Stranger at Our Halloween Party

Author's note: WARNING: this story is about cuckolding. If you do not like that kind of thing, this probably isn't for you. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy!

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I was putting on my costume for the night, a simple Michael Myers costume I had bought online. It came with the blue coveralls, mask, and even a fake knife. Paying the thirty dollars was the most effort I had put into a costume since I was a child. My wife had asked me to try this year, though, so I did. We were throwing our first Halloween party ever, and the preparation had taken over our lives. So many purchases, so much money. We saved money by making many of our own decorations, but it didn't save much, and it did cost a lot of time. Time was almost up, though; our guests would arrive in an hour, and we still had things to do.

"You look scary," My wife, Shelly, said as she walked in behind me.

She was dressed as a witch. A sexy witch. She had taken a black dress she didn't have anywhere to wear and cut the hem into strips, shortening it and giving it a raggedy look. She also had a witch's hat and an old broom to complete the outfit. No one would be paying attention to that, though. I swear that dress must have shrunk since I last saw her wear it.

My wife was of average height, but had a voluptuous build. She was not fat, but with her large breasts and wide hips she couldn't be described as skinny. Since butts had become the craze, she had been working hard at the gym to grow hers. That dress looked a little too small for her now. The tightness pushed up her large tits; it looked like it must be hard for her to breathe. The cuts she had made in the already short dress exposed her upper thighs when she moved. Black stockings hugged her legs. A little fat pushed out where they ended at her mid-thigh. She wore stylish black heels that made her taller and sexier.

She looked hot. She looked nothing like the middle-aged housewife she was; she looked like a model. Her long blonde hair and dark brown eyes gave her a soft, kind look. I wanted to pull up her dress and take her, right there. I wanted to fuck her so hard her tits fell out of her dress.

"You look sexy," I replied, stepping over to her, pulling her into my arms, and kissing her.

"Stop it," she said, laughing as she broke the kiss. "We don't have time."

"But you look so good," I said, pulling her back. "And it's been too long."

"That's not my fault," she said, sharply. Her tone was suddenly annoyed and angry. "You only want it when I'm doing something or going out."

"No -- that's not what -- come on," I said, stammering, taken aback by her tone. "I just meant you look good."

"Do I usually not?" she asked, still annoyed.

"No, you always look good," I said, trying to salvage the situation from possible sex to her not being angry at me. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry, I'm stressed, but we -- well, let's just get back to work. Are you ready?" she said, her tone softer.

"Yeah, let's get back to it," I said, relieved that we weren't fighting at least.

It hadn't always been this difficult. In our youth, we had made love like rabbits. A look or a touch was all it took to set us off. We had left countless parties early to enjoy each other. Sometimes we didn't even leave, just snuck off to a quiet part and did what needed to happen.

Not anymore; now initiating sex felt like a minefield. It wasn't just her fault, though. She was partially right about me not initiating. I just missed the excitement of our youth. I felt like the sex was always the same now. Nothing new or exciting, just the same thing every time. It made it hard to initiate. Especially when I was rejected so often. I was still a man, though, and when she looked good, like she did right now, I wanted her as bad as I did when we were twenty.

I followed her downstairs; our house was covered in Halloween decorations. Little plastic spiders were everywhere, fake cobwebs hung down haphazardly, and a life-sized skeleton sat on the couch. Drinks and food were already set out inside; we had waited until the last moment to set up the outside refreshments.

We quickly set up the outside refreshment table. We had always worked well together. It came naturally to us to think about what the other would do and how best to help. We may have lost our spark, but we still had that.

We walked around our house, inspecting and adjusting the decorations. We turned on the large inflatable pumpkin, and it slowly inflated. The Jack-o'-lanterns had their candles lit, the spooky lighting was on, and we'd made all the other minor adjustments to the decorations we had spent hours and hours on.

"Look," my wife said.

I stood on my tiptoes, adjusting the fastening on a cardboard ghost hanging off the porch roof. I turned and followed her pointing finger upwards. A shooting star was flashing over our heads. Its bright light streaked across the sky, leaving a fading trail.

"Make a wish," she continued.

"I wish I could get you out of that dress," I said, half-joking. Our guests were due to arrive any minute. I could probably work with that, though.

