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Texas Wife's First Threesome

The good thing about business travel is that I get the chance to meet new people constantly, many of them through SLS. The bad thing about business travel is that I go alone, without the woman who is my usual swing partner. Over the years, I’ve made contacts – couples and solo women -- in many cities who are always happy to see me again.
More times than I can count, I’ve had guys write me and say, “I’d really like to see my wife loosen up and fuck another guy while I watched. Any chance of you helping me pull this off?”
Well, yes and no. I do happen to have the knack of putting first-time women at ease. I meet people easily, and I can sense just how far to push a conversation viz a viz sex. If the woman is obviously unhappy about what her husband has in mind, and is going along just to please him, I see that as a clue to say a polite farewell and go about my business.
The account related below happened in a Dallas hotel some months back. We began by having drinks in the lounge of my hotel. The woman was nervous at first but a drink or so loosened her up, and she seemed taken by my casual descriptions of visiting nude resorts. I sensed that she was ready to consider going a bit further. In any event, she and her husband readily accepted my suggestion that we go up to my room for a night cap.
A note about the style of the account: The husband had asked me in advance just how I would go about persuading his wife to have sex with me in his presence. So I wrote him a letter outlining what could happen. Here goes:

That your wife has so readily agreed to go up to my room surprises you. To be sure, over the years you have expressed to her your curiosity as to what it would be like if the two of you decided to do something sexual with another couple, another man, perhaps even another woman. Her refusal even to talk about “doing such a thing” initially was emphatic, and seemingly final. But in the last half hour you’ve seen her get just a bit tipsy, talk about a nude beach with a man who was a total stranger until this evening, speculate out loud about how she might react to getting naked in the presence of strangers, and then letting my hand rest idly on her shoulder as we ride up in the elevator.
[What you will not learn until later, when I write another e-mail to you] is that the scenario played out in the Dallas hotel is one that I’ve honed over the years. To be sure, it is not always successful. But there is something about a hotel that tends to make women relax, and perhaps even feel a bit naughty. A bit of wine and some low-key sexual talk move things along nicely. Then the privacy of being in a hotel room with a stranger that she won’t have to see again, ever, unless she chooses to do so. Temptation. Relaxation. Privacy.]
My suite is high above Dallas, on the 28th floor. The dr*pes are open, and the view through the wide ceiling-to-floor window is magnificent, lights flickering below us. There is an elevated couch facing the window, providing almost theatrical seating for the view. “I discovered last night that it’s better with the lights out,” I say. “OK with y’all?” No objections, so I turn off the overhead light. Save for the ambient light coming into the room from the outside, the only illumination is from a small lamp in the adjacent bedroom. To be sure, we can see one another, but without any sharp detail – further relaxing Mrs. L.
As the two of you stand by the window, gazing out, I pop a bottle of white wine and pour us glasses and put them on a small table alongside the couch. I move over and stand behind your wife. She murmurs, “Magnificent! It’s like we are flying over the city in an airplane.”
“I’m glad you like it,” I respond. “And I’m glad that I had the chance to meet the two of you.” As if affirming my contentment, I put my hands on her shoulders, half-expecting her to shrug them off. She does not, so I leave them there. You glance over, and when you see that I m touching your wife, even so slightly, causes your cock to stir in your trousers.
We move to the couch, your wife between us. She shoves off her shoes and stretches her legs before her as I hand both of you glasses. We clink as I offer a toast, “To the L’s, new friends, and to good times.” We sip. “I’m also glad we met you,” your wife says. “And I hope you can bring K along the next time you come to Dallas. I’ve like to meet her as well.”
I laugh. “Well, winter is almost here,” I say, “which means it’s about St. Martin’s time. Why not meet us there and you can check out Orient Beach for yourselves?”
“I’m not sure I am ready for that – just yet,” your wife replies. “But who knows?”
I sense movement at your end of the couch, and I glance over to see that you have dr*ped your arm over your wife’s shoulders. The couch is so small that I am sitting literally hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder with her, and I am aroused by even the casual contact of our bodies. She is snuggling back against you, and I see your hand come over to stroke her cheek. She sighs. Then she giggles. “But I see one big problem if K was here tonight,” your wife says. “There’s no way that four of us would fit onto this couch!”
Her torso wiggles as if to emphasize her point. I raise up my arm as if to give her more space, and somehow it seems natural to let it come to rest around her shoulder. You choose this moment to touch her face, inviting her to give you a kiss. I watch as your mouths join, and my free hand moves over to stroke the other side of your wife’s face. She rubs approvingly, as if enjoying my slight caress.
