My wife Mandy invited a couple of her guy friends from work, Sam and Peter over for dinner and drinks one Friday night. I didn’t really like either of them very much, they were sort of big dumb jock types who worked in sales, whereas I am sort of a skinny tech guy who doesn’t care about sports. But I agreed because my wife could get very whiney if I didn’t let her have her way, and I didn’t like to cross her. To my surprise, dinner wasn’t that annoying, and both Sam and Peter seemed to be trying their best not to annoy me. They avoided any talk of sportsball and stuck to neutral topics, and after a few glasses of wine, I found that I didn’t hate them very much. After dinner we moved to the living room and I was surprised when Sam pulled out a bag of marijuana.

“Anyone care to smoke?” he asked casually, holding up a small ziplock bag professionally marked with a medicinal dispensary label.

“Omigod, Sam, where did you get that?” gasped my wife, clearly delighted. “I haven’t smoked in years, I used to be a pot fiend in college.”

“You were?” I asked, taken aback. I knew that my wife was a bit on the wild side, but I didn’t realize that she had been a pothead.

“Oh yes, I was quite naughty before you made an honest woman of me, dear,” she said, drawing her cardigan across her ample bosom as she curled up on the couch next to Sam. “Is that medical stuff, can I smell it?”

“Yes, it’s medical. It’s the good stuff,” said Sam, opening the bag with smirk and offering it to my wife to smell.

The stink of skunk immediately filled the room, it was really uncanny. “Holy shit, I can smell it from here,” I gasped in amazement.

“Wow, this IS good stuff, we never had anything like this back at Columbia,” said my wife, pouting judiciously. Then she slapped Sam on the shoulder. “What condition is this for, Sam? You don’t have any medical problems.”

“Not true, not true,” yelped Sam with a broad grin on his face. “I have trouble keeping weight on.”

“Yeah right,” snorted my wife reaching over to pat his belly playfully. “Oh wait, this is pretty hard actually.”

Sam lifted his shirt to reveal a carapace of muscled abs that put my own pale flabby gut to shame. “You like that? Go ahead, touch it,” he offered smugly.

My wife shot me a guilty look as she tucked her long blonde hair behind one ear and ran her hand up and down Sam’s rippling torso. Her cheeks colored slightly as she felt up Sam’s body. “Yes, well, the weed seems to be keeping you fit alright,” she said.

“Ahem,” I said in annoyance, feeling a little twinge of jealousy in response to the way my wife was gushing over this jock’s hot body.

“Oops, sorry, honey,” she said, pouting at me cutely as she removed her hand from Sam’s flat stomach and leaned back. “I got a bit distracted for a moment.” I watched with suspicion as she carefully opened her cardigan and pulled her shoulders back, making her nice breasts jut out slightly. She fanned her face with her hand and looked at Sam with a little smile on her face.

Peter snorted with amusement and I saw that his eyes were fixed directly on my wife’s chest. Sam also glanced down at my wife’s protruding knockers straining against her t-shirt for a moment before shaking himself. “Yeah, well, do you want to smoke or what?” he asked, taking his eyes off of my wife’s tits with visible reluctance.

“Definitely,” said my wife. “Let’s get stoned!” She pretended not to notice that he and Peter were ogling her boobs. ‘What do you say, honey, have you ever smoked pot?” she asked me.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve, uh, smoked weed before,” I lied, making a waving motion with my hand. “But, it’s been so long, that I, err, don’t think I would be into it.”

“Oh, come on, honey, loosen up a little,” giggled my wife. I noticed that she seemed to be maintaining an oddly erect posture which kept her breasts sticking out much more prominently that normal. I couldn’t exactly comment on that because I was too embarrassed. But Peter and Sam definitely noticed and kept stealing glances at my wife’s rack.

I watched as Sam produced a pipe, packed it, and lit it with a lighter in short order. The pungent stench of the herb filled the room and I wrinkled my nose in disgust as I drained another glass of wine. Sam held in his breath and passed the pipe to my wife who took a big hit herself and walked the pipe over to me, grabbing the bottle of wine from a side table on her way. She exhaled a huge puff of smoke into my face, making me cough slightly, much to the amusement of Peter and Sam. “Here honey, have more wine, and then smoke some pot,” she said, topping off my glass and handing me the smoking apparatus.

