My wife, Claire, has friends from all over. We have a big house in the hills, overlooking Mount Rainier, with five bedrooms and a lot more space than we needed once our kids went to college. We had plenty of overnight visitors, who loved the morning view of the mountain, and Claire's pleasant hospitality.
Claire had a very wide circle of friends, men and women, she had known throughout the years from college and on. More than a few were old boyfriends, and a select number of girlfriends, lovers all, she had collected over time. She still kept in touch with most of them, and admitted that more than once she had used Skype from her office to talk to some of them. I walked in on her twice, sitting naked on our bedroom chair, chatting happily with also-naked friends. I found it titillating and arousing, and both times we found ourselves in bed right after the calls, spending the afternoon making love, and a great deal of noise.
One of her friends was a fellow named Bill, who she had briefly dated a couple of years before we met. She had shyly talked me into taking pictures of her, semi-clothed and naked, to send to him after he and his wife split up. Claire explained she wanted to cheer Bill up, and I agreed. We happily fucked all afternoon after sending them off to him, and he texted back that he loved all of them.
Things escalated over the ensuing weeks. One afternoon, she came downstairs, wearing only a lacy peignoir, and suggested I come upstairs. I followed in eager anticipation of a lazy Saturday in bed, and falling into a blissful sleep afterwards.
Her laptop was on, as it often was, but instead of her usual porn videos, there was a picture of Bill, but oddly informal. He had blue eyes, blond hair, and a couple of days' worth of stubble. Before I could ask how recent the picture was, his eyes looked up, and he smiled, watching us. Claire greeted him and removed her peignoir, standing naked and turning a pirouette in front of the camera, She smiled, and turned to me, starting to remove my sweat pants, pulling them down and putting her mouth around my cock in one easy motion.
Shocked, I couldn't say a word while I stared at the monitor, Claire sucking my hardening dick, Bill watching the whole time. She stopped after too short a time, and pulled my t-shirt off over my head, and helping me step out of the sweats pooled on the floor. She led me to the bed two short feet away, and got on all fours. "Fuck me from the back, baby. I want Bill to watch us fuck." I climbed onto the bed, and stuck my cock inside her pussy, which was hot and slick. I wondered if she had been touching herself for Bill, but then my thrusts took over.
She turned her head to watch Bill, and when I looked over, all I saw his part of his bare chest, and his face gazing intently at us. He started to pant, and we watched his arm move up and down, as he started ever so slightly to moan. I knew he was stroking his cock, and wished just for a moment that we could see him rubbing himself. We slowed down, or I did, enthralled by watching another man get himself off to me fucking Claire.
Bill closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them up. "Please keep fucking, you guys. That is so fucking hot!" My tempo picked up, and Claire started to moan in time to my thrusts, and Bill's increasingly loud moans. When I came it was incredible. It felt like my cock wouldn't stop pulsing, and I looked over at Bill, and noticed two things at once. First, Bill had shot cum up to his chest, a milky white dribble of fluid shot up from his cock, nearly hitting his chin where he sat.
Second, Claire had never stopped watching, even as she came. Her eyes were glued to the PC, and I suspected a significant portion of her lustful panting arose from Bill's orgasm, as well as my efforts. After a few minutes of letting our hearts slow down, Claire said goodbye and turned off the chat window. We spent the rest of the afternoon in bed, alternately drowsing and making love.
Six months later, she asked me to let Bill visit, since he was flying through Seattle on business, and could he stay in one of the spare rooms? I agreed, and wondered to myself if Claire wanted to see him jack off again while watching the two of us fuck. That, I thought, would be very hot.
Bill arrived the following week, late Friday afternoon. He drove in from Seattle after his meeting, arriving just as the sun sank into the hills to our west. We had dinner, and chatted for a while, maybe three or four hours, before going to bed.
Claire slipped everything off and slid into bed naked, but before I could start stroking her and getting her excited, she rolled onto her side away from me. "Sorry, sweetheart. I'm so tired right now. Maybe we can do something in the morning, okay?" I was disappointed, but figured that since Bill had gotten in so late, she wanted him to rest before he watched us in the morning.
It was early when I heard a tap on the door, almost too quiet to hear. The clock told me it was just after six o'clock. I climbed out of bed when I heard the soft, stealthy tap again, and put on a pair of underpants so I wouldn't answer the door naked.
I opened it a crack, and saw Bill there, wearing a pair of blue jeans, boots, and a clean white shirt. It occurred to me he might have to leave for his plane, and we wouldn't spend more time with him.
"Is Claire awake?" He kept his voice pitched low.
I closed the door, holding up a single finger to show I'd be back in a moment. I crept over to Claire, who was still naked with the covers almost entirely off her. "Babe, Bill is asking if you're awake."
She opened her eyes a little, then thought better of it. "Still asleep. See if you can take care of what he wants." Later, I imagined she had given a little smile when she said it.
I slipped through the door, still wearing only my boxers, closing it swiftly and silently behind me. "No, she's still sleeping. Can I help you with anything?"
