My Husband and His Rival

My Husband And His Rival Bet Who Was The Better Man-- And I Won

It was too late to stop now-- there was nothing I could do!  Here I was, climaxing on this guy's dick as he smugly thrust into me-- and my husband was right outside the door!  I had been tricked into cheating-- and I was loving it!

This isn't something I wanted, let alone tried to make happen. How did I end up in this here?  Let's start from the beginning-- all the way back, when bikinis had two pieces!  

In college my sorority sisters and I went to a beach themed fraternity party.  We all wore matching white string bikinis with our letters stitched in red on the left cup, strappy heels, and mesh sarongs (which didn't hide very much.)  The guys came shirtless in lettered trunks and flip flops, and most had whistles (so the girls could blow them, what cornballs!)  Late into the party I spotted a cute guy, but he wasn't in a frat.  While he was well built and rugged looking, he spent most of his time cloistered in the library, so at this beach he was a fish out of water.  I said hi (I may be in a sorority, but I'm not stuck up!)  We hit it off, we were both econ majors and had a lot in common.  As a freshman he didn't have a whole lot of experience with these kind of parties, so he was respectful and didn't try anything with me, which was really nice-- and weird!  

But I did have experience with these parties... All around us drunk people were hooking up with willing partners, and by that point I was pretty drunk and pretty willing.  While we were standing around chatting the bartender in red trunks (very cute, and we had been flirting a little earlier!) comes over to us holding two pitchers of beer.

"Could you hold this real quick?" He handed me the full pitchers.

"Ok ..." I said surprised, my coordination triply impaired by the beers I drank and the beers I was holding.

As soon as I had them, he leans in, cups my ass and kisses me!  I was so surprised I just went along with it!  I just stood there, high in my heels, a pitcher in each hand, making out with a guy whose name I didn't even know while people around cheered.  "Woah, okay then!" I said, breaking the kiss.

My poor fish out of water stood there with his mouth hanging open, not sure what he was allowed to feel, but certainly envious.  The bartender slapped him on the back jovially.  "Sorry buddy, house rules, she's too hot to keep to yourself!"  

He was at a loss for words.  "Um, no problem."

The bartender didn't hesitate.  "Well, if you're ok with it..."  And in a flash we were making out again, this time his hands sliding to my ribs!  I have to admit, he was a good kisser.  

"What do you say we get out of here?" he says, boldly snapping my top from the front.

Cocky bastard, right in front of a guy he probably assumed was my boyfriend!  I handed back the pitchers, "I'm sure there are a lot of other girls who would be happy to have your beer spilled on them."

He laughed and turned to leave.  "You better keep your girlfriend on a short leash, she's a wild one!"

My new "boyfriend" tried to be a good sport, but he was a little disoriented.  "It was just a kiss," I assured him, "it doesn't really count."  I made a little sexy pose and winked at him.  "You can't blame him for trying."

We spent the rest of the night talking about everything, it was like we were totally in synch with each other.  He even tried to impress me with a card trick, which was dorky, but still totally fooled me!  He was so handsome, and so sweet-- was I meeting the perfect guy at a party, of all places?  He seemed to be everything I could ever have asked for in man.  I had to remind myself to take it slow, I didn't want him to think this was some impulsive fling, like kissing the bartender, that I'd forget tomorrow.  I wanted him to feel what I felt.  I was actually thinking that that night could be the start of a beautiful relationship with a wonderful man.  And I was right.

I had only one regret from that night, and even though it doesn't have anything to do with him I still feel kinda bad about it.  I was young, tipsy, and-- you only live once, okay?  So we're trying to have a conversation, which was difficult with all the loud music, alcohol and half naked debauchery going on around us.  At one point we heard the sounds of sex coming over the music speakers and I figured someone was playing a porno as a joke, but I realized it was actually two real people somewhere at the party having sex!  The sounds were being played for the amused partiers.  After a minute I could tell the girl knew everyone could hear them, because she was hamming it up, squealing and cooing, talking dirty, telling him how big he was, how hard he was-- she was definitely playing the part of the drunk slut for the benefit of her unseen audience.  

It was hard for both of us-- well, him-- to concentrate on our conversation, especially after I told him she was one of my sorority sisters-- which she wasn't, I just said it to blow his mind.  So with that I excused myself to go to the bathroom, leaving him to enjoy the "bikini beach soundtrack".  I made my way past drunk and giggly girls and drunk and handsy boys, and past the guy at the top of the stairs who told me that the top floor was now a Caribbean resort and I had to give him my top. I dodged him and went down the hall, opened the door to the bathroom and-- oops!

