' Do My Pretty Wife… but let me watch ' …(Megan, Part 3)

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Bertram W Bronson
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' Do My Pretty Wife… but let me watch ' …(Megan, Part 3)

Unread post by Bertram W Bronson » Sat Dec 10, 2011 4:33 pm

“Do My Pretty Wife… but let me watch” … (Megan, Part 3)

The continuation of a shy wife story by:

Bertram W. Bronson

Part 3… {{{Stretch your wife out on the bed and lock the door, I have another key}}}


The handsome young man stood, waist deep in the swimming pool, his dark eyes fixated on my wife's pretty face. Pressing his palms against the pool ledge, like a slithering seal, he was out of the water in a flash, muscles wet and glistening, quickly up on his knees, rivulets of water running down his strong thighs, running off the end of his long limber penis. With the smooth grace of an athlete he rose to his feet, his lengthy wet penis swaying and flopping against his thigh. I heard my wife's gasp of breath as the ruggedly handsome young guy grabbed a towel and knotted it around his waist. In two quick strides, his bare wet feet closed the meager ten feet that separated their eyes.

Handsome as a Greek Adonis, the young man was suddenly squatted by my wife's feet. For several seconds, they looked silently into each other’s eyes, some magnetic force of nature moving between them… pulling them toward an act as old as time. Eyes beginning to drift, her’s on the slant of his handsome head, on the broad flare of his shoulders… his dropping to my wife's perky breasts, then back to a pair of wondrous deep blue eyes, to a glistening waterfall of honey-blonde hair tumbling halfway down her back.

Time seemed to pause as I felt myself moving toward a place I’d only known in my most secret imagination. A perceived silence settled around me, as if the crowd of people had suddenly disappeared, the only sound I seemed to hear was my wife's ever quickening breath. He squatted there, one wet knee resting in a little puddle of pool water, one wet hand now resting on one of my wife's bare knees. “My god, you're lovely,” he murmured.

Megan’s gasp of breath broke the spell, his hand slipped off her knee, playfully, but intently, his fingers slid down the outside of her leg, grasping a slim ankle, lifting her foot and trying to pull her shoe off. She whimpered in a pretense of fear, wiggling, playfully kicking her feet… but she could feel the strong male fingers clasped around her shapely ankle… and there was a nervous giggle… a breathy giggle of excitement. My wife's loose skirt was riding up her thighs, for an instant her eyes met mine and she began to draw quick nervous breaths, “ohh my… ohhhh my…”

Squatted in front of my wife's chair, the handsome young man’s white towel was still wrapped around his slender waist, but between his naked thighs, a long dangling wet penis was only inches away from her staring eyes. Determined, he got one shoe off. With a conspiratorial smile, he playfully tossed it to me and I snatched it out of the air. Twisting her buttocks and giggling, Megan seemed not to care that his eyes were flashing up between her thighs as they struggled for the other shoe. A moment later the other shoe was in my hand and my wife was sitting, smoothing her skirt, wiggling ten bare toes, still giggling and blushing.

But strong male fingers were still gripped around my wife's left ankle; pool water from his wet hair dripping down onto her bare pink toes… their eyes met again, my wife staring back at him with a certain wariness in her eyes, but still, in utter fascination. Then his voice, the husky, almost commanding tone of a strong confident young man…

“Come little lady, come sit with me… sit on the side of the pool and dip those pretty toes in the water.”

Instantly, the playfully giggling stopped, and she sat, a little stunned, breathy and nervous. Smoothly, he rose to his feet, the towel dropped, covering all but the last two inches of his long dangling penis…. and it seemed to be starting to lift and thicken. His determined fingers were now gripping my wife's hand and by the time he lifted Meg to her feet, she was starting to shiver… lashes fluttering, startled blue eyes rolling toward me over her shoulder.

“Ohhh Bobby, what… ohhh what should I do?”

With barely a glance at me, he had pulled Megan to her feet and my stomach was beginning to churn; I thought he might attempt to take my wife into the house… into the house where the pretty brunette wife had disappeared… where he could get Meg down onto a bed and try to fuck her. The colorful images swirled through my mind… my wife on her back… knees high… her feet kicking the air over his back.

