Marriage Roulette

I was invited to the Ritz-Carlton suite my wife and her honeymoon fling shared the last two nights. I arrived at nine, right on the dot. They met me at the door, and I gave my bride a hug, but did not try to kiss her. She did not let me get away with it.

"Please kiss me honey. I need to know you're okay."

It was one of the most gratifying kisses of my life. Tongues fenced and another part of me perked up. Elke was with him in large part due to my encouragement, but I had never seen them together, if you know what I mean. That was why I was there.

After the reassuring embrace and kiss at the entry, Quill held out his hand to shake. I ignored it. I was anxious to see what I had never seen live, but I now had another reason that Elke revealed at dinner.

Without invitation, I moved to the couch and sat down. They followed, and we sat three abreast.

I had seen him, of course, while he danced and romanced my newlywed wife right into his bed three nights ago, but we had not spoken. She had returned to me that night, very late, and I heard her extoll his expertise and proportions while I made reclaim love. She spent the next two days with me, partly indulging in reclaim love, but her dancing 'dates' again led to his bed, and she had not returned the next two nights. I was anxious to meet the man who so enraptured my wife of just nine days.

Their invitation was the result of my groundwork from earlier in the day, and that wheedling and cajoling prompted the invite. My lunch meeting with Quill was step one, and it took no time at all for him to try to assert dominance.

He used his strength to intimidate when he gripped with considerably more than a firm handshake at the Lapidus Bar. That was just the beginning of his intent to intimidate, mainly by controlling the direction of the conversation, and It took a half-dozen pints before I had enough liquid-courage bravado to steer it away so I could make my request. He was not opposed, but said he would have to get Elke's approval first.

When Elke met us there after her spa appointment, she understood that my request for a dinner date did not include Quill. After my bride received a nod from her honeymoon lover, she accepted, but then added a condition. She wanted to spend her last afternoon in South Beach with Quill on the south beach. All three of us were going home the next day, so I agreed to her quid pro quo.

I pinned a corsage on when I picked up my 'date' at 'their' suite at six forty-five, and after we were seated at Pied a Terre, I did not even wait to look at the menu before I asked.

My bride smiled as she answered, "Quill and I would love to have you watch us honey."

That was my invitation to watch them together, if you know what I mean, and I thought it would happen right after I walked Elke back to 'their' suite after dinner. It did not, in large part because of something she said as soon as we started our walk back. I was upset, and she did not want me to see Quill like that. She kissed me at 'their' door before giving me the temporary brush.

"You need to calm down before you come in. You're way too upset right now, so I'll see you in just over an hour. Please come at nine."

I was calmer when they greeted me at the door, but not calm. Elke's dinner revelation on the way back was the reason I was still angry-amped, and the reason was only indirectly related to sex. As soon as we were seated three abreast, I laid down my hand with the cards face up. This was no time for antes and raises, and my voice strained to keep from cracking.

"Elke said you offered her a job Quill."

I studied his face for a bluffing tell. It was not there. He held my eyes.

"I did. In Denver."

I'm sure he could hear a dose of sarcasm.

"She does work hard. What would she do?"

"We didn't discuss her actual duties yet."

"I couldn't be that there was another reason, could it Quill?"

"That wasn't the only reason."

"It wasn't even a big part of it, was it?"

"No, I want to keep seeing your wife. We connect in so many ways."

There was more than a little sarcasm in my response.

"You think that tidbit might have been something I might like to have known when we talked?"

"You're right. I should have told you. I'm sorry Flint."

He held his hand out, but I ignored it again. I dished another plate of sarcasm.

"I understand. It's easier to let a wife tell her husband than to be a man and tell him yourself."

"She wanted to be the one to tell you." His smile held no warmth, "She also invited you here tonight to let you see why she is considering the job, but we do not have to let you watch."

That was an empty threat. He wanted me to watch because it was a way to intimidate. His eye contact was also intended to intimidate while he spoke, but it did not work.

He thought something else might intimidate better, and his eye lock with me continued as he unbuttoned and unzipped my wife's miniskirt. She lifted her ass enough for him to remove it. Out of the corner of my eye I could see she was pantiless, and I briefly wondered if she had been that way at dinner too. It was the same miniskirt.

