The third person I ever had sex with was my husband so you couldn’t call me promiscuous. I lost my virginity aged 18 during a drunken student party and I was not at all impressed with the whole sex thing. The second man came along two years later; he was my first long term love, well a few months anyway. Then there was Paul, we dated; we got engaged and eventually married. I didn’t know and didn’t care if our sex life was good or not, it was good enough for me. We had and still do have sex regularly and he brings me to completion more often than not, I was content.
We were celebrating 10 years of marriage and my 35th birthday with a foreign holiday. We'd been trying for a child for almost a year and hoped that our trip to Rome would be the key but deep inside I knew that it wasn't so. In quieter moments I had been pondering the inevitable ticking of my biological clock and was vaguely aware that perhaps something was not quite perfect, maybe something was missing from my life but I had no idea what it was. Throughout the plane and car journey home I'd been feeling particularly despondent and I knew that I was upsetting Paul with my sour mood on what should have been a very happy day for us.
Driving from the airport we stopped at a motorway service station. I'd just left the ladies room where I'd had a little weep when I first encountered the man who was to become my lover and my instant reaction was confusion. I should have turned away but his look of shameless desire lifted me in a way I really needed right then. I don’t know how it happened but we collided and we laughed as we both reached to steady each other and then apologise at the same moment.
A little later I was standing right behind that same stranger in the queue for coffee and I was overwhelmed with his presence. The shock I felt knocked me for six as my mind had him caressing my body, making love to me and impregnating me. I have never daydreamed of being loved by another man before and the intensity of this most unique daydream had me reeling. I had sometimes speculated from an artistic viewpoint what this or that hunk of a man would look like naked but I never considered sex, sex just wasn’t so important to me.
Paul guided us to the next table to that same man and as we drank our coffee he started to discuss the stranger, to talk about what he’s seen in the gent’s toilet. I was already guilt-ridden at my feelings in the queue and I just wanted him to change the subject. The animated way Paul spoke and his expression hinted of what he wanted me to do and I was frightened, I began to panic. No. I truly know that my husband loves me so I dismissed those terrifying thoughts and I put my irrational terror down to those wicked thoughts and my brooding mood and my panic subsided. I just couldn’t understand why Paul should be so interested in talking about the size of another mans penis though.
I glanced at him, admittedly he was a good-looking guy. Those speculations I'd had about men had rarely involved a black man, not that I didn't find some black men handsome, certain movie or music stars and the like are nice and light reacts well to the darker skin colours. This man was very good-looking, tall and slender but well muscled, he clearly looked after himself; he was very well dressed and was obviously a confident man. He actually did look a little like one of those movie stars I thought of as being attractive. I realised that while I was studying him he was looking at me and smiling. He winked and I’m sure I flushed with embarrassment at having been caught out.
This made me even angrier with myself and I was getting more upset with Paul. I wished he'd just drop it so I began to tease him with a little reverse psychology; by telling him the effect this man had had on me I had hoped that I’d shock him into dropping the subject, well that backfired. His reaction told me exactly how excited he was and of what he wanted to happen, exactly how much he wanted me to have sex with this man. No absolutely not, I’d never considered infidelity I love my husband and would never contemplate another man.
Then he asked me and it was more of an appeal, the excitement in his voice and those words burned through my mind "Chris! Would you... really?" It was shocking, for some reason Paul wanted me to be unfaithful, to have sex with another man, not just any man but this allegedly exceptionally well endowed man in particular.
My immediate response was of disgust and then guilt for my earlier thoughts and I went with my heart and told him no. I was livid, the instant the word barked from my mouth his expression changed from flushed excitement to total rejection. I remembered that desire in the strangers’ eyes and that guilty flood of lust that he'd created in me. I began to feel quite naughty, I glanced back at the stranger and the words "Would you... really" echoed in my mind. - Would I? No... Definitely not, how could I even think such a thing? He really was very good looking and he was still watching me with those lustful eyes... absolutely not. I turned back to Paul and I could read disappointment on his face, he really wanted me to have sex with this man. No... Definitely not. But to my utter amazement I realised that I’d said "ok."
It had taken almost no time at all from my venomous "no" to my soft "ok." The whole cafe seemed to have gone quiet and I sat a few moments in stunned silence not believing what I’d said. What sort of woman am I? What sort of woman could agree to a proposition like that? I was upset with myself and with Paul for asking me and I was astounded that I could agree. What sort of person could consider having sex with a stranger? The very thought raised an illicit excitement in me and just as I asked Paul to ask the stranger to join us the man got up and walked away. I was extremely relieved and would be having strong words with Paul when we got home but to be brutally truthful I was perhaps a little disappointed.
