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read before chapter 3
After that one last mercy fuck from Jack, things settled into a rhythm that felt almost too good to be true. Sarah threw herself into being the perfect wife, doting on me like we were newlyweds again. The rest of her pregnancy flew by in a blur of doctor’s appointments, nursery decorating, and quiet evenings curled up on the couch. Winter set in hard, blanketing the neighborhood in snow and keeping everyone indoors. No more barbecues with Jack; our interactions dwindled to casual waves across the yard when we’d shovel our driveways or grab the mail. He’d nod politely, I’d grunt back, and that was it. No lingering tension, no stolen glances. It was like the whole affair had been a fever dream.
Our sex life? It exploded. Sarah’s hormones had her climbing the walls, and she channeled all that energy into me. She’d wake me up before dawn, her hands roaming under the covers, stroking me hard. “Come on, big boy,” she’d purr, climbing on top and guiding me inside her slick heat. Her pregnant pussy was tighter, warmer, gripping me like a vice as she rode me slow and deep. I’d grab her hips, thrusting up to meet her, feeling her belly press against me with each bounce. “I love your thick cock, baby,” she’d moan, her voice husky, eyes locked on mine as if I was the one who’d knocked her up, the stud who’d claimed her. It was all an act, I knew deep down, but damn if it didn’t feel real in the moment. She’d cum hard, shuddering around me, her juices soaking the sheets, then flip onto her hands and knees for round two. “Fuck me like you own me,” she’d beg, and I’d pound into her from behind, watching her ass ripple, her moans echoing off the walls until I filled her up. Nights blurred into mornings of her sucking me off under the blankets, her lips stretched around my shaft, humming approval. “So thick and perfect,” she’d whisper between licks, making me feel ten feet tall. I didn’t have to fight for her attention or allow any side flings. Things were normal, the way a husband and wife should be intimate, connected, without shadows lurking.
The baby arrived in early spring, a healthy boy with Jack’s eyes but my last name. We named him Ethan, and when Jack came to the hospital to visit, it was all smiles and handshakes. “Congrats, Mike,” he said, holding the bundle for a minute before passing him back. “He’s a keeper.” No weirdness; he was just the neighbor popping in. At home, everything clicked into place. Ethan was my son in every way that mattered, crying for my bottle feeds at 2 a.m., smiling up at me during tummy time. Jack faded into the background, and our family felt whole.
Postpartum, Sarah healed up over a few months, and we eased back into sex cautiously. I started wearing condoms every time, rolling one on religiously to make sure we didn’t accidentally add another kid too soon. She didn’t want birth control pills messing with her hormones, and I respected that. Our sessions were tender at first, her body still sensitive. I’d kiss her scars, work her up slow with my fingers, circling her clit until she was dripping. “You’re so good to me, big boy,” she’d sigh, pulling me between her legs. Missionary mostly, her legs wrapped around me as I thrust steady, the latex a thin barrier between us. She’d clutch my back, gasping, “Your thick cock feels amazing, filling me just right.” It built from there; soon we were back to wild romps. She’d bend over the kitchen counter after Ethan was down for a nap, hiking up her skirt. I’d slide in from behind, pounding her while she bit her lip to stay quiet. “Harder, baby, give me that big dick,” she’d urge, her pussy clenching around me as she came, milking me until I exploded into the condom. We experimented too, her on top bouncing with renewed energy, or me eating her out for ages, tongue delving deep while she ground against my face. “I love how you stretch me,” she’d moan, even though I knew the words were borrowed from her time with him. We discussed a second baby, timing it right, but every time we fucked, she’d insist on the condom. “Not yet, Mike. Let’s wait a bit.” Maybe she wasn’t ready? I didn’t push; things were good, our bond stronger than ever.
