Your wife had nearly given up on the idea of including another man in your sex lives. The right person, the right opportunity just never materialized. It was fun to fantasize about for awhile, but she was honestly starting to lose her interest in the whole concept and wondered if it was something she really wanted anymore. Then suddenly, one day, out of the blue, there he was, the perfect man to cuckold you with - the gardener.
No, not Sal, the 80 year-old tending to your spacious backyard garden twice a month, for the last 3 years, but his grandson, 23 year-old, Robert - who just broke up with his long-term fiance, moved from the small town to the big city, and took over the family business of cutting grass, trimming leaves, and picking weeds. She knew the moment she saw him, his boyish charm and dopey, innocent smile, his wavy brown hair and dreamy blue eyes. And there was just something about his trim, fit physique, his youthful, defined back and tight butt, the way his neck connected to his shoulders, that made her simply want to jump his bones, a feeling she hadn't experienced for another man in quite some time.
"I think we have a winner," she informed you, but you thought she was kidding.
That initial weekend when he took over the gardening duties, she watched him, studied him. She allowed herself to feel aroused, to feel her pussy get wet. She found various reasons to talk to him and be in the backyard with him. She laughed at everything he said and they developed an easy rapport. She wondered what his turn-ons were and what his cock looked like.
She felt mischievous, predatorial, and sexy.
She felt rejuvenated.
While sunbathing and watching him tie raspberry stems, she found out that he had limited experience with women, beyond the five-year relationship with his ex-fiance - who had left him only recently for a much older man. His ex wanted someone who'd "been around the block", as he put it glumly. He was meek and humble, but not particularly self-conscious, and she found him adorable, and she loved the way he couldn't resist checking her out in her swimsuit.
For the next 12 days she talked about it frequently but you were never sure whether to take her seriously or not. "I'm gonna seduce him," she would say, often while you were in bed together. "I'm going to be his teacher. Imagine me sucking his cock and then fucking him. It gets you hard, doesn't it? I want you to catch us. I want you to walk in on us fucking and then you can join in. Imagine sucking his cock with me, baby. If everything goes really well the first time, maybe I'll get you to suck his cock for me the second time around. Would you like that? I know that's what you're really after," she teased. Then she would tilt her head back and moan, her fingers dancing over her pulsing clit, climaxing loud and hard.
The Friday night before Robert's next appointment, she lazily played with her pussy, while you massaged her feet. "No cumming for you, tonight," she said. "I want you to be extra horny tomorrow while I'm seducing the gardener." Once again she masturbated herself to sleep, dreaming of you watching her seduce another man, dreaming of making you a cuckold. Dreaming of commanding two hard, stiff, obedient erections, pleasing herself with two cocks and pleasing them in turn. Dreaming of giving herself a guilty, sinful pleasure while fulfilling your ultimate fantasies at the same time.
...
You have a job that takes you out of the house on Saturday mornings. Your wife playfully hinted on your way out that you might need to hurry home early. "I'm gonna do it," she insisted. "I'm gonna make it happen." You still weren't sure how serious she was, and truthfully, neither was she, but she kissed your cheek and squeezed your ass with one hand and grabbed at your crotch with the other, and she definitely felt something stir. Her own panties were already getting damp with anticipation and Robert hadn't even arrived yet.
Two hours later, her plan was well into action. She spent virtually every minute with him in the backyard, chatting with him and watching him work up a sweat. She wore her tightest, most revealing top, and even tighter shorts, and when she'd catch him admiring her beautiful form, she'd meet his eyes with a seductive, flirty stare.
It was a hot morning, and the sun climbed overhead across a cloudless blue sky, shining brightly.
"Bobby, it's so hot, if you want to take off your shirt, please go ahead and be my guest," she told him.
"Um, I'll be okay, Mrs. Smith. It's not too bad," he replied politely, trying to navigate the rusty lawnmower across the yard.
"Well, I think you'd be more comfortable," she said with a sly smile, "but maybe you should do it anyways, y'know, just for my amusement?"
Robert kind of froze at that, like a deer caught in the headlights. She could see the wheels turning in his head.
"Go on, Bobby," she pursued. "It's not everyday that I get the pleasure of a buff, young man to keep me company in the backyard. Give me a little thrill, why don't ya?"
A warm smile and a mischievous wink later, and Robert was pulling his t-shirt over his head, revealing his handsome, trim chest. He wasn't overly muscular, just lean and fit. There wasn't an inch of fat anywhere, only a thin layer of sweat on his hairless chest and firm biceps that made his skin shine and glisten in the sun. She thought his body glowed like an oily stripper sent from heaven.
Her reaction was immediate and undeniable. An unmistakable tingling from within her pussy sending excited little butterfly messages up through her stomach to her chest. She felt her thighs and ass getting hot, her nipples getting stiff and rising upwards. This wasn't fantasy anymore, she realized. She was having real, physical sensations, and it felt good, exciting, stimulating. It was pleasurable, and she felt buzzed and full of frantic energy.
She went inside for a moment to regroup. "I can do this," she thought to herself. She told herself that it was now or never, that an opportunity this good just doesn't come around more than once. She suddenly felt nervous and insecure. She looked out the window and studied the bare-chested young man in her backyard.
He was still cutting the grass, but in a completely mindless way, going back and forth over the same spot, while staring off into space. A noticeable bulge formed a tent shape in the front of his shorts and his bare chest sparkled like gold. Suddenly her confidence returned, surging through her, causing her to bite her bottom lip with lust. "I can do this," she said out loud. She pulled out her cellphone and texted you:
"You better come home fast. It's happening. You don't wanna miss this."
A moment later she sent a second text, just to punctuate the reality of the situation. "The shirt is off..."
She returned to the backyard with a cool glass of lemonade in her hand and walked straight over to the half-naked gardener, taking a sip, and then offering it to him. "Can I give you a little refreshment, Bobby?"
"You can call me Rob or Robert, Mrs Smith," he said, pushing away the useless, old lawnmower and accepting the glass.
"I like calling you Bobby," she said, touching his chest and watching him drink. She thought of telling him to call her by her first name, but then she changed her mind. The way he called her "Mrs. Smith" turned her on in a way she hadn't expected. She took the empty glass from him and set it down on a patio table and returned to him.
