It's An Open House Part 13

"We're just too boring," I remember saying to Minnie once. "But if you ever decide to do it, promise you'll cheat with me." She promised she would, and we both laughed. That's how it all started. I guess we had to establish that we were safe from that kind of thing before we could really begin to discuss our deepest feelings together. Minnie always confided in me when she was getting fed up with her husband A1, and I would go to her if I was having trouble with my wife Anne. We'd blow off a little steam, complain about our spouses for a while and then we'd both go home and make up with them.

Before we parted, though, we always made our standard running joke about how we ought to go to bed with each other and just get it over with once and for all. "If I were as compatible with A1 as I am with you," Minnie once told me, "we wouldn't have these little discussions."

I understood how she felt. I love my wife dearly, but once in a while I wondered how things might have been different if we had never gotten married. But then my boring side came back to the surface, and I realized that it was very important to me to be faithful to my wife, who I love very deeply.

Even so, my discussions with Minnie became more graphic as the years went on. We talked often about what we'd do together if we finally gave in to our wilder impulses and had that affair. Don't be fooled by my saying we've been talking like this for years. We're not a couple of elderly frumps. At thirty-eight, Minnie is s.e.xier than most girls in their early twenties. Her t.i.ts are very full, and the fact that they're not riding quite as high as they once did makes them that much more voluptuous. They're like fruit that's almost too juicy to eat, but you know you have to finish it once you've started.

That's how Minnie finally turned out to be, just like wonderfully ripe fruit. The two of us had resisted the temptation to have s.e.x with each other for a long time, but at last she was bursting with juice. And once I had that juice running down my chin, I had to keep swallowing until I'd had it all.

One day we were talking, as we had so many times before, about her problems with her husband. It sounded to me as if they had reached that point that all married couples seem to get to, where they were hardly having s.e.x at all, and when they finally did have s.e.x it was more out of obligation than because they wanted to. Millie looked me square in the eye and claimed that she hadn't had an o.r.g.a.s.m in six months she hadn't given herself with her own fingers.

"Even so," I told her, kidding around as usual (or so I thought) "I'd like to see that for myself. That may not be the way you like to get an o.r.g.a.s.m, but it would sure do the trick for me. Actually," I continued, not really thinking about what I was saying, "you should just let me do it. It wouldn't be cheating if you just let me rub you a little. You don't think you're cheating when you rub yourself. What's the difference? It's only cheating if we f.u.c.k."

Like I said, I was basically joking, but I could tell from the look on Minnie's face that she was seriously weighing what I'd just said. "I don't know if that would hold up in court," she finally said with a bit of a laugh. "But I'll tell you this: I'm so desperate to get off with someone else that I could almost think about it."

This was turning out to be less lighthearted than most of our flirtations, and I started wondering if we were finally crossing the border into the serious consideration of adultery.

We joked about it a bit, but the joking got more and more serious. "So tell me how it would be if we slept together," she said finally.

We were sitting in the lounge at a small bowling alley just outside of our hometown, where we met sometimes when we didn't have anywhere else to go. Her hand was lying on the table, so I put my hand lightly on hers and began to stroke it as I talked.

"Well, you know that I'd be gentle with you," I a.s.sured her in a soft voice. "There wouldn't be any of that quick, insensitive stuff that A1 is into. I like to go slow and soft when I'm making love with a woman. I wouldn't go for a lot of kissing and stuff to warm up, though. We've been waiting for this a long time, and I don't think we're going to need a lot of foreplay to get us in the mood. I know you wonder about me, and I wonder about you. So I'd just start right in by unsnapping those jeans you're wearing."

As my fingers continued to caress the back of her hand, Minnie drew in a sudden breath. I looked at her and realized that she'd closed her eyes in order to imagine it better. It wasn't the most romantic setting, but I decided to give her my best shot.

I'd pull your zipper down, but I wouldn't take your pants off," I continued. "I'd ease my hand into your panties and work it around until I had enough room to get at your p.u.s.s.y. There's something so s.e.xy about putting your hand on a woman without undressing her first."

