Cat, Chris and Amy

It was Friday afternoon. I sat at my desk staring at my computer screen, trying very, very hard to concentrate on the report I was supposed to be writing. Half past three. Time had slowed almost to a halt; every passing second seemed to take an age. But then I realised there were only two and a half hours to go - and all of a sudden time was going way, way faster than I could cope with.

I went to make myself a mug of coffee. Anything just to occupy the head and the hands. By four o'clock I had given up on the report, knowing I could catch up with it on Monday morning. I sat playing PC solitaire with one half of my brain, while the other half was racing with all sorts of distracting thoughts. Time was still going both way too slowly and way too quickly.

I took some long, slow, deep breaths. Tried to collect myself, slow down the trickle of adrenaline that was keeping me on edge. Why was I so nervy? Was it fear, or was it excited anticipation? It felt like both...

4.30 p.m.

I went to the bathroom. Locked myself into a cubicle and ran my hand slowly from knee to thigh, pulling up my skirt as I went. Trying to imagine how I would feel to someone else. Fine, silky nylon, ending just below my crotch...I traced the edge until I got to the stretched curve where the stocking was attached to the suspender. Ran my finger-tip over the button there. Slowly, with an odd little thrill, I moved my fingers to the thin silk of the g-string that covered my pubic mound. I'd shaved that morning and I enjoyed how soft the skin felt through the silk. The thought of someone else's fingers there...I pulled the g-string to one side and looked at myself – smooth, soft, pale skin and, obscenely, a hard, dark pink clitoris poking right out in clear view. I wanted to touch it but I pushed my hands up inside my shirt instead, brushing the sensitive tips of my nipples through the silk of my bra ... ENOUGH. With a shudder and a grin I put my clothes back where they should be and walked back to my desk. And found my boss, David, waiting for me there, perched on the edge of the desk. I felt myself blush as I sat in my chair, a foot away from him. Surely he would be able to smell my arousal? I couldn't look him in the eye. I realised he could see down the open neck of my shirt. Blushed again.

"How can I help, David?"

I did it. I looked him in the eye and any doubts vanished – he could smell me. I took a deep breath and faced it out. Had the conversation. He wanted to set up a meeting for next week and was checking when I was available. Easy. I waited for him to go. He didn't go. Just sat there looking knowing and friendly.

"Look, it's nearly 5 ... do you fancy a quick drink? I'm meeting someone at 6 and I don't fancy hanging around here ..."

David thought that was a fine idea and we made our way to the pub on the corner. A gin & tonic and a chat about the new trainee, and the butterflies in my stomach started to calm down a little. Just as I started to relax, David asked who I was meeting at 6. My husband, Chris. Yes, going for a meal ... and then maybe to a bar ... just saying it got me all nervy again. And very conscious of the thin layer of silk separating my clitoris from the outside world ... for just one split second I wanted to ask David to come with me into the ladies' and finger me until I came. And then I regained my senses ... I just had to hold on for a few hours now ...

All too soon it was 5.45. Time to go to the hotel bar. I wished David a good weekend and took off. The cold November air felt very odd through the damp silk of my g-string.

The brisk walk though the city streets sobered me up. I reminded myself over and over that Chris had given me a no-strings get-out. There was no obligation on me – at any point. That thought did comfort and calm me. And as I approached the brightly-lit bar in the darkness and saw Chris sitting with a glass of wine, absent-mindedly running his finger up and down the stem of the glass while he stared distractedly at the label on the bottle, his thoughts clearly elsewhere, I realised I was a lot less scared than I thought I was.

He stood up when he saw me coming towards him. Something half-way between a grin and a leer on his face. Kissed me gently and whispered in my ear "You look beautiful... and you smell like sex". Quickly, I slipped my hand down to the front of his trousers and felt the thick, half-hard, heavy cock there. Felt a sudden awareness of my clitoris again. We sat down and grinned at each other. He poured me a glass of wine and, wordlessly, knowingly, we clinked glasses and drank. We sat for a long time, not talking, just collecting our thoughts and looking at each other ... then Chris asked how I was feeling. I told him – nervy, but not in a bad way ... distracted ... horny ... He gave me a smile that was so lecherous it took my breath away.

