She Says She Loves MebyLynnGKS©
My name is Buddy Carlin and I'm laying here in my king sized bed watching my older brother Tom, fuck my wife. They're right next to me and he's pounding away like a stud and she's gruntin and sweatin and talkin dirty. She says she loves me, but she's been fuckin Tom regular for months. I'm laying here bouncing up and down in the bed waiting for him to finish her off and remembering how it all got started. It's a complicated story, but I re-live it in my mind every time I watch them fuck.
My brother Tom and I grew up in San Diego and graduated from USC a year apart with majors in computer technology and minors in business. Then Tom and I both took a big risk. We got jobs with a young, developing tech company making almost no salary but getting lots of stock options.
The company had an IPO after a couple of years and our stock options really paid off. I was able to marry my college girlfriend, Trish, and buy a really nice house in the suburbs with a pool and hot tub and a nice exercise room.
Tom bought a condo in a luxury complex and we saw a lot of each other both at work and in our off hours. Tom had a long time serious relationship with Janice, a gal he met in college. Janice worked at the Walker Art Museum and bounced back and forth from San Diego to London working on a Masters degree in Art History. Presently she was there for six months finishing her degree. Tom and I and Trish were spending a lot of time together while she was gone.
My marriage was great except for one thing. When I fucked Trish I had an orgasm before she did and then I wasn't much use to her with a droopy dick. But we got along pretty well with me eating pussy and her using her vibrator. She had some really good orgasms – or so I thought at the time.
Besides, Trish always said that "orgasms are over-rated" and she could never see why some of her girlfriends talked so much about the orgasms they had with certain guys. She had had sex with two or three guys in college and never had orgasms with any of them, so she had good reason to think the whole thing was over-rated.
I had looked up my endurance problem on the net and found out it was called "premature ejaculation." Knowing what it was didn't help very much because it was still frustrating for me not to be able to fuck Trish long enough to make her come.
Trish was a very horny woman and what happened, in retrospect, was really not very surprising. Tom was over at our place one Saturday night for dinner and afterward we smoked a lot of pot and had a lot to drink and decided to get in the hot tub – naked of course. We had been naked in the hot tub before, but somehow that night was different because we were all three really stoned out of it.
Trish is a beautiful woman with big boobs and great legs and sun-bronzed skin except where a tiny bikini left her creamy white. She has the kind of thick, curly-haired beaver that most guys like to eat. Tom and I are both six-two with good muscle tone, hair on our chests, and we are both reasonably well hung.
That first time he fucked her I know it was completely accidental. It was due to a combination of things: the booze and the pot and the fact that Tom was horny because Janice had been in London for a month. Trish was horny because I hadn't eaten pussy for several days and I simply lost control of myself. The first time may have been accidental, but from then on it was Trish's idea.
Now, months after he started fuckin her, I'm laying here in bed watching them fuck and remembering back to that first time. We had gotten out of the hot tub and laid on the big soft mat next to the tub. Trish was jiggling her tits and flashing her bush, and spreading her legs. She was laughing and moving around a lot giving us a great view of her body and I saw Tom staring at tits and pussy just like I was.
All three of us were laughing and joking and drinking and Tom was filling us in on how Janice was doing in London, but he kept staring at Trish's body. I wasn't really thinking about Tom – I was thinking about fucking Trish. She was turning me on. When Tom's story about Janice was finished, I started to get a hard on.
Trish saw it and reached over and pulled me close and spread her legs. She was just having fun. It was as much my fault as hers or Tom's because I should never have fucked her in front of Tom. That was an open invitation for him to enjoy sloppy seconds. I should have known that Tom would fuck her because he was horny from missing Janice.
But the booze and the grass must have gotten to me, because I climbed into the saddle and in about two or three minutes, like always, I had pumped my load. I was satisfied but, of course, Trish was not. She was still laughing and kidding around.
Trish rolled me off of her and when I looked at Tom I saw that he had a firm erection, standing straight up – almost quivering. She was as drunk and stoned as I was and, without a pause, laughing, Trish grabbed his hand and pulled him over between her legs, her knees high in the air.
