This event happened to me a few years ago and had a profound effect on my life – especially my sexual life.
My husband and I were driving to Las Vegas, Nevada, for an experiment I’ll tell you about in a moment, and were out in the middle of nowhere when another car suddenly came up behind us and began flashing its lights at us. Unsure if it was an unmarked police car or another motorist in need of help, we pulled over and stopped.
But when we did, we realized it wasn’t that driver who was in trouble, but ourselves: As soon as our car had come to a halt, steam began billowing out from under our hood – our engine had overheated, causing a hose to burst – and we hadn’t noticed it because our speed simply swept the escaping steam under the car. The driver was simply trying to alert us to a serious problem.
Gary (the other driver’s name) also stopped and, after seeing what the problem was, drove us to a nearby small town to get help. Since he had also been headed for Las Vegas, he offered to wait until a towing service brought our car in and we knew what the situation was.
It turned out we’d have to wait at least a day before the garage there could fix it or arrange to get a rental car from another, bigger town further down the road for us.
We had no choice but to spend the night in this small town. Gary said he’d had enough driving for one day and he, too, decided to get a room. The three of us walked to a nearby, nice-looking motel and got two rooms – adjoining, as it happened.
Now close to 7 p.m. and dark, everyone was getting hungry so my husband and I offered to take Gary to dinner as a way of saying “thanks” for his help. He said he’d be happy to join us for dinner but it wasn’t necessary for us to treat.
Over dinner, Donald (my husband) and I learned Gary was an Air Force officer who’d been heading back to his base near Las Vegas when our paths crossed on the highway – and the more we talked, the more we both liked him. He was handsome in a rugged-looking way, seemed to be muscular, and had a self-deprecating wit that I found very attractive.
As the waitress cleared away our table, my husband and I exchanged discreet nods and Donald excused himself, saying he had to go to the men’s room. We had agreed earlier that I’d make the approach to Gary.
Now, alone with this handsome man in his late 30’s or early 40’s (my husband and I were both 27), I found myself very nervous and tongue-tied. I finally took a deep breath and told Gary our story: Donald and I had both been raised in very religious families and were virgins when we married five years earlier. Our sex life at the start had been OK, but not great.
In the last two years, however, our sex life had just about vanished. Donald found it increasingly difficult to, well, get “it” up.
Counseling hadn’t helped, a thorough medical exam which turned up nothing hadn’t helped, porn videos hadn’t helped, me in sexy lingerie hadn’t helped – in short, nothing seemed to help.
In desperation, Donald began wondering if things would change if he watched me make it with another man. My answer then was an emphatic “no,” but as time passed with little or no sex, I wasn’t quite so emphatic. In fact, I’d begun thinking anything would be better than nothing.
And so this Las Vegas trip was to be our daring experiment: Go out for an evening, meet a man (although neither of us knew quite how to go about doing that) and invite him to have sex with me while Donald watched. But now, we felt we didn’t have to go to Vegas and cope with all those uncertainties because we’d found the right man to experiment with – Gary.
“So,” I said to him, my eyes looking straight down at the table and my throat dry as dust, “would you like to…you know…oh god, I don’t how to say this…to, to…go to bed with me…to have sex with me? And let my husband watch us?”
Gary looked at me just long enough to make me worry I’d made a big mistake. “I’d love to,” he said at last, reaching across the table and taking my hand in his. “You’re a beautiful, sexy woman,” he said, “and I’m flattered you want me. I’d be very happy to go to bed with you. I think we’ll have a good time together. But are you sure your husband can handle that?”
“He’ll only watch,” I said quickly. “He won’t interfere. He’s really hoping it will stimulate his libido.”
Gary nodded. “OK,” he said, “I’ll try to make it interesting for him. I can think of some things that might turn him on, but just follow my lead as we get into it, OK?” I agreed.
We met Donald in the lobby – Gary’s arm around my waist told him our proposal had been accepted – and went upstairs to our room.
“What are you wearing under that dress?” Gary asked, running his fingers lightly across my bottom as we walked down the hallway. “Panties and pantyhose?” The unexpected touch startled, but also thrilled, me. “Both,” I answered.
“Well, when we get inside the room,” he said so quietly only I could hear, “take off the hose and give them to me – but leave your dress and your panties on. I’ll want to take those off you myself, at the right time.”
My heart thumped. I realized I was on the verge not only of having sex, something I’d been wanting badly for so, so many months, but also sex with another man –while my husband watched!
Inside the room, Gary was cool, cool, cool as he turned on the bedside radio and motioned me into the bathroom to remove my pantyhose while telling my husband to strip down to his boxer shorts.
