The early evening light fades in the west as my car travels a nearly deserted stretch of rural interstate. It is late autumn, and darkness comes early. The serene tableau and the soft music pouring through the speakers puts me in a pensive mood. 

I am traveling to another city an hour from mine. I am to meet them at a hotel bar. My nerves jump in anticipation and uncertainty.

It all started on a swinging site. They are looking for a first experience. Tonight, I am to be her bull. 

It was their pictures that piqued my interest. In all, they were fully clothed, tastefully so. They were young for the site; mid-thirties would be my guess. They were, if I may be allowed, a cliché, simply adorable and entirely normal. The All-American couple, she of the sandy blonde shoulder length hair, slender build, smaller breasts, he approachably handsome, tall, and fit-looking. They certainly didn’t look like the typical couple searching for something kinky. I guess you never can tell what’s behind closed doors in your typical suburban community.

After a couple of months of messaging, first on the site, then offline, and video chatting, they had finally agreed to meet. We lived ninety minutes apart, and I offered to meet them more than halfway. They were amenable to closing the remaining distance, not the least, because there would be discretion in the location. Their home was not an option.

This will be a first for me as well. Not that I lack experience in matters of the flesh and kink, my dalliances ranging from domination to sex clubs to a trans threesome. A number of women have broken their marriage vows with me, just not with their husbands’ knowledge, much less their approval. My heart thrums, and electricity courses through my veins as I imagine what the night ahead might bring.

I’m completely prepared for the possibility that their nerves might fail them at the moment of truth. The neutral site has been chosen not only to protect their marital fortress but also to enable them, or me for that matter, to politely call the entire thing off. We are to meet in the bar, not their room. We will share a cocktail, get to know one another face to face, and if the mood is right, if the chemistry seems there, if their nerves hold steady, we will ascend to the hotel room, hang the do not disturb sign, and see where the evening takes us.

Despite my excitement, the miles slip easily by. The music puts me in a trance. I am focused. The exit approaches, and I ease the car off the highway.  Two turns later, I pull into the parking lot outside a standard-issue Marriott. I park and pull out my phone. There is already a text waiting for me.

“We’re here, having a drink. So excited to finally meet you!”

My heart jumps, and my cock twitches. I type a quick reply. “Just parked. See you in a minute!”

Taking a deep breath, I exhale and open the car door. I exit and walk across the lot toward the hotel entrance. This is one of my favorite times – the final moments before the meeting when all the anticipation and imagination are poised to turn into reality.

I walk through the front door into the lobby. I could be anywhere – Des Moines, Birmingham, Toledo. They all look alike. It isn’t hard to find the lounge, and as I enter it, my eyes sweep the room. I see them tucked away in the back, in a discreet booth, their faces betraying a nervous excitement.

I study them as I approach. I don’t pay him much heed, preferring to focus on her. After all, she is the one whose lips I intend to kiss passionately, whose legs I expect to part for me, who even now must be imagining the moment when a stranger will penetrate her married body.

They see me, and her face brightens. Good – she likes what she sees in person. Half the battle won. For my part, I find her to be everything I’ve imagined – just as mom-next-door adorable as her photos, yet even more attractive. This is going to be fun – naughty fun. 

My eyes dart toward him. His face is drawn somewhat tight, but the expression isn’t hostile. I can sense that he has mixed feelings about this. We will find out soon enough. When I reach the booth, he stands, steps forward, and shakes my hand. 

I grasp it firmly, tell him it’s nice to meet, and quickly turn toward her. I lean down, gently taking her hand in mine, and brush my lips softly against her fingers as gaze deeply into her blue eyes. I detect a faint shiver, and a scent of perfume from her wrist. 

I slide into the booth opposite them. Our text messages had gradually evolved to an easy familiarity, but now our banter has a slightly nervous and awkward quality. I am just beginning to size her up when we are interrupted by the server. He orders another cocktail before asking her if she wants anything. His lack of chivalry betrays his nerves over the prospect of handing her over to me. 

She declines in a manner that intrigues me. 

