Two Cocks for Julie

Julie walked into the champagne bar in the dress I had picked out for her—clinging and low cut, drawing immediate attention to her gorgeous chest—and discreetly looked around. We were pretending not to know each other. I was to buy her a drink, seduce her, accompany her back to the hotel room, and fuck her like crazy—as any sane man would love to do to my beautiful, intelligent, sexy wife. Julie loves to tease me, and she would have done a great job of ignoring my ogling had it not been for the presence of David at my side. Let me explain.

I had recently worked up the nerve to tell Julie about my fantasy of having a threesome with her and another guy. Actually, "worked up the nerve" is an overstatement. What had in fact happened was that I had spent a couple of days fantasizing intensely about watching her suck another man's cock. One night she came home from drinks with some of the mother moms from school, a bit tipsy and wanting to have sex. I tried to oblige, but at that moment I was irrationally angry at her because I assumed she would take offense at my fantasy—the fantasy I hadn't yet told her about, and was too ashamed and scared to bring up. As a result, I couldn't get hard, which bothered her immensely; the mere sight of her taking off her shirt is usually enough to make me stiff.

Instead of making up some bullshit about being tired, I just blurted it out. I told her what I wanted, reassured her that there was nothing homoerotic about it, and promised that it was just a fantasy. She had never been very sexually adventurous, and was inclined to be embarrassed by things like dirty talk, using a dildo, bondage, etc. Not that I cared much, but she had also told me explicitly that she would never do anal. We had a good sex life, but nothing out of the ordinary. In short, I had no idea what to expect.

After chiding me for not having talked to her about it sooner, she asked me how fantasizing together would work. I had to admit that I didn't know, but said I would think about it. We went to sleep after that, but I woke at about 3am, too excited by even her tentative approval to drift off again. I wanted this fantasy to be exciting for both of us and good for our marriage. When I had asked her in the past about her fantasies, she always told me they were about settings and scenarios rather than about particular sex acts.

It occurred to me that the best way to fulfill my criteria was for one of us to start telling a story about going out one evening, then switching back and forth until we eventually ended up in bed with our third wheel. When I proposed this to her the next morning, she surprised me by saying that while she thought my plan was a good one, she would prefer to test her own aversion (or lack thereof) to the idea by talking it out while we had sex. I was thrilled by her willingness to "skip ahead," and would have loved to start then and there. But we had a busy day of kids' activities and other obligations ahead of us, so we tabled the idea until that evening.

That night, after the kids were in bed, we had the most amazing sex of our ten-year marriage. I had been afraid that verbalizing the fantasy together would be awkward, but as soon as we had turned off the light and lain down naked in bed, Julie asked me, "Is he here?" I said he was, and we were off to the races.

The things she and "he" did together blew my mind, and I had to keep reminding myself that this was my fantasy, not hers. We each came three times. To give you an idea of the mental barriers that crashed down that night: I had always wanted to cum on Julie's beautiful face, and had bashfully alluded to it on one occasion before we were married. She didn't react at all to my timid suggestion, and I figured then that it was a dead letter. But that night, a half hour into our marathon session, I was fucking her doggy style while "he" lay beneath her, sucking on her tits and slamming her into my cock with his hands on her ass. I told her he was going crazy from feeling her belly slide back and forth over his raging hard-on, and was going to get up now and have her suck his cock.

"You like his hard cock in your mouth while your husband fucks you, baby?" I said.

"Oh god, I love it baby," she cried. "I think he's going to cum soon."

"Don't forget to make eye contact, baby," I said, "he loves your beautiful green eyes, just I like I do."

Like all women, Julie loves compliments about her appearance, and her reaction left nothing to be desired.

"Oh god, he's cumming sweetie," she said.

My heart was thudding from more than the physical exertion now. "Good, baby, I'm so glad you're making him cum. Where's he cumming?"

"He's cumming all over my face and in my mouth, honey. Is it okay if he does that?"

Is it okay if he does that? I exploded inside her, then she turned over and we did it again.

