Challenge Husbands View

This story involves a wife's infidelity. Without any repercussions. If you do not like these types of stories ... please move on to something you do like. However if such stories are something you can or do appreciate please enjoy.

To those still reading, this is a rewrite of a story I posted years ago under a different username. The idea behind the two views is simple; I enjoy reading stories written from both views and will often wonder how one I've read would sound in the opposing view. So I did it here. I hope you enjoy at least one of them and look forward to reading your comments.

*****

I held my breath, waiting to see what my wife would say . . . what she would do.

Personally I couldn't believe that I'd just said what I had. But now it was out and I figured that I might as well stick to my guns and see what would happen.

"Fine, smarty-pants," Tiffany scoffed, grinning mischievously. "Let's do it?"

She was trying to call me on what she thought was a bluff. But I wasn't bluffing. And knowing my beautiful wife, I knew I needed to make it a real challenge so she wouldn't back down . . . so she couldn't back down.

"I don't think you will," I goaded her. "I think you'll chicken out."

Two young men sat frozen a few feet away as me and Tiff stared one another down, each of us silently challenging the other to be the first to "chicken out."

I knew they were anxious, and with good reason since they were at the center of the challenge. Well . . . them and Tiff. Our God-son Chris and his friend Jake were staying the weekend with us while Chris' parents were out of town. Although he was 18, his mother was the extremely over-protective type and wasn't comfortable leaving him home alone. So we'd agreed to have him stay with us, and so that he wouldn't be too bored we'd let him invite his friend Jake. We'd all been watching a couple movies, just kind of bumming it, when the boys' reaction to a make-out scene had gotten my attention. Thinking I'd have some fun ribbing them, I'd called them out on it. This led to them admitting they had very little experience with girls.

"Why not?" I'd chided them. "You're both good lookin' guys. You should have lots of girlfriends. You sure you two aren't..."

Chris had spent enough time around me to get my insinuation.

"No, Tom" he chuckled. "We do like girls. It's just that most of the girls we go out with are kinda uptight, so we only get a good-night kiss."

"Oh. Okay," I mused, thinking how I might still have a little fun. "Well then, how'd you two like to kiss Tiffany here?"

"Hell yes!" Jake chirped immediately.

"Yes!" Chris echoed his friend's sentiment.

Give them credit, they both had balls.

"Wait! What?" Tiffany glared at me.

I knew Chris had been crushing on my wife for years. And it was obvious his friend shared his feelings. But who could blame them? My wife is beautiful. She has fresh girl-next-door features and long, strawberry blond hair. In her mid-thirties she's still got a nice body with ample breasts and slim hips that looks good even in a casual outfit like the loose shorts and baggy old concert tee she was bumming around in this night. She'd taken scissors to the shirt's collar, cutting a slit down that created a loose vee-opening which provided a brief hint of her lovely cleavage.

The room fell extremely silent for a moment with even the muted TV seeming to grow quieter.

From the opposite end of the couch Tiffany's eyes burned into me and I braced myself for a slap across the head. I returned her glare with a cocky smirk. At that point I was only looking to have a little harmless fun at . . . well, really anyone's expense.

But things change.

Tiff glanced over at the boys for a moment before saying anything.

"Tom," to my surprise her hiss was not as venomous as I'd expected. But her cold expression warned me that I was treading on very . . . thin . . . ice. And perhaps I should consider backpedaling.

But, to paraphrase Popeye, I am who I am.

"I'm not talking about just a quick little good-night-peck-at-the-door kiss," I grinned mischievously. "I'm talking about a locked-lips-make-out-session right here on the couch."

Tiffany's eyes became thin slits radiating irritation at me.

"Say... five minutes a piece," I finished.

That was when I saw the boys freeze in my peripheral vision, both staring at me and Tiffany locked in our battle of wills.

She blinked.

"What do you say boys?" My smirk grew with that first victory, as small as it may have been. "You up for it?"

"Absolutely," Jake said, his voice quiet, like he was afraid to break the tension.

"Yes. Definitely," Chris said, nearly as quietly.

"What do you say, Tiff?" I put the challenge directly to her. "You wanna show these young men what a real woman is like?"

That's when I started holding my breath, waiting to see what she'd say or do.

And like the trooper she is, she made me wait for a long, LONG minute before throwing the challenge right back at me.

