Xmas Night Out

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A shy wife is tempted to share her body
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tony090909
tony090909
1,505 Followers

This story contains details of wife sharing so you shouldn't read it if that annoys or offends you.

* * * * * * *

"Well Karen you've got another admirer."

"What do you mean?" I asked warily, replacing my coffee on the table. I was at my local gym having the usual coffee and chat with my friends after one of our regular workouts.

This was a more relaxed conversation than usual because the gym was quiet and there were only three of us – myself, the manageress Denise and my best friend Jayne.

If there had been anyone else present I don't think Denise would have risked teasing me in the way she did. It turned out that the young man who had been in the gym earlier had discretely asked her who the attractive young woman on the cross trainer was. When Denise had told him that the "young" woman was called Karen and she was actually fifty years old it seems he had taken some convincing that was true.

Of course secretly I was flattered, but I played it down and told Jayne that I was old enough to be his mother.

"That's true," she said. "Steve's only twenty two, but he was genuinely impressed with you. Tony had better watch out, you're fast becoming the pin-up girl of the gym."

This was a reference to the fact that Denise and Jayne reckoned that two of the men in our friendship group had the hots for me. I always ignored that suggestion, but secretly I thought it was true.

I knew quite a few people at the gym, but the core of our little group was eight women and three men. All of the men were married and in their fifties. One of them, Carl, had never bothered me. Stuart did seem quite keen on me, but he was a bit of a bruiser and in many ways he wasn't my sort of person. Having said that I have to admit that he had a certain rough charm and could be quite a laugh.

That left Alan who was two years older than me and had aged rather well. Fortunately for him he was one of those men, like Sean Connery, who looked more distinguished as they grew older.

Denise and Jayne certainly teased me about how Alan fancied me and I always denied that was the case. But last week I had got clear evidence that he did. I go to the gym every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning and when we were having coffee after the Wednesday morning session Alan was there and I had mentioned that my husband Tony was working away until late on Friday.

There's nothing unusual in that as he's a surveyor and his work regularly takes him to different parts of the country. I got a text from Alan on Thursday morning asking if I was at home. Rather naively I simply said yes and he immediately replied inviting himself round for a coffee.

Of course I might have been reading too much into it, but I was pretty certain that if I invited him round he would hit on me. So I replied saying I had a bad headache and couldn't see him.

I hadn't dared mention this to Tony, not because I thought he would be angry, but just the opposite - I thought it might get him excited.

We've been married for nearly thirty years and after we'd been married for several years he started asking me about whether I ever regretted the fact that he was the only man I had slept with. I said no it didn't bother me, but he then asked whether I was ever curious about what a different cock would feel like.

I told him the truth - it didn't bother me and I reckoned one cock was pretty similar to another. I was a very surprised by this line of questioning and asked him whether he wanted me to have sex with someone else. He said no and hurriedly changed the subject.

But a week later he was back with similar questions. This time I wouldn't let it go and eventually he admitted that his secret fantasy was to watch while I had sex with another man. I was pretty shocked by that, not least because I thought men were supposed to be very jealous about their wife's fidelity.

Anyway he said that wife watching or wife sharing (as it's apparently called) is quite a common male fantasy. I made it clear it wasn't going to happen and he seemed to accept that.

Nevertheless it became a regular item of pillow talk for us and although I continued to say no to the reality, as a fantasy it became a regular topic for us. It invariably got Tony very hard and I must admit that I normally found the subject very arousing.

So that was the background to my situation. Fortunately Alan had the sense not to pester me, but he did drop one or two subtle hints. From time to time I did also bump into the young man called Steve who had asked Denise about me. At first we said hello, but then it got to the stage where we normally exchanged a few words. He never made a pass at me, but equally he never spoke to any of the other middle-aged women and I did wonder what would happen if I gave him any encouragement.

Again I didn't mention it to my husband; I could do without his overactive imagination racing away and visualising all sorts of erotic scenarios.

