Play It Dirty

Play It Dirty

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Camey confronts Antonia about her alleged infidelity to some surprising results…


Camey confronts Antonia about her alleged infidelity to some surprising results…


Submitted: January 07, 2019

A A A | A A A


Submitted: January 06, 2019



Play It Dirty


“I’m telling you, Marty; she’s screwing around on me.”  I shake my aching head in the desolation that eats away inside me from the betrayal by the person I love most in the world. 

The sexy brunette with blond highlights, who’s my best friend that never minces words, fixes me with her doubtful ebony stare.  From the other side of the small table we share at our favorite pub, she says, “I know I didn’t hear that shit right.”

“You did,” I reply in the distasteful bitterness permeating me and sip it down with another whiskey sour.

“Nah, you’re kidding, right?”  Shaking her head, my best friend drinks her usual happy hour gin and tonic to start the weekend with a buzz and maybe a little scissoring with her newest hot pursuit of the week.  Marty has always been such a slutty beaver-muncher yet a fun-loving type preferring variety over monogamy.  No desire has she ever shown toward settling down in domesticated bliss like me even after all the years I’ve known her.  Her self-indulgent way of life gives my ordered one a run for its money at the moment.

“I wish I were.”  I slide my cell phone over to my BFF where I snapped one of several text messages intercepted from my wife Antonia’s phone.  “Here’s the proof.”

Marty cranes her head to read the phone screen.  Swiping to enlarge the image, she squints over it.  She drags her finger across the screen to view the other pics, too.  Marty barely reacts to the back and forth banter Antonia employs with Studmuffn18.  The sum of the exchange says that this mystery guy desires to poke my wife’s tight cunt like a battering ram.  In return, the love of my life responds that she yearns to gag his fat cock down her throat and eat his sweet cum like jam. 

That was only the start of the kink since I discovered more of these saved messenger texts dating back over the last six months that were not the best for us.  In my mind, of course, this is the beginning of the end of an 11-year relationship; two of those being happily married or so I thought up to a few months ago.  The roughest patches to mend concerned our failed attempts at getting pregnant. 

The In vitro fertilization procedures are soul-crushing in getting our hopes up.  The expense in our minds is worth it.  Now, we’ve exhausted every avenue for Antonia to carry our naturally born child.  Nothing works, and more than anything my wife craves a baby.  Not only mourning each loss of a potential child, but I also feel like a failure being unable to grant her only wish.  A hysterectomy years ago robs my chance of ever getting pregnant or carrying a baby since my family shows the trait for being predisposed to developing ovarian cancer.

“I don’t believe it, Camey.”  My friend shakes her head vigorously.  “This just doesn’t sound like Toni.” 

What you must understand is, Antonia’s the outgoing, extreme extrovert.  She befriends strangers wherever she goes.  Genuinely, it seems that she's interested in people.  Nothing makes her more excited than engaging in small talk at parties and other social gatherings.  This behavior aids her in being one of the top sales managers at her company year after year.

In contrast, I am the constant homebody and feel uncomfortable in crowds.  Chatty I am not either even when discussing something specifically of interest to me.  My harmony is found in my sole wish to be left alone in my sanctuary (our house) after a long day at the office.  Being such polar opposites, we attract though.  It pours passion into our lives the sparks that burn when we are in a room together.

The last six months, though?  The embers have cooled.  Misgivings emerge out of my longstanding insecurities over how I married above my level of hotness.  I’m so average in body type but tall, around five foot ten.  My hair is dark.  Unforgettable is my face with murky green eyes some think of as brown depending on the light. 

Now my wife, well, you can say she’s a classic beauty.  Antonia is stacked in all the right places, like a Greek goddess.  Long hair the color of wheat ready for the harvest, flawless skin lightly tanned, and aquamarine eyes of the Caribbean.  The fact this gorgeous creature wants me blows me away.

The other part of it?  Too many nights I spend alone.  I miss my wife who has taken to being in the company of friends more than me at home.  Fearing something amiss, I offer to accompany her on her outings.  Antonia always declines politely saying no spouses allowed.  She seems more distracted of late, stays away from home for longer periods with her “friends.”  After finding the messenger texts, I gather why and whom one of those “friends” might be.

