My first time as a slut

I was driving home from work on a warm summer Friday evening and gave my husband a call on his cell phone.

“Hi Alan, what are we doing for dinner?” I asked.

“Hey Petra, I’m at Bobby’s house, he’s barbequing and has made some really good cold pasta. Come over.”

“Sure, I’ll get changed first and drive over. See you soon hun.”

I hung up the phone and thought about Bobby. He was my husband’s best friend, but since he re-married three years ago, we had not really hung round with him. His ex-wife was a witch to put it politely and we both breathed a sigh of relief when she walked out on him. She claimed he was having an affair, but I knew that was probably her trying to hide her own affair. Bobby had expressed interest in me years ago and had made a couple of passes, but I do not get involved with married men.

I parked the car in our garage, went up to the bedroom and had a quick shower, keeping my hair dry. After toweling myself off, I washed, dried my face and brushed my dark shoulder length hair before putting on a little make-up. I am only 4’ 11” tall, but have a nice slim body. At 35 years old, I mulled again that I wished I could have kids, but the tests had come back a couple of years ago that Alan had a low sperm count, and it was unlikely that he could father children.

After pulling on a pair of sheer pink panties, I selected a light blue summer dress to wear. I did not bother with a bra, as my perky B cup breasts do not need any support. As I left the house, I slipped on a matching blue pair of sandals and drove over to Bobby’s house.

The front door was unlocked, so I walked straight in. Bobby is a good-looking man, and has a nice single story house with a secluded backyard. He lives there with his 20-year-old son, John from his first marriage. I found Alan and Bobby in the kitchen drinking red wine.

“Hi Petra, how are you doing? You are just in time for the food. Wine?”

“Ah, it’s been a tiring week. Yes red wine please.” I pecked them both on the lips, got myself a plate of food and we went out on the patio to eat.

We chatted, ate the food and drank a couple of glasses of wine. Rather than risk drinking and driving, Bobby said that the guest bedroom was made-up, so we could stay over. His son was over at a neighbor’s house playing video games.

The sun went down, but the temperature remained warm. I glanced over a couple of times at Bobby’s hot tub; the blue water looked so inviting. My legs and back were aching a little from work.

“You want to go in the hot tub Petra?” Bobby asked.

“I’d love to, but I didn’t bring my swimsuit.”

“Go in with your knickers on. None of the neighbors will see.” Alan suggested, “I am.” With that, they slipped off their T-shirts and shorts, switched on the jets and climbed in. I kicked off my sandals and slipped off my dress. I kept one arm over my chest to hide my breasts and sighed as the water jets massaged my back.

We drank and relaxed for about 45 minutes until I announced that I was getting out, my skin was itching too much from the bubbles. I grabbed a towel from a stack by the tub and walked in to the family room. Alan and Bobby followed me.

As I dried my legs, I noticed Bobby staring at my body. I guessed he had not had sex for a while and the sight of my wet, half-naked body was a nice piece of eye candy. I saw that my panties had become transparent and you could clearly see the outline of my shaved pussy lips.

Alan also noticed his stare and commented. “Petra’s tits are fantastic aren’t they Bobby?” He reached from behind me and cupped my right one and I straightened up with a squeal, dropping the towel.

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