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Copyright © 2017 by Guy New York
Published by QNY
Cover design by Guy New York
Interior design by Pronoun
Distribution by Pronoun
About The Author
More by Guy New York
“I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT WAS your ex-boyfriend,” I said. I was fucking my wife slowly on our bed, my cock sliding in and out of her cunt as she writhed beneath me. We had been at the bar for a few hours and were just drunk enough to want to screw, but not so plastered that we couldn’t. She was nearly ten years younger than me, and while I could mostly keep up with her, it was often a challenge.
“Why are you talking about him? Just keep fucking me,” she moaned, pulling me down and kissing my mouth.
“I don’t know,” I said, slowing down my rhythm as I looked into her eyes. “I guess I was just wondering if he was the one with the huge cock.”
“Do you really want to know that? Now?”
I don’t know what had gotten into me, but for some reason, I couldn’t shake the thought. I had overheard her talking to a girlfriend years earlier, and the sound of her voice as she talked about him made me instantly concerned. And when we bumped into him at the bar I couldn’t help but wonder.
“I’m just curious,” I said as I held still. I looked down and saw her pussy lips open around me, and I groaned in pleasure. She was so pretty, and she felt so good, but for some reason, I couldn’t stop myself. “So, was it?”
“Yes,” she whispered as she tried to push back onto me. I held her hips steady, though, just barely moving as I leaned up and watched her. Her eyes were wide, and I could tell she just wanted to come. After five years of marriage, I knew her body better than my own.
“How big was it?” I asked, leaning in and kissing her cheek. I pushed all the way inside her, feeling her open once more.
“I don’t know. It was fucking big, though,” she said, feeling me start to speed up once more. “I couldn’t even fit my hand around it.”
“Oh god,” I said, fucking her faster and harder. “How long? Tell me how long it was.”
“He said it was nine inches. I don’t know, but don’t stop.”
I was instantly picturing her, just as she was, but with his thick cock inside her, fucking her on our bed, and it almost pushed me over the edge. I was so close to coming there was no holding back, but I had to keep going.
“Do you miss it?” I asked, biting my lip as I fucked her as hard as I could. “Do you ever miss that huge cock inside you?”
“Oh fuck,” she said closing her eyes; I knew her answer in an instant. She was lost, stuck in her memory, and she started to clench around me.
“Tell me,” I growled, slamming into her. “Tell me if you miss that cock.”
“Yes,” she screamed, “Oh god, it was amazing. It was so fucking big!” And then she was coming and so was I, my fist around my cock as I pulled out and shot my load onto her stomach. Her whole body shook as she lay there, her fingers on her clit, as I jerked off over her body. I had been close to coming inside her, but after years of arguing over the wet spot, she started asking me to pull out. It was easier to wipe up than that to have to deal with it dripping out of her for the next two days.
She looked beautiful, though, my come on her thighs and belly, and she came for longer than seemed possible. Her whole body tightened as she clenched around her hand, and she moaned and screamed out her release over and over again.
“Holy shit,” she said, finally coming down from her high. “What got into you? I can’t believe you asked me that.”
“It was hot,” I said. “I don’t know where it came from, but it was so hot. Was it really that big, or were you just fucking with me?”
“I don’t know. It’s been years, but probably. It was huge. Does it make you jealous?”
“Hey, you married me, right?” I laughed it off, trying to figure out how I did feel. I was jealous, envious even, but more than anything I was amazed at how much it had turned me on. We hardly talked about our exes at all, but for some reason, this guy hit a nerve. Maybe it was seeing him in person. I rolled over next to her and brushed her hair back from her face, watching her chest rise and fall.
“And that was really him at the bar? It’s weird that we bumped into him.”
“I haven’t seen him in years. He didn’t look too good, though. Like he was still out partying too much and not taking care of himself. It’s sort of a waste really.” She turned and faced me too, tracing her finger along my cheek.
“I haven’t seen you that turned on in a long time. Do you really miss that?” I asked, bracing myself for the answer.
“No. I mean, I don’t miss him at all. I liked the big dick, but I think it was mostly that you were asking me–and fucking me–and it was just so much. Does that make sense?”
