And He Watched Us

Cat was equally nervous. 'There was no way out now was there?' She was thinking as Richard opened the door to the suite and ushered her, then Grant into the surprisingly well appointed suite. She guessed they would soon have dinner, but that was the only part of the proceedings that had been agreed. Her nerves got worse when she wondered how they would start, whether Grant, or maybe Richard, would undress her, or whether Richard would try to persuade her to do striptease as had done on several' occasions in the past? She even wondered if the 'etiquette' for such an experience was topless or even naked dining; she had heard from some friends who were into swinging that in their circle it was.

As the waiter handed them menus and gave them each a glass of champagne while they stood on the balcony looking out over the busiest international airport in the world, inwardly Cat was imploring Richard to change his mine and let her off the hook. She knew, though that was absolutely no bloody chance of that especially when she heard him saying.

"We're both so pleased you could join us this evening Grant."

"Just pleased to be here," the 'boy' as Cat was beginning to think of him, replied.

Richard lifted his glass. "Well here's to a wonderful evening for us all."

Cat saw Grant automatically lift his glass to toast the evening and, somewhat reluctantly she did the same.

Dinner was a stilted affair, even though the food was surprisingly good. It was as if all three realised the scale of what lie just ahead. Richard called room service to remove the dinner things and bring some and water, together with a bottle of single malt, Glenmorangie Scotch, a tipple that both she and Richard appreciated from time to time.

The bar set up, the dinner things removed, the lights from the busy A4 being the only illumination in the sitting room of the suite and the sight of Heathrow's lights and the aircraft taking off and landing being their vista, they sat there waiting.

Several times as they again made idle chit chat, Cat wanted to leave the room and forget the whole crazy idea. She stared at her husband silently imploring him to stop this, but he looked away.

Richard was comfortable and relaxed in pretty much all circumstances. He was nearly always the controller and the director of meetings, the persuader and influencer. Yet here with an eighteen year old golf pro and his wife, he didn't know what to do. He refilled their glasses, talked about golf and the airport and just generally let the situation meander.

Again fate intervened as it often did for Richard.

"That was a wonderful dinner, Richard, I really enjoyed thank you," Grant said glancing from Cat to her husband and back again.

"You're most welcome Grant," Richard replied neutrally.

Neither Cat nor Richard could hardly believe that they then heard Grant simply say.

"What now then?" As he looked from Cat to Richard. And that solved the dilemma.

"Well I guess Grant you should start by sitting next to Cat, yes Cat?"

Cat's heart really did start to pound then. She stammered, "Yes I suppose so."

After the dinner, she had sat on and overstuffed six-seater sofa while the two guys had slumped into matching chairs either end of the sofa; the chairs and sofa being arranged round a smoked glass and gun metal grey metal coffee table in the middle of which was a beautiful display of fresh, gorgeous smelling lilies.

Grant got up and sat next to Cat, close to her. She was sitting in the middle of the end cushion, the one closer to where her husband was seated. Grant sat on the next cushion. They both turned towards the other. He smiled, Cat thought that was nice. He raised his eyebrows and said.

"Ok Cat?"

"Yes," she replied looking from Grant to Richard and back to the 'boy' again.

He moved closer, his eyes were locked on hers that nice considerate smile continuously on his face. He leaned forward placing his right hand on Cat's left shoulder. He applied a little pressure. She went with it and slowly their faces closed the gap between them.

****

Watching his wife being kissed by the teenager ranked with the most erotic sights Richard had ever seen, and on his world travels he had seen many. He had no idea why it was or why he had this big thing about seeing Cat with another man. But then Richard was a complicated man in all ways including sex. His background of an English public school, then Oxford, into law school then a major global legal firm, with rugby and cricket at early stages and then golf later as his sports was very much a male dominated situation.

He had dabbled in most 'diversions' as he preferred to call such experiences as humiliation, domination, S & M, orgies, threesomes and the like. He didn't see himself as being bisexual, just sexual, but he had also enjoyed a number of mild gay experiences, mutual masturbation at gay saunas, being sucked and sucking and, of course, being massaged to a climax by another man.

