Sherry and I had been married for nineteen years. We had always had a decent sex life, but each year we fucked less and less. It had gotten to the point that we only did it on special occasions: anniversaries, New Year's Eve or Valentine's Day.

Over a glass of wine, we talked about it. We agreed that we still loved each other. We additionally found each other’s bodies attractive and desirable. Sherry sheepishly suggested there simply was something missing.

We decided to bring up the issue with our respective physicians at the upcoming yearly physicals.

I ended up seeing my internist and had the usual exam and routine blood tests. According to his PA, I had the body of a thirty-year-old, plus normal PSA. My testosterone level was high-normal.

Sherry had similar good news from her gym. The “down there” exam was normal, she had a normal BMI and blood work was all normal.

Much of what we heard was not unexpected. We didn’t smoke, at most, we drank one or occasionally two glasses of wine per day and we exercised religiously. We jogged together five miles each morning. Sherry did Pilates three times a week and I hit Planet Fitness every other day.

Sherry was 5’ 2” and a toned 105#, a dirty blond with gray eyes, freckles across her nose. At 6’ 1”, I weighed in at 180. It looked like we should have been good to go.

One surprise came out of Sherry’s gyn visit. It was suggested her low libido could be helped with low-dose testosterone. In fact, Sherry had picked up her prescription of Androgel from CVS on her way home from the clinic.

I took this to be a good sign for our love life.

I didn’t see much change for three or four weeks. Gradually Sherry became more touchy-feely. A hand on the shoulder here, a peck on the cheek there. She also began dressing subtly differently. Most of the time she was now braless (not that I minded). Additionally, she began wearing almost sprayed-on yoga pants and shorts for not only our runs; but also for Pilates or even trips to the grocery.

At around six weeks, our sex life changed for the better. Sherry seemed more interested in physical contact and was now initiating lovemaking. I wasn’t sure it could get any better.

Slowly but surely, Sherry began to change. She lost all body fat except for her 32B tits. She joined Planet Fitness and now accompanied me to work out. Each session she’d burn up the stair-stepping apparatus for forty-five minutes, do fifty pushups and a hundred crunches. Her body transformed into the prototypical Instagram influencer.

Our lovemaking became more like lust-making. We began fucking all over the house: the shower, on the kitchen island, on the shag rug (no pun intended) in the den and even leaning over the Maytag on spin cycle.

Sherry’s orgasms had always been clitoris-centric. That’s not to say, she didn’t cum from G-spot stimulation or when I would rim her anus; but 75% of the time, the magic was in the clit.

As time went on, the percentage of clitoral orgasm increased to 99%. The reason was no mystery. Sherry’s clit had doubled or tripled in size on the testosterone. When I would go down on her, I’d lick along the inside of her labia, then up and down her taint. If I spent any excess time rimming her, she’d pull my head to the point my mouth was on her man in the boat. As I licked and sucked up and down its sheath, I could feel it hardening into an erection, expanding from approximately a #2 pencil diameter to perhaps 3/8 inch girth.

If I sucked her cock head, she’d cum within seconds.

Our fucking positions also changed. Prior to the male hormones, Sherry loved the missionary position with her ass at the edge of the bed. I’d eat her pussy, then stand and flex each of her knees across my bent elbows. I’d then pound the daylight out of her stretched snatch. We’d frequently cum simultaneously with me then collapsing exhausted onto her belly and perky little tits.

After testosterone, she preferred the three-legged doggy. While I mounted and drilled her, she’d first lick her right index and long fingers; then rub her clit into a rocking orgasm. Her moaning and spasms always brought me to a satisfying release.

At times, Sherry rode me cowgirl style. Her technique was always the same. She’d start by slipping my meat into her hot oven, leaning forward with her hands on my pecs. We would lock eyes. She would lick her lips as a signal that she was going to give me the fucking of a lifetime.

Sherry did all the work. She slowly rocked her pelvis, pumping in and out like an oil field pump jack. After five or so minutes, she’d rise up on her knees, still pistoning my rod inside her steaming twat.

