Vixen Wife's Mysterious Stranger

My wife and I are a fortyish couple who have been happily married for almost 20 years. Our kids are (mostly) grown and out on their own. My wife works full time as a retail store manager and I spend most of my time doing consulting work for various companies. Usually I work from home but sometimes my work takes me away; sometimes just an hour or so, but sometimes just far enough for enough days in a row that it's easier to stay in a hotel then to travel back and forth each day.

For the past couple of years my wife and I have been very aware of the fact that we're almost finished with our primary parenthood responsibilities and we've been making attempts to focus some time, attention and energy on ourselves. We realized that our sex life -- although pretty fulfilling -- could be more exciting and satisfying, so we began to seek out a few ways we could add a buzz of excitement to our love making and sex play.

What we experimented with (that we enjoyed) included taking pictures of her and sharing them via the internet. While she was sure that her 40+ curvy mommy body wouldn't be a turn on to anyone, she was pleasantly surprised to find out how many men out there, who saw her pictures, found her body very desirable. In fact, she found several dozen who were willing to show her how desirable by jerking off for her on webcam so she could watch. As I posted fresh pictures she chatted with her admirers and watched them stroke their stiff cocks -- made hard by her pictures -- until they came. She always has enjoyed seeing a man cum. The heavier the load and the farther he can shoot the more it turns her on. But even a guy (like me) who has had a vasectomy and doesn't shoot very far can turn her on by stroking and cumming and showing her the cum flow.

We made some videos of ourselves playing and edited them to share too; I made slideshows out of some of our photo sessions of her in various outfits (and stripping out of them), etc. She enjoyed the feedback and finally admitted to me that when she looked at some of those stiff cocks men were stroking to her she did occasionally think about how they might feel sliding into her. She got very wet thinking those thoughts and I always enjoyed sliding MY stiff cock into her slick wetness after she watched those men stroke themselves off for her.

After plenty of conversation we realized that we would both enjoy being watched and/or watching another couple in person. We talked about options from inviting someone to come run the still and video cameras for us, to meeting other couples in hotel rooms so that they could play on one bed while we played on the other -- all of us getting to watch and be watched. After much such conversation my wife finally admitted that the idea of actually taking a new lover (I was the only guy she'd been with since we started dating and only the fourth guy she'd ever had sex with) turned her on a great deal. It also made her feel nervous, worried, scared and excited all at the same time. It was a topic we talked on and off about for some years before we got to where we are now -- where this story takes place.

We had finally come to the conclusion that our marriage was secure; we loved each other and we were looking forward to our commitment of forever. That all said, we felt that we had explored all of the available sex play avenues available to a couple. We didn't think we could find anything new -- that we were willing to try -- that we hadn't already tried or experimented with. Our sex life was good -- and all the focus we'd begun to put on each other had increased our level of activity. Still, it was predictable to some extent and we both wanted to find a way to put that original spark... that excited buzzy feeling -- back into it.

More conversation revealed that my wife really did want some new cock and I was excited by the prospect of her just being such a sexual animal and a sexually free woman, to take a new lover. Since we agreed that it was something she'd like and I was okay with, we posted a couple of advertisements on "swinger" and "lifestyle" sites to try to find her the right guy. We had to be careful about it because we didn't want someone who was going to treat her like a cum-dump or call her names. She just wanted to experience sex with someone new and I wanted her to enjoy the experience as much as she could. We took our time and were careful and eventually found her a potential playmate: Tad. (His name was Thaddeus but he had learned not to like it growing up, so he used the nickname Tad)

Tad was much younger than us, being in his mid-twenties and was very appreciative of Linda's body. He was attracted to her curves and reached out to us via email after seeing our ad on a website. I pre-screened him and then handed him off (via email) to Linda. She kept me up-to-date on how things were progressing and, as she was comfortable, they went from corresponding via email to texting to phone calls. Mixed in with the phone calls were sext (sex text) messages and special pictures they'd send back and forth to each other. It reached the point where we proposed a date to meet him to make sure the spark really was there between he and Linda and we were standing by to hear back from him whether or not that date would work.