“No, thank you, dear, I want to be fully present tonight.”

I order a low-alcohol beer. I will sip it gently, taking in just enough to take the edge off, also wanting to be on my best game should the night progress as planned.

Shortly after the server returns, I politely suggest that she and I be allowed to talk alone for a few minutes. He seems a bit taken aback, but I stare at him intently, and he willingly rises and walks out of the lounge toward the lobby, as if going toward the men’s room.

We are alone, she and I, and I place my hands halfway across the table, palms up and open. She recognizes the invitation and places her hands in mine. I resume studying her. She has done her hair but applied very little makeup. She needs none, her natural beauty enough to entice any man. Her eyes still indicate some nervousness, but there is something else in them – hunger. I look directly into them.

“You are a beautiful and sexy woman.”

She smiles. “Thank you,” is all she manages in reply.

“So,” I begin. “Here we are.”  I pause.

A deep breath followed by a sigh. “Yes. Finally.”

“Finally,” I reply, smiling. She returns the smile. “So, how are you feeling right now? Nervous?”

“A bit nervous, yes. But excited. Really excited.”

“So you’re turned on?” I probe.

“Yes. I can’t believe this is really happening.”

I lean forward, brush her hair back, and stroke her cheek gently with the back of my fingers. She shivers again. I lean closer, as close as I can, and, looking directly into her eyes, I whisper, “I’m going to fuck you tonight. The way you need to be fucked. I’m going to give you what you have so desperately been missing, and I’m going to take what’s mine. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” came the reply.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s a good girl.” My index finger touches her lips, and I press further. They part, and her mouth opens slightly to accept it. They close around it, and she sucks it gently. Her eyes never leave mine.

I continue. “You love your husband, don’t you?” She nods, still sucking gently. “And you don’t want to hurt him?” Another nod. “But this is not about him. Tonight is about you. Only you.”

Her sucking becomes more intense. I withdraw my finger and place it in my mouth, cleaning her saliva off it. It returns to her chin this time and traces a slow line down over her throat and the top of her chest, where her blouse is unbuttoned to reveal just a hint of skin. I stop when I reach the fabric and rest it gently there.

“I have no desire to humiliate him. I don’t care one whit if he’s into that or not. But understand this – once we begin, to me, it’s as if he isn’t there, that he doesn’t exist. I will be completely focused on you. Are you okay with that?”

She nods again.

“Say it,” I insist.

Suddenly the words begin to tumble out. “Yes. I understand and agree. I want this so badly. It’s just been a fantasy to this point, but now that you are here, in the flesh, I’m trembling with desire. I’m already wet. No hesitation.”

I look over my shoulder. He stands discreetly outside the entrance to the lounge. I turn back toward her. “Why don’t you go out and ask him to come back? And then I want you to head up to your room. Change into that sexy lingerie that you bought for this occasion. Take your time, and savor every moment of getting dressed for me. Become the sexy beautiful woman you’ve been hiding for too long. Celebrate it. Anticipate what’s about to happen.”

I continue. “I will give him one last chance to call this off. If he does, I will send him up to your room, and you two can deal with the consequences. If he doesn’t, I need to ask you – do you want us both to come up or just me?”

“Both,” she immediately replies. “He needs to watch. I want him to see me being fucked by you, to see me cum on another man’s cock.”

With one last brush of hand to cheek, I send her away. “Go now. Get ready for me.”

She rises and goes to him. They talk briefly, and then she turns away toward the elevator. I wait patiently until he arrives and settles into the seat facing mine. He is quiet, waiting for me to speak first. I let the tension hang in the air for a moment before starting.

“I know you agreed to this meeting to further your exploration. Your wife is an attractive and exciting woman.”

His face shows no emotion. I pause for a moment, and when he doesn’t say anything, I continue.

“Now that we’re here, at the point of decision, are you still willing to go through with this?”

An awkward silence follows. I fill it by saying, “She wants you to watch. If you agree to go forward, things are likely to get very intense between us. I had the sense from our chats that she craves that, and now, having seen her in person, I can feel that coming off her.” I hesitate to let him speak, but he doesn’t, so I go on.

