It wasn’t the most engaging play we’d ever seen, but then again we hadn’t been to the theatre much in the last few years, so we weren’t really in a position to comment. It was a distraction, and that was enough.

A few minutes into the second act - the interval having given us a welcome opportunity to down a quick double vodka and tonic each, Lizzie leaned over to me, sitting on her right, and whispered “the guy next to me keeps putting his hand on my knee.”

“He’s bored too,"

“Seriously, every time I push it away it comes back in a minute or two.”

"Maybe you should let him - it’s not like he’s likely to attack you In a theatre full of people, sitting next to your husband,” I whispered, jokingly.

A few minutes later I had almost forgotten about the man with the wandering hands when Lizzie leaned close to me again; “He’s slowly moving his hand further up my leg since I stopped pushing it away.”

This was interesting - suddenly I was alert, shaken out of my lethargy, no doubt brought on by a warm, dark room and a well-upholstered seat.

“How far?” I whispered, a little hoarse.

“Middle of my thigh.”

“Tell me if he reaches your stocking top.”

Lizzie made a sound mid-way between surprise and excitement at the erotic nature of it all. I paid no attention to the play from that moment but stared fixedly ahead as I suddenly didn’t want to discourage or spook the guy with his hand on my wife’s thigh. I wanted to see where this was going.

“OK, she said, slightly breathless, “he’s found my stocking top - he’s just running his fingers over the lace.”

I was getting very hard listening to this running commentary. “Are you wet?” I whispered in her ear.


“You heard me.”

“A little.”

I paused to think for a minute or so. This was the last point at which I could realistically “discover” this guy’s behavior and indignantly make it stop.

That’s not what I did. I was harder than ever - to the point where I wasn’t sure the neighbor on my right wouldn’t notice. Just as I was contemplating that, he got up, apologizing for along the row, and left. Toilet or gone? Either way, I chose to see it as a green light from the big man upstairs.

I leaned close to Lizzie’s ear. “Open your legs.”

I heard a sharp intake of breath. “What? Seriously?!"


I could hear her breathing as her right thigh gradually increased pressure on my left. Slowly, she stretched her skirt wide. After a few moments, Lizzie breathed to me, “he’s not moving - I think he’s bottled out.” I sensed both relief and a little disappointment in her voice.

Without a word, I used my left hand to reach over Lizzie’s legs and firmly grab and hold the stranger’s right hand. I felt it jerk as he realized he’d been caught. He was probably imagining a beating, or a police cell for the night, or both.

Slowly, I took his hand and pulled it up Lizzie’s thigh and between her legs, where I pushed it firmly against her cunt through her knickers. Lizzie groaned softly and jumped a little, but did not complain or attempt to move our hands away. The stranger’s hand relaxed under mine as he realized he’d been granted permission and, I imagine, the enormity of the situation became clear to him. I started, slowly, to move his hand against my wife’s cunt, producing a small moan from Lizzie. I kept this up for a couple of minutes, now squeezing gently, now pushing against her, and feeling Lizzie push gently back to meet our hands.

I released the stranger’s hand and hooked a finger in the elastic at the top of Lizzie’s knickers, hearing the slight catch in her breathing as I did so. Achingly erect now, my cock throbbing, I took the man’s forefinger between my thumb and finger and positioned it just at the entrance of Lizzie’s cunt. She was wet by now and then, together, the stranger and I slipped our fingers inside her we met with no resistance. Lizzie sighed loudly and pushed her hips forward slightly to get as much of our fingers inside her as possible from our positions on either side of her.

Once I felt the stranger start to slowly fuck her with his finger, I withdrew my own, which was very wet, and whispered to Lizzie, “Tell him I want him to make you cum.” Lizzie didn’t hesitate, she leaned to her left and spoke to the stranger in a hoarse whisper for the first time since all of this had started.

“My husband wants you to make me, well, to make me cum and so do I.” Lizzie’s addition to the message made my cock jump in my trousers and I tried to discretely re-arrange myself for greater comfort, Amazingly I realized I had to be careful when touching my cock, even through my trousers, as I could feel it start to twitch and I wasn’t far away from cumming myself.

