Posts Tagged ‘wife’
This is a wife sharing, cuckold story. If you don’t like these kinds of stories then why in the hell are you reading it. If you want romantic stories then you need to be reading the stories in Romantic Encounters.
Tuesday morning, the second Tuesday under “Heather Rules,” I wake up smelling fresh bacon and eggs and hearing voices one of which is Heather’s.
By the time my eyes are able to focus, Heather is standing in the doorway naked, of course, with our ever faithful personal bellboy, Jason. I hear him tell her; “It’s a date; I’ll pick you up Thursday morning,” and then she kissed him on the lips. Flustered, Jason disappeared down the hall; Heather standing in the hall waving goodbye until Jason is on the elevator.
Heather turned and seeing me awake said, “I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to wake you but it’s just as well breakfast is getting cold.” I must have looked confused because Heather smirked and added, “I woke up early and ordered breakfast, I didn’t think you’d mind.”
Then the look on her face became very serious and she answered my unasked question with broken sentences, “Yes, I’m OK, it’s just that yesterday…I…but I think we both know….” Then a smile came over her face and her demeanor changed, “I’m a whore now and that’s just the way it’s going to be, at least while we’re in California.”
She next started to say something and then stopped. I think she was going to ask me if I was OK but then realized that my agreement to Heather’s Rules meant I did not get an opinion.
I just grunted and crawled out of bed and went to the bathroom.
The funny thing is I was alright with everything. Mentally, I knew I should have been pissed off and demanding that Heather stop this shit immediately but in all honesty I was not. I liked Heather this way; I liked being married to a whore. It made her more desirable to me somehow knowing I was getting for free what others were paying for and no matter what Heather would always be mine. Well, mine and Sy’s.
Heather, still naked, was sitting on the balcony munching on her breakfast when I joined her. “So, you probably gave poor Jason a heart attack when you greeted him at the door.” I said breaking the morning silence.
Heather just smiled, “Oh he was a little startled at first but he got over it quickly enough. It was so cute how he blushed and tried to pretend not to look while checking me out. He even asked me out on a date.” Heather said with a sly, smug, devilish look on her face.
“He did, did he?” I asked in mock indignation.
“Yep, he and some of his friends are going water skiing Thursday to celebrate one of the boy’s eighteenth birthday and Jason asked me to come along.” Heather answered. “I think it will be fun.”
“How many of his ‘friends’ are there going to be?” I queried.
“I don’t know, I didn’t ask,” she answered. “Like you heard, Jason said he’d pick me up early Thursday morning since it’s a long trip to the lake and he’ll have me back later Thursday.”
I just raised my eyebrows and we changed the subject, deciding to have dinner and do some dancing tonight. After we finished breakfast, I barely had time to shower and get dressed for today’s class. What I really wanted is to have Heather’s pussy wrapped around the hardon I always seem to be sporting lately.
Heather saw me off by standing in the hallway, naked of course, until the elevator came.
In class, Don was a much happier man, smiling and giving me a high five when we met at the break. “Damn that whore was good. I fucked her three times; I never fuck anyone more than once before I fall asleep. The last time she let me cum in her pussy, god it felt so good, having her pussy wrapped around my bare cock the way god intended it to be. Cost me a helluva lot but it was worth every penny. Best piece of ass I ever had,” he exclaimed.
I felt a little embarrassed having another man talk about fucking my wife and her being a “whore” but that was nothing compared to how honored I felt to be married to a woman who could be so highly praised for her skills in the sack.
By the end of the day, I was starving and ready to get back to my wife and have a fun evening with just her and me. But then I had a thought and I almost let it pass but instead I pulled out my cell phone. Pulling out the card I had put in my wallet; I dialed the number and the voice on the other end answered and said, “Hello, this is David.”
“Hi, David, this is Larry, Heather’s husband. Listen, Heather is free tonight and I thought you might like to drift by and join us latter. Maybe for coffee and dessert and some dancing and maybe some fun after that,” I told him.
David, of course, was all for it. We arranged for it to look like a coincidence that David would run into us at the restaurant where I would invite him to join us and the rest will play out from there.
I knew it was insane but sanity left me a long time ago. I knew I was arranging for David to fuck my wife and that I should have been ashamed of myself but I was not.
I love Heather and I love letting other men fuck my wife. If you have a problem with that then FUCK OFF asshole!
Heather wanted to surprise me so I went to the restaurant and waited. I had just sat down when in walked the most beautiful redhead in the world even though everything about her screamed slut!
Heather’s hair was showy but tasteful. Her alabaster skin was perfectly polished giving her a radiant glow. Her makeup was heavier than normal but it was perfect from her ruby red lips, to her blush to her mascara.
The dress she was wearing was unbelievable. It was a tight fitting gold lame that just covered her breasts in the front, the shoulder straps crisscrossed in the back leaving her back bare almost to her butt. The hem ran to maybe two inches below her crotch showing off her sexy legs and a lot more than that if she was not careful. It was so form fitting that it was obvious she was not wearing anything underneath, as evidenced by her nipples standing out high and proud against the stretchy fabric.
Her breasts had that special jiggle I love watching when she moved.
Her matching Gold 5″ spike heel shoes finished of the outfit. And of course, the silver colored chain around her ankle denoting Heather’s indentured status.
Heather came to me and we kissed passionately, every eye in the room watching us.
Our waiter came to us, or should I say Heather, instantly. Heather started with some white wine; I, of course, stayed with my normal iced tea.
Heather was absolutely radiant and she knew it. She provided the waiter with an ample view of her almost bare tits and she even pretended to drop her napkin just so she could give him a close up look at her long legs and probably her bald pussy when he picked it up for her.
All through dinner, we laughed and talked and held hands and kissed the way lovers do when their love is new and fresh. Men stared at us, well Heather actually. She knew it; I knew it and we both loved it.
By her forth glass of wine, Heather had lost all inhibition and was very giddy. She was laughing almost constantly; causing her braless breasts to jiggle, fantastically, just the way I like. Our poor waiter had a devil of a time hiding his boner from the other patrons.
Practically on cue, David strolled by our table and even better, he caught Heather’s eye. Heather grabbed him immediately and even greeted him with an enthusiastic embrace and a sexy full kiss on the lips; telling him to join us. And of course he accepted.
Dessert was ordered. David ordered a cognac for himself and Heather; he offered me one but I declined. Between our waiter, David and me, Heather had the undivided attention of three very horny men. As we enjoyed our dessert, David kept Heather entertained by whispering compliments and dirty things into Heather’s ear. Heather giggled like a school girl and playfully swatted David on the hand pretending to be embarrassed.
David rested his hand on the bare inner thigh of Heather’s right leg and slowly rubbed it; pushing the hem of Heather’s short dress higher and higher up her leg. Neither Heather nor I did or said anything; we were both just enjoying the moment.
Heather was buzzed when we got up to leave so she was in a very good mood. She left David and me to go to the ladies room but not before giving both of us a kiss. On her way back to us I watched as she passed our waiter, whispered something to him making him smile and they immediately disappeared into the kitchen.
David went to get his car as I waited for Heather. Curiosity got the better of me so I went around to the back of the restaurant and in the shadows I could see Heather topless and on her knees; her right hand and mouth wrapped around our waiter’s cock and her left hand working the guy’s scrotum and balls.
Silently, I watched as my wife worked to bring this guy off. He had his hands on the back of her head; guiding her as she bobbed her mouth up and down on his hard pole. All too soon, the guy moaned and I watched as his ass contracted and he shot his hot semen into my slut wife’s mouth.
Once his contractions stopped, Heather stood up with her nasty mouth open so the guy could see his semen deposited there. She closed her mouth, swallowed and licked her lips before she opened her mouth again to show our waiter that his stuff was all gone.
About that time, I realized I probably should not have tipped him since I think Heather had given him a big enough tip already.
Still topless she made small talk with the waiter as he fondled her bare breasts and pinched and sucked her nipples. Now it was her turn to help him as she used her hands on the back of his head to guiding him in pleasuring her breasts.
His break ended far too soon for Heather and he went back into the restaurant a much happier man.
Heather waited until he was gone before she walked over to me. “I didn’t think you had seen me,” I told her as she stood in front of me still naked from the waist up. I took advantage of the opportunity to stroke her still wet nipples and fondle her bare breasts.
She just smiled before turning her back to me and asked me to, “Lace me up.”
I pulled the strings of the straps up to her shoulders, recovering her breasts, tightened the laces crisscrossing her back and retied the ends. With Heather decent again we were ready to find David and leave for more fun.
David took us to a dance club and for the next couple of hours Heather danced with us and several of the other guys that asked her. David and the others took advantage of their time with Heather as they ran their hands over the bare places of her body, repeatedly squeezing and fondling her tits and ass as they danced.
Heather and David came back to the table where Heather sat on David’s lap. David pulled Heather to him and wrapped his arms around her kissing her deeply over and over again. It still felt a little strange watching another man be so intimate with my wife but more than that, it was too much of a thrill to ever stop.
David’s hand was under Heather’s dress. He turned her so that I could see his middle finger slide in and out of my wife’s sopping wet hole.
Heather broke their kiss and softly whispered, “I’m ready.” David and I immediately knew what she meant. David settled our tab and drove us back to our hotel. Instead of going to our room though, David took us to one of the suites on the top floor of the hotel. A perk of being the cop in the hotel I suppose.
Once in the room it was apparent that David had prepared. The lights were dimmed and soft romantic music played in the background. David opened a bottle of Champaign that he had chilling in a bucket and poured two glasses. Handed Heather her glass, he took the other. I was here as an extra.
After sipping their Champaign, Heather and David embraced and began kissing tenderly, their bodies swaying in time to the soft music. Pangs of jealousy stabbed me in the stomach but my horniness kept me glued in place as I watched the erotic scene unfolding in front of me.
David’s hands gripped Heather’s butt cheeks tightly, pulling her body hard into his. Their tongues danced in and out of each other’s mouths as the sexual tension rose. I stood silently observing and videoing, recording another of my wife’s infidelities.
A tug of a string and the knot binding Heather’s dress to her body was gone. The twin threads crisscrossing Heather’s back slackened. David and Heather’s body separated enough for David to slide the cords down and off Heather’s shoulders.
The layer of golden fabric that had covered Heather began to be peeled from her body to reveal the twin succulent orbs of her breasts tipped with their matching pink spheres. David reverently held them in his hands whispering almost inaudibly, “So beautiful.”
David bent his head and drew one of the tender nubs into his mouth causing a sigh to escape Heather’s lips. David turned his attention to the other before returning to the first and then alternating one to the other. Heather entwined David’s hair in her hands encouraging him in his oral explorations.
Heather pulled away from her new lover long enough to slip her dress off so that she now stood naked for his admiration. Lascivious eyes raked over her pale flesh taking in the beauty of her nakedness. David was totally captivated by the sensual creature in front of him and could only keep repeating, “My god you’re so beautiful.”
It struck me how true he was and how much I had taken Heather’s beauty for granted through the years. Sometimes it takes having others to point the obvious out to you to know how blessed you are and how easy it is not to appreciate the gifts we are given.
David’s eyes settled on the vertical slit running between Heather’s legs. A shaking hand went to it and a single finger slid up and down its length which was wet and gooey with Heather’s love dew. Heather’s love lips parted and separated as the invader probed up and down. Heather’s eyes were closed and her face reflected the pleasure her lover’s digit provided.
David stopped rubbing and brought his sopping wet finger up to his nose to savor the heady aroma of my wife. The finger next went in his mouth for him to taste the ultra sweet nectar. My mouth was watering like I tasted the same sweetness David did.
After that, David guided Heather in a slow spin as his gaze roamed up and down the naked womanly vision before him. With Heather’s back to him, David next reached around Heather’s body to clutch her breasts greedily in his hands and pull her bare body into his. He pulled Heather’s hair to the side and sensuously began to kiss and nibble the tender skin of Heather’s earlobe and neck.
Heather’s breathing was rough and ragged and her constant sighing revealed her increasing agitation as her pleasure rose.
When Heather was ready she turned around to face her tormenter and began to release the buttons of shirt in preparation. In quick order David was unburdened of his shirt, pants and other garments until he too stood naked before his lover, my wife, his hard cock jutting lewdly out in front of him pointing straight at Heather for her own lustful and admiring gaze.
David was remarkably fit for his age, lacking the pot belly and love handles that are the plague of most men his age. A circular scar on his chest bore witness to a bullet wound suffered years earlier. In front, David sported a rock hard circumcised cock that stood straight and proud, 6″ long and fairly big around.
Heather toyed with it in her hands as she looked into David’s eyes and coyly giggled and smiled before she sank to her knees. Heather took her time admiring her latest toy; eyeing it appreciatively and rubbing her hands up and down and around its girth.
At the tip, a drop of fluid winked from the hole. Heather smiled playfully and stuck out her tongue and touched it to the opening in the purple head; tasting David’s first few drops of cum. Once these were gone, Heather opened her mouth and engulfed the tender flesh; her lips encircling the shaft behind the head. Heather’s cheeks alternately puffed out and drew in as she began to suck on David’s hard cock.
Silently I removed my own clothing and released my own over hard cock; it felt so good.
David could only stand much of Heather’s oral ministrations before he risked dumping his load down her throat. Despite the overwhelming feeling of pleasure he was feeling, he was intent on depositing his seed in Heather’s love box.
Without speaking, he reached down and pulled Heather to her feet. Engulfing her in his embrace, he kissed her lustfully before he lifted her off her feet and carried her into the bedroom as I followed close behind.
