Sharing Susan Ch. 01

"What she says," a bit breathlessly, like we are teenagers playing a game of truth or dare.

" I want you to put on just a towel, and walk over there, and ask Ray if you can make you up a nightcap, and when he hands you the drink, I want you to drop the towel, and I want you to be sure that he gets to see absolutely everything, and then I want you to come back here and fuck me as you tell me all about it"

"Oh god," she says, putting her arms around me. She is shaking, as she gets a towel from the bathroom. "Is he still there?" she asks. I look out of the window from our darkened room, and he is still sitting in the hot tub.

"Yes," I whisper. She comes out, and the towels are not all that generous. This one barely covers her pussy, and her round ass, and the tops of her tits are exposed. "Wait, that's only a bathmat, I say," as I realize she has chosen the smallest possible covering that can still make her seem innocent. The small, thick, towel meant to be on the floor barely covers her. It has a gap just between her breast, and if she bends forward at all, she is almost completely exposed.

"Tell me what to do," she whispers.

"Go out there, and then ask him for a drink, and when he hands it to you, drop your towel."

"Tell me why," she asks, almost breathlessly.

"Because it will turn me on," I say. She kisses me on the cheek and squeezes my cock, and then pulls open the sliding glass door and starts walking over to Ray. I peer out from our dark room, and I don't think he can see me, and I stroke my cock as I watch her stand above him. I'm sure looking up at her like this, he can see her pussy, and her lips must still be engorged, slightly open, and so wet.

She stands, talking with him for a moment, and then I see him mixing up one drink, and then two. Susan, reaches out to take both of them, and her towel falls, and I see her move back, in seeming surprise. She stands up, and I can just hear her laughing. Ray pulls himself out of the pool, and now, even though he still has his trunks on, I can see even at this distance and in the dim light that his large, heavy cock is fully erect, and I'm sure Susan must notice it, too. I can't believe that I hear them both laughing, sounding a little drunk, and I can't make out what they are saying, but Susan keeps hold of a glass in each hand, and Ray picks up her towel, pauses a minute, and I can believe how hard I am as Susan courtesies to him, shakes her damp hair, and even though her back is to me, I can imagine her breasts swaying before his eyes. Ray says something to her I can't make out, and drapes the towel over her shoulder, and she turns and comes walking back to the room.

I slide the door open, and she comes in, handing me a drink. I close the door, and she says, "Let's have a toast to Ray," and we both drink.

"What happened," I say. We are both reeling a bit from all the vodka, and she says, "come fuck me." She lies down on the bed, and I stay standing, pull her to the edge, and tease her with my cock. We haven't had sex like this since we first met, and those intensities, the sudden newness of her body, is flooding over me as I see her with Ray's eyes. "Tell me, I say."

"I just asked him for a drink, but I felt so excited, I was shaking just standing in front of him" she whispers. "And then, I asked him to make a drink for you, too. He said he enjoyed meeting us, and was happy to share, and he poured the vodka, and then when I had taken both glasses, I just let the towel fall, and I felt. . . so . . . so. . . excited, and" she barely can say it, "so dirty." As she says it, I push into her wet, creamy cunt, and feel no resistance at all she is so hot.

"What happened then, tell me more," I say, as I begin thrusting into her, making her tits bounce.

"He said I was a completely sexy woman, and he wished that I were his wife, and his eyes were all over me, it felt like he was taking me with his eyes" she moans.

"Did he touch you," I say? She moans as I fuck her. "Tell me, did he touch you?"

"No, no, he was a perfect gentleman, but. . .oh god, I wanted him to," and as she admits it, I start to cum, and pull out of her, my sperm jetting onto the carpet at the foot of the bed, and as I drop to my knees I go down on her until she comes. My hands reaching up to her tits, squeezing her nipples in my fingers as she lets go in a powerful, shuddering orgasm.

The next morning, we both wake up late with terrible hangovers, and we don't talk about what happened. We act as if both of us have forgotten, as if by forgetting, we can avoid what it would mean if we admitted it in the light of day.

* * *

And so, dear reader, I find myself two weeks later, in bed, after my wife has left for work, and I'm stroking my cock, imagining her dropping her towel in front of Ray, but instead of what really happened, I'm imagining her bringing him back to our room, and I'm wondering if I can remember Ray's last name, and maybe find him online, and maybe, and maybe. . . as I cum in our sheets.