We all have our favourite things.  They change as we mature.  I never liked red wine or blue cheese, now I just love 'em.

Currently, my favourite sex act, is sliding into a just-fucked cunt.  Ironically, you can't actually feel it.  Whether the cunt is naturally juicy or has been lubricated, and with what, can't be detected by your cock.  It's all in the mind, the most important sex organ of all.

The sheer perversity, the delicious dirtiness, of knowing that it's another man's spunk that has prepared the way is simply mind- blowing.  I can remember with astonishing clarity the first time that it happened.

I had been married to Angie for about ten years, we were both nearing forty, with me in the lead by just a couple of weeks.  We have no kids, by choice.  We both had good, well-payed jobs, a nice house and no debts.  Not even a mortgage, all paid off.

We had a life that would be the envy of most people and a sex life to match.  I had been 100% faithfull since marriage and I am pretty sure that Angie had too, although we had both sowed a considerable amount of wild oats before marriage.  Why would I stray?  I had a beautiful wife, innovative in bed, often initiating things and refusing nothing.

We lay in each other's arms after a spectacular session during which Angie had orgasmed countless times and I had given her every last drop of my precious essence.  Could it get any better?

"What are you thinking about?"

She asked.

"I was thinking how lucky we are and wondering if it could ever get any better."

"And?  Could it?"

"I can't imagine how."

"It would be fun to find out, what is your wildest fantasy?"

"Oh the usual male fantasies I suppose, two women at the same time, having a much bigger cock, being able to produce limitless amounts of spunk."

"It's quite big enough for me," she said.  "But I suppose more spunk would be nice."

"How about you," I retaliated.  "Apart from more spunk, what do you fantasise about?"

"Being gang-banged."

She replied without hesitation.

"Not a big cock, several.  That would guarantee more spunk."

Amazingly, my filleted cock was showing signs of interest.  I invited her to allow her fantasies to run riot, to describe in detail how it would be.

"I would be naked but blindfold," she said softly.  "I would be led into a room where fifteen or twenty rampant strangers, also naked, were waiting, cocks primed and ready, to fuck me repeatedly.  No condoms and no holes barred.  Every drop of lovely spunk would be pumped into me or onto me until they were spent."

By now, I had a raging erection.  She mounted me and impaled herself onto it, she was as wet as I was hard. She rode me slowly, leaning forward so that her fine tits, nipples like spikes, brushed me.

"Then it would be your turn," she husked.  "You would wash away their spunk with yours."

Where I managed to find it I will never know, but I managed to shoot a few more drops of cum into her before we both fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, I awoke with my usual morning-glory tenting the duvet.  I was alone, I could hear the shower running as Angie washed away the evidence of last night's excesses.  I considered joining her, it was not a work day, but instead wrapped my hand around my cock and stroked it, thinking about last night's conversation.  I found the idea of watching my wife, whom I love with every fibre of my body, being fucked by another man, incredibly arousing.  Could I? 

Over dinner that evening, I said;

"Would you really like to be gang-banged."

"Unfair question," she replied.  "There is no right answer."

We continued with the meal.  She said;

"Would you like to watch me being repeatedly fucked?"

"That also," I replied.  "Is an unfair question."

"Humour me."

She said.

"I would pay to watch."

I said, with absolute honesty.  We finished the meal in silence, but later in bed, she sucked my cock as nicely as ever before climbing aboard it.

"How do we make it happen?"

She said as she gently rode me.

"I don't want to be farmed out to just anybody."

I had an idea how, but I said nothing, instead filling her with what she apparently wanted more of.

I used to play squash and my regular partner was a man, James, about my age.  We would have a drink together afterwards.  Another bar regular was a particularly nubile young woman who was the object of carnal thoughts in many of the men, including me.  One evening, she sashayed past, leaving a trail of 'come-and-get-it' perfume in her wake.

"You would."

Said James.

"I most certainly would," I agreed.  "But I'm a happily married man.  Would you?"

"I have."

He said quietly.  What!  I knew that he had a partner, but they were not married.

"Does Abi know?"

"Of course," he said.  "We have an arrangement."

I didn't press him, I knew him well enough that he would tell me anyway.

"We were getting stale," he explained.  "We talked about separating, but decided to try what we call 'An open relationship' first.  We fuck others.  We also joined a very exclusive club that exists purely for partner sharing.  That was four years ago.  It worked."

And that was now, my idea how.  After our next game, I tentatively asked James if the club was looking for new members.  He said that there was quite a high turnover, the lifestyle does not always suit people.  He would make enquiries. 

The call came about a week later, could we come for tea?  We were given an address in a nearby leafy London suburb.  It was our audition, crunch time.  On the day, as we were getting ready to go, Angie asked;

"Do you think that sex will be involved?"