A few minutes later we saw him again in the car park, how should someone behave in this situation? I'd agreed and I hated it, hated myself, a betrayal of everything I held dear, but to please Paul I'd agreed and Paul seemed so eager and I just couldn't disappoint him so again I asked him to approach the stranger.
Paul spoke to him and he turned to walk away and the bottom fell out of my world. How strange that I should feel such disappointment over someone I don’t know. I honestly don't know what came over me; this stranger had sparked wicked feelings that angered me and made me feel terrible inside and yet so very different, so very excited. With butterflies jumping in my stomach and a little flood of moist warmth I reached out to the stranger and shivered inside as I kissed him. Again that powerful feeling washed over me, that feeling of him making love to me and inseminating me but this time with the insight of what Paul had told me. I was trembling with fear and desire at the thought of his body against mine, of his penis, his huge penis within me.
I walked away from my husband with a complete stranger and I felt so very cheap. I was scared stiff and could feel my heart thumping in my chest, butterflies filled my stomach, my legs were trembling and I was walking in high heel boots that felt very unsteady. My mind was reeling, calling me such horrible names, 'slut, whore, slag' but I was so tremendously excited.
I was so embarrassed when I checked us in to that hotel and on the way up to the room it began to sink in just how much Paul had emphasised the size of this strangers penis, his flaccid penis. Paul grows from around one and half, perhaps two inches to almost five inches, how big would five or six flaccid inches grow? He’s bigger flaccid than Paul is erect, he's going to be huge when he is erect. He's going to be too big for me, what if he's too big? Abject terror began to course through me and by the time we reached the room I was feeling physically sick and on the verge of running.
Then we were in the room and standing facing one another, I was unsure what to do. He took hold of my hand and said "You're apprehensive, it's not too late and I’d understand if you leave". I felt very confused, guilty as hell and full of apprehension and I wanted to flee, but then again I just couldn’t disappoint Paul and I was getting such worm sensations in my stomach.
He paused for a few seconds staring deeply into my eyes as though trying to read my mind. If he could’ve seen my thoughts he'd have seen abject terror. I'm quite happy standing up before a boardroom of hard-nosed businessmen and pitching a proposal worth thousands of pounds but this whole situation was beyond my experience. I was alarmed at the sensations this stranger had roused in me. I was terrified of what would happen if I actually enjoyed this and I was petrified of not enjoying it. I was afraid that he'd be too big for me and hurt or damage me. I was scared that I might be too inexperienced and embarrass both the stranger and myself. I was terrified of the damage sex with another man could do to our lives. More than anything I was horror-struck at the thought loosing Paul, loosing our marriage. No, this isn't right, I'm getting out of here.
I was framing what to say, how to apologise and excuse myself when he stepped a little closer, reached and took hold of my other hand and looked deeply into my eyes, his face was so close to mine I could feel his breath and smell his masculinity. I was trembling with fear, my heart was racing; my stomach quivering with butterflies and my legs were like jelly. His warm, erotic aroma wafted across me and I could feel my panties becoming damp from another gush of moist warmth. I was terrified that he was going to kiss me or fondle me, make a grab for me in some intimate place, instead he spoke. I’ll remember what he said forever.
"You really are a very beautiful and seriously desirable woman and I think your husband is totally off his head. You think you're being unfaithful to him, yet..."
He paused for a second or two studying my face. "I'll be perfectly honest with you and perhaps a little more crude than I should be. You are as hot as they come; I’m hard as hell just looking at you and I really want to fuck you right now. I want to lick your clit and push my tongue into your cunt and taste your juice. I want to feel the slick warmth of your cunt caressing up my dick. I want you to beg me, to scream for me to fuck you and I want to fuck you until you beg me to stop and fill you with so much cum that you’ll gurgle when you scream for me to stop. I want to fuck you so badly I've thought of little else since we bumped into each other so I'll admit that I'd be disappointed if you back out. You know that your husband wants this to happen, he must be crazy but he wants me to fuck you. He wants you to feel my dick inside you so you can’t be cheating on him? I'm sure you think you're here to please him but I think that deep down you want me to fuck you. What do you say?"
