My Wife Opens Up

The Steelers are playing the Browns in the playoffs so I wanted to have friends over for a football party. I'm a die-hard Steelers fan and my friend, Kurt, is a big Browns fan. Usually the Steelers run all over the Browns, so I figured having Kurt over to watch the Steelers humiliate the Browns would be fun. I invited two other friends, Josh and Brad, over as well to witness Kurt's disgrace.

I told my wife that I'd be inviting a few friends over to watch the game. She was fine with that. I figured that Rebecca would probably go out with some of her friends while the guys were over, but I was surprised when she said that she'd host the party for me so I could enjoy the game.

I was happy Rebecca decided to do this because our marriage has been a little rocky recently. We've been married five years now. We probably got married too young. We married the year that I graduated from college and while she still had one year left. At the time all we knew was that we were in love and nothing else mattered. We were also both virgins before we had sex with each other, so we were young and inexperienced. But, I actually like knowing that I'm the only guy she's ever been with. Our sex life has dwindled to at best once a week, which seems way too infrequent to me. I've tried to be more romantic and she's tried to loosen up. We try to spend more time with each other, hoping that the intimacy will follow. That's why I figured she was going to host the football party for me, to do something nice for me, to allow me to spend some time with my friends, and show she loves me.

Kurt, Josh, and Brad all show up at the same time. They're carrying a case of Budweiser.

"Hey guys, you didn't have to bring any beer. I got everything we need," I say as I let them in to the house.

"We didn't want any of that Iron City shit," Kurt says and smiles.

"Iron City isn't shit," I reply, "But I've got a keg of Bud on the back porch already."

"Awesome," Josh says, "Then we shouldn't have to go back out for beer for a few hours then." We all laugh and I lead them into the den. I grab the case of Budweiser and take it into the kitchen. I see Rebecca has some food out she was preparing already, but she's not around. I open the case of beer and stuff the cans into the refrigerator, barely fitting them all in.

"Direct us to the beer," Brad says, standing in the kitchen doorway.

"Right out back," I say, pointing to the sliding glass doors at the back of the kitchen. "Mugs are on the counter." We each grab a mug and head out to the porch. I've already tapped the keg, so I just fill up each of our mugs and pass them out.

"Well, guys I brought a little something extra," Kurt says, and pulls a big, fat joint out of his shirt pocket.

"Nice," Josh exclaims, "Let's light that puppy up."

"Nope," Kurt replies, and stuffs it back in his shirt pocket, "We'll light this up when the Browns score their first touchdown. To celebrate."

"Man, we'll never get to smoke it then," I joke.

"Actually, we should be smoking this in about," Kurt starts, and looks at his watch, "Oh, I'd say ten minutes."

"Come on," I say, "Finish your beers, refill, and let's go back inside." We all chug our beers, refill the mugs, and go back into the kitchen.

"You've been doing some cooking today, eh, Mike?" Josh asks as he grabs a handful of potato chips from a bowl.

"Naw, I didn't do any of this. Rebecca did it," I say.

"Oh yeah, where's the old lady at?" Kurt asks looking over the food on the counter.

"I don't know," I answer, "She's around somewhere. Let's get out of here. I'm not sure if we're allowed to be eating the food yet." I push Kurt ahead of me and we all walk back into the den. I sit in my oversized chair. The guys all sit on our large couch. I turn the television to the pre-game show.

"See, even these guys say the Steelers are gonna win?" I taunt Kurt.

"Yeah, they don't know shit," he says back.

"They know the Browns are gonna lose," Josh says.

"Whose side are you on?" Kurt asks him, jokingly.

"The side of the man with the keg of beer," Josh answers back.

"Who wants snacks?" Rebecca yells from the kitchen.

"There she is," I say, then yell back, "We all do."

Rebecca walks into the den carrying a plate and a bowl, but I barely notice what she has in her hands. She's wearing a short, denim mini-skirt that reaches only a few inches down her thigh past her butt. Her shirt is a tight, Steelers jersey, with the bottom cut off, so that it fits snugly over her breasts, then ends revealing her tight stomach. Her hair is teased out and curled slightly, draping across her face down past her shoulders. She has short, black leather, side zip boots on her feet.

