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Faith and Faithfulness

Twilight Zone-like story of cosmic justice served on a man at the edge of infidelity

Greg’s wife, Kim, was in London on business for the week. They’d only been married a few years, but like most married men Greg looked forward to a few days of freedom, hanging out with his friends, doing what he wanted to do.

On Saturday night he met his single friends at a local bar. He went out fully intending to be a wingman, but the drunker he got, the more he rationalized that he also had needs, and if the opportunity for easy sex or a quick blowjob presented itself, maybe he’d take it up.

Alas, nothing happened, and after an underwhelming night, he found himself sitting in front of his laptop with 13 tabs open and his wife’s panties in his right hand. He lubed up his rock-hard dick, a dick his wife dutifully sucked twice a week, a dick his wife let take her virgin ass, in short, a dick that was never short of his wife’s attention.

Yet Greg, hornier than ever, still contemplated dipping it in some strange pussy, even making efforts to do so, less than 24 hours after his well-paid, faithful wife departed on business. On screen he watched a beautiful blonde (similar to his wife in fact – Greg loved blondes) get fingered for Euros by another woman in a snowy Czech park, and he dreamed of a wild sex life.

His hand gripping the lubed up shaft of his well-proportioned if average sized penis, he cursed himself and absentmindedly said a little prayer. It wasn’t a prayer one would find endorsed by any church, it was more a personal pleading, a complaint, to himself: “Oh God I feel so trapped. I love my wife, but God I miss the thrill of the chase, the unknown. Please help me.”

The next day, Sunday, Greg went golfing with friends. After 18 holes, they sat in the clubhouse drinking beer and flirting with the bartender Linda, a cute little brunette Latina with too tight pants and big bouncy breasts. His phone beeped. Greg and Kim lived in Seattle, so London was 8 hours ahead. It was a text from his wife asking if he wanted to chat. He sighed and dialed Kim.

“Oh honey, I’m so glad to talk to you! I’ve had such a great time!”

“Yeah?” Greg said absentmindedly, as Linda leaned over the bar joking with the guys, her brown tits jiggling in her low cut top. He caught a glimpse of her big aureole.

Kim happily recounted the great day she had, touring various sites like the Tower of London, and seeing Big Ben. Greg nodded absentmindedly as Linda caught his eye and smiled. Kim told him she was about to turn in for the night, and they said they loved each other (Greg perhaps a little lower than normal because it felt wrong and he didn’t want to be overheard saying sweet nothings on the phone). After hanging up Greg tried to flirt again, but Linda, having heard the conversation despite Greg's sneaky ways, turned her attention to Greg's friends.

Again he ended up in front of the computer watching a model, who reminded him of the bartender, Linda, leaking cum from her gaping pussy. He spurted his load into a second pair of his wife's panties, his warm sperm dripping through the lace. Absentmindedly rubbing the wet panties on his balls, he said another prayer, another whining complaint really, to the higher power:  “Please Lord, I love Kim but I gotta experience another pussy sometimes. Not often, just sometimes. Is that so bad? Please help me. Amen.”

Greg wasn’t a religious man, but his upbringing endeared him to this peculiar habit.

He felt a warm and woozy as he stood up, and attributed it to slight dehydration brought on by the hot sun and too much alcohol.

The next day he stopped by the desk of his favorite secretary, an admin assistant who was partial to dressing like a bimbo, makeup and hair overdone. He asked her to lunch and, tapping her red lacquered nails on the desk, she accepted.

He took her to a nice Italian restaurant and they drank wine and flirted, but Greg crossed the line.

“Mr. S_”, said his big breasted lunch date, “I don’t think that’s very appropriate. I like you, but you really should go home to your wife and talk to her like that.”

Red faced, Greg escorted her back to the office, apologizing profusely for his unseemly advances (and hoping HR wouldn't pay him an unwelcome visit). The secretary’s words had snapped him back to reality, and he felt foolish. To make matters worse, when he returned his wife instant messaged him in her loving, good natured way.

“Oh honey, I love you! I had such a great day. You are such a great husband. I’m so lucky to have you!”

He truly felt guilty. She was a great woman. “I love you too, babe,” he said, and he meant it, he really did.

What she said next drove home the point. “Honey, I have a favor to ask. One of my coworkers here, he’s been assigned to show me around. He asked if I wanted to see a show this evening. He said we can get tickets cheap. Would you be upset if I went with him?”

