A frequent fantasy of mine lately is about my partner's gratification.
In my vision, my partner, someone whom I trust and who trusts me, has cautiously confessed a desire to surrender to mindless, anonymous sexual abandon, and in return I have confessed a desire to facilitate and share her, and with her, in that moment.
We pick a warm, discrete, outdoor location with public access, where we set up a single sturdy lawn chair in the shade, we disrobe, and I lay out on the chair while she joins me, resting her back against my chest.
We giggle with nerves at first, and to calm us both down I begin by gently massaging her shoulders, her torso, thighs, breasts, pinching a nipple now and then, while we settle in to wait for someone to see us. Anyone. Absolutely anyone at all.
As time goes by my exploration of her body, with which I am intimately familiar, gives way to her own self pleasuring.
We are not alone for long. Just as we start to wonder if this is going to work as intended a strange man appears. She starts at the sight of him, but modesty gives way to exhibitionism. They make eye contact. He looks at me, getting a sense of the situation, and approaches. We say nothing, but I give him the slightest nod, and he takes the hint. My partner's hands are wandering all over her body, massaging herself as demurely as she can while trying to contain the ravenous inner slut that will soon make its first public debut. I sense her nerves and, reaching down to her pussy, I lightly tease her mound, then gently spread her labia open in offering. Now there is no mistaking our intention, and our visitor's curiosity gives way to obvious hunger. In an instant his polo shirt goes over his head, and his belt and shorts land in a heap around his ankles. I cannot see my partner's eyes but her approval is reflected in the lust our visitor shows.
My hands take a break from their massage to caress my partner's face. Her head is to the left of mine and I take a moment to caress her face and stroke her long hair, moving it over her left shoulder. I nibble on her ear. I bite her earlobe gently. My hands find her thighs and firmly pull them as far open as our position will allow, and I continue to play with her labia. While I have been doing all this, taking in her heat, her transformation, her abandon, her gaze has been fixed on our visitor, who has been artfully playing with the bulge in his briefs and her breathing is getting heavy.