Nikki Pt. 01

I realise this may not go 'far enough' for some readers but I hope you enjoy it. This explores the themes of loving wives, exhibitionism, candaulism and (mild) cuckoldry in a naturalistic way. This is a work of fiction and the situation, names and characters are made up.

1 — Nikki — part one

In which Simon and Nikki get acquainted with the Artist.

-

Simon knew he was addicted to 'housewife' porn. Today, again, he was in front of the laptop with his cock in hand. His other hand was scrolling through a selection of mature 'everyday' wives displaying themselves for the camera. He was pulling hard, his mind filled with a mix of excitement, lust and, yes, jealousy. These husbands and wives were living their best life. They didn't care if they were not toned and athletic and young. And the wives were shamelessly giving pleasure to their husbands (and others) through the lens. Dammit, why had he never been able to get his own wife, Nikki to behave like this?

There was one wife in the collection today that looked much like Nikki. Dark eyes, short hair, wide hips and large full breasts. Clearly, from her stretch marks, she had been a mother. In the picture, her thick thighs were spread and two fingers were dug deep in her pussy. Her mouth was open, gasping, as she gazed into the camera. Simon spurted a jet of hot, thick cum into a wad of tissues. Just as he did this, he heard a car pull up outside. Nikki was home early! He slammed the laptop shut and started cleaning up rapidly.

-

Just as he finished, his wife came through the door. As always, Simon was able to pretend he had been hard at work on a client's accounts in his home office all afternoon.

Nikki was 52 years old and, although she had moved to the UK from Portugal many years ago she still had a strong accent. Simon loved her and, he was certain, she loved him. They had been married thirty-five years. He had been her first and only partner. She had been his third. They had two wonderful children who were grown up and at universities. The nest they had built with hard work and time was soon to be empty.

Sex had been good enough when they were younger, but he had never been able to explain to her his desire for her to be more wanton, more adventurous or even just to dress provocatively. When he had suggested naughty photos some years back she had rejected the idea outright.

Sex was now functional and infrequent. The same routine, minimal foreplay then missionary with the lights out. Sometimes, after some wine, Nikki would let go a little more, but she didn't drink that often.

Simon wasn't even sure if his wife masturbated like he did. He doubted it. It felt like she just didn't need sex. He never wanted to be unfaithful to her. He would never want to hurt her. Pornography and self-pleasure had been his release.

-

The art exhibition was at a small local gallery. When Simon and Nikki arrived that night, the Private View was already in full swing with a crowd of people similar in age to themselves, but from a very different creative world.

They felt out of place among all the t-shirts and jeans, him in a suit and tie and her in heels and black office dress.

Despite not feeling like it was 'their thing' it was Simon's idea to go. The Artist was an old friend from university. Simon had rediscovered him on social media a few months ago, having been out of contact for many years. When he realised they lived close by, the Artist had insisted he come along to the show. Nikki liked art. She knew the names of sculpters and painters so on. She was often wanting to go to exhibitions, but like lots of culture, it sort of left Simon lost. He didn't 'get it'. And he had no confidence in what was good or bad. Nikki was delighted and surprised he suggested this.

-

The Artist was busy chatting up guests so they got on with viewing the pictures and drinking the mediocre and warm white wine on offer. The Artist's style was loose, in charcoal and watercolour. They were very pleasing on the eye. And, thankfully for Simon, required no extra understanding of art. He clearly just drew things he looked at. Dogs, boats, trees, buildings, and... lots of naked people.

Simon was delighted at how many naked figures there were on display. Some men, but mostly women. All drawn in his free, energetic style. Simon had to admit, he liked the pictures. The women looked alive, confident in themselves and, interestingly, were of all shapes and sizes. Real women. Not just the athletic young female forms you often saw in that sort of thing. And around the gallery, men and women were looking at the pictures with no shame or embarrassment. They were just enjoying the celebration of the naked form.

