We All Watched Each Other

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Her husband's outside - we're inside.
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Sunday July 12th 2:30 p.m.

It's a scene that we've played out for so many years I've lost count, but it's still as much fun for me as it apparently is for Donna. Donna is the woman who is kneeling on the chair in front of me, looking out the window with her shorts and panties pulled down to her knees, looking out at her husband in the back yard.

Her lard-ass husband Pete has assumed the position of his choice as well, which is flat on his back in a chaise lounge, a beer beside him and the obnoxious voice of Yankees radio announcer John Sterling blaring from the boom box positioned next to the beer.

Me? I'm the guy positioned in the kitchen, with my slacks and underwear down around my ankles, also looking out at the backyard over Donna's shoulder at my friend Pete while my cock moves in and out of his wife's pussy.

John Sterling is going into one of his contrived "It is far! It is deep!" rants because one of Yankees has just hit one deep to left field and he thinks it might be a home run. Because he gets it wrong so often, one never really knows, but in the kitchen I am taking Donna deep, and she's loving it.

She whimpers each time I thrust my cock all the way into her sweet pussy, the clapping sounds of our bodies slapping together synchronized nicely with her moans and my grunts. It's a beautiful chorus that her husband could hear if he was paying attention, but he doesn't seem to be.

My hands are wrapped around Donna, her body still remarkably slender and fit despite her fifty one years, and they are roughly kneading her tits. Roughly because that's the way she likes it. She likes her tits mauled, and I'm happy to accommodate her.

Her breasts used to be perky little cones, but after a couple of kids and the aging process, they hang down loosely. Almost all nipple, they barely fill my hand these days, but I love them just the same. Donna knows I love them too, unlike her husband, who spent their younger years mocking their lack of size and humiliating her in front of others with his snide comments.

Pete used to be my friend, but I now consider him as more of an acquaintance than anything else. We've grown apart over the years for many reasons, some just because we've gotten different interests, but mostly because of the way he treats his wife. Maybe my screwing his wife every chance I get has something to do with it too.

I don't like that; the physical and mental abuse of women or spouses in general I mean. If you don't love each other, that's fine. Go your separate ways. That's what Jen and I did several years ago, although she wasn't quite as adult about the breakup as I had wished. I thought I had taken it well, all things considered, after finding out about her raging infidelity right after we discovered we would never be able to have children, but that's water over the dam now.

So now I live in the same house we shared for a couple of decades, just down the road from Donna and Pete. We used to be tight, the four of us, but since Jen packed up and moved on we don't do the couples thing any more, obviously. Mostly we meet like this.

I've known Donna since we were teens, and I hate the fact that I never had the nerve to tell her how I felt about her. Strange how becoming friends with a girl can work both ways. Sometimes it makes a relationship happen, and in my case, sometimes it scares you off for fear of losing them as a friend if they don't feel the same. That's they way we were, it appears,

Donna begins to orgasm, and I can tell this because I've grown accustomed to the buildup. The high-pitched little grunts as it begins to build and then a longer groan - almost a squeal - as her pussy clamps down around my cock hard. This usually send me on my way too, and this time is no exception.

My whole lower body tingles as I send jets of my seed deep into her womb. It feels like I'm cumming a whole lot for some reason, although it usually feel that way since this is the only sex I have and it must build up inside of me waiting for release.

Like I said at the beginning, this is something that we have done numerous times over the last decade, only there was something different about this time. It had to do with Donna calling me on my cell phone, asking me that if I wanted her I should hurry down.

The answer to that was obvious. Of course I wanted her. What she said afterward was strange, but I agreed to it. It bothered me at first, but once I went into the house and spread Donna's slim and trim thighs apart, I forgot about it for the time being.

Now, having cum, I was reminded about it when Donna gave me a quick kiss and pointed me toward the door. I went towards the door but did not leave as was the usual custom. Instead I waited around the corner of the living room, along the wall where the pictures of them with their kids filled every inch of space.

I stood there waiting while Donna called out to her husband, and after I heard the screen door slam a second time, I heard muttering and footsteps going down the hall toward their bedroom. After a suitable pause, I followed.

