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Average Wifey Files #01

By: averagewifey



...I smiled at the computer screen as I typed my reply, "well yes, they are big, light, pink nipples that love to be sucked." The erotic banter in this chat was heating up. As I eagerly awaited the next volley of naughty thoughts that would propel me down that slippery slope, I was interrupted by a text message from hubby.

~~Just said yes to Mike & Kathleen invitation for BBQ... I will pick you up in about 15 minutes~~

In the flow of something hot and naughty, I was being stripped from my chair by this social call to duty. Mike & Kathleen were a younger couple that hubby had decided we could mentor. They were troubled. They attended our church. It was the Christian thing to do.

So I painfully disengaged from my chat, and without much thought or interest went to change clothes. But then I thought, this is just a simple BBQ in their backyard likely. No need to worry. These shorts and tee shirt will be fine. Of course, this also meant that I would keep my warm, moist panties on. I liked that idea. I liked keeping a reminder of my chat close to me. 

A few text exchanges with hubby later, I was ready with a loaf of French bread and a liter of soda. He pulled up in the driveway and honked. As I walked to the car, I smiled at him. Smiled as a polite greeting to a happy hubby. Smiled at the secret inner knowledge that my panties cradled a spot of my naughty fun from moments earlier.

The drive was short, punctuated by hubby's apology for short notice, casual compliment that affirmed my attire met with his approval, and a short briefing on what Michael had shared with him earlier that afternoon. Apparently Kathleen had wandered and Michael was wounded. We were there to support them. "But," hubby warned "don't mention this unless they first bring it up. Kathleen does not know that Michael has confided this to me yet."

I wondered to myself who Kathleen had been with but knew hubby would deem that "gossipy curiosity", so I keep my thoughts to myself. Michael was a fine young husband, a good provider, thoughtful and seemingly committed. He was not a flirt, just friendly. Although there were plenty of times when I knew women had wished otherwise. 

Kathleen was the young wife many of us tolerated, but secretly disliked. She was always the center of attention. Perky. Bubbly. A former high school cheerleader who still had a figure that drew attention from men young and old alike. She was definitely flirty, not just friendly.

She answered the door in her typical happy sing-song voice. "Well hello you guys! Come on in!" She gave me a big hug like nothing was wrong. She gave hubby a bigger hug, which he was happy to embrace. Behind her back, I rolled my eyes at him to signal my less than enthusiastic attitude. He flashed me a shrug of his shoulders as if to say, "what can I do?"

We followed Kathleen to the backyard, where Michael was scraping the wire brush on the grill. His gentle smile and soft words greeted us, which I immediately recognized to be dripping with pain. Michael gave hubby a manly hug. Then I gave Michael a hug. A lingering hug. A hug a bit snugger and longer than my common greeting. I wanted to somehow let him know I cared, even if I could not say anything about the elephant in the room. 

That hug also activated my senses as the snug pressure of that friendly embrace mushed my shorts firm against my body, causing a cool wisp of moist pressure over my married slit. It was such a brief, simple, secret moment for me. Standing there with my hubby and Michael & Kathleen, outwardly polite and friendly, while inwardly soaking in the secret thoughts of my earlier arousal. 

A few moments of small talk were followed by Michael sweetly telling Kathleen that the grill was ready for her to get going. It was a funny arrangement they had. Kathleen was the one who did the BBQ grilling, while Michael was the one who loved preparing the salad. Hubby and I were the opposite.

Michael asked if I needed to prepare the bread. Hubby's glance my direction signaled me to go ahead and go in the house so that he could be alone with Kathleen. I figured he wanted to somehow see if Kathleen wanted to talk about things. So I smiled and followed Michael back into the kitchen.

As I worked at the counter, Michael made small talk. I alternated pleasant smiles at him and random, casual glances out the window to where Kathleen and hubby stood by the grill. Michael chatted while chopping and tossing salad ingredients. I enjoyed the casual conversation as I spread butter and garlic on the bread. He moved from the counter to the center island, busy with his preparations. My eyes moved from him, to my bread, to hubby and Kathleen outside. 

Honestly, I did have some suspicions on the outer edges of my mind. Kathleen was a cheater. She was an adorable blonde with breasts that any man would find desirable. Hubby was a passionate breast lover, evidenced by his almost daily fondling and sucking of mine. I tried to chase away the silly, paranoid thoughts that now were pushing Michael's voice to the background. I was ashamed that my own secret activities somehow tainted my trust of my hubby, when he obviously was only trying to help. How shameful of me to project my naughty cyber activities on to him. 

I tried to rein in my thoughts. My eyes were fixed on hubby and Kathleen. I stood at the kitchen counter, staring out the window as if I were watching a sunset. My mind was far away from the casual conversation Michael had been carrying; I had lost track of it even. That's when I was startled by his voice from behind, just inches from my ear.

"What are you looking at?" His question jerked my body to attention as I stood leaning against the counter, almost on my tip toes to see out the window. 

I had no idea that he had been quietly watching me from behind for the past minute or so. 

I had no idea that my shorts were so snug against my ass cheeks as I strained to get the best view of Kathleen and hubby. 

I stammered as I tried to quickly gain my balance, fumbling for the right words that could deflect attention from the reality of my posture. I felt the sudden rush of those schoolgirl moments of panic when making out with a boyfriend downstairs, and then hearing the sounds of mom or dad stirring upstairs. That panic to cover up so as not to be discovered was so real!

After I stood silent for what seemed like an eternity, caught in the tractor beam of his sly grin and smoldering eyes, I muttered "Oh Michael, I am so sorry. I, I uh, my mind was off in another place."

The sudden terror had my blood pumping. As was common for me, any sudden burst of bodily stimulation also had an arousing effect on my breasts. Specifically, my nipples. Those large, light, pink nipples, the size of tennis balls, would harden and poke out to such an extent, that I often countered the moment with crossed arms or a sweater. 

But there I stood. Wearing only a tee shirt. And by the look in Michael's eyes, not to mention his downward glances, I was confronted with the consequences of my actions. My nipples were hard and ripe, like two juicy pieces of fruit hanging from the vine. I reacted instinctually, turning around towards the window, my back to him, rude but self-protective.

More silence. My eyes did not even register the images of Kathleen and hubby at the BBQ now. All I could sense was the heat of Michael's body inches away, standing behind me. I was trembling.

"I think you know about Kathleen, don't you?"

I remained stiff and facing the window, silently nodding yes.

"Do you think I deserve some payback?"

My mind was screaming as I kept quiet. The breath of his last question still moist on my ear. Warm. Moist. Merging with my awareness of that remnant of arousal between my legs. 

"Do you think I should perhaps, eee - vennn the score?" With his long drawn out syllables, I felt his finger trace a line along the outside of my leg, slithering up from my knee to mid thigh.

I quivered. I stood silent. But I neither nodded nor shook my head. I was in a daze.

"Do you think I should taste of the same forbidden fruit that Kathleen has offered to another man?" His finger circled around the back of my leg, edging up under the lower edge of my shorts. 

"You do know that she was naughty with him." His whispered words were dripping into my ear. His finger slid along my shorts, lightly prying between the flesh of my legs. I complied, allowing my feet to wriggle a few inches further apart.

"She spread for him." His words in sync with what was happening between us. "She surrendered her married pussy to him." When he said 'pussy' I was instantly moved to another level of arousal. My previous wetness was greeted by a fresh flow of moisture.

As I felt his free hand slide around my hip, I could only stare out the window... somehow in denial, yet equally complicit. I had a clear view of Kathleen, perky breasts and all, so appropriately conversing with hubby. Yet, there I stood spreading my legs for Michael standing just inches behind me!

His forward hand slithered down the front of my shorts, cupping my wet panties as I felt him squeeze against me from behind. "She would not deny him access." I felt his long middle finger extended over the length of my slit, only my wet panties between him and me.

I heard, and felt, his other hand unzipping his pants. I was in utter shock! Was this really happening?! "She let him take a dip in her married pussy." He pressed his middle finger so firm along my slit, that it felt as if my wet panties were going to submerge between my folds.

As his hand moved from behind me to the front, I felt him unsnap my shorts... I felt them tugged over my hips... I felt my panties clinging in vain... "She exposed her most private being to him." 

My bare ass cheeks felt the warm, firm, slick tip of his married cock pressing with lust. He pulled my panties to the side, as I bent over even more, his vision of both Kathleen and hubby squared up front and center as well. "Just like thisssss..." he moaned as I felt his married cock slide between my legs and split my wet, dripping, married pussy.

Both of us looked out the window for an instant. Kathleen and hubby innocent by-standers, as Michael and I wormed his cock in and out of my pussy. "She deserves it" he muttered as he softly fucked me. "And so do you."

Average Wifey Files #02



As I dropped off my teenage son at his part-time job at the local supermarket, it was part of our routine. He hopped out of the car and glanced over his shoulder as he tossed a "thanks mom" at me. "Pick me up about ten tonight, right?"

I smiled and waved him off as I said, "yep, see you then honey." I then returned home, no more than a mile away. The drive was ordinary as well. But little did I know that before ten o'clock would arrive, my life would soon be turned upside down.

As I pulled in the garage, hubby's car was already there. I knew he had just arrived home, since he was not there when I had pulled out just ten minutes ago. As I walked in the door, he was standing at the kitchen table flipping through the unopened mail. "Hi sweetie" he said. I smiled and greeted him with a welcome-home kiss.

"What would you like for dinner?" I asked him.

He looked at me with a frown, "Kathleen, you forgot, didn't you? I have the Little League Board meeting this afternoon. I have to go in about ten minutes. We are doing pizza there." He paused and looked at me with that condescending look he often shot at me. "Remember?"

Shaking my head at him I said, "No, but no big deal, sweetie." He laughed at me and walked off. A quick change of clothes later, he was out the door and on his way. 

"Not even a goodbye kiss" I muttered to myself as the door shut behind him. I settled down at the kitchen counter, my mind battling between being bothered or just choosing to move on and forget about it. As I stared off into space, my mind flipping through the trivial "to be or not to be" choices, I was summoned back to the room by the sound of a vibrating buzz on the kitchen table. It was his cell phone. He had left it behind in his rush out the door. 

I walked over and picked it up. The screen revealed several text messages awaiting his response. I resisted the temptation to snoop. Instead, I put the phone on silent mode. It was in those few seconds when everything would change. Instead of putting that phone back down, I lingered with it in my hand for an extra second or two. I allowed my mind to think twice about the temptation. 

After a silent debate in my mind produced no distinct winner, I settled on a compromise. I would not read the text messages. I would just look at what apps he had downloaded. What a slippery slope indeed.

Although I did manage to restrain myself from reading those messages, I made the mistake of opening his photo album. In less than a minute, my heart was pounding as my mind tried to deny what my eyes were telling me. There were dozens, no, hundreds of pics of me in various stages of exposure!

My body was still attractive and I took pride in that. My red curls and blue eyes topped off the package of my 5-5, 130ish body. That my breasts were not only 36c, but capped by large, silver-dollar sized, dark, pink nipples, made them the object of fascination to just about every man who knew me. My red bush was hubby's playground, although he had told me how other men would "pay a pretty penny" to get a view of my light-haired pussy.

Some of the pics were of me in various stages of undressing. Some when I was in the shower. Others I was asleep in bed or napping on the couch. Most did not show my face, but there were a few that did. There were several that were taken while he must have been looking over my shoulder. I had absolutely no idea about any of them! He had obviously been ultra sneaky in somehow getting these shots on his phone. I could not believe my eyes!

I did not know whether to scream or cry! I was confused. WHY would he do this? HOW did he do this without me knowing? I thought about the times he had said he was texting when perhaps he was really snapping pictures of me. As I flipped through picture after picture, flashing before me were photos that told a full story of my body. Piece by piece, there was nothing unexposed. 

My hand trembled as I went to his text messages. I knew exactly what I was looking for. I had to know. Were these pics for his private viewing only? Or were these fuel for some unspeakable perversion that shared my body with others?! 

My worst fears were soon realized. The archive of his text messages not only contained countless messages with images of me embedded in them, but ongoing chatter exchanges between he and the recipients. The comments were absolutely naughty and explicit. 

The text messages that had buzzed moments earlier included two different requests for the "Fuck Kathleen Pic of the Day". OMG!

I would have discovered much more if it had not been for the sudden burst through the door that was my hubby. When his vision immediately registered me sitting at the table with HIS phone in my hand, he stopped dead in his tracks. There was a long awkward silence.

With a firm, staccato, accusatory tone in my voice, I broke the silence with, "What -- the -- fuck -- is -- THIS?!" I held up the phone. 

He said nothing.

"What are all these pictures? Of ME! And these text messages?! What is going on?!"

He stammered, backing up on his first few syllables that I think were headed in the "how dare you look at my phone" direction. Fortunately for him, he negotiated a quick course correction on that one. "It is not what you think."

"And just what do you think I think it is!?!"

For the next 30 seconds, sound came out of his mouth, but I heard nothing. My rage was drowning out his words. Then I suddenly felt a rush of aggression and vengeance consume me. I stood up, dropped his phone to the floor, and ground my heal into it, feeling it crush. It popped as a spark flickered, signaling the end of its service time.

My rage zeroed in on him. My eyes narrowed as I stood with my fists clenched. My impulsive act of destruction shocked him. So did my tone and my posture as I stepped towards him. I growled at him, "You are a fucking pervert!"

He said nothing. 

Like a predator following the scent of blood, I moved to pounce on my prey. The tables were turned as my rage and righteous leverage outweighed any actions he had at his disposal in that moment of shock and awe. 

What I said next was not an irrational scream of a wounded wife, but the cold, calculated voice of a strategist. My eyes pierced him as I sternly muttered, "Take off your pants."

He looked at me with a confused look on his face. I echoed, "I said take off your pants... NOW."

As he fumbled with his belt, I reached into the back pocket of my jeans and slid my own phone out. So cool and under control, I actually smiled at the irony that my phone had just stroked my ass, the same ass he had been using for his pervy actions. And now I was going to use that phone for payback.

Irritated that he was so slow, I barked "Strip naked dammit! Take it ALL off." Whatever uncertainty his mind held in fears of me exposing his pervy game was unknown to me, but it effectively transformed him into a compliant sucker. With his pants on the floor and his unbuttoned shirt pulling away, I tapped the camera app on my phone. 

"Smile, you fucking pervert."  His expression of shock humored me. "Get naked now." 

As he peeled off his jockey shorts, I snickered at how his cock was shrunken to the size of a small grape.  "Oh, the boys are gonna love that one."

As he stood naked, I barked at him "Bend over the counter." I felt intoxicated by the power. "Push your balls and cock between your legs so I can see them back here!" He complied ...  

I popped open the dishwasher and reached for one of the wooden spoons. I held the spoon face in my hand as I aimed the handle at his bare asshole... 

I dipped the handle in a bowel in the sink that had some melted ice cream and chocolate sauce in it. "Let's see how you like this, you fucking pervert." And I slid the handle up his asshole. 

I made him turn around and look at me, revealing the spoon in his asshole down between his legs.  

"Now, who shall I send these to?" My tone taunted him. My lusty, vengeful thirst craved payback. I scrolled through my contacts, checking one name after another... friends, coworkers, neighbors, , , and then I hit SEND.

My life has never been the same.



Average Wifey Files #03



For our 20th anniversary, hubby had arranged for a special 5 day stay at the Disneyland Resort. We both enjoyed the "happiest place on earth" for its thrills, sights, sounds, and all around enchantment. 

A few days before we were scheduled to arrive, hubby sauntered into our bedroom while I was drying off after a shower. He often did this, propping himself on the bed, eyeing my body with that contagious look of erotic desire. It felt good to know that after all these years, I still had "it".

As I let my towel fall to the ground, Michael smiled and murmured, "Freshly shaven... mmmm, I like that." Although my legs were smooth as silk from hips to toes, I knew he was referencing my pussy. For years he had admired my light, red bush with soft curls. But for the past five or six years, he had transitioned into an appetite for the "bald pussy" look. "Perhaps I will need to find some special clothes to pack away for my hot lil fuck."

Oh how I loved that pet name he had for me. "Hot Lil Fuck" were three words he could melt me with even on the coldest of days. I turned to face him, my bare, married pussy in full view for his eyes to enjoy as I smiled and said, "your hot lil fuck will wear whatever you want, baby."

The result of those words would shook and arouse me a few days later.

We arrived at the Disney Hotel a few days later. Hubby loaded our suitcases on the luggage rack and wheeled them towards the elevator as the attendant moved our car to a private parking area reserved for hotel guests. A quick check-in moved us right along, getting us to our room at the late afternoon hour, just in time for us to unpack and head out for dinner. As I unfurled my clothes from the suitcase and hung them in the closet or slid them into the cabinet drawers, I was still unsure what I wanted to wear. Then I discovered that hubby was not unsure.

He snuck up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist as he kissed me on the back of my neck. As his hands slithered up under my top, he whispered in my ear, "I brought something for you to wear this evening." He lingered against me, his fingers greedily sliding over my nipples and giving them both light twists, just the way he knew I liked it. "NO bra needed, baby" he whispered as he slid a hand around and unclasped my bra.

In a dance that happily took more than a few moments, he slowly removed my clothing until I stood in front of him completely naked, my back against his chest, as his hands kept in constant contact with my body. Then, before I realized what he was doing, I felt him secure a soft, silky belt around my head covering my eyes like a blindfold. It was both surprising and arousing. 

With my vision suspended, I began to quiver as I felt his body move away from mine. I could hear the soft brushing of fabric, hints that he was handling what he planned for me to wear. Then I felt his open mouth on my right hip. His tongue began tracing a wet line upward, led slowly by his hot breath. Predictably he stopped at my nipple. His tongue lapped at my large, light, pink nipple. Then he migrated up to my ear and whispered, "I have something very special for you to wear, my hot lil fuck."

I quivered at his touch, his words, and the anticipation of what was to adorn my body. My mind raced, wondering what sweet outfit he had purchased with this moment in mind. My 36c breasts hung free as my bare pussy felt the wisp of cool air revealing his movements around me. I then felt his warm hand lifting my right foot a few inches off the ground, followed by the sensation of soft fabric sliding over it. He followed the same motion with my other foot. Then slowly worked what felt like a pair of shorts up my calves, over my knees, and then ever increasingly snug over my thighs. I wriggled my hips as my bodily eagerly accepted whatever this special garment was. Finally, he fit it over my ass, as I felt it so very tight against my skin, wondering just how pronounced my bare pussy folds made an impression on the fabric; a camel-toe was a reasonable expectation for what I was feeling.

I stood still, feeling the heat of his breath on my freshly covered pussy, his open mouth breathing lust through the fabric of whatever I was wearing. I was getting so wet that I was certain my new, snug, mysterious shorts were certain to show evidence of my arousal.

Then I felt him lifting my arms over my head. All the while he was dressing me, not a word was spoken. I stood in silence, unable to see. He worked quietly, keeping me under the spell of his lust. I felt him sliding something over my uplifted arms, then working it delicately over my head and shoulders, careful not to disturb or lower my blindfold. I was braless. I knew whatever this was, it was certain that my full breasts would be somehow featured in it. I could feel the soft V-neck collar line dipping lower than what I normally would wear.

With the snug shorts and V-neck top fitting my body as he desired, he then moved me in small steps across the room. He was positioning me in front of the big mirror that ran from ankles to just a foot below the ceiling. The moment of unveiling was just a few seconds away when he whispered in my ear, "Tonight you will be my NAUGHTY hot lil fuck."

The way he drew out that word "naughty" gave me the chills. Still blindfolded, his tone of voice was more pronounced than usual. I sensed a level of desire and lust in his words that I rarely experienced. I was anxious to see just how he had dolled me up. I stood with my hands at my side. Quiet and submissive, just he way he liked me.

Then, he leaned in against me from behind. I could feel the bulge of his cock against my ass. He whispered in my ear, "And now let me reveal to you the image I so desire tonight, my hot lil fuck."

Slowly he drew the blindfold away from my eyes until I had a full view of myself standing in front of the mirror. Over my shoulder was his face flushed with a torrent of lust and desire that I could recall only appearing during our most intense moments of pleasure. But that was insignificant compared to what I saw in the mirror, the reflection of my body dressed by his own hand.

No bra. No panties. Just a pair of shorts and a V-neck tee-shirt with a cute picture of Tinkerbell on it. The shorts were pink, with pixie dust sprinkled about in gold splashes of glitter. I recognized the shorts and tee immediately ~ they belonged to our teen daughter! A gift to her last summer during a previous visit to the magic kingdom. They were so revealing and suggestive, we only allowed her to wear the outfit for sleepwear around our home.

As I looked at my reflection in the mirror with his eyes peering over my shoulder, I instinctively moaned, "Oh My God." I was wearing my teenage daughter's shorts and tee... at my hubby's doing... for his sexual pleasure. It was a sudden wave of competing ideas that almost buckled my knees.

But before I could say anything else or react in any other way, he seized the moment and said to me, "Tonight you will be my hot lil fuck like never before."

I trembled at the thought of realizing what he meant. As I felt his unzippered crotch worm closer against my ass, his married cock pressed firm and tight against my shorts. I felt his hands slither under my top and fondle my breasts. I felt a surge of energy coming from him that was new and forbidden. I gave in to the moment, to the fantasy, to the private lust of the naughty imagery as I yielded my body to him and quietly moaned, "Ohhh Daddy."

Day one at the park had barely even begun and we were well on our way to horizons never before explored. I suspended all judgment and gave way to his naughty and fertile mind. It was a fantasy land ride for sure.



Average Wifey Files #04



As my doorbell rang, I glanced at the clock and smiled. I could set my watch to my friend's Tuesday morning visits. I opened the door and greeted her with an embrace as she playfully said, "Are you ready for some fun?"

Liz and I had been friends since college. Back then, I would be off in the library studying while she was in some sorority house partying. I worked hard for my grades, she sucked off professors for hers. We had our differences for sure, but boy did we have fun together!

After college I got married, while Liz just simply got laid; over and over again by a seemingly endless parade of some of the finest studs the southern California beaches displayed. She incessantly teased me about my "vanilla" sex life as she flaunted her "flavor of the day" exploits. I always knew she was just teasing me, perhaps even a bit jealous secretly, but also knew that she got a kick out of seeing how it sometimes aroused my curiosity.

Liz was a knockout blonde. She worked hard to keep her 5-6, 130 pound frame looking good. That she was born with a pair of breasts that looked better than any boob-job could dream of was her first-impression gold card. Her globes had that perfect round shape with nipples that set so high that she often did not wear a bra. This partly due to the fact she did not need one, and partly due to the fact that any bra she liked seemed incapable of covering even half of her nipples. 

But I digress. 

The reason Liz enjoyed our Tuesday morning coffee times together was obvious. I was not only her friend, but her safe haven when it came to exposing her secrets. She was highly sexual, yet had a way of being sophisticated about it. She rarely, if ever, was seen as a slut even though most dirty sluts would have a hard time competing with Liz's fuck calendar. She had a refined sense of discretion that meant rarely did she ever speak of her sexual encounters. 

She was only 29, but had already fucked some prominent men in and about the southern California region. As much as she liked the expensive tastes and gifts that accompanied fucking the high-rollers of business and politics, her greatest appetite was for the bleached-blonde surfers who were a year 'round mainstay to the local beaches. They were simple. They were delicious. They were here today, gone tomorrow, no-strings-attached partners that she chose randomly. 

Each Tuesday, she would stop by to update on my her most recent experiences. Usually we just chatted about things. Occasionally she would include pics or vids on her cellphone. A handful of times she even took a phone call from one of them while sitting in my living room, making me sit by and wait (and watch) as she played out some phone sex role play, complete with her finger pleasing herself. 

But on this Tuesday, I was in for a surprise. "Kathleen, I know you are probably gonna say no, but I have something I really want to show you!"

Her tone of voice and devilish eyes definitely had me spooked. "Show me what, Liz?"

"You have to promise not to get mad at me. You have to just go with it and trust that I will not get you in trouble, okay?"

"In trouble?" That was not the type of pre-risk assurance I felt comfortable hearing.

"Oh Kathleen. You just have to trust me. I really, REALLY want you to see something." She was nearly pleading with me. 

As much as my good sense urged me to either say 'no' or at least find out more of what she was talking about, my desire to maintain my identity as her most trusted confident had the last say. "Okay Liz, what do you want to show me?"

She giggled excitedly as she pulled her phone out. I expected to see some racy photo or vid. Instead, I watched as she quickly pecked out a text message. 

"Who are you texting?"

"You will see soon enough!" I recognized that naughty gleam in her eye, having witnessed it during those phone sex episodes. Less than a minute later, the doorbell rang. I froze. "Well? Aren't you going to answer the door, Kathleen?"

"Oh my god, Liz! Who is it?!" She just sat and smiled, refusing to answer my question. "Just go answer the door!"

Almost under her spell now, I got up and trembled my way to the front door. I cracked open the door, my heart racing, my mind screaming in my head "WHAT ARE YOU DOING, KATHLEEN!". There on my porch stood a young man in shorts and a tee shirt. I had no idea who he was. "Hello?" I timidly said to him.

"Hi. Are you Kathleen? I am looking for Liz." I nodded politely as my eyes realized how firm and handsome this young man was. I cracked the door open wider.

"Yes, I am Kathleen. Liz is inside. Would you like to come in?" I widened the door further, inviting him inside. 

"Nice to meet you, Kathleen. My name is Mark." He extended his hand to politely greet me. No sooner had we touched hands than he looked beyond my shoulder to Liz in the living room. "Hey Liz, got your text." His knowing smile alerted me that this was headed in a direction that made me nervous.

"Come over here and sit down, baby" Liz said as she patted the cushion next to her. 

"May I?" Mark politely volleyed back at me.

I stammered a bit and said, "Sure Mark, like I said, come on in." He was so relaxed you would have thought he was in his own home. He strolled to the living room and sat down next to Liz.

I stood speechless, the door still open. "My god, Kathleen, shut the door and come sit down, girl!" Liz was in charge and definitely up to something. Before I could compose myself, Liz waved me back to the chair I had been sitting in. 

As I took a seat, Mark smiled and said to Liz, "I don't mean to be rude, but I really don't have much time." 

"Ok baby. Give me just a second." Liz turned her attention towards me. "Kathleen, I have something I just HAVE to show you." She giggled as I squirmed. 

"Remember a few months ago when you told me that you wish you could just once see an amazing cock in real life? Not just admire a pic, but actually see it with your own eyes, maybe even touch it?" 

I could not speak. I could not believe that Liz was repeating my most secret desire in front of this total stranger. I was so stunned that my mind was like delayed, failing to put two-and-two together to explain why Mark was sitting there.

"Well, today I thought I would show you something that might scratch that itch of yours!" 

Every piece of good sense I had alerted me to danger. I should have politely declined. But instead, I opened my mouth and the following words somehow popped out. "Show me something?" That was all the opening Liz needed.

"Um hmmmm" she hummed as she slid her hand up Mark's leg. My eyes trailed along. What followed just seconds later was nothing less than an audible gasp sneaking out of my mouth. Liz moved one hand to the left of the zipper on Mark's shorts, the other hand to the right. As she pulled his shorts snug to his body, I saw the outline of something with such immense proportions that I could not help but gasp.

Mark seemed comfortable with being Liz' plaything. He leaned back just a little bit and allowed his legs to spread open wider. My eyes danced along the length of his outlined shaft. "I think you want to see it, Kathleen." Liz was both affirming me and leading me. 

She expertly unbuttoned his shorts and lowered his zipper slowly but directly. Then, with my eyes unashamedly staring now, Liz said "Like I said, I want to show you something."

Mark's feet pressed against the carpet as he lifted his ass off the cushion just enough to allow Liz to slide his shorts down. What I saw unveiled to my eyes in that moment was absolutely stunning! As Liz tugged his shorts lower, his cock seemed to just keep going and going and going!

"OH MY GOD!" I moaned. By the time Liz had finished sliding his shorts to his knees, Mark smiled as he enjoyed the "first time eyes" of an adoring married woman getting caught up in the spectacle of his amazing penis! It was not only long, by my initial guess at least 12 inches long, but it was so thick that I honestly thought it might be a trick at first!

"Was I right, Kathleen? Is this something you would like to see? Maybe even touch?" Liz spoke with a voice that was more lusty than normal. Mark nodded with a look on his face that matched Liz' lust.

Liz cupped him with two hands at the base of his cock, his balls filling her hands. "Come closer. He doesn't bite!"

My married eyes lead my body forward. Every intention I had of being a faithful wife was in jeopardy. I moved to Liz's side on the couch. He was even bigger now! 

Liz slid a hand up the underside of his cock, then back down again. "Watch how big he can get." I watched as she softly stroked him. His youthful, primed cock instantly engorged with arousal making him grow even larger.

He was soo big! Without turning my eyes away from my study of his cock, I whispered to Liz in half amazement, half curiosity, "Have you actually fucked him?" 

She moaned "Yes. Twice. Both memorable." As she continued to move her hand along his cock, she asked, "Do you want to feel it?" Before I could answer, she moved one of her hands to mine. I felt her softly lift my hand up and aim it towards Mark.

I was trembling. I was aroused. I was utterly consumed by the vision of the most amazing cock I had ever seen! And yes, I wanted to touch it! 

It was the outer edge of my thumb that made first contact. I will NEVER forget that moment. The firm, ripe, fleshy give the mushroom tip of his cock had. It was warm and slippery. Liz had already managed to manipulate a small stream of precum outward. Instantly, my forefinger coupled with my thumb to squeeze and slide along the lubricated ridge of his cockhead. 

What followed was but a few more moments of gratuitous fondling before Liz said to me, "I am going to make him cum. Don't move your hand." 

There I sat, leaning across her lap. My hand slithering along the upper edge of his cock. My eyes drinking in the view. My married heart forsaking my vows as I totally gave in to my lust.

Mark moaned and within a few seconds, Liz's expert strokes milked cum from his cock in heavy spurts that shot warm, creamy cum all over my hand and wrist. As Liz completed the hand-job, I greedily slid my cum coated hand from the tip of his cock all the way down to his balls. Getting one last feel of that amazing organ.

Within minutes, Mark was gone, Liz was gone, and I was left with a burning desire for a cock greater than anything my dear hubby would ever be able to provide me. 

