Cara [F] willingly shares a bed with her co-worker [M]

I’m really grateful for the amazing feedback I received for the first experience I shared involving my lovely, kind and sexy wife, Cara. If you haven’t read it yet, you can visit my profile. It’s called “Wife’s revelation about fellow wedding guest”. At the outset, I want to confirm the sex described here is fully consensual.

How the wedding changed us

That wedding was the first time Cara had ever said anything to me about her past sexual experiences. If it wasn’t for that guy and his awful friends being at the wedding, I’m not sure she would have ever talked about this subject. When she told me that night (in a quite matter of fact way) that her main aim back in the day, when she was a party animal, was to end the night in a guy’s bed every time she went to a pub or club, it really took me by surprise. She only blurted it out because of the booze, I think, but there’s been no turning back or major regrets since. Alcohol has a lot to answer for in society sometimes, but I genuinely think my wife would have never felt comfortable admitting to me that she was VERY sexually active before me without some boozy lubrication, probably fearing I wouldn’t love her the same way or would judge her harshly.

Cara and I have had an amazing and active sex life since we met but I genuinely thought she was quite a good girl. Not nearly a virgin or anything, but I thought maybe she’d been with 2 or 3 guys at most. She comes from a great family, has an important job, is a classy person in how she dresses and presents herself, and I suppose that made me see her in a certain way. It turns out I was really wrong in that assumption and I also now realise that my notions of what made someone a good girl are pretty stupid and judgmental.

We fucked each other’s brains out in a new kind of way that night of the wedding. What turned me on so much was how slutty and liberated and sexy it seemed to make her feel to have done a pretty filthy thing with this guy in that nightclub bathroom and, not only that, but he and his friends had remembered her for it and were still objectifying her and her body years later because of it. It helped that she was wearing the same dress at the wedding that the guy had physically came over some years before. I think their behaviour at the wedding flipped a switch in Cara’s mind where she suddenly understood that these guys are probably still cumming over the thought of her today. I can’t tell you how absolutely drenched her pussy was that night. In the unlikely event she didn’t want me to know this turned her on massively, then her pussy juice completely betrayed her that night.

Reasons not to be jealous

A few of you commented last time that it was good of me not to get jealous. In my worst moments, when we’re not having sex or in a sexy place, it does pain me a bit, knowing quite a lot about how other guys have fucked, licked, sucked and came inside this gorgeous, beautiful woman I love so much and will spend the rest of my life trying to make happy and will hopefully have kids with. Some selfish thoughts spring into my mind sometimes that make me think “that tight pussy, those big tits, that sexy mouth, that curvy ass belong to me, not these other guys”. The worst thing is when I have moments of clarity when I know it’s not about her body parts (which degrades her to be a sexual object only) but actually about her as a person. I love her and don’t want to have ever shared her.

But there are two things which always overcome these thoughts for me and are how I see things 95% of the time: 1. Since she started sharing these stories from her past with me, our sex life has reached an almost euphoric level. The fucking has higher stakes, the horniness is next level and the orgasms feel more intense. And 2. Who the fuck am I to feel sorry for myself that my stunning wife, before she met me, enjoyed having sex with other men and had a few years of being slutty before settling down with me? I don’t think we apply that standard to men who put their dicks about, so why should women be treated differently? It’s her body to have chosen what to do with, not mine.

Cara’s next story

For a few months after the wedding, we mainly just focused on the nightclub bathroom story when we were having sex. We didn’t fantasise about it every time we fucked, but maybe every other time at least. She recounted for me again and again how the guy bent her over, lifted her dress, ate her ass, tongue-fucked her vagina and stuffed his fat dick in her, before shooting his load of sticky jizz half inside her pussy and half on the back of her little black dress, before having to sheepishly pull her thong up and open the cubicle door to face a few of his laughing and congratulatory friends. It was incredible listening to her expand on the detail a little bit each time until I’d heard about it all.

Then one night she said “do you want to hear something else I’m not proud of?” If I’m honest, if she hadn’t asked me, I was going to ask her myself sooner rather than later. I felt like I’d hit the jackpot that night in bed when she chose to move the subject on. The strange thing was it was in the spare bedroom of my in-laws’ house that night and the reason she’d asked is that being in her parents’ home reminded her of an incident that happened while she was back living there.

Waitressing for Christmas

I’m paraphrasing of course and adding my own language in places, but this is my memory of what she told me that night (and has described many more times since), while lying next to me naked stroking my dick.

“So, you know how in between university terms when I was 21 or 22, I moved back to my parents’ house and worked as a waitress and sometimes behind the bar in [Name redacted] Hotel. Well, it’s outside of the city and, unless my dad could pick me up, I’d have to do one of a few things at the end of a very late shift.

