My Wife Clay and the Fetish Pair

March of '09 saw Mel with a new hookup guy.

He wasn't like what she was traditionally into, which I found somewhat concerning. It popped into my head, 'Are her tastes changing? Am I going to see a time when she's disinterested in me?'

At that point our sex life was still-newlywed blowtorch. It had been almost the same prior to our wedding but getting married gave us some sort of 'permission' we hadn't possessed.

Despite the fact that we were keeping each other occupied at least four nights a week, we both found a bit of time to express ourselves elsewhere. Mel with a few girls and a few guys, me with an embarrassing number of guys.

Jesus if my mom ever found out. She knows I'm bisexual but I'm pretty sure she doesn't know I'm a slut about it.

So when I got the lowdown on Mel's new male side piece I was more than a little anxious but still intrigued.

By her description, Clay was a few inches shorter than me. He had a shaved head, was slender, wore glasses...ok. He had a thick...and she accentuated the word...six and a half inches. He was immaculately shaved all over the area, including his huge...also accentuated...balls.

They'd hooked up on a Friday in early January after a work 'thing'. He was married to a gal who, in Mel's words, was fence post level stupid. He gave her his number 'if you're ever bored'. She screwed him the next night in the furnished basement of their house while his wife was crashed on sleep meds.

None of that was unusual. But the fact he was sixty-three was definitely out of her character.

She's not ageist or anything. We had a regular friend named Brody a few years prior that was nearly 60. This was the first time she'd gone after anyone that age on her own.

I wasn't going to shame her for her choice. It was a raised eyebrow.

Apparently, he was a sewing machine and had a unique angle. One of Mel's sweet spots is just to the left of her clit (stage left) and down about 5mm or so. If you hit that with regular pressure and speed she'll get off in succession until she hits her limit.

Clay was curved to the right a hair after his cockhead and riddled with veins, so when he went in the curve took the bulk of him towards her target spot and the texture drove her nuts. She'd said the first time in his basement pushed her over the edge after 90 seconds and kept her coming for almost fifteen minutes, until he pulled out and finished all over her belly and crotch.

Sounded like fun.

I had the opportunity to meet Clay and his wife, Margaret (call me Maggy) in May at another of her work things. Mel hadn't let the fact I knew about their every week encounters be known to the man, so his open friendliness was a bit weird. Normally when guys think they're cheating with your wife, they're a bit awkward.

Not Clay. Friendly, open, enjoyable to be around. We talked about growing up in small towns, seeing the world, doing interesting things.

Maggy was, as Mel had said, dumb as the day is long. I almost thought she had dementia, she was so disjointed. She was nice, friendly, as open as Clay. The problem was it seemed like everything you said wasn't being processed at all.

"Hey Joe! Can I borrow your wife for a minute or two? I've got an issue with some paperwork they absolutely need on Monday. Shouldn't take but a couple minutes." He said some hour into the get together.

Gone for 20 minutes, she came back with cum on her breath.

She related to me later that they hadn't even made it to their floor before she sucked him off in an unused office. He'd been ferocious in the demand, fucking her face with what felt like anger.

In early May, Mel and I were at a bar and grill having dinner when she said, "I'm going to tell Clay you're fully aware of what he and I are up to." I glanced at her. Normally when she told a guy they ghosted her so fast her number was deleted while they walked away, "I'm just...he's a nice guy and he's a coworker. If someone found out and tried to tell you I'd rather he didn't have to worry."

I just cocked my head, "Well, here's hoping he doesn't 'Bradley' you." Bradley was a guy she'd been screwing around with while we were dating. She told him one afternoon about our 'arrangement'. He turned stark white, turned around and not only never saw him again, he never contacted anyone they knew again.

The next night she came home with some Quiznos and sat at the table. "Well...uh...that went kinda weird today."

"What's that?" I asked.

She unwrapped her sub and sat there. "So Clay and I...we went to lunch. He knows that I screw around with other guys, but when I told him that you knew, he sorta perked up." Her eyes went to the ceiling in a sort of weird look I couldn't place. "The first thing he asked was if you were one of those submissive guys. I said no, we just like screwing other people and he said that was good, because he wasn't sure how to take those guys."

