We Find Our Groove in the Big Easy

[vulvation]

The overall story is fiction, but most of the details come from real life experiences. I hope you enjoy! Comments, suggestions and corrections are always welcome
 
As is often the case, it started with a kiss. I was standing at the nearly empty hotel bar, a bottle of Abita in hand, enjoying the air conditioning as it dried off the sweat of a sweltering June day spent walking the French Quarter of New Orleans. My gaze drifted from the sportswriters bantering on the TV above the bar, and I saw Laurel walking across the lobby. She'd gone up to our room to change, telling me that the heat was just too much. She just had to get out of the short sleeved top and shorts she was wearing and into something even less restricting. 

In her mid thirties, my wife of twelve years still had the power to catch my eye and quicken my heart, even after two kids and all the trials and tribulations that a life lived together has to offer. Her new attire - a strapless summer sun dress that highlighted her hard-won body in all the right ways - just accentuated my desire. I felt my groin swell a bit as I took in the view, from her high heeled pumps all the way to her sparkling, mischievous brown eyes, framed by a face flushed a bit red from too much sun (or so I assumed) and her short, pixie cut brown hair. 

She quickly crossed the distance between us and melted against me in that way women do - the surrender of the softness of their bodies that signals submission, offers sweet, seductive things - and lightly brushed her lips across mine. A subtle kiss, but one that lingered with promise and the taste of Pinot Noir - probably from the bottle we'd opened but hadn't quite finished the night before, passing out after the first glass, exhausted from five hours of flying. My mind wondered a bit about this. Laurel was no teetotaler, but she rarely drank alone. As my thoughts raced, she leaned into me even more deeply and whispered into my ear.

"I'm not wearing anything under this dress..."

Ah...liquid courage, then.

I slid my hand down the small of her back, resting just on the curve of her ass. A little indecent, but not pornographic - more than enough to confirm the lack of a panty line, though, under the sheer, light fabric of the sun dress. She moved under my hand, against my body, a tease, a suggestion, and then she slid away.

"Let's go! The music starts at seven and I know how you hate to be late..."

She winked at me over her shoulder as she sauntered out the door. I quickly quaffed my beer and followed her out, back into the heat and humidity. 

June is never the best month to visit the Crescent City, but our job schedules demanded summer vacations, and New Orleans had become our favorite place to go and step out of the world. The kids were spending a week in the country with my parents, and we were alone and as close to stress free as we'd been in a decade or more. Our gift to ourselves: six nights in a nice hotel on Chartres Street in the northeastern section of the French Quarter - just outside of the excess of Bourbon Street, but close enough to all our favorite spots and within easy walking distance of our Mecca, the jazz clubs on Frenchman's Street.

The clubs were our destination that night, and after a short jaunt down Chartres and across Esplanade we were in line to pay the cover at d.b.a. John Boutté was playing, so there was a bit of a crowd. I noticed the bouncer's eyes checking out Laurel's cleavage as she dug in her purse to pull out the cash. When he saw that I'd caught him staring, he gave me a wink and a big lazy grin as he stamped my wrist.

"You got one fine lookin' woman there my friend," he said. "I seen women wit' dat look in dare eye...she gonna give you a special night tonight, she is."

I mumbled an embarrassed thanks and quickly moved into the dark atmosphere inside the club. I paused for a moment to let my eyes adjust and Laurel again whispered in my ear, "I heard what the bouncer said to you...and he's right." She kissed me again, that fleeting promise, and then headed for the bar. d.b.a. has a really nice bottle selection for a music club, and we both ordered up some local craft brews and then found a spot to stand and wait for the music to start. It wasn't long until the band came out, and soon Boutté was singing. 

It was a typical crowd, tourists and locals, young and old, some dancing, some flirting, some just sitting and nursing their beers and enjoying the show. Laurel and I stood and swayed to the music and drank our beers, her in front, pressed up against me, her ass doing amazing things inside that sheer sun dress. My wandering hands made their way all over her body, but when they got a little too fresh there was always a nudge to a safer place...I could tell she wanted to draw this out. My cock jumped a bit every time she pressed back into me - it was self evident that she felt my hardness and knew what she was doing to me, and from the way she moved as she did it, it was obvious she was having fun too.

There was a tension in her shoulders, though, that told me she had something else on her mind, something that was keeping her from being totally loose, despite all the beers. As the music picked up tempo, she pulled me aside. "Tamm...," she said, words obviously failing her, "just...well, I know you want this...and I'm finally ready to try it again, I think." I followed her gaze down as she slipped her wedding ring off her finger and zipped it safely in the change pocket of her clutch purse.

