"We'll have eight over tonight and seven tomorrow," I told my wife. I had started a small general contracting business a year ago and was inviting all of my employees over for dinner to celebrate our successful first year. Our home wasn't big enough to accommodate all 15 of my employees, so we were going to entertain half of them on Friday night and the other half on Saturday. "I told the guys that they should wear business casual -- dockers and such. We should be a little on the dressy side of that since we're hosting."

"This is going to be fun," my wife smiled. "We haven't done any entertaining since your business started taking up all of your time. It'll be a nice change. I just can't picture Hank dressed in anything other than jeans and a tool belt."

Hank was the first employee that I had hired and was now my foreman. He is all business. I had never seen him relax and kick back. That was part of the reason that I had the idea of the dinners I thought that it might help build some camaraderie amongst my employees.

...

Everything was ready when the first couple of guys arrived at Seven O'clock. My wife had put together a nice table of appetizers and condiments. I wore slacks and a blazer without a tie. My wife wore a cute little black dress that she had owned since college. Her body had changed a little since then. She was 32 now and had lost the stick-thin figure that she had in college. She had added curves in all of the right places. Larger breasts and a rounder behind strained the little dress. What had once been a very tame little dress was now much sexier looking because her chest strained the top and the hem was higher since the fabric had to travel a little further around her firm rump. Her nipples were clearly visible through the tight material and the hem barely covered the lower edge of her bottom. I knew she loved the dress and although it looked a little too sexy, I didn't say anything because I knew it would ruin her cheerful mood. Besides, she really didn't have anything else appropriate to wear.

As usual, the muscular foreman, Hank, had arrive right on time and was very professional looking. He wore tan slacks and a loose fitting oxford shirt. My wife greeted him at the door and was clearly taken with his handsome clean-cut appearance. "Hey there!" she said with a twinkle in her eye. "I almost didn't recognize you without the hard-hat and boots."

Hank smiled, obviously enjoying her appraising look and said, "Thanks, Joyce. You look great too."

Tim and Collin arrived a few minutes later and the last five guys were all there within 15 minutes. We gathered around the table and chatted while Joyce got everyone something to drink. I couldn't help but notice the quick glances exchanged between Hank and my wife. The were both obviously taken with eachother's change in appearance. There was no flirting going on, just quick awkward glances. To tell you the truth, it didn't stand out at first, because everyone had noticed how different my wife looked in a short, tight dress, rather than jeans or sweat pants.

I sat at the head of the table and Joyce's chair was at the foot of the table nearest the kitchen. Hank sat on one side of her and Tim on the other. She finally joined us at the table and drank a glass of wine. We were talking in little groups of two or three, so I couldn't hear what she was saying, but she was turned towards Tim, trying awkwardly not to show too much attention towards Hank. She was failing. I thought to myself, that if an outsider were watching us at this table, they would almost certainly assume (from body language alone) that Hank and my wife were a couple. Strangely, this didn't make me jealous.

After a few minutes of small talk, my wife announced that the first course would be served. When she was sitting, her tight dress had ridden up a little. Consequently, as she turned to go to the kitchen, every eye in the room was on her ass. The lower edge of her cheeks and white panties were peeking out from under the hem. There was a low buzz around the room as the kitchen door closed behind her. I heard Tim chuckling at the other end of the table. This didn't seem like a big deal to me. She looked great and clearly nobody was making fun of her. So I let it go.

As Joyce delivered salads around the table the guys seemed to get more overt about staring at her. At first she seemed self-conscious, but after a few minutes she was clearly flattered by it and was almost strutting. Her dress was still riding a little high and she either didn't care or didn't notice. Joyce had to return to the kitchen for each platter so the guys got an eyeful as she delivered the plates around the room. The talk had died away and everyone was simply drooling over my wife. As she went to get the last salad, she walked past Tim who - as everyone watched - reached out and tugged up on her dress fabric, lifting the hem to her waist line. She froze. The room was utterly silent. Her white panties were entirely exposed.

