As she slipped into bed next to me, she was flushed and trembling. Her breathing was still hard, nervous and excited. I propped myself up on one arm and brushed a lock of hair lightly away from her face. I paused a second.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” I ask her. She knows the rule. I can see her squirm, her body adjusting in the bed, her breath still quick and shallow.
“Yes,” she says finally. Then, a second later, “Fuck I’m so fucking wet.”
I trace my fingertips slowly down her body, watching her chest quiver as it rises and falls, until they slide softly down the top of her thigh to her knee. Then I draw them teasingly up the inside of her thigh, feeling the heat pulsing from between her legs. I can tell she’s not lying just from letting my fingers hover nearby.
“Did you fuck him?”
She gives a soft, whispery moan.
“Did you?” I’m almost taunting her now, and she knows it.
“Yes.” Her voice is hushed.
“Did he make you cum?”
She nods.
“Say it. Did he make you cum?”
“Yes.”
“How many times?”
I can see her blush even in the semi-darkness.
“Twice…Wait, no. Three times.”
“Did he cum inside you?”
She doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she grasps my hand in her own and gently pushes it into the wetness oozing from her labia, drenching my fingers.
“Yes,” she whispers.
***
She had told me not to come to the final night of the production. “The cast party is afterwards,” she had said hurriedly as she pulled on her skirt and fastened her bra before heading to the show. “Lots of drunk actors and inside jokes and theatre talk. No need to come. I’ll be late. Don’t bother waiting up.” Of course, that was code that meant exactly the opposite: she had her eye on some guy and she planned to get what she wanted.
I noted the black lace panties she had chosen, as well as a see-through lace bra that she knew flattered her. I also observed that her nipples were already alert and erect through the delicate fabric as she shared the night’s plans. I guessed that she was already soaked as she considered the evening ahead. She had never been so eager to get to one of her community theatre performances, and she certainly had never worn that level of lingerie to a show. The little black dress she pulled on hurriedly left just a little to the imagination; at any rate, I knew my imagination would be busy all night.
She gave me a soft, lingering kiss and whispered that she loved me before she hurried out the door.
“Enjoy, my darling!” I had called after her as her footsteps echoed down the hall.
***
My cock was rock hard as she slowly pushed her sopping mound against my fingers. I slipped a finger easily inside her.
“Tell me.”
She told me, reciting her hotwife sex story, that he was the property manager of the building where the theatre was located. She had mentioned him in passing before: He was a business owner, with the ripped body of a construction worker who was very hands-on and attentive to the needs of his tenants. He happened to have a particular interest in theatre, had been a stagehand when he was younger, and he had become very involved in their modest community theatre project, suggesting several ways to adapt the building to improve the production. She had noticed him watching her during rehearsals. He had complimented her on a dress she had worn, and she had become more brazen, flirting with him, touching his arm and chest and back whenever the opportunity arose.
At the dress rehearsal before the final show, they were the last two in the theatre. He had been using his power drill to repair a bit of scenery and she had been putting her street clothes back on—a dress with a zip in the back. She had called him over and asked if he would zip her up. Her heart had pounded as he put down his drill and walked slowly over to where she stood in front of a makeup table with a mirror. She almost cried out when she felt his sure hands on her back, and his masculine, muscled presence behind her.
“Were you wet?” I ask her, my finger sliding slowly deeper into her.
“Fuck yes.”
He had slowly brought the zipper up and brushed her hair to the side, and softly kissed her neck. “I’d much rather zip the other direction,” he’d said. She’d felt faint, she told me, her breathing shallow, heat rising in her cheeks and between her thighs. She knew her aroused nipples poked through the thin cotton of her dress. He’d stepped back and slid his fingertips appreciatively down over the small of her back and over the curve of her ass.
“What did you do?” I asked her, sliding a second finger inside her dripping hole.
“Nothing,” she gasped, quivering.
“Tell me why not.”
