My name is Shelly, and I love giving my husband a hard-on. It is one of my joys in life. I guess I’m a bit of a control freak. And the ability to make my husband’s cock swell is certainly control! Don’t get me wrong, I like sex too. But the foreplay leading up to it, really making my husband yearn for it, is a thrill. Even talking about it makes my heart race and my juices flow. I guess I’m a bit of a tease as well, but only with my husband. I have never strayed, nor ever plan to.
And I’m really good at it, and enjoy being good at it. There are so many ways I do it, and my husband is an easy play. So much easily excites him. The way I seductively kiss him, or allow my breasts to just graze him in passing. Or by the provocative outfits I wear, and how I do my hair, nails, and makeup. Even a seductive look or whisper tends to get his engine going. And then there are the high heels. Lots of high heels. I don’t know how many I own! But they are a huge weapon in my arsenal. I have perfected a walk that highlights the sway of my hips, causes the cheeks of my bubble butt to contract violently, and my large breasts to bounce perfectly.
My husband is truly the joy of my life. I love him so much. He is a great man and a great leader. I have such a fulfilled, loving, committed marriage.
After saving for years, my husband finally fulfilled his promise to me. A year overseas living in a Mediterranean villa. We selected a fairly secluded property, not too far from a large European city. When we arrived, I could not have been more pleased. The place was large and immaculate. While marble floors with bright walls and ceilings. The entire place had the typical bright white Mediterranean look, with high ceilings and flowing white cascading silk drapes. I was in heaven. I could just picture myself striding around, my high heels clicking on the hard marble, my tanned complexion contrasting against the white backdrop.
There was just one major oversight. The villa had also been rented by another person. A young man, much younger than my husband and I. Pablo was cute and seemed nice, probably Brazilian. We were all a bit confused by the mixup. Pablo arrived a week ago to receive some special treatment only offered at the local hospital. He had chosen the villa for the healthy fresh air, and the nearby bus stop that could take him to the hospital.
We called our booking company, and they were no help. We certainly didn’t want to kick out this young man to the curb. But I REALLY liked the villa and wanted to stay. My husband and I talked, and since it sounded like Pablo’s stay may not last very long, we all agreed to make the best of it. With the mild Mediterranean climate, the villa was full of open spaces. It would be easy to stay out of each other’s way. We each took a master suite on opposite ends of the main house. In between the rooms was an expansive living area, containing a large chef’s kitchen, and multiple living and dining spaces.
Still, I had some reservations.
“There’s not a lot of privacy, sharing that main area with Pablo,” I complained to my husband later that night.
“Oh don’t worry, honey. There’s plenty of space in this villa. Let’s make the best of it.”
My husband found a bit of an office nook in our master bedroom where he planned to spend much of his day, working his job remotely. But I was still a bit disappointed with the situation. I had been dreaming about our stay for years. I had slowly been buying new provocative outfits just for our Mediterranean stay. Yet with my husband hiding in our master suite, and Pablo often hanging around the main area, how was I going to tease my husband?
It took some adjustments, but I slowly found how to make it work. With Pablo around, I kept to my most reserved outfits. I often wore a loose wrap that I could leave open in our master suite, but close the material around me when I went into the main area. With my husband focused on his computer screen, my weapons of arousal were limited. Still, I found that I could lean over his shoulder, pressing my chest against his back, whispering suggestive remarks in his ear. Just when he began to notice me, and I began to notice his crotch beginning to bulge, the tease in me would walk away.
Pablo was a very nice young man. His thick Portuguese accent was so fun to listen to. I found myself finding excuses to chat with him. He was so comfortable to be with. I was so glad that our shared housing situation was working. In fact, Pablo was a bit of a gift. I had not realized how easily bored I could become without the regular distractions I had back home.
I was not disappointed to occasionally catch Pablo eye’s following my supple figure. While I am fully faithful to my husband, what woman isn’t pleased when another man notices them? I made sure to cover myself appropriately around Pablo, though my wrap could only hide so much. I still fixed up my long wavy hair as always, applying makeup and doing my nails as if I was a celebrity. I was still on vacation, afterall! Eventually, I missed the feel of those high heels on my feet. So I tossed my flip flops aside, and finally enjoyed the sound of them clicking on the marble.
This certainly made it easy for Pablo to find me. Wherever I walked, I was announcing my presence. I chuckled to myself, at Pablo’s behavior. He was expertly finding a way to always be around me, positioning himself for a good view. He was a man after all, I reflected. No harm in that. And I had become quite comfortable around him anyway. Sometimes we would drink coffee or share a glass of wine, seated opposite each other at our kitchen nook or one of the outside patios.
One afternoon, while my husband and I were preparing dinner, Pablo returned from one of his treatments at the hospital and joined us. I could tell there was something on his mind. He seemed almost depressed. After we cleared the table, Pablo broke his silence.
“I need to tell you all something. It is a bit embarrassing.” He paused to catch his breath.
“I am so grateful for letting me stay here. I think there is something you should know,” he continued.
My husband and I leaned forward in our seats, giving our support to Pablo. We both liked him and cared for him. Often my husband would recreate with Pablo outside in the evenings. Their friendship seemed as comfortable as mine was with him.
