Bowling Lessons for a Naughty Wife

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Wife turns hubby's wife sharing fantasy into a reality.
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Looking back on it, I only wish I hadn't waited so long to have done it. I never thought I'd even do it, much less enjoy it so much, but turns out, it was one of the most exciting things I've ever done. The fact that my husband not only wanted me to do it, but probably enjoyed it even more than I did, is just icing on the cake.

This is the story of how I made my husband's wildest, deepest fantasy a reality. This is the story of the day I slept with a man other than my husband for the first time in my life.

My husband, you see, has forever tried to get me to sleep with someone else. We've been together for 12-years, married for ten, and he was the first guy I ever slept with. I've never even had any desire to sleep with another man, with or without his permission. It's just not who I am, not what I crave. I don't get why he wants it so badly, either. Why would your husband want you to have sex with another man? It's never made any sense to me, and in fact it still doesn't. So why I ended up doing it, is anyone's guess.

I met Brian, ironically, during my bowling league. Ironic, I say, because I met my husband while he was working at a bowling alley. Brian bowled on another team in our league and we always seem to get along pretty well. I'm usually a pretty quiet, reserved person who likes to blend in and not be noticed. Yet he would always seem to gravitate towards me whenever we bowled against each other, or near each other's lanes. Before long it became apparent that he was indeed, actually kinda flirting with me. If my husband knew, he would have been thrilled, but he also would have pestered me about it constantly and pressured me to sleep with him, so I never told him. After all, I certainly never had any intention of going to bed with him. But I did find I began to really enjoy the attention and found myself disappointed whenever our teams were on either end of the league and I didn't get much of a chance to talk with him.

Whereas I'm a casual bowler who throws a straight ball, Brian is a more serious bowler with a 190 average, who throws the ball with a curve. One night we were talking and he was suggesting that I should try learning to throw the ball with a hook. He said he would teach me how, and invited me to join him that Sunday morning and bowl with him. The alley had a good practice price for league bowlers at that time and he was usually there every Sunday. The first couple of times he suggested this, I said no. The third time, however, with a tingling in my stomach, I surprised myself by agreeing to it. Again, though, there was no way I was going to tell my husband about this, especially since I still didn't believe there was any way I'd end up sleeping with him.

I made up a story about my mom wanting me to go somewhere with her because my dad couldn't, left my husband at home with the kids, and met Brian that Sunday morning at 10:30. I wore my teal Capri pants and, you gotta love California in the winter, a pretty white, spring-like blouse. I wore my hair in a ponytail. A very cute look, nothing over the top or too suggestive, yet one I knew my husband would like if he knew what I was doing. Underneath I wore a sheer white bra on top (my husband's favorite because you could see my nipples clearly through it), and his favorite pair of panties; green with black polka dots and lots of black lace, especially in the ass. My husband really loves my ass, and I have to agree with him. It's my best physical feature.

Again, I never expected I was going to have sex with Brian and I didn't expect him to end up seeing what I had on underneath, I wore those simply because I knew my husband would enjoy knowing (someday) what I had worn, especially the panties, yet I found that while in Brian's presence, especially as he flirted with me, I felt a little sexier knowing I had them on.

Now when I say Brian was flirting with me, mind, it wasn't an overt, overly flirtatious flirting, but more of a subtle kind of flirting. He was clearly mindful and respectful of the fact that I was married, which I never hid from him, but at the same time I was getting the impression that he would be interested in more if I was. What he didn't know was that my husband not only wouldn't mind, but would practically beg me to sleep with him if he knew. It had all the elements and excitement of doing something taboo, without the negative consequences. I knew all I'd have to do is tell my husband all about it, and not only would he be ok with it, he'd be thrilled out of his mind. It gave me freedom and I surprisingly found myself embracing the role playing aspect of it. I had expected I would eventually tell my husband about going bowling with Brian, and teasing him about it, as a treat, but I just didn't think there was any way I'd go any further than that, no matter how badly I knew he wanted me to.

What can I say? Sometimes you just change your mind.

