Mayıs 30, 2021

See No Evil

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Chapter 1 – Male Fantasies


OK, with such a title this chapter could easily turn into a novel so let’s restrict the scope to “husband” fantasies! In particular, what is it about husbands that they love to watch their wife being fucked by other men? When you’re dating, they’re all possessive and won’t even let you kiss another guy and such. Yet something seems to happen when the wedding ring goes on and suddenly it’s just fine to suck the guy’s dick. It’s almost like now that he officially “owns” you it doesn’t matter who else fucks you because they know when all is said and done they’re going get you for themselves later.

I’ve actually discussed this with husband Steve many times and all I typically get is the usual male to response to anything requiring some thoughtful insight… “I don’t know.” Even THAT is doing well as usually it’s just a grunt. To be fair though, I really don’t think he DOES knows. So much of what a man seems to be driven by instinct and evolution. Thus even though I still ask, I’m not all that surprised anymore when I get the “duh” response.

What I do know is that my husband just loves it when men look at me with undisguised lust and desire. Steve loves it when we go out and I dress all slutty such that all the other guys are staring at me with obvious thoughts as to what they want to do with me. So when it goes a step further and they actually DO fuck me, you can just imagine how excited that makes him! When I look over at my husband while having sex with another man, it turns me on as well seeing how much I’m pleasing my hubby, knowing that later when we get home he’ll be “repossessing” me for his own.

When you think about it, it seems most of what women do is based around satisfying the fantasies of the men around them. Really, what do men do when it comes to taking care of MY fantasies? It’s not that I’m complaining – just an observation but it’s telling in that it forms the basis of much of what I do when it comes to my sex life and for that matter, life in general.

Don’t believe me? Well, just look at a typical girl’s wardrobe and then ask yourself how much of it would she have if men weren’t going to see her wearing it. Shoes are especially true of this. Face it, heels serve only one purpose – making your legs look better for men. A famous actress once said something like, “When I come home alone, the FIRST things I take off are my heels. When I come home with a man, the LAST thing I take off are my heels.” Tight short skirts, thongs, form-fitting jeans, 99% of lingerie… all for men.

For me, of all the male fantasies the one that I find the most provocative, the one that at first seems so wrong yet drives my guy so crazy, has got to be when he watches me being fucked by other men, especially strangers. What I find a little odd is that anything less than full penetration really doesn’t do it for him. What I mean is that if all I do is give another guy a BJ or let him fondle and grope me, unless it’s a prelude to the full monte then Steve doesn’t go for it, at least not the same as if the guys fucks me.

To top it off, despite what the porn industry seems to think excites guys, my husband want me to not only be fucked but to be “mated” as well. He wants the guy to cum inside of me – ALL of it. It may also have to do with not having to deal with the mess of a guy’s cum on my face or in my hair as Steve reacts to other men’s sperm like it’s radioactive waste. Whatever the reason, the only time he ever says much of anything when he’s watching me with another guy is when it gets towards the end and he thinks the guy might be thinking about pulling out before he cums inside of me. I have to admit, it turns me on to when my husband tells a guy I may have just met to cum inside of me!

So what more can I say? I love my husband and as his wife I’m biblically bound to submit to him so if that’s what turns him on then that’s what I will do. It’s not like that’s a burden – it turns me on just as much!

Chapter 2 – Setting the Stage


“C’mon Kelly, you’ll love it!”

Yeah, like how many times had I heard THAT line before? In this case it was probably true but my husband could have used a better expression rather than one that he would conjure up whenever he knew it was something I wouldn’t love to do – like when he came up with that crazy idea of fucking me on a Ferris Wheel. I’ll let your imagination work on that one but it wasn’t nearly as hot as it might sound like it was.

“OK, but why the blindfold?” I couldn’t help but whine a little.

Steve grinned and rubbed his hands together like he was working on some master plan for me – which he was in fact. “I already told you… he doesn’t want you to know who he is.”

My eyes rolled in big loops. “C’mon… Like who cares?” I countered, “What’s the big deal?”

“I can’t tell you,” Steve chuckled, “If you knew why then you’d know who it was.”

Seemed like circular logic to me but I knew it was pointless to argue any further. “Alright then… so I have to wear çiğli escort a blindfold. What else?”

