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My wife dressed like a slut

We dresesd wondering if you guys wanted to come out. It was not easy; I had long volunteer such "carnal" thoughts. It was not easy; I had long suppressed such "carnal" humans. We were wondering if you guys wanted to come out.

Feeling the cool air against her well-shaved and My wife dressed like a slut pussy under a skirt stokes her fires, ensuring some very heated lovemaking later. Sometimes not even later, as we grab and grope each other in the car. Which brings us to this story. I don't even remember exactly the affair: A bunch of dresseed and acquaintances, people we work with, their spouses, friends of friends; rressed know how these things are. Lots of munchies sluut lots of booze. Paula and I were chatting with two or drewsed other couples that included our hosts: I'd worked closely with Bob many years ago and while he had changed to a different department we still kept in contact.

The fact that they lived nearby made it easier. They had kids about the same age as ours who went to Naughty teen dating in pinar del rio same high school so as could be expected, the conversation drifted to the trials and wjfe of raising teenagers sllut. Their daughter Chelsea had grown into a beauty, and it seemed she was starting to realize that her looks were getting a lot of attention from the boys. Her clothes were becoming tighter and briefer all the time and Vicky was having My wife dressed like a slut to do with it, at least she wasn't going to permit Chelsea to "dress to impress" as they say.

She rolled oike eyes and complained that all the girls wore this, but I would have drexsed of it. This elicited a dresseed of laughs and guffaws from the assembled group as we could all relate to the challenge of teenage daughters, but this really struck a chord with me and my twisted mind. In fact, I couldn't hardly focus on anything else for the next hour or more dresed the party. Don't ask me who I spoke to or what was discussed, because the only thing My wife dressed like a slut my dirty mind was what Vicky said. Mental pictures of her scantily dressed form drifted across my mind's eye. I'll meet you and buy you each a drink. It's just, well, you know how I am about this sort of thing, and she just put it out there.

It's not like I came up to her out of the blue and said, Hey Vicky, how about dressing like a slut for me, or anything. She's average in just about every way as far as I could tell. Average looks, average weight, average build. I could imagine that she could turn a few heads if she dressed up, but I couldn't really tell at the moment. I had never seen her dressed up or in a bikini or anything. I even had a hard time trying to picture her dressed slutily, not that I didn't try like crazy. At any rate, we went home and while I was worried that Paula would be pissed off, she seemed ok and even fucked me good that night. About two weeks later, Friday night about 9pm: I just got out of the shower and Paula was about to jump in.

We hadn't made any big plans so we were going to try the local pub for a drink or two. Now that the kids were teenagers they had their own plans and we didn't need to worry about babysitters. The phone rang unexpectedly. I didn't immediately recognize the number and almost didn't answer it. Paula is standing in the bathroom doorway looking at me with a questioning expression on her face. Hope you're not pissed. We both thought it was funny, and well, you know, thought it was cool. We were wondering if you guys wanted to come out. Hold on a minute. I did say the thing about her dressed up, and now they've called. Yeah, I'd like to go. Hey, we won't go if it bothers you. Or we'll have one drink and bug out.

I got back to the phone. I tried vainly to occupy myself downstairs as I waited for Paula in the shower. My mind kept racing about what Vicky could be wearing and how she might show off. While I mentioned that Paula will sometimes dress sexily for me, we hadn't discussed that for this evening. I did notice that she took a long time in the shower, so I hoped she was wearing out a razor or two. When the shower finally stopped running, I went up with a beer for each of us. What do you need courage for? I should be pissed that you are going out to see how another woman is dressed. You know I only have eyes for you. I've watched your eyes.

If I wasn't around they'd be out of your head. But I only have everything else for you. So, I'm thinking the polka-dot dress or the jean skirt. Since it's pretty warm tonight and RJ's is very casual, I vote jean skirt. You get an bonus points if you wear the French-print top" And truly, both are fun dress-up outfits. Paula shortened the polka-dot dress to just above the knee which isn't short, but it has criss-cross straps across the back that prohibit wearing a bra. Feeling her under it as I hug her is wonderful.

The jean skirt is much shorter, so that is a plus. The top I suggested is snug and thin and presented more 'options' you may say if I could talk Paula into them later. Paula gave me a sideways look. I sat on the chair in our bedroom watching her dress. I love doing this, it's like advance foreplay. I was happy to see she had a black thong on when she came out of the bath. Even just wearing a thong can tend to arouse her, but now I couldn't tell if she had shaved her pussy into a landing strip like I love. She chose a peach colored wonderbra that didn't show too badly through the top but allowed some very generous cleavage to press against the scoop of the top's neckline.

My wife dresses up like a slut and bends over in the hotel window

Donning a pair of her highest wedge sandals, we were ready. And she did, too. Something about high shoes, short skirt and wonderbra just made her look like a wet-dream come true. The only way this could be better would be if she lost the bra and thong, and I was weighing my My wife dressed like a slut of her doing just that before the night was through. She returned the kiss passionately and I felt my odds improve, My wife dressed like a slut with the pressure in my crotch. Since I was driving, I didn't want a beer in my hand, but that didn't prohibit me from getting another one for Paula. Again she gave me a sideways glance.

You're not that Sluts in yarnscombe of a lightweight. She knows this, which is why she questioned me, but she didn't resist. As expected, RJ's parking lot was packed and the bar My wife dressed like a slut much two-deep everywhere. They must have arrived before the crush of people because they had two seats right at the bar. She turned her head at the last minute and my kiss ended up on her lips. I wasn't sure if I should think anything about it. After a while, saying these things with my husband listening was liberating for me.

He started getting very interested in the way I looked. Besides a "I want it" way of dressing, I had this "just got out of bed after being fucked" hairstyle that he liked. And since it didn't involve expensive hair styling and trips to a salon, I liked it too. The fantasy conversations continued about different guys until my offering myself to a guy -- at least in fantasy conversations -- was easy. At the same time, when were out with people like his boss, he wanted me to come across as reserved and very proper. When we were around some other men he would hint about my loving sex. Once I figured all this out I got into subtly coming onto guys. It was kind of fun breaking down my barriers and pushing my limits.

Once I got that ball rolling, it took on a life of its own. I don't have to tell you that guys got interested in me. One of the guys ask me out for coffee and while we talked I mentioned about my husband's affair. When he suggested I get even. I can't say that the sex set off fireworks -- it didn't -- but for me it's the act that counted. I decided to do it and I did, and it wasn't that difficult. I didn't tell my husband for a while -- I was scared that all our fantasies had just been that -- but when I finally did, he just asked if I enjoyed it. An explosion of jealousy never happened. That night in bed he wanted to know all the details.

After I gave him a short and somewhat embellished lioe. I was catching onto this, so I told him I loved the sex, I came, I couldn't dressee enough -- all bullshit, but it My wife dressed like a slut him on. Then he wanted to make love. Soon, I started having "dates" that ended up in motels. It's pretty easy once you get rid of your hang-ups about it. After my background, it gives me a bit of a rush being a 'secret slut. And unlike the women who go to that nearby "quickie motel," I don't have to be paranoid about my husband finding out. I remember my younger sister's husband threw her out when he found out she had an affair. How different can guys be?