Butterflies

  Paul played the concerned, doting husband, his arm protectively around me all the while. I felt on top of the world. My only problem was that I was trying not to whimper with excitement – a situation made worse (better?) by the fact that it was very difficult not to stare at two very conspicuous bulges – one by my side and the other across the room...

  I guess I had always been... well, scared, in a sense, of my own sexuality. It wasn't just simple shyness. Now I was itching for the salesman to be gone – not out of embarrassment (although there was more than just a trace of that), but rather because I wanted to see what Paul would do when the door was closed. I wanted to see just how big a reaction I had managed to bring forth through my boldness.

  It seemed like forever before the guy finally got the message and headed out to his car. I left Paul to see him out and stood waiting in the living room, desperate and panting with excitement. Paul didn't disappoint.

  He rushed back into the house and into the living room, grabbing my head and pulling me into a jaw-wrenching kiss, his tongue probing deep into my mouth. There was no foreplay – unless you count him tearing my dress off – and I was on my back on the sofa in seconds, my legs spread and my arms open, desperate for him. His jeans disappeared over his shoulder, briefs and socks tangled together with them, and he pretty much leapt on top of me, his cock harder and bigger than I'd ever seen it before.

  His very first thrust buried that gorgeous cock deep inside me, but I was too wet to feel any discomfort and too desperate for it to care in any case. We were thrusting together in seconds, hard, hungry and desperate, and when he punctuated a couple of particularly savage thrusts with 'thank-yous' I shook my head.

  "No – thank you!"

  "You really enjoyed it?"

  "I really enjoy this."

  Paul's pace quickened, "Better hope he doesn't come back though. I left the front door open."

  "Perhaps I should hope he does then..." Even as I said it, I realised that, right then, I meant it. This was sex in another dimension – pure unadulterated lust and passion. And if what it took to experience it was me being seen by another man – then hell, it was worth it. In spades.

  "Oh fuck, Stephs! You are so fucking gorgeous!"

  "Then you'd better fill me right up, right now!" The 'now' escalated into a cry of pure delight as my orgasm crashed through me, a tsunami that washed away every ounce of anything other than pure love and lust and desire. Paul's juices exploded deep inside me, sending my mind whirling away in a kaleidoscope of passion.

  I'd hoped deep down inside that the post-performance sex would be great, but this exceeded even my wildest wish. Afterwards we lay exhausted on the sofa, naked and exhilarated, the sweat cooling slowly in a gentle breeze.

  Paul nuzzled my neck, "I love you, Stephs."

  "You'd damned well better."

  "And did you really... you know, enjoy it?"

  I nodded, "God yes. I can't quite believe I did, but yeah, it was... wild and wonderful."

  "I'll have no problem keeping my end of the bargain now."

  "Your end?"

  "I swore I'd do anything you wanted me to, remember?"

  "Oh yeah." I grinned at him, "I think I know what I want, but give me a few hours to think about it, okay?"

  "After this morning, your wish is my command."

  "Good," I said, "This is not part of the deal, but there is something I could use right now."

  "Oh yeah?"

  "Yeah," I said, reaching down and grasping his semi-tumescent cock. "And don't bother getting up to close the front door first."

  *!*

  In the days that followed I did a lot of soul searching (in between bouts of the most exhausting, passionate, wild sex with Paul). I asked myself a thousand questions, trying to come to terms with the fact that I had got such a kick out of showing my body off to a complete stranger. I concluded that my reaction was a direct result of Paul's reaction to my action (so yah-boo Newton) – but that it had unlocked something new within me. No matter how many ways I interrogated myself, I couldn't deny that I had got an incredible thrill out of exhibiting my body.

  What made it even better was that my conscience was clear. The guy went away with the belief that I was the victim of an unfortunate accident, a smile on his face, and a gentle throbbing in his groin. Paul was grateful beyond words and seemed to be not a little in awe of me. And me? I felt empowered and constantly excited. I also discovered that I wanted to try the whole thing again...

