An Innocent Wife's Story 
by JeanP
excerpts by RickP
some from Dirty Amber 2/4
some from .. vacation/beach??? club something..

SHHHHHHHHHHH.  Hi my name is Jean. My husband Rick 
doesn't know I am publishing this story to the Internet even 
thought he did recently write it. He's not a web person per sa and 
certainly not into these types of publications, so for now it's safe 
to send this out; eventually it will end up on the web site, but read 
on.
I won't even go into any background, Rick's writings do a good 
job of that; I did add important points onto the end however. 
As for myself, I'm 28 and have been married for several years 
having married shortly after high school. One thing that got me 
going into all this was the fact that I was (I'm sure because of my 
looks) always in the `in' crowd in high school, so I struggled hard 
to stay a virgin until I got married. After years of marriage, I 
began to look back and wonder if I had missed anything; I guess 
you could say there were repressed feelings there and yes a good 
chunk of resentment.  I think all this gives me a surprising sense 
of ease with where I'm at today.
As for why I'm publishing this story, it is simple - This is for 
strictly innocent wives like myself who at best only ever 
`wondered' what it might be like.  I'm publishing this because 
quit frankly I was blown away by how great it was and how I 
really had NO IDEA; it's one of those `different world' 
experiences in life that you can't explain, you just have to try it.  
Hopefully you will be inspired to work out your own plan - trust 
me you will NOT regret it!  Enough said, just read, enjoy. AND 
LEARN!
..................
I have been having a hard time with the events that recently 
transpired, indeed are transpiring even as I write this.  My wife in 
her `wisdom' (actually she has done a good deal of work in 
psychology) has simply suggested that I write my thoughts and 
feelings down to help me resolve them.  Actually as of today 
(Friday), we have not had sex for a good month, ever since 'the 
big event'.  So when my wife called me at work about 10 this 
morning and said I should blow off the day and come home, she 
had a big surprise for me, needless to say my heart raced and I 
was excited with anticipation the whole time I drove home. 
I was even more excited when she met me at the door wearing 
the same super sexy outfit she wore that fateful evening.  But to 
my great and immediate dismay, she just pecked me on the check 
on her way out the door as she said `hi hon, your surprise is in the 
computer room, and dinner is in the fridge all ready just heat it 
up; hope you like your surprise!' `Wait a minute' I yelled.  She 
paused only as she was half in the car door, anticipating my 
questions `I'm just going to my daily workout hon and the outfit 
is just a trigger for you.  You'll see go look at your surprise'.  
And she was off.
When I got to the computer room everything looked normal 
except that the TV and VCR had been moved onto the desk.  I 
didn't see any note until I bumped the desk and the computer 
screen lit up.  There in all its glory was the infamous web site 
with pictures of my wife only this time, to my shock, there was 
no masking out.  Superimposed on that was a note typed into 
Word that explained her surprise. 
To make a long story short, she basically said that I didn't seem 
to be taking `that night' too well and that she was very very 
concerned about it.  She thought I needed to work some things 
out and needed time, therefore, she would be leaving me alone 
for the weekend and wanted me to try and relive the events of 
that night in my mind, by video and most importantly on paper.  I 
have to admit a large part of me totally agreed with her so it was 
relatively easy to get to work; this story is what I came up with 
and it has helped me many times over.  As the weekend 
progressed, I greatly resolved her lying to me as she went out the 
door, her infidelity that fateful night, the real signal her outfit sent 
me regarding her weekend away.  
Below is what I came up with. Oh regarding the spelling and 
typos, you should also know that as I sit here writing, while 
looking at the new web site and replaying the videos of that night 
(yes plural), my wife had set out some lotion and a towel, so most 
of the prose was typed single handedly.  Now for the story.
That night, as I thought hard about what was occurring, I was not 
sure exactly when the transformation had occurred. I could only 
see that my wife was different. As I looked at her now, I was 
turned on by her much more than I had ever been. My wife's 
physique had reverted to when we had dated, but it now was 
more muscular. Jean had shed pounds, yes, but she had shed even 
more inhibitions. As she turned for me, modeling her outfit, I 
marveled at Jean's body and her style of dress. 
Her feet were in heeled shoes, not high-heeled shoes, but 
anything with heels was cause for notice. The discomfort of 
wearing heels must obviously be worth the result she expected. 
She wore black leather shoes, consisting of a few strings leaving 
her feet mostly exposed. Her legs were tan, really tan. Up until 
the last several months, the only good tan I could recall was back 
when we were dating, over 14 years ago. Her legs weren't skinny, 
but not fat either. They had muscle definition that spoke of 
strength underneath. With the heels on, her calves begged for 
attention from the first casual glance. 
Jean's waist, well, she had never really had an hourglass figure. 
She did now. She wore a black body suit from head to toe; only 
the thin black material covered her breasts. It was like the suit 
was painted on her. I was amazed; often I had told her how 
unbelievably horny her skin tight spandex biker shorts got me 
and here she was in the same thing from head to toe. When she 
saw my reaction, she smiled and explained that she had invested 
in the body suit, hiring a seamstress who specialized in costumes 
for strippers adding that despite it's appearance, it removed quit 
easily. The garment was tailored for her body, specifically her 
breasts, lifting them slightly to form the classic profile of perfect 
breasts.  
Jean had lightened her hair, and it was pulled back behind her 
ears before falling to below her shoulders. She had spent a small 
fortune in a trendy area of town getting her hair styled by 
someone highly recommended.  
My wife didn't really wait for my reaction, as soon as she was 
fully in her suit, she quickly walked to the door, and said, "See 
you there" and stepped out into the night. 
This evening was a major turn in our lives. Jean had showed not 
just courage, but no fear as she had left the house. From a long 
history of low self-esteem and lack of confidence about her 
looks, she was now on the opposite extreme, confident of herself, 
her body, and its attractive pull on men. 
As I thought back on it, I realized that this change had started 
over a year and half ago. Years of promising to diet had always 
yielded to appetizing food. One day, Jean had surprised me, and 
said, "You know, if you take me on another cruise to the 
Caribbean, I'll go topless on one of those French beaches." One 
of my biggest fantasies was to imagine myself lying in a lounge 
chair or a beach towel, perhaps 40 yards from the beach, and to 
watch my wife rise, topless and wearing a g-string bikini, and 
walk into the water to cool herself off. From the back, she would 
look practically naked. The beach, of course, would be inhabited, 
and this would be in plain view of everyone. It didn't matter that 
they might be from a different culture and similarly undressed. 
Her return trip from the water, wet, with hardened nipples, head 
held high, was what really made me hard. 
It was approximately 7 months later that I had received a large 
bonus from work. It was enough to pay off some debt and still 
afford a cruise. I brought home several brochures from cruise 
companies, but we already had in mind the cruise line we liked. It 
had been a matter of finding the right stops, and particularly for 
me, the right beach. With a little additional research on the 
Internet, I had found several islands that had topless beaches. We 
weren't really interested in the nude beaches. 
My wife's promise had been that she would be in shape for this 
cruise, so we had picked a cruise approximately eight months 
later. I had also received a raise, so it was within our budget that 
we could again afford membership in a fitness club. A club had 
recently opened near our home, and we both realized that if it 
weren't convenient, we wouldn't use it. This club had all the 
major equipment plus an aerobics program. Further, the club 
provided a personal trainer to at least develop a personal training 
schedule based on the desired outcome. 
Jean had explained to the female instructor that we were going on 
a cruise. She not only wanted to lose weight, she wanted to look 
absolutely in shape and sexy. The lady had inspired confidence, 
as her own figure was excellent. The lady told her that gains 
could be made in eight months, but if she really wanted to look 
different, it would be a daily commitment of proper dieting and a 
mixed schedule of rigorous aerobic exercise and weight training. 
For an additional fee, we had hired the lady to personally 
supervise my wife's exercise and to hold her accountable to the 
program. 
I went the lighter route, but had managed to trim off the pudge in 
my stomach and add more definition to my arms, legs, and 
stomach. Not bad considering my work schedule that required 
out of town travel. 
