A Woman of Her Word

After incredible nights of constant fantasizing and incredible sex, the housewarming party finally arrived last night. At work yesterday, I could concentrate on nothing, as my stomach kept turning in loops, and my cock kept growing in my slacks, as all I could think about were my wife's horny promises.

To recap, we attended a barbecue two weeks ago in which my wife ran into an old classmate from college named Gordie. I watched Gordie and Nicole talking and flirting all evening, and got incredibly, inexplicably aroused. At the end of the party, as they hugged goodbye, Gordie discreetly snuck a feel of my wife's breast. When we talked about it later, we both surprised each other with how much it turned the other on, and how much more than just the simple brush of fingers across her tit we both wished we had to talk about.

After several nights of imagining what Nicole could allow Gordie to do next time we saw him, she finally broke through all the walls of hesitation. Convinced that I really wanted it, she promised to do everything in her power to see to it that a number of sexual things would happen at the housewarming party, as the event was being thrown by a mutual friend, and we knew Gordie would be attending.

When I got home from work last night, I found her waiting for me at the front door, and, in a mutual state of excitement, we began kissing at the front door like we hadn't seen each other in months. "I feel used," I said, breaking the kiss.

She laughed. "What do you mean?"

"I know you're just practicing on me, so you're ready to do this to that other guy tonight."

"I bet he doesn't even talk to me tonight."

"I bet he's going to do a lot more than talk to you tonight."

"I've got to get dressed," she said, smiling, and ran off toward the bedroom.

A few minutes later, I made my way back to the bedroom to see what Nicole had picked out for the evening. She had obviously been planning it, as she was nearly dressed already. She had on a fairly short black skirt with black sheer hose, and a tight bright red shirt whose neckline dived aroused toward the line of cleavage certain to grab any man's attention. She looked fantastic.

"God you look good," I said, bending over and kissing her on the back of the neck as she pulled up her hose. "There's just one thing I want you to change."

"What's that?" she asked.

"No bra tonight. You don't need it."

"I'll look slutty without a bra," she protested.

"No you won't," I said. "You'll look even more sexy. When you're in a big crowd, you can just wear your jacket."

She stood and looked at herself in the mirror. I grabbed her and began kissing her again, slowly working my hands through her hair, gently on her face, down her neck, rubbing her shoulders, and finally to the crest formed where the neck of her shirt ended at her breasts. Slowly I worked my fingers inside the material of the shirt, caressing the exposed area of her breast. As I slid my fingers further, I stopped as I ran into the knit of her bra.

"You feel so good," I whispered. "But I don't want your bra to get in Gordie's way."

She squeezed me tight, whispering also. "Are you sure you want to let him do this? If I take off the bra, it's only going to make me horny tonight. Are you sure you want me to go to this party horny, with my tits on display?"

"Yes. I want your tits to be on display." I slowly reached in the back of her shirt and unclasped the bra.

"Why?"

"I want you to get Gordie's attention again. He's going to remember feeling you up a couple weeks ago, and when he sees you tonight with your tits pressed tight in that shirt, and your nipples poking through, he's going to know you liked it. He's going to know that you want it to happen again."

As I said this, she slowly reached in through a sleeve and pulled the bra free in that easy manner only a woman can.

"I have a plan," she whispered, rubbing herself against me.

This took me completely by surprise. A plan? How much time had she spent dreaming up ways to give her body to this guy? However long, I knew it was nowhere near the time I had spent, and it turned me on like crazy to think that she was plotting to find ways to do……. God knows what. "What's your plan?"

"We're supposed to bring ice cream," she said. "To go with the pie for dessert. But we're going to forget."

I understood immediately, and felt my stomach tying in knots at the implications of this. She was REALLY going to go for it.

"And when you have to run down to the store to grab the ice cream," I said, following her lead, "you're going to take Gordie with you."

"Only if you tell me to," she said. "I'll do what you tell me to."

"What if I tell you to take him to the store with you?"

"Then I will."

"If I tell you that when you get down to the car I want you to kiss him?"

She looked at me strangely. "Me to kiss him?"

"If he doesn't try it first. To let him know it's OK."

