Peter was fucking my wife. Samantha was kneeling in the middle of the king-size bed and Peter was pumping his thick cock in and out of her like there was no tomorrow. And she was clearly enjoying it.
‘Oh God, Peter…!’ she moaned between gasps.
How had we got here, I hear you ask? A very good question. A very good question indeed. It all seemed like a fantasy dream on fast forward.
My wife and I had arrived in Rabat, the Moroccan capital, less than a week ago to take up a position at the British Embassy. Peter, my new boss, was putting us up in his Residence until our own accommodation became available at the end of the week. He and his girlfriend, Charlotte, had been fantastic hosts whilst we settled in. Yesterday, when I’d started my first day at work, Charlotte had taken Sam shopping in the local markets. They had obviously got on well, because when I’d seen them later, they’d been giggling like schoolgirls, whispering in each other’s ears and making plans together.
Tonight, Peter was hosting a private diplomatic party for friends and colleagues from the Embassy. The men were all looking fairly relaxed in chinos and open-neck shirts, whilst the ladies mostly went for cocktail dresses which showed off their bare legs in the balmy climate. It had been a great opportunity for us to relax and get to know people from the community we would be part of for the next three years.
As you would expect for someone in his position, Peter knew how to throw a party. He was attentive and charming, though if truth be known, he was also a bit of a Casanova – this I knew for two reasons – firstly, because we had served together in a previous posting where his exploits had been notorious, and secondly, despite my presence, that evening he was quite obviously hitting on my wife. I’d seen them chatting and laughing together several times, and once, during the party, they had both simultaneously looked at me with conspirational smiles. Interestingly, Peter’s girlfriend didn’t seem to mind this at all. If anything, she seemed to find it amusing.
In our previous posting together, Peter has also been my boss. He was knowledgeable, intuitive and decisive, and to be honest, I had always been slightly in awe of him. He was also quite physically imposing. He was actually slightly younger than me – perhaps in his later thirties now, compared to my forty-six, and he had a powerful, stocky build that the ladies seemed to go for.
The evening’s activities drew to a close around one in the morning. As the last of his guests departed, Peter asked Sam and I if we would join him and Charlotte for drink in their private quarters so they could ‘get to know us a little better’.
Sam seemed very keen. She’d had her fair share to drink and was clearly enjoying the attention. Charlotte, who was much younger than Peter – about twenty-four, I guess, was a slim, fit girl, with long ginger hair and freckles. She had small, firm boobs, long legs and a nice, tight ass. She was open and friendly, but also quite assertive and, even though we’d only known her a few days, I could see that she liked to get her own way.
That was over an hour ago. Since then we – or rather, my wife – had been slowly seduced by Peter in front of me, whilst I had been kept occupied by Charlotte, who was chatting and playfully teasing and flirting with me.
I was very conscious both by how much my wife seemed to embrace and enjoy being seduced by Peter, and also by how easily I seemed to accept it without challenge or comment. In conversation Charlotte somehow made it appear to be natural and she also paid a lot of attention to me, keeping me distracted and making me wonder if I was imagining things. Part of me wondered if this was a routine they practiced? Were they swingers looking for a good time?
It was now well into the early hours and at this point Charlotte asked if I would accompany her to the kitchen to replenish drinks. Glancing at Sam, who was giggling as something Peter was saying, I murmured assent, and followed Charlotte out of the room.
Charlotte kept me chatting whilst we found and mixed drinks in their enormous kitchen downstairs. When we returned, almost twenty minutes later, it was to a scene that stopped me in my tracks. Peter and Sam were still side by side on the sofa. Now, however, Sam had her head back and eyes closed, whilst Peter’s hand was under her cocktail dress between her parted legs. The top of my wife’s dress had been pushed down and Peter was kissing the nipple of an exposed breast. Sam was moaning with pleasure.
Before I could react, Charlotte grabbed my face and kissed me softly on the lips before whispering in my ear, ‘Let’s sit down and watch!’
I didn’t get a chance to respond as I felt Charlotte’s hand between my shoulder blades, propelling me towards the other sofa
Shocked, I seemed unable to do anything other than what I was told. What was happening? Why was this happening? How was this happening? To my surprise, I felt Charlotte’s hand start to stroke my cock through my trousers and I was suddenly aware of how hard I was. Oh my God - I was turned on by this! What was Charlotte thinking?
I wasn’t the only one who had noticed. I felt Charlotte’s lips by my ear again.
‘Sam said this would excite you…’ she whispered.
Oh. My. God. Sam had said that? To Charlotte? Whom we hardly knew?
Here was the thing. For years, I’d had a fantasy about Sam sleeping with another man. Sam knew this but had never once – not once – given me any indication that she had any interest in fulfilling my fantasy. And now it was happening right in front of me!
Had this night been planned, then? What exactly had Sam and Charlotte been discussing on their shopping trip? Had Sam somehow set this up with Peter and Charlotte? It would explain a lot – all those knowing smiles and looks, and the seduction this evening.
I wondered what else Sam had said. She knew my fantasies all too well – even if many of them remained unfulfilled. I suddenly felt a sense of uncertainty and shame at what Peter and Charlotte must now know about me. We would be living with these people in the community for the next three years. And Peter would likely be my boss throughout that time…
I glanced at Charlotte and was startled to see that she had leaned back into the sofa and now had her hand between her bare legs. Her dress had ridden up and she had slipped her hand into her panties and was slowly masturbating whilst watching Peter and Sam. I could clearly see a neatly trimmed ginger bush through the sheer material of her panties. It was extremely erotic and I could feel my cock straining uncomfortably.