Your Hot Tub, My Wife

Mike and I had always been good together—loyal, sweet, domestic in that cozy way that happens after a few years of marriage. But sexually? Something had shifted. Or maybe something had finally awakened. The jokes started innocently enough—me teasing him about his size, him getting red-faced and flustered in that frustrated, adorable, submissive way he does. Then the jokes turned into late-night pillow talk. And the pillow talk turned into fantasies. Then… silence.

Not awkward silence. Just the kind that lingers when you both know what’s being said without saying it.

One night, while he was kneeling between my thighs with his little cock in its stainless steel cage—licking me with that eager, tongue-only worship—I said it out loud for the first time.

“I want more.”

He looked up, eyes wide, lips glossy. “More?”

“I want to feel stretched. Filled. Taken by a man who can give me what you can’t.”

I watched it hit him—shame, arousal, humiliation, need. He moaned into my pussy like it was a prayer.

A week later, I posted the ad.

Hotwife. Craving something bigger.
Looking for a thick cock and a private hot tub.
He’s small. I’m not satisfied. Let’s make him watch.

It didn’t take long before responses started rolling in. One reply stood out.

“I’ve got the tub. I’ve got the cock. And I’ve got all night.”
—Ray

His photos were tasteful. Broad chest, muscular arms, a neatly trimmed beard, strong hands gripping the edge of the hot tub. But what caught my eye—what sealed the deal—was the outline in his trunks. Thick. Heavy. Coiled like a weapon barely restrained.

I showed Mike the message while he was locked up again—freshly showered, kneeling, hopeful. His mouth dropped.

“H-he looks…”

I leaned down, whispered into his ear. “Like he’s going to ruin me for you.”

His cage twitched visibly.

The night of the date, Mike was all nerves. I’d dressed him simply—tight black swim trunks, no shirt. His cage was snugly tucked beneath. He held a little cooler of drinks and towels while I walked ahead in a thin white bikini, one that barely covered my nipples. I had slicked my thighs with lotion, left my pussy shaved and soft. Tonight, I wasn’t his wife—I was Ray’s guest.

Ray’s backyard was exactly what I’d imagined. Private. Romantic. The tub steamed in the moonlight, surrounded by hanging lights and soft jazz.

Ray opened the door shirtless, in a white towel slung low on his hips. “You must be Kelcy,” he said, eyes raking over me unapologetically. “And you brought the little one.”

Mike flushed.

I laughed. “This is Mike, yes. My husband. He won’t be joining us in the water. But he’s here to be useful.”

Ray smirked and waved us in.

I climbed into the hot tub first, sighing as the bubbles rose around me. Ray slipped in across from me. Mike hovered awkwardly at the edge, hands folded, his gaze flicking from Ray’s chest to his towel—and then to the growing bulge beneath it.

I could see Ray notice. “You always keep him locked?”

“Only when I’m being generous,” I said, gliding through the water to sit beside Ray. “He hasn’t had an orgasm in three weeks. Poor thing’s been saving all his energy for me.”

Ray chuckled low. “And now I’m the one who gets to drain you.”

Mike whimpered softly.

Ray turned to him, voice smooth but firm. “Take off your shirt. Sit. Over there. Hands on your thighs. Eyes on us.”

Mike obeyed immediately.

Ray’s fingers slid beneath the water to touch my thigh. I opened my legs, shifting to straddle his lap, feeling the thick shape of his cock pressing against me even through his swim trunks.

“Do you want him to see it?” Ray asked, lips brushing my ear.

“God, yes,” I whispered.

Ray stood suddenly, water cascading off his body, his cock already thick and heavy beneath the wet fabric. He dropped his shorts casually, revealing the kind of length and girth that made my breath hitch. I heard Mike’s gasp behind me.

“Look at him,” I said, turning to face my husband. “That’s a cock, sweetheart. That’s what your wife deserves.”

Mike nodded, his voice barely audible. “Yes, Kelcy…”

Ray sat again, pulling me down with him. His cock slid between my cheeks, teasing, making me squirm.

“You’re tight?” he asked.

“Tighter than you can imagine,” I whispered.

He reached beneath the water, guiding his thick head to my opening. I looked back at Mike—frozen, breathless, watching every inch. Then Ray pushed in.

My body stretched wide, deliciously full, and I moaned so loud it echoed through the yard. He took his time, inch after inch, letting my body adjust. My pussy fluttered around him, clenching at the foreign fullness. He was so much more than Mike. He filled places that had never been touched.

Mike looked like he was about to cry.

“Breathe, baby,” I cooed. “I’m just getting what you couldn’t give me.”

Ray gripped my hips and began to move. Slow, deep strokes. I gasped, every nerve lit up, my body betraying me with wave after wave of pleasure.

Mike shifted in his seat, his caged cock twitching against his waistband.

I locked eyes with him. “You wanted this, didn’t you?”

“Yes…”

“You needed this.”

He nodded quickly, cheeks flushed.

Ray picked up the pace. His cock slammed into me with a rhythm that made my knees shake. I was soaked, slick, overwhelmed—consumed. He reached up, grabbed my hair, and pulled me back onto him harder, deeper.

“Tell him what you feel,” Ray growled.

I moaned, barely able to form words. “Full… stretched… used… finally fucked.”

Ray chuckled darkly. “Bet he’s never heard you make those noises.”

“Never,” I gasped.

Mike’s hands trembled on his thighs. He didn’t dare touch himself.

“You wanna be inside your wife, Mike?” Ray asked.

Mike blinked. “Y-yes…”

Ray snarled. “Then grow a real cock. Until then, watch.”

Ray finished with a deep growl, pulling me hard against him as he emptied inside me. I clung to him, spent and shaking, my pussy fluttering around his thick cock as he pulsed and filled me.

I was wrecked. Blissfully, thoroughly ruined.

Ray pulled out with a lewd, wet sound, cum already leaking from between my thighs. I stood on shaky legs, turning slowly toward my husband.

“Come here.”

Mike crawled to me on hands and knees, reverent.

“You know what to do,” I said, parting my legs.

He pressed his face between them without hesitation, licking me clean, tongue swirling through Ray’s release. His eyes rolled back, whimpering softly, lost in the humiliation, the worship.

Ray sat back, arms behind his head, watching.

“You trained him well,” he said.

“Oh, this is only the beginning,” I purred, gripping Mike’s hair. “I think he needs to clean your cock next.”

Mike froze.

I smiled down at him. “Unless you want to disobey?”

His cage twitched. “No, Kelcy.”

Ray stood, that gorgeous cock still slick and wet with my juices and his cum. Mike turned toward it slowly, reverently, his lips parting.

And for the first time in our marriage, my husband kissed another man’s cock.

Not out of desire, but duty.

Ray moaned low as Mike’s tongue began to clean him, slowly, hesitantly, then with growing enthusiasm. It was the ultimate submission, and he knew it. This wasn’t just humiliation—it was transformation.

I ran my fingers through Mike’s hair, kissing the top of his head. “Good boy. That’s your place now.”

We didn’t rush home that night. Ray poured us drinks, and I curled up beside him on a lounge chair while Mike sat on the ground, quietly rubbing lotion into my legs like a proper husband-servant. Every now and then, Ray would grope my ass or tug me onto his lap, and Mike would watch, silent and obedient.

Before we left, Ray leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Next time, I want to tie him to the chair while I take you on the deck.”

I grinned. “You’ve got a deal.”