My Wife's Peeping Tom

The fancy New Year's Eve party my wife and I attended this year outdid all others in the past. Our friends asked everyone to wear suits and gowns, and they even hired a bartender and cocktail waitress. The fancy mixed drinks and excellent service turned a run of the mill house party into an event.

While getting ready for the party, I encouraged Brooke to wear a racy dress with a long slit that ran from her ankle to the top of her thigh. She'd bought it a few years earlier as part of a Jessica Rabbit costume for Halloween. The halter top of the dress meant she couldn't wear a bra to contain her large breasts, and the red spandex clung to her round bottom but left my wife's back completely bare above her slim waist.

When Brooke complained that she'd get cold, I argued that our friends' house was always too hot even when it wasn't filled with people, and she'd probably be more comfortable than me in my suit. Truthfully, I just like showing her off because it's a huge ego boost being the guy with the hottest wife in the place. Thinking back to that Halloween party, I remembered fondly how her nipples poked up the material of the dress, not to mention how mesmerizing her breasts became as they jiggled and swayed whenever she moved.

Predictably, she'd been leery of wearing such a sexy dress to our friends' home when it wasn't part of a costume. I subtly implied that her other two choices made her look fat, and Brooke reluctantly gave in. After pairing it with a tan thong that didn't quite conceal her thick red bush, she stepped into a pair of stilettos she'd bought at the same time as the dress. My wife looked so hot that I had a hard time keeping my hands to myself as she styled her hair into a loose updo that left just a few strands of auburn hair dangling down around her slender neck.

When we arrived, Brooke and I split up almost immediately since we prefer to mingle independently to give us something to talk about after we leave. I tend to be on the quiet side, and I often end up helping the hostess in the kitchen or just lurking at the edge of a conversation with a group of guys. On the other hand, my wife is the consummate social butterfly, flitting from one conversation to another with ease.

I couldn't tear my eyes from Brooke all night. After about an hour, our friends uncharacteristically opened some windows to cool off the house, and Brooke's body reacted to the chilly air whenever an occasional breeze blew through. Not only did this leave her nipples prominently on display all evening, but she had the cutest case of goosebumps on her arms and back. With all her drinking, my wife wasn't even aware of how sexy she looked. At least, she didn't appear to.

Of course, I wasn't the only one who noticed her. Some of the other wives and girlfriends looked great, but none of them could compete with Brooke squeezed into that slinky mermaid dress. I felt tremendous pride each time I caught my buddies checking out my wife, which happened pretty much constantly.

Our hosts had cleared away the furniture in their living room to create a place to dance, and Brooke spent a great deal of time on the hardwood floor dancing with a string of my friends. I don't really dance, so she and I have a standing agreement that she can dance with other guys without me getting all stupid, but that night I noticed my wife and buddies dancing more slow songs than usual. I felt a little jealous when they danced a little too close, but I brushed it off as innocent flirting.

Besides, my wife ended up in my arms at midnight as we welcomed in the new year with a kiss. Because Brooke had overindulged at the open bar, it turned out to be more of a make out session than a simple kiss. Forty minutes later, I half-carried her to the car.

She'd overindulged as usual, and that's undoubtedly why Brooke let slip information she probably should've kept to herself. Then again, everything worked out in the end, so maybe a little liquid lubrication can be a good thing. That's especially true when your wife has spent the last fifteen years pretending to be more prudish than she actually is.

"You're going to get tho lucky tonight," my wife slurred as she sat beside me on the way home. I never drink more than a few beers in an evening, so I serve as Brooke's de facto designated driver whenever we go out.

"More likely you'll pass out before we get home," I replied as I concentrated on keeping the car on the icy street.

"No! I'm feeling really horny!" Brooke insisted as she kicked off her heels and propped her feet up on the dashboard so the defroster could blow warm air them. Her dress fell away from her legs, and I had to force myself to keep my eyes on the road. That reminded me of something that had happened earlier.

"I'm not surprised you're horny. I noticed you putting on a little show for Eric," I remarked casually as we merged onto the expressway. Thankfully, it had been plowed and salted, so I felt more confident in my ability to get us home safely despite all the drunks out and about.

