Flirty Wendy
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Flirty Wendy free porn video
I'm fairly certain my wife is not cheating on me. I mean, I'm pretty sure she's not . . .
**************************
My wife, Wendy, has always been the flirty type. In fact, her flirty ways are what initially attracted me to her. That, and her incredible beauty and infectious charm.
Wendy is one of those women who is ultra ladylike and enjoys such an attractive and easy personality that she instantly invites a lot of attention--from both men and women.
Wendy flirts, but that's it. My friends, however, think I'm blind and they feel that Wendy's probably taking her flirting a lot farther than I think. I scoff at their remarks and remind them; Wendy and I aren't single anymore, we're married. They always smile when I say that.
So it didn't surprise me when she mentioned that she had become close to some new people at her work. She had just started this job about 6 months ago and everything has been fantastic for her so far. In that short time Wendy has made several new friends, including some "men friends" as she likes to say.
Wendy came home last Wednesday and said one of her work friends, Michael, had shown some interest in the same types of movies that Wendy and I like to watch. We always have a running list of films we'd like to rent and one of the films on that list we intended to watch tonight, Friday night. Wendy had mentioned this to Michael, and he said he'd been wanting to see that same film for quiet a while. And Wendy, being as she is, quickly invited Michael over Friday to watch the movie.
"So, you're all right with Michael coming over then?" she cooed running her fingers down my cheek.
"Sure, I don't have a problem with that. Should we get any hors d'oeuvres or drinks?"
"No, honey," Wendy replied, "I think what we have in the kitchen should be fine. I'd just like to relax and watch the movie with Michael without making a big production out of it. I think that's what he'd like best, anyway."
So I made my way to the rental store about 7:00 p.m. Michael had told Wendy that he'd show up around 8:30 or 9:00. I got the movie and at a little before 9:00 the doorbell rang.
"I'll get it, baby," Wendy called out joyfully as she skipped her way to the front door.
"Michael! Hi cutie, you look so handsome! Wow, I mean you look really good, it's no wonder why we girls fawn over you!"
I smiled and thought Wendy was being her flirtatious best, when suddenly, she put both hands on Michael's cheeks and kissed him square on the lips. I wouldn't have thought much of a simple kiss on the lips, but the kiss lasted much longer than your typical "peck." Even Michael seemed to respond oddly by returning my wife's forwardness with an equally passionate return kiss.
Feeling somewhat awkward, I tried to interrupt. "Uh, Well . . .hello there!" I proclaimed rather loudly and obnoxiously. That did the trick, but I couldn't help thinking about how odd that kiss was.
As Wendy and Michael broke off their kiss as I stood clumsily behind my wife. Michael licked his lips a bit, smiled again at Wendy and then looked over her shoulder to me to extend his greeting. I offered to take his coat and Michael accepted. After he handed it to me to be hung up, Wendy grabbed Michael's hand and whisked him toward our TV room like an excited schoolgirl.
If Wendy weren't such a natural flirt, I would have been somewhat suspicious of her actions--including Michael's reactions. But over the years I have come to expect it. And I thoroughly trust Wendy.
My lovely wife and Michael settled into the TV room and Wendy chose to sit next to Michael on our couch. The couch is usually where I sit to watch TV; Wendy has her own chair. But as Michael situated himself on the side of the couch farthest from the TV, Wendy sat down very close next to him.
So, knowing that Wendy would be upset if I didn't extend the utmost in hospitality, I asked Michael if I could get him anything.
Wendy chimed in, "Honey, why don't you make us some strawberry daiquiris. I'm in the mood for some tonight!"
This was a surprise. . .
Unlike other alcoholic drinks Wendy and I enjoy, strawberry daiquiris make Wendy very horny.
Very horny.
Or at least she says they do, but I'm not one to argue with her since I'm always on the receiving end of her horniness after 1 or 2 strawberry daiquiris!
So I scurried off into the kitchen to start blending the daiquiris. Our kitchen is next to the TV room but the working space is behind a wall virtually cutting off any visual sight to the TV room. As I started to make the daiquiris, I could hear Wendy and Michael whispering to each other followed by a hushed giggle. I was tempted to look but I didn't want to appear rude.
I thought to myself how nice it was for Wendy to have a co-worker that she enjoys being with. As the motor of the blender came to a stop Wendy was again giggling and "shhh" noises came from the room--now it sounded as if the two of them were giggling teenagers.
I finished 3 strawberry daiquiris and put them on a tray to bring to Wendy and Michael. I announced the daiquiris were coming and entered into the TV room. To my surprise, Wendy was on the floor kneeling right in front of Michael with her hands in his lap. It almost looked like an opening scene to a porno movie.
"What are you guys doing," I asked nonchalantly trying to ignore the suggestive position Wendy was in.
"Oh Michael was just admiring the manicure I got at the salon yesterday. He told me I have very beautiful hands. . .or, you said sexy hands, didn't you?"
"Yes," responded Michael somewhat blushing with his deep voice, "they're very sexy."
"Well, I think so too," I said putting down the tray of daiquiris. I couldn't help to notice how close Wendy's hands were to Michael's crotch.
"Oh, goody," chimed Wendy, "I need one of these bad. This is the perfect setting for strawberry daiquiris, don't you think, hon?"