“Well, it is her, Marty,” I insist through gritted teeth not wanting to believe it either.  The unfaithfulness further twists in my soul the way my growing suspicion has.  “I’m telling you she’s fucking cheating on me!”

Marty frowns while pushing my phone back to me, takes a drink of her gin and tonic, and denies, “There’s gotta be some other reason for these texts, girl.  None of this makes any sense much less her sudden interest in a guy.” 

My green eyes swell at her brown ones.  I’m amazed that my BFF still defends my adulterous wife fucking caught in the act!  “Daisydukes808 is her handle.  You read what she said.”

Marty looks at me skeptically with the rise of her blond thinly-shaped eyebrow.  “So now after 11 years with you and two years of those in marital bliss you’re so quick to throw in my face anytime we meet for drinks, Toni all of a sudden want’s some guy’s fat cock?”

I shake my head and hold it as I stare at the table where I settle what’s left of my whiskey sour.  “She told me once that she’s got this fantasy about having, um, sex with a well-hung guy while having sex with me.  Not that she was bi or anything.  Okay, maybe a little curious.  She’s never been with a guy before or feels any attraction to them, uh, much but has been curious about having sex with a real, um, cock.”

“What the fuck?!”  Marty’s eyes get so big I swear they may pop right out of the sockets like brown marbles.  "You think that now she’s living that fantasy with this stud asshole?” 

“Yeah, I do.”  It’s not like Antonia did not have the opportunity.  She frequently travels for work as well.  Antonia meets new people all the time, and it’s difficult to keep up with all the new people she discusses in every major city across the country.  I trust her implicitly up to this point.  With tons of friends, male and female, gay and straight, I have to, or we would have been done a long time ago.

Marty waves at me regaining my attention.  “Get the fuck outta here!  You’re not the easiest bitch to live with, you know.  You’re crabby and introverted.”

“Ouch!”  I wince at those harsh words, but Marty and I have known each other since we were in diapers being more like kindred spirits than friends.  She understands me better than my own sisters and not because we’re both lesbians.  Our bond is deeper than that.  “Damn, I thought you were my friend and supposed to cheer me up!  My life is falling apart here!  I’m losing my woman!  You’re the one with the bright ideas!  Tell me what the hell to do?!”

“Camey, that woman knows you and loves you no matter how bitchy you get.  She’s made you more tolerable than I could ever believe.  She brings out the softer side in you.  Most of all Toni has made you very happy for 11 years.  Eleven!  Sure, she’s stunning and has all kinds of people hitting on her daily, yet you know what?”


Marty gestures towards me.  “Toni ignores all that shit and comes home to your sorry ass faithfully every night.”

I murmur under my breath refusing to believe it.  “Not anymore.”

“Why now?  Huh?”

I clench my hands into fists and glare at my friend.  “She’s mine, dammit!  I just can’t lose her, Marty.  I would do anything… anything not to lose her.  I can’t let her go.”

Marty slams her hand on the table which makes me jump.  “Then fucking don’t.  Butch up, bitch!  Make her see that you mean that shit!”


“Talk to her.  Show her what you found.  Make her fucking explain that shit!  Nothing she says can be any worse than what you already found out, right?”

I look down at the table and sigh.  “What if it is?”

Marty smirks with a naughty glint in her eye that I don’t trust when I glance back at her.  “Grin and fucking bear it, dumbass.  Suck it up that she’s not perfect and neither are you.  If this relationship is salvageable in spite of this, it doesn’t mean there aren’t consequences for her hurting you and breaching your trust, now is there?”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

Marty sighs with the roll of her eyes.  “Fight for keeps, dammit!  Punish her fucking ass!  Playing nice gets you nowhere; so play it my way.  Play it dirty.”

Bewildered, I scratch my head.  “How?!  I don’t have a fucking dick!”

Two average looking guys in denim jeans and graphic t-shirts, sitting close, turn their heads to stare at us.  One of them bites into a pretzel which drops out of his open mouth.  His friend drinks some beer while the rest dribbles down his chin and shirt.  Marty and I are beyond caring what other people think about us.  We’ve learned well to tune the world out.

