Tonight, though, I felt tired, and suddenly dreaded the possibility that Harry would want to stay up all night drinking. As well as we got on now, it was still really late.
I headed for the spare room, thinking perhaps that if I forced the issue, the two of them would simply retire to the master bedroom and enjoy themselves. Sure, I was hoping to overhear them. Wasn’t that what Courtney had brought me here for? Or perhaps why she’d brought him here, rather than going with him to his place.
I heard Harry’s voice behind me, quiet but clear. “Hey.”
Turning, I saw that Courtney had scampered away. The corners of my mouth curved up as I suspected that the great lover might suddenly request some kind of advice from me. How should he please her? How should he deal with the fact that he was about to lose her all over again?
But he beckoned to me, ushered me over, to follow him. Uncomprehending, I followed.
“You want to see this, right?” he said with half a grin.
My heart almost seemed to seize up—but maybe the fact that half my blood supply was suddenly dwelling somewhere between my legs eased the stress on my poor heart and saved me.
Harry calmly offered me the armchair in the corner of the master bedroom, and perched himself on the edge of the mattress.
“I guess I can see why you do it,” he said now, offering me a smile that was genuine and friendly.
“This is still bothering you?” I laughed, trying to make light of things.
He nodded, shrugged. “It’s like going to a movie starring Scarlett Johansson,” he said. “You want to see her getting naked, right? You want to see her banging some guy.”
Courtney’s voice came from the en-suite, “Why do guys all like her? She’s so overrated.”
Harry replied to her, “She looks damn fine in movies.”
Courtney said, “She has big tits. That it?”
“It’s not just the big tits,” Harry laughed. Then he said to me, referring to my wife, “She’s your favorite movie star, right?”
I nodded. Swallowed.
Harry said, “When I see Scarlett Johansson on screen banging some dude, I don’t think about how embarrassing it is she’s with some other guy and not me. She’s a movie star. I enjoy how damn hot she is.”
I nodded again, said quietly, “It’s something like that.”
Oh, it was a hell of a lot more complicated than that. And with Courtney being wicked with some other guy, I had a very real need to claim her back afterward—that feeling did not apply to a movie star, Scarlett Johansson or otherwise. But if the explanation worked for Harry, I was happy enough.
And now Courtney sauntered out of the bathroom wearing black bra and panties, black thigh-high stockings, garter belt. Damn.
“You still wish Scarlett Johansson was here?” she said cheekily as she paused, standing there between the two of us men.
“Uh-uh,” Harry said diplomatically, whether it was the truth or not.
“No way,” I said, and I was telling God’s own truth. She looked stunning. I could smell a strong waft of that exotic perfume of hers, the one she’d started wearing only recently, which still leant me the notion of adultery.
Courtney turned and perched beside Harry on the edge of the bed. “Good, because I don’t have to be here, you know,” she teased. “I could go right back out there to some nightclub if I wanted to and find some other guy to give me a bed.”
Harry looked at her calmly and laughed. Said, “And risk losing all of this for someone who might have a tiny dick?”
“Okay, that would be the risk,” Courtney was laughing now. Pulling up her legs to sit there cross-legged. Brushing her hair out of her pretty face. Looking so damn good with him.
“And you’ve been telling me for a while how hot it would be for hubby to be here for once,” he said. I felt my hardness throb. Not just for the full confirmation of what was about to happen, but the fact that I was part of the experience for Courtney—she wanted me there to watch. She was such a tease, not telling me what was going on.
“Okay, you got me,” she giggled. “You can fantasize about Scarlett Johansson if you have to.”
She smirked at me, and then leaned in to kiss Harry right there in front of me. God, they had chemistry. If you’d asked me beforehand, I’d have told you I wanted my wife to have chemistry with her lover. But this was intimidating. These guys had history. They were so tender together, so affectionate.
“This okay, honey?” Courtney said breathily as she pulled herself back from it for a moment. God she looked sexy—flushed from the excitement, pupils dilated, chest heaving already.
“Uh-huh,” I said, a frog firmly in my throat.
“You know you can stop us any time you need...”
She was kidding, knowing how turned on I was, knowing how I reacted when I saw them doing this through her phone. But it was something different in the flesh. And the kissing... somehow it was worse than fucking. The affection was more apparent... the raw attraction between them.
Yet as is the way with this peculiar affliction of mine, the sense of risk only made things more intense. The feeling that Courtney was enjoying this only made it that much more powerful to watch.
They closed their eyes as they kissed. Hands traveled slowly and gently to tilt chins and brush through hair, to cradle jaws and caress necks.
My body pulsated with lust and jealousy, my stomach swam with nausea and fear, my erection raged at how beautiful they were together.
Oh, it took an age, and then this other man’s hands were trailing slowly down over my sweet wife’s chest, between her black lace-clad breasts and over her pale stomach, dwelling only briefly on the garter belt that seemed almost like some kind of binding, preventing her escape.
I watched them kiss and his hand skirt around her hip, and over her thigh, before lodging between her legs.
“Oh God...” she sighed as he touched her there. Glancing over at me to check I was still on board. I was. And I knew exactly how wet she was as his fingers sank beneath her panties. It drove me wild.
