Sharing Sherry with Friends Pt. 01

This is a story of partner swapping where a husband and wife choose to embark on an open marriage lifestyle without any coercion by either party. I hope that you'll find it entertaining with not only descriptions of hot and heavy sex and sexual innuendo for fans who appreciate this genre, but a lot of dialogue pieces to explain their choice to go down this path.

Shock, horror! I have to include that dreaded word, cuckold (albeit willing ones) and that will irritate and annoy the faux moralists - a by-product of the social media phenomena - who seem to got lost wandering into Literotica. But you are hereby warned. If the described subject matter is likely to offend you, don't bother reading any further.

For those that read the stories on Literotica for what they are, and knowing what to expect, I hope you enjoy this story in four parts, each posted a week apart.

*****

Chapter One

I know precisely when it was that I first experienced this fantasy to watch my wife having sex with another man. It was way, way back just after we'd met, 13 years ago, it was only our fifth date, long before we decided to get married. I recall those early days like it was yesterday. Sherry and I had been introduced by mutual friends who were work colleagues of each of us. We hit it off immediately like we were made to be together.

After our respective good friends had set us up on a blind date - out with them as a foursome for dinner - we ended that first night on the street out in front of the restaurant going through that familiar ritual ... 'So will you call me?' "Yes I sure will." 'You don't have to, only if you want to.' "Of course I want to, I've had a great time tonight, I will call."

I really did have a good time on that first date, but of course having another couple along too sure helped, the conversation flowed easily and Sherry came across as a really good communicator. She seemed to know a little about most subjects and while ours was quite a platonic gathering that night, I observed enough of Sherry to form a judgement that there was a certain magnetic sex appeal about this beautiful 26-year-old redhead who had just suddenly appeared in my life at the right moment.

The outfit she chose to wear for our first date that night was seemingly demure, grey slacks and a white blouse, buttoned in front ... probably trying to make a good impression. But there was something I didn't notice when she entered the restaurant and was directed to our table ... I was so taken by her beauty that my eyes never checked out her figure at that stage. It wasn't until she excused herself to go to the Ladies Room about two hours into the night, turning to walk away from the table, I got to check out her arse. Her slacks were figure-hugging around her hips and as Sherry walked away, I couldn't take my eyes off one of the greatest bums I had ever seen.

"Do you think when you're all done ogling that your tongue will fit back in your mouth, Mike?" The rebuke came from the other woman at the table, Jenny - my buddy Graham's wife - admonishing me for appearing to ogle her best friend's arse.

"What ... what's wrong?" I stammered, then quickly realised why Jenny was pissed at me. "Oh you mean me checking out Sherry's fine arse, was I too blatant Jenny?"

"Blatant Mike, for God's sake, I thought your eyes were going to bug out of your head ... or that you'd embarrass us all by following her to the toilet to get to see more of her arse."

"Well, that's the first time I've seen her from behind. Guys, that's an arse to die for, what a package."

"Funny Mike, I've never noticed her arse."

"Jenny, I know it's different, you're a woman!"

"Oh, you've noticed!"

"Now now, mind the sarcasm."

"Easy boy, keep it in your pants."

"I'm ok, I've been on my best behaviour tonight, I like her."

"That's a good thing Mike," continued Jenny.

"Go easy on Mike honey, he has been good, no curse words, no dirty stories, I think he's really trying to make a good impression on Sherry. And honey, I don't blame him, your friend does have a killer arse."

"Oh really, you too! We might discuss that observation when we get home, you can tell me what makes Sherry's arse so much better than mine, and then you can go to sleep in the study."

Jenny was being a bitch ... boy, I was so tempted to tell her why Sherry's shapely arse left her slack one in the shade. Having taken down her husband, Jenny switched her diatribe back to me, "So at the end of the night when Sherry asks me how I think the date with you went, I can say to her 'well first up, he thinks your arse is to die for.'"

Graham intervened, "Oh come on Jenny, cut Mike some slack, you have just jumped on one observation he's made. I've been watching them both all night, I think they've hit it off really well. They seem to have a lot in common and look to genuinely like each other."

