Tom Stayed With Us One Summer

A wife narrative from the erotic library of:

Bertram W. Bronson

(Part 1)

How vulnerable we humans are, to the everyday fickle turns of fate, to its myriad twists and turns.

Centuries ago an ancient philosopher may have been the first to utter those words, perhaps in a meditative mood; he may well have scrolled the words on a wrinkled piece of parchment

Words so true to this very day, but one might ask, can the blushing innocence of a lovely young bride be lost can her loving husband's emotional world be tossed topsy-turvy by something as simple as a frivolous gust of wind?

Ohhh yes, as we shall soon see

****** ******

I'd stepped out of the lab just as she was passing catching just a quick glimpse of her back the sight of long auburn hair hanging nearly down to her buttocks, her skirt swishing side-to-side as she hustled toward the exit door.

A load of text books under my arm, I stepped into the swirl of scented air shed left behind and like every chauvinistic male since the dawn of time, I quick-stepped along behind this enticing creature, watching her ass while trying to catch a glimpse of a pretty face. Twenty long-legged strides ahead of me, she shouldered open the heavy glass exit door and then, it happened

A swirling gust of March wind blew into the corridor my eyes were still on the girls curvy backside, on the wind catching and tossing her hair, but in the periphery of my vision, something white was fluttering downwards dislodged from the bulletin board, a yellow push-tack was rolling toward my feet and I glimpsed a raggedly torn piece of paper skittering across the polished tile floor

In the years that have followed, many times I've wondered?

What if on that fateful day, I'd just brushed the tack aside with my shoe and stepped over that rectangular little piece of white paper what if I had just gone on about my daily routine?

Was it some preordained crazy twist of fate?

Whatever I leaned down and picked up the scrap of paper, while in front of me, the heavy glass door was closing with a little swooshing sound and the auburn-haired girl, the little honey-pot with the curvy ass was long-gone. And I never did catch a glimpse of her face,

But to aid a fellow student, I placed my books on the floor and started to tack the notice back onto the bulletin board. It was a simple message; scribbled with an ink marker on the back-half of a torn envelope the words caught my eye.

Wanted Inexpensive Room to Rent

Impulsively, I stuffed it into my back pocket and the scrap of paper was quickly forgotten. But in retrospect, I've wondered if the invisible fingers of some frivolous devil may have tucked that message into the back pocket of my jeans. Because little did I know, the sexual innocence of my sweet young wife had just become irrevocably tied to that small scrap of paper and just because a mere gust of wind had sent it fluttering down onto a hallway floor.

****** ******

We were young premed students, married less than a year and trying to survive on the bottom rung of a very rickety financial ladder. Just a half-mile off campus; our first home was humble by any description, just our tiny bedroom, a small spare room and a living-kitchen combo. Wed managed to squeeze in a tattered couch along one kitchen wall. To this day, I still remember placing the worn seat cushions, best-side-up, never knowing what was one day destined to happen on those three lumpy cushions.

As unassuming as a third-world turnip patch, that tiny, old wood-frame house, with its second-hand furniture, was our love castle, its imaginary tall spires seeming to reach up into the Heavens. Barely out of her teens, my darling Pricilla was a sweet shy bride and she turned that modest abode into a sun-lit garden, where each day the roots of our love grew deeper.

Rain or shine, we rode bicycles to-and-from class while knowing better days were ahead, but for a prideful young guy, it always seemed so inappropriate to make love with a fairy-tale princess on an old creaky hand-me-down bed. But our new life together was centered within its four wobbly wooden posts. Cuddled in its sagging center, we shared our secrets and dreams for the future; speaking in tender tones of the spacious new home wed one day have, the babies wed conceive on big new bed.

Ronnie, shed giggle, I wanna have a great big new bed, one that doesn't sway an go creak-creak all the time.

Yes, we were in love and the future was bright, but in those early days we made endless love on an old squeaky mattress, Pricilla giggling at the sound of a wooden bed post going bump-bump against the wall until we lay utterly exhausted. Within easy reach on Prissys side of the bed, lay that ubiquitous box of tissues, and with a newlyweds little blush, shed tuck one between her thighs and fall asleep, but many mornings, the mismatch of worn sheets scrounged from her parents home, were marked with the evidence of our love-making.

And when the warm rays of morning sun slanted down onto our bed, the wrinkled bottom sheet, spotted with traces male and female fluids, always brought a flush of embarrassment to the cheeks of my shy young bride.

Oh dear, shed sigh.

