Turnabout Pt. 03

Before this drastic alteration in bedtime practices came to be, I had been feeling pretty confident that I was becoming quite an aficionado at creampie baking. The master creampie chef. A connoisseur of creampie, if you will.

There is a learning curve for mastering what to eat and drink -- along with what to avoid -- for making the best cream for creating sumptuous creampies. All of which was accomplished without once tasting my cum by itself. The only thing that mattered was that cum mixed with pussy juice made for good eating. In the process of all this experimenting, eating creampies rapidly became something to be repeated and enjoyed often. A delightful indulgence anytime, day or night.

Then there was the continuous state of arousal my wife kept me in, along with periods of denied release. Combined, both seemed to impact the overall volume of my ejaculations -- as in, increasing it. Close to what my younger days were like.

Sadly, it still took close to two hours to regain the ability to ejaculate a second time. (Only slightly longer than it took before I could even get another solid erection.) But when given the time and the opportunity, those second-round ejaculations were even more intense and just as voluminous.

Another unfortunate side-effect developed; as the amount of semen increased, so did the sensitivity of my hair trigger. It was becoming impossible to prevent almost instantaneous orgasms. Any more sensitive, I feared a stiff breeze might be enough to cause my little pistol to go off.

Thankfully, these more rapid ejaculations didn't seem to bother Marie in the least. Her delight in the way I gleefully lapped up and swallowed my spunk afterward always brought forth non-stop verbal encouragement, culminating in a rousing climax. That orgasm never failed to expel every last drop of our combined cum into my mouth.

Anyway, I had reached the point where eating a cum filled pussy was possibly more important to me than the intercourse necessary to make it. It was certainly lasted longer, making it all the more enjoyable.

Creampies without copulation? I just might be alright with that.

Still, I wasn't prepared for being cajoled into playing along with Marie's latest idea for a game she wanted us to play. This "game" required me to give up both the intercourse AND the creampies. Also included in the deal was total abstention from masturbation! What on earth came over me to agree to those conditions?

However, once a commitment was made, Marie was not one for any alterations. There would not be any take-backs or re-negotiations.

No sooner had I foolishly consented to play this game when Marie's focus on keeping me aroused became laser-sharp and more intense than ever.

Not only would she find ways to touch and rub me in suggestive ways to get a rise out of my dick. But she would also insist that I flash my erection to her, quite often in settings where the possibility of being spotted doing so by strangers was almost inevitable. And as I wasn't permitted underwear when not at work, flashing was relatively easy. Maintaining a hair-free body had continued. So, had anyone seen me exposing myself, without a nest of hair down there, they would have seen precisely everything that was and wasn't there.

Marie liked teasing me about that very thing. Which, again, always got my dick to stiffen.

On several occasions, when taking an after-dinner walk around the neighborhood, I was made to wear this extra-long t-shirt she'd found. It was more like wearing a short sundress or girls' nighty. Anyway, this hid the fact that my dick was poking out the fly of my pants. Since the shirt was so long, I was once made to go out without any shorts on at all. The breezes that evening were such that I risked exposure several times. But damned if doing these things didn't keep my little man standing at attention. Often with a tell-tail stain of pre-cum on the tail of my shirt as my boner waved from side-to-side.

On one hot Indian summer day, things really got out of hand.

Marie and I were out walking our local bike and footpath. Due to the heat, I had taken off my shirt, tucking it into the waistband of my shorts. Noting that the path was surprisingly vacant, I teased Marie to take her top off as well, saying, "It seems only fair that if guys can go topless, so should women." Instead, she turned the tables on me by saying that she would consider going topless if I went bottomless. Of course, I laughed at her.

A devilish look came to her face. "You want me to take off my top? You take off your shorts, and I'll think about taking my top off. That way, we'll both be taking the same risks." I was stunned, but I also really wanted to call her bluff. At least that way, we would both be just as much at risk of being caught.

"Go on," she said seductively. "Take off your shorts, and I'll take off my top." As I mulled over the risk of possibly getting caught versus the potential reward of my wife freeing her breasts to the great outdoors, she snapped at me. "Do it now! I dare you." After a quick check of our surroundings, I did as she instructed.

My dick showed its excitement at being free as I dropped my shorts to my ankles. But when I went to step out of them, they got caught on my sneakers, causing me to fall over. My arms and hands kept me from falling flat on my face but left my midsection still in the air like some sort of four-legged spider. None of this commotion could prevent my dick from stiffening further. The prospect of walking nakedly in broad daylight with the potential of getting caught had me tingling inside.

Marie took advantage of my situation by repeatedly pinching my ass. Shaking one foot free of its entanglement, then the other, I was finally completely naked. Out on a public path! Exposing all of myself to all of nature.

Through it all, Marie was chuckling and smiling. All proud of herself for goading me into doing this.

I didn't care. This was indeed extremely exciting and had my boner throbbing. Freeing me further, Marie took both my shorts and shirt from my hands and tucked them into her waistband.

