I was not nude because we were sharing loving feelings or a laugh or both. I was nude because I had lost a bet to him and was required to be unclothed... Patrick, intentionally or not, seemed less my husband than an objective, voyeuristic observer, coolly evaluating my body. He seemed to be in the act of judging how pleasant he found the shape and size of my breasts, how agreeable to his eyes was the swell of my hips, how delightful he perceived the cheeks of my ass to be, how engaging he found. He kicked off his jeans and pants, went into the bedside drawer and pulled out a condom and some lube. My heart was racing but I so wanted this. I watched as he tore open the condom packet and rolled it on to his cock, I reached forward stroked his cock while he was doing it. He handed me the lube and I squeezed some in to my hand and stroked his cock. A lifted my skirt, put my lubed fingers into my knickers and made sure my pussy was well lubricated. I could hear him breathing heavy (and I. More

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