This is a story of a couple who, unplanned, stumble in to a double cheating situation full of nasty extramarital sex, with a little cuckolding involved. If that's not for you, I suggest moving on to other tales.
It started with a bet.
I had been working out of town for a couple of weeks, and was delayed in my return home by a few days. It so happened that we were due at the wedding of a friend's daughter just a few hours after I got home. The wedding was fun, there was the usual beauty contest among the younger women, and a few of the more mature ladies as well.
After leaving the reception, My wife, Jenny, and I stopped for a drink at the Sheraton bar. There we ran into Jim and Beth, two down-the-street neighbors about our age. We had all just left the wedding party upstairs, and several other bar patrons were part of the same crowd, keeping the party going. I was planning on driving home, so I was pretty sober, but Jenny had been drinking more than her usual two glasses of wine, and was acting kind of goofy.
She seemed to be having a good time, I was happy to see it. She had been upset with me earlier because I had missed her birthday with my delay in returning, due to a work crisis. We'd had to cancel a romantic overnight getaway that she'd really put a lot of time into planning. It didn't help that my secretary had been traveling with me, and my wife had made no secret of feelings of jealousy towards her.
Jim and Beth, sat down at our bar table, and were having a conversation about the wedding, idle chat, when two bridesmaids walked in with guys wearing tuxes. One of the bridesmaids was smokin' hot, dressed and made up to kill, and turned every head. She wore a skin-tight blue dress, it was so tight that you could almost read the tag on her thong. And she definitely had a thong, you could see shadow of the tiny thing disappear into that perfect ass.
I make it a point not to stare, but must have lingered a second too long on this girl's ass. That's when Jenny elbowed me. "Miss chasing little girls?" She teased. I turned to my beautiful 38-year-old wife, taking in her 5'7, 135 pound frame, draped in a sheer red dress with a black lining that showed every curve. Her shoulder-length auburn hair was styled behind one ear, and her makeup set off her clear blue eyes. One eyebrow was arched at me, waiting.
I laughed it off, "no, honey, just thinking what you'd look like in that dress."
"You mean that thong," she retorted.
I smiled at her, busted. But I glanced down at her legs, tucked under her barstool, and admired the sheer stockings, following them up to the hem of her red dress, wondering what she'd worn under it. I raised my eyebrows, and she teasingly lifted the hem just enough for me to see the garter belts holding the lace trimmed top of the stockings.
I choked a little on my drink, Jenny is usually so conservative that I was surprised to see that she'd worn such a sexy get-up, much less exposed it in public. I looked over to see Jim staring at my wife's legs, but Beth was turned around talking to another guest. He saw me, and gave an apologetic shrug, but glanced again before turning away.
That started the old single-man single-woman conversation, where women always assert that it's easier for a man to get laid than a woman. Ridiculous as that opinion is, they always maintain that the man holds all the cards.
"We have to wait for you to make the first move, or we're a slut!" chirped Beth, now drawn into the conversation along with her friend, Amy, who had joined us.
"Yeah, you guys can approach anybody you like," Amy added, "We're at your mercy."
Of course Jim and I held that all a woman had to do was look at a guy and he'd break his leg running over. And that was just meeting. If she wanted to leave with him, done. Get laid, hell, half of us would buy her dinner and a car. It was all up to her, guys don't say no.
We'd all had several drinks, but I was still surprised at the conversation. I couldn't recall my shy wife every discussing anything sexual with casual friends before. I looked at her closely, her bright red lipstick shimmering on her full lips, her cheekbones flushed a little red with self-consciousness. She looked incredibly sexy, and I got a little wood right there.
Finally, I said, "Baby, you could walk up to any guy in this bar, right now, and if he wasn't with a woman he'd walk out the door with you in 5 minutes and screw you. It's all up to you.
I knew that she was a little drunk when she answered, her eyes had a glint of annoyance that showed when she was tired of arguing.
"Want to bet?" She challenged.
That stopped the conversation. They all looked at me, what could I say? I had no idea what we were really betting on, but I couldn't back down. "You're on."
