This is a true account, as accurate as my recollection can make it be, of my first experience being shared with another man by my current husband, and of that event’s effect on our relationship. There’s something here for both men and women, and you are invited to share our memory of a singular erotic adventure with us here. About twelve years ago, Scott revealed to me that he would very much enjoy seeing me having sex with another man. In the course of a long weekend afternoon, I told him about several episodes which had occurred in the course of my brief first marriage during which I’d had sex with other men, and I confessed that I often still fantasized about some of those events while masturbating. My husband had no idea that I had such a desire also, and he admitted being somewhat shocked to learn that I felt that way. I reassured him that I could accept his interest in this type of voyeurism, without fully understanding it. I wouldn’t rule out fantasizing about it during sex, I told him, and would even consider actually allowing it to really happen.
With the subject finally in the open, Scott began to introduce fantasies during our sexual activities describing various situations where I might find it pleasurable to copulate with other men. He would tell me that he’d enjoy watching it happen, but that he would also understand if it were too personal for me to share with him this way. We had a friend, a single man about my age, who we socialized with regularly at the time these changes in our fantasy life were taking place. He was a member of Scott’s unit in the Army and often spent the weekends in our spare room off base. Scott began to personalize the fantasies by casting our friend in the role of my lover, instead of the purely imaginary characters or strangers he’d built the fantasies around until then. At first, it embarrassed me a little, but Scott pointed out that he was a good friend, who I enjoyed socializing with, and that by focusing on someone who was real, the fantasy would be more powerful. Scott also pointed out that he was someone I knew that I regarded as physically attractive, and that this didn’t bother him in the least.
With that, I loosened up and began to enjoy the fantasies, with our friend regularly playing the role of my lover in them. This went on for a period of months, and I was getting more comfortable with the idea of being with another man, or, more precisely, of being with our friend. My first husband had forced me to fuck his friends or face being beaten. He would get me drunk or stoned and let them take advantage of me. Scott was merely allowing me to choose this lifestyle. I began to participate more in the fantasies, directing the course I’d take myself, rather than simply accepting the scenario Scott proposed. One afternoon, he brought the subject up again, from the point of view of, “I know that you’ve said you could do this, and when you’re ready, please let me know.” To his complete surprise, I wasn’t at all hesitant about being able to do such a thing soon. I brought up a dozen reasons why it might be difficult, or unwise, to do it while he was still in the Army, but I was not opposed to the idea itself. Scott began to focus more on very prosaic and plausible scenarios during our fantasies, where I and our friend would find us alone together, and our sexual activities occurred almost as an afterthought.
I developed a growing interest in at least the remote possibility of such a thing happening, and began (for the first time) to talk about it away from the context of our sexual activities together. I was now occasionally talking about having intercourse with our friend in a hypothetical way that focused only on some of the details of the difficulties to be overcome before such a thing might happen. I wasn’t yet willing to commit, specifically, to being willing to actually do it, but I no longer considered it to be something I wouldn’t do either. At this time we had access to a private swimming pool where we had the opportunity to occasionally go ‘skinny dipping’. Our friend knew about it, and Scott thought that he might be receptive to joining us there for a swim, so we invited him. After a number of planned rendezvous fell through, he finally joined us there one day. It seemed to take forever to break the ice that afternoon. Both my husband and our friend sat around, fully dressed, apparently embarrassed at the prospect of being the first to take their clothes off. I went ahead and disrobed and got in the pool.
After awhile, my husband came to the pool with his towel wrapped around him, leaving it on a chair as he quickly got into the pool. After another few minutes, our friend came into the pool area, and jumped in. I think that we were both surprised at the appearance of his penis. Frankly, it was larger than I’d expected it to be. He often wears fairly tight jeans, and it seemed odd to me that I’d never noticed a bulge, given the size of the penis I was seeing as he walked toward the pool. Now, in some of the stories that I’ve read in forums such as this one, the description of a gigantic organ would ensue at this point. The truth is not quite so dramatic. Our friend’s penis, completely soft, was about five inches long, but quite thick. The head was fairly small and pointed, but it was bigger around than a silver dollar where the shaft met the tip and it tapered to an even thicker dimension at its base. It was noticeably darker in color than the surrounding skin, and that seemed to emphasize it even more.
