Irene and Oscar Part 1 - Sex Stories

Irene and Oscar Part 1

Irene and Oscar were an ordinary couple, Spanish, and living a good life together in the beautiful city of Barcelona. They had been together since they were both twenty five, roughly fifteen years. Oscar was Irene’s only sexual partner, so she had nothing to compare him with in terms of his skills or equipment, but she loved him and had no interest in doing anything with another man. Oscar, on the other hand, had had a lot of sexual partners, and he knew for certain, that with a cock only four-and-a-half inches long when erect, he was well below average, and he had a bit of a complex about his shortcoming, believing that he couldn’t be completely satisfying Irene, even though she always insisted that he was the only man for her, and quite big enough. Like most married couples, their sex life had become mundane, and like most men, Oscar used fantasies to spark up his love life, but, although he mentioned them to Irene, she insisted she wasn’t interested in exploring any kinky fantasies. Oscar’s main fantasy was that his wife would have sex with another man, or men, and realise that she had been missing out with her husband. At first, this fantasy was just secret, and under Oscar’s control, but, as time went on, he realised he was becoming increasingly obsessed with it, longing for his wife to at least try another man, but she just wouldn’t consider it. After months of little suggestions, made during their lovemaking, Irene agreed to just talk about her having sex with other ...

... men. She insisted that she would never actually do it she would humour Oscar by pretending that she was considering it. With that small point won, Oscar decided to approach the subject from a different angle. “Irene my love, can I talk to you?” he asked one evening while they were lying together in bed, waiting for sleep to overtake them. “Yes, of course, what is it?” she replied, a little concerned. “I’ve been reading stories about women being harassed all the time, hit on, groped and so on. Apparently there’s an American website where women recount their experiences, and name and shame the men. I realised that I had never thought about the fact that you might be hit on, groped, flirted with, but wouldn’t want to tell me about it because you were embarrassed. So, have you?” Oscar asked, crossing his fingers under the covers and hoping for a hit. “Well, sort of...I suppose,” she replied, hesitantly. “There, I knew it. I was right to be worried. Please tell me about it, don’t be shy. I won’t be upset. I just want you to share all of your experiences with me, be they good or bad.” “Well, you know, sometimes I get groped a bit if it’s a crowded bar, or in a very busy shop,” Irene admitted hesitantly. “You mean when I’m with you?” Oscar asked, thrilled with the direction this conversation was taking. “Sometimes when you’re with me, and sometimes when you aren’t, like when I have lunch with my work colleagues.” “So this happens quite often?” Oscar pushed further. “No, not often, and ...