I barely recognize her as my wife. Though she has a very sexy body she has always been shy about showing it off. Until we started dating I only knew she was pretty, but I didn't know how sexy she was. She has long, dark blonde hair with no bangs that hangs down her back. She has light, blue eyes and a beautiful face. She has very light, fair skin. She's 5'7" tall, but it seems like most of that is legs. I've always been a leg man, and Rebecca has one of the nicest pairs of legs I've ever seen. Her thighs are nice and round, not too skinny like a lot of girls, but still firm. Her hips curve out smoothly from her flat stomach. Her breasts are a large C-cup. She always wears clothes like long skirts, pants, and loose shirts. I am always telling her that she needs to stop dressing like her mom and start dressing like a young, sexy woman, at least for me in our house, but she is too inhibited. The longer we're married the more inhibited she becomes. That's why I'm so surprised when I see her now.

All of us stare at her, shocked. She places a plate of sausage cheese balls and a bowl of chips on the table.

"Here you go guys, this should get you started," she says, looking at all of us.

"Um, thanks, Rebecca," Brad mumbles, then the other two stutter the same. She looks at me, blows me a quick kiss, then turns to head back to the kitchen. As she walks away, I watch her ass moving under the skirt and her legs flex supported by the short heels of the boots.

"Damn, man," Kurt whispers to me when she leaves the room, "What the hell happened to her?"

"Yeah, she looks hot," Brad says.

I stand up from the chair. "I'll be right back," I say and chase after her to the kitchen. She's removing food from the refrigerator as I enter the kitchen. "Rebecca," I call to her.

"What?" she asks, as she closes the fridge door and places some items on the counter.

"What the hell are you doin'?" I ask her, trying not to yell.

"I'm getting ready to make my special homemade pizza for halftime," she answers.

"No, I mean what are you wearing?" I say holding my hand out, pointing at her clothes.

"Oh, this, well, I thought I'd dress sexier for you. You're always saying I should stop dressing like my mom. Well, my mom would definitely not wear this," she answers, turning to me, her hands on her cocked hips. I stare at her standing in front of me. She looks like a different woman, still my wife, but the sexed up version of her.

"Your mom couldn't wear that," I say. She smiles back at me.

"Well, don't you like it," she says, and slowly turns in a circle. I look her up and down, admiring her breasts pushing the shirt up off her belly and her long, gorgeous legs, extending from the short skirt. I have to admit she looks sexier than I have ever seen her before. I walk up to her as she completes her turn and wrap my hands around her bare abdomen. I lean back, pretending to appraise her for a few seconds then look back at her.

"You look incredibly sexy," I say.

"Yeah, I think so too," she says, and reaches up to kiss me lightly on the lips.

"Well, I think that the guys think so, too," I say when she breaks the kiss.

"Yeah, I saw that. Hope it doesn't make you jealous?" she teases.

"Jealous? Me?"

"Well, you don't have to be jealous, because I'm a one man woman, and you're the only one who'll be getting into this skirt," she says and mashes her hips against me.

"What's under that skirt?" I ask, slipping my hands down her sides to her butt.

"You'll have to find out later," she says and pulls away from me. "Go get your friends some beer and then watch your game." She turns back to the counter. I stare at her for a few seconds then head back to the den.

"Who needs a refill?" I say, "Finish it if it ain't empty already." They finish their beers. I grab the empty mugs and walk back into the kitchen. I stare at Rebecca as I walk through the kitchen and then again as I walk back through the filled mugs.

"Don't strain your neck," she says as I leave the kitchen.

I set the mugs down on the coffee table and take a big swig from mine.

"By the way," Kurt says, "The Steelers punted already and the Browns are now driving."

"Who cares?" Josh says, "What's up with Rebecca?"

"She just felt like dressing different today," I answer.

"Different?" Josh says. "Damn man, I barely recognized her."

"Yeah, she looks hot," Brad says. "I'd have never known she was..." and then stops when I glance at him.

"Well, all I have to say is I'm now a converted Steelers fan," Josh says.

"I've never seen a Steelers jersey look so good," Kurt adds, and we all laugh.

The laughter stops abruptly as Rebecca enters the room. She walks over to my chair and sits on the side of it, one leg on the floor, the other dangling. Her skirt pulls up high on her thigh. I stare at her, wanting to reach out and touch her leg. The guys all sit back in the couch, trying to pretend they're not staring at her.

"So what's the score?" she asks.

"Nothing to nothing, right now," Kurt says, "But the Browns are about to score."

"Nope," I say watching them not convert on third down, "Looks they're punting." Rebecca touches her hand to the back of my head, curling her fingers in my hair.

