Debbie Comes Through -- Finally!

WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! If you don't like stories about cheating wives, don't read this story. It's a fictional piece about a Literotica reader and his wife. It's a fantasy for them to play with and has nothing to do with reality. It's designed to tickle their erotic sides to add a little spice to their very compatible marriage. I hope it helps get the juices flowing. Just so you know: I will delete negative anonymous comments, but I will not delete comments -- good or bad -- by people who identify themselves and allow contact. So, Debbie and Skip. This one's for you.

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Skip and Debbie had been married for five years, and the honeymoon was far from over. They were still excited about each other's company, and both had honed their skills in oral sex through the years. Debbie knew that Skip loved to have the underside of his scrotum scratched while she licked and stroked his cock with long, wet, and smooth strokes, while applying toothless pressure on his respectable 7-inch cock. She would mix in occasional light-pressured bites for variation, but would follow that with deep penetration down her throat. Her long and frequent practice had allowed her to almost complete mastery over the perfect technique. It would take much more than 7 inches to stop her, but she didn't worry about that because she had only had one cock in her mouth, and that was all she would ever have.

Skip was only too eager to return the favor. He liked to run his tongue along the inner folds of her pussy, tracing all the intricate avenues and creases, then moving to the clitoris with broad strokes of his tongue, followed by variations of licks, taps, and circling of the clit, with regular visits to her vaginal passage for penetration as far as his tongue could reach . He liked to pull away and look carefully at her wet and open pussy, which he sometimes spread with his fingers, or which she sometimes spread with her fingers, while he penetrated her passageway with vigorous strokes of one or two fingers. (She was a bit too tight for three fingers).

They both liked to be unpredictable, sometimes staying with their ministrations until orgasm, but more often moving to actual penetration and orgasm. Sometimes, the orgasms came quickly and sometimes only after extended periods of stroking, thrusting, and mutual, coordinated pelvic movement and different positions. Skip liked the doggie style because he could get great penetration. Debbie liked the deep penetration too and enhanced the feeling by rubbing her clit or allowing Skip to reach around and stimulate her while filling her from the back.

They both liked face-to-face sex -- regardless of who was on top -- because it was so visual and intimate. Skip savored watching Debbie's tits bounce when they got revved up, and Debbie liked to feel her tits bounce because it underlined her femininity, and she knew it pleased Skip. She also liked to thrust them into Skip's mouth which pleased them both. Face-to-face sex also allowed them to adjust their positions to allow Skip's cock to rub against Debbie's clit, as they fucked. It inevitably wound up in orgasms for both partners. Usually, Debbie came first, then Skip. It worked very well for them. They had gotten pretty good at through the years, mainly because they got so much practice. And they were both totally unselfish. What they each liked most was knowing their partner was getting the most out of the innate pleasure derived from sex.

Skip only had one nagging regret. He was slightly ahead of Debbie in sex partners. He had had more variety than she had, but she didn't seem to mind. "It's normal," she said. "Most husbands have more experience than their wives. It's the nature of the beasts."

"But it's not fair," Skip persisted. "You don't even know what another man feels like, while I know what other women feel like. It's not the same with everybody. Trust me. Different girls feel and react differently. It would be even truer with male partners, since we all have different-sized cocks."

"Your cock is just fine," Debbie insisted. "I don't need other cocks in my pussy -- or my mouth. I have no interest in other cocks. I don't need them. Now, let's drop the subject."

"OK," Skip conceded. "If you're happy, I'm happy. Just keep in mind that if you take advantage of an opportunity to get laid, I'll understand. I know that you get lots of opportunities at work, and I know you turn lots of men away. But I would understand. I mean it."

With that, Skip dropped the subject, knowing that Debbie had more opportunities for trysts than most wives due to her work as a receptionist at a high profile insurance company. Skip also frequently went on camping and fishing trips, leaving Debbie home alone. So between overly estrogenized, high-flying business associates and Skip's frequent absences, the opportunities were there for Debbie, and he secretly wished that she would take occasional advantage of her opportunities. It was only fair. However, Debbie never really believed that he meant what he said about her getting laid, so she fervently avoided even discussing the subject with him.

