Her Night Out with the Girls

I awake to the front door slamming, a thump against the wall and a giggle, and know my wife is home from her night out with the girls. By the sound of her shoe removal, she’s inebriated, much to my delight.

A few gins in and my most-times prudish wife becomes an insatiable minx.

I fold my hands behind my head and wait for her to ascend the stairs. The drunken stumble is entertaining to say the least, her attempt at being quiet laughable. She’s anything but. A grating rasp accompanies her climb, and I imagine she’s sliding along the wall for balance in her attempt to stay upright. It’s no matter. I know she’s got her eyes on the prize. Come hell or high water, she will make it to her goal.

When the bedroom door finally opens, and she flicks on the light, I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. Hair a mess, one thin strap of her dress is askew, and her eye makeup smudged. She looks like she’s just been fucked. Well. But still very fuckable. Deliciously so.

I know it’s the dancing that’s caused her dishevelment. While my girl may let every man within a hundred yards think he’s got a shot, if they attempt to go for it, she’ll knock ’em down. Every time. It’s one of my favorite things to watch.

“You look like you had fun.” I say with a smile that stretches ear to ear when she replies by kicking the door closed before reaching for the hem of her dress.

Abruptly, she pulls the fabric over her head. The black sequins catch in her golden locks on the down sweep and she spins in her struggle to get free. Her ass is bare, only the tiniest g-string hiding her from view. Each attempt to become untangled makes her wiggle, emphasizing all the right parts. When she’s successfully removed the garment, she drops the dress in a puddle and turns to face me, out of breath, bare breasts bouncing.

“Mmm, fun, yes. But I’m horny. All that grinding and dancing. Bodies bumping. I wish you’d come out with me.” She knows why I don’t. It’s so she’ll come home to me like this.

Though her words are slightly slurred, her movements are assured. She tears the sheets and blanket off the bed, leaving me nude in the center. Her eyes rake over my frame, stopping at my cock, which until a moment ago was comfortably warm, and now isn’t. And it’s quite obvious.

She raises one brow, which, combined with the unkempt hair and the snarky smirk, is sexy as hell. Add that to her sudden slink up my body like a jaguar, breasts swaying beneath her and my cock has a mind of its own. It takes a moment for my brain to catch up.

“That’s better.” She says, with a self-satisfied grin, hot breath against the crown of my dick. As if to reward my member for joining the party, she wraps her lips around the head and gives a good suck. She releases me with a pop, but it’s the lick of her lips, followed by her wiping any excess away that lights me up.

God, I love her sauciness when she’s carefree. For a month at a time, this woman, who is gorgeous and funny and talented, is also strict, serious, and downright anal, and not in the good way. I only ever see her let loose after a night with the girls.

It’s like a switch goes off somewhere around gin number seven, and the seductress I get a glimpse of now and then is suddenly mine for the taking.

“Tell me about your night. What’s new with the girls?” I ask with a hiss as she manhandles my most sensitive organ. It’s hard to concentrate or really care about the answer as her fingers circle the base, massaging before gliding back up.

“We went to that new place, you know the one,” she begins before spitting into her hand to ease her route. Two more strokes and I know I’m checking out of this conversation, now just here for the ride.

“Jane has been insistent we go for months,” she continues, the pace of her hand never slowing. “We get there, and Jane is just… pissy! Like, the worst mood ever. We were only two drinks in and were thinking about leaving. Likely with her still there.” My wife’s grip tightens, almost painfully, so I know she’s serious.

“So, what was Jane’s problem?” The Em is overstated and turns to a “mmm”, as she flicks her thumb over the crown of my cock. I close my eyes to hide their rolling to the back of my head.

“She was horny!” she replies, clamping her fist. When I reply with a hiss, my wife looks down and giggles, gives me a smile of apology and climbs on top instead, only her g-string separating us. “That guy she was seeing broke it off, and she has this belief that she’ll be single and, therefore, unfucked forever.”

I know I need to reply, but her labia have parted nicely and my length slides gracefully over the silky fabric covering. I take a moment to catch my breath. Then take a second for good measure.

“I can’t see that happening. It’s Jane.” I finally grunt. I don’t worry about saying this. Although Jane is a knockout to anyone’s standards, this girl, my wife, who’s rocking her hips in my lap, knows she blows Jane out of the water. Jane is hot, but my girl, she’s on fire.

“That’s what we said, but she was having none of it. She kept going on and on. Jolene finally kissed her, just to shut her up.”

Now, she has my attention. These girls go out every month and have an insane amount of fun, but I’ve never heard of them kissing before. They lead guys on, grind their sexy little bodies together, and stay one step below stripping, but to date, I don’t think anyone has ever taken it this far.

“Oh, do tell.” I say, not hiding my grin.

She smirks at me, then pulls her thong to the side, exposing herself to my view, and coating me in her essence. Her back arches as she massages her clit against my shaft, and her hands lift into her hair, pulling the honey-coloured strands away from her neck. She looks like a goddess, and I can’t wait to worship her. But I know the rules of this monthly game. She’ll be taking what she wants.

“Jane kissed her back.” She doesn’t falter, only continues pressing her button against the head of my dick. Each pass rubs just the right way and I look down in time to see my pre cum mix in with her juices.

“Like full out, pulled Jolene’s head back by a fist of hair and rammed her tongue down her throat. Nobody knew what to say, so we just watched.”

The mental image of two hot chicks making out in the middle of a bar, and the active visual of my wife gyrating against my cock, are doing wonderful things for my libido, but not so great things for my stamina. If I don’t get inside her soon, I’m going to embarrass myself. But I know I only have to hold out a little bit longer. Once she makes herself come, she’ll gladly pull me inside.

