by Bart Tracer
I leaned forward and took her hand, my elbows resting on the table. “You know, maybe we should get you a few outfits for the trip. It's been a while since you bought any new clothes. I think I should take you shopping.”
“Really?!” her eyes sparkled like diamonds. “That does sound fun!”
“Well, I do want you to look your best for him!” I winked.
Chapter 7
A few days after my conversation with Lance, I found myself being dragged down the Main Street of Glenton from one store to another. Our ranch was about ten miles from Glenton, a town of about 8,000 people. While it could hardly be called metropolitan, it was large enough to support numerous clothing stores, and Lizzie seemed determined to visit each and every one.
Time and again that day, I found myself sitting self-consciously on a chair, holding her purse, as she disappeared into the dressing room with a stack of dresses, skirts, blouses, and various other female garments, the names of which I didn’t even know. After a while, she would emerge and do a little turn for me, asking my opinion. Dutifully, I gave each outfit an up or down vote, which oddly seemed to have little effect on what she actually purchased. At 10 o’clock, my belly started to rumble. By noon, I was starving, absolutely famished, and I was starting to get irritable.
Elizabeth could tell I was dragging and finally took pity on me. She dragged me into the local diner and set me up with a greasy burger and fries. It was the most delicious thing I think I have ever tasted. Ten minutes after it hit my stomach, I was like a new man. Oh, the roborative power of food!
As I sat, chatting with my wife in the diner’s corner booth, I gazed out the plate glass windows, watching a dusty, dented old Fairlane make its way slowly down Main Street, when my eyes were drawn to a sign on one of the shops opposite. “Lana’s Lace and More” was emblazoned above the display window, which sported two mannequins attired in gauzy white undergarments. That’s new, I thought. Catching Lizzie’s eye, I nodded toward it.
“Ever been in there?” I asked.
She turned to look over her shoulder and, realizing which establishment I meant, quickly spun back around.
“No!” she whispered, embarrassed.
“Why not?” I asked innocently.
“Bill!” she looked furtively around. “That’s a sex shop!” The last two words were scarcely even a whisper.
“Don’t be silly!” I chided, getting to my feet and taking her by the hand. “Let’s go check it out.”
I picked up the check, tossed a $5 bill on the table for our waitress, and made my way to the cash register. Lizzie avoided my eyes as I paid for our meals, but she was blushing profusely. Thanking the cashier, I held the door for my wife, then took her by the hand and started across the street.
“Bill, no!” Lizzie protested.
“Come on, Baby,” I urged. “Just a quick peek!”
She looked around and, finding no one watching, she matched my stride. Her blush hadn’t faded, but now I saw a spark of excitement in her blue eyes. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go in…she just didn’t want anyone to see her going in. We reached the other sidewalk and stopped before the door, which sported a small sign stating “18+ Only!” She looked up at me, biting her lip, and then I opened the door wide, holding it as she quickly stepped past me into the store.
It took just a moment for our eyes to adjust to the dim light of the store after the brightness of the sunlit street. But when they did, we were astonished by what we saw. One half of the store seemed to consist of lingerie, tastefully arranged on racks or displayed prominently on seductively posed mannequins. There was erotic clothing in every conceivable form, from demur bridal sets to delicate lace to slutty fishnets and aggressive leather outfits that seemed designed more to instill fear than arousal.
The other half, located at the rear of the shop and separated from the front by a low wall, contained a large variety of sex-related products. Enormous glossy posters mounted high on the wall showed vampish porn stars in alluring outfits. From our vantage point in the front, it was impossible to make out many details, but there were long racks of x-rated videos and what were obviously vibrators and dildos of various size. A large magazine rack near the front of the section openly displayed an assortment of pornographic magazines.
I stood agape, mesmerized by the sensual sights that surrounded me. Suddenly, clothing shopping with my wife had become very much more interesting…
“Oh! Oh my!” Lizzie exclaimed at my elbow.