His eyes remained on mine when he touched what her panties would have covered.

"It feels like you did."

His eyes, his voice, and his mannerisms led me to believe that he was still talking to me. If he was, I had no idea what he was talking about, so I ignored it.

Elke did not, "I did."

"Did it hurt?"

"A little, but he was careful."

"It will last a few days, but you will need to shave it regularly after that. How does it feel?"

I broke eye contact to look down. I understood. A man gave her a wax job in the spa, and they last longer than a shave. I decided the question meant for my bride could best be answered by her husband, so I held a shush finger to her upper lips and entered her lower ones with the middle finger of my other hand. Silky smooth, but also wet. Very wet.

I reestablished eye contact with him, "It feels great Quill."

Apparently, he did not like my question interception, and his attempt to intimidate continued. This time I did understand the words...

"Take your wife's top off for me Flint. I need to get undressed."

Despite being there for just that reason, I maintained the eye lock with him so he knew I was ignoring his demand. I wanted to watch them in action, but not at the expense of surrendering my self-respect. I did not move my hand away from her slick smoothness, nor my eyes from his, and I used two fingers to take advantage of her very wetness. I finger-fucked my wife, a back-at-you intimidation of my own. It was not enough to make Elke forget his demand, however, and she acted in my stead. She did as bid and removed her top.

I broke eye contact with my bride's honeymoon lover to look. He was as naked as she after quick removal of his only two items, and the reason I was on the couch with them was at hand. My primary arousal indicator kept moving toward the red zone.

My wife is a natural beauty of Swedish descent, and although I had seen her naked a thousand times, she had never looked more desirable than she did at that moment. Elke was a blonde, both top and bottom, but the basement carpet had just been waxed off, so proof was missing. Her green eyes reflected desire as she fixed a sultry gaze upon her lover, but it was also a gaze that reflected more. My bride was enamored, and the man she had known just three nights and one afternoon had no intention of amending her fawning adoration.

Her adoring eyes were not the only way that her desire was obvious. Her twenty-two-year-old, five-ten frame was truly hourglass, highlighted by D-cup breasts and a twenty-four-inch waist. Her body always induced arousal in men, but it was not usually flushed with her own arousal at the same time. It was now, and I had never seen the blips on her arousal radar screen blink so rapidly, and this was just the show-off undercard. There had not even been the passionate kiss that would traditionally indicate the bell had rung for round one of the main bout.

She had long fantasized about being naked in front of other men, and the reality must have overwhelmed the fantasy. Every one of her arousal indicators was already on high-alert status. She was flushed, her breasts heaved in concert with her rapid panting, a vein in her neck throbbed to the beat of her racing pulse, her nipples were fully engorged and enflamed, and her pussy exuded an over-abundance of oily secretion that wafted the scent of a woman in need.

Her lover's body was equally impressive. I am six-four, and he had me by at least a couple of inches and fifty pounds. He was muscle on muscle, his chest was hairless, his brown eyes matched his brown skin, his hands and feet were gigantic, and his cock was long, thick, black, and growing. Mine was already an adult, as big as it would ever get.

Since the day we met three years ago, I encouraged Elke to flaunt, and on that very first day, she admitted that she liked feeling the eyes of men on her. Elke's nature meant that my push toward flaunt was in the direction she wanted to go. Quill was obviously hiking the same trail, and he did not need a push to let me see them together, if you know what I mean. Quill was as proud of his body as Elke was of hers.

He did not know, according to Elke's whisper at dinner, that this was our inaugural foray into more than flaunting. Elke and I took each other's virginity shortly after we met three years ago, and neither of us had been with another person sexually. We had fantasized for a couple of years about it, and we both felt it fitting that her second man ever was also my bride's first infidelity. The fact that he was African-American, that he was big in all the right places, that she was unprotected, that he rode bareback, and that it was occurring on our honeymoon amped the illicit excitement by orders of magnitude. The cherry on top was that it would be my first time to see live sex.

My eyes were still admiring perfection, although not paying any attention to their eyes or faces, when Quill stuck his phone right in front of my eyes.

We made eye contact again, "I need something to remember."

