tagLoving WivesDutch Treat

Dutch Treat


This story contains details of wife sharing so please don't read it if that bothers you.

* * * * *

Twenty-five years ago my wife and I went for a long weekend in Holland. It was part business, part pleasure. On the Friday I had a meeting with Marc, whose company I'd done business with for several years and with whom I'd become very friendly.

So much so that on the two previous visits when I was on my own I had stayed at Marc's flat, rather than a hotel. So on this occasion Marc insisted that we stayed with him and that seemed preferable to some anonymous hotel.

My wife Kim had never met Marc before and when I introduced them on the Friday morning Kim said she was pleased to finally meet him because she had heard so much about him. She said that with a wry smile because I had told her several stories about Marc.

I think it's fair to say that Marc was a quite a character. He was good looking, extremely charming when he wanted to be and very outgoing without being over the top. That combination meant that he could charm the knickers off a woman faster than any man I had met.

Kim is quite conservative and I was the only man she had slept with, so I think she rather disapproved of Marc's revolving door approach to girlfriends (and in truth I'd only given her a toned down version of his love life). So she started off being quite sceptical about him, but it was noticeable that his charm soon began to work on her and she warmed towards him.

I couldn't blame her - Marc was blessed with a really pleasant, likeable personality. For his part I could guess that he found Kim attractive, and that was understandable because she was in her prime - early twenties, medium height, long brown hair, a beautiful face and a lovely figure with gorgeous 36D tits.

On the Friday afternoon I had a business meeting, then in the evening Marc and his girlfriend Arantxa took us to a Chinese restaurant. Despite her exotic sounding name Arantxa was actually rather plain to look at; slightly buck-toothed and distinctly flat-chested, she came a very definite second to Kim in the looks department.

By the end of the meal I was starting to feel rather sorry for her because she was obviously very taken with Marc, whereas to Marc she was clearly only going to be around until someone more attractive came into view.

Still we had a very pleasant evening - thank heavens for the fact that nearly all Dutch people speak excellent English. We got a taxi back to the flat and then opened some wine.

None of us got drunk and anyway I was aware that I had another business meeting in the morning and then a barbeque in the afternoon which was part business, part pleasure. So we turned in just before midnight and the alcohol meant that Kim and I went straight to sleep.

The following morning I had a short but productive meeting and then it was back to the flat to meet up with the women and head off for the barbeque.

Kim and Arantxa had done a spot of local sightseeing in the morning and were just relaxing with a coffee when we returned. The barbeque didn't start until 4pm so there was plenty of time to chill out before we all had to get showered and changed.

Happily it was a hot and sunny day, so Kim was able to wear the light summery dress she had brought. By her standards it was rather daring because, although it went to just below her knee, it was strapless, with bare shoulders and showed a bit of cleavage. In fact Kim did ask me if I thought it was too much and whether she should wear a skirt and blouse instead.

I assured her it was fine and it certainly was by me; I rather approved of the fact that my slightly unadventurous wife was loosening up a bit. Still I think we were both surprised to find that at the barbeque women were heavily outnumbered and that although there were about thirty people present, only six of them were women.

Fortunately Kim was getting on well with Arantxa, so she didn't feel isolated and too dependent on me (because inevitably there were times when I ended up talking business with the Dutch guys).

I couldn't help but notice that Kim was the best looking woman there and it was obvious that some of the men were taking an interest in her. I saw several men eyeing her up and noticed how frequently men offered to refill her glass.

For her part Kim was conscious of this attention and in truth slightly flustered by it. Several times I caught her surreptitiously tugging at her dress in an effort to minimise the cleavage on show. It was actually quite sweet because she wasn't showing much compared to the amount you see some women putting on display.

To be honest I was slightly preening myself on the fact that I had such an attractive wife and later in the afternoon that feeling intensified. Kim bent over one of the tables to sort out a drink and her dress slipped slightly. This meant that the front gaped open and I had a wonderful view inside it.

More importantly it was clear that the two men in front and to the left of me were able to see as much as I could. The lovely firm rounded shape of her breasts was very obvious and there was no missing her prominent dark aureole and erect nipples.

