Wife's exciting thrill: open to any man when she wearing her spandex

[silkensoyeur]

I'm a guy with a serious thing for shiny spandex tights and leggings. Whenever my wife and I are intimate, I always make sure she's wearing her shiny spandex. Over time, a thought started to form in my mind: I wanted to see other men touch my wife while she was in her spandex, maybe even more than just touching.

**************************************************************************************************************

This desire actually became a reality pretty quickly. Once, my wife and I went to see a show in the town square. She was wearing shiny black leggings and a coat. While we were watching, I was standing behind her, and I started to put my hand on her butt and give it a stroke. After a little while, a stranger came and stood right next to me, but I didn't really pay him any mind. Then, as the crowd got thicker, I got pushed away from my wife and ended up standing outside the main group to keep watching the performance. After a bit, my wife realized I wasn't next to her anymore, and she rushed over to me, looking a little panicked.

I could see my wife was all flustered, so I asked her what was wrong. She told me that some stranger had been touching her for quite a while. At first, she'd thought it was me, and then she started getting turned on and kept shifting her legs around. To get a better feel, the guy had actually lifted her coat and tucked it up around her waist, and then started really kneading her spandex-covered butt and reached down to touch her intimately.

Since my wife thought it was me touching her, she was a little surprised at how forward I was being, but she didn't really question it. Then, she said the man unzipped his pants, got his penis out, and started rubbing it against her butt. Still thinking it was me, my wife just went with it, positioned his penis between her legs, and started rubbing back and forth. Even his penis was very different than mine, my wife was so turned on she didn't even realize, and she even used her fingers to play with the head and the opening.

Seeing my wife's reaction, the guy figured she was some young woman trying to pick someone up, so he decided to take things to the next level. He pulled his penis out from between her legs, yanked her shiny leggings and underwear down to her knees, and got ready to force himself inside her. My wife was still wondering why I was being so aggressive, but just as she was still confused, the crowd surged again and pushed her away from the man. It was then she finally realized it had been a total stranger touching her the whole time.

**************************************************************************************************************

I reassured my wife, and she calmed down pretty quickly. She then noticed that I was getting hard, and she also admitted that what had just happened had actually really turned her on. Hearing her say that, I asked if she wanted to go back and let the guy touch her again, and maybe, if the opportunity arose, even help him finish. She was a bit taken aback when I suggested it, but she was still feeling really aroused from the experience, still riding that wave of excitement, and she actually was in the mood to be with a man. After thinking it over for a moment, she nodded. Since this was her first time being intimate with another man, I told her to be careful and that it was probably best if she didn't let him actually penetrate her.

With that, my wife went back to where we'd been standing by herself. The man was still there. She walked right up to him, and he recognized her immediately – or, more accurately, he recognized the shiny spandex on her legs. Not many women wear those kinds of bright, attention-grabbing pants in everyday life, especially not shiny ones like that. And since my wife has a great figure, she really turns heads when she wears those kinds of sexy shiny tights.

The man stared at my wife for a moment. She got a little shy from his gaze and quietly stepped in front of him, taking off her coat and holding it in her hand. My wife was only wearing those shiny leggings on her lower body, no skirt or shorts, so her sexy legs and ass were completely exposed to the man, gleaming in the sunlight. The man seemed to understand what my wife was suggesting. He boldly reached out and started caressing her butt, enjoying the feeling of his hand rubbing against the spandex. Then, he moved his right hand to the front, and started teasing my wife's clitoris through her leggings. It didn't take long for my wife to get turned on, and she started letting out soft moans.

Luckily, the loudspeakers were really loud, so they completely drowned out my wife's sounds. After teasing her for a bit, the man slipped his hand inside her leggings, directly touching her intimately. He inserted his fingers into my wife's vagina and found she was already soaking wet. The, he leaned in close to my wife's ear and said something, I couldn't hear what they were saying, but my wife shook her head, then whispered something back to the man. He looked a little deflated. I'm guessing he'd just asked my wife if they could have sex, but she'd turned him down to keep her promise to me.

As a way to make it up to him, my wife took his hand and placed it on her thigh, kind of hinting that there were other ways he could take care of his needs. The man's eyes went right back to my wife's legs. The way the spandex reflected the light in such a sexy way seemed to give him an idea. He asked my wife a few more questions, and after she nodded, she and the man started walking away together. My wife glanced back at me quickly, and I made sure to follow behind them. The man led my wife to a small alleyway. They stood facing each other, and he told her to spread her legs. He positioned his penis right in the gap between her thighs and ordered her to close her legs and squeeze him tight. And just like that, the man started holding my wife close, kissing her, and grinding against her inner thighs, letting his penis rub intensely against the shiny leggings.

