Husband Shares his Bed and his Wife

"You sound jealous. It's not a 'date.' I'm going out with you tonight. We just happen to be seeing my old friend Christoph since he's in town."

Who was she trying to convince, me or herself? She'd already been to the mall twice, buying and returning outfits. Now she stood in front of her full length mirror in our bedroom, fixing her long dark hair in her hottest black lace panties and matching half-cup bra. While technically I knew she'd never slept with this German guy—who she got to know when he came for a year as an exchange student to her high school in Maryland—I'd heard way too much about him over the years not to know that on some level she'd always wanted him. Whenever I was in the room and her sister would bring his name up, asking for new updates from my wife who followed him Facebook, she'd look a little nervous and stare at the ground. "He's fine," she'd say, clearly not wanting me to see her that interested.

I sat on the bed, already dressed, watching her turn and check out her own perfectly shaped bottom, raised up by her new grey suede half-boots with tall heels she'd also bought for the occasion.

Half-playfully, I let her know I was on to her. "We finally book a room in the city and get an entire night out for ourselves, your sister agrees to take the kids, and I have to share you with your secret crush."

"Well, you're not sharing me," she replied, asking me to bring her the large bag of new clothes to go through. "I'm your date tonight, like I've been for our last 20 years together." She took two outfits to the bed. As she tried them on, I noticed they both showed off her ass and cleavage way more than usual. Of course I knew she was only pretending not to be so interested in him, just like I was pretending to be so offended by her dressing up for another guy. It's a little game we've always played with her flirtations, an unspoken agreement that seemed to make our married sex life a lot more exciting. In her later 40's and always dressing as well as acting upscale, she attracts a lot of attention. Ultimately, though, she has remained faithful to me. If anything, I wish she'd get more adventurous.

We've never actually crossed the line with her having sex with another guy, but we've come closer to my ultimate fantasy the longer we've been together, at least with her little flirtations. Still, she told me matter of fact when I'd brought it up again that there's no way it would ever really happen. I wish it were otherwise, but I unfortunately have come to believe her. Even though Nicolette is really attractive and even flirtatious, she's also rather demur. She'll turn me on, along with other guys, but when it comes to actual sex she is way too conservative. She won't even take real sexual risks with her own husband, much less someone else.

It's been a kind of torture for me, but seeing her stand there in front of the full-length mirror in our 5 star hotel and ask me if she looks okay while she knows I want to rip her new black dress off of her and hold her up against the wall, I have to say I'm grateful to have such a hot wife who still turns me on. It's like she simultaneously makes herself my comfortable life-partner, while tempting me with the possibility of another guy taking her. Tonight's added intrigue of an almost old flame she clearly has always wanted made things even more interesting.

After she finally settled on a classy but revealing black dress, we went to meet Christoph at this Italian restaurant we both like but haven't been to that much since we had kids. The whole time in the Uber I tried to come onto her, putting my hand on her thigh and leaning over to kiss her. She kept telling me to stop, obviously preoccupied with meeting her old friend.

"You look amazing," he said as he embraced her in front of the restaurant. He held her for quite a while, a little too long for a simple friendly greeting. I felt more jealous than I'd anticipated, but also a lot more turned on. Thankfully he was a gentleman, pulling away quickly as he noticed my watching with concern. "Sorry," he said in a thick German accent, "I don't mean to hold your wife so close. We're just good friends, yeah?" I appreciated his check in. "Of course," I replied, "Nicolette has told me a lot about you. I'm glad we could arrange this get together."

As safe as this felt, his attempt to show me right away that he intended to honor boundaries around our marriage seemed to give my wife permission to get really flirtatious. As the hostess walked us to our table, she chose the seat next to him. "I'm so glad you've kept your bangs long," she said, brushing his hair back with her fingers. "You've always looked so good like this." Of course she knew this drove me crazy, both with desire and jealousy, but she hadn't looked at me once since sitting down. Christoph did, however, and when he saw me give him an approving smile, he felt safe enough to respond. "And look at you," he said, touching the side of her face with his fingertips. "You are more beautiful than I remember."

