It Happened One Night 12

It happened one Night

I was at my bar, the one that caters to the less refined elements of society; elements I lived next door to before success upgraded my life to a better neighborhood. They were still my people. I was copping a serious buzz with my drinking buddies when my wife walked in. She'd been at the male stripper review at the local casino with her annoying slut girlfriend, Beth. My wife, Carly, sidled up next to me and whispered in my ear, "Honey, we need to go."

My hangout was mostly a place men went to gripe about their wives because they didn't have the relationship skills to work anything out. I was there to gripe about my wife going out with her aggravating friend, Beth, one of the things we hadn't worked out.

I'm Steve, by the way. I'm an average Joe. Some women find me handsome and some don't. Carly finds me handsome and that's all that really matters to me. All men, on the other hand, seem to be attracted to Carly: 5'6" of leggy blond, one of THOSE asses, slender waist, perfect tits, in my estimation, smallish but pert and cute with large nipples. She had all that with a really cute face and a dangerously inviting smile. We'd been married for eight years, but a problem was developing, aside from Beth.

Beth was Carly's very sexy and very slutty best friend. I actually didn't mind the sluttiness, and in fact hoped it would rub off on my wife, but if my wife was actually going to do anything slutty, I didn't want Beth to have anything to do with it. If that makes me sound neurotic, well, maybe so.

Beth would do things she knew would piss me off. For instance, and this is just one of many for instances, they would be going out together and I would ask my wife not to stay out too late and to check in periodically so I wouldn't worry. Beth would make sure she didn't get in till after 1 a.m. and that no call home was made. I never knew whether Beth was seriously fucking with me, or my wife was blaming stuff on Beth that she had just as heavy a hand in. Beth got her little digs in whenever she could, always accusing me of being too controlling or not trusting my wife.

I actually had everything to do with how things played out that night. It started two years ago when bedroom boredom had reached mind numbing proportions for me. In Carly's defense, she was open to anything as long as it only involved the two of us. She did like the attention she got from other men when she went out with Beth, but brought the resulting need for cock home to me. That's why I tolerated Beth.

Eight years is a long stretch for monogamy and "anything" the two of us could think of had run its course. The positions ran out first; it's not like we were into yoga and constantly gaining flexibility. Lingerie got explored and porn and toys. Fantasies got explored and role playing became a thing.

Our favorite role play centered on my wife fucking other men. When surfing porn on the net I always gravitated toward cuckold or slut-wife porn, which seemed to turn Carly on as much as me. In our favorite role play she would play the part of a bored housewife. She would go into a bar ahead of me and I would stroll in, sit down and hit on her as if we were strangers.

Our conversations were ad lib, but we both put thought into it ahead of time. We both thought the game was fun. One time, after introductory small talk, she said, "You know, to be honest, I'm here tonight because my husband thinks it would be sexy for me to go out and fuck a stranger."

I responded, "That's interesting. Tell me more about that."

"He says the thought of being married to a slutty wife turns him on."

"What do you think about it?"

"At first I just thought it was weird and crazy, but then I started imagining how sexy it would feel to be married and let other men fuck me."

"Sounds like you're reconsidering."

"I'm definitely getting more curious, and I do get wet when I think about it. My friend Beth tells me how much she loves being loose and letting lots of guys fuck her."

Then she slid her hand up my thigh till it was touching my granite cock. "Feels like hearing about sluts turns you on."

"Yes, uh, what else does your husband say turns him on about you being a slut."

"He says if I was a slut he would always be horny and turned on by my needs."

"I'm imagining you'd go out and get picked up, then when it was over you'd take a shower and be all squeaky clean for hubby."

"You'd think, but that's not what he describes. He wants me to pull my panties up over my cum filled pussy and come home like that. He wants to see what I taste like after I've been out fucking. He's wants me to be dominant when I come home and humiliate him by bragging about my sexcapades."

"What a kinky fuck he is."

"I haven't done anything like that, but can you imagine how erotic it would be. I fantasize about getting my pussy filled by a lover and then make husband clean it with his tongue. That thought brings out a real dominant streak in me."

