Old Man and My Sexy Wife at Hotel...

My name is Dr. Martin Reed.

My wife is Lizzie – a 6ft tall example of gorgeous womanhood, well, that’s my view anyway. Even allowing for my obvious bias I think it would be hard to find someone to disagree – Lizzie is no supermodel but she’s also incredibly alluring and understands, really understands, arousal and the difference between eroticism and sex.

We have developed a wonderfully experimental sex life, both of us being very open minded and confident in our absolute dedication to one another that we can both be trusted to have fun with no further implications for our marriage.

My very favourite thing, my most longed for and persistent waking fantasy, is to see Lizzie made to come by other men. Note that I didn’t say “to be fucked” by other men. That’s great too and often part of the scenario, but it’s not the goal. I like to see and hear my wife experience an orgasm by the hands (or tongue) of another. It’s the act of coming itself which arouses me, and indeed I’ve always been able to come without even touching my cock when I witness Lizzie come, regardless of the circumstances.

The act of orgasm is so primal, so uncontrolled and uncaring, so selfish and so base – something we’ve all been experiencing in the same way for hundreds of thousands of years – that I find it and the build up to it, almost especially the build-up, impossible to ignore or to deny Lizzie in any situation, in fact the more unexpected the better.
This obsession has led us into many unusual and unforgettably exciting encounters. Needless to say Lizzie is always a more than willing participant and, in many cases, instigates situations when I hadn’t even realised an opportunity existed.

I have written on this forum before about our experience in a cinema, where Lizzie was fingered to orgasm by an anonymous stranger, mere inches from his oblivious girlfriend. 
This story starts with Lizzie and me in a restaurant, a favourite place for both of us and the venue for many happy drunken evenings with friends or just us two. It’s a hipster faux-diner kind of place which serves traditional British and American dishes, and it has booths which both Lizzie and I prefer as we find you feel there is a little more privacy and you tend to focus inward, i.e. toward the other people at the table, without distractions in the corner of your eye in all directions.

The booths have also allowed me to make Lizzie come with my fingers, and her to wank me to orgasm under the table on more than one occasion, which is another reason we both love to go there.

One of the things I love to do when we’re out is to tell Lizzie when I see her being checked out by other men. I describe in detail what the guy looks like, who he’s with (an oblivious wife or girlfriend excites Lizzie most), what exactly he was looking at and, in a whisper, what I think he was fantasising about doing to her.

This game always gets Lizzie turned on, slightly flushed in the face and wet inside her knickers. I will often repeat the whole thing to her later that night when we’re in bed and on one memorable occasion she got so turned on that she had to quickly go to the bathroom to make herself come in a cubicle. She told me that she locked the door then immediately hiked her dress up, sat on the closed toilet seat and spread her legs so wide that she could plant a foot on each side of the doorframe, bracing herself as she used 2 fingers inside herself and her other hand on her clit to bring herself to a shuddering orgasm. 

Lizzie of course told me this when it was difficult for me to do anything about it – we were in a shoe shop, Lizzie casually trying on shoes and giving me the details of what she’d just done in little snippets each time she sat next to me on the bench to change shoes.

It was pretty uncomfortable for me to walk out of there, which amused Lizzie no end, naturally.

Back to the night in question and the restaurant. Lizzie and I were on our own and had taken a small booth.  As we went through our menus I was busily relaying some complicated intrigue from the medical practice where I work, enjoying myself by making my role the most important, wise and knowledgeable in the whole story, as we all are prone to do. Lizzie was making vaguely interested noises in roughly the right places but I knew that she was being polite – she didn’t really know any of the cast of characters that well and even if she had the subject was so arcane and such an “in” issue that it would have remained dull as dishwater to her. This didn’t stop me spending the next five minutes getting to the punchline of course, at which point Lizzie said something like “that’s outrageous”, in the tone of someone who doesn’t think something is anywhere near outrageous, but, as confidants will, she performed her role and I was happy I’d emerged the hero in my own tale.

We ordered drinks and as the waiter brought the wine I gave my wife a long appraising look. She was wearing a flamboyant deep cut V neck blouse with billowing sleeves and lace cuffs together with a skirt just above the knee and brown leather boots ending just below said knee. Lizzie keeps up with fashion (unlike me) and had a vampish, sixties sex kitten look going on which I was really enjoying. She completed the picture by wearing her long brown hair piled up on her head and heavy eye liner.

I had allowed my mind to drift to what may be under that skirt, my cock giving an almost imperceptible jump of interest as I began to look forward to finding out the answer when we got home, when the waiter interrupted both my gaze and my thoughts by busily putting down glasses and opening the wine, pouring immediately when I waved away his pointless offer to taste it first (I know nothing at all about wine).
The kitchen was busy and by the time our food arrived Lizzie and I had already drunk most of the bottle between us and ordered another when the waiter placed our plates in front of us.

