“What’s on your mind?” she asked me smiling, betraying that weird sixth sense that women seem to have about what the men in their lives were thinking.
We were in a restaurant having dinner, nearly a week after Amy had her encounter with Anthony Salvo. We had sex several times since that night, and each time had been more fantastic than the time before. The whole experience had a positive effect on her, I was almost certain of it. Still, as she looked at me, I could see a glimmer of self-doubt in her eyes.
“I was just thinking about how sexy you look tonight” I told her as I reached out and squeezed her hand.
She laughed as she returned the squeeze.
“Bullshit!” she said, before taking a sip of her wine. “That’s not what you’re thinking – I know you better than that.”
“Ok, if you know me so well, tell me what I’m thinking” I said, in a weak attempt at calling her bluff.
I watched as a brief, barely perceptible blush tinted her cheeks, and I knew what she was thinking – which meant she knew what I was thinking as well.
“You know goddamn well what you’re thinking” she said in a hushed voice, as if any other patrons in a busy restaurant would hear us. “You’re thinking about what happened. You’re thinking about your friend from work, and how he…”
Her voice trailed off in her hesitation to complete the thought. She didn’t need to say it out loud. It had been what I had been thinking about, and now it was out there. And I made no effort to deny it.
“You’ve thought about it too” I said to her. “You don’t need to tell me how much you liked it. But you can at least admit now how desirable you are to other men.”
She laughed softly across the table as she swirled the remainder of the wine in her glass.
“Yes, I liked it” she said. “But part of the reason I liked it was because of how excited it got you.”
I was in no place to argue with that, especially given the fact that my cock was getting hard just talking about it.
“As far as me being desirable to other men, this is a friend of yours from work for crying out loud. I have no idea what you guys talk about or how you put him up to something like that.”
It was a statement so ridiculous to me I hesitated, waiting for her to tell me she was just joking.
But she wasn’t.
“Are you serious?” I asked her. “After all that you don’t think guys drool just by looking at you.”
She gave me the familiar eye roll that instantly dismissed any notion of my suggestion.
I leaned back and took a drink from my own wine glass, not believing what I was hearing. My eyes scanned the restaurant in an effort to look away from my wife, as I mulled over my frustration. I looked out at the lounge adjoining the restaurant and the crowd of weekenders drinking and mingling. It was getting late on a Friday evening, and I watched as the bar started filling with men.
“I bet if you walked into that bar you would have a guy hitting on you inside of ten minutes” I told her.
She followed my eyes to look at the adjoining bar, seeming to do an inventory of the quickly growing crowd. After a minute she turned back.
“Bet? What are you talking about? What kind of bet?” she asked.
“You go in there and sit at the bar for ten minutes. If you don’t have a guy try to pick you up in that time, then I’ll admit I’m wrong.”
“And” she added, “You need to do whatever I want in the bedroom.”
“Fine” I said, quickly agreeing with her, thrilled at whatever thing it was she wanted me to do in the bedroom.
“But if I’m right, and I will be, you are going to have a guy hitting on you inside of ten minutes. And then you have to do whatever I say.”
She looked back at me with the same level of intrigue as I had at her bedroom suggestion. She glanced back into the bar as if she was calculating her odds.
“Well?” I asked her. “Chicken?”
“You’re on” she said, and I watched as she stood and pivoted, making her way towards the bustling bar.
She wasn’t wearing the red dress, but she still looked stunning, and completely appropriate for the bar she was about to enter. She was wearing a simple pair of jeans with a scoop necked shirt, that was tight enough to show off all that God had given her up top. The jeans fit her like a second skin, and I couldn’t help marveling at the curve of her ass as she walked away from me and entered the lively bar. The worst case scenario from this would be I would take her home and fuck her myself, which meant that I would be a winner no matter how this turned out.
I watched as she crossed the room and made her way to the bar. Like most crowded rooms that Amy entered, I got to watch a sprinkling of male heads turn as she glided her way through the crowd. There were only a couple of empty seats at the bar, and I watched eagerly as she planted her denim covered ass on one towards the end.
There was a dance floor at the opposite end of the bar, and even from the restaurant I could feel the low buzz of music as people danced on the dance floor. The average age inside the bar was younger than the two of us I realized, and I wondered if I had spoken too soon as I placed our bet. I glanced at my watch and reasoned that three of my ten minutes had already passed as I looked back up to survey the inhabitants of the bar.
Like any bar there were groups of young men scattered throughout, surveying the occupants of the bar like a pack of hungry hyenas. I looked at the population of young women in the bar, and quickly did the math as I tried to calculate my odds. There were slightly more men in the bar, giving me some hope that I stood a decent chance. And even as I was doing my best bar math, I looked up to see a young man approaching my wife.
