Cucking the Snowbound Couple Ch. 04

I returned my attention to the movie, battling my eyelids, which weighed a ton now. I must have zoned out for several scenes, because the last one I remembered was the girlfriend slipping out of bed in the middle of the night. Only this time, she went all the way to her boyfriend's older brother's bedroom. Whatever pretext that she had for talking to him melted away quickly as they threw each other against the wall and began a hot steamy make-out session. It culminated when they shed their pajama bottoms, he hoisted her up against the wall, and they had fast frenzied sex, hands over each other's mouths to keep from waking the actress's sleeping boyfriend in the next room.

I could hear Alex breathing heavily as she watched the sinful act. She didn't move.

Then I lost my battle to sleep. My eyes shut and I drifted off...

***

I don't know how much time had passed. But a sound roused me from my drunken bliss.

I was tanked. When I opened my eyes, I didn't even know where I was. The ceiling looked far overhead. Orange moving ghosts danced across the exposed wood beams— the flicker of the fireplace.

Was I dreaming? It sure had that fuzzy sensation of a dream.

My head lolled to one side on the couch, and I saw the TV was on. The movie must have been over for a while. The DVD menu screen played over and over again on repeat. I swallowed, my mouth was dry, and I had no sense of up or down.

I couldn't be sure if I was awake, dreaming, or hallucinating. That was why, when I noticed Alex was no longer laying on my chest, I thought nothing of it. Had she ever been there in the first place? I couldn't remember.

I tried to pull the blankets higher on my body, and go back to sleep, but the blankets came up way too easily. Not a blanket laying across my chest, I realized. My eyes shut again, and I felt the fabric. Just a small and very soft pair of pajama pants.

I groaned in confusion but the sound came out as just a deep exhale, no louder than a sigh.

I turned my head, and movement caught my eye.

There, over by the easy chair. I had to blink several times just to clear the streaks from my vision.

As the room came into focus, I saw Brett lounging back in the easy chair. His hands were tucked behind his head.

He must have fallen asleep too, I figured. But then he blinked. No, he was clearly awake. One hand came away and moved to his lap, and he swept something to the side— something that was moving slowly up and down in his lap.

I didn't understand what it was at first. My vision was filled with halos and blotches. Then the image came into focus much more clearly.

I saw my wife. She was kneeling on the floor between Brett's bare legs. His pants were discarded on the floor. Alex's pajama bottoms were off. Her plump white ass was very visible, and very pale in the glow of the TV. Her butt rested on the heels of her big fluffy winter socks. Her head was in Brett's lap, and it was moving slowly up and down.

Her head was in Brett's lap! The thought jarred me. My vision cleared more, but I was so drunk, I still couldn't be sure if this was really happening.

Brett let out a soft sigh of pleasure. He swept Alex's hair back over one ear, and I could see her face now. Her eyes were shut, her cheek bulged with each bob of her head, and her hand was wrapped around the impossibly long shaft of Brett's manhood.

"Ohhh yes," Brett whispered in the dark. "Ohhh good girl."

I didn't move. I only laid there and blinked uncomprehending. If this was a dream, it was very vivid. And I didn't seem able to wake up.

Alex's hand moved in time with her mouth, like she was feeding herself with his cock. Her body was also moving, ever so slowly on the floor. I caught the shadow of fast moving fingers between her legs.

She was sucking Brett's cock and fingering herself while she did it!

He sighed softly in pleasure again, and this seemed to drive her on, taking him deeper, making her bob her head more eagerly. She put a little gentle twisting motion to her hand as she stroked him.

"Movie really got you wound up, didn't it?" Brett moaned softly, keeping his voice as soft as possible. Even the way he lounged back in that easy chair, he looked like the true king of the castle, enjoying the dying firelight while his subjects pleasured him.

Alex didn't reply. She just continued her slow sensual pace of sucking him, feeding on her lover like his cock was sustenance that she needed to live. I forgot all about the movie! But now that I remembered it, I could hear quotes from the movie, the gasps during the sex scene. Was this all a dream, inspired by one long movie about the slow seduction of another man's girlfriend?

"Mmmm," Brett moaned again, running his fingers through her hair. His hands were as big as her head. "Or maybe it was me and our little argument on the couch. You liked that, didn't you?"

