We don’t live there anymore, but my wife and I always fly home to New Orleans for réveillon dinner at Christmas and again during high carnival time for various balls and parades.

No one who has grown up here would ever dream of missing such time-honored traditions. However, even as we don our white gloves and formal attire, my wife and I are hardly “traditional” ourselves.

We’re both in our early forties, childless, and have been married over fifteen years — and we happen to enjoy regular “guest stars” in our private life. As it happens, I’m not so much into swinging with other couples or “wife swapping,” but my wife enjoys having occasional sexual affairs with other women. Who am I to deny her some fun if I’m away on business — or whenever? However, most of the time I am treated to either watching or participating myself — so yeah, I have a really, really hard life!

Madison has been proudly and openly bisexual since college, which was a bold move back in the day on a conservative Southern campus. She and I met in law school. She was a senior editor of the law review, and I was the new junior member who was dating one of her ex-girlfriends, who is actually still friends with both of us.

While Madison might look like a perfectly coiffed former cheerleader and beauty queen on the outside, I know firsthand what a nympho she is on the inside, and I couldn’t be happier to let her be herself. We’re kindred spirits and also compatible freaks, and this past carnival season, I experienced a poignant reminder of how lucky I am.

We were in our hotel room getting ready for a large masked charity ball when my gorgeous wife came up behind me: “I love you in a tux, baby.”

“And I love you in nothing at all.” I smirked and finished fixing my bow tie.

“You’ll get that soon enough. But not now, I can’t mess up this hair.”

I pretended to look hurt. “Oh come on, don’t be cruel.”

“I’d never be cruel, baby.” Madison leaned in and kissed my neck. “In fact, I’m fixing to pick someone out for us tonight. Are you down for that, darling?” Her hands roamed down my chest and dangled dangerously below my belt.

“You better put those hands elsewhere unless you want me to ruin that hair.”

She giggled and squeezed my shoulders. “I just want you thinking happy thoughts is all.”

“Always.” I smiled back at her in the mirror. “Are you going to get us into trouble?”

Madison kissed my cheek. “Just you wait and see. You always like who I pick, though.”

“That’s very true, dear.” I patted her ass as we headed out for the night. The thought of a probable threesome tonight with my wife and another hot woman already had me pitching a tent, but for the time being, I tried to quell my desire with thoughts of taxes and baseball.

Madison donned her lace Venetian mask that paired perfectly with her backless velvet gown. “Ready?”

“Of course I am, gorgeous.” I planted a kiss on her cheek and put on my own mask. “Let’s head down.”

The outside of the hotel ballroom teamed with well-dressed crowds. Since it was for charity and not just a krewe ball, there were some non-locals and “outsiders” in the mix, which was kind of a relief. It gets a little stifling and small here sometimes in certain circles.

Still, no matter how many times we’ve done this, I never get tired of walking into a room and having Madison on my arm, especially knowing full well that the other men in attendance, as well as other women, are mentally undressing her. She’s a green-eyed natural redhead with sensual curls. For tonight, she’d swept them back into a loose bun so that everyone could see her exposed back and slender shoulders.

My wife and I spent the first half of the night mingling with other couples and hitting the buffet. Even with delicious food and king cake all around — which could make for an erotic letter all on its own — I was starting to feel discouraged. We kept running into people we actually knew, and Madison and I never like to complicate “play time” by having significant “real life” overlaps.

“Honey?” Madison tapped my shoulder, breaking my reverie. “I’m going to run to the ladies’ room. Be right back.” It sounded like a routine thing to say, except she followed it up with a wink.

I tilted my head. “Who do you have your eye on?” I whispered.

“If my hunch is correct, you’ll see soon enough.” Madison kissed me on the cheek.

I downed the last of my bourbon on the rocks, watching the velvet dress drape and sway around her derriere as she moved through the crowd. 

At that point, I had a flashback to our first Mardi Gras ball together, years and years ago. That night had ended with a threesome — my first one, in fact. Madison picked out this plump and delectable butter blonde named Kelly, and we spent the whole night sharing her. I felt myself getting flushed as I remembered Kelly begging me to fuck her doggy-style while she ate out my wife.

I stepped out to the courtyard and took in the scent of all the native midnight jasmine and the damp musk that characterizes the perpetual humidity here.

Not even five minutes passed before my phone buzzed. A text from Madison read: “Come up to the terrace.”

I won’t say that I “ran,” but I moved with what we’ll call “great urgency” through the throngs of revelers, gripping my phone like it could somehow control the rising tide of arousal. If anyone was trying to say hi to me, at least the loud jazz band could make for a perfectly plausible and polite, “I didn’t hear you” excuse.

Above the mezzanine, there was a covered terrace that spanned the entire third floor. I passed a few couples making out as I made my way to the end, where my wife had found a discreet area between two potted palms.

I stopped short of fully approaching, though — I wanted to watch her — and from years of experience, she knew it. In the corner of the terrace, I could see Madison kissing this really hot dark-haired woman who wore a strapless purple dress and a feathered mask.