The fuse had been lit. 

I would never be the same.



Average Wifey Files #05



Hubby was away on business, staying at a downtown hotel in Dallas. I was at home, basically unfettered for almost four full days. It was not uncommon. We had grown accustomed to the routine after years of practice. 

We both had a little secret that we kept from each other. Although I knew that Michael had a thing for online porn, I did not know that he was into naughty chatting. A few years earlier I had gotten a little suspicious of him and sifted through the cellphone bill which led to him admitting that he occasionally dabbled in phonesex. I figured that was probably something he still was into now and then on his trips. He certainly showed enough interest in trying to engage me in that activity!

His cybersex chats were a secret he kept from me. The irony was that I too kept the same secret from him! I had explored around the edges of erotic literature online for a period of time. Eventually it drew me to another level of interaction - cybersex chatting.

So, what unfolded late one evening was certainly the last thing I would have ever expected. After his check-in call with me after dinner, I took a bath. As I sat in the tub, my mind began to wander to various thoughts of arousal. Before long, I was out of the tub and slipping into my robe.

As I settled onto the couch with my laptop, my pulse quickened at the excitement I anticipated. My red hair was a bit damp as it sat cool on my shoulders. I felt sexy in my untied robe, split open at my waist. My rolling breasts rested just inside the edges of my robe, my light pink nipples already hardening and poking against the sheer fabric of my silky, pink robe. My freshly shaved pussy was out of my sight, tucked just under the humming heat of the laptop.

I logged in. As normal, it did not take long before I was fielding a number of offers for chat. I read the nicknames searching for one with potential. I passed on "Daddywithneeds" and "69forU". I checked out the profiles on "Hubbyalone" and "MILFlover", but neither struck a chord for me. Then I found myself attracted to the nickname "HotelHubby". The obvious duplication of this man's nick and my hubby far away in that Texas hotel room somehow conjured up fresh thoughts of desire in me. As I read his profile, I was even more intrigued. "Simple, honest, hubby far away from home looking for a woman who knows how to get hot, get off, and get me off."

I laughed at how direct, yet genuine that sounded. My mind quickly arranged images of Michael, alone in his hotel room, trying to entice me into phonesex earlier. How he was probably laying naked on the bed as we talked on the phone. How his cock, which I adored, was probably stiff as we chatted, in hopes that my words might give him a lift. I quickly merged those thoughts and images of Michael with the profile of "HotelHubby" and decided to send him a message.

After a brief exchange that typifies most chats, we declared our ages, locations and summary descriptions. Then we enjoyed a few moments of banter that was both edgy and real. Within minutes, I gushed "I LIKE YOU!" onto the screen. 

As my mind massaged a vision of Michael naked in his hotel room, "HotelHubby" began to lay the foundation for a role play of him spotting me out his balcony window in the hotel Jacuzzi. I added to the setting by suggesting that my hubby might be at an important business meeting, leaving me alone at the hotel for a few more hours. 

With the aid of my regular prompts and hints, "HotelHubby" was actively typing his thoughts about how his eyes were peaking down at me, my body perfectly perched on the edge of the spa just under the railing of his balcony. He was descriptive about how his eyes were slithering down my bikini top...

HOTELHUBBY - "...admiring your wet top clinging to your tits as I lick my lips at the naughty thought of what my mouth could do with those hard nipples poking out"

I sighed softly as I felt my married pussy moist between my legs. I chatted back, "Feeling that sixth sense of being watched, but not knowing who or where."

HOTELHUBBY - "...dare to look over the railing straight down at you, my married cock so hard that it is poking my shorts between the vertical bars of the railing"

My mind locked on to that image of Michael laying naked on his bed, hard and aroused. I squirmed to get more comfortable on the couch. 

HOTELHUBBY - "...watching you as you tilt your head back, pulling your top tighter,,, softly moaning out loud, 'oh fuck' as I watch your tits form against the wet fabric"

With each exchange, I continued to reveal more about my body and desires. In a moment of feeling the urge to be known even better I typed, "My name is Kathleen,,, please call me by name. I like that."

HOTELHUBBY - "...mmm Kathleen. I like that name! Please call me Michael."

I chose to overlook the coincidence of his name being the same as my hubby's, and quickly shot back "and I like the mysterious sense I have in the Jacuzzi that somebody's cock is hard for me, yearning for me." As I leaned back on the couch, my pussy was wet enough to allow me to feel that dripping sensation. I wriggled both of my arms out of my robe and let it fall from my body. It felt good to be horny and naked as I plunged deeper into the chat.

HOTELHUBBY - "...I decide to risk it, seeing nobody nearby... I drop my room cardkey over the railing aiming for you. I smile as it lands on the deck no more than two feet away from your married ass."

I joke that I see it, pick it up, and hand it to a young college girl I see sitting at a table poolside.

HOTELHUBBY - "LOL ... Suddenly I realize that perhaps you have an even better idea! Two amazing pussies for my single, hard cock that is aching to fuck you."

Stroking my deep secret lesbian desires, I immediately ran with the idea. My words poured over every inch of her body, a perky blonde with sparkling blue eyes and an hourglass figure that dared even the most faithful hubby to look twice. 

HOTELHUBBY - "mmm yes... like one of the girls at our church. I often think of her when I am horny."

I stoked that fire, knowing he wanted to be as naughty as I would allow him to be.

HOTELHUBBY - "...I love sitting directly behind her during church services, giving me a great view of her ass when we stand and strategic glances over her shoulder when we sit. Oh how I would love to fuck that sweet little angel."

I chipped in my own naughty thoughts about how perhaps he was not the only one who had noticed her, that perhaps his wife harbored secret, lesbian urges, revealing another layer of secret reality from my own life.

HOTELHUBBY - "oh fuck! If that were my reality I would make sure that my wife got her wish as often as possible!"

I was sassy as I typed "be careful what you wish for!"

HOTELHUBBY - "oh baby, to see my wife undressing our angel and offering her sweet pussy to me... and then seeing the delight in my wife's eyes as she sees me pump a load of cum inside our angel, and then lean down and lick my cum from her pussy!"

I was so aroused! That image was overwhelming me. The thought of Michael and I with the girl from church, seeing him fuck her, then doing the unspeakable by eating out her cum filled pussy pushed me to the edge.

HOTELHUBBY - "and then bend my wife over and finish her off with a second load as our little angel sucks my balls as they pulsate and unload."

MY mind was fully engaged with the fantasy view of the girl from church to the point that I blurted out her name, Mary, in our chat. There was a long moment that followed when nothing else was added to the chat. I was feverishly fingering myself, accounting the frozen scroll of chat to his jerking hard in the moment.

Then . . .

HOTELHUBBY - "Did you say Mary?"

As I fingered myself closer to the edge I simply hit "Y" in reply. Long pause... then finally

HOTELHUBBY - "Does she have an ass that fills a pair of jeans like a goddess?"

I again reached out with one finger and slapped the key "Y".

HOTELHUBBY - "Do you have memories of her swimming in your backyard pool when she was in High School?"

My arousal had completely dulled my senses to anything else, lowering my inhibitions and suspending my good judgment. All I could do was be amazed at how connected I felt to him at that moment, like he was almost reading my mind. I eagerly replied "YES".

HOTELHUBBY - "Dare I ask if you have any idea if your hubby has harbored secret desires to fuck her little pussy in YOUR bed while you watch?"

I thought the question was odd, out of cadence with our banter and trajectory towards orgasm. I was still oblivious to what was happening. Before I could reply...

HOTELHUBBY - "Kathleen, do you know how fucking hot you are making me right now?! I cannot wait to get home!"

Suddenly, reality hit me right between the eyes! Michael... Mary... me. The details he knew about my body that I confusingly thought maybe I had shared with him, even though I could not remember doing so. 

OMG ... "HOTELHUBBY" was MICHAEL!

My cellphone rang... we talked further and embraced our naughty connection even more. He told me he was cutting his trip short. He wanted to be home in time to go to church together Sunday. I licked my lips,,, and then my wet finger. 

Things were about to take a turn for the naughtier! 



Average Wifey Files #06



It was our first day of five at Disneyland. Our special anniversary trip had gotten off to an amazing and naughty start that afternoon (Average Wifey Files #3). Michael had imposed such a naughty role on me, dressing me up in our teen daughter's shorts and tee before we went out for dinner before spending time in the magic kingdom.

As we rode the elevator down to the lobby, I felt sexy, but self-conscious. I was wearing what Michael had sneakily stowed away for our trip. I could feel my daughter's pink shorts snug against me. The picture of a flying Tinkerbell shaking her magic wand of golden, glittering, pixie dust was flittering across my pussy. My freshly shaved pussy; which revealed a cameltoe impression that was far from discreet. A bare pussy and no panties beneath a pair of tight shorts will do that sort of thing!

The matching, pink tee I wore was a much more comfortable fit. It hung low enough that as I stood there, the fabric of my shorts that thinly veiled my ass and pussy were tucked just out of sight. But the low-cut V-neck collar was working overtime to draw attention to my 36c breasts, jiggling braless at Michael's request of course. The bright illustrations of Tinkerbell pixie dust exploding into Disneyesque fireworks seemed to have been designed as a fitting canvas to the way my breasts heaved against the fabric. I may have been married for 20 years, but I still had amazing, natural lift in my breasts.

My pink socks and tennis shoes completed the look that Michael had envisioned during one of his more naughty moments of lust. As the elevator doors slid open at the lobby level, we were greeted by a gathering of six or seven others waiting to take the elevator up to their rooms. That was the moment I knew the evening was headed for some moments of adventure. The two men standing there, one with just his wife and the other with his family, simply stared without a hint of apology. One wife glared at me while the other turned to attend to her youngest in a stroller; meaning she missed the big-eyed, draw-dropping, undeniable look of lust her hubby shot at me. 

Michael put his arm around me and smiled a polite smile as we stepped past them and made our way through the lobby. I felt as if I were a celebrity making a red-carpet arrival. It felt like all eyes were on me. I was extremely aware of my body, how it felt exposed, even indecent. But that was balanced by the swagger Michael had as he took pride in parading me in front of others. His mind was naughty, but his pride in me was even greater. 

As we walked out the doors to the hotel, the early evening sun was perched behind us. As we approached a fountain, Michael asked me to pose for a picture. As he aimed his trusted iPhone at me, I had no idea that the way the sunlight penetrated my tee shirt from over my shoulder left a sultry silhouette that profiled the seductive curves of my body. At his direction, I turned to the side, which revealed the lower curves of my breasts shadowed against my tee. As his iPhone captured the images, my poses captured the attention of random strangers walking past. 

Finally, Michael lifted me up so I could stand on the flat lip of the fountain, a good three feet off of the ground. I stood with my feet apart wide enough so I could keep my balance. This also created the image of my legs in an a-frame position tugging everyone's eyes upward to that intersection where my tight shorts seemed invisible compared to the quite visible form of what they covered. Of course, standing that high off of the ground only invited bold, roving eyes to blaze a path allowing them to walk within a few feet of me, hoping for a peek.

While waited for a table at the restaurant, Michael and I stood in the doorway, conversing quietly. He was taking delight in the attention I was getting. I was taking delight in the pleasure my attention-getting was giving him. 

The moment we were seated, he slid his hand over to stroke my bare thigh. By the time we were served two glasses of water, his fingers were flicking at the edges of my shorts. As I buttered my pre-meal roll, he brushed his fingers over my cameltoe, making sure to define the edges of both folds before he would wriggle over my slit. As we ordered, while actually speaking to the waiter, he wriggled a finger under my shorts and pried his way to the outer edge of my pussy lip. When the waiter asked Michael how he wanted his steak cooked, he answered "medium rare -- I really want to see that pink". 

OMG. Even though the waiter had no idea, or at least I was pretty sure he didn't, I couldn't believe how naughty Michael was being. By the time we were served our dinner salads, Michael had already quietly conveyed to me how he looked forward to devouring his "hot lil fuck" later. My arousal always shot through the roof whenever he used that pet name for me. Even out in public at Disneyland!

As the waiter served us our dinner plates, both Michael and I restrained our smiles as we noticed how the waiter lingered over my shoulder as he slid my plate in front of me. I was not sure if it was the view of my braless breasts barely concealed by that V-neck tee or his possible peak of the impression of the back of Michael's hand in my shorts, but he definitely lingered as he settled my plate to the table. 

Six different times during our dinner, he returned to ask if everything was ok. Each time he positioned himself over my shoulder. Each time Michael would answer "thanks, everything is great." And when he said "great", he would simultaneously push his finger a little deeper between my folds. That's right. During our entire dinner, he kept his hand under my shorts, probing my pussy inch by inch, leaving it there for minutes at a time until the lust-driven waiter would return with his question. It was like an extremely, slow-motion, finger fuck!

When we stood to leave the table, the only thing dripping more than my pussy was Michael's finger as he slid it out of my pussy and pulled his hand out from under my shorts. He discreetly put his arm around my shoulder and bent his arm so that his finger flittered across my lips. "That's my dessert" he cooed in my ear.

But before dessert, we still had plans for enjoying a few rides in the park. As we left the restaurant, I felt so stimulated and aroused that I was ready to head back to our room. Little did I know that Michael's mind had other plans. Other naughty plans. The night was about to take a turn toward his forbidden fantasies that would both shock and expose me.



Average Wifey Files #07



When my dear friend Marsha called and asked if we could talk, I picked up on the stress in her voice. "Is everything okay, Marsha?"

"Oh Kathleen, are you busy right now? I really need to talk." Before I could finish my answer she blurted, "I will be right over."

It was midmorning as I was finishing off my second cup of coffee when I heard her knock at the front door. No sooner did I open the door than she broke down in tears and clung to me. I held her as I waited for her to at least step inside the doorway. My mind was racing as I flipped through various scenarios in my mind that might explain her emotional outburst. 

Finally she leaned across the threshold and I shut the front door. "What happened, Marsha?"

"Oh Kathleen, I have done something terrible, just terrible!" She took a deep breath, fighting back the tears as we stood in the entry way. She tried to continue, but choked up. 

"Come sit down, Marsha." I was trying to keep an outward appearance of calm even though I was terrified about what terrible thing Marsha had done. Even though she was an emotional person, I had never seen her this upset. 

We sat down on the couch. She leaned her head on my shoulder, grasping a tissue in her hand as she muttered, "I am so ashamed, Kathleen."

"What happened, Marsha?" I was a bit more forceful now, unwilling to let her keep me in the dark any longer. "You know you can tell me anything. I am safe."

"Yes, I know. You are the only I could come to with this." Marsha sat up, showing signs of composure as she took a deep breath. "Kathleen, you are not going to like this."

"It's okay, Marsha. I am here for you."

"Yesterday, after Jenny left for school, I went to her bedroom to scoop up any laundry she left on the floor." (Jenny is her teenage daughter in high school.) "That's when I found this on her bed..." 

Marsha leaned over and fumbled through her purse, pulling out a small, pink diary. "It is Jenny's. It was just setting there on her bed. At first I did not even think much about it. But in those few seconds I was gathering up her clothes from the floor, my curiosity got the best of me."

"Oh Marsha" I moaned. I now had a big hint where this was headed. Jenny had grown up calling me "Aunt Kathleen" even though her mom and I were just friends. Jenny had come to trust me and confided in me as she got older, especially after Marsha and her husband divorced during Jen's freshman year. What instantly haunted me was that a few weeks earlier, Jen had told me about her new "boyfriend". Her mom had no idea. But Jenny felt she was in love. Unfortunately, this guy she loved was a married man.

Marsha continued on. "Yes. I opened it and began to read it. I cannot tell you how shocked I was as I read it." I nodded to affirm her. "Kathleen, the things she has written in this are not only x-rated, but scandalous!" She shook the diary at me as if she were scolding me. I was so conflicted. My mind was racing as I tried to calculate what my place was in this, having prior knowledge to what I was sure Marsha had discovered as she read Jen's diary.

"Listen to this, Kathleen. I cannot believe my Jenny could actually write something like this." With that, she opened the diary and proceeded to read it to me.

--July 4-- Mom left last night for the holiday weekend and Brian's wife and kids left this morning to visit her family. I am going to get to spend the night at his place. We have plans to fuck in his masterbath spa-tub surrounded by aroma candles. I can hardly wait!"

Marsha paused and looked up at me. I was flustered. Should I play dumb and ask 'who is Brian?' or keep quiet and leave my options open? Before I could make a decision she said to me, "Kathleen, it gets worse."

--July 6-- Last night Brian taught me another erotic lesson. He stood me in front of a mirror and undressed me. His hands felt so warm and strong. Then, as I stood naked facing the mirror with him looking over my shoulder from behind, I felt him squeeze warm honey down my neck and shoulders. He rubbed it in, my reflection in the mirror all shiny. He smeared his hands over my boobs and then over my tummy. I was shocked at how warm and sticky it felt when he squirted a big blob of honey over my pussy and then used his hands to rub it in. Then, we had what he called a "sweet fuck." I love him!

I sat stunned. I had never met Brian. I only knew about him from what Jen had selectively revealed to me. But she had only hinted at his 'romantic' side. As I tried to sort out my thoughts while staying strong for Marsha, I then was confronted by something I could never have seen coming.

"Kathleen. There is so much more. But I cannot read it to you. Because there is something even worse." She paused and looked away. 

I thought to myself, what does she mean, worse? Is Jen pregnant? Did the wife catch them in the act? My patience was wearing thin. "What Marsha?"

She spoke softly, almost whispering, unable to even look at me as she muttered, "I know who Brian is." There was a long pause. Then she continued. "Remember the guy I told you about that Mark (her former husband) suspected that I was fucking around with?" I nodded. "I told you it was not true." I nodded again. "Well, I lied to you. It was true."

Then she stopped. Perhaps waiting for my judgment or just weary of what she had battled for so long. I just sat silent... stunned... utterly caught off guard. Finally, I gathered myself and asked, "Who was he, Marsha?"

Without looking up she said, "Oh Kathleen. It was BRIAN." My reaction was an involuntary, audible gasp. What I did not realize was that this was only the first of several shockwaves I was about to experience.

"It gets worse." I was numb-headed at what she had revealed, so the notion that things could be worse almost did not register. But then she spoke and boy did it register!

"Kathleen" ,,, long pause ,,, "Brian and I have been fucking for almost three years now." I flinched and shook my head as my facial expression screamed confusion. Marsha finally looked up and read my reaction. 

I tried to regain my composure. My feelings of guilt for keeping secrets from Marsha about Jen were brushed aside. Now I was confused and tried to get a handle on the context. "Three years? Marsha, do you mean that you and Brian . . . " my voice tailed off. Marsha nodded.

"Yes, me and Brian. Still." 

I was stunned! As I dropped all pretense of calm, I flopped back and blurted out, "Do you mean you and Brian are still ... FUCKING?!" 

Marsha nodded with a look of shame, then said those words again, and again I was unprepared for them. "But Kathleen, it gets worse." As my mind and body barely absorbed the shockwaves she already had thrust on me, I braced for yet another.

"Worse?! Worse than you and your daughter fucking the same man?!" 

Marsha handed me the diary. "Kathleen. I do not love him. I just love fucking him. His mind is amazing. Sometimes I can cum just thinking about him. So, when I read what Jen wrote on the entry dated July 18, I was overwhelmed with naughty desires for him right there on the spot." She nodded at me to read it.

I fumbled through the diary, flipping the pages, utterly desensitized to the fact that I was invading Jen's privacy big time! But I had to read what was written on July 18. Finally I found it and started reading it to myself. Marsha interrupted me and said, "read it out loud."

--July 18-- Brian took me to see a movie tonight. It was a romantic love story. He sat in the seat behind me at the start, as we pretended to be strangers. He looked over my shoulder and whispered in my ear how he loved the way my breasts filled my blouse. I felt his hands reach down and fondle me. He pealed my blouse open so the flickering light of the movie screen danced on my bare breasts. Then he seduced me as if we were total strangers. He fingered me and then I sucked his cock. I have never felt so alive!

I looked up at Marsha. Her face was glowing. After a moment, she pierced the silence with a question I will never forget. "Kathleen, do you know where I was on July SEVENTEENTH?" I shook my head no. I had suffered too many shockwave concussions to be able to answer even the most simple question at that point. 

"Where?"

"The same theater. Watching the same movie. Sucking the same, fucking, married cock. And as I read that and realized it all, I sat down on Jenny's bed and let my mind go back to that night. I felt his seduction. The danger. The arousal. And I let myself go, fingering myself until I made myself cum right there on her bed."

She stopped. She knew I could only digest so much. 

The words stumbled out of my mouth. "He doesn't know that you know, right? I mean, about him and Jen?" 

"That's the wrong question, Kathleen." 

"Huh?"

"That's the wrong question. There is something worse." There was that word again! I was ready to curse at her as I braced for, for, for ,,, whatever the fuck was coming!

"There is a worse question." Marsha paused for dramatic effect, then continued. "You could ask, does Jen know about me and Brian?" 

"Does SHE?!" 

Marsha nodded yes. "I could not get that smoldering image out of my mind of how Brian seduced me in the theater. Then as I read what Jenny wrote, I relived it again as I laid on her bed as it made me cum. Then, after finishing the laundry, I returned to her room and grabbed her diary. I went downstairs and out to the patio. I read that July 18 entry again as I relived those moments. I read and fingered. I was utterly lost in the moment. So much so, I never heard Jenny come home on her lunch to pick up some homework she had forgotten on the kitchen table."

Marsha paused... again I gasped. She continued. "Yes, she saw me. She saw the diary. She CAUGHT me in the act."

As I listened to Marsha, I reread that July 18 entry. I bounced between the visions of Brian seducing them the way he did, so detailed by Jen's own diary account, and the sight of Jen seeing her mom sexually aroused and fingering herself to the stimulating secrets she was reading in that diary! 

What happened next there on my couch between Marsha and I was diary worthy... and definitely would fit the "and it gets worse" rhythm of that morning. Somehow Brian's seductive powers were far-reaching, casting his spell over even me. 

As I reread July 18 yet again, this time aloud, Marsha slid her hand down her sweats. I felt my hand slide inside my shorts. And there on my couch, Brian triggered sexual pleasures in two women yet again. 

I don't remember exactly how many times I read that entry, or how exactly Marsha and I ended up naked on my couch. But I do remember being startled as the clock struck noon. Just as we both were on the edge of a lesbian discovery session that would be a first for both of us, I realized we had to put things on hold. My hubby was due home for lunch at any moment. 

We had to stop... things could get worse! 



Average Wifey Files #08



Sometimes, as much as we love our hubbies, many of us can be completely clueless as to the naughty thoughts secretly banging around in those minds of theirs. I certainly was confronted with this reality recently.

For a birthday present a few years ago, Michael purchased a massage table for me. It came with a homemade coupon book he had created on the computer, complete with a year's worth of "free weekly massage" tickets. 

We set the table up in what we refer to as the "Pool Room" in our home. It is a huge room toward the back of our house located just off the swimming pool and spa. It doubles as both a convenient changing room for swimming (including it's own bathroom) and as Michael's "man cave" complete with the furnishings and big screen TV needed for such a hangout. 

For almost three years, I had enjoyed being spoiled by his massages. Although he had no formal training, he had the gift. He knew how to find those points of tension and work my muscles into submission. By the time he would finish, my body was a relaxed heap of flesh soaked in baby oil. 

Of course there were times when the massage went beyond simple muscle therapy and into the erotic pleasures of foreplay and love-making. His firm hands sliding over my naked body glistening with baby oil was arousing for us both. I always looked forward to the massages that went "overtime."

But, it was a particular massage recently that would redefine "arousal" and "overtime" for me. 

Michael started the massage as he always did, soothing my skin with a generous layer of baby oil. As I laid naked on the table, face down, I could feel the oil penetrating my skin as he pressed his hands against my flesh; my neck, my shoulders, my arms, my hands, my back, my ass, my legs, my feet. It felt as good as any other massage he had given me.

About 15 minutes into the massage, as he stood at the head of the table, leaning into my shoulders which meant his cock was pressing against my head, through the donut hole in the head rest I spied his shorts falling to his ankles as he stepped out of them. I knew what that meant. It meant he was naked. That he was aroused. That I would soon be treated to at the very least a slippery finger fuck.

As he moved to the side of the table, I felt his hands center their attention on my ass and the back of my thighs. He started at the back of my knee, pressing as he slid his hand firmly up the back of my thigh and then greedily into the flesh of my ass. Then he repeated that on my other leg. Back and forth he went, one leg then the other. With each new trail, he edged lower and lower along my inner thighs.

As he continued those long, sensual, strokes up my legs, I submitted to the pressure of his hands that incrementally guided my legs to spread further and further apart. A random pause here and there hinted to me that he was enjoying the view that he had. My ass glistening and firm. My bare pussy mound visible between my legs. I could feel it dripping an erotic mixture of baby oil and my own pussy nectar.

But, as I continued to lay face down and enjoy the attention and pleasure, I had no idea what naughtiness Michael had merged with my massage. Unknown to me, thanks to a timely text message from Michael and a door left cracked open, our neighbor, Jeff had snuck into the room. He was seated on the couch positioned at the rear of the table, where my feet were. 

Michael ran his thumb deep up my inner thigh flesh... then slowed to a snails crawl as he pressed his palm along the lower edge of my ass cheek and wriggled his thumb along the fleshy fold of my pussy. I lightly lifted my hips just an inch or so from the table to signal to him that I was anxious to accept his finger inside of me.

Jeff, silent and invisible to me, sat and watched the show. His position allowed his eyes to look straight up between my legs to my exposed pussy. As Michael snaked his finger between my folds, he made sure to give Jeff a clear view. Jeff began to quietly slide his shorts and tee-shirt off, leaving him naked and hard on the couch.

Michael slowly retraced his trail from my inner thigh to my pussy several more times, each time sinking his thumb slightly deeper between my folds. Then he moved to the other side of me as he normally did, giving one hand a rest as he used the other.

Jeff smiled as Michael's eyes and his met with a knowing nod. Without even a hint that might tip me off, Jeff moved to my side as Michael stepped back... they traded places without me having any idea what was going on!

I felt the pressure of oil soaked fingers worming between my folds with an expert touch as I again lifted my hips up, receiving his finger. I felt my slippery folds squirming between his thumb and middle finger as he squeezed my flesh. I heard the crackling sounds of oil and my juices squishing between his fingers and my pussy lips. I let out a soft moan, quietly affirmed by Michael's soft voice, "sooo good, baby."

Jeff fingered me over and over again. Eventually sliding three fingers along my pussy and then up over my asshole. I had absolutely no idea it was not Michael. As Jeff leaned into me, I could feel his cock pressed against my ass and thighs, aroused by the thought of how I loved it when my hubby was so hard because of me.

My married body soaked up every stroke. My pussy quivered as it spread wide open to receive the finger fucking it so craved. I felt his firm hand reach between my legs and slide under my pussy, cupping my full mound with such a greedy squeeze that I thought my entire pussy might be swallowed up by the palm of his hand!

I edged closer to orgasm as I felt his second hand working over my asshole while the other drove my pussy crazy. 

Michael stood right next to Jeff, his hands so oily. As Jeff pleasured me, Michael stroked his own cock, aiming it at my ass. Jeff kept his one hand pumping my pussy from behind as he slid his other hand to his own cock. He was stroking too. 

Michael softly said to me, "I want to cum on your ass as you cum, baby. Let's do it together." I heard his voice. But I did not see the naughty smile exchanged between he and Jeff. I had no idea what the full meaning of "LET'S do it TOGETHER" actually meant!

Moments later, sharing our little pet phrase that signaled my orgasm was about to erupt I moaned, "Oh Michael, I am your hot little fuck!" And with that, I felt the splatter of warm cum spurting onto my ass just as those fingers ushered my pussy to an explosive orgasmic eruption!

I laid prone, naked and face-down with cum dripping down over my asshole and pussy as my body quivered the last few ripples of orgasm. As I melted back into the table, Jeff slipped away from the table, cum dangling from his cock, and quietly picked up his shorts and tee. Michael stood alone at my side. 

Jeff slipped out the door, secretly smiling as he took one last look at my naked body, his cum still seeping between my legs. 

Michael smiled as he admired my cum covered ass.

Jeff knew.

Michael knew.

My day was yet to come...



Average Wifey Files #09



Our five day anniversary trip to Disneyland had gotten off to quite a start, thanks to hubby's surprise move of dressing me in my teen daughter's short, pink shorts and low-cut V-neck teeshirt. By the time we returned to our room that first night after the evening fireworks show, Michael and I had enjoyed a roller coaster ride of arousal for the past few hours. As we waited for the elevator in the hotel lobby, my outfit was still drawing as much attention as when we had left the hotel hours earlier.

As we rode the elevator up to our 4th floor room, we quietly shared the ride with a family. Michael was so horny he could not keep his hands off my ass, sliding his hand up under the low hanging hem of my tee. The doors opened at the 3rd floor and the family exited. As soon as the doors shut, Michael punched the red, STOP button. 

As he turned around with a sly smile on his face, I fully expected him to push my limits even further and suggest we fuck right there in the elevator. I felt my nipples hard and aroused, poking against the soft cotton of my tee. I was so aroused after spending hours being eyed by so many naughty eyes as I pranced around the park in my outfit that really was inappropriate for me to wear. Michael snuggled up to me, leaned in and kissed me. Then he whispered, "Soon, my hot little fuck." Then shockingly he returned the elevator to service. The doors opened on our floor and we exited, my breath rapid and short as my mind raced in excitement with what lied ahead.

Although my 36c breasts had been braless all evening, there was a feeling of utter delight as our room door shut behind us and I was able to pull my tee off. Before I could wriggle free of my shorts, Michael cupped my breast and sucked my big, light, pink nipple. He was still fully dressed. After sucking either nipple for a few brief moments, he pulled away and looked again at me with that sly smile. "Soon, my hot little fuck."

The playful delay was absolutely riveting! I wanted to fuck Michael so bad. I had been his sexual plaything for hours, but shackled by the restraints of public decency. He had naughtily displayed me. He had secretly fingered me. He had used the long waits in line to repeatedly arouse me with his discreet touches and rubbing and nuzzles and naughty comments whispered in my ear. I was so ready!