We resumed walking. The physical and emotional feeling of it all was almost overwhelming. That quickly, I had forgotten all about Marie's promise of matching the challenge.

Streamers of pre-cum were flowing, leaving skinny, shinny trails on the pavement and down the sides of my legs. Even Marie seemed to be enjoying the show.

So much so, without me even bringing it up, she prepared to join me. Just as she hooked her thumbs into the bottom of her sports bra, up ahead, another couple on bikes suddenly rounded the bend in the path.

Panicked, I froze. Should I get dressed or run for cover? I chose to head for cover in the woods. I never ran so fast, my boner slapping my belly as I ran.

Only I didn't get very far into the woods when it happened. An orgasm so strong I collapsed onto my hands and knees in the underbrush, balls of cum shot out of my pulsing dick. Marie just stood there laughing as the couple rode by. "You look like a cow being milked!"

Completely spent and not caring what anyone saw, I rolled over onto my back. Even then, smaller but forceful cum continued to jettison from my wilting erection onto my belly.

The couple came to a quick stop to check if I was alright. But as soon as they realized what had happened, they hurried along. Still, they would have heard my wife calling out to me. "Hey, Jeff. Are you going to stay there sunbathing? Or do you want to put your clothes back on?" Still catching my breath, I simply waved for her to bring them to me. "No, sir. Not me. I might catch poison ivy. You'll have to come out here to get them."

Even in the state I was in, I was pretty sure there was no poison ivy in the vicinity. But before I could say so, she huffed, "I'm going on. There's a park bench up ahead. I'll leave your stuff on it. You can catch up to me when you're ready to."

Physically drained, I got to my feet as quickly as I could. Evidently, that wasn't fast enough because Marie had powered on. No sooner had I made my way back to the path when I saw her a few hundred feet up ahead. With hardly a break in her stride, she dropped my shirt and shorts onto the park bench and continued on.

Using every ounce of remaining energy, I began jogging towards the bench, hoping and praying that no one else came along before I could get dressed.

Well, as you might guess, my prayers were not answered. I'll leave it to your imagination to picture what happened. (No, I wasn't arrested for indecent exposure.)

Day after day, the torturing continued. We could be out running errands or going to a friend's house. Marie would wait until we were surrounded by people. That's when she would slyly whisper something like, "Check out the bulge in that guy's pants. Do you think he'd like to fuck me?" or, "Sometimes when you weren't looking, your friend Ted has tried getting into my pants. I think it's about time I let him."

While attending a neighborhood pool party, Marie approached me, all moon-eyed. "Connie's nineteen-year-old son's Speedo is doing nothing to disguise the tempting package inside. Do you think I should give him some lessons on how to properly use such a handsome tool?"

It was this constant barrage of suggestive remarks keeping me on edge. And no sooner had Marie made such comments when she'd step far enough away that any response from me would have been heard by countless others. Leaving me to imagine all sorts of obscene thoughts.

Whether it was paying attention to shopping, a neighbor's conversation, or some toy my daughter is showing me, my mind was often elsewhere.

Visions of one stud or another pounding away at my wife's hole kept floating through my brain, leaving me worried that someone might notice my hard-on. Worse still, I couldn't avoid wondering what their sperm might taste like mixed with my wife's own juices as it oozed from her well-used cunt. My mouth would begin salivating at the possibility of being able to find out.

Even when Marie and I weren't together, all of her teasing and tormenting was taking a toll on me, both physically and mentally.

I could no longer properly concentrate and stay focused on the tasks at hand; even my job performance was affected. I constantly felt anxious, and my patience was running short while my dick was sore from the persistent erections. The increasing pressure in my lower gut had me convinced that my prostate must have doubled in size. I know my balls had a heaviness like I'd never known before.

Maybe it was creampie withdrawal. Or simply a desperate need to have an orgasm. But after almost three weeks of this, I felt like I was being torn apart at the seams.

As sure as anything, to remedy my condition, only one thing needed to happen: Marie had to do what she had been threatening to do. My wife needed to get laid!

Just by all the teasing, innuendo, and outright statements Marie had been making, obviously, she was seriously opening herself to following through. Safe to say that she also had a condition in desperate need of a remedy.

This wife and mother getting solidly fucked and creamed by a mighty stud was the precise prescription to cure this couple's ills.

As if there was any question about it, I definitely wanted Marie to get what Marie needed. With every ounce of love I had for the woman, I wanted my wife to get fucked, and fucked good. In every way, I was incapable of providing.

Alright! So my desire for this to take place wasn't wholly unselfish. But if Marie could get a dose of what she needed, that would undoubtedly relieve at least some of my pent-up frustration.

My depravity had reached such depths. I no longer doubted that I'd be thrilled beyond belief if my lovely wife consented to taking a lover. Then returning with proof of having gotten laid by showing me another man's cum leaking from her snatch.

Still, there was only one thing that could truly treat what was ailing me. The one medicine needed to cure my ills. I needed my wife to feed me that cum filled creampie from her unfaithful pussy. The fuller, the better.

