As my insecurities swirled, he pulled her shirt off and took her nipple into his mouth. She gasped, placing a hand against his broad shoulder. They kissed again before he said, "You wanted a gentleman, didn’t you?" he asked. He leaned her back, spread her legs, and went down on her bare pussy.
From above, I had the perfect view of this—my wife splayed out, naked and beautiful as another man’s head danced between her legs. "Yes. Yes," she moaned. She touched her tits, running her fingers over her nipples, down her flat stomach, into his tousled hair.
They shifted smoothly. Akin fell back to his side of the outdoor couch; Halima pursued, kissing him, groping him through his shorts. "Very nice, Akin," she said between kisses. "Is that for me?"
"You’re a naughty woman," he said.
"Why? Because I can’t wait to suck your dick?"
He groaned. "That’s part of it…"
She slithered onto all fours on the small sofa, pulling his shorts off, freeing his dick. Her eyes never left his. "Or am I naughty because I’m married, and not to you?"
I laughed to myself. That was intended for me, of course, a playful tweak for me. I chuckled, even as it twisted me up inside. The man looked like he was about to stage a protest when Halima dipped down and took him into her mouth. After that, he rocked his head back, lost in the sensation of her wet mouth.
Watching my wife kiss another man was always the hardest. Something about the intimacy of the act—heads together, eyes closed, the touching, the holding. It was sexy, yet difficult to watch. Watching her suck another man’s dick was always the hottest. And Halima knew how to suck dick. There was something sensual about her technique, the way she bathed it with her tongue, the slow movement of her bobbing head, the way she stroked him in time. I could practically feel her going down on me, feeling her taking her time until I was ready to explode.
"You know what the best thing about sucking dick is?" she asked. She stroked him, staring up at him as he barely held on. "It’s submissive, yet powerful."
We had had this conversation before. Those were practically my own words, used to seduce this other man. He didn’t know what to make of her, other than that he wanted her to continue. She didn’t oblige that.
"No more teasing," she said. "Time to fuck."
If kissing was the hardest, and blowjobs were the hottest, then the actual act of sex with another man was the most profound. They made out again as she pulled off his shirt, and I found myself being wound up, tighter and tighter. I watched, barely blinking, not wanting to miss a moment, not a single second.
She climbed into his lap, straddling him, facing away. Facing up. Facing me. I could see it all. Could see his dick slide along her beautiful pussy—my pussy. I watched as he placed his hands on her hips, steadying her, positioning her. She flipped her long hair back, her lips parting as his dickhead pressed against her nether lips. I groaned. And then he was inside of her.
Her moan, high and tight, lit my world on fire. She got used to him, got used to this new man inside of her, invading her, taking her. And then, she began to bounce on his lap, biting her lower lip, rocking her body back along his. I looked down at them, the perfect view of my love in the throes of another.
And then, just as I started to feel edged out of this torrid affair, she opened her eyes and looked up at me. She smiled. Thank you, she said without speaking.