Pablo continued, “I have cancer. Testicular cancer.”
My husband and I gasped, offering our condolences. What a surprise to learn that a deadly disease lived inside such a strong, healthy young man.
“I have tried all of the treatments. None of them have worked. I am here because this hospital is doing a trial treatment on me. It is my last hope.”
Pablo nervously swallowed. There was obviously more to tell.
“The trial treatment requires me to ejaculate my sperm daily. This will cleanse my testicles. This can be a difficult thing for me because of their instructions. I cannot masterbate. I cannot watch porn. Those methods would taint the cleansing.”
We tried to mask our looks of surprise and confusion.
“You happened to arrive at just the right time. With no girlfriend to help me ejaculate naturally, I was losing hope that I could continue my treatment.”
This was getting a bit awkward. What was he getting at?
“The medication I am on makes it easier to reach a climax.” Pablo looked at my husband. “I have been watching your wife, and climaxing in my pants.” Pablo immediately looked down in shame.
My husband and I glanced at each other. Without any special treatment medication, my husband had always struggled with any kind of sexual endurance. Ejaculating in his pants had occurred to him on more than one occasion. I expected him to answer Pablo with understanding and kindness.
“Pablo, look at me,” my husband said. “There is no need to feel shame. Thank you for being honest with me. That shows real maturity and character. We trust you.”
My husband continued to take the lead. “Why don’t you let me and my wife talk about this privately, and we will see you tomorrow.” With that, Pablo got up and walked to his room.
In the privacy of our master suite I spoke, “I don’t know what to say. How odd. How gross! How sad.”
My husband and I discussed the situation at length. My loving husband was so concerned for my feelings. He didn’t want me to feel used or unprotected. So he wanted to hear from me and my wishes before he made a decision.
My husband said, “If Pablo had never told us what was going on, we would have never known. And he would still be able to continue his treatment. It took a lot of courage for him to tell us. It seems wrong to now punish him for his honesty. And there was nothing wrong or immoral going on before, and knowing now doesn’t change that.”
I nodded in agreement.
He continued, “So do we agree we can tell Pablo tomorrow that he can continue to stay at the villa. That he can continue to watch you, as gross as that sounds?”
I nodded again, and we held each other in a long embrace. I never felt closer to my husband. He has always been so kind and sensitive to others.
So after telling Pablo the next day, we continued our days as usual. I must say that initially it was very disarming. As I walked around the villa, with Pablo’s eyes following me, I did not like it anymore. I felt like a piece of meat. During our conversations, when his eyes strayed to my body, I became bitter. I felt like he had been using me. I was always thinking about him blowing his load in his pants. My husband quickly picked up on my funk.
“Honey, what’s bothering you. Is this new arrangement not working.”
“I don’t know,” I replied. “It seems different now. I don’t know how to act normal around Pablo.”
My husband paused in thought. Always quick to listen. He wanted to help.
“Has Pablo been mean to you?” I shook my head.
“Has Pablo done something wrong?” Again I shook my head.
“Do you think Pablo is a good person?” I nodded.
My husband was deep in thought. “You know how you often give me hugs during the day, or tease me with your walk?”
I nodded and smiled, pleased that my husband was aware of my intentional flirtations with him.
Smiling as well, my husband continued. “Well, you are really good at it. It comes natural to you, almost a gift. Perhaps you need to allow yourself to be more natural with Pablo, and that can remove this wall between the two of you.”
I don’t know, I thought to myself. There was a big difference between tantalizing my husband and flirting with another man. My mind was conflicted, but I didn’t want to speak it out loud. To my husband, it was not that complicated. He just didn’t understand the practical immorality of it all.
My husband waited, expecting a reply from me. He was hoping to bring resolution to my conflict. He loved a happy wife.
Eventually I nodded. “That makes sense, honey. Thanks for helping out,” as I got up and gave him a hug.
Slowly I became more comfortable around Pablo. Occasionally we would even chat about our strange situation over our glass of wine.
My husband thought it best for the three of us to review Pablo’s treatment at a weekly Sunday dinner.
“So, how’s the treatment going, Pablo,” my husband asked.
“OK, I guess. I feel fine. This past week I only hit my goal 5 times.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“I am supposed to ejaculate once a day. My goal is 7 times.”
Concern on his face, my husband asked, “Why did you not meet your goal?”
“My body is slowly becoming more numb to stimulation. It is becoming harder to climax.”
My husband glanced over at me. We had already agreed that any uncomfortable conversations should be had openly with all three of us.
“What can we do to help?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I feel bad suggesting anything. Your wife is so beautiful. I really enjoy her company. Perhaps she can dress more…” Pablo paused. “Sexy?”
How ironic, I thought. I had been working so hard to not dress sexy, to protect the covenant of our marriage. And now the very thing I was doing was hurting Pablo. An awkward tension hung in the air.
Looking at me, my husband said, “Do you think you can do that honey?”
Slowly I nodded. You bet I could, more than he knew.
That night in bed, we talked some more. We wanted to have a clear plan.
