' Tom Stayed With Us One Summer ' (Pt2) …of a wife story

[Bertram W Bronson]

“Tom Stayed With Us One Summer”

A wife narrative from the erotic library of:

Bertram W. Bronson

(Part 2)

The following Saturday morning Tom, unassuming as only the British can be, settled quietly into our patched-together spare room. A tall, handsome young man, Tom was the best of house-mates and over the following weeks, the three of us quickly became friends. We shared expenses and Pricilla divided up the chores, the laundry, the cleaning and kitchen chores, our new friend always striving to do more than his share.

By the middle of April, Prissy had become like a younger sister to Tom, doting on the brother she never had. I noticed her starting to straighten his clothes, fixing his collar, her soft lips giving him a peck on the cheek while brushing back errant locks of dark brown hair that always fell across his handsome brow.

Soon we were like that old TV show “Three’s Company,” but with a different mix of sexes.

We’d take late night strolls in a nearby park, after a while Pricilla would slip between us, her warm fingers would be clasping both of our hands as we walked along under the trees. Back home we’d sit out on the porch or at the kitchen table, talking about school, about his home back in the UK and the girl he’d left behind. Eventually we’d say our goodnights and disappear into our bedroom, leaving Tom sitting alone in the kitchen, a wistful look on his face. But each morning at the breakfast table we became a trio again, my bare-footed, sleepy-eyed darling sitting between us, wisps of disarrayed hair tucked behind her ears and wearing her soft cotton pajamas.

On occasion we’d drop into a dorm room party, or once in a while go out dancing, and always we were three… always the happy triad. And of course our handsome British friend quickly became utterly fascinated with my pretty blonde wife… and the ever-growing intrigue was mutual.

But one night, at turning point was reached, a sudden awareness of the depth of intimacy we were sharing with Tom. We were making love in the quiet darkness of our bed, Pricilla’s breathy gasping and moaning drifting around the tiny room… and in the next room; Tom accidently dropped something onto the floor… a startling thump, maybe a heavy text book sliding off his bed and hitting the floor. In the darkness Pricilla was startled, I felt her flinch, hips going still, an abrupt tightening of her thighs against my hips… she was holding her breath with a hand pressed against my back and listening.

“What… what was that?” she gasped in confusion and I could feel the humid warmth of her breath panting against my ear while she listened to only silence.

Then her blonde head shifted, I felt her warm face turning away from my cheek and toward the wall. Then her sudden realization… and my naive little wife, whispering very softly, “Ohh my God, I wonder… do you suppose Tom can hear us when we…?”

“Oh probably not,” I equivocated, not wanting an issue to arise.

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

But of course there were times our British house-mate must have listened to the arousing sound of my wife making love, all her grunts and breathy whimpers, the orgasmic gasping for breath. He’d become somewhat enamored with Pricilla and the flimsy walls of that old house may as well been made of willow sticks and sail cloth… even the Pope would have been tempted to listen to the sound my lovely young bride making love on a squeaky bed.

And regardless of my evasion, the realization that Tom could hear us in bed settled into Prissy’s mind and for my shy wife, lovemaking now became an embarrassing interlude. She insisted on moving the bed a couple of inches so the wooden bed posts no longer thumped against the back wall of the house, but at night our secondhand bed creaked like a rusty door hinge and Prissy muffled her whimpers and strangled her multiple orgasms with her hot face pressed into a pillow.

We took advantage of those times we were alone during an afternoon, quick tumbles on our bed with just her panties off and her skirt hoisted up to her hips, but making leisurely love in our bed at night was as necessary as breathing.

The bed posts no longer thumped against the wall and sliding a little crossways on the bed seemed to reduce the squeaks and creaks, but there seemed no way to mitigate the revealing sound of sex, the sound of Pricilla’s initial soft whimpers, the whimpers becoming whining sounds, then throaty moans and bursts of breath. “Oh my God, ohhh honey,” she’d pant and gasp… “He’ll hear me cumm… I know he will…”

“Prissy… don’t be silly, Tom knows what we do in bed… the whole world knows we make love at night.”

“But when we move, that way… the bed it… ohhh it’s so noisy…”

“Priss… don't worry about it.”

“But, ohh my God… his bed is right next to the wall… he must hear our bed creaking and straining.”

“Oh Prissy… he probably pays no attention.”

“But honey,” she whined, “Tom can’t help but listen. I bet he knows how often we ‘do it’ and… and oh my God… even how long it takes us! And I’m so embarrassed to face him every morning.”

