When I first asked my wife, Sheila If I could watch her with another man, I thought that I had been clever. The question had been praying on my mind for ages and, even though it had taken me ages to summon up the courage to ask her, I still had to phrase the question in the form of a joke. Sheila had taken the "joke" well, when she thought it was just that, but as I kept referring to that conversation over the ensuing days and weeks, I think she finally caught on that it was asked much more than in jest.
Sheila and I had only been married for a few months when I realised that I was never going to be able to satisfy her by myself. She is a powerfully minded person who knows what she wants - and usually gets it! In her stockinged feet she stands nearly six feet tall with beautiful full breasts and flame red hair that falls in curls down her back. She has a voracious sexual appetite and a temper to match. Our sex life had always been good, as far as I was concerned, but recently I have seen that look in her eyes that told me that perhaps I wasn't doing enough for her in bed. As much as I tried to vary our lovemaking, I kept seeing that look. I had to think of something or I was sure I was going to lose her.
The idea of introducing another man to our bedroom did not come that hard to me. From an early age I had been interested in voyeurism. When I fist hit puberty, I discovered that just looking at the neighbourhood girls in their light summer dresses was enough to give me an erection, but it wasn't until the following year, when I accidentally noticed my older sister and her boyfriend, that I realised that "watching" was nearly as good as "doing"!
The first time I saw my sister and her boyfriend together was a complete accident. I had come home from school unexpectedly at lunchtime to fetch a book I had forgotten that morning. I was slightly surprised to see the front curtains drawn, but thought little more about it as I let myself in the back door and walked into the kitchen. As I picked up the forgotten book from the counter I heard strange sounds coming from the lounge. I crept silently towards the source of the noise and peeked through the crack in the door. What I saw gave me an instant hard-on. Sister's boyfriend was sitting in my Dad's favourite armchair with his jeans and underwear around his ankles and the largest cock I had ever seen sticking up in front of him. My sister, Mel, was kneeling between his thighs and preparing to take his tool into her mouth. I couldn't help myself and quickly whipped my own cock out and began to slowly masturbate as I watched in awe. Neither Mel's boyfriend or I lasted very long on that occasion and we almost came together; my own cum splashing onto the hall carpet as Mel's face took the full force of her boyfriend's ejaculation. After that episode, I tried to find every possible opportunity that I could to watch them in action. I was never caught, but the danger of discovery seemed to add to the excitement.
Anyway, the years rolled on and, as I began to enjoy my own sexual encounters, I thought that I had probably outgrown my voyeurism. I put it down to just a phase that I went through whilst growing up. It wasn't until my recent problems with Sheila, that those forgotten thoughts began to materialise in my head again. The more I though about the idea, the less I could think about anything else. Every day for weeks I reminded my wife of the "joke" until, I think, the truth finally sank in.
"You weren't kidding, were you?" Sheila asked out of the blue one night. We had just finished dinner and the question took me a little by surprise.
"Hmm? What was that, honey?" I mumbled from behind the crossword.
"You weren't kidding. About watching me with another man, I mean." Suddenly I could not even read the crossword clues. She had my full attention. My heart missed a beat as I realised that I might finally have got through with my not so subtle hints. The words stuck in my throat as I just stared at her, open mouthed.
