It Finally Happened

Many thanks to Indy Axiom for some much needed editing. Any errors still in the story are mine and mine alone.

*****

For years, I had wanted to watch my wife with another man. I never dreaming it would actually ever happen.

Amanda is 42 years old and has a healthy sex drive and an attractive figure—although she doesn't think so since delivering our children. Married young, she had only been with me, and was quite 'vanilla', only agreeing to give me head when we made love as long as I'd promise never to cum in her mouth. On the rare occasion I'd come in her mouth, she would instantly spits my cum out, and race to the bathroom to rinse her mouth.

I tried more than a few times to get Amanda turned on to the idea of being taken and ravished by another man. Sadly, in no uncertain terms, on each occasion, I was told it would never happen. Eventually, I had given up.

Anyway, for some time now, I had fantasized about her being with another man. In fact, although I don't know why or what made me start to think of it, but I had become more aroused every time I thought about it, to the point that I needed to visualize her with someone else in order to climax myself.

Amanda's compromise was to flirt harmlessly with strangers when out with the girls. She'd come home and tell me about the men that had asked her to dance. She'd then embellish the story by telling me about how they had groped her on dance floor until they'd retire to the shadows of the pub to fuck her brains out. I enjoyed these little stories immensely as they would lead to amazing sex, and I had become content with my lot in life.

One weekend, we decided to go away to join a 'murder mystery' far away from family life, so we could enjoy some "us" time. Like many couples that have been together for a long time, we needed some sort of distraction as our conversations usually dried up very quickly, and a weekend of murder mystery seemed like it could be fun.

While packing, I immediately noticed that the usually conservative Amanda was packing a racy black dress she had only ever worn once. My thoughts raced as I remembered how the fit of this dress precluded any undergarments. Our eyes met and I sprang to attention at the thought of my night ahead: a situation not unnoticed by Amanda who suggested, by giving me a tug,that she was also looking forward to the night ahead.

Throughout the dinner, wine flowed freely. As we enjoyed the main course of the meal, the cast circulated around us 'detectives' and answered our questions and gave us hints and clues. One cast member was a man in his late thirties. Although only average in build and in height, Paul had managed to catch Amanda's eye and she was flirting outrageously with him. As he left, I slid my hand under the hem of her dress, and discovered she was soaking wet.

After dinner, despite the hints and clues, we detectives had all spectacularly failed to identify the killer. Not surprisingly, Amanda still firmly believed it was the man she was previously flirting with. The next part of the evening's entertainment began with a dance, during which the cast rejoined the party and shared a few drinks. Several asked to dance with Amanda, but she very demurely declined. Much to my disappointment, she toned down the flirting, as she always does when I'm around.

Suddenly, a song by Lady Antebellum was playing: one of her current favourites, Paul asked Amanda to dance. On glancing up at them, I noticed his hand slide back from her hip to squeeze her cheek gently, as she pressed her head firmly into his neck. Any onlooker would observe these were lovers enjoying a slow dance. This spectacle gave me a pleasantly uncomfortable, restricted feeling in my underwear as my cock started straining for release. I could only imagine how good the pillow talk would be tonight. After they danced three or four more songs, my lascivious wife seemed to remember that I was sitting at our table, and returned briefly to join me. She downed a couple shots of vodka and was soon pretty tipsy: unable and unwilling to slow down the slightest bit.

After another half-hour of small talk, Paul and one of the female cast members came over and told us they were going to a nearby club, and asked if we'd like to go with them. I was only interested in getting Amanda upstairs while she was still sober enough for some good sex, so I feigned fatigue and told them that I needed to bid my farewells. I stood up, expecting Amanda to follow, but she had other ideas: she told me to go to bed, that she was going to the club, and that she'd see me later. Paul's friend indicated that the club shut at three, that they'd have her home' by a quarter past and that I was to phone his mobile if I wanted to contact them.

