Somebody Is Watching

ROBERT

After I caught my wife cheating, I confessed to her that it was arousing for me to see her with another man. She told me about every time she had stepped out on our marriage. I told her how interested I was in watching her with other men. Of course, she had her hesitations about this. After talking about it over several days, we decided to try going out to bars together. Surprisingly, the guys we met were interested in her but not into being watched.

So we decided to try the chat rooms. We logged into the “Locals Married” chat room. This proved to be a little more difficult than we thought. Most of the guys we started chatting with, as a couple, didn’t believe she was real. They kept asking for pictures of her touching her nose, standing in front of a calendar with today’s date, and jumping through a bunch of different hoops. Anybody who did believe that she was real was very noncommittal about meeting.

Until finally, we started chatting with this one married man. We will call him Brett. Brett had been married twelve years and was forty-two years old. He wanted to meet her at the Fashion Square mall in Sherman Oaks, in one week, on a Sunday.

Christine and I went to the mall a few days before. We walked around to see if there was any place where they could mess around. The parking lot was full of cameras and too wide open, and the main bathrooms in the mall were nasty. Finally, we found what could be a perfect place. At the entrance of the mall was a bakery called 85°C. They had private bathrooms with locks on the doors. And even better, they played the music inside the bathroom very loudly, probably to passive-aggressively make anybody in there want to do their business as quickly as possible, which would be good for us because then any private noises would be covered up by their own loud music.

CHRISTINE

Brett wasn’t totally comfortable with Robert watching us. He said the fantasy was intriguing, but the reality of it was scary. So I told him that I would meet him alone for the first time. However, Robert insisted on being there, but he would keep a distance.

On Sunday, I wore a summer dress with no panties or bra, and I put my hair up into a messy updo. I was to meet Brett at the fountain in the middle of Westfield Mall around 2 PM. I felt super nervous. There is a Starbucks near the fountain. I got in line for a coffee and looked around. My husband was sitting at a small table on the other side of the fountain, trying not to look too suspicious.

After I received my coffee, I nodded towards Robert. He slowly nodded back. It was 2:10 PM and no sign so far of Brett. I sat down on the edge of the fountain, sipping my coffee. How long should I wait before we just leave? I started watching people walk to and fro, going about their business.

I definitely thought Brett was a no-show, so I started to get up to go and leave. As I was standing, I was approached by Brett. He looked exactly like he did in his pictures. He was tall, with sandy-blond hair. He was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt. He was very complimentary, telling me that I looked better than the pictures. We decided to walk around the mall a little bit. During our walk, we had casual conversation.

Finally, Brett asked me if I would be interested in hooking up with him sometime.

“I would,” I told him, “and I have an idea.”

I asked him to follow me. We walked to the 85°C bakery. I told him to wait by the bathroom entrance while I went to get the code from the clerk.

As the clerk was giving me the code, I noticed my husband walking slowly towards our location. I looked in his direction. I could feel myself blushing. I winked and smiled. He gave me a subtle smile back and a half nod. I went back to the bathroom, put in the code to unlock the door. Brett and I quickly went in, locking the door behind us.

ROBERT

I was watching my wife disappear into the bathroom with another man. What’s the turn-on? I just then realized the problem with this plan. I wouldn’t be able to watch. I found a table nearby where I could sit and act like I was sipping on coffee and eating a pastry while keeping my eye on the door. My mind began to create fantasies of what was going on in that bathroom. I was aroused, nervous, and scared, with a dash of jealousy.

CHRISTINE

The music they piped into the bathroom was even louder than I remembered. I had to talk close to Brett’s ear so he could hear me.

“Is this okay?”

Brett moved closer to me. “This is great, beautiful.”

He leaned in and kissed me. I slid my arms up around his neck. He pressed me against the bathroom wall as we kissed. His hands explored my ass and hips, then up to my breasts. With his fingers, he slid my shoulder straps down slowly, revealing my breasts to him. He smiled. He leaned down further, kissing each breast in turn. I reached down and felt his cock through his pants, softly kneading it, feeling his hardness through his jeans.

He unsnapped his pants and shimmied them down. His cock bounced out, full and thick.