Lizzie excused herself and stood, elegantly, taking time to stand fully so that I got a terrific look down her blouse, catching sight of the tops of her nipples just peeping over the cups of her bra. The bra, I noted with another jump of my cock, was white lace – which meant she was also wearing the matching French cut knickers, my favourite combination on her.

She slunk past me in the direction of the bathroom and I turned my head, wine glass in hand, to watch her arse as she crossed the floor. As I did so I caught the eye of an older gentleman, I estimated him to be at least late sixties, maybe even early seventies, who was also running his eyes with obvious delight over my wife’s curves. He looked at me with a smile and raised his glass a little toward me by way of a compliment. I grinned and tipped my own glass toward him and turned back into my seat.

Lizzie arrived and took her seat shortly afterwards and I was still grinning a little.
“What?” she said.
“That old guy.” I flicked my head backwards over my left shoulder in the direction of the admirer.
“Oh, him” she said, with a smile on her lips and in her voice too.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“He’s been checking me out over your shoulder since we arrived. I think I must appeal to the older man..”

I laughed and went on to quiz Lizzie about her thoughts on older me. She said that she must be attracted to them because she’s married one (I’m really not that much older than Lizzie but it amuses her so, you know..)
When she picked her wine up again and started to give some serious thought to the subject she began to describe the benefits of dating an older man – security, care, fidelity, sexual experience – the list was long and I noticed that all the time she was thinking it through she was absently staring over my shoulder at her elderly admirer. 

“Do you think that part’s true?” I asked her
“Which part?”
“That old guys are sexually experienced – I mean, even if that’s true, does that make them any better in bed?”
Lizzie went on to give examples of friends of hers who had either dated older guys or were married to them, and the details they’d shared about their sex life were almost unanimously favourable – old guys took their time, knew what they were doing, put the woman first in most cases and weren’t so hung up on relationships, pettiness or jealousy.

“Plus, for some reason, they all say that their guys had massive cocks”, Lizzie said with a laugh which turned into a snort as she covered her mouth with her hand, chuckling at herself.
I was suddenly pretty turned on, so I put my hand under the table and started to stroke Lizzie’s thigh. She jumped a little then relaxed and I carried on running my hand up and down her leg.

“Is that old guy still looking at you?” I asked.
Lizzie glanced over my shoulder. “Yep”.
“Shall we give him something to look at?” I asked.
Lizzie gave a tiny little gasp of involuntary excitement as I moved my hand further up her thigh.

“What do you say?” I muttered.

By way of an answer Lizzie slid further to her right on the seat, making sure that she was now fully in the eye-line of the old guy. She allowed one leg, bare to the bottom of her thigh, to just push out enough from under the table that he could see the flesh, then she took my hand from her thigh and placed it between her legs. 
My cock was hard instantly as I discovered how wet she was. I asked her how long she’s been like that and she said it had happened in the last few seconds after I asked her if she wanted to treat the old guy to a show. 
“I think that’s a resounding yes, then..” I said as I slipped a finger under the elastic at the side of her knickers. Moving toward her cunt I could almost feel the heat on my hand.

The moment I touched her wet, open cunt and was about to slide a finger inside her, the waiter appeared.
He asked if we wanted dessert, to which I replied “no”. Then, pushing a finger inside my wife I said, “what about you, darling, anything for dessert?”
Lizzie gave a little intake of breath, her face reddening, and shot me an evil look as I made sure she had the full, enquiring attention of the waiter. 
“No, thankyou” she breathed.
“Sure?” I said.. “Coffee?”
The waiter continued to wait attentively for her answer.
“No, really, I don’t want anything”, said Lizzie, quickly, as I speeded up with my finger fucking, sliding in and out of her under the table.

The waiter eventually took “no” for an answer and wandered off, leaving Lizzie to drop her face into her hands, her elbows on the table, and slowly move her hips against my hand in time with my finger sliding in and out of her.

“You fucking bastard” she said, as I chuckled about her almost coming while attempting to consider which dessert she might be interested in from the “specials” board.
I felt her start to push more urgently against me and could hear her breathing become more rapid and shallow.

“Lizzie, are you going to come?” I said, softly.
“Mmm. Yes.. Yes I think I am..” she replied.
“Is he still watching you?” I asked.
She looked up then quickly back at the table, her palms flat on the surface now “Yes, he’s God.. he’s looking right at me..”
She began to shudder as her orgasm approached.

