New Year's Revelation Ch. 4

Even before the "Poppy Day" confession, I had been aware that my resolve was weakening, and my resistance to the thought of my lovely Janet spreading her legs for another man's cock was gradually crumbling.

I had first thought about it, consciously, when she had described Tim's attempts to persuade her to take off her panties for him, and she had admitted that she would have done it, if he hadn't hinted at a 'wife-swap' arrangement. I had imagined, then, what would have happened if Tim hadn't blown it, and, in my excitement, hadn't been able to resist the image of Tim getting her so aroused with his tongue on her soaking crevice that she hadn't been able to resist the entry of his throbbing erection ...

The thought had set me on fire and it wasn't until I had cooled down, afterwards, that I found it disturbing, and disagreeable. But it continually recurred while Janet and I were making love – and talking, as we did, more and more, as part of our foreplay, following what I still thought of as our "New Year's revelations".

And now there was the Poppy Day incident. Janet had confessed to letting the old soldier strip her completely naked and tongue her clit to orgasm – to several multiple orgasms! She had also masturbated him with her hand, as she had done with Tim – but she had put his cock between her tits, as well, and made him come there, too. She said she hadn't put her mouth round his cock - or let him actually fuck her.

But her words burned continually in my mind - "His cock was great! It was long, and thick, and it never seemed to go really soft and limp. I know I said I wouldn't let him fuck me, but it wasn't because I didn't want him to! I really wanted to feel his big cock inside me, but – well, I wouldn't do that."

Especially - 'I really wanted to feel his big cock inside me'. Every time I thought of that, now, I knew I wanted her to have felt his "big cock " inside her, and I wanted, desperately, to have her tell me what it felt like.

And it was with deep regret that I now looked back on the events of last New Year, when, if I hadn't panicked, I knew I could have witnessed, and not just heard about, Janet being fucked by Hugh. I could see, again, Hugh's hand pushing aside her short red skirt and pressing against her panties as she thrust herself against his probing fingers – and, then, his finger sliding under the material and Janet's groan of excitement as it entered her.

I wished, now, that I had stayed silent, watching through the hatch, to see her panties drawn down her thighs; Hugh's fingers, then his lips, on her soaking slit; and then, finally, Janet's final surrender as she spread her thighs to allow his cock to breach the final barrier.

And I thought I knew why she said she would never do that – it was because of me. I had always drawn back from encouraging her to describe to me what she would feel to have another cock inside her. The more I thought about it, the more I became convinced that, given a green light from me, she would let another man have her, completely, if she was turned on enough.

In fact, I didn't even 'really' know that it hadn't happened already. It might have, but she didn't dare tell me about it. This was a new – and mind-blowing – thought. Maybe more had happened with Tim than she had admitted. Maybe – and my cock was so hard it was almost painful when I thought about it - she had let Tim pull down her knickers in his kitchen all those years ago – and maybe he had plunged his cock into her from behind as she bent over his kitchen table, her luscious tits squashed against the shiny Formica as he drove into her ....

Maybe, the old soldier had fucked her – and Jaime, in that hotel room. And, maybe, even Charlie had had her, up against the kitchen door, at that party ....

So I started encouraging Janet to go one step further, in her reminiscences – to tell me how much she would have liked to feel herself filled up with one of those cocks she had felt in her hand. At first, she was hesitant, but, when she realised I had lost my own inhibitions about the 'ultimate step', she let herself go and quivered with arousal as she fantasised about how she would have felt as a large erect cock slipped between her sensitive labia and filled up her lubricated channel.

Now, when she grabbed my cock and plunged it between her legs, I knew, in her mind, it was someone else's, and my own imagination soared as I pictured her parting her thighs and moaning in ecstasy at the invasion of yet another new, hard penis ....

But I still didn't get anything out of Janet about Hugh. I reckoned that might be because it was a bit too recent – and, also, Hugh was still around quite a bit.

I used to meet him every so often, just for a game of pool, and a drink – and Janet and I sometimes bumped into him at the shops or the supermarket. When that happened, I watched closely to see any signs passing between him and Janet, but they both carried it off very well – as though butter wouldn't melt in either of their mouths!

