Jason's Point of View

I was on the couch and feeling a bit weird about the situation, a college basketball game on the screen.

John was a great guy. I liked him a lot. I had so much respect for him. He's treated us both great and he was letting us stay in this mansion of his for a great price. Getting head from Monica was honestly was a pretty reasonable request in light of that, right?

Still, I kept picturing my wife on her knees sucking his cock and it made me uncomfortable. If I'm willing to be honest about it... what's bothering me is that I have a hard on. That's kind of fucked up, right?

For a while, I succeeded in distracting myself with the game and my erection thankfully relented.

But then I became aware of a rhythmic sound coming from the ceiling along with loud male and female moaning.

Holy shit. Were they fucking?

I was shocked. I couldn't quite believe it. The possibility of Monica cheating on me had entered my mind. She was blowing another guy after all but I'd known she wouldn't go that far.

Even more I was surprised at how cool I was. I'm the kind of guy that gets pretty possessive. It's something Monica rags me about. But I wasn't raging at all.

I'm sad, sort of really disappointed with her. Actually there were a whole range of confusing emotions. Arousal was back as was my truculent boner.

Things were clearly approaching a crescendo. I heard Monica began moaning and begging but I couldn’t make out what she was saying, John clearly didn’t waste any time.

I couldn’t stop myself and went upstairs to the door where Monica and John were. I couldn't quite bring myself to disturb their business so I pushed my ear against the door and listened. There were long periods of silence and then I’d pick out a word or two. “-my tits?”, then I heard a slurp sound and a moan, “-never felt that way before”.

Unlike some of my previous girls, Monica didn't get much stimulation from having her breasts played with. I felt a bit of jealousy at John's apparent skill, but I was also rather impressed and I couldn't help but respect the guy for the way he was treating my wife.

John’s voice in a light tone, “I've always been pretty good with tits."

There was several minutes of her humming and moaning before he said, "You go on and get back to work, girl. I'll be right here."

"Yes, daddy." I felt a pulse of arousal at hearing that and still the envy burned ineffectually. I was well aware of my girl's favorite fantasy but the fact her father had died in bad circumstances meant I never went there.

Then silence for about thirty seconds and I began to hear rhythmic movements and panting. About three minutes later, I heard Monica crying out in release.

"Still hard?" I heard her say with a laughing groan

John and Monica were still going at it strong ten minutes later. He had some staying power. She came again and again, much louder I'd ever heard her before. Their fucking lulled me into a horny daze, my hand absently rubbing my erection through my pants, a wet spot in my boxers.

When I'm about to actually pull out my dick and stroke it directly, some measure of sanity returns. I shake my head. I was a guest here and doing something like that would be pretty sick. I didn't know how I felt about Monica having sex with John. Intellectually, I knew it should really bother me and maybe it would in the future. Right now though I was excited, aroused, and just really feeling great about our decision to stay here at John's place. Huh.

I made my way back downstairs before I embarrassed myself.

Eventually, about thirty minutes later they came back down.

She was standing behind him, fully dressed. Her hair disheveled, her face sweaty and flushed. She walked over and I could see that her nipples were sticking out like pencil erasers, I’d known her for eight years and I’d never seen them like that.

Embarrassed and seeming exhausted she gave me a hopeful smile, “Hey honey? Are we okay?”

I took another look at John, his little smile never faded, he hitched his robe slightly. I caught a glimpse of a gigantic lump between his legs. That couldn’t all be him, could it?

"Oh yea, baby. We're fine." I grinned at her reassuringly, "I did tell John here not to do anything I wouldn't do. I think that counts. Uh... Hey, I'm famished. You want to hit up a restaurant?"

Monica nodded quickly with relief and crossed the space between us. She took my hand and kissed me before drawing me to the door. It was awkward but I liked and respected John to much not to invite him along.

Fortunately, he waved it off, "No, that's fine. I'm not hungry. Oh but I know you guys probably have plans tonight. But do me a favor and cancel them. My friends and I are having a little get together tonight and I'd like you two to be part of the entertainment. It'll be a great time."

I automatically agreed, having to much respect for John not do him a favor no matter how large even If I was concerned about what he meant by entertainment. But as Monica and I exchanged looks, I think we both instinctively believed John. It would be a great time.

Monica and I walked out of there without saying a word. I didn’t know what to feel, what to say to her. I felt incredibly turned on, but I also felt no small amount of shame about this reaction to her sleeping with John. It was a weird feeling because even though I would have thought this would make me feel bad, instead I was sort of happy and content with it. John was such a great guy...

We drove in silence for a long time, we were about ten minutes from the restaurant we'd settled on, when Monica first spoke. “He’s so huge.”

“Like how huge?” I couldn’t believe I was asking. I couldn’t believe a lot about that day.

“Pull over. Please, just pull over here.”

“Are you all right?”

She got me to pull over into a driveway on a side street and she was suddenly all over me. Kissing. Pulling off my clothes. Tugging off that shirt and showing me those perfect little tits of hers.

I reached between her legs. Her panties were soaking, it was like she’d peed all over herself but it was all her juices. “Is that- Did he?”

“No, we used a condom, that’s all me.”

She was wetter than I’ve ever felt her. I slid into her more easily than I’d ever done before. We screwed like crazed weasels, Monica on top grinding into me, her eyes squinted shut. She whispered “Daddy”.

Usually Monica cums first, this time was different. I did the things that usually pushed her over the edge, tickling her back, squeezing her ass, changing my stroke.... But she couldn’t cum.

She was slamming her pelvis down hard on to my cock, her torso seeming to scrunch down around me. I could feel both her intense need and frustration. It was perfectly clear that she wanted my cock as deep as possible to set off her orgasm but it just wasn't connecting.

I grunted, "Ungh-baby, I'm close-" I tried to warn her to slow down if she wanted me to be able to continue. But her eyes lit up and she just started fucking me harder, crying "Yes! Yes! Do it inside! Try and knock me up! Yes! So hot!"

I was shocked because Monica had a whole five year plan and kids were firmly not on the menu yet. But I came and she continued to ride me, milking my softening prick of every last bit of sensation and bit of semen as it steadily shrank inside her. Finally with a wet burp her pussy expelled it along with my cum.

We separated, panting, sweaty, dissatisfied. Neither of us said a word.

I watched her retrieve a finger from between her legs and taste my cum. Her nose wrinkled and she made a face.

"So..." I finally managed, "I think we should talk about what happened back there..."