Z's First Time


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Z's First Time

byZ and Larson©

Z and I had been married for about three years and had sort of stumbled onto the fact that talking about having other men fuck her while we were making love was a big turn-on for both of us. She had done some flashing for strangers at my request from our very first date, and a little more than flashing on a few occasions, letting someone we didn't know touch her tits, even allowing them to put their fingers inside her vagina. And then we found out it was fun to have her flirt with people we knew, brushing her tits against them, letting them see down her blouse or up her dress, even letting them know, by a look, that we knew they had seen them do it, so that they would know she was doing it on purpose.

That had started with her being obviously aroused and us having a great session in bed after we had been out with other couples where there was a little friendly flirting going on. It was always the playful kind of thing you do among friends, not serious, but real. One night while I was fucking her I mentioned that a relatively new friend, Tom, who was a contractor doing some work on an extensive renovation of an old Victorian we had bought, had been coming on to her a little more than usual. She surprised me by saying out loud what I was thinking – "I know. I think he wants to fuck me."

I was instantly hot, and followed up by asking, "Would you want to do it?"

But she wiggled off the hook with, "He really wants it and that's flattering." But she hadn't denied that she would want to.

I was surprised at my own reaction, but I was also nearly ready to explode with the thought of her opening up her legs for Tom, and I could feel myself getting ready to cum in her, so I pressed on, asking, "You do want to do it don't you?"

"Would you want me to?" She was lifting her hips to meet my thrusts, and she was suddenly as slippery as I had felt her in a while, obviously liking the fantasy.

"Yes, I'd like you to do it. Would you?"

"I want to," She gasped, and as she said it she came as hard as she ever had, and I was about three strokes behind, pumping a huge load into her. As soon as we had caught our breath and I had rolled off and spooned her, she pulled the plug, "It was just a fantasy, you know."

"You came pretty hard for it, though." She didn't say anything.

And that was it for a couple of weeks, but I couldn't get it out of my mind. Every time we made love I thought of it but didn't want to bring it up because I didn't know what her reaction would be and didn't want to press her too far, too fast, because I really knew now that I wanted to have her take another man, and to watch it happen.

A couple of weeks later we were again out with our usual group, and I made sure to invite Tom, who was still working on our house. Having seen him look at Z as he went about his contracting duties, I was pretty sure he wanted her. At this outing, once again, Tom's attentions amounted to a little more than the usual casual flirting. And I noticed that Z was allowing a little more of it, being a little more explicit in her replies and responses, although still relaxed – not explicit enough to arouse much attention from the others, although I noticed the difference – a little more tension, a touch more acceptance, more slightly nervous laughter.

About half way through the evening I caught her looking over at me and then glancing away right after she had been looking at Tom, talking and laughing with him. She did it again a few minutes later, and this time I thought she looked a little flushed, like she does when she's hot for sex. A little later Tom asked her to dance – no big thing in this group – and they were gone for three numbers. I caught glimpses of them on the floor, and there was nothing out of the ordinary that was too obvious, but maybe his hands were on her waist a half a second too long and a couple of inches too high, so that his wrists grazed the undersides of her breasts, on some of the turns. I thought he might have brushed her bottom once or twice, too. No big deal; we were all friends. But when she got back to the table I saw the unmistakable signs of arousal: slightly reddened cheeks, flushed chest above the top of her blouse, a little more laughter than usual, and a couple of furtive sidelong glances at me.

But that was it. Nothing more happened. We went home and got into bed. It was very late, later than usual, maybe 2:00 AM before we turned out the light, and usually she fades after midnight, so I'm used to having her fall asleep without sex, even after being at a club, if we're out that long, so I just snuggled her. After a minute or two, she rolled on her back and sort of did a little jerk – a shake, a kind of silent pout. I asked her what was wrong and she said, "Aren't you interested tonight?"

Of course I was, and immediately slid down and separated her legs to lick her opening, her favorite beginning. I was shocked at how wet she was, how good her cunt smelled with all her juices running, how slippery she was as I put my fingers up inside her. She was even more into the licking than usual, and a little noisier about it. I suspected that her heightened state of arousal was due at least in part to the time dancing and flirting with Tom, of course, but instead of jealousy I found myself unbelievably aroused.

I slid up over her on the bed and positioned my cock at the opening of her vagina, rubbing her clitoris with the bulb. She moaned, tossed her head to the side and back, eyes closed, and pulled her legs back by putting her arms inside her knees and holding herself open.

"You want it, don't you?" I asked as I rubbed the tip of my member on her gaping hole, which was so wet I could feel her juices running down her inner thighs and into her anus.

"Yes." Her head tossed again side to side and she humped up a little trying to invaginate herself. "Put it in."

"Not yet." I wanted her to ache for it – I had an idea. She tossed her head again and exhaled hard, bucking her hips up a little as if to protest. I pulled back and she shook a little in frustration. I rubbed the entire underside of my shaft from tip to base up along her spread-open labia and along her clitoris.

"Oh, God," she moaned. It was involuntary. She wanted it in – she was as hot as I'd ever seen her, and I was ready for it, but I also knew she was hot because of Tom as much as me. And that made me both a little jealous and horribly aroused; it was a delicious and confusing mixture of emotions.

"You want it in you?" I asked again.

"Yes, put it in," she said, a little more insistently. I poised the tip of my cock right at her opening, and she made a little moan and lifted her hips, almost imperceptibly, to take the stroke, but again I changed the angle so that instead of plunging it into her cunt I slid it up along her slippery parted lips and over her pink button, which was engorged and protruding enough for me to feel it. She groaned, half in desire, half in frustration, and made a little involuntary shudder. She was ready.

