"One Thing Leads To Another" (wife sharing, voyeurism)
by tonytony3
(Archived by Don Jetman)

The reposted story, "A Voyeur's Wife's Story" is referred to in this story. You may want to read it first, although this story can stand alone.

Talking while having sex is risky for us guys. I sometimes think we don't have enough blood to support both brain and boner at the same time.

"How come you're so turned on about guys I used to have sex with when I was dating them, and yet you were so upset that your ex wife cheated on you?"

"They're two different things", I explained, while continuing to move slowly in her.

"How are they different?" She had stopped moving with me, damn it.

"In Mary's case, she was cheating - in the other, it's a turn on for everybody."

"What do you mean?" She was being very still under me.

I decided to tell her. "Look, before I met you you know I was dating Barbara."

"Yeah, I know."

"And you know that she told me although I wanted to have an exclusive relationship, she wanted to date other guys."

"Yeah, I know." She was listening, just barely tolerating me in her, now.

"Well, one time I came back from a trip, and went to her house about midnight. I knew she had a date that evening, but she told me to come when I got in, so I did."


"Well, her date had gone over for a while, and we went to bed together, and when we were making love she told me she had made love with her date that night, too. It was the single biggest erotic moment of my life, I totally lost control!"

It may have excited me, and at that moment I was moving long and fast in her, but it did nothing for Jayne.

She pushed me away. "Bob, I'm really tired. Can we just go to sleep?"

I never ****** sex on a woman, and wasn't going to start now with my wife. "OK".

I lifted up, and she rolled away, and curled up, her back to me.

There was a coolness in our relationship for the next week. I'd go to bed while Jayne was watching TV or surfing the 'net.

So much for "open and honest relationships".

Then came "The Night". I was in bed, in my 'sleep position', on my side, facing away from Jayne's side of the bed, and I was aware, although mostly asleep, of her coming into the bed.

I felt her move next to me, felt her arm move around me. The feeling of her body along my back was very nice, I loved it, and missed it during the last week. Maybe, my sleep dulled mind thought, she got over the little prevision I told her about. It was a comforting thought. I like having her feel warm towards me.

Her hand, over me, was in its usual position, on my chest. I felt it move, though, lower, to my belly, and lower still, until she was cupping my flaccid penis.

Still mostly asleep, I found myself rolling onto my back, making myself more available to her - as available as she might want.

I knew she moved, and her hands were working on the buttons of my pj tops, and then, unsnapping the bottoms, too. I wasn't THAT asleep so that I couldn't cooperate, and lifted a little, and felt the pajama pants slide down my legs, and off.

This was better than a dream!

"That's nice" I said, when I felt her lips on my neck.

I put a hand on her cheek, and she turned her head towards it, sucking on my fingers.

By now enough blood had been diverted so that I was getting erect.

She was, soon enough, kissing my ear.

Jayne didn't often offer oral sex - it looked like that was what she had in mind tonight, though, on her still mostly asleep husband.

She had drawn my hand down along my body with her, as her mouth visited this sensitive zone, and then that one. . .

When her lips were near my penis, I felt my fingers being sucked on, again, while she lifted my hand, keeping my fingers in her mouth, and then my cock felt my hand, my fingers, and her mouth. Her tongue was moving from finger to swollen head to fingers again, all while captured in her mouth. I was getting pretty awake, now! My cock was wet, my fingers were, too, with her saliva.

"That feels so good. . ."

"You taste good, too" she said, lifting a little to speak, then lowering herself again on me.

She never did oral sex like this before!

I could feel her hand holding me erect, then that hand moved to my wrist, and pulled my fingers from her mouth, allowing her total access to my cock. The sensations of fingers and cock being sucked were replaced by that of only cock - still wonderful!

"Jayne, that feels so nice" my sleep immersed voice muttered.

Her hand, holding mine, moved, drawing my hand up a little, and then her fingers, over mine, wrapped my hand around my cock, now so wet with her, holding it upright, for her mouth.

That was very exciting!

"Jayne, we have to stop soon - I want to be in you!" I muttered, lost in all of the sensations, only to have her lift away, whisper "Shhhh", and move again, over me.

Oh, that felt so good. . .

Then her hand, over mine, holding my hand on my own erect penis, tightened a little, forcing me to hold myself a little more tightly.

Oh, even better. . .

But then her hand began moving mine up and down, in a classic masturbation motion, making my hand stroke my penis while its head was still feeling the sensations of her mouth, her tongue. I could feel the shroud of foreskin pull away, ******** the tender head, then covering it again, could feel her tongue caress me, push at its eye, searching, exciting me. . .

