' The Wife Watcher’s Party ' … (Part 2)
Posted: Tue Sep 30, 2008 2:40 pm
“The Wife Watcher’s Party”
By: Bertram W. Bronson
Chapter 2 … (Ohh my God… why did I ever start this?)
That hot Saturday night in Monterey, something near magical brought it all together. After all the hot-wife fantasies, the naughty bedtime whispers… after all the times I stared down into her big blue eyes and we whispered imagined scenarios of other men… in one or two tense hours, it was done.
So on the night of the party the persistent imagery of my wife with another man was lurking about in some devious part of my mind, but thinking back, that impetuous crossing of the line occurred at the very moment I noticed this one particular guy.
Among the select crowd of young, very classy couples, he was not the ordinary man, he stood out from the other young guys… a few years older, ruggedly handsome and he seemed to radiate an air of health and calm self-assurance. And I wondered about that Roadrunner guy… he’s the one e-mailed that party invitation, so likely he’s here, mingling somewhere within the crowd. Could this handsome, slightly older man be the mysterious Roadrunner?
And the whole crowd seemed to be a mixed group of very sophisticated marrieds. The lovely wives were a delight to the eyes, wedding bands and diamonds glittered on the smoothly manicured fingers of nearly every female left hand. And I saw two familiar faces… very pretty female faces that I recognized, but couldn't quite place.
But other thoughts, little nagging thoughts of my own innocent wife trampled through my mind. The very attractive couples were loose and friendly, mingling, dancing close and touching each other’s wives. And we were so far away from our little home town… would this be the time… the time to let it happen?
As this ruggedly handsome older guy passed among the party goers, I noticed female heads turning his way, subtle glances as they tried to catch his eye. And I couldn't help but think of him with my wife, but conflicting notions swirled through my mind… and I felt the twisty rush of excitement, yet all the concerns and worries.
But still, I reasoned, if my bashful Wendy finally has sex with another man… no one in our small town would ever know. And what if my blushing wife does arrive home with her tender vagina still wet with the sperm of a strong handsome man? Well… no one will know, that only hours ago, another man had been between her legs, or suspect that her cotton panties are still warm and damp from the residue of his lovemaking.
So back home no one will know, not family, not friends… it will be our secret… We would un-pack and with a blush on her pretty face she’d toss her sperm soiled panties into the laundry basket… but not the memories, those memories would live forever as the realization of our bedtime fantasy…
As I thought about this, our bedtime whispers crept into my mind, imagery of my young wife squirming in the middle of our bed, a young clean-cut guy tossing up her nightie… getting her legs apart… getting the head of a long stiffened cock into her… his strong back arching, then a single quick deep thrust. Their pubic hairs meshing, her heels pinning back, her toes curling under, hearing her grunt and knowing… his cock was in her sleek vagina… totally in.
On the night of the party, these fantasy images were squirming around in my belly… and they didn’t want to leave. So I continued watching, taking the measure of this one outstanding guy and finally made a casual inquiry with Marilyn, our lovely hostess. The cliff top mansion perched high above the rocky shoreline and out on the patio, I could see Marilyn. I waited my chance and eased next to her. It was quieter out there under the starry sky. Marilyn was not only lovely, but friendly and easy to talk to…
Finally, I nodded very casually toward the open door and murmured, “Marilyn, who’s the tall guy… the one leaning against the bar?”
She glanced through the open French doorway. “Oh, he's an old friend, a really nice guy. Would you like to meet him?”
“Uh, well I just thought my wife might enjoy talking with him. My wife Wendy, well she’s… just a little shy around men.”
I spoke guardedly at first, but gradually our thoughts converged and her intuitive questions and my answers became more pointed. Surprisingly Marilyn seemed to keep steering the conversation back to my wife and my interest in this tall handsome guy and I could see a twinkle in her eyes and a bit of intrigue.
Eventually, Marilyn slipped her hand into mine, and almost like lovers, we leaned against the wrought iron railing, looking far out across the moonlit bay. Immediately I was drawn to Marilyn. From time-to-time, I could feel her warm hip pressing against mine and we talked casually for a long while. “When I was in the seventh grade,” I murmured, “I was madly in love with a sweet little girl who broke my heart. All the boys were fascinated with her. We called her “Mare” and some days she wore her hair in pigtails and the name ‘Marilyn’ was embroidered in a little pink scroll across the front of her white tee shirts.”
“Oh how sweet and just a little sad, you must think of your special Marilyn from time-to-time,” she whispered. “Uh-huh, time passes and sometimes I wonder how she is and if I'll ever get to see Mare.” Across the dark horizon, the night seemed almost magical and we continued whispering softly over the hiss of surf against the rocky shoreline…
“So Brad,” she murmured. “It seems you've been mentally toying with thoughts of sharing your wife with another guy… in fact, thinking about it rather seriously.”
“Uh-huh.” My eyes drifted away… “I'm a little embarrassed about it, but just the thought of it takes my breath away and it’s a strange fantasy that sort of grew over time. I just wanted to try it… maybe just one time.”
For a moment only silence… staring upward, lost in thought, my eyes idly followed a meteor as it streaked across the dark sky. As the silver streak of fire vaporized into celestial dust, Marilyn gave my hand a little ‘attention getting’ squeeze, and my eyes drifted back from across the bay and into hers.
“Beware Brad, the thrill of wife watching is very contagious and it can open a floodgate of emotions,” she whispered. “And it’s not likely to stop with only one time.” And as if to impart the message, her warm wiggling fingers twined more tightly with mine. Behind Marilyn’s mystical eyes, a deep omniscience seemed to hover and her fixated gaze seemed to be reading my thoughts and seeing into my very soul.
“Once you've watched it happen,” she whispered. “Seen your shy little darling with her toes wiggling over another man’s back and sweet Wendy has felt the thrill of another man… the deep thrust of his stiffened penis… well Brad, it’s likely you'll both enjoy the thrill of letting another man have your wife from time-to-time…”
“Mmmm, I've wondered about that… about my wife wanting to do it again and I suppose the memories keep floating back into your minds.”
“That’ll happen a lot Brad and usually at bedtime. Imbedded in your subconscious, the memories hover just beneath the surface, just waiting to creep back into your awareness. Little things will jog your memory, maybe a distant look in Wendy’s eyes as she stands next to your bed and unzips her dress, or the sight of her panties left on the bathroom floor, you pick them up and find a little sticky wetness in the crotch and the memories of this night may all flood back. When you make love, even the sound of the bed creaking or a particular gasp or whimper can bring it all back.”