“But I don’t really,” I whined, feeling slightly afraid of what would happen to me. I heard people got paranoid on this stuff and I was already feeling weird about the sexual tension in the room between my wife and these two guys.

“Now, now, don’t be such a baby, here, I will light it for you,” coaxed my wife, putting the stem of the pipe into my mouth and lighting the bowl for me. “Now inhale, but not too deeply,” she instructed sternly.

“Maybe you shouldn’t make him,” mumbled Peter, looking at me with concern.

I felt a little condescended too and it pricked my sense of masculinity, so I defiantly took a deep “toke” or whatever you call it from the pipe and tried to hold it in the way my wife and Sam had done. My lungs immediately felt as though they were being consumed by flames and I broke out into a fit of coughing, expelling a massive cloud of marijuana smoke from my mouth and nose. My wife knelt down beside and patted me on the back as I hacked and hacked. Peter came and discretely relieved me of the pipe. I was vaguely aware of him refilling it and taking a hit himself.

“Oh, dear, oh dear,” murmured my wife with concern. “I’m sorry honey, you breathed in too DEEPLY, darling,” she produced a tissue and put it to my nose and I blew my nose into like a sick child. “Drink this, drink this,” she urged, giving me my wine, and I gulped down the entire glass to soothe my fiery throat.

“Jeez, you are giving him more wine?” asked Peter with surprise. “Christ, get him some water, Mandy.”

“Well, all I have is wine right at hand,” said my wife, pouring me out another glass, and I drank that down as well. Presently my coughing subsided and a strange heaviness seemed to fill my body. I leaned back in my chair as though I weighed 1000 pounds. Mandy retreated to the couch, eyeing me with apprehension.

“How are you feeling, dear, are you alright?” she asked me as she took another hit of the pipe that Sam handed her.

It took me a few minutes to process what she said. Then I realized that I was still thirsty, so I reached out slowly and grabbed my glass of wine and took another sip.

Sam and Peter broke out laughing. “Jesus, look at him, he’s stoned off his ass,” giggled Sam pointing at me with amusement.

“Oh, god, he really is,” agreed my wife. Her own eyes were starting to look glassy.

“Yeah, I think I’m,” I paused, trying to find the right word, but I couldn’t think of it. I realized that I had drunk quite a bit of wine at this point, and I couldn’t tell if I was more stoned or more drunk. I was basically obliterated but I wouldn’t have been able to pronounce obliterated at that point. As I contemplated I vaguely became aware of music playing. I think it was Kinky Reggae by Bob Marley and I turned my head to see Peter at the stereo.

“Wow, this is good weed,” said my wife, sitting stricken on the couch.

“Oh, yeah,” agreed Sam, stretching his arms and legs out as he reclined on the couch.

“It’s funny that you are still smoking at our age, and working a full time office job and everything,” commented Mandy, taking a contemplative sip of wine. I noticed that her boob thrusting posture had collapsed, which was a relief, but she was curled up pretty close to Sam on the couch there and his arm was on the back of the couch behind her which seemed strangely intimate to me.

“Oh, I get most of my creative marketing campaign ideas while stoned,” laughed Sam, tousling my wife’s hair impishly.

She’s normally quite touchy about anyone messing with her hair, but my wife just grabbed his hand away and held it in her lap. “Stop that, you are messing my hair,” she told him gently.

“Plus he smokes it when he has chicks over to his place,” added Peter, who had sprawled out right on the floor by the stereo.

“Really?” asked my wife with interest. I watched with anxiety as she traced the veins on the back of Sam’s hand as it lay on the thigh of her jeans. But I was stunned mute by the combination of alcohol and marijuana.

“Yeah, you know, we get real high and then have freaky sex,” he said, grinning at her lecherously.

My wife blushed and bowed her head so that some hair fell in front of her face. She peeked at him from behind her hair meekly. “Tell me more,” she said, still holding his hand in her lap.

