You’ve got problems when you love your husband, and he’s a wonderful lover. But the problem is that sometimes you just need to be screwed.

That's where I’m now, fucking Dave's boss because he fucks me. I’m not due home until midnight. I told Dave that I was working late. If Marcel can fuck me one more time, I’m going to be late.

I feel well used by now. My tits hurt, my cunt is sore, and he whipped my ass for the first time. Dave’s never seen that before. No one had whipped my ass before.

Now I need one more cunt fuck. I want another load, just for Dave. Last month, I let Dave eat my cunt after being with Marcel, and he got a cream pie. He didn't know it; at least he didn't act like he knew. I want to bring him another, but a more obvious one. God, will he ask about it? If he does, will I answer him? I've been stepping it up since I first fucked Marcel. I think I’m enjoying it. Should I let Dave know that he’s making love to me, but Marcel is fucking me?

I turned my attention back to Marcel and his cock. I had it in my mouth, with my tongue swirling around the tip. He was getting hard, but I needed harder. I got a glove and put a finger in his ass. That always worked. His hands were mauling my tits, and he finally put his stiff cock back in me. It took ten minutes before I could get the last cum he had, right where I wanted it. Inside me, but dribbling out. I left without cleaning up to get it to him, still fresh.

I got into bed with Dave and instructed him to eat me out. When he got the first taste, he hesitated a second but continued until I came, and that forced some more of Marcel’s cum out. I leaned down and kissed him, and I tasted Marcel's cum on him. My tongue was in his mouth, looking for more. If I wanted Dave to taste it, I had to do it too.

It was a few days later that Dave was making love to me, and I was just melting. It was so wonderful. “I love it when you make love to me like this. It makes me love you more every time. Dave, I adore you.” I smiled at him and then gave him a soft kiss.

I could see something cross his face, and I asked, "What's wrong? I loved it tonight.” He shook his head and kissed me back. I asked a few more times when he blurted out, “I just wish I could see what your other lovers give you that I don’t.”

He’d never asked that directly, “You’re my only lover, Dave. You know that our love is so special; I don’t allow anyone else to make love to me.” I wasn’t exactly lying; Marcel was fucking me, not making love.

I knew I was getting closer to letting him know about Marcel. Could I let him watch? Would Marcel let that happen if I wanted Dave to watch? Me, getting my fucking needs satisfied. For me, they are completely different things—fucking and making love.

It was several weeks later when I needed to be fucked again, that I alluded to Dave watching. Would Marcel even consider letting Dave, his employee, watch us? I thought I was subtle about it, but I guess there isn’t a subtle way to ask that. He understood what I was asking immediately. He kicked it back to me by asking, “Is that something you want? Do you want Dave to be aware of what we’re doing? Watch us fuck?” He paused before continuing, “What about work? He works for me; can he handle it? I guess a parallel question is, can I handle it?"

His tongue was in my slit on my clitoris. My brain quit working until I finally came. When I'd recovered, he asked, “What do you think, Susan? You're closer to the problem. If Dave and I have problems, I think I could get him hired somewhere else; for you, it’s different.”

The thought of Dave seeing me get fucked, fucked by Marcel, made me tingle. The thought of Dave hearing me scream with Marcel's cock inside made me feel weird. I wasn’t sure if it was a good weird or a bad weird. I ended up saying, “Let’s think about it.”

I spent the next two hours being fucked until I couldn’t think.

When I got home, Dave was in bed, but he insisted on eating my cunt. It seemed he was looking for the taste of Marcel’s cum in me.

That made me shiver, just thinking that Dave wanted to taste cum, in my cunt. If I let him watch, I could give him a fresh, warm cream pie right out of the oven. He’d love it, or maybe not. Which would it be?

I went down on Dave's cock, sucking it, and played with his cock and his balls until he came into my mouth. I moved up and gave him an open-mouthed kiss, sharing the cum I was holding. This was so erotic, and we’d never done this before. I’d never done it with anyone. It was fun, and I think Dave enjoyed it.

