Please, Can I Touch It? Ch. 02

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I look at the allegedly straight tourist, his cheek sticky and shiny where he wiped off my excess cum before licking it off his fingers, and ask, “Your wife ever let you fuck her ass?”

The more rulebound amongst us might consider it a breach of etiquette to not address him by name, but my ostensibly reprehensible behavior might be excused because we didn’t quite get around to exchanging names before the … festivities … unexpectedly escalated. And by “festivities” I mean, “he only wanted to touch my cock, and I just wanted a blowjob, and we compromised on me shooting so much cum in his mouth that he couldn’t swallow it all.”

Or, if you want it described from a more feminine perspective, “He had marital difficulties from his failure to empathize with his wife’s perspective on what constitutes romance and seduction. And so we used role playing so he could experience first hand his wife’s POV when orally pleasing the man she loved, but felt emotionally estranged from.”

And yes, that sounds like a completely bullshit rationalization of him cheating on her, but it’s actually a reasonably accurate portrayal of recent events, albeit missing some of the more graphic and physical aspects of his emotional education.

But I digress. Take two. Interior, mid-range hotel room in Waikiki, laying on the bed, me naked below the waist, him wearing a moderately loud Hawaiian shirt and black Calvin Klein underwear. Scene!

I imagine the clack of that clipboard they show in movie outtakes, even though it’s real life and I’m this nerdy hot smart guy whose head just won’t shut the fuck up with the interior monologue already:

“Your wife ever let you fuck her ass?”

He looks at me with his green eyes, with golden flecks in his irises that match the sunlight reflecting off the tiny blond hairs on his muscular but lean forearms. He languidly says with a hint of a Southern drawl, “I’m not gonna let you fuck my ass. That’s going too far.”

I feel my penis stiffen a bit when he says, “fuck my ass”. My dick only understands strong action words.

He stares at that stiffening, his eyes narrowing.

“No, I mean literally. Have you ever fucked her ass?”

“Yeah, once.”

“Why only once.”

“She said it hurt too much. Says I’m too rough.”

“What did you do, just try to jam it in?”

“Well … sorta. Maybe. I was excited. I was fucking her doggy, and when I switched holes she started making these squeaky porn noises, like she was into it. Then she did that thing where she was butthurt for like a week afterwards because I didn’t read her mind. She coulda said ‘no’. Just one word. Instead I get a whole week of ‘we need to talk’ and ‘why don’t you listen to my needs?’ “

“Soo … did you?”

“What?”

“Did. You. Listen … to her needs?”

He just stares at me, like I’m trying to explain particle physics to a Corgi.

“Porn ain’t real life,” I say. “Porn is usually written by guys who are, like, emotionally stunted. Women need to feel special, not like some Stepford Wives fuck doll that has to say yes to your every perverted whim.”

He sighs. “I know. I just don’t know what the fuck she wants sometimes. Do you and your wife get each other?”

“Mostly. If she starts making unhappy noises because I did something stupid or clueless, I make her laugh.”

“I wish I could do that with my wife. We argue a lot about pointless shit.”

“You just gotta get inside her head, understand what she’s feeling. Tell you what, let’s role play again. You’re her, OK? And I’m you, but … you know …” I wave my hand vaguely, to indicate a massive increase in having game and good objection management skills.

He gives me this wary look. “No anal. Promise?”

“I promise I won’t stick it in you.”

He nods. “K.”

“OK, lay on your stomach, head on the pillow. Having a romantic evening, wined and dined, I gave you a thoughtful card with hearts and shit on it … you’re all wet and receptive.”

“Mm-hmm,” my faux wife mutters into the pillow, ‘her’ eyes closed.

I straddle her legs, my semi-erect cock nestled between her muscular upper thighs. I massage her back through the Hawaiian shirt while she sighs softly. I lean down and kiss her neck and then an earlobe. I whisper in my best deep bedroom voice, “Hey, beautiful. You’re such a sexy wife.”

“Mmm. Feels so good. Rub my back some more.”

I slip my hand under her shirt, do her lower back and sides, mostly rubbing but sliding my nails along her skin at unpredictable intervals.

“Hey. That tickles.”

“More?”

“Yeah.”

