Joan Takes a Lover

My wife has taken a lover. She has a special friend. A friend with whom she shares an intimacy usually reserved for committed, monogamous relationships...marriage. And I support her and encourage her and embrace the seduction, the sharing, and the raw physical and emotional connection. I am fascinated by the process and her effort to coordinate time with her lover and the details of their entwinement. I am caught up in the erotic appeal and feeling it gives me sexually and emotionally. In a sense, I have taken her lover as an extension to our own sexual story and relationship. She shares their time with me and replays their encounters. It is sensual and instructive, consuming and powerful, strange and open, empowering and emasculating, connective and strong. In the sense that we can step back from our own commitment and our own self-view, it fuels the connection between us both, stoking a passionate fire that grows and strengthens our relationship.

Scott arrived in town today and Joan met him at the airport alone in her summer skirt, the light linen wrinkled to knee length and teasing, suggesting, proffering the pleasures within. As agreed, for him she wore no bra beneath her thinly strapped button-front shirt and no panties under the skirt. In the airy setting sun airport interior, a transparent backlighting filtered through Joan's skirt exposing her openness. Joan and her lover planned this weekend over several months, the anticipation building in all of us.

I accompanied Joan to the airport, keeping my distance to allow them better privacy for the first embrace. With me sitting nearby, Joan paced in her fashion, nervously watching the arrivals board and scanning the terminal halls. Scott appeared in the corridor, looking pensive and not yet catching Joan's eye. I could see as they both tried casually to find the other as he neared and at that moment they both connected, I could easily see the spark of desire intensified as they found each other across the hall. Scott confidently walked to Joan and they embraced, his hand at the small of her back, fingers lazily tracing slightly under her skirt and on her bare back beneath her blouse. In a fluid motion they kissed, her hands on his face, open and passionate, hungry for the other and unabashedly aggressive.

After a time, they both approached me and I stood, shaking hands with Scott and welcoming him. Not just to our home, but to our relationship. Joan had been open with Scott and I about both sides of her desire and had had several but brief sexual encounters over the last year. But we had not yet met since they became involved. So this first meeting in effect was a nervous one for us both but Joan concentrated on equal and shared, to some extent quieting our nerves though it seemed my heart would pound from my chest it beat so hard and fast. Joan was clearly flushed and excited speaking in quiet clipped phrases, obviously scared but wanting to lead, to guide, and to be led and to be guided. Before we left for baggage claims she in turn hugged us both, kissing us each in a manner clearly not that of a friend, leaving no question that she had not one, but two lovers. And as nervous as it made her, it clearly demonstrated those nearby that she belonged to us both.

For a time she held both our hands, Scott to one side and I the other but eventually she and he walked arm in arm, close, touching as much as possible as we walked to the claims area. After retrieving luggage, we walked to the car lot, Joan and Scott entangled as we loaded suitcases and bags. I offered to drive and she and Scott climbed into the back seat for our 30 minute drive into town. As driver I had a clear view in the mirror of them both, sitting together their legs touching and hands together. We left the airport in the early dusk, not yet dark as the sun set in the western sky, a crimson sea across the receding sky.

Without pause she began kissing him, with more and more passion and abandon, slowly at first but building as if seeking orgasm though his tongue in her mouth and his in hers. With one leg draped over his, one hand found her bare leg and gently caressed the inside of her thigh, the other working the buttons of her blouse. She had shared stories with me of an interest with her lover in as quickly as possible, consummating the affair sexually each time they again met. Pulling back her skirt, he exposed the closely trimmed pussy, engorged and swollen, lips clearly open and wet with anticipation. He teasingly moved slowly up her leg, brushing the bare folds lightly. Joan shuddered and moaned loudly as much for my enjoyment as it was her uncontrollable bodily response. His mouth moved to her neck as he entered her, quickly plunging two fingers to the depths of her opening. Her body emoted with physical abandonment as she thrashed and moaned, calling his name and mine. Both legs spread wide now between the two front seats as if she were determined to position herself for my viewing in the mirror. His hand worked in and out of the mysterious depths, plunging into the slippery wetness over and over.