“It feels weird to know that another man is ejaculating before my own husband enjoys me. It just seems wrong,” I said.
Sensitive to my feelings, my husband nodded. His eyes lit up as he proposed, “What if you made sure you serviced me first each day. Would that make you feel better?” He used air quotes when he said “serviced.” We both knew what he was talking about.
I thought about his suggestion. I really enjoyed our attempt at evening sex, but I equally enjoyed teasing my husband. Would it be possible that I could cause two men to both blow their load in their pants each day. It was a challenge I chose to accept.
I gradually began to wear more of my provocative outfits. I was surprised how easy it was to bring my husband to climax each morning. In the past, I always limited my teasing, wanting to be able to continue tormenting him throughout the day. But now with Pablo waiting in the wings, I gave my husband the full meal deal, leading him quickly to ejaculation. Then I spent the rest of the day with Pablo. But I always made sure my husband received my firstfruits of the day.
Rather than becoming desensitized, my husband was becoming more sensitized. It was certainly flattering that I could bring my husband to climax after a few minutes of parading around our room, and then pressing up next to him. On the other hand, Pablo’s endurance was increasing. His beautiful smile was always a clear indicator if I was causing him to become aroused. I tried to keep tabs on when he climaxed. When he ejaculated, I asked him to let me know, before he went and cleaned himself up. At our weekly meeting, Pablo explained he was now hitting his goal.
I figured it was time to really dip into my special wardrobe. This morning I put on low-waisted denim jeans. Rather than the cheap stretch material, I loved wearing true denim. It seemed to cling to my body even more, highlighting my assets. I wore a pair of 3-inch heels below the frayed edges of the jeans. A few scattered threadbare holes in my thighs exposed my supple tan skin. A skimpy tight white tank top exposed my tanned arms, shoulders, and back. The short tank top and low cut jeans exposed my narrow waist, firm tummy, and sexy lower back. A colorful half-cup bra held my breasts in place, partially visible under the thin white tank top.
I walked around our master suite, giving my husband a full view of my figure. When he came to climax more quickly than usual, I was a bit disappointed. My favorite part of the day ended in minutes.
I strode into the main room a bit frustrated. Pablo greeted me with a smile when he saw me. At least I had Pablo. It was only 9 am. A little shiver tingled my body as I forgot about my husband, and focused on the day ahead. Nothing was planned, other than to bring this young stud to constant arousal.
Removing all reservations, I intentionally walked around in front of Pablo, like a mating animal looking for attention. The sound of my high heels echoed in the large space, making me feel I was on a stage, though for an audience of one. I strode passed Pablo with exaggerating motions, making sure the swaying of my hips attracted his attention. Stopping in front of him, I turned to look out a window. My bubble butt planted in front of his face, my heels extending my curves toward him. I wiggled imperceptibly, wondering if Pablo wished he could get his hands on my round cheeks. I bent over and organized the coffee table magazines. My low cut tank top gave him a full view of the top of my hanging pert breasts.
This pattern continued throughout the day, and I was in heaven. Sprinkled into the mix was meaningful conversations with Pablo. My husband and I would share lunch together as he took a quick break. But Pablo and I had much more time in our schedule to really converse. I would sit across from him, my sexy legs crossed, listening to his sensuous Brazilian accent. Staring into my eyes, beautifully prepared with mascara and eyeliner, he would share his hopes and dreams. While we were talking, he would often sneak glances at my chest, rising and falling with my breathing.
As evening approached, I focused my efforts with Pablo, wanting him to reach his goal for the day. By then my husband would join us, though he rarely paid much attention to me. His libido satisfied by his morning release, he was more interested in the view outside than the view inside. My conscience never fully accepted that what we were doing was moral. Especially when strutting around Pablo, laughing and flirting with him, all in front of my husband. I simply knew it was wrong. But when around Pablo, my body always felt right.
At our next Sunday meeting, Pablo once again gave us an update. The treatment continued to show promise. The doctors also confirmed that Pablo may have to work harder to meet his goals.
“Has there been a problem with your goals?” my husband asked with a concerned look on his face.
“No, not really,” Pablo answered.
I clarified, “Well, I have noticed that it is getting later and later in the day by the time you ejaculate. At this rate, we will need to stay up until midnight!”
With that, we all chuckled.
“Any suggestions?” my husband asked.
“What works for you?” Pablo asked my husband. I had confidentially shared with Pablo the morning arrangement with my husband. I hoped that my husband would assume this was a general question, not exposing this breach of trust.
Not skipping a beat, my husband answered, “Well, I’m a big fan of hugs. My wife gives the best!”
And with that, we all decided that I should start sharing hugs with Pablo, hoping a bit of affection would maintain meeting his goals.
The next morning I was a bit nervous about the day. I couldn’t remember the last time I hugged another man. I spent extra time getting ready. I chose a high waisted baby blue pencil skirt and a silky black blouse. Matching black thongs, bra, and ankle strapped heels completed the outfit. The bra was one of the thinnest I owned. I told myself that was simply a coincidence, but my body knew I had intentionally picked that one. I wanted my first hug with Pabloo to be memorable. I wanted to limit the fabric between his chiseled chest and my supple tits.