We indulged our fantasy regularly after that night, creating new guys and new scenarios. Given who she was, one of the more surprising things Julie talked about was kissing our imaginary partners. I had always heard that women in couples who consented to threesomes usually drew the line at kissing the other guy, as some symbolic limit to preserve the sanctity of their relationships. But kissing was a very sensual act for Julie, and apparently well within the bounds of fantasy sex with another man.

It was only about two weeks later when Julie said to me, "When we started doing this, you promised it was just a fantasy, right?"

"Right," I said.

She was quiet for a moment, but I knew what was coming. You just can't fantasize the way we had, with the mind-blowing benefits to our sex and emotional life that we had experienced, without wondering if the real thing might be an order of magnitude better. But I didn't say anything. Each step of the way, the more initiative she took, the bigger turn-on it was for me.

"Does that mean," she said after a moment, "that you wouldn't really want to do it?"

"Would you?" I asked, ignoring her question.

She took a deep breath. "I think," she said, "that under the right circumstances, I might possibly be up for it." She was doing a pretty good job of sounding reluctant. "But only if you were into it," she hastened to add. I burst out laughing.

"What?" she said, "Don't laugh at me!"

"I'm sorry, I can't help it," I said. "Have you noticed how fast I cum every time one of your imaginary boyfriends shoots his load on your face? Can you possibly imagine me not wanting to do this for real?"

She laughed giddily, the way both of us had been laughing for the previous two weeks. We kissed like teenagers for the next few minutes, then I said, "Let's keep our eye out from now on. Maybe the right circumstances will present themselves."

The following weekend we had big plans-big for a suburban married couple with kids. Friday night we were going to a surprise birthday party for a friend of ours at a restaurant in the city. Saturday night was our "fantasy date," which we had planned even before our threesome fetish blossomed. We drove to the party with our good friends who live down the block and the drive itself felt like a party. Julie and I had been feeling like honeymooners for the previous few weeks, and we were really looking forward to an evening out together, even one surrounded by other people.

We got to the restaurant and had few drinks while the party room filled up and we waited for the guest of honor to arrive. About half of the invitees were people we knew from our kids' school or from park district activities. The rest were our friend's family and work associates. We all yelled surprise when he and his wife showed up, and then Julie and I drifted away from each other and into those ephemeral little group conversations that blink on and off at parties. After a while I found myself talking to-flirting with, actually-a couple of the moms from my son's class. I looked around for Julie and saw her apparently doing the same with a couple of younger guys I didn't recognize.

"Looks like Julie's getting kind of friendly over there," one of them teased me.

"Hopefully," I said emphatically. I wasn't much of a drinker, and for me, discretion has always been the first casualty of inebriation. The faces they made were those of suburban housewives who were trying to look scandalized, but whose lascivious curiosity had been piqued beyond hope of satisfaction.

"Do you need to go get her?" one of them asked testily as I withheld my attention from her to stare at my wife.

"I don't need to," I said, walking away without taking proper leave. I came up behind Julie and put my hand on her shoulder.

"Honey!" She cried. She gets very chatty and flirtatious when she drinks, and obviously was giving no thought to moderation that evening. "You need to meet David and Eric. They work with Jason (the birthday boy) and are the nicest young men. We've been talking about how they're having trouble meeting nice girls."

Julie seemed legitimately pained by this. David and Eric shook my hand sheepishly. Although the three of us knew they were gawking at my wife's gorgeous face and beautiful chest under the flimsy pretext of getting dating advice from her-we were all men after all-they didn't know that, far from being upset about it, I had come over to observe their gawking more closely.

"Tell them what they need to do to meet a good girl," Julie ordered me. "You're the expert," she quipped immodestly.

"Well, I don't know what to tell you about meeting a good girl," I said cheesily, "but if you want a lady like mine, I'd say stamina is the key."

David and Eric laughed at (and Julie protested) my innuendo. Thereafter followed ten minutes of a 40-year old who doesn't even have a Facebook account giving bullshit advice to two young guys who probably got as much action as they could handle on Tinder, or one of those other apps guys my age curse the fates for failing to invent until after we were married.