Ironically, their mutually flirting in front of me was all that kept me into this dinner. Their reminiscing about a high school I didn't attend and people I'd never met really made me feel like a third wheel. So when she laughed too much at something he said and put her hand on his arm, and he reciprocated by putting his arm around her as if she were his hot date rather than mine, I at least got to enjoy my own arousal. I started to fantasize about them together, though I knew it would never happen.

By the time we ordered desert and coffee, she started to shut down all hope of sex. He'd had a lot to drink, and was feeling a lot more comfortable with having his way with my wife in front of me. She'd drawn him closer all evening, but when he tried to take things further by putting his hand on her thigh, she quickly put herself off limits, just like she so often did with me when things got too transgressive.

At first she let him keep his hand there, but she stopped laughing, and talking, so passionately. Then, when I could tell that he started to move his hand up her thigh as he casually asked me about my work, she looked at me for the first time. I could tell she was a little disturbed, maybe as much from his bold advances as the fact that I was watching, and even approving of them. She seemed paralyzed, wanting me to stop it. Of course I didn't, so he got even more aggressive, while still pretending to be interested in what I do. "How cool to work with those great bands, recording their music," he said, moving his hand further up, and into, my wife's new dress.

Just then she snapped, springing up so quickly that she rattled the drinks and silverware on our table. "I'll...I'll be right back," she said awkwardly, slipping out from under his hand, then pulling her dress down as she got up to walk to the restroom.

Christoph actually turned to watch her walk away, staring hard at her ass like it was his real dessert. "You are a lucky man," he said, now looking back to me.

"It looks like you are too," I replied. "She's obviously into you."

"Into me?" Though seemingly fluent in English, I could tell he wasn't sure what I meant.

"Yeah. She likes you...not just as a friend, you know? Maybe more...for sex."

"But you're her husband. That would bother you, no?" he asked, leaning toward me with serious interest.

"No. I would find it exciting," I replied, pouring more coffee for him, then for me. He nodded his head and smiled.

I couldn't believe I'd said it, but it was super obvious at this point and maybe more importantly, I knew there was no way she'd really go for it anyway. Sure she loves his attention, even needs it on some level, but this is a woman that with her own husband gets too freaked out by dirty talk to even keep going through with sex. I guess I felt like I had nothing to lose by entertaining the fantasy. Plus, I liked seeing her teasing come back to haunt her, with me and her old friend calling her bluff. She'd started this little power play with us at a much deeper level. Now we were winning.

She'd put on more lipstick, but she still seemed a lot more reserved upon her return, afraid he would really start back where he'd left off. She didn't sit as close to him this time. We had an uneventful but pleasant wind down, then as I paid the bill (despite his gentlemanly protests to cover it), she started to say goodbye.

"Well, it's been so great catching up with you, Christoph. I'm sorry you have to go back to Germany tomorrow. I wish we had more time to visit."

As we walked out together, I once again noticed his carry-on luggage he wheeled to the sidewalk, remembering he was leaving in the morning. I asked him where he was staying, thinking maybe we could at least escort him there.

"I thought I'd spend the night at my friend Frank's place. I've known him forever. We grew up together, back in Germany. But his wife and son are really sick, so maybe I shouldn't go there. I guess I'll find a hotel. Do you know of a good one that's not so expensive near the airport?"

"We have a suite with a sofa," I replied, "and it's only a 20 minute Uber ride to the airport in the morning. Come out with us tonight, then stay at our hotel." My wife gave me a wide-eyed look, like what the fuck are you thinking, but I could tell she was also maybe a little excited with the spontaneous change of plans. Though I was convinced that she wouldn't let anything happen, I also knew that she would at least enjoy the shift in our usual routine as a couple. Sure, I wouldn't get laid in the hotel, but at least the thought of them wanting each other would keep me more turned on than ever.

"Are you sure I wouldn't be imposing?" he asked, looking first to me, then to her. "You two had a date, no? Maybe Nicolette, she wants to be alone with you?"

"Don't be silly," she said. "I see my husband all the time. Join us. We can catch up some more. Come on, we're going to the movies."

