I finally met Weldon. Beginning last Thursday, he’s staying at our home through some time Monday, July 4. I suppose I could make this short by just writing about the sex between him and my wife since then. But all that happened before and since didn’t happen in a vacuum, so this may take a while to explain. Most can be copied and pasted from my personal journal.
I have the time. Weldon and my wife left around 2:30 this afternoon in Weldon’s SUV, with blankets, pillows, and whatever else was in my wife’s smaller duffel bag. They’re at a remote area alongside a lake where my wife once stayed overnight for a foursome in an RV owned by Jean, our pharmacist friend who has since moved away, Beau, and Jack for a night’s foursome. Their intent is to return sometime this evening. The guy can fuck longer and more often than anyone I can recall. I suggested they take a tent in the event of rain, but neither thought that was necessary.
I had hoped to be home earlier Thursday but was delayed at the office almost two and a half hours later than intended. When I arrived home at 3:15 p.m., he and my wife were in our back yard. The hot tub on our patio was bubbling and steam had begun to form on the glass wall facing the back of the patio. Weldon leaned his back against the stone wall that surrounds our property and talking with Gigi. He wore khaki cargo shorts and a short-sleeve, khaki pilot shirt. Gigi was attired in a blue sleeveless pullover and short white shorts. Spotting me at the patio door, they waved and came inside. Gigi said they were about to sit in our hot tub for a while. I thought that to be a good idea.
Gigi’s description to me was that of a guy about 6’1” with brown hair and brown eyes. She told me that he’s “self-effacing” and talked little about himself. She had said he prefers concentrating on letting others talk about themselves. I found all that to be true. I had to ask him to learn more about his background and interests; as a salesman as much as an ad man, I do the same with potential clients and others. But, from what I then knew, I had the mental image of a shy, bashful office worker with a low-key personality. Most often when she offers descriptions of men who have been fucking her, my assumptions are close to being right about their personalities and appearance when I get around to meeting them. But this time, I found Weldon to be nothing like I assumed.
My assumption of a shy, thin office worker was immediately erased. The guy looks more like a prizefighter. I’m reasonably fit but some might consider me puny by comparison. His long arms are massively muscular. His large head and prominent jaw sit atop a neck I would guess at seventeen inches; by comparison, my shirts have a rather average 15 1/2” neck size with a 33” sleeve. The hair on my legs is thin and appears bare of one doesn’t look closely; his powerfully built legs, chest, and large arms are covered with moderately thick, dark fuzz. The guy is an ideal example of a kid’s hero on a TV cave man show. I know why men are attracted to my wife but didn’t need to again ask my wife about the reasons for her physical attraction to him.
We removed our clothes and crawled into our hot tub. I glanced down to his cock. His dick was then at its normal softness, but its casual length is close to mine when fully erect. Gigi seemed somewhat evasive when I asked how “big” he is but said not as large as I seemed to imply at the time. My dick throbbed and began to swell as I imagined Weldon and my wife together in heat. I don’t know if either of them noticed but hoped they had not. I would later learn that, when stiff, his member doesn’t deflate easily. Few men who have fucked my wife
have demonstrated that considerable advantage. Most penises, like my own, begin deflating almost immediately after ejaculation.
I had heard Weldon talking on our phone’s speaker with my wife. So I knew his voice was deep and clear but, listening to him now, his tone sounded much like that of a sports announcer on a local radio station. Naked, the three of us got into the bubbling waters, and his conversation centered on me, asking me first about the nature of my job. Gigi sat next to him, across from me. Her breasts floated like balloons at the top of the water.
My wife is usually the most talkative of all but not now. She smiled a lot and looked mostly at him in obvious admiration. He and I dominated the conversation, each of us asking about the other. The only time he talked about himself was in response to whatever I inquired. Years before he moved to our area and landed a job with the City government, he had been an oil field worker while also going part-time to a private technical school in North Dakota. I didn’t get around to asking him or my wife just what brought them together as close friends but intended to bring that up that later. I thought about asking how he came to develop and maintain his physical conditioning, but the timing didn’t seem right.
Gigi extended an arm toward him, and his laid in her direction. I suspected she was stroking his cock. Judging from the direction of his arm, I think he laid a hand on her leg beneath the bubbles. It seemed clear they hadn’t had sex before I came home Thursday afternoon. I thought it more likely they had embraced, kissed, and generally fooled around but waited until I was home before fucking.
