Hannah and I have been going out for over five years now. We're not married technically, we're both pretty young for it these days: she's only 23; I'm approaching 30. But still, 5 years is a long time when you've been seeing a girl since she was 18. It wasn't like I was her first, not even nearly her first, but there had been a lot of years of monogamy in between. And recently our sex life had started to flag, we still had it fairly regularly, but a spark seemed to have gone. Even our favourite, where I fuck her from behind while she plays with her clit, she can come two or three times like that before I pull out and wank myself over her back, seemed to have lost something.
She's got a slightly broad back, but only through athleticism: she goes to the gym near enough every day; she's as toned as it gets actually, but just the soft side of muscled, still with enough woman about her to turn heads. Hannah has small tits, but so hard, with nipples that only need to feel a suggestion of a breath to become like bullets. She's about 5' 10'', feathered blonde hair, something slightly foxy and pointed about her face, but pretty, with pure blowjob lips.
When we've been apart I've always had this fantasy about watching her with someone else. It gets me hard in an instant to picture some faceless stranger pressing her up against the wall while he tackles her tight snatch. She's almost bald down their, natural light hair shaved into one, finger thick, line that demands you follow it. I've told her about the fantasy before, but after a lazy Sunday morning of mediocre sex I decided it was time to tackle it.
"How would you feel," I said, "if I wanted to watch you with another man?"
At first she laughed, but then when she saw the earnestness in my eyes her own widened.
"You really think you could handle it," she said.
"I think about it all the time, I want to see you being fucked. I want to feel a pain in my stomach when you come. I want to see you chomping on a cock so fat you can hardly get your lips around it."
"Oh my word," she said, a little startled, "you're really serious aren't you?" and she moved down to suck on my already stiffening dick, which was all the affirmative I needed, and a prelude to the best sex we'd had in months.
Saturday night two weeks later, and Hannah is dressed up like a slut. She's got suspenders on for the first time in years, the tops of which don't quite reach up to her little black dress. Only just shy though, natural looking on her long smooth thighs, but enough to suggest that she wants it. Normally she wears a wonderbra, a bit of padding to make her clothes fit better, even though I think her tits are great. Now the nipples are poking uncovered into the thin material, and I know she's already turned on by the idea of what might, or probably will, take place.
We go into the club together, but move apart as soon as we reach the bar. I order a pint and watch her shoot two Dutch courage tequilas before starting on a gin and tonic. A few guys approach her almost right away. A succession of fat but hopeful businessmen, who should know better than to try their luck with a girl like her, however easy she looks. Maybe they think she's a pro, I wonder, and savour the idea for a minute. Or a future date.
Soon though she's chatting to two youngish lads; between her age and mine I'd say. They've just walked up to the bar for a drink, not to pull her, but naturally she draws their eyes. One's got a shaved head, chiselled cheeks. The other deliberately styled blonde bed-hair, which probably took twenty minutes of work to look so careless.
This is it, I think, both of them are good looking; stylish but underplayed. Rather like me. Just what Hannah likes. Either I stop it now or I have to trust my feeling that I can deal with this, that I'm going to like this. I keep watching, and feel a tinge of disappointment when nothing happens, they just chat. But the men move to either side of her, making her the focus of conversation, and it becomes clear there's a rivalry: both of them are trying to get in with her.
Hannah looks at me, and seeing a flicker of a nod or maybe just the look in my eye, she places her legs either side of shaven head, where he leans at the bar, touches her hands on his hips and kisses him. For close to a minute he tongues her, trying to get deeper, her pulling back, brushing lips, how she likes it. Me getting hard. Suspicions confirmed: I want to see her fucked tonight.
