Turnabout Pt. 08

A warning for those who don't read the "TAGS" or haven't been following along. Throughout this story and at various times, a wide range of fetish and kink elements are explored. These include, but are not limited to, Humiliation, Exhibitionism, Small Penis Humiliation (SPH), Submissive Male, Dominant Female, Rimming, Cuckolding, Creampies, Cum Eating, Pee Drinking, and more.

The story revolves around a loving and devoted couple. A couple who, after years of the same ol', same ol', jointly decide to explore more of life's sexual possibilities while helping each other satisfy latent and long-ignored needs. In the process, testing not only their own but their partner's sexual limits.

If your tastes run in a different direction, you probably should consider selecting a different story.

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The street light in front of the house provided the only illumination in the bedroom. And that was faint at best. Yet sight was not required for the truth to reveal itself.

The heat radiating from Marie's inner thighs and the puffiness of her clean-shaven Mons pubis could not conceal the obvious. My wife had endured a great deal of friction in that region.

This was further evidenced when my tongue made first contact. The gentle sighs coming from Marie told me that her pussy had been given a pretty good workout, and I was providing much-needed relief. Delving deeper revealed that the outer lips of her pussy were swollen and burning hot. However, it was the long, thick, and wiry pubic hair I removed from my mouth that ultimately put the exclamation mark on everything. Another man's groin had been in close contact with my wife's.

Concern over her comfort and well-being caused a momentary distraction from my own treasure hunt. Oh, so tenderly, my lips and tongue kissed and licked her delicate flower. Marie showed her appreciation of my gentleness by softly moaning and petting my head.

Aside from smelling my wife's own sweet scent, the same muskiness of her lover's groin I had noticed when we kissed was present here as well. However, my sinuses also detected a third, unnatural odor -- one that reminded me of a bicycle inner tube.

My taste buds were also picking up an odd, chemical-like taste. Both the flavor and the smell were non-organic.

Instead of being treated to a delicious mix of pussy juice and cum, (A.K.A.; Creampie Heaven), the taste seemed more aligned with something manufactured!

My inner voice screamed, [This isn't right. Where is my reward? What about my creampie???]

Tenderness and gentleness flew out the window. I plastered my face against Marie's womanhood.

Marie yelped. "Take it easy!" Even though her speech was somewhat slurred, the discomfort in her voice was unmistakable. "Not so rough. Everything is sore down there."

Although sensitive to her pleadings, my own sexual frustrations drove me forward on my quest for the key missing ingredient. My tongue stretched into her depths.

"Oww!" she exclaimed. "Stop digging! There is no creampie. Omar wore a condom."

[A CONDOM?!?!] Just as those words were registering, I felt something unnatural tickle the tip of my tongue. But the shock of what I just heard stopped me dead in my tracks, forcing me to raise my head to let it sink in. [A condom wasn't part of the deal. My wife gets fucked, and I got screwed!]

Disappointment and envy washed over me.

Then something else hit me. [Omar?! Did I need to be told his name???]

No one ever forgets the name of the person they lose their virginity to. And just like that, his name would live on in my memory forever.

Indeed, that would hold true for Marie as well. It wouldn't have mattered if the hook-up had been great or simply okay. 'Omar' would forever be remembered as the first true outsider invited to fuck her married pussy.

Even if this were never to occur again. Omar was now, and would always be, known by both of us as Marie's very first random hook-up since becoming my wife.

Suddenly, I was confronted with guilt. [What's wrong with me?] After years of conniving and recommending that Marie find another man to fuck her, she finally did precisely that. All I had been wishing and praying for was that one day my wonderful wife would have sex with a man who's better equipped than me. Now that she had done the deed, I knew I should be happy for her. It had already been such a delight to see and experience Marie's newfound sexuality. Best of all was the gratitude I felt when she returned home to me.

Not only had Marie come back home, but all indications were that she still WANTED me.

In a calm, inebriated whisper, she asked, "Please, if you can do it gently, will you lick me some more."

[Um... Now that could be a problem.] As long as that weird taste and smell remained, any desire to continue licking down there had significantly diminished

Until she said, "Your tongue will make my pussy feel so much better." That prompted a shift in my attitude. It also reignited my desire for her and overrode any objections to the taste and smell.

