Jane was right; if we wanted to do a true airtight, we were going to need an extra cock, but where to find one? The hookup apps were the obvious solution. I searched for the apps people were using for dating these days: Tinder, Feeld, and a few of the swinger apps: XLX, SDC, and Kasidie. Were we swingers? Was Jane a hotwife, and John was her bull? The names, terms, and definitions came at me thick and fast, and I felt overwhelmed.
I turned to Reddit, but that was a cesspool of desperation, flakes, and broken promises. The swinging apps looked promising. But was this something Jane truly wanted? Because he was out of town on business, John wasn't available that coming weekend, so I had some time to prepare.
I approached her that week, waiting for the highs and lows of our experience to settle down. I suggested a relaxing midweek hot tub session.
“So?” I poured her a glass of wine. I figured one or two was fine, but I wanted her of sound mind.
“So,” she responded; she knew I had something to say and was waiting for me to spit it out.
“I’ve really enjoyed the experiences with John so far.”
“And you want to stop?” she said,
“No—not at all,” I said, sipping my wine. “Unless you do?” Do you?”
“Haha, only if you do,” she said. So there we were, both doing it, both willing to stop if the other desired.
“I was wondering how serious it was." I said, “I mean, are we doing this every week? Only with John? What are the rules?”
“Honestly, I hadn’t thought about it,” she said, reaching out to touch my foot with hers, letting me know she was close. “The first time, it sort of happened, and then we fell into it. It looked like we were both enjoying it, so I kept going with it. But you’re right, we definitely need some parameters here.”
“I agree,” I said. “Were you serious about finding a third guy, or was that only in the heat of the moment?”
“I think I was serious. I meant it at the time, but sometimes the next day I feel guilty, wondering what my mom would think if she knew what we were doing. Are we even supposed to be doing this?”
I knew what she meant and imagined it must be more difficult for her than for me. Women were far more often labeled as a slut or loose, whereas men were much more likely to get the “stud” or attaboy treatment for the same behavior.
“I think, ‘Why should we feel guilty’?” She said, “We aren’t hurting anyone; everyone is consenting, but sometimes I can’t shake it.”
“I know what you mean,” I said, moving in for a hug. “We can totally stop if you want.”
“Stop?” She said, “I don’t want that, but lets keep talking. I don’t want to build up resentment or damage our relationship.”
"Neither do I, but the worst thing that could happen is if we ruin us."
“We won’t,” she said.
“Pinky promise.”
“Pinky promise.” And we pinkied on it.
"So, that other dude then?" I asked, making her laugh. “Would you do it if I could find someone?"
“What about a chick for you?” She said, “So far, I’m having all the fun here."
“Honestly, I’m having a ton of fun.” I said, "I've always fantasized about sharing you, but I've never known how to bring it up." I wasn’t sure when you first went to touch John, but once we started, I knew this was something I wanted and something I was going to love. For now, let’s explore this until we aren’t having fun anymore. Deal?”
“Deal, but where do we find another person?”
I explained the minimal research I had done, bringing up some of the apps on my phone. She wasn’t too keen on the random hookup apps like Tinder and Feeld, so we decided to make an account on XLX. We picked a few basic photos of ourselves and then added a few screencaps from the videos we'd made, taking care that no one's face was in them, and you couldn't see more than an arm or a leg of John, so there was no way to identify him.
"What should we include in the 'what we are looking for' section?" I said, When we got to that part.
“Let’s be honest,” she said, not knowing what that was going to get us into.
“So you mean like ‘looking for a guy to make my wife airtight?’” I said, and she nodded.
“Sure” We filled out all the details—our ages, preferences, and who we were looking for—and I hit submit before closing my phone. We sat back in the tub, relaxing with each other, unaware of the maelstrom we had set off.
The next morning, I opened my email—327 unread messages. What the hell? I checked, and almost all were from XLX. I opened the site with a sense of dread, only to find a wall of messages, 99% of which were of the form "'Sup?" or "Want to fuck?" It seemed like every monosyllabic guy within a fifty-mile radius (and some a good deal further away) wanted to fuck my wife. We had those “in town for business” who definitely weren’t married, people who were willing to fly from Alaska, and one guy who wanted us to meet him in Barcelona.
