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Surprise for My Wife

by Gary

07/10/2016 11:34 in cuckold

If an account of my wife and friend annoys you, stop now.


Last winter my workplace abruptly closed after a blizzard alert, canceling my three day shift. My wife, Lieb, had my car to be serviced at a shop near her office, so I rode home with a co-worker. She wasn't home yet, so I grabbed a drill and ambled to the basement to finish cabling our new media room but succumbed to a catnap.

I heard her get home but snoozed until the chime of a text woke me. It was from her much older half-brother, Dwayne, simply stating he was headed to Florida. He'd vanished years ago, and mysteriously returned the day before, pleading to visit his mother. I took him to the elder home and left them for a private reunion, but minutes later, security officers told me they'd physically separated them.

The old broad had sprung from her wheelchair to stab a knitting needle through his nose and violently chew his earlobe until her dentures fell out, after he pushed aggressively for cash. My last knowledge of him was holding a bloody handkerchief as he raced away, until that text.

The news would thrill Lieb, so I rushed upstairs. That, and the exciting storm holiday made me feel like a kid. I even stopped to unlock the door and glance at the snow fall, before rushing to the living room to see her sweater, bunched above her swaying breasts, with the thrusts of our friend, Ron, fucking her.

They hadn't heard me, and it was clear news of Dwayne wouldn't matter much to her, or our longtime friend, at the moment. She was softly uttering a constant rhythmical whimper, occasionally interrupted when a strategic probe forced a cry of "Oh" or "Unh," registered her approval.

The random clap of flesh meeting was punctuated by moans akin to praise. She might just as well have said "Giddy-up, go!" or "Yes! Do it you mother-fucker."

Whatever, she was into it and the thrill of voyeurism began to override my shock. Even though it was my wife and friend fucking, secretly watching them have sex made my stomach feel like a litter of tail-wagging puppies were jumping joyously in it.

Lieb and I had basically matured together over the years, often bitching, sometimes hating, but we always supported and relied upon each other. She had smoothed my rough edges, while I buffered her from those who would take advantage of her trusting nature, like her selfish family.

Marriage was a good deal for both of us, and we would do harm on each other's behalf, but it was plain she wasn't under duress with Ron. She was giving it back as good as she was getting it from him wedged firmly between her yielding thighs.

I made a weak attempt to leave, but the rhythmic tempo of the creaking sofa, ticking as the lovers meshed slowly back-and-forth, was too hypnotic. So, I stood planted, focusing on my wife's adultery as she hooked her feet over the back of his knees, securing their semi-nude bodies even tighter together. Firmly joined, they resumed humping, oblivious to everything except their lust.

Ron was forty, about six feet and one-ninety, with an ever-so-slight olive complexion, wavy dark hair and hazel eyes. When I first introduced them at a pool party years earlier, Lieb said he was so well groomed, scrubbed, and athletic, she thought he was years younger. I saw he hadn't aged much since we last saw him a year ago.

Looking down on him from behind as the thick muscles of his smooth ass repeatedly clenched as he flexed into her, I agreed, he looked athletic. He had a slender, well toned ass, a gift from years of swimming, and pivoted into her with a springy suppleness.

I was abruptly distracted when I spotted her sheer, lace panties tangled at his feet. Except for the rare lace border on budget Sears lingerie, my adamantly practical wife never wore anything like them near me. Seeing them, I knew she had expected this day. Somewhat absurdly, the panties grated on my nerves until a few exceptionally solid thrusts made her gasp, "Yes. Yes." to regain my attention.

My wife could have disheartened me with any number of potential suitors. Ron wasn't one of them. I told her once, he'd be a good partner if she had the urge. I found the idea so agreeable that at a beach party, after seeing she was unruffled by him covering his erection while talking with him, that I suggested she let his flirting advance. She immediately replied, "Never. He's married." Her tone was absolute, but I still tried several times without success, so the idea faded, until this.

My eye wandered to his knees pressing into the seat cushion to repeatedly push himself between her raised soft thighs. Her feet had shifted from the back of his legs, closer to his buttocks, to allow better passage of his hard cock buffeting her ass into the sofa. Her knitted stockings flexed apart with his thrusts.

Between his parted legs I saw his ample testicles had contracted close to the hard shaft, and ended each stroke against her stretched pink seam. In contrast to the long fluid strokes I first witnessed, it was evident that their arousal was causing him to press with shorter, deep jabs.

Her delicate right hand held his shoulder, and the other - with her wedding bands - clutched a fistful of his smooth ass, as she bumped her hips up in sync to engulf the shaft plunging into her. Nothing my wife did was familiar to me. Her groans, sighs, and hands were alien to what I experienced. Her legs moved aggressively, and with power against his energetic thrusts. She was a different woman with his cock lodged in her, and more desirable than ever.

