Ex-wifey's Halloween Whaletail Pt. 02

"What a little slut," I thought to myself, completely turned on by her misbehavior.

I guess she deserves for me to say her name. Fuck it. My ex-wife, Karissa, continued grinding on Slash. He was head-to-toe in fake leather as well with his jacked unbuttoned. I was jealous that clear into his 30s, maybe older, he could still pull off that look. Plus he was grinding with my 24-year old wife.

She pressed her ass into him, pushing her tight, black leather shorts to the limit. He held her by the hips as she moved to the pounding beat reverberating the room. I wished he was pounding her already. His hands explored her body slowly. He had such restraint, waiting to move his hands until her body begged him to. I could only wish to have such control of my desires. He paused for a moment at her waist, hands directly over her thong straps sticking above her shorts. He touched them for a moment, then held them as she bent down low. "What a little, fucking slut," he must have been thinking, her bent at a 90 degree angle jamming her married ass into him. Continuing dancing to the rhythm, she turned upright, pressing her back against his bare chest.

In that moment, my pale, shy little princess looked like a true rockstar, facing the crowd with her black thong showing, grinding like her life depended on it with a man she met five minutes ago. It was like she was a completely different woman. One who craved nothing but a new man's touch, and the feeling of winning him over. All while her husband watched. From the look on her face, she was enjoying this more than she expected. She was lost in the moment, dancing with this man and striving to impress him like she was hammered off cheap college vodka.

I was unbearably turned on as I imagined how her ass must feel against him, leather on leather, so much heat and electric sexual tension between them. He was a tall man, probably 6'3" or more, and I imagined that he was hard as a rock against my wife's leather ass. There's no way she couldn't feel him. I was hard as absolute fuck watching them, my cock begging me to get in on the action. But deep in my desires, I knew I loved watching just as much. If not more.

Karissa's eyes connected with mine again. Then she looked back at him. I thought for a moment they were going to kiss. I imagined them making out like animals in front of me, daring me to stop them. But she had a look in her eyes that told me she wouldn't. Not yet. People noticed. I saw a couple near us whisper in each other's ear and point. They beckoned to their friends who looked too. "Get a room," they were probably saying. My wife turned towards the man dressed as Slash, black whaletail now on full display above her tight shorts. With one hand, he grabbed her ass and held her close. She was overcome by the moment. It was too perfect, everyone watching her and the build up reaching a crescendo. Slowly they kissed, her hands pressed against his chest. In that moment I must admit, it was perfect. It was if she came to the party just for him. She was his perfect accessory. She was all his. They made out as a crowd started to form. Six, seven, eight random people staring, watching my wife make out with a stranger.

I was ready to stop the show, but he picked her up with big, powerful arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist. They kept kissing. For a moment, I couldn't stop them. I noticed her whaletail had fallen down a little. I realized all I could do at this point was help. I wanted to help. I stepped through the crowd up to the dirty dancing stars of the show, reached into her tight shorts and pulled her thong back out, as the crowd cheered. "Don't worry, she's my wife," I said.

Just kidding. This was my first time seeing my ex-wife like this and I had way too much shame to do what I wanted. I did what I was supposed to do. As I walked towards them, I tapped one of her arms draping around his neck. "Hey Karissa, baby." I said. "We gotta go."

She opened her eyes and smiled at me with proud satisfaction. "Okay baby," she said, hopping down from his arms and wiping her mouth. She dutifully pulled her shorts up and fixed her thong so that it wasn't on display anymore. She was a little quiet as we left the party, but the whole way home, she talked non-stop about what a fun night we had. Her eyes glowing with excitement I hadn't seen in two years.

As we got home, she asked, "You aren't mad, are you baby?"

"Sweetheart," I said as I unlocked the front door. "I have never been prouder. Or more turned on."

That night, Karissa and I had the best sex that I remember us having. Maybe the best sex I've ever had. I took her from behind, smashing into her slutty, little pussy, making sure she knew she was mine again. I thought of Slash's view as she danced with him, how great that must have looked, and how it looked from my angle, taking in the show. She got on top of me. She rode me until we were both ready to cum. She put her thong in my mouth, and the taste confirmed how deliciously turned on she was that night. I erupted inside, and we fell asleep naked. Ah, how things were so great in those early days...