The Surprise

 This is the story of the day I gave my ex-wife to another woman, a memory that burns bright from the strange twilight of my marriage, the period after Wendy had become my secret and before Christie became my ex. I remember it all with clarity, every detail etched into my mind as the moment I pushed us all over a line we could never cross back. It was the best idea I ever had, all unfolding in the span of a single morning.

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I had planned this morning for weeks. My ex-wife Christie had absolutely no idea what awaited her. She rose from our bed, slipping into her usual routine, completely oblivious that today would shatter her expectations of a normal Tuesday.

I showered quickly, the hot water doing little to quell the anticipation in my gut. Dressed in simple clothes, I entered the kitchen to find her at the stove, her attention focused on making breakfast for the kids. "Hey," I said, keeping my voice casual. "I'm heading into the office late today. Why don't I take the little one to school?"

She turned, a smile lighting up her face. "That would be wonderful, honey."

The morning routine proceeded as normal. I ate while she corralled the kids, a perfect cover for my intentions. After finishing my plate, I slipped back into our bedroom. From the bottom drawer of my nightstand, I retrieved our special supplies: the white hospital restraints and Christie's sleek, black remote-control vibrator. I placed them in a plain bag, and then attached a small card with my message: "Put me on. Wait for me." I left the bag prominently displayed on the center of our bed.

Returning to the kitchen, I approached my ex-wife from behind, wrapping my arms around her waist and burying my face in the curve of her neck. She sighed, her body melting back against mine. I nipped at her earlobe, my voice dropping to a low murmur. "I left something for you on the bed. Go see what it is. I'll get our son ready and be right back."

A flicker of curiosity crossed her features, but she nodded and headed toward the bedroom. I quickly got our son dressed and sent him out to the van. When I returned to our room, the sight before me sent a jolt of pure satisfaction straight through me.

Christie had found the bag and followed my instructions to the letter. She sat on the edge of the bed, the soft hospital straps already secured around her wrists and ankles. Even better, when I parted her silk robe, I saw she'd put on the vibrator, its straps snug against her hips and disappearing between the sweet curves of her ass.

"What's all this?" she asked, though the glint in her eyes told me she already had a pretty good idea. She knew my mind, knew I loved playing my games even if she wasn’t as into the whole D/S and bondage lifestyle.

"I thought we'd spend the morning together," I replied, my voice smooth as velvet. "I figured I'd handle the school run, and while I was gone, I'd get your motor started. Now, take off the robe and lie down."

She obeyed without hesitation, her body a pale canvas against our dark sheets. I moved to the headboard, taking her right hand in mine. I kissed each finger slowly, deliberately, before securing the restraint to the solid wood post. I repeated the process with her left arm, making sure to leave just enough slack for her hands to reach her breasts—enough to tease her own nipples, but not nearly enough to free herself.

Then I moved to her legs, spreading them wide and securing each ankle to the footboard. She lay there, spread-eagled and completely at my mercy, a feast laid out for my sight. The sight was intoxicating. I leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep, possessive kiss. She arched up to meet me, her body already humming with need as my fingers traced a path down her taut stomach to the heat between her thighs.

She was already slick, her body betraying her excitement. "That feels so good," she moaned against my mouth, "but how am I supposed to get ready for you?"

I smiled a slow, knowing grin. Withdrawing my fingers, I reached into my pocket and pressed the button on the remote. The vibrator between her legs hummed to life, and my wife gasped, her back arching off the bed as the powerful vibrations shot through her.

"I don't want you getting lonely while I'm gone," I said, placing my laptop on the bedside table. I flipped it open, navigating to a specific video—a scene from a women's boarding school, filled with soft curves and whispered secrets. I figured watching other women pleasure each other would stoke the fires of her own imagination.

"Don't go anywhere," I whispered, taking one last look at her helpless form. Her eyes were already glued to the screen, her hips beginning to rock in a slow, sensual rhythm against the relentless buzzing between her legs. I left her there, a captive audience to both the film on the screen and the pleasure building within her own body.

The drive to school was a blur of my son's chatter, my mind completely consumed by the image of Christie - bound, buzzing, and building toward a fever pitch on our bed. I could practically feel the heat radiating from her skin, hear her frustrated whimpers as the vibrator kept her hovering on that delicious edge, unable to push herself over. I knew she'd be a writhing, desperate mess by the time I got back to her.

Pulling away from the school, my anticipation was a physical thing, a thrumming energy that made my hands grip the steering wheel a little tighter. When I turned onto our street, my plan came together as planned. Another car sat in our driveway.