Still in her cotton nighty, she'd be making the bed, smoothing out the wrinkled bottom sheet and giggling Maybe I should put something under my bare behind when we ah, do naughty things

A couple days later, my fussy little bride came home from a modest shopping trip to Walmart. A few store-brand groceries, a plastic bag with cosmetic items I peeked into another bag and found six little white hand towels. Prissy, whats this? I mumbled.

There was shy smile and a pretty blush on Pricillas cheeks I could see her clever mind working out a teasing response as she stepped around our small kitchen table, coiling her arms around my back, her lips warm against my neck, whispering, and nibbling the side of my neck with her pearly white teeth.

Naughty Time Towels, she murmured.

Shed coined a new phrase and whispered it against my ear I felt her snuggle closer, soft breasts against my chest, her belly pressing against me. Darling, theyre for slipping under my behind so we don't leave those wet spots on the bed sheet.

You mean like when fuck each other to a frenzy, an you wet the sheet?

Ronnie, thats not a nice thing to say!

But you love it don't you fucking til you're weak and wet between the cheeks of that cute little hind-end? I teased.

Mmm hum, maybe I like it maybe just a little tiny bit, she giggled.

It was a throaty giggle and I felt her sharp teeth playfully bite my ear and then she slipped out of my arms. I stood there, feeling the start of an erection, watching that delightful little gesture she has of flipping her long hair over one shoulder while walking away walking toward our bedroom with the plastic bag in her hand.

By bedtime I'd forgotten it, but when we crawled into bed, my wife reached up under her nightie, wiggling out of her panties, pushing them down between the sheets with her toes, Darling, I really feel like doing it tonight, she whispered. Never knowing a time when she didn't feel like making love, I leaned over, nuzzling my face into the crook of her neck, touching her breasts through her nightie, kissing her minutes later, starting to ease the hemline up her thighs.

Then I noticed her slender fingers reaching up under the edge of her pillow, just a minute, she whispered, then her hands slipping down under the blankets. With a shy blush, she up-hunched her back and I realized she was pushing the hem of her nightie way up under her back, then her hands, groping under her lifted hips, placing one of the thin white towels between her bare buttocks and the bed sheet. Mischievous blue eyes rolled toward me the dark eyelashes fluttering so prettily as she began drawing her heels back. I could see the imprint of her knees tenting the thin summer bedding, then her knees spreading, the sheet slipping off her toes kicking the sheet and blankets away

I looked down at my precious little bride, so few months had passed since shed surrendered her virginity, and now she was lying there on her back with her knees apart, her pretty face hotly flushed. The hemline of her nighty was resting just above her bellybutton; the trailing ends of a white towel peeping out from under both sides of her bare ass  it simply took my breath away

She began shifting her hips; little concentric swivels with her bent knees lifted her pearly white teeth biting down on her lower lip while making soft throaty noises. Now darling, fuck me, she gasped... fuck me and make me get all wet between my ass-cheeks real, real wet

This was a new and evolving Pricilla my normally shy Pricilla made love, she didn't fuck, or even whisper the word.

And married only a few months, shed never exposed herself to me like this before. Surprised, my eyes were still fixed between her spread knees, my eyes on the curve of her bare belly, on the raised mound between her hip bones with its see-through screen of blondish-brown pubic curls gradually thinning curls that followed the narrowing of her vulva until the split of her sex seemed to merge with the crease between her buttocks.

Do it to me do it to me, she was looking up at me with dreamy blue eyes and lifting her toes, drawing her spread knees way back toward her breasts. I struggled to pull my eyes away from something I'd only glimpsed before, the sudden exposure of my wife's dainty anal dimple, my eyes moving an inch above the little dimple, staring down at the uniquely female crease of pink and feeling the sudden tightening of my stomach muscles, my penis pulsing and stiffening into a taut, full erection.

Quickly, I was up on my knees and elbows between her legs, my face pressing into the crease of my wife's neck and drawing a long breath through the fragrant warmth of her long blonde hair, the head of my penis centering so perfectly into wispy tickle of pubic hairs, so perfectly against the vertical crease of her vulva.

I let the weight of my hips settle between her thighs, searching with the head of my stiff penis for the hidden opening into her body feeling that initial touch of warm inner skin, pressing gently, feeling the head of penis sliding lower toward the crease of her buttocks, feeling the sensation of warmth and slippery smoothness and hearing Prissys breathy gasp against my ear. Yes darling ohhh yes there push it in meee.

