Making a Hotwife Pt. 01

I didn't have my moment of kneeling at the foot of the bed and holding my wife's hands while Ike fucked her from behind. She didn't once call me over to her, and I didn't ask. The scene was set the same as in my fantasies and some of the videos I'd watched, but they didn't prepare me for what it would feel like from the inside. Watching a scene like that starring someone else's wife on a little laptop screen or phone screen is nothing like sitting next to the bed and hearing the groans of the bedsprings overlapping with those of your own wife as she welcomes the thrusting and pounding of the giant brutish man on top of her. A video contains none of the animal scent that fills the room or the sweat occasionally flinging off the lovers' bodies. It doesn't capture the intensity of the contempt and disregard radiating in waves from the man who is doing these things to your wife right in front of you. But one thing was the same. I may have been inside the scene, but asking either of them for anything seemed as unthinkable and as pointless as asking the couple in one of those videos.

It wasn't clear to me at the time, but I realized later, that Ike had a very specific purpose in mind for this first meeting. Aside from fucking my wife senseless while I watched. He seemed to be putting both of us through some kind of conditioning process. A process by which my place in her mind and affections was systematically (and rapidly) demoted.

For most of the evening Ike completely ignored my presence as he fucked my wife. But every time she was approaching orgasm, he would put his face close to hers and in a harsh growling whisper say something like, "That's right baby. Does that little husband of yours ever fuck you like this?" Or "Look at your husband's little dick. Has he ever once satisfied this pussy?" Or "Has your little husband ever once made you feel like a woman? You need a real man, don't you, to fuck you like you need?"

And each time he would keep saying it until Fran agreed and said it back to him. And then he'd tell her to turn and say it to me, which she did without fail. The first few times my wife was reluctant and even apologetic as she repeated to me in a pained voice the demeaning things Ike told her to say. But she must have noticed that each time she did it I would jerk my dick more furiously and feverishly than ever, and by her last orgasm of the night she was howling and moaning her agreement frantically as if she was afraid Ike might not believe her.

She had been on top of him for awhile, riding his cock with abandon. Suddenly he took her disheveled head in her hands and began thrusting his cock up into her. He held her face to his as he pumped his hips up and down, ramming his huge cock like a piston into my wife's swollen red pussy.

"OOHHH, FUCK IKE!!" Fran whined, "OOOOHHHHH Gawd baby you fuck me so good!"

"That's right, baby," Ike growled low and quiet in return. "Who does this pussy belong to now?"

"HHUOOOO, fuck Ike, this pussy—this pussy is all yours baby!"

"You sure about that, Darlin'," Ike snarled, "You sure it's not still your husband's pussy?"

"OOOHHHH, FUCK IKE, this pussy's all yours now, you fucked me and made it yours!" my wife pleaded.

"OOHHH fuck, that's right Franny. I know this pussy is mine. You know this pussy is mine. But I'm not sure your husband knows who this pussy belongs to now. He's sitting there stroking his little dick, still thinking it belongs to him."

"OOOHHHHHHH Gawwd, Ike," groaned my wife fiercely as she looked over at me. There was no longer anything apologetic in her expression. Her eyes were glazed as they had been all night with lust for the man she was riding. But behind it there was something else, something I didn't expect and which aroused me more than anything I had seen that night. It was anger. Seething, churning anger. When she spoke, her words were addressed not to me, but to Ike, and there was a hard new edge in her voice.

"He fucking knows better than anyone who this pussy belongs to now," she hissed.

I locked eyes with her and furiously jerked my four inches. As I felt my cum rising for the third or fourth time that night I looked over at Ike's face.

"It's — it's yours, Ike," I stammered, as the week stream of milky fluid spurted out of my prick, "my wife's pussy belongs to you, Ike."

"HUOOOOHHH fuck, you heard him Ike," Fran whimpered, "this pussy belongs to you!" Her face pressed up against Ike's as he roared and grabbed my wife's ass, burying his cock and his seed deep inside her.

Their bodies convulsed in sync with each other's subsiding orgasms for another half minute or so before they finally went limp and my wife collapsed on top of Ike's strong, woolly chest. They lay panting and catching their breath, their lower halves streaked with each other's fluids and their whole bodies glistening with sweat. I wondered for a moment if they might rest and go yet again, but from the looks on their faces I could tell they were both finally exhausted and sated. It goes without saying my wife's face wore a look of fulfillment and contentment I had never seen on it before, and which I certainly could never have put there. Their eyes were closed, and they both seemed to have forgotten for the moment that I was in the room. I closed my eyes as well, my hand still resting on my now flaccid and cum-covered dick, and we all drifted off to sleep.

The clock next to the hotel bed read 5:46 when I woke to the sound of bed springs gently creaking. I was still slouched down in the arm chair, and looked up to see Ike and my wife engaged in a gentle passionate kiss as he slowly fucked her missionary style. Ike had her face in his hands and their eyes were locked. I wanted to get up and use the bathroom, but I didn't want to disturb them. I figured they must have been at it for a little while, because I was only watching for a couple minutes before Ike began thrusting more deeply, then clamped his mouth on her neck and gave a muffled roar, unleashing his first cum of the day deep inside my wife. Fran wrapped her legs tight around his back and responded with a series of plaintive wails as her own orgasm crashed in waves over her.

They kissed for few more minutes after the ecstasy subsided. Then Ike rolled off of her and stood up next to the bed facing me, his still glistening and semi-erect cock pointing right at me. It was still at least 9 inches.

"Morning Alan," Ike said with an amused grin. My pants were still around my knees from the night before, and my limp few inches were a sticky mess. He paused for a moment with his giant cock still pointing at me as I said good morning in return, and then he walked off toward the bathroom.

I looked over at my wife. She was laying on her back just as Ike had left her. Her legs were still parted and her pussy was red and shiny with Ike's cum and her own juices. Her hair was mussy and tangled where Ike's hands had been and she hadn't tried to smooth it, even though a few strands hung down over her face. Her breasts were red where Ike had sucked and mauled them all night, and her chest was still heaving softly from her recent orgasm. She lay unmoving and watched my face in silence as I pulled my pants back up and buttoned them.

When I was finished I looked back over at her. She raised her eyebrows and gave me a weak smile that was affectionate but tinged with sadness and disappointment, like the one a teacher might give a dimwit student who has finally gotten a not terribly hard math problem. I returned her smile and nodded.

Fran sat up and put her legs on the floor and stretched her neck and back a little. Ike emerged from the bathroom and got dressed without a word. He watched my wife and me glancing at each other as he put on his shoes. He seemed mildly amused at the awkwardness between us. That appeared to be the extent of his interest in the impact of last night on our marriage. He stood back up and bent over Fran and put his hand around the back of her neck, tenderly angling her head upward for a kiss. The kiss lasted a few seconds and elicited a faint moan from my wife as his hold on her neck tightened gently.

"I'll see you at the office Monday," he said in his deep low voice after the kiss ended. She looked him in the eyes, gulped softly and nodded.

"Alan," Ike said, turning to me and offering me his hand. I gave him mine and even though he didn't shake it very hard, my hand twinged with pain and my dick twitched in my pants. Those two sensations would return like a reflex every time I shook this man's hand in the future.

"Checkout's at noon. The room's paid up. Take your time," he said, not looking back as he walked out the door.

To be continued...