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If you are not 18 or over, well - I encourage your curiosity, but please pursue it elsewhere...this story is for adults only. Thanks.
Part I
A memoir/story - a reminiscence. I suppose it fits into the "wife watching" category in a way - though I would never have thought of that until just now. It's mostly just a remembrance...And it is my first post.
Comments or questions are welcome....I can spot a flame a mile away, and I don't read them before I trash them, so don't bother. Constructive criticism is always welcome. (Take me, use me, lick me, eat me, fuck me, whip me.....EDIT MEEEEE!!)
Part I
I was barely 18....at least I think my birthday had passed. I was young, and though I'd gotten laid the first time when I was 14, I was just then really coming into my own sexually. I had more than one really important relationship going, all of them with more or less understanding women...all but one older than me. And I suppose my hormone-driven ego was cranking right along. Pretty full of myself.
But SHE had me by the balls, plain and simple. She had worked for a while at the bookstore where I did. Early thirties, slender, graceful, with the exaggerated posture and poise of a dancer, although she wasn't one. She just moved well and carried herself with pride. Dark, especially her hair and eyes, but all of her. Her ancestry was Russian and French. She had a soft, deep sense of humor; she seemed to have read everything. She was surprisingly raunchy, but in a sort of quiet way - a way that was actually a form of flirting. She would make a sexual pun or double-entendre and just check with a subtle glance to see if you got it...and smile with pleasure to see that you had. She would treat you as a co-conspirator in her naughtiness. She would especially do this when she had been slyly teasing one of the many customers or loiterers she attracted to our end of the store....she toyed with them, driving them, and me, completely nuts. "Here comes one of my regulars," she'd murmur as one of the earnest young intellectuals made his way up the aisle, trying to look uninterested, preoccupied. Or she'd whisper "Wonder what's on HIS highly educated little mind today?"
We had only worked together for a brief while when she began to casually place a hand on my leg or arm or shoulder. She would sometimes seem "little-girlish" with me, but only subtly. I doubt that anyone else who worked there could see that she was coming on to me. In fact, they would have thought I was flattering myself if I had said anything. I mean, she was nearly twice my age, gorgeous in sophisticated in a near-bohemian way, and I was this bearded young buck. But I knew. Or suspected. Hell, I didn't know what to think. I was becoming obsessed as only a brand new man can be. She was just too delicious. Was I kidding myself? No. Absolutely not. Maybe. Definitely. Oh, for Christ's sake...
Soon there were lunches. My invitation. She said no the first time I asked her if she'd like to join me for lunch, but it was a very studied "no."
She paused a long time, looking into my eyes before saying, "no, I don't think so...." and let her voice trail off as a slight smile crossed her face. She enjoyed saying no to me! Put her hand on my goddamn THIGH when she said no to me.
But somehow, as nonchalantly as I could, but terrified I'd come across like one of her ass hole suitors, I managed to ask her again, and she agreed. We started having lunch together nearly every day. And then I told her I was going to a movie after work, and she asked with whom, and I said no one, just love this guy's films...we have some of the screenplays back in Film and Theater.... We talked for a long while about his film, looked over some of the screenplays together, talked about the ones we'd both seen...then she just invited herself along.
She let me listen to her calling her husband to tell him she'd would be home late, that she and "a friend" were going to a movie. She glanced at me and smiled slightly as she said "friend." Agony.
"No, darling, you stay home.....well, if it's good I won't mind seeing again with you sometime....right. And we'll probably stop somewhere for a bite afterwards.....love you too."
It was the beginning of a long seduction. I wanted it to be a seduction of her by me, but of course it wasn't. I learned a lot.
The movies after work became sort of a regular thing. I decided just to try and set my sexual desire for her aside, at least while I waited for some sort of flash of insight that would make her mine. I rationalized it in a very high-minded way: she is married. I've got plenty of opportunities for sex with women who don't carry that particular baggage, and besides, it's dishonest. Hah! It was equally dishonest to pretend that I didn't want her. But that's life when you're seventeen, eighteen years old.
We were great spiritual partners for one another. We had a passion for poetry, for films, for art, for the outdoors....it was sooo good to be together. Off and on I would see that we were in a sort of love. It began to be ok that we didn't sleep together. In fact, we started to talk about our relationships - she about her marriage, me about my girlfriends and the occasional one-nighter. Once she asked me if I ever went out after being out with her, and I honestly told her yes. Had I ever gone out and had sex after being out with her? Yes. She looked down at her napkin, and I thought she looked a little flushed under her golden skin. When she looked up, she was flushed, and her eyes had a twinkle...tears?