Their complete distraction gave me the nerve to creep to a few steps from their feet. Ron's cock shimmered with moisture as it pulled slightly from her cunt, then vanished with a muffled slap and feminine sigh. Their heat was radiant on my face, and the faint, pure, musky scent of my wife's seeping wetness rose to me.

When she began to stiffly arch, trembling, he pumped quickly and gasped with three solid jolts, "Is... this... right?"

Lieb gasped, "Oh!... Ye..." but was silenced by a door flung open and shout from the kitchen.

"Hellooooo! Where are youuuu? It's me, Dwayne."

I had once felt a similar terror in an impending head-on-crash but this was worse. He called again. "Where are youuuu? It's me."

My wife saw me instantly at the sound of the door and furiously wriggled strenuously beneath Ron until he perceived it wasn't her unbridled orgasm causing her to wildly twist under him. They parted so hastily the milky fluid spurting from his rigid cock continued, arching in unguided flight as they struggled to sit upright.

Coarse threads of semen sparkled across Lieb's dark pubic hair, and the wet errant eruptions were smeared into a slick, stringy coating, glistening between her rosy inner thighs. Her quick movement forced a trickle of sperm from her cunt which she instinctively covered with her hand.

In spite of the excitement, he stayed erect, still moist with the froth of my wife's juices and continued to ooze pearly lustrous fluid as they froze, terrified, with eyes locked on me.

Ron's nearly inaudible whisper summarized everything. "Oh fuck."

My wife's shocked eyes began to pool with tears and the sight of her sudden vulnerability filled me with blinding rage toward the intrusion. That an invader was jeopardizing the sanctity of her most intimate behavior a few rooms away, in her home, infuriated me. In an instant, I took control.

Finger to lips, I fiercely gestured to remain silent before calmly answering, "Dwayne, I'll be right there." Then, pointing at the vestibule to the second floor stairs I faintly whispered. "Quiet! Hide there."

They faltered a moment until hearing Dwayne's steps in the kitchen, then darted from sight as I kicked clothes under the sofa. Her panties and his tie stubbornly clung to my shoe, so I stuffed them deep in my pocket. I narrowly intercepted him short of the doorway and asked icily, "What are you doing here? Why didn't you ring the doorbell?"

He looked at me wide-eyed, then stared at the floor mumbling he wanted to say goodbye before leaving as he backed-up toward the kitchen. Stopping, he said he thought he would mend his relationship with his sister.

I knew better, but I was finally convinced he discovered nothing and the relief flowed through me, alleviating my concern. Livid anger replaced it, and he paled and quickly backed to the door. I didn't mention he left his phone on the counter.

I admired the job the old lady did on his nostrils and ear, both a bright crimson and heavily swollen, with nasty looking, bloody scabs. Standing in the freezing wind as the snowfall increased would cause it to hurt like a bitch when it warmed, so I directed the little asshole outside and delayed him until his eyes watered and he pleaded he should leave before the blizzard blocked the roads. I let him.

Confident my wife's secret was safe from betrayal, I breathed a short moment of relief as a flood of gratitude swept through me that I had been there to intercede for her. I realized she was devastated by the sudden cataclysm, and unsure of what was happening, so I took deep, calming breaths as I rushed to the empty living room.

It struck me that I was only mad at Dwayne, not them, and they were cowering with fear at my approach, so I called them with a tone as relaxed as I could muster. "He's gone. He's on his way home. I hope the little prick slams into a ditch. Come and get your clothes."

I heard them stir cautiously, so I continued. "The little son-of-a-bitch is lucky. In this state I could have ended his existence without a problem for entering the way he did." I paused a moment then added, "Come out and get dressed. You're safe. He's clueless. He didn't see you. He didn't hear you. He doesn't know what you were doing. He doesn't even know you were here. There's no problems."

Lieb's pale face sheepishly peeked from the safety of the vestibule and I pointed. "Your clothes are under the sofa."

She was totally disheveled and had had no chance to tidy herself. Her hair was aflutter, and lipstick smeared across her slightly puffy lips. Mascara was streaked by a teardrop on one eye and her bare thighs had red streaks from Ron's strong grip.

Watching her cautiously shuffle, with knees tightly together toward the sofa, I continued, "He didn't see or hear anything but had some bullshit about wanting to patch things with you, but I don't believe him." I saw by her arched eyebrows she was skeptical too.