"Fine, smarty-pants," Tiffany scoffed, grinning mischievously. "Let's do it?"

She was trying to call me on what she thought was a bluff. But I wasn't bluffing. And knowing my beautiful wife, I knew I needed to make it a real challenge so she wouldn't back down . . . so she couldn't back down.

"I don't think you will," I goaded her. "I think you'll chicken out."

She glared at me for another minute before her expression slowly softened and she turned to the boys.

"Which one of you is first?" She asked nonchalantly.

"Me!" Chris leapt to his feet, pushing his friend down with one hand.

"Alright then," I clapped, moving from the couch to an easy chair. "I'll be the time keeper."

Chris scrambled onto the couch next to Tiffany. Yet, for all his enthusiasm and the courage he'd shown to this point, it was obvious he was nervous as hell. Initially he sat too far away and had to slide closer to her as he struggled to get one arm around her shoulders. Then he leaned in to kiss her with a kind of sincere awkwardness.

Watching him I was unhappily reminded of my own, earliest experiences.

Now that the challenge had been accepted, I knew Tiffany wouldn't embarrass the young man. She patiently waited, even giving him a reassuring smile as he stumbled through the opening process. Then, when he leaned in, she helped him get positioned so that neither of them were uncomfortable. And after a couple minutes she got him settled down, even teaching him some finer points about kissing. This led to him being much more at ease during the final minutes, even managing to get his tongue into her mouth toward the end.

"Time," I announced after five minutes.

Chris' disappointment was obvious. But he obediently moved away. As he did it was plain to me that he was having to adjust himself in his pants.

Jake jumped in to take his place. He either had more experience than Chris, or he'd paid close attention to Tiffany's instructions. His arm slid smoothly around her shoulders while his other hand gently rested on her side, just below her ribs. He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers, his tongue prying past them within a minute. As they kissed Tiff's hands slid up from his arms to lightly scratch at his shoulder blades.

Watching them, something stirred inside me, making me forget to watch the time. When I remembered just over seven minutes had passed.

"Time," I called, a grin splitting my face.

"That was awesome," Jake sang as he released my wife.

"I wish I'd known what I was doing," Chris sighed, sitting on the floor, his eyes downcast.

I looked at Tiffany. She appeared sympathetic to his plight, and that gave me an idea of how I might have a little more fun.

"Hon, what do ya say you give Chris another shot?"

Her eyes darted to me, glaring.

For his part, Chris did probably the smartest thing he could have; he stayed put and kept his mouth shut.

Tiffany glared at me for a minute before, once more, her expression softened and she gave a casual shrug of her shoulders.

"Alright. One more go, Chris," I clapped.

"That's not fair," Jake half-chuckled/half-pouted.

"He's right, Hon," I said. "It's not his fault Chris went first and he got to learn from Chris' mistakes. If Chris gets a second turn, so should he."

Chris froze with his ass inches from the couch cushion, his expression filled with dread. He understood this could keep him from the second round he was on the verge of.

It was Jake's turn to keep quiet, and he did. He remained on the floor giving Tiffany a hopeful look.

I still had no idea what I was doing . . . or where I thought this all might end. I was just having fun. And whether Tiffany ended the whole thing right then, I still had fodder with which to tease all three of them.

Tiffany once more turned her gaze directly on me, stubborn confidence radiating from her slit eyes.

I deflected that glare with my own cocky smirk.

"That does only seem fair," she gave me her own wicked little grin.

Beaming from ear-to-ear Chris finished taking his seat. He had learned from the first time and his arm and hand slid more smoothly into place as he leaned in to brush his lips across hers before locking them into place. His tongue soon pried past her lips and into her mouth. They kissed deeply, their tongues swirling over one another.

After a couple minutes Chris shifted in his seat and I knew from personal experience he was trying to accommodate his growing cock. As he did though, his hand slid up from below her ribs, to the side of her breast where it pressed against the hidden mound.

Tiffany didn't seem to notice; the contact was so minimal. Her own arms were wrapped around his shoulders, her hands rubbing his upper back while they kissed.

It was at this point that things started to change for me. No longer was I simply having a little fun . . . I was enjoying the show. Watching my wife make-out with this young man . . . seeing their bodies starting to meld . . . was having a deeper effect on me.

