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‘Who is this guy?” Janice asked, “Do I know him?”

“He’s in from Springfield and been here for the last two weeks. I think he’s an analyst or contractor they hired. I told you sales are down 10% from last year and he’s been…” He trailed off, a sick feeling in his stomach. “I’m sorry to spring this on you but I couldn’t say no.”

Janice laughed, “Sure you could have. ‘I’m sorry, my wife needs more notice. Perhaps Monday?’ or ‘Tonight is the night we reserve every month with our phones and TV off. We call it our renewal weekend,'” she spat. “Christ, Art, you know how every third Friday…fuck it, do I need to change? Stupid question. I’ll change into something…did he tell you what he’s wearing?”

Arthur Andrews looked at his ash-blonde wife dressed in clothes that closely matching those she was wearing when he’d first seen her. Tight shorts looking like they were painted on, her chest accentuated by a tight bandana halter top. She had incredible assets. Her breasts were perfect, not huge, but large enough and cone-shaped. He’d seen porn videos where they were called banana or torpedo tits, but whatever they were called they begged to be sucked on. When she was incredibly aroused her nipples hardened, sticking out a quarter inch. Her ass was also perfect and he’d buried his face between those cheeks many times before taking her from behind, her favorite position. She kept her pubes trimmed and when she opened her legs, the band of course dark fur framed her clam-shell pussy that opened like flower-petals when aroused.

It was right after both their senior years that she was working the donkey ride for the very young kids when he’d first set eyes on her. He’d made a point of walking by as much as he could, his date finally smacking him and striding off realizing what he was doing. Janice noticed and came over asking if he was all right. That night he’d dined on all her perfect assets and brought her to her first orgasm…the first of many. He never forgot kissing his way up her smooth thighs, her legs opening eagerly, and seeing nothing but a half-inch strip of demin covering her pussy. Then there was the tangy-sweet aroma of her arousal.

They’d been together ever since but five years ago after trying to get pregnant and being told Art was shooting blanks he’d gone into a funk. They’d tried therapy as Art couldn’t perform with any consistency anymore and that was getting to be a problem in their marriage. What came out of it was the suggestion to recreate their first weekend together, act out fantasy scenarios. Jan had joined a gym, not to lose weight but to get her muscle tone back to where it was when she was 18. Art joined her when he could, but he’d not been all that athletic to begin with.

This became something anticipated, planned out, and willingly followed by the unsuspecting participant. Various themes were, Art as a burglar; Janice in a bar looking to cheat; Janice captured by enemy forces and interrogated; Art sitting at a bar and approached by a hooker; Janice seducing Art’s boss, played by Art in a suit. They enjoyed all these, but mostly they returned to their first night after he’d picked her up at the fair. Art chose the theme odd months, Janice even.

It had worked and become a monthly event that got the juices going for the weeks after and the weeks ahead in anticipation. Neither knew what the other was planning until the morning of when they were told when, where, and how to dress. Art never wore his Stand-Up shorts and Yankee’s tees any other time and Janice reserved her tiny cut-offs and halter tops for the third Friday if that was what they chose. It was nice there wasn’t much there as Art always quickly removed it just like on their first encounter.

“He said for you to dress nice,” he stammered. “He said all he has are his custom-made suits. Look, we’ll still have tonight after he leaves and all weekend. I’ll make it up to you,” he sighed, “He told me after sitting with men day after day you’d be better on his eyes, so maybe something low-cut?”

“He what? Who is this guy? Oh yeah, you’ll make it up to me. I’m going to wear your mouth and cock out,” she glared at her husband. She’d felt herself getting wetter all day long thinking about changing into her outfit, his tongue and lips pleasing her, his hands gripping her ass as he drove into her from behind. It was another unproductive Friday knowing she’d be getting satisfied all weekend by her husband and now she’d have to curb her base appetites…on top of that, a total stranger was telling her how to fucking dress? “I’m of half a mind to call your brother and see if he has dinner plans,” she huffed.

“I know, but I really should tell you about the last two weeks,” Art sighed, “Hang on, I need something to drink.” He grabbed a Dr. Pepper from the fridge and sat down, “Ok, Monday, the 2nd, I get a call telling me I need to meet a man at the front desk and set him up in the Hotel office, you know, that spare office…anyhow…”


Art şişli üniversiteli escort got the call and headed down to the lobby. He wasn’t told a name or what the man looked like, but just one person was waiting. He had to be 6′ 6″, a very fit-looking 50-year-old with greying temples and a custom-made suit.

