Stable Of Studs

I knew long before we married that if I wanted to have Agnes’s love I would have to share her body. After all, I had learned to accept her screwing around during our courtship. Why expect things to be any different when we were married?

The first time she came to bed with another man’s semen matting her pretty bush, I confronted her. She confessed, and after a long, sometimes stormy discussion, we agreed to an open relationship, or anyway a half-open one, with no ­secrets between us, and it has worked perfectly well for us. She’s gotten what she needs, and her erotic descriptions of her extramarital adventures have given me hours of pleasure. (I describe the relationship as “half-open” because I don’t feel any need for “outside contact.” I get all I can handle from my wife’s accounts of her adventures.)

For years Agnes talked about how exciting she thought it would be to be the only woman in a hunting camp with a bunch of horny men. Finally I told her I knew how to make her fantasy a reality if she really wanted it to happen. Her only fear in doing this was being alone in the camp with strangers, but I assured her I could be there without anybody knowing I was her husband.

It took some careful planning, but eight months later we flew into a city in the mountain states where we each rented a four-by-four truck and drove to the hunting camp where we were booked for two weeks, with Agnes using her maiden name, which is the name she uses on her driver’s ­license and used for her hunting license, with our home address, while I used my business address, which I checked and was assured is perfectly legal.

We shared a loving kiss at the airport. She left first while I found a bar where I would have a couple of drinks to give her a head start. The deal was that if we were to keep our secret while she lived out her fantasy, I would have to try to seduce her myself if I wanted a piece of her ass.

It was late afternoon when I reached the hunting lodge, and saw Agnes’s rental truck parked in the lot. I was shown to my room by a good-looking young man named Ronnie, who helped me pack in my gear.

He said, “I hope you aren’t kept awake all night by the headboard banging on the wall of the room next door. You aren’t going to ­believe the hottie that came in all alone this afternoon. She’s a little thing, not much more than five feet tall, but with big tits and the tightest ass I’ve ever seen. She’s married, but she told me her husband has been in Africa for 60 days, so her little pussy has to be ripe for a ­little attention, and I intend to get some of it.”

I settled in, then went down to the bar, where I saw my wife surrounded by a dozen or more men. She was wearing a tight-fitting sweater that displayed her 34C bust and tight jeans molded to that ass I know so well. I mingled with the group, introducing myself and learning more names than I could remember. ­Agnes’s hand was hot when Ronnie introduced her to me, a sure sign she was ­indeed in heat.

I found a seat at the end of the bar and took stock of Agnes’s stable of studs. There was an older man ­sitting next to me who was also observing the mating game, as one after another the men tried to capture ­Agnes’s attention. The older man introduced himself as Roy and asked why I wasn’t trying to jump her like the others. I told him I was outnumbered and besides I’m a happily married man.

“I am too,” he said, “but I’d jump her in a heartbeat. I learned a long time ago to bide my time and let the young men bust their nuts, and then pick up the pieces. You know she isn’t any cherry, and a little traffic only makes a pussy better. Believe me, son, there isn’t any better ass than one that’s been well used and you get to enjoy what is left.”

We ate family-style at a long table, then had a couple of after-dinner drinks ­before one by one the guys went up to bed. When I saw Agnes head upstairs with a guy named Drew, about 23, I knew he was about to get some fine pussy from my 39-year-old wife. Roy came over and whispered, “That young guy won’t ever be able to satisfy a hot woman like that. I would bet someone else could nail her later, but I’m too tired to wait up until she wears young Drew out—well before sunrise, I’m guessing. Well, I’m going to bed. If you stay up, let me know what happens.”

I was in my room a few minutes later, in time to hear the headboard next door hammering the wall for about two minutes before I heard a man groan and I knew my wife was taking a creamy load in her cunt. My own cock was so hard that it hurt, but I had promised myself I wouldn’t jerk off, so I didn’t touch it.

I heard voices, and found that by putting my ear next to a crack in the crudely built thin wall between the rooms I could hear them quite plainly. I undressed and shut my light out and discovered there was light coming in through a knothole about 18 inches down from the ceiling. I carefully moved a chair I could stand on and look through the knothole. Hot damn! I had a perfect view of my wife sucking her stud’s cock while caressing his balls.