He moved to the sliding glass door and opened it, beckoning me to join him on the balcony. As we stepped out, I nearly forgot that I was topless! I quickly snuggle-hugged him and pressed my bare breasts against his chest as we stood there, gazing down at the hotel pool positioned just beyond the lush garden growing between our room and the pool location. Although it was past curfew, there were a few adults scattered in the heated pool and Jacuzzi. As we stood there with our bodies melting together, he kneaded my ass cheeks through the thin fabric of my shorts. Then he softly said, "I bet these shorts would work in the pool too."

I shivered, but not because of the cool, California evening air. I shivered as I saw the lust in Michael's eyes as he thought of my light pink shorts, already appearing to be painted on me, hugging me even tighter as the pool water soaked them. I was completely under his spell by this point. I nodded compliantly, asking him "what about a top?" 

He leaned back as his arms disengaged me from his body and looked down at my breasts like a teenage boy looking at porn for the first time. "I am glad you asked." He took my hand and led me back inside the room, my nearly naked body in view for anyone snoopy and daring enough to be focused on our balcony. I really didn't care at that point.

Reaching into his duffle bag, Michael pulled out something and asked me, "How will this do?" Another shock to my system as I looked at our daughter's VERY skimpy bikini top in his hand, the one we only let her wear in the privacy of our home and pool. I was quickly recognizing a naughty theme in Michael's choices of clothing for me. 

Although my daughter and I are the same height, 5-5, our measurements are slightly different. She is a 34-26-34c whereas I am 34-26-36c. As I wriggled to fit in her little top, I shook my head at the thought we allowed her to wear this thing at all! Michael quickly slipped into his swim trunks. I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around me, tucked under my armpits. 

I was covered under my towel, but I felt naked. What was even a naughtier thought was that as Michael looked at me, he knew I not only felt naked, but he also knew that I was dressed like our daughter. His taboo fantasy was often lurking just under the surface. 

As we stepped through the safety gate into the pool patio area, I felt the dampness of my hours-long arousal still sticky in my shorts. Stepping into the pool would soon change that. Although I was intoxicated with sexual desire and enjoyed this form of forbidden foreplay, I was still a bit cautious as I slid my towel off and moved to the edge of the shallow end of the pool. 

Again I felt the eyes of strangers, just the few lingering in and around the pool/Jacuzzi at this late hour, surveying my body. I lowered my foot to the first shallow step, water rising to my ankles as eyes moved over my body. I moved to the next step, the waterline up to my knees as they nearly buckled as I caught a glimpse out of the corner of my eye of a man pointing his cellphone at me. 

As I lowered my body off the last step and waded into the water, I felt the surface of the water bobbing against my breasts which overfilled the undersized bikini top. I dipped my knees so that only my head was above the surface. Then I stood erect again. I felt the wet fabric clinging to my breasts and almost screaming the dimensions of my nipples by failing to cover the upper edges while equally inadequate at reaching the lower curve of my breasts. 

I could only wade and carefully float on my back. One false move and my breasts would be quickly exposed by a top that was entirely too small for me. But Michael's affirming smile urged me to relax. As I floated on my back toward him, my legs and arms moved like angel wings as I enjoyed the cool current of water flowing across my overheated pussy. I felt so alive! 

Michael scooped his arms under my back and ass as I floated in front of him. As his eyes gleamed at the sight of my body so much on display, he discreetly said to me, "Look at the couple sitting in the shadows over there." As he gently lowered my legs allowing me to stand, I cautiously glanced in the direction of the couple. I strained to see them, but my eyes were not adjusted to the dark corner of the patio. 

I looked back at Michael and shook my head as if to say, "I don't see it." 

He whispered to me, "The minute that guy saw you floating he began fingering her. You have them both hot, baby." He pulled me close to him, our bodies again pressed together just like they were on the balcony, and he said, "Soon, my hot little fuck."

As we waded through the shallow end towards the steps, I knew this would be the moment of truth. My breasts were nearly busting out of my top. My shorts were about to appear not only tight, but form-revealing wet. My smooth, married pussy made the imprint of a cameltoe so pronounced as I stepped out of the water it was as if the shorts were my flesh. 

As Michael stepped out of the water after me, I smiled at the view of his wet trunks hugging the long, thick shaft of his erect cock. We were quite the pair for sure! I reached for my towel, but Michael said, "uh-uh." Taking me by the hand, he led me wet and dripping right past the dark corner where that man was fingering his wife. I didn't look at them, but I did hear both a soft, feminine moan in harmony with a masculine gasp and groan. 

Michael opened the security gate, took my hand and as multiple sets of strangers' eyes followed my every step he said, "Soon, my hot little fuck." 



Average Wifey Files #10



It was a little before midnight when I rolled over and noticed that Michael had not yet come to bed. His college football passion often had him up late into the night on fall Saturdays. By the time he watched the end of the last game and the sports news that followed, it was not uncommon for him to finally come to bed in the wee hours of the morning.

I laid awake for a few minutes, then decided to get up and go to the kitchen for a glass of water. I grabbed my robe and curled it over my naked body as I wobbled down the hallway. As I approached the kitchen, I glanced toward the family room, fully expecting to see Michael on the couch watching the TV, if not asleep. The TV was on, but Michael was not on the couch. I continued to the kitchen, figuring he was probably in the bathroom.

As I walked barefoot across the kitchen floor, my robe hung from my shoulders like a cape, split wide open in front. Modesty was not a concern at this time of the night, in the dark, in the privacy of my own home, on what I figured to be a brief trip for a drink of water. 

Just before I reached to open the cupboard door, I heard a familiar, faint creak that Michael's desk chair sometimes made when he rocked back in it. Although sleepy-eyed and fuzzy-headed, I still had enough clarity of thought to wonder why he was at his desk at such a late hour. I pivoted softly and stepped toward the family room. The TV was on the sports channel, flickering light throughout the room. Some of the light splashed on me, reminding me that my robe was hanging wide open in front. Instinctively, I pulled it closed over my breasts as I moved towards Michael's office which was off to the side of the family room.

Before I could see through the open archway to his office, I heard another familiar sound; the tapping of fingers on a computer keyboard. I felt a tinge of curiosity, perhaps even a hint of suspicion, wondering what he was typing. I slipped into stealth mode, slinking to the threshold of his office. I peaked in to see him sitting in his chair with his back to me. The computer was in front of him, the glow of the monitor outlining his head and shoulders. I tip-toed closer. 

As my eyes adjusted and I moved to within just a few feet behind him, I noticed that he was not wearing a short. That was odd. He typed, then leaned back in his chair, that telltale creak chirping again. With him leaning back, I could see over his shoulder to the computer monitor. It was a moment in time I will not soon forget.

On one side of the screen was a window with nothing but text in it. I immediately recognized it as a messenger chat window. On the other side of the screen was a pornographic picture that stunned me. It was not just porn, it was filthy porn. It showed some woman sitting on a cock while sucking a cock while not one but two other men stood naked on either side of her with their cocks near her face. I could not believe my eyes! 

I stood frozen, both in posture and in thought. Should I quietly back out of the room? Should I tap him on the shoulder and confront him? 

Before I could read my inner compass, Michael leaned forward again, blocking some of my view. Again, I heard that finger-tapping sound on the keyboard. I carefully snuck a step closer, allowing me to peak over his shoulder. I watched as the words formed on the screen... 

Oh yeah... would love to see her just like that

I wondered who "her" was. Before I could process anything else, his chat partner who went by the name of "PussyLover" replied...

nothing hotter than seeing the wife getting her holes filled, eh buddy?

OMG! Did he just say "wife"?! Michael's fingers tapped back...

mmmm... her bare pussy filled with the neighbor's cock,,, her mouth with his son's cock... her big blue eyes admiring the other two strangers waiting their turns

I could not believe I was reading something so naughty that Michael could think, let alone share with somebody else! "Pussylover" shot back...

I bet she is a hottie

Michael tapped back...

Sweet MILF for sure! About 5-5... 140ish... red hair... blue eyes... 36c tits with huge, pink nipples

I shivered as I read his description of me, sharing it with this cyber stranger. "Pussylover" then replied...

ohhh fuck! she sounds hot! if you ever want to share her, I am all in!

Michael quickly shot back...

mmmm, you have no idea how many times I have dreamed about it... watching her creamy white body squeezed between me as I fuck her pussy and another cock nailing her from behind

"Pussylover" sent a link to some video along with the comment...

watch this with me... we can pretend it is your wife. what is her name?

I watched as Michael clicked on the link and the video window popped up next to the chat box where he simply and incredibly typed just one word...

Kathleen

After reading his description of me, I now was staring at my name as Michael started the video. As it started, he leaned back in his chair for the first time since I had moved so close behind him. I could now see over his shoulder. He was not just shirtless, he was naked! As he looked at the screen, his hand slid down to his semi-erect cock. "Pussylover" typed...

There she is buddy. The MILF on the left

I looked at the vid, seeing two woman laying out topless by a pool. The one on the left was a red head with breasts much bigger than mine. Michael reached up with one hand and tapped back...

mmmm yesss

The vid zoomed in on the redhead, as "Pussylover" queried...

I bet Kathleen's tits are that good,,, would love to suck them for you!

Michael replied...

Kathleen's are even better. you could suck them while my neighbor friend fucks her!

I was flattered... furious... flustered... flabbergasted... as I read the chat between "Pussylover" and Michael using me as their fucktoy! 

Michael reached down and stroked harder as the video showed the busty redhead spreading wide open for the poolboy. Although I thought she looked nothing like me, Michael enjoyed playing along with his cyber friend who typed...

oh fuck... so close here!

Michael shot right back...

me too!

I stood and watched as Michael leaned back and stroked his now very hard cock faster and faster. I lost track of the screen as I watched him finally shoot a big load of cum on his stomach. He actually moaned softly, "oh fuck, Kathleen" as his spurts of cum splattered on his flesh.

I stepped back quietly, inching back toward the archway. By the time I reached the threshold, my robe slid over my shoulders as I reached behind my back to catch it before it fell to the floor. I slithered around the corner, naked and shivering, aroused by the combination of the images of that redhead next to the pool and Michael stroking to naughty thoughts of me,,, ABOUT me.

As I slid back into bed, my naked body felt oddly aroused. It was as if I had been both violated and seduced. I laid on my back staring at the ceiling, my mind racing back through the images of that vid and the content of those messages between Michael and "Pussylover". 

A few minutes later I heard Michael step into the bedroom. I closed my eyes as if I were asleep. After he crawled into bed, I pretended to stir as I rolled over towards him. I made sure to fit my pussy up against his ass as I wrapped my arm around his waist. 

Moments later he was asleep. I felt a little drop of postcum drip on my finger resting near his cock. I squirmed a little closer to make sure my moist pussy was snug against him as I whispered "sweet dreams". I wasn't sure who I meant that for, him or me.

"He has no idea what I know" I thought to myself. "This could be fun." I drifted off in the afterglow of the experience. Sweet dreams indeed!



Average Wifey Files #11



It started as a crazy thought for a valentine's day surprise for hubby. I thought it would be fun to send him a naughty self-pic via email with a seductive comment. I had no idea how it would get out of control.

I stood in front of the mirror in our bedroom, wearing only one of Michael's favorite nighties for me, as I tried to strike a pose that I could be proud of. Standing with my iPhone in hand, I was prepared to take a photo when the angle was just right. 

I felt excited. I had never done something like this before. I was shivering, even as the sunlight was streaking through the window blinds, creating a delicious back light that pierced my nightie and traced a silhouette of my breasts that made me look even better than I really was! I smiled, held my iPhone still and ~CLICK~.

I turned my back to the mirror, spreading my legs in a-frame fashion, allowing the sunburst to lick my body and spray an incredible vision in the mirror; a detailed outline of my bare pussy mound bulging between my legs. ~CLICK~

I turned around to face the mirror and arched my back. I felt my nightie inch up my upper thighs as my breasts pressed against the see-through fabric. My large, light, pink nipples were clearly outlined. ~CLICK~

After a few other poses, ultimately showing off my breasts with obviously aroused nipples as well as my bare pussy, I laid down on the bed and began reviewing my naughty self-pics. As I flipped through about 20 or so photos, I was drawn to one that had somehow made me look WAY better than I deserved. The combination of the angle of the sunlight and the iPhone had managed to not only highlight my curves, but gave me a perky look from years ago! The only problem was that I cut off my head in that pic.

As I admired it, I thought to myself that Michael might not even believe that is me! I had pulled the nightie up so high that it was bunched up just under my chin, making it impossible to identify as his favorite. I had taken the pic with my left arm stretched out to my side out of sight, thus no wedding ring he could identify. 

At first I strayed to the thought of sending him the pic in an email with the naughty, simple comment, "Guess who?" Of course he would know it was a picture of me, coming in an email from my personal email account. That's when the next level of thought emerged, a dangerous one. What if I sent it from an email account he did not recognize? I had just such a thing, an account I had created for a chatroom that I never used. It was still on my iPhone.

I giggled to myself as I composed an email with that naughty image and comment. Little did I know that email would soon set into motion a series of exchanges between Michael and I that would both arouse and shock me.

I expected Michael to see that picture and with perhaps an extra look or two, quickly know it was me. I thought he would appreciate the naughty, yet playful way I choose to email it to him. I expected him come home horny asking for some private time with his new favorite model! My only apprehension was that he might be tempted to show it to one of his buddies. But I was certain that he knew better than that.

Well, a few hours later he arrived home. My pent up anticipation was met with disappointment when both his initial greeting and follow-up discourse showed no hint of what I had been looking forward to. I inwardly fought off feelings of rejection by telling myself, "he has been busy and did not get to it yet... be patient!"

After dinner, I smiled and announced that I was going to take a bath. He politely nodded and said "okay" as he barely took his eyes off of the TV. My heart sunk as he failed to even nibble at the bait.

As I fought off another wave of feeling rejected, I walked to the bedroom. I slipped out of my jeans and top. As I wriggled out of my panties and bra, I caught a glimpse of my naked body in the mirror. I shook my head and muttered, "Who am I kidding?" 

As I slipped into the warm water, I set my phone on a towel within reach as I always did when taking a bath. I submerged my body until only my head was above the surface. I closed my eyes. Moments later, I heard the unique and almost forgotten tone my iPhone made when a new email arrived in the mailbox of that unused email account. 

My heart raced! Suddenly the pendulum of my heart swung hard and wide away from those feelings of rejection and towards excitement as I knew that alert had to signal a reply from Michael! I thought I had better read his reply immediately, thinking he might walk in on my bath, horny and eager to play.

I dried my hand on the towel, picked up my phone and looked. YES! In my inbox was a reply from Michael to my email! I quickly opened it. What I read seemed to me at first to be playful and coy.

"OMG. You are hot! Who is this?"

That was it. I smiled as my mind interpreted his message as a compliment to my very flattering self-pic that had clumsily risen only to my neckline. I waited a few minutes. I continued to soak alone in the water. I felt my pussy begin to tingle as I noticed my nipples getting so hard. I was definitely feeling aroused.

I grabbed my phone again, opened the email, and hit REPLY. I eagerly typed, "This is the body that has been craving yours for so long. Come and get me!" As I hit SEND, I felt a ripple of desire pulse through my body. This was so fun!

Then something happened to my fun. Just a few minutes later, my phone again alerted me to an incoming email from Michael. As I read it, my mind went from light-headed arousal to dazed denial. "You do know that I am married, right? I don't have plans to cheat, but for now, can I see more of you?"

I read it again. And then a third time. It took some mental gymnastics to grasp what those words that I had just read really meant. He really did not know it was me! I then read that phrase over and over again. "I don't have plans to cheat, but..." His noble restraint was entirely overshadowed by that "BUT". 

I became angry. Mocking him in my mind as I replayed his reply in my mind with my own twist of commentary. "Sorry, at this moment I don't have plans to cheat, but I would love to see more of your naked body!" 

Impulsively in anger, not the mood one should ever type out and send an email, I hit REPLY. In that first micro-moment I was going to express my anger with a few choice words. Then, from some secret corner of naughtiness buried deep in my inner consciousness came a very different thought. It was as if a little devil was sitting on my shoulder whispering in my ear, "Just how far do you think he would take this?"

My finger trembled as I tapped out words that surprised me. "What do you want to see?" Those simple words showed no hint of the disdain his wife had for his horny query. Before giving myself time to reconsider, I hit SEND.

I was alone and naked in the tub. He was alone with a hardon on the couch. The bounce of our emails now approached the pace of texting. Less than two minutes later, his reply hit my phone.

"More of that fucking hot pussy please!"

That horny bastard! Before I could gather my thoughts, that little devil whispered again in my ear, "Do it. Give him a good view. He won't know it is you if you zoom in for a closeup. You want to know how far he will take this, right?" 

That little devil was making more and more sense. I stood up and stepped out of the tub. I dabbed myself dry. I stood facing the sink and mirror. With my right leg extended, I lifted my right foot up and rested it on the counter. I hopped on my left foot lightly so that I positioned myself just right. The angle of the mirror... the zoom focus of my iPhone... my pussy spread wide open... ~CLICK~. 

Under the fresh self-pic of my exposed pussy I typed, "How is this?" Then I hit SEND. I stood there naked and fuming. 

Barely a minute passed. His reply arrived. "WOW!!! I hope you do not mind me saying, that is a very sexy and fuckable pussy! I will be thinking of that when I fuck wifey tonight."

I shook my head. "Yeah right. Like you are going to get any tonight!" 

But even as I taunted him under my breath, that little devil had already begun whispering in my ear. "Tell him to eat his wifey's pussy like he would like to eat yours." That damn little devil was making sense with his double talk! 

I hit REPLY. I typed, "Here's an idea. Before you fuck her, lick her pussy just the way you would do mine, thinking of me. Okay?" I hit SEND. 

Sure enough, his reply was immediate and affirmative. "Count on it! If it turns you on, picture me doing it in about 15 minutes, because I am gonna go take her now! You have made me so horny!" 

I realized he would soon approach. I pulled the plug on the tub. As the water drained, I slid into my nighttime shorts and tee. I took a deep breath. On the other side of that door awaiting me was an amazing twist of irony I would never have thought possible just an hour ago. Up until then, I was craving a horny Michael eager to fuck me thanks in part to self-pics I emailed him. Now, I was angered at a horny Michael eager to fuck me thanks in part to self-pics I emailed him. 

I had no idea what I was going to do. Then that little devil on my shoulder spoke up again. "Go with it Kathleen. This could be the start of something really good!" I shuddered. My mind was not devious enough to envision the possibilities; at least not yet.



Average Wifey Files #12



Hubby and I had been having a running argument spread over a few days. His position was that men always see something sexual when looking at a woman. I countered with the typical naïve perspective on this topic that most women possess. We bounced in and out of the debate while we were away for the weekend, enjoying a break from the hectic pace of life. 

We loved our second home at the coast. It was our place of refuge. It was also a place where we often enjoyed the freedoms that accompany being far enough away from home that you are anonymous to everyone around you. We felt at liberty to be more relaxed, easy-going and less inhibited about things with which we normally would be more guarded around folks who knew us. 

So, when Michael asked if I wanted to go for a walk along the beach, I immediately walked to the door and said, "let's go!" I was wearing a thin pair of shorts and a cute, little, white tank top. Back home, I would have changed into something a bit more modest before taking a walk in public. But here in our enchanted land of anonymity, I had different boundaries.

Hand in hand we headed out the back door towards the water. The coastal sands ran up to the back patio deck of our place, spanning a few hundred yards between ocean and patio deck. We politely nodded at a surfer headed in the opposite direction as we strolled toward the water. Before our bare feet had even made it to the edge of the foamy water riding the waves, Michael returned to our debate.

"Did you see the way he looked at you?"

"Who?" I asked, like I didn't know he was referring to the surfer.

"You know who" he sparred back at me. "That surfer."

"The way he looked at me?" I was playing somewhat dumb. "Hmmm. Seems he looked at me AND you with a quiet smile and nod, right?" In a court of law, I suppose my question would have been met with an objection for being both argumentative and leading.

"Yeah, right Kathleen. He smiled and nodded alright. But his eyes, did you see the way he looked at you? I am telling you, his mind was undressing you."

As we walked hand in hand splashing in the ankle deep water, we continued our debate. I defended the dignity of the surfer. Michael detailed his projections of what the surfer might be thinking.

Still holding my hand, he lifted his up to brush my breast at his side as he said, "I guarantee he was picturing what these look like," the back of his hand teasing me with a quick sweeping motion.

"Oh Michael" I objected. 

"Seriously baby. By the time he passed us, I bet his mind was already using that set of formulas all men have tucked away in their minds to calculate the dimensions of your nipples." He paused and then said, "Of course, I can't blame him."

I smiled at his stroke of affirmation and squeezed his hand. This was often where the debate would slow and come to a stop. Michael would inevitably say something that made me feel desired and adored by him. In such cases, my resolve to argue my position would quickly melt away. He let go of my hand so he could put his arm around me, snugging his hip against mine as we walked on.

After a few moments of soft chatter about the water and breeze, a young couple slowly approached from the opposite direction. They too were on a walk, hand in hand. The custom was to make casual eye-contact with others, perhaps just nodding or sometimes actually saying "hi" in passing. I nodded. Michael said "hi." They both smiled and silently nodded back as they moved past us. 

Michael quickly chuckled, "He just ran some calculus on your breasts, babe." It was yet another exhibit in his ongoing argument. I just giggled and let it go. Inwardly I had to agree that my 36c breasts were thinly veiled under my tank top thanks to the breeze blowing in my face. My large, light, pink nipples were more pronounced than usual thanks to Michael's flattering commentary and the coolness of the damp breeze. 

As we reached the pier, we walked out over the weathered, wooden planks and settled at about the midway point above where the waves were swelling and breaking against the pylon supports beneath us. We enjoyed the view of the ocean. We also enjoyed just watching the people. As I stood snuggled up against him, Michael asked me, "See that guy leaning against the light post over there?"

I glanced in the direction Michael had discreetly motioned. I saw him. "Yes."

"Watch him closely, Kathleen." As I watched him, Michael started providing me a running commentary of what he projected the stranger's mind to be thinking as he watched the foot traffic on the pier. I just listened as Michael bounced from one observation to the next, as if I were listening in on the secret thoughts of this stranger.

...aimed at a college aged girl... 

"nice tits, too bad she is wearing a bra, would love to see a bit more jiggle"

...aimed at a mom pushing a stroller...

"mmmmm, talk about a nice MILF, would love to squeeze those milk-filled tits"

...aimed at a middle-aged couple...

"I wonder when the last time is they fucked"

...aimed at a group of giggling girls with cellphones peaking out of the back pockets of their tight shorts...

"would love to have a party line there, get something going with several tight little asses"

For a good ten minutes, Michael provided a non-stop flow of naughty thoughts. I was amazed at how easy he flowed from one image to the next. He was expertly making the point of his argument. His playful, out-of-character, uninhibited vocabulary really made it feel like I was listening to the thoughts of another man.

Finally, he stopped and whispered seductively in my ear, "Do you want to know what he is thinking about you?" The way he said it made me shiver. 

I murmured back, "mm hmmm." 

With a sultry tone he breathed a series of phrases in my ear, one after another, each expression of lust pushing up against the previous like the water swelling beneath us. 

..."Damn, what a fine piece of ass over there" was complimented by Michaels hand sliding over my hip and cupping my bottom.

..."And those tits, wow, wish I could see more"; Michael nuzzled forward so his eyes could leer down my top, I could feel his eyes slithering over my breasts.

..."Those shorts fit her good, I wonder how tight her pussy is"; as he hissed that final 's' he followed with his tongue flicking at my ear, which he knew drove me crazy!

..."Would love to just walk over there and give her a big, wet kiss"; Michael nuzzled forward again, this time our lips touched as he kissed me lightly, followed by a heavy, tongue-probing kiss that included both his hands cupping my bottom on either side.

..."I bet she is a great cock sucker"; he slid his tongue in my mouth and held it still, I followed his lead and eagerly began sucking his tongue.

A few comments and complimentary activities later, we were quickly on our way back to our place. Thankfully, the mix of our anonymity, lowered inhibitions and arousal made for a stimulating walk back. By the time we had reached the patio deck, Michael's hands had already managed to spend time slithering under my top and down the inside of my shorts. I had also gotten a good measure of just how big his cock had swollen under his shorts. 

As we reached the back door, Michael was close behind me, pressing his bulging shorts against the thin fabric of my shorts while reaching around with his hands up under my top and bra. As I fumbled to slide open the glass door, he rocked his hips in a fucking motion and whispered, "We better do it inside. That stranger on the pier might be watching. No telling what he would say if he saw me fucking you!"



Average Wifey Files #13



I love my hubby, but Michael is not perfect. One of his imperfections that had bothered me for years was knowing that when he was traveling for business, he often would have phone sex with random strangers. The toll charges left an undeniable trail of activity. 

Then I told my close friend Jen about it. I was venting to her, not really looking for her to solve my problem. But she is a smart girl and suggested something rather devious, yet delicious. "Wouldn't you love to try it?"

I nodded my head yes. "Wow, I honestly would." Then I changed to a wistful shake of my head and sighed, "but I don't think I could pull it off." 

"Oh Kathleen. You could do it! I could help you." Then Jen surprised me with her big-eyed confession, "I have experience."

"What?!" I shot at her.

"Um hmm" she hummed with a naughty smile. "Michael isn't the only one into phone sex."

"Oh my god... Dave too?" I wasn't so naïve as to think I was the only wife in the world with a hubby who did phone sex. But, Dave? Jen was cute as a button and a bundle of charm and personality. I couldn't believe it. "And you did this idea of yours?"

"Yep. And trust me, Kathleen, you have no idea how hot it is. Dave has only done it with me sense then!" The twinkle in her eye enticed me. The dramatic shimmy of her shoulders as if she were jiggling her breasts in a dirty dance inspired me.

"Okay Jen, let's do it!" We moved to my computer as she tutored me step by step.

"First, you need to create an email account that fits a phone sex identity." Jen laughed at the blank look on my face. "Try this: MILF4phone4U."

I laughed as I typed it out, requesting it. "Already taken? Wow." 

Jen laughed, "Oh my god, Kathleen! Of course it is... that's the addy that I registered!" We both laughed. As naughty as this plan was, I was actually having fun.

I took some initiative and said, "How about..." reading out loud as I typed "MILFphonefuck4U." I hit the ENTER key and instantly a message informed me that my choice was available. 

"You got it, girl!" Jen was just as excited as I was! I completed the registration process and became the proud owner of a brand new email account. Jen shook her head as she read it out loud, "MILFphonefuck4U... Damn Kathleen, yours is even more naughty sounding than mine is!"

"Okay, what's next?" I was definitely into it now.

"You need to get a google phone number. Make sure you choose a different area code from yours." A few mouse clicks later, I was selecting a phone number with an area code from another state. Jen grabbed her cellphone. "Let me call the number to see if it is working." 

My hand was trembling as I waded into this devious plan of deception. I held my iPhone, staring at the screen anxious to get her test call. Seconds later, my phone rang as the display announced an incoming call from Jen. "It works!" I blurted out. 

Jen smiled and said, "And now the moment of truth. You are ready to do this, right?"

I nodded. 

"Okay. Sign in to your new email account and let's compose an email." 

I typed in MILFphonefuck4U and then my password. A few clicks later my fingers were ready to compose an email. "Okay Jen, I am going to really need your help here."

She smiled, as she propped her elbows up on the desk and settled her chin into the palms of her hands. "Well. We need to compose an email that will be believable and irresistible. It has to grab him."

We worked on it for about fifteen minutes. Finally, we had a draft that was ready to go. I read it out loud one last time to get Jen's final affirmation.

------CONGRATULATIONS! You have been randomly selected to receive a free gift from MILFphonefuck4U! One of our dirty-talking girls is ready to take your phone call, by appointment only, to share in a conversation that we GUARANTEE will make you cum big time! To reserve your free appointment, you must reply to this email within three days. Then one of our girls will email you her name and phone number and schedule a time for you to call her. Remember, this first call is FREE!--------------

Jen smiled and said, "Oh Kathleen, that is good! Are you ready to send it?"

I felt very nervous. But, I was as ready as I would ever be. I pointed the mouse arrow and clicked on SEND. "There it goes!" Nervous? Yes. But so alive! 

Jen then continued in her tutor role. "Now. When he replies to the email, make sure you offer him appointment times to choose from that are when he can be alone and when you know that I can be there to be by your side when you take the call."

"Jen, this is so naughty! WE are so naughty!" 

Sure enough, just a few HOURS later Michael replied. Of course he absolutely no idea it was me behind the email offer. I gave him two choices for the next day that just so happened to fit his alone time in the hotel room and, of course, Jen's availability. He chose the 4pm time slot. I called Jen and excitedly shared the news with her.

"Oh Kathleen. It is happening! I can't wait! I will make sure I am at your house by 3pm at the latest. We will need to get your mind prepared for your appointment!" We both laughed. 

Then Jen got serious. "Kathleen, you do realize that even though I will do my best to coach you, it still comes down to you being naughty and believable, right? And if you pull it off, you will become his go to girl."

"Uh huh, I know that." My voice trembled as I thought about it. I was smack-dab in the middle of a deception aimed at tricking Michael into having phone sex with me as I pretended to be a total stranger. And if I executed the plan properly, I would get him hooked on me and off of any of the others he had tried. High risk, high reward.

The next day, just after 2pm, Jen arrived at my home. There was no small talk as she got right down to business. "What are you going to wear?"

"Wear?"

"You have to act the part, Kathleen! It's the only way you can keep track of the seduction you plan for him. Come on, let's go see what you have." We walked back to my bedroom. "Choose something that makes you feel very sexy." 

As I pulled open the drawer where I kept my slinky and sexy nightwear, Jen surprised me as she pulled her tank top off and then reached back to unclasp her bra. Before I could even pull out my favorites to choose from, she was topless as she wriggled out of her jeans. "What are you doing?" I asked her.

"Hey, this is on the job training. I told you I would be by your side. And that is exactly what I plan on doing!" Her bubbly personality was overpowering, even as she slid her panties down and sat down naked on the edge of my bed. I tried not to stare, but it was the first time I had seen her naked. It was quite a sight. 

Slightly dazed, I held up a pink nightie that I knew Michael loved and asked, "What do you think?"

