Posted this story previously so it might be familiar to some, but I thought it needed some editing and re-organizing. It is told from three points of view, the first two are included in this chapter.
I thrust into my wife one more time and felt her muscles tightening and spasming as she came the second time that afternoon. Her knees gave out underneath her and as she lay there flat on her tummy, skin glistening with the light sheen, muscles twitching, I could see the pink of her pussy clenching. My cock throbbed longing to return to the warmth of what I’d be missing for the next twelve months … but I couldn’t, not yet. I had a plan and for it to work, I had to have her in the right frame of mind, and I only had a weekend to get it there.
My wife and I had been married for three years and in that time, I had been fortunate enough not to be sent off to some far-flung country. We had met at a friend’s wedding. She was the photographer’s assistant and I, one of the groomsmen. The attraction was instant and within a few short weeks we couldn’t bear to be away from each other for more than a day. Our engagement was short by most standards and after enjoying years of marital bliss, we had just decided to start trying for a child when the deployment orders came. All I can say is she was on a mission to have my child inside her before I left.
We had what I could say was a more than average sex life thanks to my wife and her fantasies – not that I am complaining. Many men hope for a partner who is open enough to share their most outrageous fantasies with and I had found that person in Wanja. There were days she couldn’t wait until I got out of my uniform before she had my cock out and in her mouth. That’s one of the many things she was good at – smooth strokes, enough moisture, suction, and the occasional hum to set me on edge.
There is a common fear among the deployed that when they were away, another soldier would be busy corrupting their wife or girlfriend. As much as I trusted Wanja, I knew that her sex drive was high, and I didn’t want her to stray or suffer while I was away and hence my plan.
Okolla was a good friend I had known since I enlisted in the military in my early twenties. It had been a comfort to know that there was another person from my hometown going through the same process at the time. He was a year older than I was, well-groomed and mannered, and most importantly single as he had just ended a year long relationship. He was not one to sleep around with the young girls who were known to fling themselves at military men. He was also a man I could trust to take care of my wife in more ways than one. I also knew from the many conversations between us that he found her very attractive. I just had to sell the idea to him without having him think I had lost my mind.
I’d asked Okolla to meet me at the house to help with a few things before I left, and his timing was perfect. When the doorbell rang, I’d just withdrawn from her and was gently rubbing her clit along the length of my cock listening to her moans. I made sure her blind fold was still on, told her to stay in place and quickly tied a wrap around my waist and headed for the door with my heart beating loudly in my chest.
Okolla gave me a quizzical look when I opened the door, and I really can’t blame him. Here he was ready to get to work yet I was standing there sweaty and not dressed. I motioned him in and walked him to my study, poured him a quick drink and let him have it. I had a naked, horny woman upstairs and had no time to hint and cajole, he was either in or out. The incredulous look on his face was priceless but when I was done, all he did was ask if I was sure and upon my confirmation, he gulped down the rest of his drink and followed me upstairs.
I found my beautiful wife just as I had left her, hips raised and facing towards the door, head resting on the pillow, and her fingers playing between her nether lips. I climbed up on the bed and lay between her chocolate thighs and tasted her wetness, preparing her for him. As much as this was exciting, I was also slightly worried that she would flip out – after all, not all fantasies needed to be acted upon. But it was too late to change bahis siteleri my mind now that Okolla was just beyond the door ready to continue what I’d started. I gave Wanja one last lick and eased off the bed motioning Okolla to come in. Standing next to each other, one would think we were brothers. We had the same solid build, but he was a couple of inches taller at 6’1″, a light spattering of hair covered his dark chocolate skin where I was slightly lighter and smoother. Where I was circumcised, girthier, ramrod straight and about the same width from root to tip, he was uncut, gifted in length, curved slightly to the right with the head larger than the shaft. I wasn’t sure how soon my wife would notice all these differences, but I hoped if she did, she wouldn’t stop the proceedings.
I tried to keep talking to her as he prepared himself and I heard my voice quiver when he knelt on the bed, palming his length with long sure strokes. He placed his hand on her hip and raised her to her knees, drawing her towards him, the bulbous head of his cock sliding from her bright pink entrance to her clit and back, his eyes and mine not wavering from the sight. This had to be the most erotic sight for both of us. For a moment I willed myself not to come and held my breath as he eased himself into her. I had never been harder than I was at that moment and could feel my cock throb with each heartbeat. I looked at my wife’s face on the pillow as he withdrew and then pressed in further still. She looked puzzled for a moment but continued to moan, calling for me to go deeper. I stepped away from the bed and watched as he ran his hands over the soft supple skin on her back and gripped her waist, his hard body pounding into her softer one while the sound of her moans and their bodies filled the room, and conflicting emotions filled my mind.
