My wife, Priya, has always been a slut at heart. She plays 'Ms. Goodie Two Shoes' when I talk about threesomes and swinging, claiming that she's not ready or that it's all too complicated, but recently, I've discovered that's a load of horse shit. And truth be told, I'm digging it. About goddamn time.
Priya is a potter. Her true passion is ceramics and it's amazing to watch her take a lump of cold, wet clay and transform it into beautiful pieces of art. She's always been artistic and that's just one of the many things I love about her. She used to work the corporate grind but has taken the last few years off to be at home with our kids, and it's really helped her relax, slow down and enjoy life. She's Indian and even those she was raised in the States, her mother and father relentlessly pushed her to become one of the three accepted careers in that culture...doctor, lawyer or engineer. She chose the engineer route, and while she was fabulous at it, her heart was never into it, especially having to deal with an industry dominated by asshole white males. It shook her confidence and drove home the point that the land of corporate engineering wasn't for her. But her stint as a stay-at-home parent had freed up her schedule and she was able to dive into her ceramics, and that was a thing of beauty.
Recently, Priya had switched her weekly wheel-work class from Wednesday to Saturday. I had taken a gig that allowed me to work from home and I discovered that trying to take care of the boys during the day on summer break and working from home were incompatible. It was after this switch that I noticed a change in my wife's behavior, and it piqued my curiosity as to what was happening in that wonderful and sexy brain of hers.
The first thing that I noticed is that she would make it to class on-time, sometimes even leave early. Now, for most folks, this would be considered normal, but if you are part of an Indian family or have close friends who are Indian, then you know that 'ridiculously late' and 'Indian' go hand-in-hand. Shit, Priya was late for our wedding, so mind you that I took notice of this. She chalked it up to the new instructor, who was "marvelous", but I had my doubts.
Then she started wearing cotton summer dresses to her class. She usually wore grimy shorts and t-shirts and would come home covered in clay, but now she was wearing older summer dresses, no bra and sometimes, even sexy panties. She'd still come home covered in clay and these dresses were becoming just as grimy as her normal outfits, but again, something just seemed off.
Finally, she turned off her iCloud on her iPhone. I know it's super creepy to track your spouse, but sometimes I did just that. Hell, I know she did that to me too, especially when I was on the road as a consultant. But now, when I'd go look to see where she was, I'd get the dreaded 'device off-line' warning. That's when I knew that something wasn't kosher, and I was determined to find out what the hell was going on.
I arranged to have a babysitter come to the house the following Saturday and set it up so that she'd come after my wife took off for her class. I kissed the kids goodbye, told the sitter I'd be back in a few hours, and away I went. I felt excited, nervous, scared and pissed all at the same time. We'd talked about her bedding other men before, but it was always just that...talk. I had always hoped that if and when it actually progressed to that point, I'd be in the know...hell, I was hoping to be in the room so I could watch.
Now I was wondering what the hell I was doing, but decided, in for a penny, in for a pound. As I drove the 20 minutes to her studio space, I kept seeing her gorgeous, curvaceous body in my mind's eye. She was bent over a couch with her dress lifted, panties pulled to the side and some young hot stud fucking her doggie style while he pulled on her thick, black hair. It made me hard and nervous all at the same time.
As I drove past her studio, part of me was relieved to see her SUV there. I parked in an empty parking lot about two blocks down the street and waited. And waited. And waited some more. She usually was at class for five to six hours, but today, I saw her leave the studio, fully packed-up, after only three hours. Now we were getting somewhere.
She pulled out of the studio and headed West, which was odd as we lived way South of there. I left her get a half mile ahead before I pulled out and started to follow her. For shits and giggles I texted her to see how class was going and see replied back, "Great. Glazing some pieces and should be home in a couple of hours," as I was following her. Now I knew this was going to get good.
After scooting through traffic at a leisurely pace for another 15 minutes, I saw her turn into a subdivision. I lost her as I had to wait at a red light and figured that my little private investigator escapade was over, but decided to cruise the streets to see if I could find her. After twenty minutes or so, I finally found her SUV parked in front of a pretty stone one-story ranch towards the end of the development. I cruised by just long enough to get the address and then found a spot to stop at a park that was at the end of the street. I typed in the address on my cell phone and low and behold, after some Google magic, discovered the owner of the house, Marco, was an old work colleague that my wife had known back in her engineering days. If I remembered correctly, he was a lady killer. Latino, dark hair and eyes, fit. He was older by about a decade and was going through a rough divorce when my wife had quit. I knew that she had kept up with him through Facebook and the occasional lunch, but obviously, they were getting acquainted again.
