Cumming in Our Wive's Panties

Larry and I met on Grindr. We were both married to women, loved to cheat with married men and knew how to keep a secret. I have been hooking up with guys like Larry the entire 14 years I've been married. But he was different. What made him unique is that we chatted for close to three months before meeting in person. Most of the guys I met over the internet wanted to have a one-time quickie that day or maybe the next. But Larry and I found each other on at a transitional time for both of us. We both had cheated many times and were trying to quit but just couldn't keep ourselves away from the porn and hookup apps. It was obvious from the beginning we were kindred souls.

I am not expecting anyone to understand the relationship that developed between us. It might help to know that we would both watch porn while chatting on Grindr. He would stroke his cock, while I pinched my nipples and dry humped a pillow. We often exchanged stories about previous hookups. It was as if we were carbon copies of each other. Pretty much every hookup went the same for us both: Get insanely horny while edging to porn, find a guy on the internet, usually Grindr, then meet for sex, cum and feel ashamed.

The better we got to know each other, the more I found myself wanting a special kind of relationship with Larry. I wanted to make him my "side wife." He knew my brand of sexuality better than anyone I had ever met. He understood how porn warps the brain and makes straight men want to have sex with other men. He understood the thrill of cheating with men not once, not twice, but dozens of times. He understood the deep shame that cuts to the bone after every hookup. He understood the desire to do it all again.

Don't get me wrong. Both of us were straight in "real life," but once we got into a porn-induced trance we became willing to do almost anything. Neither of us ever wanted to change that dynamic. You will never catch me wearing leather chaps and waving a rainbow flag at a gay-pride parade. I would never bring a guy home for Thanksgiving dinner. All that was fine for other people. I have nothing against fully gay people. For guys like Larry and me, it is all about indulging in the animal instinct that emerges after gooning to porn for long periods of time.

Our Grindr relationship started to take an interesting turn a few weeks ago when I decided to tell him how I felt.

"I love you," I wrote to him while edging to striptease videos. "I want to be gay married to you. Not in real life but in our fantasy world."

"I love you too, baby," Larry wrote back. "I want to make you feel so good."

That's when it hit me all of a sudden.

"I've got an idea!" I wrote. "Would you want to have a 'gay marriage' ceremony with me?"

"What do you have in mind?" Larry replied.

It took a week, but we finally found a way to meet. He invited me to his house on a Wednesday morning while his wife was at work. He lived just a couple miles from me in one of our city's more fashionable neighborhoods. We made up a whole cover story in case his wife came home while I was there. If we heard her car in the driveway, we would dress quickly and tell her I was a co-worker swinging by to drop off some documents. Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that.

I walked up the white stone path to his front door with a plastic grocery bag in my hand. My heart thumped like it was going to penetrate my chest and fall to the ground. My feet made their way up the front steps to a black door with a gold knob. I was on autopilot, lost in a lust haze. It was like having an out-of-body experience, yet I knew that as soon as I knocked there would be no turning back.

Larry saved me the trouble. The door swung open as I reached the top step. He stood there looking just like the pictures he had sent-- just an average middle-age white guy dressed like he was headed to the office. I stepped into the foyer. We nodded hellos to each other. The house smelled like a woman's perfume tinged with deep homosexual shame.

I followed him down the hall to the master bedroom. He had a gray blanket with white stripes spread across a wide king bed. A lacy black bra and matching boy-shorts panties were laid out on the side opposite the pillows. A big television mounted on the wall played a quick-cut compilation of women taking cum shots to the face.

"Are you ready to get married?" I said with a twisted smile.

Larry reflected the expression back to me. "Definitely," he said.

I dumped the contents of my grocery bag onto the bed. Two of the items that tumbled out were a lacy, red teddy and matching panties. Both belonged to my wife, although she had not worn them in years. Larry and I had planned out several details of the ceremony but no formal way to begin, so I decided to jump right in before either of us lost the nerve.

My fingers scooped up the teddy by the shoulder straps. I held it out in front of me and stepped slowly over to Larry. His grinning face was visible through the sheer fabric.

"I present to you your wedding dress, straight from my wife's lingerie drawer," I said.

Larry accepted it. He pressed the teddy to his nose and inhaled, losing himself in the fantasy. Porn movie moans filled the room. Larry exhaled and cast his attention on me.

"And I present to you, your wedding bra and panties," Larry said with a grand gesture toward the garments on the bed. "I picked these out of my wife's lingerie drawer, too, especially for you."

