Hotwife’s First Spitroast

Garrett was tall, dark, and handsome, in great shape, and absolutely hung. My jaw dropped when he sent the dick pic.

“Holy fuck!” I exclaimed, getting my husband’s attention. “Look at this cock, honey.”

“Christ,” he said, peering over my shoulder. “What’s his name?”

“Garrett,” I answered.

“You sure you can handle all that?” He smirked. “I mean, have you ever had someone that big before?”

“No, never,” I lied. Well, it wasn’t that far from the truth. Once in college, I’d hooked up a stud with a third arm hanging between his legs. I actually covered my mouth and laughed when I saw it, it was so ridiculously huge. I wouldn’t let him anywhere near my pussy. After I got over the initial shock, which he was used to from women by now, I gave him a blowjob, and I really did the best I could possibly do to show him a good time. He came hard, and I earned it. I sucked his soul out through that bulging monster dick. Still, he was a little bothered that I wouldn’t even try to have sex with him, so it all ended the same night it began.

Garrett was hung like a pornstar, but it still looked manageable. Actually, it looked like it would be a lot of fun. He was a lot bigger than my husband. By the looks of it, he was about the same size as Mike, Abby’s husband. I almost said something, but the words caught in my throat before they got out, thankfully. Will still didn’t know about that. I wasn’t sure how to tell him, or even if I would tell him. Although, the way things were trending, I might be able to confess without incurring any jealous wrath over my obvious betrayal of trust. There was no sugarcoating that aspect of it, no matter how open our marriage became. Eventually, it wouldn’t be a problem that I let Abby’s husband give me a massive facial after he voyeuristically watched me for an hour or so. But the breach of trust would always be a problem. I sighed, shoving the thought to the side. My husband interrupted my internal guilt trip.

“Am I crazy, or does Garrett look…um…well, he kinda looks like me,” he said, handing my phone back to me. “Don’t you think?”

I furrowed my brow and reexamined the pictures.

“No. Wait. Wait...oh, man.” I laughed. “I guess I have a type!” I honestly hadn’t noticed, but he was right. They dressed the same, had the same hair, even had similar faces, sort of.

“Well,” my husband sighed, “he’s kind of like the upgraded version of me, by the looks of it.”

“No,” I protested. “What do you mean?”

“Well, starting with the obvious…”

I shrugged, conceding the point. Garrett’s nine inches versus Will’s six inches wasn’t really up for debate. (Ironically, I would soon find out that nine inches was a bit much for me. Give me 6.5 with some heft and I will never need anything else. Nine inches is like getting fucked by an octopus tentacle.)

“Yeah, he’s got a much bigger cock than me, his shoulders are broader, he’s got just a little bit more muscle tone than me, and he’s two inches taller.”

“Is he?” I asked.

“That’s what it says on his profile. Six foot, two inches.”

“Oh. Hm.” Solid points. I looked up and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. “You know I love you,” I reassured him. “And only you. You’re the only one I want. If you’re having second thoughts, we don’t have—“

“Oh, no, I’m definitely not having second thoughts,” he laughed. “I know you love me. I love you, too.” He kissed me. “But even though it makes me a little insecure, it’s kind of thrilling. I’m so excited for this. Plus, I want you to have this. I wanna do this for you, not just me. I’m happy that I’m letting you fuck a hot guy with no strings attached, no guilt, just like you would if you were single. I feel like I’m giving you a wonderful present, you know?”

I didn’t really know, to be honest. I was only doing this for my husband, because he wanted to see me get fucked by a big dick stranger. But…who was I kidding, Garrett was really hot. I absolutely did want to fuck him. And even as a married woman, I wouldn’t have been able to resist a little innocent flirtation had I seen him at a bar.

Over the next few days, Garrett and I sexted constantly. Every new picture I saw of his dick somehow looked bigger than the last. I was a little nervous, to tell the truth. Sending nudes and talking about what we wanted to do to each other, we’d been getting on the same page about our sexual likes and dislikes. I wanted him to get rough with me, I wanted him to bite me, to slap me around and pin me down and use me. I could tell I’d have to encourage him a lot to go in that direction. He was pretty vanilla, actually.

Will had a few things he wanted, and Garrett and I talked about those ideas, too. They were going to spitroast me, taking turns fucking my mouth and pussy. It’s a shame there wasn’t a third man to make me airtight, I thought to myself. I’d always wanted to try that.

There were a few variations of the spitroast scenario that Will wanted to try. I’d be sucking his cock while Garrett pounded me doggystyle, sucking his cock while Garrett fucked me missionary; then with Garrett fucking my face and Will fucking my pussy in different positions, and so on. Will was going to film all of it.

My husband was also going to put me on my knees so I could suck both of their dicks at once, which I worried might be a little emasculating for him. Wasn’t he worried about his (generously) six inch dick being side by side with Garrett’s nine inch fat monster cock? I mean seriously, that was bigger than some porn stars.

Oh, and my husband really wanted sloppy seconds. He wanted Garrett to cum in me raw. (He’d already bought a day after pill, just to be safe.) And once I’d been creampied by Garrett, Will wanted to creampie me right afterwards. I loved the thought of both of them breeding me, of getting filled with multiple loads of cum. If anything, I wished there could be one or two more to add to the dripping mess inside my pussy. Fuck, how hot would that be — a river of cum from three or four different men gushing out of me? My pussy throbbed at the thought.

God, why couldn’t I just be a concubine? I didn’t want to go to work tomorrow. I wanted to be my husband’s sex ****, pleasuring him and all the men he’d brought home for me to entertain.

A few minutes later, I'd called off sick from work. My husband looked at me curiously as I hung up the phone.

“I’m gonna tell him to come over tonight,” I told him. “I mean—if that’s alright. I’m not going to work tomorrow.”

His eyes widened. “So he can spend the night?”

“Yeah,” I said, “If he wants to. And we won’t have to worry about getting up in the morning.”

Will glanced out the window and stared. Then, his eyes met mine and he smiled. “I’m excited,” he said. “I can’t believe we’re really doing this!”