Cuckold, Mf, big cock
Bringing Her Friend Home by A.B.
It was after ten and, though Betsy had called after work to tell me about the party, I couldn't help worrying about her a little. She almost rolled in, giggling like a teenager, and slurring her words. I knew she had too much to drink before I even saw her. When I went into the living room and saw her, there was no doubt.
Still giggling, it didn't seem like her eyes would quite focus as she looked at me, closed the space between us in a few quick steps, threw her arms around my neck, and breathed straight 100 proof bourbon in my face before she kissed me quickly.
"Hi honey," she said too loud.
"Looks like the party was fun," I told her and smiled at her head toss and grin.
"Oh yeah. Really fun." Then she looked embarrassed, held up a finger dramatically, and staggered back to the front door. "Come on in. It's okay I promise."
I could only watch as she drew a large, smiling man through the door and, still holding his hand, through the room to me.
"Honey, this is uh Bob. Bob right?" she asked him with a giggle.
"Yeah. Bob Wright," he said, shaking my hand and smiling. He'd had quite a bit to drink but nowhere close to as much as Betsy had. Or, at least, he didn't show it. "Wright with a W."
"I finally found Mr. Right," Betsy said with another giggle. "After all this time. And I didn't think he really existed." Then she did a dramatic hush motion with her finger over her lips and stage whispered, "And you know what? Mr. Right says he has the biggest cock I'll ever see and he can touch places in me that nobody ever ever did. Do you believe that?"
I looked at the man and thought, since he was about 6-4 to my 5-8, that if he was proportional he'd probably be considerably bigger than I am. And since Betsy and I were married when I graduated from college and she was just finishing her freshman year with her wedding night surprise of her provable virginity, I'd guess he would be the biggest she'd ever seen. If, on the other hand, he was disproportionately large (instead of disproportionately small as I am), her statement would definitely be true.
Worse, the guy looked as if he was chiseled from stone in some artist's depiction of a woman's ideal man. Dark hair, five o'clock shadow, piercing gray eyes, a nice mouth full of perfect white teeth shown by a nice smile, a square jaw, broad shoulders, and narrow waist. He was also stylishly dressed in a polo shirt and stone washed jeans over a pair of moccasins with no socks. His biceps bulged as did his forearms.
"Betsy told me you aren't very big and it's the only one she's seen, so I thought I was safe," he said with a pleasant chuckle. "But, really, I've been told often than I'm unusually long.
"So," he continued. "Have you measured yourself?" I hadn't and told him that with a simple no and a shake of my head. "So what would you guess? Six? Seven inches?" I chuckled at that and shook my head again.
"Heavens no," Betsy added for me. "Maybe half that. Little tiny," she said squinting to further demonstrate her ***** state as she held up fingers about an inch apart. He laughed loudly.
"I'm sure you are underestimating," he said in my support. "But, if it's true that your husband's is the only one you've seen --"
"Oh, it's true. Except pictures," she interrupted. I didn't know where she'd seen pictures.
"Okay. Then we can be sure it's the biggest you've seen so far. But I think it's probably the biggest you'd see even if you went shopping for big ones or had been with a lot of guys." He smiled.
"Bigger than anybody," she said with a flourish of both hands, nearly falling over.
"I guess you'll never know unless you look for yourself," he said with an evil twinkle.
"I'll show you mine if uh I see ... get to look," she said drunkenly.
"Maybe it's not such a good idea," I interjected into the conversation, speaking to him since he seemed to be closer to sober.
"Oh no no. No!" she said. "I've got to see the biggest thing I'll ever see. I never saw before. I bet I'll like to see the biggest.
"Great big long?" she said, holding her arms out from her shoulders. "Great big around I bet, too." She made a circle of her arms to demonstrate.
"Maybe not quite that big," he said with a big smile. It bothered me a little that they both seemed to be moving the idea forward even though Betsy was so obviously out of it. She couldn't be serious about what the probable result would be if she allowed the guy to go on with this and I was sure she'd hate herself in the morning.