Barely five seconds passed as they stood by the empty chair, my blushing wife's fingers clasped in his strong grip, her feet shifting, the tips of five pink-painted bare toes now in the little puddle of pool water where his knee had been. I sat, mute, disorientated, a little startled by the suddenness of it all. My eyes were suddenly drawn to the doorway of the house, then back to the flush on my wife's face, but with a gentlemanly tug on her hand, he led my wife across the patio and moments later, Meg was sitting timidly on the side of the pool, near the shallow end, her loose skirt shucked mid-way up her thighs and her bare feet dangling in the warm water.

And the handsome young guy was standing hip-deep in the water, massaging Megan’s bare feet. Arm and shoulder muscles rippling, he was running his warm wet hands up and down her calves. I noticed my wife leaning back on her palms, her knees drifting carelessly apart as his massaging fingers reached higher, sliding smoothly up her calves… gradually to her dimpled knees and then a little above. Nearly eye level with her parted knees, he was again sneaking peeks up between my wife's loosened thighs, obviously catching glimpses of a thin white panty crotch and likely wispy strands of stray pubic hair.

It was so unlike my shy wife to be careless with her knees, and I suspected he was getting glimpses of that fluid stained indent in white crotch of her panties, but seemingly unconcerned, her blue eyes were gazing down in fascination at a long semi-limber penis bobbing close to the surface of the water… and so near the tips of her wiggling toes. Then I saw him reach up… with one elbow leaning on the side of the pool, he grasped a fist-full of my wife's long silky hair and quickly tugged her face down closer to his, and I watched his handsome head easing closer to the side of my wife's face… his lips brushing her long blonde hair and whispering into her ear… whispering I knew not what.

But as he whispered into my wife's ear, I saw her head turning, her questioning eyes glancing toward me, then glancing toward the doorway where Brunette Beth had disappeared, and I knew… he was asking my wife to slip into the house, into a private area where he could get her down onto a bed… and fuck her.

Imagining it happening, down on her back, fucking another guy… what a crawly feeling…

I could feel it working its insidious way into the pit of my stomach, coiling like serpent around my guts. I could almost feel the rhythmic shifting of the bed, hear the mattress creaking, her sobbing whimpers and wailing cries, but along with the salacious image of my wife's bouncing bare feet came the probability… still only about a one-in-a-thousand chance!

But he persisted, with her hair gripped in his tight fist; my wife was now leaning forward and looking right down into the water at his stiffening penis… I saw the thickening head of it break the surface and then settle back under the shimmering blue water. And while he whispered in her ear, his other hand was toying with the hemline of her skirt. When his wet fingers disappeared up under the bottom of Megan’s loose skirt, my imagination loosened an army of creepy-crawlies and they began a slow march into the pit of my stomach.

In a mesmerizing stupor, I watched his hand slipping higher up under my wife's skirt. Blonde head tossing side-to-side, her pretty face was hotly flushed and I watched her feeble attempts to close her knees, but his fingers were inching up toward the crotch of her panties, her hips were squirming and throaty little giggles were reaching my ears… shrill giggles of excitement.

My squealing wife was seemingly trying to push his hand out from under her skirt, but his playful fingers were now way up between her bare thighs, very close to the thin crotch of her panties. Again, the odds of another man getting a stiff cock into her flashed through my mind, the numbers, now just a blurring swirl of mathematical probabilities… but ever changing probabilities.

Is there a chance I wondered, that this handsome young guy could talk my wife out of her clothes… is there even the skinniest damn chance that he could get her into the house and fuck her… is there a one-in-a-thousand chance that I could watch him ‘do’ my wife?