The more I said to her, the more I could tell that my words were beginning to have some sort of an effect on her. Minnie moved her fingers apart, just as though she were spreading her legs. I picked up on the hint and worked my own finger into the V that formed there and applied some gentle pressure. She sighed and her lips parted slightly. "I can't believe that you understand what I need so well," she murmured. "But, please, tell me some more about how you'd do me."

"Well, I'd put just the tip of my index finger right on your b.u.t.ton. After you come, I know I'll want to play all around, touch you everywhere, probe inside you as far as I can. But first I want to get you off, make you come, make you relax and accept me. So I'd go right to your c.l.i.t and get to work.

"But I wouldn't do it too fast. At first I'd just press against your c.l.i.t, to see how hard it is and how much pressure you like. I'd move it from side to side and up and down. Then I'd go in circles, and I'd listen to how you responded to each motion, trying to find out which one was just right for you at that moment.

"Once I knew what it was that you wanted, I'd concentrate on giving it to you, except I'd go just a little slower than you wanted me to. And as you got closer to coming, I'd go slower still, but I'd press down a little harder until you finally just slip right over into a slow, pounding o.r.g.a.s.m."

Minnie groaned slightly, and then she snapped her eyes open, the way you do sometimes when you wake up and realize you weren't supposed to be sleeping. She stared at me, looking perturbed, and then stood up. I got up, too.

"No, you sit here and finish your drink," she told me, hastily pulling out her lipstick and applying it with a slightly shaky hand. "I just remembered that I was supposed to be home early tonight. I'll see you same time next week?"

She leaned over and gave me a peck on the cheek before she ran out, but I knew I'd upset her. I'd really gone too far, and I kicked myself for doing it. After all these years, I was afraid that I'd finally ruined things for good. Things were never going to be the same between us. That much was obvious, and I was really sorry about it.

The next time I saw Minnie I was all set to apologize. I'd been thinking about it and was pretty sure I knew how she'd approach it. She was going to pretend that it had never happened, and when I brought it up she would laugh it off. I wasn't really comfortable with that, but it was better than ruining our friendship.

That wasn't the way it turned out at all, though. We met at a much quieter place the next time, and we got a table where no one else would hear what we were talking about.

I tried to talk first when we sat down, but she cut me off. "Look, I know what you're going to say, but it's just not going to happen. We can't go back to the way we've been. We slipped over the line."

"I know," I admitted, "but we're both adults. We can control our feelings."

"Well, I'm getting tired of controlling my feelings," Minnie informed me. "The way I see it, there are two things we can do. We can either stop seeing each other completely ..." She took a deep breath. "Or you can go ahead and do what you told me you would."

She looked me right in the eye, not at all the embarra.s.sed housewife she'd been the last time we met.

"I'm wearing the same jeans," she pointed out.

"So you are," I said, trying to smile with a confidence I wasn't feeling. "But where would we go? Let's get serious here for a minute."

Minnie held up her hand. There was a ring wrapped around her index finger, attached to a single key on a big plastic tag. She twirled it a little. Suddenly she was the brave one.

"Well?" she asked.

I swallowed and smiled. "Let's go," I said.

Just as I'd promised, I didn't waste any time once we were in the motel room. We had barely spoken on the drive over in her car. We'd both been trying to make our peace with what we were about to do. I, for one, failed completely, but I wasn't about to back out. So when the room door shut behind us I had my hands on her belt before she was able to get her lips on mine.

As a result, our first kiss missed, and I had trouble seeing what I was doing with her zipper. We were fumbling and stumbling all around the room, trying to kiss and get her pants unfastened. Soon we were laughing together again.

That was what had been missing between us since I'd first brought up the subject of rubbing her p.u.s.s.y. Everything had been so serious that we were in danger of losing the original impulse. But we were suddenly having fun again, and just like that I wanted her more than I'd ever wanted a woman before.

Minnie took the problem of the jeans into her own hands, practically ripping them off and throwing them and her panties into the corner of the room. "I know you said you were going to do it to me with my pants on," she hissed between giggles, "but I was beginning to think I'd die of old age before you got there. So come on, tiger."