I know that some men fantasize about their wives being with another man but it wasn't one of my fantasies. In fact, I'd always dreaded the idea of testing the old saying that size doesn't matter. After all, if the saying was wrong, what could I do about it? Do penis exercises? Get a transplant?
Besides, part of the saying was that it only mattered how you use it and I didn't know if I used my small tool well or not. The two other girls I'd been with before Betsy hadn't been virgins but also hadn't said anything about how great I fucked. I'm only a little less naive than Betsy is. And this guy looked like he knew quite well what to do with his equipment.
"I see ... I mean I believe ... seeing," she said, messing up the quote and giggling.
"Nothing like seeing to believe, I always say," he said. Astonishingly to me, that's when he tugged his belt loose, kicked off his moccasins, and stepped out of his pants. His hairy legs were as muscular as his biceps and his hips and butt as hard and tight looking as the rest. Worse, of course, the bulge in his tight red briefs was intimidating.
I wondered, as I looked from him to Betsy, if she realized the position she'd put us in and the very probable consequences.
Her entire body language was of interest and the kind of excitement that little kids exhibit when they expect a gift they can hardly wait for. She held her hands across herself and shifted her weight from foot to foot, holding her legs tight together.
He grinned at her, though she didn't see it, as he put his thumbs in his briefs at his hips before pushing them down his legs and stepping out of them before straightening. My worst fears were realized as he stood up and put his hands on his hips. He was mostly soft but still hung well down onto his thighs and was thicker than I was hard. Betsy giggled nervously but didn't move toward it or change how she had been standing or the position of her hands.
"Want to touch it for yourself?" he asked as I watched it begin to harden. Under similar circumstances, I wondered if I would be terminally soft or impossibly hard. Certainly, I wouldn't be as relaxed as he seemed or slowly hardening as he was. Betsy giggled again but obviously less comfortable, glanced up at his grin and back down, and jerkily shook her head. He nodded and put his right hand around the impossible piece of flesh.
I couldn't believe it when he put the other hand around the base of it as his right stroked a few times.
It seemed to fill with each slow stroke with the hardening head being pulled down with the back strokes. The bag hanging below it looked longer than my cock and was filled with balls that were each bigger than my scrotum that moved on their own within.
It stood on its own when he moved his hands. Mine looks like a finger sticking straight out when I'm hard. This one curved up from the 45 degree angle at the base to touch his stomach above his belly button. He peeled his polo shirt over his head in a few quick motions to show it really did touch that high and demonstrate that the wealth of dark pubic hair was connected to a river of hair up his stomach and into a tee shaped mat across his upper chest. He looked like the poster boy for masculinity.
He was so hard, the massive thing hard bounced or swayed as he closed the two strides toward Betsy, stopping about a yard in front of her. Her eyes were glued to it and she didn't react at all as his hands went up to the top button of the shirtwaist dress, unbuttoned it, and moved down across the rest to her waist. He wasn't gentle enough undoing her belt that she could have ignored it under normal conditions but she simply stared down between them as I saw the front of her utilitarian bra in the opening of her dress. She still didn't react as he lifted the skirt as he worked down the remaining buttons to show off her French cut white lace panties and her thigh high stockings.
She still didn't react as he put his hands into the upper part of her dress and moved it off her shoulders and onto her still clasped arms. I was sure she had to react as he moved a little closer, reached around her back, and undid her bra behind her back. Back slightly, he moved the straps off her shoulders and exposed her beautiful up-tilted and very hard nipples.
"Oh yeah," he sighed. "I knew they'd be beautiful." The fingers and thumbs of both hands went to her nipples and rolled them rather roughly. Her simple reaction was to gasp in obvious pleasure as she unclasped her hands. Gravity took her dress and bra to the floor without any effort on her part. Though the look on her face softened with the sensory input from her nipples, her attention was still focused on that cock that, reacting to her pleasure, seemed to jump and harden more.
His fingers and thumbs not only rolled her nipples then but pulled at them slightly, pulling her toward him until her hands finally went up to rest on his forearms. Her mouth came open slightly and I saw the tip of her tongue between her teeth and a little string of saliva from lip to lip.
