It was a rainy Friday evening. My friend, Carl, and I had been drinking at the hole-in-the-wall beach bar basically since college.
Somehow, the conversation steered towards sex. The subject of sex doesn't come up too often, and, in the past, Carl has been pretty tight-lipped about his bedroom sessions with his wife, Erica. That's why I was a bit surprised at his openness on this particular night. We often drink, often excessively, and yet in the years that I've known them both (they met shortly after Carl and I did, at the same bar where we were still met regularly), I'd never heard him speak so explicitly about his wife.
He told me that they had had a bit of a romantic lull after their child was born that lasted a year or so, but they had been experimenting. Pretty tame stuff at first; fuzzy hand-cuffs, dirty talk, etc. But over the course of the next few weeks, he'd give me more and more insight into their goings-on in the boudoir. He started showing me sext messages that she would send him at the bar, and even showed me a picture she'd taken of her breasts.
I'd seen them once before, when I had crashed on the couch after a bit too much whiskey. It was an awkward moment for both of us. She had obviously not known that I was there and walked into the living room in her panties, breast-feeding their newborn. I wondered then if she had ever told him about that.
It was another Friday, several weeks later. Carl was not at the bar. They had taken their child to his mother's so they could enjoy a nice date night, leaving me alone to drink alone, which I did until around 9:30-10PM.
It was a text, from Carl. I found it a bit unusual.
"What are u up to?"
"At the bar. You?"
"We got back a little while ago."
I didn't really think much of it, and went back to my conversation with a friend of ours when he texted me again.
"Want to swing by for a drink?"
"Sure. Let me get my tab."
Nothing about the exchange was particularly unusual until he responded;
"Cool. Text me before you get here. I'll meet you on the porch."
That was a bit odd. Maybe they had picked up their child on the way back and just put him down? I waved it off, and within minutes, I was sitting on the porch. He came out with two glasses of wine.
"You goin' soft on me, old man?" I laughed. We typically drank beer and bourbon. He merely laughed. We made small talk for a bit, he told me about the restaurant they went to and about the film they went to see.
"Where is Erica?"
"She's inside...Tied up..." We both laughed.
"What!?" I exclaimed. I felt a warm rush of blood go through my body. Maybe I was blushing, but he started laughing again. It's a very distinctive, cartoonish laugh.
"Are you kidding?"
"No, keep it down. It's a surprise for her."
"What kind of surprise, dude? This is pretty weird, I gotta say."
"So, she feels weird that I've been with other people, and she hasn't."
"I mean, that's kinda on her though, right?" I said. She had been one of those "not before marriage" weirdos, much to Carl's frustration while they were dating.
He went on to tell me about how this was for their relationship, and he was doing it for her, and all that, but a part of me suspected that this was more his fantasy in some way.
As longtime drinking buddies, we've pissed on our fair share of alley walls on the walk home, and I've caught him looking at my cock more that a few times, depending on how drunk he was at the time.
I should describe them, before I go any further. He is a short man, stocky but not fat, with squinty eyes and well-groomed beard and hair. A bit arrogant in his intelligence, but can easily be an everyman if the situation calls for it.
Tracy is petite and a bit gray around the eyes, which are always magnified by her large glasses that she always seems to be tilting her head back to look through. Despite her meager size, she has breasts that are large for her body and a tight little ass, all of which is generally hidden by baggy clothes.
I've always found her sexy in how very non-sexual her personality is. Very shy, meek, and exceptionally kind.
I was sort of in my own world, wondering if I would indeed go through with this or if I should back out, while Carl told me his plan for the night. He had choreographed the whole thing, but I was still too shocked to pay any mind.
We finished our wine and tip-toed back into the house, timing our footsteps in tandem so as not to alert her to the presence of another person just yet.
As he opened the door, I nearly collapsed. There she was, blindfolded and tied to the bedposts completely spread-eagle, with a small pink vibrator sticking our of her soaking wet pussy. My pants tightened as my cock became completely engorged. The idea of standing in the same room of some of my best friends with a hard dick made my head swim!
