Chapter 2: The Next Phase
This story is the continuation of the series that began with No Turning Back and ended with Pool Party Ch. 02. That represented the first phase of the relationship my wife and I developed with Nick, a person who came to dominate our lives for a number of months a few years ago. For those readers who are turned off by passive husbands and slutty wives, I suggest you stop reading here. For the rest, I'm happy to hear your feedback about these events, retold more or less as they took place.
After three months of watching my wife with other men, Carol and I tried to break free of our new obsession and return to a time when we led normal lives. We were both shaken by the power of our new feelings and we were scared. What kind of life would we have if we kept going like this?
Our trip had started after I had "confessed" to Carol a fantasy of mine to see her undressing for, and then being handled by, a group of men. I had no idea that my confession would unlock unspoken desires that had lain hidden for the 15 years of our marriage, and probably much longer. It would eventually come to take over our lives.
We had an intense sexual experience after I described my fantasy to her. Such extreme arousal was foreign to us. We had led sheltered, conservative, even repressed lives up until then. But once we had tasted that lust, we couldn't really focus on anything else anymore. It was as though we had discovered a powerful drug and were helpless to resist it.
Eventually I forced the issue, thinking a taste of reality might not be to our liking. I organized a weekend in a different city during which I invited two men, found through the personals section of the local newspaper, to make love to my wife while I watched. But this only served to fire our lust even more. We repeated the experience. A vicious circle had begun.
The men involved were happy just to have access to my wife's voluptuous body. They say god things come in small packages. A little shorter than average, she had large round breasts and a tightly packed, bulging bum. She had relatively broad shoulders, a narrow waist and solid thighs, all without fat, flab or sag. But she had always been intimidated by the hungry looks her figure so often attracted and tried to dress to hide her curves. Thus, the shame of being undressed before strangers fought with the arousal that she felt when she saw the effect she had on them. This was part of the kick for her in our new adventure.
However, we began to develop a special relationship with one of the men involved, Nick. He understood that we were not just a middle-aged couple out looking to add a little spice to our sex lives, but that we were uncontrollably driven by hidden urges. Mine was to play the passive role of voyeur, hidden in the shadows, watching my wife share physical intimacies with other men that she had never shared with me. Then, when my arousal reached its peak, I would emerge before my wife and her lovers and show myself to them at the moment of my own sexual climax.
My wife's hidden urges were linked in some paradoxical way to my passivity. While she wanted to be controlled - she said once that Nick freed her to simply turn herself over to her desires - giving herself to someone else while I watched was perhaps a way for her to control me, too.
Nick understood all this and used that knowledge to manipulate us into situations that mixed jealousy, arousal and, eventually, fear. It was an intoxicating brew that we could not resist. And, to be honest, we were not interested in resisting.
Only once did we try. Nick had invited us to his summer home. One evening he asked some friends over and had my wife model a tight black dress for them around the swimming pool. As I said, Carol had always been self-conscious about her full figure. I saw the insecurity and shame in her eyes as Nick asked her to model the revealing dress. I was sitting off to one side, alone. It wasn't long before Carol's flushed face and swaying hips revealed her arousal. Eventually, one of the men led my wife into Nick's house. She gave me a strange look as she walked past me. Was it regret?
One by one, Nick's friends went inside and made love to her. I sat beside the pool, my erection straining as I listened to their quiet moans. My conscience pleaded for me to end it. Afterwards, I broke off our stay with Nick and took Carol home.
A few days later, shortly before we went to bed, Carol came to me in the study, where I was reading. She sat down on a small sofa. The yellow light from a nearby lamp cast a soft glow on her face. She said nothing at first, just looked down at her hands.
After a few minutes, she looked up at me. "Jack, I want to see Nick again." She reached up and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. Her gaze was steady and calm.
I looked at her without speaking. The day after we returned from Nick's summer place I realized that we would not be able to simply stop our journey. I couldn't control the images of my wife undressing for a group of strangers, the passion with which she kissed her lovers, the intimacy of the sexual acts that she shared with others but not with me. I knew my wife was struggling with images of her own.
"Tell me what happened at Nick's the other night," I said finally. "What did you do for those three men? Tell me how it felt." I closed my book and lay it on a small table beside my armchair.
She looked at me for a moment, then took a deep breath.
"The first one, he said his name was Ron," she said. "He was a bit older, with gray hair." I remembered him.
"He took me into the bedroom," she said. "He kissed me softly on the neck and said he thought I was beautiful. He said he had really enjoyed watching me walk around the pool in that dress. 'Poetry in motion,' or something corny like that he said. But I liked hearing it.
"Then he took my hand and put it on the front of his pants," she said. "I could feel his cock. It was hard." Carol lifted her feet up onto the sofa, so that her knees were under her chin. As she spoke, she was looking at a painting on the wall across the room.
"Then he asked me if I would walk around the bedroom like that, for him. 'Just for me,' he said. He sat down on the bed. So I did what I'd done at the pool. I just let go. It was a good feeling, knowing that I was making him hard. He wanted to see me, to touch me. I could feel his eyes on me, like he was feeling me from a distance. It made me tingle. I could feel my nipples tighten.
"I walked back and forth a few times. There wasn't a lot of room. Then I undid my dress and slid it off. He hadn't asked me to do that, but I wanted to. I wanted him to see me. I walked around in my bra and panties for a few minutes. It made me wet.
"Then he stood up and got undressed. When he took his underwear off, his cock jumped out. It was so hard. He sat back down on the bed to watch me some more. His hard-on reached up to his stomach. I walked up to him and slowly undid my bra. I let it drop on his lap. Then I bent down and picked it up, pulling it so that one of the straps wrapped around his erection. His cock was so stiff, it kind of snapped straight up when I pulled the strap free.
"He told me to keep walking around the room. He was watching me the whole time very carefully, looking at my breasts and my thighs. He hardly ever looked at my face. I slid my panties down slowly as I walked. I pushed them down an inch or so with every step. When they were about halfway down my thighs, I just left them there and kept walking around. He seemed to like that because he started to stroke his cock." She smiled, still looking at the wall. "He reminded me of you. He was a watcher.
"Then I pushed my panties down to my knees," she went on, " and they just fell to the floor and I kicked them aside. I walked back over to him but he said I should keep walking around. He said my body looked great when I moved."
