Peter was still all on his own in the villa although he knew that wouldn’t be the case for much longer. He would be watching and wanking again very soon; he would be being the complete voyeur, but at the moment he was listening. And very intently too, from the open door of the unlit bedroom on the first floor.
There was not long to wait now, he was sure of it, and he was right. Peter could feel tremors of excitement shiver through his body as he heard the sound of a key being worked in the front door, followed by the sound of that door opening and then an emphatic bang as it was shut. Honey, I’m home!
He trembled some more and his pulse beat faster, when he heard the click of Carol’s stiletto heels and the echo of male footsteps on the marble floor downstairs. Soon, soon. He heard the drinks cabinet behind the bar being opened. Indeed you could have heard a pin drop at that time of night. He’d have to make sure he was exceptionally quiet himself, he always was.
‘Vodka?’ he heard Carol say. There was perhaps a nodded assent from her companion, Peter surmised. Vodka had presumably been what he’d been drinking in whatever busy club or bar Carol had picked him up. He heard the metallic twist of a bottle top and the splash of liquid in a glass followed by the clink of ice cubes.
He heard Carol’s voice again: ‘Enjoy your drink, Pierre,’ she said huskily. ‘I’m going for a skinny dip.’
‘OK,’ the man said. The reply sounded deceptively flat. Peter could only imagine what lubricious thoughts must be racing through his namesake’s mind.
They were certainly racing through his own head. Peter was naked and already fully aroused, blood pumping into his erection. He felt his cock harden even further as he moved gingerly through the inky blackness towards the bedroom window, which was widely open. He leaned against the wall at its side, taking the weight of his body on his left arm and his stiff cock into his right hand.
Peter looked down at the pool, which was illuminated by the lights at its side. It was further lit up suddenly when Carol switched on the external lights. He saw a breeze ruffle the still water of the pool. And then he only had eyes for his wife. His mouth was dry with excitement as he watched Carol, naked as nature intended, stride towards the pool. The palm of her left hand was flat on her thigh and her left one was holding a packet of condoms, which she then placed on one of the sun loungers. Peter watched and admired anew the seductive sway of her hips and the way her shapely calves tapered to her slender ankles, watched as she walked bare foot, bare arsed, to the pool’s shallow end. Peter’s pulse beat faster still at the sight of her. He could feel it in his cheek, in his nose, on his eyes… on his rock-hard erection that he was still grasping firmly in his hand.
Peter watched Carol sit by the edge of the pool for a moment, watched her step into the rippling water and then turn and begin swimming on her back. He watched as she kicked her feet and let her hands propel her body slowly across the pool to the deep end. He watched her turn again and, lifting her arms, swim back to the shallow end. He looked admiringly at her lovely face and beautiful breasts and shaven mons. She wants me to see everything. He watched her turn once more before standing up. He looked at the way her hair dropped down like shiny black satin when she did this. He watched as she stepped, graceful as a nymph, out of the pool.
He watched her drag the excess water from her hair and bend down to pick up a towel that was on one of the sun loungers. He watched her fluffing her hair with the towel and using it to dry her body too, rubbing at the back of her neck and under her arms and along her legs.
Peter was looking down at Carol but she, his nymph, his nymphomaniac, was not looking up at him. She wouldn’t have been able to see him in that darkened bedroom even if she’d tried. No, she was looking at her companion, this Pierre guy, who had come to join her now in the pool area. He was, Peter noted, tall, dark, well-built and good looking, just the way his wife liked them. He could also not fail to notice that he was buck-naked and displaying an impressive erection – just the way she liked them too. He had evidently taken a leaf out of Carol’s book and had shed his clothes before coming outside.
Peter watched as that darkly handsome man took a step towards Carol, watched as he held her in his muscular arms in a powerful embrace, her full breasts flattened against his chest. She lifted her face to his and Pierre began kissing her passionately on the mouth, holding her even harder to him. Peter watched this too. He could only watch, watch as Carol took control now, watch as she got hold of Pierre’s right hand and pushed it between her legs, watch as he masturbated her. He watched too as his namesake took one of her engorged nipples first between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand and then into his mouth as he continued to masturbate her harder and harder with his other hand, rubbing it all over her hot pussy.
Peter watched and was further inflamed, pure lust burning behind his eyes, as Carol pulled away from Pierre and moved over to the sun lounger that she’d put the packet of condoms on. ‘I want you to fuck me now,’ he heard her say as she handed the packet to him. She then lay back, spreading her legs wantonly wide. The Frenchman slipped a condom on with practiced ease and then moved on top of her. He pushed himself inside as she arched her back and wrapped her quivering thighs around him.
While he thrust his shaft rhythmically in and out of her sex, Carol held him tightly and looked over his shoulder and, yes, she did look upwards then. She looked up into the dark, right in the direction she knew her husband was standing. And he knew that she knew just what he was doing, knew that he was watching, watching it all and masturbating.
Peter trembled increasingly as he felt the waves of his sexual excitement rise ever higher at what he was watching and wanking over. He pulled furiously at his erection as he watched his exhibitionistic wife being fucked ever more energetically by this complete stranger while she in turn looked, or appeared to look, straight back at him, her voyeuristic husband.
And that voyeuristic husband was now in a state of the most intense sexual arousal. His tongue flicked lasciviously in his mouth, his heart beat wildly, and his hard cock flexed and throbbed within his pounding fist, ejecting throbs of precome onto the marble floor beneath him. Peter felt giddy with desire, light-headed with his own aching, burning need for release. He could feel the determined thrust of his own imminent eruption. He was on the verge of ejaculating, right on the very brink. But don’t let that happen yet, he said to himself urgently, please not yet.
He stopped masturbating all of a sudden, wanting to hold back his orgasm before it was too late. Then it was too late. He watched Carol climax, heard her animal-like moan carry into the night, which was joined almost at once by the strangled cry of her companion, joined almost at once too by his own stifled gasping. Peter closed his eyes and convulsions shook his body as warm seed burst from his throbbing shaft in liquid bursts.
Alan made his way quietly to bed soon after that and it was not much longer afterwards that he felt Carol slip in beside him. She brought with her an aroma of chlorine and sex.
Pierre had been sent on his way, of course. Like they all were. Carol always made it clear that this was going to be a once only experience. That was the deal, take it or leave it. Pierre, like all the others before him, had taken it.
‘You awake, darling?’ Carol asked softly.
Carol cuddled into him, her body warm. ‘How did you enjoy the show tonight?’ she asked.
‘It was fantastic,’ he replied. ‘You were fantastic.’
‘How do you feel now?’
‘Thoroughly sated,’ Peter replied with a yawn.
‘Me too – at least for now,’ Carol said, letting out a throaty chuckle. ‘But tomorrow is another day.’