"What do you mean?" Brooke asked guardedly, and I could tell she was struggling to remember what she might've done.

My wife gets flirty after a few cocktails, but I don't think she's ever actually cheated on me. She just likes the attention, and in all honesty, I enjoy watching her be wild since I tend to be overly serious. We have different strengths that compensate for each other's weaknesses, and I think that's why we're such a strong couple.

"You know what I mean," I admonished her, trying not to sound angry or jealous. "You let him stare at your legs for over half an hour while you two talked."

Most of the guys had been glancing her way all evening, but their attention dramatically increased about a half hour before midnight when her dress fell away from her legs as she sat on a couch drinking Cosmopolitans. She kept her knees together at first, but eventually her thighs parted an inch or two. From my vantage point across the room, I could just see the tan triangle of her thong and curly red hair escaping out the edges.

As I talked with our hostess, over her shoulder I saw Eric ogling Brooke as he engaged her in conversation. Despite my jealous thoughts, he didn't try anything, so I just kept my eye on them. I know some husbands would've demanded their wife cover up her legs or at least cross them, but I'd have looked insane making a scene about her showing too much after I pressured her to wear that revealing dress. This was especially true since I hadn't objected to her breasts being mashed against my friend's chests on the dance floor all night.

Besides, it's not my fault she drinks so much. We've talked about her overdoing the booze many times, but Brooke insists that she only drinks a lot when I'm there to keep her safe. Frankly, it annoyed me that night that I had to be responsible for a grown woman, and if my wife got embarrassed by some of our friends seeing her hairy pussy, I figured that was her problem.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Brooke lied lamely as she rolled her window down in the hope that the night air might sober her up a bit.

"I'm not mad about it," I assured her, and I really wasn't. To be honest, I don't even know why I brought the whole thing up. "I know you've always liked being the center of attention. I just thought it was cute."

"Cute?"

"Yeah. I know you aren't interested in him, so it's no big deal."

"It was sort of hot," she admitted, confirming my suspicions that my allegedly demure wife had been aware of her exposure the whole time. Brooke's speech and focus improved as the frigid air blew across her face. "Are you sure you're not mad?"

"Positive. Like I said, I thought it was cute," I assured her. I had to deal with some nasty slush as I changed lanes, so I stopped talking and focused on my driving.

"Can I tell you something I've never told anyone?" Brooke asked when the awkward silence in the car became too oppressive for her bear.

"Of course. You can tell me anything."

"I've always had this fantasy of having a peeping Tom," she confessed quickly.

"Really? So what happens in this fantasy?" I pressed her, curious about this unexpected development. Her admission seemed to come out of nowhere at the time, but now that I think about it, she'd been thinking about being exposed at the party, and that must've led Brooke's drunken brain to her secret kink.

"I'm home alone... and naked after a bath..." she began hesitantly, but then it came pouring out of her. "A stranger is outside watching me through the window. I don't know he's there until after he watches me playing with myself. Then I do it knowing he's watching."

"Wow, I guess your exhibitionism isn't limited to showing off your legs to my friends and coworkers."

"It's just a silly fantasy," my wife claimed before closing her eyes. I didn't bother responding since I knew she'd gone down for the count. When we got home, I left Brooke's high heels in the car and carried her inside.

Still horny from our conversation, I stripped off my wife's dress and thong. I wasn't going to try anything with her unconscious, but I like sleeping naked with her, and she normally refuses to sleep without at least panties and a big T-shirt. After brushing my teeth and hanging up my suit, I joined Brooke in bed and happily spooned her until I drifted off.

The next morning, I got up and made bacon and pancakes so Brooke would have something to absorb the alcohol still in her system. I smiled when I saw that she'd only donned her little silk kimono instead of the ratty cotton robe she normally wears. I didn't expect sex with her all hungover, but I love looking at my wife's long legs as much as my friends do.

After eating breakfast together, we went into the family room to drink coffee and watch the Sunday morning news programs. Brooke sat with one leg under her as she stared blankly at the TV and sipped at her mug. I glanced over and could just see her thick red bush where her kimono had opened a bit.

