his face and he nods. "Colin, can you get a condom? They're in the bag." I ask.

Anan waves his hand in a gesture of disagreement. "Those will cause a great amount of discomfort. My jacket pocket, you will bring them to me(?)" He looks at my husband in a statement which falls somewhere between a demand and a request. I sit up, leaning on my elbows and watch my husband retrieve the condoms from Anan's deep green sports jacket. The exchange hits me in a peculiar way. For the first time I recognize my husband as performing a truly submissive act. In our bed, I'm always the submissive one. He always assumes a position on top of me and I'm usually, almost always, the one giving the oral. I'm pleaser in bed and have never given him the chance to express this side of his sexuality.

I look at my husband warmly, motion for him to sit on the bed beside me and say, "You want to see?" His mouth is hanging wide open, he looks to Anan for approval which is given. He's very timid, not wanting to get too close, he stays at the edge of the bed. With the condom covering his manhood, Anan leans forward from his knees into my arms. We resume kisses and caresses until he is once again pushing on my entrance. Slowly he sinks in causing a bit of discomfort on his initial push. My nails dig into his smooth olive skin as a response. I place one hand lightly on his abdomen reminding him not to push to sharply; it proves unrequired, Anan is careful and considerate.

The first time with a new partner is all about getting to know each other. It's impossible to know what a guy is like without actually doing it. He tests the limits with delicate movements and I do my best to guide him through with response. Where he finds resistance, I let him know if it's ok to push deeper with pleasurable moans, if it isn't ok I tighten my lips and crinkle my face and he tries a different angle. Intuitive is this form of communication, his fluency in the art shows his experience.

My husband is sitting on the bed watching, he makes his presence apparent with a question. "Is it big Michelle?" This signals the invitation to engage in the dirty talk from which this was born. The only thing is that Anan had not been part of our dirty talk and I feel a bit self-conscious doing it while we get used to each other. My face contorted with lust, I look toward my husband with the intension of quieting it before it starts, but Anan stabs sharply causing me to groan in response. My husband's body contorts unnaturally as if it were him who took the rudely forced jab. His shoulders hunch strangely over his stomach, almost as if his spine is completely straight and bends severely at the top of his ribcage. My head titled to the side, our eyes lock once again and he repeats, "Honey, is he really big?"

All at once, a mystifying feeling fills my head, I feel it behind my eyes pulsating and it's telling me to make this about us; us being me and my husband. "Make this about us." Plays vividly in my mind with this burning, pulsing sensation. "Yeah, he's really big." I gasp to my own great relief.

"Can you take it all?"

"Yeah, I think so, but he's really big sweetie. Really fucking big."

"Do you like it?"

I start blurting out any half-formed thought that comes to my lust infused mind. "I'm getting fucked. Honey, he's fucking me really deep."

"You like it?"

"Uh-huh, I like getting fucked."

Far from being turned off, Anan is invigorated by our debased exchange. He starts pumping harder, but I'm not looking at him, I'm looking directly at my husband. His cock is stiff and red. His hands are looking for something to do in an effort not to touch it. He's in a great deal of agitation so I extend my hand for him to hold. This gesture has an immediate calming effect for both of us, with each thrust I squeeze his hand a little harder.

Still looking into his glassy, lovely ghostlike eyes, "You like him fucking me? You like this?" Reminiscent of a fountain, he shoots cum into the air while more flows down the side of his still hard cock. It runs down his pulsing veins in an exquisite cascade. My husband doesn't have the biggest cock, but it is very nice in its proportions, the head is nicely shaped and has no irregularities. His orgasm doesn't seem to faze him, he just keeps watching with the same baited breath.

"You're so pretty. I can't believe you're so pretty. Michelle, you're so pretty. I can't believe you're so pretty." My husband seems to be genuinely seeing me in a different light as he repeats these simplistically sincere compliments. He strokes my hair gently while Anan presses my legs back, gripping behind my knees, and fucks me deeply.

