My Wife's Reunion Weeend

It all started a few months back when my wife flew back to Boston for the twenty-five year reunion of her high school graduating class. Cindy attended an all-girls Catholic school (cue the Billy Joel song!) and hadn't seen most of her classmates since their tenth reunion. The format called for a "girl's night" followed the next day by a couples reception, dinner, and dance. Unfortunately I had a can't-miss business trip scheduled for the same weekend and couldn't join her. I felt awful about sending her alone, considering that she'd be forced to attend the couple's event by her lonesome.

"It's no big thing," she reassured me, "I'm sure that they'll be others there without dates, and frankly, you'd probably be bored to death anyway -- you wouldn't know a soul there!" I have to admit, she nailed that one. I can still remember the last reunion that I attended with her. The girls were carrying on with gossip and joking from the night before as the forgotten dates milled around like department store mannequins. I suddenly didn't feel so guilty about sending her off on her own!

I remember calling her Saturday morning from my hotel room in Chicago. From the sound of her voice I immediately knew that it had been a wild girl's night! "Hey, baby" she croaked with a sleep deprived slur, "whaa time zit?" I knew that in-depth conversation was a lost cause so I told her that I loved her and sent her back to bed. When I picked her up from the airport Sunday night she had no recollection of the phone call!

On the drive home she filled me in on the basics. The forty-or-so classmates painted the town red Friday night, bar-hopping and carrying on as only long-lost friends can. They ended the night at the hotel bar and closed the place down. Cindy drank a week's worth in a night and remembered stumbling into her hotel room as the sun rose Saturday morning. Needless to say she wasn't 100% for the event that night, but she had a great time anyway. At the end of the weekend the girls all agreed that a fifteen-year gap between get-togethers had been far too great and collectively promised that they would get together and do it again in five.

That was six months ago, and I had pretty much forgotten her trip to Boston until she brought it up one night last week after a round of frisky love-making. Now "frisky" isn't all that unusual for us: we both enjoy sex and erotic play, and often let our hair down during our sessions in bed. Today was different, though. I noticed earlier in the day that she seemed to be in an especially high state of arousal, and as we lay in bed staring at the ceiling, catching our breath, she began to reveal the source of her heightened libido.

"I want to share with you a few details from my reunion trip ", she started. "You remember - the one in Boston last fall."

"Of course I remember. Your hangover lasted three days after you got home!" I quipped.

With a roll of her eyes she disregarded my sarcasm and began her story.

The basics of the Friday night shindig were already old news: girls drinking, girls carrying on, girls gossiping, girls drinking more. "It had been so long since we'd seen each other that there was a ton of catching up to do, and not much time to do it in. It was like a feeding frenzy, and I jumped from conversation to conversation and tried my best to keep track of the details. Who's married, who's divorced, who's got kids, who's happy with their lives and who's just plain miserable. All of this while we drank and danced and flirted with every young stud who passed. We were a pack of cougars on the prowl!"

"Gee," I said, "sounds like one of those "Real Housewives" shows -- on steroids!"

"It was," she continued, "but as the night wore on we started to settle into smaller groups and really had some deep conversations. It turns out that I wound up spending most of my time talking to Sandy, a girl that I really didn't know well in school. We hit it off immediately and quickly found that we had lots of the same interests. We were soon completing each other's sentences and giggling like schoolgirls."

"You were schoolgirls," I reminded her, "at least for that weekend."

"Yeah, there was a real bond between us, you could feel it. Especially between Sandy and me. "

At this point my mind was already moving ahead in the story, weaving a ribald tale of lesbian lust. To my knowledge Cindy had never been with another woman, and my imagination was racing at warp speed. "So," I asked, "it is safe to assume that at some point during the night you and Sandy got to know each other even better, as in, "in the flesh?""

"You wish!" Cindy quickly countered. "Do you want to hear my story or not?"

I gave her my best Steve Martin "well, excuuuse me" and used my fingers to pantomime zipping my lips shut. My limp cock was beginning to spring back to life, and I desperately wanted her to continue. While I guessed the wrong conclusion, it was obvious that some sort of sexual content lay ahead.

