' The Making of Mindy ' ...(Part 6) Of a wife-watching story
Posted: Wed Apr 16, 2008 6:20 pm
The Making of Mindy,
By: Bertram W. Bronson
Part (6)
Tense minutes passed, Mindy had not returned. Next to me on the sofa there was still no pretty blonde head, just a disturbingly big empty seat and sadly the lingering warmth of female buttocks had long ago dissipated. I squirmed about, watching for her to appear across the room. It seemed an eternity, but the mind of a nervous man develops an illogical concept of eternity and so it seemed, as I sat transfixed in the endless grip of passing time.
I stared at the empty corridor waiting for the first glimpse of a disheveled blonde head. And when Russ finally brought my “well-used” little wife back to me I tried to act calm and unemotional, but my heart was in my mouth and my cock was still pressing against my pants. Suddenly, with down-cast eyes my little sweetheart was walking toward me. She was a little wobbly on her feet, barefooted and carrying her shoes. An image of her shoes and panties on the attic floor rushed into my mind and I felt like jumping to my feet and pulling her into the protection of my arms. But I sat frozen in place as she hurried to my side.
In a moment she was standing between my knees with a hot flush of shame on her cheeks. My arms clasped around her hips, drawing her warm stomach against my face. She dropped her shoes and I felt the reassuring comfort of her fingers curling into the hair on the back of my head. Without a sound, without a word, I just held her against my face, breathing in her warmth and the imagined scent of what she had just done.
Shy little Mindy had obviously been the recipient of a very thorough bed-creaking tumble; she was hot and rumpled, hair slightly mussed and her skirt wrinkled. As I knew it would, the sight of her rumpled state took my breath away. Mindy was blushing, her skin warm as she slipped next to me on the sofa and squeezed my hand. Why is it the heat and scent of sex lingers so long on the warm skin of a woman? A little ashamed, she slanted her eyes away.
We gripped hands, momentarily avoiding eye contact. It had been less than a half hour since another man slipped his softening penis from the clasp of my wife’s warm vagina and in the ensuing grip of emotion we each struggled to utter a first tender word. But what might be the first words to pass between a couple in love, when the blushing young wife returns with the sperm of another man in her panties? Well, somehow the deeply honed instinct of a loving husband provided the few tender words of assurance…
“Mindy,” I whispered… “Min my darling, I love you.”
And she burst into sudden tears. “Oh Tommy… Oh my God…” she sobbed.
One lock of blonde hair was hanging loosely across her forehead. Cupping her hot cheek and turning her face toward me, with one finger, I gently tucked the errant strands of soft golden hair behind her ear. In that meaningful moment, during those few seconds, we began staring silently into each other’s eyes, each wondering as to the other’s thoughts.
And what a strange sensation to stare at her pretty face, to look deep into the enigma of those tear-filled emerald green eyes and know that another man had just made love to her and at that very moment his live wiggling sperm was in her well-slickened vagina. Aware of my husbandly scrutiny, her tongue flicked uncertainly across her lower lip and I could see her lips a little puffy and slightly swollen. But she was back in my arms and for the moment I just needed to hold her warm body close to mine and feel her soft breathing. The events of the last hour had introduced an exciting new dynamic into our marriage… my shy wife had just finished fucking another man and we both felt an aura of emotion hovering over our heads.
“Are you okay?” I finally whispered.
“Mmm hum,” she murmured with her warm face pressed against my neck. A little remorseful now, she was still trying to avoid my eyes. I watched her trying to smooth the wrinkles out of her rumpled skirt. Then she turned away, fresh tears springing to her eyes, blindly reaching into her purse for a tissue. As she dried her eyes I noticed the slight whisker burn on the side of her neck.
“Did you…?” I whispered.
Of course I knew, but for some strange reason I just wanted the thrill of hearing her speak those exciting words, I wanted to feel that little acid lurch in my stomach at hearing her confess to fucking with Russ. I lifted her blushing face and we looked into each other’s eyes again. My hands were shaking as I waited for the obvious answer. She nodded shyly and looked away, probably remembering her shiver of anticipation as he pulled her panties down and moved between her knees. But suddenly she was weeping and I wondered if she had resisted and cried when he first pushed his cock into her. There was so much I wanted to know… so many words I wanted hear her say.
“Did you… was that a yes?” I whispered.
Her voice was anguished. “Mmmm… it was a… a yes.”
She breathed the words against my cheek… deep in my stomach, close to my groin something moved. Then salty warm tears found their way between our touching cheeks. I was touched by guilt for letting it happen just for a quick thrill and I whispered, “darling I love you… everything is fine, and we've both been waiting for this to happen.”
“Mmmm… I guess so… but oh God…”
Her breathing was still coming in little panting bursts and I realized they had just finished... that only minutes ago he had withdraw his softening slippery cock from between her legs. And for an inexperienced shy young wife like Mindy, it had been an on-her-back, long and very sensuous experience. She wiped a tear away with the back of her hand…
“But it was such a nasty naughty thing to do,” she murmured.
