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Is fantasy meant to cross the reality barrier? Aren’t some things better left unsaid and undone? At some stage in the last two years I decided that I wanted to find out all there is to be found out, only I didn’t let my wife in on it.
We’re like every other normal married couple — we love sex, and it when we get around to doing it we ask ourselves why we don’t do it more. The answer? Life gets in the way. And as for me, I subscribe to the ‘normal guy’ label in that I love everything about women, and the thought of seeing my wife with another woman. But because we’re very open and honest about sex, I knew full-well that she had absolutely no tendencies in this area.
We’d had a few ‘soft-swing’ episodes with another couple, and one night when I was away the woman from the couple went down on my wife, but it was a drunken fumble, and the word was that it was ‘deeply uncomfortable.’ Maybe if I’d have seen it with my own two eyes, I wouldn’t have pursued the fantasy like I have. Whenever I began questioning my motives, the image of a very attractive woman licking my wife’s cunt spurred me on.
We’re no strangers to pornography, and many an amazing fuck has been sparked by the sight of two people on screen, or stories that captured our imaginations and passion. So I sat down and thought of her true passion, and knew that dancing was the key to me achieving my goal.
She is an amazing dancer, so good in fact, that the best dancers in the club gravitate towards her. And she knows it. When she dances, she stops being the attractive, open-minded, gregarious woman, and becomes sensual, funky, and undeniably hot. Do I get jealous of the attention she gets? Maybe, but no one with the ability to move like she does will be a wall flower, and the knowledge that I’m the beneficiary of all of that pent up energy keeps things in perspective.
I’m quite possibly the worst dancer in the world, but thanks to Emily, I have learned to appreciate the art and the power of dance. Thanks to this, I’ve been more comfortable moving into her world, and whilst I’ll never be able to abandon myself to music as she does, I can do my own thing and enjoy watching others. Watching. I defy anyone to go to a club and watch sexy people ‘virtually fucking’ on the dance floor. I’d look from my wife to other women losing themselves in the music, and I would get the sensation of being a voyeur — when you’re not dancing, are you allowed to watch so intently? Is that the province of those taking part?
One night we were looking on the Internet for clubs with a difference, and we found one called Fleshart which promised funky beats and a sensual vibe. When she looked at the gallery she got the look in her eye that tells me she has left the real world behind. We talked about it, she said that it sounded like the best mix of dancing and wickedness, so I made a mental note to take this a little further.
Three weekends later, when life had lived up to its reputation and made us slaves to the every day, I organised with friends to look after our two young children and told Emily we were going out, and that we were going dancing.
“I think you mean I’ll be doing the dancing, and you’ll be drooling over the half naked women dry humping on the dance floor.” She said.
I agreed sheepishly, because she was spot on as usual. She only ever wears trousers when she dances, but the top she wore clung to her and made her look every inch the dancer she was — lithe, graceful with a very latent energy. Her dark auburn hair framed her face, and just a hint of make up around the eyes drew you right into her soul. I knew that she would be getting a lot of attention tonight, I just hoped that my hunch would pay off.
Having researched the club further I found that the club was a favourite for those who enjoy the more risqué side of life. The Saturday night we chose was geared towards couples ‘who love to play.’ I banked on the fact that Emily wouldn’t have thought twice about the club since the night we found it.
I booked a hotel on the outskirts of London’s trendy Shoreditch area, and we checked in before moving on to the club. Emily was showing signs of nerves, she kept wringing her hands and couldn’t relax.
Wine to the rescue.
Now, red wine would have meant a night in, because it has a direct link to her clitoris. One glass and she’s all over me, so instead I had a chilled Pinot Gricio ready to calm the nerves. And it worked perfectly. By the illegal bahis time we walked the short distance to the club, Emily was in her element and looking forward to the evening.
The club was incredible. Think of deep reds, velvets, golds, moody lighting and music that seemed to come from everywhere, and from the knowing grin of the doorman when he checked us off his list to the dark buxom woman taking our coats, I knew we were in the right place.
It wasn’t pumping, that’s reserved for hot sweaty commercial clubs, this place was better described as writhing. There was so much sex in the air, people on the floor were entwined — all dressed, but all lost in obvious lust. Emily and I made our way to the floor and she began to do her thing. This was the way it worked — I would accompany her, and within half a song, she would be set, and I became surplus to requirements.
As if on cue, a group of incredibly good looking black people materialised and gave an appreciative signal to Emily who returned the secret gesture — but I knew my place in her world, and it wasn’t in the middle of the dance floor. I retreated to a booth at the edge of the action and began to drink beautiful wine and play my part — watching.
I’d had half a bottle to myself when I noticed a shapely brunette noticing Emily. At one stage Emily checked that I was okay with the most subtle of glances, but not subtle enough for Ms Brunette. I failed to notice her leave the dance floor, engrossed instead in the show being put on by a beautiful blonde woman whose micro skirt kept riding up revealing something that looked a whole lot like nothing underneath. I was cursing the darkness when I felt someone slide into the booth next to me. Thinking it was Emily I looked around smiling only to find Ms Brunette smiling mischievously back at me.