This desire to see Cat with another guy had been building up for several years. At the same time he had also started fantasising about seeing her with another woman and had resolved that if this worked with Grant then that would be his next objective.

He had no idea, however, how he would go about finding another woman and doubted he could be so lucky as he had been with Grant.

How he had suppressed his excitement between finalising the arrangements with Grant and now, Richard had no idea, but the very day he did finalise things he rang Cat to say he would be home early, something that just never happened.

"I've got great news and I want to tell you right away," he said quietly into his mobile phone from his office in the Barbican.

"What is it?" Cat asked.

"I'm coming home now so please wait."

"That's not fair," she replied having no real idea what it could be.

"Maybe not but it will be fair when I get there, so put on something really sexy."

"We going out then?" Cat asked becoming even more confused.

"Oh no very much staying in so when I say put something on, I don't mean very much."

That was how he broke the news to his wife an hour or so later when he fucked her in the hallway of their house with her bent forward over a table her black thong pushed to one side and her tits pulled out from the tight cupped black bra he had bought her from AP some time ago.

Cat didn't see her husband for a few days after the announcement. He had a trip round the firm's European offices that took from a Sunday afternoon until the following Thursday. They did speak on the phone every day and he continually referred to how good it was going to be with Grant and how he just knew they would both enjoy it. They even, for the first time in probably ten years, had phone sex.

"It's just what our marriage needs at this time," he had pronounced in a very lawyer fashion.

Cat wasn't convinced of that. She wasn't at all sure that their marriage needed it, but she was pretty sure she wanted it. Wanted what, she asked herself frequently whilst Richard was away? Certainly another man, again the difference thing surfaced, she wanted something new. That urge, however, she was pretty sure she could contain. What was becoming more difficult and wasn't helped by seeing such films as Notes on a Scandal and The Reader, reading about women with younger guys and having a tennis friend whisper that she was shagging Andre, the sexiest young tennis coach at the club, was her desire to have a younger man. Was that a typical thing? Did all or most women go through such a phase? Was it simply natural or was she in a minority? She had no idea, but several times that week when she was alone at home she found herself imagining being with a younger man, not necessarily Grant, with the inevitable consequences, a heavy masturbation session. Each time they were the same, it was just the locations of where she masturbated that were different, the conservatory, on the carpet in the lounge, on their bed or on one of the loungers by the pool.

Cat knew she had a tendency to be obsessive. When she started something such as learning to play golf or collecting things such as eighteenth century English porcelain, she really went for it heart and soul. As she pushed her boobs back into her bra, pulled her thong up and smoothed her skirt back into place after a particularly strong vibrator induced orgasm in her conservatory, she shuddered at the thought that she might become obsessive about fucking young men.

She also shuddered, well shivered with guilt and apprehension actually, at the other dark thoughts going through her mind as she had sex with herself, for not all the lithe, firm bodies were faceless. One she saw very clearly indeed.

****

Grant was gentle, surprisingly adept at kissing and unlike many men he was patient, amazingly so for a teenager. His lips firstly softly touched Cat's almost enquiringly after their faces had completely closed the gap between them, Cat turning hers to one side just as their mouths met. She let his lips brush against hers for a short time before feeling them fully engulf her lips. They kissed, closed mouthed like that for a few moments as, like any new lovers, they got used to each other. Cat couldn't help glancing towards Richard several times.

She was intrigued, albeit a little disappointed, at how aroused and interested he looked. But she had felt that almost continuously since he had first put to her the idea of letting him watch her with another man. Try as she might she just couldn't comprehend the reasoning behind why a husband would want to watch his wife having sex with another man, especially a much younger one, especially, she had thought many times since Richard had told her about Grant, a man young enough to have been their son.

She felt his tongue touching her lips, probing and again enquiring. 'God they do get good young these days' she thought opening her mouth, effectively accepting his enquiry. His tongue snaked inside at the same time as he started to ease her backwards into the corner of the sofa. She was lying almost flat. Grant was half on top and half to one side of her, his chest was squashing her left boob, his stomach and crotch were pressed against the outside of her left, upper thigh and her hip. Her feet were still on the floor and her legs were bent at the knees, her skirt, being knee-length, she thought was pretty much still in place.