Sometimes, in bed, I'd mention his name, to see if I got a reaction, but she stayed cool, and I didn't dare push it. Despite our changed relationship, I still wasn't sure Janet would relish the thought of having been voyeured and, to be honest, I was still a little ashamed of my role in the events of last New Year's morning.

But then, in late November, Hugh rang me at work in a state of high excitement. He had landed a plum job in London, starting at the beginning of December. It was 'all systems go' – he had to get rid of his flat and find another one, in 'The Smoke', but, sure, he'd have time for a last game of pool, and a farewell drink before he went. We agreed to meet on the last Thursday in November, with our two other regular snooker partners, Roger and John, for a last thrash.

I was watching Janet carefully, as usual, when I told her the news, and I thought, this time, I detected more than the usual disappointment at the news of the impending departure of a casual friend.

What did upset her, though, was the news that our 'night out' was to be the following Thursday. Too late, I remembered that Thursday was 'our' regular night for taking out a couple of pornographic videos and watching them together, with loads of long, slow, stimulation, stripping and fantasy, with ourselves taking the places of the porn stars in the videos.

To pacify her, I promised not to be too late, and to take out one of her favourite videos – guaranteed to turn her on. Eventually, Janet was mollified, and said she'd have a bath and wash her hair while I was out. She's always really turned on after she's had a good soak in a bath, so I knew she didn't intend giving up on our night of passion, and made up my mind to go easy on the drinks, so that I'd be fit for what promised to be a great ending to Hugh's last night.

Then I realised the possibilities.

In the last eleven months, I had continually replayed the scenes of last New Year in my mind – Janet taking off her bra and holding her hands behind her head so that Hugh could feast his eyes on her naked breasts – then the gut-wrenching excitement as his hand pushed her skirt up and his fingers pushed against her panties, then slid underneath, as she moaned with excitement.

And now, surely, was a chance to see that again – and, this time, well, I knew, now, that, if Janet was willing, I wanted to see it all. Surely, if I arranged it so that everything happened as before, there was every chance of history repeating itself – especially with the added safeguard of Hugh's impending departure reducing the chances of possible future complications.

My balls tightened at the thought, and I knew I was going to try it, at least. The main question was whether I could 'act' the drunk well enough to convince that they were safe from any interruption – oh, how I hoped that I could!

As the week wore on, and Thursday approached, I began to feel more and more nervous – alternately excited and depressed. As the time grew nearer, I had less and less confidence about the success of the proposed scheme, and, when Hugh eventually called at half-past seven, I was convinced there was no way it could work – and had actually taken out a video for Janet and me to enjoy when I got back later!

Hugh arrived on time and chatted with Janet for a few minutes. She said she was sorry he was going, wished him the best of luck and kissed him goodbye. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the kiss, carefully, but it seemed like just a 'peck' between friends and, if Janet's eyes were a little bright when they parted – well, she tends to be a bit emotional, anyway.

By now, I was not only certain of failure, but I was feeling a bit of a heel for even having thought of trying to set something up. Obviously, New Year had been a 'one-off' – a moment of emotional weakness, as far as Janet was concerned – spurred on by what I was now beginning to recognise as a wanton streak in her nature, and the fact that I had been unfit for anything in that line on the night in question – apparently!

Janet kissed me goodbye, as well, and told me not to be too late, and Hugh and I walked down the stairs. Hugh was a bit amused, having read, correctly, the hidden message in Janet's parting admonition. Then he shook me by saying, still in a light-hearted vein – "You wouldn't catch me going out to play pool if I had that waiting for me at home!"

It was an ideal opportunity for me to say something which would help the 'plan' along, but, for the life of me, I couldn't think of anything that didn't sound contrived and strained, so the moment passed by, and I cursed my own stupidity.

Then, as we got to the car, Hugh said that Roger had rung to say that he was taking his car, after all, and would be bringing John to the club. Now, this was a plus. Under the original arrangements, I would have been first to be dropped off at the end of the night, leaving the other two still to be taken home. I had worked out a scheme to deal with that, but with no guarantee of success, and my spirits, which had been drooping, lifted a little.

