A Hotwife Emerges - Revised

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What the hell is happening in the back seat?
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A Hotwife Emerges - Revised

Below is a much amended version of a story I published several weeks ago. This version is longer with additional anecdotes and more detail for your reading pleasure.

What follows is the story of how one couple's marriage took a surprising turn into a new relationship dynamic.

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I don't drink. My wife, though, loves to imbibe adult beverages. Consequently, I'm always the designated driver. That memorable night was no exception. We were invited to a pool party (July in Dallas) about twenty miles away. A close friend of mine lived nearby and was also invited. We offered to pick him up to ride with us. So far so good.

We spent several enjoyable hours at the party and left around eleven. As usual, I climbed into the driver's seat. My wife, who was feeling no pain, glibly offered to get in back to keep our friend company on the long ride home. I didn't look back much but they were laughing and joking. Mostly I kept my eyes on the road. About half way home it got quiet. I glanced in the rear view mirror and only saw my friend. Did my wife lie down to rest?

I twisted around and saw my wife was lying down, but most definitely not resting. Her head bobbed up and down as her mouth greedily slurped my friend's hard dick. Her bikini top was lying on the seat beside her, but not to worry, her tits were still being supported quite nicely by my friend's hands. He saw me looking and shrugged his shoulders, his eyebrows raised, like it was as much a surprise to him as it was to me.

I said, "Lisa?" My wife stopped for a moment, looked up at me and said, "we'll talk when we get home," then went back to his cock like she was starving and this was her last meal. My friend shrugged again and resumed playing with her tits. As surprising as the scene was, I had to turn back around. We were traveling down a highway. I wanted, no, needed to see what the hell was happening, but not bad enough to wreck the car at seventy miles an hour.

Almost in shock, I squeezed the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. I wasn't sure how to handle this. What the fuck do I do? Yell? Stop the car? Throw up? Unsure, surprised and stunned into indecision, caught in the clutches of analysis paralysis, I didn't stop the car. I rationalized that the damage was already done. A couple of miles from his house, my friend moaned. He had already made it home, in a metaphorical sense.

No longer on the highway, and going much slower, I was able to glance back and forth between the road and the back seat. After my friend's moan, my wife rose up. She, still topless, smiled at me and wiped cum from around her mouth, then leaned against my friend, like this was the most normal thing in the world. As they relaxed in the afterglow together, she lovingly caressed his chest. He gently fondled her breasts for the last few minutes until we arrived.

As we pulled up to his house, my wife and my friend shared a final, long, juicy kiss. He took the opportunity to pinch her nipple and fondle her naked breasts one last time, as I watched. I saw all this clearly since we were stopped and I was staring straight at them.

He opened the door to leave, took a moment to wink at me, and stepped out. My wife snapped her bikini top on and followed him out of the car. She wrapped her arms around him and gave him one more scorching hot kiss goodnight, after which she opened the passenger door and scooted into the front seat with me. Almost like a zombie, I started driving and asked, "What the fuck, Lisa?"

She gave me a devilish little grin and explained. "Well, you know how we have talked about having a threesome sometime?"

"Yeah," I answered, surprised at this start to her explanation. "But the way I remember that conversation, we said if we both wanted to, in the right situation, we might someday do something like that. I also remember we talked about the threesome being with another girl."

"Well, baby" she said, smiling from ear to ear. "Someday turned out to be today and, surprise, the third turned out to be a guy." She laughed out loud. She saw my stunned expression and explained. "Oh, love, don't be angry. It started at the party. I rubbed up against a lot of guys in the pool. A couple of them copped a feel. By the time we left, I was super horny. The alcohol may have helped a teensy bit too." She laughed.

"Anyway, he's your friend so I knew if you ever shared me with a guy, it would be him. Sitting back there, beside him, the mood was right, the person was right, and I decided to go for it. I leaned in for a kiss. He pulled away at first, but pretty soon he kissed back. Things just, you know, went from there." She giggled and traced her finger down my shoulder. I looked over and saw she couldn't wipe that stupid grin off her face. She was so damn happy.

I stared ahead, still holding the steering wheel with an iron grip. Realizing, apparently for the first time, that I might not share her giddy joy, she said softly, "Umm, you enjoyed it too, right?"