I've seen my wife naked countless times over the last fifteen years, but it never gets old. Women don't seem to understand that. I could feel myself getting hard as my wife cluelessly exposed herself to me.

Or is it intentional? Is she trying to recreate last night's little show?

"I was thinking about what we discussed in the car," I mentioned casually, broaching a topic I wasn't sure I should.

"I'm sorry. I don't remember what we talked about," Brooke replied a little too quickly before sipping at her coffee. "I had a lot of those Cosmos."

"You told me about your peeping Tom fantasy."

"Shit," my wife muttered, and I could tell she regretted confessing that particular kink. "Can we just forget I said anything?"

"We can, but I have a better idea."

Brooke looked at me for the first time since sitting down. Setting her mug on the coffee table, she pivoted her body to face me full on. My eyes darted down between her legs before I could stop myself.

"What idea?" my wife asked warily. Her kimono had slipped open about an inch, and she looked sexy as all get out with her mussed auburn hair and sleepy green eyes.

"I was thinking we could help you live out your fantasy."

"And just who are you planning on having spy on me?" she asked with a dubious expression, but I noticed she didn't say no.

"I was thinking I'd do it."

"Wait... what?"

"Yeah. I was thinking that after I leave for poker night on Thursday, you could strip and spend your evening naked," I explained, suddenly feeling very lame now that I heard it out loud. It had sounded perfect in my head just before I dozed off the night before. "When I get home, I could stay outside and watch you instead of coming in."

"You want to peep on a woman you see naked and fuck all the time?" she asked incredulously.

"Yeah. You won't know when I'm coming home, so you'll spend all evening wondering if I'm watching you. It'll be hot to see you putting on a show."

I couldn't read Brooke's expression, but I'd passed the point of no return. If she found it silly or lame, I could live with the embarrassment. Fortunately, she happily jumped on the idea.

"OK. Let's do it," she said abruptly before turning back to the TV. Apparently, my wife didn't want to spoil things with too much prior discussion.

On Thursday, I came home from work to find Brooke locked in the master bath. I could hear the water in the tub as she moved around, and I actually got a little aroused that she was already preparing herself for our fun later on. Instead of using a nail to unlock the door and molest my bathing wife like I wanted, I went back to the kitchen to eat the casserole she'd left on the stove. Ten minutes later, I saw Brooke's face in our bedroom window as I backed out of the driveway.

What my wife didn't know is that I'd already called Mark and told him I couldn't make the game. Instead of going to his place, I drove to the Stop and Rob at the edge of our neighborhood and parked under a light on the edge of the lot. After buying a six pack and a few snacks, I shoved it all in a dark green backpack and took a leisurely stroll back home to give the sun time to slip beneath the horizon.

Wearing my black cargo pants, an old Army field jacket, and my black sneakers, I wasn't too worried about being spotted by my neighbors. I waited until I entered my yard to put on my black balaclava and leather gloves so I wouldn't look like a bank robber walking through our neighborhood. I kept to the shadows because I really didn't need some helpful citizen calling the police on behalf of my "violated" wife.

The January evening grew predictably chilly after sunset even though the last few days had been warm enough to melt the snow on the ground, but I'd dressed for the weather. What surprised me was how excited I felt as I sidled up to the family room window. Since my wife had no idea that I'd returned so soon, I really would be peeping on her. Adjusting my erection, I slowly leaned my head around the edge of the window just far enough to see into our home.

I half expected Brooke to still be clothed. If I'd really gone to the poker game, I wouldn't be back until around eleven, so she could've stripped at ten and still lived out her fantasy. To my shock, when I looked into the family room window at six fifteen, my wife already lay naked on our couch as she watched TV.

You have to understand that wearing that sexy dress at the party had been an exceptional aberration, and Brooke normally insists on being extremely prim and proper. She won't even take off her clothes on date night until we're climbing into bed. In fact, we'd never had sex anywhere else in our own house, and it hit me at that moment that I'd never seen her without clothes anyplace except in bed or the bath.

