Noun “compersion”: /kəmˈpɝʒən/
1. Vicarious joy associated with seeing one’s partner have a joyful romantic or sexual relation with another.
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New Year’s Eve is over-rated. At least that’s what we’d both often felt. Everyone has this idea that they need to party ‘just because’ and then there’s lots of yelling to countdown the final 10 seconds of the current year. Most of the time those celebrations are entirely forgettable…Except for that one time we decided just to head out to a dinner for two at a local french restaurant.
Nicole, my wife, was born in France; the daughter of a Count with a family tree stretching back centuries and the vineyards and property appropriately passing from generation to generation. Nicole’s nobility upbringing manifested itself in an extrovert personality, think sparkling conversation and never a dull moment, matched with an elegant style, think Chanel with pearls and the family crest on her pinky finger. Befitting the intriguing background, Nicole inherited a classical beauty you might already be envisaging; Grace Kelly looks, 5ft 7in, thick strawberry blonde hair, an incredibly elegant and sexy smile and sparkling blue eyes. My wife is also endowed with a wonderfully shapely playground of a body which she had often demurely downplayed, being of the opinion that men are only attracted to supermodel types; this evening she was to be proven wrong.
I’d booked a booth table at Mon Ami Gabi, classically french, bustling and lively but I knew we’d get great service and excellent food. We planned an 8.00pm dinner knowing that we’d probably avoid all the crazy drunk drivers and be heading home before midnight. The maître d’ greeted us and inevitably a rapid-fire conversation in fluent french passed between him and my wife; in any event he escorted us to one of their most intimate tables and introduced us to Pascal who would be our waiter for the evening.
Pascal attentively brought us our glasses of champagne as we perused the menu and leaned over Nicole to answer her questions and make his recommendations. It didn’t surprise me that my wife chose her favorite Escargots, which Pascal had assured her were “just like home” while I ordered the Little Gem salad. On Pascal’s advice we both ordered the Trout Almondine and I chose a Chablis 1er Cru “Les Vaillons” which I knew to be not just a great wine but also from the region where Nicole’s family originated.
“You know he was flirting with you.” I stated more as fact than question as we toasted the champagne.
“Who?” Nicole replied, acting naive but with a telling grin.
I laughed. “Your new friend Pascal was unnecessarily close leaning in to guide you through the menu. I suspect he was far from disappointed at the view down your décolleté.”
“Oh I doubt it, he’s half my age anyway. But I love that you’re a little jealous!” My wife replied breaking out one of her huge smiles, eyes and all.
Before I could answer Pascal arrived with our first course and another hefty dose of attentiveness as he made a conscientious point to shake out Nicole’s white linen napkin and carefully place it across her lap.
Alone again, I picked up our conversation where Nicole had left off. “Not jealous, but I’m pretty sure he would have liked to have stroked his hand across your knee when he laid that napkin down.”
“I’m flattered if he would really be interested in me, but I think he was just being nice.”
The conversation turned to other things as we enjoyed our food, staff came along and cleared plates, until Pascal returned to top up our wine glasses and make conversation with us. Nicole joked with him in french and whispering some sort of conspiratorial riposte Pascal touched Nicole’s shoulder, his finger tips resting gently, almost imperceptibly, on the bare skin above her navy off-the-shoulder Ralph Lauren dress. Despite the laughter, we had both noticed.
As we turned to our main course, I raised my eyebrows at Nicole. “See. Don’t tell me you didn’t feel his touch lingering on you just now.” I teased.
Nicole blushed slightly but beamed with delight. “It does a middle-aged woman good to have her ego stroked. You should be proud to have such an attractive wife.”
“Oh I am. And I also think that, like most men, he’d like to be stroking a lot more of you than just your ego.” I winked back at Nicole, causing her to blush just a tiny bit more.
“You’re so sweet! But I think that would really make you jealous.” My wife suggested.
“I wouldn’t be jealous. Firstly I’m proud and happy that he finds my wife so attractive. But more importantly I’m turned on by your pleasure; it’s a wild concept but I love to see you, to look at you, to watch you at any time, in any…uh…situation.”
Nicole looked around confirming we were out of earshot then nevertheless lowered her voice. “I know we’ve played these fantasies but do you think you could ever really do it?”
I nodded and explained “Well, I wish for you only happiness, pleasure and enjoyment and my love for you is so great that it’s actually a small step to allowing you the freedom of one-off physical pleasure. The idea is actually incredibly erotic and jealousy doesn’t exist if I’m there and you have permission to indulge freely.”
