My name is Cane, and I want to tell you a story about my wife. I met Stella six years ago and was immediately captivated by her. With her long, strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes, I don't think that I'd ever met a more attractive woman. Her facial beauty was complimented by a stunningly perfect figure; flat, tight stomach kept that way by her interest in sports, long slender legs leading to pretty, dainty feet and a nice pert bottom. Her breasts were to die for; firm, perfectly formed globes with pink nipples that just cried out to be touched! It was love and lust at first sight, and we were married a year later.
To start with, our sex life was ok, if a little infrequent, but over the years it has steadily declined to a situation where I now have to almost beg her to have sex. As you can imagine this has frustrated me immensely and caused many fights between us. It has got to the stage recently, where I was convinced that my wife was having an affair. I have a close work colleague, John, and I have spoken to him on many occasions concerning my misgivings. John is what people used to refer to as a ladies man'. Originally from Africa, he stands over six feet in height and has a captivating charm. He always seems to have a new woman on his arm and the parties he holds at his beach front house are notorious around the office.
After a particular discussion with John, I found myself following Stella around to try and catch her with her lover. The more I followed her, the more a strange feeling came over me. Part of me was angry, but another, stronger part of me was beginning to feel excited about catching her with another man. This thought was beginning to turn me on!
After a couple of weeks without finding anything wrong or Stella doing anything untoward, I slowly began to realise that the affair had been all in my imagination, and our relationship returned to its usual state. The trouble was, that although she wasn't having an affair, my feelings of excitement when I thought that she was, did not go away. In fact they grew stronger. The more I thought about them, the more I became desperate to catch her in the arms of another. If the situation was not going to materialise naturally, then my mind turned to thoughts of how I could create the situation myself. I needed a man I could trust and who would be attractive to my wife. The choice was obvious; John!
After a long discussion with John in a bar one night, we hatched a plan. John was all for the idea, as long as I was sure that it was what I wanted. He said that he found Stella most attractive and would enjoy making love to her. We were to be invited to his next party at his beach house. It would take place there and John gave me his virtual guarantee that I would see my wife fucked by another man, as long as I obeyed the rules; I could watch, but I was not to interfere in any way whatsoever. I readily agreed, and the date was set for the following Saturday.
After some persuasion, Stella had reluctantly agreed to go to the party. I told her that some important clients would be there and that it may help my career to make a few contacts. The Saturday arrived and Stella descended the stairs after taking two hours to get ready. It had been worth the wait. She virtually glided down the staircase, a jet black sleeveless dress clinging to her perfect thighs. She commented briefly on the fact that I seemed a little agitated, perhaps nervous. I agreed, and put this down to the fact that useful business contacts would be at the party, and mentally praised myself for my quick thinking. Stella seemed to accept this plausible explanation and we left the house for the hour long drive to the beach.
The party was in full swing as we arrived. John greeted us both at the door and in a display of old-fashioned courtesy, kissed Stella's hand. As he bowed his lips to her small hand, he looked into her face and caught her eyes with a steely stare. It was amazing. I could almost feel the electricity between them, as Stella seemed unable to break away from his gaze. The party progressed well and John kept both Stella and I well stocked with delicious cocktails. I could tell that they were quite strong, but Stella, who hardly drank at all, was enjoying the fruit flavour without appreciating the strength and was knocking back glass after glass. John never seemed to miss an opportunity to drag my wife onto the dance floor, and after several close dances, Stella seemed to become less and less concerned about his hands on her pert little ass! As the evening wore on, Stella was obviously becoming more and more intoxicated. I hoped that John would make his move soon before she collapsed in a drunken heap!
Stella and I were talking quietly in a corner, as I saw John approach us.
"Stella" he said in a soft, matter-of-fact voice. "I understand that you like sports. I have a full squash court in the basement. Would you care to take a tour with me?"
Again his eyes looked deeply into hers, almost challenging her to refuse his invitation. As Stella nodded her agreement and took his arm, John threw a quick look over his shoulder at me. I knew that this was it. I knew that I was to follow, but at a safe distance. They were several feet in front of me as they descended the stairs to a huge basement. John flicked a light switch and a full-size squash court became immediately visible. Quickly, so as not to be seen, I ducked behind the dark glass of the court's back wall, as John led my wife out onto the playing area. I quickly became aware that the glass was in fact a two way mirror, and that I could see through it to the court, but that neither of them could see me. I heard their voices clearly and realised that John must have set up a microphone inside the court.
"You know, I'm not really dressed for a game of squash!" I heard Stella comment.
John wasted no time and circled his arms around her slim waist.
"It's not squash that I had a mind to play, tonight. You look so attractive in that dress, I've been watching you all night."
"I know you have!" she giggled. "I could feel you hands on my butt every time we danced! But we can't do this. I'm married and Cane is only just upstairs."
She made a half hearted attempt to push him away, but John was not to be denied. Lowering his face to hers he kissed he deeply. I could see her trying to push him away with her hands, but her lips betrayed her as she parted them and allowed John's tongue to enter her mouth and dance lightly over her teeth.
"No John. We mustn't do this....mmmmmm oh you taste nice!.....No..please" she murmured as they kissed.
John was not about to take this feeble denial seriously. All three of us knew that she would capitulate to his advances eventually. Still kissing her deeply, John backed my wife the short distance to the side wall.