She straightened up and immediately noticed both men staring at her and realised that they had been treated to a real eyeful of her lovely breasts. She blushed and turned away, not realising that I had witnessed the whole scene.

I was very aware that my prick was fully erect and I had to furtively adjust my trousers so it was less obvious. What came to me with a shock was that I wasn't erect because of the sight of Kim's breasts. I was erect because two men had been staring at my wife's body. I knew they must have been lusting after her, aware of their own erections and (beneath the civilised veneer of the barbeque) full of a primitive desire to spread her legs, force their cocks into her cunt and fuck her until they fired their sperm deep inside her.

The very thought was leading to a copious amount of pre-cum leaking from my cock and with no prospect of relief I plunged into a conversation with one of the Dutch technical staff and a few minutes talking about specifications and European standards did the trick and calmed me down nicely. Still my eyes were on Kim and Arantxa as they circulated and chatted to people.

The barbeque was a great success, not least because of the hot weather, which meant that people didn't start to drift away until well after dark and it was nearly midnight by the time the taxi pulled up outside Marc's flat.

We'd all had plenty to drink, but Marc insisted on a nightcap and in the end it was nearly two in the morning before we headed for the bedrooms. Marc paused in the doorway with his left arm around Arantxa.

"We can swap if you want," he said, talking to me as if the women weren't there. "It would be nice," said Marc laughingly. I was caught off guard and panicked into a reply.

"No, we've all had too much to drink. Let's get some sleep." Marc smiled and shrugged and we headed into our bedrooms.

Kim unzipped her dress, slipped it off and then removed her knickers. As soon as she was naked I pulled her down onto the bed. Alcohol or no alcohol I was desperate to have sex with her. I positioned my prick against her cunt lips and was pleased and a bit surprised to find that she was very wet.

She cried out as I thrust deep inside her, my mind ablaze with incredibly vivid sexual images. A dark corner of a Dutch garden - one man pulls down the front of Kim's dress exposing her tits, he kisses and fondles them, whilst another man pulls her knickers to one side and rams his prick into her wet cunt. A Dutch bedroom - Arantxa gasps and groans as my prick thrusts in and out of her tight cunt, the sound of my wife urging Marc to fill her pussy with sperm carries through the open door.

I wanted to say something to Kim - to tell her why I was so excited, but it was no good. My prick beat me to it, firing burst after burst of cum into her. I clung to her, neither of us saying anything, before finally I rolled off and we both fell asleep.

I woke first in the morning and lay there in the half-light. I could only think of one thing - Kim on her back, her eyes shut tight, her mouth open in a perfect O as another man fucked her. My cock was stiff and I had a burning desire to wake Kim in a way I'd never done before - by pushing my cock into her cunt. That seemed too outrageous and I just couldn't do it. Then after a while I heard sounds and movement and it was obvious that Marc and Arantxa were up and moving about.

I woke Kim and we both got showered and dressed with nothing more than the usual small talk. Over breakfast there was no mention, not even a hint of Marc's suggestion that we swap partners. That didn't surprise me really, but I did wonder if someone might have referred to it.

After a late lunch and a pleasant stroll along the nearby canal it was time to pile our bags into the car and head for the ferry terminal. As we said our goodbyes I kept a careful eye on Marc as he hugged Kim. There was nothing untoward, no hidden touches of her bum or bust; it was all perfectly normal and friendly.

I think it's fair to say that over the next few days I kept thinking about what I'd seen and my response to it. I wanted to say something to Kim, but worried that if I told her about my fantasies she would be deeply offended. Still it did occur to me that I was the one who had said no to the suggestion from Marc. Kim hadn't said anything, so it was certainly possible that she was open to the idea.

When I thought about it I realised that we had been married for five years and I was the only man she had ever slept with. It did seem possible that she was regretting her lack of experience and was wondering what it would be like to sleep with another man. I know if I'd only ever had sex with Kim I would have been wondering what other women's bodies felt like; not really in an adulterous, two-timing way, but just in a curious way.

