My wife Nicole and I have been married for four years. The sex has always been great, as she is open and sharing, very flirtatious, and with a little stimulation, very horny. Nicole is 27, with beautiful brown hair and green eyes. Her 36Cs always draw stares, especially when she wears her patented low cut V-necks.
She has always been somewhat flirtatious, but has never given me any reason in the world to be jealous….. Nonetheless, when we were dating, I played the role of the jealous type more than I ever have in my life. She would always draw stares, and if I ever let her alone for a minute in a bar, she was always immediately the object of some frat boy or another's attention. A natural born flirt with a warm personality, I used to get mad if these conversations went on for what I thought was too long – it never turned into any major fighting, but she always knew that I had that jealous bone, and would usually tease me about it when I had cooled off.
Once we were married, and clearly happily with one another for the duration, I guess that jealousy bone faded, and I didn't even know it until last week.
Nicole and I went to a BBQ with a group of friends (hers mostly). There were about twenty of us there, including a guy that Nicole and a bunch of her friends had known since college – a guy by the name of Gordie, who had been a star in Lacrosse, or some other obscure sport, and clearly held the admiration of all of the girls there. I noticed throughout the day that Gordie talked an awful lot to Nicole, and as the day wore on and the number of beers everyone was consuming grew, Nicole was clearly flirting, however harmlessly, to the hilt.
For the first time in years, I felt the old jealousy set in a bit, especially after I tried to join their conversation, and felt like a bit of an outsider. Soon after, Nicole and I left, and as we said our goodbyes, I watched her give him a long, lingering hug.
"You and Gordie seemed be spending a lot of time together," I mentioned on the way home.
"Yeah," she said, not taking the denial route I had expected. "That was more time than he ever made for me back in college. Pretty funny."
"Quite a hug you got at the end of the party, too," I said.
She laughed. Now she was getting it. "Oh, I see. Somebody's jealous of the attention I was giving to another boy," she teased. "I was thinking about you the whole time," she purred, rubbing my crotch teasingly.
Now I laughed. She knew how to diffuse the situation. "I don't believe you," I said.
"When we get home, I will prove it to you," she said.
When we did get home, we went straight to the bedroom, and began kissing and fondling, while slowly coming out of our clothes. "Now do you believe that I was thinking about you?" she asked, still teasing.
"No," I laughed. "Actually, I bet you are still thinking about Gordie," I said, feeling her up.
"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked, truly unsure.
But something strange and different was coming over me. As jealous as I had been earlier, something about this was really getting to me now, and suddenly my wife's earlier flirtation was an incredible turn-on.
I leaned in and kissed her to show I was not trying to start something bad. I continued to massage her breast through her bra. "It means that I think this is what Gordie wanted to do when he gave you that big hug," I said, still rubbing gently.
"I don't think so," she said, smiling a little. "Gordie could probably do this to any girl he wanted to."
"Is that right?" I asked. "Is he that irresistible?"
"He's been around," she laughed. "That's for sure."
"I watched him as he hugged you," I said. "I saw him run his hand right over your breast," I said, lying, having seen no such thing.
"No, he didn't," she said, hitting me on the arm.
"Yes, he did," I countered. "He may as well have been feeling you up right in the middle of the barbecue."
She laughed. "You were right there. If it was so bad, why didn't you do anything to stop him?"
"Oh, so you're admitting you got felt up?"
She smiled at me. "I'm just saying you're right, he was not shy with his hands."
I had just made that part up. Was she making it up too or had this guy copped a feel not five feet from me? Either way it was turning me on in ways I couldn't explain or control.
"He really did feel you up a little, didn't he?" I asked, still caressing her, and rubbing her thighs.
"Would you be mad if he did? You know there wasn't anything I could do about it."
"No, I'm not mad," I said. "I can't blame him. You looked so good tonight, I'm sure he couldn't help himself."
"That's your answer," she laughed, incredulous. "If I go out of the house looking good, guys just have the right to feel me up?"
"If I recall," I said, working my way up to her panties now, "you are the one who offered the hug. I think you didn't mind getting a little feel."
"This is a new attitude," she said, very sexy. "If I want some guy to feel me up, it's OK with you?"
"As long as it doesn't get out of hand," I said.
She had been teasing me, toying with my chest, and finally reached down for my cock. When she found it, she found it was dripping with pre-cum, as I was enormously aroused already. She just looked me in the eye, realizing we had both found something that was clearly putting us in a great mood.