Heels pressing against the mattress, my little darling up-slanted her loins and the slick warmth of her vagina closed around the head of my penis she lifted her heels, her knees bending and drawing back toward her breasts. Then there was that precious moment, that exquisite sensation of feeling each others warmth as we came together, that mutual intake of quick breath as my erected penis slid deeply into the very essence of her body

A first soft whimper escaped her lips, then a deep-throated groan as our pubic hairs meshed, mine dark against Prissys blondish-brown nest of curls. Ohhh darling, she whispered, Ohhh I love it that feeling when your penis slides into me... when I feel it pushing deep inside me Her hips started to move, arching her pubic bone and pressing the cushiony mound of her vulva up against me, her warm breath panting against my ear, murmuring, Ohhhh I love the feeling of of fucking, of having your penis way in me like this

The world quickly faded from our existence there was only our private darkness, the undulation of conjoined bodies and Pricillas pink toes, wiggling and clenching above my back, the silky smooth feeling of her inner thighs against my hips, her warm stomach under mine. My young wife's panting breath, and the rhythmic sound intercourse drifting throughout our tiny bedroom.

Nearly an hour may have passed before I lifted a softening and fluid-smeared penis from between Prissys bent-back thighs. Weak and breathless, knees akimbo, she lay still sprawled on her back. I sat back on my heels, looking down at her, watching the after effect of her orgasm, her hands falling palm-up at her sides, clenched fingers loosening, just sitting between her feet while the musky aroma of sweaty love-making rose from our wrinkled bed sheets

Oh darling, Im so tired, but ohhhh I love doing it, she murmured. Lying there in the soft glow of the bed lamp, eyes still closed, she lovingly squeezed my hand while a tiny trail of glistening fluid seeped from the vertical crease of her still slightly splayed vagina, a creamy substance seeping across the dimple of her anus, seeping into the crease of her buttocks. Prissy reached down and pulled a fold of the towel up between her thighs.

Newly married, still infatuated with the sight of Pricilla sprawled naked on our bed, still intrigued by her shy behavior after sex, I remained kneeling near her feet, watching as she pressed the soft absorbent towel against her wetly tangled pubic hairs, her fingers tucking a narrow fold between her buttocks, then lowering her knees, stretching out her legs, squeezing her thighs, a long sigh, and then murmuring to herself, Ohhh that felt so nice.

A few moments later, the greenish blue eyes blinked open. With eyes still glazed and dreamy looking, she caught me staring down in fascination at the lovely sight of her bare stomach, at the hemline of her nightie still shucked up above her belly button. In awe that this lovely naked creature was mine, I was just staring at juncture of her thighs, at the top end of her vaginal seam under a triangular tuff of light brown pubic curls and the naughty-time towel pinched so adorably between her thighs. Still a little flustered by the wet and sticky aftermath of love-making, her hands quickly reached down, smoothing the nightie down over her thighs.

Darling, she murmured, when we're going to do it, well, it excites me when you spread my knees apart and look there... and see everything, but after, well, its kinda embarrassing after.

Prissy, I only look at you with love and fascination in my eyes.

And I love you too, she whispered.

Sleepy-eyed, satisfied and content, Pricillas dark eyelashes slowly lowered against her flushed cheeks. My darling rolled onto her side. I reached over, clicked off the bed lamp and tucked the blankets around her shoulders. A moment later I closed my eyes, allowing the warm bed sheets to become a cocoon, a silky envelope of darkness where I held my wife in my arms and lay snuggled up against her backside, my softened penis finding a home between the cheeks of her buttocks.

It was a little sleepy sound, it came out of the darkness and muffled by her pillow

Ohhh darling I love it when we fuck, she murmured I love it more and more every day... I love that quivery feeling of just floating away

Prissy, I whispered Do you get a thrill from saying it now from whispering the fuck word in bed?

Mmm hum, I think about it during the day and when we cuddle in bed at night and whisper to each other about about fucking, well, it gets me kind of excited.

It excites me too, when we talk in bed, and Prissy, sometimes I wonder what you're feeling and thinking.

She turned her face back into the softness of her pillow and I lay spooned around her buttocks, feeling her warmth, the sweet scent of her hair so close to my face.

I pressed my lips against the softness of her hair. Prissy, I whispered, we were so young when we fell in love and married, when you think about things about the things we do in bed things like making love and fucking, are you ever just a tiny bit sorry that there was never anyone else? Do you ever wonder what it would have been like to do it with someone else?

My hand slipped from her hip, my palm and fingers smoothing up-and-down over the curve of her belly waiting for a response and feeling a fringe of pussy hairs and warm skin under the soft fabric of her nighty.

Well, not really... but well, maybe sometimes, she murmured I hear other girls talking about men and well, things theyve done with other guys.

Married girls?

Uh-huh, they talk about their husbands and things they like to do.

Things like what kind of things?

like doing it with other couples.

Prissy, would you find that exciting doing it with some other man?

