Getting Hubby To Fuck Another

Fiona was looking awfully nervous. Well she's not daft, and I fancied she suspected what she was here for. Her legs were tightly squeezed together as she placed the empty wine glass on the table next to the couch.

My husband, Richard, was looking equally nervous, almost stalking the room. I'd dialled the home number from my mobile, and Richard had done quite a good job with the lie: “Ellie's caught in traffic. There's been a pile-up on the motorway. She might be an hour or more.”

“ Oh dear,” Fiona had said. Then she'd said something about the accident, the kind of thing you do. Maybe she saw through the lie. At any rate, conversation between her and Richard had been stilted and awkward, mildly bored small talk about work, gardens, before inevitably being reduced to commenting about the weather (“the frost doesn't usually come this early”). They'd finally reached the point where it seemed there was nothing more to say.

Perhaps that was what spurred Richard on. Or perhaps he sensed me urging him to get a move on from behind the door to the back hall, the door that had been left ajar for me to peak through. Suddenly he sat down next to Fiona on the couch. She looked at him questioningly, and for a moment I thought he was about to lose his nerve.

Then suddenly he shoved his hand down between Fiona's tightly clenched thighs. She gave a little yelp. “Richard! What are you doing?” she exclaimed, sounding short of breath.

“ I want you!” my husband told her. “I've got the hots for you, Fiona. I've always had the hots for you. You must have seen that.”

He was no actor, my husband. This was like some bad soap opera. Not that it mattered. Not if everything worked out as I hoped.

“ But Ellie...” Fiona protested.

“ She's stuck in traffic,” Richard reminded her. “She won't be home for a good half an hour.”

“ That's not what I meant,” Fiona said.

Still, she hadn't said no. That's what she'd told me down the pub when we had our weekly get-together: “I wouldn't say no.”

By that point she'd had just enough drink for her reserve to go. We'd got to that point in the evening where Fiona told me how lucky I was to have Richard.

And I am, I know that. But Fiona's my best friend, and I want her to have the best too. She'd had some bad experiences of relationships, and become a bit mistrustful. That was understandable, but I couldn't help myself: “You shouldn't deny yourself, Fiona. It's not healthy. I bet the only cock you've seen in a year is that dildo of yours.”

This made her a bit embarrassed, but we were both tipsy and I pushed on. “You need a proper humping instead.”

“ Ellie!” Fiona exclaimed, but she knew me well enough to put up with my provocation. “Oh, perhaps you're right. But it would have to be with someone I trust.”

I took my time answering, finally asking as casually as I could: “Do you trust Richard?”

“ Richard!” Fiona screeched, attracting the attention of a good many people, some of whom were no doubt called Richard. She lowered her voice. “This is just you winding me up, isn't it, Ellie?”

I wasn't. This was the proof of that. I watched as Richard tried to press his lips against Fiona's. She turned her head away and he was reduced to kissing the side of her neck instead, as he tried valiantly to prize her legs apart. She still wasn't saying no.

“ I really want you, Fiona,” Richard breathed. “You really turn me on.”

Where was my husband getting this corny dialogue from?

“ But Ellie...” Fiona persisted.

“ Never mind about her,” my husband said, suddenly much rougher, much more commanding. Presumably he was getting into his stride. Unable to part Fiona's legs, he still managed to drive his hand a little way up between her thighs, shoving her annoyingly long skirt in there too. His other hand went to her chest, rubbing one of her breasts. “I want you, Fiona. Right here, right now.”

I could see that Richard was using real force now, trying to push all the way up between Fiona's thighs. His other hand squeezed at her breast. Fiona wriggled a little, but she wasn't saying no.

Once I'd planted the idea in her head there in the pub, I could see that Fiona took to it, though she would never say as much outright. It took a while to break down Fiona's reserve. But I played on her being my very best friend. I let her understand I wouldn't mind her sharing my husband. I even offered to lend her Richard for the night.

That she turned down, but not, it seemed to me, without a certain regret. So I told her that Richard had admitted he found her attractive. And then, when I'd worked on her a little more, I popped the question outright:

“ What would you do if Richard made a pass at you. Forced himself on you, even?”

And that was when Fiona said the words: “I wouldn't say no.”

That was when I knew I had her.

There wasn't much else to be said, except to arrange a date. Not that Fiona knew, nor Richard at this point.

Still, everything seemed to be working out. Richard hands were still on her, and Fiona, though still appearing reluctant, was hardly making a great effort to remove them.

