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This is a true story from last week.
It started with me asking my wife if we could have a threesome. Ive known shes had them with her boyfriend before but not with me and ive wanted to try one for a while now.
Here’s the story
She rolled over, propping her head on her hand, those big tits spilling against my chest. She smiled that half-shy, half-mischievous smile I love. “I don’t want to mess things up with him,” she said softly. “He’s been really good about keeping things between us, and I don’t want to complicate it. But…” She bit her lip. “If you want to find someone on Reddit in the city, I’m down. Just make sure he’s normal. Vibe check first.”
That was all the green light I needed. I spent the next couple of weeks scrolling through the local r4r subs and a couple of the more discreet threesome groups. I posted a vague ad, kept it classy but honest: married couple, wife is hot and experienced, looking for a respectful guy for a no-strings hotel night. Responses came in, but most were flakes or weirdos. Then Redd messaged.
He was local, early thirties, fit from the pics, polite as hell in the chat. We traded a few messages, then moved to a quick video call so my wife could see him. She liked what she saw—tall, dark hair, easy smile, and a bulge in his shorts that made her raise an eyebrow at me later. We set the date for that Friday. Hotel booked, neutral ground. I told her I’d handle everything.
We met him at a quiet bar downtown around 8 p.m. My wife looked incredible—tight little black dress that hugged her ass, no bra, heels that made her legs look endless. Redd was already there when we walked in. The vibe check was instant and perfect. He stood up, shook my hand firm, then hugged my wife like they were old friends. We grabbed drinks and slid into a booth. Conversation flowed easy—sports, jobs, stupid Reddit stories. Within twenty minutes his hand was on her thigh under the table. She didn’t move it away. Ten minutes later they were kissing right there in the booth, slow and deep, his fingers tracing the neckline of her dress while I watched, half-hard already. She pulled back, flushed and grinning at me. “He passes,” she whispered. I paid the tab.
I drove. They sat in the back of our SUV. I kept my eyes on the road, but I could hear everything—the wet sounds of their mouths, her soft little moans, the rustle of fabric as his hands explored. I glanced in the rearview once and caught her straddling one of his thighs, grinding slowly while they made out like teenagers. By the time we pulled into the hotel parking lot my cock was throbbing against my zipper.
We barely made it into the room before clothes started coming off. The door had just clicked shut when my wife dropped to her knees between us. She pulled Redd’s cock out first—thick, veiny, already rock hard—and then mine. She sucked us both, alternating, taking me deep while she stroked him, then switching. Redd groaned and pulled her dress up over her hips. She wasn’t wearing panties. He got behind her on all fours, lined up, and slid into her pussy in one smooth thrust. She moaned around my cock, the vibration shooting straight to my balls.
I lasted maybe three minutes. The sight of him fucking her from behind, her tits swinging, her lips stretched around me—it was too much. I pulled out, stroking fast, aiming for her face. “Gonna cum,” I gasped. She opened her mouth, tongue out, but I missed. The first thick rope splattered across her cheek and into her hair, the rest landing on the hotel sheets. Redd just laughed low and kept pounding her harder.
They didn’t stop. I collapsed into the chair by the window, cock softening, watching them on the bed. He flipped her onto her back, spread her legs wide, and fucked her deep and steady. Then he had her ride him, those perfect tits bouncing as she ground down on his cock. She came twice, loud and shaking, calling out “fuck yes” while he gripped her ass and thrust up into her. I tried to get hard again, stroking in the chair, but I was spent. It didn’t matter. They were lost in it.
After her second orgasm Redd slowed down. “Where do you want me to finish?” he asked, voice rough. She looked over at me, then back at him. “On my chest,” she said. He pulled out, straddled her, and stroked himself until he erupted—long, heavy ropes painting her tits and stomach. She rubbed it in, smiling up at him.
We caught our breath. I grabbed some water bottles from the mini-fridge and told them I’d run down to the lobby for real drinks. “Be right back,” I said, pulling my jeans on. When I got back ten minutes later with three cold beers, the scene had changed. Redd had her on all fours again, but this time he was buried in her ass, fucking her slow and deep. She was moaning into the pillow, pushing back against him.
I set the beers down. “Damn,” I said, voice thick. “I think her boyfriend’s been breaking her in. He can’t keep his cock out of her ass lately.”
Redd groaned, gripping her hips tighter. “She’s so fucking tight back here.” He picked up the pace, still careful but clearly close. My wife reached back and spread herself wider for him. A minute later he buried himself to the balls and came hard, pumping his load deep inside her ass. She shuddered through another small orgasm, whispering “fill me up.”
We didn’t rush him out. We cracked the beers, talked for twenty minutes—easy shit, laughing about how hot the whole night had been. Redd was a gentleman the whole time, respectful, grateful. Then he dressed, hugged my wife (who was still naked and leaking his cum), shook my hand, and left.
My wife and I fucked once more after he was gone—slow and lazy, her ass still slick with his load. She came whispering how much she loved me letting her do that.
Best night we’ve had in years. If you’re in the city and think you might be a good Redd for us someday… well, you know where to find me.
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