With that, she flung herself on her back on the bed. The sight of her lying there with her p.u.s.s.y exposed and her shirt and bra still on was so lewd and erotic that I got an erection instantly. In another second my hands were all over her, trying to remember that I'd vowed to go slowly and make her masturbation session last. At the time I'd told her that, though, I didn't realize that I would be just as excited as she was. Still, I was determined to go slow and make it an exciting experience for both of us but it wasn't going to be easy.

Her slit was every bit as wet as I'd described it as being. It felt hot against my fingertips as I quickly moved around between her puffy l.a.b.i.a, finding her c.l.i.t and getting a general feel for the shape and size of her p.u.s.s.y. Her c.l.i.t was bigger than I'd imagined, and it was as hard as a tiny c.o.c.k. I gave it a gentle, tentative flick of my finger to see how responsive it was.

Minnie let out a gasp and dug her chin into my shoulder as I lay there beside her. "Rub me," she said. That was exactly what I intended to do, and I proceeded to go around her c.l.i.t in little circles, every once in a while crossing that tender bud of flesh with my fingers and drawing a gasp or a moan from her. Even though I moved slowly, she was obviously already climbing the ladder of o.r.g.a.s.m. But then she stopped moving and groaned in a way that wasn't the least bit s.e.xual.

"It's not enough," she finally sputtered between gritted teeth.

"What do you want?" I asked, sorry to disappoint her and a little hurt that she hadn't given me more of a chance. "Faster?"

"No, silly," she responded with a quick, s.e.xy laugh. "I want you to lie on top of me and stick that c.o.c.k of yours into me. I thought it would be enough just to feel you touching me, just to come like a woman again. But it isn't enough. I want to be f.u.c.ked."

If I'd stopped to think about it, even for an instant, I probably would have backed out of the whole thing. After all, I was the one who had joked that it wouldn't be adultery if we didn't have intercourse. Somewhere deep inside I kind of believed that. By masturbating Minnie, I felt like I was helping out an old friend. If I took my own pants off, I knew that I'd really be betraying my marriage vows.

But I didn't stop and think about it. Not even for a second. Lying next to me was a voluptuous woman who was also my best friend, and I suddenly admitted what I'd always known. All that flirtation all those years was completely serious, and every word of it, every joke, every gesture, had been leading up to this.

In a second my clothes were slapping the wall in the corner and falling on top of hers. She had pulled off her shirt, but left her bra on. Somehow, keeping that one item of clothing on made her much s.e.xier than if she'd been naked. It was a white, lacy bra, and as I slipped my hard d.i.c.k into the place where it had wanted to be all these years, my whole attention was on her heavy t.i.ts in that little lacy contraption.

Our bodies had minds of their own, and knew just what they wanted to do, so we let them go at it. They fell into a perfect rhythm at once. Meanwhile we just stared into each other's eyes with deep, abiding affection as our genitals did their thing. I held myself up with one arm, and with my other hand I began to caress her beautiful b.r.e.a.s.t.s through the lace that almost hid them from me. Her nipples were straining to get through the flimsy fabric, but they were trapped inside, as we had been trapped: able to see and feel each other, but unable to come together.

All that had changed now, and it was changed forever. I stared into her eyes and felt her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and I suddenly realized that I was spraying a jet of come into her sweet p.u.s.s.y, which drank it up just as fast as I could deliver it.

We have no idea where this affair is going to go from here. I don't think I want to leave my wife, or that Minnie would want me to. We've agreed not to discuss it for a while, until we know a little more about how we feel about each other. For the moment, though, I'm just glad that we've admitted the depth of our pa.s.sion.-K.G., Duluth, Minnesota THE LADY GUARDED HIS c.o.c.k, AND TOGETHER THEY MADE THE JAILHOUSE ROCK.

I'm a prisoner incarcerated at a southern penitentiary. I'm a big fan of Penthouse Letters, and I really enjoy reading about the s.e.xual adventures your other readers have, so I had to write and share the story of a short f.u.c.k session that happened between a female corrections officer and myself last year.