What I didn’t expect was to see another set of perfectly manicured hands reach around to cup my wife’s breasts. I moved a little bit closer and my jaw about hit the ground as it became clear that Madison was sandwiched between two gorgeous women who were clearly having their way with her.

Madison closed her eyes and moaned softly as the champagne-blonde behind her (wearing a teal sequined number with a peacock mask) licked her neck, and the dark-haired babe in front kissed her way down my wife’s cleavage. The fact that they all kept their carnival masks on made this feel even more illicit and decadent, à la Eyes Wide Shut.

I stepped a little closer and stood in the light, my gaze fixed on the dark-haired woman who was getting on her knees now and lifting my wife’s dress to expose her sheer mesh panties. Without peeling them off, the brunette woman teased my wife’s clit. And then she licked her own fingers and slipped them right inside Madison’s panties.

As Madison moaned sharply, the blonde behind her pulled her into a kiss. I felt sweat starting to pool in my underarms and moistening my chest, and it had nothing to do with the 80% humidity.

The brunette pulled her fingers out of Madison’s panties and licked them. And that’s when I made myself known: “Ladies, what kind of party is this?”

Madison broke into a grin and helped the dark-haired woman up. “Honey, you remember me telling you about that girl in my sorority up in Baton Rouge? That one who was my first?”

How could I forget? “Oh, yes, I do.”

“Well,” my wife smiled, “Look who I ran into! This is Camille.”

“The famous Camille?” I grinned and extended my hand.

Camille smiled. “I’ve heard a good bit about you, too, Harry.”

I chuckled.

The blonde in the peacock mask nuzzled my wife’s neck and Madison squeezed her hand.  “And this beauty is Ana. She’s a friend of Camille’s from Atlanta.”

“A special kind of friend,” Camille added.

Ana giggled and offered me her gloved hand. I didn’t let on at the time, but I recognized Ana as a certain professional football player’s on/off girlfriend.

“Enchanté, madam.” I smiled. “So, ladies, what are the plans for this evening, hmm?” I looked at my wife, but Camille spoke again:

“Well, we were going to fuck your wife,” Camille giggled.

I smirked and shook my head. “See now, my wife had me thinking that she was going to fuck you.”

Madison laughed. “A slight technicality that we’ll remedy shortly, dear — everyone’s going to get fucked.”

“Will you be joining us?” Camille asked. “I know Ana could definitely use some dick — with your wife’s permission, of course.”

Madison and Ana collapsed with laughter.

Madison tried to compose herself.  “Do you think you can handle all three of us tonight?”

“Anything for you, baby.” I kissed my wife on the lips, grateful that I hadn’t gone for that third bourbon. “And y’all have no idea how fucking hot you are.” I unbuttoned my collar for emphasis.

Camille laughed. “I like him, Madison. Let’s get out of here.”

Madison, Camille, and Ana managed to behave themselves on the ride back to the hotel, but I think even the taxi driver was picking up on the fact that those three were horny as could be. I got out of the car last, and he gave me the most incredulous look.

I stepped into the hotel lobby with my wife on one arm and her two friends on the other. The wonderful thing about this city is that no one really bats an eye, especially this time of year.

By the time the elevator doors shut, I was in the midst of three girls kissing and groping each other — and me, too.

Madison reached down and felt my dick; of course, I was already rock-hard. “How do you want to do this, baby?” She kissed me.

“Well, I think you should be in charge.” I playfully pinched her bottom. “You say who gets to ride when.”

My wife grinned and nodded.

“Oooh,” Ana grinned, “I like that idea.”

I smirked. “Have you slept with my wife before?”

“No, I haven’t. Why?” Ana asked.

I laughed. “It’s going to be a long night, that’s all.”

“Oh, good!” Camille caressed Madison’s back. “That means she hasn’t changed since college.”

I opened the door to our suite as Madison laughed and pulled Camille into another kiss.

I stripped down to my boxer briefs and opened a bottle of champagne while the girls were in various states of undressing each other on the bed. Soon the floor became a pile of dresses, panties, high heels, and discarded carnival masks — talk about a worthy postcard image!

Camille had an amazing set of enhanced DD’s with nice dark nipples that Madison sucked on and admired. “Wow, I don’t remember these.”

Camille grinned. “Present from my ex-husband.”

My wife herself is a full, natural C-cup, and that peaches-and-cream redhead complexion means her nipples and pussy are the same sweet shade of rose pink.

And then the lovely blonde Ana had sexy tan lines all around her tits and pussy.

I sat down on the ottoman at the bottom of the bed, determined to bide my time. “Why don’t the three of you all kiss?”

My beautiful Madison beamed at me and got in the middle of Camille and Ana, pulling them close.

Camille moaned softly. “I want to finish tasting that pussy of hers.”

I felt my cock twitch with excitement. “Just do whatever feels natural.”

Ana guided Madison down on the bed and kissed her, while Camille got between her legs: “Mmm, that’s what I’m talking about.”

Camille got right to work, licking and fingering Madison’s pussy; Ana’s tongue joined hers shortly thereafter.

Between the two of them, they occupied every inch of my wife’s perfectly smooth snatch.

Madison moaned loudly and pinched her nipples. I loved watching the contortions of pleasure on her face.

