﻿    Title:Transformation
   Author:tonytony3
 Category:Someone's Watching
      URL:https://www.asstr.org/files/collections/alt.sex.stories.moderated/year2000/22825
Published:2022-07-07
Part 1

We dated all through high school, as steady a couple as could be. Yet, I never got past kissing her. "I'm saving myself for my husband, Bob" is how Tina explained it. Sometimes going to Catholic schools instills great will power -it did for both of us.

"I'm going to be your husband, someday" I told her, not as a way to get past that barrier, but because I really did love her. At least, I loved her as much as high school kids could love.

Then came that awful day in our senior year. "Bob, I decided I'm going to become a nun. I'm going to a convent, not to college."

I took Ruth to the prom, and she taught me that all Catholic girls weren't like Tina

God, I missed her, all though the rest of my senior year, all through college, and for four years after that. I dated a lot and screwed around a lot. The woman who shared my bed might have wanted more. They were, often, surrogates for who I really wanted there, and really, when I rammed into them, I was in a way getting even with Tina. The good thing was these women knew so more about sex than I did, and were willing teachers, too. "Touch me there -a little softer, oh, yes, like that."

I was living on Long Island, a four hour's drive from my home town of Pottsville, PA. Life was working out just fine. I worked on the technical side of an electronic surveillance company. (Want to know where the company trucks are going? Our GPS unit kept track, and our mapping software would show their route, almost to an individual address's resolution… Visual/Audio monitoring in a noisy convention room? Come on, give me a challenge!)

Mom made her usual Saturday morning call (I called home on Wednesday evenings). "Bob" she said, after the usual family updates, "I've got some news for you."

"What's up, mom?"

"Tina left the convent. She came by to visit yesterday, and asked about you. I think she still likes you. Why don't you give her a call or something?"

Tina? Tina! You bet I called.

We set up a date for the next weekend.

Tina changed from high school girl cute into something else, way past beautiful. 10, on a scale of 1 to 10, wasn't even close.

We started dating again during my monthly, then weekly, visits home. I was in love again.

"Bob, honey, I'm still saving myself for my husband" she said after I pushed a little too hard one weekend.

"Is it that religious crap all over again?"

"No, honey. I even stopped going to church. It's just that I think sex is for marriage."

"Well, marry me!"

Seven months from the date she left to convent, she did!

I should have expected some kind of sexual problems. After all, even though she's awfully smart, anyone who had been in Catholic schools all of her life, then went to a convent for eight years before deciding that being a nun wasn't the life for her could be expected to have some hang-ups.

She was so shy it coming close to us breaking up.

She would always undress in the bath room, and came to bed wearing stuff my grandmother would have worn: not at all sexy. Speaking of sex: it was always in the dark, and although "the highest form of expressing love" she'd say, it sure wasn't erotic. After a while, having your wife passively on her back, not moving, not responding to anything I was allowed to do, and not being allowed to do some of the things I wanted -going down on her, having her go down on me, for example -became a huge problem.

I even told her, after another one-sided intercourse session, that " I love you more than anything, but you're lousy in bed!"

I wanted more than she could give in the bedroom! I was so frustrated I went on to tell her how good some of the other women I screwed around with were while she was still in the convent. Yeah, I know, I'm a rat.

She cried herself to sleep. The next morning we agreed to get some professional help.

Talk therapy didn't work for either of us. Neither of us were willing to use prescription pyschotropic medications, either.

"Sexual inhabitions are often a problem. Maybe 'flooding' would work, it does sometimes" Dr. Span suggested.

He explained that flooding meant exposing the subject to an overwhelming stimulation of a phobia, in a safe environment. Once that was done, in some cases at least, the phobia was controlled. It could lead to a breakthrough, if Tina wanted to change. I, on the other hand, could take sometime to reduce my own sex drive.

"Maybe something like that would make me less ashamed of my body, more willing to do what you want me to. I hope we can find a way…"

There had to be a way.

"If you trust me, I know how we can beat this thing" I assured her.

"I do trust you."

The following Saturday -it was July -I told her we were going to Fire Island for swimming and a picnic.

We went to Robert Moses State Park. We parked our car in the lot closest to the light house and I insisted we walk east.

Finally we came to my destination, a nude beach -something Tina had never seen before.

"But they're naked!"

"Yep" and I put down our pack, and spread out the blanket.

"Here? You want to stay here?"

"Yep."

She watched, open mouthed, as I stripped, wearing only sunglasses, and lay on my belly, for obvious reasons.

"Your turn."

"I can't…"

"Tina, if we can't get through this thing, I don't know what I'm going to do. I can't deal with it anymore. I love you, but I won't go through life married to a woman who doesn't enjoy sex and who's so shy her husband can't even see her body. This is flooding. It's still your turn. Strip!"

She lay on the blanket, pulled the towel over her, and somehow squirmed out of her clothing, holding back tears as she did.

"Lay down!"

She did, on her belly.

"I'm so ashamed…"

"Don't be. You're not the only woman on this beach. Lots of people are naked here."

We lay for a while, me, ass hanging out, exposed, an erection (why?) poking into the sand, and Tina, also on her belly, covered with a towel, on her blanket.

She lay very still, pretending to be asleep whenever anyone walked by. I knew, though, she watched men, some nude, and women, also some nude, go to and from the water, enjoying themselves.

"It's not so bad, is it?" I asked after an hour.

"No, I guess not" she responded, her voice not quivering so much anymore.

I noticed she had moved the towel covering her so it exposed her back. I could actually see part of the side of her breast! In daylight!

"How long do you want to stay here?" she wanted to know.

"A just little more, honey: I want you to be proud of how nice your body is!"

And besides, it had me as turned on as I could be. I DID NOT want to stand up!

I saw a group of three guys, fully clothed, probably just in their early 20's walking towards us. It was one of the problems with this beach -voyeurs of either sex came by, to ogle at the bodies. I had done it myself.

"Tina, do you see those guys coming?"

"Yes."

"Tina, take the towel off of your body."

"Bob, I couldn't…"

I rolled over and sat up, and took it off her, and used it to wipe perspiration from me.

We both watched, her on her belly, me sitting, as the three men came closer, altering their path so they'd walk within ten feet of our feet. I saw one nudge the other, as they looked at the pale body, the pale ass, of my wife, as they walked by.

Then, they were gone.

"Bob, how could you do that to me?"

"Honey, we're going to beat this shyness once and for all. We're flooding, like Dr. Span said. It'll work."

She was sobbing a little, laying there, looking at me, but after a few moments the tears stopped. She looked again at me: the towel couldn't quite hide the fact I was aroused.

"You're enjoying this!"

"Yeah, I am. I don't often get the chance to look at your body, and I don't think any other guy has seen it either. I AM enjoying it!"

"Some therapy. You get excited while I get embarrassed!"

"You've got a nice body, honey, be proud of it. I'm proud of it, and I like you showing it off."

"Yeah, and you're getting off on it!"

She knew, and I confirmed her suspicions. "Yeah, maybe a little. It's nice to get horny over something you're doing once in a while!"

She turned away from me, obviously stung by what I'd said. You know, I was mad enough and horny enough so that I didn't care.

I watched as the threesome, off in the distance, turned, and began walking back.

"Tina, those three guys are coming back."

"I guess you want them to get another look at me."

"Yeah, I do. Show them more!"

"I can't do that!"

"I want you to show them everything, damn it. Get over this shyness! Do it!"

They came closer, and again left walking the water line so they'd pass closer to us.

I rolled on my belly, watching them, my eyes still concealed by sunglasses. Tina had her eyes shut tightly.

They were twenty feet away.

"Damn it, Tina, roll over now!"

And she did. She rolled over, her arms at her side, just as the guys were at the foot of our blanket.

"Oh, hi" one of them said, looking at legs, pubic hair, vagina, breasts…

"Hello" Tina replied, in a soft voice, seeing them, stare at her.

I couldn't help it. As they watched, my own erection became demanding, and untouched, I ejaculated as quietly as I could, spreading seman onto my blanket.

And then they were gone.

"Let's leave now." She wasn't asking. That was a demand.

Tina began dressing, and couldn't help noticing the stain on the blanket under me as I got dressed, too.

We gathered our stuff, and walked to the car. It was a silent trip back home, and silent into our house.

I went to the bathroom, and came out to find Tina on the bed. Naked.

"Maybe you'd like to see what those guys did, and do what they wanted to do."

Did I ever!

"And maybe", she said, as I mounted her, "You can tell me what was so exciting when you watched those guys looking at me that you spread your seman all over the blanket."

I couldn't explain my excitement to her then.

She changed, after that, into a more willing sexual partner, still not a good one, but better than before. And after all, there's more to a marriage than sex.

But there was still tension over what I had said to her about her not being very good at sex before we went for help, and for what I wanted her to do on the beach.

Which leads to the real part of this story.

We bought a house in Northport, Long Island, New York. For those of you who live elsewhere, it works like this: a three bedroom raised ranch, real estate taxes of $6800 a year, electrical power bills of $200 a month! The house itself cost about $225,000.

We decided to put in a one bedroom furnished apartment. Her snowbird parents would use the apartment in the summer, and we would rent it furnished, including linens, almost like a hotel suite, to short term tenants the rest of the year. Because it was for parents, some nasty zoning restrictions about rentals in Northport were overcome. The short term rental was a great idea, too. People who were transferring here needed a place to live until they found permanent housing. Professionals, visiting scientists at one of the nearby research institutions (Cold Spring Harbor Labs, Brookhaven National Labs, or the like) would pay $2500 a month or so rent for a furnished apartment if that price included the costs of a professional service coming by a couple of times a week to clean and change linens, too.

Since our house is on a bit of a hill (most of Northport is hilly) one whole side of the basement is above ground. The apartment, with its private entrance, and patio, was really suitable for a professional needing temperary quarters.

Finally, after a bunch of weekends' work, the apartment was ready for a tenant.

Tina told me about Betty, one of her co-workers, who was just separated from an abusive husband. She needed a short term place to live. She'd be an ideal first tenant.

Betty moved in with a two month lease at a discounted rental. It was a trial run for us.

It didn't take long before we knew Betty was getting her social life back together. We watched a stranger leave our driveway in his car on a Sunday morning, after being downstairs all night.

"I wonder what she does with them down there?" Tina wanted to know.

"She fucks them!" I told her.

"I wish I knew just what she goes about that: maybe I'd learn something."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I am."

For God's sake. My business is security -I have cameras that look like six inch long dowels. I could video-bug that apartment in a heartbeat.

I told her so, and asked "Is that what you want? Remember, her lease's up in a week."

"Maybe it would help. Could you do it so she wouldn't know?"

That would be child's play.

That afternoon, when Betty was at work, I installed a camera in the living room, and another in the bed room. It was easy -the hvac ducts in the ceiling were ideally positioned, and I could run the cables out to my shop, and then A/B switch them to the cable TV serving our bedroom. Some wireless audio pickups finished the job. They went to a receiver that talked to a really fast noise reduction software program. (One of our engineers used to work on designing sonar software. Picking voices out of noise is easy compared to finding a submarine.)

What a disappointment! The first night we saw her go into the bathroom -why do people close bathroom doors when they're home alone? -and come out dressed in pajama's.

That was repeated the second night.

The third night I was happy to see a strange car in the driveway. We went to our bedroom, and watched what I hopefully called channel 30. You know, XXX.

Our unkowing stars spent the time packing her stuff into boxes. At their bedtime we watched two people finally light a couple of candles in the bedroom, undress each other, and Helen went down on her date/helper. Soon they were screwing, and after that we saw them hug, kiss, and turn off the light. Ah, technology -the cameras worked in very low light environments. Betty and her cock-bearing helper rolled over, and went to sleep!

Tina, finished watching channel 30, rolled towards me, and insisted on hugging,

that changed to caressing,

and kissing,

so that, before too long, my hands were under her nightgown, holding her buttocks, and she found my groin, and a hardening penis,

and then her nightgown was taken off, and my pajama's, too,

and I was in her.

Her hands were on my hips, helping me with each thrust, and her eyes were closed, and I suspected -no, I knew -what she was thinking about what we watched only minutes earlier. My movements became uncontrolled, my control went non existent, and I erupted, pushing hard into her.

After we both recovered, and were in each other's arms, and were falling asleep, I heard her whisper…

"I was thinking about what it would be like to be like Betty, to do some of the things she does. That's bad to think about, isn't it?"

I knew what she meant, and it wasn't!

I couldn't help planting a seed for the idea I had. "Think about this," I told her. "Think about what it would be like to have a man with you in bed, a new man. Think about what it would be like to feel his cock in your hand, and to feel it pushing in you, and opening you, and spreading you, and filling you up, and him coming in you, flling you with his sperm."

My words got me horny again, and her, too.

"I am thinking about that," she said, "I'm thinking about what that would feel like. I guess I'll never know."

Maybe not, maybe she'd never know, but the idea was hot enough for us to postpone falling asleep for a while.

Finally it was time for Betty to move out. Tina, who helped Betty finish packing, had become friends with our channel 30 star. She asked Betty about her life as a new single, and repeated the stories to me. We both concluded each of them had something the other wanted. Tina's stable relationship looked unattainable to Betty, and Betty's single's life style began to have a real appeal to my wife.

