Husband watches wife entice a pizza delivery man

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Husband watches wife entice a pizza delivery man

Akshara and I had been married for two years when this incident took place. We were at the stage of our lives when our sex life was getting a little stale and we were looking at ways to spice things up. One of the surefire ways every website recommended was to watch erotic videos together. We decided to give this a shot.

After a lot of trial and error, we stumbled upon a series of videos in which a woman exposed herself to a stranger, usually a man delivering food like pizza. We watched video after video of women pretending to accidentally drop their towels in front of these men. They would gasp in horror, use their hands to cover their breasts. The men would ogle at them, unable to believe their own luck. Some of the more daring women took matters even further. They would allow the men to touch them. The men would reach out and fondle their breasts, spank their asses. Sometimes, they leaned over and took the inviting nipples into their mouths.

“Oh,” Akshara said whenever these scenes occurred. “Oh my.”

“Are you turned on?” I asked her, putting my hand over her pussy and finding it wet. “You are!”

“It’s just…I don’t know how to explain it. There’s something very hot about it.”

“Do you want to try something like that?”

Akshara looked shocked at first, turning around to look me in the eye to see if I was teasing or testing her. She could see from my face that I wasn’t.

“Are you sure?” she asked anyway. “Won’t you feel jealous?”

“It’ll be quite something to watch you be pleasured. Besides, we’re not talking about sex here. We’re only talking about some mild titillation. You know how much I love your boobs. I’m always talking about showing them off to others.”

“I guess,” Akshara said, biting her lips.

“Tell you what, we can take it slow. Perhaps you’ll be dressed provocatively when you open the door. They can get their fill of you. If that’s all we’re comfortable with, we can stop right away.”

“That sounds good to me. Will you be there all along?”

“I want to be. Besides, it’ll be safer that way.”

“That’s true. I also want you to watch.”

“Oh, you little minx!”

We kissed and then proceeded to have some great sex. Afterwards, we decided to put the plan into action that very night. We ordered a pizza and then Akshara spent a long time figuring out what she ought to wear.

“It has to be sexy,” she said, “without revealing too much too soon.”

“How about that black chemise?” I said.

“That’d be perfect!”

She slipped into the bathroom and came out wearing the chemise she bought for our first anniversary. It hugged her torso. Two thin straps went over her brown shoulders before coming down to meet between her breasts in a dipping V. The edge was of slightly transparent fabric, which showed off the tops of her breasts. The whole thing ended just past her thighs. She looked, needless to say, beautiful.

“Wow,” I said. “I never get tired of seeing you in this.”

“Do you think it’ll work?” Akshara asked me.

“Of course it will! The delivery guy will go nuts looking at you like this.”

Akshara twirled for me, the hem of the chemise riding up a little in the process.

“One suggestion,” I said.

“Yes?”

“Don’t wear your panties.”

Akshara’s mouth opened in surprise. Her hand went to her crotch.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I can tell if you’re not wearing any and that means so can the delivery guy.”

I thought Akshara would decide against this suggestion of mine but she nodded and slid her panties down her legs.

“There,” she said. “I’m ready now.”

“Perfect,” I said. “Let’s go and wait out in the hall.”

I was about to move out when Akshara went to her jewelry cabinet.

“What is it?” I asked.

“The finishing touch,” she replied.

She brought out her mangalsutra, the traditional necklace married women in India wear. As I watched, she wore it, the black beads of the necklace standing out against her brown skin, the diamond pendent at the bottom nestling just above where the chemise ended. My dick went hard just looking at her.

“He should know I’m a married woman,” Akshara said, shimmying up to me and planting a kiss on my lips. “Makes it all the more exciting.”

“You’re really being naughty now!” I said and kissed her back.

We went out into the hall and I sat on the two-seater dining table close to the door. Akshara paced up and down, a bundle of nervous energy.

“Tell me,” I said, trying to distract her, “what kind of a man do you want it to be?”

Akshara thought about this for a minute and then shook her head.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Really? A young man, virile and with shameless eyes that ogle you?”

“I’d do it.”

“And what if it’s an older man? Balding and with a paunch?”

“I’d do it with him too.”

“You’d let them see your boobs, touch you too if it comes to that?”

Akshara came to me and pressed against my body. She kept her eyes on me the whole time.

“I would,” she said. “I’d let him do all that and more.”

“More? Like what, kissing and sucking on your boobs?”

“Yes. Oh yes!”

Akshara was close to coming and so I pushed her away.