"Okay, so Sandy and I are sharing life stories. She was so open and genuine and we bonded instantly. After only an hour or so I felt that I had known her for years. She confided in me that she and her husband were separated and had started divorce proceedings. Assuming she was there solo, I told her that you weren't able to make the trip, and jokingly suggested that she and I could go the next night as dates."

"Okay, I like what I hear," I say, still harboring hope that details of a girl-on-girl nympho party lay ahead!

"Nah, not that kind of date, buster!" she said. "And anyway, Sandy told me that she had a date for the night, a fellow who was flying in tomorrow that she had been seeing off and on for the past few months. "Nothing serious, just "fuck-buddies,"" as Sandy described it. Well, the frankness of that assessment was a little shocking and a lot refreshing, and I suddenly wanted to know more."

As did I!

"It seems," continued Cindy, "that her friend is a pilot for United. They met on a flight as he was traveling between assignments. Sandy has recently been jilted and was emotionally (and sexually) vulnerable at the time, and the pilot, Doug, had been recently divorced. What started as an innocent conversation between seat-mates soon escalated into drinks, dinner, and an all-night sex session. Since that time she and Doug meet at his hotel whenever his flight schedule brings him to town and they fuck like rabbits. According to her, it's a no-drama, no-commitment relationship -- just hot, no holds-barred sex."

"Lucky guy," I said, as I slowly began to stroke my stiffening cock.

"Lucky girl, actually," countered Cindy. "Let me explain. Since the alcohol had already washed away our inhibitions the conversation soon turned to our sex lives and experiences. During the course of "comparing notes" Sandy volunteered that Doug, her pilot, was really well endowed. Of course that's a subjective term, so I goaded her on for more details."

"And what did you find?" I asked.

"Well, according to Sandy's best guess his cock was at least nine inches long. She wasn't quite sure because it has a bit of a curve to it. She said he wasn't overly thick but that the shape of it drove her up the wall whenever they fucked, especially when he took her from behind. It's hard to believe; here's a girl that I haven't seen in years and have only really known for a few hours, and she's telling me about the sensation of her boyfriend's cock in her! Not your average reunion conversation, I suppose."

"Sounds like the kind of conversation guys might have" I answered with a laugh, "you know, all we really think about is sex and sports." I've known for a long time that one of Cindy's favorite fantasies is to have sex with a really well-endowed guy, so I knew the answer to my next question before I even asked. "And, I suppose all of this talk of Capt. Big-Dick Doug of Fuck-Me-Now Airlines probably had you a little hot and bothered, right?"

"Well, by that time the booze had me loose and the conversation had me horny, so yea, I was really envying Sandy at that moment" my wife admitted. "I told her that I always wanted to have sex with a really big guy, just to see what it was like, and she assured me that it was adventure that definitely belonged in any women's bucket list."

Again, my imagination was fast-forwarding to what the possible conclusion of this story might be. I slowly stroked my cock as I reached with my free hand to feel her thigh. She parted her legs and my hand found her pussy, already moist with cum from our earlier lovemaking. I used my middle finger to slowly trace the cleft of her slit with circular motions that avoided her clit. I teased the entrance to her love but didn't enter. Cindy moaned and arched her back each time I lightly grazed her clit: just a fleeting touch to heighten the sensation. "And I suppose that you're thinking of Doug's big cock as I play with your pussy, huh?" I asked.

"Shhhhh," she answered, writhing under my hand, "let me finish the story."

I kissed her softly on the neck and circled my tongue to the back of her ear. "Go on, please," I whispered.

"Well, we talked a bit more and drank a lot more and soon I noticed that it was nearly six in the morning! We kind of stumbled up from the couch in the bar and made our way back to the hotel hallway, although I'm not completely clear how we got there. I was really, really shit-faced by that point. The next thing that I knew Sandy and I were in front of the door to my room and I was fumbling with the card key."

Cindy's voice was more breathy as her excitement grew from my caresses and her reminisces. "Did she come in?" I asked.

"No, I remember that I finally got the key in the door and turned to tell her goodnight. We hugged and suddenly both sensed, simultaneously, that a kiss was in order. I have to tell you, it wasn't a peck on the cheek. It was a wild, passionate tongue kiss, as if we were devouring each other. I've never kissed a woman like that before, but under the circumstances it just felt right."