Of the two of them, David was definitely Julie's type. He was a couple inches taller than me, handsome, and dark complected-probably with some Latin American blood. Eric peeled off after a few minutes, while David stayed and talked with us. He was a tech guy, early 30s, but also fairly cultured. It turned out that we had all read the same novel recently, which provided another ten minutes of conversational grist. Julie was very animated, and kept touching his arm when making a particularly salient point. Finally, Eric came back to get David, joking with us that there were some "nice young girls" he wanted him to meet. David went with him a bit reluctantly, shaking both Julie's and my hands, and saying he hoped we would meet again sometime. When he had gone, I said to Julie, "Nice guy, don't you think?"

"So nice," she said earnestly. "It's hard to believe he has trouble meeting girls."

"It is indeed," I said, "but I got the impression that nice young girls weren't really his thing. More of a MILF guy if you ask me. And one MILF in particular."

"Oh please," she said shyly, but there was a twinkle in her eye. "You think he was attracted to me?"

"There is no question about it," I assured her. I was about to say, "So do you think you might like to suck David's cock while I fuck you from behind?" But then I got that little impulse again... I wanted this to be on her initiative. I wanted to know how badly she wanted it.

"Are you totally serious?" she asked me, just above a whisper.

"Of course."

She smiled and took a sip of her G&T. She's very fair skinned, so the flush in her neck was immediate and obvious. I scanned the room while looking at Julie out of the corner of my eye. She kept shooting me furtive glances. Finally the waiting became too much for her.

"So..." she said.

"So what?"

She rolled her eyes. "You know."

"Oh," I said, feigning ignorance. "Did you... you want to go talk to him?"

My lack of enthusiasm took her aback. "Well, no. I mean..." If she hadn't drunk so much, she would have retreated then, but the liquor had emboldened her. "I was thinking you would," she said.

"Okay," I said, "be right back."

David and Eric were in fact talking with a group of girls when I approached and asked David if I could have a word.

"We're probably taking off pretty soon," I told him, "but I wanted to tell you how much Julie and I enjoyed talking to you."

"Man," he said enthusiastically, "me too. You guys are great. And you're a very lucky man. I guess there's hope for a single guy like me." We both laughed.

"Well," I said, "you may be a lucky man too. My wife is kind of a hottie, don't you think?"

"Um, sure," he said a bit suspiciously. "Definitely."

"Listen David," I said, "I've never done this before, so I'm just going to cut to the chase. Our fantasy is to have a threesome with another guy. I'm totally straight, so it would just be the two of us on her. Does that interest you at all?"

The look on his face was priceless-I wished Julie could have seen it. "Y..yeah," he stammered. "That interests me. Like, you have no idea how much that interests me."

"Great," I said. I was thrilled. "Have you ever had a threesome before?"

"Once, with two chicks."

"Nice," I said. "How was it?"

"It was cool," he shrugged. "Why wouldn't it be, right?"

"It seems like there's a but."

He laughed. "No, I don't know. It just seemed kind of vanilla, you know? That's every bonehead's fantasy. But a threesome with an awesome married couple? That's... I don't know..."

"Incredibly erotic?" I ventured.

"Exactly," he said.

I laughed. "Yet another thing we have in common."

"So... you're sure you're cool with this?" he asked.

I assured him I was beyond cool with it.

"When would you want to do it? Tonight?" he asked eagerly.

I thought for a moment. "No," I said. "Do you have plans tomorrow night?"

"Nothing I can't cancel."

"Okay. Tomorrow at 9:00pm at Charmed," I said, referring to the snooty champagne bar where Julie and I were meeting for our date. You got a suit?"

I proceeded to explain the scenario to him. He was 100% on board.

Julie's eyes were glued to me as I approached. She looked extremely nervous. "Well?" she asked hopefully.

"Sorry, baby."

She was crushed. "What... why?"

"Oh, I don't know," I said. "You know how some guys are about being naked around another guy."

"But did you tell him you were straight?" she asked, with a hint of accusation.

"Yeah," I said defensively, "I told him. I'm sure he wouldn't mind taking just you for a night on the town, though."

She scoffed. "That's not the fantasy."

I knew exactly what she was thinking: that I had gotten cold feet when it came down to it; that I hadn't "sold it" well enough, or been emphatic enough about my hetero intentions. It was exactly what I wanted from her. It was really hard to hide my excitement at that moment.

