The time I [30M] ruined a trophy wife [MF]

One of the people I’ve been seeing flaked on plans last-minute, so I decided to reminisce. Hope you enjoy.

Vicky was a lot of things. Boring was never one of them.

She caught my eye on Tinder. Slutty lewds and married to boot. We matched and chatted. They were newly open and she wanted to explore.

We met for drinks. Swapped stories. I learned she had her own personal glow-up during quarantine and wanted more attention than she had been getting. This was her first Tinder date, ever. She tried to play it cool.

We met twice more. Conversations got increasingly flirty. She showed me lewds she took for her husband. I told her about my slutty adventures. She was getting curious.

I met her husband. Took her on a drive. We kissed. It had been over half a decade since her last first kiss (she was a good kisser). She started to lose control.

A little about Vicky: she had been something of an ugly duckling. After letting some pretty boys use her then scorn her, she had gotten with a bit less conventionally attractive guy (think balding since a teenager with a neckbeard) who took care of her in many ways, including financially. She was too young to realize this relationship came with a below-average cock, lack of sexual creativity, and poor skill+stamina. She grew into her sexuality. He did not.

Vicky was 5’7 with closely cropped dyed hair, an athletic tattooed body gently cushioned by the remnants of the weight she lost, perky perfectly-cuppable tits, and a juicy ass toned by years of athletic hobbies. The first time I watched her walk away from me, hips hugged by overalls, I had a feeling she would be a natural at riding cock. I had no idea.

Two weeks after we first met, she got drunk while out with some friends. Her friends dared her to hit me up. She wanted to come over to my place and make out. But once she sat on my lap and began rocking her hips against me, she couldn’t help but reach down and run her fingers along my joggers and stroke my quickly growing cock. Vicky was drunk and being impulsive (neither, it turns out, were uncommon for her). Feeling another cock in her hand sobered her up just a bit.

“You want to take a break.”

It was a statement, not a question. Instead of engaging, I asked her a real question in return.

“Everything okay? You feeling good about this?”

She was feeling guilty, though she wouldn’t admit it. She had pressured her husband into opening up the relationship. He said he was okay with it, because he was afraid she’d leave him otherwise. She’d opened things up to sleep with other men, but had told him it was to pursue women in order to “experiment with my sexuality.”

Had told him she was going over to my place. He told her “do whatever you want.” She told me as much. I don’t think he realized what he was getting into.

She laid on the couch, taking a moment. We talked idly. She felt more comfortable again. She was staring at the outline of my cock and finally relocated herself to between my legs where she resumed slowly stroking me. As I looked down into the eyes of this beautiful married woman, I knew I wanted more.

I slipped down my joggers and my cock sprang out, fully hard and throbbing. Her jaw literally dropped and her eyes got wide as saucers.

I’m not going to lie and claim to have a footlong cock as thick as a coke can. I’m comfortably above-average in length, average in width, but with a curve that seems useful for hitting certain spots and lets me punch above my thickness a little.

She was completely mesmerized by it though (months later she would ask to sketch it so I think she really was a big fan) and quite surprised at my size. She began to stroke me and snuck a hand down to play with my balls. She looked up into my eyes and smiled before wrapping her lips adeptly around my head, swirling her tongue while stroking my shaft and jiggling my balls in perfect rhythm.

Vicky was a fantastic cocksucker. And loved to put on a show. She hadn’t done this for the first time with someone in ages and wanted to give me the full porn-star experience. She moaned and slobbered and generally worshipped my dick. She seemed surprised when I didn’t cum after a few minutes (I never came that night – first time jitters I guess) because, as I would learn, she wasn’t used to dealing with stamina.

It was my turn to show off my skillset. I pushed her back onto the couch I had been sitting on and began to tease her in turn. Reaching into her shirt to flick and squeeze her nipples. Smacking her ass. Brushing my fingers over her pussy, which I could feel radiating heat even over her pants. I stripped her and bit, sucked, kissed, licked, and blew my way down to between her thighs.