Locking eyes, Sherry would use her left index and long fingers to spread her labia away from her girl dick. She’d suck her right index and social fingers again, adding saliva as lubricant.

Excruciatingly slowly, Sherry would pull her saliva-dripping digits from her mouth and begin jacking off her mega-clit.

Within three or four minutes, she’d close her eyes, take a deep breath and hold it. Sherry would stop pumping my cock, focusing instead on her impending explosion. While massaging her erection, she’d lean backward slightly; then abruptly throw herself forward, groaning in the ecstasy of orgasm.

I would watch her face. As she fell forward, her mouth and eyes would fly open, plus saliva dripped from her lips onto my belly and chest. I’d grit my teeth and pump upward a single time. This was enough to bring me past the brink. I’d explode, filling her pussy with my squirting hot jizz.

Sherry had incredible stamina. At Planet Fitness, she added a half hour to her aerobic routine. She continued on the mat; but now she was up to seventy-five pushups, two-hundred crunches, and recently twenty-five pull-ups.

People started to notice. Both genders would watch her exercise routine. It was clear to me the men, at least, were additionally scoping out her sweaty camel toes and clit. I can’t explain it; but when I’d see a guy licking his lips while ogling her crotch, I’d spring a boner. More than once, I had to rush to the locker room to hide my growing erection.

On one such occasion, I hurried to the locker room, figuring I’d stand at the urinal until my arousal abated. While I stood there nonchalantly looking at the tile and mildewed grout, two college-aged guys came laughing into the dressing area.

“Man, did you see the pussy on that cute little MILF?”

The response: “See it? I could almost smell and taste it!”

“I’d like to hop on that and give it a good fucking. How ‘bout this? I’ll doggy her while she sucks your cock.”

“She’s wearing a ring. I’m betting her old man can’t keep up with that.”

I couldn’t take anymore. Without bothering to cram my junk back into my Adidas shorts, I pulled away from the urinal and entered the last stall. I pulled my shorts down around my ankles and squatted, facing the plumbing and wall. I could feel my scrotum and eggs touching the no-doubt filthy porcelain. I didn’t care. I needed to relieve the wicked built-up tension in my nads. I closed my eyes and envisioned the two studs pleasuring Sherry. I should have been pissed, but I was far from it. I jerked my love stick feverishly in cadence as the two muscle boys in my fantasy fucked her mouth and cunt. Within seconds we all three came, my load splattering the tile.

Sherry and I developed a date night routine. It gave us an excuse to get out of the house and dress up a little bit. Sherry called it “acting like adults”.

Not too far from the house was a multi-use complex with a golf course, a dozen corporate headquarters, several higher-end hotels, and at least six or eight casual restaurants. We particularly liked the happy hour at Callahan’s, a smallish piano bar and bistro at the Grand Hyatt.

Sherry and I would hit the stools at the bar and order a glass each of the house Sauvignon Blanc. The pours were generous and at $6.50 per glass, it was hard to beat. Usually, by five-thirty or so, we’d be on our second glasses and feeling mellow. To slow down the effects of the alcohol (particularly on tiny Sherry), we would order a flatbread and perhaps the carpaccio.

On one such afternoon, we valet-parked our classic 1963 Volvo at the hotel and headed across the lobby toward Callahan’s. I was crossing my fingers that the kid taking the keys would be able to park without incident. He appeared more than distracted by Sherry. I had to admit she looked hot. She wore a ruffly, white off-the-shoulder top that was cropped halfway between her braless breasts and the top of her Capri pants. Completing her ensemble, were CFM (come fuck me) four-inch wedges.

I wasn’t upset by the valet ogling Sherry, nor the gentlemen sitting around the lobby undressing her with their eyes. No, in fact, I began to develop an erection.

Finding open stools at the bar wasn’t much of a challenge. Most people were sitting at the scattered tables, particularly those near the fireplace and piano.

Sherry sat to my right, her right leg crossed over her left thigh. Within minutes, she began slowly pumping her right leg. I caught her eye and just winked. She had told me a week earlier (after two glasses of Kim Crawford) that this stimulated her clit in a clandestine fashion.

