Share Him

 

I came into the bedroom, saw my wife and her boyfriend kissing passionately. I wasn't sure what to do; she'd told me to check with them to see if they needed anything before I went to the basement for the night, but I wasn't supposed to interrupt them either. I was about to back up quietly when she sensed me, broke off the kiss, looked over at me.

"What?" she asked, a hint of irritation in her voice.

"You...you told me to...to check in before I...before I went to the basement," I said.

He looked over at me then back at my wife. "You want some wine?" he asked.

"Sure," she said.

He looked back at me. "Why don't you get us a bottle of wine," he said, "that Sauvignon Blanc she likes."

"O...okay," I said, backing out of the room as she watched me.

When I came back with the opened bottle of wine and two glasses, she was still on top of him, but this time naked, but for her thong, kissing him more passionately than before. He had one hand around her neck, pulling her to him, the other cupped one of her breasts. She was slowly grinding herself on him, moaning softly as he moved her pussy up and down the thick bulge in his pants.

I wanted to stay, to watch, but knew he didn't allow that, knew I was pressing my luck just the extra moment I lingered.

It was hours later I heard soft footsteps coming down the basement stairs, saw my wife, naked still except for the thong, a glass of wine in her hand. "M...Monica," I said, looking down, afraid at being chastised for staring at her mostly naked body.

"Sweetie," she said, holding the glass to me like a peace offering.

"Is...is he gone?" I asked.

She shook her head. "He fell asleep," she said, "I assume he's spending the night." 

"Oh," I said, my voice betraying my emotions.

"You're not supposed to linger," she said.

"I...I know," I said, taking a sip of the now room temperature wine. "I just...seeing you like that, I...I tried not to, but I...it's so erotic, it's like watching...watching a movie."

She smiled. "I know," she said, flattered. "He just...it's a power thing. He knows you want to watch so he won't let you just to...I don't know...just to tease you."

"He saw me?"

She nodded. "Of course; we both did. He was about to say something but let you have you're little voyeur moment. And I, well, that's why I was moving my hips on him."

"You look so...so pretty in his arms," I said.

"Move down," she said.

"Down?"

She nudged me, I moved flat on the couch, moved to the side to give her room next to me. "Sweetie, no, I told you, he's spending the night. If I fall asleep down here with you, he'll be furious."

"Sorry," I said.

"It's okay, he's out, so I have a minute if you want to..." She took a step forward so she was standing next to my head, her panties practically in my face. 

"Monica," I gasped, realizing what she meant.

"Don't worry, he said it was okay," she said.

"Monica," I said again as I blushed deeply, horrified my wife was discussing my deepest, darkest fantasy with her lover.

"I told you, he likes power things," she said, climbing on my, hovering over my face. "What's more powerful than sending me back to you full of him.

"Mon..." I started to say for the last time, silenced as pulled her thong to one side and lowered her cum filled pussy to my mouth. 

"Shhhh," she said, "open, love, open...be careful, there's so much."

She wasn't lying about it, for when I licked her, when she relaxed her inner muscles, thick gobs of his cum fell from her pussy into my mouth and I wondered how he could produce so much. 

When I was done, when I'd licked her to orgasm, when I'd licked everything she offered, she climbed off then kissed me as she'd kissed him, but different, one a prelude to sex, this a sharing of the aftermath.

"This is better than watching, isn't it?" she asked.

"M...maybe," I said.

"Cleaning my lover's cum from me..."

"Monica..."

"Shhh," she said, "I know it's humiliating, but it's so erotic, tasting him together..."

"Monica..."

"I like it," she said, "looking down, seeing your face as you eat cum."

"Oh god, Monica..."

"Do you like it?" she asked.

"M...Monica..."

She reached back, touched my through my boxers, lightly stroked my erection. "Do you like the taste of his cum, love, do you like licking him from me, do you like tasting it, swallowing it?"

"Monica, I...I shouldn't..."

"Shhhh," she said, "I want to think about it when he's fucking me, I want to think about it when he's filling me, I want to think about how much my husband wants to eat my lover's cum." She moved her hand, stopped touching me.

"Mon, please," I begged, "don't...don't stop..."

"No, love, no, I'm his now, his, but we can share him like this again."