by C. C. Morian
The camera jerked madly, now everything moving, Justin’s hand, Emily’s fingers smashed against her pussy, her legs up off the bed, spread wide. Justin pushed deep, holding his fingers in place inside her, spasming his hand against her like he was shooting into her, like the tattooed man was shooting into the woman.
It was too much for Emily, she squealed, her free hand reaching for a man on top of her, for the man who wasn’t there, and she came, clenching around Justin’s fingers, imagining the tattooed man shooting his cum into her, sensing Justin jerking himself off.
The woman on the screen’s face relaxed, a blissful smile. She held her lover inside her long after he had finished.
Just as Emily held her legs open after her long orgasm finally subsided, dreaming about being as filled as the woman had been.
The next night, I didn’t have to suggest we make another choice from the bucket list jar. As soon as I crawled in bed next to Emily she turned and kissed me, not a simple good night peck, but a kiss full on the lips. It was as if she had been waiting in frustration for me to come to bed. Within minutes we were both naked, exploring each other, Emily wet from the instant I touched her.
I wanted to ask her about the video, and about her reaction to it, but I didn’t want to spoil the mood. It wasn’t like I needed to get her excited right now. Whether she was aroused because she was thinking about the video, or whether she wanted to show me she wanted me instead of what she had seen on the video didn’t matter.
I sensed she wanted me inside her, so I reached for a condom, wishing I didn’t have to. Someday soon, I thought.
I almost couldn’t get in her fast enough, Emily was grabbing at me, pulling me down. I loved seeing her like this, feeling her move beneath me, hearing her breathing, seeing her nostrils flare. She was usually so quiet during sex, almost ashamed of enjoying it, but tonight she was more vocal, more open. In the past I had always been very gentle with her, she was so petite and shy I sometimes thought I’d break her. Yet tonight she seemed more—sensual, more into it. Her breathing was faster, and her hands more active, running over my back, even grabbing at my ass. And her legs, spread wider than I had ever remembered, like she wanted me to be as deep as possible.
When we had finished, as good as it felt, I couldn’t help but wonder what had caused this change in her. It had all started with the new outfit, and then the videos. Something had been awakened in Emily, and while marveling over it and enjoying it, a tinge of doubt crept into my mind, wondering if her awakening would lead to lust, or to danger.
Emily awoke the next morning way before the alarm went off. Actually she hadn’t been fully sleeping, just tossing and turning all night. She kept thinking about the porn videos. Not just the specifics, but about how many there had been. She had only glimpsed a few pages, yet some of the categories listed hundreds, thousands, of pictures and videos. And that was just one website.
Were there really so many kinky people?
It was as if she’d glimpsed a whole new world, a world where things went on she couldn’t possibly imagine. And yet, it wasn’t a different world, it was the same world she lived in. Men and women posting videos of themselves, women having sex with other men while their husbands watched. Who were these people? Could they be people who walked by her every day? If she watched enough videos, would she see someone she recognized?
It was enough to make her cringe.
And yet—there was something exciting about it. This whole new world to see. She didn’t have to take part, she could just look. Like reading a book about a far off place. She loved to learn, she just never thought it would be about sex.
Emily always had felt that learning led to growth, to change. Normally she relished the idea, she was fully aware how sheltered her life had been, and for the most part, her learning experiences had been good ones, making her a better person.
For the first time she wasn’t so sure. But there was no doubt a fuse had been lit she could not very easily extinguish. The book had been opened, and her eyes were drawn to the pages.
Or in this case, to the videos.
She looked over at Justin, still in a deep sleep. How good it had felt to be with him last night, feeling him in her. Whatever was changing in her, he clearly liked it. Emily hoped that didn’t mean he had thought there was something missing before. She so hated to disappoint him, he had been nothing but good to her.
Yet she knew Justin had married her for who she was. There was no way that Justin had some long held expectation of her being some wanton woman. Sure, he’d hinted at a few things now and then, but she had taken that as nothing more than him just wanting to find out what she might like.
That had to be it, right?
She worried that she might be setting some new expectations for him that she couldn’t fill. What was he dreaming about right now? Might he want morning sex? Sex every day?
That wasn’t her.
With all these thoughts in her mind it was impossible to go back to sleep. She got up and headed for the shower.
I awoke to the sound of the shower running. It was way earlier than we usually got up. I’d slept soundly, passing out quickly after the intense sex with Emily. She’d had what seemed like a great orgasm, finishing with me, much sooner than she usually did.
Our sex life was on a totally different path. As I lay there, I thought about Emily’s reaction to the porn videos. In some ways, it had been exactly as I had imagined, some reluctance to watch, overcome perhaps by her innate desire for new experiences, and of course because she liked to please me.
But I’d also been surprised at her obvious interest. More than interest. She hadn’t been nearly as turned off as I would have expected, especially after seeing the extent of the porn. I smiled at her initial disbelief over some of the categories, especially the wife sharing. I’d seen my share of porn, but had never watched a wife sharing video. I just never thought it would interest me, and there were so many other choices.
