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From: tonytony3@juno.com (anthony anthony)
Subject: tonytony3’s Life on Long Island 3/3 (mmf voyeur)
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tonytony3’s Life on Long Island 3/3 (mmf voyeur)

This is the last of three parts of this story. The parts really won’t
make sense unless they are read in sequence.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


His hand moved to his belt. So did my wife’s.

“That’s better. You do it.”

She moved to the edge of the bed, sat, legs apart, he was standing
between them.

She unhooked the belt.
   
Unbuttoned the waistband.

Lowered the zipper.

Put a hand on either side of his hips, which still glistened with sweat.

Looked up at his face, as he stood there, hands on hips, watching her.

I watched my wife as she pulled downwards, moving shorts and white briefs
lower, exposing a tan line, a wide patch of dark hair that narrowed,
vectoring downward, and then, a first an inch of shaft, then another, and
another, until finally the head of his penis was free, pulsing, ready to
be touched, to be immersed, in her, in my wife, where for the past years
only mine had been.

The intensity on his face, the engorged size of his cock, gave proof that
he, and it, were going to appreciate using this present, this body made
for sex, this woman with an active imagination, filling  this “maybe
someday” concept, on the bed..

The shorts, now unencumbered, fell to the floor.

He stepped out of his clothing, and now they were both nude - no, naked.
Her  torso, and his, tanned except white where bathing suits covered
them, were, with those tan lines, all the more naked, sexy, almost
obscene.

My own hand was gripping my own erection now, again, as he moved my wife
prone, on her back.

“This is what I like to do” he said, kneeling beside her. He bent over,
his tongue found her ear.

She shuttered, began blushing.

He leaned, and his tongue dragged along her neck. 

He moved more, his knees beside her head, and his mouth covered her
breast.

Another movement, and his head was at her navel, and his cock was near
her head.

It was getting to be a classic position.

“You know what to do, don’t you? My girlfriends do.”

Her hands went to his hips,

she pulled, 

he moved, and now his knees were on either side of her head.

Her hands took his cock.

His tongue by now was at her pubic hair, his hands were spreading her,
again.

“Is this what they do?” she asked.

She looked at the erect penis just above her face, and I saw her tongue
wetting her lips, anticipating.

I saw her move, and saw what I had until now fantasized about, saw her
mouth open, saw him lift, and  move, to accommodate her, until 

          until

                  until he was in her mouth, and then out, and now her
mouth was on his scrotum, and back to the side of his shaft, and her
hands controlled what she sucked on and bit and licked. Her mouth was
busy, and her legs were bent at the knees, her hips heaving, as if the
treasure between her legs was also being invaded by the treasure at her
mouth, instead of his tongue.

He stopped doing her, and looked, instead, up along their bodies so he
could watch her do what she was doing, as she did him..

She was giving pleasure to this man who until now had been pleasing her.

Giving pleasure to me, too, as I realized how important it was to me that
she play an active role in this, and not just be a body for him to use.

He watched as his cock and balls were being serviced by this woman. He
saw her mouth open, take its head, suck. He saw her tongue lick its
shaft, its underside., kiss at his scrotum.

He saw all of that, watching, almost as a spectator, like me, as she
explored and tasted every part of his sex.

Then,  he stopped her.

“It’s not going to end that way,  that easy!” 

he said, and moved away from her body, both his cock and his face wet
now.

He knelt, straddling her knees.

Took one of her legs, put it outside his. 

Repeated the same thing with the other leg.

Now he was kneeling between her legs.

He took an ankle in each hand, 

forcing her knees up, and apart. But not much force was needed, those
legs positioned themselves as he wanted, willingly.

He put a hand beside her cheek, 

she turned, kissed the fingers, sucked on them, directed them to her
breast.

Those fingers pinched at her nipples, traced further down, over her pubic
mount, to her cunt.

Her mouth opened with a sharp breath as they found a warm, wet pocket,
ready for them, ready for more than fingers.

He knelt there between her legs,  his cock in one hand, looking at her,
so exposed, so available.

“I like to do this to women I date!”

He released his cock, got his hands on her hips, lifted. Her hand  
reached toward his cock  as she ached her body, supporting herself on her
feet and the small of her back, bringing her vagina closer to that erect
penis. As she had done for me only last night , she took his erection and
led it to her cunt,  and moved closer.

Her hand was on his cock, guiding, his on her hips, lifting, centering 
her vagina, suspended there, open, hungry,  in front of him.

I saw her mouth open, heard a sharp intake of breath, as he thrust with
his hips, entering her. Obviously his cock found little resistance, since
that vagina had been fucked only that morning, and excited for the last
while. His weight pushed her raised pelvis and ass onto the bed.

