My wife and I have an agreement: When she acts on her prerogative, I get to act out one of my fantasies. But she must always be one up on me.
Men never know what women want. Here I have supplied a wonderful life for my wife, great financial and emotional support, a wonderful father and spouse, tender sex, romantic sex, wild sex, kinky sex, screaming sex, and she tells me how wonderful her life is with me. But every now and then, her wild side comes out bursting out of the wife role with so much intensity.
We have had several of her fantasies played out, and I am always surprised at the creativity and downright sluttiness that comes from my conservative dressing, PTA- active, fine upstanding wife. Last month she looked at me with a twinkle in her eye, sultriness in her voice.
She said “We are going to a party Friday. Dress in dark clothes.”
I got a little aroused, which is strange, because I had no idea what she had in mind.
Friday came around, and I dressed in a black pants and a tight pullover dark blue shirt. She wore a simple black dress that was short, running half way up her thigh, and hugged the curves of her hips. The top part of the dress was a simple neck with wide shoulder straps, nothing revealing, but like any man I closely evaluated whether or not I would be able to see her bra or breasts if she leaned over. I had seen her breasts many times and knew them very well, but I still longed for any peak I could get. Her long straight black hair covered her shoulders and occasional caressed her nipples as she moved her head to the side.
We got in the car and she told me we were going to an artists show at a mansion. The owner of the mansion was an art supporter. She said she knew a few people attending. She made it very clear to me that after we entered the art show, and met the hosts, that we would mingle. She also told me to not let her out of my sight. It was her prerogative, and her rules. That’s our agreement.
We arrived at the mansion. It was large, in a nice neighborhood, but not pretentious. The interior surprisingly had basic furnishings, obviously so as not to detract from the artwork. We were greeted at the door, and our coats were taken by one of the hosts.
I started to separate from her to mingle per her instructions, but was stopped as she grabbed my arm
“I left something in my coat pocket,” she said. Can you come with me?”
We were shown the room where the coats were hung. The room was bigger than our master bedroom, and the closet had sliding glass doors. My wife looked around, smiled, and reached into the pocket of her jacket hanging in the closet, but she did not pulled anything out.
“I must have left it at home. Let’s mingle,” she said.
I mingled and tried to sound intelligent, but I am sure I didn’t. Not only was I ignorant about the artist, but I was distracted with what my wife had up her sleeve, or in this case, up her skirt. I kept an eye on my wife, per her request. She knew whatever she did, I would enjoy watching it…
She went from group to group, talking to men, looking at times like a teenager flirting with the football team, and other times like the lead female of a newer James Bond movie. Now and then, she glanced at me with a smile and a wink.
Like me, most of the men at the art show were no longer thinking about the art. Instead, they wondered if my wife was wearing a bra, when she would lean down to show them, what color were her panties, if she were attached, and if so, would she let them under her skirt anyway.
Some of the women were wondering the same things. They also wondered, if their lover takes them tonight because they were so turned on by my wife and how would they look in that black dress.
My wife continued to flirt and tease. She carefully made sure to rub her breasts against one or more of the guys as she moved from artwork to artwork. I would see her surrounded by three men, the center of attention, and all the men joking or talking about the artist. I knew they were really thinking about how they could get under my wife’s skirt.
I saw her lead two mean to some chairs. The men sat on one side of a hors d’oeurves laden table, and she sat on the other. I faced her from a distance in my own conversation group.
Her skirt was short enough that the men lingered their glances to her crotch.
“Darn, too many shadows,” we all thought as we strained a look.
She leaned over to grab the smallest hors d’oeurves knowing that as she leaned forward her bra and cleavage would be revealed to these two men.
The two men took their attention away from her crotch and both enjoyed the view of her breasts through her black-laced bra. I too could see. I found myself lusting after her like the other two men even though I have had her so many times, in so many ways.
She excused herself from the conversation, told the two men to stay there, and indicated to me with a simple look for me to also stay where I was.
Returning and as if seeing the hors d’oeurves for the first time, said “Ooh, what’s this?”
She leaned over picked up a tasty bite. Of course her interest was not in the food, but in flashing these two men. The men found she had excused herself to remove her bra. Every time she leaned forward, her firm smallish breasts and perfectly brown perky nipples said “Come lick me, I am so much better than these hors d’oeurves.”
The two men squirmed slightly, and I grinned. I looked around the room and found that most of the men were also looking at my wife. The art was no longer the show. I suspect if there weren’t so many men with their backs to my wife, all of the men would have been staring at her breasts. One man even took out his glasses in anticipation if the next flashing, even though he covered up his intent by looking at a few paintings in more detail.
Panties. “Did she remove her panties?” was the chorus of thoughts from the people in the room, both men and women.
She sat down, hiking up her dress, and revealed to only the men directly in front of her that she had nothing underneath. More squirming from the two men, and more grinning from me.
I could not here most of her conversation, and I was of course trying to keep some semblance of conversation with those around me.
At one point I did hear her say “What’s next?”.
A few moments later said came up to me and said, “Honey, can you go get our coats? It is time to leave.”
