About two years ago at my birthday party, things were getting wild as everybody began to get tanked. Girls were flashing, guys were grabbing, girls kissing girls and grinding for attention, etc. It was about this time I found myself in the mood to fuck. So, I grabbed my wife, gave her the eyes, and we meandered down the hall to our bedroom thinking we'd evaded the attention of our fumbling guests.
Now, to back-track a bit, my wife and I had done some role playing for about a year before this while I was away at college before we were married. I was so damn horny all the time, I'd have tolerated ANY kind of dirty talk; I think that's how I was so suggestible to her "small penis humiliation" role playing. It never bothered me; I was into satisfying her kinks. Plus, I got to jerk off to her dirty talk.
This night, however, all of that old dirty talk was piled on top of me like heavy bricks of reality. We were going at it making out, and she just didn't seem so into it. I mean, she's usually a waterfall down there, but at this moment she was barely wet. So, I switched gears and began to eat her out. She heated up a little, but after a couple of minutes she grabbed my ears and pulled me up to her face. She stared hard at me with such a serious but like "I'm going to fuck your soul" glare and said "I'm ready." I didn't know for what, but it made my heart flutter.
I asked her what she wanted me to do, and she kept staring but a devilish smile spread across her face. Mirroring her excitement, I giggled like a little girl and asked again, "what do you want me to do? Ready for what?" She pulled me closer and whispered, "a big cock." My first thought was that this was awesome. She had found her groove and was ready for dirty talk.
Then after reading her face for about ten seconds I got a sneaking feeling deep in my bowels that she wasn't role playing. Something in her was trying to come out, but I was a coward and I instinctively tried to snuff it. I told her she was drunk and that I would fuck her as hard as she liked. She retorted "no good. I told you your dick is too small. Now I want a big one." Granted, she really was drunk, and her rationale was...well, it was crude. Beside, I had always believed we were just role playing, although I have to admit I had fantasized a little about watching her fuck another guy. So, I swallowed the pill, and I asked her "what do you mean?"
At this point, I'd gone limp from nerves, but I was still very mentally aroused, if that makes sense. Was this really happening? I pushed again through her smirking to inquire "huh?"
"I saw Steve [your stepbrother] getting head in the bathroom. He and Lola didn't lock the door and I accidentally walked in...and it was HUGE!"
She want on to say how since earlier that night she had been consumed by the memory of his cock's image, that she could almost taste it, that she had become infuriatingly jealous of Lola. This was really strange territory for me, hearing my wife talk about somebody I had grown up with like that. I began to feel woozy, like this was the exact opposite of what I'd imagined while jacking off to her voice over the phone a year prior.
I froze. I couldn't pretend I didn't understand her. She was speaking clear as day; she wanted to fuck my stepbrother after realizing that he had a big cock. The first thing that came out of my mouth, not that I really wanted to know, was "so, how big is it?"
"At least twice your size!"
That hurt! My whole life, Steve had been more athletic, luckier with the ladies, had more guy friends, and been generally more masculine than me, even though I've never been described as feminine. Now, where the only area in which my wife seemed to be focused, he was again better.
What was I supposed to do? I asked her if she was serious probably a hundred times. She finally grabbed my shoulders and squared her eyes with mine and assured me: she wanted to fuck my step-brother, and she wanted it now.
It must have been the remnant drunkenness in me that gave me the courage to accomplish what came next. I walked out of the bedroom feeling more defeated than anytime ever before in my life, yet it seemed unreal because only ten minutes had gone by and everybody was bouncing around idiotically as before.
I honed in on Steve, waited until I caught his eye, and after he swung his arm around my neck and hung over me like an orangutan spouting how much he loved me, I sputtered out something like "I don't feel good. Can you go check on Becky?"
"Sure dude! Is she ok?"
"Yea, she's just drunk, and I need to get some air."
And that was the last I saw him that night. I slept on the couch and heard him leave in the morning. When I remembered what could have been happening in my room the night before, I felt too ashamed to go in there and see my wife. I stayed on the couch pretending to be asleep even after my wife had awaken and moved about the kitchen.
Fast forward to today, two years of regular fucking between Steve and Becky, and my wife asked me what I thought about Steve moving in. I mentioned meekly how I thought it would be weird, and she assured me she was perfectly comfortable with it. I don't know exactly how ya going to play out, but I know where I've been: cuckold heaven.
FUCK MY WIFE!
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