Talk him into it?
wife with husband and another man?
- Thread starter nwiowaman69
- Start date
Talk him into it?
It's a shame that people often get paired up with others that don't share the same views. Makes us unique I suppose, but unfortunate at the same time.
I wish my wife shared your point of view, I would make it a reality for her.
lets_experiment
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Nov 18, 2004
- Posts
- 882
My wife has told me about a few different fantasies she has and yes having sex with other men has been one of them. She has to be in the right mood to talk about her fantasies, usually a little bit of alcohol and some arousing talk and foreplay will get her to open up about them.
I'm afraid that my wife is one of those that claims not to have any fantasies. I've broached the subject often over the years, even sharing some of mine in the hopes that it will at least provide a little reciprocal sharing, but not as yet. I've even tried prodding for info in the middle of sex, hoping that arousal might free her tongue, but she'll just clam up, and go silent.
As far as I can figure, she's either trying to protect my feelings or is hugely embarrassed about them.
As far as I can figure, she's either trying to protect my feelings or is hugely embarrassed about them.
missietinker
Virgin
- Joined
- Apr 28, 2012
- Posts
- 2
My husband is the one that says that he has no fantasies, I approached the subject a few times but no, I said it didn't have to be MMF there could be another women in to spice it up but he back away from that too
roomfor1more
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Dec 3, 2010
- Posts
- 310
I do have written several articles and stories on Literotica about having threesomes.
As I understand your question your wife has started playing with your ass and you have began thinking about having a two male threesome. After reading that part I am not sure if you are operating under a fallacy that most, if not all, two male threesomes are bi or if understand the vast majority of two male threesomes are straight. The reason most two male threesomes are straight is due to very hight risk of syphilis and HIV / AIDS that male-on-male contact brings. Plus the males that tend to look for a threesome tend to be males who are either cheating on their partner or do not have time for a relationship.
Moving on, a question that you ask regards getting your wife to open up about her fantasies. From my experience I find many women do not have fantasies like men and if they do they are buried deep. This means you have to show patience and build trust with her to open up and accept if she say she does not have a fantasy then accept it.
The main thing you need to remember there is a difference between suggesting the idea during foreplay and suggesting the idea during the cold reality of the day. A misconception a lot of people hold about fantasies comes from Freud. Freud held that a fantasy was an unconcious wish or desire that was unfulfilled. The purpose of a dream was to fulfill the fantasy. Since Freud much work has been done researching his work and the vasty majority, including his work into dreams, has been disproven.
Unfortunately there is no way to tell by her response if you have found a fantasy of hers. It is important to remember there is a big difference between fantasy during foreplay and what is said outside of the bedroom. If you are looking to have a mfm threesome then you need to begin the discussion outside of the bedroom and be prepared for a full spectrum of responses, from a willingness to have a threesome to her becoming very upset at the suggestion of the idea. Unless you are prepared for a full range of reactions and you are able to deal with any response then you are better off keeping the idea as a fantasy. Even if you bring up the idea and it is not meant with full resistance from her it can be years before it comes to fruition and even if you talk about it there is no guarantee that it will happen.
My advice, take it slow and think about it. Also, take time to research the idea and take time to understand all of the risks involved before trying to make this idea happen. Rushing into having a threesome without understanding all of the risks can be devastating to your health, safety, and relationship.
In any event I wish you the best.
As I understand your question your wife has started playing with your ass and you have began thinking about having a two male threesome. After reading that part I am not sure if you are operating under a fallacy that most, if not all, two male threesomes are bi or if understand the vast majority of two male threesomes are straight. The reason most two male threesomes are straight is due to very hight risk of syphilis and HIV / AIDS that male-on-male contact brings. Plus the males that tend to look for a threesome tend to be males who are either cheating on their partner or do not have time for a relationship.
Moving on, a question that you ask regards getting your wife to open up about her fantasies. From my experience I find many women do not have fantasies like men and if they do they are buried deep. This means you have to show patience and build trust with her to open up and accept if she say she does not have a fantasy then accept it.
The main thing you need to remember there is a difference between suggesting the idea during foreplay and suggesting the idea during the cold reality of the day. A misconception a lot of people hold about fantasies comes from Freud. Freud held that a fantasy was an unconcious wish or desire that was unfulfilled. The purpose of a dream was to fulfill the fantasy. Since Freud much work has been done researching his work and the vasty majority, including his work into dreams, has been disproven.
