My [39M] wife, Clara [35F], and I spent the holiday season much as we usually do, between home and various parties hosted by our friends and work. Most are casual, but every year, her friend Diana throws a proper soirée at a community center and it’s usually a week or so before Christmas. Everyone knows the date a month in advance because you’re supposed to go all out. Dress to the nines, break out the nice jewelry, and plan to drink top shelf all night at the open bar with fancy finger foods to help sop it all up.
Well this year Clara had surprised me with an advent calendar full of sexy gifts. But today, the 16th, the calendar just said, “you’ll know it when you hear it.”
Well the whole day passed and I tried to read sex into the most mundane things Clara said like “take out the trash” and “can you vacuum the carpet.” Those were, regrettably, just chores.
I was getting, well, antsy, because we were going to a VERY fancy party, and we always stayed late… because everyone stayed late.
My three piece suit was straight out of Peaky Blinders and was easy to put on so I waited in the kitchen impatiently horny until Clara finished getting ready. Her hair was done quite nice and her makeup too. She came downstairs ready to go with her full length fur jacket on because it was a solid 10 degrees outside, we hopped in the car and made our way silently to Diana’s party. I honestly didn’t think twice because I was just frustrated, greedy that I’d been getting action every day and it looked like today was gonna be a nothing.
Diana went all out again with a hired Valet who parked our car and a hired butler who greeted us and took Clara’s jacket at the door.
I swear to god every head in that room turned when Clara doffed her jacket. Her blond soft curls fell over the sexiest, tightest and shortest deep red bodycon dress she has ever worn. Her deep red full, pouting lips matched the luscious depth of her dress and her subtle makeup made her piercing eyes hue green.
As radiantly gorgeous as her face was, so was the sheer sex of her dress. The shoulders and sleeves were a full length fitting mesh and shared her neckline with only a slim diamond choker, but the front cut straight and low across her chest – the tight fit pulled together and pushed up her already generous breasts. The deep line in her cleavage would invite the jealous gazes of women and the longing gazes of their husbands all night. As she turned to thank the butler, long ties across the back holding the sleeves up dangled down and swung into view. Everyone’s eyes simultaneously followed their length down, tracing her curves over her hourglass hips where not a single fold of fabric was to be seen.
The ties and the dress both ended abruptly at just a third of the way down her toned thighs. My eyes traced down her long stems to her strappy tan stilettos, and as she stood feet shoulder width apart, every other man traced them back up, unable to avoid drawing in their minds the rest of the lines to the forbidden diamond hidden so tantalizingly close, but maddeningly, just beyond the deep red hemline.
Clara wore the dress so confidently and her smile and bubbling cheerfulness snapped us all out of our fantasies with her and the party resumed.
There is little doubt in my mind that, as the booze flowed, the men continued to think about my wife, most sharing openly what their wives were wearing under their dresses, in the hopes that I would end their torture.
But I didn’t know either.
It was three hours and about 5 drinks in that Clara came to me, her cheeks now rosy as they get when she’s tipsy.
“You have been undressing me with your eyes all night, mister. I hope you like what you see.”
“Not just me. Everyone. All the men and half the women have insinuated they simply cannot stop looking at you. Ahmed already got in trouble with his wife and every man here has lost his mind, each telling *me, your husband* their guess as to the panties you’re wearing.”
She blushed more, then leaned in, wrapping her arms around my neck, “well I’m glad you only have eyes for me.” Kissing me on the cheek, she intoned coyly “But if you really must know,” and then she nuzzled into my ear, her voice now dropping to a sultry whisper,
“I’m not wearing any.”
My mind’s eye instantly shot back to the first moment she revealed her dress. As my eyes climbed her gorgeous legs, I envisioned her soft, perfectly shaven pussy, small thin petals of labia hidden neatly behind the perfectly opposed outer lips, blooming fully into view only when she spreads herself for me.
“Mmm, I’m gonna have to confirm that,” I answered back in a whisper, now firmly committed to at least fingering my wife’s pussy before the night was up.
