It was just one of those lazy weekend days. A nice
drive in the country with the top down, a picnic in
the park complete with a fine bottle of wine and then
over to the mall for a little window shopping.
Carla was dressed in an old pair of baggy faded sweats,
sneakers and a baseball cap with her brown hair pony-
tailed through the back of the hat. This 28-year-old
looked more like a college freshman ready for softball
practice than a well-educated, mostly proper, but some-
times radically improper suburban wife.
But even in this somewhat unflattering outfit, Carla
managed to draw a few stares of admiration. She has
such a wonderful little butt that even baggy pants
don’t seem to cover the lines or movements of her
well-formed cheeks on her 105-pound frame.
Her face always seems to have this “I know something
you don’t” expression and her full lips and big brown
eyes alone can make most men hard.
I love when she tries on clothes in unisex shops.
There’s one store where there isn’t much that separates
the female stalls from the male stalls. There’s an open
entranceway on the wall in back of the store. Once in
there, you can go left to the women’s dressing rooms,
or right to the men’s. They are all kind of together
and if you miss the sign, a woman could end up on the
men’s side of dressing room row.
Of course I always direct Carla to the wrong end and
she, willingly and playfully abides. She’s “accident-
ly” left the door ajar many times.
She lets her panties fall to the floor in sight and to
the surprise of whomever is in the next stall. She’s
even masturbated in there. It’s just one of our more
routine fun things we do a couple times a month. I am
not sure of what the reaction has been from guys in
the dressing room, but I am sure they were pleased.
On the way out of the mall, we saw from a distance the
security guy who Carla had once gotten off in the park-
ing lot. It brought up some real hot memories for both
of us.
As we walked to our car I saw a well-dressed distin-
guished looking man — perhaps 60 — waiting on a bench
near our car kind of peeping out from his Wall Street
Journal at passersby.
Between Carla’s little antics in the dressing room and
the memories of this parking lot, I decided to just
grab her and started kissing. I rested my back up
against the car as she leaned against me.
I opened one eye to peer at the man and saw him zeroed
in on us with envy. Carla’s sweat pants were so baggy
that he couldn’t get the full appreciation of my wife’s
wonderful rear assets even though he was just about 20
feet away.
So I pulled the material up tight to better define her
cheeks and crack and looked at him again. He had a
slight grin of approval spreading on his face.
Then I slipped my hand inside the back of her sweats
and pushed them down exposing the top third of her ass
while I worked my fingertips in her crack. It was just
one of those typical acts that we enjoy and that some-
times escalates to much more. But this time we just got
in the car and left.
Yet the bug had already bitten both of us and if the
opportunity presented itself anytime soon, I was de-
finitely in the mood to see Carla get someone off.
There was something emerging as so sexy in the way she
was dressed in these rags. She said she loved the com-
fort they gave her.
We got home around 5 p.m., and we made love immediate-
ly. When I reached under the baggy material and felt
her wet cotton panties, I just began to devour her. I
wished, as did she, that I could have cum again and
again, but I was pretty spent after about an hour or
so.
Just as she slipped back into her soiled panties and
college sweatshirt, we heard a knock came at the
door. I looked through the peep hole and saw Mike, who
we had completely forgotten was coming over to see us
about some not-so-urgent business.
Mike was the first man Carla had ever had sex with in
my presence and the only repeat “offender.” Well, even
though Mike was a little pesky, Carla was already
primed and I was certainly in the mood to see her
satisfied more fully. I quickly whispered for her just
to stay there as is, like we were caught off guard, and
see what developed after I let him in.
Mike, dressed casually in jeans with briefcase in hand,
came in with a big hello and an even bigger smile when
he saw Carla sitting on the couch pretending to stretch
her sweatshirt down to cover herself in a failed at-
tempt.
He had only been with Carla once up until that point
and that was with me in hiding. This time, however, we
quickly cut through the uneasiness and came clean with
everything. I offered him a glass of wine and my wife.
I basically liked and trusted Mike but he always gave
me a little uneasy feeling, like just fucking Carla
wasn’t enough, he wanted to romance her too. As we both
glanced at her, him with great disbelief and me with
the cold blood of a snake, I noticed the moist stain
in Carla’s white panties.
“Of course Mike, as you can see, I’ve laid the ground
work. Since you fucked my wife before, I wouldn’t think
you’d be reluctant.”
He laughed and agreed. “Mind if I take a closer look
Frank?”
“Here let me give you a tour.”
Carla got real dreamy-eyed and quiet. I told her to
slide down on the sofa.
With her slouched in the cushions, she lifted her butt
up and I removed her panties to expose her to our fri-
end as she ran her tongue across her upper teeth. Her
pubic hair was matted on top. She always had it shaved
around the lips though. But her slit was still creamy
with her and my juices and her lips were pink with
renewed excitement.
She totally gave in to my touch as I insisted that
Mike just sit there for a minute while I presented her
to him. I rubbed her pussy as she removed her sweat-
shirt, exposing her small breasts and erect nipples.
Her tits were so white compared to the rest of her.
Then I told her to turn around on the couch, get on
her hands and knees and lean against the back so that
I could show Mike her ass.
“Remember this?” I said as I spread her cheeks first,
then her pussy lips. A little cum trickled from between
them. “She’s all yours man.”
Mike began by undressing immediately, telling her to
wait in that position. Then he went to work on her.
Mike was not shy. He nibbled on her ass while working
a thumb into her snatch.
Carla began throwing her head back and forth, as her
hair draped around the sides of her face. “I want to
suck you, Mike,” she yelled and got off the couch and
asked him to lie down while she bent over him and
guided her head down to his erect cock.
Sometimes Carla really liked to take control; other
times she was passive, even submissive. She leaned over
Mike, pulling violently on his cock. I watched her
hunched over him, with her tan-lined ass right in my
face, and still on her feet.
I couldn’t resist, I had to touch those plump cunt lips
which looked like they were going to explode from the
rear. She squirmed on my fingers, but then I sat back
down.
Mike positioned her over the arm of the couch again and
mounted her, then just began slamming her as she
screamed into the seat cushion. “Cum, on my back, rub
it into my skin! She screamed, but it was too late as
he unloaded with tremendous force inside her.
When he pulled away, she just stayed there, like a slab
of meat hanging over the arm, like in defeat. I got
down on the floor to look at her and saw her pussy
still slightly open. I wanted to lick her clean but
resisted. I told her to try and squeeze the cum out.
She reached back to open herself up more and moved her
vaginal muscles for me.
Mike also watched this post-game show with tremendous
eagerness. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to slap that butt
or eat it up. I did neither. Instead, Carla just rose
up, a little light-headed, brushed back her hair, and
collapsed into the sofa.
Mike wanted to stay and do her again. We politely dis-
couraged him. Mike was the guy who helped us cross over
that line originally, but we prefer other scenarios
and we like being anonymous with our sex partners. And
although Carla would fuck him again, there was more to
our lust than, repeat performances.
Carla and I went to bed about midnight and made pas-
sionate love again. My wife is truly insatiable.