Unfortunately there is no way to tell by her response if you have found a fantasy of hers. It is important to remember there is a big difference between fantasy during foreplay and what is said outside of the bedroom. If you are looking to have a mfm threesome then you need to begin the discussion outside of the bedroom and be prepared for a full spectrum of responses, from a willingness to have a threesome to her becoming very upset at the suggestion of the idea. Unless you are prepared for a full range of reactions and you are able to deal with any response then you are better off keeping the idea as a fantasy. Even if you bring up the idea and it is not meant with full resistance from her it can be years before it comes to fruition and even if you talk about it there is no guarantee that it will happen.
My advice, take it slow and think about it. Also, take time to research the idea and take time to understand all of the risks involved before trying to make this idea happen. Rushing into having a threesome without understanding all of the risks can be devastating to your health, safety, and relationship.
In any event I wish you the best.
Sometimes it's difficult; My wife as mentioned before says she doesn't have fantasies, and by comparison, I'm the type of guy that would try anything twice, just in case the first time didn't work out. I'm more than willing to try anything that she suggests, but the problem is she doesn't suggest anything, nor does she ever want to talk about it.
It kinda leaves you feeling like some horny deviant.
It kinda leaves you feeling like some horny deviant.
lots of varied emotions
Trying something you never have brings out hidden feelings and emotions. Its all new. One thing I never thought about was seeing a hard cock and balls for the first time other then my own. Pictures maybe but never in real life. Then the realization that the cock will be pushing its way into the place where I like to lick leaving a trail of pre cum stretching it open forcing its way to the depths of her pussy and ending with overflowing her with cum.
A lot to think about.
Trying something you never have brings out hidden feelings and emotions. Its all new. One thing I never thought about was seeing a hard cock and balls for the first time other then my own. Pictures maybe but never in real life. Then the realization that the cock will be pushing its way into the place where I like to lick leaving a trail of pre cum stretching it open forcing its way to the depths of her pussy and ending with overflowing her with cum.
A lot to think about.
MilkFountain
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Mar 13, 2005
- Posts
- 1,481
My early, mid-campaign experiance
True. all true. I repeat: It took several years for both my wife and me to go through all the stages of opening up—secret fantasy, broaching the subject in the light of day and during hot moments in bed, talking about invited dinner guests, earlier experiences, my setting up sexy situations with a lone male, even 2 or 3 dinner guests (dressing her for the man or men, often disagreeing about “appropriateness” of a skirt and especially a blouse); leaving her alone with a guest on a staged emergency or "unexpected" phonecall that took me away; watching the two of them through the window; phoning to listen to her ragged breathing while he was in her . . . to being present, watching, fondling, kissing everywhere, even wetting and placing him in her—and finally, now (when it suits her) she a willing accomplice in little adventures.
I have no interest in being with another woman now, as I did occasionally a few short years ago (and, I'm sure my wife, like yours, would not want to see me with another woman. My wife fulfills my fantasies and bent side.
I add here an early adventure we had that might shed some light on the feelings that the man—in this case, I—might have . . . The night that my wife made good my request to return from the guest room with palpable proof that she had actually been sexual with our sleep-over dinner guest was a milestone.
After dinner, after drinks, and once those drinks had their expected effect on the atmosphere, my wife danced close with our lone male dinner guest, a friend who had been in politely masked tongue-dangling lust for my wife for more than a year. He had been to dinner several times before. This night it snowed. It snowed all through dinner and drinks, and was still snowing as I watched them dance. When he got up to go and apologized for the late hour, we both insisted her stay the night. The road that would take him home would by now be, if not impassable, certainly dangerous.
When he was settled in bed in our guest room adjacent to our bedroom, and my wife and I were tangled in a hot embrace in our bed, we talked about how she felt about our guest. I visited my fantasy of her sucking someone off (nothing more). Her protests were mild, sleepy, slurred by the wine and finally she gave in, impatient with my importuning, more a defiance than compliance. I watched her pad across our bedroom carpet dressed only in her see-through nighty and matching panties, already damp. She paused at the door, looked back at me for a moment, thoughtful, then disappeared into the dark. Then:
I had waited alone in the dark, cooling bed much longer than I had expected to for her to have come back to me. I had supposed 15 or 20 minutes. That had passed. I hadn't checked a watch, but my internal clock said she should be returning by now. I peered through the dark at the doorway. I shivered, although only a short time before, it had been hot with my wife close beside me under the down comforter.
