One Time Too Many

by KingBandor

Copyright© 2018 by KingBandor

Erotica Sex Story: A humorous story of a husband and wife from Texas who have a misunderstanding about her having sex with another man. She said "just one time", but he said that is "one time too many".

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Cheating   Slut Wife   .

This story is intended to be somewhat humorous. It works best if you apply a Texas accent to the narration and characters’ spoken parts. Oh, it’s about a wife fucking someone other than her husband. I have forewarned you.


Have you ever had one of those days where everything you thought to be true turns out to be just a bunch of lies? You know, the kind of day where you lose everything, a day where you have to throw away your old life and start a new one. I had one of those days today.

The funny thing about it was today was my birthday. It wasn’t funny in a humorous sense, where we sit around laughing jovially over some shared joke. It was funny in the weird, bizarre sense of “how in the hell would anybody think this was something I’d want for my birthday.”

The day started well enough. It was a Saturday and, since it was my birthday, I was sleeping in. I rarely got to do that on regular weekends. Much to my surprise, Hannah, my wife of twenty years, woke me with a blowjob. That had not happened in a long, long time. In fact, I can’t remember her ever having done it. She wasn’t very fond of sucking dicks.

I’d been dreaming that my twenty-year-old secretary, Tammy, was under my desk at work, sucking my fat boner. It was just getting good when I woke up to find it was actually my wife sucking on my pecker.

“Holy shit!” I blurted out. Hannah was laying between my legs, gripping my cock near the base as she bounced her head up and down rapidly. When I spoke, she pulled off my cock and grinned at me.

“Happy Birthday, Henry,” she said with a wink. She ran her open mouth down the shaft, all the way to her fingers, then back to the tip. She wrapped her mouth around it and resumed sucking me, with a hungry look in her eyes. I groaned and relaxed to enjoy the experience.

Blowjobs were pretty few and far between in the first place. If Hannah ever did suck my dick, she always made me pull out to cum. Most of the time, it never even got that far as halfway through the blowjob, she would just climb on and ride it until we both got off. She would rather fuck than suck.

It didn’t take her long to bring me to the edge of cumming. I tried to get her to stop as I knew how she hated it when I came in her mouth. However, this time she just waved my hands away and kept sucking. She even started doing it faster and took her hand off the shaft as she tried to wedge my dick into her throat. She had never deep throated me before or even tried to, so I was surprised by her aggressiveness.

“Damn,’’ I thought, “this is going to be a great birthday.”

I blew my load, which was accompanied by a loud series of grunts, not from me, from Hannah. When I finished, she let my cock slide out of her mouth and grinned up at me. She made a big deal of swallowing, then wiped the spillage off her chin, sucking it from her fingers.

“Damn,” she said, a little out of breath, “you came a lot! Gimme a kiss!” She climbed up, trying to push her face to mine. I pulled away, pushing on her shoulders.

“Ewww,” I snarled, “Hell no! Go brush your damned teeth if you want a kiss.”

She laughed and scampered away to the bathroom. I crawled out of bed, stretched and followed her, needing to drain my bladder. I stood at the toilet, raised the lid, pointed my cock at the large, open hole of the commode and proceeded to piss on the wall.

“Shit!” I cried out as I tried to direct the uncontrollable stream. “You bent my pee hole, woman!”

Hannah laughed with a mouth full of toothpaste and shook her head. “Clean that up!” she snapped at me, then spit and rinsed, tossing me a bottle of 409.

I sprayed the wall, and the floor with the cleanser then mopped up the mess with some paper towels. I brushed my teeth to get rid of any lingering morning breath.

Hannah pulled her nightgown off and slinked away, naked to lay on the bed. She spread her legs and started rubbing her pussy. “Hurry up!” she called out, “you got a job to do!”

I finished up and joined her on the bed. I’d like to say that at 49, Hannah still looked like she had when we got married. I’d like to, but that would be a lie. The truth was Hannah looked like what a 49-year old woman, with two kids, was supposed to look. Her hips were a lot wider than they used to be. Her ass had lost its sexy roundness and was oddly both plump and flat. I never really understood how she had managed to achieve that look. While her boobs were bigger than before, they were slightly deflated and sagged several inches below their youthful position. Her hair was more gray than auburn, and she had wrinkles on her face, crepe-like skin under her chin and age spots on her hands.