"Think you'll ever do it?"

"I just need to find a guy man enough to take me in the men's room and fuck my cunt full."

That time we were both so hot we ended up heading straight to the men's room where I fucked her in a stall. We went home after that and I pretended I had been home waiting for her. "How did it go sweetie," I asked.

She walked over and said, "Why don't you get on your knees and look up my dress. I think you'll see how it went."

More than once we did it in the car in the parking lot. We both found it exciting, but my need to go further haunted me and in fact was inflamed instead of satiated by our sexy games.

More and more I wanted her to actually fuck a stranger and I brought it up often. Little did I know, she was sharing all this with Beth. I'm sure Beth was plotting big time from the first mention of me wanting Carly to fuck other men. I'm sure she would love to have had Carly as a slut buddy, and I'm sure she coaxed Carly in that direction with tales of her slutty adventures. If it wasn't for the friction with Beth, I probably would have enlisted her help with Carly. The two of us could easily have come up with a plan.

I decided to take another shot at convincing Carly to, well, to be slutty on more than a fantasy level. I planned a surprise dinner. I knew some romantic gestures would be helpful. Prerequisite wine was called for and I brought two bottles of her favorite Tempranillo up from the basement. It was Saturday and while she had a leisurely day shopping, I prepared a fantastic meal, got out the candles and set the table.

She came home in a great mood and was thrilled that I had prepared her favorite, and my specialty, lasagna. We enjoyed the dinner, toasting to shopping, love, good food and wine. After the meal I fixed her favorite cocktail, a dirty martini. It seemed appropriate as I intended for our conversation to get very dirty.

I didn't mind paying for the extravagance of her shopping expeditions, but I asked for something in return, that she dress very sexy when she went shopping, and enjoy the attention she got. I would ask her about the attention when she returned home. It seemed like a step in the right direction, and who knew what might happen.

We sat in the living room and I complimented how available she looked in her slutty clothes. She was still dressed in the clothes she went shopping in: a very short dress that fanned out from the waist down. It came an inch below the bottom of her stocking tops, but being thin material it didn't take much movement to reveal her stocking tops and more. She wore white bikini panties my favorite, white stockings and white garter belt. The light yellow dress had a red belt that set off her red high heels. She looked like a high priced prostitute, or a high class slut.

We sat on the couch and sipped our after dinner drinks. She sat with one leg pulled onto the couch and her dress hiked up. Her panties were in full view, and she knows what that does to me. I brought the conversation around to sex by asking if anyone had hit on her at the mall. She said, "I've come to like dressing this way for you," she said, "but right now that's as far as I'm going to go, and yes, I get hit on. It turns me on if that's what you want to hear."

"I do like hearing that."

"Don't you ever feel like you're playing with fire? What if I meet an irresistible hunk who wants to fuck?"

"You could act like Beth."

"You hate Beth."

"I don't hate her for being a slut. I like the free spirited rebelliousness that sluts have, the way they seem to be wagging their middle finger at society's roles and expectations for women. I dislike that she seems to take great joy in pissing me off."

"She just loves to rib you because you're my husband, not because she has anything against you."

"I bet she has a plan for you."

"She has mentioned she wished we had an open relationship. She also said you seem like a guy who would enjoy having a slut for a wife."

That comment troubled me. "Why would she say that?"

"I may have told her a few things about your fantasies."

"Fucking great! I feel you're like feeding information to the enemy."

That pushed the wrong button. "You're a confused mother fucker," she said, playfully, but with enough seriousness to trigger my defenses. "You're trying harder than Beth to get me to be a slut."

"Your right. I resent Beth for no good reason, really. I'll work on it."

"And anyway," she said. "Beth also says you'd love it but you couldn't handle it."

"Of course I could," I said defensively. "There would just have to be rules and stuff."

"Yeah, and that's what Beth said too, that you'd take a good thing and wreck it with rules. She's got your number, and she definitely knows men."

I felt like I was losing a chess match. "Rules would make sense."

"According to Beth,"

These were three words I never cared to hear.