“But you know how to strap one on and what the fuck to do with it, don’t you?  What are you a bottom or a top?”

I nod slowly with a weak grin.  You bet I fucking do.  I know how to hammer my wife in just the right spot until she begs me to stop, to make her cum so hard on my fingers and tongue, that she would be delirious with joy.  There used to be days of us playing like that in bed.  It’s time to revisit those good ole days.  I do not even remember when they stop.  I will remedy that tonight. 

“I’m a top,” I affirm sitting up straight in my chair.

“Then fucking act like the top dike you are and go get your woman!”

An hour after meeting up with my BFF and coming clean about my suspicions, I stumble through the front door of my house noting a Lexus coupe in the driveway that’s not familiar to me.  I do not expect this.  Antonia’s home!  Culling the buzz from my many cocktails this evening with Marty, the hurt and confusion I’ve been enduring are overruled by flagrant anger at hearing my wife’s lusty cackle. 

Rounding the corner, what do I see?  In the kitchen, Antonia enacts a provocative shimmy which tussles her full breasts.  Her off-the-shoulders dress flares above her knee with the hypnotic sway of her hips.  The tall man behind her grinds on her ass to the beat of punchy throwback music by Bruno Mars playing in the background. 

“And what if I reach under your skirt and rip off your panties?” the dancing stranger inquires to my wife in a seducing tone just over her bare shoulder.

Antonia giggles while adding a shimmy up and down his front with her ass.  “I would shove you down, stuff them in your mouth, and ride your hard dick on the kitchen floor.”

I frown catching her right in the act of seducing some other man in our kitchen.  At my approach, both have the nerve to look up at me with no guilt whatsoever?!  They smile at me!  Smile!  I take a deep breath and mentally count backward as I release the air slowly from my lungs. 

“Oh, hello, honey!” my wife greets as she wipes her hands with a paper towel and swats the man on the ass.  He laughs but continues stirring something steaming in a stainless steel pot on the stove.

Clenching my jaw, I attempt not to be jealous of the affectionate attention Antonia shows this strange man who stands entirely too close to her.  I will not boil at the sexy interchange that I hear so similar to what I find in Antonia's messenger texts with Studmuffn18.  Is this the man who fucks my wife?

“I thought you were going to be out for dinner with Marty tonight?”  Antonia sprints over to me.  With a warm embrace, she also kisses me on the lips.

Almost tightly, I question, “Something wrong with me wanting to spend the night with my wife?”

She grins happily oblivious to my pain.  “Of course not, silly, but you sounded like you were looking forward to it when I spoke to you earlier.”  Leaning forward a little, she whispers, “And, I know how much you don’t care for having company over.”

I try not to bristle, but Antonia pulls away from me with a slight frown.  “What’s the matter, babe?  Bad day at work?” she queries, studying my face that must be giving away my ill mood.  I can never hide anything from her.  Too bad the same cannot be true of her.

Ignoring her question, I gesture to the guy in the kitchen.  “Who is this?”

Antonia hooks her arm through mine and giggles.  “Don’t you remember me talking to you about Pearce?”

I shake my head because she has never told me anything about a handsome ash-blond man or her friendliness with him on such an intimate level.  “No.”

“I’m teaching him how to cook my famous vegetable risotto with lobster bisque.  He’s hoping to try it on someone special tonight.”  She winks at him, and Pearce winks back.  I grit my teeth in the jealousy igniting in me.

Running my hand through my dark hairs, I nearly explode.  “Antonia… we need to talk.”  Somehow, I keep my voice calm.  The edge to it is slight, but I intend to be obeyed as I take her hand and leave the room. 

My wife pulls her hand out of mine and says with her deepening frown, “What’s wrong with you?  We’re in the middle of cooking!  Let me finish and then—”

“I think I got this,” Pearce breaks in cheerily.  “You do what you got to do.”  He waves us on.

“Good.”  That’s all the confirmation I need when I retake Antonia’s hand.  She refuses it or to move.

