49 comments/ 55518 views/ 20 favorites Sandy Steps Out Ch. 01 By: Fenris17 I had always thought that my wife didn't really like sex, until I saw her bent over a desk getting fucked by another man. We were at a party, and I wanted to get some air, so I wandered upstairs away from the crowd. As I went down the dark hallway, I heard muffled noises from the end of the hall. There was a door cracked open, with a bit of light leaking out. I went closer, then stopped cold when I finally got a good look through the open door. It was a home office, and my wife was bent over the desk, her hands grasping the far edge. A man was standing behind her, pounding her hard from behind. They had obviously been going at it for a little while. Her skirt was pushed up around her waist, her sweater was pushed up above her breasts, and they spilled out where he had pulled her bra down. Her head was thrown back and she gasped in pleasure with each thrust. I moved a bit to the side, and recognized the man. John. My wife, Sandy, is very active on local boards and committees, and he was one of the people she often worked with. He's a bit taller than I am, and I could tell in much better shape. His shirt was unbuttoned, open, and it revealed his taut abs that flexed each time his hips thrust forward and back. Sandy and I are in our mid-forties, and to be honest, look pretty good for our age. A lot of that is just keeping yourself up and not letting yourself go, then you look better compared with everyone else. Sandy might not get your first glance, but on second glance you noticed more. She is a bit short, under 5'4". Her breasts are full, and her lips are lush and inviting. Her blue eyes sparkle with humor, and her shoulder length hair is tinted blonde. Her legs are toned from constant jogging, and they join nicely with the swell of her ass and hips. Hips which John now was grasping firmly as he stroked his cock in and out of her pussy. I was frozen in shock. Sandy and I were members of the once a week, if that club, and even then, she just didn't really seem to be into it. Typically, I'd get in bed where she was lying on her side watching TV. If I was horny, I'd snuggle up against her, rubbing my cock a bit against her ass. If she wasn't willing, she wouldn't respond, and I'd eventually just turn over. If she was, she'd roll over, and we'd kiss for a bit while she pulled my cock out. She'd stroke me until I was hard, seemingly wanting to just get going. I'd pull her pajama bottoms down, and usually get on top. I'd thrust quickly, while she usually lay there, eyes closed. I have to admit, usually with less than a minute, I'd be cumming. Sandy usually didn't even take her top off, and we hadn't done it from behind in years. But now her full breasts were bouncing back and forth, and she was being fucked -- and fucked well -- from behind. John kept on going, hard and harder. I knew I should burst in, but instead found myself with a raging hardon in my pants. It only got harder when Sandy reached one had back to rub John's balls. he moaned, and thrust more vigorously. I found myself rubbing my cock through my pants as my wife bit her lip, holding back the cries of her orgasm. I gasped myself, in shame and horror as I found myself spurting in my pants. John kept thrusting, then throwing his head back moaned. I knew he was filling my wife with his hot seed. They slumped on the desk, then he pulled out. His cock was still semi-hard, and I could see how much bigger he was than me. Cum dripped off the tip, and he grabbed a tissue from the desk, wiping it off before pulling up his pants. Sandy lay slumped on the desk for a bit, smiling slightly, before sitting up to rearrange her clothes. I backed away, then almost ran to a bathroom to clean myself up. I rejoined the party, my head aswirl. Soon Sandy came down, without John. She looked a bit flushed, but most people would think that was wine. I realized now why she probably wasn't wearing stockings -- she probably wasn't wearing panties either. I wondered if she'd cleaned up, or if even now John's cum was running down her bare thighs. We didn't stay much longer, and I was quiet on the drive home. Sandy chattered away as though nothing had happened. When we got home, we got ready for bed. She showered, and I immediately started counting up other late night showers I remembered her taking. This couldn't be the first time John and Sandy had fucked. They must have done it a lot, and it was only their rush to screw that kept them from noticing the door hadn't closed fully. She joined me in bed in her flannel pajamas, turning her back to me to watch TV. Lying there thinking of John behind my wife, her head thrown back in pleasure, being drilled by his hard rod, I found myself getting hard again myself. Harder than I'd been in awhile. I spooned her, rubbing insistently against her ass, cupping her breasts through the flannel top. She didn't move at first, but I began kneading her breasts, pulling on her nipples through the fabric. She rolled over, pulling down her pants as she did so and lifting her legs up and apart. I immediately moved between them, and rubbing my swollen head against her pussy-lips, slid easily in. Her eyes opened as I did so, maybe because my cock hadn't been this hard in a long