Hannah carried her age well enough, and I still found her sexy. She had always been pretty, and she still was. Dress her up, put some makeup on her, a pushup bra and some Spanx, and she could still turn all the heads at the local cowboy bar on Friday nights. I was a lucky man when we married, and I was still a lucky man after all this time.

It wasn’t like Time had been any kinder to me. I definitely could lose a few pounds, if the dictionary defined “a few” as fifty. I had my share of gray hairs and wrinkles, too. I didn’t work out. Gyms were for pussies. Only yuppies and transplants from California jogged. I kept my manly shape the right way. I did 12-ounce curls nightly and worked in the yard or out on our ranch. I didn’t have a “dad bod,” as I had recently heard about on Good Morning America. Instead, I had what you should probably call a Grand Dad bod.

Hey, at least I still had most of my hair, and my dick could get hard. It might not have been as hard as it had been at thirty, and it sometimes took more effort to get hard a second time, than it had in my youth. It was big, but not huge, at about 7.25 inches, and yes, that extra quarter inch matters. It did its job, and Hannah never complained.

In fact, Hannah usually seemed to like how well it worked. She and I enjoyed sex on a regular basis. By regular, I mean once a week, on a good week, but definitely no less than once a month, most months. Sometimes, we would forget to do it. But, when we remembered, we’d have a quickie, and that would hold us for a while.

So, today Hannah seemed hornier than usual, which surprised me. I assumed it was just her way of being nice to me for my birthday, but as I was about to find out, there was more going on than met the eye. I lay down next to her and squeezed one of her droopy boobs, kissing it on the wide areola, that never recovered from nursing our kids.

Hannah moaned and rolled onto her side to face me directly, allowing me better access to her body. “I want you to eat my pussy,” she said as I sucked the nipple into my mouth and rolled my tongue around it. I released her tit with a pop and looked at her funny.

“What? It’s my birthday!” I protested. She spread her legs wider and started pushing my head down, roughly.

“Well, this is your birthday pie,” she laughed, “Eat up!”

I kissed down her wavy tummy and dragged my mouth through her furry little snatch. I pushed my mouth against her gash and rubbed my face back and forth, feeling her hot, little cunt spread its slickness on my skin. Keeping my mouth closed, I rubbed my lips against her and found that hard, little button, up near the top, where her fat pussy lips came together. I shook my head back and forth, rapidly, right on the nub, the way she liked it.

Hannah groaned and pulled my hair. “Lick it, baby, don’t just tease me.”

I sighed, then reluctantly opened my mouth, tentatively slipping my tongue out. Hadn’t she ever heard that “real men don’t eat pussy”? I used just the tip of my tongue and pushed it against her clitoris, moving it up and down. Hannah gasped and pulled my head more tightly against her wet pussy.

“Oh fuck,” she cried out, “Right there, dammit. You’re gonna make me cum.”

Good. If Hannah came quickly, I could stop giving her oral and wipe the slime off my face. I closed my eyes, held my breath and lapped at her clit more roughly. Hannah bucked her hips and thrust into my face. I felt her body tense then jerk three times as something warm and wet flowed out against my chin. I jerked my face back.

“Did you just pee on me?” I snapped. Hannah opened her eyes and giggled.

“Maybe just a little,” she said laughing, “but, I think that was just cum, baby.”

I wiped at my chin and smelled it. My fingers were wet and sticky, but it didn’t smell like piss. She grabbed my dick. It was hard again.

“Come here, birthday boy,” she whispered. “Come here and fuck me.”

She guided my dick to her wet pussy as I rolled over between her legs. I moved up and pushed it into her. She groaned and wrapped her feet around my hips, using them to pull me in deeper. I started fucking her, pumping my dick into her pussy. After all these years, I still loved the way her cunt gripped my cock. It was made for my dick and fit perfectly.

Hannah was panting and wiggling under me. She pulled my head to her tits and ran her fingers through my hair. I started sucking on her tits, switching back and forth from one to the other as my thrusting steadied into a slow, constant rhythm. Since I’d already cum once, I knew I’d be able to last at least five minutes, more if I went slowly.