Once in the bedroom, they continued their lustful kissing until David laid Heather onto their waiting bed. Staring deep into her lover eyes, she opened her legs for her newest lover to admire her exposed slit and its tender fleshy folds for the first time. David’s eyes were filled with admiration and lust.
She ran the fingers of her right hand up and down her wet slit from her clit to her vagina several times until she stopped and separated her two tender petals; pulling them wide apart to unveil her most intimate pink treasure normally hidden beneath.
David took a few seconds to gaze at the womanly vision presented to him before he crawled between Heather’s spread legs and pointed his stiff member at Heather’s waiting entrance. Heather’s hand wrapped around his pole and David pushed forward, making contact and then slowly sank himself into my wife’s pussy.
Heather sighed and a low, growling, “yesssss” escaped her lips as the hard shaft slipped past her outer lips and began to fill her love tunnel with its engorged hardness.
Although I know it had happened several times over the last week, this was my first time to actually watch another man fuck my wife. On one hand, I felt like someone had just punched me in the gut. On the other hand, it was one of the sexiest, most mesmerizing things I have ever witnessed in my life; seeing David’s hard cock disappear into my wife. My wife, who until only a week ago had only had sex with me.
My cock still gets hard each time I watch the video I have watched hundreds of times of David’s hard cock sliding into Heather’s overheated vagina.
David’s ass began to slowly rise and fall as his cock moved in and out of my unfaithful wife. I could almost feel her moist tightness around my own hard cock, having felt it myself so many times before.
There was no way David was going to last long even though he was determined to take his time. I was still videoing the sexy scene and focused close up from behind as David’s rod slid in and out, building to the inevitable climax. The image of David buried balls deep in Heather filled the view finder as David’s balls pumped up and down; the unmistakable sign that David was pumping his hot semen into my adulterous wife.
David lay on Heather kissing her for a few moments before he rolled off of her and pulled his rapidly deflating penis from my wife’s just fucked vagina. I stayed focused on my wife’s pussy as it closed behind David’s just vacated cock; capturing the image of another man’s semen left in the interior of my wife’s tunnel and coating her delicate nether lips.
I never stopped videoing. I was determined to capture as much of the salacious scene as I could as David’s cream oozed from Heather’s pussy. As I videoed a finger came into my viewer and began to curve indicating it was my turn. I set the camera down still pointed at the bed and moved to where Heather wanted me.
Heather patted the covers next to her and I lay down next to Heather just like she wanted. I should have known what was coming but I was still surprised.
Heather smiled devilishly and straddled me with her legs on either side of my head. I gazed up at Heather’s bald pussy, slick and dripping from a mixture of Heather’s love juices and David’s freshly deposited semen, still steaming. Heather’s lowered her freshly fucked pussy closer to her target.
All through my life, I have always been told, how do you know unless you try? Until I began writing this story, I never thought about much about this say. However, this is an accurate description of our, Yvette’s and Brad’s sex life, and our sex life has always been exciting with a youthful willingness to explore our sexual boundaries. If you were to look at us now you would probably never guess that we have a healthy appetite for exploration. The experience I am about to retell involves a threesome that happened during the summer of ’96.
My wife, Yvette is eight years my junior. She is short around 5’1 with naturally curly shoulder length light auburn hair, green eyes and a curvaceous figure. Her breasts are 36B with a small nipple lie almost flat when not aroused but grows several time their size when aroused. While her skin is light similar to people of Irish, English, or Nordic descent. If you were to look at Yvette, your first guess would probably be mid-20 but the reality is she is closer to 40. She is almost eight years my junior and we met shortly after her graduating high school.
In contrast to her simple features, Yvette’s personality is quite complex. Probably the most interesting aspect of her personality is when you talk to her she comes across very progressive in her ideology but beyond her progressive mask her values regarding relationships are quite conservative. This comes about, I feel, because of her mother divorcing then remarrying in a short period when Yvette was young. For Yvette, I feel, this created a home with competing values. Also, I feel she was never was able to resolve the competing values and instead incorporated them into her overall personality.
An area where this dichotomy of competing values shows up is in her way of relating to people. Yvette is an outgoing individual who is quite confident. She is a patient and understanding individual who demonstrates a lot of tolerance for differing opinions. In contrast, in her personal life, she will listen to differing opinions but believes there are certain rules, regardless of how illogical or out of date they maybe, that must be followed. The conflict between adherence to rules and being tolerant of differing in opinion comes through when it comes to sex.
Yvette feels as though she must strictly adhere to society’s concept of femininity, being a wife, and being in a heterosexual relationship. While, there is another side of Yvette, a side that wants to push the limits of sexual exploration and become a sexually empowered woman. An example of this conflict, between pushing sexual boundaries and adhering to rules, continues to play today as she tries to find a balance between the two of them. For example, when we met, she already had a bisexual experience with another woman and she even participated in a two female threesome where she was the other woman who did not interact with the male. Oddly enough, I was the first guy she was ever with even though when it came to men she was quite flirtatious and remained flirtatious even after being married. However as time went on, she began shedding the need to push the boundaries in favor of adhering to standards society define but there are still times when the desire to push the boundaries comes through in her behavior. These internal struggles and opposing views makes Yvette a dynamic individual.
In comparison, I am quite taller than Yvette with darker hair, blue eyes, and my skin tone tends to be darker in complexion similar to Eastern European or Mediterranean in descent my experience included some two male threesomes, an open relationship, and being in a friend with benefit relationship before meeting Yvette. Unlike Yvette’s experiences, I have only had straight experiences. Also unlike Yvette who has competing views on life, I have always kept an even keel being open-minded while maintaining a consistent liberal outlook. However, as I get older I find when it comes to financial issues I am becoming more conservative but I still maintain a very liberal outlook on social issues. For me, I believe this comes about from my education and having a more stable family life as I grew up.
In our relationship, I tend to be the voice of reason while wanting to do more exploration that is sexual but not go into areas where I feel there is too much risk. Whereas, Yvette early in our relationship started out being sexually adventurous that resulted in us having a few two male threesomes. However, as the years passed she became more of the traditional American wife, developing issues with body image, not wanting sex as much, wanting a career, and preferring to spend time together instead of sex. Even with her becoming more traditional in her views, sex has always remained exciting and she still flirts with the idea of having another threesome.
So how did we get to the point of having a few threesomes in our relationship? As I reflect on them, I feel they were, for us as a couple, a bridge between married life and putting aside our youthful wild side. As individuals, I feel for Yvette, it was a confirmation that she was desirable and being able to put aside her past. For me, it was a chance to have a few more threesomes and allow Yvette the ability to explore this side of her sexuality.
At the time when most of our threesomes occurred we were like many couples just starting out, affording a mortgage was not possible so we chose to live in an apartment complex. The complex had several buildings, with a courtyard that had a pedestrian path, which led to a nearby park, and an outdoor community area. As a multi-unit housing complex, it nicely landscaped with large trees lining the border of the complex in order to give some privacy. Adding to its beauty it was located outside of the city that we work, which meant we had a long commute. However, its location and layout was perfect for helping us to unwind after work. Moreover, living in an apartment complex gave Yvette the opportunity for going on walks and in the summer occasionally lying out in the sun getting that perfect bronze tan.
The warm weather, that year, started earlier than usual, in mid-April, typically it did not start getting warm until lat May or early June. The early start to the warm weather gave Yvette an early start on her outdoor activities. On one of her walks, she met Jim, an older individual about 10 years older than Yvette and took an immediate interest in her. If my memory serves me correctly, Jim lived in a different building in a basement apartment. Jim is average height, with average build though he had some muscle definition especially in the upper-arms and chest and has short brown hair. Appearance wise he was a smoker whose face aged faster and usually has a days worth of beard growth. His clothes shows a bit of age and his jeans appear to be baggy on him giving him a bit more rough appearance. Normally this type of man could not get Yvette’s attention but there was something different about Jim. In contrast to Yvette and me, Jim was a bit cruder in his behavior than us. For Yvette, it provided a bit of a risk due to neighbors finding out, the attention from flirting is something she enjoyed, and made it a bit of an adventure for her.
Anyhow getting back to how Yvette’s meeting Jim led to a memorable sexual adventure, as spring became warmer the time she spent taking walks became longer. After noticing this, one day casually I asked her what was the reason and she began to tell me about Jim flirting with her. Probing a bit deeper I asker her, “Would you like to fuck him?”
To which she replied, ” no.” She said, “I enjoyed the attention and it makes me horny. But, nothing would come from it. I am a good girl and would not anything like that” After saying that she grabbed my wrist, without saying a word, she pulled my wrist towards her and then sliding it down her pants so that it touched her pussy. Normally her pussy does get moist when mildly aroused and it takes a bit of foreplay to get her really wet. This time it was so wet, when thinking about the experience, it reminds me of how wet she would get when should would talk about fucking other guys before she met me. She then smiled at me, blushing a bit, and said to me, “see.”
At this point, using my knowledge about our relationship, I knew this was a situation with potential but at the same time, it was fragile. This meant pushing the idea too much of her fucking Jim would destroy any possibility, regardless of how remote the possibility was but to increase the possibility, the idea needed nurturing. Nurturing meant, being supportive and encouraging it where possible while not appearing too eager. Also, this meant knowing when to ask about the flirting and when asking becomes too much. Essentially nurturing amounted to an art whereby instinct, listening, and it became vital by trying to put together the pieces of information to know how to proceed. For Yvette, it meant needing time to become comfortable with the idea and feeling secure with the idea before going through with it. Therefore, for the next few weeks, I kept quiet and letting her go about her daily walks.
About three weeks passed without me not saying anything. It was just after the Memorial Day weekend, at the end of May; Yvette started regularly tanning outside in the community area of the apartment wearing her size pink size 10 bikini with spaghetti straps that showed off her breasts. One day, I was outside on our deck grilling a 24 oz t-bone steak for me and grilling an 8 oz sirloin steak for Yvette. In the distance I could see Yvette lying face down on her beach towel but unlike the previous year, this time Yvette was tanning near Jim’s basement apartment window with the tie on her bikini top undone. Seeing her lying like with her string undone and lying in a different area intrigued me. The change in her behavior indicated to me this was a time to push the idea of her fucking Jim a bit further but stopping the conversation at the moment I hit resistance. When she finally came in, I mentioned what I had noticed. Oddly, mentioning what I had observed did not surprise her, as I thought it would, and her reply was a bit unexpected. She tells me, “Jim was still flirting with me through his window and he teasingly said I looked like a good fuck. I did not make much out of it.”
Again, I ask, “Would you like to fuck Jim?” I was expecting that she would give me her typical reply.
Instead, she said it, “It is tempting, quite tempting and I would love to feel another cock in me. But, I cannot go through with it. I mean it would be cheating and I could not deal with myself after it happened.” She continued, “How would we do it? I mean, everyone in the complex knows I am married and seeing me with him would look bad.” These statements told me that she was considering the idea at some level. However, the barrier seems to people finding out and she may have some issues about cheating. For me, to move it forward means supporting her is working and I need to give her some more time.
In order to help move it forward and attempting to address the relationship barrier I told her, “You know, it is not cheating if we agree to it, I am told beforehand, and provide you stick the boundaries we agree to then it is not cheating.”
“When you get married, you are not supposed to have sex with other people,” she said.
“I understand what you are saying and I love you no matter what you decide. However, I can tell the idea tempts you and I find it arousing. Maybe, we can find a compromise?”
She did not respond to the last statement and that told me she had hit, what I call information overload. By not responding to the last statement, it told me time to end that part of the conversation. The attention Jim was paying her was wearing her down and by not making a fuss over it seem to provide her with some more reassurance. During the next few weeks, our conversations revolved if she should go through with fucking Jim what would it mean for her. One conversation I recall her saying, “When I was out I was really tempted to say to Jim fuck me now but I held back because I did not how you would feel.”
“If you fucked him, I would not hold it against you because I know that is what you want and I would find it a turn on.”
She thought about it for a moment by not saying anything and she looked as though she was considering what I had made sense. “I know it would turn you on, me too but I could not go through with it. I wish that I could.” With the more recent conversations, Yvette went from telling me it was not going to happened to wanting to go to his apartment to fuck him but at the last moment deciding not to act on her impulses. A few moments later, she says to me, “You know, the attention Jim is giving me is quite a turn on. I love you but I enjoy the attention and want to know what is like to fuck him. If you know what I mean?”
“I know what you mean and it is something you want. Loving you and being married to you is different from just sex. Why is it wrong if you want to have one fling?” What Yvette was saying it was not our marriage was the issue but she feels she needs to fit in the role of wife thereby not giving in to her urge to have sex with someone else. After a few weeks of talking about it and having a few incidents where she was preparing to go through with it only at the last moment changing her decision, she finally decides that will approach Jim about her idea.
After approaching Jim about her idea, she talks about the conversation she had with him and if I remember correctly, the conversation went something like,
“You know Jim, I find you physically attractive and I am curious about what it would be like to be with you once,” she says.
“Yes, once. No one is to know about it and it is one time with no begging for more afterward.” Then she went on, “One more thing, before anything happens I need to be sure my husband is alright with it and nothing happens until he gives me the green light.”
“Okay, I can agree to it.”
To which Yvette said, “In the mean time, if I hear this becoming a part of the gossip around here or you push me for a decision from my husband then all bets are off.”
However, after telling me about the conversation she admitted, “I am quite nervous and I want it to happen naturally. I do not want to plan it out and I want to create a situation where it can happen without a lot of discussion. The more I discuss it the less like I am to do it.” So, we came up with a plan that she would start flirting with him but this time let the flirting go further by letting the flirting to become quite sexual. The twist this time she would suggest they go to Jim’s apartment to see if he is man enough to go through with what he says or if he is all talk.
