Priscilla's Hot Summer

by Tony Tiger

Copyright© 2016 by Tony Tiger

Erotica Sex Story: A young married couple deal with the pleasures and emotions of sharing the wife with a close friend.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Fiction   Wife Watching   .

I have always wanted my wife Priscilla to do a threesome with one of our friends, but whereas it came close a few times, it never happened.

She always broke it off at the last moment, "Oh Bobbie," she'd say, "how can I face him tomorrow?" So it never happened!

That is ... it never happened until that fateful summer.

We were young, married about a year; the apartment was small, our bedroom, a small guestroom and a living-dining-kitchen combo. Tom moved into the guestroom in June and that started an unbelievably sensuous summer.

Lovemaking was an immediate problem ... the walls were paper-thin! Our secondhand bed creaked and Priss strangled her orgasms with her face pressed into the pillow.

"My God, Bobbie ... he'll hear me ... I know he will..." she'd pant.

"Honey ... the whole world knows we make love at night."

"But the bed creaks so ... oh God..."

But somehow, the idea of him hearing my wife cumm was exciting and I'd urge her into a grunty climax. She'd bite the pillow and toss her hips franticly and the bed would squeak as the brain numbing feeling washed through her quivering belly. The next morning she would look at Tom with an embarrassed face, but gradually she got over it.

Occasionally she would forget he was there and walk into the kitchen with her blouse off. "Oh my," she'd blush and cover her bra covered breasts as she hustled back to the bedroom. But I would say, "Priss ... what's the big deal?" And little by little she relaxed.

It was like pulling on the loose thread of a sweater. Her inhibitions gradually started to unravel. Being caught a few times in just her bra and panties set in motion the unraveling of her puritanical mind set.

At first she used to blush if Tom caught her in just her bra on top, but fast-forward about two months, and here she is on our bed with his throbbing stiff penis slipping into her squirming belly. She's looking over her shoulder at me, her face flushes and she squeals as his penis splits her warm slippery cunt. I watch, stupefied, as they start to fuck each other. Pricilla lifts her knees, her curvy legs draw back toward her bottom and I see her soft pubic hair and the long pink split of her cunt stretched in a juicy clutch around his penis. I close my eyes and listen to her breathe and the steady creak ... creak of our bed as they begin.

But I'm ahead of the story... !

It started very slowly, she got used to knowing Tom could hear us making love and if occasionally he caught a glimpse of her undies ... well, she would still be embarrassed, but it stopped being such a big deal. But to me it became almost an obsession, a craving to share her sexually with Tom.

I think the trigger for me was when I was confronted by her initial blushing embarrassment, yet her conflicting compulsion to be sexy and flirtatious. She

would look at him and her nervous throaty giggles were like liquid sex ... like warm water pouring over the head of my penis. I began to experience a heady combination of jealousy and fascination that made my knees get weak and my stomach churn. My penis would swell when I watched her flirt or walk past him with her blouse open.

Why did I feel jealousy and still an urge to yield sexual access to my pretty wife? ... I didn't know, but it was a nagging impulsive thought that was always lurking in my mind. They would brush past each other in the tiny kitchen and I would imagine them touching. At night we whispered about it in bed.

"I'd like to see you with Tom," I'd whisper.

"Oh you're silly ... I ... couldn't..."

I began to have a fantasy that they made love while I was at work ... I knew it wasn't so, but I got those weak-in-the-knees feelings ... that anguish of betrayal and humiliation. But it was all mixed in with a sense of wild excitement. I fantasized about what she might be doing. The sensations were addictive. It's imagining the woman you love being intimate. It was an incredibly naughty act to think of Pricilla fucking someone else, especially a friend. The effect to my senses was a shock, like a hard drug. It's a sensual addiction that is hard to match; the thought of my wife's vagina entered by the penis of another man. The thought of her slipping off her panties, opening herself and submitting to an adulterous act of intercourse was enthralling.

It all came head one morning when Tom was sitting with me at the kitchen table. We finished our coffee and he was just about to leave. Priss thought he was already gone and she walked into the kitchen wearing an old pajama bottom and her skimpy white bra.

"Oh sorry ... thought you'd left," she murmured and started back to the bedroom.

I caught her hand and said, "sit down, Tom's leaving in a minute. She blushed with embarrassment, but she walked around the kitchen getting herself a coffee and then sat between us. Tom's eyes were on the swell of her breasts and the feelings rushed through me. The cleavage swelled over her bra cup and a light luminescence of pink hinted at the location of her nipples. Pricilla had no panties on under the pajama bottom and the curvy crease of her ass buns was clearly evident as she sat. Tom finished his coffee and left the apartment, probably with half a hard-on!

Something about exposing her to him lit a fire in me. I took her back in the bedroom and tugged off her pajama bottoms. Looking down at her warm soft cunt I could imagine his penis touching her there. We make noisy love. Right in the middle of it I blurted it out, "Prissy, would you like to make love with Tom?"

She was gasping and straining her hips and she moaned, "uh-huh, if you still want me to..."

"Someday, when you're alone with him ... just let it happen."

"Mmmm, maybe ... we'll see..."

I found myself living for the adrenal rush of my utter acceptance, my sudden realization, that she was eventually going to do it. My stomach churned from the deep-seated arousal of what was certain to occur. Nothing happened for two weeks and then one day I came home and the guilt was written on her face. Tom was in the guestroom with the door closed. Priscilla wouldn't meet my eyes and she was blushing. She was pretending busyness at the sink and looked a little disheveled ... hair slightly mussed ... blouse only partly tucked into her skirt. I came up behind her and slipped my hands around her waist. She was warm and I could feel a little tremble in her body. I felt myself getting a hard-on.

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