We were finishing our first glasses of Sauvignon Blanc and had ordered bar food: Sherry, the carmelized onion flatbread and I, toasted ravioli with marinara sauce.

As we began eating (with fresh glasses of Scheid), a nearby voice queried, “Are the flatbreads any good?"

I leaned forward and around Sherry to answer, “Ask her, she ordered it.”

Sherry looked at me, then the stranger. “The onions are sweet, but they do complement the Brie. You want a bite?”

Without waiting for a reply, Sherry lifted a small rectangle of flatbread up to his mouth. He bit off half and Sherry finished the rest of the piece. She licked her thumb and fingers while continuing eye contact.

Our bar mate stuck out his hand toward me, causing Sherry to lean backward a few inches. “The name’s Rick. You?”

“Sherry and Jay,” I replied.

It turned out, Rick was a salesman for the chip maker AMD. He was in town for a week, mainly meeting the tech people at Dell. He volunteered that he was staying the week, there at the Hyatt.

Rick seemed affable; however, it was clear he was attracted to Sherry. He directed much of his conversation toward her and was unequivocally undressing her with his eyes. I could tell Sherry liked the attention. She subtly rotated toward Rick, began twirling her short ponytail with her left fingers and increased the pace of her leg pumping. At times when she laughed, she leaned toward him and touched his left forearm.

The thought of her pussy getting wet gave me yet another erection.

Sherry excused herself to visit the ladies’ room. Rick sipped the last of his Manhattan and proclaimed, “Sorry Jay, but I’ve got to drain the lizard.”

I smiled and watched him disappear down the dark hall toward the restrooms.

After a few minutes (that seemed like hours), Sherry returned from the ladies’ room. Her cheeks were red and she was adjusting her top. Rick walked by and tossed a twenty onto the bar, “Hope to see you guys soon.”

“What’s going on?” I asked Sherry.

“Rick was waiting when I came out of the restroom. He pulled me around the corner and kissed me. He pulled my top up and bit my nipples. He said he was going to give me a good fucking.”

“What’d you say?” I asked incredulously.

“I didn’t say anything. I just pulled my top down and stormed out here.”

We finished our drinks and food. As we walked out to the car, Sherry held my hand. Before we could pull out of the lot, she said, “Wait. You know I love you. Right?”

Sherry leaned over and placed her left hand behind my neck, pulling me into a deep kiss. With her right hand, she fumbled with my belt buckle and zipper.

I moved the driver’s seat back and reclined it. Sherry wasted no time. She pulled out my semi-hard meat and began sucking it. She frantically bobbed her head up and down; all the time making slurping and satisfying noises. She jacked and wrung out my cock with her tiny right hand.

Within minutes I was on the brink. I warned her. Always before, Sherry had asked that I shoot on her tits or into her hand; never into her mouth. She shook her head and jacked me even harder.

I rolled my eyes and let the sensation overwhelm me. I pumped load after load into Sherry’s mouth. I could both feel and hear her swallowing my jizz.

Sherry rose from my lap and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. I pulled her into another deep kiss. As we joined our tongues, I could taste the salty-sweetness of my own cum.

The next day was uneventful. I had to go to work for a couple of hours. Sherry was volunteering at a homeless shelter downtown. We both got home around three-thirty. I figured I’d grab a beer, catch up on my email, and take a nap. Sherry had other ideas.

I should have known when she started, “I’ve been thinking.”

I had the Pabst halfway to my lips when she continued, “Would you like to hit Callahan’s again this afternoon? I feel like getting pretty and having a glass of cheap wine.”

I knew she really wanted to see Rick. Did that mean she wanted him to make another pass? I nodded, “Sure. Let me hit the shower.”

Sherry joined me in the shower. We lathered up each other in all the right places. We embraced and kissed, but controlled our passions otherwise. I couldn’t help but wonder if Sherry was fantasizing about running her hands all over Rick’s naked body.

We hit the Hyatt around 4:30 and valet-parked. The same kid from the day before opened Sherry’s door. I could tell he was ogling her snatch. When she pivoted in the passenger seat, her short sundress rode up well above mid-thigh.

