Winging It

What would you be thinking if you saw your wife in the arms of another woman? It's shocking, they're no denying it, shocking to see the two bodies so stiff and rigid leaning into each other, uncertain, tentative and more shocking still when you see those two soft warm bodies start to relax and meld closer together, almost fusing together and it's more shocking still when you see your wife's familiar ringed fingers moving up and down the silk blouse of her lover. I don't know what you'd be thinking but I'll tell you what I was thinking, it's odd but it's true, I was feel a touch of pride that my wife was making all this happen and I was feeling unbelievably turned on, too, way too turned on to just sit and watch and let my sexual feeling envelope me, as they were so obviously enveloping Bill. I turned to him, "Do you have any beer?"

He didn't look at me when, slowly stroking, he said, "In the fridge."

"Want one?" I said, getting to my feet.

"Sure."

"I'll help." Gloria led me to the kitchen and reached into the fridge. "Are you having a hard time with me?" she twisted off the cap and handed me the beer, her eyes locked onto mine.

I laughed, "It's like when you're out at a restaurant and you've ordered chicken and the waiter puts a steak in front of you: I mean the steak may well be great but your taste buds are all set-up for the chicken."

Her grey eyes showed no humour, "I'm the steak?"

"No offense," I took a pull at the beer.

"But you have a choice, don't you? You can send the steak back and get your chicken or you can shrug and risk biting into the steak."

I nodded, the woman really was quite striking, "Yes, I know, that's where I am right now: I'm at the table wondering precisely what I'll do, ask for the chicken or, now that it has been offered, try the steak, which, quite frankly, looks pretty good."

"So it's a tough decision?"

Ya, right, "Do you really go into their bedroom and watch them have sex?"

"Do you have a hard time with that?"

'Do you have a hard time with that?' — it's the second time she's said that; I knew she was trying to put me on the defensive, as if I was supposed to explain myself but I didn't bite, instead, I tore a page out of my wife's playbook and went on the the attack, "Why do you do it? For the reasons you gave: you like to watch them have sex but you like them to watch you masturbate even more?"

"That, and I keep on hoping they'll ask me to get in bed with them but they haven't yet and I guess I know they won't."

"Yet you still watch them."

"Hope springs eternal," her lips smiled but her eyes didn't, "and besides, it isn't as if I have other opportunities."

This has been the nut of the problem all night, "Of course you have other opportunities, and merely snapping your fingers will create them."

She shrugged but didn't say anything.

"Are you telling me that you can't stop off at a club on the way home from work or class, saunter up to the bar and snap your fingers at the first swarthy stud you see, a stud who'd love nothing more than to fuck your brains out."

The steely grey eyes became a lot more fiery, "I married a man who fucked my brains out, I don't need another — that's the truth." She snapped her fingers, "If I do that, I want it to be at a loving couple like you and Janet," she snapped her fingers, "If I do that, I want to feel what it's like to be with two people who obviously love each other," she snapped her fingers, "If I do that, I want to feel what they do to each other, I want to hear what they laugh about — I want to get a sense of what love is all about because the way it stands now I'm just a fucked-up frightened girl who knows more about rejection at 24 than I should in a lifetime."

This really surprised me, "Rejection? By the Jensen's?"

"And their son, and my parents, and my only other boy friend, and my church when I had the abortion, and ... well, the list goes on. I even lost out on being my high school validictorium because they thought I'd be too fucking political. If I was a battery, Frank, I'd be on absolute empty."

"And you think that Janet and I, by bringing you into our bed, can recharge you?"

"By bringing me into your life ... and bed, yes. Does that surprise you?"

I was going to say yes but then my wife was in the other room making out with the hostess whose husband ... was waiting for a beer. "I'm surprised, Gloria, ya, you could say that but ..."

"Don't reject me, Frank, please, let me in your world."

"This isn't about acceptance or rejection, Gloria, it's only about sex."

She laughed at this, "Spoken like a man who goes home every night to a loving woman. All sex has string attached to it, Frank. Do you know why I want to be in that room and on that couch where Sandy is right now?"

"With Janet?"

