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 Take My Wife, Please, Pt.  7 By Alden Bradley
   Steven found me straightening up in the master bedroom.  The bed was a
tangle of sheets and blankets.
   "Hey, sweetheart," he said, his voice a low, comforting sound.
   "Hey, baby," I replied.
   "What are you doing?"
   "Just sort of straightening up," I told him.  "I was feeling guilty
about not neatening up."
   "Anything else?"
   "Anything else?  What do you mean?" I didn't know what he was asking.
   "I was just wondering if you were feeling guilty about anything else,"
he said.
   I smiled at him.  "No, baby," I said.  "Why?  Do you think I should?"
   "No, no!" he protested.  "I was just checking your emotional state."
   I had to laugh.  Here we were, both naked, and recently fucked by our
next door neighbors, and my husband wanted to know what my emotional state
was.
   "I'm fine," I said.  "You still love me, don't you?"
   "Sure do," he responded.
   "Well, then, I'm good.  As long as you're not planning on leaving me for
that dark-eyed vixen, we're fine."
   "You know, you're incredibly sexy," Steven said after a short pause.
   Actually, I wasn't feeling particularly sexy at that moment.  I just
felt naked.  In fact, I could still feel the warm sensation of Larry's cock
pounding away inside me.
   "Uh huh," I told my husband, not sounding convinced.
   "Really," he continued.  "All these images I've stored up of you in the
throes of passion keep popping into my mind.  You are terribly sexy."
   I stopped brushing at the bed covers and faced him.  I could tell he was
worried about my reactions to this weekend.  I decided to reassure him.  I
stretch a hand out to touch his chest.
   "I'm okay, baby, really," I insisted.  "I wonder whether you'll continue
to love me as the slut I've become, but as long as you do, I'll be fine."
   "I wish there was a nicer word," he said.  "Sexually mature, active,
aware.  I don't know.  That word has such a negative connotation."
   "Aha!" I laughed.  "So you agree I am a slut!"
   "That's not fair," he said, wrapping his arms around my waist.  "I told
you I didn't think that expression fit you.  But, I do think you like to
fuck."
   "You knew that before," I reminded him.  "Haven't I always been
enthusiastic in bed?"
   "With me, yes," he nodded.  "I just didn't know you could or would be
the same way with somebody else."
   "I'm not," I told him.  "When you and I make love, it's different.  I
mean it.  There's something special that happens with us that I don't get
with Larry.  It's nice and all, and I would be lying if I said there wasn't
some emotion going on.  But, our sex seems to be more than that.  There's a
synergy that I don't experience with him."
   "A synergy, huh?" he chuckled.  He kissed me lightly on the forehead.
   "Yes," I whispered.  "And, if you don't mind, I'd like to experience it
now."
   His hand drifted to my left breast.  He brushed the nipple with his
fingertips sending a shivering sensation through my body.  "But you just
made love to me out there," he said.
   I shook my head.  "Not the same.  I sucked you off while Larry fucked
me. But, it could have been anybody's cock, Steven.  That wasn't about
loving you.  That was about having two cocks at the same time."
   I knelt in front of him and took his marvelous member in my hands. 
"This," I said, as I licked the semi-hard flesh, "is loving you." I sucked
him between my lips, my tongue dancing across the skin, feeling the power
as he grew in my mouth.
   Steven groaned.  "Oh, babe," he murmured.  "I didn't think I had another
one in me."
   I withdrew my lips for a second.  "It's the synergy," I whispered, then
drew him back into my mouth.
   This was wonderful, I realized.  My husband's cock had a marvelous
rubbery feel as I pressed my tongue on it.  It was growing harder, but the
skin was velvety soft and smooth.  I licked around it, then up and down its
length.  Steven moaned.  I kissed the very tip, tasting the drop of salty
pre-cum that oozed from it.  I sucked it harder, feeling its head bounce
deep in my mouth.  Then I licked at it again as I let him withdraw.
   This great feeling of manipulation and power as I made my husband hard,
wanting me, feeling my lips, tongue and mouth around him made my own juices
begin to flow.