"Men's rules are all about men's egos. She said the rules would change or have additions every time you felt a pang of jealousy. It would be all about who I can fuck, when I can fuck them, what I'm allowed to do and not do. It would be all about you not being able to handle it. That's why I'm not going to be a slut for you."

It was aggravating that Beth was right. "Forget Beth for a minute. What do you want?"

"I have fears about the potential consequences if I fucked around. I would worry it might tear us apart. Do you care?"

"Staying together means everything to me."

Truth is, Carly was very jealous, and I knew some of her hesitancy was about that. She brought it up right on cue.

"If I was fucking other men, would you still be willing to be faithful to me?"

"Men?"

"Yes. What if I was fucking several different guys? I'm asking because if I start down that path that could end up being the situation. I lost track of how many men Beth fucks."

"That doesn't surprise me, but the thing is, no other woman could turn me on like a wife who is a slut."

"Beth tells me her slut stories and it makes me so hot. You're both wanting me to be a slut and I'm thinking about it all the time now."

"What are you thinking?"

"That if I do it I'll like it, a lot."

"So what's the problem?"

"I also fear that if you see how much I like it you'll get jealous and you'll want me to stop."

"Still," I said, "Nothing ventured nothing gained."

"See, you're not getting it. If I like it the way I think I'll like it, and you ask me to stop, it's possible that I would only switch to fucking behind your back. I'm just saying it's possible. If that happens we're on our way to divorce. You will have to convince me that you'll have a handle on any jealousy that pops up. Are you sure this is a door you want to open?"

"How about this. You fuck one guy and we'll see how it affects us. I'm sure that one won't trigger you sexually to the point where there's no return to monogamy. I'm sure I'll be jealous, because men are programmed that way, but I think my feelings of eroticism will tell my feelings of jealousy to sit down and shut the fuck up."

She leaned in and kissed me, a long, wet kiss with lots of tongue. Then she said, "That's how I would be kissing other men, at least before I start sucking them off. Do you really want other men dumping loads in my mouth? You know me, I'll come to need those loads. Are you really ready for that?"

"There are risks, but isn't the lull we are both feeling in our sexual relations also a threat to our survival as a couple?"

We'd gone over my kinky desires in our very verbal foreplay, where I would confess my desire to slide my cock in her very messy, just fucked pussy. I would tell her how hot it would be to watch her get fucked good by a man with a much larger cock than what she was used to, and what a turn on it would be to feel her stretched out pussy. Sometimes, especially while we were fucking and the heat of passion was in control, I would tell her I would love to watch her service a group of men. In the heat of her passion she would think it all sounded exciting, but once the passion wore off she was back to, "Let's play it safe and keep these things as fantasies."

"I still say you couldn't handle it," she said.

"We won't know unless you accept my dare to fuck someone."

"Fine. Next Saturday."

She didn't exactly spell out what she meant and I needed pussy too much to go into it at the time. I just hoped it was what it sounded like, a promise to go out and get fucked.

After that I fucked her hard on our couch and with her promise on my mind, didn't last long. We watched some porn to get my libido back, and then she pretended like she'd been out and told me she needed to be cleaned. We made love till late and neither of us said anything about "next Saturday" the next day or in the days that followed.

I definitely had mixed emotions about her actually doing what she promised. It did trigger jealousy, but it triggered desire for her to be a slut even more.

Come Saturday morning I watched her get dressed to go shopping. As the morning was a bit brisk she picked out a gray sweater dress, very short, soft, stretchy, tight fitting material with matching leg warmers. I hadn't seen this outfit and it looked hot. Under it, her black bikini panties and below it black high heels. I wondered if they would let her in the mall dressed that hot.

She draped her black overcoat over her arm and I followed her to the door, wondering if she would say anything before leaving, such as "Are you sure you want me to do this." I went to give her a peck on the lips but she turned so it landed on her cheek. "I don't want my lipstick messed up," she said. She stepped out of the house without mentioning her promise. She did look over her shoulder and smile as she walked to her car. The smile said, "It's on," and I hoped it was, in spite of my battle with mixed feelings.