Last year we had had a Christmas night out and it had been a great success so we were all in favour of another one. There had been nine people last time and this year eighteen signed up. I was a bit disappointed that more people were coming along. I didn't know some of them too well and would have preferred last years close-knit group.

Unfortunately Jayne had to cry off when another commitment cropped up. She was my best friend at the gym and I would miss her. I mentioned it to Tony and his comment was that maybe this year it really would be a "little black dress" evening.

Last year all the women had agreed we were going to wear a "little black dress" (or something similar). But when the date got near Jayne had chickened out and opted for black trousers. She's older than me (fifty-seven), a bit overweight and quite strait-laced, so I can understand that she didn't feel like dressing up in a sexy way.

I should stress that we're not talking about anything vaguely sluttish, but something that shows you're a woman and know it. I had worn a black dress which didn't quite reach my knees, black tights (pantyhose I think to American readers) and some ankle high black boots.

The date was set for early December and we were going into York and as last year we planned to visit one or two bars before going on to a nightclub. A few days before the event I bumped into Steve and he said he might well see us in York as he was there with friends that night.

I asked Tony what I should wear because I like to get his opinion. One of the dresses I had in mind was a black one with a lovely glittery gold seam. Even though it goes to just below my knee Tony likes it because of the rather clever fastening which means you only have to pop two buttons and the front opens completely.

As soon as I listed it as a possible Tony was urging me to wear it. I told him that he only liked it because it provided easy access to my body.

"That's not true," he protested. "It's a stunning dress and you look wonderful in it. The easy access is a bonus," he added with a sly smile.

I wasn't surprised when he asked me about underwear because that's an area he always takes a keen interest in. I know some of my friend's husbands don't bother, but I like the fact that Tony still finds me attractive enough to take an interest.

I said I had chosen a black bra and pants set and some lace-topped hold-ups. He approved of that because tights have never been a favourite with him.

I got a bath, then painted my toe and finger nails a temptingly deep shade of red. Tony sat on the bed and watched as I finished my preparations.

"You look gorgeous. Do you think you'll have time to text me this year?"

That was a reference to Tony's request last year for me to text him and pretend that something sexy had happened. I had said I might and I planned to send him one or two texts when I popped to the loo. However on the night I always went with Jayne and didn't like to keep her waiting, so never sent any.

He grumbled about that afterwards and was obviously disappointed, so I was expecting another request this year. I told him I'd think about it, but wasn't making any promises.

The minibus we'd booked arrived on time and we were soon headed into York. We hadn't booked a minibus back, because it was inevitable that some people would leave earlier than others, so we planned to use the local taxis.

Our first stop was the same bar as last year. Denise and Stuart both started putting the drinks away at a rate that I had no intention of matching. In all fairness to Denise she is six foot tall and weighs half as much as me again, so she can drink more than I can without being affected.

In contrast Sarah who was chatting to me is thin as a rail and looks anorexic. She is one of the newer members, but we were joined by Marianne one of the regulars. There's a lot I like about Marianne, but there's also a selfish streak to her, so I'm always slightly wary of her.

As you've probably gathered I was missing my best friend Jayne, but with Stuart acting as cheerleader and urging us on to try out another bar I started to get into a party mood.

The fact that Jayne wasn't there also meant that I drank a bit more than usual. Jayne's not teetotal, but she never gets carried away and that did tend to act as a brake on my own activities. By the time we left the second bar I'd had four drinks and some of the others were well ahead of me.

Stuart and Denise wanted to get to a night club and start dancing; those of us who'd been on last year's outing couldn't wait to see it. I should explain that they're both fairly extrovert characters and what their dancing lacks in technique is more than compensated by their complete lack of inhibition.

In particular when Denise gets on the dance floor anyone in the immediate vicinity is in danger of being injured. To be honest it helps to have a couple of people like that and in no time the whole of our group were on the dance floor and having a ball.

After a while I took a breather and sat out talking to Alan and Sarah. She was rather flustered, having made the mistake of dancing with Stuart, who had picked her up and flung her round in something approaching a wild tribute to Dirty Dancing. We'd all had a good laugh, but Sarah looked rather shell-shocked.