Somewhere in my mind I was aroused. But although I stroked myself, astonishingly, I didn't get hard. I wondered what she—what they!—were doing at that exact moment. Where were his hands? Where was her belly pressed? Where was his cock now! Where was her mouth, was it full, was it kissing or sucking—wet with her saliva and his, or was her mouth open in the familiar "O" in her silent scream when penetrated so she loses all track of the world beyod her womb and breasts? Did she think of me, just once? What did she think of me? Was his cock prettier or bigger than mine. Was it circumcised or not? Would she be reluctant to leave him? Perhaps that was why she was taking so long. Would she want to return to me?
I waited . . . Finally, I threw back the bedclothes and as silently as I could retraced my wife's recent footsteps across the carpet to the bedroom door. I crouched, and on all fours carefully crept into the hallway. I had only a meter or so to crawl from our bedroom door to the guest room doorway. through the dark I saw that the door to the guest bedroom was closed. I'd asked her to leave it ajar, so I could listen.
Suddenly, I felt very alone in the dark, an intruder. The cooler air in the hallway made me shiver.
Holding my breath, I listened. Nothing. An enormous curiosity drew me forward. I crept foward until my face was pressed to the cold wood of the door into our guest room. I thought: in fact, my wife is there. Our dinner guest is there. He had been teased the entire evening by the promising tops of my wife's breasts rising soft in the candlelight; by the sight of her swaying bottom going away to fetch more food for him from the kitchen; by her soft length pressed to him as they danced—by her breasts unavoidably warm on his chest, the ceaseless brush of her thighs against his, perhaps by the aroma rising to fill his nose; and she certainly had felt the heat of his erect cock, insistent against her belly as he held her to him.
No light came from under the door. The single bed in the guest room was narrow. In the dark the only place my wife could now be was there, sharing a space meant for one.
I pressed my ear to the door: Silence . . . I waited. . . Still no sound. Out of the intimate dark, my ear now pressed tight to the wooden door, holding my breath to better hear, to glean from the dark some clue, came only empty silence. Nor a rustle. That silence came to overwhelm me with the reality of their intimacy more than any sound might have.
I waited, listened once more, then withdrew, creeping backwards until I was back in our bedroom. Returning to the center of our big bed, I drew the covers up over my head so that I could preserve the warmth of my trapped breath, curled into a fetal ball and waited. Five minutes had passed since my visit to listen at their door. Surely she'd been gone half an hour. I waited until my shivering from my naked foray into the hallway had subsided, plumped some pillows at the headboard, sat back against them, knees to my chest, and drew the covers to my chin. I resigned myself to waiting. Another eternity passed, perhaps 20 or 30 minutes. I began to worry. Stonily peering at the black void in the doorway, I began shivering again.
When finally she did emerge from the pitch black of the hallway into the near dark of our bedroom, she paused in the doorway. Naked, her skin appeared silvery in the pale light. Ghostlike, she appeared as a voluptuous marble statue. Her arms were relaxed, hanging straight down, a hand dangling beside each hip. The faint light from outside caught the rises of her thighs, belly, breasts and face. My wife's shorty nightgown trailed from one hand and her panties were bunched in the other. Her abundant hair was in such disarray that I could see it splayed behind her, either side down to her bottom. I threw back the covers for her to enter the bed beside me.
But, dropping panties and nighty where she stood, she then came silently across the deep carpet and, astonishingly, instead of coming around the bed to get beneath the covers I held for her, walked to the center of the footboard directly below me. Catlike, she raised one knee above the wooden barrier, then the other, and crawled up to me on knees and hands. She came up between my legs and in a moment straddled me, the ceaselessly moving curves of her body swaying dark above me. Not my every-day compliant wife, she arrived above me dominant and purposeful.
I tried to nuzzle her breasts, but with one hand on my chin she stopped me, lifted my face and sought my mouth with hers. I expected a kiss. But no . . . Our lips met, but instead of softness, the muscled probe of her tongue squirreled passed my lips and teeth. Teeth clashing, she forcibly opened my mouth wide . . .
A thick liquid dropped on my tongue. It was warmer than my mouth and thicker than her saliva. Before realization of what it was dawned on me, it had slid heavily over my tongue, until I blocked it from gliding into my throat with the back of my tongue. Then it hit me. A gust of my own breath rising through the back way into my nose filled my nostrils with the unmistakable tang of fresh semen.
The erotic realization overwhelmed me. The intimacy of sharing my wife's sexual experience so excited me that I passionately hugged her over and over, forearms hard against her ribs. Cradling her bottom with one hand and forearm and her back with the other in a nearly bone cracking embrace, I thrust my cock up into her and drew her down until her pelvis hurt mine. With my tongue and mouth I sought to find in the depths of her mouth every trace of our guest's passion so recently surrendered in my wife's implacable mouth (his semen, notably warmer than her saliva, could not have been more than seconds old as she let it pour from her mouth into mine, like a mother bird feeding her young, my mouth and throat upturned, blind in the night beneath her generous mouth, her breasts hot on my throat and chest).