I replied that it was a racing cert.  She dressed accordingly.  I wore a suit but no tie.  The house was set back from the road, distinctly des res, but not ostentatious.  I did not drive in, instead parking just beyond.  Angie gave me a questioning look.  I explained;

"This is our last chance to back out, driving in there will be like crossing the Rubicon, nothing will ever be the same.  Yes or no?"

Angie stared out of the windscreen for a long time before replying;

"If we don't go through with it, not knowing will do more damage than anything that might happen in there. Drive in."

Catherine and Paul were a bit older than us, a very attractive couple.  We were shown into a comfortable lounge overlooking a large garden.  We sat side by side on a large sofa, Paul sat in an armchair opposite, Catherine went to make tea.  At first it was small talk, only when Catherine returned did the conversation get serious.

 "So you find the idea of joining our little circle attractive?"

Said Paul.  I replied that we both thought that it was time we tried some new experiences.

"Like group sex."

Added Catherine.  Slowly, the questioning became more direct, addressing Angie, Paul asked;

"When did you last have sex?"

"This morning."

Answered Angie truthfully.

"Would you like to tell us about it?"

Said Catherine.

"No."

Replied Angie.  The room fell silent, teacups paused in mid-air.  Angie broke the tension.

"If we are accepted and if we decide to join, it will be a new chapter for us.  A new book in fact, but our private lives will remain private, another book.  So no, I will not share details of that book."

I cringed.  We had not talked about this.  Paul and Catherine looked at each other, then Paul said;

"We understand and respect that, it's brave of you to voice it, but it's as it should be.  We would like to write the new book with you.  Are you happy to talk about sex in general terms, about extra-marital experiences perhaps?"

"There have not been any, I have not had sex with anybody other than my husband since marriage."

Another silence, was she frittering our chances?  She continued;

"I enjoy sex of any kind, before my marriage I would fuck and suck anyone that I fancied, Alex was one of them.  When we realised that we were right for each other, we became monamorous.  Our sex life together was and still is, intense and satisfying, we both now believe that our ties are strong enough to hold, whatever we do.  That includes what I suppose would be hobby-sex, quite distinct from marital love."

She must have rehearsed this, she was showing just how strong she was.  I was bursting with pride and love for her.

"Have you ever had sex with a woman?"

Asked Catherine. 

"No."

"Would you?"

"Yes."

Paul chipped in;

"Have you ever had two men at the same time?"

"No."

"Would you?"

"I would love to.  Not just two, my greatest desire is to be vigorously gang-fucked."

"Including anal."

"Most certainly."

Paul sat back in his chair.  Catherine leaned forward in hers and said softly;

"Is your cunt wet?"

"Dripping."

"Show us. Let us see what you would bring to the party."

Without hesitation, Angie stood and undressed, stepping out of her dress to reveal her carefully chosen underwear.  Off came the bra, revealing her fine tits, nipples bristling.  Her knickers followed.  She stood proudly in just stockings and suspenders, thumbs hooked in the suspender belt, challenging Paul.  He licked his lips and said;

"I think they can stay on."

Angie shrugged.  She parted her cunt-lips with the middle finger of her right hand, held it up so that our hosts could see just how wet she was, before licking the finger clean.  My cock was straining to escape.  Catherine addressed me, her voice was husky;

"Is your cock hard?"

Was she kidding?  I nodded.

"Show me."

She said.  Not, 'show us'.  As she was well aware, Paul's attention was firmly on Angie.  I don't think he would have noticed if I had two.  I undid my pants and pushed them down, allowing my cock to spring free like a Jack-in-the-box.

"Take everything off."

Commanded Catherine.  She helped until I was self-conciously naked, cock standing proud.

"Touch it."

Said Catherine.  I wrapped my hand around it and pulled back the already stretched foreskin, revealing the shining purple tip with the inevitable tear in it's single eye.

Paul told Angie to turn and kneel on the sofa.  As she did so, he pushed down his pants revealing his erection.  A decent size I thought, but mine was both longer and thicker.  He positioned himself behind Angie and felt for her cunt, spreading it.  Catherine moved for a better view.

This was it.  I was about to watch the woman I loved, fucked by another man.  And I was desperate to see it.  Paul lodged his tip at her entrance and slid home in one smooth movement.  It was done.  Paul made a few exploratory thrusts then settled into a rhythm, reaching round to cup Angie's tits as he fucked her.  I couldn't resist a little wank of my own cock as his plunged in and out of my wife's willing cunt, but was careful not to have an accidental release, I was hoping that my pent-up cum would be pumped vigorously inside Catherine. 