He ordered some food and we moved to one of the booths where the tables were set for dinner. I sat in the corner and was surprised when Chris sat next to me instead of opposite me. Suddenly very nervous again, I rested my head on his shoulder for a second ... and felt his hand, out of nowhere, on the inside of my knee, moving upwards to the warm skin where the stocking ended. In a low, smiling voice, he murmured "Stockings, eh?" – and at that moment the food arrived and his hand withdrew. One of those big plates of things to share, and we both made a good attempt at it, knowing that even though nerves and excitement made eating difficult, it was going to be a long evening. Possibly very long ...

Feeling like clueless teenagers, we'd spent the previous weekend searching the internet and local listings magazines for suitable bars and clubs. We'd found two, one a ten-minute walk from the other, that looked as though they might be what we were looking for. We'd booked a room in a hotel that was close to both bars. Now we went up to the room and shut the door. Chris grabbed my hand and pulled me to him. Kissed my neck and whispered "Baby, you can say no at any point. You know I love you". In response I moved my hand over the outline of his hard cock and kissed his throat. I moved over to the bed and bent over, my weight on my hands, and looked over my shoulder at Chris. He grinned and walked up behind me. Slipped my skirt up and over my hips and ran his hands up the backs of my thighs. I was just about to stand up when I felt his thumbs being hooked through the sides of my g-string. Surprised, I let him pull it down and I stepped out of it. He held it up in front of my face ... "This isn't very clean is it, after what you've been thinking about all day? I thought that might happen, so I went shopping at lunchtime". I stood up and turned to see him get a bag out of his briefcase. He pulled out a g-string made of very fine, open black lace, and handed it to me, told me to step into it but not pull it up. I did as he said and waited. He dropped to his knees in front of me and looked me in the eye. "I think I need to clean you up ..." and his mouth was on me, licking inside and around my wet cunt, avoiding my clit. He licked just enough to clean me up and then he pulled something else out of the bag ... oh Christ ... it was one of those love-egg things ... I didn't even get a good look at it ... he quickly pushed it into my slick hole. It felt cool inside my hot cunt. It made me feel sluttish. Once again he licked me clean, not touching my clit ... then he pulled up the new g-string and led me to the mirror, where I could see just how clearly my fat, swollen clit was visible through the open lace-work.

I could see how turned on Chris was – his cock was straining hard under his clothes ... and then I looked up to see a black lace bra in his hand. He handed it to me and told me to put it on. I took off my shirt and bra and put on the lace bra ... it pushed my breasts upwards, made them very round ... and ended just below the nipple. I looked down at myself and saw the stiff nipples standing out, nothing to cover them ... I was about to brush a nipple with my fingers when Chris told me to leave that for later and to put my shirt back on. As I buttoned it up, he said "Stop there". I looked at him, unsure – I'd only buttoned it as far as the bottom of the bra ... people would be able to see what sort of bra I was wearing if they happened to see me from the right angle ... Chris told me I didn't need any more buttons to be done up. I took a deep breath and chose to trust him on the point.

He held up my coat for me. That time already? Another deep breath and my coat was on and we were out of the room and walking to the lift. Chris turned and said "You choose – The Lounge or Sammy's?" We might as well have flipped a coin – we had no way of judging which was the right place to go. I chose The Lounge.

Ten minutes in the November evening air, this time feeling the icy air pricking at my clit directly, through the holes in the lace, and I felt slightly more in control of my nerves. The egg in me felt good; I could feel it shifting slightly inside me with every step.

I felt a sudden wave of nervous nausea when I realised we were standing outside The Lounge. Chris put a warm, comforting arm around my shoulders and together we walked into the doorway and down the stairs that led to the basement bar. I had no idea what to expect. This place had no website. Just a few entries in listings magazines. It called itself a bar for bisexual women, "men welcome". The thought was suddenly terrifying. I had never touched a woman and was, at best, "bi-curious". I suddenly felt I was being hurled in at the deep end ... we turned a corner at the bottom of the staircase and walked into the bar, and within a few seconds I felt much, much happier. The bar was relaxed, not too crowded. The music was down and dirty delta blues – not too quiet and not too loud ... The people – mostly women, but a few men – looked normal and friendly, chatting quietly at the tables while a few danced on the small, dimly-lit dance-floor to one side of the bar.

Chris motioned to me to sit at a table for four next to the dance-floor, and went to the bar. Came back with a bottle of wine and four glasses ... silently, knowingly, we again clinked glasses. I took a big sip and a deep breath and Chris smiled and affectionately stroked my cheek. I saw the love in his eyes and felt a wave of warmth and calm wash over me.