This officer, who I'll call Ms. Flame (which obviously isn't her real name but is a good way to describe her personality), worked in the prison unit I was housed in, a unit of one-man cells. Female officers are a big deal in prison, because when you don't have access to p.u.s.s.y it's something you can only dream about. The only way something like that can become reality is if you get lucky enough to catch the eye of a female guard. As fate would have it, I caught the eye of the beautiful Ms. Flame.

One day as she was on the tier pa.s.sing out mail, I decided to see how she would react if she saw me jacking my d.i.c.k. Just the thought of having those sweet lips wrapped around my pole or being able to lie between those fine legs while I was pumping my meat into her was enough to give me a hard-on. So there I was with my d.i.c.k in my hand when she made it to my cell. The way she looked at my rigid pole told me all I needed to know.

I decided to put on a show for her every time she came on the block for her tour. This went on for a few weeks until I couldn't take it anymore and decided to take the next step. I would risk asking her to make it possible for me to give her some d.i.c.k for real.

I knew that I would get myself into some deep s.h.i.t with the prison administrators if she reported that I was making s.e.xual advances to her, but at that point I was really thinking with my c.o.c.k, not my brain. I figured that the pay-off would be worth the risk involved, so I wrote Ms. Flame a note telling her how I would love to lick her sweet p.u.s.s.y and have her suck my d.i.c.k.

Because my job is cleaning floors and washing windows, I knew that we could find a way to have a quick but meaningful f.u.c.k session in one of the storage rooms, if she was willing. After I gave her the note, I sat back and waited to see what she would do. The next day when I saw her, her reaction blew me away. She gave me a big smile when she walked past my cell. I knew then that somehow, some way, she was going to make it possible for us to get together.

The time came one Sat.u.r.day morning a few weeks later while I was on the job, scrubbing the windows and mopping the floor in another part of the unit. I was told by another inmate, a friend of mine, that Ms. Flame wanted me to help her get some supplies from one of the storage rooms. I knew then that it was on.

When I walked into the storage room, there she was, the woman that I had spent many nights f.u.c.king in my mind. There was no time for talking-we both knew why we were there. After locking the door I walked up to her and started kissing her and touching her big, soft t.i.ts. I knew we didn't have much time, but I had to suck her big pink nipples, if only for a minute or two. Her skin felt so soft. I took her t.i.ts out of her bra, sucking on one while I played with the other.

Finally I left off sucking her t.i.ts, eager to get to her p.u.s.s.y. When she undid her pants I saw to my delight that she wore thong panties and, better yet, didn't have any hair on her p.u.s.s.y. I have never seen such a beautiful sight. I guess she saw the admiration in my eyes, because she lay back on a stack of boxes and invited me to have a taste.

"My pleasure," I said as I began to tongue her. She was really hot, and in no time at all she pulled me harder into her sweet c.u.n.t and came all over my face. Her p.u.s.s.y juice tasted sweeter than honey.

When I got up, with my d.i.c.k sticking straight out, she said she wanted me to f.u.c.k her from behind. I had no problem with that. I got behind her and slowly stuck my d.i.c.k in her p.u.s.s.y. It had been a while since I'd f.u.c.ked some real c.u.n.t, and I knew I wouldn't be able to last too long. As I balled her I played with her c.l.i.t. She was really f.u.c.king herself on my d.i.c.k, matching my strokes and banging my p.r.i.c.k hard. I was f.u.c.king her like a madman, and the small sounds she was making told me that she loved every second of it. In a few minutes she screamed and came again, and I shot off, filling her hole with so much come that the s.h.i.t ran down her legs.

After getting some paper towels to wipe off with, she planted a big kiss on my lips then pulled her pants back on and left the storage room. We were able to get together a few more times after that, but then she was moved to another unit. I still see her around the prison from time to time, but I know I'll never get another chance to have that sweet p.u.s.s.y again. I'm trying real hard, but so far I haven't caught the eye of another female officer. I guess it's back to reading Penthouse Letters.-Name and address withheld TWO CO-WORKERS USE THE CONFERENCE ROOM FOR A SPECIAL KIND OF MEETING.