We walked toward the theater, with Nicolette in between us. "Lucky us, Christoph," I told him, taking her hand. "Now we both have a date with a beautiful woman."

"Lucky for sure," he replied, grabbing her other hand.

She let us walk like this all the way to the ticket booth outside. Then, after getting a large popcorn to share, she agreed to sit between us in the back row. Not that anything would happen here, but I liked the idea that if it did there was nobody around us for a few rows. After playful banter and more catching up between them, she got a lot more comfortable. I was hoping for greater intrigue, but at the same time I was afraid that once again he'd go too far too fast and scare her away.

Thankfully, things happened slowly and relatively safely. Half way through the movie, we collectively finished the bucket of popcorn she held between us in her lap. She put it down, and I reached for hand. Just like in the street, Christoph reached for the other. He did it a little overtly, theatrically even, showing her and me as well that it was just in the spirit of light fun.

I could tell Nicolette still felt safe, but also a little excited. As the movie dragged a little, then reached a rather steamy sex scene, she tightened the grip on my hand. I reached with my other hand to turn her face to me, then we started to kiss. That in itself was really surprising, since she hated public displays of affection. When we stopped, Christoph leaned over, almost between us, and whispered, "Don't I get a kiss too? I thought we were both taking you on this date?"

She nervously smiled, then looked to me. "You'll have to ask my husband for permission," she whispered.

"You can kiss him," I replied.

Maybe that doesn't seem like a big deal for those who actually share their wives, but for me it's only been a secret fantasy that Nicolette won't even let me talk about, not even during sex. Watching her let him kiss her beautiful mouth in that theater as he firmly put his hand back on her knee felt as transgressive as actual sex to me. She pulled back, obviously a little shy as she attempted to restrain her own desire. Out of respect, or maybe just out of fear that he'd upset her, he took his hand off of her knee.

"Is that all he gets?" I whispered. "He's our guest. You're being rude." She turned back to him, and as they kissed I leaned over to see him putting his tongue in her mouth. That really freaked me out. She only let me French kiss her during intercourse when she was close to coming. When he put his hand back on her, I put my hand on her other knee. As they kept kissing, both of us started slowly moving our hands up her dress, pulling her legs a little more apart as we worked our way toward the black laced panties I'd seen her put on earlier in the hotel. I got there before him, but just as I started to gently stroke my fingers on her she shut it down.

"Okay," she said firmly, grabbing both of our wrists. "That's as far as we go tonight on this date. I'm a good girl." I actually got a little self-conscious, since she said it louder than a whisper. A couple of people actually looked back.

Of course we didn't push our luck, both of us settling back into holding her hand. Though frustrated, I also appreciated that she could set her own boundaries, especially because she could flirt more on her own terms without the fear of things getting out of control. On the walk to the hotel she let Christoph tell her how all the guys wanted her back in high school, just as they all still would if they saw how she hadn't really changed.

"You're sweet," she said, letting him put his arm around her waist as we waited for the "Walk" sign to cross the avenue. I let them go a little ahead of me now, volunteering to take his carry on suitcase for a while to watch them act more like a couple. Suspecting that this might get as close to my fantasy of sharing her tonight, I put some distance between us to enjoy the sight of her getting a lot of attention from a friend she always found so attractive.

Unlike so many erotic stories I read about wives getting it on with other guys in front of their husbands, nothing happened on the hotel ride up to our floor, or even in the room. I wanted him to make some kind of move, and for her to let him get what I know he wanted. Sadly, things turned really practical, with her taking one sheet and a pillow from our bed to make up the sofa for him. I clicked through channels as they talked a little more, asking each other if they remembered certain people and events from their past. Soon she rather coldly cut our evening short by saying, "Well, you better get to bed, Christoph, since you have such an early flight to catch."

"Of course," he said, getting the hint that the fun was over. "Thanks again for letting me stay." He took his pants off without shame, laying them on the side of the sofa, then got his toiletry bag from his suitcase. Nicolette looked visibly affected with him her underwear. She turned much too self-consciously away from him as he walked by her on the way to the bathroom.

