Valentine's Day Cuckold

He strummed for a second, then tuned a few strings, then started again. It was nonsense at first, scattered chords clambering all over each other. Then he stopped, hummed to himself a little, and started again. It started to sound familiar, nothing I could make out, then he stopped again, waiting for me to take my seat next to me.

I knew it from the first note.

"I belong...."

The smile spread across his face.

"A long way from here

I put on a poncho, lots of mosquitoes

And drank 'till I was thirsty again"

He missed a line or two, mumbled something then started again in the middle of the verse, picking up some scattered words to cobble together enough to get to the chorus.

Not that I cared, not that I noticed. I was falling for every tired cliche ever thrown on screen.

I swooned as he serenaded me, though that wasn't quite the word. He brought to his rendition a sense of humor, his face meeting mine, filled with that cocky, self-assured smile that couldn't help but pierce through anyone's reasoning.

""I'm okay, I still get stoned

I'm not the kind of guy you'd take home"

He winked at me after belting that last line, then paused.

"Ready?"

I nodded, my eyes and the rest of me overwhelmed at this display. He started, somehow cajoling me to join in. My voice caterwauling with his off the wall of the cave.

"If it makes you happy

It can't be that bad

If it makes you happy

Then why the hell are you so sad?"

Our voices trailed off into giggles, something about that song throwing us back to our younger selves. Our voices soaked with the self-deprecating, self-aware knowledge of the absurdity of our own overblown and overdramatized emotions.

He laughed longer than I did, his eyes welling up as he finally settled down.

"Why are you so sad?" I said.

He let a last jovial sort of gasp before becoming serious, his face suddenly soulful.

"Why are we both so sad?"

"I'm not..." I struggled.

"You are," He brushed a lock of hair out of my face. "At least you have been..."

Did he lean in?

Did I?

Somehow the moment went by too quickly while in frame by frame slow motion. I took in every second, my frantic breathing as he grasped my arms, pushing my breasts up against his chest. His fingers worked their way up my neck to rest on my cheeks, turning my chin with his thumb so that he could softly connect our lips, waiting for me to respond. He went to pull away, probably intending to apologize again, only for me to kiss him back, roughly, awkwardly, like a teenage girl throwing herself at a boy.

Every inch of me went live, electricity flowing down into my toes. My eyes were closed so I didn't see him pull away, causing me to almost collapse. He held me.

"What are we doing?" He said.

"Crossing a line."

I couldn't believe my answer.

"I'm sorry Judith, I'll-"

"No I'll tell Billy, and it's okay," I said, stammering a little. "Really, I mean it's only a kiss."

"Right, it's only a kiss. We didn't even really make-out," Samuel said.

"Oh we made-out," I stated.

"So close... but not quite hon."

"Trust me, I know when I've been Frenched..."

"Not such a Judie Prudie after all..." Samuel said quietly.

"Shut up!"

But I smiled.

We walked awkwardly up to the porch, not speaking, unable to say anything to each other. He let his long arms dangle absently at his sides, and I wondered if he could be possibly thinking about doing things to me. I wanted him to. It had been over a decade since a man other than my husband looked at me that way. And if for every beautiful girl there is a man who is tired fucking her, that same girl must be equally frustrated and desperate to find more attention. Maybe it was just the alcohol, but Samuel poured out his affection with a wild sort of abandon absent after nearly two decades of marriage.

He sort of swung his arms to the side as we reached the porch, his knees rocking back and forth as he whistled a long, low blast, almost as if announcing he had no idea how to end the evening.

"Well, I suppose this is the part where I say goodnight..."

"Sweet of you to walk me home, even if it is your house," I said.

"I wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea..."

"Maybe it's not so much the idea that's wrong..." I said.

"No?"

"Maybe the implementation..."

"What do you mean?" Samuel said.

"I mean..." I said, summoning an unheard of courage. "If I have to confess that legendary womanizer Samuel Clementine kissed me, maybe I shouldn't have to settle for a second rate performance."

"Second rate?"

"You said yourself we didn't make out," I moved closer to him. "Were you holding back.."

I put my hand on his chest, playfully stroking his shoulder as I teased him. I arched my back just in the right way so that I could catch him looking me up and down, deciding if he dared take me again.

