Installment 3

 

 

That was the beginning—or actually the middle of—the wild summer I am talking about. 

 

We had only been married a year.  It was really our first summer together and our first apartment.  Because my high school buddies from my old neighborhood still lived at home during the summer, and because ours was the only apartment they could go to and drink, and because I was the only one married out of our crowd, they came over often.

 

Even during the weekdays we drank.  It was new.  And it was hot.  And they came to see my wife too.  And she wore her nightie because it was hot, even though it was a bit revealing.

 

This nightie—actually a negligee—had been given to her by her girlfriends for her honeymoon trousseaux.  It was supposed to be sexy; three layers of sheer rayon, blue, came to mid-thigh, was sleeveless, ruffled at the scooped neckline, hanging there by a tie so loosely on her shoulders, so precariously that a good tug and it would fall to her feet in a heap. Without much effort you could make out the dark circles of her nipples underneath, and her dark hairy pussy, not so revealing as to show detail, but the shadow was obvious.  It was enough to make my buddies eager to see more.  And I think she knew it—how could she not?—and she could see it for herself in the bathroom mirror.  She said she wore it because it was hot and she liked it, and she didn't mind if the "boys" noticed things; after all she wasn't naked.

 

She called them "boys" for good reason—well, partly it was because she was a "married woman" and so felt more grown-up than them.  But also they acted like "boys," not a care in the world.  And besides one of them was still in high school—Steve, Gary's little brother.  There were four of them—Gary who'd had his cock sucked by my wife—at least twice that I knew of—and then Steve (his brother) and then Jim and finally Pete.  This was the main crew, my four buddies from high school.  I had known them longer than I had known her.  They could ask anything of me and I would do it.  There were also some others that came and went—in particular Jon, who I did not like, who was Gary's friend.  Jon was everything Gary was not, thought himself a real lady's man, and bragged about it.

 

Well, now Gary had something to brag about too.  The fact of copping a feel was a common sport among all of them, as I said, so that did not distinguish him, but seeing her naked, that was something to talk about, and now he could say, without doubt, that he could get her to suck his cock—and swallow his cum—if he wanted.  Or so he told them, I have heard.

 

This was more or less what I wanted him to think and what I wanted them to hear.  After spying on my wife and Gary, my fantasies now turned to the whole gang of them seeing her naked.  That is what I wanted now.  But how can I get her to do it?

 

Well, it was not as hard as I thought it would be. 

 

They often came to visit when I was at work and catching Annie in her nightie was part of the purpose.  Sitting around with her on the sofa watching TV, they might get a glimpse up her thigh when she got up or sat down.  Or the real deal was, get her drunk.

 

Almost all of them had a story of sitting next to her, and kissing her when they were drunk.  Gary had the best stories, but they all tried more than once to slip a hand up her leg under her nightie.

 

For the most part Annie thought this all just fun.  She teased them, she knew, but she was not serious and did not think they were serious either.  Except for Gary, of course.  And that was only because in the first instance she had gotten sexually excited and had given in, and in the second instance because I asked her to do it.  But she did not think she would ever do it again and thought she could refuse him or discourage him.

 

But within a few days of my "show" she was visited one morning—she in her nightie as usual—by Gary and his friend Jon.  They hung around and wanted something, she could tell.  They drank coffee and watched TV, and Gary and Jon kept giving her bare legs the leer, and she felt uncomfortable sitting between the two of them, especially uncomfortable with Jon staring at her chest, and so on. Finally Gary put a move on her while Jon sat, leaned in on her, and actually tried to add his own caresses, while Gary kissed her and felt a tit through her nightie.  She responded a bit but then pushed him off with a light laugh and got up for a pee.  Gary followed her to the bathroom and while she was sitting on the toilet, he opened the door.  The two of them at the bathroom door looking down between her legs for a peak, which she quickly covered with her hand.   Of course she was annoyed and demanded: "What are you doing?"  Gary smirking, Jon seeming more sinister: they explained they wanted her to give them blowjobs; that is why they came.  She shook her head and simply said: "I don't think so . . . . "

 

Jon then laid the blackmail on her: if she didn't do it, they would tell her husband that she had.  She laughed at this.  That surprised them both.  "Go ahead," she laughed, and slammed the bathroom door shut in their faces.  When she came out, they were gone.   She put on her clothes, did laundry, read a book, took a nap.  That was her day.