I'd had my eye on Chet ever since he was transferred to my office. He's big and blond and incredibly s.e.xy, plus he's very nice and a complete pleasure to be around. As fellow workers, we naturally struck up a friendship, which gradually became more and more intimate-and more and more flirtatious. With each encounter our conversations became increasingly daring, and I knew it was only a matter of time before our relationship would eventually become physical.

One day, coincidentally, we both found ourselves at work early. There were only a few other people in the office, so I went over to his desk to get in a little flirting before the workday began. After a few minutes of s.e.xy banter, Chet came right out and said that he would love to reach out and put his hands on my big, beautiful b.r.e.a.s.t.s. I was a little bit startled, but I played along, saying that maybe we should go into the conference room and discuss it in more detail. To my surprise, he jumped up from his desk and led the way!

We stepped into the conference room and he locked the door behind us. The shades were still drawn over the windows, but he didn't turn on the lights. He reached out and his hands found my body in the dimness. He began to shower me with kisses, and as he thrust his tongue into my mouth, my nipples became thick and erect. I felt my p.u.s.s.y begin to pulse as his kisses became more intense and his hands roamed over my body, caressing my shoulders and tickling me along my rib cage. It was almost too much to bear. Oh G.o.d, I thought to myself, I have to feel this man's mouth on my c.u.n.t!

Almost as if reading my mind, Chet lifted me onto the conference table. He gently removed my nylons and began ma.s.saging my inner thighs. The feel of his fingers trailing up my legs and the way he clenched my calves when he spread my legs apart were so distracting that I almost forgot we were in a (semi) public place where we could be seen at almost any moment. But that only helped to make the experience more exciting for me.

By the time he turned his attention back to my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, my s.n.a.t.c.h was absolutely dripping with antic.i.p.ation. I wanted to cry out, but I knew that others would be arriving for work and I didn't want to be heard. I wanted him to hurry, but at the same time I also loved the way he was gliding his hands slowly over my legs and stomach.

I could hear his breathing becoming more rapid as he drew my panties down and off, and soon I felt his warm breath between my legs. And then his tongue was on my c.l.i.t, licking slowly, teasing me. I began to moan as his mouth engulfed my flesh, unable to keep quiet as his talented tongue brought me to an amazing o.r.g.a.s.m. He then lifted me up to my feet and kissed me so we could share the wonderful taste of my come together.

Chet then turned me around and told me to bend over. I placed my hands on the table and spread my legs for him. He slipped his d.i.c.k into me and began a slow, rhythmic pumping. Oh, how I wanted to scream out! His big c.o.c.k was almost more than I could handle. He held onto my waist and picked up speed, slamming his p.r.i.c.k into my c.u.n.t over and over again with a determination that I'd never experienced before. He reached around and grabbed my nipples, kneading them as I rocked back and forth on his ma.s.sive rod. I was ready to feel his come burst into me. I felt another o.r.g.a.s.m coming on and was thrilled when we came at the same time, our juices mingling and spilling out of my p.u.s.s.y and onto the edge of the table.

We both composed ourselves as best we could, rearranged our clothes and quickly went back to our desks like nothing happened. I tried hard to concentrate on my job, but thoughts of work took a back seat to thoughts of pleasure! I can't wait to get Chet into the conference room again, but with no one else around, so I can make as much noise as I want to!-L.Q., Phoenix, Arizona

Open Season.

THEY TOOK THEIR NEW VAN TO THE DRIVE-IN, BUT THEY DIDN'T SEE MUCH OF THE MOVIE Last spring I finally bought a new van at the behest of my wife Ginny. Complete with curtains, a cooler and a full-size air mattress, it became our own private box at one of the few remaining drive-ins in the area. We would go every Sat.u.r.day night. It really didn't matter what was playing, as the movie was secondary to the fun we had in the back of the van. It took us back to our days of courtship, and the antic.i.p.ation that built up during the week was really exciting.