I knew this was the moment she had to do something to stop this when his hands moved down to her hips. He still stood well away from her so she could look at it as he rubbed her hips before catching a finger in each side of her panties. He wasn't any closer to her when the fingers of both hands were in the tiny back of her panties to move them down over her bottom. I'm not sure what she'd been doing before she got home but the material of her panties were wet and sticky with her juices and seemed to hold against her pussy protectively even when they were inside out with the waistband around her thighs.
He bent slightly without obstructing her view and pulled her panties out from between her legs. She was standing with her legs just the right amount spread so the material could fall from her stocking covered knees to her ankles. No matter how ***** or entranced by the man's cock, she had to know that she'd gone too far at that point. I wondered if there was anything that either she or I could do at that point to stop what looked to be inevitable.
"Uh Bob," I said. "I don't want this to go too far. You know?"
"Yeah. Sure," he answered.
"I think Betsy is pretty *****."
"Oh, I'm sure she's *****. But she knows what she wants," he said with a grin as he looked at her staring at his huge cock. "Don't cha, baby?" She may have nodded jerkily. "So the question is just whether you want to take me to your bed now or take it right here in front of hubby?"
"No. Not bed," she mumbled with a slight shake of her head. I thought it probably meant she understood the position she was in now.
"Sure. Then I think the best is probably right here." I didn't know what he meant and she obviously wasn't paying attention. She still wasn't paying attention as he put his hands under her arms, moved her backward three steps until her bare bottom touched the dining table, lifted her effortlessly to sit on it, and closed the space between them.
"There are a lot of things I'd love to do to you. I bet hubby hasn't eaten that sweet little pussy in a while. But I know you just want to see what this cock feels like buried in your cunt. So that's what we'll do."
I had never talked to her that way and she finally reacted to the words more than her position with her ass on the edge of the table where there was no way for her to reach the floor and only stayed there because he hadn't moved his hands from her sides. Her legs were already partially spread but he stepped closer to her so her knees were outside his thighs as he moved her toward laying back.
"This ought to be about perfect," he said. "I'm lined up perfectly with your cunt and you'll be able to watch it go in with no strain."
"N-no," she finally said. "I'm --"
I interrupted because I knew what she was going to say.
"We use condoms," I put in quickly. "She's never been on the pill."
"I-I'm ovulating," she mumbled.
"Well, good," he said with a big grin. "Now watch this. You'll never forget it."
It actually looked painful for him when he bent the extremely hard curved cock down to kiss her pussy lips gently. She was back to being entranced by the look of it, her eyes big, her lips parted, her nostrils opened. She'd propped herself on her elbows as she stared down between her own legs.
"Wait," I said. "You can't. She said no. It would be ****." I turned to Betsy. "Tell him no." He was rubbing the massive head of his cock up and down in her pussy lips and her body was reacting to it, moving with his movements. "Tell him, Betsy."
"I ... uh I want --"
"Can't you tell? She can hardly wait to see what it feels like opening her. Sliding into her tight little virgin pussy. Pressing hard against her cervix. Maybe opening her inside to it." He chuckled and settled that fat head against her pussy as she licked her lips and just watched. "Watch it open you, honey."
Her eyes were as big as saucers and she had her tongue actually hanging out as she watched him press it against her hole. It actually took a little effort on his part to get it to go into her but it did and she was panting. He chuckled before starting to press forward, pull back slightly, forward, back, forward more. Her hips were rocking and her high heels seemed to lift higher with each forward push though her knees were still bent the same as they had started. By the time he seemed to hit something solider that stopped his forward movement, her knees were actually up against her sides.
From my unique position, I could see that he was about half buried in her.
She was panting hard and still staring down between them. The only thing that broke the tableau was when he pulled it almost all the way out so I could see the foamy white lubrication she'd provided on the long tube. Marked so clearly, there was no doubt that almost half hadn't penetrated her.
But even as I registered my observation, he thrust fast back into her. That got much more of a reaction that a lifted leg or breathing. She squealed and arched her back as her head went back.
