Pillow Talk, Just Pillow Talk

Enjoying playing the innocent virgin, she acted as if she didn't care to know what guys want, but look at her now working the men at the party. Watching her bending at the waist one way to show her bikini clad ass, while taking drink orders, she bends lower the other way to flash her cleavage and bikini clad boobs, while offering hors d'oeuvres. By showing so much of her hot body in her tiny bikini, she's giving them all what they want and more. It's obvious to me, while watching her from a distance, that they all want her. I can only imagine the pillow talk they'll wish they could have with their fat wives that I'll be having with my hot wife.

Because of the God given and man made body she possesses, with what she wears or doesn't wear and how she acts, she's provocative, another understatement. Classy and elegant, always surrounded by horny men, guys dote on her. They laugh at all her sexy jokes and hang off her every word hoping to get in her bikini bottoms later, while in the deep, dark end of the pool or receive a blowjob in the cabana, no doubt.

Sorry guys, she's mine, all mine. You can look all you want, but you can't touch, not now, maybe later, but not yet. I'm still working on her to agree to all of that. A bit premature to hope she'd have sex with another man, I don't want to frighten her away from the swinging lifestyle by pressuring her prematurely. Maybe once the pillow talk starts freely flowing in direct proportion to the alcohol this summer season, she'll be agreeable to a little more than just pillow talk and a bit more receptive to sucking another man's cock.

An encouraging factual tidbit is that she's the type of woman who has more male friends than she does female friends. I don't mind that she likes men more than she does woman. My first wife was just the opposite. Jennifer had no male friends, not even me, I dare say. She surrounded herself with cackling, fat, and ugly women. I figure it must have made her feel better to be more attractive than her friends.

It's different with Gloria. Hoping for some promiscuity, hoping she'll tell me about what she did and who she did it with, hoping she'll, eventually, allow me to watch her have sex with someone, I encourage her open sexuality. It makes me hot to know that others desire my wife, as much as I desire her. Whenever I see her laughing and having a good time with other men, I wonder if she's having an affair and if the one she's having the affair with is in my house as a guest. It's a turn on to imagine her having sex with someone else.

"Who are you fucking, Gloria? C'mon, you can tell me," I said during one of our pillow talking sessions. "I don't care if you're getting a little on the side, as long as you tell me about it. I just want to know who's sliding their cock in my wife. Tell me, Gloria. Who is it? Who are you fucking? Who are you blowing?"

"That's crass, Paul, even for you. For the last time, I've been faithful to you. No one is sliding their cock in me but you and I'm not blowing anyone but you. And if you continue to suggest otherwise, I won't be blowing you either, buddy boy." She gave me a sour look, turned away, and covered her naked body with the sheet. "I think this pillow talk has gone to your head. Maybe we shouldn't have any more of it."

It was obvious to me that I was bringing her along too quickly. I decided to back off with the accusations for now. Accusing her of having an affair was just an extension of the pillow talking game. I didn't mean anything by it. I was only hoping to inspire more pillow talk.

Certainly, I wouldn't be mad if she was having sex with someone else, so long as she told me about it and we talked about it, while she stroked my cock before blowing me. Always excited by having pillow talk with her, I didn't want to risk the chance of her not playing the game by pressuring her too early to admit to her affair. I'll just play it cool and wait until she's in the mood again.

As the summer progressed with our pool parties being the hit of the neighborhood, just as I bet she's having an affair, I bet her lover is here, as one of my pool party guests. I imagine him watching her, while enjoying her playing her little teasing game with all the other men in attendance. Maybe they have pillow talk too, when having sex.

I enjoy watching her from a distance; somewhere she doesn't notice my surveillance of her. Sitting across from her on the far side of the pool with a few of the friends' and neighbors' wives, I watched for her secretive glances and subtle touches, while looking to see which man she paid the most attention to or which the least. Just as I know he's here, I know she's having an affair. I can tell. I can just feel the pheromones in the air.

From the way she acts when around him, blushing, flirting, touching her hair, touching his arm when she's standing and his leg when she's sitting, my bet is on Ron, Sheila's husband. I think those two have something sexually going on between them. It's okay with me if they do because I'd love to do his wife. I'd love to do Sheila. I'd love for us to have a foursome. Only, a bit premature, I'll wait for her to make the first move, before I make mine.

