My Wife Doesn't Mastrubate 02

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Here we go again with more discoveries about my wife. Who says she doesn't pleasure herself?


So now I have determined that after about eight years of marriage, my wife masturbates, even though she won't admit to it. It is quite erotic for me to know this and watch her as I did once. The reasons and background can be read in my first post entitled 'My Sweetie Doesn't Masturbate'.

I was now on a quest to make her horny enough to predict she will masturbate and then hopefully catch her and watch without her knowing. Just the prospect of knowing she will probably masturbate and then doing it would be enough, but watching her would be icing on the cake. Not being naive enough to believe that everything that might turn me on would also do the same for her, I needed to think things out and do a little scheming.

Knowing that she is a woman who likes making love in the morning, I decided I would wake up before the alarm goes off and start making love to her. Running my hands down her back and cupping her breasts was enough to awaken her, but when my hand cupped her pussy and I started kissing her neck, she started moaning and twisting her hips. For about ten minutes we played with each other, kissing passionately, pressed together and then...BZZZZZ...perfect timing. 'Oh no!' she moaned, 'Damn!' I said.

With kids needing breakfast before school and the usual homework check, Lotty had to get up within the next five minutes to stay on schedule. So we lingered another five minutes until another buzz from the clock rousted us out of our romantic reverie. My cock stuck straight out and was throbbing for relief. My hand smelled of her muskiness and I was wondering who was going to be in the worst condition.

Breakfast as usual but with a couple of longing glances from Lotty which told me she was in need of relief as well, but the clock was ticking and soon the kids were waiting on the bus at the end of the driveway and Lotty and I were locked in a tongue-probing kiss of passion hidden in the house entryway. She ground her hips into me and sighed, then off I went to work, walking about a half block before cutting across a back yard and on my way back home.

Already my cock was coming to life, but as I neared the back door to the basement, I was struck with some concern. In my hurry to set things up, I had not thought of a reason to come back home, especially through the basement, in case I got caught. Nevertheless, the door creaked a bit as it opened and I headed to the steps and listened for Lotty's footsteps. Hearing nothing, I crept up eight steps to the landing and entryway and listened,intently....still nothing.

Only five more steps to go and just as I was about to take that first step, I heard her footsteps pad across the hallway and into the kitchen where there was a rattle of utensils. Then she padded back into the bedroom. I waited a few more seconds then quickly went up the stairs and cautiously peeked into our bedroom.

Just as before, Lotty was seated on the edge of the bed facing the dresser mirror with her back towards me. I had caught her just as she was beginning to pleasure herself, but I wished that I had a frontal view. The placement of the mirror did not afford me more than her upper torso, which was still covered by her jammies. But the expressions on her face were clearly visible.

By watching her movements, she was working on her crotch pretty steadily with both hands while watching herself in the mirror. Every once in a while, a little sigh would escape and she would slow down a little. But then her movements quickened and that familiar crackling of her pussy juices filled our bedroom and her groans were louder. I heard a loud 'oh' and then she slowed down again, but then she grunted 'damn it' and her whole body started jerking and convulsing. She bent forward over herself and her spasms came in rhythm with her grunts.

Her orgasm was a hard one, harder than most of them when we have intercourse and I couldn't help but feel somewhat inadequate...mixed with enjoying watching her pleasure herself so well. Her face was crimson and eyes squeezed tightly shut as she rocked and jerked. A couple of weak sighs and she sat upright, spread her legs wide apart and watched herself in the mirror.

I was again fascinated, raging erection in my pants and wanted to watch more, but knew that she would be heading for the shower. As I lingered a little longer, I was rewarded with a sight that almost made me cum in my pants. She reached down between her legs and pulled out a large spoon-shaped utensil with a thick handle and brought it to her nose to smell it.

Then she stood up and I silently moved down the hallway and to the entryway as I listened to her head to the bathroom. The hiss and splash of her pee was clearly audible and soon the shower was on. I went back down to the basement, found some paper towels and was squirting gobs of cum in a matter of minutes. Weak-kneed, I scrambled out the basement door and walked to work with thoughts and imagery swirling in my head. Already I was planning another way to get my wife horny enough to masturbate.



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