Sloppy Seconds Story-Do You Want to Cum in My Pussy?

Jerry heard the screen door slap and looked up from the ledger. Cindy Lou was already halfway across the yard, barefoot, sundress stuck to her in the late heat, hair pinned up the way she wore it when she meant to work and then didn’t. Behind her, half a step and trying not to look like he was following, came Dale, her sister’s friend from town, the one who had been “helping with the fence” for three days and had not driven a single post.

“Jerry,” she said, sweet as the tea she never finished. “Dale says the west line can wait till morning. I told him you wouldn’t mind if he stayed for supper.”

Jerry set the pencil down. He had known since Tuesday. He had seen Dale’s hand on the small of her back when they thought the barn hid them, and he had seen the way Cindy Lou leaned into it. A hot woman on a quiet farm got restless. He had told her, one night with her knee over his, that if she wanted to be shared he would rather know than guess. She had gone very still, then kissed him and said she would ask first.

She was asking now, without quite saying it.

“Supper’s fine,” Jerry said. “Wash up. Both of you.”

Dale nodded, ears red, and went to the pump. Cindy Lou stayed in the doorway of the kitchen, watching Jerry. The dress had a wet mark between her breasts from the pump splash. She waited until Dale was out of earshot.

“He’s been hard all afternoon,” she said quietly. “I let him feel me through the dress behind the shed. I didn’t let him in. I wanted you to say it.”

Jerry crossed the room and put his hand under the hem. She was bare underneath, slick already, the lips swollen. He slid two fingers into her and she grabbed his wrist.

“You want him to fuck you.”

“I want you to watch him fuck me,” she said. “Then I want you in me after. Sloppy seconds. I want to feel you push his cum deeper.”

He kissed her once, hard, and pulled his fingers out shining. “Go tell him supper can wait.”

They didn’t make it to the bed. Cindy Lou led Dale into the front room and shut the curtains halfway, enough to cut the road and not the light. She pulled the sundress over her head and stood there, farmer’s wife, sunburn at her shoulders, cunt shaved smooth the way Jerry liked it. Dale stared. She took his hand and put it between her legs.

“Jerry’s staying,” she said. “He likes to watch. You can cum in me. He wants sloppy seconds.”

Dale looked at Jerry. Jerry sat in the armchair, legs apart, and nodded. Dale’s belt hit the floor. His cock was thick, not as long as Jerry’s, already wet at the tip. Cindy Lou turned, bent over the arm of the couch, and reached back to spread herself.

“Do you want to cum in my pussy?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at Dale, then at her husband. “Both of you. Him first.”

Dale stepped in and pushed. She was ready. He sank to the root in one stroke and groaned like he’d been holding it since noon. Cindy Lou’s mouth opened. Jerry watched the stretch, the way her ass rippled when Dale found a pace, the wet sound of a man who had been sneaking around his wife finally getting inside her. Dale held her hips and fucked her in short, greedy thrusts, talking under his breath, calling her hot, calling her a good girl for sharing.

Jerry stood, unzipped, and stroked himself slowly. Cindy Lou saw and smiled, then reached under herself and rubbed her clit in time with Dale’s cock.

“Harder,” she said. “Cum in me. I want it running out when my husband gets his turn.”

Dale lasted another minute. He drove in deep and stayed there, hips jerking, filling her. Cindy Lou came on the last pulses, cunt gripping, a broken sound into the couch cushion. When he pulled out, a thick string followed, then a spill down her thigh. She stayed bent, holding herself open with two fingers.

“Jerry,” she said. “Sloppy seconds. Now.”

He took Dale’s place. The head of his cock pushed through the mess, hot and slick with another man’s cum, and sank into his wife. She was looser, soaked, filthy. He fucked her slow at first so he could feel it, the slide of Dale’s load around him, then harder, the way she liked when she was already full. Cindy Lou reached back and held his thigh.

“That’s it. Push it in. All of it. I want to leak on the floor after.”

Dale had sat down, cock still half hard, watching his cum get fucked back into her. Jerry grabbed her hair, pulled her up against his chest, and pounded until he came, adding his own load to Dale’s, pulsing deep, holding her down on it. When he slipped out, it poured. She laughed, breathless, and caught some on her fingers, then turned and sucked them clean while both men watched.

They didn’t stop at one. After supper, half eaten, she took them to the bedroom. Dale fucked her on her back while Jerry knelt by her head and fed her his cock. She switched them without being asked. When both of them were close again she slid off the bed onto her knees on the rug and looked up, mouth open, tits out.

“On my face,” she said. “I want a mess. Both of you. Bukkake the farmer’s wife.”

Jerry stroked. Dale stroked. She kept her tongue out and her eyes on her husband. Dale came first, striping her cheek and lips. Jerry followed, thicker, across her forehead and chin and into her open mouth. She didn’t wipe it. She smiled through it, cum on her eyelashes, and pulled Jerry down for a kiss that tasted like all three of them.

Later, Dale asleep on the couch because the road was dark, Cindy Lou lay with her head on Jerry’s chest, thighs still sticky.

“Sister’s friend,” she said. “He’ll be back to finish the fence.”

“He can finish you first,” Jerry said.

She laughed and guided his hand between her legs, where she was still full. “Tomorrow,” she said. “Ask me again if I want you to cum in my pussy. I’ll say yes. After he does.”