Call it a hunch, a feeling, but I don't mind if she is having an affair, as long as she tells me about it in great detail. It makes my cock hard to think that she's fucking and sucking another man and I can't wait to confront her with my suspicions later. It's fun to question her in bed with the hopes she'll confess the dirty details of her affair, while she's stroking my cock before she blows me. She makes me so hot with desire that I can't wait to share her with others, so that she can tell me all she did to them and all they did to her over some hot pillow talk.

Without doubt, we'll discuss her private sexual thoughts later over pillow talk. First I'll ask her if she's having an affair. Of course she'll deny it, no doubt. Then I'll ask her what she said to the guys at the party and what they said to her before asking her who she'd do. I figure from what she says or doesn't say, I can figure out who it is she's doing. Only, I know she's doing Ron and if she's doing Ron, then I can't wait to do Sheila.

She's transparent in her desire. She can't fool me. I know she's cheating on me. I just can't wait to find out who it is, so that we can get to the next level in having her give me some hot pillow talk, before inviting whoever it is in our bedroom and in our bed, while I watch.

She'll be reluctant to talk about it, of course, that is, until I share with her what I did with the wives in attendance, what they did, what I said, and what they said. A game she plays, she always feigns indifference, before faking being insulted that I'd dare accuse her of having an affair. A Defense Attorney by profession, she can't fool me. She pretends she doesn't like it when I ask her to talk about her most secretive sexual desire, but she does. I know she does. She calls it an interrogation, but I call it pillow talk. Whatever we call it, it's obvious that we both enjoy the verbal titillation.

"Paul, please not again. You must stop accusing me of having an affair with someone. You must stop asking me to have sex with someone. Sex is all you want to discuss. Sex, sex, sex, since I've married you ten years ago, I've had enough of sex to last me a lifetime. Give it a rest. Can we talk about something other than your sexual perversions?"

See? I told you. It's just a game she plays. She acts annoyed and bothered that I want more pillow talk. Only, she loves it. I know she does.

Before she leaves the house, I ask her where she's going. When she returns, I ask her where she been, who she was with, and what she did. What's wrong with that? It only shows that I care what she does and with who she does it.

Certainly, I'm not a controlling husband. I just love my wife. Besides, she loves the personal interest that I take during her every waking moment. I'm a man who appreciates not only what he has in her as a wife but also as a sexual partner. She's my most prized possession. I don't mean that she's a thing, but you know what I mean.

I even pick out the outfits she wears every day and if she allowed me to dress and undress her, I would. I love feeling her through her clothes before touching her through her lingerie and feeling her naked body after. She calls it groping, but I call it being sexually attentive. I can't help myself from touching her, while watching her dress and undress. Besides, she loves all the attention I give her.

She makes me wild with desire. When she's trying to get dressed, my sexual touches are nothing more than foreplay, if you will, for what is to come later. Paying attention to her clothes, I love helping her in that intimate way and she loves having me make all her wardrobe decisions for her. It's a game we enjoy playing.

"Paul, I'm not wearing what you put out for me to wear."

"Why not?"

"I'll look like a hooker."

"C'mon, Gloria, if you wear it for me, I'll bring you home a surprise later."

"Okay, but I can dress myself. I'm not a child. I don't like you hovering over me and groping me while I'm trying to get dressed."

"I only wanted to help you."

"You mean you only want to help yourself feel my body," she said pushing by me. "Gees, Paul, give me some privacy to get dressed, will you? I feel smothered. I don't bother you when you're getting dressed."

You'll have to ignore her. Feeling a bit overwhelmed with suddenly being under the microscope, she's not usually like this. She's just a little tense. She's acting this way because you're all here reading this story about her, no doubt. Let's all give her some privacy to get dressed and go out by the pool to have some real fun.

"I wish you'd bother me when I was getting changed, Gloria," I said while leaving the room. "From now on, I'll leave my dressing room door open, whenever I'm putting on my boxers for you to lend me a hand. You can help me dress and undress any time you want, Honey," I said with a laugh.