“Did you picture it, though? Just now, when I asked you if you wanted it again, your eyes nearly glazed over and you were coming in a second.”
She looked down and blushed, and it was clear what the answer was.
“It was just hot to think about,” she finally said.
We lay in bed for a long time, our breathing slowly returning to normal as we stared up at the ceiling, reveling in our satisfied bodies. We have good sex, but it hadn’t been that good in a long time. Between work, yoga, the gym, and our friends, life had become hectic without us trying, and sex had started to lose out to other things. When we did fuck it was nice. We felt connected and we felt close, but as I held her hand that night, with images of her ex running through my mind, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a while: I was scared, I was nervous, and I was anxious. But I was also still hard.
I HAVE A JOB THAT only requires a lot of me for brief periods of time. In between busy sessions I often have hours, sometimes days when there simply isn’t much for me to do. I sit at my computer and read the news. I check my email every five or ten minutes, and I update Facebook, trying to avoid getting into fights over politics with my in-laws. I take long lunch breaks, and I talk to anyone else in the office who happens to also be free. But most of all, I think. I lean back in my chair and let my mind drift where it might, flitting from one thing to another.
The next day was a slow one, and with nothing to do but drift around in my head, I spent a lot of time remembering the sex we had the night before. No matter how hard I tried to shake it, I kept picturing her and her ex, and I grew hard too many times to count. It didn’t make any sense, and there was real anger mixed in with my excitement. If that asshole had even tried to kiss her at the bar I would have punched him in the face, but the thought of her bending over and taking his huge cock was turning me on something fierce.
“Hey love,” I said when she answered the phone.
“What’s up?” She was most likely busier than I was.
“I was just thinking about last night,” I said, my voice shallow and deep.
“Peter, I have work,” she said. “And since when do you call me up for phone sex?”
“It’s not that, I was just thinking of you and wanting to hear your voice. Can’t a husband just call his wife in the middle of the day to see how she’s doing?”
The truth was, I didn’t know why I called her. All I knew was that I was still turned on, still confused, and incredibly bored. Her voice sent a shiver down my leg and elicited a twitch in my pants. It was almost as if I had called her simply because she was on my mind and it was impossible not to. When I heard her voice, I heard her coming. I remembered her eyes closed and the look on her face as she thought of him.
“Of course you can, I’m sorry, I’m just having a rough day. Marcy is out, and I have to cover all of her shit today as well. It’s good to hear your voice too.”
“Would you fuck him again?” I blurted out before I could think better of it.
“Peter!” There was real shock in her voice, and no matter how hard I tried, I didn’t hear the excitement from the night before. “Look, let’s talk more tonight okay, but I can’t do this now. I’m sorry if you’re jealous, but I have to get back to work. I love you, okay?”
“I love you too,” I mumbled. “Oh, and Jessica? I’m not jealous.”
“Bye,” she said, and I was left with the receiver in my hand and my dick still hard in my pants. What the fuck had gotten into me?
I was distracted the rest of the day, and it was all I could do to focus at all. It was impossible for me to jerk-off, even in my own office. There were simply too many people opening doors and poking their heads in for me to risk it. I grew hard and soft over and over again, and the more I tried to think of something else, the more I couldn’t help it. I pictured her on her back with his thick cock inside her, and she was looking into my eyes, asking me if it was just what I wanted. The thought almost made me come, and I had to go back to reading the Times to get rid of my hard on. This is completely insane, I thought as I tried everything to keep myself distracted.
Around four in the afternoon I checked my e-mail for what must have been the fifth time that hour. There was a note from Jessica with a subject line that read “about your question.”
My heart skipped a beat, but I opened it without pause. What was she getting at?
“The answer is no. I wouldn’t sleep with him again. Definitely not him.”
I read it a few times in a row, wondering what I was missing. It was simple enough, but what made her write it? Did she think I was worried? Of course, I was, but that didn’t make sense. On the fifth reading, I paused once again and felt the familiar twitch in my jeans. “Definitely not him.” She already said no, so why that line again? Did it mean that she was open to someone else? That hadn’t even occurred to me, but suddenly it was all I could think about. Not him, but maybe someone else? Who could she mean?
“So, not the ex,” I wrote back. “That’s good, I don’t like him at all. But you do miss certain things?”
