Now, on screen, I saw her eyes light up as she saw my message, and knew what I was saying. She clearly had to act as though nothing was out of the ordinary, that there wasn’t someone watching that she knew.
‘Oh God...’ she breathed, still sounding slightly nervous, grabbing her small breasts and looking off-screen to see if Aaron was on his way back.
Here he was, naked, pumped, ready to go. He took the office chair as Gemma made way for him, brushing her blonde locks nervously, though it looked flirtatious. Her nipples were jutting out, so stiff.
Hubbyofyours: Time to go all the way, don’t you think, Cupcake?
A naughty smile from my naughty wife—she couldn’t hide that—and now she straddled one of his thighs, gazing down as he jacked his cock back to full hardness, almost unable to believe what was happening, what she was doing.
Then she climbed onto him, straddling him, and I watched him angle his cock so that she could slide straight onto it. God. My wife closed her eyes and opened her mouth in a silent moan, and sat down on his lap—his cock buried deep inside her.
Jesus.
My heart was jumping all over the place. My wife was committing adultery, right before my very eyes—the line was now crossed. She was unfaithful. So hot. For a few moments, the significance of what I was seeing almost bypassed me. It was like I was in shock. Gemma moaned and Aaron reached around to squeeze her ass, and his goddamn cock was inside her, inside my wife.
Still sitting locked together, they both turned to the computer to check out what viewers were saying. I sensed Gemma’s need for approval, for validation.
Hubbyofyours: So hot... how does he feel inside you?
She smiled again, broadly, as her eyes flicked across my message. Then she answered, out loud, ‘He feels so good inside me... so hard... so huge...’
She began gyrating her hips, rocking back and forth on him, panting as she gripped the back of the chair and fucked him.
‘Oh God... Oh God...Oh... Oh...’
Then he slipped out, causing a little burst of giggling.
‘Are you okay?’ Gemma asked him.
‘Yeah, yeah.’
‘I thought I hurt you!’
Well, they were new lovers. It was exciting, it was raw, it wasn’t choreographed by years of repetition, like sex was between husband and wife. She lifted her hips, lined him up again and then plunged down on his hard cock once more, her panting turning to moaning and crying. I could hear the wet sounds of their fucking, and Gemma did seem to be very, very wet.
I think she must have had a minor orgasm, and then she was kissing him, and the two of them were calming down again, regaining their breath, turning to check out the responses from their fans.
Aaron turned slightly in the chair, toward the camera, and now I could see his cock disappearing inside her. She was starting up a thrusting motion again, but then Aaron surprised her, lifting her up as he pulled himself up from the chair. She squealed, but went with it, allowing him to take her to the bed, to lie back on it with her on top of him, without so much as disrupting his penetration of her for a moment from what I could see. He was a strong one.
Now I really could see everything as she rode him cowgirl-style, crying and screaming as she sank and then rose and then sank again on that big, thick cock.
It was so strange seeing her fucking him. This woman I knew so well, her body, her love-making, and yet she wasn’t with me, she was over there on someone else’s bed, riding someone else’s body, someone else’s cock plunging into her, hammering like a piston.
After a while, he picked her up again, shifting his body to the edge of the mattress to lift her and turn her before laying her down on the bed. She had other ideas, however, and turned onto all fours, wanting him to take her from behind. With the camera side on, we were given an amazing view of his full length disappearing inside her as they began a slow thrust, Aaron squeezing his hips toward her, Gemma rocking back on her hands and knees to maximize the impact.
He playfully spanked her rear a few times, and made her giggle, but then it was down to the serious fucking. Gemma’s elbows gave way and she pressed her upper body down on the bed while pushing her butt up to receive his cock in her soaking pussy.
His pounding into her accelerated, the whole bed shaking, quivering under them as he grabbed Gemma’s hips and fucked her hard. She was whimpering, yelling, screaming like I’d never heard from her in the bedroom.