I stepped back from the bed and watched their bodies covered in the light sheen of their exertion. Muscles tightening and relaxing in the afternoon light, his hands caressed around her bringing her upright against his chest, he kneaded her breasts and tagged on her dark chocolate nubs, eliciting a moan. She whined her hips against him, churning his cock inside her, searching for more of his length. He fucked her and she fucked him back. His fingers were now between her legs, two fingers on each side of her silky wet swollen nub, rubbing in time to the tags on her nipple.
From the look of things, they were both nearing the end, and the moment of reveal. I walked to the bed and Okolla and I shared a look – this was it. As he gripped her hips and thrust into her, I gently kissed her shoulder and slowly took off her blind fold… here she was at the cusp of her climax, awash with arousal and now confusion. She tried to get away from him but he held on tighter and thrust deeper. She tried to turn her head to look back but I gently turned her to mine and kissed her. I sucked on her lips and tongue as I palmed and kneaded her breast until I felt her relax. She held on tightly to my arm and looking into my eyes, pushed her hips into his. I groaned my relief into her lips and kissed her again and again as he drove into her over and over with abandon, grunting and muttering to himself now that she knew he was fucking her.
When they came it was almost simultaneous. His grunts filled the room while she let out a long, keening sound like I’ve never heard. Looking at her trembling against him with her eyes tightly closed, neck taut and her nails digging into my arm, I knew I had chosen the right man for her. They collapsed on the bed, his hips still humping and grinding her into the bed as his body continued to spasm. When he eased off and rolled to the side, he pulled her from me and into his arms and just held her there as they came down from their high.
For a moment I stood by the bed feeling like an outsider as he whispered into her ear and caressed her body. Kneeling on the bed I kissed her neck and shoulders then left the room concerned but still very much aroused.
They came down later. After they’d enjoyed each other one more time. Nervous. Glowing. My two favorite people in the world. I wanted this situation to work and was relieved when conversation seemed natural as we canlı bahis siteleri prepared dinner, and then turned flirty as the wine flowed. Wanja looked beautiful and flirted mercilessly with both of us all night and when I came upon her humping herself on his thigh, I had to have her. She was still mine until I left, and my long-suffering cock needed to be satiated.
I was inside her the moment our dear friend walked out the front door and carried her up the stairs with my cock lodged inside her stirring the slipperiness that was her juices mixed with his. The rumpled sheets on the bed reminded me of their earlier tryst and I felt myself throb, desire for my wife cutting through me. I felt primal, wanted to fuck her with all I had in me. I lifted her off me and stood her by the bed. My beautiful wife who’d been fucked by my best friend. I hadn’t cum all day, and I needed it. I fucked her. Had to stop when she told me her pussy was too sore to keep going and the nipples too tender to suck. I could not have enough of her that night.
Wanja’s POV – Post Departure
I got home to the sound of our trusty lawn mower in the backyard. Okello pushing it, a sheen of sweat covered his dark skin glistening in the late afternoon sunlight. I watched him from the kitchen window walking the mower back and forth pausing now and then to wipe the sweat from his brow. I had seen him shirtless many times at the beach and even in this very yard while playing soccer with my husband but not quite the same way. I had now experienced that body as a woman experiences a man, I’d watched that back in the mirror working to give me pleasure, grasped those muscled arms. No, this was not the same man of days long gone. Thanks to my husband, this was a fantasy come true.
I poured two glasses of lemonade and walked out to the patio just as he was storing the mower into the shed. He strode towards me with the usual bright smile on his face and took the glass from my outstretched arm, his fingers grazing mine slightly. The slight touch sent warmth coursing through my arm, tightened my nipples, and started a throb between my legs. I wondered whether he noticed the effect he now had on me. He gulped down the lemonade, Adam’s apple bobbing, sweat glistening on his dark skin, eyes piercing into mine from behind his glasses. I don’t think he missed anything with those eyes. He was at once enticing and intimidating. This was the first time he had come over since Kioko left and I did not know what to expect.
“I’m preparing a light dinner; would you like to join me?” I hoped he did not hear the slight tremble in my voice, “It’s chicken salad.”
The answer was yes, he would stay for dinner and share a bottle of wine. That called for a quick shower and a change of clothes – my husband’s clothes, so he would be comfortable. I hoped I wasn’t too forward showing him to the master bathroom instead of one of the others in the house, but I figured it would be OK since he had used it before. His proximity, the heat off his skin and the sweaty scent from his body after working outside was almost overwhelming as I went through the closet to find him a pair of my husband’s shorts and a t-shirt. But he stood there, calm, watching me, perhaps aware that I was leaking like a faucet between my legs remembering what we had done in this very room. I handed him the clothes and made a quick escape back into the kitchen to deal with dinner.