There was the same bartender guy, naked, balls deep in some gorgeous brunette who was perched on the bathroom sink.  She had one long leg over his shoulder and the other wrapped around his pumping ass.  

"Oh--!" I said.

"Doesn't anybody knock?" she said in mock annoyance, then giggling, her big eyes never averting from his ripped and thrusting body.  Her pink bikini bottoms (the other Alpha sorority, of course!)  untied at both ends, were laying beneath his trunks on the floor.  I assume Caribbean Resort guy had her top because I didn't see it anywhere.

"I'm so sorry--" I repeated, backing out.  

"It's ok, sweetie," she said breathlessly, "you can come in,"

"Yes, sweetie," mimicked the guy, blatantly looking me over.  Typical guy!  "Don't mind us,  I'll just be over here railing this chick."

So what could I do? I peed, trying not to look at them.  Then-- what?  Was I supposed to wash my hands at the sink full of a sorority girl's ass?

I'm going to say I was drunk, that's what I'll say.  I'm not sure if that makes it better or worse.  But I just looked at her, glowing, moaning, lost in what the guy was doing to her.  That could have been me, I thought to myself.  If I had just let myself go with the flow... would that have been so bad?  

She was so open about it, unashamed.  Even proud to be watched, like she was performing.  It was some performance!  I stared openly at them as they showed off for me, each in their own way.  She turned her head upwards towards him and hooked her manicured fingers around his neck, gently pulling him towards her.  She snaked her tongue lustily into his mouth, pulling his ass into her with her supple calf.  She was showing me how she had sex, what it was like to be with her.  It was so feminine, so hot!  He... he spread her thigh open to show me his big dick, and winked.  Such a guy!  I rolled my eyes but smiled.  

"Come here," she casually offered.

"Oh no," I laughed, "this is your show." But I slid up to them anyway.  I slapped Bartender Guy's butt playfully.  "Come on, stud, fuck her, fuck her so she remembers it."

"Oh god, yes," she agreed.

I watched as she moaned, breathed, climaxed.  I don't know if it was the alcohol, or the effect of watching a man I had just kissed have sex with a woman I felt like I should kiss, but the whole thing just looked so-- right.  Two amazingly gorgeous people, stealing away together just to fuck, no pretense, no strings, no games.  What could be wrong about that?

I had a naughty thought.  "Honey?" I said to her as I slinked my hand beneath her ass to cup his heavy balls.  "What's this guy's name?"

For an instant she stopped squealing, and then rolled her head back in mock embarrassment.  "Oh my God, I have no idea!"

I smiled at him, sharing his amusement, and felt his dick and balls swell.  "You little slut!"  I teased her.  "Spreading your legs for some guy whose name you don't even know!"

"I thought he was cute," she said dreamily looking into his eyes.

"I think your boyfriend is rushing my frat," he said.

"Oops," she giggled and sighed at the same time.  "He better not, I know how you guys are around women."

I stood there, watching him pound her, drive his fat dick upwards into a pussy that didn't look like it could take it, but boy oh boy could it take it. I wondered how many other women he had fucked like this, and how many other men she had fucked like this.

Wickedly, I leaned in and whispered in her ear while slyly looking into his eyes.  She bit her bottom lip and repeated it.

"Wow, your dick is thick," she said.  "I don't think my boyfriend would approve."

"Fuck," he agreed.

"I can't believe you got your dick in me," she recited. "I'm a very bad girlfriend."

It didn't take much.  "I'm going to cum," he grunted.  Was it to me?  "I'm going to cum in this slut's tight cunt."  

"Oh fuck," we both said.

"I want to see it," I said excitedly.  "Cum on her, cum all over her!"

"I'm--"

"I want to do it!"  I said, I don't know what came over me but I grabbed his dick as he unsheathed it.  I jacked it in front of her, aiming it, all three of us staring down at the swollen head as it blasted forceful jets of cum over her spectacular body.

