It’s a fantasy of many men: watching your wife with another woman. And here I am living the dream. Helen had walked into the sitting room and eyed me, coquettishly. She’d dressed to tease and torment me. She’d always made an effort with fancy dress, but this was something else. A witch’s outfit that was entirely unsuitable for the Halloween party she was supposed to be hosting. Black stilettos, a tight fitting black dress, zipped up at the back, split at the thigh. The only part of the outfit that marked her out as a witch was a black pointed hat which she’d discarded as soon as she’d entered the room.
‘I can’t stay too long,’ she whispered to me, ‘I have to get back for the party, your mother can only look after the kids for a few hours.’
She turned to Circe, who was wearing a loose fitting, blue satin gown and put her arms around her neck. Circe’s arms encircled Helen’s waist, then she moved one hand down over Helen’s bottom. They kissed, delicately, sensuously. My heart was beating so hard I thought they’d hear it. I was overwhelmed by a feeling of lust that radiated from my cock. I stood, entranced, as my wife and our neighbour made love.
Circe began kissing Helen’s neck. Helen raised her chin, stretching her neck to accommodate the soft caresses of Circe’s tongue. Helen’s appreciative groans further stirred my lust. I was stunned by my wife’s eagerness. I never thought she’d entertain the idea of sex with another woman, let alone indulge in such an exhibitionist display.
Circe stopped kissing Helen and turned to me. ‘Delicious,’ she teased. Her voice was soft, purring. Everything about Circe was sexy. The first time I met her I knew I would have to have her. She reminded me of one of those Hollywood actresses of the fifties; a curvaceous, voluptuous siren, a redheaded vixen.
She’d moved in to our street six months earlier. Three doors up. Helen and I first saw her getting out of her car when we came back from a shopping trip. We waved to her and struck up a conversation. She was intelligent, vivacious and well spoken. Looks, charm and intelligence. I just had to have her.
When we got home Helen was effusive.
‘She’s gorgeous and she’s so friendly.’
I agreed. Helen struck up a friendship with Circe and was often at her house for coffee. I was pleased. Some of her old enthusiasm returned which began to rekindle in me an interest in our sex life, a part of our marriage that had withered since Helen had found out about a previous affair of mine.
Circe’s hand moved up from Helen’s bottom toward her neck where she took hold of the zipper tag and pulled it down her back. The back of the dress opened up. Circe slipped the straps from Helen’s shoulders, pulled the dress down over her breasts and let it slip to the floor. Helen stepped out of it. She was naked save for a flimsy pair of briefs and her heels. She looked at me and smiled; a lazy, sexy smile that I hadn’t seen for years and I remembered how much I’d fancied her when we first met. I felt a sudden and deep regret for all those affairs. But the feeling was fleeting. I was overwhelmed by lust. Circe began playing with Helen’s nipples and fondling her breasts whilst telling her how beautiful she was. Helen was now panting, she pulled Circe’s head towards her and kissed her, deeply and greedily. Circe’s hand slipped beneath the band of Helen’s briefs and Helen moaned as Circe’s hand teased her cunt. My cock felt tight enough to split.
Each year Helen holds a hallowe’en party for local kids and parents. It’s a fun event and keeps the community spirit going. Today, on the morning of this year’s party, Helen had given me a shopping list of food and drink. As I was going out she said, ‘Could you pop round to Circe’s and ask her if she would like to come tonight? I’m sure she won’t but it would be nice to ask.’
‘Of course,’ I said, trying to mask the excitement in my voice. So, I knocked on Circe’s door. And when it opened my mouth literally watered. A tumble of red hair, a tailored shirt, a pencil skirt, a fifties siren.
‘Trick or treat,’ I said. She smiled. I invited her to the party and she accepted. ‘Wow,’ I said, ‘something smells nice.’
‘Oh, I’m making hot toddy, I love it at this time of the year. Do you want to come in and try some?’
I smelt an opportunity. ‘I’d love to’. I followed her through to the kitchen where I sat on a barstool. I watched as Circe bent down to a cupboard to get a glass. As she did so her pencil skirt tightened across her thighs and I was treated to a magnificent view of her beautifully rounded bottom which curved out from a lithe back. My cock hardened. Circe took the glass over to the cooker and began to ladle hot toddy from a saucepan.
‘You know, I’ve always wondered why you’re called Circe. It can’t have anything to do with Game of Thrones, you’re not young enough.’
. ‘The Odyssey’ she said.
‘The Odyssey,’ she repeated. ‘Look it up.’ She smiled and handed me a hot toddy. I sipped it. It was delicious.
‘Wow, what’s in it?’
‘Plenty of spices then honey to soothe and alcohol to numb. Do you want to drink that in the sitting room, it’s more comfortable in there?’
My hopes had risen along with my cock. I took a gulp of the toddy and felt a flush of warmth. I followed Circe down the hallway watching her hips sway in front of me. The alcohol had begun to affect me and I was unabashed by the obviousness of my erection.
When I entered the sitting room I was taken aback at the sight of two statues situated by the far wall. Both statues were depictions of men. One was fully dressed and had an erection protruding from unzipped trousers, the other was also dressed but his trousers and pants were round his ankles. He also had an erection. I was surprised by the prominent display of such risqué figures and I began to laugh.
‘Do you like them?’ asked Circe.