Like so many other fantasizing husbands, I really didn’t think it could ever happen, but I sat, gripped in a fever of expectation, until a few minutes later; she was back at my side. The hemline and backside of her skirt was wet and one of the prettiest faces on this planet was flushed with excitement. She gave my hand a squeeze and nodded her head toward the pool…

“Lance asked me to take off my blouse and skirt… an’ go in with my bra and panties on…. well, maybe…”

“Who’s Lance?” I interrupted with a little strain in my voice… as if all the while my eyes hadn’t been fixated on her lovely blonde head, as if I hadn’t anxiously watched his every move, his hand sneaking way up under my wife's skirt… his stiffening bare cock… yeah, like a medieval ‘lance,’ bobbing in the water so near my wife’s pink toes.

“That guy,” she said… “Bobby you know… that nice guy who pulled my shoes off. He's been massaging my feet.”

Again Meg nodded toward the water just as the handsome dark-haired guy was again easing his naked hips up onto the side of the pool. Her eyes remained fixed on his strong back, beads of water glistened on his broad shoulders, some trickling down his back and forming a little puddle under his bare buttocks. He shook his handsome head and raised a muscular arm, brushing the wet hair from his face, and I could see the intrigue in my wife's ocean blue eyes, the flush of excitement on her cheeks.

“He’s Australian, and he’s really so sweet,” she whispered with a little quiver in her voice.

“Oh… and he’s got a rather lengthy penis,” I teased.

“Honey, I didn’t really, well, look at it!”

“Really? Just a glance or two as it poked up out of the water?” I teasingly asked.

“Mmmm,” she blushed… “I saw the… the ‘kinda big’ end of it.”

Ohhh my god, I thought, maybe the odds have improved to one-in-a-hundred.

I looked over at this handsome young guy, the quintessential California surfer. The sun had left Lance’s lean muscular body lightly tanned and fit. He was sitting there, bare-assed and wet; right at the spot where my wife's feet had been dangling in the water. I could see the tubular length of his exposed penis… it was now resting, long and semi-limber against his thigh… and the damn thing looked like it reached half-way down to his knees. The first thought that rushed into my mind was….

This great-looking guy’s gonna try an’ fuck my wife!

A second thought was… my god, she’s acting like she might go along with it!

The third was… ohhh god, maybe I’ll just let him do it?

In the midst of my confusion, she murmured, “Bobby, I’ll go in, but I'll keep my bra and panties on… okay honey?”

Lance turned his handsome head toward our chairs, their eyes met for just an instant and it was so easy to visualize his stiffened-out prick sliding into my wife. She flushed and slanted her eyes, but Megan’s fingers were already toying with the buttons on the front of her blouse. As the creepy-crawlies continued to wiggle deeper into my belly, I helped with the buttons and eased the blouse off her shoulders. I sat for a second, looking at the white back-strap of my wife's double-hook bra… thinking of reaching for the hooks… of exposing her shapely breasts for him… of letting this handsome guy see and touch my wife's pretty pink nipples. In the periphery of my vision, I could see Lance sitting there, naked and confidently watching, as I undressed my wife.

Megan brushed my fingers away from the hooks of her bra, but she popped the button at her waist… pretty face starting to blush, she turned her back toward Lance and stood facing me. I ran the zipper down and let the skirt fall around her trim ankles… now, a foot in front of my face, my wife's smooth bare belly, her long legs and the white vee of her panty crotch with its little tell-tale hillock of blondish curly hairs…

She leaned down, brushed a little kiss across my lips, “Bobby, are you okay with this?”

“Yeah, sure, go have fun,” I mumbled as I felt my penis stirring in my pants and a visceral knot tightening something in my gut.

Breathy with excitement, Megan squeezed my hand and turned away. Shimmering waves of flaxen blonde hair trailing down her back, my barefooted princess strolled shyly toward the shallow end of the pool. Heads turned, male eyes watching the slight shifting of her bra-covered breasts, the movement of her curvy backside… thin white panties… their eyes fixed on the crack of her ass. And I noticed Lance slipping back into the pool and he was watching my wife… following her with his eyes, every step she took, his eyes were on her…

At the shallow end, he stood up out of the water and reached up for my wife’s hand… his exposed penis…that long limber penis that had been resting so softly against his thigh had started to lengthen out and it was a cock now… a long, quickly stiffening cock that he intended to thrust into my wife and he was grasping Megan’s hand, guiding her long legs down into the warm water. The water closed over their hips… out of sight under the water, my wife's belly, her bare legs were now close to his cock… a lengthy bare cock that could so easily float up between her naked thighs.