I thought about it. My wife wished she had had more experience with men. Hmm. And why, cock, does that thought start to make you get hard?

Tina enjoyed telling me about it. "She's been having all kinds of fun. I guess it's rebounding after a divorce or something. When she talks about romantic dinners out with strangers, then bringing them back to her place, well, it sounds so erotic and sexy. Maybe I'm jealous."

I offered my opinion. "She's paying a high price. Divorce is rotten, and she's just making the best of a sorry situation."

"Yeah, I know."

"Active socially, isn't she? I guess when your husband screws around, that's one way you can remind yourself you're still an attractive woman," I suggested.

"Maybe. She's dated more guys in a single week than I did in a lifetime", was Tina's reply.

"Well, you found the right man early -twice." I shouldn't dig at her about leaving me for the convent, I know. "Are you really jealous of Betty?"

"Some times. I'm jealous of all of the new men she's meeting. And of all the women you dated, for that matter."

Tina was obviously mulling something over, and finally asked a life changing question. "Bob, I know you dated a lot while I was in the convent."

"Yeah, Tina, I did. I'm sorry about comparing you to them. Let's not go there again, honey."

"Bob, I know you had a couple of serious relationships."

"I probably shouldn't have told you about them."

"How many serious relationships, Bob?"

"Just a couple, you know about Barbara and Harriet."

"Do you mean you slept with two women before you married me?"

"No, I was talking about serious relationships, you know, where you think you might have found someone you might marry, serious like that. Having sex wasn't the same as having a serious relationship in my mind."

"How many women did you have sex with, Bob? That's what's I want to know."

"I don't remember…"

"Bob, everybody remembers. Now tell me, how many? I really want an honest answer."

"Tina, why…"

"Bob, you've never lied to me: don't start now. How many?"

"About twenty five."

"Twenty five! When did you start?"

"In high school, with Ruth, after the prom."

"Oh." Tina's eyes filled with tears. "I guess I had that coming. Was she any good?"

"Come on, honey, we were just kids. We didn't know anything."

"You mean, sort of like me, now? No experience, pretty screwed up about sex, not very good at it?"

. "No, not like that: besides, I do love you."

"Well, at least tell me this. The kinds of things you want to do sexually: were you taught them by some of your partners, or did you make them up all by yourself?"

"Honey, please."

"Bob baby, you keep wanting me to be better in bed. How should I learn? Can you teach me?"

"I don't know," I replied, "because we have so many hang-ups and habits with each other now. I just don't know."

"I guess I was stupid, not doing anything like when I was younger, or when I came out of the convent. And, maybe that's why you act as though sex with me isn't very exciting. I don't have as much experience as some of the other women you screwed around with."

This was turning into a fight. I responded "I think it's because you're very inhibited, and now you're in the habit of being inhibited with me."

"So you love me, but you'd rather fuck other women?"

My "Of course not" didn't carry any weight. Soon, we were asleep, with a physical and emotional space between us.

I was afraid this subject wasn't closed, and I was right.

The next evening the conversation continued.

"Maybe I needed more sexual experience, Bob, to be a good wife for you."

"No. I love you for who you are, not for your sexual experience."

"How come," she went on, "you ejaculated all over the blanket at the beach when those guys were looking at me at Fire Island last summer?" She did notice that!

I didn't have an answer.

But she did. "I've been thinking about it. Maybe you're a voyeur!"

Now I was angry. "Well, I'd rather be that than screw around!"

Again we went to sleep, miles apart emotionally

But the door was open. Our intimate moments began to include some of Tina's stories about Betty's dates, and I encouraged her to tell me more about her the kinds of experiences as a single woman she'd have wanted to have.

She knew what she'd have wanted pretty well: how she would have been touched, what she touched, how dating progressed to erotic weekends away. I at times became a surrogate for these imagined lovers, and at the same time all of this awakened a strong voyeuristic aspect of my own personality. Our intimate moments often became more erotic than loving, and each of us began liking that. The long silent times, as our minds thought about other people while our bodies were coupled, often ended in mutual orgasms, and then embarrassment. We are open enough so we could at least hint about, and joke about, what was on our minds while we used each other's body.

Another piece fell in place for us. Computer Associates, a major employer on Long Island, was in a hiring frenzy. They wanted to rent our apartment until May, at a fixed monthly rate, for executives in transit. But, it was going to remain empty for the next four weeks. Paid for, but empty until the end of January.

I was getting more interested in being a real voyeur, and wondering what it would be like to be willingly cuckolded. When I held her, and thought about her with another guy, I got horny.

What really gave me the courage to do more than think about being a voyeur happened between Christmas and New Years. We agreed to meet after work for dinner at Squadron 56, an interesting restaurant nearby that also is an active singles bar. We watched people meet at the bar, and I turned to her, and said "Hello, my name's Bob. What's yours?"

My wife's very smart, and very quick. She reached for my hand, shook it, and said "Tina".

I invited her to join me for dinner, and she told me about having just separated from her husband. After dinner she 'invited' me to follow her home for an after dinner drink.

I had forgotten what it was like to date someone. As a married couple, we'd undress, get into night clothes, and meet in bed. As strangers, it doesn't work that way, and it was a LOT more fun.

She 'led' me to our house, and waited while I parked the car. She took me by the hand -and we went -to the apartment!

We started in the living room, sitting on the sofa, having a cocktail.

And somehow, we were kissing each other. And somehow we slid from sitting, to laying beside each other, holding each other, and the kissing became more intense.

It's been too many years since I found myself fumbling with the buttons on her dress, and far too many since I felt someone else's hand release my belt, undo a pants clasp, and move against my skin, my belly, and lower, until it found my penis. And too many since my own hand moved up a pantyhose clad leg, and hip, to that place where the hose ended. And then feeling skin, and soon, warmth and moisture, too.

It was amazing and wonderful to watch as my wife, the woman I picked up, sat up and said "we really should go to my bedroom", and led me there.

She played her role to perfection, and excited me, aroused me, to the point where she could have asked for, or done, anything.

We awoke in each other's arms the next morning. "Well, if you were a date, buster, you couldn't have stayed the night. That's only for 'special' men, like my husband."

She obviously liked the game, and I liked it, too. I wanted to know how much she was really into this: could it be as much as I was?

She answered the question indirectly, when she pointed to the hvac vents and said "Just think. The landlord might have been watching".

We were in each other's arms, still in the bed that Betty had used not so long ago. I asked "Like we watched Betty?"

"Yeah."

"How is she doing, being newly single?"

"She's still dating a lot. She hasn't found anyone really special yet, but she sure is having fun. She's having sex with a couple of guys, too."

Tina made some of the motions that told me she was still turned on Betty's activities. Good! My own cock was erect again, too, and Tina noticed that.

There were some more kisses, and stroking and talking.

"What would you want to do if you had been going out on dates before we got married?" A leading question.

"I guess I'd do what Betty does."

"You mean, date a guy a couple of times, and if you like him a little, take him home, and…"

"Yeah."

"That really excites me."

"You don't have to tell me that" she said, her hand stroking the evidence, "Too bad I don't have stories, like Betty does, to tell you."

I rolled on her, horny again. I couldn't help saying "maybe you should get some stories, like Betty's."

I told you Tina was smart. "So you can get turned on by the stories or do you want to use channel 30?" she wanted to know, as I proved I was turned on, but not by the stories, but by thinking what it would look like to see someone between her legs, like I was, right then.

At the height of that passion, her own motions became more urgent. I didn't help by suggesting a scenario.

"Maybe this could be like flooding. Maybe you could pretend to be separated."

Now I could feel tension in her body, and her pelvis was working in opposition to mine, meeting mine hard, then us withdrawing together, and meeting again, matching me, stroke for stroke.

"You could pretend to live in the apartment."

Her feet, which had been on the bed, extended, and she wrapped her legs around me.

"And you could bring your dates back there."

Her breath became shallow, and fast. So did mine.

"And if you liked them, maybe you'd let them have sex with you."

There were gasps in her breathing, now, and her legs were wrapped tightly around me, her arms, too. I wasn't exactly calm, either.

"And, "I continued, "All the time you'd be fucking them, you'd know I'd be watching, every move."

That thought, that statement, did me in, made me come: she did, too.

After we cooled down, she had a realization. "You want to watch, like you did on the beach…"

"Yeah, if you did that, sure. After all, we are married. And you couldn't fall in love or anything: you'd be just dating, and getting more experience, flooding…"

As we lay there afterwards, Tina pressed the issue. "Look, don't be mad when I tell you that just then I was pretending you were someone I was dating. And I think you were thinking about what it would be like if I was, weren't you?"

I confessed.

She went on. "Getting married, then dating, is kind of the wrong order. So's fucking, then falling in love, or fucking, and not loving the guy. But just fucking for fun is kind of like masturbating, huh?"

"Maybe -mutual masturbation?"

She had an epithony! "You want me to date, don't you? To do that? Even though I'm married to you?"

I was silent.

"Come on, big guy. 'Fess up. You want me to do that, don't you?"

"Mmm hmm."

"And have sex with someone?"

"Mmm Hmm."

"While you were watching? -No, SO you could watch. That's it, isn't it?"

"Maybe. When you say it out loud like that it sounds awful, but maybe."

She wasn't angry at me when I said that.

I continued. "And I think watching you, then having sex with you, would be the sexiest thing in the world."

She still wasn't angry.

"Maybe. Maybe it would be," is how the she ended the conversation.

The next night I took a huge chance, and tried to move the idea along. I offered the whole scenario I had imagined.

I wasn't subtle. "Tina, if you want to, you can act single for a while, until Computer Associates starts using the apartment next month. We could take some of your things down to the apartment, and you can pretend to live there. We'll get a separate phone number for you, and it'll ring up here, too, and you can do what Betty does, and still be married to me. You could tell the guys you were moving out of state soon, too, so they'd know it wasn't a long term thing."

Then we were quiet, each lost in our own thoughts, and ashamed to talk about them.

"Exactly what do you want?" she asked.

"You know, pretend you're divorced or separated or something. You can meet some guys, fool around and all, then break it off, because you're moving away. I don't want you to get serious or emotional about someone else, but, like, you know, I do get turned on when I think about you dating like that. Look, when people do stuff like this they create what's called a legend. Yours could be that what we've been talking about, that you're separated, and if you need a way to break off a relationship you could say you're moving out the end of the month, maybe back home, to, oh I don't know, maybe where Betty came from. Use her story as your legend."

"And you'd want to watch everything I did, huh?"

"Yeah, I'd watch. That would have to be part of the deal. Otherwise, it would seem like you were kind of cheating." What a line of bullshit, and I believed it, too! "One other thing, Tina. Only do it if you can open yourself up to new experiences. That's the whole point."

OK, we know the whole point was me being a voyeur.

We had sex -she started it -again, and again our minds at least had someone else in the bed with us that night.

"I was talking to Betty about dating," Tina told me the next night, after still another night of sex, instigated by her.

"What did she say?"

"She meets guys through the personal ads in Newsday."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, she talks with them a couple of times on the phone, kind of screening them. If she likes what she hears, they arrange to meet for a drink or dinner or something.

"If that goes well, she may tell them where she lives, and on the next date she gets picked up at her place."

"So that's how it works, huh?"

"Yeah. Here's the thing though. She told me if she likes the guy, they'll probably have sex on the third or fourth date. If she doesn't, there is no third date!"

"Oh! How often does she have a third or fourth date?"

"Honey, she's had sex with about six guys in the last couple of months. And now she doesn't even see four of those guys anymore -what ever attracted them together wore off, and they just 'went away' with no bad feelings or anything. She's kind of serious about the other two, but so far she's mainly just having fun. Honey, she told me she had dated people within a week of placing an ad."

"I didn't think people as old as we are (we, dear readers, are in our late 20's now) dated that much."

"They do here, Bob."

Well, she left it out there -it was an unasked question.

I asked it. "Were you asking her about this because you were curious, or were you asking her because you're thinking about, uh, doing it?"

"A little of both. Bob, I don't know anything about dating or anything, except for what Betty told me, and what we used to do."

"I guess you'd have to start by putting an ad in the paper. Do like she does, talk to them, decide which ones you'd like to meet. You know, that part scares me. I don't want you meeting guys you really like -just guys you'd like to date a few times. Then, I guess you'd meet some guys, date a couple you like, stuff like that, stuff like Betty does."

"You really want me to do this, don't you?"

"Just so long as you remember this is for fun, and you are in real life married to me, you could date them."

"How many guys?"

"The apartment's ours for only the rest of the month. As many as you want, for the month."

Tina likes to tease me. "Remember, honey, Betty told me that if she liked some guy, she'd bring him home on about the third date. If I thought a guy was nice, honey, how many times could I date him?"

My own cock was stirring.

She pushed through my silence.

"Could I date them three times?"

Instant erection.

"Bob, what if I wanted to date some guys who weren't like you. You know, not engineers, not 6 feet tall: as different as I could find. Would that be OK?"

"Sure."

"And if I thought some of the guys was nice, I would date them more than once."

She didn't often touch my penis, but she had it in her hand, now, and was stoking it.

"Yes," I agreed with her statement, and with her touching me.

"If I wanted to, I'd date some of them three times."

The magic number!

Her hand was moving faster now.

