Bringing Sarah Home

I'm not proud of what I did.

You might think that I'm some kind of sick voyeur or pervert or sex-starved, or frustrated. Or all of those things.

And you might be right.

All I know is I was tired of my 55-year old wife not responding in the bedroom anymore. When she was younger, she would have wonderful, screaming, dogs-barking, sirens-wailing, children-crying orgasms. But as she got older, the frequency fell off more and more. These days, it was practically non-existent.

Oh, sure, we had sex. I had even managed to condition myself so I could pound away at her old pussy for a half-hour or longer before spilling my load. She seemed to enjoy the ride but she never got "over the hump", "visited happyland," "paid the dues," "saw fireworks" or whatever term du jour she was using these days to say she hadn't cum -- and I did.

Okay, if I wasn't so damned horny I would have given up long ago. I mean, who wants to work so hard to get your woman off and still discover that she not only didn't cum, but she was angry at you because you did? I had to try something new.

I have always been faithful to Sarah and we'd been married almost 32 years. As far as I know, she has always been faithful to me but she had a playful, even naughty side to her. She was seldom shocked by anything we saw in the movies, television or real life. She was a world class cock sucker, enthusiastically took it up the ass (I loved when she would pull me into her rectum, afraid I would slip out) and was willing to watch porn, read dirty books, anything to build up the excitement.

But she never took that final leap. I figured it was my job to go to the next level -- and get her off. And I had an idea.

Sometimes Sarah would flirt with the young man across the street. She wouldn't call it flirting but it used to piss me off that she would cross the street to talk about problems we were having with crabgrass in our front yard or the difficulty in keeping an old house maintained or commiserate about the sorry state of public utilities.

Sam was coming off a divorce. I never saw his wife but he was left with enough money (rare enough in a divorce!) to buy the nice two-storey across from us. He kept it well maintained.

Sam especially liked to take his shirt off while mowing the lawn or hauling sprinklers around to keep the grass green. Sarah would watch him sometimes when she didn't know I was looking but would never do it when I was there. She was sensitive to my, well, insecurity, and I loved her for it.

Sam would go out on most weekends and every so often it was clear he had a "guest" spending the night with him. All in all, he was a good neighbor who went to work every morning, was quiet, friendly and helpful in an emergency (like the time he took me to get my tire repaired) and kept his place looking nice.

I found myself slowly moving from anger to arousal by my wife, Sarah's, conversations with him and her spying when he was in the yard. I think Sam was at least a little aware of her casual flirting but he didn't make much of it and never did anything about it.

"I think Sam likes you," I offered to Sarah one day.

She blushed a little and said, "That's silly. He's less than half my age."

"Maybe, " I said, "But I bet he knows the way home. I bet he could get you over the hump." I couldn't bring myself to say what I was thinking to the woman I lived with for more than 3 decades. But just when you think you know someone, they surprise you.

"Well . . . " she was flustered and this surprised me a little. So she had thought about it too! Then she looked me right in the eye with a little, guilty smirk. "Yes, maybe he could."

Although I had set myself up for this, I was a little crestfallen by her response. She was effectively saying that I wasn't man enough to get her to cum but maybe a new, young man's cock drilling her cunt would do the job. I was both thrilled and repulsed at the same time and wondered for a moment if she was simply playing with me but Sarah's clear-eyed stare made it obvious she was not.

We had been married long enough to understand the meaning of unspoken agreements. When you've lived with someone for as long as we had, you didn't need to put everything in writing. Sarah was saying she was ready to spread her legs for our neighbor, Sam . . .

"Of course, " she interrupted my musings , "you'd have to be there too."

The idea of standing in the same room as the man fucking my wife and watching them go at it, oblivious to my presence, was wildly arousing and I decided to move this little adventure into the next phase.

Let me tell you about Sarah. She's about 5-4 and 150 pounds or so (she won't go near a scale so I'm guessing). While she was never what you would call a beauty even when young, she was always well-proportioned with nice wide hips, great tits and short, but shapely legs. In her mid 50's now, she was rounder than she used to be and had a little paunch, soft but saggy ass and great melons of breasts, topped by nipples that responded to a gentle touch with involuntary pelvic thrusting. I have always found her physically attractive and a truly sexual being but of course she was more than that. She was my wife. She was off limits. Mine alone. Virginal (in a manner of speaking) to my cock alone.