Bill smiled. "Well, just follow me into the living room for a moment."
I padded on bare feet down our carpeted hall, and walked out into the living room. We had bought the house with a grand view of Mount Rainier in the near distance, and early morning light had begun to filter through the evergreens, giving the room its characteristic dawn glow, through the windows stretching to the ceiling twenty feet above. "Let's sit down," I suggested, walking to one of our couches.
Before I could sit, he stepped up to me, and I felt his hand brush against my flaccid cock, through the thin fabric of the underwear. I didn't move, or move his hand away, and I felt him stroke me again, more distinctly this time, studying my face for a long moment, a faint smile on his lips. If this was a test of my reaction, it looked like I had passed with the second time. I couldn't speak, which was fine with both of us.
He sat me on our couch, sliding my underwear down to my ankles, and I let him take them from there, tossing them on the loveseat. There I sat, as naked as he was clothed. Moving the coffee table off to the side, he kneeled between my knees and spread them apart. My cock reacted to his touch and movement, and I felt my heart quicken as I stiffened.
"Bill, what the Hell?" I said it gently, without any anger, but I was eager to see what he had in mind.
"Loved watching you fuck Claire, and I appreciate how willing you both were to perform for me. I came so hard watching you and jacking off. I've always loved how loud Claire gets when she fucks, and even louder when she cums. You, too, apparently."
I wasn't sure what to say, but managed a weak
okay
.
"I wanted to thank both of you, but especially you. You didn't have to fuck her in front of me, and it was really an enormous gift." His eyes drifted down to my nearly fully erect hard-on, almost leering at my rigid shaft. His eyes flicked up and caught mine. "So, I'm going to return the favor. You have to be quiet, though. I don't want Claire to hear."
He lowered his mouth to my cock, and took it inside slowly, agonizingly, inch by inch until I felt my swollen head touch the back of his throat. Pulling back at the same speed, he gazed into my eyes again. I kept my mouth closed, and breathed through my mouth, not letting a single sound past my lips. "Deal?"
"Deal," I whispered, leaning back and closing my eyes. I felt his mouth descend on my cock, and he started sucking very gently, very slowly. Bill knew what he was doing. His tongue was soft, almost velvety, and his teeth never touched my shaft. He was as good as Claire, slow and deliberate, bringing me almost painfully to the brink of an orgasm, without quite finishing me off. With a languorous rhythm, Bill kept sucking me for several minutes, as I fought not to moan in spite of the pleasure I was receiving.
It struck me that Bill's cocksucking technique felt exactly the same as Claire's. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if he had ever shown her how to suck a cock, or she had shown him. My heart skipped a bet, and a horny thrill ran up my spine as I considered it.
I let my mind drift to the two of them, both on the floor, taking turns sucking someone's cock and critiquing each other's style. I wished it had been me getting twice the attention, and then I imagined sharing Bill's cock with Claire, even though I still hadn't seen his cock. Most blowjobs, I realized, were the same thing, with little differences, but I couldn't shake the idea that mine wasn't the first cock he's sucked. I also wondered who got to swallow the cum when the object of their attention came...
Those visions started an intense orgasm to rise in me, and I felt my loins begin to pulse with the onset of a rush of semen boiling out of me into Bill's waiting mouth. "Are you close?," Bill asked, one word per thrust. Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded, eyes still screwed shut, and hoped he noticed.
He apparently did, because he picked up speed and depth. I grabbed one of the pillows and covered my mouth with it, burying my quickening moans in the deep, thick fabric and stuffing. When I came, the orgasm shuddered through me, and I was glad for the pillow that drowned out almost all of the strangled moan I gave in response.
Spurt after spurt shot out, and Bill never moved his mouth, taking the whole load, spilling not a single drop. I put down the pillow, heart hammering in my chest. Bill levered himself up against my knees, and put his face right in front of mine. I saw a thin dribble of cum at the corner of his mouth, and knew what he wanted.
Grabbing the back of his neck, I pulled him forward until his lips were on mine and parted my own to taste the musky fluid he had just harvested from me. He opened his mouth at the same time, and we shared my semen, our tongues swimming in the thick fluid, even as we swallowed our own portions of it.
After most of it was gone, Bill leaned back, still fully dressed. "Lie back on the couch." I turned and lay down, my head on one of the cushions, wondering what delight was next.
Bill opened his jeans, just the zipper, and let his own cock practically spring through the denim folds and brass-colored zipper. It was hard and throbbing like mine had been moments ago. Straddling me on the couch, one knee on the cushions and his other booted foot on the floor, he perched with his crotch on my bare chest. I reached for his belt buckle, and he caught my hand in his. Quietly, barely over the sounds of the early morning, he said, "I want you to be the only one naked. Call it a fetish..."
He leaned into me, bracing both hands on the arm of the couch. As he leaned forward, his cock brushed my lips, and I eagerly opened them, taking the length of his shaft inside my mouth, feeling it swell even further at the touch of my lips and tongue.
