The Get Back

This story is my submission for the April Fools Day Story Contest 2024, so if you like it, please give it an appropriate rating.

I've entered it in the Erotic Couplings category because it is all-encompassing. However, there is far more erotic action in this story that crosses into several categories, so I've added my list of tags for you to review and decide if the content of my story fits your appetite for erotica.

If you've read my work, you know I like to tell my stories in threes. This piece is no different. These pages contain three encounters, each more intense than the last. Each story not only contains raw sex but also includes the sounds, textures, the feel, the bodily fluids, and even the smells of sex. It's erotic as hell, but not for everyone.

My stories have been called third-rail sex wrapped in a tantalizing twisted tale. But be warned, if the tags below indicate the story is not to your pleasure and interest, perhaps you should pass on reading this.

TAGS: Anal Sex, Lesbian, 3-Way, Blowjob, Bare Pussy, MILF, Swallowing, Nipples, Romantic, Cream pie, Ass to Mouth, Bondage, seduction, cheating, big cock, cum, domination, pegging, Lesbian sex, older man, drugs, rimming, slut wife, strap on, wife sharing, pussy eating, light bondage, large labia, fingering, doggy style, Persian, Iranian woman, hairy pussy, hanging pussy lips, femdom, female dominant

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The Get Back

Jazzy picked up the pace for one final sprint of her daily four-mile run. It was the hardest part of the run, up the big hill to April Street. Putting on a burst of speed, she finished at the entrance to her street and began walking toward her home. Located in the quiet, upscale suburban community of Santa Margarita, April Street was a small cul-de-sac only about 100 yards long with four very nice homes.

Living here was part of the American dream; while some took that for granted, Jazzy did not. She left Iran when she was fifteen, came to America, and did her best to consume the culture. For half her life in America, she was awkward. When she met Aaron in her junior year at Michigan State, she fell for what she mistook as charm and sophistication, something she wanted for herself but didn't think she would ever have.

A year later, she blossomed into an exotic beauty, still unsure of the command that attractiveness could have over men. It's been said that Persian women are the most beautiful, and to see Jazzy would confirm that. She had deep olive skin that was closer to wheat brown. Her eyes, large and almond-shaped with brown and blue flecks, gleamed when offset by her raven black hair. With a soft, curvy body, she looked like Princess Jasmine from Aladdin, earning her the nickname Jazzy.

Several years after becoming the object of attention by other men and women, she realized how lucky Aaron was. He met and proposed to her before she knew her full potential. Aaron saw himself as more attractive and erudite than was his reality. Still, he was fun and somewhat awkward but successful and easily manipulated, which worked for her. However, keeping others from taking advantage of him was a constant task.

After fifteen years in America, her accent was slight, and her vocabulary was excellent, but she was still learning to comprehend American sarcasm, humor, and subtle innuendo.

Jazzy and Aaron moved to April Street three years ago and immediately found it the perfect place to live. That perfection came from the collection of incredible neighbors. Charlie and Marla lived next door on the left, Jack and Mallory were across the street, and Eddy and Grace lived next door on the right side. From block parties to holidays, the four couples spent countless hours together. Every weekend was a party in someone's backyard or pool. They called themselves the April Street Gang. Of course, catty neighbors from other streets generally called them the April Street Gang Bang.

Eddy was in his driveway washing his car as she walked by. He loved it when Jazzy finished her runs and always found an excuse to be in his yard at that time. Her running tights were usually showing off the round of her ass, and her nipples were always rock hard from the adrenaline of the run.

"Are we still on for tonight?" Eddy asked.

Jazzy gave him the thumbs up. It was the first Saturday of the month, meaning the rotating cocktail party was at her house tonight.

There was nothing better than hanging with the neighbors. The three other wives had become her closest friends, and the guys were inseparable.

Coming into the house, Jazzy went upstairs to find Aaron still in bed.

"Salam, sobh behier," she said with a smile.

"Speak English," he groaned.

"Wake up, it's almost nine o'clock."

"I liked it better when I didn't understand it."

"You promised to clean off the patio for tonight's party."

"Yes, Queen Nazilla, I shall do your bidding. My humble apologies."

Nazilla was her Iranian name, and she never liked it. She always wanted to be called Jasmine and had manipulated Arron, shortly after meeting him, into coining that nickname and making it stick.