I serviced my husband earlier than usual, and paraded into the main room, the skirt tight against my toned legs and curvy hips. Wasting no time, I walked directly to Pablo and stood in front of him. With my heels on, he was only 3 inches taller than me. Perfect height for a sensual embrace. Before I put my arms around him, I wondered why I had failed to really notice his build before. He was a very handsome man. Wide defined shoulders, a muscular chest, and rippled arms. Yet a boyish face, reflecting a young man barely 21 years old.
I raised my arms, placed them on his shoulders, and then wrapped them around his neck as far as possible. This brought my chest in contact with his. I immediately felt my nipples harden as blood rushed into the sensitive glands. Pablo placed his hands on my lower back, gently pressing me toward him. I shuffled my high-heel clad feet forward, my narrow feet in between his legs. The entire lengths of our warm bodies were now pressed against each other. I could feel my blood pounding in all parts of my body, and could sense the same in him.
Skillful in teasing talk, I whispered in his ear, “How’s this feel, big boy.”
“Nice,” was all Pablo could mutter, taking a deep swallow.
I began to feel more pressure on my tummy, as his cock seemed to grow.
“I should say so!” I exclaimed, both of us giggling in turn, our bodies clinging even closer as we squeezed each other affectionately. This was the first time I had actually felt his cock swell.
The rest of the day was a bit of a dream for me. I was finally in my element. I felt buzzed at times, almost drunk. In fact, we finished a full bottle of wine that evening, making me a bit shaky on my heels.
My high-waisted skirt and invisible thong gave Pablo no reference point for where to put his hands around me when we hugged. Throughout the morning, his hands were placed in the middle of my back, at the top of my skirt. During our afternoon hugs, his hands moved more to my lower back. Each hug I could feel his member harden next to my firm soft tummy.
As we strode around the patio together, a beautiful sunset appeared on the horizon. My husband, a lover of sunsets, ran out to take a picture. He asked to frame the two of us in his picture. We put our arms around each other’s waists, my left breast pressed firmly into the side of his torso.
“Oh, step apart, just a foot. The sun is right between you.” my husband shouted.
After a few more pics, “No, it’s not just right. Reach out and hold each other’s hands.”
A shock of sensation shot through me as our fingers intertwined.
Satisfied, my husband walked back into the house, leaving his wife holding hands with a strange man we had only known for a few weeks. It really was a beautiful moment. We turned, looked into each other’s eyes, and embraced. Pablo placed his hands much lower, balanced on the top half of each of my curved ass checks. I smiled as I looked up to meet his gaze.
Giving my ass a squeeze, he whispered, “Is this alright?”
“Yes,” I could barely whisper back.
With the sun setting, the day was coming to an end. I continued to press against Pablo, helping to stimulate his sex organ. Using my soft hands and sexy nails, I sensually rubbed his neck and shoulders. Pablo gently squeezed and stroked my hips and upper butt. As he neared climax, we gripped each other tightly. I felt violent vibrations against my tummy, his orgasm lasting at least 30 seconds. I could only imagine how full his specially designed catch-basin condom had become.
As Pablo returned to his room, I sat down on a patio chair. I was quite flushed and not just from the wine. I realized how much sexual tension had been built up in my body. With no nightly sex, and only moderate stimulation with my husband in the morning, my body was sex-starved. A simple hug with Pablo did not come close to satisfying my need, but it certainly helped. My conscience was telling my mind to be careful. My body was in a susceptible position.
Over the next couple of weeks, my life fell into a new pattern. Getting out of bed each morning was so exciting. After connecting with my husband, I would spend the day with a bronzed hunk half my age. Now even more comfortable with each other, our intentional affection grew. As we walked around hand in hand, or arm in arm, it seemed almost dreamy. My need for sensual attention seemed constant. Fortunately, I had a ready attendant at my beckon call. Whenever I wanted him, I simply flung my body at Pablo. And I could tell he was enjoying himself.
One evening, with my arms wrapped around him, I seductively whispered in his ear.
“Mmmm. This is fun. I like this.” While his member began to swell.
His hands rested on the top of my ass checks, tightly bound in lycra spandex leggings. The material curved deeply into my ass crack, my bubble butt always tempting Pablo. As if on queue, his hands journeyed down the slick fabric, as he filled his large paws with the fullness of each cheek. As he squeezed, his fingers curled into my ass crack, pinning me against his torso.
“Oooh, big boy. Nice!” I whispered. I let his hands rest on my rounded ass, providing no dissent.
Later that evening, after our wine, we sat down to watch a show, the three of us. There were two very comfortable chairs in front of the TV that we always fought for. I was too late, and the men had grabbed them both. As I walked to my husband in protest, he said,
“You snooze, you lose.”
Moving over to Pablo, he only smiled. Beginning to walk past him, he grabbed my hips and pulled me backwards onto his lap.
“Here ya go. This is a fine seat!” Pablo declared in his thick Brazilian accent.
My husband looked over at us, and all 3 of us burst into laughter. As the moment passed, I pressed my hands on Pablo’s spread knees to get up. As I did, his hands returned to my hips, pinning me down.