I took another gulp of the toddy and, emboldened by the alcoholic flush, made up my mind to test the water. I reached out and put a hand on her bottom.
‘I certainly do and who can blame them for having erections when you’re around? You’ve had the same effect on me.’
Circe smiled and I knew then that I would fuck her. I took a gulp of the toddy and then pulled her toward me. I kissed her. Her mouth was soft and luscious. She pushed me away and giggled. She pressed a forefinger against the tip of my nose.
‘Your wife tells me you’ve been a naughty boy.’
I was surprised that Helen had discussed my affair. I finished the toddy to give me time to think of an appropriate response. I decided boldness was the best course of action.
‘What can I say?’ I said as I felt the flush of the toddy infuse me with warmth and a mellow confidence. Circe pushed me up against the wall and began to pull at my tee shirt. I took it off and she began caressing my chest and belly, then began to unbuckle my belt.
‘Lets take it all off,’ she said.
I responded and tried to unbutton her shirt but she pushed me away.
‘Let me take control,’ she said, ‘I like taking control.’
I didn’t argue, there would be time for different games later. She could do what she liked with me now. She knelt down and removed my shoes and socks then pulled down my trousers. She looked up at me and licked her lips.
‘How do you feel?’ She purred.
‘Fit to burst,’ I replied, my speech surprisingly slurred. The alcoholic toddy was having an effect. She put her hands on the waistband of my pants and slowly pulled them down, forcing my erect cock down until she cleared the tip and it jumped back up erect, ready and willing. She curled her fingers around it and kissed the tip. I groaned. She stood up and, still holding my cock,
began to play with me.
‘How do you feel now, big boy?’
The words that left my mouth were unintelligible. I was pissed. The toddy must have been full of alcohol. I was momentarily concerned that I would be unable to perform but my senses were alive, unusually so, and my cock was as hard as stone. I raised my arms to put them around Circe’s neck but they felt weak and arthritic and she took hold of them and pushed them away causing me to wobble. I couldn’t adjust my legs to steady myself, but instead swayed on feet that felt firmly fixed to the ground. I began to protest but now only a slow, low sound emitted from my mouth.
Circe threw back her head and laughed, a contemptuous, victorious laugh that sent a shiver through me. She took hold of my cock, which had lost some of its vigour and began to massage it. Surprisingly, my skin felt extra sensitive and the feel of her soft fingers caused my prick to stretch and bloat and throb with wonderful pulses of pleasure. I looked down but the movement of my head and neck were now very slow. I tried to speak again but no sound would come from my mouth. Still smiling, Circe took hold of my head and began to adjust it in the position she wanted. She did the same with my arms and torso, occasionally standing back to assess her handiwork. I tried to resist but by now my movements were so slow she simply readjusted me.
‘Don’t bother trying to resist, you’re almost set.’
I was utterly confused and frightened. I didn’t know what she meant but I had a horrible awareness that something terrible was happening. Finally, she took hold of my cock, adjusted it slightly, stood back and laughed.
‘That’ll do, you’re all set.’
I couldn’t move, not in the slightest, and yet I could feel, hear, smell and see, perfectly. My body was useless but my senses were heightened. I could see the whole room in front of me and my eyes fixed on the two statues opposite. I thought I could detect a pleading sadness in their eyes. I was left like this for hours until Circe returned with Helen.
Circe’s hand was now moving vigorously between Helen’s legs and Helen was trembling with pleasure. Then Circe removed her hand and took a step back. She undid the belt on her loose fitting gown and let it slip to the floor. The belt of her gown had been securing a dildo against her belly. As the gown slipped to the floor, the dildo was released. It fell away from her waist and swung out from the securing leather harness. Circe turned to me and smiled. Her breasts were magnificent. Tattooed around each nipple was a swastika, the ancient symbol of good fortune. A beautiful tattoo of entwined snakes covered her belly, celtic symbols adorned her arms. She held the dildo in her hand and waved it, provocatively, in front of me and laughed. She told Helen to climb on to the chaise longue and raise her bottom in the air. Helen willingly obeyed. Circe mounted her, easing the dildo between Helen’s legs. Her hips gently swung back and forth, and as Helen took more and more of the dildo, the movement of Circe’s hips became more pronounced, more forceful. I could smell the sexual excitement as Circe, now gripping Helens hips, thrust into her. Helen responded with guttural, primitive cries, sounds I hadn’t thought her capable of making. Helen’s face was pressed sideways into the chaise longue, her eyes fixed on mine. Circe too was looking at me, triumphantly smiling as she fucked my wife. I was filled with lust, passion and rage.
When Circe judged that Helen was suitably sated she stopped. They dressed whilst intermittently kissing and hugging each other. They chatted as though I wasn’t there. When they’d finished dressing Helen came over to me and looked into my eyes.
‘Can you change him back?’
‘No, that art was lost a long time ago.’
‘Are you coming to the party?’
‘Yes, I’ll be along later.’
They left the room. I heard the front door open and shut and then Circe returned.
‘Well, gentleman,’ she said, addressing the stone voyeurs, ‘I hope you enjoyed the show.’ She turned to me. ‘Especially you.’ She walked up to me. There was a cold look in her eyes.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘I must get ready for a party. Can’t have Halloween without a witch can we?’
She laughed and touched my nose with her forefinger. ‘Trick or Treat?’
I felt my eyes well up but no tears would come.