Still silent, she tentatively reached the sofa while modestly stretching her sweater to cover her pussy and the film of semen Ron had misguidedly coated it with, and when she knelt to grab her clothes, released it to recoil back like a slingshot and expose the wet slit that had been filled with churning cock minutes earlier.

The outer folds were still swollen and scarlet from the friction of Ron's hard dick reaming it, and his errant release now matted her sparse pubic curls. Her pale buttocks were ruddy from being energetically pounded into the sofa, and the sweet hormonal scent of freshly churned cunt lingered.

Her skirt was on in a flash and I wished I had kicked everything in different directions while watching her coyly search for her panties. I felt smug knowing where they were as I saw it was important to her to find them.

Ron, even more frightened, followed very warily with his shirt covering his penis, which I noted earlier, was super-shrunk as they scooted past me to hide. The strong fresh scent of his semen followed him, and he was oblivious to the dark stains spread over his shirttail when Lieb dislodged his ejaculating cock from her cunt.

My wife would have most certainly laundered it immediately before it dried, if mine, but I'm sure that wasn't a concern at the moment. As he clumsily pulled his briefs and pants on, I stared at the spots of semen on the knitted throw and realized he had dropped quite a load in spite of the calamity. Putting on his shoes he broke the awkward silence. "This is my fault Jim. I took advantage of a friendship and am responsible for this."

Unaware of the globs of his jizz staining the throw - which would normally be rinsed and into the washer by now - my wife nervously fidgeted straightening her skirt and sweater.

Neither of them knew how long I watched them, and I had seen how enthusiastically she was into it, fucking him with abandon, her face glowing blissfully with each jab of the flesh. I reasoned the only thing he was responsible for was giving her a solid boning, with her full encouragement and consent, and possibly, by her seduction. He was taking the fall without hesitation and I was impressed with his chivalry and frankly, knew he was that type of man.

I grinned and started to contradict him, by mentioning her panties purpose as I pulled them and his tie from my pocket, but suddenly Lieb interrupted as she discovered the semen stains on the throw, and in a flurry, yanked it violently from the sofa, and shouted, "It's not his fault... please, put the gun down!"

They had the same scared expression as Dwayne. They winced as I raised my hand and saw in the shadows, the gunmetal-gray pistol grip and round black attachment of the cordless drill still in my hand. I never thought about before, but it did look like a gun - a rather big one.

I lifted it toward them, "I was going to install cable in the media room, but fell asleep." I squeezed the trigger so it's gears whirred a few times. "See... it screws, but not as good as you were." I squeezed it a few more for emphasis. They blushed in unison so I did it again. "Whir, whir." Then again. "Whir, whir whir."

Neither laughed, but they were relieved, especially Ron. Her eyes moistened so I babbled on so she wouldn't cry, which would've made me feel bad. "Work was canceled after you dropped me off. I got the text from Dwayne saying he was driving home, so I wanted to tell you the good news. Anyway, you haven't done anything wrong, or something I haven't."

I sensed it was the answer she needed and time to change the subject. I remembered his tie and with exaggerated slowness, freed it from my wife's panties. I handed it to Ron and asked, "We haven't heard from you in months, what have you been doing? Why didn't you answer our texts?"

Before he could answer Lieb suddenly reached for her panties but I quickly drew them away. "Mine." I gloated toward her.

She glared, but not defiantly as she usually would, so I added. "A memento of Dwayne. Call them my gallantry award. Maybe I'll even have them mounted... again... in a manner of speaking. Oops, a pun, excuse me."

I was the only one who laughed.

Ron finally answered me as he folded his tie and put it in his pocket. "Things were hectic. I got divorced several months ago, and just accepted a promotion and transfer back here last week."

Lieb cut in. "We ran into each other at the YMCA last week. I started telling you then but you weren't paying attention and running late for work."

Glancing toward her, I saw she had been using the mirror on the wall to tidy her appearance. The blemished makeup and lipstick was gone, and her hair was neater. The hard tips of her nipples beneath her sweater reminded me she wasn't wearing a bra and she looked so tempting, I sorely wanted to fuck her right then.

I sensed she knew what I wanted to as she stood erect, and for the first time, looked at me directly, in study. I wanted to yank her sweater off and pull her skirt high to delight in the evidence of their fornication, then to lovingly trace and kiss each reddened smudge and untidy detail before slipping my hard prick into her cunt, wet with their juices, and more.

The mood and conversation was abruptly interrupted by the phone, and the caller ID was from her mother's home so Lieb immediately answered. Within moments her face contorted with disbelief, surprise, and eventually bubbled with anger which would normally make me cringe and slink to a safe space. When she thanked the caller and hung up she said, "Dwayne stole checks and credit cards from Mom. They have it on tape but she refuses to press charges."

