The Perfect Wife

It was after midnight and I was lying in bed wide-awake, horny as hell, playing with my pussy, trying to get myself off. My husband John was asleep next to me snoring loudly as he always did when he slept on his back.

He had gone to sleep right after he fucked me. It was his usual five-minute fuck with his usual quick squirt, after which he kissed me on the cheek and said, "I love you." Then he rolled over and went to sleep. After a while he turned over on his back and started to snore.

John hadn't traveled in almost two weeks and I hadn't been properly fucked since his last trip. I thought about Bob's big cock and those long half-hour fucks as I stroked my clit. I was nowhere close to gettin off. Shit!

My mind flashed back over my life. I had just turned twenty-seven and had lived with my husband in a great suburb of Orlando for four years. We lived in a gated community in a lovely home with a pool and a golf course view and a great club nearby. And I loved my husband except ... except ... he couldn't give me orgasms!

John and his partner Bob specialized in Maritime Law -- what the English called Admiralty Law. The English have a fancy name for everything. Both John and Bob had great reputations so they traveled a lot all over Florida consulting with other lawyers about complex maritime cases, especially those that involved British ships in American waters.

Bob was single and I'd been fuckin him regularly for two years -- every time John went out of town. We'd been careful and no one knew about us. There had been only one close call a couple of months after we started fucking. John came back a night early and called Bob's cell phone on his way home from the airport about a meeting the next morning. If John hadn't made that call he would have walked into our bedroom with Bob in the saddle pounding away and me gruntin and pumpin my ass like a whore − but we made it with a few minutes to spare.

Bob is a fabulous fuck! He has what he calls his "nine-inch-pussy-pleaser" and although that damn thing may not be nine inches, it's bigger than any dick I ever saw. And I've seen a few.

I was not into big dicks in college. I fucked a dozen guys before I met John and what turned me on was not cock size, but stamina − a guy with the stamina to last long enough to bring me off. I take a long time to cum. Bob has a lot of stamina − and I've also discovered that a big dick speeds things up. I thought John had stamina when I married him but I was wrong − it was whisky and he doesn't drink that much now.

Bob's a slow fuck but he cums fast when I blow him. And Bob's rough with me and I like that. He treats me like a whore and maybe that's what I am, but Jesus! He fucks good. He fucks for almost two hours with very little rest and always gives me two big orgasms -- sometimes three. Two or three days of that kind of fucking and my whole pelvis is loose and relaxed for a week.

Then John comes back home and climbs in the saddle and I get a little five-minute fuck that does absolutely nothing for my pussy. Usually, like now, I lay in bed after John goes to sleep and play with my pussy like a high school girl and think about Bob's thick cock and masturbate till I cum.

Sometimes I think about Bob rolling me over on my belly roughly, grabbing my tits and squeezing them hard, then shoving that big thing into me and pounding me doggie with one hand squeezing my tits and the other massaging my clit. He fucks me like a slut with both of us grunting and sweating till I cum and then he pumps a big load of jism deep inside me. He always waits till I cum before he does, except when I'm doing him cowboy and he can't hold it.

My mind went back to that first fuck with Bob. That had been two years ago. A night that has become like a dream remembered -- actually more of a fantasy that I often use when I masturbate.

Bob and John and I had scheduled dinner at the club but John got a sudden frantic call from Miami about a surprise trial motion and had to fly down to read the testimony and advise the attorney how to handle it. Bob picked me up to take me to dinner.

John and I had been married for about two years and I had become tense and depressed for a long time because my sex life was such a disaster. Alone with Bob at the dinner table sipping after dinner cordials I had several more drinks than usual. I wasn't drunk but I was feeling the alcohol. Bob was a big, attractive man and I caught myself having several sexually explicit thoughts about him.

Bob and our golf pro were both good looking single guys and the gals in my bridge club often speculated who they might be playing around with. Like most clubs we had our share of "trophy" wives whose husbands were a bit older and sometimes neglected them. Now, a neglected pussy is a needy pussy and my bridge partners often speculated about Bob and his buddy satisfying those needs.

I was thinking about him fucking some horny trophy bitch when he asked me to dance. As we began to dance, I molded my body to his, a bit closer perhaps than was proper. He held me in his arms when the music stopped and then we danced to the next song. This time when I pushed my belly close I was certain he had an erection!