“Let me assure you, I will give her just what she needs and no more. I will treat her with the utmost respect, and she will be safe at all times. I don’t know, nor do I care to, what your sex life together is like, but she has a fantasy, and I am here to fulfill it. But let me return to the central question – are you still okay with this? Can you handle watching another man fuck your wife? To hear her scream, to witness her orgasms?”

I stop now. He needs to answer. The silence stretches on, and then he says, “Yes, I am. I want her to be happy, and to be honest, the thought of it turns me on.”

I respond, “You are her husband, and I have no intention of doing any damage to your relationship. When night turns to morning, she will still be yours and only yours. Let me be clear, though… tonight is her night, her fantasy. Once I enter the room, you must tolerate, you must endure, anything and everything you see. The only person who can stop it is her. Not you. You are in the background, like wallpaper or drapes. So let me ask one final time – are you willing to go through with this?”

He nods, quicker this time. “Yes, yes, I am.”

“Good,” I respond. “Then, shall we? I sent her upstairs to get ready.”

A look of surprise crosses his face as we rise. I suggest he bring his half-finished cocktail with him and hasten to the bar to close the tab.

An awkward silence envelops the elevator as we ascend. I have no desire to make small talk, to befriend him, and besides, I feel it only respectful to leave him alone with his thoughts and emotions, whatever they may be. The ride is mercifully brief and in short order, he is tapping the key and opening the door.

The room is dimly lit. She has taken care to play with the various lighting options, and an intimate glow suffuses the space. She sits in an easy chair, a glass of wine in her hand, nearly full. We lock eyes, and her legs part slightly as she bites her lower lip.

Her lingerie choice is tasteful and erotic. The black lace bra is sheer enough to show her nipples already hardening. Lace trim tastefully accents the low-cut top edge, accentuating the curve of her modest breasts. Her athletic shoulders are framed by its narrow straps. The thong is sheer as well, and in the low light, there is just a hint of the treasure that lies between her now-splayed legs. The fingers of her right hand begin to brush gently up and down her taut stomach as she continues to pierce me with a hungry gaze.

She rises and approaches me, walking tentatively, her desire tempered by uncertainty and hesitancy. No doubt conflict plays out in her emotions. I notice more clearly that she is tall, of long midriff and slender, toned legs. Her hair, I now see more clearly, has been artfully coiffed. She must have visited the salon today for this special occasion. I wonder what went through her mind as her hairdresser worked her magic.

He seems at a loss as to what to do, so I firmly but kindly suggest that he take a seat in the chair she has just vacated. This will give him a good viewpoint but keep him far enough away to enable her and I a properly intimate space of our own.

I marvel at her beauty and the contradiction between her girl-next-door look and the sexy harlot so willing to chase the white rabbit and risk the consequences.

I close the distance between us as he settles into his seat. I take her hands in mine and stare deeply into her eyes. She locks on in response. I raise her hands and gently brush my lips across them, taking care that he can see this act of intimacy.

“You look ravishing, my dear,” I say softly but loud enough for him to hear. “You have me so turned on.”

She whimpers slightly in response. I know the answer to the questions I’m about to ask, but I ask anyway.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this? To fuck a man who isn’t your husband? To submit to a strange cock? And to have him bear witness?”

She shivers at the prospect of the forbidden. “Yes,” she replies firmly. Her hands are trembling slightly. I release them and take her face in my hands, pulling her toward me and kissing her gently, our lips barely touching.

I tease her like this, kissing softly, then pulling away to gaze into her eyes. Her breathing is audible. I kiss her again, and her lips part, her mouth opening. I probe ever so slightly, my tongue just touching the tip of hers. She sticks her tongue out in response, wanting to deepen the kiss, but I pull mine back in a teasing manner.

My fingers travel down her chest and hover above her breasts. She moans. Our tongues dance, and hers moves more insistently, desperate to be inside my mouth. I brush across her nipples, already jutting out in arousal, pushing against the fabric. I step back, breaking our kiss, and pinch them gently at first and then more firmly, testing her pain threshold and studying her reaction.