"I'll put it in if you'll answer one question for me. And you have to be completely honest. OK?"

"OK. What?" Her question had been a bark; she was writhing under me now, over the edge, not just wanting it, but needing it, and she was impatient to be fucked...

"You have to answer without thinking about it. If you hesitate for an instant we're done for the night and you don't get to cum." As if I could have done that – I was about to shoot my load as it was. But she was over the top by now, and I was pretty sure she would answer anything I asked her, and do it truthfully, without thinking, just to get my cock inside her. Or maybe any cock. "You'll tell the truth, no matter what I ask?"

"Yes! What is it? Put it in me!" She sounded almost desperate, and her body said that too – she was as hot as I had ever felt her, sopping wet between her legs, out of control, lifting her hips plaintively to be filled.

"You ready?" I poised the bulb of my cock over the entrance to her vagina again, holding it with my hand so she couldn't thrust her hips up and swallow it, but this time I let just part of the crown separate her labia and I rocked her a little by letting her feel the whole corolla start to penetrate, before backing off. She was wild for it, thrashing, bucking, unable to control her body.

"Yes! Fuck me! Please fuck me!"

"Ready for your question?"

"Yeees. What is it?" She drew out the 'Yes'; it wasn't an answer, it was a plea – she was aching for it now.

"Answer instantly?"


"You want to be fucked now?"


"You want a cock in you?"


"You want Tom's cock in you?"


A jolt surged through me – I wasn't entirely sure she had heard and understood the question, but if she had I might have what I wanted. I put the tip of my penis against her vaginal opening and started to slide it in, but again tipped it so the stroke was external, sliding along her sopping slit, her clitoris a hard, wet bump. She bucked and writhed in obvious frustration and desire.

"You said you'd put it in." It was an almost desperate complaint, and she rolled her hips trying to catch the tip of my cock inside the folds of her labia so she could drive up on my shaft herself, but I took my penis in my hand again to guard against her getting it in.

"You said you wanted to let Tom fuck you. Is that it? Do you want Tom to fuck you instead of me? Is that what you're thinking about? Is it Tom's cock you want inside you?"

"Yeees." She was breathless.

"You want Tom to fuck you? You were thinking about him?

"Yeees. I can't help it." I could tell she was telling the truth. "I was so hot for it tonight, and I think he wants me."

"Yes, I think so, too. You want to do it?" She was bucking under me so hard now that my penis was sliding along her clitoris every time she lifted her hips, and I was afraid she's cum and I'd lose the hold I had over her, so I pulled back all the way and positioned the tip of my cock right at the opening of her vagina, and matched her strokes, pulling back every time she thrust up so that she couldn't get it in, and I held her wrists over her head so she could reach down and do it herself. "I think I want you to fuck Tom if you get this hot for it. Will you?"

"If you want me to." She accepted it so easily.

"I do. Will you do it?"

"Yes, I'll do it." She bucked again.


"Whenever you want me to." Gasping now, she continued to grind her hips up, sensing that now that her secret was out she would get what she needed.

And with that I put the crown of my penis at her sopping gate and gave her the whole shaft of my cock in one stroke, all the way to the bottom of her cunt. She rose up to take it with a tremulous moan, desire mixed with relief. I pounded her cunt as hard as I ever had, and she reciprocated, slamming her cunt up to meet each stroke, splaying her legs open to give me maximum penetration, her soft, undulating whimpering telling me all I needed to know about her heightened state of arousal.

"I'm going to ask him to fuck you next weekend, and I'm going to watch you do it. You'll be a good slut and spread yourself wide open for him, won't you?"


"No hesitation – when I tell you to open yourself for it you give him the whole thing instantly, look him in the eye and show him wet pink – no being coy. Take his cock inside your cunt and let him fuck you. Do a good job, be a good slut for him, and for me."

"I will." It was a hoarse whisper. She was bucking and thrusting, thrashing and tossing.

"And you'll cum for him, won't you? A big one, so he knows you want it."

"Yeees!" And with that she heaved her hips up and exploded in a huge orgasm. In reply to her thrust, my cock unloaded inside her with the biggest stream I had ever spent, pulsing over and over as my semen shot into her womb.

When it was over, as I cuddled her, I whispered to her, "I'm going to do it, you know, make you fuck Tom. You want to and we both know it. And I want to see you do it. Are you going to do it when I tell you to?"

"If you want me to."

"I do."

"OK, I will, then. I promise." They were her last words as she fell asleep.

The next morning we said nothing about it, but that evening I broached it again, saying, "You ready for the thing with Tom on Saturday?

"Are you sure you really want this, Larson? It's a nice fantasy, but I'm not sure I would really like it. Or that you would." I found myself really disappointed in her answer, and frustrated, realizing now how much I wanted to see another man fuck her.

"OK," I replied. "We'll see then." I didn't want to press too hard because I didn't want to scare her off, but I really craved the kind of sexual passion she had displayed the previous night and I was determined to see it happen.

I mentioned it only a couple of other times during the week, once very casually while I was fucking her, but was a little worried about pressing it. What I noticed is that her cunt really got wet as soon as I started talking about her having to open her legs for Tom someday, and she came almost instantly when I did. I wondered if she was feeling my dick or thinking about his.

Finally Saturday arrived. We had made plans to go out again, and Z had made the arrangements. I was interested that she had chosen to go to dinner and a jazz club with a group we knew, and she had heard me when I had casually invited Tom on Wednesday, when I deliberately got home a little early so he would still be working at the house. Her choice of the place suggested that she was hoping something would happen – it was a kind of funky blues joint. At least that's what I hoped. And I knew I would try to find a way to get her to fuck Tom that night if I could. I just didn't know how.

