Thin Ice

This story contains graphic sex and is intended for the entertainment of adults only. It also contains descriptions of cuckoldry and wife sharing. If that is not your thing, please move on to another story - different strokes for different folks.

Comments and ratings are welcome!

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She lowered the blinds and went over to the mantel, her face puckering in concentration as she struck a match. She lit two candles then shook out the match and looked over at him.

"Hi," she said softly. She turned off the floor lamp, kicked off her shoes and sashayed across the living room rug.

"Hi," he said. He smiled. "Did you have a nice time at the party?"

"Oh yes," she said. "Did you?" She was right in front of him now and reached her arms up around his neck. He dipped his face and kissed her.

"It was okay," he said, then kissed her again. "I think I would have had more fun at home alone with you."

"Mmm," she said. "Yes, well, here we are now. Alone." She reached down and gripped the front of his pants. "My memory is that last time we went to one of Michelle's parties we had an especially nice time afterwards."

"That's true," he agreed.

"Do you remember why?" she asked.

"I think so," he said.

"Tell me," she said.

"I think," he said. "That you flirted with one of the men there and you wouldn't tell me who."

She batted her eyelashes. "I couldn't tell you who it was," she said. "I wouldn't want you to get all jealous." She reached up and undid the top button of her blouse.

"Was he there again tonight?" he asked.

"Oh yes," she said. "I was really hoping he would be." She took his hand and kissed it, then undid another button.

"I was wondering," he said. "But I didn't see you..."

"Flirting?" Another button.

"Right."

"Well," she said. "When we shook hands at the beginning I squeezed his hand." She smiled and undid anther button. A lacy black bra peeked out at him. He licked his lips.

"A nice hand squeeze?" he asked. "That's all?"

"Maybe a little more," she said. "I've been thinking about him, you know." She opened another button and pulled the blouse out of her skirt.

"I know," he said. "You reminded me about him, once or twice."

"Mmm," she said. "You never objected." One more button opened.

"What else did you do?" He reached down and undid her last button then laid his hand on her belly, smiling.

"Maybe," she said. "When I kissed him on the cheek to say hello, I whispered in his ear and told him that I wasn't wearing anything under my skirt." She reached back and unzipped her skirt. It fell in a circle of fabric around her feet. Her legs and belly shone in the glow from the candles. Her blouse hung down, framing her navel and pubic hair.

He gasped. "Wow," he said. He stared down, then looked back at her face.

"Why don't you get down on your knees?" she asked softly. "So you can get a good look at her?"

He knelt down on the rug.

"She's had a nice evening," she whispered. "I thought, you know, I mostly keep her cooped up in her little triangular cotton home. But she deserves a treat now and then. An outing."

"And you told him?"

"Maybe I did," she said. "What do you think?"

"Jesus," he told her. "I ... well did you?"

"Tell him?"

"Yeah!"

She smiled and lay down on the rug, spreading her thighs apart with her knees raised. "I think you should give her a nice kiss," she said softly. "She's been waiting so patiently and you know she's not very good at waiting."

He looked at her then lowered his face between her legs.

"Oh," she said. "Oh, that's good." She reached down and twisted her fingers in his hair. "That's very good." She sighed. "Slowly." She rocked her hips and ground up against his mouth. "I was getting dressed for the party," she said hoarsely. "And when I put on my skirt, I thought about him and it felt... perfect. Not to put them on."

He lifted his face. "Is he sexy?"

"Oh God, yes," she said immediately. "Sexy doesn't begin to describe him."

"What does he look like?"

"I told you," she said with a hint of coyness. "I'm not telling you who he is or what he looks like. Why did you stop licking me?"

"I don't think he exists," he said. "I think you're just telling me this to get me hot."

She laughed. "Nope," she said. "But it is getting you hot, isn't it?"

He got up on his knees and started to unbuckle his belt. "Did you really tell him about your pussy being bare?" he insisted.

"I might have," she said. "It might have slipped out."

He unzipped his pants and pulled them halfway down. "I'm going to slip in," he told her.

She sat up, extended her hand and grabbed his cock. "Wow," she said. "He's like a pistol."

He leaned forward and dug his face into her shoulder. "I want to fuck you," he whispered.

"Mmm," she replied. "Yes. That would be nice."

She lay back down and he lowered himself and thrust forward. His hips started to move.

"Slowly," she said. "Yes, like that."

