I never expected or even asked my wife to consider fulfilling my ultimate fantasy. It was a real crazy one. However, when she brought it up one night in bed, and I could see she was dead serious about exploring how we'd at least go about doing it as a potential wedding anniversary celebration, I wasn't going to try and talk her out of it.
My wife Gemma is five-seven and she's a beautiful brunette with stunning blue eyes and a sexy, voluptuous body. I'm Timothy. I'm five-ten, slim, with short dark hair and brown eyes. Gemma and I complement each other in every way. We met in our early twenties and married in our mid-twenties. Our relationship has always been open, honest and fun. We like the same movies and TV programmes. We eat the same foods and we love being in each others company. Not to mention the sex is great, spontaneous and exciting at times.
We'd been married for six years at this point, with our seventh wedding anniversary only three months away. Life was going great and the sex was regular and fantastic.
After several weeks of having fun discussing, imagining and role-playing my fantasy, I quickly realised it had become my wife's fantasy as much as it was mine. She made a few minor yet significant changes and additions, but I was just gratefully amazed my wife was seriously up for doing it.
Once we'd agreed on pretty much everything, and set a few boundaries, the next step was to find a suitable male for my wife. We set up an account on a swingers website and posed as an ordinary couple. As soon as we were verified our inbox imploded. We didn't advertise our fantasy or share it with anybody immediately. We took our time sussing people out before eventually taking real notice of a guy called Clyde.
Clyde was a successful businessman, divorced with grown up children, and he was a popular guy on the site. His verifications were respectfully good, and his messages were exceptionally polite, friendly and honest. We only had one snag with Clyde. He was fifty-eight years old. Much older than we wanted for the fantasy. Gemma admitted she found him surprisingly attractive and suggested we perhaps look past his age. I think the fact he was well-endowed helped.
Clyde was six-two. He kept himself in shape and he had a full head of silver hair with a matching goatee beard. He carried himself well and even refrained from sending us dick pics. He understood finding the right guy was more important to us. Clyde actually admired and respected us for that.
We messaged back and forth for a couple weeks before detailing our fantasy. Clyde was pleasantly shocked when we opened up to him. He thought Gemma was stunning and the idea of our fantasy greatly interested him. It was something even he hadn't experienced before, despite claiming to be a swinger for the past ten years.
Just as my wife and I needed to suss out the guys we communicated with, Clyde naturally required the same in return. I eventually met up with him for a coffee so we could get a real sense of each other. The fantasy, however, required the male not meet Gemma until the night we would live out the fantasy. Clyde understood this, so they only spoke on the phone and once on Zoom to confirm everything was legit and amicable.
Three months after THAT chat in bed, the morning of the big day arrived. Our seventh wedding anniversary. Surprised by how easy we had managed to get everything and Clyde in place, my wife and I set off for the hotel where we got married seven years ago. It was only ten miles from where we lived. I say easy, but very tongue-in-cheek. The preparing and communication was as much exciting as it was nerve wracking. We checked into the honeymoon suite and it brought back so many fond memories. If Clyde decided to do a U-turn on meeting us then we'd go ahead with our original plans.
You see, the hotel reluctantly allowed us book the honeymoon suite a year earlier for a few reasons. They had no weddings planned. It was our wedding anniversary, and they remembered us. The plan was to use the spa and enjoy a romantic meal before making love until the early hours of the morning. My wife had turned all that on his head when she suggested this spicy alternative.
Mid-afternoon, four hours before I was due to meet Clyde in the bar for a drink, I showered and Gemma took a long soak in a hot bath. At 3pm I went to the bar for a bite to eat, and to watch the live football scores, while Gemma ordered room service. At 4pm the hair and make-up stylist arrived. At 5pm I returned to the honeymoon suite. As soon as I entered the suite my jaw dropped and my feet became rooted where I stood. I was completely speechless.
"Don't you know it's bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony, Tim?" Alison, the hair and make-up stylist laughed.
"How are you doing, Ali? Long time no see."
"I'm good, Tim. How are you? Congratulations by the way! Seven years!"
"Thanks. We don't know where the time has gone to be honest with you."
