My Husband and His Rival by xXaloneXx,xXaloneXx

My Husband And His Rival Bet Who Was The Better Man– And I Won

It was too late to stop now– there was nothing I could do!  Here I was, climaxing on this guy’s dick as he smugly thrust into me– and my husband was right outside the door!  I had been tricked into cheating– and I was loving it!

This isn’t something I wanted, let alone tried to make happen. How did I end up in this here?  Let’s start from the beginning– all the way back, when bikinis had two pieces!  

In college my sorority sisters and I went to a beach themed fraternity party.  We all wore matching white string bikinis with our letters stitched in red on the left cup, strappy heels, and mesh sarongs (which didn’t hide very much.)  The guys came shirtless in lettered trunks and flip flops, and most had whistles (so the girls could blow them, what cornballs!)  Late into the party I spotted a cute guy, but he wasn’t in a frat.  While he was well built and rugged looking, he spent most of his time cloistered in the library, so at this beach he was a fish out of water.  I said hi (I may be in a sorority, but I’m not stuck up!)  We hit it off, we were both econ majors and had a lot in common.  As a freshman he didn’t have a whole lot of experience with these kind of parties, so he was respectful and didn’t try anything with me, which was really nice– and weird!  

But I did have experience with these parties… All around us drunk people were hooking up with willing partners, and by that point I was pretty drunk and pretty willing.  While we were standing around chatting the bartender in red trunks (very cute, and we had been flirting a little earlier!) comes over to us holding two pitchers of beer.

“Could you hold this real quick?” He handed me the full pitchers.

“Ok …” I said surprised, my coordination triply impaired by the beers I drank and the beers I was holding.

As soon as I had them, he leans in, cups my ass and kisses me!  I was so surprised I just went along with it!  I just stood there, high in my heels, a pitcher in each hand, making out with a guy whose name I didn’t even know while people around cheered.  “Woah, okay then!” I said, breaking the kiss.

My poor fish out of water stood there with his mouth hanging open, not sure what he was allowed to feel, but certainly envious.  The bartender slapped him on the back jovially.  “Sorry buddy, house rules, she’s too hot to keep to yourself!”  

He was at a loss for words.  “Um, no problem.”

The bartender didn’t hesitate.  “Well, if you’re ok with it…”  And in a flash we were making out again, this time his hands sliding to my ribs!  I have to admit, he was a good kisser.  

“What do you say we get out of here?” he says, boldly snapping my top from the front.

Cocky bastard, right in front of a guy he probably assumed was my boyfriend!  I handed back the pitchers, “I’m sure there are a lot of other girls who would be happy to have your beer spilled on them.”

He laughed and turned to leave.  “You better keep your girlfriend on a short leash, she’s a wild one!”

My new “boyfriend” tried to be a good sport, but he was a little disoriented.  “It was just a kiss,” I assured him, “it doesn’t really count.”  I made a little sexy pose and winked at him.  “You can’t blame him for trying.”

We spent the rest of the night talking about everything, it was like we were totally in synch with each other.  He even tried to impress me with a card trick, which was dorky, but still totally fooled me!  He was so handsome, and so sweet– was I meeting the perfect guy at a party, of all places?  He seemed to be everything I could ever have asked for in man.  I had to remind myself to take it slow, I didn’t want him to think this was some impulsive fling, like kissing the bartender, that I’d forget tomorrow.  I wanted him to feel what I felt.  I was actually thinking that that night could be the start of a beautiful relationship with a wonderful man.  And I was right.

I had only one regret from that night, and even though it doesn’t have anything to do with him I still feel kinda bad about it.  I was young, tipsy, and– you only live once, okay?  So we’re trying to have a conversation, which was difficult with all the loud music, alcohol and half naked debauchery going on around us.  At one point we heard the sounds of sex coming over the music speakers and I figured someone was playing a porno as a joke, but I realized it was actually two real people somewhere at the party having sex!  The sounds were being played for the amused partiers.  After a minute I could tell the girl knew everyone could hear them, because she was hamming it up, squealing and cooing, talking dirty, telling him how big he was, how hard he was– she was definitely playing the part of the drunk slut for the benefit of her unseen audience.  

It was hard for both of us– well, him– to concentrate on our conversation, especially after I told him she was one of my sorority sisters– which she wasn’t, I just said it to blow his mind.  So with that I excused myself to go to the bathroom, leaving him to enjoy the “bikini beach soundtrack”.  I made my way past drunk and giggly girls and drunk and handsy boys, and past the guy at the top of the stairs who told me that the top floor was now a Caribbean resort and I had to give him my top. I dodged him and went down the hall, opened the door to the bathroom and– oops!

There was the same bartender guy, naked, balls deep in some gorgeous brunette who was perched on the bathroom sink.  She had one long leg over his shoulder and the other wrapped around his pumping ass.  

“Oh–!” I said.

“Doesn’t anybody knock?” she said in mock annoyance, then giggling, her big eyes never averting from his ripped and thrusting body.  Her pink bikini bottoms (the other Alpha sorority, of course!)  untied at both ends, were laying beneath his trunks on the floor.  I assume Caribbean Resort guy had her top because I didn’t see it anywhere.

“I’m so sorry–” I repeated, backing out.  

“It’s ok, sweetie,” she said breathlessly, “you can come in,”

“Yes, sweetie,” mimicked the guy, blatantly looking me over.  Typical guy!  “Don’t mind us,  I’ll just be over here railing this chick.”

So what could I do? I peed, trying not to look at them.  Then– what?  Was I supposed to wash my hands at the sink full of a sorority girl’s ass?

I’m going to say I was drunk, that’s what I’ll say.  I’m not sure if that makes it better or worse.  But I just looked at her, glowing, moaning, lost in what the guy was doing to her.  That could have been me, I thought to myself.  If I had just let myself go with the flow… would that have been so bad?  

She was so open about it, unashamed.  Even proud to be watched, like she was performing.  It was some performance!  I stared openly at them as they showed off for me, each in their own way.  She turned her head upwards towards him and hooked her manicured fingers around his neck, gently pulling him towards her.  She snaked her tongue lustily into his mouth, pulling his ass into her with her supple calf.  She was showing me how she had sex, what it was like to be with her.  It was so feminine, so hot!  He… he spread her thigh open to show me his big dick, and winked.  Such a guy!  I rolled my eyes but smiled.  

“Come here,” she casually offered.

“Oh no,” I laughed, “this is your show.” But I slid up to them anyway.  I slapped Bartender Guy’s butt playfully.  “Come on, stud, fuck her, fuck her so she remembers it.”

“Oh god, yes,” she agreed.

I watched as she moaned, breathed, climaxed.  I don’t know if it was the alcohol, or the effect of watching a man I had just kissed have sex with a woman I felt like I should kiss, but the whole thing just looked so– right.  Two amazingly gorgeous people, stealing away together just to fuck, no pretense, no strings, no games.  What could be wrong about that?

I had a naughty thought.  “Honey?” I said to her as I slinked my hand beneath her ass to cup his heavy balls.  “What’s this guy’s name?”

For an instant she stopped squealing, and then rolled her head back in mock embarrassment.  “Oh my God, I have no idea!”

I smiled at him, sharing his amusement, and felt his dick and balls swell.  “You little slut!”  I teased her.  “Spreading your legs for some guy whose name you don’t even know!”

“I thought he was cute,” she said dreamily looking into his eyes.

“I think your boyfriend is rushing my frat,” he said.

“Oops,” she giggled and sighed at the same time.  “He better not, I know how you guys are around women.”

I stood there, watching him pound her, drive his fat dick upwards into a pussy that didn’t look like it could take it, but boy oh boy could it take it. I wondered how many other women he had fucked like this, and how many other men she had fucked like this.

Wickedly, I leaned in and whispered in her ear while slyly looking into his eyes.  She bit her bottom lip and repeated it.

“Wow, your dick is thick,” she said.  “I don’t think my boyfriend would approve.”

“Fuck,” he agreed.

“I can’t believe you got your dick in me,” she recited. “I’m a very bad girlfriend.”

It didn’t take much.  “I’m going to cum,” he grunted.  Was it to me?  “I’m going to cum in this slut’s tight cunt.”  

“Oh fuck,” we both said.

“I want to see it,” I said excitedly.  “Cum on her, cum all over her!”

“I’m–”

“I want to do it!”  I said, I don’t know what came over me but I grabbed his dick as he unsheathed it.  I jacked it in front of her, aiming it, all three of us staring down at the swollen head as it blasted forceful jets of cum over her spectacular body.

“Take that, you sexy bitch!” I shouted, hosing the horny coed with his semen.  He started growling as he stiffened,  gripping my ass for balance.Some cum shot high and hit her face, tracing down over her lips, and she squealed in surprise and delight.  I continued to stroke him as she made a show of licking it.  Either he hadn’t had sex in a while, which I found impossible to believe, or he was really turned on by all this.  I loved feeling how hard he was in my hand.  I aimed further blasts at her beautiful tits, and she turned her head to look at me doing this to her.  Our eyes met, we were sharing a slo-mo totally ho-mo moment.  Then she rolled her eyes back into her head and came, just from our look.  I felt like it was me cumming on her, and I made more cum land on her ecstatic face.