And while a small part of me screamed at the immorality of making out with another man while my husband slept on the other side of the large glass wall, that voice was drowned out by the wave of carnal lust that had been building up over the last decade of dry, methodical marriage.

Then there was a horrible second, a pause where I thought my efforts would be rebuffed, only for my sexuality, my desirability to be reaffirmed in the grip of strong arms around my shoulders. His tongue slid into my mouth as our lips locked again, this time almost animalistic. Our hands moved up and down across each other's body with a reckless abandon. We were overcome with longing and lust, drawn in by the forbidden allure of what we were doing.

His hands didn't paw me - I'd been fumbled at before, this was something else. He caressed as he moved over my body, overwhelming my senses, his hands slowly moving down, a thumb hooking into my panties, his fingers teasing the edge of my behind. He squeezed just below the chelf, grabbing at my thigh to hoist me up, holding me in his arms.

I hung around his neck, my legs wrapping around his body as he kissed me roughly, pressing up against the glass wall. Then I heard the smudgy smack of my half revealed ass banging against the glass.

I could feel one of those hands moving across my waist as he let me down, his first few fingers working their way inside the tiny triangle covering my clit. He effortlessly pushed the thong aside, his mouth finding my neck, biting just a little as he softly stroked my most sensitive areas.

He ran his fingers around my pussy in small little circles, exerting more and more pressure until I moaned out in excitement.

"Jesus Fuck, don't stop!" I yelled.

"I was hoping you'd say that.".

"Tell me you want to fuck me..."

I needed to know that I was fuckable. It had been so long since I had felt anything close to this level of adrenaline, of pure physical joy at anything.

Every conduit for pleasure in my body nearly burst. It was as if every pent up, repressed sexual impulse suddenly sprang out of my mouth in a brash defiance of everything decent. I needed more, and part of me always knew it.

Every piece of me wanted him. Even the rational part of my brain couldn't keep pretending that my current sex life was satisfying. I had to have him, and more. I had to make up for all this lost time with a wild abandon.

"I want to fuck you."

And even though I commanded him to say it, it came out as such a natural statement of fact easily displayed by that growing bulge as he pressed against me.

"Then fuck me..."

"I shouldn't... "

Through his shorts, I reached out and grabbed the outline of his rigid cock. It strained rigidly against his thigh, its silhouette undeniable, its girth almost astoundingly intimidating. I pressed my hand up against it, gripping it, trying to play with it like a wild animal in heat. I reached his waistband and plunged my hand blindly into it, blindly groping at his flesh.

We broke away and before he could resist, before I knew what I was doing, I was on my knees, fumbling at his hips. He made as if to step back, then stopped suddenly, his hands dropping as he let me pull down his loose fitting shorts in one hard motion. His cock sprang out, flipping up and nearly striking me in the face as it bounced up and down, rock hard and ready for me.

I took the fat, mushroom head in my mouth, shocked that I could barely stretch my mouth open to fit it. With my husband's, I could always purse my lips enough. With his width, I feared that I might scrape my teeth against his light pink head.

Somehow I managed to fit it but not much more. I didn't know a lot about dick size, only that my husband told me he measured five inches, though that seemed generous. Samuel's seemed to double that. His head filled my entire mouth and still I swallowed, somehow making it about halfway down the shaft.

I looked up with wide, eager eyes, wanting to see him moaning with pleasure.

Instead I saw Samuel focused on the inside of the house, staring straight ahead with an almost shocked look on his face.

I decided to do better.

I moved up and down on his cock, pulling the head out of my mouth for a second to drool a little on the shaft, licking up and down it, trying to add as much saliva as I could. The thing seemed to have a life of its own, brushing up against my cheek and my chin, nearly touching every part of me as I readied him with my tongue.

I looked up at him again, licking his tip. This time he stared back at me, placing his hands on my head. He guided me, his hands entangled in my hair as he gently pushed me deeper and deeper. It took every conscious effort of mine to breathe in through my nose. A few times I started to gag but I pushed past it, taking deliberate, slow breaths. I steadied myself, until my nose touched his tangle of pubic hair.

I couldn't believe what a slut I was.

Then I couldn't take it anymore. I pulled back immediately, gagging, needing air. I took deep gasps for a second or two through my mouth before going at him again. I sucked greedily, up and down, taking him all the way. He guided me more and more aggressively. His hands took control of me. His large balls bouncing off my chin as he started fucking my face.