I guess so, I thought to myself. But I wondered why she would think this is a perfect setting if we weren't alone and able to move into the bedroom for a good romp. Perhaps she's preparing herself for me for the time after Michael leaves.
"Why don't you put the movie in, honey. And dim the lights a bit, it makes for such a nice atmosphere."
"Okay," I replied, dimming the lights to a candlelight level. "Do you want to sit in your chair then?" hoping to bring my wife closer to me--especially now that she was pumping herself up with the daiquiris.
"No, I think I'll sit next to Michael on the couch. Why don't you sit in my chair." Turning her attention to Michael, "Of course, if that's okay with you, Michael."
"Definitely," he said with a big grin, "I hope you're not ticklish."
"I am ticklish!" Wendy flirted back, "but only in certain spots!"
The two of them were definitely striking up a friendship. But I couldn't quite figure out if Wendy was just being her normal flirty self, or whether she was truly fond of Michael. I imagine that any other guy in this situation would be jealous, but I know my Wendy, and she does this all the time. Well, I mean, I'm not with her every hour of the day, and tonight she seems a bit overly flirty--but without having been around Wendy with other guys at our house, I have nothing to base my fears. I guessed things were fine.
I hit the play button and started the movie.
Not less than 5 minutes into the movie, Wendy announced that her drink was finished. "Honey, would you be a dear and make me another daiquiris?" I was a bit annoyed and told her to put the movie on pause.
"Now don't be rude to Michael, dear. He has been so nice to come over tonight, so show him our hospitality and bring us some more drinks."
I couldn't help notice that she said "us" instead of "me." I was starting to feel like simply a servant for Wendy and her "man friend" instead of her considerate husband. I couldn't help feeling a bit angry.
I went into the kitchen while the movie played on when Wendy yelled to me, "and you had best make 2 batches, I'm feeling in the mood." With strawberry daiquiris, only 1 is usually enough to make her really horny. 2 strawberry daiquiris make her lose a lot of her very few inhibitions, and 3 or more--well, I've never seen her after 3 daiquiris. I was feeling pretty confident that I would be getting some tonight!
"And dear," Wendy shouted across to me, "shut the kitchen door so blender doesn't disturb us."
Disturb us? How did I become the odd man out here?
"Okay," I answered sarcastically, shutting the door to give my wife and her "man friend" privacy.
I was genuinely bitter as a toiled over 2 more batches of daiquiris. We had just enough mix and alcohol left to make these 2 batches, but then I realized we didn't have enough ice. Now it seems I was going to miss even more of the movie. Fortunately, we have a corner convenience store 3 blocks down from us and they will carry ice. Since, it's almost 10:00 p.m. now, I figured I'd have to hurry before they close.
I opened the kitchen door and mentioned to Wendy and Michael that we were out of ice and that I'd have to go get some. I was hoping for a bit of sympathy, but instead Wendy said, "Okay, hurry up, I'm thirsty."
She looked back with a smile toward Michael, "I think we'll just have to make ourselves comfortable while we wait for our drinks." Then Wendy moved herself sideways on the couch with her back toward Michael. She then rested herself against his shoulder.
"Mmm, this is much more comfortable. This okay, Michael?"
"Well," he answered, "let me move my leg over," as he swung his leg over Wendy's head while leaving the other one on the ground. Wendy was now cradled between Michael's legs with the back of her head and shoulders resting on his chest. They looked like 2 teenage riders about to embark on a roller coaster. Michael's arm couldn't rest comfortably on the backrest of the couch, and after his fleeting attempt, he rested his arm on top of Wendy's thigh.
"There," Wendy grinned, "all comfy." Then they both looked at me smiling silently as if they were ready for me to go and leave them alone.
So I did.
It only took me about 15 minutes to get the ice and return to mixing the daiquiris, but I found that a lot can happen 15 minutes. Not only did I miss a good part of the movie, but as I passed Wendy and Michael on my way to the kitchen, I noticed that Michael was caressing and stroking Wendy's hair from behind. It wasn't anything too objectionable, it just seemed a bit odd to see my wife having her hair stroked by a man I had never met before tonight.
And as I rounded them toward the kitchen, Wendy had her hand on Michael's inside leg, very naturally, but she was stroking him back and forth with her thumb--as if a reciprocating a bit for Michael stroking her hair. I felt like that rude person entering into a movie theater in the middle of a scene, so I continued quietly into the kitchen and closed the door behind me. I then finished the mixing.
"Finally! we have daiquiris again," I announced as I bounded into the TV room with a tray full of daiquiris.
Without even looking, Wendy half-whispered, "Shhhhh! Hand them to us and go sit down, we're trying to watch the movie."
I was a hurt by this and against my better judgment said, "What, I don't get any thanks for this?"
"I'm sorry," Wendy answered sincerely with a smile, "you've done a good job serving us, honey."
"Yeah, thanks," retorted Michael, fully fixated on the movie.
There it was again--serving them. Well, it was certainly beginning to feel that way, but I shook it off.
We made it through the end of the movie but not without more questionable flirtations by Wendy. During the last part of the film, she continued to try to make herself more comfortable by scooting backward tighter into Michael's lap. And the caressing seemed to increase. Michael at times would use 2 hands to stroke and smooth Wendy's hair.