“Please kiss it,” he whispered in my ear.

I grabbed some paper towels from the dispenser, then placed them on the floor in front of him. On my knees, I took him into my mouth. His hands rested on my shoulders as my head moved back and forth on him. My tongue circled his cock shaft, my lips gliding gently over each curve. He smelled good, and he tasted salty-sweet, almost like caramel and hot dogs. Strange combination, I know. As I sucked him, my hands slid around to the cheeks of his ass. Every so often, I could feel them flex.

I heard him say something. I took another deep-throat plunge, then slowly slid his cock out of my mouth and looked up.

“What?”

Brett responded with, “Please stand up.”

I stood up. He kissed me deeply. I wondered if he enjoyed the taste of his own cock from my mouth. He turned me facing the sink, looking into the mirror. He asked me to bend over. I told him we needed a condom. Brett quickly fished his hand into his jeans pocket and produced a condom. I turned back around, snatching it from him and opening it up. Getting back onto my knees, I rolled the condom down his cock head, then finished rolling it the rest of the way down the shaft with my mouth, which gave me a gross, rubbery taste in my mouth. The idea was hotter than the reality.

I stood back up. Once again, he turned me towards the mirror, and I bent over, holding onto the sink, watching him behind me. He guided himself into me, holding on to my hips as he slid into me.

“Ohhh fuck, you feel good!” he said, loud enough for me to hear over the music.

He wasn’t too big, he wasn’t too small; he felt just right. His hips pressed against my ass cheeks. Slow at first, but then he started moving a little faster. The movement made my breasts sway. I watched him in the mirror. His mouth was slightly open, and his eyes were closed. He felt really good in me. This felt so sexy, feeling his hips smack against my butt. However, as good as it felt, I knew I wasn’t going to orgasm. Not that I wasn’t enjoying the sex. I decided to fake an orgasm. So I held my breath. I gripped the sides of the sink. I kept holding my breath till my body tightened, and finally, I let it all out with multiple breathy gasps.

“Ahh! Um! Ohh! Ohhh! Ooh!” I said, taking deeper and deeper breaths.

Brett gripped my hips hard and let out a long moan. His body shook. Then, after catching his breath, he slid out of me. I stayed bent over the sink for a minute, then I turned the sink on and splashed some water on my face. I stood up, straightening my dress. I turned and watched him pull off his condom, toss it into the toilet, then wipe himself off with toilet paper.

After he cleaned up, he smiled. “That was amazing!” he told me while zipping up and wiping a few beads of sweat off his brow.

We kissed one more time. We left the bathroom holding hands. He walked me back to my car. We kissed again. We promised to keep in touch. I haven’t heard from him since.

After I knew he was gone, I found my husband in the mall. I told him every little detail.

ROBERT

After my wife told me about the bathroom, I said next time we need to have her bring the guy home, and because so many of the guys before shied away from being watched, I’ll be somewhere hidden.

After looking around our house for the best place, we both agreed on our bedroom closet. The closet door had narrow slats in them which could be easily seen through. From that spot, it gave me a great view of the bedroom and the bed. We even tested it with her lying on the bed in multiple positions. I could see her and the entire room clearly, and best of all, she could not see me.

So then we went back to the chat rooms. I clicked the chat that was labeled “Local Wife Fuckers.”

CHRISTINE

After being in that room for five minutes, I got a barrage of direct messages. Usual questions of what are you wearing? Have I ever cheated? (I lied and said no but was thinking about it.) And of course, I got several unsolicited dick pics. It took thirty-five minutes to filter out thirty different guys down to seven, then down to three, then mainly just one.

Screen name “Ay Ay Ron.” He had been married but was divorced, and had a penchant for married women. I had to prove that I was real by sending him a live picture. We shared our fantasies, what we liked and didn’t like in bed, and some wild things we had done sexually. Ay Ay Ron confessed that he had been in prison for a “bullshit reason.” After he divorced his wife, he went over and got his car, and she reported it stolen, even though it was his car; it was in both of their names. He got arrested for grand theft auto. He had spent three years in state prison and hadn’t been with a woman in that time. We chatted for two or three more days, exchanging pics every day. We finally decided mutually that we were going to meet at a Starbucks that was walking distance from my house.