She stood up and held the nightie against my me, eyeing how it would look. It was a tense moment for me. That Jen stood inches away from me totally naked just added more to the tension. "Does it make you feel sexy?"

"Michael loves it" I replied.

"But does it make YOU feel sexy?" She playfully pointed her finger at me to emphasize that word 'you' and then let it flitter down my neckline and brush over my breast.

"Yes, I feel sexy,,, I mean it makes me feel sexy." I was embarrassed over my flub. 

"Ok then. A pink nightie for Kathleen!" She held it in her hands, moved back to sit down on the edge of my bed and charmed me with her smile as she said, "Well?"

"Well what?" 

"Well, are you going to get undressed and put on your nightie?!" She giggled at my obvious lack of balance in the moment. 

I was so deep into this naughty pool of seduction and deceit, I was a bit overwhelmed and feeling confused. "Undressed... yes..." I muttered as I tried to clear my head. 

As I stripped, Jen moved to my drawer and delicately flipped through what was left. I felt so tense and aroused as I undressed, then slipped the pink nightie over my naked body. I turned to look at myself in the mirror. I immediately remembered why Michael loved this nightie. It left very little to the imagination! The form of my 36c breasts were hardly veiled. My freshly shaved pussy not only clearly showed through, but as I lifted my arms up, the lower edge rose to my hips, leaving my married pussy completely exposed.

The mirror not only reflected my image, but in the background was Jen. I could see her bent over as she looked through the drawer. I silently told myself, "Stop it Kathleen! This is about Michael! FOCUS." I had never felt such strong feelings towards Jen like this before. Of course, I had never seen her bent over naked with her pussy peaking between her legs either! I had to push those unexpected feelings aside if I was going to be successful in this phone call with Michael. 

"Oh, I like this one!" Jen held up an absolutely obscene little piece of lace and open fishnet that hung like a cape over her shoulders. "Where are the bottoms?"

I blushed as I said, "I lost them."

"Lost them?! Oh there has to be a good story behind that one! But we will have to get to that later. Time to prepare for your phone call!" Jen was even more energetic than normal. Her passion for this naughty plan was contagious. She bounced from the bedroom and down the hallway towards the living room, her shapely, naked ass leading me to follow her. 

Jen settled into a chair next to the couch. "You lay on the couch and try to relax now, Kathleen. Time to get your mind ready." I leaned back on the couch, feeling so vulnerable and exposed in my pink nightie. 

"Oops!" I said as I stood back up. "Almost forgot my phone!" I hurried to the bedroom and retrieved it. When I returned to the couch, Jen had turned the chair so that it was directly facing me on the couch.

She calmly reviewed the plan. "Now remember, he cannot know it is you. You want him to believe that you are horny to talk with him about his wife. Convince him that you love hearing a man cum to naughty fantasies of his wife." I nodded as I took a few cleansing breaths.

"And remember. If you feel lost or are not sure what to say, just give me the hand signal of your palm to the ceiling and I will try to give you a prompt to help you along. Brief pauses are not a problem. A loss of words is."

As 4pm approached, Jen continued giving me tips to help prepare me. She also sat in that chair casually displaying her body which also fueled the fire of my lust. It was an odd mix of nerves, visual stimulation and mental preparation that had my pussy plenty wet before Michael even called. 

Finally, the moment of truth arrived. My phone rang. Caller ID displayed it was Michael. I slipped into my sultry, sexy, disguised voice as I answered my phone on speaker, "Hello baby. You are right on time!"

His voice was hesitant at first, which Jen had told me might be the case. I settled his nerves by asking him what he did for a living. As I listened to him, it was like I was hearing a different side of him than I had ever heard. As I played the part of a stranger, I found myself listening more carefully to him than I usually did. 

"And you are a married man, right?" 

"Yes I am."

"Tell me about her." Jen rolled her hand at me directing me to go on... say more. I spoke again before Michael could reply. "Is she sexy, baby?"

"Wow... didn't think we would be talking about my wife!" There was a long pause.

I almost froze. Then Jen pointed at her breasts and then at mine. I nodded to let her know I understood. I gained my composure and said, "Well, tell me about her body. Does she have nice tits, baby?" 

As Michael softly moaned 'yes' Jen was straining to lick her own breast. She pointed and signaled again. I nodded and said to Michael, "I bet you love to suck them, don't you baby?"

I could sense Michael feeling more at ease as he answered, "Oh yes I do." Before I could reflect his comment back to him he quickly added, "and I bet you would love me to suck your tits too, baby."

I smiled as I moaned, "oh yes... I would love that baby. My nipples are big and pink. Very suckable."

Michael moaned, "mmm... sounds like my wife's nipples... light pink nipples the size of tennis balls." 

Jen licked her lips and smiled as she nodded and pointed at my breasts. My light, pink, tennis-ball sized nipples were feeling hard and aroused. I felt it. Jen saw it. Michael envisioned it as I prompted him to go further.

"Would be so hot to suck hers AND yours at the same time." As I listened to him moan, Jen silently got up from her chair and moved next to me. She reached down and lifted the bottom hem of my nightie up to fully expose my breast, leaned in and rubbed our breasts together. 

"Oh fuck yes, baby... our tits touching as you lick them both." My words were dripping with authentic passion and desire. 

"Yes. Bite her nipple, then yours. Back and forth." Jen licked her fingers and then used them to pinch my nipple and then her own. Back and forth, my nipple then her own. 

As I moaned Michael continued, "You would like that, wouldn't you baby? You want to feel my tongue all over you?" 

I nodded as I looked at Jen's mouth. She flapped her hand to signal me to talk. I was so lost in her attention I had briefly lost focus! I got back on track. "Michael, I want you to run your tongue along my neck..."

...Jen flicked her tongue along my chin and then my neck...

"And then along my tits." As Michael moaned, Jen followed my directions. 

"And now baby,,, lower." Jen moved in sync with my interactive exchanges with Michael. As she slithered her tongue lower, I moaned. 

Michael spoke, "Feels good, doesn't it?"

"Oh yes... don't stop!" 

With his voice growing in lust more and more, he said, "I am gonna lick those pussy folds of yours."

I whimpered aloud as Jen moved her tongue between my folds and took a long, greedy ride up my slit. "Oh fuck yes!" I nearly screamed.

Michael continued to banter with me, moving from fantasies of his tongue on my body and my mouth on his cock and ultimately his fucking my wet pussy. And Jen made it all seem so real, so intense, so unexpectedly forbidden. 

As Michael and I bounced our conversation between his desire for me and his wife, his lust exploded on my body on so many different levels. His mind on the body of who he thought was a stranger. His mind on MY body as he talked about me. And Jen amazingly shadowing his thoughts and words over my body making my own orgasm utterly real and unrehearsed. 

By the time the phone call came to an end, Michael had experienced a level of phone sex like never before as he mixed his fantasy image of the voice on the other end of the phone with the real images of his wife. Incredibly, deceitfully, successfully, , , I was BOTH!



Average Wifey Files #14



"Tension."

I laughed when my hubby gave that simple, one-word answer to Joan's question. 

Joan and her husband, Bill, were friends of ours. As we sat in the bar nibbling on appetizers waiting for a table, they were arguing... again. Sometimes their arguments were esoteric, sometimes boorish, occasionally enjoyable. 

The topic at hand originated when my dear, sweet Michael innocently commented that he thought waitresses who were friendly but slow to service probably received better tips than those who were better at service but unfriendly. That kind of statement was red meat to Joan and Bill. They immediately weighed in, taking opposing sides of course, as if the topic were critical to national security.

As most arguments go, the topic migrated from one point to another. Joan bumped it along challenging Michael with "so you prefer a flirty flunky to a reserved, but quality server?" 

Before Michael could even say a word, Bill jumped in. "No Joan. He never said flirty. He said friendly."

Joan rolled her eyes as she mockingly said, "Yeah right. Like you guys really don't want a flirty waitress." And just like that, Joan had managed to move the debate onto yet another point which certainly put Bill and Michael on the defense. 

Back and forth the three of them went, as I chose to sit this one out. I listened as the topic shifted from friendly to flirty to sexy to sex. When it arrived at 'what makes for great sex?' and Joan and Bill bantered away, Michael was quiet and pensive. 

The debate came to a temporary halt when we were called to our table. As we followed the hostess, zig-zagging our way towards our table, Michael discreetly patted my ass a few times, the final time included a firm cupping of my ass. I tensed up, concerned that anyone sitting at the tables we were walking past who might be paying close enough attention to us would certainly see what he was doing. 

After we were seated at our table and drinks were served, Joan looked across the table at Michael and put him on the spot. "So Michael. What do you think? What makes for great sex?"

In less than a second, I felt his hand slide over my thigh and straight to the crease in the crotch of my jeans. Although it was all under the table, I was startled and of course tensed up a bit at the sudden, intimate touch of his hand. 

I don't think Joan ever sensed his delayed answer was timed with his wandering hand in my lap as he paused before answering. Finally, as his middle finger wormed against the warm denim of my jeans, the only thing between my pussy and his finger, he smiled and gave his answer.

"Tension." I laughed at his simple, one-word answer. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism to deflect the tension I was feeling because of his finger against my pussy as we sat in a public place. Perhaps it was a nervous reaction or a guilty conscience. 

Joan and Bill also laughed. I tried to blend in with their reaction, although I knew they certainly were not reacting to the same stimulus that I was! 

Bill echoed Michael's answer. "Tension?" 

"Yeah, tension." Michael shrugged his shoulders as he spoke with a matter-of-fact tone of voice. He elaborated. "Great sex has an edge to it, an energy that is released after being pent-up. Could be risk. Could be adventure. Could be daring. Could be pushing the limits. Whatever the form, it is tension."

By the time he finished his commentary, he had deftly unbuttoned, halfway unzipped and delicately pealed open my jeans an inch or two. My hand slid over his, partly to protest, partly to permit.

Joan smiled with an affirming expression as she said, "Remember Maui, Bill?" 

His face instantly glowed as he chuckled "How could I forget?" He smiled at us and cryptically quipped, "LOTS of tension there on more than one occasion!"

All four of us laughed. Bill and Joan laughed at their inside joke. Michael laughed at the obvious double entendre. I laughed to disguise the increasingly naughty reality of Michael's finger slithering just over my clit. I was at the point where I was secretly wondering how I could keep this up. I wanted it. But it was crazy! 

Soon thereafter, the topic shifted yet again. With the new direction of debate, Michael stopped. I lost track of whatever they were debating as I reckoned with the challenge of pulling myself together as Michael slowly retraced his path and withdrew his hand. It was not easy zipping and buttoning back up without anyone knowing, but I somehow managed.

An hour later, dinner ended. We said our goodbyes as we walked to our cars. I was still wet. The moment we were in the privacy of our car I blurted out, "Michael! Oh my god!"

He laughed. "Did you enjoy that tension?"

As he pulled the car out of the parking lot, I pealed my jeans open, reached over, grabbed his hand and guided it to my moist panties. "What do you think?"

I giggled, "I think tension is a two way street, naughty boy." With that warning, I first moved his hand away from my body. Then I raised my ass up an inch or two so that I could slide my jeans and panties down to my knees. As his eyes darted back and forth trying to look at me while keeping an eye on the road in front of him, I teasingly said, "Better keep your eyes on the road, baby."

I then leaned towards him and returned the tension he had created under the table in the restaurant. I undid his belt. I unbuttoned, then unzipped his pants, pealing them back just the way he had done to me. Then I cupped his hard, warm, cock pressed against his jockey shorts. I gave it a squeeze. I teasingly asked, "Is somebody happy to see me?"

I had swiveled my body in the seat next to him in a way that made me feel shielded from any potential stray eyes in a vehicle that might cruise along side of us, allowing me to slide my jeans to my ankles and softly spread my legs a little bit. The dim glow of the instrument panel bathed my flesh in just enough light to give him a good view.

He moaned and said, "Oh Kathleen... very happy." 

I slid my fingers up the cotton fabric of his shorts along the firm edge of his cock until I reached the plump mushroom head. I gave it a squeeze, echoing how he had cupped my ass earlier as we walked to our table. "Mmm yes. You feel very happy."

The drive from the restaurant to our home was about 15 minutes. Fifteen minutes of tension. Fifteen minutes of seduction and teasing. Fifteen minutes of Michael shackled to the responsibilities of driving as his eyes ached to see more of me. 

The garage door opened. We pulled in and parked. The garage door closed. I had never given much thought to what sex might be like in the front seat of our car. If I had, I would definitely have not thought it was possible to have great sex there; and I would have been wrong. 

After we experienced that wonderful treat of Michael cumming inside of me in sync with my own orgasm, our sweaty and spent bodies sunk back into our separate seats. I am not exactly sure how we accomplished it, but both of us were naked. As I reached down to scoop up pieces of my clothing at my feet, I heaved a long, fulfilled, sigh of pleasure. 

Michael's head was leaning back against the headrest. He rolled it to the side to look at me. He smiled at me. He winked at me. He softly said three words that said it all. 

"Great fucking tension."



Average Wifey Files #15



I woke up tired. Michael had pushed my limits repeatedly throughout our first day at Disneyland. Of course, I was not complaining. How could I? He had put plenty of forethought into his plans for our arousal. Perhaps a bit edgy at moments, but highly effective. Our night finished with a fireworks show that Walt Disney himself would have admired.

I blinked my sleepy eyes and glanced at the clock next to the bed. The red LED lights read 8:14. I rolled over and snuggled my naked body up against Michael, feeling him warm and naked curled on his side with his back to me. He stirred as I wrapped my arm around him. His hand slid over mine and gave me a little squeeze. 

"Good morning" he croaked. I smiled to myself, hearing his tired voice reminded me how much energy he had spent on me over the past 24 hours.

I softly spoke in his ear, "Do you want to get breakfast? I think the hotel shuts things down at nine."

Michael groaned, "What time is it?" 

"Eight fourteen." 

"Wow. Somebody wore me out I think."

I giggled as I playfully pushed back, "I think somebody wore ME out." His hand squeezed mine again as I added, "Not that I am complaining."

After laying there for a few minutes, he patted my hand as he said "I guess we better get to breakfast so my sexy little Tinkerbelle doesn't waste away. We can eat and then come back up to the room to get our shower and plan out the day."

With that sweet and simple directive, I followed his lead and slipped out of bed. I went to the bathroom. Then I walked to the sink to brush my teeth as Michael went to the bathroom. Standing naked in front of the mirror, I quickly brushed my teeth. Michael smiled as he looked over my shoulder, watching how my breasts jiggled as my arm vigorously worked my toothbrush up and down. It always made me feel so good how he could find pleasure in me even in the simple, mundane moments. 

We both threw on our sweats and pulled hats over our wild hair and made our way to the dining room. I was hungry and the breakfast buffet looked so good. We filled our plates and found a table. As we chatted and enjoyed the leisurely pace of breakfast, Michael suddenly had a look of surprise on his face just as I felt a tap on my shoulder from behind. 

"Kathleen? Is that you?!" I immediately recognized the voice before even turning around in my chair. It was Brenda. One of the most nosey and annoying neighbors I had ever had to endure. She and her husband had moved, thankfully, about a year ago. "Oh my god, it IS you!"

I put on my best face and politely said, "Brenda. Well how are you?" I got up to give her a hug. Partly to be courteous, primarily because of her of yank on my arm pulling me out of my chair. 

As we hugged she beamed "I am doing great!" As I pulled out of our embrace, she said, "What a small world it is to find you two here!" She looked at Michael, still seated, and nearly sung a syrupy greeting at him. "Hello-o Michael."

"Hi Brenda" he said, substituting a friendly wave for a hug. 

"So what are you two doing here?"

Her simple question pained me as it struck that raw nerve of her nosiness that I still had not gotten over. I drudged up the shortest answer I felt I could get away with. "We are here for our anniversary."

"Oh really? Well congratulations you two! How many years, Michael?" She winked at me with a 'let's-see-if-he-remembers' glint.

"Not long enough" Michael said, purposefully refusing to play Brenda's game.

"Ah, how sweet!" Brenda glanced around the dining room and with her palms turned to the ceiling. "This is where you are celebrating your anniversary?"

Damn, I hated her snoopy, gossipy, in-everybody's-business probing. I wanted to tell her to quit pestering us. Michael intervened and said, "Actually, we are enjoying a few days at Disneyland." Before she could interrogate us further, Michael asked "And what are you doing here, Brenda?"

She blathered on about some real estate training seminar she was attending. The whole time she talked, she practically ignored me. She had always been flirty towards Michael, which was even more annoying than her nosey streak. What made things even more annoying at this moment was the obvious boob job she had done since we last had seen her. She was MUCH bigger, although it appeared that her sleeveless, V-neck top was so tight fitting that it probably was part of her pre-expansion wardrobe. 

Michael finally steered the conversation to an exit point for us. We got up and bid our polite goodbye. She made sure to give us BOTH a hug this time, making sure to press her altered boobs against Michael. 

As soon as we were out of her ear range, I said to Michael "I still don't like her."

He laughed and sarcastically jabbed at me. "You hid it so well, Kathleen." 

I quipped, "about as much as she hid those phony, big boobs." 

Michael smartly said, "I thought I noticed she looked a little bit bigger. I thought she had just gained some weight." He said it like it was a trivial observation that he could have easily overlooked. I knew better of course. Michael always had an eagle eye for breasts. We both knew it.

"You are such a liar! You noticed." I wasn't mad at him. He knew it. 

He smiled. "Yeah. She made sure of that."

My irritation at Brenda got the best of me in that moment as I snapped at Michael, "Do you want me to get a boob job like Brenda?"

"Oh come on, Kathleen. You know I think your tits are perfect." His arm around my waist and snuggly squeeze was timely. 

As we walked back into our room, I stepped out of my sweats and headed for the shower. Michael intercepted my naked body and faced me. He smiled and said, "Your tits are perfect, baby." He leaned down and softly kissed them with sweet tenderness. I soaked up his attention. 

He muttered one word at a time, fitting soft kisses between each syllable. "Do"... kiss ... "you" ... kiss ... "need" ... kiss ... "me" ... kiss ... "to" ... kiss ... "soap" ... kiss ... "them" ... kiss ... "up" ... kiss ... "for" ... kiss ... "you?"

As he kissed me over and over again, my irritation at Brenda was quickly melting away. As I gently ran my hand through his hair guiding his mouth to continue adoring me, I softly muttered "I thought you said they were perfect."

He smiled up at me as he erotically cradled my aroused nipple against his curled tongue. He slurped softly and said, "Even perfection has to be maintained."

He had already taken off his shirt when we had entered the room. My hands eagerly tugged down his sweats and shorts. Without losing contact between his mouth and my breasts, we side-stepped towards the shower. With his mouth gently sucking my nipple, he reached down to turn the shower on. I had to kneel and bend in sync with him to keep the contact going. 

He sucked a little harder, securing a mouthful of my breast in his mouth as he latched on, guiding our connected bodies into the shower. I felt the warm water splashing on my back. I extended my hand to the soap dispenser well-placed in the shower and pumped some slippery foam into my hand. As he continued to suck my breast, I reached around and smoothed the soap over his shoulders and back, applying affirming pressure signaling to him that he could suck my breasts as long as wanted. 

I lost track of time. I pumped several more pools of soap into my hand as he pleasured me with his mouth. "Somebody else needs to be soaped up too, I think." 

With that prompt, he turned me around, putting my back against his chest. He curled his face around my arm and leaned in to continue his sucking, conveniently leaving his hard cock poking against my hip where my soapy hand comfortably reached. 

I fondled his balls with my foamy, soapy hand. He slithered his tongue over my nipple in the same pattern I played my fingers over his balls. We were completely in sync with each other. 

As I moved my hands to his cock, he lifted his mouth away from my breasts and moaned in my ear, "sooo perfect." His hand reached to the soap dispenser and pumped the slippery potion into the palm of his hand. As I coated his cock over and over with my slippery hands, he reached up with both of his hands and lathered my breasts with enough soap and attention to make sure I was plenty clean.

He pushed his mouth against my wet ear and said, "Your perfect breasts are now very clean." He began to slide his hands down over my tummy and continued, "Maybe your perfect pussy needs some attention too?"

I could only moan and nod yes, yielding my body to his command. He made sure to clean me good. He did not miss a single inch of flesh. By the time he spun me around for a rinse, my back was arching and my body was quivering, chasing an orgasm that he generously delivered.

He held me tight as my body rippled with pleasure. Then I slumped into his arms as the water flushed over us both. I could feel his hard cock pressing against me, but felt helpless at the moment. 

He sensed my sexual fatigue and with a major portion of sensitivity whispered, "Perfect breasts, perfect pussy... and sometime later today . . . a perfect fuck."



Average Wifey Files #16



In an average wife's life there are so many things that are just common and routine. We are a dime a dozen. Nothing flashy. We seldom make a big splash in the room. We are the silent, hidden glue that holds things together. Some of us barely even qualify to be considered average, while others of us flirt along the line of being exceptional, memorable, inspiring, arousing. No matter where we are judged to be on that line, we all share one thing in common; we have fantasies.

Sometimes our fantasies grow close to home, sprouting from random, momentary flashes of emotions, senses, or experiences that are innocent and appropriate. Maybe it starts with a moment of inspiration in bed with hubby. Or maybe while sipping a cup of hot cocoa on a cold winter night as hubby stokes the fireplace. Maybe we sense an admiring eye. Perhaps we are caught off guard by unexpected flattery. 

Sometimes our fantasies lurk in the shadows, growing in the corners of suppressed desires, secrets of the heart, memories of forbidden moments we have tucked away. We are not immune to the lusts and cravings that are flaunted in the lifestyles of the beautiful, rich and famous people of the world. 

Sometimes just a gentle touch on my shoulder by hubby, accompanied by a soft spoken word of encouragement in my ear can fuel an evening of fantasies. A helping hand with the dishes after dinner could inspire my mind to visions of hot, passionate, love-making. The way he might watch me as I walk across the room. Or how he lingers in the bedroom to watch me getting undressed. Or picks up the laundry. It is an odd mix of both erotic actions and the routine, average, no-frills moments that can trigger fantasies. But I will not lie. There are times when the naughty, forbidden, never-to-be-acted-upon moments drive an average wifey crazy!

Walking in the mall and feeling the eyes of a stranger tracing the curves of my body can be creepy, yet somehow arousing. Flirtations from men other than hubby can be dangerous, yet appealing. Receiving inappropriate amounts of personal attention from someone I like can be a fire that burns long and deep inside of me, spreading into my bed, steaming up my bathtub, warming the folds of my moist pussy. The leering eye on my cleavage, the double-meaning comment testing my boundaries, the veiled hints of unspeakable desires; these and others alike stir my cravings in ways that only my fantasies can embrace. 

At the neighborhood, backyard BBQ, the handsome man from across the street is off limits. But his roaming eyes which not so discreetly curl around the curves of my breasts give me permission to later fan the flames of the fantasy of his hands smearing my breasts with honey and then slowly licking them clean.

At church, the younger man who seems to never miss an opportunity to give me a warm, snug, embrace during the 'meet and greet' time in the service, is low hanging fruit on the tree of temptation that I modestly and openly turn away from with a sense of dignity. But that does not stop my mind from wandering during the sermon, welcoming images of that same young man taking me by the hand and slow dancing with me; his hands sliding down to sensually squeeze my ass as I lean into him so that my breasts firmly greet his muscular chest; our mouths open softly and kiss with a romance-novel passion.

When the single mother of one stops by to visit me, taking a break from her daily walk of pushing the stroller around the block, I can only listen as she shares her pain of rejection regarding hubby's betrayal of her. I also can only listen as she tells me how it turned out for good, sparking her realization that she would rather have a lesbian lover than a cheating husband. Outwardly I listen and affirm. Inwardly, secretly, I fantasize about the brief moments we could share caring for each other, secretly pleasuring each other. I admire her youth, marvel at her honesty, and secretly wonder what her freedom would feel like in my arms. 

There are times when my fantasies are tame and hubby-centric. Occasionally, my fantasies of hubby can be wild, delving into images of raw fucking rather than sensual love-making. 

There are other times when my fantasies are shocking to me. I wonder how such thoughts could fill my mind. I am mystified at how something so unthinkable in reality could be so arousing in fantasy. 

Mostly though, the best fantasies are those which blur the line between my reality and my secret urges. Those are the visions that merge the familiar touch of hubby's hand on my body with the stranger's lusty pawing of my flesh. Maybe syncing up routines of life with naughty opportunities to exploit the trust of others; fucking a stranger while talking to hubby on the phone, cyber-sexing on my laptop with hubby in the room thinking I am FaceBooking, hiding my lesbian lover under the table licking my pussy as I maintain my composure chatting to hubby over dinner.

This is the mind of the average wifey. Our bodies may not be perfect 36-24-36 goddess-like figures. Our lifestyles may be dominated by all things regular and normal. Our stations in life may seem typical. We may appear to be so incremental in our libido that passion is a thousand urges away. But the truth is, our minds are as sharp as the most horny bastard out there. We feel things deeply. There are deep waters of desire flowing within us. 

And in those rare moments when we can inspire desire and lusty cravings in others, we cherish the experience. We long for those small windows of opportunity when we can break away from the routines of our average patterns and predictable expectations, giving our minds and bodies a jolt of excitement, stimulation, and fulfilling wonder. 

The average wifey may predictably shake her head 'no' to the flirty advances of the tempter. But later that night she may certainly be shaking in an orgasmic moment of pleasure as she engages her mind and body in the fantasy of what would happen if she said 'yes'. 

The average wifey is famously indicted for routine love-making that seldom meets the quantity or quality her hubby craves. But few understand that while the average wifey may fail to measure up to the standards of hubby's horniness, the average wifey enjoys fantasies that hubby could never understand, let alone compete with.

For all the average wifeys out there, I write. I expose our minds, our cravings, our fantasies. I endure the taunts of the good ol' boys who are hell-bent on keeping us barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. I revel in the affirmation of those who say, "way to go girl!" I write because it pleases me to be able to admit what, well, pleases me!

Yes, my 36c breasts have large, pink nipples that never fail to draw attention. And yes, hubby enjoys a steady diet of sucking my breasts and making love to me. But there is so much more... so, so much more.



Average Wifey Files #17



"Happy birthday, sweetie." Michael was smiling at me as he walked in the door with a gift-wrapped package in his hands. 

"Happy birthday for who?" I queried as I walked toward him and gave him a welcome home kiss. My birthday was over two months away.

"Well, you of course! I know it's a little early, but I could not resist." His face was aglow as he handed me my present. "Go ahead, open it up."

No woman has to be told twice to open a gift from her hubby. We moved to the kitchen table as I set the package down and began to tear into the gift-wrap. Enclosed was a white box with dimensions that signaled an article of clothing inside. The box was light, but not so light that it could be hiding a skimpy piece of nightwear. 

As I progressed to the point of lifting the lid off the box, Michael said "When I saw this, I immediately thought I would love to see you in it." Before my eyes discovered what my gift was, I looked at him and smiled with a blush that comes with feeling unexpected adoration. I flipped the lid over and folded back the sheet of white tissue paper laying over my gift. 

I reached in and delicately lifted the garment up, slowly unfurling a darling, little, sleeveless sundress that felt slinky and smooth. It was light yellow with little pink roses faintly splashed randomly about, cream-colored lace bordering the neckline and hem. I stood up and held it against my body to model the projected fit. It fell about midthigh level, with a plunging neckline that was no doubt a key selling point in Michael's eyes.

"Try it on" he chirped. 

I smiled, giggled "okay" and turned to walk down the hallway to our bedroom. I sensed him following me. As I stepped into our bedroom, he playfully slid onto the bed, laid on his side propping his head up on his hand and gave me his full attention. It was not uncommon for him to watch me undress (he made sure of that). But it was not everyday I was playing the role of fashion model for him. I was feeling just a touch of apprehension. 

I slid my shorts down my legs and playfully kicked them at him on the bed. He grabbed them and suggestively tucked them between his legs. I crossed my arms as I reached to my waist and slowly lifted my tee-shirt up. I got into the spirit of the moment and teased him, turning my back to him just as my tee rose over my bra. I pulled it up over my head and extended my arms as high as possible, twirling my tee in one hand and then tossing it backwards towards him.

With my back to him, I reached for the sundress. Before I even touched it I heard him say, "Uh uh... not yet." 

I looked at him over my shoulder and mused, "What's wrong, am I overdressed?" I reached behind and unclasped my bra, letting it fall off of my shoulders, keeping my back to him. I knew how badly he loved seeing my breasts. This tease was real. 

After my bra slipped to the floor, I again reached for the sundress. Again he interrupted, "Uh uh... not yet." I was not surprised. In fact, I expected it. It had me on edge. I knew he would want me naked under that sheer sundress. 

I wiggled my hips and tucked my thumbs inside the elastic waistline of my panties as I coyly said to him, "What, you mean these?"

"Oh yes" he murmured. I pleased him as I slowly exposed my ass to him, rolling my panties down my legs. I stepped out of them and towards my gift as he gave me a moan of approval. I remained with my back to him as I flipped the sundress up over my head and felt it smoothly slide over my body and settle into place. 

Immediately I recognized that my 36c breasts were a firm fit, making the plunging neckline a clear window to my cleavage. I pulled the fabric over my left breast to the right. I pulled the fabric over my right breast to the left. It made little difference. I smoothed the fabric over my tummy, feeling the hem flip against my thighs. The fabric was so light, so sheer, and so comfortable. I wanted to step over and take a look in the mirror, but I knew I had another set of eyes that had first dibs.

I took a deep breath and spun around a full 360 degrees, giving Michael just a brief glimpse of me from the front. Then I lifted my right hand to my hip and tucked my left hand behind my head as I playfully turned to face him. I smiled, "You like?"

There is something extremely sensual about feeling a slinky dress over your naked body, knowing that no matter how simple or modest it might be, there are eyes craving to know more. That craving look was clearly in Michael's eyes. I felt so adored in that moment that I didn't care about the mirror. The reflection I saw in his eyes was more than enough for me.

After he extended the moment gazing at me, he slid off the bed, took my hand and said "follow me." As he led me down the hallway, my heart was racing. As we walked toward the front room, my apprehension spiked not knowing what exactly he was up to. We moved near the front window where the late afternoon sunshine was streaking into the house. He positioned me with gentle hands on my waist, turning my back towards the window. He stepped back. 