I could feel from Lizzie’s leg pushing against mine, that she had pulled her skirt to her waist to allow her to open her legs wider, and pushed her toes down and her heels up to raise her arse slightly from the seat, allowing greater, and deeper, access to her cunt for the stranger’s fingers. I could hear that her breathing was deep and ragged, and, incredibly, I could hear the guy’s fingers pushing into her - she was so wet.

He was moving his hand quickly now and I whispered to Lizzie, “Are you close?”

“Fuck yes, I’m close, he’s got his thumb on, fuck, right on my clit.”

Lizzie was gently rocking her hips in time with the stranger’s thrusts and then, suddenly, she reached her 'No going back' point. She grabbed my hand and, with an audible gasp that made a couple of heads turn towards us in the darkness, she came on his fingers. I felt her taut thigh muscles strain as she pushed herself up and away from the seat, forcing the stranger’s fingers deeper into her.

All was still. Lizzie, still breathing hard but becoming more composed by the second, relaxed, allowing her arse to drop back into the seat and her feet to flatten on the floor, her knees falling loosely against us at either side of her. Her skirt was still rucked up to her waist and her legs draped wide apart as she savored the post-orgasm moments.

“Fuck.. I came really hard darling”, she breathed to me.

“Let me check”, I said. I reached over and gently ran a finger the length of her cunt, making her shudder with pleasure - she had cum hard - she was drenched and her skirt and no doubt the seat beneath were covered in her cum. As Lizzie’s breathing began to return to normal, we both heard, quiet but distinct, the opening of a zip to her left. Glancing at each other, I nodded quickly at Lizzie’s enquiring look and she reached with her left hand into the dimness beside her. I heard a man moan very slightly, then I sensed and felt the contact between our legs, Lizzie start to move her arm in a regular motion as she jerked the stranger off.

Lizzie put her lips next to my ear: “He’s big, darling.”

“How big?”

“I think at least ten inches, and thick. I can just get my hand around it. I can feel it pulsing.”

Lizzie’s breathing had started increasing in volume again and she was upping the tempo of her strokes. I reached out and pushed two fingers into her sopping cunt, trying to keep time with the strokes she was making on the stranger’s cock. Lizzie practically abandoned stealth now as she rocked her hips, arching her back to get my fingers as deep into her as she could. I was into her with two fingers, slipping a third in as her cunt juices covered my hand. Suddenly I heard a distinct but breathy “Fuck.. oh fuck” from Lizzie’s left and she briefly accelerated her strokes before stilling her arm, pushing hard against my hand as she came again, whispering, completely out of breath now, "he’s cumming… he’s cumming!”

Gently but firmly I moved my soaking-wet left hand to the back of Lizzie’s head and pushed it down to her left. Realizing my intent, she dropped her head into the stranger’s lap and I heard him moan aloud as she took his cum-covered cock into her mouth. Lizzie tried to make as little noise as possible, but I could hear gentle, wet noises and her breathing through her nose as he filled her mouth with his spent cock. She stayed down on him for what seemed like a long time, licking the cum from his softening cock, then slowly sat up in her seat, trembling a little.

“Not finished yet, Lizzie”, I said, unzipping my fly and pulling her right hand to my *******, rock-hard cock. Pulling her hand back.

She said, “Just a moment”, and shuffled around in her chair so that she was pretty much facing me and, as she wanted, was able to take my cock in her left hand.

“This hand is more lubricated.”

I groaned as I felt the wet slickness of her fingers starts to stroke my cock. Her hand was covered in the stranger’s cum - her palm and fingers were dripping. Using as lubrication the cum from a man neither of us had even seen properly, Lizzie started to jerk me off.

“Some of it hit my face - I think I have some in my hair.”, said Lizzie. Increasing the speed of her strokes, she said, “I want you to take me home and fuck me hard while I relive this for you - I’m so fucking wet darling.”

I tried to answer her but instead sucked in a deep breath and came. Lizzie bent her head to my lap and, turning me on even more if that were possible, waiting for the first few spurts to hit her face before taking me in her mouth to swallow the remains of my cum. As my orgasm subsided she opened her mouth and let my cum slide down my cock, mingling on her hand with that of the stranger.

We left, hurriedly, before the lights came up to spoil the mystery. As we squeezed past the stranger he whispered, “Thank you." Lizzie and I agreed neither of us had ever been that aroused, and we also agreed it wouldn’t be the last time.
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