As I said, we met around 10:30, he even brought a 10 pound finger-tip drilled ball for me to practice with. It wasn't perfectly drilled for my small hand, but it was close. It belonged to his younger sister, he told me. About Brian, he's about 5'11", a little taller than my husband, and quite a bit taller than my 5'3". He has wavy, medium length brown hair and a mustache, probably weighs around 200 pounds and isn't at all unattractive, sporting a sort of average boy next door look. At 30, he's five years younger than me, and never been married, nor does he currently have a girlfriend.

We bowled several games, though we took our time and talked a lot. We always seemed to find a lot to talk about, without really talking about much. I really enjoyed his company, and though I didn't think he was necessarily hot, or great looking, I did think he was cute in his own way. He also instructed me on how to throw a finger-tip ball, or at least he tried. I think I'm just determined to throw the ball straight. But several times he got right up behind me while instructing me on how to hold and throw the ball in the same flirtatious way a guy teaches a girl how to play pool. I felt sixteen again and my skin tingled when I felt him up close to me like that. It definitely gave me an unexpected rush.

I was surprised when I realized that we'd bowled four games over an hour and a half. I wasn't used to bowling four games and my arm was exhausted. After I commented on that, he offered to give me a quick neck and arm massage. I readily agreed and he sat down behind me in a chair on the concourse. I'm very sensitive and tickle easily, but he had a nice and firm, yet not too firm, way of rubbing my neck and shoulders that felt wonderful after four games of bowling. I groaned softly in appreciation.

It felt really good and I didn't want him to stop. Luckily for me, though not surprisingly, he didn't seem to want to stop either. In fact, he soon suggested I turn my chair around so he could work my lower back as well. Seemed like a good suggestion to me, so I did as he suggested and leaned forward over the back of the chair I was now sitting backwards in. I was sure he could probably see the top of my sexy panties as he massaged my back, and that thought gave me an extra little rush. If my husband could just see this, he'd be going nuts! This was going to be one helluva treat for him (I was thinking of saving it to tell him at Christmas).

The massage continued for almost 20 incredibly relaxing minutes. When he finished, he stated he was famished and that I ought to let him take me out to lunch. I had not intended to go any further than bowling with him, but I was hungry, and that would certainly make it an even more special treat. And although it meant getting home later than expected, I was sure my husband would not object, not that he had any other option. I simply texted him that I would be back later, after lunch, and agreed to let Brian escort me there.

I followed him in my car from there to Panera Bread where we had a nice lunch together. He continued to flirt with me, not overtly, but subtly in his respectful way. He asked me what I had planned for the rest of the afternoon, and did I have to get home, and I replied – to my own astonishment – that I had nothing going on and, no, I didn't have to get home for a while. He suggested then, that we should go back to his place and watch a movie – 50 Shades of Grey – for we had been talking about how we had both read the book. I could hardly believe what happened next.

I said yes.

After texting my husband and telling him I'd be with my mom through the afternoon, and knowing he wouldn't doubt me for a minute, we left and I followed him back to his apartment, my head spinning the entire drive there. What was I doing? I wondered. What was I thinking? How far was I going to take this? Was I really considering doing what it seemed like I was? Then I began to wonder if I wasn't just imagining what was going on, that Brian didn't really want me in that way, we were just friends getting along well. Maybe he wasn't really flirting with me. And what's wrong with just watching a movie together? Maybe nothing was going to happen other than watching a movie. A movie with lots of sex in it. Uh-huh.

By the time we got to his place, I had convinced myself that I had imagined the whole thing; that nothing was going on. We were just going to innocently watch a movie together, then I'd go home. I had completely fooled myself. It soon became apparent that I hadn't imagined anything.

We sat down on the couch in his living room and he got the movie set up. He offered me something to drink and I accepted water, He had a soda for himself and he popped a bag of popcorn. Then saying, "can't watch a movie without red vines!" he brought out a package of those movie favorites I can't resist!

Being a single guy, it was not surprising that he had spent a fair amount of money on a very sophisticated movie and sound system, and his couch was quite comfortable and not just a little bit cozy, too. After closing the drapes and lowering the lights in the room, he sat a respectable distance away while we ate popcorn and red vines and watched the movie. At least he did, at first.

Sitting on his left, he was soon right next to me, his left hand once again massaging my neck and shoulders. He didn't ask, but I didn't object, so he didn't stop. It felt good and once again I felt my heart racing, my skin tingling. Soon, I was once again asking myself, "was I going to do this?"

