' The Wife Watcher’s Party ' … (Part 6)
Posted: Sat Mar 21, 2009 3:47 pm
“The Wife Watcher’s Party”
By Bertram W. Bronson
Chapter 6 … (“Remember… you promised…”)
Easily as a child snatching up a little rag doll, Marc swept my long-legged Wendy off her feet… and now, in the darkness behind the curtain I was squatted down on my knees, peering through a narrow crack, anxiously watching as he began carrying my feebly struggling wife toward the bed.
In a gesture of utter futility, my surprised wife twisted in his firm grip, struggling, her feet kicking the air, high heels flying off and her skirt riding up over her bare knees. The hemline of my wife's loose skirt sagged below her buttocks and from my hiding place I saw the quick exposure of Wendy's long thrashing legs, the backs of bare knees and the intermittent glimpse of white underpants.
Moving toward the bed with a hundred and ten pounds of wiggling squirming wife in his arms, Marc nearly lost his balance and Wendy's kicking feet swung directly toward my hiding place. For a fractional moment they stood there struggling… my wife's toes pointing toward my eyes… and there, in splendorous display between the pinched cheeks of her buttocks, was the hair-darkened crotch of my wife's thin white panties.
My one eye peering through the curtain flashed to where the little vertical mound of her vulva narrowed into the crack of her ass. Golden-brown pussy hairs strayed teasingly along the edges of her white panty crotch and I could see the little vertical indent where a dampened crease in the soft cotton always seems to work its way into the long split of my wife's cunt. It was just a momentary glimpse under the bottom of Wendy's skirt, but the sight of her exposure took my breath away…
I drew a ragged breath, realizing ‘he’ would soon be seeing and touching that little puffy mound in my wife's panty crotch. Listening to my wife's fearful whining, my fingers were trembling, desperately clenching the edges of the curtain.
“Ohhhh Marc… Ohhhhhh what are we doing?”
From the other side of the curtain, Wendy’s breathing came in quick breathy bursts of excitement… and in total astonishment as the full realization tumbled through her mind. This was no longer a game of teasing words and a little intimate touching. Suddenly she was clasped firmly in the strong arms of this handsome stranger and Marc’s every intent was to drop her wiggling behind onto the middle of that bed, strip off the rest of her clothes and slide a stiffened penis into her. Squatted down on my knees, one eye against the narrow crack in the curtain, I could see her lips trembling and hear the tremor in her voice…
“Marc… Marc, no put me down… we can’t… ohhhh not really…….”
Ignoring Wendy's whimpering and whining and feeling the warm weight of her struggling body in his arms, Marc was determined to have her. When his knees bumped the side of the bed, an eddying aroma of Wendy's scent must have been swirling around his head and I could see his fully erected cock pressing at an upward angle against the zipper of his pants. Squirming with anxiety, my pulse pounding, I watched him steady his balance and swing my struggling wife high over the bed. A swirling trail of long blonde hair swept through the air like the yellow tail of a kite and they twisted, turning… then almost falling before tumbling across the circle of a wide bed.
Wendy landed on her back and a part of Marc’s weight sent the breath bursting out of her in a little whoosh. With a creak of springs, the bed bounced, her skirt flared exposing smoothly tanned thighs and another flash of white panty crotch. Trying to smooth down the disarray of her clothing, my modest wife fumbled for the hem of her skirt. But with her jiggling breasts already bare, covering her thighs was a half-hearted and feeble effort. And ignoring her breathy little gasps of protest, Marc quickly pressed Wendy backward onto the bed.
Like a netted butterfly swept from the blue of a tropical sky, my timid Wendy lay there twitching and quivering. One of his hands slipped under the back of her neck and he quickly clutched a fistful of long blonde hair. As if he'd trapped a beautiful pink and yellow butterfly, he held her pretty head pinned down against the bed sheet. Watching through the split in the curtain, I saw my blushing wife struggling to sit up, but his fist gripped her hair… holding her down.
“Ohhh Marc… let go of my hair, you're scaring me. Ohhh let me sit up.”
Marc released the grip on her hair and she struggled up onto her elbows, but with a steady hand on Wendy's shoulder, he pressed her firmly backward again. Suddenly she went limp and fell back. With a slight bounce, my wife's lovely head flopped back down against the bed and now I noticed her eyes, they were wide-open and staring straight up over his shoulder at the ceiling. “Ohhhh my God… there’s another mirror up there. Ohhh Marc… I’m too embarrassed to do this. Ohhhh let me up…”
But he was leaning over my wife, his eyes fixed on her pretty face and I heard him murmur. “Wen, have you ever looked into a mirror... and watched yourself making love?”
“Ohhh god no…”
“Would you like to Wendy?” He pressed his face into the crook of my wife's neck. With his lips brushing against her warm skin, his voice lowered to barely a whisper. “Wen would you like to look up into the mirror and watch us together… see us naked… see us making love?”
She pleaded with her eyes… “I couldn't… ohhh don't… don't make me…”
“It would be very exciting Wen… to watch yourself with another man… to look up over his shoulder and see a very pretty blonde wife up there in the mirror… her arms clutched around the man’s neck… the white bottoms of her feet bouncing above his back. Wendy, can you imagine the thrill of seeing the girl’s big blues eyes staring back down… and all the while, she’s watching a pretty Kansas housewife making love with another man?”