I got a surprise when Steve appeared soon afterwards. He came and sat with us and it turned out that he was out with a couple of male friends. I tried to tease him, saying that he was cruising for a pick-up, but he simply said that was exactly right, gave me a knowing look and asked me if I wanted to dance.

I hesitated briefly and then said OK. We headed out onto the crowded dance floor and bumped and jostled our way through one number, but the DJ then segued into a slow number.

Steve didn't ask if I wanted to share a smoochy number with him, he just took me in his arms and we shuffled round together. It felt strange being in the arms of an unfamiliar man. In an odd way it reminded me of teenage disco's and that made me feel young and sexy.

Of course teenage girls soon find that teenage boys have roaming hands and I guess married women should realise that men aren't any different.

Nevertheless I did get a surprise when Steve's hand settled on my rump and safely out of sight of the others in our group he began to caress my backside. In a way it wasn't a big deal and I very much doubt that I was the only woman on the dance floor who was getting touched up at that moment.

The difference in my case was that I had been married for nearly thirty years and it had been over thirty years since anyone other than my husband had touched me. What's more I could feel Steve's heat pressing against my middle. He wasn't doing anything crude like rubbing it against me, but even so it was clear that he was aroused.

I can't deny that the fact that he was excited had an effect on me. I was aware of a flutter of excitement in my stomach and a feeling of moist arousal between my legs. We got to the end of that number and I didn't trust myself to stay on the dance floor, so I asked if we could rejoin the others.

Steve said fine and we headed back, but when we reached our table I excused myself and headed to the loo. Once I'd locked the cubicle door I found my phone and tapped out a text.

I've just been dancing with a young man and he felt my bum. Do you mind? Luv u. xx

I gave something approaching a nervous giggle as I thought of Tony's reaction when he received that text. I could imagine him wondering whether it was fictional and solely designed to turn him on or whether it was true.

When I returned to our table I was surprised to see that Steve and Sarah had gone and Alan was sat alone. I asked him where they were.

"Sarah is getting her things; a couple of the others are leaving and she's going with them. Steve has rejoined his mates; you can see why," he said nodding his head in the appropriate direction.

I looked and soon picked out Steve and his two mates, but now they were chatting with three young girls. A few minutes ago I'd felt young and sexy, suddenly I felt my real age again.

I almost blushed when I realised how stupid I must look. The middle-aged woman flirting with a young man, only to be discarded when someone younger turned up.

At least I had the sense not to dwell on it. It was a fun night out, I'd had a few drinks and got a bit carried away, but nothing had really happened. I wasn't going to let it spoil my evening, so I asked Alan if he wanted to dance and we headed for the dance floor.

We did dance for several numbers, including a couple of slower ones and Alan didn't try to touch me up. For the most part that was a relief, but if I'm honest a small part of me was disappointed.

Even so it did feel odd dancing with Alan. He's over six foot tall and not fat, but certainly bulky, so he's rather different from my husband's wiry physique.

When we came off the dance floor it seemed that various members of our group had already left. Marianne and a man I didn't recognise were talking to Denise and Stuart. We joined them and I said I was thinking of leaving. Somewhat to my surprise the others said they might as well go and in a fairly short space of time the six of us were out on the street.

We hadn't gone far when Denise pointed to a kebab joint and said she was starving. The others seemed keen, but it was the last thing I wanted. Alan noticed my reluctance and said he wasn't too fussed about having a kebab and he'd share a taxi back with me. That was fine with me, but I did wonder if Alan was simply being polite and helpful, or whether he thought he might get lucky.

Anyway we left the others to head into the kebab bar and join the random characters which these places attract in the early hours of the morning. I couldn't think of anything I fancied less than a big, greasy kebab and I said as much to Alan.

It was quite cold and we set off at a brisk pace in the direction of the taxi rank. We hadn't gone far when a car slowed to a crawl alongside us. The darkened windows and booming sound system were entirely in keeping with the shaven haired youth who leaned out of the front passenger window.

