Pablo

My name is Shelly, and I love giving my husband a hard-on. It is one of my joys in life. I guess I'm a bit of a control freak. And the ability to make my husband's cock swell is certainly control! Don't get me wrong, I like sex too. But the foreplay leading up to it, really making my husband yearn for it, is a thrill. Even talking about it makes my heart race and my juices flow. I guess I'm a bit of a tease as well, but only with my husband. I have never strayed, nor ever plan to.

And I'm really good at it, and enjoy being good at it. There are so many ways I do it, and my husband is an easy play. So much easily excites him. The way I seductively kiss him, or allow my breasts to just graze him in passing. Or by the provocative outfits I wear, and how I do my hair, nails, and makeup. Even a seductive look or whisper tends to get his engine going. And then there are the high heels. Lots of high heels. I don't know how many I own! But they are a huge weapon in my arsenal. I have perfected a walk that highlights the sway of my hips, causes the cheeks of my bubble butt to contract violently, and my large breasts to bounce perfectly.

My husband is truly the joy of my life. I love him so much. He is a great man and a great leader. I have such a fulfilled, loving, committed marriage.

After saving for years, my husband finally fulfilled his promise to me. A year overseas living in a Mediterranean villa. We selected a fairly secluded property, not too far from a large European city. When we arrived, I could not have been more pleased. The place was large and immaculate. While marble floors with bright walls and ceilings. The entire place had the typical bright white Mediterranean look, with high ceilings and flowing white cascading silk drapes. I was in heaven. I could just picture myself striding around, my high heels clicking on the hard marble, my tanned complexion contrasting against the white backdrop.

There was just one major oversight. The villa had also been rented by another person. A young man, much younger than my husband and I. Pablo was cute and seemed nice, probably Brazilian. We were all a bit confused by the mixup. Pablo arrived a week ago to receive some special treatment only offered at the local hospital. He had chosen the villa for the healthy fresh air, and the nearby bus stop that could take him to the hospital.

We called our booking company, and they were no help. We certainly didn't want to kick out this young man to the curb. But I REALLY liked the villa and wanted to stay. My husband and I talked, and since it sounded like Pablo's stay may not last very long, we all agreed to make the best of it. With the mild Mediterranean climate, the villa was full of open spaces. It would be easy to stay out of each other's way. We each took a master suite on opposite ends of the main house. In between the rooms was an expansive living area, containing a large chef's kitchen, and multiple living and dining spaces.

Still, I had some reservations.

"There's not a lot of privacy, sharing that main area with Pablo," I complained to my husband later that night.

"Oh don't worry, honey. There's plenty of space in this villa. Let's make the best of it."

My husband found a bit of an office nook in our master bedroom where he planned to spend much of his day, working his job remotely. But I was still a bit disappointed with the situation. I had been dreaming about our stay for years. I had slowly been buying new provocative outfits just for our Mediterranean stay. Yet with my husband hiding in our master suite, and Pablo often hanging around the main area, how was I going to tease my husband?

It took some adjustments, but I slowly found how to make it work. With Pablo around, I kept to my most reserved outfits. I often wore a loose wrap that I could leave open in our master suite, but close the material around me when I went into the main area. With my husband focused on his computer screen, my weapons of arousal were limited. Still, I found that I could lean over his shoulder, pressing my chest against his back, whispering suggestive remarks in his ear. Just when he began to notice me, and I began to notice his crotch beginning to bulge, the tease in me would walk away.

Pablo was a very nice young man. His thick Portuguese accent was so fun to listen to. I found myself finding excuses to chat with him. He was so comfortable to be with. I was so glad that our shared housing situation was working. In fact, Pablo was a bit of a gift. I had not realized how easily bored I could become without the regular distractions I had back home.

I was not disappointed to occasionally catch Pablo eye's following my supple figure. While I am fully faithful to my husband, what woman isn't pleased when another man notices them? I made sure to cover myself appropriately around Pablo, though my wrap could only hide so much. I still fixed up my long wavy hair as always, applying makeup and doing my nails as if I was a celebrity. I was still on vacation, afterall! Eventually, I missed the feel of those high heels on my feet. So I tossed my flip flops aside, and finally enjoyed the sound of them clicking on the marble.