My wife, on the other hand, had gone full speed ahead into the 
program, figuring this was her best and possibly last chance to 
look great before age made it too difficult. So she had dedicated 
herself to it, and the program worked. A couple weeks before the 
cruise, Jean was able to buy dresses two sizes smaller than when 
she began as well as new bathing suits. I usually liked to watch 
her try on these types of things, but she insisted that that her new 
clothes be a surprise for the cruise. 
The cruise was fantastic. I was utterly amazed at how Jean had 
dressed, changing from the shorts and T-shirt routine at home to 
a classy, sexy lady on board during the evening and a teasing, 
skimpily clad woman during the excursions. This wonderful 
vision was possible because Jean had changed other parts of her 
life. Rather than shopping by store names, she had looked for 
salespeople who looked really good in what they wore. If they 
had time to help her, then she would stay in the store and explore 
dress possibilities that previously, well, she probably would have 
ignored or assumed would not work for her. As a result, she tried 
different colors and different cuts, and found herself choosing a 
fair amount of clothes intended for teenagers or young adults. 
The clothes she purchased were not immediately provocative, but 
I liked what I saw, as her clothes more than hinted at the 
attributes of the sexy body beneath. 
For swimsuits, well, she hadn't shopped for suits to wear to the 
neighborhood pool. She had purchased outfits that captured my 
attention, and, frankly, everyone's. She ended up shopping from 
catalogs and tanning salon type stores as she stocked some of the 
wilder suits. She bought a nice one-piece conservative suit that 
she liked and that would be good around familiar friends. But 
otherwise, it was bikinis, something she hadn't worn since she 
was in college. She had always liked suits that came high on her 
hips. Only now, she was also choosing bottoms that barely rose 
above her pubic area. It had required some shaving. 
And the bikini tops she had chosen, well, she never would have 
worn them around any of our friends. The tops held the smallest 
amount of fabric possible and were fastened by little more than 
strings. Her breasts hid beneath fabric that gave the apparent 
potential of falling off given the mildest casual upset. I was really 
excited about Jean wearing bikinis. With the weight loss and the 
muscle that now rippled at her stomach, combined with skimpy 
suits, my wife looked absolutely breathtaking. And besides, there 
really weren't many of our age group who could still wear 
bikinis. I was pleased that my wife could. 
It was four days into our cruise that we arrived at our selected 
island. Unlike our previous cruise 10 years earlier, our table 
included couples of almost the same ages and in the same life 
stages. While the group was fun, both Jean and I had been 
mindful that the new Jean blew away these women both in 
physique and dress. This was most obvious by the way the men 
had admired my wife while at the beach, by the pool, and even in 
her more formal dresses during dinner. It was a great group, and 
we enjoyed doing things together. It was, therefore, a difficult 
matter of tact when it came to revealing that we had private plans 
for the next port of call.  We had only offered vague descriptions 
of where we were going. Jean mentioned the name of the beach 
to one of the wives, and said only that she and I had heard about 
it from others (she didn't say on the Internet!) and wanted to 
check it out. 
And so we did. We hired a taxi, which took us to the beach. It 
was only a short walk down the beach to the nearest stores where 
we would either find or could call a return taxi. The beach was 
beautiful. It had virgin white sand that gradually slipped under 
the clear blue water. These islands were curious in that the 
beaches were only a couple of hundred yards each, separated by 
rocks or a sharp curve in the shoreline, and given different 
names. This certainly was not a beach frequented by the cruise 
travelers, but the beach was gradually filling with people who 
stayed in the nearby villas along the beach. 
"Well, my sexy wife, here we are. If you want to back out, I will 
understand. But, I want you to know that I think you're absolutely 
beautiful, and the vision of you on this beach with only your g-
string would be a memory I would never forget." 
Jean didn't say anything. She walked to the middle of the stretch 
of beach and laid out her towel and set her bag down. I was just 
lying down on my towel when she asked me to put suntan oil on. 
She removed her beach cover, and was wearing a string bikini, 
with g-string bottom. She already had a good base tan, but the oil 
was something different for her. She usually preferred, and had 
used so far during our trip, a high protection factor lotion. She lay 
on her stomach while I poured the oil on her back. Her body 
glistened in the sun. I rubbed it all over her back, her arms, her 
hips, legs, thighs, calves and feet. My erection quickly grew, 
thinking of how she might look without her top and of how good 
her body felt while rubbing the oil in. 
She turned over, and I began again, this time working from her 
feet up her body. The g-string bottom was white, and as the oil 
touched it, it turned almost transparent, but for some lining 
inside. Time to push the issue. "How about the breasts?" She just 
sat up, and reminded me, "Topless is allowed on this beach. 
Remember that grabbing my breasts isn't socially acceptable." 
She reached behind her, stopped, and said, "Oh, why don't you do 
it for me?" I quickly found the right strings, pulled, and freed her 
breasts to the world. She laid down and said, "Well, are you 
going to look all day or are you going to rub oil in?" I quickly 
complied. 
Covered in oil, she looked awesome. I had to sit up, both to keep 
an eye on her exposed breasts, and to somewhat conceal my stiff 
cock beneath my swimsuit. It was a self-defeating exercise. Jean 
reached inside her bag for something and retrieved it. Finally, she 
stood, expanded her chest with a deep breath, relaxed, dropped a 
disposable camera in my lap, and started walking towards the 
ocean to cool herself in the water. I had difficulty trying to snap 
pictures and keep a clear view of my wife. 
After she was in the water but just a minute, a waiter from the 
local beachside bar came. "You're Americans, aren't you?" 
"Yes," I responded. 
"Thought so. What can I get you to drink, mon?" I ordered a 
Margarita for myself and a Pina Colada for Jean. Maybe a little 
alcohol would help her, but, hey, she was already past the major 
obstacle. 
 Jean finally returned, and I understood how the waiter knew we 
were Americans. It was a topless beach, and Jean was probably 
the only woman on it without tanned boobs. I thought it best not 
to tell her and snapped the remaining pictures as she returned to 
her towel, saving one last one for when she was lying on the 
towel. "Thanks, the camera was a great idea. If it weren't for the 
waiter coming over, I probably would have cum in my suit. You 
look stunning. Thank you." 
"Well, we have all morning, so stare all you like. Just don't linger 
on others who walk by." 
The waiter returned with the drinks. He was very slow in handing 
the drink to Jean, looking her over from head to, well, cunt, with 
his eyes. "If there is anything I can get you, just let me know." He 
walked away. As he left, Jean said, "For a topless beach, he sure 
seemed interested in my top!" 
"Yeah, I think I can guess what he'd like to get you." I looked at 
my wife. She wasn't even blushing, having not shown her breasts 
to a man other than her doctor or husband in over 14 years. I 
looked her over. Her eyes were hidden behind her reflective 
sunglasses. Her nipples were pointed, from the cold of the water 
or from the attention, I couldn't tell. Her bikini bottom was, well, 
the white looked great against her tan skin, but it was definitely 
dark down the middle where her remaining pubic hair remained. 
Later, Jean decided that the rocks at one end of our beach might 
hold some interesting shells, or that we would at least find 
something interesting to look at. She invited me to go with her, 
knowing there was no way I would say "no". The beach wasn't 
crowded, but quite a number of couples had set up between us 
and the rocks, approximately 90 yards away. I remembered the 
absolute turn-on of walking with my bare breasted wife in front 
of these other people. Sure, the other women were topless, but all 
the men still looked at Jean as she walked by. Aside from her tan 
line, I had also noticed that Jean's tits were larger than the women 
I saw. A part of me wished that some of the jealous wives at the 
table, and for that matter, their husbands, could see Jean now!  As 
Jean walked, her tits jiggled sensually. I had to keep adjusting my 
penis, which kept slipping to one side in my swim trunks. The 
rocks, as it would turn out, had nothing interesting to look at, so 
we returned to our towels. Jean reached in her bag and pulled out 
a Frisbee. "Want to play?" 
Jean only played a short time. The whole point was that she knew 
running and jumping would make her tits bounce, and that I 
would probably never recover from the sight. She was happily 
satisfied when I shortly expressed my need for release. We 
returned to our towels, and she pointed out that no one was close 
enough to see. I rolled on my side facing towards her, rubbed 
myself in my swim trunks, and quickly came. After I had 
returned from "cooling off" in the water, I told Jean, "You know, 
the wait and the money was definitely worth just this morning on 
the beach." She smiled and said she thought so, too. 
