Oh my fucking god. You dirty bastard. That was my first reaction when I read the story my husband Mike had written, after it spewed out of the printer. I knew what he'd probably done, accidentally clicked the print button instead of save without realising. I’d done it myself a few times, nothing happens if the printer is switched off. As soon as I switched it on, it printed the waiting document. From the content I can only assume I wasn't intended to see it. I read the story all the way through to the end, every detail of what he wanted to see me doing and having done to me. And it was about me. I had no doubt, my name for a start, description right down to the beauty spot near my mouth, the size of my tits, hair colour. The clothes I was wearing were familiar, one of the sexy outfits I sometimes dress up in for sex, strictly only for in the house. The only difference was, in his story my pussy was shaved and my clitoris pierced. I got to the end and it was clear there must be more stories. I knew the rest must be on the laptop and had to read them. I opened the program. I clicked file and recent documents in the menu. Top of the list a document “Untitled 1.odt” I didn't recognise it, clicked on it. The “Enter Password” box opened. This had to be what I was looking for. Mike had gone to the pub so I had another two or three hours. He's a creature of habit, and like lots of people only uses a few passwords. I knew most of them, hoping he hadn't decided to be to careful I entered one. Incorrect. I tried two more and failed to gain access. The fourth one it opened and I was in. It was the story I'd read. Back to the Documents library, two more untitled documents, dated over the last few weeks. Same password, I opened them, reading the first few lines to confirm they were what I was looking for. Rather than read them off the screen I ran off copies, shut every thing down, stapled the pages in the correct order and took them up to our bedroom to read. I read the first, put it to one side, read the second and reread the original one. The theme to all the stories was me being fucked, seemingly by strangers because they were never named. Starting off with me being fucked by two guys in the first, the stories became more lurid and explicit as he introduced more guys into the story. Most of the action seemed to take place outdoors, though in one story I was picked up in a hotel bar and went with a guy to his room for sex. In the third story, I was being fucked by four men. It was a bit of a shock finding out how he'd like me to behave and the sort of things he imagined me doing, but after reading it, my panties were decidedly wet and sticky. At least one of the stories wasn't too different from one of my own fantasies. One which I imagine when I have the house to myself and I can spend an hour or two masturbating and pleasuring myself. I looked at the bedside clock, still only 9pm, Mike was never back before 10pm on a Friday night. I quickly undressed and stood naked, looking at myself in the mirror. I'm 36 years of age, my tits are 32d, still round and reasonably firm, the washboard flat belly of my twenties has been replace by a more rounded womanly shape. I turned looking over my shoulder at the reflection. My bum is trim, still taut and pert and my legs quite nice, but maybe to muscular from regular jogging for some tastes. Perhaps not quite as good as Mikes flattering word description, but not bad I decided. I faced the mirror again, my eyes were drawn to my pussy and the covering of light brown pubes. Not a thick bush, trimmed to keep things tidy, but he'd obviously prefer me to be shaved and smooth. I wasn't going to to anything about anything just yet I decided, picking up the manuscript from the bedside table and lying on the bed. I started from the beginning again, imagining I was doing the things described, touching my breasts, squeezing my nipples, my hand inexorably moving down my body towards my pussy. I got to the part of the first story, where I'm about to be fucked. My fingers brushed through my pubes, finding my clitoris, gently stroking it, detecting the little bud becoming engorged as I read. In the story the guy spreads my legs, so that’s what I did. My fingers touching my sex and slip into my hole. I put the story down and and begin to masturbate, both hands, one frigging my clitoris, the other fingering my hole enthusiastically, pretending I was being fucked, until I brought myself to climax. I lay thinking about what I'd read. I wondered if it was just his fantasy or if it was something he really wanted me to do. I thought back over the previous few months, recalling some of the things he'd said, usually during sex. Hints I suppose, but too subtle for me to realise what he meant at the time. One comment during a night out when we'd both had quite a lot to drink. I only had a vague recollection but recalled he had suggested I invite a guy I'd been dancing with, home with us for a threesome. I'd rejected it as a drunken fantasy. Now in context I had no doubt that he actually wanted to watch me being fucked by other men. We were, I think quite sexually adventurous already, different positions, oral sex which I enjoyed both giving and receiving, willingly let him cum in my mouth, once I discovered I liked the taste of spunk. We'd tried anal sex and found it not our thing. Fucking outdoors now and again in a forest or deserted beach on holiday. They were things that just happened naturally. I don't think we ever talked about sex as such and couldn't imagine how you'd ask your partner if they minded having sex with another person so you could watch. I decided to say nothing to him about it. I had access to his stories, I could continue reading them, interested to see what he had planned for me next. Although initially I'd been shocked, I have to confess I found the idea of actually doing some of the things he'd imagined me doing highly exhilarating. It crossed my mind he'd deliberately left the story for me to find, hoping I'd mention it. I still couldn't decide what to do, shaving my pussy would be a start, but I thought that would be to obvious and I wanted it to be his idea to suggest it, then maybe he might suggest other things. I heard him arrive home, folded the sheets of paper and hid them in the bottom of my lingerie drawer. By he time he came upstairs I was about to get in the shower. Even though I'd not long finished masturbating and had cum I was still feeling horny and asked him if he wanted to join me. Not unusual, we'd had a large corner shower installed so we could shower together. By the time we'd finished soaping and washing each other I was more than ready to be fucked. I thought about what he'd written as he fucked me, closed my eyes, imagining I was being had by a complete stranger. I came twice before he did which was unusual. He gave no indication that the story had been left for me to find. I fell asleep, wondering what was the best way forward. Whether to just ignore it, difficult knowing what I did, or to act and turn his fantasy, a fantasy which I found exciting and arousing, into reality. By the morning I'd decided I couldn't ignore it. The thought of being fucked by strangers even more attractive than it had been the previous evening. However, it was important to me, at least at that time, that Mike made the first move. I needed to find a way of nudging him in the right direction.