Even soft, it had a pronounced tendency to an ‘upward’ curvature and it flopped limply from side to side as he walked quickly to the pool and jumped in. Scott could see out of the corner of his eye that I was staring at it the entire time he took to walk across the deck. Nothing happened that day, but I kept glancing very openly at our friend’s penis more than once. I was clearly fascinated by what I saw, and made no effort to conceal my interest and curiosity. That night I told Scott that I’d been giving the things we’d talked and fantasized about some thought, and that I’d decided that I was willing to have sex with our friend, If he wanted me to, and that I didn’t mind if he watched us do it. I thought that he’d already broached the subject with our friend. Scott told me that he had no idea that we fantasized about him, but that he would find a good way to tell him as soon as he could. I realize that most people with our intentions would have moved fairly quickly to invite our friend into their bed, but we didn’t. To understand this you really have to know us. You’ve probably gathered from my writing style, I tend to be a very ‘detail oriented’ person.
One ‘detail’ about us that I haven’t mentioned yet, we are generally pretty casual about nudity, the embarrassment of my husband that first time at the pool notwithstanding. His feeling of embarrassment that day had less to do with nudity than it had to do with the possibility of something sexual happening. This detail will be important to the story, so I mention it here. Most people aren’t as casual about it as we are, and it may seem a little implausible that we would be nude or semi-nude around the house when our friend was present, but it’s the simple truth. Those of you who are nudists will understand this, and those of you who aren’t may not. Once I decided to make my sexual favors available to our friend it fell to Scott to recruit him. I made it very clear that I just couldn’t get up the nerve to seduce him. I was concerned that he might reject me, which would have been embarrassing for everyone and would certainly have strained our friendship. Given our respective personalities, I felt that it might be difficult for Scott to bring the subject up with our friend.
They both were assigned to the same company at that time, so it was possible to talk with him informally during the day, but the workplace isn’t the best setting to spring something like that on someone, so I knew that it would have to happen sometime when we were socializing on a weekend. Scott really agonized over the right way to bring the subject up. After the pool incident, Scott was getting some subtle signals in his conversations with our friend that his interest had been piqued. It seemed to me that we were having more conversations with sexual overtones, and I felt fairly confident that he wouldn’t reject the opportunity to have intercourse with me. Scott couldn’t bring himself to just blurt it out, however, and the project began to drag on a bit. In the meantime, I would occasionally and ever so casually (usually while doing something like folding the laundry and not looking at Scott as I did so) ask, “Oh, by the way, have you talked with X about getting together yet?”
Scott would have to report no progress, and I was beginning to wonder whether he’d developed ‘cold feet’. Finally we had a frank conversation about it, and Scott admitted that he was having trouble bringing the subject up. Knowing that he often preferred the written word to spoken ones, I then suggested that he write X a letter to introduce the subject. Scott modified my idea somewhat, and turned the letter into something a little more like a combination questionnaire and proposal. We set a date when we’d all three be spending the day together and Scott told me that he’d give X the note on the way to a nearby larger city, where we each had shopping missions planned, so that he’d have some time to think about his answer during our day together. Scott failed to get the note into X’s hands on the way there. He kept looking for an opening, and it just wasn’t there. I was squirming in my seat for the entire trip, waiting for Scott to give X the letter, and he choked. When we got to our destination, we each did our shopping, with me frequently shooting the dreaded ‘Look’ at my husband as we did so, and he knew that the time had come to stand and deliver, or wish that he had.