He was tall and broad shouldered, and looked like he could have maybe been an athlete on the local college team. I watched him as he approached Amy and said something to her, and she put her head back to laugh. I thought about all the corny pick-up lines I had used in college, and could only imagine what a guy like this was saying to a woman who was clearly older than him. I glanced down at my watch.
Six minutes had passed – easily enough for me to be the winner of our bet…
I watched him as he gestured to the bartender, obviously ordering Amy a drink. He continued talking animatedly, no doubt doing his best to try and finesse this sexy, older woman. The bartender returned with a couple of drinks and I watched as Amy and her new friend toasted each other and continued with their conversation.
I realized as I watched them that this was a validating event for me as well as Amy. Anthony Salvo was a man my own age, and it had been exciting to watch him have his way with my wife. But here was a man much younger, in a room with plenty of young women, and it had still been Amy that he chose to hit on. I watched him as he talked to her, casually touching her on the arm as he got closer, and wondered what it would be like for a younger man like that to be with her.
I was wondering exactly how far Amy was going to go with this guy when the tempo of the music changed and a slow dance song came on. His next move was obvious, as I watched him offer Amy his hand and the two of them headed to the dance floor. I caught the slightest glimpse of her, casting her eyes in my direction, before she turned away and the two of them started dancing.
I wondered what was going through this guy’s head as he had his arms around her, dancing to their slow song. I knew the type of thing I would be thinking if I was a young guy trying to pick up an older woman in a bar, and it wouldn’t have been looking for a girl to take home to mom. Even as I sat there watching I saw his hands touching her – first on the arm, then on her shoulders, and then lightly touching the top of her ass. He was clearly testing the water, almost certainly trying to calculate his odds of scoring with my wife.
Amy was playing along with it, although that was exactly what I had wanted. I had wanted to see another guy drooling over her, to prove the point I had been trying to make all along. And now that I had won the bet, I needed to decide how far I wanted it to go. And watchi
ng this young guy touching my wife, I was starting to realize I had already made my decision.
I wanted it to go a step farther…
The music stopped and I watched him lean in close to her, his lips almost touching her neck. He was either talking to her or kissing her – I was too far to tell. But I watched as she put her head back next to his and spoke. And a moment later he broke their embrace, and I watched as he walked out the door.
Amy came walking back to our table, wearing the jaded smile of someone who knows they just lost a bet. She looked even sexier approaching the table than she had as she was leaving it, and I watched her as she pushed a lock of hair from her face before speaking.
“Ok, ok, Mr. Smartypants – you win” she said.
“Wow, he was good looking. And young. See that? It’s not just the old fucks like me that have the hots for you. What did he say?” I asked her.
“What else? He asked me if I wanted to go home with him.”
“Really?” I mused, while continuing to look at her.
“What? You don’t really want me to do that, do you?” she asked.
“I don’t know – you did lose the bet after all, I get whatever I want. Where did he go?”
“He said he needed to go to his car for something” she said, before adding “I told him I would think about it, because I didn’t want to sound like a total bitch.”
I nodded my head. I didn’t want her to sound like a total bitch either. What I wanted was for her to go home with him and see how far he would try to get. The idea of an athletic college guy having his way with my wife was making my dick stiff. I reached in my pocket, grabbed my car keys and slid them across the table to her.
“Take the car and tell him you’ll follow him to his place. I’ll call a cab. And you have to tell me every last detail.”
Chapter 6
I was worried sick. It was officially a few minutes past midnight and I still had not heard from her. I was angry at myself for ever letting her go off with a strange guy. What had started as a lustful fantasy had led to me sharing my wife and waiting at home for her after midnight, not knowing if she was ok.
What the fuck was I thinking?
I thought about how I had originally entered into this as a way to improve her self-image. She had so much doubt about her sexiness that it was all I could do to convince her that she was as sexy as hell. But now I was wondering who it was I was trying to convince all along, and the thought that I put her in harm’s way was making me sick to my stomach.
And then I heard the familiar slam of our car door in the driveway.
“Hello?” she sang as she came into the house.
“Jesus Christ – Where have you been? What the hell happened?”
She gave me a look that was surprise mixed with flattery.
“You were worried about me?”
“Fuck yes! I never should have let you go. What happened?” I asked her again.
I watched as my wife sauntered over to where I was on the couch. I realized, as had she, that the tables were suddenly turned. It was now me that was begging for details about what had happened.
“Well, I got to his apartment, and went inside. And we made out for a while” she said.