On the way to dinner I introduced the topic again. "You were sure hot for it last Saturday while we were fucking, while we were talking about Tom."

"It was nice," was all she said. But that was an understatement; we had both had the biggest orgasms of our time together – of our lives – in a hot session after the night out with the group, after her dancing with Tom, after our fantasy about letting Tom fuck her.

She didn't look at me as the car moved through traffic, but just stared out the window. She shifted her legs, crossing her left over her right and tugging down on her skirt. She had dressed nicely, in a skirt and blouse, rather than in the blue jeans and shirt we usually wore to these get-togethers with the group. I had also noticed that she had put on a camisole instead of a bra, and it showed, since you could just see the outline of her nipples under the silk blouse, and her breasts jiggled just a little. She isn't very big – 34B – but she has nice tits and it was nice to see them move under her blouse. And both the camisole and the blouse were a little loose at the top – if she leaned forward you could see all the way to her nipples, and I had seen as I had held the car door for her that they were erect, and not because of the temperature – it was warm out.

I had also seen her put on her garter belt and stockings instead of panty hose, something she did for me when we were going to have a hot night, and she had put on her loose-fitting red silk tap pants over her garter belt instead of wearing panties. She looked nice under her skirt. She had on heels too. She was a drop-dead knockout, dressed to the nines and cock bait for sure – not slutty, but definitely looking on the make. She wasn't acting like she was hot for me right now, though; she wasn't talking and looked determinedly out the window.

"Tom will be there again tonight," I offered, trying to steer the conversation toward what I was hoping for, I wanted to know if she would do it, or else learn unambiguously that it wasn't going to happen tonight – either way I'd know how to act. No answer. But I could see her nipples were still hard. Was she a little flushed? I let it go.

When we got there the usual group had already arrived, and Tom was there. There were eight of them, and they waved us over to the two tables they had pulled together. The band was just setting up and we sat down to order drinks and dinner. Tom was across the table from us, one person to Z's right. I was on Z's left. She said hello to him, but then started a conversation with one of the women across from me. She ignored Tom entirely. Too much, I thought; she was trying too hard. It was the first sign that she might go for it. The band started to warm up. Tom didn't know the others well, but was talking to the woman on his left. But he would occasionally glance sideways at Z. I wasn't sure Z would do it, but I was certain Tom wanted it. Men know it when another guy is attracted to their wife.

It took a while, but after dinner and a couple of drinks, and a little over an hour and a half, there was a break in the set and conversation picked up. Z still didn't talk to Tom, or even look over at him. A couple of the women got up to go to the bathroom and Z went with them. Three of the guys went to the bar for another round of drinks for everybody, and Bill and his wife went to check with their baby-sitter. Tom and I were alone at the table. I had to decide what I was going to do.

"Do you like Z?" I asked him pointedly.

"Of course. She's great. A lot of fun." Had he answered a little too fast? Was he a little flustered?

"That's not what I mean. Do you like the way she looks? Does she do anything for you?" Tom rocked back a little in his chair and looked wary.

"Yeah, she's a knockout. You know that. Classy lady." He looked right at me. Wanted to make it look like he'd never had an impure thought about her; too deliberate. He wanted her.

"You should see her in bed," I offered.

"I bet," he laughed, and then thought better of it: "Although we won't go there!" His laugh was supposed to be casual, but it was a little too forced, a tad too nervous. He picked up his beer to take a gulp, but it was empty. He put it down and stared at it.

"Why not go there?" I asked. "Don't tell me you've never thought of having Z in bed."

"Whoa! Not me. Not something I think about," but he had definitely blanched. And he tried to take another drink from his empty glass. Nervous for sure.

"I doubt if that's true, Tom, and I'm not sure I'd be happy about it if it were. You telling me you've never thought about fucking Z?" I had said the word. He couldn't misunderstand what we were talking about now.

Tom jolted back in his chair, clearly flustered now. "Well, sure, I guess," he stammered, "Sure, in the theoretical, fantasy kind of way, sure, sure, I guess so. She's a hot lady, anyone would want her. Like her, I mean. No offense, of course, and I'd never hit on her, but, sure, she's a looker, and smart and funny and interesting; I might have daydreamed it, maybe. But I'd never even think about it for real, of course." He paused. "You really are something. Don't hurt a guy." He tried to make it sound funny, like a joke, but it was a nervous joke.

I smiled at him. I didn't want to spook him. He relaxed a little. I picked up my beer and gestured toward Tom as if offering a toast. "To liking Z," I said, and laughed.

He had no choice, of course, except to raise his glass and answer, "To Z." But his was still empty – he had forgotten – and he was flustered again.

"How about we make it something other than a daydream?" I said as we put our glasses down. I could just barely back out now if I laughed, if I made it a joke. I looked up at Tom and held the gaze. I made my decision. "How about I invite you over to our house after this to fuck her?"

He slammed back in his chair this time. "What are you talking about? I'd never do that. No way! Jeez! What would Z say if she heard you say that? No way, man!"

"Z wants to let you fuck her. We talked about it all week." Now it was out; no matter what happened next I had said it to Tom. He sat there with a stunned and dumbfounded look on his face, mouth open, but he didn't say anything, couldn't say anything. "I know you want to fuck her," I continued. I might as well do it now. "She wants you to fuck her. And I'd like to have you fuck her. She will let you if I set it up, if I arrange it. I want you to do it. Really. And I want to watch you do it to her."

