The Sweetest Husband in the World

My husband, Sandy, is one of the nicest people on Earth. He doesn't have a single enemy. He cheerfully helps anyone he knows, anytime he is asked. His basement workshop has always been a friendly neighborhood hangout for the other husbands on our street.

Sandy is also a failure at everything, including our marriage. He has no particular talents, never learned a trade, and floats from job to job. Our bedroom is kind of a torture chamber for me because he won't leave me alone but never gives me an orgasm unless I literally take things into my own hands. He's always touching and cuddling, which would be sweet if there was ever a payoff for me, but there never is.

His almost-five-inch cock might be -- just barely -- up to the task, but it only ever gets "almost hard," never totally rigid. I've insisted that he eat me for a few minutes before climbing on, and he seems really to enjoy sucking my cunt before trying to fuck me. I always hope that he'll lick me long enough to bring me to climax, but he tires too quickly (big surprise. Not.) and soon tries intercourse.

I think Sandy's little dick is kind of evil, actually. It is just firm enough that he can get it in, wiggle it round and round and side to side, and get his own rocks off. But the little pink worm is never hard as stone, never stiff enough to push my clit around, or long enough to touch my G-spot. He always comes, and quickly, but I never do, until I stroke myself. But at least he squirts his little load in only two or three minutes and doesn't prolong my teasing. Soon after he's started he's done for the week and I can grab my vibrator and get myself off.

I've tried to get him to eat me after his orgasm, but he simply refuses to do "something that disgusting." I think he could give me an orgasm if he did, but he really digs in his heels and says licking his own cum would make him sick.

God, I'd rather he was impotent, or gay, and just left me alone in the bedroom. At first, I'd sneak into the bathroom to masturbate, but I soon discovered the pleasure of doing it right beside him. Let the little guy KNOW he wasn't a whole man, by having a loud, messy battery-powered dildo orgasm right next to his wimpy, Pillsbury Doughboy self.

Yeah, he's a soft and pudgy guy, and always was. I joke that as a boy, he was always chosen second-to-last by the stronger boys when they choose teams. Too clumsy to be selected early, but such a nice boy that he was never "The Last One."

There are two different kinds of wimp: the nice ones, like Sandy, who know their place in the masculine pecking order and seem at ease with themselves. They don't mess with the bigger boys, and they don't harass the cheerleaders. It would never occur to a guy like Sandy that a beautiful girl would be interested in him sexually, so he treats them all respectfully, like big sisters.

The other kind of wimp is - I can't resist the pun - a bit of a dick. He's never accepted the fact that he's not on the varsity team, so to speak, and he's always trying too hard. He comes on to all the girls as if he really has a chance to score, and treats girls badly when they turn him down. He's loud and self-centered, and never at ease in a group. He's the wimpy kid the other boys loathe, and he's the one chosen last.

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About a year ago I was really unhappy with my married life, and was toying with the idea of a divorce. Just toying, because I really love our three children, and couldn't imagine splitting up the family. They really love their Dad, too. And like I said, Sandy was really pleasant to be around most of the time. It was a drag always being among the poorer people in our neighborhood due to Sandy's poor earnings, but my part-time work kept our bills paid. So really, my divorce thoughts boiled down to the vague unhappiness of being married to a loser, and my unsatisfied sexual desires. Then Tom took over my pussy.

Tom is one of Sandy's friends from the neighborhood. Three or four guys seemed to gather in our basement every weekend. Sometimes they were all hanging in Sandy's workshop, talking woodworking or something, and other times they had the TV on and watched football games. They'd take turns coming upstairs every now and then to fetch another six-pack, or bag of chips.

Every one of them had, at one time or another, made a pass at me. I found their attention kind of nice, and had never discouraged their flirting. It was kind of fun to banter with them when it took the form of suggestive jokes, and I'd let a couple of them cop a feel once in a while before brushing their hand away with a smile.

The guys would tease and flirt right in front of Sandy, too. He just figured it was good-natured and harmless. He knew the guys liked him, and it never occurred to Sandy that I might actually cheat on him. Of the group, Tom always got the longest feels, and I think he knew that if I would ever spread for anyone other than Sandy, I'd spread for him sooner or later.

You see, there are two kinds of stud, too, just like there are two kinds of wimp.

