Met a couple and the wife turned me into her live-in boy toy. [MF]

This ended up being a lot longer than I expected it to. There is more to this story, but we’ll see if anyone wants to hear more first.
Juicy bit marked with “******”
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This story starts, for me, back in early college. I did what every kid from Middle Class America does, and got a part time job in the service industry. I wasn’t a bus boy, but I was a line cook for a higher end local restaurant. I’ve always enjoyed cooking, so the work was just fine by me. I mostly used the money I got from it and put it towards weed, a pack of beer or two, or nights out with friends. I was one of the “lucky” few that didn’t have to take loans out for my ENTIRE degree, just most of it.

One night, midway through the shift, I took a step out back and lit up a joint I had gotten earlier that day and just took in the crisp night air (Autumn in the Northeast is superb). A younger couple came around the corner and while I initially thought they were hammered drunk, they were actually all over each other. She slipped out of her heels and he pinned her to the outside of the restaurant. It was pretty carnal if I’m being honest. It got real awkward real fast as a light breeze definitely wafted a cloud of smoke their direction. Like two ravenous honey badgers these two snapped their heads in my direction.

“Sorry folks, didn’t mean to-” the women interrupted me as she and her partner began to walk over to me “Nothin’ to be sorry about, honey, unless you ain’t sharin” she said in what can only be described as the most stereotypical southern accent I’d ever heard. As she crossed the 30 feet of distance the parking lot lights turned her shadowy silouhette into a more refined (emphasis on FINE) figure. She wasn’t tall, maybe 5’2″ and very petite. She had on a slim dress that kind of reminded me of the dresses you see from the 1920s and 1930s. Google tells me those are Flapper Dresses? Moving On!

As she walked across the pavement in her bare feet, I looked over her shoulder to her man leaning against the corner of the building. I think he noticed me because he shouted “Surgeon, none for me thanks.”

The woman, and we’ll call her Amy, finally made her way up to me and I offered the joint over. She brought it along her nose and gave it a sniff before taking a drag. It was pretty obvious this wasn’t her first time. After what felt like a solid ten minutes of her holding in the smoke, she gestured for me to come closer. I was confused, sure, but…the rule is that when a hot woman says jump, you jump, right? I leaned down as she reached up to my neck pressed her closed lips to my mouth. I mentioned I was confused before, and now I was very confused..and more than a little aroused. As our lips parted she slowly breathed the smoke she had been holding down into my lungs. The smoke had cooled (obviously) so I noticed a lot more of the flavor of the weed and that, mixed with the brandy she had been drinking all night, was probably one of the most pleasant experiences I have ever had.  We stood there making out for a minute before I remembered there was a guy no more than 30 feet away who was probably going to be hitting me with a tire iron any moment now.

Like a moron (in hindsight) I peeled away from her and started blabbering an apology like it was somehow my fault or my weed’s fault that she came up to me and started kissing me. I looked back over at the guy and found him standing right where he was before either unphased or uncaring. Amy didn’t say anything, just gave a cute little laugh and walked back to who I now will refer to as Mark. Mark shoved off the wall, gave me a wave, and said “Have a good night!” then he and Amy put arms around each other and  walked over to their very high end looking car.  At some point during the exchange I had taken the joint back from Amy. I looked down at it at that moment and tossed it away as if were some kind of venomous snake. What the hell was in that joint?

I went back into the restaurant half believing that what had just happened was some THC induced daydream. There is no way any of my co-workers would believe me, so I tried to put it in the back of my mind and get through the night.

A few hours later, after we wrapped up the dinner service and after we cleaned up the kitchen someone knocked on our back door. I just assumed it was someone who left their keys or wallet in the restaurant which was certainly locked up by now. I opened the door up and found Mark standing there, hands in his pockets. “What are you doing after this?” he asked. I remember thinking that the most odd part of his question was that he didn’t have any hint of an accent. “Uhh, probably grabbing a beer?”

