Brett's luggage was like peering into the kit of a sleaze ball. Clothing, of course. A lot of it was silk, or expensive— especially the dress shirts. Bright colored polo shirts— whites and reds... even a pink one. I imagined him strutting around with a popped collar, and nobody calling him out for looking like a douche bag. He was the sort of man that everyone kissed ass to.
***
"I want you..." Alex moaned against Brett's mouth. His hips bucked in and out. Her body adjusting to his enormous size, able to accommodate him easier without much effort. He melted into her.
Her hand caressed his face. They kissed again. Her eyes were partially open now, assessing her lover's face, confirming to herself that he wasn't just a dream. "I want you," she repeated again.
"Well you got me, babe," he moaned and sank his length into her pussy again. His butt flexed. Her feet stuck out above the water behind his back.
"No," she panted. "Not just tonight," she gasped, the water intensifying her pleasure.
"Every day?" he smiled. Their noses nuzzling together. His lips came back to hers again for another greedy kiss.
"Every day," she echoed back. "Every day..." she started to buck her hips against his unrelenting thrusts. His own hips picked up the pace as the water sloshed around them. They were fucking faster and harder. My wife's brain on over drive, just focused on Brett and the sexual desire that grew and grew. "Every day," she moaned louder. "Fuck me every day."
***
Beyond the clothes in Brett's bag, I found his menagerie of sex toys, adult DVDs, and novelty bullshit from his party. Curiously, I discovered a pair of panties stuffed at the bottom of the bag. And while I couldn't be certain, I was almost positive that they did not belong to my wife. This raised some questions. The stripper's? Or did Brett have some girlfriend or wife that we didn't know about?
***
"Are we ever going to tell him?" Brett moaned against my wife's mouth. Her arms locked tighter around his neck, clinging to him.
She gasped, trying like mad to catch her breath in a world of pleasure and lust. "He'll find out sooner or later," she moaned.
Brett pulled her upright, lifting her against his thrusts and bouncing her on his cock as they drifted to the middle of the Jacuzzi, spinning like lovers in a fairy tale. In the midst of the bubbling pool, they kissed like mad. Brett used my wife like a cock sleeve, lifting her up and down again and again, with his cock planted firmly inside of her.
***
"His phone," I slapped myself on the forehead. Where was the prick's phone? Maybe he had something more useful on his device. I looked sharply around the living room. We'd all brought electronic gismos along. I saw my laptop on the charger. Alex's phone was in the bedroom. There, on the end table was Brett's phone— plugged into the wall and charging.
***
"You like the thrill," Brett teased. He let his hands wander up to her boobs. She took over bouncing on him, clinging tightly to his body and leveraging herself up and down. He found her nipples and gave them a pinch, using his thumbs to tease them. She shuddered. Her nipples especially sensitive. Bolts of pleasure jolted through her.
"Shut up and just fuck me," she moaned, pushing his mouth down against her chest. She arched her back and thrust her tits into his face. He didn't need much more coaxing than that. He started to suck eagerly.
"I'll bet you want to keep this secret going for as long as possible... because you get off on knowing that he has no fucking idea. That he could catch us at any time..." Brett couldn't let it go, even as he taunted her around a mouthful of her tits. He pinched her nipple between his teeth and she jolted on his cock. This only drove her to fuck harder. She hung on. The muscles in her smooth tummy were hard and solid as she worked her body against his.
Her only reply was the sharp inhale exhale of her fast breathing.
"You like the taboo of sneaking around..." He pressed.
"Ohh god," her voice barely a squeak as she whimpered.
***
The background on Brett's home screen was a black and white of Johnny Cash holding up the middle finger. Of course it was, I mused in annoyance. But the dumbass never password protected his phone. He was either really stupid or really cocky. I went right to his photo albums. They were selfies mostly. I groaned in disgust— most were pictures of Brett in various states of undress. He took a lot of dick pics. And I'll bet he sent a lot too. Not that I blamed him. If I was hung like him, I guess I would show it off a lot too. That thought did not make me feel better. I went into his text messages next...
***
"Ohhhh god," Alex shut her eyes and bit down on Brett's shoulder as she climaxed against his thrusts.
"You want to have your cake and eat it too," Brett moaned, fucking her rougher. "You want to have a hot stud to sneak around and fuck... but you also want to have a sweet pushover husband in your life."
Alex wasn't able to form words. She tilted her head up to the ceiling and threw a hand over her mouth to stifle her screams of pleasure. It was the most intense orgasm yet. The most powerful of her life. Her toes clenched into fists, her pussy quivered against Brett's monster phallus. The hot water made it impossible to tell just how wet he was making her, but they both knew she was soaked. Even as that orgasm subsided, another one was right behind it...
"You don't want money," Brett panted, narrating her thoughts as he pounded her. "You don't even keep him around to feel good about yourself after you act like a whore with someone else..."
He pulled her hair. And her second orgasm turned into a chain. She'd never had a multiple orgasm before, and was now riding a roller coaster of pleasure, hanging on for her life...
"You get off on walking the edge of breaking his heart," Brett moaned. "He's just a plaything in your love life, and nothing more. Or at least he is now."
In the tub, my wife's orgasm went on and on...
