Green Light for a Hot Wife

I walked to the bar with a primness that would make Emily Post proud. I figured that if I was going to be a flirt I'd build a little tension first. It took no more than a second and all eyes were back on me.

Once I reached the bar it was time to unleash the slut. I assumed a stance with those fuck-me heels spread past shoulder width and canted my hips at a suggestive angel. Just thinking about my dirty little game makes my nipples harden noticeably.

I smile at Wade and he looks amused watching my little show. For the second time that day I Look Wade up and down, let my eyes rest on his prominent package, and lick my lips suggestively.

Wade, gives a bemused chuckle and shakes his head as if to say that he's seen this act before. I'm a little taken aback that my show is falling flat.

"Are you that girl Audrey?"

My blank expression tells him that I don't understand the question.

He presses on, "are you that white girl that come into my bar and teases the black man in order to get your rocks off? Spice things up for you and the Mister when you have your anniversary sex later?"

"Damn, where's that coming from" I wonder to myself.

"No" I say defensively, "that's not it at all."

I abandon my sexy posture but with my arms crossed under my titties I still manage to show my rack off prominently and with my ankles together and bent slightly forward so that we can speak across the bar my ass and legs are eye candy for all the bar patrons.

At least my nipples have receded with this weird wrinkle in the conversation

Wade doesn't stop, "well if that's not it I can only think of one or two other possibilities."

I knew that it was bait but I couldn't resist, "and what would those be?" I asked.

Wade bent over the bar to close the distance between us so as to not be overheard.

"Well" he said, "do you mind if I speak bluntly Audrey? I don't want to upset a beautiful lady like you."

I glance over my shoulder at Dave. He's watching, but his look betrays nothing about his thinking. I lean closer to Wade interested to hear what he has to say. He deals with a lot of woman in various stages of shedding their inhibitions so he's likely to have a unique perspective.

"Sure, go ahead" I say.

"Well Audrey, if, as you say, this is not about simply spicing things up between you and the mister then either you are looking to get some action on the side..." I'm shaking my head no before he even finishes his thought.

"Wait, let me finish ...or...OR, you are one of those swinging or cuckold couples and your husband gets his rocks off watching his wife getting some jungle love."

His reference to jungle love almost made me snort it sounded so ridiculous. But as I considered his comment my body grew flush, my nipples hardened, and suddenly there was a thin sheen of perspiration.

"No!" I said two octaves above my normal voice, way too loud, and entirely unconvincing.

I didn't know how to describe this thing I was engaged in, I'm not even sure I'm engaged in a "thing" But I knew that Wade's comment was off the mark and it annoyed me that he was questioning my motives. Or maybe I was just mad that he'd busted me?

Wade was smiling broadly, sure that he had nailed it. "It's ok, I see it all the time, and between me and you, I make those dreams come true all the time," he said looking every bit like the cat that ate the canary.

That went too far for me, "First of all, my husband and I are not swingers. Second, using the phrase jungle love is just ridiculous. Finally, if I was looking for something on the side it wouldn't be with a man-whore!"

I start to leave but then realize I have more to say. "And one more thing, my husband gets off just fine without your help! If my husband enjoys watching his sexy wife have ... if he wants to see... if we... fuck it!" I walk off in a huff.

Before returning to my husband I went to the ladies room to collect myself. I was angry at myself for thinking a flirtatious bartender would have some Zen like wisdom regarding female sexuality.

I smiled recalling that I called the bartender a man whore. Nice! Maybe I was too hard on him, after all, this thing my hubby and I are into, whatever it is, might look like some seedy swinger couple from the outside.

I look in the mirror, "who's being judgmental now?"

The thing is, I'm not even sure what it is that we are supposedly into. I'm not sure what my husband wants from me.

I take a deep breath, smile at the sexy lady in the mirror, and remind myself that the only pressure on me is this damn curiosity that seems to keep poking it's head up since Dave made that green-light comment. I was just flirting with him and he upsets the apple cart with the green-light bullshit.

I convince myself that the thing to do is go take Dave back to the room and fuck his brains out, "That's what we always do, and its always satisfying, so get your husband and get this hotwife nonsense out of your head."

That thought calmed me. "Why does Dave put that stuff in my head " I ask myself.

As I headed back outside I knew that Dave would be curious about the interaction at the bar. He is extremely observant. He sometimes reminds me that his employer pays him big dollars for those skills. He would have seen that I was agitated but I really don't feel like getting into the particulars.

As I approach the pool area I notice that the crowd has practically doubled and there are a lot of new faces. My mind is on what I'm going to tell Dave about my interaction with the bartender as I weave my way through a group of the newly arrived patrons.

They parted naturally as I made my way to my seat, but as I stepped closer there was a young man engaged in conversation that did not see me approach. He was young, tall and athletic with a close cropped haircut. He excused himself politely and stepped back.

It was still a tight fit and just as I put my back to him in order to squeeze by. The young men to my front started jostling with each other and I was pushed into the hunk to my rear.