“Sweetheart, it doesn’t matter,” I’d whisper. “He’s probably been asleep for hours, so stop worrying about it.”

Then the dark lashes would lower, hiding her troubled blue eyes, she’d draw a deep breath, tighten her belly muscles and begin working herself toward a second or third orgasm… frantically tossing her hips and biting down on the corner of a pillow to muffle her whimpering cries.

It went unspoken, but as the days passed, I could feel a new intimacy developing between the three of us and I began to realize Pricilla’s embarrassment with lovemaking was exciting me. I’d hear her beginning to make those throaty noises and I would suddenly feel the strange excitement of Tom’s close proximity… knowing that he was within hearing at such intimate moments. I found myself, considering the likelihood of his penis spontaneously erecting at the sound of my wife’s passionate cries drifting through the old particle board partition.

There were times when the image of Tom on the other side of the wall would float so vividly into my mind, wondering if he might be sitting up in his bed reading as my wife's first tiny whimper drifted through his wall, his eyes flicking from his book to the wall, suddenly aware of the sound of our bed… of the little creaky squeaks becoming rhythmic. I thought of him listening to the sound of Prissy’s cries, his flaccid penis lying against his thigh, starting swell and elongate, his eyes fixated on the wall as his semi-soft penis lifted into a full, stiff erection.

We closed, but never locked the bedroom door, so it was such a strange feeling of arousal, thinking of Tom listening to my wife, knowing he must be feeling an ever increasing urge to fuck her, and knowing only a few steps could bring this handsome young Brit to the side of our bed. And I thought how it might feel to invite him to slip into our room some night. How exciting it would be… making love with Pricilla and hearing the slight sound of the door slowly opening, to turn my face and see him standing in the shadowy darkness by the side of our bed, ready to take my wife, his penis fully erect and thrusting upward from his groin. I thought of the gut-tightening thrill of sliding my penis out of my wife and moving from between her legs, moving aside to make room for him to slip into bed with us… Pricilla on her back between us, shivering with a mix of fright and excitement, the pink opening of her vagina already wet and loosened from our lovemaking…

I can only imagine the excitement and the emotional trauma… in the darkness, seeing his handsome head on my wife's pillow, her pretty face turning to him, kissing him and under the covers I know the head of his stiff penis is pressing against her stomach. From the other side of the bed I’m whispering an invitation, inviting him to take my place between Pricilla’s knees… inviting him to slide his stiffened penis into my wife and fuck her while I lay close by her side, clasping her hand and feeling her fingers clutching mine, the movement of the bed and her breath bursting against my cheek.

Making love with my wife, while having those arousing thoughts in my mind, I would find myself going at her more intently… with quick deep thrusts that always pushed her over the edge. Pushed beyond caring, she’d groan and pant as the brain numbing feeling of orgasm washed through her quivering stomach “Ohhh ohh, aaarrrhhh.” And the creaking springs and my wife’s high-pitched squeals would carry through the thin partition.

As we floated back to earth, amidst the thumping of her heart, she would whisper, “Oh my God… I hope he really was asleep in there.”

The next morning Prissy would pad bare-footed around the kitchen, fixing coffee and toast while still in her Jammies, her bra-less breasts shifting under the soft cotton pajama top, but with a flush on her cheeks and not meeting Tom’s eyes.

***********

It was already weeks into Tom staying with us and his presence on the other side of the wall never left Pricilla’s mind. Late one night I was reading in bed. Under the blankets, a sleepy little creature cuddled closer to me and eased its pretty head onto my pillow.

A soft sleepy voice murmured, “Darling,” do you suppose that…”

“That what Priss?” I mumbled, distracted, a bit annoyed, I leaned my textbook aside while holding my place with a finger between the pages.

“…that Tom… that he masturbates in there while we’re… doing it?”

“Do you think he does?” I whispered, the image flashing into my mind and suddenly feeling that now familiar touch of arousal.

“Mmm hum… once when he didn't know I was home, I think I heard him in his room, breathing… like, well you know, the way it sounds when people do that…

“Prissy, it’s nothing you have to worry about.”

“But darling there’s more… something happened, something you might want to know about.”

The words, her tone of voice and suddenly she had my full attention and I quickly set the book aside. “What… what more?” I quickly asked.

“Well, yesterday I was putting fresh sheets on his bed and I found… a pair of my panties.”

“Your panties were in Tom’s room?”