I hit send before I could think about it. This was insane, but there was nothing to do but wait. She wrote back almost instantly.
“Sure. Well, maybe just one thing. One very big thing.”
It was my turn to stare in awe once more, and any chance of me getting work done that day was gone. My wife of five years just told me she missed having a big cock inside her, and instead of calling her up and asking for a divorce, I was struggling to hide a hard on the size of Nebraska. At least, that’s what I thought she was saying. Fuck, this was confusing.
“Well, I’m always open to discussing alternatives,” I finally wrote. We were both on our company email, and while it was unlikely that anyone would care, I wanted to be careful. There was no way I was going to write something blatant, just to have some asshole from IT give me funny looks in the break room.
“Interesting,” she wrote back. “I just assumed it was a one-time thing. But I’m happy to discuss. In detail.”
It was nearly five o’clock, but I was going crazy if I had to wait any longer. And email wasn’t cutting it anymore. Rather than call her up and try to get her attention on the phone, I texted her. There was no more room for subtlety.
“Are you saying you’d fuck someone else?” You can’t get much more direct than that.
“Are you saying you want me to?” she wrote back.
Shit. That wasn’t fair. Of course, I suppose I deserved it. I was trying to get her to admit something without offering her much by way of assurance. I was jealous, but I was also curious. What did she actually want?
“I don’t know,” I wrote back, settling for honestly. “But the thought has been turning me on all day.”
“Want me to fuck someone at work and then come home and tell you about it?”
I nearly dropped my phone when I got the text, and it took everything I had not to call her and bitch her out over the phone. It was one thing to fantasize about it, but that was way too soon. What the hell was she thinking? Just because I thought it was interesting didn’t mean I wanted her to go ahead and do something. At least not that quickly.
“That was a joke, by the way.” The text caught me by surprise, but the relief that hit me was overwhelming. It was completely unlike her, and I realized instantly how stupid I had been. I was the one pushing her. I was the one asking dumb questions. I shook my head as I packed up my things to leave, wondering what the hell had gotten into me. It wasn’t until I was almost in my car that I realized mixed in with the relief was just the slightest touch of regret.
I ORDERED INDIAN FOOD, BOUGHT a nice bottle of wine, and lit a candle in the bedroom. If I was in trouble, I figured it might make up for it, and if I was in for a surprise then I might as well be prepared. She would most likely be exhausted from working late, and the hot food and rich wine would hopefully do the trick.
Our dinner was nice and quiet, and we sipped the wine with soft music in the background without mentioning a thing about our conversation earlier. In some ways, it was like it never happened, and for a while it was perfect. Our lives were completely normal; she leaned over and squeezed my hand as she thanked me for dinner. I kissed her forehead as we packed the dishes into the dishwasher, and by the time she crawled into bed, I was ready to accept it had just been a dream.
“So, do you want to hear about my work friend?” she asked, pulling the covers up and looking at me with a glint in her eye.
“You mean the one you fucked before coming home tonight?” I could totally play this game. She nodded and bit her lip, and suddenly it was very warm in the bedroom. I pushed the blankets back down and sat up in bed, looking at her through the candle light. She lay down on her back and slid one hand along the hemline of her panties.
“Of course, Jessica,” I said playfully. “Why don’t you tell me all about it.”
She closed her eyes, and for a moment I was worried she might stop. Any second she would laugh and would that be worse than if she continued?
“I didn’t really give him much time to think, but I suppose that’s how it happens best. It’s not like he doesn’t always flirt with me, but I don’t think he expected me to ever do anything. Guys are always like that. They flirt and flirt, but when you take them up on it, they freeze.”
“What did you say?” I asked, my own hand sliding down to my pajama bottoms.
“I told him the truth. That I heard he had a great cock, and I was curious to see if the rumors were true. And if he knew how to use it.”
I felt my stomach clench, but there was no way I could stop her. Her hand was fully between her legs, and her fingers were quickly circling her clit.
“What did he do?” I asked, wrapping my hand around my cock.
“He closed the door to my office and walked around my desk. I was shocked that he was so direct, but without a word, he pulled me up off my chair and pushed me to my knees on the floor. You want to know if I have a big cock? he asked me. I just nodded and then it was out and in my face. He wrapped his hand around it, and without even thinking I opened my mouth.”
