Chapter 4

On Monday I barely managed to be home at five to three.

Helen looked ravishing, but she was obviously nervous, like a teenager going on her first date. I calmed her down a little, and assured her of her outstanding beauty and my love, and my sincere appreciation that she was willing to give this a try. And then the doorbell rang.

Alfred was very impressed by the completeness of the equipment, and then we started trying out all the different stuff. Which of course meant, that he'd be in different stages of undress for an hour. But I couldn't help notice, that as Helen went in and out of the room, Alfred stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes following my wife.

"Yes, she is pretty, isn't she?" I said.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare," he mumbled.

"That's all right, boy. You can look all you want. You think she's pretty, don't you?"

"I don't know any woman I'd say was prettier. But I promise, I'll stop staring."

"It's all right, like I said. I think she's pretty too. I don't blame you for looking." At that moment Helen entered the living room again, and I said: "Helen, Alfred thinks you're the prettiest woman in the world, and he can't stop looking at you."

I don't know which of the two turned the deepest red, but Helen was the first to recover.

"Oh, he does? Well, then we've better give him a little show, don't we?" She was wearing the white skirt I had suggested, and it really was so thin, that her black G-string showed through, but her blouse was a new, very thin cotton shirt, tied around her ribs to leave her belly free. She stretched her arms over her head and turned slowly round, right in front of us, and when she started her second turn she opened the top button of her shirt. When she came round to face us again she looked at Alfred, and asked: "Do you want me to open another button, Alfred?" God, this was exciting.

Poor Alfred was speechless. He tried to say something, but ended up just nodding his head eagerly. At that time he was only wearing the sweat absorbing net T-shirt and his Y-fronts, and as Helen moved in a little closer and opened the second button, it was very evident, that his cock was stirring in his pants.

Helen moved in a little closer, and her lovely smell hit our nostrils. Her eyes showed her excitement. I said," I'm sure Alfred would like you to open that shirt. I know I would."

"Is that true, Alfred? Would you like me to show you my tits?" He tried to swallow a couple of times, then he gave up on his voice and just nodded, eagerly.

Moving her shoulders from side to side Helen stepped forward while she untied the knot in her shirt and opened up to bare her chest, right under Alfred's eyes. "Do you think they are pretty?"

Again Alfred just nodded. "Do you want to touch them," she asked.

Alfred turned his head and looked at me.

"Go ahead," I said. "She asked if you wanted to touch them."

By now Alfred's cock was very hard and made his underpants stick out in a way that Helen couldn't avoid to notice. She smiled to him, took his hands in her own and led them to her tits. "I can see you want to touch them. Go on then. They are not dangerous."

That bubble of silence I experienced the day I met Helen, returned. Everything seemed to take place in slow motion. I was mesmerised as I watched Alfred's hands take possession of my wife's lovely tits. Her nipples grew very hard as his hands caressed them. I could see her mouth move, whereupon Alfred took her nipples between two fingers and pinched them. And as she moved yet a step closer, his mouth closed on one of them, while his hand caressed the other. By now my cock was straining my pants the same way as Alfred's was straining his. Then the sounds returned, and I heard my dear wife moan: "That's lovely, Alfred. Come, let's sit down on the sofa, we can't stand here all afternoon." She took his hand and guided him to the sofa. A minute later she was sitting there, while Alfred was stretched out on his back, his head in her lap and a breast in his mouth, while her left hand started a slow trail down his body towards his cock, which was sticking out in the most obscene way. When she got her hand into his Y-fronts and obviously touched his cock, his whole body twitched, and he sucked her breast hard and noisily.

The poor boy never had a chance, and I saw my wife behave like an experienced seductress. She tried to push down his underwear, but then she nodded to me and looked at them, signalling, I guessed, that she wanted me to take them off - which I willingly did. I really should have liked to take off my own, but I didn't want to shock the boy any more. While I took off the pants I watched Helen take Alfred's free hand and move it to the breast he wasn't sucking. Then she grabbed hold of his young cock again, but she only got to move her hand a few times. Suddenly Alfred twitched again, sucked in a lot of air, and let out a loud groan. A geyser of white sperm gushed out of him and covered Helen's hand and dripped down on his belly. His eyes were closely shut, his mouth open, uttering groans and sighs. Helen's eyes, on the other hand, were a sight for gods. They were so radiant and excited, that they could have given the Pope a hardon, and she was smiling happily.

"Allan, could you please fetch us a wet washing cloth and a towel. I think I'll have to clean us up a little, before I go on." She looked down on Alfred, who by now had opened his eyes. "You do want me to go on, don't you?"