"Enjoy it? How could I? I wasn't even there. You do understand that a threesome means all three of us, but I was busy driving the car. My part was hearing him moan and you slurping." I frowned my disapproval.

"Oh," she replied softly. I stared ahead as I drove, letting my mind jump from thought to thought, still unsure whether to yell at her unexpected betrayal or acknowledge that the view, at least there at the end after we stopped, was, in fact, hot as hell. At least it would have been if it hadn't been my wife I was watching.

She slipped down in her seat, disappointed, instantly more sober than she had been moments before. She sniffled and looked out the window. A few minutes later, as we entered our neighborhood, she swiveled in the passenger seat to look at me. "Look, love. I know you couldn't see much while we were on the highway and I guess that was stupid of me to start with him while you were in the front seat driving. But after we stopped, you watched as we kissed goodnight. I know you did. He played with my boobs while we made out right in front of you. You watched that." I turned her direction and nodded, reluctantly.

"So, baby, did you at least you enjoy that part, you know, watching us after we stopped? I wanted you to enjoy it too, you know. Really. I wanted you to get turned on too. That's why I waited until after we stopped to give him that long kiss and let him play with my boobs when you could watch before I put my top back on. And of course you watched us kiss goodnight outside the car."

She gazed away, lost in thought, savoring the memory. Finally, she continued. "I mean, we talked about this. You know we did. Please don't be angry. I guess I didn't handle it the best, not discussing it first and then doing it while you had to drive. I did kinda get carried away, didn't I?"

"You think," I exclaimed. staring ahead, still trying to decide if I should be furious, or, if I could relax and accept that my wife had simply made an executive decision for the team. We had talked about something like this, so how mad could I really be? True, she fumbled the timing so I had a right to be angry at how she did it, but yes, we had talked and hoped for something like this in our relationship. Trying to understand her actions, and uncomfortable with the silence, I dully asked, "So, was it fun?" I knew as soon as I asked that it was a stupid question.

Her frown instantly snapped back to a broad smile. "Oh hell, yes," she answered, giggling like a school girl. Speaking quickly she spewed, "I know we should have talked first. Sorry. Please don't be upset. But, wow babe, that was so fun. I mean, of course kissing handsome guy is fun. But what made it so damn hot was knowing you were right there, enjoying it with me. I loved you watching him play with my boobs while we kissed 'cause I knew that would turn you on." The sentences poured out so fast, I'm not sure if she took a breath between them.

She reached for my shoulder and tenderly rubbed my arm. "Next time we should plan it so that we are all together before anything starts so you get to see everything. (...next time???)

Seeing my surprise, she hurriedly added. "We can invite him over for barbecue next weekend. You know he'll accept, after what happened tonight." She giggled, her smile again plastered across her face. "I can make out with both of you, then fuck him in our bed. You can lie beside us and watch right up close. You'll get to see everything. Or if you want, you guys can take turns with me. How about it? Please baby. Wouldn't that be fun?"

And that's how we started. Happy wife, happy life.

We did have that barbecue the next week. And, of course, he did accept the invitation. But we also eventually had those threesomes with women we had talked about. And while we both very much enjoyed our occasional trysts with women, over time we had more threesomes with men. This happened gradually and naturally, due to that joke God plays on us all, the cruel irony of biology. Men's sexual desire peaks in their late teens, women's sexual desire peaks in their late thirties. As time passed, my desire for sex slowed, her desire for sex grew.

A decade had passed since that first surprising night. At that point, I was less able to keep her sated than when we were younger. I wanted time to do other "things" but she wanted time to do other "men". She would never do anything without my approval, but after dozens of partners, jealousy was no longer an issue. I enjoyed her playing with other men almost as much as she did. Compersion it's called. So why not let her go out on her own? It seemed like a natural evolution for her to start dating guys solo, essentially becoming a hotwife. Did this transition bother her? Hell, no. She took to being a hotwife like a duck to water.

She loved her experiences as a hotwife, the excitement of new relationship energy, the dancing and partying. And of course, the sex. But like anything that is fun, she almost burst wanting to talk about it, tell someone, share it, giggle about it. But besides me, who could she tell? Who could she talk with about something so unconventional?

