Oscar and Irene Pt. 01

Irene later told me that she had made the decision to give Matt some play, had he put the moves on her.

"What do you mean some play?" I asked, my cock throbbing in my pants as I waited for Irene's clarification.

My wife never elaborated on her intentions as far as Matt was concerned, but it never progressed beyond making out, at least that particular night. My wife and her boss exchanged a tender kiss for the first time that night, their lips barely grazing, as they tried to demonstrate their affection for each other, while trying to respect the fact that they were at work.

"Is he a good kisser?" I asked, my interest getting the best of me.

"Fantastic," my wife responded, realizing that I was getting off on their intimate connection. "My panties were soaked when we finally stopped making out."

Foot rubs became a regular late-night occurrence in my wife's office, and then one night Matt tried to take her stockings off. When he realized she was wearing tights, he let her know his thoughts.

"I want you to wear stockings whenever you are at work, from now on," he instructed her.

"Like a garter-belt and stockings?" she asked playfully.

"Exactly," he responded confidently. "Consider it the new dress code."

I guess that this was the point in their relationship when Matt started to assert himself, and Irene responded favorably. She went to Victoria's Secret the following day, and bought several garter-belts and matching stockings, in different colors. From that day forward, she dressed a lot more sexily while at work, the inference that she was available for her boss, should he desire to make the next move.

Matt made my wife orgasm shortly after he changed her dress code. They were alone in the office after a long day's work, and he had relaxed her with an extended neck massage. Irene was sitting on her desk, and as he stood behind her, with his hands on her shoulders, she placed her neatly manicured hands upon his, and leaned back onto him. Matt made no attempt to hide his erection, and as she felt it poking into her back, she reached one hand behind her and gave it a squeeze. This was only the second cock that she had ever touched, albeit through the wool of his expensive suit pants, and it seemed a much more impressive specimen than Oscar's.

Irene loved her husband very much, but over the years, after frank conversations with her female friends, she was coming to the realization that Oscar possessed a very average cock, both in size and girth. It felt great when they made love, but to hear some of her friends boast about their husbands' cocks filling them completely, made her jealous. Oscar, when erect, was adequate for the task in hand, but he certainly never filled her up. In fact, one of her single friends, who used a cervical cap for birth control, claimed that her lover routinely dislodged her device from her cervix, such was the impressive size of his cock.

Irene was determined to be faithful to her husband of fifteen years, but having been presented with the opportunity to have a closer look at this larger cock, she took it. Her sexual inexperience, coupled with her sheltered upbringing, combined to suppress her inquisitiveness when it came to other men, but she really felt a strong connection to Matt, and she wanted to see what he had between his thighs.

My wife told me that she continued to stroke her boss through his expensive, tailored pants, his erection throbbing between her fingers, as it fought against the confines of his underwear. She felt him lean over her and kiss her gently on the top of her head, which was followed immediately by the familiar tingle between her legs, which was getting increasingly more difficult for her to ignore.

Oscar made a valiant effort in the bedroom, and had to be awarded ten out of ten for trying. However, ever since Irene had encountered Brandon in the dry-cleaners, Oscar had developed a severe premature ejaculation issue. The last several times they had made love, Oscar had blown his load almost immediately, after she mentioned her desire for Brandon. In his defense, he had eaten her to orgasm shortly after he came inside her, but she wanted a man with more stamina.

As she stroked her boss through his pants, his erection remained strong, and she pondered whether or not he would be a good lover. Matt circled slowly around her, until they were facing each other. She spread her knees apart slightly, inviting him to step between them, the most overt sign of availability that she had given him, since the day they first met.

Matt was trying to be a gentleman, but it had been seven years since he was last intimate with a woman, and his hormones were raging. Irene leaned into him, and they started to kiss, tentatively at first, but then with much more intensity. Matt was a great kisser, and my wife admitted that her panties got damp, as she began to self-lubricate.

My wife was a very innocent woman, as far as sex was concerned, but as Matt moved towards her, she parted her legs, thereby inviting him to move even closer. She was wearing an expensive silk suit, the skirt of which had been recently altered, to make it shorter. As Matt moved closer to her, the hem of her skirt was forced towards her, and this exposed the straps of the dusty pink garter-belt that she was wearing.