Nothing from Tom. His face was frozen in utter shock; he didn't move. I saw the guys coming back from getting the drinks carrying several each, and the couple with the baby-sitter was on the move from the phone. Before everyone reached the table I had to close this out, lock it down, do something to create the next step. "Stick around late with us tonight. No pressure. No commitments. I don't even know if she'll do it when it's for real instead of a hot fantasy, but it won't hurt you any. If you stay, you might get to fuck Z. I certainly won't mind." And with that I got up to go to the bathroom, just as people started sitting down at the table. The women weren't back yet from the bathroom.

I passed the three of them, including Z, just as they came out of the ladies' room, and Z looked up at me, a quizzical expression on her face; I smiled at her. I went into a stall in the bathroom, even though I just had to piss, just to think. I was so hot my cock was about to bust out of my pants, and I adjusted it so it didn't bind and pinch. Even just handling it made me realize how close to cumming I was and I thought about jerking myself off right there, but didn't; there might be more tonight and I wanted to keep myself at the edge. I needed to communicate privately with Z, to see if I could push her over the edge to do it. I took out a business card from my wallet – it was all I had to write on – and wrote a note on the back of it: "I asked Tom if he wanted to fuck you. I told him you want to fuck him, and that I want him to. He wants to do it. He'll stay late with us. Let's make it happen. We both want it."

When I got back to the table the women had returned. Tom was still in shock, but had recovered enough to be in the conversation. And Z was talking to him – small talk, nothing overt. Tom was really keyed up, I could tell. He looked up at me as I approached the table and then glanced over at Z. It was involuntary – he couldn't help himself. As he realized that he had looked over at her, he blushed and turned away, then looked down, then up at me quickly, then down at his beer. He took a sip, and his hand was shaking. At least he had something in his glass this time. Out of control. I just smiled and nodded at him when he looked up again.

As I sat down next to Z I kissed her on the neck from behind, and after I had pulled my chair in I took her left wrist in my right hand and brought it over to my lap, where I slid my hand up to open hers. Gently I pressed the business card with my note on it into her hand and closed her fingers over it. I held it there with the card in it for a second while I leaned over to her and whispered in her ear, "I told Tom you wanted to do it. Read the note when you can." She looked over at me, not quite knowing whether or not to believe me. I couldn't tell whether she was mad at the thought I might have done it or excited by the hope I had. From the look on her face, probably both. She glanced down, then up. She took her hand away and looked the other direction. I caught her glancing over at Tom, maybe looking for some clue as to whether or not it was true. Then down again. But she didn't blush, and she seemed a lot less nervous than Tom did. A few minutes later she excused herself and wandered back toward the ladies room again; I knew she had slipped away to be able to read the note.

Tom looked up at me. I smiled and nodded slightly, and said in his direction, out loud, "We'll know soon." Tom's face turned red. Everyone else looked at me, then at him. I nodded toward the band, which was about to start up again. "We'll know whether they're really any good – the second set has their original material. Tom was telling me how much he liked their stuff." People went back to their conversations, but a couple of them glanced at Tom as they did, and he was clearly uncomfortable. The band saved him – they started to play an up-tempo jazz number. Z came back to the table and sat down.

She leaned in to whisper to me, "Did you really do this?" She sounded mad, but there was no way out now. I didn't answer, but nodded and glanced over at Tom. Z turned to look at him, and his eyes were on us. He flushed visibly and fidgeted in his seat. Z turned back to me, again whispering, "Are you sure you want this?" I looked at her steadily and nodded yes. She didn't say anything. She didn't blink.

Z turned back to the table and soon thereafter started an animated conversation with Tom. I couldn't tell what she was thinking. She had seemed to be mad all evening, but as it wore on it appeared that she was having a good time again. Eventually there were only five of us left and the last couple excused themselves around 12:30. Now it was just the three of us. Tom was still with us; he was going to do it. If Z would.

There was an awkward silence after we had said goodbye to our other friends and watched them walk out the door. We all turned back to the table. Z looked down; Tom looked at Z. I watched Tom.

"I think we all know what's going on here," I offered. I've talked to you both about this and know you both want it. I'm the only one who could object, and I don't. I want it as much as you do." No reply from either of them, but now they both knew it was true, that I had talked to them both about their fucking, and they both knew that what I had said about each of them wanting it was true. "How about we head back to our house and do this?" I asked.

"Are you sure you want this to happen?" Z asked, turning away from Tom, toward me.

"We really don't need to do this, guys," Tom interrupted. "I'd love to, of course, but I won't ever say anything if either of you wants to call this off – it's probably not really a good idea," Tom volunteered. He was talking to me. And then to Z, "If you don't like this idea I'm outta here; no harm done."

"Be quiet, Tom," Z ordered, shooting him a look. It sounded like she didn't want to let Tom off the hook. "Larson was telling the truth – I told him I wanted sleep with you, and I do, and now you know that, but I don't want to lose my marriage over it."

"Guys, we all three know that now that it's out in the open you're going to fuck each other." Hearing me say the word, 'fuck' jolted them both. No euphemisms any more, no ambiguity at all about what we all were thinking. "You probably would have anyway, eventually, and now it's certain. You can't both know the other is willing to do it and then not follow through. If you do it behind my back it's bound to be destructive. If you do it this way I'm in on it – it's hot. I want you to do it, and I want to see it."

Z looked up at Tom and the two held the gaze for a long moment. And then Z broke the tension by smiling at Tom. "OK, let's go if you're interested, Tom.' She had made her decision. Tom nodded. We paid the check and headed for the parking lot.

As I was holding the door for Z to get into the car, Tom was a few cars away in the next row, and I shouted over at him, "See you at our house in a few minutes. Don't be long."

