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Hi. We’re a real hotwife couple and have been living this lifestyle for over three years now.
I’d like to share one of the stories about how it all began for us. She’s a tall, long-legged brunette with a nice, firm butt, long legs, and a very pretty face (I suspect it’s because her ancestry traces back to the Slavs). We always love going out and dressing up. Since we’re from Europe, we prefer elegant classics… with an Italian touch. Basically, every time we go to a bar, restaurant, café, or out with friends, my wife dresses to the nines to make a real “dress to impress” statement.
Specifically, this always means makeup, red or pink lipstick, short skirts or dresses, tights or stockings (when she’s in a playful mood, she always wears stockings), and heels. To say that guys look at her every time we go out is an understatement. I always get a ton of compliments, and so does she—about what a wonderful wife I have and how lucky I am to be with her (well, of course—if only you knew what a hot wife she is).
On one of our bar crawls around town, we walked into an underground bar with an alternative rock vibe. There was blue neon lighting, two other patrons, and a very charismatic bartender (straight out of a Blade movie) dressed in bar-themed attire. We decided to stay and try the beer there. As it turned out, we took a liking to this bartender; there was something mysterious and enigmatic about him that touched our hearts, and we decided to go back there again. The next time we went there, my wife dressed like a total slut.(a thong, a lingerie set, stockings, a garter belt, her best heels, red lipstick and smoky eyes, a leather miniskirt, and a snakeskin-print blouse).
I asked why she was dressed like that, and she said she just wanted to get lots of compliments tonight. Since it was Tuesday, I figured there might only be a few people there at the bar, including the bartender himself. As soon as we arrived, things turned out even better (for her)—there were practically no other customers, and it was just the three of us. Me, my wife, and the bartender. The bartender decided to treat us to a night of strong drinks, and within two hours we were already pretty drunk; the bartender himself was drinking beer, which was pretty light. It’s important to note one detail: when I start drinking, I often smoke. So every 15 minutes, I’d go outside to smoke and then come back down to the bar.
And each time, the way she was sitting became more and more revealing. Sometimes it was a crossed-leg pose, where the top of her stockings was fully visible, and other times she simply stretched her legs out across the entire table, which basically made it easy to see the color of her panties (they were red). The evening was getting hotter and more lively thanks to the alcohol, and at one point when I returned, I noticed that no one was there. I sat down and continued drinking my drink, thinking that both the bartender and my wife had gone to the restroom. I was right, but only partly. Four minutes later, I realized something was going on and decided to quietly go to the men’s restroom to see what was happening. There was no one there, so I headed to the women’s restroom. The first thing I heard was moaning. At that moment, the whole thing came as a complete shock to me, and it was as if I suddenly sobered up. But at the same time, something was stopping me from bursting in. I walked up quietly and cracked the door open, deciding to sneak a peek at what exactly was happening to my wife. The next thing I saw was my wife with her hands on the wall, her butt sticking out, and her legs spread wide; her skirt was hiked up, her thong pushed aside, and she was slowly and pleasurably impaling herself on the bartender’s big cock.
The first thing I noticed—and it calmed me down a bit—was that he was wearing a condom. I stood there watching as the bartender continued to fuck my wife like a whore in the bathroom, under the blue neon light, while she, in turn, moaned and enjoyed it. After that, the bartender abruptly turned her around, motioning for her to get on her knees, which my wife obediently did, and shoved his cock into her mouth, letting out a long moan as my wife took all his cum in her mouth. I quickly slipped out onto the street so they wouldn’t suspect I’d seen what had happened.
Outside, I smoked three cigarettes in a row. I went back downstairs; the bartender was behind the bar, and my wife decided to reapply some lipstick (she’d smudged it during the blowjob). I asked if everything was okay, but inside I was wildly aroused, and my cock was standing straight up like a pole. She said everything was fine, but she was a little tired and wanted to go home, also inviting the bartender to come over to our place next time for wine and snacks. He readily agreed. We said goodbye, called a taxi, and went home. The next morning, we had a conversation about what had happened, but that’s a completely different story.
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