Hotwife Chapter 3A The Continuation Of My Hotwife s Weekend
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Did My Wife Know? free porn video
My neighbor, Mitchell, stood next to me at the window looking out on the gathering below in the garden. "She's pretty. Your wife, I mean. She's very sexy," He said.
"You mean for a guy like me?" I asked half jokingly. He put is large hand on my shoulder and laughed. "You scored with her Rob," he said. "Don't know how you did it, but she's a looker."
My wife, Jill, was scurrying around the garden attending to her guests at the barbeque. She wore a pair of lime green shorts that emphasized her curved ass and a thin white cotton t-shirt that didn't quite reach the waistband of her shorts. Although Jill was not the sporting type she was blessed with long, muscled legs that tapered to finely boned ankles. Her hair was in a shaggy dirty blond style that seemed to draw you into her deep blue eyes. Mitchell was right she was a "looker" but she was also a shy and very private person. She took her religious faith seriously and applied the same commitment to our marriage. She worked as an administrator in a local charity.
She noticed us standing at the window and tossed off one her perfect smiles before returning to her conversation with an elderly woman who lived several doors down. It was typical of her to find the most lonely and needy person and to offer a moment of happiness or understanding. I sometimes wondered whether marrying me had also been one of her acts of charity.
"Some guys like to imagine someone else fucking their wife." He paused, and then continued, "But if the guy's actually serious it usually turns out the wife's a dog."
"Oh," I said, recalling the thrill and shame of my own imaginings. "Jill wouldn't do anything like that," I added quickly.
"But you would. Is that what you mean?" He asked.
I shrugged my shoulders. "It's theoretical. She wouldn't dream of it."
Mitchell turned on his heels and walked away, stopping at the doorway. "She's a stunning piece of pussy. Let me know if you persuade her."
The plan occurred to me that night. Jill was curled up on the sofa, immersed in one of her endless mystery novels. I was watching a baseball game and daydreaming. The air was heavy and the crickets chorused outside. She had showered and changed into light cotton skirt that she tugged down occasionally to cover her exposed little panties. Her hair was wet and she smelled freshly soaped. Her eyes drifted above the page and she smiled at me. It was a smile of innocence and trust. It was an innocence and trust I planned to abuse in the most extreme way. All that was needed was to persuade Jill to "try something kinky" and the rest would be simple. The plan was, as far as I could tell, full-proof. I would get to watch another man fuck Jill and Jill herself would never know. First though I had to engineer an argument.
"What do you mean?" she asked, her eyes widening in hurt surprise.
"I just think our love-making is boring. It's just the same every time."
"You've never said anything before," Jill said. "I thought you liked it."
"Liked what?" I said irritably.
"What we do in bed," she said.
"'It's 'what we do in bed' – you're not talking to your priest Jill. How about using the word 'fuck' occasionally? Sometimes I just want to fuck. Nothing romantic, no bullshit, a straight fuck."
"OK, OK," Jill said, the first tears rolling down her cheek. "I honestly didn't know sweetie. Please don't be angry."
"Maybe you could be a bit more adventurous."
"Just tell me what you want," she said, "I didn't know you were so unhappy."
A few days later Jill walked into the TV room with a look of apprehension. She was dressed exactly as she had been that afternoon when Mitchell first saw her. The TV room opened out onto a small patio; the patio doors were wide open allowing a warm breeze to fill the room. Her eyes fell on the blindfold and rope lying on the couch.
"Tell me you love me," she said in a small voice.
"I love you," I replied, although somehow I couldn't quite meet her eye.
She stood in the middle of the room, her hands hanging loosely at her side while I knotted the blindfold tightly. I led her over to the bench I had dragged in from the garage. I placed a cushion under her tummy and bent her over the bench tying her wrists to the legs of the bench.
"Are you comfortable?" I asked softly, leaning down close to her.
"It's ok," she replied. "What are you going to do?"
I stepped back. "For fuck's sake, Jill, either you're going to do this or not. I'm sick of your prissiness and your boring fucking conventionality. You're supposed to be my fucking wife. Do you want me to go satisfy myself with a whore?"
"No. I'm sorry, I really am. I'm just nervous," she spluttered, taken back by my sudden anger.
"Good. Trust me and everything will be okay."
I put on a top-forty radio station to cover any accidental noises and flipped the patio light twice, signaling to Mitchell that I was ready. While I waited I set up the tripod for the video camera and sound recording.
Mitchell stood next to me and smiled. He walked slowly across the room towards Jill, first placing his hand gently on her waist. She jumped and quickly apologized. Then Mitchell slid his hand beneath her t-shirt running it along her flank and across her back.