Steve’s eyebrows arched up and I knew the answer before he said it. Guys Aren’t very complicated in such matters so it wasn’t hard to see where THIS conversation was headed.

“Nothing of course,” he confirmed, “Just the way God made you… and every man wants to see you… stark naked nude.”

“So I take it that this isn’t going to be exactly anything all that crazy. He doesn’t even want to watch me strip? No lingerie?”

“Well, although it might seem crazy for YOU I’ve a pretty good feeling that it’s going to be SUPER crazy for him.”

“Whatever, so is he married? Can I at least know that much about him?”

Steve put his arm around me and hugged me tight against him. “Yes he is but I’m only telling you that because I know how much it gets you off to fuck a married man and before you ask… his wife won’t know a thing about it, and he hasn’t cheated before.”

Sounded good and at the same time it cut out several guys from on the list of men I was thinking were potential candidates.

“So how old is he?” I asked. Steve shook his head so I tried again with, “At you can at least tell me if he’s older or younger than me.”

Steve shook his head again and smiled. “Sorry, can’t divulge any personal information other than marital status.”

I frowned, trying to let him see my frustration but it was useless. He’s never in any mood to care about my feelings when he gets all hot and horny – like he was now based on the huge erection he was sporting.

“So tell me again my darling husband… just how did this all get started anyways?”

Steve sort of huffed but this time, after I’d asked the same question now over a dozen times, he finally caved in and answered me. Apparently he’d been at some strip club after work with some of his friends and the conversation got around to women they’d like to see on the stage. Someone mentioned me and much to Steve’s delight, everyone agreed and the discussion got a little risquÇ as to what they’d like to see me do while up there. One thing led to another and soon in their fantasies I was blowing them and finally fucking each of them on stage in front of the crowd. It was all just male fantasy talk of course and eventually they moved on to another hot wife or girlfriend.

Evidently later in the evening when the drinks had been flowing and the conversational barriers lowered, someone had mentioned to Steve that having sex with me had always been a fantasy of his. Obviously the alcohol was doing the talking as how many men would tell another guy they wanted to fuck his wife – seriously? I would’ve loved to have seen the look on the guy’s face when Steve responded saying he could make that happen! Having had his bluff called, the guy backed down, saying his wife would kill him if she knew he even thought about such things, let alone did them. Then the thing that intrigued me the most came up – he also didn’t want me to know about his feelings for me.

It was the last part that had me really curious. Why in the world would anyone care that I knew he was sexually attracted to me? Heck, if anything I did everything I could so that men WOULD be attracted to me. Was he afraid that if I was aware of his desires that I might be tempted to approach him? If so then he didn’t know me very well. If anything, seeing a man NOT looking at me that way just made me all the more determined to attract his attention. Flirting with a man who was nursing an erection because of me didn’t turn me on nearly as much as getting a guy trying NOT to flirt with me lose the battle.

“So you just told this guy that he could fuck your wife?” I teased Steve, pretending I was flabbergasted. He knew better than to even begin to believe that line.

“Why not? It’s not like I was worried you would say no.”

I smiled at the compliment. My husband knew his wife as well as she knew him!

“But still I have to be blindfolded?”

Steve let out an exaggerated sigh. “Yes, for the five hundredth time YES!”

“So I assume he won’t be saying anything either?”

It was Steve’s turn to roll his eyes. “Like duh, that would sort of defeat the purpose of the blindfold.”

“So then I would recognize his voice,” I deduced. So that meant it was someone a little closer to me daily life. If was just someone I would recognize by his face that would encompass a huge spectrum but now the list was narrowed at least a little.

“Nice try but you’re not going to trick me into revealing who he is, my slutty clever wife, Steve taunted me.

“Well at least you called me a clever slut.”

We both laughed. He knew full well I loved being called a slut. Indeed, it had been one of my dad’s favorite nicknames for me as a teenager – his “little slut”. While I know some women take it as an insult – and it can be when used in the wrong context, for the most part it tells me that the person sees me as a desirable, sexy woman who’s not afraid to use her sexuality to get what SHE wants. That’s foça escort in contrast to a whore who uses her sexuality to do what HE wants. Yep – NEVER call me a whore!