“I don't know… I love my husband… Ohh God, I don't know…”
His fingers reached for the zipper of her rumpled skirt, but as my wife tried to roll onto her side, his hand quickly cupped over her hip bone and he held her firmly down on the satin bed cover. Wendy wiggled, her hips twisting… her skirt riding up her parted thighs nearly to the white triangle of her panties. Now I realized the ceiling above the bed was also mirrored, but from behind the curtain the images were beyond my view.
And while Wendy’s frightened blue eyes were staring upward at the mirror, his eyes darted between my wife's bent knees. He lowered his head, allowing his eyes to roam up under the hemline of her wrinkled skirt and into the narrow space between her thighs. Wendy saw his eyes staring into the shadowy area between her knees… quickly she clasped her bare thighs, closing off the salacious view of her white panty crotch. Then her eyes flicked toward the front of his pants, to the lump of his straining cock and the sound of her trembling voice drifted into my hiding place.
“Ohh no Marc… not under my skirt… not my panties… ohhh no, you shouldn’t take my panties off… or… or take your penis out…”
Behind the curtain my feelings raged. Marc’s hand settled onto her knee. His fingers slowly easing up under Wendy's loose skirt, onto the warm skin of her bare thighs… fingertips grazing her skin… inching toward the little pussy mound in the center of her white panty crotch. She pushed Marc’s hand out from under her skirt and when I heard her little frightened gasp of breath, wide washes of adrenaline surged through my guts. Watching the nervous flutter of Wendy's eyelashes, listening to her whining little pleas, I wanted to scream.
“We can’t Marc… we can’t… if I take my panties off, you'll… you'll try to fuck me… I know you will,” she whined in a little scary voice. But even as Wendy was pinching her knees together and trying to hold her skirt down, I remembered the strict admonition of my hostess…
And Marilyn’s words swirled through my consciousness… I could almost hear her stern warning, “Brad, your wife is a shy young girl and so it’s very likely you'll hear Wendy whimpering and pleading… perhaps there'll even be some teary-eyed sobbing, but you must do nothing to stop Marc from taking her. Just peek through the crack while Marc gets your timid wife out of her clothes. After a struggle, Wendy will give-in and you can listen to the bed creaking and watch them make love, but don't let the curtain move and don’t make even the slightest sound!”
But my fingers holding the curtain were shaking… my guts churning. Marc was about to pull my wife's panties off and slide a long stiffened cock into her and I could feel the sweat gathering in my armpits and my jangled nerves crawling from the tension. With her hotly flushed face buried against the side of Marc’s neck, my wife's muffled little pleas were barely reaching my straining ears. About to witness the raw sight of my timid wife being fucked by another man, the little achy feeling was crawling ever deeper into my stomach and kneeling on the floor, my toes were pinched and my knees had cramped.
Cautiously, heeding the warning of my hostess, I gently loosened my fingers and allowed the crack in the curtain to slowly close… the slight movement went unnoticed. Easing silently away from the base of the curtain, I squatted helplessly next to the big empty chair. A minute or two passed as I leaned back against the chair and slipped my shoes off. I tossed my shoes aside and sat there listening while struggling to slow and control the raspy sound of my breathing.
In the darkness, my eyes drifted to a glimmer of white on the padded floor. Then I remembered… it was the box of Kleenex tissues my hostess had placed next to the leg of the chair. On the other side of the curtain, Wendy was making soft moaning sounds and the urge to stroke my cock was growing ever stronger. Absently I reached out; the box was conveniently open and when my nervous fingers brushed across the tempting softness of a tissue, a warm pulsing rush of need rose up into my groin. I could feel the pulsing head of my cock straining pleasurably against the constriction of my pants. My fingers strayed from my belt buckle and toyed with my zipper tab. Another little whimper drifted through the curtain and I knew… at the first sound of creaking bed springs, the humiliating need to unzip and relieve myself into a tissue was going to become impossible to resist…
A compelling urge came over me to get very close and try looking directly down onto my wife's pretty face… to secretly stare right down into her eyes and unzip my pants and stroke my cock while another man made love to her. And having tumbled clear across the circular bed, I knew Wendy’s head was barely a foot away from the curvature of heavy drapery. But in the confinement of my darkened hiding place I was a trapped animal, only able to scuffle on my hands and knees along the curving base of the curtain.
Crawling silently along the padded floor, I paused at the sliver of light which I guessed to be closest to my wife’s head. Separated only by the thickness of the curtain, our heads were now only inches apart. So close could hear Wendy breathing and the soft panting of her breath. But now I was a little hesitant to touch the curtain again. I was unsteady, my hands were trembling. I was in fear that she might be looking upward and see the tips of my shaking fingers or notice a slight movement of the the curtain. I imagined her jumping off the bed with a little squeal of fright and I thought... oh my God, how humiliating if my wife catches me hiding and spying on her.
And how would I ever explain this compulsion to witness my timid wife being fucked by another man… and this groin tightening need to masturbate while watching his stiff cock sliding in-and out of her warm fertile belly… and how could I ever admit that I'd conspired to place her into this compromising situation???