She laughed and hugged me. Her large breasts pushed into my chest. I looked down at her, and I felt like I could see every inch of them. We had been together fifteen years, and I still enjoyed the view. So soft, so big, so sensual.

"I wish we were having more sex too," she said quietly.

"I know," I said, kissing her on the forehead, "I feel like I haven't... like we haven't been on the same page recently. Sexually, I mean."

"It's not that, it's just... I don't know. Sometimes I feel like you aren't excited for me anymore."

"I'm always excited for you," I reassured her, a small white lie. "I just think I need it more often."

"Well, I'm trying," she said, her tone warning me she didn't like what I'd just said.

"I know," I rushed to say, trying to show her I heard her. "It just hasn't been happening a lot lately."

"Ok, well it takes two to tango," she said, still sounding annoyed.

"Right," I agreed wholeheartedly.

"So you're not satisfied?" She asked.

This question felt like a trap. I knew it was a trap, but a straight answer felt wrong. To say I was satisfied was a lie and could also lead to the same amount of sex. Saying I wasn't satisfied was truthful, but it could be rude. It could lead to more sex.

My hesitation was the worst possible answer.

"Ok, well I'm not satisfied either!" She snapped, going to storm off.

"Ok, ok, well, let's work on that," I said, following her.

"Work on what?" she asked, spinning around.

My mind went blank, so I answered truthfully.

"On making it more exciting?" I said, hopeful that was the right answer.

"You wish it were more exciting?" she asked, a dangerous note in her voice.

"And that it is more satisfying for you," I finished, less hopeful now.

Her eyes stared at me; her expression was hard, and she was unhappy with me. Her expression softened, and her eyes flicked away from me and towards the street.

"Hi guys!" She shouted, waving her hands at our first guests, "Come on in! You're the first ones."

Chris and Doris from a few doors down walked toward us, dressed as a cop and a robber. Not original, but it was hard to be original at our age. I waved too and walked over to help with the bottles they had been asked to bring. My apparently sexually frustrated wife and I helped them in and brought them refreshments as they oooed and awed over our decorations that they had definitely already seen.

Our surprisingly punctual guests started to arrive. One by one, in twos and small groups, they piled into our home. The drinks and casual conversation made the night a blur. The same conversation about the decorations, someone's costume, or the punch repeated again and again.

"Who's that?" Chris asked me, gesturing at someone across the room.

I followed his gesture to a tall, pale man standing near the front door. I did not recognize him. He was talking to Jane, from Shelly's book club. He wore dark clothing, like robes, but it didn't seem to be any recognizable costume. Jane did most of the talking while he stood there stoically, looking around the room and nodding politely to whatever Jane said. She could be a talker.

"I don't know," I said, "I guess he came with Jane."

"I didn't know she was dating anyone," Chris said.

"Me neither," I replied.

Shelly joined us then. She had lost her witch's hat and broom; now she wore only her short, black dress and stockings. The frills she had made at the bottom did most of the work, keeping her outfit a costume. Her heels clicked as she walked over. The frills moved, exposing her upper thighs, which the stockings didn't cover. Her tits had a slight bounce; I felt like they were going to fall out at some point tonight.

It occurred to me that my wife was dressed very revealingly, nearly exposed, around all of our friends. It gave me a strange feeling. I liked looking at her, but I was sure some of the other men would be too. I caught Chris taking a glance at her tits.

"Did you know Jane was dating someone?" I asked her.

"No, she's definitely not," she said, looking around for Jane. "We just talked about it."

"Then who's that?" Chris asked for the second time.

Shelly looked over at Jane and the tall stranger. She held her gaze there for a moment.

"No, I don't know what that is," she said. "He's definitely not with Jane."

"Do you think we have a crasher?" I asked, jokingly.

"It's not a party until someone crashes it," Chris said.

"Should I talk to him?" Shelly asked, "Like mess with him a little?"

"He probably just walked into the wrong party," I said.

"It could be funny though," she replied.

I shrugged. We had bought more than enough food and drink. I knew most of these people through Shelly, so the tall man was just another person I barely knew, drinking and eating in my house. It was probably easiest to just ask him to leave in my mind.

"You should do it," Chris said, encouraging her.