“Yeah, after another man has his wife, well I suppose a husband never gets over the squirmy feelings and the memories,” I mumbled. “And a while back, Googling, I stumbled onto a hot-wife web site, a fellow call’s himself Inigo has it… seems to be a sincere down-to-earth guy. And it’s thoughtfully monitored… no whackos and crazies, just a lot of really nice people posting wife-sharing messages.”
“Mmmm hmm… I know that web site very well,” she smiled with that same mysterious twinkle in her eyes.
“So we've been chatting on-line,” I said. “We found a really nice farming couple over in Minnesota, shared intimate thoughts with another married couple in Manchester England and then two or three guys… an’ I don't know why, but that hot-wife intrigue just kept growing in our minds. So just for the thrill of writing, I posted a few stories, all that crazy stuff that pops into my head… and then one day I got this… this rather cryptic party invitation.”
Suddenly, the mood shifted. Her voice softened and she looked intently into my eyes, “Brad, listen carefully to what I'm going to tell you now. You and your wife have been accepted into a very exclusive inner circle of people… that’s why you're now on the permanent guest list. Have you figured out where that invitation came from, how you and Wendy were chosen to be invited here tonight?”
“Uh… no, I've been kinda puzzled about this whole crazy thing.”
Marilyn clasped my hand a little more firmly. “Well Brad, tonight you may learn many secrets and one is… that exclusive invitation… well, it came from a group of friends who inhabit that web site and some of them are here tonight.”
“Oh my God… I didn’t know,” I mumbled in confusion. “It came from a name I didn’t recognize… something strange like Roadrunner. And the invitation just appeared in my e-mail box, and the next day it was gone… just mysteriously disappeared.”
“Mmm hum,” my hostess whispered… “Well connected, very important people caused that e-mail to just discreetly disappear. A few minutes after you opened it, an embedded computer code programmed that e-mail to self-destruct. That’s the way of this party group, powerful, very influential men and complete security and confidentiality. And later you'll lean why our secrets must never leave the secure walls of this mansion.”
That sounded so strange, a little intimidating and my mind went into a spin. I tried to remember some of the names and the messages on the web site… some of the intriguing hot-wife issues and Marilyn stood there watching my reaction.
“Well anyway Brad, about tonight, the man you've asked about, his name is Marc.” She now studied my eyes with an amused look on her face, “he’s a high-level executive over at Pebble. So you think your wife would like to meet him… and perhaps…?”
“Yes… I'm, well, pretty sure.”
“Mmm,” she murmured, “it might be fun. Likely he's already noticed your beautiful wife, but I'll point her out to Marc and later… I'll introduce them, and we'll see what we can work out. And Brad… ah… one more thing…”
“Yes, Marilyn?”
“Well Brad, don't feel so embarrassed, you're certainly not alone with that particular wife fantasy… watching your wife making love with another man is a common fantasy and later, well it seems you've been recommended and cleared by the big Boofer and several other well-connected people, so there’s a little party secret I can share with you… actually, a rather big secret.”
My lovely hostess eased her hand up around the back of my neck and lifted her pretty face… slightly parted lips, warm and moist, pressed mine. I felt the tiny flick of Marilyn’s warm pointy tongue and then she smiled at me, a mysterious teasing smile and disappeared back into the crowd. I was a little confused about those strange names, the mysterious invitation and perplexed about the little secret…
What secret? I wondered… what in hell could it be?
But I continued to take note of Marc mingling with the sophisticated crowd, an immaculately dressed, clean-cut guy, the quintessential young executive, tall, well mannered and self-assured. Mingling casually, he seemed to be well respected and not the pushy type. I paid particular attention as he interacted with some of the women, a gentle hand squeeze in passing… a word or two spoken with respect. As I strolled around in the crowd, I could feel that curious intrigue creeping deeper into my stomach… he’d be the perfect match for my shy lovely wife, the perfect bed partner for her first time. I began to wonder how it would feel to offer my wife to him, watch him take her from me… lead her off to some secluded part of the house.
A little weak feeling crept into my stomach. My God… I thought, do I dare go ahead with this… dare to ease my shy wife into Marc’s presence, just give this crazy hot-wife fantasy a little nudge and maybe guide it up to the next bend in the bumpy road?
By the time I saw my pretty hostess smiling at me from across the room, the heavy boots of curiosity had stomped all over the squirmy little doubts. Marilyn moved next to me, unnoticed, we slipped back out onto the patio. “Did you talk to Marc about… meeting my wife… and…”
“Uh-huh,” she whispered. “He'd already noticed your beautiful wife and he's infatuated with the idea of… of having her. I told him it’s Wendy's first time and he's utterly intrigued.”
Someone had swung the double doors wide open to the night air. Glancing back inside I could see this extremely handsome guy standing across the room, his dark eyes unobtrusively watching my wife and a few of the ‘stomped upon’ doubts sprung back to life. Marilyn sensed me squirming; she could see the emotional trauma, the indecision creeping up into my eyes.
“Be sure Brad… Marc would be the perfect guy to make love with your innocent Wendy, but it’s a big step and if we start this… well, after a certain point it might be hard to stop it.”
Nerves crawling, my stomach in a knot, I found myself staring up at the blackness of a Monterey sky, it shimmered with zillions of stars and I thought… “Now… grasp the opportunity now, give Wendy to another man or it will stay a fantasy forever…”
And I rationalized… at home in bed, she trembles when we talk about it, so somewhere deep inside, Wendy wants to let this happen. Eyes fixated upon the heavens, I made the decision. “Let’s go ahead Marilyn,” I murmured. “Get my wife off to one side and casually introduce her to Marc… let’s see how it goes, see if Wendy even likes him.”
“Brad, be honest with yourself… women find Marc irresistible, so your wife is definitely going to ‘like’ him… and Brad, it’s very unlikely she’ll be able to resist the temptation to…”
“Yeah, I know… I know,” mumbled.
The deed done, it was a moment in time I'll always remember and I just stood there, out under the star filled sky and let the guilt wash through my nervous stomach. But deep in my heart, I knew it was a very special gift from a caring husband to a wife he deeply loves. It’s a gift that’s been given to so many sweet wives, by so many loving husbands. His innocent wife’s first act of uninhibited sex with another man, the husband's acceptance of his wife's cries and moans, the acceptance of another man’s sperm left within slippery warmth of his wife's loins… yes, it’s a gift that has no parallel…
So this was to be my gift to Wendy, a night for my shy wife to slip nakedly into bed with another man and explore the fantasies that lurked in both our minds.
And only minutes later, I watched anxiously as Marilyn, my hostess… and now my co-conspirator drew them together. And so it happened… and like so many of the impulsive things that change our lives, it was so simple… so quickly done… and only hours later, so utterly undoable…
With that intriguing twinkle in her eyes, my lovely hostess made the introduction. “Wendy this is Marc, an exec over at Pebble. He’s a bit of a scoundrel, but still… well, a good and trusted friend. Marc this is Wendy, a lovely out-of-town visitor so you must be especially nice to her.”