My Courtney moved her hand back, placing it on the mattress by her hip, out of the way so that I could watch Harry’s fingers stroking her sex as they continued to gently kiss.
She was smiling ear-to-ear as they explored each other’s lips right there in front of me. Giggling from time to time, mid-kiss. All these little touches that didn’t seem part of my bedroom experience with her, the little details that had been ironed out of our marital sex over the years for the benefit of efficiency and on account of our familiarity. It was, after all, a date rather than a marital liaison. It struck me that she would have missed out on these little touches if we’d stayed purely monogamous the rest of our lives.
I liked that she worked on stripping him out of his clothes, teasing him and his hardness along the way. That he couldn’t stop running his hands through her long, silky dark hair. That he took off her panties and breathed her scent like an addict. That they played with each other and laughed with each other and smiled at each other.
Whether or not they were deliberately playing up their foreplay because this was the first time I was physically there watching, it was no matter. It was inspiring. Made me want to up my own game the next time Courtney did me the honor of taking me to her bed.
When she was down to nothing but her stockings, and he was wearing only boxers, I watched him sink down onto the floor in front of her, parting her legs, dropping down to cover her sex with his mouth.
“Oh honey... it feels so good...” she sighed, and I was just dumbstruck.
With envy seeping from my every pore I saw him sucking on her pussy, nibbling gently on her labia, making her squirm under him. I could smell her responding to him now, and it made me shiver, my blood warmed by adrenaline.
It struck me that he wasn’t just doing it to show off, to impress me or even Courtney. He wasn’t even doing it merely for her pleasure or his own. He was experiencing her one last time—taking his time,
never rushing—because after this he would be in the desert and there would be no one for him.
Then my wife was taking him into her mouth, Harry lying on the bed and Courtney kneeling on the floor in front of me.
“I’m gonna miss this...” she said.
Harry actually laughed. “You’ll be too busy to miss anything,” he said.
I could almost touch her ankles. She went at him from an angle so that I might see, but even now she was laughing and giggling, teasing him and playing with him as she licked his shaft, as she pumped his full length, as she took his balls into her mouth, as she stroked his large manhood all over her soft face.
Enjoying the sheer naughtiness of all this, her contact with another cock right in front of her dear husband.
After that, Courtney stood and turned to me, and I thought perhaps she was about to ask me to leave. As I sat there in the armchair, she loomed over me, her pale skin slightly glistening from perspiration, her face pink from the exertion of sucking another man’s big prick. Her make-up was slightly running, but it was a sexy look on Courtney—or at least, for a husband who shared.
“You really do enjoy this, then?” she asked me, as though she needed to know by now.
“Uh-huh.”
She leaned over my lap, ducked down to kiss me. I craned forward in the chair to reach her mouth, tasting the salt on her skin, and the strange essence of another man lingering on her lips. I didn’t flinch. Feeling some need to prove my passion to her, I kissed her forcefully, showing her how much I loved her, how much I appreciated her.
She closed her eyes, enjoying our kiss. I kept my eyes open and saw Harry lining up behind her. I felt the jarring of her body against me as he entered her.
She moaned in my mouth as we kissed, every time he thrust into her. I held her pretty face in my hands, stroked her clammy, dampening hair as I kissed her, and as another man fucked her from behind. I tasted him on her lips—such a bizarre thing, but it only thrilled me more.
Her hands dipped down to press against the hardness in my pants—before unfastening my belt, unzipping my fly.
“Show me,” she said.
It felt very, very strange whipping it out in front of another man—a naked man. But since he was standing there fucking my wife, the strangeness was soon diluted by the strangeness of this whole affair.
She gazed down on it, somehow impressed despite everything. Her hands shifted from my thighs, where they had been propping her up as Harry pounded her from behind, to my shaft. As she held on tight, it wasn’t so much that she was actively pumping me, more that she was holding my prick for dear life.
To be honest, even with what I’d seen before, it was a little shocking just how hard he fucked her. Every impact drove the air from her chest, made her whole body shudder, even shook a few beads of sweat from her. But the way she was moaning, begging for more... it was irresistible.
And there was her wedding ring, sparkling as another man fucked her from behind.
But then she was being pulled back, Harry lying on the bed, Courtney moving to straddle him, facing my way. I leaned forward for a better look, and felt a little light-headed as I saw that thing—another man’s cock—squeezing into the familiar sight of my wife’s pussy time and time again, glistening with her juices.
“Oh fuck... Oh God... oh Jesus...” she moaned, and leaned forward as she straddled him, seeking me out. I had to stand to kiss her, and now I caught sight of Harry’s face. He didn’t seem concerned. That was perhaps surprising to me.
“Oh God... his cock is amazing...” she whispered to me, continuing to gyrate her hips over him.
She held onto my shoulders and as he made her come, the sheer bliss on her face, the way her body shook and trembled from the force of it, the power of the forbidden pleasures of another man’s cock driving deep into her—it was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.
“God, I love it when you watch,” she said, pulling herself off him, as though my presence there had given her the orgasm rather than his almighty weapon.