I don't know, I suppose maybe.

****** ******

So, day-by-day, our love-making became ever more wondrous, we began whispering intriguing fantasies, and many a night, my shy bride went to sleep with one end of a thin towel clasped between her love-slickened thighs. We lived with that precious secret occasionally skipping class; jumping on our bikes to hurry home and fuck like rabbits on our squeaky old bed young people in love, enjoying all those magical moments.

But we were dead-ass broke..

Still in premed and working only a part-time office job, always left us with a month-to-month cash struggle. April came, practically the beginning of summer in sunny southern California, but the rent was due and we were picking the last pennies from the bottom of the proverbial barrel. Today, it would hardly be pocket change, but during that wondrous first year of our marriage, the over-due rent might as well have been a kings ransom.

Was what followed, a further intervention of a frivolous devil, or simply happenstance?

Whichever my lovely Prissy came back from the Laundromat and handed me a wadded soggy piece of paper. I stared at the damp clump nothing clicked.

was in the back pocket of your jeans, she blurted It got washed, but I thought it might be something

Suddenly I remembered, weeks ago, the auburn-haired girl the fortuitous March wind and a torn piece of paper fluttering to the floor and the scrawled words

Wanted Inexpensive Room to Rent

The ink had run, blurring out the writer's name, and I couldnt make out the last digit of the phone number. Oh shit, I mumbled at the sudden recollection. Prissy, it was a note from the bulletin board I thought maybe we could have rented the spare room? I explained.

But Ronnie, the house is so small, theres only one tiny bathroom with a warped door.

So what Priss, you got a better idea how to keep paying the rent?

But what if its a guy, some guy might have written the note and the bathroom doesn't even have a lock on the door?

Well, 50/50 chance its a girl.

Priscilla rolled her eyes, stupid male logic, she grumbled under her breath. But she quickly picked the soggy wad of paper out of my hand and sat at the kitchen table. I leaned over her shoulder, watching her delicate fingers carefully spreading the wet fibers on the table top; she studied the blurry last digit, turning the swatch of paper this-way-that-way.

Her head turned, blue eyes glancing back at me over her shoulder. Darling, its a darn good thing you're not majoring in accountancy

The obvious answer, she sighed, lies in its mere simplicity. My dopy darling, just hand me that phone theres only ten choices!

Well, I never said she wasn't a sassy little thing!

And the little smart-ass started dialing numbers, those quick fingers tapping the keys and she hit it on the fourth try.

Hi there are you the one looking for a room?

Yeah Mum, said a cultured male voice with a very distinct British accent.

Well, Prissy said We got this kinda small spare room. Its nothin great, but we could fix it up and maybe

And so, with those few fateful words, my innocent Priscilla opened the door into a sensual and never to be forgotten summer

But the dusty spare room was empty. We swept out the cobwebs, we wandered through yard sales and started to scrounge. One classmate working part-time at a rug store came up with carpet remnants and we cut and fitted them together. A friend of a friend scrounged up an old, but clean, bedroom set from his parents garage another classmate began roping the jumble of stuff onto the roof of his car.

And so it came to pass that

Tom stayed with us one summer.

****** ******

To be continued in part 2


(Part 2)

The following Saturday morning Tom, unassuming as only the British can be, settled quietly into our patched-together spare room. A tall, handsome young man, Tom was the best of house-mates and over the following weeks, the three of us quickly became friends. We shared expenses and Pricilla divided up the chores, the laundry, the cleaning and kitchen chores, our new friend always striving to do more than his share.

By the middle of April, Prissy had become like a younger sister to Tom, doting on the brother she never had. I noticed her starting to straighten his clothes, fixing his collar, her soft lips giving him a peck on the cheek while brushing back errant locks of dark brown hair that always fell across his handsome brow.

Soon we were like that old TV show Threes Company, but with a different mix of sexes.

Wed take late night strolls in a nearby park, after a while Pricilla would slip between us, her warm fingers would be clasping both of our hands as we walked along under the trees. Back home wed sit out on the porch or at the kitchen table, talking about school, about his home back in the UK and the girl hed left behind. Eventually wed say our goodnights and disappear into our bedroom, leaving Tom sitting alone in the kitchen, a wistful look on his face. But each morning at the breakfast table we became a trio again, my bare-footed, sleepy-eyed darling sitting between us, wisps of disarrayed hair tucked behind her ears and wearing her soft cotton pajamas.

On occasion wed drop into a dorm room party, or once in a while go out dancing, and always we were three always the happy triad. And of course our handsome British friend quickly became utterly fascinated with my pretty blonde wife and the ever-growing intrigue was mutual.

