My wife, Rachel, is one of those women in their late 30's who still look like they're in their early 20's. Other than a few gray hairs she colors away, it's hard to tell she is over 30, much less that she's coming up on her 40th birthday. It doesn't hurt that we've never had kids, but Rachel always looked hot.
Rachel has longish brunette hair, is on the petite side at 5'2", and weighs about 115 lbs. She has amazing, natural 34D breasts. She keeps herself in good shape, running on weekends and occasionally a yoga class or two.
Rachel constantly worries about her age and her figure, though. I suppose it's only natural for a woman to worry about her appearance, but I catch younger guys checking her out all the time. Sometimes girls are even checking her out! She has a confident, graceful demeanor that people notice right away. As her 40th birthday approached, she fretted more and more about getting old, her boobs sagging or men not finding her attractive.
I would constantly tease her, offering her a bet that she could take home any guy she wanted. I have always fantasized about my wife having sex with another man, so I was only joking enough to maintain plausible deniability. She would always roll her eyes or blow me off with a "you wish." But then, one day, she didn't.
I had just come back from a business trip, and we hadn't had sex for a few weeks before I left. Before I even put my bags down, Rachel jumped me in the hallway. We had angry, passionate, animal sex—the best we had had in a while. After I caught my breath, Rachel stirred from her post-orgasmic stupor. She got up to go to the bathroom, wrapping her blue, silk robe around herself. She looked at me, as if she wasn't sure how to say what she wanted to say.
"People don't really have sex with other people, do they," she asked innocently. This launched us into a 20 minute discussion on infidelity, swinging and multiple partners. Rachel is not naïve, but she had the opinion that swingers were not in a real, loving, marriage. Having no experience, I couldn't tell her anything but what I'd read.
"So why the sudden interest," I asked. "Do you have somebody in mind?"
"No, it's just, you know—I'd like to know if men are still attracted to me."
"Trust me, we are." She smiled. "Look, honey, I'm being 100% honest here, I have no problem with you having sex with another man, because I know you love me. As long as you tell me about it, I promise I won't get jealous."
"We'll see," she said, playfully throwing a pillow at me. She went back into the living room to watch TV, and I stayed in bed, thinking of my Rachel with another man. I worked myself into a frenzy, thinking she might have experimented while I was out of town.
About 20 minutes later, I came out into the living room with a raging hard on, bent my wife over the sofa and pounded her until I shot another massive load into her wet pussy. When we recovered, again, she turned to me and said, "Well, I guess it really does turn you on!"
For the next few weeks, I fantasized about Rachel having sex with another man. I would tell her my fantasies as we fucked or she sucked me off. The fantasies escalated from tame (kissing and touching), to soft swinging (blow jobs) to full on sex (jumping the grocery boy in a back alley) to premeditated dates ending in multiple nights in hotels before she came back to me, and tortured me with the details.
Whenever we weren't screwing our brains out like it was our honeymoon, Rachel was masturbating, more and more frequently. But there were still times that she had low self esteem, so we finally got around to joining a gym together.
We found a sports club with a pool, a sauna and all the amenities, so I could chill out while Rachel went crazy fitness boot camp. After a few weeks, both of our energy levels were much higher, and the sex was getting more and more acrobatic (and an endurance trial for me). I had to start exercising seriously just to have the stamina to keep up with my new little sexpot of a wife.
Rachel was taking her new health kick seriously, but after a few more weeks, she felt she hit a plateau. I suggested she hire a personal trainer, and she said, "Yeah, I tried that. They put me with some girly girl that was all ribbons and bows, so I asked for another trainer. They put me with this woman who reminded me of my high school gym teacher, and not in a good way."
"Wow," I said, not realizing she had already moved on this. "So, do we need to find another gym?"
"No," Rachel said happily and confidently. "I talked to the assistant manager, Mike. He was really cool and volunteered to train me himself. We're getting together tomorrow afternoon."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I found it interesting that Rachel was okay using a male trainer. Okay, I admit, it was a turn on. For a while, I did not raise this guy Mike in our fantasy sessions. I was worried that it would make it too real for Rachel and she would get turned off. I also had no idea which of the guys at the gym was Mike, and tried not to figure it out and risk spoiling my fantasy. For a few weeks, I just imagined what he looked like, and jerked off thinking of my sweet, innocent Rachel getting fucked by some random, hulking stud.
