4 comments/ 45709 views/ 8 favorites My Wife's Gentlemen Callers By: Calvin427 What I'm writing about happened on a Friday night this past March. My wife Nancy and I had moved from Colorado six months earlier and were getting into a new routine in California. I've entered a doctoral program at UC-Berkeley while she works across the bay in San Francisco. When I got home from the library that Friday at about 6:00 o'clock, Nancy gave me a quick kiss and went on with some minor straightening up in the living room. She hadn't been home long and hadn't entirely changed out of her work clothes. In fact, all she had on was a partially unbuttoned blouse, a bra, and a pair of white panties. I got a beer from the refrigerator and sat down on the couch. She was across the room, leaning forward on her knees with her back to me sorting through some magazines. I sipped my beer and luxuriated in the vision of that gorgeous tight ass of hers aimed invitingly at me. I realized (for the nine-hundredth time) how lucky I was. Nancy is 5'4" tall and weighs maybe 115 pounds. She has medium-length blonde hair, a very pretty face, perfectly shaped though not large breasts, a flat belly, a neatly trimmed swatch of reddish-blonde cunt hair and, as mentioned, an absolutely gorgeous ass. Though she is now twenty-six, I think she looks about eighteen. Finally I asked, "Do you notice anything different about the living room?" Nancy straightened up and looked around. "Nothing obvious," she said. "It looks pretty much the same way it always does, except a little neater." "That's good," I said. "I don't want it to look other than normal. But do you see anything different on the wall there?" I pointed to a small hole between two paintings fairly high up on the wall opposite the couch. She stood up and walked over to where I was pointing. "Oh my God, is that what I think it is?" She was smiling ear-to-ear. "It is if you think it's a peephole," I answered. I stood up and, taking her by the hand, led her around the corner and into the hall closet. I switched on the closet light and showed her the job I'd done in there that morning after she'd left for work. "It's just like the one you made in Aurora!" she exclaimed. She turned to me in the closet and gave me a deep kiss. "My adorable pervert," she whispered to me. "When did you do this?" I told her. She ran her hands around the edges of the 16" by 16" hole I'd made in the closet wall, the gap where I could rest my chin while peering through the small hole I'd drilled in the living room wall opposite it. "You're going to have to repair this before we move, you know," she said. "Lift me up, though, so I can see." I did as she asked. She stuck her head in the space I'd created between the studs and brought her right eye up to the peephole. "Wow! You can see almost the whole room from here," she said. "It's like a stage set. You know, I never looked through your peephole at the other place. Could you see everything this clearly there?" I said that I could. "No wonder you loved sex theater [our name for her exhibitionist and my voyeuristic game] so much," said Nancy as we returned to the living room and sat down on the couch. "From here the peephole isn't noticeable at all. I'll bet you could see every dirty little thing those guys did to me back in Colorado, couldn't you." Remembering Colorado Nancy snuggled up against me as I put my right hard inside her panties and began kissing her and fingering her cunt. As we necked, I began talking about our "sex theater" experiences. Until recently (when we'd become distracted by the demands of our new life in California), we'd talked about it a lot. "I think your video shoot was my favorite, Nancy. I just loved watching Nick fingering and eating your cunt and it was really exciting to see those guys from your class, Jerry and John, turned on by it too. I especially loved it when Nick rubbed that big cock of his against your cunt until you came." [For a full report of these adventures, see in Exhibitionist and Voyeur section, "My Wife's Night Class," parts 1-8]. She had spread her legs wide so I had better access to her crotch. "Did I just cum once with Nick?" she asked softly. She knew the answer, but this was part of our sex-talk ritual – my reminding her of how hot her exhibitionism had been. "No, you came several times. Once when Nick rubbed the head of his cock against your cunt lips and once when he was eating you. And then you came a third time. That was while John was fingerfucking you. Do you remember that?" "Oh, yes, Cal. Yes, I remember," answered my wife. Her voice had become a rasping whisper. I could tell she was getting very excited recalling the events while I played with her cunt. By this time, I had pulled her panties loose at the crotch so I could more easily work my fingers in and out of her. "Did you forget how John wiped Nick's cum off your ass with some Kleenex and then began fingering you? You didn't stop him, though you could've. And Wendell [the photographer in charge] got it all on video." "I just couldn't stop," said Nancy. "When John did that to me it just felt too good." By now my cock was very hard and getting uncomfortable in my trousers. I stood up and quickly and removed my shoes, socks, trousers, and briefs. Nancy pulled her panties all the way off and sat watching me stroke my cock. "Was Nick's cock bigger than this?" I asked her. Again, I knew the answer, but this was part of our dirty talk. "Yes, Cal, it was. Your cock is really nice and big. But don't you remember how long and thick Nick's was? I'm so glad he didn't actually stick it inside me. I'm afraid it might've hurt." She had begun rubbing her clit now. "I'll bet you wish sometimes you'd let him actually fuck you, though. You know how much he wanted to," I said. I crawled up on the couch and held my cock up to Nancy's face. "Don't you wonder sometimes how that huge cock would've felt way up inside you?" Nancy said, "Oh, God!" and began masturbating more furiously. I could tell she was getting close to an orgasm, but she stopped fingering her clit for a while and took my cock deep inside her mouth. I worked it in and out of her mouth then held it steady as she worked her very talented tongue around the crown. Then she took as much of my cock inside her mouth as she could and gave it a good sucking for about almost thirty seconds. Then, with a gasp, she pulled away and began masturbating again. "Oh, Cal, I'm almost ready to cum. Let me