On the last day of the cruise, a couple from our table party had 
handed Jean an envelope. "We just wanted to give you a little 
souvenir for you to remember the trip by. You can open it later." 
We all hugged and separated. Jean put the envelope in her purse, 
and remembered it later during the flight home. She opened it. 
Inside were 8" x 10" pictures of both of us walking on the beach, 
getting closer and closer. Several shots were included that 
pictured Jean's butt, our Frisbee game, and my wife standing in 
the ocean washing her breasts with water. Others showed close-
ups of her breasts. 
A note was included. "We had a choice, go ride a pirate ship and 
drink some more, or go visit a local beach. Since Jean mentioned 
the topless beach to Julie and the girls, we asked about it from the 
excursion desk. They said it wasn't a particularly commercial 
spot, but that it was nice, private beach and that it was French. 
We thought it would be fun to spy on you. So we hid behind the 
rocks. We thought you might have seen us as you were coming 
towards us, but you didn't.  
Julie wouldn't go topless, or we would have been on the beach 
with you. As it is, we both enjoyed our morning and our evening 
(as we discussed the morning's adventure in an intimate way). 
Here's the photos and the negatives. We kept one copy. I can't say 
if the ship's photo lab kept any copies. We would like to keep in 
touch. We gave you our phone number and address, but we also 
have a small web site. Check it out sometime and e-mail us." 
It was difficult to discuss on the plane, for fear of others hearing 
us. In the car ride home, Jean said, "I can't believe they did that. 
First taking pictures, and then keeping them. The rush developing 
must have cost them a fortune." 
"Well, I'm sure they were eager to see what the film had on it. I'm 
kind of excited by it. Not only does the knowledge that someone 
we know saw your breasts make it an even more powerful 
memory, but knowing that someone out there is probably 
fantasizing with your pictures surprisingly excites me! Besides, 
I'm sure these pictures are better than the ones I took." 
Jean didn't say anything about how she felt about this. Instead, 
she asked, "You don't seem a bit jealous that someone else has 
pictures of me." 
"Well, let me think. Maybe it's because you're mine, and the 
knowledge that someone else desires my wife is a compliment." 
"So you're not jealous if someone sees me naked?" 
"Well, not when I'm there to share in it. I wouldn't want you to be 
flashing guys without me around. Look at you, you're beautiful 
and sexy. You're probably going to get hit on when I'm not 
around, if you haven't already." 
"Yeah, guys flirt with me when I work out sometimes. Does that 
make you jealous?" 
"No, I trust you." 
The conversation had ended there. It was probably two weeks 
later that she had come home from working out at the club, 
looking somewhat preoccupied. "You said I should tell you... 
There was a new guy there today. He was very cute, and it was 
funny how hard he worked to look at me without being 
conspicuous." Jean had worn a white leotard that dipped low on 
her breasts, and she had worn skintight black shorts with it. It 
was no wonder the guy had looked. He probably had several 
good views of her breasts, especially when she was lying down 
or bending over. Jean continued, "There had been some other 
guys in the past who had looked, but, well, you kind of expect 
that kind of thing. This guy was different, though, because he 
caught my arm as I was about to leave and asked if I was single." 
"And you said?" 
"I told him I was married." 
"Good, but it would have been interesting to see what he said if 
you had you were single." 
"What does that mean? You want me to tease guys? Or that you 
don't think I could pick up a guy?" 
"Neither, Jean. Don't get so defensive. It's just fun to think 
about." 
Two weeks later, Jean had arranged for a baby-sitter and we went 
out to eat. She wore a blue denim skirt and a black tube top.  The 
tube top was new. My wife's exercise had made her breasts a 
little smaller, but it didn't return all of their firmness. The tube 
top was skintight and flattened her breasts slightly. And since 
they hung a little, it was obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra. 
The restaurant, as it turned out, had been freezing, and her 
nipples stuck out in the fabric. "It looks like you chose the wrong 
shirt for the restaurant," I had said. 
"Yes, but it's the right shirt for what's next," she answered. 
"What's that?". 
"Dancing. We're going. A friend told me about a club where the 
music isn't too loud, they mix the types of dances, there's few 
teenagers, and smoking is not permitted.". 
"You know I don't like to dance.". 
"Yes, but I know you will at least slow dance with me. But I still 
intend to dance, with you or with someone else. It's been a long 
time, and I don't think I'll have trouble finding a partner.". 
She didn't. We sat at a table near the dance floor. She sat 
patiently through one song and saw that I wasn't about to dance 
to the faster numbers. She made eye contact with a guy nearby, 
and she was quickly on the dance floor. It was the right shirt, all 
right. Her tits swung within her top as she danced, and she had a 
succession of dance partners. Finally, a slow song began and I 
made myself get up and cut in. 
"I thought you might just watch all night.". 
"Watching you has been fun, but I wanted to get close, too.". 
"Uh huh, and I can feel why..." She pressed her pelvis against my 
hard on. As we danced, I kissed her neck. "Stop that! I want to 
dance some more." So I stopped and felt my wife's butt. The 
denim was thin, and the feel of her panty-less skin was 
unmistakable. 
When the song ended, we both had gone to the bathroom. I 
returned first to the table, and watched for Jean to come out. She 
did shortly, but it looked like she had lowered her tube top 
slightly, revealing more of her breasts. Before she got to me, a 
guy that she had danced with several times stepped in and asked 
to dance some more, which she did. 
My wife was having great fun. I was having fun watching, slowly 
getting a buzz drinking beers. Her dance partners eventually 
sorted themselves out to two, and then one. I had danced with her 
the second slow dance, but by the time of the third, I thought she 
might have fun with the guy she had been dancing with. As he 
held her, my wife looked past his shoulder at me and slid her 
tongue out. I was glad she still knew I was around. As the song 
progressed, they began to hug each other closer, and I could see 
that the guy's hands were not only touching her butt, but also 
squeezing her buns. I was a little surprised, but really, there was 
no harm done. And Jean didn't seem to mind. 
The faster songs began again. Jean and her partner began 
mirroring each other's moves. The guy started moving his arms 
up and down, and Jean quickly followed. This guy wasn't stupid; 
he was watching her tits bounce like mad. I was a little jealous, 
not that the guy wasn't me, but that he had the closer view. And I 
was turned on that my wife and lover for 10 years was behaving 
this way. 
Next came a series of shagging songs. Jean loved these. Her 
partner knew how to shag well, and for the first two numbers 
they didn't miss a step. On the third song, however, the guy 
missed a handoff and palmed Jean's breasts as she went by. He 
made what looked to be an obviously insincere attempt at saying 
he was sorry, and I was sure Jean would return to the table, but 
she didn't. Instead, she danced another slow song with him. I saw 
him whisper in her ear, once again clutching at her buns. They 
remained pressed together until the song was over. 
Jean said something to him and returned to the table. "It's time to 
go," she said. I was tired of the place, and I was losing my 
resolve not to be jealous. I was wondering what might have been 
said in their body to body embrace. 
We had discussed it on the way home. She had told each of her 
partners that she was here with her husband, and that she just 
wanted to dance. The other guys had decided to go seek out 
single girls after the first few dances, but the one guy had 
remained. He danced really well, and she had really enjoyed 
herself. 
As I had suspected, she felt his hard cock when they slow 
danced, and she kept the pressure on him, in a way of 
encouraging him to continue to dance. When he grabbed her butt, 
she didn't mind. It was the kind of thing that happens on slow 
dances. When he had felt up her breasts, she realized that maybe 
things were going too far. She knew I had been watching them, 
and I didn't interrupt, so she had danced the last slow dance on 
the assumption that it really was an accident and that I didn't 
mind. Then he had whispered in her ear. 
"Lady, you dance great. But really, I'm wondering why a married 
woman with no panties (he had said this as he squeezed her butt) 
and no bra dresses that way for someone other than her husband. 
It seems like you need more attention than your husband is 
giving.". 