“Uh-huh… in his bed, down between the sheets.”

As she whispered this revelation, I could see the color rising on her cheeks, a speculative look in her bright blue eyes. “Prissy, were these panties you’d been wearing,” I asked … “like he took them from the laundry basket?”

“Mmm hum, maybe from the laundry, but I might have forgotten my panties on the bathroom floor and he… uh, picked them up… I don't know, but my panties were in his bed.”

“Could you tell if he had… used them to…?”

“Mmm humm, I know what that kinda looks like.”

I felt that little touch of arousal creeping deeper into my groin, my penis starting to swell and lengthen against my thigh. “Priss, do you mean you found stains on your panties… dried spots that looked like semen?”

“Mmm hum,” she murmured …“and after he… well, after he ‘used’ my panties, I think he just forgot to slip them into the laundry basket… and I wouldn't have noticed, they would have just gone into the wash.”

“Prissy, you have to realize, living with us, being so near you all the time must be arousing for Tom… and using your panties, well, it’s a way for Tom to relieve some of the stress.”

The lamp was turned low, but I could still see Priscilla blushing at the memory of finding her panties in another man’s bed… and traces of spent sperm. Her voice had gotten very soft and I detected little tremors of possible excitement. “Prissy, does it excite you a little… knowing that Tom is aroused, that he masturbates with your panties?”

Now her face really went hot. “Ohhh my God, I… I really don't know what I'm feeling… but it makes me feel so… well it gives me a strange feeling. I mean, to think he might be listening to us in bed while he’s doing ‘that’ with my panties...”

Listening to the tiny quaver in her voice and feeling her snuggling against me, I began to realize that… day-by-day, having another man living with us was becoming a very exciting part of our marriage. His close proximity to my wife was arousing hidden feelings and emotions, not just in me… but in Tom and Pricilla as well.

Wondering where this was all going to lead, I turned off the bed lamp… we were quiet for a few a minutes as I continued thinking of Tom sneaking my wife's underwear into his room, likely examining the crotch for pubic hairs and traces of vaginal secretions, probably sniffing for any lingering scent. The arousing image began creeping into my mind… another man stroking his erected penis with Pricilla’s panties… the crotch panel still moist with her vaginal fluids… imagining a soiled panty crotch still containing my wife's vaginal secretions rubbing on the head of another man’s penis…

While my eyes stared up into the dimness of our bedroom, the crazy images played out on the ceiling… my wife offering Tom another pair of her panties, not from the laundry basket, not from the bathroom floor, but panties warm with her body heat… an erotic image of my wife on his bed… on her back, his hands slipping up under her skirt, tugging her panties from under her hips. My mind watched Pricilla’s underpants sliding up her long legs and over her toes… and she lay there with a hotly blushing face, her knees apart, letting him ‘examine’ her vagina.

Sudden her head moved and the sound of my wife drawing a deep breath brought me back to reality. I thought she’d fallen asleep while my mind wandered, but she was leaning up on her elbow, her eyes looking over at me.

“And he’s so darn near,” she murmured. “If that wall wasn’t there, well, he could almost reach out and put his hand on me… And ohh my God, sometimes when we're doing it, I close my eyes and I get this odd feeling, like a little twitchy quiver… it’s almost like he's right in bed with us.”

I felt the sudden excitement coiling in my stomach. “Prissy, maybe we should try that some night… ask Tom to slip in bed with us, just for a thrill.”

“Somebody’s got a strange idea of a thrill,” she muttered.

“Well, I think you're getting to like him… quite a lot, you smooth his hair and sometimes kiss his cheek?”

“Mmm hmm, but he's a gentle guy, an’ he's respectful of me.”

“Priss, what if we were having sex some night, and in the dark, I let Tom slip under the covers… on your side?”

“You're crazy as a loon. Don't you dare!” she whispered… “Where in hell do you get these stupid ideas?”

“Just thought we might get some kind of a crazy thrill out of it,” I mumbled.

Her head was still next to mine on the pillow and I could almost feel the hot flush creeping over her face, “Ohhh my God…. just shut-up go to sleep!”

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

But as the second month of summer began, my shy wife was gradually becoming more accustomed to the close proximity of another male, a very vibrant handsome male. Oh there were still issues, the bathroom door was as flimsy as the walls and many times Tom would pretend not to hear the tinkle of her pee and she’d step out, avoiding his eyes as she smoothed down her skirt.