Finally he was totally spent. “Fuck yeah,” he said, admiring his conquest.

“Fuck yeah,” I agreed, also spent.  He casually grabbed his camera off the counter and I reflexively went into sorority pose mode.  She and I leaned close and air kissed each other.  He’d be quite the stud showing the photo to everyone, a blonde in a string bikini kissing a smiling brunette with cum on her face and tits.  No big deal– just another Friday night!

“Take a cropped one and send it to her boyfriend,” I playfully suggested, popping off my top.

He smirked and took a few lips-down shots: my hand holding his big dick, my tits mashed into her arm, her cum covered body.  “Tease him it’s his girlfriend!  He won’t believe it!”

“You’re so bad!”  she said to me, our lips smiling for the camera.

“I know,” I said, “I can’t help it!”  

I was still holding his now rapidly deflating cock.  He looked utterly drained, poor guy would need a week to recover from this.  “I’ll leave you two to awkward silences!”  I said.  I felt too charged to put the top on immediately.  Clutching it in my hand and covering my tits with my arm, I ran to the door and stepped out, but then turned to face them.  I looked at them and wickedly sucked a finger clean.  Then I shut the door.

I did finally tell my husband about that night.  Well, that’s kind of a lie.  About a year later we were discussing our sexual pasts and I told him this story.  But I pretended like it happened before I met him.  I didn’t really consider it cheating because while they both had orgasms, I didn’t.  That may not sound like a hard line but you got to make one somewhere! I only lied because I didn’t think he’d handle it well if he knew it happened the same night we met.  No doubt he would have compared it to the chaste but hopeful peck on the cheek I gave him before he left,  obsessing on the chaste part and ignoring how much hope was invested in it.  But even thinking the story happened before him made him irrationally jealous, like I was willing to be more sexual with other men than with him.  That wasn’t true.  From a certain perspective I guess it appeared that way, but it was only because those other guys didn’t matter in the same way, and I didn’t matter to them.  It’s hard to explain.

 Anyway, a few years later we were on our honeymoon in the islands, and we were out on a deck, taking in the sun and the sea air.  Of course it was topless and I was a little nervous, but when in Rome…  

My new husband (it felt amazing to say that!) was getting us drinks.  So it was in this relaxed and exposed condition that I felt a strong, masculine hand gently touch my shoulder.  “Hey, Christey.  Love the shades.  Is your agent around?”

I knew who it was the moment I felt the hand: a topless girl will attract a lot of attention, but I didn’t know anyone else who had the balls to just walk up to one and touch her.  So it had to be Jack.  Out here?  What were the odds one of his coworkers would show up on the island?  At this secluded deck near our cabana?

I had met Jack at the various office parties.  I was not at all attracted to Jack, but I couldn’t deny Jack was a complete stud.  I probably shouldn’t say that out loud, but that’s what he was.  Standing in front of me bare chested, abs chiseled, muscles defined from MMA training.  And it was impossible not to notice the freely flopping beer can filling his otherwise baggy shorts, right at my eye level, while I lounged before him wearing nothing but a pink thong and a wedding ring.

Jack had a complicated reputation.  Like my husband, he was a young superstar who climbed quickly to partner; but unlike him, on the way up he had left behind him a trail of sexual devastation.  Receptionists, coworkers, the wives of coworkers– if he wanted he unfailingly bed them.  He was an arrogant bully who treated men like shit and women like sluts, but no man would stand up to him and no woman seemed to want to.  Worse, he was a hugely important part of the company.  Even though many of the men were resentful of him, there was a collective sense that he deserved his success, not to mention “all that pussy” (of course, they didn’t know that included their own wives.)  I guess many of the women quietly thought the same.

His ego finally got him into trouble.  He kept pushing the board to do a takeover of another firm,  both out of a desire to cross the others, with whom he was at odds in other work issues, and also because of the veiled criticisms he made in his speech, but mostly because he wanted a promotion, hoping the takeover would make him a lot of money and earn for himself all the glory.  His ego was already overinflated by being a quasi-celebrity to the lower employees who had only heard about him anecdotally, and this led him to overindulge his tastes beyond what his income would bear, in cars and in the rest of his expenses; and later on this had more than a little to do with the bankruptcy of the company.  Most of the senior managers were alarmed at his ambitiousness, and how much license he took with the job, his life and habits, and… the female employees, and the bulk of them saw him as wanting to make himself CEO and so became his enemies.  And although in his public life his handling of the job was as good as anyone could have ever wanted, in his private life his behavior enraged everyone, and caused them to give promotions to others less able, to the ruin of the company.  Eventually he went to work for their main competitor.  I’m sure he did very well for himself.

Jack was not the kind of guy my husband would have been friends with, but he tacitly respected Jack’s act-on-what-you-want attitude. I don’t know about the boardroom, but as for the bedroom I had often tried to argue that Jack’s success wasn’t something to admire, it required him to be callous and unempathic, oblivious to any resistance or hesitation from the woman.  “You’re not going to understand this,” I said, “but sometimes a woman feels like she has to go along with it.  If it gets to a certain point, she feels obligated to submit.”  I was right, he didn’t understand this.  He thought women could always do what they wanted, which in this case was what Jack wanted.  

But respect wasn’t the only thing that drove my husband to maintain friendly relations.  He got a perverse enjoyment from being around Jack because of me.  My husband knew that Jack saw me as just another of the many trophy wives that would fall into his bed– except that, try as he might, I didn’t.  Sorry, bub, the only man I want I marrying.  That rejection pleased my then fiance so much that he tolerated Jack’s increasingly bold flirtations.  If we were at a party and he saw me talking to Jack he wouldn’t interfere at all, he wouldn’t even glance in our direction; meanwhile Jack took full advantage of our time to ply me with flattery or provoke me with manipulative complements, all of which I parried by reminding him I had a fiance, and right over there, and that there were plenty of other women who would adore his attentions.  Of course, Jack assumed he just needed to get me away from the “giant cock blocker over there….” (yes, I got it!)  

God knows I never would have gone out with him even if I single, his cockiness and smug superiority totally turned me off.  But if you knew how to handle him he could actually be quite fun to be around.  He was undeniably attractive, and I admit I was flattered that the man who was known for bedding beautiful women wanted me.  He was charming and funny, and despite his cockiness was never pushy with me or made me feel uncomfortable.  I found I could let my guard down, even flirt a little (it’s fun!) and he wouldn’t overestimate it.  So I played the part of the curious but honorable fiancee and just as playfully shut him down when it got too hot.  Jack’s ego never suffered, I’m sure.  He was man enough not to take the rejection personally, even if I sometimes meant it personally.  Meanwhile, each time Jack flirted with me, my husband  saw it as another championship match for the trophy wife which he kept winning again and again.  Undefeated– against his single rival.  

Perhaps because my husband never directly confronted him,  Jack even began to tease my husband a little, letting him know that it was only a matter of time before he got me out of my clothes.

I rolled my eyes when I heard his fantastic predictions of my complicit nudity.  And yet now he was standing above me, grinning broadly, while I was topless in a pink thong that served no other purpose than to prove I was naked.  For years he had been eyeing my breasts, and now they were fully displayed for his enjoyment.  What was I supposed to do?  Wouldn’t it have been weirder to cover up?  Thank God I was wearing sunglasses, it made me look way more self-assured than I felt.

Beyond nervous, I stood up and did that thing where you overcompensate pretending to be excited to see a person in a new context.  “Oh my God, Jack, how are you!  When did you get here?”  By reflex I greeted him with an awkward bent-over hug, careful to make sure our hips didn’t touch, but the result was my naked tits swayed against his bare chest.  Oops.  His one hand slid to the small of my back, and then lingered at the edge of my thong.  I quickly lay back in the chaise, but of course not putting on a shirt only made it look like an invitation, which he took.  He perched himself on the edge.

“I had no idea you were here until the desk told me you were on your honeymoon.  Congratulations, I’m sure you’ve made him a very happy man.  Here, let me help you with that.”  He took a nearby bottle of sunscreen and began to rub it into my already glistening, well lotioned calves–  exactly as my husband came out to the deck.  I froze.  What should I do?  I saw his eyes momentarily widen as he tried to process what he was seeing, but he otherwise didn’t react and maintained a poker face as he continued walking casually towards us.  So I nervously did nothing, and passively let Jack continue rubbing my legs.

“Hey, man, congratulations on your wedding,” Jack said as he caressed under my knees.  “Why don’t you leave the drinks here and meet us for dinner later?”

I was so tense I couldn’t help it– a loud laugh escaped me, which he took as assent to sliding his hand further up my inner thighs.  I sat upright and crossed my legs, ending his recklessness.

Nevertheless, Jack stayed put on my chaise.  We all began chatting, awkwardly at first, my husband tried to seem cool but I knew he was tense, he had a pack of cards that he was fiddling with in his hands, hoping to seem nonchalant but also to break the tension.  But it was Jack who made it all very light and smooth, and soon we fell into easy conversation, talking and drinking.  He even asked to see a card trick!  Truth is, Jack hadn’t really done anything wrong, rubbing my calves was typical Jack, and its very brazenness proved it was meaningless.  He was just fun to be around, easy going and friendly.  Periodically of course he dropped flirty innuendos, commented on my spectacular “boob job” (as if he was fooled– ha), and even managed to get me (after my eyes rolled) to let him rub lotion on my back as if it was the most normal thing in the world.  And my husband seemed ok with everything, too, no secret signals, no signs of discomfort beyond the card twirling.  They were both having a good time, and it was fun for me to be the center of attention.  So I relaxed.  Topless.  On a chaise lounge between my hunky husband and his studly rival.  

