I hadn't planned on sharing my wife with the same man over and over, but that's how things developed ater our first experience.
I had actually tracked down two men. They lived in a city in a different state. I had used a personal ad in a local newspaper to find them. Tom was tall and slim, mid-thirties. Nick was older, shorter and stockier but trim. My wife, Carol, was in her early forties at that time. She was a little on the short side, but with a full figure. We'd had no children and she'd kept her shape. She always wanted to be a few pounds slimmer, but I enjoyed her full breasts and compact yet curvy hips, and many other men did too, judging by the many looks she attracted.
We'd already had two experiences together with Tom and Nick. Tom was happy to have access to my wife's lush body every few weeks. It was pure lust. Nick, however, understood how to play on our secret obsessions. He treated Carol with special attention to which she responded with a willingness to submit to a variety of requests. Her passive attitude fired both mine and Nick's excitement. Nick also understood my ambivalent feelings and my urge to both watch and be watched. He used this insight to heighten our excitement and he led us to do things we would not have dreamed of.
Each encounter had been different from the one before, and so it was with the third. We met in the same hotel bar as usual, but Tom didn't show up. Nick said he'd arranged it this way. After our brief greetings, Nick said he'd like to take Carol on a date, just the two of them, alone. Then he abruptly stood up and, turning to Carol, said, "I'll meet you at the front desk in 30 minutes." Then he left.
Carol watched him leave, glanced at me for a moment, then looked away. I fidgeted with a book of matches. Now what? "Well," I said after a while, "I guess you better go get yourself ready." Carol looked at me, almost sadly I thought. But she stood up and headed to the elevators. I ordered a drink. Once again, Nick had figured out what buttons to push. I was becoming excited by the idea that the two of them would go off alone. I was also jealous. The two feelings were an explosive mix.
I downed my drink quickly and went upstairs. Carol was standing in front of the mirror, brushing her hair. She had applied make-up to her eyes, and was wearing a deep red lip gloss, things she never did with me. She looked beautiful. She turned to me and smoothed the dress over her hips. It was a snug fit. The dress was navy blue and came down just above her knees. It hugged her waist and clung to her full breasts. As she looked at me, seeking my approval, I could see her nipples harden through the thin material.
I could barely swallow. I nodded my head slightly, and she turned back to the mirror. I walked up to her and stroked her back. I could feel through the material of her dress that she was without a bra. I slid my hand down to her hips. No panties. She was embarrassed, and wouldn't look at me. My feelings of jealousy and lust soared in parallel, as did my cock.
"I have to go," she said quietly. "I'm late." She turned and headed for the door. Her breasts and bottom shuddered and trembled as she walked past me. The dress clung to every curve. She was wearing high heels and nylons. I realized they were thigh-highs, as I had not felt them beneath the fabric of her dress.
Then she opened the door and was gone. I was filled with conflicting feelings. My cock throbbed as I imagined Nick seeing my wife in such revealing clothes, realizing that she's wearing nothing underneath her dress. And I was more jealous than I had ever been before. She had made herself especially beautiful for him. And she clearly wanted to be alone with him.
I went to the window and looked down. After a moment, they emerged from the front of the hotel. Nick had his arm around Carol's waist. He leaned down and kissed her on the mouth. Then they got into a cab and drove away. I considered following them for a moment but realized it was too late, and pointless anyway. My excitement depended on their being alone.
I paced in a sexual frenzy for perhaps five minutes. I couldn't wait hours for them to return. I started thinking about what I used to do as a pre-teen when I was sexually aroused but still too young to know what to do about it. When I was home alone, I would go to my bedroom and take off my clothes. With my erection bouncing stiffly in front of me, I would go downstairs. The more daring I felt, the farther I would go from my bedroom and my clothes. The risk that I might be seen just increased my state of sexual excitement. I was driven by the thought that I would be trapped, naked and erect.
I quickly undressed. My erection was throbbing. I peered through the peephole in the door into the hallway. It was empty. I opened the door a notch. I didn't dare walk out. I stood just inside the doorway, then swung the door wide open. I lifted my hands above my head and swayed my hips. I was conscious of the slight draft from the hallway on my rigid cock. I heard the elevator opened and quickly closed the door.
Then I put on my shirt, trousers and loafers, without underwear or socks. I let my shirt hang over my pants, to hide the bulge of my hard-on. I left the room and walked down the hall. I stepped into the stairwell and listened. Nothing. I walked down between two floors and waited again. Still nothing. I quickly took off my shirt, kicked off my shoes and slid down my pants. My cock stood out straight. I walked down another flight of stairs, leaving my clothes behind. I stopped between floors again and thrust my hips a few times. I was almost dizzy with excitement.
Then I thought I heard something. In a flash I raced up to my clothes, taking two steps at a time. I quickly jumped into my pants and put on my shirt. I was breathing heavily. I fumbled with my shoes, wondering what I would say if I was discovered half dressed. But there was no one. It was quiet again. I rubbed my cock through the cloth of my pants and took a deep breath.
Once I had straightened out my shirt and pants, I returned to my room. I opened the mini-bar and poured myself a beer. I drank it in one long gulp. I poured myself a second one. It was getting close to nine p.m. and I hadn't had anything to eat. The beer went quickly to my head. This served only to increase my arousal, and lower my inhibitions.
I finished the second beer, opened a third and slid it in my pocket, then left the room again. I took the elevator to the lobby and stepped out. My cock continued to throb. I walked around the lobby for a short time, feeling the material of my pants against my erection. Then I headed into the bar, sat down at a table in a dark corner and took out the bottle of beer I had in my pocket. I took another long pull. I watched a couple dancing, and wondered what Carol and Nick were doing right now. The image of Carol in that tight dress, her breasts bulging and nipples poking out, was driving me mad. I imagined her slowly peeling that dress up over her head for Nick, her breasts jiggling as they sprang free from the material.
I thrust my cock against the inside of my pants. I repeated the motion three or four more times, then gasped. I felt my cock swell, twitch once, and then I relaxed it. All my senses were focused on my pulsing cock as the semen spurted out. I could feel it running down the shaft of my erection and onto my scrotum. There was a warm dampness spreading across the front of my lap.
