Midnight Pool: Sharing My Wife's Stocking Cock With Our Best Friend

The underwater lights turned the private backyard pool into a glowing turquoise bowl against the black of midnight. Mark floated on his back near the deep end, watching steam rise off the surface into the warm California night. His best friend Chris treaded water a few feet away, but neither man’s eyes stayed on the stars or the privacy fence. They kept drifting back to Lena.

She stood on the submerged steps in the shallow end, water lapping at the tops of her thighs. Sheer black stockings clung to her long, smooth legs like a second skin, darkened and glossy where the pool water soaked them. A matching garter belt framed the hard V of her hips; the straps dug lightly into the pale flesh of her upper thighs. Black stilettos with thin straps around her ankles kept her elevated even in the water, heels clicking softly whenever she shifted on the tiled step. She wore nothing else. Her full breasts, nipples tight from the night air and the cool water, rose and fell with each slow breath. Between her legs her cock hung heavy and half-hard already, the shaft pink and thick, the head just beginning to push free of its foreskin. The wet silk of her stockings framed it perfectly.

Chris didn’t bother hiding the way he stared. His mouth was slightly open. Mark felt his own cock thicken under the water just from watching his friend watch his wife.

Lena caught Chris looking and smiled, slow and wicked. She slid one hand down her stomach, fingers tracing the wet garter straps, then cupped her cock through the clinging fabric of nothing at all—just skin and the frame of silk. She stroked herself openly, thumb circling the head until a clear bead of precum welled up and smeared under her fingertip. The stockings whispered when her thighs pressed together.

“Like what you see, Chris?” Her voice carried easily across the quiet water. “You’ve been staring at my legs all night. Or is it this?” She gave her cock a slow, deliberate pump, the wet sound filthy in the stillness.

Chris swallowed hard. “Fuck, Lena… you know I do. Those stockings. The way they stick to you when they’re wet. And that cock. Christ.”

Mark swam closer, water sluicing off his shoulders. He came up behind Lena, pressed a kiss to the wet curve of her neck, and reached around to cover her hand with his own. Together they stroked her thickening shaft. Mark’s cock rubbed against the small of her back under the water.

“She’s been teasing you on purpose,” Mark said, voice rough. “Wore the stockings just for the pool. Knew you’d lose your mind.”

Lena leaned back into her husband, hips rolling so her cock slid through their joined fists. The garters stretched tight. Water dripped from her hair down between her breasts. “I love how hungry you look, Chris. Mark and I talk about it sometimes. How you can’t keep your eyes off me when I dress like this.”

Chris moved closer until he stood on the step below her, chest deep. Up close the scent of chlorine mixed with Lena’s skin and the faint musk of her arousal. His eyes flicked from her glossy stocking-clad thighs to the stiffening cock she and Mark were lazily jacking.

“I can’t help it,” Chris admitted. “Every time she wears those things I get hard. And knowing what’s between her legs… fuck. I jerk off thinking about it more than I should.”

Mark’s free hand slid down to cup Lena’s balls, rolling them gently while she stroked the shaft. He looked at his friend over her shoulder. “I know. I’ve seen the way you look. And I’ve always… Christ, I’ve always wanted to share this with you. Watch you touch her. Taste her. Feel how good her stocking cock feels in your mouth and your ass.”

Lena’s breath hitched. Her cock jumped in their hands, growing fully hard now—thick, maybe eight inches, curved slightly upward, veins standing out along the shaft. The head was flushed dark and shiny with precum that mixed with pool water.

“Mark,” she whispered, turning her head to kiss him wet and open-mouthed. “You finally said it out loud.”

“I’ve been thinking it for years.” Mark’s voice was thick. He kept stroking her, slow and filthy, twisting his wrist on the upstroke the way she liked. “Sharing my wife’s beautiful cock with my best friend. Watching you suck her while she’s still in these wet stockings and heels. Watching you fuck her or get fucked by her. Both of us taking turns until she’s dripping and shaking.”