   "I want you to take me," I whispered.  "Missionary position.  Take me
here on our bed."
   I turned around and lay on the bed, spreading my legs for him.  "My
pussy is hot for you," I whispered.  "I want your cock inside me.  I want
to feel you down there.  I want to feel you in my pussy.  Come on, Steven,"
I told him, "take what is yours.  Make me cum and cum inside me.  Flood me
with your cum."
   Steven knelt at the end of the bed.  He pulled me toward him.  His cock
touched the lips of my pussy.  He held it in his hand, rubbing it up and
down the smooth slit, the head brushing across the clit, making me gasp. 
Then, he eased it toward the slick opening.  I spread myself wider for him,
urging him into me.
   "Yes, baby," I whispered.  "Fuck me with your glorious cock.  Claim me
as yours again."
   He obliged with maddening slowness.  Ever so gently I felt him enter,
the head splitting the opening to my love canal.  Then he withdrew a bit
and pushed back toward me, a little at a time.  In and out, tiny motions
that drove me mad with desire for him.
   "Oh, please, my love," I pleaded.  "I want you to fuck me.  I love it
when you fuck me.  I love having your cock slide in and out of me.  Fuck
me, baby, please."
   Steven groaned again as he sank his length into me.  I was full.
   "Wait," I whispered to him.  "Just hold it there for a minute.  Let me
feel your hardness buried inside me.  I do so love it when you fuck me."
   I looked into his eyes, slightly glazed and smoky with desire.  His
hands clasped my thighs, pulling my body onto his member.  I felt the throb
of him in my canal.  It made me want more motion.
   "Now," I whispered again.  "Now you can fuck me.  Fuck me good, my
darling.  Show me that I'm yours, that you can take me whenever you want.
Fuck me and take me."
   Steven began to thrust.  My body quivered as the movement triggered the
nerve ending inside me.  I whimpered as the feelings grew in intensity,
then began to reciprocate my husband's thrusting.  My hips lifted to meet
him, then withdrew slightly as he pulled back.  My hands found his hips and
I grasped them.  I pulled him into me and pushed him away, helping him
achieve the rhythm that seemed to work for us.
   "You're not thinking about Dawn, now, are you?" I whispered.
   He shook his head.  "No," he gasped.  "Just you."
   "That's right," I said.  "You're fucking your wife now.  After all her
fucking around, your claiming what is yours.  I'm a slut, Steven.  I love
to fuck.  But, I'm your slut.  I love fucking you best of all."
   Steven continued his thrusting.  I wanted to weep with the glorious
feeling of it all.
   "I watched you fuck her," I told him.  "I saw your cock sliding in and
out of her.  And, I could feel it.  I could feel you fucking me as you
fucked her.  And, I wanted it.  I wanted you.  You can fuck her if you
want, Steven.  But, you have to promise to always come home and fuck me."
   "I promise," he gasped.  "I promise I will always love you."
   The friction of his cock on my labia started the sensations building.
   "You're making me cum," I whispered to him urgently.  "Please, don't
stop fucking me.  I want to cum on your cock, your hot, hard cock."
   The mind, they say, is the strongest sexual organ in the body.  I set
mine on achieving the most wonderful climax in my life.  I pictured my
husband's cock driving in an out of Dawn's pussy lips, on the way he pushed
them in and puckered them out with his motion.  They became symbolic of
mine as my mind imagined the view from below as Steven plunged in and out
of me.  The electrical humming of my nerves grew and my ears closed off as
a sound like crashing waves grew in my head.  I screamed for him, pushing
against the feeling building inside me.  As I pushed, I could feel the wave
lifting me up, then releasing me to fall across the back side.
   Steven plunged into me, time after time.  His face was set, his jaw
outlined by the muscles clenching as he worked.  Below, his cock seemed to
grow between strokes.  He became larger and more powerful each time he
entered me.
   "You feel so big!" I yelled at him.  "It's so good!  Yes, baby!  Keep
fucking me!"
   "You are so beautiful," he murmured.  "I love to watch you cum."