Ignoring all other sensory input, I lowered my head, extended my tongue, and set about tenderly licking and soothing my precious wife's labia.

"Oh yes," she softly purred. "That feels good, baby. Only you would do this for me. Mmmm... I could easily get used to this." My own inner voice perked up. [See! I'm not just wanted. I am NEEDED!]

Like a happy puppy, I lapped and licked my wife's slit from top to bottom and back again, all the while being as gentle as I knew how. Just above a whisper, I heard Marie say. "I love this. My devoted husband on his knees before me, tenderly worshiping my pussy after being properly fucked by a properly endowed man."

[Okayyy... Well, so what if I'm needed more than wanted. It's good to be needed.]

As if to ensure my oral activities wouldn't stop, Marie had thrown her legs over my shoulders with her heels against my back. "I'm sorry there was no creampie for you," she whispered apologetically. "But I gotta say that you were right." Her tone became more enthused as she continued, "Getting fucked by a stranger was fun. Coming home to this kind of treatment makes it that much better. My devoted husband worshiping my defiled and unfaithful vagina makes me feel like royalty. I should have done this a long time ago." Hearing my beloved wife talking like this had my ears buzzing and my heart pounding with joy.

"Mmmm. What your doing feels so good. But I'm so tired and need to get some sleep. Only I forgot to pee, and now I'm too relaxed to get up again." Without another word, a small squirt of piss shot into my mouth. This was an unmistakable cue that additional services were required of me.

Pulling Marie by her hips, her ankles locked tightly behind me, I slid both of us towards the foot of the bed until my knees hit the floor. Using my tongue, I parted my wife's puffed-up vaginal lips and sealed my mouth onto her hairless womanhood. And just like that, my mouth rapidly filled with her steaming hot piss. An enjoyable dynamic was added to Marie's urine from the alcohol she had consumed. Gulping, no matter how quickly, wasn't going to keep up with the torrent. Opening my gullet allowed the piss to flow directly to my stomach, thus preventing any spillage.

As her steam flowed effortlessly down my throat, I was thinking, [Okay, so maybe I didn't get to swallow a cummy creampie tonight. But, mmmm... My insides are being warmed nicely by my wonderful wife's golden waters.] That warmth quickly spread throughout my body.

The sound of Marie's gentle moans of relief was all due to my servitude. This filled me with immense pride and caused my inner voice to shout with glee. [I AM needed! AND I am being useful. How sweet is that?!]

After the last drop had been squeezed out and I felt she had recovered sufficiently, I moved up to snuggle with my wife some. Marie whispered a barely audible yet heartfelt, "Thank you, babe." We then shared a tender and meaningful kiss. She didn't even complain about the mixed tastes of pussy and pee still within my mouth.

By now, it was closing in on four in the morning, way past our usual bedtime. Even as exhausted as Marie was from her adventurous outing, she was suddenly re-energized, wound up, and ready to talk.

Although I was also in desperate need of sleep, my dick was achingly erect. I was horny as hell, and my mind filled with a gazillion questions and eager to hear all about everything I had missed. No sooner had I asked, "So, how was it?" I had to admonish myself. [What a lame question.] "I mean, ahh, so, I take it, you liked being with another man?"

I waited for an answer, but the longer it took for Marie to respond caused me to begin panicking. [Oh crap! She hadn't liked it after all.] A great sense of regret began boiling up inside me. I had pushed my wife into doing the unthinkable and damaged our relationship in the process.

Just as I was opening my mouth to apologize and ask for forgiveness, Marie said, "I liked it. I liked it a lot!" This blew me away. Then she asked me, "How much do you want to hear? I don't want you to get upset."

I was beside myself with joy and curiosity. "Don't worry about me. Heck, I'm the one who started this in the first place."

Marie responded quickly and assertively, "That's right. You did start it all. So it would be your own fault if you ended up all pissed off now that I did what you said you wanted me to do." Apparently, the effects of alcohol were wearing off. Both Marie's diction and mental capacities were returning. Squeezing her hand, I told her to not hold anything back and tell me everything. And so she began. "Okay, so it wasn't everything I had built it up to be going in. But still, Omar was a pretty good lover."