“I still don’t know if I could.” Nicole replied. “Besides, flirting is one thing but that doesn’t mean that a young guy like Pascal would want to actually do anything with an older woman like me.”
I noted that Nicole wasn’t excluding the possibility entirely. “You underestimate how sexy an experienced mature woman is with curves in all the right places and knowing exactly what she wants. I guarantee you that if the opportunity would arise for you then so would Pascal.”
“How would it even happen?” My wife asked. Then “Oh my gosh, I’ve had one glass too many. I don’t know what I’m even saying.”
We laughed together and clinked glasses. “Cheers!”
Wait staff appeared out of nowhere to clear our plates and Pascal returned once more to top up our glasses and offer dessert. Politely handing Nicole the menu he looked my wife directly in the eyes “Everything is wonderful but Madame should really have the profiteroles! They are full, soft, and the sauce tastes delightfully sensual.”
Nicole nodded in the affirmative, smiling her gorgeous smile at him. “Sounds wonderful. I’m all in.”
Pascal looked at me. “Monsieur?”
“Sounds good for sharing.” I looked at Nicole and then nodded at Pascal.
Nicole leaned towards me whispering. “Oh my gosh, that was so naughty. So many double entendres there I could hardly keep up! Phew. Excuse me though, I’m just going to use the ladies room, back in a minute.”
As Nicole walked away I looked over at Pascal and saw him watching her; I caught his eye and gave him that slight of nod of my head to summon him over.
He looked guilty. “Sorry Monsieur…”
“No problem Pascal. My wife is an attractive woman.”
“Mai oui Monsieur. Although I should not have looked at a customer like that.”
I decided then to go fishing. “So tell me Pascal. If a lady welcomed such attention would you be free to oblige?”
Pascal hesitated briefly. “No question Monsieur, assuming that her husband was as understanding as you obviously are.”
“Hypothetically, if that were that the case…” I continued. “What time do you finish tonight?”
“In about half an hour Monsieur, we don’t serve food after 10.00pm.”
Just then Nicole came back to take her seat and Pascal turned to accept the profiteroles being delivered by one of the wait staff. After placing the desert in front of my wife he made a great show of smoothly pouring the hot chocolate fudge over the cold pastries. “Such a beautiful dessert Madame deserves to be caressed, savored, melting slowly under the fingers of chocolate that run down its sides.”
Nicole looked at me wide-eyed after Pascal left. “What was that about?”
I shrugged. “Maybe you finally believe me?” I offered. “I also caught him watching you as you walked to the rest room.”
“Did you say something?” Nicole asked.
“Yes. I asked him what time he finished work?”
“What?” Nicole paused briefly, then peppered me with questions. “Why did you ask? Did you mean it? What did he say?”
We enjoyed the dessert for a moment. I paused also, taking a sip of the excellent Chablis. Then delivered my wife her answers.
“In reverse order. Pascal finishes work soon and left no room for doubt that he wants you. Second, yes I meant it and let me tell you why.” I smiled at my wife as she looked back at me in wonderment. I paused again for another sip of wine and continued.
“Why did I ask him? My love for you is immeasurable and complete. You are the most beautiful and attractive woman for me and I know our hearts are forever entwined. Yes, we have an incredible sex life and it’s no secret between us that we can be turned on by many people. We play games to excite each other because we both love to make each other happy, to give each other pleasure. I don’t just want to give you the joy of sexual ecstasy, I want to allow you the gift of a different pleasure that you’d never experience otherwise.”
Nicole placed down her spoon and picked up her glass. Looking at me over the rim, she whispered. “What’s in it for you though?”
“For me? I ask only to be allowed to appreciate the sight of my gorgeous wife in the throws of rapture. I always love to see your naked body anyway and you are so exciting to me that I want to witness it; the eroticism of the event and your enjoyment is my reward.”
Nicole leaned towards me raising her glass. “I love you so much and I love how you think of me and see me.” We clinked cheers.
Waving at Pascal the universal sign for the check, I excused myself to head to the men’s room. As I stood I whispered in Nicole’s ear. “You have a couple of minutes to decide. I meant what I said. I’d love to see him fuck you.” I smiled to myself as I walked away knowing that Nicole was undoubtedly speechless and probably blushing.
Returning to our table I saw that Pascal had been standing alongside engaged in deep conversation with my wife; she was looking up at him and her blue eyes were smoldering with lust. I gave Pascal my American Express and he thanked me as he headed away to swipe it.
