tagHumor & SatireThe Husband Who Wanted To Watch

The Husband Who Wanted To Watch

bygalen ubal©

Some four years back, I was working at a hotel at which the night shift had two people, instead of the usual one. I had the good fortune to be partnered with a pretty little brunette I'll call Carrie. Carrie was one of these pixieish women, sexy in a cute, wholesome way. Five foot tall, sweet little body, maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet, and lord, I wanted to get her soaking wet. Unfortunately, she was married, so I sighed at the unfairness of life and figured I'd just get on with business.

Now, the thing to remember about night shift at a hotel is that there are often times when a couple of hours go by in which there's nothing really to do. Under those circumstances, co?workers get to know each other pretty well, and if they can get along at all, tend to get pretty closely knit. Not as closely knit as I would like, but she soon was telling me every detail about her life. She loved her husband, and wanted to have his children, but there were...problems. At this point, she would blush and look away. One time she did manage to tell me that the physical side of her marriage to Tom was dull....she blushed even harder than usual, looked down at her feet. I touched her shoulder lightly, told her it would be all right. She looked up at me, and the silence stretched....

"Hey," I said, needing to break the moment, "send him around to me, and I'll give him some pointers."

She and I laughed, the spell broken.

Not too much later, she gave her notice. She had found a job working with kids, something she loved to do, something that would allow her to spend more time with Tom. We all wished her well ? she'd been a popular employee, a good worker. I worked with her her last night; when I walked her to her car, she stopped at it's door, seemed to be struggling with something.

"I wanted you to know something, galen, since I won't be seeing you again. I really like you, and..."

"And what?" I asked. She looked down, whispered so I had to lean close to hear;

"I'm...really attracted to you. Sometimes...when Tom and I...I wanted it to be you"

She looked up then, as I stared at her. She threw a hand around my neck, pulled me in closer, kissed me. Reflex took over and I cradled the back of her head, our lips moving against each other, mouths opening slightly. The tip of her tongue touched mine. She moaned deep in her throat, her other hand reaching forward, stroking my cock, making me harder. My other hand reached around her, cupped her ass under her thin skirt...

And then she pulled away.

"I'm sorry, galen, I'll miss you." She dove into her car and drove away.


Some months later she bounced in as I was getting off work.

"galen, I'm glad to see you, I need to talk to you." She's bright, happy, and altogether edible.

"Why...sure, Carrie. Join me for breakfast?" I'm startled to see her, to say the least. But she's so cute, in her little shorts and T?shirt, that I just don't have the heart to be harsh to her. So we go to the restaurant, quiet at this hour, and find a seat. While the server is there, she talks about the children she works with, how sweet they are, how she wants to have one of her very own.

"You remember, galen, how you said you'd be glad to give Tom a few pointers?" she asks, some of the bounce going out of her.

After negotiating a suddenly difficult chunk of toast, I say, "Of course, but..."

"We've been seeing a counselor and things are better, but last night...he wondered what it would be like to watch me with another man. We talked about it all night, who we could trust...when we weren't...anyway, we decided to ask you if you'd like to....if you would...fuck me while he watched"

At this point, I totally forgot the forkful of scrambled eggs. She laughed at me, pointed at my hand, and I stared at it like it was some strange new thing. I was totally dumbfounded.

"Well? We'll be moving soon, so it'll have to be tonight." she prompts. She's a little scared, I see, and a lot nervous. I drop the fork back onto the plate with a clatter ? so much for my suaveness.

"I...yes, I think I can do that," I stammer. I'm not real thrilled with the idea of an audience ? some things should be kept private. But I am extremely thrilled about the thought of touching her, tasting her, sliding into her...She leans forward and I feel her hand stroke me lightly under the table. I can see her nipples denting the fabric of her T?shirt.

"Good. I really want to feel this inside of me" She hands me a slip of paper with her address and a time. "See you then." She stands, gasps a little, holds the purse in front of her as she walks out. I rather wish I carried a purse, myself.

"One last cup of coffee, please."


I arrive at their house precisely on time; actually, I circled their block a few times questioning my sanity, as I'd done all day. I pull into their driveway, put the car in first, pulled the parking brake. I take a deep breath, and march myself up to the doorway. The door opens as I approach, and I see the happy couple, he in slacks and a polo shirt, she in a robe that failed to disguise her curves. Both are barefoot. He steps toward me, extends a hand, gives a firm but not crushing handshake. I size him up, automatically; he's a little older than I expected, not much younger than I. He's of average height, not noticeably thin or heavy, a friendly, open smile on a clean shaven face. On first impression, I rather like him.

"I'm pleased to meet you, galen, come in, join us." He walks toward the bedroom, hand in hand with Carrie.

"I want you to know, I really appreciate what you're doing for us. I promise that there's no hold on you, and that I won't be jealous."

We arrive at the bedroom, he ushers us in ahead, settles into a chair a few feet from the foot of the bed. I'm at a bit of a loss as to what to do next. Carrie takes my arm, turns me to face her, grasps the front of my shirt in her little hands and pulls me down in a long, deep kiss. She untucks my shirt from my pants, begins unbuttoning it, still kissing me, lips moving against each other, tongues twining. I slip my shoes off as she slides my shirt off over my shoulders. We break the kiss, a little breathless.

"You need to eat more," she says shakily, hands on my chest.

"I intend to," comes from somewhere in me, as I look her up and down. She flushes, and shakes a little, hands still on my chest, touching my nipples.

I reach down, untie the sash of her robe, let it fall to the ground. She's nude, her body petite but definitely female. Soft hairs glisten with her arousal. I guide her to the bed, set her down, aid her in lying back. A button and a zipper later, and my pants join her robe on the floor.

I join her on the bed, on my side next to her, looking for any signals to pull back, and seeing none. My hand touches her cheekbone, her ear, the line of her throat. I lean over her to kiss her, careful not to put my weight on her.

"Are you still good with this?" I whisper in her ear. I feel her nod, shivering, her hands moving to my back.

"Good. I really want you."

My hand cups her breast, circling her nipple with my thumb, then pinching it, very lightly; she jumps and gasps. I scoot myself a bit further down, take her nipple in my mouth, suck lightly, touch it with my tongue. Carrie's moaning softly now, hands clutching at my shoulders. I move over her, on hands and knees, cock at full attention dangling between my legs. I move further down, touching her with lips and teeth and tongue, down past her navel, her scent rising to meet me. I pause for a moment, straightening, spreading her legs wider as I watch her face, hoping I can stop if she asks me too. She doesn't.

I set myself between her legs, left arm supporting me,right hand free. I stroke her pussy lips gently; they're swollen and wet. I lean in closer, start to taste her, her hands clutching at my head...

(geez, I really hate doing this to y'all, but it's what happened)

I feel another hand touch me, wrap around my cock, and I jerk in surprise. Looking back, I see Tom, jerking off furiously, trying to milk me as well. I push him backwards with my foot.

"What the hell are you doin', man?" I yell as I roll to the side. "Keep your hands off of me!" Carrie sits up, a little dazed.

"Tom! What were you doing?" she shouts ? obviously, she's as surprised as I.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it...I just wanted to...." he stammers. They square off ? even under the circumstances, I can't help pitying him a little; she's giving him hell. I consider my options and decide discretion is the better part of valor, and split, gathering up my clothes and throwing them on as I head out the door. They don't notice ? they're a little busy. I don't often drive barefoot, but this didn't seem to be a time to worry about such things.

I did find the shoes on my doorstep a few days later.

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