I tried to roll away, but her hand held me in position. She knew exactly what she was doing, and what the outcome would be.

Her fingers separated mine, and extended my thumb, so that was in her mouth, too, and I no longer needed her guidance, my hand was moving up and down on my shaft, masturbating myself, and I could feel the pulse in my cock throb and surge, and then that sensation from deep in my scrotum started, there was flow, and I began pulsing, thrusting, into her mouth, ejaculating - a week's worth - feeling her tongue on the end of my cock, feeling a bolus of sperm, and another, and another, leave me, hit my thumb in her mouth, and be captured by her mouth, her tongue!

Her mouth never withdrew.

She stayed over me, until the last pulse ended, and stayed while my cock softened in my own hand, and in her mouth.

Her head moved down, until it was on my belly, my fingers now in her mouth, as our breathing leveled, and, we slept.

I awoke while it was still dark - did I dream that?

No, I was nude, Jayne was, too, beside, me.

That really happened.

Jayne stirred, too. I turned toward her, felt her arms around me, we kissed - maybe good night, maybe good morning. It was a kiss for a new day, anyhow.

"What happened?" I asked.

She whispered her discovery. "I was pretty upset, Bob, about what you told me about you and Barbara. I couldn't figure out how a guy could love his wife and want her to have sex with someone else. One of the women I met on the 'net emailed me a story that explained it. It was by this guy tonytony about a voyeur's wife. It really got me excited, and now I do understand."

I knew the story. (note: A Voyeur's Wife's Story was reposted when this story was posted)

"So you're not pissed off at me?"

"Not any more."


By now we were holding each other, our bodies pressing together along their length.

She pulled her head back enough so that I could feel her looking at me in the dark.

"Yeah, honey?"

"Bob. . .?"


"Last night, what I did to you. . ."

"Yeah, honey?"

"Honey, is that what you want to see me to do to someone else?"

I was speechless! Images, confused images of my wife, what we had done that night, of her doing that to someone else, flooded my mind!

"I don't know. . ." I stuttered.

"Bob, I understand now. . . if that's what you think you'd like, tell me. Tell me now. Maybe we'll be able to do something like that sometime, or fool around with that idea. I'll try to do it when we have a chance if that's what you want. It all depends on you."

"Jayne. .

"No. No more talking. Just get in me, right now!"

We fucked! Quietly, but we fucked, while the new day's light crept into our bedroom. I was on her, looking at her body under mine, moving under mine, her breasts making small movements as I pushed, and my mind saw her, under someone else, and my hips jerked spasmodically, pushing into her. She matched my movements, and I looked up, away from our merged pelvises, to her face, to see it too glistening with a little perspiration, her eyes, fixed on mine, almost analytically.

"Did you ever go down on one of your boyfriends like you did to me last night?" I wanted to know.

"I never went that far, no. . .", and then her body jerked, too, and her mouth formed that oh, and the sighs that meant she was in the middle of an orgasm overcame her.

A whole new sexual area had opened for us. We played with each other, asked things we never would have, before.

Anal? I did, she had not.

More than just two in bed, ever? Not for either of us.

One night stands? A reluctant "Yeah, I did that" from each of us.

What was she willing to do to another man, if conditions were right? "Whatever doesn't hurt!"

Would either of us cheat? Never!

We experimented with each other.

"What about this?" I asked, rolling her on me, classic 69, spreading her, tasting her, feeling her mouth on me. "Mmm, yes."

I brought a cam corder and its tripod into the bedroom. "No, not that," she said.


That was a question we couldn't answer. "Probably a target of opportunity" I suggested.

"Yeah, maybe some day the conditions will be right," she concluded, too.

I wanted it to be a romantic event - one night, but romantic. She was thinking more in terms of a quickie - get a room, get naked, fuck, and part. We agreed events would dictate the scenario. We were alert for opportunities: business trips, the guy who flirted with her at work, a repairman, but each time something wasn't right.

But the anticipation was great, for each of us.

We have this little tridition. Every nine or ten weeks, when we're going out, we stop at the Red Cross Donor Center, and we each give a unit of blood.

Last week we did that again. Jayne finished before me, an unusual occurance. She sat waiting while I was finishing up.

When I went to meet her, I found her in deep converstation with a guy about 50. "Harry here got confused" Jayne explained. "He thought he last donated 9 weeks ago, but it's been only 7 (The Red Cross says no more often than every 8 weeks, boys and girls). It turns out he's given about as much as you have (50 units, a bit over 6 gallons)."

