The Final Iss

Like many men, I often find myself fantasizing about watching my wife having an erotic encounter with another man. While our sex life is fantastic, and my fit, attractive wife indulges most of my fantasies with a passion, she has always drawn the line at involving other people. The closest we've gotten to fulfilling my fantasy is watching her play with a rather large, life-like dildo. Just the thought of watching her lips caressing that dildo while I take her doggy-style drives me into distraction. We've also gone the other way, with her taking a vibrator while she goes down on me. But she has made it clear that bringing in a third party is just a fantasy.

But a man often has a hard time of letting go of an obsession, and this was one of those times. During one of our playful foreplay discussions I asked her if she had ever been in the presence of a male stripper. She had, as it turns out, during a fairly typical low-key bachelorette party, and I teased her about it. She had to admit that it was fun and she had enjoyed watching a man undress in front of her.

Having set the trap, I moved in for the kill. If she had watched a male stripper with a bunch of girls, would she allow a male stripper to perform with just me in the room? After all, it was a lot less like cheating if I was there as opposed to a bunch of other women.

Maybe it was the wine, or maybe deep down inside she began to develop some fantasies of her own, but amazingly, she agreed she would do it.

My mind immediately began to reel with the potential of seeing my wife watch another man undress...and naturally, what else might happen. Since I knew this might be my one chance to pull this off, I screened our stripper prior to our big date. One look at the guy who came to my office and I knew he was perfect. Nick was nice looking, well built, easy going but not cocky. I set the ground rules for him, that my wife had to call the shots, and that no touching was allowed unless she initiated it. I have never been interested in making my wife do something she did not want to do. He was in agreement, and the date was on for that Saturday night.

My wife was nervous as a cat all week and gradually more and more on Saturday, and I thought she might bail in the eleventh hour. But I told her that after the guy came over, she could stop things at any time - she was in control. That put her somewhat at ease, but her nervous sipping of red wine was probably the key to lowering her inhibitions—and helping my plan even more.

By the time the doorbell rang at 8:30 that evening, she had been through a few glasses of wine and was resigned to watching the show. Nick showed up looking like a regular sharp dressed guy, and we eased into the den for drinks and some light conversation by soft candlelight.

My wife was so nervous she was blushing, and my heart was beating fast as well. But Nick had a way about him, and before long we had shared some laughs and had relaxed quite a bit. We smoked a joint too, and that helped.

The conversation hit a lull and Nick stood and announced that it was time he did what he came here to do. I put on some smooth jazz music and positioned myself on an end chair. My wife sat alone, perpendicular to my vantage point, in the middle of the sofa, with a look of anticipation that fell somewhere between dread and excitement.

When Nick started slowly moving to the music and peeling off his sport coat, I noticed my wife taking a deep breath and letting it out. It was then that I realized that I had forgotten to breathe for the last few minutes. My heart was pounding with a mix of nervousness and sexual energy.

By the time Nick got down to taking off his shirt, my wife's attention was frozen onto his tanned, muscular body, and my nervousness was giving way to a growing sensation in my pants. It was making me red hot watching my wife watch this stud.

Nick took his time, drawing out the final major piece of clothing, before finally pulling off his pants to reveal a tight set of undies and a formidable package therein. My wife glanced over at me for an instant, the first time she had taken her eyes off our visitor since he began to undress, and gave me a mischievous "I can't believe were doing this" smile.

Nick moved around the room some more, obviously comfortable with his near-naked body and the attention he was getting. After a time, he came over to the couch, close to my wife, and stood, with his scantily covered crotch at eye level to her, maybe at a total distance of three feet, and started to slowly and subtly gyrate his hips to the music. My wife sat forward, her hands on her thighs, her face flush, her eyes wide open. She was still smiling, but the attitude of the smile was full of more sexual energy than before. I followed her eyes carefully from my vantage point, watching her look up at his face and then down to his crotch, then back up, then back down. She was clearly dwelling longer on the looking at his crotch part, and at some point I think she gave up on the pretension of not just staring at the gyrating bulge in front of her.

Nick took just a half step back and asked her if she'd like to see more. My wife had to take her eyes off his crotch momentarily, to look up at him and digest the question. Yes, obviously she did want to see more, and she knew it was ok with me (it was very ok with me), and she knew I was ok with her enjoying herself, but I could see she still had reservations. What she wanted was for me to be the one to say yes. I nodded my assent, carefully putting on the game face that said go for it baby, its all in fun.

Her eyes returned to Nick's eyes, and she hesitated briefly before looking again at his crotch. When her eyes returned to his, there was a subtle, but clearly positive nod, before her eyes returned to his midsection.

Nick placed his thumbs on his hips and slowly eased out of his tight black underwear, revealing a fantastic looking cock that hung in that semi-hard state of erection, obviously aroused but not reaching for the ceiling. I could feel myself slowly taking in a deep breath, watching the distance close between Nick's slowly gyrating manhood and my wife's hypnotic stare.

I've never had any bi or homosexual urges, but I am willing to admit when a guy has a good looking cock, and Nick did. I'm not going to take the route of telling you it was 13" long and 4" wide, but he was well hung and he carried it well. As he swung his cock in front of my wife's gaze, I was suitably impressed and appreciative that he was able to hold back the urge to get a full on boner. Like the one I had.

My wife had held the same expression for most of Nick's show, her face full of sexual tension and anxiety. But now that all his clothes were off, her manner abruptly changed—she eased her body backward onto the sofa and placed her arms up on the sofa back, and her tense body seemed to let out some pent up tension. And she smiled, a giddy, relaxed playful smile. She looked over at me, and with a mirthful look she said "Damn, you sure picked a looker."

