Irene, on her back in the middle of the superking-sized bed, planted the soles of her feet firmly on the cotton sheet.

Gazing up at the whirling ceiling fan, she inhaled slowly and deeply. With the expansion of her chest, firm breasts rose impressively and brown nipples pointed majestically skywards. Irene drew her heels back towards her buttocks, allowing her knees to fall sideways and so spreading her soft thighs wide apart.

Another silent, deep breath and she wriggled, getting comfortable on the pillow that had been placed under under her hips. With thighs agape and pelvis raised, Irene’s sweet sex was invitingly visible and available. Her arms rested by her sides, clammy palms flat to the bedding. The ceiling fan barely disturbed the air.

From the bedside radio came the sounds of chamber music, soft and relaxing. Irene needed to relax, needed to be soothed. She looked along her tanned body, between her breasts and over her slowly-undulating tummy, beyond the trimmed hair of her raised mound to her naked husband.

Oliver was slightly to her right on the far side of the room, his back resting against the wall. His cock, slightly smaller than the perceived average, was twitching in the initial stages of arousal. He smiled at Irene, deep brown eyes glistening in his swarthy face. A few beads of sweat had formed on his top lip and on the brow beneath close-cropped black hair. Only minutes ago, he had been licking and lapping at Irene’s pussy, rubbing a thumb over her clit and crooking two fingers inside, stimulating her until she was dripping and squelching. A few moments more and she might have managed a mini-orgasm, the little fire that Oliver’s fingers and tongue sometimes lit. But her husband had retreated, murmuring, “That’s my girl, wet and ready.”

Irene felt the mattress move and slightly turned her head to focus on the man who had clambered aboard and was now kneeling between her open legs. He was a big, solid man - much bigger than her husband - with sandy blond hair cropped short. But it was the looming bronzed torso that captured Irene’s attention.

Sucking in air, Irene held her breath as she viewed broad shoulders and chest, rippling stomach muscles and solid thighs. All that took mere seconds to register but a gasp slipped from between crimson lips when she saw the erection pointing at her open pussy.

“Oh my,” she muttered, her mouth suddenly parched. She swallowed, creating a little saliva which she tongued around her mouth and licked over dry lips. It was an unwitting, seductive action: breathless and stunned, Irene didn’t realise that her darting tongue was so suggestive. The man with the mammoth cock smiled, tips of white teeth gleaming.

Although enthralled, spellbound even, by the massive rod hovering near her groin, Irene’s attention was distracted by Oliver walking towards a chair on her right. His penis, the only one she’d ever had inside her, was now erect but it looked minuscule beneath his slight paunch. She gave a tentative smile in his direction but her eyes oscillated between the two cocks. Irene was amazed that they could look so different. Oliver sat, stroked his erection between thumb and two fingers, and returned her smile.

The mattress rocked again and Irene’s attention switched back to the man who was preparing to feed her his vast pole. She was stunned, lost in wild and fearful images of being speared by this whopping stake. The man placed cool palms on her knees and gently eased them further east and west, all the time edging forward until his cock rested on her abdomen, his balls nestling against her mound. The thick shaft felt heavy, hot and solid. The purple skin of the mighty dome looked satin smooth and, fleetingly, Irene was tempted to touch it, wondering if it really was as silky as it appeared.

But the man grasped his tool in his right hand, settled back onto his haunches and presented the imposing head to her engorged pussy lips. Irene gasped again, thrilled but also apprehensive about the imminent intrusion of something so large.

She quickly glanced back at her husband and saw he was staring intently at the huge helmet rubbing up and down her slippery vulva. Oliver’s masturbating hand now matched the steady rhythm of the cock sliding along her glistening slit.

“Your husband has prepared you well. You are nicely wet, very juicy.”

The bass voice, although little more than a whisper, regained her attention. “Am I?” she croaked, barely audible and looking at the man’s broad, toothy smile.

“Hmm,” he confirmed, nodding. The tip of the meaty dome had now nudged slightly between her pink folds. “I think you are ready for me. Have you got the condom, Oliver?”

“It’s right here, Thomas,” said Oliver, rising from his seat. He picked up a packet from the bedside table, ripped it open but didn’t remove the condom. He handed over the opened packet, smiled reassuringly at Irene, and returned to his chair.

Irene watched Thomas roll on the pink sheath. Fully unfurled, it reached halfway down his meaty missile and Irene inhaled sharply, her eyebrows raised in startled amazement. Oliver never unrolled a condom all the way and now she knew, if any confirmation was needed, that she was expected to participate in something quite different, a totally new experience in her life.

Irene had ultimately bowed to her husband’s wishes, even admitting to herself that she was somewhat curious: maybe Olly was right, maybe there was more enjoyment to be had in her sex life. So, here she lay. With the insistent encouragement of her husband, who was now naked and watching at her bedside, she was primed to be fucked by another man, a complete stranger.