"You need to tell Ataşehir Yabancı Escort me," he growled.

"What?" she asked.

"Did you tell him? About your pussy?"

"I don't quite remember," she said, laughing. "I talked to a lot of people."

"But..."

She leaned up and kissed him slowly, a long deep kiss. "Hush," she whispered. "Just fuck me."

He made a long contented noise. His hips were moving languorously now.

"I like it that we're not naked," she whispered. "It feels... secret. Like we're just stealing a fuck in somebody's back room." She kissed him. "You know?"

"You're so sexy," he murmured. "The way you unbuttoned your blouse and flashed your pussy at me."

"You liked that?" she thrust her hands under his shirt and up his back. "Mmm, ropy muscles," she said.

"Does he have ropy muscles?" he asked.

"Who?" she asked innocently, tracing her hands down his back.

"Him," he said impatiently. "The man at the party."

"I don't know about his back," she said. "We've never been this close."

"Ha."

"But his arms sure are." She reached out and felt his arms. "Yours aren't bad, either," she added.

He slid his hands around and gripped her wrists, pinning her arms down, then lowered his face to hers, kissing her hard. His hips kept up their rhythm.

"What else?" he asked hoarsely.

"What else what?"

"What else does he have?"

"Mmm," she said. "What do you mean?"

"What makes you say he's so sexy?" His thrusting was getting faster and harder.

"Mmm, I don't know," she said. "He just is... some people just are."

He slowed down his hips and lowered his face, nuzzled her neck and collarbone.

"Are you thinking about him now?" he asked.

"While we're fucking?"

"Yes."

"Sort of," she said. She looked up at him, amused. "All I have to do is close my eyes." She fluttered her eyelids then closed them.

He released her wrists and reached into her blouse with one of his hands. "He's caressing your breasts," he whispered. "You can feel his palms on your nipples right through your bra."

She gave a little delighted moan.

"You're both partially clothed," he continued. "He has his cock out, rubbing against you."

"Wait," she said. She reached into her blouse and undid the catch on the front of her bra. Her breasts came free. He leaned on one elbow and stroked her breasts with the other, teasing her nipples. "God," she said.

"You can hear the people in the next room," he whispered. "Anybody could walk in on you at any moment."

Her hips were writhing now, she was rising up to meet him.

"There isn't much time," he said. "But you need him inside you." He ran a hand between her breasts and up to her neck, then leaned down and kissed her again.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him.

"You were naked under your skirt," he said.

She swallowed. "I was," she said. "It felt so sexy."

"Did you really tell him that you were bare?"

"Maybe," she said. She laughed. He leaned down and stifled her laugh with a kiss.

"Mmm," she said.

"You thinking about him?" he asked.

"Yes," she said dreamily. She closed her eyes again.

"My lips on yours," he said. He leaned down and kissed her. "His lips. His hands on your breasts." He paused. "He wants to fuck you."

"I know," she said. "God. Keep doing it."

"Did you tell him?" he asked.

"Don't ask," she said. "Just fuck me."

He reached under her and squeezed her ass. Her hips jerked up.

"How would it feel?" he asked. "Having his cock inside you?"

"I don't know," she said quickly. "Just fuck me."

He slid a finger into her asshole. "Did you want him to fuck you?"

"I don't know," she said. "Please. Just. Oh, God."

He pushed in her asshole. "He wants to fuck you," he repeated. She was whimpering now.

"Yes!" she cried. "Yes!"

"You want him to fuck you!"

"Yes!" she cried again.

"Like this!" His hips were bucking and his hands were squeezing and pushing. "Fucking you like this!"

She howled and pounded on his shoulders with her fists. "Fuck me!" she moaned. Her legs were flung around his ass, pulling him down to her. "Yes," she cried. "Yes. Oh God, yes!"

"Yes!" he yelled. Then he groaned and shuddered and his cock erupted inside her.

----

When he got out of the shower the next morning she was sitting at her mirror applying makeup. He padded over and kissed the top of her head.

"You're dripping on me," she told him.

"You're gorgeous," he said. She was wearing a lacy red robe with a subtle floral pattern. He slipped his hands onto her shoulders. The towel around his waist untied and fell to the floor. He leaned forward and pressed his erection into the back of her neck.

She laughed. "Stop it," she said. "I have to get to work and we both just showered."

"Feel how hard he is," he said. She reached back and squeezed his cock.

"Poor boy," she said. "Didn't he have enough fun last night?"