“A date at the movies?”

“No!” she laughed, “A live show, a musical, and it's not a date! I still thought I should run it by you."

“Yeah, fine by me,” Greg said, bewildered. “I can trust you right?”

Kim laughed; of course it was a joke.  She blew him a kiss over the screen and again told her husband how lucky she was to have him as a husband. Greg realized she looked incredible, prettier than any girl he’d lusted after this week.

Greg got back to work, but in the back of his mind, he thought about his wife’s request. She was so incredibly honest. He felt guilty for acting like a cad, while she, thousands of miles away, informed him of an innocent trip to the theater.

Nevertheless, between his wife’s beauty and the big-boobed secretary, he had a boner and a bad case of blue balls. He slipped out of his office to the restroom. He closed his eyes and grabbed his hard penis and stroked as he stood over the toilet. Pre-cum lubing his shaft, he was lucky he was alone because the wet sound of masturbatory strokes echoed off the bathroom tile.

He climaxed with ease and said, "Oh God, thank you for blessing me with a wife who loves me. I’m such a lucky bastard. Give me wisdom and correct my ways. Punish me if you must, I trust your judgement. Thank you lord. Amen.”

As he zipped up he suddenly felt warm and lost his balance, tipping against the bathroom stall before recovering.

He returned to his desk and shook off this odd fainting spell. He vowed to drink more water and get more sleep.

A few hours later, he was home when he received a text from his wife telling him she was back. He asked how the show went. She told him it was great but “That’s the last time I do that!”

“Meaning?” asked Greg.

Kim typed, “Matt got a little carried away. After the show, he invited me to a nice little pub and he tried to kiss me!” She added a little smiley emoji.

Greg stared at what she’d written. This Matt guy tried to kiss his wife? The irony! Ain’t Karma a bitch, he chuckled to himself, looking up toward cosmic justice and thought, “Hey Lord, that was a good one. I deserved that.”

He called Kim, and they had a good laugh over it and she said goodnight.

Tuesday started out uneventfully. Kim called from her hotel room to let Greg know she was turning in early. That evening one of Greg’s friends called and asked if he wanted to check out a strip club.

“On a Tuesday?” Greg laughed, but his friend said he knew a dancer but didn’t want to go alone.

Greg’s wife didn’t mind if he looked at naked women. She understood Greg and appreciated his masculinity, but it was an unspoken rule that he behave appropriately.

That night both men had a good time, tucking bills into G-strings and brushing pussy lips with the backs of their fingers. Greg got a lap-dance and as she moved her body against him he could smell the talcum powder and baby oil and, combined with the alcohol, his mind went back to his old ways.

He offered her a little bit more if she’d play with his penis. She took out a condom and unrolled it onto him, then stroked his pecker until his testicles tightened and semen filled the latex reservoir. Immediately Greg felt guilty - very, very guilty. He closed his eyes and looked at the ceiling.

“Sorry Lord, forgive me. I’ll take whatever punishment you deem appropriate. Amen.” He went to stand up and got that woozy feeling again and felt feverish for a few minutes.

The next day he felt joy when Kim texted him and they entered a video chat. She looked even more beautiful than the day before. She explained she only needed to work a half day and was able to take in the British Museum and Hyde Park. Greg couldn’t wait for her to fly home.

“I just wanted to tell you how grateful I am you let me come,” Kim said.

He thought about his indiscretion the previous evening. “You deserve it, honey. I know how hard you work.”

“I’m still very lucky.”

“I’m the lucky one.”

They both looked at each other. The long distance and iffy internet connection made the video jump and skip, but they beamed at one another. Greg felt more in love than ever. Distance really does makes the heart grow fonder, he thought.

Greg broke the silence. “So, what are you going to do tomorrow, your last full day?”

Kim smiled with excitement. “Well, I have more training to run, but I should get out early. I’m going to do another walking tour tomorrow. I've been invited out next evening for a farewell party, to celebrate my last night here. Is that okay with you?”

Greg gulped, his heart speeding up a notch. “Will Matt be there?”

Kim nodded, “Yeah... but don’t you worry. It’s a big group.”

Greg remained silent, contemplating the situation.

Kim twisted in her chair, laughing. “Are you a little worried?”

“Of course not,” lied Greg.

“You don’t trust me?” Kim teased, “A pretty girl in London going to the pub with horny co-workers?”

