My wife is two decades older than me, but you wouldn’t know that by the way she looks.

She makes 45 look like 25, I swear. With her crisp black locks and her swimmer’s body, Shelby turns heads wherever we go, from beach to boardwalk to barbecue.

Last night, I noticed a man in the produce section of the market watching my wicked wife sashaying while she shopped — and she was well aware of his obvious lust for her. It lit a fire in her. My wife is the sexiest predator this side of the animal kingdom.

I was standing a few feet away with a cart, and I kept my distance. I like to watch my woman in action. Every type of action. She had her prey in her sights and was on his scent. I was certain the stranger wouldn’t know what hit him.

The man was about my age, and he was definitely charmed by her as she fondled long, curved bananas and caressed fuzzy peaches. She kept passing him, moving a little too close for comfort — or just close enough, perhaps. Finally, he got up the nerve to ask her a question. That’s when I walked away entirely.

Shelby would make it happen. I was sure. It was time for me to head to our house. I figured she’d have her new friend drive her home, or she’d call me for a ride. When my phone didn’t ring right away, I started to get a good feeling about the evening ahead and awaited further instruction from my wild wife.

We’d been planning on a quiet dinner at home. But suddenly a more delicious option was on the menu.

Sometimes, I stay off-site — or out of sight — when Shelby “entertains.” Other times, she is upfront with her lovers about the fact that her husband likes to watch her screw other men.

I was pacing impatiently, wondering what she’d tell her latest conquest, when I received her text: “His name is Sven. He’s an exhibitionist. He can’t wait for you to watch him in action.”

Well, that made things easy. I poured myself a glass of whiskey and waited. I imagined what Shelby and Sven were doing in the car on the way home. Were they kissing and petting at every stoplight? Was she telling him about the different lovers she’s paraded through our home during the past two years? Or was my crafty wife pretending this was a brand-new experience for us? She’d tell me later, and I couldn’t wait to hear about it all.

The front door finally opened, and the two lovebirds strolled in. Sometimes those first few seconds can be uncomfortable for Shelby’s men. They want to make sure that I’m only interested in watching — that I’m not looking to fuck them, too. I have zero interest in doing guys; I only want to see them do my hot wife.

I shook Sven’s hand, and after a little small talk, he said, “I saw you watching me talk to your wife. I could tell you two were together. That interested me.”

So far so good, I thought. Then things got even better. We didn’t make it to the kitchen. We didn’t make it to the bedroom. Sven started to undress Shelby right there in the foyer. Not in a poetic way with his eyes, but with his very real hands. He was adept at working the buttons on her blouse, and he had her bountiful breasts revealed in moments. I watched, leaning against the wall in a kind of happy awe, as he lifted her tits to his mouth and took turns kissing and licking them, biting her nipples now and then. Shelby almost swooned. I could see her legs trembling, and I thought she might melt into the floor.

Sven came to her rescue, lifting her in his arms and casting me a glance. I motioned with my chin. “The loving room is right this way,” I said. Shelby giggled at my error. “I mean, living room,” I stammered.

“Same thing,” Sven said, winking at me.

The night was going even better than I’d dreamed it would. When I’d sensed the connection between the two at the store, I had no idea that within the hour I’d be watching Sven bend my naked wife over the sofa and fuck her.

Shelby leaned over the couch, her lean legs taut and her perky ass thrust high. Wasting no time, he slid his long dick into her juicy slit. I listened to the noises caused by their colliding bodies, as intrigued by the wet suction sounds of her plump pussy lips around his pole as I was by the sight of their connection.

Then the show kicked up a notch. With a swivel, my wife moved the two of them, positioning her new lover so that Sven was seated and she was in his lap, facing me. As she bounced up and down on her tantalizing boy toy, I was able to witness Sven’s mammoth cock rocketing in and out of her slippery snatch.

Shelby’s face was etched with ecstasy. I love watching my wife’s pleasure build. Seeing how she brims over with true passion is what really gets me off.

Yes, I can imagine her fucking as many different lovers as I want. But watching is different from fantasizing. Seeing a real, live dick growing shiny with her wetness as she rides it makes my own desperate hard-on press firmly against my zipper.

That night was no different.

My only decision was whether or not I would wait to relieve myself. Did I give in and jack off while watching, or did I save my pleasure for later?

I chose the latter, so I could focus on memorizing every sigh she made, every moan he released. Sven pinched her nipples at one point, and she cried out my name. That made my dick even harder. Another man was inside her, but she was thinking about me.

When he came, she pulled forward and let him slide slowly free. His breath was coming fast, and he seemed a little less sure of himself than when he’d arrived. I think that’s because of Shelby’s magic. She had made him feel so good, he’d lost a little of himself inside her. And not just literally.

But now it was time for him to leave.

There were quick good-byes, hurried promises to hook up again in the future, and then Shelby showed him to the door. Now, it was my turn. I spread my wife on the living room carpet and let her feel how hard she’d made me. She pressed her firm thighs against my body as I slammed my dick into her again and again. I appreciated the gliding wetness left by Sven. But even more than that, I appreciated the fact that my wife had saved her orgasm for me. She let me know when she was on the verge, so that we could come together. The erotic ripples were thrilling. I felt like I was part of a wave, part of a tide, as the sexy intensity pulsed through us both.

From now on, I’m pretty sure that our living room will always be known as the “Loving Room.” And I know that I’ll always love every minute I spend there with Shelby.

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