Husband’s Greatest Gift

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Solo Male

Men like to have sex with many women; are women the same?

My mind was roiling with all sorts of emotions but my husband who started it all swept his mind clear and was watching cricket on TV with a screwed up face of a man totally absorbed. I felt very tender towards him. I moved closer to him and kissed him on the cheek. He held me by the shoulder and kissed me but his eyes were on the screen.

“You are a funny man,” I said.

“Any man who harbours a desire like mine has to be,” he admitted.

My husband is an uncomplicated person. That was what made this desire of his so surprising.

It was the after supper hour. We were on the drawing room sofa.

“Mrila,” he said.

“Yes, darling.”

“I have to tell you something that I have been wanting to for a long while.”

“Well go ahead. Quite simple isn’t?”

“Well it is not quite that simple or I would not have been keeping it off for this while.”

“How long?”

“A year may be a little more.”

“We have been married less than three years; that makes ‘a year and a little more’ a long while.”

“I don’t know if you have been noticing it but you must have felt a loss of intensity in my sex drive.”

“Well I have not been jumping about in bed as I used to. I suppose it is natural. So what do you propose to do? Is it variety that you are clamouring for?” I laughed. Tarun was not the type that philanders. He was very much a virgin on our first night.

On that memorable night Tarun was holding the rolled up condom to his penis tip with head tilted in an attitude of one who does not know not what to do next. An hour old bride, I lay naked with thighs widely apart ready for deblossming. Eventually he put on the condom and did the job. Later, much later I asked him; he said he was not sure if he should retract the foreskin before rolling on the condom. But Tarun was quite competent on bed. He gave me a good one next day and after he perfected the licking routine it was orgasm almost very time. But one cannot keep to honeymoon levels for long. I never felt his energies fading to the point where I should start getting concerned. Tarun finding it necessary to revive his sexual energy was thus quite surprising, but the method he suggested was completely insane. This is what he told me.

“I want to see other men have sex with you.” I was not sure I heard him right.

“You mean you want me to have sex with other men?”

“But only when I am watching.”

“That is your prescription to revive your sex drive?

“I am certain it will.”

“I suppose you have the men lined up.”

“The men must be ones you are comfortable with. Not of my choosing.”

“Thank you for the thoughtfulness. So I have to go about choosing.”

“Not that way. Look here Mrila I have not got into the nitty gritty of it. I merely expressed a wish. We have to work out the details.”

“You must have an outline of some plan in mind.”

“They must be men we are not likely to meet again. That’s absolute.”

“And what is relative?”

“Young men. By young I mean younger than you.”


“Oh no. Nothing beyond the law. Ideally first timers.”

‘Young but after the age of consent or whatever and virgins.”

“That sums it up.”

“So these days this is you fantasy.”

“Yes. As you know any topic I get interested in I research. This desire may appear strange to you but books say in varying forms it is common.”

“So married men all over are seething with a desire to see other men have sex with their wives.”

“Not quite. A man wanting his wife to dress with the breast valley showing is expressing this desire in the mildest form. Voyeur sites are better examples. You have seen that most of the postings in voyeur sites are nude pictures of wives that men have posted. They avidly read the comments in which other men express a desire to have sex with the wife and say so often in language that is raw. The husbands love to read these comments and I believe email exchanges often occur and follow up action is not uncommon. Even swinging or wife swapping is not a ploy men adopt to have sex with other women as most of us assume. More often it is to see the wife having sex with other men.”

“What do psychiatrists call this madness?”

“Nice point you have raised. It does not come within the realm of psychiatrists because it is not madness. It is normal and psychologists are the people interested in this behaviour. They have a name for it. Troilism it the name. You can look it up in Wikipedia. Angry?

“Angry? No way. I do not know whether to weep or laugh. I have decided to laugh. Ha! Ha!”

“Darling,” he said, “this no laughing matter. I am dead serious. I am desperate. It has become an overpowering obsession. Let me make it clear. My mental stability is entirely in your hands.” I looked hard at him. There was no doubt that he was in trouble.

“I’ll do what I can,” I said.


