You know, he's right: if the night at Samantha's had been the last night that we'd done anything that wild, I think we would have both been satisfied. We certainly had done more interesting things in the bedroom in the past year than we had in a while, and I will tell you that makes me it all worth it. But I also will tell you that there was more I was looking forward to exploring.
He wasn't exactly right about the weeks following the party, though. Yes, there was that afternoon on our couch and in our kitchen after I got back from San Francisco, but aside from a couple of other times, that was about it. Something as... elaborate... as our three-way adventure takes a lot of energy and wears you out for a while afterward. Don't get me wrong, I think I've got a more than healthy sex drive for a woman in her forties, but I need more recovery time than I did back in my college years.
When I sent Samantha three files in January, I'd been thinking about these next few steps since she'd offered herself before the party. You know how it is--you get an idea in your head, you're given some sort of permission for the idea, and then you start thinking about what else you can do. That began with letting my imagination go as to what I would like to watch her and my husband do to one another. It evolved as I watched them fuck and then joined in because not only was the sex really hot, I discovered that having them do what I wanted was a turn on. I thought a lot about how I told Samantha to take his cock all the way down her throat, and how I told her to sit on his face; it was just as hot as anything I'd seen the two of them do, and I wanted to be in charge of it all.
It wasn't a control thing in a domination way, though. I'd explored a little bit of that when I was watching videos in my hotel rooms; as sexy as it could be, it wasn't something I was interested in. This was more like scripting and then directing a scene. So when I considered what to send Samantha, I decided to start with what I knew: a couple of the audios my husband and I had both listened to and a favorite regular video.
For the audio files, I went with Elle. He was correct when he called her my favorite. She has this sultry voice that she does so much with: she can be breathy, sexy, playful, and even commanding. There's so much that she can do and so many ways I'm sure she makes him come when he listens to her. So I chose "Twice as Nice" and another file in the hopes that Samantha would be interested in re-creating them... at least in some way.
I won't get into the tedious details of what it took for us to put together our "Twice as Nice", but it was more work than I expected. But since the result was so great, I had no qualms about recording the audio that Samantha requested in exchange. That would be it, though. The other two "assignments" (if you will), I decided, would be in person.
Up next was the video or my plan to not only watch but direct my husband having hot sex with Samantha right in front of me. And while that video might have been easy to send her way, it was hard to find. Back when Samantha first gave me the advice to search for and find what I wanted, I went right to PornHub where I was met with what seemed like a wall of "teens" or women my age sleeping with their "step sons." It was tough to simply find a slightly older couple (or group because I watched a few of those) who didn't go too far for me. But then I found a porn star who was tall and voluptuous and while not all of her videos were hits, there were a few that I came back to more than a few times.
It wasn't until early January, when I had an afternoon to myself and decided to be a little indulgent, that I realized my favorite porn star bore a resemblance to Samantha.
No, this isn't some crazy twist. Samantha isn't on PornHub. This tall, voluptuous, brunette beauty had the same body as my best friend, and as I discovered that afternoon, turning the video off and just imagining Samantha going through all of the positions and acts in that video with my husband was hotter than watching it on my iPad.
But I could make it even hotter--a personal show for me--and after Samantha thanked me for sending her that audio file, I texted her if she was interested in what was on the video.
"Sure. Are we making a sex tape?" she asked.
"No, in person," I replied.
"Do we have to copy it exactly?"
"Well... I'll tell you what I want to see."
"That sounds interesting."
"I know," I said. "So, are you in?"
"Yes."
"I'll be in touch about setting it up," I replied.
She replied with a thumbs up and a few days later, we worked out the details. Like the first time, my husband was clueless about what we were up to; unlike the first time, the plan wasn't simply "flirt with him during the party and then attack him after." No, it involved making sure that we were all available, figuring out whose place we were going to use, and that she had the right lingerie.
That day when we were available was a Saturday in late February, about three weeks after my trip to Chicago. I was in the middle of a rare travel lull and Samantha's daughters were not around; the older was back at college and the younger was at her dad's for the weekend. Our kid had plans for that evening, which meant we had to be around to chauffeur, but we had the afternoon free. So we decided on calling it "lunch."
And we really did have lunch. Because this wasn't like keeping a doctor's appointment or anything.
We went over to her house in the early afternoon, bottle of wine in hand, and spent an hour or so catching up. Samantha and I kept our cool, although I have to confess that was easier said that done. She slyly flirted with him the entire time and it was turning me on. He seemed to catch on a little, or at least was letting his mind wander to the possibilities. Considering the last time all three of us had hung out together was at her Christmas party, I couldn't blame him.
Anyway, we'd finished our lunch and my husband and I were cleaning off the kitchen table when Samantha excused herself and went upstairs. He didn't think anything of it, but I had to subtly take a cleansing breath because I knew what she was up to. Then, I took a gulp of wine and helped him put some plates in the sink.
A few minutes later, we heard the click of heels on the floor, and looked up to see Samantha standing in front of us. She was wearing a black corset that pushed her breasts up and just about over the top of its cups, and a barely there G-string over a garter that was attached to fishnet stockings. She was stunning.
"Holy shit," my husband managed.
Samantha smiled and walked over to him. Her heels were tall enough that she was just about his height, so when she squeezed herself against him, everything lined up. You wouldn't think that this would also be a turn on, but I was immediately reminded of that porn star; I was so aroused that had I not planned for her to fuck him, I would have taken her myself.
"You want to come upstairs?" she asked him.
Oh God yes, I thought. He nodded and she smiled, then turned and walked away. We both watched her for a moment, taking in how her G-string disappeared between her ample ass cheeks, and then followed her upstairs.
Her bedroom was fully lit, the comforter sat in a pile on the floor, and in front of her walk-in closet, she'd placed one of those papasan chairs, which was meant for me. It also clearly came from one of her daughters' bedrooms because she'd placed a sheet over the cushion. Noting her conscientiousness, I chuckled and sat down.
Samantha took my husband's hand and guided him over to the space between my chair and the bed. They kissed for a few moments and he ran his hands up down her back and squeezed her ass. "I think he likes what he sees," she said.
"Well, how could he not? I mean, I do." I replied.
She smiled and kissed him again, moving her hands up and down until one of them cradled the back of his head and the other his back. He continued to squeeze her ass, and after a minute, she pulled her head away and stared at me while he kissed her neck and throat. I stared back, making sure I met her intensity and slid my hand between my legs, which closed a little as I rubbed myself through my jeans. She smiled and started kissing him again.