As the dance ended, she had said, "Thanks for dancing with me. 
You're a great dancer."  And she had turned and left. 
"I know you saw what he was doing. Why didn't you stop us?". 
"Jean, I figured that you were okay with it, because you kept 
dancing with him. Besides, my damn penis has been hard for the 
past hour watching you two." 
Jean had been silent a while, then she spoke, "And what if I had 
told him that I do need more attention than my husband is giving 
me?". 
It was my turn to be silent. I thought about how I had enjoyed the 
looks men were giving her, the way the bartender had looked at 
her on the topless beach, and how hard my cock had been 
watching her dance partner fondle her. I also considered how 
quickly I had cum when I viewed the web site of our cruise 
dinner companions. The guy had posted a story about us and had 
included pictures of us. Fortunately he had blurred the faces out 
and didn't post our names, but Jean's bare tits were probably 
being passed around the Internet at that moment. I had showed 
Jean the web site, and after disbelief and a burst of anger, we had 
a rare fuck.  She insisted on doing it standing at the computer 
desk, looking at the screen and wondering how many people had 
seen her. 
 How would I feel if another guy made it with my wife? I was 
rock hard. "Jean," I said as I put her hand on my lap, "here's your 
answer." 
"Would you let me do it?"
I paused to confirm the answer that had flashed to my brain. 
"Yes, but I would want to be nearby in case there was trouble, 
and I'd really prefer to watch."
When we arrived home, we had to wait to jump each other as the 
baby-sitter had to be driven home. When I returned, Jean was 
naked in the garage, and she slowly backed up the steps as I 
approached. Inside the house, we fucked as hard and as many 
times as since we were newlyweds. 
This was repeated each night as we further fantasized, well not 
fantasized, but actually discussed how this would work out. 
Ultimately, we decided we were secure in our relationship, and 
that the sexual thrill that this would bring was worth the chance 
for trying it once. Jean had only one request, which was that I not 
be in the room as it would be too distracting for her. But I wanted 
to watch, so we agreed that I could watch from the front porch if 
we left one blind slightly open. We made plans for a week later. 
So here we are... With my wife out the door, it was now my turn 
to get ready. The efforts my wife had made both for her clothes 
and her hair didn't really surprise me. It just let me know how 
horny this whole scenario had made her. The only variable was 
her ability to pick up a guy. With those clothes, I didn't think she 
would have a problem finding partners to dance, but someone to 
take home might be a little more difficult. 
I left about a half-hour later. I had cracked the blinds to where I 
could see clearly inside. The night was dark, and I would be 
hidden further behind the trees in our front yard, so no one should 
see me on the balcony later. Unknown to Jean, I had also brought 
the Camcorder and a tripod up to the porch, and I had laid it 
down until I would need it later. I put black tape over the record 
light so it wouldn't be noticed. 
I also remembered to crack the window so I could hear what was 
going on. 
I wasn't sure that this was anything that should be tried more than 
once. I wanted to capture the memory, hoping that a tape would 
be enough, so that the sexual peak that we had been on wouldn't 
have to be followed by more one night stands. No way around it, 
I was going to be jealous. 
Jean had decided that the same dance club was the best route to 
go. She was hoping that the same guy would be there, because it 
would be easier to move forward from where she had left off. I 
arrived later and stayed in the rear, watching for my wife. 
She danced again with a number of men, and she appeared to be 
enjoying herself. As she was actually hunting a lover for the first 
time in many years, it was obvious she was very excited, and her 
sensual to outright suggestive moves seemed to make her 
intentions clear. Over an hour went by, and she didn't seem to 
have any luck, by her choice or the guys I couldn't tell. But then, 
her luck arrived. It was the same guy, and he immediately 
recognized her. 
The guy was in shape, maybe because he danced a lot. He was a 
few years younger than I was, taller, and well, better looking. 
They immediately hit it off, and I could see that he was checking 
around the tables to see if her husband was there. He quickly got 
more aggressive, pulling her closer, exploring more of her body 
with his hands, and generally focusing all of his energy on her. 
My wife looked like a woman ready for sex. She didn't look 
cheap, but just looked like a lady who had a physical need and 
had dressed to make it happen. 
They danced for over another hour. I was completely fascinated 
by my wife's dance moves, her sexy swinging of her hips, and the 
abundance of breast that she was showing this guy. At 10:30, she 
went to the bathroom. She had made eye contact with me earlier 
and knew that I was here. Our agreement was that when she came 
out of the bathroom, if she returned to her table, I would step in 
and give her an exit. If she returned to dancing, she was going to 
go through with it. 
When she came out of the bathroom, she returned to her partner 
and spoke to him. She had told me beforehand what she intended 
to say, if it was this guy or some other. After talking about 
several ideas, she had set her mind on the direct approach. 
"This has been great fun. But dancing like this always makes me 
you know. Would you like to come over for a night cap?" 
The guy asked her a question, probably about where I was, for 
which she had a prepared answer. 
"My husband's at his parents with the kids. He wanted me to have 
a weekend to relax. Will you come?". 
We planned on Jean giving one more dance after she had popped 
the question to give me enough time for a head start. I quickly 
left for home and parked the car in the neighbor's driveway, as 
they were gone for the weekend. Jean would see my car, but the 
guy wouldn't think anything of it. 
I didn't have to wait long. He followed her down the driveway. 
The next time I saw her, she walked into the room with his arms 
already around her, squeezing her breasts through her body suit.  
I was peeking through the window blind, knowing that somehow 
I was going to have to be quiet. The camera was filming through 
a separate blind. 
My heart pounded in my throat as this strange guy quickly helped 
my wife pull her body suit top off, freeing her breasts. As his 
hands quickly covered her breasts, my wife closed her eyes and 
gritted her teeth, already in a state of passion. As much as he 
loved playing with her tits, this guy quickly released them to 
yank the rest of the suit down off her feet. 
At the same time my wife had removed his shirt just before he 
pushed her to sit on the bed.  I watched in amazement as Jean 
rather quickly unzipped his pants and pulled out his rather very 
large penis and put the head in her mouth.  I tried to not look at 
her, so I noticed him.  He was a handsome man, tall and lean with 
a fine-featured, aquiline, rugged face. His body was strong and 
muscular, with broad shoulders, a deep chest, neatly cleaved in 
the center, a flat, hard belly, narrow waist and high hips. His 
arms and legs were long and bulged with muscle. He was clean-
shaven, square-jawed and his eyes were deep and dark. His thick 
black hair was swept clear off his forehead. 
 He groaned softly, his head tilted back, his eyes closed, and his 
mouth open. His hands were on Jean's head, rocking it steadily 
back and forth between his thighs. His hips pumped at her face. I 
could see his inflamed penis glistening between her lips. Her face 
was distended by its size. She held the cock in one fist and 
pumped it vigorously as she sucked and licked his head. His 
hands slipped to her shoulders and slid down to her breasts. 
 He bent his head and looked down at her, gasping in delight. 
"C'mon - suck it! Suck my cock. Do it!" he grunted. 
 I went stone cold. I could scarcely believe what I was seeing. 
Hot tears pricked my eyes and my legs buckled. I slid to the floor 
and moaned softly, burying my head in my hands, my back to the 
wall. From the room, the stranger's loud gasps burned in my ears. 
 "Oh yah baby! Yes! That's it - oh fuck yes!" 
 My mind whirled in confusion and rage. The recent sex with 
Jean had been glorious, better than I had imagined possible. She 
seemed to love it, too, and had said so, repeatedly. How could 
she be doing this, then? How had I failed? The rage rose like 
rancid bile filling my throat. For several minutes, I sat there, 
rocking back and forth, whimpering softly. I forced myself to 
take control, taking long, deep breaths and steadying my 
breathing.
 As if coming out of a trance, I looked again and they were on the 
bed now. The stranger lay on his back, naked, while Jean sucked 
and licked his throbbing penis lasciviously, slowly running her 
teeth up and down the long shaft. I noticed with a pang of envy 
that his penis was much larger than my own, his body harder and 
better muscled. 
