It was a beautiful Monday in August, and I had decided to take the day off from work.

That afternoon my wife Ellen and I had driven into town to do some shopping, then stopped for dinner. We imbibed a good deal of wine, which always makes Ellen horny, and on the way home she teased me by rubbing my cock through my pants as I drove. I knew I was in for a night of pleasure.

When we got home, Ellen went to shower and change, while I relaxed in my easy chair in the living room. I was watching the news when my wife walked in and stood by my chair, wearing a pair of red shorts and a casual top. I immediately reached for her, pulling her down so that she was bending over me, and kissed her, exploring her mouth with my tongue. I began stroking her body while still kissing her, and continued to do so after she straightened up. Before long my caresses were concentrated high up on Ellen’s inner thighs, while she tried to stand still and just enjoy the sensation.

As my strokes became more focused, I reached over to unbutton and unzip her shorts, then pulled them down her legs and watched her step out of them. She was wearing a very sheer, very brief red thong. I stroked her pussy through the flimsy garment, and she closed her eyes. Soon she was moving against my fingers, gently humping my hand.

After a minute I pulled my hand away and told her to take off her top and bra. She complied without question or hesitation, and I sighed as I admired her small, firm breasts. She stood next to my chair now in only her thong and sandals, awaiting my next move.

I resumed stroking her crotch through her thong as I leaned over to kiss and suck her nipples, first one, then the other. She put a hand on the back of my chair to steady herself, but now it was my turn to tease. I told her to take her hand away and stand on her own, or I would stop what I was doing. With some difficulty, Ellen managed to do as I said.

I now decided to utilize one of the fantasies that Ellen and I often teased each other with to spice up our lovemaking, and I began to make up a story about a young, tanned and naked stud, with golden hair and a very hard cock, standing behind her, ready to fuck her pretty ass. Ellen moaned and arched her back, pushing back against my exploring hand, as if to present her ass to her imaginary lover.

“You’re offering your ass to him, aren’t you?” I asked her.

“Yes, I am,” she panted. “Feel how wet it’s making me!” But I ignored her urgent request and continued to gently fondle her buttocks and breasts, belly and thighs, while deliberately avoiding her wet pussy. Ellen’s breathing was becoming heavy as she humped back against my hand. Her back was arched, her breasts pushing upward, nipples erect, and she was no doubt fucking her fantasy stud’s cock.

“I’m holding his prick in my hand now,” I told her. “I can feel it throb as I slide it into you. Into your ass.”

“Oh yes! Feel my wet pussy!” she implored.

“Pull your thong aside,” I demanded, and she obeyed, pulling it away from her pussy and holding it there to make herself completely available to me.

“Please — ” she moaned, her voice turning husky. But I hadn’t teased her quite enough yet, and she was practically in tears as I used a feathery light touch to brush my fingers over her swollen cunt lips and clit for several minutes before finally sliding my fingers inside her.

She was slick and slippery and very, very wet, and she spread her legs to give me better access. I rubbed my thumb over her clit while sliding my fingers in and out of her, and I told her to come as she stood there.

“But my legs are so wobbly,” she protested breathlessly. “I’m afraid I’ll fall.”

“Don’t,” I said firmly. “Stand on your own and come now!”

She did almost lose her balance as she helplessly complied with my order only seconds after I had issued it. She came hard, gushing even more slippery nectar onto my hand and down her thighs. Her moans and growls as she did so almost brought me over the edge as well. Her body jerked and spasmed, but she managed to stay upright.

After she came I continued to massage her pussy, but with lighter strokes. This time I allowed her to lean on me as I worked her up more slowly. Her second orgasm, several minutes later, was quieter and gentler, and left her sitting on the floor, naked and smiling. What a gorgeous sight she was!

Soon after that I went to take a shower of my own, and emerged with only a long bath towel wrapped around my waist. Ellen was now sitting at the computer, wearing a robe and looking at sites that sold African drums. Both of us had once played in a West African drumming ensemble — in fact, that was how we had met — and I looked over her shoulder at the array of colorful drums and clothing available on the website.

Ellen turned to smile at me, and told me that she could picture me dancing in my towel with a bunch of African men — strong men, with glistening ebony skin, all of them wearing their long festive skirts, slit high to reveal their muscular thighs, while she and the other bare-breasted women played a hypnotic rhythm on the drums.

With that she began to tap out a rhythm on the desk top, and I started swaying to it in response, moving my hips to the beat of her fingers. As I did, she grasped the towel at my waist and loosened it. As I continued to move, it soon fell to the floor, revealing my hardening cock. Naked, I continued to sway in time with her increasing tempo.

“As we drummed,” Ellen went on, “they would all shed their long skirts, like you just did. Then, as the rhythm got faster and more frantic, you would begin to writhe against one another, flesh against flesh as you danced naked.”

I was more than a bit surprised by the arousal her story was engendering in me, but I couldn’t deny it. And at that point she moved her hand from the desk top to my cock and continued to tap out the rhythm on my throbbing flesh. She stopped tapping long enough to slide her hand down to my balls, stroking and cupping them, then further down to caress the flexing muscles of my ass, before moving it back to resume her drumming on my rock-hard shaft.

“Tell me more,” I begged breathlessly. “Please!”

“You’d be lost in a sensual, sexual frenzy,” Ellen went on. “Moving to the drums, drenched in sweat, your body sliding over the others. You’d slide your sweat-soaked flesh across their dark, dark skin. Soon they would begin to focus their attention on your light-skinned body. Their cocks would be hard and huge as they pushed them toward you, sliding their rigid pricks across your body, across your face and lips, until you found yourself taking one of those insistent cocks in your ass and another in your mouth.”

The pace of her tapping fingers quickened still further, as did her occasional strokes up and down my aching cock. I was reeling from the scene that my wife was painting, and I leaned against the desk to steady myself. But Ellen now turned my own earlier demands against me. “No!” she said sharply. “You have to stand up on your own. Do it! And tell me how it feels to have your mouth and ass fucked by those big, beautiful men, while I watch and drum out the rhythm of their pleasure, and yours.”

I tried to reply, but I couldn’t speak; I could only cry out as my come shot from my prick, splashing all over the desk and the floor. My legs were as wobbly as Ellen had described hers as being earlier, and I sank to my knees, moaning and panting.

“I think they’re just getting started,” Ellen said. She pushed her chair back from the desk, opened her robe, spread her legs, and took a fistful of my hair, pulling me in until my mouth was tight against the lips of her wet cunt. The rhythm started again as she began to move her hips.

As it turned out, it was Ellen who was just getting started.