Jazzy leaned over Aaron to fix the pillows on the bed, and he reached out to grab her, pulling her in close.

"Stop. I'm all sweaty from running."

"So, isn't that like a love potion in your country?"

"Sweat? No, Iranians like to bathe."

"Ok, I'll take some shower sex then."

"If you want morning sex, set your alarm for seven in the morning; that's when I usually finger myself while you sleep."

Aaron looked at Jazzy with a quizzical stare. Her sense of humor differed greatly from his or anyone else he knew. Perhaps it was a cultural thing, but she was the most unfiltered person he'd ever met, meaning he had to analyze everything she said to discern a statement from a joke.

"I can't tell if you're fucking with me right now."

"Set your alarm for tomorrow at seven, and you'll find out. Now, please get up and get to work. After all, you are the one who loves these parties—always flirting with the wives. Don't think I don't hear you making all those innuendos to the girls."

"Guy stuff. We all do it. Eddy's the worst."

Jazzy picked up a basket of laundry that had been unfolded for a week and took it into the huge walk-in closet to put the clothes away.

"Let's make whisky drinks," she shouted back to Aaron, who was scrolling through text messages, still in bed."

"That always brings out the fun."

Jazzy began folding Aaron's underwear. She knew it would sit in the laundry basket for days without him bothering to put it away, so she did it rather than asking again and again. Picking up after him was more work than having kids.

Opening his underwear drawer, she placed the folded Hanes in a neat pile that he would soon topple. She was closing the drawer when she noticed a small black pocket notebook half hidden beneath his underwear. Pulling out the notebook, she flipped through the pages. All the pages were blank except the first few. She knew this was probably something Aaron did not want her to see, but they had been married for five years now, and what was hers was his, and what was his was hers. She felt that gave her permission to see what he had hidden.

There were sixteen women's names written down on the pages. Each name was written at a different time, as evidenced by the various pens and pencils used. After each name was a notation describing the person or a detail.

Stephanie R - Small tits with long nipples. Soft around the waist. Hairy pussy with a really large clit. Let me cum inside her bareback. Fucked her several times. Maureen F - Big pussy lips, nice tits with very red nipples. She wore a pantyhose when we did it. Let me rip them open. Very loud when she came. Suzanna K - Did it when her boyfriend was out walking the dog. Soft tits and a nice pear-shaped ass. Offered me anal but we could not find lube. Marillia R - invited me over to watch porn. She liked getting fucked doggy style. She came when I stuck my finger in her ass. She liked to let her cat watch us fuck. Invited her to my wedding.

Jazzy scrolled down the list, past names like Bess, Andrea, Peggy, another Andrea, Brenda, Kim and then her name.

Jazzy S - Exotic body, great eyes. Middle Eastern girl. Shaved pussy, huge pussy lips that hang down. Soft tits with brown nipples. Amazing blow job fingered my ass until I came. Swallowed. Virgin, but you would never guess.

Jazzy laughed. She was not a virgin when she slept with Aaron. Not by a long shot, but he thought she was, so why complicate things with the truth?

So, this was Aaron's fuck list. Every girl he had slept with before her and some interesting notes to accompany it. She knew he had about ten lovers before him; now she had an exact head count and some fun details to go with it. Her father had worked with the CIA in Iran, and she remembered the one thing he constantly repeated - knowledge is power.

She was about to put the book away when she turned the page to see three additional names on the next page.

Marla L: Loud fuck had to hold my hand over her face so Jazzy could not hear us on the patio as she slept.

Mallory B: Big tits, very soft. Liked to be on top. Very wet pussy. Fucked her when Jazzy was in New York for a weekend.

Gracie H: Fucked her in the woods while golfing. She let me keep her underwear.

Jazzy said the names out loud, "Marla, Mallory, and Gracie."

She went to the window, looked at the three other houses on the cul-de-sac, and pointed at each home as she repeated the names.

"Marla Lewis, Mallory Burns, and Gracie Hayes."

All three were married and lived on her street. In fact, these women were Jazzy's closest friends, as were their husbands. And yet, somehow, Aaron had seduced them all—her hopeless Aaron, who had no game whatsoever.

