On the Deck With My Wife

My wife was very athletic in high school and college. She ran track in her junior and senior years; in college she took dance classes to stay in shape.

I discovered my father's stash of 'girlie' magazines early on, and became fascinated and infatuated with the female form, especially after puberty kicked in. My dad's collection served me well for relief (which was frequent in my teens), but it also nurtured my appreciation for a woman's body: long, slender fingers; the round curves of her breasts, punctuated by her erect nipples and her rocky areolae; the rolling undulations of her abdomen, sinuating down to her thighs and calves; the beguiling curls of her pubic hair, pillowing her pouty, glistening entry. Each page captured my imagination (and caused me to spill a lot of cum).

My wife's body further captivated me. No longer two-dimensional, silent, frozen in time, I could enjoy my wife's body with all five senses that, like a song, I savored as time clicked onward. But I almost enjoy drinking her in with my eyes the most.

Not long after we married, we bought a small house in the middle of the block. It had a small deck in back just off the master bedroom. In summer when the trees were fully leaved, we were afforded privacy from the surrounding houses, and we enjoyed the deck in the nude from time to time.

We married soon after college, and waking up early for the working week was never welcomed. When the alarm went off one weekday morning, my wife poured herself out of bed, and padded out to the deck. I stirred shortly after and, being a typical guy, woke with a massive erection. I stood up and walked to the doorway.

My wife was breathtaking. She sat naked, languorously on the chaise, enjoying the morning sun, her left foot on the deck, her right up on the lounge, resting her elbow on her knee, allowing her forearm to swing freely. The sun had begun to heat the air, but enough of a chill lingered to make her nipples pucker and stand out tightly nearly half an inch, and inflaming her areolae that ring them. With her left hand slightly behind her for support, her shoulders curved in, giving her pert breasts a slight swoop. Her wavy hair cascading off her shoulders, her tits gently jutting from her chest. The taller blades of her thick black pubic thatch peeked above her left thigh.

The more my eyes tarried on her body, the more aroused I became. My hard-on hardened further, throbbing up and down with each heartbeat. My cockhead flared and swelled an angry purple. The first bead of pre-cum rolled out, joining my cock to the floor with a thin, slick thread.

I walked silently to her, pulled her left knee gently away from the chaise and sat on the deck between her legs. With her right foot in place and her left stretched out, her thick outer lips parted and the delicate folds of her inner lips peeked into view. Sitting cross-legged, my hard-on arched skyward, but the rivulet of clear pre-cum flowed out and trailed down the backside of my cock, hugging the vein to the base, then along the seam of my scrotum and pooling on the wood planks beneath. I ran my index finger from the base to the head, gathering as much pre-cum on my fingertips as possible, making my cock twitch and even more turgid. Barely touching my wife, I slid my index finger up from the bottom seam of her pussy, spreading the daub of pre-cum between her lips until I reached the hood of her clit.

Her pussy lips shiny and laid open like a butterfly at rest, I began masturbating in earnest. As I ran my left hand up and down her right calf, I collected as much of the pre-cum that had run down my cock as I could and glided my four right fingers up and down the bottom of my shaft. With my thumb holding my hard-on steady, pushing down at the base from the top, my body awoke as my index finger slid over the crown of my cock with intensity in each upstroke, followed by my pinky bumping against my tightening balls on the down.

While my hands moved, my eyes remained fixed, unwavering, unblinking, looking hungrily at my wife's magnificent pussy, her pomegranate lips parted over her full outers covered in the shiny raven hair that leads up to the diamond thicket at the base of her abdomen. My eyes climbed up, over her navel to the gentle curve of her breasts.

She threw her head back. Her tits jumped out at me. Her hard nipples, with their intensely rutted, dark areolae around them, challenged me. I stroked faster. More pre-cum seeped out over my fingers. The initial chain reaction coiled deep in my belly. In rapid succession the muscles in my groin contracted. My balls were sucked into my body. My cock swelled and felt like it was going to rupture. I gripped my wife's leg. I dropped my eyes back to her parted lips. Darting my eyes in split-seconds from the widest flares of her lips, to the knotty pink flesh above her opening, to the domed hood over her clit, to where the wild grasslands of her pubic hair yield to the smooth, deep plum skin of her inner thighs, I wanted - needed - every detail of her. I could feel my face flush as I drew my breath through my grit teeth. I slid my erection through my clenched fist as I felt the first wave of cum blast up my cock, under my fingers, exploding out of the tip of my cock, followed by a second, third, fourth, leaving pearly trails across the deck's rich brown wood.

As my orgasm abated, I caught my breath resting my head on my wife's left thigh. She tussled my hair, stood, swung her leg over my head, and headed off for the shower. I cleaned up the evidence of my morning endeavor and joined her.