Usually Ginny dressed in tight terrycloth shorts or a slip dress, or some other s.e.xy thing, for these evenings. One night she looked so s.e.xy that I suddenly thought it was a h.e.l.l of a waste to keep her all to myself. So I arranged to have Wally, a friend of ours who works with Ginny, meet us at the show later that evening.

You should have seen her that night. She wore a cut-off T-shirt that exposed the bottoms of her large b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and a pair of those form-fitting terrycloth shorts. Ginny is on the short side at five feet three, and most of her hundred and twenty pounds are topside. She has long brown hair and big brown eyes, and her perfume drives me crazy.

We arrived at the drive-in, got into the back of the van, arranged our refreshments and commenced to have our little party. Half an hour later Wally showed up, right where I told him we'd be.

By that time Ginny and I had had a couple of beers each, and Wally brought more. Ginny and I were lying on the air mattress, and after a while I suggested that Wally crawl in on the other side of her for the remainder of the show.

Although she hadn't planned for this, Ginny was very congenial, not to mention buzzed, and more than a little h.o.r.n.y. Still, she did her best to try to keep her shorts from riding up. Not easy, considering that we were all lying on our stomachs and elbows, watching the movie out of the back of the van.

After a while I put my hand on her back and lightly ma.s.saged it, working my hand under her shirt. I leaned over to kiss her left ear, and heard her swallow hard when my tongue touched her earlobe. By this time my hand had gone down onto her a.s.s.

I heard her gasp quietly when she realized that Wally's hand had found its way onto her leg, and was working into her shorts. She looked at me with dreamy, l.u.s.t-filled eyes, and I smiled and nodded at her.

Wally was on his side now, his hand inside her shorts, and from her reactions I guessed he had one or two fingers in her c.u.n.t. After a series of soft, slow moans, she rolled onto her side facing me, and pressed her a.s.s against him.

I pulled her shirt up, then sucked at her milky-white t.i.ts and sweet nipples as Wally's hand continued playing deep inside her shorts. He removed it briefly as I reached down and pulled those shorts off her. As I'd suspected, she wore no panties. Wally's hand quickly returned to cover her p.u.s.s.y mound, and she moaned deeply.

I lay back now, not wanting to miss anything, taking in the incredibly hot vision before me. Ginny was looking at me with half-closed eyes, moaning more loudly and twisting her body, squirming her gorgeous a.s.s against Wally's loins as he sucked on her ear and neck while his fingers probed her wet p.u.s.s.y. She turned to face him now, scrabbling at his zipper and pulling out his big c.o.c.k. As she ma.s.saged it he put a hand under her leg and spread her c.u.n.t wide. Their crotches pressed together and I could see her rubbing her slit along the shaft of his p.r.i.c.k.

Finally, the head of his c.o.c.k disappeared between her tight p.u.s.s.y lips. With that Ginny's eyes opened wide, and she grunted, "Oh yeah! Deeper!" Her body pushed forward to accept the ma.s.sive tool that invaded her, filling her l.u.s.ty c.u.n.t as Wally began to thrust. Moans and grunts escaped from my wife's parted lips, his c.o.c.k stretching her p.u.s.s.y walls as he went deeper than any man had gone before.

Ginny rolled over onto her back, spreading her legs wide to take even more of him. His movements were harder now, more forceful. Ginny was panting hard, and moaning, "Yes, f.u.c.k me, oh yeah!" Her large b.r.e.a.s.t.s bounced and shuddered with each stroke.

Then Wally cried out that he was coming and attempted to pull out, but Ginny wrapped her arms and legs about him and held him there, and in a moment they reached o.r.g.a.s.m simultaneously, Wally filling my wife's stretched c.u.n.t with his come.

As he rolled off, I took his place, inserting my c.o.c.k into what felt like a subway tunnel, big and wet. It didn't matter though, because in only moments I shot inside her, adding my come to his.

I sure am glad my wife talked me into getting a van!-F.P., Asheville, North Carolina HIS WIFE GETS WORKED UP WHEN SHE WORKS OUT, ESPECIALLY WITH HIS FRIEND.