“Perfect! We’ve already got some at the house.” he said, clapping me on the shoulder in a “lets go” kind of way. This was a guy very accustomed to getting his way in the world, if you couldn’t already tell.

I turned to my boss and just gestured with my thumb towards the door in a vague “Hey, so I’m going to go now, ok?” way which he responded with a OK hand gesture, aka “Yea man, we’re good here.”

I dug into my pocket for my keys to my mint (and by mint I mean shit) condition ’97 White Nissan Sentra when Mark hit the remote for his car, still parked where it was hours ago.

“Why don’t we carpool, save the environment and all that.” he said.

Instinctively I started to walk to the passenger side and found that Mark was also walking to that side of the car.

“We’ve both had a few too many. Going to need you to drive,” he paused, and he realized around the same time I did that we hadn’t even properly introduced ourselves. He gave me his name, I gave him mine (Let’s go with Roy).  With that sorted I grabbed the keys from him.

So here I was, about to drive an absolute stranger, whose wife I made out with a few hours ago, to his home for a beer. These  kind of stories usually end in one of two ways. They’re either ones you hear about on America’s Most Wanted or really bad porn movies. In hindsight, this could have gone such a worse direction than it did.

I circled around the front, taking note of the Jaguar emblem on the front (I was right, ridiculously high end car) and jumped in the driver seat. I cannot understate how much it smelled like sweat and sex in this car. I looked in the back seat and saw Amy, passed out, fully naked, one leg propped up on the headrest of the back seat. Her  dress was bunched up under her plump breasts, her puffy nipples lifting slightly as she breathed in and out. My eyes, in a trance, slid down her slender abdomen and curvy hips to her smooth pussy. It looked more than a little red and swollen. It was a sight I’m not sure I’ll ever forget. The whole situation clicked in that moment. These two had been going at it in their back seat this whole time. Empty mini bar bottles scattered the floor alongside a pair of discarded panties and a bra.

“She’ll be alright in a bit. She’s a bit of a lightweight but she bounces back pretty fast.” Mark said.

I forgot about Mark. Again. Here I am oggling his wife, sitting next to him in his car. My barely-not-a-teenager brain was in full “What the shit is going on right now?” mode. My still-very-much-a-teenager libido was in full “Shut your mouth, Brain, this doesn’t concern you.” mode.

“Uhh, sure, just worried if we got in an accident or something.” was all I could really come up with at the moment.

“Between the three of us, you’ll probably come out the worst for wear. Intoxicated people are oddly resilient.” Oh that’s a lovely thought. I felt like I was in a lecture hall when talking with Mark. He mentioned earlier he was a surgeon, so he would probably have a ton of experience patching up drunk people.

He pressed a button on the dash and a map appeared behind the steering wheel as the robotic voice told me to turn left onto the road in front of the restaurant. I’ve seen planes with less buttons and switches than this car. If I was more of a gear head I’d probably have had an erection in this moment.

Judging by the GPS it was a short drive to their house. A few minutes before we arrived there was some rustling in the back as Amy came out of her nap. Mark reached into the center console and pulled out a small water bottle and handed it back to Amy who took it, kissing his hand in the process.

“Thanks sweetie, and thank you for driving, handsome.” she said as she noticed me in the driver’s seat. I couldn’t help but glance in the rear view to try and sneak another glimpse. The steering wheel vibrated in my hand drawing my attention back to the road as I gently corrected course back into the center of the lane. The rest of the drive was uneventful, and as I turned up their driveway their house came into view. It was a house like the White House was just a house which is to say that it was massive. Mark pointed to what could have been confused for an aircraft hanger on the right, and so I drove towards it. 80 feet out one of the doors automatically began to lift revealing an empty parking space inside. I hadn’t even put the car in park when Amy shoved the door open and sauntered out into the garage. I sat there, seat belt in my hand, as she walked past carrying her dress and bra in one hand, panties and heels in the other. She was undoubtedly petite from the waist up, but that only served to contrast her mesmerizing ass and waist. Mark, who had gotten out of the car just a second after her, had caught up to her and gave her a firm slap on the ass as they ascended the stairs. The sound of that smack echoing around the garage snapped me out of it (it happened a lot early on) and I quickly got out of the car and followed them inside.