“Hi.” She said simply.
“Hi” I replied.
“What are you doing?” she asked expectantly.
“People-watching.” I replied.
“Can I play?”
“Uh, sure” I said. “I dance terribly, so I get my kicks watching.”
“Brilliant”, she said. “I love dancing, but I love watching, too.”
With this, she came and sat near the side of the booth so we could both get a good view of the dance floor. I couldn’t help but notice her boobs, they were all-too prominent in the low cut filmy top, and I could see what looked like an expensive black bra holding her in place. Naturally she caught me looking, but when I met her gaze she smiled.
“Ahem” I said, clearing my throat. “As I said — I like to look.”
“It’s what they’re there for” she said, and we began to watch the show.
Without looking at me, she asked me what I looked for, and what I liked. It was strange confessing intimate thoughts to someone I didn’t know, but this wasn’t a normal situation.
“I love women of all shapes. On nights like this, I like overt sex. I love seeing boobs bursting out, I love seeing knickers, I love seeing eyes closed in lust and lips full and red from arousal.”
She took it all in, before asking me to point out people I like. I looked for a while and pointed out the blonde from earlier.
“No point looking for knickers there”, she said “She’s not wearing any.”
At my quizzical glance she said “I like the same things you do, but more than anything, I like sensuality — someone who can dance and move, someone who exudes sex a lot more than some of these women here with everything on display.”
At which point her gaze fell on my wife. “Like her. She is so fucking beautiful. Look at her move, she is pure liquid. Hot liquid.” She had the look in her eye that Emily got when she went ‘elsewhere’. As she looked she reached out for my hand and pushed it into her bra, where I found a very hard, very excited nipple. I squeezed lightly, and when I felt the time was right, I pinched her harder, bringing forth a gasp, but she wouldn’t break the gaze she had fixed on Emily. I looked at Emily who was dancing between two tall, muscular black guys, and it was so obvious what scenario they were acting out. One moved in behind her as she squatted low with the music and ground into her whilst bringing his hands up around her, while the other towered over her — his groin right in her face. And Emily — the woman who never really went in for oral — played right along.
“She wants them to fuck her”, Carla breathed. “Ohmigod, she really wants to be fucked by both those illegal bahis siteleri guys. I’ll bet she’s already so wet.” She was almost whispering now, and she had graduated from having me squeeze her nipple to rubbing both of her boobs, free of their constraints now, and her dress had ridden up enough to allow me a perfect view of her tiny black thong. I couldn’t believe what was happening. I felt drunk and high in one — adrenalin was raging through me at the realisation that Emily was virtually acting out her favourite fantasy, and that this gorgeous woman in the booth was getting herself off watching her.
She stopped suddenly and left the booth, leaving me to think about where all this was going. I didn’t have to wait long to find out. She appeared on the floor and made a line straight for Emily and her suitors. Then she began to move, and Emily’s attention was wrenched from the men as she took in this woman in full flight. The black guys hung back a little, obviously in awe of such out and out sex on the dance floor, and I just watched in hope.
Carla moved in to Emily and danced close. Emily’s no stranger to raunchy dancing, and had danced with women a million times, so she didn’t show any signs of concern. A very funky track came on, and like they were performing a perfectly choreographed routine, the two women got low down and dirty. At one point I noticed Carla move around behind Emily and do her share of grinding, and Emily reciprocated in kind, and for a split second Carla’s hand went in the vicinity of her breast, and I noticed a jolt go through Emily. It was momentary, though, as Carla then moved around to the front and put Emily back in control. She locked eyes on Emily and followed her every move, mirroring the sensuality, but I noticed the tiniest of touches to Emily’s arms, the backs of her elbows, the small of her back.
My view was then blocked by a couple moving right into my line of vision, and when I looked back, Emily and Carla were no longer there, and nor were the guys. At which point the jealousy kicked in. I fought it, I told myself what she was going through was no different to what I had just experienced in the booth. I was losing the battle, the mist was clearing fast in my head when I heard Emily at my shoulder.
“This place is in-fucking-credible” she stated.
“Glad you like it” I said.
“Where are your friends?” I asked.
“Not sure, but I think there’s someone who wants to be a special friend of ours.”
I went to answer, but she gestured that I shouldn’t speak, as if that would take away the magic of it all. Instead she sat down, slipped her hand beneath the waist band of her trousers and plunged her fingers in the direction of her cunt. When she withdrew her hand, she held up two very glistening fingers, one of which she put in my mouth, then the other went straight into her own.
“I came out there” She said. It was like a bolt of lightning — I just came so hard out of nowhere.”
She reached down, took my dick out of my trousers and — checking briefly that no-one was watching, began sucking me deeply. It was incredible, it was the best, but I knew I wanted to wait, so I brought Emily up for air. She was licking her lips when Carla appeared at the entrance to the booth.