Harry noted that "I guess I don't do it as regularly as you guys - you're a hundred years younger than me, and you've given as much as I have. Tell you what: come on to my restaurant. The least I can do is replace the pound or so you each just lost."

It sounded like a great idea. Harry's restaurant was just off Charles Street, quiet, elegant, and pricy. "This'll be my treat," he said, "since if you dine here once I know you'll come back often."

So, we ate and drank, and at dessert Harry came over to join us.

Among other things we talked of our blood donating experiences. I reminded him of last year's joke, when one of the questions we had to answer to see if we were safe donors was "Had you traveled outside the US in the last year ?", which was followed by "Have you been to the White House since 1992?"

Harry, who by now let us know he was a bachelor, told us giving blood usually meant he couldn't, as he put it, "be with a woman" that evening. "That's the only negative side effect."

"I had never noticed if that was a problem or not for me. Has it been, Jayne?" I wanted to know.

Her eyes were shining, as she said "We usually don't do, uh, that, on days you give."

Click! There was a message that flashed between us. Who could be safer than a regular blood donor? Harry was handsome, even if he was a dozen years older than we were.

His house manager came over, and Harry, excusing himself, went off to attend to something in the restaurant which was now emptying. It was well after 9PM on a week day.

"Are you thinking of it being him?" I asked my wife as soon as he was away from the table.

"It could be him. He's nice - a confirmed bachelor - and kind of sexy. And Bob, he's not the guy who gave blood today - you are!"

Harry came back. "I'm really enjoying the evening with you guys, but this place will be closing in another 15 minutes. Why don't we go out for a drink to finish off the night? It's easier on the staff if I'm not here when they're cleaning up, and you can buy, since you won't get a check for this meal."

You bet we went. There was a lounge a half block away. We had a cocktail, and another. Those went right to my head. Jayne and Harry were deeply involved in a conversation I could hardly follow.

"How come", he asked, making me open my eyes (when did I close them?), "how come you don't dance with this wonderful woman as often as she would like you to?"

That's been a sore spot between us! She loves to, I don't.

"When I hold her, I'm not thinking about dancing" I, or the drink in me, offered as an excuse.

He looked at her. "I can understand that. Come on, we're going around the corner to Larry's Lounge. He has a group playing, and there's dancing there."

We did, and I watched my wife and Harry dance. After a half hour he came back with her. "Slow dancing with your wife makes me think about something other than dancing, too."

"Me, too" Jayne said.

I may have ***** too much, but I wasn't stupid. "Me, too, but I'm the guy who gave blood. Sorry, Jayne. The drinking has gone to my head."

That was a great big slow ball, just hanging there, waiting to be hit out of the park.

"Hey, why don't you guys come to my apartment? It's just over the restaurant. We can dance some more there, Jayne."

"I like that idea, can we go, Bob?" she asked, and I agreed: "Yeah, let's do that."

We walked back, Jayne between the two of us, all of us hand in hand. Her griip on my hand was pretty tight!

His apartment was bigger than our house! It must have been 2500 square feet. We were in the living /great room, me, on one of a pile of pillows in front of the fireplace, enjoying the warmth and a drink, Harry and Jayne dancing on the hardwood floor where he pulled back an oriental rug. Most of the light came from the fireplace, making their figures, moving there, very erotic.

It was slow dancing. Very slow. Uh, he was just holding her, hands moving up and down her back.

"If I give you another drink, Bob, can I kiss your wife?"

"Her kisses aren't for sale, Harry, they're way too valuable. But she might want to give a couple away. It's up to her."

'Her' made her decision. She stood on tiptoe, and they kissed. It looked a bit more than just a friendly peck, too. When did she take her shoes off, I wondered? And since when did a kiss mean he could drop his hands to her ass and press her pelvis to his?

They parted: Jayne's face looked red, more red than the from just the light from the fire place.

"This is a very seductive apartment, Harry," I said. "I'll bet you're lucky with women here."

Looking at Jayne, not me, he said "Usually I am, yes."

"I don't think Jayne's been seduced in a long time" I said, "have you, Jayne?"

"No." She wasn't looking at me when she said it.

"Maybe Harry will remind you and me how it's done." That was another slow pitch.

"I brought other couples here, before," he said, understanding us too well. "Not too often though, maybe a half dozen times. Some, uh, guys are interested in learning how to seduce their wives again. I guess men feel comfortable when they see me with them."

He lead Jayne back to the pillows where I was, sat down, and pulled her so that she was sitting facing me, in front of him, between his outstretched legs.