So for a few moments I squatted helplessly on the floor… my eyes riveted on the enticing sliver of light, not daring to make a sound, not daring to part the curtain. Another minute passed and I couldn't see. I just listened while my jangled nerves screamed from the inaction. There was just the sound of feeble struggling, breathy exhalations and little whimpering murmurs. “We shouldn't be alone like this… ohhh we shouldn't…”
I heard a slight sound of movement… barely audible to my straining ears, a slight creak of the bed, then clearly, the duel thump thump of his shoes hitting the floor, again I felt the adrenaline rushing through my pumping heart. Then my wife’s little pleading voice. It was a fearful voice, but one just quivering with excitement. “Ohhh Marc this is too frightening… ohh no, don't take your pants off…”
I'd heard his shoes fall to the floor and I began to wonder if he'd also dropped his pants… maybe his cock was out of his pants… maybe he already had his hands up under my wife’s skirt… tugging at her panties, getting ready to fuck her. Again I remembered Marilyn’s teasing description of Marc’s cock and I began to fret about its length and the thickness of the swollen head. My mind was reeling. Behind the curtain another man with a lengthy stiff cock was preparing to fuck my wife and time became a meaningless concept… I couldn't stand it any longer.
My hands were trembling, but I reached out to the vertical sliver of light and being very careful not to shake or move the curtain; I slowly inched the edges aside. Kneeling quietly on the padded floor, I leaned forward and cautiously brought my eye to the narrow opening. Able to hear my wife's soft murmurs, I strained to slow and conceal the sound of my own hoarse breathing… and then I peered down into the ‘watching’ room.
It seemed such a wild impossible dream… she was still lying across the bed on her back with a cascade of long shimmering hair spilling over the side of the big curving bed. And I was staring straight down onto my pretty wife’s blushing face. From my angle of view, I was looking right down onto the top of her blonde head and her forehead. And my wife was so near, I could even see the freckles on her pert little up-turned nose and the long dark eyelashes that hid her deep blue eyes.
My God it was stunning to be hidden and yet be so close to my wife's blushing face. I could have slipped my fingers through the curtain and actually touched her golden hair and if Wendy had tipped her head back even slightly, I would have been staring right down into her wide-open eyes.
The sordid thought… the raw thrills were washing through my jangles nerves… what was it going to feel like, to secretly stare right down into my wife's big blue eyes while she’s being fucked by another man? Shivering with nervous excitement, I squatted on the floor of my hiding place, wondering how I was going to feel listening to her squeals and seeing close-up, the glistening excitement in her eyes, her knees bending back as Marc buries the thick pulsing head of his cock deep into her belly… then seeing it gliding in-and-out… the long length shinny and glistening with my wife's creamy fluids. The image of Wendy's pink cunt clasped around his long slippery cock sent quivering shivers up and down my spine.
And with my eye-ball centered on the sliver of light, I stared on through the split in the curtain. Propped up on one elbow, Marc still had his pants on, but he was still leaning over my wife, looking down at the exposure of her stunning breasts. I watched him lightly grasp Wendy's little dimpled chin and gently turn her blushing face. Her blue eyes opened wider, his lips neared… then like the lowering of lacy curtains, her lashes shyly dropped and I watched his lips move toward hers. “Oh I shouldn't,” she murmured, but her pretty face turned up… his lips brushed against hers. My wife's arms coiled up around his neck… drawing him down against her bare breasts. His lips firmed against hers, with a long sigh her lips parted, the warm tip of her wet tongue searching for his.
And I watched as it continued, the squeezes and kisses, the fondling and feeling. I watched the hand on her hip move across the roundness of her naked belly and cup a plump tender breast, heard her sigh as he gently squeezed. My wife's pert pink nipple lay between the soft clasp of his thumb and forefinger. His lips barely brushed the textured tender nipple, then again, this time the tip of his tongue leaving a little wet streak across the pinkness of her areola…
Her delicate fingers clenched into tight little fists and Wendy shuddered as the flat of his tongue began wiping a circular swath of warm saliva around the pink pucker of her nipple. There were soft whimpering moans… and little tiny tears squeezed out at the corners of her tightly closed eyes. “Ohhhhhhh god……… ohhhhhhhhhh…”
Then, helpless to resist, her hands went limp. “Yes, ohhh yes, touch me… touch me there… with your tongue…”
Her back arched… shoulders shifting side-to-side, Wendy offered the pinkish nipples of her bare breasts and his lips parted, closing warmly over her left nipple, light suctioning pulls drew the puckered pinkness against the tingling touch of his warm suckling tongue. “Yes… ohhh yes, suck it,” she whimpered softly, tossing her head side-to-side… her hair spreading across the bedding like the unfurling of a golden fan. Suddenly, her head tipped back, dark lashes fluttered and from only inches away, now wide-open blue eyes seemed to be staring straight up at me. Instinctively I flinched and drew my eye slightly away from the split in the curtain.
But the whimpering little moans continued. Cautiously I brought my eye back to the sliver of light… his face was lifting away from the wet nipple of her breast and I watched them kiss again, long eye lashes fluttering, going starry-eyed… pupils dilating and turning a deeper glassy blue. The kiss broke… with gasping little breaths her lips stayed apart while his tongue trailed along the curve of her neck, back to her breasts. She was squirming, her shoulders shifting slightly as he suckled her left nipple.