  Another thing that occupied my mind was what I was going to demand of Paul by way of payment for my audacity. The day before we left our friends' house, the solution presented itself to me, thanks to Paul.

  We were, yet again, luxuriating in another bout of sex. Mutual soreness dictated that our lovemaking was a gentler affair than it had been of late but was no less passionate for that. I was moving surely towards climax when Paul paused, raising himself on his hands.

  "I love this bit," he said, grinning down at me.

  I wriggled against him, urging him to continue, "I'm too close for games! C'mon!"

  "Yeah, that's the bit," he teased, "The bit where you're so close that nothing's gonna stop you. And then I get to watch as you come, see you all helpless as you lose control."

  I was whimpering by now, little shivers coursing through me as I began to lose the control that he spoke of. "Please!"

  "You're totally helpless when you come, you know. And totally beautiful."

  What he said next gave me the solution to my choice for Paul's payment.

  "Stephs, my wonderful wife, I'd love someone else to see how beautiful you are when you come."

  The image flashed into my mind. Me beneath Paul, my orgasm starting. Me helpless, exposed... I let out a wail and felt the first true spasm run through my belly. The intensity of that first wave had me gasping – but I had enough breath to say "Okay, I'll do it."

  The look of shock on Paul's face as understanding dawned brought another wave shuddering through me. Paul forgot the soreness and began to pump me hard and fast, muttering nonsense words of love and lust, his pace quickening through my shudders and yelps of delight until he roared, his body becoming rigid as he ejaculated deep within me.

  It was ages before we had enough breath to talk but when we did, I lost no time in telling him exactly, apparently, what he wanted to hear.

  "That's how you're going to repay me then. Organise things so that someone walks in on us while we're... well, fucking. Three rules: it has to be a stranger and someone we won't see again, it can't be something that will end up with us in jail or something, and the no touching rule applies as well. Okay?"

  He had to pick his jaw up off the floor before he answered – and even then, it was with a question. "Are you serious?"

  "Yep. And you did say anything."

  "Well, yeah, sure. But somehow it doesn't seem like a payment – more like a reward."

  "First off, you've got to organise things and that won't be easy. Plus, you've got to make sure that I don't chicken out at the last minute."

  His cock was still inside me and it stiffened in a matter of seconds, "Oh baby! Consider it done."

  *!*

  For the next few days I had to keep pinching myself to make sure I hadn't dreamt that I said those things to Paul. Or that I wasn't dreaming about genuinely wanting to go through with it. It was of course, all true, and it was equally true that I was coming to terms with the fact that there had been a change in me – my reflection in the mirror even looked different. I felt powerful and I felt sexy and I felt adored. But for all that, I began to get very nervous. What I'd asked Paul to organise was a big step up from the 'accidental' flash of my boobs – but the nervousness was nine-parts excitement to one-part fear, and it had me in a constant state of arousal.

  Paul called me on the Thursday afternoon and even before he spoke a word, I knew that he'd come up with a plan. Okay, it could well have been wishful thinking, but I was right in any case. He told
me that he was taking the next day off, and that I should do the same – which was never a problem for me, and which I would have done even if it had been, under the circumstances. Other than that, he wouldn't tell me anything.

  Paul was similarly reticent that night and even the threat – empty threat, of course – of withholding my sexual favours failed to get him to tell me what the plan was. All he told me was that we would be setting off early to a town about forty miles away, and that we had an appointment there at midday. Oh, and that I was going to have the time of my life.

  His secrecy only served to heighten my nervousness – and my anticipation. Judging by the sex that night, I wasn't the only one in a state of nervous excitement...

  Friday morning dawned bright and clear and, at a loss for anything else to do or say, I followed Paul's instructions and dressed in a smart business suit – grey cotton skirt and jacket over a silky white blouse, with skimpy lacy bra and panties and a pair of shiny, grey hold-up stockings. Paul wore one of his best suits, a charcoal grey number with a dark grey shirt, pale grey tie and black briefs. Together we looked like a smart, successful young couple – which, Paul told me, was just the effect that we needed.