time, and she could feel it. I closed my eyes though, the image of John and Sandy fucking burned in my mind, and began thrusting desperately. Sandy actually began to move bit under me, but the thought of knowing John's cock had been where mine was right now drove me over the edge, and with a shuddering moan I came, harder than I'd come in a long time. I felt my cock twitch its last, then rolled off. Sandy kind of sighed, went to clean up, then got into bed. She fell asleep quickly, but I lay awake long into the night, tortured by my thoughts. Sandy Steps Out Ch. 02 The next day I was completely useless at work. My desk is at the end of a row on a large trading floor. It's a whirlwind of activity, but all I could do was stare sightlessly at the monitors in front of me. The graphs and charts meant nothing; in my head was the image of Sandy's head thrown back in pleasure, John's strong hands on her hips. It was like it was burned onto my retina. I wondered if she and John were doing it even as I sat there. He owned a business in town, so there would be lots of chances for them to get together. Did they screw in my bed at home? I imagined them fucking through my house: on couches, tables -- hell, swinging from chandeliers. I kept thumbing my phone to the find-my-phone app. Sandy and I had the same ID, so we could find each other's phones when we misplaced them. I would check Sandy's little green dot. Was it staying too long in the Walgreens parking lot? Was it because she was blowing him in our car? I felt the blood rush from my head as I imagined her head bobbing up and down on his cock while his hands fondled her breasts, like horny teenagers. "Are you ok? You seem distracted today, you didn't even order lunch." I snapped out of it, and looked up. Tracy from the risk department was standing over my desk. I must have been really out of it to not even notice her. She was my little fantasy at work. Long brown hair, usually primly up, deep brown eyes, and great legs that I loved watching as she walked away from my desk. She had a tight body, probably from yoga or whatever the hipsters were doing this week. Her eyes behind the dark frames of her glasses looked into mine. "Uh, yeah, just got a lot on my mind. Not hungry today." She raised an eyebrow. Lunch is provided by the firm, so no one turned it down, unless they were deathly ill. "Alright, but let me know if you need anything. I stopped by to say I emailed you those stress tests earlier. I just need to you sign off on them." I nodded, and the sight of her walking away with a bit of a sway to her hips briefly took my mind off of Sandy and John. Finally, it was the end of the day and I headed out. Almost home, my phone beeped. A text from Sandy. "Going running, see you later at home." I thumbed over to the app. The green dot was parked in a lot at the local forest preserve. I knew the trail she had stopped at. About a mile up it, was an abandoned picnic shelter. Was that the spot for their next rendezvous? The preserve runs along a wooded stretch, the trail going up a long hill to the old shelter. There was another lot at the base of the hill. I stopped there and my mind almost blank, began scrambling up the hill. There's a reason why the trail starts farther away, it's an almost straight up scramble over rocks and brambles to the top. I slipped several times, tearing my pants once, blood seeping down my knee. I cursed softly as I finally got near the top, not wanting to be heard. I threw myself down on the ground, and scrambled forward, like some poorly trained, Dockers-wearing soldier. I peeped over the edge of the ridge, through some bushes and my heart skipped a beat. There was John. He was wearing running shorts and a t-shirt, showing off his ripped legs and arms. At that moment, I heard steps coming up the trail and Sandy entered the clearing. She was wearing running shorts too, and a halter top over a sports-bra. She hadn't been running too hard, I could tell by her breathing, but her breasts still glistened a bit in the evening sun from a slight sheen of sweat. She smiled at the sight of John and he grinned too, moving forward to take her in his arms. They kissed deeply, open mouthed, bodies pressing hungerly against each other. She had to reach up to kiss him, her arms around his neck, fingers in his hair, since he was so much taller. They kind of crab walked around behind the shelter. They'd hear anyone coming up the trail, I realized, making it a good, if still dangerous, place to meet. I watched transfixed from my hiding place as they kept kissing. John's hands roamed over my wife's body. He cupped her ass, pushing her hips harder against him, grinding his pelvis. Then his hands moved up her sides, caressing the swell of her breasts. She tipped her head back, breaking the kiss. He kissed down her neck, cupping her breasts as his tongue flicked across the tops of her tits. Her hands moved under his shirt, caressing his abs, then she pushed his shirt up over his head. She ran her hands over his toned body, feeling his pecs and and bending her own head to lick his nipples. He pulled her shirt, then bra off over her head, and Sandy's breasts fell free, her large nipples already erect, standing out starkly from her large areolae. One of her hands