I parked the van and stepped out, my heart giving a familiar lurch. There she was, Wendy, my mistress, leaning against the driver's side door of her sedan, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.  She had come back into my life recently and she was down for a visit to see me and some other friends.

"Perfect timing," I said, my voice low and excited.

"You're sure about this?" she asked, though her tone suggested she was already savoring the idea.

"Oh, I'm very sure," I confirmed. "Christie's always had a fantasy about being with another woman, but is too scared to try it. Today, we're going to make it a reality."

Wendy was the perfect partner for this. She was fearless, insatiable, and wickedly intuitive. We'd reconnected after years apart, and when I'd floated this scenario, her enthusiastic "yes" was immediate.

I led her inside, guiding her to the living room with a finger to my lips. I crept toward the bedroom doorway, the sounds spilling out confirming my success. The faint audio from the laptop was nearly drowned out by Christie's own symphony of pleasure—the persistent hum of the vibrator, her breathless moans, the soft creak of the bed as she strained against her bonds.

Reaching into my pocket, I hit the switch. The buzzing stopped instantly.

"Damn it!" The curse was sharp, frustrated, followed by the angry rattle of the restraints.

I waited a beat, letting the silence hang, before stepping into the room. "Problem, dear?"

"Oh, thank God it's you," she breathed, relief washing over her. "I thought the batteries died. I was going to lose my mind. I'm so worked up... I'm so glad you're back. I need your touch."

"Oh, you'll get it," I promised, my voice a low purr. I moved to the nightstand and picked up her silk sleep mask. "But first, a little enhancement. I don't want you distracted. I want you to feel... everything."

I secured the blindfold over her eyes, plunging her into darkness. Her breath hitched. With her sight gone, her other senses would be on high alert. Next, I unbuckled the straps of the vibrator. She understood immediately, lifting her hips to help me slide the wet, warm device away from her body.

I let my fingers drift down her torso, stopping to pinch a hard, sensitive nipple. A shudder wracked her frame. I could feel the fine sheen of sweat on her skin, taste the salt on her flesh. My plan had worked to perfection. She was a taut, quivering bundle of need. Her legs fell open wider, an unspoken, desperate invitation.

I slipped back to the doorway and beckoned to Wendy.

She moved with a predator's grace, her steps silent on the carpet. She entered the room and her eyes drank in the sight of Christie, naked and vulnerable, spread out for our pleasure. A slow, appreciative smile spread across Wendy's face as she climbed onto the foot of the bed.

Her touch was feather-light, starting on Christie's calves and slowly, methodically, working its way up. She massaged the tense muscles of Christie's thighs, her hands moving higher with each pass. Christie sighed, melting into the sensation, completely unaware who was touching her.

Finally, Wendy's fingers ghosted over Christie's slick, swollen folds. When she gently parted them, Christie let out a soft, broken moan, her head falling back against the pillows. Lost in the pleasure, it never occurred to her that the hands exploring her so expertly weren't mine.

Wendy glanced up at me, her eyes glittering with mischief and lust. She turned her attention back to her prize, slowly sinking first one, then two fingers into Christie's dripping heat. She pumped them a few times before withdrawing, bringing them to her own lips. Her eyes fluttered shut as she tasted my wife's arousal, a look of pure bliss on her face.

Apparently liking what she found, she didn't hesitate. She dipped her head and went in face first. I watched, transfixed, as Wendy's long, talented tongue began to flick and dance over Christie's clit. I knew from firsthand experience just how devastatingly skilled that mouth was. “God, she's good at that,” I thought, a surge of possessive pride mixed with raw arousal. “A woman really does know best.”

By now, Christie was lost in lust. Her body arched off the bed, a beautiful, desperate motion. Her breathing was ragged, her head thrown back as she pulled uselessly at the restraints. "Let me loose," she gasped, her voice strained. "Please... I want to feel you."

Wendy simply shook her head, a silent denial that made Christie cry out in frustration, pushing her even closer to the edge. I could see the orgasm building in her, the tell-tale tightening of her muscles, the frantic rhythm of her hips.

This was the moment.

I moved to the head of the bed, leaning down until my lips were just brushing her ear. As her body began to convulse, as the first wave of her climax crashed over her, I whispered, "Surprise, sweetie."

The shock hit her like a physical blow. Her entire body went rigid as the realization crashed over her: it wasn't me between her legs. I ripped the blindfold from her eyes, lifting her head just in time for her to see Wendy raise her face, a wicked, triumphant wink her only greeting.