do this some more." "Let me help," I said. I climbed off the couch and got on my knees in front of her. I forced my hands under her ass and pulled her lower body forward so that her thighs rested on my shoulders and her pretty cunt was right in my face. By now, her clit was the size of a small pea and her labia were red and slightly swollen. "Tell me how you liked licking Nick's cock when Wendell told you to. Maybe you didn't actually put it in your mouth, but I saw you running your tongue all over the head of it." "The end of his cock was spongy. I really liked kissing and licking it," she said, almost meekly. Her pubic hair was tickling my nose as I buried my tongue deep inside her cunt and waggled it around. Then I took it out and began sucking and tongue-lashing her clit. "Oh God, Cal, that feels so good!" I stopped eating her briefly. "Say more about what Nick did," I said. Then I got back to it. "Uh, well, he was really, really good at eating my cunt. Like you're doing now. But, uh, you're just as good. Uh, but what he was really good at was using his big cock against my vagina without going inside. I don't think any of it went inside, at least. I was so excited I couldn't really sure." "Did he get the head of it in, maybe?" I asked. I now had two fingers deep inside her cunt as I worked on her clit with my tongue. "I couldn't see everything from the peephole." "Uh, he might have, just the very end of his cock maybe. God, Cal, that's feeling too good. I'm going to have to cum soon!" "If Nick had rammed the huge cock of his cock all the way inside you, what would've happened?" I asked. I quickly resumed eating her cunt. "Oh, Cal! Oh, shit!" she exclaimed. "I think I would've passed out if he'd done that! I would've! It would've felt so good I couldn't help it! Ah....ah.....I'm cumming now!" she shouted. She was writhing now, in the throes of a very large orgasm. It lasted for almost thirty seconds, I think. In the middle of it, she pushed my mouth away from her clit. (She's explained to me that sometimes when she's having a strong orgasm she needs to give her clit a short rest. It gets too sensitive, almost painful, when it's over-stimulated). After recovering for maybe thirty seconds, Nancy stood up and pulled me up to the couch – she can be surprisingly strong -- so that I lay on my back. She then maneuvered her body so that, facing away from me, she straddled my chest. She then scooted backward a foot or so until her wide-open, sopping-wet cunt was just inches from my mouth. Of course, I instantly raised my head and stuck my tongue back inside. She made a little appreciative noise, then leaned forward and began sucking my cock again. This sixty-nining went on for several minutes. I kept tonguing and nibbling her, loving the taste of her, my mouth and jaw sloppy wet. My mind went back to how I'd loved watching Nick doing the same thing to her. And I remembered how much I got off on sharing the sight with the other guys (the photographer Wendell, her classmates John and Jerry). The thought of all this, and the incredible job my wife was doing on my cock, brought me right to the edge of orgasm. She could tell I was close, but I warned her anyway. She stopped sucking my cock long enough to whisper, "Go ahead and cum in my mouth. I want to swallow it." And that's just what I did. Groaning with the most intense pleasure, I thrust my hips up and sent spurt after spurt into Nancy's mouth. She swallowed every drop of it. When she had drained me completely, she let her body fall forward. An after-tingle went the length of my body and, for a minute or so, I could feel her breath against the inside of my right knee. As she rested straddling me in this way, her ass was still elevated and for some time I lay perfectly still contemplating her tight little asshole and glistening wet cunt. Damn, am I a lucky guy! "I didn't get to fuck you," I said. She gave a little sigh of contentment and kissed me on the knee. "Never mind. That was wonderful. We can get around to fucking later." Getting Ready to Go Out We decided to start our evening by eating at a neighborhood restaurant. But, as Nancy showered and got ready to go, I decided to walk down to a corner store to buy a six-pack of beer since we were nearly out. When I returned, I found her standing stark naked in the living room drying off with a large towel. "What should I wear tonight," she asked "The less and the hornier the better," I said. "It might be chilly tonight," she answered. "But I could wear my long coat, a little dress, boots, and not much else. How would that be?" "Sounds good to me," I said. "You'll be indoors most of the time, anyway. What do you mean by 'not much else'?" I was standing behind her now, caressing her high, firm tits and kissing her neck. "I'm not sure yet, but let me look around for something." She pulled away from me and headed down the hall to our bedroom. I sat down on the couch and switched on the television. I cracked a beer and watched an old "Will and Grace" episode for about twenty minutes, then switched off the TV and walked down the hall to change my shirt and sweater and see what Nancy was up to. She was standing in front of the full-length mirror wearing a mid-thigh, high-necked blue dress, made of some kind of very thin, clinging material that showed off every curve of her body. She had her hands up behind her head as she struggled to capture her hair in a large wooden beret. "Damn!" she complained. "My hair's still too short to put up this way. I guess I'll have to wear it down." (Good, I thought to myself, I like it better that way anyhow.) "You know," I said, "when you were fooling with your hair just then, the bottom of your dress pulled up almost to your ass. It's pretty short, isn't it. Did you plan on wearing panties?" I was lying on one elbow on the bed behind her, so her pretty butt was just at eye level. "Do you want me to?" she asked. She was smiling at me devilishly in the mirror as she brushed her hair. "Please don't. And whatever you do, do your best not to be too careful about how you sit or bend over." "Unless we're around children, cops, or nuns, right?" "Right," I answered. "I suppose off-duty cops are all right, but we don't want any outraged citizens." All of this was a joke, of course. Nancy knew perfectly well how to expose herself discreetly, selectively. As I finished getting ready, she pulled on a pair of soft leather boots, with medium heels, over bare legs. They