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"Are you thinking about her?"

My wife and I went to a wedding last Fall and it may have changed our sex life forever.

Our close friends from college, both artists in California, decided to get married near family (and us) in the midwest U. S. That was great news for two reasons. First, it meant we could actually afford to go. And second, since the only other friends they invited were art scene people we didn’t know, we could fully cut loose.

We got to the venue about half an hour before the ceremony and were blown away. Not only was the industrial warehouse space spectacular, but we had never seen a trendier, more attractive group of people. The dress code was formal on paper, but the guests had obviously interpreted that liberally, wearing a host of exotic fabric suits and bright, bold dresses. We stuck out a bit in our traditional attire, but we didn’t mind.

Right after the short but classy ceremony, we got in line for the bar. And that’s when things got interesting. My wife enjoys women but is guarded about it and usually very sexually reserved in public. So, I was nothing short of stunned when she tapped my shoulder and whispered in my ear, ā€œholy shit this chick behind us in the purple dress is hot.ā€ That sent an electrifying charge up my spine, which only got more powerful when I turned around. Hot was an understatement.

The girl in question was short and fit with the muscular figure of a yoga instructor. Her tiny mauve dress left little to the imagination, curving tightly over her small but sculpted breasts, and clinging closely to one of the finest asses I had ever seen. Her shoulder length dark brown hair was complemented perfectly by two full sleeves of tattoos, a sexy black hoop nose ring, and piercing brown eyes. I was so awe struck in that moment—blood diverting instantly from my brain to my cock—that I didn’t even think to hide it from my wife. She let me admire for a few seconds before bringing me back to earth: ā€œah, I see you agree.ā€"Are you thinking about her?" фото

A little embarrassed, I managed to mutter: ā€œuh… surprised at you being so forward is all. But yes anyone with eyes would agree.ā€ Right then, the bartender handed us our drinks and the moment was gone. Our conversation never returned to the girl in the purple dress during the reception, but it felt like there was a little extra heat between us as we danced. Maybe my wife felt my dick stiffen every time those tattoos or the bouncing ass below them danced into view, or maybe not. But I can tell you with absolute certainty that my wife’s eyes lingered longingly on the outline of that alluring stranger’s thong more than once.

When we drunkenly stumbled through our front door at 2 AM, we had just enough energy to make it to bed. My wife was quickly out like a light. But, as tired as I was, I couldn’t stop thinking about the the work of art in the purple dress. Or shake the erotic thrill of my beautiful wife wanting to fuck her more than I did. So, I slipped out to the living room as furtively as possible. Without turning the lights on or making a sound, I slowly made my way to the couch, settled in, and started stroking my cock.

I was immediately steeped in fantasy. Entranced by a series of vivid images: my wife finally removing that purple dress, eagerly admiring the curving figure underneath, playfully biting a stranger’s aroused nipples, and slipping a hand toward the unfamiliar playground of a new clit. I was absolutely rock hard now. With an urgent, almost desperate desire to release the aching tension that had been building for hours, I started focusing on my frenulum for maximum pleasure. And thats when I suddenly heard ā€œyou’re thinking about her aren’t you?ā€

I froze instantly. Horrified at the thought of being caught, and unable to see anything in the pitch black, I had no idea what to do. I sat there paralyzed with my hand securely fastened to my throbbing shaft. Then, from about a foot away, I heard my wife whisper, ā€œdon’t stop on my account… here, why don’t I help you.ā€

The harsh light of her phone screen blazed next to me as she sat down. My heart began to beat again, but tentatively. She pulled up instagram and … the beating accelerated to roar as it dawned on me whose feed was on show. Purple dress girl knew she was gorgeous and clearly enjoyed using it for attention. I didn’t even think to ask how my wife had discovered this erotic treasure trove because, suddenly, her hand was cupping my balls while she scrolled. ā€œHmm plenty of sexy ones here,ā€ she whispered, ā€œbut let’s see if we can find you a thirst trap.ā€

I unconsciously started stroking myself, submitting fully to lust. My eyes had closed for a moment, luxuriating in the subtle pleasure of my wife’s skilled fingers, when I heard the most tantalizing whimper. ā€œShe just posted a picture of herself from tonight. Give me that cock and don’t you fucking dare take your eyes off her.ā€ She held the screen up with one hand and went to town on me with the other. The girl in the purple dress was lying on a stone wall, facing the camera. Mauve cloth was hiked to the edge of an R rating, and nipples poked out almost fully visible in the cold. Bright tattoo sleeves showcased shapely, muscular arms. And all of her was enhanced by a devilish, lovely, knowing smile.

ā€œYou’re so bad pleasuring yourself to another woman … even one as irresistable as she is. But that’s ok because you’re going to give ME your cum aren’t you?ā€ I could barely let out a squeak in response. That seemed to be the right answer because it prompted her to crane down and lube my cock with her mouth. After wetting every erect inch for about a minute, she took one long, gagging deep throat and slowly released me. As she gasped to regain breath, she didnt miss a beat in returning to full length strokes over my drenched package. This quickly coaxed from me a gutteral, almost growling moan that signaled the point of no return. ā€œThat’s right,ā€ she said, as her hand rythmicly slid to a thud at the base of my shaft. ā€œMake sure you empty those balls all over her perfect tits. I need a good excuse to taste her.ā€ I writhed in ecstasy as she said those words, exploding so powerfully that I covered myself and her phone screen in a shower of hot cum.

We sat there in silence for a bit as she slowed her stroking. Then, as nonchalantly as could be, she got up and walked back to the bedroom. In the darkness, all I heard before drifting off into a blissful, post-nut sleep was ā€œthat was fun. Just don’t forget that you and your cum belong to me.ā€

Our sex life has been better than my wildest dreams since.

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