My wife Rebecca and I have been married for eighteen years. We have had a great marriage and a good s.e.x life. But in any marriage, after a long time the s.e.x tends to become routine, and for several years I had been trying to spice it up somewhat, but to little avail. Rebecca allowed me to buy her a few d.i.l.d.os, including a big thick one ten inches long, which she can take all the way. She enjoyed these, but on the whole her att.i.tude toward s.e.x was pretty traditional and straightforward.

I enjoy reading Penthouse Letters, especially the stories about a husband watching his wife seduce another man. I have a fantasy that I have told Rebecca about. It involves us going to a bar, but pretending not to know each other. Rebecca would dress very s.e.xily, and at the bar she would find a good-looking man, dance with him and get them both excited with some belly-rubbing, hip-grinding slow dances. Then I would pretend to pick her up, and we would go home and have wild pa.s.sionate s.e.x. The good-looking stranger would stir up her emotions and I would reap the benefits. I tried to get her to act out this scenario, but she nixed the idea, saying that it was a fantasy and should remain just that.

Let me tell you a little about Rebecca. She is about five feet five inches, one hundred twenty-three pounds, and has a beautiful body, with small but firm b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and legs that are indescribable. She always gets second and third looks from guys, especially when showing off her body in something revealing-which I always urge her to do. She has bought lots of short skirts and shorts to display her a.s.sets. She says she does it for me, but I believe she enjoys it also. I am proud to be seen with her.

I work at a supply house, and had been there for many years when a guy named. George came along and was given a cushy outside sales job, with a high-dollar income and lots of other perks. He was about thirty, and he hadn't worked his way up the ladder of success as I had, but was given the job because of politics and family ties. He was good-looking and a smooth talker, with a lot of charisma about him. I resented him at first, but after a while we became friends, and because of him my life became more interesting.

After we got to know each other, our families began spending time together. George's wife's name was Grade, and they had two children. Our wives enjoyed each other and our children played well together.

Shortly after coming to work with us George joined a local gym and started working out with weights and taking a karate cla.s.s. Evidently he had done this before, because he was in tiptop shape already, lean and muscular, with very little body fat.

I had piddled around with weights before, but not seriously. George kept encouraging me to be his workout partner, and finally I decided to give it a try. George encouraged me to work hard at it, and after a few months the results began to show. My wife noticed this, and decided she wanted to work out with us, if we would help her. I discussed it with George, and he said to bring her along. By this time George had a part-time job as a trainer and overseer at the gym, and he said he would help bring Rebecca along slowly.

At first Rebecca dressed very conservatively for our workout sessions, wearing long loose shorts and one of my T-shirts that was about three sizes too big for her. The three of us worked out together, and George gave her some tips about proper diet and toning up.

As fine as Rebecca already looked, she soon started looking even better. In fact, she looked terrific. Working out seemed to agree with her, not only physically but mentally also. She began to dress more s.e.xily, in tights and low-cut tops, and even in skimpy shorts. Needless to say, she had everyone's attention. She had that sensuous, sultry look, and she loved it.

I soon noticed that George seemed to be paying extra-close attention to my pretty wife. Sometimes he would "accidentally" touch her b.r.e.a.s.t.s while helping her on or off an exercise machine, or brush her p.u.s.s.y through her tights while helping with leg extensions. When he spotted her as she did bench presses, he would stand directly over her, his c.o.c.k just inches away from her luscious mouth.

When I mentioned this to Rebecca she just brushed it off as no big deal. She never tried to avoid his touch, and in fact she always asked him to spot her when she did the bench presses. She wouldn't admit that having his c.o.c.k that close to her was a turn-on for her, but I wasn't fooled. They were playing a little game with each other, but I felt that I was the winner, because after every work-out Rebecca would be very h.o.r.n.y, and would screw my brains out.

One day it became obvious to me that the stakes in the game were getting higher. Rebecca was doing squats, with the bar behind her neck. On her final set George jumped over to help her.