Free Erotic Stories
Crossing The Boundary
"You don't need the bra," I said to my wife, Lisa.
She looked up at me, almost pleading. "Please, Brian." She was getting ready for an evening I had been imagining for years.
"You don't need it," I repeated.
Lisa looked down, defeated, at the bra in her hands and put it back into her suitcase. As she bent over, her breasts hung down and jiggled, and her bum bulged slightly out of the bottom of her panties.
She reached instead for her dress, and pulled it over her head. I helped her do up the zipper. The shiny blue material clung to her curves. My wife, at 40, still had a blockbuster figure, with full breasts, flat tummy and wide hips. She stood a head shorter than me but had perfect proportions as far as I was concerned, a full hourglass figure.
Then she slipped her small feet into her black heels and turned to face me.
"Is this what you want?" she asked, looking up at me.
I noticed how blue her eyes looked, highlighted by the blue of the dress. I'd made her put on lip gloss and eye make-up, and she'd cut her blond hair in a new way, like a page boy. It was like I was looking at someone else.
"That's perfect," I said. I ran my hands down the side of her body, feeling the absence of bra, the roundness of her hips. She closed her eyes, and some color rose in her cheeks.
"I hope you know what you're doing," she said. She walked across our hotel room towards the door. The dress was very snug and her breasts and bum wobbled with every step. My cock was quickly growing hard.
"Let's go," she said.
I had been looking forward to this for ages. For years I'd fantasized about showing my wife off to other men but never acted on it. Lisa had always been somewhat submissive and I suspected that she would do anything I asked. But until recently, I hadn't dared ask her anything. I didn't even talk about it. When it came to sex, my wife and I were both dealing with a lot of guilt and repressed urges.
All of that changed after we'd had some counseling. We had married young and the kids had recently left home. When we found ourselves alone, just the two of us, for the first time in our lives, it started to dawn on us that we'd drifted apart over the years. Making even simple conversation was difficult. We almost stopped talking altogether.
It was time to seek help.
The counselor told us we needed to fix the communication problem first and gave us some exercises to practice being more open about our feelings. One of them was to "confess" a secret. Big or small, it didn't matter. It was just to experiment with being more honest.
So one evening, after we'd had a few drinks, I decided to take the bull by the horns and I told my wife about my fantasy of exhibiting her to other men. I tried to keep it casual and harmless, although just talking about it gave me a huge hard-on - and the usual feelings of guilt.
When I was done, she was quiet for a while. We were sitting in our living room after dinner, finishing a bottle of wine. At first, I thought maybe I'd insulted her, telling her I sometimes thought of her as such a .. well, slut.
"Look, Lisa," I said. "The counselor said we should be more open, so I'm being more open. That's all."
She looked at me and half smiled. She was wearing a pink sweater and dark gray slacks, her office clothes. As usual, her curves were prominent and I wondered briefly what the men in her office thought of her. She had her legs up under her on the sofa and I admired her small bare feet.
"It's OK, Bob," she said. "I'm not upset. I'm flattered that you think anyone would get pleasure out of looking at me."
"Are you kidding me?" I said. "With that figure? Listen, Lisa, don't tell me you don't notice guys looking at you. I see it all the time."
She smiled again and looked down, embarrassed. "Like who, for instance?"
"Let's start with our neighbor," I said. The Costellos had only lived next door for two years. The husband, Frank, was a little older than us but looked in good shape. His wife, Cathy, was allegedly five years younger than Lisa but already had gray hair and looked much older. I'd seen Frank eyeing my wife on many occasions and he featured in many of my fantasies.
Lisa seemed very embarrassed and took another sip of wine. "OK, yes, I've noticed that," she said. "He's a dirty old man." She smiled.
"He's my age," I said sternly. Then I added: "You have plenty of other admirers. Every time we go to the mall, guys are looking at you. Young guys, old guys, you name it." I was overdoing it a bit but she seemed to enjoy it.
