Usually on Saturday mornings, Debbi and I have a nice breakfast together. We make a quick run to the grocery for some fresh fruit and make our meal. It’s one of our marriage rituals. I was knocked out from the action the night before and figured Debbi was equally exhausted. But I faintly heard the front door slam shut, and when I reached for my wife in the bed, she wasn’t there. I guess she made the weekly run without me. It was a wonderful morning. Debbi opened the curtains before she left and the sun rays poured into our bedroom. Plus, I woke up reliving the wanton, liberating sexcapades with Debbi and Sam. My penis had its regular morning hardness pushing through my briefs, but with the soothing sensation of complete satisfaction that comes from having sex. Truth be told, I felt sexually insatiable. A few hours removed from one of my biggest orgasms and awesome sex, and I was hornier than the night before. I definitely wanted some more action.
I got out of bed and went to the kitchen—hard dick and all—for a glass of orange juice or water. I was still trying to shake sleep from my eyes when Samantha came into the kitchen. She was wearing one of Debbi’s white terrycloth robes. Her hair was ruffled and she was barefoot. Sam held the robe closed with her left hand and her breasts cleaved between the opening. A slight tingle of erotic sensation rose in my testicles and my dick twitched from the sight.
“Good morning…” Sam said as she smiled brightly and slyly. I looked at her from the corner of my eyes and smiled back with a seductive grin on my lips.
“Good morning, love,” I returned. “How you feelin’?” Samantha continued to approach me.
“Wonderful.” The closer she came, the more my attention went away from my pursuit of a beverage to watching my sexy neighbor draw near. For a split second, I thought about the lack of clothes I had on in Sam’s presence, then forgot about being modest. All the polite manners went out the window last night in our mini-orgy. Besides, at the moment, a silent sexual tension was building in the kitchen, and I wanted Samantha to get a look at my wood beneath my boxers. She did and it caused her pupils to dilate.
“I bet you’re not thinking about John anymore!”
“Ummm…not anymore,” Samantha responded. There was a hint of lust in her voice I read without having to look at her. And if I happen to be mistaken about that, it was confirmed the following second when Sam ran her smooth fingertips down my spine. I turned around to face her and found Sam’s firm and full breasts standing bare in front of me. Her pink nipples stood erect and ready. Her inner thighs rubbed together in seductive anticipation. It dawned on me that this is what Samantha wanted last night, and probably every night since the first time we met: A one-on-one encounter between the two of us without my wife Debbi to interfere. We crossed a lot of lines last night, but Sam wasn’t too sure that Debbi would be open to her good friend fucking her husband right before her eyes. Safer to be a voyeur and cum from the view than to kill the mood with the wrong move.
