Summer Swap 3.16

When Philippe was seated at the side of the bed, they worked together to get Scarlet’s languorous body up onto Philippe’s lap, sitting on him like he was a Santa Claus mall. And his dazed wife looked at Philippe with glazed unknowing; Philippe could have been a mall Santa for all Scarlet knew right now.

Hey, hey,” he whispered, patting her cheek.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she said, exhausted but amused and laughing.

“Lay back with her,” he said to Philippe.

And hearing his words piqued Scarlet’s dirty curiosity. She eyed him, sly, practically purring, “What are you going to do to me?”

He kissed her mouth, smiled back at her, saying to Philippe, “Get her facing me, lay back with her.”

Philippe did it without question, easing back to lay on the bed with his legs over the edge, taking Scarlet along for the ride, his wife lifting her knees like a polite lady, then letting them down and part when she discovered she wouldn’t be able to lay on Philippe with her legs drawn up like that. It was perfect.

He put his arms out on either side of them and kissed above his wife’s mound, on that flat plain below her belly button, watching how it made her skin flutter. She moaned and raised her knees again.

Scarlet lay on top of Philippe, the two of them like starfishes; prostrate and open. Below his wife’s exposed pussy, slick and deep pink and eager, Philippe’s massive cock lay on the bed. Sully winced, then committed himself. He picked it up.

It felt so odd in his hand. A penis, yeah, but unlike his own. An odd thing, some undersea creature that lived under rocks or in coral beds, one eye that peeped out from a nest of folds. Man, it was thick.

He levered it upward until it touched Scarlet. Touched between her legs, nestled its broad back into her puffy membranes, slick with her wet and his semen, still seeping from her. Slick with Philippe’s tongue, too.

He mushed Philippe’s penis into her pussy, listening to the wet smacking, watching her petals squirm under his turgid flesh club.

With a hand on the flat of his wife’s stomach, he guided her to tilt her pussy up where it was more receptive to teasing with Philippe’s cock. The sight of this too-large manhood touching his wife’s most sacred place drove him wild. His cock couldn’t get harder, and he had this wildfire urge in him to do this all night, to tease her every opening, to do everything they could together, to get dirtier than they ever thought they could. But for her. For Scarlet. All for his wife’s physical pleasure. But with her physical pleasure came some psychic thrill he couldn’t deny. He wasn’t selfless in this act.

The sight mesmerized him; put this incredible knot of awful desire in his belly. Philippe’s cock head emerging from the foreskin, the smooth glans appearing and slipping over Scarlet’s opening, her pretty pink flesh rippling underneath Philippe’s monster.

And it occurred to Scarlet what he was doing. She’d accepted his teasing, not knowing what he was doing, liking it, but now it hit her: her husband was using Philippe’s cock to play with her pussy. She cranked her chin to her collar, eyeing him, bewildered.

“What are you doing, baby?”

He thumbed the cloven underside of Philippe’s massive cock head and eased it into her canal. Scarlet’s expression was exquisite.

He said, “Sit up for me, baby. Sit up and kiss me.”

She’d said she wouldn’t fuck Philippe. Wasn’t interested in it. Philippe was too big, she’d said.

Now she didn’t seem so sure.

Philippe’s large fingers curled around Scarlet’s slim sides and helped her to sit up. Sully eased the angle of Philippe’s cock for her and as she sat higher it pushed inside her. Scarlet’s eyes widened, then her brow dropped and her lips curled like a snarl. “Ow, ooh,” she whispered.

“Take it easy,” he said, caressing her hair, helping her to sit straighter. Philippe was hardly inside her and he was too much to accommodate.

But Scarlet said, “Condom.”

* * *

There were condoms in the bedside table’s drawer. Philippe told him where to find them. When he turned he saw his wife a little more alert than she had been, coming out of her sex fugue, weary, and a look of anxiousness. Her hair hung down on either side of her face in heavy red curtains and her dazed eyes peered across the room under heavy lids. She licked her pink lips, waiting for his return. From her demeanor he knew she considered what they were about to do.

Philippe’s hands stroked her back. He’d pulled over two pillows from the head of the bed so he wasn’t flat on his back and uncomfortable. He was propped up, able to see the creamy pale skin of Scarlet’s narrow back. His cock was harder, not upright—its substantial bulk requiring too much blood pumping for that to happen—but off the bed and laying on his hairy thigh, right in the seam where Scarlet’s pale leg met Philippe’s.

Scarlet was so lost in thought when Sully put his lips to hers it startled her. She smiled and huffed a series of small chuckles, biting her lower lip and giving her husband a sultry look. He felt like telling her she didn’t have to put on a show for him, he was already mad in love with her and turned on like never before in his life. He presented her the torn open condom packet, saying, “You do the honors,” then kissed her again. While they kissed, Scarlet removed the greasy rubber from the packet, her mouth working on his with warm wet passion.

Sully pulled his kiss away so Scarlet could work. He watched his wife’s hands handle Philippe’s cock, getting it upright, steadying it so it wouldn’t fall against her thigh, plopping the rubber on top like a small beanie, then rolling in alternating downward strokes, struggling to make the condom fit his oversized erection. Once she got the condom halfway down, she smiled, looking up at Sully, holding Philippe’s condom-covered member against her pussy and humping against it, giving her husband a sexy look. The dazedness had dissipated from her gaze. One look at her and anyone would know she’d been well-fucked, but a brightness shone in her gaze now, an adventurous sparkle. He fucking loved it.

