21 comments/ 151626 views/ 20 favorites My Husband Let Me Date By: DeliaGreen Angie: I don't know why I'm so anxious about tonight. It's not like I haven't slept with other men since I've been married. Maybe it's because the man I'm dating tonight is such a hunk and I can't wait for him to get into my pants. Or maybe it's because my husband Kevin helped arrange this date and plans to be here when this guy comes over to fuck me. I barely know Carl. He's been here twice, for dinner ostensibly. I didn't understand why Kevin invited him, at first. You see, this whole thing is Kevin's idea, believe it or not. He sprung it on me right after our first meeting with Carl. "What do you think about him … as a date?" "What do you mean?" "You know, as a date. Do you think he's good in bed?" "I don't know. Why?" I have to admit, Carl is easily one of the brawniest men I've ever met. An older guy, but in excellent physical shape. He's got a rugged but nice looking face. Nice hair—a little gray around the temples, but healthy and plentiful on top. Kevin's questions about what kind of a date I thought Carl would make really confused me. "If you weren't married, would you date him?" Kevin asked me. "Maybe. Why?" Well, like I said, he asked because he had this wild idea, a fantasy he called it. He said he knew how much I liked sex and he also knew that since we had patched things up about our marriage there was not going to be any more cheating. (That was the only way our marriage would work, we both agreed. Total honesty from now on.) Part of our honesty truce, he said, was to admit that he sometimes fantasized about in bed with another man. So, it turns out that when he was talking about Carl as a possible date, he was talking about Carl as a possible date for me. "This is a fantasy, right?" I asked him. "Well, yes. It has been a fantasy. But, it could be more than that, if you wanted it to." And that's how tonight came to be. Carl's coming here to see me—to have some fun. With Kevin's blessing. Oh, and did I mention that not only does my husband want me to get laid tonight; he also wants to see me get laid? What's that all about? He claims it'll be fun for him to watch. I'll be damned if I want to watch him screw another woman. Hell, I don't even want to know about it, if it happens. But if Kevin's OK with me fucking another guy, especially one as good looking as Carl Bargsdale, well, who am I to deny him his fun? Of course, I'm also not sure how Carl's going to react to Kevin being here. I was surprised that Kevin didn't tell him. Carl could change his mind when he finds out that his invitation to have sex with me has a rather kinky string attached. "Why didn't you tell him that you wanted to watch?" I asked. "I don't know. I guess I thought he'd chicken out it if he knew," Kevin said. "When do you plan to tell him?" "When he gets here, I guess." Besides the unknown of Carl's reaction, there's the unknown of my reaction. Let's face it, during the days when I was cheating on my husband part of the excitement was in the misbehaving--you know, the cookie jar thing: it's more fun getting into that jar high up on the shelf when you've been told to "keep out" than it is being handed the jar and given an open invitation to help yourself. And then, it has crossed my mind that this whole date thing might be a test. Maybe Kevin's hoping I'll back out at the last minute. All I can say about that is if that's what he's looking for, he should have hooked me up with some fat, ugly-assed pig, not a stud like Carl. Kevin's downstairs now. I half expected him to pop in to watch me get dressed. He's been asking me what I plan to wear, which bra, which panties, which dress, which lipstick, how am I going to wear my hair, everything. Well, in a minute, he'll get to see what I've done with my hair (pinned it up). I think he'll like the way this pastel blue blouse fits me—it's almost too small—and this navy blue skirt—it's short and fits me close. And, if things go right, he'll get to see my choice of underwear tonight: a lacy little maroon bra and panties set. The panties are not much more than a thong, and the bra is cut so low, it nearly shows my nipples. Sometimes I buy exotic underwear, but generally nothing this naughty. This, and a couple of other pieces of lingerie in my drawer, was a gift from a guy I dated a couple of times [see Party Girl]. I never had the heart to tell Kevin about the gifts. He likes them on me and I like the way I look in them, so it seemed silly to throw them away. Kevin: I never dreamed that I'd ever give my wife permission to date another man. I once asked her to have dinner with an important client who was in town on business, just to chat with him, show him some of the city, that's all. I wouldn't call that a date. Of course, it was a mistake. Angie's too attractive. What could I have been thinking? She showed him some of the city. And he showed her his hotel room. I don't know if he got her liquored up first, or