Me, My Slutwife & Brian


The bad news came immediately: Brian wasn't from the area. He drove up from the Shore, about four or five hours away -- more, with traffic -- to bring his family up for the week. They were staying here, at Mary and Mitchell's house, I guess Brian and Mitchell had been college buddies or something. The important point was that their trip was at its end. They were leaving the very next afternoon, because Brian's oldest son, a soon-to-be seventh grader, was starting football camp on Monday.

I sensed my wife's instant reaction. She had been leaning against me, her little hand on the small of my back, creating the false impression that she was a doting little wife who never left her husband's side and thus wasn't a threat to any woman's man at the party. As she heard Brian describe himself, Kitty leaned againt me more, holding me more closely, as if I was holding her up from falling over. She was disappointed at the truth.

Still, it didn't stop her from flirting with him. With his rotund wife not within earshot, Kitty began her well-versed flirtations. She knew how to make a man talk about himself, and also to disarm him with wit. It was a classic performance from my shy but very horny wife.

***[Quickly I thought back to almost a couple of years ago. My first big public event with her, after she moved out to be with me, was a downtown convention of the industry. My company send representatives but almost never me, however, I was sent to this large dinner at a restaurant with executives from several of our clients. I proudly brought Kitty with me, dressed in a slick black evening dress. At our table was the HR veep of a client, a statuesque blonde in her 40s, who was engaged to a very tall and fit black man in his late 30s. As the evening wore on, I saw Kitty putting the press on him. At first it was just talk across the table; then, as people mingled after eating, Kitty and the guy remained at the table side by side, talking, laughing. Kitty's hand was on his knee, briefly, or touching his arm while she giggled at his wit. Later, after he danced with his fiance, he returned to the table and resumed his conversation with Kitty.]***

***[She spent probably over an hour talking to him, joking around, until at the end of the evening she slipped him my business card -- with her cellphone number written on it, plus her name and a smiley face. The blonde later got transferred to another city, taking her fiance with him, but over the next four months, Kitty got herself deeply rutted by his big black dick probably about a dozen times, sometimes with me present, watching and admiring.]***

As she and Brian exchanged small-talk about their daily lives and compared notes about my region of the country (Kitty was an outsider here two years ago), Kitty cracked jokes and made sure to keep a smile on Brian's face. She has a great wit. Brian, too, was very animated and playful, laughing at her jokes and adding more of his own. Nothing sexual whatsoever, as I stood there, just extremely friendly and jovial. I smiled to myself, noticing Kitty moving ever so slightly away from my side to his. It allowed her to reach out, from time to time, to touch his arm or shoulder, in a very polite but amicable way.

I was immediately the third wheel. I stood nearby them a little while, not really talking, just admiring the look on Kitty's face as she worked over her new friend. My wife was so sexy and gorgeous, smiling with her lips and eyes up at the handsome face of the stud. She was not ignoring me, but she was really entertaining herself with the ability to occupy this sexy man's attention. I do love seeing her having a good time, but she didn't need me here at the moment. I stepped away, meeting some of my other neighbors, turning my back to my wife and the out-of-state visitor.

Looking back maybe fifteen minutes later, Kitty was still standing hip to hip with him, the two of them having migrated near the cooler with beverages, chatting with a couple of other wives. She was really tiny compared to him; he stood about 14 or 15 inches taller than her, and given his muscles he had to weigh more than twice her weight. Her bronze hand reached out to touch him repeatedly -- in a friendly way, but to continually build the rapport between them, touching his arm and elbow, or his hip, his hand, even once to reach up and flick his chin and nose with a playful attack on something he said. She was laughing and smiling constantly, as was he.

It might not have been the reason we came to this neighborhood party, but Kitty sure was enjoying herself.

* * * *

"It's really fuckin' cold," Brian spat to Kitty as he pulled the can of soda from the cooler, his hand drenched in ice water. Suddenly realizing his vulgarity might not be welcome in front of a petite married Asian woman, he immediately apologized. "Oops, sorry about my French."

If you haven't heard my wife fuck before, you'd have never guessed how foul her own mouth was. "Shit, don't apologize," she laughed to relax her new friend, taking the soda can from him, "you're right -- it's REALLY fuckin' cold."