Wendy meanwhile had wrapped her arm around Michael's leg and I couldn't tell where her hand was resting. Michael had propped his leg up on the couch so his knee was high in the air. Wendy cradled his leg like it was a football and, from my vantage point, her hand was still caressing him only now she could only be caressing his upper thigh--or his butt. But I couldn't be sure. Since I couldn't see very well, and I didn't want to make the situation awkward, I tried to focus on the movie . . .
An hour later it ended.
"Wow, that was a great movie," Wendy squealed with delight. She then turned fully around while remaining inside Michael's lap, "what did you think, hon?"
I answered, "Well, I didn't get to. . ."
"No! Not you, silly-- Michael." Wendy looked at me with a smirk, and turned back to face Michael. Her face was literally a couple of inches away from his as she looked up to him longingly, "What did you think, Michael?"
I was completely shocked that she called him "hon." But I figured it was probably just a simple faux paus, like calling a friend by another friend's name.
Michael answered, "Not too bad. I'd have to say that love scene was hot."
What "love" scene, I thought. I must have missed it when I went to the store.
"Very hot," Wendy replied, "Did you notice the man in that scene looked a lot like you, Michael."
"Really?"
"Oh, yeah. He was absolutely gorgeous. Tall and well built, just like you. There are only a few men in the world who are on your level."
Michael looked flattered. I, on the other hand, was feeling a bit inadequate. Wendy sensed this and turned to me.
"But you're good too, dear! You know, you're. . .you're cute. . .especially in the way you do things for me," She said this in such a sing-song way that it was painfully obvious that I was definitely not "well-built" but simply "cute" and I "do" things for her.
Turning back to Michael, "Thanks for the hair massage, it really relaxed me," and then Wendy pushed herself upward to meet Michael's lips with another friendly kiss. With her head still cocked backwards, she broke it off and whispered in her breathy voice, "Really, thank you" and kissed him again, even more passionate. Wendy sounded and acted like she had known Michael all her life, and if I didn't know better, you'd think they were the ones who were married, not us.
I was nervous. "Okay! Well, then. Umm. . . well, I guess that's it then! Michael, thanks for coming over and . . ."
"Wait," Wendy stopped me, "Michael's not leaving yet," as she looked at me sternly as if I was taking candy away from her. "Do you have to go?" she asked looking wide-eyed at him. Michael responded that he didn't.
"Good!" Then seizing on a thought in her head, "Hey, some of the girls at work said you're a terrific dancer. Is that true?"
Michael told her that he had been a dancer for some years and actually taught some dance steps at a local studio before he landed the job at their company.
"Oh my God, really? Would you dance with me, please." Wendy knows I'm a terrible dancer and relishes any chance to dance. She loves it. Michael willingly obliged to teach her some steps. Figuring we'd be staying a bit longer, I refreshed their daiquiris with the last of the batches--there was only enough left for two, so I went without another drink.
"Dear?" turning quickly to me, "move the table and chairs off to the side to give us some room. And put in that new compilation CD, you know, the one with all the different styles of music." Feeling again like my wife's servant, I moved the coffee table and Wendy's chair to give her and her "man friend" room to dance. I found the CD and put it into our stereo.
Michael found a tune that he liked and began showing Wendy some steps. They swirled and spinned, and on a few occasions Michael even dipped Wendy. They were having a lovely time. I had to admit they looked good together as I stood in the corner and watched.
They finished dancing to their 3rd or 4th song when Wendy went to get her strawberry daiquiris. "You know," she said to me with a sly smile, "these things really put me in the mood."
She chugged the last of her drink and gave me her 'I'm horny' look, "Honey, you better pour me another one!"
"Um, Wendy, haven't you already had 3 of those?" I asked, seriously wondering if she was going to get drunk.
"Yes! Yes I have!" she clamored. "But I'm feeling really, really good right now. I'm all warm inside--and not just from dancing with Michael! I don't want to loose this feeling so keep the drinks coming!"
"But . . ." as I tried to explain, Michael interrupted me just as a slow song started on the CD.
"I had better find a better song . . .," Michael said as he approached the stereo.
"Oh wait, wait! I love this song," Wendy said as she grabbed Michael's shoulder and turned him toward her. "It's so romantic, and I've always wanted to slow dance to this song--especially after a few strawberry daiquiris" she smiled widely. Wendy brought her face right up to Michael's whispering, "Will you dance with me?" And when Michael obliged, Wendy again thanked him with another gentle kiss on his lips.
Wendy and Michael began a very slow and romantic looking dance. Wendy's hands rested vertically on Michael's broad and tall shoulders, while Michael had his hands low on Wendy's back. Wendy looked so happy as she rested the side of her head against Michael's chest.
I tried to continue. "But . . .but we're out of daiquiris, Wendy. That was the last of the batch," I said softly and dramatically as I tried not to disturb her too much.
Raising her head slowly from Michael's chest, "Then hurry down to the corner store and get some more," she said, slightly annoyed by my message.
"It's 10:45, the corner store is closed. I think we have some beer in the refrigerator, would you like one of those instead?"
Wendy now looked at me with piercing eyes, "Honey," she paused sternly, "I would like another strawberry daiquiris. I'm feeling really special right now and I don't want it to end." Then she turned back and placed her head back against Michael's chest and they continued their slow dance.
