Several years ago, my wife and I flew cross-country to a high school friend's wedding. This was to be his second marriage. We originally planned on finding a nice motel in town, but received an invitation from Pete, the best man (one of my best friends in high school), to stay at his place, a 3-bedroom house with a pool in the back yard. He was recently divorced a year prior and would welcome the company, and we were still early in our careers, had a young family, and were always looking for ways to economize. We accepted the offer.
We were greeted by Pete at the airport with big hugs. Even my wife Carly, who had never met Pete before, got a very big hug. Carly, whom I've discussed in another story ("Our First Time"), was a pretty woman. At 5'4" and 110 pounds, she still had a nice figure after 10 years of marriage and 2 children. Her breasts were natural and just right for her shape and height, being firm in spite of having had kids, and on the smaller size. She has short, brown hair, and killer green, 'fuck me' bedroom eyes. Luckily for me, she also had a sexual appetite that went along with those eyes. She couldn't ever seem to get enough sex with me.
We got our luggage, and had a very short drive to Pete's house since he lived close to the airport. One thing about Carly is that she always seemed to have the ability to hit it off with friendly strangers, almost making them feel as if they'd known her for a long time. The rapport between Pete and Carly was no different. They hit it off right away, chatting up a storm during our short ride.
Once we got to Pete's house, he showed us around, and then to our room where we took a few minutes to get settled in. Our room would be right across the hall from his bedroom. Once we emerged and found our way into the kitchen/dining room, we met back up with Pete who was sitting at the bar, pouring us all some wine to help take the edge off our trip. In no time at all, Carly picked up where she left off on the ride home, engaging Pete in banter, asking him untold questions about his life. Pete welcomed the interrogation and seemed to enjoy talking about himself, even answering the few questions she asked about his divorce. She found out that Pete's wife had left him for another man, and, to our surprise, that Pete had not had another woman in his life since then. Understandably, he still needed time for wounds to heal and to get reacquainted with himself.
Carly doesn't drink often or much, so it doesn't take much to get her feeling tipsy. When she gets tipsy, she loosens up quite a bit, and her persona takes on a slightly different nature. After a couple of glasses of wine (a couple of rather full glasses), her persona began to change as if on cue. Her 'personal space' disappeared, and she began occasionally and lightly touching Pete during conversation as if his space disappeared, too. She became even more talkative and much friendlier to the point where you would have thought that Pete and Carly had been old friends from high school.
I had to leave the room a couple of times, coming back to find them engrossed in their conversation, and staring intently at each other while talking. I thought to myself, "Uh oh. Pete's getting the full force of those killer 'bedroom' eyes." Our conversation remained, for the most part, rather innocuous.
But Carly did boldly manage to ask a couple of penetrating questions, such as, "When you say you haven't been with a woman this past year, do you mean romantically or physically?" or, "How difficult is it to have been married with regular female companionship, then suddenly go cold turkey?"
Pete didn't bat an eye. He answered the former, "Both," and the latter, "Quite difficult at first, but it's getting better."
Our conversation didn't seem to go much longer after his answers because we had a dinner/dance party in honor of the bride and groom to go to with more of my school friends and others, and we had to get ready. Having stayed up later than Carly the night before, finishing up packing, and getting up extra early in the morning before Carly to get everything into the car, I was quite fatigued. I opted to take a short nap before I went to dinner, otherwise I knew that I would struggle to make it through the night. Carly didn't feel the need for a nap, and chose to begin getting ready. When it was time to go, I was still quite tired. Pete suggested that I sleep for another hour.
Carly looked concerned about us being late. Pete quickly said it would be okay because they weren't going to eat right away, and suggested that perhaps she could ride along with him and explain to the others at dinner that I'd be along a little later in his other car. Carly mildly objected at first, but gave in when Pete said it would be a good opportunity to ask him any questions about me as a teenager. Carly (or the wine) giggled a little at that, and said, "That's a great idea."
Carly dressed to the nines, wanting to make a grand first impression on my friends. She wore a sleeveless/backless, red, one-piece, belted dress with a slightly-plunging neck line, red satin high heels, and pearls that hung down slightly past where her modest, but noticeable cleavage began, almost as if the pearls drew your attention to that spot. Being backless, it was obvious that she was braless. With her breasts being the perfect size, she usually didn't have much to worry about. If she had to lean forward slightly, you could maybe get a glimpse of a little more breast, but not enough to see any of her nipples, which were dark and about the size of a half-dollar. She was a little concerned, but I reassured her that she was fine. So off they went to the dinner, while I shut my eyes for a little more sleep.
I awoke later than I had planned, dressed quickly and headed for the restaurant where I found Carly and Pete enjoying themselves at the bar with another couple. I approached them and offered my apologies for my lateness. Carly reached for my hand, flashed me a smile and told me not to worry about it, that Pete had introduced her to several of the people, and that they were just passing the time away in conversation at the bar. It turned out that the couple was Pete's younger sister Rachel, whom I also knew from high school, and her husband, just in from out of town.
They had come straight from the airport to the restaurant, but they were heading back to Pete's place afterwards to stay with him in his third bedroom. I was just a little uneasy because Rachel and I had gone together for a little while in high school and had sex quite a few times during that brief romance. Carly knew nothing about this, nor did I want her to know. After a quick drink, it was time to be seated for dinner.