At some point, my wife insisted Ana get on top of her so the two of them did a little 69. Ana licked and sucked Madison’s clit while Camille finger-fucked both her pussy and asshole.

Soon enough, my wife was squealing in orgasm; Camille’s finger-drilling was hitting her G-spot, so when Madison came, she squirted.

Ana moved to give Madison some air; she lay there panting, with a giddy grin on her red face. “Oh fuck, Camille.”

“Haven’t lost my touch, have I?”

Madison giggled and shook her head. She looked up at Ana. “Don’t worry, I didn’t forget you.”

“That’s OK,” Ana grinned. “The night is young.”

“That it is,” I nodded.

Madison smiled at me. “Honey?”

“Yes?” I said.

“Can you get that stiff cock over here?”

She didn’t have to ask twice! I consider myself very spoiled to have already enjoyed many double blowjobs in the context of the occasional threesome, but this was my first triple blowjob. Once the three of them got going, I felt tongues and lips from the tip of my dick all the way to my taint. They each took turns taking my length in their mouths, going as deep as possible, while the others licked and sucked my balls.

I’m not going to lie. I wanted to cum like 90 seconds in!

“Madison,” I groaned. “You ladies are going to kill me.”

“Don’t worry, baby.” My wondrous nympho of a wife looked up at me with the sweetest smile: “You give us that nice hot load, and then you can recover and watch me fuck Ana with my toy until you’re ready to go again.”

A choir of angels couldn’t have been more beautiful than those words! I tried to last as long as possible, but trust me: Even a pet rock would be cumming if these three babes had their way with it. As I shot my load, Madison rolled my dick between her tits and licked up the pearly strands of cum that had fallen into her cleavage. Camille and Ana followed her lead, and even though I was spent, I felt the arousal coming right back again as I watched them all share my come.

True to her word, Madison got her strap-on toy out of her luggage. Ana wanted to be taken from behind, so she got on all fours in the middle of the bed. And while Madison fucked Ana’s pussy, Ana licked and fingered Camille.

It’s hard to say who came first: Ana or Camille. But in the aftermath, my wife insisted that I fuck Camille.

“Howabout I ride him?” Camille asked Madison. “Then I’d love it if you fuck me in the ass for old time’s sake.”

My wife beamed. “Of course.” She looked at Ana. “Want his tongue on you?”

Round two commenced for me: Ana sat on my face, Camille mounted my dick, and my wife fucked Camille’s ass.

This was above and beyond the hot threesome that I was expecting, and I wasn’t about to complain! What’s a guy to do with a triple-pussy pile-up on his hands other than try his damnedest to keep up?

Luckily, Camille came rather quickly from the DP, and then it was Ana’s turn.

I put Ana on her back and her legs over my shoulders, and Madison sat on Ana’s face. And while Ana licked her clit, Camille crept around back to eat Madison’s ass. In any case, the view of my gorgeous wife getting pleasured while I was balls-deep quickly sent me over the edge. After Ana came, I pulled out, feeling another load coming.

My wife leaned forward and proceeded to milk me dry and swallow my load, hogging it all to herself.

After a break (and a protein bar), I rejoined the girls. By then, Madison, Ana, and Camille were in the midst of a vibrator-fueled daisy chain; I lost track of how many orgasms they gave each other.

But eventually, my wife wanted — and needed — to be fucked. And she wanted Madison to return the favor and fuck her ass, too.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment,” Camille smirked at me conspiratorially.

I grinned and felt myself getting hard again. “Let’s do this.”

Camille and I managed to sync our thrusts so as to drive my wife absolutely wild. When I pulled out, Camille thrusted in. We rocked back and forth like a seesaw.

Madison whimpered and moaned, feeling both her holes stretched and the unrelenting waves of pleasure. “Oh, yes! Oh, fuck — yes, fuck me, both of you!”

As for Ana, she sucked my balls and stroked Madison’s clit and otherwise kept morale high: “Are you gonna come for us?” She teased Madison and pinched her nipples.

Soon enough, Madison’s body convulsed and shook. The blood rushed to her face, and she was sweating so much, her make-up was slowly coming off. Her mouth hung open and this primal yelp came out. She came so hard that she collapsed on top of me and passed out for a brief moment. I held my wife and gave Camille a thumbs-up.

But once Madison got her bearings again, our wild foursome kept going almost until the dawn broke.

At that point, Ana had to go catch a flight, so she showered and bowed out. But Camille lingered for a bit, and the three of us had some more fun — albeit lazy fun — and ordered room service. 

When Camille left, my wife soaked in the tub. “That was something, baby.” Madison blew me a kiss.

“You’re telling me!”

Madison giggled. “You know we’ll back in a few weeks for Mardi Gras weekend, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I’ve already invited Camille, so — ” Her voice trailed off as she gave me a mischievous grin.

By the time Fat Tuesday proper rolled around, I was so exhausted from all of our carnal carnival fun that I teased Madison about how I would be giving up threesomes for Lent.

Her response? “If I can get Camille to bring another friend again, then it won’t be a threesome — so it won’t count.”