When we arrived, the other two were already there and, in keeping with the plan, I immediately started drinking whisky, instead of my usual beer. Surprisingly, in view of all that was on my mind, my standard of play was very good, and Roger and I wiped the floor with Hugh and John. This gave me a bit of an excuse to 'hit the bottle', which I apparently proceeded to do - but, in fact, I was surreptitiously pouring most of the whisky onto the carpet ....

At about half-past ten, Roger said he would have to go, as he had an early start the next day. Hugh offered John a lift but, after some hesitation, John decided – much to my relief – to leave with Roger.

That left the two of us, and Hugh, not being much of a drinker, began to hint that we, too, should get away. By now playing the drunk for all I was worth, I promised to go after 'one for the road' and, once I had bought myself a double, I pretended to remember Janet's last remark, and started to talk a bit indiscreetly about our sex life.

At first, Hugh was a bit offhand, even embarrassed, but, once I started going into a bit of detail, I could see his interest becoming aroused. I made a couple of references to Janet's 'tits', and Hugh's eyes glinted, but, just when I seemed to be about to give him a full description of what they looked, and felt, like, I made a typical 'drunk's' spontaneous decision that it was time to go.

As we emerged from the club, I suddenly became even the worse for wear, and hardly made it to the car. I mumbled incoherently all the way home and, when we arrived, insisted that Hugh take me up in the elevator and 'explain' to Janet. Hugh wasn't keen, but he eventually agreed, and I let him half-carry from the left to our door, where I 'discovered' that I'd 'forgotten' my keys.

I leaned against the wall as Hugh pressed the bell, my heart thumping, and my scrotum tightening in anticipation as the moment of truth approached. My earlier guilt about what I had planned and schemed for had completely disappeared, overwhelmed by mixed feelings of acute arousal, and apprehension that it might all go wrong.

Janet opened the door. Her hair was still fairly damp, and shining, as it tumbled over the shoulders of her red silk robe. This was full-length, with lapels, and no buttons, tied at the middle with a sash. She was bare-foot, and was wearing her glasses. Her cheeks were flushed, and became even redder as she took in the situation at a glance.

Hugh started to apologise, but Janet immediately pardoned him, making it clear that her annoyance was with me – which was what I wanted. I began to slide down the wall, and Hugh grabbed me. Automatically, Janet came to his aid and, with one of them either side, they supported me into the flat.

I wanted to keep them together and, if possible, have them cooperate in undressing me, so I kept collapsing as they struggled to get me into the bedroom. At last, they got me onto the bed, where I tried to look as uncomfortable in my clothes. Sure enough, Hugh suggested they had better take some of my clothes off, and they both bent over me to start removing my coat and jacket.

I noticed Janet's glasses had disappeared – it may have been because she was nervous of them being knocked off, but I was fairly sure it was because she didn't want to have them on, around Hugh. I lay, prone, with my jacket and coat removed, while Hugh pulled off my shoes and Janet undid my trouser belt. They were now laughing quietly, and I could see, through my half-closed eyes, that Hugh was casting glances down the front of Janet's robe, as she bent over me.

My cock started to stiffen at this thought and, as Hugh removed my shoes, I rolled on to my side, making Janet jump back. I began to snore, as realistically as I could. Janet made an irritated sound and dragged my trousers down. I tried, desperately, to hide my erection, and she didn't seem to notice it as she pulled the duvet over me, and stood up.

The two of them stood, looking at me – Hugh at the end of the bed and Janet at the side.

"He's out for the count," Hugh murmured.

"Yes," replied Janet, looking down at me.

"We must stop meeting like this," said Hugh, and Janet laughed – a little nervously, I thought, and my heart beat a little faster. At least she was aware that she was in a 'situation' here, where something might develop. And how could she not be – after the last time they met 'like this'?

Hugh didn't move. I realised he was, effectively, barring Janet's way out of our small bedroom, and that Janet was aware of this. I stopped snoring. There was an awkward silence.

"Well," said Janet, at last, stepping towards the door. "Would you like a coffee, Hugh?"

He didn't move. I felt I could see into his mind, at that moment. He wanted to try a repeat of what had happened the last time – but, then, Janet had had a few drinks and, now, she was showing no signs of wanting something to happen. Hugh wanted to try something, but he was afraid of rejection.

He didn't speak, but he didn't move, and Janet stopped only a couple of feet from him. She half-turned to look at me, again, not knowing what else to do.