Again, Alex didn't respond. But she let his cock flop out of her mouth. She grasped it by the head, and tilted it up and back. She knelt lower and dragged her tongue from his balls, all the way along the underside of his throbbing shaft. She didn't stop until she reached the head. Brett's organ had a long sheen on it. How long had she been sucking his cock?

When she reached the head, she ran the bloated tip in a slow circle around her lips. Her tongue gave him a slow sensual hint of pleasure. I could see her gazing up at him with lusty excited eyes. A thick line of saliva across her lower lip that pulled into a streamer as she moved her mouth away from his member.

"You liked it, say it, Alex," Brett whispered.

"Shhhh, we can't wake up Sean," her voice was much softer than Brett's. Barely a whisper. I could hardly hear her.

"Maybe he should see this," Brett teased. His hands slid off of her head and made their way down her back. She was still kneeling in front of him, her hand locked around his cock like she'd never let go. His big hands cupped her ass, and his fingers folded around her large round globes, stealing a slow sensual squeeze. She moaned softly, purring. She was horny and his teasing was only revving her up more.

He leaned over her as he massaged and groped her shapely ass. I couldn't believe this was happening. There was no way. "Would you like that?" he teased her further. She didn't reply, but from her moving hand on his shaft, and her head bobbing more ferociously than before, she had resumed sucking him with a vengeance.

Then Brett glanced up and caught my eye. I saw him, and he saw me. He grinned widely in the dark, showing his teeth. "Maybe your husband ought to see what you do the second he falls asleep," Brett's hands became rougher. He slipped his fingers around Alex's thong, and gave a sudden and swift tug, like she was a dog on a leash that needed proper training.

Alex grunted. "Oh Brett," she yelped softly. Then I could hear her slurp his member right back into her hungry mouth. His eyes were cruel, burning through me, but as she sucked him harder, they shut from the pleasure she was bringing him.

"Admit it," Brett snarled, and tugged her by the thong again, lightly slapping her ass with the other hand. "Admit that part of you wants him to see this."

"Mmmm," she moaned on his cock. Finally she spit his cock out with a loud wet sound, and her tongue darted fast teasing flicks across the head. "Yes," she admitted. "Part of me wants him to see this."

"Why is that?" Brett pressed, his hands fondling and playing with her ass. He was still glaring at me, showing all his teeth, like a demon from my darkest nightmares. He squeezed her cheeks together, then spread them apart. Back and forth.

Alex was rocking on her fingers now, twerking her hips in slow movements, growing more excited by the second. "I-I'm not sure," she admitted out loud.

From my vantage point on the couch, I could tell that was a very real answer. Alex never did talk often during sex. So for her to admit that she had no clue why... that made me feel like this wasn't a dream, or some drunken hallucination inspired by a movie about cheating.

But the way the shadows danced off Brett's face... the way I couldn't seem to clear my vision no matter how hard I tried... the way the room wobbled and spun... and the way I couldn't move or seem to form the words to speak... this had to be a dream. Right?

Brett wasn't willing to accept that as an answer. He give her ass one final slap, before sitting back in his seat again, tucking his hands behind his head like a master being served and worshipped. Without his body blocking her, I once again had a view of Alex's eager hand spinning and twirling like mad around his cock. The way she used every part of her mouth, every part of her tongue, and every part of body to entice and please him.

Even sitting back, he never took his eyes off of my confused, hazy, bewilderment. "Is it because..." he ventured. "You want him to know... and accept that you've taken a new lover?" he asked.

Alex didn't reply, but her pace became quicker. Her head bobbed faster, lower on his cock. Her response was only a moan. A deep excited moan.

She was excited, there was no denying that. The shadows danced on her juicy ass. The TV light playing off of her porcelain skin.

"What would you say to him if he woke up right now," Brett moaned. "and saw you sucking my cock like the antidote is in there?" He laughed softly.

Alex sucked vigorously for a few seconds more, pushing his cock to the back of her throat until she choked. She came up gasping for breath. "Nothing," she panted softly. "He's drunk."

"What if he wasn't?" Brett said.