About fifteen minutes after we got into the hot tub, my wife decided she has enough. Weldon stood first to get out, but Gigi turned about, curled her fist around the circumference of his now-stiffened cock and opened her mouth to engulf it. I was taken aback as I gazed at his staff. While not as large as my wife’s boss, it’s impressive. He’s somewhat tanned but his waist to the top of his thighs is relatively pinkish. I’m guessing his dick is about a seven, perhaps a bit more. The veins running along its length are similarly pale but prominent as blood pumped through its firm dimensions. I shuddered as I stared at his muscular profile. The thought raced through my brain that my wife has discovered the equivalent of a prized stallion. Her lips closed over his broad length and her head bobbed eagerly. He groaned as she sucked. After a minute or so, she pulled away. Grinning broadly, she looked up at him, then stood and led him out of the tub by a hand.
She said to me, “We’re going to the bedroom,” but in afterthought offered him a beer or soft drink. She pulled two Hawaiian beers from the fridge. I told them I would be back in a minute or so and walked back to our bedroom. The sunlight spilled through the blinds, making the room too bright for intimate sex. I closed the blinds, shut the outer electronic storm shutters, and plugged in our red-tinted nightlight into a wall socket. When I closed the adjoining bath’s door, the room was limned in a dim, crimson glow. Without the night light, the room would have been in almost total darkness had they shut the door leading to the hallway. “Perfect,” I thought, and then returned to the kitchen to join them. I chose a lime soda instead of the beer they were drinking at the kitchen table. Each sat across from the other and I sat alongside Weldon.
I had asked Gigi not to admit she allows me to have sex with a limited number of women and advised her not to be open about her own experiences with other men. She promised only not to say anything about me and my partner Samantha or any other women. Weldon inquired how our agreement came about that allows Gigi to have sex with him. I nodded toward my wife and said, “Maybe she can tell you better than I. It wasn’t easy to convince her it wasn’t some trick for me to have sex with other women. I just wanted it for her if she met the right guy.”
Gigi hasn’t yet told him about her other men. She is still considering whether that’s a good idea. She said, “Des bugged me for months about that. I thought he had either lost his mind or lost interest in our marriage.” She went on to reveal her affair with a coworker, told here at the outset when we began this history at OHW. Interestingly, she didn’t mention that was almost seven years before, so one could assume it was a somewhat recent event. Weldon said he could understand it; he had a somewhat similar experience with another woman but didn’t know until near the end of the five-week relationship that she and her husband often had sex with other friends; he added, “I guess you could say they’re swingers.” He wouldn’t divulge the woman’s name but said she holds an important position in our city. He first met her professionally. Her position requires frequent contact with City planners, the group for which he’s employed. Their relationship ended because of their swinging activities. He said perhaps their friendship could have been ongoing if had “a woman to trade” for the couple’s swinging activities. He surmised her husband’s attitude about the woman’s sexual interludes with Weldon was similar to mine, but it’s clear they prefer sex with couples, perhaps in groups.
The only other time he has fucked a married woman was a decade before; the woman is a public-school teacher whose husband had either lost interest or the ability to have sex with her. She broke it off out of guilt; now, he only occasionally runs across her in public. Gigi had mentioned to me he has an uncommon tendency for honesty about many things. His response to our inquiries added some verification to that.
Gigi then told me Weldon had already told her all that in greater detail but had not mentioned it to me. She preferred that I hear it from him. I agreed that made sense but said with a grin, “She told me there were a few things about you she wanted you to tell me. I think the real reason is that she enjoys creating mysteries for me.” Weldon chuckled at that.
When they had drained the last from their bottles, Weldon stood from his chair. I had been looking across the table at Gigi, but his firm dick stood out prominently and straight at eye level at my side. To avoid either him or my wife noticing I was staring, I didn’t turn my head; instead, I rolled my eyes aside to examine his dick from its tip to its base. It pulsed and bobbed like a curtsy. I gulped at the thought of my wife’s apparent anticipation for his member soon to be entering her cunt. I didn’t want either to notice I was staring, but my wife looked straight at me and smirked as she caught me looking. I blushed when she then grinned and said to Weldon, “He’s admiring your manhood.” Weldon chuckled and turned aside to me. His dickhead was then two and four inches from my face. He said, “I appreciate your attitude about everything. I wish the three of us could have met long before now.”
I felt somewhat sheepish at being discovered. To change the subject, I said, “Before you two go to the bedroom - I’m curious as to how you first became close as friends.” He placed a hand on my bare shoulder and said, “Actually, it was you. When we first met, my wife told me you were a newspaper reporter and you’re still a writer as an ad man.”
If any reading this has never been in exactly that position, it may be difficult to imagine it’s discomforting to have a dick that close to your face when having a conversation. It occurred to me as a fleeting thought he expected me to take it in my mouth but that probably never crossed his mind. His responsive comments were interesting and also explained how he became a bodybuilder.