It was still early and over the course of the next hour, as more people trickled in, Chris and I sat together at the table, watching and commenting to each other. Two or three times, I spotted a woman who looked like Chris's "type", and turned to ask him if he found her attractive. Each time he just reminded me that we were looking for someone that I found attractive. I apologised to him, realising I hadn't yet seen a woman I was attracted to. He just grinned and said nothing was or would be a problem. I tried to relax again.

The bar got busier, the music got a little louder, and somehow everyone's inhibitions seemed to be getting ever so slightly less rigid. I found myself watching a pair of long-haired women nuzzling each others' necks as they danced near the bar. They looked pretty lost in each other and I realised I was getting lost in watching them. I turned to look at Chris and found him staring at me, smiling. He was watching me watching them. "I'd love to see you dancing like that ..." he said, and at the same time I felt the egg start to vibrate slowly inside me. I turned to Chris, wide-eyed, and he opened his hand briefly, showing me the remote control in his palm. Something changed at that point. Although Chris had quickly turned off the vibrations, he had given me a hint of what he could do. And right there and then I wanted him to make me come. Sitting in that bar. I wanted him to use his remote to make me come while I watched the women dance. I was acutely aware of my nipples, naked under the woven silk shirt...could they be seen by anyone other than Chris?

As those thoughts were making me shift in my seat, I realised I was now staring at a woman who was at the bar, chatting to the barmaid. She was dressed a lot like me – fitted knee-length skirt, open-necked shirt, high heels ... her dark hair was cut in a short, sharp bob. I found my eyes returning to her body and the way her curves moved under her clothes as she shifted her weight from one long leg to the other. Chris's voice in my ear – "Why don't you ask her to dance?" The idea both terrified me and made my stomach lurch with sexual anticipation. "Pour me another drink first," I said, "I need to think about it first".

As Chris poured me a glass of wine, I excused myself and went to the bathroom. Pulled my g-string down, saw how wet the lace was...managed not to touch my clit, but couldn't resist stroking my nipples through the rough silk. I came out of the cubicle and looked back to see two women in the next cubicle, the door open, kissing. One of them had her hand on the other's breast and was pinching the nipple through her clothes. The other smiled at me and threw her head back. I felt my clit swelling again. I washed my hands slowly, looking into the mirror, partly at the two women (who now seemed oblivious to me again) and partly at myself. I looked myself in the eye and made my decision. I took a deep breath.

I opened the bathroom door and saw both Chris at our table and the woman still at the bar. Not even looking at Chris I strode across to the bar, touched the woman on the shoulder and said "If you'd like a seat, there's room at our table". I gestured towards Chris. The woman looked over to him, then turned to me and, with a sweet, good-natured smile, she said "My name's Amy" and walked with me towards our table.

"Amy, this is my husband Chris. I'm Cat. I'm glad you decided to join us."

Chris stood up and shook Amy's hand. She gave him a smile and sat next to me, opposite Chris. We chatted easily for a while. All very mundane and normal – what we did for a living, where we lived, the weather ... the usual. I started to feel really comfortable with Amy; she seemed a very warm and relaxed person. I turned from saying something to Chris and found Amy's eyes on the place where Chris had told me to stop buttoning my shirt...then she looked me in the eye and smiled and there was something in her smile that made me reach over and touch her gently behind her ear. I saw her take a sharp little inward breath and then she smiled again. As I pulled my hand away I felt the egg start to vibrate again. Just gently, slowly. Making me very aware of my cunt as I looked Amy in the eye and asked her if she would like to dance. She smiled again and, as we stood up and I leaned over to kiss Chris on the cheek, I whispered to him, asking him to turn the vibrations off. But he grinned and didn't turn them off. He turned them up a notch. He whispered back to me - "This thing has a range that covers the dance-floor". As I walked, hand in hand with Amy, towards the dance-floor, I felt a trickle of wetness escape the thin lace and roll an inch or two down my inner thigh.

The music was slow, hip-grinding, dirty blues. Amy pulled me into her, with one hand on the small of my back, and we started swaying to the music. It felt odd, another woman's curves against mine – so completely different from everything I was used to. I turned my face into Amy's neck and she smelled of Coco de Chanel and sex. As Amy's hand moved from the small of my back to my buttock, and as it pulled me in closer to her, I felt the egg start to vibrate faster. I looked over Amy's shoulder at Chris, who was looking me right in the eye. His eyes were heavy with that aroused, lecherous look I love in him. I held his eye while I pointedly moved my hands to Amy's buttocks and he slowed the vibrations. But he didn't stop them. My cunt was getting to be pretty much the only thing I could think about and I turned my face to Amy's and kissed her.