"The other,” she moaned… “Ohhh my God… ohhhhhh…”
Suddenly my wife's fingers clasped the back of Marc’s neck; her fingers tangling into his dark hair as she urged his mouth from one puckered nipple to the other. Wendy's tender saliva-wetted nipples had tightened into pink points of sensation and I could hear the breathy gasps as the light suctioning pull of his lips sent shivering waves of excitement down through her tense belly muscles. “Ohhhh… ohhh,” again and again she moaned.
Wendy whimpered in little sobbing breaths as his lips moved from her tender nipples and kissed downward along her bare stomach… little nibbling bites and kisses around her dainty belly button… little wet licks along the trail of downy blonde belly fuzz that disappeared under the waist of her skirt.
His hand eased slowly downward between her legs, feeling through the material of her skirt and panties, gently he cupped his fingers over the warm puffy mound of her genitalia. “Ohh no,” she gasped even as her hips twisted about in squirmy little wiggles, but she clasped a restraining grip on his wrist. “Ohhh Marc no… we can't, not under my skirt again… ohh not there…”
But Marc held the mound of her pussy cupped in his hand, massaging the little hummock, feeling the crinkly hairs and soft flesh while trying to reach further between her closed thighs. He began to take little pinches of the fabric between his fingers, slowly scrunching the hemline of her skirt higher… above her knees, halfway up her smooth sun-tanned thighs. Feeling the brush of fabric on her bare skin, my wife's bare toes began wiggling in excitement.
“Wen you're so lovely, your bare breasts are just breathtaking… lift your skirt,” he whispered, “let me see you more of you…”
“Oh my God… We shouldn't… Marc we shouldn't…”
“Just your panties… lift your skirt so I can see your panties, let me touch inside your panties again.”
“Marc… ohhh no… I'm too scared, I've never…”
He paused, letting the back of his knuckles brush gently across her flaming cheek. Marc looked down into Wendy's wide blue eyes and I watched him slowly twining a few silky strands of my wife's long hair around his finger. The soft blonde strands were curled around his finger like the shinny gold of a wedding band. He lifted his finger and brushed the coil of honey-colored hair across his lips…
“Wen,” he whispered softly… “Are you blonde… down there?”
“I'm… I’m… ohhh Marc, don't ask things like that… ohhh my God…”
He smiled, letting the tip of his wet tongue touch the coil of Wendy's golden hair… “I'll stop asking if you show me,” he teased.
Only inches from my hiding place, my shivering wife lay there on her back; his saliva was glistening on the pink pucker of her nipples and her skirt was shucked up nearly to the white crotch of her panties. While Wendy’s face flamed with embarrassment, his eyes roamed from her exposed breasts to her dimpled bare knees and back.
“If I do… ohhh Marc, if I lift up my skirt and… and let you look… and feel under my panties, will you stop, when… well, if I get too scared?”
“My little Kansas sweetheart,” he whispered… “What happens will be only what we both want to happen.”
“You won't try to… to fuck me? You promise…?”
“Mmm humm,” he murmured rather vaguely.
Holding my breath I stared through the curtain… my shy wife settled her heels against the bed sheet, with her little pink-painted toes up-pointed, she drew her heels back a little toward her bottom and the hem-line of her skirt slipped over her bare knees… Nervously, Wendy turned her blushing face away from Marc’s watching eyes. I waited, my heart thumping, my fists clenched as my lovely shy wife fumbled nervously with the bottom of her skirt.
Big sky-blue eyes were staring nervously up at Marc. With her pretty face hotly flushed, my wife slowly lifted her skirt nearly up to the white vee of her panty crotch. “Show me… Wen, show me the crotch of your panties,” he whispered.
“Ohhh god,” she moaned. “But you can’t unzip your pants… I'll be too scared if you take your penis out… Ohhh Marc, I’ve never… fucked with another man… not ever.”
But a moment later, one bent knee drifted a bit from the other and soft rose-colored light slanted into the narrow space between her thighs… the blush on her pretty face deepened, long dark eye-lashes fluttered and slowly lowered against her flaming cheeks and then… my hot-faced wife lifted her feet… and spread her knees…
And it was there, right before Marc’s staring eyes, a little raised pouch in the center of my wife's thin panty crotch… along the edges, curly wisps of bronze colored pussy hairs lay in contrast to the white skin in the crease of her groin.
I watched his hand easing slowly along the smooth skin of Wendy's inner thigh… his fingertips tracing along the elastic edge of her panty crotch… brushing over the little wisps of stray pubic hairs. Dampness had soaked through where the crease in her panty crotch had tucked into the long split of her cunt.
Marc trailed a finger along the vertical indent in the crotch of Wendy's white cotton panties… up to her tender clit and back… he pressed where the soft cotton narrowed into the crease of her buttocks. Warm moisture seeped through the panty fabric… moistening the tip of his finger…
A heartbeat later, I saw his fingertip sneaking under the loose elastic of my wife's panty crotch… in a flash it disappeared into her tangle of curly pussy hairs. My wife tipped her head back and gasped, I swallowed hard, nervously watching the shape of his middle finger moving under the cotton fabric… the knuckle slightly bent, his fingertip inching through her thin pubic curls and easing toward the crease of slippery pink. Wendy's belly muscles suddenly tightened, her eyes flashed nervously at the front of Marc’s pants… his cock was straining upward… tenting the front of his pants.
“Remember… you promised,” she whispered in a little scary voice.