The most masculine guys can sometimes be really comfortable with what nature has given them. They don't need to lord it over anybody else to be satisfied with themselves. They know that they are prime meat, and they don't find it all remarkable that some other guy is less manly.

But the other kind of macho man is all about being on the top of the pile. He's nasty and competitive. He gets his sense of accomplishment from putting other guys down, and getting women on their backs. Instead of being proud of what he has, he is contemptuous of what other men lack. If a woman has her head screwed on straight, she'll give these pricks a wide berth to avoid being used and discarded.

Tom was one of the nice studs, and one day he came upstairs during a game, walked up behind me in the kitchen, and put his hands on my hips as a kind of a half-joke, half- flirt. This time I didn't brush his hands away; I turned into his arms and allowed him to kiss me. He wasted no time; knowing he had to move quickly, Tom bent me over the dinette table, reached under my skirt, and pulled my panties to the side. For the first time since my wedding, I had a really hard cock inside me, and I was in heaven. Tom's cock was much longer and wider than Sandy's; one of the biggest I'd ever had. My pussy was absolutely drenched and on fire. We had quick and dirty sex standing up right there in the kitchen. I had one enormous orgasm, and might have had a second one if Tom had kept at it, but he came, too. He spun me back around, dropped to his knees, kissed the front of my crotch right through my now-soaked panties, and said, "I'll be back for more of this every chance you give me." And then he went back downstairs!

Like I said, a gentleman stud!

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In the next few months, Tom and I found frequent opportunities to fuck like rabbits. I was simply on fire for the man; I couldn't get enough of his terrific dick. At least once a weekend we'd reenact our first fuck; he would slip away from the group downstairs to rail my cunt somewhere upstairs. Other times, if Sandy and the kids were going to be out of the house for an hour, I'd send him a text, then I'd strip naked and jump into our bed. Within 10 minutes I'd hear Tom coming up the stairs, and he'd bring me one orgasm after another. His cock always felt like it was made of iron, and he rode me so hard that my pussy was actually sore when he was done.

I came to like riding him -- he'd lie on his back and I'd drop my cunt onto his ramrod and fuck myself silly while he mauled my breasts with his hands or mouth. When we fucked in an otherwise empty house, he always made time for some post-coital hugging and kissing before getting dressed and slipping out of the house.

Can you see why I stopped daydreaming about a divorce? I had it all now: a sweetheart of a hubby, and regular lover with a constant hard-on for me.

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Of course, it's when everything seems best that shit happens. In this case, the shit was named Jack. As in, Jack, one of the other guys who hung out in our basement. As in Jack, who figured out where Tom was going every time he snuck upstairs.

Jack was the other kind of stud, the kind who had something to prove. He decided to prove that he could fuck me, too, and Jack couldn't be bothered to ask nicely. He just showed up at my door one afternoon mid-week and told me he had something important to tell me. When he came inside, he threatened to tell Sandy what was going on if I didn't suck his cock right then and there.

I was thinking as fast as I could, given how rattled I was at the moment. There must be some way to wriggle out of this?

But while I was thinking, Jack was stripping, and once I saw his enormous nine-inch hardon I wasn't so sure I wanted to wriggle. Jack was at least an inch longer than Tom, and just as wide. He pushed down on my shoulders and I went to my knees with only a little resistance. The cocky son of a bitch even swung his cock back and forth to slap my cheeks a few times, and I soon lunged for his meat like I was starving.

The bad news is that something the size of Jack's erection won't fit in my mouth; unlike the women in porn stories, I can't take more than three or four inches of cock in my mouth without choking. The good news is that, after I told Jack to lie down on his back, I impaled myself on that fantastic dick of his and rode myself to the loudest, screamingest cum I'd ever had. Not even Tom had ever given me pleasure like Jack did that afternoon. He never got soft after his first ejaculation, and only needed 10 or 15 minutes to recover after his second. I just started coming over and over again non-stop, and by the time Jack ran out of cum we'd been down on that floor in one position after another for an hour and a half. Jack got off on calling me dirty names, and after the tenth time he told me I was a slut, or a whore, I started to enjoy the verbal abuse a little bit. Truth be told, I did feel like a slut, and I kind of liked it.

Oh, and yes, Jack was an arrogant jerk when he left, shaking the last few drops of cum off of the end of his cock while standing over me, and walking out of my house without so much as a "thank you".

