tagExhibitionist & VoyeurA Husband's Control Is Lost

A Husband's Control Is Lost

byCoops812©

They really didn't know anyone there anymore – their friends Samantha and Brad had left the party an hour or two earlier, but Charles and his wife Natasha were still enjoying themselves and had continued to mingle with the other guests. Although the crowd had thinned out a bit, the atmosphere was pleasant and Charles felt quite comfortable in the dim interior of the large room.

Making his way to the small bar, Charles ordered another Scotch and looked around for his wife. He'd been talking to an older gentleman about the economic meltdown for some time and only now realised that he hadn't seen her for awhile. But she wasn't too far away from him – standing not more than ten metres away in a quiet corner, he spotted her, and Charles smiled with a mild sense of relief.

Picking up his drink, Charles discreetly watched his wife with more than a passing interest. Natasha had not been out to a party for quite a long time, and with the champagne flowing freely, she now appeared to be letting her hair down a little as she leaned back casually against a wall while two men standing quite close to her talked animatedly. Charles noted that the three of them still appeared quite oblivious of him checking them out at that moment from across the room, and he couldn't help but smile with pride – he thought his wife looked fantastically vibrant right at that moment, dressed in her low-waisted skirt and matching white top.

And Charles was right – his wife did look especially nice in her new outfit, bought recently, just for that evening...

Her skirt was of an unusual design consisting of cleverly layered white-chiffon, parts of which came well below her knees with variously shaped pieces of the almost sheer material overlapping randomly from the waist like oversized handkerchiefs – some were long – some quite short, giving the hem a staggered look. Although the neat waist of the skirt sat on her hips in a very low fashion, she was afforded some modesty, as it was trimmed with an intricate-lace that added around 10 centimetres to the height of the waist, so that in effect, it stopped just below her pierced belly button – it was more like a wide belt really, but because the lace was quite transparent, it was probably even more an alluring feature than had it not been there at all...

And her top – wow!

It was a beautifully-made camisole of an identical lace to that of her skirts waistband. Starting just above her belly button, leaving her tanned midriff exposed, it clung tightly beneath her breasts – almost like a bodice really. It gave her an almost voluptuous appearance that belied her quite modest endowment – and in the right light, it too was tantalisingly sheer. To top it off, Natasha's long, well-groomed, almost raven-coloured hair contrasted wonderfully with her white outfit – and the effect was quite appealing indeed!

Although Natasha was not beautiful by any stretch of the imagination – to Charles, at that moment, he thought that she looked gorgeous, and he certainly felt that he was a lucky man indeed to be still married to a woman who had, in his opinion, only improved with age like a classic red wine.

Sipping his Scotch, Charles felt a slight pang of jealousy when he noticed Natasha place a hand on the shoulder of one of the men and lean toward him rather closely as she laughed at what ever he was saying to her – while she still appeared to be oblivious to any scrutiny. Charles shook his head; he hadn't seen her like it in years – flirting with other men like a girl in her twenties! He smiled to himself; once he would have been pissed-off with her antics, but they had been married a long time, and he wanted her to have a bit of fun now – just harmless fun of course.

*

Finally, Natasha spotted her husband watching her, and she smiled back at him with a feigned look of innocence for a moment or two, before shifting her attentions back to the dark-haired gentleman standing in front of her. He seemed nice, she thought, Greg he'd said his name was – his friend was Jeff or something – she vaguely remembered...

Greg said something witty to her again, and she laughed spontaneously, barely noticing as his friend, Jeff, refilled her partly empty glass of champagne yet again from a bottle that was chilling in an ice-bucket nearby.

Natasha fondled her glass and sipped every few moments; she knew that she was getting more than a little bit inebriated – but she wasn't stupid – she was quite aware of what the two men were up to, and of course their lewd suggestions to her had merely confirmed it. Funnily though – now knowing her husband was watching from nearby gave her a desire to be just a little bit naughty – just for a change, and she shifted her right leg slightly, allowing her skirt to open partway and expose her shapely thigh while still resting her hand on Greg's shoulder...

Natasha could now feel the younger man's hot breathe play over her neck and waft up to her ear each time he whispered something to her – and it tickled and made her giggle.