“The two things that I ask. One, before anything I happens I want some notification so I do not worry if you do not come back right way. Second is I want you to tell me what happened.”
“Do not worry, you will know when it is going to happen and I will tell you everything.”
After saying that, unless she changed her mind or Jim started talking about their plans to other people in the complex, I realized that it was going to happen. I can remember the day. It was early July just after July 4th and it was in the low 100s. The air conditioning was on, and it was one of those days if you exerted yourself outside you put yourself at risk. Before leaving she spent, allot of time preparing.
Normally she does not shave her pussy but this time she did. Told me, laughingly, “If I did not shave down there he would be gagging on a hair and it would be embarrassing to dial 911 if he started coughing uncontrollably.”
As I saw her getting ready I asked, “Are you enjoying all of this preparation?”
“In some ways I am and I finding it arousing. In other ways I find it a pain and I am glad I do not need to do this all of the time.”
Seeing her spending a lot of time getting ready for someone other than me made me feel conflicted. A part of me found it arousing whereby I become rock hard with my heart racing, breathing faster, my palms definitely sweaty and being unable to sit still. Also there was a part of me that was a bit uncomfortable worrying about her safety and what it would mean afterwards for us.
It was not much longer before she was ready. That day she wore left wearing her pink bikini, taking her beach towel, and sunscreen. She must have tied that bikini tighter then normal because the tracing of her erect nipples shows under her bikini top. To this day I remember her saying, “I am going out to lay in the sun and with any luck Jim will be doing his best to keep out of the sun.”
A few hours passed and I knew what it meant. My heart began racing, palms sweaty, and I began pacing. A part of me was very horny and I wanted to save it for when she cam back. Another part of me, was worrying like a mother with a lost child. I remained in this conflicted state for a few hours until I heard in the distant the sound of the car door closing in the parking lot and followed by a few seconds later of Yvette trying to quietly walk down the hall as she approached the apartment. Once I heard that all worry subsided and I started to become excited to hear what happened. When she finally came through the door, I sitting in a chair with the lights off and the television on , I remember Yvette’s asking very quietly, “Are you up?” before trying to sneak into the bedroom.
Responding to that question, I tell her, “Where you actually expecting that I would be asleep while you were out fucking Jim?”
Yvette’s tone in her reply tells me that she is joking when she said, “no.”
The next thing I remember is her standing there. The light in the apartment accented her 36B breasts to the point where they appeared perkier than usual. To this day, I do not remember her breasts being perkier than normal that night. Finally, I remember the light showing a few love marks on her neck and her face flushed from embarrassment. I suspect her embarrassment was due to the fact I was still up hearing her get in and I believe she wanted to crawl into bed thereby me not seeing the marks on her neck nor smelling a musky fishy smell that I sometimes associate with sex.
Since I was up, she decided she would tell me about what happen. “After leaving the apartment, I wanted to be as causal as possible in order not to attract attention and I lay outside. A few minutes later Jim comes over and begins flirting.”
“So was he surprised that you were more flirtatious than usual?” I asked.
“Wait, I am getting to it,” she said.
“He begins by telling me how hot I look and that gets me horny. Then he says he would love to fuck both my pussy and ass. It becomes too much for and I told him that he would not last no more than one time.”
“Did that get him interested or did he loose interest?”
“Yes, he became quite interested and I could see he got hard. He did not want to become a part of the gossip grapevine of the apartment complex. Therefore, he told her that decided to take her to a nearby hotel and arranged for a cab to pick us up.”
“Was it a nice hotel?” I asked.
“No, cheap bastard” she said. She continued by describing the hotel as, ” One of those cheap hotels that you get for $29.99 a night that comes with a bed that looks as though someone died in which takes up most of the room, an old television that barely gets in 3 channels, and carpet from the 60s.” I could tell by her description she was not happy about his choice and it reassured me that this was a one-time thing.
Yvette went to some length talking about during the first hour they were both nervous, how they just talked while sitting on the edge of the bed and having a glass of wine. She went on talking about how he lacked confidence and beginning to doubt if this was a good idea. She tells me, ” I contemplated if this was a good idea since both of us were nervous. However, every time I began thinking about ending the evening, I would starting thinking about him fucking me and how badly I wanted his cock inside of me” She continued, “As I thought about what it would feel like if he fucked me it made me horny, which was enough to keep my interest.”
The coffee pot bubbled upstairs, its thick morning smell slithering down the cellar steps to bring my thoughts back to earth. I had been elsewhere, it seemed.
I set eight-six-one back in his cage and changed the water, the food. Then I checked the other cages to make sure the other creatures were still visible, or alive. They were both. I stumbled over to the rack of coats and robes that hung under the basement window and behind the stairs. Then I tied the rope around my naked body and heavily mounted the steps.
It was no use to a logical mind to think, what had I done? I knew perfectly well what I’d done and I’d enjoyed it. A little too much in fact. My fingers kept making contact with the smooth pine of the bannister and feeling the soft down of Amber’s stomach flexing under my grasp. Halfway up the stairs I stopped and drew my fingers to my face.
Her smell was almost gone, replaced by eight-six-one and the familiar aroma of wood and must. What if I had fathered another child tonight? What if I was unfaithful to Margaret?
What if that was just a malevolent spirit who haunted the neighborhood?
I smiled. My heart pounded under my chest from confusion and excitement and fear. And yet I was giddy; innocent; powerful and yet humbled by either the girl’s bold concupiscence or my own singular triumph. Hell, why not make it a double. Amber certainly left a good deal of restraint at the window; I couldn’t speak for the girl but there was certainly an aura of triumph about her all throughout her several climaxes… And I, what had I achieved? Everything.
I traipsed into the kitchen in my bare feet, my wife catching my eye over her pointed shoulder and simultaneously smiling into her phone and glowering at me. She was speaking enthusiastically – far too energetically for so early on a Saturday (was it Saturday?) but it was none of my business, or I chose to leave it as none of my business.
As I poured the coffee I suddenly realized that I felt shell less. Naked, obviously, beneath the robe, but that in itself was not uncommon. Rather, before no matter the woes and hormonal highs of Rebecca or the cold reluctance or alien sociability of my wife the words seldom penetrated because the latest failure, theorem, confounded hypothesis, existential convolution of algorithmic righteousness, boredom, numbers and dead mice were cloistered about my brain like cotton pulled over my ears and eyes.
My wife spun on me.
I had laughed aloud. She gave me a dirty look and stomped out of the kitchen, all the while carrying her high, boisterous enthusiasm over the conversation. I smiled bashfully to myself. I had not meant to let that escape but the wave had washed over me all at once.
I was suddenly free from that. Because it worked. After so long.
Not that I held the illusion that I was free from scientific (or perhaps moral, at this point) inquiry. There were still years of tests ahead of me, ahead of the Institute, of all of us. But… Hell…
I didn’t see Margaret for most of the day. We went to bed in silence that night (I having slept most of the day, waking briefly to drive Rebecca somewhere that was going out of business or going on sale, then coming home and devouring most of what remained in the refrigerator). In the morning of course she was already awake and straightening her hair.
Margaret, my wife, hated her curls. I had always loved them, the original trait that spurred my attraction to her, but she straightened them whenever she could; I disapproved but said nothing; she straightened them more. I sensed that in this, like in so many minute conflicts between us, there was always the brief opportunity for resolution. But we had been married a long time now, almost nineteen years (as long as I had lived without her) and we gradually let the unsaid stay unsaid, the gulfs of unpleasantness that could erupt at the mildest comment soon growing so wide that there was little to bridge the gap between what we had in common – which was little. Ultimately we, like her parents before us, stopped trying. It was easier and happened as naturally as one year following another. I knew this before now and simply not cared.
I continued to stare at her through the high french doors of the bathroom. I rolled over to my side and watched her in the bright light of the morning window; that heavenly light dwarfing the harsh artificiality of her vanity mirror. Her hair was shorter than when we first met, darker too because she dyed it. Her mother went gray at a young age and she was adamant to never find out what that meant for herself.
Margaret was older than I. She had been a Junior in college at the same time I was completing my accelerated sophomore year. Because I had graduated high school early she had been fascinated with me. Maybe, I thought, in bitter moments when I wondered how it had come to this, she gravitated to me because she was less intimidated by a younger man, thinking too that my intelligence and drive would render me low maintenance. She was right. But I wondered, as I was told by men who were not quite friends but nevertheless valuable companions in my final bachelor days, if she had planned it all. The sudden sexual bouts, the demure outer Catholic mask shed the moment we were far (far) away from students and teachers who knew her and safely ensconced in my dormitory where she unleashed herself on me. She needed very little in return and rewarded my occasional attentions with all that my studies could not relieve. It was perfect.
But I’d never asked about the precautions she was taking. I certainly wasn’t.
I was a young and selfish man. But smart enough to know when I was in trouble. Was I stupid enough to be duped? I always wondered.
But I had to smile now. Because it didn’t matter now. I stared at Margaret in the mirror, at her long lashes that her girlfriends endlessly coveted, telling me how lucky I was to have a wife with such bedroom brown eyes, telling me how impressively she had kept her figure. Margaret was a vegetarian, thin though never much for fitness, with teardrop breasts that sagged but in a full, heavy fashion. She had softened some, from her eyebrows to her ears and her nose, her pale lips. It did her complexion good, the way her chin no longer seemed so cruel or her long neck so strained.
I had been with another woman last night but I… I couldn’t tell where my new happiness sprouted from. Was it finally realizing I had won? Was it conquering that young, brazen runner? Was it just staring at my wife in her mirror? Perhaps it was all these things and more, or less.
“Where were you last night?” she asked.
I cleared my throat. “I worked late in the lab. You probably heard me…”
She pulled the iron away from her hair and squinted at me. “You weren’t in there.”
“I ran. Intermittently.”
“Oh,” she said, and turned back to her mirror. I rolled awkwardly in the bed and her voice floated back to me. “Has the Institute called you?”
She wanted me out of the house. “Not yet,” I said. “But I’m going to speak with some of the lab tomorrow.”
“After the carpool.”
“After the carpool,” I agreed.
“I’m going grocery shopping later. Do you want anything?”
“No,” I said. And that was our last conversation of the day.
I sat behind the wheel in our slanted driveway wondering how it would be to see Amber again. Rebecca had dashed next door to go get her, as she did every morning, and the two would walk back to the car – slower or faster depending on all the important events I was too square to hear.
They came back breathless, both of them wearing enormous grins and Amber especially looking healthy, happy and mischievous. “Well?” she asked my daughter after giving me a hurried hello. I put the car into reverse and rolled into the street while Rebecca pondered aloud.
“Ohhh, I don’t know!”
“Come on!” Amber chided.
Rebecca only laughed in reply.
“Do you believe in ghosts?”
I swerved the car and nearly flattened Mr. Potacki’s little Pomeranian. The girls shrieked and I quickly righted the car.
“What the hell, dad?!” Rebecca screeched.
“Dog in the road,” I said.
“I don’t see-” Amber started but I was already turning the corner.
It didn’t take long for the girls to calm down enough to resume their previous conversation.
“No,” said Rebecca, “that’s so stupid.”
“I think my house is haunted,” Amber whispered. She was downright giddy.
I watched Rebecca smirk in the mirror. “Haunted, huh? You don’t seem scared.”
“No…” Amber taunted. “I think it’s a lonely ghost.”
“Oh yeah?” Rebecca said. The fire was suddenly in her eyes. I realized the two girls were communing in secret right behind me in some significant but abstruse way. “What’s his name?”
Amber shook her head forcefully and Rebecca suddenly attacked her with a furious reaching of fingers and pokes. “Tell me! Tell me!”
“Ow!” Amber groaned. “Stop, stop…” The two were already huffing against each other in a giggling pile.
I regarded them coldly in the mirror. “You’re both far too old to be behaving like that.”
Rebecca rolled her eyes. “Lighten up, dad, this is a big deal.”
“I don’t understand.”
Both girls resumed their conspiratorial smiles. “We know.”
I left them to their huddled whispers, sure of nothing else but the fact that I was most definitely not the subject of their conspiracy. Rebecca knew enough that Amber had had some sort of experience in the last 48 hours. How deeply Amber herself believed in its supernatural validity was debatable, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves. My heart was going to beat heavily all throughout that day, seeing Amber or being found out, what I was about to do after I dropped them off, everything in my mind ensured that my body would be rapt and waiting for the slightest physical incitement.
Rebecca planted a swift kiss on my cheek and hurried out of the car to join the gaggle of girls gathering in the school’s parking lot. Amber pulled her long legs from under her and left her seat, closing the door promptly and pulling her dainty skirt around her calves. I was pulling the car out of neutral when she stepped back to the window.
I froze. I locked the car into park and lowered the passenger side window. She smiled shyly and leaned in.
“What is it, Amber?”
“I want to thank you.”
I raised my eyebrows in an attempt to mask the building tension in my jaw. “What?”
She pulled a lock of hair away from her lip and studied me for half a second before swallowing. “Just…the other night, talking to me.”
“Oh. No. No, not a problem, Amber. Cleared my head too, really.”
It was my turn to smile. “Yes,” I said.
“Okay,” she said happily. “Thanks again, Mr. Beal. Have a nice day!”
I waved back at her as she strode away from the car and joined Rebecca in the lot. It took five minutes to clear out of the parking lot behind the endless red lights of other vans and SUVs and then another five to get on the highway toward downtown.