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The next time the gang was at our house, Jack took me aside and told me that he was going to fuck me again that very day, right after Tom. Jack's exact words were: "I'll let Tom warm you up, but then I'm gonna tap your pussy hard."

And that's pretty much what happened: when Tom slipped back downstairs, Jack whispered "I know you're fucking her. I'll keep quiet, but now it's MY turn for that pussy. You keep Sandy busy while I'm upstairs or I'll rat you out to Sandy."

Jack came upstairs to find me wiping Tom's cum off my pussy with a paper towel. He picked me up in his arms, carried me upstairs to the first bedroom he found (my daughter's), and fucked me almost to death in her bed. Sweet clueless Sandy never knew.

The other thing that Sandy didn't know, for the longest time, is that I started to leave some of Tom or Jack's cum in my pussy before going to bed.

The first time it was kind of an accident -- Sandy wanted to go to bed before I had an opportunity to shower. He ate my pussy before trying to fuck me, just like he always had. But this night I was really getting off on the humiliation of feeding him Jack's cummy leftovers without his knowledge. It felt so fucking naughty that my husband would slurp his friends' cum out of my vagina! I started actually to enjoy it when Sandy initiated our once-a week lovemaking.

Maybe I was imagining things, but I think that Sandy's efforts to lick me to orgasm became more and more vigorous now that he was unknowingly cleaning up his friends' spunk. I'm not saying he got off on his own submission; I'm sure he didn't know what he was eating. It was probably just that my cunt tasted better with a creamy load of sperm inside! Also, I'd get so excited by the naughtiness of what I was doing to wimpy little Sandy that I would orgasm as soon as he finished sucking my cunt and entered me with his weedy little cock. So my new, real, orgasms made him think he was suddenly quite the stud.

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I know now that I really fucked up by telling all of this to Jack. But I told you before how delirious his big stiff cock made me. One late afternoon, after he'd screwed me half comatose, he got up to leave and said, insultingly of course, that my well-fucked cunt was so full of cum that Sandy would fall in and drown. Ha ha.

See what I mean about Jack needing to degrade other people?

But I never should have replied: "He'd like that. Sandy eats enough of your cum now, without knowing it, that he's gotten used to the taste. He probably doesn't remember what a clean pussy tastes like."

You know where this ends, right? Jack the dick can't resist humiliating Sandy somehow, so he waits until the next weekend get-together and hangs back after Tom and the other guys go home.

Downstairs, alone with Sandy, having fucked me twice less than an hour ago, Jack tells my husband some of what's been going on. He never mentions Tom -- I think he didn't want to share the stud glory. But he tells Sandy that he's been boning me regularly -- and tells him my pussy juice is all over his cock right now.

I'm upstairs and have no idea what's happening in the basement. I'm expecting Sandy to come up soon, now that all his friends have supposedly gone home. I'm wearing a loose T-shirt and nothing else, sitting on the toilet, and wiping Jack's cum from the outside of my pussy. I hope Sandy will come upstairs soon, because I can't wait to feed him his secret creamy Jack pie.

I go back to the bed and barely get seated when Sandy comes into the room. I can tell right away that something is wrong from the look on his face, but I have no idea yet what's bothering him. As Sandy reaches the bed, I see that Jack is in the hallway, looking in. Now I'm really lost -- what is happening? Why is Jack still here?

Sandy falls to his knees in front of me and I see that his eyes are teary. He mumbles again and again as he looks up into my face above him, "Is it true? Did you let Jack fuck you? Is it true?"

I'm speechless. What can I say? What does he know?

From the doorway Jack says, "Open her legs, stupid. Look at her filthy cunt, and then you tell me if you believe me or not".

I just stare at Jack, not believing that he is exposing our secret to my weak little husband.

Sandy very slowly did as Jack said, and opened my thighs in front of him. I lifted the T-shirt high on my chest so that I could see what Sandy was doing. It was obvious that my raw gaping pussy had been fucking something or someone, and a small pearl-colored drop of Jack's ejaculate drooled out between my cunt lips. Sandy sort of gasped, and his head jerked as if he's been slapped.

"Smell it, fuckhead!" said Jack, as he approached Sandy from behind. "Put your nose in there and tell me if it smells familiar to you."