In the midst of that I got an assignment that required me to work in an office about two hours from home for six days in a row. It was just far enough that I wasn't going to commute each day; I was just going to stay in a hotel near the work site. Linda was working four of the six days anyway (she was off the Saturday and Tuesday I'd be gone), but we both missed each other at night. After almost twenty years of marriage you really do get comfortable sleeping next to that special someone and we missed that presence at night. While I was on this travel I came up with an idea that I thought Linda might enjoy, so I set my kinky plan in motion.

It was during a phone call Sunday evening that I introduced the idea -- without really telling her what was going on.

"So, baby... how much do you trust me?"

She could tell by the way I asked that I had something in mind and she pondered what it could be before answering me. "I trust you, honey." Her answer was simple.

"But how much?" I persisted. "Will you trust me if I ask you to do something and don't want to tell you why or what will happen?"

She chuckled because she knew I was thinking something sexual (I usually am) and she was buying time to decide whether or not she wanted to go along with whatever I had in mind. Finally she asked, "Will it be fun?"

"I think so," I replied, the smile obvious in my voice. "I can't make any guarantees but I think it'll be just different enough to turn you on."

"Is it safe?" she asked, a little more seriously.

"Baby, I love you," I said VERY seriously. "We both know I have a great imagination and I love sexual play and sex experimentation, but I would never ask you to participate in anything I didn't feel was 100% safe for you."

"Okay," she said with a pause. "What is it?"

"I don't want to tell you everything," I said. "The not knowing is part of what I think will make it exciting for you. So what I want to do is ask you to do a few things and then trust me on the rest."

"What things?" she asked.

"Do you agree?" I asked her.

"To do what you tell me without knowing anything about what it is or what will happen? Are you crazy?"

"Is that you telling me that you don't trust me?" I asked. She got the message. If she really did trust me then she'd do what I asked and trust that I wouldn't let anything bad happen to her, and whatever did happen to her she'd enjoy... and probably have fun at.

There was a pause while she thought about it and then she did answer. She jumped blind off the abyss into what she hoped would be a grand adventure. "Yes," she said simply.

"Okay," I said with a huge smile on my face, knowing she could hear it even though she couldn't see it through the phone. "Here's what I need you to do: Tuesday morning, about ten o'clock, take your shower and make sure your pussy is neatly trimmed." I heard her give me an audible but not carefully spoken acknowledgement. "At ten-thirty, make sure the back door to the house is unlocked, put whatever porn DVD you prefer on and set the volume up so it's all you can hear in the room." She acknowledged again. "Then put on the blindfold, make sure you can't see anything at all around it and lay down in bed. Put your hands either behind your head or at your sides, but leave them there and do not touch yourself or anyone else you might encounter."

At that she balked a bit. She didn't complain about the back door being unlocked while she was blind and naked in bed; she didn't complain about my command not to touch herself or 'anyone else'; she balked about having porn on that she couldn't see. "What's the point of watching porn if I can't watch it?"

I sighed loud enough and long enough so that she could hear it and understand it as an expression of my frustration. "The point of the porn is not for you to watch; it's to have erotic background sounds while you enjoy your adventure and to drown out any other sounds that might give away what I have planned for you." I paused and let that sink in. "Now, do you agree to do what I've asked and trust me that you'll enjoy yourself?"

There was a long pause. It got so long that I started to wonder if she was even going to answer me. "Well?" I prompted.

"Okay," she said sounding nervous. "You better know what you're doing."

"You're going to have a good time, baby," I said, smiling as I thought about my plan. "Just make sure the backdoor is unlocked by ten-thirty, and that you're blind-folded and in bed naked within a couple minutes later, with some loud porn on in the background."

"Yes, dear," she said; but this time I could hear her smile. We exchanged "I love you"s and hung up with me thinking about what she was going to enjoy in just a couple days.

On Monday we talked several times and exchanged some text messages, but she didn't say anything about Tuesday until right before we hung up from our last call Monday evening. "So, am I still supposed to be ready as you directed tomorrow morning?" she asked.

"Yes," I said without elaboration.

There was a pause before she said, "Okay. Love you."

"Love you too," I replied, adding, "G'night," and hung up.