The sensory overload was too much. The shock, the lingering pleasure, the sight of another woman between her thighs—it all collided at once. Christie's orgasm didn't just arrive; it detonated. Her eyes flew wide, wider than I'd ever seen, and a raw, primal scream tore from her throat. Her body convulsed a powerful, bucking wave that would have thrown us both across the room if the restraints hadn't held her fast. Her back arched as the climax ripped through every nerve ending, leaving her a gasping, spent wreck.

Minutes later, as the tremors subsided, I leaned in and kissed the nape of Wendy's neck. "Incredible," I murmured against her skin. Wendy, ever the dedicated artist, continued her gentle ministrations, her soft licks and light touches keeping Christie hovering in a state of blissful aftershock.

"I think it's time you thanked Wendy properly, don't you, dear?" I asked, my voice low.

Panting, Christie could barely form the words. "What... what do I do?"

A silent nod from Wendy was all it took. She climbed gracefully from Christie's body and began to undress. The reveal was mesmerizing. Wendy was all long, lean lines and firm muscle. Her breasts were high, small and perfect, her nipples already hard points in the cool air, her stomach a flat, tight plane. She stood before us, a naked goddess, before climbing back onto the bed.

"I've never... done this before," Christie whispered, a tremor of apprehension and excitement in her voice.

"That's okay," Wendy soothed her voice like honey. "Just do what feels right. I'll guide you." With that, she straddled Christie's face, lowering her hips slowly, deliberately.

I watched as Christie began to explore, her movements tentative at first. "No, dear," I coached gently, "use your tongue. More."

To her credit, Christie was a fast learner. Her technique grew bolder, more confident. Seeing she wasn't going anywhere, I methodically untied the restraints, freeing her limbs one by one. The moment her hands were loose, they roamed, sliding up Wendy's toned thighs, rising to cup and gently squeeze her supple breasts. Christie was no longer just a participant; she was an eager, engrossed student, completely lost in the art of pleasuring another woman.

Wendy cooed encouragement, rocking her hips against Christie's mouth. Soon, Christie's face was glistening with Wendy's arousal, a sight that made my cock throb with need.

"Why don't you return the favor, Wendy?" I suggested.

Wendy's smile was pure sin. She spun around without breaking contact, settling her body over Christie's in a perfect 69. The sight was pure erotica—two beautiful women, mouths and tongues buried in each other, their bodies writhing in a symphony of shared passion.

I couldn't be a spectator any longer. I had to join. I maneuvered them, turning them over until Christie was on top, her ass raised in the air. I could see her long fingers spreading Wendy's folds, her tongue working feverishly as her own moans were muffled by Wendy's flesh.

I shed my clothes in seconds, my cock springing free, harder than it had ever been. I moved onto the bed by Wendy's head, positioning myself behind Christie. Wendy knew exactly what to do. She looked up at me, her eyes dark with lust, and used her hands to part Christie's glistening lips, exposing her tight, wet entrance. Before guiding me in, she leaned forward and took my entire length into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the head, coating me in her saliva until I was slick and ready.

Then, I plunged into Christie. I sank into her in one smooth, deep stroke, my balls slapping against her skin as her pussy clenched around me, greedily pulling me in.

"Oh fuck!" Christie screamed, her head snapping up. "I can feel her tongue on my clit with you inside me! Pound me! I'm gonna cum again!"

I didn't need to be told twice. I gripped her hips, my fingers digging into her flesh, and I drove into her, a brutal, relentless rhythm. I looked down, seeing a fan of Wendy's dark hair spread out beneath us, and felt her hands reach up to cup and massage my balls as I thrust.

The sounds were incredible. Christie's cries, Wendy's muffled whimpers, the wet slap of skin on skin. I could feel both of them teetering on the edge. Wendy's body began to tremble uncontrollably, and just as her orgasm hit, she grabbed my ass, pulling me deeper into Christie. That was my trigger. Wendy spanked my ass hard, and I exploded, my cum flooding Christie's tight channel as I grabbed the back of her neck, holding our three bodies locked together in a single, pulsing mass of ecstasy.

Completely spent, I collapsed onto Christie, who in turn fell onto Wendy. She was the creamy, trembling center of our sexual sandwich, her skin slick with sweat and pressed against both of her partners. I could still feel Wendy's soft licks against Christie's pussy as the last of her own tremors subsided beneath us.

Oh yes, I thought with a grin. This was going to be a very, very fun day.......