I gulped and tried to find my voice. “Urgh,” was all I could manage.

Sam gave me a strange look then returned his attention to my wife. “Well, you know, we start out nice and comfy on the couch, with some nice smoke, wine, and good tunes.”

“Sort of like this,” offered my wife bashfully, keeping both hands on Sam’s as it rested on her thigh.

Peter snorted from his supine location on the floor and Sam gave me a curious look. When he saw that I was too dazed to object, he squeezed my wife’s thigh tentatively. She met his eye and didn’t say a word about it. “Yeah, well,” he laughed. “Sort of I guess. And you know, we fool around a little bit.”

“Like, what do you do?” asked my wife, growing a little bolder.

Sam looked at me again, but I was struggling to keep my eyes open at this point.

“Well, you know, we kiss, and I squeeze my lady friend’s tits and try to get her to take her bra off so I can reach up her shirt and feel her nipples,” he said, looking down at my wife’s chest suggestively.

Mandy put her hands on her boobs self consciously. “Then what?” she asked breathily.

“Oh, you know, and then I put her hand on my jock and she will start gripping my rod though my pants,” he tells her with a grin. “So then I unzip and I let her suck my dick for a little while.”

“Oh yeah?” asked my wife, obviously intrigued as she cupped her breasts in her hands distractedly.

“Ok, that’s uh, enough information,” I stammer, jealousy pulling me out of my pot coma for a moment.

“What’s the matter, you got something against blowjobs?” Sam asked me with a wicked grin.

“Of course not,” I stammered. “It’s just, well, sort of improper.”

“Mandy, shame on you,” he scolded my wife. “If he thinks your blowjobs are improper, you aren’t doing it right.”

“Oh, stop it, Sam,” chuckled my wife, patting him on the thigh. Fairly high up on the thigh, pretty close to where a bulge was forming. “I do my husband quite properly.” Then she paused and screwed up her face, looking at me sadly. “It’s just that we don’t get around to it as much as we used to I guess.”

“Mandy!” I squawked, nearly fully awake at this point. “Come on, that’s personal.”

“Well, you know, we’ve been together seven years, of course things are bound to cool down a little,” explained my wife hurriedly.

“That’s between the two of us,” I complained. “You shouldn’t talk about it in front of guests.”

“You are right, dear, I’m sorry, let’s change the subject,” agreed my wife with a sigh. Then she got up and grabbed the wine. “Have some more wine,” she said soothingly as she poured me another big glass.

I took the wine and drank it down to calm my nerves.

“Yeah, well, anyway, once my lady friend is done sucking my cock, I like to strip her naked and do her right on the couch,” continued Sam, picking up where he left off.

“Wow, that sounds hot,” said my wife sitting down right next to Sam, even closer than she had before. “Do you like to do them missionary or doggystyle?”

“Mandy!” I complained.

“What? I’m just curious,” said my wife with a hurt expression.

“I thought we were changing the subject,” I said, stifling a yawn.

“Doggystyle usually,” put in Sam under his breath.

Mandy pouted in response. “Oh, I prefer missionary actually. Call me old fashioned.”

“Honey!” I said in shock. Then I yawned fully. “Ok, I think this conversation has gone far enough, I’m beat. Let’s just call it night, shall we?”

“But, I’m not tired yet,” whined my wife. I heard that tone in her voice and I shivered in dread.

“But this conversation is making me uncomfortable,” I said.

“Oh, come on, honey, you are just being a cranky baby,” laughed my wife, jumping to her feet. She came over and grabbed me by the hands and leaned back with all her might, helping me climb to her feet. “We don’t mean anything by a little friendly banter,” she said. “Let me put you to bed and I will stay up with my friends for a little bit longer.”

“Uh, I don’t know,” I said, failing to suppress another yawn.

“Oh shit, look at you, man, you can barely keep your eyes open,” said Sam compassionately. “Sorry for pushing the boundaries there, pal. But I was just joking around. We won’t talk about sex any more, I promise. It’s sort of funny while you are sitting there, but I wouldn’t do it while you weren’t around. Go on to bed, your wife is safe with us.”

