Girls Night Out Hotwife Games

I was drifting in and out of sleep when I heard our front door close, and shortly after, my wife's heels on the parquet. It was the first Friday of the month, the day my wife and her friends had their girls' night out. It became a regular event on their calendars in the last few years. She had usually arrived home about 10 o'clock, but not this time, hence, I dozed off on the couch while waiting for her.

"Hi, Honey. I am home," she said, giggling as she plopped down beside me.

"Hi! How was your evening?" I asked somewhat groggily.

"It was good. Your wifey has been a good girl."

"Where did you go?"

"We went to Luigino's in the city, then clubbing."

"Clubbing! You never did that before. How come?"

"The girls wanted to let down their hair and dance a little."

"Which club did you go to?

"Night Owl."

"Isn't that a pickup joint? Did you dance?"

"Of course, I did. You don't go to a club and not dance, you silly boy," she said, poking me in the arm with her red fingernail.

"True. I can imagine you drew a lot of attention as you danced together dressed like that," I said, looking up and down her outfit, the outfit that was a loose-fitting sky-blue dress, barely covering her arse, had a deep V-shaped cleavage, telling me she had no bra on, and of course, she had to have her 'fuck me' stiletto sandals on her bare feet.

"Oh, no!" She replied, placing her finger on her ruby lips. "We didn't dance together."

"Are you saying you danced with a stranger?"

"I didn't want to, but he made me, and it took him three dances not to be a stranger."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, we stood at the bar, chatting and laughing, when guys started to hit on us."

"Of course, they did. What did you expect at a place like Night Owl?"

"I declined their offers of drinks and dances, after all, I am a married woman, but the others didn't, and soon I found myself standing alone. That was when I heard a deep voice asking me why I was standing there on my own, in a bar full of available men. I spun around on my heels to tell him I was there with my friends and had no interest in any other man than my husband."

"As you should, indeed," I said, nodding my head in agreement.

"Looking into his face and seeing his youthful brown eyes, his big smile, I hesitated for a second. He saw my hesitation, and before I could say anything, he took my glass from my hand, telling me that a beautiful woman like me should not be left alone in a place like that."

"Did he say that?"

"Yes, he did. Don't you think I am pretty enough to be hit on by a handsome young man?" She asked, pouting.

"You are, you are beyond any doubt in my mind. I must have lost my marbles agreeing to you going out dressed like that and not expecting men to hit on you."

"You did because you trust me, and I love you for it," she said, tenderly kissing me on the cheek.

"I do trust you."

"Besides, it turns you on seeing me dressed sexy and knowing your wife is hot."

"I won't deny it does. Hold on! Did you say, young man?"

"Yes, he looked in his early 20s, well-dressed, professional."

"That's a bit young but okay. So, what happened then?"

"Let's see," she said, and sliding off the couch, she knelt between my legs. She placed her right hand on my trackies just above my cock and started to caress it with the palm of her hand as she continued.

"Taking my hand, he led me to the dance floor and began to move to the rhythm of the music while encouraging me to follow his lead. After a few seconds, somewhat hesitantly at first, I did and soon, I started to lose myself in the hypnotic beat. At the end of the dance, I told him I'd better return to the bar and find my friends, but he held my hand and slid his other hand around my waist, pulling me close to him. Close enough to feel his breath on my neck as he whispered that he was pretty sure they would survive without me. As the slow beat of the next song began to fill the room, he held me firmly and looked into my eyes questioningly. After a moment of hesitation, I put my free hand on his shoulder, surrendering to his wishes as we began to sway. I have danced with your friends like that many times, and you never objected, so I did not feel I was doing anything wrong."

"True, but they were my friends, not a stranger. And, not to mention, I was present," I said, my cock responding to her gentle stimulation.

"That's true, but I did not see the difference at that time."

"What do you mean by 'at that time'?" I asked, placing my hand on hers to stop her from stimulating my cock.