I pendik escort bayan tease my way to her shoulder blades, massaging them deeply, then lean forward and lay on top of her while my hands slide and massage down her outstretched arms, all the way to her fingertips. I’m rubbing her palms and she’s squirming a bit with pleasure, my weight fully on her, my cock fully erect and poking at her underwear, pushing at the cleft of her buns.

She turns her head sideways to look me in the eyes. “Hey.”

“Hmmm?”

“Don’t get any ideas, buster.”

“Can I help it if my wife’s sexy body gets me hard?” I murmur into her ear, planting soft kisses along the outside of the lobe.

“You know what happened last time you did this.”

“I won’t do … that. I promise.” I start kneading back up her arms, easing my weight off her in the process, but my cock pressing harder against her butt.

“Hey! You have a funny way of proving that.”

I sit up so I’m straddling her upper thighs again. “Is it OK to rub it against your pussy, baby?”

“Just there. Not … you know.”

“OK. Can I take your panties off?” I say, already tugging them part way down her firm buns.

She reaches back and lightly slaps my tugging hands. “You gotta do exactly what I say, be a good husband.”

“You’re the boss,” I whisper. “Can I slide your panties off and rub your pussy, baby? It’ll feel so good.”

“Since you ask nicely.”

I slide down her legs and off the bed, standing up. I lean over and place light pressure on the elastic waist of her panties with one hand, not quite tugging, waiting for permission. My other hand oh so quietly unsnaps the lid of the tube of lube on the night stand beside the bed.

She arches her butt up a bit while keeping her legs pressed together, giving me her assent.

I lean over and put my other hand on the waistline of the panties and start slowly pulling them down over her butt, kissing both sides and every bit of the skin as it becomes exposed. I feel her butt quiver, and she gives a soft sigh as I keep kissing and pulling her panties down her legs, a trail of kisses marking the route, until they slide past the tips of her toes and I drop them on the floor.

She’s looking over her shoulder at me again. “Does my … husband … like the view?” She says ‘husband’ tentatively, like she’s a bit apprehensive about submerging herself in her role and being so submissive, even though she’s actually in control.

“God, yes. You’ve got a sexy butt. Can I rub a bit of lube between your thighs, baby?”

She narrows her eyes. “I thought we …”

“No, no. Not that. Trust me.”

She gives me a ‘Hmm, Does He Really Mean That’ look.

I raise my eyebrows, give her my most sincere gaze. “I promised. Do you trust me?”

“OK, baby. I trust you.” It’s the kind of trust where she keeps watching, apparently.

I rub some lube between her upper thighs and into the cleft, then pause. “Can I rub some on your clit, sexy?”

She looks puzzled, processing what I mean by that.

“Please, can I touch it?” I slide a well lubed hand deeper into her cleft, until my wrist is between her slightly parted thighs, my palm cupping her ‘labia’, and my index finger is lightly touching the base of her hardening shaft.

“Oh. That. Yes … yes, please.”

I start trailing my finger up her big ‘clit’, until the tip of my index finger is rubbing the sensitive underside of the head, and my palm and other fingers are clasping and gently squeezing her by now rigid shaft.

She groans and turns her face toward the pillow, no longer needing to watch me now that my intent is clear. Her hips are quivering and bucking up at me as I massage her crotch.

“Oh, fuck,” she says. “Slow down, baby. I don’t want to cum yet.”

I tease her by slowing down but still stroking, dragging her close the edge of an orgasm, edging her.

“No, stop rubbing. Not yet. Please.”

My hand freezes. I can feel the shaft pulsing a bit as she struggles to maintain control, keep from going over the edge. I start sliding my hand out of the cleft of her thighs, then my slippery thumb slides oh so carefully to the patch of skin between her ‘labia’ and her hole, rubbing.

“You promised,” she says. “You promised you wouldn’t fuck me there.”

“I just want to touch it. I promise I won’t go inside. It’ll feel so good.”

She thinks it over. “OK. Touch me.”

I slip my thumb between the cleft of her tight buns and over the hole, circling it.

“Oh, my fucking god. That feels maltepe escort soo good. Aaaah.”

“Told you, baby. You gotta trust your husband.”

“Aaaah, don’t stop. Oh, wait. Stop, or I’ll cum. Please.”