On the return trip, there was much less conversation. We were all worn out from fighting the crowds and traffic and there were long periods of silence. Finally, Scott took the folded note from his shirt pocket and said, “X, there’s something that we’ve both been wanting to talk with you about for quite awhile, but I haven’t been able to find a way to say it, so I wrote it down for you to read here.”
Our friend, who was in the back seat, had the oddest expression on his face as he leaned forward and took the note. I remember having a passing thought that he looked as though he was thinking that he was about to be ‘downsized’, and laid off as a friend of ours. He sat back in the seat and began to read the note, which ran a couple of pages. Hoping to discern how he might feel about our ‘indecent proposal’, Scott kept trying to catch glimpses of his facial expressions in the rear view mirror as I sat very still, with my hands in my lap, and stared straight ahead. There wasn’t the slightest hint on his face of what must have been going on in his mind. It was a mask of careful attention, a perfect poker face. He read the note twice, folded it carefully and handed it back to my husband. He was obviously about to say something, so I kept my mouth shut to avoid spoiling the moment. Then he admitted that he’d fantasized about having sex with me quite a few times as he masturbated since the pool incident, and that, yes, he would be willing to give what we were suggesting a try, but that he’d like to take it slowly at first if we didn’t mind.
I had been holding my breath and both men could hear me letting it out. Scott said that it would probably be best if he orchestrated the first encounter between them, so that neither would feel obligated to be responsible for making the ‘first move’, and that he would take it in steps, rather than plunging in. All then agreed, and we felt a tremendous sense of relief as well as anticipation. That night X dropped by, as was his habit, to watch a movie with us. We were nude when he got there, and didn’t put anything on when he came in. He seemed a little tense, so Scott suggested that he just make himself comfortable, without feeling that he had to be completely nude, and he took off his shoes and socks, as well as his shirt, and got in bed with us where we watched the movie on the bedroom TV. After the movie, Scott told X that it was time for him to get out of his clothes, and that he’d be orchestrating the events that would happen as we’d agreed to do earlier. He got up, somewhat stiffly, and took his pants and briefs off, folding them neatly and laying them next to his shirt and socks on the hope chest at the foot of the bed.
He wasn’t yet erect, but his penis was somewhat swollen, and it swayed from side to side, pointing downward (but with an upward curvature) at a 45 degree angle as he moved. He crawled back in bed with us, and I noticed him reaching for a Kleenex to wipe the tip of his penis, and within just a few seconds of him handling his penis to wipe it, I saw it becoming erect very quickly, until it pointed upward and was wedged tightly against his stomach. I remember Scott joking that he hadn’t had an erection happen that quickly since he was 17 years old and everyone laughed. Scott told X that he was going to ejaculate that night, and that I was going to help him do it. I could see alternating expressions of relief and disappointment on his face. He’d said that he wanted to take things slowly, and that’s how he was going to get it. Scott instructed me to take X’s penis in my hand, and (after a second of nervous hesitation) I turned over onto my stomach and positioned myself up on my left elbow between his legs, with my face very near his crotch.
For just a moment, Scott thought I might be about to improvise, and take X in my mouth, but I didn’t. I did examine it closely as I began to stroke it, milking quite a bit of fluid from its tip, and using it to lubricate the end of his penis as I cupped and gently massaged his almost hairless scrotum with my left hand. At one point, I briefly licked or kissed the underside of his penis, but this was the extent of my exploration in that regard. X was lying on his back, with his head and shoulders propped up on my pillows, and I had to gently pry his penis away from his stomach in order to fondle it. It was extremely rigid, and it seemed to have a strong tendency to ‘snap’ back into a position that pointed up tightly against his belly when I let it go to change my position slightly. For a moment, Scott was tempted to take a ruler and measure it, but that seemed a little too personal, and he didn’t. I could see it clearly, however, and I would estimate its erect length at something longer than seven, probably near seven and a half inches, long.