"I will be very flirtatious and I will let him kiss me. That was our promise."

"OK. Remind me about the rest of your promise," I said, sliding my hand slowly up her skirt, and feeling how hot she was already.

"No. You tell me," she cooed, grinding her hips into me. "They're your rules. What are my promises? You have to remind me now, because we might not get a chance to talk about it once we're at the party."

I couldn't believe how hot I was getting, and I really couldn't believe how hot she was getting. Even though this kind of talk had been driving her crazy every night for two weeks, this was different. We were going to see the man of our fantasies in less than an hour, and she was on stimulation overdrive.

"OK," I said. "I want you to promise that once you are alone with him, you will let him explore your whole mouth with his tongue."

"I promise," she said, kissing my neck as she listened.

"I want you to promise that tonight your tits belong to Gordie."

"Belong to him?"

"Yes. If he wants to squeeze them, rub them, pull up your shirt to enjoy them, lick them, kiss them, suck them, I want you to let him. And I want you to let him know that you enjoy it all."

"Oh, God. I promise," she said. "What else?"

I slid my fingers all the way up her skirt now and found the puddle that was her panties.

"I didn't know if you really wanted him to get to enjoy your pussy tonight," I said. "I thought that maybe you would decide that was too far."

"You did?" she asked slowly, with a trace of disappointment.

"I wasn't sure until just a few minutes ago," I continued. "But when I came in here and saw you in this skirt, I knew you did it to make sure he would know your pussy was available."

I began fingering her just a little now, slowly, teasingly. "Isn't that true?" I asked.

She simply moaned and did not answer. "It's OK, baby," I said. "I love you and I love that you want to get fingered tonight, but I want to hear you say it. Isn't it true that you wore a skirt tonight to make it easy for Gordie to make a move on your pussy?"

"Yes," she moaned, without missing a beat.

"Oh, God," I moaned, knowing I should be putting an end to all this, but driven so wild by the idea that I wouldn't dare.

Nicole looked me in the eye. "Is that OK? Do you want me to wear something else?"

"No, baby," I whispered. "I love what you're wearing. I love knowing that your pussy is probably going to get spread tonight by a brand new set of fingers, or even a brand new tongue."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Nic," I whispered, "your pussy is too damn hot, too delicious for me to keep it to myself forever. I want you to share it with someone who is going to really enjoy it."

She was so excited by this she was shaking. "Do you think I should go without my panties too?" she asked. This was not something she would normally say, let alone do.

"Do you want to?" I asked.

"I think so," she said. "I want to be able to keep all my promises to you, and I know how horny I will be all night if I am not wearing my bra or panties. As long as I can stay that horny, I can do my best to keep my promises."

I slowly reached up inside her skirt with both hands, and she wiggled a little to help, as I pulled the black lace panties down her legs and laid them on the bed. I looked down at her there with her shirt pulled so tight it looked like her breasts were ready to burst. Her nipples looked like thimbles pressing against the flimsy material, and her skirt was pulled up just enough that her swollen lips were glistening against the light of the room. She looked absolutely beautiful – like nobody I ever could have imagined laying here like this for me. And now, rather than simply tearing her clothes off, skipping the party, and spending the night ravaging my gorgeous wife, I was pleading with her to shed her undergarments so that she would be sure to let this arrogant stranger know that her every inch of flesh was available to him tonight.

It is not a phenomenon I can explain, but there I was, looking at this portrait of incomparable beauty, hot and horny, and thinking, with excitement, that another man might very well get exactly this view later in the evening while I sat in a crowded room waiting for my wife to get back with the ice cream. Every promise she made sent a spasm of intense jealousy coursing through my system, but those spasms all somehow ended up as fuel for that great fire of arousal I felt at the thought that my wife had put on a skirt tonight in hopes that this cocky ex-jock might finger-fuck her, or more.

"You're so wet," I whispered. "Are you so wet from thinking about a new tongue licking you clean?"

"Yes, baby," she said, with no hesitation. "I can't believe how good it sounds."