I kissed her, then, a wordless acknowledgement of what she was offering. I had been a wild child in college, and when we started dating I briefly pulled her into that lifestyle, but a bad experience and her need for a stable, monogamous relationship had led to her asking me to make a choice, and I chose her. We had a typical sex life as a married couple - sometimes mind-blowing, sometimes a little blasé, but I never regretted that decision for a minute. There was always a longing there, though, and even a few aborted and clumsy attempts to get Laurel to change her mind...finally leading to another promise that I'd never bring it up again.

This was unexpected. This was amazing.

"Just don't make me regret this," she said, and then she downed her beer and moved out into the dance floor, leaving me standing there, surprised, pleased, and hard as a rock. 

I watched her dance, then, taking to the floor with practiced ease. She spent her childhood dancing and teaching dance, while I was always the guy that was a beat off and a step behind. It was always a revelation to watch her in her element, without me to slow her down. The tension was gone from her shoulders now, and she was immersed in the beats of the upright base, moving with the sultry promise of Boutté's voice. 

There weren't many single men in the crowd, but as she danced a group of slightly older guys came in. They looked like business travelers, dressed in the uniform - Brooks Brothers to the nines, clean shaven, well maintained salt and pepper hair cut conservatively and well styled, probably in town for a conference. Not Laurel's type, typically, but when the set ended she made her way to the bar for another drink, and as she was waiting I saw one of the men, a shorter but well put together guy, start talking to her. I was too far away to hear the conversation, but I could tell it was going well. She was touching his hand, then his hand was resting on her thigh, and then the music picked up again and she pulled him out onto the dance floor.

The band started up with a sensuous clarinet number, and they danced together slow and tight. My 6' frame can leave something to be desired when matched up with Laurel's relatively short 5'4" when dancing a slow number, and I could tell she was enjoying the opportunity to dance with someone face to face. He was clearly enjoying things too, his hands pressing her to him starting at the middle of her back, then slowly working their way down her hips until he was in position to realize what I had earlier - that it was remarkably easy to tell what she wasn't wearing under that light summer fabric. 

I saw a spark in his eye as he leaned into her and said something directly into her ear. She said something back, then pointed in my direction. I made a lazy wave and gave a wink. He didn't seem at all nonplussed, which surprised me a bit but also gave me a thrill - this was going to happen. If all went well, in short period of time I was going to see my wife, the mother of our children, be intimate with another man.

Adrenaline was pounding through my body as the two of them walked over to where I was standing by the wall. It was too loud to talk on that side of the club, so we made our way over to the other side (separated from the band and dance area by a wall), grabbed some more beers and sat down in a booth along the wall as far from the action as we could be, them on one side and me on the other. Laurel's new friend was named Ron, and he was attending a three day business retreat. This was the third and last night - he would be flying back to California in the morning. 

As we chatted I noticed that Laurel was getting more flushed, and I noticed Ron's arm was moving subtly beneath the table. The conversation ground to a halt, and then Ron, noticing the silence, placed his hand on the table. His fingers were very, very obviously wet with Laurel's juices. "I think your wife likes me," he said. "Why don't we take this to someplace more private?"

The four block walk back to our hotel was the longest moment of drawn out tension of my life. Back out in public, Laurel had pulled in on herself a little, and I could tell that she was having second thoughts. She and I led and Ron walked behind, hoping, I imagine, that this wouldn't be all for naught.

When we got to our room Ron asked if he could take a moment to freshen up (and presumable to give us time to talk - he was good like that, and we would find out later that he was an experienced swinger). "You can back out any time," I said to Laurel as soon as the door to the bathroom closed. "I don't want you to feel like you have to do this for me, and I don't want it to hurt our relationship."

"I'm just nervous," she replied. "But I'm excited too, and I know how much you fantasize about this. I don't know if I'll ever get up the courage to do this again, so if you want this, stop talking!" She kissed me, then, no teasing this time, just that kind of deep, passionate, familiar kiss that only two longtime lovers can share. Then she dropped to her knees and pulled my cock out of my pants.

As she slowly took my cock into her mouth, staring up into my eyes, Ron came out of the bathroom. I saw a look of relief pass briefly across his face, and then he wordlessly started to strip. He was in good shape, lightly muscled but not wiry, with a nice sized cock, just a bit shorter than my own six inches, but thicker. He knelt down beside Laurel and began to rub her back, just touching her, making her comfortable with the touch of another man on her body. His hands slowly made their way down until he had hiked up her skirt and was massaging her ass, then I felt her muffled gasp over my cock as he began to rub her clit from behind. 