“But you did it, made love… all the way… and fucked…?” I asked softly in a non-accusatory whisper.
“Uh-huh… well, not at first, but we… well, we… yes we fucked…”
With her words spaced apart, it was a soft hesitant, almost apologetic murmur. So with her wedding band on her finger, my wife had fucked with another man; and now the words passed her lips with some difficulty. I felt the surge of raw feeling gnawing deeper in my bowels. Anguish… excitement… remorse, maybe a raw mix of who only knows what emotion.
The memory of sneaking upstairs and hearing the sound of the bed creaking surged through me. I remembered the sound, a distinct very steady thumping rhythm and matching soft gasping cries. And the sight of her hips wiggling under him will stay in my memory forever. But now I bit my lip and just held her close. So another guy just laid her, gotten his stiff prick into her and from what I saw she certainly loved it… but it’s not the end of the world I thought. But my guts were queasy from the emotional strain. I began to wish that I had seen all of it happen… seen it from the beginning. I remembered the candle light glimmering on her golden hair and white of her discarded panties and I began to wonder what she looked like with her ass bare and her skirt up at the moment Russ got between her spread knees, and how she must have cried out when it first went in. The part I had witnessed formed a lump in my stomach, but what I didn’t see, and could now only imagine, squeezed the lump into a tighter knot.
I held her in my arms feeling her elevated body temperature. Questions gnawed at me. “Did you just finish…?” I murmured against her soft hair.
“Mmm, just… just a few minutes ago.”
We kissed, both trembling with emotion. Her emotion, a mix of emerging shame and remorse… mine, raw unadulterated heart-pumping excitement. Her words were whirling through my mind reinforcing an indelible image of them fucking… his cock thrusting into my wife again and again while she made grunty little whimpers. I hugged her close, rubbing my hand up and down her warm back.
“I was nervous waiting for you,” I whispered.
“Oh Tommy, I'm sorry. It took him a long time… to finish…”
Through the thin dress I could feel the waistband of her panties and it was strangely exciting to know that she had let him pull her pants off… that she had fucked with him and just minutes ago had pulled up her panties and come back to me. Mindy’s lips were warm, a little puffy from kissing and lovemaking. “Oh honey, I’m sorry,” she whispered again. Her hot cheeks were flushed with rising shame and embarrassment.
I continued to stroke her back, murmuring little assurances. “It’s okay dear, I… I guess I wanted you to… to try it…”
Her breath was warm, panting against my ear. “Honey… just take me home now, take me home and make love to me… hurry darling… hurry.”
**********
To be continued in part (7)
B.W.B
By: Bertram W. Bronson
Part (6)
Tense minutes passed, Mindy had not returned. Next to me on the sofa there was still no pretty blonde head, just a disturbingly big empty seat and sadly the lingering warmth of female buttocks had long ago dissipated. I squirmed about, watching for her to appear across the room. It seemed an eternity, but the mind of a nervous man develops an illogical concept of eternity and so it seemed, as I sat transfixed in the endless grip of passing time.
I stared at the empty corridor waiting for the first glimpse of a disheveled blonde head. And when Russ finally brought my “well-used” little wife back to me I tried to act calm and unemotional, but my heart was in my mouth and my cock was still pressing against my pants. Suddenly, with down-cast eyes my little sweetheart was walking toward me. She was a little wobbly on her feet, barefooted and carrying her shoes. An image of her shoes and panties on the attic floor rushed into my mind and I felt like jumping to my feet and pulling her into the protection of my arms. But I sat frozen in place as she hurried to my side.
In a moment she was standing between my knees with a hot flush of shame on her cheeks. My arms clasped around her hips, drawing her warm stomach against my face. She dropped her shoes and I felt the reassuring comfort of her fingers curling into the hair on the back of my head. Without a sound, without a word, I just held her against my face, breathing in her warmth and the imagined scent of what she had just done.
Shy little Mindy had obviously been the recipient of a very thorough bed-creaking tumble; she was hot and rumpled, hair slightly mussed and her skirt wrinkled. As I knew it would, the sight of her rumpled state took my breath away. Mindy was blushing, her skin warm as she slipped next to me on the sofa and squeezed my hand. Why is it the heat and scent of sex lingers so long on the warm skin of a woman? A little ashamed, she slanted her eyes away.
We gripped hands, momentarily avoiding eye contact. It had been less than a half hour since another man slipped his softening penis from the clasp of my wife’s warm vagina and in the ensuing grip of emotion we each struggled to utter a first tender word. But what might be the first words to pass between a couple in love, when the blushing young wife returns with the sperm of another man in her panties? Well, somehow the deeply honed instinct of a loving husband provided the few tender words of assurance…
“Mindy,” I whispered… “Min my darling, I love you.”
And she burst into sudden tears. “Oh Tommy… Oh my God…” she sobbed.
One lock of blonde hair was hanging loosely across her forehead. Cupping her hot cheek and turning her face toward me, with one finger, I gently tucked the errant strands of soft golden hair behind her ear. In that meaningful moment, during those few seconds, we began staring silently into each other’s eyes, each wondering as to the other’s thoughts.