 I saw her eyes glitter with lust as she dragged her tongue up the 
glistening shaft, her lips wide, her cheeks and breasts flecked 
with pre-cum  The man craned his neck and grinned at her. 
 "Keep sucking!" he murmured. "You give great head. Must love 
sucking cock, don't you?" 
 I started as his comments; implying she was some kind of a 
professional or something; she hardly ever gave `head' as he 
called it and then only during the first year of our marriage.
 I watched as Jean bent her head and drew his cock deep in her 
mouth, sucking it slowly and heavily, working it with her tongue. 
The man's cock spurted and she moaned, swallowing his pre-
cum. 
 "Please," she murmured. "Come in my mouth. I want to taste 
you." 
 "No chance" he grinned and pushed her head away. 
 Jean's head rose, and she smiled wantonly. "Then lick me. 
 "Anytime, gorgeous!" 
 She slid up his body, kissing and licking it, sucking and licking 
his nipples. I watched as she kissed him deeply, thrusting her 
tongue into his mouth. Her legs spread on either side of his body. 
She slithered higher. Her breasts were swollen and hard, her 
nipples rigid with excitement. She lifted them to his lips and he 
sucked on them, kneaded them, squeezed them together and 
sucked both nipples simultaneously. 
 "Ohhh yes!" she gasped, clenching his head. 
 Whimpering and gasping, she slid higher and his tongue and lips 
pressed to her naked belly as she moved. She knelt over his face 
and, spreading her legs wide, pulled her cunt-lips open. The 
stranger gripped her buttocks and thrust his face into her crotch. 
 "Oh fuck yes! Ohhhhh yes! Do it, Michael yes! Ohhh fuck yes!" 
 Jean's obscenity rang in my ears. I watched, transfixed, as she 
moaned and gasped, her hips writhing and swaying over the 
stranger's face. His tongue probed her slit, darting in and out of 
her visibly wet crack. His finger slid between her buttocks and 
she whimpered as she felt it at her anus. He sucked her gorged 
clitoris and she hissed in pleasure, one palm flat on her sucked-in 
belly, the other crushing and kneading her swollen breasts. She 
began to jerk and bounce on his face, her hands under her breasts, 
her head arched back, her eyes half-closed, and her mouth open 
in a wide 'O'. 
 "Do it! Do it - god yes - deeper, babe - OHHHHH yes! Lick me, 
Michael Ohhh Michael, UHHHHH yes!" 
 She moaned and panted, and stroked herself sensuously, 
caressing her face and breasts and belly and thighs, hissing in 
pleasure as he swirled his tongue through her. Getting off his 
face, she sat propped against the bedstead, her knees drawn up 
and spread wide. 
The stranger flipped over and pushed his head into her crotch. 
She gripped his hair and moved his head round and round 
between her thighs, her hips jerking and lurching, her face 
flipping from side to side, her hands caressing her breasts. 
 "Oh man OHHHHH!" she cried as the stranger pushed two 
fingers into her, his tongue flickering rapidly in her slit. 
 Her back arched, her breasts thrust outward and her head jerked 
to one side. Her face was radiant with lust, her mouth torn open 
in a wide 'O', her eyes closed. 
The man worked for several minutes. When he finally stopped, 
Jean was panting and moaning. He straightened and she flung 
herself forward and buried her face in his crotch, sucking his 
rampant penis greedily and hungrily. There was no mistaking the 
lust in her. She wanted it. There was no pretense. 
 The man screwed her face rapidly for several minutes, jerking 
her head back and forth in both hands, pumping his hips at her 
mouth. His head bent to watch her, he gasped and groaned and 
then chuckled softly as she played with her breasts and fingered 
her slit. He pushed her head away abruptly. 
 Moaning, her chest heaving, My wife turned around on the bed 
on her forearms and knees, her naked buttocks thrust back at the 
stranger. 
She spread her legs apart and he shuffled forward, his swollen 
penis in his hand and squeezed it between her buttocks. 
 "Want it in your ass?" he chortled. "Like you said at the club?" 
 "Yes," she moaned. "But later - first - first make love to me, 
Mike!" 
 In the ass? Like at the club?  I could hardly believe my ears. The 
questions erupted again, confusing and clouding my mind. I 
moaned softly in despair. 
 Then right before my eyes, Michael squeezed his cock-head into 
Jean's body. 
She moaned softly, her head lifting, biting her lower hip. He 
groaned his joy, his fingertips on her buttocks and arched his 
head. I watched as his powerful buttocks flexed slowly and his 
hips slid forward. The monstrous penis disappeared into her, 
vanishing between the curved lobes of her buttocks. 
 "Oh yes!" she gasped in joy, her face radiant. "Oh god Michael 
that's so good! Come on, lover - Shove it in! Deeper! Ahh yes! 
That's it! Ohh yes!" 
 Her body rocked forward as the stranger pushed his penis into 
her flesh. He gasped, his buttocks flexed taut, his thighs pressed 
to hers, his balls against her buttocks. His hands slid up her body 
and he squeezed her soft, succulent, pendulous breasts. She 
turned her face and he leaned over to kiss her. I noticed her 
hungry, ardent response. 
 "Come on, Michael! Do me! Make love to me!" she gasped. 
Slowly, he eased his buttocks backward, his cock glistening out 
of her, emerging from the curves of her buttocks. She moaned 
softly and he slid slowly back into her again, going in deep, till 
he was embedded in her. She whimpered and rocked under him, 
moaning in pleasure, her buttocks swaying and writhing 
erotically against his. Her soft breasts giggled back and forth. 
Michael reached forward tweaking his fingers across her rigid 
nipples. Jean groaned, whimpering in unmistakable pleasure. 
They screwed slowly and unhurriedly, like lovers do, in no 
visible anxiety about time or being caught at it. His buttocks 
flexed and unflexed and his hips swung back and forth and his 
cock glided smoothly in and out of her, emerging and 
disappearing between her buttocks. 
 "So tell me, Jean," he said. "When did you first think of doing 
this?" 
 "Later, Michael," she gasped thickly, rocking and swaying 
passionately under him. 
 "Come on, tell me." 
 "What, damn it? Tell you what?" 
 "How you got to be such a lover. Who you first screwed. When. 
And after him, who. All of it." 
 She gasped. "Not now." 
 "Now." 
 "You're being mean," she hissed. 
 "Tell me, Jean, or I'm gonna walk out of here and tell the world 
about your husband's little pecker" the stranger sneered. 
 "Your mean," she snarled over her shoulder at him, her face red 
with exertion. "Don't you dare hurt Rick" 
 "Oh, his name's Rick is it? Rick the wimp." Michael jeered and 
for emphasis rocked his cock harder into her.  He held her hard 
by the waist, keeping her pinned. 
 I noticed that she made no attempt to break free, just kept 
rocking back and forth along his shaft. Her breasts wobbled and 
swung. 
 "Listen, Michael," she said softly between strokes. "I love that 
man. I love him with all my heart." 
 "Balls." 
 "It's the truth.  I've never had a friend who's. also a lover. 
or the other way around." 
"Look at you. I'm not a friend. You're screwing me and obviously 
loving it, and you love me." He said as he push into her hard and 
held it there.
 "No, that's where you're wrong, it's not you that I love. It's your 
cock and your body." 
 "And Rick, tell me you like fucking him, too. Tell me he's good 
in bed." 
 "He is. He's fantastic." 
 "Balls." he said as he resumed pumping into and out of my wife.
 "He's kind.  and decent. and gentle. and he loves me." 
 "Yeah, I believe you," the man chuckled, completely 
unperturbed and arrogant. "Explains why you asked me here to 
your bed. Yep, whatever you say; that makes a whole load of 
sense." 
 Laughing in disbelief, he continued fucking her unhurriedly. His 
hips slid forward, his cock squeezed into her body; he paused, 
then slowly withdrew, and paused again. Holding her waist, his 
buttocks flexing and unflexing alternately with his thrusts, the 
stranger slowly fucked my wife. 
She whimpered softly, writhing in unfaked pleasure under him, 
her body lurching and rocking back and forth on her forearms 
and knees. 
