My wife traded me by the neighbor's son Ch. 08

The next morning felt surreal, like the world had shifted overnight while I was sleeping.

I woke up to soft sunlight cutting through the blinds and the rich smell of fresh coffee drifting from the kitchen. Kristen was already up, moving quietly around the bedroom in nothing but one of my old white button-down shirts. The hem barely reached the bottom curve of her ass, and the front hung open just enough to reveal the soft, heavy swell of her breasts and the faint red bite marks Brad had left on her neck and collarbone the night before.

She noticed me watching her and turned with that new, knowing smile — soft, a little mischievous, completely in control. Without saying a word, she climbed onto the bed and straddled my waist, settling her weight on me. The shirt fell completely open, exposing her naked body. Her pussy was already warm and slick as it rested against the growing hardness in my boxers.

“Morning, baby,” she whispered, leaning down to kiss me slowly, deeply, letting me taste the coffee on her tongue. When she pulled back, she stayed right there, hips gently rocking, dragging her wet folds along my trapped cock through the thin fabric.

“I need to tell you something important,” she said softly, her voice low and intimate, like we were sharing the deepest secret in the world. “And I want you to just listen, okay? Feel everything with me. Don’t rush to answer.”

I swallowed hard, my hands instinctively settling on her smooth thighs. My heart was already racing.

“Kristen… what is it?” I asked, voice rough with sleep and sudden nerves.

Kristen smiled and rolled her hips again, slower this time, letting me feel how soaked she was.

“Brad isn’t going to be fucking me every single day anymore,” she began, her tone gentle but matter-of-fact. “Not regularly like he has been. He told me yesterday that he wants to start sharing me with other men. His friends. Other guys who can give me what I need when he’s busy.”

My breath hitched sharply. My cock twitched violently beneath her.

“W-wait… sharing you?” I stammered, eyes wide. “With who? Other guys? Like… regularly?”

She felt my reaction immediately and let out a soft, delighted laugh.

“Mmm… there it is,” she purred, grinding down a little firmer, coating my boxers with her wetness. “Your little pee-pee is getting so excited just from hearing that. That’s so cute, Timmy. So honest.”

“Kristen, this is… this is crazy,” I whispered, my hands tightening on her thighs. “You’re really going to let other men fuck you? Just because Brad says so?”

She placed two fingers gently over my lips.

“Shhh. Let me finish, baby. Just listen.”

She kept moving — slow, sensual rolls of her hips, her slick pussy sliding along the full length of my cock, teasing me without mercy.

“He’s been thinking about it for a while now,” she continued, voice silky and warm. “He says I’m too good, too greedy, too hungry to keep just for himself. He wants me to get properly fucked by real men. Men who are older, more experienced. Men with thick cocks and lots of stamina. Men who know exactly how to use a woman like me.”

“Older men?” I breathed, my voice cracking. “How many? Do you… do you already know them?”

She leaned down and kissed my neck, sucking lightly on the skin while her hips never stopped their lazy rhythm.

“One of them is a married businessman in his forties. Very successful, very dominant. Brad showed me his pictures. Big hands, strong body, a cock that’s even thicker than Brad’s. He wants to take me to a nice hotel suite while his wife thinks he’s in a long meeting. He wants to spend hours stretching me open, making me scream his name.”

I groaned softly, hips bucking up involuntarily.

“God… Kristen… you’re really going to do this?” I asked, barely able to think straight. “Let some stranger fuck you for hours?”

Another slow grind. Another wet slide of her pussy over my throbbing shaft.

“Another one is a personal trainer Brad knows. Younger, built like a god, with incredible endurance. Brad says the first time he’s going to let him fuck me raw, right in front of him. So Brad can watch every inch disappear inside me and tell me how pretty I look taking a new cock for the first time.”

My hands trembled on her thighs.

“You want that?” I whispered, voice hoarse. “You want them to… use you like that? While Brad watches?”

She sat up straighter, letting the shirt fall completely off her shoulders. Her full breasts swayed beautifully as she moved, nipples hard and dark.

“And the best part?” she whispered, eyes sparkling with pure excitement. “Brad doesn’t want me to hide any of it from you anymore. He wants you to know everything. Every detail. Every thrust. Every load. He wants you to hear how loud I moan for them. How stretched and sloppy my pussy gets after they’ve used me for hours.”

“Kristen… please,” I gasped, my cock leaking steadily into my boxers as she stroked me through the fabric with her wet folds. “This is too much. I don’t know if I can handle hearing all that.”