“Oh I cannot wait for you to get back!” Greg laughed, but he felt a hot ball of lead form in the pit of his stomach. Of course, I should let her go, he thought, this is my punishment. Take it like a man.

“Okay, okay. Have fun. Don’t drink too much.”

“I love you honey!” Kim said, blowing a kiss to the screen. “You’re the best.”

“You’re the best,” Greg answered.

“I like that you’re jealous. It means you still love me,” and Kim winked at him, blowing another kiss.

----

Greg checked Kim’s online status the next day after lunch. She wasn’t on, but considering she said she’d be out this evening, this was expected. After 10 p.m. London time he sent her a text.

Greg: Hope all okay? Miss our chats.

Kim: Hi honey! Miss you! All good.

Greg: Are you at a pub? Back yet?

Kim: No. Having fun. DRUNK.

This was slightly unnerving.

Greg: Okay, pace yourself. Love you!

Kim: Luv you too! Xoxo

Greg sat at his desk, trying to concentrate, but couldn’t. The more he thought about his wife getting drunk in London with Matt there, even if it was in a group, the more it drove him nuts. He packed his things and left early, leaving by a side door so his boss wouldn’t notice.

Two hours later he was home, his mind inventing taudry scenarios about starring his drunk wife, some much worse than Matt trying to kiss her. He sent a series of progressively more panicky texts:

Greg: You there?

Greg: You’re worrying me, all okay?

Greg: Please call me!

She didn’t answer her phone, and he repeatedly called the hotel room directly. Every time it went to guest voice mail he felt sick. Finally around 1 a.m. London time a voice answered.

“Hello?” Said a strange male voice. Thankfully Greg heard others in the background.

“I’m looking for Kim S_, this is her husband. Who is this?” Greg seethed.

“Oh hello Greg! Kim told us all about you. Hold a moment, she's..erm..in the ladies room.” The guy sounded drunk.

The strange man dropped the phone Greg heard him call out "Kim, your fantastic husband you told us about is on the phone". Greg clearly heard somebody say “oh shit” to general laughter.

Greg steamed as he listened to a bunch of men chatter and bicker like loud drunks until Kim finally picked up the phone.

“Hello Greg,” Kim said.

Greg felt relief at hearing her sweet voice, but barked, “Who’s in the room with you?”

“A few guys from work, even a girl!" Kim laughed, "Wait.." and she yelled to the others, "Is Rachel here? I thought Rachel was here."

"She stayed on the train for home," a voice answered.

This wasn't good, Greg realized.

"Are you drunk?"

"A little," Kim yelled at somebody in the room, "Please don't touch that! NO! That's my UNDERWEAR you idiot!" and everybody laughed.

"Kim!" Greg yelled, "Kim, listen to me."

Kim attempted to shush the room. "Shut up I can't hear!"

“Kim, listen to me.”

“What?”

“They need to go now. I want you to tell them to go. I’m staying on the line.”

“Okay GUYS time to GO. My husband is laying down the law!” Kim laughed like it was the funniest thing she ever said, and Greg heard the others laugh with her. There were complaints but Greg insisted on holding the line until they all bid their goodbyes.

“Are you okay?” Greg asked, relieved.

“I’m feeling gooood,” Kim whispered, “Greg. I wish you were here. I’m so horny.”

Oh thank God they left, Greg thought.

“I wish you were here too," he said.

Kim giggled and she whispered softly, as if telling a nice juicy piece of gossip, “I wish you were here to lick my pussy. I need my pussy licked."

Damn, she's really drunk, Greg thought. Out of curiosity he asked, "Why are you so horny? Was Matt there?"

"Of course," Kim said.

"Was he in the hotel room just now?"

"Yes," Kim said.

Greg heard himself say, “If you were single, would you find Matt attractive?”

“Oh God yes,” Kim said too quickly, “I’m so glad you called. You’re the best husband.”

“I’m not really.”

“You may have saved me from doing something really stupid,” Kim whispered.

“We all do stupid things,” Greg said.

“Not you. You’re the best…”

Greg felt awful as he remembered the lap-dancer's hand-job.

The conversation turned goofy, each telling the other how much they love the other, how much they wanted each other, laughing like a new couple. Greg couldn’t bear to hang up on his beautiful wife.

Finally Kim said, “I’m tired. Good night. Love you,” and Greg heard the phone drop but it didn’t hang up.

“Kim?” Greg said but there was no response. He could hear movement. She must have put the phone receiver down without properly hanging up.

