Wife tells of her time as mistress to marketing exec
Not kept or anything, but lots of playing with him -- and his crowd
by Mr & Ms Screwloose
Recollections of a time in a galaxy long ago and far away when there was no AIDS, few STDs, and lots of birth control.
Partly fiction, but only partly. Don't sweat the details.
Contains girlfriend-sharing. If you don't like this type of story, don't read it.
Many times over the years, to add spice to our relationship, I've asked my wife to tell me of her previous escapades. Her love life, her sex life, her relationship life, before we got married. It turns me on enormously to hear how she flirted with men, played with sex, enjoyed sex, how she was a hot babe who enjoyed men and how men enjoyed her. Turns us both on. We usually have a lot of trouble concentrating on her story through to the end.
This is one of the stories she told me. It came out in several chapters, because we would get crazy hot and screw in the middle of it. Later we'd pick it up again and get crazy hot again. Took several sessions for all of this to come out.
First, she gave some background that I needed to understand the era and the context of her play time in New York. This is my recording of what she told me. I'll try not to inject too many of my comments.
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(Ms. Screwloose picks up the narrative.)
I was young, just a couple years out of school, living in New York, working for a big marketing company. My roommate and I met a couple guys from similar company. Cute guys. Big spenders. VP types.
They had a pied-a-terre in the city, a big two bedroom apartment. They both lived in Connecticut, had wives and kids and big houses and mortgages and all, but they spent most of their time in New York, came in Monday morning, stayed in the city during the week "working late" and avoiding the long commute, then went "home" to their families on Thursday or Friday. Their wives had to know that the boys were dining and drinking and partying -- and screwing strange women -- sometimes during the week, but maybe they didn't care or maybe they had diversions of their own. This was long before the era of cell phones, so staying in touch meant a phone call now and then from the office or apartment. In any case, that's the way it was; the guys had two lives.
We had a great time at first. We went to fancy restaurants, beautiful bars, downtown jazz clubs, Broadway shows. I lived the life of a rich man's mistress and loved it. No, he didn't pay my rent, but, yes, all my entertainment and even some clothes. My job was pretty humdrum. Playing at night, being taken all over the city like that, with the best food and best wine and shows and music, that was my wonderful life in the city. It was one or two nights a week. I could not have survived doing that every night, perpetual hangover and little sleep.
It wasn't all partying out on the town, though. Evenings always ended up back at the apartment, and in the bedroom. And some nights there were just parties back at their suite: drinks and dancing, smokes and munchies, kissing and groping. Still ended up in the bedroom those nights, too, of course.
Billy was a good lover, though I was not all that experienced yet, so I didn't have a lot of material for comparison. This was at the beginning of my "years of debauchery" in New York, remember. And this was back before rampant STDs and AIDS. A single girl on the pill, living the high life that Cosmo was promoting -- if it moves fondle it! -- and I was often the fondle-ee. My roomie played with the other guy for a few months then moved on; I stayed with Billy for almost a year.
This really improved my cultural knowledge and my wardrobe a lot. He liked to buy me fancy underwear and beautiful dresses. No furs or diamonds, oh, rats, but silk and cashmere and some nice silver and gold jewelry, too.
There were parties in their suite at least one weeknight each week, sometimes two. Typically there would be eight or ten people, usually couples but sometimes extra guys or extra girls. The "couples" were sure not married couples, not even dating couples, just guys in the biz and their local honeys. Yes, it was all guys back then. Be serious. Being honest, they were usually married businessmen from the suburbs and their in-town weekday mistresses. I mean, I was one of those. Billy and I were one of those "couples." (And for a time at the beginning, my roommate and Stevie were another "couple.")
The parties were not openly drunken orgies, but certainly everyone who wanted to get laid did get laid. The girls were all enthusiastic amateurs like me, no professional "ladies of the night." Just guys and girls from the marketing/Ad/PR world.
Usually people went to one of the bedrooms to get intimate. Sometimes more than one couple in a room, too. Or one of the bathrooms. Or the kitchen, though that was a high-traffic area because that's where the drinks and ice and mixers were. On rare occasion, right there on the sofa in the living room or the dining-room-turned-den. Open nudity was very rare. The lights were kept low, but even so, there were not naked women or men running around the furniture like some cartoon. Usually it was just off with the panties, unzip the trousers, and have a seat, and bounce until done. We women wore slacks to work often, but never to party. Easy access to sex was important in the evenings.
Yes, I was the girl on the couch more than a few times. The lights were dim as I said, so it wasn't all that blatant. I think that Billy liked to do me in public to make it clear that he had the host's privilege, and that I was his territory. Or at least my body was his territory. Most of the time. I'll get to that.
Along with dancing and drinking and just conversation, one would see at least one couple making out, getting serious with feeling up tops and bottoms and inside zippers and buttons. This usually led to a more private session. But sometimes two were joined by another to make three, with the girl sandwiched in the middle between two guys -- or between her guy and another girl with enthusiasm for the bi side (which was pretty unusual back then, not like now).
Billy was the top dog in this crowd, and I was the boss's girl and the nominal hostess for the parties, so I stayed and played with him exclusively. Almost exclusively. Guys were always trying to get to me, the top dog's girl and all. Some guys would stop me in the hall and kiss me, openly and avidly. Not just a little peck. Open mouth, tongue-tangling kisses. Tight clenches. Their crotches pushed into mine so I could feel their erections. These gatherings were openly sexual, as I said. Not quite orgies, as I said, but if anyone was embarrassed by open sexual advances, well, they just didn't come back on future evenings.
There was always way too much booze at these parties. They guys actually installed an extra fridge in the apartment -- if you can imagine such a thing in a tiny New York kitchen. There was almost no room left. Well, no cooking happened there beyond coffee and maybe fried eggs and toast, but they were prepared for *lots* of drinking.
Sometimes the more playful and adventurous guys brought pot. This was a little dangerous, I guess, but we never got busted. And a favorite game was for guys to blow a mouthful/lungful of pot smoke into a girl when kissing. Shotgunning. Nothing like a little weed on top of the alcohol to loosen the inhibitions.
