I am a man who enjoys watching his wife have sex with other men. I am a stag. This fact is part of who I am and is always present in my thoughts. From the most mundane of work meetings to the most salacious of sexual encounters, my desire to watch my wife revel in her lust for other lovers is always there. It’s part of who I am. How then, did a man like me, find himself enjoying the intimate touch of another man’s wife?
For some degree of preface, I should briefly recount the events prior to the meeting in question. My Vixen and I had forged a strong friendship with the bedhoppers. These lifestyle podcasters, pop culture nerds and all-round wonderful people had become a welcomed, bright light amidst the gloom of 2020. Our initial online messages had developed into flirtatious video conversations, frequent online gaming sessions and even a social meet up over a delicious meal. All these things had peaked mine and my wife’s interest onto a path in the non-monogamous lifestyle that we had never considered; swinging. As our friendship grew, this gorgeous couple had clearly captured the lustful attention of my wife. I was always on the look out for exciting experiences for her and was keen to explore where this road may lead us.
Fast forward to a lull in the pandemic and the reopening of society. We had been invited over to ‘Casa bedhopper’ and were full of excitement over what might lay ahead. This excitement was laced with trepidation however, as part of me was filled with nerves. Where would I, a stag husband, fit into this dynamic? My wife and I had discussed this quandary at length. Would I simply watch? Would I participate? We both agreed that we would touch base as the evening progressed and take things from there.
We arrived to smiles and hugs. Mr H looked as dapper as always and Mrs H looked simply beautiful. I found, for the first time, that my Stag sensibilities were being tested by this gorgeous lady. The evening had continued perfectly. A fabulous meal of burgers and fries was prepared for us, the bubbles poured and the anticipation began to build. As the sun set we moved out to the famed ‘hopp inn’, the beautifully presented outdoor bar, complete with covered hot tub area, all hidden away from any prying eyes.
lluminated by the coloured lights of this sensual speakeasy, we found ourselves becoming closer and closer with our hosts. The conversation flowed effortlessly as did the delicious cocktails and soon it was time for us to take a dip in the hot tub. To my surprise, it was my wife that made the first move. Stepping toward the tub and touching the steaming liquid with her fingertips, she broke the news that she had not packed a swimsuit. This was not a problem however, as we were quickly informed that bathing attire would not be necessary.
I have watched my wife undress many times. In the mundane moments of our everyday life as well as in our erotic escapades. In all this time, I don’t think I had ever seen her strip off so readily and as confidently as this. Her eagerness both shocked and aroused me. The sight of her now naked form among the steam and lights of the hopp inn sent my mind racing. After she had lowered herself into the hot water it was not long before we all joined her. The scene was a delight. Two beautiful women and two handsome gents, naked and uninhibited, enjoying a cold drink. The temperature of the water around us mirrored the growing heat between us all.
It was at this moment that I noticed my wife and I had taken positions close to the respective partners of our hosts. I had also observed the hands of my wife and Mr H begin to disappear under the bubbles. Nothing too naughty at this point. A gentle touch on the leg here. A caress of a hip there. The fuse however was lit. My mind was racing at the scene that was quickly unfolding. I felt the excitement building within me with each passing moment. This excitement would usually be fuelled by my own internal monologue. The role of a stag in a hotwife dynamic can often be viewed as a solitary and one-sided thing. The silent watcher. The absent husband. Taking no part in the unfolding, erotic events. Now don’t get me wrong, I enjoy this sensation – tremendously so in fact. Pushing these feelings along would always be that voice in my head narrating what she was doing. Making me watch as she enjoyed the touch of another man. Imploring me to tell her what I wanted her to do with him, whilst at the same time gently whispering to not get involved. This time however, there was another voice in my head. A voice that was not my own. The voice of another man’s wife.
“What do you want them to do?”
