"A Gift For My Wife"

[TheNextNewGuy]

"A Gift For My Wife"

The two men sat across from one another in a corner booth of one of Capital City's fancier restaurants, their expressions revealing their individual views of the topic at hand. Winston Chambers, at 54 the elder by twice as many years, wore a confident look as he sipped at his tumbler of gin, then asked, "Is this something in which you would be interested?"

Russell Lee's eyes were still a bit wide with disbelief, perhaps even shock, at older man's offer. He looked about himself before asking in almost a whisper, "You're afraid your wife is going to cheat on you, so ... you want me to cheat with her?"

"It won't be cheating," Winston corrected, "I am allowing this. I am promoting it ... soliciting the man with whom I would prefer my wife satisfy her needs."

"Why me?" Russell asked. It seemed a fair question. "We -- you and I -- barely know one another. Business ... we've never socialized. And I have never met your wife. Why me?"

"You fit the criteria," Winston replied without further clarification.

"Criteria," Russell murmured. He asked, "Would you like to clarify what criteria means?"

"No," Winston said with a smile. As he lifted his tumbler of whiskey to his lips, he wondered whether he should admit that he'd paid an Investigator to vet Russell for the position, including getting a hold of the man's confidential medical records to ensure that he wasn't suffering from any sexual diseases that would come back to haunt Winston. After a moment, he relented and explained, "You are a good looking man with a well sculpted body which means she will be attracted. You are not a public figure, which means no paparazzi. You have a clean background which means no police or investigations. You are ... clean ... which means she won't be bringing anything home to share with me in my bed. And yes, before you ask, I have seen your medical records."

Russell scrutinized the man for a moment, wondering whether he should be shocked at the lengths to which Winston had gone or shocked at his own shock that the man had done so. In the end, Russell smirked a bit wider, leaned in closer, and asked, "What's in it for me?"

Winston chuckled loudly, then also leaned in and whispered, "You get to fuck my wife. It's every man's fantasy."

Russell laughed, then felt a blush fill his face. Winston was right. Fucking the man's wife was every man's fantasy, and that included Russell's imaginings. He couldn't count the times he'd fantasized about her with his cock in his hand, the positions in which he'd enjoyed her, the exotic locations where they'd made each other scream in ecstasy. She had been a staple in his masturbatory life since his mid-teens, when he'd first seen her on the cover of the Sports Illustrated Swim Suit issue.

Russell noticed Winston smiling and waving to someone approaching from behind him. The older man rose from the booth as a woman stepped up to kiss him on the cheek. "Mister Lee, I'd like to introduce my wife."

From his sitting position, Russell's first view of the woman was of her incredible bosom and the perma-hard nipples that had been the center piece of the hundreds of images of her that Russell had beaten off to over the past decade. He pulled his eyes away with difficulty, then moved quickly to stand as Winston slipped his hand around the tall, leggy, woman and leaned in to kiss her cheek.

"Sweetheart, this is Russell, a business associate from Seattle," the man said. "He"ll be spending the weekend with us on the estate..."

Winston shifted his gaze Russell, finding his face filled with a familiar expression of awe. He was used to the looks other men -- and even other women -- gave his still incredibly beautiful wife. They expressions made his lips widen with pleased smirks and his ego swell with deep pride.

He knew, of course, that the only reason this beauty had married him was the money in his bank account and his place in society. He didn't care, though. They were each other's trophies. He was her piggy bank, from which she made frequent withdrawals; and she was his eye candy in public and goddess in private, providing him with the greatest of pleasures in exchange for all he did for her. It had been that way since day one of their marriage. And until Winston had begun to suspect that his wife was shopping for a lover, he had been entirely happy with their current arrangement.

He continued, "...isn't that correct, Russell?"

The younger man flashed out of his daydream to realize that his host had asked a question. Tongue tied, Will could only nod for a moment, finally managing, "If the lady of the house does not mind an unexpected house guest."

 

[RPgirl2016]

(FYI: The pic of Abigail is out of context, obviously. Of course, you aren't looking at the setting anyway, are you? )

Abigail Chambers stood in the restaurant's entrance scanning the crowd of well-to-do's, politicians, and Hollywood types. The coat check girl handed her a numbered, gold plated chip with which she could later reclaim her full length fur coat and ushanka, both faux rabbit as was called for in this age of political correctness, particularly in the fashion and entertainment industries.

"You look stunning this evening, Missus Chambers," the younger woman said with a polite smile. She leaned in a bit closer as if sharing a secret. "As always, of course."

Abby laughed as she offered out her leather gloves, saying, "I give full credit to my parents' genes... and my husband's bank account."

They shared a laugh before Abby began her long slow walk through the restaurant. She attracted attention of the diners -- male and female -- from every direction. At a few tables, those personally or professionally familiar with Abby stood to greet her, sharing with her kisses on the cheeks, hand shakes, or a few kind words. At all of the tables, faces turned her way to share a friendly smile, then ogle the incredible form that had made the beauty famous.

Abby had begun on the pages of fashion magazines, then moved to the runway, then back to the magazines. She'd been featured in the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue six times, twice on the cover. She'd played both guest and starring roles on both small and big screens. And more than 15 million posters of her delicious body in varying states of undress graced the bedroom walls and ceilings of masturbating teenage boys and grown men alike all across the planet.