“ You're so hot,” Richard gushed. “Between your legs, I mean.”

This caused the flush in Fiona's cheeks to match the red dye of her hair. “But what if Ellie walks in?” she queried.

I was getting a bit annoyed with her worrying about me arriving. If someone offers to lend you their husband for the night, surely you have to imagine they don't have a problem with you shagging him, right?

Richard, on the other hand, was warming to the task. “She won't if we get this done quickly,” he said. Then: “I must have you, Fiona. Feel how hard I am for you.”

That seemed to be a step too far for Fiona, at least right now. But her legs finally gave way, allowing Richard to push the fabric of the skirt before him, finally get his hand as far up as he wanted. From my vantage point behind the door I could tell that he was rubbing Fiona through however much fabric there was; knowing her it would be tights and knickers under the skirt. There looked to be a million thoughts and feelings rushing through my friend's mind. Taker her, Richard, I urged silently, feeling my own arousal like so many pinpricks to the loins.

As if he heard me, Richard suddenly changed tack. He moved with surprising speed, landing in front of Fiona, grabbing hold of her legs and dragging her half of the sofa.

“ Richard!” she gasped, as my husband swiftly reached up under her skirt and wrestled her tights and panties down to her knees in one fell swoop. I silently cursed Fiona for her love of large billowy skirts, which prevented me from seeing anything above her knees. What I did see was Richard's hand disappearing up under the skirt; I could only imagine what it was doing up there.

“ I must have you,” Richard gasped in return. “ Now his head disappeared up Fiona's skirt. She was looking a little shocked, a little rigid, but she was doing nothing to push him away. She seemed on the verge of saying something, but instead just swallowed. She was staring wide-eyed, then her chest started heaving as the shutters came down on her eyes.

You could have made sure I could see properly, I said silently to my husband. But really it didn't matter. I could feel myself beginning to leak. I'd wanted this for so long.

For well over a year now, Richard and I had amused ourselves with reading sex stories aloud to each other in bed. It makes for wonderful foreplay, and can lead to some amazing roleplay.

The thing was, the stories that intrigued me the most were cuckold stories. I loved reading and hearing of wives giving themselves to other men with their husband's (often reluctant) consent, for this was the ubiquitous way round. Which I felt was a shame. Because right from the start, I identified more with the husbands in the story than the wives.

At first I kept this a secret, but the fantasies I had going round in my head became too much for me. One night when Richard had worked late, I said jokingly that I hoped he wasn't having an affair. He was shocked that I could even think that, but what he didn't know was how hot it made me imagining him fucking one of the minxes in his office over his desk.

Or perhaps with his head up their skirts. The way he had his head up Fiona's skirt now. All I could see was the fabric moving, but even that was a complete turn on. I stood there, peaking, my pussy desperate to be touched, but I held back, waiting.

It had taken a while to get Richard to this point. I'd worked on him gradually, all the time fuelling my own fantasies with different stories. When he worked late I rubbed myself, imagining him sucking on the tits of an office blonde. When we were out together I might point out a woman and ask him if he found her shaggable. It took a long time for me to dare to ask him this, and Richard behaved as any married man would, I suppose. Even if he did, he just mumbled that it wasn't something he thought about, that I was the only one for him.

Most women would be delighted by that. I found him tiresomely faithful. In private I rubbed myself even more frantically, hoping against hope that one day I might see him in action with some nubile hussy.

Not that Fiona matched anyone's idea of a nubile hussy, but she was at least reacting properly now. Really It sounded a bit like a frightened squeak, but it was enough for me. I still had my work clothes on, but I quickly hitched up my skirt and pushed my fingers down inside my tights and knickers. Finally it was happening and I was so wet I hardly knew what to do with myself. As I pushed my hand down over my pussy lips, the back of my hand became damp from what had already seeped into the underwear.

In the end, it was with Richard's head between my thighs that I'd finally come out with it. I'd tried and tried, and didn't know how else to do it. I just blurted: “Darling, I know it sounds weird, but I want to see you with someone else.”

That was a mistake, since he stopped licking to look at me in shock. “Keep going!” I urged, holding his head in place as I told him everything; how I was turned on by the cuckold stories, but in reverse, how I fantasised about seeing him with another woman, how turned on I was by the very idea. I was long gone from the feel of his tongue, and became quite graphic. When I'd finished, I'd also had a nice big, runny orgasm, and Richard's mouth was coated with stickiness.