I quietly moved a little closer. The man was thrusting fast, with his back to me, so he didn't notice I was there. When my wife saw me coming closer, I ducked behind a box and gestured for her to be quiet, signaling her not to make a sound. At this point, my wife was incredibly nervous, because she was making out with another man right in front of her husband. This kind of taboo experience was giving her a thrill like never before. I could see that my wife's leggings were soaked, and there was a lot of liquid running down her legs and onto the ground. I guess she was really enjoying herself in that moment.

The man started thrusting faster and faster, and I could hear him breathing heavily, like he was about to come. Just a few minutes later, he suddenly pulled his penis out, and then used his hands to clamp my wife's legs together as tightly as he could. He pressed the head of his penis hard against her vaginal opening, and a huge amount of semen erupted out, all over my wife's body. He shot a lot – even through the spandex, I bet a good bit of it still managed to get inside her.

My wife was a little taken aback by how sudden the man was, but she didn't resist at all, just kept letting him play with her legs. After he came, the man rubbed the head of his penis against my wife's thighs, smearing all the leftover semen onto her shiny leggings. Then, after wiping himself off, he pulled up his pants and just left the alley.

After the man walked off, I rushed over to my wife. Seeing her legs covered in semen and her clothes all messed up, I felt a pang of guilt, but the bulge in my pants told a different story. The excitement from seeing all that was way more intense than anything we'd done before. My wife just stared at my crotch for a moment, then she straightened out her clothes and tied her coat around her waist to hide the semen on her legs. And then we hurried home.

**************************************************************************************************************

On the way home, my wife's face was flushed red, like a ripe, tempting apple. I was already desperate to fuck her. I could tell my wife was feeling the same way; what had just happened had given her a kind of thrill she'd never experienced before. Her empty vagina was aching for it, but she'd still kept her promise to me and hadn't let that guy penetrate her, which I really appreciated. As soon as we got home, I couldn't wait and carried my wife straight to the bed. Her legs were still covered with that man's semen. I pulled her leggings down a bit and saw that there was still a lot of semen around her vulva. Using that as extra lube, I slid my penis easily inside her and started thrusting hard and fast. My wife started moaning with pleasure right away.

We really enjoyed it, it was amazing. After we were done, my wife remembered that there was still semen from that other man around her vagina. When I'd just fucked her, I must have pushed some of it further in. Even though there was a risk of her getting pregnant, the thought of my wife maybe carrying another man's child actually turned me on even more. My wife seemed to know what I was thinking, he poked my still-hard penis and said I must be having dirty thoughts. I just smiled and told her that I'd probably pushed some of that guy's semen into her when we were just having sex. And if she really did get pregnant with his baby, I'd raise it as my own. My wife blushed and playfully punched me, saying that most guys would be terrified of their wives getting pregnant by someone else, but you were just different.

After a short break, we started talking about what had happened earlier again. We both admitted that today's experience had given us a rush like never before, and we both really liked that feeling. I asked my wife what the man had whispered to her back in the square. She hesitated and then told me that the man had seemed really bummed out when he heard he couldn't fuck her vagina. But my wife quickly added that he could use other parts of her body instead, anywhere he wanted. That gave the man a new idea right away. He'd seen my wife in those sexy leggings, and he suggested fucking her thighs. My wife said that when she saw the size of his penis, she was actually relieved he hadn't fucked her vagina – it looked so huge, she probably wouldn't have been able to handle it. But I kind of got stuck on the phrase "using other parts of her body at will." I don't know why, but when I heard that, it was like I was possessed. Just the thought of my amazing wife in those shiny, sexy leggings, and some other guy being able to use her body however he wanted… that image just sent shivers of excitement through me.

Right then, a really bold idea popped into my head. After thinking it over, I asked my wife if she'd ever want to experience something like this again. She pursed her lips for a second and then said she thought she would. I told her, what if we came up with a kind of “switch”? When the switch was on, she would let strange men use her body however they wanted, but when the switch was off, it would all stop, and we'd go back to our normal life. That way, we could get to experience this thrill, but make sure it didn't mess up our regular life. My wife thought that sounded pretty interesting, and asked me what I meant by “switch” exactly.