To oblige me, and to my further astonishment and seemingly unbearable delight, she brought up from back in her throat more of his semen. It was a thick gout, the kind of glob that stays intact. (The next day, in a flash realization I knew it must have been that second gush all men ejaculate, the big one.
What she had poured into my mouth at first I later realized was the result of his decreasing spasms after that big one that came from the entire length of his spine in a strangled scream through the constricted throat of his penis, aimed at splitting her. . . She said she felt wonderful, completely female as he held her . . . She said his legs had turned to iron (there was unmistakable admiration in her whispered voice). She said his breathing stopped as he released into her. She said he held onto her, both hands around her head, like he was afraid of dying. She said she nearly lost consciousness. He held her head and for a long time she waited for his climax to subside. But long past when she thought she could hold her breath, he stilll spasmed into her. Finally, she forcibly withdrew her mouth, pulling her head back from the death grip of his hands. Still gasping for air, she said she returned her lips and tongue to catch as much of his semen that continued to come out of him as she could.
The next morning, at my insistent pressuring her for details, she told me that she had done as I had suggested . . . quietly entered his room, stood over him close by the bed, smoothly and tantalizingly slipped the shorty nighty over her head and, eyes closed, head aloft, luxuriated in the moment bye stretching her arms as high as she could, all the while aware of his eyes, inches from where her now naked thighs joined, and then bowed low to push her panties down, her face and breasts close to his upturned face and her hair falling around his head and shoulders. She then slipped quickly, shivering, into bed beside him.
She said she saw he had trouble breathing, as if he were being smothered, and guessed he was overcome with shock and excitement at seeing her actually with him. She said that they kissed for a long time, that he was a vey good kisser and that his cock was so hard up against her belly that she could feel it pulse as they kissed. He tried over and over to enter her, Once he got above her and roughly raised her legs to dangle over the crook in his elbows, pulled her hips to him so that her cunt was against his balls and he had pushed his cock down until the head pressed between her lips, but before he could push it home, she forcibly squirmed back, rose to hug him to her and kissed him.
Soon forgetting his cock, he kissed her back. Later, he flipped her over, face down, and yanked her hips up so that her bottom dropped onto his lap. He pushed her forward and she naturally fell into a kneeling position, hands and knees, ass in the air and the head of his cock already sliding up and down to find her entrance (she admitted she was so wet that she was dribbling down her inner thighs).
But she had turned, dove, found his cock with her mouth, and then allowed him to push her back and kneel over her. She said he rested his entire weight on both outstretched hands above her head and, she thinks remembering, on his toes pushing back against the footboard, as he pumped hard. She said she thinks it was because he was so turned on that he was almost brutal with his need in her. He tried, and sometimes succeeded in pushing past a terrible resistance she felt, and into her throat (she was sure it was all of him, and was surely in her thoat, she said, because her throat suddenly would feel so full and she gagged repeatedly. She told me that sometimes his balls rested on her chin and her face hurt because her nose was flattened hard by his belly. She told me it hurt sometimes when he would pause in her up to the hilt) She said his climax shook his legs. As he held the back of her head to him with one hand, some of his semen had gone up her nose. She said that at unexpected times for days after she would be overwhelmed by a sudden rush of his aroma flooding er nose and mouth.
True. all true. I repeat: It took several years for both my wife and me to go through all the stages of opening up—secret fantasy, broaching the subject in the light of day and during hot moments in bed, talking about invited dinner guests, earlier experiences, my setting up sexy situations with a lone male, even 2 or 3 dinner guests (dressing her for the man or men, often disagreeing about “appropriateness” of a skirt and especially a blouse); leaving her alone with a guest on a staged emergency or "unexpected" phonecall that took me away; watching the two of them through the window; phoning to listen to her ragged breathing while he was in her . . . to being present, watching, fondling, kissing everywhere, even wetting and placing him in her—and finally, now (when it suits her) she a willing accomplice in little adventures.
I have no interest in being with another woman now, as I did occasionally a few short years ago (and, I'm sure my wife, like yours, would not want to see me with another woman. My wife fulfills my fantasies and bent side.
I add here an early adventure we had that might shed some light on the feelings that the man—in this case, I—might have . . . The night that my wife made good my request to return from the guest room with palpable proof that she had actually been sexual with our sleep-over dinner guest was a milestone.
