To Be Seen, Or Not To Be Seen

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Adventures with an invisible man.
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English Bob
English Bob
2,416 Followers

Maybe it was the shock of seeing myself in the state that I was in - or wasn't - or not seeing myself - that caused me to pass out again, I don't know, but the next time I awoke it was with a feeling of impending doom.

The hours immediately subsequent to the explosion in the laboratory where I worked were extremely confusing. Dust floated thickly in the still air. I was disorientated. I could see parts of the room that weren't normally visible; thick snakes of exposed electrical cabling hung from the walls and plumbing pipes revealed their liquid contents to the naked eye. There seemed to be more windows than I had remembered; despite the dust, more light streamed into the room.

It was when the survival instinct kicked in that the shock of the situation struck me hardest. As my hands urgently felt over my limbs to check for injuries my mind began to reel. There was no pain - apart from a few bumps and bruises, there was no blood. In fact there was nothing at all! I could feel my body - everything seemed to be in the right place - but I couldn't actually see myself.

Cleaning the offices in the laboratory had seemed like a good job; I was a recovering alcoholic and any steady work was a step in the right direction. But I shouldn't have meddled in things I didn't understand. I'd been told that this top-secret section of the lab were experimenting with molecule acceleration, or some such thing, and that I should keep clear, but my curiosity had got the better of me and, as usual, got me into deep trouble. With the room empty I'd pressed buttons, turned switches and pushed levers. When lights started to flash and machinery began to groan into life I'd panicked and tried to back-track; recreate my actions in reverse. But I soon realised that, once started, I did not have the technical ability to stop it.

The explosion had still come as a shock, but once consciousness had been restored, I was more concerned about my eye-sight; although I could still clearly see everything else around me, my body pointedly refused to let me recognise it.

Slowly, the inevitable truth began to dawn on me. Bits of information I'd overheard about transparency, discarded diagrams and notes that I'd swept up in the lab; they all led to the same conclusion: I was there but I wasn't there - by some freakish accident I'd succeeded where all the scientists had failed. I'd made myself invisible!

What adolescent has never dreamed about being invisible? To be able to go where ever you want undetected, to get into movies for free, to listen in on private conversations without anyone knowing you're there. All these ideas and more came flooding through my mind. I was still a little scared, but I didn't know how long the effects would last - I was going to enjoy myself while I could!

For a few days I just wandered the city streets having fun. I rode buses and trains for free, I snuck into the best hotel rooms and I saw shows and movies by the score. But it wasn't until a young couple boarded the bus I was riding that I realised the true full potential of my predicament.

We were in midtown and I was sitting in a seat towards the back. The whole vehicle was empty apart from myself and the two youngsters and, obviously very drunk and thinking they were completely alone, they immediately began to fool around in front of me.

I had never thought about the voyeuristic aspect of my situation, but as the teenage girl bared her breasts and removed her date's cock from his pants and began greedily gobbling on it, I suddenly realised how much fun my invisibility could be - my wife had been saying she could see through me for years; now that was literally true!

Once I'd witnessed the young teenage girl suck her boyfriend off, it was time to get my next taste of undetected voyeurism, and so my next stop was the Metropol hotel.

The main doors were already open so I was able to walk right in. I stood in the centre of the bar area listening to conversations. Businessmen were chatting at one table - completely uninteresting. A group of young men by the bar; football and fast cars - equally dull. But in a corner booth an older couple deep in clandestine conversation - adultery? Much more like it!

Before long the couple adjourned to their room. I followed unseen and kept close to them as I sneaked in through the door. It didn't take them long. Almost as soon as they were in the room, clothes started to fall away until they were both completely naked. They fumbled together, touching, kissing, fondling. Their hands explored each others bodies as I looked on with a growing excitement. The man was fully erect and I had to stop myself from gasping as his lover dropped to her knees and wrapped her lips lovingly around his wide, bulbous cock head and began a slow, sensual blow-job.