Suddenly, they were off to the club. Upstairs alone in our room, I sat horny and fuming at my own stupidity. I soon decided I would bite the bullet and join them. Being a single male trying to get in on a Saturday night meant queueing at least an hour, but I finally got in.

In the dark, I looked around and noticed Amanda and Paul in a booth at the back of the club. The actress friend was nowhere to be seen. I decided to go join them, but walking toward them with my drink, I noticed how close they were sitting, that their knees were touching, that his knees separated her thighs. I felt my erection harden as I noticed the way her dress had risen slightly, realizing that if the light were any better, he would be able see that which previously had been mine alone to enjoy.

My eyes were drawn to my wife's lovely pussy and I noticed Paul's hand along the inside of her thigh. My first thought was 'Fuck me! She's drunk! Or...is this her usual way of flirting?" I paused, deciding to stand back and observe for a bit. After all, I've never seen her flirting when out with her girlfriends, and I figured it could only help me visualize her descriptions of her nights out.

After a few minutes of this, they got up for some rather boring, straightforward dancing. I had just decided I'd join them when I saw Paul's hand reaching up past her hemline to what must have been her pussy.

I inhaled sharply, expecting her to react. She did react, but not in the way I expected! Suddenly, she was leaning forward and kissing him! This encouragement spurred him on and I could tell by the rhythmic movements under her skimpy dress that he was now vigorously finger-fucking her. My jaw may have bounced off the floor, but I was otherwise paralyzed. My initial feelings of jealousy were soon overtaken by my lust and disbelief at what I was seeing.

My hands trembling as I tried to steady my phone, I texted Amanda, as I always do when she goes out. I wrote that I was going to sleep, and that I hoped she was getting some bedtime story material for me. Almost immediately, I watched her phone light up, and I knew she'd received my message. She read it and showed it to Paul. His reaction earned him a nod and a laugh, and Amanda's reply confirmed that she was indeed getting some great material, and that she really fancied Paul. I replied that she should go for it, that I loved her, that I hoped she was having a good time. Reading this, I watched my wife give Paul another kiss as she rubbed his crotch. It wasn't ten minutes after this that they left the club.

At a distance, I followed them back to the hotel, wondering how I was going to get back to the room before she did. My worries were unfounded, as the couple went straight to his mobile home, parked around the back of the hotel with those of the other actors.

Glancing at my watch, I was surprised it was still barely 1:30. Time was ticking far slower than my mind, which was racing through a number of emotionally-charged thoughts and questions. Even though she had always had my blessing, could my wife have been lying to me about her previous nights out?

I didn't know if I wanted to just return to our hotel room and wait to see what she'd say when she returned. Or whether I should I text her, and see if she'd reply? What would she say? Maybe I should listen at the trailer door, or even try to sneak a peek through the curtains?

Or maybe just walk up to the trailer and confront them—or suggest that I watch them-or even just join them?

In the end, the fantasy won out, and I went to the trailer and looked in the gap in the curtain. Fortunately for me, it was a warm evening so the window was slightly ajar, and I could hear as well as see what transpired. Paul had already removed his short and socks-obviously, this man knew not to get caught with only his socks on—and they were standing in the middle of the room kissing and dancing to some slow song on the radio. Amanda's hand was on his chest, while he had a firm grip on one arse cheek and one breast. I watched, fascinated, as he then moved a hand under her dress again, all the while kissing her neck. I could tell Amanda was very wet from the sounds her pussy made-and from the noises she was making, she was obviously enjoying the attention.

Paul manoeuvered Amanda to the couch and when she sat down, he hiked up the bottom of her dress, exposing her recently-shaved pussy for his inspection. He moved down, placing his head between her legs. When she grabbed his head and asked him to stop, she noted that he'd already gone further with her than anyone else apart from her husband had ever gone—but that she also hoped they were not yet done...