 Slowly, he built up speed. His motions grew faster and his 
thrusts went in deeper. Jean gasped and cried out, jerking forward 
under his lunges. Faster and faster he went, his hips swinging 
rapidly. Holding her hips, he rammed into her. Jean cried out 
loudly as he plunged deep into her. 
 "Ohhhhhh.  Unhhh yes!.  Ohhh yes. yes. yes.  Ohhh 
fuck yes!." she cried. 
 "Feels great!  Man, you're a great fuck!" he gasped, moving at a 
furious speed. 
 He slammed his hips back and forth, pummeling her buttocks 
with his thighs. His thighs smacked loudly against her flesh. She 
gasped and cried out, jerking and rocking under his thrusts. Her 
breasts shook violently. His cock pistoned and plunged furiously 
in and out of her cunt. His buttocks flexed and unflexed 
powerfully and his hips swung back and forth, up and down, like 
a trip-hammer at full blast, driving his rampant penis deeply in 
and out of her flesh. I noticed that he was in complete control and 
envied his skill. 
 Suddenly, just as my wife was on the verge of an orgasm, he slid 
out of her. She gasped and reached back for his cock, trying to 
restore it. 
 "No!" she cried. "Don't stop now!" 
 He laughed and slapped her buttocks gently. "I want to try your 
butt Hon. Give me some cream." 
 "It's on the dresser." Jean moaned softly and bent steeply 
forward in a ready pose so that her shoulders were on the bed, her 
buttocks and hips lifted high. Her face was turned to the windows 
where I stood. 
 The stranger strolled to the dresser and selected a plastic bottle 
of lotion. Flipping open the cap, he tipped some into his palm and 
anointed his cock luxuriously, stroking it with pleasure. His penis 
glistened and gleamed. Taking some more, he parted her buttocks 
and massaged her anus and then pressed a fingertip into her 
asshole. 
Jean gasped and lurched forward. He wriggled his finger in and 
out of her anus, laughing at her reaction. 
 "Come on. Say you want it." 
 "Yes," she whimpered. 
 He was behind her again, his cockhead pressed between her 
buttocks, at her anus. He paused and grinned. 
 "Can't hear you" he said. "Louder." 
 "Please - Michael!" 
 "That's it. Beg!" 
 "Please, Michael - I want it! Please - please do it!" 
 I watched teary-eyed. This was fantasy come to life. I had long 
harbored a secret desire to do my wife's behind, but feared an 
outright rejection at best, or, worse still, being labeled as 
depraved.
A special foot note here: understand that it was not until much 
later that Jean revealed to me that she had been 'working out' with 
more than just weights ever since she started noticing the large 
bulges at the gym; yes my innocent wife had gone and purchased 
a very large dildo / vibrator for times when I was at work or away 
on the road. But remember, I didn't know any of this at the time.
To my shock, watching them, I found I had a massive erection. I 
unzipped my fly and started masturbating slowly. 
 On the bed, Jean twisted her body and gripped Michael's 
protruding shaft in one hand. He laughed down at her and held 
her hips. 
 "Set?" he asked softly. 
 "Sure" she whispered somewhat unconvincingly. 
 Michael flexed his buttocks. His cock slid between her fingers 
and the cleft between her buttocks. Her head jerked upward and 
her face contorted in a violent spasm. Her mouth tore open and a 
soft shriek erupted from her throat. Michael gasped, his mouth 
falling open, his body taut and quivering with tension. He buttock 
flexed slightly again and Jean's chest heaved and she cried out, in 
sobbing, shuddering gasps. Her long neck was arched and 
tendons stood out in her throat. Her arm was rigid with tension, 
and her fingers tightened on his cock. Her thighs tensed. 
 I watched in mounting disbelief and excitement. Michael waited; 
obviously, he had done this before, and knew what to do. He held 
still. Beneath him, Jean's ragged breathing gradually steadied. 
She began jerking his cock slowly, gently. 
 "Come on," she gasped. "Come on!" 
 The stranger groaned and slowly flexed his buttocks and eased 
his hips forward. His penis slipped between her fingers and into 
her rear channel. She gasped again, and now it was a cry of lust. 
 "Yes! Oh fuck yes! Ohhhhhhh unhhhhh yes! Do it, lover! Fuck 
my butt!" 
 Inexorably, over the next few minutes, his cock vanished into 
my wife. She held it till the very last, till her hand was pinned 
between him and her buttocks. Then, slowly, hissing in pleasure, 
she released it. Her hand slid up her body and she squeezed her 
breast. 
Her body writhed and swayed in pleasure on the bed. Her face 
was radiant with pleasure. Her buttocks squirmed against his 
thighs. 
 "Oh fuck that feels so good, Michael," she moaned. 
 "Yes," she moaned. "Oh god yes! I want it!" 
 I watched in horrified fascination as the stranger sodomised my 
wife. He fucked her ass slowly and in no apparent hurry, savoring 
her delights to the full. His buttocks flexed and unflexed and his 
hips rocked gently back and forth. His cock went in and out of 
her anus, appearing and disappearing as though extruded from 
her flesh, then drawn in again. Jean's face twisted with 
excitement and lust and she whimpered, her shoulders on the bed, 
her face turned to one side, facing me, her eyes closed, and her 
body rocked and swung back and forth under his thrusts. 
The sight of Michael's hard, glistening penis sliding in and out of 
my wife's butt transfixed me. She moaned her pleasure and he 
began to move slightly faster, holding her buttocks and hips, 
squeezing her soft flesh eagerly as he pushed and forced his 
swollen cock into her. 
He thrust a hand under her belly and fingered her slit. Jean 
moaned and orgasmed violently, her body shuddering and 
trembling. The stranger groaned in delight and slowly skewered 
her ass deeply, once, twice, three, four, five times. Each thrust 
drew an undulating moan from her throat. He gasped in response. 
Finally, gasping, he pulled slowly out of her and, jerking his cock 
in his fist, he came copiously onto her back. Then, groaning, he 
pushed his still ejaculating cock back into her vagina and fucked 
her for a few more minutes while slowly massaging his spent 
cum into her back, shoulders and breasts. 
 They behaved like lovers, as if it was their honeymoon. I 
watched as the man finally back away and flung himself into our 
armchair and lit a cigarette. On the bed, Jean lay on her front, 
whimpering and gasping, her chest heaving. Slowly, she turned 
her face to him. 
 "Hey, Mike." 
 "What." 
 "You're not done yet, are you?" 
 He chuckled. "What do you think?" 
 "So fuck me." 
 "Come and make me." 
 "Tell me what you'd like." Jean turned on her side to face him. 
"Shall I masturbate for you?" 
 "With a dildo?" 
 "If you like." 
 "You have one?" 
 She laughed. "Part of the new me. I don't leave home without it. 
It's the first drawer, there, a blue travelling pouch. Will you get 
it?" 
 "Nah, forget it. Prefer the real thing. C'mere and suck my cock." 
 Jean rolled out of bed with a delighted smile and walked across 
to him. He grinned at her. I moaned to myself, my fist sticky with 
jizz as I took in the sight of her superbly curved, slender, dusky 
body swaying across the room, her breasts bouncing, her buttocks 
rippling smoothly and strongly. I remembered her reaction when 
the stranger pushed his cock between them and into her anus and 
was filled with a desire to emulate him. I watched, now numb to 
the trauma, alive only to the sexual debauchery being played out 
before me. 
 Michael grinned wolfishly as she came up to him. He sat, 
smoking, one leg drawn up, the heel on the seat of the chair, the 
other flung casually over the arm. He put out his cigarette as she 
came to him. Standing before him, she bent forward and they 
kissed. He cupped her breasts and fondled them gently.  Her 
hands got busy in his groin, stroking his cock deftly. 
 They broke the kiss and Jean bent her head and sucked and 
licked his nipples. Slowly, she dragged her tongue down his 
body, slipping to her knees. Finally, her head bent over his crotch 
and her tongue snaked out and coiled around his cock-head. 
 "Mm, tastes good," she murmured, smiling lovingly as she 
licked his penis, "I love this." 
 "What?" 
 "Sucking a big cock." 
 He grinned and gripped her head, pushing it down onto his 
penis. 
 "C'mon! Gimme head!" he grunted. 