Abigail "Abby" Hanson Chambers had been and was still a stunningly beautiful woman. And she had been and was still now an undeniably famous woman, even now, at 34, when her last professional appearance before the camera had been more than half a decade ago. She was still widely known, and she was still widely yearned. Even in restaurants like this, where this very night three Academy Award Winners, six Grammy winners, two Senators, a Governor, a billionaire hedge fund manager, and a suspected mob king with full body guard detachment were all having dinner, Abby Chambers still became the center of attention the moment she entered the room. It was the kind of attention today's starlets could only hope to achieve during their 15 minutes of fame, popularity that would end the moment they stopped shedding their clothes for the fashion magazines and websites and some other youthful body stole the spotlight.

Ironically, Abby no longer sought such attention. She'd had her twenty years of fame and now only wanted to enjoy the good life that those thousands of hours before the camera had afforded her. She'd made a lot of money over her career and invested it well. But she'd seen many an aging model or actress before her continue their careers with such things as exercise machine infomercials or weight loss program promotions just to keep the money flowing. She hadn't wanted that life. She'd been determined not to be forced into that life.

And that was when she met Winston Chambers. He'd been shopping for eye candy at the same time that she'd been shopping for a piggy bank. They'd gotten along well, their closest friends had approved, and even the Press and Tabloids had blessed the union, knowing that a marriage between the two would sell issues for decades to come, every time Winston, Abby, or both did something publically embarrassing.

Of course, they -- the paparazzi types -- had been disappointed when not a single scandal arose during the couple's six years together. Eventually, the photographers stopped following the two and the gossip reporters stopped inquiring about them. Abby and her husband settled down to a comfortable, loving life that was only occasionally interrupted by camera flashes and reporters' questions.

Abby knew Winston wanted it to stay that way, which was why these days she'd begun to wake up feeling guilty, go to bed feeling guilty, and remain feeling guilty during all of the hours in between. She hadn't been happy in bed with Winston for years, despite continuing to please him as well if not better than she had even in those early days of their marriage. Abby wanted ecstasy, and she wanted passion, and she knew that she wasn't going to find it in the arms of her husband.

She also knew that she wasn't going to cheat on Winston! She simply would not do it. He had given her the life she had hoped in vain that her career would give her. Oh sure, she would have lived better than most of the people on the planet, even better than most of the people in America. But she'd wanted more, and part of getting it had been swearing to her husband and to herself that she would be loyal and faithful to Winston throughout their marriage.

As she approached the reserved table near the back of the restaurant, she smiled as her husband caught sight of her. He waved her to him and stood, kissing her on the cheek as he said, "Mister Lee, I'd like to introduce my wife."

Abby looked to the man, a few years younger than she it seemed. He obviously hadn't been expecting her to suddenly appear as his gaze was drawn to her plentiful breasts and -- as Winston liked to tease -- the perma-hard nipples that adorned them. Mister Lee managed to force his line of sight upwards, hurrying to stand to greet her as his face was darkening with an ill-times flush.

"Sweetheart," Winston continued, "this is Russell, a business associate from Seattle. He'll be spending the weekend with us on the estate... Isn't that correct, Russell?"

"If the lady of the house does not mind an unexpected house guest," the man responded.

Even though her stomach was turning over at the thought, Abby offered her hand, answering, "Of course not, Mister Lee. We might have an empty room to offer you for a few days."

(OOC: For the reader, the description below was provided by my writing partner. For my writing partner, I'm still waiting for a picture to ogle! )

She let the men respond to her little comment as she looked the man up and down. It wasn't a hungry ogle but just the normal review a woman would give someone she had just met. She knew in an instant what he was and what he wasn't. The clothes, the hair cut, the lack of a manicure told her that he was likely a college graduate but that he'd also worked hard at what he did, possibly some manual labor, certainly no sitting behind a desk 50 hours a week or walking the golf course three mornings a week. His manner as he and Winston talked back and forth told her that he was comfortable with who he was while simultaneously wanting more out of life. He was single and not currently involved in a serious relationship as was evidenced by the lack of a ring and the fact that Abby was here. Winston never invited her to a business dinner with a married colleague unless the colleague's better half attended as well.

What Abby couldn't figure out was why. Why were the three of them here now, standing here chatting, then moving into the booth to order their drinks and dessert -- the man had already eaten dinner -- before engaging in a friendly conversation. The feel of the conversation was... odd. No... tense. Abby was used to unfamiliar men feeling uncomfortable around her. Most of them had masturbated once or twice or a hundred times to the fantasy of her spread out upon a pool table, the setting of one of her most popular lingerie advertisements a decade earlier.

But Russell's nervousness and quick glances at Abby -- at her face, her body -- were different than those of most of the men she'd sat next to in restaurants, banquets, and award shows. Abby was a smart and sharp as she was beautiful, so it didn't take much to understand that something was taking place here to which she was not a party.

 

[TheNextNewGuy]

(OOC: And, as well, the description below of Abby is from my writing partner, too. And here are your pics. )

In answer to Russell's question about being an unexpected guest, Abby offered her hand, answering, "Of course not, Mister Lee. We might have an empty room to offer you for a few days."