"If I was there making out with Janet I'd be creating a bond with her. When those two get off that couch, Janet and Sandy are going to be best friends for life, count on it. It could have been me and it still can. Let me in, Frank."

"But why us? I still don't get that, I mean I know we're irresistibly attractive but ..."

"I've already answered that, you two obviously really love each other ..."

"Sure, but millions of couples obviously love each other."

"Yes, but how many of those million do I know and how many of the ones that I do are willing to bring complete strangers into their bed like you and Janet are doing tonight?" She reached back into the fridge and came out with two more beers, uncapped them both and then handed them to me while taking my empty. "Will you just think about it?"

"Will I think about allowing a very attractive 24 year old woman into my marriage bed? Oh, OK, I guess so," I laughed and turned for the living room.

But when I got there I didn't sit back down in my chair, instead, I put Bill's beer on the arm of his chair, noticing that he was still slowly stroking and I stared at the sight on the couch. It looked at first as if they hadn't moved much since I left except that Janet's foot was now on the couch and Sandra's fingers was caressing Janet's red panties and now I could see my wife's face because Sandra's face was pressing against Janet's blouse at her breast, and now Janet was smiling at me. I was about to sit down, my knees were threatening to buckle, when Janet said, "Give me a hand here, will you?"

Uncertainly, I walked over and stood over them unsure of what she would have me do.

"We need our clothes off, Frank."

I knew that with her request my wife was saying that I had been a spectator for far too long, she wanted to draw me into the tryst and I loved her for that but I didn't particularly want to go, too many cooks and all that, but I did sit down beside her to do specifically and only what she had requested and I kissed her before I began. Then I steeled my nerves and reached for my wife's blouse button.

"No, take Sandra's blouse off, Frank."

I was stunned. I had been riding along more or less in control of my emotions and action, now this: the demand shocked me, stunned me for a moment then, for some odd reason it reminded me of something that had happened to me just a few months before: I had been playing Texas Hold'em with some friends, just floating along building up my winnings, expecting ultimately to win it all when some prick said 'I'm all in'. With my two Queens I felt fairly confident but I was scared, too, the prick could wipe me out but I called him anyway but the moment the river card came up I knew I was fucked, so this feeling of an absolute loss of control from a position of relative strength was familiar to me, but it didn't make it any easier.

But Sandra did. She rolled off my wife and sat back beside her with her arms at her side and that little knowing smile on her face, a smile that wasn't changing much during the two minutes of my paralysis. "You don't have to do this, Frank," she said, "I know how to do it myself, I've done it before." Her smile was growing and it was softening me.

"Frank has done it before, too, Sandy. I want him to do it."

I was going to look back at Bill, to seek his approval but how much more permission did I need, and how big a chicken shit was I? I reached out and when I took hold of her top button I was glad to see that my fingers weren't shaking, even after Sandra's fingers landed on mine, stroking them encouragingly.

From the moment I first saw her I knew I liked Sandra, and it wasn't just that coy little smile of hers, either. She has a pretty, intelligent face, not beautiful, more pleasant and kind, with shoulder length curly brown hair, a high forehead, smart eyes, a long thin nose between surprisingly high cheekbones and a nice chin beneath that trade-mark smile. And her body seemed to suit her perfectly: sight unseen, it appears healthy without being noticeably over-weight as if she ate well but pushed away from the table at just about the right time. The fact that she was attractive and sexy made it easier. And so did her confidence. The face that was studying me was not the face of a victim; she was precisely where she wanted to be — all five of us knew that, knew that she wanted me to take her clothes off.

Still, I was scared, that's the word for it and really hesitant, so much so that the voice to my right said, "Kind of reminds you of 1st year college, doesn't it Sandra?" Then Janet was kneeling beside me, helping me undo Sandra's buttons and when Sandra leaned forward it was Janet who took her blouse off, then my wife sat back with a laugh and said, "You're on your own now, buster."

Feeling (and being treated) like a school boy was pissing me off so I stuffed my timidity and reached behind her to undo her bra. I think she did it on purpose, she waited until my arms encircled her, my cheek pressed against hers and my fingers wedged between her back and the couch when she said, "The clasp is on the front."

