The Cameraman Gets Lucky

"Michael, I think Carl has a... big... problem." She was up on her elbows looking at his crotch. Our lovemaking had an effect: his khakis were tented boldly. If he heard her, he didn't respond.

"Let me give him a blowjob?" It was phrased with a rising inflection as a question but it was really a request, an intention. And Carl rolled his eyes and smiled behind the lens. He heard it.

I have to admit I was a little flabbergasted. It made me more than a little uneasy; it was a a lot more than I'd bargained for. It was my wife offering her body, offering to let another man's sex organ into her body. No, it wasn't going between her legs but it would be in her none the less. And ask Bill Clinton: it's sex.

"C'mon Michael," she implored playfully, "he can cum in my mouth and you can vid the whole thing." She laughed, it was coquettish, "let me be a hotwife, a slut. I mean, it's Valentine's Day. We've never done anything like this before. Let me suck his cock. It's an adventure, our adventure. It's fun. It's our anniversary."

Just a blowjob, I finally convinced myself, it was just a blowjob and that wasn't really SEX sex, was it? It was just a little innocent sex, right? "What if I say no?" I laughed with more than a little trepidation, but I nodded. "Just a little head. Until he cums. You'll swallow?"

"Of course!" she exclaimed, as if it were a really stupid question. I guess it might have been because she always swallowed me, but she had never done this with another man. We had no guardrails. We were in new territory.

"C'mon Carl," she said, leering over him with her eyes, patting the side of the bed. There was a fiery lust in her command. "Show Michael how to use the camera... then drop your pants..." She was eager to see reason for his bulging package.

Carl set his camera down on the dresser, looked at me and smiled quickly as he unbuckled his belt. A naughty, knowing smile. The khakis fell to the floor. His tight camo bikini underwear had a dark shiny damp streak at the top of the bulge.

I got out of bed and stood naked by the dresser as he showed me how to use the telephoto and how to start filming. It was not that different than our little one. I shot a few seconds of Ann with her legs spread lewdly and her nipples being teased taut between her thumb and forefinger.

Carl pulled off his underwear and slipped the tee shirt up over his head. A thought crossed my mind when he did that: first the smile, then thinking, you don't have to be naked to get a blow job. Ann blushed, her eyes taking in his hairless brown skin, ripped abs, resting finally on his clean shaven mound and fully erect penis. She had never been in the room with another man naked, let alone one ready to have sex. With her. And no other man had seen her beautiful body naked. She gasped out loud at the sight of his thick veiny tower and motioned him to the side of the bed. He was about the same size as me but with more girth and a bigger helmet. It drooled droplets of clear liquid through the little slit at the top.

Ann got onto her knees, balancing herself on the edge of the bed with one hand and stroking his erection with the other. It was playful, silly, with some hamming for the camera: an "Oh My God" expression on her face, slapping the firm flesh against her cheeks, sliding it between her tits. Goofy.

"It looks like he's a bit bigger than you, sweetheart... but just a little" she commented with mock seriousness, "certainly a lot thicker. I hope I can fit all of him into my mouth." I didn't think it would be a problem; she gives great head.

She quickly turned serious, leaned forward slightly and took his cock between her lips, teasing the head with her tongue, lapping at the little clear drops of precum dripping from the tip. Watching his cock disappear down her throat was erotic beyond belief, beyond anything I had ever experienced before. I was mesmerized. He groaned as her mouth engulfed his entire member and rhythmically moved back and forth on the rigid flesh. An occasional gag broke her slow sensual rhythm. Her breasts swayed gently with every bob of her head.

He placed one hand behind her neck, using her braid like a rein to guide her long, sensual stroke. His fingertips walked down her back under the braid in slow circular waves. She quivered whenever they brushed the small of her back. It was one of her erogenous zones. Her hand soon went between her legs, a finger teasing the clitoris to a stiff nub. She was definitely turned on and the heat was rising.

She let his cock slide out of her mouth. It stood straight up, the head red and angry. "Carl, get up on the bed," she said, "my arm is getting tired." He laid down next to her, his head on the pillow, his thick cock hovering, twitching, just above his six-pack abs. She kneeled over him, her thigh resting intimately against his elbow, her head ceaselessly bobbing up and down, her cheeks filled with cock. Bells started going off in my head: a beautiful woman, a good looking younger man, both naked on a bed after some extremely heavy foreplay. What could possibly happen?

He reached across his chest and palmed one of her breasts, taunting the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She moaned and shuddered: his touch was electric, unexpected. Her body started telling a story. Eyes shut tight as the sensations danced in the flames burning behind her eyelids. She shifted her shoulder slightly to accommodate his hand. His other hand wandered up the inside of her thigh, the middle finger dipping deep into the gap. She spread her legs a little wider, gyrating her hips in tempo with the manipulations of his finger. He slowly fucked her with it, inserted a second, a third. I could tell from the movement of her ass, her moans, and her ragged breathing that she was about to orgasm. He continued; he knew it, too.