   "Make me cum again, baby," I shouted.  "Yes.  Keep going."
   The electric hum began another crescendo as my husband pounded himself
into my depths.  I concentrated on that sensation.  My depths, I though. 
His cock, pounding into my depths.  His beautiful cock, that I had licked
and sucked, felt with my mouth and tongue, now inside me, rubbing,
touching, all of my innermost parts.  The wave approached again.
   "Yes, baby!" I shouted.  "I want it!  I want your cock!  I want your
cum! Please fuck me!" The last was a scream as the wave broke below and
washed me down the sharp slope.
   Steven grunted.  "I'm cumming," he gasped.  "Oh, yes!  I'm cumming!"
   He buried his wonderful cock deep within me.  I could feel the
pulsations as his jets of semen spurted up its length and spewed inside me.
The splashes were warm and reassuring.  Steven groaned three more times and
the pulsations ebbed.  He held his position over me for a minute, looking
into my eyes.  Then he leaned down and kissed me lightly on the lips.
   I clutched his cock and his cum inside me.  Steven smiled as he noticed
the motion.  His panting breaths eased as he looked into my face.
   "You're mine, you know," he said, unevenly.
   "I know," I whispered, loving him.
   Dawn looked up from the trashy novel she was reading on the lounger by
the pool.
   "Where have you been?" she asked.
   I slid my frame into the lounger next to hers.  "With Steven," I said.
"We were reconnecting."
   "Reconnecting, my ass," she huffed.  "You fucked him, didn't you?"
   "You're an ignorant bitch, sometimes," I told her.  "I love you, but you
really are a hard case, sometimes.
   "Steven and I had some time together.  What we did was fuck, but there
was more to it than that.  When we make love there is more to it than the
physical action.  There is an emotional element that transcends the
physical.  It is the very special part of our relationship that goes beyond
the tab A into slot B, pump and squeeze."
   "Very esoteric," she commented.  "So, is he upset about the tab A, slot
B thing you've been doing with Larry?"
   "He is not," I told her, chuckling.
   "And you're not going weird about his doing me, are you?"
   "No, Dawn.  I'm not going weird at all."
   "The two of you did talk, though, didn't you?" she pressed.
   "Of course."
   "And?"
   "And," I said, slowly, "we've decided we're on a mission of discovery."
   "I meant what I said, you know," Steven told me during our after-sex
cooling down.
   "About me being yours?" I asked.
   "That," he affirmed.  "And that I think you're incredibly sexy.  In
fact, I've decided that I love watching you get laid."
   "Oh, you do?" It reminded me that Steven had not only watched me get
laid, but had been a cheerleader at one point.  "I thought that might be
the case."
   "It really turns me on, Terri.  Watching you, I mean.  I'm not sure how
to describe how I feel, but it is very exciting for me."
   I knew exactly what he meant.  "You know, I watched you, too," I
reminded him.  "It does the same for me.  When we make love, I'm all
wrapped up in what I'm feeling.  But, when I watch you, I get a chance to
appreciate you in all your glory.  I can watch the reactions you stimulate
in your partner, recognize them and appreciate them all the more because
I've had the same reactions.  And, I can watch your face and hips, your
hands and back as you work your magic on her.  It is very exhilarating."
   "That's it!" he said, excitedly.  "Watching you allows me to really see
how you act and react with vision unclouded by my own involvement in the
physical act.  By not having the pressure to perform I can fully appreciate
the experience you're having."
   The memory of him fucking Dawn flooded back into my mind.  I remember
thinking what a marvelous man he was, how skillfully and proficiently he
brought Dawn to the state of orgasmic arousal that caused her to scream and
curse, urging him on.  When I heard him groan with his own release, I could
almost feel the hot spurts of his semen jetting inside me.  I couldn't help
but grin at the sensation.
   "What?" he asked.
   "Just remembering," I replied.  "I liked watching your ass muscles
tighten up when you shot your cum into her."
   Steven smiled at me.  "I didn't know they did that."
   I nodded.  Then, I wondered if there was anything specific he liked
about watching me.