I knew the sunlight behind me had to be shining through the thin fabric of my delicate and delightful sundress. I felt the warmth of the sun from behind me. Michael's mouth fell open as his big eyes absorbed the view. I swallowed hard as I increased the space between my bare feet, spreading my legs apart a little more. 

Michael broke the silence with one syllable at a time punctuated with pauses, "Oh... my... god!" I felt the heat of his stare between my legs, knowing the outline of my pussy had to be clearly outlined under the thin veil of my special gift. It was amazing how such an innocent view given to anyone bold enough to be peaking in our window could be such an erotic vision downstream on the other side of me. 

I felt SO hot now. The sunlight was baking my flesh from behind. Michael's full-blown leers of lust were overheating my innermost desires. I felt completely aroused and erotic. It was an added bonus that my actions were such a tease and turn-on to Michael. I felt so bold, so hot, so naughty.

A devilish grin edged across my face as a risky and naughty thought crept into my mind. Michael had managed to unleash something inside of me that robbed me of my modesty. I stepped towards him, close enough to run my hand through his hair, and softly said, "Watch this."

I turned around and walked to the front door. I grabbed the key to our mailbox. I opened the door and stepped out on the porch and maneuvered so that my path forward was directly in line between Michael and our curbside mailbox. I turned to acknowledge his stares, giggling to see his nose nearly pressed against the front room window. 

A light breeze blew between my legs, instantly pinpointing the moist patch of flesh between my legs. I glanced left and right, wondering if anyone was out. I heaved a sigh of relief as I saw no one. The only eyes I needed were peering out our front window. But the idea that I might be spotted by a stray eye or two had the same effect on both Michael and I. The risk. The tension. The thrill. 

When I arrived at our mailbox, I again glanced around. All clear. So I took the key in my hand and extended my arm towards the lock as I slowly bent over, my ass pointing at Michael. I felt the lacey hem dance over the back of my thighs, and even higher. As I reached in to get the mail, the faint sound of an approaching car muffled its way towards me. I had a few seconds to stand back up before the anonymous vehicle passed by uneventfully. But the thought that someone in that car could have taken advantage of the view of the sunlight flowing through my dress made me shiver. 

I walked back towards the house, fanning myself with the mail as I pursed my lips and puffed out a small whistle of air signaling to Michael both that I was hot and that the car passing was a close call. When I stepped back inside, I discovered Michael standing near the door wearing nothing but a big smile and an even bigger hardon!

I slid my body up against his and said, "Good thing it was my turn to go get the mail." 

He reached down and slid his hands under my dress and cupped my ass as he moaned with lust in my ear, "I have a special delivery for you."

I ground my body against him and squeezed my hand around his thick cock as I moaned, "A big package for me?"

We were standing just a few feet inside the front door. I lifted my foot off the ground and wrapped it around his waist, opening my pussy wide for him as he pulled me firmly up against him. "Yes ma'am. A big package you will need to sign for." 

I playfully replied, "Where should I put my John Hancock?" I made sure to put special emphasis on the COCK as I fingered the tip of his cock pressing against the warm, moist flesh of my pussy folds. 

He allowed my hand to guide him as he pushed his throbbing cock inside of me. He had reached his limit. He could no longer hold back. He dropped the pretense of the double entendre banter and groaned, "right... fucking... there!"

We did not make love as we stood there. We fucked. I never removed my sundress. It was as much a part of our passion as we were. Michael would later call it the "fucking magical" dress. I totally agreed. And we both started laying out the plans for it's next enchanted appointment.



Average Wifey Files #18



When Michael has to be away for days at a time due to his business travels, I dread the reality that I will become reacquainted with those childhood monsters in my closet. I sleep with a sense of security when he is home. Sounds in the night have a different tone when he is in bed next to me. But when he is away, there is that unspoken reality that I am the last line of defense against those nighttime creaks and shadows.

As any parent of a live-at-home college student knows, late night and wee-hours-of-the-morning activities in the bowels of the home are not unexpected. The lifestyles of those late teen to early twenty-somethings are top-heavy with late night activity. Some of those activities are understandable, perhaps even overused as an excuse such as the odd, part-time job hours or college class exam studies or assignment deadlines. 

There are also the activities that meet with varying degrees of disapproval from parents, such as late-night partying and carousing, texting instead of sleeping, video game activities ad nauseam. 

On this particular night, early morning to be more precise, a noise downstairs had penetrated my light sleep. Such sounds would normally be under my radar. But this night Michael was a thousand miles away. This night our daughter had been out with her boyfriend. 

With a half-opened eye I caught a glimpse of the clock next to our bed. It read 1:37am. I laid still. Another sound or two later, I battled against the emotions bubbling inside of me. One was just the hint of fear, wondering if indeed that was just my daughter and not something, or someone, else. The other was more than a hint of irritation, believing that indeed it was my daughter.

The bedside clock's numbers of 2:11am seemed to scream at me. "Get up! You won't be able to go back to sleep until you check on those sounds!" A few minutes later, I unfolded my naked body out from under the blanket and swung my limp legs over the edge of the bed. I sat with my feet touching the floor, blindly fumbling my hand on the bed until I found my robe. I stood to my feet and wrapped my body in my robe.

I was 99% sure it was my daughter I had heard. But that 1% of uncertainty kept me in stealth mode as I stepped out of our bedroom and towards the stairs. That single percent of fear led me to linger an extra moment at the top of the stairs, straining my ears for any clues. 

The house was as quiet as it was dark, illuminated only by the faint glow of the full moon sneaking through the slats of the window blinds. The interior light to the front door entry way was off. That meant my daughter was home. I curled one foot down to the top step, the soft, plush carpet edging up my Achilles as I timidly moved forward. 

Nothing. 

Another step. Then another. It was just when my foot landed at that third step, not even a third of the way down the stairs, that I heard a rustling sound. I did not recognize it, but I could tell it was coming from the right of the stairs. Instantly my one percent of fear spiked higher. My daughter's room was to the left. So was the kitchen, the dining room, and the family TV room where I might find her at this late hour. 

But the sound was from the other side of the house. Two other bedrooms and Michael's office were to the right. So was what we called the "pool room". It was the largest room in the house where we often entertained guests. It had large French doors that opened to the patio area around the backyard swimming pool and spa. It had its own bathroom. It was where our guests would usually go to change into or out of swimwear. 

I took another step. Although I heard nothing, I knew that I had heard something a moment ago. As the carpet rose against the back of my ankle, my fear rose another notch as well. By the time I reached the midway point on the stairs, my fear consumed me. It wasn't just that I heard something that fueled my fear. It was the unknown. 

I was at the point on the stairs where I could bend my neck and peak around the wall that bordered the right, upper half of the staircase. Like a snake curling around a boulder, I slowly poked my head around the corner enough to take a peak. My heart was pounding. My fists were clinched. 

The dimly lit "pool room" was largest and closest. As my eyes scanned the portion of room visible from my position crouched down on the staircase, I spotted motion on the large, sectional couch near the French doors. Instantly my fear was swallowed up by relief as I recognized my daughter. In the same instant, my fear was also swallowed up by curiosity as I also recognized her boyfriend on the couch with her.

I froze. It was in that instant that I had to make a decision. Either silently back away and go back up to bed or, well, the or else was less clear. My overwhelming relief paved the way back to bed. My curiosity anchored my body right there. I should have gone back to bed. 

But I stayed right there. 

I knelt on my silent perch, my eyes now able to interpret the sound. The faint rustling was the sound of two bodies squirming on the couch. My heart was now beating even harder than when fear had been pulsing through my veins.

I am not proud of what followed. But the memory of it arouses me as much now as it did in that original moment. I watched. Like a pervy voyeur sneaking a peak at two, college-aged lovers behind closed doors, I settled my focus on them. 

The couch was cut in half by the shadows and the moonlight cascading through the French doors. Within moments, I had a full grasp of the context. They were passionately making out. They had the full and reasonable expectation that they were alone. 

He was shirtless and appeared to be wearing only his boxers. My sweet, adorable, daughter was smothered by him. I saw enough of her skin edging out from under him to know that she too was topless. Her long legs were exposed. I covered my mouth to suppress my motherly instincts to gasp as I realized I could see nothing but skin as my eyes caught a quick view of her side; from shoulder to knee, nothing but skin!

Then, he lifted away from her, even as their mouths continued kissing. His strong body glowed in the milky light of the moon. My eyes drank in the view of his profile, six-pack abs rippling just above the waistline of his boxers. His hands fondled my daughter's breasts while her arms were wrapped around his neck. Their kisses were so erotic, so seduced me, that I lost track of the reality that that was my daughter. 

Fear and curiosity had driven me to this moment. But it was arousal that kept me curled up on that staircase. It was forbidden lust that invited me to sit on the stairs and watch.

My eyes grew bigger and my fingers loosened the snug knot on the belt of my robe as I watched them. She slid her hands down his chest, their tongues still dancing together. I felt both naughty and excited as I felt my inner urges cheering her on, hoping to see more of him. 

His hands were still roaming over her breasts as her hands moved over those abs of his. I imagined how firm and strong he must feel to her tender hands. Their mouths broke apart. His head tilted back as mine tilted forward.

Her lips kissed down his chin as the belt on my robe come untied. 

Her mouthed nuzzled along his neck as the front of my robe slid open. 

Her tongue licked over his smooth, hairless chest and lapped at his nipples as my finger brushed over my smooth, married pussy.

Then, I watched as her hands worked in concert with her mouth, delicately lowering his boxers. The moonlight was flowing over their bodies. I could see the glistening traces of moisture on his chest and abs left by her wet kisses and licks. I could feel the wetness on my pussy lips now, inspired by this forbidden venture and view.

I watched with a level of arousal and thrill that had me yearning for a chance to reach out and join them, an impossibility for sure. My finger soothed over my pussy as I swallowed hard and shivered at her erotic tug on his boxers. 

My eyes nearly leaped out of my face when his cock finally sprang into view. It was amazing! It was both long and thick. I watched her sweet mouth lower to the tip of it. I could make out the precum coating awaiting her little mouth. 

Her lips kissed his tip as my fingers patted the moist folds of my pussy. 

She slowly lowered her mouth over his mushroom as I slid a finger between my folds. 

Her mouth then moved slowly, lowering over his juicy cock, taking as much as she could. My legs fanned open wider as I pressed my finger deep inside of me. 

Her mouth lovingly moved up and down. Each time she rode her mouth up, the reflection of the moonlight gleamed off of his slick cock. My finger painted my pussy lips with my juices, flowing freely between my legs now.

As her mouth bobbed up and down on his cock, my mouth silently fell wide open as my own pleasure began to flood over my body and my mind projected my mouth as hers. 

I admired how his ass cheeks firmly clenched as he moved his cock in concert with her mouth. I felt my body tense with each slithering stroke of my finger over my clit.

In total sync with them now, I pulled back my robe so that my hardened nipples could somehow enjoy the view as I watched her hands cup her breasts as her mouth pulled off... feeling my breasts tingle. 

His own hands quickly moved to stroking his long, hard, dripping wet cock just inches above her breasts cradled in her hands... my finger vigorously rubbing my swollen clit.

Her eyes looking up at him with an expression of adoration... my eyes drinking in the view of them as if I were right there, giving him my breasts even as the taste of his precum lingered in my mouth.

I watched his hips begin to thrust... my throbbing clit began to explode.

His cum spurted onto her inviting breasts. One rope. Then two. Then another! OMG, he was so full of lust and passion... my body buckled under the weight of having to silently manage one of the most intense orgasms I had ever experienced.

I watched his glimmering, gooey cum ooze between her breasts and down her tummy... as my pussy leaked out all over the stair carpet beneath me.

I shuddered in post-orgasmic thrill as I watched her naughty finger curl up her tummy and over her breasts, lifting a taste of his cum to her mouth... unconsciously I scooped my pussy and ran my finger across my tongue lustily hanging over my lower lip.

He crumpled to the couch... I fell back.

She cuddled up against him... I slunk back up the stairs in a daze, my robe left on the carpet somewhere along the way, my naked body finally collapsing onto my bed. 

I have no idea when he left the house. But I would be more certain to pay attention to when he might return on a future late night. 



Average Wifey Files #19



 (Sometimes I have fantasies that I could not and would not ever share with my hubby. They are just too naughty and over the edge. I am always shocked when one of these ultra-dirty scenes somehow invades my mind and captivates me. This brief story is one such fantasy. Michael will never know about it. I would NEVER act on it. 

It is edgy arousals such as these that drove me to Lit. This is my safe place to release such forbidden thoughts and experience a cleansing, or further arousal, or ideally both! I advise that you do NOT read on if you prefer to keep your image of me in tact, that of a demur, faithful, shy but sexy, average wifey who loves her hubby dearly and takes delight in pleasing him, not betraying him.) 

Michael and a few his buddies had plans for a day-long, deep-sea, fishing trip. He isn't much of a fisherman. For him, this annual trip was more about hanging out with the guys than it was about fishing. For the past five years, I was happy to see him off on his sea ventures with them. He always looked so cute in his fishing hat. 

Unfortunately, this year's trip got scheduled on the same weekend Michael & I had marked on the calendar for our own getaway. So, we settled on a compromise that included a first for us; tent camping at a campground. The one we chose was less than a mile from the bay where he and the guys would board their fishing scooter. Michael said we would even bookend the weekend with a day on either side to make up for shared time lost to his fishing trip.

We both love the coast. But neither of us are much into camping. We have a place at the coast that is right on the beach. We spend a lot of time there. Camping was kind of a romantic idea though. 

The week before the trip, we went shopping for a tent and other gear we figured we would need. It took me back in time to a few dates we had in college when we would pretend we were a married couple shopping in a store. It was the new, unchartered territory that gave it romance. That was the case now because there was nothing all that special about purchasing camping tent and gear!

Michael's fishing trip was on Saturday. They had to board the boat at the ungodly hour of 3am. This meant Friday night would be an early bedtime for him. So it was nice that we arrived on Thursday afternoon. Michael had executed a "practice" set-up of our new tent the day before back home, allowing us to work out the frustrations and irritations of the project ahead of time. 

We looked proudly on our new tent staked to the ground. We proceeded to move in and got things arranged. What it lacked in the conveniences of our place at the coast it made up for with the romance of first-time experiences and the intimate setting. It was labeled as a "six man tent", but the two of us and our stuff covered the floor space. 

I smiled as Michael laid out our sleeping bags, fully unzipped both, and then zipped them together. 

That evening we discovered that neither of us were very good with camp stoves or kerosene lanterns. But as we cuddled with each other next to the campfire, I thought I could not have been happier. An hour later I retracted that thought as we cuddled with each other in our sleeping bags. Naked and "under the stars" we drifted off to a pleasant sleep after a delightful, soft, love-making experience that seemed to be as good as it gets.

Friday we slept in. Friday afternoon I took a nap. When I awoke, I heard Michael laughing and talking with someone. I peaked out the flap of our tent and saw him helping our "neighbors" put up their tent. I stretched and smiled as I watched him play the part of Mr. Fixit with this young couple who could not be any newer at tent building than Michael. He saw me and said, "Come on over here Kathleen and meet our neighbors."

I smiled and brushed my hands down my top and jeans, wiping away those naptime wrinkles as I walked toward them. I looked up and said, "Hi, I'm Kathleen."

The perky little wife extended her hand towards me and shook mine as she giggled, "Hi Kathleen. I'm Mary." She nodded at her hubby a few feet away, "and this is my husband, Joey." We exchanged brief pleasantries, then Joey got back to working with Michael on the tent.

Mary and I chatted. They were married for almost two years now; had no kids, yet. This was their first camping trip. As she spoke, her sparkling eyes matched her bubbly personality. She was adorable. Barely five feet tall, her pixie-girl looks were undeniable. Short blonde hair, slender hips, and a bustline I was certain Michael had already admired for being both perky and full. 

Joey was no less a prize. I heard him mention to Michael something about having been a wrestler in high school. His body still appeared to be chiseled. His dark, wavey hair was cropped short and neat. His smoldering, brown eyes reminded me of puppy dog eyes. He and Mary made a cute couple. 

Finally the guys finished the tent. Joey glanced at Mary to make sure they were in sync as he said to Michael, "Thanks for your help. Could we thank you by treating you to some campfire cooked hot dogs?" 

Michael laughed as he said, "No need, Joey. Was happy to help. Besides, early night for me. I am heading out on a deep sea fishing trip at 3am tonight, or technically tomorrow morning."

Mary's eyes flinched with surprise as she looked at me and asked, "You are going deep sea fishing?"

"Me? Pfft, no way" I said, waving my hand playfully at Michael. "That's his thing. I will be here enjoying my leisure." We both giggled. And with that, Michael took my hand and pointed me down the road to initiate a nice walk together. We bid farewell to our new neighbors.

I quietly said to Michael, "What a cute couple."

He offered nothing more than a cursory "yes they are" as we walked on. He expressed not another thought to me about them. My mind was not so removed from them.

As nighttime fell upon us, Michael was preparing for his early bedtime and early rise, getting all his gear arranged and ready to go. With everything finally in order, he sighed, "bed time for me." I was way too alert to join him. He kissed me goodnight and said, "I guess it is safe to say that I won't see you in the morning, but I will see you about 4pm tomorrow." He kissed me again, then retired to the tent. I curled up with a book on my new camping chair next to the glow of our new kerosene lantern. 

Perhaps an hour or so later, I set my book down. I dimmed the lantern so that it was burning on the lower setting. I stood up and began to walk towards the restrooms. As I listened to the crunching ground beneath my feet, I felt so conspicuous. All was quiet for the night as I crossed in front of Joey's & Mary's tent. 

After using the facilities, I made my way back. The bright lights of the restroom made it challenging at first as I stepped out into the darkness. As my eyes slowly adjusted, I recognized that I was off course just a little bit. I curved back in the right direction. 

This is where the fork in the road appeared. To my right was reality. It took me back to my chair. To the left was my fantasy. Allow me to not bore you with reality and share with you what awaited me on the left....

My course correction had delivered me just behind Joey & Mary's tent. When I realized this, I tip-toed quietly so as not to disturb or alarm them. My feet, soft as feathers floating to the ground, made not a peep. So quiet was I in fact, that I could hear a rustling sound inside of their tent. 

I froze. A few seconds later, Mary's playful giggle tickled my ears. For a split second, I feared the worse; perhaps they had heard me or seen me. Before I could even begin to prepare my apology, I heard three successive smacking sounds from their tent. I knew exactly what those sounds were. They were the sounds of passionate kissing. 

I remained frozen in place. My ears trained in on them, perhaps voyeuristic, but innocently wanting to hear just a little bit more. The more I heard, the more I wanted to hear. My feathery feet moved closer to the edge of their tent. My eyes dared to join the target of my ears.

My kerosene lamp which I had left dimly glowing, was in a straight line from me directly on the other side of their tent. Faint, but effective, it cast its light through the sheer nylon fabric of their tent. I could faintly make out their bodies. I stood in the darkness... they could not see me, but I could see them.

I shivered. They were on top of their sleeping bag. They both were naked. The first definitive image that greeted my eyes was Joey's firm ass as he laid on top of Mary. I did not look away. 

I watched and listened as I felt a surge of arousal that began to consume me. I worried that someone might see me, but I was mesmerized. 

They rolled over, Mary now on top, startling me as they moved up against the side of the tent where I stood. Mary sat up, straddling Joey's firm body. I saw that Joey's cock was still penetrating her pussy as his hands reached up and fondled those nearly perfect, perky, pixie-girl breasts. 

Suddenly I felt a pang of guilt sharp enough to bring me to my senses. My conscience could bear no more. This was wrong! I had to pry my eyes and ears away. My silent struggle was intense. I managed to do the right thing though. I took a step back, fully intending to move away and never ever do something like this again. 

My feathery foot made a mistake though. It landed on a dry leave crumpled on the ground rather than smooth, silent soil. The crackle sounded to me like a firecracker going off! Before I could move, Joey's hand reached over and quickly unzipped the window flap enough for him to peak out. 

I was caught! "Kathleen?" he asked with a tone of confusion. I could not say a word. I did not know what word to even say. 

He repeated, "Kathleen, is that you?" I looked at his eyes through the sliver in the tent window. It registered for him. "Oh my god, it is you."

I braced for what was sure to be one of the most embarrassing moments and deserved rebukes in my life. Instead, I was confronted by a second pair of eyes peeping at me through the tent window. "Hello, Kathleen." Mary's sing-song voice was anything but judgmental. In fact, it was welcoming. 

My mouth opened, but still no words. Michael tugged the zipper to the flap open further so both he and Mary's faces were visible to me. His voice carried the timber of concern as he asked, "Kathleen, are you okay?"

Finally able to release at least a few words to them, I mumbled quietly, "I am sooo sorry. I was just..."

Mary smiled at me and interrupted before I could grouse another word, "It's okay." If blushing had a tone of voice, it would sound exactly like the tone that floated her next words to my ears.

"We kind of like it... you watching us."

Joey smiled up at me. Suggestive tease does have a tone of voice. He used it. "Would you like to come back later at around, oh-h, say 3:30am?" 

I do not remember anything else that happened between that very moment and when Michael rose to leave. But I do remember counting his steps as I listened to his feet crunch off towards his destination. I sensed that Joey & Mary were counting too.

Moments later, I sat up. I was shivering at the thought of what I was about to do. Wearing only a tee shirt and panties, I crawled over the sleeping bags. I peaked out the tent. I slithered out and nearly hop-scotched around to the back of Joey & Mary's tent. I heard the flap unzip. Mary giggled as she peaked out at me, "NO silly, come INSIDE."

Shocked and surprised, I formulated my steps around the edge of their tent. As my shadow cast by the full moon fell on the front of their tent, I watched as the zipper slowly edged upward, inviting me inside. I bent down, poked my head inside, and proceeded to crawl inside. 

They were both under the cover of their sleeping bag. They had zipped them together just like Michael and I had. Next to them was a pallet made of a few blankets. Mary patted her little hand on them and whispered, "Come over here, Kathleen."

More nervous than I could recall ever being before, I snaked my body to the pad of blankets. I was no more than a foot from Mary's side as she smiled at me and said, "Now relax. There is nothing to be afraid of. Just watch. Nobody is going to hurt you or touch you."

I sunk down and laid on my back, turning my head towards them. Although they were covered by the top sleeping bag, it was completely unzipped down to their feet. Joey was on the other side of Mary. As he turned on his side to lean into Mary, his and my eyes met. I watched him lean in and softly kiss Mary. The sleeping bag covered them both from the shoulders down. My eyes remained locked with Joey's as he kissed Mary's lips softly and tenderly. 

I watched as his tongue extended to hers, both of them playfully flicking and swirling at the edge of her lower lip. Mary moaned faintly. So did I as I licked my lips.

I could make out a ripple in the cover over Mary as Joey slid his hand to fondle her breast. I turned on my side to watch, more connected with each passing minute. As I sensed her pleasure in having his warm firm hand kneading her breast like a firm lump of dough, I felt my large, light, pink nipples hard against the fabric of my tee. The more he fondled her, the more my sensitive my nipples felt. 

Joey had a glint in his eye, still looking at me, as the cover slid lower over Mary's body, the upper flesh of her breasts peaking out. Of my own free will, yet compelled to somehow further our connection, my own hand tenderly slid the wide V-neck collar of my tee over one shoulder. It allowed my own breast to be delicately exposed in sync with Mary's.

Joey playfully tugged the cover back up over Mary. I instinctively followed his lead and slid the collar of my tee back in place. He and I were now in sync. I felt it. He was with Mary no doubt. But I felt as if I was Mary to him. I felt as if it were my body he was pleasuring, not hers. It was as if I were Mary. 

I was intoxicated with that forbidden thought as he stared into my eyes, his hands all over her. Or was it me? My mind was taking over. I quivered at the next thought that was daring to form on my mouth. 

My nipples were so hard now. My panties were snug against my smooth pussy, moist and warm. 

I couldn't say those words. But I silently mouthed them at him, his eyes tracing the corners of my mouth as he easily read my lips.

"f - u - c - k M - a - r - y" 

He pulled the cover back again, this time the upper right angle corner slid to her hip. One line traced under her breast closest to me and halfway over the other. The lower line angled over her upper thigh. 

I reached down and slid my tee up, revealing one of my breasts to Joey. He smiled as he leaned in and sucked lightly her nipple. I could feel the heat on my own nipple. Mary moaned. I moaned. I again mouthed to him...

"f - u - c - k M - a - r - y"

He pulled the cover back even further. His hands smoothed over Mary's perky breasts jiggling in full view as he looked at me with those smoldering eyes. I slid my tee up over my other breast, tucking it under my chin. His eyes danced at the view of my exposed breasts in the background framing those of Mary's. 

"f - u - c - k M - a - r - y" ... My eyes pleaded with him.

With another tug of the cover, Mary cooed as he slide the fabric across her pussy until her sweet little body was completely exposed from head to toe. I swallowed hard as wriggled my tee up over my head. He nodded and smiled.

I moved my hands down over my tummy to the waistline of my panties as he leaned in to kiss his way down from Mary's breasts to her navel. His mouth never left her body. His eyes never left mine.

Mary softly lifted her hips upward, eagerly offering Joey a taste of her pussy. I lifted my hips up in the same moment, allowing my hands to slide my panties down.

His mouth gave a light kiss to the edge of Mary's folds, then lifting his mouth up about two inches to reveal a line of pussy nectar dangling, connecting his lips with hers. I felt my panties sticky and moist making a small protest to leave that warm, moist nest of mine. 

"f - u - c - k M - a - r - ieee"... My mind was now begging for him to do it.

My pussy was in plain view as raised his body up, finally revealing to MY eyes for the first time his young, thick, manly cock. My eyes grew big. I wondered how such a sweet little thing like Mary could absorb such a full cock in its entirety!

His hands spread her legs. My hands did the same to my body. 

She wriggled underneath him. I scooted closer to them, barely an inch or two separating my right arm and leg from Mary's side. We were parallel, yet somehow merging into one. I watched as he moved between her legs, his cockhead glistening with precum.

I scooted again, this time so close that I made contact with Mary's side. He smiled. She moaned. I quivered. I again mouthed at him, but in my utter daze of arousal, I had a hard time fully enunciating those two silent words, biting my lip in a mid word stutter. What I meant to say and what Joey watched formed over my mouth was both just slightly different, and a world of difference.

"f - u - c - k M - m - m - ie"

He read my lips and moaned as he slid his cock into his young, perky wife. My fingers slid into my own pussy following his lead. In some incredible synergy of lust and fantasy and daring exposure and sharing, Joey fucked Mary AND Joey fucked me. My mouth opened and now purposefully mouthed those two silent words...

"f - u - c - k M - E"

His mind embraced it. My mind embraced it. Her mind embraced it. There was absolutely no doubt in any of our minds that he was fucking both of us... together... as one.

Never once did he touch me. But then again, oh how he touched me. Both of them did. 

My pussy flooded with an orgasm before Mary did. I couldn't blame her. I wanted to keep his cock inside of me as long as possible too. As I laid against her side, I could feel the earth moving beneath me as her little body absorbed his thrusts. 

Joey finally pulled out, and with his strong hand tugging a few final strokes, he aimed his throbbing shaft at her pussy. I could almost hear the sound of his thick cum blasting from his cock as it shot out several ropes of hot, sticky, ooze. He had good aim, but her body was just too little. No way he could keep his cream sequestered on her body alone with me against her side. 

I got splattered. Some even dripped down her side onto mine. It was as close as we came to him actually making contact with me. 

As he slumped to a heap on the other side of Mary, the predawn light licked at the top of their tent. I had to leave. 

I admit, I was not in a clear state of mind at that moment. But I still could not believe, as I slipped out of their tent and begun to feather-foot it back to mine, that I was completely naked! I had forgotten both my tee and panties, leaving them crumpled on the blankets next to Mary.

I was more than halfway to my tent when it dawned on me that I was not only naked, but that I had Joey's cum dribbling down my right thigh. The birds were chirping. The sun was still beneath the horizon, but dark hews of red and orange were cascading along the eastern horizon. I quickly stepped towards the cover of my tent. 

I knew where my tee and panties were. I knew exactly where to find them. Perhaps today's nap would be midmorning when I was still alone for several more hours rather than late afternoon close to Michael's return. It would be the neighborly thing do.



Average Wifey Files #20



 ***IF you have not already, you might want to read File #11 since this picks up where that left off.*** 

Usually when I wake-up the morning after sex, I can still feel some of Michael's cum inside of me. It is warm and makes me feel warm. It is a good feeling; one of the benefits of using the pill for birth control rather than a condom. 

Usually, Valentine's Day is a special day for us. We both look forward to our romantic date, admittedly I more for the romance and he more for the sex. 

But, as I dropped my feet over the side of the bed and slid them into my slippers and pulled on my robe, this was not the usual morning after sex nor was it the usual Valentine's Day. I was tortured by the twist of events that culminated in Michael's off the charts passion the night before. 

As my slippers scraped the bedroom carpet, each step I took immediately reminded me that my pussy had been soaked just a few hours ago. His mouth. His cock. My juices. His cum. It was a messy pool of arousal that had been bubbling between my folds. Now it was in various stages of crusty smears between my thighs, semi-gelatin like glaze near my pussy, and a oozing flow seeping out of me.

As I turned on the shower, I stood there and shook my head. How could a well-intended self-pic sent to him have taken such a turn? And worse yet, what was I thinking when instead of putting a stop to things, I just kept adding fuel to the fire? 

As I stood in the shower seeking more than just a cleansing of my body, my mind kept asking questions it could not answer. Was it me that turned him on so much last night or his mistaken belief it was somebody else? Was all that passion directed at me or someone else? Had he compared those self-pics of me, that he did not know was me, and run them through the rolodex of images in his mind of women he knew and had mentally undressed?

He had already left for work before I had risen. I felt his soft kiss on my cheek as he whispered "happy valentine's day", then headed out to work. I pretended to be worn out from the night before; it did not take much acting. 

I stepped out of the shower and dried off. The towel in my hand squeaked as I rubbed a circle out on the fogged up bathroom mirror. As I pulled the comb through my hair, the small beachball-sized circle on the large plate glass mirror reflected back to me a partial view of what Michael had devoured. But was it ME that he enjoyed or was it someone else? 