“So you all just stood there, watching your two good friends make out? For how long?” I’m not sure she’s listening. Her head is thrown back, and she’s begun to grind harder and faster, releasing keening whimpers with every pass.

“I don’t know. We were so transfixed.” Her voice is breathless, and I know she’s close. “Jolene, let Jane hold her in place, and Jane just went to town. She pulled Jolene’s head back so far, her back arched. But I think Jolene enjoyed it, because she moaned like a whore and her nipples were so hard, I could see them popping through the fabric of her dress.” My wife lets out a long moan of her own.

The auditory stimuli combined with the visual do nothing to help the growing ache in my groin. I’ve gritted my teeth to hold back my arousal, to the point my jaw aches. But my girl just rocks harder, slipping across me with fervor, oblivious to the ache in my balls.

“Finally, I cleared my throat, and the two broke apart. Jolene looked so dazed and flushed, and Jane just smiled like a Cheshire cat. The entire bar cheered them on. I joined in.”

That wasn’t the finale I had hoped for, but my girl’s breathing is faster than a freight train, and her chest is heaving, so maybe it’s perfect. I’m getting ready for her order, the one I’ve been waiting for, but it doesn’t come, and neither does she.

“A few drinks later, I don’t know how many, but Jane and Jolene disappeared,” she says instead. “At first we were worried, then someone asked if we’d checked the bathroom. I volunteered to go see if all was well, and sure enough. There they were.”

The suspense is killing me. Not only to find out what these suddenly voyeuristic girls were up to, but also to get inside my wife. My balls ache, and with every forward press of her hips, a tingle forms in my spine. Pre-cum is oozing from my cock, but she doesn’t slow, and she won’t until she’s reached her goal.

“What were they doing?” My voice sounds strangled, even to my own ears, and when she looks at me, she gives me a pitying smile. But she doesn’t pause. I don’t want her to.

“Jolene was sitting on the countertop, her legs spread wide.” Her stance widens, as if she’s reliving the scene. “And Jane was kneeling between them.” My wife’s hips twitch, their tempo increasing. Interesting. “I could see everything,” she continues. “Jolene was bare, and Jane was petting her. Running her fingers slowly up and down, around in a circle. Jolene looked so soft. She was completely smooth, not like the patch I have, and her pussy was so tidy.”

I watch my girl’s face as she tells me this. Her eyes are closed, and a wistfulness relaxes her features. Her head lolls to one side as she puts her hands on my chest and grinds harder into me.

“Jane looked over her shoulder at me, and simply smiled, then pushed two fingers deep into Jolene, who spread her legs wider.” My girl’s legs can’t get any wider, not with me between them. But that doesn’t stop her from trying, which just pushes her clit harder into my shaft. To both our delights.

“When I looked up at Jolene, she was staring back at me, licking her lips and groping her boobs.” My wife pauses to grab her own, rolling her nipples before lifting the swollen globes and letting them go. She trains her hooded eyes on me, almost blushing and says, “She looked so…” her voice trails off, but she doesn’t stop rocking her hips.

This fresh development has stemmed my impending climax, for the time being, but the new line of thought has me wondering.

“Did you like what you saw?” I’m not sure if it sounds like dread or excitement.

Her eyes close tight, and she arches her back until her breasts point towards the sky. A sheen of sweat layers her skin, her breathing becoming frantic.

“Mmmm. When I caught Jolene staring at me, I thought I should leave, and let them finish, but then Jane lowered her mouth to Jolene’s center and licked her from ass to clit. I couldn’t move.”

In the here and now, my wife moves quite well. Her hips are rocking at a fever pitch and she’s pulling her nipples and rolling them between her fingers with such enthusiasm I’m sure she’ll have bruises tomorrow.

Okay, I take back what I said about my impending climax

“I stayed until the very end, Jolene held Jane’s head in place and rode her face like a bronco. Then the three of us walked out together. I didn’t tell anyone what I saw, but before I left tonight, Jane asked if I wanted to be next.”

That’s what does it for my wife. Without warning, she falls apart, hips bucking, head lolling, chest heaving. Her cry is primal, but turns to the sexiest whimpers I’ve ever heard. Before she’s even finished, she rolls her hips forward, and I slip inside with impeccable precision. In one thrust, I’m seated deep. She’s warm and wet, and my cock spasms from the sudden shift.

My wife rides out the last dregs of her orgasm, her tight channel milking me, and like the pathetic man I am, I follow her quickly down the orgasm trail, my wife collapsing on top.

Once we’ve caught our breath, or she does rather — I haven’t done a whole lot. She lifts her head and kisses me sweetly, then begins to climb off. I hold her in place, one hand on either thigh. I can’t help but ask her.

“So, what did you say?” My wife raises her eyebrow in question. “About being next,” I say incredulously.

She simply shrugs as she climbs off, crawls to the end of the mattress, oblivious to the view she gives me, and grabs the discarded bed clothes before curling up, head on my shoulder, hand cradling my softening cock.

“What do you think? I’m home, aren’t I?” she answers like it’s self explanatory. Maybe it is.

Not even a minute later, my wife is sound asleep, soft snores filling the room.

She likely won’t remember most of this encounter. She never does, or so she says. The booze muddles her memories, being the excuse I’m given.

But as I lay awake beside her, I contemplate what might happen next month during her night out with the girls. I sense a change in the air, maybe I should start going with them.

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Header image for Night Out with the Girls by Photo by Jeff Tumale on Unsplash

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