She lets out a tiny yelp when I reach her limit, but she doesn’t pull away. I register this, noting that she will tolerate aggressiveness, perhaps that she even craves it.

I spin her around and embrace her from behind, the bulge of my erect cock pressing up against her ass. I sweep the hair aside and gently kiss the back of her neck, and then whisper directly into her ear.

“What do you want more than anything right now?”

She responds quietly, “I want your cock.”

I direct her to repeat her response, louder this time. I want her husband to hear it. She complies. I hear him shift in his chair but don’t turn to look at him. I have placed him in the background, where he will remain for the duration of our tryst.

My focus sharpens to her and only her. I wrap her neck in the crook of my arm and pull her in tight. She needs to feel my strength, the physical power I wield over her. As expected, she whimpers again, and I detect a scent of her sex in the air. To verify, I reach down and run my fingers over the sheer lace front of her thong. It is already wet.

I push the fabric to one side and run two fingers up and down her slit. The heat is intense, and her lips engorged. I dip a finger into her to find her soaking wet. I slip a second finger in and find her G-spot. Her body begins to tremble as I massage her, and her legs become weak. I increase the pressure and pace, edging her toward her first orgasm.

When I sense she is close, I abruptly pull out and offer my digits for her to taste. She utters a plea before taking them into her mouth and greedily cleaning them.

“Please….”

“Please, what?” I inquire.

“Please, don’t stop.”

“You were close,” I respond.

“Yes,” she breathes.

I reinsert my fingers. She climbs the wave again, and when I sense she is about to crest, I stop, pull her roughly to me, and speak directly into her ear.

“Not until I say so.”

I resume my fingering. “Do you understand?” I ask.

“Yes,” she whimpers. 

I increase the pace and intensity of my ministrations. Her orgasm approaches once more. I breathe into her ear, loud enough for him to hear, “Does your husband know how to do this to you?”

No answer.

“Does he?”

Still no answer.

“Does he?” More intensely this time.

“No,” comes the definitive reply. “God, no. Please, just let me cum.”

I answer by withdrawing. I spin her around forcefully so that she is facing me, and place my hands on her shoulders, pushing her down to her knees. She needs no further direction, and with the eyes of a starving maiden, she opens the front of my pants and frees my turgid member. She stares at it intently before gently wrapping her hand around it.

Tentatively she licks the tip and then takes the head into her mouth, her tongue rolling around. I wait for her to go deeper, and when she does, I grab the back of her head and push her down until I can sense her beginning to gag. I hold her there for several seconds before releasing her, and she comes up for air gasping, saliva drooling from her mouth and dripping off my cock.

I slap my cock against her face several times, then plunge back into her mouth. The familiar wet, gurgling sound is audible throughout the room. She begins to work me with increased fervor, and I push her down again and again, releasing her when needed. Reassurances pour forth from me – that feels so good, you’re a dirty slut, aren’t you, good girl.

She is playing with herself as she goes down on me, her fingers furiously rubbing the sensitive spot between her legs. I reach down for her breasts and pull her nipples until she comes off me to emit a short but clear scream. The strumming intensifies.

It is her turn now. I withdraw from her mouth, remove my shoes and socks, and step out of my pants and shorts. She eagerly unbuttons my dress shirt, and I shed it. Leaving a trail of clothing in my wake, I lift her to the bed and kneel before her.

My tongue traces a wet line down each leg, from the ankle to the very top of the thigh. Each time I stop short of her triangle, which is still encased in its lace covering. I tease her by running my tongue from her belly button to the waistband of her thong, and she moans and presses up in a motion that urges me lower. Instead, I pull up and gently slap the front of her pussy through the fabric.

I look up and notice that she is biting her lip hard. Her musky scent is intoxicating, and I return to her nether region, pulling the thong to the side. She is shaved smooth, and she has sculpted a landing strip above, lending a perfect erotic touch to her womanhood.

