The Wife Training Camp

The itching in my body kept getting worse. I swear, if it weren't for my pants, I would've already hit my peak.

But then a bell rang, sharp and clear. Class was over. Peter pulled himself away from me reluctantly.

He announced the end of class and said we would pick up again tomorrow.

I held it together through the itching and finally made it home.

Matthew took one look at my face, all needy and unsatisfied, and immediately started wondering if I had done something with the teacher.

I said no, obviously, and pulled him straight to bed.

All eager, I climbed on top of him and rolled my hips hard, grinding against him to scratch that itch.

Matthew had never seen me move like that. He didn't last long. He just laid there looking up at me, totally blissed out. At that point, he didn't care what I had or hadn't done with the instructor.

The next morning, Matthew left early for work. My body started itching again, but no one was around to take the edge off. I was losing my mind.

Finally, night came. Time for the training camp.

I made sure to wear a loose skirt with no underwear underneath. That way, it would be easy for Peter to just flip it up and go.

But what I didn't expect was that Peter had changed the lesson plan. No more getting on all fours and rolling those hips.

Instead, he switched things up. We had to lie on our backs, brace ourselves with our hands on the floor, spread our legs, and move our hips up and down.

Peter asked me to come up front and demonstrate to the class how to use the right muscles.

I wasn't wearing anything underneath. With all those eyes down there, everyone would see everything.

So, I hung back, not moving.

Peter looked confused and asked if I was still sore from yesterday.

I shook my head. No way I was telling him I was going commando.

Peter kept pushing me. "Christine, the class won't work without you. Just practice with me, and I'll waive your tuition."

That got my attention.

The tuition wasn't cheap. It was three months of Matthew's paycheck.

So I walked up to the front, heart pounding, sat down on the yoga mat, and squeezed my legs shut as tightly as I could.

Peter said to the class, "Pay close attention to what comes next. Watch and learn."

Then he pressed his hands against my knees and pushed them apart.

The whole place erupted.

People craned their necks, trying to get a look.

Even Peter seemed caught off guard. He just stared down at me, his Adam's apple bobbing hard.

With all those eyes on me, I felt embarrassed, but beneath it, there was a faint, unexpected thrill.

I mumbled, "I was in a hurry today, so I forgot to put underwear on."

I was trying to cover up the shame of it all.

No one said much after that. They just sat there, quietly taking in the view.

Peter pushed my legs open wider. "Watch closely. I'm going to demonstrate."

He had me lean back on my hands and tilt my head up toward the ceiling. My legs spread wide under his grip, exposing everything. You could even see the deepest part of me.

The tension made me clench. Underneath, I could feel myself opening and closing, like it was breathing.

"Now move your whole hips. Up and down. Faster. Faster."

I moved like my life depended on it. The excitement climbed up my spine. The wanting inside me peaked.

Water splashed from me as I moved, spraying everywhere.

The men couldn't take it anymore. They stared between my legs and lunged right on top of their wives.

Peter's eyes went glassy. He couldn't help himself anymore and pulled down his pants. A massive length sprang out right in front of me, swaying and incredibly tempting.

He lay down underneath me, took aim with his tool, and lined it up against me.

"Everyone's excited today," he said. "I'll walk you through it live. Follow my lead."

Inside me, I was already drowning in desire. The moment I saw his size, I lost it.

I sucked in a breath, dropped my weight down, and sank onto him hard.