This Cock Tastes Like My Wife

But at some point I stopped focusing on the pleasure of being able to screw someone else's wife, and began to ponder the other aspect of wife swapping that I'd largely ignored; what it was like to have another man screwing mine at the same time? It didn't take long for me to discard the idea of screwing other men's wives and completely zero in on the latter. I knew DD wouldn't swap with me, but would she cheat?

The thought scared the shit out of me to the point of making me sick in the stomach at first, partly because we had drifted so far apart that I couldn't rule it out. She had after all, cheated on her first husband with me. But at the same time it excited me like nothing else ever had. Imagining my prude, pseudo-asexual wife, whoring around like some cheap slut, gave me a rush.

Maybe it was easier to harbor a fantasy like that because we weren't as close at the time, so it was easier to detach myself from the emotional side of things. It was also easier for me to picture it as a reality more so than a fantasy, because unlike the other fetishes I'd obsessed over; this was something she'd actually done before. I knew I wasn't the first person she'd cheated on her ex-husband with.

My newest sexual obsession had begun. After that, every time I watched porn I imagined that it was my wife getting fucked on that screen, by someone other than me. I drifted away from the swinger sites and found more of an infatuation with sites that focused solely on men watching their wives fuck other men. I learned the term cuckold and it became a staple in my search engine.

That led me to Literotica. At first I wasn't so interested in reading about sex I could be watching on a video. But porno, with all of the cheesy plot lines, if there was one at all, left something to be desired. I knew those guys sitting their watching the porn starlet get screwed weren't actual husbands.

Somehow it became just as important to me how they got to the scene as what happened in it. I wanted more realism in my fantasies, because for a while, there was a big part of me that actually considered just how real this fantasy could become. And I wanted that, I wanted DD to spread her legs for another man.

It started with scenarios involving women who fucked men to please their voyeuristic husbands. But like everything else in the dark world of my obsession, it escalated. Soon I was paying attention to the most extreme, humiliating, cuckold stories there were. I couldn't get enough of it. As my obsession grew, my self-esteem plummeted.

There were days I'd want to throw up just looking at my wife. The guilt of knowing what dirty fantasies I had about her ate at me. Our marriage was hanging on by a thread, and thinking about losing her forever was the saddest feeling in the world. One minute I'd be plotting on how to get her laid, the next I'd be racking my brain trying to figure out how to fix things between us.

I was posting on cuckold websites asking strangers for advice on how to get DD to fuck someone else. I was serious about it. But no good advice came. Then I'd be on relationship websites asking strangers how to put the fire back in my marriage. No good advice came.

Then one day I found an online friend named Ron. He was the author of some of my favorite cuckold stories from Literotica. I'd sent him a rather jubilant e-mail expressing my love of his work one day, which was more like worshipping at his feet since I was rock hard in my fantasy mindset when I wrote it. He replied in kind, and we began an ongoing dialogue about my wife, and my fantasies.

Deep down I realized this guy was probably as sick as I was, but he also seemed very grounded and down to earth. Who was I to judge? We were seeds from the same tree. He made no outlandish claims about his experiences in the lifestyle, although he vaguely admitted to having some hands on experience with cuckolding. He didn't give me any pie-in-the-sky idea's about turning my wife into an overnight whore, but he did do his part in persuading me to pursue it. Sometimes I got the feeling he wanted to see it happen for me as badly as I did at the time.

By the same token, he appeared sympathetic to the conflicted nature of my desires. He listened and showed empathy when I backpedaled and recanted my deviant wishes in favor of rekindling the love in my marriage. He could be a total perv right along with me, or play the role of marriage councilor. Not only that, he was the only one I had to discuss such things with. I might have gone nuts if I hadn't had that outlet to vent my conflicted feelings.

During that vulnerable time in my life, I shared more information about myself and DD than any logical person would ever consider giving a stranger. Hell, I'd sent him pictures of DD and myself, talked about work, talked about family, this guy could have written my biography. But Ron never felt like a stranger to me, he was a friend. A very strange friend, but the same could have been said about me from his end.