When I handed Gary the pantyhose, he used the legs to lightly tie Donald’s wrists to the sides of the one chair in the room. “Donald,” he told him, “this is more for effect than for a serious tie-down, so don’t get nervous. Just concentrate on what happens between me and Laurie. The ground rules are ‘look but don’t say a word.’ OK?” My husband simply nodded assent.
When a slow song came on the radio, Gary asked me to dance. He took me in his arms and we danced as primly as if we were at a church social. I was nervous enough to begin with and starting to wonder if this was really such a wise thing to do, so I was glad he hadn’t immediately jumped on me as soon as we’d gotten into the room.
I sensed [italics] he [italics] sensed my anxiety, that I didn’t just want to rush into things, and so he was clearly trying to calm me.
In fact, it wasn’t until the second or third dance that he pulled me close, pressed his face into my hair and gently bit my ear lobe. Only then did his right hand slip down from my back to my waist and, finally, to my buttocks. “Your hair is beautiful and you have a very sexy ass,” he whispered and began gently kneading it.
As we made a turn, I saw Donald’s eyebrows were halfway up his forehead at the sight of Gary squeezing my buns.
Gary kissed me lightly at the end of the dance and smiled at me. “You’re lovely, really lovely,” he said as we both sat down on the edge of the king-sized bed. He took me in his arms and now his kisses lasted longer and became stronger. His tongue gently licked my lips and then pressed itself into my mouth. My heart rate jumped again.
After several minutes, his hands began roaming all over my body – my hair, my throat, my shoulders, my back, my hips, my legs – everywhere, that is, but where I thought he’d be touching me: My sensual zones.
His slow, easy approach threw put me at ease. It startled me a little, though, when he slid a hand up under my skirt. He moved sloooowly, and lightly, pushing my skirt toward my waist and revealing my bare thighs until he stopped just short of my pussy (a word for my female sex I’d had always thought of as vulgar and had never used before meeting Gary). Having arrived almost there, he stopped and brought his hand back down to repeat the move, this time up the other leg.
As the kisses and these teasing touches continued, and my skirt kept being pushed higher and higher on my thighs, I really started getting into it. I was returning Gary’s kisses with greater and greater passion. In fact, I got so lost in the kissing and the touching that I suddenly wondered when it was going to lead to more.
I soon got my answer. Gary’s other hand found the zipper on the back of my dress and began pulling it down just as slowly as he had been running his hand up and down my thighs. With a slight smile, he told me to stand up. I did and my dress fell to the floor.
Now, in just my bra and underpants, my breathing became quicker and shallower. I unbuttoned his shirt and he took off it, tossing it to one side, but I wasn’t bold enough to unzip his trousers or touch his sex. I stole a quick glance down at the front of his trousers and saw there was a sizeable bulge there.
I also got a glimpse of my husband, no more a few feet away: It’s a cliché, I know, but Donald’s eyes were indeed as big as “saucers.”
Gary undid my bra and discarded it, making a low “mmmm” as he stared at my bare breasts. My nipples were hard and he brushed first one and then the other with the tip of his nose before taking one gently between his lips. The sensation jolted me and I gasped involuntarily.
He kissed, sucked and nuzzled each in turn for many long, wonderful minutes before I felt his hands moving downward and his fingers hooking inside the waistband of my panties. I didn’t have to guess what was next; I raised my hips so he could take them off.
Which he did, dropping to a kneeling position on the floor in front of me and pulling them down, again, ever so slowly. As he slipped them over my ankles and tossed them over his shoulder in Donald’s direction, I was now totally naked – and a hot flush spread over my entire body.
I realized I’d become very, very wet through all this, wetter than I had ever been before in my life. I was afraid Gary would think I’d peed in my pants.
He gently but firmly spread my legs wide. “You’re beautiful,” he said. Just as he had earlier run a feather-light hand up along the inside of my thighs, now he slid his tongue along the same path.
He started at my knee and slowly moved upward until I could feel his breath on my pubic hair (again, my heart rate spiked). He sniffed my aroused sex and exhaled deeply before moving to my other thigh, where he repeated this long, lingering, upward lick. He rubbed my pubic bone with one hand as the other hand strayed back up to my nipples to tweak and twist them between his thumb and forefinger.
I don’t recall how many times he did this but the excitement was becoming unbearable.
Unexpectedly, he then kissed my pussy and I almost hit the ceiling in lust. His tongue began making back-and-forth patterns on my vulva, again and again as he’d whisper words like “beautiful… wonderful …soooo sexy….lovely.” Every few licks, he would stick that tongue between my swollen labia and my heart rate would jump another 100 beats.
