The Day before THE DAY

The Day before Journal entry

Yesterday I stopped by at the local CVS pharmacy, walked to the back of the store near the pharmacists, looking around until I found what I sought, my sight attracted to the area by a KY sign. I was buying a dozen condoms. My wife had a tubal litigation years ago, so we don’t need protection against pregnancy—but we will need condoms. Because tomorrow night she will be fucking only the third man to every put a hard cock inside her. Using condoms that I was now selecting.

I was looking for the non-lubricated version. We had been at a festival where Trojan was giving away mint-flavored sample condoms and I had a double handful—but she wanted to try putting a condom on a cock with her mouth—and had practiced on me. And she discovered she hated the mint taste—and after we had finished and turned on the lights I discovered that the condom was green. So the next day here I was at CVS standing in front of the condom assortment—buying condoms for a near stranger to use to fuck my wife.

It is a strange feeling. And it is the culmination of years of fantasy, talk, videos, flirting, role playing, online chats, webcamming, and finally the determination to take the step. Last night she asked me, “Why are we doing this?”

“You want the list?” I asked, “because if you don’t want to do this we don’t have to.”

“We’re committed to do it now,” she said, pausing for a moment, then adding “Besides, I really want to.”

It came about quicker than I ever anticipated.




Journal Entry: Evening before:
So tomorrow night is the first time. We’ll meet in the hotel bar, have a drink, take a cab to dinner, and possibly some dancing (although I know that we may not get all the way through dinner). My wife has tried on a half dozen sexy outfits and chose a top that is nearly sheer that she will wear under a loose jacket. She’s gone as I write this for a pedicure and manicure.

She gets the gift of my permission and encouragement to play—and I get the gift of being there to watch—and he gets the gift of fucking an absolutely incredible woman.

“I’m looking forward to it happening,” was the most my wife would say, avoiding talking about it too much for my tendency she describes as “talking something to death.”
The day before we left she shaved her pussy smooth, got a pedicure and manicure, and modeled four different styles of panties to get the right ones.