"Oh, I don't think so, Larson. Not if there's a chance Z is going to do this. Keep her warm for me." Tom had made his decision, too.

I closed the door behind Z and walked around to get in the driver's side and started the car. "It's called cuckolding," Z said as the car came to life. I had heard of cuckolding – I had read about it in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales – The Wife of Bath – in college. I remembered it being vaguely exciting even then. Where was she going with this?

"If we do this you'll be a cuckold for the rest of your life," Z continued. "Another man will have fucked me, will have fucked your wife. You can never have it back once someone else has been inside me. I admit I've been hot for it, but I won't do this if it bothers you." I heard her, but I wasn't so sure. I was thinking it was too late already.

"I know," I answered. "I can't believe I want this, but it's amazingly hot and I do. If you do. I don't want to lose my wife over it either. I want it if you want to do it, and if it won't ruin what we have."

"You have to tell me you want it at least as much as I do," she offered. "I'm not going to have you regret it tomorrow, or ever."

"Well, do you want to do it, Z? You seem to be really hot for him. You admitted you wanted to fuck him. Can you really tell me you won't fuck him anyway, even if I change my mind now?"

Z was thoughtful for a moment. She had always been honest with me, and it was part of what I loved about her. I knew she would be truthful now. All the posturing was over – neither of us was nervous any more. Aroused, horny, hot, but not nervous. We both knew what we knew. "I can promise you that I wouldn't start it, that I won't try to seduce him. So if he leaves me alone, yes, I can promise that I won't fuck him. But I have to tell you that if he makes a pass at me and asks me to fuck him, I'm pretty sure I would let him; I wouldn't be able to say no."

"Pretty sure?" I asked. I wasn't hedging. I just didn't want her to back down, and I probably wouldn't have believed she could have, but I did want to hear her say it.

"I'm sure, Larson. Even if we back out of it tonight, I'm going to fuck him if he asks me to." There was no hesitation now. "It's just about certain now. You've told him I want to fuck him, and that's true. And he wants to fuck me or he wouldn't have decided to go home with us. So he's going to try now, if not tonight, some other day this week at the house, when we're there alone. And when he does I'm going to let him have me. I want him to fuck me. You've sort of set this up, you know, by making him aware that I was interested. And now I know I want to do it, that I will do it, and I hope you want me to now, because it's going to happen. Your only choices are whether it happens tonight, and whether or not you get to see it."

"I want you to fuck him tonight, Z, in front of me. If I get to watch you do it I'll be part of it. I just hope you can love me while you're fucking him."

Z was silent for a moment. "Yes. I love you, Larson. And I don't love Tom. I won't ever fall in love with him. But I do want to fuck Tom. And tonight I want to fuck him more than I want to fuck you. If we do it tonight you can be there to watch, but you need to know that I'll be thinking of him fucking me, of his cock inside me, and I'll cum for him, too, not for you. I'll still love you afterwards, but when he's inside me I'll be his woman, and my cunt will be his cunt. You won't really be a part of it while he's fucking me, except to watch. And I'm willing to talk to you about it afterwards, to tell you the truth about how it felt, how I felt, and I already know that will hurt you, because I want him inside me so unbelievably much, more than I've ever wanted anything, more than I've ever wanted you inside me. I can't help myself. Will you be OK with seeing that?"

"I think so," I answered. "It's what I hoped to hear; it's what I want."

She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek – it was the first really affectionate thing she had done to me that whole evening. "I said I'd do it for you. Now I'm going to do it for Tom. I admit I'm very aroused that Tom wants to fuck me, and that makes me hot, hotter than I've ever been. So I'm going to let you do it. You can stay with us, but please don't interrupt, and no whimpering about it once he's inside me. If you're going to decide you don't want to see it happen, decide it soon, or just leave the room. If you chicken out now, I'm going to tell Tom, in front of you, that he can fuck me later this week at the house when you're not there, so it's done now, OK? You don't have to watch, but you do have to know now that I'm going to do just what we talked about last night, open up for him and be his slut. I'm going to cum for him, not for you. Do you understand? Whenever I do this, and I'm going to do it more than once, I'm his cunt until he's done. Unless he decides he doesn't want to fuck me this is going to happen tonight, and I think I can make him want to do it, don't you?"

I nodded. I was pretty sure there was no stopping it now, not tonight, not ever. I wasn't a cuckold yet, but I knew I would be now, one way or the other, and I felt it between my legs.

When we got to the house, Tom pulled up right behind us; we all got out and went inside. "Anybody want a drink?" I asked.

"I don't think that's what we're thinking about right now, any of us, is it Tom?" Z answered. Tom shook his head. "Let's go upstairs to the bedroom." We followed Z as she climbed the staircase. She went into the bedroom and stood at the foot of the bed, hands on her hips and legs shoulder width apart and faced us as Tom and I came into the room.

"If you want this to happen in front of you, Larson, maybe you better show both me and Tom." I looked at her not knowing quite what she meant, but she glanced down toward her skirt and made a barely perceptible thrust forward with her hips.

I figured it out. I went over to her, squatted down at her feet and took the hem of her skirt in both hands. I gazed up at her, looking for confirmation that I had understood her, and she cocked her head as if to say, "Well?" and then she looked at Tom. I looked over my shoulder at him and saw that he was rapt, cock bulging in his pants. I stood up and took Z's skirt with me, raising it over her hips in one movement. She took the gathered material from me in her hands and pulled it on top of her hips. Her nostrils flared, and her throat and the part of her chest that were visible reddened. She adjusted her stance slightly to spread her legs apart a few more inches and pushed her hips out in a provocative pose. We stood there for what seemed like forever but must have been only a couple of seconds. I put my hand on her left nipple and pinched it a little through her blouse and camisole. She exhaled sharply but kept her gaze steadily on Tom.