“You’ve got about 20 seconds to decide.” I grinned at Nicole then glanced over towards the station where Pascal was charging my card. “Ten…”
Nicole picked up her glass of wine and drained the remainder in one gulp.
“Five.” I said. “Four…”
She whispered. “Let’s do it.”
——————–
I sat in the deep cushions of the Queen Anne chair we have in our bedroom, kicking off my shoes and lifting my feet to stretch my legs on the blue and white striped footstool. A crystal glass of wine stood on the wooden ottoman beside me. The warmth of the fireplace making us all feel comfortable.
Pascal stepped forward towards my wife and Nicole raised her arms to wrap them around his neck. He murmured something softly in french and their lips met briefly, then again, then passionately as Nicole’s lips open to invite his tongue. His hands stroked up her back to her bare neck and shoulders, caressing her soft, pink, slightly freckled skin and the goosebumps signaling her arousal.
Nicole pulled Pascal’s shirt from his waist and unbuttoned it as his hands slid up to cup her face then further as his fingers threaded into my wife’s thick hair. He pulled her head back, tilting her mouth up towards his once more as Nicole pushed his shirt over his shoulders and dropped it to the floor as Pascal devoured her mouth.
Nicole broke their kiss. She looked Pascal in the eyes, his handsome face framed by his wavy dark brown hair. Her hands on his impressively muscular chest, sliding down across his taught abdomen then further to unbuckle his belt, pulling it free and tossing it aside. She took a step away, turning to face me, her back to Pascal; Nicole raised her hands behind her head bunching up her hair in a sexy pose.
“Unzip me please.” Nicole was talking to Pascal but looking at me. We smiled at each other and she blew me a silent kiss as the dress fell loose around her torso. Nicole lowered her arms and gave the dress a gentle push to slide it over her hips, stepping out of as it dropped to the floor.
Pascal knelt behind my wife helping her to slip off her shoes and sliding down her black stockings to leave her only in her black lace strapless bra and matching Hunkemöller panties. As Pascal arose he slid his hands up the outside of Nicole’s legs, up her thighs, and out over the curves of her hips to the indent of her waist. Despite the warmth of the fire she shivered slightly with nervousness and anticipation as he kissed up her back and across the side of her neck.
Nicole had been staring at me the whole time, now she grinned broadly and raised her eyebrows in a question. I nodded. My wife turned to face Pascal. Reaching behind her back Nicole unhooked her bra and as Pascal bit his bottom lip in anticipation my wife dropped her bra to reveal her perfectly sized 36C breasts to him.
“Magnifique.” Pascal croaked as he moved close to Nicole encircling her with his arms, her nipples pressing softly into his hard chest. I watched their tongues delving between each other’s lips, hands brushing across bare skin, passion clearly building. Nicole took Pascal’s hand and steered him gently towards the king-size bed; tossing the pillows aside she looked at me once more for reassurance. My huge smile told my wife all she needed to know and she climbed up onto the bed as Pascal slipped off the remainder of his clothes.
Nicole gave a little gasp and as Pascal joined her on the bed I saw why. His cock was also ‘magnifique’, not huge but I estimated around 7 inches, smooth, shiny hard, and nicely thick; his reaction to my wife’s’s mature figure and 150lbs was beyond obvious. Pascal’s fingertips traced up and down Nicole’s body, his hands caressing over her valleys and hills before coming to rest on her hips at the edge of the black lace. Curling his fingers slightly Pascal started to roll Nicole’s remaining garment over her thighs as my wife pushed down on her toes and raised herself up off the bed. Pascal slowly completed the removal of Nicole’s panties by feel only, his eyes fixed on her shaven pussy, her lips glistening with anticipatory wetness.
Nicole blushed self-consciously at Pascal’s staring as he relished the sights of her sensuality, his hands once again tracing her curves. I couldn’t blame him, I swallowed at the mouthwatering sight of my wife’s soft body as she now reveled in his gaze and his touch.
Pascal licked his lips. “Tu est belle…” He said softly, telling Nicole just how beautiful he found her as he kissed each of her raised knees while gently nudging them apart. He kissed the inside of her right thigh, once, further up, twice, a little further, again; Nicole must have been able to feel his breath on her before he switched to the inside of her left thigh following the same pattern of kisses, a little higher each time. She shuddered in anticipation then reached forward and grasped his hair pulling his face to her body, his mouth against her wetness. Nicole moaned as Pascal slipped his tongue into her, kissed her inner thighs and licked her lower lips once more. Nicole continued to grasp a handful of his hair as Pascal worked continuous magic between her legs, her other hand squeezed and pulled at her own breasts, her head writhing from side to side, her golden hair contrasting elegantly on the white pillow; occasional gasps and moans of delight escaped her.
