Out for drinks last night with friends, old college buddies and the like. My 35 yr. old wife offered to take our friend Rick home, as he’d “had too much to drink.” They’d played together once before and she has been eager for a return engagement.
So they left the club, he in her car, and made for home an hour or so before we all abandoned ship. I had left the option open to her as to whether or not she wanted to come home or stay with Rick until morning. Our kids were at the grandparents and sometimes the anticipation and waiting for her to return home are a great thrill. Plus, I trust this lover of hers and she enjoys his company.
As the group broke up and we prepared to disperse many were unready to head home. I was the only one living in town and sans children at home so it was decided to ‘after-party’ at my house.
How to explain the absence of my wife I hadn’t decided.
Made it to the house, got people settled, and of course all were crowded into the kitchen consuming. Eventually the conversation turned to, “Hey, where’s your wife?” Some jokes were made about her ‘Probably fucking Rick …’ and I laughed it off with a “Somebody needs to …”
One particular guest was a friend named Jim we’d met only two months earlier. A mutual attraction was obvious upon he and Becky’s first meeting and they’d spent a great deal of time talking and flirting. Later she’d said he was an excellent potential playmate and that she’d like to get with him. Of course I gave her permission, as he seemed decent enough. Divorced, lived an hour away, respectful, etc.
Things progressed at home and Jim asked suspiciously, “Will Becky be here tonight? Or is she coming home?” His hopeful grin as he asked this hinted that he might suppose where she was and what she was doing.
“I’ll call her,” I replied.
When my wife answered her cell phone she was a bit breathless and somewhat giggly, as if she’d been laughing about something. “What?” she answered with a feigned annoyed voice.
“How are you doing?”
“Oh, well we’re almost done cleaning the bathroom and we’ll start on the kitchen next.”
“You’re doing it in the bathroom?”
“No, damnit, Rick’s been fucking my brains out here in his big bed. He’s so damned good …”
My dick was just rock hard at this point.
“In fact if you’d let me off the phone I’m going to make him stop eating me, suck his dick hard, and have him fuck me from behind. Again,” she continued.
At this point I wondered if I could actually come in my jeans without manual stimulation. I think I could have that night.
So I told her, “Well, I don’t know if you were planning on staying the night or not but we have some house guests looking for you.”
“Oh shit,” she said, “what did you tell them.”
“Nothing. They know you drove Rick home but that’s it,” I told her.
“Who is there?” she asked. Then, to the side of the mouthpiece, “It’s okay, don’t stop …”
I gave her a list of guests then ended with, “… and Jim. Remember Jim?”
She was silent a half second then replied with a half-panting, “Oh God … don’t let him leave. I’ll be there right after Rick makes me cum again.”