I pushed closer and when Bob knew I'd felt it, he reached down, casually, and positioned his cock up against his belly and pulled my body tightly against it. Erotically, I rubbed my belly against him. I needed to fuck. He got the message.

When the music stopped he whispered, "Are you ready to go?"

I nodded. There was no mistaking what he had in mind and I was just as eager as he was. I hadn't been properly fucked since I got married. Maybe Bob could do the job my husband couldn't do.

When we stood next to his car in the dark parking lot he took me in his arms and kissed me. He grabbed my ass with two hands and pulled me close. I could still feel that big hard on when I pressed against him. When he got me home I hopped out and pushed the code to open the garage.

"Better put your car in the garage," I said. "You never know who might drive by."

We headed straight for the bedroom. Neither of us had any doubt that we were going to fuck. Standing by the bed he kissed me again and I felt his right hand creep up under my blouse and begin exploring my tits. He popped my bra up and only minutes after we got upstairs my tits were naked and jiggling in his hand as he played with 'em. I was glad my tits were big and full and firm.

He played with 'em for several minutes -- jiggling them, working on my nipples and squeezing them. He was having fun. So was I. Then he moved his hand down. The top of my skirt was loose enough so his hand slipped in easily. He rubbed my belly for a while then moved under my bikini panties and down towards my pussy. He began tickling my mons. I have a thick hairy beaver that a lot of guys at the university liked to play with and he ran his fingers through the curly hair.

Then I felt a finger start stroking my clit. It was as hard as a rock now and my pussy was dripping wet. His middle finger moved down and slipped easily into my vagina between my wet lips and I spread my legs a little, so he could get inside me better. If he had had any doubts about whether I wanted to fuck, he knew when he felt the dripping wetness of my vagina that he was gonna score -- my pussy was getting ready for him. I was gonna spread my legs wide for his pleasure -- and he knew it!

He'd found exactly what guys are always looking for -- easy pussy. Damn! That felt so good after two long years without a decent fuck. This is so damned relaxing. I love it! This guy knows how to handle a wet pussy. I sure hope he knows how to fuck one. And I hope he's got stamina.

He took his time. He was getting me ready to fuck! He kept working on me till I was ready. Then he kept on working until I was MORE than ready. He really had me! I needed it! And the bastard knew it!

"Oh God fuck me. Fuck me now!" I said, pulling away from him and starting to strip.

I stripped down as fast as I could. I couldn't wait. I was as horny as a bitch in heat that just found a hound dog. When I got naked I didn't even pose for his pleasure. I just jumped into bed and spread my legs as wide as I could.

"Do me!" I begged.

He looked me over slowly and carefully. I could tell he liked what he saw. Then he started to undress very slowly. His hard on popped out when his shorts came off. I reached over and played with it. He was uncircumcised, which I like. And he was big and thick. I played with his testicles thinking how heavy they were and how they were gonna lift up high in his scrotum just before he pumped his load.

But he was taking his own sweet time feeling me up. Damn it! The bastard was teasing me and enjoying my eagerness. He had obviously had a lot of experience with very horny women. Those damn trophy wives!

He knew the hornier he got me, the better fuck I'd be -- and he was right. I was gonna work hard be the best fuck this guy ever had. I was grateful to him for ending my long dry spell.

He played with my body rubbing his hands over every inch of me -- tits and ass and pussy and all. I kept trying to pull him between my legs but he resisted. I needed to feel that hard thing inside me. Now!

I couldn't wait any longer! I begged him, "Fuck me, damn it! Fuck me! Please! Now!"

Slowly, much too slowly he moved between my legs and put the head of that big uncircumcised monster on the dripping lips of my vagina. I heaved my hips upwards as much as I could and at last he shoved that thing into me deep.

Damn! That cock felt good. I tightened my pussy a couple of times to give that strange new dick a user-friendly hello. If my pussy could talk she'd be saying, "Glad to see you! Have your fun in here!"

Then he starts to pound me and I'm matching his every thrust lifting my ass up to meet him. Oh yeah baby -- pound that pussy hard! It's all yours! Have your fun!
Our bodies are making a slapping sound as we bang together. My pussy starts making wet squishy sounds as that big dick moves in and out. My juices are dripping out and running down on his balls.