ROBERT

Both of us, my wife and I, were excited about this meeting, and I wanted to choose what she was going to wear, but Christine thought anything I chose would be too slutty for public. So I asked her to give me a chance. I would lay out three different outfits for her to choose from. The first outfit was a sheer tank top with a plaid miniskirt, the second outfit was a tube top and short shorts, and the third outfit was a tight tube dress.

When Christine saw what I chose for her, she let out a long, exasperated sigh.

Christine then said, “I’m not going to wear any of these in public. But I will meet you halfway.”

She exchanged the skirt for a little longer skirt that came down to mid-thigh, and a different tank top with a built-in underwire bra that lifted and supported her girls. The plan was for her to walk to Starbucks, which was a few blocks down from our house. I would stay home, and when she came back with him, I would watch from my hiding spot.

CHRISTINE

I spritzed perfume in the air and walked through it, letting it fall on my face, neck, and cleavage. I glanced up and down in the mirror and felt confident about how I looked. Before I left, Robert gave me a long, passionate kiss which almost made me want to forget going out and just stay home to make love to him. Before I left, Robert asked one more thing.

“Before you leave, I would like to hold on to these.”

He sank down to his knees, slid his hands up my skirt, and slid my thong down to my ankles. I stepped out of them and took one step back.

“Now I really feel exposed,” I said.

We shared another long, deep kiss, which I stopped.

“Okay baby, if I’m going to meet him, I’ve got to go now; otherwise, I’ll be late.”

Robert replied with, “Have fun, and I’ll see you soon.”

I left our house and walked to Starbucks. When I arrived, the guy was already there. He was wearing a white tank top undershirt and jorts. I almost didn’t recognize him. He was about five-nine and bald. In his pictures, he had dark brown hair. Also, his arms and neck were covered in tattoos, and a teardrop tattoo on his face. I got some coffee, and we sat at a table. His real name was Aaron.

He spoke first. “You look better looking than most girls that I have done it with. Most of them have been skanks, but you got this sexy MILF vibe. Any kids?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“Wow, you have a lot of tattoos.”

“Yeah, I got most of these when I was away.”

“Tell me about them.”

“Well, I got tats on my chest, neck, arms, and this one,” he pointed to his right bicep. “This one is a portrait of my mom.”

“What about the tear?” I asked as I took a sip from my latte. He stared at me for a bit, then looked at me with baby-doll eyes.

“It means I am sad and sorry for my actions. Do you have any ink?”

“No.”

“I would love to give you one.”

“I am not a tattoo type.”

“Yeah, that’s what they all say, till their first one. Listen, I would love to show you more of my tats. Wanna get out of here?”

“Sure, I live a couple blocks away, close enough to walk.”

“Fuck that, we will take my car.”

He got up, and I followed him outside to his VW Bug. He had to clean some cans and papers off the passenger-side seat.

ROBERT

I was waiting and becoming impatient, wondering where she was. I texted her three times but no answer. I was on my second beer and was about to leave for Starbucks when, through the window, a VW Bug pulled up, and Christine got out. She was walking toward the front door, followed closely by the man she met online. I quickly dropped my beer bottle into the trash and ran to the bedroom. I struggled a little to get the closet door closed perfectly so I could see the bedroom. I heard the front door open just as I got it into place.

CHRISTINE

As I shut the door behind us, he pulled me against him and started kissing me.

I pulled away from him a little and said, “Let’s slow down and continue this in the bedroom.”

I started walking towards the bedroom. He came up behind me and looped his arm around my waist, pulling me over to the couch.

“You are so fucking sexy, Christine. Let’s fuck right here.”

Then he was firmly kissing on my neck, and his hand was on my breast, kneading them through my top. I squeezed my way out from underneath him. Standing back up…

“Come on, let’s go to the bedroom.”