This was useless; how was I going to dig through this crap?
I decided to reverse things. If it won't come to us, maybe I can come to it? I thought and started searching (after turning off the option for ‘single men’ to contact us).
It took me a while, but I found a few candidates. Their profiles had more than the minimum; their photos weren't 90% dick-pics; and they had at least some basic command of the English language. One mentioned he was a masseuse by day, which opened up some intriguing opportunities.
I wrote each one a short message, introducing ourselves and what we were looking for, and logged off, traumatized.
The next day was much better; there were only two new emails from XLX. I logged in. One guy had not responded, one ruled himself out immediately as his message consisted of a full-frame photo of a not-very-impressive dick, but the third—the masseuse—had written an intelligible reply and had included a face pic of himself.
I showed Jane his profile, and she reluctantly agreed to meet. I shot him a mail asking if he was free on Friday around 8 p.m., and he agreed to meet us at The Well—our local dive bar—to see if there was a match.
We were both nervous as hell that day, fussing around the house, pretending to clean. There was a pit in my stomach. Spur-of-the-moment experiences with a friend were one thing, but now we were going to a bar with the express intention of finding a guy to fuck my wife. Was I OK with that? Was I insane? I didn’t know the answer to either question, but I wasn’t going to back out now.
Jane dressed in a low-cut top and short skirt. Going to give him a look at the good before he committed, I thought. I dressed more conservatively in jeans and a polo shirt. We found a seat at the back of the bar and texted him to let him know where we were. I was a wreck, a ball of nerves. Did this make me less of a man? A cuck?—another new term I’d learned in my research. I didn’t know. Would he show up? According to Reddit boards, at least 90% of people ghosted the first meetup online.
A voice interrupted my reverie. He said, "Jim," and there he was, standing before us. I stood, feeling like a prize idiot; I hadn’t noticed him enter the bar.
“Steve,” I said, shaking the proffered hand, feeling my face flush, “and this is Jane.” He hugged Jane, and I was glad to see he looked like his photos. Maybe a few pounds heavier, maybe a few years older, but close enough. He had actually showed up too, which was a bonus. Jim had had the sense to bring his drink to our table, removing the awkwardness of me having to offer to go get him one. He sat across from us, standing around 5'10, just like his profile said. Taller than me, but not tall enough to make me feel dwarfed.
“We’re new at this,” I blurted out, but I think that was probably obvious. That earned me a chuckle.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ve done this a few times. Not enough to make me an expert, but enough to help us feel our way through it. We’re just here to get to know each other. That's all. No expectations, no commitment.” I liked the sound of that. I asked him about himself. He was 47—older than us, with two college-age kids. He’d gone through a nasty divorce a few years back and was now starting to live his best life with no obligations.
Me and Jane gave him the basics about us without giving too much away, and then we started to get into the reason we were looking for a third.
“I liked your message,” said Jim, taking a sip of his beer. “I like a man who knows what he wants.”
“I tried the other way first,” I admitted to him. “Put out a post that we were looking for men.”
“Ah,” he said with a knowing smirk, “got the low-life of the entire surrounding area in your inbox, huh?” I chuckled in agreement. By this point, we were low on drinks. Me and Jane had agreed on an emergency signal of her squeezing my thigh three times if she felt uncomfortable and once if she was OK (again, courtesy of my extensive swinger/hotwife research). I felt a gentle squeeze on my leg and waited for more, but they didn’t come.
“Looks like we need more drinks,” I said, gesturing to his almost-empty glass. “How about I go to the bar and you two get better acquainted?” I caught Jane’s eye to make sure she was OK with it, and she winked back.
“What are you drinking?”
“Fat Tire.” I made my way to the bar, making sure I had a line of sight. My stomach was churning. Was I a huge idiot? Was I foolish to allow a man we hardly knew to spend time alone with my wife? I felt like a prize fool, but I stuck it out. I ordered another round, closing out the tab, figuring if we hadn’t made up our minds by the time these drinks were done, we never would.