In a millisecond his eyes took inventory of my lovely blushing wife, she stood tall in her heels, a long legged little blonde angel. His eyes darted from her long shimmering hair, down to trim shapely ankles and quickly back to settle into the depth of eyes as clear blue as melting arctic ice.
Standing next to the open doorway, I pretended not to notice, but I watched him reach out to my Wendy; she dutifully placed her soft hand in his for the obligatory social squeeze. Their eyes seemed to lock. As he clasped her hand, my pretty wife gave him one of those girlish shy glances and lowered her lovely blue eyes. But the immediate attraction was evident and clearly mutual. I heard him murmur, almost under his breath…
“Oh my, what a lovely visitor we have.”
“Now Marc,” the hostess teased. “You mind your manners now… Wendy is a married lady!”
It was just another quick downward flash of his eyes, now at her left hand… taking note of the little band of gold. But wedding ring aside, moments later, he led my wife to a sofa at the quieter side of the room. Unabashedly his eyes roamed over Wendy’s long-legged natural beauty, her full sensuous lips with just the hint of a dimple on her pretty chin and my wife's shy smile revealed those perfect pearly white teeth. I saw him whisper something and lightly stroke the straw-blonde hair that hung down her back like a shimmering wave of spun gold.
In the following hour they talked in low tones, sitting close, they shared a drink or two. Eventually sipping from the same wine glass as he leaned close whispering things in her ear… things that caused Wendy to flutter her lashes and blush. Ever prim and proper, my wife sat with her knees clasped and her short skirt carefully smoothed, but from time-to-time her lake-blue eyes gazed up into his with a dreamy look and for multi-second intervals their eyes would lock in some shared fascination.
It began to gnaw at me… the sight of Wendy’s little pink tongue, licking a speck of wine from her lower lip, while looking up into his dark eyes. Having seen it many times, I knew the meaning of that dreamy gaze in her moist eyes, that subconscious licking of her lower lip, those quivery exhalations of breath that seem to whisper, “take me… take me to bed…….”
Feeling a little nervous guilt, I remained outside the open doorway, talking with other people while pretending not to notice their ever increasing interest in each other. Sneaking quick glances, I caught the very moment his hand breached that socially acceptable space between their bodies. He shifted slightly and palm up, his hand settled very casually onto her lap. Midway above her knee, close to her crotch and separated only by the thin material of her skirt… the back of his hand lay resting on my wife's warm thigh…
Hypnotically, he stared deep into the misty depth of Wendy’s blue eyes, impelling her to reach for his straying hand. Her long dark eyelashes fluttered nervously as he willed my timid wife to entwine her married fingers with his. I felt the tension building… her warmly parted lips were close to his and if she reaches for his hand, he may lean closer and try to kiss her lips.
It was a telling moment… acceptance or rejection?
I held my breath. Several seconds passed. In utter suspense, I watched the slow seduction of my wife moving ahead, one gentle step at a time. Feeling the weight of his hand on her thigh, Wendy was hesitant, but soon her warm fingertips inched their way onto his palm and she met his eyes with a long languid gaze. Leaning close, he whispered something in her ear and her hesitant fingers eased deeper onto his palm. Bit by bit he was gaining her confidence and when his fingers squeezed my wife's hand in a warm tender grip, I felt something grip my thumping heart.
Heads now close, they were murmuring softly as he dallied with Wendy’s long slender fingers. Marc was pressing her fingers in a gentle coital rhythm, those rhythmic touches that send subliminal messages to a woman’s mind. And as if in anticipation of what was to come, his fingers idly toyed with her diamond ring and its matching wedding band.
And what was to come? Perhaps nothing but the teasing touches of another man’s fingers, his whispery intimations. Perhaps only a hotly flushed face and a well moistened panty crotch, but I could feel my nerves growing ever tighter as the other possibility loomed.
Yes the other nerve tingling possibility… that of my sweet wife Wendy submitting sexually to another man, being tipped onto her back, her rumpled skirt shucked up to her waist while her arms coil warmly around his neck. It was our long held fantasy, whispered in bed, ohh so many times…
“Sweetie, will you lift your behind so he can pull down your panties?”
“Ohhh yes darling… I will… I will…”
“And you'll let him get between your legs?”
“Mmm humm… and… and I'll spread my knees… wide apart… so he can…”
“So he can slip his big penis in… deep inside…”
“Yes… ohhh yes… I want him to…”
Our bedtime whispers, she quivers with excitement as we talk, but will she really let it happen? Soon Marc may ask and if her searching eyes find mine and I see a glint of anticipation and hotly flushed cheeks will I force a smile and nod my head… just see him take my wife's trembling hand and walk her away?
With my eyes squeezed shut I could already see my wife under him, her long shapely legs sprawled… her back arched into a bow… the first quick thrust of his cock… her pretty head tipping back in a soundless scream. And then, as I stand trembling by the side of the bed… he fucks her… firmly, decisively, he fucks her…
I felt the rushing of my blood, a pulsing in my ears. My god…. what a shivery feeling…
Unobtrusively I hovered out in the shadows and watched my wife succumbing to his advances. As he leaned close to whisper in her ear, his lips brushed a feathery path across her flushed cheek. I saw his hand slip between the sofa cushion and the nearest cheek of her plump round ass. There was a little telltale squirming of her buttocks against the sofa seat, little shivers and a hot flush of nervous excitement colored her cheeks. Her facial expressions, her body language and the breathy tone of her voice… all a familiar prelude to making love and I knew… if it happened, it would be a sensual and never forgotten experience in our marriage.
Suddenly he stood, reached down for Wendy’s hand and quickly lifted my adorable little darling to her feet. It happened in an instant and if hearts could really leap, mine would have been in my throat. They stood for a suspenseful moment, hands clasped, sharing whispers. My pulse quickened at the thought of them leaving the room, but I watched as he led my wife onto the crowded dance floor. He wanted to touch her… clearly she wanted to be touched and the dancing allowed him to take my wife into his arms, to hold her close and press against her up-thrusting breasts.
************
While unnoticed in shadows, my eyes now fixated on the shifting group of dancers just inside the open French doorway. My wife was somewhere in that swirl of bodies, dancing, held in the strong arms of another man and I listened to the laughter and romantic music drifting out into the star-studded night.