“I love you too,” Greg said into the phone, knowing she probably couldn’t hear it.

He felt relieved. Disaster averted. And then he wondered, ever so briefly, if maybe his buddy wanted to go back to the strip club.

No, that would be stupid, he said to himself. But another part of him said, you might not get another chance, and after all, you won’t see her for another 24 hours at least

He hadn’t decided long, but he made the decision. In fact it wasn’t even a second before he mentally calculated he needed another $300, no $400, from the ATM, because maybe he could get a BJ.

All these thoughts happened in a fraction of a second, just as Greg was about to hang up, when he heard the door knock over the phone, clear as a bell.

He froze, listening to Kim say “Who is it?” then more movement and she said “Matt!”

“Sorry… forgot my jacket,” Matt said, barely audible.

"I can't believe you're here," Kim said. Greg felt sick as he heard them shuffle around. Matt said something inaudible again, and Kim said, “Maybe you can crash here instead?”

Greg yelled into his phone, “Get him out of there! Kim, make him leave!”

Greg struggled to listen as they made small talk for a few minutes, half of it unintelligible.

“Lights off?” Matt called out.

“If you want,” Kim said.

Like a zombie, Greg stayed on the phone, listening to nothing for a few minutes. He hoped they fell asleep. He held the phone to his ear and got a drink of water and sat on the couch. This phone bill will be ridiculous. He wondered if she had two beds in the room. He really hoped there were two beds.

He almost zoned out himself when he heard her say, “Stop”…more laughter and “I’m married it’s wrong.” She didn't sound upset. She sounded like she wanted it but couldn't.

“No! Kim! Stop!” screamed Greg into the phone.

Greg tried to calm down, but fact were facts. His wife was thousands of miles away, drunk, telling some guy she’d invited to spend the night “Stop” and “I’m married; it’s wrong.” He listened in frustration as he heard both talk softly, unintelligibly softly. There was laughter. She wasn’t kicking him out.

Greg sat back, looking at the ceiling. This couldn’t be happening. Not with Kim. Maybe they were just talking. Maybe Matt listened and was now behaving himself.

And then he heard the moan - high pitched and drawn out. He knew that sound.

Kim, his fantastic beautiful wife, his queen who he adored and worshiped, she was on her way to orgasm. Matt was making her orgasm.

He screamed into the receiver “Stop it, stop it, this is Greg, please stop it. Kim I love you! Stop it now! Please!”

As if to mock him Kim didn’t stop it, but grew louder. “Yes,” she said, “Right there, oh God yes, touch me there!”

Greg felt sick as she moaned louder, her voice cresting and strangely he thought she sounds beautiful when she cums.

Again there were whispers which turned to soft laughter. He heard Matt, that son of a bitch, say “Just play with it, don’t be scared,” and they laughed together.

“Kimberley wants a lolly!” she said, in a bad British accent. “Oh fuck you’re huge!”

Play with it? Lolly? Huge? No no no! He listened carefully as one of his worst nightmares unfolded. There was more giggling and strange sounds, maybe stroking, maybe slurping.

“I’ll feel like a pole dancer with this thing,” Kim giggled, “Want a lap-dance?”

“Sit on my pole?” Matt joked.

Fuck no! It couldn’t be a coincidence; lap-dance, strippers...

I’m sorry God, thought Greg. I didn’t mean it. I wasn’t going to do it. But inside he knew the truth. And worse, he was now lying. Inside he knew he had to face up to it.

Greg begged, “Please God. I know I’ve not always been the greatest guy. I’ll do anything. Just make it better. I’ll be a better person. I won’t get mad at her. We’ll work through it. I’ll accept your punishment. Just make it better. Please!!”

Greg heard more slurping, and as an afterthought, Greg said “Amen” because that’s what a prayer needs to be official.

The warmth he felt in the lap dance booth and the bathroom stall came over him, but harder, way harder. His heart raced as heat radiated through his limbs. He detected an odd scent, like ozone after a lightning storm.

His penis, previously shriveled in fear and horror, began to grow. His balls descended from his groin. Something flipped in his brain and his testicles began producing seminal fluid. Blood filled the spongy cavities of his penis, making it iron hard and throbbing with each beat of his heart.

Feeling feverish, he unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it. He still felt warm, oh so warm, so he unbuckled his pants and kicked them off so he was now naked and vulnerable, his penis hard and aroused.