"Well, when the music died down, neither of us moved or said anything, instead, we just stood there staring into each other's eyes, trying to read one another, waiting for the other to make a move. The tension between us was palpable. I could feel my heart beating in my chest as I wondered what he was going to say or do. When the music began to fill the room, he placed his other hand on my back, and I, my now free hand on his shoulder," she said, squeezing my shaft.

"No, you didn't. You are teasing me, aren't you?" I asked, and while I never wanted to share her with anyone, the image of her in the arms of a faceless man undeniably caused my cock to harden in my trackies.

"I know that my action did not pass the husband test, and I am sorry for that, but at that moment, the excitement, the thought of the young man hitting on me, wanting me overruled my rational mind. Can you forgive your silly wife?"

"Yeh, I guess. What happened next?" I said with nervous excitement as she pulled on my trackies, freeing my semi hard cock.

"We danced cheek to cheek, and the sensation of his hot breath on my neck made me tingle. He whispered into my ear that I was turning him on big time, and he wished I wasn't a married woman, but just holding me in his arms made his day. Then he kissed my neck, his moist, warm lips made me shiver. I did not object, and I guess, realising that he continued to kiss and nibble on my neck and ear, telling me how sexy I was, how much he would love to take me home and make love to me. He drew his head back and looked into my eyes, his sparkling brown eyes filled with lust and desire as he pushed his hard cock against my crotch. Feeling his hardness, knowing it was for me, my pussy flushed, soaking my thongs."

"Wait? You were wearing thongs under your dress?"

"Yes, of course. It makes me feel sexy, and I also know how much you love to see me wearing them."

"I do, but..." I said, feeling my cock twitch at the image of my wife's damp pussy being only separated from his cock by a few layers of fabric, but I kept quiet about that.

"Anyway, he looked deep into my eyes then tentatively kissed me on my lips."

"Say what? You are kidding! He kissed you, too?" I said feeling my blood rush into my cock. She noticed and smiled, squeezing it harder.

"Yes. I was so surprised I froze and didn't respond at all. Seeing I had not objected must have given him the courage to kiss me again, touching my lips with his tongue. In my foggy state of mind, I responded, and parting my lips I let him in. The next thing I knew was that my arms were tightly wrapped around his neck, one of his hands on the back of my head while the other squeezed my bum. Our tongues fiercely duelled in my mouth while his hard cock flexed against my damp pussy as we made out, pashing on the dance floor like teenagers. I do not know how long we kissed, but when I felt his hand groping my naked arse under my dress, I broke away from him, ran out of the club, and came home."

"You're absolutely, 100% correct. This doesn't pass any husband test," I mumbled, frowning as she began to jack me off.

"I know, but it is not my fault other men hit on your hot wife. What can I do to stop them?" She asked.

"Well, you could..." I began.

"I want you to make me forget him, unless," she said, kissing my pee hole, "you want me to be your hotwife."

"What do you mean? That's just a bedroom fantasy," I said bewildered.

"As I was getting into the taxi, he caught up with me and told me his number. I could call him to find out if he is interested," she said, wrapping her lips around my cock, her fingers around my balls.

"You're..." I stuttered as my shaft disappeared in her mouth, her velvety tongue caressed the underside of my then fully engorged cock, "...kidding me, aren't you?"

"Maybe," she said, standing up and slapping my meat with her fingers.

I looked at her puzzled, my hard phallus twitching as I watched her lasciviously shimmy to the door. She stopped and looked back smiling seductively.

"Don't make me wait for you too long, I need a hard cock. Yours or his, I don't care," she said, disappearing from my view.

This had not been the first time, and I knew that neither the last time, Lucy, coming home, would tease me like this, but she had never gone this far before. Did it actually happen? I couldn't be sure, but she always told me days, weeks later it had only been her fantasy. She always reassured me she would never do anything that did not pass the husband test, but she kept telling me stories of men hitting on her, touching her, knowing how much the idea turned me on, turned us on. This whole thing started soon after we'd played a hotwife fantasy in the bedroom that had excited both of us tremendously.

It still does, and I assume, she makes up all this to spice up our hotwife, cuckold fantasies. Am I a fool? Maybe, but at this point, I still trust her. Do I truly want to share her? No!