Through the mingling crowd, I was catching glimpses of my lovely wife, but from time-to-time losing sight of Wendy’s glimmering blonde head. I craned my neck trying to keep track of her amongst the twisting swirling bodies. An unsettling image of the waiting bed lurked in my mind and each time she disappeared, my weak stomach did little flip-flops until I spotted her again. Tall and handsome, he was holding my shy wife against his strong chest. Wendy’s pretty head now rested on his broad shoulder, his lips just brushing across her glossy hair, his every breath taking in her warm womanly scent.
With her full shapely breasts nestled firmly against his chest, her slender fingers toyed with the dark hair at the back of his strong neck. And as if my lovely wife were his to hold and touch, Marc held Wendy securely against his groin, breathing in her sweet scent… feeling the female warmth of her young body in his arms. Seemingly fused at the hips, clinging as though molded into a single body, they moved to the music. His hand caressed her back, from time-to-time lingering on the upper curve of her delightful rump.
I watched Wendy’s stomach snuggled against his… undulating against his… mere fabric separating his thickening penis from the fluid warmth of my wife's loins. It surged through me; the sordid thought… of his swelling penis pressing upward, now just against my wife's covered stomach… but later, perhaps deep into the slippery warmth of her bare belly. Ohhh this could really happen… Ohhh God it might really happen…
And may the Gods forgive me; squirming with guilt, I just sat by and watched the slow seduction of my bashful young wife. But never in my life, had I ever experienced such raw excitement. It tugged at me, the shivery excitement and anticipation. But they blended with fluttering waves of fear… they’ll make love and he’ll leave his sperm in the belly of my young wife and the emotional mix swirled around in my head, finally settling into the pit of my queasy stomach. Throw in an ounce or two of newly discovered jealousy and suddenly I was twisting nervously in my seat… my eyes boring through the crowd, waiting… watching her…
With the French doors open to the drifting eddies of warm salt air, someone at the far side of the room slowly dimmed the lighting and as the dance floor eased into still deeper shadow, lovely flush-faced wives were being passed from hubby’s arms into the waiting arms of other men. With over the shoulder glances, with fleeting meetings of the eyes, pretty wives were being quickly swept away by other men. And far below the high cliff, as ocean currents rolled over the rocky shoreline in a rhythmic wash of foamy waves, the crowd became an anonymous gathering of warm shifting bodies… the muggy night air, now heavy with the undulating togetherness of soft breasts and warm loins.
And my eyes strained to see as his hand slipped lower, his cupped fingers now loitering near the deep crack between the cheeks of my wife's curvy backside. At the touch of Marc’s impudent fingers, a dazzling blonde head slowly lifted from his shoulder, with parted lips Wendy’s pretty face turned up… and my hands clenched into tight fists. Misty blue eyes gazed up into his… she drew a deep breath and suddenly my wife's warm lips were only inches from his…
“Oh my God,” I groaned aloud… “Why did I start this…?”
**********
So why had I started such a thing… On what crazy impulse did I create this bizarre situation, all the while knowing this night would likely end with my little sweetheart’s seduction… turned nakedly onto her back, with another man between her spread knees? And knowing the coming of dawn might cast its first light upon a stained and wrinkled bed sheet… her married innocence reduced to a few curly blonde pubic hairs lost amidst the sordid smears of female fluids and drying sperm.
I don't know why… Perhaps long ago some devilish force planted the preposterous idea in my head and awaiting this crazy night, it just festered there.
We married young; no other guy had ever gone all the way with her. I suppose that may have caused the initial curiosity… wondering how my innocent wife would react to another guy between her legs… how I might feel as the act took place. Perhaps letting it happen on our marriage bed… watching the first deep hunch of his back and seeing the expression on her hot face… seeing her blue eyes go wide and then slowly close.
When we first married, my shy bride would spread her knees with a flaming blush on her pretty face, but she learned to love it, she began to crave the feeling of a stiffened penis thrusting into the warm slipperiness of her loins. When we made love, I'd see Wendy’s eyelids flutter, I'd feel the little trembles of her multiple orgasms and I'd wonder what thoughts might be lurking behind those tightly squeezed eyes… I'd hear the gasps and whimpers and wonder what images, what fantasies does she see on the insides of those closed eyelids?
She’d lay, arms sprawled, her sweaty belly quivering until the numbing shudders of her orgasm gradually faded. After a while, her eyes would open, fluttering lashes and just moist little slits at first, then wide open big blue eyes, staring up at me in wonder at the belly-quivering thrills her young body had grown to crave.
“Oh darling,” she’d murmur… “Can we do it again… a little more… ohhh, just a little more?” And I'd look down into my wife's misty blue eyes and wonder what urges might lie hidden down in that misty void, way down in the secret depths of that curious mind.
And like all young couples, we talked in bed… so I probed a bit, just curiosity at first, then gradually, came the intrigue of delving into her naïve little mind. Months passed, sharing whispered secrets in the sanctity of our bed, our bond grew ever deeper. One night, with the bed lamp dimmed and semi-darkness hiding her flushed face, my bashful wife confessed to a lot of teen-girl masturbation.
“But don’t you still?” I asked. Her pretty face flushed; she covered her eyes with the back of her hand. Her lips parted, little pink tongue flashed across her lower lip, but she didn’t speak.
“Sweetheart… you can tell me.”
“Well, just sometimes,” she murmured… “Well, like when you're at work and I feel… ah, a little tense…”
“With your finger?”
“Mmmm.”
So I logged onto “Jt’s Stockroom” web site and bought the shy little darling a couple of toys, a vibrator and a latex rubber penis. It took a while, but in bed together, she began to use them while I watched and gradually we began to play those little pretend games. With extra lubricant, the rubber penis made wet squishy sounds and it was so easy to pretend… to imagine. Heads close on a pillow, we whispered about other couples… and particularly, the tingling fantasy of another man. Then one night, while Wendy lay back with her big blue eyes squeezed shut and her bent knees spread, I parted the curly wisps of hair with my fingers and slipped the life-size rubber penis into the pink warmth of her slickened vagina.
“Sweetheart, do you feel him… do you feel his penis in you?” When I stroked it, she sucked in a quick breath and her belly muscles clenched. And as she listened to the squishy wet sound, I whispered very softly…
“Wen… do you ever wonder… ever think about how it would really feel with another guy, have another man’s warm stiff penis in you?”
In a weak struggling voice she murmured. “Mmmm… at times I wonder… I… I mean what it would be like to…” Her voice trailed off.
But I probed a little deeper. “When you play with the toys… alone, and pretend?”
“Mmmm,” she blushed.
“You pretend it’s a real penis… another guy’s penis?”
“Mmmm, sometimes…” she blushed deeper and turned her eyes away.
So it went on from there, playing with the fantasy, the fertile seed of intrigue sprouting and growing in that devious place in my mind. And if that party invitation had never arrived, well, I suppose none of what follows would have ever happened….