The following Saturday night we were having sex and having just shared a bottle of wine we were both in a pleasantly relaxed frame of mind. I decided it was the ideal time to raise the subject.

"What did it feel like having those two Dutch guys staring at your breasts?"

"What do you mean?" said Kim, suitably startled.

"I saw them looking down your dress, and I know they liked what they saw."

"It wasn't my fault; I didn't do it on purpose."

"It's alright - I take it as a compliment that other men eye you up, it means I've got an attractive wife. You know Marc finds you attractive don't you?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Well for starters the way he wanted us to swap partners on Saturday night."

Kim looked at me in a genuinely surprised manner, almost as though this was news to her.

"That. He was joking. Why, did you think he was serious?"

"Yes I did."

"Well don't worry there was no way that was happening." Kim looked at me more seriously. "Why, are you interested in swapping?"

"Well...I don't know. Not exactly I suppose, but I guess there is a small part of me which finds the idea appealing."

"Well it's not happening - I'm certainly not interested."

This clearly wasn't taking the route I'd hoped for, so I decided to let the subject drop.

We saw Marc later that year at a trade exhibition in London and ended up as part of a group going to a restaurant in the evening. It was clear that he got on well with Kim, but nothing sexual happened, or indeed seemed likely to happen.

Then there came a major surprise when Marc landed a job in New Zealand. Despite the distance we still kept in touch occasionally. He ended up marrying a New Zealand girl, but they split up after a couple of years.

Fortunately there were no such problems for Kim and I. Of course we had our ups and downs, but basically we were happy. I did still drop the occasional hint about spicing up our sex life and got quite a surprise when one night she said that perhaps if everything fell neatly into place she might consider swapping. I asked her what she would consider the ideal circumstances and she said possibly if we were on holiday and met an attractive couple, then being away from prying eyes and with a few drinks to relax her, she might just be persuaded.

That seemed like a big step forward, but still nothing happened. Sure we went on holidays and the odd weekend away, but there were never any suitable couples. Gradually it dawned on me that it wouldn't just happen, we would have to make it happen.

So I suggested to Kim that we use the Internet to find someone, but she immediately vetoed that saying it didn't appeal to her. I tried to change her mind, but she wasn't open to persuasion, so I left it alone.

Things stayed like that for a while, but then twenty five years after that weekend in Holland I got an email from Marc saying he had business in England in a month's time and he was only twelve miles away from us, so did we fancy meeting up on his last night?

I asked Kim and she said yes and immediately suggested that Marc could stay with us if he wanted. He replied saying thanks, but his firm had already booked the hotel so he might as well stick with that.

It was great meeting up with him after all that time. Of course he'd changed - we all had. His hair now had a fair bit of grey and he needed glasses to read the restaurant menu, but he was still great company. He was lucky; he was one of those people who had a gift for making people feel at ease and relaxed in his company. Certainly Kim responded with a sparkle and enthusiasm that knocked ten years off her age.

Not that she looked her age. Despite the fact that she was forty-nine her natural good looks and regular visits to the gym meant that people often didn't believe that she was in her forties. Part way through the meal she excused herself and went to the toilet. Marc turned to me as she weaved between the tables.

"Kim's amazing, she's hardly changed. We have, but she looks just the same, you're a lucky man."

"I know," I said. "Don't think I don't appreciate her, I do."

"I have to tell you something. You remember that barbeque at Eindhoven." I nodded. "Well I didn't dare tell you, but afterwards Kim was the talk of my department. I think every man at the barbeque fell in love with her."

"In lust with her, you mean," I said, thinking of Kim bent over that table with her tits on display. Marc laughed.

"Alright, in lust with her then." He paused. "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but what the hell it was a long time ago. Two of the guys told me they got a perfect view down the front of her dress and that she had the most gorgeous tits they'd ever seen."

Immediately I had a vision of a quiet corner of a Dutch garden - one man was sucking Kim's tits, whilst the other thrust vigorously between her thighs. My prick was fully erect.

"I know," I said. "I saw them looking."

