When the men came in, I wasn’t surprised to see my husband first noticed Lauren’s breasts. Dele introduced my husband to the other wives while my husband’s face went beet red again as he stared first at Lauren’s breasts (which I didn’t blame him for as they were literally impossible to miss) and then at the complete beauty of Susan.
Dele played host and even joked, as he introduced Susan, “And this lovely lady is Susan, and she is the boss of her house.”
” Hey, that’s only 95 percent true,” Carl protested.
“98 percent,” Susan corrected, although I imagined it was likely 99 percent.
My husband, trying at least to be a good husband, walked over to me and kissed me.
He looked at me perplexed, as he noticed I was wearing nylons now. He asked, after a quick kiss, “Um, you brought nylons with you?”
“You like?” I asked, lifting my knee up to let him touch the sheer silk.
He put his hand on my knee and he said, impressed, “WOW, they’re super soft and sheer.”
“We ended up talking about hosiery and how some brands are better than others. One thing led to another and Janna insisted I try these on,” I explained, realizing just how weird it was that I was now wearing nylons.
“Well, I approve,” he said, sliding his hand under my skirt.
I slapped it away and teased in a sultry voice, “Be a good boy and you’ll get to feel these on Peter.”
“I’m all in,” he said, ‘Peter’being our nickname for his cock.
“You certainly will be,” I promised, as I gave his cock a quick squeeze, not at all surprised to feel it was completely hard.
We had dinner as a group, chatted about everything, and I drank quite a bit… not getting drunk, but a little more than tipsy… which always makes me extra frisky.
The women did the dishes while the men went to watch baseball… some things never change.
We chatted some more and I felt like I’ d known these three forever. We talked movies: agreeing we would all fuck Hugh Jackman in a heartbeat; we talked music and learned all of us loved the eighties and all of us had been to a New Kids on the Block concert.
Susan and Lauren both left before I did, and Janna returned the conversation to sex.
“How often do you and Ken fuck?”
“That’s a pretty personal question,” I said, surprised by her bluntness.
“Dele and I fuck almost every day in some form or another,” she said.
“There are different forms?” I asked, a little confused by her words and yet intrigued. I couldn’t explain it, but everything about Janna intrigued me.
“Definitely,” she said with a nod.
“How so?” I asked.
“Can I be completely honest with you?” she asked.
” You haven’t been up until now?” I joked.
“Touché,” she laughed. “I’m not one for beating around the bush.”
I joked, somehow feeling comfortable saying something sexually charged, “Yes, I hear you ‘d rather eat it.”
She roared with laughter.”I knew I liked you.” She then said, “Although I prefer a great plain if you know what I mean.”
I did. I said, for some reason, “I trim.”
“You’ve never had a Brazilian?” she asked, her face one of shock.
“No, I don’t like pain,” I said, the idea of someone down there yanking out follicles not at all appealing to me.
She grabbed her phone and said, “Well, we can’t have that.”
“Have what?” I asked, as she called someone.
She actually shushed me. .. I despised being shushed (my father doing that to me and my mother all the time when I was a kid) as she spoke on the phone. “June, I need an emergency Brazilian.”
My eyes went wide. Was she booking me a Brazilian?
“No, not for me,” she laughed. “I just saw you three days ago. It’s for a friend.”
Yep, she was. I was both bewildered by her take control attitude and also impressed.
She looked at me after a minute and asked, “Can you do seven tomorrow night?”
“Um, yeah,” I answered. After I did, I wondered why I’d agreed so quickly.
“Yes, book it,” Janna said into the phone. She then added, “Her name is Christine.” After another moment she finished, “You’re a sweetheart.”
She put her phone down and said, “Done.”
“Did you just book me a Brazilian ?” I asked, even though it was pretty obvious she’d done just that
Yep,” she nods. “That’s what friends are for.”
I laughed, “I don’t recall seeing that in the manual.”
“You need to read between the legs,” she responded wickedly.
“Okay,” I said, not responding to the sexual implication. “But to be honest, I’m not sure I want one.”
“It’s not about want, it’s about need,” she said, finishing her wine.
“Okay, I’m not sure I need one,” I corrected.
“Trust me, you do,” she said. “You’ll feel like a new woman.”
“If you say so,” I said, sensing that as a lawyer she didn’t lose arguments too often.