One that I hadn't expected.

And again, I forgot my duty as time keeper.

When I did remember, they were three minutes past the allotted five minutes.

"Time."

Chris begrudgingly pulled himself away from my wife.

Straightening up in her seat, and adjusting her t-shirt, Tiffany averted her gaze away from me. The slight flush of her cheeks told me why.

It only took Jake a moment to slide into place, his arm and hand taking up the same starting position as Chris' had. As he leaned in Tiffany laid her head back and closed her eyes. Jake brought his lips to my wife's and they kissed deeply . . . passionately, their tongues battling. He'd obviously seen his friend's hand move, and he didn't wait long before sliding his own up to fondle the side of Tiffany's breast.

Again I became enraptured by the scene before me and forgot to watch the time. When I did check it I realized I had no idea how long they'd been going, since I'd forgotten to even mark the beginning time. I argued with myself about what to do for a few seconds. Should I just call it, say the five minutes were up? Or should I wait a couple, make sure Jake got his allotted time?

Off to the side Chris was watching them intently and I wondered in what order him and Jake would disappear into the bathroom later to jerkoff.

Looking back at the pair on the couch I decided to give them another minute or two as the passion of their make-out session was definitely building.

Jake had shifted, providing his growing cock more room. This shifting had forced my wife to slide further down into the couch so that he hovered over her. It was during this shifting that his hand slowly . . . very slowly . . . slipped down under her breast to cup her ample mound, his fingers barely tensing as if he was uncertain about what to do.

Again I had to give him credit for his moxie. I mean, here he was, making out with an older woman in front of her husband and he had the courage to fondle her tit.

Since Tiff did nothing to stop him, I assumed his touch wasn't registering. I figured this was mostly due to his hand's extremely slow progress. But no matter the cause and affect between the two, the sight of this had an effect on me, again making me forget about the time allotment.

Tiffany's own hands were busy as well. One had moved up to press on the back of his head, holding his lips firmer against hers. Her other roamed across his back, her nails scratching at his t-shirt.

Jake's hand slid up . . . trying to cover the front of her tit.

This Tiffany stopped.

Her hand pushed his away and guided it back to its original starting point.

Damn, he almost made it, I thought.

That was when I decided to call time.

Like his buddy, Jake moved away reluctantly.

Straightening herself and her shirt Tiff watched him move away, a glimmer of regret in her eyes.

In that moment she fascinated me. She was probably the most beautiful I had ever seen her. Her flushed features were soft, relaxed by a heat rolling through her. Her breathing was shallow, her chest rising and falling beneath the baggy t-shirt that offered a brief outline of her swollen, erect nipples atop her full breasts.

I wasn't surprised to see she wasn't wearing a bra.

What did surprise me was what I did.

In that instant, looking at my beautiful wife standing upon the threshold of arousal, I made a rash decision.

A very . . . rash . . . decision.

I'd read wife-watching stories. I'd watched MFM porn. And yes, I had thought about both involving Tiffany; toyed with the idea of watching her, or sharing her with another man. But I'd never thought it might actually happen.

Not until that instant.

Images of Tiffany being fucked by these two young men flashed before my eyes. They made the earlier stirring inside me roar into something more . . . something prominent . . . something demanding. Desperately I sought for an idea of how I could get it to happen. Looking at the boys I knew they'd be up for it with no more encouragement then the sound of a starting pistol. But Tiff . . . Tiffany was a different story. I couldn't just blurt out the idea. Nor would a new challenge work, not for that. No, I needed something subtler . . . something cleverer . . . something sneakier.

I needed the little make-out sessions to continue with the hope that they'd follow a natural progression . . . even if I had to nudge them along.

Tiffany had obviously enjoyed herself, so she'd be open to the idea. I just needed to approach it . . . in . . . the . . . right . . . way.

It's my fault! The thought struck me. I lost track of time! Jake obviously got more time than Chris. I honestly didn't know if that was true, but I did know it was an opportunity.

"I'm sorry, Chris. I messed up. I lost track of time and ended up giving Jake extra minutes," I said, tapping my watch. "I really am sorry, Man."

Now it was up to him. All he had to do was say something that didn't make him sound like a whiney little bitch.

I held my breath.