Shelly giggled and then made her way across the room. From behind, I could swear I could see a little bit of her ass as she moved. That dress was too short on her. Chris and I watched as she joined Jane and the tall stranger. Jane touched the stranger's arm as she approached. Watching that sent a funny feeling through me.

Chris and I watched as the three of them chatted. Shelly and Jane laughed several times loudly. Chris and I were watching silently. Whatever made them laugh hadn't reached us. I felt a little creepy watching them so closely, but I kept watching, studying the stranger.

His black hair made his white skin look even paler. He had hawkish features and a sharp jaw that barely moved as he talked. He had handsome features, I guess. He was a large man. I didn't realize how tall he was until he stepped closer to the doorframe. He was just a bit shorter than it. He had broad shoulders and a wide chest. He gave me an eerie feeling; something about him was off, otherworldly.

Shelly laughed and gave him a big hug, wrapping her arms around him, pulling him close, and pressing her ample chest against his side. The stranger smiled, a large, unnerving smile. I decided he was definitely weird. The trio walked away from their spot toward the kitchen.

"I wonder what's so funny," Chris said, annoying me.

I ignored his comment and followed them. Shelly was mixing drinks as I walked in. Jane was talking as usual, standing close to him. Their bodies almost touching. He nodded along to her words again, but he was staring at my wife. She was turned away from them, bent over the counter measuring out the drinks. I was sure he could see her ass if not her thong.

"Hi," I said, walking up quickly, "I'm Sean. I don't think we've met."

The stranger looked away from my wife and at me. He was much taller and bigger than me. It was a little intimidating. He looked at me with an uninterested stare, as if I were inconveniencing him.

"Hello," he said in a strange accent I couldn't place, maybe Eastern European, but something about it felt off.

"I was making us some martinis," Shelly said. "Would you like one?"

"Sure," I said, not breaking eye contact with the man who hadn't offered his name.

I stepped closer to my wife, touching her lower back intimately, and trying to pull her dress down a bit subtly. She looked back at me and gave me a stern look, but said nothing. I was intentionally touching her possessively and trying to return some modesty to her. I wasn't usually like this, but the stranger's look at her was hungry and lustful.

Jane resumed whatever she had been saying. She told a story about her study abroad from over a decade ago. We stood there politely listening and chatting. I kept catching the strange man looking at Shelly, her tits, her face; he wouldn't stop, no matter how many times I caught him.

Thankfully, Shelly and I had to move on to hosting duties. We refilled drinks and introduced people to each other. I made sure to stay near Shelly now. I was painfully aware of how much of her body she was revealing. It felt like every man we talked to stared at her shamelessly. I caught the strange man watching her several times. I don't know why we let him stay.

"Why are we letting him stay?" I asked Shelly.

"He's nice; besides, I think Jane likes him," she replied, refilling a bowl of chips.

"He didn't seem that friendly to me," I said, aware of how my tone sounded sulky.

"You just met him," she said.

"So did you."

"What is with you tonight?! You have been following me around like a child."

"I just... I don't know the dress, I mean, it's not even a costume anymore."

"What's wrong with my dress?" she asked; her tone was emotionless, but she looked at me expectantly, like my answer better be to her liking.

"It's just.. It's so revealing."

"You liked it earlier."

"That was before everyone else was here."

"Whatever," she said, spun around quickly, nearly tripped over her heels, gave me a look like it was somehow my fault, and walked away.

I followed her and kept following her for the rest of the night. It was a fun party. Truthfully, it was a relief that it was over. All the planning and prepping paid off, but it was hard to enjoy. When the first people said their goodbyes at midnight, I felt done. I was ready for the rest of the guests to leave. I was looking forward to going to bed and waking up to a fresh start with Shelly in the morning.

Slowly, too slowly, the guests started to leave. In the same ones, twos, and small groups they had come in, they departed. They thanked Shelly and me for the party, saying they couldn't wait until next year. I thought there wouldn't be a next year. I wondered if I could get Shelly to agree.

The last to leave was Jane. She stopped into the kitchen where Shelly and I were stuffing leftover food into the fridge. She looked upset.

"Bye, guys," she said, sniffling, "thanks for the party."

She then quickly left. Shelly and I looked at each other, confused. I stepped out after her, but all I saw was the front door slam shut.

"That was weird," I said to my wife in the kitchen.