Then, as I picked up the drinks and started back for the table, I looked up—they were kissing right there at the table. A wave of jealousy mixed with excitement shot through me. My wife was kissing another man in public. Chances were low that someone who knew us was going to see, but it was like a bolt of electricity had hit me. I’d never been so turned on before. I stalled, pretending I had to re-adjust the drinks, but really I wanted to watch them and see what happened next. I watched for maybe 30 seconds, and then he dove in to cup a breast. The warm feeling in my stomach continued; it was super hot, and the turn-on far outweighed the feelings of jealousy and weakness.
I couldn’t delay any more and made my way back to the table. They were still mid-kiss. Jane looked up guiltily. “He asked if he could kiss me,” she said. “I almost said no, but then I thought you’d most likely be OK with it.” She looked nervous, like she’d broken a rule.
“I’m totally OK with it,” I said, putting the drinks down and leaning in to kiss her, getting a small whiff of his cologne in the process—peppery and distinctly male. By now, anyone with a view of our table would be totally confused as to who was with whom; those were definitely not brother-type pecks on the cheek.
“I guess we’re getting acquainted then,” I said, sitting. Jim moved closer to Jane, joining her on the bench seat.
“Don’t let me stop you,” I said, and Jim leaned in for another kiss. This was better than seeing them from across the bar; this was close up and personal. Jane moved her hand to his chest, running it up and down over his shirt, before reaching underneath to contact his bare flesh. I was mesmerized and massively turned on watching my wife make out with a total stranger. My cock was painfully erect in my pants, and my nerves electrified.
After a minute or so, they separated.
“So, what now?” I said. We’d made a deal not to do anything beyond a meet and greet the first time, and so far this had gone way faster than I had anticipated. I was within a whisker of breaking our rule, but Jane did it for me.
“We’d love to continue the night,” she said, speaking for me. Jim looked at me and must have noticed my hesitation.
“Look,” he said. I totally get it’s scary to invite a stranger back. Here’s my driver's license. Why don’t you folks take a photo of it? I’ll go out to my car, and you chat for the next ten or so minutes. If I don’t have a text by then, no harm done; we can meet again if you want or not. If you do text me, then I promise I’ll be respectful and follow whatever rules you have in place.”
With that, he downed the last of his beer and left.
“What are we doing?” I said, “Are we really inviting a stranger back?” The thought both scared and excited me.
“He seems nice,” Jane said, “and we know who he is.” I was on the fence but decided to take a chance.
"OK, I said, let’s do this. I had no idea if I was making a good or a bad decision, but the die was cast. I texted him our address and asked him to park down the street a ways so the neighbors wouldn’t see.
We passed his car on the way in, and he’d done exactly as asked. Jane shrugged off her jacket, and I texted him “coast clear." I was on tenterhooks; this was way beyond what I had expected, and my stomach was roiling and churning. Jane said she was going upstairs to get “more comfortable,” and I waited downstairs.
Less than a minute later, there was a knock at the door, and I showed him upstairs. The bathroom light was on, and it was just us, guys, trying not to feel awkward, though we knew the likelihood was that we'd both be fucking my wife before the night was over. I wasn’t sure what to do next, but Jim fixed that for me, stripping off his shirt, jeans, and socks. He was way more built than me, even if his belly obscured some of the underlying muscle. I noticed a good-sized bulge in his shorts. How big is this guy? I wondered.
Before I could wonder too much, the bathroom door opened, and out came Jane. We both sucked in a breath. She looked amazing. She had on high heels, hold-up stockings, and a black lace thong topped with a half-bustier.
Jim immediately went to her, taking her in his arms and kissing her full on the lips. She leaned into him, her hand running up and down his back, pulling him toward her. I was standing to the side when I saw Jim reach down, taking her tits in his large hands and massaging her through the thin bra. She let out a moan as he reached her nipples.
Then Jane dropped to her knees; she looked magnificent with her toned legs splayed out behind her. She took Jim’s shorts by the hand and dragged them down over his cock. It was big, but not as massive as I had feared. Maybe my same girth and as long as John. Still, it was nothing to sniff at. As his thick member appeared, Jane let out a gasp. He looked like he was only half-hard. I had no idea how much bigger it was going to get, but it threatened to make our airtight plans interesting, to say the least.