"Well, what do you guys need?" she asks, looking at the food.

"Nothing now, hon," I say, "Thanks."

"Well, you guys finish that food. There's plenty more in the kitchen and homemade pizza for halftime," she says and stands up. She walks around the chair and then bends over to me. She kisses me softly, her ass pointing at the guys on the couch. She stands up and walks back to the kitchen.

"Damn," Brad whispers under his breath. I look at him, and then we all laugh.

"Agreed," I say. We all pull up to the coffee table and start eating the food she brought out earlier. We watch the first quarter, eating a lot of food. I push them to drink more so that I can walk into the kitchen to see her, kiss her, and touch her. At the end of the first quarter with the Steelers leading 7-0, I go back to the porch for more refills.

I enter the kitchen and set the empty mugs on the counter. She's putting the finishing touches on the pizza. I watch her bend over, as she puts the pizza into the oven, getting the same view the guys did earlier. The skirt slides up her legs, almost showing her crotch.

I walk up behind her as she closes the oven door. I place my hands on her hips and press my pelvis against her butt. She stands up and reaches her hands back to my hips. She leans her head back against my right shoulder.

"How's the game going?" she asks.

"What game?" I say. I bend my head down pressing my lips to her neck. I slide my hands up her hips and wrap them around her bare stomach.

"Are they winning, at least," she whispers.

"I think so," I sigh against her neck. My hands slide up to grab her breasts through the tight jersey. She slides a hand across my hip and rubs my hardening dick through my jeans.

"Hmmm, looks the game excites you," she says.

"It's not the game," I say.

"Hey, where's my beer!" Kurt yells from the den. All three of them start laughing.

"I'm gonna have to kick them out," I mumble.

"No, they're our guests. You'll just have to wait," she says and pulls away from me. Reluctantly, I grab the empty mugs and walk to the porch to refill them. I return to the den and set the full mugs down in front of them.

"Took you long enough," Brad says, "You almost missed the second quarter."

"Drink your beer and shut up," I answer back and smile.

Halfway through the second quarter, Rebecca comes back out to the den. She sits on the arm of my chair, this time facing into the room, one foot propped on the chair cushion between my knees and the other resting on the floor. Her legs are spread wide and the denim skirt is pushed up high on her thighs. The guys all sneak looks up her skirt. I'm guessing they're getting quite a view. I place my hand on her thigh and rub my palm across the smooth skin.

"Everyone doing good in here?" she asks, and places her hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah," Josh stumbles, "Yeah, Rebecca, we're doin' real good." Kurt laughs, trying to hold it back.

"Well, the pizza's in the oven, and should be ready for you guys at halftime," she says.

"Thanks, hon," I say, my hand sliding further up her leg.

"Who's winning?" she asks.

"Um, Steelers, 14-3," Kurt says, "But they're getting all the calls their way."

Rebecca looks down at her jersey and lifts her hand to her chest. She slides her hand across the jersey, just below her nipples. "Who's number is this?" she asks, indicating the number on her tight half jersey.

"00 is nobody," I say.

"Yeah," Brad says, "That one is definitely all yours." They all laugh this time.

Rebecca smiles at them, and stands up. "Holler if you guys need anything," she says and goes back towards the kitchen. I notice everyone's eyes are latched onto her as she walks away. She stops just as she reaches the kitchen door and turns around. She leans against the doorframe and bends her right leg, sliding the bottom of the boot along the wall. I watch her skirt slide up her legs slightly. "What do you guys want for dessert later?" she asks.

"I know what I want," I barely hear Brad mumble under his breath. Josh nudges him with his elbow.

"Anything you make is fine with me, Rebecca," Kurt responds.

"There's some ice cream in the fridge, if that's all right with you guys?" she says.

"Oh yeah, that's perfect," Kurt says. She turns and exits the room into the kitchen.

"Damn, I'm sorry Mike, but your wife is driving me nuts," Brad says, turning to me.

"I understand. She's driving me nuts too," I say back. "Chug 'em so I can refill 'em," I say to change the topic.

Later, just as the first half of the game ends, Rebecca returns with the homemade pizza. She makes the best pizza. She makes a huge pie with a thick crust and lots of sauce, cheese, and all the toppings. It's much bigger and better than anything from a pizza joint. She slides the pan onto the coffee table, nudging the other plates and bowls to the side.

"Eat it up, guys," she says. Everyone bends over the table and grabs a slice. She curls up on the floor beside the table.