But one night, at turning point was reached, a sudden awareness of the depth of intimacy we were sharing with Tom. We were making love in the quiet darkness of our bed, Pricillas breathy gasping and moaning drifting around the tiny room and in the next room; Tom accidently dropped something onto the floor a startling thump, maybe a heavy text book sliding off his bed and hitting the floor. In the darkness Pricilla was startled, I felt her flinch, hips going still, an abrupt tightening of her thighs against my hips she was holding her breath with a hand pressed against my back and listening.

What what was that? she gasped in confusion and I could feel the humid warmth of her breath panting against my ear while she listened to only silence.

Then her blonde head shifted, I felt her warm face turning away from my cheek and toward the wall. Then her sudden realization and my naive little wife, whispering very softly, Ohh my God, I wonder do you suppose Tom can hear us when we?

Oh probably not, I equivocated, not wanting an issue to arise.

****** ******

But of course there were times our British house-mate must have listened to the arousing sound of my wife making love, all her grunts and breathy whimpers, the orgasmic gasping for breath. Hed become somewhat enamored with Pricilla and the flimsy walls of that old house may as well been made of willow sticks and sail cloth even the Pope would have been tempted to listen to the sound my lovely young bride making love on a squeaky bed.

And regardless of my evasion, the realization that Tom could hear us in bed settled into Prissys mind and for my shy wife, lovemaking now became an embarrassing interlude. She insisted on moving the bed a couple of inches so the wooden bed posts no longer thumped against the back wall of the house, but at night our secondhand bed creaked like a rusty door hinge and Prissy muffled her whimpers and strangled her multiple orgasms with her hot face pressed into a pillow.

We took advantage of those times we were alone during an afternoon, quick tumbles on our bed with just her panties off and her skirt hoisted up to her hips, but making leisurely love in our bed at night was as necessary as breathing.

The bed posts no longer thumped against the wall and sliding a little crossways on the bed seemed to reduce the squeaks and creaks, but there seemed no way to mitigate the revealing sound of sex, the sound of Pricillas initial soft whimpers, the whimpers becoming whining sounds, then throaty moans and bursts of breath. Oh my God, ohhh honey, shed pant and gasp Hell hear me cumm I know he will

Prissy dont be silly, Tom knows what we do in bed the whole world knows we make love at night.

But when we move, that way the bed it ohhh its so noisy

Priss don't worry about it.

But, ohh my God his bed is right next to the wall he must hear our bed creaking and straining.

Oh Prissy he probably pays no attention.

But honey, she whined, Tom cant help but listen. I bet he knows how often we do it and and oh my God even how long it takes us! And Im so embarrassed to face him every morning.

Sweetheart, it doesnt matter, Id whisper. Hes probably been asleep for hours, so stop worrying about it.

Then the dark lashes would lower, hiding her troubled blue eyes, shed draw a deep breath, tighten her belly muscles and begin working herself toward a second or third orgasm frantically tossing her hips and biting down on the corner of a pillow to muffle her whimpering cries.

It went unspoken, but as the days passed, I could feel a new intimacy developing between the three of us and I began to realize Pricillas embarrassment with lovemaking was exciting me. Id hear her beginning to make those throaty noises and I would suddenly feel the strange excitement of Toms close proximity knowing that he was within hearing at such intimate moments. I found myself, considering the likelihood of his penis spontaneously erecting at the sound of my wifes passionate cries drifting through the old particle board partition.

There were times when the image of Tom on the other side of the wall would float so vividly into my mind, wondering if he might be sitting up in his bed reading as my wife's first tiny whimper drifted through his wall, his eyes flicking from his book to the wall, suddenly aware of the sound of our bed of the little creaky squeaks becoming rhythmic. I thought of him listening to the sound of Prissys cries, his flaccid penis lying against his thigh, starting swell and elongate, his eyes fixated on the wall as his semi-soft penis lifted into a full, stiff erection.

We closed, but never locked the bedroom door, so it was such a strange feeling of arousal, thinking of Tom listening to my wife, knowing he must be feeling an ever increasing urge to fuck her, and knowing only a few steps could bring this handsome young Brit to the side of our bed. And I thought how it might feel to invite him to slip into our room some night. How exciting it would be making love with Pricilla and hearing the slight sound of the door slowly opening, to turn my face and see him standing in the shadowy darkness by the side of our bed, ready to take my wife, his penis fully erect and thrusting upward from his groin. I thought of the gut-tightening thrill of sliding my penis out of my wife and moving from between her legs, moving aside to make room for him to slip into bed with us Pricilla on her back between us, shivering with a mix of fright and excitement, the pink opening of her vagina already wet and loosened from our lovemaking

I can only imagine the excitement and the emotional trauma in the darkness, seeing his handsome head on my wife's pillow, her pretty face turning to him, kissing him and under the covers I know the head of his stiff penis is pressing against her stomach. From the other side of the bed Im whispering an invitation, inviting him to take my place between Pricillas knees inviting him to slide his stiffened penis into my wife and fuck her while I lay close by her side, clasping her hand and feeling her fingers clutching mine, the movement of the bed and her breath bursting against my cheek.

