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Apologies everyone…I know it has been a while since I have posted anything. Things get busy, naturally. But I finally got a chance to take a trip down memory lane, and pick things back up in 2010….
I hadn’t been expecting it. Liliana had told me that she might have guests over. But when I opened the door, I never expected to see the scene before me.
Liliana was naked and on all fours on our bed…our bed! Her pretty little mouth, which had kissed me goodbye earlier and told me she loved me, was wrapped around a fat, wrinkly old cock. The cock belonged to some guy who looked familiar, a white guy with a little bit of a beer belly. He was looking down at her, past a forest of white and gray chest hair that spread across his belly, his hand wrapped in her long brown hair. Her eyes were focused on the task at hand, the cock that was in her mouth.
A low groan rumbled from his chest, a sound that vibrated through the room and seemed to seep into my very bones. He shifted his weight, his knuckles brushing against her cheek, and a flush rose on her skin. I watched, mesmerized, as she tilted her head, her tongue a slick, dark ribbon against the wrinkled flesh. The sight was so raw, so primal, it stole my breath. Her lips worked with a practiced ease, a desperate hunger that was both shocking and strangely, undeniably, arousing. I could see the subtle twitch of her hips, the way her back arched ever so slightly, a silent testament to the pleasure she was coaxing from him. The air in the room grew thick, heavy with unspoken desire, and I found myself rooted to the spot, my own body beginning to hum with a heat I hadn’t anticipated.
Mounted behind her was another man, built like a bowling ball and definitely older than both of us. He was bald, with a short white beard and faded tattoos on both of his arms that went across his chest. Sweat beaded on his head and his meaty hands gripped my wife’s bare hips, their rough calluses sending shivers up my spine as he thrust himself into her. He was grunting, the sound a low rumble in his chest, as his gut bounced with each deep, relentless thrust. My wife, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her back arching with a desperate need I’d never witnessed, was turned into a hot little pin ball machine, her moans a breathless symphony between these two older men. And I was standing there in the doorway, a cold sweat prickling my own skin, dumbstruck, my body thrumming with a confused, potent cocktail of shock and something else… something primal and deeply arousing. My gaze traced the slick sheen of sweat on his chest, the way his muscles strained with the effort, the sheer power radiating from him as he claimed my wife, and the dawning realization of who they were hit me like a physical blow.
Okay, let me take a step back. At the end of May 2010 we both graduated from college, and could officially say that we were adults. Liliana was set to start her job at her new library in July, and my job wouldn’t start until August. So we had some time, but at the same time there was a lot to do in June. One of the things we needed to do was scrap her old car.
Liliana had driven a beater for years. To celebrate graduating from college and the fact that she was able to get a dream job as a librarian, I scrapped together what I could to get her a brand new reliable vehicle. Her 1998 Toyota Camry had done us a great service, but by the time she was graduating college, there was duct tape holding it together.
Naturally, her old car was not in decent shape for any kind of trade in. The dealerships we looked at were up front with us and told us that the condition her car was in, they would not be able to re-sell it as a used vehicle. And, while I would normally be skeptical of used car salesmen, they had a point. But hey, it was worth trying, right? Well, luck would have it that we would find a dealership that would actually take her old car in.
The dealership was, not gonna lie…kind of suspicious. It wasn’t anything like the big mega dealerships that you see around town, that have local celebrities do commercials for them. This was a step below that. It was a dealership on a country road outside of town that was set up in a pre-fab metal barn. The guy who owned the dealership was named Mike. Mike was a portly guy, balding with snow-white hair and an ill fitting suit. But he threw on that car salesman’s smile for us as we walked around the lot. We found a nicer new car for her, and this guy was practically dancing. But then came the time to look at the trade in. When Mike looked at the car, his jaw dropped.
“This is what you’re looking to trade in?” He asked her. I even remember him pointing at the rear bumper of her car, which was at the time still being held on to the car with liberal amounts of duct tape. Liliana nodded and rubbed her hand along the trunk.
“Yeah, it’s all I got,” she said.
“I can put a down payment on this too,” I added. Mike waved over his partner Dave, the other salesman. They muttered to each other—too quiet to catch—but every so often, I’d hear a word.
“Maybe Dave…throw in the Civic…” and then something that sound like “shame”. The way they said it made me uneasy.
When we sat down at the little desk inside, the air conditioning was struggling to keep up. The room smelled like lemon polish and desperation. Mike took the lead.
“So,” he said, smiling wide enough to show coffee stains. “You two looking to upgrade?” Liliana crossed her legs, confident, calm.
“Just something that won’t die on me halfway to work,” she said. Dave chuckled.
“Can’t promise anything, sweetheart, but we’ll see what we can do.” The “sweetheart” hung a second too long. Liliana didn’t flinch, but I saw her shoulders tighten before she leaned forward, elbows on the desk. “What’s the trade-in worth?” Mike blinked.
“Well, uh…let’s see…” he punched numbers into a calculator like it was purely for show. “Fifteen hundred.”
“Blue Book says twenty-five,” she replied, cool as a lake in October. They glanced at each other, surprised. Mike cleared his throat. “Well, you’ve done your homework.”
“I have,” she said. For a moment, the room went quiet except for the hum of the fluorescent lights. There was something behind their eyes—hesitation, curiosity, maybe guilt. They excused themselves to “check with the manager”, but from where I sat I could see them through the glass wall. They weren’t talking to anyone else. Just whispering. One gestured toward Liliana’s Toyota, then toward Liliana. I couldn’t hear the words, but I didn’t need to.
“They’re acting weird,” I murmured. Liliana just shrugged.
