That Green Dress Ch. 06

I couldn't stop myself from openly stroking my dick while Melissa told me this story. "You still think you were a virgin when we were married?" I asked.

"A. It was my ass. B. It wasn't consensual. You're goddamn right I was a virgin when we were married. But from the looks of it, you wish I weren't. You seem to like stories of your wife getting fucked."

"You're goddamn right," I replied. "Get back to the party."

"Yes, the party. Greg was making Manhattans to remind me that he had once cum in my asshole. And he got you to keep making Manhattans the rest of the night right there along with him."

"Oh, that's fucked up."

"That's Greg. That's Greg and Lisa both, actually. Anyway, after he and Lisa had their supposed little talk in the garage, he re-entered the kitchen fully erect. I know because he slid his hard cock between my ass cheeks again right in front of you at the kitchen island, making it look like he was just sliding by."

"So I did see what I saw."

"He was slick about it, so I wasn't sure you caught it."

"And that's when you told me you intended on flirting with him."

"I thought it was a brilliant move on my part. I figured it would help to achieve our objective of fucking Lisa, as discussed, while also helping to cover up and excuse Greg's sexual aggression toward me."

"That is smart. And devious. You had been hanging out with Lisa too much."

"No doubt. But everything changed as soon as I left the kitchen to play that second game of pool with him alone. I brought him that Manhattan you had made, and he smiled at me and asked, 'So you like Manhattans, now, huh?' Of course I understood his innuendo, so I replied flatly, 'No I'm not going to let you fuck me in the ass.' He smiled at my reply and then struck up the game of pool as if nothing had been said. But throughout the game his hands seemed to constantly find ways to touch me."

"I caught a glimpse of that from the living room."

Melissa nodded. "And toward the end of the game, when I was down at the foot of the table, bent over to take a shot, he came up behind me and placed both his hands on my ass, as if he were about to fuck me from behind. Immediately I stood up and turned around to protest. He anticipated that, as he had already maneuvered to close the distance between our bodies, pressing me up against the pool table. He pulled upward at the front of my dress as he reached his right hand underneath, too fast for me to stop him before it cupped my crotch. 'What the hell are you doing?' I asked, quietly of course. But he didn't answer. His eyes were on the foyer, watching for signs of anyone approaching. He pushed his fingers aggressively against the fabric over my vaginal opening. 'Why all the armor?' he asked, referring to the pantyhose. He pulled my right hand to his crotch, and I could feel his hardening cock through his pants. He forced my hand to stroke it as he stroked my pussy through my pantyhose. It felt so good; it didn't take long for me to become a willing participant. 'Don't move,' he said. And so I stood still. He turned to his desk and picked up a pair of scissors, then turned to me again. 'Lift up your dress,' he commanded. I hesitated. 'Lift it,' he repeated. And I obeyed. I pulled up on the bottom front of my dress until my crotch was visible to him. So simply he reached forward, pinched my pantyhose by the seam at their center, pulled, and made a quick little snip, then returned the scissors to his desk. When he turned around, instead of approaching me, he leaned back against his desk to relax and admire his work. I liked that he was staring at my pussy, so I continued to hold my dress up for him. He leisurely picked up his drink and enjoyed a sip. He looked me up and down. 'Spread your legs,' he said. Without thinking I widened my stance. I even pulled my panties to the side for him, hoping he would take the two steps toward me and put his cock in me right there. But then you walked in and interrupted us.

"For the rest of the night, my only objective was to get Greg's cock in me. I didn't care about you or Lisa or anything that happened between the two of you, so long as Greg would fuck me. I mean, that's why I made up the lie that Chris was gay. I needed you to believe that you still had a chance with Lisa."

"You knew about Chris and Lisa?" I asked.

"Of course. I knew it, Greg knew it, and you knew it. Going to get ice? C'mon. When Lisa yelled from the living room that she was leaving with Chris to get ice, she was actually informing Greg that she and Chris were going to fuck, just as you thought they were. And Greg was quick to give Lisa the 'OK' as a way to let her know that he and I were going to fuck without her. She left without saying a word, which was her signal that a deal had been struck."

"Right under my nose," I commented.

"Yeah, but after that it was less 'under your nose' and more 'right in your face.' As soon as that pot hit me I decided I could use it as an excuse to get away from you. And where did I go? Right to Greg. You walked into the kitchen and saw me there, sitting on the kitchen island, my skirt hiked up my legs, exposing my nylon-covered thighs to Greg as I sat next to where he stood. And you were so cool with it. You walked away and left me with him like that. Your inaction allowed me to feel that I could go further.