Mrs H, it seemed, had plans in mind when it came to this hotwife dynamic of ours. I felt my chest tighten as I looked into the eyes of this beautiful woman. A woman who was not my wife but whom I felt a deep attraction toward. Now she was whispering words that showed that she not only understood me, but that she wished to become an active participant in our dynamic. The worlds of swinging and hotwifing were fusing into one. My cock began to harden at her words and her touch. She asked me again and simultaneously began to run her hands over my skin, underneath the water.
“Tell me what you want them to do?”
At this point, our whispers had drawn the attention of our spouses, who wished to be let in on our new game. Driven forward by Mrs H’s words, I felt emboldened. The voice in my own head that would have usually told me to stay silent whilst watching my wife was drowned out by her powerful and confident tones. I looked into my wife’s eyes and told her that I wanted to see her kiss him. A devilish grin grew on my wife’s face as she realised what was happening. Two teams were forming and they were ready to begin the game.
The lovers before me did not need to be asked twice and their lips met. My heart leapt as it always does when seeing my wife kiss another man. The mixture of eroticism and angst was as intoxicating as always. Only this time, I had a partner and confidant who was sharing and guiding me through the experience. As we watched our partners quickly become more passionate and heated in their kiss, the tension between myself and Mrs H began to boil over. I desired his woman and it was clear this stag and vixen were about to become a swingers.
Wanting to start slowly, I moved to touch my lips to the soft skin of her neck. She responded to this with delicate gasps and pushed her body closer to my own. It was then that I noticed my wife was watching us. For a moment, I was unsure how she would react and it was Mrs H who broke the tension. First, by checking that Secret Vixen was OK with what as happening. Then by asking;
“Would you mind if I kissed your husband?”
The sensation of being desired by a gorgeous and intelligent woman is a powerful one and my arousal grew at this moment. With my wife’s blessing, I held Mrs H and pulled her towards me and we kissed deeply. At that moment, with my eyes closed I got a sense of what my wife must feel like when she is with another lover whilst I watch her. In honesty, it wasn’t something that I had ever expected to happen and I was unsure how I felt being the one performing. I was very happy to be exploring this moment with Mrs H but I worried how my wife might react. This trepidation was quickly dispelled by Mr H, who had begun kissing my wife’s neck, much in the same manner that I had done only moments before. Hands touched bodies. Lips met lips. Soon we all realised that we needed to move our party upstairs and to the bedroom.
After returning indoors and drying our bodies I was pleased to briefly reconnect with my wife. As we ascended the stairs, I checked in with her, seeking confirmation that she was OK with how the evening was progressing. She reassured me and I did the same and we sealed our commitment to proceeding with a loving kiss.
We entered the bedroom and sat on the bed together. Music filled the surroundings and we chatted for a moment, breaking any tension that remained. I ran my fingers softly down the back of Mrs H and she checked that I was OK. I nodded happily. I was far better than OK. She then took the Initiative, moving closer to my wife and putting her hands to her face. Slowly their heads drew nearer and their lips touched. My breath quickened as my wife kissed her. I couldn’t help myself as my hand moved instinctively to my cock. Next Mr H joined in as he picked up from where he left off in the hot tub. Hungrily, he began to kiss my wife’s neck. Not wanting to be left out, I decided that I should also get in on the action. I ran my hands and lips over my wife’s body, making her the centre of attention. My beautiful wife gasped and moaned as three people continued to give her the pleasure that she so deserves. Seeing my wife in this way, was beyond intoxicating. Then Mrs H broke her caress and began to move slowly down my wife’s body towards her vulva. With each movement of Mrs H’s tongue, waves of pleasure jolted through my Vixen.
My stag brain became fully engaged and I took a moment to sit back and enjoy the spectacle.
As I watched the erotic event, I found I couldn’t help but find my cock again and stroke. The powerful image of this confident, gorgeous couple kissing and going down on my wife was beyond incredible. It was at this point that Mr H position himself at my wife’s side. Following his lead, I took my place next to her also and she gently began to massage our cocks. She examined both the tools now at her disposal. I smiled in spite of myself as I knew what was coming next. My wife smiled that wicked smile at me and bit her lip. She drew Mr H’s cock closer towards her mouth and ran her tongue along its length, before taking him in with a deep suck. After a few more strokes to my own dick, she soon let go to focus on what she truly wanted at that moment. I was more than happy for her to continue.