"Do me," she said. She had a big smile on her face. She was expecting a laughing, friendly fuck. Trish and I had never done any swinging but I could see her thinking that, after all, Tom was my brother so let him get his rocks off.
It was a casual thing – nothing special – she was just stoned and happy and wanted to fuck some more and Tom had an erection and I didn't. But what happened turned out to be a big surprise for both Trish and me. It turned out to be far more than a casual fuck. It was a fuck that changed both our lives.
He slipped that big dick into her easily. She was wet from me, and her own secretions always made her pussy drip. He started to fuck her hard – much harder than I usually did.
I watched him pound her, with the hazy semi-consciousness from the booze and pot. Tom supported his weight on his hands and just pounded away. Trish had her legs spread wide and her feet high in the air, bouncing to the rhythm of Tom's powerful thrusts. He just kept on pounding her – steady and non-stop like a steam hammer.
The look on her face changed from a stoned smile to a look of surprise. She looked over at me, with an expression that said, "What the hell is this?" and then she looked back up at Tom's face. This was definitely not the fuck that she had expected, but it must have felt good because Trish closed her eyes and in a few moments she began humping eagerly.
It was hard to judge time because I was stoned, but it had to be a long time - maybe ten or fifteen minutes. When would he finish? I wondered. Trish was just laying there and taking it. How long can he keep on pounding her like this? As this hazy thought went through my stoned head, Trish groaned, dropped her feet to the mat to get better leverage, and began to pump her ass really hard.
Trish had never pumped like that for me with her feet down for leverage. She had never grunted either but now she was grunting loudly - animal grunts – grunting like a whore every time she took that big cock deep. Her eyes were clinched tightly shut and her face was a mask of lust and pleasure. I had never seen her this way in all our married life. Then she began to talk and mumble incoherently.
"Oh God – fuck me – Ahhh - fuck me hard – Ohhh – Arrr - don't stop – do me – I need it – do me - make me feel it! Fuck me deep!"
Trish never talked dirty when we fucked or even when I ate pussy. This was something completely new and different. Watching it was starting to sober me up.
Both of them were sweating now, even though the air was cool. I could hear their sweaty bodies slapping together as he fucked her. She was fucking back, matching him thrust for thrust, with her feet on the floor allowing her to lift her ass high in the air to take that big dick deep.
Watching them fuck this first time, listening to her grunts, I realized that he was doing something to that pussy that I could never do and, as I watched, I had the scary feeling that he was gonna enjoy that pussy again. No way could I ever fuck her like that – the way she obviously wanted – needed - to get fucked. My little two-minute fuck was never gonna satisfy this horny bitch ever again.
I moved closer and laying there supported by my elbow I watched, inches away, in a stoned daze, as his cock plunged in and out of her. I could hear the wet squishy sounds that a horny pussy makes when it's getting what it needs. I could see and hear his big balls slapping her in the ass.
Then after another few minutes – by now it had to be over fifteen minutes – Trish's body started to tremble and she arched her back to lift her tits up to Tom's hairy chest. She took a deep breath and held it, and I knew she was starting her orgasm. I had always given her gentle, soft orgasms when I ate pussy. But this was a far more powerful and violent orgasm than anything I had ever seen her have. Her whole body seemed to react to the contractions of her pussy.
Tom's rhythm changed too and he pounded her even harder than before and now Tom started to grunt and then I saw his balls lift up high and tight in his scrotum and the base of his cock began to contract rhythmically as he pumped his load deep into her pussy. I realized that her contracting pussy must have stimulated him to have his orgasm at just the right moment to please them both.
He pumped for a very long time – it was a massive load - and then they became still and silent as he collapsed between her legs. They held that position for a full minute, then both let out big sighs and Tom spoke as if to no one in particular.
"Jesus! That's good pussy."
Her eyes still clinched tight Trish held his face in both hands close to hers and said, "Oh God! Thank you!" She kissed him long and hard.
Then Tom rolled off of her, his cock soft and dripping, and both of them lay on their backs with their eyes closed, breathing heavily. Trish lay panting, with one leg stretched straight out on the mat and the other spread, knee bent, so her pussy was clearly visible. I watched a large stream of thick, creamy cum run slowly out between her engorged labia, down over her asshole, and drip off, forming a puddle on the mat.
