DISCLAIMER: This story features a wife that takes control of both her and her husband's sexualities. If you are the type that dislikes this type of story and insists on making idiotic, disparaging anonymous comments, skip it and go elsewhere. If you like this type of story, I appreciate comments and private messages that let me know exactly how much you liked it...in explicit detail if you like.
I got home late, as usual. I was putting in extra time at work to make sure I kept my job. Still, I had told my wife Candy that tonight was going to be different, and it wasn't. I pulled into the driveway about 8:30, and the house was quiet and dark.
There was a note taped to the front door with my name on it. "Your clothes are laid out on the bed in the guest room. Grab a shower in the guest bath and get ready. I'm in our room. Don't bother me until I'm ready. We're going out. The kids are at Trish's overnight."
My wife was being unusually directive. It wasn't like her, but it was having a positive effect on me. I was half hard in the shower, wondering what she had planned. She had laid out a dress shirt and slacks for me. Nice clothes, but nothing special. I got dressed and waited in the living room for her to come out. It was 9:45 by the time our bedroom door opened.
My wife was simply stunning, a vision of glamour from head to toe. She was wearing a short black cocktail dress with a deep scooped halter top, black stockings and strappy black sandals. The dress showed off her bare back from the tie of the halter top to the small of her back. The material of the dress was shimmery, like silk, and flowed across her pale soft skin as she stepped toward me. She had obviously visited the salon that day for a French manicure, and to get her long blonde hair done in a loose, flowing set of curls, partly pinned up by an ornate silver hair pin on one side.
I was speechless as I stood up to greet her. Her makeup was perfectly done, not understated, but not garish either. It showed off her delicate features perfectly. I regained my composure enough to let out a low whistle. "Wow, baby, you look great..."
I was about to ask where we were going when she put a finger to my mouth to silence me. She looked serious. "You're late...again."
I started to stammer an apology. She interrupted, "I don't care. No more excuses, tonight is my night. Do you like the new dress?" She spun around with her arms outstretched, causing the hem of the skirt to swirl around as she moved. I caught a glimpse of stocking tops, and it was obvious she wore no bra, as I got a good look at the sides of her naked breasts when she spun.
This was totally unlike her. She was normally conservative and shy. "Well, do you like it?" she asked impatiently as I gaped. My dick was making a tent in my pants, but she wasn't looking there for her answer.
"You look amazing, just amazing!" I leaned forward to kiss her but she gave me the same raised finger.
"Uh uh, don't mess up my makeup." I looked down at her hand and noticed that there was something else she wasn't wearing: her wedding ring. "Let's get going, it's almost 10pm and the night is wasting."
"Should I change? I feel kinda underdressed compared to you."
"It won't matter," she said flatly. "This is my night, not yours, you owe me...let's just go." I followed her out to my car. She stood by the passenger door as I opened it with the remote, expecting her to get in. I was almost to my door when I realized she was waiting for me to open hers.
"Such chivalry," she teased as I helped her into the passenger seat, her dress riding up to clearly show the tops of stay up stockings. She crossed her legs before I could see what panties she wore, or if she was wearing any at all.
"Where are we headed?" I asked as I slid into the car.
"The Bull Pen. Ever heard of it?"
"No. Where is it?"
"Up on the East side, near MLK."
"Uhhhh...." I started to object, the neighborhood wasn't great in that area.
"It'll be fine; Trish and Jerry go a couple times a month." That didn't fill me with warm fuzzy feelings. Trish was the wild child of the sisters, and Jerry pretty much went along with whatever she wanted.
When we got up to the cross-town expressway, I reached over and put my hand on Candy's knee, easing my hand up toward her still-visible stocking tops, with the intent of checking for panties. I was fully hard now, thinking she might not be wearing any. She quickly reached down and took my hand, placing it back on the steering wheel. "Don't muss up my look before we get there. Pay attention to the road."
I pouted. She giggled at me. "If you are trying figure out if I'm wearing panties, I am. New ones you've never seen. A little black g-string, see through. Satisfied?"
I was throbbing. When had the aliens come and replaced my wife with this wanton person?