She simmered silently, then continued angrily, "Dwayne drove forty-five miles north, instead of south to come here, after stealing from his own mother. There are no cars are in the driveway because your car is in the shop, I parked in the garage, and Ron, on the street. He breaks through the door I know I locked, then calls out in case someone is home, because he can't see in our garage." Then she screamed, "That bastard was burglarizing us!"

I answered her. "I unlocked the door to check the storm when I came upstairs."

Suddenly Lieb rushed to the kitchen for her purse and dumped it on the counter to find her credit card case missing. In anguish she moaned, "Oh no! There's over one hundred thousand dollars of credit available on them. It was that bastard! I'm calling the police."

Ron cut in. "You shouldn't. Not yet. Later. I deal with this at work every day. He's got a ten minute start which is huge if he's experienced. First you have to report the stolen cards and checks so they can put stops on them. I do it commercially and use quicker methods. Give me your mother's and your card numbers and I'll report them and then you'll have to wait to get a freeze confirmation to protect your identity for each account, which could take a few hours."

Within a few minutes Lieb and I provided the information to him as he called his various contacts. After nearly an hour of numerous calls and transfers with Lieb aiding with email reports she finally notified the police.

As they made that final call I considered it a kind and unusual act of fate to have been home, but still wrestled with my feelings: Rage at Dwayne; Worry about the cards; Embarrassment at being found watching; But peculiarly, extreme excitement from watching my wife and friend fuck. Recalling her holding him as he thrust stiffened me, and I accepted I liked watching it a lot.

It may have been perverted to a degree, but I was a child of suffering and challenges, and if the gods had bestowed a rare indulgence upon me, who was I to protest.

Ron ended the last call and said, "I deal with thieves and scam artists every day, I can't guarantee anything so you'll just have to wait until you receive your confirmation numbers. Hopefully within a few hours." Then, apologized again, and left.

Lieb makes coffee when nervous and we drank plenty as we made polite small talk waiting for the calls while carefully avoiding what happened earlier. When the phone finally rang over two hours later, she practically jumped through the ceiling to answer it.

She listened carefully and looked sour as she hung up. "Mom's card was used at a pharmacy. Fortunately she isn't responsible for the charge since we reported it."

However, concern over the large line of available credit on our cards loomed large and the wait was stressful for us. An hour passed and another call came in when her mother's credit card was confiscated at an Urgent Medical Care facility and she was told the bearer had quickly fled before being treated. That was a small, but welcome consolation.

Finally, our credit freeze confirmation numbers began arriving and the weight finally lifted that our credit would not be compromised. Lieb was near tears in relief as she received the final notification, and so was I. I'm sure we were both silently thankful for Ron's help. I listened to her final rantings about the bastard when I remembered the shithead's phone and began thinking about pay-back.

I looked outside to see the blizzard raging in full force, then asked, "Where's my snow gear? I'm going to walk a few blocks and see an electronics guy about a phone I found."

As soon as she brought it to me she grabbed my arm and with a questioning gaze asked, "Are we going to be okay? Have I done something you can't forgive?"
I didn't pause. "Sure we're okay. I don't have any problem with it. Why not? You don't plan to clean out the bank and leave do you?"

Her hug was swift. "I thought so but I had to be positive." When we kissed I couldn't help wondering if she had sucked his cock. It would have been a shame to miss it and I'm sure she felt me harden as we embraced. Over three hours ago I saw a different woman fucking but now she was my wife again.

I was going to question her for some details leading up to the day's event, but she got on the phone to fill in her mother about the cards, so I left. When I got outside to see the gale force winds driving the blinding snow sideways I felt like a kid again as I trudged through it.

The old broad and I had one thing in common, I don't press charges either. Dimitri was a local businessman I was friends with, who lived above his custom computer shop and there was gossip he was a hacker so I was sure he could find a use for a phone with a password etched on its case. I suspect he felt it was a treasure chest when he cracked it to find credit card numbers and passwords.

I stopped the cable, phone and utilities service at a certain trailer in Florida, then gave the phone to Dimitri to use as he pleased. He was shouting happily on it in Russian as I left. I later heard the girls at Gentlemen Joe's had a banner night that evening.

On my way home the storm had grown to a severe blizzard and it was breathtaking, sweeping the street to expose bare black pavement interspersed by nearly five foot drifts which had blocked cars everywhere. One caught my eye and I knocked its window to find Ron. Once inside with him I saw he was soaked from snow and exhaustion trying to get unstuck. To top it off, his heater sucked. He never protested at the invitation to ride it out at our house.