"Don't hold your breath, Paul."

Pool parties with hot women wearing bikinis and powerful men with money, attribute to the erotic excitement that enhances our sex life. Immediately after the party, we enjoy an electric sexuality that flows directly from our friends and neighbors to us via pillow talk. When turned on by the loud music of one of our pool parties, the sexual current is so hot that it jolts us to live on the wild side. Between the touchy feely teasing of partying with our friends and neighbors and the erotic pillow talk that I have with my wife later, I don't remember having as much sexual fun, as a married couple in my twenties and thirties with my first wife, that I'm having now in my fifties with Gloria. Mix in a healthy dose of alcohol and everyone's inhibitions go down the drain with their modesty.

The second marriage for us both, in a new house and in a better neighborhood, it was another chance to usher in a new age of sensuality and sexuality without the worry of pregnancy and the woe of what would our friends say and our neighbors think. Done with the kid stuff, we fulfilled our family obligations. Our kids are grown and except for occasionally seeing our children visiting with our grandchildren, we wouldn't care if we ever saw another relative again.

No more in-laws, no more having to attend this function or that gathering, this time was our special time to enjoy sex. Going into this marriage with our eyes wide open, we both knew what we wanted. We wanted to have fun without all the responsibility that ruined our sex life and weighed down our lifestyle in our first marriages. Finally, free to do whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted to do it, to come and go as we pleased without even so much as a pet tying us down, life was suddenly so much better now than it ever was before.

Just as it was really good with my first wife, Jennifer, it was really good in the beginning with Gloria. Newlyweds, we were like rabbits doing it multiple times a day, every day, on different surfaces, and in every room. I've never received so many blowjobs. Now that the heat of our love affair has cooled and that part of our relationship is over, we needed more to spark our excitement.

Back then, Gloria couldn't get enough of me. Back then, Gloria wanted me as much as I wanted her. Close to being a nymphomaniac, I remember her as being insatiable sexpot. She couldn't keep her hands off me. Only, she may remember it a little differently than me.

"You need to find a hobby other than sex, Paul. I'm sore. I'm tired. I have lockjaw. I'm not in the mood. I have a headache. I have my period. I have the plague. I'm dying. Pick whatever excuse you need to leave me alone. We did it twice already today and it's not even lunch time."

"I can't help myself, Gloria. I love being with you. You make me so horny."

"You're smothering me, Paul. Don't you have errands to run? Don't you have any guy friends to bond with? Shouldn't you be out getting drunk at the country club or at a strip club? When's the last time you played golf or went to a ballgame? You have season tickets you don't use and give away. Maybe you should get a mistress and have an affair."

She's such a kidder. Yet, it didn't take me long to realize that we needed some outside stimulation to relight our libido, fire our desire, enflame our imaginations, and rekindle our lost lust. She was reluctant to admit that she needed to flirt with our friends and neighbors to maintain our sexual interest and pique our desire with some hot pillow talk. Yet, once I showed her the way, once I revealed the possibilities to her of what could happen and how much fun she could have, she followed my lead. With the advent of summer and the excuse to wear fewer clothes, the rest of it just happened.

"Pool party! Last one in the pool naked is not yet drunk enough to get naked. Pool party!"

We had such fun at our pool parties over the years. Once, we once had thirty naked people in the pool. That was fun. After watching Gloria flirting with our friends and neighbors for years and watching her getting felt up in the deep, dark end of the pool, after she's had one too many drinks, it's surprising why I never discovered pillow talk before now. Maybe then, I'd rather do it than talk about it. Now that I'm older, I'd rather talk about it than do it. Unable to sometimes get it up, I can never get enough of the verbal titillation and pillow talking stimulation.

"You want me to do what with whom? Eww...gross. Where do you come up with this stuff? Not in this lifetime, in your dreams, Paul. Maybe you should see a therapist."

"Yeah, that would be fun to see a sex therapist. We can do that."

"I meant, just you seeing a psychiatrist, Paul."