"Well, that stinks," he kind of sighed. "It was great though. Thanks, Tiffany."

Yes! Great play Chris. I thought, turning my gaze to my beautiful wife.

"Hey, Hon, what would you say to letting Chris get even? One more little session shouldn't hurt anything, right?"

"I- Uh- I guess not," Tiffany stuttered, her expression uncertain.

"Great," Chris cheered, moving toward the couch.

As he settled into position, Tiffany leaned back once more, her arms going around his shoulders. Chris lowered his lips to hers . . . pressing.

"He's about five minutes short. So we'll give him ten, then Jake can have five to even it out." I said casually.

Tiffany's body tensed. She suddenly tried to sit up. But Chris' tongue pried past her lips . . . swirled against hers. Sighing quietly, she relaxed and her hand swung up to the back of Chris' head to press his lips firmer to hers.

I glanced over to see Jake wearing a broad smile.

Again Chris started with his hand just below her ribs. But this time it only took him a second to slide it up and cup the bottom of her breast. He held it there for a long minute, just cradling the full mound, his fingers barely tensing. Then he gradually drew it upward, sliding it up millimeter . . . by . . . millimeter.

Watching his hand slowly crawl up my wife's breast I realized I was holding my breath, mentally willing him to succeed.

And he nearly did.

But just as his hand covered her tit, Tiffany's came down and pushed it away, guiding it back down to her ribs.

By the time hers returned to the back of his head, he was once again cupping the bottom of her breast. A moment later he changed tactics. Instead of trying to cover the front of her tit and fondle it, he simply ran his fingers up and across the mound, his fingertips scrapping at her through the t-shirt, pressing across her swollen nipple.

"Mmm," Tiffany softly mewed.

The less direct approach seemed to elude her conscience, and she allowed him to continue for a couple minutes. He might have even gotten away with it for longer, except his exuberance got the better of him and he eventually covered her mound with his hand and gave it a little squeeze.

"Mmm," Tiffany's back arched, pressing herself into the clasp for a second even as she realized what was happening and her hand came down to push his away.

Undeterred he quickly returned to simply cupping her breast.

The ten minutes was almost up. My brain raced for some idea of how to continue the evening's possibilities. I wasn't sure what I could do and time was running out...

Time . . . Time . . . TIME! Of course, I thought. That's the key. Time.

I waited until a total of 13 minutes had passed.

"Time."

Previously Chris had pulled away from my wife as soon as I'd called it, almost as if he'd been afraid of reprimand if he didn't. This time was different. This time he lingered, continuing to kiss Tiffany for a long moment after I'd spoken. And she didn't push him away either. She simply sat there kissing him back, fingers in his hair and scratching at his back.

Eventually he did dislodge himself though. Climbing off the couch he took great strides to hide the bulge in his pants.

This time Tiffany didn't bother pulling herself up or straightening her t-shirt. Instead she stayed in place, kind of laying back into the couch, her body soft . . . relaxed. Her eyelids were heavy. Her bottom lip quivered with her shallow breaths. Her t-shirt had shifted, pulled tighter over her breasts to provide a clearer outline of her swollen nipples.

Oh yea, she is getting hot, I congratulated myself. I hadn't thought about it until then, but I realized that if my plan failed, I would at least get laid very well later.

Jake slid onto the couch, right up against her, his hand landing at the side of her breast. As he leaned in she grabbed at the back of his head and pulled him to her, raising her lips to his eagerly. Jake's hand slid effortlessly to cup the bottom of her breast, his fingers tensing slightly.

"Mmm," Tiffany mewed into their kiss.

Chris stood watching them, trying to conceal the obvious bulge in his pants, his face radiating lust.

I hadn't bothered looking at my watch, I had no intention of actually timing anything from here on out. Instead I simply watched the pair make-out, their lips pressing together, their tongues swirling and swiping at one another.

Jake took another cue from his friend and instead of simply trying to outright cup my wife's breast, he scratched at it through her top several times first. His fingers moved up . . . down . . . pressing . . . scrapping . . . side . . . to . . . side . . . exploring. Each swipe caused her pliant mound to shift slightly beneath her shirt, bringing her swollen nipple into ever clearer outline.

"Mmm. Mmm," Tiffany mewed over and over. Her body slid down a little more, her back arching, lifting her chest.