She reached down between us, slipped her hand inside my boxers, and wrapped her warm fingers around my bare cock, stroking me with slow, perfect pressure.

“Look how hard you are, Timmy,” she cooed lovingly. “It’s throbbing so much just from listening to me talk about getting fucked by other men. That’s so sweet. So perfect. It means you understand what I need now.”

“I… I’m hard because… because it’s you,” I stammered, trying to hold onto some dignity even as my hips twitched into her hand. “But the idea of other men… it scares me. It makes me feel… small.”

Kristen leaned down again, lips brushing my ear, voice dropping to a sultry whisper.

“And you’re going to be such a good boy about it, aren’t you? You’re going to pay the fee every month without complaining. You’re going to read every message in the group chat. You’re going to listen quietly when I come home and tell you exactly how they fucked me. And when I crawl into bed still leaking another man’s cum… you’re going to hold me and thank me for letting you be part of this.”

“Kristen… I don’t know if I can do that,” I whispered, voice breaking. “Thank you for… for letting other guys cum inside you? That’s insane.”

She kissed my jaw tenderly, her hand still stroking me with that perfect, unhurried rhythm.

“Say it, Timmy,” she whispered hotly against my lips. “Tell me you understand. Tell me you’re going to be good while other men fuck your wife. Tell me you want me to be a good slut for them.”

I was shaking beneath her, my hips bucking up involuntarily into her hand.

“I… I understand,” I whispered, voice cracking with shame and arousal. “I’ll… I’ll try to be good.”

Kristen’s face lit up with pure affection and lust.

“Good boy,” she purred, kissing me deeply, filthily, her tongue sliding against mine while her hand kept working my cock. “My sweet, obedient little husband. This is our life now, baby. And I think deep down… you’re going to love every second of it.”

She pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, still slowly stroking me, her own arousal dripping onto my stomach.

“No matter how many men Brad lets use me,” she whispered tenderly, “I’ll always come home to you. I’ll always tell you everything. I’ll always let you feel exactly how used and satisfied your wife is.”

She kissed me once more — slow, deep, and possessive — while her hand continued its perfect, relentless rhythm.

“This is what you want too, isn’t it, Timmy?”

I could only nod weakly, completely lost in her eyes, her touch, and the overwhelming heat of her words.

Kristen smiled, radiant and wicked.

“Then be a good boy and pay the fee. Because starting very soon… your wife is going to get fucked by a lot of new cocks. And I can’t wait for you to hear every single detail.”

I lay there beneath her, chest heaving, my cock throbbing desperately in her slow-moving hand. The words kept echoing in my head — other men, new cocks, being shared. My mind was spinning so fast I could barely think straight.

“Kristen…” I whispered, voice cracking. “How did we even get here? How did we go from being husband and wife… to this? To you telling me you’re going to fuck other guys and I’m just supposed to… accept it?”

She paused her stroking for a moment, looking down at me with soft, loving eyes. Her fingers stayed wrapped around my shaft, gently squeezing.

“We’re still husband and wife, Timmy,” she said tenderly, leaning down to kiss my forehead. “Nothing changes that. I still love you. I still want to come home to you every night. You’re still my safe place. My sweet husband.”

“But… but it feels like everything is changing,” I said, my voice small and shaky. “You’re talking about other men using you like it’s normal. Like I’m just… supposed to watch or wait. Are we even still a real married couple anymore?”

Kristen’s expression softened even more. She brushed a strand of hair from my forehead, her hips still gently rocking against me.

“Of course we are,” she whispered. “I love you, Tim. That hasn’t changed. I still want to wake up next to you, make coffee for you, cuddle with you on the couch. This thing with Brad and the other men… it’s just sex. It’s just pleasure. It doesn’t take away from us. It doesn’t make me love you any less.”

I swallowed hard, my throat tight.

“Are we… are we still going to have sex?” I asked quietly, almost afraid of the answer. “You and me? Like a normal married couple?”

Kristen bit her lip, looking a little guilty for the first time. She continued stroking me slowly with her warm hand, but her touch felt almost apologetic now.

“Brad asked me to hold off on that for a while,” she said softly. “He wants me to stay really sensitive for the other guys. He says it makes me tighter and wetter for them if I don’t cum with you too much.”

My stomach dropped.

“So… we’re not going to have sex anymore?” I whispered, voice breaking. “Not at all?”

She shook her head gently, still stroking me with slow, careful movements.

“Not full sex for now,” she murmured. “But… I can still take care of you a little. If you promise not to tell Brad.”