- - - -

Linda's Perspective:

After we got off the phone Sunday evening I tried to figure out what Dave had in mind. I knew without a doubt I could trust him not to do anything that would ever hurt me. I also knew that he'd sometimes try to find ways to 'push the envelope' and the large majority of those times I enjoyed it. Truth be told, I knew that there were times when I wanted to try something, and he knew I wanted to try it, but I wasn't brave enough to just say, "Let's try this," and he'd have to find a way to work me into it. So, I knew whatever was going to happen Tuesday morning, I'd probably have a good time. I was sure enough of it that I got excited thinking about it. Part of the excitement -- as I'm sure he knew -- was NOT knowing what was going to happen beyond what he'd asked me to do.

The thought was on my mind anytime work slowed down on Monday and Monday evening when I went to bed I fell asleep thinking about all the things I could imagine might happen... and I fell asleep all too aware of how wet my pussy was due to the excitement of the unknown.

I woke up Tuesday out of dreams of a faceless stranger sliding his steel-like erection into my drenched sex. I enjoyed my usual morning but found myself consumed with thoughts of how slow the clock seemed to be moving. By nine-thirty I was sorting through our small porn collection and found a DVD that featured scenes of women being serviced... well, FUCKED... by more than one man at a time, each man having substantial sexual equipment. Thoughts of those big cocks stretching open and penetrating deep into hungry pussies had my own flowing freely again. Why had Dave told me not to touch myself or 'anyone else'? Who was going to come in here? I couldn't imagine he'd let anyone else come in here, but I also knew he was on travel and couldn't be there. What did he have planned for me? The more I thought about it the more I realized I had no choice but to do what he asked, as I had told him I would and enjoy whatever my husband had planned for me.

By ten I had trimmed down my pubic hair as short as I dared short of shaving, and while in the shower I carefully shaved around my thatch, neatening up the edges and shaping it nicely. My thoughts were running wild. I thought, "I wonder who's going to be seeing the neat trim job I'm doing?" Then I thought, "There's no way Dave would have a total stranger come in the house to have sex with me without telling me first." My next thought was, "What if it's not a stranger? What if it's someone he knows and trusts to come treat me carefully while they fuck me? Had he contacted Tad who was going to come fuck me?" My head started to spin with all the possibilities and my heart raced with fear. For a second I wondered if I could actually do this.

As I dried off I took several deep breaths, holding each for a few seconds before slowly exhaling each one. I knew my husband. I loved my husband. My husband loved me -- without a doubt and unconditionally. I knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, in my heart and soul, that he wouldn't do anything to risk my well-being in any way. Whatever he had planned, he was sure I'd enjoy it. He was eager for me to enjoy it.

Clinging to that thought, and feeling my freshly washed and dried pussy already flowing juices on the inside of my thighs, at ten-thirty I promptly put on the blindfold, turned up the volume on the porn so that it was all I could hear and laid down on the bed. I had turned the heat up in the house so I could lay on top of the covers without being cold and although I knew something sexual was going to happen, I laid with my legs demurely closed. Whoever was going to walk in would surely see me naked, but I wouldn't spread my legs until something indicated I should do so. I was honest enough with myself though to admit that I really wanted my legs spread wide; my pussy was hot and wet and I desperately wanted to feel a rock hard cock sliding into me.

Just a moment later I sensed more than heard someone else in the room. The sound of the porn playing so loud - the moans and groans of pleasure streaming from the television -- had prevented me from hearing the back door open or close; the sound of anyone walking down the hallway; the sound of them entering the bedroom. My heart raced with fear of the unknown but I felt my pussy gush at the blatant sexuality of the moment. I could feel him (I assumed it was a him) standing there; I could feel his eyes on me; I wondered what he thought? I wondered WHO HE WAS?

I realized I was holding my breath in an attempt to hear what was going on. I exhaled and focused on breathing and successfully did so until I felt the bed move. My breath caught in my throat as I felt the weight of another person joining me on the bed. I wasn't exactly in the middle of the bed, but I was more on my side than Dave's. Whoever moved onto the bed next to me did so on my side. Would Dave do that? Wouldn't he climb onto the bed on his own side?

