As I had thought, she was watching a videotape from my collection. The cardboard box I kept them in was on the floor next to the television. The cover of the one she was watching lay on the top of the box. She had selected one that had three or four relatively short episodes, unconnected by narrative or plot, all of one man and two women – as it happened, my favorite situation to watch. I looked at the screen, the performers were still dressed. I wasn’t sure, but I thought that it was the first episode on the tape. They – and apparently she – had just begun.
I realized that I was holding my breath, and let it out as silently as I could. I gripped the doorframe with my left hand.
Lois was watching without moving. Her left hand held the remote control for the video player. Her right hand lay on the couch beside her.
On the television, the man and the two women – one blonde, one redhead – were standing in a bedroom, embracing and kissing. The redhead, in front of the man, had unbuttoned his shirt. The blonde, standing behind him, helped him take it off, as he helped the redhead off with her blouse, her large breasts tumbling out as she unfastened her brassiere. She rubbed her breasts against his muscular chest while, behind him, the blonde took off her blouse and pressed her breasts – much smaller than the redhead’s but still very beautiful – against his back.
I ached with arousal and I longed to touch myself, but I did nothing. Lois still sat unmoving, apparently unaffected by what she was seeing.
The man was stepping out of his shoes as the redhead knelt in front of him. She unfastened his belt and loosened his pants. I thought I heard Lois sigh as the man’s penis was briefly visible, just before it largely disappeared again into the redhead’s mouth. Considering how long it was, it was amazing that she could accommodate it as well as she could. Behind the man, the blonde went onto her knees and licked the man’s buttocks. There was a close-up of the woman’s tongue running up and down the cleavage.
I heard a sigh that did not come from the television, and now, finally, I saw movement on the couch. Lois had brought her right hand under her skirt between her legs. Her left hand abandoned the remote control and was cupping her right breast through her blouse. Inside my underwear, my penis was agonizingly erect. I could not remember ever being so aroused. Still, I did not touch myself.
On the video, the man had reluctantly pulled the redhead to her feet, and was now himself kneeling in front of her. He and the blonde removed her skirt, under which she was wearing stockings and a garterbelt but no panties. Her pubic hair was trimmed into a neat line, only about an inch wide. The man and the blonde both licked her at the same time, their tongues meeting between the redhead’s labia, which she held open with both hands.
Lois shifted position on the couch and stood up. She unfastened her skirt and let it drop onto the rug in front of the couch. She sat down again and put her fingers into her panties. The sight of my wife playing with herself as she watched the same erotic video I had so often enjoyed was unbearably exciting. The skin of my face felt hot and taut.
On the screen, the blonde had taken off her skirt, and now all three performers were completely naked. They climbed onto the bed and arranged themselves into one of the many familiar configurations of such a grouping: the man was on his back; facing toward his head, the blonde straddled his mouth, and the redhead crouched between his legs with his penis in her mouth.
Ordinarily, the activity on screen would have held all my interest, but now I was even more fascinated by what my wife was doing than by the activities on the video. Lois was unbuttoning her blouse. Although I’d seen her breasts countless times, I now waited with almost maniacal anticipation. With one hand, she unfastened the front clasp of her brassiere and pushed the cups aside. I sighed silently to see her milky breasts, the nipples puffy and dark. She pinched them, one at a time, and made them hard. I exhaled silently and squeezed the doorframe harder.
On the video the trio had rearranged themselves. Now the blonde had turned around and straddled the man in the opposite direction. Curled over him, she joined the redhead in licking and mouthing his penis.
Lifting her hips, Lois used both hands to slip her panties off. I caught a brief glimpse of her beautiful bottom before she sat down again. Now I could see her finger move up and down along one side of her clitoris, as she sometimes did while I was inside her.
I was paralyzed with arousal and indecision. I wanted to continue watching, and I was ashamed of my voyeurism. I wanted to reach for myself, timing my orgasm to coincide with hers, and I wanted to end the agony of desire and make love with her. And what would happen if she noticed my presence? Would she be angry? Embarrassed? Ashamed? Excited? Amused? What would happen, especially, if I announced my presence by reaching orgasm, as might happen now at any moment?
Of course, I could try to steal away as quietly as I had come, and then return to the apartment at my normal time. I glanced down at the crotch of my pants, comically distorted by my erection, and decided that that was not a sensible idea. I could, perhaps, retreat to another part of the apartment, wait until I heard her turn off the television and put everything away, and then pretend to arrive home.
I was kidding myself: I wasn’t going anywhere. As to what would happen when she realized I’d been watching her, I’d take my chances.
Between her legs, her fingers were moving faster. She lifted her feet to the edge of the couch and let her knees fall apart. It looked like she had inserted her fingers into her vagina and was using her thumb on her clitoris. I had never seen her do anything like that, and my groin tightened, my testicles feeling charged and ready to burst.
On the screen, the performers had changed positions again. Now, the two women were side by side on the bed, both on their knees and shoulders. Awkwardly, they kissed and caressed each other as the man, behind them, moved back and forth, stroking his long penis a few times in the one before quickly moving to the other. The soundtrack was filled with women’s sighs.
Lois was sighing along with them. I ducked back into the hallway as she changed position again, and then cautiously peeked in to see that she was now standing on her knees on the couch, her left hand reaching between her legs from behind, her right from in front, both moving frenziedly.
I could no longer resist, and almost without thought I took a step forward into the room. At that moment, the sighs and the groans from the television reached their peak. There was a close-up of the man withdrawing his penis and ejaculating, moving his penis back and forth so that his semen would fall on both women’s buttocks. The two women, each with one hand in the other’s labia, reached or pretended to reach their climaxes, too.
As I walked toward her, Lois’ hands stopped for a moment, and then moved even more quickly, and her entire body shuddered powerfully. Her orgasm was a beautiful sight, familiar yet suddenly completely new, and more arousing than ever.
Suddenly I was coming, too, and I was sorry I wasn’t inside her. I reached her just as the last spasm coursed through me. I took her in my arms as I felt the thick wetness spreading against my groin. I kissed her deeply, running my hands over her wonderful naked body.
If she was surprised or embarrassed, she didn’t indicate it. Still kissing her, I struggled out of my pants. We lay down on the couch without speaking and I entered her, still hard, more aroused than ever, my fluids mixing with her fluids. We let the videotape continue to play, now on the next episode, as we made love.
II Lois
For all the usual reasons that seem to come up after five years of marriage, Brian and I hadn’t had sex in a few days, and after he’d left for work, I went back to bed and quickly made myself come. It left me feeling unsatisfied, and I was thinking about Brian all morning.
Brian called me just before lunch, as he usually did, and we had a brief, routine conversation. I wanted to ask him if he still loved me, but I didn’t. Did he know that I made myself come when I was home alone? Did he wonder? Would it make him upset to know that I did, or would it excite him? I wished we could talk about things like that.
I called him in the early afternoon, telling myself I wanted his opinion about some work that I was doing, but really just because I wanted to hear his voice again. I was surprised when his secretary told me that he’d just left