“I can use just these on your cutie thing,” she whispered, almost conspiratorially. “Nice and slow. Just enough to make you feel good. But you have to promise me you won’t tell him. Brad gets jealous if I give you too much attention. He says you don't deserve more than this right now.”

I stared at her fingers, my face burning with humiliation and desperate need.

“Kristen… this is so fucked up,” I whispered. “You’re my wife. And now I have to hide even this from him?”

She leaned down and kissed me again — soft, loving, almost maternal.

“I know it feels weird, baby,” she said gently. “But this is how it has to be for now. Brad wants me focused on the new men. He wants me hungry for them. But I still love you. I still want to make you feel good. So… can I use my fingers? You’ll be quiet and good, right?”

My cock twitched hard in her hand. I hated how much I wanted it.

“Okay…” I whispered, voice barely audible. “I won’t tell him.”

Kristen’s smile returned, warm and approving.

“Good boy,” she purred. “My sweet, obedient Timmy.”

She slid her hand back inside my boxers, but this time she only used her index and middle finger, wrapping them gently around my throbbing shaft like she was handling something delicate and small. She started stroking me with slow, teasing movements — just enough pressure to drive me crazy, but nowhere near enough to satisfy me.

“Mmm… feel that?” she whispered, kissing my neck again. “Doesn’t that feel nice?” I groaned softly, hips twitching.

“Yes…” I breathed. “It feels… good.”

She giggled quietly against my skin. “See? We can still be intimate. Just in our own special way now. And when I come home after one of the other men fucks me… I’ll tell you everything while I stroke you like this. Would you like that, baby?”

I closed my eyes, shame and arousal twisting together inside me.

“I… I don’t know,” I whispered. “Maybe.”

Kristen kissed me again, deeper this time, never stopping their slow, teasing strokes.

“Don’t worry,” she murmured against my lips. “We’re still husband and wife. I still love you. Nothing is going to change that.”

But as her fingers continued their gentle, humiliating rhythm, and her words about other men kept echoing in my head, I wasn’t sure I believed her anymore.

She kept her two fingers wrapped gently around my throbbing cock inside my boxers, stroking me with slow, teasing movements — just enough pressure to make my hips twitch, but nowhere near enough to satisfy me. Her touch felt humiliatingly delicate, like she was handling something fragile and small.

“Mmm… feel that, baby?” she whispered, her voice low and sultry as she slowly pumped her index and middle finger up and down my shaft. “Brad told me I shouldn’t give you more than this right now. He said your cock doesn’t deserve a full hand anymore.”

I groaned softly, my hips bucking up into her grip despite myself.

“Kristen… fuck…” I breathed, voice shaky.

She giggled quietly, her breath warm against my neck as she kept stroking me: slow, deliberate, torturously light. “Shhh… just relax, Timmy. Let me take care of my sweet husband. Brad says this is all you need to be happy from now on. He wants me to keep my pussy extra sensitive for the other men, so I can’t ride you or let you fuck me properly.”

Her fingers tightened just a little, sliding up to the head and circling the leaking tip before sliding back down to the base. The sensation was maddening — too soft, too teasing, but so incredibly intimate. “Does that feel good?” she purred, kissing my jaw.

I whimpered, my cock pulsing hard between her fingers. “Kristen… please… it’s so embarrassing,” I whispered, face burning.

She smiled against my skin and stroked me a little faster, her thumb occasionally brushing the sensitive underside. “I know, baby. But Brad loves knowing you’re like this. He gets so hard when I tell him how desperate your little pee-pee gets. He says it proves you’re learning your place.”

She sat up straighter, still straddling me, her wet pussy hovering just above my stomach as she looked down at her hand working inside my boxers. “Look at you leaking already,” she cooed. “All that pre-cum!”

She kept stroking me with that same torturous rhythm — slow, steady, never giving me enough. Her fingers were slick with my pre-cum now, making wet little sounds every time they slid over the head. Every few strokes she would pause at the tip, gently squeezing and twisting around the sensitive head, making me leak even more.

“Feel how slippery you are?” she whispered, her voice dripping with affection and teasing. “Brad told me that if I keep you like this — desperate and leaking — you’ll stay more obedient. He wants you to associate pleasure with knowing other men are using me. Every time I stroke you, you’re going to think about Brad’s friends stretching my pussy.”

I was trembling, my hips jerking up helplessly into her gentle grip.

“Kristen… I can’t… I can’t believe you’re saying all this while you’re… touching me,” I panted.

