Someone's Watching Us

How a watcher from across the street is invited by my wife to join us and spent the afternoon.

"Someone's watching us."

I was too engrossed to hear her. She was perched above me, on her hands and knees and my face was buried between her legs. My tongue was working on her aroused clit and then sliding between the swollen lips of what she always called her cunny. Her clit was hard and getting harder and aroused. And she was getting wetter and wetter as I used my tongue. My tongue slid between her lips and probe deeper inside her, tasting her arousal, which was such sweet nectar. I tried to extend my tongue deeper inside her seeking to tease her and increase her wetness and arousal. Margaret pushed her sex down on my face, grinding a little and urging me.

Margaret loved oral sex and would quickly get wet and aroused, which she was now. She, in the meantime, had been using her lips and tongue on my cock, sliding her tongue up and down and then taking me in her mouth, sliding her tongue around the head of my cock and teasing the opening from where pre cum was emerging. She's always been a great cock sucker during our more than 25 years of marriage. Indeed, the first night we met at a business get together she had taken my in her mouth when I finally got her alone in a quiet part of the office. I had fucked her as well that night. From then on we were together, marrying a year later.

"I said someone is watching us," she repeated a little louder. This time I heard her.

I'd been so consumed with what I was doing to her that I hadn't realised she'd stopped sucking my cock. That got my attention. My cock was wet and with the air conditioning cooling the room her warmth was gone and a faint chill enveloped it. It was sticking straight up pushing slightly against the side of her face.

My head dropped down onto the bed. "Where?" I asked.

"From across the street."

We were back in one of our twice yearly visits to San Francisco, staying as usual, in one of the small boutique hotels on Sutter Street, a couple of blocks up from Union Square. The hotel was reasonably quiet, very clean, friendly and familiar and the rooms were bigger than most boutique hotels. We're visitors from Australia and she's a well-toned and fit 60 while I'm reasonably fit and a couple years older. We had a daughter back home at a regional university, which allowed Margaret and I to not only get back into travelling as a couple but to rekindle a lot of the active sex life we'd had when we first got together.

It was early summer and the light was streaming through the wide street facing windows and along with the bedside lamps the maid had left on when she'd serviced the room, there were no shadows across the bed. It was a bright and open room and, as Margaret now discovered, more open than usual.

"In the hotel across the street," she said when I had been silent. "Must be the same floor as us. "He's at the window," she added.

Margaret and I (Bill) had been out all morning and, when we came back mid-afternoon after a long and casual lunch where we'd split a bottle of delightful Oregon Pinot Gris, she'd been in a playful and sexy mood, which led us to be spread across the bed in slow and sensual oral sex. It was a perfect way to spend a late afternoon before getting ready to go out to dinner.

"You forgot to close the curtains," I said, laughing. It was a joke between us that when something was wrong or amiss I would be the first to tell her she hadn't done something about it. Her reaction was to slap my leg, with a succinct "Bullshit."

"He's gone," she said, still propped up on her elbows and her mouth disconnected from my hard and still slightly chilly cock. Her voice was slightly concerned.

"You sound disappointed, Margaret," I told her. "I think you like an audience."

At times on our previous trips she had shown how more uninhibited she could be away from home, wearing more revealing clothes, lower cut tops, a tight skirt she'd bought with a slit down one side and heels and black fishnet stockings. My favourite was a short sleeve rugby top, which had a deeper than usual opening in the front. She would leave the buttons undone and with a push up bra would show off her 36" C cup tits. She knew I liked seeing her wearing the top and she always had it with her when we left home. It was usually worn with tight, colourful training bottoms that showed off her tight, rounded ass. In that combination she always a lot of glances, some very obvious, which she wouldn't admit she enjoyed.

More than a few times she would lean over when looking at things in a store when a male employee, usually a mature one, was standing in front of her. I chided her on how she liked to flash her tits at men and she always smiled back, agreeing with me. I did enjoy her exhibitionist streak. But while she flirted with men in different situations and would flash her tits and sometimes stockings tops, the Margaret I'd first met was, for the most part, no longer there. She no longer sought sex with a number of men nor showed them her talent as a cock sucker. She would fantasise and roleplay when we were having sex and I would bring other men into our bed conversations, laced with the explicit language she enjoyed, but she always said that my cock was now enough for her. This was exacerbated when our daughter was born and growing up.