I could bore you with the interior, but let’s just say it was fancy. Tall ceilings, lots of rooms, paintings, and sculptures. Your typical run of the mill rich people stuff. It made me feel very aware of the fact that I had just stood in a kitchen cooking food for 8 hours.

“Mark, do you have somewhere I can wash off that restuarant smell a little bit? I feel like Pig-Pen from Charlie Brown.” He lead me to one of their six (SIX!) bathrooms. This one was on the smaller end consisting of only a shower, toilet, and sink. There was nothing I could do about my clothing, it’s not like I carried around another outfit on me for mingling with the 1%. I hoped rinsing my hair and body would be enough to move me from Pig-Pen level of stink to “tolerable at arm’s length.”

This is as good a time as any to give you, the reader, a mental image of me. I’m average in most measurable ways. My grandparents were dutch so I’m taller than most people I’ve met at 6’3″ (190cm) a little over 200 lbs (90kg/14 stone) though at least some of that is muscle. I dabbled in after-school Rugby in high school and had been working out to tryout for my college’s rowing team at the time. I’ve got green eyes and my hair (light brown)  was probably no more than a few inches long, so medium length?

Back to it!

I rinsed off and grabbed a towel that hung on a bar outside the shower to dry off. I noticed that my pile of dirty clothes was gone. A stack of neatly folded clothes sat on the sink. It hadn’t heard anyone come in, but was happy to not have to put back on my grimey clothes from work. The clothes that were left for me fit surprisingly well. A simple white short sleeved shirt and a pair of gray sweat shorts.

I stepped out from the bathroom and followed the sound of music playing down the hall. I walked in to find Amy wearing a bartender’s apron behind a small wet bar mixing up a cocktail.

“Roy’s here!” she shouted. Mark, who had also changed out of his dress clothes and into lounge pants, spun on the barstool and inspected me.

“Hope you don’t mind, I had some clothes my cousin left here last time he visited. He looked to about your size. The laundry lady will have your stuff back to you in the morning.” He pointed over his shoulder at Amy as he said it and was rewarded with a thrown lime wedge. They were funny, these two. During my time with them that night (and many others) I came to realize that they were a couple to strive to be like when I settled down. They cared for each other, they faced the world as a unified front, and supported each other without question.

“Don’t just stand there, take a load off!” Amy told me. I flopped into a barstool just as Amy was pouring something from a shaker into a martini glass. A thin fog followed the last few drops of liquid out of the shaker. It crested the rim of the glass and fell onto the bar top as it spread out in all directions. I was so focused on the beautiful drink that I didn’t even notice Amy’s breast was exposed since she had nothing on underneath the apron. This woman just hated clothes after 10pm. It was like some kind of Were-curse. She just turns naked instead of into a Werewolf.

She set down the shaker and turned to me, setting her elbows on the countertop. She started at me for a second before it occurred to me that she was probably waiting for a request.

“I’ll have a-”

“Hush, I’m trying to figure that out. Ain’t no fun if you go spoiling it on me.” I looked over at Mark for help, but he was busy sipping on the drink she just finished making. Amy’s hand came up to my face and pointed it back at her and she continued to stare.

Alright, what the hell. I thought and decided to make a staring contest out of it. She seemed to pick up on the game and stared right back. She had really pretty eyes that I didn’t have the chance to notice until then. They were green, like mine, but somehow more…vibrant. My eyes were like when a printer ran low on green ink but hers were closer to a green apple.

“So, what am I drinking?” I asked, hoping to get her to blink before me.

“I figured that out a while ago, you’re a Gin Rickey or I’m Liv Tyler” she told me.

