It had been at least ten years since I last shared a long hidden, burning fantasy of mine with my wife, Lynda. My dream of seeing her on another man’s big cock, stretching her to the limit, obsessed me; but the idea repulsed and offended her. “Why would you want me to do that? That’s just sick! I don’t want anyone except you, Ed. That’s just a way for you to be free to fuck other women; isn’t it! I would never do that!”

“No, I don’t want any other woman,” I protested in all sincerity. Did she think I wanted to leave her and our three teens? “I just thought it really unfair that you never experienced sex with anyone but me. And while I can’t explain why, the thought of you spreading your legs to fuck another man just really turns me on. I’m sorry.”

I thought I’d primed her for the request, routinely fucking her with a big black dildo and even managing to double penetrate her pussy with it. She amazed me by taking its nearly two-inch girth along with my cock. She went wild the first time I managed to squeeze my dick in next to it. Hottest fucks of all time. I now wondered why we got away from that routine. The tight stretch always thrilled her and the feel of a cock sliding against mine inside her pussy, even if it was just plastic, pushed me over the edge in a matter of seconds every time. Yet the prospect of repeating it with the ultimate sex toy was most definitely not an option. Her swift rebuke convinced me; I’d never touch on that kink again; ever!

Then, just recently, she came home from a shopping spree wearing a silver anklet. I told her I loved it, wondering if she had the slightest clue what it meant. She wore it constantly. “It’s so feminine,” she told me, “I feel sexy wearing it.” Soon after, I recognized a new confidence within her and asked what brought that on. She explained that so many strangers, guys, seemed to be striking up conversations over nothing just to talk with her. I smiled and I asked if any of them complimented her anklet. “How did you know that?” she asked in amazement.

“You really have no idea; do you?” I replied with a smile. “It means, I’m married but free to fuck anyone I want, and if worn on the right ankle (as she always wore hers), it means I’m looking to get fucked right now.”

She looked at me incredulously. “You’re making that up.”

I just chuckled and told her, “Just keep wearing it. It’s harmless fun and you’ll see I’m telling you the truth. Google it.” She did keep wearing it, and she loved the attention it brought her. It just made her feel good to know that at age 39, guys still found her appealing.

In the midst of all this, we booked a romantic, 7-day cruise for our 20th anniversary, our first ever get-away without kids. As we packed, I asked if she was wearing her anklet on the trip, adding that cruises are a place to, “let your hair down, just like in Vegas. What happens on the cruise ship stays on the cruise ship.”

“Do you want me to wear it?” she asked.

I took the plunge, inferring my old fantasy was still burning inside me and hoping she wouldn’t ‘go off on me’. “Yes, of course I do. And I would love it if you chose some of your skimpy outfits to wear with it; and if you forget your panties and bra, that would be fine too.”

She didn’t answer, but what went into the suitcase told a story. She packed what looked like a conservative, white, one-piece swim suit that we both knew became almost transparent when wet, a couple of little sun dresses that she had never worn because they were way short, some tube tops that I hadn’t seen her wear in years, a pair of skimpy shorts that let the cheeks of her ass peek out like two little smiley faces, and a couple of very short skirts and low-cut blouses to show off her ample cleavage. Was she really going to let go and do it; I wondered, or would she just tease me by teasing other men?

She dressed the part on the day of our cruise check-in by wearing one of the little sun dresses that just covered her bare ass when she stood up straight. A slight breeze, quick twirl or any bend from the hip clearly revealed a pantiles bottom. The little cotton dress, her strapped sandals and jewelry, including the anklet, comprised her entire ensemble. We rode in the back seat as our two girls drove us to the port. The younger, a 17-year-old, commented, “Mom, you’d never let me go out looking like that!”

“That’s a fact,” my demure wife responded, “but when you’re my age, you can dress any way you want and I promise not to criticize.”