“So what’s the plan my master?” I asked, pretended to be his slave. It was just an act and he knew it. Submissive – yes, slave no. It was a biblical difference that many people fail to understand but meant a lot to me.

“Well, tomorrow night after the girls are in bed he’s going to stop by and fuck you.”

That was it? That was his master plan? The blank look on my face must have conveyed my disappointment.

“I told you it wasn’t going to be anything crazy. He just wants to screw you.”

“Yeah in front of the girls? You know how I feel about that.”

“Don’t worry, even I know better than that! They’ll be in bed and it’s not like this is going to take all night,” Steve said trying to convince me, then he muttered under breath, “At least it better not.”

Huh? What was THAT remark about? And so I asked him and he immediately got that silly look on his face when I know he’s trying to hide something from me, like a little boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar.

“Just saying it better not take too long.”

“Why not?” I pressed, keeping my eyes locked onto his.

“No special reason… wouldn’t want to wake up the girls, right?”

Like I was going to buy that one. Yeah, he was hiding something, that much I was sure of, but what? Why would he care how long the guy fucked me? After all, when we swapped I usually spent the entire night with the other guy so it wasn’t like even a couple of hours would be anything special. Something was up that he wasn’t telling me. Hmmmmmm…

Then it hit me. Again, it’s not like guys are all that hard to figure out. All I had to do was think what sort of stupid thing would he and his friends come up with under the circumstances. It had to be… guys will bet on anything, right?

“So how long did you bet he would last?”

There was no way he was expecting me to figure out his little secret so easily so he wasn’t prepared for such a direct question – and the guilty look on his expression betrayed him instantly.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” he tried to make out as if he didn’t know what I meant. All it did was confirm that I’d hit the nail on the head.

“Come on, tell me. I can’t believe you guys bet on this! So just how many guys are in on this?”

Poor Steve, he looked so guilty! Well, it wasn’t like it wasn’t his fault. He’s a guy after all.

“Six total, counting me and him,” he confessed but then countered with, “But I can’t tell you… that would be cheating, don’t you agree?”

I guess that depended on how you looked at it. If I DID know his bet would I help to make him win.. or work to make sure he didn’t? In any case I just nodded. Then another thought hit me.

“If those guys all know, how come the rest didn’t want to fuck me?”

The disappointing tone of my voice wasn’t lost on my husband. Heck, if I was going to go through all this for one guy, why not five – six if you counted my husband.

Steve leaned over and kissed me, his hand fondling my boobs as he almost always did whenever we kissed. “God I love you Kelly… you’re such a damn slut.”

Hmmmmmm, two slut compliments in one conversation. Not bad!

In the end he never did answer so I just had to assume things just worked out as they did without knowing the full story behind them. I couldn’t help but grin to myself wondering how many of them had already fucked me. It wasn’t like he’d told me yet who he’d been out that night with.

By then his hands had worked their way down between my legs.

“Hmmmmmm, someone’s getting horny thinking about getting laid tomorrow night,” Steve teased me.

I reached down and grasped his erection through his boxer shorts which he was still wearing for whatever reason. “Oh yeah? Well, seems someone else seems to be pretty horny thinking about watching me.”

“Actually I was thinking more about fucking you right now,” he growled as he lifted me up and headed to bed with me…

Yep, now THAT’s what I love about fulfilling my husband’s fantasies…

Chapter 3 – Fulfilling the Fantasy


As Steve had said, it wasn’t like this was all that complicated. The next night our daughters went to bed on time for once – it was almost like they knew what their parents were planning and were doing their best to be good girls. Once it was confirmed they were passed out for the evening, Steve texted a message to someone. He didn’t show it to me of course but I had a pretty good idea who it went to. Well, not by name of course but that really didn’t matter at this point.

“OK, strip girl,” Steve demanded as soon as he entered our bedroom where I was sitting on the edge of the bed. It wasn’t like I had all that much to take off – just one of his dress shirts that he enjoyed seeing me wear around the house.

“Here, I think these should work, what do you think?” he asked, holding izmir escort out what appeared to be taken from his last flight.

“Really? Airline eye covers?” I teased him.

He just grinned and placed them on my head. “Here, let’s try them before he gets here.”