what, but she didn't exactly holler ‘rape.' In fact, after that, he invited her to fly to the West Coast to attend a big party his company was throwing. She couldn't jump on that plane quick enough. I knew what was going on. I'm not an idiot. But I'm also not a screamer. I'm more the get-even type. So, while Angie was out in San Diego having herself a good ol' time, I jumped the bones of a cute young thing with the prettiest knockers you'd ever want to see. But that's all behind us now. Somehow our marriage survived all that. We've made a truce—no more cheating, for either of us. As for this new thing, well, I'd heard about married couples whose bedroom doors are open to …others, but I never thought that I might one day be one of those husbands who opened the door to let someone get in bed with his wife. At our company's annual holiday party this year, Warren Albright, an outside sales rep I know, cornered me over a couple of drinks and began extolling the merits of an arrangement he and his wife had. He said he lets his wife fuck other men, as long as he can be present. "I don't believe you," I said. He assured me it was true. "She's an over-sexed person, by nature," he explained. "So, this way, she doesn't have to cheat … and I get the show of a life time." "You mean if I fucked your wife, you wouldn't care?" "Well, it's not like that," he explained. "First of all, she's not a whore. It's not like you get to fuck her just because you want to. Only she decides who she shares her bed with." "OK, let me rephrase the question. If your wife wants to fuck me, you don't care?" "It's not that I don't care, Kevin. I do care. In fact, one of the primary reasons I let her fuck other men is because it's such a turn-on." "A turn-on for who? For her or for you?" "Well, hopefully for her too, but definitely for me. I love watching her fuck a guy!" "You watch her fuck other men?" "That's right. I let her fuck other men as long as I can watch." "That's sick!" "Call it what you want, but don't knock it if you haven't tried it. Unless you've experienced it, you have no idea how hot it can be to watch your wife give herself to another man—right in front of you." "It sounds crazy to me." "I know. That was my first reaction when a friend of mine told me what I'm telling you." "So what converted you?" "Seeing it." "Seeing your wife screw another man?" "Yeah." "Was she cheating on you?" "No. I saw how she looked at Martin, this guy we both knew, and I just came right out and asked her how much she liked him. And then I told her about my friend who likes to watch his wife with other men." "Did she think you were nuts?" Warren laughed. "That's exactly what she thought, so I never mentioned it again." "So what happened?" "I guess she really had the hots for this guy. A couple of months later she asked me if I was really serious about what I said. "I asked her if she was talking about Martin. ‘Do you want to fuck him?' "She told me she fantasized about it, but she was clearly worried about how I'd react to even knowing that she had that kind of feeling about one of our friends." "That was nice of her—to come right out and tell you like that," I said. "True. Anyway, I told her was absolutely serious, but there were two conditions. First of all, it had to be a one-time thing. She'd have to make that crystal clear to Martin. I didn't want any on-going boyfriend relationships. Secondly, I had to be present. " ‘Martin would never go along with you being there,' she assured me. "But he did go along with it, and that‘s how we got started. And, I'm telling you, it's un-fuckin-believable--watching your wife strip for a guy, showing off her body for his pleasure, worshiping his cock with her tongue and her mouth, and then taking his cock in her hand and guiding it between the lips of her cunt. Mmmmm. Just watching her enjoyment is such a rush. You know when you make love with your wife, you can't really see how much she's enjoying it--not like you can when you are seated across the room. From that vantage point, you see things, things you never saw before, like the way she tosses her head back in abandonment the moment a cock sinks deep inside her, or the way her whole body shifts and slides with every thrust of his cock. You get to see the way her legs look wrapped around a man's back, as she urges him deeper inside her. And best of all, she is so thrilled to be cherished for that moment, not only by her date but also by you for giving her the present of total freedom, that she can't thank you enough later on when it's just you and her in bed. At least, that's how it is with us." "How many different men have you seen her with?" "Oh, I don't know. I guess there's been six or seven since we started this thing about a year ago." I had my doubts about Warren and his unorthodox extramarital arrangement, but I couldn't help wonder how I would react to seeing Angie with another man. Would it have the same effect on me that Warren says it has on him? After