His hands settled on my wife's hips, drawing her closer, settling neck deep in the water, my wife's blushing face, her warmly parted lips only inches from his. A flitting touch of anxiety began bubbling up in my stomach as he drew her against his chest, her pink nipples firming in her wet bra, her breasts settling against his wet skin. Moving off to one side, in the semi-darkness under a palm tree, I leaned casually against the iron railing, pretending to be looking down at the crisscross of San Fernando Valley lights.

But with slanting eyes, I watched him playing with my wife… splashing about in the pool, teasing her, his hands going out of sight under the rippling surface. I watched him catch her in his strong arms, her belly against his, their bare legs twining; I heard the pretended squeals of fright, the peals of girlish laughter each time she wiggled away, only to be caught again and again.

The pool light was on… the water, a translucent shimmer of greens and blues… and under the rippling surface, his buoyant cock was a blurry image, but I could see the up-lifted outline of it brushing against my wife's bare legs… from time-to-time, pressing against her belly.

I looked away for a few moments, staring down at the Valley lights, trying to calm the strange new feeling of anxiety growing in my stomach. Glancing back, they were standing face-to-face and waist deep in the water, I saw him reach down and grasp the curvy cheeks of my wife's ass, as if to playfully flip her out of the water, but he lifted her only until her feet didn’t reach the pool bottom, quickly he pulled her hips toward him and her knees parted, one sliding to each side of his legs. In an instant, thighs widely splayed, the crotch of her wet panties with its little ‘cunt mound’ was tight against his bare stomach and I saw the shimmering image of his hands cupping my wife's ass, her little wiggles rubbing the soft hairy mound of her pussy against the muscular ridge of his strong stomach.

Above the sound of splashing water I heard Megan’s throaty giggles taking on a deeper tone, saw her spiky-wet eyelashes lowering to little slits, her arms going up around his neck, her bent knees breaking the surface of the water, one knee to each side of his hips. It was driving me crazy; I couldn't see his bare cock, but it was somewhere between their squirming bodies and my wife's knees were wide apart and the proximity of his semi-stiff cock, to the loose crotch of her wet panties was sending shivers up my spine.

When she began to weaken, he pinned her against the pool wall and for many long excruciating minutes he held her there… belly-to-belly under the swirling warm water, then a couple of stolen kisses with her resisting hands pressing back again his shoulders. While he kissed my struggling wife, I could only imagine his rigid cock lifting up between her loosened legs… the head of his cock pressing up against a stretchy wet, loose panty crotch… one so easy to tug aside…

With strong fingers tangled in my wife's wet blonde hair, he up-turned her pretty face and kissed her again… lips parting, resistance ebbing, her hands easing from his shoulders, some primal instinct lifting her arms, coiling them around his neck. When I saw my wife kissing another man, snuggling her nearly naked belly against his, her dark lashes fluttering and her eyes closing, the crawlies took full command, forming a brigade that began holding war maneuvers in the pit my stomach. I knew his bare cock was pressed between their squirming bellies and all I could think of was the head of it slipping under the loose elastic crotch of Megan’s wet panties and by the time she climbed out of the pool I was a trembling wreck.

I rushed over and wrapped my precious darling in a big white towel. As she sat on a marble bench, drying her hair with another towel, Lance climbed out of the pool. He stood there dripping wet, wrapping a towel around his hips, he motioned for me to approach.

Stepping forward, he reached out a damp hand… one of the strong hands that had been so intently fondling my wife. “Hi, I'm Lance… I'm your hostess’s tennis coach and thanks for letting me enjoy some time in the pool with your lovely wife.”

Taking his wet hand, I replied, “I'm Bob, and that was a first for my Megan… her first time being nearly naked with another guy and I think my shy little wife enjoyed the adventure.”

“Well, she’s a very lovely girl and I hope you didn’t mind… I well, I just couldn't resist giving your darling wife a few hugs and a kiss or two.”

