The Vacation Wife by David Stone (best selling autobiographies TXT) 📕

“Harold said something about there being more there, but he didn’t tell me what it was.”

“God, maybe they’ve been with another couple!”

“I don’t know about that. I really don’t know what he could have referring to.”

“I admit, the idea of being naked in a sauna with other men kind of excites me. I mean, with them seeing me naked. Is there something wrong with me?”

“I doubt it. Maybe it’s just a kink.” I grabbed my phone from my jacket and Googled “kinky”. We looked at the screen together.

“Twisted?” she said. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“No. That’s referring to a string or wire, as in ‘twisted’. This is what we’re looking for, slang. ‘Marked by unconventional sexual preferences’.”

“Hmm,” said Susan. “Unconventional doesn’t sound so bad, but is it a sexual preference? Isn’t it more like a pre-sex thing? Something to get your mojo going before you have sex?”

“Probably. You can do that with fantasies too. You don’t have to do anything there but imagine things.”

“Yeah. Do you have any fantasies you haven’t shared with me?”

“Gosh, I don’t know… Does the idea of someone watching us have sex do anything for you?”

Susan stared into the distance to give it a good think. “It’s not not working for me.”

“You could see it?” Her comment sent signals through my brain of a very peculiar nature. They were unfamiliar to me as if occurring in new chambers previously immune to my mental processes. Perhaps neurons were like movers, and they were shifting furniture out of my fantasy chambers into a more proactive zone.

“Kind of,” she said. “I mean, I could see it being something.”

“That you’d like to do?” I feared I put too much urgency in my voice with that one.

“Well, again, we’re speaking hypothetically, right? In that sense, sure, but would I ever do it? No. I mean, I don’t think so.” She grabbed my phone and tapped away.

“No… We’re okay,” she said, after tapping, scrolling, and reading.

“What did you find?”

“I looked up fetish. Neither of us has one as far as I can tell. We don’t need anything specific to get off, and I’m not an exhibitionist. I don’t need to do it. It’s not a compulsion. If I find it exciting, it doesn’t mean I have to do it, even if I like it. I guess finding a few things ‘kinky’ is okay. I mean, we all have fetishes, don’t we? When you got home and took off your suit jacket and loosened your tie, what did I say? Something like, ew, nice! It turns me on to see you undressing, especially when you’re wearing a suit. The idea of someone watching us make love—that turns me on a little. But I don’t have to do it. Do you see? We’re on safe ground here.”

She was making sense, and I felt better, as the idea that I could be slumming mentally wasn’t a comfortable one. We weren’t abnormal, we were just open to new ideas. If they worked, fine, and they were clearly optional. Neither of us suffered from compulsions to do anything.

That took the pressure off.

“Let’s do it,” said Susan.

“Do what?”

“Make love right here.” She stood and went to the curtains, which we closed at night for privacy, and opened them as wide as they would go. This meant Greg could look right into our living room. The lights were on in his own living room and kitchen.

Susan turned on all of our lamps and overhead spots. I didn’t realize we had so many lights. We seldom turned on more than one or two. She stood in front of the sofa and undressed completely. I stood and followed suit.

Whether Greg was watching us was now irrelevant. He clearly could if he wanted to, and this excited both of us. Susan pulled the coffee table away from the sofa so its accessories wouldn’t obscure his view, thus demonstrating she was really into this idea of being watched while making love.

Once that was done, she smiled at me, her face beaming as her eyes betrayed her excitement.

She turned me sideways to the window and bent in front of me. As she went to her knees, she took my cock in her mouth. Anyone looking in the window would have had no question about what was occurring in our living room. A woman was giving a man a blowjob. Unlike her usual routine, she was very animated, bobbing her head back and forth over my cock rather than focusing on just the tip. It was a lovely variation.

As she was taking me nearly to the brink, and in record time, I tapped her shoulder.

“Honey, this is going to be over soon if you don’t stop.”

She released me, stood, and gave me a protracted embrace with her arms around my neck as her warm belly pressed into my cock.

When we broke from our embrace, she directed me to the sofa and told me to sit. The next bit really surprised me. She stood over me on the sofa, put both knees on its cushioned back, and balanced herself in such a way as to land her puss directly on my face. Though this move occurred without accompanying instructions, I knew what to do. As soon as my tongue reached its target, she released heavenly moans and began rubbing herself back and forth over my tongue. She used the chest behind the sofa for leverage as she hastened her pace.

From Greg’s perspective, he would see my wife’s naked ass in front of my face as she gyrated over it. Also, he would see my naked cock standing alert and hungry for attention. The idea of Greg seeing my wife’s naked ass sent me into overdrive.

We were fully in sync. She pulled herself away, turned around, and sat on my cock with her back facing me. This angle meant I was going very deep, and her moans mixed in with her commentary.

“Oh, honey! Oh my God! Slow,