She smiled tenderly, and said simply "Good. I like that." She paused again. "Sometimes after we go out, I go home and I....I have to um...."
The waiter came and broke the spell. I didn't know what to make of it all: wasn't as bright as everyone thought I was! Some say that I'm still as oblivious about sexual matters now as I was then.....or that I'm better at seeing other people's stuff than my own.
Three times, I think it was, her husband joined us for lunch. First time, he was sort of short with me. I was, at least, smart enough to be flattered. I was a threat to a 35 year-old husband! But her willingness to let him join us was unnerving. Was I that benign? Was I so young, such a sexual irrelevancy that it was "safe" to hang out with me and her husband together. It was gratifying that HE didn't think so.
But the second time, I realized I really sort of liked the guy. He was funny. He was smart. He looked cool. He seemed to really lover her. He treated her really well. Better than I did, actually. I was always teasing her about things, being sort of sarcastic ... he was soft and kind with her, and she soaked it up. I had to admit that I liked him, and I liked them together. I was more tortured than ever. Because however I idealized him and their marriage, however I tried to "platonize" our relationship, there were her dark, deep, naughty eyes, her slender fingers, her full, smiling lips, the crease in her brow when she frowned (which she did a lot)....her absolutely sculptural collar bones, her soft, jet hair, her breasts, not large, just perfect and full, ripe....her round hips as she walked away on her long legs, arm-in-arm with her husband, turning on a perfect ankle to surreptitiously smile over her shoulder at me....I believed it was some sort of love that I saw in her smile.
She invited me to her place for dinner. When the night came, we went straight from work, I on my motorcycle, she in her car. It was a great place...they'd remodeled an urban townhouse before it was popular to do so....a carpenter friend had helped them with the design, and shown them how to do much of the work themselves. And it was beautiful, full of pottery and soft lighting and art. They were affluent - that had been obvious from the casual but expensive clothes she wore, and the occasional piece of jewelry. She worked because she liked to, and it gave her an escape from her doctoral work and her teaching fellowship. She lit candles, brought drinks over to the couch where I sat, and settled in next to me...we chatted a bit about the day at work and eventually I asked when Tim would be home.
"He's out of town on business...."
I nearly dropped my drink. She adjusted herself on the couch, letting her shoes drop to the floor, tucking her long legs up under her as she looked at me over the rim of her glass..."Are you disappointed?"
No, of course not it's fine with me....it was too good to be true, but I was so flustered, I couldn't help trying to be cool.....I started trying to chat about where he was. The conversation just stalled and sat there, until she said "Let's talk about him after dinner."
She slowly slipped her feet back into her shoes - fairly serious fuck me pumps - and liquidly made her way to the kitchen. After a few moments I followed. We nearly collided in the passage between the dining room and the kitchen, and she had just reached for the light switch. The kitchen light went out, and we were face to face in the candlelight. I realized, oddly, that even with her heels on, I had a good two inches on her. I wiped the thought from my mind as she simply rose up and put her soft lips to mine. That's all that was touching: our lips. Her breasts where painfully close to my chest. Her hand on the wall switch was near my face....her smell - God, her smell! - was all around me, climbing down into me.
Her tongue touched mine, and for a moment, I thought I would grab her and take her right there on the floor. In truth, I was too flustered, too excited to know what to do. I was trembling, and so was she. We broke our kiss after a long while, and looked at each other....she was smiling, her eyes sparkling, and shaking her head from side to side as if in wonder. I smiled too, and soon we were holding each other and laughing.
We recovered and shared another kiss. Hot, wet and hungry. When we came up for air, I said something suave like "so now, what?" and she said "I'm not sure. I don't know where this all going, but whatever comes next, I don't want to do it on an empty stomach!"
We ate in near silence....it was some sort of pasta I'd never had. After dinner, we returned to the couch.
"Mick, do you want to stay with me tonight?"
"You know I do." A long pause as she looked into my eyes.
"Are you sure?"
"Sure I'm sure." I leaned in and kissed her deeply, and wonder of wonders! I touched her breast through her light blouse...she gasped softly into my mouth, and pressed her lips tighter to mine, her tongue probing past mine as her hand on the back of my head pulled me closer.
"I want us to do something different tonight....something really special...I promise you'll like it....and it's something I really, really, want. I mean for us. I want to share something special with you. Just trust me tonight..." She murmured these words softly into my neck and my ear and we returned to our kissing.