Whew.  He did give nice back rubs, though.  

At some point Jack left to get us more drinks, and all at once my husband’s coAt some point Jack left to get us more drinks, and all at once my husband’s cool demeanor completely imploded.  It was so forceful and abrupt that I reflexively threw on a tank top and raised my sunglasses to my head.

“He’d kill to fuck you,” he told me urgently.

“He’s not going to,” I said, sobering up quickly.  “I have no desire to be with any other man, let alone him.”

“I don’t think he thinks that.”

“Would you like me to tell him?”

He thought about this for a moment.  “No, because he wouldn’t believe you.  He thinks he just needs to get you away from me.”

I laughed.  “You want me to seduce him into the hot tub and turn him down there?”

“No…” he said in a way that made me think he was considering it.  “The key is to lead him on into a situation where there is no way I could catch you, and then shut him down.  Let him know I beat you.”

“How you think,” I rolled my eyes.  “Do you run a business this way?”

“Do something really sexy, I don’t know, flirt, show him your tits.”

“He’s already seen my tits,” I reminded him, tugging my tank top down.  Where the hell did I ever get it?  It was my old sorority crop top, cut obscenely high so that it barely covered my breasts, and right below the logo was written in squintingly tiny letters, “take a picture, you’ll last longer.”  My dorky husband thought it was hilarious.  Did wearing it make me look more covered or less?

“Show him your ass then, I don’t know.”

“Oh my god, what am I to you, shark bait?”

“Just drive him crazy, do something.”

“So you want me to be a cock please,” I said.

“Tease,” he smirked.

“Oops,” I said.  “Sorry– tease.”

“Can you do it?”

I smirked back and gestured to my body.  “Umm, yeah, I’m pretty sure I can do it.  I just don’t think I should do it.”

My husband was nuts. Work parties are one thing, but I couldn’t believe he was letting this cocky alpha male anywhere near his intoxicated and basically naked wife, let alone asking me to inflame him.  What did he think would happen?

Jack returned with the drinks, and there was no way I couldn’t glance at the beer can in his shorts swinging as he walked. The big dick had a big  dick.  Urf.  I lowered my sunglasses and lay back on the chaise, and was about to take off my top again when I realized that it would look like I had covered up when alone with my husband, and was now going to re-present myself to Jack.  Oh God, they were making me as nuts as they were, these two horny mountain goats were getting high on their own pheromones and I was getting it from both ends, so I resolved to just be myself, act naturally, keep my own limits and have a little fun, and let them lock horns and misinterpret my behavior any way they needed to.  If my husband wanted me to stop or do something different, all he had to do was just say so.

Jack studied the shirt for a moment, then looked into my glasses.  “Pig,” I mouthed.

Alcohol and innuendo continued, and I have to admit that all the attention I was getting was making me giddy.  I know this won’t make sense to a man, but that jump from being single to being married made me feel more free, not less.  Marriage made it possible for me to enjoy desires without the pressure to pursue them or the guilt that I didn’t.  It made it safer to flirt because there was a line around you, and anything outside was inconsequential when before I’d have to figure out what I wanted, my feelings about it, weighing the consequences of acting on it against the risks of a missed opportunity.  If I had been topless in front of Jack back when I was dating, I would have been just as  mortified and just as turned on as I was now, but too mixed up inside to enjoy it.  And while I never would have pursued him I admit I would have been way easier to seduce.  But married, on my honeymoon?  I was a queen guarded by a king, playing with… jacks.

 And so with my new husband right there beside me, I even felt safe enough to enjoy being provocative.  I had placed my drink on the table slightly behind me so that I had to twist my body to reach it, causing the shirt to stretch and expose the bottom of my breasts.  Of course I was aware.  Both boys noticed, and both guys knew the other noticed.  Oh boy.  I was drunk,  I was tingling.  Everyone’s attention was on me, it felt electric, it made me feel so sexy, so desired, so charged.

And that’s when my seemingly laid back, likely drunk, and evidently dumb husband suggested we… play poker.  Uh oh, I know I’ve seen this movie before.  Good thing I put the shirt on.

I’m sure in his head he thought it was a good way taunt Jack, to show me off and show him up, frustrating and humiliating him, but Dummy hadn’t thought through how that scene would play out. So when he proudly won the first hand, he suddenly went silent,  realizing he had to command me to take my top off in front of his coworker and–

“I know you want me to undress in front of your wife,” gloated Jack, “but you’ll  have to say please.  Or do you want us to undress each other?”

Yeah.  He’s a dummy.  Thinking fast, he instead “demanded” I give him a lap dance while Jack had to sit and watch.  “Oh my God,” I laughed  “You’re such a dork!  Are we in college?”  But I wanted to dance, I had to get the erotic energy out of me and dancing was a safe way to discharge it.  I got up, moving my hips and shoulders to a beat I hummed out loud.  I had a lot of practice dancing; minimal movements was all I needed for maximum effect and plausible deniability.  At one point I sat in my husband’s lap facing Jack and blew him an innocent kiss.  He responded by discreetly but deliberately adjusting his giant penis inside his trunks.  “Bad boy,” I mouthed to him.

Dummy’s improvised reward brought about the obvious.  The next hand went to Jack, and of course he wanted a dance with the newlywed.  I got up and moved towards him with completely fake confidence.  “You guys better hope I don’t win any hands.”

 Overcompensating for my anxiety, I danced around him, stroked his hair and then his chest (sexy!)  Fortunately, even this arrogant prick had the sense not to try anything too crazy in front of my husband, and I was still wearing the tank, which gave me a little more freedom to tease him.

I tried to safely straddle his lap facing him, but as I grinded on him his dick was impossible to avoid.  I tried to avoid it… honest!  But it was so prominent that even with his shorts on, playful writhing on his lap became subtly rubbing my pussy along his pole.  My hands were on the back of his chair, my tank covered chest (thank god!) pushed forward into his face, my nipples confessing my arousal through the white material.

“Take off your top,” he whispered in my ear.  “I want to feel you.”

“I’m maaaaarrrried,” I teased, exaggeratedly slurring my words.  “My husband would not like that.”

“If he loved you, he’d want you to enjoy yourself.”

“Yes,” I said leaning into his ear, “but I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t want you to enjoy yourself.”  

“What does he want?” Dummy said proudly.

“He wants,” I said, looking at Jack stare into my mirrored sunglasses, “to see my tits.”  I giggled.

“He’s seen them.”  Ok, true, but he wasn’t supposed to say it out loud!  I felt myself flush.  “Show him your ass.”

I caught a flash of my new wedding ring, with all its magic powers.  I spun around and sat facing away from Jack, pushing my ass against his crotch.  He slapped it playfully.  “Any tan lines?” he asked.  Without waiting for an answer, he tugged on the side of my strap to reveal the light arc that traced over my hips and… down.

“Hey, now,” I cautioned, in what probably sounded like assent.

“Are you a natural blonde?” he asked, covertly speaking into the back of my neck. My husband sat across us smiling, gloating over the frustration Jack must have felt.

“No,” I admitted.  

“I should check,” he said.  

I turned my head and bit my bottom lip.  “There’s nothing to check,” I slurred.

Of course he checked anyway, pulling up the straps like a puppeteer.  “You’re bad,” I whispered.

 Of course Jack had been around enough women to know my dance was intended as fun, meaningless teasing– of both of men– and he played along.  He put his hands on my sides and daringly slid them slowly upwards.  His hands felt so good, no man since my husband had touched me there, like that.  I was nervous and excited, pretending like I was enjoying it while hiding how much I was really enjoying it.  And Jack knew just how to playfully push the envelope.  He began to slide his hands higher… and forwards… deliberately provoking the expected response: I slapped his hands away, giggling. “Hey, no touching,” I pretended to whisper,  “you know my husband is right there, right?”

“That guy?”  he said loudly.  “You think he’s going to do anything?”

And then he started to go for it.  He let me know that he was going for it, making me self-conscious of the fact that neither I nor my husband was stopping him.  He slid his hands slowly up under my shirt.  I had been topless before, but this was different– he was touching me, touching my bare flesh while I was covered to my husband, the significance of the action impossible to ignore.  Our touch had become private.  He was taking possession of me.  I waited to see how my husband would react: would he jump up?  Stop this?  Give me a signal, anything?  But he did nothing!  He just watched Jack’s hands under the shirt.  I tried to hide how turned on I was, but it was hard.  Hard for me… I had even forgotten what I was sitting on…  My breathing became ragged and my heart was pounding right through my breasts, I know Jack could feel it.  I was so mixed up with anxiety and arousal I was trembling.  Jack’s hands slid all the way forward, cupping and massaging my breasts, and then his fingers finally reached my nipples.

I came.

