A few days after Mona conspired to have herself masturbated through sheer pantyhose at a party, my wife and I went to a party, too. I will admit that I was hoping to find Mona there: for a glimpse of her fabulous tits, at the very least, and maybe for a private bedroom fondle of her shaven pussy through sheer hose? Well she wasn’t there, although the crowd was fun, and drinking a lot. We didn’t know a lot of the people attending, which is rare in a smaller town, and which tends to turn us both on. Nothing’s healthier for a marriage, as far as I’m concerned, than a bit of across-the-room flirtation, a hint of possibilities. And my wife does turn heads, and my head does enjoy a good turn or two.

But we didn’t induce an orgy or bring strangers back to our bed for naked flirtations. We drove home after midnight, feeling loose and good, laughing about the party. Neither of us had to find a way to propose it — we knew we were going to fuck down deep.

No romance, but there was romance in that. We didn’t even make it to the bed. Her lips were on mine as the key went into the lock, and the front door closed again with a bang as I pushed her against it, one hand gripping her shoulder, the other the inside of her thigh, my thumb feeling up into the damp center of her panties, my tongue pressing into her mouth. Her tongue was not enough in response. I needed more. I needed to lose myself in tits and cunt, and her blouse, already unbuttoned low, came fully open easily. Her tits came out so easily too, as I raked her bra aside with clutching fingers.

My wife, she likes to be overcome, but she was cock-starved that night, and her red painted fingers slipped magically over my crotch until in my madness I felt that my cock was free and clutched hard into the flat of her palm. We fell to the floor in a tangle while trying to get me extricated from my shoes and my pants. She fell perpendicularly on top of me, her shirt and her bra having completely vanished now, her panties stretched aside into the groove between her soft mound and her tensed leg, beneath a skirt that was bunched up over the curve of her hips, as Mona’s had been.

Her mouth dove for my cock while emitting a surprising growl, and I glanced up to the pale, firm halves of a perfect ass, which were split by a gleaming notch of pussy. I had to have it all in my mouth and pulled her senseless leg over me until I could raise my head and plunge my tongue deep inside her sopping, swollen cunt. I felt her groan through my cock, and then she pressed it further back towards her throat, and then I groaned. I licked her clit, smothered it with the flat of my tongue, and then I plunged, plunged deep into her wetness with a tongue hardened like a cock.

And I wanted her anus. I wanted that too. I wanted everything. The smooth stretch of skin sweeping back from the back edge of her slit (at which she momentarily lost suck on my prick for a full-bodied scream), and then the sweet pucker of her anus, gently, tasting mildly of salt, slowly relaxing for my tongue, which pushed slightly in (at which she merely sighed, although the sigh was as full-bodied at the scream). I wanted to be filthy. I wanted to break records.

After a while our mouths began to move more widely over each other’s bodies, tracing lust across skin in our invisible ink, and I wriggled out from beneath her to rise up on my knees and move my throbbing mouth-slicked cock towards her proffered pussy from behind. My eyes closed, my dick just naturally found its gap, and I pushed slowly, deeply into that sheath. She was wailing now, all pussy, all voice, unconscious of what the neighbors (sexy themselves) were hearing. Even I, normally quieter, shouted out – for my wife, for pure pleasure.

We fucked and fucked, her ass bucking back urgently into my hips. I wet my thumb and pressed it against the pert circle of her anus, rhythmically at first, and then the thumb pressed in. She was so sunk down in the fuck, her cheek pressed against the rug, that she didn’t even seem to feel this new entry. Before long my entire thumb was moving slickly inside her, feeling the simultaneous press of my cock through thin, elastic walls. Her head was lolling about on the floor in a crazed, violent rut.

“Put it in me,” I heard her hiss. I paused for a moment in my stroking, unsure of what she meant. “Put it there!” she cried, and I knew what she meant: the rare occasion, the full moon of lust for us both, the path so exciting because it’s so rarely taken, the filling that is utterly complete but that tantalizingly leaves her otherwise unfilled. Anal fucking. That’s right. Joy on the back alleys, on the dark streets.

I pulled out of her vagina, and everything was sopping. I moved my cock several times shallowly up through the line of her wetness, and then I pulled back again, admittedly in wonder at the sight of myself, and then, gently, I pressed my tip at the kiss of her ass, held motionless, breathlessly, for my entry. The tip slid in, and she gasped, astonished with us and the pleasure. I couldn’t hold back. All that I could offer was slowness, a gentle but steady progress of my cock into her depths, further and further until she’d swallowed me whole. There was resistance at first from her fresh body, but past that first clasping ring, the fucking was smooth, and endless, and I felt all of her relax as if she’d been stabbed by a powerful drug. Slowly I moved in and out until her bucking recommenced, and I knew that there were no limits, no place deep enough for my pulsing cock.

I fucked her hard then, both of us screaming. My forearm was held against my balls so that I could dip my fingers into her steaming pussy. Her fingers frantically intertwined with mine, and she took over the frenzied masturbation – and what a masturbation, Mona – while I took as much of her ass as I could in my two hands and drove us through the floor, through the basement, through the earth. We fucked right up to the edge of oblivion, and both exhausted now, fading, we knew I had to come. But it was “In me,” she wanted, and as soon as she said the words, I felt the come ripped from my balls as if by claws, and I emptied all my juice, all my saliva, all my tears into the heart of her. The orgasm felt as if it lasted an hour.

Then we fell together in a disordered heap, and I laughed for a minute or so, as I will very occasionally do after particularly epic fucks, and it was an hour later that I woke up in that same position.

“Let’s go to bed,” I said, waking her and helping her to her feet. “I guess we gave the neighbors quite a show.”

“Good,” she said. “I want even more.”

Array

Need to catch up? Read the Sex Experiment from the beginning: Table of Contents

Then subscribe to our newsletter for a free copy of Mr. X's hot, hot novel, The Known Experiment, and choose to get updates on blog posts, books, and special offers.