"Yes, she is upset," the strange accent came from the couch.

I jumped a little since I hadn't realized he was there. I looked over at the man calmly sitting on the couch. We stared at each other for a moment.

"Do you know why she's upset?" I asked, not sure what else to say.

"She asked me to go home with her, and I said no," he replied flatly, with no emotion or sympathy.

"Ah," I said awkwardly, "Why not?"

"That's not why I'm here."

"Right, makes sense," I said. It didn't. "Speaking of, we're actually wrapping up the party."

"I see," he replied, still without tone or emotion.

I stood there, unsure of how to get this weird man out of my house. I had no intention of fighting, but couldn't he see he'd overstayed his welcome? He must have known by now if he had been at the wrong party. Was he planning on staying here? He better not be.

"Yeah, thanks for coming, but I think we are going to need you to leave now," I said, as firm as I could.

"But I should help you clean up; it would be rude not to," he replied, smiling. He stood up and started picking up discarded cups as he walked towards me.

"We'll take care of it in the morning; I'm pretty tired right now. It'll be fine overnight," I said, letting annoyance creep into my tone.

"Ah, you are so tired. Here, rest for a few minutes, then everything will be as you wished," he said, smiling even wider.

"I--," I began to protest when he touched my forehead.

"Sleep!" he said forcibly.

My eyelids grew heavy, and my knees gave out. I felt myself falling, but I was asleep before I hit the floor.

I awoke on the couch. I wasn't sure how I had gotten there. I sat up and looked around. Only the kitchen light was on now; it cast an eerie partial light into the room. The room had been completely cleaned. There was no evidence of the cups and trash that our guests had left behind. I walked into the kitchen and found it cleaned too. The dirty dishes were no longer in the sink, and the drinks were put away. The whole place was spotless.

I checked the clock; it was 3 am. I must have fallen asleep for over an hour, but how did I sleep through all the cleaning noise? I remembered the stranger who hadn't wanted to leave. And where was Shelly? Had she done all of this? Or had he?

I made my way upstairs to look for Shelly; maybe she had gone to sleep and left me on the couch so she wouldn't disturb me. At the top of the stairs, I saw a light down the hall toward my bedroom. I tiptoed down the dark hall. I heard a wet noise that grew louder as I approached.

I reached the doorway and looked inside. My heart dropped at what I saw. My beautiful wife was kneeling on the floor, the top of her dress pulled down, exposing her large breasts. Usually a beautiful sight, but my wife was kneeling in front of the tall stranger. His pants were around his ankles, and his cock was in my wife's mouth. She was sucking him eagerly and enthusiastically. Her mouth slid up and down on his dick as she looked up at him. Her exposed tits were propped up slightly by the dress, and they were bobbing up and down at her exaggerated motion.

My wife's hands were on his exposed, unnaturally white thighs, holding herself in place and giving herself leverage. His hands were on the back of her head. Holding her blonde hair back as she sucked him off. I could see his cock was long and thick from the glimpses I saw of it before it disappeared into my wife's mouth. He was much bigger than me.

With a loud gasp, my wife pulled the dick from her mouth. She panted, catching her breath. Her ample chest was heaving. She moved one hand from his thigh to his shaft and stroked him. She looked up at him, looking for his approval for her efforts to pleasure him.

"You're very good at that," he said in his weird accent.

Neither of them had noticed me. I wasn't sure what to do; should I yell? Should I attack him? Should I attack Shelly? Should I leave? My fight-or-flight response seemed to have chosen freeze. So I stood there, unable to rip my eyes away as my wife brought his tip back into her mouth. She slowed, focusing on his tip, sucking it deeply and intently as she stroked his shaft.

The stranger noticed me and kept going as she pleasured him. He smiled at me but said nothing. He shifted slightly so I could see my wife serving him better. She followed the movement without looking around. She forced her mouth down his shaft slowly until her nose met his stomach. She looked up at him with his cock down her throat. She gagged loudly, but held herself there.

"Very good," he said.

My wife pulled back from the base of his dick again, gasping for air. Her lipstick and spit were covering his cock.

"Are you wet?" he asked her.

"Yes," she said without hesitation.

"Stand up," he said, pulling her to her feet.