I walked swiftly down the hall. I opened the door to the bedroom. He was right behind me, and he was topless, having pulled his shirt off in the middle of the hallway. His chest was really muscular, mostly covered in tattoos. Most prominent were the numbers 1488 in large print across his chest. A tattoo of Jesus over his heart, and a dragon that looked like it was crawling out of his pants. Little lines—four in a row with one going through diagonally and three more little lines next to it—tattooed just under his navel.

I said, “Wow, that’s a lot of ink,” but before I could finish this sentence, he picked me up, lifting me off the ground, and plopped me on the edge of the bed. He looked at me hungrily, standing between my legs. He lowered to his knees, and his mouth covered my vagina. His tongue swirled around my pussy as he pulled my skirt up.

“Oohh! My! God!”

I gripped up the blankets in my fists. I looked down at him; his face was buried between my thighs. I looked at the closet. I knew my husband was there. I knew he was watching. I confess that his tongue, which was now swirling in circles and X’s across my labia, was the best oral I’ve ever received. I was getting so wet. I felt my body tense. The moment I was about to orgasm, he stopped, and he stood up. In one swift motion with one hand, he flicked his pants open and pulled them to the floor. His erect penis was thick, full, and curved ever so slightly to the left. He leaned over me. I could feel his cock lying resting against my vaginal lips.

“I need to fuck you!” Aaron said lustfully.

Before I could say anything, I felt his hand guide his cockhead into me. I suddenly inhaled. I was so wet and slick, it just slid in without any resistance. My hands gripped his back hard.

“Oooh! Fuck!!” I gasped.

My vagina was pried apart by his fullness. He was all the way in me. He slid almost all the way out and then pushed back in again, and then pulled all the way out and stood up. His cock bounced and jerked in the air. His hands on his hips like Superman. Then a jet of semen shot through the air and landed on my stomach and tank top.

“I was ready for that to happen,” he said proudly.

I replied, “It’s okay. You haven’t been with a woman in a while. It’s totally understandable.”

I started to slide off the bed. Wrapping his arms around me again, he said, “Where are you going? I’m not anywhere close to being done with you yet,” he said into my ear.

He pulled my top off, revealing my breasts.

“Fuck, Christine, I fucking love your tits,” and before I could say anything, he turned me around facing the bed and bent me over it. I felt him guide his slippery, thick dick against me from behind, and then, grabbing my hips, he thrust in. He started fucking me fast, so fast I could hear his hips hit my ass cheeks rapidly, making me groan “Ooh!” with each push. Then his thrust started going a little slower but yet deeper, as his hand slid up my back to my shoulders. One hand slid up the back of my neck, his fingers going through my hair, grabbing a fistful of my hair and pulling my head back. My body rhythmically bounced from his exertions. I felt my vagina hugging his entire cock, squeezing it, massaging it, as it moved in and out of me. I started moaning “Oh!” in rhythm with each of his pushes. “Oh!! Oh!! Oh!! Oh!! Oh!! Ooh!”

Aggressively, he growled, “Take it, slut! Yeah, you like it! You love it! You want more of it!”

My orgasm exploded before I knew it was going to happen. I was loud. “OH! OOOHH!! FUUUCCK!!!”

I fell forward onto the bed face first, panting. He was still on me, in me, humping away like a wild animal. He stopped briefly to turn me over onto my back, slid on me, so his entire body was pressed up against mine, and easily and hands-free entered me again. I brought my knees up a little higher. I wrapped my arms around his back. The bed squeaking under his rapid thrusts. Our sex sounded like a hand slapping a wet watermelon. His shoulder was under my chin. I could see his ass moving up and down and, of course, the closet just beyond.

ROBERT

I was hard as a rock watching the guy strip my wife, then have his way with her. I unzipped my pants and took out my penis and stroked myself watching them. The closet was small and with no ventilation. It was heating up fast. I felt cramped in this space. Also, because of the beers, I had to piss. So there I was watching this guy rail my wife, and I found it hard to enjoy because I was sweaty, cramped, and had pressure on my bladder. Pressure that was growing by the minute. A new venue would be needed. I leaned back against the wall, grinding my teeth, watching them through the door slats, and my God, I needed to piss.

