Hide and See

Had Sarah any idea of what her husband, Matthew, was up to with his coterie of young and so sexual girls? Probably not, though she seemed to enjoy joking about it; maybe even fantasising about it. Her sexual imagination certainly seemed to have been fired when they had both watched the girls from their bedroom window -- and fucked. Had seemed to enjoy forcing Matthew into selecting one of the girls -- Morgan -- and talking about her sucking him off.

What Sarah had not at all expected was to be confronted by the reality of Matthew and not just Morgan but the three other girls sexually playing. Not simply seeing something a little peculiar, a little suggestive but stark reality. 'Stark' in the sense of 'stark naked' -- all of them!

Not usual, indeed rare in the extreme, that Sarah might come home during the working day. Not easy for a teacher to leave a school whilst the pupils were there, but she had a free period and a pressing need to get some papers. Sarah called out as she came through the front door to let Matthew know she was home, but there was no reply. Odd as Matthew's car was in the drive. He was not out. Normally he would be working in the study. He was not there. Perhaps he was in the garden sipping a cup of tea.

Matthew was in the garden but not with a cup of tea in hand. He was certainly holding something, but that something was not tea, though he was certainly 'cupping' it and it was something that normally lived in a cup! Indeed, it was one of Morgan's breasts that girl, the one he had 'selected'. He might as easily have been cupping something else which, like tea, was both 'warm and wet'.

Sarah stood at the first-floor window stock still and just staring. There in her sunlit garden, the lawn neatly mown, her husband and what could almost be mistaken for nymphs. Dancing nymphs all around her Matthew, jumping and skipping, their little and not so little boobs bouncing free. So clear that even when he reached and held one of the girls, perhaps catching one of her boobs, her bottom or his hand brushing over her fur, that there was no coercion on his part. Clear the girls loved the play. Maybe her husband had in some way started it all, but the nymphs were in his garden, had clearly come over the fence to play; indeed Sarah could not see any clothes, perhaps they had climbed the fence naked!

Her hand to her mouth as she watched the girls run off and her husband give chase. Sarah could not help it; a smile came to her face, not a frown or 'stone face' but a smile. Yes, Sarah was amused at seeing Matthew running around the garden naked and as hard as she had ever seen or felt him, chasing the girls. It seemed utterly comic to her. The silly man getting all frisky with those young things, and whilst they looked lovely -- sweet and nymph like, graceful in their running -- she could not help thinking how ridiculous men look with a hard cock, the more so with it waggling around as Matthew ran.

Comic and not just a bit sexual as well. The chasing was developing into rather more. Her husband catching one of the girls, that little minx, Vickie; Sarah was sure she had more than an equal share in -- maybe -- seducing her husband. Matthew, she was sure, would have found it difficult to resist. She watched him holding her, saw his cock hard against her, poking at her.

Fuck! The little minx had put her arms around her husband's neck and just swung herself at him; had 'impaled' herself on his -- her man's -- cock. The penis that had been snugly inside herself the night before was now inside a girl, barely eighteen, right in front of her eyes. Clear too, to her, when the penis came out again that it was not just Vickie it was going to go into.

Sarah at the window watched her husband fucking no less than four young nymphs in succession, all of them, not one, not two but all four; the cock she was so familiar with going in and out of young pussies like rabbits into burrows, and the girls quite clearly loving the play. Sarah was not unmoved; astounded, yes; amused, yes; but also aroused. Her hand sneaked into her knickers as she watched, amazed at the so unexpected sight and feeling, strangely, rather proud that her husband was attractive to all those young maidens

Maidens? Clearly not! Surely her husband had not been responsible... surely he had not really taken not just one but four maidenheads? It could not be, somebody else -- somebodies -- must have done, at least some, surely?

So, he had not just been lusting after them. It was more than that, much more than that. Her husband had more than sneaked himself inside their knickers. Sarah found she was not angry, and certainly surprised at herself for that. More proud than anything else; proud of her virile and attractive husband. There would be sex that night in their marital bed, whether he wanted it or not. She would see to that; would get a stand out of him, come what may. She would suck him into erection and then fuck him until he came. His penis, at that moment in little Charlotte, would be in her. It was hers. And she would extract the semen, no matter how much he was about to put in Charlotte or any one of the other girls. It was her semen. And maybe she would do the same the next morning before setting off to school.