She exited the closet and looked at her husband with a hard stare, trying to imagine how he could pull off such a coup. It's one thing to fuck one neighbor, it happens more than you think, but three? All on the same street? If, somehow, Aaron had bedded each of the women on the street, was he foolish enough to take notes?

That answer was obvious. He was foolish enough never to clear his browser history. He was foolish enough to have texted a dick pic to her mother by accident. He was foolish enough to leave porn videos on the iPad next to a bottle of hand lotion and a box of tissues. The more she thought about his history of blunders, the more this seemed plausible.

She wondered how to deal with this revelation. Being raised in a male-driven society, she was somewhat afraid of confrontation. But she had the facts. Aaron could not deny it. What to do? What to do?

Aaron was still sitting in bed, scrolling, when Jazzy sat beside him.

"Marla and Gracie are both thinking about getting boob jobs."

That immediately got Aaron's attention.

"Really? They told you that?"

"They asked me if I wanted to as well. Obviously, Mallory doesn't need one. Marla thinks we can get a group discount."

"On a boob job? Like a Groupon? I don't think so. But you should get a consultation...I mean if that's what you want."

Aaron's enthusiasm was growing at the thought of his wife with huge tits.

"Should I? I don't want them having better boobs than I do."

Jazzy had almost perfect breasts. Tight and round with dark nipples that knew when to poke out and grab attention. They were not big, but certainly not small, and when she squeezed them into a tight top with lace and cleavage, she got glances from men, which is what she was going for.

"I don't want you looking at them and not me."

"Never. You know I only have eyes for you."

Jazzy held up Aaron's notebook.

"I saw your list. Your fuck lists. Do you want to rethink that last statement?"

Boom!

Jazzy had just dropped the nuclear bomb on the conversation. Aaron looked at her, unsure what to say. His face grew red, and a wave of panic swept over him.

"Where did you get that?"

"In your underwear drawer. Are you too stupid to hide this somewhere better?"

"It was childish. I should never have kept the notes. Those ladies are all ancient history. Before your time."

"Most yes, but not all. What about Mallory? Marla? Gracie? The names of my three closest friends. You had sex with all three other wives on this street? And then you wrote it into your little book for posterity?"

"Oh, about that part. I can explain."

"I had no idea about any of this, none," Jazzy said.

Aaron, who should have seen his entire life crumbling before him, smiled and laughed. Jazzy looked at him, unsure what he found to be funny.

"Hey Alexa," Aaron called out to the AI unit on the counter, "what's today's date?"

Before the Alexa unit replied, Jazzy shouted out.

"I fucked all their husbands. Jack, Charlie and Eddy. I fucked them all. There I said it!"

"Today is April first," Alexa replied, "April Fool's Day. Would you like to hear a joke?"

No one spoke. Not even Alexa.

"You, you, did what?" Aaron asked in shock.

"I fucked the husbands of the women you screwed. It's been heavy on my mind for so long, and I've wanted to tell you. I really wanted you to know because I don't like the burden of that secret. But now that you told me your news. I'm so...relieved. I am so...liberated."

"I don't understand," Aaron said, almost in shock, "are you saying you had sex with all our neighbors?"

"No, just the men. I felt so guilty not telling you, and it was eating away at me, and then you came out with this and...thank you, Sikteer. Thank you for telling me."

'Sikteer', was a Persian term of Jazzy often used when trying to influence Aaron's decision process. Aaron thought it meant master and loved how subservient she sounded when she said it. It doesn't mean master.

She crawled on the bed beside Aaron and snuggled in close.

"I want you to tell me every detail," she whispered, "every noise, every groan. Did you make them cum? Did you? How? Are Mallory's tits real?"

Aaron began to panic slightly. His boast was supposed to last as long as it takes to say April Fool's, but now he had to confess the truth or come up with sexual escapades for liaisons that never happened. To tell her the truth meant revealing he wasn't the cocksmith he claimed to be. Which right now seemed to be earning him respect from his foreign bride, who saw his conquests as exciting, even erotic.

Instead of coming clean on the poorly planned prank, Aaron doubled down on his claim.

"It was pretty intense. I'm not sure you want to hear details."

Aaron was still reeling from the revelation of his wife's infidelity, which might not have been a big deal if he had actually slept with the women of April Street. Instead, he had faked the entries in his sex journal to set up the ultimate April Fool's Day joke.

And that joke was now imploding all around him.