Her fists rest on her curvy hips when she snaps, “Cam, what the Sam hell has gotten into you?!”

“Clearly not enough of me in you if all you want is a big fat cock to suck on and make you cum,” I shout back.

Antonia’s clear aquamarine eyes widen in incredulity.  Her mouth drops open, but no sound comes from it.

“Yeah, that’s right,” I say smugly, “I know you wanna fat cock to make you cum.  Is Pearce the guy that’s been giving it to you?  Huh?”

My wife shakes her head as I grab her by the arm and squeeze it.  “Don’t fucking lie to me, Antonia.”

“No, Cam!  I’ve never ever cheated on you.  I love you!”  She attempts to touch my face in the distress that runs through my heart.  I snatch my head away from her touch because I can’t fucking believe that she would think to lie to my face like this.  Did she think I was a dope or something?

“Is that what you think while choking down that guy’s fucking cum?” I scream with tears in my green eyes.  Anger writhed in me like a bile poisoning every part of my body.  The wicked hurt of her betrayal stabs me in the heart the more she talks, and I stare at her trying to lie to me although it’s clear she’s been caught.

“You don’t understand!”

“Then explain it!  Now!  I know it’s your fantasy.  You told me as much years ago!”

Antonia tosses back her flaxen hair lightly curled in waves brushing the curve of her breast.  Visible rises protrude at the center of the round globes trapped in a strapless bra.  Involuntarily, I lick my dry lips when I snatch my focus back to her lying eyes. 

“That’s dialogue for the short novel Pearce and I write together for the erotica website we’re both on.  I’ve told you about Booksiesilk, remember?  Dammit, I invited you to read the stuff I post, but you never do!”

Another man, with a red tinge to his brown hair, is as handsome as the other one in the kitchen.  He comes out of the bathroom and rubs his hands together, saying, “Mmm, something smells fantastic!  I’m starving!”

This dark-haired man halts when he sees my wife and I staring at each other heatedly.  He smiles though. 

Both my eyebrows are up, while I glare at Antonia in confusion.  I await answers to the meaning of this latest wrinkle. 

“This is Greg, Pearce’s partner,” Antonia says with the purse of her cherry lips, “Greg, meet my wife, Camey.”

I blink more than once as I process what she tells me.  When the hand comes out between the dark-haired man and me, I take it absentmindedly.  Greg pumps my hand in a firm shake before releasing it. 

“Nice place you have here,” he says with a wave around and smiles in friendliness.  “Toni tells my hubby and I that you’re the one who does all the decorating.  Very eclectic taste.”

“Thank you,” I reply in mild confusion and then turn to my wife alone.  “Partner?  You’re fucking a colon crusader?”

Greg’s watery-blue eyes bulge almost out of his head.  “Excuse me?”

Pearce stalks over to us from the kitchen with a scowl.  “Now wait a goddamn minute!  It’s all fantasy and what if, sister.  Toni and I would never actually fuck each other!  I love my husband!”

Greg glowers at Pearce, yet asks quietly, “Do you fantasize about fucking Toni?”

“Thinking about it and actually doing it are two different things.  I have plenty of healthy fantasies I never act on just like you over Chris Pine.”

Greg backs away to the couch and falls into a seat.  Pearce follows and sits beside him.  “Bae, I’d never screw around with her.  I swear!  We’re friends; nothing else.”

“But you want to.  I’ve watched you two.  It’s there; the sexual tension between you.”

Pearce begins to protest, but Greg only raises his hand and inquires, “If Toni asked you right now to fuck her, and I said it was okay, would you do it?”

Pearce nervously rubs his forehead as he tries to see Greg’s face.  “Yes, but that’s not all of it.  I would want you to watch before joining in.  I would want you to fuck me while I fuck her.”

Greg glances up at his husband.  The look in his eyes is one I think I recognize and fully understand as it also rules me.  The sound of a zipper follows.  Greg’s hand pulls out the fat anal impaler of Pearce, hardening before our eyes as he strokes it with reverence.

