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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
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Priscilla's Hot Summer of 1999
by (Just Me - Original Author)
edit by Tony Tiger (tonytigerxxx@yahoo.com)
***
I saved this story many years ago from an erotic story
bulletin board popular at that time. It is one of my
favorites. I came across it recently and thought it
needed to be seen by a newer and wider group of readers.
I have not been able to locate the original author who
went by "Just Me" This is a first person account of what
happened to his new wife when the husband's friend Tom,
stayed with them one summer. (MMF, wife-cheat, husb-voy)
***
I have always wanted my wife Priscilla to do a threesome
with one of our friends, but whereas it came close a few
times, it never happened.
She always broke it off at the last moment, "Oh Bobbie,"
she'd say, "how can I face him tomorrow?" So it never
happened!
That is... it never happened until that fateful summer.
We were young, married about a year; the apartment was
small, our bedroom, a small guestroom and a living-
dining-kitchen combo. Tom moved into the guestroom in
June and that started an unbelievably sensuous summer.
Lovemaking was an immediate problem... the walls were
paper-thin! Our secondhand bed creaked and Priss
strangled her orgasms with her face pressed into the
pillow.
"My God, Bobbie... he'll hear me... I know he will..."
she'd pant.
"Honey, the whole world knows we make love at night."
"But the bed creaks so... oh God..."
But somehow, the idea of him hearing my wife cum was
exciting and I'd urge her into a grunting climax. She'd
bite the pillow and toss her hips frantically and the
bed would squeak as the brain numbing feeling washed
through her quivering belly. The next morning she would
look at Tom with an embarrassed face, but gradually she
got over it.
Occasionally she would forget he was there and walk into
the kitchen with her blouse off. "Oh my," she'd blush
and cover her bra covered breasts as she hustled back to
the bedroom. But I would say, "Priss... what's the big
deal?" And little by little she relaxed.
It was like pulling on the loose thread of a sweater.
Her inhibitions gradually started to unravel. Being
caught a few times in just her bra and panties set in
motion the unraveling of her puritanical mind set.
At first she used to blush if Tom caught her in just her
bra on top, but fast-forward about two months, and here
she is on our bed with his throbbing stiff penis
slipping into her squirming belly. She's looking over
her shoulder at me, her face flushes and she squeals as
his penis splits her warm slippery cunt.
I watch, stupefied, as they start to fuck. Priscilla
lifts her knees, her curvy legs draw back toward her
bottom and I see her soft pubic hair and the long pink
split of her cunt stretched in a juicy clutch around his
penis. I close my eyes and listen to her breathe and the
steady creak... creak of our bed as they begin.
But I'm ahead of the story...
It started very slowly, she got used to knowing Tom
could hear us making love and if occasionally he caught
a glimpse of her undies... well, she would still be
embarrassed, but it stopped being such a big deal. But
to me it became almost an obsession, a craving to share
her sexually with Tom.
I think the trigger for me was when I was confronted by
her initial blushing embarrassment, yet her conflicting
compulsion to be sexy and flirtatious. She
would look at him and her nervous throaty giggles were
like liquid sex... like warm water pouring over the head
of my penis. I began to experience a heady combination
of jealousy and fascination that made my knees get weak
and my stomach churn. My penis would swell when I
watched her flirt or walk past him with her blouse open.
Why did I feel jealousy and still an urge to yield
sexual access to my pretty wife? ... I didn't know, but
it was a nagging impulsive thought that was always
lurking in my mind. They would brush past each other in
the tiny kitchen and I would imagine them touching. At
night we whispered about it in bed.
"I'd like to see you with Tom," I'd whisper.
"Oh you're silly... I-I... couldn't..."
I began to have a fantasy that they made love while I
was at work. I knew it wasn't so, but I got those weak-
in-the-knees feelings... that anguish of betrayal and
humiliation. But it was all mixed in with a sense of
wild excitement. I fantasized about what she might be
doing. The sensations were addictive. It's imagining the
woman you love being intimate. It was an incredibly
naughty act to think of Pricilla fucking someone else,
especially a friend.
The effect to my senses was a shock, like a hard drug.
It's a sensual addiction that is hard to match; the
thought of my wife's vagina entered by the penis of
another man. The thought of her slipping off her
panties, opening herself and submitting to an adulterous
act of intercourse was enthralling.
It all came head one morning when Tom was sitting with
me at the kitchen table. We finished our coffee and he
was just about to leave. Priss thought he was already
gone and she walked into the kitchen wearing an old
pajama bottom and her skimpy white bra.
"Oh sorry... thought you'd left," she murmured and
started back to the bedroom.
I caught her hand and said, "sit down, Tom's leaving in
a minute. She blushed with embarrassment, but she walked
around the kitchen getting herself a coffee and then sat
between us. Tom's eyes were on the swell of her breasts
and the feelings rushed through me.
The cleavage swelled over her bra cup and a light
luminescence of pink hinted at the location of her
nipples. Priscilla had no panties on under the pajama
bottom and the curvy crease of her ass buns was clearly
evident as she sat. Tom finished his coffee and left the
apartment, probably with half a hard-on!
