Oscar and Irene Pt. 05

As Matt's cock emerged from the confines of his silk briefs, the tip visibly swollen and a large trail of pre-cum dripping down towards his nuts, two things became immediately apparent. Firstly, we were no longer in need of the tape measure to ascertain which one of us had the bigger cock. My suspicions were aroused the first time I saw Matt fuck the crap out of my wife. They were confirmed when I tried to put his discarded condom on to my cock. Now as his impressive member continued to grow under my wife's tender ministrations, there was no doubt that he possessed the superior sexual organ, in length, girth and every other quantifiable measurement.

Secondly, whatever adolescent repression had shaped my wife's views on sex, was about to be shed, as she prepared, no anticipated, sucking her first cock. Her strict parents, the peer pressure from the Catholic High School that she had attended, the judging by the congregation at her local church, were all about to be thrown out of the window, as Irene embraced her new role, that of a cocksucker.

I would never have had the heart to call her out on it, such was the respect I had for my wife, and the institution of marriage. Matt, as her boss and lover, was not bound by such constraints, and was more inclined to call it as he saw it.

"I always thought your wife had the potential to be a submissive little cocksucker," he taunted me. "You just didn't have the balls to make it happen. Watch and learn as I make your bitch work for my load."

It was a kick in the nuts when Matt identified her as a cocksucker and a bitch, but I thought I saw pride in Irene's eyes, just before she lowered her lips to her boss' cock-head. I have no clue where she had learned some of the tricks that she performed on my boss. Certainly not from me, and to my knowledge I was her only lover thus far. In these days of YouTube tutorials, and free on-demand pornography, who knows. However, as she alternated between sucking his cock-head and nibbling his nuts, it was clear that she had some idea of how to give a blowjob.

Her soft, eager lips were in continuous motion as they glided across his genitalia, giving him a loving tongue-bath before coming to rest on his frenulum, where Matt's face contorted at the otherworldly stimulation, and Irene gave me a knowing glance to let me know that she was about to break his resolve.

Considering his stamina the previous night, my wife did break him fairly quickly. She had locked her lips on either side of his frenulum, and was stimulating it with the tip of her tongue. I watched as his abs tightened, which was a surefire sign that he was on the road to orgasm. He moved one hand from behind his back, wrapped her long red hair around his fist, and started to thrust his hips.

"Tell me when you are close, baby," she whispered to him, as she looked up at him adoringly.

I assumed that my wife was trying to avoid the additional stigma of eating his ejaculate, and was proud of her for doing so. A few moments later, my assumption was proven wrong.

"Oh, fuck, Irene," Matt cried out, "I am close."

As soon as my wife heard his words, she moved her lips over his cock-head and slowly closed them around it, as he continued to thrust his hips, effectively fucking her mouth. A few seconds later, Matt erupted into my wife's mouth with a loud moan, as she first struggled to contain his load within this orifice, and then tried to swallow it without gagging.

I watched with a combination of awe and revulsion, an unwilling witness to my wife's first blowjob. Some of his ejaculate spilled from the side of her mouth, leaking down her chin before dripping onto the front of her silk camisole. I think she must have swallowed the rest, because after Matt composed himself, he asked her to give me a sloppy French kiss, and there were just a few traces of his seed remaining in her mouth.

Matt watched us kiss and then gave my wife his next directive.

"Let's shower baby, get cleaned up for round two."