I pull my hand out and climb back onto the bed, straddling her thighs. “Can I rub it between your thighs? Do you want to give that to your husband?”

She wiggles her buns invitingly.

She gasps as my cockhead starts pressing between her thighs, the shaft sinking in until it bumps up against the base of her ‘labia’.

“Can I fuck you like this, baby? Can I fuck your thighs?”

“Fuck me.”

I squirt some more lube in that lovely muscular cleft and lay on top of her, slowly thighfucking her. She grunts and moans as my cockhead presses against the base of her ‘labia’, stopped by the balls inside.

“Do you want me to fuck you faster?”

“God, yes.”

I thrust in the cleft, faster and faster. She’s grunting and sighing and thrusting her ass up to meet my strokes. I stop.

“Don’t stop!”

“Is it OK if I rub it against your hole, sexy? It’ll feel really good.”

“I … you …”

“I won’t push inside. I promised.”

She jiggles and arches her butt at me, consenting.

I drizzle lube between the cleft of her buns then lay my full weight on top of her, teasing her, my cock slipping between her buns but just missing the hole with each thrust.

She thrusts and raises her butt towards me, trying to get her hole touched by my cockhead.

“I don’t know, baby,” I say. “Maybe I should stop.”

“What!”

“I don’t want to give in to temptation. It’ll be so hard.”

“I trust you. You promised.”

I sink my shaft deeper between her buns, and my cockhead drags past her hole,

“Aaaah,” she says as we hump our bodies together. “Oh, fuck. Rub it. Rub my asshole. Please, please.”

I reach between our bodies and guide my cockhead, rimming her hole, tapping it lightly, keeping my promise. I center it on her hole and take my hand out, then hold still while laying on her, my cock pressing lightly against the sweet pucker, oh so tempting.

“Fucking don’t stop!”

“You’re in control,” I whisper in her ear. “I won’t push inside. I’m keeping my promise.”

She pants and pushes back and thrusts her ass at me, but I move my hips in sync with her so my cock stays outside, but rubbing against her hole. I’m panting for breath, my blood singing with the sweet temptation to give in, to sink inside …”

After a minute or so of this, her thrusting back at me and me resisting, she says, “Hold still.”

I freeze.

“Put all your weight on me. I want to feel my husband pressing against me.”

I comply. My cockhead is pressed hard against her tightness, so much pressure but not going inside, not making a liar of me.

She reaches behind her and grabs my buns firmly, pressing them down while pushing her ass up. “Oh, fuck,” she says. “I want you inside. Fuck me!”

I keep holding still, teasing her, making her regret the promise she extracted earlier.

“Goddamit!” She fucks up at me with her ass hard, once, twice, and then my cockhead barely slips inside, just the head. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, it hurts!” But she’s still wanting it, still reaching behind holding my buns, though not pressing down any more.

“Needs more lube. May I?”

“Please!”

I sit up, pull out, and squirt a lot of lube between her cheeks and on my shaft and cockhead. Then I lay back on top of her, nestling my hardness lightly against her entry.

“Can I fuck my sexy wife in the ass?”

“Fuck me!”

I press down, my cock bending a bit as I buck for entry.

She’s groaning and making those porn star whimpering noises. “Please … slow … aaaah, it hurts!”

“Do you want me to stop, baby?”

“Fuck me. Oh fuck, oh fuck …” she says as I get the head inside and pause.

“Keep going! Hunh, aargh, oh sweetie, take your wife’s ass …”

I start sliding inside, oh so slowly, a bit deeper with each thrust, as she reaches back again and grabs my ass in an iron grip, grunting and moaning and arching her ass up, trying to get her husband all the way inside.

“Can I be a bit rough?” I ask my wife.

“Yes. Please. Take me. Fuck me. Ow. Ow. Make me yours!”

I oblige my wife, fucking her ass deeper, most of my shaft inside by now.

“Aaaaah, what the fuck, so good, oh my god, do that again!” she says as my cockhead hits her prostate.

She bucks back hard against me, fucking herself on my shaft to get her prostate kartal escort bumped over and over. “Oh god, I’m about to cum! Don’t stop!”