The ‘glans’ of his circumcised penis remained rather small, in proportion to his penis, even when his penis was completely erect, and had a somewhat more sharply conical shape than is commonly seen, with a pointed tip at its end not much larger than the opening of the urethra itself. It was very pink in color, in contrast with the shaft itself, which was slightly darker. Scott got a tube of KY Jelly from the nightstand, and dropped a generous glob of it on my palm and watched as I turned my head toward him and began to masturbate X in earnest. I became completely oblivious to my husband, and was clearly enjoying myself as I did so. He didn’t last long at all, and toward the end, I could tell that his ejaculation was imminent and laid his penis up close to his stomach, at which point I began to concentrate my efforts on its tip again. Within a few seconds he began to tremble and moan softly, then began clenching his buttocks repeatedly as he ejaculated three or four long, ropy strings of thick, bright white semen up onto his stomach, chest and neck as I continued to jack the head of his spurting penis as vigorously as I could.
The volume of his ejaculation was impressive, and it reminded me of the large amount of sperm that I would often ejaculate from my boyfriends when I was a teenager. I went to the bathroom to get him a wet washrag, and he cleaned himself off. The stiffness of his erection was gone, but his penis was still swollen to nearly its erect size, and he said that he could probably ejaculate again, and would like to if that was okay with us. I fondled his penis and scrotum for awhile until his erection returned. (although it seemed to be slightly less stiff than it had been the first time) Once he was erect, he took about five minutes the second time, and when he ejaculated, I was holding his penis pointing straight up, away from his stomach this time, and several large droplets of his semen spurted up into my hair. Although the volume of his second ejaculation was less than the first he’d had earlier, it was still more than Scott usually produced, even after abstaining for several days. After X left we had sex twice.
The first time, we fucked with great intensity right after he left and then once again more slowly about an hour later, right before we turned in for the night. And yes, I was very, very wet. We’d crossed a line in our marriage, but not quite all the way, and the feeling of being in a sort of sexual ‘limbo’ that we felt was enjoyable to both of us. Scott said something like, “Sooner or later, he’ll do that (ejaculate) up into your vagina,” and I laughed, with an odd expression on my face that made it clear to Scott that, yes, X probably would whether he wanted us to or not. I could tell that my husband could sense this, and said, in a very loving way, “Honey, I would have been happy to be with you only for the rest of my life, but I’m afraid that you’ve unleashed something in me. Do you understand?” He told me that he did and we went to sleep.
After I masturbated our friend that first time, we began a period of roughly four months during which he would visit us on Friday evenings, just as he’d been doing for some time, to watch a movie that one of us had rented earlier that evening. (all three of us would alternate being the one to choose the movie so that each of us had a chance to pick some of their favorite titles) What made this period of time different for all of us was that after the movie, I would make sure that our friend had experienced at least one ejaculation before he went home. For most of those four months, I used only my hands to masturbate our friend. Sometimes I would lie down beside him, sometimes I would kneel beside him and sometimes I would sit on his thighs as I masturbated him. I learned his rhythms, what he liked and didn’t like, and became quite an expert at jacking him off. Sometimes I would jack him off with lubrication, and sometimes without. Sometimes I would try to finish him off quickly, and sometimes I would build him slowly to some really impressive, ball draining ejaculations. Sometimes he would ejaculate once, sometimes twice.
Usually I would aim his ejaculation up onto his chest, but I allowed it to land on my breasts a few times and once, to their immense amusement, I aimed his penis to the side at the last second and his semen squirted in several long, viscous strings out onto the sheet on Scott’s side of the bed. After several weeks had passed, X asked me if he could masturbate me in return. (he knew that Scott had been making sure I had an orgasm after he went home) I was briefly a little hesitant when he asked me, but I told Scott later that I’d decided that he would have to get used to the sight of me having orgasms with X at some point, and I allowed X to masturbate me with his hand. The first time he attempted to masturbate me, his technique was terribly crude. In fact, it was completely ineffective. He began by using his middle finger, like a dildo, plunging it as rapidly as he could in and out of my vagina. I told him that for me, the action was mostly on the outside, and showed him how to massage my clitoris and the area in front of it, until I had my first orgasm with him.