"Greg then introduced me to his friends Tom and Caroline, who were standing there across the island. Caroline hated me right from the start because she caught Tom staring at my thighs. I couldn't blame him, though, because when I twisted my body to talk to them, the motion naturally forced me to bring my right leg up to rest on the countertop. Certainly Tom and Caroline both knew that Greg then had a clear view of my panties and that I didn't mind showing them to him. They exited the conversation and the kitchen. Not a minute later, Tom suddenly reappeared to thank Greg for the party and to say that he and Caroline were leaving. He sure got an eyeful then.

"Greg and I were totally making out. He was standing against the counter with my knees astride his hips. His left hand was on the black nylon fabric covering my right ass cheek as the fingers of his right hand were deep in my pussy. Tom startled us, so we broke our kiss. I turned my head quickly and saw that it was Tom, and Greg quickly said 'good night' to him, but neither Greg nor I made a move to withdraw our hands from one another. Tom lingered for a second as he struggled to understand what he was seeing. I couldn't help but smile at him as I realized the rhythm of Greg's fingerfucking had not been interrupted. And I felt like such a slut, and it felt so incredibly hot, to look into a stranger's eyes as he watched Greg fingerfuck me, a cheating wife, even just for that second before he exited the kitchen.

"And then two things happened. First, the thought crossed my mind that I wished it had been you instead of Tom. I wanted you to see your wife kissing another man and letting him finger her pussy. Second, with that thought came the thought that I wanted you to see your wife letting another man fuck her. Do you hear me? At that moment, I wanted to get caught. I wanted you to see me fucking Greg.

"So without delay I unbuckled Greg's belt, unbuttoned his pants, and reached in to grab his cock. I stroked it hard and fast as he fingerfucked me. Meanwhile with my legs and left hand I wiggled and pulled my ass closer to the edge of the countertop. 'Fuck me,' I told him. His pants had fallen to his thighs and his boxers were too flimsy to keep my hand and his cock hidden, so his hard cock was soon exposed between my thighs. When my ass was nearly hanging over the edge of the countertop, I managed to pull his cock close enough that I could drag its head against my wet labia just beneath his hand. For a moment it entered, and I had two of Greg's fingers and the head of his cock inside me at the same time. 'Fuck me,' I repeated. And I was serious. I wanted Greg to fuck me right there on the kitchen island, and I wished for you to walk in on us. I wanted to see your face while Greg's cock was all the way inside me.

"But Greg had more sense than me. He knew we either had to stop what we were doing or find someplace private. Without saying a word, he withdrew from me, pulled his pants up, and then pulled me off the countertop, leading me through the door to the laundry and through the door to the garage. But one step inside the garage, I was surprised to see Chris's face at the rear of Lisa's car at the far end of the room. Before I could see what was happening, Greg had already backed me up into the laundry room and closed the door. 'What was that?' I asked. 'Chris is fucking my wife,' he responded. He continued guiding me backward into the laundry. He was breathless. So was I. 'What, on the car?' I asked. 'Yeah.' He pinned me against the washing machine and pulled the bottom of my dress up to my waist. 'I want to watch,' I told him. I started unzipping his pants again. 'So do I,' he said. Somehow my pussy got even hotter and wetter when he said that. Surprise at his words never came. Instead I prodded him. 'So let's go,' I demanded. I pushed his pants and boxers to his thighs and his cock was once again in my hand. 'We can't,' he said. He yanked my panties far to the side just before sliding his cock between my legs and along my wet labia. 'Lisa and I have a deal.' I understood. 'You want me alone?' I asked. I widened my stance, and the head of Greg's cock found my entrance. 'That's right,' he said. He lowered his hips and then thrust upward. His cock was inside me. 'Fine,' I said, 'just fuck me.'

"And Greg fucked me there, face to face, up against the washing machine. It was sometime there in the laundry that I let my hair down, by the way. Meanwhile I started thinking about what he had just said, that he wanted to watch Chris and Lisa fuck. Questions began to fill my mind. When we were dating, I never got the idea he wanted to see me with another man, so when did this start? Did he want to see a man fuck me back then? Does he simply sit and watch, or does he participate? Or does he watch and jerk off? Does Lisa know that he likes to watch? Does Chris know? Would my husband like to watch while Greg fucks me? Would my husband jerk off?