"Yes, I've seen them." She said after a moment. "And I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it." She tugged at a strand of hair. She couldn't look at me.
"But that's what bothers me, that I like it," she said. "I don't want anyone but you. I'm your wife. I was brought up to be ..." She couldn't find the words. "I want to be a proper wife for you. These thoughts make me feel ... dirty."
For the first time in months I felt a surge of feeling towards my wife. The therapist had been right. We were connecting again.
"Lisa," I said, "you're a beautiful woman. It's natural that men find you attractive and that you like it. I'm proud when they look at you. I understand that you don't actually want to cheat on me."
I thought about our counselor again. Don't be afraid to be honest, he'd said. "I feel a bit messed up myself because the idea of you and other guys ... that it turns me on."
She took a deep breath and turned to me. "So I guess we're both sickos," she said. We smiled at each other and enjoyed this brief moment of shared guilt.
Then she glanced out the window. "Well then, tell me more about your fantasy," she said. She tried to make it sound like an everyday kind of question, but it was obvious she was nervous ... or excited.
My heart jumped in my chest, and my cock along with it. I'd had so many fantasies of her with other men that I didn't know where to start. I tried to keep it simple. I described a scene in which we meet a couple of guys at a bar, get a little tipsy, then invite them back to our place.
After some more booze, the conversation turns to sex. We watch a sex movie on the TV, Lisa gets horny and I suggest she show us a little something. She agrees, teasing us all with a slow strip.
Lisa listened intently.
"Then what?" she asked after I'd finished.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"After I strip in your fantasy, what happens?"
I squirmed a little. I wasn't ready to tell her in pornographic detail the nasty deeds I imagined her performing on all of these men.
"Nothing," I said. "That's it. You're naked and ..."
"And then you cum," she said.
I was taken aback by her straightforward approach, and suddenly ashamed that she understood that I masturbated to these fantasies. But I decided that I had to keep going if this "experiment" was going to succeed.
"Well .. yeah," I said. I tried to smile but couldn't look at her.
We sipped our drinks in silence.
After a while she said, "The guys don't touch me?"
My cock stirred once again.
"Sometimes they just watch, sometimes they masturbate, and sometimes they touch you," I replied.
Lisa had some color in her face, I saw for the first time. Was it the booze or arousal?
"What do you do in these fantasies?" she asked.
I looked out the living room window. A streetlight cast a halo of light on the chain link fence that surrounded the golf course across the street. Everything else was in darkness.
"Like the others, usually," I said. "Sometimes I just watch and sometimes I touch."
"Which do you like better?" she asked.
I took a gulp of my wine. This was more "secret" than I had bargained for.
"Well," I started, "I actually like watching." Again, I smiled half-heartedly, as though I thought this was perfectly normal. In fact, I thought it was depraved.
Lisa slid closer to me on the sofa and put her hand on my thigh.
"What do you like the very best in your fantasies?" she asked. Her questions were getting us both uncomfortable and horny at the same time.
As the answer to her question dawned on me, I struggled whether to really tell her.
"It sounds kind of weird," I said. I was flustered and couldn't decided what to say or how to say it. "It's just a fantasy. I still love you and all."
Lisa furrowed her brow for a second and then smiled. "What are you talking about?"
I collected myself and tried again. "I don't understand it myself, but the parts I like best are when you kiss the guys and treat them with ... affection," I said. "When you're really intimate with them, I get really turned on."
I also thought it was pretty sick. How could a man become aroused at the sight of his wife showing love and affection to another man?
Lisa leaned over and kissed me gently on my cheek, then on my neck. "I can understand that," she said quietly. "Intimacy is erotic."
My cock was stiff as iron at this point, but my wife made no move to touch me there.
"What else turns you on in your fantasies?" She was speaking more quietly now. I sensed she was becoming increasingly excited. "Besides the intimacy."
My head was spinning from arousal. There were a million things that turned me on in my fantasies. I cleared my throat.
"It doesn't make any sense, after I've said I like it when you're affectionate to those other guys, but it also turns me on when I force you to do it," I said. "You know, strip or whatever."