“Save it for when he arrives,” I said.

Akshara looked flustered. My timing was perfect for less than a minute later, the bell rang. As we had planned, I remained at the table, in full view of the front door. My wife took a deep breath, smiled at me nervously, and then opened the door.

The man carrying the pizza delivery bag was perhaps in his forties. He had thinning hair, slightly greasy looking skin, and a stomach that bulged from his polo shirt. I had described him so well that I almost laughed.

The man certainly didn’t laugh. His eyes went wide and his mouth fell open, revealing a purplish tongue and a set of crooked teeth. Akshara held one arm over the door and smiled at him, made confident now by his reaction.

“Oh, there you are,” she exclaimed. “Please, come in.”

The man, without thinking what he was doing, obeyed her. His eyes found me and he blushed.

“Sir,” he stammered. “Pizza, sir.”

“Give that to me,” Akshara said, taking the pizza from him and placing it on the floor next to them.

I could see what she was doing. As she bent, the edge of her chemise slipped forward a little and the delivery man got a wonderful view of her cleavage, the mangalsutra dangling between her breasts. I could see that he was already getting an erection.

“I’ll get you the money soon,” Akshara said. “Do you want some water first?”

The man looked at me again, as if he needed my permission. I nodded. He sat down opposite me while Akshara skipped over to the kitchen.

“What’s happening, sir?” the man said in a whisper. “She is…”

I grinned at him.

“You’re a lucky man,” I told him. “Don’t be shy.”

“Shy?”

Before either of could say anything more, Akshara entered the room again, a glass of water in her hand. She went close to him again, closer than before, and because he was seated, her cleavage and the tops of her breasts were right in his face. The man flushed even more as he took the glass and glugged the water down. The whole time, his eyes remained on the exposed skin of my wife’s chest. Akshara played along, not backing away after he took the glass from her. She remained close by, smiling down at him in a sexy way.

“Thank you, Madam,” the man said after he set the glass down. “I should be going now.”

“So soon?” Akshara put on a face of faux disappointment. “You’ve only just arrived.”

The man looked at me and I raised my eyebrows at Akshara.

“Maybe you should give him an incentive to stay,” I said.

Akshara put her fingers to her chin, as if she was thinking deeply about this question. Then she placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. He almost jumped out of the chair.

“How about you give me a kiss right here?”

She pointed at her chest, right above the pendent of her mangalsutra. The delivery man gulped.

“Go ahead,” I said. “You can’t say no to her now, can you?”

Akshara moved her hand from his shoulder to his thick neck and leaned towards him. The man puckered his lips but didn’t move forward, too afraid still. Slowly, keeping him in suspense until the very last moment, my wife moved enough for his lips to touch her skin.

She gasped and the man pulled back, his lips making a wet, sucking sound as they came away from her chest.

“Are you okay, Madam? I’m so sorry.”

“Okay? That was so wonderful. I must thank you for it.”

The man gaped at her. Akshara moved her hand further up until she cupped his fat cheek. I was hard by now under the table and when Akshara looked at me briefly, I could see that she knew this too.

“Can I ask for one more kiss?” she asked.

“Of course,” the man said, looking less flustered now.

This time, before Akshara had moved, the man himself leaned forward and pressed his wet lips onto her skin, right on her breastbone. She sighed and the man took this as a sign to linger for a while longer, his eyes shut as he focused on his kissing. I caught Akshara’s eye again over his head and the two of us exchanged a look hot with meaning.

When the man stopped at last, I could see a trace of his saliva on my wife’s chest. Akshara breathed hard. She kept her hand on the man’s cheek as she leaned forward and planted a kiss herself on his forehead. The mangalsutra swung in front of the man’s face.

“You’re married, Madam?” he asked.

Becoming a little bold, he reached out and touched the pendent without asking her. Akshara let him examine it.

“Yes,” she said. “I’m married.”

The man looked at me.

“Sir, I hope you’re not offended,” he said.

“Why should I be offended? You’re making my wife happy. Isn’t that so?”

Akshara nodded and took hold of the man’s other cheek with her free hand. She made him look up at her.

“Thank you so much for this,” she said. “Can I thank you some more?”

The man, by now excited about what was to come his way, nodded. Akshara let go of his face and raised her hands to the straps over her shoulders.

“I’d like to show you my boobs,” she said. “Is that okay?”

“Of course, Madam,” the man squeaked. “I’d be honored.”

Akshara kept her eyes on him as she slid the two straps down her slender arms. She held the chemise at her chest for a moment before lowering it. Her breasts came into view.