**********
To be continued in (Chapter 7)
B.W.B.
By Bertram W. Bronson
Chapter 6 … (“Remember… you promised…”)
Easily as a child snatching up a little rag doll, Marc swept my long-legged Wendy off her feet… and now, in the darkness behind the curtain I was squatted down on my knees, peering through a narrow crack, anxiously watching as he began carrying my feebly struggling wife toward the bed.
In a gesture of utter futility, my surprised wife twisted in his firm grip, struggling, her feet kicking the air, high heels flying off and her skirt riding up over her bare knees. The hemline of my wife's loose skirt sagged below her buttocks and from my hiding place I saw the quick exposure of Wendy's long thrashing legs, the backs of bare knees and the intermittent glimpse of white underpants.
Moving toward the bed with a hundred and ten pounds of wiggling squirming wife in his arms, Marc nearly lost his balance and Wendy's kicking feet swung directly toward my hiding place. For a fractional moment they stood there struggling… my wife's toes pointing toward my eyes… and there, in splendorous display between the pinched cheeks of her buttocks, was the hair-darkened crotch of my wife's thin white panties.
My one eye peering through the curtain flashed to where the little vertical mound of her vulva narrowed into the crack of her ass. Golden-brown pussy hairs strayed teasingly along the edges of her white panty crotch and I could see the little vertical indent where a dampened crease in the soft cotton always seems to work its way into the long split of my wife's cunt. It was just a momentary glimpse under the bottom of Wendy's skirt, but the sight of her exposure took my breath away…
I drew a ragged breath, realizing ‘he’ would soon be seeing and touching that little puffy mound in my wife's panty crotch. Listening to my wife's fearful whining, my fingers were trembling, desperately clenching the edges of the curtain.
“Ohhhh Marc… Ohhhhhh what are we doing?”
From the other side of the curtain, Wendy’s breathing came in quick breathy bursts of excitement… and in total astonishment as the full realization tumbled through her mind. This was no longer a game of teasing words and a little intimate touching. Suddenly she was clasped firmly in the strong arms of this handsome stranger and Marc’s every intent was to drop her wiggling behind onto the middle of that bed, strip off the rest of her clothes and slide a stiffened penis into her. Squatted down on my knees, one eye against the narrow crack in the curtain, I could see her lips trembling and hear the tremor in her voice…
“Marc… Marc, no put me down… we can’t… ohhhh not really…….”
Ignoring Wendy's whimpering and whining and feeling the warm weight of her struggling body in his arms, Marc was determined to have her. When his knees bumped the side of the bed, an eddying aroma of Wendy's scent must have been swirling around his head and I could see his fully erected cock pressing at an upward angle against the zipper of his pants. Squirming with anxiety, my pulse pounding, I watched him steady his balance and swing my struggling wife high over the bed. A swirling trail of long blonde hair swept through the air like the yellow tail of a kite and they twisted, turning… then almost falling before tumbling across the circle of a wide bed.
Wendy landed on her back and a part of Marc’s weight sent the breath bursting out of her in a little whoosh. With a creak of springs, the bed bounced, her skirt flared exposing smoothly tanned thighs and another flash of white panty crotch. Trying to smooth down the disarray of her clothing, my modest wife fumbled for the hem of her skirt. But with her jiggling breasts already bare, covering her thighs was a half-hearted and feeble effort. And ignoring her breathy little gasps of protest, Marc quickly pressed Wendy backward onto the bed.
Like a netted butterfly swept from the blue of a tropical sky, my timid Wendy lay there twitching and quivering. One of his hands slipped under the back of her neck and he quickly clutched a fistful of long blonde hair. As if he'd trapped a beautiful pink and yellow butterfly, he held her pretty head pinned down against the bed sheet. Watching through the split in the curtain, I saw my blushing wife struggling to sit up, but his fist gripped her hair… holding her down.
“Ohhh Marc… let go of my hair, you're scaring me. Ohhh let me sit up.”
Marc released the grip on her hair and she struggled up onto her elbows, but with a steady hand on Wendy's shoulder, he pressed her firmly backward again. Suddenly she went limp and fell back. With a slight bounce, my wife's lovely head flopped back down against the bed and now I noticed her eyes, they were wide-open and staring straight up over his shoulder at the ceiling. “Ohhhh my God… there’s another mirror up there. Ohhh Marc… I’m too embarrassed to do this. Ohhhh let me up…”
But he was leaning over my wife, his eyes fixed on her pretty face and I heard him murmur. “Wen, have you ever looked into a mirror... and watched yourself making love?”
“Ohhh god no…”
“Would you like to Wendy?” He pressed his face into the crook of my wife's neck. With his lips brushing against her warm skin, his voice lowered to barely a whisper. “Wen would you like to look up into the mirror and watch us together… see us naked… see us making love?”
She pleaded with her eyes… “I couldn't… ohhh don't… don't make me…”
“It would be very exciting Wen… to watch yourself with another man… to look up over his shoulder and see a very pretty blonde wife up there in the mirror… her arms clutched around the man’s neck… the white bottoms of her feet bouncing above his back. Wendy, can you imagine the thrill of seeing the girl’s big blues eyes staring back down… and all the while, she’s watching a pretty Kansas housewife making love with another man?”
