Limo Fun

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Wife plays with foreign client in limo to the airport.
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(This goes a little further than we actually did, but it was really fun.)

*

We're out to dinner with a client from Europe. German. Karl's English isn't very good, but he seems nice. Forties, tall, thin, blond, very handsome, very Aryan youth. He's a little arrogant, too, no surprise. And he's, well, overly friendly. Very touchy feely. She's not used to this, but I ask her, Don't make waves, sweetie. There is a big deal in the offing here. Spare no expense.

We're all in the limo after dinner. We have a long way to go. His plane back is late tonight, and the airport is a solid hour away in traffic. We're all sitting close, three across the back seat. We all had a lot of very good wine with dinner and are feeling warm and chummy. And the privacy screen is up. At one point, I put my arm around her and kiss her.

When we break and she sits back, he leans over and kisses her, too. This is a little surprising but not offensive. She looks at me, "What do I do?"

I return her look with an affirmation, "This is not a problem, is it? No big deal." He leans in again, this time for a longer kiss, and he puts one arm behind her and the other hand across to her shoulder to hold her. Now she has a slightly worried look. I shrug, Go ahead. She leans back against me, turning a little toward him. He pushes forward to kiss her again, harder and deeper this time. Their mouths are open and their tongues are playing with each other. Serious kissing, not just a friendly peck, but the sort of kiss that speaks of serious interest.

His hand slides down her arm from her shoulder, and then inward, and his palm is over her breast. Whoa. He is feeling her breast now, clearly a sexual touch, cupping its roundness in his hand. And he kneads it and pinches it with his fingers. I watch him cup her breast and I'm jealous. That's my breast. I should be feeling that, as I have so often. She moves his hand down to her waist and they break the kiss. She turns back to me with big eyes. She has an alarmed look, she kisses me, puts her cheek to mine and whispers, "He's putting his hands on me, he's feeling me up. Did you see his hand on my boob? This is too much. . . ."

"It's okay with me if it's okay with you, sweetie. We'll be at the airport in a few minutes and he'll be gone. Let's not end the evening on a sour note."

She nods and turns back to him and they kiss again, longer and deeper. He gets much more aggressive now. I guess he understands that he has limited access and limited time. He runs his hands over her breasts again, cupping and squeezing, and finding the nipples to pinch. I watch him slide his hand all over the top of her dress, over her breasts, cupping them, kneading them, trying to find the nipples through the fabric. This isn't an innocent touch. It's clearly a lover's touch. He's starting to have sex with my wife. I'm jealous, but I'm turned on at the same time.

He slides his hand down from her breast to her hip and onto her leg. Over the skirt and on the outside of her thigh, but still much more intimate. She turns to kiss me again, gives me another look. "This is getting serious. He's all over me. He wants to have me. It will get out of hand."

I whisper back, "It's still okay with me if it's okay with you. You want to stop? Push away."

While she is kissing me again, he is running his hand over her thigh. "For God's sake, Tommie, he's really feeling me up, he's feeling up your wife, he's going between my legs."

"Yes," is all I answer. She lets him continue. I figure she's okay with it, a little turned on from the wine and the closeness of three bodies and the attention of this stud of a man. And I'm there for reassurance. She knows it won't go too far.

He's at the top of her thigh, pushing skirt up so that the hem shows a lot of leg now. "He's lifting my skirt, trying to get under it. He wants to feel me all the way up to the top, it's going too far."

"No, it's okay, it's just a little touching. Whatever you do, it won't bother me. You know I like it when men look at you and touch you. Open up for him, let him feel, it's just a feel."

"What?"

"Let him feel under your skirt. Let him feel your beautiful legs. If he wants to get between your legs, let him." Jesus, did I say that?

"You want me to let Karl get between my legs?" She digs her nails into my leg, I think as a sign that she is not happy with that answer, but she doesn't stop his progress over her body. He presses his hand into her crotch over the knit skirt, outlining the shape of her belly and the top of her thighs. He pushes the stretchy fabric into the feminine triangle of her legs, a little between her legs. She slouches down in the seat and her skirt rises as her bottom slides out of it. Wonderfully, her legs relax a little and he can push in, reach farther between them. He pushes down, rubs between her thighs. Mmmph, she moans and pushes her hips up to rub her crotch against his hand.

