This is the final part of the story about my wife Maggie and our close friend, Phil; and I hope that those of you who share this particular sexual variation will enjoy it. I'm sorry for the delay but various work commitments have taken up a lot of my time lately.
No doubt the usual 'Anonymouses of USA' and their kind will record their habitual displeasure at other people' pleasure but then I suppose that's just part of their insecurity. In any event, I have learnt to become indifferent to their excitable malevolency and now just find such vehemence vaguely amusing.
Constructive criticism however, whether anonymous or otherwise, is a different thing altogether and I welcome it - simply because I'm not a perfect writer and other peoples' constructive remarks are helpful to me.
I believe the aim of this site is to provide a forum to those of us who enjoy a variety of different sexual activities.
Obviously, 'one person's meat may be another person's poison' so to speak. However, I believe we should all be tolerant of those whose choices may be different from our own - after all, nobody forced these anonymous diehards to access a site which is so open about its function and certainly nobody forced them to read any of the submissions it contains.
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Phil and I came home for coffee one afternoon, having first had a few drinks and then enjoying lunch together. We were in my living room talking about everything from earwigs to train wheels - and quite a lot of our chat revolved around an earlier conversation in the restaurant, when we'd been discussing the physical attractions of my pretty wife Maggie.
Coincidently, the much admired subject of our discussion came home shortly afterwards, having lunched with her mother. I think all of us were a little worse for wear - Phil and I somewhat more so than Maggie - but none of us completely with it.
I went to get my wife a cup of sober-up coffee and it wasn't until I came back into the room that I became aware the hi-fi had been put on and was playing quietly in the background. Not only was there music playing but the curtains had been drawn on all three walls, thus shutting the room off from both our garden and the private lane leading down the side of our house. I said nothing but felt an inexplicable sexual thrill at the conversion of our sitting room into a private cocoon in the middle of a summer's afternoon.
Phil was just settling back into a deep armchair with a smug look on his face, so I assumed he had been the one to close the room off to the outside. He sat with his back to the window and lowering myself down onto the sofa facing him, I was about to say something truly fatuous, when Maggie quietly rose from her seat with a slight smile and began slowly dancing in front of us. Although she was acting drunk and had obviously had quite a lot of alcohol during her lunchtime, it was clear to me that she was nowhere near as inebriated as she made out.
The music was quite low but it nonetheless seemed to get her going. As she danced in time with the slow beat, she gyrated wantonly, a half smile growing on her face as she jokingly thrust her chest out each time she turned towards either of us. Once when dancing around to face Phil, her elbow movements indicated that she was smoothing her hands down over the front of her thin white top. She pressed her breasts flat against her chest and then spread her hands down across her tummy - ever downwards, until I could sense her fingers meeting at her crotch. She turned to face me and winked suggestively as she gently pushed her hand against the front of the cheongsam she was wearing, and then slowly rotated it, massaging her pussy.
Beyond her Phil couldn't take his eyes away from her body and there was a slowly growing bulge in the front of his trousers. He reached down to touch it - surreptitiously at first and then with growing lack of caution, as his fingertips brushed softly over the front of his crotch. He didn't stop when Maggie turned back to face him and didn't appear in the least concerned that she might see what he was doing.
'Go on Maggie ....' he said suddenly with unexpected boldness, instantly flushing up as he tried to make a joke of it, 'Get your top off!'
Then escalating his thoughts, he went on, 'Dare you to get everything off!'
Maggie smilingly pouted at him and shook her head, blowing him a kiss - and turned back toward me.
I knew he'd seen a whole series of nude photos of her some while before; and the thought that he'd already enjoyed the sight of my randy little wife's naked body only added to my mood. I also knew Maggie was aware that he'd seen them and that he must therefore have been wholly familiar with every inch of her nakedness. On top of that, I recalled the vision of what had nearly happened one evening last year and it all suddenly got to me. I began to shake slightly and felt a hard coming on. This was no longer just some innocent mucking about.
With her back towards me I could see Maggie's elbows now moving again as she started to undo her shirt buttons in front of Phil.
