A Sea Cruise for the Marine and the Attorney

A Sea Cruise for the Marine and the Attorney

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I stopped abruptly just inside the door to our stateroom, sensing that someone else was in the room. Three decades as a Marine, my training was reflex – obviously there wasn’t any threat, being there on a cruise ship. Our butler, likely. Yet as that deduction formed in my head, I was quietly letting the door close, holding the handle and gently releasing it soundlessly behind me. Again, reflex.

As I took careful steps through the entryway of our extravagant stateroom suite, I stopped abruptly when I caught movement in the reflection in a large, framed mirror on the wall of the living room.

My deduction was confirmed, though far from the way I expected.

There were several large mirrors on bulkheads (walls, to you land lubbers) in the several rooms of our suite. Various angles gave different panoramic – or more appropriately stated, periscopic – view into several rooms by viewing several reflections. In fact, from the angle of my position in the entrance to the living room, the big mirror in that room reflected another large mirror in the hall and that reflected another huge floor-to-ceiling mirror on a bulkhead inside the bedroom. And that bedroom mirror reflected into the vast “master bathroom” and one of the two opposing walls of mirrors in that bathroom’s main area. That’s where I saw Jaan, our butler . . . with his face buried in one of our ripe, sweat-soaked jock straps which we’d left hanging on the bathroom hooks.

That Jaan wasn’t moving about efficiently tidying as I’d always observed him and expected would have been surprising enough. But what I was seeing was surprising . . . and intriguing. Jaan’s expression of rapture as he huffed and rubbed his face in the jock strap .

Not to digress, but our butler Jaan is HOT. Not that I, a happily married man, would notice such things, of course; but the gay will out. LOL We knew from a brief introductory discussion – and my inability to “squelch” my “reflexively inquisitive” ways (Jim’s teasing words – and he eagerly admitted that he loved that I had this “Jason Bourne thing going”) – that Jaan was thirty-two, had been a butler on the ship for two years since he ended eight years in the South African army and before that took his bachelor’s in economics. The cruise job was his way to see the world without a rifle on his shoulder – his words. No explanation for the segue from college to the army.

About six feet of well-sculpted muscle that showed easily in his tightly tailored vest, with his vast shoulders in his stiffly-starched white shirt spreading out of it. His torso tapered in a wicked V down to what looked like about a thirty-one inch waist from likely a forty-six inch chest. Thickly veined, long-fingered, strong, blond-furred hands confirmed the lean musculature as well, as did tightly-fitting pants which displayed bulging quads under a truly saliva-worthy athlete’s ass. Blue-eyes, short and well-styled wavy blond hair and an Armani model’s face, behind a striking jawline and a thickly corded long neck, were also visible. Oh, and a nicely-displayed full package in the front of those pants was unavoidably noticeable as well. Hey – it’s what I did for three decades – see and take note of EVERYthing. And a happily married man can look, can’t he?

I had, without conscious thought, been walking even more stealthily toward where he was, positioning my steps to where my I could barely keep him in view in the reflection of the big mirror with most of my body out of the frame if Jaan were to look into the mirror from his direction. Then I quickly, quietly moved to the inside the double doors to the bedroom and into a corner where I could see Jaan again by looking into the big bedroom mirror. From there I could see that Jaan had a second jock strap in his face, mine that time I could see from the closer distance. He was inhaling deeply and now audibly, rubbing the still sweat-sweaty pouches over his face. I knew those jocks had a double dose of sweat, among other things, from an intense fuck session when we returned from the gym – we hadn’t taken them off until we were truly exhausted and drained.

From my closer vantage point I could also see Jaan better and more of him. His hand that wasn’t clutching the rank jock straps was slowly rubbing his prominently-tented pants as he continued his deep, long breaths and rubbing his face in both jocks. I could relate to his rapture – my husband’s sweat was like heroin to me, and I craved it constantly . . . as he craved mine. The rousing fuck when we got back from the ship’s gym was catalyzed by the smell of our sweat from an exceptionally hard workout we’d had with the ship’s head trainer who joined us . . . and we all three had shown off for each other, upping our game considerably.