Handing them to me, I pulled the elastic over my head and arranged the eye covers in place. For better or worse, they worked pretty darn good! The room had gone pitch black.

“How many fingers?”

“Steve! I can’t see anything,” I scolded him. Pulling the covers quickly up to my forehead, I looked and smiled replying, “Two!”

“Now no cheating like that, OK?” Steve asked me sounding a little bit worried.

“Oh don’t get your shorts in a knot, I promise to be a good girl.”

Steve laughed a little at that one. “Trust me, the LAST thing anyone wants is for you to be a good girl tonight!”

“Well I guess that depends on what I’m being good at doesn’t it?” I purred seductively, tugging at his belt.

“Later slut… later,” he teased me back.

“I’ll remember you promised!” I laughed, falling back on the bed. My hand instinctively went to my pussy. God I was so horny! Just then there was a knock on the door.

“Put the shades on!” Steve urged me. It only took a moment and then I started to sit up. “No, stay like you were… play with yourself… God you look so fucking hot when you do that!”

Like he had to ask me twice!

As I started to masturbate I heard Steve leave the room to answer the door. It wasn’t long before he was back and from the sounds of the footsteps he wasn’t alone.

“There she is, just as I promised… naked and horny.”

Oh what I would have given to take just a peek to see the loo on the guy’s face! Like who WAS he? How old was he? Was he fat – was that why he didn’t want me to see him? OMG, was I going to be crushed!

As my thoughts started to go off course I could hear the guy undressing. I just assumed he would get naked but then not every man was exactly thrilled about undressing in front of another dude, at least not outside the locker room. The blinders over my eyes pretty much shut out everything but there was enough leakage around the edges that I could tell the lights were still on.

“Sorry, no pics,” I heard Steve say. Whew, that was good. Last thing I needed was some unknown guy running around with naked pictures of me! It was one thing for my dad and husband to have literally gigabytes of photos of me, at least I knew those were safe, but not anyone else. Even when we swapped we always stuck with the rule that cameras and cell phones were off limits. You just can’t be too careful these days as once it’s out there on the Internet you can never take it off. Especially being a teacher I have to be extra careful about what was posted on-line of me.

“Just look at her,” Steve gushed, obviously proud of me, “Bet your wife doesn’t do THAT for you, does she?”

By “that” he had to mean masturbating since that was all I was doing at the moment other than just lying there exposing my naked body to a stranger (assuming he even WAS a stranger of course). Yeah, it was something I learned back when I first started dating – men just LOVE watching me play with myself. Not that I mind doing it of course. What I found absurd, though, was how hung up most guys are about jerking their dicks in front of me (or anyone else for that matter from what I’ve been told). I remember sleepovers where all of us would be playing with ourselves and nobody cared who saw us. But Steve told me that guys would never even think of doing anything like that, let alone help one another out if they got horny enough as sometimes happened with me and my friends.

I took his comment as a hint as well as a compliment and pushed my middle finger deep into my wet pussy, moaning a little as I put on a bit of a show. It’s always nice to see the reaction of the guy, especially when I push my fingers inside of me, so I was missing that feedback but in some ways my imagination more than made up for what I was missing.

“Go on… I think she’s ready,” Steve encouraged him with a playful tone to his voice. “Remember the rules – no anal, nothing rough. After all, she IS my wife you know!”

God I love my husband! Even at a time like this when he had me totally submissive to him (and whoever), he still cared enough about me to ensure I was treated right. It’s that sacred marital bond, that unconditional love, the complete trust, that allows me to submit to him in a way I could never submit to any other man other than my father. It’s the key between biblical submission and just kinky sex – the trust and love between us.

I felt the bed move as he climbed up next to me. My heart was racing – what would he do first? Would he want to kiss me? Maybe touch me all over? Then who knows, maybe he’d just want to go straight for the sex? Not being able to see him, to see where he was looking or the expression on his face, kept me from having any advance warning as to his intentions but they became clear pretty fast as I felt his hand on my ankle. The room was suddenly so quiet as Steve must have stepped back and decided to start watching and quit yakking. Without him being able to say anything, there was nothing to create any noise – except me of course, and at the moment I was focused entirely on that hand around my ankle.

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