"Only Ataşehir Yeni Escort twice," he protested.

"Uh, no," she said. "Twice at bedtime and then again this morning."

"I lost my scorecard," he told her. He wiggled his hips, feeling her hand rubbing on his cock.

"You're incredible," she said. She turned around kissed the tip of his cock.

"God," he moaned. She smiled at him.

"We can get back to it tonight," she said.

"I'm going to be gone tonight," he protested. "Remember, I'm in Boston."

"Oh," she said. She looked up at him. "I'm really sorry," she said. "There just isn't time."

He leaned down and kissed her, his tongue heavy in her mouth. One of his hands slid down and cupped her breast through the sheer robe. She made a little sound.

"I'm so turned on," he murmured.

"Jesus," she said.

"Aren't you?" he asked her.

"Yes," she admitted. "It would be nice."

"We have time," he urged her.

"Stop it," she said. She shook her head. "Just because I told you a sexy story."

"It's really hot," he said. "And not just for me."

She gripped his cock again. "Yeah," she admitted. "It is. Hot, I mean."

"So did you tell him?"

"About my pussy being bare?"

"Yeah."

She grinned mischievously. "Maybe," she said.

"Jesus!" he said.

"What does it matter if I really told him?" she asked. "It's a fun thought, we both have fun with it..."

"You said you wanted him to fuck you."

"You were fucking me at the time," she protested. "I didn't mean it."

"Do you want him to fuck you?"

"Don't be ridiculous! It was just a hot story."

"You said he's sexy," he insisted. "Incredibly sexy."

"Oh, honey - it was just..."

"I wouldn't be surprised," he said. "If you wanted to fuck him."

She stared at him. "It's just a story," she said again, after a pause.

He leaned over and kissed her savagely. He pressed his cock forward into her. Then he broke the kiss. "Tell me honestly," he said softly. "Did you really tell him you were naked under your skirt?"

She looked up at him. "Yes," she said. "I did."

---

He made his flight to Boston but only by sprinting from the security checkpoint to the gate. There had been no question of just getting dressed and going to the airport or the office - both of them were too turned on for that. He'd lain on his back on the bed while she squatted over him and teased herself with his cock, then lowered herself until he had disappeared inside her. She rocked and shimmied and pressed against him, controlling the tempo and cadence as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. He lifted himself off the bed, pushing down with his feet so that his legs and his cock were up in the air, supporting her as she clung to him and rubbed her clit against him.

"I need to fuck you," he'd murmured after her third (or was it her fourth?) orgasm and she'd rolled off him and lain face down while he drove into her from behind, roaring out her name and pouring into her after only a handful of strokes.

There had barely been time for more showers and a hurried kiss before each sped off. He'd caught a cab and then sat sweating in traffic, cursing the uncooperative lights and oblivious pedestrians. In the security line something in his bag had flagged him for extra screening and he knew there was nothing to be gained by trying to rush things along. He kept a shit-eating grin glued to his face and thanked the officer, then ran, full out, just getting to the gate before they closed the door.

Christ, he thought. What a night. What a morning. What a wife, what a fucking red hot firecracker of a woman. He closed his eyes and thought about looking up at her, watching her face change as the pleasure built and rolled through her body. They hadn't had sex like that since... well, since the last time they had gone to a party at Michelle's.

It was fantastic, it was beyond belief.

The plane was taxiing and he was aware, now that he was sitting still in one place, that, as excited as he was, there was another feeling inside him. A little bubble of anxiety, a worry that what they were doing wasn't right. Wasn't smart.

When they were actually fucking, or even just turning each other on, when his cock was driving the ship and his brain was just enjoying the scenery, he was absolutely, totally blown away by the idea of her whispering in that other ear. His cock could think of nothing sexier than what she had done and for his cock, sexy was all that mattered.

But... his brain was worried. He didn't want her to think he wanted her to fuck around. Did he? His cock stirred in his pants. Shut up, he told it, but he could feel it unfolding and extending itself. Brain, schmain, it seemed to be saying. I just want to get hard and sink myself into a nice juicy cunt.

---

It was not a productive day. He picked up the rental car and drove out to the suburbs, making it in time for lunch, then meetings and dinner and then a few drinks with the clients. He'd been doing this Ataşehir Masaj Salonu long enough that the clients' concerns were nothing new. He tried to keep focused, or at least to appear focused.