Then came that strange night - the night I'd taken the picture of DD naked on our bed. She'd come home drunk off her ass after another drinking binge at Bennigans. I was fully prepared for another unprovoked attack on my character and a lengthy, emotional fight. I was used to it when she came home in that state. I got attacked all right, but in a very different way.

DD started peeling off her clothes the second she stepped in the door, laughing and stumbling around. I stood there in a total state of confusion, wondering what had happened to my wife. She stripped off everything but her thigh-high stockings and tackled me to the living room floor, kissing me with the kind of passion that hadn't existed between us in years.

I was stunned but not about to ruin the moment by asking for an explanation, so I went with it. She was aggressively ripping off my clothes and using sexual innuendo like I'd never heard come out of her mouth before, save for the first night I'd met her. For the first time since the night I met her, we fucked somewhere other than the bedroom, as she mounted me and rode me hard right on the living floor. That was another first, DD never got on top.

I remembered her pussy being wetter than I'd ever felt it before; it was sloppy and made a huge mess of our carpet. I remembered the hungry look in her eyes as she fucked me. Her aggressiveness had turned me on so much that I couldn't manage to make it last more than couple of minutes. But she wasn't satisfied with that.

She led me to the bedroom and told me she was feeling naughty. That's when the camera came out, at her suggestion. She was posing for me in various suggestive positions, showing me an exhibitionistic side of her that I never knew existed. Unfortunately, in my excitement I'd forgot to put the memory card in the camera! It was too late when I finally realized it and dug out the memory card. She'd lost her mood for posing and I'd only gotten the one last photo of her kneeling on the bed, before she snatched the camera from me and moved on to something else.

That something else was sucking my cock. That was big deal for me, because I could count on one hand the number of blowjobs she'd given me in the four years prior to that; three. She sucked me like she never had before that night, she was hungry and enthusiastic about it unlike the other times, and she refused to quit before I came. Having already cum once I was lasting quite a while, until she threw another curveball my way.

While sucking my cock, she lubricated a finger with her mouth, reached between my legs and slithered her finger into my ass! That was my introduction the prostate massage, and with her working me over with her finger and mouth at the same time, I was blowing seed all over her face in no time flat.

Staring at my sexy wife with my cum splattered all over her face drove me nuts. She looked the part of the cock hungry cum slut I'd always made her out to be in my fantasies. When she pulled me to her lips and kissed me that way, it was one of the most erotic things she'd ever done.

She didn't wipe it off either when she demanded I fuck her again. I was exhausted but she did all the work, riding my face for a very long time while I licked her sloppy pussy before hopping on my dick again and riding me until the sun came up. The next day she was silent and hardly even looked at me. I knew she was embarrassed about it.

But after that, things began to change for the better. Sex was still as mundane as ever on her sober days, but when she drank there was a lot less arguing and a lot more fucking. A blowjob was a virtual lock, along with the accompanying prostate massage, and I always got to blow my load on her face. She was aggressive, and needy, and took control. All I did was hang on for the ride and do whatever she asked.

The catch 22 was that her drinking became much less frequent, and with it so did the good sex. But the rift between us seemed to dissipate. We were talking and communicating again, and enjoying each others company like we had before. It was like we'd somehow re-fallen in love. The next six months were good.

With our relationship on more solid ground, I all but abandoned the idea of getting her to fuck other men. I did not however, abandon the fantasy. Wanting DD to be a slut for other men was still an obsession, and if anything, the obsession became even stronger. But I'd finally resigned myself to leaving it forever as a fantasy. I no longer thought of ways to actually make it happen.

I sighed deeply after recounting those events in my head, feeling a little less horny than before.

"Here I go again," I shook my head, "A fucking slave to a fantasy." I pulled up Literotica and clicked on one of my favorite stories, one written by Ron.

I looked at the lotion, but hesitated to begin my ritual. I sat there, idle, cursing myself. I could have been fucking my beautiful wife, but instead I was about to masturbate to the idea of her fucking someone else. I rarely felt such remorse before an orgasm, that self-torture was reserved for afterwards, but that night was different.

I almost clicked off the Internet and went to try and make another go at my wife. And even if she wasn't going to put out that night maybe I'd just hold her...but I didn't. And that would later prove to be a life changing decision.