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Saturday night, my husband’s office had a “team building” event at one of the local campgrounds. The company rented out a large, ten plus bedroom cabin for the team members and their spouses (if they were married). The goal really was more about getting everyone together outside of work, enjoying time together in the outdoors, and letting loose a little bit.
When we got there, we were excited to see the cabin. Obviously it was huge, having that many bedrooms, spread over three levels. There was a huge kitchen, game room with video games, pool table, and a bar, fantastic two level deck, a hot tub, pool, and on and on.
As soon as the group was together, and introductions of all the spouses were made, my husband’s boss, Dave, broke out the drinks. He brought with him a huge selection of liquors and mixers, and knew how to make a pretty long list of drinks using what he brought.
My husband has told me a lot about Dave, since that’s who he reports to directly, and usually, it isn’t too positive. Apparently Dave is more concerned with making himself look good than helping out his team. He is always putting down my husband and the others on the team to his supervisors, and for some reason views himself as God’s gift to everyone.
Dave isn’t entirely unattractive, standing around 6’3″ or 6’4″. He looks like he was once an athlete with a powerful build, though he also carries a little extra weight in the midsection like many former athletes do. His brown hair is gelled forward in a messy way that was popular maybe 10 years ago when he was likely in his prime, and he wears clothes that are a size too small and for someone in their 20s, not for him in his early 40s. He is loud and boisterous, and is always at the center of everything.
My husband has worked at the company for about 6 years now, and compared to Dave, tends to get lost in the shadow. He is around 5’10”, 150 lbs, brown hair and eyes, and is genuinely the sweetest guy I know, which is what I love most about him.
Throughout the evening, Dave made sure everyone’s drinks stayed full, he ordered in a large dinner, and we had a lot of fun playing games, sharing stories, and laughed a lot. Having really not met many of his coworkers before, I really enjoyed myself, and got way more drunk than I had planned. I did get a little uncomfortable at times because everytime Dave came around, he would drape his arm around my shoulders, and made suggestive comments to me and the other women, let his fingers linger on my hand each time he would hand me a drink, just lots of little things like that. My husband didn’t seem too worried when I mentioned it to him, telling me “it’s just how Dave is,” but it was still a little uncomfortable.
To describe myself a little, I’m 5’4″, 135 lbs, have light brown hair and blue eyes, have a little extra weight from having a couple kids, but my 34C breasts are still pretty firm and my legs and butt give me a decent hourglass shape. I try to stay in shape, and have done a decent job getting back to within around 10 lbs from prebaby weight. For this event, I tried balancing fun and practical with what I wore, pairing black yoga pants, a long white sheer top that exposed a black halter top underneath, and a pair of low top, canvas style shoes. It seemed to work as a few of the other wives thought it was a cute outfit, and there were more than a couple guys letting their glances linger a little longer than they should have. It made me feel y, and proud that the other guys might be jealous of my husband.
For a majority of the evening, I really tried staying with my husband as much as possible, every once in awhile getting involved in some girl talk with one or two of the other women, but nothing too crazy. This group really was a very fun, friendly group, and I was really enjoying myself.
As the evening was winding down, a small group of us ended up in Dave’s suite, sharing another drink and chatting. By this point, it was pretty obvious everyone was drunk. People were wobbly when they were standing, slurring words, and a couple of the other women were passed out. I’m not sure how much I had, but it was certainly more them my typical glass or two of wine, and who knows how much Dave was actually putting in each drink.
Now, like many people, when I get drunk, I get super horny, so, I leaned into my husband’s ear and told him it was time to get to bed, with a little nibble on his ear lobe. He got the hint and we headed to our room and wasted no time in getting undressed and in bed.
Sometimes my husband has a little trouble when he has been drinking, and after stroking his dick for a few minutes, and then giving him a blowjob for what felt like forever, he was finally hard enough for . I climbed up on top of him, lowered myself onto him and started riding him. This has always been his favorite position because he said he likes how my boobs bounce while I rock back and forth. Now my husband isn’t very big, between 5 and 6 inches with average thickness, but it has always been enough to get me off, however this time, he apparently drank a little too much and went soft again halfway there. I rolled off and tried getting him hard again, using all the tricks I normally use, but had no luck. I considered finishing myself, but I gave up, gave him a kiss, and disappointed, rolled over as we both passed out.