Wendy turned back to me matter-of-factly, "Well, you'll just have to go to Murphy's and pick up some more mix."
"Murphy's?" I questioned.
Murphy's is the late night liqueur store that Wendy and I frequent on nights that we're out late on the town and need to bring home a nightcap. Murphy's is the only place in town that would still be open this late.
"But Wendy," I pleaded, "Murphy's is over 30 minutes away from us, it would be over an hour by the time I got back here!" Half of me thought she couldn't be serious, but the other half was becoming jaded after bearing witness to my wife's demanding actions tonight.
Wendy then turned up and met Michael's eyes, "I'm sure we'll think of something to do while your gone," smiling widely at him. Then in a deja vu event, they both turned to look at me, Wendy smiling with her head in his chest, and danced slowly and silently in a clear signal for me to get in the car and drive to Murphy's.
Miffed, I grabbed my coat and keys and proceeded to head out the door. I passed by the TV room and glanced over Wendy and Michael still dancing to the slow tune. Wendy had her left arm wrapped around Michael's waist, and her other hand was holding the back of his head with Michael's hair combed through her fingers. I couldn't be sure but it looked like Wendy was about to embrace him in another kiss.
"Ok, I'm off," I yelled purposely trying to interrupt them, "you guys just keep on dancing and I'll see you in an hour or so." I got no response as I closed the front door behind me.
I was a bit nervous leaving them alone like that but I new Wendy was just a flirt--harmless fun.
Murphy's had the mix and alcohol that I needed, and even though I drove as fast as possible, I took an hour and 15 minutes to get back home.
As I approached the house, I saw a dark car moving past my driveway. As it passed, I looked and saw a male figure that looked a lot like Michael. I parked the car and went inside.
"Hi guys," I announced, "I'm back with goodies!" It was now past midnight and all was quiet inside--no music, no TV. I came to an empty TV room and called out again for Wendy.
"In here," came her tired sounding voice, "I'm in the bedroom."
I approached the bedroom and found Wendy lying on the bed--which was still made but uncharacteristically messy. "What are you doing in here?" I asked. "Where's Michael?"
"Oh, he had to leave. In fact, he just left," she said, sighing pleasantly.
"I think I just saw him," I responded. "I thought you wanted to stay up and drink some more?"
Wendy looked at me and stretched on the bed. She looked so sexy, but I couldn't help noticing her top was un-tucked from her skirt. "Well, we did, but got very tired about 10 minutes ago."
"Still dancing, huh" I mused.
"Yes. . . we danced. . .we talked and, well. . ." she again stretched on the bed and turned over on her stomach resting her head on her arms, "he really knows how to treat a woman." Wendy was smiling to herself with her eyes closed, in almost a dreamy-like state.
I noticed that Wendy's lipstick was very smudged--must have been from the drinks.
"Well, I know how to treat a woman too, ya know," I said as I tried to show my bravado that, on this night, seemed to pale in comparison to Michael's.
Wendy opened her eyes and looked over to me. With a knowing smile she said "I know you're probably really horny, but I'm really tired and I'd just like to go to sleep."
"But what about the strawberry daiquiris?" I said sadly.
"Oh they did the trick," she giggled. "I just don't think I can stay awake any longer. Go put the that stuff away and join me in bed," she said as she pulled back the bedding and began to slip off her clothes--pulling down her skirt first and then unbuckling her heels. Wendy is so incredibly sexy.
I put the mix and alcohol away and joined Wendy in the bedroom. I undressed, hit the lights and climbed in next to her.
Wendy was resting on her back, so I rolled on my side next to her and began caressing her stomach as I kissed her cheek. "You sure you don't want some of this stud!" I whispered sweetly to her as I moved my hand down across the top of her panties. Her panties were surprisingly moist. I figured it must be from the combination of her excitement early in the evening and all the dancing she did when I was away.
"Wow, you're all wet, you sure you're not horny?"
"No, baby," Wendy whispered softly, her eyes still closed, "I was . . .earlier, but not any more," as her voice trailed off in a very satisfied tone.
Wendy moved my hand away from her panties and motioned me to roll over facing away from her. She then snuggled up behind me and placed her hand gently on my rock hard penis.
She stroked me a few times, then tickled my shaft and balls.
"I had a wonderful time tonight, hon," she whispered.
"I know you did, I'm glad" I responded.
"I'm glad you feel that way," Wendy perked up.
"Michael wanted me to ask you if it's all right if he continues my dance lessons at his place Monday night. I know you watch football on Monday night so I figured it would be great if you drop me off at Michael's for those 3 hours so we can continue where we left off." Wendy continued to tickle the shaft of my penis with her nails.
"That's okay with you, right dear?" she continued, "It would make me so happy if you'd do that for me."
"Well, I guess so," I responded, "you seem so happy with your new friend."
"I am dear, thank you." Wendy nestled up in her pillow and stroked me a few more times. "Yes," she continued, "he's my new favorite 'man friend!'"
As I contemplated our evening I couldn't help but wonder if my friends were right. "Nope," I said to myself, I know my wife and she's simply the flirty personality type. Nothing more.
Wendy stopped stroking and drifted off to sleep. I closed my eyes. How lucky I am to have snared such a playful and exciting wife. I'm sure she'll have a great 3 hour time with Michael on Monday night--I'm mean, it's just dancing . . .
