The Overlook

My wife Katherine and I work for the same government agency so we have plenty of opportunities to drop in on each other. Her job has her out in the field much more than mine does, usually with a coworker or two. I've never really had any reason to question her activities while she's away from the office. She's a good Catholic girl, great wife and mom, sexually conservative, and seemingly satisfied with the life we've built together.

So the scene that unfolded before me earlier this week has thrown me for a big loop, my friends. One of my rare days away from the desk found me driving up a narrow, two-lane road through the woods. At one of the scenic overlooks, I spotted my wife's government-issue white pickup backed into the small parking area. The road's too narrow and winding for a quick u-turn, so I veered off on to the shoulder and stepped out, just a hundred yards or so beyond the overlook. Walking back down along the road, I saw Katherine's co-worker Matt standing beside the passenger side door. Nothing strange about that, I figure, since he's often out in the field with Katherine. Standing, I soon notice though, may be a bit of an exaggeration to describe Matt's position. He was leaning more precisely, against the passenger door, one arm hanging on the open window frame, the other hanging down in front of him where I couldn't see it. His head hung loosely, looking down, but with his eyes closed.

My heart didn't want to suspect what my brain already intuited. I slowed, then stopped and concealed myself in the shadow of the trees. Moving quietly through the shadows, I was soon in a position to see Matt more clearly and what consumed his attention. It was, as I'm sure you've already guessed, dear readers, my lovely Katherine, on her knees atop a bunched-up agency jacket, giving Matt a very active, very hungry blowjob.

Katherine's back was to me. Her long dirty brown hair, without her standard tightly pulled ponytail, flowed over her shoulders and down her naked back. Her head bobbed up and down in smooth, even strokes, and though I couldn't actually see it, her mouth easily swallowed all of Matt's cock. His pants were bunched around his ankles, shirt tails hanging at his waist. Her hands worked his cock and balls vigorously and her head never left the top of his shaft. I could clearly hear his encouragements to her. I heard her muffled moans and her throaty whispers urging him to cum for her.

My face flushed with crushed pride and my heart pounded in my chest. Tears welled in my eyes. And I had the hardest boner I've had in ages. Part of me wanted to holler and yell and announce my presence. But I stayed there, in place, silently watching, not 100 feet away. Moments or minutes passed, I don't recall how long it had been. Matt moaned out his pending explosion to Katherine, but unlike her ministrations upon me every other Saturday night on our antique brass bed, she didn't pull away as he erupted in orgasm. Matt came with a hard, long moan, deep into my wife's throat. His legs stiffened, his hips bucked forward, pushing himself ever deeper into her mouth. She never moved from his cock. She took nearly all he had to give her. I say nearly all, because when he finished, and Katherine stood and wrapped her hands around his naked ass, Matt wiped a small something off her cheek, before they fell into a deep and passionate kiss.

The next few minutes were a bit of a blur. Matt's hands unbuttoned her jeans and slipped inside her panties. Katherine spread her legs and wiggled her hips as his fingers entered her. She pushed him back and slid her pants down, her milky white legs flashing brightly in the sun, and hopped up in the truck. Matt untied her shoes and tugged off her jeans. I lost sight of Katherine but for the two soft and familiar legs that stretched outside the door of the truck. Matt draped one of my wife's legs across his shoulder as he leaned into the doorway and bowed his head between her thighs. I watched from the darkness of the surrounding forest as Matt serviced Katherine with a licking and finger-fucking that had her yelling out to the tree tops in minutes.

Katherine sat up on the seat and I could see her face through the rear window. She gave Matt the same happy, satisfied smile I've seen countless times over the last 22 years. She slid out of the truck and kissed him again, long and hard, while he probed her now soaked innards with his fingers and ran his hand through her blonde bush. They dressed without talking, buckled up, and drove off, oblivious to my presence. Without understanding why, and with the images of the last few minutes rolling backwards and forwards and crossways in my brain, I leaned back against the tree, pulled out my own cock and with just a few quick strokes, shot a massive load on to the forest floor.

I'm still at a loss as to what to do with this experience, my friends. I've not talked with Katherine about it. I only know that that night we fucked like we were teenagers again, changing positions, both coming several times, laughing and enjoying the moment as we hadn't in a long while.