I wondered if it was now. There was little doubt that Richard was licking Fiona, for she had that kind of look about her, not to mention the frightened little noises she was making. Well, half frightened, half aroused.

I was half frightened too. Half frightened that if I touched myself I would come in a screaming orgasm. There wasn't much too see, but after waiting so long, the whole thing had set my cunt on fire. When I understood that Fiona had finally made her choice, I almost combusted spontaneously.

“ Richard, let me get my skirt off.” Her voice sounded half strangled, presumably with her own conflicting desires. My husband emerged from under the garment, licking his lips. Fiona wriggled out of the thing, strangely leaving her tights and knickers round her knees. I caught Richard glancing my way as he undid his jeans, his look a mixture of desire and uncertainty. He couldn't see me.

His cock was big and eager when produced. He grabbed it, waving it at Fiona. “Do you want to taste it, Fiona?” he asked, as if he was offering to top up her glass.

Fiona was staring at the organ as if she still couldn't believe any of this. Say yes, I urged silently, my fingers moving over my swollen labia. For ages now I'd wanted to see a woman, any woman, with her lips wrapped round my husband's engorged gock.

But Fiona was shaking her head. “Richard, we haven't got much time. Ellie...”. He voice tailed off.

Ellie's here, I said silently. Ellie's here, Fiona, and she's loving every minute of her husband seeing to you.

Richard had got hold of tights and panties, pulling them down to Fiona's ankles the better to spread her legs. Somehow he managed to work himself up and under, landing on top of her, his hands grabbing at anything they could get hold of.

Fiona let out a huge gasp. Richard was inside her. I could see his buttocks heave and he worked up a brisk rhythm in no time, driving his big cock into Fiona as she lay slumped on the couch.

I couldn't hold back any longer. I pulled my own tights and knickers down a way, so that I could push my own fingers up inside me. The sight of Richard with his big cock inside Fiona was too much to bear without something inside myself. I was so wet it was completely mental. As I finger fucked myself, I could feel my juices running down my thigh.

“ Richard, this is so wrong!” Fiona exclaimed. But she didn't look as if she felt that. Richard was on top of her, working his cock deep into her, panting, gasping. Fiona was gasping too. Whatever she said, she had the air about her of a woman who has been thoroughly defeated by her own lust.

For months now I'd wanted to see this; see my husband bury his cock deep inside another woman. In truth there wasn't much in this session, but it was enough, given the level of pent up desire. I could feel my pussy begin to contract. There was nothing I could do to stop myself. I grabbed hold of my blouse, stuffing as much of it into my mouth as I could, then placed my free hand over. Anything not to make a sound.

How I succeeded, I don't know. I stood there, weak at the knees, fingers working my pussy, watching my husband fuck my best and dearest friend; and I just came and came, over and over, juices everywhere. How was it even possible to come like this, to be so excited by watching my husband fuck someone else? What I did know was that I didn't want it to end just yet.

On unsteady legs I made my way along the dark hallway. My mobile was in my bag where I'd left it just inside the door. I speed dialled our home number, hearing the phone in the house chirrup. It took a while before my husband answered. I could see him in my mind's eye looking at Fiona as he tried unsuccessfully to keep his voice steady.

“ Tell Fiona I'll be home in half an hour,” I said. “That should make her a bit less nervous.”

“ Is everything all right?” my husband asked.

“ Are you kidding? I've already come once, and I'm still as horny as anything. I hope you've got it in you to satisfy one more woman later on.”

“ Of course,” my husband said, making my pussy jump for joy. “Drive safely.”

As soon as the call was broken I speeded silently back up the hall. I was just in time to hear my husband say: “That was Ellie. She says she'll be home in half an hour, so we've got another 20 minutes, I'd say.”

I hadn't bargained for Ellie rearranging her clothes in the meantime. Did she really not understand that this had been arranged? The thought that she didn't, that she was prepared to let my husband fuck her notwithstanding was dynamite to my dark urges. Besides, now I had the pleasure of seeing my husband lift her skirt and pull her tights and knickers down all over again.

This time she was on her knees in the sofa, Richard having told her to “turn around.” Fiona did as he said without so much as a murmur of protest. She had that slightly guilty look about her, somewhat reluctant, but not reluctant enough to put up a fight.