“I have a big surprise for your birthday tonight, baby,” Hannah said as she rocked her hips, her pussy squeezing my dick as it moved in and out.

“Mmmm,” I said with a mouthful of tittie.

“Remember the new kid at my job, Darrel?” she asked as I fucked her. I wasn’t expecting to have a conversation during sex. It distracted me, and my hips almost stopped moving. I quit sucking her tit and looked at her face.

“Yeah,” I answered. I remembered Darrel. He was a smug, little shit that I’d met at a company softball game a few months ago. He thought he was all that. Athletic. Good looking. Cocky. The girls at Hannah’s office all seemed to think he was something special. They fawned over the jackass, each one trying to outdo the other to get his attention. I’d even noticed Hannah flirting with the bastard.

He didn’t look so smug when I hit a double off his ass in the third inning. I had no idea why Hannah was bringing his sorry ass up at a time like this. I would much rather not talk and finish fucking, like always. I tried to ignore it and thrust into her harder several times. Hannah gasped, then moaned, her hands sliding down to grab my ass.

After several seconds, Hannah caught her breath and spoke again. “I invited him over tonight for your birthday party,” she said as she deliberately snapped her hips up and down while clenching her cunt hard on my dick. Her actions forced a whimper out of me, then I recovered and started pumping faster. She was a dirty, little fuck and I liked it. I didn’t know why she felt the need to talk, though, and wished she would shut the fuck up and concentrate on banging.

I bit down on her nipple, and she squealed and giggled with delight. “Oh, fuck, baby,” she exclaimed, as she clung to me more tightly. Her pussy seemed extra hot and doubly wet. I realized I might not make it to five minutes. I could already feel my nuts starting to tighten up.

I pushed myself up on to my hands, arms outstretched, back arched and started ramming my cock into her. She spread her legs wider and dug her heels into my ass. Her pussy was rising up hard to meet each of my thrusts. This was better. No talking. Just fucking. I was going to nut any second.

“I’m going to fuck him in front of you while you watch, for your birthday,” Hannah said, then threw her head back and started cumming. “Yes! Yes! Fuck my pussy!”

I heard what she said, but somehow it didn’t register in my brain. I was too busy. I let out a loud groan and started shooting my load into her.

“Yes!” she screamed, “Cum in my pussy! Cum in your slut!”

“Ungh!” I repeatedly grunted as I shot my sperm into her pussy. I came hard, my whole body shaking with each blast of seed. Finally, I was spent and dropped down next to her on the bed.

“What did you say?” I asked her, dazed by her words and thinking that maybe I’d imagined it.

Hannah kissed me and hugged me to her bosom. “I’m going to fuck Darrel tonight, here at the house. You’re going to watch. Happy Birthday!” When she finished she tried to kiss me again, but I pulled my face back, out of reach, staring at her coldly.

“You’re going to fuck Darrel?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said.

“Tonight?” I asked.

“Yes,” she answered.

“And you want me to watch?” I asked.

“Yes,” she answered, nodding and wiggling her eyebrows at me. “It’s going to be so fucking hot.”

I guess I should have seen it coming, but as they say, hindsight is 20-20. As I lay there, I thought about the past few months. Ever since that dickhead had joined the company, Hannah had been working more extended hours, often coming home late. She had stopped going to work dressed like a frumpy, middle-aged homemaker, but had started wearing cuter, sexier and more revealing clothing.

She had told me about Darrel, long before I’d ever seen him. When he joined the company, Hannah volunteered to be his “buddy.” It was something they did with new hires to help them learn the ropes and get used to the company. I never thought anything about it. He was a kid, and she was a mature woman. I never had any inkling that Hannah might have some seedy interest in a guy his age. It made my skin crawl.

I shuddered as more and more strange thoughts crept into my head.

I remembered the way she had introduced him to me. She kept touching him. There was nothing strange, just a hand on his arm, or on his shoulder, a pat on the back, a playful slap here and there. I never saw her do that to anybody but me, now that I thought about it.

I remembered that we ran out of ice at one point at the softball game and picnic. My mouth slowly opened as I realized that Hannah had volunteered to go to the store with Darrel to get more ice. Oh, shit. I recalled seeing how she was laughing and joking with him when they came back.