‘Yeah... yeah... yeah... yeah...’
Then he stopped, grunting, groaning, ‘shit... shit... shit...’
Another man was coming in my wife’s pussy, and there was no condom whatsoever. I nearly blew a load myself.
Ten
She texted me on the way back, and I couldn’t tell how I’d react when she finally arrived. It was a weird feeling, a weird way to be. To doubt yourself like that.
[Gemma]: Heading home :-) xxx
I was worried that she would come back to me, and I would hate her for what she’d done. It was an irrational thought, one of many I’d had that night, interspersed with the raw thrill of seeing her infidelity. Seeing her being unfaithful.
Cheating on me.
[Gemma]: Getting on the Tube now xx
Sure, it had all turned me on, she had turned me on. Like nothing else before.
But now she was a different person to the one who had gone away to date another man. She had taken another man inside her. She had allowed him, ultimately, to come inside her, leaving traces of himself within her body. She’d had a sexual experience that hadn’t involved me, despite the fact we were married.
I was a complete confusion, a tangle of thoughts—light and dark. Waiting for her, late that night, early that morning, shivering at what she’d done, at what I’d allowed her to do. At the sheer wrongness of it, at the wickedness of it, at the powerful heat. My erection came and went while I waited, and came again. What if she returned to me and I couldn’t get hard? What would she think?
[Gemma]: At Fulham Broadway, walking home xxx
I might truly want her, and yet my manhood could fail me at the critical moment. She would think I was rejecting her, she would think our marriage was over.
What if she came back to me and I couldn’t get over the image of her with Aaron? Sucking on his cock. Fucking him. What if she could never get rid of the smell of him, the taint, even after a multitude of showers, after scrubbing herself raw, after a period of complete cold turkey? What if I could never forgive her, never forgive myself, for what we had engineered?
[Gemma]: You still awake, honey?
She had to be nearly home. She had to be just outside the front door, wondering why I hadn’t responded to any of her recent text messages.
I trembled.
I thought of her on that bed with him, his cock disappearing into her. My cock thickened fully, powerfully. My heart started pounding. I wanted her, more than ever before.
[Michael]: I’m awake, Cupcake. I hope you’re not too exhausted to stay awake a little longer. I am so hard for you xxx
And there she was at the door. I was downstairs, I heard her key scrabbling at the lock in the darkness. Switched on the outside light, opened the door for her. She was in my arms, so blonde, so pretty, so mine—and yet she smelled unfamiliar, her makeup had been mostly wiped away, she was glowing in a way I don’t think I’d seen before.
She was so sexy. I’d never seen her so sexy.
We kissed. She tasted of mint, either toothpaste or gum or breath freshener, cool and clean and clear—but in my mind it was what someone used to cover up something, perhaps a crafty cigarette, or the fact that she had stretched these soft, pretty lips around another man’s big, hard cock. She might have showered after her experience—and she did smell of soap and shampoo—and she might have cleaned her teeth, but my thinking at that time was that it was all just to cover up the signs of her cheating.
And therefore, for me, I saw right through her ruse.
I kissed her mouth passio
nately and hungrily, and as I did so I was kissing the mouth that had sucked so eagerly on her new lover’s manhood. We collapsed on the bed and I slipped the straps off her dress to reveal her bare breasts—no sign of her bra—and I tasted warm, soft skin that had been brushed with another man’s sweat and another man’s come. I lashed her breasts and her nipples with my tongue, where another man had rubbed his cock. I rolled her over, peeling off her panties, and lapped at her pussy, where so recently another man had released his seed.
Each moment, she was clean and fresh for me, and yet my mind returned her to her just-fucked state. Soaked to the skin with her copious juices, it was as though I was marked by the sex of another couple, a couple that didn’t involve me—but that did involve my own exquisite wife. I was making myself crazy with jealousy, just to enhance my arousal.
