I travel during the week for my work and typically am home Fridays through Sundays. But, occasionally, a client requires my services through the weekend for meetings with employees. This happened awhile back, shortly before we purchased our most recent home.
Fortunately my wife is an understanding sort. That Saturday morning, she chose to wash her sedan and clean the deck of our back patio.
She wears a bikini when washing the car. To avoid becoming a neighborhood spectacle, she drives it around to the side of our home. This time, it was a dim, early morning while neighbors were assumed to be sleeping. She instead backed it out of the garage and onto our front driveway.
An 18-year old student, who lives with his parents several doors away, was walking the family’s golden retriever. Like most people these days, neither of us knows our neighbors well. Although we wave to anyone we might encounter when driving by, we recognize only a few. We didn’t know this young man or his family at all.
His dog tugged away from his grip, toward my wife. He glanced up to her and apologized for his pet’s enthusiasm.
She grinned, “That’s okay. I like dogs.” She leaned to pet its head and added, “My husband’s working out of town this weekend. Thought I’d clean the car and hose down our back patio.”
“I could help,” he said. “I have nothing else to do, aside from babysitting the family dog. My parents are visiting my Mom’s sister ‘til tomorrow night.” He didn’t wait for her to accept his offer. He announced he would take the dog home and return shortly.
My wife smiled. She knew why he was eager to help; she knows she looks good in a bikini.
This red swimsuit is briefer than most. Its bottom consists of two small triangular patches at front and back, secured by narrow laces at each side. She is slender, 5’9”, with long legs, long brown hair and brown eyes. Her breasts aren’t large but certainly well formed.
The “helpful” neighbor, she would learn, had just graduated from high school at that summer’s beginning. He would be attending a technical college in an adjoining town when September rolled around. He wore glasses and was about my wife’s height, lean and fit, with black hair and hazel eyes.
When he returned, he was shirtless, wearing baggies and flip-flops and carrying extra, worn towels. After cleaning and wiping down the rims, he opened the hood and degreased the engine. Neither of those chores was the sort of detailing my wife would normally perform. When he was finished, lines of grease had smudged his loose swimsuit.
They traded jokes as they moved around the back patio furniture and soaped down our wooden patio where our hot tub sits. An 18-year old wouldn’t normally have appealed to her; but, as she got to know him, she judged him as intelligent, personable, funny and surprisingly mature. His smooth, tight body wasn’t bad either.
She noticed his fleeting looks at her legs. And, each time she leaned or kneeled in his direction, she spotted him glancing to her cleavage. His pole now had risen to semi-tumescence, creating a conspicuous bulge in his loose shorts. With both working, they were through in less than fifteen minutes.
When she got around to telling me me about her developing lust during their time together, I wasn’t surprised. At my suggestion, my wife then had dated six guys, all but one for short terms. His obvious interest in her body had an effect on her. She would later tell me that it made her “stomach hurt.” Her groin pulsed. She had set a rule, shortly after having dated a coworker, that she would never date another coworker or a neighbor.
Actually, she had by then already broken her work rule anyway. Her company’s regional manager visits the branch office about every other month. The 40-year old had invited her to dinner one night after meeting and talking with her in the company’s parking lot. They ended the night of drinking and dancing by retiring to his hotel room. He was pounding her ***** until 2:00 a.m.
She told me later that, by rough comparison, his seven and a half inch **** makes my four and half inches seem minuscule. He and my wife are still *******, at whatever hotel where he stays, almost every time he’s in town. Although her branch office supervisors are unaware of this affair, they realize instinctively that their boss would never stand for anyone to cross my wife.
But this young guy was particularly appealing and clearly interested in her body. She now wondered whether she might be too judicious about that rule.
As he rolled up the backyard hose, she said, “Really appreciated that. I can wash your swimsuit as a small return to your favor.”
He reminded her that he’d be without clothes but added as a joke, “Might be fun though.”
She responded, “We could sit in the hot tub until it’s dry. We don’t use suits there anyway.” She didn’t wait for a protest and told him, “Go take a shower first. I’ll get us something to drink. You want cola or beer?”
“Beer sounds good,” he said to his back as he walked through the patio door and down the hall to the shower.
She showered in another bathroom and was walking out in a translucent bathrobe as he walked out of the bathroom. He handed her his swimsuit. He wore a white terry towel about his waist. His eyes lowered to her nipples standing out against the thin robe.
She looked down and gasped at his sizeable, rigid **** protruding beneath the towel and made no effort to hide her stare.
After dropping his baggies in the washer, she stood alongside the hot tub in which he sat. She chatted casually, untying her robe and dropping it to the patio floor. She stepped into the bubbling water, handed him his beer and sat alongside him.
“My shoulders are sore,” she said.
He said, “I’ll massage ‘em if you want.”
“Yeah,” she breathed, “Please.” She shifted her body and sat between his long legs. Her bare buttocks parked firmly against his groin.
