Edit: The original post of this story was my first effort for this site. Thank you to those who gave feedback which I have incorporated into this edited version. I have also changed the ending to the original one that I wrote, which is also what actually happened for the most part. I ended the story rather abruptly in the version I first posted as the truth is rather embarrassing, But since none of you know who I am, I have decided to let it all out. Enjoy!
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I love watching my wife dance. She does more than just move to the music, she makes love to it. Her body, tall and sinuous, undulates and writhes as though an invisible lover is touching her, teasing her. I'm not much of a dancer myself, not that I have ever turned down a chance to slow dance with Betty. I live to touch her. But I generally sit out the uptempo songs and watch her dance to those, sometimes when she's alone but preferably when she has a partner.
Perhaps that's where my fantasy started. A small kernel of pleasure from watching Betty move so sensuously with other men, which gradually developed into a desire to watch her be seduced and pleasured by someone else. I kept my dark, perverted secret to myself for the first half of our marriage. We enjoyed an active and occasionally kinky sex life. We vacationed at nude resorts, made love in semi public locations, and posted online anonymous pictures and videos of ourselves making love.
This is a true story, by the way. It's a cautionary tale about a journey of sexual discovery my wife and I took together. I don't recall exactly when that journey started, but I do remember how. We began introducing a hotwife fantasy into our lovemaking a number of years ago. I did not consider this to be a cuckold fantasy, at least as I understand the term. It was more a stag/vixen fantasy. I had no desire to be humiliated or lose control. I suppose that's how most of these fantasies start, with the illusion of control.
Betty embraced my fantasy cautiously at first. She did it for me initially, or perhaps she only pretended it was for me because she soon took to it with enthusiasm. It wasn't long before my fantasy became our fantasy and it became a regular theme during our lovemaking. We came up with many variations, whispering our forbidden desires to each other, heightening our passion. We role played different scenes but they all had a common element: me watching my beautiful wife Betty getting fucked by another man.
Betty enjoyed our role playing so much, I wondered if we might turn fantasy into reality. Even after I broached the topic and she made it clear, in her gentle but firm manner, that it would never happen, I clung to the desperate hope we might someday be in the right place at the right time. I think if Betty had given me any indication she was open to living out our fantasy, perhaps I would have been more cautious. Because when the opportunity finally arose, I was less enthusiastic than I thought I would be. Of course, every post orgasmic moment of clarity I had ever experienced prepared me to some extent, but all of that clarity tends to disappear in the heat of the moment.
So, ironically, it was Betty's firm resolve that led us to the opportunity to take that step, no, that giant leap. However, I wasn't giving this any thought as I sat at the bar watching her dance with Trevor, whom we had met earlier in the afternoon.
"They look good together, don't they?" I turned to look at Lindsay, Trevor's wife, and murmured my agreement.
"I love to watch him dance with other women. It's like he's seducing them right in front of me. In fact, sometimes he is..."
She let her sentence hang, and stared at me as she sipped her drink. Her comment was not as unexpected as you might think. We were on vacation, another nude resort, but this one catered to swingers, although many guests didn't participate in any extracurricular activities. Betty was unaware of this aspect of the resort and would not have agreed to come if she had known. I was concerned she might react poorly if anyone was too aggressive, but I was comforted to some extent by the online reviews which promised a laid back environment. My plan was to feign ignorance once she figured out what kind of resort I had booked for us. Yep, not a well thought out plan.
"So, Mike, are you and Betty into the lifestyle at all?"
I had been rehearsing my answer to this question for weeks as I knew it would likely be asked of us. I had two answers prepared, one if Betty was with me and another if not. I tried out the latter, which was basically true.
"Well, we're curious but we've never done anything with anyone else. I'm more curious than Betty, though. We have a great fantasy life but Betty is reluctant to go further. What about you and Trevor?"
Lindsay didn't answer at first but turned to watch our spouses dancing, drawing my gaze with her. We were at a club in the resort and they had been on the floor for 20 minutes or so. A slow song had just started, the first since they got up. I felt a slight pang of jealousy as Trevor gently pulled Betty to him. She resisted slightly at first as she had been on her way to get me. Slow songs were mine. Nevertheless, she relented and allowed Trevor to gather her into his arms. I was a bit miffed at how easily she surrendered, but this thought was swimming upstream against my arousal
"We enjoy the lifestyle but we have a particular kink that many couples don't like, so we don't get to play as often as we like."