Now all that was about to change.

There was one other thing about Sam I failed to mention earlier. He was a handyman of sorts. Various people in our neighborhood would employ his services to repair plumbing, level a crooked door jamb or replace a broken window. He would charge a nominal fee (probably went to his ex!) and do a good job for you. I don't do much handyman work but I never felt comfortable having Sam in my house so I would pay someone else, but now I thought I would use his skills to further my scheme.

Enter a new character: my mother-in-law Susan. She lived by herself about 5 miles from our house in a nice home in a nice neighborhood filled with nice people. A real white-bread lifestyle. She was getting up in years now -- mid 70s -- but was still able to get around pretty well by herself. She did her own shopping and was able to manage the affairs of a household pretty well.

When she told me of a broken sliding glass door just off her bedroom, I decided to set my plan into action. I suggested Sam could fix that for her but that it might be a little messy. She might want to visit friends or go out to lunch or something when he was doing the work. She agreed, thanked me, and I made arrangement with Sam to stop by next weekend while she was out.

I made it clear to Sarah what I was doing and she made it clear to me that she would be there to "assist" Sam with his work -- as long as I was close by. I was angry at her eagerness to take part in this seduction and filled with lust at the prospect of seeing my wife with another man at the same time. I convinced myself that this would help our marriage and that I wasn't really being cuckolded if I was setting the whole thing up!

That Saturday Sarah seemed surprisingly calm. She put on a simple top but found some shorts she could still get into that showed off her attractive legs. I was annoyed that she was calmly singing in the shower that morning as she shaved her legs and washed her hair but I was stunned at the assertiveness of my erection.

She looked good but there was no denying this was a middle-aged woman. Sarah just smiled at me, touched my chin affectionately then unbuttoned the top button of her blouse to show just a bit of the lacy beige bra which was about one size too small for her. Then we were off to her mother's home to await Sam.

Fortunately, her mother had already gone out (good thing too -- I don't think she would have approved of Sarah's attire). Sarah calmly picked up a magazine and sat in a chair in the corner of her mother's bedroom. She was coldly analytical of the situation in a way that was quite unlike her. She said it would probably be best if I hid in the bathroom when Sam arrived so he wouldn't see me but -- and this assuaged my feelings a little -- it was important that I be there near the bedroom door if things took the expected turn. She wanted me close by -- and I wanted to be there too, god help me.

My heart was pounding and Sam was about half an hour late. I hid in the shower and heard Sarah open the door and cheerfully welcome our handyman. He seemed surprised to see her at her mother's house.

"Thanks for coming over on such short notice," Sarah said without the least bit of nervousness. Hiding in the shower, my heart was pounding like a jackhammer. Then there was silence and Sam said "Thanks, I wish all my customers were as appreciative." Sarah had kissed him on the cheek and I remembered thinking, "if you only knew..."

"Follow me," Sarah said, and I knew she was wagging her sweet little ass in front of Sam down the hallway toward her mother's bedroom. I quietly slipped out of my hiding place and followed. What I saw shocked and angered me -- at first anyway.

Sarah had one arm around Sam's neck and was planting a long kiss on his mouth, then a series of short ones to -- I guess -- gauge his reaction to her aggression. She needn't have worried.

He dropped his tools right there on the bedroom floor and took Sarah into his arms, pulling her ass toward him and she -- I swear to god! -- sighed and swooned like a school girl as he kissed her mouth. There was no tentativeness here. I could see tongues intertwined in both mouths like snakes seeking escape then he forced a free hand up to her chest to gently massage her right tit and Sarah kissed him harder still as he did this then pulled away -- he still holding her covered breast -- and boldly reached down to grab his crotch.

"That's something I've wanted to do for a long time, Sam," and she rocked her hand on his growing erection. "You are formidable," she said in her best French accent, then coyly looked up at him. "I've wondered about your cock ever since that first day I saw your bare chest across the street. Have you wondered about me, Sam?"

I was again swept by the contrary emotions of anger and lust, disgust and curiosity.