As we lay there in bed, I was picturing Marcel fucking me with Dave watching open-mouthed in shock. The image in my head kept changing until it focused on me on the bed, with my legs spread wide, kissing Marcel. His cock was touching my cunt, and Dave was suddenly naked with his cock in his hand. God, it was smaller than in real life, and he was stroking it, his eyes wide open. When Marcel’s cock was pushing into my cunt, I saw Dave explode with masses of cum all over me. There was more cum than I’d ever seen, but it completely missed Marcel.

I finally went to sleep, feeling Dave cum on me. When I woke, we were both naked, but there was no cum. The dream had implanted itself in my mind.

What did I want? I need to talk to Marcel.

He was out of town, and I waited until Monday to set up a talk. I made it clear that it was to talk, not fuck. We met at Marcel’s place, and I explained my question. Could I risk my marriage by letting him watch? So far, I hadn’t made him face the fact that I was fucking other men for something he couldn’t give me. Not really. He knew, but he could pretend to himself that he didn’t.

Of course, he wouldn’t give me an answer. He wouldn’t give me the answer I wanted. I wanted my lover and my fucker. May they never meet. Or was that true? Could I have both? Could Dave watch me?

How could I introduce Dave to my fucker? How could I make him watch?

I was trying to think of a way to entice Dave to watch Marcel fuck me. Could I entice him to be blindfolded and hear it? Without him knowing, it was Marcel. Maybe let him know. I was meeting with Marcel.

I had set up a meeting at a bar for a talk. I let him know from the beginning that I was still wondering about letting Dave know who I was fucking. I wanted a place where my arousal wouldn’t interfere with rational thinking. Right, like that could happen.

We sat down at a table, and I started telling him about my thoughts. I could feel my tension start as soon as I talked about it.

I was back in the vision of me under Marcel, both of us naked. When his cock started approaching my cunt, Dave was there, naked. His cock touched my cunt, pushing its way inside, and a sense of bliss covered me because I knew how it would feel as it moved inside me. I was savoring it when I saw David’s cock explode with Dave screaming, “No, don't, don’t let him do it.”

I was back in the bar with Marcel, confused. Last time, he came explosively; there was cum everywhere.

Was my mind telling me something, or was it just my fear?

I told Marcel that I was ready. I wanted Dave to see me getting fucked. I wanted him to watch it happen—the whole thing.

The next Friday, Dave and I went out to dinner at the Rivera Club. During dessert, I told him, ”Dave, I’ve told you that you’re the only man who makes love to me. And it’s true—no one else makes love to me. I do have a man that fucks me. What he does, what he does to me is fuck me, hard, dirty fucking.”

Dave tried to say something, but I just overrode him and said, ”Dave, let me finish. Um, I don’t have a lover; he's a fucker. I’ve decided I want you to see it—to watch me being fucked. It’s going to happen tonight; we’re going to his house, and you’re going to watch it happen. It’s at Marcel’s house. He’s my fucker. When I come home late, I’ve been with him.

Dave sat there, silent. I paid our bill, and we went to our car before he said anything. “It’s Marcel that you’ve been with? My boss?”

Is he taking it better than I’d expected, or worse? I couldn’t tell. I’m feeling shivers down my spine.

“Yes, we’re going to his house now, so you can watch and see it. I’ve never lied to you; you’re my lover, and I’m wild about loving you. But I need to be fucked instead sometimes.”

I got in behind the wheel, and he got in the passenger seat. I drove to Marcel’s house with Dave, looking dazed. When he got out of the car, I suddenly saw his cock.

He’s got an erection. His cock is standing at attention. Jeez, it looks hard. Is he dazed, or is he aroused by what’s going to happen? Does he want to watch Marcel fuck me?

I was wondering which it was, but I suddenly realized it was both. He wanted to see it. But he didn’t at the same time.

I opened the front door and let us in without ringing the bell or knocking. That seemed to freak him out a bit, realizing I was comfortable just walking into his boss’s house. “I want you naked too while you’re watching. I want to see your cock responding to me being fucked. You get to sit in a chair to watch, but you’ll be the first to strip. If you don't, I’m going to make you hear it from outside the room."

He looked dazed and stayed silent. He finally nodded yes. Marcel was in the living room, and he got up and kissed me, with Dave watching silently. When we finished kissing, he led us into his bedroom. The chair was there, with some rope coiled beside it.