I was boned up for the next few hours as I watched her flaunt herself and flirt with other men. When we reached our suite, we fucked like animals, both of us turned on by her bold, uncharacteristic, provocative public behavior. After we caught our breath, I told her that if she actually wanted to fuck someone else, it would be all right with me. Duh, as if she wasn’t perceptive enough to know that. And since she was on the pill, I suggested she could even do it bareback. “You know how I love eating your creampied pussy,” I told her, watching to see how she reacted to the idea of me eating another man’s cum from her freshly fucked pussy.

If anything, I think she liked the idea. When she admitted she might actually give herself to another man, we began scheming about how to pick someone and get him back to the room with us. I suggested she bump into someone she wanted to fuck, as if she didn’t see where she was going, then apologize, saying something like, “My feet just have a mind of their own, so as to direct his attention to your feet. I’ll be very meek and just tag along, looking at the floor”, I told her, “If he’s game, he’ll take it from there.”

It only took seconds for her to dress for dinner. She simply pulled the little sundress over her head and said, “Let’s go.” I was shocked just moments later when she intentionally walked right into a very large black man standing with his back toward the elevator as we exited. He was probably in his mid-30’s, well dressed in garb matching that of the three men he was chatting with. The well-proportioned man towered over my six-foot stature, almost compelling me to cower in the background as my wife said, “I’m so sorry, Sir, but my feet just seem to have a mind of their own,” motioning toward her anklet as she spoke.

“That’s quite all right, little lady. No problem,” he responded as he turned back to continue his conversation.

We walked away with my heart pounding and my ‘jack-in-the-box’ cock springing to full-on boner again. “Oh fuck, honey, you are one hot little bitch. What a slut you are!” I complimented her, “I had no idea you wanted that. It’s just got to happen now! You’ve got me so fuckin excited. Want to just skip dinner and go to the piano bar to see who’s there?”

She declined, saying we were going to need some nourishment for what she had in mind. We gobbled down our food and went back to the room for a quick, urgent fuck. We didn’t even undress. I pulled the couch away from the wall, bent her over the back with her head down and feet just off the floor. I flipped up her little dress revealing a juicy, freshly fucked cunt. I lowered my pants and slammed it in balls deep with one thrust. Thirty seconds later I was pumping in yet another load. I pulled out and dropped to my knees, licking my own cum from her while envisioning it being another man’s. When she was clean enough to walk without dripping, I stood and pulled up my pants, tucking in what was becoming a perpetual hard-on. “It’s time for the piano bar my little slut,” I told her as I helped her to her feet.

Of all people, the big black man she bumped into earlier was alone, sitting at the bar. “There’s the guy you were interested in sweetheart. Go sit next to him if you want,” I encouraged.

“No, I can’t do that. I already made a fool of myself in front of him and I can’t do that. He’ll think I’m stalking him. Besides, he’s not interested or he would have talked to me earlier,” she argued.

I gave her little choice. I grabbed her by the waist and walked her up to the bar, ushering her right onto the stool next to the big black man. She took the seat, telling me thanks, and then said, “Oh look honey, it’s the guy I bumped into earlier. Be a sweetheart and buy him a drink.”

He introduced himself as Mark and was very cordial. I bought him a double Scotch, neat, as he requested, and ordered a straight tequila for Lynda and a Heineken for myself, telling the bar tender to keep them coming. I then excused myself to the restroom. I took my time and before returning and found a secluded spot to watch what was happening.

Lynda seldom drank, and the tequila was doing a wonderful job of killing her inhibitions. As they spoke, she swiveled toward the man and slowly parted her legs. I knew that lucky guy was looking right at her freshly fucked, wet, swollen cunt. His hand came to rest on her inner thigh, just above the knee. He noticed me as I approached, but made no attempt to move his hand. I glanced at Lynda’s lap before taking my seat and confirmed my suspicion. Her smoothly shaved mound and glistening pussy were clearly visible below the hem of her hiked up little dress.