When we got to the house the power was out and Lieb was taken by surprise when I led him into the house and told her he'd be riding it out with us so he wouldn't freeze to death in his car. She nodded silently in agreement and even in the candlelight I could see she wasn't upset by it.

Ron helped me get our generator running in the detached garage and run cords into the house. We soon had gas to cook and heat water, and power to run appliances and a heater in the media room. We were equipped with everything for a long storm except extra gasoline and Ron was quick to go and siphon it from his car.

When he left I finally had the chance to question Lieb, and she knew it was coming when I found her in the kitchen and asked, "How did this start?"

She was ready for that and softly answered, "After we met last week, we ran into each other the next day exercising at the "Y". I happened to mention I was meeting the girls from work that evening at a bar and he showed up. We caught up on things and had some fun, even a few dances, but I left when things started getting personal... I mean there was some attraction there."

"I'm sure. What then?"

"Remember two nights ago when I went to my boss's retirement party at the same place? Ron was there. The party ended early and I stayed talking a long time. When I left he walked me to the car and... and... I let him kiss me. I shouldn't have, but I did and it surprised me at how it felt. Not threatening, but flattering, something thrilling."

"Then what?"

Lieb was starting to hesitate answering, "We... we kissed again, maybe a few more times." Then trailed off.

"Did he touch you? You know..."

She answered nervously, "A few times, but then I stopped it and came home. That was it."

"You remember when I once told you he would be a good choice? He's probably an even better one now. Seriously, so you know Honey."

"I've become so self-conscious, I'm blushing and embarrassed. I can't believe I did it, but he's always been so thoughtful and caring to us, like part of the family. He probably thinks I'm a slut."

I jumped on that. "No way Baby. Talking in his car he said he was honored by you, and disappointed in himself for taking advantage of you, when he apologized for the umpteenth time. It was very apparent he respects you. And by the way, he was a true gentleman and diplomatically skirted mentioning anything about you. Like I said years ago, he was a good choice."

Even in the dim light I could see she was soothed knowing that, and replied "That's good to hear. I hope I'm entitled to an occasional mistake without condemnation. And thank you too."

We hugged for a long time and I know she felt my hard cock pressed against her, but said nothing.

When Ron got back we were finally able to shower away the wet and cold of the day. Afterwards he volunteered to help cook and I was nearly bowled over when she accepted. Both were exceptional cooks and soon talked about recipes, as if they hadn't been fucking hours ago.

We setup an electric heater and light in the media room, and enjoyed a leisurely dinner there as the storm blasted outside. Ron had regained some chattiness and entertained us with stories about his mother, three sisters and eleven nieces and how his ex had managed to alienate each of them. Hearing of her hateful nature, it became evident to me that Lieb had been on the money when she refused to even consider anything with him, when married.

Listening, I recalled him confessing in his car earlier that he lacked a lot of restraint because he hadn't been with a woman in months - something I neglected to tell Lieb. However, all evening, after the cooking was done, she kept a polite distance between them, signaling the fling was over.

Lieb left to take a shower and when she was out of earshot I became serious and told him, "Ron, you're a lucky man, but I'm sure you know."

Without hesitation, he agreed, "Yes. Again, I'm sorry for what I caused today."

I had picked up my cordless screwdriver and inspected it briefly before answering, "That's not what I meant by lucky. I'm as responsible for today as anyone. Years ago, I told Lieb if she ever had the urge, that you would be a good choice. After today, I know I was right."

The revelation stunned him. His eyes had a happy sparkle and he was going to say something, but stopped.

I held the screwdriver up and squeezed the trigger, "Whir. Whir. Whir." Then added, "I give it fifty-fifty."

She returned from her shower and Ron and I turned to look at her dressed in a loose black zip-up sweatshirt and snug sweatpants. As she passed we caught the sweet citrus and floral scent she wore. Ron was quick to show what a large family of women taught him and said, "That's one of the most alluring perfumes ever. It's so feminine. Chanel Coco isn't it?"

Lieb nearly swooned, then lifted her wrist to him and purred, "Yes! One of my favorites."

He was quick to lift it and draw a deep breath, then paused a moment before smiling broadly and said, "You bring life to it. Your body chemistry adds a note to the vanilla and white musk that's provocative, something indefinable. It's like a constant call back for more."

Lieb stared at him unflinchingly, somewhat mesmerized, while he spoke. Then smiled sweetly and softly said, "Ron, you're full of it."

"Really Lieb. You've enhanced it and lifted the experience a few levels. Ask your husband."

I started to move to sample, but she ignored me as she sniffed at her wrist, then turned to me. "Honey why don't you get some wine for us... please."