mulling it over for a few days, I said what the hell; the worst that can happen is she tells me she thinks it's a nutty idea-- which she did. But the idea came up in conversation often enough that one night while we were making love, she pretended she was with another man. She called me by another name and even made cute little remarks about "her husband" being downstairs, and how he might hear us if we made too much noise. It was a turn-on, I have to tell ya. Afterwards, as we lay there in bed, she asked me how I liked her little game. "Was that fun, honey? Pretending I was fucking someone else?" she asked me, her head on my chest, her fingers toying with my spent cock. "It honestly was," I told her. "And if it really was someone else? How would you feel?" "I think it might even be hotter. But how can anyone know for sure?" "Think about it," she said, as she slid her hand down to the base of my cock and then gently cradled my balls. "Think about seeing me lying here with someone else, someone else's balls in my hand. He's kissing me, and sliding his tongue into my mouth, and I'm moaning and getting wet for him. Wet for his hard cock. Think about me spreading my legs for him, honey." She was deliberately testing me. Painting a picture for me, to see how I might react to the real thing. I could feel the blood starting to flow back into my cock. "Maybe he'll want me to lick him, and suck him. Can you see me with another man's dick in my mouth, Sweetheart?" I studied her lips and tried to picture them around a strange cock. She moistened them with the tip of her tongue. "Think about it, Honey." I was thinking about it, and my cock was thinking about it too. A brand new erection was unexpectedly arriving on the scene, a development that did not go unnoticed by my sexy wife. She began stroking me, slowly, up and down. "Hmmm, so, this is your reaction, huh? What could I say? There's nothing as honest as a penis, right? "He might want to do things to me, honey—before we fuck. He might ask me if I want him to lick my pussy. Think about that, Kevin. Think about me with my legs spread wide so that my date can stick his tongue inside me." Angie then lifted one leg in the air and held it there, exposing her partially-shaved pussy, as if to show me just where her date's mouth might be. "Think about him eating me, Honey. Getting me wetter and wetter." At that point I had an urge to devour the meal so deliciously spread before me, but I just lay there enjoying the expert hand job and the "dirty" show-and-tell. "And when he's got my pussy all hot and hungry for cock, Baby, I'm going to be lying here, begging him to fuck me. Are you going to be OK with that, Sweetheart?" My cock was literally throbbing. Angie's salacious story-telling was getting a standing ovation. "Are you going to be OK with the sight of some guy's huge cock pushing its way inside me, Honey?" She bent her airborne leg at the knee and lowered her foot to the bed, keeping her legs lewdly open for me. Her soft warm hand still sliding up and down me. "I'm going to be moaning, Honey, moaning for him to stick it in me, all the way in me. You're going to hear me telling another man to give it to me, telling him to fuck me!" With that, I scrambled quickly between her spread legs. "And then he's going to do this," I groaned, ramming my hard cock deep into her. "Oh yes! Fuck me, fuck me! Deeper! Harder! Fuck me! FUCK ME, BAB!" I stayed hard inside her wet pussy for the longest time, even though she tried to squeeze the cum right out of me. She seemed to have fun pretending that the cock inside her actually belonged to another man. And, I definitely enjoyed going along with the charade. We came together, hollering and laughing and sweating. But like I said, you can't really know for sure how you're going to react to the real thing. So, you either drop it or you jump in with both feet. I was ready, I thought, and I had essentially challenged my sex-loving wife to jump in with me. Knowing how much she loves sex, I was hoping she'd agree to try it. But, to be honest, there was a part of me that was hoping she'd say no. Angie: From my bedroom window, I see Carl pulling into our driveway. I watch him get out of his SUV. He's dressed casually, khaki trousers and a plaid sports shirt. I see him glance at Kevin's car and then start up the front walk, tall and confident. I holler down to Kevin. "Honey, Carl's here. I'll come down and let him in." Carl reaches for my hand when I meet him at the front door, looks me up and down and makes a muffled guttural sound like he's clearing his throat, but which I know, having been around a few horny men, means he likes what he sees. And then he kisses me. "Oh, my. Don't you look scrumptious?" he says, his eyes still taking me all in. "You look pretty hot yourself, sweetie," I tell him, taking the opportunity to check out the way his over-sized biceps and broad chest fill out his shirt. "Where's your husband? I noticed his car out front." "Oh, he's