She suddenly realised that her arms had gone round Grant's neck and she was pulling his face towards hers. It hit her that she had done that without even thinking about it. She felt guilty. She glanced across at her husband. He was leaning forward his eyes focused on them, he had a slight smile on his face, he seemed to be transfixed; he was certainly enjoying it she thought.

As indeed he was; more actually than he had imagined he would. Whilst he'd had this urge to see Cat with another man for ages, there was, however, still that nagging thought at the back of his mind as to how he would actually feel when his woman gave herself to someone else; would he feel jealousy? He didn't think so, but worried that he might. Now, though, seeing his wife's body underneath that of the young golf pro's, there was no jealousy, just excitement and arousal.

Grant had no idea why this guy who had seen at the driving range a few times had picked him out, for that is what he'd done. Grant hadn't approached him. Sure he had seen him a few times and was actually quite impressed with his swing, not quite as much as he was impressed with his wife who had seen once, but nonetheless Richard seemed like a nice bloke and looked to be a pretty good golfer. Grant had been amazed though, when as good as 'out of the blue,' Richard had asked if he would like to sleep with his wife. He was even more amazed when, after saying that of course he would, half thinking that he was joking, Richard had said "I'll pay your normal lesson rate, forty pounds an hour isn't it?"

After the arrangements had been made, Grant had been nervous and not a little apprehensive. "I'm becoming a fucking gigolo," he'd said to himself as he was getting ready to drive out to the hotel at Heathrow to meet them. He thought it pretty incongruous that, along with most of the golf pros at the range, he spent most of his time hoping for pretty, older women to come along as clients so he could try his luck, and out of the blue he was offered one. Very odd.

As he walked into the hotel he was trying to recall just what Cat looked like, for he had only seen her briefly at the range. He remembered she had nice, shoulder length, fairly straight hair that was like an ash blonde in colour. He recalled that she was pretty, but that her face was showing the signs of her age with the wrinkles round her eyes and lips. Slimmish and above average height he recalled, she looked to have a good figure but in her loose golf jacket he hadn't been able to have a good look. It was, therefore, a really pleasant surprise and a great pleasure when she stood up from her chair in the bar in the hotel to shake hands with him and he saw the impressive mounds inside the blue sweater. It was an even greater pleasure when, after they had laid back into the corner of the sofa and had been kissing for a few minutes, he cupped her right breast inside the sweater. The luxuriant softness of the cashmere combined with the sensual fullness of her breast was a heady cocktail, which immediately completed the erection, which had been forming from the moment he had joined her on the sofa.

It was the feel of Grant's hand on her breast that symbolised so stringently and indicated so clearly just why they were here and what they were about to do. That she was about to be fucked in front of her husband hit Cat really hard.

She stopped kissing him and her body went taught. She felt so full of conflict. A middle class, married woman, a mother of two, the wife of an eminent lawyer, a shareholder and part time employee of a highly respected publishing house, a respected member of several clubs and the local community laying on a sofa in a hotel with a young bloke's hand cupping her breast as they prepared themselves for sex. As they got ready for full sex, full penetrative sex, full and complete sex with that woman's husband sitting just feet away watching his wife get fucked by the young man. 'It's so wrong' she thought to herself as Grant held her wondering what was happening. 'I can't go through with it' she mused. Then, contradicting herself as her hands which were still on his back felt his lithe, muscular, youthful body and his wonderfully hard cock pressed against her hips, she wanted him so badly. Was it him? Was it Grant or was it any young man? Did she just want the thrill of being fucked by a young, so virile, man or was there more to her fantasising she wondered as her body relaxed again and she lightly pressed her impressively full breast back against his pleasure giving hand. Feeling that, Grant squeezed and that made Cat moan softly.

Grant sensed that Cat was having doubts about this. He had picked up vibes to that effect in the bar and at dinner; it was clearly more Richard's baby than hers. In a way he felt slightly sorry for her, but at the same time he fancied her like hell and now having had a taste, and a feel he thought squeezing her delicious breast again, of her, he badly wanted to go all the way. At heart, he was a nice guy though. He had been brought up to respect others and he was a sensitive and caring person. He didn't want to put Cat through anything she didn't want to go through. If they were to have sex, it had to be them having it, not him

"Are you ok?" He whispered so that Richard probably couldn't hear.