I sensed a door had been slammed in my face and agreed as I left them to discuss perfume. I took my time selecting a half dozen bottles I thought they would enjoy. I made sure they were potent.

My wife is attractive and even at forty, men from twenty to seventy would hit on her at work. She visited Germany once and wore a traditional dirndl at Oktoberfest but left early because so many men made passes at her, most mistaking her for a local. Since she works as a manager there was no way to avoid the public and I suspect that's why she started to wear clothes to conceal her figure. When we first married she wore one-piece wrap-arounds, short dresses, and skirts with open necklines. But after a few years it was loose, stylish tops and sweaters, pantsuits, and blazers to hide the goodies.

Nobody could see they covered a size six with a 33C chest. Lieb wasn't a hard body, but a prime woman with a few extra ounces making her mature curves a delight to see and touch. Her pale flesh was unblemished from her pedicured toes to her long straight brunette hair, except for a few light sun freckles under her gleaming hazel eyes. Ron was completely focused and adamantly agreeing with something she said when I returned.

They discussed cooking while I served the wine. Ron complimented her cooking, amazed she knew how to make his favorite salad dressing by remembering it from a dinner-dance event years ago. Her mention of that dance led to him recalling she wanted to learn to tango, and I swear her tits pushed her sweatshirt out an inch. I tried to recall that night , but couldn't.

Ron had become a good dancer as a boy. With three sisters he learned he could get cash or favors from them by being a practice partner. I knew Lieb always wanted to learn the tango, so I suggested he teach her while the storm raged. Ron agreed quickly, but Lieb was tentative, only accepting after I nudged her a little.

The new vinyl floor was great for dancing and he showed her basic steps while maintaining a polite distance between them. As they advanced, body contact became frequent, so she could feel his move and her follow. After awhile the steps grew somewhat intimate with occasional fleeting contact of the hips, and sometimes groin, which I suspected weren't tango steps, but Lieb had fun.

It was somewhere after finishing the second bottle that Ron headed to the bathroom, and my wife sat by me sipping her wine. She was happy and casually said, "I've always wanted to try that. It was fun, but that's enough. You want to dance with me?"

I was almost drowsy from watching them and answered, "Maybe later. Wait for Ron. Okay?"

She nodded, then from nowhere asked, "Who was she?"

I nearly spilled my drink. It was a fair question now that I had revealed it, so I crossed my fingers and replied, "Her name was Susan and she worked at Edgers Restaurant."

"Oh yea. I remember her. She was single and pretty. How long were you two a couple?"

I started to get uncomfortable but answered, "She was divorced. Three months I think."

She stared at my eyes as she asked, "How did it get started?"

I knew I had to answer truthfully, "We used to joke around when I had lunch there and we hit it off. It began when I helped her once when she had trouble starting her car. She needed a ride so I took her home and things just went from there. It wasn't planned or anything against you. It was something different. Exciting. New."

I glanced into her eyes and thought I saw the answers satisfied her but they didn't.

"Did you love her?"

I dreaded that would come but answered. "No. Infatuated for a time, and I liked her a lot, but not in love. I'm sure our chemistry was oil and water and wouldn't have lasted much longer then it did. That's why we parted ways as friends."

"Did she love you?"

"No Honey. I never would have let that happen either."

She smiled lovingly at me and confessed softly," Yea. I felt the thrill. The flattery of being desired. I think it was Ron because we're friends with similar interests, but I know deep inside we're basically incompatible and things wouldn't progress seriously. After your suggestion years ago, I thought of him as a safe date when we ran into each other last week. But not like you suggested until we met at the auto shop this morning and he offered to drive me home."

I answered sincerely, "I want you to know I love you and for you to have something fun and different in your life."

She smiled. "Thanks Honey. I love you too."

We sat quietly and sipped our drinks, then she asked, "Last question. It's very personal... ahh... were you having naughty ideas after you found us?"

I was going to skirt the question, but Ron reappeared and I said, "My wife is sick of the Tango. Why don't you show her something lively like the Lindy Hop."

He rolled his eyes wide in amusement and fighting a laugh replied, "Too acrobatic for me... how about some original Blues Dancing? Real soft and easy, almost like a basic instinct."

Lieb giggled and took his hand as I found a mix of Delta and Memphis Blues for them. They started out tamely with long, exaggerated steps and twists, and began chatting about southern recipes. I knew they would soon turn to another favorite topic they shared - grocery shopping. So I decided it was time to check and fuel the generator and make sure the rest of the house was secure in the strong winds slamming the house.