"Oh, oh oh," she squirms, pushes up, opens a little more. His fingers are now pushing hard into her mound, pushing against her lips even through all her clothes. "Oh, god, Tom, he's on my pussy. His hand is on my mound, under my sex, I can feel his fingers pushing on my lips." I wish that I were feeling between her legs instead, but I'm so turned on watching him do it. And watching her let him.

"Go ahead, go ahead." Did I whisper it or just think it?

She leans back against him to give him a better angle, looking toward me. I am looking right up the vee of her legs. She moves her knees further apart, now a foot or more, the vee widens, and the skirt slouches between them. He moves his hand up and down, in and out. It catches her skirt, which slides up easily over the slippery pantyhose. She gives me a look, languid, she's so turned on now, hating it and enjoying it at the same time. His hand moves down her thigh to the hem of her skirt, onto the smoothness of her firm, shiny pantyhose thigh. She looks down at his hand stroking up her thigh and then back up at me. She's not scared anymore. She looks me right in the eyes, like I want this, I'm going to do this. He looks right at me, too, as his hand goes up her leg. I look down at his hand, her leg, that beautiful, open crotch that I love so much, the red panties shaped over her mound.

She relaxes, enjoys it. It's clear now that she is not going to resist his advances, whatever he does. She begins whispering a running commentary to me of how he is feeling her body and how that is making her feel, what he's touching and what she wants him to touch.

"He's going under my skirt, he's going to feel me, feel my pussy. Yes, he's going to put his hands on your wife's sex, on my privates."

"Yes, yes, go ahead, go with it. Open up and enjoy the feeling."

Her legs part more, his hand cups her crotch, pushes into her mound, pushing hard into her to part her lips. She whimpers. Her hips pump up into his hand. "Oh god that feels good. My pussy is so hot."

She pushes up again and again. Stares right at me, defiant and ecstatic at the same time, leans back more, moaning, widens, pushes up to meet his insistent grabbing. She has one arm around him and her other hand on my leg. I can tell whenever she feels something. She telegraphs her pleasure by squeezing and raking me with her sharp nails.

"Oh he's going to go further, he's going into my pants, he's going to reach into your wife's panties, he wants to get *in* me, yes yes." I reach over to cup her breast and kiss her to affirm that I understand. And approve. I see that his hand is up to her waist, to the waistband of her hose, and slides down under the hose. His fingers reach the top of her bikini panties and slide under there, too. And I can see his fingers moving in her crotch, down over the mound, curling down to her lips, pushing between her labia and into that hot, wet cleft.

"Oh, god, he's in my pants, god, he's got his hands on me, on my clit. He's between my lips. Sliding up and down. He's going to put his fingers inside me." I squeeze her breast hard. She puts her hand over his. "Come into me, Karl, yesss," she hisses to him. She lift her hips and with her hand over his pushes his hand hard into her crotch. "Oh, god, honey, he's going to finger your wife with you right here, how dirty is that. He's going to finger fuck me, use my cunt as his toy with my husband right here. Do you care? My husband watching and not doing anything about it. Fucking, fucking. This stranger fucking me."

She uses that word only when she is very turned on. Only when her pussy is hot and wet and wants filling, then it becomes a cunt to her.

I am doing something about it. "I'm watching you and loving you and feeling you. I'm encouraging you. I'm feeling your heat. I'm feeling your lust."

She cries and whimpers and moans and shooting jerking her hips up to get his fingers inside. She takes a sharp breath. "He's inside me! He's in my hole! He slid into my hole. Oh, god, he's finger fucking me, he's fingering your wife. He's inside your wife. Yessss, slide into me, push your big fingers into my pussy. Come into me, Karl, slide into me!" Then to me, "He's in me, he's in your wife's cunt! My cunt is so hot and wet, and you want him to, and you want me to let him into me. Karl's in my cunt, can you see that?"

I squeeze her breasts again and kiss her deeply. "Yes. Yes, I want you to let him."

"Oh, another finger, push in, yes, yes. Come into my pussy, fuck me fuck me, pinch my clit with your thumb. Come into my cunt, Karl, I want you to, now I want you to fuck me in front of my husband." He may not understand her words, but he can feel her heat and her lust. He's inside her wetness.

"Look at that. Look, do you see his hand moving in my panties, in my sex, into my sex. He's drilling into my hole. You wanted me to let him touch me and now he's touching me all over and he's touching me inside and he's pushing inside of me. He's inside me. You understand? Inside! He's inside my cunt." She almost spits the words at me.