. . . and perhaps a friendly kiss or two . . .
**************************
My wife, Wendy, has always been the flirty type. In fact, her flirty ways are what initially attracted me to her. That, and her incredible beauty and infectious charm.
Wendy is one of those women who is ultra ladylike and enjoys such an attractive and easy personality that she instantly invites a lot of attention--from both men and women.
Wendy flirts, but that's it. My friends, however, think I'm blind and they feel that Wendy's probably taking her flirting a lot farther than I think. I scoff at their remarks and remind them; Wendy and I aren't single anymore, we're married. They always smile when I say that.
So it didn't surprise me when she mentioned that she had become close to some new people at her work. She had just started this job about 6 months ago and everything has been fantastic for her so far. In that short time Wendy has made several new friends, including some "men friends" as she likes to say.
Wendy came home last Wednesday and said one of her work friends, Michael, had shown some interest in the same types of movies that Wendy and I like to watch. We always have a running list of films we'd like to rent and one of the films on that list we intended to watch tonight, Friday night. Wendy had mentioned this to Michael, and he said he'd been wanting to see that same film for quiet a while. And Wendy, being as she is, quickly invited Michael over Friday to watch the movie.
"So, you're all right with Michael coming over then?" she cooed running her fingers down my cheek.
"Sure, I don't have a problem with that. Should we get any hors d'oeuvres or drinks?"
"No, honey," Wendy replied, "I think what we have in the kitchen should be fine. I'd just like to relax and watch the movie with Michael without making a big production out of it. I think that's what he'd like best, anyway."
So I made my way to the rental store about 7:00 p.m. Michael had told Wendy that he'd show up around 8:30 or 9:00. I got the movie and at a little before 9:00 the doorbell rang.
"I'll get it, baby," Wendy called out joyfully as she skipped her way to the front door.
"Michael! Hi cutie, you look so handsome! Wow, I mean you look really good, it's no wonder why we girls fawn over you!"
I smiled and thought Wendy was being her flirtatious best, when suddenly, she put both hands on Michael's cheeks and kissed him square on the lips. I wouldn't have thought much of a simple kiss on the lips, but the kiss lasted much longer than your typical "peck." Even Michael seemed to respond oddly by returning my wife's forwardness with an equally passionate return kiss.
Feeling somewhat awkward, I tried to interrupt. "Uh, Well . . .hello there!" I proclaimed rather loudly and obnoxiously. That did the trick, but I couldn't help thinking about how odd that kiss was.
As Wendy and Michael broke off their kiss as I stood clumsily behind my wife. Michael licked his lips a bit, smiled again at Wendy and then looked over her shoulder to me to extend his greeting. I offered to take his coat and Michael accepted. After he handed it to me to be hung up, Wendy grabbed Michael's hand and whisked him toward our TV room like an excited schoolgirl.
If Wendy weren't such a natural flirt, I would have been somewhat suspicious of her actions--including Michael's reactions. But over the years I have come to expect it. And I thoroughly trust Wendy.
My lovely wife and Michael settled into the TV room and Wendy chose to sit next to Michael on our couch. The couch is usually where I sit to watch TV; Wendy has her own chair. But as Michael situated himself on the side of the couch farthest from the TV, Wendy sat down very close next to him.
So, knowing that Wendy would be upset if I didn't extend the utmost in hospitality, I asked Michael if I could get him anything.
Wendy chimed in, "Honey, why don't you make us some strawberry daiquiris. I'm in the mood for some tonight!"
This was a surprise. . .
Unlike other alcoholic drinks Wendy and I enjoy, strawberry daiquiris make Wendy very horny.
Very horny.
Or at least she says they do, but I'm not one to argue with her since I'm always on the receiving end of her horniness after 1 or 2 strawberry daiquiris!
So I scurried off into the kitchen to start blending the daiquiris. Our kitchen is next to the TV room but the working space is behind a wall virtually cutting off any visual sight to the TV room. As I started to make the daiquiris, I could hear Wendy and Michael whispering to each other followed by a hushed giggle. I was tempted to look but I didn't want to appear rude.
I thought to myself how nice it was for Wendy to have a co-worker that she enjoys being with. As the motor of the blender came to a stop Wendy was again giggling and "shhh" noises came from the room--now it sounded as if the two of them were giggling teenagers.
I finished 3 strawberry daiquiris and put them on a tray to bring to Wendy and Michael. I announced the daiquiris were coming and entered into the TV room. To my surprise, Wendy was on the floor kneeling right in front of Michael with her hands in his lap. It almost looked like an opening scene to a porno movie.
"What are you guys doing," I asked nonchalantly trying to ignore the suggestive position Wendy was in.
"Oh Michael was just admiring the manicure I got at the salon yesterday. He told me I have very beautiful hands. . .or, you said sexy hands, didn't you?"
"Yes," responded Michael somewhat blushing with his deep voice, "they're very sexy."
"Well, I think so too," I said putting down the tray of daiquiris. I couldn't help to notice how close Wendy's hands were to Michael's crotch.
"Oh, goody," chimed Wendy, "I need one of these bad. This is the perfect setting for strawberry daiquiris, don't you think, hon?"
I guess so, I thought to myself. But I wondered why she would think this is a perfect setting if we weren't alone and able to move into the bedroom for a good romp. Perhaps she's preparing herself for me for the time after Michael leaves.