"Because, these days, if you date someone three times you're probably going to fuck them."

I was very aware that my wife, an ex nun, was masturbating me, and I could tell by her expression, enjoying the power she had over me at that instant.

"I'll do it. I'll do it if you say I can date them three times, and screw them, Bob…"

My cock throbbed worse than it did on Fire Island. We just had sex, I was empty, I thought, but what she was doing, what she was saying, all felt so good. "Yes, three times… " I said, my penis throbbing.

"And?" she prompted, her hand moving faster.

"And have sex with them" I puffed, watching myself ejaculate, jetting from my penis, over her hand, over her hip, to the bed,

"I knew you'd say that."

And we slept in each other's arms, my last thoughts were of her with someone else downstairs, and her thoughts, probably, of exactly the same thing.

I was out of the house before she awoke the next morning. Just as well, I didn't want to face her after last night. That's not the kind of stuff I was brought up to think about, and neither was she. Guilt and shame were a big part of that whole day.

I got home with some "forgive us our trespasses" roses that evening. I found her at the computer writing ads.

She wasn't insulted or angry at all, and accepted the roses with a big kiss -lots of tongue, lots of promise for the night.

"Look!" She showed me the results of her efforts on the computer.

"N/S WF 29 yrs, blond, 120 5-8, fit, ready for fun, not ready for a serious relationship. Respond with photo to box TBD or leave voice mail at extension 5551589 extension TBD." the box number and extension number are provided by the newspaper.

"Where did this come from?"

"Well, it's kind of what Betty wrote."

"Are you really going to place it?"

"You place it for me!"

And, we were off to bed again.

And this husband, the next day, went to the Newsday office and placed an ad his wife wrote, for the express purpose of getting dates so she could get fucked! Does that make me a pimp? I went through the next week really distracted. Sure, we fucked and played around. "Is being a voyeur worth being cuckold?" she asked, more than once.

During the first ten days of January Tina got 24 letters, and about as many voice mail messages. The letters were much more informative. About ten of them were hardly readable, but five were written by guys who knew who to write, and whose photos were nice enough. All were professionals, one obviously a light skinned black man, a couple of dark haired guys, and two light haired ones.

"You write a good ad, honey. Are you going to call any of these guys?"

"How? I need a private phone line."

Bell Atlantic had a new dial tone on the downstairs phone us in two days. I wired a couple of extensions to our part of the house. Now it was the twelfth. So, this erotic adventure cost $45 for the ad, and so far, $85 for a phone line. And I'd bet 95% of the voyeur husbands out there would spend the money. There were 18 days left to the deadline we set for ourselves.

I sat listening in (unscrew the mouthpiece and take out the microphone, they'll never know you're there). She was really into role playing. "I'm going to pretend to be Betty. I'll even use her first name." I listened to her talk to the guys whose letters she liked: one guy was so angry about his marriage failing, he was a lousy prospect. "I want a good time" Tina told me after talking to him, "not baggage".

A few men talked about looking for the "right woman". That made us both uncomfortable. She wanted dates, not a long term commitment.

There were three "possibles."

The black guy, Paul, was a manufacturing manager, he had been divorced for three years, and was going to be transferred out of state in a month -that was an advantage. He seemed a bit crude, but that wasn't a problem for Tina.

Phil sounded like a nerd -a CPA, but there was something about him that appealed to Tina. He had never been married. "Just playing the field, meeting some wonderful people" he said.

Joseph was a cop. He'd been divorced three times, he said, and decided he'd rather be a cop than be married, but he still liked to be around women. "So long as you weren't kidding about not wanting to get serious, we could have a good time" he claimed.

By the end of the evening, she had a "let's meet for a drink" date with Paul, "dinner at Marybelle's", a nice restaurant, with Phil, the CPA.

Joseph, the cop, had an interesting line. He soon established that Tina (AKA Betty) had just separated. "Look, I know how hard separation is. I've gone through it three times. Cops don't make good husbands, I guess, at least this one doesn't. Anyhow, you have to start somewhere. I don't want a serious relationship, just like your ad says you don't. Meet me for a cup of coffee or something, and we'll be able to figure out if we even want to see each other any more."

Joseph had some other advantages as far as I was concerned. He lived in Queens -60 miles away. That, in the jargon of singles here, makes him "geographically undesirable". He's just too far away. Any dates would be casual -and infrequent.

Tina agreed. "OK -where?"

No, it wasn't at Dunkin Donuts. They agreed to meet at the Candlelight Diner, a few miles from Northport, the next evening after Joseph finished his shift.

"That's pretty quick" I told Tina when she hung up.

"We only have three weeks, honey" she reminded me. I'd like a couple of dates before it's too late."

We were both as excited as teenagers the next day, as Tina drove off on her first date, for a cup of coffee!

She didn't return for two hours!

"What happened?" I demanded to know.

"We just sat and talked, and drank coffee. He's really pretty nice, and you know, maybe I have a thing for men in uniforms."

"Are you going to see him again? Did he try to make a date or anything?"

"Yeah, he did. We're going to eat dinner there tomorrow -is that all right?"

"You mean, at the diner?"

"Yeah -big deal, isn't it? But Joseph says he has to be careful where he goes when he's in his blue bag -that's what he calls his uniform. He offered to take me to dinner someplace else over the weekend when he'd be off duty, but, you know, this seemed like a good idea, so…"

"Is this like going to be your first real date with him?"

"Bob, are you keeping score or something? I don't think so, I'd count tonight as a first date."

"Oh."

At bed time, Tina rolled to me, wanting to be held, wanting loving and romance. "I'm glad we're doing this." she said.

"Is Joseph someone you might, you know…"

"I don't know. I do feel safe with him, though, he's not aggressive or anything the way I'd expect a cop to be…"

By then I had her nightgown pulled up to her waist, and rolled onto her, erect, horny.

We started. "I wonder," she said, "if I could really do this with someone else…"

And just a couple of minutes later, still under me, actually moving with me, she muttered, in a small voice… ".yeah, yes, I could…"

The next night after her dinner she came home, eyes glistening. "He wanted a good night kiss -he kissed me in the parking field! And he hugged me really tight, and even though he had on his uniform, I could tell, I could tell…"

"Tell what!"

"I think he had an erection! He held me tight against him, honey, and I think I felt that!"

She talked about dinner, almost a fork by fork description. Joseph's job took a lot out of him, he told her. His wives, all three of them, felt he was more married to it than to them. "'And they were right,"' Tina repeated what he told her, and she reminded him that she sure didn't want a serious relationship so soon after separating, and besides, she was going to move away soon anyhow.

"Even so, he wants me to eat with him again tomorrow," she told me, and I agreed. Is that OK?"

Three dates in three nights!

"Sure!" I agreed.

The special phone line rang early the next evening. "Betty, we had a bit of a emergency, and I'm working until 9 tonight. I'm sorry," he said.

"I can meet you then," Tina offered.

"That's a problem. I'll still be in uniform, and I wanted to get home and change, and take you to a nice place. I'm really disappointed. I'd like to see you again." I remembered he lived a long way away -he wasn't going to drive all the way home, and back out here again.

"Uh, Betty, don't think I'm too forward or anything, but maybe I could order a pizza and bring some beer to your place?"

Tina paused, exchanged glances with me, then without prompting, said "Sure. I like that idea."

She gave him directions to her 'apartment.' "I think it's OK to bring him here. This is all so new to me," she said to me. That evening she, wearing a simple button down the front dress and sensible loafers, went down to assume her role. "Wish me luck!". "I'm sorry you'll be moving away" were the first words he uttered when Tina let him in. "I think you're kind of special, and I wanted to get to know you better."

He was in his full patrol uniform. "I gotta get rid of some of this stuff."

His coat come off, and his equipment belt. Tie off, shirt opened at the neck.

Part 2

He opened the bag he brought with him, and pulled out two Stouts. "I hope you don't mind."

She took one of the beers, and just as it was being opened our front door bell rang. I got on a robe -yes, I was naked on our bed, watching channel 30 -to find the pizza guy there.

"It must be my tenant who ordered that," I said, pointing him toward the path around to the apartment.

I was back in the bedroom in time to see Joseph paying for the pizza, and apologizing to the delivery man. "Yeah", the guy was saying, "it's only after 9 and I think your landlord was already in bed. I must have disturbed him."

'Betty' can be wicked, sometimes. She went to the phone, and dialed our number!

"Mr. Barnes, it's Betty downstairs." she said to me. "I'm sorry about the pizza delivery confusion. The delivery guy didn't disturb you, did he?"

I made some noises in the phone, and she, turned, smiling, towards the HAVC vents so that Joseph couldn't see, stuck her tongue out at me, and hung up!

They were soon sitting on the sofa, beer, pizza, and napkins occupying them.

"Some date, huh, Betty?"

"Joseph, it's different, and kind of fun. I'm glad you came."

Their conversation meandered as slices were eaten.

"Joseph, tell me more about being married three times. What happened? Did you choose wrong wives, or did you cheat, or did they, or what?"

He paused for a while. "It's not easy to talk about, I don't like screwing up. My shrink told me I'm like a lot of other cops. When you run around with a gun all day, expecting people to obey you, you get to be control freaks. That carried over to my marriages -I'm OK for a while, but then want to control everything! What about you?"

"My marriage was all right," Tina/Betty said, "I'll tell you about it, but tell me more about this control thing."

"Control!" went though my mind like a bolt. "Convents control everything! That explains a lot, even about her dealing with the flooding thing. She likes being controlled!"

Joseph was talking: "Sometimes I wanted to control everything. Sometimes I even handcuffed my last wife. I was having fun, but after a while she didn't like it. It's hard to explain… tell me about your story for a while."

"OK. My marriage was OK, I thought, but my husband just wasn't happy with me sexually. He was the only guy I ever had sex with, and, you know, I just didn't know how to please him."

"He must have been a jerk."

"No, he really isn't. It's just that, like, all of my life I thought sex was making love. He wanted it just be sex sometimes. Not making love, with all of the inner stuff that goes on, just having physical pleasure."

"Nothing wrong with that."

"I don't know how to be that way."

"You should try it sometime. Let your hair down, it can be fun. You been dating a lot since you split?"

"No. I just couldn't get my courage up. Joseph, you're the first guy I dated since I moved into this apartment."

"Oh. I didn't realize that. I guess that's an honor. Are you scared getting out in the world again?"

"Yeah, and since I'm going to be moving back to Pennsylvania next week I didn't want to start anything here. But then I figured out a couple of nights out would be fun."

Joseph nodded, the story made sense to him.

By now the pizza was gone.

She wandered over to his equipment belt. "What all do you carry?"

"You can see the pistol -it's a 9 millimeter automatic. We carry a baton" -he showed her that -"pepper spray, a couple sets of 'cuffs…"

"More than one set?"

"Yeah. The department issues one set, but most of us buy extras. Bad guys come in pairs, sometime."

"Do you use cuffs on women, too?"

"Oh yeah -department regulations. Women are dangerous, too."

"What's it like to be handcuffed?"

"Well, you're pretty helpless, unless you've had a lot of experience wearing them. They're not all that bad, I guess. Want to try them on?"

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah."

"Show me!"

"OK". In an instant he had her hands cuffed behind her back. "See, you aren't much of a threat to me when you have these one, but it's not uncomfortable, is it?"

"No… I do feel helpless, though."

"Well, in that case… " he turned her to him, embraced her, and kissed her -quickly, but firmly. He then turned her again, and had the cuffs released in an instant.

"Uh!" she said -"do you do that to all the women you handcuff?"

"I don't think I could get away with that. You said you felt helpless, and it's that control thing. I have to be careful about that."

He went to sit on the sofa -she went to the wall light switch, turned it off, so the lighting was just from a table lamp -more than enough for my sensitive cameras, but more romantic.

"Here it comes" I thought/hoped.

He sat beside her, got an arm around her, turned her face towards his, and a kiss started.

She just didn't respond -she sat there, her arms at her sides.

"Maybe I shouldn't have done that -not then, and not before," he almost apologized.

"No. No, I liked it. Joseph, I'm just scared. You're the first guy I kissed, since, you know…"

"You're really up tight about me being here, aren't you? If you're not having fun I should go."

"No, it's not that. Look, this dating is all new to me. I don't know how it's supposed to go…"

"I do. It's supposed to be fun. Like, like, well, eating pizza or something. Like, well, handcuffing you. Man, in the old days, if I had a prisoner like you…"

She interrupted -"You liked cuffing me?"

"Sure. Like I told you, I like being in control."

"Uh… I kind of liked feeling helpless, and NOT being in control."

Joseph is a smart cop. He picked up that idea right away. "Some people do like stuff like that."

"What do you mean?"

"Look. Some of us like being in control, some people are more comfortable when they're being dominated -it means they're not really responsible for what happens, I guess."

"You know a lot about that stuff, huh?"

"Yeah, like I said I played games like that with my last wife a few times -it's a big turn on for me. It was fun for her, too."

"Tell me about it."

"I don't like talking about ex wives, OK? I'll tell you a little bit. We did it like this. I'd be in charge. I did whatever I wanted -what I think would be fun for me, and for her. But -and this is very important -if I started to go too far she just had to say a magic word -we used 'Herman' -and I had to stop, right then, and put things right, like taking off the handcuffs, and everything. No questions, no pleading. The cuffs or whatever come off, I stopped what I was doing, period. Simple, huh?"