Drew wasn’t packing nine inches but had a respectable six thick inches, and Agnes seemed to be enjoying it. I watched as she took the whole thing in down to the root, then backed off slowly, leaving it standing up straight, saliva-soaked. She moved quickly to straddle him, then lowered her fresh-fucked cunt onto his pulsing prick. They fucked for 40 minutes, switching positions frequently. She was facing away from me while he humped her like a bitch in heat, finally blowing his wad again. He rolled off and collapsed beside her with her still on her knees, her cute little ass in the air. I had a clear view of her ravished cunt and saw her lover’s come ooze from her onto the bed.

I had only seen Agnes screw one other man, but that time she’d known I was watching and was somewhat ­reserved. This time, being unaware that I was watching, she really let loose and put out like she always did with me. She didn’t just let Drew fuck her, she fucked him back—like very few women will do, because they’re too uptight about sex.

Agnes slipped on a robe and left the room. She went straight across the hall into one of the four shared bathrooms, and returned in a few minutes. She combed out her hair while her friend took a turn across the hall, returning with two sodas. They sat down on the foot of the bed and talked while they drank the sodas.

Before long Drew set the sodas on the dresser and they began making out like teenagers. Soon Agnes’s robe was gone and he was nursing on her swollen nipples. He kept at it until she twisted away and dropped to her knees facing him. Her head disappeared in his lap, causing him to throw his head back and moan.

A few minutes later she scrambled up on the bed and lay down on her back with her legs up and spread. He stood up and turned to look down at her, and I saw his cock was again standing tall. She moaned while he slowly slipped six inches of meat in her horny cunt.

My legs were about to give out, so I went to bed and fell asleep listening to the headboard knocking. They were screwing again—or still?—when my guide knocked on my door and told me to get some breakfast and be ready to go on an orientation tour in an hour. I knew it was important to take this tour to be ready for opening morning the next day, so I reluctantly dressed and went downstairs while my wife’s bed continued to hit the wall.

When we stopped back at the lodge for lunch, I didn’t see Agnes, but she was the talk of the table among the other hunters. Drew told everybody that she hadn’t ever gotten to let loose because her husband had watched her like a hawk from the day they married and she intended to take this opportunity to explore her sexuality. He described her as being the most exciting woman he ever bedded, saying she had an unbelievably tight pussy.

It was obvious, when Drew told the others how easy she was, that they were anxious to get their chance to nail her them­selves. He simply whispered that he wanted to fuck her, and she said, “I think I’d like that. Let’s go.” Listening to this talk certainly didn’t ­reduce the aching desire in my loins! So I was relieved when we left the lodge to continue the tour.

That evening I was sitting on the porch having a beer when Agnes and her guide came in. One of the guys said, “Hell, it looks like Bill is staking his claim on that hot piece of ass.” I knew Bill from when I’d been there several years before. He owned and operated the hunting lodge and guide service. I knew that he was married, or at least he was back then.

As Agnes and Bill came up the steps, I said, “Hello, Bill,” and was surprised when he said, “Hey there, Graham, it’s good to see you again. All your arrangements okay?” I said everything was fine, and he said, “Have you met Agnes?”

“Yes,” I said, “last night. How was your tour, Agnes?”

“Great,” she said, but right now she wanted a hot shower, and she disappeared into the lodge. When she was out of sight, one of the men asked Bill if he’d nailed the lady up on the mountain. He said no but he’d gotten a pretty good view of all there was to see. I had no idea what that meant!

On my way down to dinner I managed to talk to Agnes alone in the hallway. I asked her about Bill’s “pretty good view” remark, and she said, “My, word travels fast here.” She told me hurriedly that Bill put the move on her up on a ridge where they could see for miles. She let him skin off her jeans and panties and was ready to fuck him, but he wanted to eat her pussy first. She told him no, because she hadn’t showered after having sex, but he insisted on doing it, saying he liked his pussy natural, not all douched and flowery-smelling.

“My God, Graham,” she said, “I’ve never had anyone eat me out the way he did. I came in about three minutes, and I was dying to have his cock in me when we were interrupted by two game wardens driving up. Bill went and talked to them while I got my pants on. The wardens followed us back down the mountain, so we didn’t get to finish what we started, but I felt Bill up while he drove. His cock was still hard, and felt big. Did you know I let a guy pick me up last night?”

As I nodded, we were joined by Stanton, a fellow hunter, interrupting our conversation. We were told that dinner would be served at six and that we should enjoy the open bar. I chose to have a beer, since it wasn’t four yet and I didn’t want to get hammered. I saw how much Agnes was enjoying having all these men flirting with her—before, during and after dinner.

About eight, she selected a mate for the night, and the rest of us watched with envy as the two of them walked out hand in hand. One guy said, “I knew my buddy’s giant schlong would get him a shot at that.”

