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Stephanie (mf) (part 1)

Stephanie (mf)
By: Scott Tracy
©2006 All rights reserved.
Non-Commercial re-posting permitted with proper credit to author and posting of copyright information and limitation.


I don’t know exactly when the thought first popped into my head.

I guess I became preoccupied with sex about the time I turned thirty. That was thirteen months ago. It was shortly thereafter that I began noticing how Tim, my husband of eight years, wasn’t as aggressively sexual with me as he once was. The funny thing was that when I was twenty-two, I remember praying to God asking that Time stop constantly pawing me.

After seven years of marriage, my prayers had been more than answered.

Oh, Tim was every bit as devoted to me as he had ever been. But, the near constant sexual energy that he’d once had was now gone. And, the funny thing was that now that his energy had waned, I really, really wanted it back.

Oh, the mistakes we make not appreciating and enjoying what we have.

So, as Tim’s sexual interest faded, my own interest increased. As I searched for ways to enhance our mutual sexual pleasure, I started reading books on the evolution of sexual relationships in marriages. Many of these books discussed the role of sexual communication and of a healthy fantasy life in maintaining sexual interest in a marriage. As a result, Tim and I began discussing our fantasies as part of our sexual play. And, sure enough, the sexual discussions and fantasy play did help to spark our sexual relations.

I don’t know what the “usual” fantasies are, but I assume ours are not out of the norm. Most of my fantasies involve sexual acts in unusual places or situations. For example, one of my favorite fantasies is having sex in my high school gym in front of my senior biology class. I am a classic exhibitionist, and the idea of showing all those stuck-up bastards what they were missing is a real turn on. I also enjoy a variety of fantasies based upon having sex with other people. In one of my current favorites, I seduce and fuck the lights out of Johnny Depp.

In contrast, almost all of Tim’s fantasies involve sex with other people. Knowing what I know about men and about Tim, I wasn’t at all surprised that he fantasized about having sex with other women. However, I was a bit surprised about who his fantasy objects were. He wasn’t into thinking about models or actresses at all. Instead, nearly all of his fantasy objects were real people that we either knew or had met.

For example, he had fantasies about a co-worker of mine, a bartender we know, a lady at our church, even a divorced women living down the street. That’s not to say that some of my fantasy lovers weren’t real, too. I often thought about seducing and fucking the brains out of the delivery driver that picks up our dry cleaning. But, Tim never went for the unreachable. He always liked women that he could really imagine reaching.

What was more surprising to me was the degree that Tim fantasized about watching me fucking some other man. Until we started talking, it never would have occurred to me that Tim would have been at all aroused by that image. Yet, it was one of the more powerful fantasies that he shared with me. I loved that since he would have me described one of my fantasies about being fucked and really get into it to the point of banging me real, real hard.

Until we started talking, it never had occurred to me think of Tim being fucked by another woman as a turn on for me. Yet, Tim’s reaction to the thought of me being fucked caused me to start to examine how I’d feel about Tim actually being fucked in front of me. As I though more and more about the image, the more erotic it became to me. The image of the head of his penis disappearing into the folds of some strange woman’s vagina became a complete turn on for me. Eventually, I became obsessed with the idea of witnessing Tim’s balls in spasm while a load of his sperm splashed up against some strange woman’s cervix.

I suppose it was at this point that a plan began to take shape in my mind. How could I set Tim up for a threesome with me and another woman?

The more I thought about it, the more the idea turned me on. On those occasions that Tim and I shared fantasies about me being fucked, Tim would often ask me to describe how I thought it would feel to be fucked by a strange cock. Instead of fucking a strange cock, I began to image what Tim would do with a strange woman. As I described how some stranger might tense up and come within my pussy, I started really imaging what Tim’s ass would look like tightening up as he delivered a load into another woman’s womb.

After becoming fixated on these images over a period of weeks, I decided to approach Tim about exploring making some of our fantasies realities.

He was very reluctant to discuss it. Tim is your prototypical Catholic schoolboy. A virgin when we met in college, I managed to take his cherry only a few weeks before we were to be married. Tim had never been completely comfortable with the moral ramifications of premarital sex. So, the thought of actual extramarital sex was more than he could handle initially. I suspect that was one of the things that made the fantasies all the more exciting for him.

I probably would have dropped the idea had it not been for Stephanie’s call.

Stephanie and I had grown up not far from one another and had been on again off again friends throughout our grade school years. By high school, our friendship had solidified into the life-long category. Though we hung in different groups (she was a gymnast and football cheerleader, I was into music, drama and boys), we still managed to spend time with one another on most weekends. She would tell me how shallow and insensitive the jocks were that she dated. I would complain about how whimpy the arts boys were that I dated. It was, in many ways, a match made in heaven.