"Thank you very much," he responded. He didn't realize that he was trembling until he took the beauty's hand in his. Russell's blush, which likely hadn't faded entirely yet, surged again. He laughed nervously, explaining, "Sorry, I'm ... I'm a bit nervous. I hadn't realized I was going to be meeting you tonight. Oh, and please, call me Russell--"

He looked quickly to Winston, asking, "If that's alright, I mean."

"Of course," the older man said. "We're all friends here."

Winston stepped back a bit, gesturing his wife politely to the chair on the back side of the table. Russell hurried around his side, offering, "Please. Allow me." He helped Abby into her seat and found himself unable not to gaze down into the deep cleavage before him. He looked up quickly at the woman's husband to find Winston eying him with a devilish smirk. The man's enjoying this!

Russell returned to his own seat as Winston began explaining to his wife the younger man's business association with Chambers International. Russell couldn't help but glance to Abby's incredible breasts, and he suddenly recalled Abby's nickname during her modeling career: Mother Nature's Miracle. It had often been written and Abby herself had even discussed in interviews the fact that her body was a work of pure nature. Oh sure, she wore makeup and used the best hair styling products. But the body that she'd shown off in tight fitting clothes, skimpy bikinis, and sheer lingerie all those years was exactly as Mother Nature had intended. No surgery, no implants, no tucks, no siphoning.

And he was soon going to be making love to that incredible body. That is, if Abby agreed. How's he going to ask her? He is going to ask her, isn't he? 'Hey Abby, dear, would you like to take Russell here on as a lover so that I know who you're getting sweaty with between the sheets?' Maybe he'd already asked. Maybe they'd been shopping for a lover for the beauty for days, weeks, years.

No. Russell was pretty sure Winston hadn't yet broached the subject with his wife. Russell's attention shifted back and forth as the conversation continued, from Winston to Abby to Winston to Abby's body to Winston again. He tried his best to ignore the former model-actress's incredible physique, but ... c'mon, really?

"We should go," Winston suddenly said, touching his cloth napkin to his lips before setting it down and rising. As he moved to help his wife up, Russell stood quickly, waiting. Winston continued, "You have a room upstairs, yes?" After Russell confirmed that he'd checked into the hotel, Winston continued, "You have the address, Russell. After our meeting in the morning, why don't you drive out to the house. You can't miss it."

That was for certain. The house was one of the biggest mansions in the county, with an incredible view of the ocean below. It had been featured in many a magazine article -- both architectural and financial -- and had hosted more than its share of benefits for a variety of charities due to the features it offered, from large open space to a multitude of rooms to a full stables with two dozen well mannered horses.

"Thank you, Mister Chambers, I will."

"Winston," the man corrected. "In meetings Mister Chambers. Like this, Winston. I insist."

The two men shook hands, after which Russell offered his hand to Abby again. It wasn't trembling this time thank God. "It was wonderful to meet you. And I can't wait to see your home."

They finished their farewells and parted ways...



In the Towncar on their way back to the Shore House, as it was called, Winston held his wife's hand, as he always did when they traveled with a chauffeur. Always the romantic, he'd been called more than once. They'd discussed dinner a bit, then gone quiet for a few miles before Winston asked, "What did you think of him...? Russell?"

He listened to her answer, studying her expressions, looking for any sign of an attraction to the man. When she was finished, he looked out the window at the last moments of the deepening sunset over the distant ocean horizon. He looked back to her, looking her up and down with a hungry look. When she caught his familiar expression, he asked hopefully, "Come to my bed tonight?"

 

[RPgirl2016]

Abby and her husband chatted lightly about the meal and the company, of whom she was having a difficult time forgetting. Russell had been charming though obviously nervous. (Abby hated when he former fame got in the way of simple conversation and socializing.) By the end of the meal, Abby had found herself ogling Russell as much as he had been her.

Her guilt for beginning to imagine the two of them in bed together -- embraced in wild abandon, sweaty, moaning and crying out in ecstasy -- peaked when her husband suddenly asked, "What did you think of him...? Russell?"

"Nice man," she said casually. She gave Winston a devilish look, adding, "Handsome. Is he single and looking to be kept by a woman of means?" They laughed together, neither of them k owing how close to the truth Abby's question might turn out to be. She asked a couple of questions about his work with Chambers International, then said, "It will be good to get to know one of your business associates."

She finished, and after a long moment caught Winston looking her over. She knew that look. He wanted sex, which he confirmed with, "Come to my bed tonight?"

Abby hadn't been in the mood prior to dinner, but after meeting Russell, she'd found herself wanting a bit of pleasure in her evening. She was delighted when Winston asked. Abby couldn't have asked, of course. It would have been too obvious.

She unbuckled and leaned to him, kissing him before whispering, "Of course, my love."

 

[TheNextNewGuy]

Nice man.

It hadn't been a ringing endorsement of the man with whom Winston wanted his wife to find her carnal pleasures. Her comment about him becoming her kept man could have been interpreted in any number of ways, none of which were enough for him to make a decision about openly discussing the idea of her sleeping with another man to fulfill her needs, though.

"It will be good to get to know one of your business associates," Abby told him.

His wife did, of course, socialize within his social circles, but she'd rarely made nice nice with Winston's purely business associates. In fact, he couldn't recall a single purely business acquaintance of his to whom Abby had ever said anything more than hello and goodbye. Winston had always made a great effort to keep work and play separate. In his cut throat world, you never knew when you were going to cause someone's business world to come crashing down around them, and Winston didn't like his wife so see such tragedies with her own eyes.



