I Can Only Blame Myself

I really have no one to blame but myself. It is 100% my own fault that I am currently standing on the wrong side of our locked bedroom door. My beautiful wife's sighs and moans of ecstasy clearly audible through the thin wooden door. So close and yet still so restricted from me.

She has just finished cumming for the first time tonight, that I know of, and there are no signs of her slowing down as I suffer my self appointed plight alone in the hallway. I can always tell when she orgasms. She is not a screamer by any means. It is more a low guttural moan that builds in intensity as her little toes curl and her hands clutch the bed sheets, grasping the linens and most always pulling them free from the mattress.

I love hearing that moan, causing that moan, living that moment when her face contorts in orgasmic bliss. I have witnessed it countless times. It never fails to bring a smile to my own face. Even now in my pains of jealously and loneliness I can't help but smile knowing she has once more received the pleasure she so loves and deserves.

The reason I am here, in the hallway, and she is inside behind locked entry with Seymour is twofold. It is Saturday night, normally our "Date night". Sex is pretty much a given when the weekend rolls around for us. We have maintained a pretty active sex life through the years. I am a good eight years her senior, and I will admit that she of late has been more amorous and wanting then myself, but more on that in a minute.

A little background, Carrie is 43 and in her sexual prime, I must attest. We have been married now for 19 years and well, I am proud to say we still knock it out 2 or 3 times every week. She is a beautiful little spinner of a lady. 5"4" and just tipping the scale at 102 pounds. She maintains her small frame with regiments of tennis and yoga. Her natural 34b breasts are magnificent on her lithe frame. Her nipples never fail to perk and harden at the slightest touch or cool breeze. I can see them in my minds eye as I listen to our marital bed gently shake, and her sighs bellow up through the slight opening at the bottom of the doorway.

Me, they call me LP. I like to say that it stands for "Long Play", a reference to record albums that not only shows my age but also my affinity to exaggerate somewhat. In honesty I am what you would call average in looks, endowment and in sexual prowess. 6 feet even in height, 195 pounds (when I maintain my diet), a 6 inch penis and a sexual lasting period of about 15 minutes under the sheets.

Now Carrie had never complained. She was always more than happy with all of my attributes before I went and decided our "bedroom time" needed a little spicing up early last year. When we married 19 years ago she was an innocent young girl of 24. Well not entirely innocent. She had partaken in the obligatory "Prom Sex" when she was 19. The not so fun or famous loss of her virginity to her high school boyfriend. It was neither long lasting nor enjoyable and they broke up shortly after without ever reliving that botched attempt at amore.

Other than that she had experienced only one other boyfriend that managed to conquer her sexual barriers before we met. This one lasted a year and a half and their sexlife was normal but less than fantastic. He was neither well endowed nor knowledgeable in the lovemaking department. Carrie tells me she didn't know what an orgasm was until she met me. Had never partaken in the fine art of oral sex, well she had been a giver just never a receiver. Her very first orgasm came when we had been dating a short time and I willed my way down between her legs and kissed, tongued and ravaged her little clit into bliss for the very first time of her life. To this day she tells me that is the day she knew she was going to marry me.

That was the first time I heard that sweet guttural moan, the one she has just let loose for a second time tonight. I cringe in pain and delight as she cums behind locked door with Seymour her "lover" for this evening. She had been brought up in a strict religious background. Hence her lack of sexual knowledge and experience. She had to be taught to masturbate, which I more than enjoyed teaching her, but that is a story for another time.

So here I stand alone in my torment. My hard cock straining and posting a tent in the front of the sweatpants I am wearing as I listen to Carrie and Seymour continuing their time together without me. As I said it is my own doing that keeps me on this side of the gateway. I am usually allowed to watch and sometimes help when she has Seymour in her bed with her. She will let me sit patiently and watch her pleasure or allow me to tickle and lightly pinch her very sensitive nipples as Seymour plunges in and out of her sweet treasure spot.

I am the one that introduced her to her current lover in the first place. Never satisfied I was the one that talked her into laying with Seymour so she could experience what a real alpha male could do for her. Seymour is a full and true 8 inches in length and he puts me to shame in girth. Easily double my circumference that leaves Carrie stretched out and fully satisfied every time they get together.

That is one of the reasons I am not the one pleasuring her tonight, on this our normal date night. The other and even more condemning reason is my own lack of enthusiasm. It's not that Carrie didn't ask me to join her in the first place. It was more the fact that we went out last night, something we usually don't do on Friday evenings. That is usually our night to relax and wind down from our hectic workweek.