Jane was undeterred, though, taking its length in her hand. It looked preposterous, his large member in such a tiny hand. Tentatively, she gave it a lick, then put the head in her mouth. Jim let out a groan, and I took the opportunity to drop my shorts, revealing my much closer-to-average cock. I was curious as to how much Jane could handle. Jim reached down and gently placed his hand on the back of her head, not applying much pressure but making his intent known. She opened wider, her jaw at its limit, and pushed forward. Around a third disappeared into her mouth. I had no idea how she was going to deal with the rest.
She pulled back, his glistening head appearing from her mouth, a small strand of her saliva connecting her mouth to him. I took a moment to revel in the almost absurd situation. Here I was, a married man, standing in my own bedroom naked while my wife was doing her best to sword-swallow a huge cock not three feet from me. Jane took him in her mouth again, this time getting around halfway down.
“Good girl,” he said, then began to apply a little pressure to the back of her head. Jane made a gagging noise but kept going, getting around three-quarters of him in. Finally, he allowed her to pull back. She settled back on her haunches.
“I don’t think I’m going to get that monster all the way down.”
“You will, before the end of the night,” said Jim, and I believed him.
Jane then turned her attention to me, standing up to kiss me. I tasted the musky, tart flavor of him on her lips. My cock swelled more, and she dropped to her knees and easily consumed my length, her lips connecting with the base of my cock. It felt incredible—her warm mouth and tight throat squeezing my cock. She bobbed up and down, using her hand and her mouth. It was all I could do to not cum immediately.
“Let’s move this to the bed,” said Jim, reaching out to Jane from behind. I had no complaints; I was dying to see her take that monster inside of her. As Jane stood, I reached out and unclipped her bra, revealing her pert tits. Jane’s tits are one of my favorite features, sitting proud on her chest. She always complains that she wants them bigger, but I think they are perfect the way they are. Jane lay back on the bed, and Jim moved between her legs, running his hands up her stomach and over her tits.
Then he took his fingers in the straps of her thong and pulled it slowly down over her hips. He let out a moan as her smooth, wet pussy came fully into view. He then spread her legs, getting a prime view of her warm center, and buried his face there, licking up her slit and across her clit. Jane reached out for me, taking me by the cock and pulled me into her. The view was incredible. My length was fully consumed by Jane’s mouth. Jim continued to work between her legs.
After a couple of minutes, I said, “I want to see you fuck her.” I reached for the box of condoms but realized the futility. There was no way any of ours were going to come close to fitting him. I made a mental note to stock up on some larger sizes.
Fortunately, he had come prepared. I suspected this was not the first time this had happened to him. He pulled a box of magnum XXL from a small bag he’d brought with him and rolled one down his phallus. This was it—what I’d been waiting for. He was going to fuck her, stuffing his huge cock in my wife's tiny pussy. I pulled out of her mouth and moved closer, wanting a front-row seat.
“Lube,” she said, and she was right; there was no way this was going inside her without lube. I reached down for the bottle, and I don’t know what came over me, but I squirted it on him and then found myself reaching out to rub it in. I had the good sense to look him in the eye first, and he gave me a silent assent. I’d never touched another man’s cock before and definitely don’t consider myself gay. Maybe it's bisexual now, or bi-curious (another term I'd discovered in my research)? His cock was harder than I thought, yet still pliable and much warmer—it felt alive under my touch. I was fascinated, but this was not the time to explore further. I reached down and lined him up with Jane’s pussy, which looked far too small to accept him.
Then he was pushing forward, his cock's head splitting her smooth lips apart. She gasped as the initial stretch reached her, her tunnel widening to embrace him. Jim pulled back, and I squirted some more lube where their bodies were joined. He pushed back in around halfway. I had no idea how she was going to get any more in, but to my surprise, she started pushing and grinding against him, all the time moaning with desire. Millimeter by millimeter, his length disappeared inside of her until she was about three-quarters of the way. Then she stopped, and I realized that was as much as she was going to get inside. Jim paused for a brief second before beginning to saw in and out of her, his dick pulsing as it moved in and out of her.