Paul must have a massive amount of will power: I realized he must be one of the few remaining gentlemen, in that he stopped and sat on the couch next to her and apologized. She also apologized, saying that she shouldn't have led him on so much. They decided to have another drink, and this led to a lot more kissing and fumbling. Paul's hand made its way back to her now-dripping cunt, then to his obviously-erect cock.

I thought that this would be the end of it and that she would shortly head back to the room. I was in need of some relief myself, so decided this would be the right time to head back to masturbate, then call her to come back.

Just as I had made those decisions, I heard her say again that she was sorry, and she felt badly for leaving him in that condition. This made me look back into the window to see that she had unzipped his trousers and was now wanking him off in time to his actions in her.

I let go of my crotch and grabbed my phone instead. I had the presence of mind to turn off the flash and mute the volume before I started snapping a few shots as souvenirs.

After a few minutes she said she was getting close to coming, and I saw her move so that he could no longer reach her. The look of disappointment on his face made a perfect picture. This soon changed, as she lowered her head onto his lap. Although from my angle I couldn't see enough to confirm this, I knew she was giving him a blow job. Her pace and his breath quickened until she suddenly stopped, warning Paul not to come in her mouth. He agreed.

This went on for some time when Paul told her that even though she was a fantastic cocksucker, it didn't seem to be happening. That made her laugh and state that she was glad of that as her jaw was starting to ache. Standing up, she observed that he still needed to be sorted out and that she also wanted to come.Paul told her to sit down and they carried on using their hands and imaginations on each other. Soon my wife pushed her dress over her head, and removed her bra.

"You'll need a condom, Paul".

"Good girl," I thought to myself.

With that, she sat on the edge of the couch and started to finger herself. Paul didn't need telling twice and while completely removing his trousers, he went into his bedside table. Condom on, he got back down on his knees and started to suck on her clit, while thrusting 3 fingers in and out of her.

Amanda let out a sharp cry and climaxed violently against his lips. She started to apologize, but he stopped her by murmuring, "That was fucking awesome!" before giving her a deep, passionate kiss.

As they were kissing, he nuzzled his cock into Amanda's cunt, causing my lovely wife to gasp. From what I could see, it was not much longer than my own seven inches, but its girth was closer to that of a coke can! Enviously, I reflected that after she has cum, I often had trouble maintaining friction, but I doubted Paul was having that problem.

This didn't last long and when they'd finished, and she'd gone to clean up, Paul told her he was ready to go again. Amanda told him he was just being greedy, and when she bent to pick up her clothing, he quickly positioned himself behind her and thrust inside her. She shrieked with pleasure and moaned that this was a one-off time he could be as greedy as he liked. I watched the rapture, noting that she climaxed yet again before she told him she'd had enough, and that she had to go.

By now, it was just after three, so I ran back to the room to relieve myself. As I finished cleaning up, I heard the door lock bleep, and the door open. Amanda came in with Paul, both looking none the worse for wear. Paul declared, "Delivered as promised! Thanks for letting me borrow your wife tonight!" I asked him where his friend was and anti-climatically before he parted, he told me they dropped her off on their way over.

Once in bed alone together, we started our usual "kiss and tell" ritual. I kissed my good wife, telling her how much I loved her and started to rub her pussy and ask if she had had a good time. Amanda told me the usual flirt story, and I left it at that as we fucked passionately as we always do each time she tells all.

However, I woke in the morning to discover her crying. Realizing I was awake, she asked me for forgiveness and told me everything. When I told her it was ok, and reminded her that this was something I have wanted for a very long time, she confided that she'd thought I was only saying that to test her.

We dried her eyes and made love—actual love, and not just fucking—and it was my turn to admit that I had seen everything, emphasizing that if I had been bothered, I could have put a stop to everything.

Amanda's now a little worried my next fantasy will be a gang bang, but I've already let her know that that's not the way I roll, but that if this happens again, I will be overjoyed. If not, I'll remain happy in the knowledge that my wife that did this for me just the once.

Of course, I now have plenty of photos to replay in private...