Then as I watched him, suddenly Jaan’s head jerked up, his eyes over the jock straps still in his face and looked directly into my eyes via the reflection. There was an expression of surprised horror on his face. He whirled around and faced me from inside the bathroom, still looking horrified and obviously scared. “I’m—“ he started, but he stopped, and his eyes went to the jock straps in his hand still, now only inches from his face, and he awkwardly moved his hand from his face, looking like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with our jock straps.

I hadn’t moved, and I didn’t, but I pivoted my head down to where his left hand was frozen against his large, bulging crotch. “You . . . ?” I prompted quietly for him to continue.

Jaan jerked his hand away, more fully displaying a long, protruding bulge in his tight black pants. “Mister Cate, I, I, I can only apologize, Mister Cate,” he stammered, glancing to the jock straps and slowly lowering them to where his hand was finally dangling at his side like his other. “My behavior is inexcusable, sir,” he proclaimed with more certainty then, not moving and held my gaze . . . and our jock straps there at his side still.

“It is excusable, Jaan,” I told him matter-of-factly. That got glimmer of hope in his eyes. “You’re a man – it’s understandable,” I continued. “But . . . “ I paused for dramatic effect, and Jaan’s glimmer of hope went to a ray of hope. “But, Jaan, I’ll excuse you on one condition.”

Jaan’s ray of hope was now a wide smile of hope, and I am certain a whirl of speculation was going on in his head. “Anything, Mr. Cate. Again, I am so sorry that I was overtaken with lust, sir.”

“The condition has two parts, Jaan. First, you strip. Naked."

My face was grave, but Jaan’s smile then turned to a smirk at hearing that. “That I will gladly comply with,” he agreed, and he carefully laid our sweaty jock straps on the counter, loosened his tie and began unbuttoning his vest. As he continued, beginning to unbutton his shirt and show amazing slab pecs dusted with blond fur, he said, “One moment,” taking his phone from the vest pocket on the counter, raising it, punching a button then holding it to his ear while with his other hand he fastened and unzipped his pants and freed his shirt. “Please cover for me, Alain? I will be a bit of time while helping a guest.” He listened for a minute and then looked up at me with a nasty grin and said, “I’m not certain how long, but maybe an hour? Merci, Alain.” He threw the phone onto the pile of his vest and shirt and toed off his shoes. “This will be between us, Mr. Cate? Or will Mr. Ellis be joining . . . ?” his grin was filthy as he pulled down his pants and well-packed boxer briefs at the same time, allowing his long hardon to bounce free.

“You won’t be an hour, Jaan, or anything close to it.” He stopped with his pants around his ankles and boxers at his knees. “Go ahead, Jaan. It’s just not what you’re thinking. You’re going to jack off and shoot your load into our jock straps. That’s all.”

Jaan looked a bit less enthusiastic, but he was looking like he was thinking it over as he finished pulling down and stepping out of his pants and underwear. His white boxer briefs had a huge wet spot where his bulbous bulge over the head had been, and Jaan noticed me looking at them – I couldn’t take my eyes off them actually. Afterward, as he reached down and lifted first one foot then the other to get his socks off, I continued enjoying the sight of his lean musculature rippling and flexing from his neck to his calves as he moved.

When Jaan’s long, hairy feet – I estimated size 12, medium width – were bare, he straightened and reached again to clutch our jock straps with one hand. His long, thin cock had a long globby string of precum hanging from the widely flared head. He returned his free long-fingered hand to his long cock and began to pump it slowly, his foreskin pulling fully back to display his slick, glistening head with each in-stroke. He had the jock straps in his face again, huffing loudly but holding my gaze and smirking.

“Step it up, boy. I have to get to dinner with my husband,” I prompted.

“You could help me,” Jaan retorted with a leer.

“Is that what you were thinking about when you were pigging out on our sweaty jocks before I caught you?” I asked, with a leer of my own. “Me – or us – helping you get off?”