"The night's young, we've got room on the back seat, why don't you leave granddad behind and join us," he shouted

I could feel Alan tense up with anger, but the last thing I wanted was a city centre brawl in the early hours of the morning. I put a restraining hand on Alan's arm and told him to ignore them.

They crawled alongside us continually making remarks and I was worried that Alan would respond and then it would all kick off. An alley led off to the right so I guided Alan down it. It was only short and soon led out onto another main street.

My heart sank when I saw the same car turn the corner. They spotted us almost immediately and crawled alongside us again. Now I could see that there were three lads inside and it was clear they were enjoying baiting us. They really were obnoxious and the remarks became very crude. We tried to ignore them, but Alan snapped when one of them called me a slag and demanded that I tell him whether I would like to suck his cock.

Alan told them to piss off and leave us alone, which was quite mild in the circumstances. The guy in the front seat scrambled to get out of the car, but got slightly tangled up in the seat belt.

Alan took a couple of quick paces and kicked the door shut. I stood agape as the door frame hit the lad in the face and he fell back into the car.

"Come on," said Alan, grabbing my arm and bustling me back towards that alley. We ran along it as fast as my high heels would allow. We kept glancing back and as we reached the corner the three youths came running along the alley behind us.

I slipped my shoes off and Alan and I set off running. You might expect a barefoot, middle-aged woman to be quite slow, but I actually used to go round barefoot a lot when I was younger, add on all the sessions at the gym and I can manage a reasonable pace.

Even so it seemed inevitable that our pursuers would overtake us. It was really just a case of whether we could get to the taxi rank before them. At least there should be people there, whereas this street was empty and there was no sign of the police car I was praying for.

We turned the final corner and the taxi rank was reasonably busy. There was a queue of over a dozen people and as we ran up one taxi pulled away and the next in line took its place.

There was a startled reaction as we ran up shouting emergency, babbled our apologies to the couple whose taxi we were hijacking and dived past them and onto the back seat.

"There's three drunken lads chasing us, so just get going."

The driver was a short, middle-aged Asian and he just stared at us. I could see the lads approaching and Alan shouted at the driver to go.

"Go where?" was the idiotic reply.

"Just go!" Alan yelled and we pulled away with a few yards to spare. Even then we would have been in trouble if the traffic lights twenty yards up the road had been on red, but fortunately they turned to green and we were straight through them.

Alan and I looked out of the back window and could clearly see our would-be assailants, their faces ugly with rage as they shouted abuse after us.

We kept checking for signs of a pursuing car, but it never came and with several twists and turns behind us it was clear we were safe. I finally started to relax though my heart was still pounding away and there was an odd, almost metallic taste in my mouth. I felt incredibly alert, exhilarated almost, finally understanding what an adrenalin rush meant.

"I'm sorry," said Alan. "I should have got us away without provoking them."

"I doubt that was possible; they seemed intent on trouble. Never mind, if nothing else it means we'll always remember tonight."

I suddenly realised that the soles of my hold-ups were ripped to shreds, so I pulled one off and then stretched to remove the other. When I did that the front of my dress parted and exposed not just my thighs, but also the very top of my legs.

I realised that Alan was staring and he had good reason to. The light in the taxi wasn't great, but he still had a clear view of my skimpy black panties. The front was semi-transparent and he might even have been able to make out my lush pubic hairs (I am quite furry down there).

Looking back at that moment I have wondered if I deliberately exposed myself in order to seduce Alan. I don't think I did it on purpose, but perhaps sub-consciously I was aware of the connection we had made.

My eyes held his for what felt like an age. Then he moved in and kissed me. It was deep, passionate and full of longing. We broke for air and stared solemnly at each other. Then kissed again. Finally we broke again.

"I want you," Alan said. A simple statement of fact. Every possible emotion seemed to be surging through me and I knew what was required.

tony090909
tony090909
1,505 Followers