Lisa didn't respond. She just looked down at her lap.
"I mean, I force you to do stuff, but in my fantasy it turns out that you actually get excited by being forced," I said. "So, it's not really forcing you ... if you know what I mean."
She didn't seem to hear me. I was afraid I'd gone too far and our counselor's advice had backfired. Lisa was quiet for a while and I was just about to begin a long apology.
"You'd like to show me off right now, wouldn't you?" she whispered. "To force me."
I could hardly speak. "Yes," I croaked.
I watched her fidget, pushing down her skirt over her lap, pushing her hair behind her ears. It took me a few moments to figure out what was going on. Then I stood up and took her by the hand through the kitchen and out the backdoor into our garden. On one side of our house there was only forest. On the other, we could see some light from the Costello's house through the hedge between our yards. There was a dim glow from an upstairs bedroom. I wondered whether Frank would be able to see anything, assuming he would look out at this time of night.
"I want you to show off for Frank," I said quietly.
My cock was throbbing. Lisa stood motionless in the darkness.
"Take your top off," I said. After a pause, she nodded her head and started to slowly lift her pink sweater.
I looked at our neighbor's upstairs window. There was nobody there.
Lisa tugged the top over her bra, then lifted it gently over her head and threw it to the ground.
My eyes were getting used to the darkness and I could see much more of my wife than before. Instead of worrying that we might be visible to the neighbors, this only made me more excited.
"Show him more," I said.
Again, she hesitated, then undid her slacks and slipped them down to the ground. She stepped out of them and stood in the dim light in white bra, panties and bare feet.
We both looked up at the window again. There was still no one there. I sensed that Lisa was a little disappointed that this wasn't for real.
"I don't want to go any further," she whispered eventually. "Please."
A surge of disappointment swept over me. I didn't say anything. Lisa turned back and looked up at the window. She stood there for a while, her back to me, and made no move to collect her clothes or go inside. I assumed she wanted more. It was a weird game but I was too horny to ask any questions.
"Undo your bra," I said.
Lisa shook her head and looked to the ground.
"Take it off," I said. "I want you to show yourself to Frank."
After a moment, she reached up behind her back and undid the bra clasp. The straps fell loose over her shoulders but she held the cups against her breasts with her hands.
"Take it off," I said again.
She looked at me over her shoulder, then turned back to look up at Frank's window, and dropped her hands. Her bra fell to the ground. From where I stood I could see the outline of one breast in the dim light. Her nipple jutted out long and stiff.
"Now your panties," I said.
She looked at me again. "Please, Bob, don't."
For a moment I hesitated. She seemed genuinely distressed this time and I couldn't tell anymore whether this was a silly game or something more serious.
I watched her standing there in the faint light from our neighbor's house, one large breast in clear profile, a cool breeze starting to blow. I looked at the curve of her hip, a sliver of light along one smooth thigh. There was still no sign of life in the window above. My cock pounded.
"Take them off," I said.
Slowly, Lisa turned away from me again, hooked her thumbs into her panties and tugged them down over her bum. I saw them slide down her legs, ending in a heap at her feet. She didn't move.
She looked incredible, so full and voluptuous, so innocent and vulnerable.
I approached her quietly. When I was beside her, I whispered into her ear: "You can feel Frank's eyes on you, can't you? His desire. Feel his hands on you."
I reached around and squeezed her breasts, then slid my hands gently down her tummy and lightly over the mound between her thighs. I was on some sort of auto-pilot, acting without any plan or intention.
"He wants you now," I said.
I glanced up at my wife's face. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was open.
"Yes," she whispered.
I quickly dropped my trousers. My hard-on sprang free. I pushed myself against her from behind, frantically seeking her wetness and warmth. She bent over slightly and reached down, guiding me into her. She was soaking wet and I penetrated her effortlessly.
"Christ," I groaned and almost immediately erupted inside of her. I thrust into her as hard and as quickly as I could, oblivious to our surroundings. She was whimpering, although whether from excitement or distress, I couldn't tell.