Then I remembered meeting her and her coworkers at Two Step Charlies for drinks after work a few Friday’s in a row. He was always there. Come to think of it, he was always sitting next to Hannah. The touchy-feely shit had happened there too. With a cringe, I remembered them dancing. I recalled that one time I’d seen him put his hands on her ass when they were dancing. I had wanted to go over and punch the little bastard’s lights out, but one of her coworkers distracted me.

When I had mentioned it to Hannah later, she blew it off. With a growing sense of dread, I realized that was the last time Hannah had asked me to join them. I never gave it two-seconds thought as I had a poker game on Friday nights that I was able to go to instead. As I lay there, with my cum still leaking out of my shrinking dick, I wished that I had continued to meet her instead of playing Texas Hold ‘Em.

I couldn’t think straight. I had a billion questions, but I was struggling to sort them out. Finally, I asked the big question: “Have you been fucking him?”

Hannah shook her head and slid out of bed to grab a towel. “No, honey,” she said as she started wiping her pussy. “It hasn’t gone that far. I was saving it for tonight. We’re just going to do it this one time. It’s not like I want to have an affair. This is for you, honey. You get to watch another man fuck me, then he’s going to leave, and you and I are gonna fuck our brains out.”

I was confused. At no point in our marriage had I ever said anything about wanting to watch Hannah fuck someone else. Hell, I didn’t think Hannah was all that into sex, anyway. I mean we didn’t fuck that much. Why would she want to fuck someone else?

“Why do you think I want to watch that little shit head fuck you?” I asked the shock and betrayal that I felt began to show.

Hannah grinned, “I saw the way you always watched us. You saw the way we flirted with each other. I could tell you liked it. You remember how hot the sex was that night after the softball picnic? You were a wild man!”

I thought about it a second. Hannah was right. I had been kind of rough that night, but it was because I was angry that she had been flirting with that punk.

“And,” she continued, “you loved the way we would flirt on Friday nights at Two Step Charlies. You would sit there and watch me dancing with him. You never even tried to dance with me. You liked it that I danced with him all close and all. You know he had a hard-on and was rubbing it on my ass.”

“I did?” No, I didn’t. I had no clue. If I had, I would have whooped his ass.

“Yeah,” she said as she sat back down next to me. “As soon as we got home, you attacked me, and we fucked like kids again. You hadn’t touched me in weeks, but as soon as we go home that first Friday night, you were all over me it turned you on so much.”

How in the hell did she misinterpret things this badly? That night I became furious that Hannah acted like such a slut. I wanted to show her that I was her husband and only I got to fuck her. So, yeah, I had fucked the hell out of her.

“Remember that one night we talked about it. You saw how he had his hands on my ass. He’d been feeling me up all night, and I admit I felt him a bunch too. I saw you watching us. I was afraid you were mad, but when we got home, you told me how much it turned you on.”

“I did?” I asked, shaking my head, trying to clear out the confusion. I did no such thing.

“Yeah, remember?” she said, as she started cleaning my messy cock with the towel. “You said you saw Darrel had his hands on my ass and it got you hot! Then we had the hottest sex ever.”

I turned my head and stared into the ceiling trying to bring back the memories of that night. I had told her that I had seen him playing with her ass. That much was correct. I told her that I was getting fired up and was about to jump in and take charge when her co-worker distracted me. I said it was a good thing she did, or I would have embarrassed everyone.

Fuck. I could see how Hannah had maybe misunderstood that.

“Uh, ok,” I said. Hannah was right about the sex. We’d been having a lot of angry sex. It wasn’t that seeing them messing around had turned me on. It was that seeing it had filled me with rage and I took it out on her pussy.

“You even gave me your permission to take it to the next level,” she said, leaning down to kiss me. “I love you so much, you big stud.”

“How did I do that?” I asked, curious to find out what she had misunderstood now.

“You told me that you wouldn’t come to the Friday get-togethers anymore so that I could hang out with my ‘boy toy’ without you there. You said if you were there, you didn’t know if you would be able to control yourself and didn’t want to make a scene in front of my coworkers.”

