My Fiancee Takes An Older Man


I knocked and knocked. Several times and yet there was no answer. I grabbed my mobile and dialled her number at once. It rang and rang. There was fury growing inside now. If she ignored me completely...

She answered, giggling. "What is it?"

"Can you let me in please?" There was sarcasm to my manners. "I'm standing at the front door and someone's put a key in the door."

She laughed. "Yes, we're not long finished."

I hung up and waited patiently for close to a minute. It was him who opened the door and allowed me into my own home. He was wearing only his trousers. There was an awkwardness between us. He was the quiet type at the best of times and I was utterly lost for words myself. I bore him no animosity. It was my fiancée who had changed the rules.

She wasn't in the living room. I walked through to the kitchen, also empty, and finally into the conservatory where I could only stand and stare at her sitting naked on a sofa, with her legs closed together but not crossed.

"What if one of the neighbours looks over the fence and sees you like that?" I said.

"Don't be silly," she replied, and looked at my wet clothes. "No one would be out in that weather." He entered the room and sat beside her, putting an arm around her. "Besides, he likes me like this."

He nodded. "Absolutely."

It seemed instinctive when she leaned into him, his arm wrapping around her even tighter. It didn't matter if I was there or not, when he was in the house she was his. I couldn't explain why the image aroused me, despite my anger.

I sat opposite and watched them, dying to ask a dozen questions. For some reason, I couldn't. Not while he was there. I was embarrassed. In fact, I was ashamed to. He had assumed ownership of my wife-to-be and I felt under his authority.

"You'd love to know what we did, wouldn't you?" She was calculating in her taunting.

I felt so humiliated, and yet I admired her cunning.

"Wouldn't you?"

They were both watching me, his hand caressing her right breast. I looked to the floor.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you."

She whispered something to him. It was drowned out by the rain beating against the conservatory roof.

"Look at her," he ordered, though his voice was calm and not very loud.

I could feel my face redden as I looked up. "Yes," I said.

"Yes what?" she demanded.

"Yes, I would like to know what you did while I was out."

"Like?" he asked.

I was silent.

"He asked you a question, answer it or you'll be sent out again." She had such a dominant tone to her voice that I dared not tempt her again.

"I would love to know what happened." I knew how incredible she could be in the bedroom. We had enjoyed years of mind-blowing sex. When she wanted to turn a man on, her efforts were incredible. That she had been alone with him was both destroying and making my night.

"Well..." She parted her legs and slipped two fingers into her pussy. "Mmmmm." I wanted her pussy there and then. "Oh..." There was something glistening when she pulled her fingers out again. "This is his cum." She stared at me, neither offering nor implying an apology. "I let another man cum in my pussy."

I was seething with anger, staring at her fingers and doubting first my eyes, then her words. This was something we had agreed with each other would not happen. It didn't matter that we knew he had had the snip. It was a step too far. I could live with him fucking her. I could enjoy it. But not this. I watched her rub his cum into her pussy lips. My head was spinning, my heart pounding and every inch of me awash with nerves. The cruellest of betrayals and yet my balls were aching, such was the magnificence of my arousal.

"Jealous?" she asked.

"Yes," I admitted.

She laughed, crossed her legs and kissed his chest. "I think this is going to be a regular thing."

"I hope so," he said.

She ran her hand down to his crotch. "Oh my God, you're hard again." The reaction on her face promised she was enjoying herself, that she was more than comfortable and that she was happy. I couldn't help a part of me being grateful for that. No matter what had happened, I had been encouraging her for months. She looked at me. "Go pour yourself a beer."

I did as I was told and entered the kitchen. I opened a tin and was pouring it into a pint glass when I looked at the window, viewing into the conservatory. I could see her pulling down his trousers. The glass filled with more beer as I watched her take his cock into her mouth. I doubted it was the first time that evening.

When I finished pouring I rushed back into the conservatory. She looked at me as she held his cock an inch from her lips. "Who told you that you could watch?"

"For fuck sake," I said. I was no longer in the mood to be out of the room. I wouldn't let her force me to leave again. Enough was enough.

"Let him watch," he suggested.

"Do you mind?" she asked, wanking his cock slowly and treating him as lord of the manor.


"Okay," she looked up to me, "you can sit over there, but no interruptions. I'm going to give my boyfriend a wonderful blow job and nothing is going to get in my way."

I sat on the chair on the other side of the room. My head was repeating her reference to him as her boyfriend. I both loved and hated the idea. Desired and despised. It was as wonderful as it was worrying. I watched, breathing in a fantastic view of her ass as she bent over on her knees to take him deep into her throat. I could see some of what she was doing, but not all of it. The rain beat harder on the roof, droning out his moans.

She pulled her mouth away from him for a split-second. "Your cock is so fucking beautiful." I knew she was saying it as much for my ears as his, teasing my love of dirty talk. She put it back in and sucked up and down for several seconds, then licking the shaft down to his balls and back up again. "The head is so big."

I wanted to masturbate as I watched. I felt unable to open my jeans, as if I would be causing a scene or doing something wrong. Logic was not something which was rooted in that room and the beer was doing little to dampen the effects of her slutty acts.

"I can't wait til you cum in my mouth."

I noticed she was playing with her pussy with her free hand, the juices evident. Were they hers or his or both? Her tongue was all over his balls.

"I'm gonna swallow every drop and clean you up after."

I wanted to come behind her and fuck her pussy hard as she returned to sucking his cock. I was desperate to, but the rules we had set in place beforehand were clear. This was her night of one-on-one sex with him. A threesome was out of the question. I was out of the equation.

"If you were my husband I'd do this to you everyday."