Brian was telling her about the big porch he's trying to add to their house, which was something like the patio deck they were standing near. Kitty listened attentively to the tale of how difficult it was to cut the lumber to the proper angles -- apparently, Brian's taste for something creative had required a lot more work than he originally anticipated. As he finished the tale, Kitty just shrugged. "So, what, you can come to our house and build me one too, right?"

"That's right," he laughed, mocking himself, "no problem, done tomorrow." Then he sort of nodded in my direction, across the backyard lawn from her. "I'm sure your husband can help me, it'll go twice as fast."

Kitty shrugged, not meaning to criticize but giving him a slightly honest answer. "What, David? He's not bad around the house -- when he's home, but he works a lot."

"Aw, fuck!" Brian had grabbed his own soda can, but his effort to pop the top had failed. A defect in the tab made it break off as he tried to raise it, leaving the can sealed shut with no easy way to open it. He showed t Kitty the little metal tab that had ripped off, muttering, "Must be American made." Looking around he didn't see any tools or silverware to help him open the can, so he pressed the can's bottom against his muscular thigh, and simultaneously pressed his powerful thumb on the still-sealed opening on the top. With a wince he giggled to Kitty, "This'll either work or hurt like hell," and he began pressuring the sealed opening inwards.

Pop. A few seconds later, the pressure of his strong thumb opened the can. With mock pride in his handiwork he showed off the opened can to my wife. "The thumb is the world's greatest tool. See, all you have to do is know the secret to working it, and it'll open every time."

Kitty chuckled at gave him a playful wink. "Oh, really -- is that what you say about your wife?"

Brian's eyes opened, surprised at the sexual innuendo. But seeing Kitty's big brown eyes staring up at him without apology, he roared in approval. "Exactly, it works with her every time!"

Their eyes caught, as they each sipped their soda cans. The real teasing would now begin.

Amid the meaningless fluff about suburban life, their jokes became more and more sexual. Brian was comparing the value of Mary and Mitchell's house to their own, given the different locations, would someone want to pay for conveniences of a suburban neighborhood or a close-by but remote ocean beach? Kitty remarked, "I suppose it just depends on what you value more -- me, as long as there's lots of sex involved, I'm all for it." To which Brian joked back with an unintentional pun, "Well then you'd probably pay a million bucks for my pickup truck, there's always plenty of THAT in the back bed." Kitty grinned and purred, "Hmm, maybe I love any truck that has a BED in it," and for emphasis she ran her pink tongue over her upper lip.

Acknowledging her comment with a playful "Ooo!" moan, Brian needled her in an effort to continue the sexual banter. "So, how's that work, if I came over to help build your patio -- if I drive up in a pickup truck with a HUGE bed in the back, you would be thinking I was there for something other than building that patio?"

My wife smiled, realizing that this very sexy man was also extremely playful. "Oh, I'd be totally ignorant of what's going on in your head."

"Oh, no," chastised the married man with a bump of his elbow against her, "you're not."

"Shhh!" Kitty put a finger to her lips and looked around, like he needed to keep it secret. "I can pretend!"

He seemed to be enjoying the innuendo with this extremely attractive, petite married woman ten years his junior. "Well I guess you didn't get the memo then."

Kitty mockingly acted all superior for a moment. "Sorry, no one told me, and if it was in my inbox, I must've thrown it away."

"Sheesh," the taller male snickered, shaking his head in disdain, "damn woman." He had moved closer to her, almost hip to hip as they talked, together in the midst of everyone at the party but totally apart from everyone. Slightly changing the conversation to something less provocative but meant to inquire more about her, he asked, "So you don't have to work, huh -- do you feel the need to get a job just to get out of the house, or, what right now you're just happy to sleep in every day?"

Kitty thought it over, then turned her smiling eyes up at him and taking a sip of her soda before answering. "Oh, who says I'm sleeping every day, with all that sex going on?"

Brian's eyebrow arched, intrigued. "And I thought you said your husband has long hours and isn't home much every day."

My slutty wife snickered, shrugging and mockingly blushing. "That's right, I did, didn't I -- but then again, I don't need him to have sex anytime I want, do I?" But stepping back from an admission of the naked truth, she made light of her comment. "Like you said -- the thumb is the greatest tool!"

Everyone in the crowd heard Brian's cackle of laughter. Just no one had any idea what amused him so much.