An hour later, Winston had made a couple of calls, showered, shaved, and donned a thick, comfortable robe, socks, and slippers. He was sitting in his favorite chair in his bedroom when his wife showed up. He looked her up and down, long and slow, and audibly groaned his appreciation.

"You have been..." he began in a whisper as she neared him, "...are now ... and always will be ... the most beautiful woman I have ever seen ... in all of my years."

Before she'd entirely reached him, Winton's cock had already fully hardened, pushing up between the two sides of his tied robe, poking its head out and making its presence known and yearning obvious...

 

[RPgirl2016]

The time Winston had spent preparing for an evening of pleasure with his wife had been spent by Abby pleasuring herself in preparation for that same night. For most of their years together, the hard to please woman had had to prime herself before she and Winston came to one another or had had to finish herself while after she'd finished him off. Sometimes she did both. Other times she'd come to Winston resigned with the fact that only he would be enjoying the euphoria of climax that evening.

Tonight, sitting in the Jacuzzi in her personal bathroom, Abby manipulated her clitoris with fingers skilled by many a night of fulfilling her own satisfaction on her own. She drove herself to just short of orgasm and held that incredible feeling of near ecstasy for several minutes before reluctantly forcing herself to stop. If she came here on her own, the chances of cumming later with Winston were even worse than if she hadn't masturbated in the first place.

Abby donned a newly purchased set of undergarments: a black, lacy thong to show off her delicious ass cheeks; a garter belt to hold up the stockings that her husband loved to peel from her himself; and an underwire demi-bra that seriously emphasized her already impressive bosom. Over this she donned a semi-sheer, full length robe; and on her feet she wore four inch heels that would show off her already long legs and leave her towering over her husband, who had been a leg man long before he'd met her and remained one today.

She dabbed just a single drop of the $8,000 a bottle Les Larmes Sacrees de Thebes on one wrist, touched it to the other wrist, then touched each wrist to her neck. She wore no makeup, other than a thick coating of mascara. Abby had a rare, natural beauty to her, and except for when she was going out on the town, she rarely if ever painted herself at home. When she was ready, she crossed the hall and entered through her husband's open door, finding him sitting in his favorite chair with a book in one hand and a still mostly full tumbler of whiskey in the other. He set both aside at the sight of Abby, ogling his wife with an expression of appreciative lust, before telling her, "You have been... are now... and always will be... the most beautiful woman I have ever seen... in all of my years."

Abby smiled, then laughed, saying, "You're just saying that because you're hoping I'm going to have sex with you."

She fell into her modeling mode of years earlier, moving a few steps toward him with one foot before the other, causing her hips to sway. She peeled the robe from her body, reaching out to let it drop before spinning on her heels to show her husband her backside for a moment before looking over her shoulder to ask, "Do you like it?"

She laughed at his response, turning to face him again, hesitating to give him another moment to ogle her before moving to him. She stood over her husband for a long moment before reaching to the clips at her thighs, loosing them, one after another. She whispered, "Take them off."

Winston knew what she meant, and she knew he would do as told. He reached out to her waist and pulled the thong from her hips, peeling it off her full butt cheeks and down her firm, athletic thighs until gravity was able to pull it to the carpet. Her pussy was as smooth as a baby's butt except for a narrow landing strip of short-trimmed, dark curls that started above her pussy lips and ran barely over an inch in length. Over the years, Abby had tried several different styles down yonder. Winston had liked this one enough for her to keep it for the last two years.

Of course, her hair cut at the meeting of her thighs was solely for appearance sakes, not functionality. Abby had no reason to banish her pubic hair other than for the look. It wasn't like Winston was going to get a hair in his mouth while performing cunninglingus. He hadn't gone down on her since their first year together. Abby had never complained, of course. They had an unspoken understanding about their sex life: Abby kept Winston happy by fulfilling his erotic needs; and Winston kept Abby happy by fulfilling her shopping and recreational needs.

She moved closer to Winston, reaching down to push his knees closer together before straddling his legs. She sat in his lap, leaning forward to engage her husband in a long passionate kiss as one hand began tugging at his robe to open it as the other reached down to his groin to take hold of his already rock hard cock. She stroked him slowly, firmly, before reaching down to cup his balls, rolling them gently before returning to pleasuring his rod.

"Make love to me," she whispered, moving forward upon his thighs, positioning the head of his cock at her hungry pussy. "Make love to me... Love."

 

[TheNextNewGuy]

"You're just saying that," Winston's amazing wife teased, "because you're hoping I'm going to have sex with you."

"Did it work?" he asked playfully. He looked her up and down again, waggled a finger circular in the air, and said, "Show me your new clothes."

He actually meant show me the rest of you in your new clothes, and Winston could see in Abby's expression that she understood that. She shed the robe and turned half way around, showing off her backside, asking as he ogled, "Do you like it?"

Also knowing that he would be referring to her ass cheeks, he teased, "Them. Not it. Plural, my love."

She laughed at his response, turned back to let him admire her another moment, then came to him. She cleared the way for Winston to remove her panties, ordering, "Take them off."