But that isn’t the full story, thought Irene. She took another deep breath. It wasn’t enough that this professional stud was a handsome hulk... oh no, Olly had to arrange much more. Between muscular thighs, her escort had an outstanding, monumental shaft of astonishing proportions. Irene still couldn’t believe her eyes. It was a startling sight: solidly erect, blood pulsating through thick veins, the bulging purple head was threatening to burst through the thin condom. And it was intended for her.

Suddenly, Irene panicked. . .

~~~~~~~~~~~

A virgin when she married, Irene didn’t have any complaints with Oliver’s bedroom technique. He’d had several partners and was a gentle teacher, guiding and talking to her about her needs, always striving to ensure that she was satisfied. But, as the years passed, Irene found it strange that her husband would frequently raise the topic of her sexual fulfillment. She insisted that he satisfied her needs.

But Oliver did not appear convinced. In fact, he became increasingly doubtful until he reached the stage of being adamant, shaking his head and telling Irene that she wasn’t being entirely truthful.

Bemused, Irene would shrug her pretty shoulders, smile sweetly and tell him not to be silly. “I am very happy,” she’d say. That much was certainly true. And, because Oliver was her only lover, she was unable to form any comparisons, good or bad. Also, Irene didn’t have anything like the sexual appetite of her husband and was, indeed, contented. 

Still, despite all her assurances, Oliver convinced himself of two things: that his small penis was inadequate and that Irene must wonder about sex with another man, a lover with a bigger cock.

And, as years passed and their love-making became less frequent, he believed this dwindling of activity was further indication that Irene was dissatisfied. The subject constantly filled Oliver’s thoughts until one night, in bed after making love, he could contain himself no more. With Irene’s head resting on his shoulder, he suggested that he should find a sex partner for her.

“What?” she said, lifting her head and looking into his eyes. “ Did I hear right? You want me to have another man?”

Oliver glanced away from her stare and gazed up at the ceiling. “Yes,” he said, “that’s what I think we should do.”

“We? I’m really sorry here, Olly but I just don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do,” he said, turning and looking at his wife’s furrowed brow. “We’ve talked about it a lot...”

“No,” Irene interrupted. “You’ve talked about it and I’ve listened. Why can’t you understand that I’m perfectly satisfied with our sex. Didn’t you just enjoy what we did?”

Oliver bit on his bottom lip and Irene’s brown eyes glared at him. “Well, did you?”

“Yes, my love, of course I did but that’s not the point.”

Irene sighed. “Oh Olly, why can’t you understand?” She lifted Oliver’s arm away from behind her neck and slumped back heavily onto her pillow. “Will you never believe me? What can I do to prove to you that you’re completely wrong?”

“I’m not wrong. I love you so much Irene, always have and always will. That’s why I want you to have the very best in everything and that includes sex.”

“But I...”

It was Oliver’s turn to cut his wife’s protests short. “No, Irene, you don’t know. I’m the only man you’ve ever been with and you don’t know what you’re missing. Please, my darling, let me for once make this arrangement. Just once, that’s all I ask.”

The bedroom fell silent for a few minutes, Irene debating and Oliver waiting. “Just once?” she finally queried, her voice soft, almost tremulous.

“Yes, one time,” he said eagerly. “I want you to see, to find out, just what you’re missing. How much better sex can be. Listen, I’ve told you this before. It’s not just about you, it’s about me as well.”

Irene turned her head to look at her anxious husband. “I find this all so strange,” she said. “I really don’t understand how you could want me to go with another man let alone watch him...well, fuck me. Because that’s what it’d be. Fucking not loving.”

“That’s the whole idea,” said Oliver, the corners of his mouth twitching in a smile. “It would be pure physical pleasure for you, not an affair or anything. And, for my part, I get the pleasure of seeing you really enjoy being fucked good and proper.”

“What makes you think I’d enjoy it?”

“Oh, Irene my love,” he said, turning his head and kissing her temple. “You will, I know you will. You like the sex we have but there’s so much more you can enjoy. Believe me, I know that much, darling.”

Irene looked at the ceiling and resumed her internal debate. Why is Olly so adamant? Could he be right? Am I really missing something? And would it make him happy? How does that work, Olly being happy to watch another man fuck me? Does that mean he loves me even more than I think?

“Please, darling.” Oliver’s pleading voice broke into her thoughts.

“Give it a try. It’s the only way to end this argument, you know. Let me fix you with a date. Please. For both of our sakes.”

“You really do want to watch another man in bed with me? Shoving his cock in me?”