covered most of her lower legs. Then she put on a necklace and did some last-minute work on her eyes and lips while I finished getting dressed. On the Town We had a leisurely dinner at a Chinese restaurant in our neighborhood. Then we drove to downtown Berkeley (about eight miles from our apartment) and looked for a likely place to find an unwitting co-star for tonight's sex theater. We decided on an Irish bar on Shattuck Avenue. I dropped Nancy off in front of the bar and watched her go in. Then I drove around for about twenty minutes until I found a parking place about four blocks away. By the time I got back to the bar, it was about 10:00 o'clock and she'd been inside without me for almost half an hour. I should explain that when we're playing our exhibitionist-voyeur game we never enter a bar as a couple. I'm fairly large and quite fit, so guys don't usually come on to Nancy when we're out together. The place was pretty crowded, mostly with college types but also a few older folks. Mainly there seemed to be couples and groups of couples. I pushed my way through the crowd on the ground-floor part of the club (where some musicians were getting ready to play), but didn't see Nancy. So I walked upstairs. It was fairly crowded there, too, but I saw her right away. She had joined two guys, who looked like they were in their middle thirties, at a small table just at the top of the stairs. She hadn't removed her long coat yet. I managed to find a seat at the small bar from which, at a range of maybe twenty-five feet, I was able to watch inconspicuously what went on at the table. I ordered a Guinness. From my vantage point, Nancy was sitting on the right side of table, with her back toward the stairs. One of the men had his back to me, and the other sat on the left side. They were apparently sharing a pitcher of beer or ale, but my wife had a full glass of white wine in front of her. By then, they were past the introductions stage and were talking freely. The two men were well dressed and conventionally handsome, though one was rather paunchy. Nancy spotted me at the bar and flashed me a discreet smile. So far things were pretty tame. But when, about five minutes after I arrived, my wife stood up, removed her coat, and turned to lay it over her chair, the two guys got a greater appreciation of just how sexy their new drinking companion was. Her blue dress clung to her body so tightly that when she turned her back to them, bending slightly at the waist and fussily arranging her coat over the back of her chair, they got a great up-close view of her lovely butt. Since the crack of her ass showed through the material slightly (I'd noticed this earlier), they must have been wondering whether she was wearing a very skimpy thong or no panties at all. When she sat down again, I noticed, even from where I sat, that her erect nipples showed prominently beneath the thin, semi-sheer fabric of her dress. Her new friends, sitting quite close to her, were getting a much better view since the rather critical light above the table penetrated her dress to reveal the exact size and erectness of her nipples. And I knew (though I was too far away to see clearly) that the light probably revealed the light-pink of her coronas. As they chatted and drank, Nancy leaned back in her chair several times, a move that attracted even more attention to her breasts. Her new friends were pretending to be interested in what she had to say, but mostly, I'm afraid, they were just looking at her tits. After twenty minutes or so, the one sitting next to her walked to the bar and bought another glass of wine for Nancy. The cad! Was he trying to get my wife drunk and take advantage of her? After thirty minutes or so of watching my wife's new friends devour her body with their eyes, I left my drink on the bar and, retreating to the rear of the bar, called her cell phone. From across the room I watched her reach down into a pocket in her coat, which she was sitting on, to retrieve her cell. As she swiveled her body to reach into the coat pocket, she let her legs fell wide open for maybe five seconds, giving the guy sitting nearest her (the trimmer, better-looking of the two) what had to have been a great view of her naked crotch. Then, excusing herself, she stood up and walked unsteadily, as though she'd already had too much to drink, about ten feet away from their table to answer her call more privately. "Hi, Cal," she said, answering her phone. She wasn't actually drunk, of course. Her voice was steady, sober. "Did you know the guy you just showed your stuff to immediately told his buddy what he saw?" She'd missed it -- the guy she'd flashed leaning quickly to his left to whisper to his paunchy friend. By the time she turned to look back at her table, the one she'd "accidentally" flashed was studiously looking in the opposite direction and the other guy was smiling benignly at her. "I hope he liked what he saw. Maybe I was a little obvious. But you know how I am when I've had a couple. I tried to give him some earlier glimpses, too, before I gave him the full beaver shot. He's nice looking, don't you think? He's got this great French accent and it's getting me a little turned on." "That's good. What would you like to do now?" "I think I'll play drunk and helpless a little longer," said Nancy. "The fact is, I've had three wines now and I'm actually beginning to feel it. I'll tell them something heart-rending, how I got separated from friends and, golly, how I could do with a ride home. I've already complained about recently being abandoned by my son-of-a-bitch husband, so they think I'm a poor soul alone in the world. I know one of them has a rental car. Did I mention that they're here from Canada for some kind of anthropology conference? So we've actually been chatting about fairly interesting stuff. One said something about Montreal and the other one might be from there too. They said they're flying back tomorrow afternoon. I'm pretty sure they're married." "Not to each other, I hope." "Don't worry. They're not gay. Especially not the one sitting next to me. He's really been interested in all the bad things I've been saying about my husband. And they both really liked the revenge idea I floated a few minutes ago, the one about getting photographed in a compromising position with some other man just to prove to the S.O.B. that other men might find me attractive. I know he'd drive me home if I asked him to." "OK, give it a