The Curtained View

Joan and I have been married now for 26 years and sadly the heat that drove us to parenthood seems to have gone out of our relationship. Mind you, ours has not been a terribly adventurous love life. Staid is a good word. Joan had limits to what she would agree to or do. Oral sex was a complete no, no. Anal? The work of the devil. Toys? Far too decadent.

After 22 years the youngest of our three, our beautiful Mary is still in the house. I am not sure what we will do when she leaves home. The house that has always buzzed with life and love and laughter will, I suppose become still. With the older siblings gone, it has already taken on a sort of stillness that neither I nor Joan are comfortable with. As the house has become quieter and more empty, Joan has become more reclusive, less responsive to me. It is sad. I have been faithful but longed for some adventure, some decadence, something, anything.

As an antidote to the silence we have taken to letting out parts of our old rambling house to tourists using one of those booking sites. we don't really need the cash but it fills the house with noise and laughter which is just great as far as I am concerned.

The house is old so privacy is not a problem so long as you close doors and most of our guests are punctilious about keeping doors closed.

There are two rooms that have no privacy mainly because they were one room. When we had a space crisis some time back we split our large living room in half, using concertina doors made of fabric. To cover this rather ugly arrangement we hung curtains over both sides so the divide is not really obvious but still recognisable.

One evening late, we were sitting reading on our side of the divided room. Our guests returned after what sounded like a boozy evening on the town and settled in on the other side of the partition. The TV was switched on softly and a music channel played soft romantic music. I glanced a Joan and she smiled back but didn't say anything so I went back to my book. The soft murmur of voices could be heard punctuated with the occasional giggle, soft and throaty.

Then it went quiet for a while. A soft "Oh." broke the silence. And another, then some sighs and soft fabric moving on fabric sound.

Joan got up and tiptoed across the lounge, pulled back the curtain slightly, bent forward and put her eye to a crack in the partition. She stood there motionless as the sighs became louder and the fabric sounds became more rhythmic and more urgent.

I watched her wondering at a side to Joan I had never suspected before. A voyeur? My wife of 20 odd years? I was surprised to say the least.

The sex reached an appropriate climax and our guests shuffled off to bed. Joan and I retired and I found that her voyeurism had excited her and although our sex was still pretty vanilla she was far more enthusiastic than she had been in years. A very nice change.

The next night I had to go out and came on late. Joan was in bed and asleep already. The bed stank of sex and there was a damp patch in the middle of the bed. I kept my council on the topic.

The following night the guests staged a really hot performance. As soon as the guests started Joan was at her spy hole. I was really surprised when Joan reached down, lifted the hem if her skirt and slid a hand between her legs. I could not remember her ever masturbating in front of me. I watched in growing excitement as her hand started to rub at her pussy almost in time to the rhythm of the increasingly loud sounds of sex coming from the other side of the partition.

I had by this stage a huge erection and so I got up and moved silently across the floor toward Joan to see what she was watching. Not that our guests would have heard me as they were now obviously in the throes of full penetrative sex, grunting, moaning and slapping skin against skin.

I could not see what was happening as Joan had the grandstand position so I slid my hand up under her skirt. sliding a finger into a surprisingly wet slit. I found her clit easily enough and did what I knew turned her on. Slowly building her arousal as the couple next door hammered their way to a frantic dual orgasm.

By the time the woman had shouted "Yes. oh fuck, YES." I had my cock out and was about to slide it into Joan when she straightened up, grabbed my cock and led me with indecent haste to our bedroom. She collapsed on the bed and grabbed a hand full of hair.

"Eat me. You always wanted to. Now do it."

I didn't need much coaxing and she was soon grinding her pussy against my face, my lips, my tongue as if nothing else mattered. I slid three fingers in her, found her g spot and started massaging it. She came almost immediately. thrusting up against my mouth. I let her come down again but only enough to allow her to catch he breath, then I started the cycle again. Just before she reached orgasm I pulled back and turned her over onto her knees and thrust into her from behind. She was hot wet and wide open for me as I thrust into her, again and again, my body aching to empty inside her, I held back grimly till she came and then moaned

"No. Stop. No more. I can't any more. Please stop." and I howled at the ceiling as I spurted inside her.

We collapsed in a tangle of limbs and I drifted off to sleep. I awoke with my cock in her mouth, ducking furiously until I came in her mouth. She looked up at me smiled and swallowed.

Later that morning "Welcome back." were her first words. "Where have you been?"

I have never corrected her or disagreed. I just look abashed and make her cum again and all is well. The other night as I licked her pussy I slid a well lubricated digit into her arse, slowly rotated it and pull it out slowly. I paused, waited and was rewarded with a soft sighed word.

"Again."

It seems that I will have her virgin arse soon. Our drunk guests have unlocked a tiger and I for one, am grateful, very grateful.