But it was becoming increasingly more difficult to tell if the blush on her cheeks was one of embarrassment or a gradually growing flush of hidden excitement. And the idea of Tom masturbating with her panties became just a titillation to whisper about in bed and if occasionally he caught a glimpse of her in just a bra and panties… well, she would still be a little embarrassed, but it all stopped being such a big deal.

Occasionally she’d even forget he was staying with us and stroll out of our bedroom with her blouse off. “Oh my,” she’d blush and cover her bra-covered breasts as she hustled back into the room. But I would call out, “Hey Prissy… what’s the big deal?”

And little by little she relaxed. So our night-time whispers and my acceptance of Tom seeing her a few times in just her bra and panties set in motion a further unraveling of her puritanical mind set. And the unraveling was like gently tugging on the loose thread of a knitted sweater, each little tug loosening one thread at a time and exposing the sensuality which lay beneath.

And our threesome existence, well, it grew to be almost second nature. One evening we sat in a darkened movie theater, Prissy resting her glossy blonde head against my shoulder; I felt her hand dropping onto my lap and resting on my thigh. Preoccupied with the movie, I reached down, clasping her fingers in the semi-darkness. A moment later, I glanced across and noticed her left hand reaching for Tom’s hand, my wife drawing Tom’s hand onto her lap… her warm fingers, one of which held her wedding band twining with his. There was a sigh, I felt Prissy’s other fingers giving my hand a squeeze; her lovely head snuggling closer against my shoulder… “Love you darling,” she whispered.

At that moment, it seemed so natural to just tip my head a bit to one side and rest my cheek against the top of her head, just sitting there in a dark movie theater, my wife between us, the three of us holding hands.

And so our bedtime love-making seemed to feed on the mutual excitement of Tom’s close proximity… no longer caring that he could hear us in bed, she’d knowingly whimper and moan… sometimes turning her head at the moment of orgasm… her glazed eyes staring at the wall as if she could stare through the flimsy partition and see his erected penis, all the while unashamedly wailing and crying out as the convulsions rippled through her stomach. Then she’d lie there, gasping for breath, a strange new look in her eyes.

At the morning breakfast table she would still sit between us and blush, but now turning her head and locking eyes with Tom, their eyes locking for those several seconds while the flush of pink rose on her cheeks.

The inevitable seemed to be hovering over the three of us, drawing closer with each passing day…

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

As Priscilla’s inhibitions gradually disappeared, I felt an increasing desire to let Tom catch her only partly dressed, almost a craving to expose my wife and let him see her naked… ultimately, to put her down on one of the beds and share her sexually. I began to imagine the stomach tightening thrill of someday being the one “on the other side of the wall” and listening to the sound of Pricilla sharing our bed with Tom… listening to the sound of our bed creaking… the sound of Tom fucking my wife…

And the “other-side-of-the-wall” fantasy grew on me. The imagined sounds floated about in my head… the whimpers and squealing cries when his cock slid into my wife. At that point I never dared to suggest really doing it, but I couldn't shake the image of my shy Prissy in ‘one bed or the other’… and me listening with my ear close to the thin wall…

Each day there seemed to be some emotional high point and bit-by-bit, as the blushing embarrassment eased, Prissy became coy and flirtatious. She’d loosen the top buttons on the front of her blouse and look at Tom, then back to me and her nervous throaty giggles were like a hot spike in my stomach… like a flush warm water swirling upward over my groin… the crazy urge to let Tom fuck her growing stronger every day… every hour.

And it seemed I could never slide a hand up under her skirt and not find the crotch of her panties humid and sticky. She seemed to be teasing herself, creaming her panties and from time-to-time, deliberately leaving them to be found on the bathroom floor for him to masturbate with. And I began to experience a combination of heady jealousy and fascination that made my knees tremble and my stomach flip with little surges of adrenaline. My penis would swell when I watched Priscilla flirt or walk past him with her blouse open and his head would turn… his eyes on the curve of her behind.

They would brush past each other in the tiny kitchen and I would imagine them naked together, touching, making love… fucking… his stiffly erected cock going into her. At night, while making love in our bed, we whispered about doing it, toying with the idea and pretending. Finally I dared say it outright…

“Sweetheart, let’s some night, I’d like to see you with Tom… like this, making love on one of the beds.” I whispered the words and my voice had a shaky, but serious undertone.

“You don’t mean really… like really do it?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh you’re silly, I… I couldn’t… I only flirt with Tom, a little.”

