tagNonConsent/ReluctanceLynn's Problem

Lynn's Problem


Let me tell you, Jack, I had one hell of a shitty day today, although it really started some time ago. I could tell there was something wrong. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but there was something amiss. For the last several months my wife, Lynn, seemed to be growing more distant toward me. Sex with her was almost to the point of nonexistent. In those rare times we did have sex, it was as though she couldn't wait 'till it was over. It was to the point that sex became unpleasant, damn near work. Instead of calling out my name during sex, now she just tells me to move my head, so she could see the TV. She did her part and that was all. "Get on to get off" was her motto.

Hell I remember how I would pick her up after work, head out for a quick bite to eat and then we would go to one of the last drive-ins around. Christ, we would steam up the windows of that old Karmen Gia of mine with our love-making. Her skirt would be on the back seat, her bra on the floor. I would have my fingers up her pussy and the whole damn car would smell of sex and cum. Christ, I can still recall seeing her tits all swollen and hard, glistening from the flicking light of the movie screen.

But, it was the little things that really begun to bug me. I would call out, "I love you," on the way out the door in the morning and she would return with, "I like you too." The fiery kisses she used to give me were gone.

Then she started changing the way she dressed for work. The company she worked for had a rather old-fashioned dress code requiring suits and ties for men and dresses or skirts with nylons for women. She seemed to be pushing even their dress code by wearing skirts that were shorter and heels that were higher than she normally wore. Even in my book, her skirts were way too short for a woman in her late thirties.

Then there were the phone calls with no one on the other end. The extra overtime she always seemed to be working. All these things and more piqued my interest to the point that I reworked my schedule and took today off work.

I headed out to meet her where she was working; you know, maybe grab something for lunch at a nice place, perhaps just for some coffee and conversation. I told the receptionist that I would like to talk to Lynn Furby. "I'm sorry, sir, Lynn called in sick today. May I take a message for you?" she said without looking up.

"No, that's fine. I'll come back later."

As I walked out of the building my heart dropped to my knees. I guess I shouldn't been surprised; I knew there was something up, but what could it be? Maybe she had a doctor's appointment and didn't want to worry me? I ran various scenarios through my brain trying to come up with a logical reason why she took off work. I headed back toward town and just as I drove by my buddy's apartment, I could swear I saw Lynn's truck parked behind a large tree in the corner lot. I turned my car around at the next street and headed back to his apartment. I parked next to a red Ford Ranger that looked very close to the one Lynn drives.

"Damn, sure looks like her truck," I said to myself as I walked around to the passenger side. Sure enough, there was that hamburger-bun-sized ding in the front fender. I walked back over to the driver's-side door. I inserted my key into the lock and gave it a turn. The key moved, and the door popped open. My heart sank lower than whale shit.

"No, this can't be happening!"

I pounded my fist against the door. She's upstairs with my buddy. My mind raced again trying to generate any logical reason why she would be here after calling off sick from work. Try as I may, I come to only one conclusion. She's up there having sex with my soon-to-be-ex-friend Paul.

Paul's apartment is on the second floor, so I made my way up the stairs as quietly as possible and stood in front of his door. I put my ear down onto the door in a vain attempt to hear what was going on inside. The thick door only revealed muffled sounds coming from within the room.

I did not know whether I should pound on the door, ring the buzzer, or try to break in. I with a softer choice: I reached down and quietly tried the doorknob. Goddamn! The knob turned in my grip. I cracked opened the door ever so slightly, the room was dark as the blinds were pulled down. Apparently, some one in their haste must have forgotten to lock the door behind them.

So there I was, standing at the precipice, looking down into a deep abyss of the unknown. Should I continue to push the door open wide and throw away fourteen years of marriage? Should I turn around and leave, allowing them to do whatever they were up to? I gave the knob another twist, and I pushed the door open oh-so-quietly. A radio playing in the living room masked my entrance into my friend's living room.

I heard Lynn giggling in the background as I moved toward the sounds emitting from the bedroom. I poked my head around the door jam and I saw Lynn sitting on the bed, her blouse lay on the floor, her skirt on the dresser. She was wearing only her pantyhose, heels and a bra. Paul was standing in front of her, completely butt-naked with one of the biggest cocks I've ever laid eyes on. Huge bulging veins ran up to the head that was so swollen with blood, the top had a purple-pinkish glow. I swear that thing looked so hard you could have pounded nails into a two-by-four with it.