 

She told me the story when I got home after work.  I felt a pang of arousal when I heard the story.  I said to Annie: "You can, if you want to. . . ." She gave me an odd look.  I followed her into the bedroom and we talked some more.  But I did not press the point.  I was frankly a little squeamish about her taking off her clothes in front of all of them.  It would change how they looked at me, as well as how they looked at her.  It might ruin our friendship, and if they knew that I wanted her to do it, I would feel ashamed of myself and they would think of me as pathetic.  But at the same time I really wanted her to do it and I wanted to see it.

 

Surprisingly, without any shame at all, Gary showed up that very night after dinner for the usual drinks and TV, bringing along his brother Steve, and soon enough we were visited, per usual, by my buddies Jim and Bill.  Nothing was said by Gary about what had happened, nothing hinted at.  But I guessed that at least his brother Steve knew about it, and all of them seemed edgy, waiting for something to happen.  Annie sensed this too.  It gave us all—Annie, me and the boys too—giddy feelings of tension and anticipation that were frankly sexual for all of us.  I think we all knew that something could happen. 

 

I took her aside at one point and spoke to her in the kitchen privately.  I never really told her to do it.  But she knew what I wanted and I saw she would do it if I wanted her to do it.  So finally I said vaguely: "You can let them just look. . . you know. . . you don't have to do anything. . . ." 

 

She said: "What do you want?" 

 

I said: "What do you want?" 

 

She knew what I wanted.  I did not know what she wanted.  I wanted her to want it, but I did not know if she did.  Annie looked at intently and waited for me to say it.  I did not.  But nonetheless she gave in.  She went into the bedroom and I knew she would take off her clothes and put on her nightie.  That could only mean she would do it.   

 

Annie came out in her nightie and the "boys" were all attentive and quiet.  She sat down on the sofa with the bunch of them, having gotten another drink.  She tucked her feet up under legs, like she does, and leaned against Gary comfortably.  Gary put his arm around her bare shoulder.

 

They tried not to look at what they wanted to look at, except for Gary who seemed not to feel embarrassed about how he ogled her.

 

The usual pretense followed.  I stood in the kitchen and told them that I had to get up for work early.  Actually I did.  I put my drink down unfinished on the kitchen table, and stumbled drunkenly off to the bedroom. Once I was in the bedroom I stood on the bed and removed the screen and once again snuck through the grass, to creep closer to and peer into the windows over the sofa.  She still sat amongst them.  They watched TV.  Once more, there was a long time of waiting and anticipation and the mosquitoes were bad and I was feeling like giving up on it, that Annie would just chicken out.   

 

Annie had got up twice to get more liquid courage.  The "boys" leering at her legs as she walked away.  They seemed like predators, watching her get drunk and not drinking more themselves.  It was like they understood what was going to happen, but I know that none of them did.  I know that for certain—by the expression I saw on Jim's and Pete's face when she really did it: a total surprise. 

 

Annie was drunk enough that when she stood up again she felt dizzy and giggled, and Gary reached up and held her hips to steady her.  It was also a way to cop a feel.  I saw him look over at the others as he slightly lifted her nightie behind her to give them a peek.

 

Steve looking up the back of her nightie, I think, saw her bare butt for the first time.

 

She braced herself and laughed and pushed Gary's hands off her hips; she knew what he was doing.  She stumbled a little as she turned and said something I did not hear.  Then she staggered to the TV and braced herself against it and pushed a button so that it went off.  I could hear her now when she turned back, looking at them sheepishly, brushing hair from her face and smiling said: "Okay. . . Okay. . . I know. . . ." She wavered where she stood.  "If I do it . . . . what you want, " She smiled. "If I do it, then you got to promise. . . ." She paused.  They looked confused and hopeful.  Gary grinned.  "If I do what you want, then you must promise not to tell. . . ."