The door to the bedroom was left ajar, just as Donna said it would be, and just as I had told her I would, I watched as the bizarre scene unfolded before my eyes.

...

Sunday July 12th 3:00 p.m.

If you had told me yesterday that I would be positioned in the hall outside of my neighbor's bedroom in the middle of a hot July afternoon like this I would have laughed in your face, but here I was.

I was not laughing either, as the surreal scene played out right in front of me. Donna was on her back in the bed, her blouse still on but pulled up to her neck. Her shorts and panties were off, and her legs were spread wide open with her feet planted on the mattress.

I had a good view of Donna's pussy, and it was one I enjoyed immensely. The spacious triangle of charcoal black hair had been trimmed slightly around the outer edges so she could wear bathing suits without embarrassment, but Donna still had an exquisitely hairy pussy that reflected her Italian heritage. It was something she had also been ashamed of, but was something I adored.

The problem was, as I could see even from my limited vantage point, was that I could see my cum on the fringes of the pussy hair along her opening, and if I could see it, Pete certainly could, because he was standing at the foot of the bed staring right at it.

Pete was pulling down his shorts, and while I didn't want to look at his pale white ass, I didn't have much choice. When he began talking, I could barely hear him because of the sounds of my heart pounding.

"He fucked you good, didn't he slut?" Pete snarled, the tenor of his voice chilling. "His cum is leaking out of you. Didn't you keep your legs closed on the way in here?"

"I tried," Donna said in a whisper.

"Don't start crying on me, slut," Pete snapped. "You asked for it. Now you had your fun, I'm going to have mine. Who knows? You'll probably like it too."

Pete was wedging a pillow under Donna's ass, and waddled over to yank up Donna's blouse so that her wrists were bound, and somehow secured them up my the headboard. Pete's dick was hard and bobbed in front of him under his beer belly as he came back to the foot of the bed.

"Spread them," Pete said, and Donna opened her legs wider in response.

Donna looked so helpless and scared there on the bed, her arms stretched up over her head. Her tiny breasts all but disappeared with her like that on her back, and I knew that Donna didn't like to be seen like that. Maybe that was why Pete had done it.

"Now slut," Pete said. "Tell me all about it. Tell me what Dave did to you, and how much you liked it."

The sound of my name sent a shiver right down my spine, as I realized that our relationship had been discovered. I got ready to burst into the room, not willing to let this clown hurt her any more than he had already over the years.

Pete got on his knees and moved up between Donna's legs, and for a moment I thought to myself - this guy not only knows that another guy just had sex with his wife but is going to fuck her right after it!

That wasn't the case, and in retrospect that perverse notion would have been a whole lot more sane than what followed.

"Talk to me, Donna," Pete said as he crouched over his wife. "It must have been good, because I could hear you squealing all the way out there. Tell me everything, right from the start."

"I called Dave like you told me to, and he came right over."

"Keep going. I'm not going to keep asking."

"He came over and asked me where you were. Told him you were out back and that I wanted him to - you know."

"Fuck. You wanted him to fuck you. Say it. You didn't have any trouble doing it, so say it."

"I wanted him to fuck me."

"You wanted him to fuck you with that big cock of his, didn't you? SAY IT! I told you what I wanted to hear, so tell me."

"I wanted him to fuck me with his big cock," Donna said, and after she finished the sentence, Pete let out something like a groan, after which he fell down on Donna.

Not his entire body, just his face. Right down on her pussy. Pete stuck his face right into that gooey pussy and began to eat her out like a feral animal. The sounds he made were matched my his actions, as he seemed to be trying to stick his entire head into his wife's pussy.

Was I disgusted? You bet. Yet there was something about this that kept me frozen in place. Maybe it was Donna's voice, which kept telling the story with occasional promptings from her husband.

"I knelt on the chair, like you told me to do and Dave pulled my shorts and panties down. What? Yes, I was already wet just thinking about it, but even though I was ready it hurt."

"Come on!" Pete spat as he lifted his face from between Donna's thighs. "Keep going. When did it hurt, Donna?"

"At the start, when he - you know."

"Say it!"

"When he put his big cock in my cunt."

