A husband has been “temporally” sharing his wife with their gay friend

Charlene and I had been married for the past eight
years. We got engaged right out of college, I got a
job, we promised each other that we’d wait to have
children until our income could make ends meet. That
was eight years ago.

We live together in a north-side condo. I work as a
marketing coordinator and she is in advertising for a
for a local fashion designer. That’s how she met John.

John was the junior art designer, hired on temporarily
to assist with a advertising campaign. My wife and him
got close and remained friends even when he changed
jobs to work with a major retailer. I know you’re
thinking I should’ve been jealous, but I met this guy
and he’s as gay as Liberace.

He took my place for all the activities I hated to do
with my wife- shopping, jogging, walking the dog, going
to plays, etc. I didn’t mind them becoming best of
friends, on the contrary, I considered it a blessing.

Our love life left much to be desired and the times
that previously were spent wrestling around the
bedroom, were now spent finishing up that recent
project from work, reading a book, or getting a much
appreciated nap. After marriage we were on fire. After
three years were still smoldering. Now there’s barely a
glowing ember. Sex has become a monthly chore for her
and I’ve been disenchanted from the frustration and
disappointment. Sex at a monthly interval always leads
to horrible performances. Neither of us minded, we just
adapted and channeled our energies into our careers.

John had moved into a condo three floors above us and
came over with regularity. Not a Saturday passed
without my wife and him ending the night sitting on the
couch, giddy from a bottle of wine and a joint. She had
always been against pot while we we’re in college, in
fact she was the reason why I had to give it up. But
now, having it reintroduced into her life from John,
she has developed a great appreciation for the power of
the high.

One weekend they returned from a night at a renowned
poetry bar. They were bubbly and had already polished a
few. I was watching Fox News, laughing at the
propaganda, when they arrived asking me if I wanted to
get stoned.

Of course I agreed, and I changed the channel to the
cartoon network while John lit up a joint he pulled
from his eyeglasses case. We all sat on the couch with
Charlene in the middle. Taking a hit from the joint, I
understood why Charlene discovered a new love, the weed
had to cost well over $100 for an eighth. The flavor
was citricy, the smoke was smooth, the heart didn’t
race and the high was anxiety free. At least the first
half hour.

We cracked up at the television, drank grapefruit
juice, ate cheese and crackers and practiced reading
each other’s mind. My wife tried reading mine, “You’re
thinking about whether I’m able to read you’re mind or
not.”

“That’s simple,” I said, acknowledging her success.
“Try something not so surface level.”

“You doubt the mystical powers of Charlene,” she said
addressing herself in the third person. “Here’s
something. You’re wondering if you’ll sink your tool
into me tonight.”

“Not bad, but still to obvious,” I admitted.

“You hope that I’ll slip a finger in your ass while you
jab your thing into me,” she said getting more honest.

“Oh, you’re so lewd,” John giggled.

She turned to him and said, “Oh sweetie I haven’t even
gotten started.” She turned back to me, “You’re hoping
that I get behind you and give you a good rimming.
You’re wondering how I know you have such an anal
fetish.”

I was blushing, she did hit a couple nails on the head,
but she directed my thoughts rather than read my mind.
I was a little embarrassed that she’d expose me in
front of John. “I don’t have an anal fetish. We haven’t
had butt sex for years, you’d think I’d have pressured
you to do that sort of thing if I had an anal fetish.”

“Oh, sweetie, don’t get all defensive,” she said with
mocked concern. “I was just reading you’re mind, like
you thinking if John ever considered nailing me.”

“Don’t get me involved,” John said with false
disinterest.

Addressing me she added, “Or him nailing you for that
matter.”

I got up, hoping that my bulging pudge wouldn’t attract
attention. I saw stars on the periphery and felt the
impact of the high. Gathering my wits I said, “You just
want to expose me to John so that you could feel the
thrill of some perverted fantasy that you’re keeping to
yourself. And after all these years we’ve never pushed
our fantasies on each other, even though I’ve voiced
them in the past, and now you so readily use them to
make me feel ill at ease, but still, you never bothered
helping out mine, so I won’t help yours now.” I felt
like the victor, that I had put her in her place.

She said to John, “D’you see how much he wants to be
sandwiched between you and me?” John just shrugged and
I went off into the bathroom.

My heart was beating rapidly and my muscles were all
jittery. I paced the tile with thousands of thoughts
shouting down my reason. I imagined her motives and
assumed that our marriage was falling apart. I wondered
if she ever loved me, if she was just playing a role
and waiting for me to die so she could get my life
insurance. Maybe she was secretly and slowly trying to
kill me. Maybe the pot was laced with poison. I
couldn’t remember if I had seen either of the others
actually take in a hit. Were they doing some Clinton
style smoking? Did I smoke that entire joint to myself.

