I knew before we got married that my wife, Helen, was keen on older guys; I myself am in my forties and Helen is still only twenty-four. She adores older flesh, and when I say flesh, I mean hot, hard, swollen cock! I was never going to be enough for her – I knew that. I could never hope to satisfy her voracious, almost insatiable sexual appetite.
At first she cheated on me. It didn't take much for me to find out – the men were plentiful and Helen was hardly discrete. And so I confronted her – with a little smile on my face, I must confess – and asked her to explain herself. Of course, I knew the answer to my question before I'd even asked it: She was a complete slut and couldn't help herself; she needed more hot sex than I could possibly provide her with.
And so we agreed. It was a simple decision and one that I had always kind of hoped for – Helen would have sex with other men with my consent and, of course, while I watched!
And that was what brought us to the Embassy Bar. We had discovered that this small, smoky bar on the outskirts of town was a haven for older, working type guys – just the sort that got Helen wetter than a fish in water.
We sat and drank for a while as I surveyed our surroundings. The bar was fairly busy but apart from a few older women sitting semi-drunk at the bar, Helen was the only female in the place. The ceilings were low and hung heavy with clouded tobacco smoke. Joe cocker played on the ancient sound system but didn't seem to disturb the low chatter around the tables. A smell of stale beer and desperation seemed to pervade the room.
"What about him?" Helen asked in a half whisper as she leaned over to me. She had worn a low cut pink top without a bra and I could clearly see the upper slopes of her full breasts.
"Bit scruffy." I replied. "I think it would be better with someone who washes every now and then!"
For a moment she looked a little sullen and her lips turned down in a petulant pout. But then she seemed to brighten as her wandering eye homed in on another guy.
"He looks sexy." She said.
I looked over casually and saw a man that I guessed to be a little older than myself. He was sitting with an almost empty beer glass in front of him and smoking the remains of a Marlboro. His shortish hair was greying – as was a neatly kept beard, but his face seemed friendly. I could see why Helen found him sexy; there was something about him that seemed to ooze confidence.
I nodded to my wife and we both rose from our seats and started to approach the man's table. But as we got nearer – almost too near – he was suddenly joined by another man.
"Oops!" I laughed quietly. "Looks like we have to find someone else now."
"Are you kidding?" Helen's voice was a little strained and I had to grip her arm a little to stop her from staring.
"He's gorgeous." She continued. "Even better than his friend. Well, as good as, anyway."
"But we might not be able to separate them." I said.
"Who said anything about separating them? If they are up for it, I want them both!"
I was a little shocked, Helen had never intimated that she was interested in group sex or gangbangs, but clearly she was not about to be put off. Secretly I was more than pleased. In my opinion the one thing better than watching my young wife with another man was watching her with two.
And of course both men were indeed up for it. Helen can be very persuasive when she wants to be but in this case that was unnecessary. After a few furtive glimpses of my wife's half covered breasts and her long shapely legs that stretched out from under her short skirt, both men were suggesting a taxi ride back to our place and were probably as hard as I was.