"Why don't you put the movie in, honey. And dim the lights a bit, it makes for such a nice atmosphere."
"Okay," I replied, dimming the lights to a candlelight level. "Do you want to sit in your chair then?" hoping to bring my wife closer to me--especially now that she was pumping herself up with the daiquiris.
"No, I think I'll sit next to Michael on the couch. Why don't you sit in my chair." Turning her attention to Michael, "Of course, if that's okay with you, Michael."
"Definitely," he said with a big grin, "I hope you're not ticklish."
"I am ticklish!" Wendy flirted back, "but only in certain spots!"
The two of them were definitely striking up a friendship. But I couldn't quite figure out if Wendy was just being her normal flirty self, or whether she was truly fond of Michael. I imagine that any other guy in this situation would be jealous, but I know my Wendy, and she does this all the time. Well, I mean, I'm not with her every hour of the day, and tonight she seems a bit overly flirty--but without having been around Wendy with other guys at our house, I have nothing to base my fears. I guessed things were fine.
I hit the play button and started the movie.
Not less than 5 minutes into the movie, Wendy announced that her drink was finished. "Honey, would you be a dear and make me another daiquiris?" I was a bit annoyed and told her to put the movie on pause.
"Now don't be rude to Michael, dear. He has been so nice to come over tonight, so show him our hospitality and bring us some more drinks."
I couldn't help notice that she said "us" instead of "me." I was starting to feel like simply a servant for Wendy and her "man friend" instead of her considerate husband. I couldn't help feeling a bit angry.
I went into the kitchen while the movie played on when Wendy yelled to me, "and you had best make 2 batches, I'm feeling in the mood." With strawberry daiquiris, only 1 is usually enough to make her really horny. 2 strawberry daiquiris make her lose a lot of her very few inhibitions, and 3 or more--well, I've never seen her after 3 daiquiris. I was feeling pretty confident that I would be getting some tonight!
"And dear," Wendy shouted across to me, "shut the kitchen door so blender doesn't disturb us."
Disturb us? How did I become the odd man out here?
"Okay," I answered sarcastically, shutting the door to give my wife and her "man friend" privacy.
I was genuinely bitter as a toiled over 2 more batches of daiquiris. We had just enough mix and alcohol left to make these 2 batches, but then I realized we didn't have enough ice. Now it seems I was going to miss even more of the movie. Fortunately, we have a corner convenience store 3 blocks down from us and they will carry ice. Since, it's almost 10:00 p.m. now, I figured I'd have to hurry before they close.
I opened the kitchen door and mentioned to Wendy and Michael that we were out of ice and that I'd have to go get some. I was hoping for a bit of sympathy, but instead Wendy said, "Okay, hurry up, I'm thirsty."
She looked back with a smile toward Michael, "I think we'll just have to make ourselves comfortable while we wait for our drinks." Then Wendy moved herself sideways on the couch with her back toward Michael. She then rested herself against his shoulder.
"Mmm, this is much more comfortable. This okay, Michael?"
"Well," he answered, "let me move my leg over," as he swung his leg over Wendy's head while leaving the other one on the ground. Wendy was now cradled between Michael's legs with the back of her head and shoulders resting on his chest. They looked like 2 teenage riders about to embark on a roller coaster. Michael's arm couldn't rest comfortably on the backrest of the couch, and after his fleeting attempt, he rested his arm on top of Wendy's thigh.
"There," Wendy grinned, "all comfy." Then they both looked at me smiling silently as if they were ready for me to go and leave them alone.
So I did.
It only took me about 15 minutes to get the ice and return to mixing the daiquiris, but I found that a lot can happen 15 minutes. Not only did I miss a good part of the movie, but as I passed Wendy and Michael on my way to the kitchen, I noticed that Michael was caressing and stroking Wendy's hair from behind. It wasn't anything too objectionable, it just seemed a bit odd to see my wife having her hair stroked by a man I had never met before tonight.
And as I rounded them toward the kitchen, Wendy had her hand on Michael's inside leg, very naturally, but she was stroking him back and forth with her thumb--as if a reciprocating a bit for Michael stroking her hair. I felt like that rude person entering into a movie theater in the middle of a scene, so I continued quietly into the kitchen and closed the door behind me. I then finished the mixing.
"Finally! we have daiquiris again," I announced as I bounded into the TV room with a tray full of daiquiris.
Without even looking, Wendy half-whispered, "Shhhhh! Hand them to us and go sit down, we're trying to watch the movie."
I was a hurt by this and against my better judgment said, "What, I don't get any thanks for this?"
"I'm sorry," Wendy answered sincerely with a smile, "you've done a good job serving us, honey."
"Yeah, thanks," retorted Michael, fully fixated on the movie.
There it was again--serving them. Well, it was certainly beginning to feel that way, but I shook it off.
We made it through the end of the movie but not without more questionable flirtations by Wendy. During the last part of the film, she continued to try to make herself more comfortable by scooting backward tighter into Michael's lap. And the caressing seemed to increase. Michael at times would use 2 hands to stroke and smooth Wendy's hair.