"Go on," I prodded, as I increased the speed and range of my fingering. I fully encircled her clit on each upstroke and gently sunk my finger into her on each down stroke. An erotic mixture of my own hot cum and her generous fluids lubricated the valley of her love. I stopped stroking my cock and pivoted to the side so that I could lick and suckle her closest nipple. Cindy's nipples are ultra-sensitive, and the second that my mouth enveloped it she let out a gasp. "Tell me," I urged, "tell me what happened next."

"Well, after a few minutes of groping and kissing we just pulled away and giggled. Soon the giggling turned to a full belly laugh and I was gasping for air and afraid that I was going to lose it. When our laughing finally subsided Sandy gave me a quick kiss and told me that she was looking forward to the party later tonight and that she'd love to spend more time together."

"And that was it?" I asked. "You didn't want to go beyond just a kiss?"

"Honey, I was three sheets to the wind and six hours past my bedtime. I was a walking zombie at that point. Had I not been so drunk or had it not been so late, maybe so. I can tell you, for what it's worth, that the first thing that I did when I got into the room was strip, fall on my bed, and start masturbating. I was so hot and turned on that I came almost immediately and passed out."

Of course I wasn't going to let her off that easily. "Tell the truth now, when you masturbated were you thinking about Doug, or thinking about Sandy?"

"Honestly, had we not made out in the doorway, it would have been about the nasty talk over sex and fucking and big cocks. But when I masturbated that morning I relived what had just happened. Of her hands on my boobs as our tongues explored each other's months, of her rolling my nibbles between her fingers as I gripped her ass with my hands. Of how perverted it was that we did all that in full view, right out there in the hallway. And as I came I was imagining what it would have been like to go further, to have her tongue on my pussy and mine on hers."

Now she was playing me, knowing full well the effects that her words were having on me. She pushed my hand from her mound and leaned over in one fluid motion, taking my stiff cock into her mouth. She whirled her tongue around my cockhead and under the crown, then pulled away and licked the shaft from top to bottom. Her hand cupped my balls as she again engulfed me, this time deep-throating my cock until her lips were against my pubic hair. After massaging me for a moment with her throat muscles she pulled away again and stroked my slippery cock and asked "Do you want me to continue my story?"

I'm not typically a two-cum-a-night guy, but her unexpected oral session brought me to the edge of orgasm. I was putty in her hands, and answered, almost pleading, "Yes, yes, please tell me more."

"Okay, but play with my pussy again while I tell you."

"I'll do better than that," I responded, and flipped my body over and moved down the bed, positioning my head near her waist. I licked at her navel as my hands moved below her, cupping her ass cheeks and squeezing them lightly. I moved outward from her belly-button in an ever-expanding concentric circle, licking her delicate skin with the flat of my tongue, then curling the tip to a point and flicking her lightly. I increased the pressure on her buttocks as my tongue circled lower, past her shaven pubic area and just above her clit. She arched her back to meet my mouth and moaned in sweet delight.

I felt her hand move between my face and her pussy, and she spoke. "Don't forget that we already fucked -- you probably don't want to go any lower."

In all of our years together I had never eaten her pussy after we made love. Honestly, the thought of lapping up my own cum would usually turn my stomach, but there was something that seemed magical about tonight and I had no inhibitions. I suddenly didn't mind the thought of licking her cum-fucked pussy; in fact, I actually desired it.

"Okay," I told her, "move your hand and continue your story and I'll boldly go where this man has never gone before!" She smiled and pulled her hand away, and I lowered my mouth to her waiting slit. My tongue slid gingerly at first as I cautiously tasted our combined juices. The flavor was different than I expected; a sexy combination of her natural sweetness and my slightly bitter ejaculate. My concerns abated, I plunged in and began licking her with increased gusto. She bucked against my mouth and squirmed as I sucked her swollen labia between my lips. I pulled my mouth away long enough to remind her, "The story, remember?"