Chris’s cock was a rigid line under the water, obvious. He reached out, hesitated only a second, then laid his palm flat on Lena’s stocking-covered thigh. The silk was slick and cool. He slid upward until his fingers brushed the garter strap and the bare heat of her hip.

“I want that,” Chris said, rough. “I’ve wanted it every time I’ve been over here and she’s walked past in lingerie. Every time I’ve caught a glimpse of her cock tenting a skirt. Mark, I want to suck your wife’s dick. I want to feel those stockings against my face while I do it.”

Lena moaned softly and pushed her hips forward, presenting herself. “Then get out of the water and come taste me. Both of you. I’m done teasing.”

They climbed out dripping. The night air was warm but still made their skin prickle. Lena didn’t dry off. She walked to the edge of the pool in just the soaked black stockings, garter belt, and stilettos, water sheeting down her body and darkening the concrete. She sat on the wide tiled coping, legs spreading wide, heels braced on the lower ledge so her thighs framed her cock perfectly. The sheer stockings clung to every curve of calf and thigh; the garters pulled taut. Her cock stood straight up against her stomach, flushed and leaking a steady clear string that dripped onto the tile between her spread legs. She wrapped her fingers around it and stroked lazily, eyes half-lidded, watching the two men.

Mark and Chris stood dripping in front of her, cocks hard and ignored for the moment. Mark’s was thick and familiar; Chris’s was longer, slightly curved. Lena looked from one to the other and smiled.

“Mark told you he fantasizes about sharing me,” she said, voice low and filthy. “Tell me you want it too, Chris. Tell me you want my cock while he watches.”

Chris stepped between her open knees. Up close he could smell her—clean water and hot skin and the sharp scent of precum. He dropped to his knees on the wet concrete without being asked. His hands slid up her stocking-clad calves, feeling the slick nylon, the hard muscle beneath, the thin straps of the heels. He leaned in and pressed his mouth to the inside of one thigh, just above the knee, licking a drop of water from the silk.

“I want it,” he said against her skin. “I want to suck your cock while Mark watches. I want to taste how hard you get in these stockings. I want you to fuck my throat and then fuck my ass if you want. I’ve thought about it so many times.”

Mark moved to stand beside his wife, one hand stroking her wet hair, the other reaching down to stroke his own cock slowly. “Do it,” he encouraged, voice hoarse. “Put your mouth on her. I’ve jacked off so many nights imagining this exact thing. Your lips stretched around my wife’s pretty cock while she’s still dripping wet in her garters.”

Lena kept stroking herself, angling the head toward Chris’s mouth. A thick bead of precum welled and spilled over. “Taste me, baby. Show my husband how much you want his wife’s stocking cock.”

Chris leaned in. His tongue dragged first along the underside of her shaft, hot and wet, collecting the mix of pool water and her juices. Lena’s hips twitched. He opened wider and took the head into his mouth, sucking gently, tongue swirling. The salty-sweet burst of her precum coated his tongue. He groaned around her and sank lower, taking more, until his nose brushed the soft skin of her lower belly and the wet silk of a garter strap touched his cheek.

Mark watched, stroking himself faster, eyes locked on the sight of his best friend’s lips stretched around his wife’s thick cock. “Fuck, look at you. Taking her so deep already. Does she taste good?”

Chris pulled off with a wet pop, spit connecting his bottom lip to her shiny head. “So fucking good. Thick and hard and perfect. The stockings make it hotter—feeling them against my face while I suck her.” He dove back down, sucking harder now, one hand wrapping the base of her cock while the other stroked up and down her nylon-covered thigh.

Lena’s head fell back. She planted one stiletto heel more firmly and rolled her hips, fucking shallowly into Chris’s willing mouth. “That’s it… suck my cock. Mark, watch him. Watch our friend choke on me.”

Mark leaned down and kissed her, tongues sliding, while Chris bobbed and slurped noisily between her legs. The wet sounds of sucking mixed with the quiet lap of the pool and Lena’s soft moans. Every time Chris took her deep the garters stretched and the wet stockings whispered against his cheeks and shoulders.