Within her knickers her fingers moved. Sarah stared out of the window. Not her usual thing to watch pornography, but it was a bit like a film with her husband as the male stud! She had, though, to get her papers and get back to school. Best to make sure she left before there was any chance of Matthew noticing her car or finding her. Important to leave no trace. She could leave a small clue that she had been there, a subtle hint that she might know about things, but Sarah thought it best if she was going to confront Matthew with his, should she call it naughtiness rather than infidelity, she did it face to face rather than just unnerving him with a little clue, something just possibly out of place.

Sarah turned, but then could not resist another glance. Her man was out of Charlotte and approaching little red-headed Emma. Her head shook, the girl looked so young with her breasts just budding, though her bush, all fiery red, was certainly mature enough to... Sarah stared as her husband's penis nosed into that very bush and disappeared -- yes, up into the girl.

Down the stairs, papers collected and she was out of the front door. Sarah would like to have watched it all, masturbated to a climax, but school certainly called. She would fuck her husband that evening come what may!

And Sarah did. No ifs, no buts, no escape. She had her man where she wanted him. Under her and she certainly mounted him. In her head the image of that cock going into little Emma's fiery bush; 'her' cock in the girl, but now fucking her. Sarah could not help her thoughts, could not get away from the fact she was actually proud her husband was desired by the young people; really, and surprisingly, aroused by the thought it had already been in the four of them that very day. "Her' cock, that she was riding up and down on, had been fucking mere schoolgirls.

It proved to be rather fabulous sex for Sarah, she did not like to ask how many times Matthew had already come that day but clear as she rode her upon 'her cock' that whilst lovely and hard, ejaculation was not proving easy. Just the sort of cock a wife wants, one that stays hard and does not come too soon! How good of the girls to provide her with such a stiff and lasting cock. Her thoughts being that she was willing to share.

Even after two lovely, tingling and almost explosive orgasms, Matthew still had not come! Could she reach a third before he did? Before she made him cum? Reversing herself she lowered her sopping sex onto Matthew's face, rubbing herself on his nose and lips, Sarah lowered her own lips toward her husband's penis. Wet from her -- very wet -- the folds of his foreskin drenched with her lubrication. How drenched it must have been from Emma et al that afternoon. What would that be like, sucking her cock all freshly pulled from that little red-haired girl. Would she like to do that? Sarah's mouth descended, tasting herself.

She made Matthew come! However much he had been fucking, maybe being sucked, that afternoon, Sarah was going to have her semen, and she got it -- not a lot -- but it bubbled up in her mouth. She had forced Matthew to come with all the licking, suction and lip and tongue work she could imagine. Had over stimulated him, forcing the ejaculation. She would do the same in the morning.

Sarah may well have been not unhappy at her husband's peccadilloes; not seeing his play with the four girls as anything of a threat to her marriage - he was, obviously, not going to be going off with one of them instead of her; but it made her think.

What she thought was that, 'what was sauce for the goose was sauce for the gander'; if Matthew was being somewhat naughty, might she not do something of the same? Not an affair, as such, but perhaps a little rough and tumble on the side would not go amiss. She had been amazed to see Matthew naked with no less than four young things. Him running around after them with his cock at full stand and taking them all in succession, as she had, and she could not get it out of her mind, watched quite dumbfounded. It really had been her husband, and she had really seen him fuck all the four of them one after another -- three anyway - in and then out as if he was potting balls on a snooker table. She felt strangely proud that her husband was so attractive to girls. She was not incensed, not even cross, indeed more aroused than angry!