“Yeah, right,” I muttered, swaying slightly on my feet.

My wife bolstered me up and turned me around,” Say goodnight, honey,” she told me.

The whole situation seemed fishy to me, but I didn’t trust my instincts. After all, people always got paranoid when they smoked pot. Maybe I was just being paranoid. I decided to trust my wife. “Alright well, good night guys,” I said.

“Good night, man,” said Sam, with a friendly wave.

“Sleep well,” called Peter, climbing to his feet and taking a seat in my chair.

“Jeez, look at you, acting all suspicious,” chuckled my wife as she lead me down the hall to our bedroom.

“Well it was getting pretty explicit there,” I said, falling into bed with a thump. It felt so good to lay there that I didn’t even feel like getting changed.

“Pish, posh, just a lot of talk,” she said, unzipping my pants and pulling them off me before shoving me under the covers.

“But now you are going to go back out there and…” I could barely keep my eyes open.

“And do what? Are you really afraid I will go make out with Sam with Peter sitting right there?” she laughed.

“Uh,” I said, my eyes closing of their own accord.

“You just sleep, you smoked too much and drank too much wine,” she said, bending down to give me a kiss. “I’ll come to bed in a hour or so.”

I must have dozed right off then because the next thing I knew I was awoken by a horrible need to urinate. The room was dark and my wife was not there in bed with me. My bladder was bursting and my mouth tasted like hot copper. I staggered shakily out of bed and went down the hall to the bathroom. I could still hear voices and music from the living room as I ducked into the bathroom to unleash a wicked stream of piss. When I was finally done, I stumbled out to the living room to see what was going on and get a glass of water.

I found my wife sitting a bit stiffly on the couch a little farther from Sam than she was before, and Peter was still sitting across from them. She looked at bit guilty when I showed up

“Oh, you are up,” said Mandy awkwardly.

“Yeah and our guests are still here,” I said looking at Sam and Peter with displeasure, then I looked down and noticed that Mandy had taken her jeans and bra off and left them on the floor. She was sitting there in nothing but her panties and tshirt. “And you are half undressed for some reason,” I said stupidly.

“Oh I was just getting comfortable, dear, don’t be so mistrustful,” said Mandy. “Here, let’s get you a nice glass of water and put you back to bed.” She jumped up and ran to the kitchen to grab me a glass of water, and Peter and Sam both admired her shapely bare legs as she dashed off.

“Are you feeling a little better?” asked Sam politely. He was holding his hands over his crotch from some reason. It was a little dark in the room, but I could almost swear that his fly was half unzipped.

“Yeah, that weed really knocked me out,” I admitted. “But this whole situation is making me a little uncomfortable,” I said gesturing toward them.

“Oh, it’s perfectly harmless, we are just all talking,” said Peter, struggling to maintain a straight face.

“And meanwhile my wife took off her bra and her pants,” I said, rubbing my head and yawning.

“Well, you can hardly blame us for not complaining about that,” laughed Sam.

“I was just getting comfortable, I TOLD you,” said Mandy, walking back into the room with my glass of ice water. Peter, Sam and I all watched her jiggling boobs, as she approached, her hard nipples poking through her thin t-shirt, boobs bobbing up and down as she walked.

I took the water gratefully and drank it down, exhaustion still heavy upon me.

“Now back to bed with you, sir,” she told me sternly, leading me back down the hall to the bedroom.

I held my tongue until we got back to the bedroom and I had climbed back into bed with a sigh of relief. “Honey, your nipples are showing, you should put on a robe or something,” I said as my lids drooped sleepily.

“Oh, don’t be silly, I’m sure those guys have seen plenty of nipples,” she laughed, tucking me in.

“But you are my wife,” I objected drowsily.

“And I will still be your wife if they see my boobies,” she said kissing me on the forehead.

For some reason this thought didn’t disturb me and in fact, my penis grew stiff at the thought of my pretty little wife going out and taking her shirt off for these two big jocks. And with that perverted thought, I fell asleep again. I woke up again just a short time later thinking about my wife. All sorts of thoughts bounced around in my head.

