Watching My Hot Wife - Ten Book Collection Vol 4 Read online

  Tennyson’s cock was so large that it took several minutes to become fully erect. He had to help it along, and he, along with whichever lover he was with, had to learn to be patient. Lydia had early on understood this, and knew he often liked to be teased first, in order to get the blood pumping along that massive shaft of his. When erect, Tennyson’s cock measured a whopping 13 inches, and was about the diameter of a can of coke. It needed a lot of work to rouse such a beast.

  Lydia reached around with both her hands and spread her cheeks open, letting Tennyson get a good view of her recently waxed outer labia, as well as her tight asshole. She was starting to get wet, and Tennyson could see a glistening appear between her smooth, puffy pussy lips.

  “You’re getting wet, aren’t you babe?”

  “Yes,” murmured Lydia, as she turned her head to the side, peering back at her lover whose cock was beginning to harden. She could make out the thick veins on it’s surface, and longed to feel them beneath her tongue.

  “Touch yourself,” ordered Tennyson, his hand now concentrating solely on the head of his mighty cock, treating it as if it were a slippery doorknob, rolling his palm and fingers all around its gleaming surface.

  Again Lydia obeyed, and reached her right hand up between her thighs, sliding her middle finger between her moist folds effortlessly. A sigh escaped her mouth as she did so, and she brought her left hand back to her mouth, sucking on two fingers seductively, her eyes fixed upon the giant black erection that was about to be inside her. She coated her fingers with saliva, sucking on them and moaning slightly. The show was definitely working - Tennyson began to groan and puff like a bull kept in a cage.

  Lydia took her wet fingers from her mouth, and again reached up to her ass cheeks. Her right hand finger was still sliding in and out of her vagina, and with her left she began to rub the wetness from her mouth around the outside of her tight little asshole. Tennyson let out a low moan, indicating that he approved, so Lydia kept going, rubbing the wetness over her opening, and was soon sliding the tip of her finger into her ass. It felt incredible - and she began to slide both fingers into her openings in unison, a delightful tingling building up through the thin wall of flesh separating each finger.

  This was too much for Tennyson, and he pounced on the bed, his cock now waving around like a greased black weapon. He approached Lydia from behind, and gave her ass cheek a good slapping, eliciting a short yelp from the mattress. He began to rub the head of his cock over both of Lydia’s wet holes, which caused Lydia to momentarily fear he was going to try and put the thing in his hand in her anus. Fingers were fine - as were most toys, but Tennyson’s cock just seemed too big, she could barely contain its girth in her vagina.

  She needn’t have worried however. Tennyson, like a lot of Caribbean men, although obsessed with asses found the thought of anal sex slightly disturbing. He wanted pussy, and as such began to nudge the shiny knob of his cock between Lydia’s protruding pussy lips. Lydia instantly reached both her hands around her ass cheeks again, but this time reaching around slightly further in order to pull her labia apart. Tennyson had inched his thick cock into Lydia’s straining pussy about a quarter of the way when she slid off it and spun around on her knees.

  “Let me put it in my mouth baby, we need to get this monster a bit wetter before it goes any further.”

  Although desperate to get his cock inside Lydia, Tennyson only had to think for a second before obliging this request. He held his shaft with both hands, allowing it to stick straight out to it’s full length. Lydia was still blown away by it’s size, a look of wonder spreading over her face as she ran her finger tips along it’s surface, her red nails tracing a line from base to tip. She took the head in both hands, and licked it, her pink tongue swirling all over the deep chocolate of his glands, delivering sexy globs of saliva and leaving trails of it dangling from her mouth. She wanted to make this cock wet, and summoned as much spit as she could within her cheeks before proceeding.

  Lydia then began working on the side of his cock, licking, kissing, and cooing “mmmm” in between each mouthful of shaft. Her hands were fondling his smooth balls, and she could feel them churning, so she flipped over onto her back and brought her face up to them, taking each ball in her mouth in turn, sucking and licking, both hands still working on the rock hard shaft above her. She knew she was driving Tennyson wild, and was aching to feel him deep inside her, so deep that he triggered that special surprise again.

  After a good few minutes spent on his balls Lydia got back on her hands and knees and attempted to ram as much of Tennyson’s length down her throat. She wanted to make herself gag, as from experience she knew the reaction produced a great deal of saliva. She was holding the shaft firmly with both hands, and stuffing as much of it into her mouth as she could, her lipstick now smeared all over her mouth. Each time she brought her head away from the cock, strings of saliva ran between the two humans, forming temporary wet bridges. Lydia swiped at these clear strings greedily, massaging them back into the cock she was slowly stroking. Soon she was ready, ready to sit on it.

  “Okay, lie down,” said Lydia, wiping her mouth and pushing a woozy Tennyson back onto the bed.

  She positioned herself above the dripping wet member, and eased it into her, trying to relax her vaginal muscles as much as possible. Soon she had slid down as much as she could go, her knees either side of Tennyson’s ripped torso. Her elbows were either side of his head, and she was kissing and biting his earlobe, whispering as she went.