I pulled on my robe and went downstairs to the kitchen to get my morning cup of coffee. There on the table was a small, heart-shaped box of chocolate candies with a card resting against it. "Happy V-Day my HLF" the envelope read, a cryptic reference to his favorite, private pet-name for me, "hot little fuck". I didn't touch it. I just looked at it, conflicted.

That's when that little devil propped himself on my shoulder again, speaking words in my ear that only I could hear. Kathleen, what's your problem?

My mind was trying to figure that out!

My naughty advisor continued. Kathleen. What more could you possibly want? He fucked you good. He left you chocolates. And certainly more fun awaits you tonight!

I sat down to ponder my little devil's perspective. My hands curved around my cup of coffee as I sat at the table, staring at the unopened card and box of chocolates as if it were not mine to open. I muttered to myself, "What is wrong with you, Kathleen?" I had no answer. My little devil was silent as well. 

I reached in my robe pocket and withdrew my phone. There was one person I thought I could count on to help me figure this out. She had already held my hand across forbidden boundaries in the past (File #13). She could certainly help me get a handle on this situation. I called her.

"Good morning, Jen."

"Hey girlfriend! Happy Valentine's Day."

"Happy Valentine's Day to you, too. Do you have a minute?"

"Kathleen, for you I have all the time in the world. What's up?"

I took a deep breath. "I have a situation here that I need your help with. It is complicated and I don't know what to do." I got no more than two or three minutes into a rambling preamble that quickly revealed to her that this was a touchy one. She listened until she had to interrupt.

"Would you like me to come over?"

"Oh Jen..." I hesitated with the words 'no thanks' dangling from my lips as my little devil whispered  say YES... you know you want to.  

"Kathleen? Are you there?" 

"Yeah, yeah... I'm here Jen. I don't want to be a bother. I just need to talk." 

A short fifteen minutes later, Jen was at my door. I had not moved from the table, my thoughts dazed and confused. My mind was spinning over that box of chocolates and card like vultures narrowing in on their next meal.

I got up and went to the entry way, welcoming Jen in with a big hug that immediately let her know that I was upset more than she had picked up on the phone. "I am so glad you are here" I whimpered on her shoulder. "I am so confused."

"Well, first things first. I gotta have a cup of that coffee before we both get confused!" I smiled. Jen always had a way of getting me to see past my emotions in the moment by forcing a smile to my face. Still in just my robe and slippers, hair damp and plainly combed back, I retrieved a cup of coffee for her. 

Jen wandered into the dining room to take a look at this ominous box of chocolates and card I had referenced. As I handed her the coffee cup she nodded at the table and playfully mused, "Such a menacing sight." Another smile.

I sat her down and unfolded the events of yesterday and last night. She listened intently. Jen seemed to never be judgmental about anything, and supportive in everything. She was a rare friend. I knew I did not need to worry about her reaction to my daring self-pic venture gone awry or Michael's unexpected interaction with it. 

She patiently let me tell the whole story. When I led her to the final moment where I arrived at the box of chocolates and card, I ran out of gas and slumped back on the couch. I was ready for her help. 

"Well Kathleen, the good news is that you have found another way to make it hot with Michael. Where did you come up with such an idea?!"

I shrugged my shoulders humbly, not all that concerned with credit at the moment, although my little devil did hiss in my ear, Hey, it was MY idea!

Jen continued, "Of course the bad news is that you have a fire burning that needs to be contained and you are at a loss for how to do that." She smiled at me with a dramatic pause... "And I can help you with that. I actually think this could be fun for you."

My little devil whispered,  That's exactly what I said!  

Jen pulled out her phone. "I have an idea. What is the addy and password for this secret email account you use?"

With blind trust in my friend's loyalty I gave it to her. She quickly navigated to my account on her phone. "Got it. Good. Now, let me see if I can ... " Her voiced tailed off as her finger swiped a few times over the screen of her phone. She tapped on the screen and smiled. "My my, girl, no wonder he got all horned up."

She was looking at my sent emails and the two pictures I had sent to Michael. "You are right. No face to give it away." She spread her fingers across the screen to zoom in on the pic. "And Michael is also right... VERY hot." She looked up and winked at me. 

Her playful tease was therapeutic. It was a bit late and certainly not my target audience, but still nice anyway to receive that reaction to MY pic of MY body from someone who knew it was me. 

That's when she got the sly smile on her face and an all-too-familiar naughty tone in her voice. She said, "Oh Kathleen, I have a great plan!" The little devil on my shoulder perked up and rubbed his wicked hands together,  I love it when she talks like that.

Without bothering to first clue me in on the plan, she jumped into action. She flipped through her aps and opened up the camera on her phone as she said to me, "Take off your robe."

My startled look was not in protestation, although I did hesitate.  Take it off!  my little devil echoed in my ear exactly as Jen repeated, "Kathleen, take off your robe."

I set my coffee cup down and pealed back my robe so that I was still sitting on it, albeit naked on the couch. Being exposed to Jen was not a new experience. It was this yet unexplained plan of hers that had me so nervous.

Before I recognized what she was doing, I heard the -click- of her phone taking my photo and instinctively pulled my robe back over my body. "What are you doing?!" 

She laughed and said, "Relax! This is going to be soo good! Now, hold your coffee cup in your lap so it teases the camera by covering your pussy." 

I trustingly slid my robe back open and did as she said with the coffee cup. She took a couple of photos. Then she got up and moved behind on the couch, looking over my shoulder. I listened to the click of several more photos. "Spread your legs open" she said. I did. Another click.

After about a dozen more poses and countless photos, I finally could not go any further without knowing what this plan of hers was. 

"Well, before I try to explain it to you, check out these pics." She handed me her phone and directed me to the thumbnails of me, row after row of my body. As I flipped from pic to pic, I noticed that not a single one showed my face. In fact, most of them were expertly angled to even disguise my identity.

My little devil drooled in my ear,  Oh this is naughty!  Jen proudly smiled at me and asked, "Got an idea of my plan yet?"

I don't know if I was dazed from the past 24 hours or overwhelmed by the unthinkable reality that I had just posed for dozens of nude pictures that were stored on somebody else's phone. All I could do was shake my head and murmur, "I have no idea."

For the next 20 minutes, Jen detailed her naughty plan for me. I shivered a few times when I was unable to distinguish between her voice and that of my little devil. I suppose nothing was more telling of my understanding and full acceptance and comfort with her plan than the fact that the entire time I sat there listening to her I remained completely naked. 

When she finished explaining and we agreed to the details we needed to coordinate on, she stood up to leave and we hugged. I didn't bother with my robe. If I could entrust my naked pics to her custody and my upcoming evening to her naughty mind, then certainly my body was secure in her embrace. 

"Dammit, Kathleen" she whispered in my ear as her arms smoothed over my lower back and ass, "I don't know how Michael controls himself around you." 

We walked toward the entry way. Before she opened the door, she kissed me goodbye on the cheek, momentarily leaned back to glance up and down my body once more, and then returned for one more kiss. It was on my mouth. It was sweeter. It was erotic. And yes, it was so affirming. Just what I needed. 

Later that evening, Michael arrived home just a few minutes before we needed to leave for our reservations at our favorite restaurant. I was dressed and ready to go, wearing a daring ensemble he had given me for birthday. Of course it had the required plunging neckline and hip-hugging fit that he seemed to never tire of admiring on my body. The gray, cowlneck, cashmere sweater hung so low that I had to carefully keep track to make sure that the collar folds rippled just right or the upper edge of my large, light, pink nipples would peak out. The burgundy, wrap-around skirt dared to go higher than just about any other skirt I wore. 

When Michael's eyes greeted me, I was relieved when I felt the return of the thrill of his lustful eyes on me. I had not resolved my conflict of last night, but that was balanced by my eager anticipation for Jen's naughty plan to begin to play out. I bounced into his arms and gave him a warm, welcome home, Happy Valentine's Day kiss. His mouth opened and wasted no time returning my greeting. As I felt his hands smooth over my hips and under my skirt, a flash of Jen's warm embrace from earlier that day moved across my mind, serving to remind me that I had work to do.

I playfully guided his hand away from me as I sung in his ear, "Plenty of time for that, baby. But we need to go or we will be late for our reservation." He knew I was right. It only took two more playful slaps at his roaming hand over my ass to effectively disengage our bodies and head out to the car. 

On the drive, he decompressed a little while about his day. Typical, executive pressures that I had heard a thousand times before. My mind was wandering to what was awaiting us around the corner. His eyes were wandering down my sweater and up my legs. The conversation was dry, but our minds were filled with excitement.

As we entered the restaurant, the lobby was already packed with guests waiting for a table. Michael winked at me, silently signaling to me how he liked that my body had the attention of many in the room. I certainly could feel their eyes on me. My little devil whispered,  Even on Valentine's Day, men's eyes betray their lovers for a chance to check you out.  I smiled. 

Michael found us a place to stand in the corner as we waited. I fumbled with my phone in my purse out of Michael's sight. I had pre-typed a message to Jen reading, "NOW". I glanced in my purse and directed my finger to hit SEND. 

Moments later, as my phone signaled a new text message had arrived, I pulled it out of my purse and gave Michael a disinterested shrug as I said, "It's Jen. I can get back to her later."

He smiled, "No problem. See what she wants." Damn. Jen was right! She told me it would play just like that. I held my phone casually so that if he wanted to, Michael could read her message. It was our preplanned, meaningless opening signal statement. "Could I borrow your red heels with the buttoned-bow over the toes?" 

Michael slid his hand over my thigh and glanced at the text message, reading Jen's words and then my reply. "Sure. But we are not home. Help yourself." 

What Michael did not know is that those words actually meant, "Yes, we are at the restaurant. You are free to begin sending emails to Michael."

Michael ALWAYS is looking at his phone. His business responsibilities require him to be on top of things, including any emails that might alert him to urgent information. So it was all too predictable that Jen's emails would be instantly viewed by him. 

But would he actually open them up? That was the big question. Our plan would fail if he did not. Jen assured me he would. I was less confident, reminding her that he would recognize the address from last night. She had laughed and said, "From last night, and this morning, and later this afternoon, and few dozen other times in between. That is exactly why he won't be able to resist." 

She was right. No sooner had the first email hit his phone than he got up to check with the hostess to see how much longer our wait would be, conveniently timed so that he could open the email and read it ... and view the pic Jen had sent. 

It was the pic of me sitting on the couch with my legs spread open and the cup of coffee steaming strategically over my pussy. No face. No way to identify me. His mind would register it as whoever he thought his secret admirer was. 

I pretended to be distracted by the lobsters awaiting their doom in the large fish tank directly across from me as he secretly viewed the pic and the caption beneath it: "My body is steaming hot for you baby. Happy Valentine's Day." 

Before he slipped his phone back in his shirt pocket and returned to my side he quickly tapped back, "Hot indeed! Happy V-Day to you too!!!!" Our plan was working! 

I smiled, "What's the news?" 

With a calm exterior he casually replied, "Something came up. Got to stay on top of it. But don't worry." 

I smiled, secretly thinking to myself thoughts at the speed of light. My thought, 'I bet something is up,' accompanied my naughty glance at the crotch of his slacks. My little devil chipped in,  And you know who he plans to stay on top of, don't you?!  

I pretended to be confused by his answer, clarifying my question. "I mean, what's the news on our wait time?" 

I took devilish delight in his awkward moment as he said, "Oh yeah... she said about ten more minutes."

I secretly passed along the updated wait time to Jen. 

The plan was for me to alert her the moment the hostess told us our table was ready. When we got to our table, I would tell Michael I needed to visit the ladies room. 

As we waited those last few minutes, it was easy for me to see that Michael's mind was somewhere else. Any other time I would have naturally attributed it to the job. But of course, I knew better at this moment. As his finger daringly traced a series of circles up my thigh, I shivered at the thought that the pic he had just viewed was fueling his lust at this very moment. Compared to how indecent that pic was, the placement of his finger was modest. 

Of course, the eyes in the lobby which were glancing at his finger on my skin did not have such a frame of reference. Their judgment more accurately interpreted the location and movement of his finger to be daring, indecent, even naughty. 

When the hostess announced to us that our wait was over and our table was ready, I sent that next message to Jen. By the time we reached our table and I was informing Michael of my ladies room visit, I heard his phone signal another email. I walked away knowing he would be devouring that email that arrived just on time.

I rushed inside the ladies room and excitedly shut the stall door behind me, sat down on the toilet and pulled my phone from my purse. I called Jen. She answered with a naughty sing-song voice, "Jen's email temptress service."

I laughed and blurted out, "It's working!"

"And you doubted me?" She giggled in harmony with the little devil on my shoulder. 

"So what did you send him just now?"

"An up close pic of your pussy with a caption that says, 'I know you must be out with our wife on this special night... touch her pussy as soon as you can while you are thinking of me... let me know when we are connected.' Pretty naughty, eh girl?!"

"Oh my god! VERY naughty! We both know what that means, right?" 

"Um hmm" Jen's naughty voice replied. "My only regret is that I can't be there to join him!" I laughed. Jen was amazing, even though she could be edgy. That she would tease me like that, insinuating that she would love to finger me as well, was her way of affirming me. It certainly worked for me. 

"Okay, I gotta go. Call me in about fifteen, okay?" I was confirming the next stage of our naughty plan.

Upon my return to our table, Michael had obviously already read and viewed the email from Jen. He stood up, inviting me sit next to him rather than across from him at the table. I easily was able to make out the outline of his erection bulging in his slacks. He was like a puppet on a string! 

As I slid across the warm leather of the seat bench, my panties hardly covered my ass as my skirt was only long enough to wedge between my lower back and the back cushion of the bench. It took all of three seconds for Michael to use one hand to slide a menu in front of me while his other hand eagerly moved between my legs.

I squirmed as I tried to read the menu, feeling his fingers in a rush, prying their way under the fabric of my silky, red, bikini bottom panties. Before I could even turn to the page listing the main entrées, his finger was worming over my main entrée. 

To anyone who happened to see us sitting there side by side, we appeared to be a sweet couple browsing the menu with casual expressions of interest on our faces. Of course, that was far from the truth of that naughty moment.




Average Wifey Files #20



Michael's eyes may have been pointing in the direction of the menu, but his mind's eye was riveted on that most recent email pic he had tucked in his shirt pocket. The close-up of that pussy was burned into his short-term memory. His right finger absent-mindedly moved down the menu with no fanfare. But it was his left finger snaking under my panties and between my folds that filled our booth with naughty and unseen energy.

My eyes were also scanning the menu, or at least appeared to be. But in reality, my mind was racing with the thrill of a plan coming together and a fingering that was primal and daring. 

Even as we ordered, Michael never pulled his fingers out of me. I was impaled by not one, but two of his fingers, bound to my seat as I spread my legs and invited him to stay. 

When Jen's preplanned called finally rang on my phone, I was almost ready to cum. I fumbled through my purse and grabbed my phone, Michael giving me a look mixed with unspoken lust and permission to take the call. 

"Hi Jen. Did you find them?" As I pretended to be asking about the shoes, Michael knew none the better. As his fingers enjoyed naughty access, his eyes got even more greedy and angled to see if my nipples might be flashing. His eyes were not disappointed.

I continued with the pretense of our phone call. "Ok, great. Well enjoy them. What's that?" 

I looked at Michael as I acted as if I were listening to Jen's question in my ear. I silently mouthed to him, 'I l-o-v-e y-o-u.' I clenched my pussy tight to punctuate that thought.

"Oh yes, we are having a GREAT time" I said into the phone. I winked at Michael and then closed my eyes as I spoke in a hush, "a really, great time."

That was the final signal for Jen. After I hung up, I moved my hand to his lap. I knew he was rock hard, but I did not expect the warm moist patch of precum that had soaked through the fabric of his slacks! He was on fire!

Our salads arrived as I ended the phone call with Jen. Both Michael and I ate our salads one handed. His fingers were inside me for so long, I inwardly giggled at the idea that they could even be wrinkled by now, like when you have been in the pool for a while. And I had a firm hold of his cock, applying pressure so that I could actually feel his heartbeat thumping against the palm of my hand. 

Then, Jen's final email hit his phone. He played it very well, dealing with the dilemma of wanting to see his latest, naughty, secret missive; but equally enjoying this extremely naughty and interactive fondling we shared under the table. 

I could sense that the wheels were turning in his head. How could he eat, finger, and handle his phone? How could he view the email with his typical nonchalant protocol with me right next to him, knowing that it may very well be one that he dare not allow my eyes to see? 

Of course, I already knew what that last email said. So, after squeezing him for all he was worth, I approvingly said to him, "You better get that sweetie." He took it as me being forever supportive of him and his job. He had no problem exploiting my perceived support to give him a chance to view what he hoped was yet another naughty pic and message. 

I let go of his cock and guided his fingers out of me. The grind of his wet fingers against my inner walls and pussy folds was unbelievable! I could only muffle a moan of pleasure, making him even more turned on. As he figured I didn't notice, he only pretended to take a quick glance at the new email. He then said, "I will be right back. Looks like I need to make a call." 

Of course, there was no call he needed to make. What he needed was privacy to view that email! He was literally shaking as he slid out of the booth to "go make his call." The combined effects of those emails and our foreplay had definitely driven him to a level of arousal that was physically overwhelming him. 

I wasn't sure where he went to "make his call." But I already knew what was about to greet him in that email. It was the finishing touch in our plan. Jen had sent one last pic of my body, with a glowing view of my pussy. But it was the message she included that would soon be rearranging the pace of dinner plans. 

Michael opened the email. His eyes devoured the pic of that body. Breasts gorgeous, "just like Kathleen's" he even thought to himself. That pussy... those hips. Then he read the caption...

"If this was the body with you right now, it would crave yours RIGHT NOW. In the parking lot, against the door of the car or even on the hood. Do it baby... do it to me... do it for me... do it to her."

Michael lustily smiled at his good fortune of choosing the parking spot I had pointed out rather than the one he would have chosen closer to the door. My selling point was "It would be easier for me to get out of the car without flashing the children if we parked in the corner there next to the brick wall."

The plan had amazingly come together. Before Michael had returned to our table, the waitress asked me if we needed anything. I smiled and beckoned her to come closer. "Woman to woman, I have a request."

Her polite, accepting smile supported her statement, "I understand. A Valentine's Day thing, right?" 

I giggled and said, "You have no idea how right you are, sweetie!" I drew my breath and then said, "We need either our dinners put on hold for about 30 minutes along with our table here saved for us,,, OR ,,, we need our check for just the salads and we will leave." I gave her a wink that assured her that it was indeed a request spurred by lover's lust and not any dissatisfaction with the food or service. I also asked that she play dumb when my hubby made the request, as if that were the first she had heard of it.

Her eyes glowed as she whispered, "Take your time. Dinner will be served when you two return." Her knowing nod and friendly pat on my shoulder made it feel as if she were in on our plan all along, even though I knew better. 

Michael returned and scooted next to me. His face was flushed with the hew of red that was present only when either he was raging mad or super aroused. He wasted no breath or words, with an almost abrupt tone and raw energy, he quietly said to me, "I have to have you NOW." 

I coyly questioned back, "Have me?"

He leaned in and breathed a puff of hot lust into my ear that I had not felt for years. It formed two, clear, distinct, sounds. Two syllables. Two words. 

"Fuck You."

I blushed. It was not conjured. It was the eruption of a days worth of planning and now an evening of successful execution. My reward was to be taken and passionately made love to by the man I dearly loved, who was aching to pour out an animal like lust all over my body right here and now! 

He motioned for the waitress. She was already in motion. As he fumbled to explain his odd request, his flustered words were of course easily interpreted. Jen had been right on the money. He indeed asked for one of two options. Our waitress had it covered, with the added detail he provided of a BIG tip for her accommodating his request. 

With a brisk pace that nearly had my skirt flapping in the wind, we made our way out of the restaurant and into the darkness of the parking lot. 

I felt my heart racing.

I felt my hubby lusting.

And I inwardly heard a sultry voice saying, "Have a hot fuck, baby." I wasn't sure if it was Jen's voice or that little devil. It really didn't matter. It was happening. 

With my skirt up, panties down, and Michael's cock pushing out of his slacks, I felt him bend me over the side of the hood of the car. My legs parted as my feet left the ground. In an instant, he was deep inside of my pussy. The last thing I remember seeing was a heart shaped box of chocolates sitting on the seat of the car while hearing Michael moan in my ear, "You are my Hot Little Fuck."

Hot indeed; perhaps needing to be amended to Hot Little  NAUGHTY  Fuck.



Average Wifey Files #21



 It might be helpful for you to read Files #11 and #20 before you read this one since this picks up where those left off. 




When Michael had rushed me out of the restaurant to the parking lot and ravaged my body, we both felt the heat of Valentines Day like never before. What we did in the passion of the moment as he bent me over our car made Cupid blush. It was absolutely amazing.

Yet, embedded in that experience was the undeniable reality that Michael did not know that those pictures were of me, my body. The next day, as I reckoned with the fact the he was turned on by pictures that he mistakenly believed were sent to him from a secret admirer, I realized I had a problem.

Of course, thanks to my dear friend Jen, the problem of his lustful eye fantasizing over that anonymous, naked body was only half my problem. The fact that after I first realized that Michael did not know it was me in the pics and I had continued the charade, well, that eliminated any possible claim I could make to being purely an innocent victim. 

No, I had listened to that little devil whispering in my ear and wandered down the slippery slope. Then, when I invited Jen to join the game, I basically had relinquished control. 

The facts were both disturbing and provocative. Michael, my dear hubby, was engaged in a series of naughty email exchanges with me, although he had no idea it was me. Then, I doubled-down and not only allowed Jen to coach me on a plan that might have made things hotter, but it also gave her a front row seat to what was happening. 

Although I had long ago come to trust Michael, I was not a fool. I knew he had a roving eye whenever a pair of breasts were nearby. I also knew that he had a naughty mind, although he had never embarrassed me. But this email exchange had migrated from fun and naughty to birthing perhaps a small sense of insecurity. 

Of course, Jen could hardly wait to hear about what had happened at the restaurant. Wednesday morning, the day after Valentines Day, she was sitting on my couch, sipping her coffee as she pumped me for information.

After giving her more details than I wanted to but far less than what she wanted to hear, I shifted gears from revelation to introspection. "Jen, I think I have a problem here."

"Ah Kathleen, just like you to worry about something that is so full of fun!" 

I shook my head and said, "Fun yes. But Jen, have I created a monster?" My eyes beaded into focus at her as I echoed, "Have WE created a monster?"

Jen laughed heartily. "If you want to define 'monster' as a husband who loves you dearly and unknowingly craves your body more than he realizes and treats you to some of the hottest fucking a wife could ever hope for, well then, yeah, I am happy to take credit for that!"

I chuckled, Jen's gift of helping me see the fun side of things in full bloom yet again. I hesitated, the words 'yeah but' ready to be spoken. Jen knew me all too well and could seemingly read my mind. 

"What Kathleen? What are you worried about?"

"Well" I stammered, "there is this little deal of my husband thinking he is emailing with a woman who is sending him naked, sexy pictures."

Jen laughed that contagious laugh yet again. "Well, isn't he?"

"Oh Jen, you know what I mean! He thinks it is somebody else."

Jen's sharp mind was pensive for all of half a second before she replied, "Kathleen, he hasn't initiated any of the email contacts. He only responds."

"How do you know that?" Jen's mocking sneer reminded me that I had given her the password to my email account so she could serve as my proxy during our naughty Valentines Day plan. She had complete access to all the emails. She knew as much as I knew. "Oh yeah, you are in on it, aren't you?" I smiled at my oversight.

Jen took another sip of her coffee and then spoke in a calculated tone, alerting me that her mind was plotting once again. "You know, Kathleen, there might be a way to leverage things in your favor AND quail your fears."

"I don't know if I want to hear this" I groused. Jen just giggled. So did the little devil perched on my shoulder. 

"Well, if you would rather just stew in your funk, fine by me."

I took the bait. "Okay. So what's your idea?"

"Well, what if this mystery woman, mystery to him of course, got a little too wild or demanding for his taste? What if this mystery woman spooked him enough to get him to cut things off. That would put an end to it. Would that make you happy?"

I pondered the concept. Although I was edgy about the fact that Michael was lusting for a naked body he did not know was mine, I was not entirely ready to completely forfeit the potential fun such naughty email play had provided. The little devil perched on my shoulder whispered in my ear,  Ask her. You know you want to. 

I heaved a big sigh. "What do you have in mind?"

That's all Jen needed. She was addicted to adventure. I knew that. Getting her involved in this was a risk. But she was such a good friend who I could trust. Perhaps too smart for her own good, she was also a master game player. I was glad that she was on my side!

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

"Of course" I nervously replied. This was the woman who I had allowed access to more of my personal life than anyone else. I had allowed her to slip behind the veil of my sex life. Just 24 hours earlier I had posed naked for her as she took pictures of me! Of course I trusted her ~ I  HAD  to. 

"Okay then" she said, "this is the plan." Again, not unlike the day before when she had concocted that amazing plan for Valentines Day, she chirped like a sparrow at sunrise as she laid out how we were going to take things to the "next level." It was genius if it worked. It was devious whether it worked or not.

Handing over my secret email account to her was one thing. But now I was complicit with allowing her to use that account to worm her way into our sex life. It was odd, but it made perfect sense to me. If her plan worked out, and I had confidence that it would, Michael would once again take me to levels of orgasmic pleasure I dreamed about even as he cut-off contact with whoever he thought was on the other end of the emails. It was definitely a win-win scenario!

That evening, after dinner, Michael & I were in the family room watching TV. I sent Jen a quick text that read, "READY".

Moments later I heard Michael's phone alert him to an email. I acted normal. He sat across the room from me, which allowed me to pretend I was watching TV. In fact, I was studying him. I smiled inwardly as I watched him shift in his chair to discreetly assure that I would not be able to see the screen of his phone as he flipped his finger across it. Emails about work were not uncommon in the evenings, but there was no doubt it was an email from Jen.

I tried my best to appear absorbed with the TV as he glanced my direction a few times. His finger tapped away on the phone for about a minute, then stopped. He had replied to the first email already.

I slid my fingers along the surface of my own phone hidden by my side. I flipped to my secret email account. I first looked at the email Jen had sent him. It was a pic she had taken of me yesterday as I sat naked on the couch. My legs were stiff, straight and extended, pressed firmly together. From the angle she took the pic, just the upper curves of my bare pussy folds were edging into view. The picture spanned from my ankles to the lower curve of my breasts. She had typed the caption, "Still hot for me, baby?"

My finger trembled as I closed that revealing pic of me, knowing Michael still had no idea it was my body. I tapped on the inbox. I opened the email he had just sent. I tried to maintain my composure as I read it, dealing with the tense reality that he was sitting in the same room as me utterly unaware of what Jen and I were up to.

"Was hard all day thanks to frequent visits to your email pics."

I softly shuddered at the thought of it. What wifey would not enjoy her hubby sneaking peeks of her during the day and getting aroused? Yet this twisted game perverted that reality into an odd mix of emotions leaving me feeling both admired and betrayed. 

While I tried to process Michael's message, I prepared for Jen's next email to follow according to the plan she had laid out earlier. It never came though. Instead, my Type-A, adventure-seeking friend who I called "trustworthy" had decided to take another route to the main objective. 

I expected the next email to Michael would be the first to hint at having second thoughts, eventually claiming that loyalty to his wife (me!) was holding him back from their naughty email fun. She would finally back him in a corner with one final "it's her or me" demand that would inspire him to put a stop to things. 

Imagine my surprise when upon hearing Michael's phone alert him to a new email, I opened up my "SENT" email and read what Jen had just sent to him. "Hey baby, I have a friend who wants to be naughty with you, too. Interested in seeing her?"

I sat helplessly by, no more than 15 feet from Michael, as he read and then replied to that email. I wasn't on pins and needles over what he was saying in his reply. That was a no-brainer. Of course he was going to say 'yes'. What was torturing me in that moment was the mystery of what Jen was up to; what Jen was planning; what Jen was going to email back to him.

She immediately replied to his email in which he invited this new "friend" to feel free to share also. I kept tapping refresh on my "SENT" box until I accessed her reply almost before Michael read it on his phone. 

Of course, outwardly I had to play as if I had absolutely no idea what was happening between them. So it was a monumental thing to keep from gasping out loud, let alone jump from the couch, when I opened that email and took a secret glance at it. In all caps was the caption "YOU LIKE?" resting on the upper border of another naughty pic. But, the naked body on display was not mine ~ it was Jen's!

She was standing in front of the mirror in their hallway that ran from floor to ceiling. Her back was to the mirror showing off her cute, little butt. She was twisted at the waist enough to give a nice profile of her perky breasts. The back of her head reflected in the mirror, not a hint of her face or identity was available. To the side of her shoulder she was holding her phone with which she had taken that pic. 

This was not what we had agreed to! The tension was unbearable on so many different levels. I felt like I was losing complete control of the situation. I was a prisoner of what I read in those emails bouncing between Michael and Jen, unable to react in any way that might tip him off. I had a front row seat to the spectacle of my best friend sending pics of her naked body to my husband! It was a overwhelming.

I kept tabs on the emails that proceeded to bounce back and forth between them. Remarkably, Michael never left the room; maintaining his naughty email dance with me in the same room. This was an additional layer of tension and torture for me. 

He emailed back, "Oh fuck baby, your friend is hot too!" I could only imagine the devilish delight Jen must have taken when reading his reply.

Her return email then offered Michael a full frontal view of her naked body, from the neck down, leaving her face and identity hidden from him. Jen's breasts were the same size as mine, 36c. But unlike me, she had very dark nipples that were small and distinct. I recognized the butterfly wings suggestively tattooed on either side of her pussy; something that Michael would not recognize, of course. The caption read, "Anybody horny yet?"

Michael's response amused me, since I was sitting right there in the same room. "Horny AND hard! How about you?"

I couldn't tell if Jen had taken the pics earlier in the day or was clicking away between emails until I looked at the next email she sent. It was another pic of her standing naked facing the mirror, a close-up from her breasts to her knees. There was no caption. But in one hand she held a sheet of paper just above her pussy with red lettering on it. It was difficult to read at first glance because the lettering was backwards due to the mirror; but I got it. "Horny AND hard for ME?"