And then two incredible things happened, miracles to rival any of the modern saints. He felt a great pressure, like the hand of God reaching down through the heavens, pushing him down and back against the couch. He could not move, but sat naked (excepting his socks) and paralyzed.

The audio from the phone became clearer, too clear, and Greg felt his eyes glaze over as if going into a dream and everything became dark and cloudy but he could still hear his wife laughing and talking to Matt, more loudly still. “Have you ever licked American pussy?” she asked.

Gradually the fog clouding his vision lifted.

He was in a hotel room, sitting on a chair in the corner, not three feet from the bed, still unable to move. The telephone’s receiver on the nightstand wasn’t on straight. There was only one bed in the room, and on it lay a naked man, his legs slightly spread, and his penis uncut and alien. It was of a decent size, with a bulbous knob, visible as the foreskin was pulled down. Kim sat on top of the naked man holding the shaft of his hard cock, planting tender, slurping kisses on this bulbous knob. For her part, Kim was in the 69 position, her hairy snatch planted firmly on Matt’s face.

Greg smelled sex, the aroma of lust and love comingled in the small British hotel room.

Kim gyrated her hips, grinding her pussy deep into Matt’s open mouth. The slick juices of her sex and Matt’s saliva coated her pink labia as Matt’s tongue probed her vaginal opening, his nose firmly planted in the center of her ass. Greg watched as Matt struggled to breathe as he aggressively tongued Kim’s precious slit.

And then, muffled, he heard Matt say, “I’m going to cum!” and he thrust his hips upward.

Kim, stroking his cock, took him in her mouth, forcing it deep into her throat. Greg knew she was a champion cocksucker. She stroked and bobbed her head as the wrinkled skin on Matt’s gonads contracted and squirted his warm white seed up his cock and into Kim’s mouth. Slippery semen spilled from her lips and over her hands as she double-fisted his cock. When Matt finished, she rose up, swallowing, then examined her hands. She slid off his face, a streak of wetness trailing down his chin and turned, putting one of her cum covered fingers between his lips.

He sucked, and Kim grinned, patting his cheek. “Good boy,” she said.

“Thank you,” whispered Matt.

“You’re not done yet, babe,” Kim said, crawling on his face, this time facing the wall. “Do you like American pussy? I love your big British dick. Lick my pussy.”

“I love your married American pussy,” Matt said in his clipped foreign accent.

Greg wanted to chuckle, but he still couldn’t move. He enjoyed watching this. These two, his cheating wife and this Fleet Street panty snatcher, they were funny, and what he saw was so very, very arousing.

Matt resumed his duty, licking and slurping. For a few minutes Kim squatted over Matt’s face as he masterfully performed cunnilingus on his married woman. Greg could see her thick labia rub against Matt’s lips and tongue, flapping and folding as he manipulated them with his mouth. As she squatted her legs seem to split farther than he’d ever noticed, the space between her slit wide open as Matt’s tongue darted around her pussy like a man possessed.

“Oh God, yes, do it, lick my pussy. Lick it like a little bitch!”

Woah! Greg couldn’t believe what he was hearing, his wife Kim acting the part of a foul mouthed slut. She continued to verbally abuse Matt, telling him to “suck it, go on, suck it”, and “get your tongue in there. Fuck me with your tongue!” She grabbed his hair and pulled him into her groin, moaning. “Yeah that’s it…. I’m coming… I’m coming… I’m gonna come in your mouth…. I’m gonna come… Ahhhhaaaahhhhhh!!!!”

If Greg could move, his jaw would have hung open in awe, because Kim squirted. She wet herself, like an animal, a jet of whatever the fuck liquid it was that women ejaculate. Like a high pressure washer, her liquid sprayed on Matt’s face, his mouth, and nose.

When she finished, she swung off Matt's face, patting him again and kissed his forehead. Matt’s cock was hard. Very, very hard.

“Kim,” Matt whispered, and Kim sat on the bed, pulling her legs up as if she feared him. She clearly realized what she did might infuriate some men.

“What?” Kim answered in a high pitched voice.

“Give me a kiss,” Matt said and he reached out and gently took her hand and moved it back to his hard cock. Kim leaned over, kissing the lips she’d squirted on a minute before.

“I want to fuck you, Kim. I need to fuck you now,” Matt said.

“But you don’t have protection.”

“I don’t need protection where I’m going to fuck you.”

Kim’s eyes went wide. Greg watched as her lips curled into a smile.