My heart was pounding in my chest as my wife of ten years began describing her very first go at infidelity with a stranger. Along with casualness and confidence, there was a noticeable amount of excitement in her voice.

The way Marie told it, from the moment she stepped into the tavern, even though the place wasn't all that crowded, she felt like she was the star attraction. Every man there, young and old, seemed to be checking her out. Even those who already had a female by his side. Since there were still some empty spots at the bar, she chose to sit on the middle of three empty stools. She pretended not to notice the clamor for those two remaining spots.

Even before she could order her first cocktail, she was flanked by men on each side of her.

Nervousness kicked in. Marie wasn't used to getting this kind of attention from strangers. Overhearing what she had requested, both men ordered for her. Within moments, she had two screwdrivers sitting in front of her. To calm her nerves, she chugged the first one. That then allowed her to relax some and sip on the other.

Over the course of the next couple of hours, she danced with, had more drinks bought for her, and was propositioned by about a dozen guys. The more she drank, the more comfortable chatting, laughing, dancing became. Allowing her to loosen up like she hadn't done since college.

Almost as an aside, Marie mentioned how the alcohol had not only made flirting easier, but dancing was also more fun. However, the drink hindered her ability to walk in a straight line. Upon exiting the ladies' room, she literally stumbled into a guy. Fortunately, he caught her before any damage was done. After thanking him, she apologized for being so clumsy, and luckily the guy had been very nice about it.

Marie paused as if deep in thought. Still somewhat under the influence of her drinking, she began mumbling to herself. Of the slurred utterances I could make out, it sounded like she was saying, "Too bad he was on his way out." "Why couldn't I have run into him much earlier?"

Though, one remark came through loud and clear: "Talk about tall, dark, and handsome. Check, check, and double-check."

Still lying side-by-side, that remark caused my boner to bounce and prompted me to give her hand a squeeze. This seemed to snap her out of her trance. She collected her thoughts and resumed telling her story.

According to what she was telling me, all were very, if not overly, friendly. Of them, several held the potential for satisfying her main objective of the evening: Giving her a good fucking.

Unfortunately, so far, each of these skirt chasers presented one vexing problem: They all were locals.

Marie said that she couldn't stop thinking about the after-effects of having a one-nighter with one of those guys. Suppose he had connections to someone she works with. Or what if it turned out that he was one of her daughter's teachers. Worse still, a classmate's father?

Even if none of those were the case, there was every likelihood their paths would cross days later. How weird would that feel?

Those haunting thoughts were enough to keep her from doing anything more than socializing with these guys.

While she continued flirting, dancing, and accepting drinks from anyone who made an effort, the field of real contenders had narrowed considerably.

Time was running out. If something didn't change soon, she would have to throw caution to the wind and submit to taking on one of the locals. Either that or go without. And she didn't like that option in the least.

Things were looking rather bleak when her luck suddenly took a turn for the better. "From the moment I first noticed Omar, something told me that he was not from around here. First off, he was sitting all by himself. While he didn't look sad, he did look like he was lonesome. Like he could use some companionship. In just those few moments, I somehow knew he wasn't looking for anything long-term. Without ever speaking to him, I read him like a book. I knew he was definitely into something short-term."

As my wife is telling me this, there was a wistfulness in her voice. "I think he had his sights on me before I noticed him. Even from a distance, I saw the hunger in his eyes. It was almost hypnotizing. I don't know what came over me, but I knew I had to meet him."

"I picked up my drink glass, one a guy sitting next to me had just bought for me, and I subtlety raised it in Omar's direction. When he smiled back at me, I melted a little inside. Raising his glass towards me, we shared an air toast to the other." Marie gave a little chuckle. "It's kind of ironic. He was drinking his beer, and I was sipping a cocktail bought by some other man."

She didn't know this stranger's name but said, from that point on, she felt a strong need to speak with him and get to know him better.

However, before that could happen, one of the other tail-chasers had talked her into heading back to the dance floor.

Luck was on her side, however. Just as the song ended, the lonely stranger was there, ready to take that guy's place. After that, it was all but a done deal.

