My Wife's Costume Romp Ch. 01

Adrian was the most conventionally handsome of the three. He was tall (at least six-foot-three) blond, and well built. If he'd been a student at a regular college, the football coach would've surely recruited him. I asked him straight out if he was heterosexual and he answered that he was. He didn't seem defensive; he said this matter-of-factly. He said he'd modeled before, but it had been a few years earlier when he was a teenager. He volunteered that he was pretty active sexually. But he said he always wore condoms and that his partners were conscientious about avoiding STDs.

The other handsome guy, Vince, was slender, red-headed, and had a well-trimmed beard. He was married, he said, and he definitely didn't want his wife to find out he was involved in an erotic art project. He was drawn to it because it was "something different." He was a painter.

Finally, Nancy introduced herself. Seemingly self-conscious, she gave an abbreviated version of the wife-desperate-for-money story. Working part-time at the art gallery, she said, wasn't bringing in enough money. She was reluctant to accept my offer to pose for such an extreme project. She did, though, so here she was.

I then talked to the four of them about what I expected. I told them honestly that the part of the project they were involved in amounted to pornography. They didn't object. How could they, considering the tasty female morsel, my adorable wife, sitting right in front of them?

Karsten repeated what he'd told Nancy earlier -- that his drag-queen friend could help with male costumes. They wouldn't be strictly eighteenth century, but the frilly shirts and short, tight pants he had might look Hogarthian enough. His friend also said he could scrape together a few wigs for us. I assured him that the costumes didn't really need to be entirely accurate. They merely had to suggest the period I was after. I'd alter them later using Hogarth as a reference.

Then, as the guys and I downed several beers and Nancy had two glasses of wine, we talked about a number of things, including scheduling the sessions. It was agreed that the five of us would meet on two, possibly three, Wednesday evenings, starting on the coming Wednesday, at 7:00 p.m. We'd have to finish each session by about 9:30, said Nancy, because her husband expected her home by around 10:00 p.m.

We ended the planning meeting at about 9:30. I told the guys I had to drive Nancy home, so they wasted no time in leaving. Vince, in whose car Gil and Adrian had arrived, offered Karsten a ride home. As Nancy and I walked to our car, we watched the four of them drive away. Just for appearances (to underscore the idea that Nancy didn't live here), I drove Nancy to a neighborhood bar where we had a drink together and discussed what had just happened.

Nancy was a little perplexed. "It was weird talking to these guys about the project as though we were planning a garden party. I mean, you mentioned that this was basically porn. None of them seemed to want to talk about it, though."

"But they're artists, too," I answered. "They want to fuck you, but they want to do it with class. Art is a pretext, of course, but it's still interesting to them at some level."

I changed the subject slightly. "What did you think of them? Do you think you'll have a good time with them or is it going to be a chore?"

"Adrian is really hot, I think. He might be, uh, special. Vince and Karsten will be OK. So will Gil, I guess. He's not bad really looking even if he's sort of creepy."

Sitting in the bar talking to my beautiful wife about other guys fucking her got us both aroused. When we got home, we went immediately to bed, where Nancy sucked my cock until I came in her mouth.

Then (to punish me for my evil thoughts about her, she said) she sat on my face for almost ten minutes while, half smothered, I ate her cunt. She began this face-sitting (something we'd never done before) as a joke, but soon she achieved a rather loud orgasm.