One night, though, I got a little carried away. I was fucking Rachel from behind and she had her eyes closed tight. I could tell she was fantasizing about fucking another man, so I teased her. "Is this how you let him fuck you, huh? Do you like his cock inside you? Are you his eager little slut?" I kept teasing her. I could tell she was getting into it, and lost my composure and made it expressly about Mike.
"Do you let him fuck you at the gym? Huh? Does Mike get to fuck you when you're all hot and sweaty? I bet you sneak into the shower you suck him off in there, don't you? Huh? You like that, you little slut?"
Her face got flushed and she buried her head into the mattress. She muffled her screams but I could hear her, "Oh god, yes, fuck me Mike, fuck me harder." My name is not Mike, but I fucked her slutty little brains out. I must have shot a gallon of hot cum into her, and she had an incredibly intense orgasm, and passed out sleeping for a few hours. I decided that I needed I know who this Mike guy was.
The next day, I left work early and got to the gym around the time my wife was supposed to be there. To my disappointment, I saw her working out alone-no Mike. I tried to casually ask at the desk, but the girl there said that he was off today. I ran into Rachel on my way into the locker-room.
"What are you doing here," she asked. I don't always see her at the gym because her office is so much closer to home.
"I'm a little tense from work. I thought I'd get a sauna, maybe some laps in the pool."
"Good," she said. She was in workout mode, so I left her to it and headed to the locker room. It was early in the afternoon, so they gym was mostly empty except for housewives and employees. When I got to the locker room where the men's sauna was, I stripped down and grabbed a towel.
There was only one other guy in the sauna. I hadn't seen him before, but I gave him the acknowledgment head nod and took a seat on the opposite bench. He was tall, very athletic and good looking. Neither of us were in a talking mood, and we both sat with our eyes closed and heads tilted back, enjoying the heat.
Like I usually do, I started to imagine that this guy was Mike, and began to fantasize about him fucking Rachel. I would steal a glance at his six pack abs and his sweaty chest, imagining my wife overcome with lust, draping herself all over him. I imagined her sitting right there in front of me, his hand grabbing her ponytail and her pretty head bobbing up and down in his lap. She was sucking his massive cock as I watched her pussy get wetter and wetter, her ass wiggling seductively.
Not surprisingly, after a very short while I had a raging hard on. The heat and the fantasy made it very hard to hide it. I tried pressing my forearm into my lap, which didn't really help. I was pretty sure the guy was asleep. He started pitching a tent himself. I assumed he was enjoying his own fantasy.
His hard on was enormous, though. I'm not gay or bi, but seeing this guy's cock and already imagining him fucking Rachel with it, it was all I could do to not pull my cock out and jerk off right there. Fortunately, some old geezer opened the sauna door. The guy across from me jumped up and looked a little embarrassed about his erection. The old dude quietly grabbed the bench between us and shortly thereafter, the younger guy got up and left.
My hard on died pretty quickly with the old geezer not even bothering to cover up his junk. I headed for the showers a few minutes later. The shower was empty, so I hung my towel up and started washing up. I zoned out for a bit, and let the water run over me. I turned around and saw the young stud from the sauna showering a few spots over. He gave me a sheepish head nod, still somewhat embarrassed from the hard on, I guess.
His cock was in fact massive. Even flaccid, I could tell it was a whopper. I could also tell that he was in incredibly good shape. Not an ounce of fat and completely shaved. I tried not to stare, but I couldn't help thinking about my innocent wife, Rachel wrapped around him.
I turned the water to colder to kill my growing chubby and headed back to my locker to get my swim trunks on. A few minutes later, the guy showed up at the locker right next to me. He laughed nervously and said, "Dude, I swear I'm not a stalker."
"Okay," I said, kind of amused.
He shook his head, obviously having one of those, "I can't believe I have to explain this" moments. "It's just—I was embarrassed about the sauna..." I tried to cut him off by raising my hand, but he kept going. "I mean, I was just fantasizing about this woman I know. She was in the gym earlier, and I couldn't get her out of my head."