I've never had anyone talk to me in such base terms. I was mortified that such dirty and explicit talk excited me as much as it did. What did I want? I don’t know, truly I did want him to make love to me, this can’t be right, I’m a married woman. Knowing that it was what Paul wanted only made things worse, I was so confused and I knew that my last chance to escape this awful, erotic situation was sipping away fast. What do I want? He was holding my hands and looking deeply into my eyes, his eyes sparkled with lust, he said, "I need you now".
To this day I don't know if it was that vulgarly seductive speech or the vitality of that "I need you now" that finally tipped the balance.
He pulled me to press against him, he held me in his arms and ever so gently began to stroke my shoulder. He brought his lips to mine and eased the straps off my shoulders as his feathery touch raised my desire. He slipped my dress down and undid my bra and my breasts were free. A total stranger cupped a breast in one hand the other hand found the small of my back and he pulled me firmly to his firm body. His warmth and the pressure of his muscular frame pulled against me, his thick, hard manhood bulged against my stomach.
We kissed passionately each exploring the warm sensuous mouth of the other, our tongues flicking, touching and caressing, his hand slid down to my waist then to my buttocks, he pulled me into him and worked his this manhood against me. He eased a hand between us and he began to stroke my mound and gently massage me. I encircled him with my arms and held him tightly to me.
Here I was in a hotel room being kissed in the most deeply passionate way by a total stranger in the certain knowledge that we would soon be making love and to my shame I was eager. His exquisite, erotic aroma devastated my senses. I felt so guilty, so base, so dirty, so shocked, so naughty, so utterly immoral and so very, very excited as this stranger took a nipple between his lips. He teased with lips and tongue until I began to firm. With finger and thumb he did the same to my other nipple before sliding down gently kissing my stomach through the silk of my dress. He knelt before me and slid my dress up over my hips then eased my panties down. I trembled as he blew onto my pubic hair and circled the long slow breath round and round. I felt the urge, the need to spread my legs, to open the way for him so he could get to my most intimate parts. My legs opened as I stepped out of my panties, he eased me apart and as he blew onto my clitoris my trembling intensified and then his tongue was there. I though my legs would give way, what prevented me from falling to the ground was his hand on my buttocks pressing me into his face.
My dress bunched up around my waste, my breasts free, my nipples hard, my panties discarded. I was wearing a pair of Givenchy ankle boots that were impossible to kick off. My legs were straight and spread and a total stranger, a fully dressed stranger was kneeling before me nuzzling my most intimate place. Strangely I thought that this would make the most wonderful photograph, with back lighting and taken from directly in front of me, his back to the camera.
I was close, I could feel the tension rising, my breath was becoming shallow and panting and he was pushing his face into me harder, licking more intensively. He was still licking me as he guided me to the edge of the bed. As he lowered me my legs spread more and his tongue opened my lips, I parted and he thrust his tongue into me.
The quick, ferocious, darting movements stimulated my labia, my vagina, my clitoris, he even darted the tip of his tongue into my anus. He moved back to massage my clitoris with his tongue and I felt a finger enter me, no, not one but all four I think, I opened to accept him and he pushed his fingers into me. He began to massage my vagina while he was sucking on my clitoris, Oh my God, how I came, a deep and intense orgasm like I'd never experienced before. Why had Paul put me in this situation? Why has he done this to me? Am I cumming this like this because it’s not Paul but a stranger? How can I face him after this? I'll die of shame. What can I say to him after this? How can I possibly tell him, explain to him how exquisite this is, how this stranger made me orgasm so quickly and so powerfully? Why had Paul never made me cum like this? Oh why had Paul never done this to me before?
As I lay shuddering inside he crawled up my body and fiddled with his zipper and then I felt pain, a little stretching pain as I opened when he pushed the head of his penis into me. I could feel the contour of the lip as he entered me. I could feel that ridge passing up my vagina. He was stretching me beyond endurance and I could not help letting out a whimper, then a sob. As I tried to push him away from me he straightened his arms pushing his upper body off me and still he was forcing himself into me. As his arms locked he thrust.