His technique became steadily better, and soon we were masturbating each other quite skillfully. He then began to experiment with oral sex, and was able to bring me to multiple orgasms using his mouth even though I had not offered to suck his penis in return. (despite Scott’s desire and numerous requests, expressed at times when X wasn’t present, that I do so) At this point we were ready for more, but we had been putting off our having sexual intercourse by mutual agreement to make it that much more ‘forbidden’ and powerful for all of us when it finally did happen. We had reached a point where we clearly wanted each other this way, but Scott kept us from taking the final step, knowing how much the tension was building for us. Scott realized that if he stood in our way too long, we’d probably meet secretly, so he began to fight a retreating action, giving the nod of approval to a little more each time we’d get together.
At this point, I abandoned the use of my hands to masturbate him. I would have him lie on his back, and then I would apply a glob of KY Jelly to the underside of his penis, as it lay erect against his belly. Then I would sit on his lap and begin thrusting with my hips, sliding my wet slit up and down the underside of his penis. Scott kept a close eye on what was happening, knowing that we were both tempted to let his penis slide up into me. Fortunately, his sheer size, the pronounced upward curvature of his penis, and the way he carried it held tight up against his stomach when erect made an accidental insertion fairly unlikely. In the beginning, using my new technique, I would hump him with my hips until he was just about to ejaculate, and then I’d stop abruptly, with roughly half of his penis exposed in front of my vaginal area. I would then watch him attentively as he ejaculated his sperm up onto his stomach and chest. Although I’m not much of a ‘talker’ during sexual activity, Scott did happen to overhear me say to X in a low voice the second or third time we did this that I loved the sight of his semen, “Coming out of you so close (to my vagina).”
After I’d masturbated him this way a number of times Scott noticed that our discipline was beginning to break down. I was becoming increasingly careless with my hip thrusts, and he could tell that we both desperately wanted for X’s penis to ‘accidentally’ slip up into my pussy. Inevitably, there came a night when we took a step to a point just barely short of actual intercourse. I was humping my hips, and rubbing my slit against his penis as had become our custom, and coming very close to having an orgasm doing it. He held off as long as he could and, just as he was about to ejaculate, he put his hands on my hips, urging me to move my vagina’s opening up over the tip of his penis. He’d done this a couple of times before, but I’d always refused, shaking my head ‘no’, until this time. This time however, I quickly slid upward in his lap until the tip of his penis was directly beneath the opening of my vagina. He told us later that he could feel the tip of his penis slip into the outer opening of my vagina when I did this and that he’d lost control, ejaculating involuntarily as I gently rocked my hips in place.
Suddenly, Scott caught the shocked expression on my face, and I desperately tried to raise my crotch off of his lap in order to separate from him. His eyes were glazed, however, and he was well past any ability to control himself. He threw his head back and held my wide hips tightly against his lap with his arms, and Scott could tell that X was ejaculating as powerfully as he ever had with me. As soon as the throes of his orgasm passed, he returned to his senses and instantly released his grip on my hips. Franticly, I scrambled off of his lap, sitting cross-legged beside him on the bed and pulling the lips of my vagina apart quickly as if searching for his semen. X had a stricken expression on his face, as though he felt he’d done something terrible, and I had a panicked expression on mine as I leaned back, with my body bent over sharply at my waist so that I could see the opening of my pussy as closely as possible. At that moment, I saw his semen. A thick, white globule of it was visible in the opening of my vagina.