He led my wife to our bed, bending her over it. She spread her legs wide and planted her heels in the carpet, eagerly preparing her body for what was about to happen. The stranger positioned himself behind her, blocking my view of her. I stepped into the room. I don't know why, but I wanted to keep watching.

The stranger pulled up my wife's dress, tossing the little extra material over her back. Her ass and thong were exposed. He pulled the thong down to her ankles and helped her step out of it. Her bare pussy was now exposed to him.

"Please, go slow," my wife begged the large dick man, "You're so big."

"I won't hurt you," he reassured my exposed wife.

He placed one hand on my wife's hip, pinning her in place. With the other, he took his cock and brought it to her entrance. She gasped as his tip met her opening. He placed both hands on her hips and started to move his hips slowly forward, penetrating my wife with his manhood. She moaned as he inserted himself into her. She moved away from him slightly, but he pulled her back by the hips.

He kept going, forcing himself further into her. She groaned with every inch. When she took most of it, he stopped and began to pull out, still slowly. My wife was gripping the sheets with both hands, her knuckles white. The stranger pushed back in, slightly faster this time. He repeated this, not giving her his entire length but moving into her faster each time.

I became aware that I was fully erect, watching my wife warm up to another man's cock. I was painfully hard; I couldn't remember ever being this hard before. I didn't know how to react, so I just kept watching.

He was moving his cock into my wife faster now, giving her a little more of his length every stroke. My beautiful bride buried her face in our sheets, moaning loudly as she was fucked on our marital bed. I heard the wet slap of skin on skin as the man fucking my wife buried his dick completely in her. He pulled it out halfway and thrust it back into her. Hard.

"Oh, fuck!" my wife cried, her voice muffled by our comforter.

Her heels were still firmly planted in the carpet. Her long legs spread wide to allow him access to her. Her short black dress was flipped over her lower back, her bare ass exposed. She was bent at the hips, making a right angle with her torso pressed into the bed.

The man reached down and grabbed her long blonde hair with both hands, fashioning it into a makeshift ponytail. He held it with one hand and pulled. The force brought her face out of the sheets and up towards the ceiling. I could see that her eyes were closed, her mouth was open, and she was breathing heavily between moans.

"Ahh," my wife groaned in pain from his motion. He held her there, ignoring her sound.

The stranger had increased the speed and ferocity of his strokes. He was forcing his cock in and out of my wife, pounding her pussy now. He used his free hand to slap her ass. He repeated the motion, slapping her, pulling her hair, all while keeping his cock moving rhythmically.

I watched in awe. My beautiful wife was taking a much larger cock with ease and enjoying it. I had never seen her this way. Their sex seemed easy, unforced. Their bodies were in tune with each other. No unnecessary words or checking. Just eliciting pleasure from each other's bodies. It was hot. I was erect, but unsure of what to do. So I watched.

My wife's firm ass was jiggled with each stroke. She was moaning loudly, animalistically. Sounds I had never heard from her. Every thrust made her louder. Her eyes were closed; she still had not noticed that I was watching her illicit lovemaking.

"Right there," she moaned, "right there, please, I'm going to cum."

Those words almost made me cum in my pants. It was so erotic to hear those words from my wife. Words I had always wanted to hear from her every time we had sex, but rarely did.

The stranger rewarded my wife's words with a hard slap on her bare ass and a pull of her hair. She moaned in response to the abuse. Her ass had become red from the slaps. She was gripping the sheets, pulling them unconsciously in response to the pleasure being fucked into her.

"I'm cumming!" she screamed, her head pulled all the way back by her hair.

I could see her muscles spasm. The stranger let go of her hair, and she buried her face into our bed. She pounded the bed with one hand as the orgasm given to her by a man she had met only hours ago coursed through her. The stranger slowed, but did not stop his thrusts into her, fucking her through it.

When her spasms slowed, the stranger grabbed her by both arms and pulled her upright, his cock still buried in her. She was standing ass to his groin, her arms pulled behind her, forcing her tits out. Her dress was pulled down to expose her tits and up to expose her ass. She hung her head, her blonde hair covering her face. Her ample bosom heaving from the intense lovemaking.

He adjusted his position from behind her so that he could continue to move his hips. Lowering himself so he could force his cock up into my standing wife. She did not resist the motion, standing there in her heels, legs spread, she allowed him to continue his assault on our marriage.