I don't care. I've never seen her so hot. I love that. I love seeing her turned on and wanting sex. She's hot now, and totally involved in this, and taunting me with him. "He's got my cunt, he's got your wife's cunt all to himself. And she's loving it! I love it! Drill me! Oh oh oh oh oh," bucking up in time with his hand pushing into her, she cries out, she comes.

I lean in to kiss her when she comes, some of her screaming is into my mouth. But she's coming with him, with someone else, with another man, right in front of me, and I am tasting her panting and coming in my mouth. I inhale her heat. I am as turned on as she is.

She bites my ear, and puts her hand in my crotch over my hardness. "You liked it, didn't you? You liked watching." Defiant. "Your wife just came with another man. With another man's fingers inside her. With another man's body inside her body. Inside my body. Inside the deepest part of my body, my most intimate spot. Inside my cunt." Softer. "You wanted me to let him touch me and I did. I opened my legs for him." Now purring, teasing. "He's still there inside my pussy and he's still fucking his fingers into me. Fucking me with his fingers." She lifts her hips way up, her butt completely off the seat. Pushing onto his fingers more.

"I want to fuck more. More than just fingers. Mmmm. Help me get these pantyhose off."

What was I thinking? Do I want my wife to fuck this man right here in the car? She is hot now and still pumping her pussy onto this guy's hand. I started it. She wants it. A little reluctantly, I reach down to her waist to get under the top of the hose. He sees the movement and understands. Pulls his hand out of her panties and grabs the other side. Together we stretch and pull the pantyhose down. Her panties come down with them. She lifts off the seat and kicks off her shoes to make it easier.

But we are coming close to the airport now. The traffic is more crowded, we're slowing down. Even with the window tint, you'd be visible. "This is too public." I whisper to her that we don't have time for this, it's not the place, too dangerous.

She hesitates. Closes her legs. Takes hold of his hand to stop him. Then she relaxes, lets go and moves her hand to his leg, and to the lump in his crotch. He must be hard as a rock under there.

She unzips him. His cock jumps out into her hand. He wants to get between her legs. But she pushes back on his chest and starts to pump him with her hand. She moves her butt back toward me and leans forward. Takes his cock in her mouth, moves down and up to fuck it. He is thrilled. Leans back, stretches, closes his eyes, rubs her back and neck.

Her skirt is still up around her waist. I take the opportunity to feel her pussy, which is now near me and uncovered. Before I can play with her very long, she pulls back from him. He's about to come, and she doesn't want to take it in her mouth. Thank god for the Kleenex box in this limo. She cleans him up and puts him back in his pants.

The last few minutes of the trip are almost embarrassingly silent. She sits back down facing him with her skirt up and her bare ass on the seat. He keeps one hand between her legs for the rest of the drive. I can see his arm moving rhythmically. He's drilling her again, and she bumps her hips up and down on his hand. Mmmm mmmm is all she says, to me or to him.

She doesn't bother to put her panties or stockings back on, just shoves them into her purse. He kisses her goodbye when we drop him at the airport, with just a feel of her breast again, and that is it. By the time the driver opens the door for him, everything looks back to normal.

I got the deal, by the way, and it was very rewarding for us. I saw him only once again, in Europe, but she didn't make the trip with me. And he didn't offer me his wife, either, which I thought was a little inhospitable of him, considering.

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AnonymousAnonymous9 months ago

I like the pantyhose in the stories, but my wife would not wear panties with them. She (and I) always enjoy the thrill of potential pussy exposure with seamless pantyhose.

AnonymousAnonymousover 1 year ago

Glaring lack of knowledge/sophistication: I loved the narrative - 5 stars. But PLEASE! Pantyhose are hose, but are NOT stockings! Stockings or nylons are a different character, composition, structure and fetish. Don't be so crass as to equate them or use synonymously - they are not!

AnonymousAnonymousover 2 years ago

💯

AnonymousAnonymousover 2 years ago

I loved (❤) this story very much, gave you a

5+ (105%, ☆☆☆☆☆+ "above expectations.")

In my book it is an extra kinky situation when your wife is fucked by a man whose decisions can affect your family's income and lifestyle.

AnonymousAnonymousover 2 years ago

This is an excellent client-fucks-wife story!

Love (❤) it: gave it a 5.0 (★★★★★).

It is very erotic and totally realistic.

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