I don't' know if Sam wondered about her or not but he certainly didn't have to wonder now. A man of few words, Sam began unbuttoning Sarah's blouse in a careful, workmanlike way and she shamefully thrust her breasts forward as he did so

There was my wife, the love of my life, chubby but delicious Sarah stroking Sam's erection through his work pants with those beautiful fingers, the same fingers that had held my cock and my cock alone for so many years.

Sam bent over and kissed Sarah's neck and slowly eased off one bra strap, then the other while she rolled her head on her neck like someone possessed. She may have wanted me nearby during this exercise but she certainly wasn't paying me any attention. I felt shamed as a man that my neighbor Sam was having his way with my woman while I simply watched and did nothing, nothing except develop a raging hardon myself.

Though bursting with contrary emotions, I had to admire the fact that Sam undressed my wife with the same deliberation and competence as he used to repair a broken door bell. There was no hurrying. He slipped off the bra straps, kissed each shoulder, then her mouth -- and she came to a furious, hungry life when he touched her lips -- then the other shoulder, before he oh-so-slowly unplopped first one tit, then the other. Now my wife was topless and being assaulted by this handsome young man, holding his head to her breast like Cleopatra holding an asp to hers.

So help me, I believed I could smell the sweet anticipatory scent of sex in that room although Sarah was still clothed from the waist down and Sam was completely clothed. Whether there was a real scent or not, there was no denying the feral hunger in that room. Sarah's beautiful breasts swung free as he licked each nipple in turn. I could still see the pressure marks from her too-tight bra as he tongued her.

"Bite it, sweetheart," said Sarah as though she were talking to a small child. "Bite my tits a little." She was now rubbing Sam's pants-covered crotch with greater and greater energy and I could see the disgusting, fascinating, glorious spectacle of my wife working this man's erection to its fullest extension so it looked as though he was hiding an orange in his pants.

"That's it, darling. That's it..." as Sam's long tongue flicked at each nipple, then nipped at each one gingerly before moving to the other. Sarah had a beatific smile on her face, eyes closed, hand still probing at Sam's crotch, the other arm on his head as he suckled at her bountiful bosom.

Still smiling, she opened her eyes -- still never looked at me in the door -- and unhooked Sam's belt then unzipped his pants, allowing the aroused monster inside to escape.

And what a monster it was! Now I was really starting to feel inadequate. He was huge. I had to fight every instinct in my body to keep from running in on the two of them and pulling him away. Something deep and primal did not want that . . . that thing to penetrate the womb of my sweet wife of 32 years. And another part of me wanted to see her punished with the weapon.

Sam was breathing heavily now, as was Sarah. As was I. She moved him toward her mother's bed and the two of them fell down on it, still kissing, sucking, probing and Sarah all the time trying to grab the terrible cock of the handyman as though she needed it for sustenance. When Sam took a break from his labors at her chest, Sarah unceremoniously pulled Sam's pants down completely and now the great cock sprung to attention straight up, pointing at the ceiling fan.

"Oh, my god, honey. That is magnificent!" and she had her sweet mouth over the glans and down the shaft as far as it would go, slurping and flicking at the tip while Sam started showing for the first time some real, unfettered passion.

"Jesus, God," he screamed. "Oh . . . oh . . . Sarah..."

She was flicking her manicured nails against Sam's hairy ball sack while saliva dripped down his shaft. From time to time she would move her hand to his hard abs and trace the outlines of his powerful muscles, then attack his cock with even greater enthusiasm and saying . . . something . . .

"Come on, baby. Come on, baby. Come on sweetheart," she was urging Sam's cum but that wasn't really necessary either because in a short time, he had blown it all in the mouth of the woman who said "I love you" to me so many times from those same lips and as he did, her eyes closed and she slobbered at him even more, taking it all, licking down to the scrotum. "That's right, my love," she said, over and over until I couldn't stand it, and Sam was delirious and I knew I must do something.

"What is going on here?"

Sarah's mother Susan had come home and amid all the noise and thunder here, I had heard nothing. For a moment I had to laugh and wonder -- how do you answer such a question?

