.He Took My Hot-Wife Cherry
The following is a fantasy-embellished re-telling of an actual occurrence that has helped fuel our sex life for many years. The bones are fact, the flesh – fantasy. Enjoy!
My husband and I met at and worked in an adult theater for almost 10 years. It was the early ‘80’s - pre-internet, pre-DVD, pre-home computers and videos (you wanted to watch people fuck? - you went to a porno theater!), and pre-HIV. We were both in our late 20’s, had been married for almost three years, and, because he is somewhat modestly endowed and knew that all of my previous lovers (what few there were!) had been boys/men considerably more generously “blessed,” my wonderful hubby one day decided that I needed more “cock-feet” than he could provide in order to be truly happy (I wasn’t that concerned at the time – little did I know then just how right he was!).
After months of soul-searching, conversation (both in bed and out), and reading aloud every Penthouse Forum and Letter ever printed about open-marriages and “wife-sharing,” we decided our love was strong enough to survive a bit of extramarital experimentation. So I started shopping. And what better place to find a large selection of men already open to sexual suggestion than in a porno theater? LOL
I am, by nature, a friendly, open, chatty, nosey, flirty, person. I think about sex constantly and will talk about sex with anyone interested in having the conversation, so I really didn’t see this as a difficult assignment. Most guys (especially the ones in that theater!) will come around, eventually, if you flirt with them long enough and hard enough. And I had the perfect person in mind. This would be a breeze!
Chris was one of the semi-regulars. He was tall, blonde, nice-looking, good body, in his mid-twenties, and, by my own observation, filled his pants out very nicely! He was also decently articulate, had a wicked sense of humor, liked to tease, and had been the subject of many a bedroom fantasy for some time. And of late, he seemed to be more interested in chatting with me in the lobby than he was in watching the movie! Consequently, it was 1. no surprise that I/we picked him to "seduce", and 2. not overly shocking for us to be talking about sex.
I was joking about my “assignment” to find someone to fulfill our “need” when he leaned toward me over the counter and said quietly “Well, I have 9 ½ inches that I would be more than happy to loan you, if you’re interested!”
Now, I don’t exactly look like the south end of a north-bound horse, but I’m no SI swimsuit model, either, so I was unprepared for the speed with which he made his offer. It was as if he had been waiting for an opening!
Suddenly feeling unsure of myself, I stammered something about having to check with my husband, and sent him inside to watch the film.
I immediately called my husband (who was working in the booth upstairs) and asked him to come down to see me when he got a chance. About ten minutes later, he came down and asked if everything was alright. I excitedly told him about our conversation and Chris’ offer and asked him one last time if he was sure he wanted me to go through with this? The raging hard-on in his pants pretty much gave his answer for him! We decided that I should accept his offer and that Chris’ and I could choose when and where. With a quick peck on the lips and an “I love you!”, hubby went back upstairs.
I barely made it through the rest of my shift. The more I thought about what I was considering doing, the more I started to panic and the hotter I got. I didn't know whether to listen to my screaming, freaked-out brain or the steam coming from my pants. By the time the movie was over, I was a nervous wreck!
After all of the other patrons had left, Chris hung out at the candy counter and continued talking while I closed up. He watched me work with just the slightest hint of a smirk on his face. I was sure he could tell that he was making me extremely nervous and it seemed to amuse him. I was supposed to be in charge of this situation, but instead I felt like I did the night of my first sexual encounter: giddy, confused, completely out of control and frightened – of the unknown, of what I had started, and of what I was feeling – yet so incredibly turned on that none of that mattered. It was everything I could do to keep my composure.
We chatted idly while I finished closing. When I was done, Chris said calmly, “So, have you talked to your husband?” I gulped and nodded. He smiled. “And what did he say?” I nodded again, my mind racing. (Wow! Really? What the hell was wrong with me? I work in a fucking porno theater and have talked with this beautiful man about everything under the sun for months now and suddenly I’m too shy and insecure to simply say yes to an offer from him to fulfill a long wished-for fantasy? What was I, crazy?) Chris’ smile was even broader. “What’s the matter? Cat suddenly got your tongue?” he teased. “I’ve never known you to be at a loss for words!” If the flush of heat in my face was any indication, I must have gone beet red! I turned away from him as I said flippantly “No, my tongue is right here, thank you!” “Good,” he said softly, “you’re going to need it!”
