Thursday , May 26 2022

Forced bisexuality, cuckolding, humilation, liberal use of sexual slurs

He’s furious to find his wife fucking a total stranger in their house—but then she changes his mind about it. Literally.

********

I came home after work to find them fucking on the living room floor. My wife and some guy I didn’t know. He was on top. I remember her heels and toes hanging in the air as his ass flexed and he pumped away at her.

“The FUCK,” I said. The guy looked back over his shoulder and smiled at me. Then he saw my expression and his smile left. My wife, she looked at me, then rolled her eyes.

The guy sounded concerned. “I thought you said he’d be into this.”

“He is,” she said. “He just doesn’t know it yet.”

She’d painted her toenails. She never painted her toenails for me.

“The fuck,” I said again, setting down my laptop bag. I didn’t know what to say, but I needed to say something, so I started by saying, “You goddamn fucking—“

In a very clear and level voice, my wife said, “Subby Hubby.”

Something in me melted. Like a sugar cube getting water poured over it. Or like when you’re smoking weed and then, suddenly, something in you just gives way, like a dam breaking open, except that, instead of disaster and a community getting destroyed, it’s just pleasure that’s barreling your way. Dopey, happy, stupid, pleasure.

I stood, quietly, docile, like a waiter hanging around while a couple chose off a menu.

The guy noticed something was different. “What’s wrong with him?”

She smiled at me. “Nothing. Well, nothing that I haven’t stuck into him. I guess maybe there’s plenty wrong with him, if you think about it like that. . . .”

The guy looked confused. “Look, is he into this or not?” I could tell he was losing his arousal.

“He’s into it,” she said. She stared straight at me. “Baby. Strip.”

My shoes came off first. Then my socks. Then slacks, and underwear, and finally shirt. I was still a dopey, happy waiter, but now I was a naked, dopey, happy waiter. Waiting for an order. My cock stirred. . . .

My wife turned her attention to the guy. She reached around and felt his sac. “C’mon,” she said to him. “Let’s get you back up to speed. Baby, give my guy’s balls the attention they deserve.”

I got on all fours and crawled over to them. A lovely pleasant buzz hummed away in my head. I got close to his rear, and his cock was deep inside my wife. But I could tell he was getting soft. I needed to fix that. I needed him to feel as good as I did right now. No, even better. A waiter’s job is to make the customer happy. My job is to make this man happy. Make him happy, and make my wife happy.

His balls were shaved. Smooth. With a fat tongue I began lathering them. He wriggled a bit. “Oh, shit,” he said.

“Yeah,” I heard my wife. From my place licking his balls it was hard to hear her. “You like him there?”

The man moaned. “Shit yes. Fuck. Oh.”

“He’s into it,” my wife assured him. “He’s into anything at all. Trust me on this.”

The man just groaned some more. He slowly pulled out of my wife, then slightly less slowly pushed back in. Slow pull out, slightly faster push in. He didn’t want to go any faster than that. He didn’t want to lose the sensation of my tongue slathering his balls.

My wife was enjoying herself, too. I could tell from her scent. And the sound. More slippery. My tongue’s attention shifted back a little from his balls to his taint, then back down to his balls again. Slather, draw up, taint, drop down, massage his shaven, tasty sac with my tongue, back up again, each time drawing a little closer to his hole, down, lathering, up. . . .

My tongue darted into his asshole. “Uhhh,” he moaned. “Fuck.” I pushed my tongue all the way. With a hand I caressed his balls.

She laughed. “He’s at your asshole, isn’t he? In there?” “Goddamn,” the guy said. “Jesus Christ.”

“Just relax,” she said. She rested her heels on my shoulders. I pushed my tongue in and out of his ass, then moved down to worship his balls, then back into his ass again. “Call him a faggot.”

My cock jumped. “What?” said the guy.

“Faggot,” she said. “Call him a faggot. It’s part of the game. You’re not gay, right?”

“No,” said the guy. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with that—“

“There really is,” she said. “There really is something wrong with it. You know it, I know it. He knows it. It’s deviant, and perverse, and unnatural. It’s okay. You can say it here, in private.”

Deviant. Perverse. Unnatural. My cock was dripping. I could feel the head dragging on the floor. I’d have to clean the carpet once it was all done.

“Do it,” my wife said. “Call him a faggot.” When she said faggot, I pushed my tongue as deep into his ass I as I could. I wished my tongue were long enough to massage his prostate. I longed to feel the nub of the gland press against the tip of my tongue.

“Faggot,” the guy said, and I moaned into his ass.

“Whoa,” he said, jumping a little. “Wow.”

“He loves it,” said my wife. “My little faggot. Say it again.”

“You faggot,” said the guy. “You fucking faggot. Lick my ass, you pansy.”

I moaned some more. I was pretty much dissolving now. Well, all of me was dissolving except my cock and my tongue and my hands and my feet. My cock was the most solid thing in the world right now. But everything else was melting pleasurably as in a warm summer rain.

The guy was pushing his ass back into my face. He fell out of my wife with a shluuup.

“Ah shit,” he breathed. “Sorry.”

She giggled. “It’s okay,” she said. She pushed him back a little and shuffled out from under him. “We’ve got time. And I want you to enjoy this.”

He rested on his forearms, ass in the air. As I tongued him, I brought my fingers to his shaft and ran them up and down, soliciting a happy moan.

My wife brought herself next to me. She took my cock in her hand and started gently pumping it and whispered in my ear: “You love this.”

Yes. I love this.

“You want this.”

I want this.

“You’ll do anything.”

I’ll do anything.

“My Subby Hubby.”

Yes.

“You’re sick.”

I’m sick.

“You’re perverse.”

I’m perverse.

“Faggot,” and she licked my ear, and my cock pulsed and thickened in her hand.

“Shit,” the guy said. He pulled his ass away and sat on the floor and stuck his cock straight up into my face. “Suck my cock you faggot.”

“That’s the spirit,” said my wife. She was talking to him. “Now you know. C’mon. Have some fun.”

The guy put his hand on the back of my head. “Suck me, man. Suck me you dirty little slut. C’mon, you know you love it.”

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