I'm not sure what happened, if I screamed or blacked out, all I knew was a world of agony as I was torn apart, with a sensation of being completely stretched and filled. He froze with much to much of his much to big penis implanted inside me and after a lifetime the pain began to subside from excruciating to merely unbearable. Relief flooded me as he began to withdraw and just as he was on the edge of pulling out completely he thrust again. The first few times hurt as he penetrated deeper and deeper with each lunge then I hit a whole new dimension of torture; I was being stretched beyond endurance when he hit something unforgiving deep inside. The more I tried to push him away the more of his ghastly penis he forced into me and the more the severe, deep and intensive pain in the pit of my stomach blossomed. No... No he's too big. He really is too big, I can’t take this, surely this must be like giving birth (I can tell you now that it just doesn’t compare) and as I screamed for him to take it out something moved inside me. He thrust deeper and as the tension and pain exploded from my body an overwhelming sensation of pleasure, pressure, release and lust enveloped me. His huge and thick black penis filled me completely and I came with the most violently explosive orgasm. He must be so big that he'd hit my cervix, forced it aside and passed it and I remembered a girl at university extolling the virtues of her then current boyfriends' huge penis. Now I envied that girl and thought it strange that I should be thinking of some girl I'd not seen for over 15 years as the waves of the most astounding orgasm ever spread through my body.
And the stranger rested with his penis fully pushed into me, his back arched, his pubic bone thrust against mine and he uttered little groans and grunts as my body trembled. Strange... Stranger... why should stranger be clanging like a bell in my brain?
As that most astounding orgasm began to diminish he started to move inside me, minutely at first, rocking back and forth ever so slowly until I felt like begging him, fuck me. What? I don’t think like that, surely that didn't come from my mind. It did and I wanted to scream at him to fuck me, fuck me hard, fuck me like I've never been fucked before please fuck me. He smiled down at me and I realised I wasn't in my mind, I had actually shouted those words out loud, I'd begged him to fuck me.
He almost withdrew then shock as he rammed back into me and then he was raiding me full length. He almost pulled out then his hips dropped so the head of that huge member rubbed against the front of my vagina then he straightened, powering that magnificent length into me and at the last moment his hips rose so his pubic bone rubbed my clitoris. He slammed into me so quick, so hard and then pulled out so very slowly. "Ooh yess ffffuck meee". His movements were truly driving me crazy and I was very close to cumming again, building up, not only from my clitoris but also from inside my vagina. Kaboom... my arms flew out wide then grasped for his shoulders, my legs lifted and wrapped around his waist. I tried to curl up as I pulled him into me, to make myself as small as possible so I could feel his long, thick, exquisite penis penetrate deeper and stretch me wider. I never thought making love, no, this was definitely not making love, this was fucking, being FUCKED, capitals are important here. I never thought that being FUCKED could be so intense. Realisation... I've never really been fucked before. The word that I thought so crude describes this act perfectly. Fucked, FUCKED, I was being FUCKED, I was being filled completely. FUCKED by a stranger! A total stranger, a black man that I'd first seen probably less than thirty minutes ago is FUCKING me like I've never been fucked before. In truth I've never been fucked before full stop. How long since I met him, what time is it I wonder? Stranger, what's so strange about stranger? He'd kissed me in places Paul had never done and at this very moment his penis is deeper inside me than Paul could ever be. This stranger had made me orgasm three or was it four times much more intensely than Paul had ever managed in not many more minutes; I'm still reeling from the last one that's why my mind is wondering like this.
I bucked on him and squeezed myself tightly around his shaft and shouted "cum, cum now, cum in me please". I pulled him hard into me and he jerked himself deeper forcing pelvic bones to grind, exquisite agony pulsed from deep inside me intensifying my orgasm as he pushed deeply into me. I felt his penis twitch, start to pulse and then throb as his sperm gushed into me. Tenth anniversary, I’ve been married to Paul for ten years today, in fact almost exactly ten years to the hour and a total stranger I met less than an hour ago has just ejaculated deep into my vagina. Stranger... He's filled me with his sperm, he's actually had his tongue in my anus for Gods sake, how personal does a guy need to be before... realisation... Does this happen as strangers? Do I need to know his name?
I gurgled "I'm Chris, who are you?"
His penis shook and shimmied inside me as we laughed, he gasped between sobs of laughter as my laughing caused my vagina to clench and quiver on his dick.
Well that was it, he’d ejaculated so now his penis would shrink, he'd roll off me and that magnificent manhood would slip out of me, we'd tidy ourselves up and go our separate ways. I dreaded going separate ways "Could we do that again sometime soon?"
As I finished the question he jerked out of me, twirled round on the bed, his head fell between my legs and he began to nuzzle me, to lick and suck and blow. I must be soaking, he was licking his own semen, how can a man do that? I was mesmerised by that thought and then I opened my eyes, his enormous penis was only inches from my face. How could I possibly have survived having all of that inside me? I have to admit that I haven’t seen Paul’s so close up but even so comparing to my husband this stranger really was absolutely huge and beautiful to behold.
