tagAnalHis Wife's Ass

His Wife's Ass


'You are looking at my wife's ass, no?'

I felt my face go red and it wasn't the searing sun hanging heavily over the beach. I looked over at the next sun lounger and tried to mumble something to the large, ugly man who was staring at me. He wasn't pretty. Fat, hairy, Eastern European but clearly stinking rich. His eyes were fixed on mine but, to my relief, they weren't angry, merely curious, questioning and a little mischievous.

The fact is that I was indeed looking at his wife's ass. Every fucking man on the beach was and had been all day. Her ass eclipsed every other view on that Italian beach. Which was quite a feat considering the countless sweet, young things parading back and forth from their loungers to the lapping waves. The crowd was wealthy and their bodies reflected it. Which is why I was sitting there, paying a fortune to rent a sun lounger. The views were legendary and eye candy was free. A plus for a man in a much lower tax bracket like me.

Whereas the man next to me as ugly as sin and over 50, his wife was in her mid-twenties and gifted with amazing looks. Her red bikini consisted of three triangular bits of thin fabric, connected precariously by thin straps. It did little to conceal the finer points on her body. But so spectacular was she that her exquisite face, long legs, painted toenails, silky hair – any of these were enough to encourage hard-ons on their own. She knew she was hot and she had that aloof gait that put mere mortals in their place. You know the type and you've probably jacked off to images of such woman in your head. I know I had many a time.

Her ass – the issue in question – was legendary. Hard as nails, perfectly formed. Her tits were full and round and her stomach as flat as a Finnish lake.

'You like her ass?'

Oh, shit. He was still on about it. I wondered how to tackle it...

'It's... uh... an impressive ass...'

Honesty. Good move. Disarm him with charm.

He just nodded, still staring at me with those curious eyes. Curious and not a little scary.

'Indeed. You staying at the hotel?'

I could only muster a vague nod as I wondered why that information was of interest to him. He was nouveau riche and he was East European... a combination which all too often added up as – mafia. Oh shit.

'Perhaps I will buy you a drink after dinner...'

It wasn't a question. I nodded again and shrugged vaguely, smiling a little. He nodded back and the short, sharp movement of his fat neck was a period at the end of the sentence. He turned back to his Financial Times and I swallowed hard and tried to concentrate on anything other than his wife's ass, which continued to sashay up and down the beach as though she couldn't get enough of showing it off to every man and his dog.

The air cooled slightly and darkness descended on the resort like a humid blanket. I did everything in my power to avoid the fat man in the hotel and I almost succeeded. But heading to the lobby elevators after dinner I heard his voice call out behind me.

'Ah, there you are...' I turned to see him approaching, with his wife faithfully at his side. I was about to make my excuses and try to explain that I was heading up to me room but he headed me off with one word:


With a wave of his hand he signalled that we should head to the bar. I obliged reluctantly. His wife was now wearing a thin, black evening dress. No bra. Hem above the knees. G-string. It was always amazing to think how a man can register details about women in a flash. She looked absolutely gorgeous but she didn't meet my eyes at all. Not once.

Now seated in a booth in the bare, the fat man orders drinks and makes small talk. When my whiskey arrived, I resisted the temptation to down it in one, choosing instead to sip at it. Often. I couldn't help noticing his wife. She sat there sipping her Chardonnay and didn't utter a word. She was somehow humble and even obedient. And she never glanced at me. Not once.

The fat man's small talk didn't last long. He soon arrived at the point I had sensed he wanted to make.

'Your interest in my wife's ass is of interest to me'.

I nodded. Double checking the exits and measuring how long it would take for me to make it out of the bar.

'You see, the little bitch has been unwise. She wandered off the straight and narrow a couple of days ago and... how do you say?... succumbed... to her most base desires. She has been unfaithful, fucking one of my colleagues.

He regarded me, letting this soak in. I didn't know quite what to say. Why was he telling me this? Did he think I was the guilty party? Of course he didn't. But why tell me? The only thing that I could think to say was;

'I see...'

He smiled a little. No doubt sensing my fear and trepidation.

'Not to worry. I only wish to punish her and you are my instrument. If you wouldn't mind obliging me.'

How do you answer that? A shrug, a mumble. You don't need to say anything. The fat man continued.

"In short, I would like you to fuck her ass. Have your way with her ass. Cum inside her ass. Only her ass. Nothing more. Isn't that right, Irina?'