She hadn’t expected things to go this far. She hadn’t waxed. I have fucked my fair share of hairy people so I didn’t care, even though she was self-conscious.

She quickly got over it once my lips had gently taken her clit between them and my tongue alternated between light flicks and slow broad strokes which caused her to throw her head back in ecstasy.

She completely lost it when I slid two fingers into her already dripping slit. I gently stroked her g-spot while picking up the pace of my tongue.

“Ohhh fuuuck what are you dooooing”

She was staring down at me, completely overwhelmed, completely helpless, a look in her eyes I’d never seen before. This woman who radiated cocky self-assurance had turned into a needy little slut.

She came quickly the first time. Her body shuddering as she screamed my name intermixed with praise and expletives. Vicky was also an impressive dirty-talker.

I slipped up next to her to gently kiss her while my fingers stayed inside of her. She just whispered “oh my god” over and over.

It had been the best head of her life, I would later learn.

I was dirty-talking with her (quite easy to do – she was a shameless slut at heart) while biting her ear when she felt my hard cock pressing against her hip.

“I bet you’re wondering what that would feel like inside you, aren’t you?”
“…You’re right. I am. Fuck. I want your cock inside of me so badly.”
I made myself throb against her. She squirmed in beautiful agony.

Her friend had given her a condom as a half-joke. She hadn’t thought she would need it. But she was desperate to have me inside of her.

“…can we fuck? Please? I really want to ride your cock.” She reached down and began stroking me.

I was a little surprised. Even if we had gone further than expected, this was a big step.

“What would your husband think?”

“He told me to do what I wanted. And I want to ride your cock. Now.”

We fumbled for the condom in her bag. I laid back, rolled it on, and she hopped on top and lowered herself onto me.

Her eyes had gotten big when she saw my dick. They were much bigger now it was inside of her. Mine probably were too. “Oh my god, you’re so fucking big, it feels like you’re going to tear me in half.” She was incredibly tight, and shallow enough that I hit her cervix as I began thrusting up into her. She moved her hips in rhythm with mine, bracing herself against my chest and leg with her arms and rode me like a champion, her perky tits bouncing with every thrust, letting out little gasps, moans, calling my name, or just swearing.

I wish I could tell you she came all over my cock from internal stimulation alone. But she was not gifted with easy internal orgasms. We once fucked for nearly two hours straight and though she got close at times, it’s never a barrier she was able to cross with me.

But she got damn close, and only needed to reach down and stroke her clit lightly while I grabbed her hips and slammed her harder onto my cock before I felt her whole body tense up as she came much harder. She knocked her head back and let out a combination of a scream and a moan before collapsing on top of me, a shaking sweaty mess.

This would begin a six month long tryst, during which she realized exactly how unsatisfied she was with her sex life with her husband. We did some wild things (she made me cum twice in succession while sucking me during a meeting, we went to a sex club, fucked in public, she gave me road head, got very kinky) and occasionally we’d share how hot it was that she was married and I was fucking her in ways her husband had never dreamt of doing.

A few months after we had broken up, the two of them split. I sometimes still feel guilty for how many times I’d ask her, with my hands on her hips and my cock buried deep inside her:

“Whose cock is better? Mine or your husband’s?”

“Yours”

“Why?”

“It feels like you’re going to split me in two”

“Who fucks you better?”

“You do. God you fuck me the best.”

“What do you think about when you’re with him?”

“How much bigger you are, and how much better you feel in me.”

I’d feel a little bad at times, the guy was genuinely nice. One time he came home early from work and almost caught us fucking, then bawled his eyes out like a baby. Another time he got drunk and begged me to teach him how to give head, which is how I learned he had found out during heated arguments with his wife some of the ways he was lacking in the bedroom.

But I never felt bad enough to say no when she’d be on her way home from work and ask to stop by for a quickie because “I’ve been thinking about your cock all day…”

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/x41irc/the_time_i_30m_ruined_a_trophy_wife_mf