Thankfully I wouldn’t need to go all the way into the city and could avoid rush hour traffic. Instead I turned off halfway down the pike and sped through the outskirts of Boulder towards the outer city park and the imposing acreage of one of the Institute’s many commercial research facilities.
I stuck my permit on the dashboard and waved at the security as I coasted in, parked, and walked determinedly up the peaceful brick walk between the glass and steel cyclinders of the complex, my hand in my pocket all the while fingering the glass vial in my pocket.
I encountered more and larger crowds of people the closer I got to Building G, most of them enthusiastic looking gentlemen in suits, some old, some surprisingly young. All of them looked hungry for something. I stopped at the employee entrance to the research zone and allowed the security officers to take my badge and frisk me (shifting my leg so that the small vial inconspicuously rolled behind my wallet). I glanced over my shoulder at the men in suits; they watched me curiously in turn. I had seen this before and I knew what it meant: the Institute was ready for business again.
After another kindly wave I was inside the building, my identity card swinging around my neck and my soles making authoritative smacks on the abandoned linoleum. Since disbanding the greater body of its advanced researchers the building was only occasionally used. The Institute had no qualms with allowing its senior staff to use the place but it discouraged too many of us gathering at once. After placing a call late Saturday evening I knew Pris would be working in G all day. After the mass outside I suspected that Pris would be doing more than working.
Priscilla Coker M.D. (with another Ph.D. on the way in advanced theoretical cellular electronics) was not a cold woman by any stretch of the imagination. At 31 she was already a leader in the field of both biological mutation and the budding nanotechnology industry, vivacious and endearing and outwardly one of the key faces of the Institute. She was 5’8″, platinum blonde (not naturally) and – as one of the key faces of the Institute – had to smile a lot and wear the sort of outfits that made lab work potentially hazardous. But the Institute needed that because most of us were not so striking to look at. Behind the veneer of Priscilla’s bright white smile, however, was an exacting, even cruel ambition. She was not, despite her high praise in the industry, its leading figure in theoretical transhumanist research. She had a good team of energetic graduates behind her that did what they were told and were rewarded accordingly. And many times over, if tales told out of school are to be believed. But there was a high burnout rate and young men in her brilliant cabal tended to last only so long. Which is not to say that Priscilla didn’t have talent. The girl could thread DNA like a fabled tailor if she ever got her hands on the right tools, and few understood the chemical reactions on the molecular level the way she did. It was never overtly clinical, her methods, but something emphatically instinctual. Public relations were as natural to her as being undressed. She was dangerous but valuable. And, after all, weren’t we after the same thing?
I found her door open, her legs shining under the heat of a solitary lamp at her desk and her knees crossed over each other in a short, red skirt. She looked up when I knocked on the door, her pale green eyes going from curious to tight in the time it took her to recognize me.
“Good morning, Pris.”
She smiled coldly. “Beal. I didn’t think you’d actually show up.”
I crossed her sterile and ordered office and sat down across from her on the other side of the desk. I appraised her shelves. “Your office is neater than anyone else I know. I suppose that’s one way to keep clean – don’t read the books.”
She sneered. “I heard one of the janitors nearly killed himself trying to get into yours. Bit of a health hazard, isn’t it? And besides,” she uncrossed her legs and leaned back, “at least I have friends.”
I leaned forward, my elbows on her desk. “You’ve got me there, Professor Coker. That’s exactly why I’m here.”
She gave a high, hollow laugh. “Moses comes down from the mountain, huh? You’re lucky you’re smart, Abner. Otherwise people might think you’re irrelevant.”
“Better that than illiterate, I always say.”
She frowned. “Why ARE you here? I really didn’t expect to see you. You’re always working.”
“I work until I get results.”
“Very funny,” she said. And stopped.
Her chair cracked as she slowly came upright. “What do you mean?”
“How are the nanites coming?” I asked casually.
“They’re still… they don’t seem to respond to photons the way we expected. The way I expected.” Ask Priscilla the right question about her work and she became just enough of a tolerable person. I never managed that trick myself. “I keep telling Corman that nanites are the wrong way to go about combatting the spectrum. I should be shifted over to neural engagement and let you and the rest of the sci-fi scum work on this whole optical nonsense.”
“Nonsense, is it?”
“It is…” She studied me coolly. “What’s up, Abner? You’re awfully pleasant for so early in the decade.”
She sighed and shook her head. “I don’t have time for this now anyway. I have a presentation before the investors. Remember that atmospheric shield you opposed?”
“I don’t oppose the idea but the method is entirely wrong. If you want to create a barrier that large you need ten times the output and a completely different agent for the plutonium. It will dissolve at that speed.”
“That’s not what Bostwick says.”
“Bostwick is a quack who still thinks he can send amphibians back in time.”
Priscilla waved her hands in the air, dispelling the possibility of my rambling on about meteorological endogenics. “Whatever,” she said. “The Institute wanted me to sell it to the money.”
I stood up. “What do you mean?”
She tightened her blouse around her shoulders and gathered her papers. She grinned like a jack knife. “It means they’re apt to take me at my word, Professor, which is more than I can say for you.”
“If the Institute gets that project up and running the whole Advanced Espionage unit will be shuffled back another decade. Even if they spent half the budget recruiting new blood there’s no way they’d have the manpower and money to sustain the rest of our research.”
“So wait till next decade.” She strode out of her office. I pursued hot on her stiletto heels. “I don’t know what you’re so pissed about, Abner,” she continued, “you’ll probably be picked to lead it.”
“Over sixty five individual devices and more than two dozen research units will be compromised by investment in some ridiculous vanity project that wouldn’t pass muster at a grade school science fair!”
Pris tossed her hair over her shoulder and laughed in my face. “That’s so cute! Since when did you give a shit about other units’ research?” She continued to march determinedly down the hall to the massive auditorium across campus.
“There’s a difference between science and fiction, Priscilla. And there’s such a thing as principles.”
She spun on her crimson heel. Thrusting a hand into my chest she stared up into my eyes. “Stop it right there, Abby. The Institute cares about two things: money and money. I’m sure you’re aware that you are dispensable, no matter how big your brain is. In the meantime though, why not enjoy that sloppy paycheck that comes your way every two weeks and get with the fucking program.” She narrowed her eyes.
I casually pried her fingers back from my shirt. “Language, Pris.”
She laughed another high, hollow laugh, each one of her pearly teeth glinting in the hallway lights. I watched her swallow that sound, her ruby lips puckering for a moment while she thought about what to do with me. Finally she said, “I’m going to enjoy watching you lead this vanity project. I hope your principles don’t send you and your musty office packing in a cardboard box because it,” she leaned in close, the words cutting through her teeth, “is going to feel so good to watch you try to figure out how to make Bostwick’s project fly. Because if I know anything about men with principles it’s that they’ll try to make shit smell like flowers before they admit defeat. Even you, Abner,” she pointed, again making sure she touched my chest, “will admit that. Are you really going to throw a tantrum to the Institute…just because you know the project’s a waste of your time?”
“So we’re agreed it’s a waste of time.”
She smirked and retreated back down the hall. “Of course it is. But I, unlike you, Professor Beal, have more on my mind than how super smart I am. I like to think about the number of bathrooms I’m going to have when this is all said and done.” I watched her shoulders tense as she drew her hands together. “I’m thinking six – just one more than I really need.”
“That is entirely superficial,” I said.
“Isn’t it great?” She was practically beaming with anticipation. We crossed the empty courtyard in silence and swiftly made our way to the bustling theater. She glanced into the guest entrance and quickly made for the back portico.
“Prepare to be rich,” she said and patted me on the arm. I watched her step behind the curtain and suddenly meet what sounded like hundreds of excited cheers.
I paced behind the curtain itself, listening to the opening joke about how stodgy the rest of us scientists were and how they must have all felt overdressed. Or something like that. By that point I was livid. Bostwick! An ignoramus spawned by a community of ignoramuses! What passed for science in his febrile mind would have choked a primate with its absurdity! And Priscilla knew! She welcomed it just as the Institute had because she knew it was exactly the kind of thing the investors were willing to pay for: flash and fury… There was nothing subtle about the atmospheric shield. It was just another buzz word for missile defense only now it was the twenty-first century and the magic was just within our grasp – for upwards of several billion inflated dollars!
I threw my arms about petulantly and felt ridiculous. Hadn’t I just come to reinvigorate this greedy place? One swig of this elixir and disappear! No need to invest in overpriced tomfoolery when you could send some invisible operative to just deactivate the enemy’s defenses. No missiles required! All it needed now was testing – testing to make sure the effects lasted, that there were no side-effects, that it worked. Hell, I knew it worked…
No missiles required.
I glanced over my shoulder at Priscilla’s erect posture while she dazzled the murmuring crowd with facts and figures and a questionably tasteful decolletage. She was right; she could sell them on it. She was poised, confident, and well organized.
The security was guarding the outside doors, not the inside. There were men at the foot of the stage but no one behind the curtain. I reached into my pocket and pulled the vial out. It caught the reflections of the stage lights in its thin glass, the liquid within shimmering where the light didn’t quite refract the way it should have. Why did I bring it anyway? For science.
I popped the rubber cork and drank it, not stopping to think, as I swiftly began to unbutton my shirt, what would happen if this invisibility gag was all in my mind when I stepped out in front of three or four hundred monied ladies and gentlemen. If it worked as quickly as last time I’d only need a few minutes for it to take effect. If it didn’t last as long as last time I could be in for trouble. But what was I going to do exactly?
I was already down to my boxer shorts and black socks when my fingers drained of all their color. It was like staring through a glass statue, my forearm. I trailed my fingers down my chest and watched chest hair hang in space and then shorten and vanish. I reached down and pulled the sock off of nothing at all, then the other, finally drawing my boxers from mid-air to the ground. I was gone.
“Priscilla,” I whispered into her ear, “do you believe in ghosts?”
The girl snapped her head to the side as if a bullet had swiped across her face. She hadn’t heard me come up behind her from around the curtain and, despite my lifelong stage fright, picturing myself naked in front of the fully clothed assembly was doing much more to inspire my confidence than the other way around. As soon as she turned her head I tapped her on the opposite shoulder – just like some kind of looney tune! She started and whipped to the side, suddenly reaching out into nothing.
I backtracked quickly behind her and let the projector at the far end of the auditorium glide through me to the opposing screen. The happy murmurings of the crowd had suddenly frozen; the whole gathering waiting to understand what had happened. Priscilla, ever the diplomat, smiled broadly and apologized for the sudden interruption. There was a mad fly looking to sabotage the operation. That got an appreciative chuckle from the crowd.
She went on with the speech, the projection behind us outlining the basic planning stages of Bostwick’s idiot schematics. I couldn’t have that. I moved back beside Priscilla and breathed softly in her ear. I had to hand it to the girl, she had talent. All she did was deftly cup her ear, as if pulling a stary hair back around her earlobe (which, for anyone close enough, was ridiculous – each of her hairs was perfectly in place). Then I glided behind her and blew into the next. When she waved that off I suddenly realized just how many were in the crowd before us.
Tentatively I strode towards the edge of the stage. I stared out at the legion of faces, even waved my privates at them, stuck out my tongue, made crazy grimaces. Nothing, no one could see me. I cast no shadow. I danced before the projector and made not a single impression. This was brilliant!
Of course I still hadn’t achieved my objective. So I sallied back to Priscilla and decided to do something drastic. I placed two fingers, very gently, on the back of her neck.
Her whole body went bolt upright but she continued her drone. Perhaps it wasn’t noticeable to the eyes in the back but those at the front were visibly bemused. Priscilla by now realized there was something on stage with her but I was just over her shoulder and I could see her scan her periphery and then the eyes of the audience. No one, not even her, could see anyone but her.
I let my fingers glide down her back, over the fabric of her suit jacket. One elbow tried to nonchalantly brush me away but the gesture was too awkward to carry off, so she swung her arm back, right into my face. Her fingers gave a trembling spasm as they connected with my nose and she couldn’t help but turn. But no, I still wasn’t there, but yes, she did let out a yelp.
Priscilla was by the second looking more frantic – not afraid, but suddenly on unfamiliar ground. She returned to the podium and gripped the sides of the lectern with overeager excitement. Now she had happened on a stilted tangent about the return on investment the bigwigs were guaranteed. Most of them were still on board. Some of them looked unconvinced.
When she went for the lectern she removed herself from my radius, but that was easily remedied. I came up behind her again and drew my fingers down her back. Her legs were shaking behind the podium, each muscle punished by the high stilettos and sweat actually visible in the spaces behind her knees. I wasn’t sure how far I intended to go but my hand was now resting on her impressively toned buttocks. The red skirt glided under my fingertips but still, even still, Priscilla continued to sell it.
So I gently brushed the skirt back and reached underneath. It ocurred to me, even at this stage, that this was twice now I’d used invisibility to my voyeuristic advantage. I wondered if the corruption was inevitable. Yet how corrupt was seeing a round, flexed bottom (my fingers crept stealthily past the band of her panties and into the wet crevice of her ass crack) and not experimenting?
Below Priscilla’s waist everything was shaking. It was as if her legs were caught in a miniature earthquake and her upper body was capable of floating above it. But I could see the tremors in the white knuckles on the podium. And we both knew that she couldn’t risk giving anything away to the attentive eyes in the darkness. I slipped deeper into her ass crack, coming behind her and laying a hand over her left fist. Priscilla glanced at it, glanced at where she figured my shoulders were, and after a sudden eruption of laughter or applause from the audience I heard her whisper away from the microphone, “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“You stop I’ll stop,” I whispered into her ear.
