The Köntlicher Files, Chapter 3: Mark and Samantha
Copyright 2012, 2020 Lisa Summers
The Köntlicher (pronounced: kōn-li-shay) Institute is affiliated with a major Midwestern University, and dedicated to the study of heterosexual relationships disrupted by apparently aberrant behavior by the female partner. Most conclusions are derived from statistical data; however, this data is supplemented by anecdotal submissions from the partners themselves, and can often be illuminating. We have gathered some of these anecdotes, and will publish them here from time to time.
Mark: We just had a baby, a little girl, Niva, three months ago. She established a reasonable sleeping pattern early on, which saved Samantha and I a lot of trouble and sleep. We were doing so well, actually, that Samantha started to worry.
She thought that we should get a camera for the nursery, that would broadcast to our in-home wireless network. That sounded like a good idea to me, and I could even catch up with little Niva while I was at work. So, as the technology geek of our family (isn't every husband?) I was delegated to find one.
I went to Arazon.com, the website that has pretty much everything, and found one - actually, two - that were very highly rated, had great feedback, and as it turned out, came as a '2 cameras for 1' sale priced. They come in a variety of 'covers', things that they're hidden inside, so that a thieving nanny or creeping burglar don't know that they're being recorded. They were high-def, with microphones, and are recorded on the hard drive of whatever computer has the password to access the signal. I had it recorded to the desktop at home, and I could look at the video files anytime, and anywhere, from my tablet, including across the country. Samantha didn't know about that, and thought that it could only be seen on the desktop.
She also thought that there was only one camera.
Anyway, the one for Niva was a no brainer, it was a little pink fuzzy teddy bear that sits on her dresser and overlooks her crib. The other one, well I pondered where that was going to go, and, I take all the blame for where it went - but not for what it saw.
I decided that the most logical place - check that, it was my dick thinking, not the other brain - the hottest place it could go, besides the shower (not waterproof, so that was out) was in the bedroom that Samantha and I slept in and, yeah, made love in. I got a hard on thinking about the next time we fucked. I could get some amazing jack off material, and Samantha would be none the wiser, with the video accessible only by my laptop - I had a second account that had a different i.p. address, a different password, so there was no chance that Samantha would see it, even if she got on my computer. But, she had her own, so why would she? The camera was encased in a book, with a tiny cut out for the lens and microphone, and it looked like the other books in our bedroom bookcase.
It was Sunday night a week later that I got my chance. It was sound activated once it was switched on, so presumably if I turned it on sometime Sunday afternoon, it would come on when we went to bed...to sleep, perchance to dream...heh.
We had a good time in bed that night, and I was really juiced up by the thought that it was being recorded - Sam would never allow it, so it had to be in secret, all being broadcast to the desktop in my den.
I wouldn't get a chance to review it for a few days, as I was going on a business trip and was already loaded down, so I didn't bring my tablet.
I was eager to see what was recorded, and I wasn't disappointed. The video was crystal clear, the audio nearly perfect. I was disappointed by how much my hairy ass got in the way of the picture, though, and there wasn't nearly enough of Sam's hot little pussy or ass or tits, and of my cock filling her. Well, something I could do better next time.
I got busy with things - having a new baby really complicates things, as well as a few disasters at work. It was a few weeks later, while I was on the road, that I remembered the whole setup, and went to see what might have shown up. Niva's videos were routine, of course, and I even got to see some clips of Samantha and Niva, really heart-warming young mother and infant daughter stuff. I thought that, in years to come, they'd both love to see those videos, knowing how women are.
Then I switched to the 'hidden' account, the camera in our bedroom. It again was routine, with Samantha bustling in or out during the day, or getting ready for bed or waking up, all in my absence. As I was watching, I got a call from a co-worker on my cell. I muted the video, but left it running as she talked. That's when I noticed the time bar at the bottom of the video was only about a third of the way through. I got pissed, obviously I'd left the camera on and it was full of video of just nothing. Well, it's not like it would cost us anything.
I was surprised to see that, while it did record us sleeping, it was only a few minutes of time. Then I remembered that the audio had to be at a certain loudness level to record stuff, or it would just shut off. That was confirmed when it clicked next to a scene of Samantha and I waking, then leaving to get dressed. Still...there was a lot left...of what?