Again, there was a short silence, as they both looked down at me but, undoubtedly, were thinking of each other. Then Hugh, tentatively, stretched his arm out and put it round her shoulders.

As his hand touched her shoulder, Janet stiffened for a second – then relaxed, leaning her body slightly towards him. Hugh stepped forward and placed his other hand under her jawline, turning her face up to him.

"Hugh," she whispered, her voice a strange mixture of entreaty and warning. His hand gently stroked her cheek, then her hair, and her neck. He bent his head towards her, and found her lips.

At first, she stood, passive, as he kissed her, then she moved into him and returned his kiss. His hands pulled her close, while hers stayed by her sides. Then one of his hands dropped below her sash and moved over her hips.

She lifted her arms and pushed his shoulders, at the same time breaking their kiss. "No, Hugh," she whispered. His finger was now tracing the cleft between the cheeks of her bottom and, again, his mouth closed on hers.

Janet's hands were still on his shoulders but, as I watched, my cock rigid and uncomfortable, I saw the lower half of her body begin to rotate, slowly, into his, and her hands crept round his neck.

I watched, breathless and dry-mouthed, as Janet abandoned herself to Hugh's kiss, and saw his other hand gently insinuate itself up the front of her robe. As it closed round the silk encasing the firm swell of her breast, his lips moved swiftly down to Janet's neck, and he arched his body back as his hand closed boldly on her breast and squeezed it.

Janet allowed it for only a second or two, however, then she broke free, breathing heavily. Hugh didn't seem put out by this, however, and just stood still, his eyes blatantly admiring the curves hidden, yet accentuated by the clinging silk of her robe.

Janet opened her mouth, but he forestalled her.

"Pete was right – your tits are sensational."

Janet glanced quickly at me, then turned back to Hugh.

"Did he say that?"

"Not in so many words – but that was the general idea," he replied, coolly. "Of course," he added, with a hint of mischief in his voice, "I knew that already!"

"You didn't ...?"

"Tell him? No!" he laughed, quietly. "He wouldn't have remembered, if I had, anyway."

His eyes, again, were surveying Janet's body and she folded her arms over her breasts, defensively.

"I wish you'd stop looking at me like that," she murmured.

"No, you don't," answered Hugh, quietly. "It excites you. That's why I do it. Right now, you'd like to let your robe slide away and let me have a real look at you. Most girls with nice tits would do that, if they didn't think it would become common knowledge."

"That's not true," whispered Janet.

"Yes, it is," said Hugh. "I've talked girlfriends into giving some stranger an accidental 'flash' and it's always turned them on enormously. Sheila loves to stand, naked, at the bedroom window, when I tell her to, and she's always as wet as hell when she comes back to bed! Only – her tits are nowhere near as nice as yours ... "

"Does anyone ever see her?" breathed Janet, her eyes straying, involuntarily, to our bedroom window.

"Who knows?" laughed Hugh. "I expect someone has – an unexpected bonus for taking the dog for a walk!"

He looked at her, quizzically. "Do you do it – for Pete?"

"What?"

"Stand at the window – showing your tits."

Janet didn't answer.

Our flat is on the 5th floor, overlooking the motorway, and, when we were first married, Janet insisted on having the bedroom curtains drawn, to shut out some of the light, as she preferred to make love in the dark, and was shy about letting me look at her body. Over time, though, I've persuaded her to lose some of her inhibitions.

Eventually, she was OK about leaving the curtains open – and about me arranging the mirrors in our room so that I could watch as we make love – and she is now at the stage where, if I get her really aroused, I can get her to pose at the window for a few seconds. Anyone just driving past on the motorway would be unlikely to spot her, but, if he knew where to look, he'd get a wonderful view, as our window-sill is only knee-height and, because we're so close to the motorway lights, it's as clear as daylight.

I've tested it out and, at about 30 mph, you get a good 5 to 10 seconds – not that Janet was at the window when I tried it out, but I love to think some lorry-driver or sales rep has had an unexpected treat, now and again ...

"Do it, now," breathed Hugh. "Go on – I dare you! You don't have to show me. Just go over to the window and pull your robe open. You've nothing on under it - have you? Just walk over and open it – wide. I'll be behind you – I won't see anything."