"You could do anything you want!?"

"Right up until she said 'Herman'. That's right."

"What kind of things did you do?"

"Uh -well, sexy things."

"I guess I knew that. But what, specifically?"

"Come on, Betty, this is embarrassing. I hardly know you."

"Joseph, I don't know anything about stuff like that. Please tell me."

"OK. Like, sometimes we would act out a rape or something. Or, I'd handcuff her and undress her and we'd have sex. Or, like in real life, I'd be a cop…"

"That's not so bad. What else? What's the worst thing you ever did with her?"

"Come on, Betty…"

"No, tell me. I'm really interested."

"She really got turned on by guns."

"Oh. I was raised in Pennsylvania, I like them, too."

"No, that's not what I mean. Like, once, well, I unloaded my nine millimeter, and we played touching games and stuff, that's all."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, she liked to feel it on her neck, things like that."

I could see Tina's body language. This was getting to her!

"Joseph -did you only touch her neck with it?"

"Uh -no."

"What else did you touch?"

"Damn it, it was foreplay!"

"Her breasts?"

"Yeah, sure, her breasts."

"And more?"

"Yeah, more, we used it like a sex toy: it was foreplay, damn it! I don't want to talk about her any more, OK?"

There was a pause.

"OK," she agreed. "No more talk about that. There's a couple of cans of beer left. Let's open them."

She got up, did that, got the CD player running, and sat next to Joseph, each with a beer. The room was quiet for a moment.

"I guess I understand about wanting to be in control."

"I don't want to talk about that any more!"

"I didn't mean to talk about her. It's just that that's so new to me. Joseph, do you always follow the rules, like the Herman rule, when you play?"

"Absolutely! If I didn't, and I was playing with someone who wasn't my wife, I could be accused of anything. I'd be in a whole world of trouble. Like, if I had someone handcuffed, they could accuse me of false arrest, or kidnapping, or rape, or anything. I'd lose everything, I could even go to jail."

"So you have to trust whoever you're controlling -trust her a lot, huh?"

"Yeah, but she has to trust me, too."

'Betty' drank from her can. So did he.

I thought I knew where this was going. She asked again, "If you were playing, all the person would have to do is say 'Herman", right? It's that simple?"

"Yeah, why do you keep asking? But yeah, Herman stops everything." Joseph was looking at her, questioningly. "You never did bondage or submission, things like that, did you?"

"A long time ago, submission, yes, but it was a religious thing, not a sexual one. I've always been inhibited sexually."

"Submission takes sexuality out of your hands, you give yourself completely to your master -at least that's what the boss is called."

"Oh."

You want to try it, don't you?"

"If I did, would you stop if I say Herman?"

How obvious, I thought -it IS flooding!

"Ah. Yes. If you want to play, it'll be great! I NEVER played with someone I didn't know really well already, and I hardly know you. Jesus! Do you want to?"

Small voice -"I do."

Joseph stood up, and looked at the woman he knew as Betty.

His voice changed temper -it got lower, almost threatening.

"Stand up, Miss!"

She did.

"Put your arms behind you."

She did.

He turned her around -I could hear a click -and she was handcuffed again.

"I'm gonna love this!" he said.

"Don't hurt me…"

"It's not about hurting. It's about stuff like this."

He turned her again, kissed her again.

She didn't protest -she stood there, almost unresponsive.

"I like this." He turned her again, so he was behind her, and he pulled her to him, his hands creeping up her sides, still holding her close.

His hands moved in front, one below the other, moving, down, then up, caressing her torso.

They moved higher, and higher, to just under her breasts.

I noticed she leaned back against him.

"I like doing things like this." I watched as his palms turned upward, under her breasts, supporting them, weighing them, from beneath…

"See," he continued, "nothing that happens is caused by you, it's all being done by me. You're innocent."

I could see Tina take a sharp breath! She was being touched sexually, blatently, and she was helpless. Flooding!

She said nothing, still not resisting, not moving.

Finally his hands were on her blouse, over her breasts.

"I can't stop you from doing that, can I?"

"No!" gruffly.

He leaned down, kissing at her ear.

She tilted her head, making it easier for him.

He bent more, his mouth tracing from ear to neck.

"That's nice" she said, in a whisper.

"There's a lot more to come." His mouth was busy again.

"You're going awfully fast…"

After a moment, he maneuvered her so that he could reach his equipment belt -one of his hands found his baton!

Still holding a breast with one hand, he brought the baton in front of the both of them.

He traced it along the side of her head, down beside her ear.

"I like using this. I like threatening people with it. It excites me!"

I saw as he turned the two of them a little, so they were facing the full length mirror we mounted behind the main door.

"Open your eyes -look at us!" he commanded.

She did.

The baton extended from her ear across her cheek.

He moved it, down to her shoulder, up again, under her chin, raising her head.

He moved it higher, his hand in front of her, so it was across her face, almost to her other ear.

And he drew it across her cheek, across her lips.

"Open your mouth!"

She shook her head no.

I saw him press the shaft against her lips!

"Open!"

She did, a little, and he moved so that the baton was across her lips.

"Kiss it!"

Nothing. She did nothing.

"Submit yourself, do what you're told to do. Kiss it."

I saw her lips purse a little.

"Use your lips, use your tongue. Really kiss it. You have no choice, I'm in control."

Her mouth opened a little more, and her tongue was on the baton.

"That's better—that's very sexy."

He drew that long dark thing along her lips, until the tip was at her mouth.

"Take it in your mouth."

Nothing!

"I'm in cotrol, do it!"

She turned to face the baton, her mouth opened, and encompassed its rounded end.

It was completely erotic, seeing that!

He watched, and I watched, as she carefully moved her head, taking in an inch or two, then withdrawing, and again, and again. She was giving a blow job to the baton, standing there, and my own cock erupted!

That tableau continued for a minute or two.

"You're doing good at that!"

It was only a baton, and it was the sexest thing I had ever seen!.

Her head was moving with the same pace on it as other women's heads and mouths moved along my own cock, a long time ago.

"Are you afraid of me?" he asked.

She nodded affermatively.

"Good! Cops depend on that. I want to move on."

He tossed the baton to the chair.

His hands began moving again, up over her breasts, and down, over her stomach.

They were both watching the action in the mirror, him behind her, her hands still handcuffed.

Finally, his hand rose, to her throat.

To the buttons on her dress.

And released the top one.

And the next one.

Now he was kissing at her ear again, and at her neck again, while she watched their reflection.

A kiss.

Another button, by now the one between her breasts.

He could, and did, pull the neckline with his lips, so he could kiss at her shoulder.

And another button.

And another.

It was unbuttoned to her waist, open a little, her black slip showing.

He looked in the mirror, too.

"Nice slip."

His lips were still at her shoulder, his fingers lifting the dress, to the next button,

And the next.

And the last!

Now the dress hung, open, revealing a few inches of slip, from her chest to above her knees.

He stood tall, now, still behind her, and they both watched as he opened the dress, now more like an open robe, past her shoulders, down her arms, draping behind her, held up only by her hands.

"Very nice slip: I'm glad you were it for me. You look sexy!"

Still no comment from her -but no resistance, either.

My own cock was hard again!

He reached into his pocket, got out the key, and controlling her carefully released one bracelet, slid the dress off that hand, then the other, and reattached the cuff. He was so smooth -he'd done all of this before, but never with my wife!

I watched as she watched as his hands traced up and down her sides, her waist, her hips, her thighs, and up again.

"Kick off your shoes now."

She did.

He was standing close behind her, pushing into her hands.

"Feel how excited I am!"

"What…?"

"Don't act innocent. You can feel my cock through my trousers!"

Oh! her hands were right there!

"Uh, yes, yes I can, it's…"

"Yes, it's hard, and big! And you know why, don't you?"

She nodded yes.

"Good." He moved away a little, and I watched as his fingers, on her thighs, were working, lifting her slip.

She watched, her mouth open, as finally his fingers found her panty hose clad legs under her slip.

He lifted his hands higher, bending a little, his hands were covered by the slip now, going up until they were waist high.

Then he knelt, and pulled!

And down came panties and panty hose, to her knees, to her ankles!

"Step out of them."

She lifted one foot, and he pulled the tangle free.

And then the other foot.

"Now we're getting somewhere" he muttered.

She had nothing to say, standing there, wearing only a slip and bra, in front of a cop, the slip dark enough to be concealing, clinging enough to revealing… He stood behind her, moving close again. His hands were busy between them -doing something with the handcuffs, I wondered, until, his hands appeared on her hips, drawing her back, against, him.

The expression on her face changed to surprise -shock!

"Now you can really feel how excited you make me," he declared.

He had unzipped his pants, loosened his belt, and pulled out his cock. Her hands, still handcuffed behind her, were on it -the only other erect cock I think she had ever felt.

"Go on, keep touching it -hold it!" he commanded.

I guess she did, because they both stood there, his hands gliding up and down her sides, hers, behind her back, touching, measuring…

"I want to feel my cock to touch your body. Pull your slip up in the back."

I watched their reflection, and could tell from the wrinkles in her slip, and its movement to her mid thighs, that she was obeying.

Her hands, I could tell, were just about as high as her buttocks.

"Lift it higher."

I saw movement, and now they had to be at the small of her back.

And her mouth formed an "O" as he pulled her back hard against him, his penis, I'm sure, pressing against her nude ass.

"That's what a man in control feels like," he rasped, his hips making small cycles, her face reddened, and I thought, covered with a sheen of perspiration. She wasn't objecting, though, to the movement of his penis between her buttocks, to his mouth on her neck.

The pair of them turned, so I could see their sides -she had one hand holding the slip, the other around the shaft of his cock! There's no wonder why his hips were moving that way -she was masturbating him against her ass!

"This," he said after a minute, "is foreplay. I'm tired of foreplay. Let's gp to your bedroom."

"Is that an order, sir?"

"It is an order."

She released his cock, and her slip, and without looking at him walked to the bedroom.

He adjusted himself, getting his cock back inside his pants, grabbed something, and followed, a few feet behind.

I switched cameras, in time to see her standing at the foot of the bed, looking at it. He walked to the bed, and pulled the covers off.

She stood, watching, still in her slip, her bra, as the bed, an alter where she was going to be sacrificed, was made ready. She knew how to stop him, I knew. A simple word. Would she say it?

Not yet!

He went to her, facing her, pulled her to him, embraced her. He was inches taller than she was, and bent down toward her. She responded, raising her head, meeting his lips!

His arms, holding her to him, dropped from her back to her hips.

Would he continue? Would she allow him to?

I was distracted by my own cock's demand for attention, as I watched the kiss continue, until I noticed…

. I saw

…I saw his hands, on her hips, weren't idle.

They were gathering the material of her slip!

Already it was raised past her mid thighs,

then her nude hips!

He moved away an inch or so, creating a space, so that now he could lift it higher, while still engaging in the kiss. She allowed the space to continue, moving her hips away a little, too.

I watched as he lifted -my side view was perfect -higher than her hips, her sides…

And he broke the kiss for a minute -they maintained eye contact -and he lifted higher, then moved his hands more to the front, and the eye contact was broken for a moment as the massed material of slip was lifted over her face, over her head, and down her back, until it was covering her hands, prevented from going further by the cuffs.

He continued to stare into her eyes as his hands left the slip, and moved up her back, to her bra strap. How could he avoid looking down, she was naked except for the bra.

And he released that, too!

It hung, limply, from her shoulders, still covering her.

He took her by the shoulders, and pushed her to the bed.

Onto it.

She sat there, legs tightly together, concealing herself as best she could.

He, however, had done this before, He knew what he was going to do, and how best to do it, much better than we did.

He got behind her.

Pulled/lifted her to the middle of the bed.

Again went to his pocket, got the key, and released one bracelet of the handcuffs.

He brushed off the slip, pushed that arm foreword, and pushed the bra strap off it -"What beautiful breasts my wife has," I thought, as it was exposed for the first time, "and look at how erect that nipple was. She's really turned on!"

By then he had repeated the action with the other side of the bra -now she was naked! Since he was holding her arms behind her, she couldn't even cover herself!

But that wasn't enough for him.

>From behind, he reached around, put his hand under her knee, and pulled -she bent her leg. It took him only a second to attach the handcuff bracelet to her ankle, so that hand and ankle were attached.

>From his pocket he brought other set of cuffs, and moving a little, got one end attached to the other ankle.

"I'm going to show you what helpless really is now. Give me your other hand."

She extended it, toward her ankle, and it too was bound.

He, from behind her, grasped her shoulders, and pulled, so that she was on her back.

Take a break, readers, and take your lover with you into the bedroom. Try out this position, wrists bound to ankles. The story will be here when you return. I don't think you'll be back too quickly, though.

He got off the bed, and moved to its foot.

She lay there, watching him, knees together, waiting.

"Are you helpless?"

"Yes, never more helpless. You're in control, I can't stop you from doing whatever you want."

"Good."

He pulled his shirt free of his slacks, unbuttoned its cuffs, and the rest of the buttons too, and off.

He pulled his tee shirt over his head, too.

Raised a foot, got that shoe and sock off.

And the other one, too.