I stared open-mouthed at my wife in complete disbelief. Hannah was delusional. The only way she could have been stupid enough to interpret my words and actions this badly was because she wanted to fuck Darrel. So, she heard what she wanted to hear. I had been in a rage that night. My face was red, and I yelled at her. It was the closest I’d ever come to striking a woman in my life.

“And you were a monster that night!” she said sexily. “You spanked me and fucked me in the ass. I had a hard time sitting right for a few days from you being so rough.”

I sat up. I wanted to puke. I couldn’t believe this was the same woman I married and with whom I raised two kids.

“You said you hadn’t fucked yet?” I asked, holding out hope that it was not too late to fix this problem. As long as she hadn’t cheated, I could chalk this all up to an epic misunderstanding. We could get through this. Hell, we might even laugh about it in a few years. “Right?”

“Right,” she said. “So far, only a few blowjobs. We go out at lunch every day, and I blow him in his car. Oh, and on Fridays, we do 69. Charlie’s has this little back room that’s perfect for it. Oh, and after I told him you took my anal cherry, he begged me to let him do it. I figured that’s not the same as really fucking, so I said ok. He’s done that a couple of times, so far. But, no, he’s never fucked me, I mean, not in the pussy. We’re saving that for tonight.”

My hopes came crashing down. I stood up and stumbled toward the bathroom.

“Oh, don’t go anywhere,” Hannah said laying back on the bed, “I’m horny now, I need you to fuck me again.”

I looked at her with disgust. “Save it for Darrel,” I said as I went into the bathroom and locked the door.

“That’s a good idea,” she yelled through the door. “That will make it even hotter.”

I threw up until there was nothing left inside me. I washed my face but needed to feel clean, so I got in the shower. Halfway through, I heard the door open. Hannah came into the room.

“You locked it,” she said, “good thing the key thingy was out here on the door frame. I need to shave my pussy. Darrel wants me smooth as a baby when he fucks me for the first time.”

I felt a wave of nausea pass through me. I turned the hot water off and let the icy cold pour over my body. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I got out, grabbed a towel and left the room as Hannah stood with one foot on the sink and a razor scraping away your pubic hairs.

I looked at her and knew it was over.

“You’re determined to do this, tonight?” I asked.

“Oh yes!” she said, grinning, “You’re going to love it, baby. Just this one time, then we’ll fuck like rabbits.”

“When is he coming?” I asked.

“He’ll be here at six. I figured we would skip dinner and get right into it. We can order pizza or something if we need food.”

I shook my head. I had lost everything. How my life could flip upside down so quickly was beyond me.

“I’ve got shit to do. I’ll be in my office,” I said as I walked out. I went to my sanctuary, closed and locked the door, then sat down at my computer. I needed to do some serious research and figure out what the fuck I was going to do with my life and my slut of a wife. I thought about crying but laughed. I wasn’t a pussy. “The hell with crying,” I thought. I wanted to beat the shit out of someone.

I wasn’t sure where to start. The first thing I did was turn off all of our automatic bill payment systems for the lights, water, gas, car payments, every damn thing I could think of. I changed a few of the essential passwords, where I figured I could get away with it.

I set up a few special accounts, too, just in case I needed them, ones that would be difficult to trace back to me, ones that would let me publish videos of amateur porn.

The last thing I found surprised me but left me with a big grin and a stack of papers to print, review, and sign. Around 1, Hannah banged on the door wanting to know what I was doing. I told her to leave me alone and fix me some lunch. She came back a few minutes later with a turkey sandwich, a bowl of leftover venison chili and a cold beer. She was a good wife, apart from this one little thing about being a lying, cheating slut.

I printed off a few other things that I thought might come in handy and put all the pages into a folder. It came as a considerable surprise to me that I could file for divorce online in less than ten minutes and at the cost of only $129. I laughed as I paid for the petition and printed out the complicated legal bullshit. Sixty fucking days is all it was going to take, and I’d be a free man.

I stashed the folder in our bedroom out of sight, then made sure the fancy video camera was all set up. Hannah had insisted we get it for the girls’ graduation. I hadn’t used the damn thing but twice since. I put it on a tripod and tested it out to make sure I could capture Hannah in all her glory tonight. I didn’t want to miss anything.