"You know, it doesn't have to be the end of our evening," I said, as she got out her overnight bag, waiting for her turn in the bathroom. "I mean, we rarely have a night out in such a great hotel, and never with a mutual friend."

"Okay, I know what you're thinking," she said matter of fact, "and it's not happening. You've had your little fantasy with me, and it was fun, but this is as far as it goes. Since you're dying for sex we can do something when he leaves in the morning, okay? Now get it out of your mind."

When Christoph came out she stomped away, a little upset, but more just to show me that she meant what she said. With her gone, our guest settled onto the sofa. He was a fairly big guy, at least 6'3" or even 6'4, so his feet draped off the end. He tried laying them at an angle, so they wouldn't hit the ground, but that was clearly uncomfortable. Then he moved the footrest so he could lay his feet on it to the side. Still, it seemed awkward.

"Look man," I told him, "that sofa isn't as big as I thought it was. You have to get up in 5 hours, and you're taking a long flight home. You need some sleep. Why don't you share the bed with us?"

Nicolette was coming out just as I said it, wearing her sleeveless top without a bra and matching short pajama bottoms that really showed off her ass. "I have real problems with that," she said, looking directly at me. "I'm sorry Christoph; I want you to be comfortable, but I was just telling my husband that we can't go any further."

It was a real drag to hear her so explicitly name the little game we'd been playing, but I understood. Once she overtly called out what we all so obviously wanted to happen, the fun was pretty much over. With nothing to lose, though, I thought I'd try to push just a little more, at least so I could entertain my own fantasy.

"What if we both promise to just sleep next to you?" I said. "I mean, look at your poor friend, his spine is crooked. It's a big bed, and he's in real discomfort. You can sleep here next to her without sex, right Christoph?"

"Of course," he replied, "but I don't want to upset you, Nicolette." Thankfully he didn't look too blatantly lustful as he said it, though like me he fully registered her small, firm breasts in that thin cotton top, along with her beautiful legs and ass in her short bottoms. I saw him adjust his cock in his underwear, and I think she might have saw the same move for a second at least, before once again turning away in shame.

"Fine," she said. "But both of you, keep your hands to yourself."

We settled in with her between us, just like our seating arrangement at the movies. After we talked awhile, I turned the TV off, and the conversation started to die down. I rightly suspected it would really piss her off, but I had to make one final attempt. I put my hand on her ass under the covers, whispering, "Are you sure we have to go to sleep?"

"That's it. You're going to the sofa!" she said, whacking my hand away and pushing me off to the side.

"Come on, I'll behave," I replied, laughing as I got up use the restroom. Christoph laughed a little too, but restrained himself, obviously not wanting to upset her. "You can't blame your husband," he said in my defense. "He finds you so sexy, yah? It's natural."

"Well, he needs to behave himself, Christoph, and he knows it. Otherwise, he's on the sofa."

Of course I had every intention of laying back down beside her upon my return, and I knew I wouldn't keep trying in vain to initiate sex. Even so, right before I shut the door to the bathroom, mostly to just to playfully upset her a little more since she wouldn't follow through with my fantasy, I added, "But I did bring extra condoms. Christoph, if you need to use them I'll leave a couple on the counter."

"You jerk!" she cried, throwing a pillow at the door as I closed it.

Coming back into bed in my underwear, I apologized a lot, and after that I did honor my commitment to behave. Things got quiet, but I knew none of us were sleeping. Laying on her back, her breathing was still kind of tense, and I could tell he was shifting around too much to really have drifted off. I stayed as still as possible, but I felt way too distracted by my raging hard on. There's no way the thought of something happening between us would ever let me fall asleep.

This went on for over an excruciating hour. Then, just when I'd decided to go into the bathroom to jerk off, I felt the bed move more than usual. I could the rustle of the sheets, along with her suddenly much louder and more rapid breathing. When she turned her back to me, to completely face him, I knew for sure something was happening. He was touching her, at least, and she was letting him. What's crazy is that they were both trying so hard to keep it contained, like they were hiding it from me. They had to know I could never sleep with the thought of her between both of us.