"Let him do that if he wants to," she said. I beckoned to Tom and he stepped forward to put his hand on her breasts to fondle them through the soft material. It was electric. This was no accidental brush – I had just watched another man feel my wife's tits. In front of me. At her invitation. My cock was ready to explode.

Now Z turned her head and looked right at me. "If you want to watch this, sit down. " I did. "And Tom, put your fingers up inside me and do this. I'm doing my part." She was. She was doing what I had asked for and it was up to Tom to do the rest. Tom didn't need to be asked again. He squatted down in front of Z and in one motion his hand was up the leg of her loose-fitting tap pants. I could hear the liquid sound as his fingers entered her vaginal opening. "Unnhhhh," she moaned softly. It had started. Z was doing it. Tom was going to do it. My wife was going to let another man fuck her in front of me. I thought again of the word she had used: she was going to make me a cuckold.

Tom fingered her vagina softly, his fingers making a light sliding sound as they went in and out of her parted labia. Z moved her feet a little further apart and squatted a tiny bit to give him better access. Now she was thrusting her hips forward slightly with each stroke of his hand to help him penetrate her. Her head went down on her chest and she let out a low moan, rocking with each gentle movement he made. Tom took his fingers out of her and put them up to his nose, sniffing the scent of her sex into his nostrils, and then to his lips, licking her wetness off his fingers. Z took the opportunity of the interruption of his ministrations to her cunt to reach down and strip off her blouse and camisole. She was standing in front of both of us with her tits exposed, her nipples erect. Tom looked up at them and that was enough for him to take her red silk tap pants and pull them down over her hips to the floor.

Z stepped out of the lingerie Tom had removed. She was nude now except for her red garter belt and black stocking and heels, hips thrust forward to display to Tom her downy brown pubic hair, the moisture from her pussy dripping down her inner thighs. She was the picture of everyone's favorite kinky pose. Z was always wet when we made love, but she was positively dripping now. She looked over at me, "Is this what you want?" she asked. She didn't see me nod my assent because Tom had stood up and had taken her in his arms and was kissing her.

"It's sure what I want," he said. He looked back at me. "Thanks for letting me fuck your wife." And then to Z, "Be a good girl, Z, and open up. I really want to do this." Z responded by opening her mouth for his tongue, giving him hers, arching her back.

"Me too," she said when he paused for a second, "I want to do it, too," and then opened for his tongue again. Tom fondled her tit as he frenched her deeply, pinching her nipple, and it evoked the response I was used to, the soft moan, the open acceptance. In a minute Tom reached down and unbuckled his pants. Z sensed it and dropped down on one knee, finished the job of undoing his belt, and wasted no time in hauling down his pants and underwear as Tom kicked off his shoes. His cock sprang out in front at full mast. His cock was about the same size as mine, and he was as hard as I was at that moment. The head of his penis oozed clear, sticky, lubricating precum. She looked up at me from her vantage point down by his penis, and held my gaze as she licked up the sweet discharge on the end of his cock and then closed her eyes and took his whole member in her mouth as far as it would go.

She didn't ask, and there was no teasing, just as she had promised. She was giving him the kind of blowjob she had given me so many times, licking and sucking with abandon, and I could see Tom was ready to go off. Z always swallowed when I came in her mouth, and I was starting to say something to her to warn her that Tom's cock was unsheathed when I remembered her admonition not to interrupt them. But I need not have worried about him cumming in her mouth because she sucked him for only a couple of minutes before it was too much for Tom; he reached down, took her under the arm, raised her to her feet, and maneuvered her back to the bed, where he pushed her gently down on her back. She scooted to the middle and, without any hesitation or prompting, opened her legs wide, putting her arms over the insides of her knees and pulling herself open. Her sex gaped open, pink and sopping wet. It was wetter than I'd ever seen it – with her vaginal secretions dripping onto her inner thighs and into the cleft of her anus. Her labia were completely visible and wide open, and there was an open hole where her labia parted revealing the inside of her vagina. She was so ready for Tom's cock her vagina had dilated wide to accept him and she was completely exposed. She had done just what I had asked, and now my wife was displaying herself for Tom. She was splayed open, ready and willing to be fucked by another man. I didn't know who was more aroused among the three of us, but it would have been hard to be hotter than I was at that moment. Tom's head went between her legs and his tongue lapped at the sweet liquid from inside her cunt. I could hear, rather than see, his tongue licking, probing, tasting her labia, and I saw him move his face down lower and flick her anus.

"Oh, God," Z exhaled. "Do it now, Tom. Come be in me." Tom raised his head up and moved into position between Z's legs. I tapped him on the shoulder without a word to get his attention. Z shot me a look, but I reached into my pocket and took out one of the condoms I had bought earlier that day in case this happened, held it up for her to see, and handed it to Tom, who took it and nodded.

Tom was on his knees between Z's open legs. He rolled the condom onto his engorged cock and Z reached up and took it in both hands. As Tom leaned forward on his elbows to mount her she positioned it at her female opening and rubbed the tip of his organ over her cunt, lubricating it, massaging her clitoris, back and forth, stopping finally over the distended hole that was the entrance to her cavity. Slowly she rocked her hips, letting only the bulb at the end of Tom's monstrous engine part her labia.