“Because I liked it,” she gasped. “I loved it. I wanted him so badly.” She was breathing hard.
“What did he do next?”
“He slid his hand under my dress, between my legs, and slowly ran his fingertips up the insides of my thighs.” She could feel them hovering over the crotch of her panties, almost touching but not quite, and her perfect pussy pulsing and throbbing next to them. He’d reached around with his other hand and cupped her breast, running his fingers roughly over her hard nipple as it poked through her dress, then pulling the top of her dress down, baring her breast.
“I was so fucking wet,” she said. He slid her sopping panties to one side and touched her. As he did, he growled softly in her ear: “I’m going to fuck you so hard… I’m going to make you cum around my hard cock… I’m going send you home to your husband filled with my cum.”
“I came so hard,” she gasps now, recounting the moment to me. She gushed against his fingertips, her heat and wetness throbbing into her panties for a few moments. His hard cock smouldered against the small of her back. She had wanted desperately to fuck him right then and there, but they heard the jingle of keys as the cleaning crew opened the front door of the theatre. After a moment, they had pulled apart and she had fixed her panties and her dress.
She had managed a “See you at the cast party, then?” and he had nodded and winked. They said their goodbyes and had walked out of the theatre as if nothing had happened.
***
I told her to spread her legs, and she did so, her knees bent so that the creamy wetness of her pussy was open wide for me. I slowly kissed and licked my way up the insides of her thighs and let my tongue tease over her swollen mound and lips, tasting her, kissing her, sucking her. She moaned softly. I told her to get on her hands and knees and slowly slid my cock inside her from behind.
“Tell me what happened at the party.”
“I… I found him in the kitchen. Our eyes met right away, and he nodded his head to follow him. We got a drink from the bar in the living room. It was crowded. Loud. He leaned into my ear and whispered, ‘You’re going to follow me to a room upstairs. And listen, I want to be clear: once we get inside the door, you are mine. You will do exactly what you are told. I am going to spank you, and fuck you, and I am going to cum wherever the fuck I want. Do you understand?’ I nodded.”
I could feel her getting even wetter around my cock as she talked. I thrust deep inside her, making her cry out. “So…you followed him?”
“Uh-huh.” She began to move her hips around my cock. “He led me to an upstairs bedroom and shut the door. He told me to take off my shoes, slide my panties off from under my dress, and to get on my knees on the bed.”
I slid my hand up her back and grabbed a handful of her hair, moving my cock in slow circles inside her. “Did you do as you were told?”
“Yes.”
He knelt behind her and had slowly traced his fingertips over her body—down her back, over the curve her ass, over her breasts, up the insides of her thighs—until she was writhing and moaning for him. Then he unzipped his jeans and told her to slowly slide her tongue up his cock. She did, and then he put the head of his cock against her lips as she slowly took his shaft into her mouth.
His cock was big, bigger than she expected, bigger than mine, salty, hot, hard.
He swelled in her mouth, and he began to move back and forth, fucking her face. He moaned and she was sure he was about to cum in her mouth, but instead, he pulled out and told her to turn around and get on her hands and knees.
He pushed her dress up around her hips and let his fingertips tease over her bare ass in slow, lazy circles. Then he paused for a second and, with a quick flick of his wrist, gave her a sharp slap on her ass. She cried out and he spanked her a second time, and a third. The shock of it made her gasp for air. He slid his hand up her back and grabbed a handful of hair, and pulled her head up to kiss him, while his other hand lightly caressed her body, wandering down over her breasts and belly and hovering in front of her wet pussy. The heat and hardness of his cock resting against her ass again reminded her how large he was and how badly she wanted him inside her. She pushed back against him, whispering, “Fuck me now. Please fuck me.”
He gave his fingers a quick flick, lightly smacking her wet slit, causing her to inhale sharply.
“Ask me again,” he commanded in a flat, even tone. “I didn’t hear you.”
“Please fuck me! Please,” her voice still breathy.
