A Meeting of Drink(s)

by Ryan.

The last few weeks were a whirlwind of emotions. Mae’s first solo trip to the bookstore had been a hilarious disaster. It wasn’t long before she found a new bull who wanted to meet (play with) her. It just so happened that this particular bull had been the very same bull I had messaged a year prior when we had, yet again, considered the lifestyle. At that time, he had been very interested. This time however, he was even more interested.

To say this bull was confident would have been an understatement. His flirting was leaning on cheesy and cliché–or so I thought. He was persistent and always kept up the persona. Mae and I had always been fascinated with psychology and enjoyed analyzing people. We both knew what he was doing. Even though Mae knew he was trying to manipulate (mind-fuck) her; it was working. She was living her days in constant arousal with the new-found attention.

The bull in question fit the role very well. He was tall, dark, muscular, understood the lifestyle, and had an insatiable lust for wives. He also happened to have a large online pornography influence, which made our fantasizing about the encounter relatively easy. Out of all the bulls we were talking to, he seemed to be the only one who truly understood how the role of a bull is supposed to be played.

“Was Mae really going to be able to meet this guy? I mean he is basically a pornstar,” I thought. Most of the men we spoke with didn’t have the confidence to hold a conversation; this man did. He constantly sent her messages which were, in turn, fueling her sexual energy like nothing and no one before.

We decided that she needed to meet this guy. She set the date for that Friday. We had five days to prepare for the event, which was just supposed to be a drink at a local bar.

We created some rules and even made a wish list. The list was only five things–which I won’t divulge here. After what seemed like an eternity, Friday had finally arrived.

“Do you like my hair like this?” Mae asked as she prepared herself for her first date. “It’s beautiful!” I quickly replied from our bed. “You got this!” The date was just that, a date. Drinks and maybe a little fun–at least that’s what I was hoping.

Mae had been looking forward to this night all week. She bought new outfits, new panties, and new makeup. While Mae concerned herself with what outfit to wear, I prepared for the event in my own way. I wanted to make sure that she felt comfortable for whatever happened after drinks, so I had my car tinted. Just in case 😉 .

I mentally planned for this night for so long. My heart raced as I watched her prepare herself for another man. She carefully moved each curl into place and applied more product to ensure that each strand was absolutely perfect. It was a thrill to watch her; to see her care so much about every little detail. She was making herself beautiful for another man.

My emotions were mixed. On one hand, I was very excited. I had been planning this encounter for the better part of 8 years. Yet, a part of me was screaming inside. “You can’t really let her leave?” My mental fantasy had been written and rewritten so many times that I knew, whatever happened tonight, I was going to love it. After all, I had to, right?

Finally, my legs shaking, I walked her out to my car. We hugged and kissed repeatedly and I left her to her own devices. I returned to our home alone and anxiously put our children to bed.

We talked and texted until she finally arrived at the bar. That’s when my involvement abruptly ended. This part was up to her…and him. My mind raced. I returned to our marital bed and attempted to watch a movie. After a few minutes, I received my first text (pictured below).

I was excited, nervous, terrified, angry, and horny all at the same time. This was freaking happening. After all these years of dabbling in and out of the lifestyle, the night had finally arrived. I couldn’t help it anymore. I had to know what was happening. I pulled out my phone and checked the “Find my” app to see where she was. She was sitting in a building. No, she was in a parking lot. The image of my beautiful wife’s face kept moving around the map of the parking lot and back into the building. “Must be the app,” I thought. I opened the Tesla app to see where my car was. It was behind the restaurant with the air conditioning running full blast.

“Did she park back there first or did she move the car?” I thought. After obsessively checking both apps I finally saw my back door open…and then the other (all through the Tesla app). After a few minutes, the front door opened and closed. My mind raced. Deep down I already knew what had happened. When I saw my car start to leave, I called.

The woman on the other end of the phone was ecstatic; you could hear the attitude in her voice. I, on the other hand, was scared out of my mind. “Did you do anything?” I asked. “Yes,” she replied. “You’ll get the videos shortly.” “Send them now!” I yelled back. “He has them and will send them to you when he can,” she said. This was not the news I was hoping for. In our prior discussions, we had agreed that she would use her phone for any media that would have been captured. Apparently, all those things were quickly tossed out while they were in the moment.

After only a few seconds, the videos started coming through. I opened the first one and was not-at-all surprised to see Mae’s large breasts being squeezed by a black mans hand. He was running his hand slowly over each breast inspecting them before pinching each of her nipples. The video was short–only about 20 seconds in length. I opened the next video and my stomach sank at the sight of the thumbnail image. It was Mae holding a large black cock near her mouth. The video began with her pumping his large cock up and down and her mouth engulfing it. Here was my wife sucking another mans cock. My phone kept chiming; the videos kept coming. Each one hitting me harder than the previous. I felt nauseous. He used her mouth and she loved it. He talked to her like she was a hot piece-of-ass and not like the woman I have loved for so long. After every dirty comment, she affirmed his statements with a “mmhhhmm” because her mouth was too full to respond appropriately. When he finally came, she did as any sexually-empowered hotwife would do, she eagerly took it down.

I was rewarded (and punished) with the videos and pictures. It was both exciting and terrifying to watch. After waiting for so long to watch another man give my wife attention, I finally witnessed it (at least through the eyes of a camera lens).

I closed my phone and went into our closet and sat down. Mae had written me a letter before she left and sealed it in an envelope with these words written on the front: “For if things get too lonely, I love you.” My wife was just with another man and, even though I wanted it, a part of me was too jealous to handle these new-found emotions. I opened my Tesla app and watched her drive the 30 minutes home. I read the letter and then I read it again. I continued sitting in the closet reading the letter and meditating on my emotions until she came to find me. She sat in my lap and I could immediately smell everything that had happened. The smell of sex hung in the air between us.

The woman that left to go on her first date with another man never came home that night. The woman that returned resembled my wife, but will never be the same again. She has finally found the sexual being that has always been lurking just beneath the surface of her .

That night we talked, we cried, and we fucked the hell out of each other. Our marriage is only getting stronger since that date. We are currently planning our first “hotel” date. She is already picking out lingerie to wear for him. My way of preparing is determining which GoPro I’m going to need…