Chapter 3. They Have Her Pegged - Truth Revealed

To answer Roger’s question my husband Tracy - who was benching greater weights then he lifted as a 22 year-old college football player - scooped me up like a sex toy, manhandled me into a vertical position, lifted and carefully placed me on the other bed, settling my sloppy dripping gaping pussy hole directly on the upright peg of Roger’s eager fully erect cock.

My husband was literally penetrating my freshly fucked and overflowing pussy with Roger’s cock! The shock of the outrageous act ran through me like electricity. Also, my pussy was still getting aftershocks from my climax, it was another benefit of the ‘hot swap’ for Roger that he felt immediately.

I knew right away that they had planned this handoff for me, to give me the extra thrill with Tracy’s muscles handling my body as Roger’s cock filled my suddenly empty hole. My loving man lowered me onto my temporary fucker.

As soon as I was in place I started moving like an eager whore on Roger’s cock. I placed my hands on Roger’s chest and went right into my ‘special pole dance’ moves, combining up-and-down with a rotating hip move, accompanied by squelching sounds of his cock forcing the overflowing cum out of my pussy.

Tracy was still next to us, and I decided to add something to the show. With one hand I took hold of Tracy’s cock, which was still showing signs of life and giving me sticky fingers. I gave him a few tender strokes to say I loved him as I fucked Roger. What a thrill that was! I knew the guys had planned this opening series like football plays for maximum emotional effect, and like a properly handled football I just naturally went with the play.

As I started to move like a slut on Roger’s cock, by husband embraced my body, moving with me, then took me in the devouring kiss. As we kissed I felt his deflating cock surge one last time in my hand.

Fuck! I felt so very dirty and so incredibly hot to be passed between the men, panting and dripping like a dirty used whore, as they showed I was still loved and enjoyed by my husband while Roger’s cock went into me!

As I got my movement going I realized that something about the entry felt wonderfully different to me. It tickled a memory ... from about 4 weeks ago. This feeling of going from guy to guy, each with different cocks, was one of the special joys I had discovered the only time I was fuck while doing two guys in series. That had been with Mick and Gabe, Mr. G’s horny boys, who were the first guys I ever did like that, one right after the other as Ariel watched me work as a expensive whore. I didn’t really identify the sensation of the “hot handoff” until just now. For just a moment I wondered about the thrills possible from taking three or more guys in series. That seemed kind of unlikely.

But a girl can dream, can’t she?

Still, the thought of doing several guys, being manhandled with pleasure as I went from one to another, really got to me, winding me up more than I thought possible.

To me, the ‘feel’ was not about differences in width or length of the members, those are not easily distinguished when the differences were not that substantial. (Gabe was the exception, his skinny cock was an extreme case.) It was more about the angle and stiffness to shift the angle as I moved. As I have seen, a cock is really happy at just about any angle that fits. My pussy is happy to welcome anything that fits. This chance to contrast the two is really not a big deal physically because my husband and I often changed positions. In any event I really could not say which felt bigger or longer, that is foolishness except for the real outliers, like Gabe. My pussy did thrill a bit at ‘something feels different’ with a sense of added excitement before it settled back to the more pleasant array of sensations from the old in-out.

The greater impact is the emotional component of being passed around. Women just naturally attach to one man, it is part of our deep programming driving us to know ‘who put the baby in.’ Being passed around messed that up, it generated a mental “error code” for a woman. She knows it is wrong except in special cases, like when her man is killed. But in this case I knew the strong bond between the men, so while the “error code” was sent from deep in my brain, my knowledge of our joint history mutated it from an “error code” into a “boost the volume signal,” something that amped the intensity of emotion for the handoff.

I always liked seeing Roger’s smiling face when we fucked. When Tracy broke his kiss and stepped back Roger got this look in his eyes, a hungry look I never saw him giving Foxxy. Well, he was older now, his life could be more than half over. Part of that look was appreciation, but there was something else involved. It wasn’t ‘glowing love’ like my husband’s adoring eyes, but it was something intense, something mixing his age and experience, capturing his regret for all the chances missed and how much he desired me now that his situation was clearer.

I did not love Roger, and he did not love me. But he had a lustful desire for my pussy, that touched me and made me feel good as a sexual woman. Plus I has a lusty desire for his hairy body and experienced face. I really liked rubbing against him. Well, I had the weekend to curate those feelings.

Roger turned to my husband. “I have to say, I never appreciated how good it was to have a freshly fucked pussy on my cock. Most guys consider ‘sloppy seconds’ as a downgrade, a poor consolation prize for those who merit a lower place in the order. But the baseline truth is, in terms of the pure carnal feeling, the post-climax slippery sexiness of this sloppy creme-filled hottie actually feels better then the last time I put little Mr. Rogers in her about 15 hours ago. I admit that the opportunity for comparison does not ordinarily present itself outside of professional circuits, so I’m guessing that most guys never get that. Also, I imagine the ‘queer’ factor gets in the way of how good it feels. But for me, after watching you two, now being inside this used pussy is unique, an extra thrill for me. It is because I have not lost her, I have gained license to fuck her used pussy from both of you. I consider it a premium!”

Fuck me indeed! I could not believe how these guys were talking about me openly as a “sloppy slut” or “creme-filled hole” to put their cock’s in. Plus they were doing it as if I was not listening, which they had to know ramped things up for me.

My husband agreed with Roger and carried it further. “To many guys the idea of one guy with two women is a common fantasy image, but that is really just male ego. A real guy can only hope to satisfy one woman at a time with his cock. The idea of taking turns, or eating one woman while fucking another means the time gets progressively longer and more boring for them. Unless the parties have some sort of extra bond, like sisters or both women having kids with the guy, the second woman doesn’t really add anything. Guy only have one cock, and after it is used once it is kind of boring to the girls. In fact, I bet that if the girls like sex and are attractive they are likely to get interested in the soft comforts of each other instead of the inevitable waiting for the deflated guy. But two guys, willingly and openly sharing a woman in a immediate serial fashion like this, ‘fresh and hot’ like the sign says at the donut shop, never gets mentioned in either polite or rowdy company ... it is not ‘macho’ but strikes the insecure guy as potentially queer ... but DAMN ... we are enlightened so we can see it sure feels great to all involved ... as long as the woman’s energy holds and we all have trust.”