“Yes... but only because I believe you’ll get so much more pleasure than my little cock can give you. I want to see you really enjoy having a bigger and thicker cock inside you. I want to see the thrill of it all on your face and know that you’ve been thoroughly and properly fucked for once.”

Irene reached between the sheets and took Oliver’s limp, sticky penis between her finger tips. He sighed at her touch and she smiled into his face. “If you’re really sure it’s what you want, go ahead, fix it up.”

Oliver smiled broadly, exposing his perfectly white teeth. “Oh, that’s wonderful, great,” he gasped and his cock twitched as Irene gently squeezed.

“But how will you arrange it?” she asked. “What man will you get? Not a friend, Olly. Not anyone we know. I couldn’t do that.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it all worked out. I’ve thought about this for a long, long time. I’ll hire an escort, a professional. I know what I’m doing, my love. You see, you’ll be thanking me in the end.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Irene stared at her husband. Thomas, the escort who had met them in the hotel bar an hour and two drinks earlier, was poised to become only the second man to penetrate her. His stupendous snake was ready to enter her special place, to share the gift that she’d kept all her life for just one person: her husband.

Oliver stopped stroking his cock and raised a quizzical eyebrow. He could see anxiety and doubt in Irene’s eyes. “It’s alright, darling,” he said, soothingly. “Don’t worry... everything will be fine. Relax and enjoy. Please, look at Thomas, not me.”

A hesitant smile played at the corners of her mouth as Oliver resumed his stroking and nodded towards Thomas. “If you say so, Olly,” she whispered. “But look at him, he’s enormous. I’m not sure about this.”

“Don’t worry, darling,” said Oliver. “Please, please... we’ve come this far. Please, listen to me, there’s nothing to worry about. You’ll be just fine. Better than that; trust me, you’ll love that big cock inside you. Don’t panic, just relax.”

Irene looked again at the erection of her soon-to-be fuck partner. He was patiently waiting. Compared to Olly’s cock it was colossal. Fuck that, for all she knew, it was probably gigantic compared to most men’s equipment. And just look at those huge balls. How much stuff do they produce? Goodness, Olly, you’ve really gone and got me a mega cock, haven’t you? Why one so big? And what makes you think I can take all that? If it hurts, I don’t care what you say, I won’t do it. That’s the end of it. No arguments.

She breathed deeply, exhaled slowly and concentrated on Olly’s familiar cock. Ah well, let’s do it. Let’s see what happens. Turning her head away from Oliver, she wriggled once more into the pillow beneath her buttocks. “Okay,” she said, resting the backs of her hands at the side of her head, elbows jutting out, in a surrender position. “I’m ready, Thomas. I’m yours. Let’s do it.”

The escort smiled. He rubbed a forefinger along Irene’s slit, feeling her wetness before parting her folds and easily inserting it knuckle deep into her sopping vagina. Her spread thighs twitched as the finger brushed against her swollen clit and then, teasingly, it was gone. No more finger. Instead, Thomas presented his bulbous cock head at her entrance. In one swift movement, Thomas nudged between her lips and plunged half his length into her wet but tight tunnel.

Oliver sat upright in his chair as Irene gasped loudly, shook her head and spluttered “Oh my lord.”

Thomas waited, allowing Irene to regain her breath and become familiar with the unusual intrusion. His thickness filled her and throbbed powerfully against her cavity walls. She opened her eyes, immediately revealing a look of surprise and wonderment, and licked her tongue around dry lips. “Oh my, oh my, ” she muttered, bringing her hands from above her head to rest them palm down on her tummy.

“Okay?” asked Thomas.

Irene clamped her now-moist lips together and nodded, just once. “Hmm,” she said, looking into his pale blue eyes, “I am now.” In a soft, halting tone she added, “Please, be gentle with me. You’re very big. Much bigger than I’m used to.”

Thomas smiled knowingly at her and took his weight on his hands, placed on the bed on either side of Irene’s trembling breasts. Oliver remained upright in his chair but resumed stroking his cock, his gaze transfixed on Thomas’s organ as it sank deeper into Irene’s pussy and then slowly withdrew almost all the way out.

In and out, up and down, Thomas built and maintained a steady rhythm which Irene, eyelids now tightly shut, automatically began to imitate. She rocked and rolled her hips, bucking to meet the long thrusts, raising her pelvis to accept the thunderous cock which she was fed in ever-increasing lengths.

Her first orgasm came suddenly. And it was volcanic, a torrent of juices spurting and flooding her channel like never before as wave after wave of muscular tremors coursed and surged through her hot body. The tumultuous flow of extravagant, intense pleasure gradually subsided into ripples: pleasant, soothing and relaxing. It was only then that Irene became aware that someone, somewhere had been screaming. In the silence of the room, broken only by her heavy breathing and the regular squeaking of the bed, she realised who had been screaming. Embarrassed, she bit her bottom lip and brought her right hand to her mouth.