I hopped out of my car and walked the hike and bike path that led from the park to the greenbelt behind this guy's house. Because it was summer and hotter than hell, no one was around, which was a good thing as I used the opportunity to hop the fence into his yard. There were windows all over the back of the house, and I was scared as shit that I'd be seen, but as I said before, in for a penny, in for a pound. I waited a few minutes after I hopped the fence and found a nice shady spot behind a big live oak that was taking over a corner of the yard. I figured that if they had seen me, I'd either have a pissed off Marco coming out of his house or be hearing my wife's SUV take off like a bat outta hell, or shit, maybe both. Since none of that happened, I made my way up the side of the yard until I was right next to the house. I looked in the first window and all I could see was a hallway. As I followed the house around to the back, the next window I came to was a living room.
As I looked in, I could see clothes strewn across the floor and couch. A t-shirt here, a sundress there, some shoes over there. It looked like the clothes had been dispensed with hastily. As I continued down to the next set of windows, I came upon a bedroom and struck gold. Priya was on her back, pulled all the way to the edge of the bed as Marco, with his back to me, pumped into her like an oil derrick gone mad between her creamy, brown thighs. I could hear her grunt and whimper as I watched her feet on pull on Marco's ass, urging him deeper into her pussy.
"Oh baby, fuck me harder...fuck me harder!" she squealed as Marco increased his pace until his ass was a blur. I saw her stiffen her back and push with all her might against him as she screamed and came. Her nails dug into his back and she turned her head to the side, panting and moaning.
"So...fucking...wet," Marco grunted between slowing strokes. As he waited for her to come back to planet Earth, he said, "You squirted...feels so fucking good. I'm gonna lick that pussy until you scream for more, you dirty slut."
"Fuck," was all she could mumble before de dived between her legs.
It was at this point that she sat up on her elbows, looked out the window and locked eyes with me. I had completely forgotten to do any sort of hiding after being shocked with the sight of her fucking. At first, her eyes seemed dreamy, cloudy, far away...like she was contemplating something, or nothing at all. But as she focused and realized that I was watching her fuck, her face transformed from bliss to panic to hedonism. She always did get off on fantasies where she was being watched, where she performed, and I knew she had done as much in college. She stared directly at me and started instructing Marco on how to lick her.
"Ohhhh, baby, spread my lips and just lick the clit...god yes, just like that," I heard her moan. "Keep tongue fucking that clit baby," she snarled, while never breaking eye contact with me. She used her hands to hoist her D-cup tits and brought a nipple to her mouth to suck and nuzzle. I saw her mouth the words, "Like the show?" to me as she did this and all I could do was dumbly nod.
Marco kept licking as Priya slowly started gyrating and grinding her sweet cunt into his face. She continued to pull and twist at her nipples while Marco feasted, licking her pussy to abandon. At one point, she looked away and used a hand to rub circles on her nub while Marco kept at it and then twisted her head to the side to look directly at me again as she started to cum and screamed, "Oh god baby, faster honey, don't ever stop!"
I couldn't take the intensity of my emotions nor the scene anymore. I stepped away from the window breathless, confused, horny and upset. Part me of was saddened that my wife didn't trust me enough to share this escape, but a larger part of me was horny and excited. I slowly made my way out of the yard the way I had come in and walked back to my car in a daze. I really don't remember the drive home, but was immediately vaulted back into reality when I had to pay the sitter and resume life as dad with my kiddos. The minutes until Priya arrived home were excruciating and I wasn't even sure where or how to start the conversation with her.
She came home later that afternoon and we both acted as if everything were normal in front of the kids. Later that night, after dinner was cleaned up and the kids were tucked into bed, Priya walked into our bedroom. She dropped off her clothes as she walked to the bed and lay down next to me, moving one hand to stroke my dick while she leaned in close and started to whisper in my ear.
"Did you like the show today?" she asked, while skimming her tongue against my earlobe. Bolts of electricity ran through me and my dick immediately sprang to attention. "I always wanted to fuck Marco."
"I did, but I wish you would have told me. It hurt to see it as if I were a stranger," I muttered half-heartedly.
"I knew you'd follow me at some point...it just took you a little bit longer than I thought," she giggled as she stroked my now rock solid cock.
"How long?" I asked.
"Does it matter?" she whispered as she lowered her mouth down onto my cock and licked the ridge around the head of dick. "You love the fact that I'm fucking around. It's always excited you. You've talked about it forever. And now you have a slut wife," she said as she licked my dick, never breaking eye contact with me.
"Is he the first?" I panted as she enveloped my manhood and cupped and kneaded my balls.