still here. I think he's running late or something," I fib, not sure just how to explain Kevin's presence. Carl seems a little bothered by the fact that Kevin's still home. I try to get him to relax. I take him downstairs to the family room, fix us some drinks, and then join him on the sofa. He has trouble keeping his eyes off my tits and my legs as we talk. Seated, my skirt seems even shorter, showing off even more of my stocking-covered thighs than when I was standing. My stockings are black, the kind that don't need a garter belt, they just cling to you, high up your thighs. Carl keeps looking down at my legs—like he wants to touch them. "Your husband is one lucky man, Angie." "Thank you, Carl. I feel lucky too." "What do you mean?" "How many men are confident enough about their relationship to let their wife … date … other men? I think I'm very lucky." "Yeah, I guess you are," he says, scooting closer to me and reaching his arm around my shoulders and planting a short kiss on my lips. As we talk, he keeps looking over at the stairway, like he's wondering when Kevin's going to show up. "Do you like to dance, Carl?" I ask, jumping to my feet. "I'm not much of a dancer, honey," he says apologetically. "Don't be silly. I don't really care if you can dance or not. It's just an excuse to get to know each other a little better," I tell him, turning on some music. "C'mon. Get up and come over here and dance with me." He protests meekly, but I pay that no mind and pull him by the hand. Soon, we're in the middle of the room, standing, our hands on each other's waist, taking in the music and each other's eyes. "You don't even have to move, Sweetie," I say, slowly moving my hips from side to side, my breasts brushing against him, ever so slightly, as I sway. "See, I told you I couldn't dance, he tells me with an embarrassed chuckle." "Oh, you're doing fine," I tell him. "See how I'm moving … from side to side? Why don't you try it?" "I'd rather just watch," he says, which gets a laugh out of me. "You silly, boy. C'mon, put your arms around me … yes, like that." Our bodies touch now, in lots of places. "Now just take some slow steps ... with me. Good … very nice, Carl." I like the way my titties feel pressed against Carl's hard body. He's definitely getting more comfortable with being alone with me, and I'm starting to believe that this date thing might actually work out. I'm especially encouraged when I feel Carl's hand slide down to my rear end … and stay there, as we dance. Carl's back is to the stairs, so he doesn't see my husband approaching. "Hi, Carl." Kevin's voice startles my dance partner. He starts to pull away from me, but I hold him tight. "Relax, guys. I just came down to tell you both that my card game was cancelled." Carl looks at me, but says nothing. "This shouldn't change anything, Carl. I've got stuff to do upstairs in my study, so I want you both to just act like I'm not even home. OK?" "OK, Honey," I say. Then, and as soon as Kevin turns to go upstairs I take Carl's face in both hands and turn his head toward me. "Carl, I hope you're OK with Kevin being upstairs. He's not going to bother us, besides … I was just starting to enjoy our little dance lesson." I don't wait for a reply. The music is still playing, so I just go right back to letting the music take control of my hips. Then, taking Carl's hand in mine, I return it to my ass, my gently swaying ass. "C'mon, Sweetie. Dance with me." Kevin: I only knew Carl indirectly, through a mutual friend. He's divorced and lives across town. He's a couple of years older than me, probably about 45, I'd guess, but he does some kind of home improvement work that keeps him in great shape. I knew Angie would love his body and his movie star good looks. If she was going to go along with this dating thing, he'd be a great first date, I thought. So I invited him over for dinner, just to get acquainted and break the ice. We all had a good time, and that night in bed Angie and I made love and talked about the possibility of her and Carl … doing it. Angie told me she still thought I was crazy, but admitted that Carl would probably be a lot of fun. The next day I called him and told him that Angie liked him. "That's nice. I like her too," he said. "She's a real fine woman." "Fine enough to fuck?" He was sure I was putting him on. He laughed and told me I shouldn't joke about that kind of thing. I told him I was serious. It took a lot of talking before I got him to even accept the possibility that the offer might be real. My Husband Let Me Date He finally agreed to see Angie, at home, but insisted that the date might be nothing more than some drinks and some pleasant conversation. I was cool with that, and so was Angie. I didn't bother to tell him that I'd be home too. So, when "date night" rolled around, Carl showed up right at eight. Angie greeted him at the door dressed for the occasion. She looked hot. She wore heels and black thigh high stockings, a very sexy, tight