Well, this one Friday afternoon, while driving home from work, Marie called me on my cellphone. Almost immediately, she started up again, doing her best to both excite and torment me. Only this time, I hit my limit. I couldn't take it anymore. It was time to stop talking about it and just DO IT!

"Please, hon," I cried out into the phone. "You are making me go nuts. Look, I can't talk while I'm driving. Wait until I get home, then we'll talk." On the rest of my drive, I worked out just what I'd say.

Opening the front door, I first checked to ensure our daughter wasn't within earshot before picking up where I left off. "Instead of torturing me with my inability to scratch your itch, why not go out and find someone who can scratch that itch better than I can?" Marie looked bemused by my bluntness. "You know how much I love you and love being with you. But I really think you should get changed and go out on your own tonight." I was actually saying what I'd wanted to say for so long.

"I was thinking that you should check out The Alpine tavern. You know that every time we've been there, there are always lots of hot young studs there just looking for a quick hookup. And since it's Friday, there should be plenty to choose from. It's still early. The place doesn't really start hoppin' for a couple of hours. Plenty of time for you to get all snazzed-up. Hey, and from what I've heard, with it being Friday and all, the place has also seen a bunch of out-of-town construction workers coming in and buying pretty ladies' drinks. All of them, really looking to work off a week's worth of frustrations."

Even I could hardly believe everything I was saying. "If you wear that sexy outfit you just bought, I bet the guys will be falling all over you. You could have your pick of the litter. Guaranteed, you'd be the hottest ass any of them has ever had!"

But Marie seemed prepared for this and shot back with, "I'm not interested in some back alley or back seat quickie. I can get that at home with you," she said snidely, adding, "And I don't have to get dressed up for you."

I know I must have looked stunned as well as dejected. But after a few beats, she took hold of my hand and more calmly said, "If I'm going to have a one-off with someone, I need to be able to make the most of it. I'm going to want to take my time with him. In a nice, comfortable setting."

She looked at me all doe-eyed. "After all, for the last few months, I've only had your short little thing." Then Marie's lips curled into a smirk. "My pussy is more than ready for another deep-dive."

My face lit up. To hear my wife talking like this had my heart doing back-flips and dick juicing in my pants.

Marie had finally outright admitted her willingness to go for it. And there was little doubt I wanted this to happen. There had to be a solution. Still, the very next thing out of my mouth surprised even me. "How about if I spring for a motel room?"

Well, sir, that got her attention. Her face lit up like a beacon.

With a smile a mile wide, didn't she turn it around and into another game? "Tell you what..." she started. "Prove to me that you want me to go to bed with another man. That you want another man's hard cock sliding into your wife's pussy. That you love me so much that you want my pussy, the very pussy you're married to, stretched in ways that you can't. Are you willing to prove that you are such a sick pervert that you want your wife to be injected with the seed of a stranger?"

There it was again. That subtle non-specific notion that this could lead to someone other than me impregnating my wife. When she first alluded to the possibility of getting knocked up from that "special reunion" with Roger, I had been so overwhelmed by everything that was going on, the subject quickly got clouded over and forgotten.

Not this time, though. This time, the mere assertion that my wife could possibly get pregnant could not be overlooked. Whether her remark was a conscious statement of fact or just an incidental choice of words, it pierced my brain like a needle being shoved through my skull.

Up until that moment, birth control was something Marie and I hadn't needed to think about for, literally, years. Long gone were the days of marking the calendar for prime ovulation days.

It had taken so long for Marie to get pregnant with Megan that we had ourselves tested. It turned out that my viable sperm count was extremely low. And of the relatively few swimmers I did have, many were deformed or mutated. (Something to do with an illness I had in my formative teen years.) Just as we were preparing to give up, one of my guys successfully made the trip and got the job done.

However, there still remained a higher than average possibility the pregnancy could be complicated if it was one of the imperfect sperms that hit the target.

Fortunately, all turned out well. But, we acknowledged that we had been lucky this one time. To avoid another risky pregnancy, and since I was the defective one, it was decided that I get a vasectomy.

Initially, Marie was disappointed but came to accept that I would never be able to give her another child.

Ever since, for more than six years, whenever we've had sex, birth control wasn't given a second thought. And that is why I had entirely overlooked one simple fact: My wife still had a fully functioning baby baking oven. The only thing the oven had been missing was a proper batter. IE: Baby Batter, containing ALL the necessary ingredients.

Yet somehow, no sooner had I put those two pieces together, and more aware of what lay at stake, it only intensified my desire for Marie to get fucked, and fucked good.

As a rule, I am not much of a gambler. But since I had no idea where things stood regarding when my wife would be ovulating, there was an undeniable risk factor. One that seemed too enticing to pass up. Timing is everything, and the odds were stacked against it. Still, the gamble of everything timing out just so, and the prospect that my wife might actually end up getting knocked up by a stranger was obscenely intoxicating.

Without question, should that happen, I would accept his baby. Raising it and loving it as if it were my own.

Just the same, I trembled with excitement at the possibility.

- End of Part 3 -