"Mmm, your hands are warm," she said thinking it was my hand.
He reached under her and snapped open the button of her shorts. Jill wriggled her ass a little to help him pull them down past her thighs. He slipped his fingers under her dark purple bikini-string panties and slid them down a little way exposing her ass. Walking around the bench he pulled her t-shirt up. As instructed, Jill was braless, and he cupped one of her firm 36b tits in his hand. She jumped again when he pinched her nipple hard.
Next he kneeled down behind her, his face level with her ass. I could see her mouth open as she felt his breath against her skin. He pulled open her ass cheeks, exposing her pink anus and the sublime slope leading to her pussy.
"What are you doing", Jill asked, a note of concern, perhaps protest in her voice.
Mitchell immediately stood up and spanked her sharply across ass cheeks.
"Ow!" She protested. Mitchell spanked her again and again until she kept quiet.
Then he resumed his position, his tongue flicking out and probing her ass. He lifted her hips and allowed his tongue to explore further down until he penetrated the first folds of her cunt.
All the time I watched Jill's face; the creases of her confusion and concern, the look of panic when Mitchell's palm first smacked against her ass and then a look of bitter submission. Now that Mitchell's tongue was embedded in her pussy a new look overtook her face. This time it was a look at first of curiosity and then one of intense concentration. Mitchell stood up and slid a finger deeply, easily, into her hole. I could see Jill's breathing becoming quicker, the faint outline of her ribs moving beneath her olive brown skin.
"Rob," she said quietly, flinching expecting a new blow to her ass. I moved closer to Mitchell.
"What?"
"I know I'm not always a good wife to you. I know that you have needs, sexual needs that I pretend I can't see." She paused a moment. "Sweetie, I get so confused sometimes about this stuff. Sometimes," she paused again, weighing her words, "sometimes I do myself and think about porno stuff. I can't help it and I feel so ashamed of myself. I feel like I don't deserve your love and if you knew what I did you would throw me out."
"Don't be silly, my love," I said softly, moving around to her face.
"Kiss me, please," she whimpered.
I knelt down and felt the heat of her mouth with my lips. "You like being finger-fucked?"
Jill nodded. "You feel so strong tonight," she said, "I've never been touched like that before. It just seems so right. I can't stop myself wanting it."
"Good," I whispered. "What do you think about when you masturbate?" I asked.
"What?" Jill, said alarmed.
"Its okay, it's okay. It's just me and you. Tell me."
"You know, stuff… sex with guys. Sometimes," she smiled a little and swallowed hard, "more than one guy."
"You think about being gangbanged?"
"Yes."
"Do you think about particular men?" I asked, as Mitchell stripped off behind her, stroking his cock to the sweet sound of her voice. She hesitated before answering.
"You won’t be mad?' She asked.
"No, of course not," I replied, moving closer and brushing my lips against her cheek.
"Yes. Sometimes I think about guys."
"Who?"
"Usually just some stranger I've met at work or someone around. But I love you Rob. I would never, ever, ever do anything. I promise."
"What about the guy next door?"
"You mean Mitchell?" she asked slowly.
"Yes," I replied "Mitchell." She paused again.
"I've seen him looking at me," she said quietly.
"Do you like being looked at by him?"
"Oh Rob," she said, "don't let's ruin things. They're just silly thoughts. They don't mean anything."
"Do you imagine him fucking you? Fingering you? His cock sliding in and out of your mouth?" This time there was a longer pause.
"Yes. Don't be mad at me. Please."
"I’m not mad”… but when I fuck your face, and when I fuck your pussy, you better be imagining that it's his cock."
"Yes, Rob," she replied
I stepped back and walked across to the couch and sat beside the video camera and its blinking red light. Mitchell was naked and rock hard. He pressed the tip of his cock against her mouth which she opened eagerly. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and thrust into her mouth. I could see her gag and then gasp for breath as he pulled out and then I watched as Jill sucked and licked Mitchell's cock and allowed her mouth to be used for his pleasure.
When he entered her pussy I saw her mouth open in surprise and pleasure. Mitchell's fingers dug into Jill's ass and thighs and he pounded her unprotected cunt, each stroke forcing her swollen clit tight against the bench and bringing out loud gasps of throaty pleasure. I had never seen her so sunk into her own sexual need, her whole body knife-edged, awaiting for an explosion to ripple through her. When she orgasmed, a loud groan escaped her lips. Mitchell pulled out of her and, using his hand, shot his load across her ass and back.
Later we lay in bed in the darkness. She smelled of sex, and cum. I moved closer to her, burying my head in her hair and spooning my cock into her ass.
