Friday, 15 April 2016


I have always wanted my wife Priscilla to do a threesome with one of our friends, but whereas it came close a few times, it never happened. She always broke it off at the last moment, "Oh Bobbie," she'd say, "how can I face him tomorrow?" So it never happened! That is... it never happened until that fateful summer. We were young, married about a year; the apartment was small, our bedroom, a small guestroom and a living- dining-kitchen combo. Tom moved into the guestroom in June and that started an unbelievably sensuous summer. Lovemaking was an immediate problem... the walls were paper-thin! Our secondhand bed creaked and Priss strangled her orgasms with her face pressed into the pillow. "My God, Bobbie... he'll hear me... I know he will..." she'd pant. "Honey, the whole world knows we make love at night." "But the bed creaks so... oh God..." But somehow, the idea of him hearing my wife cum was exciting and I'd urge her into a grunting climax. She'd bite the pillow and toss her hips frantically and the bed would squeak as the brain numbing feeling washed through her quivering belly. The next morning she would look at Tom with an embarrassed face, but gradually she got over it. Occasionally she would forget he was there and walk into the kitchen with her blouse off. "Oh my," she'd blush and cover her bra covered breasts as she hustled back to the bedroom. But I would say, "Priss... what's the big deal?" And little by little she relaxed. It was like pulling on the loose thread of a sweater. Her inhibitions gradually started to unravel. Being caught a few times in just her bra and panties set in motion the unraveling of her puritanical mind set. At first she used to blush if Tom caught her in just her bra on top, but fast-forward about two months, and here she is on our bed with his throbbing stiff penis slipping into her squirming belly. She's looking over her shoulder at me, her face flushes and she squeals as his penis splits her warm slippery cunt. I watch, stupefied, as they start to fuck. Priscilla lifts her knees, her curvy legs draw back toward her bottom and I see her soft pubic hair and the long pink split of her cunt stretched in a juicy clutch around his penis. I close my eyes and listen to her breathe and the steady creak... creak of our bed as they begin. But I'm ahead of the story... It started very slowly, she got used to knowing Tom could hear us making love and if occasionally he caught a glimpse of her undies... well, she would still be embarrassed, but it stopped being such a big deal. But to me it became almost an obsession, a craving to share her sexually with Tom. I think the trigger for me was when I was confronted by her initial blushing embarrassment, yet her conflicting compulsion to be sexy and flirtatious. She would look at him and her nervous throaty giggles were like liquid sex... like warm water pouring over the head of my penis. I began to experience a heady combination of jealousy and fascination that made my knees get weak and my stomach churn. My penis would swell when I watched her flirt or walk past him with her blouse open. Why did I feel jealousy and still an urge to yield sexual access to my pretty wife? ... I didn't know, but it was a nagging impulsive thought that was always lurking in my mind. They would brush past each other in the tiny kitchen and I would imagine them touching. At night we whispered about it in bed. "I'd like to see you with Tom," I'd whisper. "Oh you're silly... I-I... couldn't..." I began to have a fantasy that they made love while I was at work. I knew it wasn't so, but I got those weak- in-the-knees feelings... that anguish of betrayal and humiliation. But it was all mixed in with a sense of wild excitement. I fantasized about what she might be doing. The sensations were addictive. It's imagining the woman you love being intimate. It was an incredibly naughty act to think of Pricilla fucking someone else, especially a friend. The effect to my senses was a shock, like a hard drug. It's a sensual addiction that is hard to match; the thought of my wife's vagina entered by the penis of another man. The thought of her slipping off her panties, opening herself and submitting to an adulterous act of intercourse was enthralling. It all came head one morning when Tom was sitting with me at the kitchen table. We finished our coffee and he was just about to leave. Priss thought he was already gone and she walked into the kitchen wearing an old pajama bottom and her skimpy white bra. "Oh sorry... thought you'd left," she murmured and started back to the bedroom. I caught her hand and said, "sit down, Tom's leaving in a minute. She blushed with embarrassment, but she walked around the kitchen getting herself a coffee and then sat between us. Tom's eyes were on the swell of her breasts and the feelings rushed through me. The cleavage swelled over her bra cup and a light luminescence of pink hinted at the location of her nipples. Priscilla had no panties on under the pajama bottom and the curvy crease of her ass buns was clearly evident as she sat. Tom finished his coffee and left the apartment, probably with half a hard-on! Something about exposing her to him lit a fire in me. I took her back in the bedroom and tugged off her pajama bottoms. Looking down at her warm soft cunt I