  “My god baby… my god… fuck me, fuck me with your big black dick… I am yours, I am yours to do anything with…”

  Tennyson frowned, trying to block out an annoying thought from his mind. He grabbed Lydia by the waist and began to guide her movements, rising slightly each time to meet her.

  “Oh god yes, that’s it… fuck me, I am yours… fuck me…” moaned Lydia, her eyes closed in rapture.

  Tennyson winced. It was that phrase: “I’m yours” - it was playing on his mind, and he couldn’t shake it. He peered over Lydia’s shoulder and concentrated on the rise and fall of her beautiful ass as she rode his cock, hoping that the sight of his lover would stop the annoying niggle in his mind. But it didn’t. He had begun to think about Eric’s proposition, and the thought of it, combined with Lydia’s breathy words, were starting to mess with his mind. He all of a sudden felt like some kind of toy, caught in the middle of this incredibly mixed up white couple. He managed to last another minute before he gently lifted Lydia off his waist.

  “Sorry babe, something’s playing on my mind. I shouldn’t have come today, I really gotta be at the club. I got a guy sound checking soon and actually need to be there.”

  Lydia was totally caught off guard.

  “Oh,” she managed to say, catching her breath and trying to figure out what to do with her body. She reclined somewhat gracefully on her side. “Can you come back? I have the room all night…”

  “Well no, and you’ve got a dinner date with Eric haven’t you?” said Tennyson, weakling into the bathroom.

  “Shit,” thought Lydia, “I do.” She crawled into the bed, pulling the crisp sheets up to her chin. “Are you sure everything’s alright?” she called out.

  She was answered by the sound of the shower going on.

  She tried to think rationally. True, Tennyson’s job as a manager and promoter meant he did have to spend a lot of time at different clubs, and she really only knew a tony fraction of what his job entailed, having only spent an evening at one of the establishments hey provided services for. But was she getting palmed off here? Was there someone else? She had to face the reality - he was an amazing looking guy, and obviously very popular. Plus he was only 35 compared to her 42. Maybe he actually preferred girls like that Alice bimbo he was with when they met. She rolled over in a huff, a knot forming in her stomach.

  When Tennyson emerged from the bathroom, she dressed quickly and in silence. Crossing over to the bed he found Lydia cold and unresponsi
ve. He kissed her lightly on the cheek.

  “Sorry about this babe, call you tomorrow,” he said, and then, turning at the door, with a tone of sarcasm in his voice, added: “Have fun tonight.”

  2

  When Lydia got home she was not in a good mood. She found Eric relaxing in the lounge, a large glass of red in his hand, and one already poured for her on the marble table they used as a magazine receptacle. Looking at this scene of homeliness from inside her front door and a pang of regret flushed through her cheeks.

  “Hi Lyds,” he called out, “you’re home early!”

  Lydia deposited her bags in the kitchen and crossed into the lounge.

  “Am I?” she said, smiling at Eric and bending down to give him a customary kiss on top of his shiny dome. She picked up the glass of red and flopped back into a large armchair, facing her husband. “So, what do you feel like doing?”

  “Well, I’ve got a lasagna in the oven, so I thought we could eat in, if that’s alright with you. But before that, I thought it might be a good idea if we had a little chat. Unless you are hungry right now?” Eric made to stand up, but Lydia waved him back with her hand.

  “No, of course not. Lasagna sounds lovely. But it can wait. What… what should we talk about?” asked Lydia, feeling somewhat like a naughty girl in trouble with her father.

  Eric finished his glass, and refill his glass from a new bottle.

  “I caught up with Tennyson today,” he began, “I suppose he told you?”

  “Oh really? No, I haven’t spoken to him today,” said Lydia, trying her best to lie convincingly.

  “Right. Well, yeah, we had a catch up, and I put this proposition forward to him. Now here me out Lyds, and don’t… freak out, I can tell by that look in your eye that you are about to freak out.”

  Eric was right, Lydia did indeed look panicked. But only because she had already been told about this mysterious proposition earlier, and she was about to get it explained to her, just as Tennyson had predicted.

  “So, to be honest Lyds, I have been actually happy for you, happy that you have found this lover, someone to rekindle something in you that had been dormant for so long. I know I can act like a bit of a prick about it, but I ask you to forgive me that, as I am still your husband, and I do love you, and I am a man.”

  Lydia smiled, and felt a part of her melt for the man she had married. She realized all of a sudden that she had been maneuvering the events of the last month wholly from her point of view, running on impulse, lust and a sense of ‘I am worth it’, but had not once thought about how Eric was actually feeling during this time of upheaval. She felt ready listen, and took another sip of wine.

  “I have taken this opportunity to spend some time trying to explore my desires. As you probably know I fancied that girl Alice, the one that was with your fella when we met them in Barbados. Nothing came of that, of course, but I did ask Tennyson to set me up with some girls the other night at the club. I wanted to feel like I was free and having fun too. Well needless to say I didn't have my way with any of them. But I did have a fun night, they are fun girls. It felt good.”