My own mouth fell open - until now it was foreplay - serious, but
foreplay. Now, though, it was  intercourse - fucking! 

Concepts of fidelity, love, crowded into my mind. I realized what was
happening had nothing, or everything, to do with them - it was for our
mutual pleasure. I loved it. All of it!

All of that, in the instant it took for her legs to go flat, then circle
his body, ankles crossed, holding him to her.

I saw his hips rock back and forth as he entered, withdrew, entered
again, saw her hips lift, only to be pushed down by his weight, as he
fucked her, and she, him. I could see flashes of erect penis, wet,
glistening, then disappearing as he penetrated her.

I could see her own hip movements, moving in opposition to his,
withdrawing as he withdrew, lifting and thrusting as he pushed in. I
heard the slapping of pelvises, their grunts, and my own, as I
masturbated in time with their own movements. 

I by now had ejaculated all over the door as I watched: he moved with
longer, slower strokes than I do. He had one hand sometimes gripping her
breast, sometimes between the both of them, and then to his own mouth as
he tasted the mixture of her lubrication and saliva, and then he
moistened his fingers again with the fluids that were flowing, and I
heard his say -  no,  demand - “taste us!”, and I saw her, licking  his
fingers, meeting his thrusts with her own, making whimpering noises that
meant she was close to another orgasm, then having it, 

as she  fucked him.

In only a few minutes I heard him say “I can’t  hold off any longer” and
he went rigid, as she rose to meet him, as his pace changed, and the
thrusts were harder, hard enough to make her release her legs from around
him, hard enough so that they remained open, knees bent, as this engine
between them drove harder and deeper, and he stayed  in her longer, and
he 

                        emptied 

                                himself 

                                     into 

                                             my
   
                                                  wife.

And then, after a last thrust, and another, he rolled off, 

spent.

It was over.

Young men can’t keep it up as long as older ones, I guess.

A few minutes rest, and he looked at the clock. “It’s 1:30.  I got to
go.”

1:30! It only took a half hour! Incredible!

He left the bed,. In moments he had his shorts and shoes on.

In another moment, she had on her robe.

Without a word, he  grabbed her, for a final - and I realized, also  a
first -  kiss, and pulled open her robe, and groped at the playthings
under it he had enjoyed, and, 

he left.

I was out of the cubby as soon as he left the room, stripped naked by the
time the front door closed.

Marsha came in tentatively : “Are you all right?”

I didn’t say a word.

I did grab her robe, roughly pulled it from her, getting her as naked as
she had been a few minutes earlier.

I pushed her  to the bed, over the dark stains on the satin sheets where
her ass was pushed down, where someone else’s cock caused her lubrication
to flow,  and  got  my almost erect cock into her. (Come on, guys, I’m in
my mid thirties, I had sex three times last night, again this morning,
and had been masturbating. for the last half hour. Even Viagra wouldn’t
help.) I felt her return the movement, as my cock found this expanded,
dilated, recently fucked vagina, already wet, her pubic hair already
wearing drying seman pearls, her face already moist with her own saliva,
having had Jim’s cock on it, in her mouth. I thought of that, covered her
mouth with mine, my tongue found hers, found what I want to think is a
taste of him, too, just as my cock was finding itself moistened with
seman not its own. The sensations, a bed wet and cool and stained with
someone else’s juices mixed with hers, the scent of him on her, the look
on her face, satiated, satisfied, lusty, were more than I could
experience and maintain any kind of control. Sometimes older men can’t
keep it up, either.

And I came again, feebly this time. So did she, not feebly.

A few minutes recovery, and we went into the shower together, washing the
evidence away, loving each other, loving the experience.

We stripped the bed that we had prepared only hours before, got the
bedding into the wash.

And put fresh bedding in its place, and Marsha and me back in bed,
holding each other, loving the moment, the memories.

All of the evidence WAS gone, except the memories.

It affirmed for me that  my wife was still as beautiful and as sexy as I
thought.

And I learned about myself, too, and how much a turn on for me  to see
what I had seen.

She learned, too, that having sex with a new man while I watched was
exciting, fun, erotic. 

Fun, for both of us, to this extent. 

Next week, in the personals, our newspaper on Long Island (not Newsday)
will carry this ad:

Wanted, N/S W/BM 30-40, tall, into fitness and exercise, serious about
having fun. This adventurous WF, 35, 5’4”, blond, 125 lbs, is serious
about the same things.
 

comments are welcome.

tonytony3@juno.com

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