try. I'll stick around and make sure it works. I'll wait for you to leave before I head back to the apartment. Stall whoever drives a little bit so I get there before you do. If you want to use the digital camera, it's all charged up. I'll leave it out on the kitchen table." "Bye, sweetie," she said. "I'll see if I can get things churning. I guess I'll tell them this call is from one of my irresponsible drinking friends. You know, how she got sidetracked and I'm on my own." My Wife's Gentlemen Callers She rang off and returned, still feigning tipsiness, to the table. I moved back to the bar but my place had been usurped by another patron. So I walked over to within a few feet of Nancy's table and pretended to be interested in some wall posters. I couldn't hear everything they were saying, but the two guys were obviously trying to talk Nancy into having yet another glass of wine. She declined the drink, complaining of a head-ache. Then I overheard her going into her routine. She told them that the call was bad news. She was stranded. Her back was to me, but I noticed that the man sitting next to her was again getting a nice view up her dress. She had scooted her chair back from the table slightly and sat facing him with the heels of her boots hooked behind the chair's front cross member. Her knees were raised now and spread about six inches apart. She pretended, of course, to be unaware of how much she was showing. As the man spoke with her, I noticed his eyes darting down repeatedly to her crotch. I wondered exactly how much he could see. The way she was sitting, certainly her pubic hair and possibly the lips of her cunt. I wondered if they were still swollen from my having eaten her to orgasm a few hours earlier. And was exposing herself like this getting her even wetter? I noticed the man's pudgy friend sitting opposite Nancy leaning to his left to sneak a look, too, but I don't think he was successful. As I stood there watching Nancy giving this Canadian academic a prolonged view up her dress, my cock began to stiffen uncomfortably in my briefs. The urge to stroke it was strong and I had to remind myself that I was in a public place. If things worked out right, I told myself, I'd be treated to something far hornier than this in a short while. I could wait to jack off in the closet watching Nancy and whomever through my peephole. Afraid my eavesdropping might be getting obvious, I wandered back toward the bar. A few minutes later, Nancy and her two companions stood up and made ready to leave. The good-looking one helped her on with her coat. Then the three of them headed down the stairs, on their way, no doubt, to a rental car. I followed them out and ran the several blocks to where I'd parked our car and headed home. On the way, though, I stopped at a convenience store to buy another six-pack of beer in case her co-star was especially thirsty. Waiting at Home Back at the apartment – it was now about 11:30 – I put the beer in the fridge and made things ready. First, I got entirely naked. Why not? I'd be in the closet when Nancy arrived with whomever. It's not like I was going to socialize. Second, I checked out the digital camera to make sure it was ready to use and placed it on the kitchen table. Third, I put a piss-jar and some paper towels to cum on in the closet. No use making a mess. Then, getting more and more excited about what might happen soon, I puttered around nervously for maybe twenty minutes. I fooled with pillows on the couch and watered several house plants. I turned off all the lights then and, pacing around the apartment, mulled over what might transpire. Maybe, despite their obvious interest in Nancy, her new friends were devoted married men who would drive a lady in distress safely home and nobly not attempt to take advantage of her. On the other hand, I knew that academics tend to be a randy bunch not always constrained by conventional morality. Especially when they were out of town. I figured there was about a seventy-five percent chance my beautiful wife would soon bring something Canadian and male home with her. We don't have a window looking out on the street, so I stopped pacing around and sat on the couch to listen for her arrival. It was past midnight and I was just starting to worry a little when I heard voices and footfalls down the corridor. Then, closer to our door, I heard Nancy laughing and a low male voice. Bingo! Let the show begin! I ran to the closet and shut myself in. Gentlemen Callers from the North Seconds later, I heard Nancy turning the key in the latch and watched through the peephole as she pushed the door open. Actually, she fiddled with the key in the latch for several seconds to give me a clear warning. It was unnecessary, but I appreciated the thought. I watched her enter and switch on a small ceiling light just inside the front door. Both guys were with her! They followed her in and the paunchy one closed the door behind them. He held a tall thin bag in his hands obviously containing a bottle of wine. He set it down on the kitchen table. Nancy then went over to the couch and turned on the lamps at either end of it. (That's right, my darling exhibitionist, light the whole area like a stage). Inviting her guests to sit down on the couch and make themselves comfortable (they had already taken off their light jackets), she walked past them to the coat hooks by the door and removed and hung up her coat. She then removed her purse and cell phone from the coat pockets and laid them down on the kitchen table next to the digital camera and bottle of wine. Finally, looking delicious in her short blue dress, she walked across the living room to the sound system and, using the remote, turned on the DVD player. The guys, now seated on the couch, watched her ravenously as she performed these simple acts. The guys spoke quietly to one another in French (which I can understand somewhat and Nancy not at all). It was probably something between lewd and appreciative. "I've got to go to the bathroom," Nancy announced. "Why don't you open up the wine, Armand? I forget which drawer the corkscrew is in, but look around till you find it. And there's beer in the fridge, I think." As she headed for the bathroom, the paunchy guy (evidently Armand) stood up and made for the kitchen. The better looking guy, still seated, stared as though hypnotized at my wife's ass as she walked away from him. As she passed the closet door, Nancy did something quite