And what a strange sensation to stare at her pretty face, to look deep into the enigma of those tear-filled emerald green eyes and know that another man had just made love to her and at that very moment his live wiggling sperm was in her well-slickened vagina. Aware of my husbandly scrutiny, her tongue flicked uncertainly across her lower lip and I could see her lips a little puffy and slightly swollen. But she was back in my arms and for the moment I just needed to hold her warm body close to mine and feel her soft breathing. The events of the last hour had introduced an exciting new dynamic into our marriage… my shy wife had just finished fucking another man and we both felt an aura of emotion hovering over our heads.
“Are you okay?” I finally whispered.
“Mmm hum,” she murmured with her warm face pressed against my neck. A little remorseful now, she was still trying to avoid my eyes. I watched her trying to smooth the wrinkles out of her rumpled skirt. Then she turned away, fresh tears springing to her eyes, blindly reaching into her purse for a tissue. As she dried her eyes I noticed the slight whisker burn on the side of her neck.
“Did you…?” I whispered.
Of course I knew, but for some strange reason I just wanted the thrill of hearing her speak those exciting words, I wanted to feel that little acid lurch in my stomach at hearing her confess to fucking with Russ. I lifted her blushing face and we looked into each other’s eyes again. My hands were shaking as I waited for the obvious answer. She nodded shyly and looked away, probably remembering her shiver of anticipation as he pulled her panties down and moved between her knees. But suddenly she was weeping and I wondered if she had resisted and cried when he first pushed his cock into her. There was so much I wanted to know… so many words I wanted hear her say.
“Did you… was that a yes?” I whispered.
Her voice was anguished. “Mmmm… it was a… a yes.”
She breathed the words against my cheek… deep in my stomach, close to my groin something moved. Then salty warm tears found their way between our touching cheeks. I was touched by guilt for letting it happen just for a quick thrill and I whispered, “darling I love you… everything is fine, and we've both been waiting for this to happen.”
“Mmmm… I guess so… but oh God…”
Her breathing was still coming in little panting bursts and I realized they had just finished... that only minutes ago he had withdraw his softening slippery cock from between her legs. And for an inexperienced shy young wife like Mindy, it had been an on-her-back, long and very sensuous experience. She wiped a tear away with the back of her hand…
“But it was such a nasty naughty thing to do,” she murmured.
“But you did it, made love… all the way… and fucked…?” I asked softly in a non-accusatory whisper.
“Uh-huh… well, not at first, but we… well, we… yes we fucked…”
With her words spaced apart, it was a soft hesitant, almost apologetic murmur. So with her wedding band on her finger, my wife had fucked with another man; and now the words passed her lips with some difficulty. I felt the surge of raw feeling gnawing deeper in my bowels. Anguish… excitement… remorse, maybe a raw mix of who only knows what emotion.
The memory of sneaking upstairs and hearing the sound of the bed creaking surged through me. I remembered the sound, a distinct very steady thumping rhythm and matching soft gasping cries. And the sight of her hips wiggling under him will stay in my memory forever. But now I bit my lip and just held her close. So another guy just laid her, gotten his stiff prick into her and from what I saw she certainly loved it… but it’s not the end of the world I thought. But my guts were queasy from the emotional strain. I began to wish that I had seen all of it happen… seen it from the beginning. I remembered the candle light glimmering on her golden hair and white of her discarded panties and I began to wonder what she looked like with her ass bare and her skirt up at the moment Russ got between her spread knees, and how she must have cried out when it first went in. The part I had witnessed formed a lump in my stomach, but what I didn’t see, and could now only imagine, squeezed the lump into a tighter knot.
I held her in my arms feeling her elevated body temperature. Questions gnawed at me. “Did you just finish…?” I murmured against her soft hair.
“Mmm, just… just a few minutes ago.”
We kissed, both trembling with emotion. Her emotion, a mix of emerging shame and remorse… mine, raw unadulterated heart-pumping excitement. Her words were whirling through my mind reinforcing an indelible image of them fucking… his cock thrusting into my wife again and again while she made grunty little whimpers. I hugged her close, rubbing my hand up and down her warm back.
“I was nervous waiting for you,” I whispered.
“Oh Tommy, I'm sorry. It took him a long time… to finish…”
Through the thin dress I could feel the waistband of her panties and it was strangely exciting to know that she had let him pull her pants off… that she had fucked with him and just minutes ago had pulled up her panties and come back to me. Mindy’s lips were warm, a little puffy from kissing and lovemaking. “Oh honey, I’m sorry,” she whispered again. Her hot cheeks were flushed with rising shame and embarrassment.
I continued to stroke her back, murmuring little assurances. “It’s okay dear, I… I guess I wanted you to… to try it…”
Her breath was warm, panting against my ear. “Honey… just take me home now, take me home and make love to me… hurry darling… hurry.”
**********
To be continued in part (7)
B.W.B