She knew I wanted to see them, but a video was not in my thoughts until a glance into Elke's pleading eyes convinced me it was. She also wanted a video of them together, if you know what I mean, and Part A of the next installment of our honeymoon vlog started with them on the couch next to me. I kept the camera focused on them as they performed in that most pleasurable of all forms of entertainment.

After a short overture of passionate kissing and fondling both ways, he moved to his knees on the floor. It would be hard to call what he was doing 'muff diving,' because her 'muff' was missing, but he was 'where-her-muff-used-to-be diving'. I watched him munch on my wife's smooth, naked oyster and grapple her smooth, naked breasts while she spread one leg over the arm of the couch and the other over my leg. Her brand-new legal husband (me) stroked her thigh while he (me) watched her honeymoon 'husband' stroke between her thighs with a different tool.

After a few minutes, he repositioned so Elke's head was on my lap and her potential employer was at the end of the couch. He bent over the arm of the couch and she had one leg on the floor and one on the back of the couch when his tongue resumed its search for the pearl deep inside her smooth, naked oyster.

He found it.

Her natural pearl was situated at the top of her cleft, and he rolled it, flicked it, and licked it with obvious knowledge of my bride's primary arousal mechanism. His tongue's length matched the other protuberant object on his body, and it searched the rest of her oyster to insure there was not another pearl. It reached much further up into her cockpit than mine ever could.

She looked up at me, "Whatever he does honey ... he's so good ... oohh God...mmmm ... the best ... aaahhhh ... I love it."

There were none of the guilty sobs that I half-expected in her confession, but her body was hunching like it would have been if she was sobbing with grief. Her hunches also provided clues, and as their intensity increased, I knew she was getting closer and closer to the ultimate human pleasure experience.

I could see, hear, and feel when she crested. Her face scrunched into an expression of bliss, her moans, whimpers, and disjointed words reflected the intense pleasure, and the involuntary spasms shook her entire body so violently that I felt them all the way to her head resting on my lap.

"Oooohhhhh God yessss ... aaahhh ... unghh ... so good ... unghh ... unghh ... mmmm ... ooohhh God ... so ... unghh ... so ... aaahhh ... unghh ... unghh ... so ... unghh ... unghh ... oohhh God yes ... unghh ... yes."

Watching my wife come had always been one of my greatest pleasures, and my pleasure did not seem to diminish much when I was not the one causing hers, especially since I had never seen her come with the intensity or duration of the orgasm I just witnessed.

I knew I never had nor ever would give her pleasure like that she was receiving from her honeymoon 'husband,' and that was not only because I believed my eyes, it was also because of an assertion she delivered at dinner. After our salads, I knew bad news was coming when she held my hand and stared into my eyes while her cheeks dripped tears. Her words hit me with a sledgehammer to my ego...

"I'm sorry honey, but Quill gets me off like you never have. I don't see how you ever will."

Her teary-eyed confession had been matched by my own ego-crushing reply, and she looked surprised.

"I'm glad he's giving you so much pleasure babe. I can't wait to see it."

I was seeing it, and what I had just seen did nothing to contradict her dinner assertion, but rather it confirmed and emphasized the truth in her not-meant-to-be-mean declaration.

After her fuckquake, I stopped recording and handed the phone back to Quill. Her head was still in my lap, so I stroked her hair and watched Quill gently stroke other body parts while she recuperated. When she eventually sat back up next to me, he got off his knees.

When he stood, his Black Mamba stood as well, poised, and ready to strike. The dangerous snake protruded at an upward angle, its veins bulged, its mushroom head was wet and leaking, its shaft had to be at least nine or ten inches long and fat as a soda can, and it was visibly throbbing and swaying its danger threat. Elke was unprotected and probably fertile, and the Black Mamba was not going to be sheathed when it delivered its potent toxin deep inside her.

Quill handed me his phone again.

"Video again Flint. I want proof. Nobody will believe me."

That implied that he was not only going to tell his buddies, he was also going to prove it to them. WTF, we were already deep in shit, so I nodded.

She was still sitting next to me when I recorded another installment of my bride's honeymoon-adventure vlog. Part B of tonight's activities documented the repeated disappearance of his colossus inside her mouth from just a couple feet away. It was not long before the only evidence that he had an appendage down there was the movement of an apparently new Adam's Apple in her neck, evidence that the Black Mamba was being fully ingested by a larger predator.