moved into John's shorts, pulling his cock free as she pushed his shorts off of his hips with the other hand. She stroked his already hard cock, kissing down his body, kneeling in front of him. I found myself breathing hard, my own cock stiff. I moved my hand down, rubbing it as I watched my wife lick this other man's cock up and down. John stood there in his sneakers and expensive glasses, watching Sandy tongue his swollen head, then engulf him in her mouth. She pumped him with one hand, a counter motion to the movement of her head up and down, in slow, lingering, sucking strokes. I could hear her moan softly as she blew him, her other hand moving up to fondle his balls. John moaned himself, moving one hand down to play with a breast, while the other stroked her hair. I pulled my phone out, opened the camera app and began filming. Sandy kept going, her cheeks sucking in tight around the cock, moving her head faster now, stroking faster, her lips making smacking and slurping noises. I kept rubbing my own cock, wanting to cum, but forced myself to stop, to take my hand away. John didn't stop though. he grunted, rocking his hips back and forth. Sandy's eyes opened and I knew John was shooting his load into my wife's mouth. She held just the head in her mouth, jacking John off with her hand into her mouth. He stiffened, arching his back, then finally slumped a bit. Sandy slowed her stroking, before finally pulling him free. She smiled, opening her mouth to show John his cum. She licked her lips, coating them a bit with sticky cum, before swallowing. I, on the other hand, could barely swallow. I could barely remember the last time she'd blown me, much less with such a porn-star performance. John pulled her up, then set her on the picnic table, He had thoughtfully laid out a blanket. He'd hate for his fuck-toy to get splinters, I guess. She leaned back on her elbows as he kneeled in front of her, returning the oral favor. He eagerly began licking and sucking on my wife's pussy and clit. He stroked one finger into her, moving it slowly at first. As he kept sucking and licking though, he inserted a second, then a third finger. Sandy leaned back on her elbows, eyes closed, breathing raggedly with pleasure. He fingered her faster and faster, licking and flicking her clit with his tongue. Sandy gasped loudly, cumming hard, her legs spread wide, heels rubbing up and down John's back. John suddenly stood up, and I could see he was hard again, his cock straight up, with a slight upward bend. He hooked Sandy's knees over his elbows, and thrust himself suddenly and deeply into her. He fucked my wife hard, his tight ass flexing with each stroke. Sandy moaned and thrashed under him, cumming at least once, if not more as he pounded her: no finesse, just pure animal thrusts. He grunted each time, and I could hear their skin slapping together. My own cock was still throbbing, but I was determined not to cum myself. John let out a loud gasp and then pulled out. Rubbing his cock, he shot thick, ropy cum all over my wife's stomach and breasts, before slumping forward over her. They slowly caught their breath, then sat up, kissing deeply for a bit before reaching for their clothes, laughing at the mess they'd made. I flicked off the camera, then pulled back from my watching post, new images burned into my brain as I stumbled back down the hill to my car. Sandy Steps Out Ch. 03 I drove home in a daze, went in, and got out of my clothes. My pants with the rip from where I'd fallen were a complete loss, so I tossed them, then cleaned my knee up. I pulled on some sweatpants, not bothering to put on a shirt, and shambled out to the living room. I didn't know how long it would take Sandy (and John!) to walk back down the trail, but didn't really care. My mind was filled with the images of their bodies entwined up in the preserve. I pulled out my phone, held it for a bit, then started playing back the movie. I watched, mesmerized, getting aroused again. Why was this turning me on so much? Why couldn't I turn away? Shouldn't I be enraged? Jealous? There was a bit of that there, but a lot of the jealousy was that it wasn't me there, that it wasn't me making Sandy moan so loudly. The sight of her experiencing so much pleasure was a good part of what was getting me hard. I heard the door open and close, and Sandy came into the room. "I'm heading up for a shower, ok?" she said. Her eyes were bright, her skin still flushed a bit from the sex. I felt myself drawn to her, and stood up, crossing the space between us in a couple of steps, and pulled her to me. I kissed her hard, my tongue darting over her lips. She reflexively responded, taking my tongue into her mouth, before gasping and pulling back. "Not now! I have to shower!" Could I taste his cum? Oro were her lips salty from the walking and jogging? I didn't care, my cock was engorged, tenting my sweatpants. My first impulse was to step way, let her shower, but it was swept away by my lust. I took her hand, and brought it to my swollen member. "I want to feel your mouth on me," I said. She looked a bit surprised, but maybe still turned on, or maybe taken by surprise by my aggressiveness, she started stroking my cock on her own. She slid her hand into my sweatpants, and pulled it out. I