She silently rose and led me to her bedroom...their bedroom, I dimly thought. She gently pushed my hands away when I reached for her, and with a deliberately wicked smile, she began to draw my shirt up over my chest, kissing up to my nipples as she went. I pulled the shirt the rest of the way up and off, and she began to massage my stiff cock through my jeans as she licked and sniffed and sucked at my chest and my armpits. I tried to put my arms around her, but she firmly brought my hands down to my own hips as she worked at my button fly and belt. My cock sprung forth as she lowered my briefs and she let it brush her cheek as she went down sliding my jeans and underwear down to my ankles. I stepped out of them as she knelt there helping, her breath on my thighs.
She tried to rise, but my hands on her head were firm - or did they plead? She gave in, and settled on her knees, looking up at me....so serious now, my laughing lady. So serious and so inquiring as she sought my eyes....she stroked me and searched my face from down there, then she examined my cock and balls, all the while stroking and holding....then she looked back up into my eyes as she opened brought her soft, full lips to the wet tip of my cock. Her tongue flicked out, but her eyes remained on mine...she drew my clear fluid into her mouth and seemed to swallow before pressing my cock to her lips, dragging it over their softness, harvesting more pre-cum with her tongue. Still staring into my eyes with that inquisitive look, she used my cockhead to press her lips open, and took the head into her hot mouth, her tongue softly stroking the underside of it.
With a groan, she finally broke eye contact and took several inches of me into her mouth holding onto my thighs as I gently held her head. She sucked and pumped at me for what seemed several minutes...could she feel how my knees were shaking?....and then she pulled away from my penis, breathing heavily, holding my length against her cheek, kissing into my pubic hair, and drawing my balls forward in her hand to kiss as her other hand held my cock......
Pt. II
"It'll be so good.....so good....," she murmured as she nuzzled me. I had to force myself to listen, to concentrate on her words. She was telling me something. "You just have to trust me, just trust me to make it good..."
Her voice was muffled against my scrotum, and the soft vibration of her voice, her breath, her elegant hand still stroking my length....I had to strain to understand what she was saying. Why was she saying this?
"Just tell me you'll trust me...do you S______? Do you trust me to make it good for you? For us?"
I looked down and saw that her face was turned up to mine. She was nearly childlike, her eyes had the darkness and the openness of a child who wants so to be taken up and loved. I didn't know what it was that scared and thrilled me in her just then, but now I do: it was a need that, had I known how deep it went, would have been more than my half-man soul could have faced. But I was a vain boy - everyone had always thought I was older than I was, especially me.
"Trust me, S_____.....you have to trust me and it'll be good....mmmm.....so good...." There was no seduction in her voice, just longing, so sincere it could break a heart, break it open.
I drew her up as a man would, by her upper arms. I had felt my strength with girls, but now I was feeling my power with a woman. I drew her up to me, and kissed her soft lips, warm, slick and puffy from their tender work on my cock. She yielded so sweetly....became almost small as I held her arms in my hands and her head tilted back to take my tongue into her throat.
On the bed, her yielding was gone. We were partners, playing in the waves, nearly knocked silly by what was washing over us. Pulling each other back, sliding over each other as clothes fell away and our breath surged. I wish I could tell you what she wore...usually I'm eager to savor peeling away layers of mystery and clothing, but I truly don't know. Maybe she undressed herself as I lost myself in her spicy smells and her strange textures. I know she spoke, but I was past listening. Her voice was just wind, birdsong, heartbeat. And my mind was veering toward the fuck, the splendid fuck. In my mind I was deep in her already, her cunt, so hot and wet, was already mine. I was in her mouth and cunt and ass between her tits and in her hair all at once, and at once was just when I wanted her I wanted her at once, all at once....I would tell you what I "did to her" and what she "did to me," in the ancient tradition of these tales, but god help me I just don't know, and can't make it up. It was wet and it smelled of nearly everything given to us-the-undeserving, and I was alive...the earth was ours and it was all over us.
Whew. I'm back now.
Sorry. The thing is this: all of a sudden, everything stopped except the tripping of my heart and the throbbing of my cock. The groaning and squealing and growling had stopped. She was suddenly straddling me forcefully, and leaning over me, holding my face, staring into my eyes, a smile of disbelief on her glowing face. She was seated on my belly, my ribs clenched between her thighs, my face held in her hands, my eyes held fast in hers.
And she said it again...her breath ragged and her voice shaking: "Will you trust me? You do, don't you? You know how I love you, don't you?" (She said "how I love you," not "how much I love you" - "how I love you" - for some reason that stuck in my mind.)