It was 11 a.m. and I tried to keep myself busy. I had the urge to call her and call it off, admitting I couldn't handle it, but then I thought, If she's really going to do this, she'll call for a final approval.

It wasn't until 3:30 that I finally heard the car pull up. By that time I had already jacked off once just imagining that she might actually go through with it. I opened the front door and watched as she walked up, looking for any clue as to whether or not she had accomplished her mission. The first clue was that certain smile a woman has when she's been fucked good. Her lipstick was intact, so she probably hadn't given a blow job. My lusty need for the dirty details was overpowering.

Just as she had done in our roll plays, once inside she ordered me to my knees. She moved close and hiked her dress till I could see that her black panties had semen seeping through them. "Smell it," she ordered. I did, and it answered the did-she-or-didn't-she question. My wife was freshly fucked.

"Lay down," she ordered, and I did. She sat on my face and pulled her panties aside. No further instructions were necessary. I licked at her pussy like a starving man, inhaling the rich scents of her sluttiness. "Is that good," she asked.

"Yes," I said, before going back for more.

When sufficiently cleaned she stood up and reached down to pull me up. She kissed me and her tongue searched my mouth. She pulled back and said, "Well, I do taste good."

We went to the couch to talk about her adventure. I gazed into her eyes and saw something different. There was none of the previous reluctance to try on the slut hat. I was looking at the expression of a woman who tried it on and liked it. It scared me a little and triggered the demon jealousy. "What happened," I said, with a hint of interrogation.

"Are you glad I got fucked or not?"

"It's just very unexpected. I'm glad, it's just, I guess I wanted more say in the matter. A final approval or something."

That made her mad. "When did you tell me you wanted me to get a final approval?" My emotions were all over the place. Lust swirled with jealousy, passion with fear. This was what I wanted, but what did it mean that she just went out and did it, apparently with no more consideration than that afforded to the simple running of an errand.

"I don't know that I did insist on a final approval, I guess I just thought you would call me or something before just doing it. How did it happen?"

"Did you like the way it smelled and tasted down there."

"I've experienced that after I fucked you. What made it hot for me was knowing it was another man's cum I was licking up."

"Then does it matter how it happened. I got the cock I needed and you got to see what your wife tastes like after another man's cock has been in there dumping cum."

"I know, I'm just curious. How did it happen?" I was curious, and the voyeur in me did want every dirty detail for the sake of titillation, but I also wanted reassurance that her being a slut wasn't going to lead to me losing her.

"I'll be completely honest, if you promise not to get mad."

What I heard was Beth was involved. "I won't get mad, now what happened."

"It seemed ridiculous to go shopping and hope a guy picked me up, so I called Beth and asked her to arrange something."

"I fucking knew it!"

"I knew you wanted me to get fucked and I picked the most expedient way to make that happen."

I was trying to keep up with my emotional morass. The mixture of excitement and fear based jealousy was debilitating. Beth arranging it made it feel like now had more control over Carly, and felt threatening. I still suspected that she wanted to break us up. "I just didn't think this was going to happen so fast."

"Fast? How long have you been telling me you want me to fuck other men? And I told you last week it was going to happen today."

"I'm just confused by my conflicting emotions."

"If you're confused I'll never do anything like that again. I don't want to be the cause of your confusion. I thought you would love it and clearly you don't know whether you do or don't."

That comment interrupted my feelings of jealousy. I realized she was right. In our fantasies I had constantly begged her to be a slut and now days, any time we had sex that fantasy was part of our roll playing. And the week before I had dared her to fuck a stranger. What was I confused about? "I just think we need more communication," I said.

We did have great sex after that conversation. Her pussy did feel stretched and sloppy and it was really intoxicating to know how it got that way. But after the sex a silence set in between us. There was awkwardness in the days following that event.

As more days rolled by I returned to my typical level of horniness, now driven by the fact that my wife had actually let another man fuck her and she clearly liked it. I had licked the guys cum out of my wife's pussy and found that to be very erotic. Thoughts of the details of that day were making me crazy with lust, but I wondered how to bring it up after my ridiculous behavior following her admission. We left off with her saying she wasn't going to do it again, and I hadn't objected.