I shuddered at the realization that she had to have just taken that selfpic in the last few minutes! She was at this very moment, naked and emailing with Michael! As I sat there helpless to only be able to watch silently!

When I read Michael's reply, I felt a ripple of wetness squirt deep within my pussy. I read his words several times, over and over, each pass giving me another layer of unspeakable pleasure. He had written this. "You make me hard, but I am horny and hard for your friend." 

"Your friend" of course, was ME! I cannot describe how flushed I was in that moment. If I were ever able to experience an orgasm due to words only in an email, this would be that moment! Michael had seen my naked body in those email pics. Now he was seeing Jen's naked body. And at the risk of rejecting her, he clearly had just stated that it was ME he wanted!

I stood from the couch so wanting to smother Michael with affection and kisses at that very second. But I could not. There was no way I could. He had no idea that I was in on those email exchanges. There was no way I would be able to cover my tracks in the state of arousal buzzing my body at that moment. I was so trapped!

So, as I stood from the couch, I quickly adjusted myself to make it look like I was casually headed to the bathroom. I shut the door. I stood in front of the sink and mirror with my eyes riveted to my phone as I awaited what was next.

Jen emailed back. This time though, the picture was not of Jen, but of ME. One taken the day before. My body exposed with legs spread wide open. There was a simple, naughty caption just below the pic. "Then go fuck her!"

Before I had a chance to process Jen's message, I heard the bathroom door crack open and in walked Michael. I fumbled to try and sneak my phone into my pocket as I reached to turn on the water, trying to behave as if I were about to wash my hands. 

There was a smile on his face that matched the cat who ate the mouse. I smiled nervously, my eyes avoiding his as I washed my hands. He did not say a word. But he took a step towards me as he loosened his belt and unzipped his slacks. 

I swallowed hard, playing hard to get as I tried to get ahold of myself. He pulled his polo shirt over his head as he stepped out of his pants puddled around his ankles. I had to look. I had to give in.

His jockey shorts clearly hugged the long outline of his hard, married cock, revealing to my eyes a spot of wetness the size of a golf ball that his precum had soaked into view. 

His hand extended towards me, curling a finger along the line of my jeans that followed the curve of my ass from one side to the other. I was on fire. I was melting away. 

He stepped closer and snuggled up behind me, sliding his hands around my waist and then smoothing down the front of my jeans right over my crotch and then between my thighs. His jockey shorts pressed against my jeans, his bulge positioned between my ass cheeks.

Then, in a startling and sudden jerking motion, he yanked my jeans down, tugging my panties down with them. Just as fast, my hands reached back and returned the favor, ripping downward as my thumbs tucked inside his shorts. 

He breathed heavy in my ear, looking over my shoulder at the vision of us in the mirror. His naked body behind me, as I stood with bra and tee still in place, but my jeans and panties wriggling down my calves, then kicked aside by my dancing feet. 

I heard the distant sound of his phone alerting him to another email. It was still in the other room. It might as well have been in another world at the moment. 

Then I heard the muffled sound of a text hitting my phone, tucked in my jeans pocket on the floor at our feet. 

I smiled at the realization that it was most likely Jen frantically emailing Michael, texting me, trying to get a read on the situation. Michael saw my smile reflected in the mirror. He leaned in and breathed heavy in my ear, "I am so hard and horny to fuck you right here and now."

Some say that when you experience a really, REALLY great fuck, you see fireworks or hear bells going off. For Michael & I, it was the sounds of emails and texts penetrating our phones, over and over and over.



Average Wifey Files #22



Hotel sex. I swear, sometimes I wonder what magic those rooms have to cast such magic, sexual spells over us. 

Michael & I were enjoying a getaway, week-long trip to the soft, plush, tropical paradise of Maui Island. After many trips there in the past, we had found our favorite place to stay. The backdoor to the condo opened up to the soft, white sands of the beach, providing us as near to a private beach experience as we could imagine. We loved it. 

But this particular evening was all about what happened in our room, not on the sands of the beach. We had just returned from a shopping spree and movie. Our dinner reservations were a couple of hours away. After dropping our bags and relaxing for a moment, I asked Michael, "Would you like to go for a walk?"

We loved walking hand-in-hand along the water's edge with the temperate ripples of the ocean licking our bare feet. Michael smiled and replied, "Actually, I have a little surprise for you. Come with me."

Michael took my hand and guided me to the bedroom and patted the corner of the bed. With a wink he said, "Wait here. I will be right back."

As I sat on the bed, I was facing the large- mirrored, sliding doors of the walk-in closet. Reflected back at me was the image of a very happy and relaxed wife. Wearing my short, wrap-around skirt and bikini top, my body was modestly on display. 

A moment later, Michael returned to my side with a small plastic bag in his hand. "What's in the bag?" I asked. Michael did not say a word, but instead gazed at me silently with that special look in his eye that usually accompanied great hotel sex. 

In that plastic bag were a couple of things that I would soon be introduced to with erotic fanfare. But first, Michael slid up on the bed and moved behind me. He sat with his legs spread on either side of me, snuggled up against me. As I sat there with my feet dangling over the side of the bed, I felt his arms wrap around me. 

Our reflections were staring us down as ran his hands over my legs, worming my skirt up so that his hands could smooth over the bare flesh of my thighs. I relaxed into him, my back fitting against his chest as my shoulder fit under his chin. His eyes gazed over my shoulder at our reflections in the mirror.

For a while, we just sat there as he brushed his hands over my skin and nuzzled on my neck and ear, each and every movement instantly played back to both his and my eyes by the mirror. His hands moved from my legs to my tummy, eagerly engaged in the warm, seductive friction that comes with the erotic pressure of skin on skin. 

With each pass his hands made from my legs to my tummy to my shoulders, he made sure to linger as he dragged his fingertips or the meaty flesh of the palm of his hands across my skirt and bikini top. He was slow and patient, as if this were the only activity on the agenda for the rest of the evening.

Michael is a big-time breast lover. I have learned to live with his obsession. Although he tries to be discreet in public, it is a rare moment when his mental inventory of all breasts within his view is not up-to-date. The fact that MY breasts are his favorite keeps my worries at bay. 

Since I was young, my breasts having developed before I was even 13, I have lived with the looks that most men get in their eye when they look at me. My 36c breasts include large, light, pink nipples that Michael calls "dazzling." Even after years of experience and learning to accept the lusty leers of men's eyes, I never have lost the thrill of Michael's looks. 

So, as my arousal was signaled by the ring of small goose-bumps that bubbled along the circumference of my tennis-ball sized nipples, I basked in the glow of that look in his eyes reflected in the mirror. The two sets of strings of my bikini top were tied snug behind my neck and back, which meant the fabric was clinging to the flesh of my breasts. 

The rhythmic sound of the waves rolling over the sand just outside our condo serenaded his hands' movements over my body. The large, glowing sun rested no more than an hour above the horizon, filling our room with a seductive shade of color that bathed our bodies. 

Then, after what seemed like an eternity of light petting and foreplay that teased both my body and my mind, he used his teeth to tug on the strings tied in a bow behind my neck. I felt the strings loosen around my neck and watched in the mirror as his fingers flicked them off of my shoulders. He slithered his hands down my side, delicately reaching for the strings which now dangled over my breasts and down to my waist. 

He pinched the strings between his thumb and index finger, rolling the strings as he pulled on them, creating a guitar-string like tension that dared to peal the upper edge of my top lower, curling it away from my breasts. His eyes watched intently in the mirror, as if it were the first time he would ever see my exposed breasts.

He playfully stopped pulling when the curl of my top matched the view of the setting sun dipping below the ocean's horizon, leaving a large, half-circle of warmth in view. As the glow of the sun incrementally diminished, the glow of my desire seemed to compensate as our images in the mirror never dimmed.

Then, with my breasts tantalizing to his eyes, his fingers parted my skirt. My legs instinctively spread open as the view in the mirror between my legs revealed to his eyes my white cotton panties with a large spot of wetness soaking through. He leaned in and expertly ran his hands along the upper edge of my skirt as he pulled it open and allowed it to fall to the side.

He groaned in my ear as he ran his finger along the damp impression of my married pussy tucked firmly against the fabric of my panties. I wriggled my feet so I could get my toes on the floor, allowing me to softly lift my bottom up in a clear invitation for him to expose me more. 

He wormed his finger back and forth just under the elastic of my panties, running his hand across the horizon of my panties, each pass drawing them lower and lower. As the final glimmer of the sun licked the horizon and dipped out of sight, my pussy emerged into plain view as he rolled my panties to my thighs. I bent my left leg at the knee, his hand in sync and sliding my panties down my knee, over my calf and over my foot. My other leg eagerly kicked them away.

The mirror revealed my glistening pussy, licked with wetness due to our foreplay. My breasts, with hardened nipples still only half exposed, matched the message. Michael's eyes crawled over my reflection in the mirror. My eyes delighted in watching his eyes crawling over my reflection in the mirror.

Then, he dared to excite me with a combination of words, thoughts and actions that would blend familiar with new to create a level of pleasure that he hoped would drive me to new levels of orgasmic ecstasy.

"Kathleen, do you remember the first time you ever saw my hard dick?" he breathed lustily in my ear. I stared at him in the mirror and nodded. He breathed hard again, "We were at the beach, roasting hot dogs over the fire. Remember?"

I nodded and closed my eyes as I exchanged the vision of our reflections in the mirror for my mind's-eye memory of that night on the beach. We were with our church youth group. He had kissed me for the very first time just moments earlier. As we stood by the fire, hot dogs dangling from coat hangers over the flames, I caught a glimpse of his hard dick pressed against his swim shorts. I blushed as he caught me looking. As my mind lingered, I softly said, "Yes, roasting hot dogs."

I opened my eyes as I heard the crinkling sound of the plastic bag. Michael breathed an even hotter puff of air in my ear as he groaned, "Yes . . . hot dogs."

As he said that, I caught my first glimpse of his hand moving away from the bag and towards my body. He had something in his hand. He lustily licked my ear and added, "a slick, juicy, hot dog." 

I instantly quivered. Perhaps because of the way he said those words. Perhaps because of the memory of that first, secret, curious glance at the bulge in his shorts. But it certainly was due in part to the fact that my eyes saw the reflection in the mirror of his hand holding a glistening hot dog!

I felt tension in my body as I watched the mirror reveal his hand moving the hot dog towards my pussy as he groaned seductively in my ear, "roasting juicy hot dogs as you eyed my hard, hot dog."

My legs remained spread. My pussy was dripping wet now. And in that moment, I felt something I had never felt in my life; the slippery tip of a hot dog sliding along the wet folds of my pussy! It was placid in his hand, just the upper inch or so poking out between his fingers as he nudged it between my folds. 

"Oh my god, Michael!" I gushed as I watched the mirror. I watched... and I FELT. I felt the soft tip of the hot dog in his hand, riding up and down my swollen, wet folds. I felt his rapid, hot breath rolling down my neck. I felt the laser of his eyes drinking in the view reflected in the mirror. 

"You remember that night, don't you baby?" 

"How could I forget?" I moaned as the idea of a hot dog against my pussy began to fade and the yearning for pleasure swelled. "I remember thinking that maybe someday I would get to touch it."

He moaned as I said that, rocking his cock against my back. With each pass of the hot dog over my folds, he daringly slipped it micro-inches deeper. When closed, my eyes envisioned his young cock that night long ago. When opened, my eyes bounced between the reflection of his naughty movements over my pussy and his greedy, eyes craving me.

I listened as he muttered, "I wanted you so bad that night. If I could have, you know what I would have done . . . " His voice trailed away as he transferred the message to his hand working that hot dog over my wet pussy and dipped it inside of me. Both of our eyes watched the dim glow reflected in the mirror of his hand sliding the hot dog so deep inside of me that barely an inch of the opposite end was poking out of my pussy.

Then, in a long, soft tug he pulled the hot dog out of me. He lifted it towards my mouth and for a naughty moment left it just inches from my mouth. I could smell myself. The mirror was daring me to lean forward. Finally, Michael's and my desires merged as my mouth opened and his hand lowered the hot dog to my lips. I softly sucked it, tasting my juices as the slippery skin of the hot dog slid in my mouth. For a few moments, he gently pumped the hot dog in and out of my mouth as I slurped on it. 

Then, as he pulled the hot dog out of my mouth, his hand turned my mouth to his and he eagerly kissed me deeply, his tongue diving over mine in search of as much my pussy flavor as he could find. As our tongues swirled, his hand with the hot dog reached behind him.

Again I heard the crinkling of the plastic bag. As our passionate kiss continued, my mind thought 'oh my god, there's more?!' 

Michael slid his wet mouth away from mine and returned to breathe hot in my ear, "I have one more surprise for you." His tongue whipped in and out of my ear a couple of times, creating a crackling sound that reminded me of the sounds of when I am so wet for his fucking. 

"Tonight" he whispered, "With your dinner I am ordering a salad..." He paused with a dramatic flare and then said, "... with extra cucumber."

I opened my eyes and looked in the mirror to see his hand moving once again towards my pussy. Even though the room was growing darker by the second, I did not need to see what was in his hand. His hint said it all.

There in the reflection of the mirror, dim light and all, I watched as he proceeded to introduce to my pussy a garden delight; a long (easily 12 inches or more), thick, fresh cucumber. 

What he did to me with that cucumber in front of that mirror was amazing. That he refused to allow me to experience an orgasm was both frustrating and even more amazing. As I arched my back for the umpteenth time chasing an orgasm, Michael pulled back and naughtily teased me saying, "Not yet; first I have to watch you eat it at dinner."

Dinner was wonderful. I sat in my top and skirt, completely on edge the entire time. And yes, Michael indeed ordered me a salad with extra cucumber. From the look in his eyes as I took certain liberties in the way I consumed the salad cucumber, I was certain his cock rivaled the hardness of that cucumber. 

When we got back to our condo, the hot dog and cucumber were spectators to the final act of an amazing evening of seduction and fucking. I have never been able to look at a hot dog or cucumber the same since. 

And just to be clear, I am NOT complaining.



Average Wifey Files #23



(I suggest that you read Files #11, 13, 20, 21 before you read this story if you want to understand the previous events that led up to this story.) 

*

Michael is smart. Jen is very smart. I am, well compared to them,  average.  So playing this email selfpic game with the two of them meant that I was out of my league, no matter how much I thought I knew what I was doing.

That Jen had pulled a fast one on me and injected a few pics of herself into my naughty tease of Michael should have been a red flag to me. But I was too caught up in the snap, crackle and pop of what I was experiencing to say "enough is enough." 

When your best friend emails pics of her naked body to your hubby from a secret email account and all you do is bask in the glow of hubby's horny lust; well you are asking for trouble!

The next day, trouble showed up on my doorstep before I even had a chance to pour myself a cup of coffee; and she was proud of herself for sure! As Jen crossed the threshold of my front door, Michael no more than ten minutes earlier having left for work, she smiled at me and skipped over the pleasantries and hit the ground running with, "Okay girl, fill me in right now! I could hardly sleep last night!"

"Good morning to you, too" I half-heartedly said as she marched straight to the couch and plopped herself down as if it were her throne. "Coffee?"

"Sure" she said with an absent-minded look in her eyes.

I shuffled my bare feet across the carpet of the living room and through the dining room to the kitchen. My frumpy appearance in just my robe was no less glamorous than Jen's yoga pants and tank top. I poured two cups of coffee, lowering my face over the rising steam and inhaled deeply, hoping to clear my head as I braced for my interrogation. 

As I extended her cup of coffee to her, she smiled and said, "So-o-o, did you two have fun last night?" Although I kept few, if any, secrets from Jen, I felt my face flush unexpectedly. "Kathleen! Are you blushing?"

I quickly gained my balance and boldness as I quietly responded. "Hmmm, let's see. My friend sends naked pics of herself to my hubby. That same friend instigates back-to-back nights of wild fucking for me and hubby. And as I sit naked under my robe, my body still oozing from last night, this friend asks me for details about it." I paused and glared at her; then with an incredulous tone queried, "Why would I blush?"

Jen got a good laugh out of that. She had a way of finding laughter in most things. It was what made her so disarming and charming for sure. I felt the edginess of my mood lighten. "Well, I suppose I might have pushed you a little beyond your limits."

"A little?! My god, Jen! What about your limits?"

She laughed again. "Oh Kathleen, don't be so dramatic."

"But what if he had recognized it was you?"

Jen crinkled up her face with a look that flashed 'not possible' as she quipped, "Yeah. Sure. I am worried about Michael figuring out it was me when he doesn't even recognize his own wife's naked body?" Again that laugh. Again I was disarmed.

She was right. My faceless, identity-shrouding pics had certainly baffled him. He seemed to have no idea it was my body on display. Jen both reassured and taunted me saying, "Sweetie. If he can't do the simple math, I am not worried about him figuring out the complex formula of my body."

She then giggled and teased me. "Of course, if ever the day comes that he gets a peak at those tattooed butterfly wings fluttering on either side of my pussy, we might have an issue!"

I nearly dribbled my sip of coffee down my chin as I flinched at her words. "I think we are safe on that one, right?" My words were confident, with just a hint of insecurity. 

For the next thirty minutes, I proceeded to give Jen a play-by-play of our naughty fun from the night before. It was arousing as I described in detail for her the timing and context of how her emails with Michael had created a bonfire of passion for us both. "I think what got me most though, was being able to read the email exchanges bouncing back and forth between you two. Once you veered away from our plan, I was so nervous at what might be next!"

"Yep, I thought that would be a treat for you." 

"But, Jen, you realize your naughty change means that my problem is not solved. In fact, it is twice as messy now. He thinks he now has two secret admirers, and no end in sight."

Jen smiled. "Well, you should be flattered that he chose you as the one he preferred."

"Flattered or relieved?" I quipped. 

Again that laugh of hers settled me down. "I swear, Kathleen. Sometimes I think you just like feeling the dark side of things!" 

It was true. I was not a risk-taking, adventure junkie who sought thrills over security like she did. I had my moments. But compared to Jen I was pretty tame. 

"And let me remind you. So far he seems to only reply to emails. He doesn't initiate contact. That has to ease your mind."

I nodded. It did. That he seemed to only react and not reach was somehow comforting to me. But only because I was intoxicated with the rush of pleasure that resulted from the naughty game we played. A clearer mind would have sensed more danger.

"Well, I have to go. But let me know when you want to play our naughty game together again!" Jen's appetite for adventure seemed insatiable at times. 

She got up and I walked her to the door. Just before she turned to leave, she kissed me on the cheek, then a second time on the lips. She did this sometimes just to ruffle me a bit. As she pulled back, she put her finger on my lips and slowly ran it down my chin and neck, daringly tracing a line where my robe gathered. As her finger crept to my cleavage she whispered, "I can't wait to help this adorable thing get her next dose of pleasure."

A few days later, I was out shopping in the mall. Michael was home watching sports. My phone alerted me to an incoming email to my secret account. I nervously fumbled to slide my phone out of my jeans pocket and check out what was going on. 

I read the message that Michael had just sent. It was short and sweet; "Alone and horny now." 

It was a reply to an email Jen had sent a few minutes earlier which simply asked, "Miss me, baby?" No pic. Just the simple text and question. 

My mind immediately began racing. What is she doing?! Why is he horny?! What am I going to do?!

I sat on a bench along the interior walkway of the mall. I stared at my phone. Wondering. Shivering. Repeatedly refreshing the "SENT" box of my email, as if I could intercept Jen's next message to Michael before he even read it.

Less than a minute later, her next email to him appeared. I opened it. I nervously made sure nobody walking by could see the screen of my phone as the email projected an image of my naked body with the cryptic caption, "Do you want me now or later?"

Although it wasn't true, I felt like everyone walking by me was getting a peak at my body. I felt awkward and exposed and completely caught off-guard.

Michael's reply hit my phone. For a split second I was tempted to wait until I got out to my car before reading it. Not a chance. I opened it. I read it. I shuddered as I quickly moved to the nearest mall exit. "I want you SO now!"

By the time I got to the car, Jen had pushed the envelope yet again. Her next email was naughty and clever. On the left was a pic of my body, on the right was a pic of hers. Both naked. Both faceless. The caption strategically positioned three words as such: "Sweet" under my pic, "or" between them, and "Naughty" under her pic. 

There were three answers possible. My heart was thumping louder than the music playing through the car radio as I drove out of the parking lot. My mind was tortured by the wait for Michael's reply. 

What would it be? "Sweet"... "Naughty"... or would he dare say BOTH?! 

I was only a few minutes from home when his reply hit my phone. Driving like the distracted maniac I was, I immediately opened the email. Michael's one word answer was leaping from the screen to my eyes... "SWEET"!

I gasped out loud, "Oh my god... he wants ME!" Looking back, it was a sad moment that reflected how insecure I wrongly was; how my trust unfairly doubted Michael's faithfulness and Jen's friendship. But in that moment, I was so overcome with a sense of affirmation that if I could have, I would have stripped naked as I drove that final block home so I could burst in to the house and be taken by Michael!

Of course, the reality of the moment was that I could not allow him to know that the entire email charade had been orchestrated by me and Jen. I had to pretend that I knew nothing of those naughty exchanges. I had to enter the house, knowing he was horny as hell, yet act as if I were returning home from a typical shopping trip to the mall. Casual. Uneventful. 

I set the bags down on the back entry way counter as I entered the house. I could hear the TV announcer at the far end of the house. I made my way in that direction. I was so excited, wondering what I might see when I finally curled around the corner to where Michael was.

Before I got there, I heard him yell "Hi Sweetie" from the other room. His choice of that nickname nearly brought me to my knees! 

I peaked around the corner trying to appear nonchalant and smiled at him, "I'm home." I quickly measured his appearance. Shirt on. Sweats on. Nothing remotely naughty. 

But before I could get too confused by what appeared to be mixed messages, he smiled back at me and patted the couch cushion next to him and with a twinkle in his eye said, "Ready to get off,,, of your feet?"

It was the way he said "get off" that tickled my ears. It definitely radiated sexual intent. Of course, I played dumb as I had to keep up the act that I knew nothing about the email exchanges, and thus his present state of arousal. 

Then, almost the very second my bottom slid across the cushion and snuggled up against him, his phone alerted him to an incoming email. I sighed heavy as if I were resigned to him having to look at whatever email his phone just announced; make believing I figured it to be work related. 

I wriggled up close against him and tucked my head under his chin, allowing him to be able to peak at his phone in private. It was killing me to think that he was reading something from Jen and I was not in on it. 

As he fumbled with his phone, I slithered my hand up his thigh and cupped his balls tucked between his legs inside his sweats. They felt full. I then slid my curved, U-shaped hand along the well-defined impression of his cock showing against his sweats. 

He moaned and whispered, "Oh fuck, Kathleen... I am so glad you are home." 

I wanted to say, "I know sweetie." But of course I couldn't. Instead I sighed back at him, "me too, baby."

I felt his hand form along the curve of my head as he gently pushed my face lower, begging for my mouth to please him. As his ass lifted up from the couch, I tugged his sweats down to his knees. He was so hard and stiff, his cock literally slapped back against his abdomen as I freed it from under his sweats, flicking a warm string of precum across my cheek. 

As I lowered my mouth to kiss just the tip, I enjoyed that first moment of pleasure when I could sip precum from his slippery cockhead. That was always such a turn-on for us both. But this time would be unlike any other. As my lips smacked against the moist coating over his fleshy, mushroom, I heard the CLICK of his iPhone camera!

I froze. His free hand brushed my hair as if to disarm my panic. With his cockhead pressing against my precum, wetted lips I mumbled, "Michael?"

"Yes, my Hot Little Fuck?" 

That petname always melted me. It worked this time too. My body just relaxed as my mouth opened wide, moving lovingly and slowly over the head of his cock. As I held just the full mushroom meat of his cockhead in my mouth, I sucked a little harder and swirled my tongue around the very tip. 

As I eagerly played, I failed to notice his hand lowering his phone to his side, moving into position to take yet another pic. This time, it was not from above with a view of the back of my head in his lap obscuring his cock and my face. It was at his side. His cock was in view. So was my face!

CLICK

I flinched when I heard it. This was something new. Michael had never done this before. I did not know how to respond. I felt flushed with carnal desire, yet at the same time I felt a little violated. 

It was ironic. Just a few days ago, I had enjoyed taking naughty, naked pics of myself and anonymously emailing them to Michael. Then, I had added Jen to the game, with the unexpected addition of more naughty pics of me AND then of her. It was a twist of Shakespearean proportions that I now was conflicted by another round of pics. Things were definitely feeling out of control!

I nervously moved up and down on Michael's dick. He set his phone down next to him and began to move his hands along my hips. He lustily lifted my sweater up until he could see my bra clasp and unfastened it. I felt the cool air on my bare back as my bra fell loose. I kept sucking. I kept bobbing up and down.

Then his hands, after reaching around and loosening my jeans in front, began to weasel my jeans down over my hips. I could feel my panties tugging lower as well. All the while I kept sucking. I kept bobbing up and down. 

After a few minutes, my body was still crouched in his lap and on the couch next to him. My sweater and bra were pushed up around my neck while my jeans and panties were shoved down to my knees. Between my cock-loving slurps I heard that now familiar sound again.

CLICK

I kept sucking. I kept bobbing up and down.

Then, with Michael's hands silently guiding me, I wriggled my leg free of my jeans. Then, lifting my mouth from his cock and turning my back to him, I swung my freed leg over his lap and sat on him, his wet hard cock laying flat between the crack of my ass. 

I felt his strong firm hands slide under my ass and lift me up. I was so out of breath that I was literally panting. I leaned forward on my toes and felt the tip of his wet cock press against my pussy mound from behind. Just before I lowered myself down, I heard it again!

CLICK

I felt his body penetrate mine full and deep. I reached down with one hand and played with his balls underneath me. With my other hand, I rubbed my own clit. I rocked up and down, my pussy bobbing up and down on his cock. Then again...

CLICK

I kept moving. I kept my pussy bobbing up and down. My fingers kept playing. I began to moan and gasp for air as our bodies slapped together over and over and over.

Finally, as Michael's hands reached around and snuggly groped my breasts, I felt the sudden and strong burst of warm shots of cum pumping up inside of me. It was the last thing I needed to trigger my own orgasm. As his cock throbbed, my clit pulsated. 

Moments later, I slumped back against him, my back against his chest with his cock still inside of me. It was one of those rare moments where you feel like two bodies have melted together into one.

My eyes were closed. So I did not see his hand reach around one last time with his phone, positioned with a view of my body sitting on him, still impaled by his cock. 

CLICK

I barely noticed. 

Then as I began to drift off, snuggled safely against him, I heard another sound from his phone that instantly jerked me from the edge of post-orgasmic bliss to the edge of the fear of the unknown!

I knew that sound. It was sound of an email being sent. Little did I know that whatever fears my sweet mind envisioned at that moment were a far cry from what was really going on!



Average Wifey Files #24



I had been out shopping with Jen. When she and I got back to our house, I had no idea Michael was home. I thought he was at the office working. Jen and I chatted for a few minutes and then she headed out. 

I opened one of the bags which had a cute little nightie I had purchased. I knew Michael would love it on me. As I thought about the fun of revealing it to him sometime later, I felt my body tingle. It was arousing to let my mind enjoy the fantasies of what that would be like.

I glanced at the plates of mirrored glass in our dining room. I framed my reflection with the nightie. Although I was wearing jeans and a top, my vision managed to envision my body with just the nightie covering it. I felt sexy.

As I sometimes would do when I felt aroused, I moved to the computer. This was when I would feel inspired to write a naughty story at Literotica. My mind wandered to the exciting fantasy of standing on a windblown balcony overlooking the ocean, wearing only my new nightie. Michael stood behind me, admiring how the setting sun silhouetted the lines of my body visible under the sheer, sexy nightie. 

I typed away, trying to record my fantasy thoughts. I worked in naughty elements of Michael fondling me as I leaned against the balcony railing, daring random strangers walking on the sidewalk four stories below to peek at us. There was also the couple on the balcony angled just across from us, making out but certainly aware of our presence. 

My mind took a naughty turn, creating a scenario where that couple focused on Michael and I, watching him touching me, revealing my body to their eyes. They eventually left their balcony, exited their room, and moments later showed up knocking at our room door. Before long, they were interwoven in my story and mind, sharing the erotic fantasy and forbidden pleasures. 

The nameless couple joined Michael in exploring my body. Three pairs of hands massaging me, erotically fondling me, moving over my body with designs of lust. As my writing progressed my fantasy, I removed my jeans and top. Then, after sliding off my panties and bra, I slithered the nightie over my body. 

I tried my best to describe the fantasy my mind was conjuring up. It was naughty to be detailing what it would be like to have not only Michael, but a random, anonymous, married couple also participating in our foreplay. 

Then the unexpected happened. 

Michael was home. I had no idea. 

Michael had slipped into the room behind me. I had no idea.

He finally broke the silence I mistakenly thought was my solitude with a soft-spoken, yet firmly worded question.

"What the fuck is that?"

I was so startled that my hands nearly jerked the keyboard into my lap as I spun around at the sound of his voice. 

I tried to say something, but words would not come out. In the few seconds, which felt like an eternity, I sat there with that stunned look on my face, Michael eyed both the computer screen and my body lightly veiled by the sheer nightie. 

He stepped to my side. His eyes were intense. His voice again pierced the silence as he repeated his question. 

"Kathleen. What the fuck are you doing?"

Tears began to well up in my eyes. My story-writing was a complete secret. Nobody, not even my best friend, Jen, had any idea that I did this. And now I was exposed. I fumbled to say something... anything.

"Just... um, a story journal." My attempt to somehow wrap a piece of the truth in a fallacious package of possible acceptance was a weak attempt at best.

"A story journal? What is that?" Michael's slings and arrows tone intimidated me. 

I broke down and began to cry. He knelt beside me, placing his left arm around my shoulder as his right hand took control of the mouse. He scrolled up to the top of my story. I shivered as I helplessly watched him read every word of it. 

My secret fantasies. My forbidden lusts. The unspeakable and naughty interactions. The details of how my body was pawed by the hands of strangers. My thoughts... omg, my secret thoughts flooding that computer screen and filling his eyes and mind.