He'd always loved undressing his wife. His compliment about her beauty hadn't been undeserved flattery. Abby had been, was now, and always would be the most incredible woman in the world to Winston. It wasn't just her physical beauty that thrilled him. She was intelligent, too. Intelligent, funny, insightful, and socially delightful. But social delight didn't look like this in a pushup bra and thong, so at this moment -- as he began exposing her bit of heaven to his very nearby eyes -- it was her body that was center most in his appreciative mind.

She revealed herself as already being swollen by pleasure. Winston was no idiot. He knew that his wife sometimes pleasured herself before coming to him. It was just such knowledge that had led him to solicit Russell's sexual services for Abby. It bothered Winston that he couldn't fully satisfy his wife's appetite without her additional assistance. It bothered him enough to find a man who could. Was that an example of being a good, loving husband? Or was is an example of giving up rather than trying harder?

"Make love to me," Abby whispered after spending a minute or so kissing him passionately, groping and stroking his yearning cock. "Make love to me... Love."

Winston caressed his hands over his wife's smooth skin to her buttocks, then pulled her to him as he felt her guiding his cock toward her hole. Her aim was perfect, and as the two of them worked to smoothly guide Abby closer, Winston felt the head of his penis break through her already somewhat relaxed opening.

His eyes closed, his head fell back, and he moaned lightly at the feel of his cock slowly but consistently sinking into the beauty's pussy. He murmured, "You are heaven, my love..."

 

[RPgirl2016]

"You are heaven, my love..." Abby's husband whispered as they worked together to sink his erection deep inside her.

"No, my love," she corrected. "I am but your angel... Come to raise you to heaven."

Abby let her head fall back, drawing a deep breath of pleasured pain as he forced her open. Winston wasn't the longest dick Abby had ever mounted, but he was the thickest. She rarely fucked him without remembering their first time, in the back of that long, black limo, sitting in the darkness of an alley behind the concert hall while their driver sat across the street, drinking coffee, knowing what they were doing to the fabric of his leather seats. She hadn't been with a man in almost a year, and Winston's fat cock had actually hurt Abby upon its intrusion into her tight hole.

The two of them had been socializing off and on for years, first as part of a larger group, later as one another's date to social events. They had made the tabloids in those later years, occasionally with some interesting headlines, including Beauty and the Bucks and -- playing on Abby's nickname of Mother Nature's Miracle and Chambers International's main office address -- The Miracle on 34th Street. (That last one had spawned some pretty racy comics and photo manipulations of the two of them engaged in sex. And though she had never told Winston such, she'd once masturbated to a fantasy of having him in the way depicted in one such poorly pasted image.)

They had both known they shouldn't have been fucking in the backseat outside the Met that night, but the passion of the performance and the building sexual tension had simply been too much. Well, maybe not too much Abby thought now as she began rocking her hips to drive Winston in and out of her. She'd cum that very first night -- twice actually -- which in her mind had meant the tension was of perfect measure. Right there in the man's lap, her chest still swelling and shrinking in the afterglow of ecstasy, his mouth at its flesh and nipples, Abby had decided that Winston would be the man she married. Oh, it hadn't been just the sex, of course. She'd had good sex before. Better sex even. But never with a man who was so complete! Rich, attractive, socially connected, polite, charismatic, chivalrous, and a great fuck. How could a woman pass that up?

"Oh baby," Abby moaned, leaning forward and pulling Winston's face up, meeting his lips with hers in a passionate kiss. She felt him speed up his shifting of her body atop his groin and matched his movements. She moaned out, then grasped his face and pulled his mouth to one of her nipples, crying, "Oh baby! You make me feel so good."

Her compliment was sincere. Winston did make her feel good. He always had. As she rocked faster and harder in his lap, Abby knew that the pleasure would build and build within her as her husband knew just how she liked him to drive his cock into her. She also knew, unfortunately, that before he could ever get her close to orgasm, he himself would be done for the night. Pleasuring Abby wasn't Winston's problem. Finishing her was.

She could tell by his sounds and body movements that her husband was close. Her pre-game exercise had helped, but Abby knew it hadn't been enough. As she'd done so many times before, she casually caressed a hand down Winston's body, then turned it over and sunk it down between them. She found her clit and quickly went to work on it. The pleasure coming from her husband was quickly overshadowed by her masturbation.

It worked. The combination of her skilled fingers and his thrusting cock peaked Abby's pleasure. She clutched her husband tightly to her bosom as she exploded with a long, loud cry...

 

[TheNextNewGuy]

Watching his beautiful, sexy wife gyrating atop his groin was one of the most incredible things Winston had ever experienced. Oh, he'd had perfect looking escorts before they'd exchanged their vows, of course. It was the advantage of being a very wealthy man. But this perfect looking woman was his. No other man would ever be deep inside this woman wondering How did I get this fucking lucky?

Suddenly, he remembered that that wasn't to be true soon. Was he actually arranging for another man to fuck his wife? Sometimes he couldn't believe that he'd even contemplated the idea let alone actually set it in motion. But as he watched Abby slip a hand down between their bodies to pleasure herself -- a common part of their love making -- Winston reminded himself of why he was doing this. He wanted control over -- the choice of -- which man stuck his cock inside his wife, which man in whose arms Abby found ecstasy without having to be responsible for it on her own.