I could only nod yes. I don't know if I really trusted her. I think "yes" and "no" were maybe the only answers I knew back then. "Yes, I do, I trust you," I nodded silently as my chest heaved and my wet cock touched her ass just above the crack...the spot I now felt with my fingers and found downy, soft. God, yes, sure, I trust you, just let me fuck you and fuck you and fuck you.
She produced a loop of cloth - it was a necktie - classic, no? Its ends were knotted together to form one big loop. She gave it a a few twists and put the smaller loop she'd formed over my wrist. Hah. She'd done this before....
"See.....it comes right off....all you do is a little twist, and you're free. See?" She hooked the other end over some feature of the headboard, and did likewise with the other wrist, al the while working her amazing ass over my lower belly, her ass crack and pubic hair pressing the length of me, rolling my cock against my own hard belly.
And so I was tied. Sort of. It was true that with a twist of my wrist I'd be free. Was it bondage? Hardly. I gripped the cloth in my hands and held on tight...good God! Her wetness was drying on my fingers.
She slid down and my feet were in her hands, her back to me, her ass still in touch with my cock. And then my feet were tied.
She wiggled backward up my body, and her ass and sopping cunt were there, there to lick...and I strained up into her and heard her gasp as her lips opened to my tongue...I tongued her open like lifting an oyster to swallow, and she settled onto me as her hot mouth took my cock. Took it for hers, her head bobbing but in circles, like a child who wants to get dizzy, but slower. It was a sweet, slightly savage sucking, and I felt teeth and rough tongue, and slippery lips and clutching throat.
And then she was rearing up....my cock was rocking in the air....she was over me, her hands on my belly, her ass and puss pressed to my face as I ate there and ate there like some crazy-assed squirrel with the last and biggest nut.
And beyond the sound of my own feasting I heard her say "Isn't he beautiful...isn't he just too beautiful? Oh god, he's so good...I told you he'd be like this...."
Part III: Some Firsts for Me...
At first I thought she was talking to my cock! I nearly laughed as I hungrily lapped at her. In fact, the sheer craziness of it filled me with happiness...my crazy lover...talking about me to my cock!
But that was just for the briefest of moments....I continued to probe deeper into her sweet core with my tongue, and she never ceased the subtle undulation of her hips over my face.
I heard her again:
"Come on, baby....do it for me....I want to see you suck him for me, do it, baby...Pleease, Timmy....for me...."
It was her husband. For a moment, I considered giving my wrists the simple twist it would have taken to be free. I could be out of here in less than a minute, and on my way back to the world.
But I heard her yet again:
"Look at it, Timmy...look how big and hard and smooth...."
And I felt her again: she made a sort of circle with her fingertips - like Stonehenge or something - and she firmly massaged her fingertips into the flesh at the base of my penis, deeply probing there drawing the flesh up toward the base of my penis, stroking deeply into the part of my cock that is hidden inside of me, the inner cock...drawing it up toward the outer cock. (If you doubt that there is an inner cock, check it out. The human penis, when erect, often extends far back into the body.) She milked at it steadily as she crooned to her husband. I felt her take me into her mouth. OR WAS IT HIM!? No, she drew my cock out of her mouth and continued coaxing him.
"I know you want this. I know you want to suck him. And I want it. I want him to feel my husband's mouth on his cock. I want you to taste my lover's sperm. Come to me, baby. Come suck him with me."
And suddenly my cock was surrounded with warmth and wetness. A hot mouth made wet contact with the underside of my cock as another slid over the top of it. Then it was as if they were trying to kiss each other around my cock, and their tongues chased each other around the shaft like kids playing around the trunk of a playground tree...
I could feel her gentle laughter as they both knelt - him between my thighs, and her over my face - and made love to each other and me. I wanted more than anything to free my hands, not to flee, but to hold on to her hips above me, to hug her wet, sloppy cunt to my face. But I did not twist free. It would have been easy, but I remained tied and imagined myself helpless, a passive recipient of this impossible pleasure.
And then I felt her shift her weight a bit, and grasp my cock in her hand. I could hear more clearly now. She stroked me rhythmically as she urged him on.
"Take him in, Timmy...take him deep. Let him fuck your mouth, honey. Come on, for me. For him. Take that beautiful hard cock and suck him."
I'm pretty sure that as she held the base of my cock in one hand, she pushed his head down over me with her other hand, because ... well, it just felt like that. I never once looked down there. Never saw him. But she pushed his face down onto my cock and milked at me with her free hand as she guided me into his mouth and him onto my cock.
