Miles and Sara were driving to the mall downtown. He had been told that it was tradition for the husbands to pick out the outfit their wives would wear during the dinner. There was no set rule. Any man could dress his wife in any way he was comfortable with, and in turn, she would be treated by the clients regarding how much or how little she was dressed.
Miles's heart was already going a mile a minute as they entered the lingerie store.
“Alright. What do you want me to wear?” she said, playfully.
They walked around the whole store first, looking at their options. He had already made his mind up a couple of days earlier, though, but was hesitant to tell her right away. After he sensed her getting annoyed by his indifference to her suggestions, he led her over to a mannequin towards the back of the store. The mannequin was just a pair of legs, with stockings, a garter belt, and black panties.
“This,” he said.
“I like it,” Sara said as she began to grab a pair from below the display, “We will have to go back towards the front to get a pair of black panties.”
“No panties,” Miles said looking at her.
He was nervous, wondering if she would be upset. She would know what this means. She would be completely available to any man who wanted her.
"Are you sure?" Sara said, with a half smile. Miles could tell she was a little reluctant.
“I mean, that's what I was thinking. If you're not comfortable with it, we could get some panties for you to wear. You would at least be topless.”
Sara turned and looked at the mannequin thinking it over. This would be the next step in their journey into exhibitionism. It wouldn't even be exhibitionism, it would be her possibly getting fucked by another man.
“Okay, I'll do it,” she said. Her smile returned.
They purchased the set and quickly returned to their small one-bedroom apartment.
Miles insisted she put them on. He sat on the edge of the bed resisting the urge to stroke his cock, which was rock hard in anticipation.
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Miles and Sara had been married for a little under five years. They were in their late twenties and both worked menial jobs. Miles worked phone support for a cell phone provider and Sara managed the women's department for a retail chain. They didn't make good money, but they weren't living in poverty.
Both came from lower middle-class homes. They had met while going to a local community college, but they ended up dropping out together to get married. They both had a bit of a past, Sara's being far more promiscuous, but once they got together they were faithful to each other. Miles knew Sara was a bit of an exhibitionist and loved to try to get her to show off. Eventually, one night while drinking with some friends, he was able to get her to completely remove her top for the rest of the evening, giving his friends a show. This led to a phone call about the dinner one evening while stuck in traffic on his way home from work.
“This is Miles.”
“Miles. My name is Jack Thomas. I'm a cousin of your friend Alex. He had referred you to us saying you and your wife were a bit adventurous. He also mentioned you may be able to use a little bit of extra money.”
Miles was stunned and embarrassed. He and Alex had been friends since high school. He was there the night Sara went topless and Miles had told him about their 'adventures' together. He couldn't believe Alex had told anyone else let alone some cousin Miles had only once heard about in passing.
“I'm sorry, I...I'm not sure what you're getting at.” He was a bit annoyed by Alex's betrayal.
“I'm not sure if Alex has ever mentioned it, but I manage R&R Butcher's downtown. I'm also an event coordinator. We do a lot of event dinners for charity, and we have one coming up. A couple of male societies have gotten together to solicit us for an event, but we're short a couple of ladies.
I'll be upfront with you. My wife and I are also exhibitionists. We came up with this idea for a charity dinner with topless waitresses. It was a bit of a fantasy of mine, to see my wife wait on men topless. It was an immediate success, so we kind of expanded it and evolved the idea. We invite married women to come and serve drinks to our clients in whatever risque outfit they feel comfortable in. It's usually customary for the husband to pick out what they wear, I find it adds to the excitement, but whatever you and your wife's lifestyle dictates.”
“Wow.” Miles was no longer angry at Alex. “You want Sara, I mean, my wife to serve at this next event?”
“Yes. She would be serving drinks to the guests, but her role will be very light. It's a five-hour event and I don't want the girls to get exhausted doing any actual work. Your wife will also be allotted a half-hour break that she can take at her discretion. At midnight it ends. No matter what is going on, we end the dinner. The girls say goodbye to their guests and return to their dressing rooms. Then you can meet back with your wife and leave. During this event, you will be granted a small viewing room with amenities.”
“This is entirely consensual. She can choose to interact with the guests or not. If she chooses to do so, then what she wears will inform our guests of the kind of interaction she is willing to do. If she is topless, her breasts are free to use. If her ass is showing or she is wearing a thong, her ass is free to use. If her pussy is out, that is also free to be used as a guest sees fit. If, at any moment, she does not want to engage with a client, she can tap them on the shoulder twice. That will let them know to stop. Thought if she taps more than one man, her time with us is over and she will not be paid, bar some extenuating circumstances. If it is too much for you to handle, you can call it off at any time, but again, you will not be paid. That said, her payment will be scaled to how far she is willing to go.”