"We can make room for you over here," Brad says, motioning to the couch.

"Thanks, I'm fine here," she says and grabs a slice of the pizza for herself.

"This is some good pizza, Rebecca," Kurt comments, "This is way better than ordering delivery."

"Yeah, he's right. It's excellent," Brad adds. Josh nods his approval.

"Thanks, guys, Mike always says he loves it, so I thought I'd try it out on you guys too," she says.

I watch her sitting on the floor as she eats the pizza. Her shirt is pulled tight against her breasts and the neckline has sunk low down her chest. I can definitely see the top of her breasts. I glance at the couch and notice all three of my friends have noticed this as well. We sit there, talking awkwardly, all of us guys too busy ogling Rebecca to make much conversation. When we finish the pizza, she stands up to get the empty pizza pan. I know the guys are all getting a good look down her shirt as she bends over to pick it up. She walks back to the kitchen.

"I think we all need refills," I say, and grab all four empty mugs and walk out of the den.

I set the mugs on the counter and turn to Rebecca who is placing the pan in the sink. I step behind her and place my hands on her bare hips.

"Hey hon," she says, "Pizza any good."

"You know it," I respond, "But I barely tasted it. I couldn't take my eyes off of you." She laughs softly. "And I wasn't the only one. You're driving them wild in there. They can't even think when you're in that room." I lean my head over her right shoulder, talking softly into her ear. My hands are sliding along the bare skin at her midsection.

"I know," she says. "It's kind of a turn-on, feeling like a sex object. I've had guys look at me before, but never so...I don't know...so passionately, I guess."

"Yeah, it's definitely passion they're feeling," I say and press my hips against her butt. My hands move up her body, cupping her breasts through the tight jersey.

"I think I'm feeling some passion right now," she says, and reaches her left hand to my head, pulling my mouth to her neck. She tilts her head as I kiss her neck, my tongue lapping her cool skin, moving up behind her ear. My hands rub her hard nipples through the shirt.

Her other hand slides between us, finding my hard penis, mashed against her butt. She rubs it through my jeans. I move one hand down her body, sliding down her side, to her butt, feeling the denim skirt against my palm, and then down to her thigh. My hand moves along the front of her leg and up, caressing her inner thigh, slipping towards her crotch.

"I want you so bad," I whisper in her ear, "I want you worse than I ever have."

"Then, take me," she whispers back to me, "But make it quick, you've got guests." She turns around quickly, bumping my body away from her. She reaches under her skirt and slides her thong down her legs, steps out of it, and drops it on the counter. I stand there staring at her, shocked. "Come on," she says, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me to her.

I'm too stunned to act at first. Does she really want me to fuck her right now, in the kitchen, with my friends in the next room? She reaches her face to me and kisses me deeply, her tongue pushing into my mouth. Her hands are moving along my sides, pressing against the muscles through my t-shirt. All reservations are driven from my head. My desire overwhelms rational thought.

I reach down between our bodies, unbuckle my belt, unsnap my pants, yank my zipper down, and shove my pants and underwear down to my thighs. My erect cock springs out against her.

"Wow," she whispers to me, "You are ready aren't you." She presses her body back against the counter, grips the edge of the counter with her hands, spreads her legs wide, the inside of her bare thighs brushing against the outside of my legs, and lifts her hips towards me. I slide my hands up her thighs, pushing the skirt high up on her pelvis. Then, I bend my knees slightly, lowering the head of my cock between her legs. I feel my penis rubbing against her pubic hair. I reach a hand between her legs and rub it gently across her pussy. My fingers glide along her wet pussy lips.

"I'm not the only who's ready," I say to her.

"Yeah, dressing like this and being stared at has turned me on," she says back to me. "Now fuck me fast."

I've never heard her talk like this before. I'm so turned on that I feel like I'm going to explode before I even get inside of her. I wrap my left arm around her butt, and lift her up slightly, resting her butt barely on the counter. I feel my cock head pressing against her wet pussy. I reach my right hand between us and aim my painfully hard penis to her opening. She leans her body back a bit. I press the head of my dick against her and push into her. It sinks inside of her, moving smoothly into her wet cunt.

"Oh God," she says and presses her lower lip between her teeth. I slide into her, feeling the shaft glide inside of her. I wrap my hands around her thighs, supporting her body while keeping her legs spread wide. I begin moving in and out of her, loving the feel of her tight, wet cunt slipping along my cock.