I grab her by the hair, knowing she’s not gonna want me to stop now no matter what. From the way she’s acting, she’s never had her wife stick a finger up her and massage her prostate. It’s like, Hide The Checkbook time, because you’ll promise anything to keep getting that endorphin rush from bumping the prostate. I yank back on her hair to help get all the way inside her ass, perhaps yanking a bit harder than necessary in sweet retribution for her earlier control of me, and knowing that the pain and shock will keep her from cumming as quick. Make it dirty and hot for her.

I’m balls deep in her now, holding it a moment, enjoying the sounds she’s making, then pull almost all the way out and push in again, treating her roughly like she begged for, yanking her hair back hard, and slapping her ass hard, enjoying seeing it redden, enjoying her submission. I grab her by the hip with the hand not holding her hair, and pull her from prone bone into doggystyle position, and start jacking off her clit.

“Aaaah! Oh fuck fuck fuck! Yes … yes … uuuurrr.” She’s grunting and panting for air, obviously close to the edge.

“Want me to stop?” I say in a not quite mocking tone of voice, still fucking her but ceasing to jerking her off.

She reaches up and slaps my cheek, not hard, almost tenderly. “Keep stroking, goddamit!”

“Please?”

“Fuck you! OK, please!”

I stroke faster, and I release her hair and cup and gently squeeze her balls with that hand.

“I’m gonna cum!” she says. “Oh, fuuuck me, here it cums!” I slide my other hand up her shaft and start twisting it around the cockhead, and she moans and shoots hot cum into my twisting, teasing hand, spurt after spurt, my hand overflowing and dripping cum on the hotel bedspread.

I can feel my own orgasm building, and as her clit starts to shrink, spent, no cum left, I ram her ass hard and in a final act of dominance, grab her hair again with the cum sprayed hand, sullying my wife’s hair while I pull it back to impale her all the way on my hard shaft.

“I’m cumming, too, baby! Can I cum in your ass?”

She turns her slightly defiled head to look me in the eye as I cum, perhaps a bit fearful of this intimacy with a stranger whose name she still doesn’t know, but ready for it, oh god the look in her eyes of wanting it puts me over the edge.

“Here it cums! Ooooh, fuuuuck!” I jam myself as deeply into her ass as I can while she pushes back with her ass to help get it all inside, and I spurt all of me into her body, over and over, gasping for breath as that sweet electricity of an orgasm shoots through my body. I release her sticky cum filled hair and tightly hug her torso with both arms, slowing fucking this stranger in a loving embrace, my subsiding erection sliding in and out as the last drips of cum are milked by the spasms of her ass, tightening and releasing, oh so good …

She falls back down in prone position under my weight as a huge wave of fatigue envelops me, the usual post orgasm sleepies, and I lay on top of her, vaguely wondering if I’m crushing her with my weight but figuring she’ll speak up if that’s an issue. I lean over and kiss her cheek. “You make such a good wife.”

She twists under me and kisses me back, on the lips. I almost shy away at that unexpected intimacy, but then remember how she’s got cum all over and inside her, thanks to me, and kiss back, somehow more intimate than any kiss I’ve shared with my wife. And only a fool treats a woman badly after fucking her, risking unleashing the wrath of one scorned. “Thank you,” I say.

“Thank you. I’ll never forget this.”

“Try to make your wife feel like this next time, OK?”

Her eyes search mine, pupils wide open. She opens her mouth to speak, but then she says nothing, or rather says everything with her eyes, no need for words. I preemptively remove any possible awkwardness of her guarding her words, by giving her another gentle kiss, thinking perhaps now would be a good time for us to exchange names. I’m thinking, for most women, such a belated exchange would be an almost unthinkably weird inversion of the rules of etiquette – blowing off what they would regard as a necessary, but certainly not sufficient, prerequisite to passion and intimacy.

Then again, no etiquette book I’ve ever read has addressed what is acceptable small talk for a straight guy looking for marital pointers on how not to piss off his wife, after he’s given a blowjob to, then gotten fucked in the ass by, a stranger whose cum is leaking out of one’s ass, all pursuant to empathizing with one’s wife’s perspective.

I’m thinking, shutting the fuck up about about * any * of that would be a strong opening gambit with one’s wife.

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