My clit's getting what she needs -- what she's needed for a long time. And my pussy will get something hard to grab hold of when she starts contracting. Vibrators work of course but your pussy needs something alive to clamp down on when you cum. That's why the good Lord made peckers.

Once we got our rhythm settled and we were both comfortable I reached down with my left hand and began to massage his balls. He had big balls and they hung low. I settled in fuckin and started to pray silently, "Dear Lord please don't let him cum too fast."

And he didn't! He just kept on pounding hard and regular. And when I realized it was going to be the kind of fuck I needed − the kind of fuck I hadn't had in two years − I just laid back, pumped my ass, and worked my clit up against his pubis.

I started to grunt and talk dirty like I always did when I was getting properly fucked. Slowly, very slowly, I felt my pelvis relax and my pussy grab that wonderful pecker. I was not a clock-watcher but that fuck must have lasted a good half hour before I felt my orgasm start to build.

It built slowly ... more and more and then WHAM! It hit me hard and my contractions started and my whole body began to tremble and I screamed and screamed till my orgasm was over. Then I lay there, legs loose and spread, helplessly bouncing in the air, as I took a hard pounding until Bob started to grunt and his testicles lifted up out of my hand and he pumped a big load deep.

Finally Bob's sweating body collapsed on mine and we both panted for air. It was without a doubt the best fuck I had ever had.

When he rolled off of me we lay resting in silence for perhaps five minutes. Then he rolled back, kissed me gently on the cheek, and began playing with my tits and stroking my body. I loved the smell and feel of a sweating male body close to me. That wonderful man was ready to go again.

I began to play with his soft dick. It was my turn to work up a sweat now -- fair's fair. I sat up and leaned over and took his semi-hard cock in my mouth. I didn't mind the taste of semen and vaginal secretions − suckin a recently used dick is part of a woman's work. I took that thick cock as deep as I could, back to my tonsils, but my lips got nowhere close to his pubic hair. I sucked and swirled my tongue around, as it grew larger.

After a minute or so he got nice and hard. I climbed on and mounted that beautiful thing to do him cowboy. I liked cowboy because I was in control -- I could rub my clit against him exactly the way I wanted to -- exactly the way I liked. I could set the rhythm to whatever I wanted.

I liked having my tits admired and played with and there was no better position than cowboy for that, because they were hanging down jiggling right over his face. I was supporting my weight on my arms and my nipples were only inches from his lips.

In college I used to laugh when I did a guy cowboy because it felt so damn good. Tonight I had a big smile on my face and there was enough light for me to see his expression too. It always turns me on to watch a guy work for his orgasm when he's underneath me and I'm in control. I took my time and enjoyed it.

I was sweating as I worked and sweat was running down my tits to my nipples and dripping off. I saw him staring up at the sweat on my jiggling tits and at the drops of sweat dripping off my nipples. It was turning him on big time.

He was strong and when he pumped his hips he just slammed up into my pussy and lifted my whole body up. Ten minutes, then fifteen went by and we kept on fuckin. Watching his expression and feeling his body move I could see him slowly lose control. I had the horny bastard now. He was mine! And as he got closer and closer I felt myself do the same. I pumped my ass furiously -- excited by watching him get excited.

Then, when he couldn't hold it a second longer, his body suddenly trembled and, with what was more of a whimper of surrender than a dominant masculine grunt, his cum just squirted out of him deep in my pussy. I dropped down onto his sweaty chest and rubbed my clit hard and fast against his pubic symphysis. My orgasm began just after his was complete. It was good and long. I felt my pussy grab on to that thick cock and squeeze it hard.

"Jesus! Oh sweet Jesus," he whispered, exhausted. I think I drained every drop of semen he had − drained the horny bastard dry.

I lay astride his sweating body as sweat ran off of my own -- my tits pressed flat against his muscular chest. My body was now thoroughly relaxed. I just lay on top of him, panting and resting. Damn! I love to fuck!

My tension was gone. My pussy felt great. My whole pelvis was relaxed. There is nothing like an orgasm to relax your pelvic muscles. I chuckled as I realized we had both acted on instinct just like two rutting animals thinking of no one but ourselves. As I went to sleep I decided that Bob was gonna get all the user-friendly pussy he wanted anytime my husband was out of town.