He was moving his girthy cock in and out of her forcibly and quickly, jackhammering her pussy. Every powerful thrust caused her tits to bounce in an exaggerated motion. Her arms pulled back, forcing her large breasts further out. She was pushing herself back into him, trying to take every inch. Her heart-shaped ass pushed back into his groin.

"You're soooo deep," my wife groaned in amazement.

They showed no signs of stopping or slowing down their furious lovemaking. I didn't want them to. Their sexual show felt like a performance put on just for me. Both actors were playing their parts. I sat down in a chair across the room, never taking my eyes off of my wife and her new lover as he took her from behind.

The stranger released his grasp of my wife's arms and pulled out of her. He turned her around and pushed her onto the bed. Her ass was on the edge of the bed. My wife opened her legs and raised them, allowing this man easy access to her. He stepped between her, reinserting himself into her pussy. She placed her ankles on his shoulders, her long legs running up his torso, her heels by his ears. He put one hand around her throat; with the other he roughly grabbed an exposed breast.

He resumed his rhythmic, rough fucking of my wife's pussy. She moaned as his cock disappeared into her. She was holding the muscular forearm of the hand that was choking her; her other hand was on her tit, holding it in place so it wouldn't bounce from the hard thrusts she was taking.

I was breathing heavily from the excitement of watching them. I couldn't take it anymore; I pulled down my pants and pulled out my smaller dick. I spat on my hand and started to jerk off to the sight of my wife being fucked by a bigger cock.

The stranger grunted loudly with the effort he put into my wife. She was moaning, basically screaming sounds of pleasure. Their bodies made a wet slapping sound every time he thrust his cock inside, their thighs meeting before he pulled them apart.

"You're going to make me cum," my wife said in a high-pitched squeal.

"Don't cum yet," he ordered her, "Not until I say."

He moved his hands to either side of her torso, leaning further over her to gain leverage. My wife was bent into an odd shape, her knees almost touching her bouncing exposed breasts. She screamed out in pleasure from the first more powerful stroke from this position. Her hands flailed outward, looking for something to ground herself. I could see that he was pulling almost all the way out of her, leaving only the tip inside before forcing the rest of his length back in until the base of his cock met her opening.

"Your married pussy feels so fucking wet," he groaned to her.

"Ohhh," my wife could only moan in response.

"Hold it back," he told her.

Her hands gripped the sheets again, holding them tight. His powerful cock was fucking her hard and fast. Pleasure was being forced into her. I could see her face now; she was squeezing her eyes shut, trying to hold back her orgasm.

"Your husband isn't this big, is he?" He asked.

"Uh-uh," my wife said, moaning as she shook her head no.

"He doesn't fuck you like this, does he?"

"No!" she said, her voice strained with the effort of trying not to cum. "Please, please let me cum!"

"You want to cum?"

"Yesss, please, PLEASE, I want to cum all over your hard dick!" She was begging him, desperation in her voice.

"You want your husband to watch you cum all over me?"

She shook her head no. I was jerking off furiously. The sight and sounds were too much, too hot, too erotic. I was also close to orgasm.

"Say yes," he ordered.

"Yes," she said timidly.

"Say the whole thing," he commanded.

"I want my Husband. To watch. Me cum. On your. Big dick!" she moaned, every powerful stroke forcing a pause in her sentence.

"Good girl, go ahead and cum," he said, "And look over there."

He pointed her head over towards me. My wife's eyes opened and widened in surprise. I guess she hadn't expected to see me watching her make love to him, much less pleasuring myself to it. She saw me sitting on our chair, my pants around my ankles, jerking off to her making love to another man. We held eye contact, her head moving slightly with every stroke. Neither of us said anything. I didn't know what to say.

My wife cried out and arched her back. Her legs spasmed as she orgasmed. She thrashed around under him, the throes of her powerful orgasm causing her to lose control of her muscles. Once again, the stranger slowed his strokes, but still fucked her through it.

The sight of my wife, exposed, a stranger thrusting on top of her, and her orgasming underneath him was too much. I stretched my legs and groaned. I shot my load over my pants, not caring where it went. The stranger looked over at me as I came. He smirked but didn't stop his efforts inside my wife.

