Her Private Pleasure

I came home early from work and the house was quiet. I went to the kitchen and heard nothing. I figured my wife was out, but her car was there, and as I went down the hallway to the bedroom I could hear a slight noise. The door to our room was open and I looked in. There on the bed was my wife, nude, her legs spread wide, her hand busy at her pussy, her eyes closed and all her attention was focussed on the movement of her hand as her palm rested on her pubic mound. I'd never seen my wife masturbating before, but I stood mesmerized by the sight and watched her pleasure herself on our bed in the middle of the afternoon.

I wondered what mental image was flashing through her head, being careful not to let her see me as she brought herself toward a climax. It became obvious she was getting close and I moved back into the shadows, but I kept on watching. I was fascinated by the sight of her pleasuring herself. When she came she bit down on her lower lip and scrunched up her face, pulled her knees up and tightened her whole body. When the orgasm subsided she relaxed and her arm collapsed on the bed, her fingers falling away at her side.

What a wonderful sight. My wife had pleasured herself as she relaxed at home and I was so curious about what she was thinking. Who was she picturing as she brought herself to orgasm privately in our bed that afternoon? Was it me? Could it be someone else she pictured herself having sex with? I couldn't stop thinking about her fantasy. What occupied her mind as she masturbated privately at home? The question held my attention completely.

I had to know. I could not stop thinking about what she was imagining, who was she picturing, who occupied the images of her secret garden of sexual fantasies. I thought daily of ways to find out what she was dreaming as she pleasured herself in secret.

After about a week of thinking about nothing else, I came home at the same time of day and crept into the house, down the hall and peeked into my wife's room. As before she was on the bed. This time her dress was still on but pulled up, her panties only half off her legs, her hand again placed on her mound, her fingers working feverishly at her pussy. Again her eyes were closed and her attention was held by her hand at her groin.

Intently I watched her, rapt in secret thought as she pleasure herself quietly, savoring the finger that stroked her sensitive nub. I waited patiently as she worked her fingers over her clitoris, frantically moving one hand's fingers as she fantasized her pleasure, picturing some satisfying image that held her attention. One finger of her other hand was inserted deeply into her pussy. I watched my wife for a good thirty minutes, then I silently left the hallway.

That night I asked what she had done and received a list of simple chores and daily ventures that amounted to nothing interesting or sexy. What if I told her about my fantasies, what if I revealed what inspired my sexual pleasures, would she reciprocate and share some of hers? I thought it may be the only way, but I knew it was a risk, I knew it could backfire, but that night as we lay in bed I brought them up, beginning to talk about my sexual fantasies, asking if she ever had any. She listened and I wasn't sure what her reaction would be, but she seemed interested, asking some questions I had not anticipated.

"How often do you fantasize?" she asked. I told her nearly every day, even when we had sex. She listened, seemed sincere, then thought for a while as I talked more about some of mine. Most of what I spoke of were fantasies that involved her, most of which were ones where I pictured her with someone else. She seemed fascinated that I'd think of her having sex with others as I masturbated.

That interested her and after a pause of maybe two minutes, she said, "So sometimes you dream of me having sex with other people?" I told her that was true and said I enjoyed thinking of her having sex with someone she really liked, someone I thought she could enjoy, someone she was attracted to. "It may be strange," I acknowledged, "but it is true."

"Is it ever someone we know?" she asked after I explained what I usually fantasized about. I said it often was: people who we socialized with, people we knew.

"What if I thought about the same thing?" she asked cautiously.

"You mean if you're thinking about having sex with someone we know?" I asked.

"What if that was happening, yes," she asked.

"I assume you would. It would be unnatural if you didn't," I said. "Most people do. Sexual fantasies are totally normal. Almost everyone has them," I said. "If you're thinking of having sex with someone we know I would be fine with it," I said. "I would expect it." She looked incredulous.

"Really?" she said.

"I would not be angry you if you did," I said. "I would expect you to. I would even be able to take a guess at who that may be."

"You could guess?" she said.

"I'd think perhaps Randy, or Jake, maybe even Andre. I'd guess probably Jake," I said. She asked why I'd say Jake. I told her because she seemed to really like him, and the way she got along with him. Even the way she looked at him when he was around.

"He's handsome and virile, and I think many women see him that way," I said.

She smiled and I could tell I'd hit pay dirt. "So you think of Jake when you fantasize?" I asked.

She waited a long time before she answered, then she smiled. "I have been masturbating lately," she said. She paused for a couple of minutes. "Yes, I have been thinking about Jake when I masturbate," she said smiling. "What do you think of that?"

"I think it's only natural," I said. "I think it's great. You probably aren't the only one who does. I think some others probably do as well. Let me ask you," I said, "when you fantasize about Jake, what do you imagine doing?"

She paused, then smiled. "Fucking," she said with a laugh, using a word I'd never heard her use. "I imagine him fucking me," she said with an embarrassed smile. "It has only been recently. I had not masturbated until just a short time ago," she said. "But lately, it's been every day."

I told her I was happy to hear it and she looked surprised. I said I was glad she was finding sexual pleasure from fantasies. I kissed her and gave her a hug. "Have you been enjoying those images?" I asked. She smiled and paused, then nodded. I asked if she thought she'd find them pleasurable to have in real life. She looked at me for a long time, then she nodded, cautiously.

I said I could help her achieve them. "It would be okay with me if you did," I said.

"I could talk to Jake and see if we could get him here for you." She looked at me unbelieving, shaking her head and saying she couldn't, but I said to think about it and let me know after she had. She hugged me and we kissed, then we made love and she was very turned on as we had sex. It was one of the most intense sessions of sex we'd ever had.