"I'm not sure which brought me so quickly to the brink of orgasm, whether it was Greg's cock or the questions in my head. But it was likely my pending orgasm that brought me to verbalize the next question that came to mind. I asked, 'Is Chris going to cum inside your wife?' Hearing my words, Greg's jaw wrenched open as he moaned through a deep breath, carefully avoiding his own orgasm. Understanding the power my words had over him, I exercised them further. 'I bet she begs for his cum. Doesn't she?'

"I struck a jealous nerve, and Greg pulled his cock out, then flipped me over and pushed me down onto the washing machine before shoving his cock into me again. 'What's this?' I asked. 'You want to fuck me the same way Chris is fucking your wife right now in the next room?' He didn't answer my questions; he just slammed his cock into me harder and harder. We were both on the brink of orgasm, so I know I wasn't thinking straight when I said the next sentence. 'Show me how Chris cums inside your wife.' I was about to say something else, but Greg's fingers dug into my hips and he slammed his cock into me so hard it hurt. And then he came. He held his cock deep inside of me and released everything he had. I hadn't cum yet, so I reached my right hand down to rub my clitoris. I was close, but then he pulled out, and some of his cum splashed on the floor, which caused me to start thinking about what a mess my crotch and legs must be, and then that was it. I couldn't cum.

"I needed his cock in me again. 'You didn't let me cum,' I scolded him. 'Sorry,' he said. 'Don't say that you're sorry. Just fuck me more.' I pleaded. 'I can't,' he said. 'It hurts if I try to keep going. We have to wait for my second wind.'"

"His 'second wind'?" I asked.

"That's what he said," confirmed Melissa.

"So that's what was so funny later when I told everyone in the kitchen that I felt a second wind coming on."

"Yes."

"And then you said that you felt a second wind coming on, too."

"Yes."

"Which was directed toward Greg."

"Yes. For some reason it was funny to me that you had inadvertently given me a secret code that allowed me to declare to you, Greg, and the whole room of people that I wanted Greg to fuck me again, and only Greg would be able to decode my message."

"Just to be sure, you are actually a slut, Melissa."

"I know."

"A total fucking slut."

"Shall I continue?"

"Please."

"Knowing that I had to wait for Greg to be able to fuck me again, my disappointment caused my lust to fizzle, and I became worried over how long I was absent from the party. Whatever had caused me to hope that you would catch me and Greg fucking was gone. Instead I was in a rush to return to the party so that you wouldn't know that Greg and I had disappeared. I pulled a towel out of the washing machine and wiped my crotch, then fixed my dress and opened the door to the kitchen. Greg immediately followed me out, but protested at the same time, telling me that you would be suspicious over my appearance. I didn't know what to do. I turned toward him and started to cry and panic. The pot was indeed messing with me. He told me to sit and calm down, so that's what I did. I was in a full panic right up until your presence forced me to control it.

"And then, after you waited for me outside the bathroom, I felt your hard dick. At first, given what Greg had said in the laundry just a few minutes earlier, I was almost sure that you were excited to see that your wife had just been fucked by another man. I never completely bought your denial of it, as you may have guessed, but I didn't want to push the issue. I decided instead to go along with your explanation and let you tell me otherwise when you were ready.'"

"This explains why you and Greg so openly touched each other the rest of the night. You had decided I liked it."

"I suppose so. But on the other hand, there was a part of me that was thrilled at the idea that perhaps you didn't like it, but that you were impotent to do anything about it."

"Like humiliation?"

"Yeah, that's right. Humiliation. I think I was getting off on the power of being able to mess around with Greg right in front of you. That's why I briefly fantasized about having you walk in on Greg and me while we were fucking. I wanted to laugh in your face as he made me cum."

Her honesty cut me deeply. "Why do you want to hurt me so bad?" I asked.

Melissa had no immediate answer. We sat in silence for several minutes as she thought about my question.

"I think...I think it's because, somehow, I blame you for the end of my relationship with Greg."

"You broke up with him months before we got together."