Anan removes his penis, flips me on my stomach and pulls me up roughly by my hip creases. He's manhandling me and dominating me in front of my husband who slouches in his posture until we can comfortably look at each other. "He's going to fuck me like a slut. Honey, he's going to fuck me like a slut."

As if he were waiting for the perfect moment, Anan grabs me by the hair and pulls sharply until my head can't move. He speaks for the first time. "That is how...a woman...like you...needs to be...fucked." He says it harshly with purpose. Asserting himself more prominently in this utterly atypical lovemaking he presses his cock slowly, deliberately and deeper in me than before.

"He's sooooo biggg...honey, he's so big inside of me." I gasp between low guttural groans which must sound unnatural to my husband's ears. Anan holds my hips with authority and pulls roughly attempting to push in even further.

"Is it hitting your...your...is he hitting your cervix? Is he hitting your cervix?" My husband spits out quickly through his dry mouth.

"He's presssing it...he's pressing...right, uhmmm, right into it. Oh my God, honey, he's pressed right into my cervix!"

"It feels good?"

"Umm, yeah, I like it. I'm sorry, I like it."

"It's ok, I like that you like it. What do you want?"

"I want him to fuck me hard. I want him to fuck me hard. I want to get fucked hard. He can fuck me hard with his big cock."

Anan doesn't relax his hold of my hips. His entire cock is still pressing into me as far as he can; I don't dare try to kick free. I know he hears me, but he doesn't do it. This isn't the sort of thing I've ever had to ask twice for.

"Is that what you want? For him to fuck you hard?"

"Yes, honey can you ask him? Please ask him to fuck me? Tell him to do it hard." I plead with my husband.

Taken over by a timid look Colin, for the first time, takes his gaze away from me to presumably look at Anan. I lower my head and listen to their exchange.

His tone is polite and nervous. "Anan, pppllease, I mean, Anan my wife would like to be, umm Anan she wants you, Anan, my wife wants you to fuck her harder."

Anan, very calmly responses, "You will have to ask me. Ask me for what you want." I can almost feel his cock pulse with power. He is getting an incredible kick out of this.

"Anan...Anan...I want you to...could you please do it...she wants...I mean, can you please fuck my wife hard? Please, I want you to fuck my wife hard."

He releases his vice like grip on my hips, allowing my knees to land fully on the mattress, and takes my hair into his hand again. He pulls back with control, careful not to hurt my neck, forcing my eyes to look up at my husband. "Look at your wife. Look at her." He says calmly to my husband. I must be quite the sight, my face flushed red, cum matted in my hair, saliva leaking from the corner of my mouth, my eyes vacant with lust and another man's hand treating me in an authoritarian manner.

My husband looks and me and then back to Anan and states clearly without a hint of shyness or embarrassment. "She looks beautiful. She is the most beautiful woman. Honey, Michelle, you look beautiful." No response given, Anan starts fucking hard and grunting loudly. The men continue to look at each other.

"I'm getting fucked so hard! Honey, he's fucking me so hard!" I cry in lovely agony.

"I know, I know, it's ok, it's ok." My husband places his hand on top of my spread fingers to sooth me.

"It's ok that he's fucking me? That he's fucking me like a whore?"

The tension in the room has reached levels I never thought possible. I'm getting fucked violently in front of my husband, the only noises are grunts of passion and receptive moans, squeals and cries. Men can get quite aggressive in bed and make the noises to match. Anan sounds angry, uneven and uncontrolled. My husband couldn't have been expecting such a raw primal display. Sweat drips from his flushed red frantic face. His eyes are clearly outlined as if by eyeliner. Although my noises can be misconstrued as something quite painful, they're a result of an extreme overload of pleasure. I don't make noise for the purpose of production, this is no act, he's provoking these deep bodied cries. In other words, he's fucking really well.

I don't get the impression that Anan is usually like this in bed. He's been infected by this lecherous couple he's involved himself with. His ego is growing in measure, and he's assuming a role. He's becoming the character that we have cast him in. He feeds off the lewd comments and lofty praise. We are lifting him to the top of the pedestal; he gains more confidence in his position by the moment. It's never been explicitly stated, at least not to my knowledge, he was never privy to our rules, so I don't know exactly what he knows about our fantasy. If it was ever in question, he's dominating me in such a way to demand that he is the only one getting pussy tonight. I love being treated in this way. It sets off primal urges buried deep by the expectation of conformity.