Her pussy was spread wide. Tom had used it hard. Her inner lips were engorged and hanging out, loose, and they were covered with a foamy mixture of Tom's cum and her own copious secretions. His sticky cum was spread over both her inner thighs and soaked the curly rim of black hair that came down on both sides of her pussy from her beaver and circled around between her pussy and her asshole.
I had eaten that pussy many times when it was clean and tight. I had read on the Internet that some guys liked to eat a freshly fucked pussy. But, no way could I do that now. Looking at that big, gaping, engorged, dripping pussy, the thought was repulsive!
I will never forget how she had thanked him, how he had pounded that pussy like he owned it, how her orgasm was bigger than anything I had ever given her. I remembered how she had pumped her ass and I knew that something very special had happened that had changed our relationship forever. Where would this thing go? I lay there, helpless, and wondered.
We three lay without talking for almost a half-hour and then, still not talking, we soaked briefly in the hot tub to wash off the juices, climbed out, toweled off, and walked into the house. There simply didn't seem to be anything to say. Trish and I went into the master bedroom and Tom went into the guest room and we all went to sleep – "passed out" might be a more accurate way to describe it.
The next morning when Trish and I woke up, Tom had already left.
We had coffee in the breakfast room – still not saying anything. Finally, as Trish poured our second cups of coffee, she spoke softly.
"I'm sorry Buddy. I was just laughing and having a little fun. Then the booze and the pot did something to me and then I did something ugly and dirty. I really don't know why I did it - but it won't happen again. I promise, darling, it will never happen again."
I didn't answer her. I knew it was as much my fault as hers. I had started the sex. She had continued it, almost innocently. But then Tom had given her something she'd never had before – something that I could never give her. How the hell, I asked myself, could I ever give her sex like that?
It wasn't Tom's cock – mine was as big as his. It wasn't his masculinity – my muscular build and chest hair were as good as his. It wasn't his energy - I could jog five miles as fast as he could. But he had SEXUAL stamina – a stamina that I could not match. He lasted as long as she needed him to last to give her satisfaction. What the hell good was a little two-minute fuck compared to what he gave her for over a quarter of an hour?
As these thoughts went through my head Trish repeated, "It won't happen again. I promise. I love you Buddy. I promise!"
Wednesday afternoon I came home early from work. As I entered the house from the garage, it was very quiet. Trish was not in the kitchen and I stood for a moment listening. She must be out, I thought. Then I heard a low humming sound. I walked toward the master bedroom and the sound got louder.
When I looked through the door I saw Trish on her back in bed, stark naked, knees up and legs spread wide, holding her largest vibrator in her right hand buried half way into her pussy and playing with her tits with her left hand. She was humping her hips and fucking herself vigorously with the vibrator, working her thumb on her clit to transmit the vibrations.
She was grunting obscenely like she had grunted with Tom. Her eyes were clinched tightly and she was panting through her wide-open mouth as she worked for her orgasm. Her skin glistened with sweat. Jesus! The bitch was thinking about fucking Tom. She had to be. I'd never found her doing this before.
I turned and went quietly back to the garage and drove away. She wanted to fuck him! She was gonna fuck him! Promise or no promise she was gonna fuck him. She was living a fantasy now, but I was gonna watch that fantasy happen for real in three short days.
The next Saturday night there was a tension in the air. We went to dinner at a popular restaurant and when we got back to the house we went out on the patio for a drink. Tom told us another story about Janice. Then there was a long, uncomfortable silence.
Trish broke the silence. "Hot tub anybody?"
"I thought you'd never ask," he said.
We stripped and got into the tub and we all got very quiet. It was like we three were in a trance. We drank and smoked, silently. Not a word was spoken, but the air was thick with tension. We all felt it. I could see in her eyes that she wanted to fuck him. It was lust! Pure unadulterated lust! The longer we soaked in the tub, the more she wanted to fuck him. Her eyes sent him that message. And he sent the message back.