Then it was over. I stood behind her gasping for a few moments, then withdrew and pulled up my pants. Lisa stood up. She was breathing quickly as well. Wordlessly, she collected her clothes, stepping into her slacks and pulling the sweater over her head. With her bra and panties in one hand, she walked back into the house.
I stood in the yard and looked up at Frank's window. Still nothing. Disappointed, I walked into the house after my wife.
That had been three weeks ago. Since then, we had become obsessed with our mutual fantasy. We never discussed it. We knew that putting it into words would destroy the excitement. Ironically, the marriage counselor's advice had backfired after all.
We stepped into the hotel elevator along with another couple. Both the man and woman looked briefly at Lisa, then turned to the door. I looked down at the front of Lisa's dress and saw her nipples pressing out prominently.
The other couple got out on the 3rd floor. When the doors closed again, I turned to my wife.
"Remember the plan," I said. "You'll sit at the bar and I'll find a table where I can see you. If someone comes on to you, play them along a little. If they want to dance, go for it."
I pushed a strand of blond hair behind one of her ears, but it slid out again. She looked up at me anxiously, but said nothing. "You're going to turn them on," I said. Then I reached down and squeezed her breasts with both hands. The silky material slid over her bulging flesh, her rigid nipples pressing against my palms. "I want them to feel your body," I whispered, my arousal rising quickly.
Lisa looked down and nodded her head slightly. "And I want you to tell me all about it later," I added as the elevator slowed. "So when you've gone as far as you dare, just give me a look and leave. I'll meet you in the room."
She nodded again, silent, as the elevator doors opened, then she walked into the lobby. I tried to keep my distance. As she passed in front of the reception desk, a couple of businessmen turned to watch her go by. The dress was snug around her breasts and thighs and her body quivered within the shiny material. It was hard to say for sure whether she was wearing a bra or not, but you wanted to look closely to find out. My dick hardened again.
She walked into the bar and sat on a stool in front of the barkeeper. The dress slid slightly up her thigh as she adjusted her bum on the stool and ordered a drink. I followed her in a few moments later and took a seat at a table near one wall, beside a large potted plant. I asked the waiter for a screwdriver. "Make it a double," I said.
Lisa looked nervous and was gulping her drink. It wasn't long before a man came over and sat down beside her. He was well dressed, probably in his mid-forties. He smiled at Lisa and they started chatting. He ordered them both another drink. I could see that my wife was having a hard time keeping the conversation going and after a few minutes, the man left.
Lisa looked around and caught my eye. She looked embarrassed. I motioned with my hand that she should take a drink. She lifted the glass to her mouth and took a sip, then a larger gulp.
After a few minutes, she was approached by another man. Again, he smiled pleasantly and they started chatting. He gestured across the room to a table where three other men were sitting and nodded with his head.
Lisa looked over at them nervously, then smiled bravely. She said something to the man at the bar and then followed him over to the table. Introductions were made and my wife sat down. I finished my drink and ordered another. My arousal was growing.
Soon Lisa had another drink going and was the focus of attention at the table. When the music started, it wasn't long before she was up and dancing with one of them. From time to time he put a hand on her waist or along her side. Knowing that he was feeling my wife's firm curves as they swayed back and forth made my cock pound.
After a couple of dances, my wife stood up awkwardly and looked over at me. Then she headed out of the bar. After a moment, I stood up and left as well. I found her standing in the corner of the lobby with a worried look on her face.
"I'm supposed to go back in there, they think I've just gone to the bathroom," she said quickly. She was slightly flushed and with the lip gloss and tight dress looked deliciously slutty.
"So, what's the problem?" I asked. My arousal was mounting by the second as I imagined the men dancing with my wife and feeling her braless body beneath the thin dress.
She looked at me like I'd hurt her feelings. "When I danced with that last guy ... he pulled me against him and ..." She looked down, obviously embarrassed.
