Jim panted, shaking also. “Yes. I want to see his cock in your hands.”
It was coming fast. “You want me to jack his shaft until he cums?”
“Oh, yeah...” He slammed his erection in deep and she felt the hot wetness spread through her. It was too much. She cried out as she felt the tension tipping. Convulsions wracked her body as she thrust back hard on her husband's shaft. Her face hit the cushion and she wailed in a quivering voice.
She had stopped squirming. Jim was the only thing that kept her somewhat on her knees. She floated on waves of bliss and release.
Carlene put her magazine down as Jim climbed into bed. Would he talk?
“You've got a look on your face,” he said.
I swear I will beat him with this magazine. “About earlier...”
“Hmm?” His eyebrows said he expected some disappointment.
How do I bring this up? How embarrassing. And he's just laying there like I'm about to give a speech. “Why would you want to see my hand on someone else's dick?”
He leaned up on an elbow. “I might. Depends. But because I think you're sexy--”
“Oh don't start lying now.”
“That's not a lie.”
She rolled her eyes.
“If I thought you were ugly, I wouldn't want to see you stroke another man.”
“What's that got to do with anything?”
“Everything. Seeing you being sexy with another man would be the ultimate turn-on.”
“Says who?” Where did he get these ideas?
“Says me.”
I dunno. “Hmm.”
“You enjoyed yourself up there today,” he said.
“Well, that was all talk.”
“But it turned you on.”
Of course it did. Russel has a very nice-looking dick. “Only because you were playing with me.”
He wagged a finger at her.
Jerk. You definitely are reading my mind, aren't you? “Don't get all uppity--”
“Uppity? Me?”
“Yes, you. How do I know you're telling me the truth?”
“Why in the world would I lie to you?”
Because I don't understand? And I'm afraid to admit I like watching Russel masturbate? And the thought of me stroking him made me cum?
* * *
But the very next day, she was right back upstairs, stripped and waiting.
They sipped rum together. The neighbors hadn't come out.
She wanted to send brainwaves over to the other house like some telepathic martian and tell them to come out. They would come marching out, their arms straight out, hands hanging. Eyes closed.
What if they walked into the pool? Silly girl, stop daydreaming.
But she wasn't sure she was ready to bring up the subject again. Surely Jim would have dropped the idea of her touching another man. How ridiculous.
Both were disappointed, having finished their drinks, that there wasn't going to be a show today.
“Maybe they're inside getting nasty,” Jim said.
She pouted.
A frustrated Carlene climbed into bed.
Her husband had other ideas. He placed that small box of toys on the nightstand and pulled out a vibrating dildo they hadn't used yet.
She giggled. Partly from relief, partly excitement. All week she had waited to see two shows. She had only gotten one. It was enough to make her want to pull out her hair. Was she going to suffer this coming week, too? And what if the neighbors decided that everything nasty they did was only indoors now?
He smiled and turned on the obscene-looking thing. It was a full cock and even had balls.
“What are you going to--”
“I'm going to play with my wife.”
He climbed into bed. Touching it to her clit, he licked her ear.
Shivers ran up and down her back and arms and hair. She squealed.
His smile said he approved. “You were mopey all day.”
“Maybe it's my period coming.”
He smirked.
Jerk. Stoppit.
“I think you missed getting the show.” He rubbed the thing up and down her slit.
She gazed down at it. It was very obscene. She spread her legs.
“You missed seeing Russel's cock.”
I sure did. What a crappy Sunday. “I guess so.”
He rubbed it around her clit. “You wanted to see him stroke himself.”
Most definitely. “Maybe.” The vibrations were making her squirm.
“You wanted to imagine your hand on him.”
She moaned and squirmed more.
“You wanted to imagine feeling the hot pulse of his shaft.”
She gasped and moved her hips in circles. The bastard was going to make her cum with that obscene toy.
He reached over and grabbed their oil. He lubed up the head and shaft of the dildo. He touched it back to her clit. “You wanted to imagine making him cum.”
“Mmm, yes.” The coils tightened. The jerk knew what to say.
“You want to touch his cock.”
Yes.
“You want to stroke it for him.”
Yes.
“You want to feel his hard cock in your hand.”
“Yes, mmm.” The room was tightening around her.
He worked the dildo at her opening. “I bought this one because it looked the most like Russel's cock.”
He shoved it deep into her pussy.
Her orgasm was hard, long, and exhausting.
CHAPTER 4
Carlene so hated Mondays.
Dreary, dreary, dreary.
She sipped her coffee and found it only warm. She took a huge gulp.
Why was her husband being so nasty lately? Had the neighbors inspired him? Had he found it a turn-on to watch other people? Had he always been like that?
She bundled together three sheetmetal bids for the HVAC ducting at Number Fifteen. It was their latest hotel and they had run out of superintendents for this region. One had been hired from corporate and was being sent.
She finished her coffee.
