I could picture myself doing it with her—and yet it was a first date. She was excited like she’d never been with me before, I was a near-stranger, an exciting mystery man—not the safe soulmate whose long-time companionship and cozy familiarity had diluted the sexual thrill.
And yet at the same time there was an underlying sense of wrongness, of the taboo—because this was another man making her so excited, touching her intimately and getting close to a full seduction. She was cheating on me, albeit with my blessing. That dark wickedness underneath everything just made things seem that much hotter to me, it’s hard to adequately explain.
With every text from her I felt as though I was climbing high on a rollercoaster, getting closer and closer to the top before the first death-defying drop.
[Gemma]: We’re in the Infinity nightclub, BTW.
[Michael]: Dancing close? ;-)
[Gemma]: Very close :-P Even if I hadn’t seen him naked already, I’d have a good idea of what he’s offering
[Michael]: Don’t drink too much, you want to enjoy it when it happens.
[Gemma]: When ‘it’ happens? :-D
[Michael]: Well, okay. When he takes you back to his place and fucks you like crazy. :-P
[Gemma]: Switched to water a while back :-) Okay, more dancing... xxx
There were a few more exchanges like these while they were at the club. When Aaron, or Gemma, went to get more drinks. When one or other went to the bathroom. She told me that he’d let her put her hands inside his underpants to touch the beast within. I learned that she’d allowed him to slip his fingers inside her panties while they danced. He’d touched her, he’d stroked her, he’d dipped the tip of a finger inside her.
I could feel her excitement through her words, and it was as though I was doing it. The closest I could come to explaining it was that I knew I had enabled it all—I had allowed her to take this date of hers the full distance. I had encouraged her to let go and enjoy it all.
She was testing me—I could also sense that. Each time she started texting me again, I knew she had taken things a tiny step further with Aaron. She was checking with me to see where my boundaries lay—or if I had boundaries at all. If I no longer seemed into it, or if I actively started urging her to stop, she would know that she could go no further, that my fantasy only went so far.
But I had no intention of stopping her.
[Gemma]: He wants to take me back to his place. Is that okay?
[Michael]: Of course it is. Woo-hoo!
[Gemma]: Are you sure about this?
[Michael]: Totally sure. You? You really don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.
[Gemma]: I want to if you do.
[Michael]: I want you to.
[Gemma]: Great, we’re going to get a taxi xxx
Despite how hot I’d found all her flirting, I’d been fairly calm since the date had started. Now, though, my heart rate soared again. My cock, which had been hard on-and-off all evening, now felt like iron and began to throb. My wife was going home with a handsome stranger. A younger man, albeit only by a few years. Was she safe? I had to believe she was—Aaron wasn’t just any stranger, he was a stranger from a TV show. He couldn’t treat Gemma badly—they had to do one last exit interview for the show in six or seven weeks’ time to show how the relationship had developed.
[Gemma]: We’re in the taxi.
[Michael]: Where does he live?
[Gemma]: Clapham. Around Lavender Hill somewhere.
[Michael]: Nice. Won’t take too long to get to.
I sensed her nerves—perhaps for the first time—as she texted me from the taxi.
[Gemma]: He says his flatmates are out
[Michael]: That’s fortunate ;-)
[Gemma]: You know I love you, right? No matter what happens.
[Michael]: Of course I do. And I love you no matter what happens.
[Gemma]: You haven’t had any doubts have you? You’d tell me if you did?
[Michael]: No doubts at all. I want you to have so much fun, you don’t have to worry about me.
I kept waiting for her to sign off, saying she wouldn’t be able to text any more because they were going into Aaron’s flat. But she kept texting.
[Gemma]: What if he wants me to stay the night?
[Michael]: Then if you want to stay, stay. If you don’t want to stay, come home. You just have to say you have to get up in the morning for a shift at the hospital.
[Gemma]: I suppose so.
[Michael]: He didn’t seem to me like the kind of guy who would be angry if you had to leave.
[Gemma]: No, he’s a sweetheart.
[Michael]: Sounds like you really like him.
[Gemma]: He’s nice.
[Michael]: Good. You’ll have fun with him.
[Gemma]: Yeah, I will. I kind of wish you could be here to see, though. You’re so into this apparently.
[Michael]: It would be hot—but I can wait to hear about how it went xxx
Then, entirely unexpected:
[Gemma]: How would you feel if you could watch us?
[Michael]: That would be great—you know what I’d think.
[Gemma]: What would you say if I told you Aaron likes having fun with a webcam?
[Michael]: Having fun? What does that mean?
[Gemma]: Like... stripping off... fooling around.
[Michael]: Like having sex in front of a camera?
[Gemma]: Maybe.
This confused me, but did nothing to threaten my excitement levels. Was she saying I might be able to watch them?
[Michael]: What are you saying? You told him you’re married? That I’m into this?
[Gemma]: No, nothing like that.
[Michael]: But you think he’d want me to watch via webcam?
[Gemma]: You... and maybe other guys.