Before I realized what was happening, lying there next to my sleeping husband fingering my clit, I started to cum. Thinking about that first fuck had brought me off. But I had to be quiet so as not to wake up John. I always faked an orgasm with him and I certainly didn't want him to hear a real one. After my contractions stopped, I lay there relaxed, again thinking about Bob.

He'd fucked several other wives at the club before me − mostly trophy wives − but he doesn't do that very often any more: 'It's too obvious," he had said, and besides, "You're a fabulous fuck and you're safe because I know where John is when he travels."

I could hear his voice in my head as I lay there. "You like it rough and I like that. You fuck like a whore. Your loving hubby doesn't satisfy you at home − he fucks you like a lady not like a whore − and that makes you one horny slut when he's on the road."

About three months after I'd started fucking Bob regularly, John came home one night with a big grin on his face.

"Have I got a story for you," he said.

I poured him his usual Glenmorangie with a little water but no ice. He had learned to drink it that way in London where he spent a year studying Admiralty Law. I poured myself some lemon vodka on the rocks and we went out on the patio by the pool.

"Bob has a new girlfriend," he said.

My heart almost stopped!

I calmed myself down and said, "Tell me about it."

"Her name is Gail," he said. "Not really Gail but that's what he calls her because he's not telling me who she is. I think she's the wife of some poor bastard in our club who's not doing his husbandly duties very well. She needs her pussy pounded long and hard and her hubby can't cut it − can't make her cum. Pumps his little load before he can bring her off."

John then proceeds to give me a detailed description of how Bob fucks ME. Except Bob is fucking "Gail."

He talks about how Gail's a screamer who grunts and sweats and pumps her ass like a whore. He talks about how much she needs to fuck and how he takes his time and makes her beg for it. How her husband can't satisfy her because he's too small.

You bastard! I thought. You're telling this poor guy the details about fucking his own wife and John has no idea it's ME who's gettin fucked. John thinks it's funny to tease a horny bitch and make her beg for it. When John finishes the story he unzips his pants and pulls out an erection, pulls my pants down, and then fucks me, fully dressed, on the mat next to the hot tub. He was as horny as I had ever seen him.

John was due to leave town Tuesday. I was pissed at what Bob was doing to John and I wanted to look my best when I chewed him out, so I set up an appointment with my hairdresser for Monday.

My hairdresser called himself Jean-Pierre, but he was not French. He had named his shop "Jean-Pierre Vanity Hair" and began to use the name for himself, Pierre for short. He was from Brooklyn!

Pierre was gay − as queer as a three-dollar bill and he spoke with an exaggerated feminine voice, waving his hands like a girl, in what he thought might be a French accent. A flaming fairy, but in my opinion he was the best hairdresser in Orlando. I let him know I was meeting someone special the next day and he smiled knowingly.

"Madame, we'll be sure you look good for him," he said, assuming I was meeting a lover. Pierre was very discrete and I could trust him.

"I assume that for someone special Madame wants me to do BOTH top and bottom," Pierre said.

"Of course," I responded. I wanted Pierre to make sure my beaver looked as nice as my hairdo. He trimmed it about once a month. Several of the girls at the club received similar service − especially if they wore a bikini.

When he finished tinting and trimming my hair I stood up, unhooked the belt of my skirt and stepped out of it. I had come prepared. I was not wearing panties or hose and so I was naked from the waist down to my spike heels.

I kicked off my shoes and sat on a short table next to the dressing chair and lay back with my head on a pillow. I put my feet on the corners at the other end of the table with my knees in the air, and spread 'em wide. Pierre trimmed a lot of beavers and this table was his design to give him the best access to work on a pussy. Looking from his end of the table left nothing to the imagination.

I was not uncomfortable being half naked in front of Pierre, legs spread with my beaver in full view. For him, pussies were business not pleasure.

Standing at the end of the table he placed his hands on my knees.

"Please spread you legs a little wider, Madame."

Then he grasped my hips and said, "Scoot down a bit closer, Madame. That's it."

He studied my dark brunet, almost black, beaver and ran a comb through it several times. Then smiled at me.