My name is Shelly, and I love giving my husband a hard-on. It is one of my joys in life. I guess I'm a bit of a control freak. And the ability to make my husband's cock swell is certainly control! Don't get me wrong, I like sex too. But the foreplay leading up to it, really making my husband yearn for it, is a thrill. Even talking about it makes my heart race and my juices flow. I guess I'm a bit of a tease as well, but only with my husband. I have never strayed, nor ever plan to.
And I'm really good at it, and enjoy being good at it. There are so many ways I do it, and my husband is an easy play. So much easily excites him. The way I seductively kiss him, or allow my breasts to just graze him in passing. Or by the provocative outfits I wear, and how I do my hair, nails, and makeup. Even a seductive look or whisper tends to get his engine going. And then there are the high heels. Lots of high heels. I don't know how many I own! But they are a huge weapon in my arsenal. I have perfected a walk that highlights the sway of my hips, causes the cheeks of my bubble butt to contract violently, and my large breasts to bounce perfectly.
My husband is truly the joy of my life. I love him so much. He is a great man and a great leader. I have such a fulfilled, loving, committed marriage.
After saving for years, my husband finally fulfilled his promise to me. A year overseas living in a Mediterranean villa. We selected a fairly secluded property, not too far from a large European city. When we arrived, I could not have been more pleased. The place was large and immaculate. While marble floors with bright walls and ceilings. The entire place had the typical bright white Mediterranean look, with high ceilings and flowing white cascading silk drapes. I was in heaven. I could just picture myself striding around, my high heels clicking on the hard marble, my tanned complexion contrasting against the white backdrop.
There was just one major oversight. The villa had also been rented by another person. A young man, much younger than my husband and I. Pablo was cute and seemed nice, probably Brazilian. We were all a bit confused by the mixup. Pablo arrived a week ago to receive some special treatment only offered at the local hospital. He had chosen the villa for the healthy fresh air, and the nearby bus stop that could take him to the hospital.
We called our booking company, and they were no help. We certainly didn't want to kick out this young man to the curb. But I REALLY liked the villa and wanted to stay. My husband and I talked, and since it sounded like Pablo's stay may not last very long, we all agreed to make the best of it. With the mild Mediterranean climate, the villa was full of open spaces. It would be easy to stay out of each other's way. We each took a master suite on opposite ends of the main house. In between the rooms was an expansive living area, containing a large chef's kitchen, and multiple living and dining spaces.
Still, I had some reservations.
"There's not a lot of privacy, sharing that main area with Pablo," I complained to my husband later that night.
"Oh don't worry, honey. There's plenty of space in this villa. Let's make the best of it."
My husband found a bit of an office nook in our master bedroom where he planned to spend much of his day, working his job remotely. But I was still a bit disappointed with the situation. I had been dreaming about our stay for years. I had slowly been buying new provocative outfits just for our Mediterranean stay. Yet with my husband hiding in our master suite, and Pablo often hanging around the main area, how was I going to tease my husband?
It took some adjustments, but I slowly found how to make it work. With Pablo around, I kept to my most reserved outfits. I often wore a loose wrap that I could leave open in our master suite, but close the material around me when I went into the main area. With my husband focused on his computer screen, my weapons of arousal were limited. Still, I found that I could lean over his shoulder, pressing my chest against his back, whispering suggestive remarks in his ear. Just when he began to notice me, and I began to notice his crotch beginning to bulge, the tease in me would walk away.
Pablo was a very nice young man. His thick Portuguese accent was so fun to listen to. I found myself finding excuses to chat with him. He was so comfortable to be with. I was so glad that our shared housing situation was working. In fact, Pablo was a bit of a gift. I had not realized how easily bored I could become without the regular distractions I had back home.
I was not disappointed to occasionally catch Pablo eye's following my supple figure. While I am fully faithful to my husband, what woman isn't pleased when another man notices them? I made sure to cover myself appropriately around Pablo, though my wrap could only hide so much. I still fixed up my long wavy hair as always, applying makeup and doing my nails as if I was a celebrity. I was still on vacation, afterall! Eventually, I missed the feel of those high heels on my feet. So I tossed my flip flops aside, and finally enjoyed the sound of them clicking on the marble.
This certainly made it easy for Pablo to find me. Wherever I walked, I was announcing my presence. I chuckled to myself, at Pablo's behavior. He was expertly finding a way to always be around me, positioning himself for a good view. He was a man after all, I reflected. No harm in that. And I had become quite comfortable around him anyway. Sometimes we would drink coffee or share a glass of wine, seated opposite each other at our kitchen nook or one of the outside patios.
One afternoon, while my husband and I were preparing dinner, Pablo returned from one of his treatments at the hospital and joined us. I could tell there was something on his mind. He seemed almost depressed. After we cleared the table, Pablo broke his silence.
"I need to tell you all something. It is a bit embarrassing." He paused to catch his breath.
"I am so grateful for letting me stay here. I think there is something you should know," he continued.
My husband and I leaned forward in our seats, giving our support to Pablo. We both liked him and cared for him. Often my husband would recreate with Pablo outside in the evenings. Their friendship seemed as comfortable as mine was with him.
Pablo continued, "I have cancer. Testicular cancer."
My husband and I gasped, offering our condolences. What a surprise to learn that a deadly disease lived inside such a strong, healthy young man.
"I have tried all of the treatments. None of them have worked. I am here because this hospital is doing a trial treatment on me. It is my last hope."
Pablo nervously swallowed. There was obviously more to tell.
"The trial treatment requires me to ejaculate my sperm daily. This will cleanse my testicles. This can be a difficult thing for me because of their instructions. I cannot masterbate. I cannot watch porn. Those methods would taint the cleansing."
We tried to mask our looks of surprise and confusion.
"You happened to arrive at just the right time. With no girlfriend to help me ejaculate naturally, I was losing hope that I could continue my treatment."
This was getting a bit awkward. What was he getting at?
"The medication I am on makes it easier to reach a climax." Pablo looked at my husband. "I have been watching your wife, and climaxing in my pants." Pablo immediately looked down in shame.
My husband and I glanced at each other. Without any special treatment medication, my husband had always struggled with any kind of sexual endurance. Ejaculating in his pants had occurred to him on more than one occasion. I expected him to answer Pablo with understanding and kindness.
"Pablo, look at me," my husband said. "There is no need to feel shame. Thank you for being honest with me. That shows real maturity and character. We trust you."
My husband continued to take the lead. "Why don't you let me and my wife talk about this privately, and we will see you tomorrow." With that, Pablo got up and walked to his room.