Still, Debbie was a very beautiful and well-maintained young blue-eyed blonde, with average-sized, but exquisitely proportioned tits and narrow hips with well-toned musculature and shapely legs. She frequently did running and swimming workouts with the still athletic Skip, and even pushed him in some phases of his training. She knew she was a very attractive woman, and she actually enjoyed showing off -- to a point. She liked to wear short skirts and low-cut or gapping tops which showed a generous amount of cleavage and leg -- even an occasional panty-flash. And she had exhibitionist events almost daily. But that was as far as she went. She actually enjoyed flashing most of her tits, but never with a nipple showing, and she always wore panties, so the frequent glimpses that men got between her legs never revealed more than panties. At least that was the way she portrayed it, and Skip believed her.

"It's just a little harmless teasing," she always said. "It's fun, but it's as far as I want to go with other men."

She didn't tell him that almost on a daily basis, she "accidentally" rubbed her well-clothed tits against men at work. Opportunities often arose which put her in close proximity to men, and it was almost inevitable for her tit to come in contact with an elbow, shoulder, or the back of a hand. Sometimes some of the more aggressive men would manage to get in a decent squeeze without being too overt about it. Once, when a visiting executive stopped by her desk for directions to an office upstairs, she laid a map down on her desk and traced the path for him. When he bent down to get a closer look, Debbie moved very close to him, and when he turned back to ask her a question, his face rubbed heavily against her tit. She didn't back off, and his cheek remained in contact with her tit for several seconds before they both broke contact. To avoid an awkward moment, Debbie bent over to show the executive a detail on the map and revealed the usual 80 percent tit, no nipple view that she was so good at.

Without taking his eyes off the cleavage, the executive said, "Thank you. That was very helpful."

"You're welcome," Debbie said with similar sincerity, accompanied by an inviting smile. She never changed positions, and the cleavage remained in view until the executive walked away.

That executive later came back and said, "I'm going on a business trip next week. Would you like to come along and help me stay focused?"

Debbie laughed and answered, "That doesn't sound like a business trip to me. It sounds more like Monkey Business." But she smiled sincerely and flashed some more cleavage, as the executive walked away, shaking his head.

Based on what Debbie told Skip, that was as far as it ever got: just playful teasing.

Then Boris came on the scene. Boris was Skip's cousin, and though they had never been particularly close, they discovered they had a common interest. They both wanted to compete in the Quadithalon, a local skiing, running, biking, and swimming event that was both grueling and irresistible to Skip and Boris. After the discovery of this common interest, they decided to work out together to prepare for the event. They could be each other's trainer and cheerleader. Of course, Debbie could also be a cheerleader, which was quite fortuitous for Boris, quite fortuitous indeed.

Debbie and Boris's relationship was kind of a slow evolution of events, with the Quadilathon as the catalyst that got the pot boiling very slowly over a couple of years. Skip and Boris's workout schedule brought them together several times a week, and Debbie morphed into almost equal parts cheerleader, confidante, advisor, and nurse. She even worked out with the boys when she had the opportunity -- and pushed them to the limit in the swimming workouts. After several months of this formula, the three of them formed a unique bond with a lot of mutual affection. For the next two years, the three-way friendship was forefront in their lives, pushing aside -- perhaps neglecting -- other important relationships. Skip thought of Boris as something more than just a cousin -- perhaps, more like a brother, and Debbie's developed a fondness for Boris that was exceeded only by her undiminished feelings for Skip.

After workouts on weekends, the three friends often went to a club where they did a little drinking and a lot of dancing -- at least Debbie and Boris did a lot of dancing. Skip didn't care for dancing, and he wasn't very good at it, so Boris and Debbie spent a good part of the night dancing together. During the fast dances, Debbie (the incurable flirt) had every opportunity to flash cleavage and high thigh shots in the direction of Boris. Boris was an enthusiastic recipient of Debbie's offerings and would respond with sexy looks and pelvic thrusts.