By summer, the snow was long gone, and July 4 rolled around with fireworks and festivities. Jack hosted a big neighborhood barbecue, the whole block invited for burgers, beers, and pool games. Sarah looked stunning in her bikini, Ethan on her hip, chatting with the other moms. I manned the grill with Jack, flipping patties side by side like old times. The sun beat down, kids splashed in the pool, and everything felt normal until he leaned in close, voice low over the sizzle. “You know, Mike, I think it’s time I bred your wife again. She’s looking ripe for another one of mine.” Fury hit me like a gut punch. “What the fuck?” I snarled, dropping the tongs. We squared off right there, me shoving him, him shoving back. But Jack had experience, probably from bar fights in his youth. He grabbed my throat quick, pinning me against the fence behind the grill, his grip like iron. The neighbors didn’t notice, too busy with their splashing and laughter. “Easy now,” he growled, eyes cold. “You don’t want a scene. Grant me permission to fuck her again, or I’ll make sure everyone knows whose kid Ethan’s really is. And trust me, I can take you apart if I have to.” Pinned and choking, humiliation burning, I nodded, gasping out, “Fine… you have permission.”
The party wound down as the sun set, neighbors trickling out with full bellies and goodbyes. Once it was just us three adults and Ethan napping inside, Jack and I sat Sarah down in the living room. “Honey,” I said, throat still raw, “I’ve agreed to let Jack fuck you again… if you want it.” Her eyes lit up like Christmas, and she threw her arms around me, hugging tight. “Oh, Mike, thank you! I love you so much.” Then she turned to Jack, that hungry spark back, and the teasing began anew. They didn’t waste time; right there on his couch after we headed over to “help clean up,” Jack had her stripped and spread. “Watch this, Mike,” he said with a smirk, pulling out his monster cock, thick and veined. “This is what she really craves.” Sarah moaned, dropping to her knees, lips stretching wide around his girth as she sucked him eagerly, gagging on the thickness while her hand pumped the base. “So much bigger than yours, hubby,” she teased between slurps, glancing at me. Jack laughed, face-fucking her deeper. “Yeah, your little dick can’t compare. That’s why she needs a real man to breed her.”
He bent her over the armrest, slamming in from behind, her ass jiggling with each thrust. “Feel that stretch? Thicker than his pathetic prick,” he taunted, pounding relentlessly as she screamed, “Yes, Jack, your huge cock is ruining me!” I sat there, hard despite the shame, watching him fill her up, her pussy gripping him like it was made for it. She’d cum hard, squirting around his shaft, then ride him reverse cowgirl, bouncing while facing me. “See, Mike? This is what a real breeding feels like. Your tiny thing just tickles.” Jack flipped her missionary, her legs over his shoulders, hammering deep until he flooded her with cum. “Taking my seed again, slut. Your hubby’s condom days are over.” The summer heated up with their affair reignited. Sarah would sneak over during the day, coming back flushed and leaking. Our sex mixed in too; she’d fuck me afterward sometimes, still slick with his load. “Pretend you’re him, big boy,” she’d say, but the teasing slipped in. “Though your cock’s so small compared to Jack’s monster.” Nights with Jack were marathons: him eating her out on his bed, tongue lapping her clit while fingers stretched her, then fucking her in every position. Doggy, her face buried in pillows as he smacked her ass; cowgirl, her tits bouncing as she ground on his thickness; even anal once, his girth splitting her tight hole while she whimpered, “Too big… but I love it.” I’d hear the details later, her whispering them during our sessions for added humiliation. “Jack’s so thick, Mike. Yours feels like a pencil after him.”
By late summer, before the leaves turned, the pregnancy test glowed positive. Sarah beamed, hugging me, but her hand strayed to her belly with a wink toward Jack’s house. “Another one of his,” she teased softly. “Your little dick couldn’t do this, could it? But you’ll raise it like a good cuck.” Jack just grinned from across the yard, his victory complete, the SPH stinging as she added, “Don’t worry, hubby. I still love your cute little thing… when I’m not craving the real deal.”
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