Adjoining

"It's probably his tongue," I whispered. "I bet he's using his tongue right now."

My wife shook her head. "No," she whispered back. "Not yet. It's his finger. On the outside. He's just licked it. And he's sliding it across her labia, but not the clit, not yet." A moment of silence, then the sigh changed texture, a little more ragged. "There, that's the clit," Karen said. Her hand strayed to my hand. I could feel her pulse.

We had both heard the sigh from next door the moment we came into the motel room, although my first thought was that it sounded like an old window air conditioner that was about to die. Then I realized that, in January in the Midwest, it wasn't very likely. Karen, though, knew right away. She put her suitcase on the bed and came up behind me. I could see her arched eyebrows in the mirror.

"Sounds like someone's enjoying herself," she whispered, nodding towards the next room. I started to reply, but she reached around me and put her finger to my lips. She shook her head. The sigh repeated, a little louder, a little longer. Now I knew, too. Karen's eyes glistened as she smiled. She wanted to listen. So did I. The third time I heard the unknown woman breathe heavily, I was already starting to get hard. I wanted to jump my wife right then, make her moan. Still, Karen was right: we might scare off the game.

Now here we were, sitting on the edge of the bed. Somehow, we had quietly set our luggage out on the second bed. In earnest silence we had almost stripped down, me to my now strained briefs, Karen to just her panties. We had not made any noise, and so the entertainment had continued. Somewhere in the next room, a woman was becoming more and more aroused. Really, all that separated us was two desks and a wall. Our bathroom was farther away than the stranger, who now gave a little groan. Karen smiled, then whispered. "That was his tongue."

"Oh," said the voice next door. "Oh. Oh." A pause, then a long "Ohhhhh" trailed off upwards. It was actually a sweet voice, a little higher than my wife's. For a moment I thought of her as disembodied, and then I realized that was wrong. The stranger was saying that she was very embodied. Meanwhile, my wife's body was right there nearby me on the bed. So far, trying to preserve the situation, we'd barely touched. It was agonizing for me. I was hungry as hell to jump all over Karen, make her sigh and moan, give the neighbors an aural treat. I glanced at her, and I could tell that she was aching too. Her nipples were hard. This woman I had known and loved for these years, she was turned on. "Ohhhhhh," said the unseen voice, "Please, don't stop."

Our love life has been nothing spectacular. But we know what we're doing. Sometimes Karen will be at the stove, and the light will reflect off her cleavage in just that way, I'll come up behind her and slip my hand inside her bra, squeeze her breast, and before you know it we'll be on the floor, me inside her, stirring the pot, if you will. She tells me the curve of my ass as I put in a video--even a g-rated one--will suddenly get her going. Or one of us will hear a song on the radio and then the next moment her hand will be wrapped around my cock, her beautiful vagina in the palm of my hand, our breathing rough, our cries passionate.

So why are we sitting here now so chastely? We are overhearing a woman climbing the mountain of desire, surely just moments away from climax, and we're not even touching. We're damn near naked, and we just sit here listening, listening. We eavesdrop on someone else's fire. Are we embarrassed that we might be caught? That the couple next door will be offended? Right now it doesn't sound like they care. The woman's voice notches up another tone, she's half-whimpers for a moment, then chuckles a little under her breath. Karen and I glance at each other, and we smile. But still, neither one makes a move. Then suddenly the voice cries out: "Yes!" In our room, we both take a deep breath and let it out, quietly.

At last, Karen leans against my arm, but nothing more. I feel her against my shoulder, but nothing more. She turns her face, it's almost as if she's got tears, but she kisses me on the lips and says, "I didn't think listening would be this hot."

"I know," I mouth. "You have to use your imagination." And it was true. What was she like? Blonde, brunette? Red? Were her breasts jiggling as she bounced up and down? Would they spill over my hand, or would they just fit nicely? Was her vagina long and skinny? Was she shaved? I felt a little guilty, imagining her body while Karen was right there. I looked at the way her breasts were highlighted in the near darkness of our room. These tits had been my playground for the past seven years. I loved their feel, their response, how just by wrapping two fingers around her left nipple I could get Karen wet in seconds. Her pussy was a bowl filled with spice. Our lovemaking was just that: making love with someone I truly admired and to whom I was utterly devoted. Hell, I was devoted to giving her pleasure. So why was I now so eager to imagine different nipples, a different clit, different juices?