Woah. There was my erection raging again, threatening to come early and spoil the party. What was my wife saying? She would have sex with him in front of a webcam—but where did the other guys come into the picture? Nevertheless, it sounded hot.
[Michael]: What are you talking about? It sounds hot if only I could fully understand...
[Gemma]: There are these websites where people can go and watch other people on webcams.
[Michael]: People can watch people having sex?
[Gemma]: Yeah, or just taking off their clothes, or whatever. But it’s not porn, it’s not porn actors or anything, it’s just ordinary people.
[Michael]: And Aaron’s done this before?
[Gemma]: He had a girlfriend in his Freshman year at college who liked to strip off in front of the camera. Sometimes he joined her. He said it was pretty hot.
[Michael]: So this is something you’d want to do?
[Gemma]: It sounds kinda hot :-P
Nine
I was aware that certain people like to sit in front of webcams and strip off, and fool around, and so on. You see little clips on porn sites all the time, only they’re ethically pretty murky because some of them seem like they were leaked by disgruntled ex-partners, or something like that. I guess my assumption was that a lot of them were explicit chatting between girlfriend and boyfriend or husband and wife. A kind of Skype thing or FaceTime call that got recorded and then was later submitted to a porn website.
My wife and I have been rarely apart since we were married—a couple of times when her mother was sick and she went to help take care of her, sure, but little else I can remember. Neither of us really travel for work. So there’s never really been any reason for us to talk to each other over Skype or FaceTime or any other kind of video communications system. I think even if there had been opportunity, it wouldn’t have descended into anything vaguely erotic. The thing was, before that damn TV dating show came along, neither of us had shared any real sexual fantasies with each other. We weren’t like that. That’s why it was so surprising the way Gemma acted on that show.
But now, it seemed, Pandora’s box was well and truly open. I had discovered my fantasy of
sharing my wife, and she had found a hidden exhibitionist streak.
So here she was, texting me the online address for a website that featured dozens and dozens of ordinary people sitting in front of their webcams and doing things that would have gotten you slung in jail if you’d done in front of a window lacking curtains. I mean, I almost couldn’t believe my wife would even bring herself to visit such a site—and yet, after exposing herself in that TV studio, and getting off on that, somehow this seemed totally appropriate.
Okay, so it was a well-known adult chatting website—I’d heard of it, and that kind of thing had never really been my bag before. The website offered a grid full of webcam images of men and women apparently chatting in little or no clothes in front of their webcams at that particular moment. There had to be hundreds, maybe even thousands of them judging by the fact that the bottom of the page linked to the next few pages of webcams or page 31. There was an option at the top to select ‘couple’ and filter the list to couples only. I still didn’t see them. Boy, there were a lot of people into this.
My phone buzzed with a text from Gemma:
[Gemma]: Not quite there yet. Aaron still setting up. Xxx
I waited. Then:
[Gemma]: Okay, go on the site!
I went back on the website, and selected couples’ cameras, and scrolled down. It took me a while to find them, but I felt like I couldn’t text her to ask her more details on where to find them. Eventually, a few pages along, there they were. I recognized Gemma staring out of one of the webcam images—and there was a shirtless Aaron, standing beside her. It just about knocked me for six. God. I clicked on the picture, and it took me to a new page featuring a large image from Aaron’s webcam and, beside it, a chatroom box. Viewers were already chatting, offering compliments about Gemma and demanding various sex acts.
Boy, was it hot to see her there in someone else’s bedroom, beside a new man. She did look different with her blonde hair, but it still made me wonder how dangerous this was with respect to people recognizing her, maybe threatening her, blackmailing her and so on. I tried not to think about it—they were at Aaron’s place, in Aaron’s bedroom. She was in a new dress, there was nothing that could identify her as being my Gemma.
‘Yeah, it’s my first time,’ Gemma was saying, looking a little bashful at the camera as Aaron started peeling off her dress to reveal her scarlet lace bra and a whole lot of flesh. Gemma flinched and giggled as he crouched to help her step out of the dress and apparently kissed her legs somewhere.
‘Thank you. Sure. You like that?’
‘Yeah. I think so.’
They looked hot together, standing there slightly nervously. They did look like a couple, like they were comfortable in each other’s company, though there was a strange tension that had to come from the fact that this was basically a first date. Aaron did look younger than me, but Gemma didn’t look older than him even if she did have five years on him. Perhaps that would also help conceal her identity.
For a while, they weren’t doing a lot. Standing there, reading what people were saying on screen, answering a few here and there orally. Aaron occasionally reaching out to cup Gemma’s breasts. Gemma stepping back so you could see her panties. After a while, Aaron removed his jeans to reveal checked boxer shorts. He was certainly in shape—he wasn’t a juicer, but he wasn’t a stranger to the gym either. Gemma clearly liked the look of him, frequently throwing glances his way, checking him out. Toying with her hair flirtatiously.
Watching them, I managed to keep calm, mostly. She reached out to touch the bulge in his pants, and my heart rate rose. Then it settled a little. She stepped back so that her body was pressed against his chest, his arms reaching forward to cup her breasts, then slide all down her body—and my heart rate picked up again.