"And what?" I asked. I felt a surge of excitement.
"I felt him," she said. "He was, you know ..."
My cock throbbed. "He was what?" I hissed.
She looked away and shrugged her shoulders. "Down there ... he was stiff." She patted down the front of her dress over her hips, as though to get rid of the feeling.
"Go back to them," I said quickly, my mind racing as I considered a change of plan. I handed her the room keys. "I'm going back up to the room. I'll get other keys from the front desk. I want you to invite those guys back up there. Don't tell them we're married, but tell them I'm there so they're not surprised. Tell them I'm just a friend. I'll be waiting for you."
Lisa looked at me, again with pleading eyes. "No, Brian, please don't."
I looked again down at the profile of her nipples pushing out of her dress. I bent down slightly and whispered into her ear: "You're excited by this, I can see it." She turned away, and then I quickly turned and left.
Twenty minutes later, I heard keys turning in the door of our hotel room. I put down my drink and stood up. My hands were trembling.
Lisa came in first. "Hi, Jim," she said, without enthusiasm. "I brought along some friends for ... a party." She tried to smile but I could see she was feeling awkward.
Three men came in behind her. They smiled tentatively.
"Great," I said, trying to put on some charm. This was all perfectly normal, I told myself. "The more the merrier."
Lisa sat down on the sofa. One of the men sat beside her. He looked a little older, with a slight paunch and thinning hair. The second guy sat in an armchair beside the bed. He was tall and slim. The third guy remained standing beside the door. He was younger than the others and didn't look very comfortable. I figured he'd been talked into coming up but wasn't really too keen on it.
"Who wants a drink?" I asked, trying to keep it cheery. "Lisa?"
My wife nodded. I looked at the guy beside her on the sofa and raised my eyebrows.
"Sure, thanks," he said. "I'll have a gin and tonic."
"Make that two," said the tall guy in the armchair. He smiled at me, then looked at Lisa, his gaze moving quickly over her chest and legs.
"How about you?" I said to the young guy standing by the door.
"No thanks, I'm okay," he said. He was pretty nervous and looked down at the floor a lot.
"You sure?" I asked. "There's plenty here. After all, we're having a party."
He shook his head. A bit of a dud, I thought, but that's okay. The other guys were starting to relax.
I stepped over to the stereo and put on some soft music. Then I went to the sofa and offered my hand to my wife. She took it and stood up. We started to dance slowly.
I could smell the booze on her breath and her eyes were slightly bloodshot. I rested one hand on her hip and stroked her gently. She closed her eyes. We danced for a couple of minutes while the other guys watched and sipped at their drinks.
As the song ended, I reached up and undid the clasp at the top of the zipper of her dress. She stiffened for a moment in my arms, but then seemed to let out a deep breath.
"Who's next?" I asked.
The older guy on the sofa looked at his companion in the armchair, then stood up. The young guy had stepped back into the shadows near the door and was watching intently, but made no move to take a more active role.
"It would be a pleasure," the older guy said, and stepped up to my wife. They started to dance as the music resumed. He had a hand on her hip and moved her back and forth to the music. I watched the zipper slowly open, but I couldn't tell if anyone else noticed what was happening.
By the time the tall guy stood up to dance with my wife, the zipper was about a third of the way down. There was no missing it now. As they danced, he pulled her close to him, and when the song ended, he gently tugged the zipper all the way down, smiling at her.
The music started up again, but nobody moved at first. My wife looked at me with a pleading look on her face. I stared at her for a moment.
"Why don't you give us a little show?" I said. "Would you do that for us, honey?"
She closed her eyes and lowered her head. After a moment, she started to sway her hips gently to the music and lifted her hands behind her head. She kept her eyes closed. Her face was flushed. I thought of how she'd been ashamed by her own arousal at the thought of showing off to other men. My cock was throbbing and I felt a little weak in the knees.
She turned herself slowly so that all of us could see her. Then she lowered her arms and slipped the straps of her dress off of her shoulders. They fell loose against her arms but the dress was too tight around her breasts to fall any further.