To distract me, he quickly asked, “Remind me what happened in the last episode?”
My husband and I patched together for Pablo a summary of the last episode, all with me sitting on his lap. As the 45-minute episode began, Pablo still had me pinned to his lap. I felt very uncomfortable. This position was new for me. My husband always preferred to be face-to-face. In my thin tight lycra tights, and matching busty sports bra, I felt very exposed. I glanced at my husband, who did not seem alarmed. I made another attempt to quickly stand up, but Pablo only pulled me deeper into him. Soon we were all engaged in the show.
About 10 minutes later, Pablo took his bent spread knees, and skillfully wove them under my legs to cross them in front. This now put my bent legs just outside of his extended crossed legs. A few moments later, he brought his crossed legs back up to the bent position, but inside my legs. He slowly spread his long legs wider, causing my shorter legs to hinge wide open. I felt very exposed, as only a thin sheer fabric separated my crotch from his.
He moved his hands to my back, giving me a light massage, pushing me down so that my forearms rested on his thighs, sending my ass higher up his torso, my womanhood right on his cock.
I was so angry with Pablo. He had expertly positioned me in this unprotected sexual position right in front of my husband. I submissively rested on his lap, my husband unaware or simply consenting. My anger slowly subsided, as Pablo’s member began to grow. He had readjusted his cock so that his shaft rested perfectly under my pussy. Where no pressure existed before, his engorged member now teased my womanhood. By the feel of things, his cock was much larger than my husbands. For the last ten minutes of the show, he continued to rub my shoulders, pulling my ass and pussy down and back, rubbing my spandex-covered flesh on his cock. My husband did nothing.
The show ended and we all got ready for bed. After my husband left, I turned to Pablo and lifted my finger at him.
“Pablo. How dare you!”
“Whaaat?” Pablo replied, lifting his hands and shrugging his shoulders with a wicked grin.
I could not help but grin as well. “You know what I mean. Pinning me to your lap like that!” As I pushed him in the chest.
Less like a virgin 21-year-old, and more like a seasoned player, he grabbed my hips, pulled me toward him, saying in his thick accent,
“Oh Shelly. You worry too much. That was perfectly fine. Your husband said nothing. And I know you liked it.”
I said nothing in return, my arms curled around him. Despite my anger, here I was, melting in his arms.
Pablo repeated, “I know you liked it. Right?”
I was not going to give him the satisfaction. I stayed silent.
He squeezed my sides, making me giggle, “Right?” he asked again.
“Yes! Yes! I liked it!” I barked between laughs.
I curled up into his arms further, as he began to massage my ass, the ass that had just been pinned to his lap. Nearing his climax, we began swaying a bit, rubbing my pussy against his crotch. My firm breasts heaving on his chest, as both our breathing intensified. His orgasms seemed to be getting more intense.
The next day, I realized that my husband was more affected by my “lap dance” than he had originally put on. In fact he seemed very concerned by the growing perceived lust between me and Pablo, and rightly so. He began to skip our morning ritual, choosing rather to wait later in the day, perhaps trying to reduce my contact with Pablo. He also began working in the main room, so that he was always present.
This initially had a big impact on the closeness of my friendship with Pablo. With my husband there, I tended to connect more with him than with Pablo. My moral conscience making me more tame when both men were present.
But my husband’s sexual endurance continued to wane. It was difficult for him to make it longer though the day without giving in to an orgasm. I knew this, and wickedly made sure of it. Prancing around prominently in front of him, he had little self-restraint. This intentional teasing would send him back to his office, sexually spent, not to return.
But my husband made some adjustments of his own. He learned to look away, or leave the room briefly, to settle down his libido. We all knew he was trying to last as long as he could, and it became a bit of a jovial joke among us at his expense. Particularly arousing for him was watching Pablo and I in an embrace. Knowing this, and wanting to force my husband’s premature exit, we were not shy with our affection in front of him.
This created a bit of a wicked inside joke with me and Pablo. I was wearing one of my favorite bikinis one day, with a loose wrap around it. Walking in high heels wearing a bikini is certainly one of my husband’s weak spots. But he was doing a good job averting his eyes. So Pablo and I met about 15 feet away from him, directly in line with his line of sight. With a wicked wink, we embraced each other, holding each other tight. My back was to my husband, so Pablo whispered to me what my husband was doing.
“Nothing. He won’t look.”
Pablo began to massage my round butt through my thin wrap.
“Still nothing.”
After a few minutes, I pulled back and took off my wrap, and embraced Pablo once again. This was by far the most skin I had shown in the house, and now, right in front of my husband. My top barely covered half my breasts. Much of my flesh was now pressed against Pablo’s shirtless body. My bikini briefs provided only partial coverage, and Pablo began to knead my bare flesh with his hands.
“Still nothing.”
Boy, was I enjoying myself. My husband had not touched me for months, and I could feel moistness under the bikini briefs from Pablo’s advances. I let out a whispered sigh. Guilt and shame tried to creep into my conscience, but the pleasure overcame it. Again, I whispered a groan, and then another.