I blinked. I couldn’t not blink. She was absolutely right. I had spent the better part of my first semester working my way through the classic cocktails to find mine in a Sorting-Hat-from-Harry-Potter style mission and the Gin Rickey edged out the Kamikaze as my cocktail of choice.

“I win!” she exclaimed, spinning around which put her bare ass on full display. It was, and continued to be, a magnificent ass. I, again, looked to Mark for help and this time he just laughed. “She’s only been wrong once.”

“Don’t you go sullying my good name in front of guests. Besides, you know as well as I that she was lying through her teeth. No one on God’s green Earth likes Absinthe. Not even the art students who think it’ll bring them closer to Van Gogh and that’s a fact.”

She slid the finished drink in front of me, a picture perfect Gin Rickey.

“Do you tend bar somewhere?” I asked. It was the only thing that could explain Fortune Telling’s more fun cousin, Cocktail Telling.

“Never worked a day in my life, and that’s the truth.” Amy said. She had pulled down a fluted glass and cracked open a bottle of champagne.

“That’s a partial truth.” Mark chimed in. “She has an undiagnosed mental disorder where she loves her job, so it never feels like work to her.”

“I’ll drink to that.” I said and we all toasted our glasses.

The night went on like this for a little while as we all got to know each other. I typically hate small talk, but it was all too easy to talk to Mark and Amy. I became almost oblivious to Amy’s nakedness. We talked about my college classes, Mark’s craziest surgeries, Amy’s favorite southern recipes that she couldn’t find up here in the “frigid unforgiving north.”

Come to find out that she was from Georgia originally, and she and Mark met up when he was doing his residency down there.

Mark let out a sizeable yawn checked his watch and got up from the couch where we had moved to from the bar.

“Alright love, don’t stay up too late.” was all he said. He bent down and gave her a kiss on the head and placed something into her hand. He whispered something into her ear that I couldn’t hear.

“Roy, I’ll see you in the morning.” and with that he left.

Just thinking back on it is enough to make my heart beat fast in my chest. What do you say in that situation? “Sure thing Mark, I’ll just sit here with your naked wife and we’ll do each other’s nails?”

“*****”

“Now that the cat is away,” she said, mischievously as she uncurled herself from her spot on the couch. I think I gulped, probably comically.

“Do you have any allergies, Roy?” she asked me.

“Yes, I’d love to-wait what?” You see…this was not a question I was mentally preparing to answer.

“Allergies, do you have any?” she repeated. My perpetual state of confusion deepened by a factor of two.

“None that I know of, but I’ve never been tested.”

She scooted so close to me that her leg brushed mine and uncapped an unmarked small tube. Where did that come from? She didn’t have pockets or anything. It reminded me of lip balm that my sisters used in winter. She squeezed a little bit onto the tip of her finger and  rubbed it into my forearm. The cream had a slight chemical smell and had a cooling effect. She put the cap back on the tube and set it on the end table to my left, dragging her breasts right by my face. Part of me wanted to grab them in my hands and kiss them right then and there. Instead I kept my hands pinned to my side.

“Have you ever heard of lidocaine?” she asked me, as she returned to a sitting position, noticabley closer than before. I would have had to fully turn my head just to talk to her she was so close. Instead I turned my whole body a little bit and put my right arm on the top of the couch.

“Sounds like cocaine, so I’m guessing it’s a drug?” I said. Of course it’s a drug, Roy! I was running at about half mast right now so my brain had access to about 4% of the blood supply at the moment, that’s my only excuse.

“Lidocaine is in fact a drug. You’ve certainly had it if you’ve ever been to the dentist. It’s used to numb your gums.” The way she said “numb your gums” in her southern accent just cracks me up just thinking about it.

“This here is a might bit stronger than what you find at Publix” she told me.

She grabbed my arm and brought it into her lap and traced a fingernail along my palm. She moved her fingernail out of my palm along my forearm stopping about an inch short of the spot where she had applied the cream. We met each others eyes and she drew her finger up then drove it, nail down, into my arm. Reflexively I let out a little yelp but after the initial surprise wore off I realized I didn’t feel anything more than the surrounding skin becoming tight. She didn’t break skin, but there was definitely a mark there.

