I had just enjoyed endless orgasms from Alan’s mouth and fingers. It was now my turn to use my mouth on him. I lay down on my back as he had suggested, my head over the edge of the mattress. He got off the bed and stood in front of me, then stepped forward so that his cock was against my lips. I kissed his cockhead, then opened my mouth so that the tip lay between my lips. He kept still for a minute as I licked the taut skin of his glans, covering it with my saliva. Then he slowly pushed it in, stopping once his head was completely inside.

His balls were resting on the bridge of my nose and over my eyes. The hairs on his scrotum were tickling my skin. I could smell his scent, musky and masculine, full of testosterone. ‘Damn. You smell so fucking sexy,’ I thought.

He leaned over and grasped my breasts, palpitating them, his fingers playing across my skin. It felt good. As his fingers brushed across my nipples, my pussy started buzzing. I moved my hands down to touch myself, the fingers of one hand between my labia, my thumb on my clitoris. My other hand clutched the sheet, screwing it into a ball.

I jiggled my tongue on the underside of his cockhead and under his frenulum. I could feel the skin moving as I pressed against it. His cock jerked, and precum dribbled onto the back of my tongue. I gulped.

“God, you’re a good cocksucker,” he said, somewhat breathlessly. “You’re a natural. I can’t believe you’ve never used this position.”

“Mmmmf,” I responded, my mouth full of his warm but rigid member. Then slowly he started pushing his cockhead further into my mouth. I could feel his shaft sliding between my stretched lips and his glans rubbing my palate on its journey to my throat.

That’s when I began to understand why he had chosen this position. It aligned my throat with my mouth. His cock would go down my gullet. The only possible barrier would be my gag reflex.

As I felt his cockhead reach the entrance to my throat, I started to gag. He kept still, waiting for me to get it under control. I swallowed furiously, my throat muscles contracting around his glans. It felt like having something stuck in my throat and trying to swallow it. He realised what I was doing and pushed in further. That made it feel as though the obstruction was moving, and I stopped gagging.

“Fuck me,” he said, “you have no idea how incredibly sexy this looks. You can see a lump in your throat from my cock.”
He started moving slowly. Little thrusts with not much movement. It felt strange and a little uncomfortable. I didn’t enjoy it, so after a short while, I reached behind my head and pushed him back until his cockhead was out of my mouth.

“I’m sorry, Alan,” I said. “You’re too big. I can’t do it. Anyway, I’d much rather have you inside my vagina.”

“Don’t be sorry, Jane. It’s my fault for trying something unusual without asking you. I’d much rather be inside your vagina, too.”

“Well then, get on the bed and lie on your back.”

He got onto the bed and lay down next to me. I turned to face him, then crawled between his legs, pushing them apart. His cock was standing up, angled towards his stomach, jerking in time with his heartbeat. His cockhead was a dark pink colour and covered with my saliva. His large balls hung down underneath in their hairy, wrinkled sac. They just touched the bedclothes. He looked stunning, unbelievably sexy.

“My God,” I breathed, “you are the most beautiful, sexy man I have ever seen.”

I reached forward and lifted his balls with my fingers, tickling his scrotum with my nails. My heart lurched at the thought of the millions of sperm in them, waiting to invade my body. I leaned down and licked his sac, moving his testicles around with my tongue. He groaned.

I opened my mouth wide and sucked a testicle in, my tongue pushing against it. At the same time, I grasped his cock with my right hand and started stroking him. I could feel his precum dribbling down over my fingers. His cock seemed to grow harder and thicker as I stroked it.

“Enough, Jane, please,” he gasped. “You’re going to make me cum, and I want to cum inside you.”

I lifted my head and smiled at him, then let go of his cock as I got on my knees and straddled him. “You put it in,” I said. “Put your fat cock into my married pussy. I want to feel your cock inside me.”

He looked up at me and smiled, then grasped his cock and wiped it up and down my slit before lifting his hips and pushing into my vaginal entrance as I gently lowered myself onto his rigid shaft. God, it felt good as his large cockhead pushed open my vaginal walls on its journey into my core. All the memories of my earlier orgasms came flooding back as my nerves were stimulated by his thick, thick cock. I could feel my labia stretched tightly around his shaft, getting dragged inward. My clitoris tingled as it scraped the top of his shaft.

I looked down at him as his cock filled my vagina. His grey-green eyes were looking at me. They seemed to be able to see into my mind. His mouth was half-open and smiling. My eyes flicked down to his chest, broad and covered with silky black hair, with a line down over his navel and then broadening out into his pubic hair. He looked so sexy, so strong, so masculine, so different to my husband.

Less than twelve hours before, I’d been in the same position, sitting on my husband’s cock. I’d made love to him and enjoyed it. It had been meaningful, close, and loving. But not sexy.

My husband’s cock didn’t fill me like this. It didn’t make me feel stuffed, complete. It didn’t shatter my nerves like this man’s did. My husband’s body wasn’t lithe and strong and masculine like this man’s body. He wasn’t sexy like this man. He couldn’t make me orgasm like this man.