“You don’t have the balls.”
My hand slipped underneath her. I twisted my palm and pressed my fingers between her legs. I cupped her vagina and sunk my middle finger up inside her.
Priscilla’s sudden gasp was swallowed by a cascading round of applause.
“Okay,” she whispered as the applause died down. “Okay…” But even as she said it I watched her tighten her resolve and simultaneously felt her vaginal muscles tighten around my finger. She was going to try to ride it out. Ride was the operative word.
I began rocking my middle finger back and forth inside of her. Priscilla caught herself just before her knees buckled, then caught herself again as she tried to rock with it. The intense sweat collecting underneath her made her extremely slippery and my wrist and forearm were already damp wedged up against her body. I decided to send an exploratory thumb up into her anus.
“Polychromatic cells go beyond mere shading in this instance and na-ahhhhhhh!” Her sudden (almost erotic) outburst sent more than a few men to attention. It was as if I held her erect with my right hand, my left hand locked over hers, my fingers plugged into her body and her lower body noncomittally trying to force me out. “Nnmm,” she went on. “The fibers…” I wiggled my ring finger up inside what felt like a thick labial lip. “The fibers…” she gasped. “Ah.” She wet her lips and let out a tremendous breath. “To create this process, we…” My slick middle finger withdrew from her vagina and I slipped it gently up…
“We…” she tried again (the audience could not see her ass gently arching back onto my thumb, her back twisting).
My finger fondled.
“Oh,” she sniffed. “We, uh, ahm. Excuse me.”
My middle finger wicked across her clitoris.
“OH my God!” she suddenly blurted into the microphone. She slapped her hands over her mouth and darted to the right of the stage. My hand still stuck inside her panties I was dragged offstage with her, a weird fin-like protrusion seeming to hump out behind the girl’s skirt.
I finally pulled my hand away from her as she stalked through the theater doors and started lambasting the air.
“You dirty fucking bastard!” she shouted. The security guard started moving towards her and she shrieked at him. “Get away from me, asshole!” The man spoke some stuttered words into his walkie and backed away terrified. Priscilla clomped about ten more steps before cracking one of her heels. She swore loudly and kicked the shoe off, then ripped the other one off with her hand and continued to march across campus back the way we’d come. I followed behind her.
“Are you there?” she snapped as we strode back into G. We were in the hallway again.
“Indeed I am.”
She clawed wildly at the air behind her, realized she looked insane, and let out another stream of enraged curses.
“You might have gotten me fired!”
“Principles,” came the floating voice over her shoulder.
She groaned and shook her platinum head. “You touched me…” she muttered. We were stomping back to her office.
“You’re taking this rather well,” I replied.
“Well you’re obviously fucking invisible.”
We banged back into her office and she whirled on the space behind her. “Where are you?”
“I’m reluctant to say.”
She stepped backwards in her bare feet and sat on her desk. “Is this easier?”
I stepped forward cautiously. “Maybe.”
She flipped up her skirt. “Is this easier?”
“Come here…” she said huskily and reached out for me. “Are you naked?”
Before I knew what I’d done I was standing over her desk and she was reaching out to me. Her fingers first brushed my cock and I watched her eyes go wide as my stiff member passed invisibly through her hand. “Oh my God…” she whispered. Her manicured nails sifted into my pubic hair and roved up my stomach and chest. “You’re…you fucking did it…” Her fingers continued across my shoulders. She kept pinching and poking, dragging her nails down my sides. All the while I noticed that she was spreading her legs over her perfect desk. “Do something to me,” she whispered.
“I- I don’t know. My hair!”
I reached out and swept my fingers through her thin blonde, nearly white, hair. I let the hair slip through my hand as I pulled it towards me. Priscilla watched wide eyed as her hair floated before her eyes. She let out a low, earthy laugh. “Do something else,” she whispered.
“Do what you did on stage, you bastard.”
“This?” I laid my hand over her left hand.
“No…” she said. Her legs opened wider on the desk.
“This?” I breathed softly into her ear.
She shivered but shook her head. “No,” she said. “But you don’t have to stop doing that…” While I moved in closer her hands reached up to run down my chest and stomach again.
I pulled my hand away from hers and dragged my trembling fingers up her soft thighs. “This?” I breathed into her ear.
“Oh…” Her breath was coming so rapidly that it was catching in her throat.
I drew a finger over her (what I now saw were lacy, crimson) panties. She sucked a tremendous amount of air down her upturned mouth and fluttered her eyelids. “This?” I said into her ear as I slipped my fingers inside of her.
Her legs clamped shut over my invisible hand and she ground her pussy against me. “Yes,” she groaned. She pressed her head against my temple and reached behind me to claw at my back. “Oh, you fuck…” she groaned.
I don’t know what possessed me other than sheer, powerful lust. I reached down and tore her panties apart. She gasped as she saw the flimsy material fly from her bald pussy. “You wouldn’t,” she taunted.
“This?” I said, and pushed my cock up against her skirt.
“Bastard,” she whispered, reaching for it and dragging it down. “Bastard,” she moaned as she led it to the entrance of her slit. “Fuck me,” she demanded as her thighs raised to allow me entrance into her-
The two of us slammed back to reality as the voice came bawling from the hall. “Holy Hell…” Priscilla rasped as the sound of footsteps came trundling towards us. Gathering her bag and a few choice items she grabbed where she figured my wrist was (missed, but I grabbed her fingers) and pulled me out her office door and down the hall in the opposite direction. Both of us were barefoot and our soles slapped down the hall and made several extreme turns around and around the complex, all the time the voices behind us, all the while more footfalls in pursuit. At last we burst from the building and sprinted towards the parking lot.
“You have to make sure I don’t get fired!” she yelled over the racing wind.
“Sexual harassment!” she screamed. We scurried over the grass and flew into the parking lot. “Where’s your-” She must have realized I was either invisible or without pockets because she suddenly pulled to the left and started pumping her elegant legs towards her own car. “Are you there?” she called back.
“I am,” I said at her side.
She panted. “How are you right there?”
“I run a lot.”
She unlocked her doors from a distance and we piled in on either side.
“I did not intend to get you fired,” I said.
“Right,” she replied. “Fuck you just the same, Abner.” She started the car and we pulled out fast. “And if you don’t mind, nobody needs to know about what may or may not have almost happened back there. This has been an incredibly stupid morning.”
I buckled the seatbelt over myself and Priscilla did a double take.
“That’s so weird.”
We pulled away from the complex and got back on the highway towards suburbia.
“Okay, look,” she said, dragging her fingers through her hair. “I’m going to try to salvage this. I’ll tell Corman and the heads that you’re on top of this.” (She seemed awkward with the phrase.) “I’ll tell them… I had a bluetooth or something and you had a eureka moment or… Dammit, Abner, you better not have got me fired!”
“You’re still taking this well.”
“Because fuck Bostwick!” she bellowed. “You’re invisible!” She reached over and spread her hands over my chest. “And you’re…in much better shape than I imagined.”
“You’re still a pain in the ass, Beal. And I’m not the only one who thinks so.”
“But I am a genius.”
“Unfortunately,” Prisiclla sighed, merging into the carpool lane, “you are.”
“You’re in the HOV.”
“So what?” She thought for a moment. “Right.” She merged back into the fast lane. “I will help you,” she said. “But you have to help me, too.”
“That’s why I came to you.”
“You can’t tell anyone else for now. Who else knows? Your wife? You have a wife, right?”
“She doesn’t know.”
Briefly I thought of Amber. “No one,” I said. “And,” I continued, “the formula is not in my laboratory.”
She glanced at me, or the window really, from behind her blonde tresses. “So what?”
“In case you were thinking of having the Institute take what they rightfully own…instead of firing you.”
She turned back to the road. “I wouldn’t do that.”
We drove on in uneasy silence.
I gave her directions to my address and she drove me home. It was almost one in the afternoon but it already felt like a whole day had passed. I had taken the serum only two hours before so I had at least four (and likely five) more hours until I was visible. It would be strange, I realized, when I saw Priscilla again. Being invisible, without meeting one’s eyes in reflection, gave a curious but compelling objectivity to one’s consciousness – and at the same time an inescapably powerful lack of accountability. I could never have done the things I’d done in the past few days if they could see my face.
But it wasn’t just that they couldn’t see my face, Amber, Priscilla, my wife, the audience… It was that I had no face at all. I was not simply myself invisible; I was a void: a complete non-entity who nevertheless had hands and blood. And could do things. And could both create and destroy while being nothing, nowhere at all. I resolved not to think on this too deeply. It was not my way, and I wondered if it was not to my advantage to ponder too deeply on how unfettered and unopposed I had become.
“Can you get inside without a key?” Priscilla asked.
“I’ll find a way,” I said. I unbuckled the belt and opened the door. “Thank you.”
She reached out. I stopped. She held my forearm in her fingers, not out of longing but curiosity. I let her study it, pinch me again, feel my veins beneath my skin and the hair under her thumb. “You really did it, Abednego,” she said. “You sick bastard.” She gave me an alluring, half-mocking smirk and watched the door swing wide and shut. Then she peeled away from the driveway and zoomed out of the suburbs honking all the while. We had agreed to meet at the week’s end when she had had time to smooth over the mess I’d caused.
At the very least I had saved over sixty-five projects from total obscurity, and the jobs of at least half that number. Not something I would have considered before and, in truth, my actions this morning were selfish ones. Yet selfish actions can have charitable results, now and again.
My front door was unlocked.
I hadn’t really thought about it. I’d just wandered to the front door, forgetting my nudity and the fact that I was keyless, and pantsless besides. But the knob turned and swung open in my hand. I denied the urge to call out, to ask if anyone was home.
Because there was very definitely someone home.
I could hear them upstairs. At first, as I searched the bottom floor, all I heard was a muddled bumping, an inconstant creak that was gone as soon as I focused. But there was a greater urgency to the sound, a harder force behind it. The commotion was building somewhere and it was becoming clearer that whoever was causing it was certain they were alone.
The sound of a woman’s voice filled the house. It echoed down the stairwell with an unquiet command, wild, gaining ferocity and passion as it bounced throughout the kitchen. Was it Rebecca, I wondered? Had she cut class and come wandering home with some teenage specimen of fumbling ardor? It sounded too harsh for Rebecca.
Peggy had been ill and I wanted to show her a good time. We own a sailboat and actually sail competitively about every month but usually a leisurely sail on a lake is not on the agenda. So without telling her I had a friend pack morning meals and lunches for a long three-day weekend. Then I had the boat cleaned up by a kid at the boatyard, where we kept the craft, stuff Peggy does to get ready when we sail. I got home late from “work” on Thursday so I could launch the boat on Crescent Lake and check the boat out and make sure there would be no problems with the sails or the motor should we need it.
I told Peggy I wanted to go down to the boat early on Friday since we had not sailed in a while due to her illness. So we were out the door by eight-thirty and she was surprised to learn the boat was at the lake. When we got there I said, “Surprise; All aboard for the weekend cruise!” and we were off and out on the lake by nine-fifteen. When I say lake to some of you folks might be thinking “big deal a sail on a lake” but Crescent Lake is a large body of water that’s half as wide as it is long and when your in the middle of it it’s like being on a calm ocean of fresh water with no shoreline in sight. I thought I had packed everything we would need to stay on the lake all weekend only needing to head for a shoreline for dinner. But other than the clothes on our backs I had neglected to pack anything else to wear, so much for my dinner plans. You see packing is also something that Peggy handles when we sail. So when she went below to change out of her jeans and shirt to a bathing suit she soon returned to inform me of my faux pas.
I was busy kicking myself and dreading turning back to get to our car when my wife of twenty odd years surprised me back by emerging from the cabin with nothing on but a smile and two glasses of wine. Now Peggy being a former competitive body builder has always kept herself in great shape and while her illness was a terrible ordeal it had left her even leaner than usual. Needless to say she looked slender and sexy gliding toward me with hand outstretched to give me my glass of wine.
My wife is usually pretty modest and this was a huge departure for her. However she wasn’t finished surprising me yet. She handed me the wine and placing hers down she snuggled behind me and said, “What’s good for the goose . . .” she pulled my pants and underwear down to my feet in one quick tug “…is good for the gander.” She finished. She held my cloths so I could step out of them; fortunately I had removed my shoes and socks when I first came aboard. She stood and pealed my button-down shirt off my back one arm at a time so I was also in the altogether. The feeling of the wind blowing over my body was almost as arousing as the sensation of my wife’s naked form pressed against my backside. Her hand rubbed sensuously from my chest to my groin repeatedly, stopping at my pubic area above my quickly thickening penis.
She sipped her wine and whispered reassurances that while I forgot the cloths this may be exactly what she needed to celebrate her return to life, as it should be. We sailed on enjoying the wind and sun on our naked bodies, my wife working to maintain my aroused state while at the same time not doing anything overtly sexual. She nibbled my ear and continued her massage of my skin, with both hands now, and after she applied tanning butter; rubbing my back in a very clinical way did nothing to alter my turgid penis. She then started to slide her body over mine saying this was her way of transferring the tanning butter to her own skin. First she turns her back to me and slid her backside against my back and then she turned and along with the little kisses she trailed there she raked her tiny breasts and long nipples from my back down to my legs. When I felt her hard nipples glide over my butt cheeks it caused me to raise on my toes for just an instant like I’d received an electrical shock.