Now and then, I would take a breath, but then he kept using me, nearly gagging me with every thrust, and yet I craved more. He even held me down and choked me for a few moments until tears formed in my eyes. I couldn't give up; I needed to show him that despite all those years spent as Judie Prudie that I could suck a cock, and be every bit as big of a slut as any teenage floozie.

I looked up at him again, and saw that same strange look on his face. I followed his gaze and nearly fell flat on my ass.

Billy was on his knees on the other side of the glass. His dick, so small, so insignificant compared to the one in my mouth. It looked so desperate, clutched in his hand as he beat off. He watched me wide-eyed as I made eye contact, looking my husband right in the eyes as I stroked Samuel's cock only a few feet from him.

He started pumping himself even faster.

Head spinning, I blew him a kiss, and then went back to sucking. My husband masturbated as I blew his best friend in front of him.

"Are we really doing this?" Samuel said.

"Tell me what you want," I said, my voice aching with desperation. "Anything you want Samuel. I mean anything. Just fuck me. Please fuck me. Just use me."

"I guess that answers that."

He laid down on the patio, pulling me towards him, adjusting us until I straddled his hips. He kissed me again, pulling down the nightie, my breasts spilling out halfway across the tops. My areolas were puffy with excitement, my nipples hard even before he started teasing them, his fingers barely brushing, then squeezing roughly, twisting each a little as our tongues met.

Then he broke away, pulling down the dress even further until he could press my bare breasts against his chest.

"God this is so hot. I can't believe he's watching," I said.

"I can..."

"What?" I said, breathing heavily.

But he changed gears so suddenly it drew me out of the conversation. He played around every inch of my boobs, holding them in each hand at first, before alternating between sucking on each nipple. He moved his hands again, pulling the nightgown up and over my head.

His mouth alternated between kissing up and down my neck and talking dirty to me.

"Your husband is going to watch me fuck you..."

"Oh God! Yes!"

"He's going to see just what a slut you are."

"Jesus, just fuck me..."

"What do you want?"

"Fuck me..."

He grabbed me by the hips, and I nearly jumped into his arms, my legs straddled around his waist.

"Say it loud enough that he can hear it through the wall."

"FUCK ME, SAMUEL!"

He slid the thong to the side, perfectly positioning himself to the entrance of my pussy. He was so big that the first push didn't take. He tried again, and then with a loud moan he slid into me. There was a little pain, but excitement overwhelmed my sensations.

Once the head was past, the rest of his girth seemed to work its way in easily enough until he stopped me, holding me up a little bit. I looked down and saw that only maybe half of him was in. I switched my position, moving my legs forward into a crouch. He sat up, and soon every inch was inside me, my legs wrapped around his waist as we held each other.

He was so big, so good that my senses were overpowered. And there was a part of me deep inside that knew I had never been fulfilled like this. It wasn't a sense of cruelty or neglect, a mere reflection of reality. His dick filled me up in such a different way. It sent pleasure shooting up into my shoulder, forcing me to grab tightly onto him.

My nails dug into his back. Somehow trying to both slow him down and speed him up at the same time. Thankfully, he knew what he was doing.

"Oh fuck you are so much bigger. I can barely take it."

"You're going to take it."

"OH fuck, fuck, fuck... please, please go slow."

He was perfect. His body rocked me gently, moving with my own pleasure, letting me adjust until I could take it faster. His dick never softened even as we stayed perfectly still for a few seconds. His arms draped over my body and down, grabbing my ass as leverage as he started moving me up and down.

My eyes rolled back in my head, my large tits bounced back and forth, giving him something else to grab, to tease. We kissed, groping blindly at each other, and every few seconds, I couldn't help glancing over at my husband.

His eyes stayed glued to us, his dick rock hard as he watched another man take his wife.

"Oh god, right there just like that-"

"What are you going to do?"

"Oh god I'm about to have an orgasm."

"You're about to cum.."

I could feel my body reaching the point of no return, the pleasure overwhelming every sense and sensation.

"Tell me, tell me that I'm about to make you cum."

"Oh god, Samuel. I'm about to cum."

"Ask me..."

"What?"

