Today is my birthday. My wife offers to edge me personally, and keep me there all day.
“Or do you want me to call one of my lovers?” she asks.
“Call a lover,” I reply.
Lifting her phone, she calls a young man (probably twenty-two) who is the son of the owner of the company she works for. He approves his liaison with a hotwife saying it is good experience for him. As for her, she really gets off on his energetic approach to lovemaking.
“He’ll be here soon,” she says, signaling me to bend over her knee. “Drop your pants and we’ll get you ready.”
Stroking my ass with one hand, she milks my balls with the other. Then, she smacks each cheek until they are red.
“Now get between my legs and eat your birthday cake,” she commands.
I do this until my neck hurts.
Finally, she orders, “I want to see you in your black thong and tank top. Go upstairs and change.”
Dutifully, I ascend the stairs, find the underwear in the bureau and my phone rings. It is my friend, Bob, who is also my wife’s lover, wishing me a happy birthday. I tell him what is happening.
Excited, “I’ll be right over,” he says.
I can hear them downstairs already going at it. He is a strong, young man who plays on his college football team. Descending the stairs, I see she is kneeling over the back of the couch presenting her pussy which he is fucking like the Energizer Bunny, both of them quivering with orgasms and screaming delightfully as he just keeps on going and going and going, while she clutches and bangs her head against the soft fabric.
I take my seat and watch. Bob comes in and stands beside me.
Regarding us, she gasps to the young man, “Ok, loverboy, that was great.” She fondles his cock and kisses his mouth. “You can go now.”
“Can we do this again soon?” he implores.
“Certainly, I’ll call you. Now go.”
He walks out barely noticing us. My thong is soaking wet. I get up. Bob moves toward her.
“Don’t even think about it!” she explodes. “Both of you are way past what he just did to me.”
Spreading her legs, she gestures for Bob to clean her up, and for me to sit next to her where she twirls her fingers around my dripping crotch and anus bringing me expertly to the edge.
“Did you enjoy your birthday, my dear?”
“Yes,” I choke, barely in control.
Bob, looking up, mouth and face covered with cum, pleads, “When do I get my turn?”
“When you deserve it,” she snaps.
—
Nowadays, Bob is obsessed with my wife. He calls daily and begs to see her. She can tell by his breathing he is masturbating talking to her, but she strings him along like he’s wearing a collar, then relents, telling him to drop by. Prepared, in my chair, I know this is going to be good.
Wearing the black corset and stockings I gave her for her bulls, she commands Bob, “Undress and bend over the arm of the couch, and show me your ass.”
Smacking it a few times, she ties off his balls with some cord, then secures his hands behind his back, lubes his anus, fastens on a strap-on and thrusts it all the way in. He squeals. As she fucks him, his cock straightens out, streaming pre-cum as the dildo rubs against his prostate.
“Please stop, Mistress!” he pleads.
Backing off, she withdraws, inserts a large butt plug into him and goes to the kitchen, bringing back a hard wooden stool.
“Sit!” she instructs.
He obeys, driving the butt plug further up his ass so that his cock stands up like a nail. Facing me in my chair, smiling and winking, she straddles it into her totally. He bleats with pleasure and pain as she bounces up and down mercilessly. I think he’s about to pass out. Instead, he begins to explode, crying helplessly.
She dismounts, immediately ruining his orgasm, unties him and, wagging her finger, exclaims, “Now go home, you naughty boy!”
Gathering his clothes, he slumps away.
“I can’t believe what you did to him,” I say. “He’s going to want more, God help him.”
“And you’ll have to watch,” she adds.
I nod.
“He deserved it.”
I nod again.
Drawing off my thong, she strokes my engorged and swollen cock, taking it in her mouth, sucking and laving its head gently until I see stars.
—
Tonight, her number one bull is visiting. It is dark outside and only the lamp above the couch is lit. She awaits him wearing only a violet kimono and the glittering, gold hotwife anklet. I am standing naked in the shadows of a corner, my ass still stinging and sore from her getting me ready. She even made me take a pill to enhance my stimulation. Greeting him at the door, she brings him to the couch.
“Let’s take it slow this time,” he says.
She agrees, drops her kimono and he undresses. Standing before him, viewing his tall, muscular body and huge member, filled with desire, she puts it between her thighs just below her pussy so that its head protrudes through the back of her legs. Reaching behind, she fondles the tip pulling the shaft back and forth along her slippery pussy. Glancing at me, noticing I am erect and dripping, she almost loses it.
“Wash me,” he says.
“Where have you been?”
“You know I have others.”