CHRISTINE

As he was fucking me, my hands explored his back, which was becoming sweaty. I noticed faint body odor from him, which was growing stronger. He started pumping slow and deep, and he started moaning loudly into my ear. I started bucking my hips up to meet his hips. He raised his chest off of mine, supporting himself with his arms. His chest now sweaty.

“Ooohhh! FUCK! YEAH!!” he growled.

Then he quickly pulled out of me and started furiously masturbating. Within seconds, a stream of semen shot across my belly, then across my breasts and across both my belly and breasts. The smell was pungent. Like inhaling the scent from a Bradford pear tree that had gone bad.

He flopped down next to me. Huffing and puffing. As I sat up, his stinky seed trickled down my stomach. I looked at him, his arms up over his head. I could really smell his body odor now.

“You know what would be sexy? Taking a shower.”

I got off the bed and walked into the adjoining bathroom. I started the shower. As soon as it was heated up, I got in. My body smelled of his fluids. I used a generous handful of body soap on a washcloth. Foaming and scrubbing my entire body. Then I saw him at the shower door. He was dressed again.

“Hey, sorry about this, but I gotta bounce. Hit me up if you want another go.”

I quickly got out of the shower, wrapped a towel around myself, and walked him to the door. We kissed goodbye at the door. He groped my breast one more time and left. I locked the door and walked quickly back to my shower. My husband was standing in front of the toilet, urinating.

ROBERT

Finally able to piss, which felt so good. As my wife showered, I stripped the bed of all blankets and sheets, put them into the wash, then opened the bedroom windows to get more airflow through. We talked about the experience and agreed that a new screening process would be needed and a new way to watch.

One Month Later

ROBERT

I equipped our entire house with many hidden cameras, any of which could be watched from a monitor with an internet connection. One facing the living-room couch, one in a smoke detector looking down above the kitchen, two in the bedroom—above the bed, one facing the bed from the side—and one in the bathroom facing the shower. We tested these cameras by having sex in various places in the house in various lighting: bright light, low light, no light. And after a few minor adjustments, we were good to go.

CHRISTINE

A little time after the cameras were in place, I got a message from an ex-boyfriend who is now just a friend, who was passing through town, and he wanted to know if my husband and I could meet up for dinner sometime. Robert thought this was the perfect chance to use the cameras. I told him that my ex, Eric, and I have been platonic friends too long. He would not be interested, or even want to have sex with me. Robert fanatically disagreed, stating that all ex-boyfriends believe on some level they have a lifetime pass to having sex with their former partners. I totally disagreed. My husband wanted to make a bet on it, and I am competitive, so that made me agree to it.

ROBERT

The terms of the bet were that she could not initiate sex, kissing, or touching of any kind, but at the same time she couldn’t refuse or detour it. I had Christine text him back saying yes, we would love to meet up for dinner with him. In fact, we would cook him dinner, and he would be welcome to stay at our place and sleep on the couch, saving him hotel travel expenses. We would have dinner, then watch a movie on TV, and at some point I would be extra tired and excuse myself to go to bed—aka go watch them from another room on a monitor.

CHRISTINE

On the night of, Eric, my ex, arrived promptly on time. He brought us a bottle of wine. We exchanged pleasantries. We had a great meal. Then, after dinner, we started watching a movie. All three of us sat on the couch. Eric sitting on the left, me sitting on the extreme right, my husband in the middle. After the movie was over, I started to look for another movie to watch. Robert yawned and stretched and said we shouldn’t keep our guest awake. Maybe we should go to bed. I asked Eric if he would want to go to sleep or watch one more movie. He said that he was capable of watching one more movie. I handed him the remote and told him to choose one from our streaming service.

Robert excused himself and said, “Well, it’s getting too late for me. I will go to bed. Have a good night.”

Eric and I said good night in unison. Robert disappeared down the hall to our bedroom. I got up and put another bag of microwavable popcorn into the microwave and started it up while Eric was browsing for another movie to watch. While the bag of popcorn was heating, I told him that I was going to get into my jammies and I’d be right back. He said he would do the same. I pointed out a bathroom where he could change out of his clothes and into his nightclothes.