After dinner, after drinks, and once those drinks had their expected effect on the atmosphere, my wife danced close with our lone male dinner guest, a friend who had been in politely masked tongue-dangling lust for my wife for more than a year. He had been to dinner several times before. This night it snowed. It snowed all through dinner and drinks, and was still snowing as I watched them dance. When he got up to go and apologized for the late hour, we both insisted her stay the night. The road that would take him home would by now be, if not impassable, certainly dangerous.
When he was settled in bed in our guest room adjacent to our bedroom, and my wife and I were tangled in a hot embrace in our bed, we talked about how she felt about our guest. I visited my fantasy of her sucking someone off (nothing more). Her protests were mild, sleepy, slurred by the wine and finally she gave in, impatient with my importuning, more a defiance than compliance. I watched her pad across our bedroom carpet dressed only in her see-through nighty and matching panties, already damp. She paused at the door, looked back at me for a moment, thoughtful, then disappeared into the dark. Then:
I had waited alone in the dark, cooling bed much longer than I had expected to for her to have come back to me. I had supposed 15 or 20 minutes. That had passed. I hadn't checked a watch, but my internal clock said she should be returning by now. I peered through the dark at the doorway. I shivered, although only a short time before, it had been hot with my wife close beside me under the down comforter.
Somewhere in my mind I was aroused. But although I stroked myself, astonishingly, I didn't get hard. I wondered what she—what they!—were doing at that exact moment. Where were his hands? Where was her belly pressed? Where was his cock now! Where was her mouth, was it full, was it kissing or sucking—wet with her saliva and his, or was her mouth open in the familiar "O" in her silent scream when penetrated so she loses all track of the world beyod her womb and breasts? Did she think of me, just once? What did she think of me? Was his cock prettier or bigger than mine. Was it circumcised or not? Would she be reluctant to leave him? Perhaps that was why she was taking so long. Would she want to return to me?
I waited . . . Finally, I threw back the bedclothes and as silently as I could retraced my wife's recent footsteps across the carpet to the bedroom door. I crouched, and on all fours carefully crept into the hallway. I had only a meter or so to crawl from our bedroom door to the guest room doorway. through the dark I saw that the door to the guest bedroom was closed. I'd asked her to leave it ajar, so I could listen.
Suddenly, I felt very alone in the dark, an intruder. The cooler air in the hallway made me shiver.
Holding my breath, I listened. Nothing. An enormous curiosity drew me forward. I crept foward until my face was pressed to the cold wood of the door into our guest room. I thought: in fact, my wife is there. Our dinner guest is there. He had been teased the entire evening by the promising tops of my wife's breasts rising soft in the candlelight; by the sight of her swaying bottom going away to fetch more food for him from the kitchen; by her soft length pressed to him as they danced—by her breasts unavoidably warm on his chest, the ceaseless brush of her thighs against his, perhaps by the aroma rising to fill his nose; and she certainly had felt the heat of his erect cock, insistent against her belly as he held her to him.
No light came from under the door. The single bed in the guest room was narrow. In the dark the only place my wife could now be was there, sharing a space meant for one.
I pressed my ear to the door: Silence . . . I waited. . . Still no sound. Out of the intimate dark, my ear now pressed tight to the wooden door, holding my breath to better hear, to glean from the dark some clue, came only empty silence. Nor a rustle. That silence came to overwhelm me with the reality of their intimacy more than any sound might have.
I waited, listened once more, then withdrew, creeping backwards until I was back in our bedroom. Returning to the center of our big bed, I drew the covers up over my head so that I could preserve the warmth of my trapped breath, curled into a fetal ball and waited. Five minutes had passed since my visit to listen at their door. Surely she'd been gone half an hour. I waited until my shivering from my naked foray into the hallway had subsided, plumped some pillows at the headboard, sat back against them, knees to my chest, and drew the covers to my chin. I resigned myself to waiting. Another eternity passed, perhaps 20 or 30 minutes. I began to worry. Stonily peering at the black void in the doorway, I began shivering again.
When finally she did emerge from the pitch black of the hallway into the near dark of our bedroom, she paused in the doorway. Naked, her skin appeared silvery in the pale light. Ghostlike, she appeared as a voluptuous marble statue. Her arms were relaxed, hanging straight down, a hand dangling beside each hip. The faint light from outside caught the rises of her thighs, belly, breasts and face. My wife's shorty nightgown trailed from one hand and her panties were bunched in the other. Her abundant hair was in such disarray that I could see it splayed behind her, either side down to her bottom. I threw back the covers for her to enter the bed beside me.