Jaan’s cockhead throbbed visibly, his piss slit gaping long enough for another big glob of precum oozing into a large drop and then extending downward in a long string from his cock. He reached farther on the out-stroke and first squeezed the precum from his tightened foreskin and then cupped under the hanging glob and caught it. Then he deftly pulled back his foreskin and with the same hand rubbed his precum all over his fat purple head and went back to pumping it. I was enrapt – I’ll admit he was a beautiful sight. But then he made my breath catch when he let go of his cock momentarily and brought the hand he’d slathered his head with to his lips and licked the palm of his hands and his fingers before returning to his stroking.

My own pants were becoming uncomfortably tight, and my thoughts began to stray to his lips and mouth and tongue, thoughts of them on my stiffening cock. Then I caught myself quickly. “Hurry up,” I ordered. “Spray our jock straps with your seed. You wanted to get off with us, so do it. Pump your load out NOW!” I barked, in my still-reflexive command voice that my husband occasionally teased me about giving him instant wood.

Jaan was enjoying it, too. His strokes increased in pace, and I could see his grip tighter on his shaft.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and held it up, obviously to take a photo. Jaan’s eyes widened in fear, but I immediately calmed him, as I hit the red button to record. “It’s okay. You have my word it’s for my husband and me alone. Nobody else. Go on – enjoy the smell of our manly sweat and imagine what it would be like to breathe it in directly from our bodies as we spit roasted you and filled both your holes with our seed.”

That didn’t entirely wipe the fear from his eyes, but there was something changing in his posture and his strokes, too. He obviously didn’t mind giving a show, and the thought of actually being WITH us was getting him hotter.

“You know that’s what you wanted,” I continued, in an attempt to spur him along. And from the way his cock throbbed and his precum flow increased to a constant drip, it was working. His nuts pulling up was another sure sign we were getting somewhere. With any luck I’d barely miss getting seated in the restaurant, having only missed drinks. “You were thinking how having two strong, big-cocked men use you for their pleasures, smelling their manly scents as they fucked you deep and hard and long and enjoying the pain of pleasuring two huge cocks . . . “

I trailed off when his body suddenly tensed, his eyes rolled back, and he cried out something in some language that sounded like Dutch to me. His cock began to twitch in his tight grip like it was about to go all firehose and squirt wildly around the room if he lost his hold. And then the torrent was unleashed in thick, strong blasts that he directed to the jock straps he’d quickly lowered to the path of his cumblasts.

His cumshots were strong enough to hear the muffled impact against the fabric as I enjoyed the splatting and globbing. SEVEN strong cumblasts and four weaker ones, and at last Jaan was slumping against the door jam. His grip on our jock straps was now slack, his hand down at his side, and his other hand absently rubbed his nuts as his cock dribbled the last bits onto his boxer briefs on the floor. “Those stay, too.” I claimed his underwear as an additional souvenir.

Jaan looked up and then snickered. “You’ll give me something in return?” he grinned evilly. “Our uniform code requires it, after all,” he justified.

I barked a laugh at that but went into the walk-in closet and to the drawer where our underwear was and got him a pair of AC’s that I figured would showcase his long cock well and took them out and tossed them to him. He caught them deftly without dropping our jock straps but leaving his cock. He was still standing there, just where I’d left him, and I noticed a long trail of sweat that had run down the valley between his pecs to his washboard abs as me moved to make that catch. Inwardly I moaned with the desire to lick upward from that mounded sixpack to his corded neck to catch that sweat of his. “Those are yours, Jaan – your souvenir. And the deal is a deal – nobody will see that video but us.”

I turned and started out, but Jaan called out, “I assume you won’t want these laundered?” he stated cheekily, rubbing the cum-soaked jock strap on his face, causing my knees to weaken again momentarily. He knew damn well, because we’d already told him that he was never to launder our jock straps when he collected our worn clothes for cleaning and laundry – we “cultivated” our jocks.

Turning away before I could be tempted any more by our hot, naked butler, I called back over my shoulder, “Just hang them up where you found them . . . along with your boxers. Thanks, by the way,” I added politely from the front hall, reaching for the door and letting myself out.