Staring at her, he released his belt buckle, undid the clasp of his uniform trousers.

The fly was already down -and he stepped out of his pants, leaving only his briefs on.

"Betty!" he said firmly.

She looked at him questioningly.

"You do remember the rules, don't you?"

She nodded.

"In another minute, 'Herman' isn't going to work. This is your last chance. If you're going to say it, say it now."

She was silent!

We both watched as his hands found his own waistband, and then, those briefs were down and off, too.

My wife was facing a nude man, only the second one she had seem in this condition in her life.

"I'm afraid" she whispered in a quiet voice, so quiet I could hardly hear her.

He bent over, picking up the baton he brought with him to the bedroom.

He walked, nude, to the foot of the bed. Knelt on it.

He leaned toward her, the baton a weapon.

He traced it down along her face -she opened her mouth for it, as she had before.

He teased her lips with it, then stopped, and moved it to her neck, lower.

"This is a great sex toy, too."

It moved down, over her throat.

Its end moved along her breast, and pressing down, over it, indenting it, its side pressing down on her nipple.

"This is control. This is power. This really gets me going!"

The baton moved down, over her belly, and up one of her legs to her knees…

He forced it between her her tightly clenched knees, and down, against her pelvis.

"It's uncomfortable for you to keep your legs together when I use handcuffs like that: relax them."

I saw them move apart a few inches.

The baton moved lower. Tina, sweet Tina, actually tilted her pelvis toward it! I couldn't see what was happening, but his hand began making small motions, gentle motions,, twisting, pushing a little, twisting again, moving it, exciting her. I could see her stomach quivering as she took short, gasping breaths.

Then he brought it to his own face.

I watched him as he put it in his own mouth!

Tina and I both watched him lick it!

"You taste good."

He did it! He had put it IN her -he fucked her with it!

He dropped the damned thing to the floor, and moved to the side of the bed, he knelt on it, his knees near her shoulder.

Tina was helpless in front of him.

He leaned toward her, his hand reaching toward the back of her head. That hand grabbed a handful of hair. He grasped it: he used it to lift her head to his lips! It was not a loving kiss -it was an erotic one!

"You liked me using my night stick," he grunted, ending the kiss. "You'll like using me, too, and me using you."

He used his hold on her hair to force her head back, exposing her throat.

He bent foreword. His mouth found that, too!

She had never been treated like that before.

His mouth moved down, from her throat -until he was at her breast.

He lifted his head a little, I could see her breast extend, pulled by his mouth, as he sucked it as he moved.

The hand holding her hair freed itself, and twisted at one nipple as his mouth teased the other.

I watched -and she had her head up a little now, too, watching, because he was no longer at her breast. He twisted a little more, so that he was licking at her stomach.

And he moved a little more, so that his head was at her pelvis, and first one hand, then the other, met at her groin.

Tina turned a little away from me. She was looking right at his erect penis -in this position it wasn't more than a few inches from her face.

He seemed to be spreading her vulva with his hands -his lips were close to it, he seemed to be blowing cool air at it, as a child might to cool down something before eating it.

"You want this, don't you?" It was an unnecessary question, of course she did.

"Yes!"

Her hips bucked -his mouth found her, open, ready.

His torso was twisted, knees still at her shoulders, but he moved a little, and his cock moved closer to her.

Then, like the baton earlier, it lay across her lips.

He raised his head a little, looking under his twisted torso, at her face, at his cock.

I heard him say what I expected: "Do me, too."

She shook her head -she didn't want to.

He knelt upright again, abandoning her cunt.

His hand found her hair again, and tightened around it, holding her head firmly.

He had is cock in his other hand. He moved so that his penis lay across her lips.

"Do me!"

He forced its shaft across her lips, but she resisted, keeping them closed.

"Take him" I said aloud to the monitor screen. "Take him in your mouth!"

His cock brushed across her cheek, back to her lips, again and again, scortum against her chin, him domanent over her.

It happened! She pursed her lips against that shaft, as she did to the baton.

Then her lips opened.

He moved again, drawing his shaft along those lips, until its tip was at her lips.

He pushed,

forcing,

and finally,

finally,

there was a motion,

and he let her hair go,

because the end of his cock found its way into her mouth.

I saw my wife's lips close around it.

"You know what to do," he muttered, as he withdrew, turned, lowered his head again, going down on her again, and I watched, fascinated,

as he moved over her, straddling her,

as she raised her head,

following the motion of his hips,

and took a little more into her mouth,

and how his hips followed her head as she lay it back on the bed.

I could see her cheeks indent, as she sucked at him!

His own mouth was working, too, his tongue in her, tasting what his baton had, earlier. Each time he'd raise his hips, she'd lift her head, following his cock, not giving it up.

His own head was between her legs, sucking at her, his tongue being a small penis, exciting her,

until,

in a few moments,

Tina sagged back, panting, flaccid, because he drove her over the edge.

He was close, too.

He rolled off her, his hand grasping the head of his cock, squeezing it in the classic maneuver to avoid premature ejaculation.

"Not like that", he said, "I don't want to come like that. I want to be in your cunt."

He moved to the side of the bed, his face wet with his saliva, and her juices.

He took the pillows, bunched them, forced a hand under the small of her back, and lifted.

She helped a little, lifting her hips, until both pillows were under her ass.

Now, at the bed's foot, his hands found her knees, and pushed them apart.

I had never seen anything as sexy, as obscenely erotic, as Tina, there, her hips lifted by the pillows, hands attached to ankles, spread as wide as she could be.

He knelt between those knees, leaned foreword,

and that's what adultery looks like, what being cuckolded looks like, as he rammed into her, almost frantically, the first penetration fast, not gentle.

He started to go slower, and deeper, as he neared his peak.

The best part was that Tina was moving under him, lifting to meet him, her buttocks being driven back to the pillows when he pushed into her.

Soon enough, he grunted his way to an orgasm, and he emptied himself into her, and too soon to be romantic,, rolled off her, and lay beside her.

They were both breathing heavily, almost puffing.

Tina, still shackled, recovered first, and looked at him.

"Joseph?"

"Huh?" he wheezed.

"Joseph, I don't think I like submission and bondage."

"Huh?"

"Take these off, Joseph, I feel lousy about doing what we did."

"Oh."

He got out of the bed, fumbled in his pants pocket, and in a minute had the cuffs off.

His hand went to her crotch while she rubbed her wrists.

"Want more without bondage, baby?"

"I had enough, Joseph. I wondered about not being in control, and now I know, it's not for me. Fun one time, but no more, not for me."

"It works for some people," he told her, "I want it to work for women I'm with, I like the control."

"It doesn't work for me."

The mood in the room had changed.

"Betty, we just had sex, you went down on me, and I did you, too. You can't take that back."

"It's time to stop, Joseph. You should probably go home now."

"It'll be much nicer if we spend the night together, Betty."

"I don't want to do that, I really need some time along."

"But…"

"No but's, you're starting to ruin a good evening. Maybe you'd better go home, Joseph."

She got out of bed, and handed his pants to him.

By then I pulled my robe on, ready to go down and rescue her.

No need. He pulled on some clothes, carried others to the door.

"I'm sorry, Betty. I thought it would work out better. Goodnight."

And he left.

The outer door to the apartment slammed a few seconds before I opened the inner one, that opened to the rest of the house. Tina, tears in her eyes, wrapped in her robe, was in my arms.

"Don't hate me for doing that, for lettinging him do that to me, Bob, I'm sorry."

"Everything's OK," I told her.

"It must have been awful for you to see that!"

I held her, still aroused by the sights, the memories.

"I feel cheap, and used, and like a tramp. I hate that I did that! How can you ever want me, or even touch me again, after that."

I muttered something about loving her all the more, but I was too distracted to pay attention to the words. This woman, wrapped in her robe, smelled of sex!

Smelled of another man!

She was, I realized, still wet with him!

I couldn't help myself.

I took up to our our room, our bed, offering what comfort I could.

We lay on it, her head was nestled into my shoulder, and I moved, and moved her, until we were face to face. "How can you hold me, or even touch me, after I did that?"

I rolled towards her a little, so that she was on her back, my head above hers.

And I moved down towards her.

"No, no, honey, don't kiss me, not yet, I want to wash myself, I took his penis in my…"

"I know, it's all right," I told her, and my lips smothered the last word.

Her lips were closed, clenched.

I lifted my head enough to say "I love you, Tina", and lowered it again.

"But his penis was there, honey", she started to say, until my tongue pressed against her lips for a moment, then against her teeth for a moment, then met hers, the same tongue that…

and I ejaculated again, a little, quietly, while my mind replayed the image of what was, a few minutes ago, where I was, now.

And Tina responded, her holding me to her, kissing back.

"Tell me you're not mad at me," she muttered through the kiss.

"I'll prove I'm not."

I pulled at her robe, opening it.

My hand traced down her body, between her legs -so hot, so wet.

"No, wait until I wash, don't touch me!"

"I'll show you I'm not mad."

"Let me take a shower," she said, starting to sit up, "and then come back and love you."

"No, no, love me now, let me love you…"

"But I'm dirty, I'm covered with his sweat, his saliva, his, his… I stink with him!"

My lips stopped her talking.

I forced her down again.

I kissed her lips again.

"I watched every minute," I said, "I know what happened."

There were tears in her eyes.

"How can you touch me, after that?"

"Like this, does this prove I'm not mad?" I said, and kissed her lips again.

She kissed back, accepting my proof.

And I moved, so I could kiss her chin.

I turned her head away from me, and my lips and tongue found her ear.

"He did that," she said, almost a protest.

Her shoulder.

"That, too."

Her hand touched me. "You're not even hard, not a little bit, you're just trying to make me feel better."

"I'm not hard because I masturbated three or four times because you were so sexy," I claimed.

I moved lower, to her breast, and my hand found the other one, tongue and fingers, teeth and fingers, working on her nipples, and I felt her hand on the back of my head, pressing me hard into her breast.

"See, that's not so bad" I muttered, my mouth full of her.

"No, not bad, nice, but he did that, too, his spit is probably still on me… " she said, and I moved, my head pushing against her hand, lower, to her navel.

"Nice, very nice. This is all part of flooding," I told her. "I loved you doing it."

I could feel her go rigid as she felt me there, nuzzling into her stomach.

"You watched everything?"

"Mmm, yes" as my tongue made circles around her belly button.

My hand found her knee, and pulled at it, and her legs opened a little, she still had a hand on my head.

"You know he was in me, then…"

"Mmm, yes…"

and my tongue drifted down lower, I was breathing in the scents from her hair.

"But, he, he…, Bob, he ejaculated in me, let me clean up…"

I had by then moved my hands to either side of her cunt, and spread it, opening those lips.

"Tina, I know that, and I know I wanted you to do that, and you don't have anything to feel bad about, or dirty about…"

"But, but…"

My tongue found the opening, and touched her clit.

The hand she had on my head stopped trying to stop me -her legs opened wider, she rotated her hips up, exposing herself, and her hands, on the back of my head, pushed me deep into her!

Smelling.

Tasting.

Licking.

I felt her move a little, and then felt her lips close on my own masturbated limp penis.

I moved so my knees straddled her head, holding my penis above her face, making it easy for her. Just like Joseph did a little while ago.

But with me in her mouth, and her cunt covered by my mouth, I grew a harder, and she, more ready.

We were able to have sex, after all.

And slept in each other's arms, covered with our own perspiration, and his. Our own juices, and his. And, uniquely, our love for each other -not his!

Tina, finally, understood that part of me.

We were awakened by the special phone.

"Hello?" she said.

A pause.

"Hello Joseph."

"No, not tonight, Joseph. Or tomorrow, either."

"No, I don't think I'll be seeing you again, Joseph."

"Good-bye."

She turned to me. "Is that OK with you?"

"Yeah."

"He said I had real promise in bed, and wanted to see me again, to play some more."

"Not gonna do that, huh?"

"Not with him. I want to feel good when I make love or have sex."

"You wanted a different experience. I guess you got it."

"Yeah, I suppose so. I did learn some things. Maybe sometime we could try some of those things, but I want it with love, not just for sex…"

"Yeah, we will. Are you OK with what happened with Joseph -you don't still feel cheap…"

"No. I was worried about what you'd think of me. You made it all right last night."

"Good. Ah, are you going to date some more?"

"I learned a lot from Joseph. Do you want me to learn more?"

"Yeah."

"I still have that date with Phil. I think I'll keep it."

She wore conservative clothes, and drove off to meet Phil at the restaurant the next evening.

Three hours later she was home. "I actually had a dinner date with a guy! It was nice!"

She got ready for bed, and met me there, and while in my arms told me about her adventure.

They met, she said, in the bar, and he was a gentleman. They had a quiet dinner, and "I had to make up a lot of stuff. I did pretend to be Betty again. He was a really nice guy, and he walked me to my car after dinner. We stood in the parking lot for 15 minutes, talking, and doing a little flirting. He asked me if I'd go out with him again, Bob."

By now I had her nightgown off, and was paying attention to her wonderful breasts. I flattened one with my hands, had my mouth on it, sucking, teasing her nipple, then lifted up enough to ask "What did you say?"