"Heaven, my love," he murmured as he felt his climax nearing. Winston could see that Abby was close but not close enough. He tried to hold off his orgasm for a moment, but it was hopeless. He was beyond that point. The pleasure welled exponentially, and grasping Abby's ass cheeks tightly, he pulled her closer to him as his cock exploded. Winston grunted long and loud as the euphoria swept over him. Over the next few seconds, as round after round of semen filled her, Winston's entire body began to relax. His hands released their grip on her and fell to his side. He opened his eyes to look up at his wife, finding her working harder than before to drive herself to orgasm, too. He urged her in whisper, "Cum for me, my love."

Second later, she did. Abby's entire body reacted to the explosion, and Winston simply marveled at the view. He'd always loved watching her cum, even if he'd only been the full cause of it in those earlier years and, additionally, only some of the time. Abby in the midst of orgasm was the most incredible, most erotic sight any man could ever view. Winston loved the sight, which was part of the reason he was soliciting her a more capable lover.

As she came down from her cloud, Winston pulled Abby into his arms. They sat there for the longest time, simply clutching to one another as their hearts pounded within one another's chests. She felt so good against him, and for a moment Winston began to reconsider what he'd put in motion.

"Cramp," he whispered after a couple of minutes of their loving embrace of satisfaction.

She would know that that was code for Ow, ow, ow, gotta get up! It was a bitch getting old, even for a man with a personal physician and an entire array of medical, physical, and mental experts to help him make these later years as comfortable as possible. Winston was only 54, but during his earlier years, he had put more emphasis on making money than he had on taking care of himself so that he would have more years to enjoy all of that money. He lacked the flexibility he needed to partake in some of the things other men his age did, including those interesting sexual positions in which he sometimes saw couples engaged in online porn.

Winston helped Abby dismount, his flaccid cock falling down between his thighs. There'd been a time when it would have stayed stiff all night long, but those days were long gone. He'd once considered Viagra or one of the other stiffening products but decided no. The result would have been that he could have disappointed her for an even longer amount of time on even more occasions.

Winston rose with a bit of a stiff grunt, took Abby's hand, and walked her toward his bathroom. They always showered after sex before laying with one another for sleep. He'd always hated the feel of laying down covered in sweat and other fluids; and she, as a model, had always had a pre- and post-sex routine concerning her makeup as so many women did. The cleaning served as a final step in their love making, with each of them caressing the other's body while kissing lovingly. Sometimes Winston hardened, and years ago they had often made love a second time. But for the last few years, they'd simply let it go, laid in one another's arms, and fallen asleep. Sometimes Winston awoke with his wife still at his side. Other times not.

Tonight, however, as they dried and returned to his room, Winston said softly, "I think I need to sleep alone tonight, my love." At her response, he explained, "I have an early meeting, 9am ... and if I lay with you tonight, I will want to make love to you until noon."

He smiled to her, pulling her in for a tight embrace and a loving kiss. He told her, "You are now and always have been the most important thing in my life, my love. You'll remember that?"

He listened to her response, groped her ass playfully, kissed her again, then whispered, "Good night, my love."

 

[RPgirl2016]

"Cramp."

Abby giggled, then gently dismounting her husband. His cock escaped her with a wet suctioning pop, which made her giggle again. She had always gotten so wet during sex. It had been an embarrassment on occasion, but better wet than dry.

They showered together, an erotic event in and of itself. For his age and lack of obsession about his body in his earlier years, Winston was still a physically pleasing man. Oh sure, he had a layer of winter fat all about, but he wasn't fat or round in the lower part of his torso. He'd always had muscular arms and legs, and now as they kissed under the streaming, hot water, Abby reveled in the feel of her husband's butt cheeks in her groping hands.

After they'd finished and Winston had dried, donned a robe, and gone out into his bedroom, Abby patted her hair and spent several minutes combing it out before putting it into a pair of tight braids. Going to bed with it wet and loose would have meant an eternity of brushing it out in the morning. She looked into the mirror at her body for a long moment, turning this way and that. She wasn't the tight, 105 pound girl she'd been when first she'd sat in front of a camera all so many years ago, but she still looked mighty good for being 34. As she'd told the coat check girl earlier that evening, good genes and a rich husband.

She donned a robe and went out into the bedroom, only to have her husband suggest that they sleep alone tonight. She went to him, hugging him, kissing him, before answering, "As you wish, my love."

"You are now and always have been." he said in that loving tone that had always made her simply melt, "the most important thing in my life, my love. You'll remember that?"

Abby cocked her head and studied him for a moment with a widening smile. There was something happening in that sharp brain of his, but -- as was often the case -- she had no clue as to what it might be. "Of course. And you are and will be mine."

She giggled as he groped her ass playfully, kissed her again, then whispered, "Good night, my love."

She kissed him one last time, wished him good sleep, and departed, leaving her own lingerie robe and her undergarments scattered about the floor for the housekeeper to pick up and launder the next day. In her own bedroom, she shed the robe, finished her nightly routine in the bathroom, donned some comfortable sleeping garments, and slipped into her bed.

Abby lay there for several minutes, unable to fall asleep, staring at the ceiling. Her mind was wandering. She was both happy and unhappy at the same time. She spent most of her days this way. Content and yet not. She had everything in her life that she could possibly need, want, or desire. Well... not every thing. She yearned for a man who could do to her what Winston had done that first night of passion. Their love life had been filled with mutual satisfaction for the first year or so. They had engaged in far more than just the intercourse that tonight had given Winston what he wanted from Abby.