mini-skirt, and a tight blouse with a row of tiny little white buttons that rode the swell of her breasts and then receded down her flat belly and disappeared into the waistband of her skirt. Not a trashy look, just a very hot look, if you ask me. I think Angie's appearance dispelled any doubts Carl might have had about what was in store for him that night. Angie: The music is soft. The lights are low. Carl and I are standing in the middle of the family room. His arms are around me. We are swaying to the rhythm of the music. My tits are pressed warmly into his chest. Our thighs touch. "You are absolutely stunning," he whispers in my ear. "Thank you, Carl." "Your husband says …" He hesitates, unsure of whether to continue or what words to use. "Yes?" I reply, looking into his pretty blue eyes. "He says you … want to …" "Want to what? Want to fuck you? Is that what he said?" "Yes, or words to that effect." "So, what if I do? Do you want to fuck me?" "Oh, yesss!" he says. "Very much!" I study his eyes. They are alive with desire. He reminds me of a boy, even though he's probably at least 40. A teenage boy who is reluctant to take what is being offered for fear of making a mistake, for fear that he may have misinterpreted the invitation. "Kiss me, Carl," I say, quickly wetting my lips with my tongue. Suddenly, his lips descend on mine. I pull him tighter. My nipples are hard. I am eager to feel his strong body against me. Our mouths open enough to allow the tip of our tongues to touch and then … wider … to allow full entrance. Both of Carl's hands are on my ass, as our kissing intensifies, our tongues sliding around deliciously like oysters in a warm wine sauce. Temperatures rising fast. I can feel his hardness against me. It makes me shiver. He feels big. I grind my cunt into him. He squeezes my bottom, one cheek in each strong hand. I feel myself getting wet. "God, Carl, you feel so big!" I tell him, and then shamelessly slip my hand between us, down over the bulge in his pants. "I want you, Angie," he hisses, his mouth wandering from my lips to my neck. "I want you too, Sweetie!" I say, my hand massaging him, measuring him. We kiss again, and this time he's more aggressive, pushing my skirt up high enough for his hands to reach under it and find my ass. I reach around behind him and return the favor by squeezing his ass, my other hand still lewdly rubbing his wonderfully hard cock. Carl's lips drift down from neck … He puts his open mouth on one of my breasts and bites playfully through my blouse. "Oh, Baby," I moan, enjoying the pressure of his teeth digging into me. I take my hand off his cock and reach up and begin undoing the buttons on my blouse, wanting no barriers … between his mouth and my nipples. He keeps his hands on my rear, pulling my crotch tight against his, as I undo the last button. I pull the bottom of my blouse free from the waistband of my skirt and then take it completely off. Now he can see exactly what his mouth was pressed up against. My hard nipples are practically popping out of the top of my indecent little bra. Again his mouth is on me, kissing me and biting me. My bra is no match for Carl's mouth and tongue. Soon, my nipples are no longer covered up. He's got his lips on one of them. Sucking it. Nibbling on it. "Oh, Carl," I moan, when I feel his hand slide away from my ass and around to the front of my panties. "Oh, Sweetie, let's sit down," I whisper. Kevin: I left the two of them alone in the family room. Carl wasn't thrilled to find out that I was home, but I assured him that I would stay low and wished him a good time. It was about ten minutes later that I heard music down there. I figured Angie and he were probably dancing. I'm not a dancer, and I didn't take Carl for one either, so I was curious to see if he was really dancing with my wife. From the top of the stairs--even though there was only one lamp lit in the family room--I could see the two of them standing in the middle of the room. They were kissing and playing grab-ass with each other. I got an instant hard-on, seeing my wife with her hand on that guy's ass. I couldn't see his hands, but from the angle of his arms, he had to be feeling her up too. Within a few minutes, he had his face buried in Angie's blouse and I thought I could hear her moaning. I was mesmerized. The kissing and petting went on for a while, and then I watched Angie take her blouse off--that long row of buttons slowly yielding to her fingers, opening … and revealing her breasts, barely covered by that little purple bra of hers. I couldn't keep from touching myself as I watched the two of them. It was so hot. But it got even hotter when they moved to the sofa. Angie: On the sofa, we kiss some more. My earlier doubts are gone. I'm surprised how comfortable I am kissing this man I barely know--letting him put his hands on my ass on my tits--especially since Kevin is probably within earshot, if not eyesight. Our kisses are deep and passionate, like lovers' kisses. Our lips and our tongues becoming very intimate. We are both hotter than hell. I'm still wearing my bra, but my nipples are completely exposed now. I open his shirt and caress his bare chest. I want to feel my hard nipples against his hard chest. I reach behind my back and unhook my bra. