Dean couldn’t know – he’d have minced the loser, and then how could we meet as two couples? I wanted to see my friend, and I wanted to show off Dean. He looked great, especially in contrast to Chad. Unfortunately Dawn had far more class than her husband. She was very discreet when checking out Dean. It was so bloody frustrating.
Until that day two weeks ago. Seeing Dawn’s topless selfie on my husband’s phone, I felt intense jealousy, but also relief. When I realized Dean hadn’t solicited it, I only felt anticipation.
Let me explain. I know this isn’t normal, but try to understand – today I’d get my most closely-held desire. I’d waited years, but at last she’d finally stepped over the line. If this was how she was going to treat me, then fuck morality, I’d do what I wanted. I had limits, and this was it. I loved seeing her boobs again, but what really got me going was what it meant. A big, strong man – my man – taking my…
But that would be giving the story away, and I said I wasn’t going to do that. It’s obvious now, right? If you haven’t already guessed it then you’ll just have to wait. Sorry.
So there was Dean, blindfolded, his cut body glistening in the low light, his cock massive and obscene, throbbing visibly. It was perfect. Of course I had to go and ruin it.
“Dean?”
“Yeah h-honey?” he sounded out of breath. I felt his chest vibrate as he spoke, then realized I was idly stroking it, running my hands through the hair on his chest.
“What do you think of Dawn?” perfectly casual. I should have been an actress.
Dean tensed up. He knew me too well. Well, not the fetish queen Aimee, of course, just Aimee the woman. Aimee the wife. I was sick of her.
“Ai, honey, I swear, we didn’t…” he stopped babbling when I put a finger to his lips.
I felt the rough skin of his lips. Put the tip of my finger between them and felt his teeth. Imagined him penetrating me instead. I shivered with desire. Soon. Very soon.
“But would you? If I didn’t mind?” I insisted. “What if I asked you to? Begged you to?”
“Honey, you’re the only…” my finger silenced him again.
“Let’s try this instead.” I said, gripping his manhood in my hand. My fingers couldn’t wrap all the way around. It was magnificent. My mouth watered… I was getting distracted.
“Imagine this is Dawn’s hand…” I began, my hand stroking slowly up his length. “Imagine her huge breasts – I know you’ve had a good look, you naughty man – imagine them hanging down as she sits on top of you, her hard pink nipples stroking over your lips…”
His mouth opened, just very slightly, but I had him! He wanted my best friend! Wonderful!
“Imagine her tight wet pussy,” I stroked down again, then up, tightening my grip at the top. His cock was so stiff I couldn’t even squash it a millimeter. The heat of it almost burned my hand, inflaming my lust. “Imagine her pussy sliding slowly down your brawny cock.”
As I spoke I mimicked my words, sliding my hand down slowly, eager but reluctant, imagining my friend’s pussy slowly stretching to accommodate his girth. My mouth was watering. I swallowed. Hopefully I’d be doing a lot of that soon.
My hand stopped partway, my fingers needing to move further apart to accommodate him. I had a really naughty thought. Why not?
“Feel that, husband? Poor Dawn. My friend’s having trouble taking your huge cock all the way inside her. She’s dripping wet, but you’re just sooo much thicker than she’s used to. Here, let me help you two out. Aren’t I just the best?”
I leaned forward and licked his penis right under my thumb, pretending it was Dawn’s clitoris. I’m slightly ashamed to admit I got really into it. Like really into it. I was dripping nectar down my bare thighs, onto his leg, onto the sheet, just everywhere. I’m embarrassed to say came a little from my own little play.
“Ohh, yesss, Dawn” he moaned. “I mean Aimee.”
He’d even said it! I could stop anytime now, in fact I needed to, but I didn’t want to. I licked and licked, moving my hand down bit by bit as I liberally lubricated his pole. It began to twitch – he was just about to cum. With great difficulty, I pulled myself back.
~~~~
Dean
“Sounds like a yes to me.” she growled, her voice unusually deep.
Fuck! I was just about to cum! I… oh, no, I told her! I swear, I’d only checked Dawn out a couple of… well, every time she came over, multiple times. Especially after the skinny dipping in our hot tub, I mean I wasn’t dead. My life was over. After Dawn sent me that photo, the rest was inevitable.
Now Aimee knew I wanted to fuck her friend. I hadn’t thought about it before. Honest! Look, if you won’t believe me, how will Aimee? I truly hadn’t. She was the only one. Now I’d fucked it up.
I put my wrist over my eyes, even though I couldn’t see anything. Fuck you Dawn! Why’d she do it? Fuck your gorgeous boobs, I don’t want to feel them. Fuck your nervous lips, I wouldn’t ever have let them touch my cock. Fuck your tight pussy, I wouldn’t ever want to be inside it. I’d been happy! I really loved…
I felt a tug on my wrist. Obediently, I moved it. There was a feeling of cheap fir, covering a metal core.
Click, click, click.
I tried to move, but couldn’t. My arms were securely cuffed. What was going on? Damn this blindfold. Had she really bound me hand and foot to this bed? Why?
“Honey, wha…” I asked, not struggling even slightly.
Would you, in this situation? With your marriage in the balance? Ah, we already established you were smart.
She silenced my protests with a lusty kiss, mashing our lips together. My mind was scrambled – we’d always been a missionary-in-the-dark couple. Aimee didn’t really enjoy anything else. Blowjobs? You must be joking! Sure we could experiment, but she got this horrible worried expression. This blindfold stuff was coming out of nowhere. She’d had a few parcels last week and been full of girlish glee afterward – now I knew what was in them.
“I want to promise you something” she said seriously, pulling back. “I want to promise you you’ll have a great night. If you keep your mouth shut. The only thing you can say is ‘Yes, Aimee.'”
I thought. My penis insisted that there wasn’t any choice at all.
“Yes Aimee.”
If it could have applauded, it would have. It was easily pleased.
Who was this woman? What had changed? Other than the obvious. I’m just a man, and therefore dense as a 2×4, but I knew my wife. She had rules for everything, me, friends, work, but most of all for herself. She’d obviously given herself permission for something. I wished she’d done it earlier. Finally she’d brought her wild personality to bed.
“Right.” she said, and her weight left the bed. What was happening? Where was she going? “Game on.”
What did that mean? I heard something that sounded like a creak and a door opening – I frowned. The bedroom door, right? Maybe I needed to oil it.
It felt like an eternity, there in the blackness, before anything happened.
I heard a drip in the sink. Another.
Oh crap – I had an itch on my nose I couldn’t scratch.
I was trussed up, helpless. People enjoyed this – paid for it? If this is what those sensory deprivation chambers did, then I wasn’t a fan. I was so far outside my comfort zone it wasn’t funny. The only reason I wasn’t hollering the house down was because I trusted Aimee – still do. And I was sorry (even though it wasn’t my fault). So I waited.