Maybe she doesn't enjoy the open sexuality as much as I do, but she will. Not that I needed to stimulate anyone's interest in her by the way that she looks, but I've talked to my friends and instigated their interest in her by telling them what she looks like naked and what she's like in bed. I've even showed some of them a few of the photos of her posing naked for me and they reciprocated by sharing their naked photos of their wives, but their wives all pale in comparison to Gloria. She doesn't know that I shared her naked photos with a few of my friends. She'd kill me if she did.

"You'd better not post those photos on the Internet, Paul. I mean it."

"Don't worry, Doll. I'd never disrespect you like that," I said knowing that she'd never find the site where I posted her photos, NOW, Naked Oblivious Women.

(For those of you leaving this story to look for the site, NOW, I made it up for the purposes of the story. I'm sure a NOW site exists, just as I'm sure that a site exists with photos of naked and oblivious women but, to my knowledge, there's no such site as Naked Oblivious Women.)

I've even encouraged a few of my friends, those who I thought she'd be attracted, to touch her, especially when alone with her in the deep, dark end of the pool, after she's had a few drinks, as long as they tell me what they did and what she did. I've even given her my permission to touch my friends. Blame it on the alcohol, if that makes her feel more sexually adventurous and sexually uninhibited with a touch here and a feel there, it's nothing more than erotic foreplay to encourage and lend fodder to the hot pillow talk we'll have later.

A little uninhibited sexy behavior on her part goes a long way to enhancing our sex life, especially if she were to touch the cocks of some of our friends and neighbors, while they felt up her voluptuous body. We guys don't mind taking the ball and running the field for a touchdown, once she's the one to start the play. Just as it's so much fun to imagine her touching and being touched, it'd be so much hotter if she actually wanted to do it, as much as I wanted her to do it. Notwithstanding, the real fun starts before she does anything. For me, the real fun is talking about it and when she tells me what she wants to do with whoever and what she wants someone to do to her.

"Paul, I'm not going to stick my hand down his bathing trunks and stroke his cock. What's wrong with you? That's just nasty. Eww. I don't care if he's hot for me and if he jerks off over the naked thought of me every day or every hour. His wife is my friend and I can't do that with her husband. I'd be embarrassed to see these people ever again."

"So, if his wife wasn't your friend, then you'd—"

"Paul, stop. Enough."

Used not so much for her to have an affair, my motives were merely to have some hot pillow talk later, about what she did with whom and what were their reactions to her doing it. Her sexy behavior enlivens the pillow talk, whenever she shares every dirty detail with me of what she's done or what she'd like to do. Only, reluctant to take the bull by the horns or, in her case, a cock in her hand and/or mouth, sometimes, I need to give her a little push of encouragement for her to loosen up and enjoy herself.

"Why are you just standing there by the edge of the pool, Gloria? Why aren't you in the pool having fun, Honey? The water is beautiful."

"I'd rather go for a swim in the Amazon with Piranhas than go back in the pool again with a bunch of drunken, horny men," she said with a troubled look on her face.

She stood pouting with her arms folded across her chest, while watching several of the men lined up at the deep, dark end of the pool with wariness. In the way she stood at the edge of the pool, so cute and so sexy, she looked so much like a nervous gazelle. I peered to where my friends and neighbors gathered at the deep, dark end of the pool. I gave them a nod of encouragement, along with my thumbs up wave, and a wink. They looked so much like hungry crocodiles waiting and watching for their prey to take a dip or accidentally slip in the water.

"What do you mean, Doll? The guys are just being friendly and having some fun. It's obvious they like you, especially in that fire engine red bikini. You look so hot."

"Friendly? Forcing me to have sex with them is not what I'd call friendly. I'd call it being sexually assaulted."

Hot with desire for her, while thinking of the pillow talk we'd undoubtedly have later with her telling me why she climbed out of the pool, I couldn't wait to be alone with her.

"You look amazing," I said feeling her sweet ass. "Don't be such a stuck up prude. Go on, you have my permission to have some fun, too, so long as you tell me about it later," I said giving her a suggestive wink and a pat on the ass.

"I don't need your permission to have fun, Paul," she said flipping me a cold shoulder and giving me a rebellious look with a toss of her pretty head.

I love when she tosses her long, blonde hair like that. It reminds me of how she tosses her head to move her hair out of the way just before blowing me.