“I understand...we're interested.” Miles felt his heart begin to race at the thought of his wife serving their guests. “Who is this event for?”
“Various clients. As I said before, it is usually men's groups. This coming event is for about three organizations for older men that have banded their money together. The clients will be men in their late fifties, mostly sixties and older.”
Miles had always been turned on by the idea of sharing Sara with another man. He would often try to pry stories out of her from her past exploits with other men. The idea that it would possibly be with older men made him feel more at ease. He felt like he could 'compete' better with them than with some stud in his early twenties.
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Sara exited from the bathroom, wearing what they had picked out. She was by no means fat but she had a little extra weight on her, which Miles loved. The stockings went up to her thighs. She had a little bit of a tummy that she was somewhat self-conscious of, but Miles knew the garter belt would cover that and make her feel more comfortable. Her breasts were a smaller D size with puffy nipples. The kind that drove him crazy. Miles thought her ass was nice and round, but Sara always disagreed with him saying it was flat. Her hair was shoulder-length. Brown and wavy. She had been the complete vision of perfection to him.
She stood in front of their vanity sink and did a spin for him. Miles got up and moved towards her. He turned her back around bending her over the bathroom sink. He didn't last long though.
“I'm sorry,” Miles said. catching his breath.
“No problem.” Sara turned around and wrapped her arms around him. “We're going for a round two in a couple of minutes anyway.”
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The day of the dinner Sara put on the nicest dress she had. A small black dress that showed some cleavage and came down to just above her knee. She had decided to wear her hair up in a curly bun. Miles had a suit that he had been given by a family member that he wore.
Jack had told them to tell the receptionist that they were the entertainment. She led them, behind the counter, down a flight of stairs to a small antechamber with an empty receptionist desk and a couch. It was one of the nicest rooms Miles had ever been in.
The receptionist then handed Miles and Sara each a black masquerade-style mask.
“To keep your anonymity among the other husbands and entertainers. Now, you can say your goodbyes and when it's over, sir, you can go through that door to find your wife. She will be in room eleven.”
Sara and Miles looked at each other. Both were full of nervous excitement.
“I love you,” Sara said.
“I love you too.”
They kissed and then separated through opposite doors.
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Sara was led to a small dressing room with a large vanity and a leather couch against the wall. There was also a fancy wooden wardrobe that was open with some empty hangers, for the clothes she was about to remove. On the wall by the door was a golden robe hanging.
The room made Sara feel like she was famous. She was amazed at how expensive everything looked.
“Here you can change into your outfit. Will you be donning a white mask or a golden one?”
She knew that a white mask meant she was off limits from the clients. A golden one meant she was theirs to enjoy.
“A gold one,” Sara said after a moment's hesitation.
“If you are unsure, I would strongly suggest a white one for this evening.”
“No,” Sara insisted. “I'm sure.”
The woman handed her a gold mask. It was a full face mask made of an odd material she had never felt before. Was firm and hid her face but felt as though it was very light. Almost fragile.
“In ten minutes I will have you line up with the rest of the women at the far end of the hall. Enjoy your night.”
She then turned and exited the room, closing the door behind her.
Sara was a little embarrassed. She wondered what the woman had thought of her, but she quickly pushed that out of her mind.
Standing in front of the large vanity mirror she took off her dress. She stood there for a moment contemplating if she would remove her panties.
She had been very promiscuous before she met Miles, but had not been with anyone else since they got together. It had been about seven years since another man touched her, kissed her...or fucked her.
Miles had known about her past, but not the full extent of it. For the first time since they had gotten together a lot of the old, intoxicating feelings were beginning to rush back.
She slipped her panties off and looked at her shaved pussy in the mirror. No razor bumps...none on her legs either. She was glad of that. She grabbed the golden robe by the door, slipped it on, then exited the room.
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Miles was led up some stairs to a single room with a large chair. It looked like the most comfortable barcalounger he had ever seen. Next to the door was a small counter with a stool. On the counter was a platter with an assortment of food on it. There was a small sink and fridge behind the counter.
The man that had led him there, a younger man in a black suit and matching mask, motioned towards the counter.
“Please, make yourself comfortable. In case you get hungry, please help yourself. If you can't help yourself,” the man motioned to a box of tissues on the countertop.
“Please be sure to deposit them in the waste basket when you are finished. The room is cleaned after each event, but we would ask that you would be courteous and not leave a mess for the cleaning crew.”
“Oh...of course,” Miles was a little embarrassed.
"And if you would like to leave at any time. There is a red button marked 'security' under the thermostat against the far wall there. Press it and we will inform your wife that it's time to leave."