Dinner came and went quickly, followed by a few speeches, a few more drinks, and then dancing. I noticed that Carly's demeanor had not changed one bit since drinking the earlier glasses of wine at Pete's. In fact, she seemed to be a tad bit more outgoing than before. I asked her how it was going. "Oh, fantastic!" she replied, "You have nice friends, and Pete had a load of information about you! I also have had more to drink and am feeling just fine!"
Now I was really worried. Just what did Pete tell her?! "Uh, how much did you have to drink?" I asked. She told me that she had three more glasses of wine. Good lord, she never drinks that much!!
I danced with Carly throughout most of the evening, with Pete asking permission to dance with her a few times. Of course it was fine with me. With Carly being 'wine-friendly', it was certainly alright with her.
When Carly and I danced, she held me very, very close during the slow songs, and we nuzzled and kissed a few times. When Carly drinks, she also gets very amorous with me. When she and Pete danced, while they weren't as close as she and I were, they were still somewhat on the close side, much closer than new-found friends would normally be. It must have been the wine.
I also couldn't help but notice during the last dance what appeared to be Pete looking down a number of times. I thought to myself, "I'll be damned. He's trying to look down her dress!"
A mixture of emotions hit me all at once. I was just a little bit jealous. This, after all, was my wife! But that thought was quickly met with the remembrances of when I shared her in a ménage-a-trois with my friend Paul in the Marines ten years earlier, and only shortly after we got married. That thought brought out feelings of dry-mouthed lust, where your mind begins to race and your heart begins to beat wildly. I could actually feel my cock begin to stir, and shifted in my seat to hide my growing bulge. Damn! I couldn't believe it. I was getting that same sexual arousal as with the Paul experience.
The evening came to an end, and Carly and I drove together back to Pete's house. I chuckled and commented on how openly friendly she was tonight. Her face turned red, and she replied, "Oh, you have no idea!"
I asked what she meant by that. She told me that, while on the drive to the restaurant, she and Pete had a very engaging conversation about me. She was learning things that she never knew, going on and on, asking more questions.
Throughout that drive, Carly said, Pete kept looking over at her, sometimes for long moments, and she began to become concerned about their safety. As they were getting close to the night club, she realized that one of the two buttons at the top of the front of her dress had come undone. What was supposed to be a slightly modest view of cleavage was now a full-blown view of her entire breast, nipple and all. That's what he was staring at.
She refastened the button without saying anything, acting as if nothing happened. Then she noticed that he was sporting a large hard-on in his pants. This caught her off guard, but she quickly surmised that it was because he was turned on at the sight of her tit.
After a while, she mustered the courage to ask him how long her dress button had been undone. He replied, "From the beginning. It must have come undone when you got in."
"Why didn't you say something?" she asked.
"Are you kidding? And ruin the great view?!" was his response. "Besides, remember that it's been a while since I've seen one," he said.
"Obviously!" she replied back, nodding at the erection in his trousers. They both had a good chuckle.
Then Pete apologized. Carly told him not to worry, and that she felt very flattered that someone would still want to look. "Oh, you have nothing to worry about there," Pete said. Carly said she could feel herself blushing. And for the rest of the ride, all she could do was furtively glance at his unflagging hard-on, getting aroused by the moment.
As I was listening, I became aware of that same dry-mouthed lust that I experienced in the restaurant. I was actually turned on at the thought of another man seeing my wife's naked breast, and perhaps even as much so at the thought of her being fixated with his hard-on. I had to press the issue.
"How hard and how big was it?" I asked.
"I don't know," she said, "It wasn't out. It was just sticking up under his pants. But it looked like it was a big one, a thick one. And it HAD to be very hard to make that kind of tent!" I became hard in no time, too.
She saw my rising cock and came to the immediate realization of what effect this conversation was having on me. She began to chide me a little, kidding me about what it was that was making me hard. She wanted to hear me say something that was difficult for me to say...that it turned me on to think of her with another man.
She changed the subject by asking me why I hadn't told her about me and Rachel. I asked her, "What about me and Rachel?"
"Don't play games with me, Mr. Hard Dick. I know all about it!"
"Pete tell you?" I asked.
"Well, kind of," she said, "He inadvertently blurted out that she was coming to stay with us, too, and hoped that I didn't feel too uncomfortable with the idea. I asked if there was a reason for me to. He apologized and offered that perhaps he said something that he shouldn't have. But I got the picture. So, did you two fuck a lot?" She never uses the word 'fuck' unless she's horny. And between the wine, the conversation, and her ride over with Pete, there was no doubt in my mind that she was horny.
"Yes, we did what teenagers do when they're young, virile, and new to sex. We fucked every chance we got," I replied, "Our hormones were raging!"
"Kind of like mine are doing right now!" she said. I reached over, worked up the hem of her dress, and worked my hand up to her panties. She slightly raised her hips out of the seat and pulled her dress higher so that I could get better access. My fingers found the edge of her panties and worked their way inside to her pussy lips which were, by this time, juice-soaked. Although I couldn't get my fingers in very far because I was driving, I was able to work her juice all over her pussy, and to caress her love bud. She began to moan and writhe a little in her seat, humping her hips on my hand.