Mark broke the kiss and spoke against her mouth. “I want to watch him fuck you next. Or you fuck him. I want both. I want to take turns with your cock until neither of us can walk straight. But first I want to see you come down his throat while I stroke myself and tell him what a good boy he is for sucking my wife.”

Lena’s cock throbbed hard in Chris’s mouth. She was getting close already from the heat of the fantasy finally happening, from the way Chris worshipped her without hesitation, from her husband’s filthy encouragement.

Chris pulled off again just long enough to look up at both of them, lips shiny, eyes dark with lust. “I want that too. I want her to fuck me while you hold me open. I want to taste her cum and then feel her cum again inside me. Mark… thank you for sharing her. She’s perfect like this.”

He swallowed her cock again, deeper, throat working. Lena cried out and tangled her fingers in his wet hair, holding him there while she fucked up into his mouth in short, sharp thrusts. The stilettos scraped the tile. Water still dripped from the soaked tops of her stockings onto Chris’s shoulders.

Mark stroked himself harder, free hand cupping one of Lena’s breasts, pinching the nipple. “That’s it, baby. Use his mouth. He’s wanted this as long as I have. Give him a load to swallow and then we’re going to bend him over the lounge chair and take turns with that pretty ass while you stay in those wet stockings the whole time.”

Lena’s thighs trembled. Chris sucked greedily, one hand now cupping and rolling her balls, the other gripping the back of her stocking-clad thigh hard enough to leave faint marks through the silk. The tension coiled tight between all three of them—hot, unfinished, ready to explode into something even filthier the second she let go and flooded Chris’s throat.

She wasn’t there yet. She held the edge, fucking his face with controlled rolls of her hips, savoring every second of her husband’s best friend on his knees for her cock while Mark watched with pure hungry approval. The night was still young. The pool lights still glowed. And neither man was going anywhere until they’d both had their fill of her.

Chris’s throat worked greedily around Lena’s thick cock, spit running down her balls and dripping onto the wet silk of her stockings. She held the edge for one more second, hips rolling in controlled thrusts that made the stilettos scrape tile, then finally let go. A long groan tore out of her as she flooded his mouth—hot, heavy spurts that Chris swallowed like he’d been starving for them. Mark stroked himself harder watching every pulse, whispering filthy praise while Lena’s thighs shook and the garters dug into her flesh.

She pulled Chris up by the hair, kissing the taste of her own cum off his lips. “More,” she panted. “I want you both buried in me.”

They half-dragged, half-stumbled to the nearest lounge chair. Lena stayed in the soaked stockings and heels, cock still rigid and shiny. She shoved Chris back down onto his knees right in front of her and planted her stilettoed feet wide. The sheer black nylon stretched taut across her upper thighs, framing the heavy shaft that jutted out. Chris leaned in without hesitation and mouthed her cock through the thin strip of wet silk where the stockings and garter met—sucking the outline of her head, tasting chlorine and precum through the fabric. The sensation made Lena curse and shove her hips forward.

“Fuck yes—suck it through the stocking, you dirty bastard.”

Chris groaned and tore a ragged hole in the sheer crotch with both hands, the nylon ripping wetly. Her bare cock sprang free through the tear. He lunged and deepthroated her in one smooth slide, nose buried against her belly, the ruined silk scraping his cheeks. Lena’s head tipped back; she tangled both hands in his hair and fucked his throat with short, brutal strokes while Mark climbed onto the lounge behind her.

Mark straddled the chair so his thick cock hovered above her face. Lena opened wide and took him to the root, gagging happily as he started fucking her mouth from above. Spit ran down her chin onto her tits. Below, Chris kept choking himself on her stocking-framed cock, one hand now wrapped around his own aching length. Lena reached down blindly, found Chris’s shaft, and stroked him in time with the thrusts Mark was giving her throat. The wet, filthy sounds of two cocks being sucked and one being jerked filled the midnight air.