“What a delight, seems like you’re not allergic.” she purred. Our eyes met again and we just moved instinctively. She straddled me and I brought one of my hands to the nape of her neck while my other hand explored her body. Her kisses were so rapid and hungry. She ground her hips against me and I felt the wetness of her pussy as it pressed up against my erection still in the confines of the sweat shorts. She reached down to my waist and pulled up my shirt up over my head. Not waiting for me to fully remove it she kissed my bare chest and neck as I tossed the shirt aside. I grabbed the side of her face in my hand and kissed her deeply, our tongues explored each other for a moment before she pulled away, clearing her hair out of her face.

She dismounted which gave me a chance to remove my shorts. As my dick popped out she let out a little squeel as she uncapped the small tube from before. She carefully squeezed a dollop into her right palm and looked at me.

“He says this takes about a minute to absorb and lasts for about an hour. Think you can handle that?” I didn’t have the best stamina in the sack, I’ll admit, but I nodded. I’d have agreed to anything she asked me right then. She knelt down and grabbed my dick with her left hand, careful to keep her right hand away for the moment.  She took my dick in her mouth, swirling her tongue along my shaft. I let out a moan as my head flopped backwards against the couch. Over the course of just a few seconds of her impeccable technique I felt my erection go from firm to what could only be described as a velvet-wrapped steel rod. She must have noticed it too, as she stopped right then and brought her left hand into massage my cock. It felt pretty good for a few seconds, and then the cooling effect of the super-lidocaine kicked in. A few seconds after that I didn’t feel it at all.

I wasn’t sure how I maintained an erection without having any sensations, but it seemed like some base-monkey-brain was controlling that switchboard and it didn’t really care if I felt anything or not. Amy crawled onto me again, straddling me and placing her hands on the couch behind me, her dripping wet pussy resting just an inch or two away from my dick. I tried to shimmy myself to line them up and enter her but she lifted off my lap when I got close.

“Nuh uh, handsome. You gotta be patient for another-” she looked behind me “thirty-five seconds.”

From her current, slightly elevated, spot, her breasts now were right in front of my face. I am not a good judge of breast size, but they seemed to be a C cup. I reached up and grabbed both of them, kissing around her left nipple and lightly biting her right one. She let out a moan as I switched to kissing left nipple and lightly sucking on her right.

She bent forward and bit my eat as she lowered herself down into my lap. I saw her reach back and assume she guided my cock inside her (though I couldn’t tell) because she let out a little whimper and shook from ecstasy. She lopped her arms around my neck and leaned back revealing that she had taken all of my length inside her.

Amy was beautiful, and watching her bounce up and down on my cock, hearing her moan as she experienced the pleasure of being filled up was magical. I tried to be a selfless lover with all my previous partners, but my body usually betrayed my intent. This, on the other hand, made me feel like a Sex God. With this new found superpower, I made it a goal to fuck her until either feeling returned to my dick or she threw in the towel too tired to go on.

As she came to a pause, shuttering and quivering on my lap, I looped my arm around her waist and stood up. She let out a squeek at the unexpected elevation change which morphed into a moan when I drove my hips upward, burying my dick inside her. She wrapped her legs around my waist giving her a chance to drive herself down onto my cock. Our mouths met in a fury as she continued to slide up and down my body, breathing heavier and heavier as she approached another orgasm. When she finally did come she latched onto my shoulder, biting hard as her legs, again, shook from the rolling pleasure.

I held her there, letting her ride wave after wave until she unwrapped her legs and landed lightly on the ground.

She looked up at me with those other-worldly eyes. “Let’s take this party somewhere private” she said as she grabbed my hand and lead me to a nearby bedroom.

End of Part 1

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/plpewy/met_a_couple_and_the_wife_turned_me_into_her