Fridays are magical. Four other days during the week are met with obligations, work, sleep – but not Fridays. Well let’s be honest, those things still take place, but there is a promise of more to come. Just over the horizon, the weekend can be glimpsed.
It was with this promise of rest and relaxation that I slowly opened my eyes when the overhead intercom dinged on and the voice of our captain could be heard.
“We’ve been cleared for landing, your flight attendants will be coming around to gather up any trash in the cabin and make sure your tray tables are seat backs are in their upright and locked position. We know you have choices with your air travel and we appreciate having been yours today. Thank you.” He clicked off the intercom as quickly as he’d come on, and I looked wistfully outside the window to the vista below.
I’d been away at a conference for the better part of the week and I was spent. I wasn’t scheduled to come back until the following day, but with everything wrapped up early I decided to surprise my wife and family by taking an earlier flight home. Yes, I am the last of the great “family men”. When I can be home with my wife and kids, I try to be as much as possible. If it takes flying a few hours with weariness in my bones to make that happen, so be it.
Wheels hit tarmac and we taxied to our gate. I took my overfull carry-on (I’m not a travel newb, if I need to sit on it to close it then so be it – no checked bags!) and wheeled it through the terminal, down the escalator and into the parking garage. I texted my wife as I walked to the car, just to set up the ruse that I would be turning in soon for bed.
“Hey honey :-*” I sent her.
I know the kids can be a handful when I’m not around, and I knew she’d get back to me eventually. I scanned the rest of the texts that started coming in when I’d finally turned my phone back on upon landing and saw one from my parents – “Just wanted you to know the kids are fine, they can’t wait to see you tomorrow!” with an accompanying picture of sleeping bags and pajama clad children settled down to sleep at their house.
Well this was odd – I know we occasionally will have the kids over to their grandparents’ house when we want some time together, but obviously that’s reserved for when we are both home.
My mind and my heart started to race with this new knowledge. I put the car in reverse and, with more speed than was reasonable, went through the parking garage, paid what was a small mortgage in fees, and merged with traffic to get onto the highway.
I checked my text to my wife – still hadn’t been responded to but….she had read it. I decided to try again.
“Is everything ok honey? I’m thinking about heading to bed soon”.
The message went through and the notification it was read followed soon after. Those three dots of both pain and pleasure started up and soon she had replied “I’m doing just fine”. No emojis, no context…just…fine.
Well usually when a woman says she’s “fine”, a decoder ring from a cereal box is not necessary to figure out it never means “fine”. It could mean she was upset, but if anything she wouldn’t have been upset at me. In this context, it made a whole hell of a lot more sense that she was preoccupied. And then it clicked – her Bull had come over.
To ensure there is no confusion out there – I am a cuckold. The long and short of it is my wife likes to get fucked – not have sex, not make love, but get balled so deep she might make sure crutches or a wheelchair are on hand for the aftermath. Now before you get it in your head about me, I’m not some wimpy guy or hung like a tic tac. I’m about 6″, decent thickness, and my wife cums more often than not with me. But aggression isn’t my forte – I’m not the type to just “take” a woman, and that’s what she wants. While I may not be on the small side, she definitely enjoys the feeling of a thick, long dick filling her up and I think she’s gotten used to it.
My wife’s Bull, her regular guy she sees, is all that and more. He cums like a machine, over and over again (I seriously sometimes worry he’s going to dehydrate himself, but he assures me that can’t happen) and makes her feel and say things she’s never said with me. And I like it. I love it. Even as I raced home, I thought about his shaft beginning to enter her, sliding in slowly with the promise of filling her soon after.
I tried to text her again but this time the message didn’t even seem to go through. “She turned her phone off” I said to myself, adding another clue to the list that told me what she was up to. I was like the Sherlock Holmes of boinking, all but convinced now that I’d figured out her evening plans. About 20 minutes after I’d left the parking garage I’d finally pulled into our subdivision and got within sight of our house.
I noted as I turned in off the street and slowly approached the house that I’d been half right – her Bull’s car was parked in the driveway…but so was somebody else. Now my cuck senses were tingling – I had no idea who this other person was. My wife hadn’t told me about anybody new she’d been planning on hooking up with. I killed the engine and sat there for a minute, looking at the house. I noted the stirring in my slacks and tried to ignore it. I’d wanted to surprise my wife, but she’d reversed that one on me big time! I wondered if I should leave her be, or if I should head inside.
Curiosity and a now raging hard on gave me my answer and I quietly got out of my car and closed my door as quietly as I could. I went up the walk, looking everywhere as if eyes were watching from every house or every bush and psychically knew what I was up to. Guilty conscience much? I got to the front door and, after silently drawing out my keys, opened it.
I noted a few things that hit me right off the bat. First was the dogs were kenneled, and that typically only happens if shenanigans were either in progress or about to be. Then I heard it – the unmistakable sound of a firm hand hitting the flesh of my wife’s amazing ass. I heard her characteristic yelping sound, followed by a moan of pleasure.
I stalked slowly to the stairs after closing the front door quietly and found my pants were no longer cooperating with me. Every slap and moan I heard seemed to make the slacks shrink more and more until finally my cock was begging to be released. I got to the top of the stairs and started to strip out of my clothes – shoes first, pants, shirt, until I was standing naked and vulnerable, alone near the hallway to our bedroom.
“Ohhh FUCK!” she yelled out, and I noted surprisingly for the first time that it wasn’t obscured by a closed door – then I remembered to myself, “No Kids”. There wasn’t a need for muffled sounds when it was presumably just you, your bull, and an as yet to be determined third party in your home.