We were never averse to having sex in more open and public places, usually initiated by her. On hikes she would stop and drop her shorts and panties and with a cheeky grin say: "Let's play." That would result in sex on the ground or, on one memorable occasion, her lying legs raised and apart on a huge rock and me thrusting my cock into her so wet cunny. On a beach where we sometimes stayed she would have skimpy shorts without panties and my cum dripping from her cunny, dampening the shorts and sometimes dribbling down her legs. "I'm no prude," she'd tell me when I roleplayed other men "but your cock is enough for this cunny." Many times, I wished she would revert to the old days and enjoy another cock.

"Huh," was all she said to my audience comment about our watcher and resumed sucking, licking and teasing my cock. I lay back enjoying her undoubted expertise, looking up at her swollen lips and protruding clit.

"Don't worry, my sweet," I said to her as she heightened my arousal, "he's a man, and he'll be back."

That she hadn't left the bed to close the curtains stuck in my mind as I felt her mouth and warm breath on my cock. Perhaps she liked being watched. There had always been an exhibitionist streak in her, which always made me horny.

"When he does come back you'll have to put on a show for him," I said, hoping to reinforce my increasing arousal.

"What?"

"Show him how good a cock sucker you really are."

She ignored me and slid her tongue up the side of my cock and licked off the pre cum that smeared the head. I used my tongue on her clit, licking and teasing it and pushing upwards a little so I could use my teeth gently on it. I alternated between my tongue and teeth and could feel her getting more and more aroused. When Margaret gets fully aroused a real hint of being slutty comes to the fore, something that turns me on even more. I'd always had a little bent for slutty women, which Margaret was aware of and when she was hot and horny she got into being slutty.

In less than a minute I heard her say: "He's back."

"Told you. Now you have to put on a show for him."

Margaret said nothing but her movement on my cock increased. She had her audience now and she was playing to him. Her mouth was on and around my cock and her tongue was licking and teasing and sliding up and down my shaft. She was really into it and I had to strain to stop my climax. This was too good to be over quickly. While she worked on my cock, I resumed my attack on her clit and cunny. She was getting wetter and wetter and my tongue was lapping it up. I let my head slip back on to the bed.

"You're loving this, Margaret," I told her, almost panting. "I can tell as your cunny is getting wetter and wetter. You love him watching don't you?"

"Mmmmmm," was all she said, and let my cock slip out of her mouth. Then she added: "It's horny isn't it?"

"It is."

I took a chance and asked her to kneel at the bottom of the bed and show off her tits and cunny. I wasn't sure she was prepared to go this far as, although we'd talked during sex of playing with other men, I figured she'd hold back. But she didn't, which showed how horny she was. She got off me and knelt at the base of the bed, looking straight out the window at our watcher. As I also watched, she began playing with her tits, holding them up, cupping them, massaging them and pulling at her now hard nipples. Then she reached down and her two hands began to play with her cunny. She hadn't had a full Brazilian but almost and there was just a line of hair above the lips she was obviously now opening and rubbing. I couldn't see exactly what she was doing as I was lying, propped up, at the head of the bed. I was getting so turned on as she performed for her watcher.

She turned her head towards me, smiling and said: "I feel like such a slut. I'm so wet."

She knew I liked her when she got into a slutty mood. Then I made a decision to increase her pleasure, and mine.

"Wave to him," I said.

"What?"

"Wave to him as you've included him in our fun. Let him know."

She didn't answer but I saw one of her arms lift up. She waved her arm backwards and forwards several times while at the same time using her other hand to massage and play with her cunny.

"He's waving back," she said. She paused and the added: "He's playing with his cock. He's showing it to me."

Margaret was still propped up on her knees, her legs slightly apart, looking across the street at the man who'd been watching us and was now showing her his cock. She seemed to be a little transfixed by what she was watching. She was watching the watcher.

"It's turning you on him watching you suck my cock and showing off, isn't it, Margaret," I said as a statement. "You're giving him a little porn show."