Putting my yoga practice to practical use, I tilt my hips in a cow stretch pose giving him a better angle for my g-spot. Taking the cue, Anan leans over my back to continue his assault with downward thrusts. His cock presses into my g-spot with its head and maintains friction with his shaft as he pumps up and down. My fingers spread wide, I try to grip the mattress and I close my eyes; I can feel a very big orgasm building. Anan presses straight down until he hits my spot, holds it there for a micro-second and then continues into my vagina. With each bump and delay it builds a bit more. His penis is very large, which means he never misses the mark and the pressure is maintained the entire time. If this continues much longer I'm going to cum in a way only this sort of sex can achieve.

"Oh fuck! I'm going to cum!" I open my eyes to my husband kneeling on the bed beside us masturbating vigorously, his face contorted with strain. Looking up at him I let out a pitiful cry, "Honey, he's making me cum."

Anan stops at the critical moment and growls, "Who fucks you better?"

The room is silent. We collectively hold our breath. "Please Anan! Don't stop! You can't stop!" I cry in desperation.

He doesn't care, he has no pity for me. "Woman, who fucks you better?" He speaks slowly, clearly and menacing.

Panicked on the verge of my orgasm, I just don't want him to stop. I do the only thing that will make him continue, I lower my head, close my eyes and blurt out. "You do!"

Not giving in he holds his penis steady at my spot. "Tell him! Tell him now!" He raises his voice as if commanding a child.

I lift my eyes to see my husband, stiff as a board in every way. He cock is the only thing moving as it twitches as if with his pulse. "Honey, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please, he fucks me better, he's fucking me better than you right now." Upon my admission, Anan drive in deep with so much force I can feel the sheets burn my kneecaps.

Changing from cow to cat my orgasm hits with intensity. Anan takes his entire cock out and finds my g-spot with his fingers. With expert dexterity and control, he coaxes me to ejaculate. This has only happened a few times to me in my entire life. Squirts mixed with sprays resembling rain soak the mattress beneath me. In synch with my discharges, Anan alternates the pressure of his fingers, making quite the mess.

Feeling exhausted and spent, I fall back on my heels and sit with no attempt at posture. My husband has also ejaculated, for the, truly impressive, fourth time tonight, making a mess of my back. Pings of joy reverberate through my turned to jelly bones. I turn to unfocused joyful laughter. My legs are slippery on my ankles causing them to slip to the side before I fall backwards on my back, rolling on the wet mattress.

"I've never seen that before." My husband is not laughing. His tone is serious and full of wonder.

"Your wife is spectacular my friend. Her body burns with desire." The friendly mirth has returned to Anan's voice. His cock is still hard and he pulls at the condom relieving himself of the rubber.

"I can't believe she came like that. Michelle, are you ok? Is she ok?"

"Of course she is, she has experienced pleasure in ways only woman can. Let her enjoy it my friend." My chest is heaving as I wait for the waves to pass through me.

"Can I taste it?" He asks Anan directly.

They shuffle around me on the bed, with Anan stepping off the foot of the bed, his cock shadowing my head. My husband eagerly joins me in the puddle. He licks my entire thigh from my knee to my pussy. At times he buries his head it the mattress, biting and sucking at the fabric. His tongue at my pussy, he licks slowly trying to taste everything. Anan is standing over me and masturbating his considerable cock. Looking up, directly underneath, it looks even bigger and more majestic. I feel so sexy. Goddess Venus could never have demanded so much lust while riding on her oyster shell. "I was made for sex. I was made to fuck." The slogan from my pep talk re-emerges in my mind and incoherently escapes my lips in the form of senseless babbling. He literally fucked me silly.

