Joe was a soft spoken man. He was a tall, light skinned black man with a lanky yet fit build and a bald head. Samantha had met him at the fitness center pool and they had talked each day while she trained for her first triathlon. She had replaced her heroin addiction with exercise and she was in the best shape of her life.
Samantha was physically and emotionally attracted to Joe early on and she knew he was into her but she had taken things slowly. She was gun shy about getting into a new relationship and things had been going well between us since she'd gotten out of rehab.
"I think I'm ready," she told me as we laid in bed. It had been six months since she got out of rehab and our lives had returned to a normal routine. We had, for the most part, avoided kink. She hadn't locked me in chastity nor had we role-played any group scenarios. We still used toys and dabbled a little in bondage and power exchanges to satisfy our thirst for the atypical. We still talked about getting back into the lifestyle when the time was right but we'd been in no hurry to rush or force it. It was that kind of haste and a thirst for extreme kink that had led her to James and we had both learned from that mistake.
James had ended up murdering a fellow inmate in prison and was likely in prison for life which was good. He was a bad person and I was glad he was hopefully out of our lives for ever. He had reached out to Samantha from prison in the first few months after her stint in rehab but she had ignored his calls and he'd eventually given up.
"With Joe?" I asked. He'd been to our house for dinner a few times and he knew we'd once been active in the lifestyle. He had noticed Samantha's Queen of Spades tattoo at the pool and once they became friends she'd told him what it meant. He'd been intrigued and they talked about her experiences. He was unfamiliar with the lifestyle but he liked her and she him.
"He's very nice and we have a strong mutual attraction. We've flirted but nothing more but I think we are ready to take things to the next level. If you are okay with that?"
"That's fine, if you are ready. I would like to be there." In the six months since Samantha's time in rehab we had found a new dynamic that worked well for us. She had relinquished control and I'd assumed it. I'd always been naturally dominant and she was mostly submissive. We'd gotten wrapped up in the cuckold experience but a Stag/Vixen dynamic felt more natural after all that we'd been through.
"I am and honestly, I want you there. I can't imagine playing without you now."
"Tell me about Joe, what is he like?" My conversations with him had been superficial and I wanted to make sure he was really a good guy.
We talked for over an hour before making our way upstairs. We were both pretty worked up over the possibility of a new experience with someone who seemed genuine and we made slow, passionate love for almost an hour.
"Have him come over this weekend. I'll smoke a brisket, we can have a few drinks and see what happens. No pressure, no expectations, but endless possibilities," I said as we basked in the afterglow. Samantha had recently resumed drinking wine but she had kept it in check and we both monitored it closely to make sure it didn't get out of hand.
Joe arrived Saturday at 6pm and we ate dinner shortly thereafter. Samantha had told him to bring his swim suit in case we wanted to enjoy the hot tub since it was a cool, crisp fall day and after we ate we sat on the deck drinking and talking.
Joe had lived an interesting life. He'd been born on an Air force base in Germany. His father was an African American airman and his mother was a native of Germany, which explained his striking hazel eyes and mostly European features. He'd moved around a lot as a kid and had graduated from high school in Colorado before attending the Air Force Academy. He'd spent 25 years in the Air Force, retiring at 46 and was working at the Pentagon for a government contractor.
We talked shop and Samantha flirted with both of us. It was a surprisingly welcome change from our last lifestyle experience and sometime after 9pm she suggested that we go for a soak.
"Where should I change?" Joe asked as he rose to his feet. At 6'3" I wasn't used to looking up at people but he was several inches taller than me and I had no choice.
"We don't need to wear anything," my wife giggled. Her tolerance for alcohol had clearly gone down and I could tell she had a bit of a buzz when she lifted her dress over her head, dropped her bra to the floor and walked down to the patio in a skimpy black thong.
Joe looked at me and shrugged as he unbuttoned his blue oxford shirt and unfastened his jeans. He sat down for a moment to slide his cowboy boots off, bringing him a few inches closer to my height and then walked out to join my wife as she settled into the hot water and turned on the jets.
I stripped down to my boxer briefs and joined Joe on the patio as my wife looked us both up both up and down. He was five years my junior but we were both in great shape for our ages. He was trimmer with less body fat and more of a runners build where as I was broader and more muscular after years weight lifting.
"How did I get so lucky," Samantha purred as she slid to the middle seat and asked us to take off our underwear and join her.