Was I just being paranoid from the weed, or was she really flirting with Sam? But then Peter was sitting right there with them so she wouldn’t do anything unseemly in front of him, would she? Yet, she decided it was OK to take of her bra and pants in front of them. She must have done it right there in the living room instead of coming back to the bedroom, so she WANTED them to see her undressing. It’s true that our love life had cooled recently. Maybe my pretty little wife was getting excited by the attention from this big fellow Sam. She certainly enjoyed rubbing his muscular sixpack. Was this all really my own fault for neglecting my wife sexually?

What were they getting up to now that they thought I was sound asleep? I normally wouldn’t spy on my wife, but I felt a strong urge to sneak down the hall and peek around the corner to and see what they were doing. I know it’s silly, but that’s just what I did. First, I turned the bedroom door handle very very carefully so that it wouldn’t click loudly. Once I had the door open I could hear their voices murmuring, so our guests were still here, but the music had been turned off.

I crept carefully down the hall, staying close to the wall so that the floorboards wouldn’t creak. When I got close enough to the living room to make out what they were saying, I stopped and listened for a moment.

“He must be sound asleep still,” said Sam.

“Oh, I know,” agreed my wife, her voice was muffled.

“I mean, I can go into the other room if you two want some privacy,” said Peter.

“What’s the matter, don’t you want to watch?” asked my wife playfully.

What the hell were they talking about? My heart started to pound in my chest and I had to resist the urge to go running out there to confront my wife.

“I think it would be pretty hot if Peter watched,” said Sam and there was some suspicious sounding rustling on the couch. “And you said that your husband isn’t fucking you enough lately, so what’s the problem? Aren’t you into this?”

“Oh, I’m definitely into it, I’m horny as hell right now, but I just feel guilty,” whined my wife. But her whine didn’t have the same effect on Sam as it had on me, he kept right on pushing.

“Shit, he won’t ever know anything about it. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” he murmured.

“Hmm, I guess that’s true,” said Mandy. And then there was some quiet rustling on the couch for a moment.

“Oh shit, you guys are really doing this,” mumbled Peter in amazement.

My stomach was roiling and I was about to go marching out there when I realized that my penis was as stiff as a board as I listened to the little wet smooching sounds from the other room. I don’t know what possessed me, but I wanted to see what they were doing. So I got down on all fours and crept to the end of the hall and peeked around the corner into the living room. There was a potted fern right there to shield me and I could see the back of Peter’s chair and then my wife and Sam on the couch facing him. They had their arms around each other and were kissing passionately with mouths open. My blood ran cold at the sight of it, but I just crouched there, on all fours, peeping at them as my wife made out with her guy friend on the couch.

Sam wasted no time and quickly slid his hand up the front of my wife’s t-shirt and started kneading her boobs and pinching her nipples under her shirt. I heard her whimper with pleasure and it cut me like a knife, but my dick just kept getting harder and harder as I watched this big jock feel up my wife.

“Oh yeah, get them titties,” encouraged Peter drunkenly. “Stealing second base, bro!”

I gasped quietly when I saw my wife reach over urgently and grip Sam’s cock which had already been protruding from his half-unzipped pants. She unzipped his fly fully and yanked his pants halfway down his thighs so that she could get a hold of his cock and balls. I watched in pain and arousal as she stroked Sam’s bare penis, up and down, up and down, cupping his balls in her other hand.

“Holy fuck, dude, this is awesome, she is on your jock big time,” said Peter, slapping his hand to his head in amazement.

“Jeepers, Peter, you are like a little boy,” laughed my wife, pulling her mouth away from Sam’s but looking him in the eye as she stroked his meat. “Hmm, do you like that, baby?” she asked him breathily.

“Oh yeah, I like it, do you like it?” he asked her, stripping off his shirt easily as my wife tugged on his penis, giving him a vigorous handjob. I could barely catch my breath. I was there crouching behind a fern watching my wife give some other guy a fucking handjob on our couch. What the hell was going on here? Why was I not jumping up and interrupting this blatant infidelity?

“Hmm, yeah, I like your penis, it’s nice and hard,” my wife told Sam in a husky voice rubbing her other hand over his muscular chest.