“Sweetheart, you flirt a lot and he's becoming very fond of you… and Priss, he'd love to fuck you… we both know that… and I think you might be willing.”

“Oh, stop it. That’s silly and a crude thing to say!” she hissed. But the image induced a quickening of her breath, a little twisting undulation of her hips. I could sense the belly-tightening approach of her orgasm and feel an oozing slippery wetness gathering at the juncture of our loins.

“Prissy… you've grown quite intrigued with Tom. Have you ever really thought about it?” I whispered as I pressed into her warm loins with short quick thrusts.

There ensued a long verbal silence, just our breathing and the intermittent creaking of the wooden bed frame. One of the ‘towels’ was under her buttocks and we could both hear the soft sound of sex… And I thought of Tom fucking my wife… a ‘naughty towel’ under her undulating buttocks, the same squishy wet sounds… and finally his spent sperm oozing out and slithering down between the cheeks of her ass…

I was practically trembling. Whispery soft and close to her ear, I posed the delicate subject again “Prissy, he’s in there, right next to us… he’s listening to you and he’s jerking-off. And you’ve been wondered about it haven’t you… what it would be like to really fuck with Tom?”

“Ohhh God yes,” she finally gasped. Her voice was throaty and stressed. “Yes, I think of it, well sometimes,” she whispered… “But only because you keep mentioning it… to… to get me excited…”

“But it does excite you… imagining it… thinking about doing it… really doing it?”

“Uh-huh, sometimes when we’re alone and he… he looks at me, I feel a little shiver and…”

“…and you think how easy it would be to… to let him?”

“Mmm humm… sometimes, I think of it, but then, well later I feel guilty for having such thoughts.”

“Sweetheart, do you ever glance into one of the rooms and think how close you are to one of the beds… only a few steps?”

“Mmm hum, but our place is so tiny, well, we’re always near one of the beds,” she murmured. I could feel her tension building, her hip movements bringing her toward an orgasm. “Prissy, would you like to… someday when you're alone, just let it happen… let Tom take you into one of the bedrooms and fuck you?”

“Oh darling… do you mean when… when you're not home?” she gasped.

“Uh-huh, when I'm at the office and you're alone… slip into his arms… give him a warm kiss and just let it happen, just hold your arms around his neck and let him back you toward one of the beds and...”

“Ohhhh you can’t be serious… you mean just let him push me down on one of the beds and… and fuck me, just like that… and you not there? Ohhh Ronnie, do you really want that to happen…?”

“Uh-huh… and you don't have to undress, just lie back and just lift your skirt for him... just slip your panties off and let him put his penis into you. Then, later that night, when we’re alone in bed… you could tell me… tell me all about it… what his penis felt like… what you did.”

“You’d like that… having me tell you, everything?”

“Uh-huh everything… like how he pushed his penis in deep and came inside you… and what that felt like.”

“Ohhhh God, you’d really want to know that… how he did it to me... what his penis felt like?”

Her belly tightened, she began gasping, sucking in quick deep breaths with her head tipped back and I could feel her gripped around my penis, the spastic clutching of her vagina, her nails cutting into my back, the orgasmic spasms rippling through her innards.

When it was over she lay there, flush-faced and still breathless, “Oh we shouldn't do such a thing... really let Tom fuck me," she gasped… "but ohhhh my God… maybe… maybe I will, maybe tomorrow afternoon, if I'm alone with him and you really want to let that happen……..”

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

To be continued in part 3
B. W. B.

[Rick H]

I remember this story from years back, on a predecessor of this site! Fact or fiction? This version is somewhat enhanced compared to the earlier one, but the plot and even the names are the same. This was one of those that I actually printed out.

[tay]

And the suspense builds! I love it!

[SjorsenSjimmyNL]

I remember this story from years back, on a predecessor of this site! Fact or fiction? This version is somewhat enhanced compared to the earlier one, but the plot and even the names are the same. This was one of those that I actually printed out.

It is one of my favourites for years. I really like the new one with a real exciting built-up. Even if it is fiction, I totally can imagine it happening!
Lookin forward to the next part!

[Greatwife8]

Can't wait to see part 3 and more, hope they arrive soon.

[SjorsenSjimmyNL]

Can't wait to see part 3 and more, hope they arrive soon.

I worry about Bertram W. Bronson. It is so long ago that he logged in into this forum. And yes, I am really looking forward for the next chapter.

[beg4ignore]

Damn this is so hot! Can't wait for part 3!