The tall guy moved in front of her and started to sway in rhythm with my wife, smiling at her. She seemed to sense his presence and opened her eyes. She looked up at him and held his gaze. He stopped smiling abruptly, and then looked down at her breasts pushing out the front of her dress.
With both hands he took the top of her dress and slowly pulled it down. They looked into each other's eyes as the material slipped ever lower. When it reached her stiff nipples, he had to pull harder to get it off, and then her breasts suddenly sprang free, wobbling from side to side, as the top of her dress fell over her hips.
I thought I was going to ejaculate right then and there. My wife continued to sway slowly, the motion causing her boobs to bobble gently back and forth. She was staring into the man's face as he gazed at her nakedness. Suddenly she reached up and took his head in her hands, pulling his face down to hers and kissing him passionately, mouth open, tongue searching. I could hardly breathe.
He responded by roughly squeezing her tits while pushing his tongue deep into her mouth. She moaned quietly. He pushed his hips against hers. They continued this tight embrace for a few moments until my wife pushed him away.
Then she turned to the other man and, sliding her hands under the dress around her waist, slowly began to pull it off of her hips. Her panty tops appeared, then the bottom of her round pink bum as the dress finally slid off and fell to the floor. Her panty-clad bum shuddered as the tension was released. She stepped out of the dress and kicked it aside with her high-heeled shoes.
Then she stepped up to the other man, put her hands on his shoulders and began to dance. She was staring him in the face, almost belligerently, I thought. He put his hands on her hips and started to match her movements, smiling broadly down at her.
My wife soon began to push her hips against his, still looking him in the face. His smile started to fade and I could see color rising in his cheeks. He slid his hands down to the tops of her panties and started to roll them off her hips. Lisa put her head back and closed her eyes as he knelt down in front of her and slid her panties slowly over her full thighs. Then they were off.
She stepped away from the man and began to dance again. This time, she fixed me with her gaze. Look what you've done, her expression seemed to say to me. Her dancing became more and more lurid until she was writhing like a stripper.
I approached her, my heart pounding in my chest. I reached out to hold her breasts but she held up one arm to block me. I stepped closer, intending to embrace her, but she turned her face away from me. She continued her sinuous movements but looked at the other two men. The young guy by the door looked like he hadn't moved a muscle since my wife had begun to dance.
Again, I reached out to touch her. She crossed her arms over her breasts, squeezing the flesh together. I glanced at the others. One was intently watching my wife's body. The other had a smile on his face. He understood what was happening, that this was my wife who was now denying her husband access to her body. I felt a strange and disturbing mix of humiliation and thrilling arousal.
Things moved quickly after that. As I stepped back, the older guy and the tall one undressed and approached my wife like hungry predators, their erections bouncing stiffly. One kissed her roughly on the mouth and she responded eagerly, moaning quietly, while the second began to rub himself up against her plump bum.
Lisa pushed the man in front over to the sofa, where he sat down. Then she slowly lowered herself onto his rigid cock. He drew in his breath sharply as he slid into her, at the same time grasping her large breasts and squeezing them hard.
"Jesus," he gasped.
"Kiss me," Lisa said, her voice choked with lust.
The man on the sofa sat up to bury his face in my wife's bosom, holding her hips in both hands. She pulled his head tightly against her tits, and began to ride slowly up and down on his erection. The sound of her wetness sliding over his rigid member was audible over the soft music that continued to play.
Then she reached down and turned his face to hers, and kissed him deeply on the mouth.
The other man had followed them over to the sofa and, as his buddy began to thrust up into my wife, he nudged his throbbing cock against her bum. Lisa interrupted her kiss to look over her shoulder. She shook her head, then nodded for him to move around to the other side of the sofa.
When he had moved, he stood facing my wife with his erection, long and straight, jutting toward her face. She glanced over at me, her face flushed, then turned and leaned forward, putting her hands on the back of the sofa. The man under her slid back down but continued to pump his cock into her wetness. Then she opened her mouth and took the long shaft slowly between her glossed lips.