"Maybe," she answered, "but it is fucking horny."

When Margaret was really aroused she slipped naturally into direct language, which she liked two ways.

"It is and your cunny would surely tell me how horny you are." Then I added to add to the eroticism I was feeling: "What's his cock like?"

"Hard and thick," she said with a sigh and added: "Nice."

I was so horny by now that I decided to play to one of my exhibitionist and wife-sharing fantasies and to try and rekindle her past. It would be a gamble, but I was so horny and I knew she was too that I went ahead.

"Would it be better, Margaret, if he was sitting in the chair by the bed here rather than across the street looking in our window?"

It was now out there and hanging for her response. It was also something that made me hornier thinking of the possibilities.

"What?"

"You heard."

She hesitated.

"Well," I said, "you're horny, I'm horny and he's, from what you say, horny, so maybe we bring it all together."

"Invite him over?"

"Yes," I said, "we're away from home and let's have some fun."

"You're serious?"

"Yes."

Before she could say anything else, I told her to wave him over. I knew she was more than tempted. Her body had given her away. Do it a couple of times, I said, so he knows what you mean.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked me, turning around to look directly at me. I thought for a few seconds and nodded.

"What about you?"

Like me she thought for a few seconds and then told me slowly and softly that there'd been times in the last few years where she'd imagined seeing what it was like again to have another cock in her mouth or cunny. Seeing the guy watching and then him showing her his cock had rekindled those thoughts. I was surprised that she had wanted, unspoken, what I did.

"I'd never do this at home," she said, now looking across the street again, her back to me. "I'd never do anything there that might jeopardize us or our family. But, being away makes things different."

She hesitated and turned her head around to look at me, saying: "Somehow, I think you want me to do it." She paused before adding: "And I think I want to as well."

"I know you're always are more uninhibited when we're away. You dress to show of your great body and you know I like that. And involving someone else is so fucking horny and something I've imagined more than once but never thought you'd go ahead with it."

She shrugged her shoulders, looking away from me and across Sutter Street.

I had imagined many times watching her take another cock in her mouth and then open her legs and cunny for his cock. Never really pictured the guy. Just her. Looking sensual and slutty, dressed to show of her tits and ass and playing up to the man. It had always made me so hard and I had wanted to share my desires with her but had never had either the courage or the opportunity. Now the opportunity had been presented, unexpectantly, to both of us. And, after watching her play with her tits and cunny especially for him, I was so aroused and I could see by how she was moving and talking that she was too.

That's when I came back to the present. I said that if he looks interested and waves back, then first hold up her hand with four fingers showing to indicate our floor and then both hands with ten fingers to show our room. Margaret did hesitate for a few seconds and then I felt her stand up off the end of the bed. Then there was some arm movement. As I looked down, I saw the one hand go up with four fingers and then the two hands with ten fingers outstretched. We both waited and I was a little unsure about what had been set in train. She did it a second time just to be sure he saw.

"Excited, apprehensive?" I asked her after she'd told me he'd disappeared from the window.

She nodded. "But you know, Bill," she said softly, "if he knocks on the door he's going to fuck me."

It was my turn to nod. "After the show you put on for him Margaret, I don't doubt that at all." The I added: "Do you want to fuck him?"

"Yes, I do," she said simply. "Can you handle that?" She looked a bit sheepish.

That it was someone we didn't know, had never met, somehow to me made it all the more erotic, sensual and slutty. Margaret playing the slut was usually only at home when we were alone. But now she was doing it for another man. It was a new experience and not only one I had fantasized about but also now realizing it may be about to happen.

"Yes," I said with just a little hesitation, "after all it was my suggestion to invite him over. For some reason, I think I've wanted it for a while."

It seemed that the desire had been there for some time, in both of us. All it took was an opportunity and that desire flourished.

I smiled at her and took her in my arms and kissed her, tasting both her and my arousal. "Just remember, I love you so much and you are the most exciting and sensual woman ever. What I've seen in the last few minutes reinforces that. You're magic and you make me feel so horny."