Tearing my eyes from the diaphanous attire before me, I looked at my wife. She stood, much as I had, with her mouth hanging open as her pretty eyes darted from one rack to the next. Her right hand now pressed insistently against her chest above her perfect little breasts as she studied a silk corset. Her breathing came in ragged little gasps as she reached out with her left hand to gently stroke the smooth fabric.
“Oh God, Bill! Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?” she whispered to me.
I moved closer and bent my lips to her ear, “Why don’t you try a few things on?”
“Oh no, Bill!” she shook her head. “I just couldn’t!”
“Come on, Baby! For our trip… for Lance!”
Her face turned to me, her eyes now glazed with lust. “Is that what you want, Bill?” she whispered excitedly. “Would you like to buy me some lingerie… for my lover?!”
I nearly came in my pants. Now it was my turn to blush, my cheeks burning like a roman candle. I swallowed hard as I looked into her eyes, then began to nod rapidly.
“Yes, Lizzie! Please!”
“Alright then, Sweetie! Why don’t you go check out the section in back, while I put together a few things here. Give me about 15 to 20 minutes. Okay?”
With a quick peck on the cheek, she shooed me away. I nodded mutely and shuffled toward the back of the store. Without her by my side, I felt like everyone was watching me. I was very nervous, avoiding the cashier’s eyes as I entered the rear section. But, as I began to look around, I soon forgot my embarrassment.
Passing an endcap filled with massage oils and lubricants, I walked down the aisle, looking at the videos on display. Glossy DVD covers advertised films depicting sex in all its myriad forms. There were films showing group sex, lesbians, interracial couples, and various other kinks. It was all very exciting, but nothing really piqued my interest. Then, at the end of the aisle, I discovered a section that took my breath away.
Here, in neat little rows, there was a collection of perhaps 50 videos dealing with naughty wives. I felt my heart beat faster as I picked up first one, then another, rapidly reading the descriptions on the backs. I was surprised to find that my own personal kink was apparently shared by a great many men; men who became sexually aroused watching their wives in the arms of another man.
I felt a sense of exhilaration as I looked at these videos. I was enthralled. When I found one starring a woman that resembled Elizabeth, I knew I had to have it. Plucking it quickly from the rack, I hurried to the cash register, eager to pay before Lizzie saw what I was doing. As I stopped in front of the counter, I looked up and was surprised to see a large dildo behind the cashier. A dildo that looked shockingly like Lance’s equipment. On a whim, I pointed to it.
“And that,” I said to the pimple-faced kid manning the register.
He nodded, bored, and placed it on the counter next to the video I had selected. His fingers tapped nimbly on the keyboard in front of him, adding the items efficiently. He gave me my total and I fished out my wallet. As I counted out the bills, he put my purchases in an opaque plastic bag. I muttered a thanks and turned away from the counter to see Lizzie coming toward me with a large plastic bag of her own.
I walked toward her, smiling, and kissed her cheek, “Hey Baby! Did you find something nice?”
“A few things!” she said. “What did you get?”
“I’ll show you later.”
She took my hand and I led her to the door, then out into the sunlight.
; Chapter 8
Once we were home, we went to the bedroom, where my wife refused to show me her purchases. Instead, she kissed me lightly on the cheek and carried her bag into the walk-in closet. There, she carefully arranged her new lingerie in her underwear drawer and closed it.
“They’re for Lance, Baby,” she teased, “not for you!”
I groaned at the naughtiness of her words and pulled her to me, kissing her sweet lips. Then, I pulled the DVD from my bag. My wife gasped, covering her mouth with her hand like a college coed.
“You bought porn?”
I nodded sheepishly, placing the case in her hand. She gasped as she read the title: “Do My Redheaded Wife! Part XVI”. One look at the woman on the cover and she knew… I had chosen it due to the actress’s resemblance to my wife.
“Let’s watch it!” she said excitedly.
Taking the case from her, I opened it, walked to the DVD player, and put it in. When I turned around, Lizzie had turned down the bed and was sitting, covered to the waist by the comforter, leaning against the headboard in her bra. Her blouse and skirt now lay in a heap beside the bed.