  Eric seemed lost for a moment in his reverie, and he took another sip of wine. Lydia wondered how all of this was going to feed into the proposition he made to Tennyson.

  “The sad truth of all this, however, is that I have come to realize one thing. And that is that I have not felt as turned as I did when I saw that man cum all over your face in a long, long time. And I want to see it again.”

  Lydia literally choked on her wine, spluttering a mouthful of all over her lap. Eric quickly rose to get a cloth, and as he dabbed at her jeans he said to his wife: “Listen Lydia, the fact is if you want to keep seeing Tennyson, then you are going to have to include me.”

  “Include you… how exactly?” asked Lydia.

  “I want to watch. I want to be in the room,” replied Eric, matter of factly.

  “What, join in?” said Lydia, somewhat aghast.

  “No… but the thing is, I will be very turned on… even now I have raging hard on just thinking about it.” Eric gestured towards his trousers, and sure enough, there was a small tent visible.

  “So… you want watch Tennyson fuck me, and you would like to… wank, while you watch?”

  “Exactly,” said Eric, smiling.

  “Right,” said Lydia, the feelings of warmth she was feeling towards her husband a moment ago quickly being replaced with those of bewilderment. “I suppose I shall have to check with Tennyson…”

  “Oh I have already told him about it,” replied Eric, “today. In the park.”

  Lydia froze.

  “So Tennyson did know,” she thought to herself, “and he lied to me.”

  That explained why he had acted so strangely in the hotel. She looked at her husband, thinking about what it must be like to be him, to want to watch another man fuck her. She pitied him, but also admired him. She thought it was brave of him to come out with it, and in way was glad that they were finally talking about what they wanted from each other.

  “Okay Eric,” said Lydia, rising from her chair, “I’ll see what I can do. But right now, I need to go to bed. Will you be sleeping down here again tonight?

  “I think I will yes,” replied Eric, turning away from his wife and taking another large gulp of wine.

  3

  It was more than a week before Lydia finally convinced Tennyson to go through with the idea. It had taken several long talks, but he had finally agreed to give it a go, when Lydia pointed it out it could be the only way for them to continue seeing each other. Plus they would save a bundle on hotel rooms.

  Eric had suggested that Tennyson come over for dinner. Nobody really ate, the three adults instead reaching for their wine glasses more than their cutlery. About 11pm Lydia announced that she was going upstairs, and that Tennyson should follow. She interested Eric to come up twenty minutes later, in order to let them ease into it.

  Once in the bedroom Lydia dimmed the lights, got undressed and lay on the bed. Tennyson lay down beside her.

  “I still can’t believe I am doing this,” he said, chuckling.

  “Just think of it like we are shooting a porno, and Eric is the director,” Lydia suggested, running her hand over Tennyson’s chest and unbuttoning his shirt. She began to kiss him, lying on top of him and grinding herself against his groin. She soon felt something stir, and giggled a little. “You never know, you may just find it kinda kinky!”

  When Eric entered the room she saw his wife naked, lying beside an extremely tall and muscular black man, a man who had been having sex with his wife for the last few weeks. Now it was happening before him, and this gave Eric a sense of ownership, and also a very modest erection. He didn't say a word, and crossed over to the other side of the room, sitting down on a divan. He had brought with him a glass of wine.

  Tennyson had seen him come in, as had Lydia. Both pretended however, that they hadn’t noticed, and continued to kiss. Their kisses were passionate, and sexual. Eric could see their tongues dancing over one another, and the murmurs of delight pricked his ears.

  Lydia began to unbutton Tennyson’s trousers. She had left them on on purpose, wanting to reveal her lover’s cock in all its glory. She drew the process out, undoing one button, then running her hand over the huge bugle that was lurking beneath. Tennyson’s shirt was off now, and she was sucking on his nipples, biting them, and talking softly.

  “Mmm… someone is getting hard, shall I take it out?”

  “Yeah… take it out,” replied Tennyson, playing along nicely.

  Lydia hopped off the bed and pulled the trousers off, bending over purposefully in front of her husband, giving him and eyeful of her delicious rump. Lydia had texted Tennyson telling him not to wear any underwear, and his giant cock sprang free of the fabric like an elephant’s trunk, rearing upwards for a moment in the dim light.

  Eric’s eyes could not believe what he was looking at. When he saw Lydia that night in Barbados, on h
er knees, receiving spurt after spurt of white goo, Tennyson’s back had been facing him, and he had not seen his rival’s penis. Now, in his own bedroom, seeing it for the first time, a wave of hopelessness engulfed him. He felt ridiculous and almost wanted to walk out. Lydia knew had anticipated such a reaction, and turned to her husband, holding the mighty cock in one hand.

  “You should see how it looks when it goes inside me, I can barely fit it in,” she said, wincing a little.

  Eric decided he did want to see - he wanted to see this man fuck her, punish her with that tool. He wanted to see her wince, hear her cry out.