Dave looked at the rope, and Marcel said, “That’s here to tie you; if you can’t promise, you’ll just watch. Susan says that if you say you can just watch, we can trust you. If you don’t think you can, we can tie you down.”

Dave closed his eyes before answering, "Marcel.” He looked at me and said, “Susan, god, Susan, I … “ He paused before continuing, “I want to be forced to watch. I want to be tied so I can’t interfere. Please, Susan, it’s going to be hard enough to see it; if I can’t interfere, it’s going to be even harder if I can, and don’t.” I saw his eyes tear, and he was trying to control himself.

It seemed to be harder than I thought. He still has an erection, so it’s arousing him; he wants to watch, but he doesn’t at the same time. What is he feeling right now? He knows that Marcel’s cock is going to end inside my pussy, shit my cunt. I can’t imagine, or maybe I can. Shame, helplessness, humiliation, and weakness are just some of the emotions I can imagine he's feeling. But looking at his cock, I also see the arousal he’s feeling, too. No wonder he looks dazed.

“Dave, I told you to strip first. Then I’ll tie you down to the chair. Start.”

He slowly obeyed; he took off his shirt, his shoes, and finally his trousers and then his boxers. His cock was as large as I’d ever seen it, but I also saw him trembling.

He sat in the chair, and I started by tying his legs to the chair legs, then his chest, capturing his arms to the back of the chair. The last thing was tying his waist to the back and seat. I'd immobilized him. Some of his tension had leaked out when he couldn’t interfere. He had to watch and let it happen. From now on, he wasn’t letting it happen.

I stepped up to Marcel, saying, “I want you to fuck me again. Please, Marcel, I need to be fucked again.” Marcel stepped closer and unbuttoned one button, then took his hands on either side of my blouse, ripped it open, and tore it off. We'd planned the entire thing to make it more dramatic for Dave. He had a very sharp knife and pressed it between my bra and tits and cut it so it was hanging on my shoulders.

I could hear Dave sob as my tits showed to them. He cut my belt that held my trousers and forced them to the floor. I was standing there with my pants at my ankles, just my panties in front of Dave and Marcel. Marcel stood there admiring the scene before telling Dave, "Can you beg me? Beg me to either fuck Susan or stop. Do you want me to fuck her in front of you? Or do you want to go home with Susan unfucked?

"You wanted to be tied, so you could pretend you couldn't stop it. Well, you can. You need to beg me—yes, fuck her, Marcel; or beg me to stop and let you both go home."

I can't move; this wasn't planned. He was adlibing this. God, what is Dave going to do? Will he want Marcel to continue? Can Dave ask Marcel to fuck his wife? Can he admit to himself that he wants to see it happen in front of him when he could stop it? If Dave wants it to stop, will he actually stop it?

"I want to fuck her; you can either stop it here, Dave, or let me do it. Beg me, yes or no. Either give me permission to fuck her or stop it."

I was reaching for his belt when he tossed me on the bed, took his shirt off, and then his trousers with me sprawled on the bed, naked. When he was naked, he pulled me so my hips were on the edge of the bed, forced my legs apart, and started feasting on me. He was rough, just what I needed after the buildup. I'd thought about what he was going to do to me during dinner and the drive over. I was making noises, mostly noises with words like “Yes.” “Harder.” “More” intermixed with screams.

I finally screamed, “Marcel, Marcel, I’m coming. Yes.”

I twisted myself around and put my mouth on Marcel’s cock, sucking on it. I occasionally took a breath, asking him to cum in my mouth. When he did, I let some escape, and he licked it off me. We both needed a rest, but that didn’t last long. I glanced at Dave, and I could see that he’d cum, too. He’d gotten some on his chest, on his legs, and on the floor.

We kept up for a couple of hours with rest intervals. Until I was sore and we both were exhausted.

I untied Dave and put the remnants of my clothes on while he got dressed. When we finally left, Marcel kissed me again at the door, and I limped to the car with Dave driving.

When we pulled up at our house, Dave looked at me. “God, Susan, that was amazing. I think I understand what you mean about being fucked."