We all laughed, and it was a big tension release for all of us, though I had an area that was still aching with tension. Nick smiled down at my giddy wife and upped the ante, stepping as close to the couch as possible and asking her if she would like to touch him.

Note that Nick didn't suggest she touch anything in particular—he was very subtle—but when she looked over at me for permission she knew well what he was referring to. Again, I nodded for her to proceed, and her attention was once again upon Nick, and more specifically, Nick's cock, that now seemed to reach out to her.

She leaned forward again on the couch, bringing her face to within a foot of Nick's glory. Her hands went back onto her thighs, which she rubbed a few times in nervous anticipation. She looked up into his eyes once last time before her fascinated gaze turned back to his warm cock. Her hands came up slowly, stopping just inches from touching him, and you could tell she was utterly fascinated at the idea of handling his manhood. And then, as I watched, heart pounding in a complete state of erotic shock, her hands moved together, and she softly grasped his cock with her hands on either side. Amazingly, Nick continued to hold his semi-erect pose, which conflicted completely with the erection that I was trying to keep in my pants. Nick's head did ease back as my wife's hands did a slow 90 degree turn, with one hand ending up stroking his balls and the other lightly rubbing his now growing cock. She lightly ran her hands from the tip of Nick's cock to the base, then back again, then doing the same with the back of her hands, and then—in a moment permanently etched into my brain—she licked her lips, looked over at me, and winked with a sly grin. Her face settled just inches from NIck's now fully erect, fully at attention cock. Then she lightly ran her hands one final time from base to tip, fondled the tip of his cock briefly, and then leaned back into the couch. What a fabulous tease she was. I was afraid that if I moved I'd come in my pants.

"Thanks Nick, that was quite a show," she said. "I'm not sure if I enjoyed watching it as much as my husband enjoyed me watching it, but it was quite a show."

We all laughed again, and the mood lightened and became playful once again. Nick backed off from the couch and eased onto the arm of a nearby chair, and his rock-hard member slowly eased back into its semi-erect state, hanging outward but still engorged from the previous excitement.

In all honesty, the events of the evening had far surpassed my greatest fantasy, in ways I had not anticipated. I would not have considered having her take it any further, because I could tell she was fine with it where it was. But being a man, I just couldn't leave well enough alone, and came up with one final request.

"Babe, I think Nick deserves one final, special kiss before he gets dressed," I said, leaving emphasis on special.

She looked at me with an expression that said it all—a 50-50 split between staying within the societal bounds of a lady and satisfying the desires of her man. I think that those two elements ended up being divided equally, but the portion of her that really, deep down inside wanted to kiss this man's cock was what put her over the edge.

"Ok, but just one last special kiss," she said slowly and deliberately. "And you're going to have to come to me, cause I'm too relaxed to move from this couch."

My wife, the careful negotiator. Her parameters made it clear that after the kiss, that was it, and that she would not be the one establishing where the special kiss would be. She remained in her pose relaxed against the cushions of the couch, so it was up to Nick to present the target of the special kiss.

Thankfully, Nick was in sync with what I meant by a special kiss, and he worked his way slowly back to the couch.

Nick stepped forward onto the couch, first with one knee and then the other, so that his body was straddling my reclined wife. He raised up to his full height on his knees, and his cock, perfectly erect for the occasion at 90 degrees, eased in close to her face.

She gave me a quick "oh so this is what you guys want" glance, and then she lifted her hands off the back of the couch and brought them to rest once again on Nick's cock. My mind was reeling and my heart felt ready to explode as I watched her slowly, carefully bring her face up on the far side of Nick's cock, in perfect position for me to see. Again, she slowly licked her lips, tilted her head back slightly, closed her eyes, and brought her lips into a soft kiss on Nick's cock. She opened her eyes and gave me that mischievous look once again. Her lips rested there momentarily, seemingly forever on the one hand and far too quickly on the other. And then her mouth came open, just slightly, and her tongue eased slowly out to turn the final kiss into a soft, delicious French kiss.

It was the money shot of all money shots for me, and I know I will remember it as long as I live. After the kiss she leaned back and smiled over at me. Nick got dressed and we thanked him profusely for a great night. We shook hands and he gave my wife a warm hug, and he was gone.

The night had been terrific, and I had enjoyed every minute. As you can imagine, both of us were incredibly horny, and I was unable to contain myself for long. But it didn't take me long to recover, and we made passionate love for hours. When I woke the next morning, the first thought in my mind was re-living that fabulous final kiss, and in no time we were going at it again.

Ah, the final french kiss. The image of my wife's tongue on another man's cock is forever etched upon my brain, and it never fails to make me aroused. Naturally, there have been times where I took the fantasy in my mind a bit further, with my wife softly taking Nick's entire cock deep into her mouth and sucking and licking his throbbing member until he erupted into her, spilling his load around her mouth and onto her chest, all while I watched close by. Other times I explore the idea of watching him slowly enter her, from a multitude of different positions, and watching her reaching new heights of arousal. And then there are the times when I become a more active participant, and Nick and I share in the duty of bringing mind-blowing pleasure to my wonderful wife.

And then there's the logical argument that if my wife got to enjoy a male stripper in my presence, it should only be fair that I get to enjoy a female stripper in her presence.

But I would never think of pushing my wife to do something she really didn't want to do ...