“Feel so much better after that shower.” He said as he walked back into the kitchen, “would you like help with anything?”
“I’m almost done but you can do one thing” I handed him the bottle of wine, “uncork this for us.” I was relieved that the earlier tremor in my voice was now gone.
We settled down to eat and with the previous tension seemingly eased, the conversation was as effortless as it usually was when my husband was present. The sound of his laughter filled the room, and the storytelling went on long after we finished our meal. He had always been easy to talk to and I found myself hanging onto every word, observing every expression, marveling at the way he became animated by the subjects he was passionate about. I also noticed him watching me. His gaze on my lips when I talked canlı bahis or took a sip of wine, the swing of my hips as I moved around the kitchen when we cleaned up, glances at my knotted nipples through the light fabric of my dress. I only hoped he could not smell the wetness pooling down-under making my panties a sticky mess. I excused myself to use the guest bathroom and took them off when I saw how wet they were. I was surprised the wetness had not seeped through to my dress.
When I got back to the living room he was fiddling with the music and soon the room was filled with one of the new Nigerian songs he and my husband liked dancing to. I wasn’t much of a dancer and preferred to sit and watch them try the many moves that accompanied the songs, but here he was gesturing for me to join him, taking my hand when I wouldn’t and twirling me around the room, laughing at my missteps. I was glad when the music slowed down because then I could at least catch my breath and remember my steps. Only, with the slower music he drew me closer, his hands low on my waist moving me with him to the music.
“Is this better then?” He asked, laughing.
“Yes, it is, you know I love zouk.” Dancing with him had always been easy. He was good at it.
“Of course, I know that and many other things about you Wanja.” He tipped my chin up with his finger and with his other hand skimmed my hip over my dress.
“I know you are not wearing anything under this dress,” he arched an eyebrow, “why is that?”
I protested. Claimed to be wearing sheer panties. Ones he couldn’t feel through the dress. “Really?” It was a dare but for some reason I felt committed to my initial response.
“Really! Why would I walk around without panties?” I could feel my heart racing as I said it.
“Hmm … I doubt it. I think I should check just so I’m sure.” With that I felt my already short dress get shorter as he slowly bunched it around my waist while his gaze held mine. Even then I could feel the wetness continue to pool between my lips, sure that it would drip down my leg as we had this battle of wits.
We had long stopped moving and were slightly swaying to the slow music as my dress went higher and higher. Until the hem stopped at the edge of my bottom. “So, panties or no panties?” He queried, eyes on mine.
“Panties.” My voice croaked.
“OK, I guess I have to see this for myself.” He lowered himself then, eyes still on mine until he was on his knees before me. Then he turned his gaze to the panty-less, throbbing junction between my legs. I’m sure he could see how wet I was. Smell it even. I was almost embarrassed. The man hadn’t even kissed me since he’d arrived and here I was, turned on and wearing no underwear.
He drew himself toward me. Drew a deep breath. Then with his tongue, delved into the folds and licked the wetness that had been collecting there all evening.
“No panties.” He looked at me then. “Very tasty, but no panties that I can see.” He then dove back in. Tongue stroking between the folds, finding my clit and slowly lapping at it. Drew it between his lips and sucked, then swirled his tongue around it. Firm but not hard, slowly driving me up the wall. My knees buckled despite his arms holding me up. He licked still. As I moaned and wound my hips. As I ground myself into his face. He licked, sucked, and kept on and on until the tremors took over and my hands on his shoulders gripped for dear life. Until I screamed his name. Then when I could not stand the pleasure, he let me crumble against him and we lay there on the rug, me flushed and panting, reaching for the buttons on his shorts and him, kissing me, giving me small tastes of myself on his lips and keeping my hands from the very thing I wanted so much right then.
“Shhhh … this is for you” the hoarseness of his voice had me believing otherwise. He rolled us on our sides, his clothed thigh snugly against my unclothed center. I ground myself on him. I wanted him. I wanted him to fill me but he held me back. Held me against him as the slow music played on till we dozed off.
I woke up later to find his eyes on me. “So, where are those panties?”
“In the bathroom.” I managed to whisper. He stood up and pulled me up to him. Kissed me and then walked to the bathroom and got the wispy yellow piece of clothing I’d abandoned in there earlier.
“Still wet. I’m going to keep these.” He crumpled my panties into his pocket before walking out the door.