Making love with my wife, while having those arousing thoughts in my mind, I would find myself going at her more intently with quick deep thrusts that always pushed her over the edge. Pushed beyond caring, shed groan and pant as the brain numbing feeling of orgasm washed through her quivering stomach Ohhh ohh, aaarrrhhh. And the creaking springs and my wifes high-pitched squeals would carry through the thin partition.

As we floated back to earth, amidst the thumping of her heart, she would whisper, Oh my God I hope he really was asleep in there.

The next morning Prissy would pad bare-footed around the kitchen, fixing coffee and toast while still in her Jammies, her bra-less breasts shifting under the soft cotton pajama top, but with a flush on her cheeks and not meeting Toms eyes.

***********

It was already weeks into Tom staying with us and his presence on the other side of the wall never left Pricillas mind. Late one night I was reading in bed. Under the blankets, a sleepy little creature cuddled closer to me and eased its pretty head onto my pillow.

A soft sleepy voice murmured, Darling, do you suppose that

That what Priss? I mumbled, distracted, a bit annoyed, I leaned my textbook aside while holding my place with a finger between the pages.

that Tom that he masturbates in there while were doing it?

Do you think he does? I whispered, the image flashing into my mind and suddenly feeling that now familiar touch of arousal.

Mmm hum once when he didn't know I was home, I think I heard him in his room, breathing like, well you know, the way it sounds when people do that

Prissy, its nothing you have to worry about.

But darling theres more something happened, something you might want to know about.

The words, her tone of voice and suddenly she had my full attention and I quickly set the book aside. What what more? I quickly asked.

Well, yesterday I was putting fresh sheets on his bed and I found a pair of my panties.

Your panties were in Toms room?

Uh-huh in his bed, down between the sheets.

As she whispered this revelation, I could see the color rising on her cheeks, a speculative look in her bright blue eyes. Prissy, were these panties youd been wearing, I asked  like he took them from the laundry basket?

Mmm hum, maybe from the laundry, but I might have forgotten my panties on the bathroom floor and he uh, picked them up I don't know, but my panties were in his bed.

Could you tell if he had used them to?

Mmm humm, I know what that kinda looks like.

I felt that little touch of arousal creeping deeper into my groin, my penis starting to swell and lengthen against my thigh. Priss, do you mean you found stains on your panties dried spots that looked like semen?

Mmm hum, she murmured and after he well, after he used my panties, I think he just forgot to slip them into the laundry basket and I wouldn't have noticed, they would have just gone into the wash.

Prissy, you have to realize, living with us, being so near you all the time must be arousing for Tom and using your panties, well, its a way for Tom to relieve some of the stress.

The lamp was turned low, but I could still see Priscilla blushing at the memory of finding her panties in another mans bed and traces of spent sperm. Her voice had gotten very soft and I detected little tremors of possible excitement. Prissy, does it excite you a little knowing that Tom is aroused, that he masturbates with your panties?

Now her face really went hot. Ohhh my God, I I really don't know what I'm feeling but it makes me feel so well it gives me a strange feeling. I mean, to think he might be listening to us in bed while hes doing that with my panties...

Listening to the tiny quaver in her voice and feeling her snuggling against me, I began to realize that day-by-day, having another man living with us was becoming a very exciting part of our marriage. His close proximity to my wife was arousing hidden feelings and emotions, not just in me but in Tom and Pricilla as well.

Wondering where this was all going to lead, I turned off the bed lamp we were quiet for a few a minutes as I continued thinking of Tom sneaking my wife's underwear into his room, likely examining the crotch for pubic hairs and traces of vaginal secretions, probably sniffing for any lingering scent. The arousing image began creeping into my mind another man stroking his erected penis with Pricillas panties the crotch panel still moist with her vaginal fluids imagining a soiled panty crotch still containing my wife's vaginal secretions rubbing on the head of another mans penis

While my eyes stared up into the dimness of our bedroom, the crazy images played out on the ceiling my wife offering Tom another pair of her panties, not from the laundry basket, not from the bathroom floor, but panties warm with her body heat an erotic image of my wife on his bed on her back, his hands slipping up under her skirt, tugging her panties from under her hips. My mind watched Pricillas underpants sliding up her long legs and over her toes and she lay there with a hotly blushing face, her knees apart, letting him examine her vagina.