I sat back down in the chair, feeling almost as though it wasn’t my right to intervene here, it was their date: Harry was fucking her, not me.
She turned around, but lifted one foot over my legs and stood over me, facing Harry. I couldn’t see her face—was she teasing him? Taunting him because my hard cock was only inches away from her pussy now?
He stood, again seeming more curious about me being there than threatened or put off. Courtney shifted back a little, up my body, her stockings grazing against my sides as she moved, her delicate behind poised over my face so that I could smell the strong scent of sex from her.
She pushed out her butt, ducking down as Harry held his own shaft for her to take with her hands and her mouth. I was shocked and thrilled as she lowered her sex to my face, her pale flesh framed by black garters, stocking tops, her garter belt.
I lapped at her, tasting the salty, tangy flavor of their sex—her arousal and perhaps his trace evidence, as my wife now worked him back to hardness with her mouth. It felt so wrong, so forbidden, so taboo, to enjoy her like this, her puffy, reddened sex fresh from a fucking. I held apart her creamy buttocks and sucked on her pussy, loving every strange moment.
When he was hard again, she eased forward and Harry was back on the bed where she could straddle him and take his erection back inside her. I watched again, mesmerized, as she reached behind herself to slip him in, and their juices coated his shaft.
“Here,” she said, breathless, patting the mattress next to her. I was unsure, but willing. I lay down there beside her lover and she turned to take my hardness in her mouth. Two cocks at once. Her wedding ring prominent as she pumped mine, as she sucked on mine.
And she didn’t look like this was the first time she’d ever done this. I wished I’d known her in college. Maybe back then I wouldn’t have meant anything to her, though. Or I might have been a fly-by-night lover instead of a long-term sharing keeper.
After a while, Harry pulled back, possibly needing a breather, though he didn’t get much of one since Courtney simply turned to him and took hold of his cock in her hands, stretching her lips around his girth.
He glanced at me, and there was some kind of signal in his eyes. Your turn, he was saying silently. He looked far from certain about it. He didn’t actively want me to fuck her just then, but he was curious about how it would feel.
I picked myself up off the bed and stepped around behind her as she went to town on his cock, kneeling on the edge of the mattress. Harry wasn’t looking at me, but I got the feeling he was monitoring the situation from the corner of his eye.
Taking things slowly in case he changed his mind, I stroked the head of my hard cock over the soft flesh of her pleasingly round behind, gradually getting closer and closer to her hot pussy.
Holding onto her garter belt, I rubbed my tip between her buttocks, slowly up and down, feeling the heat, the slippery oil over her pussy. He was holding her head as she bobbed up and down on him, controlling her rhythm. I finally eased my way inside her pussy, and heard her low moan muffled by his manhood.
I found my heart rate picking up even further as I slid inside her—she was so wet, so slippery. More so than usual, even the moments when she was particularly turned on. Had he come inside her? God. He’d planted his seed deep inside her.
Oh, she was on birth control. But the realization ignited the biological imperative in my male genome, injecting adrenaline into my bloodstream, making me want her more than ever.
I felt my cock swell further inside her, if that was possible, and the adrenaline pushed me to thrust hard into her, grabbing her hips with firm hands.
“Oh God... honey... Jesus... that’s so good...” she moaned as my cuckolded body strove to reclaim her, to redress any suspicion that she wasn’t mine, that I wasn’t leader of this little pack.
Jesus it felt so good. Her pussy squelching as I piled into her, because it was filled with another man’s come.
I glanced up to catch Harry watching me, watching us. He noticed me catch him, and his eyes darted away. Oh, so hot. I leaned forward to hold Courtney’s hair, keep it out of her face as she sank down on this other man’s cock. And after a while, I was gently pushing and pulling her head, moving her, controlling her movement on his manhood while fucking her adulterous pussy from behind.
I would never have ever predicted such a thing would happen. Me, involved in a threesome. I’m guessing Harry wouldn’t have predicted sharing a woman, either. Not in a million years. But it was fine. The two of us guys moved around each other, gave way to each other, took turns with her, never interfering but always fair with the beautiful woman between us, and as the night wore on we leisurely enjoyed ourselves with her, and she enjoyed herself with us. And if one or other of us came, things might slow a little, but generally kept on going until we were all back up to speed again.
I don’t even know how late it was that we ended up collapsing together on the bed, sweaty, fulfilled, exhausted.
I woke up, eventually, in the late morning to find my wife facing me, but spooned up against Harry, who was in the middle of fucking her right there next to me on the bed.
She smiled and kissed me quietly, her hands wandering down to find my hard cock—checking for my response, though, rather than wanting to pleasure me just then. I feigned sleep, letting him just do as he wanted with her. There was a tangible sense in the air that his time was running out, that he would have to leave very soon. There was an airplane waiting for him to carry him across the ocean.
I could simply bide my time and enjoy that strange frisson, that unlikely buzz that came with my beloved, exquisite wife making love to another man before my very eyes.
I’d get to take her for myself again soon enough. And I had a lifetime of this to look forward to.
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Afterword by Max Sebastian
Out of His League: A Hotwife Novel Page 16