Mesmerized, I watched it go in and out, parting the walls of her flesh. I had never seen anything like it. Instinctively, I reached down on his outstroke with my tongue and licked her clit. Jim thrust again, and I felt his cock against my forehead and nose. I had expected to be repulsed, but that was not the case; it felt good, moving up and down along my skin. I had the desire to try and take him in my mouth, but that would have to wait for later, after the fucking was over. I continued to lick Jane’s clit as Jim pumped and pumped, and within minutes she was gasping and contracting, her legs wobbling as she rose to a massive orgasm. Right as she started cumming, I reached back and took a nipple between my fingers, squeezing tight. This sent her over the edge, and her entire body started to convulse. She orgasmed for what felt like forever before her body stilled, and she was done.
Jim pulled out gently and ripped the condom off of his cock. It was obvious that Jane needed a break; her breathing became ragged as she recovered. I found myself reaching out once again, this time contacting the bare flesh of his cock. I moved my hand up and down, fascinated by how the skin moved along his shaft. He groaned in appreciation.
“Is this OK?” I asked.
"Yeah, man,” he said, “that feels great.”
Then I opened my mouth and took the head of his cock in my mouth. Even with my larger mouth, it filled me completely. I couldn't figure out how Jane managed to get it down her throat. Thankfully, the condom had been latex-free because the taste was not unpleasant. I could barely get any of him in my mouth and nothing in my throat, so I used my hand to pump him up and down, feeling his flesh move under my hand as I did.
I’m getting close, he said after a few minutes of this. I was relieved as my jaw had begun to ache. How do women do this?
“What’s the cumming ettiqute?” He asked—yet another sentence I never thought I’d hear from another guy.
“Cum on my face while he fucks me,” said Jane, “that’s Steve's favorite.”
"OK," said Jim, why don’t you turn over? He flipped her over like she didn’t exist, pulling her head to the edge of the bed. I thought back to his comment about Jane taking him all, and excitement coursed through me. Jane opened her mouth wide, and Jim thrust his cock firmly into her mouth. He got around halfway on the first go, and I could see her throat expand obscenely as his length moved within her. It was fascinating to watch as he sawed back and forth. Jane was gagging and spitting, and I knew she was determined to consume him down to the base.
I reached down and lined my more modest length up with her entrance, penetrating her gently, and now she was being spit-roast again.
“Good girl,” said Jim again. It sounded odd, like a father encouraging a kid, but I let it go. He was three-quarters the way in now as he pushed in and out of Jane’s mouth. No way, I thought; there is no way she’s going to take it. Then he reached down, grabbed her tits, and, using her body as leverage, pushed his cock forward until her lips met it’s base. Jane's throat bulged obscenely as she took him in. I pounded harder and harder, nearing my own climax.
Then Jim roared, “I’m cumming,” and pulled his thick tool out of her mouth. He held it above her head, and Jane opened her mouth wide. Jim stroked himself once, twice, then a third time, and erupted. His load was huge. I wondered if he always came that much or if he’d been deliberately building it up. His first spurt landed on her chest, striping her chin, mouth, nose, and forehead. He then directed his flow to her right cheek, then to her left, before his final spurts covered her forehead and dripped into her hair.
Exhausted, he pulled back, dribbling the last couple of drops into her mouth. That was enough for me. I withdrew from her pussy and added my load to his. I tried to aim for the parts he missed, to see if between us we could cover her entire face. By the time I released seven or so more spurts, I had completely covered her face, leaving her plastered. Her forehead was covered, there was cum in her hair, and both eyes were glued shut.
“You look so beautiful,” I said as I reached down to kiss her, tasting the saltiness of our combined juices on her lips. Jim moved forward, and we both cleaned his cock as he moved it between our lips, licking the last drops from it.
“Man, I said, sitting back; that was incredible. “Do you think he’ll do?”
“Jane laughed, reaching up to wipe some of the cum off of her face.” “Oh yeah, but we may have to wait a while; I’m going to be sore for a week.”
I went to get towels, dousing them with warm water, and began to gently clean Jane’s face, wiping our combined fluid from her face and tits. I didn’t try with the hair; that was going to need washing. Jim must have let himself out halfway through, because when I looked up, it was just the two of us, embracing on our bed.
I looked down at my phone, and there was a message from him.
“Thanks for the amazing time; I hope we can do it again.”
I hoped so too, but now we had to figure out how to introduce him to John.