I listened closely to their conversation while feigning total ambivalence, sitting with my back to them as I watched the pianist. They talked and laughed for another thirty minutes or so, as if I weren’t even there. I obviously wasn’t supposed to hear him say in a hushed voice, “Watch this,” then, in a much louder voice, “That’s a very pretty anklet. Did your husband give it to you?”

“Yes, he did,” she lied, confirming I was OK with the hot wife life.

“Does he like to watch, join in, or just let you go off with other men?” he asked.

“We’re new to this,” Lynda honestly confessed as she slammed down another shot. “In fact, we’ve never done this before. Ed’s the only man I’ve ever been with. But it’s been his fantasy to share me for years, and I’ve finally given in.”

“Well, Cucky Boy,” he said, addressing me directly for the first time, “what do you have in mind?”

I didn’t know what to say as I watched him lean toward my wife, obviously sliding his hand further up her thigh. “It’s up to you and Lynda,” I finally choked out, assuming Lynda would tell him what we wanted, but inadvertently making it his call. I averted my eyes and returned to my drink, embarrassed that I had just completely subjugated myself to this stud.

Lynda leaned forward, obscuring the view between their bodies as best she could and placed her head on his shoulder. I couldn’t see what she was doing, but her rhythmic shoulder movements told me she was working the man’s cock. I could hear whispers and soft moans from my wife. I concentrated to hear their words but managed only to pick up one here and there, enough to know they were discussing his size and her concern about taking it. I also picked up on another sound, a familiar squishing noise. He was finger fucking my wife, working his fingers in my wife’s cum loaded pussy, right there on the barstool next to me!

He leaned toward me, speaking over Lynda’s shoulder, “Cucky boy, I’m telling you for a fact, this little slut has never ever been so hot to fuck. If I wanted, she’d fuck me right there on the dance floor. She told me you want to watch, so don’t blame her for it, but that’s not going to happen. I’ll be needing her full attention. Can’t be having a horny little cucky boy interfering with her first real fuck. I’m sure you understand. This is going to be like fucking a virgin, for both of us. I know because I’ve got two fingers all the way inside her right now and she’s fucking tight. She’s going to have her first ever fuck by a real man with a full-grown cock.”

He stood, sliding his fingers out of my wife and helping her to her feet. He took a moment to pull her dress down, covering her exposed ass before everyone in the bar noticed. “Maybe you can join us next time, but for now, you are going to stay here while I take your wife to your bed and fuck her like a whore. Do NOT interrupt us! You understand?”

I didn’t expect this. I didn’t want to scare off her conquest, but I obviously overplayed the sub role and this big alpha bull had totally taken over. I could object and put a stop to this, but Lynda was going willingly, and while I wanted to be a part of it, I wasn’t going to selfishly deny her the first fuck of her life with another man. Besides, I wanted this for myself. Just knowing she was going to spread her legs and let another man slide his big cock into her was thrilling, even if I had to let it happen without me.

“You understand, Cuck?” he asked again when I didn’t answer. I just nodded.

“Don’t worry, I like to film my first fucks with a new woman. I’ll leave a copy on your wife’s phone for you. What’s her favorite position?” he asked at the last second.

I immediately blurted, “Doggie,” then realized he only asked to humiliate me. He just smiled. Lynda gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and staggered to the door, pulling the black stud along.

For the next nearly two hours, I sat at the bar in surreal, anxious anticipation. I was jealous, knowing my wife was fucking someone else; excited, knowing my wife was fucking someone else; and horny as fuck, knowing my wife was fucking someone else; someone with a huge black cock! I couldn’t resist rubbing myself through my pants as discretely as possible, sliding my hard cock back and forth in its puddle of precum. I surprised myself when, for the first time since my early teens, I was uncontrollably releasing a flood of cum in my pants. I hoped no one would notice as I squeezed my cock with one hand and grabbed the bar to steady myself with the other. I closed my eyes and let the biggest cum load of my life soak my pants.