Paul, who stood in front of my wife, was turned so he could not see the doorway or me standing beside it. He clearly enjoyed what was happening.

As neither of them was aware of me, I watched her pull and stroke his cock with all the expertise of an expensive Vegas hooker. She put it in her mouth then pulled it back out as though she was playing with a sucker on a stick. Occasionally, she would kiss his shaft up and down then roll her tongue over the tip of his cock's head. She was so mesmerized with her toy she had in her hand, she never noticed me as I watched the show unfold.

Paul reached toward her and pulled at the top of her lacy red bra. He tugged at her nipples, pinching and twisting them with his fingers. I could see them harden up and they begun pushing against the thin lacy red material. The bra seemed to be strained to the point it would snap in two.

"Would you like me to cum all over your tits today?" he asked as he pushed his manhood toward my soon-to-be-ex-wife.

She giggled some more and said, "I don't know. I was thinking of putting his bad boy up my pussy!" Then, she looked up, and saw me standing by the doorway.

"Oh Jesus fucking Christ!"

She dropped his cock, jumped up, and tried to hide herself from my view by placing her hands in front of her pussy. Paul damn-near fell over when she let go of her grip on his cock. He grabbed his shorts and tried putting them back on as he hopped from foot-to-foot trying to get his cock back into his underwear.

"Honey, I can explain. We were, well, ah; you know." Lynn started to say as she tried in vain to come up with a believable story.

"Get your clothes and put them back on. Let's get out of here!" I said as I could feel my blood pressure rise. I walked toward the front door of his apartment.

She quickly stepped into her skirt as she grabbed her blouse and wrapped it over her shoulders, fastening only a few buttons together. All three of us head toward the door, and then I stopped and looked around. This was the end of my marriage. It was over, done with, kaput, period, end of story.

Even with the knowledge that my marriage was over, I somehow started to smile as I walked to the door. With every step, my smile grew and before I knew it, I actually started to laugh a bit. Neither one said as word, but no longer able to contain myself I said, "Caught you both. Caught both of your cheating asses didn't I?" Some how, that made things feel better.

By now I was almost to the front door. I stopped. "No…you came up here to get laid, so by God you're going to get laid!"

"What are you talking about?" Lynn asked as she looked over to Paul.

"No way! That's not going to happen."

"I agree. You get out of my apartment, or I'll call the police." Paul said as he puffed out his chest, trying to scare me into leaving his apartment.

Paul had worked construction all his life, so he was an immense man. He had hands that could have easily twisted my head off had he wanted to. He was buff with a nice tan that accented his long, wavy hair, I could see why my wife was drawn toward him. I decided to call him out.

"Fine. Call the police. They'll be happy to make out a report. Let's see, Lynn, how are you going to cover for yourself at work when you called off sick? While we're at it Lynn, let us call your father up, too. I sure he would like to hear from you why you had Paul's stiff cock in your hands while you were sitting damn near naked on his bed."

"Your word against ours!" she snapped back with a big shit-eating smile on her face.

Paul chirped in, "Yeah, your word against ours. What the fuck you going to do about that, asshole?"

The veins in his forehead bulged out. He was pissed, and he reached around and placed his arm around Lynn in a defiant gesture.

"Aha. Yes, your word against mine. Well, you remember that old saying about a picture being worth a thousand words? Well then, a video is worth a thousand pictures," as I held up my cell phone. "Still want to call daddy now?"

They both turned to each other, the dominance and confidence they had drained from their faces The both look like they could had easily puked right there. Clearly, I had caught them in the act and had a video record of it.

"Both of you, sit down!"

I thought for a moment, playing out various scenarios of things I could have them do to each other. Then it dawned on me. How simple!

"Okay, you two were starting to get it on when I popped in, so you may as well continue, but from the top. I am going to sit here and watch my slut bitch wife get fucked by you, Paul."

She screamed back, "You son-of-a-bitch! I hate you! I hate you!"