 

She was very drunk, it was true: I wondered if she would remember any of this in the morning.  

 

"Okay?" she slurred, "You won't tell him. . . .  Okay?"

 

No one said anything.  She answered herself: "Okay. . . ."

She stepped uncertainly to the center of the room and turned to face them.  She smiled. I moved to the other end of the window quickly, so that I could see her face and see the front of her as she did it. No one noticed my movements.  They were staring intently up at her. 

 

Looking down at the front of her negligee, smiling dreamily, Annie teased to untie the string at on the top of the negligee, to pull it slowly out, her eyes dancing, almost giggling but silently happy; the gown slackened as it loosened about her shoulders; it sloughed to one side, baring her shoulder, slipping to the swell of her breast.  Now looking directly at Steve, she drew it off one shoulder and then the other and it caught momentarily, hesitating to fall, on the stiffened tips of her breasts, then plunged completely and liquidly to the floor, to pool about her feet; and now my young pretty wife stood there, entirely naked, for my friends, exactly as I had always hoped to witness and I masturbated eagerly to see it. 

 

Figure 1 : Making them promise not to tell anyone, especially to never tell me, my tipsy wife took off her nightgown in front of my friends. This snapshot from one of the boys captures the moment her nightie dropped to the floor and now she was completely naked in front of them, and would stand there for them to look at her as long as they wanted, while I spied happily at them from the window and savored my masturbation and this incredible moment I had witnessed. I don't suppose they were ever more happy or surprised; for most of them it was the first completely naked woman they had ever seen. I don't suppose they'd ever forget it. I know I won't.

No one spoke.  She relished their sexual arousal, their lewd stares.  Annie paused, her hands lightly on the front of her thighs, her mouth open in her own sexual arousal for them, and smiling, unashamed, naked for their pleasure and her own.  Then, looking down at her feet, still smiling dreamily, she carefully stepped out the spilled negligee and stepped around the coffee table and sat on it, her legs parted, her hands on her thighs.  Leaning back on her left arm, she placed first one foot between Gary's legs on the edge of the sofa, and then placed the other between Steve's legs, so that she splayed her cunt to their view.  With her right hand she touched herself dreamily, her whole breast caressing, then traced the line of her body, her belly to the top of her cunt and inserted fingers into her wetness and asked them coyly: "Is this what you wanted?" 

 

Pete at least nodded appreciatively; no one else spoke but they grinned and fidgeted and leaned to peer closely at her efforts. They and I watched her masturbate; her expression serious, sobering, and her face flushing; though she was drunk she swiftly climaxed, closing her eyes, tossing her head, with a gasp and girlish sigh, and having finished felt of her vulva with an open palm, finding it very wet, wiped the wetness across her bare belly, and laughed lightly at how they still looked at her in awe and in their own raw unfinished sexual arousal.  She stood up, smiling coyly, and said softly: "Goodnight, boys" and walked naked to our bedroom, went in and quietly shut the door.  I watched my friends for a minute or two as they spoke eagerly about what they had seen in low voices and then convinced that she would not be coming back left the apartment in two groups.  They left all the lights on. 

 

I found Annie in bed passed out and unresponsive to my fucking, but I fucked her any way.

 

In the morning she remembered it all very well.  I was pleased and told her how I loved her and how exciting it was to watch and how much the "boys" had enjoyed it. 

 

She asked: "It is what you wanted?" 

 

"It was wonderful," I told her, and in fact it was more than I had expected.  I had not thought to ask her to masturbate.  She had done that for her own pleasure as well as mine.  It still gives me a hard-on to think of it.  My wife in those days, in those few wild weeks that summer, had abandoned herself to her sexual being and I have never loved her more than this, nor ever found her more sexually alluring than when she was naked for other men and liberally gave her whole body—her open mouth, her ready cunt—all of her body—to as many men who wanted her.