And I am pretty sure she was pushing him up and down on me, because the rhythm with which he slid up and down on me was her rhythm, the rhythm of her hips, of her tongue, of our lovemaking, of our fucking...it had begun with that first kiss, and had continued uninterrupted, faster or slower, it was her rhythm. I pictured then, as I picture now, her gaze as she "forced" her husband to suck her lover, as she watched his lips stretch and slide over my cock, as she watched his nostrils flare for breath, as she watched his throat contract when she pushed him down hard, and he gagged a bit as his lips neared her fingers where she held me. I wonder if there were tears in his eyes, from gagging, maybe. She held a fistful of cock and was forcing it down her husbands throat, a little roughly, but it was still full of love - not so much of him or of me, but of what were doing - love of what she was experiencing.
But soon, the rhythm was established and she fondled my balls for a moment, cooing something to him as he continued to fellate me, I could tell she was whispering into his ear.
Suddenly, wrenchingly, the sweet, wet darkness that had surrounded me, isolated me from them as I licked her, hidden me, as vulnerable as I was - suddenly it was gone as she reversed herself over me, and fell to kissing my lips, my neck, my ears, all the while babbling "thank you, S________, thank you, oh god, it's so beautiful...tell me it's ok...tell me it's good, tell me, baby..."
I said nothing, but I kissed her as deeply as I could without freeing myself and grabbing her, and I slid my cunt-slick tongue into her hungry mouth as her husband continued to labor his mouth over my flesh.
He was into it now. He held me in both hands, I guess to limit the depth when I bucked up into his mouth - which was increasingly often, as my heat built. I could feel his tongue working wildly at the top of my cock when he would rise up, and I would feel his tight throat when he came down on me.
Her puss was wetly pressed against my belly again as she held my face in her hands and feverishly sucked at my tongue.
In moments I was beginning to come, and she must have felt me beginning to heave under her. For a moment, her excitement just put her over the edge...she pulled away from our kiss, and ecstatic expression on her face as she momentarily rose up and could not decide what to do, where to be. She frantically looked from my face to my cock, and back again....then she turned and her puss came down to my ravenous mouth again, and she was there with him, helping him, and when he realized that my crisis was immanent, he pulled away, but she FORCED him back. He closed his mouth and it hurt slightly as she pushed his clamped lips against my sensitive cockhead; but finally he relented and his mouth swooped down over me once again, and I began to come.
My first spurt must have filled his mouth, because I could feel a huge amount of wetness fall down the shaft onto their hands and my balls. The next one, I felt arcing up onto my belly and chest, and she squealed her breathless delight. The next splashed into her throat as she again engulfed me herself. And then she pulled his face to me again and then they were both licking me, and she put me in his mouth as I shrank...he suckled there like a child and she kissed and stroked his face and my cock...and then he was gone. I'd heard him sigh, moan, even swallow - but he didn't speak.
She crawled up and kissed me softly with her spermy-sweet lips and tongue. She melted onto me now, serene and languid, small movements against me carried forth that rhythm, slower now, and slower still. Her face on my neck and her sigh was from deep inside.
I believe we slept.
I awoke a little while later with her untying my "bonds." She whispered more thanks, and kissed each wrist...she left my ankles tied. With a twitch of my cock, I realized there would be more.
"I won't ask you if it was good. You don't have to share that with me. But it was so good for me, S_____ - so, so good. I came so much, and so hard. God, it was good."
I said nothing, which was becoming a habit. She began to stroke me everywhere, as my arms regained their strength and my hands found her hair, her cheek, her throat, her breasts, and then I was sitting up, pulling her down onto me, and we were fucking and fucking. I was deep in her, and she just settled down onto me, as we sat facing each other, our arms and legs around each other. My fingers found her ass, and wet with her puss, they easily worked into her and she began to come, one of those long, deep, from- the-core orgasms, the one that surprises or even scares you a little. She didn't work up and down on me, and I did not stroke in and out of her. I stayed in her as deep as I could be and for a long, long while, we stayed that way, just slowly grinding ourselves together and she came and came. I think she wept as I played one last wet song deep into her cunt and we slept again. As I drifted off, I remember wondering if he was in the room, or if he would return.
[Enough of this for me now. There was going to be more - we were involved for quite some time, as these things go, so there's more to tell - but not now. It has been many years since she first tugged at my ponytail in the stockroom and made me wonder if it could really happen. I have no idea where she is or what she is doing. Maybe she lurks in here from time to time...maybe HE does. Who knows?]