I’ve never felt Paul with my hands before but tentatively I reached and touched this stranger’s hard penis, I stroked it from base to tip along the underside and it quivered to my touch. I gripped it near the base encircling with my fingers and gave a little squeeze, it was warm and firm. I pulled my hand up his shaft and a bead of semen oozed from the tip. I wonder? I licked the bead away with my tongue and I felt so naughty that I almost came again. It was warm and thick but oddly dry tasting, I expected a creamy taste so I was a little disappointed that it was so salty, otherwise more or less tasteless. I pulled some more and more semen trickled and I licked it away. I kissed and licked that beautiful purple tip and I felt so naughty.
His ministrations down below and my mind telling me how wicked I was were bringing me to orgasm again, I trembled a little and he pulled away. In one smooth movement he was standing beside the bed, I'd been flipped over onto my stomach, he reached underneath me and pulled me up so that I was kneeling on the bed then pushed my head down and pulled my backside back as he thrust. It was hard and vigorous and I was orgasming within seconds. He didn't stop, he just kept ramming hard and deep into me and I came again, then again, this third time didn't stop, it just kept on building and building, peak upon peak and still he fucked me. Is this what they call a multiple orgasm? Yes it must be, here it comes again. I wish Paul were here to see this - to watch me taken to heaven and back over and over again. Oh Paul, thank you, you've helped me discover what's been missing, this is what I've been missing. You must have known that you'd never awoken me, never fucked me and never satisfied an unknown need in me. Oh how it must have torn your heart to think that you were not fulfilling me. I wonder how long you've known? How long you've been longing for this to happen? How long have you been planning this? You know me so well, better than I know myself. I wonder how many more women there are in this world that have never been fucked properly? How many more women who don't realise what they are missing? That's a frightening thought. Paul, you really have to see this, to see me being fucked and why is my mind wondering like this every time this stranger makes me cum.
I was wrenched from my reverie by the strong hands of the stranger pulling me hard against him, my buttocks tight against him, his huge thick penis totally filling me pulsing as more jets of his sperm surged into me. The last traces of my first ever multiple orgasm leaked from my body.
We lay side by side on the bed, I was completely sated and in a state of euphoria. The stranger was still panting from his exertion. His wonderful penis lay in my hand, not fully hard but still firm and weighty and just a little flexible as I stroked him. I did something then that I'd never considered before. I began by kissing his chest as I unbuttoned his shirt. I worked the shirt off his broad shoulders and eased his muscular arms out of the sleeves. I licked sweat from his chest and kissed his nipples then kissed and licked my way down to his manhood. I eased his shoes off then I pushed his boxer shorts down to his ankles then eased his trousers and shorts over each foot as I kissed and licked his thighs. I knelt between his legs where his huge testicles hung and his thick penis lay curving across his belly. This was all new ground to me but it seemed obvious what I needed to do. I lifted his testicles and licked the underside of his scrotum; a wave of his overwhelming, erotic aroma flooded my nostrils, the taste of salt and sex on my tongue and I felt a little flood of pleasure from my vagina. Before he'd pushed his tongue into my anus and it had brought me the most unusual wicked feeling, I did the same to him, first licking the tight puckered ring then probing with my tongue. I’ve never done this before but it just felt that I was doing the right thing. His legs came up and fell onto my shoulders, his hands held my head and pushed me into him. My tongue penetrated deeper, the tight anus opening for my tongue and gripping me tightly. I slid my tongue forward towards his testicles; I licked and kissed them then gently lay them back. Starting right at the base, in the hollow between testicles and penis I slowly and delicately licked and kissed the entire length of the bulge in the underside of his penis. I tasted the mixture of his semen and my own vaginal juice. I reached the bulbous purple tip and worked my tongue up and down the ridge of the V then lifted his firm but flexible penis and took his magnificence between my lips and into my mouth. I really had no idea what I should do but it's called sucking so I did and I brushed him with my tongue at the same time. Paul had asked me to do this for him and the thought always revolted me and now, freely of my own volition I was sucking a dick.