“Do you want to feel my cock inside you?”
“Yes! Yes, I want it. Please!”
He pushed her face down into the bed so that her ass was high in the air, then positioned the head of his cock against her hard clit, rubbing it and her wet slit with it before placing it at the soaked entrance to her silky hole. He pushed it in slowly, savouring the moment as she cried out, her cries louder and higher pitched the deeper he penetrated. She came before he was halfway inside her, and the flood of wetness around his cock made him almost frenzied, and he fucked her hard, his cock filling her and stretching her. She could feel how full of cum he was and began to spasm with another orgasm. When he finally came, his hot seed pumping into her, overflowing, she came again.
“How much did he cum?” I ask her, my own cock ready to burst inside her.
“A lot. So much. I felt him dripping out of me the whole way home.” Her voice an urgent whisper.
I fuck her with slow, hard thrusts until I explode inside her, adding my own seed to his.
***
Three weeks later…
I can see her hands trembling a bit as she pulls the brush through her hair. I can’t help but stare at her wedding ring, my fingers idly fidgeting with the strip of silk blindfold, wrapping and rewrapping it around my own fingers. She’s quivering as she slips the silk robe over her shoulders and passes her brush through her hair. She bites her lower lip, lost in her imagination. I watch as she shifts in her seat and wonder how soaked her panties are already. I know what she is thinking about, of course. I’m thinking about the same thing. I check my phone again. He’s parked nearby, waiting for word from me. There’s a taut tension in my chest, and my cock begins to stiffen in my jeans. I slide my fingertips tenderly up her arms, wanting her more as every second passes.
“Happy Birthday. Enjoy, my darling,” I whisper.
I have to consciously steady my own hands as I pick up the silk blindfold, gently brush her hair out of her eyes, and tie it behind her head. I can hear her breathing and realise my own heart is pounding. Both of us are too nervous to say much. No matter how many times we do this, the before-feeling is always the same, a tight, exhilarating anticipation. I swear I can literally feel the blood pumping through my body. I lead her to the sofa, where she sits, her hands resting on her lap.
I sit across from her and tap out the texts on my phone: my wife is waiting for you. I tell him the apartment number and remind him the door is unlocked. We sit in silence. She squeezes her thighs together and then slowly spreads them, her hand wandering slowly between them, up them. She wants to touch herself. I wonder again how wet her pussy is, what it would look like if she pulled her panties halfway down her thighs as she sat in front of me. I imagine sliding a finger slowly inside her, her soft moan as I touched her. I’m hard now.
The click of the door lever startles me back to the present. He enters the flat slowly, deliberately, with a self-assurance I had not expected. He acknowledges me, barely, with a brief nod, and then turns his focus to her. I raise my phone, remembering suddenly to film them.
He touches her back with a light caress, then her face, lightly running his fingertips through her hair. He moves slowly, never abruptly. I wonder if she can recognise him from how intentionally he moves. If she knows his scent.
It wasn’t difficult to find him: his name was on the program, and I knew the director, so getting his number was easy. It had been a bit tricky explaining what I had in mind for her birthday surprise, but he got the idea quickly and he was clearly interested in seeing my wife again.
I watch through the camera now as he kisses her with practised, tantalising slowness: first her neck, then, a moment later, her shoulder. A few seconds later, a light caress of her breasts. Her nipples are already aroused. She opens her legs for him, trembling, and his other hand slips stealthily between them. For a second, I recall that moment in bed when I had pushed my hand against her after she had returned from being with him, the desire literally dripping from her. I had never felt her so turned on, and I wonder if she is the same way now. He bares her breasts, kissing them, and she gasps softly.
The bulge in his trousers is obvious as he runs his finger over the crotch of her panties and then begins to rub her pussy through them. My wife’s lips are parted, and she moans repeatedly as he touches her. I can feel my own cock throbbing in my jeans, watching as another man makes my wife cum in front of me.