I fucked her faster and faster with my finger, sliding a second easily inside her to join it, feeling her come slick against her thighs, running down her skin to the leather of the seat under her. 
“Show him”. I said.
Lizzie did not hesitate. She slid right so that only her left arse cheek was on the seat, her right thigh exposed. 
“Lizzie. Lizzie. Listen – this is very important..” I said, urgently.
“Jesus… what…is .. it?” she breathed

“When you come, make sure you’re looking directly at him – don’t look away..OK?”

“Oh… Fuck..” said Lizzie and I felt her start to squeeze and release on my fingers as her orgasm hit her.

I watched as she gripped the table cloth with both hands, bunching it up and pulling crockery and utensils towards her. She kicked her legs out straight in front of her, bracing herself against my side of the seat. At that second Lizzie dragged her skirt all the way up to her waist and opened her legs, pushing her hips forward so that there was no doubt that the old guy could see her cunt with my fingers working frantically in and out of it. It only lasted a few seconds, but it had a huge effect on her.

As Lizzie came, her gaze never for one second left that of the old guy behind us. She came hard, and I think she came twice. In any case she was soaking wet and physically crumpled back into her seat, not even with the energy at first to put her clothes straight under the table.. I held her hand on the tablecloth as her breathing returned to normal.

After a few minutes she looked at me calmly, her face still red and a little sweat beading on her brow but her overall appearance becoming more “normal” by the second.

“Wow. You came hard..” I said.
“He never took his eyes off of me the whole time. He was captivated, and captivating.”
“That’s amazing, and if I’m honest, really fucking exciting” I said.
“I saw him get hard, you know, in his trousers” said Lizzie.
“Big, you think, could you tell?”
She looked at me. “Oh yes.”
I needed to get Lizzie home to fuck her. I asked for the bill, paid, left a stupidly large tip because I couldn’t wait the extra 2 minutes for change and ushered my still shaky wife out into the dark.

As the door closed Lizzie glanced back inside the restaurant. 
“Oh God, he’s coming out” she said, putting her hand out for me to take.
Sure enough, the old guy came hurrying out of the door to join us in the street. I hadn’t had a good look at him earlier but I could now see that he was well dressed, silver haired and groomed. He had liver spots on his hands and a nose which told a story of a good life. He was wearing a smart three piece suit and polished brogues, and as he talked he stared intently at my wife, who seemed unable to do anything but hold his gaze..

“Captivating, eh…” I mumbled to myself.
“Sir” he began and I realised for the first time he was looking at me, although Lizzie was still very much focused on his face.
“Hmm, yes, sorry, yes?” I stumbled a little.

“I need to tell you that the experience you two were kind enough to grant me in there was the most erotic thing to happen to me in many, many years, perhaps ever. I want to thank you both and to let you know that I think you are a very lucky man indeed. Your wife is a real beauty, and she knows how to show her beauty.”
He extended his hand to shake mine and I took it unthinkingly. “David”. He said. “David George”.

“Oh, erm, I’m Martin and this is Lizzie” I said, indicating my wife, who still hadn’t taken her eyes off of him incidentally.

Lizzie offered her hand to shake but he turned it over and took it gently between thumb and fingers, kissing the back of Lizzie’s hand in an old fashioned way which she obviously found charming, based on the evidence of her giggle.
“Anyway”, said David. “I had to tell you, and thank you.” His gaze lingered over Lizzie’s neck and cleavage, before completing a somehow completely inoffensive inspection of her whole body, from head to toe.

Lizzie shivered a little, despite the warmth of the night.
I caught her eye and, to my immediate excitement, she gave me an almost imperceptible “yes”, with her eyes.
“David”, I said.

“David, would you like to fuck Lizzie?”

The old man looked stunned. His eyes travelled from me, to Lizzie, back to me. What he saw were two aroused people looking expectantly back at him, hoping he was going to play his part.

“I’m, well, I’m..” he began.
“Yes?” I said.
“I’m 72 years old, I don’t know if.. it’s been a long time and, well..”
“But you do, want to fuck her?”
We continued staring at him in silence for long, long moments.
He straightened up, stared straight at my wife and, his voice strong and resolute, said “Yes, yes I do.”

Lizzie and I could barely contain our excitement. I could just about make out here erect nipples through the sheer material of her blouse, pushing against her bra. I know that my hard-on was probably visible from the end of the road, I was so turned on.
I opened my mouth to start a boring but necessary practical conversation with Lizzie about getting the three of us home, whether to go to ours or his, dull things which someone had to think about no matter how hot the situation.