I shut the door behind me and took advantage of the privacy in the short arc of the hallway at the bow of the ship. It contained only the door to our suite and a door that led to the bridge stairs, and rarely did we pass anyone there, as there was another way into the bridge that apparently was the primary entry. I adjusted my hardon in my slacks and took a breath before heading to the stairs to descend to the restaurant’s floor.

They were all already seated when I got to the restaurant. “Everything okay?” Jim asked me after he kissed my neck and inhaled deeply when I sat down next to him. His smirk made me certain he recognized the scent of my arousal.

“I didn’t get my casino card while I was up there,” I told him truthfully. “But you know what?” I contined with my own smirk. “I think after the show, instead of going to the casino, I to head back.”

“We don’t HAVE to go to the show,” Jim agreed easily, though his look was a little quizzical.

“GOD you two are sickening!” our friend Mathieu-Claude – MC, usually, teased across the table, and his best friend with benefits Lloyd elbowed him.

“They’re gay role models, ya big lug!” Lloyd chided MC. “Going on five years of monogamy and still can’t get enough of each other. Damn, what I wouldn’t give for that.”

“What, I don’t do that for you?” MC teased Lloyd and overtly plunged his hand into Lloyd’s lap, causing him to jump and fight off the advance.

“C’mon, someone bend someone over the table and just let us all enjoy it!” our straight friend Paul challenged all of us in his usually bawdy way, his voice causing several adjacent tables full of people to turn our way.

“STOP!” Paul’s wife Eva ordered him, with a stern look.

“What? I just—“ Paul started, but Eva was having none of it.

“SHUSH! Or you’ll be very lonely the rest of this cruise,” she warned with a very stern look.

“Maybe I’ll join the guys,” Paul joked, though his tone was much softer, just within our table’s hearing.

“Why can’t you be discreet, you big lug. I’m telling Nani when we see them next, and you know she can still wither you with her look of disappointment!” Eva warned, using Paul’s nonagenarian mother, his regal family’s reigning matriarch, as a threat.

We all chuckled, and Paul gave us a “well that told me!” look. Then he turned and kissed Eva on the cheek and hammed up an exaggerated, “Yes, dear.”

From there the dinner went on as planned, as did our attendance at the ships revue afterward. Jim was anxious to take me back to the room, but I promised him the wait would be worth it. When we broke from our four friends, after declining Eva and Paul’s last invitation to head to the smoke-filled casino to gamble with them – their activity of choice any time the casino was open while we were not in port –Jim clamped an arm around my neck and pulled me against him as we were walking up the hall toward our door. “I’m hoping you want to fuck me until I can’t remember my name.”

“Oh, you know I’m ALWAYS up for THAT! But first, I’ve got a video that you’ll enjoy.” That got raised eyebrows from my husband.

As I got the room key out and was opening the door, Jim reached around with his other hand and firmly grabbed my cock and balls in his big hand. “Did you make me a video when you were in our room along before dinner?” he asked into my ear and then nipped it with his teeth.

Jim’s bite went straight to my balls, and then my cock started growing more, faster than it had from his grip alone. “I wasn’t exactly alone,” I answered provocatively.

I got the door open and pulled him in roughly and pushed him against the entry wall as the door clicked shut on its own behind us. I went for his lips, fully pressing myself against him, making sure to grind my hardening cock into his. My tongue invaded his mouth and claimed it as I humped into him and he grappled with me, pulling my ass tightly so that the grinding of our crotches was maximized.

For his part Jim was growling and moaning as we sucked face and humped into each other. Our tongues dueled, and our lips and mouths claimed one another until we were both finally gasping for breath. “God. I. Love. You.” he sputtered into my ear as I rested my forehead against the wall behind him.

“You’re going to love me more after you watch this video,” I promised.

“Not possible,” he quickly refuted. “IF I loved you any more, I’d spontaneously combust.”

“You very well might CUM-BUST just from watching it,” I told him, pulling him from the wall and toward the bedroom. “C’mon, first I want you to see something.”

