Her name was Nikki. Now a single mom in her late 30s, she was a friend of my wife's from their teenage years, and she was deaf. Communication in their friendship was possible because my wife's younger sister was also deaf, and thus my wife had become fluent in sign language. Even though we now lived several hours away from where Nikki lived in PA, they had kept in touch.
One summer, as we made plans for a weeklong trip to visit family in PA, the two of them searched for a time to get together. They settled on a date that Nikki's teenage daughter would be away for the night, and I was invited along. Although I did not know sign language, nor had ever met Nikki, I happily agreed to it. My wife had shown me a photo of Nikki a few months prior, and I remembered being taken aback by the attractiveness of her face; I was curious to see what she fully looked like in person.
I was not disappointed.
When we arrived at Nikki's apartment, she came out to greet us, and her beauty was stunning. She was thin and petite like my wife, but two stark contrasts immediately stood out: first, her dark raven hair (my wife was blonde); second, an hourglass figure amplified by a pair of voluptuous breasts squeezed into a tight-fitting tanktop. It was all I could do not to stare, but I knew deaf people are extra alert to establishing eye contact. When she was distracted by giving my wife a hug, I stole a quick glance at her backside, and that was tempting too.
Nikki released from my wife's embrace and smiled at me.
"Nice to meet you." I mouthed the words and smiled pleasantly as I extended my hand to shake hers. Her eyes twinkled playfully as she smiled back and put her hand in mine. Although her hand was warm, soft and delicate, her grip was firm, and I lingered there for an extra moment. She only let go to motion us inside.
Knowing that I would largely be unable to participate in their dialogue, I let them sit next to each other on Nikki's couch, choosing instead to sit in a chair on the opposite side of the room. Nikki offered to mix some drinks for all of us, and so for the initial part of the visit, I simply sat there sipping my vodka tonic while watching two beautiful women interact with their demonstrative hand gestures.
As the alcohol took effect -- Nikki had made the drinks surprisingly strong -- I soon began to notice something else. In the midst of ongoing dialogue and frequent laughter, they were becoming quite comfortable in touching each other. My wife pushed Nikki's shoulder in response to something humorous. Nikki's hand briefly rested on my wife's leg. My wife shifted positions and sat cross-legged on the couch, her knee coming into contact with Nikki's thigh. Nikki's hand rested on my wife's leg again, lingering a little longer this time.
I was intrigued, and quite surprised. My wife rarely acted that comfortable around other women, and if I hadn't known any better, her behavior could've almost been seen as flirtatious -- which couldn't be any farther away from her widely-expressed view on girl-girl relationships.
My wife had always been quite vocal about how disgusted she was by anything remotely lesbian ... even the mere sight of two girls holding hands. At the same time, she had ashamedly told me of a childhood event when she had naively made out with another girl, and -- while she didn't share details -- it seemed to involve more than just kissing. I had long wondered if her open repulsion to seeing other women together was to suppress her uncertainty about that event.
As for me, I had secretly always been turned on by the thought of two women being together, and I was subtly becoming aroused as I watched the scene in front of me. Even if it was innocent, their casually flirtatious proximity was feeding my erotic imagination -- particularly with someone as attractive as Nikki.
At one point, my wife excused herself to go to the bathroom, wobbling a bit tipsily as she made her way there. The moment she was out of sight, Nikki grabbed a white board that had been sitting on the end table and began hastily writing. My mind wondered what she needed to communicate so quickly to me.
When Nikki held up the board, my jaw dropped. To my confounded surprise, it read, "I want to seduce your wife. Are you ok w that?"
I looked into Nikki's beautiful dark eyes. They were on fire, burning with intensity. She was dead serious.
She flared her eyebrows, as if to silently ask, "Well??"
Despite the shock, I felt my head slowly nodding involuntarily. Something else was also happening involuntarily, and it was rising ... fast.
She wiped the board clean with her tender hand and quickly wrote something else. She held it up: "You wanna watch?"
Mouth still open in amazement, I nodded again, more of my own will this time.