The rugged young guy I'd mistaken for just another Malibu Beach ‘surfer-bum’ was really Wendy's famous Australian tennis coach. Many times I'd heard his name mentioned at the club and now he was gesturing with his hand, pointing out beyond the grove of orange trees, “Bert’s got a guest cottage and dressing rooms over by the tennis court where Meg can get out of her wet stuff and dry her hair.”

I glanced across the patio toward the tennis court where a two story bungalow was built into the rugged hillside. I expected Lance to say goodnight and walk away, but he stood there in kind of an awkward silence and then he intimated…

“By-the-way Bob, there’s complete privacy up on the second floor.”

“Uh-huh,” I naively mumbled.

It was growing late; the crowd was starting to disperse. Lance’s eyes flashed over to where Megan was sitting drying her hair. I followed his eyes, for a moment we both watched my wife, briskly toweling her long wet hair. With her arms raised, her magnificent firm breasts jiggled ever so slightly and just a hint of pink revealed where her nipples were pressing against the wet bra. Megan caught us staring. We both turned away and this ruggedly handsome Australian guy looked at me, boldly, calculatingly…

“Bob, if you and your lovely wife would like to stay for a while… well, on the upper level there’s a wide bed… and a door that can be locked.” There was an undertone of confidentiality in his voice, as if he were about to share some secret with me.

Assurances of privacy, then the mention of a locked door, suddenly I knew exactly where this was going. My god… it was like this guy was reading my mind… he’s not going to walk away, obviously he intends to try fucking my wife and he suspects I might just sit by and let it happen. His eyes locked onto mine and there was an aura of power and determination that was both exciting and intimidating… like my precious wife was his for the taking… like he could slide a cock into her just for the asking.

We stood, just a few feet apart, my mind in a whirl… his calm and calculating. In the pool, he'd already had his bare cock against Megan’s belly and he sensed my confusion, but still, my intrigue to take a next step. My thoughts swirling… my innocent wife… a wide bed… the door locked. Then, more words… tempestuously spoken words… words I’ll never forget!

“Bob, I'd like to ‘do your wife,’… and Bob, how would you like to watch it happen?”

“Do your wife,” the raw phrase hit me like a hot spike hammered into my guts. I felt the squirmy rush of excitement wash through my innards. And there was the audacity of offering to let me watch him sliding his cock into my wife, but just the thought of it quickened my pulse and as he deliberately adjusted the white towel around his hips, I glimpsed his lengthy penis… limber now, again hanging down along his thigh, but I imagined watching him between my wife's bent knees, his muscle-taut penis fully stiffened-out… the bare head tautly swollen and probing into my wife's thin blondish pubic hairs… and then, ohh god… the raw image of his stiff cock sliding ever so smoothly into the slippery warmth of my wife's up-turned loins. He could see it in my eyes, the scary intrigue.

“Exciting to think about, uh Bob?”

“Uh-huh,” I mumbled in confusion.

He was standing there, tall and handsome, but his deep confident voice, with its lilting Australian accent, seemed to be drifting up from the bottom of the world, “Bob, have you ever sat by and watched another man fuck your wife?”

“Uh, no… course not,” I stammered in confusion, “no other guy ever has…. ever.”

“Well, if a husband has the right mindset, it can be damned exciting to see his pretty wife on her back with her toes pointed at the ceiling.”

I could feel myself weakening, the feeling of intrigue deepening. His eyes stayed locked on mine. “Like in Vegas Bob, what happens here stays here… so if you’d like the thrill of watching another guy do your wife … well, no one outside that gate will ever know it happened.”

Under an aura of secrecy, my swirling mind inched closer to the precipice, the mental image taking ever sharper focus in my mind… my wife's pink opening stretching, closing over the thickened head… the mucus lining of my wife's vagina squeezing around him, her slippery pink flesh molding to the long tubular shape of his penis. Hazy images floating in my mind… another guy fucking my blushing wife, his swollen penis-head punching deep into her taut belly, I could almost hear the grunts bursting from her lips and see the wavering image of my wife's bent back knees, the long up-curving cock sliding smoothly through her tangled pubic hairs, glistening with slippery fluids… a smooth rhythmic fuck… drawing nearly out to the swollen head… again-and-again, punching firmly back into the pit of her married belly.