“They’re salesmen. They’re always weird.” Then she smiled—soft, confident, unbothered—and for a second the whole place felt lighter.
When the men came back, they were suddenly generous. Too generous.
“So,” Mike said, sliding a paper toward us, “talked it over with the boss. We can do the trade-in for two thousand, and get you into a 2009 Corolla. Clean record, good tires. We’ll even knock the interest down a point if you sign today.” Liliana looked over at me, and I shrugged. Honestly, it was a better deal than what I had expected.
“You’ve got a deal!” Liliana said. As she began signing papers, Dave cleared his throat.
“We won’t have the second set of keys ready yet, but we will deliver them once they come in.” Liliana looked back up at them, smiling, and slid the paper back toward them.
“That’s okay! I can get around with one set for now,” she said. I remember leaving the lot with that brand new car, Liliana being excited, but I still wondered why it had been so easy.
The air in the room thickened, heavy with the scent of exertion and something else… something primal and intoxicating. Their grunts weren’t just sounds; they were a rhythm, a pulse that vibrated through the floorboards and into my very core. Mike’s growl, “Good girl,” was less a word and more a command that resonated deep within me, stirring a forgotten hunger. The way he pulled Liliana’s hair back, his thick fingers weaving through it, was possessive, raw. And her response, the slick, deliberate act of spitting on his cock before drawing him back in, was a confession, a surrender that both repulsed and enthralled me.
Dave’s smacks on her bare ass echoed, each one a sharp punctuation mark to the symphony of their pleasure. The sound was like a whip crack, and Liliana’s squeals, so potent, so unrestrained, were a siren song. Watching her bounce, her body a willing participant, a plaything between them, sent a tremor through me. It was a visceral spectacle, her hips grinding, her mouth working, her body slick with sweat and desire, all on “our” bed. The sheer abandon on her face, the way her eyes glazed over as she rode Mike’s cock, then shifted to meet Dave’s thrusts, was a potent cocktail of betrayal and an undeniable, dark fascination. The scene wasn’t just happening; it was unfolding with a brutal, undeniable beauty, and I was caught in its undertow, paralyzed and yet, strangely, alive with a sensation I couldn’t quite name.
The sight of Liliana’s flushed skin, slick with sweat and something more primal, sent a tremor through me. Each grunt from Dave, each gasp that escaped her lips, tightened the coil of desire in my gut. Her moans, once hesitant, now ripped through the garage air, raw and unrestrained, a testament to the raw power these men were wielding over her. I watched, breath catching in my chest, as her body surrendered, muscles clenching and unclenching with each deep thrust. The grease on Mike’s fingers seemed to darken her skin, a stark contrast to her pale curves, as he held her firm, a willing captive to their ministrations. My own body burned, a feverish ache building with every glance, every sound. I was a voyeur, yes, but a participant in this fiery dance of submission, my own arousal a testament to the power she held, even as she was taken.
“Oh, you might want to take this back, babe,” Dave growled, feeding it back to her. She took it eagerly, letting the head push past her lips and into her mouth. It was a sensation that sent shivers down my spine, a primal urge I felt stirring deep within me as I watched.
With a guttural grunt, Dave pulled his cock free from Liliana’s devoted attention, and began to cum on her back and ass. His thick, hot release pooled onto her lower back, a glistening map of his pleasure, and she just moaned, a sound that vibrated through the room, as she continued her ministrations on Mike’s. Dave stepped aside, his chest heaving, his face flushed a deep, rich red. Both guys were clearly out of shape, their labored breathing a testament to their exertion, and I could feel a similar heat rising in my own body.
For Mike, this was reaching a fever pitch. His thick, meaty hands gripped Liliana’s hair, not in a way that hurt, but in a way that guided, a possessive touch that mirrored the intensity in his eyes. His grunts were morphing into low growls, primal sounds of pleasure and demand as her head bounced rhythmically on his pelvis, a mesmerizing dance of desire.
“Fuck, you’re such a good girl,” Mike growled, his voice thick with lust. “You know how to suck a cock.” Liliana was a glorious vision, on her hands and knees, her coffee-brown hair cascading around her face and shoulders like a dark halo. Her bare lower back glistened under the dim light, a slick, inviting canvas that caught the pooling cum, tracing the delicate curves of her spine and dimples. She was an exquisite angel, a creature of pure submission and sensual grace. And for Mike, it was overwhelming.
“Fuck, I want to cum on your face,” he choked out, the words a desperate plea. He slid his cock from her mouth, a surrender Liliana allowed only because she sensed the culmination was imminent. He took his cock in his hand, his fingers stroking it with a frantic urgency, pointing it directly at her face, a charged weapon aimed at her most sensitive features.
A milky-white rope of pure, unadulterated pleasure violently erupted over her face, stretching from the bridge of her nose, up her forehead, and into the very crown of her head, tangling in her lustrous hair. Mike groaned, his body arching as his cock continued to spasm in his hand, releasing wave after wave of thick, milky-white substance that lazily coated her face, a delicious deluge that settled on her nose, her lips, and her chin.
As Mike caught his ragged breath, Liliana slowly opened her eyes and looked up at him, a slow smile spreading across her lips, followed by a soft, throaty laugh. Then, her gaze shifted, finding mine across the room. Later, she’d confide in me that while I was at work, she’d been negotiating with Dave and Mike, trying to secure a better deal for the car. Mike, she admitted, had been quite upfront about his attraction to her. And Liliana, with her deep desire for this particular car and her eagerness to trade in her old one, had struck a deal. Legal? She wasn’t sure. But one thing was undeniable: the car was incredibly reliable. So, in the end, it seemed, it was a very good deal for everyone involved.
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