It hung suspended there for a fleeting moment, and then it began to run out of me in several large white clots onto the sheet. I had moved to a position in his lap which allowed the tip of his penis to enter the outer opening of my vagina, and the KY Jelly had made such an effective seal between our bodies that his semen had been pumped into me as he ejaculated, as surely as if he’d been deep inside me. I felt it spurting up into my vagina, I told Scott later, and had panicked. Scott held my legs apart and told me to sit still, telling me that it was alright, that he wasn’t upset and that we’d all known this would happen at some point. He reassured our friend that what had happened was okay, and told him to look at his sperm up inside his buddy’s wife’s body for the first time, and he joined Scott as he watched it dripping slowly out of my pussy. Scott told us that there was no longer any point in us putting off having intercourse, that X had finally managed to get some of his semen into my pussy and that what had happened couldn’t ever be undone.
Scott told X absolutely not to masturbate even a single time during the coming week, because that next Friday he was going to have sex with me, and that I deserved his best performance and as much of his semen as he could possibly manage to leave inside of me. I was straightening the sheets, moving on my hands and knees across the bed as he said this to our friend, who was now standing beside the bed. When I turned my back toward him, he turned and moved quickly between my legs, mounting me abruptly from behind. Without waiting for our friend to get dressed and leave the room (as had been our habit until then), he pushed his penis into my filled vagina and began to fuck me, without preliminaries or permission, as hard and fast as he could. I wasn’t expecting it, and I struggled instinctively for a moment before submitting and laying the upper part of my body down against the bed as I pushed my crotch back against his hips to meet his thrusts. As I heard him starting his car in the driveway, Scott was already ejaculating his own sperm as deep as his penis would reach in my cervix.
Scott said he could feel the slimy residue of our friend’s semen there, and I remember him thinking that X’s penis would easily reach deeper into my vagina than he ever could, and that he would soon be doing exactly that on a regular basis. Scott stayed up fairly late that night, long after we’d finished fucking and I’d gone to bed. He watched an old war movie on TV as I slept soundly on my side of the bed in a fetal position with my back to him. He later told me that as the movie ended and he was preparing to turn in, he lifted the edge of my sheet, to get a peek at my nude body, and he noticed that a thick stream of faintly translucent liquid had traced a course from the opening of my pussy down across my buttock and onto the sheet beneath me. The sight of his wife lying there, nude and asleep, with two men’s mingled semen leaking out of her vagina, was overpoweringly erotic to him and he began to masturbate. He played the images of me franticly trying to get off of X, and of my brief struggle as he mounted me from behind, over and over in his mind until he shot a small quantity of almost clear semen up onto my side.
He turned out the light and rolled over, with an image of his wife fucking his friend playing in his mind until he drifted off to sleep. Sometime later, probably around 3:00 am, I woke him by pushing my butt back against him, as I sometimes do. I groped in the darkness until I found his penis, which was erect. I jacked it several times, and then used my hand to lift my buttock so that he could enter me easily. Scott’s penis slipped effortlessly into my slick vagina and he began fucking me in a slow, steady rhythm as he reached around me and massaged my clitoris. I reached my orgasm fairly quickly, but I could tell that he would have quite a bit of difficulty doing the same. He sometimes reaches a point after a great deal of sexual excitement where, even though he’s erect, it’s almost impossible for him to ejaculate. He began to move more rapidly and then flexed his penis several times as powerfully as he could, while at the same time making the sounds I’d expect to hear, and slipped out of me. I reached back and patted his side gently and rolled over on my side of the bed again, and we both went back to sleep.
All week long I could see the anticipation building for me and our friend. We were like two teenaged lovers, who’d circled a day on the calendar and agreed to ‘Do It’ then. Scott’s own anticipation was no less. It was finally going to happen, his lovely wife was going to fuck another man, and he was going to watch them do it. When that Friday finally came, we all felt the relief that comes when a long sought goal is on the brink of realization. We had literally taken months to reach a point that others might have arrived at in mere days or even hours, but the anticipation fostered by our long delay made it an infinitely more powerful experience for all of us. After we watched our movie, our friend stripped off his briefs and I fondled him briefly until he was fully erect. I was lying on the bed between them, and I turned onto my left side to face my husband. Scott turned onto his right side and took me into his arms and began to kiss me, as our friend approached me from behind and began to massage my back.