 Jean fondled his penis lovingly, masturbating him with an 
amazing deftness. His penis throbbed and stirred and began to 
swell. She licked it gently, steadily, and then her lips parted and 
slipped about the cock-head. He grunted and grinned and moved 
her head up and down. She sucked his cock steadily, then faster 
and faster. His erection ballooned in her mouth. Rising, she 
squeezed her breasts in a sheath around it and masturbated him 
briefly with her sticky breasts before resuming sucking his cock. 
 "Mm, yeh - suck it - suck it good," he murmured. "Mm - yeh - 
that's it - suck it" 
 Jean whimpered deep in her throat; obviously, she enjoyed 
sucking this guy's cock. She caressed her breasts and her hand 
slid into her crotch and she masturbated quietly. After several 
minutes, the man pushed her head away. 
 "Okay time to make love again you sex goddess" he chuckled. 
"Come on beautiful. Damn you're gorgeous" 
 Jean got to her feet and, turning around, straddled his lap. He 
slouched low in the chair, his huge penis pointing upward. She 
reached down and, taking it delicately in her hand, guided to her 
cunt. I saw her pause, her palm along the shaft, her fingertips 
against his balls, his cock-head at her cunt-lips; then she drew in 
her breath and her hips sank and her cunt slipped down on his 
cock-head, running smoothly and rapidly and easily, so that his 
cock disappeared into her like a knife into butter. 
 "Ohhhhh yes!" 
 Jean gasped loudly, her head rising, her mouth fluttering open. 
Her belly rippled in and she grimaced in pleasure. Still holding 
the shaft, she moved lower still, and lower yet. His cock 
disappeared into her belly. She moaned thickly, her head arched, 
her belly sucked in, her hips squirming and writhing in pleasure 
on his lap. He caressed her back gently, his hands gliding up and 
down her smooth, soft flesh, moving around to fondle her breasts. 
She hissed softly as he squeezed the swollen mounds in his hands 
and pinched her nipples. She cupped and squeezed his balls 
gently. 
 "Oh fuck, that feels so good, Mikey," she murmured and leaned 
back against his chest, turning her face to his.  He kissed her 
deeply, thrusting his tongue deep into her mouth. Their lips 
parted and their tongues fenced openly against each other. He 
caressed her cock-filled vagina and she moaned softly, one arm 
looped over his head. His hands roamed over her torso, playing 
with her breasts, caressing her belly. 
Slowly, she straightened. Her hips began to move, gyrating in 
tight, erotic circles on his lap. She groaned and her back arched 
slowly. Her hips swirled slowly round and round, her buttocks 
flexing and squeezing over his cock. She hissed softly and her 
hips rose, still circling and undulating, then spiraled slowly down 
again. Her mouth fluttered open and she leaned forward, her 
shoulders hunched, with her hands on his knees. 
Slowly, she began to rock up and down on his cock, sliding 
herself up and down the length of his shaft. Her belly rippled 
inward and she arched her back, hissing in pleasure as she ground 
down deep on his cock. She paused, his cock half in her and 
flexed her buttocks rapidly together, squeezing his cock inside 
her. He gasped under her and arched his hips; his cock reared into 
her cunt and she moaned in delight. 
 "Oh god yes!" she cried. 
 "Come on! Come on! Do it!" he groaned, his face flushed with 
lust, his mouth hanging open, panting. 
 Whimpering and moaning her pleasure, Jean began rocking up 
and down on the stranger's huge penis. Her breasts jumped and 
bounced with her motions. 
Gasping and crying out lewdly, she moved faster and faster. Her 
buttocks caromed off his thighs. She squeezed his balls in 
excitement. 
Her palm, fingers spread-eagled, lay flat on her belly as she 
suddenly ground her hips round in tight, jerky circles. Hissing his 
pleasure, she dragged her hand up her body, crushing her breasts. 
 "Oh yes.  Mike, yes!." she moaned. "Oh fuck. I love your 
cock!. Ohhhh yes!. Ohhh fuck yes!." 
 Holding her waist, he moved her up and down on his cock, 
pumping his hips beneath her. His penis went in and out of her 
flesh; her vagina slithered along the length of his shaft. Leaning 
forward, her breasts in both hands, her mouth open in a wide 'O', 
the stranger rocked Jean faster and faster up and down on his 
cock. He jerked her down savagely onto his lance with rising 
urgency, forcing choking cries from her throat.
Just as my wife was starting her `O', he stopped abruptly. 
Gasping and panting, her chest heaving, my wife rose off his 
cock. He slid out of the chair and lay on the carpeted floor on his 
back, his head to the windows where I stood, watching numbly. 
 Jean straddled her lover's hips and quickly moved his cock into 
her body. She gasped as she slipped down and engulfed his penis. 
 "Mm," she said, rocking slowly back and forth on her knees. 
"That's good. Very good. Tell me you like it, Michael. Tell me 
what it feels like." 
 "Great," he snickered. "Nice tight cunt you've got" 
 "Can you feel it? Can you feel it squeezing your cock?" 
 "Oh fuck, yes!" 
 "Does it feel good? Tell me, Michael!" 
 "Feels great! Just great!" 
 He slid his hands up her body and fondled her breasts. Jean 
arched her back and moaned. He moved his hips round and round 
and up and down under her. She whimpered in pleasure, writhing 
on his hips. Smiling down at him, she paused to coil her long hair 
in a knot high on the back of her head, exposing the superb line 
of her neck. Then she bent over him and kissed him deeply. 
He squeezed her buttocks. She writhed over him and arched 
back, sending one hand behind her body to squeeze his balls, the 
other was locked behind his head pulling him strongly to her 
mouth. Even through the kiss, she hissed and moaned loudly. Her 
eyes were wide open and she was looking straight at me; yet 
there was no hint of recognition, or acknowledgment of my 
presence. I stared at her silently, but cringed in the fact that she 
knew I was there. 
 They fucked in this exact position for several minutes, moving 
faster and faster. She was clearly trying to get him to come, the 
whole time looking at me. Her breasts jumped and shook and her 
moans rang out loud and clear. Then they stopped again. He got 
to his feet and she sucked his cock for some time. On the bed, she 
lay on her back and he moved up over her, between her legs. She 
spread her legs wide and guided him into her. He flexed his 
buttocks and his cock dipped into her flesh and vanished slowly 
inward as his hips swung forward and down. 
Jean arched under him, moaning loudly, her face radiant with 
beauty. She clenched his thick biceps, caressed his hard, 
muscular torso and fondled his taut buttocks. He began to move, 
fucking her slowly and unhurriedly, sliding his hips gently back 
and forth, stroking his cock in and out of her body. She 
murmured in pleasure, rocking and jerking under him, kissing 
him lasciviously. Craning her head, she sucked and licked his 
nipples, her hands caressing his hard back. 
 "Michael." 
 "What." 
 "You really want to know?" 
 "What?" 
 "About me. About my lovers" 
 He grinned and kissed her. "You want to tell me, tell me." 
 "I want to tell you." 
 "So talk." 
 She kissed him hungrily. "Just don't stop fucking me." 
 "Not a chance." 
 She smiled and her head fell back and she murmured in pleasure. 
"I had my first affair when I was sixteen. We had this very sexy 
foreign exchange student, Philipe, at our house. One day, I 
skipped school and came home, because I knew everyone else 
would be out except him. He was alone." 
 "How old was he?" 
 "Oh, twenty-four and very sexy. Tall and handsome and dark, 
with a great muscular body. I used to dream like crazy about him. 
Anyway, I got home and he was there, so I took off my 
underclothes and went to him in my school uniform, all the 
buttons undone. He understood what I had in mind and he was 
hot as hell. He fucked me first in the kitchen, slowly and gently 
and that orgasm blew my mind. I couldn't believe how fantastic it 
was. I got him to fuck me again, in the bedroom, from behind. 
Then one more time with me on top." 
 "Crazy. At sixteen!" 
 "Yes. We continued this for a long time, several months. Don't' 
know how my parents and fiance never knew.  Anyway, it must 
have been my Catholic upbringing, but I started to feel guilty and 
actually managed to save myself from then until marriage.." 