“Room for three?” she asked without waiting for an answer — she moved in beside Emily.
“You are beautiful” she said, I’m sorry if I got a little forward out there, but when I see true beauty, I have to have it. You two make a great couple, and I want to watch you together.”
I never even got a chance to check with Emily — she was on me, kissing me hard. I was so turned on, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Carla with one leg on the sofa, rubbing in small, hard circles around her knicker-covered clit.
“I want to be fucked now” Emily said. “Everywhere. Every hole, I want to be fucked and filled”. I had never heard her speak like this, and with the knowledge that it may never happen ever again, I made the most of it. I reached up to cup her breast only to find a hand already there. I looked down to see the deep vee in Emily’s top was pulled aside to show her beautiful breast marked red by the rough treatment she was receiving at the hands of the hungry Carla.
“Oh my God” Emily muttered into my mouth, “She’s touching me, and I don’t want her to stop. Do you hate me?” There was a pleading in her eyes as I smiled down at her, and I noticed her trousers being canlı bahis siteleri undone and moved down her thighs.
“You are too beautiful, Emily” whispered Carla. “Let me play”. As she said this, she gained access to Emily’s knickers, and then she stopped, staring me in the eye over Emily’s shoulder. I will never forget that moment — time stood still, I forgot to breathe, and I just took it in: Emily was holding aside her knickers so I could see her deep red cunt, wet, flowing, and waiting, as Carla’s fingers inched towards it.
“Nathan, I’m about to put my fingers in your wife. Ohhhhh, there it is — ohhhh she is so wet, she is pure liquid. Come for me, Emily”
And she did — long and hard, with deep bass throbbing in the background, my wife ground down on this stranger’s fingers, at which point I noticed her left hand was bent behind her, and I could’ve died when I saw her finger disappear under Carla’s knickers and into her cunt.
“Aaaaahhhhh, Ohhhh, Emily — you didn’t need to — this is for you, this is you we’re celebrating, this — Ooooooohh” and despite my wife’s inexperience in Sapphic matters, the moment and the madness combined to make Carla climax and fall back on the booth cushions.
I pushed Emily back on the cushions and began licking her nipples, and once Carla had regained her composure she was there kissing her deeply whilst lightly tracing circles around Emily’s incredibly sensitive nipples. Emily was in heaven, and she allowed herself to ride the wave of lust and hold back any thoughts of rationality. We stayed that way, occasionally swapping places for Carla to pay homage to Emily’s breasts with her tongue.
I looked up and noticed we had a small audience — the two men from the dance floor. They were mesmerised, and didn’t at first notice my gesture. But when they received the message, the first moved towards us hesitantly, and I silently nodded. He brought his cock out and I was relieved to see it was big without being huge, but I didn’t have time to make too much of a judgement because it was soon inside Emily to the hilt. She bucked against it and came immediately, and carried on coming as he slammed slowly into her. Carla pulled her breast out from the confines of her bra and placed it to the side of Emily’s face as she writhed, and sensing it, Emily opened her mouth and sucked deeply on Carla’s nipple, while taking hold of me and masturbating me expertly. As the tension built Emily lost interest in us as she moved in perfect unison with the tall muscular man. Carla came around to my side and pushed my head into her boobs.
“Oh my god this is hot, tell me this isn’t the most incredible thing” she said as she fed herself to me. We were watching Emily being fucked as I felt a warm wetness descend on me — Carla was fucking me, and it was out of this world. Emily opened her eyes and looked at me, taking the situation in, and smiled — causing me to fall in love with her all over again, and to lose my composure as I came with such ferocity it left me shaking — locked in a stare with Emily the whole time.
When I looked up I saw Emily’s man grimace as if in pain and in one swift movement he withdrew and shot steam after stream of cum all over Emily’s stomach, and in the meantime Carla had taken her leave of me and was busily sucking the cock of the second member of our audience. I bent down and kissed Emily deeply, longingly, tenderly, as I realised that something special had taken place tonight. I knew in my heart of hearts that it was probably a once-in-a-lifetime event, but that didn’t dampen the sensations raging through me. We looked up just in time to see Carla straightening herself up and preparing to leave. She smiled, and wiggled her fingers in a wave.
“What’s there to say?” She said. And with that she left. The men had disappeared, leaving just Emily and me in the shadows of the booth.
“Come on” I said. “The dance floor’s empty, everyone’s gone – it’s my turn to dance”.
Fittingly it was a slow song which allowed us just to hold each other and sway, without me having to expose myself as the terrible mover that I am. It was a beautiful moment, and I just moved with her, thinking of nothing, feeling everything.
Back at our hotel, we slept. In the morning we made love slowly, both thinking back to the night before, but both concentrating on keeping this connection between the two of us. When it was time to check out, it was like we had stepped out of a different world, and into reality.
As we drove, we were silent. Ray Lamontagne was singing ‘Shelter’, and light rain was falling.
“Thank you, you” She said.
“For what? I asked.
She just smiled and turned her attention to the road.
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