I'd already put my mouth to hers before I'd had time to stop and ask myself whether I really wanted to kiss a woman. For a split second as our lips touched I heard my inner voice say "Hang on a second here ..." and then my inner voice shut up as I felt the softness of a woman's mouth gently moving over my lips ... before she pulled her mouth away she ran her tongue lightly over my lower lip and for a second I felt so incredibly turned on that my knees actually went weak. I whispered to Amy that I needed to sit down and we walked, hand in hand, back to the table. Chris watched us coming back and took pity on me and turned the vibrations off. I took a slug of wine and a deep breath. We chatted about nothing much for a while and I felt a sense of control returning. I was still achingly horny, but not in any imminent danger of coming. Amy went to get another bottle of wine. When she was gone, Chris leaned across the table, took my hand in his and told me that watching me like that with another woman had made his cock very hard. Hearing that made me shift in my seat. When Amy came back I asked her to dance again. She smiled and we went back to the dance-floor.

This time it wasn't so restrained. I felt one hand on my buttock and another on the small of my back. I put my arms around Amy's neck and let her pull me into her. I found myself grinding against her and suddenly my inner voice said "What the fuck!" and I pulled her face to mine and kissed her with real desire. As she kissed me back, teasing me again with her tongue, I let my hand drop slowly from her face, tracing a line down her throat, to her breast. I dragged my finger over her bra-clad nipple and felt her tongue in my mouth.

I whispered it in her ear. "Would you like to dance with Chris?" In response she grazed the side of my neck with her lips and murmured "Yes, please ..."

I had a sudden flash of doubt. The thought of Chris even dancing with another woman ... I still wasn't sure whether I could deal with that. Another deep breath and I told myself there was only one way to find out.

Amy and I went back to the table and sat down. Amy turned to Chris and with an intimate smile she asked him to dance. Chris flashed me a wicked smile and took Amy's hand and led her to the dance-floor. As I watched them walk away I did have a little flash of jealousy. I took a sip of wine and reminded myself yet again that I could put a stop to things at any time.

Chris and Amy swayed to the music, his hands loosely linked behind her waist, hers on his shoulders. I watched, sipping wine, and with a sudden rush of arousal I realised I was willing them to get closer to each other. I wanted to see Chris's hands on her hips, see him kiss her neck ... it hadn't occurred to me before that moment, but the thought of watching Chris working his magic on another woman was really turning me on – it was almost like observing the way he worked on me ...

Chris and Amy were talking while they danced, smiling. They were still talking when Amy moved a hand behind Chris's head, pulled him down to her and kissed his mouth. He prolonged the kiss, moving one hand lower and pulling her in. I knew that this might have been a point at which I'd feel dreadful and have to put a stop to things. But I didn't. I just felt very turned on by the sight. I realised my clit was actually throbbing.

Pretty soon – too soon – the music changed and they came back to the table. Chris leaned over and kissed me deep on the mouth. He sat back, smiled and started the egg vibrating again. That was too much. I was horny as hell and I didn't want to be pushed over the edge. Not yet, anyway. I asked Chris PLEASE to turn the egg off, which he did, and I excused myself and went to the bathroom. Caught sight of myself in the mirror – flushed cheeks and a flushed area at the base of my throat. Dirty slut. I went into a cubicle and pulled the egg out. It was slick and hot. I touched my tongue to it, trying to imagine what Amy tasted like, still not sure whether I would be able to handle the taste and feel of another woman's cunt ... I wiped the egg clean. Slipped it into my bag. In front of the mirror I straightened my clothes. My nipples looked obscene, poking into the weave of the shirt. I smiled and couldn't resist cupping my own breasts - just as the bathroom door opened. It was Amy. She looked at me and quickly ran her fingers over her own breasts. She looked very horny, very heavy-eyed. Chris must have been working on her while I was in here. Silently she took my hand and led me into a corner of the room. Gently pressed me against the wall and kissed my throat while she ran a thumb back and forth across my hard nipple. I couldn't believe how good that felt and, as I willed my legs not to buckle, she pulled back and I felt her fingers on my stocking, just above the knee ...