Her hands on my head forced me down again, as she answered. "I gave him my new phone number, honey, and told him I'd love to. Is that all right?" she asked, as her hand traced down my body, to see what my penis thought, too. It was at attention, and began getting attention from her hand. "I guess" she said between kisses, "that means it's all right. I wish I understood why this gets you so excited."

"I don't understand, either, but it does. Like, thinking about you having sex with Joseph drives me crazy…"

"So I guess it's all right that when he tried to kiss me, I let him?"

By now I had rolled onto her, and she guided my cock to her vagina. While we were making love -no, having sex -I looked down at her, looking up at me, and at her breasts, and stomach, with my groin and hers joined, moving together, and said "Do you realize that maybe if you like this guy enough, you've probably going to have him doing this to you, looking at you, fucking you…?" and her legs wrapped around me, and she whispered "of course, and you'll be watching, and masturbating, won't you?" Our thrusts, our urgency, our orgasms, answered any questions about whether it was a good idea.

I had wanted her to be a better sex partner: she was getting there.

Part 3

Phil called the next day, asking for a second date. She agreed, gave directions to her "apartment", and confirmed a date for Saturday, five days from now. "I'll pick you up at 7, and I can't wait to see you again" were Phil's parting words. If he had wondered about how sexy Tina aka Betty sounded it might have been explained by my mouth on her breasts and cunt while she sat, spread legged, talking to him, while her free hand directed my mouth to this place, and that place, and she hung up just in time to not telephone the sounds of her orgasm.

Later she reminded me, "don't forget I'm meeting Paul tomorrow night".

Tomorrow night came, and I got a kiss good-bye as she went to have a drink with Paul.

Two hours later she came back, smelling of cigarette smoke, lip stick a bit smudged.

A few minutes later, again in bed, I heard of Tina's meeting Paul, a handsome man, a light skinned black man, the manufacturing executive being transferred to Dallas.

Tina started out sitting across from, then beside him at the Smithtown Sheraton lounge. She told me of his arm around her shoulders, and a kiss, and another, and what it's like to kiss a man with a beard. She talked of how he suggested since they were getting along so well, that they might take a room "and get to know each other better" and how she declined and started to leave. Of how he asked if she'd go out with him again, and apologizing for being so aggressive, and how she said "maybe" and how she gave him her "Home phone" number. Of how she came home, and was horny and how I'd better do something about that, and how I started to do something about that only to have her phone ring, it was Paul calling to be sure she got home, and could they go out again, and how she agreed to see him tomorrow, and how she gave him directions to pick her up.

My wife was a very different person in bed, now, much more active, much more responsive, especially when she told me about her planned date with Paul. "This guy is a fast mover. I wonder if anything will happen tomorrow… " she muttered, as her mind focused on that thought while mine, well, mine focused on that thought, too.

The next morning, the morning of her second date with Paul, she awoke to find her cheeks reddened from being abraded by his beard. "I look awful!" she claimed.

Her date was for 7:30. I sat on the bed, watching as she chose a modest skirt and blouse, got that on over a bra and half slip, used lots of make-up on her cheeks, dabbed perfume everywhere, and asked "Do I look all right?"

I watched as a late model Buick pulled up, and Paul got out, and walked around the house to the apartment door.

I could hear that door bell ring, and in a few minutes watched Paul and Tina leave the house.

I did some things around the house, waiting, alert, until hours later the same Buick pulled into the drive way.

Tina and Paul returned from their dinner. Would she invite him in?

Maybe: he opened the car door for her. She stepped out, and he took her into his arms for a kiss, but I saw her shake her head no, and took his hand, instead, and started around the house to the apartment.

I got to our bedroom, and activated the monitoring channels. I looked into the living room in time to see her bring a couple of glasses of wine in from the kitchen, and hand one to Paul. He sat on the sofa, and she sat next to him.

Paul's wine was finished quickly, Tina was going slowly.

One of his hands went around her shoulder, the other to her cheek, turning her head turned toward him, and he leaned towards her: a gentle kiss. It was so sexy, watching still another man kiss my wife, thinking she was single and available. Well, he was half right anyhow.

But -she pushed him away!

"Don't do that." The audio monitoring was as good as being in the room!

"Don't kiss you? What kind of bullshit is that?"

"My face got all irritated from your beard last night, Paul. Look at how red it is. Your beard is too rough for me."

He started to get up, only to have her pull him back.

"Paul, don't go. I just don't want you to kiss my lips, that's all."

His hand went to her cheek, then to her throat, and hers covered his as it meandered.

"But are you saying you're off limits?"

"No…"

The hand on her throat moved lower, until it was caressing her breast.

"… I don't know," she answered, not stopping him.

She didn't stop him!

"Good girl" I thought. "On course, on time."

He got off the sofa, and knelt in front of her, leaning toward her, over her knees. She sat, arms at her side.

His hands went to her shoulders, to her neck, and then met, under her chin.

His fingers were at the buttons on her blouse! There was nothing subtle about him.

"Wait," I heard her say, and his hands dropped.

She stood, turned off the bright recessed lights, and turned on a smaller table lamp, setting the stage.

"That's better," she said,

and sat down again.

Again his hands went to her blouse.

She leaned back on the sofa, but didn't do anything else to discourage him.

One button, and another, and another, all gave way.

He tugged at her blouse, and she leaned forward so it could be pulled from under her skirt.

Now the final buttons were open, and he reached again, hands around her, she leaned toward him, he got his hands on the neckline of her blouse, and opened it, wide, to her shoulders. She cooperated by leaning foreword, her arms still by her side, and allowed him to slide the sleeves down her lovely arms. She helped, and pulled her arms free of the blouse.

His mouth moved to her neck, and then, her cleavage. She sat, leaning back against the sofa, passive, but seemingly enjoying the sensations.

"Is my beard too rough for this?" he asked, gruffly.

My own erection was massive, but I dared not move, my eyes were fixed on the monitor.

"No…"

"Sexy, not rough," she said to the top of his head as he nuzzed her between her breasts.

He moved back again, his hands meeting at the clasp of her bra, between her breasts. And he fumbled, and fumbled with it.

Finally, in a moment, it was undone, leaving her bra open at the middle, supported by her breasts.

His hand moved up and took one side of her bra.

"I want to see them."

He lifted it away, exposing her. He repeated the maneuver a second time, and his hands moved to her shoulders, brushing the straps down her arms. She leaned forward again, and pulled her arms through the straps, and sat back again, breasts exposed, nipples erect, arms at her sides, as she looked over his shoulder at the hvac vent, and me.

I watched him as he, kneeling in front of her, looked at this woman, passively sitting there, waiting for him to do something, waiting for -something more?

He moved up, again, hands resting on either side of her legs.

"Betty," he said, "don't expect me to be a gentleman with you…"

"Don't hurt me, Paul."

I knew it would happen. She leaned back, he followed, his mouth traced down to her neck.

And moving again so he was no longer kissing her neck, but her shoulder.

She was leaning forward again, lifting her shoulder, making it easier for him.

His head moved, from her shoulder, down, and I watched as his tongue traced out along the wonderful swoop of her breast, until it was teasing her nipple.

She put a hand under that breast, and lifted it, while the other went behind his head, pulling him to her, so now as much as her breast as could fit was in his mouth.

"So it's Ok for me to kiss your tits, huh? That's OK for a black man to do?"

"It has nothing to do with your race -it has everything to do with how rough your beard is. How can I prove that?"

"I'll think of something," he said, as he nursed at one breast, then the other, kneeling in front of her, as she sat back, her hands again behind his head, holding him to her.

While my hands were stroking my penis.

He moved a little, and now his mouth was between her breasts.

She had a smile on her face, as he enjoyed her body.

He moved again, his mouth and tongue still offering homage to her cleavage.

And then his hands were on her knees, parting them, so he could kneel between them, still kissing her.

She sat back passively, allowing him freedom.

He moved higher, so he could kiss her neck.

His hands, moved from beside her hips, where they had been supporting him, to her waist, touching her.

To the hem of her skirt.

I watched as his fingers hooked, and jerked down, moving the hem down an inch.

The movement stopped, stopped by the swelling of her hips.

"Come on, you have to cooperate," he said.

Her own hands moved down to the side of her skirt.

"I will," she confirmed.

And there was a motion, as she released the clasp.

And there was another subtle motion as she released the zipper.

Now he could pull the skirt a few inches lower, down to her hips, exposing her navel.

But no further -she was sitting on her skirt.

I saw he had not only the skirt, but the top of her panty hose, too.

He pulled a little more.

"You have to lift up, Betty."

Sweet Tina, ex-nun Tina, married Tina, acting the way she thought Betty would act, put her feet on the floor, tilted her pelvis and lifted her hips, so that he could pull some more, and I watched as the skirt and panty hose moved over her hips.

The bundle of material went lower, to her knees,

and then he was pulling the hose from her feet.

And she sat there, nude, knees a few inches apart., again sitting back.

He leaned over her knees, until, again, his mouth found her breast.

And in a moment, moved lower.

His hands moved from the sofa, to her hips, to her thighs,

and he parted her legs again.

He was kissing her navel, and I watched as she leaned further back, and opened her legs.

I watched as he moved lower, and traced over her leg, and towards her center.

"Lift up, let me do this!"

And I saw her arch herself, supported only by her back and her feet, his head between her legs, and knew his mouth had found her!

And used her, and she him, for minutes!

"Why is it? ", I wondered, "does everyone what to go down on Tina?"

She moved, not letting him stop, until she was prone, and he was ministering to her from the side. Her head was to his left.

I watched as he knelt upright beside her, and looked at her, in front of him.

I watched as he put one hand under her left knee, and lifted it, so that her leg went up and rested, its calf on the backrest of the sofa.

He pulled at her right leg, until that foot was resting on the floor. She was totally exposed -her eyes closed, but both her mouth and her vagina was open!

He took her left hand which she had resting on her stomach.

Moved it, over her pelvis, down.

He guided her fingers there. "Put your fingers where my tongue was!"

She resisted a little, but then both his hands were busy -his right hand's fingers were probing inside her, his left hand was guiding hers, forcing hers, to do the same thing!

Tina was flushed all over her body, as he guided her fingers into her vulva, moving them against her clit, pushing them deeper in her.

Her body was moving a little against her fingers, and his, as she masturbated herself, and was masturbated, at the same time, and my own hand was busy, too, milking myself, as I watched, enjoying the show, waiting for more…

I watched what seemed like forever, seeing a convulsion, and another, as her body and mind responded to what was happening.

"Keep doing that!" he said, as he stood up.

She must have felt him move, her eyes opened, looking at him looming over her.

"Keep touching yourself, get yourself ready for me."

Her hand started moving again, her other hand joined it, and both were busy, exciting her, one spreading, the other penetrating, while she watched him.

She watched him as he worked at his belt.

She watched him as the belt opened…

"Touch yourself while I show you what you're going to get…"

He pulled his tie off, unbuttoned his shirt, and peeled it off.

Her hands were moving again, against herself, as she looked at him, and over her shoulder to the vent, and again at him.

"Hurry" she whispered.

He kicked free of his shoes, got unbuttoned, unzipped, and he pulled slacks and shorts down, pulling one leg free, and then the other, and left them there on the floor.

All three of us were looking at his erect penis, bobbing.

Her arms reached toward him, her left leg climbed higher on the back of the sofa, spreading herself wide, making herself a welcome place for him, exposing herself, ready.

He grabbed at both of her hands -pulled them to her pelvis. "Hold yourself open, guide me in!"

He moved onto the sofa, got between her legs, leaned over her again, moving, and shifting, he supporting himself on his arms, his cock brushing at her cunt, her breasts just touching his chest, as he lowered himself, and she raised herself, still holding herself open, and that erect cock, incomplete without being in a vagina, and that vagina, incomplete without a cock, found each other. I could see his head brushing against its target, and his cock bending a little as he pressed forward, as its head pushed against that opening, and began moving into it, and that cock, that vagina,

became complete.

He wasn't subtle -as soon as his cock's head found its way he rammed in. He wasn't a good cocksman, the objective part of me thought, remembering how I treated women while I had sex with them. But my own cock was bursting, and his did, too. He was taking big, hard strokes, his shaft between her hands, between her lips, him moving with an urgency, an excitement that was more like a teenager's, than a man who had to be thirty, a teenager whose goal was to get off, to get the release he wanted,, as he pushed in, injecting her, time after time, using her willing vagina as he might have used a tissue, a receptacle for his cock, a place to leave his cum, pushing, intent on satisfying himself, her pleasure was secondary.

And it was over, over in a few minutes.

His disinterest in her, after filling her with seman, was amazing. He pulled out, large but flaccid, and sat panting on the sofa. "You're pretty good" he offered, catching his breath, while she lay there, a leg in his lap, another behind him, as he absentmindedly groped at a breast, and probed at her vagina. "Let's do it again sometime soon."

"Maybe," she said, watching him. Paul was dressed and gone in fifteen minutes, and a moment later my naked fucked wife was in our bed.

"He wasn't as good as you, honey. He was crude! That wasn't good sex at all -it wasn't erotic for me, it was just like being used. Do you think I did good? Was it ok to masturbate the way he wanted me to? I never did that for you. I must have excited him been because he came pretty quickly, didn't he? The only thing he wanted was to have sex with me… " she said.

I was so horny, so erect, I could hardly wait, even though I had masturbated watching them.