In the slow dances, however, the pair was able to really enjoy what they liked most. Boris liked to hold Debbie's right hand in his left and place both their hands just about her collar bone, which inevitably "accidentally" slipped a few inches, leaving the back of Boris's hand resting comfortably on Debbie's tit. It was a perfectly legal way for Debbie to get felt up, so sometimes she slipped her hand out of his and held the back of his hand with the palm firmly against her tit. She also liked to dance with his hard-on pressed against her stomach, or his leg rubbing against her pussy. This sort of thing often went on for hours.

Skip didn't know, for sure, what was going on out there on the dance floor, but he could see some of it and could guess the other parts. He didn't mind. It only seemed natural to him that the two good friends would find ways to give each other pleasure, and when he got home, there was always hot sex with Debbie who was already warmed up and was sometimes ready for his cock right away, bypassing the warm up sessions. Skip liked the warm up sessions in the normal scheme of things, but quick penetration into a hot wife also had its rewards. Besides, he had given her implicit permission the fuck another man, if she had the inclination and the opportunity. He was hoping this closeness between Debbie and Boris would lead to Debbie getting laid, but he wasn't holding his breath for that moment. Debbie always vehemently denied any desire to get laid by another man, plus Skip was very sure she would never tell him it she did so.

He would do what he could, such as letting them dance, encouraging Debbie to flash some nipples instead of just cleavage or to finally show Boris a panty flash without the panties. He sometimes purposely came home late on workout days to give Boris and Debbie private time together. It was all he could do. He couldn't make Debbie do anything she didn't want to do, and he wouldn't want her to either. He wanted her to be wholeheartedly into screwing Boris before actually trying it. If not, then he certainly wouldn't try to force her to do it.

Boris wouldn't force her either. In the first place, he would never force any girl to fuck him. It was clearly morally wrong to do so, but from his perspective, it was also a matter of pride. He wanted the girl to want to fuck him, or he would pass on the piece of ass, thank you. He knew he was a great physical specimen on a muscular 6' 4" frame, with rugged good looks and a big cock. More importantly, he knew how to use it. Yes, he would love to fuck Debbie -- as long as it remained just a piece of ass, with no strings attached -- but he would not force her. She would make the decision.

From Debbie's perspective, she knew that it would eventually come to fucking, but she would never get caught, and would never tell anybody -- especially Skip. Hell, she didn't even tell him about rubbing her tits against the men at work. Why would she ever tell him about getting laid? She would continue being a careful exhibitionist, and she would tell Skip about passes made by other men, but she wouldn't tell him any more than that. Ostensibly, he wouldn't mind her getting laid by another man, but the reality of such a thing happening was totally different from fantasizing it. Besides, she had adamantly told Skip that she had no interest in fucking another man and would never do it, so she was kind of backed into a corner. She had to stick to her story.

First, though, Debbie thought it was time to finally give Boris a real treat. When she came home from work on one of the workout days, she took off her work blouse and put on a loose-fitting halter top. She knew Boris liked this top because when she bent over in front of him, as she often did, he could see her entire bra and the ample cleavage it so efficiently held in place. She walked over to a mirror and bent over. Only her nipples were covered and just a hint of areola peaked out above the bra. Yep, Boris would get a great view. For the first time, she would let him see more than just cleavage. She straightened up, feeling a slight warmness between her legs.

Debbie heard the doorbell ring. It was Boris: early again. She turned toward the door, then on a whim, she turned back toward the mirror and bent over again. She reached under the halter top and tugged her bra from the bottom until both nipples popped free over the top of the bra. It was a bit uncomfortable and her nipples pooched a bit, but there they were, in plain view. She went to open the door.

Boris came in and walked over to his favorite easy chair and sat down. As usual, Debbie went to the kitchen and got a glass of lemonade. When she got to Boris with the lemonade, she bent over and switched on the coffee table light, next to his chair.

"You don't want to sit here in the dark, do you?" she asked. Then she turned toward Boris and handed him the drink. As she did so, she leaned lower than usual and pushed her shoulders forward.

Unabashedly, Boris looked straight down Debbie's top. Her nipples were hard from the friction of rubbing against the top of her bra, and were pointing straight toward Boris. He peered intently with a satisfied look on his face.

