I hope you don't mind if I share another story with you. I've only just sat down to share this with you and already my wife is looking flushed.
My wife and I have a wonderful relationship, don't get me wrong, we've had our fair share of problems too. But we are both loving, open and honest with each other and have a mutual respect.
I think we've already established that my wife likes the attention of other men. She likes them to look at her. To watch her in the throes of passion. Watch her while she pleases me. As for me, whilst I don't share, so to speak, I do like men to desire what is mine, to feel envious, to know that I'm the only one who gets to touch.
So, here we are, a Saturday morning in August and it's my wife's birthday. I prepared breakfast for her, which we both ate in bed. I have also had to keep my hands to myself, which is killing me. I have a little treat planned for my wife and I know I'm going to benefit from it greatly. So, instead of fucking my wife, I tell her to go and jump in the shower.
I can hear the water running in the bathroom as I rummage in the back of my wardrobe for the gift box I have hidden there. I place it on the bed and call out to my wife, "Honey? I've left something on the bed. I want you to wear it when you come down."
I hear a muffled shout of agreement from the bathroom. I pull on my robe and make my way downstairs.
I'm pottering around the living room when there's a knock on door. I glance at my watch, "Right on time," I think to myself.
Opening the front door, I greet our visitor and invite him in. Showing him into the dining room, I instruct him to set up in front of the French doors. "It's nice and light there," I say. I also know that our neighbour often looks out of his upstairs study window to see if he can spot my wife.
"Sweetheart, where are you?" my wife calls.
"In the dining room. I have a surprise for you," I call back to her.
The door opens and our visitor and myself turn to face it. "Holy Shit!!" I hear whispered from just behind me. My wife has entered the room wearing her gift. It's a black, diaphanous robe. It reaches to mid-thigh and although my wife has it secured tightly, the fact that she is naked underneath has my cock stiffening.
Ok, I admit I didn't leave anything other than the robe for her to wear, but still, it's even more erotic than I imagined. We can see everything through the gauze. Firm, high tits with light brown areolas. And a plump, bare mound.
My wife's eyes widen when she sees us both standing staring at her. "Oh, erm. Hi!" she says, looking at me for an explanation.
"This is Ben. He's a masseuse, and he's here to give us both a massage," I explain. My wife smiles, and if I'm not mistaken, her nipples harden against the soft material.