It was really going to happen!

Jayne has hair a little longer than to her shoulders, and she was wearing it up, in a twist.

"I'd love to see your hair down" Harry said, and her hands went up to her head, and did that magic thing women can do, and in a moment her hair cascaded down to her shoulders.

He tilted his head, so that he could move closer to her ear. Jayne, feeling his movement, did an instinctive thing and tilted her head to the right, making her ear more accessible, and with her right hand reached up, and pulled her hair away to the back, ******** her ear and neck.

"It's so nice when you make it so easy for me," he said, and I watched with eyes becoming less alcohol glazed by the second as his mouth met her ear, at her eyes closing, her flushing, as her hands dropped to about his knees. I found out I had more than enough blood left to sustain an erection!

"You can't imagine how exciting it is for me to do this to a woman when her husband is watching" he muttered, while she was sitting more upright now, making it easier for him, as his mouth traced down from her ear, along her neck.

His arms reached around her, his left going to her belly, holding her to him.

He reached across her lap with his right hand, took her left hand, and his hand slid along hers, to her fingers.

His fingers searched for, and found, her ring finger, closed on it, on her wedding ring, and lifted it, and her hand, up, until it was at her breast. I watched as both of their hands moved over that mound - he knew, using that ring, that way, made it all the more erotic!

"It's exciting to have my husband watch this. . ."

His hand released hers, reached to her neck, and expertly undid a button, and another, until her blouse was undone to about her cleavage. Then, he reached up, and pulled at the collar to ****** more neck, and shoulder. His mouth traced down that curve, helped by her lifting, making it easier for him.

I, a few feet in front of her, was sitting upright now, watching this, this, this seduction.

He kept one hand on her stomach, the other was pulling the blouse's collor to the side so he could enjoy her shoulder, now ******* beyond the straps of her bra and slip. He lifted his head to near her ear, and I heard him whisper "You can help, you know," before he bent lower again, to taste her shoulder.

Her own hands left his legs, and met at the buttons of her blouse. "I will help. . . "

She continued what he started, releasing button after button, and pulling the blouse from her skirt's waistband in front so that she could reach, and release, the last button.

He was pulling at the blouse now, getting it free of the skirt's waistband.

"Lean forword" he whispered, and she did, as he slid it down her arms, over her hands, and off.

She leaned back again, slip and bra partly concealing her upper body, but cleavage, the swell of her breasts above the skimpy bra, and the bumps marking her erect nipples were visible enough, erotic enough.

Harry released his hold on her, and did some pulling of his own, until the turtle neck shirt he was wearing was off.

He stood. "There's no graceful way to do this" he said, pulling Jayne to her feet, too.

"Help me." She did, and pulled at his tee shirt, so that, in a moment, that was off over his head, too.

Unlike most 50 year olds, Harry actually had ribs showing, and a lean, tanned body. He wasn't a middle aged specimen at all.

He knelt beside Jayne, and with both hands worked on her skirt's fastening.

But not for long. I saw a motion, and heard a zipper, then It fell, leaving her slip, bra, and pantyhose clad women in front of him.

He stood, and gathered her into his arms, and they began moving to the music again. This was more than preamble to a more serious dance. His hands, behind her, were lifting her slip, until it was hip high, ******** pantyhose.

He moved back a little so theree was space between their bodies, and almost as though choreographed, he lifted his arms, still holding her slip, while she raised hers at the same speed, so that the slip he was holding moved along, turning inside out, and up her body, and then over her arms, over her head,

and off.

Have you ever seen - have you ever even thought of seeing, your wife in pantyhose and a bra willingly standing in front of a man who intends to fuck her?

"Please?" he said.

She nodded, reached between her breasts, and released her bra's clasp.

She looked at me, and saw me nodding. Without ceremony she separated herself from the cups, and shrugged that garment off, its straps sliding down her arms, releasing for his view, and mine, her breasts, her erect nipples.

She, under his gaze, sank back to the floor. He, staring at her, opened his belt, unfastened his slacks, and slid both them and his briefs down his legs, and bending, got them and his socks off.

He may have been 50, but his erection looked like it belonged to a teenager - its throbbing with his pulse was visible. Why do erect penises look angry? His did, anyhow.

Both of us were looking at him - at his erection - while he kicked his slacks and socks and shorts away.

Then he was back among the pillows again, my wife in his arms.

I watched as he moved her, until she had a pillow under her hips, so that her body was bowed, pelvis high, now, in front of him.