*********
To be continued in (Chapter 3)
B.W.B.
By: Bertram W. Bronson
Chapter 2 … (Ohh my God… why did I ever start this?)
That hot Saturday night in Monterey, something near magical brought it all together. After all the hot-wife fantasies, the naughty bedtime whispers… after all the times I stared down into her big blue eyes and we whispered imagined scenarios of other men… in one or two tense hours, it was done.
So on the night of the party the persistent imagery of my wife with another man was lurking about in some devious part of my mind, but thinking back, that impetuous crossing of the line occurred at the very moment I noticed this one particular guy.
Among the select crowd of young, very classy couples, he was not the ordinary man, he stood out from the other young guys… a few years older, ruggedly handsome and he seemed to radiate an air of health and calm self-assurance. And I wondered about that Roadrunner guy… he’s the one e-mailed that party invitation, so likely he’s here, mingling somewhere within the crowd. Could this handsome, slightly older man be the mysterious Roadrunner?
And the whole crowd seemed to be a mixed group of very sophisticated marrieds. The lovely wives were a delight to the eyes, wedding bands and diamonds glittered on the smoothly manicured fingers of nearly every female left hand. And I saw two familiar faces… very pretty female faces that I recognized, but couldn't quite place.
But other thoughts, little nagging thoughts of my own innocent wife trampled through my mind. The very attractive couples were loose and friendly, mingling, dancing close and touching each other’s wives. And we were so far away from our little home town… would this be the time… the time to let it happen?
As this ruggedly handsome older guy passed among the party goers, I noticed female heads turning his way, subtle glances as they tried to catch his eye. And I couldn't help but think of him with my wife, but conflicting notions swirled through my mind… and I felt the twisty rush of excitement, yet all the concerns and worries.
But still, I reasoned, if my bashful Wendy finally has sex with another man… no one in our small town would ever know. And what if my blushing wife does arrive home with her tender vagina still wet with the sperm of a strong handsome man? Well… no one will know, that only hours ago, another man had been between her legs, or suspect that her cotton panties are still warm and damp from the residue of his lovemaking.
So back home no one will know, not family, not friends… it will be our secret… We would un-pack and with a blush on her pretty face she’d toss her sperm soiled panties into the laundry basket… but not the memories, those memories would live forever as the realization of our bedtime fantasy…
As I thought about this, our bedtime whispers crept into my mind, imagery of my young wife squirming in the middle of our bed, a young clean-cut guy tossing up her nightie… getting her legs apart… getting the head of a long stiffened cock into her… his strong back arching, then a single quick deep thrust. Their pubic hairs meshing, her heels pinning back, her toes curling under, hearing her grunt and knowing… his cock was in her sleek vagina… totally in.
On the night of the party, these fantasy images were squirming around in my belly… and they didn’t want to leave. So I continued watching, taking the measure of this one outstanding guy and finally made a casual inquiry with Marilyn, our lovely hostess. The cliff top mansion perched high above the rocky shoreline and out on the patio, I could see Marilyn. I waited my chance and eased next to her. It was quieter out there under the starry sky. Marilyn was not only lovely, but friendly and easy to talk to…
Finally, I nodded very casually toward the open door and murmured, “Marilyn, who’s the tall guy… the one leaning against the bar?”
She glanced through the open French doorway. “Oh, he's an old friend, a really nice guy. Would you like to meet him?”
“Uh, well I just thought my wife might enjoy talking with him. My wife Wendy, well she’s… just a little shy around men.”
I spoke guardedly at first, but gradually our thoughts converged and her intuitive questions and my answers became more pointed. Surprisingly Marilyn seemed to keep steering the conversation back to my wife and my interest in this tall handsome guy and I could see a twinkle in her eyes and a bit of intrigue.
Eventually, Marilyn slipped her hand into mine, and almost like lovers, we leaned against the wrought iron railing, looking far out across the moonlit bay. Immediately I was drawn to Marilyn. From time-to-time, I could feel her warm hip pressing against mine and we talked casually for a long while. “When I was in the seventh grade,” I murmured, “I was madly in love with a sweet little girl who broke my heart. All the boys were fascinated with her. We called her “Mare” and some days she wore her hair in pigtails and the name ‘Marilyn’ was embroidered in a little pink scroll across the front of her white tee shirts.”
“Oh how sweet and just a little sad, you must think of your special Marilyn from time-to-time,” she whispered. “Uh-huh, time passes and sometimes I wonder how she is and if I'll ever get to see Mare.” Across the dark horizon, the night seemed almost magical and we continued whispering softly over the hiss of surf against the rocky shoreline…
“So Brad,” she murmured. “It seems you've been mentally toying with thoughts of sharing your wife with another guy… in fact, thinking about it rather seriously.”
“Uh-huh.” My eyes drifted away… “I'm a little embarrassed about it, but just the thought of it takes my breath away and it’s a strange fantasy that sort of grew over time. I just wanted to try it… maybe just one time.”
For a moment only silence… staring upward, lost in thought, my eyes idly followed a meteor as it streaked across the dark sky. As the silver streak of fire vaporized into celestial dust, Marilyn gave my hand a little ‘attention getting’ squeeze, and my eyes drifted back from across the bay and into hers.
“Beware Brad, the thrill of wife watching is very contagious and it can open a floodgate of emotions,” she whispered. “And it’s not likely to stop with only one time.” And as if to impart the message, her warm wiggling fingers twined more tightly with mine. Behind Marilyn’s mystical eyes, a deep omniscience seemed to hover and her fixated gaze seemed to be reading my thoughts and seeing into my very soul.
“Once you've watched it happen,” she whispered. “Seen your shy little darling with her toes wiggling over another man’s back and sweet Wendy has felt the thrill of another man… the deep thrust of his stiffened penis… well Brad, it’s likely you'll both enjoy the thrill of letting another man have your wife from time-to-time…”
“Mmmm, I've wondered about that… about my wife wanting to do it again and I suppose the memories keep floating back into your minds.”
“That’ll happen a lot Brad and usually at bedtime. Imbedded in your subconscious, the memories hover just beneath the surface, just waiting to creep back into your awareness. Little things will jog your memory, maybe a distant look in Wendy’s eyes as she stands next to your bed and unzips her dress, or the sight of her panties left on the bathroom floor, you pick them up and find a little sticky wetness in the crotch and the memories of this night may all flood back. When you make love, even the sound of the bed creaking or a particular gasp or whimper can bring it all back.”
“Yeah, after another man has his wife, well I suppose a husband never gets over the squirmy feelings and the memories,” I mumbled. “And a while back, Googling, I stumbled onto a hot-wife web site, a fellow call’s himself Inigo has it… seems to be a sincere down-to-earth guy. And it’s thoughtfully monitored… no whackos and crazies, just a lot of really nice people posting wife-sharing messages.”