Around 3, I was all ready to go. The only thing left to do was wait. I decided to hang out with my best friend, Jim Beam, while I waited for dickhead to get there. Hannah kept flitting around the house like a nervous wreck. She tried on every damn outfit in her closet and kept parading by me to ask which one was the right one. I could have cared less. I got tired of it and finally told her what I thought.

“Why the fuck don’t you save us all some trouble and just be naked,” I told her. “If you need to, wear a robe or something. I don’t think your little lover boy cares what you have on. He’s just going to have you take it off anyway.”

“You don’t think I should dress up and look good, first?” she asked me. Damn, I could see how excited and anxious she was. She was profiling and looking in her dressing mirror. I let out a sigh and against my better judgment, did a kind thing.

“Honey, you look great all the time. Do your hair and makeup, and if you think you need some sexy panties or bra to feel better about yourself, then do that. But, seriously, you don’t need to wear anything special for Darrel. He’s not going to care.”

That seemed to make her happy. She kissed me on the cheek and told me she loved me. All I could think was that she loved me so much, she was going to fuck some other dude on my birthday. Yeah, okay. That kind of love I don’t need.

I sat down with a glass of whiskey and tried to watch a game. Hannah kept popping in with a question or comment. I finally had enough and went outside. I decided to chop some firewood. That helped. I kept imagining Dickhead’s face on the logs as I hit them with the axe. That lasted for a few swings before the mental picture turned into Hannah’s smiling face. That helped even more. I worked up a good sweat, then went back inside to refill my glass.

Hannah saw me, and her lip turned up. “You need to get a shower!” she shouted at me. “You stink!”

“Why do I need to take a shower?” I asked, pouring a stout three fingers of bourbon into my glass and dropping in a chunk of ice. I listened to the cracking sounds and imagined they were coming from the bones in Hannah’s neck. “I ain’t fucking nobody.”

“Yeah, well you just do,” she demanded using the same kind of logic she had used with our kids. I knew she would not shut the fuck up leave me in peace until I did it, so I drained my glass and headed, somewhat wobbly, to the bathroom. I got in the shower and washed, then started to put on the same clothes I had been wearing. I shook my head, realizing Hannah would bitch at me if I did. So, I reluctantly put on a clean pair of jeans and a casual shirt. It was one of the ones that Hannah liked me to wear when we would go out. I wasn’t doing it to be nice, but for some reason, I felt like I needed to look my best when Jackass showed up.

As I walked out of the bathroom, I caught myself and brushed my teeth, then splashed a little Aqua Velva on, even though I hadn’t shaved in four days. When I walked into the family room, Hannah saw me and brightened up considerably.

“Wow!” she said, “You clean up nicely.” She walked over and put her arms around me. I let her kiss me but didn’t kiss her back. “You smell good, too. Want a quickie before Darrel gets here?”

“Are you crazy?” I said pushing her back, “I just took a damned shower. You want to get me all sweaty again? Save it for your young stud.”

I was sitting in the family room, nursing another glass of brown when the doorbell rang. “About fucking time,” I thought.

“He’s here!” came the excited shout from the kitchen as Hannah appeared, wearing only the robe, as I suggested. “Get the door!”

“Me?” I asked, sipping the whiskey, “He’s your fuck buddy. You get the door.”

“Henry!” she snapped at me. I grumbled as I set my glass down, on a coaster like she always told me to do, then extricated myself from the Lazy Boy. I had to steady myself for a couple of seconds. I wasn’t drunk, but the room was a little unsteady. The doorbell rang again.

“Keep it in your pants!” I shouted, “I’ll be there in a second, goddammit!”

“Henry! Be nice!” Hannah scolded from the kitchen. I opened the door with a scowl. Darrel saw me and stepped back nervously. He looked like he didn’t know if I was going to hit him or shake his hand. I did neither. I watched him up and down. He was a skinny mother fucker, and not very tall. What the fuck did Hannah see in this little prick? I stepped back, leaving the door open, without even speaking to him and went back in the Family Room.

As I sat back down, I called out, “Hannah, your fuck buddy is here to get laid.”