"No, not yet," she whspered, as she felt me trying to roll on top of her.

She put her hand on the top of my head, pushing me away from her lips, down, past her neck.

"Prove it's OK, what I did. Prove it like before. Do that, first…"

I understood.

She was so wet from him.

So full of him.

Finally, after my own face was covered with my saliva, her moisture, and his, did she finally pull at my hair.

"Now."

"Get on me, now."

"Get in me, now."

"I won't ever go out with Paul again" she said the next morning as we showered together. "I want to feel sexy, not cheap. Are you mad at me?"

I assured her I was not. I also assured her she should be treated better than Paul treated her.

That evening we found a message from Paul on her line's answering machine.

"Hi, Babe. Look, I'm free for next weekend. I'm going to Atlantic City with some buddies. Come with me. I want to show you off and show you some other things you might like. I'll pick you up Saturday morning, and get you home Sunday night. There'll be me, two other guys, and you. We'll have a good time. Give me a call!"

Talk about assumptions!

I listened as she called him at his office. No, there'd be no AC with him, no, there'd be other dates. "Paul, I didn't feel good about how we did what we did."

"What do you have against black men?"

I wouldn't have believed it if I had not heard her say it. "Damn it, Paul, we had sex! That's as much proof as you can get that I have no problems with race, I have a lot of problems with the way you expect me to go away with you and some other guys."

He interrupted: "You just wanted a notch in your belt for fucking a black -" and she hung up.

"If that's what it means to date, I don't want to do it any more."

I reminded her of how nice Phil was at their dinner-date.

"Oh yeah" she said. "I do have that date on Saturday with him."

By the weekend the abrasions on her face and her breasts, caused by Paul's beard, were pretty much gone, she felt better about that.

Phil, mild mannered, funny, nurdy Phil, sounded very safe -probably, we both thought, not right for what Tina was looking for. But, dinner at Marybells was fun, she remembered, and another dinner out with a man who could be "charming, at times" -her words, would be ok…

"There's more to him than you'd think" was how she remembered him. "First, he looks really in condition -his clothes hardly fit him, he's so big. And, he's really cute, and funny. I do want to go out with him."

It was hard to remember that her first date with him was only a couple of days earlier -the Paul affair came and went since then!

Sure enough, the special phone rang that evening, and sure enough, it was Phil. Tina told me to listen in: well, voyeurs do, don't they?

Yes, they decided, their first date was fun, they both had a good time.

"I'm sorry you're going to be leaving Long Island" he said, because I would like to know you better." She hadn't told me she went that deep into her story with him. "Anyhow", he continued, "where would you like to go Saturday? You could come to my place instead of us going out," he proposed. "I'll cook you a dinner."

That was almost an out and out proposition!

Tina smiled at me, paused a moment, then responded.

"No, Phil, I don't want to go to your place." Of course not, how could I watch? "I would like to see you, though." That was offering him something.

"Tell you what: why don't you come here, instead. We can go out for Chinese. Let's keep it really casual…"

And the plans for Saturday were confirmed!

The next day, Tina thought about the informal evening she wanted with Phil, and chose to wear a set of sweats over some pretty panties and bra. When he rang the bell, Tina was ready -he never got inside. I never saw him. All of that changed in an hour and a half, when they came back.

He was, Tina told me "A big strong smart man."

The monitors were on.

The door opened, Tina led the way in, then he followed. God, he was big -not really tall, but wide shouldered. I saw what she meant when she said strong.

She directed him to the sofa, and went for refreshments. She got wine for herself -"Water for me", he said, "like I told you at dinner, I'm in training."

He got his water, she kicked off her sneakers and socks, and sat beside him, sort of sitting on her legs the way young kids do.

He reached for her, but she interrupted that with a question.

"Tell me about competing in bodybuilding, Phil."

He sat back.

"OK. I love it: it's a great sport!"

"What's it like?"

"Well, we pose and show off specific muscle groups, and try to impress the judges.

"How?"

"There are poses that each of us do that feature our strongest points. Usually it's in an auditorium, in front of an audience, and judges. We all shave off our body hair, then oil ourselves so we look smooth and sleek -it's a great show!"

"Is it, like, sexy?"

His eyes lit up, and he smiled. "I didn't get into it for that, and it's not supposed to be, but yeah, after a pose down, I often get asked out on dates, or invited to some woman's apartment."

"You mean, they want you for your body?"

"That's exactly right. They don't care that this head has a brain. I'm a CPA during the day, and sometimes just a body that's a piece of meat at night! But yah know, sometimes it's nice to be treated like a brainless piece of meat."

"Until tonight you only told me about your day job!"

He explained. "Did you ever date someone who just wanted sex? It's fun for a guy, sometimes, but I thought meeting a woman who was smart, and fun to talk to, like you are, would be better than one who saw me for the first time in a pose-down. And you know what? I was right. I really liked the date we had. It is fun talking to you…"

Tina turned even more toward him. "I understand that, but I never met a body builder before. You know, I'd like to know about that."

"You mean, my competition routine and stuff?"

"Yeah."

He laughed. "But will you respect me in the morning?"

"Sure!"

"Then, so long as you cooperate, any time you like!"

"I'd like here, and now. But wait, what do you mean, cooperate?"

"Well, remember I do take this seriously. Don't make fun of it, OK?"

"I wouldn't do that."

"I gotta get my posing tights from the car."

"You expected to do this?"

"Nah, but I keep a gym bag in the car all of the time anyway. I'll run out and get my stuff."

He left, and Tina faced the AC vent, where she knew I was looking, and blew a kiss at me.

In seconds he was back with a gym bag. "Can I change in your bathroom?"

She pointed the way.

In a couple of minutes he came out, wearing a pair of posing briefs -black, no less, with his body glowing. He was built! "We use just a little oil to make our skin look good. It's absorbed, and won't make a mess."

He carried a big towel, wiping his hands, then spread it on the floor, and stepped on it. "It'll help if you put on some music while I loosen up."

She got Sara Brightman's "Time to Say Goodby" CD going, while he did some stretching, and some other moves, driving his body to what looked like a healthy glow, and a shimmer of persperation.

"OK. Here goes."

"Since you don't know much about bodybuilding, I'll explain what I'm doing as I go along."

"I just did some stretching and some isometrics to get a 'pump' going -you know, increase the blood supply to my muscles, and get warmed up. Now, watch this."

He began his routine, in time with the music.

He went from relaxed to "pumped" -what a transition!

"This is how we demonstrate arm development" he said, and showed biceps, triceps, striking pose after pose, one arm pressing onto the other, displaying wonderful form, and shape, his arms and chest bulged!

"Judges like my arms and back best."

He turned his back to her.

"I show lats like this…"

His back grew: broad, beautiful, symmetrical, lats extended, tapering to a very narrow waist.

"And stomach."

He turned back to face her.

Ripples, washboards, grooves -"When muscles are isolated and defined like this" -he stroked his abs -"we call them 'cut'" he explained, making each muscle stand out, as defined as could be. He was standing under a recessed spot light, not by accident, I was sure, so shadows made him look even better. "We don't drink water for hours before a pose down so we don't get bloated -even a couple of pints of water makes a difference…"

"Legs."

Yes, he had those, too.

Tina sat there, mouth open. Me too. I never saw a body like that!

"Sometimes when I do this I feel like being a piece of beef in a market.

"But it turns out I'm a bit of an exhibitionist, I guess. I always liked showing off.

"I often place in the top three here on the Island in what's called the 'lightweight' division. You can guess what the heavy weights look like."

He moved into what seemed a choreographed routine, moving from one pose to another, his pace, and Sara's music, were to the same tempo.

"And that's my hobby."

He stood there, sweating a little.

"Did you like it?"

Tina's mouth was open in astonishment. "Oh, God, yeah. You look amazing. It's kind of, ah, ah…"

"Erotic could be the word you're looking for" he offered.

"Yeah, I guess so. I guess a lot of women would want to, ah, ah…"

"Yeah, I know. If I date someone I meet at a competition, it's I'm like some kind of trophy for them. That's ok sometimes, because they're like trophies for me, too."

"But, you know, you're different, Betty. I actually got to know you as a person. You know more about me than those women do. I liked posing for you."

He paused, considering something.

Finally, he spoke again.

"Come here," he said.

She got off the sofa, and went to him. The temperature in the room was climbing, now. Sara's music is sensual, he was feeling its effects, moving a little to it.

"Here, feel this."

He flexed an arm, making muscles jump to attention.

She touched, then squeezed it, both of her hands couldn't encircle his biceps.

"Oh, that's incredible," she said.

She couldn't have noticed, but I did, that he was getting an erection.

"Try the other arm."

She did that, too.

"Want more?"

"Oh yeah, I sure do!"

He turned his back to her.

"Try my back, then my chest and stomach."

He was facing me, a small smile on his face, as he moved into a classic Atlas Holding Up The World" pose.

I knew she was touching his back. Then, her hands were on his sides, and, as she moved closer, they moved to his stomach, one hand above the other.

His eyes closed, and he muttered "Oh, I like that. That feels nice."

I watched as her hands moved, slowly, up and down that torso, up over a massive chest, then down again, over the ridges of his abs.

She was staring at the hvac vent, knowing I was watching.

"Don't worry about the lotion I have on my skin. It comes out easily" he said, standing upright now, arms at his sides, swaying a little to the music, until he reached behind himself, to her hips, and pulled her closer to him.

She moved closer willingly, her hands still moving, up and down. His eyes were closed, he was enjoying this, a lot!

I watched that movement, until finally her lower hand cycled to the waist band of his posing briefs before it began up again.

"I love your touch" he said, and she acknowledged that "I never touched a body like yours."

Her eyes were wide open and focused on the vent where I was watching, as the next down cycle her hands went lower than his waist band, and then up again. The bulge in his briefs was growing now.

"I hope you're not going to stop that" he muttered.

"Not yet" she said, as this time her lower hand, on the downward swing, got to the start of that bulge before it began up again.

"I changed my mind. I don't want you to do that," he said, "if it's going to stop with you just teasing me."

Her hands were still on the way up, over his chest now.

"Oh. So, is this teasing?"

Her hands went lower, one beside the other now, until they found the evidence of his erection…

And still lower, to his groin, and then, she cupped him.

"That's teasing, if that's all that happens."

Her hands were moving softly, content to touch, to excite him, and her, and me.

"Your body feels so hard, so strong…"

Talk about being open!

"It's nice, what you're doing," was his response.

There was no rush, no hurrying, with them, they were each -no we all three were enjoying the sensations, the tactile sensations for them, her touching, him being touched, and the visual ones for me.

He had been holding her hips, pressing her into his back. He stopped that, and his hands found her wrists, enjoying the motions they made, and guiding them, as her hands glided over the bulge they found.

After a few minutes, though, he pulled at those wrists, and his hands covered hers, and lead them to his sides.

And then to the waistband on his briefs.

Somehow, he caused her fingers to slip inside his waistband.

I watched as one of her hands traced back, over his hip, under his briefs, its path clear under the material.

Her fingertips slid along the waistband, to his belly, and found hair.

"Oh, you don't completely shave, do you?"

"Uh uh."

He pulled her hand out, to his hip -once again her fingers captured the waistband, under his hands.

"Oh. Oh dear. You mean, there's more you want to show me?" she asked, all kinds of flirtation in her voice, as his hands encouraged her thumbs to get under the waistband.

"You bet there is."

She pushed down a couple of inches.

"Good, do that" he encouraged her.

She pushed some more, and I could see the thatch of his pubic hair, now.

She pushed some more, lowering his briefs. I saw more hair, then a shaft, and more shaft, and more still -he was huge! Tina couldn't know that, at least not yet.

Then that thing, that big thing, his big thing, was free. Tina, from behind, pushed a little more, until his shorts were at his thighs. He took them, then, pushed them lower, and lifted one leg, then the other, through them, and dropped them to the floor. He was naked now, and erect now, and he was big!

He stood upright again, glistening, that cock looking like it could reach across the room!

"That feels much better," he said, as again he stood there, still with his back to her, "I'm glad you agreed to date me again."

"I haven't had that many dates in my whole life."

Her hands went back to his hips, and his, to her wrists, and he pulled her close, against his ass.

"I really want you to touch me" he said.

He pulled her hands around his waist, down his groin, guiding them, until both of her hands were on his penis.

I saw the expression on her face change as one hand went to its head, while the other was around the shaft at its base, and there were inches of shaft between her two hands! He had to be nine or ten inches long, and thick!

"Phil, there's a lot of you there!" she said with a little alarm.

"It's bigger than most, and more fun, too. Most guy's are smaller."

"Uh (she knew I was listening as well as watching), yes…"

Maybe, hell! I'm an engineer, and can deal with objective data!

Tina by now had two hands involved in stroking him.

"Betty, this is a little unfair. I'm buck naked, and you're not."

"Phil, I'm afraid of that thing -it feels too big…"

"I promise I won't hurt you. But I'm still naked, and you're not!"

"Does that mean you wanna get dressed, or…"

"I choose the 'or'. I want to touch your body, too."

He turned to her. Her eyes were drawn to his cock -hell, mine had been, too. He stepped closer, and his arms went around her. It was an embrace, and their lips met.