"No problem, man," I said, trying not to betray my own fantasies. I could tell he was a nice guy, and what guy hasn't been infatuated with a woman? As I walked out, I decided to give him some fatherly advice, "you should go after her, man. Women want it as much as we do."
He laughed and shook his head. "Thanks dude, but she's married."
"Let that be her choice," I said shrugging. He laughed, but I knew that it was the truth. I was also imagining I was talking about my own wife.
I headed for the pool and got a good swim, still thinking about stud boy and Rachel. I got out and got dressed quickly, hoping to catch Rachel and suggest we grab dinner on the way home. She was still at the desk when I got there. "Still here," I asked.
"Oh, hi!" She nearly jumped out of her skin. My wife seemed a bit flustered, which was really weird for her. "Um, yeah, I was just, I just, um, I just ran into someone." She stammered as she walked in my direction, but seemed to be shooing me away. I backpedalled a little, and looked behind me to see if she was leading me somewhere. "I'll see you later," she said, forcing a casual tone. Just as I turned back to her, the office door opened. Rachel had moved back toward the desk, so it looked like we weren't together.
"Here's my number, call me anytime," stud boy from the sauna said, as handed a slip of paper to my wife. His name tag said "Michael." Rachel had turned her face and shoulders as far away from me as she could. Mike, who had to be about 6'4", was as sheepish as school boy and also beet red. Because of the distance between Rachel and I, and because he was staring at her overflowing sports bra, Mike didn't notice that I was even there, much less that I was Rachel's husband.
When he looked up, I winked and gave him a thumbs up before Rachel could turn around. I grabbed a random pamphlet from the other end of the desk and walked out, pretending I wasn't with Rachel. Rachel did her best to avoid turning my way. She stared at the slip of paper with the stud's phone number, which fluttered in rhythm with her nervous little fingers.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
That night, after we fucked our brains out, Rachel told me it was just harmless flirting. I saved my earlier interaction with Mike for myself. It was fun watching Rachel get all excited about a new boy, and trying to figure out whether he liked her. Especially when I knew for a fact he had a giant hard on for her, literally.
I tried to reassure her that I was okay with her experimenting. She saw my cock getting harder as I talked about it, but she kept insisting that she was just flirting and it got out of hand. This went on for a few weeks. I would tease Rachel about her workout, and ask if she called Mike for some real "personal" training. She would usually blush a little, and say she doubted he was really interested. Sometimes, she would take the bait and go with the fantasy. We would have a monster fuck session.
About a month later, though, she started getting annoyed when I brought up Mike. I figured we had burned through that fantasy, and she was bored with it. She told me to stop bringing it up, so I dropped it. I tried a few other fantasies, but she didn't want to play anymore, so I dropped the whole cuckold thing completely. We still had great sex, but she didn't want me talking about other men.
A few weeks after that, I was at the gym again and ran into Mike. He recognized me from the sauna, and struck up a conversation.
"I'm not a stalker," he said with an easy smile, "but I am heading to the sauna." I was too, so we went together. I introduced myself, but he still didn't know I was Rachel's husband. I decided to have a little fun and not tell him.
"So how did it go with the hot chick I saw you with that day?" Mike was seated across from me, with his towel loosely around his waist, his legs spread casually.
"Oh, yeah—that's right! Thanks for your advice, man. I gave her my number after you and I talked."
"So..." I prompted, knowing he had been shot down.
"Well, I told you she was married," he said. I give him my best "you win some, you lose some" smile. I debated whether I should tell him that Rachel was my wife. Before I decided, he added, "she took a while to come around, but man, was she worth the wait."
Suddenly, my stomach sunk into my feet, my mouth dried up and my pulse pounded. Against my will, I heard myself ask, "No way! What happened?"
He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Well, at first, she was reluctant, and I thought I had struck out. I'm actually a trainer here, and she's one of my clients," Mike explained. "The next few sessions were kind of awkward. She's normally into her workouts, asking questions; a real serious client. But for a week or two after, she was a lot quieter.
"You saw her that day, right," Mike asked. I could only manage a nod. "She's a petite little firecracker—right? I mean she has the tightest little ass, and those tits—Oh man." Mike leaned back and looked into the ceiling, lost in his memories. He briefly flicked his hand across his cock through the towel as he described my wife to me in graphic detail. I could see he was getting aroused, reliving his memories of my wife's body. "And her face! Oh man! You should see those cute little lips when they're wrapped around my cock."