"Yes, I am," she quietly replied.

"Cat, if at any time you want to stop please tell me, I don't want to do anything unless it's ok with you. Ok?"

Cat felt very touched by that and whispered.

"Thanks Grant, I think it'll be ok."

They kissed again and he replaced his hand on her extremely squeezable right boob.

Richard hadn't been able to hear what had gone on between them, but guessed it was along the lines that had happened. He was worried that Cat would back out and guessed that Grant would be accommodating, yet probably persuasive. As usual his legal mind was correct, but it hadn't worked out what happened next.

The little exchange with Grant boosted Cat's self confidence and her self esteem, she stopped feeling as if she was being used and felt more an integral part of the proceedings. Thinking 'in for a penny in for a pound' she mentally committed herself to the strange, but now becoming hugely exciting situation.

She stopped kissing him. She pushed him so he was upright as she said.

"Hold on a sec." She sat upright and, after looking from Grant to Richard and then back to the young man and holding his gaze, she reached down and took the hem of the blue sweater in her hands. She again alternated her glance between the two men and then slowly started to lift the sweater up her upper body.

Both men looked on mesmerised as time seemed to stand still while the thin, luxurious material rode up Cat's body. She was playing for thrills, she knew that. She was titillating Grant, teasing him and, at the same time exciting both him and her and, by extension, her husband as well. She was doing what lovers do to each other. And that was boosting her confidence and committing herself more and more to having sex with the young man as her husband looked on. The men watched her varnished, but not painted, perfectly manicured nails slowly, so inexorably slowly ease the bottom of the sweater upward; over the remainder of her waist, above the black skirt, up her lower chest, onto and over the swell of her black bra and then across her breasts. Grant jerked and muttered. "Oh my God," when he saw her full creamy breasts squashed into the flimsy, probably a size too small, black bra, They were spilling out of it in the most tempting manner the tops pushed together forming such a delicious cleavage that he immediately wanted to plunge his tongue as deeply into it as he could. Then, thinking slightly more laterally, he realised that it wasn't just his tongue that he would like to shove between her full tits.

The hem kept rising over Cat's upper chest as the rest of the sweater covered her face and hair. Then it stopped, but he didn't care for right in front of his eyes, just inches away from his face was the most gorgeous pair of full tits in the tiny black bra.

"Oh shit," they both heard Cat say.

"What's up?" Grant asked.

"I forgot to take those bloody pearls off and I can't get the sweater off," she replied shaking her arms and pulling with her hands.

"Hold on," Grant said leaning forward to help.

"No, let me," Richard snapped, standing up and moving over behind his wife. He put his hands into the tangled blue cashmere hunting for the string of Majorcan pearls. He looked at Grant. "Leave it to me."

"Ok great," Grant replied, moving his gaze from Richard's face to his wife's breasts. Richard smiled as he also looked at Cat's chest. This was all unbeknown to Cat whose vision was limited by the cashmere around her head."

"After all Grant, you've got other things you can occupy your hands with," he said nodding at Cat's tits."

Smiling, Grant reached out towards them as he looked at Richard and raised his eyebrows enquiringly. "Yes?" He asked.

Richard nodded and the young man cupped each of Cat's breasts in his hands.

Cat jumped when she felt Grant's hands on her breast. She jumped firstly with surprise, but also with pleasure. Her breasts were highly sensitive all over and in her aroused state they were even more so. But it wasn't just the young man's squeezing of them that made the situation so exciting. It was also being, in a way, blindfold, well at least visually impaired, by her sweater. It was also having her arms partially restrained by the garment and it was also her husband's close proximity as he struggled to release her. The combination of these and Grant's low sighing and Richard asking "Nice?" all merged into a cocktail of events that were surprisingly arousing to her and, in different ways to both men. The sensation as the young man's hands found her breasts were heightened by the delicate thinness of the hugely expensive bra. Bought from the Lejaby catalogue online it was quite amazing how such a pretty much diaphanous, seemingly flimsy garment could provide her with the modicum of support that her forty three year old, child suckled, full D cup breasts now required.