"You saw them looking. You never said. Weren't you annoyed?"

"Not really. It turned me on."

Marc went to say something, but then saw Kim returning and whatever he was about to say was left unsaid.

Kim sat down and the conversation continued as before. However something had changed. To say there was a tension in the air would be overstating it, because Kim certainly didn't notice anything. However I was aware of something; perhaps there was the subtlest of erotic charges in the air. Whatever it was I was sure that Marc could also sense it.

We stayed longer than expected in the restaurant and Kim suggested that rather than get a taxi back to the hotel, Marc could sleep in our spare room. He was happy to do that because all he had to do tomorrow was pack and head for the airport so he didn't need to make an early start.

It was just after eleven when we left the restaurant and I got in the front of the taxi because the driver wasn't familiar with the area where we lived. That meant that Kim was with Marc in the back. She made a jokey remark about all Marc's past girlfriends and that I shouldn't trust him in the back with her. I just smiled and said that I was sure she was capable of looking after herself. Marc insisted that he wasn't to be trusted with Kim. The temptation might be too great was how he put it.

It wasn't long before we were back at our house and it's quite likely that nothing further would have happened if it hadn't been for the mildly incompetent electrician we'd employed to do some work five months ago. Ever since then we had been plagued with bulbs blowing at random intervals.

That night we stepped into the hallway, I flicked the light switch, there was a brief flash, then the bulb popped and we were stood in darkness. The circuit breaker had kicked in, so I knew I had to go through into the kitchen and flick a switch on the fuse board then we could get the rest of the house lights on.

I took a step in that direction and Kim joked that I shouldn't leave her alone in a darkened house with Marc.

"That's right," said Marc. "I warned you I might be tempted." He looked at me and I could see that he wasn't completely serious, nor was he completely joking. There was an obvious question on my lips. I hesitated, and then took the plunge.

"What might you be tempted to do Marc? Do you want to see what those men saw at the barbeque all those years ago?"

That subtle erotic charge which had been hanging round in the background was suddenly ramped up by a thousand watts. Kim's eyes widened. Marc gave me a probing look as though he was trying to judge the seriousness of my intent. I said nothing, but held his gaze in as cool and as level a manner as I could. The silence was suffocating, though I was painfully aware of my heart pounding away in my chest. Finally Marc broke the silence.

"Yes I would like to see what they saw."

I stepped back towards Kim and undid two buttons on her blouse; a lacy red bra came into view.

"What do you think you're doing?" Kim said, pushing my hands away. But I came straight back and unbuttoned the remaining two buttons on her blouse. I went for the zip on her skirt but Kim pushed my hands away. Again I tried and again she pushed me away. I grabbed both of her wrists and slammed them against the wall above her head.

"Remove her skirt Marc."

Marc pulled the zip down, tugged at her skirt and it fell to the floor. I released her arms.

"Stand still with your arms by your side."

Kim did as she was told. I pushed her blouse off her shoulders and it slid down and joined her skirt on the ground. Her breathing was shallow and fast, her eyes were wide and her lips were parted slightly.

"I want you to show Marc your breasts,"

"Paul," she said, looking at me imploringly.

"Show Marc your breasts."

We stood in silence for what felt like an eternity, then slowly and with trembling hands Kim reached behind her back and released the clasp on her bra. She slipped one strap off a shoulder and then the other. Her bra fell to the floor and her breasts were exposed in all their glory, the erect nipples pointing sharply forward.

"Now take your knickers off."


I stepped forward, grabbed her knickers and ripped. There was a harsh tearing sound and a pair of torn red knickers were thrown to one side. I immediately took hold of one of Kim's hands and led her through into the lounge. No lights were on, but the curtains weren't drawn and yellowy street lighting provided dim illumination to the room.

I backed Kim towards the settee and reluctantly she sat down and allowed herself to be guided into a lying position. As I stepped back she put one hand across her breasts and the other between her legs so that she was modestly covered.

"Take your hands away." Slowly, reluctantly she removed her hands.

"Now spread your legs and ask Marc to fuck you."

"Please no, don't make me do that."

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