They were low-rise cotton briefs that were so tight that they formed distinct diagonal lines across her firm round cheeks. After a few seconds she looked over her shoulder at Tim with a firm look and for a moment I thought that she would yell at him. Instead she turned back to the kitchen and, making no attempt to straighten her dress, walked out of the room. As the door closed behind her, there were hoots and hand claps around the room. I was just as surprised as the rest of the guys. I was so surprised that I forgot to be angry. When she returned with the last salad, her dress was straightened again. She sat down and began eating her salad. Everyone started eating and the small talk resumed, but now everyone was casting glances towards my wife. She ate in silence for a while, then she struck up a conversation with Hank.

After the salads were all eaten she gathered up all of the dishes. Rather than stacking them up and taking them in one trip she took them into the kitchen one at a time. It was clear to me that although she probably was denying it to herself, she was loving the attention. After the third plate was taken, the guy to my right, Tony, reached out as she walked by and tugged up her dress a couple of inches.

She paused for a moment. Then, without even looking back, continued on to the kitchen. When she returned, her dress was still up a little. You couldn't see her crotch from the front yet, but her ass cheeks and panties were clearly displayed from the rear. On each trip, someone else would tug her dress a little higher. When she returned from the kitchen on the next trip, the front of her panties were peeking out from under the front edge of her dress. On the next trip you could see the little bow at the top edge of her panty front.

The guys were chuckling and whispering things to each other. Every time someone tugged, she would pause for a few seconds and then continue on with clearing the plates. By the time the last salad plate was gone, her dress was so high, you could see her belly button from the front. and a couple of inches of skin above the top of her panties from the back. Her ass was gorgeous. It looked like a ripe peach in tight fitting panties. Whenever she was out of the room, the whispering was a little louder and I could make out some of the words that the guys were saying to each other. "... squeeze that ass... I'd fuck the shit out of it... she's begging for it... dripping wet... finger that thing."

She returned with her dress straightened and delivered the first entree plate to Hank, who was the only person not to tug at her dress... other than me. As she turned to go to the kitchen Hank reached out and with both hands pulled her dress up well above her waist again. She froze. He reached out and cupped both of her ass cheeks through her panties and waited until she looked over her shoulder at him. Chuckles and snickers went around the room as we all realized that she was smiling at him. He ran his hands down the back of her legs as he pulled them away and sat back, staring at her ass. She went back to the kitchen for another plate. Her dress was still up when she returned, guys around the table took turns rubbing her ass as she passed by.

She would pause for a moment, then carry on with her task. When she got around the table to Tim, he took his time and I saw him slip a finger between her legs. Oddly, she looked over at Hank and spread her legs a little, giving Tim better access. Everyone watched hypnotically as Tim rubbed his finger over the crotch of my wife's panties while she stared into Hank's eyes. This went on for about 45 seconds straight.

Finally, I said, "OK, that's enough. Leave her alone. That's going too far." This was not what I had intended when I invited them over for dinner.

She straightened her dress and turned to the rest of the table and said to me, "It's OK, Ben. They're just a bunch of construction workers, what can you expect. It's not like they're tearing my clothes off." Her voice took on a sterner tone. "I WILL stop them if they get too out of control." She told me later that she had thought that such a warning would get them to leave it at that... simply patting her ass as she walked by, etc... Unfortunately it had the opposite effect. To the guys this meant that they could try to get away with whatever they wanted to, knowing that if they went too far, she would stop them... no harm done.

Having served everyone else, Joyce returned to the kitchen for her plate. She came back to her seat with everything in order and everything went back to normal. "Thank God," I thought. The conversations turned to normal small talk and everyone seemed to focus on the great food on the table. My illusion was shattered when I went to the bathroom a little later. As I walked past Joyce's chair, I could see that her dress was bunched up around her waist and Tim and Hank were reaching under the table... almost certainly rubbing my wife's legs and crotch area. When I was in the bathroom I decided that she was a grown woman and could take care of herself. If I didn't like it, I could leave her. In any event, nobody was forcing her to do anything. I'd let her control the rest of the evening and see what happened. If I was still upset Timorrow, I could talk with her about it and deal with it then.