Paul grunted as he came.  In my mind's eye I could see his thick white spunk spurting into Angie's cunt.  My cock was painfully hard.  Paul withdrew, still erect, his cock shining with their combined fluids.  Angie's cunt gaped lewdly, a trickle leaked out to drip onto the sofa.  She stayed in position, awaiting further instructions. Catherine's voice disturbed my concentration;

"Your turn."

"What?"

"Now it's your turn, fuck Angie while she's wet."

Oh my, not what I was expecting, but I so much wanted it.  My cock needed no guiding, it knew the way well.  I slid easily into her.  Her cunt felt hot, but that was just my fevered imagination.  Her wetness was not.  Paul's fresh spunk was coating my cock, and my balls as they pressed against Angie's portal.

I fucked frantically, I wanted to displace every drop of Paul's cum from Angie before replacing it with my own.  It was a primal, animal fucking.  I cried out as the spunk blasted out of me.  Suddenly, I was conscious of my audience.  I pulled out, now spunk was gushing from Angie's ravaged hole.  Catherine was standing, closely watching, Paul had stripped off the rest of his clothes and was sitting back in his chair, wanking.  This was not over yet.

Catherine, still fully dressed, handed a box of tissue to Angie and then took my wet, half-hard cock in her hand.

"Does this big boy do encores."

She asked.  I assured her that it did.  She nodded and said;

"Come with me, let's leave then to it."

I followed her upstairs into a bedroom, my cock wagging before me.  Catherine quickly stripped.  She was very fit.  A poor second to Angie, but still eminently fuckable.  She wore hold-ups.  Not as cock stiffening as suspenders, but still effective, the thick welts at the top of her thighs drawing attention to, but not hindering access to, the prime target.  Her pubes were totally hairless.  She dropped to her knees,  placed a hand on each of my hips and sucked my straining organ into her mouth.

She sucked with great skill and enthusiasm, before long I could feel seconds boiling in my balls.  She seemed to sense it and released me.  She climbed onto the bed and layed on her back, knees up and apart.  With the fingers of her left hand, she spread the lips of her cunt revealing the inviting, moist pink flesh inside.  I knelt on the bed, leaned forward and placed a single kiss on her smooth mound, then opened my mouth wide to enclose as much of her vulva as I could.  I pushed my tongue deep inside, swirling it to collect her nectar before turning my attention to her unusually large clitoris.

I wrapped my arms under her thighs and up to cup her tits, thumbing the nipples as I feasted on her cunt.  She came quickly and powerfully.  Thankfully.  I was very close to disgracing myself.  I quickly scrambled up her body, she took my cock in both hands and guided into herself.  Once embedded, I was able to regain control.  This was only the second woman I had fucked in almost ten years and I was determined to make the most of it.

I fucked her to a second orgasm before giving up the struggle and releasing a powerful volley of my finest, as deep inside her as possible.  I lay on top of her, letting it soak, but supporting my weight on my elbows.  As I softened and slipped out, I showered her with kisses, not just her face but her luscious tits.

"I think that you two will fit in very nicely," she said.  If you are willing, welcome to the club.  Shall we see how Paul is looking after your wife?"

She dressed, my clothes were downstairs.  Both Angie and Paul were also dressed.  I pulled on my own clothes while Catherine went to make more tea.

It was dark by the time we left, it was mid-December.  The first part of the journey was spent in silence, each of us deep in thought.  Eventually, I asked Angie how she felt.

"I'm fine," she said.  "But I am seriously in need of a good fucking.  By you."

"Can it wait until we get home?"

I asked.  If not, it would not be the first time we had fucked in a parked car.

"Yes," she said.  "I want it to be in our own bed."

I drove a bit faster.  But Angie was clearly in more need than she admitted to.  She pulled up her skirt, put her hand up inside and began to masturbate.  I spent most of the journey with a raging hard-on.  She orgasmed just as we reached home.  We rushed inside, straight up to the bedroom and tore at each others clothing until enough flesh was accessible for us to consummate the desperate act.  It took me some time to reach my own climax, my fourth of the day, during which time Angie came repeatedly.

"I needed that."

She said when her breathing returned to normal.  We removed our tattered clothing and slipped under the duvet, safe in each other's arms.

"Tell me what happened upstairs with Catherine."

She asked.  I told her and asked about her and Paul while we were absent.  Had he fucked her again?

"No.  I sucked him off."

"His choice or yours?"

"Mine.  I wanted to swallow his spunk."

We talked about whether we would go further and join the group, but postponed the decision until the invitation came.

We had made up our mind long before.

That was thirty years ago.  I can remember it so well because it was all recorded, as were all the group meetings, and we have DVDs to remind us.  We remained members of the group for fifteen years until it felt like we were the oldest members.  Even then it was our decision to retire and move to the country that triggered our exit from the circle.

We are still together, still fuck like teenagers, but perhaps not as often.