“Oh!”  I didn’t mean to, it surprised me, and I really tried not to show it. My back stiffened as I tried to resist its arching.  My hands gripped his through the shirt.  My hips drove downwards even as my weight shifted to my toes.  My mouth fell open but I stifled the moan with a long breath, oh god please don’t let him notice; yet through my sunglasses my taunting eyes screamed at my husband: look what he’s doing to me!  But he was so focused on what Jack’s hands were doing to my breasts that he didn’t appreciate what Jack was doing to the rest of me, how easy it was for him to do it to me.  Jack, of course, knew exactly what he was doing to me.

“Nice,” he whispered, very pleased with himself, politely letting me ride out my orgasm.  His hands remained on my swollen tits.

“Oh my,” I said finally, preposterously playing it off like I didn’t just have a massive orgasm in his lap.  I looked at my still oblivious husband, feigning an amused shock while trying to reset my hormones.  “Are you just going to sit there and let this very naughty man maul your wife’s tits?”

He eyed me suspiciously but said nothing.

I heard Jack chuckle.  “Told you.”  He pulled my shirt completely off, tossing it at my husband, hitting him in the face.  I couldn’t help it– I giggled.

His eyes widened, but he forced a smile and took up the shirt. Jack kept up his gentle assault of my now full displayed breasts.  Oh God.  I was both terrified and– turned on.  Was he too drunk or not drunk enough to stop this?  

“Your wife’s tits are real,” Jack informed him.  He weighed them from behind, gently pulling my body back to lay on his chest.  His hands looked so masculine and powerful on my swollen boobs that I moaned out loud just from the visual.  My husband no doubt thought I was just acting the part of strip club dancer, but I was so aroused that I felt like I would come again from the craziness of what was happening.  Under the sunglasses I closed my eyes to block it out, and lay my head back on Jack’s shoulder, pretending to be faking enjoying it.  He kissed my neck.

I know a lot of people would be horrified that I let another man touch me like that,  right in front of my husband, but you have to believe me that I never would have done it except that my husband was right in front of me.  Of course he was shocked, maybe a little jealous, maybe turned on, who knows?  But he had all the power, he could stop it any time he wanted.  I felt safe and protected because I had placed myself totally in his hands (well, Jack’s hands, too!)

“No one at the office is going to believe they’re real,” Jack taunted.

The mention of the others hearing about any of this craziness should have made me ashamed, but instead it aroused my naughty side.  What’s it to me, my drunk brain asked?  They’ll just be jealous of my husband, and isn’t that what he wanted all along?  I moaned into Jack’s ear (maybe I gave it a little kiss!) as he pulled my nipples towards the hot sun.  Arf.  My husband started this.  I snaked my one hand in front of Jack’s neck and up through his hair, and shot my husband a sneaky wink to let him know I was still just pretending and totally in control.  I guess I forgot that he couldn’t see my eyes through the sunglasses.

In retrospect, I get now that the thought of his coworkers drooling over the story– or being jealous of the wrong man– or my expression, my sounds, the way I sat– lay– writhed– on Jack as his hands traveled my body, it may have finally been too much for my poor hubby.  “All right, you two,” he said laughingly, “break it up before I have to remarry.”

“No, baby,” I said, thinking it was all part of the teasing, “I love you,  being your wife is so much fun.”

“I’m sure security would agree.”

Of course I wasn’t going to go any further, but I couldn’t resist the  banter.  “Ooh, are we on camera?” I said in my best dumb blonde voice, biting my lip.  “Does this look cute?”  I leaned into Jack’s face, our lips grazing each other’s.

“Come on, I’ve been a good sport, but fun time with the bride is over.”

“No, not yet,” I said smiling into Jack’s face.  “He still has to remove my garter.”  

“Just a gentle tug…”  Jack playfully snapped my thong.

“All right, let go of my wife,” he said, “this is bordering on disrespectful.”

“Oh, relax,” said Jack, “it’s not all about you.  You don’t have to prove your dick is bigger by being all bossy.”  

“Yeah,” I teased vampishly as my lips brushed Jack’s, “I can figure out whose dick is bigger on my own.”  I stuck my tongue out and licked his lips.

Jack’s hands slid under the straps and took hold of my hip bones, directing my pelvis.  I hooked one arm behind Jack’s head while I nibbled the fingernail of the other hand, turning to look deep into my husband’s eyes.  I was going to call his bluff.  “Baby?” I said sweetly, his frozen stare trying to see into my thoughts– thank god for my sunglasses– “would you come over here and slip off my thong?  I’m afraid this very bad man might rip it.”

He stopped breathing.  “I said that’s enough!”  His voice cracked like a teenager’s.  I thought it had all been teasing fun, but clearly I had better control of Jack than my husband did of himself.  I raised my body up and slinked off Jack’s lap, trying to make it look natural.  Well, that was something!  I stood up, fluffed my hair and adjusted my thong, playing like I was totally in control.  I took the shirt back, but rather than putting it on, I used it to dab the sweat off my breasts, then tossed it playfully at Jack.  Oh, well, now he had a little trophy.

Knowing he must have come off looking insecure, my husband tried to laugh it off and overcompensated by dealing the cards.  “Come on, a few more hands and then I guess we better jet.”  Jet?  Since when did he talk like that?  And a few more hands?  It only took two hands to get me to orgasm.  “Next hand, if I win, I get two of your accounts, my choice.”

Jack laughed.  “That’s some bet, what’s the other side?”Jack laughed.  “That’s some bet, what’s the other side?”

“If you win, you get two of mine.”

“I’m going to get them anyway, I don’t need win them in poker.”  He looked like he had a sudden inspiration. “How about a blowjob?  Relax, I mean from Christey.”  He winked at me.

Even my husband laughed.  “In your wildest dreams.”

“She’s going to give me one anyway,” Jack said, “this way you can pretend she had no choice.”

My husband didn’t even pause.  “Deal.”

What?! I started to blurt out a protest, but something told me not to break character, and so my involuntary “no!” turned into an “oh!” I can’t imagine how that sounded to the boys.  My husband had me set up as some kind of party chick who was down for anything, and so far I had what he wanted, and more.  A sexy lap dance, second base, ok– and never mind I would never do it, but he wasn’t actually risking me blowing his rival, was he?  

“I know Christey is down for it,” Jack said smiling at me, “but how do I know you won’t turn into a homicidal maniac?”

My husband spread out his arms.  “Come on, I’m a man, I know the rules: bros before hoes!”  

I couldn’t help myself– I laughed out loud.  I was no ho, but I was way more of a ho than he was a bro!

“You’re on, bro!” said Jack, seeing no protest from me.  I twirled my hair and smiled like a dumb blonde, trying to appear relaxed, compliant and willing to play.  WTF?  A blowjob?  

Jack shuffled the deck, but I took it from him. “I’ll deal,” I said, laughing, “I don’t trust either of you two.”  I wasn’t sure why I said that.  But what poor old Jack didn’t know was that this wasn’t my first game of strip poker with horny guys, I had learned a thing or two about trick dealing in college.  Sorry, mister, you can have a lap dance, even paw my tits, but I no way am I going to blow you!  So with nimble fingers I let Jack come out with three Queens but my husband was about to win with a flush.

Imagine my surprise when instead of the flush he turned over… three Jacks!  How had that happened?  It was impossible!  I know I didn’t mess up!  Did I mess up?

“On your knees, baby,” Jack said laughing, “let’s see if practice made perfect!”

I froze, my dumb smile locked on my face.  My husband stared blankly at the cards.  As if he couldn’t believe it either…  

“Come on,” Jack said.  He was milking it, but obviously joking with no intention of collecting.  “Let’s put my money where your mouth is!”

“Wait a second,” my dumbfounded husband said, still looking at the cards.  “Hold on.  You cheated…”

“How could I cheat, I wasn’t even dealing!”  

“You must have hidden a card…”

“Where, under my dick?” he said laughing.  I had a sudden image of me on my knees finding his heavy slab of cock easily securing a winning hand against his balls. He winked at me, having so much fun torturing my poor husband.

“Wait a second…”

“Come on, dude,” Jack said.  “You proposed the bet, not me.  Didn’t hear her complain, either.  I won her fair and square.  If you want to go back on your debt, well, that’s your choice, but you did say you would be a man.”  He sat there, grinning like a big dicked frat boy.  I sat there, smiling like a blonde sorority girl.

What I didn’t know then was that my husband had also cheated– he had 3 Jacks pulled out of the deck already.  But it made no sense, he knew I was good at trick dealing.  Unless… was he actually afraid I might make Jack win?  

“No way, wait,” he insisted, maybe a little too aggressively.  “She’s not going through with it.”

“I’m not going to force her,” sending me another quick wink,  “she isn’t going to do anything she doesn’t choose to do, right, Christey?”  I smiled nonchalantly, terrified– electrified.  “But she seems into it.”

On the inside I was a vortex of conflicted feelings,  but I was also very self-conscious of how I looked on the outside.  How obscenely I was un-dressed.  Perched felinely at the edge of the chair, sunglasses turning my apprehension into coy passivity, stomach muscles taut from anxiety resulting in centerfold perfect posture; topless, swollen breasts proudly displayed and on offer.  I felt like my entire body looked horny.  And– whether it was the atmosphere, or the alcohol, or the heightened energy of two men fighting over me, instead of getting frightened I was getting really, really turned on.  It was insane, but at that moment I wanted them to physically fight over me like gorillas, naked gorillas, the winner tossing me down on the chaise, tearing off my little thong and fucking his prize, either my husband with his jealousy enraged dick or Jack with has arrogantly triumphant cock— oh God, think about baseball!  