"Finally," he said. "After all those cleavage shots, finally a nipple shot. How nice."

'You've been a good and patient boy," Debbie said. "I decided it was time to go one step further. Well, what do you think?"

Boris knew how to play this game. "I like what I see, but everything is kind of bound up. How about a less obstructed view?"

Debbie turned around. "Unsnap me," she said.

Boris reached under the halter top and in one swift motion, unsnapped Debbie's bra. Without removing the halter top, Debbie managed to take off her bra and drop it on the floor. Then she turned back around to face Boris.

She pulled the top of her halter top away from her chest and looked down. "That's a relief," she said." Things were kind of tight and uncomfortable there for awhile. Just look at those red marks just under my nipples."

As she spoke, she pulled her halter top up and fully exposed her tits to Boris. "Whew," she said. "They need to be aired out a little." And she waggled them back and forth, which caused them to sway slightly. "Boris, do you think you could rub those red marks out for me?"

"Sure," Boris said. "But I have to air something else out first." He stood up and quickly dropped his pants and underwear to his ankles.

Debbie looked at the only uncut cock she had ever seen and also the biggest. It grew as she watched and finally came to rest at a 45 degree angle, pointing directly at her. Debbie couldn't help noticing that he had a good inch or two on Skip's ample 7 inches.

"Hold off on the massage for a minute," said Debbie.

She, in turn, unbuttoned her cutoffs and let them drop to the floor. She stood in front of Boris, completely naked.

Boris smirked. He had almost decided that Debbie was never going to come through, but finally: here she was, showing him everything she had: a clear invitation. He looked at Debbie's tits, then at her pussy, then at her tits, then at her pussy.

After all that waiting, he wasn't disappointed. Debbie was trim, as he knew she would be, and firm from top to bottom. Her tits were just the right size, not too big and not too small, and he knew they were soft; he had rubbed against them enough times to know that. And he couldn't help noticing how nicely they jiggled when she walked toward him. They had perfect form, with virtually no sag: wonderful natural breasts. The only kind that really mattered to him. Her patch was light in color and trimmed to fit inside a bikini. These were great assets, but the thing that made them better was the fact that they were Debbie's assets. His good friend, Debbie: a girl he had lusted after for months, while he had developed a real affection and friendship for her. Now he was going to fuck her, and that sounded great to him. Friends are great people to fuck. Now, this friend was standing there smiling, inviting him to fuck her, and who was he to disappoint her?

Debbie smiled at his moment of hesitation. Then she said, "What's the matter? Can't you decide what to go for first?"

"Well, uh . . . ," said Boris.

Before Boris could answer, Debbie said, "I'll help you make up your mind." She stepped forward and took Boris's cock in her hand, then turned her back to him, as she led him to the bedroom. She had the cutest little naked female ass Boris had ever seen, and he watched it sway slightly as she walked.

Holding his cock firmly, she led him directly to the bedroom. She released his dick only momentarily as she sat down on the bed. She recaptured it with both hands and took one long lick, the length of cock, finishing with a light, playful bite on the bulbous end.

She said, "We'll have to hurry because Skip could be home at any minute. But we need some quick lubrication." So she took his dick in her mouth and let him briefly fuck the inside of her mouth while she liberally covered it with saliva.

Without letting go of his cock, she lay back on the bed, adjusted her legs very wide and pulled Boris toward her. She rubbed his wet cock up and down her crack several times until she felt it would slip in without any problem, then stopped at the entrance of her cunt and held it there.

"Push," she said.

But before Boris could start his entry, the phone range. He held everything in place, as Debbie answered the phone.

Taking two deep breaths to calm her voice, she said, as casually as she could muster, "Hello. This is Debbie."

Skip was on the other end. "Hi, Sweetie," he said. "How are things at the home front?"

"Just fine. In fact: great! We're waiting patiently for you. No, actually we're waiting impatiently for you. When will you be home?"

"It won't be for another half hour or so, so you and Boris can find a way to occupy yourselves until I get there. OK? I'm sure you can find something to do until I get home."