“Would you like me to give you a pump?”I gave my tyre a squeeze. “No, thanks. It’s already hard.”“Not quite what I had in mind, but OK, su...it yourself. I’m Tufty. How are you, big boy?”I told her how well I was and asked after her healthwise.When we’d finished discussing how well we both was, I eyed her upwards and downwards. Tufty had a tan top on. When I say ‘tan top’ I refer to her t-shirt not her skin. The top she wore was a tan colour. That is not to say she was not tanned; in fact she had. It was late, around 23:30 and dark, the guy was still giving the bullshite but I found myself fantasising about watching a stranger that I didn’t even like fuck my wife. At every opportunity I found myself complimenting my wife in front of him, when she left the table I would turn the subject to her, I even asked her to take a turn going to the bar so I could talk about her, then he finally paid her a compliment himself, saying she looked very pretty in her short dress. It was at that point. I explained that NATO used light blue for training devices and American police used red—in the bad old days police would take "inoperative" revolvers and spray paint them red to denote that they were training dummies. Some training devices were black plastic for tactical training—but the red or blue ones were 'safe.'Make that 'safer.' If misused, I could kill with them. The point was blunt but I could generate enough force to penetrate a throat or eye socket or temple or the point just under. He said, “Marsha, a few weeks ago when I got home late from work I found you asleep naked on top of the bed, your legs open and a puddle of cum between them, with his seed still spilling out.” He went on to say there is no denying what I saw or what it was. He said at first it confirmed what he already suspected. But something happened in him, seeing my puffy lips, leaking another man’s cum, he admitted it turned him on. He went on to say he was so turned that he dropped his pants and jerked.