* * * *

"Hi, I'm Patty, we're in town just for the week." The middle-aged blonde with a big smile shook my hand like a man might -- like her husband might -- with a firm grip. Beside her very curvy hips stood her youngest, a six-year-old girl, whose face was smeared with a sticky strawberry-jelly mess from some recent treat. "My husband Brian is somewhere around here -- working the crowd, as usual." Suddenly his cackle sounded above everyone's conversation, making her wince and point to the sky. "See, there he is."

So this was the man's wife. She'd let herself go, after having four kids. Her face was friendly, her clothing was not shabby (Lands' End, if I guess correctly), but as curvy as her C- or D-cup breasts were, her hips and ass were even more curvy. It wasn't difficult to imagine that Brian might appreciate attention from a slightly more attractive female. He was, in that respect, a pretty typical married guy whom Kitty loved to date. Just too bad they lived five hours away.

I told her that I'd met Brian, and knew they were up from the shore, and so forth. His wife proceeded to talk my ear off for a bit about how they like the neighborhood and schools up by us, but his job was too good to leave, they liked the kids' friends, whatever. At some point she even worked into her explanation something about a good grocery store, I'm not sure, I wasn't totally listening. I didn't like her much and was tuning her out.

The bitch figured out I wasn't interested. "So," she asked me, finally not talking about herself, "you married, here with your wife?"

Nodding, I scanned the backyard. The first thing I saw was Mr. Orange Shirt himself, chatting with a couple of other dads in the crowd, but my wife was not at his side. Instead she was chatting with Mary, the owner of the house, a few feet away. Pointing her out I said to Brian's wife, "That's Kitty, she and I moved here about, oh, a year ago, just before we got married." Lowering my voice so it wouldn't be too public, I felt a rush of honest overtake me. "We're on each other's second marriages, although, I think she downgraded," and I laughed at my self-deprecation.

The blonde smiling at me remained friendly. "Oh, I see -- so, any kids?"

Her stare suggested she didn't want to hear the truth, so I covered up with an accurate but tailored response. "No, Kitty and I don't have any baby yet -- who knows, although, I think she's practicing being a stay-at-home mom -- just, she doesn't have any kids yet." The woman chuckled, and I explained. "I work at a software company downtown, I have pretty long hours. Kitty doesn't need to work, so, right now she's just enjoying life, doing as she pleases -- it's fine by me, she puts a smile on my face every day."

***[My words to Brian's wife brought to mind exactly how Kitty can make me smile. There was this one morning I stood square to the mirror in our master bathroom, continually trying to fasten a tie to myself so it had the right length. Too long, too short, I couldn't get it right. It was still dark outside and I didn't expect Kitty to get up; she and I had been fucking deep into the night. But suddenly I felt her presence against me, sliding right up to me, her hand reaching around to my crotch and cupping my balls and dick in my underwear underneath my dress shirt. In a soft tone she purred, "Good morning, my love," smiling at me through the mirror.]***

***[I blinked at her in the mirror, surprised to see her. "What has you up early?" I asked. She shrugged, telling me nothing specific. When pressed by her inquiring husband, Kitty blushed and grinned. "Well, okay, to be really truthful, it's Thursday, I'll be going to the gym," she admitted with a shy, wry giggle. Turned out, there was a regular there, she'd been hitting on him for a month or so every Thursday, and last week he had sort of agreed maybe the two could "do lunch" this time. "Do lunch," Kitty's husband asked, "or do each other at lunch?"]***

***[Suddenly, my cock was hardening, thinking of my wife getting fucked while I was at work. Kitty's hand on my crotch felt it too, and without warning, she was on her knees on our bathroom floor, taking out her husband's hardening little erection and shoving my five-and-three-quarters inches into her mouth. "Is that okay, honey" moaned my slutty wife up to me, her cheek stretching around the head of my prick, "do you mind, I mean, is it okay if I bring a hot muscled stud home, and let him fuck my tight little cunt, baby?" Kitty knows my buttons and was pushing at them, hard. Her big brown eyes continued to stare up at me as she sucked my erection. "He's so fucking hot, his body is fucking muscles all over, I just want to lick him all over, and spread open my legs and show him I shaved my cunt for him, I'm gonna be so wet, I bet he's gonna make me cum so fucking hard, David, I wanna fuck him soooo badly!"]***