"Sorry," she replied, nearly panting. "Okay, so I dressed for the night and headed down to the small ballroom where our reception and dinner dance was being held. I mingled a bit and scanned the room for Sandy and her pilot. I saw her, across the room near the bar, arm and arm with a tall, tanned man with silver-gray hair. Doug! Sandy and I made eye contact, and I headed towards them, eyeing Capt. Doug the entire time. As I neared them I was struck by his handsome, tanned face and movie-star looks. He looked a lot like a 40ish James Brolin, the silver hair adding an air of refinement and sophistication. The only thing missing was a smoking jacket and a pipe!"

I was amazed that she could recite her story so well with me performing cunnilingus until I realized that I had stopped to listen to her recital. I lightly flicked my tongue across her clit to make sure that she didn't feel neglected. "Maybe you should just skip to the good parts," I said between licks. "There are good parts, aren't there?"

"Okay, I'll give you the almost-condensed version. We chatted and drank and really enjoyed each other's company. I was pretty sure that I caught Doug sneaking a peek at my cleavage a few times but maybe that was wishful thinking. He was certainly a hunk of a man, easy on the eyes. As the opening reception wound down we made our way to the dining tables. Luckily there weren't assigned seats and the three of us were able to sit together. Doug was interesting and charming and we were soon engaged in a great three-way conversation, oblivious to the rest of the people at our table."

"Doug excused himself to go to the men's room and Sandy immediately drew close and asked me "Okay, so what do you think of Doug?" I told her that he was smart, witty, an unbelievably sexy man, and that I'd do him even if he had a little dick! Sandy chuckled and said "Wait until we get on the dance floor later. He always gets a boner when we slow dance. I'll get him good and hard and you can take a peek at what he's packing!""

With that I began to tongue Cindy's pussy with increased passion. As she squeezed and contorted I could taste the flow of my undiluted semen being pushed from within her. I turned my right hand, which had been gripping her ass, and slowly began to tease her anus with my thumb. Our sex juices had flowed down her the crack of her ass and provided ample lubrication, so I slowly inserted my thumb into her ass as I continued to feast at her pussy. I narrowed my tongue and probed deeply into her womanhood, licking my own spent seed from the moist walls of her cunt. I could feel the rhythmic spasms of her orgasm starting to build.

"Oh fuck!" she screamed. "Oh fuck, eat my fucking pussy, baby, I'm cumming!" With that she bucked in a final convulsion and climaxed with a massive orgasm. "Oh, fuck, that's sooo good," she purred, as I lightly blew across her throbbing clit, my thumb still pumping in her ass. I lapped our juices as I continued to probe her depths. Her pelvis undulated as I ground my hard cock into the mattress below in a matching cadence. I felt a second orgasm welling from deep within her and soon she was racked with a massive aftershock.

I kissed her pussy with an audible smack and lifted myself to a kneeling position, my hardened shaft pointing down at the target of my desire. I grabbed my cock and pressed the head against her slit. As she opened wider to greet me I began to massage my cockhead up and down her love, paying careful attention to her clit, but being equally careful not to enter her. I could feel the subsiding jolts of her most recent orgasm as her vaginal muscles continued to twitch, and with each spasm her labia grabbed at the head of my cock like a set of tiny hands. It was torture of the most exquisite kind.

"So," I asked, "did Sandy keep her promise?"

"Yes, that and then some," whispered my wife. "We were all on the dance floor, dancing individually and in groups, having a great time. I danced with Doug a few times and he was great fun, and a really good dancer. After about 30 minutes the DJ spun "Let's Get it On," the Marvin Gaye song. Sandy whispered into my ear "This is just the type of song we've been waiting for," winked, and pulled Doug to the middle of the dance floor."

This whole time I continued to slide my cock against her, still avoiding penetration. A few times I would push my cockhead right into the opening of her love tunnel, just an inch or so, and then slowly pull back. It was plain to see that this was working both of us into a frenzy. "Keep telling me your story."

"Sandy and Doug were gyrating, really doing some dirty dancing. I just stood to the side, just off the dance floor, and watched. I noticed that one of her hands was around his neck but the other had disappeared. I just knew she was playing with his cock with the other! Every so often she would make eye contact with me and wink. Sandy's tongue darted out and reamed Doug's ear as their bodies swayed in unison, as if they were joined together, a rhythmic soul-dance of lust. They were really bumping and grinding and didn't seem to care if anyone was watching. Well, I was -- I was mesmerized at the sight!"