I knew, too, that Richard was doing this for my benefit as much as for his own. When I first mooted the idea of arranging for him and Fiona to be on their own, he'd been aghast. In spite of everything I'd said, I don't think he'd actually believed I wanted to go ahead with it.

“ But it's Fiona,” he'd said.

“ What's the matter?” I replied casually. “Don't you find her attractive?”

“ Well, yes,” Richard stuttered, “but... Fiona.”

I'd heard all I needed to hear, and of course that was what I told Fiona when we were out for drinks, that Richard found her attractive.

The most important thing I told Richard later was: “She said she wouldn't say no.”

“ But she didn't agree outright?”

“ Who cares? I want to see you fuck her, darling. She needs a good humping, and I want to see you slam your big cock into her doggystyle.”

The immediate result of this proposition was that I got fucked hard from behind by my lovely husband.

But now, thankfully, he was doing exactly what I'd said, slamming his big cock into Fiona from behind, balls slapping loudly as if it was some hardcore porn shoot.

Besides, the lack of face-to-face interaction seemed to have a liberating effect on Fiona. She began moaning, not too loudly, but enough to betray intense excitement. “You're so tight,” Richard exclaimed. “I swear, Fiona, you were made to be fucked from behind like this.”

The dialogue wasn't exactly improving, but I didn't care about that. I was mesmerised by the sight of my darling husband's big cock sliding so fast in Fiona that it was almost blurred. Fiona, who was really getting into the swing of things now. “Oh!” she moaned. “That feels so good. It's wrong, Richard; but it feels so good.”

“ Agreed,” my husband grunted. “You're a brilliant shag, Fiona!”

This seemed to shock Fiona a little, but she didn't object. Of course, I knew that my husband was falling back into the usual habits. I love being called a hot shag, a delicious slut, a dirty fuck in the heat of the moment, even having my arse slapped when I'm being done from behind. Fiona obviously wasn't used to that, and Richard refrained from spanking her.

Instead his hand moved round underneath Fiona, his fingers heading for her clit. As he began rubbing her, I squatted as close to the door as I could without revealing my presence, my fingers rubbing my own clit. An unguarded gasp came over my lips, but fortunately Richard and Fiona were making enough noise of their own to drown it out. I paused to get my knickers off and stuff them in my mouth, to prevent any further accidental noise.

When I resumed rubbing myself, I was immediately halfway to coming again, thinking that not only would I be getting Richard to drill me like that later, but that this was a thrill too great not to repeat. I wasn't quite prepared for the swiftness with which Richard's handiwork had its effect.

“ Oh, oh!” Fiona exclaimed, as if something was happening that she wasn't too sure about. Then a high-pitched scream erupted from her. “Eeeeeeeeeeeh!” Her body spasmed as I pulled back a bit, not wanting my own climax to come quite yet. But then I speeded up again when I realised that Richard had no intention of letting up.

“ Oh gosh! Oh gosh!” Fiona was burbling. My husband just kept going, shoving his thick cock into her, and I could see the tell-tale signs in his face, hear his panting grow ever louder. I rubbed my clit hard as Richard groaned out loud. He didn't have to say anything for it to be obvious that his seed was pumping out into Fiona.

I bit down on my panties. As I watched my husband ejaculate in my best friend, the juices poured out of me. I squatted there, my body shaking, hardly knowing if I was peeing all over the floor or cumming. It was like the orgasm that wouldn't end, gaining renewed strength when Richard withdrew from Fiona, and I could see his white, sticky load slowly seep out of her.

“ I must...”, Fiona said with a tilt of her head, looking a bit embarrassed now.

Richard nodded, letting her make her way to the bathroom to clean up. I just about managed to make it to my feet. My body was like jelly and it took me all of five minutes before I felt able to return myself to an outwardly respectable state.

I slipped out the back door and went round the house to come in the front. Richard and Fiona were fully dressed now, with replenished wine glasses at the ready. After the expected greetings I poured myself a glass, which I sorely needed. I couldn't resist asking: “So what have you two been getting up to while you've waited for me?”

Poor Fiona looked so very guilty, but Richard just said: “Oh you know, nattering about this and that.” Then he winked at me without Fiona seeing.

I could tell from the look in his eye that this wouldn't be the last time I'd get to spy on him and Fiona together. And if Fiona got cold feet, well, I was sure someone else could be found. Because if there was one thing I knew, it was that having seen my husband with another woman, the reality of it by far exceeded the fantasy. I was already hooked.