Put your cock deep inside my pussy.

My name is Kylie Rocket. I'm 32, married, and run the admin side of a small family manufacturing business in Birmingham, England. My husband, Tom, had a bad accident five years ago that left him paralysed from the waist down. We adapted therapy, home modifications, the works but intimacy vanished. At first, the hospital runs and learning to manage the factory kept me too busy to notice. The kids were away at boarding school, so the house was quiet.

Things ran smoothly after a while. I mastered the accounts, supplier deals, everything. Tom was proud. But with the routine settled, the ache returned. Nights, I'd remember how Tom used to flip me over, take me hard, make me come until I couldn't breathe. Now nothing. Some evenings he'd try to touch me, but his body just wouldn't respond. I'd end up frustrated, unable to sleep.

He felt it too. "I'm twenty again when I think of you, love," he'd say with a sad smile. On good days we'd cuddle, kiss, but it never went further. One night he was too tired even for that. I waited till he was asleep, then slipped a thick carrot from the fridge between my legs, working it slowly until I gasped too loud. Tom woke.

"Kylie? What are you doing?"

I burst into tears. "I can't control it anymore. It's been days. I can't focus at work. I'm sorry."

He pulled me close. "Hey, you're not mad. It's normal. Go to sleep, we'll figure it out."

A week later I was back to the carrot in secret. Tom caught me again. This time he watched quietly, then said, "That won't be enough forever. If there's someone you fancy your sister's husband, your friend Sarah's bloke get close to them. Sort yourself out. I won't judge. I just want you happy."

I was furious. "You're seriously telling your wife to sleep with another man? No. I won't cheat."

But he kept at it gently, every night. "With my blessing, it's not cheating. It's us staying together." Part of me started wondering. Who could I even approach? Everyone respected me as the boss's wife.

Then a big client invited us to his daughter's wedding in Coventry six-hour drive. The ceremony spanned evening and morning, so an overnight stay was needed. Originally I was going alone with our driver, but Tom insisted on safety. "Take a friend."

I called my best mate, Rachel. She's stunning tall, elegant, looks like a temple statue. Two kids, husband works away in London, comes home once a month. She hesitated about work, but when I said Coventry her face lit up. "I'm in."

In the car she phoned someone. "I've left. Be there by two." She grinned mysteriously when I asked who. Her phone kept buzzing. "No, I won't… Mmm, behave… My friend's with me today." She lied to the driver it was Tom calling.

Our suite at the Premier Inn was booked as one big room everything else full for the wedding. Rachel asked for separate rooms; reception said no chance. She sighed and agreed to share.

I grew suspicious. Once inside she confessed. "There's a guy here, Chris. We met online. My husband's away so much, I get lonely. Chris and I meet once a week when I'm in the area. That's why I came."

"You're cheating on Mark?"

"Mark brags about other women. He's even slept with my sister in front of me once. Why should I suffer?"

She planned to meet Chris that evening. I told her to enjoy herself and headed to the wedding.

At five I returned briefly. She was glowing. "Wait meet him first."

The bell rang. Rachel opened the door naked under a robe. In walked Chris mid-30s, curly dark hair, red-toned skin, thick moustache, muscled arms, confident smile. He greeted me politely, eyes roaming my body shamelessly. I felt heat rise. Rachel pinched me. "You're drooling. Go."

I left jealous. All through the reception I pictured them together her perfect body under his. My knickers were soaked. I decided: tonight I needed him too.

Back at the room, Rachel answered nude, exhausted, sheets wrecked. Chris had just left. She curled up, spent.

I couldn't stand it. I climbed in, hugged her tight. Her soft skin felt incredible after years without touch. I pressed against her, grinding slowly. She woke. "Kylie?"

"I'm sorry. Tom's accident… no sex since. Then seeing you two today… I can't take it."

She laughed softly. "Poor thing." She rolled on top, straddling me, rocking her hips against mine. The friction drove me wild. "Please… use your fingers," I begged.

She slid down, slipped a hand inside my nightie, parted me, rubbed circles on my clit, then pushed two fingers in deep. I moaned, imagining Chris. "Kylie, you're calling his name," she teased.

"Sorry I…"

"I knew you fancied him. Hold on." She phoned him. "Come back. There's another treat waiting."

Half an hour later Chris returned. Rachel grinned. "She's never been with anyone else. Show her what she's missed. Don't hold back."

She sat in the lounge while Chris approached. I lay face-down, shy. He lay beside me. "I'm going to fuck you now, Kylie."

The blunt words sent shivers through me. His hands cupped my breasts from behind, kneading. His hard cock pressed against my arse. He licked my neck, bit my earlobe, reached round to stroke me. "Your pussy feels so soft."

I turned, kissed him desperately. He stripped my nightie off. I gripped his thick cock longer and harder than Tom's ever was. It throbbed in my hand. I stroked it, guided the head to my entrance, rubbed it along my slit.

He pushed in slowly. The stretch burned sweetly. Once fully inside he thrust steadily, building speed. I wrapped my legs around him, moaning his name. He pounded hard, hands squeezing my breasts. Pleasure coiled tight. I came hard, shaking, crying out.

He didn't stop kept driving until another orgasm hit, then another. Finally he groaned, buried deep, and filled me with hot spurts. I passed out in bliss.

That night Rachel and I took turns with him until dawn.

Back home I told Tom everything, stroking him as I spoke. He listened, aroused. The next week he invited Chris over. Tom watched from his chair while Chris took me again. Later Tom wanted Rachel too; Chris convinced her.

Now Rachel and I share Chris regularly. Tom smiles, content we're all satisfied.