After we both came she asked me why I would do that, to let her be sexual with a friend. I said it was because I loved her and wanted her pleasure as much as mine. Then she smiled and nodded, saying yes, she like very much for me to help her.

At that very moment I decided what I had to do. I vowed to myself to make it happen, to bring he and my wife together. I decided right then I would never tell her I'd seen her masturbating, there was no need to embarrass her, but I would have to tell Jake what I had seen and explain why the unusual request.

That weekend I saw him and said there was something I wanted to talk with him about, making it clear it was a serious and I needed to speak with him. He listened as I explained what I'd seen and how much I wanted to find out what she was thinking about while she pleasured herself, alone at home in our bed. I described how aroused I got watching her, how intently she concentrated on her fantasy, and how much I wanted to know what she was thinking.

He asked me what exactly did I want him to do. "I would like you to make love to my wife. I think it is something she really wants." He looked stunned. "It would be a big favor to me," I said.

"You want me to have sex with Claire?" That's it?"

"That's exactly it," I said. "I know it is a strange request, but I know how much she wants to have sex with you. Enough to actually tell me that is what she wants."

"And you're okay with that?" he asked. "You don't mind another man having sex with your wife?"

I said I wanted her to be happy, that I love her and her pleasure is as important to me as my own. "It's really hard to explain, but I want it more than I can put into words.

I would be most grateful if you would do this for me, well for her."

I went home and told her I'd talked to him, and she said she'd like to call him and talk to him herself on the phone. I went in the other room to give her some privacy and she called him. They talked for maybe an hour. In that time I guess they talked about a feeling they'd both had for one another. She told him she had fantasized about him and confessed to masturbating to his image many times. I didn't hear any of their conversation, but she did tell me about some of it later.

They had decided to meet away from the house, to treat it as a date, and to perhaps get a room for the two of them, to see if they wanted to carry it any further. He told her she could call it off anytime she wanted. She thanked him and said she didn't think she would call it off.

They met at a hotel in a city a few miles from us and had drinks at the bar. He asked her if she wanted to dance and she thought that was a good idea. She was very nervous but felt much better after a couple of dances. After a few dances she told him she was ready and wanted to go up to the room.

When they got to the room he let her take the lead, but she asked him to undress her. He started with her blouse, then helped her out of her skirt, slipped her panties off, and set her on the bed. He kissed her and she said she melted right then, stretching out on the bed and reaching up to him.

She told me later that he climbed on the bed and entered her without any conversation. She admitted it was a dream come true. She accepted him with passion and pushed her body up toward his, forcing him deep within her. His cock was rigid as a board and repeatedly pushed into her, making her gasp and catch her breath. She conceded it was a wonderful feeling, having him inside her, and she pushed against him repeatedly. She closed her eyes and duplicated the dreams she had had at home alone on our bed.

She kissed him, fulfilling her fantasies from before, taking him into her repeatedly, thinking back to the times she pleasure herself with images of him in her mind. "Oh fuck me, sweet," she whispered in his ear. He continued as she asked, repeatedly pushing into her pussy, heaving his body against hers.

"Could you do me?" she asked, moving to a position that put her goin at his face.

He took the hint and began licking and sucking her sex as if he'd been starving. "Oh yes," she cried. "Eat me, eat me, eat me!" As he did she said, "Oh this I dreamed of so many times. Yes, keep your mouth there for as long as you wish."

He did just that, licking and sucking, kissing and caressing, moving his lips to her clitoris and moving them quickly back and forth. "You taste so good," he said. "I too have dreamed of this," he added as he pleasured her with his mouth. "I have been thinking of you this way for years." He placed a kiss on her pussy, then he licked the length of her slit. "I never thought I would have the pleasure."

"It is my pleasure," she said. "Your mouth is so skillful. Your tongue is like a pleasant sword, and your lips give pleasure like a cat purring. Keep eating me, love," she cooed, pushing her legs wide apart and lifting her knees.

"Is this as good as your fantasies?" he asked.

"Oh, a hundred times better," she sighed.

He sucked her labia into his mouth and held them, sucking tenderly, moving them around in his mouth. She moaned as he did and he inserted his tongue into her, keeping her lips held in his mouth. When he finished with her labia, he moved his mouth down he slit until he could reach her anus, then he swiped across it a few times before he pressed into her and probed with his long tongue.

"Oh God, yes," she muttered, tensing against his mouth.

After another ten minutes or so she asked to taste him, then she moved to where she could reach his erection with her mouth. She took him in and slid her head up and down his shaft, while holding him tightly between her lips. "Come in my mouth," she begged. A few minutes later that was exactly what he did and she swallowed Jake's semen like a happy whore. As he continued to spurt, she drank him down and swallowed whatever came.

"I've wanted to do that for years," she said, licking her lips and running them around the tip of his penis. She took it again in her mouth and ran her tongue the length of his shaft, sucking and licking the entire organ as if it were a taste treat.

"I love you," she said and continued to wash his cock with her wet mouth.

"And I love you," he said.

They continued to have sex at least once a day for the rest of his life, until he died an early death at age fifty-one of cancer. She continues to masturbate every day at least once, thinking back to the time she was able to have sex with him for the first time, reliving those moments in her mind with the help of her active finger. They lived together until he died and made a wonderful couple who had great sex and lived a happy life. I, on the other hand, realized that what I saw on that day many years ago when she thought of him and pleasured herself on top of our bed was the best kind of fantasy. Even though they lived together, we stayed married and he and I shared her body until he died.