Wendy meanwhile had wrapped her arm around Michael's leg and I couldn't tell where her hand was resting. Michael had propped his leg up on the couch so his knee was high in the air. Wendy cradled his leg like it was a football and, from my vantage point, her hand was still caressing him only now she could only be caressing his upper thigh--or his butt. But I couldn't be sure. Since I couldn't see very well, and I didn't want to make the situation awkward, I tried to focus on the movie . . .
An hour later it ended.
"Wow, that was a great movie," Wendy squealed with delight. She then turned fully around while remaining inside Michael's lap, "what did you think, hon?"
I answered, "Well, I didn't get to. . ."
"No! Not you, silly-- Michael." Wendy looked at me with a smirk, and turned back to face Michael. Her face was literally a couple of inches away from his as she looked up to him longingly, "What did you think, Michael?"
I was completely shocked that she called him "hon." But I figured it was probably just a simple faux paus, like calling a friend by another friend's name.
Michael answered, "Not too bad. I'd have to say that love scene was hot."
What "love" scene, I thought. I must have missed it when I went to the store.
"Very hot," Wendy replied, "Did you notice the man in that scene looked a lot like you, Michael."
"Really?"
"Oh, yeah. He was absolutely gorgeous. Tall and well built, just like you. There are only a few men in the world who are on your level."
Michael looked flattered. I, on the other hand, was feeling a bit inadequate. Wendy sensed this and turned to me.
"But you're good too, dear! You know, you're. . .you're cute. . .especially in the way you do things for me," She said this in such a sing-song way that it was painfully obvious that I was definitely not "well-built" but simply "cute" and I "do" things for her.
Turning back to Michael, "Thanks for the hair massage, it really relaxed me," and then Wendy pushed herself upward to meet Michael's lips with another friendly kiss. With her head still cocked backwards, she broke it off and whispered in her breathy voice, "Really, thank you" and kissed him again, even more passionate. Wendy sounded and acted like she had known Michael all her life, and if I didn't know better, you'd think they were the ones who were married, not us.
I was nervous. "Okay! Well, then. Umm. . . well, I guess that's it then! Michael, thanks for coming over and . . ."
"Wait," Wendy stopped me, "Michael's not leaving yet," as she looked at me sternly as if I was taking candy away from her. "Do you have to go?" she asked looking wide-eyed at him. Michael responded that he didn't.
"Good!" Then seizing on a thought in her head, "Hey, some of the girls at work said you're a terrific dancer. Is that true?"
Michael told her that he had been a dancer for some years and actually taught some dance steps at a local studio before he landed the job at their company.
"Oh my God, really? Would you dance with me, please." Wendy knows I'm a terrible dancer and relishes any chance to dance. She loves it. Michael willingly obliged to teach her some steps. Figuring we'd be staying a bit longer, I refreshed their daiquiris with the last of the batches--there was only enough left for two, so I went without another drink.
"Dear?" turning quickly to me, "move the table and chairs off to the side to give us some room. And put in that new compilation CD, you know, the one with all the different styles of music." Feeling again like my wife's servant, I moved the coffee table and Wendy's chair to give her and her "man friend" room to dance. I found the CD and put it into our stereo.
Michael found a tune that he liked and began showing Wendy some steps. They swirled and spinned, and on a few occasions Michael even dipped Wendy. They were having a lovely time. I had to admit they looked good together as I stood in the corner and watched.
They finished dancing to their 3rd or 4th song when Wendy went to get her strawberry daiquiris. "You know," she said to me with a sly smile, "these things really put me in the mood."
She chugged the last of her drink and gave me her 'I'm horny' look, "Honey, you better pour me another one!"
"Um, Wendy, haven't you already had 3 of those?" I asked, seriously wondering if she was going to get drunk.
"Yes! Yes I have!" she clamored. "But I'm feeling really, really good right now. I'm all warm inside--and not just from dancing with Michael! I don't want to loose this feeling so keep the drinks coming!"
"But . . ." as I tried to explain, Michael interrupted me just as a slow song started on the CD.
"I had better find a better song . . .," Michael said as he approached the stereo.
"Oh wait, wait! I love this song," Wendy said as she grabbed Michael's shoulder and turned him toward her. "It's so romantic, and I've always wanted to slow dance to this song--especially after a few strawberry daiquiris" she smiled widely. Wendy brought her face right up to Michael's whispering, "Will you dance with me?" And when Michael obliged, Wendy again thanked him with another gentle kiss on his lips.
Wendy and Michael began a very slow and romantic looking dance. Wendy's hands rested vertically on Michael's broad and tall shoulders, while Michael had his hands low on Wendy's back. Wendy looked so happy as she rested the side of her head against Michael's chest.
I tried to continue. "But . . .but we're out of daiquiris, Wendy. That was the last of the batch," I said softly and dramatically as I tried not to disturb her too much.
Raising her head slowly from Michael's chest, "Then hurry down to the corner store and get some more," she said, slightly annoyed by my message.
"It's 10:45, the corner store is closed. I think we have some beer in the refrigerator, would you like one of those instead?"
Wendy now looked at me with piercing eyes, "Honey," she paused sternly, "I would like another strawberry daiquiris. I'm feeling really special right now and I don't want it to end." Then she turned back and placed her head back against Michael's chest and they continued their slow dance.
Wendy turned back to me matter-of-factly, "Well, you'll just have to go to Murphy's and pick up some more mix."
"Murphy's?" I questioned.