   "Whoosh!" he breathed.  "Where to begin?  I love watching your face. 
You get that glazed look in your eyes when your cumming.  And, the sounds.
The groans, moans and wails are thrilling.  What else?  Oh, yeah.  When you
grabbed his cock and started licking and sucking him?  I've got to tell
you, Ter.  That was just amazing.  You know, there's always the thought
that you do it out of a sense of, I don't know, duty, maybe?  But, when you
did that, wrapped your lips around his cock, I knew then that you really
liked it.  I thought I would burst."
   "So you like watching me suck cock," I stated.
   He nodded.  "You're incredible."
   "And you like watching and hearing me when I cum."
   "I can't help it," Steven said.  "It makes me hot."
   "So, I guess this is not a one-time thing, is it?"
   Steven balked.  "Now, wait a minute, baby.  I didn't say that."
   "No, you didn't.  You said you liked watching me." That was all that he
had said.  Was he prepared for my reaction to that?  Did he know that I
liked the fact that he was watching?  Did he know that once I was beyond
the point of resistance that I loved getting laid while my husband watched
me?
   "How are you going to watch me if we don't do this again?" I asked him.
   He shrugged.
   "Did you ever consider that I liked the idea of you watching me?" I
pressed my hand into his chest.
   "Really?" he said.
   "That's right," I nodded.  "I have discovered that I've got a streak of
exhibitionism in me.  I like performing for you.  I didn't know that.  In
fact, I want you to watch me as I'm getting laid.  Not to humiliate you.  I
just want you to see that I am a good fuck and that I really love it."
   These were all new thoughts for me.  I was normally staid, reasonable,
devoted, and monogamous.  What this weekend had brought out in me was that
I had a streak in me that wanted to rebel against the norm.
   Steven chuckled.
   "There are things about me that even I didn't know before," I continued.
"I am a sexual creature.  I wasn't aware of that.  I love the feel, the
sensation, the vision of sex.  I like the feel and taste of a cock in my
mouth.  I like being eaten and fucked.  I love watching you eat and fuck a
woman.  I mad about the idea of you watching me in all these activities. 
But, at the same time, I want the security of knowing that you and I are
something special together, that we share these experiences together, and
that we will always come back to one another for the emotional side of our
life together."
   Steven nodded slowly.  "Okay."
   "We have to talk, Steven," I insisted, "all the time.  Just like this. I
have to know what you are thinking, and I think it's important that you
know what I'm thinking."
   "I agree," he said.
   "I don't care if you fuck Dawn or anybody else," I said, "as long as I
know about it and have an opportunity to do the same, and as long as
neither of us falls in love."
   "That sounds fair," he told me.
   "I love you, Steven," I told my husband, "and I believe you love me.  I
think we can both be happy with this arrangement if we're honest,
forthright, and up front about it.  Love is love.  That belongs only to us.
Sex is fun, exciting, exhilarating, an adventure, no matter who is getting
laid.  Can we keep the two distinct and separate?"
   "I'm willing to give it a go if that's what you want, Ter," he said.
   "That's what I want, Steven," I replied.  "I so love watching you get
laid.  I can't wait for the next time."
   The sun was becoming unbearable in the late afternoon.  I looked at
Dawn's sun-darkened complexion and envied her resistance.
   "I'm going to burn to a crisp," I said.  "Let's move back into the rec
room."
   "You think you're going to be able to do all that?" she asked as we
collected our drinks and headed into the house.
   "I don't see why not," I responded.  "We're intelligent, educated,
thoughtful people.  We're also deeply in love with one another.  We can
handle little recreational sex every now and then."
   "I may have created a monster," Dawn chuckled as we settled into chairs
in the den.  "Larry and I don't even have that kind of an arrangement."
   "Yet," I said.  "You need to get working on it.  After all, I'm looking
to your husband to be my primary fuck-toy from now on."
   "Does that mean you're giving permission for Steven to be mine?" Dawn
asked.
   "Of course it does," I laughed.  "We'll share and share alike."
   "I knew it," she grumbled.  "I have created a monster."
   
  
TakeMyWife7