Confessions of a Married Guy Ch. 02

At one point, I made it seven months without cheating on my wife. That may not sound like much to most people, but it was huge for me. Without the constant craving for cock, I had more time for work, exercise and hobbies. But it doesn't take much to send me reeling back down the hole of porn, Grindr and secret hookups. This time it was a billboard for a strip club. Two sultry eyes rimmed with heavy, black eyeliner peered at me from the side of the interstate on the way home from work. Every time I passed by, I had to grit my teeth and force myself to think about anything but acting out. I would recite the names of state capitals, or try to remember the lyrics to old Def Leppard songs. It worked for weeks, and then one day it didn't.

The air conditioner in my office made a loud knock one Tuesday morning and then started spewing hot air. It was an absolute scorcher outside, and my office quickly turned into an oven, so I headed home to work from my living room. Those two eyes reached out and grabbed me as I whizzed by on the interstate. I suddenly realized I was heading to an empty house and that my wife wouldn't be home for hours. I didn't even try to distract myself. I already knew what I was going to do.

As soon as I got home, I grabbed my personal laptop off the kitchen counter and headed for the bedroom. I got into porn-viewing position with a pillow on my lap and the laptop on the pillow. I leaned back against the head board and found a video of Kirsten Price stripping off a tight, purple dress. I've never tried heroin, but it couldn't be any better than the first rush from looking at porno after months of abstinence. I downloaded Grindr to my phone and began my search.

After about a half hour, I found a married guy named Harold. We had chatted many times before, and we almost hooked up a couple times, but he backed out at the last minute both times. I sent him a quick "hi," and we started catching up. He apologized for backing out of earlier encounters and asked when I was free again.

"How about now?" I asked.

Harold was serious about meeting this time. His BMW pulled into my driveway about 25 minutes later. By the time he arrived, I had on my my wife's lacy, black bra and matching boyshort panties. I had spritzed myself with her perfume and put on her fire-red lipstick.

I could hear from behind the closed front door as Harold turned off his car, opened the car door and then shut it. My heart pounded in the silence as he made his way to the front door of the house. He knocked lightly, as if he didn't want anyone to hear. I opened the door and stood to the side to let him in. I was pleased to see he was just as he advertised himself-- a typical middle age guy with a dad bod dressed in khakis and a green button-down shirt.

Harold nodded at me without saying a word. I could tell he was nervous. He was probably less experienced than he had claimed in our conversations. No matter, though.

"Let's go fuck in the bedroom," I said.

He followed me down the hall to the bedroom, where I had a porno video playing on the laptop. It was a compilation of guys double-penetrating sluts and cumming on their faces. I found myself identifying with the sluts. Harold just kind of stood there looking at me, wondering what to do.

"Do you like foreplay, or do you want to get right into fucking?" I asked.

"Let's just fuck," he said.

I nodded and slipped off my panties, while Harold stripped off his office wear. I left the bra on. I loved how the cups squeezed my tits. It made me feel feminine. I laid back on my wife's side of the bed with my legs open and put a pillow under my ass to make access easier for Harold. When he was totally naked, he crawled between my legs and guided his prick between my butt cheeks.

Harold paused for a moment, as if he were having second thoughts, and then he pushed himself inside me. It hurt like it always does when a prick pierces my hole. What's really strange is that I could almost feel his hesitancy slip away the deeper his cock went. The whole time his ice, blue eyes burned into mine like an invisible laser beam. I felt something I'd never before experienced. It was a new emotion so odd and ephemeral it almost defies words.

"Fuck me," I gasped. "Make me be your new wife."

Harold's sausage suddenly quit making forward progress up my anal love hole. It seemed he had reached maximum penetration.

"Do you want this cock?" he whispered.

"Yes," I said.

"Tell me how bad you want it," he said.

"Give it to me, baby," I said. "I'm your new wife. Fuck me good."

Without another word, Harold thrust his hips forward. He must've had three inches left to shove inside me. A lightning bolt of pure pleasure shot through my body. I heard an involuntary "uh" pop from my mouth and echo off the bedroom walls.

"You like that?" Harold asked.

"Oh, fuck yeah," I said. "Gimme more."

Harold's cock slowly pulled out of my ass pipe. But just as it seemed he was going to exit completely, he reversed course and started pushing back in. Once again, Harold paused before burying his cock all the way inside me. He shot me a grin and gave me a wet peck on the lips.

"Ready?" he asked.

I nodded vigorously. He jammed the rest of his cock inside me. Another lightning bolt struck. He started pounding me with the same rhythm. Each time he finished a hard thrust my mind and body tumbled into another realm of ecstasy. I belonged to him, utterly and completely.

"Do me like you do your wife," I said.

Harold didn't say a word. He just paused his thrust, shot me his ice-cold laser gaze and smashed his lips against mine. His tongue darted into my mouth. I avoid kissing men in most situations, but in this context, it enhanced the eroticism exponentially. I felt so naughty and gay with Harold's hard cock in my ass and my wife's bra squeezing my tits. As Harold's tongue probed my mouth, I draped my arms daintily around his neck and licked back. He started French-kissing me like a caveman. Harold was breathing hard. So was I.