“Oh fuck, Jess,” I moaned, watching as she slid her panties off her hips and threw them onto the floor. Her t-shirt followed next, along with my pants. As she kept talking I climbed between her thighs, rubbing my cock against her cunt before sliding inside her in one thrust.
“It was so thick and hard, and I sucked him as best I could, still kneeling on the floor. I don’t know what I was thinking–I guess not much–but I started to moan and beg as he got even harder in my mouth. Do you want me to fuck you, bitch? he growled. I just nodded and choked as I looked up into his eyes.”
I started to fuck her hard, whispering her name into her ear as I told her not to stop.
“He pulled me up Peter, and just bent me over my desk. He didn’t even take off my clothes. He just lifted my skirt, pushed my panties to one side, and before I could say anything his big cock was pushing into me, filling my cunt like I was a teenager again. Oh god, I started to come so quickly. Almost as soon as he was all the way inside me, I started to come; I begged him to keep fucking me.”
“Oh fuck, I’m going to come,” I moaned, my balls tightening as I pictured it all in vivid detail.
“He fucked me so hard,” she moaned, biting my shoulder and pulling me deeper into her. “Come for me Peter. Come in my cunt, just like Paul did.”
And then I was done. I screamed her name as I shook, and she clenched around me as she came too. For the first time in years I didn’t pull out, and I forgot how much I loved the feeling of coming deep within her. I kissed her mouth and held her tightly as our orgasms rolled through our bodies, and I was full of shame, guilt, and so much excitement I couldn’t contain it.
She came for what felt like hours, her body slick with sweat, and her voice a ragged strain of chords that shook with each thrust. I kissed her nose and her cheeks as she rubbed my shoulders, and when I finally looked down at her she was smiling. I leaned up on my hands as I pulled my cock from within her, and I stared in awe at her come soaked cunt.
“Holy shit, that was hot,” I said.
“I was worried you’d be upset,” she said, winking at me.
“Right, because I believed every second of it. Come on, it was hot, but it was so not something you would ever do. You don’t even let me come in your pussy. Well, not usually,” I said, pushing two fingers inside the sticky mess.
“Hey, that’s not fair. For all you know I could be lying and cheating on you left and right. Maybe I really did fuck Paul today. Maybe he did come in me, and I just let you do it to cover up my tracks.”
“Ah, that was smart of you,” I said with a laugh. “Now I’ll just assume this is all me, and I’ll never know better.”
“Exactly,” she said with a grin.
I rolled off her before getting up and grabbing a warm wet cloth from the bathroom. I brought it back and handed it to her, watching as she held it between her legs, catching my come as it leaked out from within her. I suddenly remembered why she started asking me to pull out, and our real life returned in an instant.
“It was still super hot, “I said. “I don’t think you’ve ever told me a story like that before.”
“I didn’t know you wanted one,” she said. “Last night was a total surprise. It’s not like you’re super jealous, but still. I didn’t think you’d want to know that stuff about my ex. Or Paul,” she said with another wink.
“Do you even work with a guy named Paul?”
“Maybe. You’ll never know,” she said with a pout that instantly required me to kiss her. “I like this new fantasy, though. Or at least I like how hard you fuck me when you’re thinking it. Are you sure you’re not jealous?”
“Of course I am. Completely and totally, but it doesn’t seem to matter. In fact, for some reason, it just turns me on even more. Maybe something is wrong with me.”
“It’s only a fantasy,” she whispered, taking my hand and bringing my fingers up to her lips.
“So, you made it all up?” I asked, teasing her once again.
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.”
It was my turn to laugh, but it was true. It was a good story, and we fucked harder than we had in ages. We were talking, we were smiling, and we were having fun again. I turned over and pulled the towel out from between her legs as I stared at the small patch of hair above her cunt. For a moment I pictured it all over again and it was enough.
“Did he really come inside you?” I asked.
“So deep,” she moaned as she rolled back on top of me. “Do you want to hear what he did next?”
Seconds later I was hard once more and she was guiding me back inside her.
“Tell me,” I moaned. “Tell me what else he did.”
THE REST OF THE WEEK