"Seeing how hot you got tonight; maybe we should invite Mitchell and his dick over next weekend," I suggested. "Would you like that?"
"Yes" she whispered.
"You mean for a guy like me?" I asked half jokingly. He put is large hand on my shoulder and laughed. "You scored with her Rob," he said. "Don't know how you did it, but she's a looker."
My wife, Jill, was scurrying around the garden attending to her guests at the barbeque. She wore a pair of lime green shorts that emphasized her curved ass and a thin white cotton t-shirt that didn't quite reach the waistband of her shorts. Although Jill was not the sporting type she was blessed with long, muscled legs that tapered to finely boned ankles. Her hair was in a shaggy dirty blond style that seemed to draw you into her deep blue eyes. Mitchell was right she was a "looker" but she was also a shy and very private person. She took her religious faith seriously and applied the same commitment to our marriage. She worked as an administrator in a local charity.
She noticed us standing at the window and tossed off one her perfect smiles before returning to her conversation with an elderly woman who lived several doors down. It was typical of her to find the most lonely and needy person and to offer a moment of happiness or understanding. I sometimes wondered whether marrying me had also been one of her acts of charity.
"Some guys like to imagine someone else fucking their wife." He paused, and then continued, "But if the guy's actually serious it usually turns out the wife's a dog."
"Oh," I said, recalling the thrill and shame of my own imaginings. "Jill wouldn't do anything like that," I added quickly.
"But you would. Is that what you mean?" He asked.
I shrugged my shoulders. "It's theoretical. She wouldn't dream of it."
Mitchell turned on his heels and walked away, stopping at the doorway. "She's a stunning piece of pussy. Let me know if you persuade her."
The plan occurred to me that night. Jill was curled up on the sofa, immersed in one of her endless mystery novels. I was watching a baseball game and daydreaming. The air was heavy and the crickets chorused outside. She had showered and changed into light cotton skirt that she tugged down occasionally to cover her exposed little panties. Her hair was wet and she smelled freshly soaped. Her eyes drifted above the page and she smiled at me. It was a smile of innocence and trust. It was an innocence and trust I planned to abuse in the most extreme way. All that was needed was to persuade Jill to "try something kinky" and the rest would be simple. The plan was, as far as I could tell, full-proof. I would get to watch another man fuck Jill and Jill herself would never know. First though I had to engineer an argument.
"What do you mean?" she asked, her eyes widening in hurt surprise.
"I just think our love-making is boring. It's just the same every time."
"You've never said anything before," Jill said. "I thought you liked it."
"Liked what?" I said irritably.
"What we do in bed," she said.
"'It's 'what we do in bed' – you're not talking to your priest Jill. How about using the word 'fuck' occasionally? Sometimes I just want to fuck. Nothing romantic, no bullshit, a straight fuck."
"OK, OK," Jill said, the first tears rolling down her cheek. "I honestly didn't know sweetie. Please don't be angry."
"Maybe you could be a bit more adventurous."
"Just tell me what you want," she said, "I didn't know you were so unhappy."
A few days later Jill walked into the TV room with a look of apprehension. She was dressed exactly as she had been that afternoon when Mitchell first saw her. The TV room opened out onto a small patio; the patio doors were wide open allowing a warm breeze to fill the room. Her eyes fell on the blindfold and rope lying on the couch.
"Tell me you love me," she said in a small voice.
"I love you," I replied, although somehow I couldn't quite meet her eye.
She stood in the middle of the room, her hands hanging loosely at her side while I knotted the blindfold tightly. I led her over to the bench I had dragged in from the garage. I placed a cushion under her tummy and bent her over the bench tying her wrists to the legs of the bench.
"Are you comfortable?" I asked softly, leaning down close to her.
"It's ok," she replied. "What are you going to do?"
I stepped back. "For fuck's sake, Jill, either you're going to do this or not. I'm sick of your prissiness and your boring fucking conventionality. You're supposed to be my fucking wife. Do you want me to go satisfy myself with a whore?"
"No. I'm sorry, I really am. I'm just nervous," she spluttered, taken back by my sudden anger.
"Good. Trust me and everything will be okay."
I put on a top-forty radio station to cover any accidental noises and flipped the patio light twice, signaling to Mitchell that I was ready. While I waited I set up the tripod for the video camera and sound recording.
Mitchell stood next to me and smiled. He walked slowly across the room towards Jill, first placing his hand gently on her waist. She jumped and quickly apologized. Then Mitchell slid his hand beneath her t-shirt running it along her flank and across her back.
"Mmm, your hands are warm," she said thinking it was my hand.