Sherry looked good enough to eat. Her short blond hair was pulled back into a prairie dog tail. She had selected a royal blue sundress with white polka dots. Complimenting this were thin-soled white sandals. She gave off the vibe of an Ole Miss coed walking through the Grove on game day.

We entered the darkness of Callahan’s. It took a few seconds to accommodate the change in light level. There, sitting at the short L of the bar was Rick. He smiled and waved us over.

Rick rose from his stool and greeted us, shaking my hand and kissing Sherry on the cheek. It struck me that Rick was pretty cock sure of himself. I suppose our presence reinforced that. He pulled back the stool adjacent to his and motioned Sherry toward it. That left me sitting in the corner.

Rick was already halfway through a Manhattan. I got the eye of the bartender and ordered us two Scheids.

Rick wasted no time flirting with Sherry. He complimented her on the dress, told her how cute her little ponytail was, and even commented on her perfume. Seemingly with each comment, he moved closer and touched her more. Ultimately by the time our drinks arrived, his right hand was on her left thigh.

I was pretty much out of the conversation after about fifteen minutes. By that time, I’d already chugged my first glass of Sauvignon Blanc and ordered another. As I leaned forward to take a sip, I saw that not only was Rick’s hand well underneath Sherry’s dress, but hers was clearly caressing his khaki-covered erection.

Rick looked me in the eye and smirked.

Sherry must have sensed my unease, as she announced a need to use the ladies’ room. Without missing a beat, Rick suggested he’d keep her company. They walked back the dark hallway, his arm around her waist.

Even though it seemed like they were gone for hours, in reality, it was perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes. A rough gauge was my empty wine glass. Finally, Rick emerged from the darkness and just walked by and out the door.

Sherry followed within a minute or two. Not only were her otherwise pale cheeks red, but her chest above the sundress was flushed. I recognized this as the blush of an orgasm.

Sherry climbed back onto her barstool and took two pulls from her wine glass. She simply said, “I needed that.”

I wasn’t sure whether she meant the wine or the obvious climax.

She placed her hand on my shoulder and pulled me close for a kiss. She whispered, “You know I love you. Right?”

Before I could answer, she added, “This is something I need to do.”

I asked her what had happened during their absence and more specifically, if he had kissed her again. Her response was telling, “No, I kissed him.”

Sherry went on to tell me she had taken Rick past the restrooms to the darkness of the back exit corridor. She claimed she was “dripping” wet before they even rounded the corner.

I could feel my cock begin to stir. I knew I was making a wet spot on the front of my linen slacks.

She stated she had pulled his face toward hers and initiated a deep kiss, “I could taste the bourbon and sweet vermouth on his tongue. It was intoxicating. I wanted his tongue in my pussy. I wanted his big cock in my mouth. Oh, Jay, I’m so ashamed.”

Sherry described how Rick could read her mind, “You want it, don’t you?” As he spoke this, he had bent down and cupped her ass cheeks, lifting her upward. She indicated that without further thought she had locked her hands around his neck, hopped, and locked her legs around his waist.

Sherry added, “I knew it was the wrong place, but I wanted him to pull out his dick and fuck me then and there.”

I raised one eyebrow. Sherry caught on, “No, he didn’t fuck me, at least with his dick. He held me up with one hand and finger fucked me with the other. I came within seconds.”

Sherry laid her head on my shoulder and placed her hand on my upper thigh. She circled my boner with her tiny fingers. She looked up and asked, “We both want this, don’t we?”

I nodded, then kissed her forehead.

Sherry pulled out a black plastic room card. “He’s in room 702. He said to come up whenever we’re ready. He wants us both.”

“Both? You mean a three-way?” I queried.

“No. He wants you to watch while he does to me anything and everything he desires. I told him I want his big dick in all my holes and that you’d be OK, no more than OK with it.”

Sherry released my cock and slid off the stool. She grabbed my hand and started to lead me toward the elevator bank. “By the way, Rick said to pick up his tab.”