"Look, I'm sorry," I said a little coolly. "There will be other opportunities." She gave me her "You're full of shit" look and said, "Joe and Kathy are ready to leave. Shall we go?"

She was sullen in the car on the way home, to the point where Kathy gave me a questioning look in the rear view mirror. I just shrugged my shoulders. We dropped them off and continued home. Julie paid the babysitter while I parked the car. I futzed around in the kitchen for a few minutes before going up to bed. When I got there, she was in bed in her pajamas, reading a book. We always made love after a night out, and the unspoken expectation of it for that night had been heightened even further by the crazy sex we had been having the previous weeks.

I snickered to myself, loving that she was so disappointed with the lack of two dicks that no dicks was preferable to one.

She apologized the next morning in the precious few minutes we had before the kids came barreling into our room. "Sorry about last night," she said sincerely. "I drank way too much. I guess it just made me feel bitchy," she added, rather less sincerely. "I don't want it to ruin the awesome night we have planned." We kissed and made up.

The day crawled by. Julie left around 8 that night to drop off the kids with her sister, then checked into the hotel to get ready to meet me at 9:30. I showered, shaved, and got dressed, then headed to the bar. I got there a little early to find David sitting at a high top, looking spiffy in a grey suit. We shook hands.

"Looks like you've got a hot date," I said, sitting down and ordering a double scotch. David wasted no time.

"So should we talk about, like, do's and don't's" he asked.

"Let's not worry about that," I said. "I'm going to be the conductor tonight, unless Julie decides to step in. I assume you don't mind taking orders from a woman?" I said.

David laughed. "Not that woman," he said.

For the next half hour we talked music and travel, and I was pleased to again find many points of common interest. A big group at the bar left, so David and I moved in to facilitate the choreography Julie and I had discussed.

She walked through the door at 9:30 sharp. Her eyes met mine for a split second-as strangers' might-then moved on, only to stop short and do a double take. Her jaw went slack with surprise. David had been ordering a drink and hadn't seen her come in, so I turned back to him and continued my rant against the post-Hail to the Thief Radiohead albums.

Julie rounded the bar to a spot directly across from us, squeezing in between two large groups and ordering a glass of champagne. When David finally noticed her, he stopped mid-sentence.

"Whoa," was all he could say.

Her hair was up, revealing her beautiful neck. She was wearing a pair of wedges that made her legs look spectacular, and a low-cut purple dress with thin straps. Her boobs looked amazing as always.

We had both left our wedding rings at home, so it was barely a minute before a douchebag attorney from one of the groups next to her began chatting her up. I had told her before that I loved watching her get hit on, and that she should be as provocative as possible for my benefit. She was making an effort, but David's unexpected presence had thrown her for a loop. I waited until she had finished her first glass of champagne and been bought a second one by her would-be suitor before I sent David over. He approached her eagerly, and after deftly shutting out the attorney, came back to our side of the bar with her.

We introduced ourselves. Julie told us she was in town for business, and was meeting a girlfriend who lived here. We chatted inanely about how she liked the city and how crowded the bar was. I noticed her hand shaking when she raised her glass to take a sip.

"I hope your friend is as attractive as you are," I said. "You wouldn't want David and I fighting over you all night."

"God, no," she smiled, "that would be terrible."

I had been a little afraid that a married couple play-acting mutual unacquaintance at a bar would feel contrived or even silly. But just as with our talking out our threesome fantasy aloud, I couldn't have been more wrong. The conversation, drinks, and sexual innuendo flowed easily. After about a half hour, Julie checked her phone.

"Oh no," she said, "Lisa is sick and can't make it."

"That's a shame," David said.

"I know. She would have loved you guys." She paused and looked us both up and down. "Actually, maybe it's better she's not coming. I don't think I could decide which of you to give up to her. It's too sad to have to choose. I guess we'll all have to go without tonight."

"Very disappointing," I said. "So we've come to the end of a very pleasant evening. Can David and I walk you to your hotel?"

"How gentlemanly," Julie said. "I would feel so much safer if you did."

I'm not sure why we settled on 1950's decorum and figures of speech-maybe because it was an "age of innocence" that couldn't have contrasted more sharply with what we were about to do.