It seemed like the drive to the party took hours. I kept looking over at Nicole, smiling, encouraging. I was thinking that prior to two weeks ago, I never would have thought the shirt she was wearing would be appropriate to wear to an occasion like this braless. Even with her jacket pulled over her shoulders, there was no mistaking the incredible protrusion cast forth by her nipples, as an intoxicating mix of desire and cold had rendered them permanently perky.

I found a parking spot and leaned in to kiss her before exiting the car. "You look so fucking hot."

"Tell me one more time," she said. "I really don't think anything will happen, but tell me one more time what you hope happens."

I looked her right in the eye. "I hope Gordie is here tonight, and I hope you flirt with him, rub up against him, let him know that you hope that tit-grab he made last time was not the last. I hope he asks you to take another walk, or agrees to go with you to the store, and I hope you get lost somehow – at least that's what you will tell the rest of us."

"What do you want to be the real story?"

"I want the real story to be that he attacked you with kisses. That he went to put his hand up your shirt and you did nothing to stop him. That he lifted your shirt all the way up to your neck and just set your tits free so he could lick you and suck you and bite you. I want the real story to be that while he was devouring your gorgeous breasts, he began to try to climb with his hand up your skirt. "

"I can't believe I don't have panties on," she panted. "What else do you want to hear?"

"I want to hear about how surprised he is when you spread your legs even wider, and he discovers that you have no panties. That you tell him that you didn't wear panties because you knew he was going to be here. I want the real story to be that you stop him right there, tell him you have to get back to the party. That you make a date with him some time very soon, maybe even later tonight, where you promise him a wonderful blow job if he will finish with his tongue what he started with his fingers."

Nicole stared back at me. "I am so incredibly wet," she said. "Are you sure you want all that? Are you sure you can handle everything you're asking for?"

"I'm not asking for it, baby. I am begging for it. I want it that bad."

We entered the party in a bit of a haze, but things returned to normal when we were amongst the few people at the party that we know pretty well. Nicole immediately grabbed a margarita, and pulled her jacket tight around her, suddenly self-conscious about her lack of apparel. I got to thinking that this was probably going to be little more than a fantasy we could use for several more weeks to get ourselves worked up, but that reality was an entirely different game.

Nicole and I made small talk, and I noticed that there was no sign of Gordie. "I don't think you're wearing any panties," I whispered to her at one point. She gave me a false angry glare.

In the middle of our private playing, the attention of the room turned toward the front door, where Gordie, the "irresistible" charmer (and a salesman, of course) had entered the room. He hugged the host, and shook a couple of hands, and I wondered if Nicole was suddenly feeling as strange about our fantasies as I was.

Gently, she poked me in the ribs. I lowered my head to her and she whispered "Is that who my tits belong to tonight?"

I looked at her wide-eyed as she downed the rest of her margarita in a big gulp. "Yes," I mouthed, and she laughed.

Part of me wanted to bend down and whisper that it was all off, everything was just a fantasy, and it was over now. But, everything was not just a fantasy. My wife had worn a tight-fitting shirt with no bra, and a short skirt with no panties, and had admitted it was in hopes that this real man would see it as an opportunity to make her his sexual plaything. That was not a fantasy. Thinking about her running her fingers through his hair as he kissed her naked body was still a fantasy, but it was a fantasy that I could not keep myself from craving desperately.

So, I stepped away.

I had been at my wife's side since we got to the party, but as Gordie approached, I simply stepped away toward the small table of hors d'ouevres to leave her to her own defenses.

I watched him approach slowly, and watched her turn, her face suddenly aglow, as if she had just noticed his arrival. She threw her arms wide, and I watched carefully as he moved in for a hug. He wrapped her up and pulled her close. I didn't see anything that was suggestive of friendly fingers, but it was a hug that went on longer than the occasion called for. "I'm so glad you're here," I saw her say, and my heart began racing.

She was not being nearly so cautious with her jacket now, and even from halfway across the room, I could see her pert little nipples at full attention, beaming out at Gordie, not two feet away.

Feeling like a bit of a spectacle all by myself, I struck up a conversation with a small group where I could keep an eye on Nicole.

She was laughing, and touching him A LOT. Touching his arms, touching his shoulder when he said something funny. Leaning in to hear better when the room was a little loud, and pressing against his chest. From the two protrusions that never withdrew from her shirt, I could tell that the effect of not wearing any bra or panties was, indeed, lasting all night for her.