The woman whose ass is under negotiation – Irina - doesn't even react to that. My mouth went dry. This was definitely not what I had expected, even though I had no idea what to expect. I stared at the man as he awaited my reply.

Before I realised what the fuck was happening, I found myself in their impressive luxury hotel suite. I had no recollection of how I got there. It was all a blur. The Med glistened in the moonlight outside all the windows and from the balcony. The fat man lit a cigarette. Irina stood at his side staring aloofly out at the sea.

'It's very simple. You get the pleasure of her ass and I get the pleasure of her punishment. It won't take long. Irina, show the man your body.'

To my astonishment, she did so. That icy, east European face of hers showing no emotion as she slipped out of her delicate dress, letting it fall to the floor. Her breasts strut free of any bra, as I had guessed. And they are perfect. Full and round and not a bit of sag. But I was wrong about the g-string. She isn't wearing any knickers at all. I can't help letting my eyes roam up and down her body. When they're down, I was amazed to see that her bare, shaved cunt is covered with a strip of black gaffer tape – industrial strength. The fat man knows what I am looking at.

'Merely another element of her punishment. Also in place to ensure that you are not tempted by her tight, little, wet cunt. Her filthy, violated cunt. It is only her ass that must interest you. Irina, bend over the chair for the man.'

I was damned as she did exactly that. Placing her hands on the arms and bending over the back of the chair. Her ass – the ass around which the conversation has revolved all day – now faces me. I was aroused by this while charade, no doubt about it. The man's presence, however, was disconcerting. As though reading my mind, he replies;

'I will retire to the balcony for the duration of the ass fucking. I have no need to watch. The mere thought of the act of punishment is enough.'

He nods and tosses a tube of oil to me before leaving. Leaving me standing there with that East European ice goddess prone before me. The black gaffer tape clearly visible, glued snugly along the length of her cunt but stopping below her asshole. Her asshole. Perfectly puckered. So tiny. So vulnerable. I realised that I was much more aroused than I first thought. Extremely so.

I realised that it was now or never. The point of no return. Opportunities like this occur once in a lifetime. I knew that. So I resigned myself to doing what naturally. Fumbling at my fly as I glanced out at the fat man on the balcony, standing with his back to me. My trousers fall to the floor and I shuffled over to her, pulling my boxers down as I went. My cock is hard and ready. I realise that I'm hurrying a little, as though afraid the man will change his mind.

I squirt oil onto my palm and proceed to lubricate my shaft and cockhead, gasping at the sudden touch and the cool oil, and then drip oil between her ass cheeks, rubbing it into her asshole with my fingers. She didn't even flinch.

I was rather suddenly gripped by the desire to make her flinch, that icy bitch. Those base, primal urges rising to the surface. I heard my breath go ragged as I grabbed my shaft and started nudging it against her asshole. Too quick, too rough, but I didn't care. Her unwillingness to react egged me on. Flinch, bitch.

I found myself forcing my cock hard past her ass muscles and I didn't stop until I was halfway inside. I heard myself groan – a low, throaty rumble. So fucking tight. So hot inside. I stared down at the splendid sight – my cockshaft halfway up the ass of this beauty. I realised my sympathy now lay firmly on the side of the fat man. I sensed his thirst for revenge. It was my sexual urges talking, I knew that, but fuck it. Her ass was mine to own, if only for a few minutes.

I grabbed her thin, bony hips and started doing what I was commissioned to do. I started fucking her ass. No ceremony involved, just my hips thrusting hard as I watched my cock disappear farther up her ass. She moved for the first time and I was thrilled to make her react, but she only shifted in order to brace herself against the chair. Not a sound. Not a whimper. I fucked her ass harder, watching my cock ravage her ass. I was inspired. I reached around and mauled her tits, groaning as I grabbed them and feeling how firm and ripe they were. The fat man was right. It wasn't going to take long.

I tried to contain my increasing groans when I felt my cum boiling in my balls. To hell with her tits... I grabbed hold of her hips and settled in for the home stretch. She braced herself again as I rocketed in and out of her ass until I felt my cock swell on the rising tide of hot seed, my mouth open, my eyes wide. With violent, sudden, twitching movements I started erupting my cum into her impossibly tight ass. Aware that my face was frozen in a silent scream. I let it happen, closing my eyes and feeling the orgasm wash over me. Images of her body in your mind.