For several minutes he worked between Joan's lips, thumb over her clit. Back and forth, in and out, his interior fingers curled up and away inside, a continuous "come hither" motion massaging her interior vaginal walls. Kissing and now panting, he continued to move Joan down a path she enjoys, towards a capitulation and momentary collapse. No longer able to connect with her face as she thrashed against his willing hand, Joan now began screaming "Scott", "Scott", "oh god", "fuck", "fuck", reaching a plateau and a repeated mantra "Scott....fuck"... "Scott....fuck".... "Scott...fuck" until with a shuddering freeze and body lurch, she kicked both legs forward into the front seat impaling herself onto his hand and began a moan that struggled from deep within and found its way into our consciousness as an orgasmal scream. Her body convulsing and shaking as his hand and fingers feverishly stroked her to a mini-death, pitching her forward and back, forward and back. Slowing, slowing, groaning, not wanting to let go, Joan let the moan fade a bit with each curl forward. With her arms cradled around his neck and head she pulled his lips to hers and kissed through the lingering release, her own orgasms fuel running down her leg and his hand, the car adrift in the powerful smell of sex.

For some time the car was silent as Joan lay against her lover's chest, her hand resting lightly in his lap though downward facing and covering his clear desire. No one spoke as she came back to our world, taking control of her emotions and body. His arms wrapped down her side supporting her against him as she traced the building outline of his slacks in lazy circles. Teasingly at first Joan watched her own hand looking down from his chest as she cupped and held him. But it was clear he needed no encouragement and was as turned on as I, his hardness straining at his slacks and his hips moving and grinding towards her. Deftly, she unfastened the clasp and pulled down the zipper freeing his enormous cock nearly striking her chin. Clumsily Joan leaned over him to work his pants loose as his penis hit her cheek. Her hand clasped him loosely and she began to stroke up and down his length slowly. Fingers encircled at his base and then the whole hand wrapped around the shaft to the head then releasing again to the fingers encircling his tip.

She watched her own work as with each pull Joan stretched his length towards her face, willing him to cum. His erection arched upwards slapping against his own stomach rigid and purple. He now like her before was making a noise that only is possible in passion. Almost a growl, he moaned a guttural approval of each shift, each move, each pressure from her hand. With each upward pull she panted, opening her mouth as she seemed to try and stretch him into her. Joan's head drifted down slowly until with each stroke, her tongue quickly licked the tip of his dick almost as if she were fucking him. Again she shifted and with each pull she allowed the tip to enter her mouth sucking nosily and releasing with a pop. Finally, with her hand now tight around his shaft Joan lowered her mouth fully onto his cock, driving downwards until his pubic bone met her chin and he was easily embedded deeply in her throat. Holding this position, with a swallowing motion she willed him deeper and deeper into her, holding her breath and cupping his balls. For a full 30 seconds of silence and with them both frozen in place, I watched Joan milk him, seeking his release. With a gasp she pulled back to his frantic hip thrusting upwards, seeking to fuck her face. Her hand vigorously continued to work his shaft in a frenzy and they both were now very vocal. "I want you to come!" "Come for me"! Your cock is so hard"!

He clearly was approaching a turning point as he also worked his body opposite the motion of her hand, up and down, up and down, his eyes closed and his head back against the seat. Also like Joan his body went quickly rigid, a seizure of sorts as his legs and back muscles spasmed and her hand sought its goal. With a groan and then a yell, he came in seemingly endless rope of cum which hit Joan's forehead and draped over her hair onto his own chest. She dropped her mouth hungrily onto his cock, pumping him and taking his length into her throat. I imagine with each upward thrust of his body another shot of cum blasted into Joan's mouth and down her throat. I could see her struggling to swallow, gasping for breath but not wanting to release her lover's shaft. His cum escaped her lips and ran down her hand and cheek as he slowly relaxed, his own passionate heights receding. Joan slowly traced the path of his cum with her tongue cleaning him thoroughly as he lay and watched her effort. Without hesitation he lowered his face to hers and she reached to him and kissed open mouth, his salty release shared in their satiated and languorous embrace. The car was awash in the sexual post-coital aroma of spent passion and consummated release. I could see cum in Joan's hair and on her forehead as they both lay back, catching their breath now that they had reignited their affair.

It was then that they noticed we were parked at the hotel and I was turned full around watching their connection and enjoying the passion. As his erection subsided, we all chatted nervously watching as Joan cleaned herself and he reclaimed his pants. And then we went into the hotel. But that is another story!

So my wife has taken a lover. It is erotic, breath-taking, frightening, and appealing. It is the fuel for our next shared life story.