“Mmmm hmm… I know that web site very well,” she smiled with that same mysterious twinkle in her eyes.
“So we've been chatting on-line,” I said. “We found a really nice farming couple over in Minnesota, shared intimate thoughts with another married couple in Manchester England and then two or three guys… an’ I don't know why, but that hot-wife intrigue just kept growing in our minds. So just for the thrill of writing, I posted a few stories, all that crazy stuff that pops into my head… and then one day I got this… this rather cryptic party invitation.”
Suddenly, the mood shifted. Her voice softened and she looked intently into my eyes, “Brad, listen carefully to what I'm going to tell you now. You and your wife have been accepted into a very exclusive inner circle of people… that’s why you're now on the permanent guest list. Have you figured out where that invitation came from, how you and Wendy were chosen to be invited here tonight?”
“Uh… no, I've been kinda puzzled about this whole crazy thing.”
Marilyn clasped my hand a little more firmly. “Well Brad, tonight you may learn many secrets and one is… that exclusive invitation… well, it came from a group of friends who inhabit that web site and some of them are here tonight.”
“Oh my God… I didn’t know,” I mumbled in confusion. “It came from a name I didn’t recognize… something strange like Roadrunner. And the invitation just appeared in my e-mail box, and the next day it was gone… just mysteriously disappeared.”
“Mmm hum,” my hostess whispered… “Well connected, very important people caused that e-mail to just discreetly disappear. A few minutes after you opened it, an embedded computer code programmed that e-mail to self-destruct. That’s the way of this party group, powerful, very influential men and complete security and confidentiality. And later you'll lean why our secrets must never leave the secure walls of this mansion.”
That sounded so strange, a little intimidating and my mind went into a spin. I tried to remember some of the names and the messages on the web site… some of the intriguing hot-wife issues and Marilyn stood there watching my reaction.
“Well anyway Brad, about tonight, the man you've asked about, his name is Marc.” She now studied my eyes with an amused look on her face, “he’s a high-level executive over at Pebble. So you think your wife would like to meet him… and perhaps…?”
“Yes… I'm, well, pretty sure.”
“Mmm,” she murmured, “it might be fun. Likely he's already noticed your beautiful wife, but I'll point her out to Marc and later… I'll introduce them, and we'll see what we can work out. And Brad… ah… one more thing…”
“Yes, Marilyn?”
“Well Brad, don't feel so embarrassed, you're certainly not alone with that particular wife fantasy… watching your wife making love with another man is a common fantasy and later, well it seems you've been recommended and cleared by the big Boofer and several other well-connected people, so there’s a little party secret I can share with you… actually, a rather big secret.”
My lovely hostess eased her hand up around the back of my neck and lifted her pretty face… slightly parted lips, warm and moist, pressed mine. I felt the tiny flick of Marilyn’s warm pointy tongue and then she smiled at me, a mysterious teasing smile and disappeared back into the crowd. I was a little confused about those strange names, the mysterious invitation and perplexed about the little secret…
What secret? I wondered… what in hell could it be?
But I continued to take note of Marc mingling with the sophisticated crowd, an immaculately dressed, clean-cut guy, the quintessential young executive, tall, well mannered and self-assured. Mingling casually, he seemed to be well respected and not the pushy type. I paid particular attention as he interacted with some of the women, a gentle hand squeeze in passing… a word or two spoken with respect. As I strolled around in the crowd, I could feel that curious intrigue creeping deeper into my stomach… he’d be the perfect match for my shy lovely wife, the perfect bed partner for her first time. I began to wonder how it would feel to offer my wife to him, watch him take her from me… lead her off to some secluded part of the house.
A little weak feeling crept into my stomach. My God… I thought, do I dare go ahead with this… dare to ease my shy wife into Marc’s presence, just give this crazy hot-wife fantasy a little nudge and maybe guide it up to the next bend in the bumpy road?
By the time I saw my pretty hostess smiling at me from across the room, the heavy boots of curiosity had stomped all over the squirmy little doubts. Marilyn moved next to me, unnoticed, we slipped back out onto the patio. “Did you talk to Marc about… meeting my wife… and…”
“Uh-huh,” she whispered. “He'd already noticed your beautiful wife and he's infatuated with the idea of… of having her. I told him it’s Wendy's first time and he's utterly intrigued.”
Someone had swung the double doors wide open to the night air. Glancing back inside I could see this extremely handsome guy standing across the room, his dark eyes unobtrusively watching my wife and a few of the ‘stomped upon’ doubts sprung back to life. Marilyn sensed me squirming; she could see the emotional trauma, the indecision creeping up into my eyes.
“Be sure Brad… Marc would be the perfect guy to make love with your innocent Wendy, but it’s a big step and if we start this… well, after a certain point it might be hard to stop it.”
Nerves crawling, my stomach in a knot, I found myself staring up at the blackness of a Monterey sky, it shimmered with zillions of stars and I thought… “Now… grasp the opportunity now, give Wendy to another man or it will stay a fantasy forever…”
And I rationalized… at home in bed, she trembles when we talk about it, so somewhere deep inside, Wendy wants to let this happen. Eyes fixated upon the heavens, I made the decision. “Let’s go ahead Marilyn,” I murmured. “Get my wife off to one side and casually introduce her to Marc… let’s see how it goes, see if Wendy even likes him.”
“Brad, be honest with yourself… women find Marc irresistible, so your wife is definitely going to ‘like’ him… and Brad, it’s very unlikely she’ll be able to resist the temptation to…”
“Yeah, I know… I know,” mumbled.
The deed done, it was a moment in time I'll always remember and I just stood there, out under the star filled sky and let the guilt wash through my nervous stomach. But deep in my heart, I knew it was a very special gift from a caring husband to a wife he deeply loves. It’s a gift that’s been given to so many sweet wives, by so many loving husbands. His innocent wife’s first act of uninhibited sex with another man, the husband's acceptance of his wife's cries and moans, the acceptance of another man’s sperm left within slippery warmth of his wife's loins… yes, it’s a gift that has no parallel…
So this was to be my gift to Wendy, a night for my shy wife to slip nakedly into bed with another man and explore the fantasies that lurked in both our minds.
And only minutes later, I watched anxiously as Marilyn, my hostess… and now my co-conspirator drew them together. And so it happened… and like so many of the impulsive things that change our lives, it was so simple… so quickly done… and only hours later, so utterly undoable…
With that intriguing twinkle in her eyes, my lovely hostess made the introduction. “Wendy this is Marc, an exec over at Pebble. He’s a bit of a scoundrel, but still… well, a good and trusted friend. Marc this is Wendy, a lovely out-of-town visitor so you must be especially nice to her.”