I begin by drooling on her clit and carefully massaging it with two fingers in a circular motion. She presses up again, and I pat her playfully before diving in to taste her. The first touch is directly from the tip of my tongue to her clit, gently and teasingly. It sends an electric jolt through her, and she jumps involuntarily.

I continue with a series of quick flicks, followed by taking her into my mouth and gently sucking while flicking with my tongue. This drives her upward, and her hands grab my head while her moans grow louder and more urgent.

I work the entirety of her sex now, licking from her ass all the way up to her pussy. The first lick on her rosebud elicits a deep groan. I peel the petals of her flower apart and taste her, varying the touch and technique, probing, gauging reaction. She is close, so very close, her breathing rapid and labored. She is losing control of her body. Just when she is about to explode, she pleads again.

“Please!”

I pull my mouth off her, give her a little slap down there, and move up to kiss her deeply, my face covered with her wetness. She kisses back aggressively, and her hand reaches instinctively for my cock. Precum leaking profusely from its tip provides all the lubricant needed for her to stroke me, and my tongue jams into her mouth in response.

It is time.

I move atop her, pulling her legs as far apart as they can go, and position my cock so that the underside rests firmly on her lips. I begin to slide up and down, her wetness coating my member. She pushes up against me with all her might as I tease her in this manner. I look her directly in the eye, and she returns my gaze with pure lust. She reaches for my cock and positions it at her entrance. Her eyes plead.

I tease more. I press forward until I am just about to part her entrance, then pull back and break contact entirely. I repeat this over and over until she is ready to cry out. As a final tease, I slap the head against her clit five times, and she jumps again.

I place myself at her entrance again. No words are uttered as I stare her down one last time. She responds by pushing against me, and in one swift motion, I bury myself as deeply inside her as I can muster. She screams, an “Oh God” escaping her lips.

I remain buried in her for a couple of seconds before pulling nearly all the way out and then violently thrusting back deep within her. I begin to pump, slowly at first and then picking up speed and intensity. After a few dozen hard thrusts, I withdraw and slap my cock against her clit again.

She explodes. I leave her no room to recover, slamming back into her roughly, and begin to fuck her like a man possessed. I pull out, flip her over, and slide her thong down her thighs. I maneuver them past her knees and completely off.

I pull her upper body toward me as I ram back into her, my arm again cradling her neck, and then unfasten her bra to free her perfect breasts. I need her to be completely naked for me, and I sense she needs it too, as she begins to push back assertively to match my every thrust.

We are caught in a frenzy now. I am spanking her, hard, red welts beginning to show on her porcelain skin. I push her flat on the bed, penetrating her even deeper. She is emitting filth now.

“Oh my God, you are so hard. You are so deep. Fuck me harder.”

I grab a fistful of hair near the base and yank back, exposing her throat and allowing me to lean forward and speak into her ear. “Does he get this hard?”

No hesitation now. “No!” comes the emphatic reply.

“Does he fuck you like this?”

“No!!”

“Does he make you this wet?”

“God, no!!!”

“Does he treat you like the slut that you are?

“No!!!!”

“Does he make you cum like I do?”

“Oh my fucking God….” The words turn to an elongated, guttural scream as she spasms uncontrollably in orgasm beneath me. I push her head down onto the mattress and pound her even harder. I sense my own climax approaching, but I’m not ready to finish just yet.

I withdraw and pull her up, quickly flipping over onto my back. I grab her and position her above me. She responds by guiding me back to her entrance and sliding down onto me, her silky smoothness enveloping me once more.

I fuck her from below, driving up into her. I grab her breasts roughly now, pinching, twisting, biting her nipples. She is fucking me back hard, and her eyes are closed. I grab her throat and gradually increase the pressure until she is overcome by another full-body release. My balls are soaked, the squishy sounds of our coupling mixing with the slapping of our bodies.

I look up at her beautiful face, lost in rapture, her perfectly proportioned breasts, her long torso. I look down and see my cock moving in and out of her. The thought that I’m fucking another man’s wife in front of him, giving her what he has not been able to, begins to drive me over the edge.

“Ohhhh myyyyy Gooood.  This feels soooo gooood!” She moans.