Did her husband really want to see her touch Russel's dick? The idea made her fidget. Sure, the talk was all sexy and nasty, but she really did not want to touch the neighbor’s manhood.
Well, I do, but...
She just wasn't into bald men. Even with a bit of hair around the edges, Russel was simply not her type. She liked hair. It might be fun to imagine touching him, but in reality? No way.
She dropped the bundle onto Eric's desk.
His feet were up and he was talking and yakking strange corporate stuff she did not want to hear. He sure is handsome.
“We'll just sit down and--”
She blocked him out. Corporate-speak did nothing for her. In fact, such talk ruined any mood she had. Everything could be accomplished by sitting down, apparently. We'll just sit down and build this hotel.
She smiled to herself and left the office.
Lunch for her was something of a break. She felt a little better, though her questions about her husband multiplied like viral pop-ups on a computer.
She liked to grab a small can of cashews for lunch at the grocery store every day. It was the same store they used from home. Work was only five miles away. Two off-ramps and home. Or work going the other way.
She wandered into the cool store and relished the air conditioning.
She just could not get into bald men. Never. Not happening. Even thinking about it gave her a grimace. She had been small, holding her mother's hand. They had been at the hospital for something and were leaving. Riding the elevator down, a fat, balding man had waddled in next to them. The ride down was a constant series of flatulent bursts that smelled very, very bad.
He must have had some condition. But she could remember gagging.
Bald men, no.
She realized she was standing near the nuts, and there was a young man next to her. He was new, a stocker, and was stocking her cashews from a box.
Now why couldn't the neighbor look like this young man? He was tall, had a nice head of hair, and a pleasing face. Sort of like her husband.
Then she realized they were looking at each other. She with a wistful smile and he with a curious smile.
His nameplate said “Andy.”
“Oh, sorry,” she said.
“No, excuse me, were you wanting something from here?” He moved without waiting for an answer.
“Uh, no. I mean, yes. Cashews.”
He flashed her a smile that made her blush.
Goodness. He's just a college kid. She grabbed her nuts and fled.
She filed the last of her papers away for the day.
She wondered again what Andy was like. Did he have a nice dick? Was he nice? Rude? Gentle? And then her thoughts wandered to Russel. Maybe if she put a bag over his head she could see herself touching his dick.
She squirmed in her chair.
Her pussy ached – used, toyed, and exhausted. Too many days of orgasms. But the familiar ache was there inside, the hollow feel that hungered and made her hips squirm and her thighs rub together.
Stoppit.
Out in the broader office, the other employees were standing around talking. Eric didn't like that, but it was the end of the day. Her office was separate from them and led into Eric's office. She was his poop-shield. Any crap thrown his way went through her first.
She sighed. How she would rather just be out there, being a clerk. Calling suppliers. Arranging schedules. Running to the courthouse for permits. Chatting and laughing.
Is this what I want to do the rest of my life?
No, not really.
The rest of the week stretched ahead of her, but she wasn't so much looking forward to the weekend as afraid of what Jim would say. The change in him frightened her. He really wanted to see her touch another man's dick?
“Tomorrow we need to add Rod into the payroll system.”
Her boss was talking to her. “Huh? What?”
“The new super?”
Oh. The emergency superintendent flown in to handle Number Fifteen. “Oh. Sure.”
Does Eric have a nice dick? She looked down at his crotch without thinking. Then she blushed when she realized her mistake. Well crap.
She looked away quickly, as if all one motion. Scooting back her chair, she rose.
Eric was giving her a look, some of surprise and some of pleasure. A small smile was on his face.
Don't give me that reserved sexy look.
He stepped close, until she backed into the file cabinet. He didn't make contact with her, but she could feel his heat.
Was his dick throbbing? Warm? Firming?
She almost panted at the wild thoughts. She looked one way, and then the other. Where was her escape?
“Maybe we should have lunch soon,” he said.
She figured what that meant. He would take his screws out to lunch to start, and then they would end up some days down the road screwing. Her pulse raced. Would Jim want me to touch Eric's dick?
His dark eyes gazed down into hers, confident, assured. Just like Jim's.
Her mouth opened in a pant.
“Don't be afraid,” he said.
But I am. These thoughts are so new.
He brushed her cheek with his knuckle, and then slowly dropped it down to her blouse. It passed over her nipple and she heaved a gasp. He dropped his hand down but then brought it back up. She felt the back of his finger come up between her legs and rub over her khakis. Up over her pussy and over her clit.
Another man is touching my pussy. Her body quivered, her overused pussy sending familiar signals. She moaned low, in pain and frustration. This was wrong. It wasn't right. Jim would be mad. She had to get away.
Before she knew it, she had grabbed her purse and fled.
Eric did not try to stop her; he let her go with a smile on his face.
Carlene ate dinner with shaking hands. Her glass rattled when she put it down. The rum did little to calm her nerves.
Jim was aware of her fear and very worried. “Just tell me what has you so shook-up.”