Suddenly, my husband jumped up with his computer and left the room. He had shot his load in his pants! Pablo and I laughed and gave each other a high five, a new devilish union created between us. I left my wrap on the ground, and parading around the rest of the day in my scandalous outfit.
Baring so much flesh resulted in a constant swell in Pablo’s pants. I as well had a constant wetness in my bikini bottoms. With a bit of wine in us, we came together in a last embrace for his daily climax. Still wearing his swim trunks, are bodies came together, skin on skin. As we stood there, our hands freely roaming the backside of each other’s bodies, our hips swaying, providing pleasure to each other’s crotches.
Pablo’s endurance had certainly continued to increase. Before long, we found ourselves in the dark as the sun went down. I began whispering increasingly suggestive things in Pablo’s ears, to bring him to climax.
“Oooh. You feel so good.” “Aaah, that feels nice.” “Mmm, ya, right there. Do that again.”
I was so hot, and my pussy was so moist. I was losing control.
“Oh Pablo. Oh Pablo. My man,” I whispered. “I can feel your swollen cock against me.” What was I saying? I had never spoken like that to a stranger before.
“Take me to bed, or leave me forever.” I blurted.
With this, Pablo pulled back and looked me in my eyes. He knew that I was joking, but his seductive eyes wanted to let me know he had heard it. Our faces inches apart, a strange magnetism began pulling our faces together. Our lips parted, and suddenly pressed against each other. As our bodies embraced, we began exploring each other’s mouths with intense passion. Pablo was ready to explode, and so was I. I had not kissed like this since I was a teenager. Suddenly Pablo groaned intensely in orgasm. He walked away fulfilled, and I walked away a ticking time bomb of sexual desire.
At our next Sunday night meeting, Pablo showed some assertiveness. He said his treatments were close to ending, and that we would soon have the villa to ourselves. But the doctors had warned him that his new medication would make meeting his weekly goal even more challenging. It would require more stimulation, and meeting the weekly goal was even more important.
This information created some tension. My husband had gone from a supportive enthusiastic ally, to a jealous concerned spectator. He tried to get down to business right away.
“Alright. Thanks Pablo. We already know what my wife is doing for you, which is a lot. We want to be careful about adding much more. One thing that I want to mention right now is that kissing is always off limits. Way too intimate. OK?”
Oops. Pablo and I swallowed our grins as we glanced at each other. Did he know?
“OK?” he asked again.
“OK,” we both mumbled.
“That said, what is really left? I already see you grabbing her ass. What is there left to grab?”
My nipples hardened as I suggested, “Well dear, when he is really close to climax, he generally just needs one final push to get over the top. If he placed his hands on my chest, that should do it, don’t you think, Pablo?”
Immediately Pablo nodded.
My husband had a concerned look on his face, but was outnumbered. “Well, allright.”
Over the next few weeks, Pablo began to explore my body more fully. Apart from my womanhood, his hands surveyed every inch of my body multiple times a day. Despite my husband’s directive, we also continued our kissing, though secretly. I figured that my mouth had already been popped by Pablo’s tongue, so there was no need to put a stop to it.
My husband’s continued supervision of our activities became quite a thrilling game. Rather than trying to bring him to a premature arousal early in the morning, we would instead behave ourselves in his presence. Then we would sneak out the door, around a corner, or even behind a curtain, to begin groping each other’s bodies. I stopped wearing a bra, so that Pablo could have easy access to my supple tits. I always wore a thong, so his hands could more expertly palm my ample ass cheeks.
One afternoon, as I wore a loose summer dress, we were making out behind a column only steps from my husband. We were careful to mute any sloppy sucking noises, as we penetrated each other’s mouths. Pablo alternated from cupping my breasts and pinching my nipples, to palming my bubble butt, pulling my pussy against his crotch. Suddenly we heard my husband.
“Hey Shelly, you around?” not looking up from his computer.
We unlocked our tongues and grinned at each other with a hush.
“Ya, honey”, I responded.
As I conversed with my husband, hidden only a few feet away, Pablo wickedly continued touring my body with his firm hands. He was trying to make me stumble with my words, testing my resilience as he grinned wickedly. But I held my composure. So he increased his tenacity. Leaning me back against the column, he lifted my summer dress up to my neck. As I continued to chat with my husband, he placed his mouth on one of my nipples and expertly began sucking. This drove me wild, and I suddenly groaned.
“What was that?” my husband asked.
“Oh nothing, just coughing” as Pablo kept sucking my nipples.
Then with my ass palmed in his hands, he seductively began kissing my neck, pausing only to wickedly grin as I tried to keep talking to my husband. As our conversation neared its end, Pablo began stealing deep wet kisses with me, making it even harder to keep up with the conversation. His right hand wandered down to my crotch, and his four fingers slid between my thin legs, palming my pussy. I could do nothing. I was pinned against the column, speaking to my husband feet away. Looking into my eyes, Pablo gently rubbed a few fingers against my mound. I closed my eyes and covered my mouth, as I groaned with pleasure.