He unzips and guides her hand to his hard cock. She must know his cock, I think, but there is no sign she recognises it as she takes it in her hand and slightly strokes it. I can tell she is impressed with its girth and hardness, and I watch her tenderness as she touches it. It’s as if she can feel the heat coming off of it and is savouring the anticipation of having it inside her mouth and her pussy.
After a few moments, he stands up and positions himself in front of where she sits on the couch, his hard cock in front of her face, and I feel a rush of pleasure and desire as she kisses the head lovingly, letting her tongue roll softly over every curve and ridge, and then sliding his hot, hard member deeper into her mouth. I am on the edge of exploding as she tastes him, feeling him throb against her tongue and lips.
His cock is swollen and ready to burst too, and he moans softly. He still hasn’t spoken, per my instructions, but he clearly can’t stop himself from groaning as she takes him deep into her mouth. I can hear his breath as he gently pushes her head back, taking his cock out of her mouth and stepping backwards, and then kneeling between her legs and slowly, deliberately, sliding her panties down her legs and off. He looks at my wife for a few moments, his cock stiffly at attention. She is a glorious sight to behold, laying back on the sofa, blindfold still on, her legs spread and her swollen, sopping pussy open and waiting. Her nipples are still rigid, and I know she is desperate to feel his cock inside her.
He kneels between her legs and kisses softly up the insides of her thighs, his fingertips teasing her slit. She cries out and spasms a little. They are completely oblivious to me now as I sit in front of them, doing everything I can to keep my hands on my phone and to continue filming. I can see my wife’s hunger for him in her face.
She gasps as he tenderly kisses her engorged cunt with maddening laziness, feeling her need and torturing her with slow licks and deep kisses, savouring her, holding her knees back and spreading open to plunge his tongue inside her.
It’s all I can do to stop myself from getting up and going over to join this man in fucking my wife. I want to bury my cock in her mouth while he slides his cock inside her, to fuck her everyway there is to fuck, to see my cum on her face, her back, her ass.
He laps gently at her honey pot one last time and then stands, unbuckles his belt, and slides his trousers slowly off. His cock, stiff and heavy, sways as he pulls them over his feet. He positions himself above my wife’s splayed body, kisses her lips, and then pushes the head of his swollen cock inside her. My wife cries out, moaning as he slides inside her, stretching her. My cock is pulsing, straining to be released as he fucks her with deep, slow strokes, making her gasp with each thrust. She strokes his chest and face adoringly, her moans are high pitched and desperate.
He holds her face for a second, and then slips off the silk blindfold. I can she her shock for a moment and her smile as she sees who it is. She looks over at me, and her eyes light up as they meet mine. She grabs his buttocks, pushing him deeper into her. To watch another man make your wife come is an extraordinary sensation: I watch the ecstasy in her face as he moves his cock inside her, each thrust sending her further towards the edge. I struggle to restrain myself from stroking myself, though I am rock hard. I know the slightest touch will cause me to blow my load in my jeans.
He pulls out and turns her around to take her from behind, and she is looking me in the eye when he slides into her. She is so slick from him. Her gaze locks on mine as he fucks her. His cock is large, larger than mine, and he clearly knows how to use it, and I see him filling her, stretching her in front of me. She moans, gasping as she rises to climax, staring into my eyes.
He explodes inside her with a grunt, filling her to overflowing. I know this because I can see his cum dripping slowly from her. She is still on her hands and knees, her ass tilted upwards for him, and for me, when he gets up and pulls on his trousers and walks out silently out of the apartment. She’s still breathing hard as the door closes and latches behind him.
She slowly turns over, laying back on the sofa and letting her fingertips tease over her nipples and licks her lips. I stand up and unzip my jeans. She spreads her legs wide for me, and I watch as his cum seeps from her swollen opening.
“Enjoy, my darling,” she purrs.
The End
Read all about the wonderful author: Trip Fleming