How could she tell him? How could she admit she had stood there while another man felt her up? She didn't want a divorce. “I don't want to talk about it.”
Jim looked hurt.
He was trying to be there for her but there was no way she could tell him what had happened or what she had thought. Best to forget all about it.
But the pressure built.
She downed her rum and fought back tears.
In bed, later, the dam broke. The loosening effect of the rum on her nerves and tongue and the wall against her frustration all exploded in a burst of tears. “I'm sorry, Jim--”
“Sorry for what?” His look was panicked, loving, ready for her.
“Eric touched me today and I didn't know what to do.”
“He touched you? That's all?”
“It was sexual.”
“Sexual? Eric?”
“Yes.” She sniffed, relieved at it being out and trying to clear her nose. “I told you he was flirty.”
“And this is what is making you cry?”
“Yes. I just stood there. I didn't know what to do.”
“You were afraid.” He placed a hand on her arm.
“Yes. I didn't want to hurt you.”
“Hurt me?”
“Yes, you. You're my husband and I love you.”
“Of course you do and I love you to. But why are you afraid?”
“I don't want a divorce.”
“A divorce?” He sat up. A frown plastered his face. “Why would there be a divorce?”
“Because I let another man touch me. I should have fought and screamed.”
He pulled her head into his shoulder and hugged her. “I'm not going to divorce you, silly.”
She wanted to gibber with joy, relief and fright.
“Why don't you tell me what happened?”
Sure, but I can't tell you about Andy and daydreaming about his dick. No way. “I was thinking about the whole weekend show thing and what you thought about me touching Russel.”
“Oh?” He sounded pleased.
“Eric came out and said something about payroll, but I was still thinking about Russel's dick.”
“This sounds good.”
Good? Huh? I'm thinking about another man's dick and you like it? “Uh, well, I looked down at Eric's pants and he saw it.”
Jim laughed as if at a good joke.
Jerk, why are you laughing? “This isn't funny.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No it isn't. I got up to leave but he cornered me against the file cabinet.”
“This sounds very good.”
“But I was scared. I didn't know what to do.”
“Did he hurt you?” His voice was suddenly serious. Low. Even dangerous.
“Hurt? What? No.”
“Hmm, okay. Go on, then.”
“He brushed my hair back with his hand and then lowered it down to my breast and brushed it on the way down.”
“Mmm, nice.” His breathing became louder.
“I thought he was just going for a quick feel to see I had nothing and it was all over. But he brought his hand back up and he ran his finger over my...”
Jim was panting.
“Are you okay?” she said. “Are you mad?”
“I'm okay and no I'm not mad. What happened next?” He reached down under the covers.
Was he playing with himself?
The covers moved.
He was. “Well, his finger brushed over my pussy--”
He moaned. The covers moved more.
She pulled back the cover and frowned. He was stroking his shaft. “This turns you on?”
“Mmm, yes, this sounds nasty. What else happened?”
“But I was scared. I didn't know what to do.”
“So you let him touch you.” His hand stroked faster.
“Well, yes, but only because I was afraid.”<
br />
“Aw.” He kissed her ear. “I don't want you to be afraid.”
“I didn't want to end our marriage.”
“You're not going to end anything by letting Eric touch you. What else happened? He touched your pussy?”
“Yes and then he rubbed over my clit.”
“Oh yes, did it feel good?” His hand squeezed his shaft and leakage came out of the end. He used it to stroke. His gliding hand made wet sounds.
Despite her trepidation over the whole day, her pussy clenched at the sight. He was turned on? Deciding to be bold, she said, “Yes, it did.”
“Ahh, yeah.” His hand became a blur. His erection swelled and he jetted spurts of cum into the air.
Wow, he really does like it.
* * *
Her cycle hit and ruined her weekend. She had ducked and dodged Eric all week, afraid of what might happen. She had fielded Jim's questions with honesty; she was afraid of this new change in him.
He had spent every night telling her how much he loved her and also how much it turned him on that Eric had touched her. He told her how good it made him feel that another man admired her and found her desirable.
Throughout the week, her own lust returned – her pussy having had a break. Then Wednesday she knew her weekend was ruined. She had watched Jim masturbate twice more and then helped him on Friday as she related once again Eric's touching of her.
The pulse and jerk of his shaft in her hand during orgasm was a reminder that she would be doing nothing. Hot as it was, she pouted.
Saturday she led him upstairs and he took the dormer seat. She settled on the love seat and watched him.
“Alicia is out,” he said. He started fondling himself. His erection grew quickly.
She pouted. Well, I guess he can stroke himself while looking at her pussy as long as I'm here.
He stroked slow and groaned a few times. “There's Russel. She's stripping.”
She watched his hand stroke faster. It made her pussy ache. “Can you see her pussy?”
“No, not yet.”
“Is Russel jacking himself?”
“Not yet, but he's removing his shorts.”
She pouted more. She wanted to see his dick again. She wanted to see him stroke it.
The Sharing of Carlene Page 3