-

The Artist came over to talk. Just as Simon remembered him, friendly and charismatic. He was tall, grey-haired, but still good-looking with an easy, happy manner. He took time to chat and hear updates about their family taking particular interest in Nikki. However, he explained, he couldn't talk for long. Tonight, he had to chat up potential customers and models. Simon was surprised. 'Some of these people are the models?' He asked, looking round at the people in the gallery.

The Artist nodded, 'I don't often draw professional life models. Most of my subjects are ordinary people who have never done it before.' He pointed to a middle-aged woman on the other side of the room and stage whispered, 'Fiona, over there, is this lady in this picture just here.' He indicated a reclining nude on the wall behind them. Despite himself, Simon felt his cock twitch in his trousers. There was a thrill to this information. The clothed woman in the room and her naked self exposed in the picture beside him. He glanced at Nikki. She was just smiling and nodding. She seemed enthralled by the Artist. She had always liked creative people.

Simon went to get more of the tepid wine. At the drinks table, he found himself cornered by a twitchy, bald man with yellow teeth and food crumbs lodged in his unkempt beard. Another artist. Apparently. Simon politely nodded as Beardy pontificated about the influence a bunch of artists he had never heard of.

Searching for an escape route, Simon looked across the gallery to see Nikki and his Artist friend were chatting. Nikki was smiling while they discussed one of his pictures. Not of boats or landscapes. It was another nude. Beardy followed Simon's gaze, 'Aha! Looks like he's found another victim!''

Simon wrested his eyes away. 'What do you mean?' Beardy grinned, showing wonky teeth, 'That little posh wife over there with the big tits. She's just his type. He'll be explaining how liberating it is, how self-affirming and then he'll suggest she should pose for him and try it. Next thing she'll have her kit off for him, mark my words. He's a genius at it.' Beardy swigged the last of his wine with a sigh. 'Jammy bastard.'

-

Simon looked back at his wife chatting to the Artist. She seemed to be hanging on his every word. Simon found the way this lecherous bloke had described his wife highly exciting.

'You're right, she does look like she has a good figure.' Simon gave Beardy his glass of wine. Beardy took it gladly and surveyed Nikki again, 'She's got a lovely arse on her too. He won't have missed that. He likes drawing them bent over displaying their best asset. I bet she'd be a sight like that. Little glimpse of her mummy cunt showing between her thick thighs.' Beardy, blinked realising he might have crossed a line. 'Sorry, I'm not offending you am I?'

Simon shook his head as though it was perfectly a reasonable thing to say, not sure how far he could push the pretence that he didn't know his own wife, 'Do you think he ever, um, goes further with his models?'

Beardy grinned lecherously, 'I've heard rumours. The women always fall for it. Romantic, isn't it, posing for an artist. And he's bloody good.' Beardy gulped the wine. 'Fucker. I wish I had his talent.' With that he handed Simon the empty glass back and pushed his way off to the bar to get more free alchohol.

Simon found hearing his wife discussed in this crude way by another man a turn on. It was not something he had experienced before. Watching her through another man's eyes was highly erotic.

The Artist smiled as Simon approached. 'Nikki and I have been talking. I said she should pose for me. And she's just agreed' Simon choked. 'Did she?!' Nikki laughed and slapped the Artist's arm, 'No I did not say that thing! I said that is a thing I would never have the courage to do! I am too old. Too fat!' The Artist snorted, 'Ridiculous! You look incredible. Talk to her, Simon! She'd love it. You wouldn't mind, would you?' Simon hesitated. And realised Nikki was looking at him. 'No. I wouldn't mind.' He suddenly blurted, 'I'd love her to.' Nikki looked shocked, 'Would you?!'

Simon quickly corrected himself, 'I mean I'd love her too, but we couldn't afford it. I know you charge a fair bit for a commission.' The Artist grinned, 'Nonsense, you are an old friend. I'd do it for free!' He clapped Simon on the shoulder, 'That's settled then. Nikki can email me to set it up.' He went off to chat to more guests. Simon turned to Nikki expecting her to look daggers at him, but she had a strange look on her face he couldn't read.

End of part one