Grunting with effort, he moved his hands to her shoulders and pulled himself hard into her. Unbelievable, I watched more and more slowly disappear into her as he squeal extended throughout the ordeal until, with a quick retreat and repeat assault, the space between them disappeared. He stopped and she returned to panting for air silently.
"Does all that cock feel good in you?" he asked her making slow, short strokes inside her.
"Uh huh uh huh," she gasped.
"You know I'm going to put a gallon of cum so deep it'll never come out," he said, one word with each short stroke.
"Y-ye ... ahhhhhhhhhhh!" she squealed again as he retreated about half way and punched back into her.
"You ready? You want it? Now?" he said, still punctuating it with strokes into her.
"Yes! Yes! Ah yes yes yessssssss." Her body seemed to go wild even as he groaned loudly, froze at the deepest, took a breath and pulled back, crashed back into her, froze with a grimace on his face, pulled back and thrust, froze, and finally seemed to relax. Now he was panting, too.
She had stopped breathing or moving in the least, her face fixed open-mouthed with a look of pain frozen in place.
He seemed to recover then and had started pulling his cock out of her slowly before she moaned and breathed again. Her legs came down further as each inch left her body until he pulled completely out of her and her legs dropped in an arc toward the floor. His softened cock dropped to his leg wetly.
"Look at this, friend," he said, holding her pussy lips open. The hole there was better than an inch wide and deep into blackness. The flesh inside it I could see seemed to crawl in muscle contractions. There was a slight pooling of fluid at the bottom of it but I somehow doubted it was his cum.
"You got some options now," he said pedantically. "You can get her sewed up by a doctor sometime and make it small again. You can switch holes, if ya know what I mean. You can get a big dildo to keep her happy. Or you can find me again. She knows where I hang out."
My wife just laid there with her legs open and hanging off the table as he walked back to where his clothes were and put them back on.
"Hey," he said, stepped back toward me and taking my hand to shake. "Enjoyed it. It was great, baby." He patted her pussy as he would have a small kid's head, turned, and left.
I sat down at the kitchen table near her and wondered how profoundly my life had changed. She didn't move.
Bringing Her Friend Home by A.B.
It was after ten and, though Betsy had called after work to tell me about the party, I couldn't help worrying about her a little. She almost rolled in, giggling like a teenager, and slurring her words. I knew she had too much to drink before I even saw her. When I went into the living room and saw her, there was no doubt.
Still giggling, it didn't seem like her eyes would quite focus as she looked at me, closed the space between us in a few quick steps, threw her arms around my neck, and breathed straight 100 proof bourbon in my face before she kissed me quickly.
"Hi honey," she said too loud.
"Looks like the party was fun," I told her and smiled at her head toss and grin.
"Oh yeah. Really fun." Then she looked embarrassed, held up a finger dramatically, and staggered back to the front door. "Come on in. It's okay I promise."
I could only watch as she drew a large, smiling man through the door and, still holding his hand, through the room to me.
"Honey, this is uh Bob. Bob right?" she asked him with a giggle.
"Yeah. Bob Wright," he said, shaking my hand and smiling. He'd had quite a bit to drink but nowhere close to as much as Betsy had. Or, at least, he didn't show it. "Wright with a W."
"I finally found Mr. Right," Betsy said with another giggle. "After all this time. And I didn't think he really existed." Then she did a dramatic hush motion with her finger over her lips and stage whispered, "And you know what? Mr. Right says he has the biggest cock I'll ever see and he can touch places in me that nobody ever ever did. Do you believe that?"
I looked at the man and thought, since he was about 6-4 to my 5-8, that if he was proportional he'd probably be considerably bigger than I am. And since Betsy and I were married when I graduated from college and she was just finishing her freshman year with her wedding night surprise of her provable virginity, I'd guess he would be the biggest she'd ever seen. If, on the other hand, he was disproportionately large (instead of disproportionately small as I am), her statement would definitely be true.
Worse, the guy looked as if he was chiseled from stone in some artist's depiction of a woman's ideal man. Dark hair, five o'clock shadow, piercing gray eyes, a nice mouth full of perfect white teeth shown by a nice smile, a square jaw, broad shoulders, and narrow waist. He was also stylishly dressed in a polo shirt and stone washed jeans over a pair of moccasins with no socks. His biceps bulged as did his forearms.