Back in the bedroom, I shut the door behind me and told Robert, “He will never go for this. He will never make a move.”

My husband still disagreed and was sticking to his guns. He wanted me to walk out there in a silky short nightgown. I told him no way, and chose jersey pajama shorts and a white top to put on.

Robert said, “At least take your bra off before you go out.”

I gave him a side-look, then took off my bra and put back on the white tee.

Robert continued, “Now remember, let him make the first move.”

I returned to the living room and plopped down on the couch. I asked if he found something for us to watch.

“Yes, if you don’t mind if we watch an episode of The Great British Bake Off.”

“You know, I love that show! Of course, put it on.”

He pushed play. I hopped up and lowered the lights in the living room. Eric asked if the TV was going to be too loud for Robert, and I told him no; Robert sleeps deeply, and he’ll stay asleep. Nothing really wakes him up. He even slept through a fire alarm one time (which is true).

ROBERT

I sat there locked in our back room, watching with great anticipation my wife sitting next to her ex watching television, and absolutely nothing was going on. Only once did he actually stand up from the couch, and that was to adjust himself, and Christine did her best not to notice. He just sat back down and made no lingering looks or touches or anything of any sort. Good God, this guy is boring.

Christine had gotten up off the couch and made even more popcorn. As soon as she had stood up and walked past him, he stood up and yet again readjusted his crotch. And then five to ten minutes later, when she returned with the popcorn and plopped down next to him on the couch, he stood up and adjusted his crotch, but this time Christine spoke up.

CHRISTINE

Eric kept on adjusting himself every so often. I finally had to ask, “Do you have a problem there?”

“You know how it is, sometimes you just have to realign the boys.”

I slowly shook my head and laughed. “Oh my.”

And as a joke, I stood up, put my hands under my breasts, lifting and raising them and wiggling them back and forth.

“There you go, girls.”

And plopped back down.

“I don’t know if it’s okay to say, but it’s sexier when you do it. Ha,” Eric said shyly.

Just then my phone vibrated. I discreetly read the message. A text was from Robert: Sit crisscross applesauce style on the couch and have the popcorn bowl between your legs.

I folded my legs underneath me and moved the bowl from between Eric and me and put it between my legs. After a minute, Eric scooted closer to me, and every so often his hand would drift into the bowl to grab a couple more pieces of popcorn. Then some popcorn fell from his fingers onto my leg.

He said, “Oops, hold on, I dropped some.”

I felt his hand on my leg, fingers searching for the popcorn kernel, which started sliding down between my thighs. I didn’t protest. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t correct. I just opened my leg a little. He retrieved the popcorn kernel and popped it into his mouth. Then I noticed he was sitting a little closer to me, and after a few more minutes, I felt his knuckles against my leg. When he would go for some more popcorn, his fingers would brush up along the side of my leg, until it got to the popcorn bowl and he would slide a few more pieces of popcorn into his mouth, and each time he would place his hand a little bit more against my leg. I leaned back a little bit more on the couch, resting my head on a pillow in more of a lounging position. The popcorn was nearly gone. I asked Eric if he wanted any more, just staring ahead at the TV. He said no.

I placed the bowl on an end table next to me. His hand still remained touching my leg as we sat there together. He had leaned over and said something about the baking show, and his hand lifted up as he was talking, gesturing with his words, and then he rested his hand on my leg, palm down. I felt the slightest bit of a squeeze on my thigh. It’s just like maybe I imagined it. I didn’t move. I didn’t question it. I just lay reclined there watching the show.

His hand shifted a little on my leg, fingers turning more inward. He leaned over, and he whispered, “This reminds me of when we would hang out during our college years.”

I looked towards him and said, “Yes, it’s very nice.”

He smiled. I returned his smile. I felt his hand slide a little bit more to my inner thigh. There was a definite, distinct squeeze this time. His hand stayed there for the next few minutes. I felt his pinky kind of stretch out more, touching the hem of my jersey shorts. His thumb sweeping my leg in small little circles. I didn’t react. I just sat there. A few more minutes passed. His hand moved millimeters up my thigh. His pinky was now under the hem of my shorts. Both of my hands were at the sides of my hips. With my right hand, I reached up and ran my fingers through my hair, jostling it a little. I could feel him looking at me.