"That's right," she whispered back, looking at the wall. "How long is his dick, anyway?" Whoa! I'd forgotten him. But Karen, obviously, had not. She was imagining, too, and for a moment we had followed the same path to different conclusions. The woman next door was crying out, and I was imagining a penis sliding in and out, in and out, in and then hold and then out. But it was my penis that I saw. Even as I brought this picture to my mind, her cries got faster. Karen blushed, realizing what she'd said. I ran my hand down her naked spine, and she shivered. I often think of her back as another erogenous zone. She kissed me again. "You were thinking of her, weren't you?" she whispered in my ear. "Of course you were. She sounds tasty. But I haven't heard him at all yet, and he's been going a long time."

This was true. The woman's sighs, and moans, and now her cries--these were all we had heard. There hadn't been a peep out of him. Come to think of it, there hadn't been any squeak of bed springs, no rattle of furniture, nothing to suggest the bulk of two human beings making the beast with two backs. Were they doing it on the floor? And he hadn't made a noise. What kind of stamina did that take? How could I possibly measure up?

Right then, Karen's hand dropped into my lap, reaching into my briefs and gathering my hard cock. And right then the woman's voice leaped up another octave. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! I'm going to--AH!" The sound was so lush, and the sensation at my crotch so powerful, I almost lost it right there. I drew in a breath to keep from crying out myself. I stood up quickly, breaking Karen's contact and lowering my briefs quickly. I turned quickly to her as she sat on edge of the bed. I grabbed her underwear and pulled, sliding it down her legs and off her feet. Then I was on my knees before her. Imagination was no longer enough; I needed her vagina; I needed to bury my face in my wife's wet pussy. I touched my lips to her lower ones.

Unexpectedly, I was rewarded with a low chuckle--but not from Karen. The laughter came from next door.

Karen's pussy was wet and slick with desire. Her clit was starting to emerge from its hiding place. She'd been thinking about that dick for some time. But at the sound of the laughter next door, she pulled away from me, just a little bit. I looked up at her face. She had turned away. Silence descended once again, just for a moment, and then we heard it once more: that little, but very telling, air-conditioner sigh. It wasn't much, but it was unmistakable. Our neighbor was going back for seconds.

I wasn't sure what to do for a moment. I was hungry. Karen's vagina was clearly hungry. I could tell we were both horny as hell, and it didn't matter to me if anyone else overheard what or who was certainly coming. But I couldn't tell what my wife's mood was. Karen resolved it. Still looking away, she grabbed the back of my head and pulled me in, quick and hard. I had just an instant to get my face pointed right. I ran my tongue from bottom to top of her slit and circled the nub at the top, slowly. She tasted pungent and wonderful. My hands were at her bottom and I was pulling her into my face as she was pulling my face into her. I felt her shudder once, hard. Her breath came in quick. Then, from the next room, came that sigh, followed by that moan. And then again, building more quickly this time. Once more, Karen pulled away from me, leaving my tongue to taste nothing but the air before her genitals. Now I really didn't know what was going on.

I looked up at her quizzically, but she wasn't looking at me. Her face was turned away, towards the door to the adjoining room. Her nipples were hard, and I could see between her breasts a glow that could only be that little bit of perspiration that comes from her blushing excitement there, a sure sign of her arousal. Karen's stomach rose and fell with her breathing, now quicker than usual, and her breasts rose and fell as well. I glanced below her bush (lightly trimmed; we've never been worried with shaving) and saw the glistening sheen of her juices mixed with my saliva. These sights made me hunger more for her. But when I looked up again, she was paying attention to none of these things. Her gaze on the door was unbroken. Gradually, though, I realized that it wasn't her eyes that mattered; it was her ears. She was listening, hard, intent.

But there was only silence. Slowly, carefully, I ran my hand over her inner thigh. My fingers idly played up over her stomach and then down through her triangle. One finger stroked down and then up the length of her vagina. I felt rather than heard her intake of breath. She relaxed just a little, so I pushed my face forward. I didn't think it would take her very long to reach her first orgasm; she was that excited. My tongue made a little circle around her clit.