"Take that, you sexy bitch!" I shouted, hosing the horny coed with his semen.  He started growling as he stiffened,  gripping my ass for balance.Some cum shot high and hit her face, tracing down over her lips, and she squealed in surprise and delight.  I continued to stroke him as she made a show of licking it.  Either he hadn't had sex in a while, which I found impossible to believe, or he was really turned on by all this.  I loved feeling how hard he was in my hand.  I aimed further blasts at her beautiful tits, and she turned her head to look at me doing this to her.  Our eyes met, we were sharing a slo-mo totally ho-mo moment.  Then she rolled her eyes back into her head and came, just from our look.  I felt like it was me cumming on her, and I made more cum land on her ecstatic face.

Finally he was totally spent. "Fuck yeah," he said, admiring his conquest.

"Fuck yeah," I agreed, also spent.  He casually grabbed his camera off the counter and I reflexively went into sorority pose mode.  She and I leaned close and air kissed each other.  He'd be quite the stud showing the photo to everyone, a blonde in a string bikini kissing a smiling brunette with cum on her face and tits.  No big deal-- just another Friday night!

"Take a cropped one and send it to her boyfriend," I playfully suggested, popping off my top.

He smirked and took a few lips-down shots: my hand holding his big dick, my tits mashed into her arm, her cum covered body.  "Tease him it's his girlfriend!  He won't believe it!"

"You're so bad!"  she said to me, our lips smiling for the camera.

"I know," I said, "I can't help it!"  

I was still holding his now rapidly deflating cock.  He looked utterly drained, poor guy would need a week to recover from this.  "I'll leave you two to awkward silences!"  I said.  I felt too charged to put the top on immediately.  Clutching it in my hand and covering my tits with my arm, I ran to the door and stepped out, but then turned to face them.  I looked at them and wickedly sucked a finger clean.  Then I shut the door.

I did finally tell my husband about that night.  Well, that's kind of a lie.  About a year later we were discussing our sexual pasts and I told him this story.  But I pretended like it happened before I met him.  I didn't really consider it cheating because while they both had orgasms, I didn't.  That may not sound like a hard line but you got to make one somewhere! I only lied because I didn't think he'd handle it well if he knew it happened the same night we met.  No doubt he would have compared it to the chaste but hopeful peck on the cheek I gave him before he left,  obsessing on the chaste part and ignoring how much hope was invested in it.  But even thinking the story happened before him made him irrationally jealous, like I was willing to be more sexual with other men than with him.  That wasn't true.  From a certain perspective I guess it appeared that way, but it was only because those other guys didn't matter in the same way, and I didn't matter to them.  It's hard to explain.

 Anyway, a few years later we were on our honeymoon in the islands, and we were out on a deck, taking in the sun and the sea air.  Of course it was topless and I was a little nervous, but when in Rome...  

My new husband (it felt amazing to say that!) was getting us drinks.  So it was in this relaxed and exposed condition that I felt a strong, masculine hand gently touch my shoulder.  "Hey, Christey.  Love the shades.  Is your agent around?"

I knew who it was the moment I felt the hand: a topless girl will attract a lot of attention, but I didn't know anyone else who had the balls to just walk up to one and touch her.  So it had to be Jack.  Out here?  What were the odds one of his coworkers would show up on the island?  At this secluded deck near our cabana?

I had met Jack at the various office parties.  I was not at all attracted to Jack, but I couldn't deny Jack was a complete stud.  I probably shouldn't say that out loud, but that's what he was.  Standing in front of me bare chested, abs chiseled, muscles defined from MMA training.  And it was impossible not to notice the freely flopping beer can filling his otherwise baggy shorts, right at my eye level, while I lounged before him wearing nothing but a pink thong and a wedding ring.

Jack had a complicated reputation.  Like my husband, he was a young superstar who climbed quickly to partner; but unlike him, on the way up he had left behind him a trail of sexual devastation.  Receptionists, coworkers, the wives of coworkers-- if he wanted he unfailingly bed them.  He was an arrogant bully who treated men like shit and women like sluts, but no man would stand up to him and no woman seemed to want to.  Worse, he was a hugely important part of the company.  Even though many of the men were resentful of him, there was a collective sense that he deserved his success, not to mention "all that pussy" (of course, they didn't know that included their own wives.)  I guess many of the women quietly thought the same.