I shot back to her, "You can hate me all you like. The bottom line? You are still going to get fucked and I am going to watch. So go into the bathroom, fix your hair, and put your clothes back on correctly. You don't need to look like a slut, although as far as I am concerned right now, you are one."

Lynn blew out a loud huff from her flared nostrils and stormed toward the bathroom, slamming the door behind. Boy, was she pissed off! Paul said nothing and just looked down at the floor. Several minutes clicked by before Lynn finally emerged from the bathroom, hair in place, with fresh makeup reapplied to her face. Her blouse was stuffed back into her skirt and her hose was tight against her legs.

Now, let me tell you. My wife was quite a looker though she is knocking on the door of forty years old. She wore a cream-colored skirt that was several inches above her knees. She had a nice little ass that the skirt could barely contain. A matching nylon blouse, with a rather plunging neckline, exposed some of the lacy bra that was concealed just underneath. Her strawberry-blond hair fell down about her shoulders. Her suntan pantyhose she wore glistened as beams of the early afternoon sunshine broke through the cracks of the blinds, illuminating her flawless legs. I ran my eyes up and down her as she stood there. Paul was also giving her the once over as well, I mean after all he was ready to shot a load of cum down her throat before I barged in on them and then had to stop.

"Let's head toward the bedroom," I said as I pointed the way.

They both entered the room first and stood beside the end of the bed.

"Well, Paul, I guess this is your move. I've always enjoyed looking at her legs, so let's get things moving. Take her skirt off first."

Now, Paul was quite eager, and he fumbled with the zipper on her skirt. The room was dead silent, and I could hear the zipper being pulled down. As he continued pulling the zipper down further, her skirt became loose around her waist. She grabbed at the waistband trying to prevent the article of clothing from falling.

I called out, "Let if fall. We both want to see you skirt less!"

She let the material go and it slid down her legs, piling up around her tan-colored high heels.

"Go ahead, Paul, remove her skirt and put it here on the dresser."

Paul continued removing her skirt and has he did, we both took in the sight that was now before us. Lynn worked out and you could see her legs were muscular and toned. The high heels she had on caused the calves of her legs to bulge out ever so slightly, enticing us both with her figure as she stood before us.

"Okay, may as well loose the pantyhose and her high heels too, Paul."

He looked down and grabbed the waistband of her hose, and gave it a slight tug. Then he stopped and looked back over to me.

"Would you mind if I left her hose and heels on?"

Well, I have to admit I've always liked seeing her like this so I really did not have any problem with it.

"All right. Leave them on for now."

Lynn stood at the end of the bed in her hose and heels. I looked over and on top of one of his dressers I saw a pair of scissors. I grabbed the scissors and as I approached her, she leaned away from me to the point Paul had to catch her before she fell over.

"Stand still! I'm not going to hurt you!" I yelled out.

She stopped in her tracks and steadied herself. I went over and pulled the waistband of her pantyhose back ever so slightly to reveal the top of her panties. With a couple of snips of the scissors, I cut her panties at the waistband, then I grabbed the front of her panties and pulled the flimsy article of clothing from her from the front. I made sure the material rubbed up and along her pussy as I pulled them up and off. As her bikini panties were being pulled out, Paul and I were treated to a trim bush that suddenly appeared, yet it was still hidden behind her pantyhose. I snapped her hose back up and gave it a stout tug, tightening the material against her ass.

"Paul, take her blouse off!"

Paul reached up and began to unbutton her blouse from the top down. As the last button gave way, he pulled the garment back from her shoulders and it fell onto the bed. Lynn now stood before the two of us in her nylons and high heels. I could see Paul was enjoying the sight before us as he was stroking that massive cock still hiding under his boxers.

She may-well have hated me, but you could clearly see the effect all of this was having on her. Paul and I looked down at her and we could see a wet spot growing on the front of her pantyhose. Her nipples were hard and pressed against her bra. Her eyes were closed, and she swayed back and forth in her high heels. She knew what was going to happen.

"Ok, Paul, your turn. Loose the clothes!"

Before the sound of my voice bounced around the room, Paul had all his clothes on the floor and that giant cock of his was already at full attention.