In a millisecond his eyes took inventory of my lovely blushing wife, she stood tall in her heels, a long legged little blonde angel. His eyes darted from her long shimmering hair, down to trim shapely ankles and quickly back to settle into the depth of eyes as clear blue as melting arctic ice.
Standing next to the open doorway, I pretended not to notice, but I watched him reach out to my Wendy; she dutifully placed her soft hand in his for the obligatory social squeeze. Their eyes seemed to lock. As he clasped her hand, my pretty wife gave him one of those girlish shy glances and lowered her lovely blue eyes. But the immediate attraction was evident and clearly mutual. I heard him murmur, almost under his breath…
“Oh my, what a lovely visitor we have.”
“Now Marc,” the hostess teased. “You mind your manners now… Wendy is a married lady!”
It was just another quick downward flash of his eyes, now at her left hand… taking note of the little band of gold. But wedding ring aside, moments later, he led my wife to a sofa at the quieter side of the room. Unabashedly his eyes roamed over Wendy’s long-legged natural beauty, her full sensuous lips with just the hint of a dimple on her pretty chin and my wife's shy smile revealed those perfect pearly white teeth. I saw him whisper something and lightly stroke the straw-blonde hair that hung down her back like a shimmering wave of spun gold.
In the following hour they talked in low tones, sitting close, they shared a drink or two. Eventually sipping from the same wine glass as he leaned close whispering things in her ear… things that caused Wendy to flutter her lashes and blush. Ever prim and proper, my wife sat with her knees clasped and her short skirt carefully smoothed, but from time-to-time her lake-blue eyes gazed up into his with a dreamy look and for multi-second intervals their eyes would lock in some shared fascination.
It began to gnaw at me… the sight of Wendy’s little pink tongue, licking a speck of wine from her lower lip, while looking up into his dark eyes. Having seen it many times, I knew the meaning of that dreamy gaze in her moist eyes, that subconscious licking of her lower lip, those quivery exhalations of breath that seem to whisper, “take me… take me to bed…….”
Feeling a little nervous guilt, I remained outside the open doorway, talking with other people while pretending not to notice their ever increasing interest in each other. Sneaking quick glances, I caught the very moment his hand breached that socially acceptable space between their bodies. He shifted slightly and palm up, his hand settled very casually onto her lap. Midway above her knee, close to her crotch and separated only by the thin material of her skirt… the back of his hand lay resting on my wife's warm thigh…
Hypnotically, he stared deep into the misty depth of Wendy’s blue eyes, impelling her to reach for his straying hand. Her long dark eyelashes fluttered nervously as he willed my timid wife to entwine her married fingers with his. I felt the tension building… her warmly parted lips were close to his and if she reaches for his hand, he may lean closer and try to kiss her lips.
It was a telling moment… acceptance or rejection?
I held my breath. Several seconds passed. In utter suspense, I watched the slow seduction of my wife moving ahead, one gentle step at a time. Feeling the weight of his hand on her thigh, Wendy was hesitant, but soon her warm fingertips inched their way onto his palm and she met his eyes with a long languid gaze. Leaning close, he whispered something in her ear and her hesitant fingers eased deeper onto his palm. Bit by bit he was gaining her confidence and when his fingers squeezed my wife's hand in a warm tender grip, I felt something grip my thumping heart.
Heads now close, they were murmuring softly as he dallied with Wendy’s long slender fingers. Marc was pressing her fingers in a gentle coital rhythm, those rhythmic touches that send subliminal messages to a woman’s mind. And as if in anticipation of what was to come, his fingers idly toyed with her diamond ring and its matching wedding band.
And what was to come? Perhaps nothing but the teasing touches of another man’s fingers, his whispery intimations. Perhaps only a hotly flushed face and a well moistened panty crotch, but I could feel my nerves growing ever tighter as the other possibility loomed.
Yes the other nerve tingling possibility… that of my sweet wife Wendy submitting sexually to another man, being tipped onto her back, her rumpled skirt shucked up to her waist while her arms coil warmly around his neck. It was our long held fantasy, whispered in bed, ohh so many times…
“Sweetie, will you lift your behind so he can pull down your panties?”
“Ohhh yes darling… I will… I will…”
“And you'll let him get between your legs?”
“Mmm humm… and… and I'll spread my knees… wide apart… so he can…”
“So he can slip his big penis in… deep inside…”
“Yes… ohhh yes… I want him to…”
Our bedtime whispers, she quivers with excitement as we talk, but will she really let it happen? Soon Marc may ask and if her searching eyes find mine and I see a glint of anticipation and hotly flushed cheeks will I force a smile and nod my head… just see him take my wife's trembling hand and walk her away?
With my eyes squeezed shut I could already see my wife under him, her long shapely legs sprawled… her back arched into a bow… the first quick thrust of his cock… her pretty head tipping back in a soundless scream. And then, as I stand trembling by the side of the bed… he fucks her… firmly, decisively, he fucks her…
I felt the rushing of my blood, a pulsing in my ears. My god…. what a shivery feeling…
Unobtrusively I hovered out in the shadows and watched my wife succumbing to his advances. As he leaned close to whisper in her ear, his lips brushed a feathery path across her flushed cheek. I saw his hand slip between the sofa cushion and the nearest cheek of her plump round ass. There was a little telltale squirming of her buttocks against the sofa seat, little shivers and a hot flush of nervous excitement colored her cheeks. Her facial expressions, her body language and the breathy tone of her voice… all a familiar prelude to making love and I knew… if it happened, it would be a sensual and never forgotten experience in our marriage.
Suddenly he stood, reached down for Wendy’s hand and quickly lifted my adorable little darling to her feet. It happened in an instant and if hearts could really leap, mine would have been in my throat. They stood for a suspenseful moment, hands clasped, sharing whispers. My pulse quickened at the thought of them leaving the room, but I watched as he led my wife onto the crowded dance floor. He wanted to touch her… clearly she wanted to be touched and the dancing allowed him to take my wife into his arms, to hold her close and press against her up-thrusting breasts.
************
While unnoticed in shadows, my eyes now fixated on the shifting group of dancers just inside the open French doorway. My wife was somewhere in that swirl of bodies, dancing, held in the strong arms of another man and I listened to the laughter and romantic music drifting out into the star-studded night.
Through the mingling crowd, I was catching glimpses of my lovely wife, but from time-to-time losing sight of Wendy’s glimmering blonde head. I craned my neck trying to keep track of her amongst the twisting swirling bodies. An unsettling image of the waiting bed lurked in my mind and each time she disappeared, my weak stomach did little flip-flops until I spotted her again. Tall and handsome, he was holding my shy wife against his strong chest. Wendy’s pretty head now rested on his broad shoulder, his lips just brushing across her glossy hair, his every breath taking in her warm womanly scent.