Sudden her head moved and the sound of my wife drawing a deep breath brought me back to reality. I thought shed fallen asleep while my mind wandered, but she was leaning up on her elbow, her eyes looking over at me.

And hes so darn near, she murmured. If that wall wasnt there, well, he could almost reach out and put his hand on me And ohh my God, sometimes when we're doing it, I close my eyes and I get this odd feeling, like a little twitchy quiver its almost like he's right in bed with us.

I felt the sudden excitement coiling in my stomach. Prissy, maybe we should try that some night ask Tom to slip in bed with us, just for a thrill.

Somebodys got a strange idea of a thrill, she muttered.

Well, I think you're getting to like him quite a lot, you smooth his hair and sometimes kiss his cheek?

Mmm hmm, but he's a gentle guy, an he's respectful of me.

Priss, what if we were having sex some night, and in the dark, I let Tom slip under the covers on your side?

You're crazy as a loon. Don't you dare! she whispered Where in hell do you get these stupid ideas?

Just thought we might get some kind of a crazy thrill out of it, I mumbled.

Her head was still next to mine on the pillow and I could almost feel the hot flush creeping over her face, Ohhh my God. just shut-up go to sleep!

****** ******

But as the second month of summer began, my shy wife was gradually becoming more accustomed to the close proximity of another male, a very vibrant handsome male. Oh there were still issues, the bathroom door was as flimsy as the walls and many times Tom would pretend not to hear the tinkle of her pee and shed step out, avoiding his eyes as she smoothed down her skirt.

But it was becoming increasingly more difficult to tell if the blush on her cheeks was one of embarrassment or a gradually growing flush of hidden excitement. And the idea of Tom masturbating with her panties became just a titillation to whisper about in bed and if occasionally he caught a glimpse of her in just a bra and panties well, she would still be a little embarrassed, but it all stopped being such a big deal.

Occasionally shed even forget he was staying with us and stroll out of our bedroom with her blouse off. Oh my, shed blush and cover her bra-covered breasts as she hustled back into the room. But I would call out, Hey Prissy whats the big deal?

And little by little she relaxed. So our night-time whispers and my acceptance of Tom seeing her a few times in just her bra and panties set in motion a further unraveling of her puritanical mind set. And the unraveling was like gently tugging on the loose thread of a knitted sweater, each little tug loosening one thread at a time and exposing the sensuality which lay beneath.

And our threesome existence, well, it grew to be almost second nature. One evening we sat in a darkened movie theater, Prissy resting her glossy blonde head against my shoulder; I felt her hand dropping onto my lap and resting on my thigh. Preoccupied with the movie, I reached down, clasping her fingers in the semi-darkness. A moment later, I glanced across and noticed her left hand reaching for Toms hand, my wife drawing Toms hand onto her lap her warm fingers, one of which held her wedding band twining with his. There was a sigh, I felt Prissys other fingers giving my hand a squeeze; her lovely head snuggling closer against my shoulder Love you darling, she whispered.

At that moment, it seemed so natural to just tip my head a bit to one side and rest my cheek against the top of her head, just sitting there in a dark movie theater, my wife between us, the three of us holding hands.

And so our bedtime love-making seemed to feed on the mutual excitement of Toms close proximity no longer caring that he could hear us in bed, shed knowingly whimper and moan sometimes turning her head at the moment of orgasm her glazed eyes staring at the wall as if she could stare through the flimsy partition and see his erected penis, all the while unashamedly wailing and crying out as the convulsions rippled through her stomach. Then shed lie there, gasping for breath, a strange new look in her eyes.

At the morning breakfast table she would still sit between us and blush, but now turning her head and locking eyes with Tom, their eyes locking for those several seconds while the flush of pink rose on her cheeks.

The inevitable seemed to be hovering over the three of us, drawing closer with each passing day

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As Priscillas inhibitions gradually disappeared, I felt an increasing desire to let Tom catch her only partly dressed, almost a craving to expose my wife and let him see her naked ultimately, to put her down on one of the beds and share her sexually. I began to imagine the stomach tightening thrill of someday being the one on the other side of the wall and listening to the sound of Pricilla sharing our bed with Tom listening to the sound of our bed creaking the sound of Tom fucking my wife

And the other-side-of-the-wall fantasy grew on me. The imagined sounds floated about in my head the whimpers and squealing cries when his cock slid into my wife. At that point I never dared to suggest really doing it, but I couldn't shake the image of my shy Prissy in one bed or the other and me listening with my ear close to the thin wall

Each day there seemed to be some emotional high point and bit-by-bit, as the blushing embarrassment eased, Prissy became coy and flirtatious. Shed loosen the top buttons on the front of her blouse and look at Tom, then back to me and her nervous throaty giggles were like a hot spike in my stomach like a flush warm water swirling upward over my groin the crazy urge to let Tom fuck her growing stronger every day every hour.

