My Husband's Fantasies

The anonymous voyeur on the balcony.

A trip to Turkey was a largely uneventful ten days in that there were no nude beaches, private roof terraces or opportunities for us to have open air sex as we thought we'd be able to. We chose this hotel because of its rating and the dedicated nudist area which PJ enjoyed a few times in the first few days.

Trips to this area always resulted in a series of Whatsapp messages sent to my phone. Dick pics with a variety of backgrounds, selfies with other naked sunbathers in shot and a worrying photo of a female hand on his cock! The bastard had used a filter to add nail varnish to his own hand to make me question what was going on.

He was clearly having a decent holiday and fun in the sun but still couldn't convince me to join him in the nudist section. Happy with my book, keeping my bikini on and most of the pictures he sent me, we'd meet up for meals and drinks and spent 90% of the holiday together. We were both happy. Its nice to have a little solitude from time to time.

However, one afternoon, whilst avoiding 'overcooking' in the sun, I found PJ leisurely masturbating on our balcony. He seemed to be having such a lovely time that I just sat inside and watched through the open balcony door. He soon knew I was watching but he seemed to be otherwise distracted and not really making eye contact with me. This wasn't a problem and I got on with reading a book and intermittently watching him expertly stroking his stiff cock that was glistening as it was just in the shifting afternoon sunshine.

He was having such a good time, I could tell from his murmurings and body language. He also seemed in no hurry to finish and I was intrigued as to what was going on in his head. I contemplated joining in by playing with myself as I faced him from the bed. Whilst having a masturbation session would not be new for us, I hesitated as I sensed there was something else going on.

As he neared climax I put my book to one side to watch him finish. He would speed up a little and then slow right down to savour the feeling of near climax. He did this a few times and I knew it wouldn't be long before he popped.

I watched as he came with some force and let his ejaculate splash across the tiled floor as he threw his head back. This was a little showy for him as he didn't often groan in public, make a mess or express himself this way. It was more his style, when alone, to quietly catch his emissions in a tissue or his hand and then comically struggle off to clean himself up.

He came inside and quietly collected some tissues and cleaned up the tiled surface. It was several minutes later when he closed the door and explained that whilst he couldn't see her face, a woman from the room diagonally above us had come out onto her balcony and watched him wanking almost from the beginning.

He knew she was watching so he put on something of a show, made some noises to express his increasing pleasure and made sure that she was able to see his climax. She'd seemed transfixed and whilst remaining silent throughout, he was sure she'd watched him intently.

We spent the next few days only knowing a vague description. She was fair, maybe 40s and tanned which hardly ruled any of the female population of the resort out. It was exciting to think that there was a woman who had watched my husband come but we didn't know who she was. She would know his face, if she'd cared to glance at it.

We guessed at her identity for the rest of the holiday and deliberately didn't look up at that balcony to identify her. She could have been at the very next table at lunch, next to us at the pool or talking to us face to face and we had no idea.

It was a psychological aphrodisiac for the holiday and an almost obsessive conversation topic. "I think that's her" became a catchphrase for us both and we had more sex in ten days than we'd ever had.

It was difficult to distinguish between holidaymakers being generally pleasant and smiley and a voyeur revelling in her anonymity as she enjoyed PJ's company after enjoying his exhibitionism. We spent one pleasant evening in the company of Julie and Peter who may have innocently just have randomly joined our table and been making conversation but I know PJ was analysing every flirtatious smile and every word Julie said. We decided it must have been her later but had no concrete proof and didn't confront her in front of her husband.

PJ seemed almost permanently erect in the days to follow. When sunbathing by the pool, he'd either lie face down or be in the water to prevent someone noticing. In the evenings, trips to the bar for drinks were fortunately covered by darkness otherwise he looked rather excited to just be there!

As a kind of punishment, I'd insisted he wore the thinnest of trousers and was permanently 'commando' in the evenings and I'd always give his cock a little squeeze whenever I could. This meant the outline of his cock, straining against his clothing was actually quite obvious.

If PJ wasn't immediately fucking me one way or another as soon as we got back to the room, I'd lock him out on the balcony and make him jack off for our voyeur. He'd worked out the perfect position where he would face me but she would be able to see 'the show' he was giving her. In fact it didn't matter whether she watched or not, we always imagined she did.

This was invariably used as foreplay as I mirrored his activities through the glass as we both leisurely masturbated for several minutes, naked without a care for who saw us. The sex that followed was just as frenetic and whilst Julie's name wasn't mentioned once, I know the image of her flicking herself in time with PJ was foremost in his thoughts.

On another trip, to Northern Italy, we were the only occupants of a villa that slept six people. Booked through his generous ex-employees we had managed to pick a week in the two-berth gatehouse of an enclosed villa and got upgraded by the caretaker on arrival because nobody else had booked.