"I know...but we were already friends when Greg and I broke up. I think you filled the void I would have felt in Greg's absence. If I had felt that void, I might have thought about him more and reconsidered our breakup. Maybe I would have decided to get back together with him and to give him my virginity, and then I would have discovered so much earlier that I should have been having sex with him from the start. He and I were a great match, and the only thing that ever came between us was my insistence on remaining a virgin. And now that I regret that, I can't help but see that you were the only thing that kept Greg and me apart. Even now, perhaps you are the only thing between Greg and me."

"It sounds like you're saying you don't love me."

"No, that's not at all what I'm saying. I know I love you. I love the home and family we've built together with our daughter. But the heart has an infinite capacity to love. Maybe I still love Greg."

"Maybe you just love his cock."

"Could be. That's why I said 'maybe.' I'm not sure yet." Melissa then changed the subject. "You know, it seems to me now that seriously dating someone for two years but abstaining from sex has a magnitude of perversity equal to fucking everyone you meet. They're just at opposite ends of the same bell curve. It's simply not healthy. That avoidance of sex didn't strengthen my relationships with Greg or with you while we dated, it only damaged them."

Throughout Melissa's storytelling I jerked off. Sometimes I stroked my dick slowly and nearly went flaccid, while other times my balls ached as I pumped my dick furiously and edged toward orgasm. Since Melissa had answered nearly all the questions in my mind about what had happened over the past several months, I was left with only one more question, and I wanted the answer to that last question to be the one to lead me to orgasm.

"Are you going to keep fucking him?" After I asked, I realized that my question could be interpreted to have a broad or narrow meaning.

"Like I already told you, I cut both Lisa and Greg out after the party. I haven't talked to them, and I don't intend to."

I decided to steer us away from that topic. "That's not what I meant. When we started this conversation, you were bent over getting fucked right next to me."

A sly smile developed on Melissa's mouth. "Do you like it when another man fucks your wife?"

"Only if I'm able to see it," I admitted. "I need to be able to watch. Can you promise me that?"

"How do you want it?" She answered my question with a question.

"On your back, legs spread wide for him."

"I have a dildo," she blurted out.

"OK."

"I bought it a few months ago. It's huge, but otherwise looks and feels real. Do you want to see it?"

"Please."

Melissa went to her closet, then returned with a giant flesh-colored dildo in one hand and a tube of lubrication in the other. She flipped open the cap on the tube, dabbed a generous amount of lubrication on the dildo's head, placed the tube on her nightstand, and then flopped over onto the mattress. She slid her body tight against mine and spread her right leg over my legs as she readied the dildo to enter her vagina.

"Mike?" she whispered.

"Yeah?" I responded. My voice was also a whisper, as my throat had tightened at the sight of a large cock approaching my wife's vaginal entrance.

"He's about to put his cock in me."

"Yeah?"

"Is that OK? Is it OK if I let him fuck me?"

"Yes. Let him fuck you."

"I think he's hesitant to do it in front of you. Can you encourage him?"

I knew exactly what she wanted to hear me say. "Do it. Fuck my wife." I nearly came when I said those words.

Melissa pushed the dildo into her vagina about halfway, then pulled it out partway, then pushed it nearly all the way in. A few more strokes and she was able to accept the entire shaft up to its balls. Her breaths and moans seemed to express relief. "Mmmmm....Aaahhhhh....Mmmmm..."

"That's it," I said, "Fuck my wife. Make her take your whole cock."

"Oh, that's so goooood..."

"Yeah, you like his cock?"

"His cock is so good..."

"Tell him what you want."

"Ah!...Fuck me. I want you to fuck me with that giant cock...Uh!"

"You like fucking him in front of me."

"I love it...Uh!...I love getting fucked in front of my husband...Uh!"

"You like getting fucked behind my back, too."

"I do!...Uh!...I love it...I love getting fucked behind my husband's back...Uh!"

"You're going to keep fucking him, aren't you?"

"Oh!...Fuck yes...Uh! I'm going to let him fuck me whenever he wants...Hmph!"

"Is there anything that matters more?"

"No!...No!...Uh!...All that matters is getting fucked by his cock!...Mmph!"

I had to stop masturbating to avoid cumming so soon. With free hands, the urge struck me to place my hand over Melissa's on the base of the dildo and guide it into Melissa with a different rhythm and angle. To my surprise, when my hand landed upon hers, she withdrew her hand completely, allowing me full control over the dildo's movements. Both her hands slid up her abdomen until they came in contact with her breasts, where they began to massage. I lowered the end of the dildo to bring its balls into contact with her anus as I pushed it all the way in.