Scott whispered in my ear, asking me if I was ready for X, and I shook my head ‘yes’. I looked over and saw that our friend was behind me, and that he was obviously eager to begin. The time for preliminaries was over. With his left hand, Scott reached down and grasped my right buttock with the tips of his fingers reaching up into my crotch as far as the opening of my vagina. I could sense that I was very wet there, and he spread his fingers to get a good grip on my wide, but well toned, ass cheek. He lifted my right buttock, pulling my cheeks apart, and that opened my pussy to him. When he did this, I instinctively arched my back slightly and pushed my shapely ass back toward our friend. This invitation to mount me was sufficiently blunt, and no words were needed. Our friend reached down with his right hand and pulled his erect penis away from his stomach. Then, while holding it in position, he began to adjust his body’s position behind me. I could tell by the short thrusting movements he was making with his hips that he was attempting to get his penis into my vagina, but that he was missing the mark.
I reached back with my right hand and helped him guide it into my pussy. Then I felt him begin to push up into me in several long, smooth pumping movements, each of which went a little deeper until his thick penis was buried to its hilt in my pussy. Even though Scott knew X was now inside me, he whispered to me, asking if X was in all the way. My eyes were closed and I opened my mouth in an expression of deep pleasure as I nodded yes. X wrapped his arms around my midsection tightly and began thrusting rapidly with his narrow hips as Scott pulled away from me and got out of bed. The pure instinct of a copulating animal had taken over, and X’s only goal was to ejaculate inside me. There wasn’t any finesse, any attempt to pleasure me at all, just a driving need to fill my vagina with his cum. I had moved my right hand back toward our friend’s hips. My hand was grasping his right buttock and I was pulling his pelvis toward me with each wet, slapping thrust.
I also pushed my lower legs between his and hooked my feet together behind the calf of his right leg. I was pushing back against him to meet his thrusts, with my head arched back against his face now, as I made my jiggling housewife’s body and its sex tunnel as available to our friend as completely as I could. I expected him to ejaculate quickly and was amazed when it was over to see that he had lasted almost ten minutes. We never said a word to each other, never changed position or varied our speed to any significant degree that first time. We just fucked and fucked and fucked… Mindlessly, until finally he arched his back and buried himself in me, trembling and grunting, with his buttocks flexing convulsively again and again as he pumped his thick, spurting semen as deeply in my body as the oddly pointed tip of his penis could reach. That was the first time we had each other. There would be other times with him, and, eventually, other men. By the end of Scott’s tour, I had 3 other men’s penises in me, in addition to our friend’s.
How has this affected us? Well, it’s helped me to be more confident, more sure of myself, both in and out of bed. I am more aggressive, sexually, and seem to have much stronger and more numerous orgasms during sexual activities. I definitely appreciate Scott’s willingness to allow me the freedom to occasionally seek pleasure on my own terms, and he can honestly tell you that he has absolutely no jealousy of me or my partners. Our marriage is as strong as it ever was, and our activities have not been destructive of our love, or our relationship with each other. Other couple’s experiences may vary. Their expectations and responses may well differ from ours. I would recommend that anyone determined to experiment in this way should do so with due caution. And I don’t know whether we’ll always do this, or whether there’ll come a time when we won’t have the curiosity and desire to continue. But I know this, for me it has been exciting beyond words. Scott has a feeling of deep satisfaction and pleasure when he fucks me, knowing that I’ve just allowed my vagina to be used by other men, and knowing that I will almost certainly continue to allow it to be used by them.
My husband is happy to provide me with the emotional stability and love that I crave, as well as the freedom to occasionally sample the unfamiliar sensation of other men’s penises moving and ejaculating inside me. I fuck other men, yes, but Scott is the one I love and has chosen to spend my life with. I’m quite content with that, and when we decide it’s time to quit the lifestyle, we will! But until then, I will continue to satisfy my husband’s needs for these activities as long as I still turn the heads of all the guys when I walk into a room.