Mike looked over at me, and caught the shock registering on my face. "Oh, I'm sorry man. You probably don't want to hear this."
"No, man, this is awesome," I heard myself say to Mike. Against my wishes, my cock was straining against the towel and drops of precum were dripping out.
Mike continued, "so about two weeks later, she comes in for her normal workout. I noticed she was still quieter than usual. I'm trying to be professional, so I'm just giving her clinical pointers, but I can't fight this massive chubby every time I see her. She's doing squats on the free weights. Up and down, and I'm just mesmerized by her gorgeous fucking ass in those yoga pants. I'm imagining her squatting that tight little body onto my cock.
"I must have zoned out because I didn't see that the weights were shaking. Here I am imagining burying my cock into that luscious ass, and she's about the drop the weights!" He was smiling as he gave a surreptitious tug on his member through his towel.
"At the last second, I lunge forward and grab the bar from behind her. But she's so much smaller than me, so I got to squat under her, and like I said, I've got a massive chubby going. I lift the weight up to rack it, but she's practically sitting that tight little ass on my cock. I know she can feel it, because I can feel her warmth through my shorts, and I start getting harder, she starts getting flushed, and I look down over her shoulder and so those massive, gorgeous tits bursting out of her bra. My dick is almost fully hard, pressing into her ass, through the yoga pants. I almost came right there.
"So anyway, I rack the weight, and we slowly move apart. I try to keep cool, but we're both a little flustered. She cut her workout short, and I'm thinking she's gonna fire me. Hey, at least I have a good story to jerk off to, right? She takes forever to change," Mike said. I knew that she had probably been masturbating furiously in the locker-room. "When she finally comes out, she just says, 'see you tomorrow.'"
"Wow," I manage. I can feel my own precum dribbling down my thigh.
"The next day, she comes in, and I swear, she's out to tease me. She's rubbing her ass up against me, 'accidently' grabbing my biceps, brushing her hand against my pecks. She even 'accidently' brushed her hand across my cock! No joke! I was standing by the weight rack, and she puts one hand on my hip, pretending to balance, and reaches across my hips with the other, brushing her hand across my cock. She didn't even grab the weight—but you know what she said, all coy?"
"What," I asked, trying to pretend it was against my will.
"She said, 'oh, that's bigger than I thought.' She was trying to say she meant the weight! What a little tease." I couldn't agree more, I thought. "So this goes on for the rest of that week, and then all of a sudden on Friday night, she calls me up."
"When was this? Last Friday?" I don't know why I wanted to know.
"No, it was about a month ago. The 15th, I think it was." I remembered I was out of town for work a few days and had to leave on the red-eye Friday night for a weekend retreat with a client. "She calls me up," Mike continues, "and says, 'do you know a good masseur? I think my neck is bothering me from when I dropped that big, hard, rod.'"
"No way she said that."
"I swear, she did. She was turning it on something fierce. I do sports massage on the side. So I tell her that I can help her with that if she wants. She says, 'Oh, great! Can you come to my place?'"
"What about her husband," I ask.
"That's what I asked. I wasn't sure, but I figured either he's cool with it, or she's a fucking cocktease from hell. Turns out, he was out of town on business. So I get there, and she's wearing nothing but a light blue silk robe." I knew the one he meant. "I'm used to seeing her in her gym outfit and a ponytail, but she's even hotter with her hair down. She tells me to set the table up in the bedroom.
"I try to be professional and turn away while Rachel—that's her name, gets on the table. I turn back and she's buck naked and barely covering her ass with towel that would be small for a facecloth." Mike is giddy telling the story. "She is just oozing with sex appeal. But I'm trying to play this cool. I start doing my massage thing. Using some of the oil I use, asking her where it hurts. But her arm keeps brushing up against my cock, getting less and less subtle each time. And I'm only wearing shorts—I went commando just in case.
"She turned up the heat to like 90 degrees, and with all her teasing, I'm drenching my t-shirt. She tells me to take it off, and I don't see why not. When I turn back, the tiny towel covering her ass has found its way further down, and her ass is practically exposed. My shorts and that tiny towel are the only clothes either of us are wearing.