"Then he said he was kind of relieved because he thought you were a nice guy and it felt shitty." She took a bite of her sub, then continued, "Then I told him you were bisexual and he said, and I wasn't sure about it, was that when he was in the merchant marine, they used to say, 'any port in a storm, any tail in a gale'. Does that mean he's bi too?"

I snickered, "Usually it means he has no qualms fucking a guy or getting a blowjob, just doesn't reciprocate."

"Huh" she said.

That weekend we hooked up with a couple off of one of her fetish sites that we'd met a few times. They were leather/latex people and we did our best to work with it. Mel was in her full leather gear and I was in a pair of boots and a supple cowhide jockstrap.

They were as far away from each other as you can imagine. The guy wore a black, rigid vest, high Doc Martens, chaps, fingerless gloves and nothing else. He was almost completely shaved a few days prior, save his eyebrows, and was covered in a vaguely musky smelling oil.

He was an inch or two shorter than my 5'9" and weighed in at probably a touch over 250. He had a gorgeous, thick six inches and was skilled in its use. At least from Mel's point of view.

I'd sucked him for a while on our last visit but his real focus was lying down on the vinyl-covered bed face down while I entered him from above, prone. Instead of thrusting, I'd slide down on his oiled body and pull myself out, then pull upwards and inwards.

Originally I'd thought it was kind of odd. After the first time I'd decided it was kinda awesome. Not 'I'm into it enough to buy gear' amazing, but Mel and I do have a sheet and oil and get bored occasionally.

So far, I'd gotten off twice this way.

His girlfriend was heavily surgically modified and the work, while a bit over the top, was excellent (She and Mel had gone to the same boob guy). Her thing was latex. She had a complete bodysuit with a slit just where her slit was. Mel and she would mouth each other mercilessly for up to an hour. Enough where both of us guys could get through a few refractory periods and party along, sometimes including cocks with their activities.

We spent nearly three hours at their place. The guy, Jon, had started the night with Mel squatting on his face while Olivia sucked me languorously. Within a very short time Jon had switched to me, his mouth working on my entire groin in a sloppy, wet mess while he pumped himself at breakneck speed.

We didn't come up for air for at least the first ninety minutes. Ultimately Olivia had groaned through a ball gag with a half-dozen climaxes. Mel matched her. My first load was splattered over Jon's face, head and chest. His drooled onto my low-trimmed pubes as he pumped himself while I felt the convulsions of his prostate and asshole around my buried prick. My second rocketed into his colon while his mixed with the slick oil on the vinyl cover of the bed in a messy froth.

The last half hour or so saw us all in bathrobes after washing off sweat, oil, cum and other various items from ourselves. We scheduled another visit for the following month.

As we drove back, wearing only our gear and a couple of long coats, Mel casually said, "How do you feel about a three-way with Clay?"

"I think it'd be a helluva thing to spring on a guy." The leather jock, filled with drying lube, oil and cum was starting to itch. Chafing.

"It was his idea." She said.

We didn't really set a date. Mel knew my schedule for 'actual' hookups just like I knew hers (online shared calendar and whatnot).

So when they showed up to the house on the Tuesday after our leather full-swap, I was delighted but caught off guard. Mel was apologetic for no good reason, and Clay just seemed happy to be there.

We exchanged only the quickest pleasantries. I was kind of taken aback when he said, "Joe, I appreciate you letting me have some fun times with your wife here. She broke up a ten year dry spell."

I'd never been thanked before and had to correct him, "Clay, she's her own person. I'm absolutely not going to stop her from doing her own thing...well, up to a point." And I laughed.

We made it to the guest bedroom in fairly short order and I had to appreciate Clay as he stripped. I've got that mental view of how older guy are 'supposed' to look. Even now when I'm getting older I still have that view.

He was slender, toned. Shaved far better than I was.

His arms reached up as soon as he was completely nude. He was already erect and I could see that curve she'd mentioned that, based on what I knew, would indeed slam into her right where it counted.

It was textured with veins and different bulges of erectile tissue, looking like some sort of exotic vibrator.

Then you got to his sack. They were exceptionally sized, sure. But the level to which they hung down was remarkable. It was also hitting me in a weird way...like an 'I want them in my mouth' way.

"Holy shit." I said.

Mel, naked herself, replied, "I know, right?"