As the two of you continue your tight kiss, I see your hand slide up to her bosom. The light is dim but you seem to be cupping one of her breasts. Her hand goes up, as if to brush away your touch, but she seemingly changes her mind in mid-course and decides instead to press it even tighter against her body. As she stirs my hand moves down from her cheek to her bare neck, and again there is no objection to my intrusion. I put my mouth close to her ear and whisper, “You are a fine lady, and I like very much sitting here with you in the dark....” She breaks off your kiss and turns towards me, whispering, “Me, too!” As she speaks your fingers undoing a button of her blouse, and your hand slides inside.
She begins to offer an objection – “Hey, we’ve got company, don’t.....” but I silence her by pulling her face over to me and kissing her square on the lips. I can feel her body tense with surprise: strange men simply do not kiss Mrs. L, not even in the quasi-darkness of a hotel room. Her lips are stiff and unyielding.
Oh oh, have I gone too far, too fast? Have I run into the proverbial brick wall?
Your fondling of her breast – you must be inside her bra by now, or close to it – saves the day. Your wife suddenly melts, her mouth opens, our tongues meet and swirl, and one of her hands moves up to behind my head and she pulls my face tighter against her’s.
It is time for me to push the envelope. I let the kiss continue for more than a minute, hearing her gasp with pleasure and excitement. You continue to work at the buttons of her blouse, which are snapping open one at a time as your hand goes deeper inside her bra. I take a hand off your wife’s face and move it down to the left side of her chest, finding and cupping the unattended breast.
This time it is your wife who breaks the kiss. She is almost panting with excitement as she says, “Joe, Arch, I really should not be doing this. Have I gone crazy?”
I put the tips of my fingers on her chin. “Mrs. L, you are a very appealing lady, and I would go so far as to say that you are definitely a very sexy lady. Just relax and enjoy, and anytime you decide to say, ‘enough guys, no more,’ I’ll leave you be. Now I can’t speak for your husband....”
Who, I note, is now slipping the top of the blouse over her shoulder. She signals her acceptance of my promise by giving her mouth back to me, implicitly encouraging me to resume my exploration of the breast allotted to me.
My work is made all the easier as you unsnap her bra and help me maneuver her blouse off her body. I toss it over onto a chair. Your wife is now naked from the waist up, pert pretty breasts clearly visible in the light streaming through the window. “They are so little,” your wife says, “I am embarrassed. I bet your K has much bigger boobs, doesn’t she? And that is why she is OK with going to the nude beach....”
“Your breasts are fine, Mrs. L,” I say. I move my hand away so that I can gaze directly down on them. She thrusts out her chest, as if to put them on proud display. Then modesty grabs hold of her and she attempts to cover them with her hands. I shove her hands away. “Far too pretty to hide,” I said, evoking a giggle from your wife. But she now leaves them unshielded, as if happy to put them on display for your and this strange man.
My head lowers, and you watch me kiss and lick your wife’s nipples, each in turn. She thrusts her face at you. She demands to be kissed again, by you, her husband, to assure her that what she is doing with this stranger meets your approval.
As the two of you kiss, your hand now moves to her legs, and you start the inch-by-inch grope under her skirt toward her V. Your wife now is yielding to animal excitement: she knows the possible end game that we have in mind for her, and she is not ready to object. And indeed, she helps you by spreading her legs a bit wider as she feels your hand on her upper thigh, nearing her pussy. All this I can see by glancing down. My cock is throbbing hard. As yet your wife’s writhing about on the couch has not brought it into contact with her body, but such is a matter of time.
Your wife’s moan and a sudden lurch of her body tells me that your hand has reached her pussy. Her skirt is hiked up high enough that I can see your fingers probing at the crotch of her panties. My hand goes down to help, and I slide a finger under the fabric to find soft wet flesh covered by a shield of pubic hair. Now my finger touches the cleft, spreads the cleft, goes inside the cleft. Your wife makes a sound of utter delight: “Ahhhhh, yes, good, ohhhhhhhh yes!” You take one side of her panties, me the other, and we hastily slip them down her legs and away. And she rises her bottom off the couch so that we can remove her skirt as well.
My hand goes back to your wife’s pussy and I commence finger fucking her again. Your hand comes down and presses mine even tighter into her V. “Go ahead, Arch, I think there’s room for both of us in her sweet little pussy....” So I feel one of your fingers slide in alongside mine and now we are fingering her in unison, to her absolute moaning delight.
“Mrs. L,” I whisper, “I think it’s time we went into the bedroom. Are you ready?” She cannot give an intelligible answer. She simply moans. And when I arise and offer her a hand, she takes it and stands up.







End of Story