I sat frozen in place on the edge of the bed, my pussy exposed to both men as Sandy's hands on my knees held me open for inspection.

"Take a whiff, you sissy! Smell what a real man smells like. Get your face in there..." and with that, Jack's hand comes surprisingly gently up behind Sandy's head and very slowly pushes his face into my steaming crotch.

My fear is slowly being replaced by lust as it becomes clear that Sandy is not going to explode, walk out, or hit me. He seems to shrink into himself, to become even smaller a man, as his nose touches my fiery clitoris.

My words burst from my chest: "Smell him in me, Sandy." I stroke his cheek as I croon over Sandy's bowed head. "Smell Jack's spunk. Lick me Sandy, lick me like you do so well, baby. I've been a bad girl...Jack left a mess, honey. It felt so good, but now I want you to make me clean again."

He does. I almost can't believe it, but my wimp of a cuckolded husband starts long-lapping my pussy, moaning quietly to himself between tastes. As I stare down at him in disbelief, I notice that his little pecker is hard and throbbing between his legs. He's excited by this. Treating him like a cumrag turns him on!

Jack wants a piece of Sandy's submission too, and backs up a bit to quickly step out of his pants. Then he steps forward to Sandy again, both of them between my trembling thighs. Jack returns his hand to the back of Sandy's head, and slowly turns Sandy's face away from my hole, towards his slimy, hardening cock.

"Smell your wife on my cock, Sandy. It's the same smell, isn't it? Smell a real man's cock, Sandy. Lick her pussy juice off of my big dick, you sissy. Your fucking whore wife loves my dick, Sandy. She sucks it all the time when you're not around. Smell her cum on my cock."

Sandy is almost frozen in place, his nose against Jack's beautiful long penis, his chest heaving, his nostrils flaring but his mouth not moving. His lips are sealed. Licking another man's cock is not something he's ever imagined himself doing. Then he inhales deeply, shudders, and opens his mouth a bit to take one small lick along the side of Jack's now erect monster. Then another lick, and then a third that goes all nine inches from one end to the other. The taste of my pussy on Jack's cock must have driven Sandy crazy, because within seconds, he has the first three inches of Jack's beautiful cock in his mouth, moving it around between his cheeks like it's his favorite toothbrush.

Jack held on to Sandy's head and slowly backed away from me and the bed. Sandy didn't break his lip-lock on Jack's penis for even a second, but crawled after Jack on his knees. As soon as there was room for me, I also slid off the bed and onto my own knees, on all fours right next to Sandy. I reached around his waist with my right arm and grabbed for his hard little cock with my left. My touch on his prick was all he needed, and he trembled in orgasm, shooting his own puny load on his upper thighs.

"He loves your cock, Jack. Sandy just shot his little load sucking your cock. I'm gonna have to share your cock with my sissy husband, Jack."

After a quick shower, we all fell into bed together and Jack spent the night at our house. Twice more Jack and I fucked up a storm, and each time Sandy cleaned us up while whimpering and moaning. The last time I once again stroked Sandy to a climax, while Jack taunted him for being a "fag" and a "sissy".

I fell asleep around midnight, after which Jack carried on without me. In bed next to me Sandy sucked Jack to his final orgasm of the day and greedily swallowed his load. I was awakened at about five a.m. by Sandy's screams when Jack, finally erect again, worked that magic dick of his into Sandy's little asshole. By this time they were both too fucked out to have an orgasm, but Jack had so much fun calling Sandy dirty names that I don't think it much mattered.

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Tom still fucks me once in a while, but not very often. He kind of lost interest in me. Jack couldn't resist bragging to Tom that Sandy and I are now both sluts to Jack's porn-sized cock. Tom is basically a nice guy, and he never set out just to fuck some easy slut whore. Now that I'm no longer the "model wife" he once knew, he pretty much stopped wanting to have sex with me.

When he does stop by, it is almost always to let Sandy suck his cock, something both of them have developed quite an appetite for. There was always a little bit of sissy inside of Sandy waiting to come out, but Tom is kind of a surprise. He's become quite the dominant top with Sandy. Nowadays when the gang gets together in the basement, there's no sneaking around. Jack and Tom just wait for the other guys to leave, and then split up to fuck Sandy and me separately.