Pete kept slobbering all over Donna's pussy, while I noticed his hand busily working on himself, mercifully out of my line of sight.

"Made you cum, didn't he?"

"I came. Came twice. The second time was when Dave came."

"Even the crack of your ass is full of his cum," Pete snapped, lifting Donna's tiny body up of the bed with his palms so he could apparently clean up that area too. "Bet you'd like him to fuck you in the ass like I do."

"No," Donna whimpered. "He's way too big."

Pete groaned again and jumped up to his knees, sticking his cock into Donna and thrusting a couple of times before crying out and then collapsing on top of his wife.

The room was silent as they both were motionless on the bed. I was hoping that Pete had a heart-attack, but he began to move and managed to get up onto his knees in time.

"You get him to do it, or else," Pete snarled to Donna as I backtracked down the hall, not waiting to find out what "it" was, although I assumed that the "him" was me.

...

Monday July 13th 11:45 a.m.

I went to work the next day, although I was working on next to no sleep after what I saw the day before. I had expected Donna to call me, but she didn't until the next morning, and when she did she was clearly distraught. She told me that she couldn't talk then, but would drive by my work place around lunch time.

When I saw her car pull into the parking lot, I signed out for lunch and hurried outside. Donna was sitting on a bench under a tree, looking like she was running on less sleep than I was, with circles under her big brown eyes and I grim expression on her face.

Other than that, she looked as great as ever to me. She was wearing a mauve and white striped sleeveless blouse that showcased her slender tanned arms, which were still as firm and shapely as ever. Wearing a bra, her breasts looked just as perky as they had thirty some years ago, and her white shorts complimented her trim legs and firm butt. By the time I got over to Donna, I was half hard.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi," Donna said, clearly embarrassed by the situation she found herself in, and one that I really had no inkling about at that moment. "Sorry I didn't call earlier. I'm still kinda - confused."

"You are?" I said. "Imagine how I feel."

"I know. I don't really know where to begin."

"Start with calling me over to your place yesterday afternoon."

"Okay," Donna said. "Well, I called you over because that was what he told me to do."

"Pete did?"

"Yeah. He told me to get you to come over or else."

"Or else what?" I asked.

"I'd better go in order here," Donna said, looking pained. "This isn't easy."

"Would it help if I told you that I love you?" I reminded her. "Always have and always will, no matter what?"

Donna smiled at that, raising her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. As she raised her arm, my eyes instinctively devoured what must have been the work of a master sculptor; the bronze limb with just a dusting of down below the elbow, the bicep that had that gentle swell that hinted at muscularity, and the soft and starkly pale underside of her arm.

I smiled when I saw the deep hollow of her armpit, with just a hint of five o'clock shadow coating the damp pocket. There was a time back in our "hippie" days when those armpits of Donna's were overflowing with hair, so much so that I used to tease her for having more hair under her arms than I did.

I had thought she looked incredibly sexy like that, but like everything else I had felt about her back in those days, I chose to keep it to myself until it was too late. Yet another example of my being responsible for the position I found myself in. Or was it more accurate to say, the position WE found ourselves in?

"A couple of nights ago, Pete asked me if I wanted to watch a movie," Donna said. "I told him that I was tired, but he insisted. When he brought me into the bedroom and turned on the TV, I almost fainted. It was us."

"Us?" I asked. "You and Pete?"

"No. You and me. Together. In the bed. Naked."

"How?" I asked, feeling a little queasy myself about then.

"You can watch the movie with me sometime if you want," Donna said. "From the camera angle it looks like it was hidden on the dresser."

"What could you see?"

"What couldn't you see?" Donna said with a laugh that was more frustration than humor related. "There we were in living color. Me giving you head and you going down on me, and then you and me going at it. It would have been erotic to watch if Pete wasn't watching it with me."

"What happened then? I assume he was pissed," I suggested, knowing his hair-trigger temper.

"I thought so too, but the more we watched it the weirder he got. He went from being pissed about you to something - I don't know. Just weird. He told me that he had - I don't know if you want to hear this - but he said that it was too bad we all didn't get together back when you and Jennifer were married because he..."

