"Man, my hamstring is killing me," said John with a grimace, rocking back on the chair and grasping his knee to his chest. I ignored him and poured more wine into Jane's glass. John seemed to injure some part of himself every damn week after soccer. He never rested or went for physical therapy, seeming to prefer complaining instead. We had lost yet again. I was frustrated beyond belief. "That sucks, where does it hurt?" J...

The next week, we lost even worse than before—our worst loss of the season. John bowed out at halftime—yet another hamstring injury. He watched the remainder of the game from the sidelines, unable to leave since we had carpooled to the game. “Carpooling” with John meant we had to drive every week, as he was too cheap to put gas in his car or pay the $1.00 parking fee. Jane didn’t seem to mind, but week after week, it irke...

After our previous encounter, Jane somehow awoke in time for her regular gym session. I had no idea how she got up so early every Saturday morning, especially given our usual heavy nights on Fridays. However, this time was different. In addition to carrying my load in her pussy, she had another man’s cum in her belly. The thought of this made me as hard as a rock. The marks on her boobs I knew she could hide beneath her s...

Jane was right; if we wanted to do a true airtight, we were going to need an extra cock, but where to find one? The hookup apps were the obvious solution. I searched for the apps people were using for dating these days: Tinder, Feeld, and a few of the swinger apps: XLX, SDC, and Kasidie. Were we swingers? Was Jane a hotwife, and John was her bull? The names, terms, and definitions came at me thick and fast, and I felt ove...

The next day, I texted John. “Remember what Jane said about being airtight? I think we found someone.” I was pretty sure he’d be in—I mean, how often do you get to fuck another man’s wife with no recriminations or obligations? So I wasn’t surprised that his response came within minutes. “Are you serious? I’m down; when and where?” The where was easy—we’d do it at our place, in our marital bed. Not only was it simple to se...