His ego finally got him into trouble.  He kept pushing the board to do a takeover of another firm,  both out of a desire to cross the others, with whom he was at odds in other work issues, and also because of the veiled criticisms he made in his speech, but mostly because he wanted a promotion, hoping the takeover would make him a lot of money and earn for himself all the glory.  His ego was already overinflated by being a quasi-celebrity to the lower employees who had only heard about him anecdotally, and this led him to overindulge his tastes beyond what his income would bear, in cars and in the rest of his expenses; and later on this had more than a little to do with the bankruptcy of the company.  Most of the senior managers were alarmed at his ambitiousness, and how much license he took with the job, his life and habits, and... the female employees, and the bulk of them saw him as wanting to make himself CEO and so became his enemies.  And although in his public life his handling of the job was as good as anyone could have ever wanted, in his private life his behavior enraged everyone, and caused them to give promotions to others less able, to the ruin of the company.  Eventually he went to work for their main competitor.  I'm sure he did very well for himself.

Jack was not the kind of guy my husband would have been friends with, but he tacitly respected Jack's act-on-what-you-want attitude. I don't know about the boardroom, but as for the bedroom I had often tried to argue that Jack's success wasn't something to admire, it required him to be callous and unempathic, oblivious to any resistance or hesitation from the woman.  "You're not going to understand this," I said, "but sometimes a woman feels like she has to go along with it.  If it gets to a certain point, she feels obligated to submit."  I was right, he didn't understand this.  He thought women could always do what they wanted, which in this case was what Jack wanted.  

But respect wasn't the only thing that drove my husband to maintain friendly relations.  He got a perverse enjoyment from being around Jack because of me.  My husband knew that Jack saw me as just another of the many trophy wives that would fall into his bed-- except that, try as he might, I didn't.  Sorry, bub, the only man I want I marrying.  That rejection pleased my then fiance so much that he tolerated Jack's increasingly bold flirtations.  If we were at a party and he saw me talking to Jack he wouldn't interfere at all, he wouldn't even glance in our direction; meanwhile Jack took full advantage of our time to ply me with flattery or provoke me with manipulative complements, all of which I parried by reminding him I had a fiance, and right over there, and that there were plenty of other women who would adore his attentions.  Of course, Jack assumed he just needed to get me away from the "giant cock blocker over there...." (yes, I got it!)  

God knows I never would have gone out with him even if I single, his cockiness and smug superiority totally turned me off.  But if you knew how to handle him he could actually be quite fun to be around.  He was undeniably attractive, and I admit I was flattered that the man who was known for bedding beautiful women wanted me.  He was charming and funny, and despite his cockiness was never pushy with me or made me feel uncomfortable.  I found I could let my guard down, even flirt a little (it's fun!) and he wouldn't overestimate it.  So I played the part of the curious but honorable fiancee and just as playfully shut him down when it got too hot.  Jack's ego never suffered, I'm sure.  He was man enough not to take the rejection personally, even if I sometimes meant it personally.  Meanwhile, each time Jack flirted with me, my husband  saw it as another championship match for the trophy wife which he kept winning again and again.  Undefeated-- against his single rival.  

Perhaps because my husband never directly confronted him,  Jack even began to tease my husband a little, letting him know that it was only a matter of time before he got me out of my clothes.

I rolled my eyes when I heard his fantastic predictions of my complicit nudity.  And yet now he was standing above me, grinning broadly, while I was topless in a pink thong that served no other purpose than to prove I was naked.  For years he had been eyeing my breasts, and now they were fully displayed for his enjoyment.  What was I supposed to do?  Wouldn't it have been weirder to cover up?  Thank God I was wearing sunglasses, it made me look way more self-assured than I felt.

Beyond nervous, I stood up and did that thing where you overcompensate pretending to be excited to see a person in a new context.  "Oh my God, Jack, how are you!  When did you get here?"  By reflex I greeted him with an awkward bent-over hug, careful to make sure our hips didn't touch, but the result was my naked tits swayed against his bare chest.  Oops.  His one hand slid to the small of my back, and then lingered at the edge of my thong.  I quickly lay back in the chaise, but of course not putting on a shirt only made it look like an invitation, which he took.  He perched himself on the edge.

"I had no idea you were here until the desk told me you were on your honeymoon.  Congratulations, I'm sure you've made him a very happy man.  Here, let me help you with that."  He took a nearby bottle of sunscreen and began to rub it into my already glistening, well lotioned calves--  exactly as my husband came out to the deck.  I froze.  What should I do?  I saw his eyes momentarily widen as he tried to process what he was seeing, but he otherwise didn't react and maintained a poker face as he continued walking casually towards us.  So I nervously did nothing, and passively let Jack continue rubbing my legs.