This certainly made it easy for Pablo to find me. Wherever I walked, I was announcing my presence. I chuckled to myself, at Pablo's behavior. He was expertly finding a way to always be around me, positioning himself for a good view. He was a man after all, I reflected. No harm in that. And I had become quite comfortable around him anyway. Sometimes we would drink coffee or share a glass of wine, seated opposite each other at our kitchen nook or one of the outside patios.

One afternoon, while my husband and I were preparing dinner, Pablo returned from one of his treatments at the hospital and joined us. I could tell there was something on his mind. He seemed almost depressed. After we cleared the table, Pablo broke his silence.

"I need to tell you all something. It is a bit embarrassing." He paused to catch his breath.

"I am so grateful for letting me stay here. I think there is something you should know," he continued.

My husband and I leaned forward in our seats, giving our support to Pablo. We both liked him and cared for him. Often my husband would recreate with Pablo outside in the evenings. Their friendship seemed as comfortable as mine was with him.

Pablo continued, "I have cancer. Testicular cancer."

My husband and I gasped, offering our condolences. What a surprise to learn that a deadly disease lived inside such a strong, healthy young man.

"I have tried all of the treatments. None of them have worked. I am here because this hospital is doing a trial treatment on me. It is my last hope."

Pablo nervously swallowed. There was obviously more to tell.

"The trial treatment requires me to ejaculate my sperm daily. This will cleanse my testicles. This can be a difficult thing for me because of their instructions. I cannot masterbate. I cannot watch porn. Those methods would taint the cleansing."

We tried to mask our looks of surprise and confusion.

"You happened to arrive at just the right time. With no girlfriend to help me ejaculate naturally, I was losing hope that I could continue my treatment."

This was getting a bit awkward. What was he getting at?

"The medication I am on makes it easier to reach a climax." Pablo looked at my husband. "I have been watching your wife, and climaxing in my pants." Pablo immediately looked down in shame.

My husband and I glanced at each other. Without any special treatment medication, my husband had always struggled with any kind of sexual endurance. Ejaculating in his pants had occurred to him on more than one occasion. I expected him to answer Pablo with understanding and kindness.

"Pablo, look at me," my husband said. "There is no need to feel shame. Thank you for being honest with me. That shows real maturity and character. We trust you."

My husband continued to take the lead. "Why don't you let me and my wife talk about this privately, and we will see you tomorrow." With that, Pablo got up and walked to his room.

In the privacy of our master suite I spoke, "I don't know what to say. How odd. How gross! How sad."

My husband and I discussed the situation at length. My loving husband was so concerned for my feelings. He didn't want me to feel used or unprotected. So he wanted to hear from me and my wishes before he made a decision.

My husband said, "If Pablo had never told us what was going on, we would have never known. And he would still be able to continue his treatment. It took a lot of courage for him to tell us. It seems wrong to now punish him for his honesty. And there was nothing wrong or immoral going on before, and knowing now doesn't change that."

I nodded in agreement.

He continued, "So do we agree we can tell Pablo tomorrow that he can continue to stay at the villa. That he can continue to watch you, as gross as that sounds?"

I nodded again, and we held each other in a long embrace. I never felt closer to my husband. He has always been so kind and sensitive to others.

So after telling Pablo the next day, we continued our days as usual. I must say that initially it was very disarming. As I walked around the villa, with Pablo's eyes following me, I did not like it anymore. I felt like a piece of meat. During our conversations, when his eyes strayed to my body, I became bitter. I felt like he had been using me. I was always thinking about him blowing his load in his pants. My husband quickly picked up on my funk.

"Honey, what's bothering you. Is this new arrangement not working."

"I don't know," I replied. "It seems different now. I don't know how to act normal around Pablo."

My husband paused in thought. Always quick to listen. He wanted to help.

"Has Pablo been mean to you?" I shook my head.

"Has Pablo done something wrong?" Again I shook my head.

"Do you think Pablo is a good person?" I nodded.

My husband was deep in thought. "You know how you often give me hugs during the day, or tease me with your walk?"

I nodded and smiled, pleased that my husband was aware of my intentional flirtations with him.

