If I 'get you off,' please take a few moments to tell me about it in the comments.
(Re-edited 3rd June 2021)
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We'd fantasied about this night for so many years and now it was really happening.
My sexy wife was sat next to me in the back of the cab in a ridiculously tight black cocktail dress. From head to toe, she was perfect. Her toenails were painted black. The black nail varnish contained silver glitter which twinkled from the London street lights, which flashed past outside. In addition to her nail vanish she wore only her high-heeled shoes and the tiny black cocktail dress. Nothing else. No underwear.
An hour earlier, I'd sat in the armchair of our hotel room watching her get ready. She had planned to wear a sheer, lacy, half-cupped bra and matching black panties, which she had put on and taken off three or four times before she'd built up the courage to leave her underwear on the bed.
Watching Carly paint her toenails, rub lotion on her toned tight body and apply her make-up whilst completely naked was (and still is) a favourite pastime for me.
Carly had worked hard to get her figure back after having the kids and I was the main beneficiary of her efforts. In return for her efforts to look so good, I would reward her with pleasure. She has always had an insatiable appetite for sex and I spend hours with my head between her legs using my mouth to bring her to orgasm.
So many of our friends, male and female, have complained to us over the years about how the excitement in their relationships has died away over time. I, on the other hand, am lucky because, for a 33-year-old mum of two, my horny wife likes to cum at least twice a day. She'd confessed to me in the most casual of fashions that most mornings she will use the water jet from the shower head on herself as it's a nice way to start the day.
I pressed my hand onto her knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. She looked at me and I asked softly, "are you ok?"
She smiled and said, "yeah, I'm excited but nervous babe".
I squeezed her knee again and offered reassuringly, "I know. I'm nervous too. But remember, we don't have to do anything if we don't want. We can leave whenever we're ready".
She smiled and nodded.
A few minutes later the cab pulled over and we were quickly stood on the pavement.
It was nearly 11 pm and the small discrete sign on the door was barely visible. I took Carly's hand and we stepped forward together. I pressed the buzzer next to the black engraved business plaque. It simply read, 'Members Club'. The door buzzed and I pushed it open.
We stepped inside and a very attractive young lady greeted us.
"Welcome to Club Satisfaction," she said with a broad smile. "Can I take your names please?"
We gave our names and whilst she found us on her list I admired the entrance hall which was surprisingly grand compared to the understated door from the outside. The walls were dressed with purple velvet curtains and the carpet was a long deep black shag.
The hostess add a little tick next to our names and moved to open a heavy red, crush velvet curtain and we were shown through to the bar area. The bar was reasonably busy and we selected a little table in a corner. Our table was a semi-circled booth which allowed us to sit cuddly closely together and to survey the room. Another beautiful young woman came over and took our drinks order.
Without a doubt, we were nervous. We sat silent and pressed very closely together. Subconsciously we were using our little table as a barrier, a defensive shield that we were safe behind.
We both looked around the room, looking for some reassurance that we weren't too far out of our depth or for some comfort that we had made a big mistake.
For many months, if not years, we had fantasies about Carly being with another woman. We had even signed up for a swingers website and attempted to meet someone online. The realities of it however were that it needed us to be more open than we wanted to be. We didn't want someone coming into our home and understandably young attractive women didn't want to meet a random couple in a hotel using fake names.
Tonight was different. Tonight we were incognito. We had planned how we would deal with different situations. We had changed our names and practiced using them and we had a safe word which either of us could use at any point if we felt uncomfortable with how a situation was playing out. We even had an emergency word which was to be used as an 'I want to leave right fucking now.'
As I surveyed the room I started to realise that it was actually not too different from any other bar. 'Ok, Yes, the women were dressed a little more sexily'. Their dresses were certainly shorter than they might be on a usual night out. The length of their skirts were purposefully slightly too short thus allowing their stocking tops to show. Their heals were higher than they might usually be and their necklines more plunging. In general, there was a little more flesh on show than might be acceptable in public. Finally, there was more tight-fitting, leather, and PVC clothing but in general, it was normal(ish).
Any slight over exaggerations in 'attire' by the girls was quickly offset by the guys. With the exception of one guy who was wearing leather trousers, a black string vest with a collar around his neck with a lead that led to a clip which was fastened onto his wife/partners wrist, the men were all dressed very smartly, and as if they were spending the evening in a nice gastropub, or similar. Smart jeans, shoes, and shirts.
I felt myself relax slightly and in turn, Carly seemed to also loosen up. I felt us physically reduce the pressure of how we had sat so tightly together. As we did so our drinks arrived.
The waitress unloaded her tray onto our table. She placed the ice bucket and glasses in front of us and then unwrapped the champagne and expertly eased the cork from the bottle. The little pop caused a few people to look over.
She poured the two glasses and placed the bottle back into the bucket. Instinctively, I offered, "please help yourself. If you'd like a glass'.
The waitress smiled politely but didn't say anything. She just turned and headed back towards the bar, weaving through the small crowd of people. I couldn't help but notice that she was very attractive and I found myself quickly evaluating her against my wife's (often discussed) criteria of the type of girl she wanted to 'be with'. Without a doubt, our waitress, with her long brown hair, long slender legs, and tiny waist, easily met Carly's requirements.
As I pondered her suitability she reemerged back through the crowd. She was holding an empty champagne flute and making her way towards us, smiling. Without needing to be asked again, she squeezed herself in next to my wife and poured herself a glass of the champagne.
She introduced herself as Megan and asked us confidently about how long it had taken us to muster the courage to visit the club for what was evidently our first time. She set us instantly at ease, and we laughed at how obvious it must have been for her to tell that we were indeed, 'newbies'.
She told us that she was one of the managers at the club and that her role was to be a 'hostesses' which meant she didn't have to be behind the bar and that as long as the guests were having a nice time then she was free to move around the club as she wished, including sitting with us and having a few drinks.
Carly and I listened very happily as Megan explained to us that most of the married couples that visit the club are all looking to do the same thing. She said that 'they are almost always there to help the wife play out their fantasy of being with another woman. Carly's blushes, little giggles and subconscious eyelash fluttering as Megan spoke were clear signs that she was hugely enjoying Megan's company.
Megan told us that, usually, the desire steamed from an earlier experience with a girlfriend. Usually a sleepover with some experimenting. Usually, not much more than kissing or fingers but a memory nonetheless, that had stayed with them ever since then, and that they had now gotten to a point in their life then they finally felt confident that they could explore those feeling and act on them.
It was music to Carly's ears and she nodding eagerly and confirmed (as I well knew) that, this was exactly the case for Carly and that her experience had been with a slightly older female cousin and that the cousin had kissed her and used her fingers on Carly and then that Carly had returned the compliment on her cousin. Carly confessed that she had never forgotten the experience and that it was a 'go to' fantasy for her when she was having (what she referred to as) alone time.
Megan confessed that she had a similar story and experience involving her two sisters. She described very candidly a story about how, on many occasions, her sisters and her would experiment on each other using mouths, fingers, hairbrush handles, and even their mum's vibrator from her bedroom draw. She told us that they'd all lay on the bed and pass it around one after the other. She had a captivating laugh and the unbelievable naughtiness of the conversation was definitely affecting both Megan and Carly. I knew that my job was to keep my mouth shut and to feel very lucky to have a front-row seat to watching these two beautiful, sexy women exciting each other.
I raised my hand to capture the attention of another member of staff and without saying a word (as I didn't want to stop the girls chatting) I tapped my finger on the top of the now-empty bottle of champagne, signalling that I'd like a fresh bottle. It was promptly replaced with a new bottle. I refilled our three glasses.
