A Missing Button Started It All Ch. 01

"Wow and double wow!" George turned to Rick. "You are a lucky man. Not only is your wife intelligent, slender, and beautiful, she is also sexy as hell!"

"Thank you, kind sir," Rick said with a broad smile.

"Tell me, what was that about a project being completed?" George asked the two of us in general but was interrupted as the waitress came back with our drinks.

"Do you want to tell him, my love?" Rick asked me as he took a sip from his cocktail.

"Oh, what the hell. Why not." First, I had to take a long sip from my drink for some liquid encouragement.

"George, that little project was my husband asking me to remove my panties. Keep in mind that he asked for this before you showed up." I added that last part with the idea that it would make me seem less of a slut.

"Great project. I approve," George gave me a wink.

I continued. "So, I went to the lady's room and did just that. I took them off and put them in my purse." I know my face was turning red from embarrassment just then. This conversation was wildly out of the norm for me.

"Show him, Rachael," Rick prodded.

"My panties?"

"No. Your pussy. Show us that delightful pussy of yours. Prove to us that you aren't wearing any panties." There was a definite tone of excitement from my husband when he asked this.

Did he really want me to expose my pussy to a stranger? It would seem so.

I looked first to my husband and then to George. Both men were just watching me to see what I would do.

Could I really do something like this?

Well, this was a night of firsts and lines were being crossed so why the hell not! Then, a devilish thought crossed my mind. "You do it, George. I'll just look forward and admire the ambiance of the bar while you check out what I look like without panties."

Did I just give a near-stranger permission to adjust my skirt so that he could see my bare twat? It would seem so.

George, seeing a nod of approval from my husband, and then looking around to see that none of the few people in the bar were looking our way, turned more toward me, reached under the table, and put his right hand on my knee.

Ever so slowly, he nudged the material of my skirt upward. With each move, he let his fingers drift along the tops and insides of my thighs.

Another man was exploring my bare upper thighs. He was only a short distance from my center. My cunt. My pussy.

I should stop him but the look in my husband's eyes was nothing but encouragement. To be honest, I didn't want this to stop.

"It is beautiful," I soon heard George's low voice in my ear. "I love how you leave a small runway of hair there!"

My husband did too. At one time, after deciding to get rid of that full bush, I went totally bald on my pussy. Later, I evolved to having a runway about an inch wide. I rather preferred it this way.

"You folks seem to be having fun."

It was Marsha, our waitress. She had returned to service our table and, in doing so, now found me sitting there with George staring down at my crotch while gently gliding his fingertips along my soft skin. She also saw my husband intently watching this action.

"Yes, you are definitely having way more fun than most of my customers. I highly approve!" Marsha had a beaming and cute face and I liked that she was accepting of what was happening. She could just as easily have put a halt to our actions.

My husband gave her a large tip asking for her to keep others away and she promised to do so as much as she could. She then slyly added that she would frequently be stopping by to check out our progress. With that, she left to seat someone who had just entered the bar.

George had removed his hand from my center, but he kept my legs and pussy open to view. Given where I was sitting at that booth only George and Rick could see me. Still, I felt as if I was fully open for the world to view.

"May I kiss you?" George asked me as he turned me to face him.

"No. George, I'm sorry but no kissing. That enjoyable activity is too romantic. It should just be between my husband and me."

"How about touching?" This was from my husband.

"You want for him to touch me? You want for another man to feel your wife's body?"

"Only if you want it too."

"It would excite you if he felt me up, wouldn't it?"

"Yes." That simple response could be life-altering and we both knew it.

So, the burden of choosing how this evening was to proceed was totally on me. Well, it is my body after all so I should be the one deciding what happens with it. Still, a weird part of me wanted to be told what to do.

This made me think of when Rick and I had sex. Our default was for him to do things to me or guide me to do things to him. I was his plaything and I liked that. Now, he was making me decide how or if I was to be played with.

I took another long sip of my drink. It was almost empty now. Perhaps sensing this, Marsha came back to our table and stood at the edge of the booth, and looked down at us.

My eyes locked with that beautiful younger woman. It was as if we had a weird connection of some sort. So, well, with things as strange as they were, I decided to put the question to her. "My husband," I nudged Rick so that Marsha would know which of the two men was my husband, "would like for our new friend here to feel me up."

"Sounds interesting," she responded cautiously.

"I've never done anything like this. Well, not since college anyway. What do you think?"

"As long as I can watch, then definitely."

I chuckled. "Having you watch might just add to this weird event," I responded to her then turned to George. "Well, George. You heard her. Have fun."

Within seconds I felt George's hand move inside my blouse and soon he was cupping my left breast in his hand. That hand on me felt incredible!

"Show her to me." It was Marsha as she stood there. "No one can see you here in this booth."

George pulled his hand away and with one quick motion pulled my top totally open so that both breasts were fully exposed to her. It would seem that I had little to say about this full exposure.

"You are luscious," Marsha said.

"They are delightfully firm. High and firm," George said in admiration of my chest. He continued running his hands over my tits and soon was pinching my nipples.

Both Marsha and Rick watched intently. I just leaned back and let George have fun.

I liked those pinches to my buds. The first time my husband had pinched a nipple years ago I had objected. It seemed wrong to be treated like that. Later, and very carefully, he went back to that and now I found it exciting.

Now, I was having another man pinch my nipples and the firm buds were attesting to the enjoyment of this. George was a master at building my excitement as he alternated from feather-light touches to firm pinches.

I was in heaven and I wanted more. I wanted his hands between my legs. I wanted his hands all over my body.

"Crap!" It was Marsha, completely spoiling the mood.

I pulled out of my mental happy place upon hearing Marsha utter this.

"Guys, a group is coming in. Sorry, but you need to put her back together as I will need to sit them near here. Sorry."

She turned and left us saying she would delay them as long as possible. I quickly put my top back to rights. Soon, my blouse was fully buttoned, and my skirt pulled back to its prim position.

Just in time. A group of middle-aged women, seemingly from a conference being held at the hotel, were soon sitting at a table a few feet from us.

The party was over. My face was flushed red with a mix of feelings, but we all knew that this incredible event was at an end.

Marsha came back to our table and acted as if nothing had happened. She really couldn't have said much as the people who were now near us would have heard her. Rick paid for our drinks and we told her how much we liked meeting her.

There was a lot to those simple words. Far more than just saying thank you for her service. We all knew it but nothing else could be said.

One interesting aside was when she gave me a card with a phone number on it. Her number. I found it doubly interesting that the card was given to me and not one of the men. She simply said, "Anytime. Anyplace."

Was I being hit on by another woman? It would seem the answer was yes.

We went into the small hotel lobby and George asked if we would like to come up to his room to have a drink.

"George, we all know that asking us up for a drink is a euphemism for you having sex with me."

The look on his face confirmed this.

"I loved having your hands on me. I loved showing you my body. I loved having my husband get excited while this was happening," I said all of this in a low voice so no one else could hear. "George, I can't do more than that now. I can't go upstairs. I'm sorry if I led you on."

"Don't be sorry. This has been an incredible evening and I will remember it forever." With that, he gave me a hug, said his goodbyes, and left for the elevator to head up to his room alone.

It was time to go home. I wanted to be in bed with Rick and I wanted for us to be kinky together. Not with others.

Still, all of those "what ifs" kept running through my mind. Who knows? Maybe someday. Maybe.

END OF PART I