“Arthur Andrews, or Art,” he’d said holding out his hand as he looked up at the man. The handshake was very firm and held moments longer than he’d been used to as the man intently studied his face, his eyes.

“John Smith,” he’d said in a way daring Art to question it, “Where’s the office I’ll be using?” He finally released Art’s hand allowing him to lead the way to the elevators. ‘Decent handshake, not confident,’ he thought.

The first week Art had seen little of the man, but various co-workers had been in closed-door meetings all day with John. They’d had lunch delivered and outside of bio-breaks they never appeared. None would say a word about what they’d discussed, nor made the usual jokes about suits and often would take the following days off. He’d wondered if their whole department was getting fired when on Tuesday he’d received a calendar invite to meet in the Hotel office, Friday the 20th. He was instructed to cancel all conflicting meetings and appointments.

Friday morning he’d come in, his stomach in knots. After getting his coffee, he knocked on the office door.

The entire day was mostly a blur as Mr. Smith pulled out stacks of folders having Art explain how he handled this sales call and that meeting with a client. He was grilled about what was going on in his head and did he consider saying of doing something differently? He had to explain every option he’d had at those times.

The man plopped down the last folder, “Ok. I think we’ve covered the last year or so. I need to know more about you…you personally outside of work, married? Hobbies?” he looked at the ring.

“Yes, Janice. We’ve been married six years. We both love to bike and cook. Um, Mr. Smith?” He looked at his watch, “Is there much more? Jan is making dinner and…” he stopped seeing the man smile for the first time as he stood.

“Perfect. What time? I was about to suggest I take you and your wife out but getting to know a person in their home is much better.” he said as he looked down firmly at the shorter man still sitting.

“Um, 7. Sir? I’ll need to call her…” Art wondered if he’d ever get rid of the sharp pain in his gut.

“Excellent. I have your home address. I’ll be there at 6:30. Tell,” he looked down at his notes, “Janice to dress up,” he indicated his suit, “This is all I brought with me and I’d hate to be overdressed, plus no knock against your co-workers but I need something easier on the eyes. You might want to change also,” he’d said as he sat back down dismissing Art, “6:30. Have your wife get the door, I value first impressions. You can go.”


“Wow! He really said that? Does he always get his way?” she felt her nipples harden wondering if it was due to her being pissed or something else. “Ok, let me make sure the dishes are ready and I’ll change. I’d suggest turning on the grill when he gets here so it’ll be ready.”

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t expect our weekend to be…I couldn’t tell him no, could I?” He hugged his wife, stroking her back, “I know you’re pissed but this is important. You were an actress in school, act like you genuinely like him, ok? We’ll have him over, play nice then I’ll take you out to the hot tub and fuck you like you’ve never been fucked, ok? No making love or any of that crap,” he said feeling his cock throb in anticipation.

“Ooooohhhh, I like this side of you. Spending time with that man might have been a good thing, maybe invite him over more. You can use my panties to blindfold me,” she sighed, pressing her mound against his hardening cock and grinding back and forth. She pulled back and looked at Art, “Ok. I’ll play nice and send him off thinking how lucky you are going to get as soon as he’s gone, but I’m still pissed he ruined our weekend.” She patted the front of his pants, “Good thing you’re not going to answer the door,” she giggled.

She then thought about their weekend being ruined and scowled once more at her husband before heading down the hall to their bedroom. ‘First impression! Bullshit! The only reason for this man to have me open the door is so he can check out my body. No way was he going to study my eyes, blue, dammit, they’re blue!’ she remembered telling various men. Fuck this man! She’ll wear something comfortable, not revealing. Her breasts were not for anyone but Art. Then she thought about this man being on the road for a month and having to go back alone to his hotel room. She tossed the black dress on the floor and reached to the back of the closet.

Art came back in taksim anal yapan escort from the deck and stopped, “Holy shit! You can’t wear that! I can see your nipples, your tits…” he went over to push her back down the hall, “I mean if it were just us I’d be thrilled, but this shows off your entire body,” he hissed.