SPLAT! The crotch of my panties was instantly soaked! The smell of my sex was so obvious (at least to me) that I was sure he could smell it, too, even from across the counter! This was all getting to be too much. I started to panic again. I couldn’t go through with this! I had to find a way out!
Chris continued to watch me calmly as I tried to quell my rising panic. Then he asked “So, how do you want to go about this?” I took a moment to collect my thoughts (and my wits and self-dignity) and decided that honesty was probably the best policy. I took a deep breath and said “Look, Chris, I’m sorry, but I just don’t think I can go through with this.” “Really? Why not?” he asked, still smiling. “Because… well… because… because I’m… chicken!” (Oh, my God! Did I really just say that?) He laughed out loud then said “Sounds to me like you just need some time to get comfortable with the idea. Tell you what – let’s meet somewhere public, talk about it, and get to know each other better, ok? But not tonight. It’s late and I need to get home. What are you doing tomorrow night?” “Well, nothing, actually…” “And will your husband be joining us?” “No, he’s working the RC drive-in.” “Really…” He paused a moment. “Ok, then, do you know where Randy’s Restaurant is? It’s very close to the drive-in.” “Yes, I know where that is.” “Good,” he said, “then I’ll see you there at 8. I’ll be in the bar.” He leaned across the counter, cupped my chin in his hand, kissed me softly for about three seconds (soft lips, sweet breath, good kisser!), said “Good night!” cheerily, and walked out the door.
Wait! What just happened? I felt like I was going to pass out. My head was spinning, I had butterflies in my stomach, and my pussy was hot, wet, and tingly. I was still leaning against my side of the counter, eyes closed, remembering the feeling of that quick kiss, my pussy throbbing, when I felt what was, unmistakably, a very hard cock rubbing firmly against my ass. A thrill of sensation went straight to my cunt and I got even wetter.
Now, my entire back, from my head to my ass, is one, large erogenous zone. Almost any man who will touch, kiss, rub, lick, massage, fondle, and generally spend time paying attention to my back half can do almost anything he wants to the rest of me (although I do have limits! LOL). Fortunately, I married a bona-fide, dyed-in-the-wool ass man. It’s a total win-win!
My sweet husband put his arms around my waist for a moment, then moved one hand down to my now sopping wet crotch and rubbed my pussy through my pants, groaning breathlessly into my ear “Oh, my God, baby! I was listening in the stairwell and I heard everything! And you are SO wet! This really is going to happen, isn’t it? You really are going to do it!” “Yesss,” I hissed back, “Oh, YES!” And with that, I went over the top. He grunted “Oh, baby, I love you so much!” and held me as I shuddered through my orgasm, never once slowing his urgent grinding against my backside.
As my orgasm subsided, he slowed down, too, then stopped completely. I knew he hadn’t cum yet and I needed to get fucked NOW! I turned around, reached for his zipper and said “Here, sweetie, let me take care of that for you!”
I dropped to my knees right there behind the candy counter, unzipped his jeans, and somehow managed to maneuver his still rock-hard dick out of his pants. If anyone had walked up to the theater doors right then, they would have had a clear view of us! I sucked him into my mouth and down my throat. I love to suck cock, but that wasn’t what I wanted right then. (Unfortunately, hubby isn’t into blow jobs and usually can’t get off that way… and I swallow! L) I was simply giving his little man a jiffy lube so he could screw the living shit out of me on the stairs before we went home to do it again… and hopefully again! Was that so much to ask? Of course, it wasn’t actually necessary – I was so wet, I had a spot in my pants you could have seen a block away!
As I stood up and started to peel my now squishy pants from my even squishier pussy, hubby said “Why did you stop?” “I stopped mid-peel and said “Because my mouth is NOT where I want that!” He said “No, I want you to finish me this way. I’m so close!” Huh? He’s NEVER asked me to do that! Why, in God’s name, now?
I was almost frantic! “No, sweetie, please, I need you in me now!” And he said “No, baby. I think we should leave you just as you are until tomorrow night. The anticipation should help you overcome your apprehension!”
My jaw almost hit the floor. “You’re kidding, right?” I said hopefully. “Please tell me you’re kidding!” “No, sorry, baby,” he said. “I really do think it’s for the best. Now please finish me off!”