He was directing, but his orders were frequently interrupted by his moans and grunts induced by Elke's expertise. I made sure to capture her nudity and her hand that was keeping her own moisture flowing down below.

He held her face by the ears and was thrusting powerfully down her throat when he arrived. It had not taken long, no more than a couple minutes. She recognized Quill's warning, and she pulled off by a few inches to allow the video to capture powerful spurts into her gaping mouth. He was not nearly as eloquent as she about his arrival.

"Unghh ... unghh ... unghh ... unghh ... yeah ... unghh ... unghh ... unghh ... unghh ... uunnngghhh."

She took the Black Mamba back inside to suck the last drops out, and it was at least a minute before she disgorged. She faced the camera and opened her mouth.

It was filled with white cream, and she swallowed it before opening her mouth again to show it was empty. She smiled and looked directly into the camera.

"I love the taste before and after he comes, guys."

She knew he was going to show his friends the video, and she wanted him to show her off at her most passionate and vulnerable.

I hoped they were not finished, so I connected his phone to the large-screen monitor. Sure enough, while we watched the playback of Parts A and B, their interest revived. By the time we watched and were reimpressed by his magnificent cum shot, they were ready for Part C.

I stood to give them the couch, which is where they started with reverse cowgirl. My wife's honeymoon 'husband' started the grilling of his honeymoon 'wife' as soon as his powerful initial thrust to the hilt was complete.

"What are we doing Elke honey?"

"We're doing it ... oohh God yes honey ... we're making love again ... I love it."

"Who's watching hon?"

She looked at the camera, "My husband ... oohh honey ... thank you."

I flipped into selfie mode and let the phone's video camera scan my face for a few seconds before switching back.

"Do you like how I fuck you, Elke?"

"I do ... I love it ... unghh ... feels so good."

The bully in Quill resurfaced.

"Better than Flint?"

Sometimes I wish she was not so brutally honest.

"So much ... oh god ... much better."

"My cock is bigger than his?"

"Way bigger... unghh ... but it's not everything."

"You like it when I tell you what to do?"

He was not trying to intimidate my wife, but he was exerting control. It matched her desire to cede control.

"I do ... oh honey ... I'll do anything you say."

It might have been a test, "Get on your hands and knees."

They changed to doggy, and subsequent, frequent position changes were apparently SOP for them. Regardless of position, he commanded, and she obeyed. The audio record soon became as significant as the visual record I was shooting.

"You like it when I show you off, don't you?"

"I do ... unghh ... unghh ... like last night."

I would have to ask about that later.

"Like right now too. You do like letting your husband watch me fuck you, don't you, Elke honey?"

"I do ... even more ... oohh God... than ... unghh ... alone."

"Do you want me to come inside your cunt honey?"

"Unghh ... I do."

"You want me to inseminate you?"

"Mmmmm hmmm ... I do."

"On your honeymoon, while your husband videos?"

"Yes ... yes ... I ... unghh ... do ... please."

"You want me to be the one to impregnate you instead of your husband?"

"I do ... I want ... ooohh yes ... your ... unghh ... baby ... unghh ... not ... unghh ... his."

My bride was voicing the fantasy we had both been aroused by for years.

"You want a black baby?"

"I ... I ... just ... unghh ... want ... unghh ... unghh ... your ... unghh ... baby."

They changed position, and he was on his back when Elke mounted. There was eye contact that transmitted more than lust from each of them.

"Everybody will know it isn't Flint's."

She looked at me, which was not much different than looking into the camera lens.

"I ... unghh ... want ... unghh ... them ... unghh ... to ... unghh ... to ... know."

She looked back into his eyes while wearing her rose-colored glasses.

"They will know you fucked a black man right around your wedding date if they match that with your baby's birthday."

"Nobody ... unghh ... unghh ... will ... unghh ... need to ... unghh ... figure ... unghh ... unghh ... I ... unghh ... will ... unghh ... tell ... unghh ... them."

Her moan-and-groan word rate matched his stroke rate, and as they both accelerated, her volume knob kept turning. It ratcheted another notch when Quill turned his head to look at me, and I was now the perp under the interrogation spotlight.