The man behind the sofa threw his head back and almost laughed with pleasure. Lisa was looking up at him, her lips tightly wrapped around his hard-on. The man beneath her was looking up at her, squeezing her breasts and then letting them swing free.
My wife began to softly moan again as the man beneath her pumped even more furiously into her. It was clear that he was approaching an orgasm. She let the other man's cock pop free from her mouth. It was glistening.
Again she looked at me, then down at the man on the sofa. "I want you to cum inside me," she said hoarsely. "Please."
He responded immediately, tightening his grip on her hips and pushing up more vigorously. He closed his eyes and grunted. I could hear my wife's breathing speed up as she bounced on his thrusting hips. Her breasts were bouncing wildly.
Lisa leaned forward and again took the other man's erection into her mouth. He began to push himself rhythmically into her face. She was breathing loudly through her nose.
Then the other man moaned and arched his back, holding my wife suspended above him, his eyes tightly shut. "I'm there!" He almost shouted it out. "It's ... I'm shooting into you!"
A high-pitched, panting moan came from my wife's throat. I could see she was almost in a frenzy of arousal. She threw her head back, releasing the other man's cock from her lips. I could see semen falling from the end of his erection, a large drop of it on my wife's lower lip. He looked down and gasped, wrapping his hand around his twitching hard-on and stroking himself frantically.
Lisa uttered a loud, low moan as her orgasm swept over her. She grasped her breasts in both hands and squeezed her stiff nipples. The man she was riding remained rigid on the sofa, a look almost of pain on his face as he filled her with his sperm.
The other man sort of growled as he released a long stream of sperm from his cock. It shot against my wife's throat. A second blast erupted from him almost immediately, then a third.
My wife leaned forward again and took his cock into her mouth. He pulled his hand away and began to eagerly thrust himself into her warm and welcoming mouth, emptying the remains of his ejaculation into her throat. I stood transfixed as she swallowed hungrily.
The man below finally relaxed and fell slowly back onto the sofa, still squeezing my wife's firm rump.
"You're fuckin' beautiful," he whispered, panting. "Just incredible."
The other man also stood back, his long cock plopping out of my wife's mouth. I could see his sperm at the corner of her mouth, and several large dollops slowly sliding down between her breasts. She lifted a finger and wiped her face. Looking over at me, she put the finger in her mouth and sucked it clean.
"Whew," he said, smiling again. "That was ... awesome." Slowly, he headed off towards the bathroom.
My wife sat back as the man on the sofa withdrew from her, his shrinking shaft streaked with semen. I caught a glimpse of his sperm on my wife's pubic hair. She sat down beside him, and leaned into him. He put his arm around her shoulder, his hand falling onto one breast. He gave it an affectionate squeeze and smiled down at her. They kissed.
My cock was now iron hard, my feelings in complete chaos. Aroused beyond my wildest imagination, humiliated at being denied by my wife, jealous of the men for the intimacy they shared with her, angry at myself for having created this insane situation.
The other man returned from the bathroom and gave a small towel to my wife, who began to wipe the sperm from her chest. Then he started to get dressed.
When Lisa was finished, she looked over at me. There was a strange look of aggression on her flushed face.
"What about you?" she said. "Do you want me, too, or are you happy just to watch?"
I didn't know what to say. I took a step closer to her. The front of my pants was bulging. I unbuckled by pants and pulled them down. My cock leapt up, pointing at the ceiling, pulsing with my heart beat. I felt like I was in a dream.
The guy beside my wife whistled, then stood up and walked over to his clothes, in a heap on the floor. He started to get dressed, too. The tall guy looked over as he was putting on his shoes and smiled.
Then my wife turned to the young guy standing by the door. She motioned for him to come over.
After a moment's hesitation, he walked to the sofa. Lisa patted the cushion beside her and he sat down, obedient.
