Description

Watching My Wife Fuck a BBC, by Jezebel Rose

Sitting alone on the couch, he felt the thrill of anticipation; he took another slug of whiskey from his glass. “Steady on,” he said to himself, “I mustn’t drink too much.” He knew very well how alcohol reduced his ability without lowering his desire. He looked at the clock on the shelf 11:15 p.m., he knew what would be happening now, he had been there many times himself, the music, the rhythm, the atmosphere, the shoals of female prey and male predators, although sometimes, such as tonight, these roles were not so clear-cut.

He thought of all those times when he was inside her, sliding his cock in and out of her wet cunt, her knees drawn up to allow him greater access, his balls pressing against her on every inward thrust, the feel of her wet lips on the tip of his prick as he withdrew. “Talk to me, talk to me” he would say “tell me a story.”

“What about?” she would ask, knowing what he wanted, as he had asked her many times before? “Tell me about a time you were being screwed, tell me about a fuck you had” Then she would tell him in detail, a vivid description of a previous sexual encounter, every moment re-enacted in his mind, his wife being fucked by an unknown man. She knew the more graphic the story, the harder and bigger his prick would be inside her and the sooner he would cum, bursting inside her, flooding her insides with spunk. “You like that don’t you?” she would ask after his orgasm “me with another man.”

“Yes,” he would reply, “it turns me on.” Sometimes he would talk to her, telling her how they were on holiday and would meet a person who would want her. How they would be in their hotel room, how he would let this strange guy fuck her. He would have his fingers on her cunt lips while he was describing the scene. He would feel the juices flowing out of her, her clitoris standing proud and uncovered in the folds of her lips. Slipping his index finger inside her while keeping the pressure on her clit with his thumb. Her moans, her writing. He too would time it, drawing the story out to meet with her climax. How her cunt muscles would grip his finger, the cum running off of his wrist, her wet, matted pubic hair, her loud moans that he was sure could be heard next door.

That is how it began. The fantasy of her being fucked by someone else. Evolving with time into their town, their house, their bedroom.

He was hard now, thinking of what his wife was doing at this very moment. He was tempted to have a wink there and then. However, no, save it he thought, tonight would be the peak of his sex life. He remembered how gradually they had decided on this plan. A plan that had been in his mind for ages, a program that he had not dared suggest to her. It was she who had finally recommended it, just before one of her orgasms. “I’ll do it, I’ll do it for you,” she said, “I get chatted up all the time when I’m out with Barbara. I’ll pick a guy up and let him bring me home, and you can hide and watch me being fucked by him.” As he said yes to her suggestion she had flooded his hand with cum, he now knew that she too wanted to live the fantasy. He looked at the clock 11:30.

They had arranged for her to return at 12 o’clock. He felt light-headed, the excitement was overpowering. He cleared the room of any sign of his presence, the whiskey glass, the photograph of them both, his snooker trophy. He wanted this experience, but he did not want the person to feel that he was taking anything belonging to him. The person must think that she was single, alone, not his wife, his woman. He climbed the stairs and entered their bedroom. Sitting on the bed, he pulled open his bedside drawer. Here was their first excursion into fantasy.

He removed the photographs from the drawer. Many times before in her amateur modeling career she had photos taken by a professional in Manchester for her portfolio, clothes, swimsuits, and lingerie. Eventually, they had decided on some more daring shots. He remembered how he had waited for her return that day, how she would not discuss it and told him to wait until the photographs coming. The day he came home from work to find there propped up on the kitchen table a large brown envelope. She would not let him examine the contents, not until later when they were in bed. He remembered her lying next to him, her fingers gripped around his hard cock slowly wanking him as he pulled the photographs one at a time from the envelope.

As he stared at each shot, she would describe the events that preceded and succeeded it. The first shot, the skintight black dress, her breasts and nipples pressing against the material. How the young assistant was just the other side of the curtain, as she got ready. The swimsuit high cut, her ‘twinkle,’ as she called it, discernible at her crutch… The lingerie, coyly lying on her back, an open shirt covering her shoulders and falling open at her bra.