devilish. She rapped on the door with her knuckles as though accidentally. It was an I-know-you're-in-there rap that caught me completely off-guard and caused a panicky, though momentary, chill to run up my spine. I'd get her for that later! While Nancy was in the bathroom, the better-looking guy joined his friend in the kitchen to look for wine glasses, a corkscrew, and beer. He returned to the living room with a beer in his hand; he then walked leisurely around the living room checking out pictures and books in a small shelf near the sound system (where, at low volume, an Alanis Morisette CD was playing). As I held my breath, he paused to look at the paintings hanging on either side of my peephole. But he soon passed by without noticing anything untoward. Meanwhile, I could hear Armand in the kitchen uncorking the bottle of wine. A few minutes later he returned to the living room with the open bottle and two wine glasses, which he set on the coffee table in front of the couch. He sat down on the couch again, as did his friend, just as Nancy returned from the bathroom. Armand, pouring himself a glass of wine, asked her if he could pour her one too. She said yes and, wine glass in hand, sat down on the carpet in front of the coffee table. Her knees were drawn up so her creamy thighs were completely exposed, but her body was turned sideways to the two men. This probably disappointed them (since they knew she wasn't wearing panties), but they were willing to bide their time. They chatted about a variety of things for maybe fifteen minutes. Finally, I heard Armand ask, "What did you mean in the car, Nancy, by photos of you in compromising positions? Did you mean nude photos or what?" "Well, maybe," Nancy answered. "I guess they could be at least partially nude. I'm not at all shy about my body. I've even done nude modeling before. But what I was thinking of were photos I could show my jerk of a husband that would show me in a somewhat sexual way with another man." "But you said there must be limits, right?" This came from Better-looking-guy, who had a definite French accent. He pronounced "limits" as "leemeedz." This had to be the accent that Nancy said turned her on so much. Nancy nodded her head. "Right. As I said before, I'm not willing to have intercourse with anyone but Cal just yet. But I don't mind a little fooling around. I definitely don't want some guy's penis inside me, though. Aside from that, almost anything that's not totally weird might go." "Martin is a real show-off," said Armand. "I'm sure he'll pose with you." Martin (so that was his name) laughed and said something to Armand in French that I couldn't catch. Then he spoke to Nancy in rather stilted English, "Of course, I would like to help. But I cannot let you show my face because I don't want anything my wife can ever use against me. We're not having a good marriage now as it is." Nancy stood up and walked over to the kitchen table. She picked up the camera and carried it back to her companions. "The good thing about digital is we can delete anything too revealing," she explained. "Besides, there won't be any public use made of the photos. I would never let that happen. It would be way too embarrassing to me." Armand checked out the camera and said, "I have one very similar to this. Maybe I can be the cameraman." He drained his glass of wine and stood up. "What shall we do first?" Nancy seemed eager to get things going. "Let's start with a tame one of me on the couch with Martin, OK?" As Armand, camera in hand, walked around the coffee table and knelt down with the camera, she took his place next to Martin on the couch. Martin Helps Out "You're the photographer, Armand, so go ahead and pose us any way you think looks compromising or sexy," said Nancy. Martin grinned self-consciously at his friend with the camera. The first shot Armand took was of Martin with his left arm around Nancy's shoulders and his hand resting loosely against her left breast. Nancy smiled into the camera and nestled her head against his chest. Though nothing much had happened yet, I began stroking my cock, which had already become fully hard. "Maybe you can kiss now," said Armand. Nancy raised her face to Martin and he gave her a long, deep kiss. It must have lasted ten seconds. I noticed that as they kissed Martin's large hand was fondling my wife's left breast and that her hand was resting high up on his thigh. When they broke the kiss, Nancy gave a little gasp and said, "Oh, my!" It was an odd, though very sexy, thing for her say. She sounded just like Susan Sarandan in Bull Durham. Armand, getting into the role of director, made another suggestion: "Would it be OK if Martin unzipped your dress?" (Good idea, Armand! I thought to myself.) Without answering, Nancy turned her back to Martin. I watched his large, hairy hands rather clumsily unzip the dress starting at the neck and ending below where her bra would've been if she'd been wearing one. Damn! I was getting excited watching this. I had to stop stroking my dick to keep from cumming way too soon. Nancy then turned back around facing Martin and raised her face to him for another lingering kiss. It was a very wet one and I could hear both Martin and my wife making little noises indicating that, despite this being something merely staged, both of them were getting turned on. Her dress had begun to fall off her left shoulder. Martin broke off the kiss and asked her for permission to go further. She nodded that it would be OK, so using his right hand, he pulled the top of the dress down low enough to fully expose her left breast, the breast he'd just been feeling up through the thin blue fabric. The nipple was very erect and slightly darker than the surrounding light pink areola. "That's beautiful, very beautiful," he said, taking her bare breast in his hand and gently manipulating it. Armand took several photos of Martin thoroughly manhandling my wife's perfect breast. Then they resumed kissing. After almost a minute of kissing and breast caressing, Martin pinched her nipple between his fingers and she gasped. "Oh, God, that feels good! It goes all the way down my body when you do that," said Nancy. "But this is sort of awkward. Would you mind if we moved down to the floor?" From Couch to Carpet My wife stood up rather unsteadily (accidentally flashing her cunt at Armand and me as she did) and pulled the top of her dress back over her left shoulder. Then she walked around the coffee table