“Yeah, that’s it, that’s my little slut” came the voice of her Bull, Dave, dripping with lust as the smack of her ass rang out again.
“You know it” my wife purred, and I quietly came to a stop in the hallway just outside of view of the door. I could hear it all now and I heard the sound of rhythmic skin slapping begin. She was getting fucked, hard, and I could hear moans rise up out of her throat. The pounding became quicker, more urgent. I could now make out the moans of the third party, and after hearing the sounds of sucking deduced she was getting spit-roasted (elementary my dear Watson!).
Before I knew it I realized my hand was already absentmindedly stroking my cock, rigid and swollen and begging to hear more of what was going on in my marital bed. I stroked slowly and strained to make out every detail. I knew how hard Dave fucked her, and he was in rare form tonight.
“Take it, fucking take every goddamn inch” he growled to her.
“Please…please, fuck me harder. I need it!” The sounds of her pleas were urgent and animalistic. She’d already surrendered to her base need to be taken by a strong, virile man – and here she’d gone and surrendered to two of them!
“I need this, please – god you fuck me SO much better” she exclaimed.
“Better than…?” His answering question was a leading one, and the response he got was obviously expected and satisfying.
“My husband – your…dick is…fucking…perfect!” The words were punctuated by stabs of his cock, and it was all I could do to not blow my load right then and there.
This is the part where I wish I could tell you that my skills as a sexual detective had carried over into being a sexual spy as well, but when I hear my wife being taken by another man I kind of….lose myself. A moan escaped my lips as I now furiously jerked off my cock, and the minute it came out I wished I could have grabbed at it and thrown it back into my mouth.
“Is…is someone there?” I heard my wife say from the hallway? Fear gripped her and I heard the pounding slow to nothing.
“Fuck me” I said as silently as I could to myself. I stood and took a deep breath. Why couldn’t I have just kept my mouth shut? Then I remembered that was the story of my life, and resigned myself to slowly walking into the room.
Stark naked with my cock still in my hand, I walked into view of my wife. She was on all fours on the bed, Dave’s cock still in her. He looked at me and smiled, while my wife looked like she’d seen a ghost. The new guy said nothing, but stayed on the other side of the bed, knelt down on it beside my wife’s mouth and continued stroking himself to keep hard.
“What the fuck…what are you doing home?!” she asked.
“Surprise?” I said, smiling weakly and laughing to show just how uncomfortable I was with getting caught. She eyed my cock and my hand, and the look on her face was one of pure fury.
“You’re still supposed to be out of town – I can’t believe you’d do this, that you’d….” and then her face broke out into a smile. She looked back over her shoulder at Dave and laughed, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t keep it up any longer”.
“Oh cmon!” he said in a mock admonishment, and then proceeded to strike her ass, getting a pleasant yelp out of my wife and a narrowing of her eyes at him.
“What…uh………wait, what?” I said, after realizing I now had no clue what was going on.
“I got the email about your itinerary change, duh” she said in a teasing tone. I was an idiot, I forgot that I’d added her on months ago to the alerts from my travel apps, and she’d of course noticed the update. “As soon as I saw it, I called your parents to get the kids and told Dave to head on over. Joe was his idea” she said, turning her head back to the other cock in the room and giving it a lick.
I’d been played. Had. Hoodwinked. Here I was trying to surprise my wife, and she’d turned the tables on me. My wife turned away from me and in a low, sultry voice declared “And now, my little cuck, you get to sit back and watch the finale”.
With that, the metaphorical gloves came off. Dave started to ramp up to a breakneck pace again and I watched, stunned, as I saw his hips working. The look on his face told me he was definitely about to pop. Joe too seemed close, my wife’s head bobbing up and down on as much of his dick as she could fit into her mouth.
Dave has about a 9-10 inch cock (and definitely is a shower, not a grower, because that thing is a monster even when he’s soft!) and Joe’s could have been a twin. It was thick, veined, and currently fucking my sexy wife’s gorgeous mouth. Joe’s hips moved in time with her motions and he reached up to grab both sides of her head as a guide. He began fucking her mouth and got a wide eyed reaction from my wife. She gagged, but recovered quickly and kept taking as much of him as she could. Her eyes began to water, and I could tell she was at her limit.
My senses were overloaded by this point, and I sank to my knees to continue furiously beating my now very unimpressive cock. Dave’s face told me how close he was, and he looked over at me and winked. He grabbed her hips and the moans shot from his mouth as he pounded her in quick, sharp strokes. He emptied himself into her, slams into her pussy punctuated by guttural sounds from his lips. Across the bed, the sounds of Dave cumming set off a chain reaction and Joe yelled out as well, arching over my wife slightly as he started to cum.
My wife can do anything if she sets her mind to it, studying and learning everything she can about something if she wants to tackle it – and I heard the sounds her throat made as she put those skills to use, expertly beginning to swallow every bit of cum with every shot he gave her.
I couldn’t handle any more and I felt myself about to blow as well. “Fuckkkk!” I yelled out as thick, white ropes of cum shot out onto the carpet in front of me. As the intensity of my orgasm waned, the cum shot out over my knuckles, and finally became dribbles that slowly slid down my now spent dick.
My wife giggled, apparently watching me as I finished myself off. When my eyes began to focus again, I saw her staring at me with a twinkle in her eye (and more than a little cum dribbled onto her chin).
“Welcome home baby”.