I looked down at my wife's beautiful legs, thinking back to what had happened earlier. I asked her, "What if we used the spandex as the 'switch'? Specifically, when you put on the spandex, it means you're open to letting strange men use your body however they want, and that would include your vagina too." When my wife heard that, her face turned completely red, and I could see her heart was racing. She said, "Wouldn't that be... too extreme?" I told her that if we were going to chase this kind of thrill, we had to be bold. And remember, she could turn off the 'switch' by just taking off the spandex, and then everything would go back to normal.

My wife thought that made sense. So we started talking about more of the specifics. We figured that since both of us were going to get a huge thrill and a lot of excitement out of this, but the strange men wouldn't know anything about the 'switch', we should come up with some rules to make things fair and balanced. So, we agreed on a few things to make sure everyone's rights and responsibilities were clear:

1.We'll set a specific 'active time' period. During that time, my wife must wear a spandex tights or leggings and she couldn't take it off. Outside of that time, she could decide for herself whether or not to wear it.

2.Whenever my wife was wearing a spandex, she had to agree to any request from any man, no matter how extreme or outrageous it might be. She had to say 'yes' to everything.

3.During the 'active time,' I could communicate with my wife or watch what was happening, but I couldn't stop any stranger from doing anything he wanted to my wife.

We knew these rules could be risky, but we also knew that without risk, there's no real thrill. We talked it over carefully and decided that these rules were the best way to get the kind of thrill we were looking for. We swore to each other that we'd stick to these rules completely. And to avoid any other problems, we decided to keep these rules a secret from the strangers.

[armyguyot1]

Welcome to the forum silkensoyeur.

[silkensoyeur]

Welcome to the forum silkensoyeur.

Thank you for approving my post. I hope my story will be appreciated by the people here.

[Cobra1000]

Well don’t stop now ! You got us all treed.

[silkensoyeur]

Well don’t stop now ! You got us all treed.

Thanks. This is a rather niche subject, and when I saw no one responding in these days, I thought people may not like it.
I've finished another part and look forward to readers sharing their thoughts on the writing.

[silkensoyeur]

Wife's Exciting Thrill 2: Shiny Lessons in Obedience

Even though these rules were thrilling, my wife felt they’d be hard to actually carry out. To ease her concerns, I decided she should get some practice first. After thinking it over, I figured starting with simple service-type tasks would be a good way to begin—helping her get used to following instructions while gradually adjusting to the gazes and touches of strangers. I told her that during this practice phase, she should try her best to meet others’ demands, but if something felt too outrageous, she could refuse.

*******************************************************************************************

The first step of her training was joining a community volunteer event to clean up the streets. I specifically asked her to wear those shiny black leggings—the skin-tight spandex shimmered under the sun, perfect for physical activity and eye-catching at the same time. After the event, I couldn’t wait to ask how it went. Blushing, she said it was easier than she’d expected; she just had to follow the organizer’s directions. But she admitted that every time she bent over to pick up trash, the leggings would cling tightly to her butt, the sunlight reflecting off them like flowing liquid, outlining her tempting curves. Passing men would stop in their tracks, their burning stares fixed on her lower body as if trying to see through the glossy fabric. She even overheard a few guys muttering, “Those pants are insanely sexy.” The sensation of being boldly ogled made her heart race and her cheeks flush, and slowly, a strange sense of satisfaction crept in. Hearing her recount this, I couldn’t hold back any longer—I scooped her onto the bed and ravaged her through those sun-warmed leggings.

After experiencing the chatter and stares while wearing the leggings, she started getting used to being watched, and I knew the first step was complete. Next, I found her a job as a waitress at a restaurant far enough from home that she wouldn’t run into anyone we knew. During her lunch break, she sent me a photo: she was wearing brown leggings paired with a short skirt bearing the restaurant’s logo. In the background, a man in his 40s—her boss—was standing behind her in the kitchen, staring at her legs with unmasked admiration. She told me he’d complimented her style, saying the leggings were trendy and attention-grabbing, perfect for drawing customers. He even wanted to order a batch with the restaurant’s logo for the female staff to wear as uniforms, doubling as promotion when they wore them out.

That night, she came home buzzing with stories from her day. Customers waved her over to order, and as she moved through the restaurant, she could feel men’s eyes glued to her thighs, their heat almost suffocating. I asked if she’d dealt with any difficult patrons, and she nodded. A drunk guy had called her over to pour him a drink. She hurried over, filled his glass, and was about to leave when he grabbed her wrist and slurred, “Hey, beautiful, sit with me a while.” She swallowed hard but sat beside him. His bleary eyes roamed as his rough hand slid over her thigh, coarse fingers rubbing her skin through the leggings, even daring to slip into her crotch and knead sensitive spots. She clenched her teeth, her face red as a ripe apple, caught between shame and the strange pleasure she had to stifle.