It was a lovely week, we'd hired a car so were able to get around and ate locally at a couple of restaurants on the edge of Lake Lugano where we stayed. But really, we had the site to ouourselves even with the disused, covered, pool and an unused hard tennis court we felt like minor royals.

We sunbathed in the grounds a lot as the weather was unseasonably good for Spring and whilst I wasn't brave enough, PJ naturally stripped off completely.

This was a little risky as, between the walled sections, the perimeter hedges were a little sparse and, like myself, closely trimmed! This meant that passers-by could see into the grounds if they found the right spot. There was also a wrought iron gate that provided no privacy whatsoever.

It was therefore against my better nature when, in the heat of the afternoon sun and having observed my husband's cock twitching and dribbling for several hours, I found myself fantasizing about riding him in the open air.

I looked around for a good spot and imagined us fucking in what ultimately was quite a densely populated Italian suburb. I could feel myself getting wetter and wetter as the afternoon wore on and it didn't help that it was quite a racy novel that I was half way through at the time.

PJ soon picked up on my mood and could see that I wasn't fully concentrating on my book. We lay side by side in the sun and he upped the stakes by slowly starting to rub his cock and could see me obviously watching him do it.

It wasn't long before I was aching to join in but I knew that we'd just end up masturbating ourselves or each other and I wanted to fuck. "Let's not go back inside," I said, "let's have sex out here but, before you say it, not in the middle of the tennis court!" PJ just smiled and sat up. He immediately started scanning to find a spot that would be private enough for me but in a spot that would excite us both because of the risk of being seen.

"How about over there?" and he pointed to the far side of the pool. We walked over and, with his cock still erect, we negotiated a decent spot. I probably acceded to his suggestion a little too easily as I had a very wet fanny and was as horny as hell. I could also see PJ's stiff cock swinging around as we walked over and was desperate to get it inside me.

I just lay down straight away where he pointed, stripped off, closed my eyes and opened my legs wide. I was very excited but didn't want to see any voyeurs who might happen across us.

PJ was not one to miss such an invitation and was soon between my legs. However, I knew what his first port of call would be and I soon felt his tongue as he licked at my hot, wet, shaved pussy. I was immediately in heaven. He hit the spot perfectly. His tongue licked at my clit and was in and out of my vagina for, what seemed like ten minutes or so.

My eyes were still closed and I was trying to stifle my sounds of pleasure as I pulled his head in tighter with both hands. I thought I was going to come as the sensations coursing through me were exquisite. PJ knew where to 'attack' and exactly what I liked.

As suddenly as he had started I felt him fight against my grip, free his head and move up to enter me. I couldn't get my legs any wider and threw my head back as I felt his cock plunge straight in until his balls slapped against me. His urgency took me by surprise but whilst I had been being licked remorselessly, he had been desperately waiting to start sliding in and out of my dripping wet pussy.

His thrusts were initially quite frantic and he seemed to want to get it over with quickly but I wanted to slow things down. I needn't have worried though as PJ was soon on the same page and slowed to a steady pace fucking me beautifully in the Italian spring sunshine. I realised the spot we had chosen was still in the sun and we were brightly lit with our still milky white English torsos.

When I eventually opened my eyes, I could see that in my haste, I hadn't noticed that we could see half the gate, part of the balcony of a neighbour's house and quite a bald patch of the hedge directly to my left. We were both past caring by this point and whilst we laughed about the grass we'd flattened and the neighbours we might have entertained later, our focus was on each other for the next few minutes.

I didn't even hear the Italian men's voices nor the sound of a small bus that apparently went past where we were. PJ had decided I wasn't wet enough and soon had his face buried between my legs again. The way this made me feel meant that a large bus full of Italian men could have emptied at the patchy part of the hedge and discussed our performance with 'Strictly' scoring paddles and I wouldn't have noticed or cared. I was getting expertly brought to orgasm and was unable to think about much else.

As I started to come, PJ picked the exact moment to resume pounding into me that meant I completed my orgasm while he was fucking me for all he was worth, trying to catch up. He wasn't far behind and filled me up a treat. Such a lovely feeling, his hot spunk jetting up me and filling me to overflowing.

As we finished and he rolled off me, I quickly realised how exposed we were and slid my, rather inadequate, bikini bottoms back on and it was PJ's turn to smile as he could see spunk dripping down my legs as I walked back to the villa some 30 yards away. It added to his pleasure, I think, when I came back with a damp cloth to wipe the marble steps and hallway floor so as not to embarrass the cleaner.

The rest of that holiday was sex indoors as my self-consciousness didn't allow a repeat performance. I did enjoy watching my husband's cock in the sun when the weather was nice enough though and still have the photos he WhatsApped to me with the gate and villa as backdrops.