"Yes, very observant Graham, that is very true, I like her a lot. Thanks for bringing us together, you guys."

In spite of my buddy trying to steer our table conversation back to a pleasant atmosphere before Sherry returned, Jenny had to have the last word, "Just so long as you're not looking at my friend purely for sex Mike, she's too good for that."

I wasn't going to let her get away with that dig, "Boy, did you just get your period Jenny?" I should have had more self-control, but I figured she had it coming.

"That's so typical of you Mike, I might have known you'd come up with something crass like that ... you and your chauvinistic generalisations. I don't know why we are bothering to try to make your life happier."

Graham leaned across the table toward me and said softly, "You picked it in one Mike, she got it this morning! You're very observant!."

"Oh go on Graham, tell the fuckin' world, why don't you? How about the chef, do you want to go out to the kitchen and tell him too? Be careful what you feed her cause Jenny's got her period."

We two guys were still enjoying a chuckle at Jenny's expense while she sat there scowling at both of us when Sherry returned from the Ladies Room, "What am I missing here?"

I hesitated, my eyes darting to Jenny, was she going to give me up, relate our whole conversation back to Sherry and make me look like a real dickhead? With relief, Jenny actually broke into a smile and told her friend, "Nothing Sherry, these two idiots were just having a bit of fun at my expense."

Graham quickly distracted the three of us, "By the way, I noticed before, that guy that reads the News on TV, you know, err Jeremy Carter, he's sitting a couple of tables away over there."

Sherry was still standing, yet to resume her seat. She spun fully around to look in the direction that Graham was pointing and a pair of young horny male eyes - ours - honed in on Sherry's near perfect arse tightly contained within her grey slacks, no visible pantie-line, prompting me to assume that she might be a thong girl.

Jenny didn't turn her head to look for the TV celebrity, she was onto us and just glared at her husband and I as we jointly ogled Sherry's tight arse in the grey slacks while she had her back turned our way.

"Oh yes, I see him," said Sherry as she turned back around and the gorgeous redhead sat back down at our table. The rest of the evening went very well. About 11, we all decided to call it a night since tomorrow was a work day for all of of us. As we made our way to the door, I leaned over to Jenny and whispered in her ear, "You've done a great bit of matchmaking, I think she's a knockout."

Still with a serious tone, Jenny turned to me, "Treat her well Mike, she deserves the best. She's just come out of a relationship that could leave some scars."

I knew that Jenny would tell Sherry of my late night favourable wrap, yet still I chose to hold off for 48 hours before calling Sherry to arrange a second date. You just can't come across as too eager, you know. I told her of a garden party I had been invited to on the Saturday of the next weekend. It was out-of-town, would necessitate a drive of about 90 minutes each way.

Sherry said she'd love to go, asked me what she should wear. I told her it was sort of dress-up, I suggested a summery dress might be in order. While that was an expectation for guests, it was also my personal preference, a chance to check out her legs. I expected that if a young woman has a perfect arse like she does, then she'd have great legs to go with it.

Was that being too sexist? I'm sure it was, but I didn't care.

On the first date, the conversation had flowed all night long but we had the advantage of another couple who knew each of us well and were able to maintain topics that they knew would be familiar to us. So, the long 90-minute drive out into the country on the following Saturday morning was our first test alone to communicate one-on-one without too many awkward silences.

Sherry said she would meet me outside her apartment building, on the street, said it would be easier because it was so hard to park near her building. I drove up and there she was at the kerb, she looked fabulous, letting her striking red hair down and flowing to neck length and she wore a summery dress, just like I suggested, floral patterns and pastel colours that complimented her hair. She looked a million bucks, the dress came to about two inches above the knees. When she sat alongside me in the car, the loose flowing dress rode up a little showing a couple more inches of tanned thighs. Whenever I thought she was looking straight ahead or out of her window, I sneaked a peek at what I could see of her smooth shapely legs. I liked that she left the positioning of her dress as it fell when she sat down and didn't keep pulling it down toward her knees the way some women do when riding in a car with a man.