Jenny swallowed the last of her wine in a gulp and stood up. I thought she was headed to the ladies' room, but she set off towards the bar. There were 3 young guys sitting there, dressed in suits, drinking beers and watching football on the TV.
She leaned over a barstool, as if to catch the bartender's eye, but turned to the three, and said something I couldn't hear. They laughed for her, all three now fully turned towards my wife, and a conversation began.
Who was this woman? This wasn't the wife I knew, flirting with 3 guys at a bar, bending over showing off her sweet ass to the rest of the crowd. The dress rode up enough to see the lace tops of the stockings, and she made no move to pull it down. I felt the eyes of the table on me but had no idea what to do.
Finally, the bartender came over to her little group, so I thought she'd head back to the table, but the conversation continued, with him joining in.
One of the guys turned to the bartender, who bent over the well as they bantered, and he produced 5 shots. Jenny laughed and shook her head no, but the nearest of them took her hand and wrapped her fingers around one. I knew what he'd really like to wrap those fingers around.
The four men downed their shots, and all turned their attention to my wife. She laughed again and lifted the shot glass to her lips. She paused there, with a nervous hesitation, then threw her head back and downed the liquor. She immediately lowered her face with a grimace, and coughed with the burn, then raised the glass triumphantly over her head. But nobody saw the glass, they were all staring at her amazing breasts.
The bartender made a motion as if to offer another round, but she shook her head no, then laughed and turned to return to our table.
She sat down and poured another glass of wine. We all waited. Nothing. "Well?" asked Amy.
"Well what?" She gave me a sour look.
I was a little tired of her attitude, her little game. We all looked at each other, back at Jenny. "Well, Jenny, do those guys want to fuck you?" I asked.
"Really, Michael? Fuck me? Real nice. Fuck your wife. What are you talking about? I just asked one of them about the football game!" Now she looked pissed. A little pissed, but a lot drunk.
But she blushed as she said it, like she does when I catch her in a lie. Then she added, "but he does want me to leave with him." And smiled.
Now I was more confused. But a little cocky. "See, I told you. Easier for women. I win."
"Well, maybe easier, but that doesn't mean he would sleep with me."
"Seriously, honey. What, he wants to take you putt-putt golfing? What do you think leaving with somebody from a bar means?"
"Well, I wouldn't know. I'm not the one who's travelling twice a month, staying at Sheratons with your 'work mates' and hanging out in bars."
Now she was getting herself pissed again. Time to defuse. "OK, Jenny, you win the bet. Ready to go?"
She gathered her purse, picked up her phone, and stood up. Said goodbyes, and started to walk from the table.
"Just a second, I have to pay the tab," I called to her, but she didn't look back, just walked over to her "friends" at the bar. I watched her expression change, her hard set lips now spread into a soft smile, and she tossed her hair as she leaned in to the first guy, speaking softly right into his ear.
I knew the effect she was having, her perfume, her warm breath, breasts just touching his arm. He turned suddenly, as if surprised, and glanced over towards our table, where I was trying to both watch and flag down the waitress. They exchanged a little back and forth, her giggling and touching him, him smiling and turning towards her. Then she abruptly stood and walked out of the bar towards the lobby.
I was relieved, still not sure what the whole act was about, and addressed the waitress and the check. We all paid up, shook and hugged, and walked towards the lobby and valet stand. I noticed as I passed the bar that the young man who my wife had spoken with was no longer with his friends.
I handed the valet my ticket as I looked around for Jenny. Just as I turned to the street, I caught a glimpse in the reflection from the doors of a red dress and long legs stepping into the elevator, and I turned back in time to see the doors closing and a man in a suit facing sideways, with a woman's arm draped over his shoulder. Couldn't be. But Jenny was nowhere to be seen.
The car arrived, and I told the valet to give me a minute. Amy, Jim and Beth walked up, and I asked if they'd seen Jenny. They exchanged a strange look, and Amy told me, "Well, we might have seen her get into the elevator."
"The elevator?" I got a sick feeling in my stomach. "Are you sure?"
Again they shared a look. Jim said, "Pretty sure, man. With that dude from the bar. "