Male partner as third-party, watching wife/GF on Cam with another man

[MilkFountain]

Has anyone else out there watched their partner on cam with somebody else? Over a period of time I had pushed my wife to do "something shocking," to astonish me. One day recently she called me at the office and said she was going to fulfill my wish. I watched on cam as she made love, in a bedroom I'd never seen, with somebody I didn't know.

 

[peter99jackson]

I watched my Wife on our large screen tv in the lounge as I videod her being pleasured to orgasm after orgasm in the bedroom by another Man. WOW what a turn on .

 

[amofiga]

I'm glad to see that some people are into this because it's the subject of a multi-chapter story I'm currently writing. I do believe that there are very small wireless cams available now that can be hidden virtually anywhere. Has anybody had experience with these? Are they expensive? Do they have decent resolution? If you have any experience with these, I'd be interested in hearing about it.

 

[peter99jackson]

I'm glad to see that some people are into this because it's the subject of a multi-chapter story I'm currently writing. I do believe that there are very small wireless cams available now that can be hidden virtually anywhere. Has anybody had experience with these? Are they expensive? Do they have decent resolution? If you have any experience with these, I'd be interested in hearing about it.

I used one of these cameras a good while ago . It was very small . I mounted it inside a wall mounted wooden clock case. The resolution was not good but just good enough to have some real fun . I think the resolution will be better now . They are not very expensive .

 

[1Wheels111]

Damn that's hot...just sayin. I hope more people post their voyeuristic experiences. I can't wait to read more!

 

[LindsayRae]

Over a period of time I had pushed my wife to do "something shocking," to astonish me. One day recently she called me at the office and said she was going to fulfill my wish.

Really? In the wife fucking others thread in the Playground you state that you two have been doing it for quite a while now.





Here.

Further down this first page you'll find my personal account ("The Eskimos Have It Right) of a number of encounters my wife and I had—I, as both encouraged voyeur and she, attended to singly and by multiple lovers. . . .

During the height of the Roman Empire Parthian warlords used to have their prospective wives walk naked through the village to their wedding, so that all could see how lucky they were, so he could enjoy exactly what you want with your wife: the thrill of other men—everyone in the village!—having (visual) carnal knowledge of their/your bride.

There is no greater pride than seeing your wife kneeling, knees spread, arching back to kiss her new lover over her shoulder, breasts raised into his encircling arm, her bottom pushed as firmly as she can into his crotch, and then . . . night after night, enter her, to relive the event with her, in mind and conversation.

There's nothing like it: the planning, the anticipation and the exquisite, hollow-stomached wait before opening the door to her new lover—perhaps having arranged either a surprise for your wife, or for him. What an amazing aphrodisiac.

Thinking back to those always consensual encounters by my wife with other men, I now imagine what it was probably like for her, as I proprietarily watched her prepare for his arrival, following her through the house, seeing her for the first time as Every Woman getting ready for a date—as she must have been, getting ready for me once upon a time ago. . . . I remember that she insisted on washing her hair again. Coming from the shower, she was thoughtfully quiet as she sat naked before the dresser mirror, her back to me, so I could blow-dry her hair as she stared into her own image. Her bottom lay snug between my thighs. Little drops of water fell from the tips of her long hair. She sat quite still as I wielded the blow-dryer, all the while combing her hair out until it was light and silky. At moments I felt as if I were her female roommate, excited for her, fussing over her and making suggestions. I kissed the nape of her neck, lifted her breasts with both my hands and hugged, all the while reassuring her about how she looked and the effect she would have on our invited guest.

Her date’s arrival imminent, I noticed all the details of a woman’s anticipation. As a momentarily-forgotten onlooker, I saw her critical glances into the bathroom mirrors as she experimentally cupped a breast with each hand, then lifted her arms to clasp her hands overhead, breasts rising to best advantage. She applied deodorant and finally carefully smoothed whisps of hair from her face. I helped her dust her back and bottom with powder. And I watched, as if for the first time, I fully appreciated her practiced skill in strategically perfuming her body. She dabbed the glass stopper behind each ear, in the hollows of her collar bones, between and under her breasts, at the top of the divide of her buttocks, on her belly and on the inside of each knee. I was impatient as she meticulously brushed on the little make-up she uses, carefully chose the right shoes for her dress, and gathered her long black hair to hold it in a simple pony tail with her favorite green ribbon, tied into a large bow. I relished her girlish nervousness as we waited in the living room. Nervous perhaps, she looked serious as she asked me once more if she looked all right.

Her attempt at concealing eagerness was the strongest aphrodisiac I can remember. I saw her as she must have been when I first knew her, a young woman getting ready for me—a potential lover.

How must it be for her now? Her husband is beside her—both to protect and to encourage. She is safe, she has the approval, even encouragement from her highest authority, me. . . . And, I observe, like a man, that although she is still hesitant, fearful of rejection (patently ridiculous!) and ravaged by an onslaught of conflictive, random uncertainties, I sense her sexuality rampant in the certainty of fulfillment.

I saw her nipples harden when the doorbell rang. I watched her graceful legs and round, rhythmically-moving bottom as she walked away from me. I heard the music in her voice as she greeted him. Mostly silent, I listened through dinner as they found delight in each other’s conversation. I was proud of how her breasts rose gleaming from the scoop neck of her blouse as she leaned to pour more wine or gather a dish. I was delighted that he was so complimentary about the food she had lovingly prepared. His response to her warm smiles and flashing eyes filled me with admiration and pride.

That he was courteous and relaxed had its effect on my wife. She let go, any fear she had had gone. His eyes began straying over her curves with the same open delight he might have had I not been present. At the same time he congratulated me and my wife on his favorite aspects of our home. Later, he was genuinely appreciative of each of the dishes my wife brought us, her eyes lighting up every compliment, rewarding him with eyes and smiles that would go right through any man. I saw the pleasure light their faces as the evening and her attentive care to keep his wine glass full seemed to bring the two of them closer. Watching them dance in the candlelight, I soon left the room—only to spy on them from the upstairs balcony. I saw his hand stroke her back and finally, hold her neck, as they kissed for the first time.

Later, I went down again. As we danced together—my Norma, sandwiched between us—it was I who lifted her dress over her head, leaving her only in high heels and the ribbon in her hair. It was I who pushed his hands from her waist up to lift her breasts. It was my arms around the two of them that encouraged his hips to press hard against her bottom.

Instinctively finding a way to give them opportunity, I nuzzled her neck, freeing her to turn to kiss him back over her shoulder. Listening to her ragged breathing, I knew how excited she felt with his cock hard up against her bottom, now surely lodged in the cleft between her buttocks, his hands filled with her breasts. I saw him turn her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. when they kissed, their mouths were open, hungry.

I reached between them, unbuckled his belt, flipped open the one button at the top,, and pulled his zipper down. It was my wife's eager hands that left my chest to snake behind her, brush aside my hands, and and force her own between his body and hers. She pushed down the front of his shorts.

That “First date” is burned into my memory—the anticipation shared.