"Don't you want to touch me?" she asked him gently. "Don't you find me desirable?" She ran a hand down one side of her body, over her thigh and then onto his lap.
He stiffened at her touch. He was staring down at her full breasts. The older guy laughed as he straightened his tie. "Not what you expected, Ron, is it?"
The tall guy joined in. "Be brave, boy."
"It's ok," Lisa said to him quietly. "You can touch me if you want."
The young guy reached over and ran a hand awkwardly over my wife's breast. She looked up at him and I had the feeling she was genuinely touched by his shyness.
She reached up and pulled his head down, kissing him gently on the mouth. He hesitated for a moment before kissing her back. It was awkward at first, but slowly their kisses turned more passionate and intense. They seemed oblivious to the rest of us.
My excitement was peaking. I looked down at my throbbing erection. I didn't know what to do.
The young guy had resumed his fondling of my wife's breasts, now with more enthusiasm. They continued to kiss as my wife helped him out of his clothes, his cock soon springing up, no less rigid than my own.
Without breaking their embrace, my wife began to gently stroke the young guy's erection. Their tongues drove deep into each other's mouths as the man slowly thrust his hips up to meet the downward stroke of my wife's hand on his iron-hard cock.
When he began to moan and push up with more urgency, my wife finally broke off their kiss. They both looked down at his twitching cock. He had a look of surprise on his face, and his eyes popped open even wider as my wife bent down and took his hard cock into her mouth.
"No, don't," he said. He tried to pull himself back, but my wife simply moved lower, taking him further into her mouth.
He breathed in sharply though his nose and then his face went red. My wife murmured encouraging sounds as he gasped, and then released himself. He moaned loudly as my wife's moist lips moved up and down over his shaft. She was noisily swallowing everything he pumped into her.
I wanted desperately to cum, but saw no way to participate. The young guy continued to moan and thrust his hips up and my wife continued to make small cooing sounds of encouragement and satisfaction. A film of semen was forming on his glistening shaft as it pumped in and out of my wife's mouth.
Finally, it was over. The young man seemed terribly embarrassed over what had happened and quickly got up. The other two guys stood by the door, already fully dressed. They were waiting to go. When the young guy had pulled his pants up and half tucked in his shirt, all three were out the door.
My wife sat back again on the sofa, daubing the towel around the corners of her mouth. I stood over her, my raging erection pumping with every heartbeat. I had never desired her more in my life.
She looked up at me and gave me a strange half smile. I couldn't tell if she was accusing me or inviting me. Then she lay back, lifted her arms over head and slowly parted her thighs.
I almost leapt onto her, plunging my cock into her soaking wet slit, tightly grasping her wrists, as though I were assaulting her. She continued to smile at me in that ambivalent way as I thrust madly into her, cumming immediately and with an intensity I had never before experienced.
My whole body was consumed with a burning lust unlike anything I had ever known. I was convulsed by feelings of lust, anger, sadness, jealousy. I angrily shouted out her name as I thrust into her one last time, then collapsed beside her.
I don't know how long it took me to recover, but when I did, I felt Lisa's hand gently stroking my head.
I looked up at her. She was smiling at me.
"Did that make you happy?" she asked. "Is that what you wanted?"
I closed my eyes and tried to take stock of my feelings. Was I happy? I murmured something unintelligible, then asked her how she felt.
"Fine," she whispered. "Good." She was lying, that was clear.
After a moment, she said. "I've just been used by four men. How could I not be happy?" The sarcasm in her voice was intense.
I had to defend myself now. "You enjoyed it," I said. "You wanted them. Don't pretend it was otherwise." I was starting to get angry. "How do you think that makes me feel?"
Lisa looked at me, incredulous. Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
We had crossed a boundary, like running someone over with your car, a terrible mistake that can never be taken back.
"Bob?" Lisa said. I looked up at her. Her naked breasts swelled with her breathing. She was smiling that half smile again.
She didn't say anything more. I knew what she was thinking, and I knew we would do this all again, and more. My fantasy, I realized, had just become my real life.
End of Story
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