I was angry at my wife for saying that, but I realized that I was too embarrassed to run out there and break it up. It would be a horrible scene. Besides, a part of me felt guilty for not paying more romantic attention to my wife. It had been a month since she and I had had sex. Now she was turning to other men for affection. So instead of jumping up to interrupt them, I just reached down and pulled my hardon out of my boxers and started stroking myself quietly while I spied on my wife and her new lover getting it on on the couch.

“This is so fucking hot you guys,” gushed Peter. “Don’t mind me, but I’m just gonna spank my fucking monkey while I watch.”

“Go nuts, Peter,” said my wife glancing over at him with a grin and I ducked back behind the plant so she wouldn’t see me, but she was too drunk, high, and horny to notice me here, peeking around the corner on my hands and knees.

“Here take your shirt off and show us those titties,” said Sam.

My wife released her grip on his johnson and readily complied with his demand. She rose gracefully and stood before Sam, stripping off her shirt and tossing it aside.

“Oh, fuck, nice fucking rack, bitch!” he said jerking his own penis as he ogled my wife’s bare boobs. It irked me that she let him call her a bitch without so much of a peep in protest. “Shake ‘em for me,” he ordered. And I watched my wife’s bare back in dismay as she shimmied her shoulders and shook her tits for this dumb jock.

“Hey, I want to see, too,” complained Peter, and I felt the same way. So I was gratified when Mandy turned to face Peter and gave her tits one more shimmy for his benefit. I enjoyed watching her big pale orbs bouncing side to side, hard pink nipples twirling in all directions. “Super hot,” grunted Peter in appreciation. And I secretly agreed, I had to slow down my own masturbation so that I wouldn’t cum too soon.

“Ok, bitch, now get on your knees, and suck this dick,” commanded Sam, kicking his pants away and standing naked before my wife with his thick erection pointing straight at her belly button.

“Oh, yessir, Mr. Man,” she laughed. “You are feeling big and tough, I guess. I like it.” Then she obediently lowered herself to her knees before him and I watched in a mix of horror and titillation as she gripped his hips and wrapped her lips around the red swollen glans of his cock.

“Oh, fuuuuck, yeah,” he moaned loudly, tilting his head back as my wife slid his cock in and out of her mouth, her head bobbing up and and down as she engulfed and then released his shaft.

“Suck my balls,” he demanded, and my stomach lurched as my pretty little wife submissively ducked her head and lapped at his balls. There was my woman, topless, on her knees before this big meathead, sucking his nutsack for him while his pal watched and laughed and jerked his own meat.

“Suck those nuts like you mean it, Mandy,” Peter giggled, offering encouragement.

“Jeez, I am, look how big his balls are, Peter,” responded my wife with a grin, weighing Sam’s sagging testicles in her hand.

“Seriously,” agreed Peter. “Dude’s gotta have a big pair of stones to fuck another man’s wife while her hubby is sleeping it off just down the hall.”

Mandy made a face at him. “Don’t be a buzzkill, Peter, I’m trying not to think about my loving husband while I suck on another man’s scrotum.”

“Yeah man, keep the peanut gallery comments to a minimum,” ordered Sam. “Ok, baby, are you ready?”

“Ready for what, sir?” asked my wife, looking up at him with adoration, topless and kneeling before him.

“Ready to take it,” he grunted. “You said you like it old fashioned, right?”

“That’s me, an old fashioned girl,” she laughed and I felt a lump in my throat as my wife reached down the front of her panties and felt herself. “Yep, I’m pretty wet. I’m ready.”

“Good, stand up. Take off your fucking panties. Show Peter your cooch, then lay back on that couch and spread your goddamn whore legs so I can climb on top of you and fuck the shit out of you,” he snarled passionately, holding his big meat in his hand.

“Ohh, you are a rough boy, you are making me hot with that nasty talk,” cooed my wife. And I felt my blood pounding in my ears as my little wife stood up and subserviently pulled down her panties. She turned and flashed her bush at Peter as instructed. “Do you like my pussy, Peter?” she asked coquettishly.