***
Brett had quite the collection of women callers. "Quite the harem," I remarked under my breath. Number after number texting him. He traded a lot of dirty pictures. I'm ashamed to say, I got a little lost in the number of tit pics alone that he received. I was envious. These women were gorgeous. I get it... so was my wife, but if you could see some of the girls who were fawning over this man, I wondered what the hell he could possibly want with my wife. I stood there, falling down a porn hole— my cock erect from the sext messages I was combing through. I was trying to decide if this made me feel better or worse. The man had options— that told me that my wife had been just another notch on his belt. As long as he was here, he would probably try to fuck her more, but once this ordeal was over, he'd go back to man-whoring around the country, amassing a list of lovers. But that also infuriated me. These girls probably had a million guys who would give anything to date them or treat them right... and like all women, they went right for the douche bag who would treat them the worst. And my wife was buying into the bullshit too! My marriage and our life was just a game to this jerk.
Then I found something more interesting. A message from a woman named Marissa. It was a photo of a very pretty brunette in a bridal gown. But her neckline was hiked low, to reveal a pair of large breasts spilling from the A-line. Her dress pulled up to show an obvious lack of panties. The message read "For the 'Best man'— open this when you're alone or if my future hubby passes out. Just a little gown fitting for the big day. Hope you like it. Can't stop thinking about you!" Brett's reply was a douche baggy thumbs-up emoji, followed by a coy "Me and the boys in the bridal party are making you something special... but I have a feeling I know which contribution will be your favorite..."
It took me a moment to piece together what it all meant. When I did, I was mortified. Marissa was his buddy's future bride— the one who he had arranged this whole bachelor party for. And she was sexting with him. The two-timing whore was fucking Brett behind her fiancé's back, and sending him teasing photos in her bridal lingerie. The reference to making her something special was that line-up of rubber casted dildos that Brett had shown us when we first arrived. He insisted it had been a gag-gift, but now I wasn't so sure.
I had figured out that the guy was a total scumbag! It wasn't hard to connect the dots. I'm not a moron...
***
Brett barely gave my wife a moment to catch her breath. He set her down, even as the last lingering trembles from her orgasm shook her body. Her knees were weak and she sagged into the water up to her neck.
Brett stood upright, most of his body emerging from the water like Gorgo rising from the sea. The water ran off of him. He reached down and held his massive cock out to my wife's face. She didn't waste a single second and wrapped her lips around the head. She eagerly blew him right then and there. Steam rising off of Brett's wet body, called forth from the chilly air. She bobbed her head, and twirled her fist, stroking him into her mouth. Her tongue danced on the underside of his swollen head. She mouth made desperate eager sucking sounds. And soon Brett's hips began to thrust to meet her head bobs. He fucked her face for several minutes, before the cold got the better of him.
Then he grabbed her and bent her over the rim of the hot tub. "Yesss," she purred. "Take me, Brett," she peered over her shoulder at him and shook her shapely ass, tempting him to take her from behind. "I'm yours."
***
I'd seen enough. I shut the phone and replaced it on the charger. I needed to show this to my wife. I needed to get it all out in the open. But I couldn't just go running out there, waving the evidence around— after all, it wasn't proof that they were fucking. Just proof that he was not above trying to steal her from me, and was probably going through the motions of doing it— how naïve I was to assume his progress wasn't as far and fast as it actually was.
I decided that I needed to keep my cool, bide my time, and pick my moment to reveal what an asshole he was. Like George Costanza, with just the right snarky come-back, I needed to wait until Brett set himself up— made some snarky comment or subtle flirtation at Alex. Then I could, very cool and composed, come back with something like "What? Did you already get bored with the other wife you stole, so you have to steal mine?" I frowned. I didn't like that one as much. I'd need to workshop it a tad.
But regardless, it was probably unwise to not leave my wife alone with this heartless man-slut for much longer. I headed for the patio door.
As I pushed it open, I paused and glanced down at myself. "Oh... yeah," I muttered under my breath I was still semi-erect in my trunks from the dirty pictures on Brett's phone. That wouldn't look good, going outside with a boner. I took a second to tuck it up into my waistband, before stepping back out onto the porch.
I found Brett and my wife seated side-by-side in the hot tub. Both were lounged back, looking relaxed, like they were at peace with the world. A lazy haze of steam and water particles swirled like a vortex in the air above the water's surface. Both of their cheeks were bright pink— probably growing chapped from the chill in the air.
Alex opened one eye. "All better?" She asked.
It took me a moment to remember my bathroom pretext. "Oh, uh yeah. False alarm I think."
I hurried to the water and splashed into it before the cold could send me into a fit of shivers. I sank into the water with a pleasurable sigh. As I settled in, my foot nudged something on the floor of the tub. It felt like some discarded article of clothing, but a moment later, the current swept it away and was gone.
I had no clue what it was at the time. Nor did I have any clue that even as they sat beside each other, my wife's hand was slowly pumping along the length of Brett's cock. She was stroking him.
She gave him a sideways glance, and a cruel little knowing smile. She bent his throbbing flag pole of a dick at me and continued to work it.
Even though she was stroking him, he had not yet shot his load. She was working her hand as subtly as she could beneath the water, trying to coax his massive load out of those big heavy balls.
To her surprise, he shooed her hand away. As devious and perverse as Brett was, he wasn't going to cum in the hot tub, no matter how much he enjoyed the thought of all of us basting in it— me not aware. He had other plans.
But he wasn't going to let me cock block him and Alex. Not now, not ever. He was going to get his orgasm. And he was going to make sure I knew it...
__________________________________________
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