Anan's pace increases as he prepares for his orgasm. He doesn't ask, he simply holds my head firmly in place and releases a full white rope of cum across my face. His cock pulses and another rope lands on my lips and extends over my nose. He shoots three smaller spurts, which spray covering my face. He squeezes his cock to drip anything left on my forehead. I risk the burning feeling in my eyes to watch his orgasm with wide open eyes. His cock falls heavy between his legs, he flicks a bit more cum from his fingers on to my face and gives me a mocking smirk. My eyes burn as they roll in the top of my head following him as he walks to the bathroom. I'm a complete mess. Covered and swimming in cum, I feel deliciously debased. Used as a sex object. I love it.

"I need the towel, Colin, I need the towel."

Getting up from between my legs, he rushes to frantically search for the previously discarded towel. Propping myself up on my elbows, I can hear water running from the tap in the bathroom. The mattress is soaked and starting to get cold.

"Give it to me...Colin, did you find it?"

"Yeah, here, just close your eyes, I'll get it." I've never known my husband to be so careful, but he wipes my face gently with a great deal of care. "You ok honey? Just let me get this for you, ok? You look so pretty. Michelle, you look so pretty."

"Do I? I really do?"

"Yeah, you look so happy. And just so pretty?"

"Yeah, I feel really good; happy. You look good too." I'm not just saying that as a tit for tat, he really does look good. Hard to explain, but he looks so caring and emotive. His entire body appears flushed and without shame.

"You want to get in bed? You look tired, want to get into the dry bed?"

"I think I need to clean up still. Want to take a shower with me?"

Anan comes out of the washroom with a towel around his shoulders as his only article of clothing. His cock is actually quite large even when soft. He's one of those guys who just looks really good naked and he knows it.

"Anan, we're going to take a shower." I take my husband by the hand leading the way.

Upon reaching the narrow hallway, Anan lightly takes my other hand into his. "You are truly as lovely as the stars, they shine in the deepness of your eyes." He kisses me romantically and deeply, filling my stomach with butterflies.

"Let to water get really hot." I say to my husband while looking at myself in the mirror. Despite the bright lights of the bathroom, my pupils are very dilated. The euphoria from the full body orgasm still lingers and is likely to for a while. "I brought some shampoo; make sure you get it out of the bag...the conditioner too."

We sit on the bottom of the tub, my husband behind me with his legs on either side. The water falls like warm rain and he gently and slowly rubs the shampoo into my hair massaging as he does. Our communication is mostly non-verbal. His tender touches show an abundance of affection. He lands light kisses from time to time behind my ears and at the nape of my neck. Spending a long time in the shower on the bottom of this mundane tub, we bond in a deep and meaningful way. Much more meaningfully than having sexual intercourse. This sort of bonding can't be replicated in any selfish emotion or purely primal need. In this state I don't feel singular emotions of my own. I pull my knees in close and he wraps his long arms around and pulls me tight as if we are a single ball. He holds me so close, I love the way he holds me so close.

The ugly little bathroom is thick with steam. The hotel towels are so small, we have to use a few just for the floor leaving only one for my hair and two hand towels to dry our bodies. From his knees, my husband gently dries my entire body as I stand in the centre of the titled floor watching the mirror become clearer. As he rises to meet me, the picture becomes quite clear and we both take pause to reflect in it. We are together in this life. It's a powerful feeling, one that no spoken vow could replace. Together, completely naked, we stare at the mirror.

The wet bed being far beyond the prospect of utility, we all meet in the dry bed. I sleep in the middle with my husband to my right side and my lover to my left. It's an atypical sleeping arrangement to an atypical night. I pass the night trading nude cuddles back and forth, passing in an out of sleep with one and then the other. It's sometimes playful, sometimes solemn and other times sensual. There are a few playful tugging matches for my attention, but I try to evenly distribute it to the best of my ability. In the early morning light Anan is in need of a certain kind of attention. I slowly, lovingly and romantically suck his dick while he relaxes fully on his back. He enjoys it throughly for a full hour before he releases. His penis is incredibly strong and attractive to sight. It looks so beautiful in the soft morning shadows. I take the time to remind him how well he made love to me.