Sadly, our companionship ended shortly after graduation. Stephanie had decided to go to school out west chasing both a gymnastics scholarship and a boy she had fallen in love with named Peter. We managed to stay in touch. She would come back to town from time to time to see her parents. We would never fail to get together during those visits for one or two evenings of drinking and dancing. Peter didn’t even last a semester. However, by her junior year she had hooked up with a doctoral candidate studying ancient Greek philosophy. You just knew the guy was destine to teach since no one can make a living with a Doctorate in Greek philosophy except as a college professor.

I really didn’t understand what Stephanie saw in him since he was the bookish type and she had always gone for jocks. Then, one day, Stephanie explained his attraction in very simple terms, the guy was built like a horse where it mattered and had a sexual stamina to match.

In that one statement, all became very clear. In high school, Stephanie had been the horniest girl I knew. Losing her virginity at thirteen, she had spent the majority of her junior year without a steady boyfriend because it would have prevented her from dating and fucking more than one guy over a given weekend (or even on a given night). On one particularly depraved weekend, she had conspired to meet and fuck one boy in the afternoon, another over dinner, and a third later in the night.

She was always very careful with protection and never had any difficulty in finding willing participants. She shied away from partners her own age, favoring, instead, boys several years her senior. It made things less complicated, she would say. That she was a high school gymnast capable of dressing to look almost any age and willing to fuck at the drop of a hat ensured her a nearly endless supply of hard cocks willing to try to satisfy her.

It was sometime shortly after this revelation that our correspondence and telephone calls became more infrequent. I assumed that she had gotten caught up in the relationship. Stephanie had last visited our town for our wedding. Shortly thereafter, I learned from her parents that she had married the “Doctor” is a quiet civil ceremony. Thereafter, I lost track of her.

Then she suddenly called up one day out of the blue two years ago. It turns out that her professor husband had been keeping office hours with a number of his students. While tragic, it was also a bit ironic. Given her sexual past, I had always assumed that she would be the one to stray in a monogamous relationship. She had no interest in staying in a relationship wondering who he was fucking this week. Nobly (or foolishly) she hadn’t wanted to cause a scandal, so she left him quietly and took up residence in Seattle.

Our communications became more regular once again. And, I started to learn about the dating and sex habits of the unattached thirty-something. It’s funny, but the picture painted by Sarah Jessica Parker is far different than the picture Stephanie painted. Most thirty-something men, she claimed, are interested only in bagging as many twenty-something women as possible. Indeed, according to Stephanie, most forty-something men are identically motivated.

I last saw Stephanie a little less than a year ago when Tim traveled to Seattle on business and I tagged along. We’d had dinner, the three of us. During one of the trips to the bathroom, I learned that Stephanie hadn’t lost her sexual appetite. However, at thirty, it was far more difficult for her to quench her appetite than it had been at twenty (or seventeen). It was difficult not to reflect upon the irony of her situation. She was now in competition with the very same promiscuous teenager she’d been in her youth. And, though her gymnast body was still very tight, the few extra pounds and mild additional wrinkles that come with a decade of life experiences were clearly working against her.

She had mused at how lucky I was to have Tim and had joked at how nice it would be to borrow him for a night. I knew for all the joking, she was actually very much more serious than not. But, at the time, it wasn’t anything that I was ready to contemplate. So, I polite let the joke go by.

Tim later commented on how Stephanie had looked good but very lonely. Sexually frustrated was more the truth. Roughly a month later, Stephanie became one of Tim’s more favorite fantasy objects. Then roughly two months later, we moved on to something else.

Stephanie and I continued to communicate regularly. And, approximately two weeks ago, she called to let me know that she would be traveling east for a conference. She asked if she could stay with us for a couple nights. She wanted to visit her parents but couldn’t stay with them (they had moved into a small retirement apartment and didn’t have the room to put her up). She also told me that she was hoping to hook up with some of her old acquaintances for some adult fun. I offered her the guest bedroom which she accepted.

In spite of my growing preoccupation with sex, things didn’t click together immediately. It wasn’t until later that evening when I told Tim about Stephanie’s impending visit that things literally came together.

“How long will she be staying?” He asked.

“I think three, maybe four nights. She wasn’t definite. I suppose it will depend upon how much fun we are and whether she is able to find someone else with whom to spend time.”

“Oh, is she still without a boyfriend?”

“Yes, and she is as horny as hell as a result.”

“That’s really sad. She is a super attractive woman. You’d think she’d have no trouble hooking up with someone.”