She pulled the board back down and scribbled something. When she showed me, there was a line crossed through the word 'watch' ... now replaced by the word 'participate.' A happy-face emoji punctuated this new question: "You wanna participate?"
I swallowed hard, and looked up at her face. Her smile that accompanied the written invitation was wicked, flirtatious, and seductive. I nodded helplessly.
Nikki had just finished erasing the board when my wife returned to the living room and sat back down on the sofa. First checking to see that my erection wasn't too obvious yet, I gingerly stepped across the room with my glass and proposed a toast: "To old friends." Our glasses clinked, we all took a long swig, and then I sat back down to eagerly watch whatever might unfold.
My wife resumed her signed conversation with Nikki. Minutes ticked by. Refills got poured into my wife's drink. She seemed increasingly oblivious to the fact that Nikki was subtly moving closer and closer to her on the couch. At one point, during a bout of laughter about some inside joke unbeknownst to me, Nikki rested her hand on my wife's thigh again ... but this time, didn't remove it.
In a stunning development, my wife put her hand on top of Nikki's hand, and squeezed it tightly.
They stopped communicating, and looked deeply into each other's eyes. You could cut the tension with a knife.
And then, to my utter amazement and erotic delight, they simultaneously leaned forward in slow motion and pressed their lips together in a passionate kiss.
My hardened cock nearly burst through my jeans, but they had only just begun. Nikki curled her hand behind my wife's neck and held her tightly as their tongues explored each other's mouths with a remarkable intensity. Subtly, with their lips engaged, Nikki slowly raised my wife's hand up to her breast. When Nikki slid her own hand away, my wife's hand remained there. And began massaging it.
An overwhelming rush of warmth flooded my body. I couldn't believe my eyes. My homophobic wife was fondling another woman's breasts.
As fascinated as I was by what I was watching, my stiffened dick reminded me that it was aching for release. I undid my zipper and fished it out. With an instinctual sigh of relief, my cock sprung free, and stood at full attention.
Unashamedly, I started stroking my hard-on as I watched Nikki's hands begin roaming over my wife's upper body. Completely engulfed in the wicked pleasure of the moment, my wife let Nikki pull up her shirt, unhook her bra strap, and willingly expose her breasts. They were a familiar sight to me ... but never like this. I was ready to explode.
When Nikki's lips left my wife's mouth to instead devote attention to her nipples, my wife quickly pulled her shirt up and over her head, and also discarded her bra, moaning in ecstasy as Nikki sucked her tender nubs. My homophobic wife was topless and receiving attention from another woman.
Not to be outdone, Nikki pulled back and hurriedly removed her tanktop as well. To my surprise, and utter delight, I immediately discovered that she hadn't been wearing a bra. With a gasp of appreciation, I was gifted an unhindered view of her beautiful firm breasts. My wife was gifted the same view, but closer. And, somehow, seeing her friend's breasts made her suddenly aware of the moment.
As if alarmingly regaining moral consciousness, my wife sat up straight, backed away from Nikki on the couch, and stammered, "What am I ...?"
Suddenly remembering that I was also in the room, she whipped her head sideways to look over at me, and began to formulate an apology: "Omigosh, I am sooo ..."
However, the look of guilt and regret on her face quickly changed to puzzled bewilderment when she saw me stroking my fully-extended cock. "Wait, what are you ...?"
I smiled warmly. "Go ahead," I said softly. "No need to apologize."
My wife was still in a state of confusion, trying to determine what on earth was happening, when Nikki gently grabbed her head and pulled her back into a kiss. My wife resisted this time, withdrawing from Nikki's succulent lips to take another look at me: my face, then my engorged cock, then my face again.
She seemed to be lost in the wilderness of her mind, desperately searching for direction and/or permission. I borrowed a phrase from Nikki to provide both: "I want to watch you."
My wife looked tentatively at Nikki. Her old friend smiled graciously back at her. My wife looked again at me, but this time I saw something different on her face: Confidence. Desire. Courage. And an awakened lust.