‘Thank you, guys. Any requests?’
She kissed him, and my heart rate soared.
I couldn’t believe I was watching this. Gemma seemed nervous, but excited. She was acting out a fantasy—exhibitionism. She was with someone new. She wasn’t certain about it all, but she wasn’t holding back.
Aaron slipped off his boxer shorts, and now he was naked beside my wife. I could see at the top of the chat box that 958 people were currently watching them. There was something where people could tip them tokens—I wasn’t sure what all that was about, but Aaron and Gemma seemed to be attracting plenty of tips already.
I have to say, it did all take a while. They were taking their time, and I sensed that Gemma was just getting used to it all.
At last, we all watched her crouch down in front of Aaron, and my wife kissed the tip of his cock—before sucking it into her mouth. Oh God. He was completely hairless down there—it emphasized his size, I thought. She seemed to enjoy it. I felt the jealousy flare inside my chest, a burst of intense heat—and yet my own cock was hard as stone, and throbbing away.
After a few moments, Gemma stood up again to adjust the camera downward, so that it was easier to see her down there by his crotch. Then she was on her knees again, taking his hardness in her mouth, bobbing up and down on it while he held her hair out of the way.
She looked so thrilled, taking this different cock. She must have thought nothing like this could ever happen again after getting married. Now she was taking his cock as though it was treasure she’d uncovered at the end of a grueling expedition. She looked upon it in awe, licked it with reverence, took it as deep into her mouth as she could, to please him and extract valuable groans from her lover. She slipped it out and pressed it between her small breasts, rubbing it up and down her soft, warm flesh.
Aaron moaned and stroked her hair, but his eyes kept wandering over to their computer to check out the public responses. Gemma went down on him for a long while, but she didn’t make him come. Then she was back on her feet, in front of the computer screen to see what everyone was saying about her and Aaron.
I remember glancing at the clock on my computer screen, and seeing that it was 1am already. Where had all the time gone? It was racing by, with Aaron and Gemma seeming to do very little. I’d say it was a good thing for me—giving me time to adjust to the sight of my wife being with someone else—except that because time seemed to be racing along, it really wasn’t that much time to get used to it.
I think in all this, what I wasn’t expecting was all the time spent interacting with the people watching. There was a fair while where the two of them were just sitting there, or standing there in front of the computer, reading comments and responding to them. And they were generally telling the truth when they answered people, it seemed.
‘Yeah, Aaron and I just met... this is kind of our first date... I mean, I suppose we had lunch together before... but this was our first night out together.’
‘No, we never did it before.’
I didn’t read the chat comments too closely, since a lot of them were either unintelligible, outright abusive or just plain weird, but Aaron and Gemma seemed to find it fun to sift through them for the more genuine commenters.
After a long while in which the two of them did little other than touch each other and kiss, with Gemma spending a fair amount of time sucking on her new date’s cock, Aaron went off screen for a while—I’m assuming to use the facilities or fetch them both drinks.
Gemma shifted the camera angle a little, so that there was a good view of Aaron’s desk chair and his large queen-size bed.
Still wearing her crimson bra and panties and those stockings and garters, she looked incredible.
‘You like them? That’s sweet. Yeah, I bought them specially for my date...’
She was just chatting to people.
‘He went to the bathroom!’
So, that answered that.
‘Yeah, I fuck guys on first dates—doesn’t everyone?’
She did seem to be delaying things now, I had to admit. I wondered if she was getting cold feet—I mean, she was having a lot of fun with this, parading herself and fooling around with a naked Aaron, an
d it was exciting for her to be able to play and lick and kiss and suck on a cock that was not that of her husband’s for once... but I was sensing that she was a touch nervous as to whether she should go further.
I couldn’t text her, I didn’t think, but it did suddenly dawn on me that like the hundreds of others, I was perfectly free to sign up for a free account with the website—and then chat with Gemma and Aaron myself.
It didn’t take long to set up an account, using the slightly quirky screen name of ‘Hubbyofyours’. Was that too obvious? But I felt sure Aaron wouldn’t be suspecting anything—as far as he was concerned, Gemma was single, so my screen name couldn’t refer to anything. Would Gemma get what the name referred to? Would she figure out it was really me?
I had an idea. I tapped out a comment on the chat board beside the image of Gemma on my screen:
Hubbyofyours: You look so hot with him, Cupcake.
Cupcake. It wasn’t what most husbands called their wives. I’d started out calling Gemma ‘Cupcake’ back before we were married, ever since an incident in which she’d attended the launch party of a new cupcake business that one of her affluent friends had started up. She’d had too much Champagne and way too many cupcakes, and ended up stumbling home all tipsy with butter icing smeared all over her. That had actually ended up as a hot night for us after I had started teasing her about being a cupcake herself, and she had taken the battered box of cupcakes she’d brought home for me, stripped off and covered her more intimate parts in sweet butter icing.
A Wife on Show Page 8