My date fitted right in, we mingled and all of my friends that we talked to seemed to like her very much. A couple of times, I stood back and watched the reaction of some of the men there. They seemed enchanted by the beautiful woman I had brought along.

We took our leave of the garden party around five, explaining to the others that we still had the long drive back to town. Several of the others asked why we weren't staying over. It seemed more than half the guests there had booked into a couple of the local lodges and were planning to enjoy a big group dinner together.

As we walked back hand-in-hand to my car, Sherry said, "You should have told me if you'd wanted to stay. I didn't have anything special on this weekend, we could have stayed over."

"Really, I never expected so many people I know would do that, the invitation didn't say. Anyway, it might have been a bit awkward, what would you have thought of me asking you on our second date and then suggesting we stay over for the night. You might have wondered who you had been matched up with."

"Oh Mike, don't get me wrong, I wasn't suggesting that if we'd stayed we would sleep together. I thought they might have had a two-bedroom suite that we could have shared and you wouldn't have had to make the long drive both ways on the one day."

We reached the car and I opened the passenger door and stood back holding it. She gave me a beautiful smile and her eyes remained on mine as she placed one foot inside the car. Was she was watching me that closely to see if I intended to steal a sneak peep up under her dress as her legs parted to get into the car ... always a difficult manoeuvre for a woman wearing a loose free-flowing dress?

She looked away just as her wonderful arse dropped onto the car seat, allowing me the chance to check her legs out. Did she let her summery dress drop back along her thighs as her second leg lifted into the car on purpose? For a moment, her bare legs were apart exposing the smooth skin on her inner thighs, nearly all the way to the top. My cock jerked in my pants at the glorious sight that all male readers will understand. I hadn't seen any part of her legs that I wouldn't see if she had been wearing a bathing costume, but getting to see so much of her inner thighs normally concealed by the dress was highly arousing.

I closed the car door and walked around to the driver's door, opened it and slid in. Before slotting the key into the ignition, I turned to look at the beautiful young redhead seated alongside me. I nearly had to pinch myself to realise she was my date ... this was really happening.

She smiled warmly, "I've had a wonderful afternoon, thank you for inviting me, such a nice group of people and they were so warm to somebody new like me. They made me feel right at home."

"Thank you for coming with me Sherry, you've made my day. I felt special having such a beautiful woman by my side. When I got the invitation a few weeks ago, it said to bring a friend, but I was between relationships and the outlook was, to say the least, bleak at that time. Then Graham and Jenny had that brainwave to get us together and here we are. I think I owe them a big thank you."

"Yes, me too! Mike, I know it's only our second date and I don't want to appear to be too eager, but I do want to tell you that I feel so very comfortable with you. I think more so than any other man in the past that I had only just met."

It seems such a long time that we both sat there, just gazing into each other's eyes, nothing further said between us. Then ever so slowly, I began to move my head toward her, bridging the gap between us in the car, each watching the other's mouth. Just before our lips touched for the very first time, I saw her tongue dart out and lick her lips, moistening them and they parted slightly, so seductively in anticipation of our imminent first kiss.

The meeting of our lips was moist and hot and became quite passionate quickly, our lips grinding together, mouths open, my tongue venturing forward to meet hers, taking turns to play within each other's mouths.

One of my arms folded around her shoulder, and as the kiss became even more intense, she brought a hand up to the back of my neck and gently held my head in place ... not that I had any inclination to be first to break.

By the time that we broke off the kiss to come up for air - minutes must have elapsed - the sounds of heavy breathing filled the car, air-tight with the windows still closed. I pulled my head back just far enough to see her whole face, to gaze into her eyes, thrilled to see the passion that I saw there. "Wow!" was all I could say. It might have only been one kiss but I felt some discomfort in my underwear where more than half an erection had sprung up unexpectedly, my cock pointing neither up or down, but jammed into the creases. I needed to adjust it without appearing overtly sexual by dropping a hand into my lap to adjust my package. I was trying so hard to come across as a respectable decent man, even holding back on my tendency to cuss which I frequently did. Graham and Jenny had tipped me off that Sherry hated coarse language.