She froze in position, looking over at me now. "Is this what you want? You want to watch? You're not a cuckold yet, and if you're having second thoughts Tom and I can do this later, or you can go in the other room until we're done so you don't have to see it happen. He's not inside me yet. We don't have to do it in front of you. Tom will understand." She was panting, in the throes of desire. But I knew she loved me because she had taken time out to talk to me, even to think of me, as she was poised on the verge of taking inside her the cock she so obviously wanted so much. She was thinking of me even now – she had said I didn't have to watch while she let Tom slide inside her for the first time. I gazed at her, beautiful and in heat, waiting for another man to plunge inside her, and she looked back, eyes burning with desire for the man who was going to fuck her. I nodded for her to go ahead, but she didn't see it – her eyes had closed as Tom slid the tip of his penis over her clitoris.

Tom groaned and bucked a little, trying to break her grip on his cock, trying to encunt her so it would be done. I wasn't sure if he could stop. Or that he would – he was clearly strong enough to force Z now. And I wasn't sure at all that he would understand if I asked them to stop. What's more, I knew his cock would be inside her soon anyway – Z had admitted as much – if not in the next instant it would be later tonight, while I waited in another room, at best the next day – they both knew they wanted it, they both knew how good it was – and they were practically there. My wife was going to fuck another man, was going to take Tom's cock inside her cunt – it was just a matter of whether I was going to be a cuckold now, and get to see it, or later, when I might not, when, having taken them this far and then chickened out, I might mess things up royally. "Hurry," Z said to me, "tell me you want to see him fuck me or leave." Her words were urgent, desperate. I nodded my head to affirm again that I wanted to stay and watch them do it.

"Say it," she insisted. "Do you want him to fuck me in front of you? Do you want to watch while you become a cuckold? Do you want to see Tom inside me? Do you want to watch me to become his slut?"

"Yes. I want that. I want to see him fuck you."

"Well, I want it, too," Z answered, looking at right at me, "but I want it this way," and with that she took Tom's penis in her hand and in one motion she stripped off the condom and tossed it aside. "If we're going to do this he gets me the same way you do, and more besides," Z exclaimed, eyes on me, but blazing with passion for him. And then she turned her face to Tom and opened both her mouth and her legs, positioning the engorged head of his cock at the opening of her cunt. "Fuck me, Tom."

Tom thrust forward and Z slammed her hips upward to accept his whole penis into her vagina in a single stroke. As the shaft disappeared into her soft pink folds and I heard the wet slap of him bottoming out inside her vagina, she moaned as she looked up at Tom and panted, "Cum inside me. Pump your load in me." I was stunned, thrilled, aroused beyond description to see my wife take another man's cock inside her most intimate place. Asking him to cum in her. Without a condom. Without shame. And to ask him to flood her womb with his semen, to make her his. I was a cuckold now, a real one. And I realized I loved it.

Tom was in full rhythm now. He rode Z hard, each stroke full length, all the way out until I could see the head of his cock, all the way back inside Z's cunt until I could hear the wet slap of his testicles against her sopping labia. My wife was fucking another man, and from the look and sound of it she was loving it. She slammed her hips up to receive each driving thrust of his cock, the sucking, slurping sounds of their coupling as his penis slid in and out of her slippery cleft filling my ears together with Z's moans and Tom's grunts.

"Fuck me in the ass, too," Z gasped, "fuck me in both holes." An electric tingle ran all through me. Z and I had tried anal sex a few times, but it was hard for her, and it hurt if I got more than the tip of my penis inside. She couldn't stand it long enough for me to really do it, and I had never actually been able to get my whole penis all the way inside. I had never really fucked her all the way there. And now she had asked Tom to do to her, in front of me, what she had never been able to let me do. Tom withdrew his cock from deep inside Z's vagina, and she lifter her bottom, putting both hands underneath to raise it up, giving Tom access to her small anus. Tom positioned the bulb of his penis on her purple rosette and rubbed it gently back and forth. Z's anus opened slightly as the tip of Tom's organ probed lightly, and Z whimpered softly as she raised herself a little to apply pressure against it. The head of Tom's penis popped inside Z's anus and spread it open as Z moaned and turned her head. Gently, Tom withdrew again and ran his whole shaft up and down Z's genitals, sliding over her clitoris and her wide-open vagina, rubbing the lubrication from inside her over all her genitals. Z's cunt dripped the clear, viscous wetness of her cunt, that I knew smelled and tasted so good, and it ran down into her crack and into her slightly pouting anus.

Tom moved the end of his prick back again to her ass and he rubbed it back and forth, gently massaging it open, allowing Z's juices to make her opening slippery. "Relax and let it in," he ordered Z.

"Um hum," Z answered, breathing carefully as she let her sphincter go. The tip popped inside her again with a little wet plopping sound, and Z sighed and moaned out loud, "Ohhhh, ohhhh, uhhhh, nnnhhh." Tom left it in her this time, waiting for her to be able to accept his organ, pressing it gently in and then relaxing, time and again, as Z rose up to help and rocked softly when Tom pushed gently in and out a tiny bit at a time. Slowly the wetness from her vagina worked down Tom's shaft to her anus, and his strokes became longer and deeper. Z whinnied a soft, tremulous, undulating whimper, "nnnhhh, nnnhhh," and helped lift herself up to take Tom's strokes. He was sliding more easily into her, further with every thrust. And then Z cried out, "All of it, give me all of it, I want it," and Tom drew back all the way out of her anus and then, in one push that Z answered with her own upthrust, he slid his whole penis into Z's anus and buried his shaft in her rectum.