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kevin at the top of the stairs. He's got his hand inside his pants. He can clearly see that I am topless now, but I don't know if he can see my hand in Carl's lap, or, for that matter, Carl's hand on my leg, working its way up my thigh, under my skirt. Oh, I love petting! We stop kissing, but our hands stay where they are. "You brought me a present, I see," I say, fondling his extremely hard erection. "I hope you like it," Carl says, immodestly. "I think I'm going to love it," I reply, as I unbuckle him and then unhook the waistband of his pants. My legs are only slightly parted. My tight skirt is partly responsible for that, but respectable girls always keep their legs together, I was always taught. Of course, if your husband is right there with you, it's probably OK to let your date push them apart, a little bit, especially if you want to feel his fingers brush across the front of your panties, or better yet, if you want to feel those fingers pull your panties to one side and touch your wet pussy. I guess it's OK then. And apparently Kevin thinks so too. He doesn't say anything when it happens. Carl slips a finger inside me. I moan loudly. I had no idea I was this wet. I unzip his pants and reach inside his briefs. His dick is unbelievably hard and long. I have to use both hands to free it. We kiss again, our fingers playing with each other's sex. I squirm and moan louder. It's hard to sit still when you're being finger-fucked, especially if the guy doing it is as good looking and as well-built as Carl. I guess holding onto his long hard cock at the same time might also have something to do with it. I slither out of my seat, dragging my tits down Carl's body as I move onto the floor. "Take your shirt off. I want to see your body," I tell him, loud enough for my husband to hear. I pull off his shoes and socks as I watch his rippling muscles come into plain view. Obligingly, he raises his bottom up to assist me in pulling down his pants, and then his boxers. "God, Carl, you're almost too big to suck," I tease, running one hand up and down his tall erection, and then I lick him, with slow, friendly, tantalizing strokes. "Almost," I repeat, wetting my lips with the tip of my tongue before lowering my mouth over the shiny fat head of his cock. He is a mouthful! I can barely wrap my lips around the head and neck of him. Carl moans appreciatively, as I suck him. I am sure Kevin must be playing with himself right now, watching what I'm doing. Now I have two cocks on my mind. One in my mouth and one that I'll have for dessert, after my date goes home. The whole thing is mind boggling. I'm not sure if this is really happening. Kevin: On the sofa, they kissed and petted for a few minutes and then Angie reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. It wasn't until after she took her bra off that the real petting began. I could see Angie's hand in Carl's lap. Whatever inhibitions Carl had earlier had evaporated into thin air. I watched him paw my wife's tits and then reach way up under her skirt. I couldn't tell, but I think he may have gotten a finger inside her, just judging from the way her body jerked while he was petting her …down there. A few minutes later, I almost came in my pants when Angie got down on the floor and started lewdly playing with Carl's big dick. She was licking it and looking up at him at the same time. And then, the next thing I know, it was in her mouth! That big cock in my wife's pretty little mouth. I almost came, just watching. Angie: Pleased at the way Carl's dick looks after it's been in my mouth—all wet and flushed and proud--I get to my feet and straighten my skirt. "Maybe I should get the rest of my clothes off too." "I like that idea," Carl says, his eyes bouncing up and down from my face to my bare chest, then back up to my face. My eyes are doing their own bouncing, from his face, down his exquisite torso to his over-sized cock, then back up to his eyes. "You like these?" I ask him, cupping my firm breasts in both hands. I've never behaved so trashy in all my life. I didn't know I had it in me "Oh, yeah," he says, and then, not to be outdone, grabs his cock and points it at me. "And do you like this?" "It's beautiful," I say, unhooking and unzipping my skirt. It is a beautiful cock. So thick and tall. It's exciting to think that it will soon be inside me. Kevin: Angie has sucked my cock many times, and I like to watch her do it. But watching her suck Carl that night allowed me to see her give head from an entirely different view. I watched not only her lips around Carl's cock, but her neck and shoulders, her whole body seemed dedicated