He reached under her and snapped open the button of her shorts. Jill wriggled her ass a little to help him pull them down past her thighs. He slipped his fingers under her dark purple bikini-string panties and slid them down a little way exposing her ass. Walking around the bench he pulled her t-shirt up. As instructed, Jill was braless, and he cupped one of her firm 36b tits in his hand. She jumped again when he pinched her nipple hard.
Next he kneeled down behind her, his face level with her ass. I could see her mouth open as she felt his breath against her skin. He pulled open her ass cheeks, exposing her pink anus and the sublime slope leading to her pussy.
"What are you doing", Jill asked, a note of concern, perhaps protest in her voice.
Mitchell immediately stood up and spanked her sharply across ass cheeks.
"Ow!" She protested. Mitchell spanked her again and again until she kept quiet.
Then he resumed his position, his tongue flicking out and probing her ass. He lifted her hips and allowed his tongue to explore further down until he penetrated the first folds of her cunt.
All the time I watched Jill's face; the creases of her confusion and concern, the look of panic when Mitchell's palm first smacked against her ass and then a look of bitter submission. Now that Mitchell's tongue was embedded in her pussy a new look overtook her face. This time it was a look at first of curiosity and then one of intense concentration. Mitchell stood up and slid a finger deeply, easily, into her hole. I could see Jill's breathing becoming quicker, the faint outline of her ribs moving beneath her olive brown skin.
"Rob," she said quietly, flinching expecting a new blow to her ass. I moved closer to Mitchell.
"What?"
"I know I'm not always a good wife to you. I know that you have needs, sexual needs that I pretend I can't see." She paused a moment. "Sweetie, I get so confused sometimes about this stuff. Sometimes," she paused again, weighing her words, "sometimes I do myself and think about porno stuff. I can't help it and I feel so ashamed of myself. I feel like I don't deserve your love and if you knew what I did you would throw me out."
"Don't be silly, my love," I said softly, moving around to her face.
"Kiss me, please," she whimpered.
I knelt down and felt the heat of her mouth with my lips. "You like being finger-fucked?"
Jill nodded. "You feel so strong tonight," she said, "I've never been touched like that before. It just seems so right. I can't stop myself wanting it."
"Good," I whispered. "What do you think about when you masturbate?" I asked.
"What?" Jill, said alarmed.
"Its okay, it's okay. It's just me and you. Tell me."
"You know, stuff… sex with guys. Sometimes," she smiled a little and swallowed hard, "more than one guy."
"You think about being gangbanged?"
"Yes."
"Do you think about particular men?" I asked, as Mitchell stripped off behind her, stroking his cock to the sweet sound of her voice. She hesitated before answering.
"You won’t be mad?' She asked.
"No, of course not," I replied, moving closer and brushing my lips against her cheek.
"Yes. Sometimes I think about guys."
"Who?"
"Usually just some stranger I've met at work or someone around. But I love you Rob. I would never, ever, ever do anything. I promise."
"What about the guy next door?"
"You mean Mitchell?" she asked slowly.
"Yes," I replied "Mitchell." She paused again.
"I've seen him looking at me," she said quietly.
"Do you like being looked at by him?"
"Oh Rob," she said, "don't let's ruin things. They're just silly thoughts. They don't mean anything."
"Do you imagine him fucking you? Fingering you? His cock sliding in and out of your mouth?" This time there was a longer pause.
"Yes. Don't be mad at me. Please."
"I’m not mad”… but when I fuck your face, and when I fuck your pussy, you better be imagining that it's his cock."
"Yes, Rob," she replied
I stepped back and walked across to the couch and sat beside the video camera and its blinking red light. Mitchell was naked and rock hard. He pressed the tip of his cock against her mouth which she opened eagerly. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and thrust into her mouth. I could see her gag and then gasp for breath as he pulled out and then I watched as Jill sucked and licked Mitchell's cock and allowed her mouth to be used for his pleasure.
When he entered her pussy I saw her mouth open in surprise and pleasure. Mitchell's fingers dug into Jill's ass and thighs and he pounded her unprotected cunt, each stroke forcing her swollen clit tight against the bench and bringing out loud gasps of throaty pleasure. I had never seen her so sunk into her own sexual need, her whole body knife-edged, awaiting for an explosion to ripple through her. When she orgasmed, a loud groan escaped her lips. Mitchell pulled out of her and, using his hand, shot his load across her ass and back.
Later we lay in bed in the darkness. She smelled of sex, and cum. I moved closer to her, burying my head in her hair and spooning my cock into her ass.
"Seeing how hot you got tonight; maybe we should invite Mitchell and his dick over next weekend," I suggested. "Would you like that?"
"Yes" she whispered.
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