“But I don’t have lubrication. I need lubrication.”

Matt’s eyes searched the room, and Greg and Matt’s eyes met. Matt smiled.

Greg’s heart was in his throat. He felt like he’d was caught, a pervert spying on two adults having intimate relations of the most private sort. To Greg’s horror, Kim looked over and she also smiled!

What the fuck? Can they see me? Greg wanted to defend himself, he wanted to tell them it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know why he was here, but he couldn’t say anything.

“Oh!” Kim said, and she scooted over the bed toward Greg, directly in front of him and bent down, reaching between his legs.

His own cock was hard and stiff, pointing toward his wife and her lover. Even now he couldn’t believe how aroused he was. Still, he was paralyzed, unable to touch it.

“I wonder why this is here,” Kim wondered, “I didn’t think I packed it.”

What?

Kim bent down and grabbed his cock with two hands, one around his shaft, the other making a twisting motion on his mushroom head. Pre-cum leaked from the tip.

“Oh yeah, here we go,” Kim said, and she pumped his shaft a few times and continued to fiddle with the tip of his penis. He felt a rush of pleasure overwhelm his senses, and his cock vibrated in a way he hadn’t felt since his first clumsy attempts at masturbation. It felt satisfying and insanely pleasurable as his hot cum spurted into Kim’s hands. Inside his head Greg screamed as the orgasm wracked him like a heavyweight boxer’s one-two punch.

“Yes,” Kim said, transfixed, as if she was pumping oil from a bottle, “This should do it.”

When Greg finally calmed down, he saw his wife on the bed smearing his sperm over Matt’s hard cock before bending over to take him. She smeared more into her puckered anus.

Matt maneuvered himself behind her, gently sliding a finger into her tight hole – preparing her.

“Please be gentle,” Kim murmured.

Matt snickered, “It’s time for your American ass to get a proper British welcome,” and he put his large penile tip on her anus. She moaned as he pushed gently, prodding his hard cock into her, the skin of her ass stretching to accommodate the foreign invader.

Greg watched in amazement as the fat cock edged deeper into Kim’s beautiful ass, the skin of her rectum hugging his hard staff. Greg knew what it was like to butt fuck her. He understood the pleasure Matt felt, especially because he was a little thicker.

“This lube is perfect,” Matt moaned.

Kim wailed in a way that was clearly painful, yet she wanted it. “Uhhh…ohhhhhh….uhhhhhh…please be gentle…uhhhhh.”

“This is for 1776, bitch.”

“Huh, what?” Kim moaned, confused. Greg laughed inside.

Matt rammed his cock deep into her, up to the hilt. “Yeaahhhhhhh,” he growled, “thank your husband for lend-leasing your tight little American ass to me. He’s a true patriot.”

Kim stammered, “My husband… oh… fuck… I’m sorry honey… I couldn’t help myself…Yeah… ughh…do it…fuck my American ass…Fuck it with your big British… ughhh it hurts so good.”

Greg knew she believed him to be thousands of miles away, oblivious as she explored her erotic desires with Matt, but appreciated her kind word. I’m sorry too, he thought. Well maybe not!

He realized he enjoyed the helpless feeling, squirming as his wife surrendered herself in the most intimate, sexual way possible. He felt a strange pride, watching Matt desire his wife so strongly.

Kim reached between her legs as Matt ass-fucked her. Her fingertips spread her thatch of pubic hair as she searched out the pleasurable points on her vulva, especially her clit. “Uhhh… yess….fuck…..oh….I’m going to cum…”

“Me too,” Matt said, and he suddenly thrust hard into her and pulled her tight, not letting her go as his balls pulsed once again. He pulled out, wet fluids coating his softening erection. Kim fell to her side and she probed her ass with her fingers. Thick white fluid spilled from her tight wrinkled hole.

They both lay side by side. And then to Greg’s amazement they kissed - simple passionate kissing. It was a strange feeling, watching his wife share such a passionate and romantic moment with somebody else. This went on for a few minutes before Matt finally broke contact. “I need to wash off,” he insisted.

Greg heard water running and assumed he was soaping off his cock. After a minute he returned. Amazingly, Matt’s cock was hard again.

“You need to be fucked proper,” Matt said.

“I don’t know…” Kim said.

Greg found himself rooting for Matt. Do it, he wanted to scream. Do it! Fuck her! Like an itch that must be scratched he wanted to witness it. He wanted to see Kim’s vaginal lips spread, her butterfly stretch and take Matt’s big hard bare penis, his sperm shooting into his wife’s vaginal tubes.

