My Best Friend Dates My Wife Pt. 08

Adrian knew that I wasn't actually having sex with my wife. However, it really bothered him, that Sara would simulate the act with me to enhance my pleasure, as I fucked the pocket pussy. I loved the way she got me off. It was hyper-realistic, so close to the real thing, that with the bedroom lights dimmed, it truly felt like I was fucking my wife.

Adrian called Sara on it once. "Chris is taking liberties with the alternative sexual outlet, I have generously provided him. Things are going to change, in the very near future, if he keeps abusing his pocket pussy privileges."

I could sense that Adrian was jealous of me, which seemed utterly ridiculous, considering the lewd acts my wife regularly did for him. He managed to persuade Sara to spend one night a week at his place, in addition to "date night". This was really hard on me, and I would endure a very fitful night's sleep, knowing that he was defiling her in the grandeur of his beautiful home.

Unbeknownst to me, Adrian didn't spend every waking hour, having sex with my wife. They were more like a married couple, and would often enjoy a home-cooked meal together, or relax and watch Netflix. However, because Adrian is an asshole, he had a pretty elaborate routine that he put me through, designed to make me jealous. I basically had to prepare my wife for his enjoyment.

Anal sex was a given, on the nights that Sara stayed at Adrian's, or at least that's what they led me to believe. I had to go to the pharmacy and purchase an enema. Then, as Sara lay on her side, with one leg in the air, I had to insert the enema and squeeze the bulb. After a few minutes of privacy, in which she discharged the enema fluid, I had to run her a bath.

Sara would relax as I shaved her legs, washed her hair, and exfoliated her skin. Once she had got out of the bath, I dried her completely. Then I would apply moisturizer to her skin from head to toe, so that she was silky smooth for Adrian. The rest of her was already completely hairless, thanks to the regular waxing treatments Adrian paid for.

Shortly after her bath, Adrian's hair stylist and make up team would arrive, to get Sara prepped for him. He would text them his preferred nail color, and makeup style, depending on his mood. Then as they worked to beautify my wife, I would be banished to the bedroom, to pack her night bag.

I use the words "night bag" loosely, as Sara actually took three large suitcases to his house, for the one night stay.

I said to her one time, "Sara, you have packed more clothes for one night, than most people would pack for three weeks in Hawaii."

"I just never know what Adrian is the mood for," she responded truthfully, without realizing how painful this was for me to hear.

She would basically pack all of her lingerie, dresses, short skirts, high heels, pretty much everything she owned, that was sexy. Sara would leave her sweatpants, bedroom slippers, sweaters and all the boring stuff I saw her in regularly. As I also got to unpack the suitcases the following day, on her return, I noticed that some stuff never made it back.

"Are you leaving some of your clothes at Adrian's?" I asked her one day.

"I have my own room there baby," she said excitedly. "With my own huge walk-in closet! I decided to leave some stuff at Adrian's house, that I don't need here. Like my lingerie, swim suits and most of my short skirts."

"Why do you need your high school cheerleading uniform at his house?" I asked jealously.

"Take a guess, silly!" she responded with a giggle.

Her home wardrobe got more and more matronly, as most of her sexy clothes were at Adrian's. Also, she told me that Adrian had bought her lots of new clothes, and he was adamant that I never get to see them.

I never got to see Sara after the stylist and make-up team arrived. I would pack her suitcases, and lug them downstairs to the front door. Then I would wait quietly in my office. The limo would arrive at Adrian's appointed time and she was expected to be ready, which she always was.

Once Sara was in the car, the driver would honk the horn, and I would load her suitcases into the huge trunk. The limo driver would wait by the rear of the car, for me to emerge with my wife's suitcases. He was an older, out of shape, balding East European guy, so I did all of the heaving lifting.

I did get to know him over time, as we saw each other twice a week. Turns out he was from the Ukraine, working hard to support his family who were still living there. His name was Sergei, and he seemed like a nice enough guy. He did comment that the suitcases seemed lighter on my wife's return journey, which acutely embarrassed me. Also, I noticed after a few weeks, his attitude changed towards me. He was less chatty, and wouldn't look me in the eye. I never found out why, until a few weeks later.

As it turned out, my limo driver buddy Sergei, was the first man that Adrian gifted my wife to. When Sara shared her list of sexual limits with Adrian, he typed them out, had her sign them, and sent me a laminated copy.

He wrote "make use of your fridge magnets," as if he actually expected me to hang this fucking list on my refrigerator.

When I read the list of Sara's limits, they were shockingly minimal to me, and probably to Adrian too. It was an extremely short list, most of which didn't even need mentioning, they were so overtly taboo. I also noticed under the caption "safe word", Adrian had typed in large block letters, "NONE", with a smiley face emoji next to it.