“Goddamn, look at her,” Mark growled, hips snapping. “My wife taking both of us like she was made for it. That pretty stocking cock down your throat while she milks you, Chris—”

Chris pulled off with a gasp, lips swollen. “Need her ass. Now.”

They spun her around. Lena braced her hands on the lounge cushion, back arched, ass presented high. The wet stockings clung to every curve of her long legs; the torn crotch gaped around her still-hard cock and balls. Chris spit on his fingers, rubbed two of them over her tight hole, then pushed the head of his longer cock against her. He sank in with one steady thrust. Lena’s moan vibrated around Mark’s shaft as her husband fed it back into her mouth.

Chris bottomed out and started pounding her doggy-style, balls slapping the wet silk of her thighs, hands gripping the garter straps like reins. Every thrust drove her forward onto Mark’s cock. She took them both, throat and ass stretched, cock swinging and leaking between her legs. Mark held her hair and watched his best friend wreck her, the sight so hot he had to slow down or blow immediately.

“Harder,” Lena gasped when she pulled off Mark for air. “Fill me up, Chris. Mark’s next—I want both your loads dripping out of me.”

Chris’s rhythm turned savage. He reached under and stroked her cock through the torn stocking while he fucked her, twisting his wrist the way Mark had shown him earlier. Lena came again with a broken cry, painting the lounge cushion in thick ropes while her ass clenched around Chris. That finished him. He slammed deep and unloaded, pulse after pulse flooding her guts until it started leaking out around his shaft when he finally pulled free.

Mark didn’t waste a second. He stepped behind her, lined up, and sank into the hot, cum-slick mess Chris had left. The glide was filthy and perfect. Lena pushed back onto him, still hungry, and reached for both of their cocks—Chris’s softening but already twitching again, Mark’s buried inside her. She jerked them in messy tandem while Mark fucked Chris’s load deeper into her ass.

“Come on my stockings,” she ordered, voice wrecked and filthy. “Both of you. Paint these wet thighs and my tits. I want to feel it dripping down the silk.”

Mark lasted maybe ten more thrusts before he yanked out, grabbed his cock, and painted thick white stripes across the glossy black nylon covering her thighs and up onto the undersides of her full breasts. Chris stepped in close; Lena’s fist flew on him until he erupted too, adding his second load across her stockings, her heaving tits, and the still-hard shaft of her own cock. She milked every drop onto herself, then smeared it into the sheer fabric with both hands, looking thoroughly wrecked and radiant.

They collapsed together for a minute, breathing hard, hands still roaming over cum-streaked stockings and sweat-slick skin. Then Lena laughed softly and tugged them both toward the glowing turquoise water.

The three of them slid back into the warm pool, the underwater lights painting Lena’s cum-painted body in shifting blue. She wrapped a hand around each of their spent cocks beneath the surface and started stroking with slow, filthy intent, thumbing the heads until both began to thicken again despite everything. Mark kissed her deep and open-mouthed; Chris took his turn right after, tasting Mark on her tongue.

“Next weekend,” Lena whispered against their lips, still jacking them under the water. “You’re staying over, Chris. I want you on your knees worshipping this stocking cock all Friday night, all Saturday, until Mark and I have to pour you into an Uber. I want you both taking turns in my ass and my mouth until I can’t walk. Promise me.”

Mark nipped her ear. “He’s already got the guest room. Or our bed. I’m not picky as long as I get to watch you split him open again.”

Chris groaned as her fist tightened. “Fuck yes. I’ll bring more stockings. And lube. Lots of lube.”

They floated there trading slow kisses while Lena worked them back toward hardness, the night air cool on their shoulders and the pool lights turning every ripple filthy and beautiful. Mark eventually cracked a grin, glancing down at the sticky mess still clinging to her thighs underwater.

“Just so we’re clear,” he said, “next time somebody else is cleaning the lounge cushions. I am not explaining this to the pool guy.”