“I’d either get a lift from one of the other girls who worked there or I’d get a taxi home. Sometimes, though, I’d also be able to crash in one of the hotel rooms. This was coming up to Christmas time and, during both the busy winter and summer seasons, some of the hotel staff would be live-ins with their own rooms. The only girl this applied to that Christmas was one of the restaurant shift managers, Julia. We were friends and she’d let me stay in her room from time to time after a late close.

“Now, when I say a late shift, what I really mean is, we worked until closing time and then those of us who wanted to stick around and hang out from the kitchen and waiting staff would drink together in the empty restaurant. The poor person on the bar would still be serving the last residents while we had post-shift fun next door. On the night I’m talking about, there ended up being just five of us. Me, Julia and three guys who worked in the kitchen. Everyone was live-in seasonal staff except me. We were laughing and having fun and drinking a lot of beer and then some tequila shots. In the back of my mind, I figured I’d just be crashing in Julia’s room. It was getting really late for a taxi to come out from the city to the hotel and I’d missed any chance of a lift from someone else who’d already left earlier.

“It must’ve been about 1am when Julia disappeared from the table. I thought she’d gone to the bathroom again but after a while I realised she’d probably gone to bed. She was pretty drunk and had to work quite early the next day. I immediately wondered where I was going to spend the night. I thought about knocking on Julia’s door. But while she was a friend, she was also one of the managers, so I really didn’t want to upset her or disturb her. So I said to the three kitchen guys ‘oh shit, if Julia’s now in a deep drunken sleep, I don’t know where I’m going to crash’ and started half-joking about lying down on one of the sofas in the bar for the night.

“Anyway, we carried on drinking and chatting for a while. And then one of the guys, Marek, who I didn’t know that well, but was always smiley and nice, said ‘Cara, you can totally crash in my room if you need to, it’s no trouble’. I honestly hadn’t even considered that possibility because it’s just in my mind that it would have to be a girlfriend of mine (and not a guy) if I was to stay over. So I innocently and a bit desperately said ‘really Marek? That would be awesome, thank you. I have to leave early anyway so it’ll only be a few hours by the time we go to bed’. He just smiled and said ‘sure’. And I initially just thought it was a really sweet thing for him to offer. As the drinking continued and time marched on, a slightly less innocent thought did cross my mind about what sharing a room with a boy would lead to, but I quickly pushed it to the back of my mind because I actually had an on-again/off-again boyfriend back at uni at this time. I’m sure Marek doesn’t like me that way anyway, I thought.”

His room

“By the time the drinking stopped it would’ve been about 3 in the morning and to say we were drunk would be an understatement. We said goodnight to the two other guys and Marek led me to his room. When we got inside, it was just a Queen bed with no sofa bed, like there was in Julia’s room and which is therefore what I’d pictured. Before I could comment on it, though, Marek asked me which side of the bed I wanted. I said I didn’t mind and just eased in to the fact we’d sleep in the same bed. I mean, who cares at this point, when you’re drunk and tired, it’s 3am and you’re most likely going to just close your eyes and sleep?

“So Marek said, ‘cool, I’ll take the side by the door and you can be closest to the bathroom’. I said ‘thanks’ and he just started taking his clothes off, got down to his underwear and jumped under the bed covers. I remember thinking how tanned he was. He quickly rolled over away from me towards the door and looked like he was going straight to sleep. That meant I was able to take off my shoes and uniform (the key feature of which was a shorter-than-us-waitresses-liked skirt) with some privacy and go into the bathroom quickly in my underwear before coming back out and getting into the bed to, I presumed, go to sleep.

“I shut the bathroom door, did my business and then came back into the room. Marek was now sitting up in the bed and looking me up and down, which was a slight surprise because I thought he’d gone straight to sleep, and he said ‘sorry, I’ll just use the bathroom quickly too’. He got out of bed and sidled past me, very close because the room was tiny and closed the bathroom door after him. I then got into bed and, while I was lying there on my back, stealing glances at the ceiling, I was just replaying in my mind that this guy from the kitchen staff had just seen me in my nude-coloured bra and thong, before edging physically past me half-naked and thinking how embarrassing this was going to be the next time we were on shift together.”

Fumbling under the covers

“Marek soon re-emerged, turned off the bedroom light and just left the mirror light in the bathroom on with a slight crack in the door, presumably so we could see a bit if we needed the toilet in the middle of the night. He then got into bed and for a short while everything was quiet and still, other than hearing each other breathe. I was very aware of being almost-naked next to a relative stranger and starting to realise this was a bit mad, when I felt his hand graze my arm as he turned onto his side towards me. It was clearly just a mistake, I thought. It’s only a small bed. But he grazed my arm slightly again… and again… before he was kind of eventually just gently rubbing or massaging my forearm.