That was answered in a few minutes. To my mild surprise, my wife's younger sister Anne entered the bedroom, alone. She's pretty hot - eighteen, in college, she sometimes baby sits for us. She's everybody's picture of a college coed, with long blonde hair, athletic, small tits, nice sized rear, and the rest resides in my imagination (but it's perfect!)
She lay down on the bed, and started caressing herself, her hands on her boobs through her tee shirt, squeezing them gently, and lightly pinching her nipples, which were as hard as little diamonds. She arched her back slightly, liking the feel of hands on her breasts, squeezing, caressing, massaging, hurting her and pleasing her. Then she slipped her hands under the tee, getting closer to the warmth, smoothness and softness of her sweet little breasts. I started getting a boner looking at her caressing herself.
I could see the blue cotton fabric moving, and wishing it were my hands on her soft little titties, but I could imagine it pretty well, even though the most naked I'd ever seen her was last summer in a bikini. A guy can dream, though, and she had a face and a body worth dreaming about. Once or twice, even, I'd pictured it as her I was fucking, as I rode Samantha - just for something different.
She gradually shifted the shirt up her flat stomach and small waist, more and more of her tanned body showing, and I was all wood by that point. Finally, she just impatiently pulled the shirt up to under her neck, and I could see her sweet, magnificent tits, her nipples pink and so fucking cute, and her fingers were all over herself there, her body wriggling as she could feel her pussy wetting, and her clit tingling.
She ground her thighs together, squeezing her cunt, and I was beginning to hope that I might get to see more than just her hot little boobs. Maybe some pussy, or ass - although with her wearing Daisy Dukes, I almost could already see the promised land - but not quite, frustratingly.
Finally, after what seemed like hours - why do women have to be so fucking slow at getting to fucking, whether themselves alone or somebody else? She finally let her right hand slip down between her legs, while her left hand was still skating finger tips and nails over her naked breasts. Her hand stroked the insides of her tanned thighs, leaving white pressure marks where her nails scratched over the skin, her legs moving oh so slightly as she responded to her imaginary lover caressing so close to her pussy.
Her head was back, her mouth was slightly open, lips parted, as she let her fantasy lover kiss her, slowly, deeply and passionately, judging by her face, and how her hip movements speeded up.
"Oh yes, that's nice...you're so sweet and gentle...touch me there, ahhhh good," she moaned, her right hand moving up to apply pressure to her clit and pussy, pushing against the frayed, worn denim of her shorts, so close to heaven...her hips thrusting up..."Fuck, fuck so good, aaahh, I'm cumming, baby, cumming when you touch me..."
Anne writhed around on the bed, mashing her hot butt into the sheets and mattress. I couldn't figure out why she'd picked our bed to masturbate on. Didn't she have a home of her own? But I wasn't complaining, nor would any red blooded American male interested in pussy.
After she relaxed some, she reached down with both hands and unbuttoned the copper rivet at the top of her jeans, then unzipped the brass zipper to the bottom. But she didn't pull them down, and I was very disappointed. I did see a flash of shiny pink in the vee where the zipper opened, and I thought that Anne might be shaved, showing me her lovely, smooth vulva. She slipped her right hand inside the unzipped shorts, and I thought I also saw a strip of white as her fingers disappeared from view, so she probably had a pair of panties on. Too bad.
The jeans and panties began moving up and down as she rubbed her clit, then kind of rolled as it looked like she was slipping fingers inside her pussy. From her running narrative, that was probably it.
"Oh fuck, baby, fuck me deep, fuck me hard...harder, do my pussy, do me so hard and deep...I love feeling you inside me, in me, on me, owning me..yessss," she hissed, as she took her fingers out of her shorts, and put them between her lips, licking and sucking on her wet fingers, moaning and writhing again as she came, yet again.
"Oh god, you taste so god, let me lick you all night," she cooed to her fantasy lover. I had thought it was a guy, and she was just too horny to wait, but now I was beginning to wonder about her. Anne always had boyfriends, and, while she was pretty athletic, there was nothing dykey about her. Could she be fantasizing about another woman?