But this was no fantasy, it was real, but real like I was watching a movie.  To my amazement, my husband stood up and squared off against Jack, who rolled his eyes.  “Seriously, you want to fight me?”  

t was now evident just how drunk he was and how drunk Jack wasn’t.  My husband lunged forward, took a swing, stumbled, and grabbed an  umbrella pole for balance.  Oh my God!  The pole fell and struck Jack square in the face, but he didn’t even flinch– he laughed!  

“That all you got?” straightening himself up.  “Here’s what’s going to happen.  After I lay you out,  I’m going to take that gorgeous wife of yours and watch her try and suck my dick.  And then I’m going cum all over her fat tits, and she’s going to love it.  Then she’ll pose for a few pictures, which I’ll send you.  Eventually.”

He lunged at Jack again, drunkenly and clumsily.  Jack gave him a single jab to the face and he fell onto a chair, knocked out cold!

“Man,” said Jack out loud to no one, almost surprised.  “That was too easy.  And I have to admit, a little wrong.”

He shrugged, offered me his hand, and gently pulled me up from the chaise.  I was in shock.  He guided me into his arms, took my sunglasses off and tossed them next to my husband.  He put his hands on my waist and traced upwards, his fingers sliding into the grooves between my ribs.  Wait, had he been joking about being serious, or–?  Frozen, I just stood there, mouth hanging open.  He leaned in slowly and kissed it.  I closed my eyes and reflexively kissed him back.  I wasn’t even thinking.  I didn’t know what was happening.  “Umm…” I said, breaking the kiss and looking over at my husband lying on the chaise, “is he going to be all right?”

“He’ll be fine,” he said, “I barely touched him, it was more the alcohol than the anything else.”

“Shouldn’t we do something for him?”

“We should settle his debt.”  He leaned in for a kiss.  

Ha!  Topless, in a thong, as if the proper etiquette after beating up my husband was to give myself to his rival!

I swear it was out of habit, it wasn’t about Jack, it was context, my hands just did what they… naturally… did in those situations.  Reflex, muscle memory, as we kissed my eyes closed and my hands went gently to his abs, hips, and then down that crease towards his…  I felt a movement, and opened my eyes to see he was undoing his shorts.  Oh my God!  They fell away.  He was naked, big dick now fully erect before me.  He pulled me closer to him.

“What are you doing!” I asked, half jokingly, half honestly,  still in shock, eyes drawn down to a dick that came almost up to my tits.  “My husband that you knocked out is right there!”

“So?  A deal’s a deal, this is America.  Kind of.”  He touched my arm and I just stood there, compliant.  The way he was caressing my arm made me not think about pulling away from him.  The way his dick grazed my belly made me think about pulling closer to him.  “Your body is spectacular,” he said admiringly.  “One guy couldn’t possibly be enough for you.”  Taking my lack of resistance as an invitation, he hooked a finger into the front of my thong and pulled me up against him.

“Fuck you, get off me,” I told him, partially coming to my senses.  But not pushing him away.

“What’s wrong?” he said, gently holding me in his powerful arms.

“I don’t like you,” I managed.

“That’s fine with me.”  He had started caressing my back, lightly, my breasts smashed up against his chest and his lips hovered over my ears.  I weakly tried to push him off, but he grabbed my wrists and with one hand pinned them over my head against the wall.  His other hand slid behind my neck, and we kissed again.  He tasted like lust.

“Fuck you!” I whispered, pushing his tongue out of my mouth with my tongue.

Then he kissed my neck.  I let him.  I don’t know why.  I hated this guy, I hated how he had treated my husband, how he treated women, his arrogance– and how much it was turning me on.

He kissed my neck, then slowly turned me sideways to kiss my hips.  One hand on my breast, the other on my ass, his lips making their way to my shoulders.  “Your curves are so sexy,” he said, dragging his lips back up towards the back of my neck, inhaling deeply as he kissed.  “I love your smell, everything about you is making me crazy for you.”

He turned me facing the wall and slid down towards my ass, kissing and gnawing on it.  I arched my back involuntarily, facilitating his control of my ass.  “I don’t think any guy could handle you the way you need to be handled.”

As he devoured my body, my mind drifted to all the women he had seduced. Right now he wanted me, he was hungry for me. I had some power.  I spun around.  I took Jack’s head and gave him a deep and passionate kiss.  Then I would push him off me and get the hell out of there.

“I love how receptive your body is,” he said.

“You just like my big tits,” I said mischievously.

“It’s so sexy, it needs to be touched more.”

Smug bastard, did he think that would work on me?  I tried– I wanted to try– to stop kissing him.  Boy did he know how to kiss me.  Meanwhile, his hands kept moving, roaming, touching… why was I still here? Ok, I told myself, this was still harmless.  I hadn’t wanted it.  I ended up in this situation, but it wasn’t out of hand.  I hadn’t cheated yet, and I could stop it at any time… why not… just… kiss… a few moments more?  

Jack’s hand went to my thong. Uh uh, I laughingly moved it back up to my nipple.  He could do whatever he wanted with my tits, but the thong stayed on, that would be the limit.

Even though I didn’t like him as a person, our slow exploration of each other was making me want  him.  And it felt so hot to kiss this jerk, to give my body to a man I didn’t like but still wanted.

I had a pang of guilt when I caught a glimpse of my husband laying there.  Here I was, practically naked, in the arms of another man. Bad enough I was doing this, but I was doing it with my husband’s rival, a guy he hated, a guy he felt insecure about, and a guy who outplayed him and outmuscled him.  The thought that this man could take another man’s woman made me flush.  Urf.  I knew I wasn’t a prize to be passed around… but it was so hot imagining myself as one.  Oh God, I was revving myself up!

Jack must have been reading my mind, or my body, because instead of trying to take my thong off, he tugged it slightly outwards, and I actually watched as he purposefully slipped his long, thick cock up through it, so it poked obscenely out the top while the shaft found a welcoming groove against my unprotected pussy.

“I can’t believe how sexy you are,” he said.  “Naked is definitely your best look.”

“Fuck,” was all I could say.  He kissed me like this, his strong arms pinning my shoulder blades back and forcing my tits outwards into him.  Fuck.  I’m in trouble.

I should have stopped it. I should have told him to back off.  Somehow I convinced myself that my thong being on– even if he was using it to secure his dick against my pussy– made up for how slutty I was acting.  His head went to a breast and I pulled him closer to it.  Oh god, I hate this guy, and I’m letting him suck my tits.  What kind of a woman am I?  I tried to drag my pussy lips along his shaft without letting him notice.  How could he not notice? I was the one who was trying not to notice.  This was so wrong, so hot.  I have to stop this, soon.

He pulled back a little, his unyielding cock tugging the thong outwards.  Wow.  Not only was this wrong, it looked really wrong.  Giving in to a reckless passionate moment was one thing, but now he was just posing us, forcing me to observe how perfect our bodies looked together.

I looked down at the erection that had plowed through so many other beautiful women, under the noses or over the objections of their boyfriends or husbands.  “You think I’m that easy?” I said in response to a question he hadn’t even asked.

He laughed almost humbly.  “Would you mind pretending you are?”

Umf.  

“You know what I want?” he said, tracing a nipple.  Yeah.  I’m pretty sure I did.  My left hand drifted to his cock jutting up past my thong, my fingers holding the bulbous head like a delicate egg I should not squeeze.  I am not going to cheat on my husband, I thought, as I looked at my engagement ring flush against… Wow.  I needed distance, I needed to get this arrogant prick away from my body.

“Someone should photograph us,” he said, leaning back, admiring how our bodies fit together.  “Where would you put your thighs while I worked my dick into you?”

I tried not to think of an answer, but I couldn’t not think of lots of answers.  

I looked in his face.  He leered at me.  To him I was just another blonde bimbo whose promiscuous pussy would soon be climaxing on his careless cock, smirking at my shameless and sinful squeals.  I hated this jerk.  I wanted to taste his cum.  Oh god, what was the matter with me?  I started making crazy deals with myself: ok, I had to suck him off, that had been the deal, but then I’d be free.  And he wouldn’t be touching me anymore, I’d be in control.  A blowjob wasn’t so bad, far less intimate than sex.  My poor husband.  This was like a porno fantasy, some imaginary hotwife overwhelmed by lust for the alpha male, and here I was about to give this fantasy to someone else. I was supercharged, but I didn’t want Jack to know that, I didn’t want him to have that satisfaction.  I wanted to punish this guy, give him just a taste of the kind of sex my husband got that I would deprive Jack of.  It was worth giving Jack a few cheap feels so it would hurt more when I showed him I had been in control and I wouldn’t let him have me.  

His eyes devoured me, his cock pressed up against my pussy, his hands weighed my swollen  tits as his thumbs and fingers rubbed my nipples.  His tongue and lips worshiped my body everywhere, mixing our scents, mixing our tastes.  Meanwhile I leaned back against the door frame and in between kisses casually stroked my hand up and down his big cock.  

I was looking for reasons to give a blowjob to my husband’s rival.

Fuck.