She grumbled to me, “It’s all because of that damn rule,” but I suspected she enjoyed it—otherwise, she wouldn’t have let him touch her so freely. At first, her boss was too busy with other customers to notice. It wasn’t until someone called for the check that he saw her tangled up with the drunk and rushed over to shoo him off. Afterward, he comforted her, saying, “You did great, just watch out for guys like that.” He paused, his gaze lingering on her legs, then added under his breath, “Though with that outfit, it’s hard for anyone to resist.” His suggestive comment made her heart skip, and by the time she told me this, my pants were straining. I should’ve protected her, but if I’d been there, I might’ve just watched her being toyed with, inching closer to sneak a better look.

*******************************************************************************************

That night, lying in bed next to my sleeping wife, a thought struck me: maybe it was time to send her somewhere wilder in those leggings. After two days of practice, she’d started adapting to following orders and accepting men’s stares and touches. I decided to up the ante and got her a bartender at a bar. Knowing the place would be full of rowdy drunks who might make bolder demands, I warned her to brace herself. She’d be working the night shift, and on the drive to drop her off, she fidgeted nervously with her hands. As I drove, I rested a hand on her thigh, stroking the familiar spandex to calm her, telling her to do her best. After seeing her off, I went home alone, tossing and turning in bed, staring at her empty pillow, unable to sleep. I texted her to check in but got no reply, eventually drifting off in a haze.

When the morning alarm jolted me awake, I scrambled up and saw two messages from her. The first read, “So many drunks here, I’ve been groped a bunch already.” The second: “Just got felt up hardcore, I might need to head back early.” My stomach clenched. I leapt out of bed and sped to the bar to pick her up. On the drive home, I asked what happened. Her voice was low as she explained: the night started easy—just taking orders and handling payments. But as it got busier, she was wiping down tables when a few drunks seized the chance to cop a feel of her thighs or ass. She endured it silently, not fighting back.

I pressed her for details on the second message. She swallowed, then spoke slowly: “While I was cleaning a table, this guy grabbed my ass so hard I flinched, dropped a glass, and it splashed all over my skirt. Instead of apologizing, he yelled, ‘Hey, beauty, your skirt’s soaked—take it off!’” Furious, she clenched her fists, but recalling my expectations, her hands moved on their own, unfastening the skirt and slipping it off, leaving her in just the leggings and a T-shirt to keep working. Hearing this, I was stunned yet thrilled. The square incident was bold, but stripping at a drunk’s command in a crowded bar was next-level unexpected.

I swallowed my excitement and asked what happened next. She grimaced and said the drunks got worse—some even demanded she sing on stage. Mortified, she wanted to disappear, but she dragged herself up there. The spotlight hit her, the leggings shimmering brilliantly, clinging to every curve. Whistles and boozy cheers erupted as men’s wolfish eyes devoured her. She powered through a shaky song, then bolted off stage. After that, every step brought hands groping her ass; she could only guard her front carefully to keep from losing control.

Hearing all this, I felt both a pang of sympathy for her and a huge surge of excitement. My dick was practically bursting out of my pants. But she looked exhausted, and I had to rush to work, so I had to suppress my urges. She just crashed and went straight to sleep as soon as we got home. I found myself staring at the leggings she’d just tossed on the couch. Those pants seemed to carry the bar’s chaos,the echoes of the noise and the feeling of strange men’s hands on her. Images of her being leered and fondled flooded my mind, my desire was completely overwhelming. With a little time before work, I snatched the leggings, slipped into the bathroom. While fantasizing about strangers touching my wife, I wrapped my dick in spandex and furiously jerked off. I came so much it soaked the spandex; I quickly washed and hung them to dry, praying she wouldn’t notice. Staring at them hanging there, I felt like a total perv, but imagining my wife wearing them, being toyed with by strangers... I just couldn’t stop myself.

She worked the bar a few more days, harassed daily—some drunks even demanded her contact info, and she complied every time. I could see she was adjusting to this “always obey” mindset, handling stares and touches with ease, even admitting she enjoyed it. At this point, I knew she was ready for the next big step—time to officially kick off our thrilling agreement.

[Cobra1000]

Great start. Keep going.

[Cobra1000]

Don’t gauge interest by number of responses. Go by the total number of views. With no way to upvote most viewers read and move on. Doesn’t mean we’re not interested. Unless a post implies interaction there’s little one can say most of the time.