She watched her husband as he watched her – and she smiled back at him and sipped on her champagne again, all the while listening as the two men's suggestions became cruder and cruder...

Natasha barely moved when she felt a hand rest lightly on the small of her back – soon to begin caressing her gently. Jeff filled her glass again – and again she sipped and listened. They had both commented on her dress of course – but now Jeff complemented her on her wonderful top too, and asked her if she knew that in the right light it was partially transparent – she shook her head, and laughed innocently that she didn't know.

Discreetly, the hand on her back moved little by little down to her bottom – and when Natasha felt one of her firm, round orbs being touched lightly, she quickly drank nearly half her glass of champagne in one gulp – but said nothing to deter the bold advances.

Natasha looked over at her husband again – and she wondered if he knew where the tall dark-haired young man now had his hand – she doubted it, and she smiled, before closing her eyes momentarily when she felt her flesh being explored through the thin material of her skirt.

*

Standing near the bar on his own, Charles watched his wife silently for a few minutes and finished his drink. The two men that were with her had moved in quite close and appeared to be taking it in turns to whisper into her ear. He was almost certain one of the men had his hand around his wife's back, as she moved her hips from side to side to the music – but he was not really sure.

For what was possibly only half a minute, Charles turned around to order another Scotch – but when he turned back around, his wife had gone – and so too had her friends!

Looking around with only mild alarm, he just caught a glimpse of her leaving the large room via the hallway close to where she had been standing – her admirers each clinging onto one of her bare arms as they led her away...

Charles smirked irksomely, but tried not to let it bother him. He'd give her a few minutes and then go and check on her, he thought.

* * *

"So where in the hell have you been?" Charles said to his wife, just a little too harshly.

Natasha looked at her husband bemusedly for a moment, "Just getting a bit of fresh air, honey... why, did you miss me?" she asked, as she raised her champagne glass and nearly emptied the contents.

Charles stood in the hallway looking down at his wife; her normally well-groomed long hair looked dishevelled and one of her camisole's spaghetti-straps hung down loosely off her tanned shoulder, allowing her cleavage to spill out even more.

"You've been gone long enough!" Charles exclaimed, "So where are your boyfriends?"

Natasha laughed; "My boyfriends?" she sipped from her glass again, "You're not a bit jealous... are you?"

Charles' mind was racing and he looked around briefly – they were on their own for the moment, but the music was loud and he wanted to talk to his wife – privately. Putting his arm around her slim waist, he walked her to a door not more than two metres away, and opening it, he led her inside. It was obviously someone's bedroom, but no-one else was in there at that moment.

"Oooh... sooo do you want a bit, too?" Natasha chuckled, as she placed her arms loosely around her husband's neck.

Charles' reaction was immediate – just as she'd expected. His jaw dropped and his eyes opened as wide as dinner plates, and he gripped her wrists firmly and removed her arms from his neck!

"Tash... you've gotta be kiddin' me?" Charles said, his anxiety levels peaking at his wife's lewd innuendo.

She said nothing for a moment – just looked up at her husband sheepishly, while a crooked smile slowly parted her lightly rouged-lips, "Kidding you? About what, honey?" she asked, pouting seductively.

Charles took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. He had not seen his wife like this in years – but it appeared to him that the long absent cock-teaser had suddenly resurfaced! "I wanna know what happened? Why in the fuck do you look messed up?"

Natasha wobbled slightly as she looked up at her husband, "Le's sit on the bed, honey... mmm? My legs are getting tired in these blasted high-heels you made me wear..." she suggested as she finished her champagne and dropped the flute onto the thick-carpeted floor carelessly.

"I want to know, Tash!" he said sternly.

"Okay then... I'll tell you..." she said huskily, and then gripping her husband's hands in hers, she pulled him backward toward the large bed in the middle of the room and sat on the edge, her slender form barely ruffling the black-silken sheets.

Charles stood in front of her – his hands on his hips, "Well?"

"Well... umm... let's see... well, the tall one...you must have noticed him when you were perving on me..."

"Perving on you? I was merely fuckin' admiring my wife, thankyou!" Charles snapped, his irritation starting to rise markedly, "What about the prick, anyway?"