This was all I could stand; I quickly dropped the sails and the anchor. I rushed to embrace my partner in my arms and kissed her with all the passion of a bridegroom. Holding on roughly to her firm onion butt I pulled her toward me letting my erection press hard to her engorged and protruding clitoris. Did I mention that when my wife is aroused she has a clit that looks like a tiny cock? It is so hot when she gets going because it literally throbs. Although she seems to have a neat well shaven pussy her inner lips flower in excitement and then protrude out. I like to pull down on her lips and listen to her breathing as she sucks it in when I reach the point between pleasurable and painful.
But today all I really wanted was to sink my cock into her dripping cunt. I backed her toward the stern and laid her down on the seat, roughly pushing her legs to the hard nipples on her flat little tits, exposing her pussy and asshole to the lake and me. I rubbed my cock over her fuck hole then positioned the tip of her swollen clit on the hole in the tip of my dick and pressed upward. This got her attention and she asked, no pleaded for me to shove my cock into her. Well, I’m an obliging guy so I rammed it in balls deep as hard as I could and the air rushed from her lungs as I did so.
I fucked her at a furious pace and impressed myself with the speed and force with which I battered her tight cunt. She clawed my back and dug her heels into my shoulders. At one point she reached down and roughly grasped my scrotum with her thumb and forefinger above my balls pulling me into her until she could not match the speed of my pounding hips. Then I felt the gush as she came and it seemed like buckets of pussy juice washed over my cock and balls and onto the deck. This was followed; by my feeling my impeding climax and I said so. My wife pushed me back and slid quickly to land on her ass with a thump on the deck and take my cock deep into her mouth in one smooth motion. I could feel the back of her throat as it closed around my dick and then I was cumming deep in her throat. She never missed a drop, how could she my cock was lodged in her throat and I could actually feel her heart beating with the tip of my dick. I must have spurted seven times and when that was over she still held my cock in her mouth and suckled for more.
She released my cock from her lips and I knelt down on the deck kissing her lips and then trailed down her body to suck on her long sexy nipples and down again to her sopping pussy, cleaning her juices from her before taking her cock like clit into my lips and sucking it, licking it and even giving it a nibble till again she came copiously and I pressed my face deep into her cunt to bath in it. She sat up and licked my face clean of her juices causing my cock to even greater rigidity than it had gotten to be from eating her pussy.
I rose and had her up on “all fours” and began pressing my cock into her cunt but she topped me. “In my ass Jamie” she pleaded. I sat back, on my heels, leaned forward and licked her pretty asshole, working my tongue as deep as I could, causing her to shiver conspicuously. I then brought my cock to her tight brown eye and pushed my cock slowly in. Inch by inch my prick disappeared into her ass and it was so tight I feared I would cum before ever giving a full stroke. But I stopped and waited for her to relax and her hole soon loosened enough for me to press onward and inward. When my cock was scrotum deep in her ass I waited again and merely wiggled my cock around in her bowels. She began to moan and I knew it was time to really fuck her ass. I drew back and slowly slid into her, then faster the next stroke. Still faster on the third and so on until I was methodically sawing my cock in and out of her ass like it was a cunt. “Fuck my ass harder,” she said, “fuck me deeply.” I began pounding as I did before in her cunt; she grunted with every forward thrust and hummed on each withdrawal.
I would like to say I lasted a long time but even though I had just dumped the biggest load of cum I think I ever had down her throat it was very soon that I felt the need to fill her ass with my spunk. I shot maybe three or four spurts into her bowels and collapsed back on my heels as I withdrew. She turned and engulfed my prick with her mouth and cleaned my sperm and her ass flavoring from my cock like a practiced whore on a workday. To be honest this was without a doubt the hottest sex session we ever had in all our years together and in the afterglow I pondered the fact that it will probably be the only one like it. But who cared I knew that I would see a glimpse of this afternoon at other times and I love this woman no matter how nasty she does or doesn’t get.
Introduction from the author
This is the fourth chapter of a longer story titled The Lingerie Incident. I greatly appreciate any and all who read the previous installments and left comments or voted. Special thanks to blackstallion21 for taking the time to edit this for me.
The weeks that followed were a blur of activity for all of them — both in and out of the bedroom. Misty and Kevin were both very busy with work, often leading each of them to late nights at the office trying to get caught up. On top of that, a strange mood had come Misty since her sister moved in and her libido was in overdrive.
Kristen was progressing steadily with her pregnancy and looking sexier and sexier each day as her body changed. To top it off she was just as horny, if not more, than she was before. Several late nights were spent in Kevin’s office with her sprawled out on his desk, moaning and writhing as he shot his seed inside her.
One Thursday afternoon, about four months after she moved in with her sister and brother-in-law, Kristen called Kevin at work.
“Hey Kris,” he said, answering his cell phone.
“Hey. I just got back from my checkup.”
“How’d it go?”
“Pretty good, they said the baby is growing fine. They were worried about my blood pressure being high though.”
“Is that bad?”
“It can be. They want to keep an eye on it. I also talked to the doc about that test he told us about, remember? The Chorionic Villus Sampling?”
“Sure I remember. He said they could see if I was the father with that test.”
“Right, well I asked about it, and he said that because of the blood pressure he thinks we should hold off just too be safe.”
“Oh ok. Yeah if he thinks it’s best to wait, we should wait then.” Kevin agreed. He was more than a little disappointed though. He needed to know if that was his kid or not.
“So…” she asked quickly changing the subject. “What time are you coming home? Want me to meet you at the office?”
“Nah, I’ll be leaving on time today I think,” he told her, “Misty won’t be home until late though. She has some presentation to finish up.”
“Ooh, so we’ll have the house to our selves then?” The suggestiveness in her voice was impossible to miss.
“Yeah- hang on a sec, Misty’s calling in.” he clicked over to the incoming call without waiting for her to answer.
“Hey babe, what’s up?”
“When you get off, can you come by my office for a while? I need your help with some stuff.”
He cursed under his breath.
“What? I didn’t get that.”
“I said ‘sure honey, no problem’.” He assured her he would be by as soon as he left his office and quickly clicked back over to her sister.
“Hey handsome, I’ve been laying here on your bed thinking about what we’re going to do tonight.”
“Yeah, um about that. Misty needs me to come by her office to help her with something. I’m sorry baby.”
“Dammit!” Kristen whimpered on the other end, clearly upset. “What am I supposed to do with this freshly shaven, dripping wet pussy?”
Images of her beautifully plump pussy filled his mind. “You’ll just have to keep it wet until I can give it proper attention.”
“Mmmm..I think I can do that. But you have to try to hurry, I need you bad! ” Her voice wavered as she hung up and he closed his eyes, his vivid imagination painting an erotic scene in his mind: Kristen sprawled naked on the bed he shared with her sister, teasing her throbbing clit with Misty’s vibrator. He shook his head to clear the distracting thoughts and tried to focus on his workload. It was going to be a long day.
When he got to Misty’s office later that evening he found her in the large conference room, surrounded by books, reports and little paper boxes of Chinese food. The office was silent and deserted save for the two of them.
“Hey baby,” she said, looking up from a two-inch thick bound spreadsheet. “Thanks for coming by.”
“No problem.” He kissed the top of her head as he took a seat beside her. “It looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you. What’s going on?” He motioned to the stacks of books and paperwork spread out on the table.
“You can say that again. We’re finally going to trial on that hi-rise collapse from last year. You remember?”
“Remember? How could I forget?” Kevin’s firm was originally contracted to be the lead designer for the project, but the developer changed directions at the last minute. From what he had heard the developer was cutting corners and using substandard materials to save costs.
“I’m just glad you weren’t a part of that fiasco.”
“Yeah me too, so what did you need help with?”
“See that stack of reports?” She pointed to a foot-tall tower of paper at the other end of the long table, “Those are the structural specs and test reports. Can you look over them for me?”
“Sure.” Eyeing the massive pile he made his way to the other end of the table and sat down. He quickly sent Kristen a text message:
Hey sexy…looks like we’re going 2 b a while. Sry
A moment later his phone vibrated against his leg. Misty was engrossed in her work and not paying a bit of attention to him at the moment. He pulled out the phone and checked the message on the screen.
No!! I need u so bad! What am I supposed to do with this?!!
Attached was a close up picture of her very wet, very pink pussy spread open and waiting.
God ur killing me! I’ll try to hurry. He shot back.He turned his attention to the massive report, determined to get through it as quickly as possible.
As it turned out, hurry was not going to be in his vocabulary. They spent the next few hours going over their respective reports and idly chatting about their workdays. Sometime around seven-thirty Kevin looked up from the last page of his report and noticed that Misty was no longer in the conference room. He hadn’t seen her leave, but then again he had also been preoccupied with the monotonous reading and the hard-on he was sporting from the progressively sexier and dirtier pictures her sister was sending to his phone. He finished the last page of the report he was reading and stood, stretched and adjusted the bulge in his pants to what he hoped was a less noticeable position then went to look for his wife.
The main office was dark, the only light coming from the exit signs and the island of light spilling out of the conference room door. At the far end of the hall was another island of light and he made that his destination. Misty was in her office searching her bookcase for something. Her back was to the door, and she was bent at the waist, giving him a very nice view of her pin striped slacks cupping the curves of her ass. He snuck up behind her and grabbed a double handful of the luscious rear making her jump and squeal.
“You scared the shit out of me!” Misty quickly spun around to face her husband.
He gave her his best evil grin, “I just couldn’t resist. You had your ass stuck out and it looked so inviting.”
“Oh yeah, and just what did you intend to do with it?” She sat on the edge of the large cherry desk, leaning back slightly with a playful smirk on her face. Her blouse was pulled tight against the perky lumps of her tits teasingly. He stepped forward and she wrapped her legs around his waist.
“Well,” he said as he pressed his bulge into her crotch. “I thought I’d start with this.” She looked down and then back up to him, her grey-green eyes sparkling, daring him to do something. Their mouths pressed together tightly, tongues searching and finding their counterparts easily while his hands fumbled with the buttons on her blouse. He kissed his way down her neck as he stripped it and the black lace bra it concealed off of her. Misty thrust her chest out, presenting the soft orbs of her breasts for his attention. He took each nipple into his mouth in turn, softly biting and suckling the hard little nubs and causing her to moan and giggle.
“Ahhhh.” she breathed in an uncharacteristically husky voice, “you want to fuck me on this desk stud? I can see that you do. You want to bury this throbbing piece of meat inside of me don’t you?” She accentuated each word with a thrust of her crotch against his own.
“God, do I ever.” he hissed back at her.
“I sure hope the boss doesn’t catch us,” she winked, “she can be an uptight prude sometimes.”
Now it was her turn to fumble with his buttons as she tugged at his shirt and belt. Soon enough she had him exposed, slowly running her hand over the swollen shaft. Each stroke milked another drop of pre-cum onto her hand. Without a word she slipped to her knees. Her face was warm and smooth against his skin as she rubbed his cock all over it, pausing now and then to kiss or lick a spot. She kissed her way up the ridged underside to the very tip and planted a little kiss. She looked up at him again, smiling with the head of his distended penis resting on her pouty lips. Without taking her eyes off of him they parted and he melted into the wet velvet of her mouth, sliding further and further down until her lips met the smooth skin at the base.
Kevin loosed an inarticulate groan as he felt her throat and tongue working around the new intruder of their domain. Suddenly she pulled back, letting him fall from her mouth and gasping for air. Thick saliva coated her chin, dripping down to her breasts.
“That big dick felt sooo good in my throat.” she purred. “I bet it’s going to feel even better in this tight little pussy.” Her right hand was between her thighs, rubbing her mound through her pants. She stood, stripping the hip hugging slacks that started all of this from her waist while leaving the black lace panties beneath them on, and bent over her desk. She looked back over her shoulder at him, swaying her hips back and forth. He couldn’t help but stare at that beautiful round ass.
“Are you going to fuck your horny wife or not?” she asked playfully after a few seconds, snapping him out of his stupor.
“I’m going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before baby!”
With his cock in hand he stepped forward and pulled her wet panties to the side to reveal her glistening slit. He slid the head over her swollen lips, stopping with the tip just inside her folds like a nocked arrow waiting for release. Misty pushed back against him, eagerly urging him to penetrate her. They moaned in unison as her elastic lips stretched around the head of his cock and it sank into her. Her tight walls squeezed it in an iron grip, clenching and releasing around his girth, massaging him, trying to drag him in deeper until he was completely inside of her. He could feel the hard rock of her clit brushing against his balls as she ground herself into him.
“Oh god that feels sooo good.” his wife moaned when he started to rock back and forth in long, slow strokes.
“You like that baby?”
“Yes, I love your big cock Kevin. Fuck me hard. Make me your little slut!”
Her words energized him, and he started to pump his cock into her in earnest; pulling out almost to the tip before slamming the length back into her. With each thrust his pace quickened until his cock was a blur of meat impaling Misty’s taught body. An obscene narrative was pouring from her mouth, invigorating him further.
He paused long enough to grab Misty’s waist and flip her onto her back on the desk before slamming back into her. Their eyes locked, and he saw pure ecstasy staring back at him in hers: she was as close to the edge as he was.
A shudder rocked her body and as if reading his mind she cried out. “Oh fuck Kev! Don’t stop! I’m going to cum!” Quieter, she begged, “I want to feel you come inside of me.”
Kevin looked at her, stunned by her words, his rhythmic thrusting slowing. Images of that first time with Kristen flashed through his mind; she had said that exact phrase that fateful night.
Misty was moaning loudly and shaking in his grasp as her orgasm finally tore though her. “Oh Kevin, fuck me! Fill me up!”
The sight of his wife writhing in pleasure brought him back to the moment, and he renewed his thrusting. A half-dozen more strokes into the molten forge of her pussy and he exploded, pumping her full of his seed.