Sherry tapped on the door of room 702 and without waiting, used the keycard to open the door. We were met by sunlight and what sounded like country instrumentals. I recognized a Keith Urban melody. On the way up the elevator, I had envisioned a dark room, maybe a candle or two, and Rick in a velvet smoking jacket.

What we encountered was far from it. Glass made up two sides of what was likely a studio suite. One side was filled with a California king, a padded bench at its foot. Across the room was a full-sized couch, a coffee table and two end tables. A counter held an ice bucket, multiple old-fashioned glasses and two bottles of amber-colored alcohol.

Rich rose from the couch. He had changed his clothes, now wearing sweats and a skin-tight Under Armor tee. His huge pecs and bull-like shoulders were intimidating.

Rick greeted us, shaking my hand again. He kissed Sherry, but not on the cheek like at the bar. He put one hand behind her neck and one on her ass, drawing her into a deep mouth-on-mouth kiss. Sherry made a satisfied mewing sound as if she were tasting rich chocolate cake. Her eyes were shut.

I stood there like a third wheel.

Rick finally broke the embrace and led Sherry over to the couch. As they sat, he pointed to the corner shelf and the ice bucket. “How ‘bout being a good guy and go get some ice? Take the key, so you can get back in.”

I used the keycard to get back in. There was a moment of panic when it didn’t work. Had Rick locked me out? No, it was just upside down.

The couple had wasted no time while I was down the hall. Rick was still on the couch, but Sherry was now straddling him. She was passionately kissing him, holding his face in her hands. Her sundress was riding up to her waist. His large mitts her squeezing her ass cheeks, his meaty fingers beneath her pale blue thong.

Rick saw me and broke the tongue tournament long enough to tilt his head toward the bar. “Make us all a drink.”

I poured two fingers of Dettling 1867 into each of two glasses and added an ice cube to each. Sherry wasn’t much of a hard liquor drinker, so I made her a 7 & 7 of sorts with a can of Sprite from the minibar.

I turned 180 degrees to take the couple their drinks. Rick had removed his tee and Sherry her dress. Her lacy thong remained. They interrupted their love (lust) making long enough to take the drinks. Rick took a sip and placed his glass on the end table. Sherry chugged half her cocktail and handed the glass back to me. She resumed kissing and licking but shifted her attention to Rick’s pecs and nipples. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the couch. He growled, “That’s it, Baby. Suck Daddy’s nipples.”

I retrieved my Dettling and slumped into an easy chair across the room. I was the proverbial bump on a log.

Sherry began to lick her way from his pecs, across his cut six-pack to just below his navel; all while slowly inching herself off his lap. She knelt between his feet and ordered him to stand.

Rick stood with his tented sweatpants right against her face. She scooted backward a few inches, then reached up to his waistband. She pulled his pants down to his knees with one hand and levered his meat out with the other.

Rick’s cock was massive. It had to have been eight or nine inches long, with a girth to match. Presumably due to its weight, it hung pointing downward at a twenty or thirty-degree angle. A four-inch string of precum leaked from its cockhead.

Sherry caught the glistening drip with her index finger; then sucked it into her mouth, looking up at Rick in a coquettish fashion. Rick licked his own lips.

Sherry wasted no further time servicing Rick’s monster. She placed one hand above the other on his Hillerich & Bradsby and began jacking him off.

I looked down at my lap. At some point, I had unzipped and liberated my cock. My right fist covered the entire length of the shaft with only the purple head visible. Rick was both figuratively and literally more man than me.

“Suck Daddy’s cock, Baby. Suck it,” Rick commanded. He grabbed a handful of Sherry’s short blond hair and pulled her face to his meat.

“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered, allowing him to penetrate her lips.

I took a deep breath, then a long pull on my bourbon. I wanted to either punch Rick’s smug face or I wanted him to cum in my wife’s mouth. I wasn’t sure which. Rick looked over and leered at the same time he bucked his pelvis forward, pushing more of his rod into her welcoming mouth.

I knew Sherry was a talented cock sucker. After all, she’d brought me to Nirvana the day before, after only a few moments of work. Watching her hands jacking and rotating, her head bobbing and her lascivious moaning; led me to conclude her abilities were of porn star quality.