could imagine his penis touching her there. We make noisy love. Right in the middle of it I blurted it out, "Prissy, would you like to make love with Tom?" She was gasping and straining her hips and she moaned, "uh-huh, if you still want me to..." "Someday, when you're alone with him... just let it happen." "Mmmm, maybe... we'll see..." I found myself living for the adrenal rush of my utter acceptance, my sudden realization, that she was eventually going to do it. My stomach churned from the deep-seated arousal of what was certain to occur. Nothing happened for two weeks and then one day I came home and the guilt was written on her face. Tom was in the guestroom with the door closed. Priscilla wouldn't meet my eyes and she was blushing. She was pretending busyness at the sink and looked a little disheveled... hair slightly mussed... blouse only partly tucked into her skirt. I came up behind her and slipped my hands around her waist. She was warm and I could feel a little tremble in her body. I felt myself getting a hard-on. I whispered in her ear, "Sweetheart, are you sick? You feel so warm." "I-I'm fine," she said in a squeaky voice. I turned her around to face me and she buried her face in my neck, "Priss, did something happen," I whispered. "Mmmm." "You and Tom?" "Mmm." "You did it?" "Uh-huh," she murmured. "Are you OK? You feel so warm..." "We... we just finished..." "Oh God," I murmured. "Where did you...?" "On the sofa... Oh I'm sorry. Are you angry with me?" That night we talked about it for hours. The details were excruciatingly exciting. It had started with a friendly kiss, then a deeper kiss as the fascination overcame them... his hand finding its way under her skirt... her stopping it just short of her panty crotch. Then a few more kisses... feeling her breasts... easing her down on her back... fingers in her panties. She cried as she told me about it. How she came to her senses and tried to stop it... but he was between her knees... opening his belt... his penis stiff and probing. "He dropped down onto me and... and it was too late..." she sobbed. I squeezed her hand as we talked. Under the blankets my penis was stiff as a rail spike. "You didn't stop..." "Uh-huh, one of my knees was pinned up against the back of the sofa and... he... pulled the crotch of my panties aside and then... then he... did it." "He got it into you, and you fucked?" "Mmm Humm," she sobbed. "Prissy... baby, it's all right... I... told you to let it happen." Three nights later we invited him into our bed and I watched them make love. It was a lovely sight and at the same time the most un-nerving thing I ever experienced... the kissing and feeling... the few shy blushing looks over his shoulder at me. As their excitement grew, I watched them prepare to join... Priss slipping her panties down... him lifting her night gown over the ridge of her pubic hair and getting between her knees. I watched the blankets move as they adjusted their hips, moving their loins into that unmistakable position. And then her soft cry as he found her moist opening. I moved to the side a little giving Priss room to spread her legs. Her knees tented the blankets, she moved her hand into mine and I heard her long breathy gasp. I felt the telltale squeeze of her fingers on mine as his penis pressed into her. It was only their second time. The excitement was intense, it was quick, hardly two or three dozen thrusts and he grunted and tightened his arms under her back. Later alone in our bed, we made long slow passionate love, a few tears, a lot of warm kisses. When I came over her she was open and wet; the soft mouth of her vagina juicy and easy to find. My penis slid smoothly into the treasure that once was all mine... a little looser, but still snug with a warm slipperiness. I cupped a hand under my darling's butt and felt a little trickle down across her anus, and on the back of my hand, a wet spot soiling the sheet under her buttocks. It happened on and off that summer. Maybe a couple dozen times, possibly a few more. Sometimes when I came home, I could tell they had done it... She would have that quiet, almost guilty look in her eyes. Maybe a little whisker burn on her neck or the zipper of her jeans not quite zipped. Sometimes she would be warm, her face still flushed, skirt and blouse wrinkled and I would know they just finished a quick furtive fuck with her clothes on. And she would hug me, being very attentive, almost a way to ask forgiveness. A few times, late at night, I let her go from my bed to his. She would stop at the door, hesitant, a guilty look on her face, "Oh dear, are you sure you don't mind? It seems so..." But she would go and soon after I would hear it through the wall... squeaky crying sounds and bed noises that would go on for a long time. I got some kind of a strange perverted thrill out of it. I would masturbate to the sound of Prissy being fucked and imagine what she looked like at that very moment. Once I peeked and saw my wife sitting nakedly on his penis, sliding herself up and down. Her nighty covered their hips but I knew her ass was bare because her panties were on the floor. So it was a long hot summer and I worried a lot about her getting pregnant, but we got through it with a lot of exciting memories. The End

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