Diane and I have been married for 30 years and enjoyed a healthy and hot sex life. Until last week I am sure I am the only man who has touched her sexually, at least as long as we have been together. I had a few flirtatious encounters with women from work, but nothing beyond a quick grope at the office party. Diane is just over 50 and in great shape, petite with straight brown hair, blue eyes and breasts which I am sure have grown bigger as she has passed her menopause. And at the same time, since we stopped using condoms, and since the kids left home, our sex life has become more adventurous and delved more into exciting fantasies. Until last week, the fantasies had stayed between the two of us – in story telling or role play in the bedroom.
We found we both got turned on by fantasies of other men or women being involved in our love-making. We were turned on even more when the fantasy was of a young guy or a young woman who we were initiating into sex. In our fantasy Diane would finger a virgin pussy or stroke or suck a hard virgin cock. We would play with each other whilst we did this, until we were so aroused that I simply had to fuck her. As I did so, the fantasy would switch to a boys fucking her with his hard, young cock, or sometime it would be me fucking one of the girls under her "instruction".
All of this was contained within the bedroom, but inevitably, some element of any fantasy becomes a game we play in our heads outside the bedroom. And so, we found ourselves in a pub a few miles from home last Friday, sharing a glass of wine each and teasing each other about our sexual fantasies.
It had been a long week and we needed to relax. It was summer, and Diane had slipped on a rather tight clingy dark red cotton dress which accentuated her figure very nicely. She wore a pretty bra and – to avoid the panty line - a very small pair of red thongs. She looked terrific and sexy and I was looking forwards to a grope or two in the car before taking her home. Despite her sexiness and imaginative mind, she was pretty conservative about where we fucked – in the bedroom. Just once in our married life had we fucked outdoors and only once in the car.
We sat at a table and watched and commented on the other people in the pub, as people do. The bar was busy, mainly full of younger people with a few older couples.
Two boys came in with a girl. They looked about 18 or 19. Diane spotted them and whispered to me that they were two boys from her work. She worked in the office of a department store and these two lads worked in the back shop, unloading the lorries and putting the items away on the warehouse shelves.
Diane giggled and said that the taller of the two – Tom - had smiled at her several times as she walked through the warehouse from time to time. She reckoned that he fancied her. I remarked on his age – he was young enough to be her son. She laughed – protesting that it wasn't unusual for a younger boy to have a crush on an older woman. Tom was muscular, well-dressed and good looking. His friend was quite different. He was chubby, scruffy and slovenly, with a scruffy shirt and a baggy pair of jeans. The girl was with Tom. She was quite cute, in tight jeans, a black top and dark blonde hair. She had a neat arse and small breasts – not that I was noticing, of course. They all walked to the bar and ordered drinks. The boys leaned on the bar and the girl sat on a stool.
We continued chatting for a while and finished our drinks. I asked my wife whether she wanted another. She did – and I got up to go to the bar.
"I'll go" she said and smiled cheekily, "may as well say hello to Tom." She walked over to the bar, her hips swaying, her breasts pushed out just a little more than usual. I watched her, and watched the boy's reaction as she walked towards them. I smiled to myself as Tom unwittingly, licked his lips.
They were out of earshot, but I looked on as Dianne joined them. She was soon laughing and joking with them – she is very good at putting people at their ease. I could see her from behind and see Tom smiling and laughing with her. His girlfriend was smiling a little sheepishly and the other boy – Ian – just stood there looking a little awkward and embarrassed, unnerved by this confident and attractive older woman. Of course, none of them looked my way. Diane had not mentioned me to them. So I sat and observed, intrigued by the looks and smiles and glances being exchanged.
The barman passed Diane the drinks and she turned to smile at me. I smiled back and she took this as an agreement that she should invite the three of them over to where we were sitting. She led the way towards me. Tom was clearly staring at Diane's arse as she walked back, very sexily. She was clearly enjoying the game.
They sat down and we chatted. Diane sat next to me, with the girl – Rosanne – on my left and Ian to my right. Tom sat between them, opposite Diane. By now, confident of my approval Dianne was flirting and teasing, asking them suggestive questions about what they got up to in the warehouse, which girl Ian fancied and making admiring comments about Tom's physique. I looked at Rosanne at this point and smiled. She seemed to accept that Tom was a bit of a catch, and him being complemented by other women, even of my wife's age – was just part of the deal.
Diane was sat on a low stool, and as she talked, she moved positions in a way that made her skirt ride up her thighs a little. I had no idea at the time whether this was deliberate or accidental, and tried to catch her eyes and alert to the fact that she was revealing quite a bit of leg. She simply smiles back. Then her legs opened a little more. She was practically flashing at Tom opposite, the hem of her dress at mid-thigh.