She cried out in pleasure with every twitch and spurt of his ejaculation. “YES! OH YES!”
Finally it was over and Kevin collapsed into her open arms, resting his head on her heaving chest while his cock wilted inside of her. Above them, unnoticed and inconspicuous, a small black eye and smaller red light looked on in cold electronic observation.
Later, driving home behind Misty, Kevin phoned ahead to her sister.
“Hello?” Kristen asked sleepily.
“Hey gorgeous, we’re on our way home.”
“Mmm hey. Sorry, I fell asleep. What happened? You stopped texting me back all of a sudden.”
“Sorry, I was, ah, preoccupied for a while”
“Oh yeah?” she asked sounding more awake. “Did it have something to do with my sister by chance?”
“You could say that.” he offered.
“Well maybe you’ll have to fill me in on all the dirty details.” she said suggestively.
That wasn’t the first time she had inquired about his sex life with Misty. It seemed like she wanted to know every detail so that she could one-up her sister in some way. Not that he was complaining about it or anything.
“I might just do that,” he teased, “if you’re a good girl.”
“Wouldn’t you rather me be a bad girl?”
“Yes” he said smiling to himself, “very bad.”
“Well hopefully I can show you just how bad I can be when you get home.” She purred. He looked down at his watch and winced. It was quarter to eleven already.
“We’ll see. We should be home in about fifteen.”
“K.” she said and hung up.
When they finally arrived home the house was dark and Kristen was nowhere in sight. Misty excused herself to the shower with a quick peck on the lips while Kevin plopped down on the couch to catch the late news, hoping Kris would come down stairs. He must have been more tired than he realized, because one minute he was staring at the talking heads droning on and on about the economy and which Muslim blew up what embassy, and the next he was opening his blurry eyes to an infomercial for a blanket with sleeves. Groggily, he looked down at his watch. To his surprise it was almost two a.m. he clicked off the TV and headed to bed.
As he was passing the kitchen something caught his eye through the French doors leading out to the pool deck. The pool lights were on. He walked over and stuck his head out the door to look around but didn’t see anything, and was just reaching around to switch off the lights when someone cleared their throat. He spun to the left and there was Kristen in the pool, her head just visible over the stone edge.
“I was beginning to think you were going to sleep there all night.” she giggled as he strolled over to her. “Care to join me?”
The night had turned out hot and humid and the blue water looked extremely inviting but he hesitated, shooting a glance up to his bedroom window that overlooked the pool deck. No lights on up there, Misty must have gone to bed without him. When he looked back down Kristen’s bathing suit top was on the deck beside his feet and she was swimming away across the pool in a slow, fluid back stroke that left just the white globes of her breasts and the growing dome of her tummy exposed above the water. The increasing pressure in his pants told him that his mind had been made up. He quickly stripped down and slipped into the tepid water. He wasted no time in following Kristen to the far side of the pool near the shallow end.
As he swam up to her, she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, pressing her body to his. “I almost gave up on you, you know.”
“I’m very glad you didn’t.” he told her while kissing down her neck to the deep ravine of her cleavage.
“Was it worth it?”
“Was what worth it?” he asked, genuinely confused.
“Making me wait, was it worth it?”
“Did she fuck you good?” she asked pointedly. She let him slip from her embrace and stood in front to him, grasping his semi-erect penis under the water. “Did my sister take good care of my big dick for me?” Kristen was staring at him with a cold look of calculation.
“Yes, she took very good care of it.”
His sister-in-law’s eyes reflected millions of stars overhead as tiny pin pricks of light as she stared at him intently. “Did she suck your cock?” Her hand was sliding gently along the lengthening shaft as she interrogated him.
“Did she let you cum in her mouth?” Her grip was tight around his now fully erect penis.
“No, I uh, didn’t cum in her mouth.” he told her.
“Tsk tsk, naughty girl. I’ll have to have a talk with her.”
“I’ve been giving your wife some ‘sex education’. You know, since I’m the whorish one and all.” she said with a wink.
“Yeah she mentioned that a while back. I guess she’s been listening. Tonight she…” Her finger across his lips stopped him in mid-sentence.
“Not now. You can tell me all the dirty details another time. Right now I want you to eat my pussy,” she instructed.
Kevin gladly obliged, lifting her up and setting her on the edge of the pool deck. The soft moon light glistened on the wet folds of her pussy as she lay back on the deck and spread her legs. The skin was smooth, without the slightest trace of hair, and he noticed that her lips were fuller and darker; protruding further from the cleft of her vagina than they had the first time he had the pleasure of seeing them. It was another of the physical effects brought on by her pregnant state that he immediately fell in love with. He dove in with gusto, sliding his tongue up and down her lips to taste the sweetness of her. Her body responded, opening up like a rose to reveal the soft pink petals of her vagina.
“Mmm that’s nice.”
His tongue dipped further, pushing into the warmth of her canal, while his hands roamed over her body. The wetness of her flooded over his searching tongue and he slurped it down greedily. His mouth found the protruding bud of her clit and clamped down tightly.
“Ahhhh.” Kristen shivered in his grasp. “Yes!”
He sucked hard on the little nub, making her squeal and squirm with pleasure. He felt her fingers slip through his hair and twist themselves into it andshe thrust her hips against his advancing tongue, trying to fuck his face.
“Eat that pussy baby! Oh don’t stop! I’ve been playing with it all night, thinking about you. When you -OH YES! When you stopped texting me I knew you were going to fuck her. I played with my pussy while I pictured your fat cock sliding into her pussy, but I wouldn’t let myself cum.
“I wanted to save it all for you. Oh god, I’m going to cum for you!” she called through clenched teeth. Seconds later her thighs clamped around his head, her back arched off of the cool pavers of the pool deck and his mouth was inundated with her milky wetness. He slurped up the sticky flood while she writhed about with one hand pressed to her mouth to stifle her moans and the other still gripping his hair tightly. When he finally pulled his head from between her thighs Kristen sat up slowly, breathing heavily and wiped a stream of her juice from the corner of his mouth.
“You love the taste of my pussy don’t you, you dirty boy?” she teased, licking her finger slowly.
“You know I do.”
“Good. Don’t wash your face tonight. I want to still smell my pussy on it when you wake up in the morning.” She quickly stood and strutted back to the house without another word. All he could do was stare at those beautiful hips swaying back and forth. When she was gone he looked down to his throbbing penis jutting into the pool water and sighed.
Kevin awoke Friday morning to the blaring of his alarm clock bright and early at seven thirty. The bed beside him was empty, and not recently judging by the coolness of the sheets. He checked his calendar on his phone and saw that his day was mostly clear, so he shot off a quick email to his assistant letting her know he wouldn’t be in and collapsed back into oblivion.
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Everything you’re about to read is my own true story, which occurred in 1994 when I was in my late 20′s.
My name is Fleur and I was lucky enough to be naturally pretty with large breasts, size 38-DD, which looked out of place against my relatively small frame- I’m five foot six and 125 pounds. When I started dying my hair blonde people started saying I looked like Anna Nicole Smith when she was a reasonably thin Playboy model. I never had a problem getting dates in high school and college, but I was raised in a Catholic home and was determined to wait until my wedding night to surrender my virginity. After graduating from a state university I met Michael and fell in love with him. He was cute, smart, fun to be with, and most importantly his faith dictated that he too would remain a virgin until he got married.
So on my wedding night we did it, and I was left wondering what all the fuss was about. It was fine and I’d be happy to keep doing it as part of my duty as Michael’s spouse, but I wasn’t anxious for Round Two.
About two years after our marriage Michael found a great job in Manchester, New Hampshire and we bought a condo in the city. One day while at the pool Michael made friends with a man named Dante, who I first met when Michael invited him over to watch a baseball game. Dante was a really attractive guy in his early 20′s, maybe five years younger than Michael and I, and one couldn’t help but notice how attractive he was. Dante was six foot two and about 200 pounds with a lean muscle mass. Facially he looked a lot like Tom Cruise (who I was always crazy about). Despite this, I would never even dream of cheating on my husband but as time went on I started finding Dante more and more attractive. This reached the point where I found myself fantasizing about him. After a while whenever I saw Dante I would give him a hug whenever we said hello or goodbye, and I looked forward to those hugs as they would practically make me melt.
Dante had a girlfriend named Susan, and pretty soon the four of us were frequently hanging out together. The size differential between the two of them was notable, as she was a foot shorter than him and couldn’t have weighed more than 100 pounds. One could easily tell that Susan was completely smitten with Dante, and it’s not too much of an exaggeration to say that she waited on him hand and foot. For example, even though they didn’t live together Susan came over two or three times a week to make Dante dinner and to clean his condo.
As time went on Dante and I would flirt with one another, sometimes right in front of Michael, Susan, or both. It was completely harmless and to be honest, both Dante and I were the dominant personalities in our relationships. Then one night the four of us went out to a nightclub and I had a too much to drink. I asked Susan if it was OK if I danced with Dante, and when we were on the floor and away from our partners I pulled Dante close to me and started rubbing my breasts against his chest. Dante was taken aback, and even moreso when I told him to think about that later when he was screwing Susan, who I cruelly referred to as a “charter member of the itty-bitty titty committee”, since Susan was so small-chested. Then when I gave Dante a closer-than-usual hug goodbye, an involuntary gasp left my body and I’m sure both Michael and Susan noticed. By the time Michael and I got home I was hornier than I’d ever been in my life, but instead of jumping all over my husband I went into the bathroom and masturbated furiously while fantasizing about Dante fucking me.
By the next day I’d realized that my feelings for Dante were beginning to careen out of control. I asked myself if I’d ever sleep with him if the opportunity arose, and the answer was “probably not” when it should have been “absolutely not”. I vowed to make it a point not to put myself in a situation where temptation could take over, as I didn’t want to be the kind of woman that would cheat on her husband.
Things cooled off between Dante and I for a few weeks, while Michael and I prepared to take a vacation in Maine. We rented a three bedroom beach house for a week and invited all of our friends to join us. Unfortunately it rained almost all week and no one ventured north to join us. I quickly became bored with the beach and a house with nothing more entertaining than a television that didn’t even have cable. We had the place until Sunday and we both had to return to work on Monday morning. I asked Michael if we could just leave on Saturday and spend the weekend relaxing at home before returning to work on Monday. He didn’t want to, but in the end I insisted.
That was until Dante showed up on Friday night, with Susan conspicuously absent.
The three of us spent the night hanging out in the living room, talking and drinking frozen Pina Coladas. Once again I got a bit tipsy, and while giving Dante a hug goodnight I grazed one of my hands over his ass. I went to bed with Michael but got up about fifteen minutes later to watch TV in the living room, all while hoping that Dante would come out and join me. He didn’t, and I found myself tempted to go into the bedroom he was sleeping in, say hello, and see what happened next. Instead I settled for another masturbating session in the bathroom, and a sense of guilt that settled in the next morning.
For the trip I’d brought a black bikini that was pretty revealing, but all week I’d stuck to a more conservative one-piece bathing suit. In a textbook case of bargaining and rationalizing, I’d decided that while I wasn’t going to cheat on my husband, I definitely wanted Dante to notice me, and to find me attractive and desirable. That would be enough to keep me happy, and I picked our day at the beach with Dante to wear my black bikini.
I’d never seen Dante without a shirt on before, but in a beach setting I’d finally get my chance. Dante did not disappoint, with a muscular chest and arms and a tight, flat stomach. As I peered through my sunglasses as to not make it obvious that I was staring, I attempted to memorize the image before me, with plans of spending several nights masturbating to it.
Then I did something I’ve never done before- I lowed my stare and tried to get a look at how big Dante’s penis was. He was wearing a pair of baggy beach shorts, but it definitely looked like he was packing something bigger than average in them. As I looked up at my husband, who wasn’t muscular and was developing a bit of a gut, I felt a tinge of distain.
The three of us wrapped up our day on the ocean, showered and went out to lunch. It was at the restaurant that Michael made an incredible suggestion- that Dante drive me home with him that afternoon while Michael enjoyed one more day at the beach. I said that Dante didn’t have to go through the trouble, but he said there was no trouble since he was driving home anyway and we lived in the same building.
But I knew there would be trouble we drove me home together! This was the exact sort of situation I knew I needed to stay away from. I practically begged for them to forget about the idea, but neither of them were budging. Michael insisted that I take the extra day that I had been asking for, and Dante was intent on driving me home. As I packed up my things I was feeling an odd pairing of dread and anticipation. I kept telling myself to promise not to do anything with Dante, but in the end I just couldn’t make that promise.
Dante and I got in his car and settled in for the ride home, which figured to be a little over an hour. My emotions were tumbling around in my head, as part of me was screaming not to be at all flirty during this trip, while part of me still desperately wanted this man’s attention.
If Dante was interested in me at all, he definitely did a good job hiding it. We chatted lightly while he focused on the road, not even laying an eye on me the entire time. I was starting to feel completely rejected and turned toward him in my seat, inching as close to him as I could be without making contact. But he didn’t seem to even notice. Finally he asked if it was OK to pull over and grab a soda at an upcoming rest area, which I was fine with.
As we walked toward the store…I don’t even know how it happened, but suddenly we were walking arm-in-arm. I rationalized that it wasn’t anything over the top, just a friend escorting his best friend’s wife around. Then after Dante bought the sodas I gently put my hand on his back while quietly telling him something, and we wound up walking back to the car with our arms around one another’s shoulders. He opened the car door for me, and as soon as we both got in we leaned into each other, drawn together as if we were magnets, and began kissing. And this guy was an awesome kisser.