He said softly, “Your hair looks nice like that.”

I looked at him, and our eyes met, and we were just staring at each other, deep into each other’s eyes. I felt his hand slide a little higher on my thigh, his pinky now touching my panties. He leaned forward and kissed my mouth. I closed my eyes. I felt his tongue brush against mine softly. He slowly pulled back, and he said, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have done that.”

I just stared back into his eyes.

“It’s okay.”

We stared at each other silently for I don’t know how long, when finally he just leaned over, taking his hand off my thigh, and kissed me deeply. I returned his kiss, my hand sliding up around the side of his neck to the back of his head. His left hand reached across my body, feeling my stomach and then up and cupping my breast, gently squeezing it. Then his hand slid under my top. He cupped my bare breast in his hand as he kissed me, then slowly pulled off my top. His hand reached over and guided my hand to his boxer shorts. His cock was extremely hard. I could feel his heartbeat pulse through it.

The memories of our past intimate moments came flooding back into my mind as if they happened yesterday instead of years ago. He leaned over more on me as we continued to kiss. I slid to my side and then onto my back on the couch. He lay flat against me. Sitting up a little, he pulled off his top. He doesn’t have a muscular body, nor is he fat. Just a slim build. He dropped the shirt to the floor. He didn’t look down at my breasts. He just kept staring me in my eyes. Then he lay down on top of me, his chest against mine. We started to kiss. The kiss grew more and more passionate. He flexed his hips, rubbing his erection that was covered by his boxers against my jersey shorts. I felt myself getting wet for him. My hands slid up his sides and felt to his smooth back. I slid my hands down his back and cupped his ass through his boxer shorts, and then back up to his shoulders. When I slid my hands back down, my hand slid under his boxer shorts and cupped his smooth buttocks.

He stopped kissing me. I opened my eyes, and we just stared into each other’s eyes deeply, for I don’t know how long, as he eased himself up on his knees and pulled his boxers down, kicking them off behind him. His erection bounced out, pulsing. His fingers hooked inside my jersey shorts, pausing for a moment. He looked at me as if silently asking my permission. I gave him a single nod. He slid my shorts and panties off down my legs.

Slowly, he slid back up my body, his hands bracing himself up under my armpits. He lowered his mouth, sucking my right breast into his mouth, his tongue flatly circling the nipple and then giving a gentle suckle. I closed my eyes; my hands went up around the back of his head, my fingertips running through his hair. I felt the tip of his penis slide against me. Moisture from my labia made the tip wet, then the entire shaft as it slid up against me, but not in. I opened my legs a little wider. His penis slid against my pussy lips. I reached down to guide him in me. But he moved my hand away, staring into my eyes; he just whispered, “No.”

I gave him a slightly puzzled look. I felt his cockhead pressing against my labia, pulling back, then pressing me again, and then sliding hands-free into me. I tilted my pelvis up. He sank deeper into me. Eric exhaled. My mouth was so close to his I breathed in the air he just exhaled, letting it fill my lungs. He started moving his hips, moving his cock all the way into me and then slightly out, then back in. His balls rubbing against the bottom of my butt. We just stared at each other’s eyes, occasionally kissing, but not blinking. My hands explored his back and his bare ass as it flexed and released over and over slowly. I started to breathe heavier as I pushed up my hips in rhythm to meet his. My breasts firmly pressed against his chest. And after a few minutes, my vagina clenched. I felt my orgasm start to build. I looped one of my legs up around his ass cheek. He started to move quicker. My eyes widened. I let out a long, quiet “Oohh!”

His pelvic bone smacked against mine as we moved together as one. My wetness gushed, flowing over his cock. My vaginal walls massaged and pulsed against his shaft, squeezing him fiercely. My hands gripped his back.

“Ooohhh fuck!” I exhaled loudly.

His cock pulsed in me. He held himself completely in me. His face tightened in deep concentration. The kind of face that he makes when he’s playing a video game. His eyes closed. He exhaled his own “Aaaghhh… Chris!!”