One of Sara's very few limits was safe sex, if Adrian shared her. A few weeks after their candid talk, he did gift her to someone. It was his limo driver, the older, fat Ukrainian guy living in the USA, while providing for family, that were still in the home country. Sergei was celebrating his sixty-fifth birthday in a few days, a milestone that symbolizes retirement for most people.

Sergei was years away from being able to retire, and Adrian generously gave him a twenty-five hundred dollar cash bonus.

"Thank you, Adrian," Sergei said. "I am going to send this money home to my family."

"Aren't you tempted to keep two hundred dollars for yourself, and have a little fun?" Adrian asked.

The implication was either an erotic massage, or even an escort, and it was not lost on the old man.

Sergei responded, "My family need the money more than I do. Besides, I haven't had sex for two years, and I have stopped thinking about it."

Adrian thought about the ramifications of giving Sergei a birthday treat. He knew his driver could not have any sexually transmitted infections, if he had abstained from sex for that long. Also, as part of Adrian's health insurance for his employees, he had them all submit to an annual blood exam. The blood samples were tested for drugs and various serious illnesses, including HIV. Adrian checked Sergei's employee medical records, and determined he posed no health threat to Sara.

Then, on a whim, the same way that Adrian had decided Sara would have platinum blonde hair, he decided that she would be Sergei's birthday present. He knew Sergei thought my wife was hot. He had seen her wriggle out of her bridal panties, hand them to Adrian through the window of the Town Car, and then orgasm kneeling against the limousine.

As Sergei drove his boss home that night, Adrian gave him my wife's bridal panties. Sergei said that Sara was his dream woman, if he had been twenty-five years younger, and not married. Then he had asked Adrian if all American women were sluts! Adrian was very proud of his idea, and mused that my wife would make the perfect birthday gift for the old man.

When he told Sara, however, she was devastated.

"Why him, Adrian?" she cried. "Of all people, why would you give me to a sixty-five year old man?"

"For many reasons," Adrian responded. "Firstly, I know and trust this man implicitly. He has worked for me for decades, and I have never even seen him lose his temper. He will be gentle with you. I have his medical records and his sexual history. Sergei posts no health threat to you."

"In fact," he added with a laugh, "the biggest health threat, is of Sergei having a heart attack, when you suck his cock."

"Suck his cock?" Sara repeated with a disgusted look on her face.

"Sara," Adrian continued more firmly, "This act of submission on your part, doesn't violate your signed list of hard sexual limits. As a bonus, Sergei hasn't been touched by a woman in two years, so he should be a very quick ejaculator!"

"Adrian please, isn't there someone else who has a birthday coming up, or you owe a favor to? Maybe you could even barter me for something?" Sara said weakly, clutching at straws, as her voice trailed off.

"I have decided," Adrian said impassively, "that you are going to suck Sergei's cock for his sixty-fifth birthday present. Stop fighting the inevitable. Put your energy into planning what you are going to wear, to look adorable for this old man."

Sara was totally humiliated, to be given as a party favor by Adrian. However, this was tinged with arousal, at the prospect of being someone's birthday gift. She was just disgusted with Adrian's choice of the lucky birthday boy.

It wasn't bad enough that he was a fat, old, balding guy with limited English skills. In addition, Sara would have to see Sergei twice a week, after his birthday treat, as he drove her to Adrian's place and returned her in the morning.

Sergei had heard her, crying out in orgasmic bliss, against the side of the limo, as Adrian toyed with her outside her own house. Sergei had driven Sara and her husband to dinner on his birthday, and she had been unable to look him in the eye.

Sergei had seen Sara's husband carry her suitcases out to the limo. Sergei had witnessed him struggle to load the heavy bags into the trunk. Bags full of slutty clothes, so that his wife could spend the night, enticing her black lover. Sergei knew the intimate details of the sordid love triangle. He knew this slutty blonde was Chris' wife, and Adrian's concubine. And now Sergei was about to get a piece of the action. It just wasn't right!

Sara continued to object strenuously, and begged Adrian to choose someone else, for her first time as a party favor.

"Technically it's your second time" he corrected her. "I had already given you to the young college guy outside the bar that night. It was only your quick initiative that prevented things from escalating beyond a handjob through his pants."

"But that guy was an attractive college kid, not a senior citizen," she replied, still fighting the inevitable.

"Right now it's just a birthday blowjob, Sara. One more word, and I will allow Sergei to butt-fuck you," Adrian threatened coldly. "Don't test me."

Sara looked down at the ground in defeat, as she realized this was actually going to happen.

The words "yes Adrian. Whatever you want Adrian," reflexively emerged from her lips.

He smiled at her approvingly. "Thank you Sara, Sergei will love it."

Then closing the door on any future resistance, he told her. "Do your very best to give Sergei the birthday blowjob of a lifetime, baby. Drain his nuts until he can't get it up any more. The men I gift you to, can't all be handsome college guys."