I stepped back.  I took the straps of my thong and daintily pulled the ties.  Arrogant prick.  Pay attention, it’s never going to be this good for you again.  I let the thong fall away, fluffed my hair and then ran my hands along his chest with a little sway of my hips.  I stepped my now naked body up to him with all the confidence of a professional seductress, my pussy’s heat directly warming his balls.  I gave him the lustiest kiss I could manage, spreading my legs apart, dangerously daring his cock head to penetrate me.  And even then I wasn’t sure… I know it sounds crazy, but even at that point I didn’t know what I was going to do.  I really believed I could stop at any moment, yet I also felt  this guy had me completely in his power.  Sucking him off was no longer his reward, it was my only escape.  I know my husband wouldn’t understand how I could give a blowjob to a man I didn’t like… in order to deprive him.  How I could want it and not want it at the same time.  How I could hate a man and still want to make him cum all over me.  How I could want to make him cum because I hated him. “It takes two to tango,” he’d insist.  But sometimes the best dances are with partners you don’t like, right?

Jack gently but assertively pushed me down to my knees, as if he was entitled to use me for his lust.  But I was tipsy, naked, and horny–  I was headed down there anyway.  At that moment I knew I had no choice but to give him the most spectacular blowjob I could perform.  I looked over at my defeated husband.  Making sure Jack was watching me, I pulled his shaft to the outside of my cheek and simultaneously blew my sleeping husband a kiss.  “Sorry honey, but it’s no big deal.  Jack’s been blown by a lot of other wives.  I know you’d want him to think your wife was the best at it.”  I sucked the head.  “Besides,” I said sweetly.  “He did win the bet.  You wouldn’t want him to tell people you don’t pay your debts, would you?”  

Jack looked down at me tonguing his shaft.  “Either your husband is the luckiest guy in the world, or I am.”

I sat back on my thighs and spread my legs open so Jack could see every inch of the sexy body he was never going to have.

“Well, he did say we should always pay our debts.”

“Fuck, you are amazingly hot,” he said.

“I know,” I responded.  I squeezed my own tits, partly for show but also because they were tingling.  Oh, god, I was so turned on by this.  My body and my mind were completely at odds.

He gloated, at ease, casually placing his hands up in the door frame and spreading his legs slightly, the light from behind him framing his spectacular body.  His erection was rock hard, and I felt so proud, I felt so– fucking hot.  It was like watching a movie of us, and I suddenly had the crazy thought that since I was so hot it was my obligation to pleasure him.  I had no doubt this arrogant stud thought the same.

I had never sucked a cock that big, there was no way I could take it all, but I didn’t want him to know that.  I placed my lips around the shaft, like a harmonica, and dragged my mouth up and down its length, snaking my tongue over and under it.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” he said, nudging me towards the response.

“With tits like mine?” I said smiling up at him.  “I’ve had lots of practice”

He smirked. “I figured, a body like yours gets a lot of attention.”

I ran my lips over the bulbous head of his dick, popping on it.

“Don’t I deserve it?” I said trying to match his cockiness.  He didn’t just have me blowing him, he had me performing for him.  

“You sexy bitch, you know that every time I’m around your husband I’m going to think of his slutty wife on her knees with her lips around my dick?”

Who the fuck did this guy think he was that he could call me names?  Yet here I was, on my knees, one hand on his huge dick and the other on my tits, my own thighs spread open in lewd display– and also to prevent myself from squeezing them towards an orgasm.  No way was I going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he made me orgasm just from sucking his dick!  I had come this far, so I’d give him a blowjob that he’d remember forever, and then leave him wanting more.  He would never get to watch me riding him.  He’d have to imagine my clit grinding onto his pelvis as he thrust upwards into me.  He’d never know what it sounded like to have his balls slap against my ass as he plowed roughly into me from behind.  He would only get to fantasize about what it looked like when I climaxed helplessly over and over as he pinned me on my back and repeatedly slammed his magnificent dick in and out of me.  Oh god, what was I doing?  I was fantasizing about fucking him while I was blowing him to prevent him from fucking me!

“You’re such a sexy whore, sucking my big dick,” he said.

“Awww,” I giggled, “anyone who sucks your dick is a whore, or only whores ever suck your dick?”

His dick flexed.  “Fuck,” he said.

“Fuck,” I agreed.  His body was so masculine, his cock thick and hard, and right now he wanted me– and while I was pretending to be aroused by sucking him, I was very much aroused by sucking him.  The worst part was that even though I knew I’d stop after the blowjob, part of me wanted him to win, to see through my little game and just dominate me, throw me on the bed and fuck the ambivalence out of me.  But I couldn’t allow that to happen.  For my poor husband’s sake, I had to make this stud cum hard.

I lovingly tongued the leaking tip of his perfect dick.  I looked up at him with innocent eyes.  “You know I hate you, right?”

“I can tell,” he said, watching me make love to his shaft.

“But I have to admit you have a beautiful cock.”  It looked even bigger, pulsing, oozing with his  precum.  He was so close.  “How does it look between my lips?”

“Spectacular,” he groaned.  Really close.

“But I’m only doing this,” I said, in between french kissing his cock head, “to show you how you couldn’t even fuck me.”  Cum for me, you thick dicked bastard, cum.

He laughed and groaned at the same time.  “What makes you think I’m not going to fuck you?” his dick swelling suddenly, balls rising, as he tried in vain to hold back.

“Because,” I said, looking up at him, licking his shaft from balls to tip and finally bringing him off, “I’m going to make you cum all over my face.”

Our eyes locked– mine sparkling and innocent, his glazing over, and then he came.  Wow!  He slipped one hand to the back of my head to keep me from moving, but I wasn’t going anywhere,  I was committed.  I took most of the whole shaft in my mouth, swallowing eagerly.  With each burst I dragged slowly back and forth, tickling the shaft with my tongue as I pulled slowly back to the tip.  He was cumming hard, and I felt pulses of pride at how easily I had made him lose control.

“Swallow it, you cheating slut,” he growled.

I giggled out loud and to myself.  He could call me any kind of names, but I had all the power.  I gazed up at him as he moaned, gloating over his vulnerability.  His ass clenched repeatedly as I drained him into my victorious mouth.  I let out a gleeful squeal  to let him know that I was having fun with my toy cock, I was in control of it.  I pulled back to the head and lightly traced my fingers on the underside of his still spurting cock and heavy balls, swallowing lustily.  “Mmmmmm,”  I cooed, as my other hand snaked between his legs and held his ass.  I’d give this jerk something to remember.

My poor husband, he would die if he saw me on my knees like this, eagerly taking this jerk’s cum, draining him, gloating through my squeals– even if it was all for show.

“Fuck yeah, you slut,” Jack groaned through his orgasm, “Your husband would be so proud.”  His enraged dick blasted cum into me to reinforce his point.  I part chuckled, part moaned.  He was right, on some level he would have been proud.  Here I was, acting like a big titted bimbo, doing exactly what guys always fantasized about– but I was doing it with another man he didn’t like.  And I was loving it.

I swallowed every drop.  When he finished I let him watch me trace the drooling cock-tip on my mouth like lip gloss.  I puckered my lips and kissed it. Then I stood up, my hands raised daintily, shoulders back and tits thrust forward.  

“You are an amazing, beautiful, and very naughty, girl,” he said admiringly.

I slowly, pointlessly, dabbed my juicy lips with the back of my hand, and said innocently,  “did I do something bad?”

“Look at your sexy body.”  He put his hand in the small of my back and pulled my curves into him, and we gazed into the mirror.  It did look… hot.  His hard masculine body towering behind me, and my hand– my engagement ring– resting on his muscular chest.  He saw me looking at it and smiled, relishing in the fact that yet again he had taken another man’s wife.  

“Fuck,” he said. “Someone should photograph this.”

Before I could stop him, he stretched out his hand and snap– he had a picture of himself holding a trophy of his conquest, a picture of another tipsy blonde he had seduced away from her husband and corrupted at the end of his dick.  I was simultaneously horrified– and aroused–

“Don’t you dare–!”

And then I realized he was holding my camera!

“You could always delete it,”  he said with enraging confidence.  He knew I couldn’t, how could I?  No matter how dangerous it was to keep it I could never bring myself to delete it.  “Show it to your girlfriends, they’ll be jealous of you,” he suggested.  I looked at the picture as he ran his hands along my ribs. I tried to see it objectively.  It was porno hot.  Fuck, why did it have to look so perfect with this jerk?

He pointed the camera again.  “Let’s take a cropped one to send to your husband… you can tease him that it’s you and me.”

“You are so bad!” I said, obligingly posing.

“You could say no,” he said, and took the picture.

“He’d never believe it’s me,” I said. “But it’ll blow his mind if we pretend it is.”  Oh!  What had come over me!

“It’s not enough that you’ll be thinking of me when you have sex, now you want him to think of me?”  

So full of himself!  I turned to look at his his now spent dick, and lightly rubbed my big tits.  It was time to go on the offensive.  “I must have really turned you on.”  I snaked my hand down to his cock.  “I knew you wouldn’t be able to handle me.”

“Looks to me like I handled you just fine” he said, slapping my ass.  