Her left knee drawn up and across her right thigh. She described how she had told the photographer that she would try topless for the first time. She remembers the look on the assistant’s face and the bulge in his trousers as she walked back from the changing room, clutching the shirt around herself wearing nothing else but a ‘G’ string. He examined the next shot; the same pose as before but this time her exposed right breast visible inside the fold of her shirt. He could not resist if he did what he has always done when viewing these pictures. He placed them on the bed beside him, stood up and removed his trousers and shorts.

 

His cock was hard; the end was red and hot. He sat back down and picked up the next picture in his left hand. He gripped his cock with his right hand, slowly drawing the skin back and forth. There she was sat upright on the couch shirt removed, arms straight, hands either side and slightly behind her on the seat. Her breasts on full display, she had told him how the assistant’s eyes never left her nipples.

 

“How about nude?” the photographer asked.

 

“Well, OK” she had cautiously replied slipping off her ‘G’ string without parting her legs. She swears that the young assistant came then because he picked up her discarded shirt and held it in front of his groin probably to hide the spreading damp patch in his light colored jeans. He kept the next photo; the pose was the same as the previous two. Only this time, she told him, her left leg was hiding the telltale signs of juice that were appearing at the entrance of her cunt. He knew what came next, but he always prolonged it, relishing the description she had given him.

How the photographer had told her how good she was, how she was a natural, how her beauty was to be artistically admired, she knew he wanted a shot of her pussy. He picked up the next shot as he closed his eyes, imagining the scene. She said she had to steal herself; she had never done this before, anything like this, she had always previously ensured her privacy, even while she changed. How she had slowly moved her knee down straightening her leg until her knees were together. Her cunt lips, she was sure, were now in view poking through her fine pubic hair.

The assistant had shifted his position to the end of the couch to be better placed. Taking a deep breath, she continued the movement of her left knee only this time moving up and away from her right leg. She remembers the look on the assistants face, the words of encouragement by the photographer, how she lay there, legs apart, and her cunt on view. He opened his eyes, he looked at his wife, nude, her breasts, round and delicious, her nipples hard with desire, her right leg stretched out straight towards the photographer, her left leg drawn up, her knee on the backrest of the couch.

He looked at her cunt, as they will have done, her lips were swollen, and her clitoris was clearly visible as was the moist entrance to her vagina. A stream of spunk shot out from his prick landing thickly on the carpet in front of him. Always the same ending, how he enjoyed reliving that moment. Had she fucked either of them? She said no, but many times their fantasy had continued where she had.

He put the photographs back in the drawer and slid it shut. He recovered his discarded shorts and wiped his prick where the last remnants of sperm had dribbled down his shaft and onto his knuckles. It was at that moment he heard a car pull up outside.

He dare not peak through the curtains in case he was seen, he waited to hold his breath. The light, the bedroom light was on, it was too late now to turn it off, he waited for what seemed like an age, was it his wife returning or someone else, next door maybe? The key is inserted in the front door lock answered his question.

“I must have left it on when I went out” he heard her say by way of explanation for the bedroom light. Good, she had kept to the story and told him that she lived alone, he was happy about that, the success of this fantasy relied on the fact that he would not feel that this guy had one over on him. If the person did not know he existed he could not take any malicious pleasure out of fucking his wife, she would be just another woman.

“Make yourself comfortable, I’m just going upstairs” he heard his wife climbing the stairs. He sat on the bed as she opened the bedroom door and closed it behind her. “Have you been wanking she whispered?” she knew her husband very well. “Yes,” he replied, “I was looking at your photos.”

“Well don’t roll over and go to sleep, you’ll miss the main event” she cradled his balls as she spoke. “I love you, darling,” he whispered into her ear “I find you so sexy.”

“So does the guy downstairs. I had better get back to him” she made to leave. “Do you fancy him?’ he asked. “Feel for yourself “she walked towards him. He placed his right hand on her right thigh just below the hem of her black mini dress. He slid it upward towards her crutch. He could feel the moist heat before he reached the material of her ‘G’ string. It was wet with the thick juices of her cunt. The lubrication made it easy for him to push the material aside and slip a finger straight into her wet hole. “Has he done this yet?”

“No not yet, we have only danced, he did kiss me outside of the club when we were leaving. It wasn’t until I said he could bring me home that he first thought that he might get into my knickers.”