Going to the kitchen, she returns with a basin of warm water, some bath gel, a large natural sponge and towel to wash his throbbing, engorged penis, swollen balls, crotch and anus. After drying everything, she sucks the head of his massive cock, rubbing it against the inside of her cheeks while licking the glans. He picks her up and, moving to my empty chair, sets her down so that her legs are spread open on the arms.
“I’m going to make you beg for it,” he says.
Her eyes wide, she opens her legs even further. Kneeling, he fingers her clit and inserts three fingers to prepare her. Then, rotating his cock’s huge, red, mushroom head, he slowly pierces halfway her swollen, lovely, welcoming vagina. She is gripping her hair, quivering, and gasping for breath. He pulls out and caresses her breasts, placing the enormous length of his penis lubed with pre-cum between them, going all the way to her gaping mouth which he fucks, tight balls beating against her chest, until she gags.
Returning to her pussy, he penetrates two thirds, barely moving. She begins to convulse and contract around him breathlessly. Smiling, he just lets her continue and almost imperceptibly pushes in a little more.
“Please,” she sobs. “Let me have all of it.”
He pulls back a bit.
“What did you say?”
“I want the whole thing…Please.“
“Say again?”
“For God’s sake…Give it to me!”
“Are you sure?”
“I BEG YOU!!” she shouts.
Whereupon, roaring, he drives home his immensity, releasing into her, as she shakes and screams out of control.
Later, leaning forward, grabbing her crotch with both hands, closing her legs trying to gather herself, she whimpers, rocking back and forth on the chair, still convulsing and dazed. He sits on the couch with a tired smile and motions to me to come forward and take his place.
“Put her over your knee and spank her with your bare hand until her ass lights up,” he orders, and sits in my chair to watch.
I do this with unexpected zeal, and it dissipates her stupor.
“Now use your fingers to pull out all of my seed.”
Using my index and middle fingers, I move through her entire vagina, drawing out all his stuff on to the floor, and in so doing encounter some of her hot spots, producing numerous aftershocks. She moans with additional pleasure.
“Now sponge her off and let her up.”
She rises, finds her kimono, shrugs it on and, looking at me quizzically, goes to her bull. Taking his hand and kissing the top of my head, she leads him upstairs to our bed.
I will sleep on the couch tonight.
—
Today, the twins come home for spring break. We are having a late dinner and talking. Our daughter, like her mother, is tall and lithe with flawless olive skin, perfect breasts, graceful neck, sensuous lips and mouth, and long black hair and eyes – a young man’s wet dream. Our son is a little taller, square jaw, high cheek bones, well built, broad shoulders, slim hips, and athletic. Young women throw themselves at him. Both are on the dean’s list, she majoring in art history, he in cosmology. So no problem there.
Their mother asks them, “How’s your social life – any boyfriends or girlfriends?”
“That’s somewhat of an issue,” hesitates her daughter.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Well,” my son answers, “since we are anomalous identical twins, entangled, sharing the same two bodies yet opposites, I know her thoughts when she does.”
“And I sometimes know his feelings before he has them,” says his sister. “So this gets in the way of our making friends.”
“Because they realize we understand and are a part of each other more than they will ever be,” adds her brother.
“I can see how that would be a problem,” sympathizes their mother. “But don’t attractive people like you have lovers? What do you do for sex?”
“It’s complicated,” replies her daughter.
“How?”
“I can’t get it off unless he’s watching.”
“Nor can I, unless she’s watching,” her brother says.
My wife and I stare at each other dumbfounded.
“I think we should call it a night,” declares my wife.
Everyone agrees and goes to bed. Later on, hearing strange noises from their room, we decide to check it out. The twins share the same bedroom, but are in separate beds. They have no secrets. Knocking quietly with no response, my wife opens the door ajar, and catches her breath. Her daughter sits moaning and shaking on a towel in the bed, legs spread open with three fingers in her vagina and some spittle dripping from her mouth, while her brother ejaculates on the towel.
“What are you doing?!” she demands.
She wipes her mouth quickly as our son covers himself with both hands. “This is what we must do to satisfy ourselves,” they cry out. “We’ve been doing it for a while now.”
“I make sure none of his stuff gets on me,” she says.
“And I make sure it all lands on the towel,” he says.
“Good,” affirms their mother. “Those swimmers can travel.”
“Just make sure you set boundaries,” I assert.
“And what if those boundaries are crossed?” questions my wife.
“I spank him,” counters our daughter.
Again, gobsmacked, my wife and I withdraw.
Surprised and left alone, the twins wonder together what Mom and Dad do, now that they are getting older.