I imagined myself having a heart attack. I stared at
myself in the mirror urging my will to take control.
After taking an aspirin and guzzling down some water, I
brushed my teeth and left the room. I saw Charlene and
John on the balcony drinking wine and smoking a
cigarette. She touched his shoulder. Feeling rejected,
I hit the liquor cabinet and downed a few fingers of
scotch. Next thing I knew I had drank a quarter of the
scotch, stripped out of my clothes, crawled under the
covers of our bed and had a pay per view porno muted on
the television.

I didn’t care if Charlene would put me out. This was my
life damn it and I’ll do as I please and think for
myself. I don’t need her to try to embarrass me to
effect my desires. Maybe that was her fantasy. I
remember taking out her KY-Jelly but after that I felt
fatigued and decided to rest my eyes a moment and
gather my strength before I jerked off. Then I assume I
passed out. You can never know these things for sure.

My dreams were all warped and distorted. At first, I
dreamt that I was riding a giant tongue. Every time I
talked in the dream the tongue would bounce up and down
and flick around. I had to lay flat and hold onto the
ridges of the sides in order not to slip off.

The mouth would open, now and then and I’d get a
glimpse of the world outside it. I saw two girls
swimming in a pool and they were making out with each
other. This was the same situation as the porn I had
been watching. I tried to see more but the tongue would
bounce around too much for me to ever really get a good
look.

Knowing that I was dreaming, I tried to imagine myself
in a sexual event. At first images of my wife flashed
around. I had her take her clothes off, but then John
showed up in the dream. I was a bit disappointed but
didn’t feel inclined to stop. My mind, my playground.

Charlene took off John’s clothes. In no time he was
standing there with his long pointy cock fueling my
arousal. Charlene stood close behind him and wrapped
around to stroke his cock. She was talking but it
sounded like everything was underwater. She started to
twist around and I saw flashed of her nude frontal
figure at intervals. It got closer and grew to such
proportions that it dwarfed my being to the size of a
pea.

Her obstructing head pass my vision like a scrolling
marquee. It descended down to my crotch. When her huge
head freed my vision I saw John in the background
pumping his shaft in long strokes.

A warmth engulfed my cock. I saw a bulging mountain of
hair rising and falling in rhythm. Something was
spinning rapidly around the head of my dick. Looking
back at John, he was double the size, gliding his hand
over his pole like before. Redirecting my attention
back to the mountain of hair I saw my wife’s enormous
eyes staring back at me, my cock was blocked by her
distortedly large nose. Unable to face those eyes I
looked back at John. He was replaced with a gigantic
cock with long and wide fingers zooming over it to a
regular measure.

The mouth I was in, was open wide, closing
infrequently, allowing me these great views, but when
it faced the gigantic cock appeared it opened even
more. The dick rotated until only an enormous head
could be seen. I saw the glands under the head, the
large slit that was glistening from a coating of
precum. I began to wonder if this was my own cock and I
was in the mouth of my wife. The head grew larger and
congested the entire opening of the mouth I was in.

I felt suffocated and blinded. But the pleasure from my
own cock was incredible. I decided that the mouth I was
in was pleasuring me so I tried to guide it. I let the
helmet of the invading cock slide over the tongue. It
was like I could feel the silkiness f the head and the
hardness of the shaft. The veins bulged out and the
roof of the mouth was grazed by the smooth head. It
slid in and out, the foreskin shifting out of tune with
the shaft.

Strangely the arousing sensation coming from my own
cock disappeared and it felt cool like after getting
out of the shower. The huge cock slipped out of the
mouth and it opened up to the girls making out in the
pool again. Then there was what felt like an
earthquake. Everything shifted and tilted and when it
stopped there was a major change in balance, yet it was
rather comfortable. There was no pressure for the back
and it almost felt like I was floating.

A weird tickling started around my balls. Everything
was tingling down there. I felt the sensation drift
lower and passing my perineum it centered around my
anus. The titillation made it feel warm and slippery. A
slick pressure pushed on the sphincter. The mouth
shifted and I was able to see my wife holding up a pair
of bent legs. They were my legs. She had one leg
leaning against her shoulder and another spread and
held to the side.

I was enjoying the sensation. It felt like the one time
the wife rimmed my asshole. I’ve had dreams like that
before, unfortunately Charlene never helped make them a
reality.

Thinking it was odd that Charlene could be holding up
my legs and still pleasuring my asshole, I looked at my
crotch. The waves of dark brown hair that was bouncing
around was quite different from the dishwater blonde of
my wife. A suspicion slowly grew that this was John
between my legs.

This wasn’t my first gay dream. I’ve had a few over the
years. Usually, I force myself awake, but once in a
while I’ll just roll with what develops. As if on cue,
John rose, from between the legs and knelt before my
crotch. I could recognize my cock pointed at my navel.
He took over the holding of my knees and my wife
slipped to the side.

