I suppose it was fitting that my wife hooked up with her first stranger at Joan's wedding! After all, it was all because of my wife's boss and best friend Joan that I was sitting there at the bar, alone. Joan hired my wife for a entry position at the bank. What had started as a summer job between her junior and senior year of high school to help pay for college, grew into an internship and blossomed into a permanent position with the opportunity for advancement. Over the next four years my wife was involved in every phase of the banks operation so that, by the time she had completed her bachelor's degree in business, she had been promoted to assistant branch manager, under Joan; and they have since become the best of friends.
The day after our best friends going away party where my my had given him her pussy as a going away gift was an emotional disaster! My wife spent the entire day either crying or apologizing or both at the same time. It took me all day to convince her that I wasn't angry. I was, but we had spent the last month talking about her screwing another guy, and I was more excited about it than mad; and I figured that if I wanted it to continue I couldn't be mad at her! I spent the entire day in bed, cuddling and hugging her; and swearing that I was glad that she finally had the nerve to go through with what we had been planning on happening anyway. We ended up ordering Chinese and having terrific make up sex. Even then she cried and apologized the next few nights. I even managed to convince her that we should continue with game night. That it was what we both wanted.
For a month after our best friends goodbye party, where we officially opened our marriage, we went out on Saturdays, after midnight, to play our game; and each time I kept urging my wife take the plunge again. Each week I would find some way to talk to her; pass her coming out of the restroom, have one dance with her, whatever it took to get close enough to whisper in her ear; but with no luck. The first night on the way home she cried and told me that she couldn't go through with it again; that if I thought about it, it wasn't really what I wanted either. Then she completely broke down and said that, yes she had sex with our best friend, but we had been talking about her having sex with someone else for more than a month before that; and he was leaving and who knew how long it would be until she saw him again; and she was sure I wouldn't mind; and yes she should have asked me first; and she would never do it again; if only I could forgive her! All in one breath. The following two Saturdays I had to practically beg her to go out after I got home from work, and nothing happened other than her dancing with a few guys, and her allowing one guy to play with her tits out on the dance floor. Even then she avoided any kind of eye contact with me while they were dancing; and admonishing me on the drive home because she still couldn't believe that I really wanted her to have sex with some complete stranger. Again we talked about it all week, until we attended her best friend Joan's wedding.
As I mentioned earlier, Joan was also my wife's boss back then. She managed the branch where my wife was assistant manager and head teller. As soon as we'd received the invitation we booked a room at the Mission Inn, in Riverside, where the ceremony and reception were being held. Originally it was booked so that we wouldn't have to drive home late on the Saturday night after the reception. We were the only people invited to the wedding from their branch and wouldn't know anyone at the reception other than the bride and groom. Because of the previous months 'Grand Opening' I had pushed for shopping for a 'date' for my wife! And so, with some coaxing on my part, and before we left the house, it was decided that as soon as the happy couple slipped away 'The Game' was on - IF we found the right guy. Having a room there just made it easier to play the new and improved version of our 'Game' if it happened.
Once we were checked in we made our way to the outdoor area where the wedding was being held. My wife wanted to see what preparations had been made. We were both duly impressed. There was a beautiful Bougainvillea covered gazebo where the ceremony would be held, empty now, but for a woman directing a couple of young men moving flower arrangements around.
After the wedding we returned to our room to change for the reception. It seemed as though she was all legs in the 4-inch heels and little halter top thumb dress she had changed into. The top of her pumpkin orange silk dress consisted of wide tapering sash-like bands of silk that ran from the waistband up over each of her breasts and around the back of her neck where the now shoe lace sizes strips were tied in a neat bow. The space between where the two bands met, forming the front of her dress, was wide enough to display her belly button at the bottom, and widened as the cloth band narrowed and ran up behind her neck. There was no back to the dress above her hip bones. She was a big hit with the men at the reception; not so much so with the women.
We had just finished dinner, during which I had pointed out at least a dozen prospects, when my wife excused herself to the ladies room. She was gone for quite a while before she came back and asked if I was still serious about her having sex with someone else, because she had quite literally just bumped into one of the men I had pointed out earlier that she could, maybe, do it with. After leaving the restroom she entered the ballroom watching the bride and groom's first dance as a married couple instead of where she was going, and walked right into some guy that had just pushed his chair away from his table. She ended up sitting in his lap with his arms around her boobs to keep her from falling on the floor.