With her full shapely breasts nestled firmly against his chest, her slender fingers toyed with the dark hair at the back of his strong neck. And as if my lovely wife were his to hold and touch, Marc held Wendy securely against his groin, breathing in her sweet scent… feeling the female warmth of her young body in his arms. Seemingly fused at the hips, clinging as though molded into a single body, they moved to the music. His hand caressed her back, from time-to-time lingering on the upper curve of her delightful rump.
I watched Wendy’s stomach snuggled against his… undulating against his… mere fabric separating his thickening penis from the fluid warmth of my wife's loins. It surged through me; the sordid thought… of his swelling penis pressing upward, now just against my wife's covered stomach… but later, perhaps deep into the slippery warmth of her bare belly. Ohhh this could really happen… Ohhh God it might really happen…
And may the Gods forgive me; squirming with guilt, I just sat by and watched the slow seduction of my bashful young wife. But never in my life, had I ever experienced such raw excitement. It tugged at me, the shivery excitement and anticipation. But they blended with fluttering waves of fear… they’ll make love and he’ll leave his sperm in the belly of my young wife and the emotional mix swirled around in my head, finally settling into the pit of my queasy stomach. Throw in an ounce or two of newly discovered jealousy and suddenly I was twisting nervously in my seat… my eyes boring through the crowd, waiting… watching her…
With the French doors open to the drifting eddies of warm salt air, someone at the far side of the room slowly dimmed the lighting and as the dance floor eased into still deeper shadow, lovely flush-faced wives were being passed from hubby’s arms into the waiting arms of other men. With over the shoulder glances, with fleeting meetings of the eyes, pretty wives were being quickly swept away by other men. And far below the high cliff, as ocean currents rolled over the rocky shoreline in a rhythmic wash of foamy waves, the crowd became an anonymous gathering of warm shifting bodies… the muggy night air, now heavy with the undulating togetherness of soft breasts and warm loins.
And my eyes strained to see as his hand slipped lower, his cupped fingers now loitering near the deep crack between the cheeks of my wife's curvy backside. At the touch of Marc’s impudent fingers, a dazzling blonde head slowly lifted from his shoulder, with parted lips Wendy’s pretty face turned up… and my hands clenched into tight fists. Misty blue eyes gazed up into his… she drew a deep breath and suddenly my wife's warm lips were only inches from his…
“Oh my God,” I groaned aloud… “Why did I start this…?”
**********
So why had I started such a thing… On what crazy impulse did I create this bizarre situation, all the while knowing this night would likely end with my little sweetheart’s seduction… turned nakedly onto her back, with another man between her spread knees? And knowing the coming of dawn might cast its first light upon a stained and wrinkled bed sheet… her married innocence reduced to a few curly blonde pubic hairs lost amidst the sordid smears of female fluids and drying sperm.
I don't know why… Perhaps long ago some devilish force planted the preposterous idea in my head and awaiting this crazy night, it just festered there.
We married young; no other guy had ever gone all the way with her. I suppose that may have caused the initial curiosity… wondering how my innocent wife would react to another guy between her legs… how I might feel as the act took place. Perhaps letting it happen on our marriage bed… watching the first deep hunch of his back and seeing the expression on her hot face… seeing her blue eyes go wide and then slowly close.
When we first married, my shy bride would spread her knees with a flaming blush on her pretty face, but she learned to love it, she began to crave the feeling of a stiffened penis thrusting into the warm slipperiness of her loins. When we made love, I'd see Wendy’s eyelids flutter, I'd feel the little trembles of her multiple orgasms and I'd wonder what thoughts might be lurking behind those tightly squeezed eyes… I'd hear the gasps and whimpers and wonder what images, what fantasies does she see on the insides of those closed eyelids?
She’d lay, arms sprawled, her sweaty belly quivering until the numbing shudders of her orgasm gradually faded. After a while, her eyes would open, fluttering lashes and just moist little slits at first, then wide open big blue eyes, staring up at me in wonder at the belly-quivering thrills her young body had grown to crave.
“Oh darling,” she’d murmur… “Can we do it again… a little more… ohhh, just a little more?” And I'd look down into my wife's misty blue eyes and wonder what urges might lie hidden down in that misty void, way down in the secret depths of that curious mind.
And like all young couples, we talked in bed… so I probed a bit, just curiosity at first, then gradually, came the intrigue of delving into her naïve little mind. Months passed, sharing whispered secrets in the sanctity of our bed, our bond grew ever deeper. One night, with the bed lamp dimmed and semi-darkness hiding her flushed face, my bashful wife confessed to a lot of teen-girl masturbation.
“But don’t you still?” I asked. Her pretty face flushed; she covered her eyes with the back of her hand. Her lips parted, little pink tongue flashed across her lower lip, but she didn’t speak.
“Sweetheart… you can tell me.”
“Well, just sometimes,” she murmured… “Well, like when you're at work and I feel… ah, a little tense…”
“With your finger?”
“Mmmm.”
So I logged onto “Jt’s Stockroom” web site and bought the shy little darling a couple of toys, a vibrator and a latex rubber penis. It took a while, but in bed together, she began to use them while I watched and gradually we began to play those little pretend games. With extra lubricant, the rubber penis made wet squishy sounds and it was so easy to pretend… to imagine. Heads close on a pillow, we whispered about other couples… and particularly, the tingling fantasy of another man. Then one night, while Wendy lay back with her big blue eyes squeezed shut and her bent knees spread, I parted the curly wisps of hair with my fingers and slipped the life-size rubber penis into the pink warmth of her slickened vagina.
“Sweetheart, do you feel him… do you feel his penis in you?” When I stroked it, she sucked in a quick breath and her belly muscles clenched. And as she listened to the squishy wet sound, I whispered very softly…
“Wen… do you ever wonder… ever think about how it would really feel with another guy, have another man’s warm stiff penis in you?”
In a weak struggling voice she murmured. “Mmmm… at times I wonder… I… I mean what it would be like to…” Her voice trailed off.
But I probed a little deeper. “When you play with the toys… alone, and pretend?”
“Mmmm,” she blushed.
“You pretend it’s a real penis… another guy’s penis?”
“Mmmm, sometimes…” she blushed deeper and turned her eyes away.
So it went on from there, playing with the fantasy, the fertile seed of intrigue sprouting and growing in that devious place in my mind. And if that party invitation had never arrived, well, I suppose none of what follows would have ever happened….
*********
To be continued in (Chapter 3)
B.W.B.