She decided to tell her best friend, Laura, who happened to be married. She agonized for weeks over the decision, asking my advice, going back and forth, hoping she wouldn't lose her friendship. Finally she confessed her secret. To her great joy, instead of condemning, her friend was thrilled at the news. "You're not going to judge me?" Lisa asked.

"Judge you. Hell, I want to be you," Laura replied laughing. "But my husband would never go for anything like that. You'll have to tell me every time you go out so I can experience the whole married but dating thing vicariously through you." The two women squealed and giggled like school girls.

Over time, Laura went from only a confidant to an enabler. She would go out with my wife on a 'girls night out' to act as her wing man, or wing woman in this case. She found it fascinating that we did this as a team, no cheating or hiding anything. She loved to tease me, never failing to text me photos of Lisa making out with some guy in a club, accompanied with a silly message like, "Don't wait up, hubby." Smiley face. Or, "I'll make sure she gets home on time.....for work Monday." Winky face, devil face, smiley face.

If the two of them weren't out hunting for guys at clubs, Laura would drop by to visit. She loved sitting at the kitchen table with both of us, casually drinking coffee and talking about my wife's latest date. She would ask about the date, if they had sex, how good the guy was and stuff like that. She loved doing that with me sitting there, sometimes teasing me about it, asking if the guy was better in bed than "what's his name" pointing at me, then turning to smirk, anything to get a rise out of me.

She apologized to me once. She told me that I was such a nice guy, she almost felt bad encouraging and helping my wife date other guys, but, she said, winking at me,"how can I enjoy different sexual experiences vicariously if she only sleeps with you?" Over time, my wife treated her to lots of vicarious sexual experiences.

One Saturday morning after a particularly raucous date with a real hunk, Laura casually mentioned something about how fun it must be for Lisa to get to make out with a guy who could make her toes curl. I raised my eyebrow. Lisa, who was taking dishes out of the dishwasher at the time, turned to look at me, sensing my response. I nodded at her and stood. I walked around the table and took Laura's hands in mine, pulling her up from the table. "What's going on? She asked.

I looked at Lisa. She looked back with understanding. I pulled Laura against me. Laura looked quizzically at Lisa, who smiled, shrugged and turned to resume her chores. Laura looked back at me, our faces inches apart, feeling my breath on her face as I felt hers on mine. I reached behind her head to gently taste her lips. Surprised, she resisted a moment, then opened her mouth, allowing our tongues to play. I slid my hands across her back, squeezing her body tightly against me. She rubbed her hands in my hair. Our kissing intensified, my hands squeezing her firm butt cheeks, pulling her groin against my hard penis. I lifted one hand to her breast, squeezing and rubbing, pinching her nipple. Minutes passes as I continued our frantic kissing unabated. She moaned softly. Finally, I pulled away, ending the kiss. She panted. "Wow," she whispered, regaining her breath.

I looked into her eyes. "You're married and you don't have permission to play, so that's all we're ever gonna do. But I wanted you to know Lisa plays because she likes to, and because I don't mind, but not because I can't make her toes curl anymore."

"I see that," Laura replied, straightening her hair. I heard Lisa giggle.

"And I'm a full partner in all this. I don't own Lisa, but if I'm not happy..." I looked at Lisa.

"It's full stop," Lisa answered to finish the sentence. "This is a team sport. Our marriage always comes first. Sure, the playing with other guys is fun, but I happen to love ole what's his name," she teased, looking at me. "He is always my number one."

"Ah, you guys are so sweet," Laura answered. "And a little kinky," she added with a chuckle.

We lived in a large city (Dallas) and there were lots of clubs. Lisa liked to dance. I was not as keen on it, but did join her from time to time, usually with a group. It's way more fun in a group. We would switch dance partners and stuff, not in a sexual way, just to enjoy each other and have fun together. Normal vanilla friends stuff. We preferred country western clubs because the music was easy to dance to.

Sometimes we guys would prefer to sit and the ladies would dance with each other. After a dance or two of just the ladies, other guys would invariably join them on the dance floor, which would lead to our wives dancing with strangers from time to time.