But that all seemed so long ago now. Her husband hadn't used his mouth on her in years; and, in response, he'd very politely told her she didn't have to go down on him either, feeling that her doing so while he didn't was too much like wifely servitude. Abby would have gladly performed orally on her husband if he'd asked. But she knew better than to volunteer it. One day, perhaps he would urge her to her knees. And after that, maybe one day Winston would drop to his own. Until then, she would fuck him to his orgasm, finger herself to her own, then roll up beside him or slink off to her own bed.

The thoughts caused Abby's hands to caress down her smooth belly to between her thighs, and after she'd taken her own sweet time driving herself close but not entirely to orgasm, she finished herself off... then fell asleep to dreams of unknown lovers.



She awoke with a start, sitting up to find Esmerelda at the cracked door, knocking lightly again. "What is it Ezi? What... What time is it?"

"Forgive me, Miss Abigail, but you have a visitor," the housekeeper informed her. "A Mister Lee. Is after ten, Miss Abigail."

Abby's mind was suddenly filled with recollection of the dream she'd been having at the moment the long time housekeeper knocked. She'd been engaged in a passionate and somewhat inappropriate sexual act with a man who wasn't her husband. It had been... No, it couldn't have been. Russell Lee? The man from yesterday evening, Winston's business associate, who would be spending the weekend here with the couple? No, Abby was imagining it. Ezi had spoken the man's name, and in her half-conscious state, Abby had...

"Shall I invite him to the terrace for brunch, Miss Abigail?"

"Yes, yes, of course," Abby said quickly, moving her legs out from under the blankets to the floor. "Tell him I will be down shortly, Ezi."

The housekeeper acknowledged the order and departed. And as she sat there, remembering the orgasms of the night before and the dream to which she'd awoken, Abby realized that she had a problem. She had in fact been contemplating being unfaithful to her husband. It had only been a thought. She hadn't actually taken any steps toward doing such a thing. But she needed what for so long she hadn't been getting from Winston, and if she had to get that from another man...

Can you do that? she wondered for the hundredth, thousandth time. Can you cheat on Winston? He had given her a life she couldn't have otherwise imagined. Could she betray him in that way just for a greater level of sexual satisfaction?

Abby stood to head for the bathroom, then paused. She turned, picked the robe she'd taken from her husband's bathroom, and donned it. She went to the French Doors that led out to her second floor terrace and opened the doors a few inches. Below her, she saw Esmerelda escorting Russell to a table with a shade umbrella, setting a tray of food and drink before him, before asking if he needed anything else. After the housekeeper was gone, Abby studied the younger man for a long moment. He was very attractive, and in a nice pair of slacks and short sleeved, button up shirt, Abby could see that his body was in good shape.

She wondered if, at half her husband's age, Russell had what it took to make a woman scream in ecstasy again and again. It was about more than age, of course. It took desire, passion, enthusiasm, stamina... even equipment had to be factored. As she stared down at the man making himself comfortable with a glass of juice and an hors devours from the plate Esmerelda had left, she wondered what he was packing inside those loose fitting pants.

Suddenly, Abby realized that Russell was staring up at her just as she was him. Her lifted his juice glass a few inches, smiled, and nodded to his hostess. She backed into her room quickly, embarrassed about what she'd been thinking, even though he obviously couldn't have known what was going through her head. Abby laughed, ashamed, then turned and set about preparing herself for company.



Almost an hour later, Abby made her way out onto the patio in a short summer dress that showed off her hour glass figure and large bosom without seeming as though she was trying to be overly sexy. Truth was, Abby could have emerged in a potato sack and any man seeing her would have wanted to get her out of it as quickly as possible.

"Good to see you, Mister Lee," she said with a wide, polite smile, offering her hand to him. She asked if there was anything else Esmerelda would bring out, then dropped into a lounge chair to his left in such a way that when she crossed one knee over the other, her long, luscious legs were on full display for him. "My husband had a morning meeting. I'm not sure when he is due home, but I'm sure it won't be long."

 

[TheNextNewGuy]

(OOC: I found some great pictures of a Malibu beach home I want to use.)

Winston was up, showered, dressed, and out the door before 6am. His meeting wasn't until noon, but he needed to continue with the illusion that he'd needed to sleep alone the night before. After their making love, Winston had wanted Abby to feel as though something was missing, something she might need to get elsewhere. Fucking her, then sending her away as he essentially had seemed to fit the bill this time around.

Of course, he couldn't realize how well that had worked. Even after making love to him, his wife had pleasured herself again before falling asleep, then dreamed about other men, then awoke to questions about her yearning for the man now downstairs in her home who -- unknown to her -- was here to start the process of becoming her lover.



To Russell it had seemed an eternity before Abby finally made an appearance on the patio.

He'd spent the first little while simply enjoying the surroundings. Rich people. The Malibu beach house was magnificent, and it wasn't even the most spectacular home the couple owned. They had a mansion in the Hamptons, a penthouse in Manhattan, and a mountain cabin -- eight bedrooms and a two lane bowling alley, among other features -- near Vale. And those were only the US properties they called home. The view of the Pacific from this home's lower deck was as spectacular as was the home. Russell could get used to mornings here, listening to the sea gulls in the breezes above, watching the sailboats glide across the blue ... and, of course, recalling the incredible sex he'd had the night before with the home's hostess.