My wife said that she jumped up right away, but then he had insisted that she sit down in an empty chair long enough to make sure she wasn't injured. Then, because I had been pushing for her to 'hook up' with someone, as she put it, she sat down next to Robert, who introduced himself and his two sons who were both about her age; one a year or two younger, one a little older. After insisting that they get her a drink, Robert sent his older son to get her a martini. My wife was twenty-two at the time, I would have been thirty-four. Did I mention that my wife prefers older men? So now that she had been thinking about it she was all excited and had her panties all in a twist. Robert was a rugged looking Cary Grant, with just a bit more gray hair.
Not more than ten minutes after her return one of the sons is standing at our table asking my wife to dance. She looks over at me, what do I think. He looks over at me. I tell her sure, go ahead. She loves to dance. I have two left feet. Two songs later they're back at our table. He's got coke, she whispers, would I mind if she went with him to his room? She'll be right back! My wife never turns down coke! As long as she doesn't get lost, I reply, and it's another twenty minutes before I see her again.
Fifteen minutes later the younger of the two brothers is at our table asking if my wife wants to do some more lines, no pretext of dancing anymore. I know it will only help my cause and nod. She's gone another twenty minutes. On her return I asked if Robert was coming by next. She said no, Robert was still up in the room where they were doing the coke, but he had invited us to join him for drinks in the lounge after the reception, as his guest. She had left it at maybe we would see him in the lounge.
After the reception, and it being a Saturday night, there wasn't an empty seat to be had at the bar. We walked around and on our second attempt I saw that there were two seats open, between a gorgeous redhead and a very distinguished looking older gentleman. My wife nudged me and whispered that's him. That's Robert! On closer inspection, it was a glass of water at each seat. My wife looked to me, what should we do? I tapped him on the shoulder and asked if the seats were taken. He smiled brightly when he saw my wife and said yes, he'd been saving them for us!
I inclined my head indicating she take the stool next to him. My wife said that we should probably just call it a night and go to the room. 'Ridiculous' Robert said, ' you're already here! Sit down and have drink. Relax!' 'Yeah, just relax!' I said. 'Just have a drink and relax!' They exchanged smiles as he watched her ease up onto her barstool. He pulled his gaze up from her thighs and said hello again, I was hoping you could make it. My wife introduced us and we engaged in some friendly conversation as the bartender took our order. Robert was a well dressed fifty-something with perfectly groomed salt and pepper hair. He was also very well maintained; not an ounce of fat on him, and a tan that equaled my wife's! She was right, Cary Grant.
In a shortened version of twenty questions Robert established that my wife worked at the bank with the bride, I was her husband, and we too had a room there. I could almost see the gears turning in his head as he sifted through the all of the information he'd been given as he sat there openly undressing my wife. He gave her legs another quick once-over and then returned his attention back up on her breasts.
Our drinks came and we sat there chatting, and drinking, until I quietly asked if she was ready. She shook her head imperceptibly, no. I took the signal as hesitance and invited her to dance. Once out on the dance floor my wife told me that Robert had been rubbing his leg up against hers from the moment she had sat down. I told her that when we got back to the bar she lean over more than was necessary, allowing some slack on the front of her dress, and flash him a nipple. She said she didn't know if she could. It was one thing to flash someone across the room or in a passing truck, but someone sitting next to her wasn't the same thing. I reminded her that we had agreed that she would go the with it if she found the right guy, then asked if Robert was the right guy. She looked up and asked me one last time if I really wanted her to have sex with another man. I kissed her and put her hand on my crotch. My dick was so hard that it hurt. She kissed me back and said okay, we'll see, but if anything happens to remember that I had wanted this.
On the way back to the bar we joked about Robert saying that he thought she looked familiar; because when he wasn't watching her ass or checking out her cleavage he was leering at her thighs, and not being too subtle about it either! I bet her even money he couldn't pick her out of a lineup if she was wearing sweats and a baseball cap. We laughed all the way back to the bar