"Betsy told me you aren't very big and it's the only one she's seen, so I thought I was safe," he said with a pleasant chuckle. "But, really, I've been told often than I'm unusually long.
"So," he continued. "Have you measured yourself?" I hadn't and told him that with a simple no and a shake of my head. "So what would you guess? Six? Seven inches?" I chuckled at that and shook my head again.
"Heavens no," Betsy added for me. "Maybe half that. Little tiny," she said squinting to further demonstrate her ***** state as she held up fingers about an inch apart. He laughed loudly.
"I'm sure you are underestimating," he said in my support. "But, if it's true that your husband's is the only one you've seen --"
"Oh, it's true. Except pictures," she interrupted. I didn't know where she'd seen pictures.
"Okay. Then we can be sure it's the biggest you've seen so far. But I think it's probably the biggest you'd see even if you went shopping for big ones or had been with a lot of guys." He smiled.
"Bigger than anybody," she said with a flourish of both hands, nearly falling over.
"I guess you'll never know unless you look for yourself," he said with an evil twinkle.
"I'll show you mine if uh I see ... get to look," she said drunkenly.
"Maybe it's not such a good idea," I interjected into the conversation, speaking to him since he seemed to be closer to sober.
"Oh no no. No!" she said. "I've got to see the biggest thing I'll ever see. I never saw before. I bet I'll like to see the biggest.
"Great big long?" she said, holding her arms out from her shoulders. "Great big around I bet, too." She made a circle of her arms to demonstrate.
"Maybe not quite that big," he said with a big smile. It bothered me a little that they both seemed to be moving the idea forward even though Betsy was so obviously out of it. She couldn't be serious about what the probable result would be if she allowed the guy to go on with this and I was sure she'd hate herself in the morning.
I know that some men fantasize about their wives being with another man but it wasn't one of my fantasies. In fact, I'd always dreaded the idea of testing the old saying that size doesn't matter. After all, if the saying was wrong, what could I do about it? Do penis exercises? Get a transplant?
Besides, part of the saying was that it only mattered how you use it and I didn't know if I used my small tool well or not. The two other girls I'd been with before Betsy hadn't been virgins but also hadn't said anything about how great I fucked. I'm only a little less naive than Betsy is. And this guy looked like he knew quite well what to do with his equipment.
"I see ... I mean I believe ... seeing," she said, messing up the quote and giggling.
"Nothing like seeing to believe, I always say," he said. Astonishingly to me, that's when he tugged his belt loose, kicked off his moccasins, and stepped out of his pants. His hairy legs were as muscular as his biceps and his hips and butt as hard and tight looking as the rest. Worse, of course, the bulge in his tight red briefs was intimidating.
I wondered, as I looked from him to Betsy, if she realized the position she'd put us in and the very probable consequences.
Her entire body language was of interest and the kind of excitement that little kids exhibit when they expect a gift they can hardly wait for. She held her hands across herself and shifted her weight from foot to foot, holding her legs tight together.
He grinned at her, though she didn't see it, as he put his thumbs in his briefs at his hips before pushing them down his legs and stepping out of them before straightening. My worst fears were realized as he stood up and put his hands on his hips. He was mostly soft but still hung well down onto his thighs and was thicker than I was hard. Betsy giggled nervously but didn't move toward it or change how she had been standing or the position of her hands.
"Want to touch it for yourself?" he asked as I watched it begin to harden. Under similar circumstances, I wondered if I would be terminally soft or impossibly hard. Certainly, I wouldn't be as relaxed as he seemed or slowly hardening as he was. Betsy giggled again but obviously less comfortable, glanced up at his grin and back down, and jerkily shook her head. He nodded and put his right hand around the impossible piece of flesh.
I couldn't believe it when he put the other hand around the base of it as his right stroked a few times.