The hand that touched my thigh brought my thoughts and fears into sharp focus. I was naked, sexually excited and blind on my bed. Someone I may or may not know, but certainly couldn't readily identify, was with me on the bed. I was sexually available to them... and I wasn't even sure who it was.

The hand caressed my thigh gently, down toward my knee... up the front of my thigh... just over toward my pussy a bit... and then back down toward my knee. The finger tips stroked my skin; the pressure was practically non-existent; the touch was a tease that enflamed my desires even further, magnifying my fear of the immediate future even more.

The fingers trailed their tease up and down the front of my thigh, crossing to the other and back. Gradually a pressure was added to the fingers, indicating that this person wanted my thighs spread. Up along the inside of my right thigh, pulling it toward them; back down the inside of my left thigh, pushing it away -- the net affect being to push my thighs apart gently. With my breathing growing deeper and more excited, I didn't clamp my thighs together, so that the person would have to push hard. I understood their desires, was honest enough with myself to admit that it was my desire too -- even though I was scared at the thought. My desires had been growing since Sunday evening and had exploded this morning as I prepared. My pussy was in desperate need of attention and that wouldn't happen unless I opened my thighs.

As the man's fingers stroked up my right thigh, across my abdomen just above my pubic line and back down my left thigh, steadily pressing to indicate that I should spread them, I complied slowly. With each of his strokes I probably spread my thighs an inch at a time, every movement increasing my fear level; every inch increasing my excitement. In my mind's eye I could see the man... staring intently at the moist center of my womanhood... his eyes locked onto my by now swollen inner lips... hunger clear in his expression. I couldn't help but wonder, was my desire as obvious on my face as I imagined his to be?

Lost in my thoughts I hadn't realized that my thighs were far enough apart for him to touch me there. As his fingers trailed up the inside of my right thigh, they curved farther in and pressed into the wet slit of my sex. My breath escaped me in a rush as my thighs seemed to jump apart on there on. The touch of these anonymous fingers seemed electric. My clit throbbed and buzzed. I was aching to feel his firm (hopefully decently sized) shaft penetrating me.

His fingers didn't trail up and down my thigh anymore. Once he touched my pussy his fingers stayed. I felt them sliding up and down between my lips... spreading me... measuring my wetness... and then sliding so deliciously yet so frustratingly into me. It was delicious because I was craving being filled; hell, I was craving anything to penetrate me. It was frustrating because that one finger was no where near what I wanted; I wanted thicker; I wanted longer; I wanted the weight of this man pressing his thick stiff cock into my pussy until our pelvises met and we were grinding together to insure I had all he could offer.

His fingers teased me though... sliding in, stirring around, sliding out and smearing my abundant pussy juices up around my clit... the stimulation causing my hips to jump and my entire pelvis to seem on fire. Then it trailed back down my slit and slid so easily up into me again. I felt the pressure of it; I felt him pushing his finger as hard into me as he could. Then it was gone again... and then he pushed two fingers into me and it felt SO much better. The stretch still wasn't enough but it was heavenly as compared to just that one finger.

Then, as he began to pump those two fingers in and out of me, delivering spasms of wonderful pleasure to me, I felt my orgasm begin to rise. I could tell from the very beginning that it was going to be an intense and deeply pleasurable one. And then maddeningly... frustratingly... the fingers were gone. What was he doing? Was he mad? Didn't he know how bad I need them? How much I needed so much more. My body seemed to express that need in an unspoken fashion as my thighs spread even farther, seemingly of their own volition, and my hips rose slightly as if offering up my sex for me. I certainly was... even if subconsciously.

Then I felt the bed move more... I felt the weight shift from beside me to between my legs and I knew what he was doing; he was positioning himself above me... between my wide open and welcoming thighs. He was positioning himself to finish his conquest; to take me; to fill me with his glorious cock. With every fiber of my being I wanted two things: first, I wanted to put my hands on his hips and pull his pelvis into mine; second, I wanted to feel his length and thickness spearing into my pussy, feeling it stretch me open and penetrate me deep. I wanted to feel his manhood stroking in and out of my slick sex until I exploded in orgasm around it. More, I wanted to feel him pump and stroke until his own orgasm claimed him and he pulsed his cream into me. It seemed my only purpose for being at that moment.