He groaned and tensed and his dick slid further into my mouth and pushed into my throat, I began to heave and gag and he pulled back. I rubbed the tip with my tongue, swirling back and forth and then gripped the base of his dick and began moving my head up and down as I sucked him into me. He hardened and swelled forcing my jaw wider, It became uncomfortable but I was determined to finish what I started. My jaw was on fire and he began pushing me onto him so his dick forced into my throat again, I tried to help pulling back before I gagged then moving forward again. Each time it felt like he went a little deeper into my throat and then his penis began to twitch in my mouth and he pulled my head off him. A thick white jet erupted and plastered my lips and nose. His hard penis was springing upwards and the second jet shot up my forehead and into my hair. I was pulling him back towards my lips when the third jet erupted to splatter in my dangling hair; I could see the globs just hanging there. I overshot and the fourth jet splattered against my chin and neck before I managed to get him between my lips again. I felt the next two jets hit the back of my mouth and I sucked and swallowed, sucked and swallowed. As the last of his semen trickled into my mouth I realised that I’d sucked a man to ejaculation and then drunk at least some of his semen. This day was full of firsts, first time I’d been unfaithful, first time that I’d had a man lick my anus and that I’d ever licked a mans anus, my first multiple orgasm, the first time I’d ever sucked a mans penis, the first time I’d ever drank semen. What was to come?
I made tea and we chatted, "Why would your husband want you to go with another man?" he asked.
I told him what I believed to be true, that I thought Paul thinks that he's not satisfying me properly then I said, "after what you've just given me I'm inclined to agree. I'm only sorry that Paul can't see this, I think he'd really love to see me so fulfilled".
"Not a problem" he stood me up so my back was to him, bent me over and slid into me. The ease in which he entered me compared to the excruciating pain of the first time was blissfully amazing. He gripped me around the waist and propelled me towards the window. He reached out pulled the cord and I was framed in a window to the outside world, being fucked from behind by a stranger in full view of the very public space of a motorway service station and hotel car park. I spotted Paul and waved.
That moment was so outlandishly, terrifyingly erotic. The excitement of Paul seeing me fucked by another man was one thing. The total exposure that I was revelling in, the knowledge that other people were probably watching me be fucked was something else. The trepidation I felt that possibly one of those people were police and us being arrested and winding up in court, my name in headlines in the news papers had me close to cumming all to soon. But my big dicked lover, funny that, even though I still didn’t know his name I was beginning to think of him as a lover rather than a stranger. My big dicked lover was powering into me and I began to be taken over by the sensation as he fucked me to another orgasm. I could see Paul watching me cum, a man standing next to him was talking to him, Paul replied and I wondered what he'd said, had he told the man that I was his wife? I really do hope so, I wanted to shout to the world that I've been well and truly FUCKED.
He pushed a hand into my lower stomach, his other had reached and found a breast, he pulled me back to him and lifted me off the floor with his penis as he stepped forward to press me against the window. Deeply impaled and totally exposed he strummed my clitoris and I exploded inside as he exploded inside me. He lowered me to the floor and as he withdrew I felt his semen flood from me and I saw my husband gasp.
Not enough, I wanted Paul here with me, here in this room, I wanted him to share my experience "Can I ask him to come up?"
"Sure, but first" and he slid my dress down, I stepped out of it and for the first time I stood naked before another man other than my husband or my doctor, the boots only made the situation seem outlandishly erotic.
I sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the bedside phone. My lover pushed me backwards, knelt between my legs and began rubbing himself up and down against my clitoris then sliding towards my vagina, poking the head inside me then pulling out and sliding further down towards my anus. Back up and the head just slipped into me then out and up to my clitoris. I misdialed 3 times, on the forth attempt I heard my husbands voice, just as I spoke my lover powered into me, I gasped. This was absurd, another man was driving me to orgasm whilst talking to my husband on the phone. Not only absurd but absolutely exhilarating, I’m going to cum, I managed to blurt down the phone that Paul should come up to the room then threw the phone down as another wondrous multiple wave of pleasure flooded through me.
He fucked me hard and fast and rubbed my clitoris vigorously with his fingers, just after I screamed with orgasmic delight he pulled out of me and showered me from face to stomach with semen. He slid back into me and gently rode my orgasm as he took my hand and rubbed it in the semen pooled on my stomach.