It was then that I first thought of Tim and Stephanie together. I immediately felt myself get wet and my nipples stand on end.

“So, you think she’s attractive, huh?” I asked, coyly

“Sure,” he replied quickly.

“How so?” I asked.

“Well, for starters, she was a gymnast for all those years. Who in their right mind wouldn’t want to find out what it's like to fuck a former gymnast?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Ride you like an apparatus and all that. I get it, but is there anything else.”

“Sure, she has a tight ass, pert boobs, great lips, and the mind able to put two sentences together meaningfully. What more could an intelligent man want?”

“What are you saying, that she is a better catch than me?” I asked in mock disapproval. I knew that Tim would not fall for this little trick, but it always made me hot to hear his responses.

“Of course not. Comparing you to Stephanie is like comparing apples and oranges. The two of you are completely different people with completely different body types. You are sexy for your height which is perfectly in proportion to your larger breasts and hips.”

Is there any woman anywhere that doesn’t love it when their man is telling them why they are sexy? I always loved Tim’s description of my 5’ 10” frame and 34C cup breasts. Yet, just once, he could mention my golden blond hair and hazel eyes.

“Stephanie is much shorter,” Tim continued, “more petite in the bust and ass with those very muscular thighs.”

Boy was that last statement true. Stephanie’s specialty in college gymnastics had been the vault. As a result, she had the powerful muscular inner thighs of a vaulter. Her thighs, however, were the only part of her body at all out of proportion. At 5’ 5”, her 32 B cup breasts actually were on the large size, if anything. I had always been a little jealous of her dark auburn hair and deep brown eyes.

“Yours is classic beauty with height,” Tim concluded. “Hers is classic beauty in the petite form. Very different forms of beauty, but both very, very nice to the connoisseur of beauty. Plus, you know that I am a sucker for a rounded, pouting ass. Your hips and ass are the best.”

“However,” Tim continued, “you know that I do have a little thing for brunettes.”

His smile told me he was joking. Several years before I had accused him of having a complete obsession with light colored blonds in deference to my golden blond.

“You ass!” I retorted. “Well…..” I said, pausing while I thought of the different ways to bring up the next subject.

I decided that the direct approach was best.

“Would you like the opportunity to stick that hard cock of yours where so many men have gone before?”

I know it was clumsy, but this wasn’t planned and every book that discussed the possibility of making fantasies a reality says that communication is the key. So, I decided on the spot to communicate.

“You mean, how would I like to fuck Stephanie?” Tim asked back. The tone of his voice suggested that his question back was asked as much in utter amazement as in an honest effort to confirm that he had heard me correctly.

With a deep breath, I responded, “yes.”

“Whoa….Yyyyyou’re serious, aren’t you,” Tim stuttered. “This isn’t just a fantasy thing, is it?”

I always found Tim’s nervous stutter terribly sexy.

“No, I’m serious. I know that she is very, very horny and hasn’t had sex in over a year. I never told you this, but last year in the bathroom at Remone’s she half jokingly suggested bedding you for a night just to quench her fire. I haven’t spoken to her about you on this trip, but I am fairly confident that she will ‘jump’ at the chance to fuck you.”

I now noticed the head of Tim’s cock poking through the fly in his pajama bottoms. His cock was evidently very hard as the head was the deep-ish purple it gets only when he is at his highest state of arousal.

“I guess I’m flattered. But, I wouldn’t want to be unfaithful to you in that way.”

Despite his Catholic boy upbringing, I could tell that it pained him very much to say that. I loved that he was so concerned about my feelings in this matter. All I had to do now was convince him that I was as turned on at the prospect of him fucking Stephanie as he obviously was.

“How would you be ‘being unfaithful’ to me if I am the one suggesting it and setting it up?”

“Well, …” he started to say. I didn’t let him finish.

“Did you ever consider my feelings in this matter?”

“That’s what I am trying to do!” he exclaimed.

“Did you ever stop and consider that it might be hot for me to watch you fuck Stephanie?”

I reached out and tickled the head of his cock.

“Did you stop and think that I might like to watch you caressing her breasts, sucking her nipples, fingering her cunt, sucking her clit?”

I was stroking his cock now. As the pre-cum gushed from its eye, I knew I had him. My pussy was so fucking wet. It was so fucking hot, me sitting on my marriage bed, seducing my husband into fucking another woman in front of me for my pleasure and enjoyment. I started in on all of the fantasy visions that had been building in my head.

“Have you considered that I might want to watch her rise up above you on her knees, see her thighs lower her pussy so that it is in contact with your cock, watch the head of your manhood penetrate the tightness of her vagina and disappear into her gaping slit?.