Something about exposing her to him lit a fire in me. I
took her back in the bedroom and tugged off her pajama
bottoms. Looking down at her warm soft cunt I could
imagine his penis touching her there. We make noisy
love. Right in the middle of it I blurted it out,
"Prissy, would you like to make love with Tom?"
She was gasping and straining her hips and she moaned,
"uh-huh, if you still want me to..."
"Someday, when you're alone with him... just let it
happen."
"Mmmm, maybe... we'll see..."
I found myself living for the adrenal rush of my utter
acceptance, my sudden realization, that she was
eventually going to do it. My stomach churned from the
deep-seated arousal of what was certain to occur.
Nothing happened for two weeks and then one day I came
home and the guilt was written on her face. Tom was in
the guestroom with the door closed.
Priscilla wouldn't meet my eyes and she was blushing.
She was pretending busyness at the sink and looked a
little disheveled... hair slightly mussed... blouse only
partly tucked into her skirt. I came up behind her and
slipped my hands around her waist. She was warm and I
could feel a little tremble in her body. I felt myself
getting a hard-on.
I whispered in her ear, "Sweetheart, are you sick? You
feel so warm."
"I-I'm fine," she said in a squeaky voice.
I turned her around to face me and she buried her face
in my neck, "Priss, did something happen," I whispered.
"Mmmm."
"You and Tom?"
"Mmm."
"You did it?"
"Uh-huh," she murmured.
"Are you OK? You feel so warm..."
"We... we just finished..."
"Oh God," I murmured. "Where did you...?"
"On the sofa... Oh I'm sorry. Are you angry with me?"
That night we talked about it for hours. The details
were excruciatingly exciting. It had started with a
friendly kiss, then a deeper kiss as the fascination
overcame them... his hand finding its way under her
skirt... her stopping it just short of her panty crotch.
Then a few more kisses... feeling her breasts... easing
her down on her back... fingers in her panties.
She cried as she told me about it. How she came to her
senses and tried to stop it... but he was between her
knees... opening his belt... his penis stiff and
probing.
"He dropped down onto me and... and it was too late..."
she sobbed.
I squeezed her hand as we talked. Under the blankets my
penis was stiff as a rail spike. "You didn't stop..."
"Uh-huh, one of my knees was pinned up against the back
of the sofa and... he... pulled the crotch of my panties
aside and then... then he... did it."
"He got it into you, and you fucked?"
"Mmm Humm," she sobbed.
"Prissy... baby, it's all right... I... told you to let
it happen."
Three nights later we invited him into our bed and I
watched them make love. It was a lovely sight and at the
same time the most un-nerving thing I ever
experienced... the kissing and feeling... the few shy
blushing looks over his shoulder at me.
As their excitement grew, I watched them prepare to
join... Priss slipping her panties down... him lifting
her night gown over the ridge of her pubic hair and
getting between her knees. I watched the blankets move
as they adjusted their hips, moving their loins into
that unmistakable position. And then her soft cry as he
found her moist opening.
I moved to the side a little giving Priss room to spread
her legs. Her knees tented the blankets, she moved her
hand into mine and I heard her long breathy gasp. I felt
the telltale squeeze of her fingers on mine as his penis
pressed into her.
It was only their second time. The excitement was
intense, it was quick, hardly two or three dozen thrusts
and he grunted and tightened his arms under her back.
Later alone in our bed, we made long slow passionate
love, a few tears, a lot of warm kisses. When I came
over her she was open and wet; the soft mouth of her
vagina juicy and easy to find. My penis slid smoothly
into the treasure that once was all mine... a little
looser, but still snug with a warm slipperiness. I
cupped a hand under my darling's butt and felt a little
trickle down across her anus, and on the back of my
hand, a wet spot soiling the sheet under her buttocks.
It happened on and off that summer. Maybe a couple dozen
times, possibly a few more. Sometimes when I came home,
I could tell they had done it... She would have that
quiet, almost guilty look in her eyes. Maybe a little
whisker burn on her neck or the zipper of her jeans not
quite zipped. Sometimes she would be warm, her face
still flushed, skirt and blouse wrinkled and I would
know they just finished a quick furtive fuck with her
clothes on. And she would hug me, being very attentive,
almost a way to ask forgiveness.
A few times, late at night, I let her go from my bed to
his.
She would stop at the door, hesitant, a guilty look on
her face, "Oh dear, are you sure you don't mind? It
seems so..."
But she would go and soon after I would hear it through
the wall... squeaky crying sounds and bed noises that
would go on for a long time. I got some kind of a
strange perverted thrill out of it. I would masturbate
to the sound of Prissy being fucked and imagine what she
looked like at that very moment.
Once I peeked and saw my wife sitting nakedly on his
penis, sliding herself up and down. Her nighty covered
their hips but I knew her ass was bare because her
panties were on the floor.
So it was a long hot summer and I worried a lot about
her getting pregnant, but we got through it with a lot
of exciting memories.
The End
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than a
trusted partner. 4-million people around the world
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 86