It occurred to Sarah that perhaps, after all, she should agree to the very improper suggestion a work colleague had made. It had been an oblique suggestion, but the hint had undoubtedly been there. Sarah had not been mistaken; he had been drunk and that had, perhaps, excused it; the suggestion made at a colleague's leaving do; the pass, it had certainly been that, no more, no less, ignored at the time. Sarah had thought about it since; had wondered about it and what it might have led to; had wondered about Roger's body; yes, had wondered about his penis; was it perhaps as big as she had once thought Derek Tarrant's might be? Had David Tarrant's really been that big? She rather thought so. Matthew and she had played tennis and swum a lot with Derek and Lucy. She could see at the time that Matthew rather watched Lucy and was not at all sure that Derek had not closely watched her. She recalled, too, saying something about wishing she could suck the juice from Derek's big banana; it had certainly caused Matthew to react in a very satisfying way -- using his own 'big banana'. But what of her colleague, Roger?

Roger and she were going to be going on a training course together so why, if Matthew was playing away, should she not, too, she have a bit of a fling? Roger was, after all, rather nice and, well, couped up in a hotel, why not find themselves in each other's rooms? He was even a bit younger than her. Not as young as the girls Matthew had been in and out of. Nowhere near as young. Sarah shook her head in disbelief. She really had seen it. Her Matthew's cock going in and out of those girls. It was not surprising he had been as hard as anything out there in the garden. All those young girls jumping on his cock; and they were, it was not him, in the lead. She could see that: she could have perhaps imagined one girl, that Vickie from next door, most likely, but not two, let alone four. Her husband had always been sexy, had always got her going, but she had not thought he would have that effect upon... four girls at once. It surely could not really be his fault. It was obviously not like an affair. They must have seduced him, surely; the little sirens! Sarah jiggled her shoulders as if weighing up options; well, it would not really be her fault with Roger, would it? It would be Matthew's fault or that little minx Vickie for starting it all!

What was sauce for the goose, might as well be sauce for the gander. Might she, after all, now choose to try Roger's 'sauce' or his fresh young banana juice?

Bag packed, railway tickets in handbag, Matthew drove her to the railway station. They had made love that morning. Sarah had been keen for that, had initiated it all with a loving suck to his cock. It had been good and both parties had come. Her husband had shown no reticence, no keenness not to engage, no hint that perhaps he wanted to save himself for particular young pussies later; had not pretended to come in order to retain his semen -- for later. Sarah had most certainly checked in the bathroom. There had been plenty of the stuff there!

Sitting in the car with Matthew driving beside her, handbag on her knee she was conscious not just of what she was planning to do -- if Roger again made suggestions -- but that she had a newly purchased packet of six condoms tucked in that handbag. Matthew had been disconnected but she doubted Roger had. Best to be practical and take the lead with contraception. It should not be the woman's responsibility, and certainly that was what she said in sex education classes at school, but had also advised the girls that 'equality' was all very well in principle, but they, particularly, would be affected by the consequences. Best therefore if they did plan and were responsible.

Sarah was taking her own advice.

A pleasant enough train journey and a taxi to the hotel for the training days. Roger was there, as she knew he would be; clearly delighted to see her again. Good to remake acquaintances from earlier courses. There was Kathy and Frank, Caroline, Esther and Jenny, whom she all remembered from before; but it was Roger she found herself sitting next to on a long table for dinner. And it was Roger's leg that touched hers halfway through dinner and did not straight away pull away. Certainly not when she found herself rubbing his ankle with her own. The touch of his leg to hers might have been accidental. Her ankle rubbing clearly was not.

By the end of the meal, Roger's hand was on her thigh. It did not surprise Sarah for Roger then to invite her to his room for coffee. She knew she would not be leaving his room until morning. Sarah knew what she was doing, knew what her acceptance of that cup of coffee meant.

The others were going to the bar for a drink, but Sarah excused herself. She knew Roger would do the same, not making it obvious they were both happening to go up to their rooms -- to bed - at the same time.

The lift doors closed, and they were alone, the mirrored cabin reflecting back the two of them.

"You've been looking lovely tonight, Sarah."

"Have I?" She accepted the compliment, did not protest or anything; her hand reached and she held his silk tie between her fingers. Was that a sexual gesture, holding a man's tie, fingering it? "You're looking very smart. I like a man in a suit. So well cut."

She liked a man out of it too!