Now I couldn’t get it out of my mind. It was impossible not to think about Emily in that situation. Having sex with another man. The very idea was too far fetched to even consider. Yet, there it was, playing out in my head. Emily kissing another man. Emily taking another man in her mouth. Emily opening her legs, taking another man inside her.
Letting him come inside her.
My cock grew hard under the sheets. Emily would never do anything of that, of course, and that’s what made it especially arousing. Picturing my almost shy, conservative wife, having sex with another man. It was so beyond belief, yet impossible to get out of my head.
And what about Emily’s reaction? The video had been very explicit, leaving little to the imagination. I would have expected her to shut it off, to say it was sick, to turn away from me in disgust, especially after she had seen how excited I had been. Yet she had been transfixed, not able to pull her eyes away. And when I had slipped my fingers in her, she had been soaked. Not from kissing, or foreplay, just the video.
I had fucked her with my fingers just as the tattooed man was fucking the woman in the video. Emily had not only let me, she had thrust her hips up, she had spread her legs wide, inviting me. Had she been thinking about the man on the screen? Or the black man in the BBC video? She’d never mentioned any interest in black men. Was that a fantasy all women had? Or was it just the act that she was reacting to, the decadence of a woman having sex while her husband watched?
Emily had been so transfixed on the video she couldn’t even concentrate enough to jerk me off; she’d clearly wanted me to do it.
Like I was the husband in the video, watching.
I reached for my cock, pretending I was the unseen man in the video, stroking myself as I watched my wife having sex with some unknown man, maybe a total stranger. At first, constantly looking over at me, perhaps to see if I was okay with it all, or to let me know she was only doing it for me. But soon I was almost forgotten, she was so into it she couldn’t even look at me, just as Emily couldn’t look
at me last night.
I had a sexy wife naked in the shower, what was I doing jerking off? I jumped out of bed, my cock poking out my boxers, and I stripped naked as I tripped my way to the bathroom.
Emily preferred baths, but never took one in the morning before work, baths were for late night relaxation. A shower was just more practical on a workday.
Yet it was early, she had a little extra time this morning, so she luxuriated in the warm blast of the shower, closing her eyes, the strong hot stream like a massage. She didn’t even soap up, she just let the water flow over her, needles of heat driving deep into her body.
She let her mind wander, and without meaning to, began to think about the shower she had taken at the resort, when she had masturbated, fantasizing about the black man. Damian. Justin’s new boss.
The way he had flirted with her at dinner making it impossible to keep from squirming under his gaze.
And suddenly she was back there, at the resort, in the pool, Damian’s hands on her. Her fantasy in the shower, Damian there with her. Inside her.
And just as she had that day in the shower, she became aroused, more than the heat of the water driving up her inner temperature. She resisted the temptation to touch herself, she shouldn’t be masturbating before work, she shouldn’t be masturbating at all.
Especially while thinking of another man.
She reached for the soap, she’d busy herself washing up, get out of the shower as fast as possible. Her fingers shook, the soap slippery, instantly making her think of her wetness. The bar of soap fell to the floor and she automatically bent over to retrieve it, the water hitting her in the rear, between her legs. She felt so exposed, her butt up in the air.
She hadn’t planned on washing her hair, but now it was soaked, locks in her eyes, blinding her. She groped on the floor helplessly for the bar of soap, then got on her knees because she didn’t want to fall.
In that instant a cool blast of air surprised her. She pushed her hair aside and came face to face with—an erection.
Justin had opened the shower door and was stepping in, his rock hard penis staring her in the face. She looked up at him, barely able to see, the look of shock on his face matching her own.
They both froze, Justin half in the shower, staring down at her in amazement, Emily on her knees, the water pounding into her back.
Whether it was the guilt over what she had been thinking about, or spurred on by her already aroused body, Emily did what suddenly seemed the most natural thing in the world. She took Justin in her mouth.
Justin gently put his hand on her head and she closed her eyes, using her tongue on him. She still didn’t know exactly what to do, she had so little experience giving oral sex. Yet she’d seen how much it had excited Justin, and she was getting more comfortable having him in her mouth. She gently sucked him, using her fingers to caress his shaft, his sack. She couldn’t hear him, the water drowning everything out, so she focused on the movements of his body to see if he liked what she was doing.
The touch of his hand on her head told her all she needed to know, she was getting it right. At that moment she realized how much she had been missing, this feeling of a man in her mouth was so utterly electrifying, this ability to bring him to hardness. Although he’d already been hard; she wondered what he had been thinking about in bed before getting in the shower. She hoped he had been fantasizing about her, she felt guilty that she had been thinking about Damian and not Justin.
She pushed Damian out of her mind. This was her husband in her mouth. She grabbed Justin’s hand and put in on the back of her head, telling him it was okay to pull her toward him. Making it clear she wanted him.
She let Justin guide her head, one of her hands on his shaft, the other reaching for herself. It was okay to masturbate now, she was having sex with Justin, she was thinking of him, not Damian. Her fingers easily distinguished between her own wetness and the dripping water. She slipped one of her fingers inside, and then, just as Justin had the night before, a second and a third.