She came, hard, harder than she had all night—and I would know—and I’m not kidding, harder than she had at any point up to then in our relationship. She was gasping for air afterward, her eyes wide with shock and awe, her cheeks and chest pink with a hot post-orgasmic flush, her skin glowing with perspiration.
Then she was fighting to pull off my clothes, to expose me and reveal how hard I was for her. Shoving me back on the bed to take my bulging manhood in her hands, and then in her mouth. She gripped it at the base and bobbed down on it, taking it deeper than I remembered from before. She didn’t need to spend as much time appreciating it as she had with Aaron—it was still completely familiar to her—but I could see she was reveling in the fact that I was so hard after what I’d seen of her, of what I’d seen her do, and the fact that this was the second of two different cocks she’d had in this single night.
‘Mmm... I’ve been waiting for this all night,’ she said, almost purring as she looked up at me and smiled, seeming to relax and enjoy herself more now that she had confirmed beyond a doubt that I still wanted her, that I would still get hard for her, that I was as good as my word that the whole sharing thing was a turn-on for me.
‘I’ve been waiting all day as well,’ I pointed out.
She reached up to kiss my mouth, and it wasn’t just a peck on the lips like it might have been before. Slow and sedate, I sucked on her lips, tasting the gentle flavor of my own cock on her mouth. I’d been slightly squeamish of it before—call it male insecurity if you like—but tasting her straight after she’d gone down on me made me feel this must have been what kissing her would be like straight after she’d been with him. She even pulled back for a moment, raising an eyebrow to question why I was now kissing her like this, when before I would have avoided it until she’d cleaned her teeth again.
Things were different now.
And, yes, Gemma was different. She was still the girl-next-door that I’d married, she was still well-spoken and pretty and elegantly feminine—but her shyness was replaced by an overt hunger, her coyness toward sex with the lights on had been overwritten by a bold confidence in her own desirability and the reality that I shared her lust, and even her fantasy, albeit from a different but highly compatible angle.
Now she went back to sucking on my cock for a while longer, but looked up into my eyes, an amused smirk on her face as we shared the new reality that we were being naughty together, that we were naughty together. That sex was amusing and fun and silly and sexy and wrong and right all at the same time, and we could both have a huge portion of it, where before we had largely avoided it, it seemed.
Having satisfied her craving for another taste of my cock, she crawled back up my body, slinking like a panther. Kissing my mouth gently, her mind was elsewhere—focusing, as it happened, on lining up the tip of my manhood so she could sink down onto it. I groaned as the intense heat of her body enveloped my sensitive staff.
She whimpered, and then looked me in the eyes as my hardness filled her, and as she descended fully on my shaft, she let out a little squeal of delight. I could see in her eyes she was thinking how insane it was to have two different guys inside her like this, in one night.
‘He never wore a condom,’ I said quietly as she began to stir over me, pumping her hips a little until I mirrored her motion to thrust into her.
‘I wondered if you’d mind about that,’ she said, nodded.
‘I don’t think I minded...’ I said, but it was obvious where I was going with this.
She shook her head. ‘He had to be tested to go on the show. They had it all certified he’s clean. We were all tested.’
I chuckled. ‘You had to be tested to go on the show?’
She shrugged, ‘Yeah... well, they’re all paranoid about ending up in the Daily Mail. You know, "TV show contestants share STDs"... and of course, the vague fear that they’d get sued by someone who got infected.’
‘But it’s not as though the show makes you all sleep with each other,’ I said.
She giggled, ‘You know, everybody’s naked quite a lot all day during the filming—and you only saw the part where we’re out in front of the cameras. There’s all the makeup and styling and so on... and the people who are choosing dates are kept separate, but the rest of us are mixing, chatting, you know.’
‘And the show producers are worried you’ll sleep with each other backstage?’
‘No,’ she said, ‘but you’re meeting people, you know, offering some fairly intimate views... and there’s lots of time to talk and so on. Exchanging of numbers... and then we all go for lunch after.’