Dancing with strangers could get a little sexual. My wife would laugh on the ride home and tell me about the guy who grabbed a bit of tit or stole a quick kiss when they were on the far side of the dance floor. But nothing too wild happened when we were with our 'vanilla' friends, as most of our friends were.

The vanilla dancing did, however, give us an idea for a non-vanilla game. One night we went to a club together, just me and my wife, no friends. We settled into a booth in the darkest corner. My wife ordered her drink and started to scope out the guys. After perusing the possibilities and downing a few glasses of courage, my wife decided on her favorite. She pointed and said, "him". I walked over to the guy. I told him it was my wife's birthday and she really loved to dance. I didn't want to disappoint her, so here we were, even though I had a sprained ankle.

I asked the guy if he would do me a favor and dance with my wife so she could have some fun on her birthday and not have to just sit in a booth with me the whole time. He seemed surprised, but said, "Sure, I'll dance with her." He followed me back to the booth and very gentlemanly asked if she would like to dance. She had a twinkle in her eye when she smiled and accepted his hand. So far, the plan was working as we had hoped.

My wife and I liked the plan because I would be there, so she would feel safe. I could watch so also fun for me. And she wouldn't have to fend off guys she didn't like. This way, I got her the guy she wanted and she felt safe with me near by. Win, win.

They danced through two dongs, then came back to the booth. She invited him to join us. I was sitting on the edge of the booth on my side, so she scooted into the booth on the other side and pulled him in beside her, across from me. We talked, with her leaning into his shoulder, touching his arm and stuff, on their side of the booth. Her flirting and touching appeared to make him uncomfortable with me sitting right across from them.

After resting a couple of songs, they went back out to the dance floor. They danced their way to the far side of the room, away from me. I knew she guided him, or let him guide her, to a spot out of my sight in order to get more friendly without him being concerned about her husband watching.

The next time they came to the booth, he didn't hesitate to slide in beside her. My wife snuggled tight against him. Gaining courage, he placed his arm over her shoulders with his hand dangling near her breast, his fingers hovering less than an inch over her clearly aroused nipple visible through her blouse. Lisa looked at his fingers almost grazing her nipple and looked at me with a coy smile. He started to ask me a question but hesitated. My wife giggled and said, "go ahead, ask him." As she said this, she reached up to his hand dangling over her breast, and pulled it against her.

The guy seemed taken aback. He glanced at his hand on her breast, with her hand over his holding it tight against her. He looked back at me. Surprised, he managed to mumble, "Uh, your wife said for her birthday you gave her permission to do whatever she wants with other guys here at the club." He glanced again at his hand on her breast. "I don't want to get you angry or anything, so, is that true?"

I looked at his hand on her breast and snickered, "Looks that way, doesn't it." I raised my eyebrows like I was slightly embarrassed, then looked him in the eye. "Yeah, I gave her a limited hall pass. She can't go home with a guy or anything like that, but here in the club, anything she wants to do is okay."

My wife leaned into the guy, pulled his head toward her and whispered, "Like this." She started to make out with him. She was three feet away from me, her luscious lips smashed against his, their tongues playing together. She rubbed her hand across his chest as they kissed, his hand still holding her boob..

The kiss lasted several seconds but he seemed reluctant. Sensing his hesitation, she pulled her lips away from his and turned toward me. "Look what I'm doing, babe," she quipped. She lowered her hand down his chest until it disappeared under the table. Suddenly he flinched and I knew she had grabbed his cock. She giggled, looked into the eyes of her new friend and said, "see, it's okay," then went back to making out. Yep, that convinced him.

The rest of the night they alternated between dirty dancing and making out in our booth. Late in the evening, I went to the restroom. It was pretty dark in the corner where our booth was, but when I was coming back and got close, I could see under the table that he had his fingers slipped inside her dress and she had her hand inside his pants.

I sat down across from them. Lisa moaned a few times through kisses then raised her hand up to reveal moist precum on her fingers. She looked straight into my eyes as she slid the fingers into her mouth and sucked the precum off, then lowered her hand back under the table. I noticed people nearby looking our way. I nudged Lisa with my foot under the table. She looked up. I nodded my head in the direction of the next table. She understood. She and her friend separated slightly. They finished their drinks and returned to the dance floor.

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