With no impulse to do so, his kiss darted to his wife’s, both of them intent on making out, on being with one another while they did this crazy thing. Scarlet’s arms hooked around his neck, letting Philippe’s cock go—indicating it was Sully’s turn to “do the honors.” While his tongue worked with his wife’s his hand went down and found Philippe’s trophy, nuzzled the end up against Scarlet’s entry.

Now his wife broke their kiss, leaning back and sucking on her lower lip, never looking sexier in her whole life to him. She put her hands out behind her, supporting her reclining weight on Philippe’s muscular sides, her legs parted, her sex gleaming with wet excitement, ready for her husband to use another man’s implement to penetrate her. He took a long agonizing moment to soak in this amazing woman he’d married. The pale skin, the beautiful face, the luscious red hair, the creamy freckled skin. Her nipples were hard as cherry pits, her tummy sucked in tight. But deeper than the visual were things no one else got to see or understand. A whole complex galaxy of wonderful personality traits he’d fallen in love with.

She said, “Hurry up,” and he laughed. They had a strange relationship of blunt reprimands and harsh analysis, quick to get on top of one another, a struggle for fleeting temporary dominance. Always performed with love, always done with respect. Even if outsiders didn’t get it.

“Calm down,” he said, and Scarlet chuckled, tightening her thighs on Philippe’s lap, so eager to get his cock inside her, so eager to get fucked again. He wouldn’t disappoint her.

Philippe’s wide cock on his palm, he guided the fat end into his wife’s narrow channel, luring her closer with the promise of a kiss. Scarlet’s mouth pursued his, eyes narrow and sultry, cheeks blushing, leaning closer, Philippe beginning to spread her pussy’s opening wide. She bit her own lips at the large size of Philippe’s intrusion, and that was how Sully kissed her, lips bitten closed, parting them with his tongue, finding her tongue.

Her arms slunk around his neck again and she leaned close enough for their shoulders to touch. This would mean that Philippe had entered her body. More than just stretched and teased at the foyer, he was ensconced in her pink hallway, stretching his wife wide. To hold his wife in his arms, feel her sexual tremble, all at the provocation of another man, was a heady thing indeed. It felt like his skull was a balloon on a string, the string untethered now from his body and floating up to bat at the ceiling with the inflated lightness of helium.

She gasped a s sound of discomfort into his kiss and he broke apart to watch her take another man, holding her arms, stroking his palms on her flawless skin. Scarlet’s hands fell to her thighs and stroked them. She arched her back, curled it forward, rocking on Philippe’s lap as she struggled to find a manner to take his enormous penis inside her without hurting. Philippe’s balls hung to the bed. The width of his shaft protruded up from that sagging scrotum, disappearing inside Scarlet’s body.

Her beautiful face contorted with pain and pleasure, questioning, satisfaction, and so much more. Sully stroked his cock while he enjoyed the show, standing before her and Philipe with his feet shoulder width apart.

Scarlet scoffed and moaned, and continued to struggle to find her pleasure on Philippe’s oversized organ. Sully had to stop touching himself because the sight was too erotic. He went to her instead, concentrated on her. Touching her, supporting her, stroking her neck, caressing her tits. Philippe held her steady, giving her a place to sit and explore and not fall over. Two men helping one woman. He never thought it could be so incredible. This kind of crazy sex could be addicting.

His hand stroked down her belly, went through her muff and finger pads finding her clit, brushing it free from her folds and pleasuring it. Scarlet’s nails dug into Philippe’s sides and she gasped and cried with pure, surprising, never-before-felt ecstasy. This feeling between his wife’s thighs had never been felt before. She’d never been with a man endowed like Philippe.

It took many minutes for her to become accustomed to his size, for her to be wet enough, her membranes prepared enough, her balance and posture to find equilibrium, but once she was prepared his wife began to rock back and forth, her hips rolling forward and down, back and up, Scarlet doing all the fucking, Philippe content to lie still and be the big hard dick she worked on.

When she came, she fell forward, jerking and spasming in little twitches, her face falling against his bicep, her wet lips mushing there and dragging down. He wanted to laugh at the state she’d put herself in, but instead he had to hold her and think about things that would stop himself from a spontaneous, no-hands ejaculation.

He said to Philippe, “Help me get her on her back, she’s not going to be able to sit.”

“I can sit,” she muttered.

He told her he didn’t think so and that she sounded like she was drunk and while she protested they both got her on her back on the bed. Sully told Philippe to fuck her like that, missionary. Philippe got over her like a grizzly bear and Scarlet put her arms around his shoulders. Sully scooted onto the bed, near to her head so he could watch her better. Philippe plopped his big heavy member onto her tummy and stroked it up and down. Sully didn’t know how his wife could get that thing inside her, but she’d done it. Just not very deep.

Scarlet said something to Philippe but he didn’t understand it and asked her to say it again. When she said it again, Philippe looked up to Sully, saying, “She’s saying something about the condom?”

“Yeah. She said take it off when you come.”

“Why?”

Scarlet tried to explain but sex-slurred her words. Sully chuckled.

“What’d she say?”

“She wants to see you come, I guess.”

Scarlet nodded.

Philippe’s eyebrows raised. “Okay,” he said, agreeing to it, but surprised she’d want to see that.

“She’s kinky,” Sully said.

“I’ll say.” Now Philippe reared his hips back, steadied his beefy member with a hand and eased it into Scarlet.

Sully watched with surprising lusty glory as his wife’s mouth went to a howling but silent O, her back arched and her eyes rolled back with exultant big-dick rapture.