I stayed with the couple as they made wild, passionate love for nearly two hours. They used all sorts of different positions; she started on top and her body writhed as he entered her wet pussy; her full breasts swaying as she gyrated. Then she was on her hands and knees while he rammed her from behind. I moved closer to see more detail and heard her gasp out loud as the man switched from her pussy and started to press his engorged weapon against the tight ring of her ass. She seemed in no discomfort as he penetrated her tightest of holes and eventually they both collapsed on the bed in a heap of orgasmic exhaustion.

As I finally left the hotel - quietly opening the door while the couple shared a shower - my thoughts turned to my own wife. I hadn't seen her for three days. I hoped that she had missed me, but realised that the truth was probably that she hadn't. Our marriage hadn't been too good recently and I expected that she just thought that I had gone off somewhere for a few days. But now I wanted to find her. I wanted her to be able to see (or not see) what I had accomplished with my misguided meddling's. I wanted to shock her!

Another free bus ride later and I found myself outside my apartment block. Jean's car was parked on the street so I guessed that she was in. As I stood and looked at the building, I was almost knocked down by the man that walked swiftly past me. I went to call out but caught myself just in time - I recognised the man as a co-worker from the lab, actually he was my boss, Clive. I was confused; what was Clive doing here at my apartment?

Quietly I followed him through the foyer and up the stairs towards my front door. He carried a six pack of beer that I know Jean likes and I instinctively knew that he was going to see her. My mind screamed when, instead of knocking, he used a key to enter my apartment.

"I'm back Jean," he called out, "and I brought more supplies with me!"

I could hear Jean moving about in the lounge. She called back, laughing "As long as you haven't brought Charlie back with you as well!"

I started at the sound of my name. What the hell was going on?

"No chance!" Clive replied, "they still haven't found him yet after the explosion at the lab. I guess he must still be walking around somewhere. Maybe he lost his memory!"

"Well, I don't think he'll remember this, anyway!" Jean said as Clive and I both entered the lounge.

I caught my breath as I looked at Jean. My wife was referring to her nakedness. Apart from black stockings and suspenders she was nude. She lay back on the sofa in a lewd, open legged pose.

"Now, that's what I'm talking about!" Clive cried excitedly as he dropped the beer on the counter and sat down next to her. "You really are one hot bitch aren't you, baby!"

"Yeah, and right now I'm your hot bitch! So get out of those clothes and give this fucking slut what she needs!"

I know I could have stopped it right there and then. I could have said something - I was still invisible, but there was nothing wrong with my voice. I could have shouted for them to stop; freaked them out with my disembodied words, but something kept me silent - something inside me wanted to watch.

As I stood there looking on, Clive was hurling his clothes to the floor in his haste to join my wife in her nakedness. My eyes bulged when he eventually lost his shorts and revealed one of the largest hard-on's I think I'd ever seen. He was only a quite small man in stature, but the size of his weapon made up for this plentifully. Jean seemed impressed as well, although from her wry smile, I quickly realised that this was not the first time she had seen it.

As if confirming my thoughts, Jean said, "Damn, Clive! Every time I see that big pole of yours it makes me so hot and wet! Here, feel for yourself!"

I watched as my wife guided Clive's hand towards her exposed cunt. With her legs spread so wide I could see that she was indeed really wet and my boss had no difficulty in sliding two fingers deep into her hot tunnel. She squealed as his thumb began to rotate briskly over her swollen clitoris and I saw her legs tremble and her stockinged toes curl as an obvious climax swept over her entire body.

"Come on, baby," Clive laughed, "time to give old Clive some lovin'"

"Ooohhh, yeah. This has got my name on it." Jean cooed as with trembling fingers she began to stroke the big cock that was being offered to her. "In fact, you could get my name and address on this huge thing!"

I watched my boss smile at the joke and lean back on the sofa, closing his eyes in glorious anticipation. Jean's fingers fondled and stroked the raging meat that she held as if her life depended upon Clive's complete satisfaction.

"Mmmm, yeah, baby," he moaned, "give it a little kiss, huh?"

