Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, so, well into my second glass of Pinot, I picked up the phone and rang Paul’s mobile. He doesn’t like me ringing him when he’s at home with his wife, but I wasn’t going to risk wasting an evening.
“Can you talk?”
“Yes, for a few minutes, what is it?”
“Hubby is away tomorrow night, are you free?”
“I thought I might not hear from you again, after I gave you that little surprise.”
“You mean buggering me without my permission?”
“Yes, that.”
“Well you are hearing from me.”
“That’s good, but I’m afraid there’s a problem with tomorrow”
“Oh damn, aren’t you at the hotel?”
“I am at the hotel, but I’m having dinner down the road with a colleague.”
“Oh, that’s a shame, I’m so horny.”
“That seems like a waste, why don’t you join us, I’m sure Peter won’t mind.”
“Ok, if you’re sure he won’t mind”
“I’m sure he won’t, but just in case, wear a dress and no knickers. We can let him know when we are having a drink before dinner.”
“But that will make him think that you’re both going to fuck me.”
“Yes, it will, won’t it. Meet us at 7:30 in the hotel lobby”
“Gosh…ok…7:30 and no knickers.”
“Got to go…see you tomorrow.”
Monday morning I went off to work wondering what on earth I was thinking the night before when I let Paul talk me into having a threesome with him and a colleague I’d never even met. Paul on his own was a bit of a handful, but with two of them I would be completely out of control. By late afternoon, I still had butterflies in my stomach, but I was starting to get really excited. I slipped away a bit early, so I could have plenty of time for pampering, and really went to town with the preparation. I chose a fairly tight dress, with a supported bust, so I wouldn’t need a bra. Obviously I wasn’t allowed knickers, but at least the pencil shaped dress couldn’t blow up in the wind.
I spent so long making myself look gorgeous that I was nearly late and realised I hadn’t phoned hubby. In the end he rang me as I was driving to the hotel, and I told him a bit of a fib, saying that I was having dinner with some of the girls from work. Since he wasn’t yet locked up in a cage, I didn’t want to get him all upset at me going out with no knickers on to have sex with two hunky guys.
“Here’s Sarah, Sarah this is Peter.”
“Hi Peter, it’s nice to meet you.”
“And it’s great to meet you Sarah, Paul didn’t exaggerate, you look fantastic.”
“Thank you Peter, Paul didn’t mention that you were an American.”
“Does that matter?”
“Of course not.”
“Have you dressed as I instructed?” Paul went straight for the killer punch.
“Yes, of course, no underwear at all in fact.”
“Wow! You sure are one sexy lady.” Peter offered, looking into my eyes, but I suspect thinking about other parts of my body.
Standing, inadequately dressed between these charming, attractive, successful men, I felt an incredible frisson of excitement. I knew that this was exactly how I wanted to live my life in future. I decided there and then that my husband would be in a permanent chastity cage within one month, and that like it or not he would have to come to terms with me cuckolding him on a regular basis. I had come to the conclusion that I loved sex too much to dedicate my whole sexual future to one man, and that, in fact, I needed to push the boundaries way beyond what my husband could accept were he free to choose.
“So Sarah, what can I get you to drink?”
“Paul, you know what I drink. Get a bottle of Moets please. Peter, will you drink some champagne with me? I know Paul prefers his malt whisky.”
“I’d love to help you with this first bottle Sarah. Do you always drink champagne?”
“Well, my husband, being a bit of a cheapskate, often gives me Prosecco, but I prefer Moet. Have you been there, by the way? We had a private tour.”
“What, of Moet?”
“Yes, of course, in Epernay”
“No I haven’t, but I would love to, perhaps you might consider going again with me?”
“I might…we’ll see.”
Paul arrived back from the bar with a bottle of Moet, two champagne flutes, and a large whisky for him. We toasted having a fun evening, and chatted about nothing important, until Paul put down his whisky glass.