As it was happening, I envisioned being with them. I wanted to be licking her clit while he hammered her doggie style. I wanted to guide his bulbous head to her opening, then watching as his thick shaft pushed it home. I vividly imagined that big black cock thrusting in and out, covered in white froth as Lynda creamed. And finally, while I unloaded in my pants, thought of his ass muscles clinching rhythmically as he fully impaled my wife and filled her with his seed. Would she be able to feel me, I wondered, when I finally get my first sloppy second’s fuck? My only consolation was reminding myself that at least I’d get to eat and fuck her yet tonight after he was done with her.

Seconds seemed like minutes as I waited. Should I have insisted on going with them? She was safe enough, I thought, but would she think I abandoned her? No, that’s just stupid. She decided to go with him and leave me at the bar. Oh fuck, what have I done! My wife of 20 years was with a big black stud, fucking her brains out with my encouragement. Maybe I should go check on her, I thought, then recalled his warning. These thoughts played over and over in my mind.

I finally decided I had to go check on them. Just as I stood to get the bar tender’s attention, Mark tapped me on the shoulder. “Get me another drink,” he demanded. “I’m exhausted. She’s a really good fuck for such an old slut. I usually tap younger ones, like your daughters. You’re a lucky man to have such a hot wife.”

“Yea, I know,” I agreed.

He gulped down the scotch in one hit and told me, “You can go back to your room now.” He gave me a big smile, then leaned in and whispered, “Did you cum in your pants, Cucky Boy? Just as well, cause you’re not getting anything from my bitch tonight. She’s totally fucked out. She’s never really been properly fucked before, and she isn’t going to want anything from you, especially not your pathetic little dick. I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, he left.

I left my beer and hurriedly paid the bartender for the night’s drinks so I could check on my wife. I tried to hide my wet crotch with my hands and walked quickly to our suite. I slipped my key card in the door and walked into a well-lighted room. In fact, every light in the suite was on, and there was Lynda’s phone, propped up on the dresser and aimed at the door to catch my reaction as I discovered my wife. She lay spread eagled on the bed, covered in cum. She was barely conscious but managed a weak, “Oh, you beautiful man! Thank you, thank you, thank you! That was the best ever! I’ve never been so happy!”

I was thrilled that it went so well, but now wanted her for myself. Her cunt was gaping open, just like I envisioned, its elasticity fucked right out of it. I couldn’t resist. I dove between her legs and licked up the cum dripping from her well used hole. I lifted my head to admire the beautiful sight, and was shocked to see her ass hole had obviously been used for the first time ever. I went back to pleasuring her with my tongue, licking from ass hole to clit.

“Easy, Baby,” she begged. “I’m so sore. I had no idea fucking could be like that. I couldn’t stop. It hurt so good. I can’t believe we waited so long to do this,” she told me as she grabbed my head to hold me still between her legs. “That’s enough, honey, please leave me alone. I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” she said before closing her eyes and dozing off. She would have no knowledge of me dumping yet another load over her glazed body.

I left the “do not disturb” sign on the door, covered my beautiful slut, turned off the lights and checked her phone. I spent the rest of the night stroking and rubbing my cock raw as I watched the video of my hot wife servicing that big black bull, and I do mean big. I couldn’t help but notice the large bulge in his pants at the bar, but seeing him naked with that massive cock was amazing. It was nearly the size of my wife’s forearm; and somehow, she took that whole thing in her cunt. He fucked my wife on the balcony as she bent forward and held on to the railing, he fucked her over the couch like I had done earlier in the evening, he did her doggie, missionary, sideways, all-ways. He fucked her mouth and jizzed her face and breasts. When I found the clip showing his bulbous cock head stretching my wife’s virgin ass open, I ran it over and over again. It was incredible. She had too many orgasms to count, and I was amazed that this stud could just keep going; and cuming. When I finally went to bed, Mark’s last words to me kept playing in my mind, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

But that’s another story.