I led him through the living room, hall and bedroom into the bathroom and grabbed the two jock straps off the hooks. “I’ve seen those,” Jim teased me. “What I haven’t seen are these.” He had Jaan’s white boxer briefs held up by the waist, eyeing the obviously soiled spot and bringing it to his nose to sniff. “Hmm,” he commented, eyeing me. “Not my husband’s scent. Not my husband’s brand. Tented and stretched in the crotch but not enough for my HUNG husband. And my husband arrived at the dinner table reeking of sex. Hmmmmmmm,” he repeated.

I grabbed the jock straps, which were beginning to get crusty from Jaan’s big load and sniffed them. His cum was pungent and distinct from our sweat. “Mmmmmm, smell these.” I held them out to his face.

Jim looked uncertainly at me as if I was changing the subject but then he bent forward a few inches and inhaled the jocks. “Hmmm . . . familiar with this scent. Where could I have beCUM acquainted with it. Oh, right – the strange underwear I caught my husband with. I’m beginning to get a few of the pieces of this puzzle. This,” he indicated the large discolored area on the white boxer briefs, “And that,” he cocked his head at the jocks still held near his face, “Are obviously connected. The question is, what does my husband, the honorable Marine who took a vow to be true to his humble Ranger husband, have to confess?” he asked. And then he looked at the boxer briefs again. “Valentino – at least it was a high class trick.”

I bust out laughing. “Trick?”

“Well, what should I think when I find another man’s cum in our jock straps and another man’s underwear hanging from our bathroom hooks?” he teased me. “I’m thinking the video is connected – you know, like Phoenix when I asked you to fuck that guy and video it for me? Except this time I didn’t ask you. Should I be worried, General?”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!” I quickly asserted. “I didn’t DO anything! Of course I didn’t. Jesus!” I spat, a bit annoyed.

Jim reacted to my harsh rebuke after the teasing tone before. “Billy, what the fuck then?”

“Get undressed and let’s get comfortable and I’ll show you the video,” I entreated, putting my hand on his midsection comfortingly. “Then you’ll understand. I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

Jim backed off his momentary outrage and feigned disappointment. “It’s not you fucking the life out of some unsuspecting slut who wanted your huge cock?”

“Jimmy!” I chided. “I ONLY did that in Phoenix, ONLY that one time, and ONLY BECAUSE you asked me to!” I protested, realizing that neither of us had used the guy’s name, wondering if neither of us did because it wasn’t, in the aftermath of the initial thrill, the fun romp we’d thought it was at the time, “Because you ORDERED me to.”

Jim grabbed me and pulled me to him. “I’m KIDDING. Stand down, Colonel,” he soothed me, using his first nickname for me, the rank I’d had when we first met. Then he kissed me – this one very long and lingering, gentle, his right hand straying to my neck and rubbing the back of my head gently.

We parted silently and nuzzled our heads together. “C’mon,” he entreated, moving with me in his hold toward the closet, where we got undressed wordlessly. In our turned-down bed, with me thankful that Jaan had taken no liberties, left us no surprises, I suggested, “Grab a chocolate, since we don’t have any popcorn for this show.”

Jim tossed me one from his side table, which I caught awkwardly as I had my phone in my hand, ready to play the video. “Good catch! And that’s high praise from me, since I’m the catcher in this duo,” he teased light-heartedly. Obviously we were back to ourselves after a moment’s unsteady ground, and we both got a laugh out of that. And then I started the video.

“That’s the butler!” Jim exclaimed with delight as the video started. “That’s – You mean you and he – I mean you –“ Jim struggled to complete his sentence, and I let him flounder for a minute before I restarted the video. When I did, without answering, Jim’s eyes were wide.

When I started telling Jaan what we’d do to him, Jim jerked his head my way with a grin and then back to the screen, where I’d paused the video again. “No commitments. I just wanted him to get off. I’ll tell you the rest after the money shot.” And then I resumed the video.

