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  • Sandy Steps Out Ch. 01

Sandy Steps Out Ch. 01

I had always thought that my wife didn't really like sex, until I saw her bent over a desk getting fucked by another man. We were at a party, and I wanted to get some air, so I wandered upstairs away from the crowd. As I went down the dark hallway, I heard muffled noises from the end of the hall. There was a door cracked open, with a bit of light leaking out. I went closer, then stopped cold when I finally got a good look through the open door. It was a home office, and my wife was bent over the desk, her hands grasping the far edge. A man was standing behind her, pounding her hard from behind.

They had obviously been going at it for a little while. Her skirt was pushed up around her waist, her sweater was pushed up above her breasts, and they spilled out where he had pulled her bra down. Her head was thrown back and she gasped in pleasure with each thrust. I moved a bit to the side, and recognized the man. John. My wife, Sandy, is very active on local boards and committees, and he was one of the people she often worked with. He's a bit taller than I am, and I could tell in much better shape. His shirt was unbuttoned, open, and it revealed his taut abs that flexed each time his hips thrust forward and back.

Sandy and I are in our mid-forties, and to be honest, look pretty good for our age. A lot of that is just keeping yourself up and not letting yourself go, then you look better compared with everyone else. Sandy might not get your first glance, but on second glance you noticed more. She is a bit short, under 5'4". Her breasts are full, and her lips are lush and inviting. Her blue eyes sparkle with humor, and her shoulder length hair is tinted blonde. Her legs are toned from constant jogging, and they join nicely with the swell of her ass and hips. Hips which John now was grasping firmly as he stroked his cock in and out of her pussy.

I was frozen in shock. Sandy and I were members of the once a week, if that club, and even then, she just didn't really seem to be into it. Typically, I'd get in bed where she was lying on her side watching TV. If I was horny, I'd snuggle up against her, rubbing my cock a bit against her ass. If she wasn't willing, she wouldn't respond, and I'd eventually just turn over. If she was, she'd roll over, and we'd kiss for a bit while she pulled my cock out. She'd stroke me until I was hard, seemingly wanting to just get going. I'd pull her pajama bottoms down, and usually get on top. I'd thrust quickly, while she usually lay there, eyes closed. I have to admit, usually with less than a minute, I'd be cumming.

Sandy usually didn't even take her top off, and we hadn't done it from behind in years. But now her full breasts were bouncing back and forth, and she was being fucked -- and fucked well -- from behind. John kept on going, hard and harder. I knew I should burst in, but instead found myself with a raging hardon in my pants. It only got harder when Sandy reached one had back to rub John's balls. he moaned, and thrust more vigorously. I found myself rubbing my cock through my pants as my wife bit her lip, holding back the cries of her orgasm. I gasped myself, in shame and horror as I found myself spurting in my pants. John kept thrusting, then throwing his head back moaned. I knew he was filling my wife with his hot seed.

They slumped on the desk, then he pulled out. His cock was still semi-hard, and I could see how much bigger he was than me. Cum dripped off the tip, and he grabbed a tissue from the desk, wiping it off before pulling up his pants. Sandy lay slumped on the desk for a bit, smiling slightly, before sitting up to rearrange her clothes. I backed away, then almost ran to a bathroom to clean myself up.

I rejoined the party, my head aswirl. Soon Sandy came down, without John. She looked a bit flushed, but most people would think that was wine. I realized now why she probably wasn't wearing stockings -- she probably wasn't wearing panties either. I wondered if she'd cleaned up, or if even now John's cum was running down her bare thighs.

We didn't stay much longer, and I was quiet on the drive home. Sandy chattered away as though nothing had happened. When we got home, we got ready for bed. She showered, and I immediately started counting up other late night showers I remembered her taking. This couldn't be the first time John and Sandy had fucked. They must have done it a lot, and it was only their rush to screw that kept them from noticing the door hadn't closed fully.

She joined me in bed in her flannel pajamas, turning her back to me to watch TV. Lying there thinking of John behind my wife, her head thrown back in pleasure, being drilled by his hard rod, I found myself getting hard again myself. Harder than I'd been in awhile. I spooned her, rubbing insistently against her ass, cupping her breasts through the flannel top. She didn't move at first, but I began kneading her breasts, pulling on her nipples through the fabric. She rolled over, pulling down her pants as she did so and lifting her legs up and apart.

I immediately moved between them, and rubbing my swollen head against her pussy-lips, slid easily in. Her eyes opened as I did so, maybe because my cock hadn't been this hard in a long time, and she could feel it. I closed my eyes though, the image of John and Sandy fucking burned in my mind, and began thrusting desperately. Sandy actually began to move bit under me, but the thought of knowing John's cock had been where mine was right now drove me over the edge, and with a shuddering moan I came, harder than I'd come in a long time.

I felt my cock twitch its last, then rolled off. Sandy kind of sighed, went to clean up, then got into bed. She fell asleep quickly, but I lay awake long into the night, tortured by my thoughts.

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