Sean's Video - Take 47

Desperately tired Sean wandered through the basement turning off light after light. As the downstairs finally fell dark he peeked back up the stairway but didn't hear anything from upstairs. He wandered back into the darkness settling down at the computer. He reached out, tapped on the mouse and waited while the screen saver blinked off and the screen lit up. After a short search he double clicked and watched a video start up. One final click resized the image to full screen and he sat back to watch the video once again.

His wife was on her back on the bed, completely naked, her large breasts flattened out in two gently sloping mounds with dark areola and two perky nipples. He heard her voice, "Do I need to look at the camera?"

"No," a strange man's voice replied.

Sean then watched as his wife opened her legs exposing a closely cropped, wiry patch of hair above the smooth skin of her tight slit. Moving her hand downward, she eased her fingers into that tight slit, moving down and pressing into herself. She then moved her now glistening fingers back up between the folds to her clit. Slowly she began moving her hand, her two fingers pressed up between her lips, touching her clit.

As his wife began to masturbate for the unknown man holding the camera, Sean imagined her doing the same for him. He eased his cock out of his shorts as he looked closely at his wife's pussy, the lips unfolding now as she continued the motion of her fingers. Encircling his shaft with his fingers Sean began stroking himself just as his wife lifted her hips for the first time.

Listening hard to hear that first moan, he leaned forward... was that it, yes, yes a moan. He quickened the strokes on his cock as she increased the pace of her hand as her fingers rolled over her clit in a circular motion. Her hips were rising and falling in a rhythm and her moans were much louder as she got closer and closer to coming.

Sean stroked himself vigorously, but long before he even got close he watched the video as his wife moaned loudly, spread her legs wide open as she lifted her hips. She then collapsed back onto the bed, moved her legs tight together and ran her fingers up her thigh, wiping away the remaining dampness.

Instead of finishing himself off, Sean quickly clicked the video off. He didn't need to see any more, no it was seared into his memory, the image of his wife opening her legs again as a man's cock appears. With his wife in the background, you hear her voice, "Come on baby, give it to me," as the man groans and then spurts his cum onto her pussy. Before fading out, the video zooms in to the wet, white cum congealing in the wiry curls of her pubic hair.

No, Sean didn't need to watch it, it played through his mind each time he looked at her. He knew he should stop coming back and watching the video again and again, but these days the video was the only time he could glimpse at her pussy. As his erection fell limply onto his thigh he let his mind wander back to the time he spent walking the parking lot of her job, searching.

His wife had lost an earring at work and asked if he would look for it for her. It took him nearly an hour and a half, but he finally found it hopelessly ground into the asphalt pavement. After prying what he could from the asphalt he returned it to his wife, who surprisingly let him go down on her for the first time in years. Now, picturing what happened in his mind, he replayed the event, remembering the tangy taste of her pussy, how she lifted her hips to push her wet lips onto his face, and how when she came, he shoved his fingers into her, feeling her squeeze his fingers as her pussy pulsated.

Fully hard now, he started the video again and this time, he was ready and as he watched his wife work her clit, he came, spurting his warm cum onto his stomach. He dabbed it up as he watched his wife's orgasm and then quickly stopped the video before the strange man's cock appeared. Sean then slipped his cock back into his shorts and walked back toward the stairway.

From the darkness of the basement he could see the faint flashes of red upstairs and could hear footsteps. He moved to where he was in clear view from the top of the stairs and then kneeled down. Moving his hands up to his head he remained motionless as the commotion increased upstairs. He'd left the gun on the kitchen table, but wanted to be sure the police knew he was now unarmed.