Janice blushed. She’d found the red cocktail dress she gotten for their honeymoon but never had the nerve to go out in it as she could not wear a bra and it outlined every part of her figure. “Shit! Ok, yes, sorry. I thought you wanted to send him out feeling frustrated,” she looked at her nipples, “I’ll go change…fuck!” They both turned hearing the doorbell.

Art groaned and nodded at his wife who went over and opened the door. He saw John standing over Janice looking her up and down. Not a word was spoken for at least 30 seconds when Janice finally spoke.

“You must be Mr. Smith. I’m Janice, or Jan. Come in,” she stepped back, her arm outstretched.

Art could see his wife’s nipples poking out fully erect and her chest was flushed. He had no idea how that was possible since it took him a while to get them like that and he’d assumed she was pissed at the man, or at least embarrassed that she was barely dressed.

“Call me John,” he smiled, “I’m surprised,” he said looking the slender woman up and down, his eyes staying on the jutting breasts clearly outlined through the silky material. “I assumed Art would have a fairly plain wife, but you’re a real knockout.” He looked over at Art, “So, nice house, very nice. I like the neighborhood. Looks very well maintained.” he said looking around, “I’m impressed, nice place,” he looked back at the woman, “very beautiful wife. It’s obvious you know how to close.”

Jan was blushing even more now but gathered herself, “Drink? We have various whiskeys, beer, wine…”

“Whiskey. Bourbon, that is.” He looked at the girl, “What are you drinking?”

“I like wine, Chardonnay,” she said, “Rocks? Neat?” she started for the kitchen.

“Neat. Art? What are you drinking,” John asked. “I feel we left you out.”

“He doesn’t drink, “Janice explained, “Never liked the taste nor the effects.”

“Nonsense! Get him a Bourbon, neat.” John glared at Art, “You better get over that if you’re in sales. You cannot embarrass the clients when you take them out by not drinking. Learn how to nurse a drink,” he ordered.

Art wanted to protest or to suggest a beer instead but watched Mr. Smith’s focus on his wife’s ass as she went to get the drinks. He knew what the man was checking. He couldn’t see any panty lines either so Janice was either wearing a thong or…Why don’t you come sit down?” Art indicated the couch. “I assume you had no issue finding our house. You were right on time,” he said lamely. He looked back at the kitchen wondering if he should help out his wife.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” the tall man said as he plopped down on the couch. “How long have you lived here? I like it, tasteful. Your wife decorated I assume?”

“She did a lot. All this, the master bedroom and bath. I designed and had the back deck done. Built-in gas grill, hot tub, I even put in a putting green,” Art said proudly.

“I’ll have to check it out. It sounds great. I’m sure being married to Janice you use the hot tub a lot,” Mr. Smith said matter-of-factly as he studied the ass disappearing around the corner. Muscular, no visible fat, he thought.

Janice entered the kitchen and pressed on her nipples willing them to relax causing her knees to buckle. ‘Shit! We need to get this man out of the house soon.’ She thought back to how the man looked at her and realized this was the first man to make her feel like she was truly undressed by his eyes. There had been no need to wear this dress as it was as if he had x-ray vision. He knew how quickly she was aroused under his scrutiny, he flashed that quick smirk. Did he know he’d caused her arousal, her excitement? Did he like how she looked naked under his gaze? She gasped at the thought, ‘I hope he approved,’ went through her head. ‘Where did that come from?’ she wondered.

Finally, she took the tray with the drinks out to the living room. “Here you go, I hope you like it. It was a gift from Art’s brother. Bulliet Bourbon. I guess it’s very potent.” She handed one to John and one to her husband. She sat next to the older man who’d patted the cushion next to him before looking over at her husband as he shuddered slightly after taking a sip, “I never thought I’d see the day you would be holding a drink. I’ve always hated drinking alone. How is it?”

“Interesting. A lot sweeter than I thought it would be, but not bad,” he took another sip letting the liquid seemingly evaporate on his tongue. “It sure clears the nostrils,” he smiled over at his wife, but Janice had turned to look at Mr. Smith who’d asked her a question. He took another sip thinking it wasn’t as bad as he’d taksim bdsm escort always thought but could taste the high alcohol content. He put it down not wanting to be one of those guys who got drunk and did and said stupid things.

