I'm Rob. A while back, my best friend Chuck told you the story of the time he and my wife Stacy went on a date to a concert that his wife Amy and I set up for them. It ended up being a crazy night all the way around - you can read Chuck and Stacy's story in
The Love You Make
. I thought you might also enjoy hearing about what Amy and I were doing while our spouses were at the concert. . .
*****
It all started when Chuck's co-worker Jim offered him two tickets to the upcoming Paul McCartney concert. Chuck has been a huge Beatles/McCartney fan his whole life. Of course, his first thought was to take his wife, but when he told Amy about it, she said that she would go with him if he wanted her to, but she really wasn't all that excited about it. She suggested that he offer the tickets to me.
When Chuck came to me, I told him that I'd gladly go with him and even have a good time, but that Stacey was a much bigger fan than I was - she'd actually gone to see the Beatles when she was a kid - and she'd be ecstatic to have the chance to see Sir Paul again.
Chuck wasn't so sure about taking his buddy's wife on a date, so he said he needed to check it with Amy. But Amy was even more enthusiastic about the idea than I was, so it was a date. When Chuck and Amy came to our house to offer a ticket to Stacy, she shrieked for joy and jumped into Chuck's arms, wrapping her legs around his waist, and her arms around his neck. Chuck had no choice but to hold her up with his hands on her ass, while Amy and I looked at each other, stifling giggles.
*****
Now, Stacy is a very spontaneous, very uninhibited, very passionate woman, and she has a special gift for drawing me out of my more reserved ways. Best of all, she's VERY sexual. She LOVES sex, and everything about it, and I have spent our entire married life reaping the benefits of that. She loves my erect penis, any way she can get it - in her hands, in her mouth, between her tits, in her vagina. And she especially loves the feeling of the warm rush of my semen inside her when I come.
Stacy's breasts are magnificent. They're big - REALLY big. I suppose most guys hope that they'll marry a woman with big tits, but when Stacy and I fell in love with each other, I felt like the luckiest man in the world. I could spend hours with my face lost in Stacy's tits, licking and sucking and squeezing and fondling them to my heart's delight.
*****
The closer it got to the day of the concert, the more excited Stacy got. She was practically bouncing off the walls as she walked around the house. "I can't believe it," she would say over and over, "it's really going to happen."
Stacy's libido increased with her excitement. Suddenly, she wanted more sex, more often, with more orgasms than she had since we were newlyweds. She'd 'accidentally' brush her hand against my crotch, or even grab my package, when we passed each other in the kitchen, or the hallway. Not that I was complaining, mind you.
About a week before the concert, Stacy and Amy came to talk to me, with serious looks on their faces.
"What's up, ladies?" I asked, smiling, keeping the mood light.
Stacy looked at Amy, who gave her an encouraging look, nodding in my direction.
"OK," Stacy exhaled. "The concert is next week, right?"
"Yeah. . ."
"Well. . . you know how horny I've been lately?"
I grinned. "Yeah, I've noticed."
"Well, I'm worried."
"Worried? About what?"
I'm worried that I might get too excited at the concert, and. . ." Her voice trailed off.
"And what, Sweetheart?"
"Oh, Ron. . . What if I end up having sex with Chuck? I mean, I'm already way amped up, and it's still a week until the concert."
I paused. I knew Stacy well enough to know that her concern wasn't just overwrought. She very well might lose herself in the moment and want to fuck Chuck. And I knew that if she did, it would be nigh unto impossible for Chuck to resist her.
"Well, Sweetheart," I began, casting a glance toward Amy, "let's think this through. Are you worried that you and I might split up if you have sex with Chuck?"
"Maybe."
"That's not going to happen," I assured her. "You and Chuck are my two favorite people in the world. I would expect that sharing an experience like this will bring the two of you closer together. So what if that becomes sexual? If you were ever going to fuck another guy, Chuck is the only one I'd trust you with."
"Right," Amy chimed in. "And if Chuck were ever going to screw another woman, you're the only one I'd want him to do it with."
Stacy looked at Amy, then back at me. "Do you guys really mean that?" she asked.
"Mmm-hmm," Amy and I agreed. "We do."
"Look," Amy said, "just go to the concert and have fun, and don't worry."
"Right," I agreed. "Whatever happens will be OK with us."
"You guys are the best!" She wrapped both Amy and me in a tight three-way hug, then stepped back, looking at us.
"But listen," Stacy continued, "if you're OK with Chuck and me fucking, then the two of you should be free to fuck each other, if the situation is right."
I looked at Amy. I'd be lying if I said I'd never thought of having sex with her, but it honestly hadn't occurred to me in the present conversation until Stacy raised the possibility. But it was a possibility I found very intriguing, now that she'd mentioned it.
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about Amy and me," I replied. "We're not the ones going to an amazing concert together."
"I'm not worried," Stacy answered. "At least, not anymore. . ."
*****
At last the day of the concert came. Stacy and I walked down to Chuck and Amy's house, so Amy and I and our seven teenaged kids (their four and our three) could see them off on their great adventure.
"Have fun!" I told Stacy as I kissed her through the minivan window, playfully slipping my tongue between her lips.
"I expect we will," she grinned. "Thanks for letting me go."
"My pleasure," I answered.
"We'll see about that," she snickered.
Chuck backed out of the driveway, while we all waved and bid them enjoy themselves. They turned and drove up the street; when they turned onto the main road, we couldn't see them any longer, and they were 'officially' on their way.
Amy had steaks on the grill, and she and the kids and I had a sumptuous feast in the back yard. When we were all filled to satiety, the leftovers stored and the dishes carried into the kitchen, the kids dispersed to various friends' houses, leaving Amy and me alone together.
Amy carried one last load of dishes into the house. When she returned, she was carrying two bottles of wine, and a pair of wine glasses.
"You don't want to spend the evening alone at home while your wife is on a hot date with your best friend, do you?" she chuckled. "Why don't you and I relax over some wine?"
I smiled. "That sounds like a wonderful idea," I replied.
Amy poured the wine, and the two of us sat facing each other across the picnic table, sipping and savoring the rich flavor of the wine.
Amy looked into her glass and smiled. "This is just the craziest thing," she said, shaking her head. "My husband and your wife going on a date together."
"And not just any date," I responded, "but I'm pretty sure that as far as they're concerned, this is pretty close to the Date of All Dates. I'm not sure I've ever taken Stacy on a date that excited her any more than this one."
"And the craziest part," Amy continued, "is that
we set it up for them!
Are we crazy or what?" We both doubled over in uproarious laughter, until tears came from our eyes and we were gasping for breath.
Once we had recovered our breath, we were quiet for several seconds, both of us thinking the same thing. Amy spoke first. "Do you think they'll end up fucking each other?" she asked. Far from anything like anxiety, her tone of voice expressed simple curiosity more than anything else. Our conversation a week previously had clearly given them whatever 'permission' they might have needed.
I smiled wryly. "Oh yeah," I said. "They'll end up fucking each other. Stacy is way too geeked for them not to. For the past two weeks, she's been hornier than I've ever seen her. You wouldn't believe how much sex we've had!"
"Poor boy," Amy giggled. "It must have been hard."
"It was incredibly hard," I said, with a leer. "Big, too."
Amy swatted my hand for my randy little joke.