Before we got married, we often spent weekend nights hopping between bars downtown, soaking up the last bits of our youthful energy. My wife liked to say, “When I was young…,” which always made me laugh. We were not that old—only in our late twenties, nearing thirty.
One night, we made a bet to see how long it would take for young guys to approach the girls. My wife was with two female friends, while we guys watched from a short distance away. At first, the three women stood together with their drinks, chatting as if it were a girls’ night out. Soon, men began to gather nearby and started casual conversations.
The ladies later messaged us that they were moving to another bar nearby, where some guys had invited them to a private booth. We had no objections and followed along. Inside the booth, there were already several young men and women. A handsome guy in a white shirt stood especially close to my wife. When he spoke to her, his face was near her cheek, and his hand rested on her waist. I remember she wore a thin black short dress that night. With his large hand, he must have secretly touched her hips.
Later, he took my wife to the dance floor. They danced closely, holding each other like a couple. As the mood grew intense, they kissed—open-mouthed, tongues touching. The crowd was thick, so details were hard to see. My wife later told me his hand had slipped under her dress, touching her private area over her underwear.
He even asked if she wanted to go home with him. Only then did she say her boyfriend was waiting. I heard he seemed a little disappointed—maybe he genuinely felt something for her.
This night was probably the start of our hotwife journey. It also showed me that my wife truly knows how to handle men’s attention.
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