But, dropping panties and nighty where she stood, she then came silently across the deep carpet and, astonishingly, instead of coming around the bed to get beneath the covers I held for her, walked to the center of the footboard directly below me. Catlike, she raised one knee above the wooden barrier, then the other, and crawled up to me on knees and hands. She came up between my legs and in a moment straddled me, the ceaselessly moving curves of her body swaying dark above me. Not my every-day compliant wife, she arrived above me dominant and purposeful.
I tried to nuzzle her breasts, but with one hand on my chin she stopped me, lifted my face and sought my mouth with hers. I expected a kiss. But no . . . Our lips met, but instead of softness, the muscled probe of her tongue squirreled passed my lips and teeth. Teeth clashing, she forcibly opened my mouth wide . . .
A thick liquid dropped on my tongue. It was warmer than my mouth and thicker than her saliva. Before realization of what it was dawned on me, it had slid heavily over my tongue, until I blocked it from gliding into my throat with the back of my tongue. Then it hit me. A gust of my own breath rising through the back way into my nose filled my nostrils with the unmistakable tang of fresh semen.
The erotic realization overwhelmed me. The intimacy of sharing my wife's sexual experience so excited me that I passionately hugged her over and over, forearms hard against her ribs. Cradling her bottom with one hand and forearm and her back with the other in a nearly bone cracking embrace, I thrust my cock up into her and drew her down until her pelvis hurt mine. With my tongue and mouth I sought to find in the depths of her mouth every trace of our guest's passion so recently surrendered in my wife's implacable mouth (his semen, notably warmer than her saliva, could not have been more than seconds old as she let it pour from her mouth into mine, like a mother bird feeding her young, my mouth and throat upturned, blind in the night beneath her generous mouth, her breasts hot on my throat and chest).
To oblige me, and to my further astonishment and seemingly unbearable delight, she brought up from back in her throat more of his semen. It was a thick gout, the kind of glob that stays intact. (The next day, in a flash realization I knew it must have been that second gush all men ejaculate, the big one.
What she had poured into my mouth at first I later realized was the result of his decreasing spasms after that big one that came from the entire length of his spine in a strangled scream through the constricted throat of his penis, aimed at splitting her. . . She said she felt wonderful, completely female as he held her . . . She said his legs had turned to iron (there was unmistakable admiration in her whispered voice). She said his breathing stopped as he released into her. She said he held onto her, both hands around her head, like he was afraid of dying. She said she nearly lost consciousness. He held her head and for a long time she waited for his climax to subside. But long past when she thought she could hold her breath, he stilll spasmed into her. Finally, she forcibly withdrew her mouth, pulling her head back from the death grip of his hands. Still gasping for air, she said she returned her lips and tongue to catch as much of his semen that continued to come out of him as she could.
The next morning, at my insistent pressuring her for details, she told me that she had done as I had suggested . . . quietly entered his room, stood over him close by the bed, smoothly and tantalizingly slipped the shorty nighty over her head and, eyes closed, head aloft, luxuriated in the moment bye stretching her arms as high as she could, all the while aware of his eyes, inches from where her now naked thighs joined, and then bowed low to push her panties down, her face and breasts close to his upturned face and her hair falling around his head and shoulders. She then slipped quickly, shivering, into bed beside him.
She said she saw he had trouble breathing, as if he were being smothered, and guessed he was overcome with shock and excitement at seeing her actually with him. She said that they kissed for a long time, that he was a vey good kisser and that his cock was so hard up against her belly that she could feel it pulse as they kissed. He tried over and over to enter her, Once he got above her and roughly raised her legs to dangle over the crook in his elbows, pulled her hips to him so that her cunt was against his balls and he had pushed his cock down until the head pressed between her lips, but before he could push it home, she forcibly squirmed back, rose to hug him to her and kissed him.
Soon forgetting his cock, he kissed her back. Later, he flipped her over, face down, and yanked her hips up so that her bottom dropped onto his lap. He pushed her forward and she naturally fell into a kneeling position, hands and knees, ass in the air and the head of his cock already sliding up and down to find her entrance (she admitted she was so wet that she was dribbling down her inner thighs).