Last night however, some friends were having a little get together that we both wanted to attend. I drank a little too much beer while Carrie sipped just the right amount of vino. When we got home she was quite in the mood, I was quite intoxicated. Now I didn't forsake the young lass, I would never stoop that low. I did however not give my best effort. A quick bump and hump and I was done all too early for the evening. Looking back now I am surprised she didn't put a call out for Seymour there and then to finish the job.

As she again moans out inside the closed room, my cock strains for release. I can tell her body is close for the third time. As I related earlier, I taught Carrie how to pleasure herself, she in her own way taught me how not to do the same for myself. Not that she has ever told or even requested me not to pleasure myself. It's more the fact that I can't match her magic hands and no longer have the desire to try. She never fails to make me hard, even as I advance into my 50's one touch of her small soft hands, one glance of her bare breasts or butt, one sly smile that tells me she is in the mood and my manhood stands to attention.

But not tonight! She offered, my favorite team was preparing to take the field. I hemmed and hawed and told her to give me a couple hours to watch the boys march to victory and then I would rock her world. My sub par performance last night and my reluctance to make up for it when she was ready left her more then perturbed. Hence her summoning of Seymour. Hence the locked door. Hence my raging hard-on as she soils the sheets of our conjugal bed without me.

Now in the front room my hero's are on the wrong end of a lopsided score. I hear the soft drone of their fourth quarter drubbing winding down as Carrie again begins her long, low spiral into three-time bliss. Her cries of passion and pleasure drowning out the audio from the television I have abandoned in the other room. Its almost as if she is putting on a show for Seymour and myself with her exaggerated cries of desire. Or maybe it is because Seymour can touch her in places I can only dream of reaching.

She is louder and more fervent then she ever is with me. Pangs of jealousy ripple through my stomach. My balls have tightened and are aching in want and need. Her climatic moan has begun and I know she is nearing that special moment again. I have, on occasion, brought her to a third orgasm, albeit with my tongue. I know she will be exhausted and ready to retire when her toes uncurl for this third time tonight.

Unlike the refined lady that she routinely is she lets out a primal scream at the end of her normal moan, and she has not consumed all of her wanton passion as yet. The bed still rocks as she seemingly awaits her stud's completion, not yet content with her own all-inclusive ravishment.

My dick throbs in my hand as I eavesdrop. Yet still I can't bring myself to the act of self relief, in the hope that she will have pity on me and allow me to follow Seymour with my own less intense encore performance.

Finally she lets out a long, deep sigh, I hear a rustling from the bed as she makes her way to the door and unlocks it. She opens it only an inch as she moves back to the now empty bed. Bending provocatively at the waist to retrieve her discarded robe from the floor. Her legs spread, she lewdly makes a spectacle of her well-stretched hole as she picks the thin robe from the floor. She is showing me just how hard she has been used and how wet her consumed pussy is. "Rode hard and put away wet!" I believe is the jockey's term.

The musky smell of combined sweat and sexual fluids fills the room and my nostrils as I slowly enter and look to her with lust and desire in my eyes. She tells me she hopes I enjoyed my game because she has thoroughly enjoyed her playtime. The robe only a prop to get my attention as she lays back on the wet-stained sheets once more spread and remaining naked for my viewing. Her pussy, which I hastily declined just more than an hour earlier on full display. Inside and out, its red, swollen folds showing just how well fucked the love of my life was.

She points to the adjacent bathroom and tells me her lover is waiting to be cleaned up. I cringe at the thought, and at the actuality that I must leave her naked presence and do her bidding if I hold any hope of gratification tonight.

I enter the bathroom and there is Seymour in all his glory. An hour inside my wife and remaining as large and firm as when he made his entrance. His length glistening of Carrie's cum. I am tempted to lick Seymour clean if not for my homophobic tendencies. Instead I place him under the faucet and soap and wash the remains of my wife from his length. I pat Seymour dry and sprinkle cornstarch along his length and sac. It keeps Seymour from chafing Carrie tells me. I gently put Seymour back into his satin sheath and return him to his place under the bathroom sink until she is again in need of his servicing. I vow next time he is in her that I will be at her side, encouraging and helping her along to achieve that same degree of ecstasy she is now recovering from.

Carrie is fast asleep when I return. Still naked, still stretched wide open and gaping. A look of total contentment on her face as she slumbers. I kiss her and take my place next to her my cock still hard. I pray she will wake during the night and remember and forgive me. She is my loving wife.