I shivered as these thoughts went through my mind. I realised that my lust for this man, Alan, gave him power over me, and that I probably could not resist it.

I reached down and ran my fingers over his chest. “Oh, Alan. Oh, you sexy man. You have such a lovely body. And I love the feeling of your cock inside me. It’s so damn thick and makes me feel so, so good.”

He looked at me, then put his hands under my knees and lifted them, then straightened my legs out so that I sat down heavily onto his cock. I was also helpless. All I had to support myself was my arms and hands, but my pelvis and hips were under his control.

He was also very deep inside me. My buttocks were between his thighs, as his legs were far apart, and his shaft was completely within my body. I felt so completely full of him, my vagina wrapped tightly around his thick cock. I leaned forward and down toward him, my breasts brushing against his chest. My nipples jutted out, full and hard, tickled by his chest hairs.

He looked into my eyes and smiled, then put his hands onto my breasts and held them tightly as he rubbed them against his chest. My vaginal muscles clenched as little ripples of pleasure spread through my groin. I wanted to lift my hips and fuck him, but I couldn’t. I had no leverage, which is what he’d planned. Instead, I used my pelvic muscles to squeeze his shaft while I jiggled around on top of him.

I could feel my clitoris getting itchy, and I tried to angle myself differently to rub it against him, but I couldn’t. Then he moved his hips. Made little thrusting motions.

“Oh, God, Alan. Yes. Yes.” I murmured, as the nerves in my crotch screamed.

I lifted myself off his chest and leaned back, my hands on his thighs, and moved my hips back and forth. It meant that my clitoris wasn’t touching his shaft anymore, but the movement of my labia made it move too.

“Oh, fuck, your cunt feels glorious,” he panted. “It’s perfect. Made for my cock.”

‘Well,’ I thought, ‘your cock also feels glorious. It probes and rubs bits inside me that my husband’s cock never reaches. It stretches me as he never has or could. It makes me feel that I belong to your body, part of it, inextricably attached.’

I wanted him to cum in me. I wanted his semen, with its millions of spermatozoa, to fill my womb, infusing my body with his DNA. I wanted him to be in my body permanently. “Cum in me, Alan. Please cum in me. Please. Please,” I begged.

He looked at me, then put his hands under my buttocks, and held me as he lifted himself onto his knees, tilting me backward so that my shoulders lay on the bed. I was now in front of him, my hips being held high up in the air. I wrapped my legs around his waist, crossing my ankles, as he rammed his cock into my elevated pussy. He gripped my thighs, holding me like a wheelbarrow, then changed his rhythm, fucking me harder and faster. His cock plunged in and out of my vagina, dragging my stretched labia back and forth. He used his hands to move my hips around as he fucked me, varying the angle of his thrusts, using my body to give himself pleasure.

My head was tilted back, looking across my bedroom. I could see the things I knew so well, the things my husband and I shared, but all I could think about was the incredible sensations flooding through my body.

“Aaargh,” I cried. “Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh,” each thrust forcing a sound from me.

Then I felt him lose control. He battered in and out of me, throwing my body around, my breasts bouncing back and forth. His balls banged against my crack. I reached around my thigh and held them, my fingernails scraping just behind his scrotum. That’s when he climaxed.

“Aaaaah, fuck,” he cried and, giving a huge thrust, held still with his cockhead against the back wall of my vagina. I felt his shaft swell as his urethra bulged out, followed by a sensation of indescribable pleasure as his semen jetted into my vagina. I closed my eyes and let the feeling wash over me as I felt my vagina fill with warm, slippery fluid, flooding into all the little hollows and crevices inside.

Alan didn’t move. I felt his cock shrink slightly, then expand again as another stream of semen sprayed out of it. Again, I felt that sensation of indescribable pleasure. Almost as though my very being had been ratified. He ejaculated twice more, then his cock stopped jerking. He put his arms around my waist and, scooping me up until my face was against his, kissed me. Softly, tenderly.

I smiled at him. I felt fantastic, happy, satisfied. I also felt safe.

“You’re very special,” he said.

“And you.”

He looked as though he was going to say something more, but didn’t.

“Shall we get something to eat? All this exercise has made me hungry.” I said.

“Good idea.”

I unhooked my ankles and, putting my feet on the bed, lifted myself off him. His cock popped out, still erect and dripping. A long strand of semen dangled from my slit, then suddenly detached and fell onto the bedclothes, followed by a steady flow. It wasn’t long before there was a puddle on the bed.

“Look what you’ve done,” I said, laughing, “you’ve made such a mess.”

“Oh, yes? And how much of that is yours?”

“Well, if it is, it’s because of you.”

I gave him a quick kiss, got off the bed, and went into the bathroom. I cleaned myself, then put on my bathrobe. I took my husband’s bathrobe off the hook and carried it with me back into the bedroom.

“Here. You can use this,” I said, “it’s my husband’s.”

“Thank you. I’ve taken his wife, so I might as well take his clothes as well.”

“I’m still his wife. You’ve only borrowed me.”

“Well, that’s good enough for me. For the time being, you are mine, and I am yours.”

I didn’t respond because I knew that this had all the signs of something that could easily get out of control …