For the best? For who’s best? Certainly not mine! I was going to die of blue… somethings if someone didn’t fuck me soon!
And who was this man? The man I married is normally a very accommodating and non-controlling person who has NEVER turned down an offer to dip his stick in my honey pot. But that certainly didn’t described this man!
“Sweetie, please! Don’t do this to me!” I was almost in tears. He just put one finger against my lips, then put it up to his mouth and said “Shhh!” Then he led me to the stairwell, turned around, put both hands on my shoulders and pushed down gently as he sat on a stair. I sank back down to my knees and put his still-hard dick back in my mouth. And there in the darkened stairwell of the closed theater (I love having sex in “inappropriate” places!), I sucked, licked, and swallowed his cock until his breathing started to get ragged. He was so turned on, it didn’t take long to bring him to the edge. And I enjoy giving blow jobs so much that I really started getting into it in spite of my frustration (or maybe because of it?). Suddenly, he roared “I’M CUMMING!” It reverberated around the empty lobby and up the stairs. I immediately shoved my nose into his pubic hair. I could feel the head of his cock throb with every spurt that shot down the back of my throat. Mmmm…Heaven!
He sighed as I sucked the last few drops of cum from his now flaccid cock and let it slip slowly from my mouth. “That was wonderful, baby!” he said. “Thank you! Can we go home now?” “Yeah, I guess so. But you really don’t want to fuck me at all tonight?” I asked in frustration as he stood up to straighten his clothes. He finished quickly, then wrapped his arms around me and said “No, no, baby! It’s not like that at all! I DO want to fuck you! I can’t even begin to tell you how much I want to fuck you! But you’re really agitated and I truly do think that leaving you in a constant state of arousal between now and your date can only make it easier for you to go through with it. Besides, Chris has you wound up tight as a spring, and I think it’s only fair that he get to push the release button, don’t you?” He smiled lovingly, then bent down, kissed me gently on the lips and said “Now, let’s go home.”
As we lay in bed together later that night, my head cradled on his shoulder, his fingers idly tracing intricate designs on my naked body, we relived the evening’s events and discussed both the possibilities and the logistics of the following night. The more we talked the hotter and more nervous I got. Hubby carefully maneuvered his way between pouring oil on the water and stoking the fire.
One minute he would hug me reassuringly and say, “You’ll be perfectly safe, baby. It’s a VERY public, family-type place and I’m right up the road.” and “There’s a phone in the booth. You can check in every half hour or so, if you want. If it’s too long between calls, I can be there in five minutes to make sure you’re ok.” and “Just have a drink or two and talk to him. You’re in control here, baby. He'll let you call the shots. This only goes as far as you want!” and “His size shouldn’t be an issue. Didn’t you say Dumbshit (the last boyfriend) was 81/2“? Well, it sounds like Chris is only slightly bigger!” and whatever else he could think of to make me feel safe.
Then he would kiss me and his hands would start to wander again, from my face to my neck, down my back, over my ass, up to gently fondle my breast or squeeze a nipple, then down again past my stomach to brush his fingers lightly through my pubic hair and across my ever-more slippery labia and protruding clitoris, then back across my thigh and around to squeeze my ass again, all the while telling me how great he thought it was going to be for me to feel that much cock stretching my pussy again like it hadn’t been in a long time and how hard it was going to be for him to keep his mind on his film knowing what might be happening to me at any given moment and how hot, hard, and crazy it made him just thinking about it and how he hoped whatever did happen was so much fun and made me so happy that he would get another pair of panties to add to his ”rotating” collection of used panties when I came home. Then he would go back to “Oh, you did get all of his information, right? Where’d you put it?”
He see-sawed me up and down like that for about 45 minutes when, on one of his “tours” around my body, he unexpectedly slid first one, then two fingers into my now sopping wet pussy! I thought to myself “Oh, thank God! He wasn’t serious after all! I don’t know how much more of that I could take!” I settled in to enjoy what was bound to be an almost instantaneous "O", but after just a couple of strokes, he pulled his fingers out, stuck them in his mouth, and said “Damn, baby! If you get this wet for Chris, you won’t have to worry about his size!” And with that, he shot a small load onto my stomach, said “Remember, you promised not to play with yourself, so go to sleep, ok? Goodnight, baby, I love you!”, kissed me, rolled over, and went to sleep.
To be continued…