Smiling as well, my husband continued. "Well, you are really good at it. It comes natural to you, almost a gift. Perhaps you need to allow yourself to be more natural with Pablo, and that can remove this wall between the two of you."

I don't know, I thought to myself. There was a big difference between tantalizing my husband and flirting with another man. My mind was conflicted, but I didn't want to speak it out loud. To my husband, it was not that complicated. He just didn't understand the practical immorality of it all.

My husband waited, expecting a reply from me. He was hoping to bring resolution to my conflict. He loved a happy wife.

Eventually I nodded. "That makes sense, honey. Thanks for helping out," as I got up and gave him a hug.

Slowly I became more comfortable around Pablo. Occasionally we would even chat about our strange situation over our glass of wine.

My husband thought it best for the three of us to review Pablo's treatment at a weekly Sunday dinner.

"So, how's the treatment going, Pablo," my husband asked.

"OK, I guess. I feel fine. This past week I only hit my goal 5 times."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"I am supposed to ejaculate once a day. My goal is 7 times."

Concern on his face, my husband asked, "Why did you not meet your goal?"

"My body is slowly becoming more numb to stimulation. It is becoming harder to climax."

My husband glanced over at me. We had already agreed that any uncomfortable conversations should be had openly with all three of us.

"What can we do to help?" he asked.

"I don't know. I feel bad suggesting anything. Your wife is so beautiful. I really enjoy her company. Perhaps she can dress more..." Pablo paused. "Sexy?"

How ironic, I thought. I had been working so hard to not dress sexy, to protect the covenant of our marriage. And now the very thing I was doing was hurting Pablo. An awkward tension hung in the air.

Looking at me, my husband said, "Do you think you can do that honey?"

Slowly I nodded. You bet I could, more than he knew.

That night in bed, we talked some more. We wanted to have a clear plan.

"It feels weird to know that another man is ejaculating before my own husband enjoys me. It just seems wrong," I said.

Sensitive to my feelings, my husband nodded. His eyes lit up as he proposed, "What if you made sure you serviced me first each day. Would that make you feel better?" He used air quotes when he said "serviced." We both knew what he was talking about.

I thought about his suggestion. I really enjoyed our attempt at evening sex, but I equally enjoyed teasing my husband. Would it be possible that I could cause two men to both blow their load in their pants each day. It was a challenge I chose to accept.

I gradually began to wear more of my provocative outfits. I was surprised how easy it was to bring my husband to climax each morning. In the past, I always limited my teasing, wanting to be able to continue tormenting him throughout the day. But now with Pablo waiting in the wings, I gave my husband the full meal deal, leading him quickly to ejaculation. Then I spent the rest of the day with Pablo. But I always made sure my husband received my firstfruits of the day.

Rather than becoming desensitized, my husband was becoming more sensitized. It was certainly flattering that I could bring my husband to climax after a few minutes of parading around our room, and then pressing up next to him. On the other hand, Pablo's endurance was increasing. His beautiful smile was always a clear indicator if I was causing him to become aroused. I tried to keep tabs on when he climaxed. When he ejaculated, I asked him to let me know, before he went and cleaned himself up. At our weekly meeting, Pablo explained he was now hitting his goal.

I figured it was time to really dip into my special wardrobe. This morning I put on low-waisted denim jeans. Rather than the cheap stretch material, I loved wearing true denim. It seemed to cling to my body even more, highlighting my assets. I wore a pair of 3-inch heels below the frayed edges of the jeans. A few scattered threadbare holes in my thighs exposed my supple tan skin. A skimpy tight white tank top exposed my tanned arms, shoulders, and back. The short tank top and low cut jeans exposed my narrow waist, firm tummy, and sexy lower back. A colorful half-cup bra held my breasts in place, partially visible under the thin white tank top.

I walked around our master suite, giving my husband a full view of my figure. When he came to climax more quickly than usual, I was a bit disappointed. My favorite part of the day ended in minutes.

I strode into the main room a bit frustrated. Pablo greeted me with a smile when he saw me. At least I had Pablo. It was only 9 am. A little shiver tingled my body as I forgot about my husband, and focused on the day ahead. Nothing was planned, other than to bring this young stud to constant arousal.