Alison was the stylist we hired on our wedding day. She did a flawless job with Gemma and the bridesmaids. We needed her to recreate the same style after all these years. Producing another round of excellence, I tipped her generously.
"Well, you two having a lovely evening and a lovely wedding anniversary," Alison smiled and left the honeymoon suite.
"You look incredible, Gem. I'm experiencing déjà vu!"
My wife beamed with a huge grin across her face. Her hair was just like on our wedding day. Voluminous braid. It featured soft waves beneath an intricate, twisted style. Her soft brown locks fell behind her shoulders of her lace wedding dress. The style was sexy yet unfussy. It kept any hair free from her beautifully made up face. Alison had managed to use the same colours, tones, style... everything, to recreate Gemma's look on that special day seven years ago.
Then my gaze moved lower to the wedding dress. It was Cinderella style made from lace, and just like I remembered it on the day and from the photos, my wife's inviting cleavage was there for all to see and enjoy because of it's off-the-shoulder design.
"I'm speechless!" I gasped.
"Take a look underneath," Gemma giggled.
I walked over to my wife and lifted handfuls of wedding dress. "Wow!"
Beneath the gown I found one of my wife's significant additions that weren't present on our wedding day. A sexy pair of stockings. I gathered more of the dress in my hands and lifted it higher. My cock throbbed as I was greeted with a beautiful lace suspender belt, which was attached to the stockings by four straps. Best of all I got to get a good look of her clean-shaven cunt. I then looked down at my wife's feet. Even her beautiful, closed toe stiletto high heels with lace looked sexy.
"Can I keep you all to myself?" I chuckled, dropping the dress.
"Only if you're serious?" my wife challenged me, raising her eyes before patting and fluffing her dress back to how it was.
"Your father gave you away to me seven years ago today, maybe I can give you out for a couple of hours," I joked, letting her know I wasn't in two minds about our plans.
"Clyde should be in the bar shortly. You need to text him to make sure he is coming then get changed."
"Would you like some champagne first?"
"Text him then pour us both a glass." Gemma replied, checking herself over.
I texted Clyde then enjoyed a glass of champagne with my stunning wife. He replied during our little private toast. He was ten minutes away.
"Looks like this is about to get real," I smiled anxiously at my wife. "Are you ok? No second thoughts?"
"Very real! But no! No second thoughts or doubts. Especially after all the trouble we've gone through! My wife laughed nervously. "How about you?"
I shook my head. "I'm in. You look stunning! I can't wait to see what Clyde thinks."
Gemma smiled. "Thank you, now get changed and go meet him."
After changing into a smart pair of trousers, shoes and a shirt, I softly pecked my wife on the cheek and walked out of the honeymoon suite. It felt like the longest walk of my life. My legs turned to jelly and my heart started pounding inside my chest. I got into the elevator and headed down to the bar.
There he was. Clyde. Wearing a dapper suit without a tie. He looked fit to attend a wedding. From a male perspective, he did look handsome. "Hiya, Tim." He greeted me with a firm, friendly handshake.
"It's great to see you again, Clyde." I wasn't sure if I actually meant it when I said it.
"Let me get you a drink and then I'll buy a bottle of champagne for the room," he said.
Over a pint we chatted like old friends. Clyde was great and I could tell he was going to live up to our expectations, especially Gemma's. He even bought her a gift, but he wouldn't tell me what it was. Then the moment of truth was upon us.
"Shall we go meet the bride?" Clyde suggested, as soon as we finished our pints. I inhaled deeply and rubbed my sweaty palms down the front my thighs. "Everything will be fine, Tim," he said. "It's natural to be nervous, but I know you're a solid couple. I wouldn't be here if I had a feeling this would threaten your marriage."
"I know. It's not that, Clyde. I mean, I am nervous of course, and there are no second thoughts where Gemma and I are concerned. It's just crazy that you're actually here and we're about to go meet Gemma. You... are finally going to meet Gemma."
"I'll treat her with the upmost respect, Tim, and you. You have my word on that. I know the script. I know what you both want and I'm here to give it to you. So come on, I'll get the champagne and let's go meet your lovely wife."
"Sure," I smiled meekly, accepting it was time. "Let's get this show on the road."
"That's the spirit."