“You want to fuck her right now, don’t you?” Greg probes, yet before he’s given a reply, he slobbers down on his husband’s prick.  Regardless of the audience, the dark-haired man owns that beef in how he shoves it down his throat. 

Pearce’s only answer is to groan at the slurping and sucking happening on his pole.  He stares down at his man gobbling his cock with yearning and worship combined.  He strokes his husband’s dark hair like one would a loving pet. 

When Greg frees his mouth of the hard length, he struggles for breath.  “Show me how you would fuck her!  Show me!” he shouts.

Both men remove their shirts.  Pearce holds Greg’s head where he wants it with both hands gripping his hair and head.  He plunges the whole length into Greg’s mouth ending with his face pressed in Pearce’s crotch for several seconds.  His hip action alternates and becomes a rapid upward piston of flesh filling Greg’s mouth.  Pearce does not stop as the dark-haired man grips his thighs flexing with the effort.  It causes Pearce’s grunts while Greg slobbers all up and down the pole like a man in a frenzy of lust. 

Greg takes the thick appendage stretching his mouth with enthusiasm.  The gags follow several times, but he keeps sucking and licking his man’s candy stick.  He helps his husband cum with the bobbing of his head into Pearce’s crotch while humming groans of pleasure. 

“Oh!  Fuck! Yes!” Pearce hisses before he stiffens, tossing his blond head back as the veins stand out on his neck and dick.  The first jerk of his orgasm overcomes him, and he rocks his hips, “Oh, fuck! I’m coming!”

Pearce’s whole body jerks until he flops back on the couch.  His head lolling back on the sofa, his face and neck flush as he catches his breath.  Greg releases the fat cock as it plops to the side.  It remains a decent size overall.  Not through, Greg takes long sweeping licks of the slackening wand with his tongue to keep it stimulated and from shrinking further.

How in the world do I come to watch this live gay porno going down in my own home of our respectable neighborhood?  I admit that as astonished as I am by the turn of events I could not possibly calculate in a zillion years, I cannot stop gaping at these passionate men.  I want to.  The incredible orgasm Greg drives Pearce to as he watches Antonia and I stand apart from them is shocking but hotter than the flames of hell. 

This situation is twisted beyond my comfort zone.  It doesn’t change how the naughtiness wins me over, though.  How dirty; absolutely filthy and moist I make my panties watching them like a peeping tom.  Perhaps it’s all the emotions of anger, fear, and surprise running through me or the fact I swear I smell my wife’s wet finger warmer beside me.  Maybe all of it acts to fuel the fires burning inside me clamoring for release one way or another. 

However, it is not those feelings alone brewing inside me that edge me away from my control.  By the corner of my eye, I witness the reaction of these altering events on Antonia.  One of her little hands with round fingernails painted cherry red like her lips vanish into the “v” of her bountiful cleavage.  Promptly, her fingers tweak her own nipple, making it expand with additional prominence for all to see.  Pouty lips part, a small moan drifts from her.  It's the impassioned one I love when I’m teasing her spine before cupping her ass.

Nibbling my lip in a mixture of envy and lust, I want to bite those lovely pebbles and know her reaction is because of me.  Antonia’s other hand slips beneath the front of her dress.  It shifts around her cooch.  Rummaging beyond her panties, those fingers roam, forcing her legs in a wider stance.  So sodden she is, I hear the in and out motions, the wet suction of her jerking arm venturing to make herself cum where she stands.

The hunger rules Antonia; the whimpers of yearning escape her mouth.  If I don’t take advantage of this moment, I'll regret it later.  Frankly, I’m done with regrets anyway.  I drop my trousers and panties and dig out my newest purchase from my favorite tote I dropped on the floor near the door.  The dual man-root I lick is called “Dingus” and guarantees to satisfy any orifice that one seeks to dominate. 

How turned on I am by these men and Antonia as I fit the dildo in place at my entrance after lubing it well.  I gasp at the fit of it dangling from its holster once strapped on and secured around my thighs by adjustable leather buckles.  Snugger than I’m used to, but I cannot help giving Antonia her every desire.  So fixed on the men, she does not see me come behind her and take over by shoving her fingers away. 

