My wife, Julie, is a gorgeous woman. At 40 only two things mar her petite little body. Stretch marks on her belly from childbirth and the fact she basically only has nipples for breasts.
Having been married to two sluts before my current wife, I recognized it in Julie. I guess I am attracted to slutty women, perhaps because I am the male version of that label.
I knew Julie was a slut of world-class proportions. I also knew the only way to keep a slut faithful was to keep her appetite for 'strange' satisfied.
I was also to the point where Julie fucking others, in my presence, was less hurtful than her cheating on me. In fact, I had so convinced myself of this, I was all time asking Julie to open up sexually to threesomes and swinging and the like.
I had images of her in my mind on her knees, in a room full of men waiting to use her willingly sucking mouth. I also fantasized of her on a bed, moaning her lust, her legs in the air while strange men with large cocks took turns fucking her. But I couldn't get her to go there.
We had fought on the issue on numerous occasions, but my fears of her growing restless and cheating on me would not allow me to give the issue a rest even if I couldn't bring it up to her any longer, because of arguments on the matter.
I decided I must skillfully guide her to the first event and then she would probably go there willingly. I set about devising a plan.
Besides being gorgeous, Julie is a social animal. We regularly entertain friends at our home, where my talents at the BBQ grill are used to their utmost. This time I intended to use more than my talents at the grill to gain enjoyment for our guests, my wife, and myself.
I have over the years been able to get Julie to loosen up on her attire some. When we met she dressed rather frumpishly. She usually looked like the President of the local School Marm's Association. A lot of this had to do with body image, and though I never successfully argued that a man didn't care what you looked like, gross obesity aside, if his cock was in your mouth or your pussy, she wouldn't relent.
She stated her reluctance to wear sexy clothing stemmed from the background of a wife of a low paying military man not being able to afford sexy clothing and she had no desire to dress "trashy and flashy".
I was able to counter those arguments when my small-business began to thrive and year in and year out draw in revenues in the multiple 6-figure range. So she could now afford anything. I countered the "trashy and flash" by purchasing sexy, yet classy clothing for her at Christmas one year and when she liked what I had purchased explained to her this wasn't "trashy and flashy", yet was still sexy.
She had gradually changed in the way she dressed. Her skirts had gotten shorter, which looked great with her long tanned legs, and she had gradually moved toward only wearing thong panties. For the party we were currently planning, I asked her to wear a recently purchased black mini-skirt. I didn't ask her to wear a specific blouse, feeling she should have the choice, to select as conservative a blouse as she wanted to help her feel comfortable in her new mini and not draw attention in her mind to the extremely short skirt.
When I came through the bedroom as she was dressing and I saw her putting on pantyhose.
“Are pantyhose necessary? This is after all an informal get together and you should be comfortable in your attire. Your legs are already nicely tanned this year and hose of any kind shouldn't be necessary.”
I would have liked it ok if she had chosen lace-top thigh highs, but none were better than pantyhose (my view of the modern chastity belt). She agreed with my assessment.
“One less waistband would be more comfortable.”
She returned the pantyhose to her lingerie drawer.
Now phase I of my plan was in place and the rest could proceed.
Some of our friends were married couples and some were single. We hadn't gravitated away from singles once we married as so many couples do and the single guys and gals were a regular part of our entertaining. I had singled out a young black male co-worker as my 'partner in crime' as Julie had a fantasy about big black cocks fucking her.
Gerome was his name and I explained my plan to him and detailed his part in the plan, and he eagerly agreed to participate. I had known he would, for I had seen him undress Julie with his eyes more than once. I guess the vision of a strong burly black man fucking a petite blond white girl wasn't just a white man fantasy.
So the plan was in place as the guests started to arrive for a late afternoon BBQ. The ribs were sizzling in the smoker, and a large pitcher of Top Shelf Margaritas was chilling in the fridge. Julie liked these especially well, and I did too because with three shots of booze and three shots of mix per drink, one didn't have to drink many to feel the effect.
As she poured for the first of our guests, she politely poured herself one and began to imbibe. My wife, ever the dutiful hostess, kept glasses topped off and, congenially, drank right along keeping pace with our guests. By the time the ribs were served with the fixings, she was starting to feel the effect as she had consumed several of the potent cocktails, on an empty stomach. I cautioned her to slow her consumption. I wanted her relaxed and slightly buzzed, but not ready-to-pass-out drunk.
After the meal and some socializing, the couples started to drift toward the door. I had hoped the free-flowing liquid refreshment would encourage hasty departures and it had worked. The single males however were all staying put. They all knew the grand plan, though not the detail, for their involvement would be spontaneous.
After all the couples had left and only several single males remained, Gerome asked
“John how about we check out that new 52” theater system you been braggin’ about at work.”
“Sure, why not, it’s in the den.”
Gerome briefly reviewed our impressive library of videos, then asked, loud enough so Julie could hear.
“Got any skin flicks?”
“Yes, sure do.”