Hard to resist an opening like that, so I waded right in. "Well, that certainly peaks my curiosity. What is this perversion that even scares swingers away? I mean, how bad it is?"
Lindsay gave me an appraising stare, but didn't answer. Instead she asked, "Do you like to watch your wife dance with other men?"
We both turned towards the dance floor again and watched as our spouses swayed to the music. Betty's arms had moved to encircle Trevor's neck, and she was resting her head on his shoulder. Trevor's hands were clasped behind her lower back, his fingers pointing downwards and grazing the top of my wife's bum. This was how Betty and I danced and I wasn't all that pleased about how quickly our intimacy had been duplicated. But part if me liked it. And Lindsay knew it.
I tore my gaze away and looked at Lindsay. "Yes, I like to watch her dance with other men."
Lindsay smiled; it was almost predatory. "And would you like to watch her do more than dance?"
I looked back at the dance floor in time to see Trevor move his hands down to gently cup my wife's buttocks and pull her into him. Her stance widened slightly to accommodate his thigh sliding between her legs. After a few moments, almost imperceptibly, she started to grind on him, her pelvis undulating slowly, only noticeable to those paying close attention, like we were. Betty looked at me and we locked eyes for a few heartbeats. We had role played similar scenes many times and in our fantasies, I almost always just watch her without giving any clue as to how I felt, leaving the decision to her. But in the real world, this was new ground for Betty and I was surprised at how easily it happened. It was also more intimate than it sounds. The theme at the club that night was Roman slave girls and masters, so most of the guests were wearing bed sheet togas, including us. I doubt there was a pair of panties in the place, and I knew Betty wasn't wearing any. That meant my faithful wife of 17 years was grinding her bare pussy on another man's thigh. One of the things I love about Betty is she gets really wet, really fast. I knew by now there would likely be a juicy trail on Trevor's thigh.
"He's going to fuck your wife, you know that right? Unless you put a stop to it soon."
Lindsay's words didn't resonate with me. I still didn't believe Betty would ever allow that. I expected she might tease a little so we have something to talk about later, but anything more seemed highly unlikely. Still, part of me wanted to cut in on them. It was getting too real, too fast. I almost stood up, but Lindsay's soft touch on my arm stilled me.
"Don't worry, you still have time. Let them have a bit of fun. I know you're getting off on this."
Of course, she was right. I was getting erect. My toga did nothing to hide this fact and Lindsay was making a point of staring. My cock twitched and hardened under her intense scrutiny. We were sitting on swivel stools and we both turned away from the dance floor to face the bar so that my aroused state was not so obvious. Lindsay then leaned closer to me, put her hand on my thigh close enough to feel the heat of my growing erection but not quite touching it, and whispered in my ear, "He's got a much bigger cock than you."
Now, I had seen Trevor naked for much of the day. We all spent the afternoon together after meeting at the pool where everyone was au naturel as the resort called it. I recall thinking that he did not fit the typical stereotype for a black man. I'm not exactly hung at 6 inches, but Trevor in a flaccid state did not appear to be packing much more than me. I gave Lindsay a quizzical look that she interpreted correctly. "Oh, don't worry, she chuckled, "he's a grower, not a shower."
She put her hand alongside my now rigid penis, as though she was about to grasp and stroke me. "I can get both hands on Trevor's cock when's he's hard and the head still isn't covered. I wouldn't get much more than one hand on yours." She started moving her hand up and down, slowly at first, then quickening her pace as though she was jerking me off. I felt my hips move involuntarily towards her hand which was so tantalizingly close, but she moved it away, smiling.
"Look at them," she said. We both looked in the mirror behind the bar and watched the reflection of Trevor and Lindsay grinding into each other, slowly and sensuously. It wasn't overt and others on the floor were doing the same. But I knew my wife's wet, naked pussy was sliding deliciously up and down Trevor's muscular thigh. Her eyes were closed and she was lost in the moment.
"You want to masturbate, don't you? You want to stroke your cock and watch Trevor crawl between your pretty wife's legs and push his big black cock into her tight little pussy."
Lindsay wasn't asking, she was stating a fact, one which she knew with complete certainty to be true. But as much as I wanted to see that in my mind, I was no longer sure I could handle it in reality. I had to get myself back under control. I thought about baseball and dead nuns. That always did it for me on the rare occasions Betty was not in the mood. Lindsay watched in amusement as my penis shrank and I recovered the ability to think rationally.