"Oh, God, yes" Z exclaimed sharply, and bucked up, taking Tom's second stroke deep into her intestines. "God, that feels good!" Z was letting Tom fuck her in the ass, all the way inside, and she was loving it. Tom drew out again and then pushed inside her once more, and Z rose up to reciprocate. His strokes became faster, his thrusts harder, his cock disappearing to the hilt inside Z's dark hole. His penis made a slurping sound as it glided in and out now, unobstructed, freely opening her anus as she gave him access to her rectum, to the most private part of her body.

"Both holes," Z begged, "fuck me in both holes." Tom's slippery cock backed out of Z's butt hole and she helped him move the tip up to her vagina. His stroke made her gasp as she took it all in, and then when Tom pulled back again Z rotated her hips to take the next thrust in her anus, and Tom drove it to the hilt. Back and forth, on every stroke Tom's cock alternated between her openings, Z timing the tilt of her pelvis with the rhythm of his thrusts and her accepting answer as he skewered her genitals both ways. Back and forth, in and out of first her vagina and then her rectum, Tom ploughed Z open, Z giving herself to him in a way she had never given herself to me.

Finally Tom's strokes grew more urgent, his thrusts faster, and he took several consecutive long, full turns in Z's rectum and then stiffened, groaned, and drove harder into Z. "In my vagina, cum in my vagina," Z urged, and Tom withdrew from her anus and slammed his cock into her cunt repeatedly, relentlessly slapping against Z's fully opened legs, pounding into her welcoming womanhood, and, as he exploded in the final surge, Z rose up to meet his climax with hers, whimpering an urgent and tremulous acceptance of his ejaculation into her belly as he shot his hot semen into her vagina, bathing her womb in his sticky cum, making her his woman at the same time that her cunt contracted, her clitoris throbbed, her guts ached from the orgasm that, it was obvious to me, was even better than any she had ever had with me.

They lay gasping on the bed for a minute afterwards, and then Tom raised himself up and exhaled, "God, what a fuck you are, Z. I can't believe it." His semen poured out of her as his spent cock withdrew, one of the most beautiful sights I'd ever seen – and I was confronted with the unmistakable evidence that another man had seeded my wife's cunt. And as he rolled over I could see Z's still-distended anus gaping open, Tom's semen running into that private hole as well, into a place I had never cum. He followed my gaze to her bottom and reached over to put three fingers into her ass. "I guess this will be my hole, from now on," he said as Z looked at him and smiled. And then he turned his head toward me and said, "Thanks, man. I loved fucking your wife. You can fuck her too, but how about you shave her cunt for me before tomorrow – I'd like to fuck her again with a bare pussy. And leave her ass for me from now on, OK?"

Z didn't even let me reply. "Larson has never cum in my ass, Tom. And, yes, my anus will be just for you," Z said. "It will be Larson's pleasure to shave my cunt for you, and to reserve my rectum for your use only. Right, Larson? It's what you asked for, isn't it – isn't this what you wanted me to do?" She looked down between her legs and then up at me. "That's Tom's semen dripping out of my pussy. And that's the way we're going to do it, with him in me bareback. I know you don't want him to make me pregnant, so he'll fuck me in the ass on those days. You won't mind. That's already his cum running into my rectum anyway, and I loved it with him. I'm Tom's woman now, his cunt, his cum slut. And you're a cuckold. Tom's going to fuck me more often than you do now; you know that, don't you? Tom's going to fuck me whenever he wants."

I did know, of course. It was obvious from how much she had liked it, how hard she had cum, that she would want to fuck Tom even more now than she wanted to fuck me. "Yes. I know." I had given Z up to Tom. I hoped she would still love me, but I wanted her to fuck Tom, to see her in that kind of need, driven by lust. It was better to see her cum like that with someone else inside her than to fuck her myself – she had been so hot she had taken Tom in her asshole without any trouble – she clearly belonged to him. "Fuck her whenever you like, Tom, any way you want. She's yours." It was true. He could have her any time. No sense in pretending otherwise.

"Yes, Tom, come fuck me any time. That was a bigger cum than any I've had with Larson, and it was just my first with you inside me." She was looking at me as she said it, smiling her beautiful smile. Things had changed. Another man owned my woman sexually now, and I was glad – for her, for him, for me. Z was a slutwife, another man's to fuck from now forward. I was proud of her, proud of what she had done, proud of having her cuckold me.

It's over fifteen years later now and I still am. I never get tired of the sight of her spreading her legs for another man – the moment it's real and not flirting – and I'm very proud of the fact that she's never coy about it, ever – she goes right to showing, "Wet pink with a hole in it," as she describes it, displaying herself to her dates, her partners, to other men – and there have been plenty of others after Tom over the years. She let's them know that she wants to be owned, used, spanked, fucked, by someone else. And she lets me know. I never get tired of the first instant when she shows another man her open labia, or of that flicker of recognition that lights up his face when he realizes he's going to get to fuck my gorgeous wife. I never fail to be aroused beyond description at the moment another man's cock slides into her vagina or pushes past her anus and into her rectum, and I've seen it now hundreds of times, all good. I love the little involuntary shudder she makes as his penis separates her labia or her sphincter and plunges inside, the little gasp that signals she's his now, thinking of his cock in her, of cumming for him. And I never get over the awesome simultaneous jealously and arousal of watching her spasm as she cums with him inside her, and of watching her lift her hips to milk his semen deep into her vagina or rectum as he shoots his load. I am still in awe of the aftermath – of seeing another man's semen run out of her vagina mixed with her wet, silky wetness that tells me she wanted his seed inside her, or of the wet "bllp, plffp, bllpppp, pllpp" sound as his ejaculate gurgles out of her anus, the visible proof that she took his load inside her most secret place, a place I am not allowed to enter. There's nothing like it in the world.