I felt something slipping around the crack of my ass.
John was like a statue, his head upturned and his body
motionless. But the slippery pressure concentrated at
my sphincter. I knew what was happening in the dream. I
knew perfectly well that what was slipping around was
the head of his cock. I knew that the thick prick was
about to stretch and fill my asshole. I didn’t resist.

I felt the mushroomed head slip passed my tightened
ring. It was clamped down so hard that he had to push
to get his foreskin to follow the helmet. A groan
echoed in the air. I knew I was making it difficult, so
I tried to release my sphincter. Somehow it worked and
the cock was making progress into my virgin ass.

I felt the tip push against the prostate. Butterflies
danced in my stomach and the world became alight with
electricity. Everything felt more real like a lucid
dream. I could see my wife laying naked on the bed, her
feet near my head and her face studying the cock
invading my ass. She was stroking my thighs, adding to
the flutter in my abdomen. She looked back at me, her
eyes were back to normal. She smiled and leaned toward
my crotch, taking my cock in her mouth. The feeling was
unreal and the whole time I could feel John’s cock
grazing against the prostate.

He must have pushed himself in the length of his shaft.
I felt his balls resting in the crack of my ass. Just
when I was getting comfortable with the feeling of
fullness, he started to withdraw. This was more rapid
and the emptying of my bowel felt wonderful but in no
comparison to the sensation of the cock brushing
against the prostate. Soon that was happening again,
followed by a great emptying and it repeated quicker
and quicker from then on.

Charlene was still focused on my cock, but only swirled
her tongue around the tip. I think she was watching the
ass action. John was rocking his head from side to side
and his body bobbed with each thrust. The thrusting was
getting so intense that I could feel my body rocking.
My ass was welcoming it in with more and more ease. I
began to wish his cock was thicker and longer.

It seemed my wish was being granted, and his cock
stiffened into a rock and sunk even deeper. Then my
wife started to bob up and down and massaged my balls.
She did her patented swirl-flick with her tongue, it
would make me cum in no time back when she used to give
me head. I felt the same effect as before.

A heat was growing from my navel, spreading to my ass.
John’s concrete cock was pulsating heavily, and he
slowed his thrusts. I could swear that I felt the veins
of his shaft expand to a rhythm. Suddenly there was a
twitch and John exploded with a pounding against my
ass. It felt sloshy and sloppy around my asshole. I
felt something dribbling down my crack.

Charlene intensified her ministrations and that heat
that magnified the sensations around my ass slid to my
balls and was conquering my cock. As it traveled the
length of my member it tensed the shaft to higher and
higher pressures. My cock head engorged and became as
stiff as the shaft.

I couldn’t hold back any more and was dumping load
after load into her mouth. My sphincter clenched
tightly around the still pulsating prick lodged in my
ass. It must have been painful because John started to
pull out. The emptying of both bowels and balls caused
a shiver to ride up my spine. My head became all cloudy
and my vision faded to static. My cock hiccoughed one
last strand of cum onto the swirling tongue. The entire
world started to slip away. My cock felt cold and I
actually heard my wife’s voice say, “Watch I’ll make
him eat it.” Then my mouth became slippery and after
smacking my lips and swallowing I had a strange flavor
that haunted me as I slipped into a deeper netherworld.

My other dreams weren’t as intense and didn’t last
through the night. I awoke sprawled out on the bed
naked and hung over. My ass felt tender, but I figured
I just had to go to the bathroom. I crawled out of bed
and made my way to the toilette. Nothing much came out
and after wiping I washed up and saw some drool
encrusted on my cheek. I finished up, got dressed and
saw my wife making breakfast.

“There he is. You freaked out and crashed early last
night,” she said flipping a couple eggs in a frying
pan.

“The weed got to me and I had some fucked up dreams,” I
said rubbing my temples.

She reached in the fridge and pulled out some bottled
water. “Nightmares?” she asked handing me the bottle.

“No, they were all good, just really trippy.”

“I bet,” she said with a smirk and went back to the
eggs. I guzzled down the water and she finished up with
breakfast. We ate together and after coffee I had to
leave to run a few errands.

I went down to the lobby and while checking the mail I
ran into John, stepping inside from the street wearing
a spandex suit and roller blades. “Hey sleepy, how’s
the head feel this mornin’?” he asked.

“Not too good, I shouldn’t have had any scotch,” I
replied.

“That’s a good idea, and maybe next time you can be a
little less sedate and more energetic,” he said with a
smile, touching me on the shoulder. And before I could
ask him what he meant he turned to see the elevator
door closing and said, “Oops, got to make the elevator,
kisses.”

I was left holding my keys wondering what was true and
what was a dream.

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