When a young guy, Weldon was a tall but scrawny kid who grew up in a rough neighborhood. Street and field fights were common among his school’s young thugs. He avoided being a victim by staying apart from most. One of his few friends loaned him a novel, “Conan the Barbarian,” he says is actually a series of short stories that had been published years before in pulp magazines. He was fascinated by the fictional character and wished he had the writing talent to produce anything like that. About the same time, he came across an article about the author Robert E. Howard. If the article was true, Howard had - like Weldon - been raised in rough and tumble oil field territory. And like Weldon, Robert E. Howard was a skinny kid. He began working out to build some muscle. Soon, Howard’s physique began to develop far better than he expected. He ultimately became a boxer for a time before writing stories of Conan, sports figures, and similar he-man tales he sold to newspapers and magazines. Eventually, Howard became one of the toughest and richest men in his small Texas town. The bummer in Weldon’s story was that the author also suffered from bouts of depression. In the mid-1930s committed suicide at the young age of 30. Ironically, his writings achieved their greatest success after he was no longer alive. I was aware of the fictional “Conan,” but until Weldon told me, knew nothing about the author of those stories.
That biography instilled in Weldon the desire to develop his physique at the beginning of summer vacation from school. Then motivated, Weldon began running daily and exercising at his home in the trailer park where he lived with his parents. When school again began in the fall, students took notice of his bearing. The “bad guys” left him alone, and his newfound confidence attracted a lot of girls. What he never achieved was his desire to be a writer, but he admits he didn’t earnestly pursue what it takes to develop the skills. When my wife told him I was a former reporter who published a few short stories for extra income and am now an advertising writer, his interest was piqued.
Soon after my wife and Weldon first met at a civic club, they were meeting up again for occasional lunches and he phoned her often. The sexual connection was a natural enhancement to their friendship. He went on, “You’re the reason we became friends." He told me all of that in no more than a couple of minutes. When he finished his brief account to me, Gigi got up from her chair to stand alongside him and said, "That’s what I said I would prefer you to hear from him rather than me.”
As Gigi led him down the hall to the bedroom, I followed as he went on asking me questions about my job. Walking behind them. I imagined him lifting my 5’11” tall wife onto his shoulder as he strode ahead of me; but, of course, he didn’t do that. I stopped and the door and told them I would leave them alone and would sleep in the guest room when night approached. He embraced my nude wife and kissed her deeply.
I turned to walk away but stopped when out of their sight and placed my back against the hallway wall to listen and, when possible, peek from the doorway. After about a minute, I heard him groan. I glanced into the dimness from the door jamb. The bed cover was rumpled at the foot of the bed . She leaned above him, enthusiastically sucking his cock. He emitted a deep hum of “Mmmm,” as she gulped his dick like one’s mouth on a nippled bottle. I leaned against the wall, grasped my warm tool, and stroked slowly to avoid premature ejaculation. My chest heaved and felt as if it tightened as rigidly as my dick. Seconds passed and my wife let out a sobbing cry of “Oh, oh, yeah.” I thought perhaps they’re already fucking.
Peering around the doorway again, I spotted him mounting her. Her legs were splayed as her heels dug into the mattress. Their eyes locked as his cockhead parted the mouth of her pussy. Gigi squealed as he inched deeper into her tunnel. Her voice was like a whisper but a bit too loud to be just that as she cried, “Yes. Oh yes.” She sobbed, “Oh god,” at the erotic effect of his slow, measured strokes, I couldn’t look away but maybe it didn’t matter. She has told me that when she and another are fucking, even if they know I’m just a few feet away, it’s as if I’m not there. All that matters is the two of them together, nothing else exists. Her legs raised to wrap about his hips and the two were then united as one. Sighs and moans filled the room’s warm air. She uttered, “You’re like no one I have known.” His response was inaudible, but he then groaned as he slammed into her. Gigi screamed in the fervor of their fucking. Her hips rotated beneath him, and she wailed, “It’s so fucking great.”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I crept to the hallway bath and shut the door behind me. My stiff dick ached for relief. My hand felt warm, but my cock was so hot the touch of my flesh seemed cold. I fondled and stroked until my hand warmed, then cam-stroked with a fury. My imagination centered on Weldon’s sizeable cock tightly in my wife’s cunt, their minds on nothing more than the pleasure each gave to the other. Her screams reverberated from down the hall. I then knew he was giving his all to her, and she would give her all to him. My hand flew back and forth like an out-of-control metronome. I knew I would probably cum within a minute.
For a moment, I could hear their flesh slap rapidly. I thought of his cock as a race car’s piston and recalled that when a piston moves out of its sheath, it creates a vacuum. The fleeting thought of his broad stalk causing a vacuum in my wife’s channel sent me over the edge. I reached for several sheets of toilet paper to catch my eruption. My semen roiled through my loins and rocketed through my cock, spurting strongly into the tissue. I flushed the paper and leaned breathlessly against the bath counter.