But she had turned, dove, found his cock with her mouth, and then allowed him to push her back and kneel over her. She said he rested his entire weight on both outstretched hands above her head and, she thinks remembering, on his toes pushing back against the footboard, as he pumped hard. She said she thinks it was because he was so turned on that he was almost brutal with his need in her. He tried, and sometimes succeeded in pushing past a terrible resistance she felt, and into her throat (she was sure it was all of him, and was surely in her thoat, she said, because her throat suddenly would feel so full and she gagged repeatedly. She told me that sometimes his balls rested on her chin and her face hurt because her nose was flattened hard by his belly. She told me it hurt sometimes when he would pause in her up to the hilt) She said his climax shook his legs. As he held the back of her head to him with one hand, some of his semen had gone up her nose. She said that at unexpected times for days after she would be overwhelmed by a sudden rush of his aroma flooding er nose and mouth.
Last edited:
moredildoplease
Experienced
- Joined
- May 5, 2012
- Posts
- 54
I have this fantasy. I would love for hubby and I to find another man to join us. I imagine them both touching me and teasing me slowly, hands all over me, getting me so wet with anticipation. I'd love for my hubby and him to take turns licking my pussy so I cum all over both their faces. Then of course they would both slide their cocks in me, one in my ass and one in my pussy. MMMMMM!
However, only a fantasy because hubby is not into sharing at all. Complete bummer.
jasonmason
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Sep 2, 2004
- Posts
- 97,008
MMMMMMM More you are so hot! I hope one day you can get to live your fantasy.
Joankraig
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2007
- Posts
- 329
MFM's are, going away, our favorite sexual activity. So much fun for everyone!
jasonmason
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Sep 2, 2004
- Posts
- 97,008
MMMMM Joan, I am just now exploring this as a fantasy of mine. I had this introduced to me just recently and now I am really getting off on the thought of me and another guy pleasuring my wife. Although I think a MFMF might even hotter.
MrSneakyinPA
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Jun 23, 2012
- Posts
- 450
I want to share!! I want....WANT my wife to fuck her ex b/f with or without me. She told me they used to have sex all the time in his water bed, and he was good.
MilkFountain
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Mar 13, 2005
- Posts
- 1,481
This is a transcript of the hottest phone conversation I've ever had--even if it doesn't seem so to you!
Bill, hi. Sorry, yeah I know its Saturday morning—were you sleeping?
No. No problem, just snoozing.
Have you got a couple of minutes, or would you rather I called later?
No, fine, just woke up . . . Roomie went to gym.
Remember we invited you to dinner this evening?
Couldn’t forget.
Mm I don’t know how to put this . . .
Okay.
You’ve been over several times, dinners and a couple of breakfasts, right?
Yeah, is there a problem?
Not at all! I just wanted to say that I’m glad my wife finds you such good company.
(light, embarrassed laughter) sure, she’s great.
I’m sure you’ve noticed that she goes to some trouble to dress nicely when you come over.
Yeah?
And I’ve noticed you appreciate her.
Geez, she’s beautiful!
Remember the Austrian dirndl she wore a couple of weeks ago, where her breasts are up high?
Like I said, she looks . . . Well, she looks just wonderful.
That’s why I’ve called . . .
Go on.
I was talking to her last week. She admitted she finds you really attractive too.
(Silence from Bill.)
Sorry, this is embarrassing for me, okay?
No, no, no! go on . . . I’m awake, all ears.
We’ve been married about three years and sometimes she’s more than I can handle.
I don’t understand?
Like right now, being pregnant. She wants attention a lot more even than before. I mean more than I’ve been giving her.
(Again silence . . . listening silence.)
If you’d like, if it appeals to you, maybe tonight you’d like to do more than just look at her?
Uh, wow, go on . . .
She’s a smart lady, you know that . . . I thought maybe you could compliment her a a couple of times on the food and all—you know, the way you usually do, and then maybe when we’re well into the dinner, say something like, ‘Wow this meal is almost perfect!’
Why ‘almost’?
Just a second—just say it, and then wait for her or me to ask you what you mean.
Okay . . . ?
Then say that you’ve always had a fantasy about the perfect meal. Just let that hang in the air for one of us to push you to explain, okay?
And?
Then, when I’ve asked you or she has, and when you get over pretending you’re embarrassed, you can say you’ve always wanted a perfect meal like this to be accompanied by a beautiful woman across the table from you with her breasts bare.
I wouldn’t be pretending.
What do you mean?
May I speak freely?
Sure.
I’ve always thought your wife was beautiful. I mean . . .
You mean you come to dinner just to look at her, to be near her.
Well, not just to look at her, but yeah, maybe a lot.
You mean maybe you’ve always wanted her?
I guess.
You’ve noticed she kind of changes when she’s had a sip or so of wine?
Yeah, that’s amazing!
I’m sorry you’ve had to watch while she kind of crawls all over me.