Removing my own clothing, I surreptitiously moved the bag, with the dildo still inside, to the floor and snuggled up next to her. I pressed the button on the remote and we both turned our eyes to the screen.
The movie opened with an interview of a strikingly beautiful redhead named Nancy and her balding husband, Bob. Apparently, their fantasy was for Nancy to be taken by a well-endowed man. Bob, if possible, seemed even more eager than his wife to see this fantasy become a reality.
As they finished speaking to the interviewer, a large, muscular man with a rather large bulge in his boxer shorts entered from the side and began kissing the woman’s neck from the rear. From there, things progressed rapidly. The couple engaged in a variety of highly erotic and obscenely acrobatic sex acts that culminated in a wet and very graphic conclusion. All the while, the husband sat watching in a chair beside the bed.
The scene then switched to another, equally attractive and long-legged redhead and her husband. Once again, the wife was pleasured by another man while the husband watched. This time, the husband in the scene actually masturbated while watching. It was incredibly exciting!
Then, came the woman shown on the cover; Elizabeth’s Doppelgänger. God, I was hard! I couldn’t help rubbing myself as I watched.
Next to me, I could hear my wife’s breathing get faster and shallower. Her eyes were firmly riveted to the screen as her hands strayed across her torso, fingertips absently encircling her own breasts as she rubbed her thighs against one another, seeking pressure against her clit. As usual when aroused, she began to bite her bottom lip. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. Her hand reached under the comforter, down between her legs, and she began to rub herself through her panties.
“God, Baby! This movie is hot!” she gasped, eyes glowing with passion as she stared at the TV.
Inching closer, I nuzzled her hair and began to gently plant kisses up her long, pale neck, starting at her exposed shoulder. My tongue quickly flicked her earlobe, eliciting a gasp, before starting back down her body. I unlatched her bra, letting her perfect little breasts spill out, as I licked and kissed my way down her slender side.
Shifting around, I slipped under the covers in front of her. Pushing her hands away, I pulled the crotch of her panties aside, her moist slit winking at me. I leaned in and licked her slowly, inserting a finger as she watched the TV.
“Oh Yes!” Lizzie hissed, grabbing the back of my head and pulling me in tightly. “Oh, that’s perfect!”
My darting tongue teased her as I reached over the side of the bed and quietly retrieved the dildo from the bag on the floor. Lizzie was far too entranced by the film to notice. Spitting on my hand, I wet the dildo and, as my tongue flicked at her clit, I began to press it into her. At first, she thought it was my finger again, but as the head popped inside her, she moaned loudly.
“Oh my God! Oh, Bill!” Elizabeth gasped. “What are you doing?! Ooohh!”
I pushed firmly, burying the full length of the rubber cock in her to its molded balls. In and out I worked the dildo, delighted by the sight of her pussy stretched tightly around it, feeling her excitement vibrate through its flexible shaft. In no time, her thighs began to shake as her orgasm approached. Her body went stiff as she came loudly. As soon as she was finished, she threw back the comforter.
“Bill, what the hell…?”
She stopped when she saw large dildo now securely lodged in her sex.
“Oh!” she stared. “What the…? Is that a dildo? Did…Did you get that at the sex shop today?”
“Mmm hmm!” I nodded, pulling it out and showing it to her. “Remind you of anyone?”
“Oh, you are so naughty!” she giggled. “Alright then, back to work… Lance!”
And with that, she swept the comforter back over my head and returned her attention to the television.
Chapter 9
The DVD and the new dildo were both big hits. She was fascinated by how big and realistic the sex toy was. Two nights after that first time, Lizzie asked me to get “Lance” out of the nightstand and pleasure her while she watched the video again. After that, it became a nightly affair.
