We had moved to a small first floor flat with two bedrooms. I worked in a seaside town forty five minutes away whilst my wife worked as a PA in a financial firm in the city we lived in. Each night she was home just before me and was usually still in her work clothes in the kitchen starting dinner.
This particular evening I walked in to be greeted by a glass of Sauvignon Blanc and a kiss. We chatted about the upcoming weekend and our hockey matches, as well as turning some thoughts to a dinner party we were going to hold for some friends in a couple of weeks time.
Dinner was served and we sat at the table and began running through our own days. Once we had got over my daily fight with journalists, the talk turned to her day. It was then she said that an average day was made more bearable by the fact she had sneaked in a masturbation session at lunchtime. Instantly I felt the familiar stirring in my groin and asked her to describe what had happened.
She had been left alone at lunchtime and had been feeling a little horny. She sat at her desk making sure all the doors around the office were shut so she could hear anyone arriving. There was also an intercom system which made everything easier from her point of view.
She pulled her chair under her desk for good measure, pulled up her skirt and slipped her hand into her panties. She said she was already damp, had no problems making her pussy wetter and quickly approached orgasm by rubbing her clit hard. She came. It was a quickie that had satisfied her urge.
When she had finished telling me her story, I reached under the table and put my hand against her panties. She was still damp from her lunchtime session and from relating the story to me. I made it clear it had turned me on but in her usual way shrugged that off and got back to the meal.
After dinner we both got changed and while she was on the phone, first to her sister and then some hockey mates, I decided to grab a quick shower. I had an early start in the morning and didn’t want to stay up too late. The shower was great and despite still feeling horny from my wife’s tale I decided to resist the temptation to masturbate there and then.
When I went back into the sitting room in just a robe, I found my wife on the settee also in her white dressing gown, wine glass in hand and watching some inane comedy on the telly. I grabbed my glass and plonked myself down in front of her, resting my back against the sofa with her legs each side of my shoulders.
We started chatting about nothing in particular when I started thinking again about my wife’s afternoon masturbation. Pretty soon my cock was hard and I gently rested my spare hand on it over my robe. Gently pressing and slyly stroking, I could feel the pleasure rising in my groin.
There was too much temptation to stop so I slid my hand beneath my robe and started stroking my cock. I was trying to make it clear to my wife that that was what I was doing, without making a big song and dance about it. I even carried on the chat we were having about the dinner party.
I was still “undercover” as my wife switched channels on the TV to a spy thriller. Suddenly I noticed a bit of heavier breathing coming from my wife as she continued discussing the dinner party. It was obvious to me she had noticed what I was doing and it was turning her on.
When you are sitting that close to someone, you get a good idea of what they are doing. I could hear movement and it was obvious she was touching her breasts. Her breathing was getting a bit more random and it was then that I heard and felt movement behind my head. She had obviously moved her hand down to her pussy. I could hear her fingers in her pubic hair, gently stroking her lips as she watched me stroke myself only feet in front of her.
I heard the tell tale sound of her opening her pussy lips and let my robe fall open to reveal my erection and the precum oozing from the end of my cock. I did this without saying a word, still trying to pretend I wasn’t doing it. Despite my own silence, my wife was beginning to murmur with pleasure as her tiny movements behind my head began to have their effect.
Her obvious masturbation was making me as horny as hell and I decided to put on a show. I made sure my strokes were long and slow, giving her a chance to see what I really did when I was on my own. Immediately my wife responded with more vigor, rubbing her pussy faster and harder behind me.
By now my cock was standing at ninety degrees and pointing high to the ceiling. Behind me my wife was continuing to increase the intensity of her rubbing. Not only could I hear that but I could smell her juices as she slipped a finger or two inside her. This made her gasp and almost made me come at the thought.
She wasn’t quite there so I slowed down and waited for her to catch up. By now we were both breathing hard, both of us trying to focus on the TV screen while masturbating together in our front room. It was almost as though we weren’t doing it.
I picked the tell tale signs of approaching orgasm from behind me. The breathing, the shakes, the increasing speed and finally the gasps as the orgasm approached. I knew she was close so I let mine come there and then. The surge of pleasure shot hot sperm into the air and down somewhere behind me. The sight of this sent my wife over the edge and she bucked to her climax, shuddering hard as the orgasm bit.
We both ended up collapsed in heaps. My wife on the sofa and me resting against it, hands slowly stroking between our own legs as we came down. What a picture that would have made.
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<a href="http://www.lushstories.com/stories/masturbation/me-my-wife-and-our-masturbation-1.aspx">Me, My Wife and Our Masturbation Journey Part Three</a>