I quickly flip her back over and increase the pace and intensity of my thrusts, each movement as furious as I can muster. I realize we had never discussed not using condoms. That line was crossed a while back by mutual, unstated assent. But this is different. I need to give her fair warning, and as my balls begin to prepare for release, I scream out that I’m going to cum.

She responds by looking directly at me, pulling me down, and screaming, “Cum inside me! Please! Give it to me!!!”

That does it. I release powerfully, and a week’s worth of stored-up cum floods her pussy, jet after jet shooting hard enough that I know she can feel it hitting her cervix. My entire body goes rigid, and the feeling, almost painful, is so strong that I am nearly overwhelmed. My groans turn to screams, and my ejaculation sets off another earthquake inside her. This time she is practically crying.

My own aftershocks last far longer than normal. Eventually, I come to rest on top of and inside her. We are both gasping for breath. Equilibrium gradually returns, and I prop myself up and kiss her tenderly. We lay like this, not wanting to break our intimate connection. Somewhat surprisingly, I remain hard, our juices bathing me in a warm blanket.

Finally, almost reluctantly, I withdraw. I move to rise, but she pulls me toward her, and we end up side by side, gazing into one another’s eyes. She is smiling, an admiring and grateful expression on her face. We kiss, and I stroke her face and run my fingers through her hair. Her fingers trace lazy, affectionate paths down my arms and across my back. Her legs intertwine with mine.

I am suddenly aware once again that we are not alone. I kiss her one more time and whisper that it’s probably best that I leave and give them some time alone. She protests, insisting she’s not ready to end this interlude, and begs me to stay. As I ponder the request, he rises and speaks for the first time since we arose from the table downstairs.

“I’m going to leave the two of you alone for a while. I’ll be downstairs having a drink.”

She casts him a quizzical glance.

“It’s okay, really,” he continues in response. “Your chemistry seems off the charts, and I know you want more, honey. I just really don’t need to be here to witness that. And I’d like you to have each other all to yourselves, without the distraction of me in the room, to see what that’s like. Besides, I could use a little time to process all this.”

She begins to say something in response, but he raises his hand and says, “I mean it. It’s okay. Truly.”

With that, he heads to the door and exits into the hallway.

The door clicks shut behind him. She turns toward me and kisses me with an even more passionate fervor. My cock responds instantly, and her hand closes around it.

We enjoy each other, then, reveling in the intimacy of our private space. We lose track of time, and much later, I reluctantly rise and dress. She follows me to the door, still naked. I turn to take her in one last time. She is aglow, her hair now a beautiful mess. I pull her toward me, and we embrace.

“This was amazing. You are amazing”, I say before kissing her again. “But you need to be with him now. You need to talk this through.”

She nods.

We share one final, passionate, tongue-dancing kiss, and I reluctantly open the door and step out into the night.

I don’t look for him in the lobby. Instead, I head straight to my car. I point it east, soft, rhythmic music playing as my mind replays the events of the past few hours. Her cum, mixed with mine, has dried on my cock. The thought makes me smile. Her evident fulfillment is gratifying. I picture her rapturous, erotic beauty in my mind’s eye. I begin to harden once again.

I think about them. What words passed between them? Did he make a move to reclaim her? Will this bring them closer? Can they handle this new aspect of their relationship? Those who play with fire can sometimes get burned, I remind myself. Another man might feel guilty for possibly creating the first crack in their foundation, but I have no such thoughts. Selfishness, perhaps? To the contrary, I reason that any cracks were already there, and if not me, someone else would have come along. At least this played out as planned, with his assent and witness. She could have had a secret affair.

This might turn out to be a one-time thing, or it might be the start of a new lifestyle for them. In any event, I rather doubt I will ever hear from them again, particularly given the geography.

I return home and pour myself a drink. Only then do I look at my phone. There is a single message on my secret text app. It is a picture – a close-up of the inside of her leg, cum trickling down the inside of her thigh.

I smile, take another swig, place the glass down, lean back, exhale deeply, and close my eyes.