to the act, bending and turning like tall grass in the wind, with every breath she took. After she sucked him a while, she stood up and took off her skirt. She knew I was watching, and she seemed to take her time. I think she was stripping for me as much as for Carl. She stood there a minute, her skirt in a puddle around her heels. I watched her step free of it, and look down at Carl, and then at his dick. That dude had to be dying to fuck my wife right then. I know I was. Her hot, slender body on display. Her purple thong panties pulled up tight around her nearly hairless crotch. Her sexy high heels and black stockings that ended in bands of lace just inches before reaching her panties. Hmmmm! Angie: I look down at my date. I'm still wearing panties and stockings. Nothing else. I am so fuckin' horny. By the looks of Carl's cock, he is too. I reach down and hook my thumbs in the waistband of my panties. "I don't think I'll be needing these any more tonight." God, when did I get to be so bold? My boys--one on the sofa and one at the top of the stairs--watch me take off my panties. With my pussy on display, I go over to the sofa. Kevin, if you don't want this to happen, Honey, you'd better get down here and stop me real quick. Otherwise, this man's big dick is about to find a temporary home inside your wife's hot little cunt. Slowly, I climb up on the sofa, straddling Carl—one knee on each side of him. My cunt just above his cock. "Oh, Baby!" he moans. "Oh, yeah! Sit on my cock, Honey." His hands fly to my tits. His fingers tease my erect nipples. I reach down and guide the tip of his cock to my wet cunt-lips. The heat from his cock warms my hand instantly. Kevin, are you watching? I'm gonna' do it, Honey I'm really gonna' do it! I lower my bottom and wriggle down onto Carl... lower and lower I work my wet cunt down onto him ….taking him deep inside me... filling my hot, quivering sex with his long, thick fuck pole! "Aghhh!" Carl groans as he disappears inside me. His cock is hot, hotter than I had imagined. Hot like a fever, burning inside me. "Ohhh," I moan as I begin moving up and down on him, the stretched walls of my slippery cunt clinging to him, gloriously stuffed with his long, hard man-meat. Up and down, I fuck him. Up and down. Up and down, moaning, but also laughing to myself from the pleasure and the absurdity of the situation—fucking another man while my husband watches. God! Kevin: And then came the moment the whole evening seemed to be leading up to. Angie climbed onto Carl's lap and lowered herself down onto him. I grabbed myself. I was kneeling, leaning forward for a better look. I could hear that wet, telltale sound of sex, that flesh-on-flesh sound a cock makes when it's pumping and sliding in and out of an aroused pussy. My cock was too hard, too excited to keep in my pants. I took it out and held it in my hand. I was planning on saving myself for later—for Angie's final performance of the evening, my co-star, my wife, my lover. That was my plan. But right then, watching her hot little ass bounce up and down on that hunk down there in the family room, I was willing to let my cock have its own way. If I come, I come, I said to myself. But then, something happened that took me completely by surprise. Angie: My eyes are closed. I am riding not only Carl's cock but also the crest of another wave of orgasm—my second since I lowered myself onto him. I hear him grunting as he thrusts up into me. He's saying something too, but I can't catch the words exactly, something about my pussy … and his cock. He's got his arms completely around me, holding me securely. I only realize how securely when he suddenly stands up—with me still fucking him. But now, on his feet, he has more freedom of movement and now his thrusts are harder and deeper. "Ohhhh!" I squeal, wrapping my legs around him. "Yeah! Fuck me, Carl! Fuck me!" "Oh, you like that, Baby? You like that? You don't know what fucking is yet," he says, lowering us both to the floor and pulling out of me at the same time. His strong arms spin me around. "On your hands and knees, bitch!" My sweet, lovable date suddenly sounds angry. His tenderness is gone and in its place is an animal, roaring, marking its territory, lording over me. I am at a loss for words. The thought of being taken doggy style is not an unpleasant one. I love fucking that way. Why shouldn't I enjoy it with Carl? I just don't especially like being called a "bitch." "Yeah, that's it, bitch! Stick that ass up in the air for me. Oh, yeah!" I wriggle my ass at him. Maybe once he's got his cock back inside the warm comfort of my pussy he'll return to the sensitive lover he was a few minutes ago. His large hands on me, gripping my hips, holding me in place, he rams his huge cock all the way in me with a single hard thrust of his hips. "Ahhhh!" I moan from the simple sweet thrill of having a stiff cock stuffed so quickly, so deeply, into me. He bangs me from behind like that, until I'm ready to