Shortly after, I went to my room, arriving in time to see the look on Agnes’s face when her lover dropped his pants. His friend was right about the giant schlong. It looked to be wrist-thick and maybe nine inches. I only wished I could see the expression on her face when he eased that beauty in her, but the moan that escaped from deep inside her throat seemed to express an immense pleasure that I hadn’t heard in all our years togeth­er. I watched her fuck that outsize cock until I couldn’t stand on the chair any longer. I fell asleep listening to the steady rhythm of the headboard hitting the wall.

It was like that for five more days and nights. Every day Agnes went hunting with Bill; every evening she came back to the lodge with a smile on her face; and every night she spent fucking Pete, the man with the big dick—and nearly every other man retired to his room with a hard-on.

Pete’s group was only booked for one week, and departed on Saturday while those of us who’d booked two-week hunts were out. That night the mating dance was on again, and for the next week my wife lived out her dream, screwing a differ­ent man each night.

The last night Agnes took Roy, the older man I’d talked to the first night, upstairs during cocktail hour and returned alone just in time for dinner. I was about to break away and go up to my room when she walked directly over to me and said, “Don’t you like women, Graham?”

It took me by surprise, and I just looked at her for a moment, then said, “I love women. Why?”

She winked and said, “Well, you’re about the only guy in the lodge that hasn’t hit on me.”

I winked back and said, “I was just waiting for my number to come up.”

She reached for my hand and said, “Your number is up, stud—if you don’t mind being the third gentleman to be with me today.”

Once in her room, I embraced my wife for the first time in two weeks, kissing her with all my pent-up passion. She returned my kiss with the same passion, then thanked me for letting her live out her fantasy. It had been one long gang bang with a men of all sizes and shapes of cocks.

I said I was happy for her but I really needed to make love to her if she wasn’t worn out. She kissed me and said, “I’m never too tired to make love with you, sweetheart.”

I stood motionless as she undressed me, raising one foot at a time for me to step out of my pants, leaving my hard-on waving in her face. I nearly blew my wad when she took nearly the whole thing in her mouth. She had been stroking it with her magic mouth for about a minute when I pulled her up, saying my first load was going in her pussy.

I lifted her sweater over her head, freeing her braless breasts, then undid her tight jeans and pushed them down below her ass. I laid her across the dis­hev­eled bed, where I noticed a large wet spot and numerous dried come stains. I ­removed her jeans, then her soaking-wet cotton bikini panties. Her snatch was wide open and saturated with semen from her lovers. The musky scent of her pussy and come almost overwhelmed me—her entire bush was matted with drying come.

She saw where my eyes were focused and said, “That Roy surprised me. He dropped the largest load of all, but said he hadn’t had any pussy for six years. He was so weak afterward, I had to help him to his room before I came down to eat.”

I couldn’t wait any longer, so I just dived on top of her. My cock was instantly immersed right up to my balls in her slushy box. I lasted all of 30 seconds before blowing my load! Whew, did I ever feel better.
My cock stayed hard as Agnes told me all the lurid details of her two weeks of lusty adventures. I told her that I’d used my imagination each night after seeing her come up with a man. What I really I wanted to hear about was her days with Bill.

She told me how on open­ing morning she bagged her trophy, then thanked him by fucking him right afterward on top of his coat on the frosty grass. She said, “You wouldn’t believe the size of his cock, honey. That Pete had a big one, but Bill’s was the biggest I’ve ever had, and he fucked me at least three times every day, sometimes much more. Two days we went into town and he got a room where we fucked all day. I’m not kidding you, he had his cock in me all day both days.”

I never did tell her that I watched her every night (she’s finding out now if she happens to read this!), but I listened intently later when she told me the details, and when what she told me exactly matched what I’d seen with my own eyes, I knew she’d always been hon­est in the past when she told me about her adventures.

Agnes and I fucked all night, but in the morning she disappeared with Bill for three hours. Just as I was preparing to leave for the airport in my rental truck, she reappeared and drove off in her truck.

On the flight home Agnes whispered, “Feel my pussy, honey. Bill fucked me twice this morning. Did you know he’s divorced now, and his wife was the only woman he was ever with until I gave him some pussy? He said he would like to meet me if I could ever get away from my husband for a night or a few days. I told him that could probably be arranged, with some planning.”

I knew then that my wife would be hauling Bill’s giant log again soon.

—G.H., St. Louis, Missouri