Murphy's is the late night liqueur store that Wendy and I frequent on nights that we're out late on the town and need to bring home a nightcap. Murphy's is the only place in town that would still be open this late.
"But Wendy," I pleaded, "Murphy's is over 30 minutes away from us, it would be over an hour by the time I got back here!" Half of me thought she couldn't be serious, but the other half was becoming jaded after bearing witness to my wife's demanding actions tonight.
Wendy then turned up and met Michael's eyes, "I'm sure we'll think of something to do while your gone," smiling widely at him. Then in a deja vu event, they both turned to look at me, Wendy smiling with her head in his chest, and danced slowly and silently in a clear signal for me to get in the car and drive to Murphy's.
Miffed, I grabbed my coat and keys and proceeded to head out the door. I passed by the TV room and glanced over Wendy and Michael still dancing to the slow tune. Wendy had her left arm wrapped around Michael's waist, and her other hand was holding the back of his head with Michael's hair combed through her fingers. I couldn't be sure but it looked like Wendy was about to embrace him in another kiss.
"Ok, I'm off," I yelled purposely trying to interrupt them, "you guys just keep on dancing and I'll see you in an hour or so." I got no response as I closed the front door behind me.
I was a bit nervous leaving them alone like that but I new Wendy was just a flirt--harmless fun.
Murphy's had the mix and alcohol that I needed, and even though I drove as fast as possible, I took an hour and 15 minutes to get back home.
As I approached the house, I saw a dark car moving past my driveway. As it passed, I looked and saw a male figure that looked a lot like Michael. I parked the car and went inside.
"Hi guys," I announced, "I'm back with goodies!" It was now past midnight and all was quiet inside--no music, no TV. I came to an empty TV room and called out again for Wendy.
"In here," came her tired sounding voice, "I'm in the bedroom."
I approached the bedroom and found Wendy lying on the bed--which was still made but uncharacteristically messy. "What are you doing in here?" I asked. "Where's Michael?"
"Oh, he had to leave. In fact, he just left," she said, sighing pleasantly.
"I think I just saw him," I responded. "I thought you wanted to stay up and drink some more?"
Wendy looked at me and stretched on the bed. She looked so sexy, but I couldn't help noticing her top was un-tucked from her skirt. "Well, we did, but got very tired about 10 minutes ago."
"Still dancing, huh" I mused.
"Yes. . . we danced. . .we talked and, well. . ." she again stretched on the bed and turned over on her stomach resting her head on her arms, "he really knows how to treat a woman." Wendy was smiling to herself with her eyes closed, in almost a dreamy-like state.
I noticed that Wendy's lipstick was very smudged--must have been from the drinks.
"Well, I know how to treat a woman too, ya know," I said as I tried to show my bravado that, on this night, seemed to pale in comparison to Michael's.
Wendy opened her eyes and looked over to me. With a knowing smile she said "I know you're probably really horny, but I'm really tired and I'd just like to go to sleep."
"But what about the strawberry daiquiris?" I said sadly.
"Oh they did the trick," she giggled. "I just don't think I can stay awake any longer. Go put the that stuff away and join me in bed," she said as she pulled back the bedding and began to slip off her clothes--pulling down her skirt first and then unbuckling her heels. Wendy is so incredibly sexy.
I put the mix and alcohol away and joined Wendy in the bedroom. I undressed, hit the lights and climbed in next to her.
Wendy was resting on her back, so I rolled on my side next to her and began caressing her stomach as I kissed her cheek. "You sure you don't want some of this stud!" I whispered sweetly to her as I moved my hand down across the top of her panties. Her panties were surprisingly moist. I figured it must be from the combination of her excitement early in the evening and all the dancing she did when I was away.
"Wow, you're all wet, you sure you're not horny?"
"No, baby," Wendy whispered softly, her eyes still closed, "I was . . .earlier, but not any more," as her voice trailed off in a very satisfied tone.
Wendy moved my hand away from her panties and motioned me to roll over facing away from her. She then snuggled up behind me and placed her hand gently on my rock hard penis.
She stroked me a few times, then tickled my shaft and balls.
"I had a wonderful time tonight, hon," she whispered.
"I know you did, I'm glad" I responded.
"I'm glad you feel that way," Wendy perked up.
"Michael wanted me to ask you if it's all right if he continues my dance lessons at his place Monday night. I know you watch football on Monday night so I figured it would be great if you drop me off at Michael's for those 3 hours so we can continue where we left off." Wendy continued to tickle the shaft of my penis with her nails.
"That's okay with you, right dear?" she continued, "It would make me so happy if you'd do that for me."
"Well, I guess so," I responded, "you seem so happy with your new friend."
"I am dear, thank you." Wendy nestled up in her pillow and stroked me a few more times. "Yes," she continued, "he's my new favorite 'man friend!'"
As I contemplated our evening I couldn't help but wonder if my friends were right. "Nope," I said to myself, I know my wife and she's simply the flirty personality type. Nothing more.
Wendy stopped stroking and drifted off to sleep. I closed my eyes. How lucky I am to have snared such a playful and exciting wife. I'm sure she'll have a great 3 hour time with Michael on Monday night--I'm mean, it's just dancing . . .
. . . and perhaps a friendly kiss or two . . .
Lizbeth
- 06.09.2021
- 20
- 0