Janice felt those eyes strip her bare again and tried to focus on responding to his questions about growing up, school, and her youth. He asked innocuous questions, but he studied her face, her breasts, and her legs as she responded. A lot of the questions were about her growing up, her physical activities, outdoor things…any sports? She told him she was on her college’s tennis team.

“I’ll bet you were really good, long arms, long legs. I’ll bet you move well. Would you like to play?” he asked. When she nodded, looking eager, he smiled, “That’s great, what are you doing tomorrow? I have to stay another couple of weeks and there are tennis courts over at RockMore Resorts. I’ve been looking out my window at them and they are always empty,” he said.

Janice looked over at her husband, “Yes. Art doesn’t play and I’ll be really rusty but it would be good to hit a few,” she looked thoughtful, “Art, would you mind? I mean, we…” She thought about their destroyed weekend and spending it with this man was not part of the plan and looked apologetically over at her husband.

“He can watch,” John smiled at them, “the courts have a bar but I suppose if you don’t drink or play…”

“Go. We’ll do, um…our thing next weekend. I need to put in the storage units in the garage anyhow.” He saw her hesitation, “It will be fine. You haven’t played in years and I’ve seen you taking the racquet out and just swinging it.”

They agreed to meet in the morning after John called to reserve a time. Then she answered questions about her matches, her ranking, and all and other activities in school. All seemed innocent up until John slowly got more personal.

Art jerked his head up. Did he ask that? He looked at his wife expecting her to shut this line of questioning down, but she looked like she was trying to remember. She told him about puberty, playing sports, and beating most of the boys, not being fully aware she was a girl until after she turned 18.

I thought I’d be flat until halfway through my senior year months after I turned 18. Not sure why that age made my boobs grow, but I wasn’t complaining. All of a sudden the sports changed, I seemed to be tackled more enthusiastically, no longer by the legs but up high. I found I had to wear bras when running but otherwise…” She looked over at her husband, “I soon found out what I had and started wearing thinner tighter tops,” she giggled, “There was something about seeing the boys and the men no longer look past me but at me that I liked. Of course, none could pick me out of a line-up with just my face, but it’s nice to be appreciated.”

John nodded, his eyes still on Janice’s breasts then drained the last of his drink and looked over at Art who jumped up offering to refill it.

Art took Janice’s glass when she held hers out and headed to the kitchen. As he was leaving he heard another question making him stop and listen to her answer to ‘When did you first get a boy excited? Was it on purpose or accidental?’

“Accidental. At the homecoming dance. He wasn’t my date, but I’d worn the first dress that showed cleavage and I was pretty excited about wearing it. I was dancing with Tim a friend I’d known since elementary school and felt it. I mean really felt it,” she giggled. “He was so embarrassed and tried to pull away from me, but I wanted to feel it, feel how hard it got, I mean it hit me right here,” she pressed her hand on her crotch. “I couldn’t believe it was so hard, I mean like a rock or steel rod,” she sighed. She looked at John, “So not the first one I ever saw or touched, but the first erection I’d ever caused. That was hot. It was then I was determined to see one live, make it hard on purpose.”

Art’s head was swimming, from the whiskey or the intimate conversation Janice was having with a man she’d met 20 minutes ago he didn’t know, but he had to lean against the counter and take deep breaths. He finally gathered himself and refilled the glasses, “Here you go. Janice, we need to start grilling the steaks and get dinner,” he said.

As she started to get up, John put a hand on her thigh, “I’d prefer someone keep me company, someone beautiful and intelligent. Can he handle it?”

Janice looked between the two men. Art looked distressed, perhaps the first whiskey he’d ever had, or…she looked where her husband’s eyes were. John’s large hand was still on her thigh, casually stroking the bare skin high up her leg. John had a look that seemingly dared either of them to object. “Sure, sweetie, you’ll be ok, right? There’s the casserole in the oven that should be done in about,” she looked at her watch, “8 minutes.”

Art sighed, pulling his eyes away from the man’s hand within inches of his wife’s privates. “How do you like your steak?” he asked, “Jan and I like ours rare, so…”

“Rare,” John looked down where his hand was, “Bright pink and juicy,” his fingers flicked across her crotch as he said it. “So just like yours,” he said looking directly at Janice, “So, how about the first time you touched a cock? Did you initiate or did he? Were you intimidated by it?”

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