My phone buzzed and I took a quick look at it. Just as I did so, Tom leaned down to pick something off the floor, and took a good look between my wife's knees. I looked over my phone and caught his eye. He looked very embarrassed. Dianne simply opened her legs further. She was having a ball.
After another ten minutes, she made an excuse to go to the ladies room. I kept the conversation going, although it was quite muted without Dianne's flirtations. Tom seemed unfazed by the fact I had caught him looking up my wife's dress. Maybe it was the sort of thing he did all of the time. And to be fair, she had hardly discouraged him.
She returned and sat down again, adopting a slightly more modest pose. "I should check my phone too" she said, opening her small handbag. She rummaged around a little and pulled out her phone, and at the same time, what I thought was a red handkerchief spilled out. I picked it up for her. My heart missed a beat as I looked at it. This was not a handkerchief it was her thongs! She had taken them off in the ladies room. And there I was holding them with three other pairs of eyes ogling at them.
Diane laughed. "They were getting a bit uncomfortable in the heat," she smirked" so I thought I should take them off – tiny little things though they are!" Did she mean the heat of the bar or the heat of her pussy?
She grabbed them off me and held them up to show the others. Not only were they tiny, they were clearly damp. The three youngsters looked were stunned. I could smell her on them – smell her sex, the familiar scent of her cunt. I am sure the others could too. Diane simply laughed and put them away.
"Well, you always wanted to see my knickers didn't you Tom?" she joked. I was simply out of my depth here. Diane was controlling the whole scene, and the four of us were simply following some sort of script.
Only Tom spoke "I'd rather see them on than off", he said, calmly and coolly. Diane smirked and obliged - leaning forwards and slipping them over her shoes. She slid them slowly up her calves and up to her knees and then, fixing Tom's gaze, eased them under her skirt and over her thighs, hiding her pussy expertly from view. With a final flourish she lifted her skirt and flashed them for us all to see.
It must have been a millisecond exposure. But the image is imprinted on my mind. My wife with her skirt up, her thighs exposed and a very tight band of red thong splitting her pussy lips with wisps of soft brown hair either side. Tom and Ian were entranced. No sooner had she done this that she stood up and pulled her dress down.
"Time for us to go" she announced, grabbing my arm.
The word "us" was deliberately ambiguous – did she mean the two of us, or all of us? We walked slowly to the door towards the car park without looking back. We had not said goodbye and yet she had issued a veiled invitation. My heart was in my mouth – why did she want them to follow? What was her plan? Would they follow, or meekly stay behind?
We walked out of the door into the car park. It was dark by now. Dianne stopped as if to listen, and then led me into a darker corner of the car park, leaned against the wall, put her fingers over her lips to tell me to be quiet and waited.
Sure enough, Tom, Ian and Roseanne emerged after about 30 seconds and stopped at the door, looking around. It was colder and I was staring at them. They looked over towards us and peering into the darkness, spotted us. I turned to look at my wife. She had pulled her dress up and was stroking her thong seductively with her finger. The boys were transfixed. They moved slowly towards us. Of course I should have pulled Diane's dress down and dragged her back to our car. But I was immobilised by the whole situation – it seemed unreal, like one of our fantasies and I was fascinated to see just how far it would go.
Tom led the threesome as they walked towards us. Dianne fixed his gaze again and continued to stroke herself, her finger pressing over the miniscule fabric of her thong as she licked her lips. I could smell her pussy again. The woman was on heat. Roseanne stopped a little behind the boys - resigned it seemed to the fact that her boyfriend was lusting after this other woman. Ian stayed alongside Tom as they approached within a meter and then paused. They stared intently at my wife's finger as it eased itself up and down her crotch hypnotically.
Then her finger slid easily inside her thong and pushed effortlessly into her soaking wet pussy. She pulled it out and raised it into the air in front of the two boys. To my surprise she ignored Tom and dragged her pussy-soaked finger across Ian's lips. He was immobilised. As his jaw dropped open she pushed it into his mouth. His face reddened as she toyed with him and he began to sweat. Finally his mouth closed and he sucked the juices off her. Dianne smiled.
Tom looked disappointed. "What about me?" he said.
"You have a girlfriend, Tom" my wife replied softly, "perhaps she will give you a taste of hers?"
Roseanne moved forwards – but not to join in. Instead she stood next to me – on some mark of solidarity at our partners' outrageous flirtation with each other.