She suddenly grabbed my hand and made me stand up beside the bed. "Give me a hug," she said, "and show me what you mean by 'as long as it doesn't get out of hand'".
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"You said it's OK for another guy to feel me up," she said. "I want you to give me a hug, as if you were another guy, and show me what you would consider OK and what you would consider 'out of hand'."
"OK," I said. "If I were Gordie, and you had been flirting with me all night, and we went to hug each other goodbye"….
I reached out with both arms for a hug, but did not spread my arms, so much as move them toward her body. As I did, I made sure my right fingers slid gently over the fabric covering her left breast. When our arms were around each other, we squeezed for a moment, and as we detached, I made sure that my middle fingertip lingered and pressed right over her hard nipple through the material.
"… that would not be out of hand."
"Would NOT be out of hand?" she screamed. "Next time I see Gordie, if I let him all but pinch my nipple, you don't think it's a problem?"
"Now that you have let him feel you up once," I said, "I'm sure he is going to try it again. We just have to be aware of the boundaries."
"First of all she said, I did not let him. But more than anything I want to know what is an 'appropriate boundary'."
"OK. Next time you see Gordie – now that we both know he assumes he has won access to your breasts – I think it will be inappropriate if it goes any further than this."
I stepped in close to her, and said, in a deeper voice. "Hi Nicole. Great to see you again."
She laughed. "It's good to see you too, Gordie."
I once again approached the hug with open palms, the hug beginning at the center of each breast, with my hands making their way slowly to the sides, and finally around her back. We held the embrace for about fifteen seconds, and as we began to move apart, I kept my hands glued to her, as if the only way to pull them loose was to bring them all the way around her body. When I had reached her breasts, I dropped one hand free, and with the other hand, paused near her nipple once again, and made slow, small circles for about ten seconds before backing away entirely.
"It can't go any further than that???" she said. "But it can go that far?"
"I think we need to be prepared for it going that far," I said. "It's as much my fault as it is yours. I saw him feeling you up, and I let him do it. Now he is probably going to feel entitled to do it every time he sees you."
"And that hug you just gave me," she questioned, "that was just the hello hug? What happens next time when we have to have a goodbye hug?"
"If it goes much further," I said, loving this, "people are going to notice. So, I think you will have to find a way to get away from everybody when you go to say goodbye. Maybe you can both forget your coats in a back bedroom or something."
"Oh, I see," she said, sarcastically. "And then what can I expect as a hug?"
"Probably like this," I said, but could not be so patient any longer. I took her in my arms, and kissed her deeply. I massaged her breasts, and pulled her panties to the floor.
For a moment, or so I thought, we were not in our fantasy any more, but back to just us, her tits in my mouth, her tongue on my neck. Then she pulled away, just as I began to let my fingertips dance on her incredibly wet pussy.
"You're telling me it would be OK if this happened with Gordie and I?"
I stopped sucking on her, but kept petting. Now, I didn't know if she was serious. She was smiling seductively.
"I have to know," I said, smiling back at her. "Did he really feel you up?"
"Are you going to be mad?"
"No, of course not."
"Feeling up would be an exaggeration, but he definitely let his hand linger longer than it should have," she said, stroking me again. "He was probably just drunk."
"I know it's weird," I said, no longer in fantasy, "but right now I wish he had felt you up. I wish he had made an even bigger pass at you."
"You do?" she questioned, scrunching up her face. "Why? What would I have done if he did make a big pass?"
"I know you would have rejected him totally," I said. "But right now I wish we could be back at that barbecue, and I wish I could tell you how much it turns me on to know that he wants to grab your tits."
"Well, now you know," she said, grabbing my dick. "And I definitely believe that it turns you on."
"Would you be mad at me if I told you that I wish that after he felt you up, you could have snuck away with him, and kissed him, and let him feel you up some more?"
"Are you serious?" she asked. "That's so weird."
"What's so weird?"
"First of all, you feeling this way is weird. But also, it's weird because while we were talking he asked me if I wanted to go take a walk down to the store to buy some more beer."
"He did?" I couldn't believe it. I could not believe that this guy had been so blatantly hitting on my wife, apparently trying to get her alone, and I really couldn't believe how much I wish he had gotten the opportunity.
"Baby," I whispered, "this is nuts..... but..... God I wish you had taken a walk with him."
"Why?" she asked.
"Because then he would have tried something."
"Like what?"
"He would have tried to kiss you, feel your tits again."
"And you wish I had let him do that? Really?"
