Nick:
Nick lived in a smart penthouse apartment, top floor with a beautiful view. He was single and made his money by trading stocks and shares on the markets. Age 30 and he still wasn't attached to any particular girl. He liked his freedom but he also had a secret: he preferred older women, mature, more experienced than most of the girls he'd dated.
He walked into the bar. It was evening and most people had already eaten. He perched himself on a bar stool and ordered a beer. The glass mirror on the back wall behind the row of bottles gave him a view of the room behind him. There were some dark corners and he spotted a couple sitting in a booth, in the corner, out the way of everybody else. The couple sat opposite each other across a table. There was something about her that attracted him although, in the half-light, he couldn't put a finger on it.
A few minutes later, the woman from the booth came up to the bar and asked for two more drinks. She examined him in the mirror as if wanting to attract his eye. Nick wondered how he could open up a conversation with her. On the spur of the moment he said to the barman, "I'll pay for the lady's drinks." His voice, he knew, carried some authority, assured, confident, like a chief airline pilot talking to his passengers before takeoff.
"Why pay for my drinks?" She smiled. "Do you always do this - sit at a bar and throw your money around?" She paused. "Sorry ... I didn't mean to sound rude."
"That's ok. I have a weakness for a good-looking lady." Judging by the wedding ring on her finger, her husband was sitting at the table in the far corner of the room.
"Thank you for the drinks," she said. There was a pause while she looked at him. "Are you here on your own?"
"Yup. Admiring the view ... which right now is you!"
"You're a smooth talker." She giggled.
Nick liked her. He guessed she might be in her early-to-mid 40s. Although she was small, 5-foot with small boobs, she had an angelic face with a killer smile. Those hungry eyes sent a spasm down his body. He knew from experience that she would make a fabulous hotwife.
He said, "I would love to get to know you better." Nick felt like testing the water. "Ditch the husband and spend the evening with me."
She laughed. "Not a bad idea!" She rolled her eyes, turned and walked back to her table in the corner.
He could tell that they were having a detailed discussion with the occasional glance from the husband towards the bar. After a few minutes, the lady's husband walked towards Nick with a smile. "Thanks for the drinks." They shook hands. "My name's Ryan."
"I'm Nick. Did I just meet your wife?"
"Yeah. Come over and join us. Debbie was wondering ... we were wondering ... because you're on your own ... to chat."
Nick chose to sit on the bench seat next to Debbie while Ryan sat on the other side with the rectangular table between them. Nick realised how private this booth was with a screen behind the seats to give them some privacy. Nick discovered that the couple had been out to a restaurant to celebrate their wedding anniversary. "That's why," said Nick, "you look so lovely, Debbie, with that tight T-shirt and short denim skirt. It shows off your shapely legs." A red bra strap peeked out from under her T-shirt.
"You're such a charmer," she said. She looked him over. He wore a blue shirt to match his eyes, plus chinos with deck shoes and no socks.
Ryan asked, "You have a British accent?"
"I recently returned from London where I took a college course on 'Sex Education and the Concept of the Hotwife' which was interesting." Nick smiled as he noted the surprised looks from Ryan and Debbie. Of course, the tale about the college was bollocks but he said it to test their reaction.
"Oh!" said Debbie. "What exactly is a hotwife?"
"It's where a couple decides to spice up their sex lives by having the wife study the art of giving and receiving sex. She does this by selecting another man to teach her." Nick saw Debbie's eyes widen with interest. "The man to teach her," continued Nick, "would usually be dominant and would show her how to gain intense pleasure herself as well as giving deep satisfaction to her male trainer. The husband gains from this because his wife is expected to talk and discuss with him every aspect of her training, her thoughts and new techniques - thus making the couple's relationship become erotic."
"That sounds incredible," said Ryan and looked at his wife for her reaction.
Debbie took a sip of her drink. "I have an open mind, Nick."
"The course I took," said Nick, "trained us men how to give instruction to lady candidates. During training, the instructor takes ownership of the wife, dominates her and instructs the husband to watch and learn. It's part of the process to bring the couple closer."
"Do wives really do this?" said Debbie. "I have a good sex life so it wouldn't interest me." She raised an eyebrow at Ryan.
Ryan leaned forward towards Debbie. "Our sex life could get better. Let's be honest, we fantasise together, don't we, in bed ... about what's going through our heads? It's fun. And to talk about your progress to become a hotwife ... this could be an eye-opener!"
"Whoa. Hang on there, Ryan." She paused as if considering how much information to give with a stranger sitting next to her. "I have the occasional fling, as you know, Ryan, but I don't need instruction nor do I need you looking on."
Ryan said, "We've never tried it."
"It would be weird - you watching. Besides, I don't need lessons."
"We could try it once?"
Nick had sat back to let them talk. He said, "Am I right in thinking you both have an open relationship? You have other partners?"
"I do," said Debbie. "Ryan doesn't. It's our arrangement. The fact is I like to sometimes experience something else - I tell Ryan - we get enjoyment talking about it to spice up our sex lives." She took another drink. The alcohol seemed to have loosened her tongue and inhibitions.
Nick smiled. "So ... we're not against the idea of a hotwife ... the red line is about Ryan being in the same room?"