I took his now deflated dick in my hand.  It was still thick and heavy, but now flaccid it seemed to me so defeated, chastised.  I had beaten him, poor guy would need a week to recover and I’d be long gone.  “Do you know how stupid you are?” I said, standing as confidently like a vixen as I could.  “I never liked you, and it was only an accident you got me topless in the first place.  But what kind of a guy has a gorgeous blonde naked in his arms, and doesn’t try to get his dick in her?  A blowjob?  What are we, in high school?”  I took a long drink from his nearby beer, at the end deliberately letting the foam surprise me by swelling up and overflowing out of my mouth and onto my chest.  Oops.  I dabbed my lips with my hand.

“I thought you didn’t like me,” he said, surprised.

I laid it back on thick again, letting him realize that I had been in control the whI laid it back on thick again, letting him realize that I had been in control the whole time.  My erect nipples pressed against his chest, reminding him that he had left me unsatisfied; I stood on my toes on one leg while I raised the other one to rub his muscular thigh, teasing his spent and defeated dick with my moist and exposed pussy, tracing his weary and saliva slicked cock riskily along the outside of my very wet and hungry cunt lips, and I kissed him lustily.  “A real man would have satisfied me anyway.”

“Sounds like a challenge,” he said.  And he picked me up, flung me over his shoulder, and carried me into the cabana.

I squealed in surprise, instantly knowing I had made a terrible mistake.  I had underestimated how much he wanted to fuck me, and definitely underestimated his ability to fuck.  He laid me down on the bed, one hand cupping my ass and the other tracing a line from my neck to my pussy.  I let him.  Ok, let’s see if you’re bluffing.  I spread my legs lewdly, defiantly.  I didn’t know what my plan was.  I was daring him to try to fuck me, betting that he wouldn’t be able to, then turn up the pressure by teasing him that his flaccid dick was unable to match his bravado.  Boy was I wrong.  He put one hand on my hip bone, pinning me to the bed, the other hand held one of my tits as he slid his pelvis– and his impossibly re-hardening cock– in between my thighs.  “I’ve wanted to do this since I met you,” he said, “I knew it was only a matter of time before I got between your legs.”  He tugged on a nipple, causing me to arch my back in involuntary arousal.  This bastard was rocking my body.

I looked down at our hips, my spread thighs, his muscular ass above me. I had that crazy thought again, that since we both had such sexy bodies it was expected that I should fuck him.  Well.

He undulated his hips a little, causing his solid column of cock to slicken along my wetness. His big dick was sliding frictionlessly all around the outside of my pussy, making it swell even more.  We kissed intensely.  He would split my pussy lips like a hot dog in a bun, rubbing the whole length of his long shaft along it, dragging it endlessly across my clit.  He was masturbating himself on my pussy lips, he was masturbating me with his cock, and it was driving me wild.  I watched, helplessly, trying not to moan as his engorged cock stimulated my clit, while the rest of his body loomed over me proudly watching a blonde amateur involuntarily cream his manhood.  It was so easy for him to do this to me.  In between kissing him and trying to suppress dozens of orgasms I was angry at myself for getting so aroused, for letting him see how aroused I was.  But I still couldn’t bring myself to stop what his cock was doing to me.  I didn’t know what I wanted anymore.

“Oh god,” I moaned, helplessly near climax.  “Do you have a condom?”

He laughed at me.  “Of course not.”

“Uhhhh….” I moaned deliriously, closing my eyes.  How much could I get away with enjoying without letting him know I was enjoying it…?

“You’re so wet, so open,” he said.  “I bet I could make you come just doing this.”

Oh my God he had no idea.  My hands went to his chest– holding him up for me, holding him off of me, as if that would stop him from doing what he was built to do.  I refused to let him have the satisfaction of seeing me come.  Blowing him was nothing, I told myself, meaningless, I had been in total control.  This was different.  I had to defy his cock’s reckless assault on my cheating pussy.  

It was a race to see who could cum last. Oh fuck. I was going to lose.

“Even I never guessed how spectacular you’d be in bed.”  Was I?  “If I had known, I would have fucked you a lot sooner.”

Ahhhh– he popped the head of his now fully erect cock inside me and I clamped down on the head.  I had to stop this, this thing that felt so necessary but was so wrong, but my body’s arousal betrayed me by lubricating his bullying cock head.  What kind of a woman was I?  My poor husband, I had to stop this for his sake.  But Jack pumped the head in and out of the opening, battering it open, forcing it to surrender.  This guy was a sexual machine, as much as I knew I should stop, just the selfish and dominating way he wanted my body was making my lust overwhelm me. I squeezed my pussy as tight as I could, pointlessly trying to prevent him from penetrating me.

“Oh, god,” I groaned guiltily,  “it’s so fucking thick.”  

I wanted this jerk off me, and deep inside me.  So the result of my ambivalence was that I was simultaneously spreading my legs wide to invite him in yet clamping my drooling pussy tight to keep him out.  

In other words, I was giving him the perfect fuck.

“Unnggghhh,” I moaned.

“You are so sexy,” he responded.

“Ohhh,… God, no, I’m married… please don’t make me cheat on my husband…” I was half saying it to remain faithful, half to dare him to take me.

He smirked.  “Don’t worry, baby, it isn’t cheating until it’s more than half in.”

“Ahhhh,” I moaned.

He forced his thick cock deeper into my pussy despite my squeezing.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,”  he said.  “I can’t take it.  You’re a goddess.”

“Ahhhhhhhhhhh,” I moaned.  His hands were supporting his weight so he could watch my body squirm freely beneath him.  He leaned in and lecherously sucked on my tits.  Why were my legs so spread open for him?  I couldn’t squeeze my pussy forever, and every time I tired he managed to slide another inch into me before I locked tight again.  The result was that not only was I getting more and more stretched by his giant cock, but I was basically kegeling myself towards  orgasm on his rock hard pole.  The idea of coming hard on this arrogant dick  bullying into my tight but frictionless pussy…

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” I said as it slid in further.  Was this guy going to have all of me?  Was nothing going to be reserved for my poor husband?  He was resizing my pussy, it would never fit my husband again.  Oh God.  I had to keep him out, I could not let myself come, but then he shifted his hips and drove his cock upwards.  My legs spread wider, my back arched, and my head tilted backwards, my breasts presented themselves to his greedy mouth.

“Fuck you’re so sexy, look at your spectacular body, look at how it moves.  I wish your husband could see you right now.”

What would he see?  A wife submitting to an arrogant stud?  A big titted blonde getting devastated by her husband’s chauvinistic rival?

He leaned in and sucked my upturned chin, “let me in, you gorgeous slut, I want in…”

“Ahhh” I cried again, trying to squeeze him out.  So thick– I couldn’t let myself cum!

“Please, oh God, no more, I can’t take it.”  I could take it, I could take all of it–

“So fucking tight,” he insisted, purposely swelling his massive cock to make the point.  “I can’t believe how easy it was to get between your legs.”

I cooed involuntarily, “easy? Oh, god, I’m married…” and then I sucked his tongue into my mouth.  I arched my back and caressed him with my thighs.  “I shouldn’t be doing this… it’s so big…. This is so wrong.”  He had me laid out like a starfish and the only resistance I offered was my squeezed pussy muscles.  “Oh, baby,” I sighed into his mouth, “don’t make me cheat on my husband by making me come with you.”

But of course that was what he wanted.  He laughed nastily, the big jerk, gloating over his conquest.  “You’re a very bad wife, I’m going to have to punish your pussy for him,” he said.  Here I was, flat on my back with my pussy totally full of barely half his shaft,  and all I could do was narrate,  “ohhhh…. you’re so thick…..”  He leaned down and licked my conquered lips.

I reluctantly, passionately, moaned into his mouth as we kissed.  

“Does it feel good?” he said.

“Ahhh.”

“I can’t understand why your husband doesn’t like me,” he teased.  “It’s just sex.  I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Fuck,” I said.

“Just stretch you a little.  So you can enjoy it more.”

“Fuck!”

“Maybe next time we should let him watch so he can see how much you enjoy it.”

“Fuck,” I said again.

“He’d probably jack off, watching how sexy you look taking my dick, no way he’d be able to help himself.”

Oh god, what a thought!  He kept inching his cock further into me while I pointlessly tried to squeeze him out, but I was so wet that it was no use.  Finally that arrogant bastard got his dick all the way inside my unfaithful pussy, and just to prove he’d conquered me, he thrust upwards and bottomed out.  “Tight fit,” he said.  “There isn’t going to be any room for my cum.”

“Oooooohh!” I squealed at this, and almost came immediately.  No!  I had resigned myself to getting fucked by this stud, and by the way he knew how to handle my body, I guess I never stood a chance.  But even if he was going to use me as a fuck toy for his selfish pleasure, no way was I going to cum, no way was I going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he could make me climax– no way would I let him talk to my clueless husband as he recalled the look, the feel, the sounds of my adulterous orgasm.  I tried to concentrate on how much I hated him to distract my mind, but the fact that I didn’t like him made it even hotter, it intensified the feeling of his shaft which I was never supposed to feel plowing my pussy with deep, deliberate strokes.

He must have sensed that I was holding back.  He took it as a challenge.  “I want to watch you cum,” he said.

“Not going to happen,” I said breathlessly kissing him, holding his magnificent shoulders.

