I came as hard as I had in several months, a ball-draining eruption that momentarily caused me to see stars, and took me several moments to recover from. After I caught my breath, I picked up my iPad, and after wiping the remaining traces of my ejaculate from the screen, I looked to see what Irene and Matt were up to.
As I focused my attention on the screen, my wife was on her back, legs wide apart, as Matt knelt between her thighs. They were having some discussion about the logistics of their upcoming sexual encounter, and as I zoned in, I caught the gist of it.
"Matt, please, you don't need to use a condom," she implored him, as he held the unwrapped prophylactic in his hand.
"You haven't had sex in seven years, and I have only been with one man in my entire life. This is about as safe as sex gets!"
"What about Oscar?" Matt countered. "Has he been a good boy?"
My wife let out a loud chortle that she made no attempt to suppress, and responded in a way that must have diminished my stature in her boss' eyes. It certainly was a kick in the nuts for me to hear.
"That pussy?" she said coldly. "Matt, I love my husband dearly, but to suggest that he has any chance of extra-marital sex is ludicrous," she said with a giggle. "He barely can contain himself when we fuck."
To my surprise, Matt seemed concerned that my wife and I even had a sex-life.
"Do you guys still have sex?" he asked, seemingly trying to weigh up whether or not he still wanted to do this.
"Matt, please," my wife begged. "Let's fuck."
"Well, do you?" he insisted to know.
"Occasionally," she admitted, "but I don't need it from him, if you want me to cut him off."
Hearing this, especially right after my orgasm, was tough. All men know that verbal stimulation, while important to facilitate orgasm, can be unwelcome and difficult to hear, after a man achieves release. The fact that my wife was offering to deny me sex, in order to have sex with her boss, was disheartening, to say the least.
"No," Matt responded magnanimously, "you can still fuck Oscar occasionally. However, if you want me to bareback you, he needs to wear a rubber from now on."
"Okay," Irene responded almost immediately, "we have a deal."
As Matt tossed the condom over his shoulder, and lined his cock up with the entrance to my wife's pussy, my heart sank. She just traded a lifetime of my pleasure, for a few minutes of hers, with hardly any contemplation. Matt hadn't been inside a woman in seven years, and as my wife invited him to bareback her, I knew he wouldn't last long. This was fucked up!
Once Matt slid inside my wife, he remarked on how wet she was. She giggled and whispered something inaudible to me, in his ear. Then they started to fuck. Matt started off slow and deep, his ass-cheeks flexing as I watched him from behind, in the hidden camera. On each downward stroke he got balls-deep inside Irene, and she let out an appreciative moan. Then as he withdrew his erect cock from her, my wife would pull him back inside her, as her dainty manicured hands rested on his muscular ass.
He built up his speed slowly, like a steam engine gathering speed, showing no signs of the premature ejaculation that I was expecting, from a man who hadn't had any pussy for seven years. He was a very impressive physical specimen, his muscles tensing and flexing under the current demands being placed on his body. As I watched them fuck, and Irene raked her manicured nails across his ass, I noticed the absence of her wedding ring.
Irene had worn the same ring for the entire duration of our marriage. I don't think she ever took it off, yet now, inexplicably, as she got pounded in the hotel room, it was gone. As I processed this, I wasn't sure if I was more perturbed by the absence of the wedding ring, or if it would have been more difficult for me to see the symbol of our unity raking across her boss' ass as he got balls-deep inside her.
My expectations of a quick encounter, were soon proven wrong, and it was Irene who reached climax first, crying out Matt's name as he relentlessly impaled her. As I watched her toes curl, and she dug her nails deep into the flesh of her boss' ass-cheeks, I had another disturbing revelation. My wife had evidently faked some of her orgasms with me. Maybe not all of them, but I had never seen her climax with the intensity that she was currently experiencing.
It was like watching a train wreck, disturbing to observe, but impossible to turn away from. To my astonishment, Matt fucked my wife for about thirty minutes before she threw in the towel. She had enjoyed four or five orgasms, and yet he seemed perfectly composed, relaxed even. He stopped thrusting in to her, and even though they remained coupled, it was a welcome break for my wife.
"Jesus Christ, Matt," Irene said as she gathered her breath. "You are an animal."
They kissed and chatted amiably as Irene composed herself, and a few minutes later, I heard my wife speak.
"Are you ready to come soon, Matt? I am completely satisfied."
Matt nodded agreeably, without really committing to anything, and started to slowly make love to her again. After a few moments, he placed his hand under her head to support and cradle her neck, and then in one fluid movement, he rolled over into his back, taking her with him so that she was now straddling him, in the cowboy position.
Irene has always fought me tooth and nail, during our entire marriage, anytime I have suggested different sexual positions, so I was very surprised that she allowed her boss to manhandle her into his new desired position. Once she was on top, she adjusted quickly to the new sensations, and as Matt guided her own hand to her clitoris and encouraged her to touch herself, she ended up coming twice more.
This seemed to satisfy Matt, and shortly after my wife's last orgasm, he unloaded deep inside her. I thought my wife would hop off immediately after Matt came inside her, but she seemed very comfortable in this new sexual position, and remained on top of him for several moments as they kissed.
I had seen enough and was truly drained by the events of the evening. I grabbed my iPad, and climbed into bed, and was just about to switch it off, when Matt and my wife finally uncoupled. She excused herself to wash her face, and I watched as Matt got up slowly from the bed. He walked towards the closet upon which I had hidden my iPhone, and looked up directly at the lens.