Harold started rocking his hips in long, smooth, regular thrusts. I squeezed him tighter as our tongues played. His hips picked up the pace. My cock was leaking pre-cum. I fought to hold my jizz in my balls. I wanted Harold to shoot his load before I came. I could tell he was getting close.

He broke lip-lock and propped himself up on his arms. At first I was disappointed that we weren't kissing anymore, and then I saw he wanted leverage to pump my ass harder and faster. When I looked up, Harold's eyes were rolling back into his head. He was far gone in lust.

"Cum inside me," I said. "Cum inside your new wife."

I could tell he was enjoying the wife talk. It put him over the top. He took one last stroke, hunched over and shuddered as he and shot his hot jizz intp my fuck hole. Harold kept himself stuffed inside me until he squeezed every last drop of cum from his balls. He rolled over and flopped onto his back on the bed next to me. I noticed for the first time just how long and thick his cock was. I was proud of myself for taking it as well as I did.

I somehow had managed to refrain from cumming. While Harold cooled down, I was hotter than ever.

"Want me to blow you?" Harold asked.

"No," I said. "I want to ride this lust high a while longer. I'm going to see if I can find another hookup. You should hang out. We can do a threesome."

I said this as if I did it all the time. In fact, I had been able to organize only two threesomes over Grindr. Many others had fallen through, usually because someone would get cold feet. I must've been convincing because Harold said, "Ok."

"Cool," I said. "Get comfortable. I'll get some beers."

Harold's cum was running down my ass cheeks to my thighs. I made no effort to wipe it away. I wanted to wear it like the slut I am.

I grabbed two cans of IPA out of the fridge, hurried back to the bedroom and gave one to Harold.

"Thanks," he said, while cracking it open.

He was fully dressed in his khakis and button-down shirt. I still had on my wife's bra, and I decided to keep it on. The panties laid haphazardly on the floor. I picked them up, spread them out by the elastic waistband and stepped into them.

I sat on the bed with my back against the headboard and my legs spread in front of me.

"What kind of porn is going to get you hard enough to go again?" I asked.

"Tranny porn," he said. "For sure."

"Perfect," I said.

I brought up a compilation of transsexuals fucking women. The moans filled the room, as Harold and I updated our profiles on Grindr to reflect that we were looking for a third married guy to join us.

Then I sat back, drained my beer and started pinching my nipples while watching the porn. Harold kept his eyes glued to the screen, too. We watched tranny sluts fucking female sluts and drank our beer without speaking a word. Moans from the laptop made the only sound in the room. It was like being in a video booth at an adult bookstore, except we were in the bed where I fuck my wife. Everything was perfect, except neither of us was having any luck finding a third. Harold was the first to give up, but I wasn't far behind.

"You want to fuck me in the ass?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said. "Let's hook up a threesome another time."

Harold drained the last of his beer and set the empty can on the nightstand. He stood up, pulled his shirt over his head and slid off his pants and boxers. His cock was hard again. Mine was, too, I wriggled out of my panties as Harold laid on the bed with his legs spread in the exact spot my wife does the same.

Pre-cum was leaking from my cock. I had been edging for hours.

"I'm going to cum quick," I said.

"Good," he said. "I want your cum inside me."

I grabbed a pillow.

"Put this under your ass," I said.

Harold arched his back, and I helped him slide the pillow underneath him. His booty hole was in the perfect fucking position.

I slipped between his legs and laid my body on top of his. Our faces were centimeters apart. His beery breath warmed my lips.

"Are we fags?" I asked.

He seemed taken aback at first, but then his face registered understanding.

"I am a faggot slut," he said.

"Good, me too," I said. "Feel my tits while I fuck you."

I pressed the head of my cock against his bung hole without entering and propped myself up on my arms, my hands digging into the mattress. Harold's hands started caressing my tits over my wife's bra like we were boyfriend-and-girlfriend making out in the back of car. I couldn't take it anymore. Instinct took over. My hips involuntarily thrust forward, and I was suddenly inside Harold. He winced. I could tell he didn't bottom very often. I took it slow, gently rocking my hips back and forth in shallow pumps. As his face loosened, I drilled deeper and quickened the pace. That's when Harold lost his mind. He went full-on homosexual.

"Oh, fuck yeah!" he said. "Fuck my pussy!"

I started slamming him hard. I wanted to fuck him all day, but I just couldn't hold back. After about three or four hard pumps, my nut started gushing. Time froze for a moment. It felt as if Harold's ass pipe was squeezing the cum out of my cock. I let him have every last drop before pulling out and dropping onto the bed next to him. I looked over. His hard cock poked up toward the ceiling. Without asking permission, I slipped between his legs, took his prick into my mouth and started bobbing my head. I looked up at Harold. He seemed surprised at first, but any shock quickly transmuted to pure pleasure. He let his head loll back and shot his load into my mouth. Harold came in long, hot spurts. The amount was impressive considering he had jizzed in my asshole less than a half hour earlier. I swallowed every last drop.

The shame started to set in as soon as we physically separated. Harold jumped off the bed and searched for his pants. I looked down at the bra on my chest and felt disgusted at myself. But I knew one sure cure for that. Another hookup.

"Let's do this again," I said.

"For sure," Harold said.

I walked him to the door. As soon as he was gone, I put my wife's lingerie back in the drawer and took a shower. Even after I toweled off, I still felt dirty.

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