I was already getting out of my chair (again uncertain and perhaps still half intending to stop her going further); but when she turned around again, I saw that only three buttons had been undone - low enough to tantalise but not low enough to expose anything significant to Phil. Nonetheless, when she turned fully towards me I noticed that her breasts were swelling deliciously white from an amazingly inadequate black bra; and also how sexily they contrasted with the tan outside her bikini line.
I looked at Phil. His eyes were glued to her swaying hips, occasionally looking upwards, as if hoping for another look at her cleavage whenever she turned around to face him again.
The music was near the end of the record and we told her to put on something more appropriate when it finished - Phil asked if we'd got 'The Stripper'.
'We really want you to get all your clothes off' he said unnecessarily; and now I enthusiastically agreed,
'Yeah, go on darling, I dare her .... do what he says .... take 'em all off! Or if you're not prepared to do that, at least you could dance topless for us!
Encouraged by my support, Phil implored her with his eyes to strip. This time she was the one to flush up and her response was to turn around, undo another shirt button and pout at me challengingly. She was being amazingly provocative now and I saw the edge of a nipple sticking out when one of her fingers pulled down the front of her bra. I was just about to say something about it, when the record finished and she turned away from us to change it behind my sofa
As she did so, Phil got up from his chair and held out an open wallet towards me. With a sudden thrill I noticed a picture of my wife slotted into the clear identity window, completely nude.
It was a copy of one of the pictures I had taken some while before and I realised he must have developed a set of his own prints. The photo was placed in such a prominent position in his wallet that he would have had to be very careful whenever he opened it, lest anyone standing nearby could have seen her image -- perhaps he didn't hide it though, and perhaps he'd 'inadvertently' let many others see her beautiful nakedness.
The thought was exciting and my hand went straight down to grip my cock; but as soon as he noticed the movement, Phil whipped the photo away with a smirk. Sitting down again, he put the wallet firmly back in his pocket, then smiled knowingly at me - fully aware of what he'd done to my libido. It was the last straw of my resistance gone. The music started again and Maggie turned back towards us. I told her again to get her top off; still jokingly but this time with an undertone of determination.
She grinned at me with her head on one side; and just for a moment, I thought she might actually comply; but then she sat down on the floor behind me, where she was mostly hidden from Phil by the furniture. I looked over the back of my sofa just in time to see her hands reach up under her shirt. She pulled her bra' straps off her shoulders and with that clever way women have, took it off underneath the shirt and drew it out through one sleeve without exposing anything.
But through the thinness of her shirt the dark outline of her nipples could be seen pressing against the white material and I encouraged her with my eyes to take more off; but she wouldn't. I had surreptitiously beckoned behind me for Phil to come over and watch; but by the time he did so, she had already got up, her breasts jiggling under the material of her top. They were so obviously un-fettered and looked oh, so sexily swaying beneath the thin cotton.
She danced round from behind the sofa and started to undo the remaining buttons. Facing towards me, she pulled the shirt wide apart and flashed me. Her breasts stood out white against her tan and looked gorgeous. Her nipples were huge, puckered and dark with excitement. I told her to dance in front of Phil so he could see as well; but just as she turned around, she closed the shirt together with crossed hands and just pouted sexily in front of him, swaying her hips in time with the music.
It was too much for me. I closed my eyes and had a mental vision of what she would look like partially dressed, her shirt stripped off and her panties showing through the long front split of that cheongsam. The thought of Phil seeing her topless like that was almost too much; but when I looked at her again as she started dancing, she had done up all the buttons until there was no more cleavage showing. I lunged towards her, grabbing an arm and pulling her down on to my knee.
'I've had enough of all this;' I said laughingly, pinning her under one arm. 'Come over here Phil. I'll hold her down - you get her shirt off'.
I was amazed by my words but the excitement was taking over.
As I reached down to immobilise her arms by her side, I sensed a lack of positive resistance to my restraint; and although she did make a show of struggling to escape, I think she was too excited to make more than a token effort.
'For heaven's sake don't Peter - oh you rotten sod -- no. You can't do this to me!'