Tarun made no further reference to his desires and I did not broach the topic. Three days later we were watching a TV show in which a young man of twenty was lover gaziantep escort reklamları of a young married woman. To me it appeared as if this man was a perfect fit for the role my troilist husband had in mind. I turned to him instinctively. Apparently his mind was also running in the same direction for he also turned. We made eye contact and we smiled. Thereupon he got up, walked across the carpet, and bending down he hugged me and we kissed passionately. This simple event had a profound effect on me for from then on my fantasies were mostly about men having sex with me under the watchful eye of my husband. I do not know what name psychologists have given a wife who wants to have sex with other men while her husband is watching but was I now that. I was not horrified by that thought but I was horrified that I was not horrified but just bemused.

Three months later Tarun had a six month assignment in the States. His company was kind enough to allow me to accompany him. We had a one room apartment in Los Angeles and every week end we made visits to surrounding places of interest. One week end Tarun extended the holiday by taking two days leave. Our destination was Las Vegas and The Grand Canyon.

All major car rentals refused to accept the International driving licence both of us had. They needed a license from any of the States. But the manager of a rental company had a customer, a young man who had recently graduated from high school who was willing to join a small group for just the tour we had undertaken. He had a license and would be our driver as well one of our party. We met the young man. He was from Wisconsin and was going round the country by whatever means he could. From Seattle he had been on Greyhound buses and was tired of that. We met him and both of us took a liking to him straightaway. We soon agreed on the terms which were that as the driver he gets a free ride but he meets his other expenses.

The drive from LA to Las Vegas passes through endless miles of almond groves. There are stores on the way where you get almonds at not-so-bargain prices. In the distance you can see miles after miles of giant windmills producing electricity. The locals call them windmill farms. We then come to Hoover Dam and after that the drive is through semi desert. The road is ramrod straight and extends endlessly into the distance. Either Tarun or I took the front seat to keep Tom our guest company. He was very shy in the beginning but gradually loosened up. He was nineteen and was aiming at college education for which he had applied for loans. He was well read and Tarun was able to engage him in conversation in electronics which was Tom’s chosen subject.

When I took his side my topics were about his family. He was from a broken home like so many young people of this country. He was the only child of his parents but both his mother and father had children by their second marriages. He was not close to his father or mother but his step mother makes him feel welcome in her home. I then delicately slipped in the topic of sex in high schools in the US. In India young people feel very jealous of their US counterparts for the sexual freedom they are purported to enjoy. He told me he is a virgin as were many of his class mates though if asked they are apt to brag. Most girls of his class were virgins too though in most cases they lose their virginity before marriage in most cases to the man they marry. Of course more than a few do have a grand time. He often blushed when he a spoke of sex. On the whole he was interesting company.

The hotel in Las Vegas we checked in had the room Tarun had reserved for the two of us. The hotel was otherwise full to capacity. Tom offered to find a room for himself in another hotel but we said that before that we must visit the gambling hall. As we went down Tarun asked me if we can have Tom as the third member in the room and I agreed. Tarun held my hand and gently crushed my fingers. I am not ashamed to say that at that moment a thrill ran down my spine.

Tarun never gambled on principle. He did not drink or smoke either. Apparently he has left the ground clear for one explosive desire. Tom liked gambling and I as the daughter for a horse racing enthusiast was eager to take part. But I knew nothing of the many slot machines that were clicking away and card games going on rows and rows of green baize topped tables in the crowded hall. Tom had been to this and other gambling places. He took me round and we did quite a lot of playing. Tarun followed. He was knowledgeable about the card games played there. This was no surprise. Tarun had a curious mind and was well read. We had an enjoyable time. We did not lose much.

We had dinner and Tom was in a hurry to find a room for himself.

“We have a double room Tom. You should stay with us,” said Tarun.

“How is that possible,” said Tom. “You need privacy.”

“Do we Mrila?”

“No,” I said. “One thing we are tired and may sleep off, and even if we become intimate it does not matter. He has fun watching and we lose nothing. Charity at no cost I’d say. We may even gain merit.” Both the men laughed.

“Well spoken,” Tarun said. “I believe etiquette books strongly disapprove of covering the face with a pillow when something is going on.”

“Tarun,” said Tom, “I am not sure that there are etiquette books that deal with this sort of activity.”

“In that case Tarun and I will author one,” I said, “and I assure you it will be a best seller.”