“Yeah, I like ‘em a little bushy,” he gasped, and I could hear him increase the pace as he frantically jerked his pud. My own dick was getting raw from me jerking it while I watched my wife debasing herself with these men.

Mandy lay back on the couch and spread her legs for Sam, docilely offering her snatch to him. I could feel myself rapidly approaching climax. The big man practically lept onto my horizontal wife and he plunged his thick cock right into her waiting cunt. She groaned loudly in pleasure and wrapped her arms around him. I was practically gasping for breath watching his muscular buttocks started pumping up and down as he violated my wife carnally on my own couch. Her little moans and whimpers of passion were too much for me and I spurted cum all over the hallway carpet. I would have to remember to sneak back here tomorrow and clean this up.

My wife was crying out now, calling her new lover’s name in abandon, “Oh yeah, fuck me Sam, Fuck me,” she called, practically shouting.

“Shit Mandy, keep it down a little, you are gonna wake your husband up,” warned Peter. He jumped up and turned toward hall where I was peeping, dick in hand, with a look of fear on his face. I ducked back behind the corner, my heart pounding. I would be so mortified to be caught peeking in on this tawdry scene.

“Did you see something?” asked my wife with concern.

“No, I, I must be stoned still or something, but you should keep it down a little,” said Pete.

I quietly climbed to my feet and crept back down the hall until I could just barely make out their voices.

“I don’t give a fuck at this point, bro,” grunted Sam and the I could hear the couch springs creaking rhythmically as he resumed pounding my wife.

“Oh God, yes, do it, do it,” begged my wife. “Fuck me, Sam, fuck me.”

‘Oh man, yeah, fuck that slut, bro, fuck her,” laughed Peter, loosening up. I felt like crying as I listened to them carrying on and I crept back to bed feeling strangely empty.

I had jerked off watching my wife getting owned by another man and it had made me cum to see her cuckolding me. But now I felt a little sad and left out. I closed the bedroom door behind me as quietly as I could and climbed back into bed. In my mind’s eye, I could still see Sam’s ass pumping up and down as he penetrated my wife. Right now he was probably in there spurting his seed deep inside my little woman while his buddy cheered him on and she wantonly gave herself up to him. The very thought made my cock start inflating again even though I had just cum and I half-considered sneaking back out there to watch the finale when I heard the faint sounds of my wife screaming in climax all the way down the hall. I must have dozed off again after that, because the next I knew, Mandy was quietly closing the bedroom door behind her. The sun was starting to come up and I could see that her shirt was on inside out, the seams were showing and the tag was sticking out.

I leaned up on one elbow and greeted her groggily. “Wow, finally coming to bed, I see,” I said.

She nearly jumped out of her skin and turned to me with a look of total shock. “Oh, god, baby, you scared me to death. I thought you were sleeping.”

“I woke up a couple of time from all the shouting,” I said, trying to play it cool. What was done was done, but I wanted to make her squirm a bit. “Sounded like you had a good time.”

“Ha, yeah. Those guys are a real hoot,” she said, running her hands through her hair and finding a big glob of cum. She looked at it in embarrassment for a moment before wiping it hastily on her shirt.

“What’s that?” I asked, playing dumb.

“Oh, nothing, a bit of gunk from somewhere I guess, I need to take a shower,” she said, blushing furiously.

“Uh, why is your shirt on inside out?” I asked, trying to seem innocent, but relishing the look on her face as the color drained away.

“Is it, really? I didn’t notice,” she stammered, yanking her shirt off and tossing it in the hamper.

“You must have been having more fun than I thought,” I commented and rolled over, turning my back to her.

“Oh, come on honey, I don’t know what you are suggesting,” sputtered my wife nervously. “I mean really now.”

“I’m just teasing you dear,” I admitted. “I’m sure you didn’t do anything naughty with those two guys. In fact, I really enjoyed having those guys over. I think I like getting stoned. We should have them over again some time.”

“Really?” croaked my wife, climbing into bed next to me.

“Yes, really,” I said, turning to kiss her on the cheek while I tried to think of which local nursery would have a bigger plant for me to replace that fern with so that I would have a better hiding place next time.