My husband was fucking me from behind on our bed. “Doggy-style,” he called it, like usual, unexciting, unsatisfying for me. If I was lucky he’d finish quickly and kiss me and go do whatever the next thing was. If I was unlucky, he’d get me at least a little turned on, and then finish, and leave me wet and wanting until I could find a moment alone to finish myself off. It turned out neither of them happened. Instead, suddenly, mid rut, he pulled out and moved off the mattress behind me.

“Stay,” he said, in a rough tone of voice I was a not used to. I looked back and up at him, seeing his stormy frown, and then realizing there was another person in the room moving behind me.

I turned more to see, and moved to get up, when a hand pressed between my shoulder blades to keep my chest pressed down to the bed, and another hand took hold of one of my hips – a big hand that held my hips raised all by itself. I had just caught a glimpse of a face and torso settling behind me before being firmly held in place – enough to reach the fast conclusion the man was naked, but not enough to see- but seconds later I felt it as the biggest cock I’d ever known thrust into my upraised pussy.

It was completely unlike my husband, and my body reacted immediately. My body, by deprived sexual satisfaction for so long, did not care that this not my husband, but a stranger, entering me unasked. All my senses knees was that I was being filled, hot, hard, deep by a cock that fit full and true, like it belonged inside me.

Strange, new pleasure shot though me as this cock stuffed me completely, stretching me tight around it. I gasped and moaned in both distress and -something else- as the new penetration found and flipped on an erotic switch I’d never known I possessed. It was amazing and terrifying, and it only got more intense, more magnified, as the man shifted his grip, taking my hips firmly in both hands, and started fucking me.

Despite the pleasure, everything about this was still wrong. Who was this person? What was happening? Why was my husband allowing this – why was he making this happen? I moaned in distress – and helpless pleasure as his body slapped against my ass and his fuck felt so good.

“If I’m not enough for you,” my husband said in a tone I’d never heard before, “Maybe he will be.”

“But – I – don’t – wa-” I tried to protest. Each word came out as a panting whine as the cock filled and thrilled me.

“Liar.” He cut me off. Not loud. A little angry, a little sad. “Liar. Look at you. Your back is arching already, ass raised and begging for more. You’re going to cum on that cock.” I could see him now on the side of the bed, watching another man fuck his wife.

I didn’t understand. I loved him and here he was narrating someone else fucking m. Taking me. But God help me, he was right. It felt so good. So wrong but so good. I couldn’t argue with him. All I could do was stare up at him as a new man, a new cock fucked me closer and closer to orgasm.

“I yield. I concede. I know your children will be beautiful,” were the last words he said to me before my climax took my breath away; before I felt the hot, thick cock pulse deep inside me and start pumping cum, before the world went away in a storm of pleasure.

By the time I came down from it all, my husband was gone.

Categories: Cassie Andra, Erotic Fiction, The Wrong AlphabetTags: , , ,

Cassie Andra

Old enough to know better and not care. Vanilla on the outside. Vanilla through and through, except for the mind. You don't want to go there, but I'll give you peeks. Be warned: erotica themes include standard fun, but also the taboo-est of the taboo. Coming of age, infidelity, family relations, dubious and non-consent. Every throbbing inch of it is, however, fantasy, and should be treated as such.


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