And then, from the next room, that moan came once more, loud and clear this time.

Now Karen pushed me away, hard. I fell back on my butt, a little awkward and somewhat confused. By the time I had caught myself from falling further to the floor, Karen was up on her feet. She strode to the door connecting to the adjoining room. In the half light, naked, somewhat flushed with excitement, she was already a gorgeous figure. I was already hard, but this really turned me on. I wasn't sure what she would do.

Maybe she wasn't either. She paused an instant, then swung the door open. Of course! An adjoining room, yes, but you can only open the door on your own side. But Karen, apparently, was unfazed. She took a deep breath, and then pounded on the door with the heel of her hand. "Hey!" she called out.

Silence. I really didn't know what her game was here, and I was a little embarrassed. Being Puritanical was not her usual role. I looked around for her robe, but it was apparently still in the packed suitcase. I stood up, thinking about grabbing up the blanket from the bed and just wrapping her in it.

Karen, though, was unconcerned. She pounded again, and then once more, when there was no response. "Hey!" she repeated. "You've had your fun. It's my turn!"

Still silence from the other room. But now Karen put her hands up on the other, closed door. She turned a little to look at me, and she grinned. Leaning just a little against the other door, she moved her feet just a little apart, opening herself up for me. She motioned to me with her head. I needed no more instruction. Now I knew the game she wanted to play. She wanted me to take her, up against the door, with only that partition separating us from our neighbors. They'd given us an audio show. We were going to return the favor with one of our own, maybe better, more intense. I was so excited already I wasn't sure how long I could last, but I could also tell that Karen was pretty close to the edge already. I got behind her as quickly as I could. I put my hands on her waist, my cock already brushing up against her butt, getting ready to enter her femininity from behind. She leaned a little against the door, using it to push back to meet me.

And that's when we heard the lock on the other door, the one on the neighbor's side, turn and click. And with just that little warning, with us standing there on the point of fucking, the other door swung open, into the neighboring room. Karen lurched just a little forward; not all her weight had been against the door, but it was obvious she was caught by surprise.

So too, a little, was the woman standing in front of us. She was tall, with long straight hair, and she was wearing a white bathrobe. For a moment, I thought she had taken Karen's. She stood for just a moment, looking us over, and then she smiled. "So it's your turn?" she asked. "Then I suppose you ought to come in."

Karen lowered her hands, fig-leaf position. The unknown woman frowned a little. "No, not like that," she said. "Let me get a good look at you." Gently the woman took Karen's hands in hers and then raised them, pulling them apart. "Hmm," she said, looking over my wife's body. "How gorgeous." Karen trembled a little. "You know," said the woman, "if you want a turn, you really ought to come in." She began to step back, never dropping her gaze or Karen's hands.

And my wife followed, nude, into the room next door. She turned, looked down the room beyond my field of vision, and a quizzical look crossed her face. Suddenly she smiled. Karen turned back to me and motioned me through the door. I was a little perturbed. Was there something about our neighbor's cock she wanted me to see? That hardly seemed like her. She motioned for me again, and this time I went through.

Of course, the room was the mirror opposite of ours. We had not yet turned on a light, but the one on our neighbors' desk was lit. Clothes lay strewn randomly on the floor, signs of their frenzy, but I didn't notice them much. My gaze was mostly on the way the light from the single bulb played with Karen's breast and the areola and plunged her ass into shadow; I also have to admit that I was admiring the way the neighbor woman's robe had slipped open and how the same light was trying to feel through to her still hidden bosom. She was smiling at someone else near the desk. "Look what I found," she said. "She claims that it's her turn." Karen's eyes were fixed on me. I finally turned to look at this strange woman's male partner, sitting in the chair next to the motel desk.

Except it wasn't a man. It was a woman. A very naked woman. Her legs were open, and I could see her pussy lips parted and wet.