Her copious heat between her thighs makes me want to drop to my knees and taste her.  Instead, I forego my wants for hers and coat my middle fingers with her secretions.  My hands are larger than her dainty digits and longer in how they now delve deep to survey her need.  I will make it build before I’m done.

After years of learning her body, I prod what I desire and suck on her neck.  Antonia’s face flushes as she rocks hard against my domineering hand while rubbing her ass against the massive dick at her bum. 

“Oooh, Cam!” she shouts, “O-ooo-ooo!”

In the meantime, with every stroke of my fingers by one hand, the other unknots the tie of her dress.  “Who’s kitty is this?  Huh?  Whose?” I whisper at her ear, nibble the lobe as she tilts her head back. 

Her dress falls open, and my hand reaches under her bra to grope her titty.  Antonia’s loud moan gathers the attention of our guests.  Now my wife and I have the floor.  The men stare with wide grins as they take off the rest of their clothes and sit in their birthday suits with thighs wide and stroke each other’s excreting eels.

“No answer?” I growl as I snatch her roughly by the hair.  I force her to bend over, lift her dress, and rip her panties.  Grabbing her ass cheek, I separate it to accommodate Dingus.

“Eeeeeeeee!  Cam, oooooooh!” she bays while being jarred forward by the first planting of only the tip.  I groan with the easing effort as I too feel the effects of my actions.

Each drill of my hips opens her up more as I plant Dingus deeper and deeper inside her.  I can work no more of it and start to really move.  My wife reaches out to the men stroking hard poles.  She wants more.  Great!  I’ll give it to her as I see the men come at her gesture.  She’s grunting too much to make a sentence anyone understands. 

Pearce’s eyes glitter down at Antonia poised to take his fat cock in her hand.  Inches out of reach, he stands, hesitant as he looks up at me.  I drill my wife’s ass I slap.

The sharp jarring movements make her bark with obscenities.  “Fuck that ass, baby!  Fuck me good!”

I nod wordlessly with sweat pouring in my eyes.  What she wants, is what she’ll get as I punish this sexy ass opened right up for me!  Pearce smiles as if reading my thoughts.  He then glances back to his husband eying me with lust.  Greg nods to him while licking his lips. 

Stepping closer puts Pearce in front of my wanton wife.  She laughs at how Pearce makes his meat bounce in front of her face.  Antonia must bob for his cock the best she can.  Eventually, he lets her capture it in her hot mouth.  Antonia’s muffled moans mingle with my grunts.  I can fuck her like this all day since I do not come without clitoral manipulation, and I’m careful not to touch it.  However, this stimulation with Dingus is a wonder for me to feel closer to my wife.

“Yes!  Oh!  That’s it; right there!  Don’t stop!” Pearce implores as he reaches behind him to his husband who pounds his ass.  Greg’s eyes lock with mine.  We all flow in the same current and motion.  It’s glorious in the rush I feel. 

“Fuck! I’m cumming!” Pearce cries.

Antonia screams as her legs give way to the shudders that take her to her knees.  The cock at her face pumps a wad of cream at it.  She quickly covers the fat cock with her mouth and sucks him dry of anything else he delivers.  Antonia releases him while panting and fingering some jism off her face.  She eats it with a moan, and Greg scrambles to lick her finger and then the rest of his husband’s cum off her face.  When clean she looks at me delighted until she eyes the thick new toy dangling between my thighs.  I wave the mass at her.

“I want to fuck it while Pearce fucks my ass,” my dirty slut begs, and when she looks up at me with those eyes full of craving desire, I cave.  I’ll give her the world for her just to look at me that way always. 

Taking off the remainder of my clothes I lay down on the rug and command, “But first, let me taste that twat while you lick your ass off this cock like the dirty whore you are.”

Antonia removes the rest of her clothes before she crawls over to me and turns around with her head facing Dingus and her sweet pussy leveled over my face.  I hear her moaning as she licks and sucks the cock.  Taking my tongue deep, I dive right into her cleft, lavishing her with my excitement at her arousal I’ve caused at least in part, and drinking her essence down as my reward. 