I was torn. On the one hand I had a physical yearning to join them on the bed, on the other I was experiencing the almost overwhelming emotional delight of seeing the ripples of joy my wife was receiving from the gift I had granted her. I resisted the urge to touch myself, feeling that at some point even the slightest stimulation will likely make me explode in orgasm and I didn’t want that to happen too soon.
Nicole gasped loudly, her hands gripped the cotton sheets. Pascal was trailing soft kisses up across her belly, her ribs, the underside of her breasts, her nipples; but it was the rhythmic motion of his right arm that signaled to me his fingers were working in and out of my wife. As Nicole writhed beneath him, her eyes tightly closed, initial waves of orgasm bubbling through her, I marveled at how Pascal’s strong back that tapered down to his tight butt contrasted so erotically with my wife’s curvaceousness.
Pascal moved from kissing Nicole’s body raising himself up and kneeling between her legs. He reached down to guide his erection towards her waiting entrance. Nicole placed her left hand on his chest.
“Attendez.” She told him. “Wait.”
Reaching her right hand out towards me I rose and took the two steps to the bed taking my wife’s hand. I leaned in to tenderly kiss her lips.
“Are you sure?” Nicole asked quietly
“Is it good?” I replied. Nicole swallowed, clenched my hand tighter and nodded biting her bottom lip. “Then yes I’m sure more than ever. I want you to have this thrill.”
Not letting go of my hand Nicole lifted her head and shoulders off the pillow to look down at Pascal’s hard flesh between her thighs. “Baise moi…” She told him. “Fuck me…”
We both watched as Pascal paced the tip of his cock against Nicole’s already soaking pussy lips. He pushed his hips up slightly to enter her and the first inch slid inside. Nicole inhaled sharply. Pascal pushed forward another inch. My own cock twitched at the sublime eroticism of Pascal’s generous shaft so smoothly burying itself in my wife.
“He’s in me.” Nicole stated the obvious looking up into my eyes. I leaned forward to kiss her once more.
“Enjoy.” I said. Kissing the back of my wife’s hand before releasing it and sitting back down in my armchair.
Nicole moved her hands to Pascal’s hips and pulled, he took the signal and slid forward in one fluid movement delivering all 7 inches of himself inside Nicole. She cried out in pleasure, head back, mouth open, fingernails digging into his skin. Pascal gasped gutturally “Tu es incroyable.” I grinned to myself, unsurprised that he found my wife so amazing.
Pascal pulled back, leaving barely and inch inside her. Nicole held her breath. He slid tenderly inside her once more. Nicole moaned. Her hands roamed across his chest, his abdomen, then back down to his sides. As Pascal drew backwards once more Nicole tugged urgently, guiding him back until he was once more fully inside her. Now my wife pushed until Pascal’s cock was briefly exposed again then she pulled once more while also thrusting her hips up towards his. The first slap of skin on skin seemed to echo in the silent rapture.
“Harder.” Nicole growled. Pascal didn’t need to be told twice as he speeded up the long strokes pumping in and out of my wife. Over and over, his superb cock thrusting, powering, stabbing at Nicole’s greedy opening. Pascal’s hands squeezed, stroked and caressed Nicole’s curves; he pounded faster and faster, a slight sheen of sweat on his skin was mirrored in the wetness that Nicole’s pussy bestowed upon his unflagging flesh.
Nicole started to shake, first her legs, then her torso, she gasped lungfuls of air, her face screwed up in ecstatic joy as the endorphins flowed, her face and chest flushed red, she cried out as Pascal continued to pummel into her, harder and harder, faster, higher as if trying to reach ever deeper. His back arched, arms supporting himself, shaking, his muscles clenching, Pascal exploded, following Nicole into a massive orgasm. He stopped momentarily. Then thrust again. And again. Firing hard. He collapsed onto her.
“Tu es une femme incroyable.” Pascal repeated. Nicole’s flushed red cheeks couldn’t reveal if she had blushed at the compliment. They kissed between laughter and deep breaths.
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Nicole nudged Pascal to roll away and waved me over, a enormous grin across her face. She pulled me down, inviting my tongue to slither with hers. Her hand slid to my own cock finding it rock hard, leaking with excitement and desperate to reclaim her. We both knew the evening was not over yet. “Happy New Year!”
“Thank you.” She said. “I love you so much!”