Two instincts tore me apart. As a red-blooded, fully horny male, I was all primed and ready to watch her naked body. But I was also a married (if still horny) male, and out of deference to our marriage I turned away and looked at my (also very naked) spouse. I half expected her to turn away too out of politeness, or to have her looking at me and chiding me for my prurient interest. But no, her gaze was also drawn to this surprise. Her lips parted, and I watched her eyes roaming the body of the naked woman in the chair. My cock twitched as I caught my wife looking and lusting. Well, if Karen could do it, then that seemed like permission to me.

"She says it's her turn," repeated the tall one, the one in the robe, the only one with any clothes on at all.

"Then she should take it," said the woman in the chair. She reached between her legs to heaven and pulled out a long, clear toy. I noticed it was covered with a condom; this was no novice. The woman shuddered when the slightly larger head emerged. Then she placed the tool on the nearby table and stood up. She motioned to Karen to take her place in the chair.

Karen hesitated. "Aw, are you shy?" the chair woman asked. "She's awfully talented," she said, nodding toward her friend in the robe, who slowly ran a hand down my wife's back and cupped one cheek. The strange, unclothed woman stepped closer to Karen, touched her hair, then her neck, then the side of one breast. "I think you'd like it. Especially if it's your turn." There, now I heard it; now it made sense. Hers was the voice we had heard. Her hand was now at Karen's wrist and she began to pull my wife towards the chair.

"No," Karen whispered. "Or maybe, yes. But I'm not alone. I want him with me."

"Well of course, dear," the robed one said with a smile. And very quickly, before I knew it, she had guided me by the shoulders till I was standing with my back to the cushions of the motel chair one of those generic things with gaudy covered arms. And with a quick movement, again to the shoulders, she pushed me back until I was sitting, facing a vision of all these women. I could now see clearly the vagina of the undressed stranger: her cleft and slightly parted lips, the glistening moisture of her mound, the hint of her clit just suggested in the shadows. And then I couldn't see anything but my wife's back as the robed woman now guided her into place and had Karen sit on the chair, too, her butt landing on the cushion between my legs. My cock pressed against Karen's back.

The robed woman then knelt before us. I wrapped my hands around my wife's waist, and I felt rather than saw the stranger gently push apart Karen's knees. There was a moment's pause, and then Karen's head came back and her breath came in quick. Slowly I moved my left hand to cup her breast; I lifted it and gently squeezed the nipple. But, just for now, I didn't want to move my right hand from just below Karen's belly button. Just leaving it there--not moving, not caressing--I could feel through my wife's body, the long slow movement of the stranger's tongue against my wife's pussy.

It was hot, the whole scene. Karen's nipple was hard in my hand. She sighed and leaned further back. I kissed her neck; my dick quivered against her spine but was otherwise unattended. It didn't matter. What mattered was Karen's obvious pleasure. I couldn't see anything, but I could just make out the gentle rasp as the robed stranger's tongue apparently fondled and stroked up to Karen's clit. She trembled in response. I thought for a moment of running my right hand down into the action but thought better of it. From time to time Karen had mentioned curiosity about a woman eating her out. Maybe it was best just to let her fantasy happen; just to be there contributing my support would be hot enough. I lifted my right hand to stroke her breast.

And that's when I found her breast was occupied. I hadn't heard our naked neighbor move, but there she was, at Karen's right breast. Instead of Karen's nipple, I found this woman's cheek. She was kissing, lightly licking the other nipple. For a moment she stopped, then she kissed my fingers before returning to her perusal of my wife's breast.

Just this moment, this notice that I was there, was part of this scene, made my already hard member twitch. But I wanted just a bit more. I didn't want to be serviced. But I did want some active participation. I raised my hand to cup Karen's breast. With two fingers, I squeezed lightly against my wife's nipple. I directed it to the mouth of the naked stranger, who purred, "Oh yes," and then drew the nipple in with a soft sucking sound. Karen squirmed in my lap and sighed. "Oh yes," she agreed.

Then, to my surprise, Karen moved her own hand to grasp mine, the one on her breast. She pulled my hand away. For a moment I was doubtful. Had I exceeded my permission? There was a pause, finally she guided my hand back to another breast. She put my hand to the breast of our naked friend.

Ah. Permission granted. At least by Karen. I waited a moment, then lightly moved my hand in a slow circle around our friend's breast. The stranger breathed out a whisper, "Yes." She paused. "Do that again," she said. And so I did. And again.