This is entirely a work of fiction. The characters presented are entirely imaginary and over 18 years of age. Any similarity to actual people or situations is purely coincidental.
WARNING!
This is a Loving Wives cuckold story about pushing limits and crossing lines.
If that's not your cup of tea, DON'T READ THIS ONE! There are plenty of other stories on this site of the run of the mill variety and many are excellent.
I'm not providing spoilers up front detailing precisely what kind of content you might find herein. Spoilers ruin the surprise.
However, if you're a read-the-last-page first type of reader and must know ahead of time what kind of stuff is likely to happen, scroll to the bottom and review the 'Tags For This Story'. If any look concerning to you, DON'T READ THIS STORY!
If you do decide to read on (despite this warning) and think things are about to go too far, please do yourself and all of us that read the comments a favor and just STOP READING.
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It was Saturday night. Free of offspring and in the big city for a concert, we were at long last adults for a night. On the walk back to the hotel after the show, my lovely wife was atypically wide awake for 11 PM.
"Let's go dancing!" she said playfully as she danced adorably on the sidewalk crowded with fellow concertgoers.
"Sure!" I replied, not thrilled by the dancing part but delighted to let the night roll on.
"Charlie's is just a couple blocks from here." I had no idea what Charlie's was, but I was game.
As we approached, as small queue was out front of the boisterous club. The throbbing music poured into the cool night with each opening of the door.
Feeling a little underdressed as I surveyed the queue, I couldn't help but notice how attractive the patrons were.
Definitely a hotspot, and I was relieved. I'm not fond of dancing actually, but the more crowded the better. I'm less self-conscious that way.
My wife, wearing a skirt and double tank top (covering her free range boobs underneath) made a bee-line for the bar and despite how crowded it was she was served immediately. The benefits of having been waitstaff I supposed. Or simply being a very sexy woman.
Once our drinks were procured, we were graced by a booth opening up. It was a nice high-backed semi-circular affair with a round table and full table cloth. Nice! Too bad, I thought, we'd be giving it up shortly to hit the dance floor.
"I brought my remote" she said over the loud music. It took me a few beats after she opened her purse to register her meaning. She'd brought her remote controlled vibe. She giggled as she reached up her skirt and slid it into her panties and handed me the remote. "Nice, right?!"
Indeed! I smiled back.
She took a sip of her ginger ale and vodka as she scanned the crowd. Still slow, I realized when she said dancing she meant with another man.
She'd had this longstanding fantasy where I'd have the remote and, while she was enjoying a dance with another handsome man, I'd remotely turn on her vibe.
As she and her partner got more into it, I'd kick it up a notch or two watching jealously. It was a fun fantasy, turning her on immensely and throwing me into alpha overdrive in the process.
I joined her people watching and, in keeping with the past five minutes, was slow on the uptake.
While the place was filled with lovelies, men outnumbered women by at least 4-1. Charlie's was a gay bar. As that thought registered, she jumped up taking the hand of a very handsome man in his late twenties. She giggled at something he said as they walked to the dance floor, her hand in his. The power, however, was in the lovely little remote nestled in my palm.
As they found their stride, I waited. I could feel her thoughts out there, as she began to grind against him: "C'mon already!"
"Not yet. Not until you think I won't" I thought.
The second song came on strong and she was getting very horny out there with anticipation.
As her partner grinded against her luscious ass, she glanced over at me pleading. I licked my lips and raised my eyebrows with a "maybe" reply. I could feel her whimper from twenty feet away. She wanted that little buzz something awful. It was time.
I pressed the on button and hoped she was still in range. Her reaction was priceless. Her eyes grew wide as she spun around and faced her partner. He kissed her on the neck, seriously pissing me off, as they continued to dance.
I kicked it up a notch in the hopes of removing his lips from my wife's neck. It worked like a charm: she threw her head back and spun around. Unfortunately, he took this as his queue and began dry humping her on the dance floor, wrapping his arms around her lovely hips.
While I delighted in the sight of her enjoying herself, my jealousy hardened as much as my cock.
I wanted to drop that remote, walk out on the dance floor and fuck her senseless. "Public place" I reminded myself. Not here, not now.