Jim’s hand had found my cock and was fondling me, taking me from half-hard to hard-as-steel as Jaan finished himself off to the sound of my voice telling him what he wished Jim and I were doing to him. When Jaan started cumming, Jim exclaimed, “JESUS he cums like you do!” as Jaan was blasting his bountiful seed into our jock straps. When it was over Jim had my nuts in a firm grip like I liked, rolling and squeezing and rubbing them. “FUCK that’s HOT!” he said.

“Are you talking about my factory installed EQUIPMENT you’ve got a grip on or about Jaan’s hot solo scene?”

“HA!” Jim guffawed. “Both, of course! Can we watch it again?”

As we watched it again, I filled him in on walking in on Jaan with our jock straps and our “deal” that led to me videoing him. Jim’s handling of my cock and balls was more urgent as we watched Jaan’s arm and shoulder muscles pump and ripple, stroking that long cock of his.

I put the phone aside, and soon we were as breathless and getting sweaty, both of us painfully hard and wet. I got down and began to suck Jim’s monster cock, and he groaned aloud, “OHHHHHHH JEEEESSSUUUSSSSSSSSS YESSSSSSSSSSS!” as I worked his head and shaft over with my tongue and lips.

He knew I was serious about the blowjob I’d started when I grabbed his nuts roughly and yanked them HARD, the way I’d introduced him to, and he’d found the ecstasy of it. I began to suck that ten inches of his in earnest. The thing about Jim’s cock that made it easier to suck than mine was that he was about an inch and a half in circumference less than mine. So although he’s got a good half an inch on me in length, my windpipe isn’t stuffed so full of him when I’m blowing him that I fear for getting that fuckstick stuck in there and either dying or going to an embarrassing ER visit like he risks with mine.

I worked him up and down that long shaft, slathering every inch of it with my tongue, stroking behind my mouthwork, swirling around the head, teasing his piss slit and working those nuts harder and harder. When he was more than halfway there, I decided to expedite things and took the hand I’d been stroking him with and put two saliva-coated fingers to his hole and pressed in. He groaned aloud and pushed against my fingers, sucking them inside him with a greedy grunt. As I sucked up to his tip and then down until my nose was buried in his thick pubes over and over, I intensified the ballwork, and my fingers began to tease Jim’s pleasure point.

“OH FUCK is this what you want?” he gasped between jolts from his p-spot. In answer I jabbed that knob of his again in answer, this time directly and roughly with my big, blunt middle fingertip, and he cried out with need as I did. “AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Jim’s cockhead was getting fatter in my mouth, and his fuckrod was hard as iron and thickening, and I knew he was close. That made me hotter for his cumload. I yanked his nuts HARD, sucked his cock HARD and jammed his prostate again all at once. As he howled in ecstasy I felt his body go rigid with his impending explosion. I kept up the work on his p-spot, rubbing and jabbing it mercilessly, and likewise the hard-suck action on his cock – up and down, faster and more suction. But I also YANKED his nuts and gripped them TIGHT, and that’s what caused his entire body to convulse.

His mouth wouldn’t or couldn’t form words, but his cry was audible, like some keening catatonic person, as he went plummeting over the edge. And then the one convulsion turned into his entire body spasming hard and fast and his cock beginning its blasts.

I felt the first hard splat on the back of my throat and then the next and next as my husband emptied his seed into my mouth. I moved to just his big cockhead inside my lips so I could collect some of his jizz, which I so loved but also had a purpose for. I teased his slit and head until he practically pried me off his cock.

I held a mouthful of his cum and my spit in my mouth, got onto my knees and roughly yanked his legs into the air and dove into his cunthole. I spit his cum and my spit into his hole, licking and spitting and tongue fucking him roughly to get him lubed and opened.

“OH FUCK!” he cried out. “FUCK ME NOWWWWWWWWWWWW!”