Matt strolled over to the chair where Greg sat. He wanted lube.

Greg watched, shocked, as Matt helped himself. Inside he gasped as the male hands gripped his shaft and cock head. As before, the pleasure was immense and another orgasm ripped through Greg’s groin, his balls contracting painfully as they spurted more warm slippery cum into Matt’s palm, but it wasn’t quite as much as before.

“I think the bottle’s almost empty,” Matt said, as he smeared Greg’s cum all over his cock.

Kim laid on her stomach, watching and catching her breath. As she saw Matt “lube” up his dick she said, “Please don’t cum in me.”

“I promise,” Matt said. He crawled onto the bed on his knees and Kim lay on her back. It was the most basic position, Kim spreading her legs, opening her vagina to accept Matt’s advances. In Greg’s eyes she never seemed as delicate as she seemed now, spreading her labia, her pubic hair matted with cum from her ass fucking.

With his big hard dick, Matt smeared a mix of his pre-cum and Greg’s “lube” over Kim’s pubis, placing his head between her pink lips.

This is it, thought Greg, this is what I’ve wanted, what I’ve always wanted.

“Are you ready?” Matt asked.

“Yes,” Kim whimpered. “Do it! Fuck me.”

Matt pressed gently, his head stretching Kim’s pink vaginal opening.

“Ohhh, you’re so big. You’re bigger than my husband.”

“Yeah?” said Matt.

“Your cock,” she stammered, gasping, “Ah… it’s… it’s fantastic.”

Matt leaned over her and started rocking into her.

“OH GOD!” cried Kim, “I’ve never felt it so… so deep in me.”

Matt thrust aggressively, pleasuring her wet sopping pussy. Her lips hugged his penis and she moaned with every stroke.

Greg realized with agony that he wanted to stroke his own penis.

Suddenly everything went foggy again. Greg begged, No! I want to see! I want to see!

He could hear Kim moan, the sound of pleasure as manhood penetrated her fertile vagina. Matt’s throbbing dick slid closer to her womb than Greg ever had, in a bid to implant in her uterus one of God’s miraculous gifts – life. The moans became less clear, the sound tinny, and the fog lifted. Greg found himself sitting naked on his couch, thousands of miles from the hotel room he so desperately wanted to return to.

His legs and stomach were iced with semi-dried semen. He picked up the phone and put his ear to the speaker, listening to the sounds of Kim being railed by the surly Brit co-worker who’d seduced her so successfully. His wife cried out in pleasure, “Fuck me Matt, fuck me. Oh God, yes, your cock is so big!”

“That’s it,” Greg said into the phone, “Fuck him. I want you to fuck him. DO IT!”

Greg heard the receiver clicking around and Kim’s voice came through, “Oh God, Greg is that you?”

“I love you baby. I’m so hard listening to you fuck him.”

“What?” Kim said, shocked.

“I’m loving this babe. I heard everything. Don’t stop.”

Greg heard her whisper, “It’s my husband. He wants us to keep going.”

There was a brief silence.

“Are you sure?” Kim whispered into the phone.

“Let him cum in you.”

“Okay,” Kim said softly, "I love you."

Greg didn’t know it, but he masturbated to the sound of his wife’s impregnation. Millions of Matt’s sperm swam through Kim’s cervix, as well as millions from Greg’s “lube”. They battled each other until one found its home.

Greg was called away on business that evening and didn’t return for two weeks. He didn’t eye other women. When he did reclaim Kim, they made love wildly and repeatedly. But only two weeks after, she realized she was late and feeling nervous she took the test – Positive. Two weeks was too quick for those tests to work. Deep down she knew it was Matt's baby.

Greg celebrated her body as her breasts grew, her nipples enlarged, her genitalia became brown and swollen, and her vaginal opening loosened in preparation for childbirth. He fucked her almost to the very last possible moment, her ever-swelling belly marking her beauty month by month.

A month after Faith was born, they opened the envelope together. They thought it was a miracle: Faith was Greg’s. They were right.

To be truthful the old, wandering-eyed Greg didn’t quite disappear, but together Greg and Kim explored more perverted carnal pleasures. Those are stories for other days.

And if Greg ever bothered to really think about it, which he didn’t, most of his prayers, those most honest and righteous, had been answered, and justice mercifully served.

 

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