Aaron was half distracted by his wife's professed infidelity and somehow equally excited that his petite Iranian-born wife was capable of seducing these men with such ease.

Jazzy moved in closer to Aaron, snuggling next to him. He could smell her dried sweat, which had an intoxicating allure to him. He felt himself getting that pre-arousal warmth but then panicked and wondered if he could ever get it up again after being caught in a lie about a lie.

"Which one did you like the best?" Jazzy asked. "Let me guess, Gracie. She has that athletic build. Big thighs and a strong back. Do you know she played softball in college? She lifts weights. You like a strong woman. I wish I had a thick body like hers..."

"No, I didn't..."

"You didn't think I noticed you always staring at Gracie? Well, I did."

Jazzy peeled down her top to reveal her light brown breasts with dark nipples. They were a perfect size and shape, and she held one out to Aaron.

"You can pretend I'm her if you want. I won't mind.

Aaron looked at his wife's breasts. He was still stunned and somewhat numb and did not move to touch her despite grabbing for her just minutes ago.

She leaned in and poked her nipple against his mouth, forcing him to open and suckle them. Her skin was salty, and her taste was earthy. As he licked at her nipples, she held her arms up so her fragrant armpits could flood his senses.

Jazzy smiled as Aaron gently inhaled her sweaty scent. The lessons in seduction from her mother were all about the hypnotic power of the female body, from smells to secretions. She could lure in any man like a fly to sugar. She had gotten Aaron's attention in college by dabbing her vaginal secretions on her pulse points, and now her sweaty skin was sending messages to his libido.

Jazzy used her left hand to massage his cock over his pants.

"When did you do that?" Aaron asked, "Have sex with..."

"Different times. You don't want the details," she replied.

"I do. Tell me how it happened...then I'll tell you my stories."

"It started with Charlie. I was in the mall, buying some sexy lingerie for your birthday, and he's in Victoria's Secret, buying something for Marla. We start talking, and he remembers they didn't get me a birthday gift, so he gives me $200 to buy myself something sexy."

"And you took the money? I mean, we have plenty of money."

"It was a gift. That would be rude to turn it down.

"He then told me to meet him at La Rue just outside the mall for lunch. So, I did. We had a very nice meal, and after a bottle of wine, he dared me to put on my new lingerie."

"The lingerie you bought to wear for my birthday?"

"No, of course not. The lingerie I bought with his $200. You should have seen it: purple satin, black, crotchless, of course."

"Where is it now?"

"We left it in the hotel room. It got ruined."

"You went to a hotel room? After lunch?"

"After, I went into the bathroom and put on the new lingerie. We were both pretty worked up, and he's so persuasive."

"What, and I'm not going to get angry or weird; what made you decide it was ok to sleep with another man?"

"You. Nearly every time we get ready to make love, you tell me how exciting it would be for you to see me have sex with a stranger. I wanted to give you that gift."

"Well, that was sex talk. And Charlie is one of my closest friends. Not a stranger."

"We both said it to each other. As for strangers, you fucked all my closest girlfriends. They're not strangers either."

Aaron tried to think of a clever rebuttal. For a lawyer, he was outclassed in this cross-examination.

"If this is upsetting you, I'll stop, Jazzy offered. "I thought we were coming out to each other with all our truths. I want to know about each of my friends you fucked. Intimate details."

Aaron's hard-on was about to explode, and his head swirled.

He looked at his wife far differently than before. She was beyond simply attractive; she was beautiful, but the knowledge that she was an object of desire to his friends was empowering. She belonged to him, and they had each attempted to get her, but here she was, ready to please him. She pulled down his underwear and began to manipulate his cock up and down, gently masturbating him.

"Tell me about the hotel," Aaron asked.

"Charlie used an app to book it while we ate and then suggested we nap because neither of us should be driving. Okay, it was three bottles of wine, not one.

"We got to the room, and I had to pee so badly. You know I can't hold my wine. I ran into the bathroom and peed, and he stayed and watched. I was embarrassed at first, but then I enjoyed letting him watch. It was one of those long pees that feels like an orgasm.

"When I stood up, I gently unbuttoned my dress and let it fall away so I was standing in my new lingerie. Purple and black shelf bra with my nipples exposed. A thin matching crotchless G-string that let my black pussy lips hang down and spread.