"He was so smooth. The next song had a strong bass beat. It wasn't long before we were doing a seductive bump and grind. Somehow, over the loud music, we managed to exchange names. Omar's interest in me was very evident. Each time we did our little grind, I could feel the lump in his pants. It was getting me so wet and horny. When that song ended, another guy was ready to take his place. I don't know what Omar did or said, but the guy suddenly slithered away."

Listening to this had my pecker bouncing and throbbing in my shorts. A steady trickle of pre-cum also oozed out as I absorbed every word my wife said.

Marie went on to tell me that the next song was a slow tune. While Omar gently but securely held her against himself, the solid bulge in his pants pressed tightly into her pelvic bone. The song and the dance gave them both a chance to talk. It turned out that he was a long-haul trucker from several states away.

Next, it was Marie's turn to tell about herself. This is where my wife's story took on a whole other dimension. Noticing the ring on her finger, he asked about her husband. "I told him that I truly love my husband, and my husband worships me. But unfortunately, I have a certain itch that he is unable to scratch."

When I heard that, I almost lost it. Pre-cum came shooting out soaking shorts and puddling on my belly. My voice trembled as I asked, "What did he say to that?"

"He said, 'Are you possibly implying that he doesn't measure up?' And I answered him by saying, That's one way of putting it." Without warning, and just like one of those 'falling off a cliff dreams,' every muscle in my body spasmed. But their conversation about me didn't end there. Marie related the rest of what was said. "Omar asked just how bad was the problem, so I told him."

Without waiting for her to say it, I had to know, "What exactly did you tell him?"

"I told him the truth. I am married to a man with a four-inch dick."

It could be seen, but my entire body flushed with embarrassment. Not that it mattered. The painful moan that escaped me revealed just what I was feeling. My wife had come right out and told a complete stranger that she was married to a guy with a small dick. And to be honest, I couldn't have been happier! [What the hell is wrong with me???] My dick was possibly stiffer than it may have ever been, and the front of my shorts, along with my entire belly, was covered with pre-cum.

Marie was now on a roll. "Even though he knew the answer, Omar asked, if there was anything he could do to help? As discreetly as I could, I slipped my hand between us and molded my fingers around his shaft. Oh, baby, he wasn't even fully erect, but it still felt so big in my hand."

Releasing her grasp of my hand, she placed her hand on top of my hard-on. The squishing sound of soaked material was clearly audible as she wrapped her fingers around my hard-on. "His cock filled my hand much, much more than yours does." My chest rumbled with yet another moan.

Using my lube, she slowly moved her hand up and down my shaft. As you might expect, I was already quite close to the edge of cumming. However, each time I would be right on the precipice, that vixen would pinch it off, blocking more than a small amount of jizzim from escaping.

I had asked my wife to tell me all about her night of infidelity. Now, she was ensuring I remained hard, horny, and attentive. Making certain that I heard every detail.

She continued reliving her dance floor conversation with Omar. "After asking if he could help me with my problem, and then almost swooning at the size of the cock I held in my hand, I still played coy and asked him what he had in mind that might help a poor girl like me? His eyes filled with smoldering passion. Without any more being said, he kissed me, deeply, right there on the dance floor. And oh, yes. I kissed him right back. That kiss was one for the books and had my juices were flowing like crazy. Omar was going to be the one. I told him of the room at the hotel down the road."

Only they didn't go to the motel or use the room I had bought for this evening's tryst. Instead, he asked her if she had ever seen the inside of a big-rig sleeper cab. Naturally, Marie had no idea what something like that was like, but it certainly piqued her interest. His truck was parked back at the truck stop out on the Interstate. After consuming who knows how many drinks, Marie was in no condition to drive, so he resorted to the same way he had arrived: He called for an Uber.

So it was there, in a long-haul truckers sleeper cab, parked in an Interstate truck stop, that my wife of ten years got her first taste of post-marital sex with an otherwise absolute stranger.

But before I go on with exactly what happened with Omar and my wife, I should tell you of possibly the biggest surprise I got of the evening. Remember earlier, me telling you about being between Marie's legs and the tip on my tongue being tickled? Well, it was at this point in her story that Marie told me to open my mouth because she had a special treat for me. Marie let go of my boner, and even in the darkness, I could tell she seemed to be reaching for something.