A couple hours later (at least I think, I didn’t check the clock), I woke up and really had to use the bathroom. I got up, found one of my husbands tshirts, and made my way into the hallway to find the bathroom. I was still not thinking real straight, and definitely still wobbly on my feet. I went down a floor, found the bathroom, went, and came back out.
It was dark, but I was able to find my way back to the familiar door and walked in. I tried being quiet as I came in, but in my mind, I felt like I must have just turned too quick and bumped the bookshelf by the door, which I definitely thought was further in the room.
I took off my husband’s shirt and climbed into bed. I shuddered as I couldn’t believe my spot got so cold so fast, it really wasn’t cold in the house, and I wasn’t gone more than a couple minutes. I also wondered when my husband had put his boxers back on as I hadn’t felt him get up at all and could have sworn they weren’t on when I got up because I had to move them to pick up his shirt.
As I cuddled up next to him, I noticed something else was very different, and got the shock of my life as Dave turned towards me, eyes half open and wondering what was going on. Thats when it hit me that the door I went to was familiar because we had spent time in there earlier, not because it was my room. I was processing this as Dave’s hand roamed over my naked body, stopping once to give my ass a squeeze, and next to enjoy my hard nipple.
He moved in and started kissing me. I panicked, I didn’t know what to do. If I freaked out or screamed, or anything, I knew it would draw attention, and that was the last thing I wanted. I had to just let things play out for a minute while I gathered my thiughts, and hope he passed back out quickly.
His hands continued exploring my body, squeezing my breasts, pinching my nipples, grabbing my ass… and he kept kissing me, which I started to realize he was surprisingly good at. I didn’t notice that his hand ran down my front, and his finger found its way to my clit. I jumped slightly as he started playing with it, and after a couple minutes orgasmed, as I had lots of built up energy from the bad with my husband, and Dave knew his way around down there.
After coming down from my orgasm, Dave started kissing down my neck, down my chest and to my breasts. He took my nipple in his mouth, flicked it with his tongue as he buried three of his fingers deep in my pussy, bringing me right back to the edge. His lips continuing to work on my boobs and his fingers moving in and out was driving me wild, he knew what he was doing, and I was no longer thinking about how to get out of this, I was waanting it.
Then, it was like a flip switched, he pulled his fingers out of me, pushed me onto my back and climbed on top. He practically ripped his boxers off and thrust his dick in me. Turns out his dick is significantly bigger than my husband, and I had to bury my face into his chest to muffle my scream. He didn’t slow at all, instead it made him go faster and harder, and all I could do was hold on and bury my face. I feel like it was a steady stream of orgasms, one after another. His intensity and raw, unbridled energy overwhelmed me. Even if I had wanted to, I wouldn’t have been able to stop. His body against mine, sweat building between us, and the feel of his hard cock stretching me to my limit was more than I could handle. Every time I came down from one orgasm, the next one started, until finally he tensed, and I felt him unload deep inside of me.
As soon as he finished, he rolled over and passed out immediately. I waited until I was sure he was out, got up, and stumbled back to my room, tshirt in hand and Dave’s cum running down my legs. If anyone had come into the hallway and seen me I wouldn’t have cared at that point, I was still in a trance.
When I climbed in my own bed (I made sure this time), my husband turned to me and asked if I was alright, which I of course told him yes. He took my hand and put it on his now hard, and now unimpressive dick, and said “looks like I’m ready to go” as he started kissing me. He ran his hand down to my pussy and pulled his head back quickly, and I thought for sure he knew. He smiled, and said “looks like someone else is ready too, I’ve never felt you this wet.”
He rolled on top of me and started thrusting. After Dave, I really couldn’t feel my husband. I felt his body on me obviously, but I was so stretched and lubed from my own juices mixed with Dave’s cum, that he just slid in and out too easily. I pretended to enjoy it, and right as he tensed to cum, I faked an orgasm of my own. He kissed me, told me he loved me, and we both passed out.
In the morning, I wasn’t sure how things were going to go, but I really needed coffee, so I got up with my husband and walked downstairs. Dave was sitting at the table, talking about this wild dream he had the night before. When we walked in, he stopped and stared at me, like he just realized it was me and was trying to figure out if it was a dream or real. I looked at him with the best confused look I could muster and he just kinda shook his head and continued talking about his “dream”.
It seemed like the rest of the day he was still trying to piece things together, but I did my best to throw him off, talking about my great night of sleep, how comfortable the bed was, and everything I could think of. When we left that afternoon, I was a bit disappointed. I would have loved one more night of that intensity.
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