Abbey’s perspective

As soon as George went to work, Abbey started to prepare for the night. She pulled out some options of clothes and tried things on. Fancy lingerie, tube tops and jackets, she settled on her tight red party dress. She had never worn it out before; it was more a thing for bedroom play. This was because it was tight, and she struggled to keep her breasts under control; too much movement and one of her tits would pop out.

As she slipped it on and looked in the mirror, she smiled. She’d never realised that under intense light, it became see-through where it stretched over her curves. She bit her lip as she thought about how she needed to make sure wherever she went had intense lighting.

Thinking about the night took her back to her bed; she stripped off and started to play with her pussy. She was horny, and she was wet. She wanted cock, and right then, she didn’t care whose it was.

Unable to stand the arousal without stimulation, she grabbed her laptop and started perusing stories of slut wives. Many were tropey, which wasn’t a problem, but she wanted something meatier. Eventually, she found a story about a family going on a cruise. It was long, written in chapters on a free story website. Each chapter was several pages, and there were about fifteen of them.

Abbey made herself a coffee and started to read. The wife was manhandled through customs, which turned her and her husband on. But when they got to their hotel in Venice, the attendant told them that the customs officer had made a notation in her passport, which would let others know she could be manhandled. Quickly the couple agreed to go with it and asked the attendant if he could add further notations.

The attendant smiled and said he would be glad to, in return for a blowjob. The wife didn’t hesitate, walked around the desk to kneel, and started to please him. The attendant told the husband it might take some time as she would probably service all the staff behind the desk.

The husband only laughed and took the last bags upstairs to the room where his children waited.

They decided to go out. It was Carnivale, after all. Quickly the two young adults went their own way, which the husband was happy with. If his wife was busy getting fucked, he would try and do the same.

He went through a few bars before literally running into a young woman wearing a bikini and a Venetian Cat mask. He was surprised when he realised she spoke English and apologised for it before offering to buy her a drink to make up for it.

The woman accepted, even though she could hardly be half her age, and the husband noted her accent meandered, never quite being consistent. After a few drinks, they ended up in a small alleyway where the young woman knelt and begged to suck his cock. Eagerly he accepted, but when he tried to remove her mask, she refused.

He pressed her against the alley wall and fucked her roughly until he came, only afterwards considering protection. But she didn’t seem to mind. When he returned to the hotel room, he found his wife asleep, dripping with cum and wondered what would come from all of this.

The story continued to reveal that the Venetian Cat was the daughter, and the wife had her birth control confiscated. Eventually, the son learned about the shenanigans and begged to fuck his mother.

When the wife, without any protection, was fucked without protection by the locals in Tunisia, Abbey decided she needed to share this with George. She linked him to it and sent several teasing messages before deciding she needed to confide in someone about what was about to happen. She called one of her friends and explained everything, and Jenny, her friend since high school, only replied that she wished her husband was so adventurous.

By this stage, much of the day had passed, and Abbey decided to start getting ready. She had a long shower and shaved. Moisturised, making sure to send George photos of each stage.

But when she was finally ready, she realised her nerves were getting the best of her. Abbey smiled to herself; she knew how to fix this.

She stripped off again and sat down with a glass of wine and a joint. She knew from experience that when she smoked, she had few inhibitions. The first time George fucked her arse was when they shared a joint, and she had since come to love it.

Soon enough, it was time to head out. She ordered an Uber and got in, excited for the night. She let George know she’d smoked a joint; he would know what that meant.

The driver was friendly and chatty but not overly so. But Abbey noticed that he kept looking in the mirror when they were stopped at lights. “Is everything alright?” she asked him.

He cleared his throat before saying, “Well, I’m sorry, but, well, when the lights of other cars pass by, your dress becomes quite see-through.”

Abbey laughed, “Well, do you think I will catch the attention of some lucky guy at the bar?”

He laughed in return, “If I did not have a wife, you would have my attention,” he said.

Abbey laughed again, “Well, I have a husband, and he is fine with it, so if you ever change your mind.”