When I returned from the bathroom there was a buzz of voices in the room and I saw my wife standing next to her chair with one foot up on the chair's seat. Tim was rubbing that leg's knee and Hank was on her other side holding her panties to one side with one hand and finger-fucking her with his other hand. Her legs were spread wide open so that everyone at the table could watch. The other guys were leaning in to get a better look. I sat back down at the head of the table. Everyone ignored me. She was squeezing one of the knobs at the top of the chair's back, holding onto it for balance. She looked down at her pussy and watched, with everyone else for a while. Then she closed her eyes and put her other hand on Hank's shoulder. It was clear to everyone that she was about to orgasm. I heard the familiar chirping gasp she always utters when she is cumming.

I thought for certain that this was the end of it. She straightened her dress again and sat back down. She was smiling and couldn't seem to keep her eyes off of Hank. Everyone went back to eating. When she finished eating. She went back to the kitchen for more wine and went around the table to fill everyone's glass. As she rounded the table, guy's hands were up her dress. She took her time filling the glasses. At one point it looked like Tim had thrown his napkin on the floor. My wife bent over to pick it up and everyone watched. It dawned on everyone that that wasn't a napkin... it was her panties. She made sure that everyone could see her ass and pussy as she bent over to pick up her panties. Snickers were heard around the table.

About an hour later we were all stuffed and a little drunk. Everyone at the table had fingered my wife that evening, except for me. So when she was clearing the plates, I decided to join in the fun, rather than simply sulking. I reached up her dress and felt her crotch as she gathered up my plate and silverware. Her pussy was drenched and their was a something in it. She leaned on the table and waited patiently as I lifted her dress to have a look. There were chuckles around the table as I looked to see that someone had left a carrot sticking out of my wife's cunt. Her ass crack and inner thighs glistened with her juices. I pulled the carrot out and put it on my plate for her to take away. A long drip of her gooey crotch juice dangled from it as I plopped it on the plate. More snickers went around the room.

I suggested that we all go into the living room for one last drink before the evening ended. It was Ten O'clock by then and I wanted the guys to leave soon. We talked in the living room while Joyce finished clearing the table. The conversation turned to work and other mundane things. Joyce was delivering a fresh round of drinks when I went to the bathroom. As I closed the door to the bathroom I heard clapping and laughter coming from the living room. When I returned, I found my wife's dress discarded on the floor. She was kneeling on the floor in front of the couch between Hank's legs. She was sucking his dick and the guys on either side of her were pulling their pants down. Her sole focus was Hank's dick.

She stroked his scrotum with one hand, pumped his shaft with the other and sucked on the dickhead. Tim ignored me as I approached. He was kneeling on the floor behind my wife. Rubbing her ass and reaching around to fondle her tits. I watched as Hank obviously came in my wife's mouth. She milked his shaft with her hand like a pro. The rest of that evening I watched my subordinates taking turns with my wife. I finally went to bed at midnight, but the party continued on well past that. Everyone fucked her. Most of them got blowjobs. I was ignored, but could have gotten in line with the rest of them. She probably wouldn't have even noticed.

The following evening was a lurid repeat of that Friday, except that my wife invited Hank to return with the second group of guys... "since he was the foreman and all". Besides, there was going to be an extra chair anyway.

Since that weekend, my marriage settled down. We live like any other married couple, except that she'll show up at lunch time at a construction site and let the guys pass her around like a rag doll. She'll also go on vacation with Hank for a week about once a year. Every once in a while she'll stay over at his house. Once I heard the guys talking about a wild bachelor's party that Hank had thrown. Nobody said so, but I could tell that my wife had been there and was the main attraction. There was apparently a donkey at the party. My only demand was that she get her tube's tied. I don't want to have to raise someone else's kid and send them to college.