It was a long kiss, long enough for his hands to travel up and down her back, from neck to ass. Then, his hands found the bottom of her sweat shirt, and he started pulling it up.

She broke the kiss, and stood there, arms raised, while he pulled it higher and higher, until her bra was exposed, and her face covered, and then her face, now flushed, was uncovered, too, and she pulled her arms from the sleeves. He tossed it away.

"What a pretty bra" he said, taking her into his arms again.

"Phil, I'm afraid…"

He interrupted her. "Nothing is going to happen without you wanting it to. You'll see."

She stood, embraced by those muscular arms, and didn't resist when his arms went to the waistband of her sweat pants.

And he pushed down, over her hips, while still kissing her, leaving her matching black panties behind.

It was her turn to break the kiss. Her turn to help by pushing her sweats lower until they were at her knees. She bent down, alarmingly close to that erect cock right in front of her, and pushed them lower, until she could pull one foot, and then another, free of them.

"Now that's a nice start."

Tina was blushing, looking at this man in front of her, equipt with as big an erection as she'd ever seen.

Just standing there, in a skimpy bra, and skimpy panties.

"You wore those for me, didn't you?"

Of course she had, but she was distracted. This was only the fourth erect cock she'd ever seen, and the largest -and she was scared.

I loved the look of his penis as it touched her belly, as they embraced again.

And loved watching my wife, kissing him.

"Betty," he muttered, around the kiss, "It's really time for those to come off."

That idea excited me, a lot. I guess it touched Tina in the right place, too. "Yeah, you're right."

Another pause, as I guess she thought about being uninhibited.

She pushed him away.

The music was still playing, as he stood, one hand on his erection.

Her hands went to the clasp on the bra between her breasts, and released it, holding the two cups in place.

She turned her back to him.

"Help me."

He reached to the shoulder straps, and she, with her shoulders back, and arms back, made it easy for him to slip it along her arms, and off.

Now her arms crossed in front of her, and she turned, covering herself from his gaze.

"You know better than that!"

Her hands moved, slowly, revealing their wonderful upper swell, then lower, until the start of her nipples were visible, and lower still, erect nipples now on display, and still lower, until they found the hem of her panties.

"That's the idea!"

He knelt in front of her, and helped, and watched, as her thumbs went inside the hem, and pushed down, over her hips, helped by his hands, displaying the start of her own pubic thatch.

He, holding her hips, pulled, buried his face in her belly, then released her.'

The movement of those panties continued. lower still, until they were a band, pausing, just blocking his view, and mine, but then, the band was lowered, showing him, showing me, what we both wanted, and still down, down her legs, until she stepped out of them, too. Now there were two very naked people in the apartment, and one voyeur with his own cock in his hand.

"You're beautiful" he said.

She stepped away. "This is a bit like the first time I went to the nude beach on Fire Island, and let guys look at me" she said, smiling, blushing, head tilted, arms behind her back, legs a little parted.

"I don't go there, but there must be some big differences," he said. "Here, maybe you've noticed, we're alone."

"I noticed."

"And I'll bet there's not a lot of touching on Fire Island, but you were touching me."

"I noticed that, too."

"And usually, on nude beaches, there's not a lot real sexy stuff going on, is there?"

"Not that I noticed."

"But there is some going one here, isn't there?"

"I did notice that."

"I know you noticed that you did this to me."

His hand dropped to his cock, he grasped it. There had to be four inches extending beyond his hand!

"Yes, I did notice that," she said. "Phil, you look too big for me. I hope you'll be happy with just touching and kissing. I promise not to just tease you. I'll help you, uh, uh, get off and everything…"

"Don't worry, I promise nothing will happen that you don't want to," he replied.

"I hope not. Come with me, where we can be more comfortable."

She took his hand, and lead him to the bed room.

I switched from one camera to the next one.

She had pulled the covers from the bed. Soon he was laying there, on his back -erect cock standing at attention, his hands behind his head. He was impressively muscled, just laying there. Impressively cocked, too.

Then there were two bodies in bed.

"I'm afraid that would hurt, but we'll touch each other, ok? I'll try to please you," she said.

"We can start with that," he agreed.

There was a kiss, their bodies touching. The camera was showing me her back, and I saw him pull her leg over his hip, then his hand traced down across her ass, until it reached between her legs. I could see him stroking her.

She had a hand between them. I'm sure she was stroking, too.

Her hips were making small thrusts against his fingers. He was taking his time, enjoying every moment. Too bad he was so big she wouldn't let him in her.

There was motion -he was sliding down on the bed, now his head was at her breasts. I guess all men like to do that!

I heard her say "I can't touch you when you're like that. Move closer, so I can, I want to make you feel good, too."

She wanted to masturbate that big thing! Or go down on him. I wanted to see that.

He changed the rules. "Try something, instead. You be in control. Come on, get on top of me." He lay still, on his back.

In a minute she was kneeling beside him.

"No, on me!'

He sat up, actually took her waist and lifted her 110 pounds, so that when he lay back down she was over him, on her knees.

"Come on, just sort of squat over me. Put your hands on my shoulders."

I saw her get her knees beside his hips, and kneel across him, kneeling tall, spread out, eye to eye with him, then bending forward, her breasts brushing his chest.

"Oh oh" she muttered as his cock began pressing against her, his hand guiding its head, back and forth, again and again, across her stomach, to her pubic mound, as she suspended herself there, supporting herself, poised over him.

In a moment she moved, tilting her pelvis, so that he could guide its head along her vulva, instead of her pelvis. I'd never seen a sexier thing, her, with her hands on his shoulders, her back bent in a forward curve so her vagina was "presenting" itself to him, her feet beside his hips, and knees not too far from her elbows. Sounds funny, I know, but it was anything but laughable.

"That's the idea. Does that feel good?" He was stroking his penis's tip long those lips.

"Oh God yes, but don't move, that'll tear me apart!"

"I'm not moving. Just lower yourself a little now."

I was watching as she moved down a little. I saw his penis's head stroke down between her legs, and forward again, and back a little, where he stopped its movement.

"Still nice?"

"Oh yes… "and she moved a little lower.

I saw that he wasn't moving the head of his cock too much anymore, it was just at her vulva, and maybe, just maybe, parting her lips.

"You feel really warm, and wet" he said, and we both saw her face, red with excitement, as she moved a little more.

He had one hand holding himself erect, the other, now, obviously stroking her clitoris.

Tina's face was covered with sweat, I could see small jerks along her body, and her hips.

And then, I couldn't see the head of his penis anymore.

Tina's expression was priceless! Mouth open, face flushed. I knew what caused that!

Phil, true to his word, stayed still.

"It doesn't hurt, does it?"

"God no. At least, not yet! But you're spreading me so wide…"

Her hips were moving up and down a little -maybe an inch or two. She was actually fucking him!

"Take more of me -it'll be a little easier now!"

He held his arms toward her, and she held them, supporting herself. She squatted almost upright, her feet beside his hips, knees bent a lot, her mouth opened, and lowered herself. Another inch disappeared, but there was a lot of penis still visible.

Tina was covered with perspiration now, still moving up and down on him, getting more and more excited, more ready for an orgasm, fucking the top two or three inches of that cock.

"Oh -it's so thick… but it isn't hurting me, not yet…"

Phil helped excite her even more. "I want you to think about this. When you're done fucking me, I'm going to roll over."

"And then what?" she panted.

"And put you on the bottom."

Her motions were a little larger, now.

"What are you going to do…?"

"Spread your legs, maybe put them on my shoulders"

Her little oscillations, up and down, went a little lower, she made another inch of his cock disappear into her.

"You're spreading me so wide…"

Phil said "You'll know what it's like to be fucked by a big cock."

Tina moved down more, skewering herself on him.

And stopped with a gasp and a shutter. His cock and fingers finally stimulated her to an orgasm.

She lifted up, back arched, then sagged down, taking more of him into her. Then, finally, her legs moved, and she was no longer squatting, but laying on him, lowering her mouth to his. He did it: he got her to take it all!

"I can't believe that whole thing is in me! I feel you so deep, and so thick, and even though you're being still I can feel it throbbing and pulsing in me…"

"It is, and it feels good there!"

And their lips touched, not that that mattered, anymore.

She was moving up and down, cautiously, enjoying the sensation of that big cock in her.

Finally Phil said "That part was for you. This part is for me."

He wrapped his arms around her, and rolled, so that he was on top now, just as he promised.

"I don't mean to sound corny, but staying still like that was hard…"

"This isn't the time for jokes… " she said.

But by then he was withdrawing, and she was concentrating on the sensation of that long thick cock moving in her, out of her, creating a vacuum, sucking…

They were both looking between them, and I could see, too, as his erection moved out, glistening, wet, wet from her, went from spreading her, from being in her…

I watched the muscles on his body tense, as he positioned one of her legs, then the other, up, so that they were along his torso, on his shoulders, and he moved into her again…

That position allows the deepest penetration -her "Oh!" confirmed that.

The thrust rocked the bed.

And he thrust into her, again, and again.

Her eyes were closed -mouth open -arms holding his hips, but not stopping him.

"Tina, watch down there when I fuck you" he commanded.

I saw her head lift, so that she could look down, and we both saw that rod moving in and out, hips flexing, her hands on his chest, feeling him move in her.

"I've got some bad news for you" he said after a few minutes -they had been in bed, having sex, for what seemed to be a long time…

My wife, under him, fucking him, now enjoying each movement, asked "what's that?"

"When I get close to coming, like I am now, I get hotter, and longer, and thicker."

"Good." Then, she was silent, concentrating on the sensations.

"Can you feel it?"

"I can!"

"I can't hold back much longer…"

"Good, don't hold back, you can come…"

"Put your hands down there…"

She did.

"Spread yourself for me, touch me…"

She was doing that. I could see that she was excited by the idea, her hand was moving in time with his body, and then she said "I can feel it getting bigger…"

Each movement exposed and then concealed his glistening shaft, his balls were slapping against her, and his motions became stronger, the bed was rocking, as his hips flexed, until he went rigid -deep in her "I'm sorry, I can't hold off anymore, you're too exciting -feel me come!"

"I can -I do -it's… " and she shuttered, bucking for a minute.

He was still, not moving, just pressing into her, for those moments while he filled her, pumping into her, satisfying himself, releasing himself.

He began making a few gentle motions, pushing his deposit deeper, continuing for a gentle, almost a loving few minutes, then stopped, still deep insider. Finally, he rolled off her, trailing moisture, trailing a thread of what he put there, white, stringing from the end of his cock.

He lay beside her, muscles still enlarged, but his penis laying across his leg, no longer 'cut'.

Moments passed as they recovered. She rolled on her side, facing him: "You're an amazing man…"

Her hand went to, and found, his penis, and began stoking him.

Until, finally, he muttered "I know you told me you're leaving Long Island. That's too bad, I like spending time with you."

"I know, but that's just the way things are. You've given me a nice memory. And I think I'll be sore for a couple of days, too."

Her hand on his cock was working -it was growing erect again, still soft, but noticeably bigger.

She sat up -began leaning towards him -

"No, don't do that now, not after I was in you. Just touch me… " he pleaded.

"The only thing on your penis is what I put there", she said, leaning over still more.

In a very short time that cock grew again…

"Do you want to be in me again…"

"No, just do that… " and the touching was successful -this big strong gentle man's cock throbbed a few times, the ejaculant just appearing on its end, not in spasms, not spraying out, as he must, in her.

Tina lay down next to him again.

His cock, still in her hand, began shrinking…

"Can I spend the night? I'd like to wake up with you…"

"Phil, you'd only make my life complicated…"

"I understand. Let me stay a few minutes, then I better go…"

"Yeah, that would be best."

The few minutes turned to a half hour, until he finally sat up, bent over, and kissed her.

"Thanks, Phil. You've been really nice."

He left the bedroom, and in a couple a minutes came back, dressed, carrying his gym bag.

He bent over her, kissed her. "Bye, Betty. Thanks, and good luck. Call me when you come back to visit. The offer of another dinner and the next morning's breakfast is still open."

He kissed her again, and left.

She got out of bed, saying to the vent "Let me make sure the door's locked. I'll be right there."

In a minute she was with me in bed.

"Come here, big guy" she commanded.

I climbed on board. God, she was loose.

"It's going to take a while before I shrink. Did you see how big he was?" she wanted to know.

We agreed it was big. Really big.

"Now, if I wanted to repeat with somebody, I'd think about him" she said. "He's nice, and sexy, too… Maybe -" she was moving against me now -" maybe sometimes when you're doing this I'll think about him, and you can think about him doing me, too…"

Yes, we had a mutual orgasm!

Phil's performance shared our bed for the next few months -and Tina became a much better lover. Her hands, her mouth, everything was a tool for pleasure.

Then, at my suggestion -it was accepted easily -Tina started doing something else.

About every three months, Phil gets an email from 'Betty'.

You only need to read part of the message she leaves.

"Phil, it's Betty. I'm going to be on Long Island on business, and will be staying at the Smithtown Sheraton Tuesday. If you're free, drop me a line. I'd like to see you."

He always responds, she always sees him. Except now, he spends the night with her at the hotel, and leaves by 8 AM so he can get to his office on time.

Checkout isn't until noon.

Neither Tina nor I get to work before one.

And that's how transformation works.

If you got this far and liked the story, send me a line.