Seeing my wife naked in our own family room shouldn't have been a big deal, but I found it incredibly erotic. Brooke lay on her back with one leg bent and the other lying flat on the couch, presenting me with a wonderful view of the inside of her supple thigh. She had her arms up behind her neck, which left her breasts on full display as well. The material of our couch is a bit rough, and I wondered how stimulating it was for my wife to have that novel sensation.

I had to adjust myself again because I'd become fully erect. Somehow, watching my wife like this made the experience seem completely new despite the fact that I wasn't seeing anything I hadn't seen before. Well, that isn't exactly true.

It took me a few minutes, but I eventually noticed that Brooke had done some unprecedented grooming. Her freshly shaved pelvic bone shone in the overhead lights. Of course, I'd seen shaved women in porn, but seeing my wife like that after a decade and a half of her not even trimming along her bikini line provided an utterly fresh thrill.

It made her appear ten years younger and in a good way. As I stood there in my own back yard with one eye just barely around the window casing, I unbuttoned my fly and pulled out my rock hard cock. I felt instant relief after the pressure of being pent up in my briefs, and the frigid winter air felt good on my sex before I enveloped it in my hand.

I didn't stroke myself because I wanted to make this last, but that act of restraint tested me. While I'd believed this would be a fun little exercise that might get my wife in the mood in the middle of the week, I never expected it to affect me so intensely. When I noticed the wetness of precum on my hand, I stepped back from the window.

Calm the fuck down. You have a couple of hours before going inside...

Needing to distract myself and curious about what Brooke might be watching, I ducked down and crawled under the window to the other side. Coming back up, I looked at the TV and my mouth dropped open. Though I could only see the screen at an extreme angle, my wife was obviously watching porn because the people appeared naked and their movements could only be bouncing on trampolines or rigorous fucking.

Brooke rarely looked at porn and then only when we watched it together. She always turned her attention to me at her first opportunity, and I never complained since getting a blow job while watching porn isn't exactly a hardship. Seeing how intensely my wife stared at the screen, I realized I was witnessing an entirely different and hidden side of the woman I'd loved for over a decade and a half.

Needing more information, I crept around to the side of the house and looked in the other family room window, which provided a clear view of the TV. Five feet off the ground for privacy, this window allowed me to see the TV, but I couldn't see my wife who lay just on the other side of the wall. I suddenly found it hard to breathe.

The scene had changed as I'd moved around the house. On our big screen HDTV, I saw a crawling, naked woman being led around on a leash by an elderly man in an expensive suit and tie. Her black leather collar seemed too tight and wide to allow her to lower her chin. The blonde kept her knees wide, and she appeared content and eager to please her master.

What the actual fuck?

As I watched, the young woman allowed herself to be led around the lawn of some sort of expansive estate. After a minute or so, the man unhooked her collar from the leash and threw a big, realistic looking dildo about thirty feet away. The woman slithered across the freshly cut grass with the grace of a cat and enthusiastically fetched the dildo. Using only her mouth to pick it up, she then made her way back to the man in the suit to drop it on his black wingtips.

Now, I'm a guy. I'd seen porn like this and much worse. This domination video didn't even break my top ten for kinkiest, but knowing Brooke was watching it when she didn't even know I was there yet really hit me hard.

Did I even really know my wife? Not in a million years would I have thought she'd watch something like that. She's a feminist who actually sued her employer over sexual harassment, and Brooke volunteers on political campaigns to promote women's issues. Yet, here she was watching a woman completely submit to a man in a humiliating and dehumanizing way.

The video then switched to an interior shot with the woman restrained on a wooden table in some sort of dungeon. The man, still in his immaculate suit and tie, positioned a machine with what looked to be the same large dildo attached to it. Before I knew it, the machine rhythmically fucked the squirming woman while her master stood over her as he lightly flogged her tits and flat belly.

I hadn't snuck home to watch porn through a window. I came to watch me wife, so I returned to the back window. As I peered around the window jamb, I saw that Brooke had begun masturbating. She didn't go at herself frantically, but instead seemed to be just enjoying a leisurely masturbation session designed to extend her pleasure rather than achieve orgasm.