He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her down hard onto his cock, fucking her mouth in a way that would normally have me in her bad books. She took it all like a brazen slut. He grunted and then his body appeared to spasm. I was frozen on the spot. Across the room, shielded from my vision by my fiancée's mouth, he was shooting load after load of his cum into her. True to her word, she guzzled it down. I was lucky if she did this to me once every couple of years.

"That was incredible," he said, as she slowly licked all around his shaft and particularly his head. "You're amazing."

He allowed himself only seconds of composure before he stood up, lifted her onto the sofa, spread her legs and dived face first into her pussy. She threw her head back and squealed. When we had been swinging with him and his wife in the past this was something he had a particular passion for. It was something my fiancée said he was great at too. His tongue licked up and down her lips, he complemented her taste, and rested eventually on her clit. He added his fingers, first to her clit, then to her insides. Her moans escalated.

I was terrified of someone outside hearing and turned on the stereo. Neither he nor her appeared to notice. Or care.

She ran her hands over his head and pulled him tighter. Her eyes were shut, her body close to shuddering at his mercy.

"You've no idea how good that is," she said.

He seemed to renew his pace with her encouragement, refusing to settle for good.

"Oh my God, keep doing that... Fuck..."

She gushed as his fingers pounded her pussy. He lapped up her juices. I knew what it was like to be between her legs worshipping her and to experience someone else doing that to her, and doing it so well, was incredible.

"Fuck, you're the best I've ever had," she said.

I looked at her face and she was staring back at me. She was smiling, knowing I would never forget a word she said. That they would bounce back and forth in my head and that no matter whether they hurt me or not, they would force my cock to its hardest.

"I wish you could do that to me every night."

She had to bite her lip as her body jerked under the pleasure, gushing again. She tried to force her eyes onto me throughout the moment, but his momentum carried her forward. His fingers were driving into her at a phenomenal speed. My wife-to-be wasn't just sharing herself with another man. She was sharing one of the greatest experiences of her life.

I lost count of the number of times she gushed with overwhelming ferocity. Each time she would try to hold my stare. Each time she would surrender to the superiority of his touch.

"Keep... Doing... That." Her body was beginning to shake. "I'm... Gonna... Cum." Her orgasm was earth-shattering, her naked form bouncing over the sofa and held down only by his grip on her thighs. She tried to pull away from him. He held her in place and teased pleasure beyond her limits. "No, please."

He gave a final lick of her pussy and released her. She collapsed onto the sofa and curled up, her hair a mess, her eyes glazed. He touched the back of her knee and ran his hand up to her ass cheeks. She began to shake again and pushed him away. New boundaries had been broken.

I had anticipated her needing a hard fucking after her orgasm, as was so often the case in our relationship. This time was different. She was spent. I turned the music off.

"That was amazing," she said after a couple of minutes, flipping onto her back.

"I know," he said, and pulled her up into his arms. They shared a long, passionate kiss.

I watched my naked wife-to-be in the arms of a naked man, listened to them complement each other some more and struggled to sit still. I had never needed release more in my life. I felt like a young teenager experiencing arousal for the first time, fighting the most desperate of urges to be alone.

"I need the toilet," I said, and walked out of the room. Although it was tempting to jerk off over what I had witnessed, I was lying and only pretended to leave. I closed the living room door to the stairs and crept back to the kitchen, eager to discover their secrets.

There was silence for 20 or 30 seconds, broken only by a couple of smooching sounds.

"I really got off on humiliating him."

"I hope he's okay," he said. "I wouldn't want there to be any animosity between us."

"He should be okay. He wanted me to do it."

"Did he know you were going to send him to the pub?"

She laughed. "No, I told him I'd send him upstairs for a while or take you upstairs and make him wait down here. He was up for that, but I didn't think he'd be able to help himself from joining us."

"You are so beautiful," he said. There was another kiss. "You'll have to come down to my house next time."


"Do you think he'll allow you?"

"I'll come down whether he allows me or not. If he says no I'll just tell him I'm going to a friend's house."

Despite everything I had experienced, this threat was something which still struck me unexpectedly. She was treading a dangerous line between game and affair. My cock ached.

"I don't mind him watching," he began, "but I'd love to have you on your own again. That was the best part of the night."

She giggled, saying nothing, then I heard kissing noises.

I was preparing to sneak back to the living room and abruptly open the door to upstairs when she broke the kiss and asked him, "Do you want to take a photo of me on your phone?"

"Yes." No hesitation.

"Then do it. Quickly, before he comes back."

I panicked. I didn't think I wanted him to have a picture of my fiancée. Especially as she was naked. What if he showed it to someone else? My fears were clouded by a selfish desperation to see the pose. I was caught in the moment. There was no time to interrupt.

"Spread your legs," he said. "Beautiful."

I surmised she was likely allowing him a close-up of her pussy. She couldn't be identified that way.

"Smile," he said.

I heard the camera click and it was too late to do anything to stop them fulfilling my betrayal. He would possess a part of her now. I would never know exactly what the picture portrayed, but my imagination was running wild. The fact she was told to smile revealing the final composition of the pose.

"Stay as late as you can," she said. "He's going to want me to tell him everything that happened while he was away and I'm too tired for it tonight."

"If I stay any longer, I'm going to want to fuck you again."

My humiliation was complete. My hands were trembling. My cock and balls aching for release. For her. Was this the beginning of an addiction? Was it mine or hers? What I had started was now out of my control. My arousal only distilling further confusion in my feelings. I honestly didn't know if I genuinely enjoyed or disapproved of what had happened. I feared the come down. The potential regrets when I finally achieved my release.

I heard them embrace again. "Don't tempt me," she said.

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