Several seconds of silence followed as the prickling feeling ran up my spine, I could feel the tension, my pulse quickening. Lance was standing there, waiting for some response, some indication of my willingness… or my utter helplessness to refuse. His eyes were glancing over my shoulder toward Meg and back to me. My mouth opened, a gargled sound rose from my throat, but the words failed. He leaned in… a little closer so my wife wouldn't hear…

“So what do you think Bob? Be honest Bob, I really think you’d like to watch it happen.” His voice with its lilting accent lowered to an undertone, drawing me deeper into the sordid conspiracy. “Whilst I ‘do your wife,’ you could sit right on the side of the bed, hold Meg’s hand and look down into her eyes… be a new thrill for both of you,” he asserted.

The sordid image was taunting… watching him fuck my innocent wife, the thought of looking down into those lovely blue eyes with an erection in my pants, feeling her warm nervous fingers gripping my hand, the sound of her whimpering… the rhythmic creaking of the bed. I swallowed, throat tight, I barely managed to mumble like a lost schoolboy…

“I ah… well, I don't think Megan will go for it, she’s still pretty innocent.”

“Well, sorry mate, I didn’t mean to be offensive, but I noticed how you watched me with Meg in the pool, when we kissed and she got a little warm and flustered. A lot of guys, well, they get sort of intrigued with the idea of the wife doing another guy. So I thought, well maybe…?”

“Yeah, I've heard about ‘hot-wife’ web sites, and stuff like that,” I mumbled.

“Well Bob, they say, letting some qualified young guy ‘fuck the wife’ from time-to-time is becoming a pretty common thing with young couples. I've heard the wives love it, and letting the husbands watch adds quite a stimulus to a marriage. You know Bob, it might take some doing, but I think your shy Meg would love it. So how do you feel about the idea… want to give it a try?”

Throat tight and constricted, my voice hoarse, I could barely respond. “Uh-huh, might be quite a thrill for both of us,” I mumbled. “So if... if my wife agrees to try it, well how would we...?”

He glanced over at Megan and softened his voice. “It’s easy Bob; just take your wife over to the guest cottage. Up on the second floor, let Meg take a warm shower to get the chill out, let her slip into a robe and then stretch out on the bed and relax for a while. I'll come over; we’ll talk a while, see if we can work it out. Maybe start with a few kisses… a little touching, be quite a thrill for you to watch your shy wife ‘giving in’ to another guy… see him gradually ease over and settle between her knees. Anything like that ever interest you?”

“Sort of, but I mean, well, not actually,” I stammered.

“Do you want to think about it for a while?”

“Uh-huh… I guess so.”

It was a strange feeling, listening to Lance’s proposition while my wife was sitting there, wet and half-naked, and I'm standing with her blouse and skirt in my hands and the skin is prickling up my back… and I'm wondering, in the depth of my wife's precious mind, might there lurk a secret urge to fuck another guy… maybe this particular guy, maybe a curiosity to see what that “kinda big” end of his penis would feel like in the pit of her belly?

“Bob, your wife is getting a chill, so whilst you think it over, feel free to take Meg over to the guest cottage and let her get out of her wet bra and panties.”

He seemed to sense my ultimate weakness, my growing intrigue; he saw my eyes glance toward my wife and then toward the guest cottage. Encouraged he continued…

“Whilst Meg showers, choose a bottle from the wine cooler, then relax on the bed for a while.”

“No one will mind if we use the place… just help ourselves?”

“Hell no, Bert’s guests are treated like royalty, so you'll find cosmetics in the bathroom, hair dryers, hair brushes, and guest robes. No bras, but your wife can toss her wet panties and take fresh new panties from one of the bedroom drawers… silk or satin… pink or white; your wife can take her choice. ”

“Then you'll… you'll come over there and…?”