No matter how wet, it was always possible to feel the stretching, the opening up. It reminded her of the first video, the one with the huge black man as he entered the woman, stretching her open. Emily spread her fingers, but it wasn’t the same, she knew instinctively it could never be the same.
She stood up quickly, knowing what she wanted.
Emily stood on her tiptoes, reaching for Justin’s lips, wrapping her arms around him. His erection pressed hard on her belly, at the exact same spot Justin had touched when they had watched the video, where he had said the huge cock of the black man would reach. Except that it would be inside her, not outside.
The water filled her eyes, even if she had managed to keep them open she couldn’t see, she could have been kissing anyone, Justin, the tattooed man in the video. Damian.
She needed a man in her.
Emily turned, her body still in contact with Justin, until she was facing away from him. She placed her hands flat on the wall, spread her legs, and held her breath.
She felt Justin’s hands on her hips, but he didn’t enter her. Didn’t he know she was ready?
His hands slid along her legs, he was falling to his knees, his tongue sliding down her sensitive back, to the top of her ass, no, she didn’t want that, she didn’t want to be licked, not that way, not now. . .
She half turned, grabbing at his hands, pulling him back up. “Not that,” she said, not sure if he could even hear her over the rushing water. She turned back to the wall, spreading her legs, an unmistakable message, a scream that no water could smother.
Still he hesitated, and now she understood. He didn’t have a condom.
She was throbbing inside, the lips between her legs puckering, demanding. Just for a minute, they could risk that.
Without turning she reached for his shaft and guided it between her legs. To make sure Justin understood, she used her other hand to spread herself wide open.
“Emily.” Justin’s voice, questioning, wanting.
At least that’s what she thought she heard, it could have been an echo off the tiles.
She wanted him to take her, to thrust in her, to feel herself stretched beyond what her fingers could ever do, beyond what even he had ever been able to do.
Still he hesitated.
Emily pushed back from the wall just as he finally moved forward, and if she hadn’t been so wet it would have been a painful crash. Instead it was a powerful slide, an avalanche, as he entered her in one smooth motion.
For one brief, magical moment, she felt it, the stretching, the opening, the pressure. Then it was gone, overcome by her wetness and her desire.
She lay her head against the wall, the shower so steamy she could see nothing. With each thrust the tiles caressed her cheek. She reached for her clit, rubbing herself as he pushed into her, waiting for the feeling of fullness to return, that initial feeling of when she had been entered. It was gone physically, yet that’s what she focused on, just like the video, feeling her vaginal lips tight around his shaft.
Such an amazing thought, to be stretched so wide she’d feel it even now, even as her body opened up, even as her juices flowed.
She was close, so close. She so wanted him to be as well.
He must have sensed it. “What do you want?” he asked, a hint of caring, this was a momentous decision, yet the concern lost in his guttural need.
And his words, an echo of her fantasy about Damian. “Hurry!” she gasped. “I want you to hurry!”
Her legs shook, her orgasm smashing her against the wall, more powerful than his thrusts. Then he was gone, out, her body reaching for him, too late. Her fingers never stopped even as she knew he was coming, his seed lost in the ocean of water, instead of filling her womb.
It didn’t matter. The tinge of loss in her mind was no match for the potent spasms of elation running through every muscle in her body.
I had a lot of problems concentrating at work that day. My mind kept recreating m
y sex with Emily in the shower. Being inside her without protection for that long.
Emily had been so aroused; it was as if she had read my mind, had realized that I was fantasizing about her that morning. And when I had found her on her knees in the shower, I just couldn’t believe it. Later I had seen the dropped soap, but when I first saw her there, I couldn’t help but think she was waiting for me that way.
And when she had turned around, opening herself up to me. . .
She knew I wasn’t wearing a condom, and yet she still wanted me in her. There was no doubt in my mind. I had always thought we’d discuss it first, in fact, we had talked about it, or talked about talking about it. Having children was something we took seriously, we wanted to make the decision together about when. But this morning Emily seemed driven by some great, uncontrollable need.
I wanted to bring it up that morning, but I could tell that she didn’t want to discuss it. She had busied herself getting ready for work, making small talk. She gave me a quick kiss on the lips as she headed out earlier than usual, as if she didn’t want to stay an extra minute. She was wearing her most conservative outfit, a longish skirt, flats, a too large blazer. Pantyhose. Her hair was tied back, making her look young and innocent, camouflage, perhaps, from our recent wild—at least for us—sex.
My concern about her feelings and what was going through her mind didn’t stop me from daydreaming. Twice I had to leaving meetings because an erection had come upon me. I had to resist the urge to jerk off in the bathroom. But so help me, I couldn’t get it all out of my mind.
What made it even worse was that my boss Damian was in most of my meetings that day. Every time I looked at him I couldn’t help but be reminded of Emily’s reaction to the videos, first the BBC, and then to the wife having sex with the black man. I never had an interest in a man, and was not always sure what women found attractive in men, but I had no doubt that Damian would be perceived as handsome. He wasn’t only powerfully built, but he had a commanding aura, a confidence that even men felt. It wasn’t that I was afraid of him; I’d had my share of scrapes and felt I could take care of myself. It was just that I could easily understand how women would be attracted to him.