  I was a bundle of nerves as we approached our destination but looking back, I'm rather glad that I didn't know what I was going to be facing. To have known before we set out would probably have given me enough time to lose my nerve, but this way it all happened too fast for me to turn chicken.

  Shortly before we arrived in the town centre Paul turned to me and told me that we had an appointment with an up-market estate agent.

  "An estate agent?"

  "Yeah. We are looking to buy a very expensive property just outside of the town, and the company handling the sale are expecting us to be a couple of big-shot City types."

  "Hence the fancy dress," I nodded. "But how does that fit in with the... um, plan?"

  "Simple," Paul grinned at me, pulling up outside the agency, "We're going to be taken to the house by the salesman who has promised to leave us to view the property for an hour before collecting us and bringing us back here."

  "Leave us on our own in a strange house? No one living there?"

  "Exactly."

  "I still don't see-"

  "Also simple. He's going to leave us there for an hour. I wonder what we might get up to while he's gone, huh?" He unbuckled his seat belt and flashed me another, dirtier, smile. "And I wonder whether either of us will notice how fast time passes?"

  I sat frozen for a few seconds, my mind a whirl. It was a good plan – but could I really play my part? Could I really-

  "C'mon Stephs. Mr Jenkinson is expecting us."

  Sensibly, Paul wasn't giving me time to demur or time to get cold feet. I climbed out of the car, straightened my skirt, and followed him into the offices, my heart hammering in my chest.

  *!*

  Mr Jenkinson was clearly impressed with the look of his prospective clients (even if the young woman didn't seem to be able to speak!), and for my part, he was old enough to be no particular threat and young enough that he should be impressed with whatever he might end up seeing. Always assuming there would be something to see.

  On the short ride out to the house I did some serious soul-searching and came to the conclusion that Paul's plan was pretty much perfect. And there was always the thought that I would have enough time to play with if I decided I couldn't go through with it. I also came to the conclusion that I wanted to go through with it. So much so that my knees were quite literally knocking by the time we walked into the house.

  The place was massive and beautiful. A rabbit-warren of light, airy rooms whose details were totally lost on me. Jenkinson gave us a brief tour of the property, checked his watch and promised to return in exactly one hour.

  The second the sound of tyres on gravel dwindled to silence, Paul took my hand and led me upstairs. The master bedroom was directly in front of us, and he marched me inside, spun me around to face him, and kissed me deeply and urgently.

  After a few seconds he broke away and looked into my eyes. "Front door is open, we're all alone for another fifty-six minutes, and I love you so very much. What do you think of the plan now?"

  I had to swallow before I could reply, "I think it's a definite ten out of ten."

  "So, if I start to undress you, you won't object?"

  "I might even insist. I've never been undressed in a strange house before."

  "And certainly not when you know someone will be back in just under an hour, right?"

  I giggled, nervous and excited, "I can't quite believe we're going to do this."

  "You mean we definitely are then?"

  "Ninety-nine percent sure. It's just too good a plan to waste. Besides, I said you'd pay me back and you can't let your wonderful wife down, can you?"

  Paul ran his hands down the front of my jacket, squeezing my breasts gently, "I love you, Stephs."

  "And I, you. Now how exactly is this going to work?"

  "I figure we relax a bit first, get comfortable. Start to have some real fun in say... forty minutes?"

  "You... you mean make sure he catches us while we're actually... doing it? I mean... I want him to get to see me... but... I'm worried I'll chicken out."

  Paul kissed me again, gentler, "We'll see what happens then, won't we? As long as he gets to see what a gorgeous wife I have."

  "Yeah, I guarantee that much." I meant it. I wanted it – badly.