“I reserve a copy,” said Tom.

“You deserve a complimentary copy,” said Tarun, “and you will get one inscribed suitably by the authors.”

Tom said he will risk it and assured us that he will not break the rules.

Rooms are large and sumptuously furnished in Las Vegas and are cheap. Food is very good and cheap too. The idea is to entice people to the immensely profitable gaming tables where the advantage lies heavily with the house. Our room had two double beds placed parallel two metres apart. The tenth floor room had a balcony from where on had a grand view of Sin City. We three stood for a time on the balcony with Tom pointing out the many casinos and what they were famous for. Other than gambling activities like sex shows are popular as one would expect in a city as infamous as Las Vegas was. It was past ten and time to change. Tom went to the bathroom and we have some talking to do.

“Are you in a mood for it?”

“I am hot Tarun.”

“Tom will be watching.”

“That would make it exciting,” I said.

“Won’t it be unfair to him?”


“Of course. When we have a sumptuous feed he has to starve.” I was neither answering nor meeting Tarun’s eye. He continued. “Mrila would you like to have sex with him?” I continued the silence. “Silence means yes,” said Tarun,” but this matter is too serious to make assumptions of that sort. You must answer and you must not do it just to please me. Are you eager for sex with him?”

“Tarun once done it cannot be undone. Suppose your feelings towards me change after you have seen me with him.”

“I solemnly say that it will not happen. My passion will only increase several fold.” I remained silent for some time and then I spoke clearly and loudly.

“I am eager to have sex with Tom.” We hugged and kissed. We were ready for adventure.

My mood was boldness verging on the reckless. I believe Las Vegas air has that effect on most. So far we have not bothered to find out if Tom was in the loop. I am sure that if a couple had chosen Tarun to have sex with the woman with the husband watching he will most likely run for his life. I knew with a woman’s instinct that I must soften him up and at the same time let him feel that my husband was very charitable in such matters. In short I must prepare him. I had a plan.

I chose a beige night dress that Tarun likes best. The neck was broad and low and the hem came just up to the knees. Bending forward can expose the whole of the breasts and shifting the legs can come perilously close to exposing the vulva. Before changing I ran the razor over the pubis to make sure the vulva was smooth. Both the men were in pyjamas.

“Tom why not you give us lessons in poker.” I said. Tom was eager to teach and Tarun to learn. Of the many card games of the gaming tables poker is the best known. We pulled both cots to the middle and sat with feet dangling over the edges. Poker like bridge is a game of skill. I am good at card games. In bridge I can keep count of the trumps and after a few tricks I can guess who holds the top cards. Tom was a good teacher. He did well but he could have done better. I was the reason why he was not at his best. I was diverting him by exposing myself tantalisingly. But was I seducing him? It suddenly struck me that exactly what I was doing, and funnily I was doing so in my husband’s presence and with his encouragement. I was in the seducing game for the first time in my life and I was enjoying it immensely.

I could feel Tom’s darting eyes on me as I bent to pick the cards and that simple act can take a lot of energy if the husband is hovering about. I gradually became more animated and frequently had to move my legs this way and that. Finding it difficult to find a comfortable position I squatted with legs crossed as only an Indian can. Basic instructions over we started playing and at the end of an exciting round I was so thoroughly pleased with myself at having won that I was unaware that I had exposed my vulva and that two pairs of wide open eyes were blazing on it. I screamed and arranged my dress whereas my husband and Tom laughed and gave themselves a high five. My plan had worked. Tom had joined hands with Tarun to tease me. The game continued and my vulval show became a regular feature with Tarun as eager a participant as Tom. By the time it ended their hands were quite likely sore from vigorous high fives.

“We have an early start tomorrow,” said Tarun and we stopped the game. Tarun pushed back the cots but significantly Tom’s cot was less than a metre away. I did my part too. I put off the main wall lights but kept the table light on.

“You did it quite naturally,” said my husband.

“Now it’s your turn,” I said. So saying I peeled off my dress and as Tom was settling down we were in a tight embrace.

“Lick me darling,” I said and I stretched on my back and spread my thighs. I was so hot that my G Spot was quite at the surface and soon my buttocks were heaving and I had a climax. I moaned without inhibition.