Removing all reservations, I intentionally walked around in front of Pablo, like a mating animal looking for attention. The sound of my high heels echoed in the large space, making me feel I was on a stage, though for an audience of one. I strode passed Pablo with exaggerating motions, making sure the swaying of my hips attracted his attention. Stopping in front of him, I turned to look out a window. My bubble butt planted in front of his face, my heels extending my curves toward him. I wiggled imperceptibly, wondering if Pablo wished he could get his hands on my round cheeks. I bent over and organized the coffee table magazines. My low cut tank top gave him a full view of the top of my hanging pert breasts.

This pattern continued throughout the day, and I was in heaven. Sprinkled into the mix was meaningful conversations with Pablo. My husband and I would share lunch together as he took a quick break. But Pablo and I had much more time in our schedule to really converse. I would sit across from him, my sexy legs crossed, listening to his sensuous Brazilian accent. Staring into my eyes, beautifully prepared with mascara and eyeliner, he would share his hopes and dreams. While we were talking, he would often sneak glances at my chest, rising and falling with my breathing.

As evening approached, I focused my efforts with Pablo, wanting him to reach his goal for the day. By then my husband would join us, though he rarely paid much attention to me. His libido satisfied by his morning release, he was more interested in the view outside than the view inside. My conscience never fully accepted that what we were doing was moral. Especially when strutting around Pablo, laughing and flirting with him, all in front of my husband. I simply knew it was wrong. But when around Pablo, my body always felt right.

At our next Sunday meeting, Pablo once again gave us an update. The treatment continued to show promise. The doctors also confirmed that Pablo may have to work harder to meet his goals.

"Has there been a problem with your goals?" my husband asked with a concerned look on his face.

"No, not really," Pablo answered.

I clarified, "Well, I have noticed that it is getting later and later in the day by the time you ejaculate. At this rate, we will need to stay up until midnight!"

With that, we all chuckled.

"Any suggestions?" my husband asked.

"What works for you?" Pablo asked my husband. I had confidentially shared with Pablo the morning arrangement with my husband. I hoped that my husband would assume this was a general question, not exposing this breach of trust.

Not skipping a beat, my husband answered, "Well, I'm a big fan of hugs. My wife gives the best!"

And with that, we all decided that I should start sharing hugs with Pablo, hoping a bit of affection would maintain meeting his goals.

The next morning I was a bit nervous about the day. I couldn't remember the last time I hugged another man. I spent extra time getting ready. I chose a high waisted baby blue pencil skirt and a silky black blouse. Matching black thongs, bra, and ankle strapped heels completed the outfit. The bra was one of the thinnest I owned. I told myself that was simply a coincidence, but my body knew I had intentionally picked that one. I wanted my first hug with Pabloo to be memorable. I wanted to limit the fabric between his chiseled chest and my supple tits.

I serviced my husband earlier than usual, and paraded into the main room, the skirt tight against my toned legs and curvy hips. Wasting no time, I walked directly to Pablo and stood in front of him. With my heels on, he was only 3 inches taller than me. Perfect height for a sensual embrace. Before I put my arms around him, I wondered why I had failed to really notice his build before. He was a very handsome man. Wide defined shoulders, a muscular chest, and rippled arms. Yet a boyish face, reflecting a young man barely 21 years old.

I raised my arms, placed them on his shoulders, and then wrapped them around his neck as far as possible. This brought my chest in contact with his. I immediately felt my nipples harden as blood rushed into the sensitive glands. Pablo placed his hands on my lower back, gently pressing me toward him. I shuffled my high-heel clad feet forward, my narrow feet in between his legs. The entire lengths of our warm bodies were now pressed against each other. I could feel my blood pounding in all parts of my body, and could sense the same in him.

Skillful in teasing talk, I whispered in his ear, "How's this feel, big boy."

"Nice," was all Pablo could mutter, taking a deep swallow.

I began to feel more pressure on my tummy, as his cock seemed to grow.

"I should say so!" I exclaimed, both of us giggling in turn, our bodies clinging even closer as we squeezed each other affectionately. This was the first time I had actually felt his cock swell.