Finally her toes curled, Carl's engorged cock slid out of her mouth, and she laid back onto her pillow chanting "Oh god, oh god" in wonton pleasure to the pagan spirits dancing inside. She cried like a wounded animal, her body wracked with wave after wave of the orgasm. His fingers continued to work their magic inside the slick pink gap between her thighs.

Then the unexpected: he leaned over and kissed her, full, on the lips, her tongue willingly dueling with his. It all happened too quickly to be shocked, or to even react. Her arms wrapped around his neck. He rolled on top of her. She lewdly spread her legs and wrapped them around his back. With one swift thrust his rock hard manhood, slick with her saliva, slid effortlessly and completely between the petals of her pussy lips. It seemed like slow motion in my mind yet my mind was racing. It was no longer just an innocent blowjob; a little erotic fun video for our personal pleasure. This was sex, real hardcore sex. His cock was sliding in and out of Ann's tight pussy and her body was responding willingly to every stroke. He was fucking my wife! What's more, she liked it! A lot!

And he was bareback.

I was still shooting video and she was still cumming, hard. Their lips were glued together, muting her passionate moans. Her ass met every primal thrust. and every thrust buried his cock to the hilt. Finally the tempo slowed, their lips parted, her breathing slowed, but he continued, the tip of his cock emerging then slowly disappearing in perfect cadence with her.

As the revere of her orgasms subsided, it was as if she realized what had happened, what was happening. Yet her hips continued, almost unconsciously, to take his cock deep inside with every stroke.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," she said softly, still subliminally engaged in the act of sex. She looked over at me with sleepy, half-closed eyes. "You know that Michael, this wasn't supposed to happen."

Carl slowed his pace but was still fucking her. "Do you want me to pull out, baby? To stop?" It wasn't Ann this time. It was 'baby'.

Her arms were still around his neck. She looked into his eyes but was talking to me. "Michael?" Something in her voice, the inflection she gave to my name, told me she did not want him to stop. I don't think she'd have stopped even if I'd wanted; the fact was I didn't know what I wanted. Watching his cock slowly, hypnotically slip in and out of her cunt... the wet sloppy sounds... the rhythm... in and out...

"Ann, it's already happened, you're having sex with him. Guess it's not 'just a blowjob' anymore, is it?" We both smiled but it was the kind of smile you give someone when you know you'll have a lot to talk about later.

"So?" ... in and out...

"Let it happen. It looks like you're enjoying it." I tried not to make that sound like a stab but I guess it was. "Let's call it an anniversary present," I replied, resigned to the reality. It looked like she was enjoying it far more than she should. "Just know when to stop." She knew what I meant: she had been off birth control since my vasectomy. But she looked at me like she knew something more, something I didn't. I didn't know what it meant.

Here's the dirty fact- I was getting off on it, too, with a perverse kind of detached pleasure, the animal nature of excitement, but I didn't say it. There was a mixture of anger and revulsion, shock and lust rolling around in my mind, yet I had to admit that my dick got hard as steel watching her tits quake as his body slammed into her in such a controlled, steady rhythm. We had watched cuckold vids before- intrigued yet detached, always wondering how a husband could enjoy watching his wife fuck another man. Yet here I was, watching my wife fuck another man, and enjoying it.

Her eyes were filled with lusty smoke. They kissed, his tempo slow and easy for long spans of time. They talked while her calves pushed against his thighs: he felt so good inside her, her pussy was so tight, so wet, that kind of porn talk. He yielded to the coaxing of her calves, crushing his bald pubic mound against hers. "Faster Carl, faster," she eventually demanded between their passionate kisses, "harder, faster." Carl increased the tempo, their skin slapping rhythmically as she moved closer and closer to another orgasm. Third? Fourth? I'd lost count.

It hit her like a freight train."Oh my fucking god I'm cumming, oh shit oh shit, so hard so hard ahhhhh," she screamed, "harder goddammit, fuck me harder Carl oh jesus fucking christ harder I'm cumming." It was her mantra, a primal scream, an ancient prayer. Carl lifted her legs over his shoulders and continued to stab his pole deep into her while she screamed and cried, his thick engorged rod a pile driver sliding in and out of her wet pussy with frictionless ease.

It took her a while to come down. His cadence was again slow, rhythmic, deliberate. He bit one nipple, then the other, then took a nipple into his mouth and teased it with his teeth and tongue. Her whole body shivered with lust. He was not letting her orgasms subside; they were building up on each other into one continuous tsunami of lust and passion.

"How close are you to cumming?" she asked as they continued to fuck, "because I feel another one coming".

"I can go a little longer." It was a lie. His balls had retracted into his scrotum. He was ready to cum.