She sat down in the chair opposite the couch and started to unlace her shoes. I realized as she did it that she was in the exact same chair I had sat in to watch Tony Salvo have his way with her.
“That’s it? That what you’ve been doing for the last two hours? Making out with him?”
“No, of course not silly” she said, as she kicked off her shoes. “He’s a guy for Christ’s sake Mark. As soon as we started making out, he had his hands all over me, and was trying to get my clothes off. And I really didn’t want it to go that far – not without you there.”
I could see him kissing her in my mind. I could see him feeling Amy up and trying to get her clothes off. And I could feel my cock starting to stir as my wife sat there looking at me.
“So? What did you do next?”
She stood up and shook out her hair as she walked over to the couch. I started to slide over to offer her a seat beside me but she dropped down on the floor in front of the couch and placed her hand on my crotch. My cock had gotten hard enough that I knew she could feel it, and I stopped talking as her hands started to work the zipper on my pants.
“Well, like I said, he had his hands all over me. And I knew if I let him go too much further he would try to fuck me, and I didn’t want to do that. He had already gotten my shirt off, and you know how I get when someone starts playing with my tits. So I thought I would just, you know, find another way to get him off.”
She had gotten my zipper undone and slid her hand into my pants with her last statement, adding a nice compliment to the telling of her story. I felt her warm hand surrounding my cock as it rose to complete hardness.
“So you jerked him off?” I asked, suddenly hoping that was where it had stopped.
“Not exactly” she said, and I watched her as her head dropped.
I felt her warm, wet mouth suddenly surround my cock as she continued to stroke me. I watched her head bob up and down, and I tried to wrap my head around the fact that she must have just done this to another man. I started to lean back on the couch and relax before realizing that her story was not over.
“So wait, that’s it? You gave him a blowjob?”
She looked up at me and she raised her head, letting my cock slip from her mouth. I watched her as she removed her hands from my cock and moved them to the buttons on her blouse.
“Not exactly” she said again, as she started to unbutton her shirt.
I watched as her gorgeous cleavage came into view, one button at a time. It was a view that another man had enjoyed tonight, and that was a thought that was starting to make me jealous. She reached the last button and slipped the blouse from her shoulders, leaving her in only her sheer, black bra. I reached out to help her removed the bra but she playfully pushed my hands away.
“He kept playing with my tits Mark, and you know how I get. It was driving me absolutely crazy!” she said, and with that she released the clasp of her bra.
As long as we had been married, I had never tired from watching her naked breasts swing free from the confines of a bra. Looking at them now and knowing that another man had been grabbing at them hours before was enough to drive me crazy. Not knowing what happened next was going to cause me to go absolutely insane.
She reached up and grabbed the waist band of my pants, yanking them with full force to bring them to my knees. My stiff, unrestrained cock bobbed forward as she did it, a testament to what her story was doing to me. She reached out tentatively to touch it, frustrating me with her reluctance to finish the story.
“So what happened? Did you fuck him?”
She leaned back and stood up, and I watched as her hands went to the waist band of her jeans. She unzipped and started to pull, peeling the tight denim from her body. I determined at that moment that there was nothing sexier than my wife, topless, wiggling out of a pair of tight jeans.
“Well then he started playing with my pussy. And you know how wet my pussy gets after you’ve been playing with my tits.”
She reached down and touched herself as she talked, emphasizing her point with erotic clarity. The change in my wife’s attitude was not lost on me. She was dragging this story out for everything it was worth and it was absolutely killing me. I felt wetness against my own leg and looked down to see a spot of precum dribbling from the tip of my hard cock.
“As much as I tried to stop him” she went on, “He got my panties off and really started to go to town.”
It was suddenly killing me. Everything that had been sexy and alluring about it was lost and I wondered how I had let her get fucked by another man. It was my own fucking fault but I realized I didn’t want to hear any more. I looked away even as she stepped forward and straddled my naked body.
“But I told him I wasn’t going to fuck him” she
said, and she grabbed my hard cock and slowly started to stroke it. “I told him I wasn’t fucking anyone any more except for my husband. And I told him as I was jerking him off so I don’t think it mattered all that much to him anyway. He was just a kid after all Mark. He came within two minutes of me touching him.”
I felt her shift her body as she finished her story and I suddenly felt her wet heat above the tip of my cock. She relaxed her body and I felt the full weight of her slide down over my shaft. She was warm and snug and I realized that she had been telling me the truth, and she had not had another man inside of her tonight. I reached around and grabbed the curves of her ass as she started to rise and fall on top of me.
“I’m not fucking anyone anymore except my husband” she said again.
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Sharing Amy: The Persuasion of a Hesitant Hotwife Page 4