began breathing harder as she fondled me. She glanced up at me, then kneeled, taking me into her mouth. I moaned as her wet mouth engulfed me. It felt so good. the image of her sucking John's cock was superimposed in my mind over the sight of her sucking me, and I felt my orgasm building. I gasped and pulled out from her mouth, not wanting to cum yet, wanting to keep feeling it. I squeezed the head of my cock, moving my hips forward so she could lick my balls. She nuzzled and licked them while I squeezed the end of my penis until I felt the urge to cum subside a bit, then I rubbed the head over her lips before letting her take me in once more. She sucked me faster now, stroking me with her hand. I pulled her bra up over her breasts, rubbing them, feeling her hard nipples in my palms. Once again I felt my urge to cum building, and pulled out. I quickly pulled her to her feet, and moving behind her, bent her over the back of the couch. I pulled her shorts down with shaking hands, and rubbed my fingers between her legs, finding her pussy already wet. I fingered her, slipping three fingers in, reaching around with my other hand to rub her clit. She gasped and pushed back, biting her lip. I got even harder, seeing the pleasure on her face that I had seen in the woods and bent over the desk. I guided my cock-head to her opening, and thrust in, gasping at how good she felt around me. I held her hips, pulling her back against me as I fucked her hard. The thought I was fucking the same pussy that John's cock had been in only an hour ago made me even more turned-on, and I pounded her as hard as I could. I loved the feel of my hips slapping against her ass with each thrust. It didn't take long before I felt my cum rising again, and this time I didn't hold back, but crying out, came hard into her tight pussy. I held myself deep within her, letting the last spasms subside, before pulling out. I suddenly felt drained, ashamed and conflicted. Shouldn't I have been confronting her, instead of having sex with her? I mumbled something, picking up my clothes, and stumbled off to the guest-room bathroom to shower. The next morning we acted as though nothing had happened, not exactly a normal way for two people who had had the best sex they'd had in years to act. But we both knew it had happened for reasons neither of us could define. Sandy said "Don't forget that casino night is tonight. I put your tux out by the door." I sighed, "Oh, great." Casino night is a big fundraiser my firm does. We turn the trading floor into a casino with all the money going for charity. Everyone dresses up, and tries to outdo each other with their generosity and "ability" to play games that are even more rigged than at a real casino. It took place after work, so Sandy would meet me there and I'd change after hours. I finished breakfast, then headed to my car. I was almost out of the driveway when I realized I forgot the tux. I went back in, and heard Sandy's voice from the kitchen. I edged closer, eavesdropping. "He was really...frisky.. last night. I don't know what got into him." There was a pause, then a Sandy let out a throaty laugh. "Are you jealous? That I fucked my husband? I didn't know you had it in you, John.!" She chuckled again, then there was another pause while John obviously said something. "Ok, that sounds good. I have to go into the city for this charity thing, but can meet up at lunch in the usual spot." I stumbled back, reeling out of the house. I don't know what I expected. That after some halfway decent sex Sandy would drop John and direct her horny attentions my way? I drove to the office, and worked like a zombie all day. The end of the day came, and the staff from the catering group started setting up for the big event. People's wives and girlfriends began to arrive, so I changed, and came back on to the floor. "Look at you, you look just like James Bond!" I turned, and it was Tracy, grinning at me from behind her hipster glasses. She had changed too, and looked stunning in a simple, little black dress. It came only to mid thigh, and showed off toned legs. The neck-line wasn't too daring for a large corporation, but still showed nice cleavage, and accentuated her firm breasts. "James Bond? Which one?" She laughed and put her hand on my arm. "The good looking one." She gave me a wink, and walked away, looking over her shoulder at me once. I then spotted Sandy coming in, and she looked great too. She had a green sheath dress on that hugged her figure, and nice heels that showed off her own toned legs and calves. I then remembered it wasn't just running that kept them so toned, before I walked over to her. I wondered where and how she and John had done it that afternoon. A Kama-Sutra of images cascaded through my mind of their entwined bodies. We made small talk about the drive, then she said, "I see Marsha over there, I'm going to go say hi." She gave me a peck on the cheek, and walked over to the wife of one of the other traders. I sat at the blackjack table, playing aimlessly and looked over the room. About half the wives were second wives. You could pick them out because they were all ten years younger, about four inches taller, and blonder than the first wives. It was kind of funny, actually, how alike they were, these