"Prick? Oooh dear... that's a bit nasty," Natasha said tartly, "His name is Greg... and he's a successful chartered accountant... and..." she hesitated.

"And what?"

"Well... he was nice... and I think he liked me..." Natasha said dreamily, as she lay herself down on the soft bed, allowing her arms to flop back behind her head.

Charles looked down at his wife – she was certainly more than half drunk now, he noted – something of which was a very rare occurrence indeed these days. He tried to remain calm, as the onset of years had taught him wisely – but he was struggling with it – he could feel his jealous anger growing like a monster inside of him with her not-so-subtle teasing.

"...in fact... I'm sure he liked me, Charles," she said as she raised her knees till the heels of her white shoes rested on the bed.

"So what makes you say that?" he asked, watching her moving around on her back sensuously from side to side, her eyes partly closed.

"Well... why else would he take me out to show me his old car... some Mustang or something like that?" Natasha said softly, "You would probably like it, hon... it was really... really nice."

Charles grunted, "So is that it?"

"Umm... well... not really, he showed me how the seats go back. You know there's not much room in those coupe thingies?"

"Is that right?" Charles said, now wondering how far she was going to embellish the truth. Natasha may have been a notorious flirt in her younger days, but one thing he was certain of was – she was no promiscuous whore! He was now starting to suspect that she was just teasing him.

"Uh hah... and even less room when there are three people in the front of a car with only two little bucket seats!" she quantified, just as she allowed her knees to fall apart slightly – the hems of her skirt falling either side of her thighs at the same time.

"Greg's mate?"

"What?

"The third person in the car with you... the other one that took you outside."

"Um... yep... Jeff or something... and there was little me stuck in the middle with a silly little gear-knob between my legs."

Charles sighed; he'd just about had enough of her little game, "So what then? I suppose they both tried to fuck you, did they?"

Natasha looked up at her husband with mock horror, "Try? Did they try?" she smiled at him lewdly, "Do you really wanna know?"

"Of course I want to know," he answered.

"If I tell you... promise you aren't going to be mad... promise?"

"Promise," Charles said, as he looked down at her and smiled. He was certain she was playing with him now, hell, she had probably messed her hair up herself just to give him a fright.

"Well... how about you tell me... mmm?" Natasha purred, as she ran her hands down her sides till she reached her legs... then began inching her skirt up her thighs.

Charles shook his head and smirked at his wife's almost juvenile little game, "So what are you going to show me?"

Gradually Natasha moved her feet apart on the edge of the bed till her legs were open... while her hands continued to work the hem of her skirt up toward her hips.

The light from the lamp next to the bed was not all that good – but it was good enough, and soon he could see between his wife's firm thighs. Then his heart skipped a beat, just as Natasha raised her skirt the last few centimetres and parted her thighs!

Charles stared down at his wife's panty-less pudenda as it came into full view! Her lovely little triangle of dark, close-cropped pubic hair shone almost as radiant in the dim light, as her normally well-groomed head of long hair...

And suddenly, Charles began to wonder; his stomach churning with anxiety.

He looked from his wife's pretty little pussy up to her face. She was smiling at him.

"Tash... what the... where the... Tash, where the fuck are your knickers?"

Natasha knew she had him now. Only moments before she had detected his smug look – the look that told her she had not fooled him – but now he looked really alarmed!

"Umm... I think they're hanging from the mirror of that old car..." she said, pulling her knees back even further.

Charles' heart-rate had almost doubled – maybe she was telling him the truth! Quickly, he glanced back down at his wife's pussy and almost inexplicably he felt his loins tingle at the erotic sight of her lying there on some stranger's bed, with her legs spread open wantonly.

"Umm... are you going to do me too?" Natasha asked him.

Charles gulped, his anxiety levels had gone through the roof – but his cock had rapidly grown hard. His wife's slit, although noticeably puffy-looking, did not look like it had just been fucked – of that he was quite certain – but it was certainly about to be!

Hastily, Charles unbuckled his pants and released his erection and Natasha smirked knowingly as he moved closer to the bed. She reached next to her to grab a large pillow, and then raising her butt up off the bed, she pulled the remainder of her skirts hem up to her waist and poked the pillow under her bottom – this she knew would give her husband far better penetration – just the way she liked it...