There was a knock at the door, it opened and Paul stood in the doorway. I've never seen him look so excited, so amazed at anything he'd seen before. My lover rolled off me and Pauls mouth dropped open, he stared and I knew that I wanted him to love me there and then, with this tall black muscular stranger who had brought me so much pleasure, who had filled me and covered me in semen looking on. I spoke and Paul moved forward, he unbuckled his belt and slid his trousers down, he leaned over me and kissed my lips, as he pulled back to kneel between my legs I noticed the glint of my lovers semen on his lips and showing damp on his shirt. He'd kissed me on the lips even thought I had another mans semen there that must have taken a great deal of courage. His penis sort of entered me and it felt different like a ghostly thing, almost not there. He pulled back and fell out; my vagina must have been so sloppy that he couldn't keep himself inside me. He took my hands and he must have seen the semen dripping from my hand and wedding ring, he came so very quickly. I could tell by his far away exquisite expression, the quivering tension in his body, the clenching of muscles the long drawn out sigh that is was good for him.
This black stranger had planned this, the semen glistening on my body, the semen coating my wedding ring, him lying next to us with his penis draped across my stomach. This was designed to leave my husband in no doubt that someone else had fucked me and I really don't know what came over me then. I humiliated him, I humiliated my husband, my love, my partner in life in front of a stranger, I was mortified but it seemed that Paul was so very excited by his shame. The sight of me made him come so quickly, perhaps he felt he'd let me down and perhaps I felt that he had, perhaps I expected too much but I could see exhilaration in his eyes. When I spoke those awful words it excited him that I could say saying something like that with a stranger in the room who had so obviously awoken such intense feelings in me. He was aroused by what I said and I think he knew at that moment that the missing element had been found.
Paul went back to the car and my lover and I fucked twice more. The last time we fucked that day opened my eyes more than anything else that had happened in the previous couple of hours. He began by stroking the head of his penis up and down me, again just letting the tip enter me before pulling out, but each time he reached my anus he pushed a little harder. No. No. I didn't want this and when the head forced into me I screamed as he pushed himself into my rectum. I struggled to push him out, I pushed with my hands, I clenched my cheeks to squeeze him out and I bucked and kicked. As I clenched against him the look of pure evil on his face frightened me. I was in excruciating pain, a pure unrelenting agony and this man I thought could be a lover was revelling in my torture. He held himself with the head of his enormous penis implanted in my anus and stretching me beyond imagination. After what seemed like a lifetime of anguish the pain began to ease and I relaxed a little. Soon he was sliding himself in and out, all the way out then back in. Each time as my anus opened for him or closed as he withdrew I felt a wave of pleasure that I would never have expected. Every time I've cum today my mind has drifted and wondered and now I understood why. I didn't have to concentrate to bring on an orgasm. With Paul I always have to concentrate, to force the orgasm. With this stranger the orgasm happens and I don't even need to think about it, spontaneous, doing what it should to my body without recourse to my mind, leaving my mind free for other things. How weird is that? Or is that how it should be?
As I pondered these questions I understood that the reason I was even thinking about it was because I was cumming. This magnificent man has made me cum with a power I'd never experienced. What was happening now? Fucking my arse was making me cum in a completely different way.
My vagina was pulsating, I watched in horror as gush after gush of clear liquid sprayed up from me, from out of me and splashed on his stomach. The waves of pleasure were overwhelming but at what cost. I was in total panic, I was leaking, not leaking but squirting, gushing, flooding bodily fluid. I'm going to die here, I'm going to die having my ass fucked by a stranger. OK this is it. A wonderful husband has loved me and given me this gift. My only regret is that I've not given him a child... Forgive me Paul... I love you.
I think I shouted this last thought and the stranger must have realised what was happening, that I was panicking. He stopped thrusting but kept himself buried in me. He leaned forward and gripped my shoulder firmly and I could hear him saying "It's all right, It's all right, It's natural, it's perfectly normal look it's stopped, has it never happened to you before?" Still in a panic I shook my head. "This is going to sound contrived but trust me I'm a doctor. Vaginal ejaculation is perfectly normal and I can assure you that there is nothing wrong."
I was grasping at straws when I asked, "r r really a doctor?"
He nodded and said, "Every word is truth, every word I've spoken to you is absolute truth, yes I'm a doctor and vaginal ejaculation is absolutely normal. Now do you want to carry on or should we finish now".
Feeling a little more reassured and with the pressure of his thick hard dick stretching my anal sphincter I replied "Carry on" and so he fucked my arse until he came. At the moment he started to spurt he pushed deeper into me and I stretched to accept the extra girth, I felt a deeply uncomfortable pain in my stomach and looked down to see a pulsating bulge just below my navel.
As his ejaculation subsided he said to me "Paul".
I replied "What about Paul?"