I quickly rubbed my own cockhead, smearing my precum all over it to slick it and then positioned myself at his entrance. He thrust upward impatiently, and I didn’t deny him and SHOVED into him hard and deep, my pubic bone jamming into his tailbone painfully. Both of us cried out as I stretched and impaled him, and then both of us were in motion – him squeezing his cuntmuscles around my needy fuckrod and grinding up into me and me SLAMMING into him again and again. “GOD YES!” I yelled. “I fucking LOVE your tight, hot cunt!”

“USE IT!” he ordered breathlessly, fucking up into my thrusts, matching my pace and force.

“You fuckn want my seed, don’t you? You want me knock you up. TELL ME!” I taunted him, slam fucking him hard and deep, never breaking eye contact.

“GIVE ME YOUR SEED! I fucking WANT IT!” he called up to me, his cuntmuscles squeezing my cock harder and milking it.

“OH FUCK YES! Use that cunt to show me what you want.”

He did, and I fucked him even harder, pulling his ankles up and out wide and wailing on his hole, leaving him to work harder to push into me, though his fuckchute worked my cock over like a fucking milking machine.

“I. FUCKING. WANT. IT!” he growled, and with that he reached under his ass and caught hold of my tightening sac with a deathgrip and began working my nuts HARD, harder than I had his. “GIVE. IT. TO. ME!” he commanded, with an intensity that, matched with even tighter cuntmuscle work on my pistoning cock had me careening toward the edge and going over it in a loud blaze.

“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHFFFFFFFFFUCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!” I yelled as I lost all control of my body to the explosion that ripped from my nuts through every part of me and blasted out my cock nine and a half inches inside my husband’s fuckhole.

“YEAH, STUD!” he encouraged. “Give it ALL to me! Fucking FILL me!” he cried as he started cumming a second time all over himself and me in long splattering cumblasts from his jerking fuckstick.

I heard him and felt him and saw the beginning of his second climax, but my body was on its own pilot, blasting him full, spasming and writhing and lost in the ecstasy of mating with my husband. When I was finally done expelling my seed I went completely limp and collapsed onto him roughly, my chest heaving, my breathing raspy as my body struggled for air.

Coming back in stages, I was aware of our sweaty bodies together and Jim’s arms tight around me. His legs were still tight around my waist, too, holding me inside him still. I smelled his sweat at his neck where my head lolled, and it was familiar and comforting. It was home to me. Still inside him, he was slowly massaging my cock with his very talented fucktunnel’s muscles, keeping me aroused still despite the mind-blowing climax I’d just had. “You might kill me,” I huffed into his ear.

In response he only squeezed my cock harder, eliciting a loud moan from me, both of pleasure and of despair, as I was relatively sure in that moment that I was so spent that I wouldn’t be able to move for a day or so until I recharged. “If I do, you’ll go with the biggest smile on your face,” his deep voice rumbled softly in my ear. I couldn’t argue that.

I went to dismount so that I could lay next to him as my head cleared more, and I recalled the sensation somewhere in the background of my consciousness while we’d been fucking that we were being watched. I couldn’t relieve Jim of my weight, though, because he quickly clamped his hands on my ass and held me in place. “Not yet,” he said softly. “Maybe never, if it were possible for us to stay this way, the way we should always be, forever.”

I nuzzled into his neck, but I suddenly had an odd sense and opened my eyes. Without moving my head I threw my eyes toward the big wall mirror and saw an angle back into the living room and saw the reason I’d had the feeling of being watched. “MOTHERFUCK!” I cursed loudly and shot up.

“JESUS!” Jim cried out as I disengaged roughly, a loud PLOP as my cockhead came free of his cuntring.

The door to our cabin closed before I’d made the doors from the bedroom to the living room. “That sneaky sonofabitch!” I called and went and threw the security lock on the door.

When I stalked back into the bedroom Jim was smiling. “Would I be guessing right to say that we had an audience?”

“That sneaky motherfucking sonofabitch!” I replied in answer.

Jim began to laugh, and it wasn’t a moment before I couldn’t help myself and joined in. “You have to admit,” he challenged me, “He not only has good taste, but he also has a great way of one-upping you after you forced him to perform for you.”

Which gave me an idea that I’d have to give some thought to . . . another day.