Stumbling back to the hall and our bedroom, I covertly watched another two or three minutes. He rolled my wife to her knees and guided his boa-like member to her cunt. She braced her arms onto a pillow as he fed his dick into her opening. She whimpered, “Oh fuck, yeah. It’s so good.” He said, “I love fucking you,” and she responded with a nervous giggle, “Me too.” I remained hidden to avoid detection and listened to their exchanges and excitation. Her cries of “yes-yes” turned to “Uh-huh, uh-huh” and intimate squeals of how much she was loving it all.
Soon, he grunted loudly, saying he was about to cum and asked could he again cum inside her. My wife stuttered as she cried out she always wants him to cum inside her and “I want all of you.” His extended groans and her ear-splitting scream of satisfaction signaled he was ejaculating into her cunt. After the moment of silence that followed, I crept away to the living room and awaited them to join me. That didn’t happen for some fifteen minutes. I heard erratic snips of conversation from our bedroom but couldn’t make out whatever one was saying to the other.
When they finally came out to the living room, the three of us dressed and I offered to take them for an early dinner. We ate at the restaurant's furthermost, umbrella-covered, outdoor table. Four tables closest to the restaurant’s frontage were occupied by other diners but far enough away that we could talk without being overheard.
Weldon said he had asked my wife if he could now be her best friend, but she told him that’s too high a bar; she had responded, “My husband is my best friend, but you and I can be ‘friends’ for sure.” He went on, “So what if I’m both your and her
second-best friend?” Gigi giggled at the remark. I said, “If that’s good for her, it’s good for me. I’m pleased it’s all worked out well.” Gigi placed a hand on his and said, “Me too.”
Recalling his casual remark about the husband and wife who are swingers, I said, “You mentioned the relationship with the married woman might have lasted if you had a willing partner to participate. I guess you now have one.” I asked Gigi what she thought about that. She pondered a moment and said, “Well, maybe once or twice.” She has been in threesomes and foursomes before as told in these pages. I added that it was just a thought that crossed my mind if the two were interested in pursuing it. Weldon seemed in thought for a moment, then said to Gigi, “Think about it. If you’re agreeable to it, I could give her a call. The woman knows others who she feels are interesting and desirable sexually.”
My wife said her only concern is her position at the bank and in the community she doesn’t wish to compromise that with people who might talk to others. Weldon doesn’t see that as a problem. He said, “That woman also would have a lot to lose in reputation if others gossiped about her sex life. When I said she’s well known, that’s an understatement. She’s very,
very well-known and wouldn’t associate with anyone who might have a loose tongue.” Gigi nodded in understanding and said, “Okay, we can talk about it. Under those circumstances, maybe we can include my husband.” And turning to me, she said she’s sure I would like it. Our conversation turned to other topics, and it wasn’t mentioned again.
Last night, he filled her cunt again. The guy’s dick stays stiff longer than anyone I know. I slept in the guest room, but our marital bedroom door was locked shut and I couldn’t hear their joys of fucking or sneak around to watch. Gigi typically is asleep between 9:30 and 10:00 each night and up at 5:30 a.m. We had dinner at our home at which she told me not to wake her until nine this morning. I knocked on our bedroom door at the appointed time and told them I would have breakfast ready in a half-hour. They came out in robes, and I half expected Gigi would be exhausted. Instead, she had a bright expression and an interestingly satisfied smile as we sat down to eggs, turkey bacon, grits, and coffee.
I offered my opinion it must have been a good night for both. Gigi grinned and said, “It was a fulfilling evening and morning.” I assume “filling” would have also been an appropriate description. Weldon agreed and thanked me for being a good host. Gigi hadn’t told him about our basement-survival shelter, which is no surprise for the reason we have told only a few about it. But she took him down for a tour around eleven this morning, and they were fucking there for up to another hour. So far, it seems like a non-stop orgy for the two of them. I had jerked off again last night while they were locked in our bedroom but didn’t have the stamina to repeat that this afternoon.
She phoned when they arrived at the lake to tell me they were okay and would phone when they were ready to come home tonight. At Weldon’s suggestion while we were talking, she asked if I would like to join them this evening. I told her, “Maybe, if I’m not a distraction. We can decide when you get home.”
That’s where it all stands for now. I doubt much will be that different over the next couple of days but if it is, I’ll let you know. So far, I’m pleased, somewhat amazed - and yes, even thrilled when he again plants his sizeable dick in my wife’s eager slit.
~ Des
