For anyone who didn’t see the first post: I showed my friend nudes of my wife recently. He told me he wanted to fuck her. I said yes. She went along with it. I invited him over. She answered the door in a tight crop top and tiny booty shorts with nothing underneath. I watched him fuck her on our couch until he pulled out and came in her mouth.
I loved every second of it. Still do.
But today has been… different.
I woke up hard, replaying everything. She was already in the kitchen making coffee like it was any other Sunday. Kissed me good morning. Asked how I slept. Acted completely normal. I almost started to think maybe the night before had been this intense, private thing we’d just quietly put away.
Then I later noticed her phone has been going off more than normal today.
I didn’t say anything at first. Just watched her. She kept checking it every few minutes. Small smiles. Sometimes she’d bite her lip. Once she actually laughed under her breath and turned the screen away when she noticed me looking.
I couldn’t take it anymore. She was on the couch scrolling, and I sat down next to her.
“You talking to him?”
She didn’t even try to hide it. Just turned the phone so I could see.
It was him. Their thread was long.
He’d texted her this morning: Still thinking about last night. The way you looked when I came in your mouth.
She’d sent back: I keep replaying it too. My jaw was a little sore this morning 😌
Then a photo. Not full nude, but close. Her in the same crop top from last night, pulled up just enough to show the underside of her tits, no bra, nipples hard. She said - Wore this again today. Thought you’d like it.
He’d replied with a dick pic. Hard. Same cock that was inside her less than twenty-four hours ago. Fuck. I want to see more.
She’d sent another. This time the booty shorts, pulled to the side, bare pussy, two fingers spreading herself. Still a little swollen from you.
I felt my cock throb reading it.
She watched my face while I scrolled. “You mad?”
I shook my head. “No. Show me the rest.”
There was more. A lot more.
Him telling her how good her pussy felt. Her admitting she came harder with him than she had in a while. Him saying he wants to come back. Her saying she wants that too.
At one point she sent a voice note. I played it. Her voice low and a little breathless: “I can still taste you. I keep thinking about how you grabbed my hair and just used my mouth. I want you to do it again.”
I handed the phone back, heart pounding, cock fully hard.
She looked at me. “You still okay with this?”
I nodded. “Yeah. More than okay. Keep going.”
She smiled, that same little smirk from the photos I showed him before, and started typing again. A few seconds later her phone buzzed. She showed me the screen.
Him: Tell your husband I said thanks for sharing. And tell him I want another round soon.
She looked at me, waiting.
I took the phone, typed back myself: He says you’re welcome. And he’s already hard thinking about watching again.
She hit send, then climbed into my lap, still holding the phone, and kissed me while it kept buzzing with more messages from him.
We stayed like that for a while, her grinding slowly against me while she kept texting him. Eventually she pulled back, eyes dark, and said, “We should send him new pictures.”
I didn’t hesitate. “Let’s give him some.”
She stood up, pulled the crop top off, then pushed the booty shorts down and kicked them aside. Completely naked in the middle of our living room in the middle of the afternoon. I grabbed my phone.
First shot: her standing in front of the window, full frontal, tits out, nipples still hard, one hand resting lightly between her legs. Same pose as the original photo I’d shown him months ago, only now she looked freshly fucked and a little smug about it.
Second: I had her turn around, bend over the arm of the couch—the same spot he’d bent her over last night—and look back at the camera while she spread her ass with both hands.
Third: her on her knees on the rug, looking up at me, mouth open, tongue out. I told her to hold the pose while I stepped closer and rested the head of my cock on her tongue for a second so it was in the frame.
I sent all three to him from her phone, no caption, just the photos.
His reply came fast.
Fuck. You’re killing me. When can I come back?
She looked at me, still on her knees, waiting for my answer.
I took the phone again and typed:
In two hours. Come over.
Three dots appeared almost immediately.
I’ll be there.
I told her to take a shower.
While she was in there I went to our bedroom, opened the top drawer, and pulled out the purple lingerie set she’d bought last year and only worn once. Sheer purple bra with little lace details, matching thong, and the garter belt that clipped to the sheer thigh-highs. I laid it out carefully on the bed—bra on top, thong beneath it, garters and stockings to the side—so it would be the first thing she saw when she came out.
I could already picture her in it. Could already picture the look on his face when she opened the door.
So now it’s late afternoon on the day after. She’s still in the shower. The purple lingerie is waiting on the bed.
I’m writing this while I wait, cock already hard again, counting down until she takes his dick again.