I heard Bill laugh, it was a fun laugh with no edge to it, so when I pulled my hands away I looked back at him and said, "You could have been a little more helpful, you probably bought the damn thing." He laughed at this, too, as if he was enjoying the whole act, but not as much as the earlier one because his fingers were now around his beer can and his prick had fallen asleep in his lap.

I've always found women's underwear to be a real turn-on, it is my one big fetish and one that Janet constantly feeds. When my fingers found the clasp, Janet protested before I undid it, "Squeezer her first, Frank, kiss them like you kiss mine, treat her like she's me."

It's at that moment that my 'fuck it' switch turned to 'on', Sandra really filled that bra and there appeared to be real excitement filling her eyes. I slid to the floor, quickly found the clasp on Sandra's skirt and as she pushed herself up from the couch with her hands, I pulled her skirt off and I watch her settle back in front of me, with her confident, knowing smile and her yellow partially see-through bra and panties, so vivid against her pale white skin.

And then I felt more than saw the pale white skin kneel beside me and Bill started in on my wife's blouse with fingers that were not only confident but fast because I could see Janet's rose coloured bra even before I fully realized that Bill was wearing nothing and before I realized that the arms encircling my waist and the fingers undoing my belt were owned by the fifth member in the room, the 24 year old.

OK, so I'm a little slow, but Bill sure wasn't and nor was Janet. While Bill was taking off her blouse, Janet was pushing off her skirt, they were in a kind of frantic frenzy and it was fascinating and not just to me, either, Sandra's eyes were no longer on me, and the fingers that had been undoing my belt were now digging into my hips: it looked like Janet and Bill had waited their entire lives to fuck each other and I've got to admit, I couldn't wait for it to happen and that shocked the hell out of me.

"You're beautiful, Janet, you're just spectacular," Bill was looking down on my entirely naked wife who was scrunched into the couch with her ass barely on the seat and she was looking at him with a fuck-me face that I hadn't seen much since our early marriage. As I've said, Janet isn't big on nuance and nor, I suspect, is Bill, because she was pushing off the couch as he was pulling her by the hips and when she reached the floor I could feel Sandra pulling at me, and I followed her encouragement and got up and sat down beside her and when I did, Gloria completed the task of taking off my pants and underwear while Sandra helped me out of my shirt.

And then the one-act play began. We had taken our seats, Sandra and I fused at the near naked hips on the couch, Gloria back on her chair with her hand under her skirt which she had pulled up so I could just see her fingers against her white panties. The star of the show was clearly my wife. Oh, the supporting cast was strong, Bill made an impressive Lathario, he was regally poised between my wife's legs, which were obscenely bent and open and he seemed like suspended animation as he awaited instructions from the star but it was Janet who was in absolute control.

The intensity on her face almost made me laugh but that thought vanished when she said, "Oh, fuck Bill. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," and she reached forward, took his penis and as he bent down she seemed to almost pull against him as she slide forward to impale herself on him. And he wanted her to be there, there was no doubt about that, he rammed at her, a way too savagely I thought, but she was loving it because she beat back at him so hard that when they bashed together the noise sounded like sickening slaps but I could only hear it for a moment because Janet started moaning, 'oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck' at first quite quietly but as he did, as he fucked and fucked and fucked, increasingly more vigorously, she started screaming it, "Oh, fuck, oh, fuck," repeatedly while Bill let out an animal wail that was about as loud and as they brutalized each other, their loud screams seemed only to get louder but even at that their crescendo seemed a long way off: these two appeared to have a stamina that matched their appetite.

Janet had said that she had a lot of untapped sexuality in her and there was no doubt that she was using Bill to get it out. As she thrust at him, as she screamed at him, she opened her legs impossibly wide so they appeared almost like wings as she beat herself against him and then she pulled at his arms, took his hands and forced them into her breasts, "squeeze me, fuck Bill, squeeze me."