Rick pulled his slobbery sausage out of Sherry’s mouth and bent forward. With seemingly no effort, he hoisted her up; her arms around his neck and her legs pretzeled around his waist. I could see his purple cock between her upper thighs, the cockhead pressing against the butt floss traversing her pink anus.

Rick set Sherry down on the padded bench at the bottom of the king. “On your knees,” he ordered.

Sherry turned with her knees on the bench and her forearms on the mattress. Her tiny ass was creamy white and beyond sexy. Rick pulled her thong roughly to her knees, then down to her ankles and off. Sherry adjusted her position, widening her stance to allow unfettered access to her holes.

“Move your chair over. I’m gonna show you how a man eats a pussy,” Rick snarled. “Make it quick. Your little wife needs her Daddy to give her what you can’t.”

Rick dropped to his knees. He gave her a slap on the right ass cheek. Without pausing, he pulled her cheeks apart and sank his face into her private areas. I expected Sherry to recoil from his slap; but instead, she rotated and ground her anus and pussy back against his mouth and nose.

Sherry allowed her belly to sag, rotating her pelvis to bring her labia and clit closer to Rick’s lips and tongue. She began to pant, “Yeah, that’s it. Lick my ass. Lick my pussy. Suck my clit. Oh, yeah. That’s it. Don’t stop! Don’t stop!”

Rick did stop, at least momentarily. He stood and wiped his saliva and Sherry’s twat juice-covered mouth with the back of his hand. He placed his left hand on the small of her back and fisted his cock with the other. He slowly ran the precum-lubricated head up and down from her rosebud, across her taint, then between her wet labia to her erect clit. He lingered at both her girl cock and her anus. With each hesitation, Sherry let out an “Oh, yeah. That’s it.”

Rick stopped; his prick resting between Sherry’s wet inner lips, just short of her longing pussy. He looked at me. “If you can stop jerking your little prick for a minute, you can help me give your wife what you both know she needs.”

I arose as if in a trance. Rick replaced his cock-holding hand with mine. I mimicked his prior movements, massaging Sherry’s twat with Rick’s dripping dick. Sherry resumed her panting and begging for more. “Fuck me, Daddy. Fuck me hard. I’m your whore!”

Rick grabbed each of Sherry’s pelvic wings with his paws and pushed his hips forward. I directed his meat into my wife’s vagina.

I collapsed back into my chair and drained my glass. I needed another stiff drink, but was hesitant to leave the scene of my wife’s violation.

I had to give Rick credit. He knew how to fuck. He pistoned his rod in and out of Sherry’s love hole with seemingly little effort. With each partial withdrawal, her vaginal wall would evert slightly due to his considerable girth. Her pussy fit his schlong like a rubber glove.

Sherry dipped her head onto the mattress and rotated her face toward me. She smiled through gritted teeth and mouthed, “I love you.” She shifted her weight more to the opposite forearm and moved her right hand down between her thighs. I saw her fingertips caress Rick’s large balls, then disappear. I knew she was jacking off her freakishly sensitive clit.

She screamed, “Harder, fuck me harder. Fuck my cunt! Give me your cum!”

Rick’s face was getting red. He was glistening with sweat. I could hear his balls slapping Sherry’s taint and her ass, his belly.

I began to frantically jerk my meat to the rhythm of Rick’s thrusts. I was involuntarily holding my breath.

Sherry locked eyes with mine once more and bit her lower lip. I knew she was close to exploding. She raised her eyebrows and nodded, “I’m cumming, ugh, I’m cumming.”

Rick stiffened momentarily, holding Sherry perfectly stationary; then violently heaved forward with a grunt, “Shit, oh shit.” He fell farther forward, pinning Sherry between his sweaty body and the mattress.

I stood there surveying the scene. At some point, I had arisen from the chair. Additionally, at some point, I had ejaculated all over the carpet. My dripping cock was still in my hand.

I sighed. Although my pleasure had somehow been lost in Sherry’s, I didn’t care. I felt at peace and never more deeply in love.