Laurel is usually very passive in bed, but that night something had taken hold of her. She took her mouth off of my cock and turned to Ron and said, "Do you...do you want to help me suck him? It's okay if you don't, I just know that he's done that with guys before and I want this night to be special for him and you seem pretty open...." It all spilled out in a tumble of nerves. 

Ron just smiled and moved up next to her and said, "Show me what he likes."

Laurel slowly licked from the base of my cock to the tip, then took it all in as deep as she could. She then slowly, ever so slowly pulled away, saliva trailing from my cock to her mouth until it broke and fell glistening to her covered breast. Ron took over then, sucking me expertly (this obviously wasn't his first time with another man). Laurel watched as his lips slowly made their way to the base of my cock, then back again, as he slowly worked me, making me harder and harder. I noticed her hand was on his cock now, stroking him, rubbing his pre-cum up and down his rigid shaft. 

All too soon I was close to coming, and it was far too early in the night for that. I pushed Ron away and said, "We need a more interactive experience here...Laurel's getting the short end of the stick right now." I directed her to lay down on the bed, and Ron didn't need to be told what to do - he buried his face between her legs and her hands were soon gripping the hair on the back of his head, tightly pressing his tongue to her wetness. 

I reached down between Ron's legs and started to stroke his cock, feeling that strange sense of touching another man's equipment, so similar to your own, yet so different. He turned his body to the side a bit, exposing himself more, and I moved my mouth down to take his meaty head between my lips. His pre-cum tasted salty and felt slick on my lips, and his musk smelled so different than a woman's, but taking his cock into my mouth, feeling it swell between my lips, I caught fire. I had to see him inside my wife, I needed this, now. 

Disengaging, I slid up the bed next to Laurel and kissed her, sharing with her the taste of his cock on my mouth. "Are you ready?" I whispered hoarsely.

"Ye-ess,' she moaned. "Yes."

Ron raised his head from between her legs. "Do you have condoms?," he asked.

"Shit, no." I replied. "We don't use them, we had our two kids and then, well it's a long story but Laurel doesn't have to worry about getting pregnant. We're both clean, are you?"

"Yeah, and I have a vasectomy so we're set there...this is stupid, isn't it? But I'm willing to risk it...," he replied. 

I looked at Laurel and she nodded...words were too precious, then, too risky to break the tableau. She spread her legs and I held her as Ron positioned himself, his cock obscenely red and hard, slick with my spit and his precum. I kissed her, then, as he started to rub his cock between her wet lips. I felt her tense as his head slid inside her, spreading her walls, and then she let out a long, deep moan as he bottomed out, filling her. I felt amazement, so privileged to touch her and feel her responses as another man took her in ways that only I had for the last fifteen years and more. 

As Ron began to slowly piston her pussy with his cock, I moved up on the bed and presented my own cock to Laurel's hungry mouth, enjoying her tongue as I took in the view. Ron held himself above her so I could see his cock sliding in and out of her red, engorged lips. Laurel was moaning more now, paying less attention to my cock, and I could tell she was about to come. 

She let out another low, deep moan and wrapped her legs around Ron's ass, pulling him into her as she bucked against him. That sent Ron over the edge, and any thoughts of him coming anywhere other than inside her were swept away. I could see his ass tensing with each jet shot from his cock, and then finally he relaxed and pulled back, his cock pulling out with a wet pop, cum drooling down Laurel's lips.

In that moment, I needed to finish, and I needed to have it all. I positioned myself between Laurel's legs and without a thought slid my cock into Ron's load. It was strange, feeling another man's cum in my wife's cunt, but the warmth and wetness and the knowledge of what was happening overrode any other thoughts. "Come over here," I told Ron, and directed him to stand over Laurel on the bed so I could clean off his cock while I fucked my wife. She was beyond thinking, now, not able to come anymore but still wracked by sensation every time I thrust into her. Ron's cock tasted amazing now, covered in her juices and his cum, and I cleaned it off as he slowly softened. 

I was over the edge, now, the world down to the point of my cock, driving over and over again into Laurel's sloppy wet cunt. I felt my balls start to tense and I slammed into her one last time, deep, shooting jets of my own cum, shuddering, collapsing on top of her. We laid there, entangled, my cock slowly shrinking inside her, our fluids mingled, sweaty, breathless. "I love you," I said.

"I love you too," she replied.

We kissed.

 

http://www.literotica.com/s/we-find-our-groove-in-the-big-easy