Russell wondered Will we do it here? In her own home? He'd slept with married women in the past, but he'd never done them in their own bed. But this situation was different. Abby's husband was the one arranging the Abby's infidelity. And he obviously didn't want any public scrutiny, let alone tabloid or Entertainment Tonight like publicity of his wife's affair, if you could call it that. That would be a possibility if the couple tried to sneak off to a hotel or isolated B&B or ... where ever for an occasional rendezvous. So, would Winston be expecting -- wanting -- his wife to find her pleasures with Russell here under his own roof?

The thought caused the younger man's cock to harden within his loose fitting slacks. Russell had thought ahead, recalling how sitting with Abby the evening before at the restaurant had caused one erection after another. This morning, he was wearing a tight fitting pair of underwear that would keep the Monster under control.

The Monster. He smiled, even chuckled a bit as he rearranged his sitting position to give his newest stiffy a little more comfort. Russell's first college lover had given his penis that particular nickname. It wasn't like it was the tool of a porn star, but it was definitely above average at 10 inches in length when fully hardened. It's girth rivaled the thickness of Winston's own cock, though Russell obviously couldn't know that, and the head had been called beautiful, unbelievable, stunning, and more by women who often had been anxious to pleasure it with their mouth before forcing it inside their pussies.

And now, he was going to put the Monster inside a woman who was one of the most beautiful women on the planet, a woman to whose image Russell had masturbated almost from the moment he knew what beating off was, a woman who right this minute was somewhere in this very house, preparing to greet him for brunch, unaware that her husband had brought Russell here to woe her into an extramarital relationship with him.

Wow, how did I get here? Russell asked himself. What the FUCK am I doing? He'd spent every waking moment since dinner ended last evening thinking about Winston's offer to let him fuck Abby, for her benefit, of course. It just wasn't something a man like Winston Chambers did. Or was it? That simple question had come to Russell's mind again and again, too. Maybe this was how rich people took care of such issues as extramarital yearnings. How would Russell know, right? This was not his world. These were not his people. Hell, this home on the Malibu beachfront was one of Winston and Abby's smaller homes and yet it was still worth more than he would ever earn over the course of his entire career.

He tried to shake the enormity of the situation out of his head. He snatched up his tablet and opened a work file, trying to think of something other than . But he couldn't concentrate, and after looking up to ensure that no one was able to see his screen, Russell opened his Image File and began ogling the library of pics of the woman with whom he was slated to become lovers. He'd spent almost two hours last night surfing the web for iconic pictures of the model known simply to the world as Abby, downloading some favorites, then masturbating to one of her Sports Illustrated swimsuit pics and then again this morning to one of her Victoria's Secret lingerie images.

It hadn't been until just this morning, after his most recent cock pounding, that a before-unknown thought had struck Russell: Abby had never fully shown her breasts to the world, as in going topless or modeling sheer lingerie through which her tits were entirely on display. He swiped the screen of his tablet hundreds of times to bring up one pic after another and did a multitude of searches for topless pics of her. Yet at the end of it, the closest Russell had come to seeing the woman's nipples was a wet tee shirt pic that gave hints at the detailed shape and color of Abby's large, ever hard nips.

Russell was deep in thought about the apparent fact that he was going to see something few men had ever seen when footsteps pulled him from his fantasies. He heard heels upon the wood deck above him, then a moment later caught sight of Abby at the railing, looking down upon him. His eyes widened at the view provided by the short summer dress. The breeze whipped it about her long, shapely legs as she descended, her heels clicking on each metal step, emphasizing her approach.

Russell waited until she reached a part of the stairs where her back was to him before he quickly stood up and reached to his groin, rearranging the positioning of his again-growing erection to make it less conspicuous.

"Good to see you, Mister Lee," Abby said as she reached him, offering her hand.

Russell hesitated before taking it, fearful that his palms were sweaty. Even as he took Abby's hand, as she was questioning him about whether he needed anything, he was remembering that just a couple of hours earlier that very hand had been dirtied by his masturbatory discharge while fantasizing about fucking this very woman.

"My husband had a morning meeting," she went on. "I'm not sure when he is due home, but I'm sure it won't be long."

"8pm," Russell answered, despite not being asked a question. He whipped out his phone, waggling it, and said, "I received a text an hour ago. A meeting participant had a delay, an emergency Winst-- Mister Chambers said. They broke for lunch instead and are meeting again at 4pm. He told me his texted you, too."

He let Abby respond to the news, then looked about his surroundings. "It's a beautiful home, Mrs. Chambers. I envy you and your husband."

Russell felt a blush coming on and looked away from Abby toward the beach. His mind was racing with the thought I envy your husband ... about you! He listened to Abby talk for a bit, and when he thought his face was back to normal, he ventured to look her way again. She was looking off as he had been, so Russell took the moment to ogle her impressive breasts, well displayed by the upward and inward support of the dress. I'm going to suck on those ... I'm going to kiss them ... nibble them ... fuck, I'm going to tit fuck Abigail Chamber's tits!

His face exploded again with red, but this time -- as his mind had wandered -- Russell had not only been unable to turn his face from view but he'd also been unable to lift his gaze from his hostess's bosom before she turned to look at him.

He looked into her eyes ... and his brain screamed FUUUUUUUCK...!