After a few minutes, I saw her making her way toward me. I stepped out of the small group and turned to her.

"Gordie just got one of those new Nissan SUVs," she said, raising her eyebrows at me. "He's going to take me to have a look at it."

My heart leapt into my throat. Nicole had absolutely no interest in Nissans or in SUVs. They had chatted for all of about ten minutes – she had had just two drinks, and she was heading off into the incredibly cold evening, sans bra and panties, entirely alone with the man I had been begging her for two weeks to share herself with.

I leaned in to whisper. "What are you going to let him have a look at?" I asked.

"I'll let you know," she said, with a mixture of excitement and nerves.

"Have fun, honey," I said, my knees feeling weak.

She waved to him that she was coming, and leaned into me, whispering quickly.

"Honey, the way he keeps looking me up and down, like he knows I'm not wearing anything underneath, or like he knows it's for him…… if you want me to stop this, you have to tell me right now, because I think when I go out to the car, he's going to make a move."

"Have a good time, and tell me all about it," I whispered back, despite the fact I thought I was going to lose the cheese and crackers I had just consumed.

She raised her eyebrows at me and smiled, then scampered off toward Gordie, who held the door open for her, as the two quietly disappeared from the house.

I looked around the strange party, and everyone was carrying on as if nothing had happened, as if this was just a normal cocktail party, as if my wife had not just gone off, full of tequila, and without underwear, to jump in the car with a handsy guy for the sole purpose of offering her body to him.

It's hard to describe the next fifteen minutes: the excitement, the pain, the anticipation, the jealousy, the hard to conceal hard-on, the two trips to the bathroom, the feeling that I had just risked my wife on a spin of the roulette wheel, and was waiting for the ball to fall. After ten minutes, it became clear to me that she was in his arms. There was no reason to be gone that long.

A couple my wife knows tried to engage me in conversation, and I nodded and feigned laughing, and had no idea what nonsense they were trying to impart. I only knew that my horny wife was somewhere with a horny single guy for whom I had begged her to undress, for whom I had begged her to swallow his cock.

Finally, they came back in together, and nothing really seemed out of place. She didn't look disheveled, he didn't look like he needed to zip back up. Finally, I felt my lungs fill with air again, and felt a moment of foolishness for bubbling over when all Nicole had likely done was taken a little spin in his new car.

She made her way over toward me slowly, and I motioned with my head for her to follow me to the empty kitchen.

She met me in the kitchen, and blew me a kiss with her lips.

"Did you have a good time?" I asked.

"Are you having a good time?" she asked.

"I don't think that's the important question right now," I said, laughing.

"Actually, I think it is very important. Are you OK with everything?"

"What is everything? Did he try something?"

"Yes," she said, with a serious expression. "He did try something."

Despite the near collapse of my heart in my chest, I managed to arouse the adrenaline of all my fantasies coming to life, the rush of crossing that line.

I smiled at her. "Was he successful?"

"Yes," she said. "There wasn't much in the way to stop him."

"Stop him from what?" I asked.

"Are you sure we are still OK?" she asked.

"We're perfect," I said, comfortingly. "I want to hear about this. There wasn't much in the way to stop him from what exactly? Please tell me."

"From my body."

"I am so hard right now," I stammered. "He touched you?"

She began to relax a little. "Yes."

"And kissed you?"

"Oh yeah."

"Where did he touch you?"

"Remember when we agreed that my tits belong to him?"

"Yes."

"Well, he definitely staked his claim," she giggled.

I was speechless for a moment. Nicole looked down at her chest.

"Is my shirt on inside out?" she asked, smiling at me wickedly.

"How far did it go?" I asked.

She leaned in to whisper the answer to me.

"We took a little drive, pulled over, and he told me to switch with him, and try driving the car. We started trying to switch by climbing over each other inside the car since it was cold, and we ended up pinned against each other. Just like that we were kissing, and his hands were exploring, and then he had my tits in his mouth and his hand moving up my skirt."

"What did you do?"

"I did what you told me to."