While I held her, I slipped my hand between her legs and she was so wet, almost dripping her arousal. The lips of her cunny were swollen and inside her she was so warm. Margaret pushed against my fingers and with my thumb massing and teasing her clit, two fingers slipped inside easily. She opened her legs a little more and my fingers explored the inside of her cunny, finding the little ridges and the sides. She pushed hard against my fingers, savouring what I was doing. She was so aroused. My hard cock was pressing against her, leaving a trail of pre cum across her stomach. My mouth kissed her ears and my tongue played with her ear lobes.

"You want to see his cock up close, don't you?" I whispered in her ear.

"Oh yes," she replied, "I want to see it, touch it, hold it and see how hard it is."

"You're such a wanton slut, Margaret," I said, adding, "And it's so good."

I broke the embrace as she murmured and, smiling a bit ironically, I closed the curtains and switched on the floor lamps to produce some subdued lighting. She stood there, naked, watching me. I slipped on a pair of briefs, pushing in my hard cock, and suggested she put her little thong back on as well as the transparent cape-like robe she'd worn earlier. The robe came down to level with her ass and with a thong made her look very sexy and more than a bit slutty. The was so much sexual tension in the air as we waited to see if there was a knock on the door. The hotel did not have all the security systems of newer, more modern hotels so I knew if he came over he could easily get to our room. It was just a question of would he?

The minutes that we waited, silently, in our room seemed to drag. Maybe he wasn't going to take up the offer and invitation? Would our previously repressed desires remain unfulfilled? I hoped not but was uncertain. The sexual tension was increasing along with the waiting.

"What if ... ," Margaret started to say, implying he may not come over at all. Before she could finish, however, there was a quick but firm knock on our door.

Margaret and I looked at each other. Was this what we wanted? She slowly went to the door and looked through the peephole. Turning towards me, she nodded. It was him. Then she took a breath and opened the door. Dressed in well-cut casual trousers and a polo shirt, the man walked in with confidence rather than any swagger. He looked quickly around the room, noticing the now closed curtains.

He smiled at me and said in a friendly and relaxed voice with a slight Midwestern accent: "I see no one else can now see what I saw."

"No," I said, standing near the bed in only briefs, "that was an accident."

"An accident I enjoyed," he said and introduced himself as he studied Margaret in the transparent robe and small black lace thong.

He was Chad, 58, an architect from Missoula, Montana, in San Francisco for a conference. He said he eschewed the conference hotel ("Why do I want to talk shop 16 hours a day?") for the smaller hotel on Sutter. He looked about 200 pounds and a few inches above six feet. Clean shaven with a tanned face. His hair was lighter brown with some streaks of grey. He was good looking and well built, with no hint of excessive weight. The gold band on his left hand indicated he was married.

I, on the other hand, was four years older, less fit, grey haired, just on six feet and 170 pounds, a few of which I should have lost. Wearing just briefs highlighted that I needed to get fitter and more in shape.

Margaret, at 60, 5'6" and 110 pounds showed some post-menopause waist thickening, which she endeavoured to keep under control with the gym, exercise bike, weights and walking. The exercises and weights also helped reduce the excess pounds on her arms. Through the transparent robe her tits had obviously sagged a little but her legs and ass showed the benefits of being toned. She did have a great and sexy ass, as I told her a lot. Streaked blond hair was cut in a bob, showing off her angular face with bright blue eyes, a cute nose and a natural mouth, now highlighted with the red lipstick she'd just applied. Chad made no secret of appraising her and looked her straight in the eyes to show he liked what he saw.

"You've dressed since I last saw you," he said to her with just a touch of irony.

"Can't invite someone in naked," she responded with a warm, almost laughing, smile.

"What you're wearing," he said, "makes you look even sexier and so much more desirable. And you're even more attractive up close."

Chad explained that he'd been doing some work at the desk in front of the window and had glanced up to see Margaret sucking my cock. He had been drawn to watch her and admire the erotic show in front of him. He said he'd jumped up when she looked over and saw him and moved away from the window. But when he saw that we hadn't closed the curtains he moved back to watch more. And, he added, get more aroused. Then after she'd waved he'd slipped off his trousers and boxers and started to stroke his hard cock and show her the effect she'd had.