 She paused and he kissed her, still rocking rhythmically in and 
out of her cunt, a master in complete control. He licked and 
sucked on her nipples gently and she murmured softly. 
"Unfortunately, it was great, because he was very large like you.  
But I had managed to not really think about it until the old sex 
life trailed off to next to nothing and you know the rest of the 
story." 
Michael laughed softly. "That's quite a story. But it's not 
complete." 
 "What else?" 
 "Why you got married." he said as he started to pick up the 
relaxed pace.
 Jean smiled gently and luxuriantly and stretched her body, 
arching pleasurably under him, kissing him, fondling his 
muscular physique. Her hips moved gently under his, pumping 
rhythmically up and down. He stroked longer and faster in and 
out of her. She licked his nipple lasciviously. 
 "Because, my darling...  I needed to. I wanted a friend. a real 
friend and that's it." 
 "So why him?" 
 "Because he asked. Because I liked what I saw. He's 
generous, hardworking. uhhhh. sincere, faithful." 
 "You think he'll be the same when he finds out about this." 
 "He already knows." 
 "Bullshit." 
 "Believe me. He knows." 
 "And you don't think he'll mind?" 
 "No. I know he won't." 
 "How can you be so sure?" 
 "Because I've slept with him. Made love to him. When a man 
makes love. his soul is open... I know He'll understand. He'll 
accept... We'll make this marriage work. God your cock feels 
great right now."
 "Doesn't look like it from where I'm sittin'; you're too damn 
good at making love to me for me to believe that.  You know 
what they say 'once you've tried larger, you can never go back"  
It was clear the talk and faster pumping were really getting to my 
wife as she started to moan loudly with each of his long slow 
deep thrusts into her.  He was literally forcing her towards 
another orgasm.  
He then grabbed and pulled her knees up and told her to hold 
them as he started to use the extra leverage to pump as deeply as 
possible in her.  After starting to French kiss my wife he gave a 
few very faster, very deep thrusts and then held himself in her as 
far as possible and proceeded to very sensuously shoot his seed 
into her with very obvious, hard jerks.  His tongue was deep in 
her mouth and her nails were digging into his butt cheeks hard.  
Finally after about a minute of unloading, he slowly raised his 
head and said "From what you've told me, it'd be a long way back 
to Rick's short little pecker"
Jean was totally aroused, and on the edge again.  She looked very 
confused, but finally replied, "Sex isn't going to be the thing 
that'll keep us together." 
 "But it'll drive you apart." 
 "No. We'll be together despite my fornicating." 
 "So you intend to continue." 
 "Yes." 
 "What if he says no?" 
 "He won't." 
 "Lucky you." 
 "Not just me, darling," she murmured, smiling. "Lucky you. 
Now come on, Michael, you've driven me crazy by holding me 
on the edge all night.  Fuck me! Fuck me hard! I want us to 
practice orgasming together few more times!" 
At this revelation, I'd had enough and turned away.  As I was 
walking back to the car I could actually hear my wife starting to 
get off; shit how could this guy stay so damn hard so long was all 
I could think about as I started up the car and headed to the 
nearest hotel for the night.
Well that's my story.  When I got back the next day he was gone, 
everything was cleaned up and my wife was bright, cheery and 
very nice to me.  It was as thought nothing had happened.  Now 
it's been a month.  I've been quit moody but Jean continues to be 
very good, actually much much better than `before'.  She is 
totally into working out - goes there every day.  I have not had 
the nerve to bring this stuff up for two reasons, one is I don't 
want to look jealous and the other is because somehow thinking 
about it actually excites me which very much confuses me.  
There are day's when all I want is for it to happen again and there 
are days when I regret it ever did happen.  Fortunately, the 
former are getting less and less.
..................
So girls what do you think?  This is Jean again. Wanted to add 
some commentary for your assistance.  The points are not in any 
real order, just some background you might find helpful in your 
own planning.
- What really got this whole thing going was our lack of sex. 
The result was that I started to notice other men, something I 
NEVER would have imagined myself doing.  After a while I 
would pick one or two and use them in fantasies.  It took 
about half a year of this before I subtly offered the topless 
beach idea to Rick; there was a lot of thinking behind that 
suggestion.
- It's VERY important that your husband be watching the first 
time you and your new lover make love.  What makes the 
experience so amazing, in my opinion, is this fact - that your 
marriage partner is `forced' to watch you make mad 
passionate love to a superior lover - this is the key to what 
puts the experience beyond what you normally would 
imagine.
- Make sure you reveal some `new' things about yourself to 
your new lover as your husband listens on.  Philipe was a 
complete fabrication but I knew it would go straight to Rick's 
head. Can you believe it, he hasn't even asked me about it!
- Go slow and easy with your new lover.  You need to make it 
look like you two were meant to be, not just physically, but 
also personally, so use a lot of talk and cuddling.
- Definitely kiss your lover at the most climatic moments.  This 
one is for yourself, it really, really serves to bond you away 
from you husband and to your new lover - with it you will 
find the transition remarkable easy and natural.  This was a 
hard step for me so I started kissing Michael hello and good 
bye months before at the gym and it solved the problem.
- Make sure you husband can get the best views of what you do 
and look at him, teasingly I might add, when the times are 
right.  Even me sticking my tongue out at Rick while dancing 
was designed to get him `thinking'.
- Work the physiology, but be VERY subtle!  You have to get 
your mate's subconscience to start working the image of 
others seeing you naked and lusting after you.  If he's like 
Rick, he will have large jealousy and anger issues even 
though he will NEVER admit them.  Bring them forward 
slowly with small seemingly harmless suggestions and 
innuendoes; the camera, the web pictures (arranged ahead of 
time), the Frisbee, the oil - all premeditated.
- You MUST do new things with your lover as your husband 
watches - use your imagination or search the internet for ideas 
like I did.  And practice if you have to.  Like me, you will 
probably have to get a large dildo / vibrator and go for longer 
and longer stretches (pun) of time.
- Little white lies are okay; they do no harm and what your 
husband doesn't know won't hurt him.  But big ones are NOT 
acceptable - I HAD TO GET HIS PERMISSION.  And now 
that I have it, yes, my daily `workouts' are exactly what you 
think. Actually, I insist that we do pump weights for a good 
45 minutes each time, but for the remaining 3-4 hours, 
Michael gets to pump yours truly.
- I have to mention this again, be very patient and very very 
subtle.  This literally took 2 years. I've become convinced that 
even though a lot of married men have this fantasy, actually 
getting them to go through with it requires VERY SPECIAL 
HANDLIING.
- This is THE MOST IMPORTANT POINT, especially for all 
you innocent wives like I was who never slept with anyone 
but your husband.  Make sure you find the right man!!!  Most 
important, believe it or not (you must try it to know) is penis 
size, followed closely by physical chemistry and then 
personality.  I had gotten to know Michael from the club (a 
great place to scope men) and flirted with him a long time 
before I dropped the `asked me if I was single' story on Rick.  
Michael had actually done that months prior to that day.
- Don't tell your lover your husband is watching.  This will 
make his performance somewhat artificial.  Do answer his 
every question about your husband and do compare him 
favorably to your husband, especially while making love; this 
will greatly enhance his sexual prowess and also serves to 
lock into your husband the proper mindset.
- After the first time, give your husband time by acting as 
though nothing happened and being extra nice, but definitely 
keep seeing your new man as often as possible - provided 
he's the one, you need to lock his mindset (and feelings) in 
also.
- Abstain from sex of any kind with your husband, this 
shouldn't be hard, remember your seeing your new lover as 
often as possible anyway.  This one serves to lock your own 
mindset in.  Besides you can claim you weren't doing it 
hardly at all before anyway.
- After a while, when you start to detect your husband starting 
to `know' his place and act more comfortable, spring another 
evening or weekend on him.  But this time he doesn't get to 
see anything, just set his mind in motion and take off.
- After you get back he'll be ready to talk, BE FIRM!!!
If all goes well, in the end you will be livin' the vita loca, having 
your cake and eating it too.  You will have the best of both 
worlds!  
Good luck girls and let me know!
Sincerely,
Jean