Their eyes met. She smiled warmly and kissed him. "Good," she whispered, "you feel so good filling every inch of my pussy with your big thick cock." Her teeth nibbled an ear lobe, "but I want to be on top."

With a quick move and not a word said he rolled over, taking her with him. "Like that?" His cock never left her body.

I don't know whether the surprise on her face was because it had happened so quickly or because his manhood was so much deeper inside of her than it had been. Her eyes closed in exquisite revere. She periodically teased her clit or pinched her nipples. Their bodies continued the tempo but now at her pace, to the cadence of their breathing, the slow rhythm of their coitus. She was in control. There was a look on his face, a knowing smile, something in the way he looked at her, like he was saying something with his body, to me: he didn't want to pull out. He wasn't going to pull out. He was going to plant his seed deep inside her womb. Her body, impaled as it was on his unsheathed sword, seemed to be saying she would let him.

She rode up and down on the rigid shaft speckled with frothy white islands of her lubrication and my semen. She sat upright on her shins, his hands caressing her breasts, his bare cock sliding deep into her unprotected womb. Then she'd bend over to kiss him while he did the fucking, then back upright, his finger teasing the pink flesh between her legs.

He closed his eyes and pulled her down hard on his shaft, hands on her hips. "I'm gonna cum baby, I'm gonna cum." She kept riding. "Oh god Ann, I'm ready to cum in your pussy." She kept riding. He started moaning. "I can't stop it Ann, I'm cumming." She kept riding. His body stiffened. She quit riding, her bald pussy glued to his shaven mound. He moaned, his hips spasmodically thrusting up as she remained impaled on his throbbing cock. It was now pumping thick threads of sperm into her fertile womanhood. She bent over at the waist to kiss him, cum sliding down his shaft onto the sheets.

I panned over their melded bodies as I moved to the end of the bed. I had to catch the money shot. The camera captured the head of his flagging organ as it slid out of her. Like a burst dam, a steady stream of thick white semen seeped between the two swollen petals.

Scene 3, 44:16. We'd used up our entire hour. Actually, he'd used up two thirds of it shooting sperm into my wife while I was shooting video of him doing it.

Soon after his orgasm, maybe a minute, maybe ten, he lumbered out of bed, put his clothes on, and silently began packing his equipment. Ann lay on her back, her breasts slowly rising and falling with each breath. Her beauty was breathtaking. She was totally wiped out but I think there was more going on than just exhaustion. She'd willingly let her womb be filled with the sperm of another man. She didn't know when to stop.

I didn't quite know what to make of what had just happened. I was hurt that another man had fucked my wife and was even more devastated that he planted his seed inside her lush, fertile body. Something had been taken from me, from us, a violation. I had a deep sense of loss, and a deeper sense that the loss was just be beginning, and that it may be unfathomable. I didn't know if Ann and I would be able to reconcile what had just happened. Maybe soon I'd be enraged or depressed or unnamed emotion in between but I was still in too numb, too much in shock to feel anything at all. I was angry that it had happened and that she had let it happen, that she could have swallowed his spunk, or once they started fucking, had him shoot it onto her tits or her face or her back. But she made a conscious choice to take his sperm into the well of her womb. Why?

But I had let it happen, too; I had done nothing to stop it. Why did I not say no when she first asked? Or say something when he got completely naked? I mean, who needs to be naked for a blowjob? Or when he joined her on the bed at her invitation? When I could see her erogenous responses cascading, hot flames rising in her loins as his fingertips etched erotic patterns across her body. To her back. To her breasts. To her thighs. To her clit. Why didn't I speak up? Then again, would saying something have changed anything? Everything went too far too fast: less than an hour. And it was almost as if, by design, everything had been programed, almost preordained, for each of those moments leading up to Carl pumping his thick hot cum into her eager willing pussy.

Yet it had been infinitely and, admittedly, a fantastical dream, a pure erotic pleasure fest. It was hypnotic beyond imagination watching the two of them fuck. I had gotten instantly erect the moment he rolled on top of her and thrust his hard cock deep into her body. There was a lewd, lascivious beauty to their bodies moving in perfect rhythm. Hands squeezing breasts, fingers touching intimate body parts, his cock, her clit, her labia. The pulsing twitches of his sex organ filling her with his seed. Filming it all, being close enough to feel their heat, smell the fragrances of their sex. The sounds of her pleasure and lust, the arch of her back, the quivering of her flesh in quick little waves moving up her body. I had liked it. I had liked it a lot. And that worried me.

I wanted to deck him, but I didn't. I think if he had said anything at all, one word, about any of this, I would have, but he didn't. If he hadn't already been paid- in cash- I would have stiffed him, at least for the last 40 or so minutes. He handed me the disk and a business card, then wordlessly picked up his equipment, loaded it into his SUV, and left.

I set the disk on the coffee table. I should have burned the business card but it went in the trash instead. I went into the bedroom. Ann and I? Well, we had a lot to talk about.