Darrel let himself in and closed the door. He nervously entered the family room, looking around, I assumed for my wife. She walked into the room, pretending to be surprised. I rolled my eyes.

“Oh! Darrel!” she said, smiling, fingering the lapel of her terry cloth robe. “You’re early. You know what they say about the early bird.”

“Yeah,” I interrupted, picking my glass to drink more, but realized it was empty, “it’s the first one to get shot.” I stood up and went to get another drink. I saw the look on Darrel’s face and the way his eyes darted around the room. I think he was looking for a gun because of my comment.

“Oh, Henry,” Hannah said as she took Darrel’s arm in hers, interlocking them and leaning against him. “Why don’t you open a bottle of the good wine and pour Darrel and me a glass. We’ll be in the Master Suite. You can bring it to us there.”

I stared at Hannah like she’d lost her fucking mind. She kissed Darrel on the cheek and led him into the back part of the house toward our bedroom. I shook my head, then went to the kitchen. I found the cheapest, shittiest bottle of wine we had and opened it. I poured two large glasses, then looked up at the door to make sure they weren’t coming. I unzipped my pants and pulled out my dick. I rubbed it all over the rim of both glasses, then dipped it into the wine with a satisfied grin.

I laughed, then put my John Thomas away and poured the last of the Jim Beam into my glass. I had a hard time carrying all three drinks without spilling them, especially when an invisible person moved the hall door frame as I walked through, causing me to bump into it. When I entered the bedroom, I was surprised by how fast things were moving.

Hannah was at the edge of the bed, with her feet hanging down. She was lying on her back with her robe completely open, showing off her middle-aged Mom body. Darrel was a lot braver than I gave him credit for. The boy was on his knees eating Hannah’s newly shaved pussy like a man on a mission.

If I had thought that what she had told me earlier was some game or fantasy, this proved it. My wife was a lying, cheating bitch. She was naked with her legs spread as her co-worker ate her snatch. He definitely seemed to like doing it more than I did. I guess he didn’t get the memo either about what things a real man isn’t supposed to do.

I cleared my throat, and the boy jumped up, looking like he was on the verge of sprinting out the door. He covered his boner with his hands, trying to hide it, even though he was still fully dressed. Hannah sat up on her elbows and looked at me with a grin. “You took too long, so we got started,” she explained.

“Yeah, whatever,” I replied as I sat their drinks down on the table. Hannah sat up and picked up the wine glasses, handing one to Darrel.

Hannah beamed happily, raised her glass to me and said, “Here’s to my darling husband, Henry. Happy Birthday!”

Darrel grinned and lifted his glass. “Happy Birthday, bro,” he said.

I fake smiled and nodded. “Yeah, ok,” I said, twitching at being called ‘bro.’ I watched as they both raised their glasses to drink. “That wine is a great color purple, don’t you think?”

Darrel looked at it. “I guess so,” he said then took a big swig. I guess he wasn’t a Whoopie Goldberg fan.

Hannah drained her glass, then went on the assault. She stood up, threw her robe to the floor and started ripping Darrel’s clothes off. “I need some cock, and I don’t want to wait anymore,” she said, and she pulled his pants open and shoved them down. He hadn’t even taken his shoes off yet.

I mumbled something about how she had just had a taste of my cock, but nobody heard me. I walked over and hit record on the video camera. Hannah saw what I was doing and gave me a big smile. “Happy Birthday, honey,” she said into the camera lens as she pulled Darrel’s cock free. “This is for you!” She knelt and began to suck his dick. I repositioned the camera to catch every fucking frame of her betrayal.

I admit I took a good look at his dick. I wanted to see what the competition was packing. I have to tell you; I was underwhelmed. Darrel’s dick was smaller than mine in every category. That came as a bit of a shock. I figured if Hannah was so hot to trot, Darrel must have a cock like a horse. Not hardly.

I chuckled and plopped my ass down in a chair. I was going to watch. I wasn’t doing it to get turned on and jerk off like some wimpy-assed cuckold. I wanted to see why my wife was willing to throw away everything we had. It had better be the best fuck any woman ever had before.