and sat down on the carpet where Armand had been taking photos. Still kneeling, the pudgy Canadian had moved farther back toward the peephole, so he was just beneath me. Sitting on the floor, Nancy began removing her boots. She sat facing Armand and me and (adorable girl!) made absolutely no effort at modesty as she slowly removed first one then the other boot. Several times, her naked cunt came fully into view. I noticed that Armand snapped a quick shot of what he'd been unable to see earlier in the bar. Martin, meanwhile, had stood up and was walking back into the kitchen. I noticed he already had a hard-on. It made the front of his loose trousers jut way out. He must've been wearing boxer shorts; briefs would've held his cock in more. I heard him open the refrigerator, take out another beer, and open it. Then he returned to the living room and stood aimlessly near where Nancy sat, now bootless and with her bare legs drawn up more modestly under her arms. "Maybe you can get us some pillows from over there, Martin," she said, looking over at the couch. "Anything to please Madame," he said. He picked up two throw pillows and laid them down on the floor near Nancy. His hard-on was still quite apparent, but he seemed not to care if it showed. He then knelt down next to my wife and smiled broadly at Armand. "What's next?" he asked. "How about lying down next to her and kissing her? Those'll make pretty sexy shots, I think." "Sounds good to me," said Nancy. She was on her knees with her ass aimed in my direction arranging the pillows side by side. Her dress, completely unzipped, was falling off her upper body anyway, so Martin reached across her shoulders and, using both hands, pulled the top of it down so that it fell loosely around her waist. She offered no resistance. Now topless, and in fact virtually naked except for her dress hanging from her midsection and barely covering her ass, she rolled over on her back and smiled up at her stiff-dicked friend. She was flat on her back, naked all the way down past her navel, and the front hem of her dress just barely covered her cunt. Her breasts, with their excited little nipples, flattened out somewhat (they're real, not plastic), and they were not long without Martin's attention. He lay down next to her on his left side and immediately began kissing the side of her face and exploring her breasts with his right hand. He was very thorough as he caressed each breast and gently pinched and tugged at each nipple. Armand was starting to really get into it. "That's right, Martin," he said. "Go slower, though, so I can get more shots of what you're doing to her tits. Keep pinching her nipples like that. There's a great shot. You can see she likes it. Her nipples are getting harder and harder. Do you like that, Nancy?" She didn't answer. Instead, she moaned, rolled her head back, and closed her eyes. After at least a minute of feeling her up like this, Martin slid down my wife's body until he was in a position to use his mouth on her breasts. He started with Nancy's right breast, sucking and kissing it while he held her left breast in his hand. His head blocked my view of what he was doing, but from my angle I could see his jaw muscles working. Whatever he was doing with his mouth, Nancy was clearly loving it and was actually arching her back to push her breasts against his mouth and hand. Then he got up on his knees so he could lean across her body to kiss and suck her left breast. He spent at least thirty seconds doing this, but his head again blocked my view. As he slowly and deliberately enjoyed my wife's breasts, she had her arms above her head and, still arching her back, rolled her head back and forth with pleasure. And these exertions of her upper body had a very happy effect on the bottom of her dress. Her cunt, though Martin was probably too busy to notice, was now fully exposed to Armand and me. Since her knees were raised and her feet were about two feet apart, we had a great view of her moist, slightly separated cunt lips glistening beneath a whispy swatch of cunt hair. I noticed that Armand stopped focusing on Martin kissing Nancy's breasts and was kneeling to get lower-angle shots of her crotch. I suppose it was inevitable, but Martin was not content merely to suck, pinch, and squeeze my wife's breasts. For in the next minute or so he abandoned her breasts, raised himself to his knees, and slowly brought his right hand down over her belly and to her mons pubis. At first, he let his fingers play gently in her silky cunt hair. Nancy raised her head to watch what he was doing and said some rather confused things, "Oh, yes, take a photo of this. But don't touch me down there yet, please. It feels so good. If you touch me down there, though, you'll make me cum." "Is that bad?" asked Martin. He ignored her plea and moved his hand "down there" so that it completely covered her crotch area from cunt hair to asshole. He then gently rubbed his flattened hand up and down, and Nancy, who was involuntarily thrusting her pelvis up against his hand, began whimpering and gasping. She seemed to be building already to a climax. But, helpless as she seemed, she surprised me by reaching her right hand out and touching, or at least trying to touch (the angle was awkward since he was bending forward), Martin's cock. Then, suddenly, she reached forward with both hands and removed Martin's hand from her cunt. Breathing hard and smiling at him to show she wasn't angry, she sat up and said, "Oh, Martin, that's feels wonderful, but we need some different shots. Would you take your pants off and let me see your hard cock? I'd like to play with it for a while and we could get really compromising photos, right, Armand?" "Definitely," said Armand. Nancy Enjoys a Really Big One Martin stood up, undid his belt, unzipped his fly, and let his trousers drop to the floor. He then stepped out of them. Next he pulled down his boxer shorts and released his cock. Damn! It was certainly one to be proud of! It stood out aggressively purple and veiny at somewhere between the two and three o'clock position. It was not quite as large as Nick's cock (the one Nancy was videotaped with in Colorado), but it was at least as thick. And, of course, it was significantly larger than mine. Nancy sat staring at the rather ugly hard-on for several seconds then knee-walked over and seized it with both hands. "Oh, God, that's quite a large one! Take some shots of me touching