She leaned down again, her breasts brushing my chest, and whispered hotly in my ear while she kept pumping me slowly.

“Because it’s true, baby. Brad owns my pussy now. He decides who gets to fuck it properly. Doesn’t that make you so hard? Knowing Brad is the one who decides how I touch my own husband?”

Her fingers sped up just slightly — still only two, still so humiliatingly gentle — sliding up and down my slick shaft with wet, obscene little sounds. She would occasionally twist her wrist, letting her fingertips drag along the sensitive underside, making my cock jump in her hand.

“Imagine when I come home after one of the other guys fucks me,” she whispered, her voice dripping with lust. “My pussy all stretched and full of their cum… and I’ll sit right here like this and tell you every detail while I stroke you like this.”

I was losing it. My hips were bucking desperately now. “Kristen… please… I’m so close,” I whimpered.

She smiled sweetly and slowed her fingers even more, teasing me right on the edge. “Not yet, baby. Brad said I should make you wait. He wants you to stay desperate. He wants your little pee-pee to learn that it only cums when I decide.”

She kissed me deeply again, her tongue sliding into my mouth. “This is our new sex life now, Timmy,” she whispered against my lips. “And I think you’re going to love how pathetic it makes you feel.”

I was trembling beneath her, my hips twitching helplessly into her gentle grip. “Kristen… why?” I whispered, voice cracking with frustration and need. “Why is it like this now? If you’re not going to let me fuck you anymore… am I even going to come at all?”

She tilted her head, still slowly stroking me, her touch light and maddeningly teasing. “Yes, of course! Well, actually... maybe,” she said softly, almost thoughtfully. “As I said, Brad said you have to earn it first.”

I blinked, my breath catching.

“Earn it?” I asked, voice small and shaky. “Earn it how? What… what do I have to do?”

Kristen shrugged lightly. “Letting Brad stay happy,” she said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “That’s the main rule now. As long as Brad is happy with how things are going, maybe he’ll let me give you a little release sometimes.”

I let out a frustrated, broken murmur, my head falling back against the pillow. “He’s already fucking you,” I whispered, shame burning in my cheeks. “He’s already making me pay him $400 every month… what else does he want from me?”

Kristen gave a small, casual shrug. “I don’t know, baby,” she said lightly, almost playfully. “You’re gonna have to find out.”

She leaned down and kissed the corner of my mouth, her breath warm against my skin. “But here’s an idea…” she added, her voice turning sweet and teasing. “Why don’t you send him a nice tip tonight? Maybe an extra $50 or $100 on top of the monthly fee. And write him a little message thanking him for being such a great lover to your wife. Tell him how much you appreciate him taking such good care of me.”

I stared at her, stunned. “You’re… you’re seriously suggesting that?” I asked, my voice rising in disbelief. “That I thank him? For fucking you?”

Kristen giggled softly. “I’m just suggesting…” she said innocently, batting her lashes at me. “It might put him in a better mood. And who knows? Maybe he’ll be nicer about letting you cum.”

I lay there for a long moment, my face burning with humiliation and madness. My cock was still rock-hard and leaking between her fingers. Finally, in a haze of shame and desperate arousal, I muttered: “Fine… I’ll do it. After the handjob. I’ll send him the tip and… and thank him.”

Kristen shook her head slowly, a soft but firm “no” in her eyes.

“No, baby,” she said gently, “Brad taught me that the money always comes first. Before the sex. Before anything else.”

She kept her rhythm steady — slow, teasing, maddeningly light — sliding her fingertips up and down my slick shaft while she spoke.

“You’re going to send the tip right now,” she whispered, leaning closer so her breasts brushed my chest. “While I’m playing with your little pee-pee. That way Brad knows you’re being a good boy and putting his needs first. Just like he wants.”

I groaned, my hips twitching up into her gentle grip.

“Kristen… please,” I whispered, voice cracking. “Can’t I just… finish first? I’m so close…”

“No, Timmy. Brad says the money has to come before any pleasure you get. That’s the new rule. If you want me to keep stroking your little pee-pee, you have to show him you understand who comes first now.”

She reached over to the nightstand with her free hand, picked up my phone, and held it in front of my face. “Go on,” she cooed softly. “Open Venmo. Send him the extra tip. And write him a nice message. Tell him thank you for taking such good care of your wife. Tell him you’re grateful he’s letting you stay in the picture.”

My face burned hotter than ever. My cock pulsed hard between her fingers as she kept stroking me — slow, steady, never giving me enough.