The man bowed and left the room. The barcalounger faced a large one-way mirror that looked down onto a ballroom. In the center were about twenty round tables set up. He could see a huge buffet against one wall, and on the other side was a bar that had a couple of guys with black masks and suits making drinks. It looks as though dinner was winding down. Each table was full of old men wearing suits. They sat and ate while conversing with one another. There were about ten other men, also in black masks and suits lined up against a wall with their hands behind their backs, almost at attention.
Miles looked at a clock on the wall above the door. It was ten to seven. Almost time.
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Sara lined up along with about fifteen other women, she guessed. They were all wearing golden robes. Most of the women had gold masks on, but about five had white. She was glad to see that there were various body sizes in the lineup. She wasn't too self-conscious about her own body, but it still helped calm her nerves.
The receptionist appeared again standing in front of them with a large set of double doors behind her.
“You may remove your robes.”
The women did. Sara tried to sneak a look at the other women. Next to her was a woman with light brown skin who was about thirty pounds heavier than her, she estimated. She was also in a gold mask but was completely nude.
The woman on the other side of her was in a full evening gown though with a white mask.
“Why is she even here?” Sara thought.
Beyond the doors, they could hear an announcer get the attention of the room.
“Now gentlemen, I hope you have enjoyed your dinner. We will now begin serving drinks.”
She heard the men applaud as the doors began to open.
The receptionist lead them out and lined them up against the wall. Sara's heart began racing. She was standing nude in front of about fifty men, she guessed. Most were very much in their sixties. There were also about fifteen young men in black suits working the bar and standing around.
She looked up to see the ballroom lined with one-way mirrors. Miles was up there. The thought of him watching her all night began to turn her on.
Just then one of the young men at the bar walked over and handed her a martini.
“Table five, seat four. The numbers are at the center of the table. If you have any trouble feel free to return and I will help you find it.”
He then walked away. Sara was surprised at how he seemed to not notice her standing there nude.
"He must be jaded by all this," she thought.
She then began walking around the dining area, looking at the table numbers and taking in all the hungry looks she was getting. She found the table and walked around to the opposite side. There a thin man with a bald, liver-spotted head smiled at her as she approached.
“Thank you, my dear,” he said.
She went to hand him the drink.
“Could you be so kind as to place it on my table for me?"
Sara nodded and leaned over to place the drink in front of the man. His right hand went up and she felt it caress and squeeze the right side of her ass. She stood back up, the man thanking her again as he removed his hand.
She was on fire. Another man, not her husband, had touched her. The man was not attractive to her in any sense, but knowing that Miles was looking down on her was beginning to make her wet. She looked at the rest of the men at the table. They looked her up and down, all the while surveying the other wives as well.
Sara returned to the bar. She was handed a small glass, by another young man in a mask.
“Table Nine, Seat Two."
She walked around and found the table. As she approached she stopped for a second. Seat two...
“Oh, my God!” she thought, “That's Arnold!”
Arnold was an old man who lived about four doors down from them.
“I think he works at Wal-Mart. He must have saved up all year for this!”
“If you are uncomfortable just tap the guy's shoulder twice to let him know his advances are not welcome,” she remembered Miles telling her. But if it happened again that would be the end of it. She would be sent off without any pay. Aside from the money, she was beginning to enjoy herself as well. Turned on by the thought of Miles watching Arnold grope her.
She approached the table, and as she went to lean in to give him his drink he moved his chair out.
Arnold was not a big guy but he did have a rather large gut. He thanked her and ran the back of his hand along the outside of her thigh before turning his attention to the conversation he was having with another man at the table.
“That's it?” she thought. She was a little disappointed.
Sara returned to get another drink to deliver. As she was delivering drinks she noticed the men who were once lined up against the wall were serving drinks to the men as well.
“They're getting the drinks out quickly so we can move on to whatever is next,” she guessed.
As she began to return to the bar yet again, a deep voice came from behind her.
“Walk with me to the bar, my dear.”
A large man almost lifted her off her feet as he rushed past her, wrapping his arm around her waist.
“I hope you are enjoying yourself this evening. I know I am.”
The man moved his large hand from her waist and squeezed her breast. He held it there until they approached the bar.
“I'll have another Scotch, please,” the man told the bartender.
As he and the bartender made small talk, Sara took the time to survey the room. She found the tan-skinned woman who stood by her in the hallways leaning over a table.
“Oh my,” Sara thought as she noticed two older men appearing to be taking turns fingering her as her face lie down on the table. Her movements suggested she was enjoying herself.
“If you would be so kind as to spread your legs a little, my dear?” the man said, interrupting her thoughts.
Sara liked the timbre of his voice. She did as he asked.
The man, Scotch in one hand, reached the other down towards her pussy. She let out a sharp inhale as the man pushed his middle finger into her. He then pulled it out and began stirring his drink with the same finger.