Usually this would be the moment for me to step back and simply watch. Not this time. This time, I had another factor on my mind, the radiant Mrs H. I took position next to her, intent on continuing what we had started earlier in the hot tub. Lifting her eyes to mine, she grinned mischievously and began to run her manicured nails over my thigh. Moving her delicate touch to my balls, our whispers resumed. First a simple check-in, to ensure I was still happy, then her tone became more focused on the performance in front of us.
“Watch them. Tell me what you can see.”
Her silky voice was the sound of my thoughts made manifest. Every suggestive word she uttered raised my heart rate. Each sentence pushed me closer to the edge. She understood that my sexual desires were linked to my wife’s actions. She was using that fact to enhance an already sensational experience and I had truly never felt anything like it. In the next moment, she moved away from ear and I quivered as she ran her soft tongue over my penis, looking up into my eyes as she began to fellate me. Even at this moment, she was still curating my experience, instructing me to watch my wife suck cock as she now did the same. When watching my wife give blow jobs in the past, I would imagine the sensations her bull was receiving with each movement. This time, my imagination was not needed as my new lover exquisitely worked on my dick.
My wife and I caught each others’ eyes for a moment and I gave her the slightest of nods. She knew I was seeking reassurance that she was happy for me to proceed further still. She nodded and smiled back, whilst continuing to occupy her lovers cock greedily. Whether she was enjoying what she saw in my own play, or was simply too distracted by her own pleasure, it didn’t matter, she was happy. The lust of all in the room was almost tangible. This continued for a blissful few minutes until it was clear that Mr H desired to take things to the next level. He climbed on top of my wife and she looked at me. My Vixen mouthed that she loved me and simultaneously, Mr H entered her for the first time. As my wife began to moan with pleasure, Mrs H only intensified her sucking. Soon I had to take matters into my own hands.
This woman was clearly in my head and I was loving it. I pulled her into a passionate kiss and more hushed words were exchanged. I wanted to focus solely on this beauty in my arms but her words kept steering me towards my gorgeous hotwife. She was now lost to the fucking she was receiving and Mrs H wanted me to know it.
“Look at her,” she said. “Look at his cock inside her. She’s loving it.”
The lust between me and Mrs H was now at boiling point and I found myself at a brief moment of hesitation. Do I continue to play the role of stag, watching as my wife is fucked into euphoria? Or do I embrace the role of swinger and indulge my own passions with the wife of another man? Mrs H, it seemed, had a secret weapon in her arsenal. She positioned herself on all fours at the edge of the bed, her exquisite form ready to be taken. Taken by me. All whilst I had a full view of my wife and Mr H fucking. I couldn’t wait any longer, I needed to have her. Running my hands over her body, I took my place behind my lover. I ran the tip of my cock over her arse and gently began to feel the wetness of her vulva. Gently at first, I pressed myself inside her and she responded with moans of gratification. I began to thrust into Mrs H harder and with each movement I could feel the pleasure rising within me. This siren had driven my stag brain into overdrive and was now allowing me the privilege of this moment. The room became awash with the sounds of pleasure. Individual bodies melding into a deep and sensual whole. It was ecstasy.
Faced with the heat of the scene that lay before me, the mental and physical bubble within me was about to burst. Pleasure surged throughout my body and I called out as my orgasm filled me. The sounds of the world melted away as pleasure filled me. I collapsed my body and pulled Mrs H toward me. Her soft back was hot against my chest and the sound of our breath filled my ears. This was not the only sound however. My hotwife and her lover were busy enjoying their own orgasms. My partner in crime and I rose together as we watched as our spouses. Their bodies tightened and jolted as they came and in that moment their pleasure was our pleasure.
Compersion*, it seemed, was a trait that Mrs H and I very much shared.
*The opposite of jealousy.