As her orgasm subsided, my wife wrapped her legs and arms around his powerful torso, holding onto him. With a grunt, he lifted her off the bed. He stood over the bed, my wife still wrapped around him, completely in the air. He grabbed her by the ass and started to ride her up and down his stiff shaft. Her back was facing me, so I had a great view of her ass moving on his cock. He was so unbelievably long and girthy, I couldn't believe she could take all of him.

My wife unwrapped her legs from his torso and spread them to his sides. Widening the space the man had to enter her so more of his manhood could go into her. Her heels were bouncing every time she was pulled off his cock and forced back onto it.

The stranger looked at me again; he smiled. He shuffled his feet and turned around, taking away my view of her ass and his groin meeting. Now I saw his back, and my wife's face pushed into his shoulder, her arms wrapped around his large neck. Her eyes were closed and her mouth open. She was gripping him tightly; her legs were bouncing with every stroke. The stranger's well-muscled back flexed as she moved in the air.

I had already had my orgasm; my wife had two already, but they showed no signs of stopping. The post-nut clarity hit me hard. I wasn't sure how this would end, but it wouldn't end until he was done with her. I didn't know what to do. I sat there still watching, no longer jerking off but entranced by the sight of their bodies meeting. She and I made eye contact, holding it as she was moved back and forth on his manhood. As the stranger used her pussy for pleasure, pounding her deep and hard. She broke our eye contact when her eyes rolled back.

My wife buried her face into his shoulder and screamed in pleasure. She didn't say anything, but her bouncing legs started trembling again.

"Fuck, it feels good when you cum on my dick," he said, not slowing down.

My wife could only whimper in response.

"Come here," he said.

He lowered her gently to the floor. She stood unsteadily in her heels, trembling from her orgasm. The stranger sat his naked butt on the edge of my bed and spread his legs. He guided my wife to him by holding her hips. He pulled her dress off of her; she was now naked except for her heels and stockings. Her bare ass pushed out, tits hanging freely, completely exposed to this man.

He pulled her into a deep kiss. Their bodies were close and entwined, her big tits pressed into his broad chest. He moved his hands over her body, groping her ass, feeling her tits, touching her smooth skin. They were making out passionately, lips locked and low groans of pleasure coming from each other. My wife's hand had dropped down to his cock and stroked him.

She put a knee on the bed next to him and raised herself until she could put her other knee on his other side. His hands helped her up, resting on her hips. She reached down and took the base of his cock and guided it back to her opening. She lowered herself down on him, taking every inch of his massive cock in her soaking pussy.

She moaned at his penetration. The stranger took one of her nipples in his mouth and sucked it as she started to ride him. She moved herself up and down on his stiff manhood. She threw her head back and groaned. She gripped his shoulders, helped herself up, then slid back down.

I couldn't take my eyes off of her red ass, swallowing his cock with every bounce. Her moaning was so erotic. Her nakedness was the hottest thing I'd ever seen. The stranger switched nipples, sucking intently. She was riding for her life, like a professional, naked, exposed, her breasts pushed into a stranger's face, his spit on her tits.

I stood up. I wanted a better view. The stranger removed my wife's nipple from his mouth and smiled.

"I think he wants a better view of you," he said to my wife as if I wasn't there.

He lifted her off of his cock and put her heels on the floor. He spun her around and bent her over. Her ass facing his dick and her front towards me. He gave her butt a hard slap and pulled her back onto him. Forcing his cock into her with no gentleness or pretense. Burying it down to the base.

"Fuck!" my wife cried out.

Most of her weight was back on him; she was sitting in his lap. She found his knees with her hands and put her heels together in front of him. His hands found her ass, and he helped her raise on his cock. She leaned forward, helping his manhood slip out of her with the intention of slamming it back into her.

She looked up at me as he was almost out of her. We held eye contact as she dropped back down, her eyes rolling back. She was using all of the leverage she could get from her arms and legs to bounce her ass on his cock. Her tits were slapping against her chest, every thrust into her causing them to bounce uncontrollably.

She was moaning so loudly, her eyes closed again as she focused all her attention on riding his manhood to pleasure. The stranger was fondling her bouncing ass, watching her take him.

"Tell him how it feels," he ordered my wife.

"It's so deep," she moaned. She was panting, taking deep breaths to get oxygen into her so she could keep going.