She took his smaller penis into her mouth and sucked on it like a total whore. She grabbed Darrel by his ass and pulled him forward as she worked her mouth down to the base. That must be how she learned to take a cock in her throat. She’d never event tried to do that with me, which is why it surprised me so much when she did it earlier in the day. I guess it’s easier when it is that small. He was squealing like Ned Beatty in Deliverance. After only a minute or two Darrel stumbled back against the bed and screamed, “Fuck! I’m cumming!”

Well, hell. That didn’t take long. I knew Hannah was pretty good at sucking dick but come on. A virile, young stud like him should be able to outlast a beat-up old asshole like me. So far, this super lover was failing to impress.

Hannah moaned as Darrel shot his wad into her mouth. When he finished, she pulled off his cock and turned to look at me like I was supposed to be pleased or something. She opened her mouth to show me it was full of his cum. I nodded. Nice. Way to go. Slut.

She swallowed then opened her mouth again and stuck her tongue out. Did she think this was some kind of game on Survivor where you have to eat the bugs’ asses or something? I rolled my eyes and looked away in disgust. She got up and came over to me and leaned over my chair, her face close to mine. What the fuck was she doing?

“Kiss me, honey,” she moaned. Fuck! I could smell his sperm on her breath. I turned my head and grimaced.

“Get the fuck away from me!” I yelled. “I won’t kiss after you suck my dick. What the fuck makes you think I want to kiss you after you suck his?”

Hannah laughed, spun around and ran over to Darrel, throwing her arms around him and kissing him passionately on the mouth. He embraced her and kissed her back. I could see their tongues rolling around in each other’s mouths. I gagged and wanted to puke. Instead, I emptied the last bit of whiskey from my glass. I guess that’s where she got that idea, too. Fucking millennials.

Hannah broke away from Darrel and reclined on her back on our marital bed. She spread her legs and rubbed her bald cunt. “This is what you’ve been waiting for, Darrel,” she said as she slipped two fingers inside her wet twat. “Come and get it!”

Darrel sat down next to my wife. He watched her frigging her pussy but made no move to mount her. I couldn’t help, but notice his dick was shriveled up and about the size of my thumb. “I’m going to need a few minutes,” he said, stroking his limp dick, trying to bring it to life. “You sucked the cum all out of me. I need to make some more.”

I chuckled. Darrel heard me and fixed me with a dirty look.

“What are you laughing at, fat man?” Darrel snarled, frantically pulling on his flaccid pecker.

“I thought you were some kind of stud,” I said. “Looks more like a dud to me. You’ve been trying for months to get your dick in my wife’s pussy. Well, there it is. Fuck her already. We ain’t got all night.”

“I just came!” he snapped defending himself. “I need time to recover.”

“Is that what they taught you in college?” I asked, giggling. “Come on, big man, give it to her already.”

Hannah rolled over and took Darrel’s dick in her hand. “I got it, baby,” she said as she stroked him. “I’ll get you hard as a rock.”

She crawled over to him and took his limp dick back in her mouth and sucked on it while massaging his balls.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Darrel said, “show your cuckold of a husband what you do to my dick every day. Suck my cock, Hannah.”

Hannah moaned and sucked harder. Was that bitch getting off on him calling me a cuckold? I grew angrier and glanced over at where I had stashed my little folder. After I finished with them, we would see who was still laughing.

“Yeah, get my dick hard, and I’ll show him how a real man fucks your pussy,” Darrel said, looking at me smugly.

I shrugged. I felt rage building inside me and had to control myself and not go over there and wring Darrel’s fucking neck for touching my wife. I should beat his ass up one side and down the other. He’d get his comeuppance before this was all over, for sure. Just then Hannah moaned again, and I just shook my head and continued to watch her behave like the dirty slut I now knew she was.

The longer this farce went on, the angrier I got. How dare Hannah do this to me. To make it even worse, she had to do it fucking today of all days. She raised her head and said, “Oh, now that’s the way I like it.” She stroked his cock slowly. It looked like it was hard again now. She seemed pleased with herself. She grinned at me and rolled on her back spreading her legs.

“You ready to watch, Henry?” she asked, turning to me and winking, “This cock is about to be the first one other than yours in my pussy.”

“If you’re going to go through with this, just do it,” I said as I stood up and paced anxiously. “I don’t need to hear your lips flapping.”

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