After my husband had returned to our bedroom later that evening, I enjoyed a repeat of our afternoon fling. Pablo lifted my summer dress over my head and placed it on a chair in the outside cabana we were standing in. Being almost completely nude in his presence was intoxicating. He began to ravish my body, sucking my tits, grabbing me passionately, while embracing, kissing each other deeply.
He began rubbing my pussy, and I began groaning again. Through the thong of my fabric, his fingers spread my moist lips, and began attacking my clit. My entire body began to flex in pleasure and anticipated climax. I noticed Pablo’s 8 inch swollen penis tenting his swim shorts. I instinctively grabbed it through the fabric and started pumping. With his right hand molesting my pussy, his left hand pinching my swollen nipples, and both my hands pumping his rigid cock we leaned in, kissing each other ravenously. We moaned into each other’s mouths as we both climaxed at the same time, enjoying this intense pleasure for over a minute.
My husband seemed to know that more was going on between Pablo and I then he could prove. In an effort to disrupt our time together, he suggested that the three of us spend more time in the city. So we made plans to spend the evening out together. As we prepared to leave, both men had their eyes on me. I was in a black mid-thigh cocktail dress, that left little to the imagination. Even while standing there, my husband had to avert his eyes, so he would not prematurely ejaculate. I looked that hot.
Looking at my husband, I said, “Oh, is this going to be a problem?” As my hands pointed to my outfit.
“No, no, I will be alright,” my husband stammered.
But even before we got to our first destination, we all understood that it would be a problem. My husband simply could not maintain a normal presence in my company. This could leave me alone and by myself, without a husband. So we all agreed that for the sake of appearances, Pablo and I were to pretend to be the married couple, and my husband just another friend. Then if he vanished suddenly, it would not leave me in an awkward position.
So we spent a night in the big city, enjoying a meal, wine, and dancing, checking out multiple places. Pablo was constantly at my side. While half my age, he and I actually looked more like a couple than me and my aged husband. Pablo held my hand, wrapped his hand around my hips, and danced with me, while my husband spectated a bit like a chaperone. Except this chaperone often fled the scene, needing more and more relief from watching a young stud court his wife.
When my husband would disappear, Pablo would make sure to maximize our chance. Immediately he would begin groping my body and guide his tongue into my warm mouth. At times, we would quickly move to a new more hidden spot, ensuring us more time to stimulate one another before my husband relocated us.
As we were driving home, both of us were close to climaxing. My husband was driving, and Pablo and I sat in the back seat. The car was fairly dark, though occasional street lights shone in the car, lighting up my sexy tan legs. Pablo’s hand reached under my dress, pushing the fabric up, and he began to massage my pussy, my legs spreading wide. I placed my hand on his cock, grabbing it with all my strength. My husband seemed oblivious, as we positioned our bodies to escape detection. I felt Pablo’s fingers curl under the edge of my thong and enter directly into my juicy pink flesh. I let out a soft groan.
“What was that?” my husband asked.
I froze, as did Pablo’s fingers. “Oh, nothing. Just yawning. I’m getting sleepy,” I muttered.
Pablo renewed exploring my throbbing pussy. He had two of his fingers gently inside me, his thumb expertly massaged my clitoris. I used my other hand to unzip his pants, and I pulled his dark member into the air out of his boxers. We continued our adulterous attack, touching the skin of each other’s sex organs for the first time.
I covered my mouth with my hand to muffle my scream of orgasmic delight as Pablo’s fingers assaulted my vagina. I palmed the top of Pablo’s bulbous cockhead, preventing his many bursts of semen to attract attention. After we discreetly cleaned up, Pablo put his arm around me and I leaned on his shoulder. For the next 30 minutes of our drive home I basked in the afterglow of my infidelity, one that my husband had chauffeured.
For the next month, the three of us would go out a couple of times a week. More and more Pablo would take the lead, leading me around as his prized possession, with my husband following behind, or absent altogether. I dressed as provocatively as I ever have in public, though I only let Pablo enjoy my flesh, never my husband. Our ride home always ended in an intense orgy, as we became more skilled and creative in how to have sex in the back seat of my husband’s car, without truly having sex.
Pablo’s treatment was coming to an end, and the doctor’s believed it would be successful. But his goals still needed to be met. He needed to go visit another hospital several hours away, and we decided to travel with him. We thought we had reserved two rooms, but the hotel overbooked, and we were left with a single room with a single King sized bed. It was a nice and spacious room, just short on sleeping options. The hotel was fully out of cots, so we were out of luck.
I had spent most of the day traveling and in the new city with my husband, and Pablo spent the day at the hospital. It was nice to have some alone time with my husband and reconnect. By the time Pablo joined us in our hotel room, I felt reunited with my husband of 20 years.
Pablo volunteered to sleep on the floor, which my husband was fine with. But after some of my persistent pleading, he relented. We would all squeeze into the one bed.
My husband looked me in the eyes and said, “I trust you.”
I smiled and kissed him on the lips. As we looked at each other, he ran into the bathroom and blew his load.
We climbed into the bed with me in the middle. I could tell my husband was already in a bit of a post-ejaculation haze and a bit sleepy. Before he was fully conked out, I suddenly sat up.
“Guys, we forgot about Pablo’s goals! He hasn’t climaxed yet today.” I stammered.