About twenty minutes later I returned and found the room darkened and lit with the soft orange glow of flickering candles. Lieb didn't even look me and said, "We agreed the Beale Street Blues are best danced in darkened rooms."

As my eyes grew accustomed to the light I saw the long strides were gone, replaced by the old two-step-and-hip-shimmy. I noticed Ron's right knee was beginning to venture between hers, and the rolling hip shimmy at each twisting turn invariably caused some contact between their groins. Lieb was relaxed and moved gracefully to the beat.

After a few dances I was surprised when she looked over her shoulder at me in the shadows, and blew a kiss my way. Turning away, she paused, mid-step to look up at him, and in a heartfelt purr said, "Ron, thank you so much for your help today. You lifted a giant worry off Jim and me. We appreciate it so much."

Before he could reply, she stood tiptoed and gently kissed his lips, prolonging the moment. They barely danced and when Ron cautiously moved his lips near hers, she accepted his advance with ardor.

Within moments their passion was unrestrained, and when he put his hand between them to roam over her sweatshirt, feeling her breasts, I knew it was the turning point. Liebs tits were her stop-go buttons, and until I saw her positively accept that touch, I was unsure I would see them fuck.

Things moved rapidly from there and he resumed dancing by placing his right leg between my wife's legs for her to straddle. The two-step was gone, traded for the one-step and a hip-roll with loins meshed as they danced slowly.

Their hands roamed, and he discovered the gentle swell of her ass and lightly squeezed each cheek. I was amused to see them abruptly stop, so he could shift his cock to enable it to press against my wife. When they resumed, their slow dance scarcely concealed they were dry-humping to the music as she partnered by holding his ass.

I stepped back and sat in the darkest corner on the U-shaped sofa, very still and quiet, nervously anticipating what I wanted to see. There was no rush as they danced for quite some time before sitting across from me on the other end of the large sectional sofa to have a drink. They resumed necking and their hands traced each other's arms, backs, necks and faces.

Her top was gradually unzipped to reveal her white lace bra. It was new, like the panties she wore earlier, but this time I wasn't peeved. It was sheer and even in the dim light permitted a teasing view of her stiff, quarter-sized dark nipples. Her restrained breasts bulged above the low cups allowing him to kiss the soft mounds as he traced his fingers over them.

I saw my wife's sighs of pleasure delighted Ron and he made a special effort to tease the soft mound by lightly drawing his finger across them, then squeeze them briskly. When he reached to unclasp her bra, he paused to stare as the soft mounds slid into view before lowering his lips over her hard nipples and intensely savor them.

From my position Lieb was more beautiful and desirable than ever. Her eyes were closed and head tilted back while he avidly lavished kisses over her tits while molding and shifting the pliant flesh about in his hand. My wife's flushed face and deep breaths showed a state of intense appreciation at the thorough attention he gave them, and I noted the soft swells had become flushed, and swollen fuller with his touch.

Ron dropped his hand to her waistband and pushed her sweatpants down a few inches as he continued lavishing kisses on her breasts. He took his time and when he pushed again, I could see inches below her waist, the white lace top of her panties. He savored the view of the bare, trim tummy he had uncovered, then returned to suck a nipple into his mouth.

When he pushed the sweats again, the band of white fabric broke into view. The lace waistband supported a hand's breath of sheer, intricate lace, which ended loosely around the very top junction of her thighs.

Ron absorbed the view of the lace boy-shorts enveloping the swell of my wife's ass and drew his hand over it. Lace stretched tightly over the prominent bulge nestled in the wedge between her creamy thighs, slightly exposing the dark patch it covered. He sighed deeply and murmured, "So beautiful. So very, very beautiful." He bent to lightly kiss her bare legs, before raising to whisper something I couldn't hear, which caused her to kiss him passionately.

When he pushed them down to her feet, she kicked them off. The candles gave her skin a shimmering pink-orange cast. Fully naked, Lieb cuddled close as he touched her bare legs and brushed his fingers lightly over them, until rising to cup the silky mound in the heel of his hand while curling a finger into the vulnerable softness beneath. She parted her legs and yielded herself to his touch as he gradually penetrated her.

He shifted his attention and trailed kisses to her tummy as he shifted her and knelt on the floor between her legs. My wifes breathing became deep and uneven as he kissed the soft, thick ridges flanking the wet seam he had two fingers moving in.

Lieb laid her head back and rocked it side to side as she pushed her fingers through his dark hair. He would briefly insert his tongue into the slit, running it over the tender folds inside, then retreat to lavish the outer folds with kisses. Her hips twitched involuntarily, showing her desire, and I knew my wife wanted to fuck. She wanted Ron's cock in her and she churned in anticipation.