I knew without looking that Dave would be watching all of this. In front of me a gorgeous young black man with the body of Adonis. The guy to my rear could have been a swimsuit model. Squashed between these two hunks I pressed back against the young man to my rear. My ass pressed firmly into his prominent package. He didn't yield an inch. It was like pushing against a brick wall with a hand rail.

In my efforts to right my balance I grabbed the hips of the hunk in front of me. That caused him to turn suddenly and I found myself with my titties pressed into his abdomen as I gazed into a massive flat chest that seemed to block out the sun it was so broad.

"Wow," I thought, "if this is what it's like being sandwiched between two guys, I want it. I could feel the brick wall package pressed against my ass stirring. I looked to my right and Dave watching with an amused grin. I knew he'd jokingly accuse me of arranging this scrum.

And just as quickly as the sandwich formed the crowd parted, the guys stepped back, and the young men were profusely apologizing. I was flushed and my nipples were rock hard. Both of these sweet young guys were staring at my breasts.

I took advantage of the situation to use a line that I'd always wanted to use, "my eyes are up here boys." For the briefest of moments they were horrified until I started cracking up.

"Please ma'am" the swim suit model implored, "my name is Mark, let us buy you a drink. We'll bring it to your table."

"What about my husband," I pouted. I pointed to Dave. "The bartender knows what we're drinking."

"Done," Mark promised and hurried to the bar.

I told Dave that the two young men would be delivering our drinks. I was excited thinking about it and my pussy was still tingling from our unexpected close encounter. Dave ribbed me, in a good natured way, about setting a trap for those unsuspecting young men.

Dave likes to compare me to Little Annie Fanny, Harvey Kurtzman's iconic Playboy comic strip character. Kurtzman's statuesque, buxom young blonde found herself naked in risqué situations in every episode. Truthfully, I've always liked the comparison.

Mark delivered our drinks as promised. Dave stood and shook Mark's hand and invited the handsome young man to join us. Invitation accepted, Mark explained that his friend Vernon sent his regrets as he was unable join us. It seems Vernon had to return to their hotel to meet some friends.

I was sitting in such a way that Mark had an inviting view of my legs right up to my bikini that barely covered my pussy. I kept shifting in my seat, on the pretext of getting comfortable, and managed to give Mark plenty to look at.

Dave was being genuinely friendly and didn't seem threatened in the least by Mark's presence, even though the young man couldn't seem to look away from the show I was giving him.

As it turned out, Mark was enjoying an end of summer romp with some classmates from the Naval Academy. They were enjoying their last freedom before reporting back for their senior year in Annapolis. That explained the chiseled frames, military haircuts, and polite charm of Mark and his group.

They had a large suite at the Plim Plaza on the Boardwalk so they could party all weekend. He invited us join them but he voiced his concern that I might be the only woman there.

"We invited some ladies but you know how that goes. It might be a bit of a sausage party...," he said, immediately blushing at his off-color comment. Before Mark could say another word I jumped in and said, "Oh, I'm part German, I love sausage parties." We all had a good laugh at that.

Mark seemed torn between watching my legs and returning to his friends as he excused himself. This poised young man seemed to be at a loss for words as he stammered a final plea for us to join the party back at the midshipmen's suite, "Sir ...ma'am, I really hope you will join us."

He was so cute I was smitten. I could have just eaten him up on the spot.

As Mark and his friends headed out the door and down the boardwalk I said to Dave, "They seem like a nice enough bunch of Navy boys."

"Is the Fräulein telling me she wants to join the sausage party?" Dave asked.

"Yes... yes I do" I said with a certainty that in no way matched my internal dialogue.

An hour earlier I was ready to banish all this hotwife business once and for all. I am a girl that likes to make plans and then stick with the plan. The plan was to take my husband up to our room for hot hotel sex. A sure fire plan that had worked for us many times.

It suddenly occurred to me that Dave and I made love for the first time in a suite at Plim Plaza. That was some of the hottest sex ever, "Oh my God," I thought, "what if it's the same suite those boys are in?"

"Baby, if you want to go what are we waiting for?" Dave offered. Besides, it's a Navy sausage party so I'm the one they'll be hitting on," he said with a wink.

"Oh really?" was my deadpan response.

"That's just Army humor babe, I'm real clear who they'll be hitting on." , Dave said with a warm smile.

And just like that we were up from the table and heading upstairs for a change of clothes.

As I walked off I had the presence of mind to roll my hips and shake my ass. I wanted Wade to get a good look. A glance back over my shoulder confirmed that he was indeed taking in an eyeful.

Up in the room I freshened my hair and makeup. I'm deliberate in pushing the thought from my mind but there is no denying that my pussy is tingling. Dave comes trolling around as he is prone to do in these moments.

There's something about me standing naked before a sink applying lip stick that makes him think I want to have sex. I shoo him off.

I slipped on a sliver of a thong covered by my short white mini. Up top, a creamy white lace halter. The 5 inch fuck-me heeled sandals complete the outfit.

And like that we are out the door. -- To be continued in Part II...