She pushed me down onto the bed and straddled me in a 69. I began absolutely devouring her in answer to how she'd began mouthing my own six and a half.

Not too far from my head I saw Clay stroking himself casually. He was just waiting his turn and appeared to be enjoying the spectacle. As I glanced, a large clear drop appeared on his textured head and was spread by his hand on a turn of his wrist.

After only a couple minutes Mel pulled away from my prick. As it hit the cool air she said, "Clay? Are you gonna apply yourself?"

His answer was to take a step or two forward, look down past his curved shaft and ask, "You up for this?" I 'mm hmm' d at him.

The connective tissue between the bottom of his head and shaft was the first place my tongue touched him. He didn't twitch at all, but started a very polite movement in and out of her directly above my face.

At about the fourth press some inches inside, his heavy bag rolled across my forehead the first time. His withdrawal moved the hairless skin back away from me and I saw past the large set to where he was just inside my wife.

The next two presses had them covering my eyes and, as he wiggled above me, I felt with my tongue that he was completely inside her. She let out a moan over me as her attention was drawn downward.

He began a movement that dragged his scrotum over my face while I furiously licked where they joined. Her natural wetness, one of her most desirable traits, began to coat him.

After several moments of him drawing his now-wet balls across my face he pulled backwards and looked down again, past where he was just inside her. "You still doin' ok down there?" I let out a muffled affirmative, my mouth both on her and him, "I might go a little quick here. You ok with that too?" I repeated my noise.

Mel had described him after their first hookup that he was 'like a sewing machine' and had repeated it on more than one occasion over their some eight or ten sessions. I'd thought she'd meant that he was super consistent, regular movements.

Boy was I wrong. He had consistent, constant movements, sure. But he also had speed that would make a man a third of his age cringe in fright.

His sack slapped into my face relentlessly as my tongue went across his shaft as it flashed in and out of Mel's inner folds. She'd pulled herself away from my cock, since she couldn't keep it in her mouth anyway.

My face was coated with spit, pussy, and sweat as he slammed and pumped, with insane speed that belied his age. The sensation of his action above me and Mel's body rubbing against me was nearly enough to push me into a 'close' situation.

I did my best to keep it into a holding pattern and keep from blowing.

There was no way I could tell how much time was passing. Mel had cum a number of times, twitching in a different rhythm than his relentless movements. It wasn't until I felt his legs tense and come into either side of my head, grabbing hold that I knew something was up.

He began a sort of whispering you could just hear over the slapping of flesh, "Gonna cum. Here it cums. I'm there."

The sack dragged across my face one more time and I could feel the heavy orbs inside move and undulate as he dumped his load into Mel's insides. My tongue was right on his shaft while it swelled with the convulsions of his climax. It was intense, psychologically pushing me close to my own cumshot.

Several moments went by as his legs trembled and I felt his scrotum and cock calm down.

Mel remembered I was there and wrapped her lips around my equipment. I inhaled hard as, at the almost same instant, Clay withdrew himself.

First his smooth balls pulled back to where I could see, through my sloppy face, his shaft coming slowly loose. He slid out and directly into my open mouth, which had been ready to receive whatever he left in.

I swirled my tongue around him, tasting Mel and his jizz. It was a sharp, clean taste with just a small bit of a salty tang. I swallowed as more of the cloudy white liquid rolled out of her and onto my lips.

He pulled loose of my mouth a second later with an inhaled hiss. "I appreciate it, just a little sensitive at the moment." I moved my tongue around my face and into Mel, slurping his load with a need for the rest of the flavor.

It pushed me too far and I wrapped my arms around Mel's ass, pulling her onto my face hard as I began to spasm inside her mouth, filling it with my own semen. Enough that I felt some leak from her lips along my own balls.

She rolled apart from me after a few moments as we lay on the bed, exhausted. Clay had taken a seat next to us and leaned back, his almost immediately soft prick in the hollow between his thighs.

He and Mel would continue their arrangement for another year, when he retired to New Mexico to live around his kids. We would occasionally get together, the three of us. Sometimes for a repeat of that night, sometimes with Mel and I missionary and both of us working on him. Once, when we were double-teaming Mel, myself on the bottom in her ass, him above on the other side, He lowered himself and went into my ass for one of those intensely fast experiences. One I have yet to repeat.