The day had arrived.
My wife's FWB was in town for business and I insisted that we meet up to 'sort things out', not that I minded their purely sexual arrangements after many nights of endless sexual pleasure from my wife while recalling her sexcapades with him.
He was again checking into the St. Regis, still the poshest hotel in Singapore at the time, and the "scene of crime" where she was taken bareback by him for the first time.
He had a busy couple of days but had agreed to host us for drinks at the lobby bar.
I was excited but she was nervous, fearing that the meeting could end up badly for us. However, I was not at all angry or jealous anymore, but excited and intrigued with the meeting. It was like meeting someone that I have heard so much about for the first time, which was exciting to me.
The evening came and my wife was getting ready. I told her to dress sexily so as not to disappoint her friend. She put on a short black dress that wasn't too formal and a sexy set of lingerie underneath, at my request. She looked smoking hot, someone I would love to fuck as well if I didnt knew her.
The Meet Up.
We arrived at the bar on time and the American was already there sipping on a glass of gin and tonic, made from a bottle of my favorite Japanese gin. The American had good choice of alcohol and women, I thought to myself.
We greeted each other like matured men do, in a calm and friendly way. My wife breathed a sigh of relief, glad that there were no fisticuffs or anything like that.
My wife had come clean with the American prior to the meeting. She had told me everything about them and assured her I was fine with it. I wasn't going to raise the matter until he did, so as to avoid any awkwardness. His excellent
choice of drink had something to do with my decision I guess.
My wife sat on the bar stool next to the American and I stood next to her on the other side so that she was between us. He poured us both drinks and we proceeded with friendly banter, mostly about mundane things and nothing about the sexcapdes they have had.
As the drinks flowed, we warmed up to each other each other, like old friends. The American was funny and charming, and I could see how he was able to charm the panties off my wife. Soon my wife was getting intoxicated, clearly enjoying herself in the company of two men who have given her so much love and pleasure. Her fears of an uneasy encounter was unfounded and she was having a good time.
As the night wore on, the laughter became louder and there was more touching between us. We were both touching her and she liked it, like a diva getting all the attention to herself.
As the inhibitions disappeared, the conversation started to get raunchy. I was a little tipsy myself and starting to move to more intimate topics. I began to joke about my wife, teasing her about her body and her skills on bed, dropping innuendos everywhere. The American picked up the cue and did the same. The conversations started to get dirty, in a complimentary way to my wife. He even thought that my wife could handle more than one man if she had the chance. I was intrigued by the thought.
She was starting to get embarrassed but went along as it was better than boring discussions on football.
As the conversation began to focus more and more on my wife, like she wasn't there, we began to get more and more bold with our touches. I was feeling my wife up and down her back, occasionally grabbing her ass, while the American on the other side with his hand on her lap, as she sat in between us on the high stool. My wife kept pulling her dress down as it was running up her lap, but she gave up after a few drinks, allowing the front of her panties to be partially exposed.
Soon my wife was beginning to feel very relaxed, so relaxed that she didn't react to us touching her everyone. The American soon had his hand under her dress from the front and I had my hand down the back of her dress.
The American, flustered but still sober, then suggested that we take the party upstairs, where it was more comfortable and private. I immediately agreed, without consulting my wife. She was too tipsy to respond to the question anyway.
We finished up and quickly left the bar and headed to the American's suite.
In the Suite.
On the way up, my wife was happy like a little bird, giggling as we went up the lift. She was leaning on me and I was feeling up her ass with my hands up her dress. She was getting moist.
In the lift, I exchanged looks with the American without my wife noticing. It was a smile, a wink and a nod, just enough to assure him that everything was alright. That was followed by a devilish grin from both of us. Words were not needed between guys with the same dirty mind.
Once in the room, my wife headed straight for the sofa to make herself comfortable. she was a little too comfortable as her dress slipped up to her upper thighs revealing her G-string but she didn't care. The American proceeded to make us more drinks and turned on some music. I headed for the throne-like couch that I had heard so much about.
The American passed my wife a drink, something stronger than the red wine she had earlier and he served me a gin and tonic that I liked so much. I have a feeling he and I are going to get along fine.
He settled himself down on the sofa next to my wife, putting his hand on her lap. She did not react and was totally at ease about it.
The conversation and drinks flowed and soon my wife was tipsy and the American and I were getting horny.
My wife's favorite song came on and I decided to get things moving along by asking my wife to give us a little dance. At this point she was game with anything.
My wife is a pretty decent dancer and I loved watching her dance, especially with strange men at the bar, something that got her into trouble one night. That was another story.
My wife got up and began to move suggestively like no one was watching, by herself with her eyes closed, intoxicated with alcohol and music.