“I honestly didn’t know what to do or say, though I did immediately have excitement in my gut. He was a good looking guy with, it turns out, a fit body. But before that night I didn’t think he was really my type. As I already said, I also at the time had a guy I was seeing sometimes at university, so I wasn’t in any way looking. I was still on my back at this point and, thinking of staying faithful to my sort-of-boyfriend, I decided I should roll over onto my side away from him and start to make a soft snoring noise. A few minutes pass with nothing and I think it’s all done with, when I feel the duvet being lifted behind me. It took me a few seconds to realise he was probably, with the help of the dim glow from the bathroom, taking a long look at my bare butt under the covers. At least I thought he was. I thought to myself in my tipsiness ‘help yourself’ and pushed my butt out a little bit. If he wasn’t looking before, he certainly would be now. And if I thought our next shift was going to be embarrassing before, this was now another level. He’d seen a momentary glimpse of my nude thong earlier but he was now getting a full-on inspection.

“In the way you do when it’s not that long since you were a self-conscious teenager, I started to worry about what he thought of my ass, was there any cellulite, was it too fat, was I fuckable, what would he tell all the guys in the kitchen about me? I found myself hoping this strange guy, who I was now willingly let stare at my private body part having never fancied him before, would find it sexy enough and that he’d surely want to fuck it? Partly because I feared he’d tell the chefs, one of whom I found very attractive, that I had a fat ass or something.

“But I then feel him move his body closer to me until his hand is on my hip, his mouth is just behind my neck and – you guessed it – his hard penis is starting to poke into my ass beneath his underwear. It felt like a point of no return was coming and it really did when he took his hand off my hip and started squeezing one of my ass cheeks. At this point, so many thoughts are swimming through my head. The main ones were convincing myself it was okay to cheat on my sometimes-boyfriend because this guy had been kind enough to let me stay in his room and then I’d proceeded to lie next to him in just a bra and thong. No wonder he was horny and I should probably find a way to say thank you to him for having me. Not only that, but if I’m honest, his persistence was turning me on. It felt like he just had to have me. As he groped and fondled my ass, I got more and more wet.”

Taking his dick

“Without turning around I said softly ‘if you like, you can take your shorts off’. His breathing suddenly got louder and quicker, and he pulled them off hurriedly, threw them off the bed and I felt the exposed head of his dick and his sticky pre-cum against my butt crack for the first time. This situation made me feel like such a slut and I then just decided to lean into the feeling, despite feeling a bit guilty. You’re only young once and it’s only sex. I turned towards him and we started kissing deeply. He unhooked my bra and pawed and sucked at my tits like it was the first pair he’d ever touched. He then went down on me and slipped my thong off. He roughly turned my body around on the bed so I was facing directly towards the bathroom, all so he could get the best look at my pussy possible with the light shining on it. I felt so exposed while he played with his new toy.

“To be honest, he sucked and licked my clit a bit too hard for it to be comfortable, but it kind of added to the hot feeling of being helpless in this strange guy’s bedroom. I was expecting to return the favour by sucking his dick but he got on top of me and went straight to sliding his long cock into me and he pounded me hard for a few minutes, before lying down next to me and then pulling me on top of him.

“In hindsight, everything about this suggested Marek knew this was a one time thing and he wouldn’t get the chance again. He didn’t want to stop squeezing my tits and groping my ass and tonguing my mouth – and me being on top of him gave him the chance to do all three for the rest of our little fling. I tried to do my best pornstar impression and rode him as hard as I could, with my boobs jiggling furiously in his face and his finger repeatedly threatening to enter my asshole as his hands vigorously cupped and spanked my bare behind. He lasted about 20 minutes before he came inside me. We then rolled over and he fingered my clit until I also came. It’s no exaggeration to say we were asleep, at least I know I was, 5 minutes later. Who knows, maybe he stayed up a while longer to look the rest of my body over in detail? I like to think so.”

Back to me

Cara finished her story by telling me she left early in the morning before this guy woke up and that they continued to work together for the rest of that Christmas season (maybe 4 or 5 weeks), without any further incident and saying hello to each other, and has basically never seen him again since. She said she never heard anything from anyone else to suggest Marek had betrayed her confidence about what went on that night. I get the feeling part of Cara wishes he did tell the chefs about her body.

This was more proof of how nice he was, she says. I did ask if there was any part of this story that was non-consensual, to confirm for myself Marek was ‘nice’, and she says ‘fuck no, from the moment I thought about it at the table in the restaurant, I was pretty much semi-consciously throwing him signals. That’s how humans know when to fuck and it’s also how I know I’m a slut’. That made me laugh a lot. My wife knows what she wants.

One thing Cara neglected to mention willingly in her first story about the nightclub bathroom and also this one was whether she used protection. I asked her twice and she answered me twice: she’s not proud of it, but she was fucked and came inside bareback both times. I don’t know how I feel about that, except it’s the detail which finally made me cum that first night she shared this story with me when we were lying in my in-laws’ (her parents’) spare room, after about an hour of masturbating each other.

It’s been the first of many ejaculations to this experience of Cara’s so far for me and orgasms for her. Maybe it’ll make you cum too. You can let us know.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/kf5pad/cara_f_willingly_shares_a_bed_with_her_coworker_m