My wife told me that she looked down in disbelief as she tried to process what was happening. She felt removed from her body, like it wasn't really her behaving so wantonly. Her shapely legs were exposed, the straps of her garter-belt visible where they attached to her expensive silk stockings. Matt's groin was pressed against hers, his erection obvious in his tailored pants. Only the material of his suit pants, and the tiny silk panties that Irene had selected to wear to work this morning, separated their sexual organs.

Matt didn't know this, but Irene had worn panties that matched her garter-belt, both in style and shade. In addition, in an attempt to be accessible to her boss, she had put them on last, after her stockings were secured, so that they could be easily removed if things at work got heated. She was a little self-conscious knowing that her panties were damp, but she had already made the decision that she wouldn't resist Matt, if he decided to take them from her.

As it happened, tonight was not going to be the night for my wife to take her second lover. Matt, ever the gentleman, and cognizant of the fact that her desk was probably not the optimum environment for him to fuck his subordinate, slowed down his advances, and they parted shortly afterwards, both breathing heavily, and in a high state of arousal. After they had both used the restroom, and gained at least partial composure, Matt walked my wife to her car. They exchanged an open-mouthed goodnight kiss, which quickly turned into a protracted dry-humping over the trunk of her car, during which, my wife confessed to me, she contemplated allowing Matt to fuck her.

"In the parking structure, Irene?" I said incredulously. "Did you even think it through?" I asked, my jealousy rapidly surfacing.

"It was completely pre-meditated," she assured me. "I even removed my panties in the restroom, to make it easier for Matt to enter me."

I heard myself condemning her actions as reckless and selfish, but my cock was rising in my underwear, as I contemplated my wife getting fucked over the trunk of her car, in the dimly-lit parking structure. It seemed so lewd, and yet so fucking hot!

"What happened next," I whispered hoarsely, my excitement getting the best of me.

"Matt is the quintessential gentlemen," Irene enthused. "We kissed goodnight, and even after I tucked my panties into the pocket of his suit jacket, he remained so."

"You gave him your panties?" I growled, as I moved towards my wife, consumed by lust. "Why, as a fucking souvenir?"

"More as a sign of intent to let him fuck me, next time," Irene taunted me. "In a more appropriate location, like a nice hotel room," she added, enjoying my torment.

I have always been respectful towards my wife of fifteen years, but as she continued to taunt me, my jealousy got the best of me, and I manhandled her onto our bed. Irene responded favorably to my take-charge attitude, and spread her legs to facilitate my entry. I slid one hand up her skirt, to gauge her level of readiness, and she responded with another cruel taunt.

"I am ready, Oscar. Matt made me so wet, and I am not wearing any panties. Matt left the parking garage with them in his pocket," she teased.

I eased between her stocking-clad thighs, admiring her new garter-belt as I hiked her skirt up. She was very wet, and without any need of foreplay, I slid right inside her.

"Oh, yeah, you feel so good," she cried out. "I thought Matt was going to get balls-deep in me tonight."

Even though I had been struggling with premature ejaculation the last few times Irene and I had sex, tonight set a new low in my efforts to satisfy her. As she continued to tease me about her new lover, I erupted deep inside her within just a few frantic strokes. I had a very powerful, tremendously satisfying orgasm, before my euphoria was replaced with shame.

Shame that I had manhandled her into position, shame that I had allowed myself to use Matt's ongoing seduction of my wife to fuel my desire, and shame that I had selfishly allowed myself to orgasm, before Irene was remotely satisfied.

By contrast, my wife seemed thrilled with my lack of control, and as I laid on top of her catching my breath, she turned her focus back to Matt.

"I don't know what has come over me, Oscar," she said, as she stoked my hair. "I want Matt to make love to me more than anything else in the world. I just hope he will understand my lack of experience."

I could scarcely believe that Irene, my loving wife of fifteen years, was contemplating sex with another man, let alone sharing her desires with me. However, as she continued to question whether she would be enough for him, whether she should allow him to expand her very limited horizons, and even whether she would be able to accommodate his considerable length and girth, I felt myself get hard again.

I am not sure what Irene got out of our encounter that night, other than possibly the validation that she was making the right decision to sleep with her boss. However, as I grunted and groaned my way to my second orgasm, she lay there patiently, without much indication of her own pleasure.

When I got close to orgasm, she began to taunt me again, detailing my physical shortcomings, when compared to Matt. Admittedly, I am not a physically imposing individual, being a touch overweight, and more inclined to have a second helping of dessert, than to go to the gym. However, as she catalogued his traits of desirability, I realized that they were definitely, one hundred percent, destined to fuck.