He tried to call her before dinner but the call went straight to voicemail. Either she had her phone turned off or it was out of juice. He sent her a text to tell her he was going to dinner and hopefully they'd connect later.

He was back in his room, brushing his teeth in his underwear when he heard the jingle from his laptop that meant a video call. He spat out the toothpaste and ran out to the bedroom. It was her.

"Hey," he said. "So good to see you." He grinned foolishly. He felt a little lightheaded, just looking at her in her sexy red robe, her breasts visible through the sheer material.

"I know," she said. "Me too." They gazed at each other for a few seconds, then she laughed. "You've got toothpaste on your chin!"

"Oops." He wiped if off.

"Sorry I missed your call," she said. "My phone was dead and I was out to dinner so I didn't notice it."

"Yeah," he said. "I figured."

"How was your day?"

"Ah, you know," he said. "Meetings. Holding the customer's hand while they whine. Usual shit."

She made a sympathetic sound.

"How about you?" he asked.

"Mostly okay," she said.

"Just okay? I won't take that personally."

"After you left!"

"Not so bad before that?" He grinned.

"You know it wasn't," she said. "It was amazing." She smiled at him.

"Sexy bitch," he said.

"Mmm," she said. "Why are you so far away?"

"I know," he said. "All day long I was thinking I wanted to be home with you tonight."

"Really?" she asked. "What would you do if you were?"

"I'd think of something."

"Mmm," she said. "Your thoughts seem to be repetitive."

"Does that mean you don't like the lines they run on?"

She laughed. "Hardly."

He stood up in front of the computer. His cock was pushing out the front of his undershorts. "Hard is the word," he said.

"Oh my," she said. "Let me see him."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Aren't you going to at least open your robe?"

"You first," she said. "I'll go next. I want to see what you've been carrying around all day. Was it awkward in your meetings?"

He pried his briefs off and dropped them on the floor.

"Now hold on to him," she said. He circled himself with his right hand and gave a squeeze.

"Your turn," he said.

Her face grew huge as she leaned forward and picked up the computer then brought it over to the bed. She perched it near the foot and then piled up some pillows at the head and leaned back against them. She looked at him on the screen. "He looks really hard," she said.

"Open up," he said impatiently. "I want to see you."

She smiled, undid the sash of her robe and opened it. Her body glowed. He rubbed himself and swayed from side to side.

"Touch yourself," he said in a throaty voice.

She pulled up her knees and put a hand on her pussy. "I've been thinking about you all day," she said. "How it felt when I fucked you this morning."

"God," he said.

"Your cock was sticking up in the air," she continued. "And I grabbed it and rubbed it against my clit. Kind of like this." She demonstrated with a finger.

"Jesus," he said.

"Then," she said. "I wanted you inside me. Do you remember that? How I pulled you up inside me?"

"Fuck," he said, still swaying.

She watched him, rubbing herself. "I need to tell you something," she said softly.

"Hmm?"

"You remember that man at the party last night?"

"Yes..."

"I went out to dinner with Michelle tonight. And he was there."

"What? Where?"

"He was in the bar of the restaurant. I think Michelle must have told him we would be there." She was rubbing herself slowly, watching his face. "She's pretty sharp at noticing things."

He had stopped rubbing himself. "What happened then?"

"Nothing much," she said. "He came over to the table and said hello."

"That was all?"

"Well... why aren't you moving your hand?"

"I'm listening to you."

"You can listen and jack off at the same time. I've even seen you read and jack off at the same time."

He started to move his hand again. "What did you mean by 'well...'?"

"Do you really want to hear?" she asked playfully.

"My God," he said. "Don't stop."

"Well," she said. "I went to the bathroom and when I came out he was waiting in the hallway, to go in, I guess. Or maybe not. Anyway..." She paused.

"What happened?"

"I told you," she said. "He is just this incredibly hot, attractive man, and he was standing there, looking me over appraisingly, like he was amused, thinking 'I know you were naked under your skirt yesterday evening'. It was mortifying, it made me feel like I was standing in front of him naked right there and then."

"Jesus!"

"My knees got all weak," she said dreamily. "I couldn't stop looking into his eyes." She stopped talking and sighed, caressing herself.

"What then?" he asked. He was rubbing himself again, vigorously.

"He took my hands and kissed them, the fingers, the backs, then the palms. Then he leaned forward and kissed my mouth."

There was a pause. "Then what?" he asked softly.