I was really stroking Tim now. I pulled his PJ's down and jumped on top of his cock, impaling it and myself in one quick stroke. I started rubbing my clit hard against the root of his penis. I knew that I wouldn’t last long. I suspected that Tim wouldn’t last much longer either.

“Oh, Tim,” I exclaimed, rubbing my clit up and down against his shaft “you simply have to fuck her for me."

"I want to watch you fuck her."

"I want to watch her little gymnast body ride up and down on you manhood."

"But most of all….” I paused, the pressure welling up in me, “I want to see, your balls contract, and…uh…uh…unload…uh… your cum….your cum…uh DEEP INSIDE HER…aaaah.”

With that, my pussy contracted hard around Tim’s cock.

Through my orgasmic haze, I could feel Tim’s hands grabbing hard onto my hips as his back arched high into the air. Deep inside my vagina, I felt his head pulsating and straining as if it was reaching out in a vain attempt to touch my cervix and deliver its sperm directly into my uterus. He grabbed my hips and held me hard against his pelvis unwilling to let even a millimeter of his penis depart my body—a purely primal reflex intended to ensure that each and every sperm was delivered as close to the prize as possible.

After what seemed like minutes, his hands finally released my hips and he allowed me to slump forward against his chest.

We laid that way, me listening to his heart race along with my own, for fiver of so minutes. In that time, I felt the head of his now spent and deflated love organ exit my body. It was followed by a slow ooze of a mixture of my love juices and his cum. Slowly this mixture of spent passion and lust started making its way to the bedsheets by means of my leg and Tim's thigh. The trickle of the fluids over my skin felt deeply, deeply naughty. Suddenly, I wondered, what would Tim's semen look like as it flowed out of Stephanie’s gaping and well used twat.

I cannot explain fully how erotic that image was to me. Picturing Stephanie in an afterglow embrace with Tim, ther combined sex fluids mixing and trickling from her cunt immediately caused the blood to return to my pussy and the feeling to return to my clit.

I closed my eyes and indulged the vision further, urging my imagination to take control. I pictured myself taking Tim’s spent cock and balls into my mouth and licking them clean of all his cum and Stephanie’s love juices. I further imagined directing Tim to clean up the mess he’d made--ordering him to suck and lick Stephanie’s pussy until every remaining drop of his semen had been removed from her body. While he was doing this duty, I imagined getting in between his legs and playing with his balls and cock and tickling his ass.

As I imagined these scenes, I started rubbing myself against Tim’s cum covered thigh. I again felt the tell tail tingle of an orgasm rising within me looking for a release.

I imagined Stephanie grabbing hold of Tim’s head and arching her back forcing his tongue deeper into her hole. What would that sound like? A muffled combination of quiet slurping and gentle humming, I concluded. My own pussy hummed its own response.

Then I imagined Tim pulling away from her love hole and announcing that his task had been completed. The image of Stephanie’s pussy gapping wide before me was intoxicating. What would I do? An inspection, of course!

I imagined sticking one and then two fingers gently then more forcefully into her hole to see if any semen yet remained. Of course, a thorough inspection would require me to run the very tips of my fingers up and down every surface of her vagina that could be reached. I imagined just such an inspection, lovingly caressing her inner walls, gently tickling her g-spot, feeling her hips rise to me my touch.

Then, I would feel it. The slippery remnants of Tim’s unholy presence. Removing my fingers I would show Tim and to Stephanie.

“Look, you missed a drop,” I’d say.

He’d offer to try again…to do a better job.

“No,” I imagined myself saying, in mock disappointment.

The tingle that had started deep inside me was rising very quickly now. I forced my body down as I ground my clit hard into Tim flesh. By now it was clear to me what was coming. So, I let my imagination go on.

“I’ll do this myself,” I declared.

And with that I imagined myself lovingly kissing and licking the most private of Stephanie’s organs.

The second orgasm exploded over me like a tidal wade. My body shuttered as my toes rolled over upon themselves. My clit became the complete focus of my attention, only it wasn’t my clit. It was Stephanie’s clit, the one that I had just imagined taking into my mouth. The naughtiness of the image took control of my body and my body responded by attempting to shake it all away. In the back of my head I could hear myself screaming a primal, guttural scream. But, reality seemed so very, very distant.

Slowly the waves of muscular contractions subsided. At some point I fell to Tim’s side. It was a few moments before either of us chanced disturbing the moment.

“I don’t believe that I have ever seen you that animated during love making before,” he said half stating a fact and half asking a question. “I assume that was very good. But, are you all right?”

“Oh….yeah….” I said, still gulping oxygen like it was Gatorade. “That was very, very good for me.”


(End part 1)

End of Story