"You asked my name, it's Paul, Doctor Paul xxxxxxxx but my friends just call me Paul, I think it's only fair that any woman that allows me to cum in her arse should be a friend. Chris you are one exceptional woman and you know that you are only the third woman I've met who didn't beg me to stop... insatiable, absolutely exceptional".
We swapped phone numbers and arranged that he would visit us in two weeks time and maybe stay the night. I told him that I'd have to agree it with my husband but I really don't think it’ll be a problem.
That’s the story from my perspective, what follows is not part of the story but relate to the life changing consequences of that fateful day. Please read on if you feel that you want a deeper insight into this and the stories Paul has written.
Remember that this was my husband’s idea, the very thought of having sex with another man was repugnant to me and I surrendered to his will only to please him. As it turned out it was one of the most momentous and liberating events of our lives. That was three years ago and our life has changed in so many meaningful ways. Our love for each other is still as strong as ever but we now have several extra dimensions that we didn't even know existed and those dimensions require implicit trust.
Here are a couple of examples of our trust in each other. We found out a couple of months after that first encounter that Paul was infertile, explaining why I hadn’t conceived. With Paul’s consent my lover and his friends remedied that and I became pregnant following a very eventful weekend. A couple of weeks later my lover’s partner died and he went into a deep depression. On hearing of this, not from me as it happens, Paul immediately packed me off to my lover with instruction not to come home until he was back on his feet, it took ten weeks. I was away from my husband for most of the first trimester of my pregnancy, only seeing him once and communicating with him quite rarely, ten weeks where he was working up to 18 hours a day doing my work as well as his own.
I still see my lover regularly so how can I possibly love my husband? I occasionally have a group sex session with my lover and a few of his friends so how can I possibly love my husband? I have even played at being a prostitute, visiting a red light area in Manchester, renting a room and having sex with several men over a few hours so how can I possibly love my husband? The answer is so obvious that I was surprised that people even suggested that I don’t love my husband. The answer is - how could it be any other way.
You have read about Pauls penultimate gift to me, his ultimate gift was his support, understanding and love when I became pregnant. I became pregnant the weekend following this devastating news that Paul was infertile. My lover introduced me to three of his friends for a non-stop sex party.
The birth caused a commotion among the maternity staff. When I went into labour my husband phoned my lover and I gave birth to twins, a girl and a boy with both my husband and my lover by my side.
My lover had fathered Samantha, named in memory of his deceased partner. To this day we are not sure who fathered Adika, obviously his father is of West African origin and so is our sons name. My lover needed to know if he was a dad, tests proved he was the proud father of a beautiful baby girl and also proved he definitely was not the father of a bouncing baby boy. The other three men are not willing to be tested and I'm not bothered about pushing it. The children have a father, they also have a second father both are called Paul.
Is being seen as the husband of a white wife with a black lover and mixed race children my husbands' greatest humiliation? Being branded a cuckold should be but I'm happy to say no, it actually excites him. You know what it's like whenever parents are pushing a pram along, everybody you pass wants to take a peek at the little darlings. The expressions of shock when some of these busybodies look back up at me then at Paul and back at me could literally have him cuming in his pants.
His most uncomfortable moment was telling his parents who are rather stiff and conservative. Their unexpected and immediate acceptance of my maternity and later our children as their grandchildren did more for Pauls emotional attachment than anything else could have done.
My parents blamed me of course, "How could you?" The scorn they poured on me began to have an effect and I went into a depression. It was not until a few months after the birth when Paul dragged my father out to the pub and explained how he had instigated me taking a lover and his reasons for doing so including his inability to give me the physical satisfaction he so intuitively thought I needed. About his medical inability and our need for a child, a child we had been trying to conceive for more than a year before I became pregnant. Of how I actually became pregnant with a brief outline of what was essentially a two and a half day gang bang apparently my fathers face was a joy to behold. Of how Pauls own parents who were so far to the right they positively leaned at the ankles had accepted our children as theirs. And of course if Paul himself could accept children fathered by other men as his own, then surely the parents of the mother could at least show a little respect for our choices.
On returning to the house my father took me in his arms and wept as he hugged me. He lifted the babies from their pram and sat in his favourite char cradling one in each arm. My mother was not amused and it was another two weeks before she began to come round, possibly the hardest two weeks of her life but now she dotes on her grandchildren.
So Paul sees out children as a gift that in a very roundabout route he has been able to give to me.
How you react to this story is entirely your own affair but I am sure that it will arouse various passions in its readers and will provoke many questions. Feel free to leave your comments below and I will attempt to answer ‘sensible' questions.