“I don't know… I love my husband… Ohh God, I don't know…”
His fingers reached for the zipper of her rumpled skirt, but as my wife tried to roll onto her side, his hand quickly cupped over her hip bone and he held her firmly down on the satin bed cover. Wendy wiggled, her hips twisting… her skirt riding up her parted thighs nearly to the white triangle of her panties. Now I realized the ceiling above the bed was also mirrored, but from behind the curtain the images were beyond my view.
And while Wendy’s frightened blue eyes were staring upward at the mirror, his eyes darted between my wife's bent knees. He lowered his head, allowing his eyes to roam up under the hemline of her wrinkled skirt and into the narrow space between her thighs. Wendy saw his eyes staring into the shadowy area between her knees… quickly she clasped her bare thighs, closing off the salacious view of her white panty crotch. Then her eyes flicked toward the front of his pants, to the lump of his straining cock and the sound of her trembling voice drifted into my hiding place.
“Ohh no Marc… not under my skirt… not my panties… ohhh no, you shouldn’t take my panties off… or… or take your penis out…”
Behind the curtain my feelings raged. Marc’s hand settled onto her knee. His fingers slowly easing up under Wendy's loose skirt, onto the warm skin of her bare thighs… fingertips grazing her skin… inching toward the little pussy mound in the center of her white panty crotch. She pushed Marc’s hand out from under her skirt and when I heard her little frightened gasp of breath, wide washes of adrenaline surged through my guts. Watching the nervous flutter of Wendy's eyelashes, listening to her whining little pleas, I wanted to scream.
“We can’t Marc… we can’t… if I take my panties off, you'll… you'll try to fuck me… I know you will,” she whined in a little scary voice. But even as Wendy was pinching her knees together and trying to hold her skirt down, I remembered the strict admonition of my hostess…
And Marilyn’s words swirled through my consciousness… I could almost hear her stern warning, “Brad, your wife is a shy young girl and so it’s very likely you'll hear Wendy whimpering and pleading… perhaps there'll even be some teary-eyed sobbing, but you must do nothing to stop Marc from taking her. Just peek through the crack while Marc gets your timid wife out of her clothes. After a struggle, Wendy will give-in and you can listen to the bed creaking and watch them make love, but don't let the curtain move and don’t make even the slightest sound!”
But my fingers holding the curtain were shaking… my guts churning. Marc was about to pull my wife's panties off and slide a long stiffened cock into her and I could feel the sweat gathering in my armpits and my jangled nerves crawling from the tension. With her hotly flushed face buried against the side of Marc’s neck, my wife's muffled little pleas were barely reaching my straining ears. About to witness the raw sight of my timid wife being fucked by another man, the little achy feeling was crawling ever deeper into my stomach and kneeling on the floor, my toes were pinched and my knees had cramped.
Cautiously, heeding the warning of my hostess, I gently loosened my fingers and allowed the crack in the curtain to slowly close… the slight movement went unnoticed. Easing silently away from the base of the curtain, I squatted helplessly next to the big empty chair. A minute or two passed as I leaned back against the chair and slipped my shoes off. I tossed my shoes aside and sat there listening while struggling to slow and control the raspy sound of my breathing.
In the darkness, my eyes drifted to a glimmer of white on the padded floor. Then I remembered… it was the box of Kleenex tissues my hostess had placed next to the leg of the chair. On the other side of the curtain, Wendy was making soft moaning sounds and the urge to stroke my cock was growing ever stronger. Absently I reached out; the box was conveniently open and when my nervous fingers brushed across the tempting softness of a tissue, a warm pulsing rush of need rose up into my groin. I could feel the pulsing head of my cock straining pleasurably against the constriction of my pants. My fingers strayed from my belt buckle and toyed with my zipper tab. Another little whimper drifted through the curtain and I knew… at the first sound of creaking bed springs, the humiliating need to unzip and relieve myself into a tissue was going to become impossible to resist…
A compelling urge came over me to get very close and try looking directly down onto my wife's pretty face… to secretly stare right down into her eyes and unzip my pants and stroke my cock while another man made love to her. And having tumbled clear across the circular bed, I knew Wendy’s head was barely a foot away from the curvature of heavy drapery. But in the confinement of my darkened hiding place I was a trapped animal, only able to scuffle on my hands and knees along the curving base of the curtain.
Crawling silently along the padded floor, I paused at the sliver of light which I guessed to be closest to my wife’s head. Separated only by the thickness of the curtain, our heads were now only inches apart. So close could hear Wendy breathing and the soft panting of her breath. But now I was a little hesitant to touch the curtain again. I was unsteady, my hands were trembling. I was in fear that she might be looking upward and see the tips of my shaking fingers or notice a slight movement of the the curtain. I imagined her jumping off the bed with a little squeal of fright and I thought... oh my God, how humiliating if my wife catches me hiding and spying on her.
And how would I ever explain this compulsion to witness my timid wife being fucked by another man… and this groin tightening need to masturbate while watching his stiff cock sliding in-and out of her warm fertile belly… and how could I ever admit that I'd conspired to place her into this compromising situation???