"Jayne, Bob's a lucky man to have you for his wife" he said, moving, so that I could see her from the side. He moved to her feet, and reached along her legs, to her hips, to the hem of her pantyhose.

His fingers caught it. "You do want me to do this, don't you?"

"Yes." Was that my voice?

"You have to lift up a little, Jayne darling," he said, pulling a little. She looked to the side, to me, sitting five feet from her. She continued to look at me while she brought her feet up a little, got them flat on the floor, and lifted her hips.

She watched me as I watched the pantyhose slide over her hips, and down her legs, until her hips was back on the pillow and she gracefully extended her legs almost together, and pointing her toes, so he could pull them from her.

She was nude! Except for earings and wedding ring.

"I think you're already ready, aren't you, Jayne darling?" he asked.

I saw her nod.

I watched, as she, with both feet to his left, brought her knees up, and somehow, with her knees almost together, got her feet a little apart, on either side of his knees, as he continued to kneel there.

I looked at her, nude, in front of him, his erection pointing at its target.

"This is what you wanted, the both of you, right?" he asked, as he put a hand on each of her knees, and spread them.

They parted, her legs wide, pelvis tilted, presenting herself, her cunt. This was following her wishes for a quick experience.

She sat up a bit, reached to his wrists, grasped them, and laying down again, pulled him forward, over her, between her spread legs, over her hips.

He took her wrists, now, and reaching, held her hands to the floor above her head, streaching her..

He moved up, over her body, and I could see that cock brushing along her legs, her thighs, then at her pelvis.

I moved more towards Jayne's head. I wanted to see!

He stopped looking at Jayne's face, but instead looked at her pelvis, as she spread her legs even more, and he adjusted his position again, and again, and moved, and I saw his cock brushing along her pubic hair, saw her moving too, opening her legs, his erection searching, then moving to those lips, and he was pressing forward. . .

Jayne's head went back - her mouth opened, as his hips flexed.

His cock, which had been fully *******, disappeared.

In her.

He looked up, at me, a savage look on his face, as he withdrew, ******** that shaft, glistening now, then ramming it home again, into her, her body held in this accepting position by him, by the pillow her hips were resting on, by him, holding her, streaching her.

He muttered, still looking at me "This is what you wanted to see, isn't it?"

I nodded.

He looked down at Jayne.

"And you wanted him to watch, didn't you?"

He was being a pile driver, banging into her! Her body language helped - she was meeting his thrusts.

"You know I'm going to come in you, don't you? I'm going to fuck you and fill you up."

Jayne, looking at me, panting, said "I know that. Do it. Use me!"

In a short time he released her hands. "I need you to masturbate me into you!"

One of her hands moved between them, capturing his cock, stroking it.

The other reached toward me, and found my hand.

His movements became slower, larger, longer.

Jayne sensed he was at the brink, and at least with me, often helped her to her own orgasm.

I held her hand tightly, as she, mouth open, face sweaty, met his moves, her legs bending now, lifting her hips higher.

His rhythm changed. There was a thrust: a holding of that position.

And another thrust.

And another.

"I'm filling you with me!" he grunted,

pushing in, as deeply as he could,

and out, then in, again, his own back arching. The times the shaft of his cock was ******* I could see her hand moving, as she stroked him, taking whatever his cock was offering.

His erect stiff body, over her, was shining now, from sweat, in the firelight.

His hip thrusts stopped - his chest sagged down, onto her breasts.

It was over.

I looked at the grandfather clock as it chimed the half hour. We had been here for only forty-five minutes. That's all the time it took for us to change, forever, what had been a bond between us.

The two of them lay there, spent. So was I. Until, at last, Jayne, sweaty, and wet with more than sweat, struggled into her slip, her blouse and skirt.

"I hope you call when you're giving blood again" Harry said, still nude, sprawled on the floor, as we, hand in hand, but without bra and pantyhose, crept from that place.

Somehow we got home, and into bed.

"Was it what you wanted?" Jayne asked.

"Yeah, it was" I told her.

"Yeah, not as good as I hoped, but still. . ." she said.

"Bad?" I wanted to know.

"No, not bad, not a turn off anyhow, I'm glad you were there to see us do that. . .."

"Yeah, it was more a turn on than a turn off. I liked watching you do that. You were as erotic as hell. I loved seeing him and you: it was beautiful!" Blood loss or not, I had a huge erection.

As I rolled onto her, and my cock found its home - where there was a guest cock not an hour earlier, Jayne whispered. . .

"Next time, what I'll do, is. . . ."
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