woke early and got dressed. Well, some people wouldn't call it dressed, but the point is that I got ready. It was Father's Day, and I had a special present for my husband, one he'd never gotten before. You might say it was a home-made gift, and as with any home-made gift, presentation was everything.
We had been up late the night before, Patrick, my husband, had brought home company. I wasn't really expecting any visitors...but when I saw who he'd brought, well, let's just say I'm the forgiving type. He'd met this individual on a plane, and I was very excited to meet him. My husband knows a lot of important people, but very few of those people are in sports. This new friend, Brian, played professional basketball. I don't think I'd ever met a man that tall before. Standing well over seven feet, he moved with a grace I'd not have expected from one so big!
At any rate, we hit it off right from the start. Brian was very gracious, and very attentive. I knew from the first moment he took my hand in his that he was going to be a great lover, but I had no idea how much I'd enjoy this athlete until later that night. I'm not a very big woman, and my five foot five inches, seemed even smaller next to Brian. His hand was bigger than my entire face!
They arrived home around seven that night. We had planned to go to a club and have a few drinks, maybe dance a bit and then make an early night of it. In the back of my mind, I was concentrating on Father's Day, and knew that it would be a full day. I was sure I'd appreciate the rest the night before. But once Patrick and Brian arrived, the whole evening changed.
"Rachael, I want you to meet Brian West. He plays basketball for...well, I guess it doesn't matter who he plays for...does it?"
"Hello, Brian. My husband is such a chauvinist. He thinks women don't know anything about sports."
"When a woman is as beautiful as you are," he said taking my hand in his, "she doesn't need to understand sports."
"How kind of you to say that! But I'm afraid he's right. I don't know much about basketball."
"There's not much to know, sweetie," Patrick interjected, "you just take a round ball and put it into a round hole."
"That's a bit of a simplification, Patrick, but it is a pretty accurate description of what I do." Brian said with a smile. I couldn't help but notice what a pretty smile he had. His teeth were so white, in contrast to his dark skin.
Patrick looked at me with a certain sense of appreciation. I'd already dressed for the evening. Since we were going to party a bit, I'd selected one of Patrick's favorite outfits. It was entirely black. A fitting choice, in view of our new friend. I was wearing a black silk dress, cut low in the back, with a knee length skirt. It was obvious from the back that I wasn't wearing a bra, of course, it was obvious from the front as well. The silk of the bodice hugged my form like the skin of a grape. My large 38DD breasts were prominent, but equally prominent were my firm, hard nipples. Patrick calls them bullet nips, because he says they're the size and firmness of a .38 slug. He showed me the bullet he referred to once, and I must agree, without the metal part, my nipples and a .38 slug are about the same size.
Patrick hates panty hose, so I'd chosen a pair of silk stockings, with a delicate spider web pattern, held on by garters. Now, your wife will tell you, garters are a pain in the ass...but he likes them and I feel really sexy when I have them on. To make the outfit even sexier, I wore a very thin pair of bikini panties, more for effect than protection. There was practically no back on them, and the front couldn't completely cover my pussy. But again, I was dressing for my man, not for comfort or style.
I'd chosen a pair of open toe pumps...black of course, with almost a four inch heel. I was ready to party! After a couple of drinks...so was everyone else. When we were ready to leave, Brian took my arm and escorted me to the car. He opened the front door for me, but I told him he could ride up front, that I'd get in the back. That made sense to me, he would need more leg room than I would. Besides, I had a plan in mind for this boy...and he'd need be in front of me to enjoy what I had in mind.
As we drove to the club Patrick and Brian and I chatted, mostly about nothing. Then I asked Patrick about his trip.
"Oh, nothing special. I met a rather attractive blonde in Atlanta. She works for the company that hired me to give the seminar."
"Really? What did she look like?"
"Nice looking. Firm tits. You know...the kind of woman I tend to find attractive."
"Was she good in bed?" I asked this question with the same inflection a person might ask about dinner, or the weather. I glanced toward Brian and noticed the surprise registered on his face.
"Oh, she was all right. Couldn't suck a cock as well as you, but her pussy was pretty tight. There was one thing I did especially like about her, though."
"And what was that?"
"She didn't wear any underwear. Ever. She told me she didn't even own any!"
Brian still hadn't said a word. It was as if he were used to men telling their wives about women they'd been fucking a week ago. I thought this was the perfect opening for what I wanted to do.
"Well, I don't wear a bra. Doesn't that count?"
"Of course it counts, sweetie, but you do were under panties, now don't you?"
"Isn't that just like a man, Brian? Never satisfied. Here, hand these to Patrick for me, will you?" As the tall man turned to take what I wanted him to hand to my husband, he got his eye full of me, pulling my skirt up, and stripping off my panties. His face registered what he saw. I must have made quite a sight, my legs lifted, one after the other to the seat as I "stepped" out of my lace black panties. I made no effort to cover my pussy, in fact, quite the opposite. I even parted my legs a bit before pushing the skirt back down, allowing our new friend a nice glimpse of what I knew was a sparkling, glistening pink morsel of fine pussy. Brian took the panties from my hand and almost without conscious thought, brought them to his nose. I watched as he inhaled the crotch, and knew that not only could he catch the faint aroma of my pussy, but that his nose told him the dampness in the crotch area was pure sexual arousal!
"Here," he said to my husband, handing him my panties.
"No, you keep them," I said as an afterthought. "You look like a man who appreciates mementos."
"I'll treasure them always! The scent will linger in my mind forever."
He put the panties inside his coat pocket. I knew he was hooked!
2
We got to the club about twenty minutes later. It was located in the next city over from where we live. Patrick doesn't mind partying, but really doesn't want to party with someone who may show up at our door the next day. For that reason, we do most of our playtime out of town. The bar we were going to was in a hotel, and it was one we'd had fun in before. I was glad he'd chosen that particular place. Patrick got us a table near the dance floor. He doesn't care much about dancing, but loves to watch me. Dance that is. For that matter, he loves to watch me do almost anything. Strike the "almost." Patrick loves to watch me do everything!
We had ordered drinks, and I realized how out of place we must have looked. Here we were, in a southern city, in a hotel bar, and what a trio we made. Patrick is well built, usual height and weight, and sports a very sexy beard! I'm a fairly attractive woman, or so I'm told, and I realized I was dressed in a very sexy manner. I was decent, but just barely. Men have often told me that while I looked like a respectable woman when they first see me, after a while another side of me starts to surface, and soon, they're not sure if it's lady or whore they're talking to. Trust me...it's whore!
Alone we made an attractive couple, but add Brian, a completely perfect athlete, muscular, well developed, seven foot four in height, and black as the ace of spades, and you can imagine the picture we made. I sat between the two guys, sharing my attention equally. After we'd sat through half a dozen songs, Brian asked if I danced.
