We were just a few weeks into relationship, when my girlfriend told me that she would have to cancel her upcoming get-together with an old boyfriend of hers, as he was untrustworthy. They had broken up five years earlier, but were still good friends. His job was to promote soccer in America and he travelled across the country giving pep talks to soccer clubs and high schools, spreading the message that this was the year that soccer would finally become big. Whenever he traveled to our city, she and he would go out to dinner and a drink in his hotel room. His untrustworthiness came from his always getting into her pants, in spite her always telling him that they shouldn't have sex anymore. I was pissed off to hear this, as I imagined some brute of a man forcing her to have sex. But the more I learned, the better I felt about him; as she described him, he was a super nice, charming guy who never forced any her to do anything.
One example she told me was the time he had agreed not to have any sex with her and when she went off the bathroom, he had pulled down his zipper and pulled out his cock, which he then covered with a pillow. She didn't really notice the pillow at first. By ten minutes later, she wondered about the pillow and he told her not to remove it, which made her more curious. She tried removing it, but he wouldn't let her. When she finally pulled the pillow away, exposing his cock, he told her not to touch it. After she touch his cock, he told her not to stroke it, then not to suck it, then not to… You get the idea. I assumed he had a huge, nasty cock, but she told me that he had super friendly looking cock. I couldn't imagine what friendly looked like, but she explained that his cock was fairly long, but slender and blue-vein free and perfectly shaped.
Since it was always her choice to go along with his sexual advances, I couldn't understand why she couldn't just remain resolved not to consent. She explained that she had tried, but that she always succumbed to her desire to have sex with him, so it was best to cancel their get-together.
The more I thought about them fucking, the more I wanted it to happen. While in bed with her, I told her that she should go and that if she didn't or did succumb that would be fine with me. She was startled to hear me say this, but she was also a little thrilled. As we got closer to the special night, the understanding transformed into that I would be most disappointed if she didn't get fucked by him. She understood and agreed.
When she went off to her date, I quickly masturbated, knowing that the sexual tension would rip me apart otherwise. Then I tried not to think about what they were doing, although I knew my unconscious mind would be thinking of nothing else. When she did arrive back at my place, it was about 11:15pm and I was in bed. As she walked in my bedroom, I instantly knew that she had been fucked. She was beaming and giggly. The first thing she said was, "We did it, lots!" I got out bed and helped her undress. I noted that her nipples looked raw and chewed and that everything about her smelled of another man's cock, her mouth, her hair even. When she realized that I planned on eating her and fucking her, she froze up. This possibility never entered her head. She stammered out, "But I thought we would not have sex until tomorrow, after I bathed."
I asked why she thought that and she said to me, "Because I still have his jizz in me." I then placed my hand at her hole, probed, and pulled out a sperm covered finger, which I brought up to my face to smell. She freaked and pulled my hand away, fearing that I might taste it instead; I wouldn't have back then, as that was my first stab at sending a girlfriend off to be fucked someone else. Since I had gotten her to fuck her old boyfriend and since she was horrified by thought of me getting his cum on my cock or tongue, I decided to give up on trying push her too far. I told her that I understood exactly and that I wouldn't fuck her until the next day. I told her to take a fast shower and then join me in bed. When she returned, she told me all the details, while I fingered her to huge orgasm and I had her give me a quick hand job that took less than minute to get me blow one of the biggest loads of my life, spraying over our heads onto the wall behind my bed. I remember awakening later that night with a huge, painful hard-on, which I took into another room to relieve by myself.
The sad thing is that we broke up before his next-year visit (it was entirely my fault), as it would have been so hot to have a yearly scheduled fuck by another man. Once a year is a long wait, however, so I am tempted to say that monthly would be best, but actually once every two or three months would be closer to ideal, as these extra-sexual events should never become routine.