  Paul pushed my jacket off my shoulders and slipped it down my arms. With a grin, he walked with it to the door and threw it down the stairs. "Well," he said, turning back to me, "I wouldn't want you to be able to get dressed too easily when Jenkinson gets back, would I?"

  "Suits me," I unbuttoned my blouse, slipped it off and joined Paul on the landing. With a grin I threw it after the jacket. "Just so you know I'm serious." ‘And just so I know I'm serious’, I thought.

  He let out a whistle, "Christ, Stephs, I can't believe how lucky I am!" He moved his hands to my hips and pulled me close, his lips finding mine as he unzipped my skirt.

  Within another minute I was standing naked on the landing, my skirt, bra and panties strewn down the stairs. It took me less than thirty seconds to rid Paul of his clothes, and were soon giggling with excitement, naked and aroused – in Paul's case, massively so.

  When Paul took my hand and tugged me towards the stairs, I didn't resist. We went back down and then toured each room, my nakedness making me feel exposed, vulnerable and very, very wet. It didn't exactly help that every time we stopped to kiss Paul's erection prodded me firmly in the belly. After a while I was sure I wasn't going to able to wait much longer and told my husband.

  Paul laughed and pointed at the clock. Somehow, thirty minutes has passed and the sudden realisation that we were halfway through the wait had my pulse racing again.

  I pointed to the stairs, "Should we go up now?"

  Instead of answering, Paul took my hand and led me to the rear of the house. Without a word, he slid open the patio windows, letting a breeze wash over our naked flesh. He positioned me right in the window, placing my hands on the frame at shoulder height. Still silent, he knelt in front of me and nudged my thighs apart with his face.

  The first contact of his lips on my already swollen pussy had me shuddering. The breeze was divine, his tongue a perfect complement, and his gentle probing had my knees trembling. He teased and satisfied by turn, his movements oh-so slow and gentle one moment, hard and urgent the next. I lost myself in the moment, all other thoughts flying away, intent only on the pleasure my husband was bringing me.

  I had my eyes closed when I felt his mouth move away, and I murmured a protest. I opened them when I heard his soft yet shaky laugh.

  "Stephs? We've only got ten minutes now."

  From heavenly delirium to heart-hammering excitement took only as long as my brain needed to understand Paul's words. My mouth went dry and my whole body felt as if a wild, gently electric current was being pass
ed through it. I swallowed to free my tongue and then nodded, "Good!"

  Paul rolled his eyes in delight, "You're ready then? You're going to go through with it?"

  "Put it this way," I managed, "I very much need to come, and I don't think I could stop you making me even if I wanted to."

  "Oh fuck, Stephs! You are so hot."

  I looked down at Paul's erection, shocked at just how big he looked, "And you're not?"

  "You know it."

  On the way to the bedroom I glanced down at my scattered clothing, realising – truly realising – for the first time that there was no turning back once we got to the bed. If I still had any lingering doubts, they evaporated in the heat of my need and passion. I let out a giggle and kicked my discarded bra down another couple of stairs.

  Our movements were now urgent as we both realised that this was going to happen – and that we had very little time left before Jenkinson returned. If he was early, we would barely be started, and I was torn between wanting a lot of pleasure before he arrived and wanting him to get here straight away to see me so naked and aroused.

  Paul virtually threw me onto the bed, pausing long enough only to look down at me spread-eagled and totally exposed before he climbed after me. In a matter of a couple of seconds, his throbbing cock was nudging at my pussy, my labia welcoming him with warmth and wetness like never before. When he slid that length inside me, I let out a cry of ecstasy.

  He held himself there for a few seconds, his shoulders trembling as he took his weight on his arms and smiled down at me, "This is how he's going to find us, Stephs, unless you say different right now. Last chance."

  Even at the moment he was giving me a chance to back out I felt love surge through me to match the intensity of my lust. Every last lingering shadow of doubt dissipated before it and I returned the smile. "Just do it, husband."