Alex climbed slowly to her feet. Her legs had the slightest tremble to them. She unbuttoned her shirt hurriedly and dropped it at her feet. She slid her thong down her long sinewy legs and retrieved it as she climbed into Brett's lap. On her knees, she straddled him, planting one leg on either side of him in the big cushy easy chair.

"What if he just woke up... completely sober," Brett continued to push the matter, peering over her shoulder at me as he asked it. "Completely aware. Knowing full well this time it wasn't some drunken threesome that got away from him."

Alex hovered her sex over Brett's up-thrust cock. It stood full and proud— a tower of a reproductive organ. "I wouldn't say anything," Alex finally stared Brett in the face as she said it. "He would get the idea..."

And she put her hands on either side of Brett's face, and gave him a long sensual kiss as she started to sit down on him. She began to sigh against his mouth as she sank herself lower and lower. His rod was so huge, that even despite their fucking these past few days, her body still hadn't fully adjusted to him.

She broke the kiss after only a few seconds, gasping and moaning and trying to be as quiet as she possibly could. Brett stole her panties from her and wadded them up. Alex was so focused on the pleasure and pain as he split her apart, that she didn't object when he stuffed her crumbled up thong into her mouth.

She moaned softly into the muffled gag and sagged into his body until his cock was fully inside of her. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and began to rise up and down in a slow sensual pace.

By the light of the dying fire, I could see her firm ass, like an upside-down heart moving up and down. And disappearing into her body each time that she sank onto him, was a cock so thick and large, it was basically a third arm. The bottoms of her big cheerful socks faced me. Her toes curled into a fist each time that cock disappeared into her body.

I wasn't aware that my own cock was hard in my pajamas until the sight of her body rising and falling in slow sexy movements inspired a few warm wet drops of precum to leak out of my tip and begin to spread in the cotton fabric.

I still couldn't be sure if any of this was real. I was so out of it, so fuzzy, so inebriated. Even the sensation of my hard pecker was lost on me. There was just a dull sinking feeling my gut that brought the sensation of flying... like I had vertigo but wasn't falling, merely floating.

My wife clung tightly to Brett's shoulders as she rode him in slow sensual pumps. His hands slid up and down her sides, from her hips, up to her breasts, and back down again.

She moaned softly as the two found their rhythm, looking as natural as the ebb and pull of the tide. She sashayed her hips ever so slightly like a cowgirl on a slow motion horseback ride.

Brett caught me watching again and smiled. He reached behind Alex, cupped her large firm buns, and pulled them open, spreading her so I had a better view of his mammoth cock violating her... violating us— our marriage, and the foundation we had built together. And the tool by which he was doing it was so enormous. A slick wet coating of white cream had glazed his shaft, running down to his big heavy balls. That was all my wife. She was marking him with her body, her juices claiming what would forever be hers, just as he was claiming her— showing her body to me, just to emphasize that I wasn't the man she wanted this night, and probably wouldn't be any time again the future.

Then Brett slapped her lightly on the ass. Alex moaned into the thong gag. But then she spit it out. "Shhhh," she shushed him with a kiss, leaning over him. Her hands back to either side of his rugged face, feeling him from his hair, his ears, his stubbly cheeks, and his strong jaw line. She explored her lover's face with her hands as she roamed his mouth with hers, savoring every detail. She was making it last for as long as she possibly could— taking in the details to convince herself that it was all real.

Then their bodies started to move faster. Brett's hips began to lift off the chair in deeper and deeper thrusts. Alex's body clung to his, not willing to let go any time soon.

This couldn't possibly be real. None of it looked or felt real. The passion was too legitimate. Their bodies moving like a well oiled machine— in perfect rhythm with each other. I'd seen them fuck in the shower, and on the first night that we arrived, but it was usually with me awake and aware. There was no way they could be this confident and natural with each other without having done this before...

Alex's tempo picked up the pace. Her bare ass wiggled from side to side as she bounced on Brett. She took long hard pulls at his dick, her body feeling every single inch that he had to offer. And he had an awful lot of inches that I couldn't possibly deliver.

She hung onto his shoulders, and suddenly leaned her head back and moaned at the ceiling. "Uhhhhhhnnnn!" She cried out.

Brett leaned forward and buried his face into her chest. Her perky nipples pointed up to the ceiling as he hungrily latched onto one with his lips and clung with his teeth.