She got some more wine for both of us and then she shocked me once more. She asked me , “Have you ever swung?”
“On a swing?” I joked, even though I was pretty sure I knew what she meant.
“Well, some parties do indeed have a swing,” she smiled.
“No,” I answered .
“That’s not why we invited you here today, although I definitely wouldn’t be against it,” she said. “You and Ken are a very attractive couple.”
“Um, thanks,” I said, the conversation suddenly awkward… yet also interesting.
“Sorry, if I’m being forward,” she said. “It’s just….” she began and paused.
“It’s just what?” I asked.
“Never mind,” she said.
“What?” I asked again, wanting to know.
She said, “Sorry, I’ve said too much.”
“Janna, tell me,” I demanded.
“It’s just that… you two look like you need a spark,” she said.
“Why do you say that?” I asked, our sex life pretty good overall.
“Just a hunch,” she said.
She then asked another blunt question, “How many men have you slept with?”
I paused. I really didn’tt need to tell her this, but I did. Trying to keep the conversation light, I answered, “More than one, fewer than three.”
“Hundred?” she asked.
I laughed, before admitting, “No, just two.”
“Oh my,” she said, as if this was unbelievable and kind of sad.
“What?” I asked, never feeling like I’ d missed anything by fucking just two guys… both being long term relationships.
“How many girls?” she asked.
“Two less than that,” I answered.
“You’re lucky to have met me,” she said, as if she was my personal, but much hotter, Dr. Ruth.
“Why is that?” I asked.
“Because you need to explore,” she said, as she leaned over and kissed me.
I was stunned.
This married, beautiful woman was kissing me.
While our husbands were downstairs, very likely not kissing.
Obviously I should have pushed her away.
Yet, maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the conversation. Or maybe it was her incredibly soft lips. So I didn’t push her away, I kissed her back.
And for a couple of minutes I willingly kissed another woman.
It felt so natural, so sensual, and completely different from kissing a man.
When she broke the kiss she said, “You’re a very beautiful woman, Christine.”
“Thank you,” I replied, a chill going up my spine as I sat there dazed and confused.
“I hope I’m not being too forward,” she said.
“Oh, that was pretty forward,” I smiled.
“Oh, trust me, this is me going slow,” she said.
“Oh my,” I said, so many mixed emotions inside me.
Her bluntness continued as she asked, “Any chance your other cock was black?”
“No,” I said, although I’d be lying if I hadn’t on occasion wondered what it would be like to fuck a black man… I mean all women at some point wonder about the great black myth.
“Ever fantasize about it?” She asked.
“I plead the fifth,” I joked, answering the question without actually answering the question.
She laughed, “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
Her tone and smile had me asking . “You’re not fucking one right now, are you?”
“Sadly, no,” she sighed.
I was about to speak when she added, “but I will be tomorrow.”
“What?” I asked.
“I have a convict I see every week,” she said.
“You fuck a convict?” I asked, thinking that was pretty morally wrong.
“More often than not he just fucks my face,” she bluntly said.
“Oh my God!” I gasped.
“I scream that phrase a lot when he does fuck me,” she continued, clearly enjoying my shock reactions.
“What about Dele?” I asked.
“Sometimes he watches,” she answered rather matter-of-factly, as if that wasn’t absolutely strange.
“Really?” I asked, every answer she gave me creating more questions, not less.
“Remember we’re swingers,” she reminded me.
“I just assumed those were wild orgies,” I said, wondering if I could ever do such a thing. Would I even want to? The wetness in my panties at the moment said perhaps I did.
“We’ve been to a few of those,” she nods. “But the truth is that Dele is my cuckold.”
“What’s that?”I asked, a word I’d never heard before.
“You know how you have Ken whipped?”
I smiled, “For the most part.”
“Except in the bedroom, right?”
“Yeah, but why do you assume that?” I asked.
“You’re a natural submissive,” she said.
“How so?” I asked, although in the bedroom it was mostly true.
“You like to please,” she said. “You actually need to please.”
“How do you know that?”
“I read people,” she answered. “Plus, the fact you didn’t break away from our kiss confirmed my observations.”
“I was surprised,” I defended my action.
“At first you were,” she agreed, “but then you kissed back.”
“It felt so soft ,” I explained.