“So what brought this on then?” he asked. “Well He’s a good-looking bloke I’ve talked to him before, and tonight I’m going to fuck him while you watch me” He felt his prick twitch on those words. How the very thought of it filled his mind. He removed his hand, and she quietly left the room switching off the light, leaving the door ajar behind her so that he would not make any noise as he opened it. The staircase was plunged into darkness too as she switched off the light at the bottom of the stairs.

He listened at the opening of the door, polite conversation. Clubs, pubs, holidays, people, places. It then went quiet. He looked for a few more moments before venturing out of the room. He realized that he was wearing nothing but his shirt, what if the person saw him. No explanation was going to stand up. He slipped the shirt off and tossed it back into the bedroom. Naked he descended the first few steps of the staircase. Good girl, she had left the lounge door ajar as well. The subdued light of the floor lamp in the lounge spilled out into the hall.

He could not see them, but he could tell they were on the couch. He could hear them kissing, he could listen to the familiar moans of his wife as she caressed the hard cock through trouser material. He heard the familiar sound of a zip being slowly lowered, then new music, a husky male voice sighing with pleasure. He felt his own cock slowly rising. Quietly he returned up the few steps he had descended and returned into the bedroom. He carefully opened the door to the walk-in closet and crouched down, taking hold of the carpet he pulled it aside to reveal the prepared spy hole down into the lounge located directly above the couch.

There was his wife sitting on the couch a stranger on her right. Her right arm around his neck, her left hand fondling a sizeable swollen prick through his open trousers. His right hand was caressing her left breast through the material of her dress, his other hand was at the back of her head pulling her to him as he hungrily devoured her lips.

He surveyed the feast before his eyes, this what he had dreamed of and masturbated over, he took hold of his rigid cock.

He watched as the person pulled the strap of her dress over her left shoulder exposing her breast, he watched as he moved his hand down over her chest and took hold of her nipple between his thumb and index finger, rolling it between them. He knew what she would do. Next, she pulled her lips from his and pushed his face down to her exposed breast, how she enjoyed having her nipples sucked. She looked up at him as she nursed her guest, she knew where the spy hole was, she flashed her eyes at him in that arousing way she would do from across the room at parties, knowing how it turned him on. Only now, another man was sucking her tits, and her cunt was wet for this stranger, where before it had just been wet for him. He had to stop wanking he could feel his orgasm climbing within him; he did not want to be too soon.

He watched his wife get up from the couch and kick her shoes off. “You like what you see?” she asked. How could he say no? There she stood in a tight black dress one strap down over her shoulder revealing a lovely pink nipple breast, the other barely covered by the dress. She reached up and slipped the other strap down over her shoulder, pulling the top of the dress down to her waist. “How about this?” she continued, she cupped her breasts one in each hand and pulled them up to her extended tongue, she licked each nipple in turn. “You’re fucking gorgeous” he heard him say. “I never thought that you would let me take you home.”

“Well you were so persistent I decided that you deserved a reward, so here you are.” with that, she placed her thumbs inside the waist of her dress and eased it down over her hips, she allowed it to fall to the floor. The stranger began to fondle his own cock, he did likewise, and God his wife was horny. She stood there wearing nothing but a black ‘G’ string. He rubbed his cock, he had never been this hard before, and his veins were standing out, giving his cock a ribbed feel in his hand.

“I want to fuck you,” said the guy. “I want you to fuck me too,” said his wife. That one statement turned him on so much, his delicious wife wanting to fuck another man. She pulled her ‘G’ string over her hips where it joined her dress on the carpet, she stood there naked. This was it, he was about to see her straddle this person’s cock. However, no instead she moved away from him, what was she going to do now? She sat in the chair opposite her lover, he could only just see her that is why she had moved the chair forward earlier that evening, and she had planned the whole thing.

Without a moment’s hesitation, she lifted her legs and draped them one over each side of the armchair. He did not expect this; this person was getting a perfect view of his wife’s wet cunt. He could not help but speed up his wanking, the person did likewise. She reached down between her legs with both hands; taking the folds of her lips with one side, she spread her fingers, exposing the inner delights of her well-lubricated cunt. With her free hand, she sought out and found her clitoris teasing it into view. Now she would never masturbate for him, she did it once while he was blindfolded and tied to the bed, but here she was doing it for this person.