‘Right.’
‘So people who don’t get chosen for a date seem to date each other quite often, apparently.’
‘Anyone give you their number?’ I asked her with a grin.
‘A few, actually...’
My cock slipped out of her for a moment, and then without us having to handle anything, it slid straight back in. She was so wet. It reminded me that another man had been inside her, had come inside her.
‘You’re so wet,’ I spoke my thoughts.
‘I’ll get him to wear a condom next time if you’re prefer,’ she said, her face apologetic.
‘No,’ I said, wondering if she was hinting that she might still have traces of his come deep inside her, despite her shower. ‘It’s fine if you know he’s clean. If you trust him. And anyway, ‘next time’?’ I chuckled.
She looked surprised and amused, ‘You’d be okay if I saw him again, right?’
I laughed, and kissed her filthy mouth hard. ‘I guess I would be okay. Especially if I get to watch.’
She moaned, then said, ‘He’s talking about shooting a sex tape. What d’you think about that?’
‘A sex tape?’
‘You know... High def camera. He’d probably release it to one of those porn sites so millions of guys could watch it.’
Millions of guys. Wow. So much for my shy and retiring wife, I had clearly married a closet sex vixen.
I grabbed her head and kissed her, sucking on her mouth, adoring her, as we panted and sweated and rocked together, a bundle of pure sex. I turned her over and fucked her missionary-style—which felt almost completely that I was her husband, reclaiming her.
I don’t know. I guess we had some fairly hot finishes to dates back when we first met, but none of that was anything like this—and nothing like so energetic. This wasn’t supposed to be how it was in marriage. You were supposed to settled down over the years. But we couldn’t get enough of each other—me because she was such a naughty, well-used sex goddess and her, apparently, because I was so obsessed with her new status as an adulterous wife.
She went on all fours and I thrust into her from behind, and it brought to mind how her other lover had done it earlier that night. This wasn’t reclaiming, this was mating. We were animals, and my animalistic instinct was to take her and make her mine. To replace another male’s come with my own inside her.
I’d never fucked her so hard or so furiously, and she never made the kind of grunts and groans before that she did as I pounded into her.
‘Oh shit... oh yeah... oh God... oh God... Oh God...’
She gripped the bedsheets and screamed, and I came harder than I’ve ever come before, the both of us collapsing in a great heap on the bed, kissing and stroking and licking each other as our energy levels fell and our breathing recovered.
God, she was incredible. And it really wouldn’t have been unleashed unless I’d allowed her to sleep with another man.
Eleven
It was six weeks before Gemma had to go back to shoot a follow-up interview with Aaron. The TV show wanted to know whether their date had led to anything interesting happening between the couple, and in particular whether there was any hope of success for a relationship following such an unconventional introduction.
From my point of view, that night was simply another date for Gemma with Aaron. They’d had a few since that first night together, and each time my wife had had a wonderful time pretending she was single again, and perhaps five years younger.
I guess as I headed for my 30th birthday I wasn’t quite as keen as I’d once been to get on the dance floor, so it was great that Gemma could let her hair down and go clubbing all over again. She even met some of Aaron’s friends, which was a little strange, particularly since she had to continue her ruse that she was ‘Alyssa’, whom Aaron had met on that wild TV show, rather than Gemma, who was already married to someone else. But she was having such a good time with her new little social circle, who was I to say no?
And besides, she came home from sleeping with Aaron just as horny for me as ever. And I couldn’t get enough of her—while she was dating Aaron, the energy between Gemma and I was also close to the new relationship energy she was experiencing with him.
‘How did it go?’ I asked her when she returned from her night with Aaron after the final TV interview.
‘Great,’ she grinned. ‘I think the TV people were pretty pleased that Aaron and I have been seeing each other since the show.’
‘I’ll bet they are,’ I chuckled, helping her remove her coat.
A Wife on Show Page 9