Without slowing his strokes at all, he smirked and gently slapped my tits.  “Yes it is, many times.”

So fucking arrogant, so sure of himself.  Ahhhhh.  I was so close, please, no, no.  He leaned down again and kissed me, his forceful tongue fucking my mouth like his cock was fucking my cunt.  Oh, God.  I arched my back, I threw my hands behind my head in partial submission.  “Oh, oh, oh, you fucking bastard, oh, God, please, no, don’t make me cum…” I couldn’t take it anymore,  just the thought of this jerk bringing me to orgasm so soon, so easily, feeding his ego, watching yet another pliable blonde climax over his perfect cock– the thought itself was making me orgasm against my will.  Helplessly, I begged him in the lustiest voice, “oh, please, baby, no more, I don’t want to cheat on my husband…”

With a laugh, he fucked me with more power, more lust, more— cock— and I was lost.

“Oh—- fuck— ooooohhhhhhh!”  The orgasm ripped through my body.  “Oh, God, you fucker, you’re making me cum!  You’re making me cum!”  He didn’t change his stroke at all, he powered through my climax,  watching me cum beneath him.  He knew how to move, how to ride my spasming cunt through my orgasm, his dick rigid, hard and forceful, letting me max out around him as he enjoyed the spectacle.  Oh!  I know it’s crazy, but I thought I owed it to my husband to at least think about him– at least a little!

“Oh, god, you bastard, I’m coming on you, I can’t stop coming on you!”  I looked right into his eyes with devilish delight.  “Ahhh, my husband will not be happy when he hears about this!”

He started laughing, laughing at me climaxing!  He had taken me and made sure I knew it.  “That’s it, squeeze it, baby, squeeze my cock as you come.”

Oh, how did this happen?  He wasn’t even supposed to see me naked, let alone this get his dick in me, let alone… I twitched my hips wildly, deep contractions traveling across my hips and abdomen, he was so hard I could feel the cap of his cock pushing in and then dragging back out.  “Oh, oh!”

Just as I started to come down he leaned completely over me, his face aligned with mine.  I was beaten.  I opened my mouth and slid my tongue into his, completely submitting.  He was going to fuck me any way he wanted, and I was going to love it.

He pumped into me like a machine, in total control of my writhing, unfaithful body.  When he spun me around and to slide into me from behind,  I deliberately arched my back like a kitten so he could grab my ass. I couldn’t tell if I was acting like a slut or I was a slut.  I looked back over my shoulder with lust and viciousness,  I hated this stud; and when I saw the arrogant expression on his smug face for so easily seducing another man’s wife, I came again, loudly.

And then the door opened.

A stunning brunette in a bikini top and sarong stood in the doorway, very amused.  “Hi,” she said.  “Sorry to bother you.”

“Hey,”  Jack said nonchalantly, not changing his rhythm or his grip on my ass. I was mortified, aroused– but I couldn’t stop either.  I looked up at her through glazed eyes.

She stifled back a giggle, putting her finger to her lips.  This was evidently not a new scenario for her.  “There’s a man outside,” she said with obvious delight, “he says he’s looking for a blonde in a pink bikini… and I’m like, ‘aren’t we all?'” She giggled.  “Actually, he’s only looking for the blonde, we already found the bikini… well, half of it…”

“It’s their honeymoon,” said the cocky cocksman filling me with cock.  “We’re celebrating.”  Oh god!  My husband would die!

Then I heard someone approaching the cabana. It had to be–

The brunette smiled wickedly at us.  “These walls are really thin, they were kinda not designed for privacy.  He probably heard… someone… having sex.”  Her eyes lit up excitedly.  “Would it be super awkward or super hot if he found me in here with you guys? ‘Surprise!'”  Pausing to consider, she blew us a kiss and then slipped out the door,  closing it quickly behind her.  She wouldn’t–!

A man in the distance said something we couldn’t hear, because she responded, “Have you checked these cabanas?” That bitch!

Jack kept fucking me.  “You should be a little more quiet,” he said helpfully.

“This one, too?” said the brunette, right outside our door.  I should have run, hid, but I couldn’t.  And I couldn’t be quiet, either.  My body was in total control of me, it didn’t care if my husband caught us.  If he walked in I’d tell him I was sorry, that I loved him,  that surely he could understand, I’d make it up to him… then he’d have to wait for me to finish getting fucked.  If he loved me, he’d just have to get over it.  I moaned loudly.

They heard it.  “Oops!” the brunette giggled, as if this was all an accident.  “Yeah, that’s probably someone else’s wife.”

“Ughhhh,” I moaned again. You slut, either save me or burn me, I can’t take it anymore!

“I think I saw them earlier,” the brunette whispered to him but loud enough for us to hear.  “She was kinda tipsy.”

“Ohhhhhhh,” I moaned into the pillow, my ass in the air, Jack’s balls slapping against my clit as he thrust into me.

“Should we peek?” she whispered loudly.  “They probably wouldn’t even notice us–”  and I heard the doorknob turn.  That devious bitch!  My husband was actually going catch us, to see me. My pussy clamped down over the thick dick.

The door clicked.  “Oh, it’s locked.  Oh well.”  Then a pause.  “Maybe I can… help you search some of the other cabanas?”

I got upright on my knees as Jack fucked me from behind, turning my chest around and kissing him wildly on the mouth to keep myself quiet.  Was she saving me, taunting me, or was she seriously going to fuck my husband?

“Well, ok,” her voice receding as they walked away, “I’m sure she’ll turn up soon, there’s only so many places a newlywed can go without her bikini.”  

Jack smiled into my moaning mouth as kissed me. “Your poor husband. Two gorgeous sluts and he can’t get his dick into either one.”

I giggled.  I was a slut he couldn’t get his dick into.  It was funny.

He rolled me onto my back again.  I lay underneath as he rode me.  “I guess you’re going to fuck that little hottie next,” I teased.

“Why not?  Know her number?”

“It’s the same as her size, you big dicked dummy, she works at the front desk.”  I rolled my eyes at him as I stroked his hair.  “Women helping women.”  The whole situation was so intense.  “Oh, god, I can’t stop coming with you.  You handle my body so well.”

“It needs to be handled, you are amazingly gorgeous.  You’re like a sexual fantasy.”

I kissed him breathlessly, delirious from the sensations.  “You don’t have flatter me anymore, fucker, you already got your dick in me.”

He liked that.  I imagined how perfect we must have looked having sex with each other.  The only way it was bad was that I had kinda promised not to.  I kissed him  again, rewarding myself for being so naughty.

He sat back on the bed and lifted me onto his lap, and because I had to bend my long legs to be able to sit on him his cock went even deeper and more upwards into my pussy.  I rested my arms loosely around his neck and resignedly made out with him as he cupped my breast with one hand and cupped my ass cheek with the other, slowly and  deeply pushing  into me.

“I can’t wait to tell everyone how easy it was to fuck you, the fantasy chick everyone wanted a piece of,” he said.

“Oh, no,” I said teasingly, knowing it would probably make this jerk more likely to do it, “it wasn’t easy.”

“Seems like I’ve been fucking you longer than it took to fuck you.”

“Ahhhh,” I moaned.

“I’m guessing it was the other way around for your husband,” he said.

“Ohhhhh, god.” I moaned.  Did he have to bring him into it–  and did it have to turn me on so much?  For his sake, I had to take a little bit of power back from this bragging jerk, and show him I could control him.

“Just please don’t cum in me,” I said, blatantly lying.  “Baby, please pull out.”  I slid my tongue into his mouth and kissed him hotly.

The aggressiveness surprised him.  “Fuck,” he said.

“Come on baby, you’re a strong man, you can hold it,”  I said naughtily.  “You don’t want to cum in another man’s wife, do you?”

“Fuck,” he said.

“Ohhhhh, ahhhhh,” I cooed, getting more aroused at the game I was playing with him.  

I fell to my back and pulled him over me.  “Oh baby,  you can’t cum in your coworker’s wife… that would be so wrong… what if I liked it…?”

“Ugh,” he groaned, trying to hold back.

“He wouldn’t be happy if you came inside me.”  I pouted.  “I’d try to tell him it wasn’t a big deal, but he’d still be jealous.  How would I ever make it up to him?”

To his own surprise he erupted, pulling his head away from me to groan, but with wicked pride I pulled his head back to mine and tongued him deeply, forcing his orgasm into both ends of me at the same time, and when I had his tongue in my mouth, I let myself enjoy the feel of his spasming cock.

I arched my back, his tongue delicately bit between my teeth, and I slid one hand down his back to his pumping ass while dragging my other foot up his leg.  

“Oh, god, please pull out, please don’t come in me….” I said as I pinned his clenching ass into me.  I was going to make this bastard unable to forget me, I was going to make him want me again and again and never have me. He groaned and thrust, his giant cock swelling even more pornographically within my selfish, insatiable pussy.  “Oh, fuck!  Oohhhhh!” I giggled and moaned at the same time, “ohhh, fuck, I can feel you cumming inside me!  Oh god, you fucker what are you doing to me?  Ahhh!”  I let him blast away, hosing my cervix with his cum, my pussy squeezing and contracting against his pulsing shaft, a look of both macho ecstasy and vanquished surprise on his face.  I giggled in his face, and came hard.  That’ll teach him!