Each year I have a weekend conference with work, wives are invited. It can be anywhere in the world, rotated by continent by our American owners. For the first few years Linda didn’t accompany me as our daughter would have been a pain to bring and too young to be left with grandparents. These trips have been boring as hell from a work perspective but as we sit in on the sessions our partners have trips organised, entertainment laid on for Friday evening and a big dinner with celebrities giving a talk afterwards before dancing until the wee hours, home on Sunday. Some of the longer flights we’ve turned into a mini break taking annual leave for a week such as when we were in South Beach Florida. Linda and I had been enjoying an open marriage for some time. The only deal was that she didn’t embarrass me locally with friends or indeed with colleagues. And if I wasn’t able to watch / participate then she must tell all later in bed. The first conference we went on together was to Marlow. Nice big hotel, excellent facilities, pool, gym, beauty salon etc. Friday night was relaxed, supper and a few drinks and introducing wives to colleagues and each other. Saturday 9.00 am the sessions began. Wives were being taken to Windsor for some shopping and a look around the Castle. Linda decided not to go preferring to stay at the hotel, gym and swimming in the morning, hair and beauticians for a make over before lunch. We all lunched together and Linda had brushed up nicely receiving many compliments from the Americans present. In particular she had caught the eye of the Sales VP, knew it and was flirting outrageously. I took her to one side and said “No”. “Can’t help it I’m horny as hell”. I could tell not only from her demeanour but from the little black and white check skirt she was wearing, woolly tights and cashmere black roll neck jumper. Clearly she’d forgotten her bra. We were called back into sessions, the Sales VP sitting next to me. I was finding it difficult to concentrate through the boring presentation but it seemed Linda’s appearance had made me a new best friend. Could be good for my career. But NO. My phone buzzed in my pocket. Sneaky look. Message from Linda. “Need you in room now”. I ignored. Ten minutes later, selfie arrived, skirt removed, little black panties and they weren’t tights but long woollen socks. Again I ignored. Message after message which I didn’t even look at until I decided to send her a message back. “Break for tea 3.00 pm. See you in reception”. Half an hour away. I took two cups of tea out. Looked around, no Linda in reception. Then saw her coming in the front door, followed by a trendy looking mid 40’s guy, not much older than us. “Just having a cig and Pedro here turned up in his Ferrari. Let me sit in it, beautiful car.” I bet he did, no doubt the Italian gent holding the door open for you to get in” I thought. “Pedro, I’m Andrew, Linda’s husband.” Pleasantries exchanged. He was actually Belgian of Italian descent and over on business the coming week so had chosen to stay outside London and do a bit of exploring over the weekend. Off he went, a little over weight but clearly a confident chap. Linda started again, pleading for me to come to the room. She was bored and wanted me to sack the late afternoon session. Made more difficult by my new best friend taking up residence next to me. “We finish at 5.30, drinks before dinner at 7.30. I’ll come to room as soon as I can”. Back in the conference room not ten minutes had passed when my phone buzzed. “You have ten minutes to come to the room. You’ll find me in the Penthouse Suite after that. L xx” Yeah, right. No idea what she was on about. Half an hour later a selfie arrived. Kissing Pedro. Caption read “Come and join us”. I excused myself on the basis of not feeling well and once out of sight ran like the very devil to the lift. Phone buzzed again. Photo of Linda without shoes on, Pedro shirtless on the sofa. Caption, “Playing strip pontoon”. By the time the door opened Pedro was bare foot, Linda was minus skirt. I was welcomed in “Champagne?”. Half a glass emptied the bottle and Pedro called to room service for two more. So we laughed, chatted and played on. Pedro donned a robe to receive the champers, now down to his weird pants. Shiny pink and very small. Linda was topless and I was down to my skivvies. Forfeit time was looming. Pedro’s draws were mercifully discarded, Linda removing them slowly and with flirtatious poise. Next Linda lost her panties. Should have been me to remove them but following a glance and raised eyebrow from Linda I was a gent and suggested Pedro have the honour. His face hovered around Linda’s crotch, I could almost taste her sweet wet pussy from where I was sitting across the table from them. Panties slid off, still those long black woollen stockings in place. Her tan lines still visible from her sun worship of last October in Tenerife. As Pedro stood his stocky little dick was pointing to the ceiling. Pedro lost. Linda decided he should go down on her. Game over now. She was holding his head tight to her pussy, moaning with pleasure as his tongue explored her delicate regions, hands reaching up and easily swallowing her small boobs, kneading her erect nipples. After ten minutes of delight Linda orgasmed loudly, her face and neck flushed from the sexual high. It wouldn’t be long before she wanted more. More champers, “Andrew get those pants off” and we were good to go again. No one had condoms so Linda wouldn’t let Pedro fuck her, but was happy to blow him, so I was gifted the job of saddling up. Linda lay on her back on the sofa, me on top getting in to the slow grind that we know works so well in bringing slow massive orgasms to both of us. Pedro was at her head, she had his cock in her mouth, slurping and dribbling spit and she bobbed her head back and forth. Heaven. Linda was moaning with her mouth full, Pedro playing with her boobs, eyes closed and he started. Linda kept her slow pace. Hand holding his meat, mouth encompassing its length, in and out, tongue circling his bell end to ensure his balls were properly emptied. Linda gagged a little as his first shot hit the back of her throat. Pedro was crying out, holding Linda’s head as he pushed into her mouth, pulsating spunk, some dribbling out of Linda’s mouth and dribbling down her cheek as she opened her mouth for air. That sight set me off which in turn brought Linda loudly to her second high of the afternoon, legs gripped me in a vice, arms hugging me tightly as we came together. Then she kissed me. Part of me wished she hadn’t but it was nice anyway. A subdued evening followed, both of us knackered. But it gave us plenty to talk about on the drive home on Sunday. We both agreed. Strip games are fun, an ice breaker and almost a form of foreplay.