We were all thankful that I had remembered, especially as Pablo got so close to the finish line. I checked with my husband if it was OK to lay briefly on Pablo, just like a hug, to bring him to climax. He consented, rolled over away from us, and seemed to fall asleep.
I was wearing a knee length low cut silky camisole that ended about mid thigh, though had two generous slits almost up to my hips. I lay on top of Pablo’s naked body, other than his boxers. I became aware of how much I had missed Pablo that day, as we had deviated from our regular routine. I nuzzled in his neck while our bodies once again comfortably pressed against each other, a daily routine for almost a year.
I could feel Pablo’s cock harden, and my own heartbeat quicken. With my husband facing the other way, Pablo and I began to quietly make out. I pulled my knees up past my hips, so that I was mounted on top of Pablo’s crotch. Soon his member reached its full 8 inches, and I began gyrating front and back on top of it, my thong panties getting moist. My large breasts hung tight against the loose camisole, as my nipples rubbed against Pablo’s chest.
As I adjusted my position, Pablo pulled his cock through the opening in his boxers. Now I was rubbing his bare cock with my moist thong. His large hands palmed by bare ass, adding friction to the motion. I felt his hands plunge underneath my thong waistband, and I lowered my legs so that he could remove my panties for the first time. I placed my soft pink wet flesh on his manhood, my juices dripping closer to full adultery.
Just then, my husband rolled over facing us, with his eyes open.
“You finished yet?” he asked me.
“We’re getting close,” I whispered. “Just a few more minutes.”
He closed his eyes but remained facing our direction, only inches separating us.
Pablo and I locked eyes. Our concerned looks slowly grew into wicked grins, as we continued quietly kissing each other. I began to slowly grind my wet pussy, spitting my pussy lips on his shaft. His cockhead was only inches away from penetrating my vagina. Pablo placed his hands on my hips and pulled me further forward, my pussy no longer on his cock but now in front of it. Then pressing down on my shoulders, he began to steer me back toward the foot of the bed. My progress paused when I felt the head of his cock come in contact with my pussy lips.
We locked eyes again, intimately kissing with our eyes open. He pushed me down further, his cockhead splitting my outer pussy lips.
He whispered, “Your turn.”
Pablo wanted me to be in control of the final decision as I cheated for the first time.
I lifted my hands and interlocked them with his. I began pushing against his hands, and I could feel his cockhead attempting to penetrate my outer vaginal ring. Pablo’s girth was double my husband’s, and my vaginal canal was not accustomed to his size. I continued to push against his hands, forcibly allowing Pablo’s cock to impale my tight pussy. I exhaled deeply as he entered me. There was no going back. My head rested on Pablos chest, my eyes a foot away from my husband’s face. I was fucking another man with my husband right beside me!
My vagina slowly swallowed all of Pablo’s fleshly member. I felt so stretched, so full, like never before. If my husband were not there, I would be screaming with pleasure. I placed my hands on Pablo’s chest, and pushed myself to a vertical position, my tanned legs spread wide, hugging Pablo’s torso. Except now, my right leg was also touching my husband’s knees, as he slept on his side facing us.
I began to slowly ride Pablo’s cock, my camisole flowing around our sex act. We gazed into each other’s eyes. I had never experienced this intimate or intense pleasure with my husband. I took my time and really enjoyed it. My husband suddenly jerked in his sleep and now was fully awake! With me impaled on another man’s cock. I could see the white of his open eyes, as he looked up to me on my mounted position.
“Almost done?” he asked.
“Yes, dear, almost done.”
He reached out his hand and grabbed mine, and then closed his eyes, not releasing my hand.
With my other hand, I interlocked with Pablo’s to help balance my new precarious position. I began to rock back and forth again, as my hands pressed against the hands of the two men sleeping in my bed. Pablo reached up with his other hand and pulled down my low-cut camisole so that my breasts were fully exposed, with the camisole fabric resting under my glorious bouncing globes.
I was nearing my climax, as was Pablo. I started to bounce a bit more, checking to make sure that my husband’s eyes remained closed. I pressed against both their hands to help raise my hips 6 or 7 inches above Pablo’s cock, only to slam my heavy ass down so his cock could violently penetrate me again. Pablo used both of his hands to guide my hips and to massage my tits and nipples. I used my husband’s hand to give me strength to guide my ride on my own thoroughbred, Pablo.
Finally, Pablo and I both came to a climax. I felt his throbbing cock pulsating his seed into my unprotected ripe womb. My entire body began to shudder as a result of the massive effort of flexing my body to assault his cock. Halfway through my own orgasm and muffled groans, my husband’s hand briefly squeezed mine tighter.
He opened his eyes, and looked up at me with a hazy look. My tits were fully exposed, my nipples as engorged as ever. Under the camisole I had the 8 inch cock of a 21 year old stud still pumping his seed into my vagina. And I was looking at my husband of 20 years while the most intense orgasm shuddered through every bone of my body. Looking up at me, my husband whispered,
“I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I whispered back to my husband, as my pussy continued to firmly grip the cock of another man, my body convulsing with sexual pleasure.