He kneaded her shoulders and neck. His heavy, elongated **** rested at the lower portion of her back and throbbed lustily against her spine.
The erotic stroking caused her to shiver wantonly. She wriggled closer, her flesh massaging his ****. He groaned amid the heat of their mutual desire. His hands slid down her back and around to grasp the fullness of her breasts.
She closed her eyes and whimpered as his long fingers brushed her sensitive nipples that now were standing out like spikes.
MY WIFE GETS ******
My wife’s neck leaned back onto his shoulder. She turned her face to his, allowing him to kiss her full on the mouth. Her lips quivered.
He lifted her from the hot tub and sat her butt onto the tiled floor. Her legs opened as he stood in the hot tub before her.
She glanced down, now seeing his massive member in its full glory for the first time. She wantonly reached out to his hefty log and traced her fingers along its upper side, from its base to its impressive head. Its fresh dampness accentuated the sleekness of his considerable length. Two large veins pulsed across its broad upperside, tracing from its base to its broad head.
The swollen, walnut shaped ***** head swayed freely, level with her *****, and its swollen tip brushed her cuntal lips. He leaned to nurse the firmness of a breast.
Her body shimmied apprehensively. She pressed her thighs together in an attempt to quell the anxious fervor in her ****.
She thought, “I’ve already crossed the line. What else do I have to lose?” She leaned forward, studying his strong, veined member. Her trembling lips opened and her tongue lashed the head. He moaned. She sucked, pulling it deeply to the back of her throat. Her long, wet tongue rolled across its underside as her head bobbed urgently over his pole.
His hands gripped her ears and he rotated his groin, groaning with each thrust.
She withdrew. Her fists grasped the young guy’s pulsating ****, squeezed it urgently and whispered, “You wanna **** me?”
He nodded affirmatively and she led him by a hand out of the tub, through the sliding door and down the hallway to our bedroom. Her eyes rolled aside to stare at his ****, bobbing vitally with each step. Her **** creamed.
She shivered, plopping her back onto our marital bed. He suckled a breast, his lips moving down her stomach to her bare mound. His tongue lapped her *****.
Wrapping her long legs about his neck, she whimpered. Her hips gyrated. Ripples of pleasure shivered through her body. She thrashed her head side to side and wailed as his wet tongue manipulated her responsive clitoris.
She pleaded, “Do it! Do me now!”
He parted her legs, kneeled between her thighs and gripped his ****. He guided its massive head into the mouth of her quivering ****.
Her throat twittered joyfully as his python slithered into her lubricated ****, until its broad tip was fully submerged deeply within her womb.
His baton hammered through her cuntal walls. Her long legs curled around his hips, her heels locking at his back. Her groin gyrated delightedly as the broad **** packed her creaming tunnel. His large balls slapped her buttocks.
Perspiration beaded about her forehead, then streamed in crystal rivulets down her face. She licked the salty liquid from her lips, moaning and wailing in the intensity of their shared needs.
My wife looked down to the big rod now battering her cavern. She cried out, “It’s so ******’ big! You’re hitting my cervix! Oh yeah! **** me! **** me hard!”
He slammed into her. Her mouth opened wide, yowling in bliss at the monster burrowing through her steaming channel.
They whimpered in unison. Her hips fervently rose and fell in tempo with his grand thrusts. Her body shimmied. She dug her heels into the mattress, arching her hips, allowing his elongated shaft to penetrate her ****'s full depth. His **** sank to its base.
Her head gyrated wildly as she howled, "**** me!"
His passionate momentum intensified. Although fully impaled, she begged for more until she squirmed and writhed amid a storm of multiple *******.
He stiffened and groaned as she commenced a shuddering climax. His hot lava erupted deep within her ****’s hidden recesses. As they were simultaneously *******, each whined thankfully to the other.
They lay side by side, hugging until she sucked his **** back to rigidity. She gripped his youthful ****, directing it yet again into her wanton *****.
Young guys can do that. He spent the rest of the day and night, ******* her again and again ‘til morning rays spilled through our bedroom’s blinds.
I was working out of town until the following Friday. He stayed overnight with my wife every night before my return except that Thursday. She had a date that evening with another fuckbuddy she had been seeing about once monthly for the previous year.
We had moved to our new home by the time he began college that September. Their meetings were less frequent, but the two had become tight friends. He still lived at home with his parents and drove the 35 miles one-way to classes daily.
MEETING HIS FRIEND’S FRIEND
His parents had never learned about their affair, but he told a long-time high school friend who now attended the technical college’s classes with him. The friend didn’t believe him at first, but he wanted to meet my wife.
When he confided this to her and asked whether that would be okay, she said, “Sure, bring him by for a social visit sometime.” She was told he didn’t live anywhere near us and therefore wouldn’t be a threat for gossip.