It seemed to fill with each slow stroke with the hardening head being pulled down with the back strokes. The bag hanging below it looked longer than my cock and was filled with balls that were each bigger than my scrotum that moved on their own within.
It stood on its own when he moved his hands. Mine looks like a finger sticking straight out when I'm hard. This one curved up from the 45 degree angle at the base to touch his stomach above his belly button. He peeled his polo shirt over his head in a few quick motions to show it really did touch that high and demonstrate that the wealth of dark pubic hair was connected to a river of hair up his stomach and into a tee shaped mat across his upper chest. He looked like the poster boy for masculinity.
He was so hard, the massive thing hard bounced or swayed as he closed the two strides toward Betsy, stopping about a yard in front of her. Her eyes were glued to it and she didn't react at all as his hands went up to the top button of the shirtwaist dress, unbuttoned it, and moved down across the rest to her waist. He wasn't gentle enough undoing her belt that she could have ignored it under normal conditions but she simply stared down between them as I saw the front of her utilitarian bra in the opening of her dress. She still didn't react as he lifted the skirt as he worked down the remaining buttons to show off her French cut white lace panties and her thigh high stockings.
She still didn't react as he put his hands into the upper part of her dress and moved it off her shoulders and onto her still clasped arms. I was sure she had to react as he moved a little closer, reached around her back, and undid her bra behind her back. Back slightly, he moved the straps off her shoulders and exposed her beautiful up-tilted and very hard nipples.
"Oh yeah," he sighed. "I knew they'd be beautiful." The fingers and thumbs of both hands went to her nipples and rolled them rather roughly. Her simple reaction was to gasp in obvious pleasure as she unclasped her hands. Gravity took her dress and bra to the floor without any effort on her part. Though the look on her face softened with the sensory input from her nipples, her attention was still focused on that cock that, reacting to her pleasure, seemed to jump and harden more.
His fingers and thumbs not only rolled her nipples then but pulled at them slightly, pulling her toward him until her hands finally went up to rest on his forearms. Her mouth came open slightly and I saw the tip of her tongue between her teeth and a little string of saliva from lip to lip.
I knew this was the moment she had to do something to stop this when his hands moved down to her hips. He still stood well away from her so she could look at it as he rubbed her hips before catching a finger in each side of her panties. He wasn't any closer to her when the fingers of both hands were in the tiny back of her panties to move them down over her bottom. I'm not sure what she'd been doing before she got home but the material of her panties were wet and sticky with her juices and seemed to hold against her pussy protectively even when they were inside out with the waistband around her thighs.
He bent slightly without obstructing her view and pulled her panties out from between her legs. She was standing with her legs just the right amount spread so the material could fall from her stocking covered knees to her ankles. No matter how ***** or entranced by the man's cock, she had to know that she'd gone too far at that point. I wondered if there was anything that either she or I could do at that point to stop what looked to be inevitable.
"Uh Bob," I said. "I don't want this to go too far. You know?"
"Yeah. Sure," he answered.
"I think Betsy is pretty *****."
"Oh, I'm sure she's *****. But she knows what she wants," he said with a grin as he looked at her staring at his huge cock. "Don't cha, baby?" She may have nodded jerkily. "So the question is just whether you want to take me to your bed now or take it right here in front of hubby?"
"No. Not bed," she mumbled with a slight shake of her head. I thought it probably meant she understood the position she was in now.
"Sure. Then I think the best is probably right here." I didn't know what he meant and she obviously wasn't paying attention. She still wasn't paying attention as he put his hands under her arms, moved her backward three steps until her bare bottom touched the dining table, lifted her effortlessly to sit on it, and closed the space between them.
"There are a lot of things I'd love to do to you. I bet hubby hasn't eaten that sweet little pussy in a while. But I know you just want to see what this cock feels like buried in your cunt. So that's what we'll do."
I had never talked to her that way and she finally reacted to the words more than her position with her ass on the edge of the table where there was no way for her to reach the floor and only stayed there because he hadn't moved his hands from her sides. Her legs were already partially spread but he stepped closer to her so her knees were outside his thighs as he moved her toward laying back.
