Our marriage had entered its sixth year and, although we had a solid marital union, it was showing signs of entering a phase of accommodation and becoming a boring routine, my husband neglecting sex, which, if not rare, was at least scarce. O Delio catch me in bed only once a week or even less than that. And doing his "obligation," fulfilling his duty, in a very banal way, a couple of kisses exchanged between us, I opening my legs, he entering with his penis, gave a few strokes without much energy and released a very thin cum.
This was how many of our marital evenings were going. Not without sex, per se, but without good quality fucking, with lousy sex. Not satisfying.
I needed more sex.
I dreamed and fantasized about great erotic adventures.
In my deliriums, when my husband was not present, I would even take off my panties and masturbate, lying down with my eyes closed, thinking not of him, but of being fucked by another, a very virile stud, strong, with a big cock that would leave me satisfied and well possessed by both sides. What my husband was no longer doing.
Psychologists and counselors say that in situations like this, marriages need a revitalizing shock before the sexual routine becomes permanent.
Our shock came casually.
A friend of his got divorced and threw a small party, gathering friends in a bar to make official his return to single life.
We went, that is, I went too, with him, because although in principle it was a "men's party," a typically masculine environment, a pretext for a great drunkenness among old acquaintances, Delio decided to take me, arguing that I needed to have some fun.
I didn't worry about dressing up fancy, considering it was just a bar full of men drinking.
I put on just the basic set of lingerie - bra and panties (not even new he was) - and a dress just above the knees, with a normal neckline. Nothing too sexy or too exciting.
Still, without being worried about showing off me or seducing and pleasing men, but just going to a social event with my husband of six years, I experienced the biggest - and best - sexy and sexual adventure of our marriage.
There were very few women there, it was really a men's event, with the guys, single and married, talking loudly, drinking, remembering old loving conquests.
We got drinks and while Delio was greeting old friends and chatting with them, I watched that bunch of men chattering away and drank more than my usual amount. I rarely go past one cocktail. This time, I had three or more, I am not sure. And the strong ones, with a lot of alcohol.
At a certain moment, two guys who were near us looked at me, smiled and waved their beer glasses, indicating a toast from a distance. Which I reciprocated, in a polite and social manner.
They took it as encouragement and approached me. They were two black men, about my age (31). They asked me to dance and I went.
We got drinks and while Delio was greeting old friends and chatting with them, I watched that bunch of men chattering away and drank. And I drinking too. More than my usual amount. I rarely go past one cocktail. This time, I had three or more, I am not sure. And the strong ones, with a lot of alcohol.
At a certain moment, two guys who were near us looked at me, smiled and waved their beer glasses, indicating a toast from a distance. Which I reciprocated, in a polite and social manner.
They took it as encouragement and approached me. They were two black men, about my age (31). They asked me to dance and I went.
Initially, the more choreographic type of dance, where people stand apart, making movements and twisting their bodies, releasing energy and joy. I liked it, it was a long time since I had gone out and had fun, and it was good, even more so after the drinks had kicked in.
Soon, however, the music became romantic, suitable for dancing for two.
One of them tied me up and danced with me, cheek to cheek, bodies closely entwined.