Lizzie cut me dead. She took David by the hand and led him firmly and quickly over road from the restaurant and into a long, dead ended, unlit alleyway which we had used ourselves for instant gratification a few times over the years.
But it had always been me, this was different.
“Here”. She said.
“Lizzie.. “ I began
“Do me here”  - this last said directly to David as she sank to her haunches in front of him so that her face was level with his flies. She carried on looking up at him as she unzipped him and took his very big, very fat and very soft cock out from his trousers.
Lizzie immediately put as much of it as she could into her mouth and started working it with her tongue, holding David’s hips to encourage him to fuck her face. At one point she physically took his hand and put it on the back of her head, showing him that she wanted him to control it, control her – use her to get hard. 

I was beside myself, I stood about 6 feet away, partially blocking the view of any passer-by, my cock now in my hand as I watched my wife go down on a 72 year old in an alleyway. 

David was making a rattling, sighing noise to counter the slurping, moaning and heavy breathing through her nose that my wife was doing.
After some minutes Lizzie couldn’t stay on her haunches any more so she knelt on the street in front of him to continue. 
David was obviously starting to feel the stirring of an erection, as he now had both hands on the back of Lizzie’s head and was firmly pulling her toward him with every thrust of his hips. 

Lizzie was making very appreciative noises as well and I could see that she was not able to hold anywhere near as much of his cock in her mouth as she had at first – he was getting harder, and he was getting big.

After several more minutes of my wife sucking his cock like her life depended on it, David bent to put a hand under each of her arms and gently lift her to her feet.
Lizzie turned her back to him, and, facing me, put her hands on my shoulders, using me to support her and she bent at the waist and opened her legs wide, waiting expectantly. I reached forward and pulled her skirt up to her waist, allowing her even more freedom to part her legs further.
David moved into position behind Lizzie and started pushing his cock between her cunt lips.

Lizzie started to talk to me in a whisper, her breathing ragged but her words clear, and incredibly exciting.
“He’s only semi-hard, but he’s still enormous Martin.. he would be fucking huge fully hard..”
“his cock is warm and fat.. he’s literally using his fingers to feed it, lever it into me..”
“I can feel it pushing gradually deeper into me”
“Fuck… he’s getting harder…”
Lizzie kept up this commentary as she supported herself against me, looking into my eyes and breathing heavily in my face.

David had started moving rhythmically in and out of my wife’s cunt, his hands holding her hips so that he could pull her arse back onto him with every stroke.
From what Lizzie was telling me, and from the noises they were both making, it was clear that David had no managed to get fully hard. Lizzie was telling me that she’d never had bigger, that it felt fucking amazing, that she wanted to fuck him in every position she knew..

I watched, amazed, as my wife came on this old guy’s cock at least three times, bracing herself against me each time, standing on tip toe as he thrust into her and shuddering violently as her orgasm passed. I had to hold her up the third time, he knees buckling for an instant as she came.

After 10 or 15 minutes of fucking her – I heard the old guy’s breathing change again, and his thrusts started to become more erratic. I knew he was close.
“David” I said
“David… you need to make sure you don’t come, OK – pull it out and come on her back..”
Lizzie looked up at me. “Martin, it’s OK, I want this.”
“Lizzie – No, this is not cool. No.”
David started to gasp for air and began to withdraw his cock from my wife’s cunt.
“NO!” said Lizzie, raising her voice.

“David – come inside me, please, come inside me..” she begged.

David paused, half inside Lizzie, and looked over her shoulder at me, unsure what to do.
Lizzie was staring imploringly at me and I wanted, more than anything, to fuck her.
“Do it.” I said. 

Lizzie gasped with pleasure and dug her nails into my shoulders as David rammed his cock home once more. I held Lizzie tight to prevent her collapsing to the path ash she came on his cock again.

“He’s coming” she mouthed breathlessly to me, maintaining eye contact with me as the old guy moaned loudly and stopped thrusting, holding my wife’s hips firmly so that I could see his knuckles turn white. He unloaded his cum into my wife, his cock pumping for what seemed an eternity.

However long he came for, it was extraordinary enough for me to look questioningly at my wife and whisper, “Still?” and she nodded in reply, biting her lower lip.
When it was over the old man staggered back to lean against the wall, his cock slipping out of her and hanging, semi-hard, against his thigh. In the moonlight I could see that it was, indeed, fucking enormous. I pushed my wife against the wall, face first, and immediately pushed my own throbbing cock into her cunt, thrusting urgently, feeling the cum of the old man coating my cock and running down her legs, already becoming sticky between us as it dried.

Within a few seconds I started to come. Lizzie’s cunt returned from its stretched size just in time to grip my cock as I followed David’s cum with my own.
When I came back to my senses, David was nowhere to be seen. 
Lizzie has definitely developed a fondness for the older man, however.