***[Then, completely understanding what motivates me, her slanted brown eyes turned up to me and she slurred with a throaty tone, "Don't you love it when your hot wife turns into a total cumslut for a man with a big hard cock?" Shit, her love of big cock gets me every time, and that time in the bathroom was no different. With her fist and mouth working on my dick, it only took a few moments for me to squirt my semen into Kitty's warm, loving mouth.]***

***[She swallowed my sperm greedily, licking off the last few drops, as she stared up with slutty eyes. "I love you, so much, David," she sighed with a delightful smile, "and I know you love me, honey, and I know you'll be smiling today not just because I sucked your dick, but because your little whoring wife is gonna get laid by a very handsome, horny stud." And, she was dead right -- I was smiling at that moment, and throughout the entire day.]***

Whatever I said to Brian's fat wife seemed to turn her off to any further conversation with me. I guess a busy, even frantic mother of four kids doesn't want to hear about a 29 year old woman's lifestyle of relaxation and bliss.

Thankfully, the woman and I were rescued from each other. Some other woman came up to us, and I didn't catch her name while shaking her hand hello, and she said something to Patty about helping to set up the food. That was a convenient excuse for the blonde to part her ways from me.

We'd been at the party over an hour, and the sun was already disappearing before a line of high evergreens atop the long hill that cuddles our community. But the party was more densely attended, and the smell of Bar-B-Q started wafting through the air as the dinner was being set on tables at the corner. I was really fucking hungry, I realized, having had nothing but a bottle of water since late morning. Time to get some food, I told myself.

As I stood patiently in line, I noticed Mr. Orange Shirt, he of the impeccable pectoral muscles, talking to two of his kids at the head of the line. My wife wasn't nearby, it seemed -- except, yes she was, across from him on the other side of the table, forming a second line at the food. She noticed me down the line and waived hello. Her big white grin was energetic.

***[Boy, I'd seen that wave before. Standing at our front door, she was wearing pink Lycra shorts that looked painted onto her small ass and slender thighs, barely covered by a black micro-skirt. I had just entered the house from the rear, and caught sight of her through the kitchen and living room. On top she had a light-blue tube-top, her A-cup tits and hard nipples making very visible shapes in the tight material, with a black vest somewhat covering but not hiding those breasts and flat tummy. Her small evening purse was slipped over her slender shoulder; she had on lush makeup and her hair was brushed out to its full luxurious length. Totally coincidentally, her date had pulled into our driveway maybe a half-minute after I pulled into our garage. Quickly exiting the house to jump into her date's ride, Kitty gave me that friendly, energetic wave. "Hi and bye!" she sang, adding "don't wait up baby, I love you, David, bye!" Then she disappeared for the rest of the night.]***

Snorting in amusement, I found myself surprised that Kitty would be having so much fun just talking to a hot married man. Apparently she could enjoy herself even if there was no chance they'd be getting naked together.

* * * *

Kitty watched Brian's oldest son, just shy of being a teenager, awkwardly try to chat with a pretty teenager a bit too old for him. As Brian came back to her side, both of them standing near the fence at the edge of the backyard, Kitty nodded in the boy's direction. "Good for him, he looks like quite the lady's man." She winked. "Gets that from his Daddy, doesn't he?"

Brian shrugged and laughed, turning to look back at his son a moment before facing my petite wife again. "We'll see. He's been eyeing her all afternoon, I was getting tired of watching him do nothing about it." He lowered his voice, after scanning the nearby party guests to make sure no one was listening. "Sometimes you just have to say what's on your mind, and go for it -- I mean, you only live once, right?"

The sexual joking earlier had achieved its mission. With my petite Chinese-American wife smiling up at him, her slim body clad in her loose sundress, he was having very vivid thoughts right now.

My slutwife knew it. "Is that your credo, Brian -- do you 'go for it,' I mean, you too only live once, right?"

He stepped closer to her, nervously looking around a second time. He'd been talking to Kitty the majority of the party, and he hoped no one was noticing. He also hoped no one -- except Kitty -- observed the throbbing erection in his jogging shorts, which is why he stood facing her, away from everyone else. "I'd like to, you know," he moaned softly, almost in a depressed tone, "sometimes when you're all grown up, it's not always so easy."

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