The important feature that I realized that night was, in these encounters with other men, how important sperm was. The semen made it real. Condom-covered sex was not quite real sex; it might have been real for the other man, but it wasn't real to me. In fact, I was always strangely happy when the other man's naked cock was able to soak in her wetness, freely exploring her vagina; if she going to be fucked by another man, then she should get really fucked, with skin rubbing against skin. And afterwards, I wanted to see, feel, smell, and taste the other man's cum. And while sperm is not actually that good a lube, I loved feeling the warm goo left behind by someone else in her pre-fucked vagina on my cock as I slowly immersed my cock into it.
One example she told me was the time he had agreed not to have any sex with her and when she went off the bathroom, he had pulled down his zipper and pulled out his cock, which he then covered with a pillow. She didn't really notice the pillow at first. By ten minutes later, she wondered about the pillow and he told her not to remove it, which made her more curious. She tried removing it, but he wouldn't let her. When she finally pulled the pillow away, exposing his cock, he told her not to touch it. After she touch his cock, he told her not to stroke it, then not to suck it, then not to… You get the idea. I assumed he had a huge, nasty cock, but she told me that he had super friendly looking cock. I couldn't imagine what friendly looked like, but she explained that his cock was fairly long, but slender and blue-vein free and perfectly shaped.
Since it was always her choice to go along with his sexual advances, I couldn't understand why she couldn't just remain resolved not to consent. She explained that she had tried, but that she always succumbed to her desire to have sex with him, so it was best to cancel their get-together.
The more I thought about them fucking, the more I wanted it to happen. While in bed with her, I told her that she should go and that if she didn't or did succumb that would be fine with me. She was startled to hear me say this, but she was also a little thrilled. As we got closer to the special night, the understanding transformed into that I would be most disappointed if she didn't get fucked by him. She understood and agreed.
When she went off to her date, I quickly masturbated, knowing that the sexual tension would rip me apart otherwise. Then I tried not to think about what they were doing, although I knew my unconscious mind would be thinking of nothing else. When she did arrive back at my place, it was about 11:15pm and I was in bed. As she walked in my bedroom, I instantly knew that she had been fucked. She was beaming and giggly. The first thing she said was, "We did it, lots!" I got out bed and helped her undress. I noted that her nipples looked raw and chewed and that everything about her smelled of another man's cock, her mouth, her hair even. When she realized that I planned on eating her and fucking her, she froze up. This possibility never entered her head. She stammered out, "But I thought we would not have sex until tomorrow, after I bathed."
I asked why she thought that and she said to me, "Because I still have his jizz in me." I then placed my hand at her hole, probed, and pulled out a sperm covered finger, which I brought up to my face to smell. She freaked and pulled my hand away, fearing that I might taste it instead; I wouldn't have back then, as that was my first stab at sending a girlfriend off to be fucked someone else. Since I had gotten her to fuck her old boyfriend and since she was horrified by thought of me getting his cum on my cock or tongue, I decided to give up on trying push her too far. I told her that I understood exactly and that I wouldn't fuck her until the next day. I told her to take a fast shower and then join me in bed. When she returned, she told me all the details, while I fingered her to huge orgasm and I had her give me a quick hand job that took less than minute to get me blow one of the biggest loads of my life, spraying over our heads onto the wall behind my bed. I remember awakening later that night with a huge, painful hard-on, which I took into another room to relieve by myself.
The sad thing is that we broke up before his next-year visit (it was entirely my fault), as it would have been so hot to have a yearly scheduled fuck by another man. Once a year is a long wait, however, so I am tempted to say that monthly would be best, but actually once every two or three months would be closer to ideal, as these extra-sexual events should never become routine.
The important feature that I realized that night was, in these encounters with other men, how important sperm was. The semen made it real. Condom-covered sex was not quite real sex; it might have been real for the other man, but it wasn't real to me. In fact, I was always strangely happy when the other man's naked cock was able to soak in her wetness, freely exploring her vagina; if she going to be fucked by another man, then she should get really fucked, with skin rubbing against skin. And afterwards, I wanted to see, feel, smell, and taste the other man's cum. And while sperm is not actually that good a lube, I loved feeling the warm goo left behind by someone else in her pre-fucked vagina on my cock as I slowly immersed my cock into it.
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