We both knew what to do next. I started unbuttoning my shirt, and Larry did the same with his. We watched the sluts on the screen take one facial after another while we stripped naked. Then it was time to transform. I stepped into the panties first. I loved the boy-short style because my cock and balls fit up front while the rear hugged my ass. Maybe the hottest feeling in the world was knowing that the underside of my hard dick was pressing against the same area as his wife's public hairs did. The bra was a 36c with thin, lacy fabric for cups. I clasped the elastic band across my chest with the hooks in front first, then spun it around and strung my arms through the shoulder straps. I pushed as much tit into the cups as I could. The underwire pushed up my flesh and made my breasts look bigger than they were.

I felt like a slut.

So did Larry. I could tell, almost if by telepathy. By the time I was dressed, he had on the teddy. His body stretched it out. I could immediately tell it was ruined, but I didn't care. I was probably doing the same to his wife's lingerie. Larry was wearing the thong panties, too. The little triangle of fabric out front was nowhere close to containing his junk, so he just had it all hanging out the side. His big prick stuck out straight at me.

"Shall we begin?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "Let's begin."

A pair of my wife's lacy, white panties lay in a heap on the bed next to the empty grocery bag. My hands trembled as I picked them up and positioned myself behind Larry. I pressed the front my body against his backside, positioning the cock bulge in his wife's panties between his ass cheeks. For the first time, I realized that the perfume smell came from Larry. He must have spritzed on some from his wife's bottle. I wrapped my arms around him and groped a second until I found his love rocket. I arranged my wife's panties so that the hole on the tip of his cock was aimed at the crotch, the part that cradles my wife's pussy lips when she wears them. We were oriented so that we could both watch the cum shot videos on the TV screen.

"With these panties, I thee wed," I whispered in his ear.

I started stroking him slowly at first, keeping my grip light.

He breathed hard. "Ooooooh, yeaaaaaah," he said.

"You are what I really want," I said. "I want you to be my secret wife."

"Oh, fuck yes," Larry said. "I love you so much."

I began to dry hump the crack of his ass while stroking his cock faster. I had hooked up with many guys in bedrooms, hotels and public bathrooms across the country, but no hand-job, blowjob or butt-fuck session was as hot as this. We were becoming one, joined in lust, secrecy, cheating and shame. We both wanted nothing more than the feeling to last forever, but the rush was too intense. It was inevitable we would both cum soon.

I started stroking Larry faster. A blonde slut on the screen looked directly at us, her face streaming with the goo of several men.

"I'm gonna cum," Larry said.

"Do it," I whispered. "Cum in my wife's panties."

Larry's body shuddered as he started shooting. I slowed my strokes to a slow, light rub. The juice kept coming. I just let him do it. His warm cum spilled out of the panties onto my hand. His orgasm made me shoot my own load. I let loose in his wife's panties. My knees buckled, but I caught myself before collapsing to the floor.

When I regained my composure, I let go of Larry's cock and stepped back. We had chatted on Grindr about what would come next. The deep shame of cheating and secret gay sex was starting to set in, but we had both vowed to go through with the full ceremony.

Larry turned to face me. I opened up the panties to find his load. It was a gooey mess that had hit its target. I brought it to my face and dragged my tongue across it. His salty cum filled my mouth. I swallowed and kept licking until I had cleaned up the entire mess and then slurped up the streams of jizz dripping down my hand.

When I was done, I carefully slipped off his wife's panties. My cum had soaked into the black fabric with a few globs remaining. I handed the panties to Larry. He lapped up my cum as I had licked up his.

Then it was all over. The shame was setting in. It was time for me to go.

Without a word, we both quickly undressed and returned the lingerie we had been wearing. I stepped back into my khaki pants, pulled on my collared shirt and stuffed my wife's stretched-out teddy and cum-stained panties back into the grocery bag. Larry followed me as I walked swiftly to the front door.

"Let's talk about this on Grindr," I said.

"Of course," Larry said.

As he closed the front door, I got into my car and pointed myself in the direction of the office. About halfway there, I pulled into a Walgreens to pick up a bottle of water. It hit me while waiting in line-- no one could have known the dirty, shameful act Larry and I had just committed. I wondered how many others shopping for vitamins and greeting cards had done anything close to that.

Back in the car, I opened Grindr and sent a message to Larry.

"I can't believe we just did that," I wrote. "I feel so dirty."

"I know," Larry replied. "Let's do it again."

"For sure," I wrote.

Then I drove to work and tried to forget, at least for a little while.