"Now where were you two when I came in? Oh, I remember: Paul was asking whether you wanted him to cum on her tits? And you Lynn, you were asking whether you wanted him in your pussy. Wasn't that right Lynn?"

"Your call, Paul!" As I turned to Paul, he had a slight smile on his face.

With that, Paul placed his fingertips around the waistband of her pantyhose and gently pulled the thin material down to expose her trim brownish-blond bush. He then pushed her back down on the bed and reached over for the scissors I had left on the floor. With the skill and precision of a neurosurgeon, he cut the cotton gusset of her pantyhose with a few quick snips. I thought to myself, "That explained the scissors in the bedroom. Paul had done this more than just a few times."

Paul pulled her hose back up and then leaned Lynn back onto the bed. He took one of her high heels and pushed it down into the mattress, locking her foot in place. He does this with her other heel as well. She fully exposed with her legs spread apart and her knees up, giving Paul a perfect shot at her pussy. From my vantage point, I could see more juices had begun to flow from my wife's pussy and down her ass cheeks toward the bed sheets.

As I witnessed all of this, it started to piss me off. I mean, I was about to watch my best friend fuck my wife, her pussy dripping so much that she should have worn a baby's bib. Yet with me, the only way I could get her wet between her legs would have been to throw her in a bathtub full of water.

Paul reached down and grabbed a finger full of pussy juice and smeared it along his cock. As he applied more and more of her juice, his cock seemed to grow even larger than what it first appeared when I walked into the room. Christ, he should have been in the porn industry! If there was a market for cum, Paul could have made car payments!

Now all shiny and hard, he pushed her legs apart a bit more and with one stroke, jammed that monster into her! She let out a loud moan while her back arched up under the onslaught of Paul's cock.

Another lunge and she begun to twist and buck all the while being constrained by her heels stuck into the bedding. She had a fist full of bed sheet in both hands and twisted it into a ball as he continued hammering away at her pussy.

"Yes! Yes! Paul! Fuck me! Fuck me! Make me cum baby!"

She managed to raise herself up on her elbows and was watching Paul push that monster cock in and out of her. The bed started to rock in harmony with Paul's thrusts. Lynn's hair was flying back and forth in rhythm with the rocking bed. I saw beads of sweat roll down her chest that formed small rivers of the salty material and flowed down to her belly button.

She cried out, "Oh Christ, I'm cumming Paul! Oh! Saint Mother of Mary I am cumming!"

She stopped rocking and grabbed her thighs while throwing her head back. Her hair fell over her shoulders and down toward the bed. Her body was beet red and covered in sweat. Then all at once she just lay motionless, and then she fell back down on the bed. She started shaking and moaning, all the while rubbing her tits back and forth across her bra. She had a smile on her face while she let out a soft sigh.

Paul slowed his thrusts as Lynn had her orgasm, then he stopped thrusting altogether and pulled his cock out of her pussy. Small drops of cum and pussy juice dripped from its head. Quickly, he pulled down the front of her pantyhose and placed his cock on her trimmed bush. He arched back and within seconds he shot a load onto her bush, sending cum into her pubic hair. In a lighting-fast move, he straddled over her and with one hand pulled the top of her bra down, exposing her tits. A second shot from his cock hit her left nipple and then a third hit her right nipple. He pulled her bra back up, covering the sticky mess.

Lynn had released her death grip on the bed sheets and had begun rubbing the thin nylon bra with her fingertips. The material instantly turned transparent, as Paul's cum started to seep through. She rubbed her nipples through the cum soaked material with her fingers and licked them clean with her tongue.

Paul was proud of himself and announced, "How's that! Got your pussy and both your tits!"

Now, I am like any other red-blooded American male. After being a witness to all this fucking, the next thing I knew my clothes were on the floor and I was standing over the two of them with a hard cock. Lynn looked up and saw me and she let out a loud breath of air.

"What the fuck are you going to do?"

"What do you think?"

"Well, fuck you!" was her reply.

"That's exactly what's going to happen to you, my dear!" was all I could muster as my reply.

Knowing I couldn't outdo Super Cock, I decided I may as well go for broke and try something she never would let me do: fuck her in the ass.

"Paul, roll her over!"

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byrwsteward© 10 comments/ 91409 views/ 14 favorites

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