They are magnificent, my wife’s breasts. They aren’t the biggest but they fit right into a grown man’s hands. The curve of them, the large areolas, the nipples that were by then fully erect, and the mangalsutra right between them, a sign showing just how erotic and forbidden this whole thing was.

“Do you like them?” she asked the man.

The delivery man was lost for words. Akshara moved half a step closer to him.

“Would you like to touch them?”

The man, with some difficulty, looked up at her, as if even after everything, he couldn’t believe this was happening. Akshara took his hands and slowly, carefully, she brought them to rest on her breasts. She sighed again and so did the man this time.

“That feels so nice,” she said.

The man squeezed her breasts, his fingers finding purchase on her flesh. She let go of his hands and he didn’t stop. He didn’t look at me anymore either, intent on kneading my wife’s breasts. After a while, his fingers took hold of her nipples and he tugged on them gently.

“Oooh,” Akshara said. “You’re so good at this.”

She placed her hand on the back of his balding head and brought his face up to her cleavage. He didn’t need another invitation. He began to kiss her chest again, lower and lower until he was kissing right between her breasts, around the black beads of her mangalsutra. His hands stopped fondling her breasts for a moment as he encircled her bare back and brought her into his embrace.

After a minute of this, the man came up for air. His face was sweaty and flushed.

“You haven’t kissed my tits yet,” Akshara said. “You don’t want to?”

The man swallowed once and then looked at her breasts again, right there before his eyes.

“I can do that?”

Akshara kissed his left temple, his cheek, and then right at the edge of his lips.

“You’re so sweet,” she said. “Of course, you can kiss my tits.”

She straightened up. The delivery man leaned forward, opened his mouth, and closed it over Akshara’s left breast. She moaned and though she had asked him to kiss her breasts, he began to suck on it. Akshara wrapped her hand behind his head and pulled him in even closer.

I was there through this all, my hand lightly touching my erection through my shorts. My eyes connected with my wife’s and we looked at each other as the man continued to suck on her breast, making low, rasping sounds as he did so. After a few minutes, he let go of the left breast and started going at the other one. Akshara touched the nipple he had relinquished and smiled at me. We could both see that it was dripping with the man’s saliva.

The delivery man, not content with sucking and kissing on Akshara’s breasts, used his now free hands to raise the hem of her chemise and squeeze her naked ass. My wife squealed and caressed the back of his head. I could sense a bit of cum sliding out of my penis, making my underwear wet.

After what felt like many hours but could only have been a few more minutes, the man separated his lips from Akshara’s right breast. This one also bore traces of his saliva, a thread of it even sliding down the curve of her side boob.

“I’m sorry about that, Madam,” he said, though he didn’t sound all that sorry.

“Don’t apologize,” Akshara told him. “You’ve been so good to me.”

She used a finger to mop up his saliva from her skin and, as he watched, she licked it up. The man gulped and licked his lips.

“Would you like a kiss?” Akshara asked him.

She didn’t wait to hear his answer, swooping down and kissing him full on the mouth. I could see her run her tongue over his crooked teeth until he let his own purple tongue out to meet her. Their tongues slid over each other for the next minute or so before Akshara finally broke off the embrace.

“That was wonderful!” she said. “Thank you so much for everything.”

“It was my pleasure, Madam,” the man. “Can I, before I leave?”

He pointed at her chest. Akshara smiled and nodded.

“Of course. They’re all yours.”

The man leaned forward and kissed each nipple, letting his lips linger on them and even letting his tongue come out and lick them once. Akshara cradled his head the whole time and when he was done, she kissed him on the forehead a last time. The man touched her mangalsutra and grinned at her.

“I’ve never done that with a married woman before,” he said.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Akshara told him.

She took a step back and the man took this as his cue to leave. Akshara closed the door after him, turned to me, and then slapped her forehead.

“What?” I said.

“We forgot to pay him for the pizza!”

“Oh, I don’t think he’ll mind.”

Akshara giggled. I went up to her and pulled her chemise over her head before dropping it onto the floor. My wife stood in front of me, completely naked.

“What did you think?” she said.

I kissed her, our lips pressing against each other as if they couldn’t get enough of each other. My hands found her breasts, which still had the faint imprint of the man’s fingers on them.

“I’d like to fuck you right now,” I said.

Akshara reached down a hand and took hold of my erection through my shorts.

“Good,” she said. “I want to be fucked by you right now as well.”

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