And it seemed I could never slide a hand up under her skirt and not find the crotch of her panties humid and sticky. She seemed to be teasing herself, creaming her panties and from time-to-time, deliberately leaving them to be found on the bathroom floor for him to masturbate with. And I began to experience a combination of heady jealousy and fascination that made my knees tremble and my stomach flip with little surges of adrenaline. My penis would swell when I watched Priscilla flirt or walk past him with her blouse open and his head would turn his eyes on the curve of her behind.

They would brush past each other in the tiny kitchen and I would imagine them naked together, touching, making love fucking his stiffly erected cock going into her. At night, while making love in our bed, we whispered about doing it, toying with the idea and pretending. Finally I dared say it outright

Sweetheart, lets some night, Id like to see you with Tom like this, making love on one of the beds. I whispered the words and my voice had a shaky, but serious undertone.

You dont mean really like really do it?

Uh-huh.

Oh youre silly, I I couldnt I only flirt with Tom, a little.

Sweetheart, you flirt a lot and he's becoming very fond of you and Priss, he'd love to fuck you we both know that and I think you might be willing.

Oh, stop it. Thats silly and a crude thing to say! she hissed. But the image induced a quickening of her breath, a little twisting undulation of her hips. I could sense the belly-tightening approach of her orgasm and feel an oozing slippery wetness gathering at the juncture of our loins.

Prissy you've grown quite intrigued with Tom. Have you ever really thought about it? I whispered as I pressed into her warm loins with short quick thrusts.

There ensued a long verbal silence, just our breathing and the intermittent creaking of the wooden bed frame. One of the towels was under her buttocks and we could both hear the soft sound of sex And I thought of Tom fucking my wife a naughty towel under her undulating buttocks, the same squishy wet sounds and finally his spent sperm oozing out and slithering down between the cheeks of her ass

I was practically trembling. Whispery soft and close to her ear, I posed the delicate subject again Prissy, hes in there, right next to us hes listening to you and hes jerking-off. And youve been wondered about it havent you what it would be like to really fuck with Tom?

Ohhh God yes, she finally gasped. Her voice was throaty and stressed. Yes, I think of it, well sometimes, she whispered But only because you keep mentioning it to to get me excited

But it does excite you imagining it thinking about doing it really doing it?

Uh-huh, sometimes when were alone and he he looks at me, I feel a little shiver and

and you think how easy it would be to to let him?

Mmm humm sometimes, I think of it, but then, well later I feel guilty for having such thoughts.

Sweetheart, do you ever glance into one of the rooms and think how close you are to one of the beds only a few steps?

Mmm hum, but our place is so tiny, well, were always near one of the beds, she murmured. I could feel her tension building, her hip movements bringing her toward an orgasm. Prissy, would you like to someday when you're alone, just let it happen let Tom take you into one of the bedrooms and fuck you?

Oh darling do you mean when when you're not home? she gasped.

Uh-huh, when I'm at the office and you're alone slip into his arms give him a warm kiss and just let it happen, just hold your arms around his neck and let him back you toward one of the beds and...

Ohhhh you cant be serious you mean just let him push me down on one of the beds and and fuck me, just like that and you not there? Ohhh Ronnie, do you really want that to happen?

Uh-huh and you don't have to undress, just lie back and just lift your skirt for him... just slip your panties off and let him put his penis into you. Then, later that night, when were alone in bed you could tell me tell me all about it what his penis felt like what you did.

Youd like that having me tell you, everything?

Uh-huh everything like how he pushed his penis in deep and came inside you and what that felt like.

Ohhhh God, youd really want to know that how he did it to me... what his penis felt like?

Her belly tightened, she began gasping, sucking in quick deep breaths with her head tipped back and I could feel her gripped around my penis, the spastic clutching of her vagina, her nails cutting into my back, the orgasmic spasms rippling through her innards.

When it was over she lay there, flush-faced and still breathless, Oh we shouldn't do such a thing... really let Tom fuck me," she gasped "but ohhhh my God maybe maybe I will, maybe tomorrow afternoon, if I'm alone with him and you really want to let that happen..

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To be continued in part 3

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