Haha, It was kind of hot.
We can direct that at you.
(silence.)
Would you like that?
Hell, yes!
Look, once we get her to expose her breasts, just follow my lead.
What do you mean?
I’ll go over to her, kiss her, lift her breasts in my hands while you watch. When I motion, just come over, undo you pants, and offer your cock to her.
(Silence.)
She’s incredibly oral, loves sucking. When I asked, she said she wouldn’t mind sucking you.
Really? (incredulous.)
Would you like that?
Yeah, well . . . sure!
What’s your favorite fantasy with a woman?
Really want to know?
Really.
Haha, I guess I fantasize a lot about making it with a married woman.
Go on . . .
While her husband watches.
(Now it was my turn to be silent. Then I said
And?
I always imagine her on her back, legs over my shoulders, and whimpering.
Wow! While the husband watches?
Mmm yeah.
Have you imagined that with my wife?
Lots.
Are you hot while we’re talking now?
Yeah.
Tonight’s not far away. Don’t waste it.
Haha, okay, yeah, sure.
What else?
I imagine doing it in her mouth.
In my wife’s mouth? Did you imagine that with her?
Yes. Lots.
How do you finish?
You mean when I cum?
Yeah.
You don’t mind my talking like this about your wife?
I’m hot too.
Okay. I just don’t want bad feelings.
On the contrary . . .
Wow, great, okay.
Go on . . .
About how I cum?
Yeah.
I imagine I can feel the husband looking at us. I hold her head with both hands—or her bottom if that’s where I am—and just bury myself as deep as I can. So my balls are on her chin or her ass, and just let go inside her as deep as it goes.
No condom?
Mmm well, in my fantasy, no.
That turn you on?
Cumming in her bareback?
Yeah.
Damn!
Something wrong?
I’m starting to dribble.
Stop it now.
I’m squeezing the hell out of it. Just a second.
(I waited, listening to his occasional caught breath.)
Okay, back from the brink! Hahaha.
Okay, let’s see what happens tonight. I hope you’re up for it.
Yeah, of course. (A pause, and then . . .) A question?
Go ahead.
You won’t get angry?
About what?
If I really touch your wife?
Listen, everything’s up to her. May I make a suggestion?
Sure.
Bring a bottle of good French wine. That’ll make her protest a bit less about taking some.
Okay . . . Anything else.
Don’t bring condoms.
I cum a lot, I mean really.
(I didn’t want to tell him that she was two and a half months pregnant. I’d let him have his fantasy and tell him a day or some other time later.)
I asked: Do you usually cum more than once?
Depends, but usually, yes.
Will you be able to stay the night, if it works out that way?
Yeah, wow, sure.
Do you think you’d cum more than once if you stay the night?
For sure . . . I guess maybe four times.
You really want me to watch?
Is that okay with you?
I think maybe it’ll be interesting. I love watching my wife doing anything. Another thing . . .
Go on.
She once asked me if a man could last all night, not fall asleep, but want to be in her all night . . .
(silence)
What do you think?
I did that once, in a car.
Stayed hard all night?
Inside her and hard all night, didn’t cum until morning. She sucked me off.
(I suddenly had a vision of dissolving a Viagra tablet in his wine. I will do that.)
Will you be all right if I’m kissing her all over while you’re in her?
No problem. Sounds good.
I love my wife.
You really won’t mind?
It’s like giving her a present. In this case, you.
Wow.
Early in the evening, before dinner, make lots of good eye-contact with her. Hell, let her see you’ve got a hard on if that happens.
Haven’t you noticed before?
What?
I’ve had to hide the bulge several times. Haha, one time she noticed and smiled at me!
I hadn’t, but that’s good. I'm glad she saw, Haha especially that she smiled! Hey, here she comes, better hang up.
Okay. I’ll be there at 7:30.
Take care . . . Save it!
Hahaha sure.
Benedict_Arnold
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Nov 19, 2011
- Posts
- 491
Bloody hell I wish I had the nerve to do something like that she'd love it if I arranged the right guy.
My wide absolutely gets off on taking about being double penetrated. She loves having a toy in her ass while I finger her pussy. I know that we'll never bring another guy into the bedroom, but talking and fantasizing about it turns us both on.
henrik1322
Experienced
- Joined
- Jul 24, 2012
- Posts
- 62
That is something we fantasize about all the time.. We are actually looking for another Male to fulfill my MFM fantasy.
gregy70
Loving being owned
- Joined
- Jun 25, 2007
- Posts
- 2,037
Wish you were closer, my hand would be up!
