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|The Webcam (bi:threesomes, 5638 words)|
|Author: Max||Added: Mar 02 2013||Views/Reads: 5391/4350 [81%]||Story vote: 9.09 (23 votes)|
|guy watches his wife used by a man and woman in a hotel by means of a webcam.|
BZZZZZ my phone vibrated against the desk causing a pen to roll onto the floor. I picked it up and checked the screen. 1 new message. I swiped the screen and a text from my wife flashed up. "I'm here. Turn the pc on. xxx" I put the phone down and turned to my computer. It was already on. I was sat in a comfortable black leather and plastic office chair in front of a large desk that was shaped like a semi circle with a 21 inch monitor placed centrally. I had a pile of tissues on the left of the desk, next to a bottle of lube. My right hand rested on my mouse, a sleek little black wireless one that my wife had bought me for Christmas a couple of years back. I closed a couple of windows and opened up a new one. a few clicks later and a feed sprang up. It showed a hotel room. The feed clearly came from a web cam camera that someone had placed about halfway up a wall. It showed a double bed with the head pressed against the far wall and a bedside cabinet to the right of it and a cheap looking armchair to the left. The quilt was pulled off and was partly visible in the bottom of the picture, piled on the floor. The feed also showed my wife. She was sat on the edge of the bed facing directly into the camera. She was wearing a white 'hotel robe', and she was smiling. I should probably take a moment to describe my wife and tell you just why I am using a web cam to watch her sit on a bed in some hotel (I don't know which one). My wife is about 5ft9. I say 'about' because every official measurement doctors, and anyone has else, have made of her height records her at 5ft8, but she insists she is 5ft9. She has jet black hair which, when I met, was natural, but is now out of a bottle and streaked with flashes of purple since she saw her first grey hair a few months ago. She wears it shoulder length with an off centre parting and often crimps it. Nature has given her a lovely figure which while not quite 'hourglass' starts with slender shoulders, goes in slightly for a slender waist and curves out for lovely shaped thighs. Not to forget lovely long legs. Her butt is big enough to fill a tight pair of jeans, but tight, round and firm, delicious in fact. Her breasts aren't huge, or flat, just slightly smaller than average, but perfectly formed and still high and firm at 33. She has nice full lips, a straight slightly angular nose, and green eyes that remind me of a deep ocean on a sunny day. We have been married for seven years, together for nine. We met when I was a 27 year old Accountant Technician and she was a 24 year old Teacher trainee. Unlike every couple I've ever met we have no 'story' of how we met. Quite simply we were both in a club with our friends on a Friday night. I noticed her look her a couple of times so went up to her and asked if I could buy her a drink. She said yes. I got her one, asked her her name, what she did and a dozen other unimaginative questions, persuaded her onto the dance floor and eventually got her in a taxi back to my place. We woke up the next morning with hangovers, decided to go to macdonalds for breakfast, exchanged numbers and a few months later we moved in together. Told you, not interesting in the slightest. Since we got together our life has been similarly unoriginal. We got married, got a house, had a couple of kids, went on holidays, decorated, same old same old. Until, that is, my wife turned 30. Call it a 'mid-life crisis'. or simply a product of becoming fully comfortable with who she is, or the breaking of a dam she didn't know she had built, or something else. Whatever it was, a week after turning 30, my wife sat me down and told me she had come to realise that she was bisexual and wanted to try sex with a woman, or women. It took quite a few lengthy chats over a week or so before we had thrashed out all the implications of this revelation, but the upshot was that I was reassured that she still loved me as much as ever and didn't want to leave me, or replace me with a woman, or anything like that. She just wanted to explore a new side to herself she hadn't fully realised she had, and she wanted to try sex with women. Once I go my head round it I gave her my blessing as it were, and other last three years she had close to a dozen 'flings' with women. Most consisting of two or three 'meets' where they would go for a few drinks and stay a nigh at a hotel, then the next day she would come home and tell me all about it. The following night normally featured some extra hot sex for the two of us as we used the memory (in her case) or idea (in my case) of the previous night as fuel for our libido. In between these flings our sex life fluctuated like I imagine most couples' does, but on the whole has always been a good one. Quite frequent and always satisfying for both of us. We've never been afraid to try things like dressing up, light 'playful' bondage, toys, etc. yet also never underestimated the
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