scream. He's yelling obscenities as he fucks me. The sensitive Carl clearly has not returned. I hear the bitch word again, and now the word slut. "You like that don't you, you hot little slut!" "Hey!" I complain, letting him know my displeasure with his choice of words, but he either doesn't hear me or doesn't care. "You've got a really tight little pussy, bitch!! Now let's see how tight that little ass of yours is!" he says, gruffly. I feel one of his fingers at my asshole. "Hey, stop that! I don't want that!" His finger enters me. "HEY! Stop it, I said!" "C'mon, you little slut, you know you want me to fuck this little asshole of yours. Hold still!" he orders me, his voice louder and more forceful. He takes his finger out of my ass and grips me tighter with both hands, preventing me from moving away, "Dammit! Hold still, bitch!" "CARL, Let go of me!" I say, firmly, raising my voice now. "And if I don't? What are you going to do, bitch? Call that pansy-ass husband of yours? What kind of man invites another man to fuck his wife? He's probably hoping I'll fuck your hot slutty ass because he's not man enough!" I feel the head of his cock press hot against the tiny, tender hole of my ass. "STOP IT! NOT IN MY ASS! KEVIN!" "Save your breath, bitch! Your husband's probably too busy jackin' off somewhere! Now hold still, damn you!" Kevin: It all happened so fast! First they were fucking on the sofa, then they were fucking standing up and then, seconds later, they were doing it doggy style right there on the floor. In my wildest imagination, I never dreamed of seeing my wife so thoroughly pleasured like that. But as swiftly as that scene unfolded, another scene was simultaneously unfolding. Carl's voice was getting rough. He was suddenly calling Angie names, names like "slut" and "bitch," and "cunt." And Angie was clearly becoming increasingly uncomfortable. When she called for me, I knew things had gone too far. He was trying to fuck her up the ass, something she's never done and something she was not about to do with Carl. Stuffing my dick in my pants, I flew down the stairs and grabbed Carl by his hair and with more strength than I knew I had, yanked him backwards onto his ass. "What the fuck!" he yelled from his new seat on the floor, looking at me like where the fuck did you come from? "Party's over, you son-of-a-bitch! Don't you know how to treat a lady? No means no, in my book! Now get your damn clothes on and get your ass outta here!" Carl didn't have much to say to me. Oh, he mumbled something about how I was overreacting, but he left without any trouble, for which I was very relieved. That dude could've knocked my head off with one well-placed swing, I'm sure. I saw Carl to the front door and stood there until his car was out of sight. I started back downstairs to talk to Angie, but I she had already gone upstairs. "Kevin, I'm up here!" She was in bed. She was fine. Nothing damaged, she said. "… other than my date," she added. "Anyway, the first part was kinda nice," she chuckled. I was glad she was able to laugh the whole thing off. I was still angry as hell and it took me a while to calm down. Actually, it took more than time to calm me down. It took my loving wife's gentle touch on my cock and her sweet, sweet lips picking up where her fingers left off. As she sucked me, I couldn't help but recall the sight of her doing the same thing to Carl earlier. I remembered how hot that looked, but now it was my turn and I swear she seemed to be really enjoying it. Before, she was just doing it. Now her hands played with my balls and my ass and her lips and tongue were on center stage, giving the performance of their lives. When I came inside her, a few minutes later, I thought we were going to bang the bed into the wall. We both yelled like crazy and then just lay there, curled up, her spooned into me with her smooth hot bottom snuggled up into my crotch. The constant pressure of her butt eventually got to me, producing another hard-on before sleep overcame either of us, a hard-on which my "date" was only too glad to receive in her recently fucked cunt. My Husband Let Me Date Angie: My date is over. I am in bed with my husband. His fantasy, our experiment, is now behind us. He is asleep now. We made love twice. I think he'll sleep well tonight. And what a night it was. I star in a home-made porn flick (minus the video camera). Kevin almost gets into a slug fest with Carl the Hunk—or is it Carl the Asshole? He then gets a blow job from yours truly, followed by two very hot fucks! Yeah, I think he'll sleep just fine tonight. Actually, I think we'll both sleep well tonight. Will Kevin ever ask me to "date" another man? I don't think so. I think he got his fill of that little fantasy tonight. Kevin: What a night that was! Too bad it didn't work out completely. I think the problem was that neither of us really knew Carl. He was practically a stranger. Maybe if it was someone we both knew … Maybe that would work out better.