That question soon answered itself. But I think by now, you already know the answer.

Owing in no small part to the nature of the film we were watching, the atmosphere was feeling very highly charged. My brain was spinning, but I simply ignored it. I decided I was just going to go with it, where ever it led.

About three quarters of the way into the movie, he made his move. Or at least, he responded to mine. He had eventually stopped massaging my neck and his arm was around my shoulders. During one particularly charged scene, I snuggled up into his crook and he began to run his fingers through my hair. I had goose bumps all up and down my arms.

This was so crazy! This wasn't my husband, yet it felt so good, and I knew my husband wouldn't mind so I was free to go through with it! I never dreamed I would ever really even be debating this. I mean, I had made out with a guy once a couple of years before, but that was it. Nothing else. I insisted to my husband that I was not going to have sex with another man, no matter how much he wanted me to. Yet, now here I was, in the arms of another and wanting more.

I suddenly felt his lips on my earlobe. My whole body shuddered and I let out a soft gasp, but didn't pull away. He continued on, nibbling, licking, and kissing my ear, cheek, and neck. I tilted my head to offer him more of my neck, emboldened, he began to kiss my neck more passionately. And then he moved up my chin to my lips, and he kissed me. Long and hard. I kissed him back. It felt amazing and I was tingling all over!

We quickly lost interest in the end of the movie, though we'd both seen it before, anyway. Brian had turned his full attention to me, and he had both arms around me and we were making out like school kids. He told me he was sorry, that he knew I was married but he thought I was so beautiful and he really wanted me. I told him to shut up, not to mention that any more, and to keep kissing me. And that was the last time my marriage was mentioned that afternoon.

Now that I had decided to let go and go for it, I decided that I was going to enjoy it. Fuck it, if he really wanted me to, then I'll be dammed if I was just going to lay there and just let it happen. I was going to have an amazing time with Brian, no matter whether my husband liked it or not. This was his doing, after all, though I knew that he would love it anyway. In fact, he long ago convinced me he would love it, no matter how strange I thought that might be. Somehow that made me feel safe, knowing I wasn't doing anything that he didn't want, though I had my doubts on how I'd feel about it later (but I decided I'd worry about that later).

I felt his right hand cup my left breast and not only did I not pull away, I pushed my body closer to him, reveling in his touch. Wanting to feel more. I knew at that moment, I was not going to stop Brian. I was not going to stop myself. I was going to do what my husband has always wanted me to do. I was going to fuck another man and then tell him all about it later... for Christmas!

I enjoyed the way he kissed me. It was better than the other guy I had kissed, but that guy had been much younger than me, a 23-year old Samoan college football player. My husband had been so upset that I hadn't done more with him; that I hadn't slept with him. Not that he hadn't been extremely turned on by what I had done. I'll never forget the look on his face, how excited he looked, when I told him about that afterwards. How passionately he fucked me that night. How turned on it had made him. I knew this was going to just simply blow his mind. I only hoped he could control himself afterwards, accept what I'd done, be grateful for it, and never expect it ever again. This was going to be a one-time deal. One very hot, one time deal.

It was then that I felt his hand slide underneath my blouse and begin to make its way up to my breast, pinching my nipple through the thin fabric. Tingles shot up and down my spine feeling him pinch my big, rock hard, pink nipples. After my ass, my nipples are my husband's favorite part of my body, and all I could think about at that moment was how good it felt to feel Brian touching them, and wishing he'd hurry up and get me completely naked. I had my arms around him too now, my arm under his shirt rubbing his back, when I took the initiative and made clear that I was all in for whatever he wanted to do with the rest of our afternoon together. I began to lift his shirt up and then off of him, and then, sliding back away from him, I raised my own blouse up and off. Then I stood up, facing away from him, unbuttoned my pants and lowered them slowly to the floor, smiling over my shoulder at him as I did so.

"Holy shit!" he said, "You've got an amazing ass!" That made me giggle. I turned around and faced him, and his eyes were drawn immediately to my translucent bra, and my hard nipples poking through it.