No, for both of them, she knew how he fantasized about her wanking and now she was doing it for two people, him and her stranger. Rhythmically she worked her wet pussy, pushing her clit downwards, upwards, and from side to side. He watched as she slipped her middle finger just into the entrance teasing herself. Returning her attention to her clit, circling it with her wet fingers, before again caressing it directly. He looked across at the stranger, he had eradicated his trousers now and was cupping his balls with one hand while he wanked with the other.

“Oh, how I love cock, big stiff cock up my cunt” she was pushing two fingers in and out of herself now, using her other hand to rub her clit. He knew his wife’s orgasms, and he knew that she was close to one; he could recognize the look on her face, and the look of her swollen cunt lips. “I’m going to shoot my wad,” gasped the stranger. “In me, in me, do it in me,” she panted. The person moved across the room, it seemed in one bound and knelt on the floor in front of his wife. He watched as her hands gripped his waist and pulled him towards her, between her legs. He knew exactly what that person was feeling now; he had felt it many times before. That soaking wet cunt dribbling juices down onto his bollocks, a tight wet hole that was gripping his cock giving him wonderful sensations the full length and circumference of his prick. He watched the person give her one, two, three, four quick strokes and then let out a moan and through clenched teeth grunt “Yesses Yesses.”

“Spunk in my cunt, yes, spunk in my tight wet hole” he watched as his wife dug her nails into his back, he watched the familiar open-mouthed gasps her head thrown back, her ankles locked together behind the stranger holding him in. He watched his own spunk streak out across the carpet, once, twice, three good strong spurts and then the slow oozing of the return to earth. “Yes Yes” she continued, this was a big one, not achieved very often. The person slumped down onto her chest, both of them were breathing heavily. They remained motionless for a minute or two until his flaccid cock slipped from her spunk-filled pussy. He returned to the couch where he picked up his shorts and trousers. He had his back to her, so he did not see the mixture of fanny juice and spunk flowing out of her cunt and down onto the chair. “Yes my sister will be home soon, you’d better go. Thank you for a wonderful end to a great night.” She stood up and walked across to him. They embraced and kissed. He watched as the stranger moved his hand down across her rounded buttock and between her legs; he could tell that he was searching out her spunk sodden pussy. “Don’t, I’ll want it again?” she said pushing him toward the door. “See you next week then,” he said in a sort of questioning way “Maybe” she replied, oh she knew how to tease. He heard the front door open and close, but he dare not leave the safety of the bedroom until he heard the car turn the corner at the end of the street.

He entered the lounge; his wife had returned to the chair and had resumed playing with her pussy. “How was that?” she asked. “Fucking wonderful,” he replied, “I shot my load clean across the wardrobe, I think I will be wanking about that for ages.” “It’s not over yet,” she said, “Lie down.” He lay down on the carpet, his prick rising for the third time that night. She stood up, walked across to him, and stood with her pussy directly above his head. She crouched down inches from his face, asking an unspoken question, he put out his tongue.

She lowered herself still further until her lips met his, he pushed his tongue into her, the salty flavor of spunk and cunt juice met his taste buds. He looked up between her thighs, she was rubbing her tits with one hand and masturbating with the other, she was usually so reluctant to touch her clit in front of him, now, and here she was doing it for the second time tonight. He reached up and supported her by the cheeks of her areas she dragged the swollen lips of her freshly fucked pussy back and forth across his mouth, all the time feverishly rubbing her clit.

He worked his tongue in and out of her as best he could. He knew that he had been successful when the wetness of her cunt was increased by a flood of warm fluid. “Lick my cunt, lick that spunk, fuck oh fuck” she reached yet another large vocal orgasm. She pulled away from him and sat to one side legs curled up beneath her. “God that was so good. He had such a lovely big cock when he slid into me, it felt wonderful. “He knelt at her side.

 

“Tell me everything, what you were thinking, what did it feel like?” he asked as he slid the skin on his erect cock back and forth.

“Well, next week why don’t we video it and then we can both have a wink over it.” For the third time that night, a smaller but very enjoyable jet of spunk spurted from the tip of his cock.

Please purchase this story and support me as an author! Thank you! ~ Jezebel Rose

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