James or Something Innocuous

We had gone to sleep in the motel. It was my wife and I, a hitchhiker we'd picked up outside Chicago, James was his name, or something innocuous like that. He was very quiet.

We had been together nearly four years, my wife and I but we're newly married. With the change in our status, which hardly felt different to me, she seemed to have more confidence. In life and in bed. Recently, she had become enamored by experimentation with anal sex. It was a fetish I was ambivalent about at first, but when I discovered the effect on her, the explosive pleasure it gave her, not to mention the tightness and warmth of that other orifice, I had been converted.

James or whatever was very quiet. After our first stop for gas, my wife sat in the back with him, trying to get him to open up. He was from Michigan. He'd had a girl, was engaged, but she had broken it off. Now, he was going to see his older brother in Denver.

The motel had given us a king-size instead of two doubles. It was late, we were tired from driving. We decided to make do.

I awoke in the night to my wife's labored breathing and her fondling my penis through my underwear. She extended her leg to where it was between mine, rubbing against me. She started tugging at the band of my underwear, so I took them off. I was half-erect already, and in the dark, she licked her fingers and took me in her hand. We kissed. Half asleep, I finally remembered James and became nervous about waking him.

What about - I started.

Shhhh.

She turned around, placed her bare hips into my crotch. I heard her lick her fingers again, wet herself. She reached between her legs, guided the tip of me into her.

I slowly pressed my way inside her. It felt incredible. She was always tighter when she woke in the middle of the night. I slowly slid in and out of her, and she moaned, softly as she could. James, or his silhouette, was lying still on the other side of her. She raised her pillow, bit down on the corner, and I could no longer see him to watch for movement.

I didn't care.

I carefully slid in and out, trying to work at her rhythmically. I felt her fingers move from her clitoris to the underside of my penis, then my testicles, when I realized it wasn't just her fingers.

I slid out of her, but she held me to her. Between her legs I now realized I was head to head with James's cock. She rubbed us together between her legs. We could feel the heat emanating from her. I tried to enter her again but she had him inside her and now it was my tip running against him. I nearly came right there from the shock, even shot a spurt of precum.

Oh, she sighed, releasing the pillow. Oh God.

He was lying back, nearly perpendicular to her. I ran my hand up her hip and ribs, felt her breasts, kissed her neck. She sat up, took her shirt off.

The lube, she whispered.

We had talked about this at the diner over dinner, but nothing had been settled. Still, I got out of bed. Her toilet case was in the bathroom. I got up, found it, and searched it's pockets for the small bottle we carried with us. I had to flip in the bathroom light.

When I turned back, she was riding him, slow motion, rodeo style. I came up behind her, kissed her neck, fondled her breasts. After a moment, she leaned down, pressed against him, her butt in the air. I opened the lube, applied it to my penis, then squirted some in her crack.

She jumped.

Okay? I said.

Yeah, just cold.

I rubbed the lube in, found her butthole with my finger, pressed it. He was no longer in her, I felt him come out and brush against my leg. He must have had length. She reached down, moved so I could tell she was positioning him inside her. Then, she was still, and I pressed against her anus with the tip of my penis. She breathed in sharply as I entered.

It took a few tries. One or the other of us kept sliding out, but after a minute, we got the rhythm right. I was straight backed on my knees and he was under her. I had never felt anything so tight. We could work slow, no need to increase the rhythm. It was everything I could do to hold back. I wondered how this man hadn't come inside my wife yet.

Soon, she was crying out. Her moans were pitched with that point between pleasure and angst. I knew her pussy was flooding over him. I heard him grunt, and decided to let go myself, shooting my sperm up my wife's butt.

She fell down between us, exhausted. No one said anything and we all went to sleep.

In the morning, we pretended it was a dream I guess, at least no one talked about it. But James had a glow in his eye, and I felt like his step was lighter. We dropped him in Denver later that day.