Above her, Thomas looked down into her eyes and again smiled. Irene instinctively put her arms around his broad back and started again to rhythmically meet his prolonged piston movement, urging him, willing him, to fill her passage and stimulate another magic orgasm. It didn’t take long.

Gasping and clinging to Thomas’s back, Irene galloped noisily towards climax. Tossing her head from side to side, the perspiration running down the valley between her quivering breasts, she bumped and bucked until she had the massive cock buried all the way, their pelvic bones crushed in a fierce urgency of movement and lust which Irene didn’t think plausible let alone possible. She could feel his head deep within and, to her great relief, there was no pain, only breathtaking sensations and overwhelming joy.

Irene was afire. Her heart beat furiously, drumming and thumping a staccato tune, while her mind floated on high, unable to comprehend how she could be so turned on, buzzing and thrashing about with the thrill of it all.

All she wanted was this huge cock pounding into her dark recesses, to have it jolt her nerve-ends, taking her on an ecstatic ride to climax after astonishing climax, hitting heights of rapture that she hadn’t known existed.

What on earth is happening?

Yet another enormous orgasm detonated deep down, sending even more juices cascading down her inner thighs and seeping along the crack of her anus to pool beneath on the sweat-soaked sheet. This time, Irene sagged back into the mattress, her energy rapidly diminishing. Her arms flopped to her side. Thomas quickly withdrew, rocked back onto his haunches and rolled the condom off his pulsating boner.

“Oh,” gasped Irene, shocked by the emptiness his sudden withdrawal created. Using her right hand, she felt her gaping hole, sodden and hot, and dipped two fingers inside. Thomas stroked his robust length and Irene watched, fascinated, as the purple head bulged enormously, opening up the one-eye for the first spume of cream. It soared and splashed down on Irene’s chest, followed by two more arcs which splattered on her stomach before a final crescent landed among her matted pussy hairs and on shaky thighs.

Thomas teased out the last drops, shaking and flicking them onto Irene’s legs and then watched as she dipped her fingers into a pool of cum and sucked them in her mouth. “Hmm,” she murmured, her eyes bright and gazing at the cock which had given her so many treats. She smacked her lips together and then smiled, “Thank you.”

“A pleasure,” said Thomas, dismounting the bed.

“Yes, thank you, Thomas,” said Oliver, rising from his chair. His cock was withered, having shriveled after his much earlier ejaculation when Irene screamed out during the first of her mega orgasms. He couldn’t contain his happiness at Irene’s obvious enjoyment. He just had to cum.

The sound of Oliver’s voice startled Irene: lost in her elation and euphoria, she had forgotten he was in the room. She turned her head and glanced at him. She noted his limp, small penis and compared it with the tube dangling heavily between Thomas’s thighs. Oh my, she thought, will I ever be able to feel Olly again?

“I’ll have a quick shower and be gone,” said Thomas, strolling to the bathroom.

“Fine,” said Oliver, “go ahead.” He walked across to the bed, perched on the edge and put his hand between Irene’s open legs. He slid two fingers into her soppy hole and Irene contracted her muscles, gripping him tight. He smiled.

“See, that was good, wasn’t it?” He leaned to kiss his wife’s smiling lips.

“Yes, Olly, it was. I never realised just how big a cock can be and what it can do.” Irene gasped, blushing, and put a hand to her mouth. “Oh, Olly, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...”

“Sush, sush,” Oliver interrupted. “I am not upset, my darling. I knew I wasn’t giving you what you needed. I’ve told you that for years.”

“Hmm, you have.”

“And now you agree, yes?”

Irene looked into her husband’s brown eyes. “And you’re still happy with what happened, Olly? You sitting here, watching me get fucked. That’s alright with you?”

“Of course, my sweetheart, of course. I loved watching you get so much pleasure, so much more physical pleasure than I can give you. I love you and I’ll do anything to prove it. You know that.”

Irene nodded. “I know, I know. I guess I never realised just how much.”

Oliver stood and leaned over to kiss Irene’s damp forehead. Straightening up, he said, “I guess you’ll want to do it again sometime.”

Irene shuffled up to lean on one elbow, a cheek resting on her fist. “Guess I just might,” she smiled as more juices seeped from her pussy. “But isn’t Thomas expensive?”

“Oh, I don’t think we’ll need Thomas again. Not for a long while anyway. I have other plans, my darling. Other surprises up my sleeve.”

“Oh,” said Irene. Her disappointment that Thomas’s giant cock was apparently now off the menu was tempered by her curiosity for Oliver’s other schemes. “Such as what, my darling husband?”

Oliver smoothed a fingertip through the congealing sperm on Irene’s stomach and outlined a heart around her navel. “Tut, tut, my dear. You’ll just have to wait and see.”