She was obsessed by Lance’s comment about no woman ever having been able to get his penis inside her mouth, and began to practice her fellatio on the big dildo daily. After two days, she was able to take most of it, her eyes watering as her gag reflex checked her progress, but still she persisted, determined to take it all. She was a woman with a mission. I will never forget the day she finally succeeded, her jaw gaping obscenely as she opened her throat to allow the enormous shaft inside, inch after inch of the big rubber cock penetrating her mouth until her lips touched the molded balls. I groaned at the nastiness of it. Lance would be in for a surprise!
Each scene of the film was discussed and analyzed. She wanted to know what scenes I found most exciting and why. In turn, she pointed out the various segments that aroused her the most. Revelations led to questions which led to yet more revelations. Our initial reticence gave way to honest and open communication and our sex lives became dramatically more exciting. Slowly, we began to understand the things that really turned each other on.
She especially delighted in letting “Lance” have her first. And to be honest, I too found it titillating. Feeling her stretched and gaping after the dildo reminded me of the evening in our trailer, when I had made love to her after the real Lance’s departure. I still sometimes jerked off remembering the way she had felt. The idea of him going first was powerfully erotic for me.
Two nights before we were to meet Lance at the airport, she cut me off completely. I was informed that there would be no more sex until we were at his ranch. She wanted to be clean and tight “down there” for him. While frustrating, this denial of her charms served only to further inflame me. I seemed to have a 24-hour erection. Now, things were getting real. My wife was saving herself for her lover and that thought drove me wild.
At last, the day arrived. We loaded our luggage, checked the horses one last time, and got in the truck. The sun was just cresting the ridge east of the house when we turned from our driveway onto the blacktop. 15 minutes later, we were pulling into the little parking lot beneath the rotating beacon of the local airport.
We sat for a few minutes in the warmth of the truck, waiting. At this time of morning, the small building that served as the office was still locked. The airport manager and line personnel wouldn’t arrive for another hour and a half. When I heard the rumble of airplane engines in the distance, we got out and placed our bags on the pavement beside the truck and turned to watch the runway.
A small speck of light in the dawn haze grew slowly larger, becoming separate navigation lights as the twin-engine airplane banked, lining up on final approach. The hum of the engines dropped in pitch as the pilot eased back the throttles, adjusting the glide rate. Steadily downward she came, flaring ju
st over the numbers at the end of the runway. There was a sharp chirp as the main gear kissed the concrete without the slightest bounce and then the nose gear came smoothly down to join them. A perfect landing.
Leaving the runway, it turned onto the taxiway and taxied toward the hangars next to the airport office, the strobe lights on the wingtip fuel tanks pulsing brightly as the darkness retreated before the rising sun. The engines surged briefly as the pilot turned it sharply into the wind, then coughed and died as the throttles were pulled back and the engines switched off. The stillness after the roar of the engines was almost eerie. A few seconds later, the door behind the wing opened, the top half swiveling upwards out of the way, while the bottom half dropped downward to form a set of stairs. Lance’s smiling face appeared in the opening, waving amicably as he climbed down.
He walked quickly toward the chain link fence separating the parking area from the tarmac and, coming to the gate, opened it and stepped through. When he reached the pickup, he thrust out his hand to me.
“Hiyah, Bill!” he exclaimed jovially. “Boy am I glad you guys took me up on my offer. I tell you, we are going to have a great time!”
“Hi, Lance,” I replied, still staring at his airplane. Up close, it looked enormous; a great, cigar-shaped fuselage with a long, pointy nose and glass portals along its length. Large fuel tanks adorned the tips of both stately wings and a giant tail glistened in the growing light.
“And Elizabeth,” he moved on to my wife, “I see you’re looking lovely as ever.” He bent and kissed her hand.
“Let me help you with these,” he offered, stooping to pick up her bags.
“Thanks!” she said simply.
Snapping out of my daze, I was a little embarrassed by my own lack of chivalry. I had been too distracted by Lance’s shiny airplane. But I was too late; Lance had Lizzie’s bags and was already headed toward the aircraft, his thickly muscled arms rippling under the weight of her heavily laden luggage.