I swear I saw Sarah look toward the door and wink in our direction but if she did, she didn't look our way for long. She was practically laughing as Sam sliced his hands inside her shorts and somehow positioned his mouth against her crotch and chewed at the fabric while Sarah's mother Susan and I looked on incredulously.

Sarah's old mother Susan and I looked on like two dumbstruck fools -- which I guess we were. Of course, I knew Susan for many years and had secretly lusted for her off and on over the decades but there was never the least indication that there was any interest or even any passion there. None. Not even jokes or wicked smiles. Nothing.

Until now.

As if this craziness wasn't strange enough, I managed a look at Susan staring at the writhing form of her daughter, my wife, wrestling in happy obliviousness to our presence, decadent and shameless. Right now she was trying to bite and lick Sam's tightly muscled ass while he tried to pull her shorts off. Covers were flying in all directions as they simultaneously disrobed and hungrily grabbed, bit and sucked each other's flesh.

But Susan, whom I thought at first was in shock, was actually entranced by this scene. Wide-eyed, she stood taking the sad, wicked play in as though she could do nothing but watch . . . but then . . . but then . . . I saw something I certainly did not expect to see. It was subtle but its meaning was unmistakable. This 75-year old matron almost absently let her right hand drift across her breasts and rest for just a moment between her legs, then she quickly dropped it to her side, looked back at me briefly a little guiltily.

"Sarah! Sarah! How can you? This is the bed of my dear, dead husband, your father!" I could tell Sarah wanted to scream this in righteous indignation but it seemed to die out at the end, just as Sam pulled Sarah's shorts off (she was wearing no underwear at all, the wicked bitch!) and buried his lips on her ass, lapping at her asshole like a councilman slurping soup.

"Yes, yes, yes," said Sarah, ignoring it all. "Eat my asshole Sam! It's yours, my sweet. Lick it. Love it. Eat me all over...."

There was no way of telling if Sam heard her plea as his ears were practically buried between her ass cheeks. Now he was able to work a finger between Sarah's pliable legs, then two, then three and finally his entire hand was plunging in and out of her sopping cunt while she rode it hard, like a horse that would finally take her home.

Although I didn't know what my mother-in-law Susan was thinking, I was jolted in a hundred directions from the anger, confusion, lust, fascination, envy, shame, of it all. Susan, just on this side of elderly, was standing bolt upright as if her posture and discipline would convey her anger. But was she angry?

We had always had a somewhat distant relationship for in-laws. We shared a chaste kiss on birthdays, holidays and before long trips. She would sign cards "fondly" or "affectionately" but never "Love, Susan." As a result, I guess, I never really saw her as a relative. She was just a woman in my life, sexless, even joyless, but not unpleasant.

So why did I reach out to her now? I was standing behind her as we both watched the spectacle, listened to the moans and obscene slurps, the filthy encouragements, when I touched her bare shoulder where the red sweater she wore to lunch clung to her shoulder.

I wish I could say she melted but she did quite the opposite. Susan's frame froze even more, which I didn't believe was possible. But I didn't care. Sarah and Sam were now taunting each other -- "put your dick there, put your dick there. Let me feel it. Yes, oh yes... -- and the noise overwhelmed everything else. I bent over and whispered in Susan's ear.

"Our world has turned upside down, " I said. Then I rubbed the back of my hand against her old face, remarkably soft, and she leaned against it for a moment before backing off again.

Sarah and Sam were naked now and all over each other. He was licking her toes while she bit at his rock hard calves and slapped his ass. They were a flurry of activity but then in stopped in one motion so that Susan and I couldn't help but look on to see what would happen next.

What happened next is Sarah knelt on the bed and thrust out her crotch at the panting figure of Sam, playing with her clit with one finger while licking her other with her tongue at the same time.

"Come on, Sammy" she said. "Eat me right. I want to see the big, beautiful tongue buried down deep in my cunt and slurping my like an ice cream cone. Come on Sammy. Let's see if you can make Sarah cum before this day is over," and she pumped her crotch at him while her breathing increased even more, her big beautiful breasts which I had sucked and enjoyed for so many years flapping against her chest like an afterthought. It was a picture so obscene that I felt as if I was in a dream and nothing had any consequence . . .