it, Armand, would you?" But Armand had anticipated her request and was already snapping picture after picture of Nancy stroking and rubbing her face against Martin's cock. "Would you suck it, please" asked Martin. "You know that would be a very good photograph for your husband." "Why don't you lie down again and we'll see," she said. So far, Nancy had only stroked the shaft of Martin's dick and rubbed the end of it against her cheeks and mouth. Would she take the next step? In the closet, I was very close to cumming already, and I knew if I saw her actually take that huge purple cock in her mouth I wouldn't be able to hold back. Martin lay back, wearing only his socks and a short-sleeved shirt, with his hands behind his neck. His erection hovered over his belly at a slight rightward angle; I was surprised at how large and hairy his balls were. Out of consideration for me, Nancy tugged at his body slightly until Martin moved sideways a few inches until his feet were aimed directly at my peephole (something I'm glad he didn't ask her to explain), then knelt beside him (from my angle, to the right side of him). She flashed a smile at my peephole, then gripped the thick shaft of his cock in her right hand and began jacking him off. She caressed his balls with her left hand. She kept this up for well over a minute, as the lucky Canadian anthropologist groaned with appreciation. "How do you like that?" she asked him. My Wife's Gentlemen Callers "It feels wonderful," he replied, "but would you please kiss it and suck it now?" My wife stopped jacking him off and held the giant cock fully upright for a few seconds, genuinely admiring it, I think. With her left hand, she brushed off a little pre-cum from the end of his cock. Then she said in a low voice to Armand, "Get a shot of me as though I'm about to suck it," and slowly lowered her open mouth toward the purplish bulb at the end of his approximately eight-inch cock-shaft. Armand took several close-ups of my wife's mouth tantalizingly close to the swollen head of Martin's cock. Then she stuck her tongue out and, as Martin made an odd hissing sound, made contact with the end of the cock. She then ran the tip of her tongue expertly over and around the head of Martin's huge cock, lashing it and licking it. Then, still stroking his cock in her right hand, she lowered her head suddenly and began kissing and licking his balls! That did it! I couldn't stand it any longer. My own smaller cock spurted, with the most intense pleasure, over and over against the wall inside the closet. I was making a mess but didn't care. And it was all I could do to keep from shouting with pleasure. Meanwhile, I kept watching as Nancy spent well over a minute kissing and licking all of Martin's equipment (for, as she continued jacking him off in a half-hearted, desultory way, she was now taking turns kissing and licking the head of his cock, the full length of his shaft, and his balls). I was beginning to wonder what it would take to get him off. Would she go so far as to take it inside her mouth even though she said she wouldn't? Armand, meanwhile, shot picture after picture of my wife performing every imaginable oral act on Martin short of actual fellatio. After what seemed around five minutes of this, she raised herself up and wiped her mouth with the back of her left hand. She still held his cock lovingly in her right hand. "I think I'd like to straddle you," she announced, throwing her right leg over his body. "Oh, yes, please do. But, you know, I do not have a condom with me. Is that all right?" "It'll be fine. I just want Armand to get some pictures of that lovely cock of yours against my vagina. Remember what I said about my limits. That means I don't want you to stick it inside, OK?" Straddling Martin, who grunted something in response to her directive, Nancy leaned forward or her knees and gave him a deep kiss. Then they whispered something to each other, and I heard Nancy laugh. All the while, Armand and I were being treated to a glorious sight -- Martin's giant cock just beneath my wife's wide-open cunt and fully exposed asshole. Nancy held the position for maybe thirty seconds so Armand could get several good shots. Then, resting her upper body on Martin's chest, she reached between her legs with her right hand and seized Martin's erection again. Her hand looked quite small clutching such a huge cock. She then lowered her body very slowly, so as not to lose control over the degree of contact, until the big purple bulb at the end of his cock finally made contact with her cunt lips. "Oh, God," she gasped, "Can you feel that?" "Oh, yes, sit on it now please!" said Martin. "Please put it inside you now." Instead, still gripping the huge excited cock between her legs, my wife ran the head of it rather roughly back and forth along her very wet cunt lips. Martin groaned even louder and she began whimpering, a sure sign of her arousal, as she used his cock like a sex toy for at least two minutes. During a break in some Diana Krall song, I could actually hear a slurping sound coming from the genital contact. I watched very closely, meanwhile, trying to see if his cock was penetrating my beautiful wife, but if it was it was only very slightly. Nancy Loses Her Grip He groaned louder then, and I noticed him raising his knees and digging his heels into the carpet slightly. At the same time, Nancy, now very excited, somehow lost her grip on his cock. With my own dick again hard in my hand, I watched Martin suddenly thrust his pelvis upward, and almost half of his huge cock disappeared inside my wife's tight cunt! I heard her gasp as it remained lodged inside her. She tried at once to wriggle off of him, but her knees slipped slightly and it was several seconds before she could lift her ass high enough to get entirely free of the giant cock. Unless she's been lying to me for years, I knew she'd never had anything that thick in her before. Armand got the shot of her being penetrated, we learned later. It was the last one taken. Nancy, aroused though she was, rolled completely off of Martin's body. "I told you not to do that," she said. She wasn't exactly angry, but she addressed him firmly. "I think that's going to be enough photography for tonight, even if I didn't get a chance to cum," she concluded. She was sitting facing me now, with her legs spread. Then, to show that all was forgiven, she smiled at Martin and began openly masturbating. "God, that big cock of yours