“Uh-huh… here’s how we’ll work it out, just get Meg on the bed and send me a signal. If you linger a while and I see the second floor lighting flash twice and then go dim, I'll wander over and see how she’s feeling… maybe the three of us can stretch out on the bed. After a while, maybe you can get your wife to show me her new panties.”

The tempest storming through my guts, I began to equivocate. “Well, Meg might show her panties and play around, maybe even kiss with her breasts bare, but my wife probably won’t let you, well, really fuck her…”

“Maybe not Bob, but why don't you and Meg spend the night here and we’ll give it a shot? When you have Meg on the bed, flash the lighting twice, two quick flashes and I'll come up to the room and lock the door. We’ll take it very slowly, inch her along a bit-at-a-time, and if she lets me, you can watch me fuck your wife… and no one will ever know it happened.”

There was some primal fascination with the thought of spending the night… a long lurid night with another man in bed with us… Megan naked in the middle, a vigorous young man fucking her under the blankets while I lie on my side next to her in a darkened bed, I imagined the feeling of easing my head onto her pillow, my knee easing up against my wife's hip… against the side of her buttocks, feeling the touch of her smooth warm skin… feeling the undulating rhythm of intercourse as her silky warm skin grazes up-and-down against my leg, lying there, listening to her fucking with another man, listening to her breathy sobs and whimpers, to the little wet squishy sounds drifting up from under the blankets… ohhh god…

Rampaging thoughts… my stomach is doing flip-flops as the silence between us began to lengthen. “I'd have to stay with my wife,” I mumbled … “be in the bed with her.”

“Of course Bob, you’d be in the bed, you could take Meg’s pants off for me, that’s the strange thrill of it… a husband preparing his wife, pulling down her panties for another man, then lowering the blankets and seeing it up-close… seeing the penis sliding into your wife, seeing her eyes rolling back. Can you imagine the shivery thrill of watching a stiff cock sliding into your wife, feeling her sweaty fingers clutching your hand… hearing her whimpering and squealing?”

“Lance, I'm scared as hell, but, well maybe…”

But he wasn’t taking “maybe” for an answer, “hold on a minute, I'll be right back.”

Puzzled, I could see raw red scratches on his back as he turned and walked quickly toward the guest cottage. I saw him disappear inside; barely minute later he was back at my side, reaching out as if to shake hands.

Without another word, he glanced toward Megan and I felt his fingers firmly pressing something metallic onto the palm of my hand. We shook hands, a single brass door key pressed between our palms.

“Lock the door and get your wife stretched out on the bed,” he whispered… “I have another key.”

With a sinking feeling I glanced back at my innocent wife, sweaty fingers, guilty fingers closing over the key… the touch of shame mixing with the raw excitement welling up in my stomach… thoughts of my young wife on her back, her knees apart and her curvy rump lifted… thoughts of his lengthy cock sliding into her… sliding into the warm fluid clasp of her fleshy pink vagina… he’s fucking my wife with a long fluid smeared cock, pumping the swollen head deep into her belly and I'm feeling the rhythmic shifting of the bed… her nervous fingers gripping my hand… Ohhh god, I was simply shivering with fear and anticipation….

****************

Continued in part 4… {{{Ohhh Bobby, will you still love me… after?}}}

BWB
When a married woman offers the precious gift of her body to another man, he must give something in return, not diamonds or jewles... but a treasured memory, one that will live in the secret corners of her mind forever.

(Bertram W. Bronson, Malibu 2007)

Scotch98
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Re: “Do My Pretty Wife… but let me watch” … (Megan, Part 3)

Unread post by Scotch98 » Sun Dec 11, 2011 9:22 am

Great Story Bertram, Can't wait to read the next episode.....

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Re: “Do My Pretty Wife… but let me watch” … (Megan, Part 3)

Unread post by roadrunner » Wed Dec 14, 2011 9:12 pm

I've been behind the forum again. I saw this out here, but I'm just now getting enough time at once to read the whole thing.

Great, as usual! :up: :D
Two words that should rarely be used when discussing human behavior are 'always' and 'never'!

