By way of introduction, let me point out that we are both African-American and were living in Washington, DC at that time this took place. We are no longer together, but my ex-wife and I are "almost" average except for Tina's radiant smile and stunning figure, and yes I do have an "above average BBC". Everything started out in the same way that you probably have read here a thousand times just like I have. So, suffice it to say that my wife and I had "discussed the possibility for a long time before we..." you fill in the rest.
We had made friends with Pauline and Robert (also A-A's) and we used to go bowling with them regularly. Robert was a damned good bowler, but his wife Pauline was just along for the ride. My wife Tina and I had discussed her budding bisexual interests, and finally, she admitted to me that those feelings had intensified as of late. She was considering the possibility that Pauline might be a good candidate to start with.
“Why?” Tina told me that on one occasion as she and Pauline were standing alone together in the kitchen, Pauline had simply said to her, "Kiss me." Now that got Tina's thoughts churning.
One night we went over to Pauline and Robert's for a visit (ostensibly for a round of bowling, or so I thought), but to my surprise, Robert was not there. He had been called into work unexpectedly that evening, so bowling was out. I settled myself onto the sofa in the living room while Tina and Pauline disappeared somewhere into the innards of the house. I was nursing my second beer and had almost finished it when Tina came into the living room. She had a rather strange look on her face. Sort of like she was daydreaming as she walked. She asked me to come with her into the bedroom. Maybe it was the beer or maybe I am just dense, but I thought absolutely nothing of the invitation at the time. I mean, why she would ask me to come into her girlfriend's bedroom could mean anything, right?
As I entered the bedroom, I noticed that Pauline was sitting very quietly on the edge of the bed with both feet on the floor, a pallor on her face, staring at the wall directly in front of her, not moving, and not saying a word.
My wife said, "Just stand right there and watch."
“Duh… okay.”
She walked over to Pauline and knelt between her knees (they both were fully clothed). She kissed Pauline passionately on the lips, then extracted Pauline's right breast and began sucking on the nipple.
My wife turns to me and asks, "Would you like to have the other one?"
Again, “Duh,” that's when I got suspicious, right?
So being the devoted husband that I was and, of course wanting to please my wife and grant her every wish, I took Pauline's ample left breast into my hand. I kneaded it gently, and brought my mouth to the succulent nipple and feasted ravenously, actually it was more glorious than ravenous, but that would be splitting hairs.
Speaking of which, my wife then rose to her feet and announced, "I want to watch you fuck her". (Splitting hairs, get it?)
"Are you sure?", I asked, (I know, I know... duuhhhh!).
Finally, after I hadn't budged an inch, my wife came over to me, unbuckled my pants and pulled them down to my knees along with my underwear.
Now, this was embarrassing, folks. Those were the days of cotton briefs, and mine were full of holes... clean of course but this was where the Swiss people got the original idea for their cheese... holes in your underwear... it doesn't get any sexier than that. I mean, really! Tina had put too much bleach in the last load of laundry, so when I put them on that morning, my underwear was ripping and tearing all day long. I hadn't noticed until it was too late!
Anyway, I didn’t care at this point because my wife had my dick in her mouth and was sucking away, rather gloriously, I might add. Cotton briefs and the accompanying holes long forgotten, my wife led me by the dick over to where Pauline was sitting on the bed. She pushed Pauline gently onto her back on the bed and asked her to scoot backward a bit so that I would have a place to put my knees when I mounted her. Pauline did as asked and placed both feet flat on the edge of the mattress, knees apart staring at the ceiling and waiting.
That's when I realized that Pauline was not "fully" dressed.