My wife is a secretary for an insurance company’s large branch office. She was sitting at her desk when she received her fuckbuddy’s phone call at her office the Wednesday following their agreement. She acquiesced to meeting his friend that night at our home around 7:00.
At the appointed time, she had showered and wore a thin, low-cut, button-up yellow patterned dress with nothing beneath. She left the top two eyelets unbuttoned. She hadn’t added makeup but doesn’t need it anyway; her skin and full lips are virtually flawless.
She prepared coffee and opened a package of snacks she had purchased on her way home. She dimmed the living room lights upon hearing the doorbell.
My wife greeted both at the door, shook his friend’s hand and smiled, “Nice to meet you.”
She ushered them in and offered coffee and snacks. The 20-year-old guest’s name is Bill; he’s 5’11”, a couple inches taller and more muscular than her young friend. Bill’s thick, brown hair was cropped short.
He was a smoker. She shuffled through a side table’s drawer and found an ashtray for him. They sat with legs crossed, lotus-style, on the floor around our coffee table, with steaming cups and cakes resting on the tabletop.
Although the guest knew the answer, he went through a series of chatting questions, “So you’re married, huh?” “How’d you two meet?” “Does your husband know?”
Satisfied that his school friend had been completely truthful, he leaned his back against the couch and let out a breath, saying, “Wow! Makes me curious, though. Do you date other guys too?”
She said, “Yeah! Didn’t he tell you that?” His friend hadn’t mentioned that minor point. She went on, “I just love sex. Because my husband knows, I’m not really cheating.”
She stood and said, “Would you two like to join me in the hot tub?” You can imagine the enthusiasm her question provoked.
They followed her through the patio door. Standing on a quilted blanket alongside the tub, each ******** down. Her friend’s **** was semi-tumescent.
But what now caught her attention was Bill’s six-and-a-half-inch pole. His rod was hard as a rock and curved up to his belly. Her heart skipped a beat as she stared at the purplish veins that spider-webbed across its length. She suppressed a gasp that would have betrayed her lust for this youth's handsome ****.
The only lighting was that of the half moon and a glimmer from a distant street lamp beyond our back fence, on the road behind our home. Bill’s smooth dickhead gleamed in the dim glow.
The guys plopped into the bubbling water, one at each side of her. Bill said, “Man, this is the life. If our classmates could see us now!” Her young friend said, “Yeah, they’d all want to be here.”
Both sat closely enough that their bare flesh rested against my wife’s naked body.
They fell silent. Her young buddy leaned to give her a lingering kiss full on the lips. She responded with a moan, stroking his face with a hand.
Bill hesitantly reached to caress a breast. My wife’s hands wandered down their chests and stomachs until her fists curled around their dicks. She muttered, “Oh, those thingies feel delightful!”
The boys gasped as she fondled their pulsing *****. Bill breathed, “Whenever I look for a wife, I want one just like you.”
She stood, took each by the hand and said, “Be careful what you ask for. Not many husbands can handle wives like me.” She noticed Bill staring at her shaven mound.
She led them out of the hot tub, to our living room, and kneeled on all fours before her longer-time friend. She fisted his long **** and took it into her mouth.
Bill kneeled behind her and guided his rod to the mouth of her ***** from the rear, sliding it deep into her creamy furrows. She squealed joyously at the welcome invasion. Her lips clamped firmly onto the **** she was sucking.
Both guys thrust into her. Bills hands clenched her buttocks as he rammed his pole through her hot cuntal walls.
She *********** with a hand while gyrating her hips to heighten Bill’s thrusts. Her head bobbed furiously onto her lover’s rod.
Her pre-orgasmic sensations affirmed that she would soon be coming with tremendous passion. Over and over again, she mumbled, "I love it!" but, with her writhing tongue and her mouth full of wet ****, she wasn't sure they could understand her words.
“I’m gonna ***,” Bill groaned. His body went rigid and then his mass of ***** splashed through her ****.
She moaned as the **** erupted into her throat. She gulped and gulped again, swallowing his white lava to the last drop. The three collapsed onto the carpet, side by side.
Although my wife had then climaxed, her fervent ecstasy hadn't subsided. She lay on her back and *********** as each guy mouthed a breast. She wailed, “I’m a' cummin’! Again!” Her body shuddered in waves of pleasure.
Rolling to her side, she said, “That was fun! Would both of you care to spend the night?” They did, after each phoned home.
They still get together, whenever their schedules allow. Occasionally, they’re a *********, but most often they’re with her one-on-one. She calls their sessions “penetrating conversations” with “deep input.”
They have allowed me to watch only a few times. When I have that opportunity, I sit quietly in a corner chair and **********. My wife, though, prefers to be alone with each of them. The reason she gives me for this is that it’s difficult for her young partners to “open up” with full emotions if I’m around.
I understand that and don’t bug them about this. I await them to mutually invite me to watch.