We got out of the hot tub and onto the mat. Not a word was spoken, but just like the first time, she pulled me close. Only this time she was very serious – not giggling and smiling - and I was so nervous that she had to stroke my dick to get me hard. She did, but she was looking at his eyes, passionately, while she stroked my cock.
She pulled me between her legs and I started to fuck her. I made up my mind that this time I would hold my orgasm as long as I could. I tried to fuck her hard like I saw Tom do her. I felt my juice rise and tried my best to hold it back – I tightened myself as much as I could but it kept on coming - it was hopeless.
It was less than two minutes before I pumped my useless load into a friendly, but never passionate, pussy. It seemed her eyes never left his, even when she was fucking me. It was degrading to become aroused and ejaculate helplessly when I knew it was Tom she really wanted to fuck – but I couldn't help it.
Just like the first time, she pulled Tom between her legs and he pounded that pussy like he owned it. This time I looked at my watch and it was well over fifteen minutes before Trish had another big orgasm and said, "Thank you" and then kissed him.
Except for the "Thank you" the whole thing was a wordless exercise – almost a sexual ritual. This was not casual sex – this was serious fucking. There was no conversation afterward between Trish and me in our room. Tom left before we got up the next morning.
But, unlike the first time, at breakfast coffee, Trish didn't say she was sorry and she didn't say it wouldn't happen again. And that was good, because I knew that it was going to happen again. She needed it.
The next Saturday night we went to a movie that all our friends were talking about and on the way home we laughed and joked about the sex scene in the movie. My mind went fast forward to the sex scene I was about to witness when we got home. Tom filled us in on Janice's progress in London. We went out on the patio to have a drink. As before, we talked for a while, then things got very silent.
There was no need for Trish to suggest the hot tub. When there seemed nothing more to say, we got up wordlessly and stripped down buck-naked. This time she wasn't drunk or stoned. Trish just wanted to fuck. Tom had a week's worth of cum putting pressure on his balls. And I was a helpless husband with a horny hot wife.
It became a regular, wordless Saturday night ritual – we all knew Tom was gonna fuck her, even though we pretended we didn't. Sometimes we went out to dinner or to a movie. Sometimes Trish cooked – she was a gourmet cook. Sometimes we had a few drinks on the patio – sometimes a lot of drinks – sometimes we added pot – sometimes we didn't – sometimes we stayed on the mat – sometimes we went to bed. But what always happened – always - was that Tom fucked her brains out and she screamed with that big orgasm.
We pretended it was a fresh idea each time it happened – an accident – a surprise. I was so ashamed of my pathetic performance compared to Tom that I acted like I was more drunk and stoned than I really was. Most nights I did my usual two or three minutes – I gave up trying to hold it back. Some nights I was impotent and Trish just sucked my dick for a few minutes before she pulled Tom over and fucked him.
And this Saturday night it was happening again as I lay in bed next to them remembering the way it began and waiting for her to scream with that explosive orgasm that I knew was just moments away. And tomorrow would be just like every other Sunday before it.
Trish and I woke up every Sunday morning pretending nothing unusual had happened the night before and we went through the day not talking about it. We didn't talk about it at all during the week, even when we both knew he was gonna fuck her again the next Saturday.
During the second month, Tom and I were having lunch one day and he was describing to me another conversation he had had with Janice – they talked regularly using Skype, which was a free way to talk and see each other over the Internet. Janice was making progress toward her degree.
"Janice sends you her best," Tom said. "And she keeps reminding me that I need to say thank you for what you and Trish are doing for me. She's really grateful. She was terrified that I would start fucking some slut and move her into my condo. She keeps telling me I'm a horny bastard who needs user-friendly pussy on a regular basis."
Jesus! I thought. Janice knows he's fucking Trish regular and she's happy about it. What the hell do you say when a guy thanks you for letting him fuck your wife? I wasn't "letting" him fuck her – Trish was the one who made her pussy user-friendly. Janice was right about one thing though – my brother was a horny bastard.
"Well Tom, Trish enjoys taking care of your needs. She doesn't want you to hit the streets any more than Janice does. You're welcome to come over every Saturday night."