"This ought to be about perfect," he said. "I'm lined up perfectly with your cunt and you'll be able to watch it go in with no strain."
"N-no," she finally said. "I'm --"
I interrupted because I knew what she was going to say.
"We use condoms," I put in quickly. "She's never been on the pill."
"I-I'm ovulating," she mumbled.
"Well, good," he said with a big grin. "Now watch this. You'll never forget it."
It actually looked painful for him when he bent the extremely hard curved cock down to kiss her pussy lips gently. She was back to being entranced by the look of it, her eyes big, her lips parted, her nostrils opened. She'd propped herself on her elbows as she stared down between her own legs.
"Wait," I said. "You can't. She said no. It would be ****." I turned to Betsy. "Tell him no." He was rubbing the massive head of his cock up and down in her pussy lips and her body was reacting to it, moving with his movements. "Tell him, Betsy."
"I ... uh I want --"
"Can't you tell? She can hardly wait to see what it feels like opening her. Sliding into her tight little virgin pussy. Pressing hard against her cervix. Maybe opening her inside to it." He chuckled and settled that fat head against her pussy as she licked her lips and just watched. "Watch it open you, honey."
Her eyes were as big as saucers and she had her tongue actually hanging out as she watched him press it against her hole. It actually took a little effort on his part to get it to go into her but it did and she was panting. He chuckled before starting to press forward, pull back slightly, forward, back, forward more. Her hips were rocking and her high heels seemed to lift higher with each forward push though her knees were still bent the same as they had started. By the time he seemed to hit something solider that stopped his forward movement, her knees were actually up against her sides.
From my unique position, I could see that he was about half buried in her.
She was panting hard and still staring down between them. The only thing that broke the tableau was when he pulled it almost all the way out so I could see the foamy white lubrication she'd provided on the long tube. Marked so clearly, there was no doubt that almost half hadn't penetrated her.
But even as I registered my observation, he thrust fast back into her. That got much more of a reaction that a lifted leg or breathing. She squealed and arched her back as her head went back.
Grunting with effort, he moved his hands to her shoulders and pulled himself hard into her. Unbelievable, I watched more and more slowly disappear into her as he squeal extended throughout the ordeal until, with a quick retreat and repeat assault, the space between them disappeared. He stopped and she returned to panting for air silently.
"Does all that cock feel good in you?" he asked her making slow, short strokes inside her.
"Uh huh uh huh," she gasped.
"You know I'm going to put a gallon of cum so deep it'll never come out," he said, one word with each short stroke.
"Y-ye ... ahhhhhhhhhhh!" she squealed again as he retreated about half way and punched back into her.
"You ready? You want it? Now?" he said, still punctuating it with strokes into her.
"Yes! Yes! Ah yes yes yessssssss." Her body seemed to go wild even as he groaned loudly, froze at the deepest, took a breath and pulled back, crashed back into her, froze with a grimace on his face, pulled back and thrust, froze, and finally seemed to relax. Now he was panting, too.
She had stopped breathing or moving in the least, her face fixed open-mouthed with a look of pain frozen in place.
He seemed to recover then and had started pulling his cock out of her slowly before she moaned and breathed again. Her legs came down further as each inch left her body until he pulled completely out of her and her legs dropped in an arc toward the floor. His softened cock dropped to his leg wetly.
"Look at this, friend," he said, holding her pussy lips open. The hole there was better than an inch wide and deep into blackness. The flesh inside it I could see seemed to crawl in muscle contractions. There was a slight pooling of fluid at the bottom of it but I somehow doubted it was his cum.
"You got some options now," he said pedantically. "You can get her sewed up by a doctor sometime and make it small again. You can switch holes, if ya know what I mean. You can get a big dildo to keep her happy. Or you can find me again. She knows where I hang out."
My wife just laid there with her legs open and hanging off the table as he walked back to where his clothes were and put them back on.
"Hey," he said, stepped back toward me and taking my hand to shake. "Enjoyed it. It was great, baby." He patted her pussy as he would have a small kid's head, turned, and left.
I sat down at the kitchen table near her and wondered how profoundly my life had changed. She didn't move.
