It started on a Tuesday night after too much wine. My wife, Lena, was on top of me, her thighs gripping my hips, when she leaned down and whispered right against my ear, "You know that guy from the bar last month? The one with the big hands? I keep thinking about what his cock must look like."
My whole body went tight. I didn't tell her to stop. I just pushed up into her harder. She felt it and kept going.
"He was tall, remember? Probably hung like a fucking horse. Thick veins, heavy balls, the kind that slaps your ass when he fucks you from behind." Her voice stayed low and steady while she rocked on me. "I bet it curves a little, hits that spot inside me that makes me scream."
I grabbed her ass and pulled her down harder. She laughed, a soft dirty sound, and kept talking.
"I'd suck it first. Get it all wet and shiny. Run my tongue under the head until he grabs my hair and shoves it deeper. You like hearing that, don't you? That your wife wants another man's cock in her mouth?"
I came so fast it embarrassed me. She didn't stop moving until I was done, then she kissed me slow and said, "Next time tell me what you want me to say."
Next time came two nights later. She was on her back, legs open, and I was inside her already when she started again.
"Remember that construction guy who fixed the deck? Arms like tree trunks. I bet his cock is the same. Fat at the base, tapers a little, heavy enough you feel it even when it's soft. I'd let him bend me over the kitchen counter and just take it. No warm-up. Just one long push until my pussy stretched around him."
I groaned and she clenched around me on purpose.
"You'd watch, right? Sit in that chair and stroke yourself while he fucks your wife stupid. He'd go deep, balls slapping, and I'd tell him how much bigger he feels than you."
I didn't last long that time either. She came with me, fingers on her clit, still murmuring about the size and weight of some other man's dick.
After that it became our thing. Every fuck had a story. She'd pick a man we'd seen somewherea waiter, a neighbor, some random guy at the gymand describe his cock like she had already seen it, touched it, taken it.
One Friday she came home from work already wet. She pushed me onto the bed, climbed on, and started riding before I was even fully hard.
"There was this new client today," she said, breath catching as she sank down. "Late forties, expensive suit, kept looking at my legs. I bet his cock is long and smooth, the kind you have to work to fit all the way in. I'd have to relax my throat just to take the head."
I reached up and pinched her nipples the way she likes. She moaned and kept going.
"He'd fuck me slow at first, make me beg for it harder. Then he'd flip me over and pound me until I couldn't talk anymore. You'd be in the corner, listening to every wet slap, watching his cock disappear inside me over and over."
She came hard that night, shaking, still talking. I followed right after, the image she painted burned behind my eyes.
We started doing it even when we weren't having sex. She'd text me from work: "Thinking about that barista's cock again. Thick and dark, probably tastes clean." I'd get hard at my desk and text back one word: "Tonight."
By the time I got home she'd be ready. Sometimes she'd already have her fingers between her legs, describing how she'd let some stranger use her while I watched.
The night she went all in was the best. She had me on my back, riding slow, and she started naming three different men.
"The tall one from the coffee shop would take my ass. The guy at the gym would fuck my mouth. And the neighbor? He'd get my pussy. All three cocks at once, stretching every hole. You'd sit there and watch your wife get used like a fucktoy."
I came without touching myself, just from the words and the way she squeezed me. She kept moving until I was soft, then slid off and licked me clean while telling me how the neighbor's cock would taste mixed with hers.
We don't do it every single time anymore, but when she wants to push me over the edge she always knows what to say. She'll lean in close, voice low and filthy, and start describing some other man's cock like it's already inside her. I never get tired of hearing it. The dirtier the story, the harder I fuck her, and she always rewards me with more details until we're both wrecked and satisfied.
That's our secret now. Her mouth telling stories about other cocks while her body stays wrapped around mine. It works. It always works.