Sherry smiled, her whole face lit up when she did, "I second that emotion, double wow! I had no idea we were bottling that up until I felt your lips on mine."

Her warm soft hand still draped itself on the back of my neck. I turned my body back facing the front and pushed the button to lower one window. It was getting hot and humid inside the car and the windows were fogged. "I suppose we better head out, would be nice to get back to town before dark."

Her hand fell off the back of my neck and she brought it down to her lap, assisting her other hand to straighten out her dress that didn't appear to need it. I mean, it wasn't like I'd thrust my hand up under there. I looked down wistfully thinking maybe I should have, such was the degree of heat and passion in our first kiss.

I made as if to start the car engine but with my hand on the ignition key, I turned back to Sherry, "That was nice, can we do it one more time, then I promise I'll take you back to town."

She smiled that warm smile, "I was hoping you would, I liked it too."

I half turned my body toward her again and our faces came together once more, our lips meeting in much quicker time, but with no less a degree of heat and passion. Lips immediately parted, grinding, tongues intertwining, heavy breathing mounting, my hand roaming this time, a light caress on the outside of her breast over her dress and bra, partially cupping that one. Sherry whimpered through our lip-lock, that warm soft hand returned to the back of my neck, felt her other hand rubbing my side through the shirt, above my waist. Was I imagining that this hand wanted to roam somewhere on my body but couldn't determine if it should. She brought it around to my chest, let her fingers touch my nipple through the shirt like she was teasing it.

My hand was undecided too, I stroked and caressed her most accessible breast but it was still heavily clothed. I dropped that hand lower, down her side, down to her knees, touching one bare knee, sliding that hand upward, feeling it slip easily underneath the loosely flowing garment. I was touching bare skin with my hand, I was on the outside of her thigh, it felt so smooth to the touch. I brought those fingers around, over the top and onto the inner slope of that thigh, even smoother there, about halfway between her knee and her crotch.

No reaction, just the intensity of our grinding lips and intertwining tongues in our deeply passionate second kiss. She brought her hand - the one that had been on my chest - down to my waist. For a moment, I thought she was about to unbuckle my belt right there in the car, parked on the long driveway of the house where we had attended the garden party.

I attempted a subtle and slight up-thrust of my hips in a desperate attempt to encourage that hand to venture below my waist. Did she feel that subtle move? Meanwhile, my fingers gently caressed the insides of both thighs, slowly inching upward with each stroke, all the while hopeful that she might not notice my fingers were progressing higher and higher.

But women do ... notice that sort of move I mean. Let's face it, they weren't born yesterday. Realistically they are acutely aware of every move the man makes, often before he even makes it. At that intensely passionate moment, I thought how much simpler things would be if a woman could candidly speak up at such a time, tell the man exactly what she wanted, like, 'Could you please put two fingers into my vagina and touch my g spot, I'd like that more than anything else right now?'

But instead we go through this unspoken ritual ... will she, should I, what if he touches me on that intimate spot? What should my reaction be? Have we been out enough for me to let him do that? And all the while, the man is wondering if she is expecting him to do that, will she think I'm a nerd if I don't make a move?

I ached to have that free hand of hers that rested at my waist drop down only a couple of inches and grasp a hold of my genital package, scrunched up as it was inside the folds of my underwear between my crotch and my navel.

My fingers were inching closer and closer to the tops of her thighs ... maybe she is not going to stop me? I think I'm a bold lover but this was only our second date and even if nice women want it as much as the guys do, they'll most often have a pre-set minimum number of dates before they'll let the guy get anywhere near the prize. I couldn't believe Sherry would think any differently.

As my fingers inched ever upward, I guessed that any moment the pad of my lead finger would touch material, would feel the crotch of Sherry's panties. I assumed from the feverish kissing that I would find them wet. I wondered if she would be wearing a thong again as I assumed she had done under the slacks on our first date, e.g. no VPL (visible pantie line).