So for a few moments I squatted helplessly on the floor… my eyes riveted on the enticing sliver of light, not daring to make a sound, not daring to part the curtain. Another minute passed and I couldn't see. I just listened while my jangled nerves screamed from the inaction. There was just the sound of feeble struggling, breathy exhalations and little whimpering murmurs. “We shouldn't be alone like this… ohhh we shouldn't…”
I heard a slight sound of movement… barely audible to my straining ears, a slight creak of the bed, then clearly, the duel thump thump of his shoes hitting the floor, again I felt the adrenaline rushing through my pumping heart. Then my wife’s little pleading voice. It was a fearful voice, but one just quivering with excitement. “Ohhh Marc this is too frightening… ohh no, don't take your pants off…”
I'd heard his shoes fall to the floor and I began to wonder if he'd also dropped his pants… maybe his cock was out of his pants… maybe he already had his hands up under my wife’s skirt… tugging at her panties, getting ready to fuck her. Again I remembered Marilyn’s teasing description of Marc’s cock and I began to fret about its length and the thickness of the swollen head. My mind was reeling. Behind the curtain another man with a lengthy stiff cock was preparing to fuck my wife and time became a meaningless concept… I couldn't stand it any longer.
My hands were trembling, but I reached out to the vertical sliver of light and being very careful not to shake or move the curtain; I slowly inched the edges aside. Kneeling quietly on the padded floor, I leaned forward and cautiously brought my eye to the narrow opening. Able to hear my wife's soft murmurs, I strained to slow and conceal the sound of my own hoarse breathing… and then I peered down into the ‘watching’ room.
It seemed such a wild impossible dream… she was still lying across the bed on her back with a cascade of long shimmering hair spilling over the side of the big curving bed. And I was staring straight down onto my pretty wife’s blushing face. From my angle of view, I was looking right down onto the top of her blonde head and her forehead. And my wife was so near, I could even see the freckles on her pert little up-turned nose and the long dark eyelashes that hid her deep blue eyes.
My God it was stunning to be hidden and yet be so close to my wife's blushing face. I could have slipped my fingers through the curtain and actually touched her golden hair and if Wendy had tipped her head back even slightly, I would have been staring right down into her wide-open eyes.
The sordid thought… the raw thrills were washing through my jangles nerves… what was it going to feel like, to secretly stare right down into my wife's big blue eyes while she’s being fucked by another man? Shivering with nervous excitement, I squatted on the floor of my hiding place, wondering how I was going to feel listening to her squeals and seeing close-up, the glistening excitement in her eyes, her knees bending back as Marc buries the thick pulsing head of his cock deep into her belly… then seeing it gliding in-and-out… the long length shinny and glistening with my wife's creamy fluids. The image of Wendy's pink cunt clasped around his long slippery cock sent quivering shivers up and down my spine.
And with my eye-ball centered on the sliver of light, I stared on through the split in the curtain. Propped up on one elbow, Marc still had his pants on, but he was still leaning over my wife, looking down at the exposure of her stunning breasts. I watched him lightly grasp Wendy's little dimpled chin and gently turn her blushing face. Her blue eyes opened wider, his lips neared… then like the lowering of lacy curtains, her lashes shyly dropped and I watched his lips move toward hers. “Oh I shouldn't,” she murmured, but her pretty face turned up… his lips brushed against hers. My wife's arms coiled up around his neck… drawing him down against her bare breasts. His lips firmed against hers, with a long sigh her lips parted, the warm tip of her wet tongue searching for his.
And I watched as it continued, the squeezes and kisses, the fondling and feeling. I watched the hand on her hip move across the roundness of her naked belly and cup a plump tender breast, heard her sigh as he gently squeezed. My wife's pert pink nipple lay between the soft clasp of his thumb and forefinger. His lips barely brushed the textured tender nipple, then again, this time the tip of his tongue leaving a little wet streak across the pinkness of her areola…
Her delicate fingers clenched into tight little fists and Wendy shuddered as the flat of his tongue began wiping a circular swath of warm saliva around the pink pucker of her nipple. There were soft whimpering moans… and little tiny tears squeezed out at the corners of her tightly closed eyes. “Ohhhhhhh god……… ohhhhhhhhhh…”
Then, helpless to resist, her hands went limp. “Yes, ohhh yes, touch me… touch me there… with your tongue…”
Her back arched… shoulders shifting side-to-side, Wendy offered the pinkish nipples of her bare breasts and his lips parted, closing warmly over her left nipple, light suctioning pulls drew the puckered pinkness against the tingling touch of his warm suckling tongue. “Yes… ohhh yes, suck it,” she whimpered softly, tossing her head side-to-side… her hair spreading across the bedding like the unfurling of a golden fan. Suddenly, her head tipped back, dark lashes fluttered and from only inches away, now wide-open blue eyes seemed to be staring straight up at me. Instinctively I flinched and drew my eye slightly away from the split in the curtain.
But the whimpering little moans continued. Cautiously I brought my eye back to the sliver of light… his face was lifting away from the wet nipple of her breast and I watched them kiss again, long eye lashes fluttering, going starry-eyed… pupils dilating and turning a deeper glassy blue. The kiss broke… with gasping little breaths her lips stayed apart while his tongue trailed along the curve of her neck, back to her breasts. She was squirming, her shoulders shifting slightly as he suckled her left nipple.