He stopped and quickly pulled his shirt over his head to expose the limber, muscled arms and chest of a swimmer. I understood why he walked so gracefully, with an effortless agility.

Lieb instantly ran her hands over the new discovery as he struggled to push his pants off. When he grabbed his briefs she stopped him and pulled him to sit beside her.

She hooked a thumb into his waistband and looked down as she slowly began pushing the snug briefs down. Her hand lingered on the hard bulge for seconds as her fingers traced the hard muscle, then pushed down letting his cock uncoil from its restraint like a stiff spring.

She wrapped her fingers around it and pumped as they kissed, before moving to kiss the tip of it lovingly. She continued by lavishing soft kisses around the rim of the thick tip until he was sighing and raising it nearer to her. They both groaned when her lips slid easily over the purple crown as she delicately sucked it into her mouth.

I must admit he had a nice looking cock and could probably be a penis model for dildoes. It was over seven inches, slightly curved and symmetrical, not as gnarled as most. He was neatly trimmed and extremely rigid. The tip was larger than average, being prominent enough that my wife seemed to like running her tongue around it's periphery for his obvious delight.

Ron stopped her so he could move his tongue to her pussy and they shifted into a sixty-nine position, something I rarely got to enjoy. I moved closer very quietly to see him darting his tongue into her wet slit.
Lieb's outer folds were swollen with desire by then and had drawn back to expose her tender inner lips which were engorged from the action of his fingers and lips. Ron moved away and my wife spread her legs shamelessly in anticipation so he could kneel between them. He hovered above her and slid the thick tip of his hard shaft through the length of her wet slit several times, then showed his hardness by guiding the tip to enter the outer red folds, hands free.

He paused, then pushed and filled her, causing her to groan throatily. My wife began to softly whine as he pushed deeper. Her groans quickened, and her cries grew frequent. Earlier I wondered if he'd been screwing her too roughly, but I soon understood there was a plateau where she wanted his hard jabs deep, and causing her praise, "Unh. Yes!"

The sight of her surging to receive his thrusts was close to driving me over the edge. The pungent smell of her moist cunt was fragrant with musk and filled my nostrils, deep into my eyes and face. The slick agitation of her secretions were just audible and Ron's hard jabs grew frequent.

He restrained himself a few times to prolong their pleasure but I saw they were near. Suddenly she ordered, "Now!"

He obeyed, pegging her with a solid thrust deep inside, and paused as she shuddered intensely. She threw her head back and groaned, "Fuck... me... hard!"

He followed with three jolting strokes to trigger a blast of sperm deep in her cunt. He pressed his face into her shoulder and continued erratically.

My wife's whine was laden with praise. "Yes... ohhh... yes." as his hot, creamy load flooded her vagina until their spasms and twitching slowly ebbed.

They rested, joined, with his cock still wedged in her wet channel as they caught their breath. I savored the sight of Ron's naked backside hiding my wife beneath him, excepting her extended arms and legs.

He rolled off to her side as she pulled a blanket over them, as they quietly rested. I kept hearing the wind's hush, but soon realized it was them whispering so softly that I couldn't follow the conversation.

A few minutes passed and Lieb softly called, "Honey, come here".

I didn't hesitate, "Sure Babe." and moved to her.

Ron sat up but she grabbed his arm and stopped him, scarcely a foot away. "Stay near."

She lifted the blanket wordlessly, and held her arms open for me.

I kissed her lovingly, drawing in the scent they'd created. She was different with her cunt full of another man's fresh sperm, vibrant, and lively, deep within her, and the effect on me was electric. The damp heat they emitted swept over me and I reveled in the nearness of the naked lovers as I kissed her.

She rolled on her back and pulled me toward her, whispering "Come on."

She spread her legs but instead of sliding over her, I reached between them to feel the wet, sticky slit, saturated with their fluids. Then, effortlessly, I slipped two fingers in her, then three, and churned them in the liquid until I couldn't keep from fucking her.

The feeling on the tip of my hard cock was like a hot, wet, satin sheath absorbing me and I moved slow in an attempt to relish every second of the slippery canal's grasp. Lieb started cumming after only a few gentle strokes, and her firm pulsing hold on my rigid prick ignited an explosive load. The kind sent with a stinging jolt of intense satisfaction that curled my toes.

As my intense pleasure subsided I grew aware that my wife was holding Ron's hard cock inches from us. She covered my face with kisses, then barely audible, whispered in my ear, "Honey, I want him in me again. I want him to do it hard. And I want him to shoot it deep."

I quickly moved back to my seat, as he gave her what she wanted, and what I wanted, until we slept hours later.

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