The irony was tragic. In my story, it was ecstatic to be clothed in just that nightie and be exposed to others. In the reality of that moment, it was excruciating to be sitting there in my nightie and having my secret desires exposed to my husband.

I could only sit as he read my story. My apprehension increased as he heaved a heavy sigh or two along the way. There was no escaping my predicament. 

He read about how he exposed me to strangers; something he would NEVER do.

He read about how the married woman merged her body with mine, giving her hubby and Michael a vision of two married pussies erotically grinding.

He read about how the married man could not resist fingering our pussies, mixing our juices together.

He read the things that married couple said as they talked dirty about me, revealing the things they would like to do to me.

The longer Michael read, the longer I was left fearing what his disapproving reaction would be. He never removed his left arm that was draped over me. 

When he finally reached the last line I had written, he shocked me when he said. "Well, are you going to finish?"

I was so confused! I expected a firm rebuke and serious questioning of my fidelity. Dazed by his question, I replied, "Finish?"

"Yes. Finish. Are you going to finish it?"

I shook my head no, shame overwhelming me.

Michael stiffened. Leaned in and spoke assertively in my ear, "Yes... You... Will."

He let go of the mouse and lifted my hands to the keyboard. "Type."

I quivered as I reread the last two paragraphs which detailed how that married couple openly craved my body. My mind was struggling to regain my balance as I read what moments ago had been so arousing but had instantly become so shameful...

 She and I were laying on our backs on the bed, both with our legs split wide open, my head at one end of the bed and her head at the other end. Our pussies were pressed against each other, our slits perfectly aligned, making it convenient for her husband to slide his fingers up and down, back and forth, sharing our pussies with each pass. 

My hands felt like lead balloons as I tried to channel a finishing thought to my fingers. I struggled. I read the final line I had written...

 Michael kissed me deeply as the married man used both of his hands to twist his wife's clit and mine into position to actually rub against each other as they glistened with the wetness shared between our pussies. 

"Type" Michael said. "Finish what you started."

I swallowed hard and finally broke the seal on my stunted thoughts and petrified fingers. Michael watched as the words formed on the screen. With each new phrase, I thought I sensed in him a growing sense of arousal, dare I say surprising approval, of what he was reading.

I am not sure where that story was headed when I was alone. But, with Michael reading as I typed, it took on a life of its own that led to an amazing experience of two married couples fucking together, side by side. 

 I moaned in sync with the married woman, feeling Michael's cock pumping deep inside me with repeated thrusts of lust that were almost animalistic. I could also hear the sounds of her pussy being slammed by her husband. Faithful, yet utterly naughty, the four of us fucked side by side. 

At that point, Michael stood with his hard, married cock poking out of his jeans and slid it into my mouth. I sucked it with a blend of desire and relief that lapped his married meat with a sense of excitement that I had not exemplified in years.

By the time I typed "The End", Michael's stern countenance had melted into a flow of molten lust that spilled all over me as his cock exploded in my mouth, his full load of cum dribbling down my chin, over my breasts, and onto my nightie. 

It was the greatest surprise ending any of my stories had ever delivered. FOR ME.



Average Wifey Files #25



Kathleen decided to break the mid-afternoon, friendly, relaxing chat over their coffees at her kitchen table with what was making her heart race. "I found something in Michael's desk drawer yesterday when I was looking for the checkbook."

Jennifer lowered the cup from her lips, wide-eyed and curious. Everyone admired Michael. He was charismatic and successful, yet incredibly humble and real. He made everyone feel like they were his best friend. And, he was never shy about reminding people how much he adored Kathleen, his wife. "What did you find, Kathleen?"

Jennifer's mind was racing at the possibilities in the brief seconds of silence before Kathleen answered.

"A journal."

"A journal?"

"Yes. A journal that he started about six months ago."

Jennifer shifted on the edge of her seat, inquisitive beyond measure. "Six months ago? What did you read? What does he write about?"

"Oh Jennifer, it is x-rated." As Kathleen's eyes dropped, Jennifer's mind raced even faster as the silence hung in the air; silence as Kathleen's mind wandered to the text of that journal for a brief instant; secretly replaying those words in her mind without a hint of the contents revealed to Jennifer.

 ...watching Kathleen on the balcony this morning overlooking the beach, admiring her from behind. What an amazing ass. And the way she stood there in her yoga pants and halter top, it was as if she were inviting my eyes, anyone's eyes, to devour her. As if her sweet married pussy was saying, "snack time anyone?" Even though I know her sweet innocence would never make that offer to anyone but me, I couldn't help but think about it. Knowing her breasts were braless under her top... perhaps the bottom falling far enough away from her tummy that someone walking below could look up, and get a peek of the lower curve of those fucking tits. Was a great moment; inspired a great fuck of her moments later! 

"By x-rated you mean, like fantasy stuff, or..." her voice going quiet in search of a discreet conclusion to that sentence. The awkward silence allowed her to borrow time before saying, "... or real life stuff?"

Jennifer was studying Kathleen for any clues to her mood in light of this discovery. What did she know? What was she feeling? 

Finally, Kathleen spoke softly as if she were about to sing a lullaby. "I want to say fantasy stuff, but there are plenty of thoughts in there that blend the two; kind of blur the lines between what is real and what is fantasy."

Jennifer waited, unsure how exactly to interact with her dear friend in this bombshell of a moment in her life. Jennifer wanted to be supportive, but she was very apprehensive. This was a very dangerous topic. She was unsure how exactly to proceed. She certainly could not appear to be too eager for sordid details.

Kathleen continued, almost whispering. "He is very explicit... very graphic." Again her mind secretly returned to the trail of his words.

 ...yesterday I wondered what it would be like to stand behind my lover, hands on her hips, nuzzling at her neck as I peel her shorts open...her flesh feeling just like velvet as my hands smooth lower between her panties and pussy...

Jennifer wanted to know more. She needed to know more. There was too much on the line; too much unknown. She could feel her heart beating like a village war drum thumping out a warning of impending conflict. 

Kathleen's words were cool, almost calculated, as she muttered delicately, "Jennifer, I know things I wish I didn't." Looking up and directly into Jennifer's eyes Kathleen emphasized the point; "naughty things."

Jennifer felt her body silently fighting off a shiver or two as Kathleen's words hung in the air. Both of them sitting at the table. Both of them curling their hands around their coffee cups laying flat on the table, as if warming themselves around a fire.

...smiling as I watched her in our shower; her naked body standing where Kathleen does; her creamy white flesh glistening as the water danced on it; those huge pink nipples topping her jiggling 36d tits almost identical to Kathleen's 36c tits; shaving her pussy as I watched, my mind bouncing back and forth between lusts for my lover and Kathleen...I was torn, I wanted to fuck them both...so I did. Well at least in my mind I did. 

To Jennifer the 23 seconds of silence before Kathleen spoke again seemed like hours because Jennifer was tongue-tied, stunned in her paralysis, shocked by this revelation.

Finally, Kathleen said, "He has no idea that I have read it."

Jennifer had too many questions flooding her mind. How much have you read? What does it say? Are you going to tell him? Has he made confessions? What the hell are you going to do?! 

Kathleen easily sensed her close friend's turmoil. "Perhaps I should stop."

Jennifer immediately shook her head no and said, "It's okay Kathleen. I am your friend. I want to support you no matter what."

"No matter what?" Kathleen echoed, her blue eyes smoldering with a fiery purpose.

Jennifer swallowed hard at the potential implications of her answer, "Yes Kathleen; no matter what."

Kathleen's voice was calm, but her body was rigid. Her immodest, wear-only-at-home, sheer-white, yoga pants painted her body from waist to ankles with a layer of fabric that seemed to merge with every inch of her flesh.

"He wrote about me, and other women. Some things are confusing because it is like he blends me and the other women together into one." 

...she sat adjacent to us at the restaurant table wearing a provocative sweater; plunging V-neck that showed enough cleavage to probably give every guy in the place a hard-on! Then our busty, young waitress, who pinned her name badge right on her left breast daring my eyes to search for her name AND calculate the size of her nipples, asked for my order...club sandwich with V-neck, waitress, Kathleen, my lover would have been perfect at that moment...I looked across the table and mentally fucked her as I finished off my sandwich. 

Jennifer was hanging on every word, feeling as if she were being drawn closer and closer to the murky danger lurking in Michael's journal. Invisible shivers inconveniently brushed her tee against her nipples, causing an ever-so-slight delightful sensation.

"He wrote about how he secretly practiced techniques of arousal on me as if I were her."

 ...my lover stepped from the shower into my arms. I toweled her off, then walked her to the closet, plucking one of Kathleen's tank tops from a hanger and had her slip it on...laid her on our bed...my lover in Kathleen's top...my lover in Kathleen's place...was fun to explore how I could use that top to arouse Kathleen later, how to tease her, how to play with her... 

Kathleen's tank top dipped lower at the collar as she leaned forward to take a sip of coffee, barely lifting it from the table as if it held the weight of the world. Normally completely at ease around Jennifer, Kathleen felt a bit self-conscious at the realization that her 36c breasts and cleavage were tantalizingly close. 

"He wrote that when he sucked my breasts, he floated to the moments he was suckling at the milky flow of another woman's breasts."

Jennifer felt her aroused nipples tingling, stimulated by the shivering tee and now, now these erotic words and thoughts. 

"He wrote about a time he . . ." and Kathleen's voice tailed away, leaving the sentence hanging in the dead silence.

"A time he WHAT, Kathleen?" Jennifer's voice had a tone that almost sounded desperate.

Kathleen continued, "... a time when he touched her intimately while I was in the other room."

...my lover was sitting in the living room chatting with Kathleen when I got home today; I always love seeing them at the same time. So fucking hot. Then Kathleen got a call from her sister and stepped into our bedroom to talk privately...took measure of the moment and invited my lover to follow me into the kitchen...could hear Kathleen's voice down the hallway...lust consumed me...backed her up against the kitchen table...slid my finger down her shorts and under her panties...Kathleen's voice the background soundtrack...

Jennifer felt a thud of shock fall upon her like the weight pinning her coffee cup to the table. She sat motionless. Nipples tingling. As she nervously squirmed in her chair, her soft cotton shorts were pressed so tightly against her pussy that the fabric of both her shorts and panties were diving between her folds. A kaleidoscope of emotions were in full bloom. She tried to find words that would put Kathleen at ease while feeding her own rabid curiosity about what was in that damn journal. "So, you know this woman?"

Kathleen's eyes were piercing as she said, "I think I do."

...amazing how my lover knows exactly what I like; as if she and Kathleen compare notes...doggie-fucking her pregnant cunt...

Jennifer did not want to appear ghoulish, but she had to know! Trying as hard as possible to put it politely, she dared to be direct. "Kathleen, who do you think she is?"

Jennifer's heart was beating hard enough to make her milk-filled breasts jiggle.

Kathleen chose her words very carefully. "I think, , , I think it is a woman we both know."

Jennifer wanted to scream, but did her best to endure Kathleen's hesitant and almost cryptic cadence with a sense of poise. "WE both know; by 'we' you mean you and Michael?"

Kathleen shook her head and said, "No, I mean YOU and I."

If awkward silence could fill a room to the point of blowing out the walls like an explosion, the entire house would have been leveled. Jennifer knew she had to ask. 

She had to ask because she had to know.

She had to ask because Kathleen was obviously demanding it. 

As she tried to summon up the nerve to speak, Jennifer could not help but admire Kathleen's composure. She inwardly marveled at how calm she appeared. 

"Who is it, Kathleen?"

"Are you sure you want me to tell you?" 

Jennifer nodded yes.

"He never uses her name; just calls her 'my lover'."

Jennifer managed a secret sigh of relief.

"He seems obsessed with making her and I into one. A single body for the object of his secret lusts."

Jennifer hung on every word.

"He wrote erotic details of her body, of my body, as if we were inseparable in his mind."

...her meaty folds are so full, just like Kathleen...when I suck those cunt-lips, if I close my eyes I have no idea which one it is - my lover or Kathleen? And when she rolls her huge pink nipples over my precum-smeared cocktip, it is impossible to feel a difference...

Jennifer trembled at Kathleen's word foreplay leading up to the moment of climax.

Kathleen was not aroused, but she felt the rush of competition, of jealousy, of the rage to be Michael's only love. She was desperate to best this other woman, to defeat this rival. What was inside of her was unleashing an unhealthy mix of adrenalin and sexual desire.

"Things may never be the same if I tell you."

Jennifer's eyes had the look of terror as she absorbed those words.

"You may never look at Michael the same; you may never look at ME the same."

Jennifer's mind and body were twisted to the limit, about to snap if Kathleen were to screw another phrase of foreplay into the moment. 

...almost a fucking curse now; every time my lover is in our home, I see her and Kathleen as one fuckable delight; two pussies but one fuck; two sets of delicious tits but one long grope; two mouths for my one cock... 

Jennifer knew. She fought it with all her might, but she knew. She knew who the other woman was. 

Kathleen waited, studying Jennifer's countenance. Deliberating if she should really go through with this daring unveiling. Trying to conceive what might follow, what might come of such a betrayal of secrets. 

Jennifer's muffled voice, her head now downcast and avoiding eye-contact with Kathleen, pleaded with the meekness of a lamb. "Tell me, Kathleen. Say it."

Somewhere in an office miles away Michael was finishing up his work and ready to call it a day, utterly clueless to what was about to be birthed in his kitchen. By his wife. By his lover. By Jennifer. 

With an assassins steel nerve, Kathleen finally spoke. "Jennifer."

...my lover surprised me today. Stopped by the office to say 'hi'...wearing a pair of Kathleen's shorts and tank top. Shut the office door and fucked her right there on my desk, never removing Kathleen's shorts or top...was a double treat... 

Jennifer's heart skipped a beat at Kathleen's pause, her skin crawling as her mind frantically tried to discern whether this was a dramatic pause or a complete statement. Her fears of what was written in that journal giving way to an even greater fear; what was happening?

Kathleen repeated, "Jennifer . . . 

Another pause. Jennifer twisting in the wind.

". . . Jennifer, I need to know."

Another pause, nearly driving Jennifer to leap from her chair and fall at Kathleen's feet. 

"... I need to know for sure. I need you to tell me."

Jennifer nearly convulsed. Kathleen possessed a laser-like focus. 

"I need you to stop." Kathleen paused. Jennifer held her breath bracing herself. She wanted to run away, but she felt naked and exposed, unable to find any shelter.

Kathleen continued. "I need you to stop and listen to me carefully."

Jennifer could not fight back the tears any longer. Her moist panties splitting her pussy were no longer amused. Her ripe nipples no longer tingled, but ached. 

Kathleen then said, "Jennifer, you are the one I have trusted more than anyone."

Jennifer began to weep. Kathleen's eyes now tearing up at the incredible outpouring of emotion displayed by Jennifer. 

"I need you now more than ever."

Jennifer heard those words, but was confused to interpret them. "Need ME?"

"Yes. You."

Jennifer stammered, "What do you mean?"

"He cannot know what I know. I must have an alliance with you. A joining of forces to sleuth out the truth from him."

Jennifer tried to collect her thoughts. Was she hearing Kathleen right?

"He cannot know what WE know, Jennifer. We have to work together as a secret team. We need to double team him, as one, yet separately."

Jennifer tried to shake the confusing buzz in her mind. "Work together ... separately?"

"Yes. Exactly." Kathleen glowed with a sense of quiet confidence.

Jennifer cleared her throat, wiped her eyes, and dug deep to ask, "The other woman, Kathleen. You said WE know her." 

Jennifer let the statement hang in the air, hoping Kathleen would pick up.

"Yes. We know her. But, WE must find a way of luring him into admitting it."

Jennifer felt as if she were caught in a multilayered web of deceit. The more her mind struggled to find a way of escape, the more bound up she became. 

"We will fight fire with fire. He has formed this perverted, erotic image of us as one..."

Again Jennifer dangled in agony at another of Kathleen's well-placed pauses.

"... and now WE shall counter that with our own twisted alliance, the two of us working as one on him."

Jennifer gave up trying to figure out what Kathleen knew... what Kathleen meant... what Kathleen was doing. She was collapsing with a fatigue that left her in a puddle of submission.

"Can I trust you, Jennifer?"

Jennifer was utterly bewildered; just about everything Kathleen had said to her there at the kitchen table seemed unnerving. Even this question was robust with self-incriminating potential. But Jennifer was beaten. She could only melt to the will of her dear friend, no matter how ravaged she felt. 

"Yes, Kathleen."

A calm smile crossed Kathleen's mouth. "Good. And you will have to trust me as well. You do understand that, don't you?"

Jennifer nodded yes.

"Good. Then I would like to get started. Go ahead and help yourself to our shower. I believe there are things in my closet you can change into, right dear?"

Jennifer twisted. "I don't know. Perhaps?"

Kathleen stood up and stepped next to Jennifer, reaching out to stroke her hair. "Perhaps indeed."



Average Wifey Files #26



*NOTE: You would be well served to read Part 1 of this story before reading this. 

*****

 ...TEN MONTH'S EARLIER... 

Michael cleared his throat as his eyes twinkled above that familiar, sly smile creasing his lips. Everyone seated around the conference table turned their attention to him.

"Well first of all, let me say 'thanks' to each and every one of you. Success requires a team effort. Each and every one of you have contributed to making this a great team. I wish I could reward you all with an early retirement. But I don't think I could kick you out of here even if I wanted to!"

The conference room rippled with loyal, authentic laughter. When Michael's close friend, right hand man and former business rival, Brian said, "You can kick me," the room exploded with laughter. Three years earlier, Brian had joined the team for 'a few months' and never left, even though he had more money than he knew what to do with. 

Michael playfully poked Brian in the arm as if he were trying to push him out of the room as he playfully eyed others around the table and joked, "...said the temp who never went away!" 

Brian laughed, further fueling the good morale in the room. 

"But seriously, I don't know if I can adequately express my gratitude and respect to you all for what you have helped to accomplish here. Running a small business is tough. Succeeding is even tougher. But when a business can knock it out of the park, well, that takes a great team. Again, thank you to you all!" 

Before he could say another word, Michael's glassy eyes and endearing transparency lit the fuse to a spontaneous round of applause that was as warm as a midsummer's sunset. The room glowed with mutual admiration and respect.

Michael spoke up to curtail the uncomfortable expression of praise, "And Kathleen and I wanted to convey to each of you our heartfelt appreciation. So, this year we want to give each of you something in addition to a year-end bonus. So, in addition to that bonus, which by the way I hope you find to be a pleasant surprise, we have arranged for each of you, your spouses and children, to join us for a few days of family fun at the Seaside Lagoon Inn & Suites in April. We have reserved the hotel and recreation accommodations for our private use during the four day stretch of Monday to Thursday during the week between Palm Sunday and Easter. We are shutting down for those four days. Those of you with kids will be free from the school schedule that week. We hope that each and every one of you can join us."

The hugs and tears and expressions of affection shared amongst everyone in the room following Michael's announcement were more befitting of family greetings at a reunion than a response to the final item agenda addressed in a board room. 

That evening at the dinner table, Michael related to his dear wife, Kathleen how the announcement had been received. With tears in her eyes she smiled at Michael and said, "I am so proud of you." 

He smiled and in his typical, disarming manner said, "You always look so sexy when you smile with pride."

Kathleen giggled, feigned an even wider smile while playfully fingering and freeing the button on her blouse balanced between her lovely 36c breasts, "You mean THIS smile?"

Michael winked, "You are getting warmer."

Kathleen peeled open her pink cotton top after popping open the remaining buttons.

Michael grinned, "You are getting hot now."

As she let her bra fall away, Michael's eyes devoured the vision of her bare breasts, that smooth, creamy, white flesh capped by large, pink nipples begging to be suckled. 

---

Four months later, Michael and Kathleen were basking in the joy of the company getaway. Families were active. Business colleagues were at ease with each other. The sheer numbers, 13 management team members, their spouses and children amounted to a gathering of about 50 people. New relationships were formed, established relationships were strengthened, foundations were laid for future relationships. 

Then it happened; it was the second evening of the four-day gathering. Kathleen had invited her dear friend, Jennifer and her husband, Brian, to join her and Michael for a sunset walk where the surf meets the sand. It had been Kathleen's suggestion that Michael get Brian on board years ago; a suggestion he acted on and that had helped jumpstart the business into an amazing growth spurt. 

Even when their husbands had been business rivals, Kathleen and Jennifer had remained friends dating back to their college days. It was thrilling to both wives that their husbands were now working together rather than in competition. 

As the two couples walked in the sand, the cool breeze blowing off the water died down and all but disappeared as it would often do as the day faded into evening. Jennifer unzipped her jacket she was wearing. Kathleen removed her sweater, flipping it over her shoulders and tying the long sleeves in a loose knot around her neck.

Michael walked hand in hand with Kathleen as Brian did the same with Jennifer. The dialogue was pleasant and uneventful as they marked time by the position of the sun dipping closer and closer to the blue line of the horizon. 

The moment it occurred, Michael almost froze. It was totally unexpected. He certainly was not looking for it. It just pounced on him without warning. The sun was almost touching the horizon as it dangled behind Brian and Jennifer. It left nothing more than a silhouette of their bodies for a moment. 

His sunglasses disguised the intentions of his eyes as he couldn't help but notice the figure of Jennifer's breasts. Her unzipped jacket had fallen open, peeled to either side of her breasts. The swim top she was wearing was so snug against her flesh, the lines his eyes traced easily imagined her as topless. The form of her curves topped by erect nipples was a brief but arousing vision. 

Three different times he had allowed his eyes to linger and lust, even as he walked hand in hand with Kathleen. Even as Brian walked hand in hand with Jennifer. 

Michael had been faithful for years following a brief period of corruption early in their marriage. Her willingness to forgive and forget, accepting him and moving on with their lives had been a life-changing experience for him. This was not supposed to happen. He only had eyes for Kathleen. Yet, there he was secretly devouring the vision of that silhouette of what appeared to be Jennifer topless and perky beyond measure. 

Later that night back in their private room, Michael was eager to fuck his wife. She attributed his horny impatience to the surroundings and satisfaction of their successful efforts. As he greedily put his hands on her head and emphatically guided her mouth to his throbbing cock, she had absolutely no idea what his mind was entertaining.

His eyes saw her mouth taking his cock. But his mind, his naughty mind couldn't help but recall the image of Jennifer's body backlit by that setting sun, the way her breasts appeared exposed to him. 

When Kathleen fell back on the bed and welcomed his cock inside of her, Michael did not see his wife's naked body spread open beneath him, but rather that vision of Jennifer. The perfectly erect nipples that jiggled atop her breasts with each step; firm, even fuller than Kathleen's. 

Then, at that moment when he felt his balls percolating and his cock ready to pulsate, he quickly pulled out and aimed his spurting cock at those breasts. The splatters of his cum washed over Kathleen's breasts ~ although his mind painted a different vision. As Kathleen moaned in delight, Michael could almost hear his cum spurts slapping Jennifer's breasts, smearing over her nipples, eliciting moans of pleasure from her mouth.

---

The next afternoon, Kathleen and Jennifer were sitting beneath an umbrella on the patio next to the pool. Michael was socializing, making sure everyone was having a good time. Whether by design or fate, he eventually was engaged in a conversation with Aaron, his quality control manager, while positioned about 15 feet behind Kathleen and Jennifer. 

His ears heard the sounds coming out of Aaron's mouth, but he was not listening. His mind was too focused on what he saw. Again, Jennifer's breasts seemed to be screaming at him, daring him to give them attention. 

When Aaron finally took a breath, Michael politely said, "Sorry buddy, but I need to check on something with Kathleen." He stepped towards the girls, his eyes riveted on Jennifer's jiggling breasts as she giggled at something Kathleen had just said. He felt his cock twitching, revisiting those visions of the sunset walk and later cumming on Kathleen/Jennifer's tits the night before. 

"Everyone seems to be having a great time," he said to Kathleen. 

Kathleen nodded as Jennifer blurt out, "Michael, this is just amazing! Thank you so much!"

What he wanted to say was,  ...no, thank YOU Jennifer. Your tits are what are so amazing."  But of course, he held those words deep inside as he smiled and said, "Believe me, Jennifer, the pleasure is ALL mine... and Kathleen's, of course."

Jennifer giggled, "Of course!" Kathleen giggled along with her, as if the two of them shared an inside joke that Michael was left on the outside looking in. The irony extended his smile for a moment longer. 

"So, are you and Brian up for another sunset walk this evening?" 

Before Jennifer could reply, Kathleen said, "Did you forget that I am leading the children on a 'Little Mermaid' scavenger hunt after dinner?"

Michael grimaced as if pierced by a knife in the back, "Wow. I did totally forget!" Then with an expression of 'please-no' in his eyes he pleaded with Kathleen, "Please tell me I did not volunteer to help out with that event."

She giggled and let him off the hook with a light slap on the wrist quipping, "Well, no you did not volunteer; and although I would welcome your help, you certainly don't HAVE to be there."

Even though she emphasized that word "have" with the non-verbal messaging power all wives possess, Michael chose to take her words at face value and gave a sigh of relief. 

Jennifer giggled. Kathleen did not.

After dinner, less than an hour before sunset, Kathleen gathered the children for their adventure. 

After dinner, less than an hour before sunset, Michael studied the actions of Brian and Jennifer from afar. He discreetly analyzed them; together or separate, coming or going, opportunity or no access?

Michael's sly smile turned a bit naughty as he noticed Aaron reeling Brian into a conversation. Jennifer knew Aaron's style all-too-well and expertly began slipping away to leave Brian on his own with the wordy time-bandit. 

Michael quickened his stride. He calculated the exact line he needed to take to cross paths with Jennifer in an effort at appearing totally random and by accident. As he crossed in front of her he flashed a smile at her and said, "Off to my sunset walk."

Jennifer glanced over her shoulder at Brian and Aaron engaged in some business-centric conversation. She offered Michael a friendly smile and asked, "Want some company?"

Michael tried to appear as nonchalant as possible while his mind raced to find the words that would fit the image he was trying to display and in no way betray what his lusty eyes were craving. "Sure. You and Brian?"

He knew what she was going to say. But he had to put up the act. Jennifer softly and politely pointed at Brian and Aaron and said, "Um, I don't think so." Her giggle was innocent; or so Michael would have thought on just about any other day in their past. But on this day, at this moment, his mind was interpreting all things Jennifer with a different filter. A lusty filter. A naughty filter. A dangerous filter.

Casually and appearing innocent, Michael waved his hand in front of him inviting Jennifer to join him. Together they stepped away towards the shoreline. 

Jennifer was wearing a pair of shorts and a long-sleeved cotton tee. The light breeze pushed over the water at them directly. It forced the fabric to hug her frame. His eyes did not miss an inch of her curves. His mind merged the pervious nights images with the present vision. Inch by inch his mind constructed the perfect form of her breasts, exposed in the glowing orange sunlight of the setting sun. Full, supple, inviting nipples.

Jennifer smiled and spoke what Michael heard as,  "Kathleen is great with those tits, isn't she?" 

Michael fought to clear the fog from his mind as he quickly replayed Jennifer's question... more accurately the second time so that he heard "those kids" instead of "those tits."

"Yep, she definitely has a good feel." Michael's answer was caught between his reality and his fantasy. 

Jennifer found his reply a bit awkward, thinking that perhaps he had had perhaps one too many glasses of wine at dinner. She smiled and furthered the topic.  "I think a smooth cunt is a great idea." 

Michael again tried to shake off the lust-laced errors in his mind as he struggled to find the words Jennifer really had just spoken, finally finding "scavenger hunt" falling into the place of "smooth cunt".

It was this moment of brain-dazed, lust-dusted, fantasy-induced, fuzzy thinking that gave birth to a sentence that would change everything. It was as if a portal to impurity was about to be opened. A gateway to forbidden lusts discovered. A threshold into the world of secret desire about to be crossed. 

Before he even recognized the words crossing his lips, words fueled equally by Jennifer's questions, his lust-laced faulty hearing, and his own secret desires, Michael gave his reply. What he meant to say was ...yes, even I love a good scavenger hunt.  But that is not what he said. 

"Yes, but I love a good smooth cunt."

His words hung awkwardly in the air. Jennifer did not respond. Michael could not pull them back. Both stayed silent, walking slowly in the sand, water washing over their feet.

The next five words spoken were not the spark that led to the fire. The spark was Michael's lust-driven words that flicked from his tongue to Jennifer's fertile ears. 

But the next five words spoken were the fuse fed by the spark, burning brightly towards the inevitable explosion ahead. These were daring words. These words were both utterly unexpected and deeply coveted. These words both crept and lept up between them. 

Jennifer's mouth opened. She uttered those five words.

"I have a smooth cunt."

Back on the patio, Kathleen led the children on a scavenger hunt.

Back on the same patio, Brian and Aaron were solving the world's problems.

But here, on this soft, cool, sea-soaked patch of sand dimly lit by the afterglow of the setting sun, a finger dared to slither between the flesh and elastic band of a pair of cotton shorts. Here quivered the smooth, silky folds of a married pussy like the nervous twitches of a virgin bride on her wedding night. 

Kathleen giggled as the children shrieked.

Brian debated as Aaron speculated.

Jennifer wriggled her bare feet apart as Michael slithered his finger deeper. Her toes dug into the wet sand as his finger explored her wet lips. 

The winning child celebrated their victory in the game.

Brian ultimately defeated Aaron's illogical reasoning.

Jennifer moaned as her smooth pussy, impaled by Michael's finger, erupted with unexpected orgasm. 

She collapsed into his arms. He pulled out of her, lifting his finger to his mouth and sucking it clean. She muttered, "What is happening."

Michael, the man everyone trusted, the man that seemed to have all the answers, looked her in the eyes and said, "I honestly do not know."

They stood side by side, turned around, and walked back. They were silent. They were seduced. They were conflicted. But mostly, they were not done. Not at all.

As they approached the patio, Michael softly spoke the first words they shared following that orgasmic confusion. "This is not over; this is just the beginning."

Jennifer shivered, barely able to offer the words, "I want you."

Michael murmured, "Good. You and I will meet again before we return home. And I will taste more of your sweet cunt, yes?"

Jennifer twisted, "I don't know. Perhaps?"

Michael stroked her hair as they separated, "Perhaps indeed."