I steered her nonchalantly to the large kitchen island where snacks abound. We found ourselves alone on one side, across from us, Clara’s friend, Ameena, and Ahmed who was already in trouble. Clara not so subtly teased Ahmed, who thought she leaned forward for a chocolate covered strawberry so as to give him a better view of her tits. But that same motion slid her dress up just enough that I could feel the heat radiating from her crotch as my hand traced down her ass. As I worked a fingertip to her inviting hole, she obediently shifted her weight, spreading her legs behind the counter. As her lips parted, I felt the first of her wetness as my fingertip entered her. I planted my palm firmly against her and quickly worked my finger two knuckles deep into her tight slit. She wrapped her lips around the strawberry and took a bite, pretending that her surprise was the berry juice and not her dripping pussy being fingered.
Five seconds in her honeypot felt like 5 hours and when I couldn’t fake it anymore as just resting my hand on her ass. I brought it back above the counter. I didn’t even think as I raised it to my mouth and tasted her sweet juice sucking it off the last knuckle. Ameena missed it. Ahmed didn’t. His eyes grew wide and flitted back and forth furtively. Clara was still smiling and she noticed, too, confirming Ahmed’s suspicions by shimmying her dress back down as she stood up.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/10flv0l/the_sexiest_whisper_mf
The night continued on and as everyone liquored up, our inhibitions came down, too. Just then, Diana, ever the perfect host, purposefully changed the lighting and the music and the ambience quickly shifted from one of a somewhat raucous party to a much more intimate one. Watching Clara move to sit in her best friend’s husband’s lap and wrap her hands around his neck to talk to share genuine, intimate and meaningful friendship while relishing his struggle not to get a hard-on from the view down her dress was every bit as endearing as it was subtly erotic. Though I was certainly myself distracted by Diana coming straight to me, wrapping her arms around my neck and dancing slowly with me in the middle of her living room. I wrapped my arms around her waist, holding my wrist behind her back, the gravity weight of my arms pulling her closer. We spoke softly now, our faces not more than a few inches apart. “Your wife is really stealing the show tonight, you know.” I smiled, glancing over her shoulder at Clara, who had her head thrown back in laughter over something. “There isn’t a person here, man or woman, who hasn’t had at least one less-than-couth thought about her, present company included.” I chuckled, for we all knew Diana, though married, batted for both teams, “Oh, really, like what?”
“Well for starters, we all know she’s not wearing any panties and that you fingered her at the counter about an hour ago.” I froze. “Oh relax, Ahmed already told everyone, nothing you can do about it now except let the boys have their fantasies.”
I looked over a Clara again, now pressed against Ahmed, taking a selfie with one hand, holding his hand wrapped around her waist just above her pubic bone as his wife looked on disapprovingly. I caught myself trying to look up her dress, too. “Yeah,” Diana sighed, turning to my side, holding my arm and resting her head on my shoulder, both of us staring longingly at the same woman. “I’d fuck her, too.” Me, too, Diana, me too.
Four and half hours into the party, couples had started to get handsy. The lights were now dim. Pairing off one by one, some moved to the corners to talk and make out, some to the living room to dance where hands could roam freely, others to a couch where blankets paid lip-service to hiding the action.
Clara and I finally found our way into each others arms in the dance area and she pressed her back into me, gyrating her hips slowly against me, her slightly unfocused eyes betraying her disinhibition as she pressed her body against mine. We didn’t speak but she moved my hands over her body, first across her taut abdomen, and across her prominent hip bones, then up over her breasts. She cupped her breasts with both my hands and made me to squeeze her tits softly. “Ooh” she exhaled breathlessly. Leaving my left hand to work her breast through the thin fabric of her dress, she moved my right hand down over her mons, my fingertips tracing the hemline barely hiding her shaven pussy. My cock grew hard involuntarily and she felt it through her dress.
That was incredibly well written and probably one of the hottest stories I’ve ever read on here.