The sharp sensation sent her into a frenzy. She moaned more, bucking her body against his.

Brett was all too happy to meet her thrusts, holding her by the hips and pulling her into his body, spearing her over and over with his cock that was an utter flag pole. Their movement so fast and fluid, I felt disoriented watching. I might throw up, but was that from motion sickness... or heartbreak?

Brett scooted to the edge of the chair now, perching precariously and shuffled my wife around in his lap. She was no longer straddling him. She threw her legs around his waist, her outstretched arms clung to his shoulders. She was leaning very far back, but Brett's arms held her easily. The muscles of his burly arms flexing. His bicep veins bulged. He was clenching his teeth in animalistic lust. His eyes focused on her and bringing her into his body again and again.

His cock sank deep. Deeper than anything had ever ventured in her body. She leaned so far back into space, her hair was dancing on the surface of the coffee table, knocking empty beer cans aside. Her tits pointed straight up to the ceiling, her nipples hard and prominent.

The only sound was their feverish breathing, and their muted gasps of pleasure. Alex folded her feet together behind Brett's back. The sex was practically acrobatic.

Finally it happened. She started to whimper and cry out as the orgasm wracked her body. Brett laid her back onto the coffee table, her butt still hanging in space as Brett held her. I've never seen two people 'make love' and completely 'plow' each other in the same carnal act, yet they were doing it. I didn't think it was possible for two people to be more sexually in tune. I was nowhere near their level of performance, and would never be.

Brett fucked her on the coffee table, even as her orgasm subsided, and she was left gasping for breath, struggling to fill her lungs so she could only moan and cry out and beg for more.

The light from the TV shone off them, casting Alex's face in silhouette. Her eyes were shut in pleasure. Her mouth opened, a soundless gesture... a plea for something that she desperately needed.

She didn't have to say what. Brett automatically knew. He hunched over her, a muscular god of a man. He folded himself over her body, even as his hips drew his member in and out of his most triumphant conquest, and he started to kiss her deeply.

From this angle, I could only see them in silhouette. In the gaps between their panting kisses, I saw their tongues rolling and playing together, getting tangled in a sea of passion. They couldn't stop... would never stop.

Seeing them kiss as they fucked was too much for me. My body stiffened, disobeying my brain completely. I felt a pleasant spasm in my pants, and suddenly there was a thick spreading warmth in my pajamas. I was cumming in my pants!

The orgasm seemed to go on and on. The hot jizz clung to my legs coating my thighs. A groan of shame, disgust, and humiliation escaped my lips. The only sound I'd been able to articulate in my drunken state since the moment I opened my eyes.

It must have been loud enough to be heard. Because both Alex and Brett nearly jumped off the table like a pair of cats who'd been sprayed with a water. Their eyes were wide as they remembered where they were, and were facing the realization that I was awake... somewhat. I was still out of it, thinking it was a dream. But the look of shock on the two of them was very real— at least on Alex. Brett's expression may or may not have been practiced acting.

They were both naked, sweaty, and trembling from the earth shattering pleasure they'd been in the throws of. Alex covered herself, hiding behind Brett's massive frame. She looked like a deer in headlights, unsure of what to do or say. My wife, caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

Brett looked far less worried, keeping his body between me and her protectively. But I was still on the couch, unable to get up and barely able to move.

When it dawned on them that I wouldn't be moving... or even cognizant, they both seemed to sag a bit with relief.

"I think he's out of it," I heard my wife say as they looked down on me, inspecting my half sleeping form.

Their eyes glanced at the bulge in my pajama pants, and the large glazed wet spot.

"Oh man, he creamed himself," Brett said.

I heard the two of them snicker. Were they both laughing at my expense?

I groaned again, softly, from the depths of my despair. My eyes were beginning to shut again. I was teetering on the brink of consciousness, having drank myself stupid. I was now tumbling back down into drunken oblivion. It would have been a merciful bliss...

"What do we do?" Alex whispered. Her body hidden behind Brett, her head leaning out, her arm draped across his powerful chest.

"I know," Brett replied calmly. He leaned over me, and my eyes took in his naked form. Muscles gleaming. His manhood pointing straight out, having not received its goal, its relief. At least not yet. "It's all just a dream, Sean," he whispered to me.