I could feel the drops of sweat landing on my back as Tony plowed his cock deep inside of me. I had sucked him off earlier and knew that this would be a nice, long fuck. Despite the coolness of the basement, Tony was hot from the effort of pumping his cock in and out of me. The drops of sweat reminded me of the burn of candle wax that he loved to drip on me occasionally, especially down my balls and across my perineum.
I moaned with each thrust, loving the feeling of him inside of me. He held on tight to my ass cheeks, pulling them apart roughly as he went deeper and deeper. When he was inside of me, I knew that he had complete control of me. He owned me completely.
I had always been the bottom to Tony’s top but there was more to it. He made me weak and I loved being this way for him. I looked forward to our next “game night” as soon as the last one was over, as I limped to the car and drove home to my wife with an ass or belly full of Tony’s cum.
Tony had taken to more automotive blow jobs and other games at work. He had me wear a large butt plug which he’d put in me before morning coffee. He’d take it out of me before we went home for the night or, on “game nights”, once I got to his place.
Tony was getting close to loosing his load inside of me. Between grunts I heard a gasp and my stomach fell. There was only one person that it could have been… Marsha, Tony’s wife.
I don’t know if Tony heard it or if he was just too far gone. I clenched down on his cock, wondering what was going to happen. This apparently put Tony over the edge as he unloaded into me, cumming and cumming, gripping my ass harder in his hands, leaving a half moon of bruises that would rise in the morning.
“Tony? What…?” came Marsha’s meek voice.
“Oh, shit,” Tony said under his breath as he pulled out of me. I felt his hot cum dripping down my thighs.
I looked over my shoulder and saw Tony get up, naked, his half-hard cock dangling between his thighs, and turn to his wife. “I’m not going to say ‘it’s not what you think’ because it’s exactly what you think. I’ve been fucking this bitch once or twice a week for the last year. Do you have a problem with that?”
This was the first time I had ever heard Tony talk this way to Marsha. When describing his wife, the term “loud mouth” always came to mind. She was the kind of woman whose voice you’d hear over everyone else in a restaurant, endlessly bitching about some inane thing. She had henpecked Tony for as long as I had known him and this was the first time I’d seen her at a loss for words and him with the upper hand. Perhaps fucking me had empowered him.
“I asked you a question,” he said, cum still dripping from his cock onto their plush carpet. She was completely cowed. He walked over to her and she seemed to snap awake, as if from a nightmare where her husband was fucking his “best bud”. Her mouth started moving and through her stammering she seemed to come to some kind of self-realization, “N-n-n-n-n-No. No. No. I don’t.” She gasped, getting her breath, the cloud of confusion slowly dissipating.
Tony had told me a few times (usually after a few drinks) about the problems Marsha and he had been having in their marriage. Marsha had lost her interest in sex a few years into their marriage and this affected Tony more than he was willing to admit. I don’t know when he first started having sex with men but I wanted to think that I was his first and only.
“No, I don’t,” she repeated.
“I don’t have a problem with that.”
Ah, this was more like the Marsha I knew. I wondered when she was going to get loud or hysterical.
“Good,” he said, “Then you shouldn’t have a problem with this. Get down on your knees and clean my cock.”
The Marsha I knew would have laughed sarcastically and told Tony to shove his sentiments up his ass. But this Marsha… My jaw nearly hit the table I was bent over when she did exactly that, kneeling and taking Tony’s half-hard meat into her mouth hungrily. He groaned and pulled her head closer to him. I slowly slid down from my position over the table and took a seat on the floor to watch what happened next.
He put a foot between her legs and kicked her knees apart before pulling her mouth off of him. He reached down between her legs, up under her skirt. She tilted her head back and moaned as he said, “Ahhh, you’re wet, you slut. You like watching me fuck this faggot’s ass, didn’t you?”
She nodded, her eyes closing with pleasure, his arm working.
He turned to me, “Get over here, bitch boy. Crawl.”
Obediently, I heeled on his left side, waiting patiently.
“Lay down and take off your skirt and panties,” he told Marsha. She snapped to his orders as if she’d been waiting all of her life to hear them. She removed her garments and lay back.
He pointed to her crotch and snapped his fingers. “Eat her out, bitch. Make my wife cum and make it good.”
I practically dived into her pussy, going from kneeling to laying between her legs in record time. Her trimmed bush tickled my nose as I spread her with my fingers and found her clitoris with my tongue. I sucked on her the way I sucked her husband, my tongue making tiny circles, tasting her rich flavor.
A shadow passed over me and I looked up to see Tony standing over Marsha, his arm jack hammering away as he masturbated over her. I began licking her harder and faster and her hips began raising and lowering in time, pushing her sex against my face. It’d been long enough since I’d eaten pussy that I was afraid I’d forgotten. Luckily, I seemed to be doing a fair job. Marsha grabbed my head and pulled me deeper and harder against her as she began to shudder and gasp.
She climaxed, wailing loudly. I looked up to watch her face undergo the lovely paroxysm of pleasure. Tiny drops of milky liquid began dotting her face and I heard Tony grunt as he began cumming as well, decorating her face with his jism. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she sunk back down, her hands slowly letting me go.
As it happened I realized that I had never seen Marsha smile the genuinely sated smile that crossed over her face. She lay, quiet, for several minutes. In the meantime, Tony had me get dressed and dismissed me.
Tony saw me less frequently after that night. We had our occasional “game nights” but there was no artifice any longer. When I came over, Marsha was now always a part of our evening. She was a changed woman. Tony had shown her that he was in charge and she graciously accepted it.
It wasn’t until a few months later that I found out Tony had told Marsha to come home early that evening and come see us downstairs. He wanted her to see me getting fucked and use that as his first step in taking her over. While I’m often jealous that I’m not the only person that Tony fucks, I’m glad that he and Marsha have a better relationship and that I can play some small part in it.
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