"Had screwed Jen?" I opined, finishing her sentence, and after Donna nodded I let out a little laugh. "Oh well, she wasn't particular toward the end."

"Guess that all the women aren't that infatuated by guys with big dicks like I am," Donna said. "That was what he told me. I told him that he was wrong if he thought that was what it was all about, but he kept harping on it. He was doing like a play-by-play over the film. It was almost as if he was excited by it."

"So how did that end up with me coming over yesterday?"

"He told me that I had to get you over and let you fuck me, or else."

"Or else what?" I sneered.

"Or else he would show the film to Rebecca and Tyler," Donna said, referring to their grown children. "He said that maybe they wouldn't be so thrilled if they knew what a whore their mother is."

"Shit."

"So I did that, but asked you to pretend to leave and then stick around," Donna said. "I was afraid that he was going to beat me up or something. I don't know if you could hear what went on or not."

"Heard a whole lot," I explained. "Saw quite a bit too."

"You could see?" Donna asked, her face turning a deep crimson.

"I was standing out in the hall looking through the space at the hinges."

"Omigod. I'm so embarrassed," Donna said, on the verge of tears.

"Why? You didn't do anything. It's that jerk who should be ashamed," I told her. "You? You looked beautiful, just like always."

"The things he made me do," Donna said softly.

"I saw."

"You didn't stay long enough to see the nasty stuff," Donna said. "All night. It was amazing that for somebody who can't get it up most of the time, he was insatiable. He kept showing that film and watching it while making me do all kinds of..."

Donna started to cry, and I held her and consoled her as best I could while trying to find the magic words that would make everything all better. Needless to say, none were forthcoming.

"Just as I was leaving, I heard him say something about you getting me to do something," I said.

"He wants," Donna said after regaining a bit of her composure. "He wants me to get you to have a threesome with us."

"Me in the same bed with him?" I said, and Donna nodded. "Us having sex with you?"

"I'm supposed to do this without you knowing that he found out about us," Donna added. "So whatever you do, you can't let on that I told you anything about all this."

...

Tuesday July 14th 7:30 p.m.

I had gotten the call a few minutes earlier, so after I saw Pete drive past my house on his way to the meeting of his fish and game club, I walked down to their house. Donna was waiting at the door, already half naked, and after I helped her out of the rest of her clothes and shed my own, I lifted her up and impaled her on my cock while I cradled her in my arms.

Donna bounced up and down on my cock while I bent my knees to let her land on my thighs on the way down. It was brief and rather animal-like on our part, and ended with me pinning Donna against the wall while trying to drive her through it. After we came, we got ourselves together as best we could and I let Donna lead me into her bedroom.

We sat on the carpet at the foot of the bed, making sure that we were out of range of that camera, and watched the film of us. It was just a simple stationary camera, but there was something about it that was very erotic and nasty looking, and to be honest we looked really good.

From the angle of the camera, my cock did appear to be some kind of genetic mutation and made me look better than the most skilled cinematographer could have managed. When it was over, I realized that I had been squeezing Donna's hand really hard, and apologized.

"That's okay," Donna said. "I felt that way when I saw it too. We do look good together. No wonder Pete is jealous of you. You look like a stallion. I mean, you always look good to me, but seeing you like that?"

"I want you," I said, and Donna was way ahead of me, pulling off her shorts and straddling me as I tugged my sweats down and exposed my erection.

This time we were more tender with each other, as Donna rode my cock like she was doing some kind of exotic dance. She swayed and writhed on top of me while I sucked on her titties, pulling and twisting the little cones as if I was trying to pull them off. Donna was biting my neck and talking so vulgarly that I hardly recognized her voice.

"That's it David," Donna growled. "You feel so good inside of me, and you always make me cum. I never cum with him anymore. Never. I could hardly feel his dick after you were inside me. You fill me up so much."

I was busy myself, nibbling and licking at Donna's neck and shoulders while trying to put my cock as deep into her as I could manage. I bit gently into her shoulders and not so gently under her arm, licking and sucking the faint stubble like an animal while Donna squealed with delight.

We came together, and Donna kept churning on top of me long after my orgasm was over, dancing to music that only she could hear, until she collapsed on top of me.

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