* * *

The two men wandered around the large house for a few minutes longer still looking for her – but it was to no avail, they both thought that she must have left.

"Fuckin' cock-teaser's gone, I reckon Greg," Jeff surmised.

Greg looked pissed-off – it had been close. He knew she was married, but that had only attracted him to her more – yep, the rings on her finger, and that beautiful long dark hair that framed an almost angelic-face. Yep, all that – and of course her great tits!

"I'll go and ask Gus on the door if she's gone, wait here," Greg said to his friend as he walked off.

Leaning against the hallway wall, Jeff put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a tiny piece of lace. He looked down at the ivory-coloured material and brought it up to his nose – yes, the scent of a woman! Fucking delicious!

Jeff watched his friend talking to the big, old doorman, and he thought about how close they had both come to fucking the attractive brunette – and he mused at how gullible she appeared when Greg had asked her if she wanted to look at his '67 'Stang. She'd agreed with only moderate persuasion, and they'd both led her outside, past a few other guests in the yard, some of whom had merely looked on with mild amusement at the two bachelors' antics as they disappeared with her into the garage...

She had said nothing when Greg had placed his hand on her butt as they stood admiring his pride and joy – and she had just giggled a little when Greg had worked his hand between the folds of her skirt, till he touched her bare flesh.

Getting her into the car was easy, Jeff remembered – but doing anything with her once inside was pretty fucking hopeless! Still, she had let them both feel her up for a bit – but then she said she had to go to the loo – and she said she'd be back!

Jeff snickered to himself as he pictured the recent memory; neither Greg nor himself would hop out of the car to let her go easily – and because of the car's steering wheel in front of Greg, she had instead climbed over him as he sat in the reclined passenger seat – laughing at her predicament, as she struggled to get out of the vehicle...

With one of her long legs outside the car, she had paused momentarily to dislodge her other foot and she'd sat fair over Jeff's thighs – her skirt parting to her hips to expose her little lacy panties. Jeff had shot his hands up her thighs and hooked his fingers into the dainty material – just as she got herself free and pulled away, and the fine lace had given way easily – and Jeff had caught more than a glimpse of her exquisite slit as she'd finally extricated herself from the car – with him still clutching her torn underwear!

Jeff watched his friend walk back toward him and he shoved the woman's knickers back into his pocket.

"She's still here!" Greg stated, "We'll check the bedrooms... maybe she's waiting for us in one of them?"

* * *

Charles continued to thrust himself between his wife's thighs, and the large bed squeaked and rocked almost amusingly with his valiant efforts...

Looking down at Natasha's face, he smiled at her recent teasing – she'd really had him going for awhile. Fuck, she could be a horny bitch sometimes, he thought, as he ploughed his cock deeply into her moist warmth.

He could feel her own excitement growing with each hard grind... but then suddenly he felt her tense up unexpectedly.

"Stop... hon... stop... we've got guests!" Natasha said in sudden angst.

"What!" Charles exclaimed in alarm. Because they were lying sideways on the bed with the bedroom door behind his back, he had not noticed anyone come into the room. Quickly looking over his shoulder, Charles saw two men standing not more than a metre away from the bed – watching them! The two men that his wife had been talking to earlier!

"Hey, do you blokes' mind!" Charles said angrily, instantly noticing the bemused looks on their uninvited guests' faces.

"Do we mind? Hey buddy... you're fucking our girlfriend on my fuckin' bed!" Greg responded calmly, "But don't worry... I don't mind."

"She's my wife, pal, not your fuckin' girlfriend!" Charles snapped.

Natasha just lay there unmoving, biting her lip; oddly enough, she now felt instantly guilty getting caught having sex with her husband by the very two men she had been with not more than fifteen minutes before.

"Yeah whatever... but for Christ's sake keep fucking her, mate, don't let us stop you... ya looked like you were having fun!" Jeff suggested crudely.

"Yep... go for it... she looks like she needs a good one!" Greg piped in, "And we'll just watch ya's, okay?"

It was a bizarre situation for sure, Charles thought, but he could not deny his lust for his wife at that moment – and he could almost swear she was still willing. Charles flexed his hips again and looked at Natasha – and she closed her eyes submissively...

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