"The other,” she moaned… “Ohhh my God… ohhhhhh…”
Suddenly my wife's fingers clasped the back of Marc’s neck; her fingers tangling into his dark hair as she urged his mouth from one puckered nipple to the other. Wendy's tender saliva-wetted nipples had tightened into pink points of sensation and I could hear the breathy gasps as the light suctioning pull of his lips sent shivering waves of excitement down through her tense belly muscles. “Ohhhh… ohhh,” again and again she moaned.
Wendy whimpered in little sobbing breaths as his lips moved from her tender nipples and kissed downward along her bare stomach… little nibbling bites and kisses around her dainty belly button… little wet licks along the trail of downy blonde belly fuzz that disappeared under the waist of her skirt.
His hand eased slowly downward between her legs, feeling through the material of her skirt and panties, gently he cupped his fingers over the warm puffy mound of her genitalia. “Ohh no,” she gasped even as her hips twisted about in squirmy little wiggles, but she clasped a restraining grip on his wrist. “Ohhh Marc no… we can't, not under my skirt again… ohh not there…”
But Marc held the mound of her pussy cupped in his hand, massaging the little hummock, feeling the crinkly hairs and soft flesh while trying to reach further between her closed thighs. He began to take little pinches of the fabric between his fingers, slowly scrunching the hemline of her skirt higher… above her knees, halfway up her smooth sun-tanned thighs. Feeling the brush of fabric on her bare skin, my wife's bare toes began wiggling in excitement.
“Wen you're so lovely, your bare breasts are just breathtaking… lift your skirt,” he whispered, “let me see you more of you…”
“Oh my God… We shouldn't… Marc we shouldn't…”
“Just your panties… lift your skirt so I can see your panties, let me touch inside your panties again.”
“Marc… ohhh no… I'm too scared, I've never…”
He paused, letting the back of his knuckles brush gently across her flaming cheek. Marc looked down into Wendy's wide blue eyes and I watched him slowly twining a few silky strands of my wife's long hair around his finger. The soft blonde strands were curled around his finger like the shinny gold of a wedding band. He lifted his finger and brushed the coil of honey-colored hair across his lips…
“Wen,” he whispered softly… “Are you blonde… down there?”
“I'm… I’m… ohhh Marc, don't ask things like that… ohhh my God…”
He smiled, letting the tip of his wet tongue touch the coil of Wendy's golden hair… “I'll stop asking if you show me,” he teased.
Only inches from my hiding place, my shivering wife lay there on her back; his saliva was glistening on the pink pucker of her nipples and her skirt was shucked up nearly to the white crotch of her panties. While Wendy’s face flamed with embarrassment, his eyes roamed from her exposed breasts to her dimpled bare knees and back.
“If I do… ohhh Marc, if I lift up my skirt and… and let you look… and feel under my panties, will you stop, when… well, if I get too scared?”
“My little Kansas sweetheart,” he whispered… “What happens will be only what we both want to happen.”
“You won't try to… to fuck me? You promise…?”
“Mmm humm,” he murmured rather vaguely.
Holding my breath I stared through the curtain… my shy wife settled her heels against the bed sheet, with her little pink-painted toes up-pointed, she drew her heels back a little toward her bottom and the hem-line of her skirt slipped over her bare knees… Nervously, Wendy turned her blushing face away from Marc’s watching eyes. I waited, my heart thumping, my fists clenched as my lovely shy wife fumbled nervously with the bottom of her skirt.
Big sky-blue eyes were staring nervously up at Marc. With her pretty face hotly flushed, my wife slowly lifted her skirt nearly up to the white vee of her panty crotch. “Show me… Wen, show me the crotch of your panties,” he whispered.
“Ohhh god,” she moaned. “But you can’t unzip your pants… I'll be too scared if you take your penis out… Ohhh Marc, I’ve never… fucked with another man… not ever.”
But a moment later, one bent knee drifted a bit from the other and soft rose-colored light slanted into the narrow space between her thighs… the blush on her pretty face deepened, long dark eye-lashes fluttered and slowly lowered against her flaming cheeks and then… my hot-faced wife lifted her feet… and spread her knees…
And it was there, right before Marc’s staring eyes, a little raised pouch in the center of my wife's thin panty crotch… along the edges, curly wisps of bronze colored pussy hairs lay in contrast to the white skin in the crease of her groin.
I watched his hand easing slowly along the smooth skin of Wendy's inner thigh… his fingertips tracing along the elastic edge of her panty crotch… brushing over the little wisps of stray pubic hairs. Dampness had soaked through where the crease in her panty crotch had tucked into the long split of her cunt.
Marc trailed a finger along the vertical indent in the crotch of Wendy's white cotton panties… up to her tender clit and back… he pressed where the soft cotton narrowed into the crease of her buttocks. Warm moisture seeped through the panty fabric… moistening the tip of his finger…
A heartbeat later, I saw his fingertip sneaking under the loose elastic of my wife's panty crotch… in a flash it disappeared into her tangle of curly pussy hairs. My wife tipped her head back and gasped, I swallowed hard, nervously watching the shape of his middle finger moving under the cotton fabric… the knuckle slightly bent, his fingertip inching through her thin pubic curls and easing toward the crease of slippery pink. Wendy's belly muscles suddenly tightened, her eyes flashed nervously at the front of Marc’s pants… his cock was straining upward… tenting the front of his pants.
“Remember… you promised,” she whispered in a little scary voice.
**********
To be continued in (Chapter 7)
B.W.B.