Perhaps Roger was being bold, perhaps presumptuous but it was exciting, there in the lift before the bell dinged to announce the arrival of the lift at his floor, he kissed her on the lips.

"Roger!" she said, as perhaps was expected, when the connection was broken but she followed him down the corridor and was ushered into his room. The door closed.

"Black or white?" They sat together on the bed chatting. Nothing more, as yet.

It was a hot night; Roger had opened the door out onto the balcony of his room. Rather a fine hotel for a training course. In the holiday season it would be unaffordable for such a gathering, but this was term time and the hotel needed to find other customers than holidaymakers. The hot night unusual for the time of year, but hot it was.

"Shall we go outside?" Dark on the balcony when Roger switched the room lights off. The air pleasantly warm, the darkness enfolding, below them the lights of the promenade and, out to sea, for the hotel was by the seaside, ship lights in the distance. The salty smell of the sea on the air. Romantic? Well, yes indeed, but more importantly rather erotic. Behind her Roger slipped her dress from off her shoulders. Presumptuous -- perhaps -- but just so right. Certainly presumptuous to mould his hands over her brassiere, squeezing her breasts. But Roger was not rebuffed. Sarah closed her eyes revelling in the manipulations of her breasts, feeling the younger man feeling her, enjoying the fresher air and secluded darkness of the balcony and rather conscious of the hardness being pushed at her bottom. Roger's manliness there, separated from her by cotton and silk. She had rubbed her ankle against his; now she was rubbing her bottom against his cock.

Slowly Roger undressed her, there in the dark. Not what she had imagined happening, not in his room as she had expected, but outside -- not far outside, but outside in the open air. Her bra undone and removed, her naked breasts caressed, her nipples stroked, the hard tips tweaked and pulled. Sarah kicked off her own shoes, but it was Roger who lowered her dress and Roger who slid her panties down her legs. Pretty, silky, shorts with rather open legs. She had thought his hand might slip up a leg. It was not like that; his hand not invading her knickers, but his hands tugging them down and off. A hand, or fingers, certainly then dancing over her curls, stroking them, a finger seeking her crack. She turned and kissed Roger -- properly. She had not kissed another man, apart from Matthew, for years and years. His tongue different, the way his lips moved different, his smell different -- all exciting and arousing. Sarah was aroused, no question, no worry; Roger would have no difficulty in copulation.

Erotic to be kissing and cuddling a besuited man in the dark on a hotel balcony whilst naked. It seemed a strangely feminine thing to Sarah to be doing. Maybe a male fantasy but it clicked with her.

She felt Roger break away and heard the rustle of clothing in the room. Better and better, both to be naked out on the balcony. Sarah looked out to sea, counting the ships and smelling the sharp salty smell of the sea. She knew it would happen when Roger returned, what man can resist pushing his upright male organ into the equally vertical cleft of a female bottom, a so matching and comfortable fit.

Roger did just as expected, right up to reaching around and clasping her boobs again in his hands, simulating a bra. The younger and now naked man behind her. She could so feel not just those hands but Roger's unclad penis against her, warm and hard -- and big. Her smile broad and she nodded to herself; that was especially what she wanted -- a big cock; important to her that it was bigger than Matthew's.

Should she suck it, feel how big it was in her mouth? Oh! Naughty man! Roger had pulled back and then pushed his erection between her legs and was moving it gently forwards and backwards, again pressed against her back and bottom, only with his cock sliding in her wetness, sliding between her lips, not going in, but gently rubbing her so sensitive and so wet sex; delightful hardness against her softness. Sarah reached down, touching her pubic hair, feeling down to where her thighs joined and there it was on her fingers, the soft membrane, the little opening of his knob poking out, moving against her fingers, her fingers touching his opening, maybe getting a little sticky from leaking pre-cum, perhaps thin strands joining penis to fingertips, breaking and re-forming in the dark. The smooth roundness of his domed end coming to touch her fingers and then slide back again.

Was it leaking? She should perhaps get that packet from her handbag, only this was all so perfect. Sarah did not want to move, did not want to break the connection. It might not be the same when she returned. The night, the balcony, the darkness, the naked man, the big penis between her legs.