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My First Time Being Shared
The first time I was shared with another man was unlike anything I’d ever imagined, a moment that unlocked a new dimension of pleasure and connection in our marriage. After five years of marriage, my husband suggested a massage to spice things up, and I was intrigued. When he told me he’d responded to an ad for a male massage therapist named Pete, I felt a flutter of curiosity and nervous excitement.
When Pete arrived, I noticed he was about my husband’s height, with a calm confidence that put me at ease. As I undressed and lay naked on the massage table, I felt vulnerable but also exhilarated, knowing my husband was watching. Pete’s hands were warm and skilled, gliding over my skin with a slow, deliberate touch. He started with my back, shoulders, and legs, his fingers kneading away tension, but as his hands moved to my breasts, buttocks, and inner thighs, the massage turned sensual. My body responded instinctively, warmth pooling between my legs. I shifted subtly, opening myself to his touch, craving more as his fingers grazed closer to my core.
I could feel my husband’s eyes on me, and it heightened every sensation. Pete’s hands were now working my breasts, his body leaning over me from above my head. Through his sweatpants, I could see the outline of his erection—massive, intimidating, and thrilling. My breath quickened as his groin hovered near my face, the heat of his arousal so close. I wanted to reach out, to explore, but I let him lead, savoring the anticipation.
When Pete’s fingers found my clit, I gasped. His touch was firm, rhythmic, and as he slid his fingers inside me, I felt myself growing impossibly wet, the sounds of my arousal filling the room. I arched my back, lost in pleasure, and felt his hardness press closer to my face through the fabric. My lips parted, craving contact. Then, in a fluid motion, Pete stepped back and stripped off his clothes. I caught my first glimpse of his cock—nearly nine inches, thick, and glistening with precum. My eyes widened; I’d never seen anything like it. A mix of awe and desire surged through me. I pulled my long brown hair back, ready for whatever came next.
Pete rubbed the head of his cock across my face, the slick precum painting my skin. I moaned softly, loving the raw intimacy of it. When he guided himself to my lips, I eagerly took him in, my tongue swirling around the tip. His size was overwhelming—my hand couldn’t fully wrap around him, and I struggled to take more than a few inches into my mouth. But the way he pulsed, the vibrations of his arousal, sent shivers through me. I wanted to please him, to feel him lose control, even as I adjusted to his girth.
The air shifted, thick with desire. Pete helped me off the table, and we moved to the floor. My husband joined us, and I found myself on all fours, my body humming with need. I took my husband’s cock in my mouth, savoring his familiarity, while Pete positioned himself behind me. I felt the head of his cock glide along my ass, teasing, slick with precum. My heart raced—not from fear, but from the intensity of wanting this. I opened my legs wider, inviting him in.
As Pete pressed against my asshole, I focused on my husband’s cock, grounding myself in the moment. I felt my husband’s hands reach back, spreading me for Pete, and the pressure of Pete’s slow thrusts sent a jolt through me. It was tight, intense, but I relaxed into it, trusting the moment. Still, I sensed Pete’s hesitation—maybe his size was too much for that entry—and he pulled back. I was dizzy with lust, barely registering his brief absence as he washed up. “What happened?” I murmured, my voice thick with need. My husband reassured me, and I waited, aching for more.
When Pete returned, his fingers found my pussy, stroking me from behind as he hardened again. I moaned, my body trembling under his touch. My husband’s cock was back in my mouth, and I sucked him eagerly, but my focus was splintering as Pete gripped my hips, adjusting me to meet him. Then, with a slow, forceful thrust, he entered me. His cock stretched me, filling me completely, and I gasped at the sensation. Each thrust pushed deeper, and when he buried all nine inches inside me, I shattered. An orgasm ripped through me, one of the most intense I’d ever felt, my body clenching around him.
Pete fucked me doggystyle with long, steady strokes, each one driving me higher. I couldn’t focus on my husband anymore—my world narrowed to the rhythm of Pete’s cock, the way he claimed me. My head dipped toward the floor, my body rocking with his thrusts. I felt my husband grab my hair, guiding his cock back to my mouth, and I tasted him as he came, his release spilling over my lips. I swallowed what I could, the rest dripping down my chin, while Pete’s pace quickened behind me.
The sound of my wetness, the slap of my ass against Pete’s hips, filled the room. I was panting, lost in a haze of pleasure, my body responding to every thrust. Pete’s hands gripped me tighter, pulling me back to meet him, and I came again, wave after wave crashing through me. I could barely hold myself up, my arms trembling as he pounded into me. Pete used my pussy thrusting so long and hard, the air was squeaking out of me because I was so full from his size. It was kind of embarrassing, but it was so satisfying. Then, with a few sharp, savage thrusts, Pete groaned, and I felt him release inside me, his cum flooding my pussy. The sensation pushed me over the edge one last time, and I gasped, my body quivering with satisfaction.
When Pete pulled out, I felt his cum spill from me, pooling on the rug beneath us. The three of us sat there in the dark, breathless and content. I felt cherished, desired, and utterly fulfilled, knowing this moment had changed us—not just for that night, but for the adventures that lay ahead.