“So soon?” I thought, “You mean you are going to leave these two poor guys hanging?” Maybe hanging was the wrong word for these two guys. I went upstairs to get the coats.
As I gathered them up I heard my wife come up the stairs and down the hallway, saying loudly “I think the coats are in here. Can you follow my voice?”
I looked up and my wife walked in the room, turned off the light and said “Sssshhhhh” to me.
She walked over to the closet, opened the sliding glass doors, spread her legs slightly, and pulled up her skirt showing about half her ass. She stood there gently rotating her ass lit only by the soft light from outside the room. I wanted to take her, but I knew it was not my time.
I stood back crouching low behind the bed. The two men came in the room saw my wife. Lured by the vision of her rotating ass, they both approached her. One grabbed her ass, and started caressing the cheeks, running is finger gently up her crack, crouching down to kiss her. The other went in front of her, in the closet surrounded by the hanging coats. She kissed her lips and neck, caressed her tummy, and squeezed her breasts through her dress.
With tongues flicking, I could hear tiny moans and the sound of lips touching and leaving bare skin. They pulled her dress up, exposing all but her shoulders.
They each took turns kissing different parts of her. At one point my wife pulled their heads to her breasts as each kissed and sucked one of her breasts. I could only see my wife’s back and ass arching as her breasts were sucked.
I could see from different angles with the great fortune of several mirrors in the room.
Her moans became louder and her movement more intense. She still held the two heads to her breasts enjoying the sensations of both being sucked at the same time. She moved her hips as if she was swirling around someone’s tongue.
She grabbed of the men shoved him back into the closet of coats. She bent over, and with a zip, moved her mouth up and down his shaft. He was engulfed in the coats of all the men and women who watched the seduction downstairs.
I love the sound of wetness, whether it is a dick in a mouth, or the tongue stroking of a wet pussy. Soon I heard both. My wife had a mouthful, and bent over, took a tongue on the pussy from behind. Up and down he licked, including her ass that was swollen from arousal. She pressed harder and harder into his mouth, as his tongue went deeper into her. She pressed her ass into his face, and her face down onto the other man’s shaft.
He thrust his tongue into her pussy as deeply as he could. Both he and she wanted deeper. He stood slipped his dick into her, at first only as deep as his tongue went. She moaned, muffled by the dick in her mouth. She pushed back harder on him and felt him deep inside of her. She pushed her head down on the shaft in her mouth. She timed her movements to feel full in her mouth and pussy at the same time.
She thrust down with her head, and back with her ass. Her moans became higher pitched and her legs tensed up. She could no longer keep her rhythm, but the two men continued to thrust into her grabbing her hips, the other her head, keeping her still as they thrust into her with the same rhythms.
I saw my wife’s legs begin to press harder into the floor as the man from behind steadied her ass in the air so he could continue pounding into her, his hips slapping into her ass cheeks. I heard the familiar squeals as my wife was being taken to the edge of cumming, although I rarely heard it muffled in such a way.
She squealed with each thrust, again, and again, until she arched her back, and with a jerking thrust of her hips let out a final squeal of cumming. Her legs buckled as she was held up from the man fucking her from behind.
Still moaning, she quickly moved her head up and down on the shaft in front of her as if her mouth was being pounded like her pussy. While she pumped, another moan from the man in her mouth and a slurp let me know she had satisfied one.
She then pulled forward, pulled the dick out of her pussy. It was soaking wet from her juices. As if gasping for air, she quietly whispered “I need all three holes satisfied tonight.”
She guided the soaking dick slowly into her ass. She moaned as she backed into the cock.
She moaned at first to help get used to the fullness in her ass. But these changed to pleasure as she relaxed into, then indulged in the fullness. She opened herself up, taking his cock deep in her ass. The man in front who had just filled her mouth with cum got below her, and slipped his finger across her dripping pussy, sometimes slipping inside her. She enjoyed the fullness of both her holes.
He moaned and thrust deeply in her. She could feel the contractions of his dick in her ass, as the warm juices filled her up. She pressed against him, and rocked her hips so her pussy slipped quickly across the fingers of the other man. This was enough to send her over the edge again, cumming as fingers slipped deeply in her.
Her grinding slowed down. She stood up and with some irregularity in her breathing calmly said, “Here’s my coat. I found it. I have to go no. Thanks guys.”
The two men pulled up their pants, realized this would probably never happen again and walked out trying to figure out how it happened in the first place. With only my wife and me in the room, she said, “Let’s go honey.” I stood up, had a little trouble walking with an erection, but left the party holding the coats in front of me.
The drive home was silent. But we both had smiles on our faces. I wondered how the PTA parents, her neighbors, and her coworkers, would respond if she told them the truth to answer their question of “So what did you do this weekend?”
My wife leaned over as I was driving, unzipped me, and sucked me. I have been ready to explode for most of the evening. It did not take long for me to drench her mouth with my cum as I steadied the wheel. We pulled up in our driveway.
She gave me tongue thrusting kiss, and in her sultry voice that started the evening asked “OK, now it is your turn, what do you want?”
“Next Saturday,” I responded. “Call your friend, Sarah. Wear your business suits.”