He pulled me towards him and began to kiss my belly, his hands grabbing and cupping my ass cheeks. It felt so exciting to be standing there, in nothing but my bra and panties, being held in Brian's arms as he kissed my stomach. He slid off the couch and on to the floor as he continued to lay soft kisses up and down my tummy, then down my left leg, and slowly back up the right. Without thinking I spread my legs apart and I gasped, and shuddered, when I felt his lips kissing my pussy through the fabric of my very wet panties.

Following his gentle urging, I lay back down on the couch, again spreading my legs for him and looking at him invitingly. Sliding an arm under each of my legs, he crawled between my legs, once again kissing his way up my thigh. I felt his tongue touch my clit through my panties. I gasped even louder. I felt his lips press against me. I moaned, ran my hand through his hair, and pressed my pussy into his face. I was going nuts, I wanted it so bad.

"Please Brian... God please eat my pussy!" I moaned softly at him. I wanted to feel him slide his tongue inside me so badly now. His touch was making me crazy, it felt so incredible.

Still tonguing my clit through my panties, I felt him grab the waistband at each hip and tug them down. I lifted my ass, anxious to be rid of them, and then as he tossed them aside, I asked him to take off his pants. I removed my own bra as he stood up in front of me and lowered first his pants, then his tight, boxer briefs. The bulge underneath his briefs turned out to be as impressive as a girl could've hoped for. Probably a couple of inches longer than my husbands, and at least as thick. I had a strong urge to suck him off right then and there and as I looked at him, without even thinking, I slid a finger down into my own wet, shaved pussy. I couldn't believe how wet I was!

I began to masturbate myself for him. He watched me for several minutes, transfixed as I played with my throbbing clit, stroking his own 8-inch rock hard cock. It felt so sexual, so naughty, so exciting. The way he was looking at me had me so turned on. And it was obvious by the look on his face, not to mention the enormous erection he was sporting, that I was turning him on too. Knowing I turned my husband on was one thing, but I was thoroughly enjoying knowing I was turning Brian on. It made me feel so sexy. I'd never felt like this before.

"Please," I pleaded with him, "please eat my pussy. I'm so fucking wet and I need it so bad! Oh my God, see? Look how wet you've made me!" I held up my glistening fingers to show him.

With that, he immediately dropped to his knees and buried his face in my aching, throbbing pussy. Fuck it felt amazing! It was quickly apparent that he knew very well how to satisfy a woman orally. He might have even been better than my husband, to be honest. But it could have just been me lost in the moment, I'm not sure. What I do know is that for the next 20 minutes (it seemed much longer; I was surprised when I glanced at the clock later), Brian made my pussy feel incredibly amazing! His tongue was magic and he seemed to know just the perfect way to use it. He even seemed to be able to read my thoughts, knowing exactly when to speed up, when to slow down, when to go hard, when to relax a bit... He used his fingers, too, but didn't overuse them.

The resulting climax was one of the hardest I've ever felt in my life, and it was much harder than I would've ever guessed another man could make me cum. My head was absolutely spinning and my legs were trembling. There was no going back at this point, I'd definitely crossed the line of no return.

It took me several minutes to recover from that mind blowing orgasm, but Brian was very patient with me, sitting on the other end of the couch from me, rubbing my feet. He didn't rub my feet quite as well as my husband does, but it still felt pretty good and made the moment feel even sexier. Eventually, when I'd regained my strength, I sat up and slid off the couch and on to my knees in front of him. He was still sporting a serious erection and I have to say I thought his cock looked quite delicious. I decided to take my time and explore this beautiful cock for a bit. I was sure my hubby would've wanted me too, after all. I knew he'd love it if I could describe it in great detail to him, later. He he he... the thought made my pussy tingle.

I reached out and took hold of him and he gasped and shuddered himself, as I touched him. I squeezed it gently, though he was extremely stiff, and a little dab of pre-cum ooze out of the tip. I looked up at him, giving him my sexiest, bad girl look and leaned forward to lap up the tip of his oozing cock with my tongue, never taking my eyes away from his. I was relishing the look on his face and watching him watch me only made my own pussy throb even harder. I backed away, and stroked him slowly, looking closely at his cock, examining it, admiring it. It felt so good in my hand; it was so damn hard.

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