That's all it took for Bill. His face, which had been reflecting concentration more than lust changed with her command because as he squeezed at my wife's breasts, really squeezed them — you could see her fat almost hide his fingers, his eyes seemed to cloud over and roll back in his head a little but that was the last I saw because Sandra was slowly sliding off the couch, pushing at her panties and I followed her down, got on her and then in her and when I did, she was pulling me into her chest and scissoring her legs around mine and holding me so tight I couldn't move and she didn't let me go, not for the longest time and when she did she was caressing my back, encouraging me to be still and I was, and after many minutes of near immobility, I felt like I had descended into a soft, warm place, like I was deep into a yogic exercise where my body was almost asleep yet I was still alert, it was as if my mind and body had separated; our bodies had fused in coital union while our minds were free to float.

This was sex like I'd never had it before, it was almost un-sex sex, merely a joining together like with an umbilical cord, no sweating, no grunting, no squeezing, no thrusting, no screaming like what was going on beside us, I just clenched my cheeks together as if to make my penis larger as she clenched her cheeks and almost imperceptibly road on me: we were co-mingling, encouraging each other to open our senses, to feel deep into each others body — really, it felt like we were almost trying to touch each other's soul and I reached a heightened level of consciousness: I could feel her subtle contractions around me, I could feel her warm, wet heat against me, I could smell her sweaty sweet perfume, I could hear her tiny little purring, and I could feel a sexual excitement build throughout me, not just in my head and my groin but in every facet of my mind and body. It staggered me, I didn't want to move, I didn't want her to move, I wanted our heightened senses and our exquisite proximity to continue to build, I didn't want to give it up.

But Janet was pulling at me. When I opened my eyes I could see that she was on her side now, her knees almost touching her chest and Bill was spooning her, thrusting at her. She wasn't screaming now, she was grunting as she sucked on my fingers.

I wanted to pull away from her, I wanted to be fully back on Sandra's body again, still, deep into our sexual cocoon, not sprawling half on, half off her so Janet could suck on me. But I couldn't pull away, I could only be encouraging and Sandra knew that too because she got up, went behind her husband and squeezed herself into him as he violently thrust at my wife as I let my soaking fingers tease at her drooling mouth, making her chase them as she was chasing the orgasm she was demanding.

I kissed her when it was over, I leaned in and kissed her near the lips which were partially pressed into the carpet. But she was spent, she didn't even twitch in recognition, so I pulled away and I think I was going to get up to get a beer but I didn't get the chance. Sandra lay down beside me, precisely where she had been before — unclasping and discarding her bra as she did, then she reached for me and I got back on her, and in her, but she didn't need to encourage me to be still this time, now, I wrapped her in my arms, pulling her face into my neck while she squirmed as I adjusted the alignment of my penis to be precisely where it had been and we both hung on, revisiting the places we had been.

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When we went onto the deck, Janet had her arms around Bill's neck and was bouncing up and down on his lap as he sat in the corner of the hot tub with a beer in his hand. "Do you play golf?" he was looking around my wife as the water frothed around them.

"Not well." I was stunned that I was finding it OK that my wife was fucking this guy.

"How about tomorrow, say around noon ... give us time to sleep in," his smile was innocent of any hidden meaning.

"You any good?" I've always loved my wife's back, it is strong and nicely freckled.

"Nah, it's just nice to get out once in awhile."

"Lying bastard." His hand was now moving under the water to her cheek.

He laughed, "I'm not but I'll give you a stroke a hole if you want, that way you can brag about beating me by 20 strokes. Devil's Elbow at noon."

"That place is booked into the next century, isn't it." Janet had stopped bouncing now and was squeezing herself against him as another orgasm shot through her.

"Noon." His voice was muffled against my wife's chest.

"Another beer?" I've always loved watching my wife orgasm, even from a distance.

Bill didn't try to speak now, I think he was finding his own pleasure, he just stuck up a thumb.

When I turned around from the fridge with a six pack in my hand, Gloria was standing six feet away, a red bathing suit dangling from her finger. "Before you leave I wanted to show you what you will get." She held the bathing suit out to the side and dipped in a mild curtsy.

"No man is that lucky," The girl is unbelievably angular, tall, almost gangly but she has an absolutely spectacular rack, I mean spectacular and a magnificent pussy, an erotic mound nicely covered in light brown hair.