His body lay on top of mine. His nose and mouth against my neck, catching his breath. My legs wrapped around the back of his thighs. My hands around his sides, holding his back. His cock still in me.

I said into his ear, “That was amazing.”

No other words were spoken. We just lay there for minutes on end. Then I felt him slide out of me. He sat upright on the couch.

Eric whispered, “You didn’t stop me.”

I sat up. “No, I guess I didn’t.”

Then I stood up and straddled him on the couch facing him. I reached down and made sure that his flaccid penis was pointing upright between us, pressed against his pelvis and mine. I rubbed my breasts against his face, cradling his face against my chest. His arm slowly went around my back, holding me. I started to grind against him, his cock, which slowly reflated. I raised up. I reached down and guided it into me as I slid down on him. My hands on his shoulders as my hips moved in waves. I positioned my breasts over his mouth one after another, back and forth, as I started to bounce, grind, and rotate on him. After five minutes, I leaned back, supporting myself with my hands on the back of his knees. He could look down and see my pussy on him, and just a hint of the base of his cock could be seen. I rode him for a good fifteen minutes before I felt him cum again. It felt so good to have him cum inside me. The warmth was wet and slick. The feel of his semen flooding inside of me made me orgasm for the second time.

After my body stopped convulsing, I sat back up, and we just stared into each other’s eyes, his hands exploring my back, softly, gently.

Then Eric softly said, “When I leave in the morning, I want you to come with me.”

I just kept staring into his eyes, and then kissed him warmly.

“Eric, I…”

Before I could finish what I was about to say, Eric continued, “I want a family with you. I want kids. I want to laugh and to wake up next to you every morning. I want to have arguments. I want to make love. I want to share every moment, good and bad, with you.”

I sat there with him in me, staring into his eyes, my breast resting on his collarbone.

“Eric, those days of us being together have passed. I’m with Robert now.”

I stood up, his soft cock slipping out of me.

Eric’s still looking up at me. “Are you going to tell him what happened here tonight?”

“No, I don’t think so. I think this was a beautiful moment shared between you and I. A moment that will not come again and should not come again.”

Eric slowly nodded. “You are beautiful, Christine, and now I have to get some rest and go to sleep. I have a long day tomorrow.”

His eyes were turning pink. I silently picked up my clothes and put them back on. I helped Eric make the couch into a bed with proper sheets, pillows, and a blanket. I gave him one last look as I disappeared into the darkness of the hallway that led to my bedroom.

ROBERT

I was about to give up hope that Eric would even make a move on her. Then, from the hidden camera, I saw his hand on her thigh; then I saw him kissing; then I saw them undressing each other. Then I noticed something I didn’t want to notice. Something I didn’t want to watch. They weren’t fucking. They were making love. I stopped stroking myself. The way they were looking into each other’s eyes—that wasn’t lust, that was passionate love. What have I done? What have I set up? I continued watching them. Her orgasm, and then him having his. How they stared into each other’s eyes afterwards—it was soul-wrenching. Just as I thought they were done, they just moved to a different position, with her riding him. My hands trembled, and tears started forming in my eyes. Does she love him? Does she love him more than me? Would she be happier with him? I quickly shut off the monitor. I couldn’t watch anymore.

I went into our bedroom and lay on the edge of the bed with my head under the pillow. After a while, I heard the click of the door opening and closing, then the bathroom shower flicked on, ran for a few minutes before it shut off. Christine then slid her naked body against the back of mine.

“Honey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“You made love to him,” I said into the darkness. “Do you…?” My voice trembled. “Would you rather be with him? Would he make you happy?”

I feared Christine’s answer. Christine pulled on my body. I rolled over towards her.

“No, no way. You’re the man I married. You’re the man I love. I know that now beyond a shadow of a doubt. I know that with every fiber of my being.”

Then she kissed me. We made love. She rode me while I lay on my back, her hands on my chest. Christine, my beautiful angel, my love, my life, my sexy wife.

The End.

Epilogue

Two months later, we received word that Eric was fired from his teaching job at the college for messing around with a couple of his students. Christine and I have grown closer together and have continued our sexual exploration together.