“Kristen… this is humiliating,” I whispered, but my hands were already moving, unlocking the phone.

“I know, baby,” she murmured, kissing my neck while she continued her gentle torture. “But that’s what makes it so hot for Brad. He loves knowing you’re leaking and desperate while you send him money and thank him for fucking me.”

I opened Venmo with trembling fingers. Kristen watched closely, still slowly stroking me.

“Now add a little extra,” she suggested sweetly. “Maybe $100 on top of the monthly fee. And write something nice. Something submissive. Brad likes when husbands show proper gratitude.”

I hesitated, breathing hard. “What… what should I say?” I asked weakly.

Kristen smiled and leaned in, whispering right against my ear while her fingers kept working my cock: “Something like… ‘Thank you for taking such good care of my wife, Brad. Here’s a little extra to show my appreciation. I’m grateful you’re keeping her satisfied in ways I never could.’”

My stomach twisted with shame, but my cock throbbed even harder. I typed the message with shaking hands, my face on fire. Kristen read it over my shoulder and let out a soft, approving moan.

“Good boy,” she whispered. “Now send it.”

I hit send.

The moment the payment went through, Kristen’s fingers sped up just a tiny bit. “There we go,” she purred, kissing my cheek. “Now you can enjoy your little handjob properly.” She kept stroking me, while my phone buzzed with a new notification from Brad.

Brad: Good boy, Timmy. Appreciate the extra. Keep it up and maybe I’ll let Kristen be a little nicer to you today.

Kristen giggled softly when she saw the message.

“See?” she whispered, still slowly pumping me. “Brad’s happy now. That means I can keep playing with you… for a little while longer. You know what’s funny, baby?” she murmured, her fingers sliding smoothly up and down my leaking shaft. “Brad’s cock is just… so much better. It’s thicker. Longer. When he pushes inside me, I can feel every inch stretching me open. My pussy gets so full it almost hurts… but in the best way.”

I groaned, my hips jerking up into her hand. “Kristen…” I whispered, voice strained.

“When he fucks me deep, my pussy flutters around him. It grips him so tight, like it doesn’t want to let go. I get so wet for him, Timmy. Wetter than I’ve ever been for you. Sometimes I cum just from him sliding in the first time… because he hits places you’ve never reached.”

Her fingers sped up just a little, still so humiliatingly light, but the words were pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

“And when he cums inside me…” she whispered hotly against my ear, “I can feel it. So warm. So much. It fills me up completely. My pussy keeps pulsing around him, milking every drop. Sometimes it leaks out for hours afterward.”

I was panting now, my cock throbbing wildly between her fingers.

“Fuck… Kristen… I’m gonna—”

“That’s it, baby,” she cooed, her voice dripping with affection and teasing. “Cum for me. Cum while I tell you how good Brad’s big cock feels in your wife’s pussy. Cum thinking about how he stretches me. How he owns me. How my pussy belongs to him now.”

Her two fingers kept pumping — slow, steady, perfect — as she leaned in even closer. “Come on, Timmy… let it out. Show me how much you love hearing about Brad’s dick ruining your wife’s tight little pussy.”

That was all it took.

I cried out, my whole body tensing as I came hard — harder than I had in weeks. Thick ropes of cum spurted over her fingers, onto my stomach, onto the sheets. My cock pulsed again and again in her gentle grip while she kept stroking me through every wave, milking me dry with just those two fingers.

When I finally collapsed back, breathing hard, Kristen looked down at the mess I’d made and let out a soft, delighted giggle.

“Oh wow…” she whispered, still slowly sliding her cum-covered fingers up and down my softening cock. “You came so hard, baby. Look at all that cum. You really enjoyed hearing about Brad’s dick, didn’t you?”

I lay there panting, face burning with shame.

“You came harder than usual,” she said softly, almost teasingly. “Way harder. I think you like it when I talk about how good Brad’s cock feels inside me. How much better it is than yours. How my pussy gets so wet and stretched for him…”

She leaned down and kissed my cheek tenderly, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“It’s okay, Timmy. You don’t have to hide it. I think it’s cute that you cum so much when I tell you the truth about Brad’s big, thick dick. Maybe next time I’ll tell you even more details!”

She gave my spent cock one last gentle squeeze, then climbed off me, still smiling that sweet, knowing smile.

“Clean yourself up, baby,” she said lightly. She walked toward the bathroom, hips swaying, leaving me lying there covered in my own cum, heart pounding, and mind reeling with shame and twisted arousal.

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