trophy wives, as though ordered out of a catalog. Tracy joined me then, resting her hand on my shoulder as she sat down. She crossed her luscious thighs, the hem of her dress riding up, but she didn't move to push it down. "Sandy looks great tonight. You guys must be very happy." She took a sip of her wine, looking at me through her glasses, her eyes bright and mischievous. "Um, yeah, yeah, it's great," I said with a complete lack of James Bond assurance. Tracy laughed, and we played a few hands in silence, but she seemed to be leaning toward me more than she had to. I could smell her perfume, and began to feel light-headed, images of Sandy and John spinning around the sight of this attractive woman obviously flirting with me. Tracy gathered her chips, and giving me another wink stood to leave. "Catch you later, Mr. Bond" she said. I played a few more rounds, toying with my phone, before coming to a decision. I flipped to text messages, thumbed in a few lines, and sent them off. I finished the hand, then my drink, then stood and headed off the floor, down one of the side hallways. This was the side of the floor with offices and conference rooms. The lights were dimmed since everyone was supposed to be focusing on boozing and gambling for the sake of little sick children. I went around the corner, and Tracy was standing outside one of the conference rooms. "You rang, Mr. Bond?" she said, trying to keep a straight face before giggling. I didn't say anything, just took her hand and pulled her into the conference room, closing the door behind us and locking it. I swept her into my arms, kissing her hard. She responded immediately, pressing her body hard against mine, taking my tongue into her mouth, moaning. She was a lot taller than Sandy, and I ran my hands over her body, feeling the heat of her skin through the light material of her dress. I cupped her firm ass, pulling her against my hips, grinding against her. I moved her around the table, and pushed her back so she was sitting on the edge. She opened her legs, pulling her knees high, wrapping her thighs around my waist, rubbing up and down against the hard bulge my cock made in my pants. I pulled one strap of her dress down, and freed one breast. It was smaller than Sandy's, the nipple brown, but hard. I sucked on it, running my tongue over the rough, dimpled skin of her areola while she wove her fingers in my hair. I pulled back a bit, fumbling at my pants. She pulled her legs back just enough to pull her panties off as I finally got my zipper down and my cock out. She grasped it, and rubbed the head against her wet pussy before her legs came around my hips again and she urged me forward, into her. I gasped as I entered her tight body, her mouth came to my ear and she moaned "I've wanted this for so long...fuck me...fuck me so hard..." I didn't really need to be told to, and thrust forward deeper and deeper with each twist of my hips. I looked up a bit. I had moved Tracy so that her back was to the door. Next to it was a long glass window, covered with blinds, but you could still see a bit around the edges. I saw a soft glow there, like someone looking at a cell-phone. Maybe someone watching a movie sent to them in a text. Tracy pulled my head down, kissing me hard, and drew my attention back to her, back to her body writhing under mine. I forgot about Sandy, forgot about John's fucking her, and concentrated on the hard body beneath mine. Tracy came in a series of strangled gasps, and I began cumming too. She felt my first spasm as my body tensed, pulled her dress up higher above her stomach, then pushed me back and pulled my cock out her vagina. She stroked me as I came in a rush on her stomach. I watched her pump my cock out over her body, while she gave me a half smile, still looking at me through those thick, hipster frames. We slumped back, then giggling, she gathered up her panties and shoes and scooted toward the door. Before I could say anything, she had it open, and with a quick glance out, dashed toward the ladies room. I tucked my pants in, moving to the door. I looked out, but the hallway was empty. The rest of the night Tracy and Sandy both stayed away from me. Tracy would catch my eye and give me wink, before turning away. Sandy never made eye contact. Finally though, we had to leave, and walking in silence, went to our car and got in. She sat, looking out the window. We drove along the highway that runs along the city's edge, the skyscrapers looming above us, glittering with light against the dark sky. "I guess I deserved that," she said. I kind of shrugged, not saying anything. "Are you going to see her again? Tracy?" I found myself not really knowing the answer. "I don't know, honestly." She nodded, still looking out the window. "What about you, are you still going to see John?" She was silent for a bit, then said "I don't know. I mean, I love you. I do. But, well, there's just something exciting..." her voice trailed off. Then she turned a bit, a small, maybe sad (or maybe I wanted it to be) smile on her face. "You know how it is." Yeah, I guess I did, a bit, now. We drove in silence. After a bit, I reached out, and took her hand. She left it there, unmoving, but then after a minute, squeezed it back as we drove home through the night.