"Ask me if you can cum."

"God, Samuel, I need it. Please make me cum?"

"Beg for it."

"Please, please, I'll do anything just keeping fucking me."

"Beg harder, Judy."

"Please, Samuel, please please do please let me cum. Please I want to cum, I need it so badly. Please..."

"Cum."

And with that single word, my whole body bucked against him. My pussy tingling, needing more, grinding out every last bit of pleasure from him. Usually I would need a break, but instead I bore down harder on him, screaming again and again...

"FUCK ME! FUCK ME!"

Over and over, grabbing his head, kissing him as I rode him and the orgasm. As if sensing a new need, he moved back, grabbing me by my ass. He held me in his arms and stumbled back for a second. I remained suspended in the air, impaled upon his massive cock as I wrapped my legs again around his ass.

I bounced for a minute or more, riding him in the air, my hands clasped around his strong shoulders. He staggered forward, pressing me up against the glass wall, going more slowly. His cock almost pulled out of me as he slowly moved back and forth, giving Billy a full view of exactly how his best friend was using me.

My neck arched back, my mouth only good for moaning half articulated thoughts of pure lust and desire. I couldn't tell where one orgasm began and the other ended. I completely lost myself in the lust of the moment, unable to be anything but the receiving end of absolute pleasure.

I managed to open my eyes, and saw my husband standing inches away from where I was being banged against the giant glass window, watching his friend slam his wife's pussy again and again. He reached out a hand, touching where my bare ass was hitting the wall in a desperate act of longing and lust for a woman he already possessed.

It pushed me over the edge again. Watching my husband jerking off, wanting me but unable to even touch me through the glass sent my whole body convulsing again with pleasure. I skyrocketed up on Samuel's big, fat dick as he plowed into me, my ass inches away from my husband's face as I rode the bigger, stronger, more virile man.

My whole body writhed against him, his cock working its way into me, deeper, faster, harder than anything I'd ever experienced. It was as though my body built up a reservoir of unused pleasure, letting out years of deprivation into several supremely satisfying orgasms in a few moments. It didn't matter how hard he fucked me, every time his cock moved away from me, I threw myself back on him, my legs clasped around his waist, fucking myself.

"You're going to make me cum," Samuel said, panting.

"Cum inside of me," I said.

"You're sure?"

"Oh god yes, fucking cum inside of mel"

"I'm close..."

I could feel his hands on my ass, his nails digging into my flesh. He pushed harder inside of me, pounding my pussy for his pleasure. My whole body started to feel sore from the effort, but more than anything I wanted to satisfy him, to know that I had another man's semen inside of me.

He let out a loud moan as his cock started to spasm inside of me. He stopped for just a second before continuing to pump. His cum coated the inside of my pussy, his seed warm and thick, driving me absolutely crazy with lust. As the last few drops entered my vagina, he used the last minute of his erection to pound into me again, suspending me for a few more seconds as he kissed me.

With another man's cum inside of me, my husband in full view, I came again, screaming his name as my whole body ricocheted back and forth on the glass, working its way through the throes of the most powerful orgasm of my life.

Samuel let me down gently as he finished, my pussy worn out and used. My breasts, my whole body exposed on the crisp February night. My nightdown was in tatters, pulled up so that as I turned to face my husband, he could see exactly how his wife's vagina had been fucked.

My thong, torn and ripped, was nearly soaking wet with my excitement and Samuel's cum, which was leaking out of my pussy in drops as I tried to collect myself. I pulled my panties down to my ankles, kicking off the ruined thong, only to look down at the white gob of semen dribbling down my leg and onto the wooden deck.

I looked away and saw my husband staring wide-eyed, his hand working faster and faster on his smaller penis. It seemed as though any second he would finish. I moved forward, my thighs wet and sticky with semen. I squatted down, spreading my legs so that Billy could see the mess his friend had made of my vagina, now a gaping hole stretched out more this evening than in twenty years of marriage.

Billy's mouth went wide, his eyes starting at the sex dripping out of me. I pressed my tits up against the glass, and he lost it.

Rope after rope of semen exploded out of my husband's cock, painting the wall white with more cum than I'd ever seen Billy produce. If the glass had not separated us, the spray would have spread all over my face and breasts, covering me in the largest facial in my life.