My lips love her cute hiding clit.  The “v” of my first two fingers unveil Antonia’s swollen cherry.  I pinch it between my lips and flick it circles with the tip of my tongue.  Groaning in my lust, I suck her until she shudders with her climax so hard.  My wife screams.  Her collapse on top smothers me in her juices the way I love.  I rock Dingus down her throat, forcing her to gag on it while moaning. 

When strong enough she lifts herself and gasps for breath.  I breathe as fast as my heart pumps.  Carefully, Antonia turns around, plays with Dingus at her entrance before she takes control of slowly fucking herself toward her next orgasm.  She bends over me, eyes on mine, that are filled with love and lust at play.

I grab each side of her head and reach for two fists full of her hair as I press her soft body onto mine.  We kiss and moan for I am sure she can taste herself.  She’s delicious!  When I release her mouth, Antonia’s grinning with excitement that I have not seen in a long time.  It thrills me to follow this course with her, to take this risk and realize that I am as turned on as she is. 

My fingers rub her tender clit between us.  Her hips halt and let Dingus slip out as she jerks in sensitivity.  “Whose kitty is this?” I ask.

“Y-yours!” she stammers without hesitation.

Grinning very pleased, I command while gazing at the two men watching us, “Fuck her twat while I play with her clit.”

Pearce slams into my wife's cunt with a groan as Antonia hollers and rolls her eyes to the back of her head.  “Oh-oh-oh my God, Cam!  Yessssss!  Y-yours!  All y-yours!  Always!”

Already she comes at my hand and so does the cock in her juicy pussy that spasms.  No dick can fight it, and he jerks spilling his seed in my wife.

“Fuck!” Pearce exclaims as he pulls out.  I feel the cum drip down on me when I get another idea.

Not done with her I start to fuck my wife with Dingus in her greedy twat to her shock from beneath her.  I grab her by each of her cheeks and force her down to me, reminding her who is in control, and what is mine as I stick my fingers in her other hole.  “You like that don’t you, you dirty little whore!” 

“Ahhh!  Yes!” Antonia shouts with each drive inside her.  She grips the rug on the floor trying her best to hold on.

I spread her cheeks wider, and invite, “Put a dick in her ass!”

Pearce, who’s sprung again, the horny dog, comes to my aid.  Eagerly, he makes his way inside her ass I’ve warmed up for him.  “Shit, girl, you are so tight!” Pearce exclaims, slowly pumping in and out of her ass.  Each pass was more profound and harder than the last until he was hard as a rock, grabbing her ass and relentless.  I work in her pussy when he files out her bum like one machine in search of the perfect goal.  Feeding off Pearce and my wife, I soon drive up as he drills in.  It isn’t long before Greg starts pounding his husband in the ass. 

Eyes roll shut, back arches, Antonia grunts now, willingly giving herself over to the double penetration forcing her hair to bounce around her face and boobs to swing above me.  I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful in her pleasure I give.  It entices me to increase it, to fuck her harder.  I love every pulsing minute of this act and am committed to the end.

Now Greg, Pearce, Antonia and I fuck each other as one, groaning at our riotous decadence.  We are wild in the one great mass of gyrating flesh we become.  Each meshing in and out of every hole, clapping, sweating, kissing, and sucking, we pummel our way to the peak.  We nourish off the debauchery buffet of our wicked enterprise no longer caring for decorum or moral high ground.  All of us poise ourselves for the grand climax to wash us away in the epicurean grind of our lasciviousness.

We lay connected exhausted in a tangle of limbs, stroking each other, soothing the sexual release we’ve all desired this night.  That is until my wife sits up with shock.  She glares down at me and whispers, “Oh, my God, Cam, we didn’t use a condom?  What if I’m—”

“Shhh,” I soothe knowing that I could not possibly think of every probability tonight of the outcome I had in mind.  “Then we have two gifts conceived tonight.”

Antonia blinks down at me in confusion.  “Two?”

I nod with my smile in satisfaction.  “That we love each other still and have something to show for it.”

Nine months later, our Hope is born, and that’s just what we name her.


© Copyright 2019 Amy F. Turner. All rights reserved.

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