“I can’t wait,” I said and Tarun did not make me wait. He was inside me. I turned towards Tom. He was lying on his side facing us. His eyes were open and his hand was on his exposed penis. He was jerking off. I kept looking at him as I reached my second climax which coincided with Tarun’s ejaculation and Tom’s successful jerk-off. Three in one as it were. Tarun gave me on more. We slept.

The early morning drive from Las Vegas to Flagstaff was very pleasant.

“We behaved horribly last night,” I said. I was in the back seat and Tarun was by the said of our driver.

“Horrible?” said Tom. “I enjoyed the sight of two people uniting. I rare offering and I thank you both for it.”

“For you to be jerking off when we were having it was horrible. It goes against all canons of Indian hospitality,” I said.

“It does,” agreed Tarun.

“Tonight we’ll make amends,” I said and reaching forward I rubbed Tom’s cheek and then took my fingers over his lips. He thereupon kissed my fingers. I felt warm about my vulva and a bit moist too.

We were in a capital frame of mind to admire the Grand Canyon. The word awesome is a much abused word in the US. But the Grand Canyon is really quite awesome. We could see the Colorado River deep deep down and from one point the lodge were visitors who venture down have to say overnight was also visible. We saw the mules on the trail at various levels including one group that were tiny moving dots on the floor of the canyon. One has to see the misery on the faces of those in the final stages of the climb up to realise the depth of the canyon and steepness of the climb.

We decided to take the Angel trail for a short distance to get a feel of the canyon. Tarun and I went for a vertical distance of may be 200 feet. Even from here in the climb back I had to rest twice to regain my breath. Tom who was young and in high school had taken part in middle distance running did about 400 feet. He was panting too when he was on level ground. The three of us sat on the grass. After a while Tom lay down.

“Rest your head on my lap,” I said and moving closer to him I sat with my legs stretched on either side of his body and rested his head high up on my right thigh. I patted his cheeks and tousled his hair. To start with he was lying on his back but after a while he turned to his left. In this position his nose was not more than an inch and a half from my vulva. If he had had the olfactory powers of a dog he surely would have smelt intense desire that was steaming within me.

Tarun was watching us with interest at the same time he was reeling out info about the Canyon that the guide sheets do not mention. I was meanwhile gliding closer to Tom and soon I was able to turn his head in such a way that his mouth was smack on my vulva. Even with two layers of clothing covering my vulva was throbbing. A tour bus now disgorged a large group of noisy foreigners and we could not continue our exciting posture.

“We’ll have something to eat on the way back to our room,” said Tarun,

When I got up I was limping.

“Nothing much,” I told Tom in answer to his anxious query. I must have over stretched the muscles on my buttocks and on the inner side of the thigh during the climb.”

“As an athlete I have some physio training,” said Tom, “I’ll make you OK.”

“Smart work,” said Tarun when he got me alone.

Our room in Flagstaff was again a single room with two beds. It was smaller but with no gamblers to pay the house it was more expensive. Soon after we returned we changed and I was ready for some physiotherapy. Tarun decided my attire for the occasion. ‘Strip totally and lie face down,’ he said. I came wrapped in a towel and as I lay down I loosened the towel and covered myself with it. We had no herbal oil and Tom used hair oil in merest drops for lubricating the movements.

He pulled the towel over the back of my chest to expose the lower part of my body. He then started with the small of the back and then over the cheek of one and then the other buttock. Next he started on the inner side of one thigh and then the other. He did not go up to the crotch, not yet. Now it started getting interesting. He did the inner side close to the vulval lip on one side and then on the other. Instinctively I spread my thighs ever so slightly. Now he was on the vulval slit. He teased the inner lips and then he took off his hand. I could hear him open the oil bottle. He was apparently arming himself with oil. But what for? I was to know presently. Yes, his middle finger palm side upwards rode the cleft as if it was a railway and gently settled on the clitoris. I could feel the oil smeared soft finger on the clitoris, and then he tickled. My hip rose a clear two inches from the bed and then thumped down. Again he tickled and again my hip rose and fell, and again, and again. Then he tickled without break. My hip kept on rising and rising and I was moaning, and then he held me by the upper part of my thigh and brought my vulva to his lips and started licking.

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