How I Acquired My Taste For Fucking Other Men's Wives - Sex Stories

How I Acquired My Taste For Fucking Other Men's Wives

... may just have to fuck your arse!” “And do I get to fuck you afterwards?” “You want my cunt, do you, pretty boy?” Something in Emily’s voice made me wish I could see her. “Maybe I’ll let you have it, maybe not.” “Please!” There was a soft thud, then Emily said, “Get into position while I get my strap-on.” I stole away as swiftly as I could. I assumed that Emily kept her strap-on in the bedroom, but I couldn’t be sure. Besides, whatever was about to happen, I wouldn’t be able to see, and Greg’s subservience repulsed me. But Greg’s and Emily’s games also intrigued me. When I wasn’t hard at my studies, I spent a great deal of time preoccupied with thinking about them. I tried my hand, unsuccessfully, at a little more spying, but mostly I thought that there’s nowt queerer than folk. Masochism just isn’t in my nature, and the way Greg apparently allowed Emily to humiliate him was something I just couldn’t fathom. I was rather more impressed with Emily, who rose several notches in my estimation. She wasn’t really my type – not a lot to grab hold of, if you get my drift – but her attitude was certainly one I could identify with. Have your cake and eat it. Maybe nothing would have happened had I not made a new discovery. I find that often in life events unfold as if they were meant to be, with very little intervention on our own part, and so it was now. It was a Sunday, and I was at a bit of a loose end. Greg and Emily had gone out for the day. They said where, but I forgot it just ...

... as quickly. I had the house to myself, and roamed it, for something to do. I checked out the bookshelves, thinking there might be something I fancied reading, but was in that peculiar kind of mood where nothing took my fancy. I’ve never been that keen on films, but now I decided to check out the collection of videos, thinking I might idle away a couple of hours in front of the TV. Again, nothing caught my fancy. But there was one tape that attracted my interest, purely because it was unidentified. Everything else was either a well-known film, or identifiable as being from Greg’s and Emily’s trip to Venice the previous year, or something like that. Being who I am, I couldn’t resist slipping the tape into the machine to find out what it was. What I saw almost blew my head off. It would take too long to describe everything I witnessed on that tape. Suffice to say that it was all Emily. Well, all Emily and a sequence of men, none of whom were Greg, who was spectacularly absent – perhaps he was behind the camera, but if he was he kept quiet. I saw Emily being spitroasted, Emily enjoying a triple penetration, Emily sucking on a tree trunk of a black cock, Emily with spunk raining down on her from multiple cocks. I’d seen a bit of porn in my time, but none of it could rival this. “Emily, you perverted little whore,” I murmured to myself, but in truth I rather admired her. I sat in Greg’s favourite armchair and wanked myself silly watching Emily being taken front, back and sideways; ...