Peggy Sue cums while pegging her hubby with giant strapon

The lifeboat brochure still called it a couple’s renewal week. Peggy Sue called it the first time she had packed the strap-on in a checked bag and not felt stupid about it.

Barbados had taken the ship two nights earlier, or what was left of the cruise after the engine fire. Not a movie wreck. A list, a flare, a transfer onto a resort tender, and a pink hotel that comped the survivors rum punch and a room with a broken ice machine. Her husband, Glenn, had gone quiet in the way he did when plans failed. Peggy Sue had gone the other way. Salt on her skin, dress transparent from the spray, nipples showing through the white cotton every time she walked the beach road. She was thirty-six, blonde because she paid for it, and she had been a slut wife in private for three years. The giant strap-on was the private part Glenn liked and never asked for in daylight.

The hypnotist was a bar act. Shipwreck special, the chalkboard said. Peggy Sue went because the room was too cold and because Glenn had said he didn’t want to be looked at. She sat in the second row in the damp dress and let the man with the gold watch talk her down. It was not magic. It was her deciding to drop. When he told the volunteers their bodies would answer before their mouths did, she felt the click. Loose. Useful. Wet already, the way she got when someone else held the leash.

She came back to the room with a room-key bracelet and a head full of cotton. Glenn was on the balcony in the hotel robe. She locked the door, put the suitcase on the bed, and took the harness out without asking how his day had been.

“You’re going to take it,” she said. Her voice sounded far off and exact. “All of it. Then you’re going to watch me cum on it.”

The strap-on was clear. She had bought the transparent one because she liked seeing the base seat against her cunt and the shaft disappear. Giant was not a joke. Thick enough that her fingers didn’t meet, long enough that Glenn had tapped out at half the first time and then asked for it again a week later. She stepped into the harness under the wet dress, buckled it, and didn’t take the dress off. The cotton clung. The clear cock jutted through the open front, absurd and perfect, sunlight from the balcony turning it glassy.

Glenn stared. “Peggy.”

“On the bed. Robe off. You don’t get to negotiate. The man in the bar said I’d finish what I started.”

He did it. That was the old bargain, the one they didn’t put on Christmas cards. She was the slut wife. He was the husband who bent. She slicked the shaft with the bottle from her wash bag, climbed up behind him, and pressed the head to him. He breathed out the way he always did, embarrassed and hard. His own cock hung thick under him, dripping onto the hotel spread.

“Deep,” she said. “All of it. Don’t tap.”

She pushed. The transparent shaft sank, inch by inch, the clear length letting her watch his body take it. Halfway he groaned. She didn’t stop. She seated the harness flush, the base grinding her clit, and held there until his arms shook. Then she fucked him. Slow at first, then harder, the wet dress sticking to her stomach, the balcony door open on the Barbados dark. Every thrust rubbed the base over her cunt. She was close already from the bar, from the cotton feeling in her head, from the sight of the giant clear cock buried in her husband.

“Stroke yourself,” she said. “I want you dripping while I use you.”

He did. Precum strung from the tip to the sheet. She reached under, gathered it on her fingers, and wiped it along the harness where it met her. Not his cum yet. Soon. She angled her hips and ground, chasing the pressure, pegging him in short mean strokes that made the clear shaft flex. The hypnotist’s voice was still in her ear, stupid and useful: finish what you started. She started cumming with the strap-on seated deep, clit pulsing against the base, dress transparent with sweat and sea salt, moaning into the back of his neck while she kept fucking through it. The orgasm rolled longer than it had any right to. She didn’t pull out. She stayed buried and rolled her hips until the aftershocks faded and she was laughing, breathless, still hard in the harness where he was soft around her.

“Again,” she said. “I’m not done. And you’re going to cum while it’s in you.”

She fucked him through the sensitivity, one hand on his cock, the giant strap-on working him open. He came with a broken sound, thick pulses onto the sheet and over her fingers. She brought the mess up, showed him, and wiped some of it on the clear shaft where it disappeared into him. Then she pulled out slow so he could see the length leave, glossy, ridiculous, huge. She unbuckled nothing. She turned him over, climbed up his chest, and fed the head toward his mouth.

“Clean it. Deepthroat what you can. It’s yours and mine.”

Glenn hesitated. Peggy Sue pressed. The transparent cock slid past his lips, then farther, her cunt still throbbing against the base as she shallow-fucked his throat. She came a second time like that, smaller, sharper, grinding the harness while he gagged and took it, slut wife with her husband under her and the shipwreck ocean muttering past the rail. When she finally eased back, spit strung from the clear shaft to his mouth. She licked a stripe of his cum off her own fingers because she wanted the taste, then kissed him so he had it too.

They lay there with the balcony door open. Her dress had dried stiff with salt. The strap-on rested on his thigh, still buckled, still giant, still transparent enough to show the lube and the mess. Peggy Sue’s head felt ordinary again, the bar trick worn off, the decision not.

“Tomorrow,” she said, “we do it on the beach chair after dark. Same cock. You don’t get a safe word until I’ve cum on it twice.”

Glenn nodded, wrecked, half-hard again. Somewhere down the coast a tender horn sounded, late passengers, another boat that had made it in. Peggy Sue tightened the harness one notch and didn’t take it off. Barbados could keep the ship. She had the only wreck she wanted, and she was already wet for the second round.