"He's stretching me," she continued, "it feels so good."

"She's so wet," he said.

"I'm so wet," she groaned.

"What are you doing?" he demanded of her.

"I'm bouncing. On your big dickkkkk," she moaned.

She moaned as he grabbed her ass and took control of the speed and force of riding. He forced her up and down at an incredible pace. Her ass made a slapping noise every time it met his thighs.

"Oh fuck, he's fucking me sooo hard," she moaned at the new pace.

She grabbed her massive swinging tits to try and hold them in place. Leaning more forward to make his job easier. Her ass bobbed up and down on his manhood.

"He's going to make me cum," she screamed.

After a few more strokes, her powerful orgasm began. She fell forward off of his cock and onto the ground. Her back arched, and her muscles spasmed as the orgasm took control of her. Her legs shook so hard I grew concerned. Her new lover was not.

He stood up and stood over her, his massive cock stretching over her. My exposed, well-fucked wife pulled herself up and knelt subserviently in front of her new lover and looked up, waiting to do what was asked of her. He was stroking his cock, clearly close to orgasm. He pushed the top towards her mouth, and she opened it, welcoming his cock that was coated in her spit and wetness.

She bobbed her head only a few times before he let out a loud groan and began to cum. My wife tried to hold his pumping cock in her mouth, but she gagged and had to pull back. I could see his white cum in her mouth; there was so much of it. It spilled out of her mouth; strands ran down her chin. His powerful cock was still pumping out semen; ropes shot over my wife's face and tits, covering her with her seed in front of her husband.

She stroked his cock, helping him pump out every drop of cum onto her. She was breathing heavily, panting; her tits, covered in his semen, were heaving. I watched as she struggled to swallow the cum already in her mouth. She opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, showing him it was down her throat now.

"Good girl," he said, "clean me off now."

He pushed his cock back at her cum-covered face. She started to lick, cleaning his cum and her wetness off of him. She went at it eagerly, wanting to please him. When he was satisfied, he pulled himself back from her. He looked back at me and grinned.

"How does she look?" he asked me.

My wife lay exhausted on the floor. Her bare ass and well-fucked pussy exposed. Her stocking-covered legs were trembling. Her large, exposed breasts heaving. She was covered in cum, her face, her tits. It was all over her. She was not even trying to cover herself or make herself decent; she was enjoying the comedown of the wild fuck.

"She looks incredible," I replied awestruck.

"Too bad you already came," he said, grabbing his clothes strewn about my bedroom floor. "I got her nice and wet for you."

I regretted not being able to hold back my orgasm. I would have loved to go and take my wife right now. To feel her stretched pussy, to look into her eyes as I was inside her.

The stranger was getting dressed now, ignoring my wife and me. I walked over to her and sat beside her. She looked up at me, her eyes searching me for a reaction.

"What... What happened?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" she replied, sounding tired.

"How did... Why did..." I gestured around the room, trying to indicate I wanted to know why and how my wife had just taken a new lover in our bedroom.

"You were sleeping, and he was helping me clean," she said. "And... I don't know, it was like he knew everything I wanted to hear, what I needed to hear. We were laughing and then... he kissed me. And I kissed him. Then he asked me to come upstairs... and I did."

I nodded; I wasn't sure what to say. I knew she had enjoyed it, that it had been better than any of the sex we had recently, maybe ever. That was very clear from her reactions to his fucking.

"You jerked off," she said. Not a question, a statement.

"Yeah, it was... hot," I answered.

"You liked watching me?" she asked.

I nodded yes. The admission felt great and freeing. I enjoyed watching my wife fuck another man. To cum on another man's cock. It was erotic.

"Would you... want to do it again?" I asked.

She nodded yes.

I turned to talk to the man, not sure what to say, but I wanted to ask if he would come back. Or if we could get his number. But he was gone. His clothes and everything were gone.

I helped her clean herself up and change into PJs. She fell asleep in the bed she was fucked on almost immediately. The room stank of sex. I checked downstairs, but the door was locked, and there was still no sign of the stranger. I went back into our bedroom to my satisfied wife. This night had certainly been exciting. As I fell asleep next to my wife, I was asking myself how we could do this again. When could I watch her be pounded by another man next?