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Bert Bronson
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Re: “Do My Pretty Wife… but let me watch” … (Megan, Part 3)

Unread post by Bert Bronson » Sat Dec 24, 2011 1:44 pm

Hi Roadrunner and all my friends,

The next part of the “Doing Megan” story will post in the next few days…

A preview of part 4
************

Easing the door open, I could see the room in shadow, faint starlight drifting down through an overhead skylight. Reaching into the darkness, I fumbled along the wall for a light switch… instantly an electric sensor flooded the room in a soft pink glow… the corners lay in semi-shadow, in the center of the room, a wide bed lay bathed in a soft pinkish hue.

We stepped in, there was a turn-bolt lock on the private door and with a little squirmy feeling in my stomach, I closed the solid wood door… and locked it!

As I turned back I heard Megan gasp, “ohhh my god, it’s… it’s utterly magnificent.” The word didn’t begin to describe the upper story of the guest house… a high, open beam vaulted ceiling, plush to the extreme, one entire wall of glass looking out across the shimmering lights of the San Fernando Valley. Against the far wall was the centerpiece of the room… on a two-step raised dais, a wide custom-built bed faced out to the glass wall.

With Megan following, I took a step toward the bed, the omnipresent picture hovering in my mind… my naked wife on her back, knees up and apart… his cock sliding into her… vigorously fucking her with a long glistening cock. Ohhh my god, I mused, do I have the strength to let this happen… do I have the will to take my innocent wife home before it’s too late?

While indecision rampaged through my mind, in the luxurious bath, I watched Meg slipping out of her wet bra, then her cotton panties landing on the tile floor with wet plop. My naked wife's usually glossy blonde hair still hung down around her shoulders in wet stringy clumps, all traces of make-up washed from the natural beauty of her pretty face, but my god, as I thought of giving Lance a chance to have her… she never looked more adorable… more desirable… more utterly fuck-able.

A little chilled, she squatted to pee; arms crossed over her bare breasts… the mirror reflecting puckered pink nipples and a little goose flesh on her arms and stomach. It was suddenly a strange feeling, listening to the little tinkle of her pee while gazing down at my wife's smooth bare belly, at the wedge of damp pubic curls peeking from between her clenched thighs and thinking what might happen in the next hour… the head another man’s cock… pressing through that tangle of curls… sliding into her belly… Ohh god, I almost gasped aloud.

While Megan showered, I called her sister on my cell phone… “Sis, we’d like to stay the night with friends, would you mind keeping the baby overnight?”

***************
Bert,
Curious husbands abound, and I wander the world in pursuit of their “married virgins...”
I find so many, pretty ones with eyes of blue and honey colored hair...
Alas, time allows the capture of only so few...

Bert Bronson 2007

roadrunner
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Re: “Do My Pretty Wife… but let me watch” … (Megan, Part 3)

Unread post by roadrunner » Sat Dec 24, 2011 3:08 pm

Now you've got us wanting more! :D
Two words that should rarely be used when discussing human behavior are 'always' and 'never'!

Lettuce Tramp
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Re: “Do My Pretty Wife… but let me watch” … (Megan, Part 3)

Unread post by Lettuce Tramp » Sat Mar 03, 2012 10:30 am

I don't know how I missed this, but must have been on the road & it rolled off the first page before we got back.

THANX roadrunner for bumping this back up so I could find it.

And a BIG THANX to you Bert, as always this chapter has already been printed & Brab is reading it as I type this. Your stories leave me wanting more also & I know after she reads it she will be wet & ready to provide...... MORE!

Along with everyone else that reads your work I'm always ready for the next chapter.

Chuck/aka Lettuce Tramp

tay
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Re: ' Do My Pretty Wife… but let me watch ' …(Megan, Part 3)

Unread post by tay » Wed Apr 11, 2012 3:43 pm

Thanks again!

tay
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Posts: 53
Joined: Sat Feb 25, 2012 5:28 pm

Re: ' Do My Pretty Wife… but let me watch ' …(Megan, Part 3)

Unread post by tay » Wed Sep 12, 2018 2:33 pm

******

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