Jean's wink was unseen by Clive as he still had his eyes tight shut, but he certainly felt the sensations as her lips closed over his glans and she drew him wetly into her hot mouth. Her head rose and fell, slowly at first and then building up to a steady rhythm as she blew him. Her hands cupped his large, heavy balls and tickled the sensitive underside as long, sensual slurping sounds emanated from her sucking lips. Clive's left hand went to the back of her head, encouraging her to take him deeper as his other hand sought out her exposed breasts and played with the turgid nipples, squeezing and plucking the swollen buds until Jean was moaning with lust deep in her throat.

The blow-job seemed to last for hours before Clive began to start breathing deeply and fast.

"Turn over, baby," his voice was ragged and harsh, "Let me stuff that sweet pussy of yours!"

Obviously more than willing to oblige, Jean released the thick weapon from between her lips and turned around so that she was kneeling on the sofa and facing the back. I watched as she turned her head and looked over her shoulder as Clive positioned himself behind her.

"Do it Clive, baby! Ram it up my pussy. Shove that big dick in my wet cunt!"

I had never heard my wife use such language before but as she spoke I could feel my own erection grow another notch in my pants - the words just sounded so nasty coming from her!

Clive thrust and they both groaned in unison as his thick meat entered Jean's slippery vagina. I could hear the wet noises of their lust as he began to fuck her steadily. His arms wrapped around her and seemed to use her tits for leverage as he thrust harder and harder, deeper and deeper. Jean was going out of her mind; cumming over and over again and throwing her head from side to side. Her sweat-matted, blonde hair swirled in great swathes around her shoulders and her back arched pushing her bottom out towards the rutting Clive so that she could feel more of him inside her.

"Mmmm, I'm gonna cum soon, baby," my employer moaned suddenly, "you want me to finish in your ass like I did last time?"

Jean seemed incapable of speech and simply grunted her consent, shaking her head wildly from side to side.

With a quick readjustment in position, Clive withdrew his long weapon and pressed the head against my wife's impossibly tight rear entrance. I heard her cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain as he leaned forwards and pushed hard. I moved closer still and watched in fascination as the tight hole seemed to widen visibly like a flower in bloom.

And then, suddenly, with a groan of satisfaction, Clive's cock head popped inside. Jean gasped and arched her back. Clive still had his hands on her tits and as he began to ream her ass expertly, he pulled and twisted on the engorged nipples causing Jean to cry out and climax yet again.

The inner muscle contraction following my wife's orgasm was too much for Clive to stand and with a low, guttural moan from deep within his throat he began to cum in her asshole. There must have been gallons of the stuff shooting up inside Jean's butt because I could see the overflow begin to leak from the tight hole and trickle in sticky rivulets down the insides of her thigh's.

But Clive had by no means finished with my slutty wife that day. His stamina was truly impressive and, after only a short break, he was ready to fuck her all over again. Jean didn't seem to be able to get enough of his hard meat and, at one point, with my boss thrusting his massive weapon between her ample tits and climaxing over her face, I had to go into the bathroom and jerk off - I wasn't sure if my cum would be visible and I didn't want to freak them out!

Clive and Jean's session of sex lasted well into the small hours that night. They fucked in every conceivable position and my wife used every possible part of her body to stimulate yet more ejaculations from her lover - at one time she even used her stocking covered toes as she slid them up and down his knobbly shaft. When he came on her feet, the contrast between his thick white semen and the black silk of her stockings was remarkably sexy.

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Clive eventually moved in with my wife. It seemed that, even though my body was never discovered, everyone believed that I had been killed in the lab explosion and life just went on without me. I don't think that I'll ever get my regular life back again, so to speak, but I've come to rather like my anonymity and the advantages it affords me.

So, people, bear this in mind: next time you are fucking somebody else's wife or sucking on the dick of your husband's best friend and you suddenly get the feeling that someone is watching you... IT COULD BE ME!!

English Bob
English Bob
2,416 Followers
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