felt way too good in there! I'm really turned on," she said. "But I'm just going to have to finish on my own." Armand, who had set the camera down, said, "Maybe I can help." He slid toward her on his belly until his head was between her legs. "Just lie back and relax. I'm good at this." Nancy Does Double Duty She looked somewhat surprised at Armand taking such initiative but immediately (darting a quick look up to my peephole) lay back with her head on a pillow. From my perspective, her body lay at about five o'clock. As the pudgy Canadian spread her cunt with his thumbs and buried his face in it, her body jerked slightly and she made a little moaning sound. Meanwhile, Martin, stiff dick in hand and realizing she was not angry with him after all, crawled up next her and placed the end of his offending organ against her mouth. In between the gasps and other involuntary noises she was making in response to what Armand was doing between her legs, she licked and kissed the monstrous cock. She still didn't take it inside her mouth, though. Armand was really working diligently on Nancy's cunt with his mouth. I couldn't see what he was doing most of the time because his head was in the way, but when he occasionally came up for air I noticed that her whole crotch area, from her cunt hair to her asshole, was sopping wet. It looked to me like he'd been eating her asshole as well as her cunt. Meanwhile, Martin held his cock against my wife's mouth for almost a minute before (impatient with her less-than-full oral attention to it?) he took it firmly in hand, scooted forward an inch or so, and squatted slightly. Reaching down with his left hand to grasp her left breast, he gave the nipple a little pinch. Then, using his right hand, he began jacking off with his hairy balls lying against her mouth. I watched her tongue lashing his scrotum for maybe thirty seconds before he finally came, groaning loudly and in three powerful spurts, all over her tits, belly, and clumped-up blue dress. A little ended up on the carpet and I think a drop reached Martin's cunt-eating friend's forehead (who, briefly annoyed, raised his head up to wipe something off). As for Armand, I noticed he now had two fingers inside my wife's cunt as he licked and sucked her clit, and that she was on the verge of a much-delayed orgasm. Raising her head beneath Martin's still-hard cock, she looked down at Armand and stage-whispered, "Oh my God! Yes! I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" Hearing this, Armand fingerfucked her and sucked her clit even more energetically as she arched her back slightly, squealed, and let out a series of impossible-to-spell sounds. Nancy was having a very large orgasm and it seemed to last forever. I couldn't be sure exactly how long her orgasm lasted because I was having my own second one in the closet. It felt great, but it was almost spurtless. I don't think it contributed anything to the big mess on the wall I'd made earlier. With Armand's continued attentions to her clit, Nancy probably could have cum again (she's multi-orgasmic on her worst days), but after her long, noisy orgasm she pushed him away from her crotch and rolled over on her side in a fetal position to recover. She lay like this for quite a while, her eyes closed, gradually bringing her breathing back under control. Finally, she reached up and accepted Martin's help to stand up. Armand stood up, too, and walked into the kitchen. He didn't appear to have an erection, which surprised me at first until I noticed a wet patch on the front of his trousers. He returned seconds later with several paper towels. He walked over to where my slightly dazed wife stood now entirely naked (she'd let her blue dress fall to the floor) maybe four feet in front of my peephole. Using the towels, he wiped Martin's semen off her breasts and belly. As he did so he thoroughly manhandled her breasts, and he reached down to give her cunt a final affectionate fingering when he was finished. Clearing the Set Martin was pulling on his boxer shorts and trousers, meanwhile, and smiling at his friend's ministrations to my wife. When he was fully dressed, except for his jacket, he embraced her, gave her a little kiss, and patted her beautiful bare ass. He said something about their having to go back to their motel. She thanked the two of them then, as they got their jackets on and prepared to leave, for their "help." As they were leaving, I heard Armand ask for her phone number. She just laughed and said she didn't think that would be a good idea given the uncertainty in her marriage. But, she said, they had her address and could write her anytime they liked. Gorgeous and naked, she closed the door behind her lucky visitors and turned to smile at me as I walked over to her for a big hug. Embracing, we listened to them walking away down the corridor. "Damn! That guy actually fucked you!" I whispered. "I'm not sure that counts," said Nancy. "He got inside somehow, but it was just for a second or two, wasn't it?" "How do you feel about getting fucked by another guy, even if it didn't last long?" I asked. "And what was it like having such a big one in you?" She laughed. "Well, I hope you enjoyed watching it. It felt a lot like yours, actually. I know Martin's cock is really big, but my cunt was so wet and excited by rubbing against the end of it that when he went inside it didn't feel any bigger than yours. Armand sticking his tongue in my ass was actually more exciting." I started to pursue this topic with her when she got a somewhat serious expression on her face. "As for the no-penetration rule, that still goes. This was a mechanical slip-up tonight, that's all. In the future, I'll have to be more careful." I had mixed feeling about this. I liked her casual reference to "in the future"; it meant there'd be more horny adventures of this sort on the way [note to readers: there have been]. I even liked the idea of her being "loyal" to me. But the prospect of watching her getting a really hard fucking – that was becoming more and more interesting to me. Oh well, as dilemmas went, this really didn't amount to much of one at all. We took a shower together and went right to bed. She held my half-rigid cock in her hand for a while, then released it as she fell asleep. In the morning, we checked out the photographs and discovered that they were nearly all keepers. My favorite, though not hers, is the one of Martin's giant cock buried halfway up her cunt.