The orgasm faded, as orgasms do, but the sensations lingered on in my body and cock. When I opened my eyes, however, I was shocked to see the fat man standing next to me. Smiling, glancing down at my cock still erect in Irina's ass. As though he was enjoying the view of her punishment. Satisfied that I had done the job well. I hastily pulled my cock out of her ass, hearing a faint, wet, popping sound. I was still wary of this man his intentions. I tried to catch my breath as I fumbled for my boxer shorts around my ankles.

The fat man leaned over and placed a chubby palm on each of her ass cheeks and spread them wide, leaning close to look at her violated ass. A glob of my cum seeped out past her twitching ass muscles and flowed down over the glistening black gaffer tape.

The fat man looked pleased. He had the same kind of look on his face as a cattleman who has just let his prize mare mate with another cattleman's steed.

'Stand up, Irina. Turn around.' His voice was throatier than before. He was loving this. Irina did so, standing there defiantly with her arms crossed. I realised my trousers were still bunched around my ankles and I bent over to pull them up.

'Wait one moment, if you please.' I straightened up warily. What now?

'Irina, I think it's only fair that the man be cleaned up before he goes, don't you?'

For the first time, her eyes showed emotion other that arrogance. She stared angrily at the man. As though she knew what he was thinking. I could see that whatever it was he had in mind was not something they had 'agreed' upon. He didn't give a shit. He smirked leeringly at her. In complete control.

'Irina, clean the man's cock.' His hand snaked through her hair behind her neck and he pressed down insistently until she gave in and her knees bent reluctantly as she dropped to the floor. Her eyes were filled with hate. The fat man merely continued to smile.

'Irina, my dear, you were a third rank Polish porn star when I met you, this should be second nature to you, darling. I turned you into a princess and then you betrayed me. You must pay the price.'

He pushed her head towards my crotch. His tone was darker now. I didn't say a word for fear of pissing him off and... well, to be honest... for fear of NOT feeling her mouth close around my cock.

Irina's fingers hooked into the elastic of my boxers and pulled them down. My cock was still erect, to my amazement. The thought her Irina polishing it clean after I had fucked her ass sent electric jolts throughout my body. All of this was almost too much for an average joe like me.

With a last bitter look at the fat man, she resigned herself to her task. My mouth opened simultaneously with hers as she bobbed her head forward towards my cockhead. Her lips slid effortlessly over my head and halfway down my shaft. I felt her tongue flatten against the underside of my cock as she started to apply suction. My eyes were glued on her mouth and face between my legs. This was the most beautiful woman I would ever get this close to and I knew it. My mind reeled. My cock throbbed.

'Look up at him, Irina. Give him that pleasure. Play the porn star. God knows you know how...'

Sure enough, her eyes tilted up at me. For the first time. As she fixed her icy blue eyes on mine she increased her suction on my cock, inhaling me to the root. The result was quite simple. It is usually a female angle to become stimulated by something as emotional as eye contact but I found it to be completely riveting. She had never looked at me before and now she was sucking me clean while staring into my eyes. I felt a sensation that I hadn't felt since I was in my early twenties... the sensation that accompanies cumming for a second time in a row. I didn't quite believe it at first but I soon knew it was happening. I tried to kill the sensation, not wanting to risk upsetting the fat man... this was certainly not included in our agreement.

Irina was jacking the base of my cock as she sucked the top half. She knew it too. It was in her eyes. Her hand jacked harder and she bobbed back and forth on my shaft. I couldn't help groaning.

The fat man now realised. 'Irina... your porn star talents precede you... I do believe our guest is going to cum... and you will swallow it all.'

I kept my eyes on Irina's but was acutely aware of the fat man standing next to us, watching her suck me off.

Before I could do anything about it, my body tensed and I battled to stay upright as I started shooting my cum into her mouth. She held my cock firmly with one hand as she swallowed every spurt. The orgasm was over quickly this time, but I was still left gasping.

She let my cock slip out of her mouth with a wet 'plop'.

'Excellent. Thank you. Irina, stand up and kiss this gentleman on the cheek.'

She stood up and gave me an anonymous peck on the cheek. I hurriedly pulled up my boxers and trousers.

It all ended rather unceremoniously. The fat man gestured with his hand toward the door and he showed me out with a word.

I stood waiting for the elevator as the whole scene flashed before my eyes. I still couldn't believe it. This would give me jacking off fantasy material for the rest of my life.

Throughout the rest of the week I saw the fat man and Irina on the beach and in the hotel. They never looked at me or acknowledged my existence. The fat man often engaged other men in conversation and I didn't doubt the subject of their conversation. Irina, icy as ever, was never far away. No doubt pondering the wisdom of her infidelity.

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