As our tongues rolled around in each other’s mouths a voice inside of me was screaming Stop it! STOP IT!!! What you’re doing isn’t right! But I couldn’t help myself. I grabbed the back of Dante’s head, continuing to kiss him as passionately as I could, knowingly betraying my husband.
Then Dante suddenly pulled away and said we’d better get going. I felt completely weird as we drove away. Did I have the willpower to stop, or were we going to go even further down a dangerous path once we arrived home in a half-hour?
Part Two will be posted soon. Please leave feedback!
Thanks for all the feedback on the previous story; it definitely gave me the motivation to write another.
The puff of smoke was a cliche. It was a metaphor. I just couldn’t remember which one. My eyes focused on the last puff of smoke I had exhaled from my cigar. It hung in the air heavily in front of me, capturing the focus of my retinas; the background an animated blur. The bourbon and the beer rendered my attention compromised. I squinted my eyes, trying to bring the image into focus, but I couldn’t. I could only see the smoke. The blur? It was my wife rocking back and forth between two of my friends, pleasuring the three of them in a way neither had known before. My mind reeled as I took stock of the situation; how did we get here?
Once a month, for years now, I get together with some guys to play poker. It’s your typical poker night with the boys. No one bets so much money that people leave pissed off, but the bets are high enough to keep things interesting. Arrangements have gotten more complicated over the years, but everyone makes sure their wife or girlfriend is out for the evening and we are free to swear, fart, drink, talk, and most importantly, play poker.
My wife, Anne, has mixed emotions about the game. I always think she’ll be happy to have the house to herself on a Saturday — to forget about me for an evening and let loose, but that is never quite the case. She misses me. It’s really cute and speaks volumes about just how much I mean to her, which I love, but I still need a night with the boys. It was my turn to host the game, making it harder for her to stay away.
She gets along well with Dan’s wife, so the two of them planned to go out and have a margarita while the guys came to our house for poker. I cleaned up the basement a little, pushing old boxes back into the storeroom, making sure it didn’t smell too bad. It was February so it was too cold to play out on the deck, and Anne doesn’t care for cigar smoke in the house. The basement was the perfect venue. It was cement floor, block wall, dirty, dark, and dank. And even better? I stuck an exhaust fan in a window that would blow the smoke out of the room. I had just what we needed: A card table, five chairs, cable TV in the corner playing ESPN and enough stogies, beer, Bourbon and snacks to keep us going as late as we wanted. It was a man cave, and we were men.
By nine o’clock everyone had showed up; Dan, Joe, Chris, and Darren. The perfect card crew. It’s tough to get the right group of guys for a poker game, usually there is the odd brother-in-law or the guy from work that you invite but wish had turned you down. Not in this group –just guys who know all the jokes before you tell them and laugh anyway. Light beer? Try again. Cheap bourbon? Not on your life. Nickel bets? Nada. No one gets bent out of shape if the money doesn’t add up, it never does, because we drink like fish.
Cards are flying, the music is getting louder, and the stories are even more ridiculous than last time. We’re all on our 5th beer, 3rd Bourbon and 2nd cigar. Every good poker night has a window of time when it feels like a runner at peak efficiency; every part in perfect harmony, moving together as one, striding towards a common goal, and that window was now. Right up until a pair of perfect legs begins to slowly descend the stairs.
I’m the first to see them. I know those legs anywhere, I see them every day, and yet they still make my heart beat just a little faster. I’m not sure who follows my gaze first, but one-by-one, everyone else turns to watch a pair of toned, athletic, bare legs make their way down the stairs. My wife, the runner, pushes herself hard on the hilly trails by our house so when she wears a skirt, every male (and sometimes female) head turns. As Anne descends the stairs her head eventually comes into view and she realizes we are all staring. She was hoping for that.
“Are you boys having a good time?” she asks playfully.
“Hell yeah!” Dan says with enthusiastically drunk gusto
“Good,” Anne replies genuinely, “I just got home and thought I would come down to see if you boys need anything.”
I don’t know if it was just me, but I swear there was suggestion as she said the word “anything.”
Joe and Chris tried to look at me nonchalantly, but I wouldn’t return their glance.
“Nah, we’re fine.” Darren said trying to be polite to the host’s wife. As a veteran poker night player, he knows the value of keeping the wife happy. A happy wife doesn’t always equal a good game of poker, but an unhappy one usually spells trouble.
I suspected Anne was hoping to get more involved.
“Honey, I bet everyone would love another round, they are just too polite to impose.”
“Impose?” Anne said incredulously, “I would love to serve your friends!”
I hadn’t misread her enthusiasm.
She made it a point to go around the table and ask each guy, with a hand on his shoulder, “And what can I get for you, Sir?”
Her skirt was fun. What’s “fun?” Its somewhere between flirty and playful. It’s loose with ruffles, colorful, and as a guy you just hope for that perfect gust of wind because you desperately want to find out what kind of panties, if any, she is wearing.
When Anne made her way around to me, I place my hand on her ass, making sure everyone could see, and told her to “guess.”
“Bourbon?” She asked.
“With four ice cubes.” I said authoritatively.
“You know I wouldn’t mess up your drink.”
She is a saint. I know everyone saw me touch her and I wondered what went through their minds. I watched her walk away, so did everyone else, loving her ass swaying back and forth just a little more than necessary.
When she returned a few minutes later, I eyed her blouse. I couldn’t remember how many buttons she had undone when she left, but I swear it was open further than before. I could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra, everyone could tell. She has small but firm breasts with nipples that love to poke out. She slowly sauntered around the room, fully aware of the attention she was receiving — the card game had slowed significantly. “Who had the other bourbon?” Anne asked.
“That’s me.” said Dan.
“You know I can’t resist a man who likes his bourbon” she said with a playful note in her voice. She looked at me when she said this, and I couldn’t help but smile.
This past summer, one of our favorite fantasies became a reality when Anne took Chris and Joe at the same time at our pool, fucking them both wildly before letting me have my way with her. Since then we had cooled down a little with extra-marital adventures, choosing instead to rehash the experience often while having sex, each of us telling the other what they saw and felt to excite us as we made love. We even talked about wilder fantasies, with more guys, and sometimes girls, but hadn’t had the opportunity to try them out in real life. I could tell Anne was thinking about some of those fantasies right now.
She leaned over Dan, putting his glass on the far side of the table so she could bend over and show half the table her cleavage. Her tits pushed up out of her shirt, inviting all eyes at the table to try and look down her blouse.
“Whose deal?” I asked, bringing everyone back to reality while making sure I still had control of the situation.
I could tell Anne pouted just a little as the attention turned away from her and back towards our game. Just to see what would happen, I opened my mouth again; “Anne, why don’t you get some more pretzels for us.. you can even feed the winner of this hand a few as a little extra prize.”
“Oh! Fun!” she said as she scampered back up the stairs.
I could tell the fact that getting pretzels fed to them wasn’t exactly a show stopper as the hand progressed as any other might.. I tried to bluff my way to victory (or maybe I just wanted to lose) but was bested by Joe. Anne was right on cue, walking back down the stairs, still in heels (god bless her) and I swear her skirt was an extra inch shorter.
“Joe is the big winner; make sure you take care of him.” I said.
“I hope you like pretzels, Joe!” Anne said.
After Joe had stuck his cock in my wife only a few months ago, I made him swear he’d keep it quiet. I wouldn’t have let him if I didn’t think he knew when to keep his mouth shut. This was the first time the two had any kind of sexual contact since then. I could tell there was sexual tension between the two of them. Anne happily slid into his lap, even wiggling her ass a little as she did, while Joe tried to act like nothing was out of the ordinary.
I began dealing more cards as Anne slipped another pretzel in Joe’s mouth. I couldn’t quite see but I would have bet another five bucks his hand found its way up to her leg or her ass. I tried to focus on dealing cards as I realized the thought of Joe’s hand on my wife was starting to give me a hard-on. Then I wondered if I was the only one with the same problem.
“What does the winner of this hand get?” Anne asked, a little too enthusiastically.
“Money.” I said stoically, pretending to be annoyed at her enthusiasm. Anne made a face at me. I knew she was excited.
“Maybe the winner of this hand gets to take a shot of tequila with you?” I asked.
“Tequila!” Anne said bubbly. Anne loves tequila. We both know how horny it makes her and by suggesting it, she knew I was giving my blessing to let things get a little more… out of control. It didn’t take long; Darren bullied his way into the next pot. “Line em up!” he exclaimed enthusiastically.
Anne bounced off and returned in no time with a bottle of tequila, two shot glasses, a few slices of lime and a shaker of salt. Darren started salting the rim of the shot glass till Anne scolded him. “That’s not how you do it!”
Darren looked confused. Anne licked his neck. Everyone’s eyebrows raised and a few glances were cast my way. “How else is the salt gonna stick?” she asked playfully, explaining to the crowd why licking my friend was necessary.
Then she took salt shaker and salted the area of my friend’s neck she had just licked. “Your turn!” She commanded.
Darren didn’t need told twice. He took just a little longer drawing his tongue over the oh-so-slightly-lower-than-the-neck area of my wife.
After they filled their glasses Anne shouted “my first!” slowly licked the salted area of Darren’s neck, tossed back her shot and quickly bit down on a lime slice to rid her of the acrid taste of cheap tequila. The crowd went wild.
Now it was Darren’s turn. He plunged his mouth forward on to Ann’s neck, Anne made it a point to moan softly for him as his lips and tongue cleaned the salt from her skin. The he casually tossed back his shot and made it obvious he didn’t need any lime or other type of chaser.
“Next hand!” Anne shouted excitedly.
“Winner gets to do a body shot off of Anne,” I said as Joe started dealing the cards. The hand was rushed and Joe raked in a pot that everyone, despite bad cards, stayed in till the end. Anne flopped on the table in front of Joe, her head towards the middle and her legs on either side of him. Anne hates panties and I was betting that from the way Joe looked between her legs he got an eyeful of shaved, bare pussy. Anne proceeded to unbutton her blouse from the bottom, up so that only one button held it on her now. Her stomach was bare and firm. She reached for the tequila bottle and made a pool on her belly button. Joe dived forward and sucked up all the tequila. Then he licked her stomach liberally making sure to clean it all. Of course the liquor had run a little farther south than her belly button and Anne made it a point to moan as Joe’s mouth made its way closer to her dipping waistline.
After watching that, I was guessing I wasn’t the only one in the room getting warm.
Darren asked the question that was on everyone’s mind. “What does the winner get this time?”
“Anne does the shot of tequila this time, off the winner… wherever she wants.”
I knew where Anne was going to pour the tequila, Anne knew where she was going to pour the tequila; everyone else would just have to wait.
I took a long draw on my cigar as the cards were dealt. I felt a sudden surge of confidence. I picked up my cards and saw the winning hand already. Time to take control. I bet aggressive. No one was going to drop out now, so I figured I may as well take their money. I could tell everyone was a little disappointed that “Anne’s husband” won a hand, I think they were getting hard watching my wife act slutty with other guys. Hell, I was getting horny watching my wife act slutty with other guys. She grabbed the bottle and made her way to me. I stood up, cigar in mouth and said “Suck it, bitch.”
She moaned, getting turned on more and more as I took a commanding attitude. “Yes. Sir”
She dropped to her knees, unzipped my pants, and fished my rock hard cock out.
“Shit, dude.” I heard Darren mumble.
She grabbed my cock in her left hand, pointing it down towards her mouth just a little, stuck out her tongue, resting it just under the head and then poured tequila on it so it mostly ran down into her mouth. “Yeah!” the roar went up from the gallery.
She didn’t pour a lot, but after she stopped she just sucked the head of my cock into her mouth. I grabbed the back of her head and shoved it the rest of the way onto my dick. Anne makes a wonderful gagging noise, just for me, when I hit the back of her throat. I jammed her head down on my dick a few more times in a little show for the guys, who were loving it. When I let go, Anne didn’t slow down one bit, showing everyone how much she likes taking it all into her throat.
Then she slowly slipped my cock back out of her mouth, making a terrific little popping noise as my head escaped her lips.
“MORE!” she demanded.
This time I told everyone the winner would be sucking Anne’s nipples during the following hand. I asked Anne if she would be so kind as to show everyone the goods for a little extra motivation. As the cards were dealt, Anne unbuttoned her last button letting her shirt slide down her arms and exposing her rock hard nipples.
“Shit, you could cut glass with those things!” Darren said.
“Hopefully you can feel them with your tongue for me.” She said at Darren making sure everyone knew how much she was looking forward to this.
Chris won and Anne practically tackled him as she climbed into his lap. I’m sure he could see her pussy from the way her skirt was hiking up around her waist. As soon as his lips hit her nipples, she started moaning.
“mmmmm… bite them for my Chrissy!” she pleaded. Between the alcohol and the attention, Anne was starting to get unmanageable. “Next hand gets a blow job!” she said excitedly.
The cards were dealt hastily. Chris tried hard to pay attention, but with Anne feverishly demanding his focus, it was difficult to play while going back and forth between Anne’s tits and peaking around her to see what was still happening on the table.
I had the winning hand, but folded early. I was really excited to watch Anne suck one of my friend’s cocks. Dan finally won a hand. He looked a little unsure of letting his wife’s friend suck his dick. Anne jumped off of Chris and got on her knees in front of him. “Pull it out, big boy. Let’s see whatcha got!”
When Dan balked, Anne reassured him, “Don’t worry, we’ll make it up to Diane soon enough” and winked at him. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but made no move to stop her as she attacked him. When Anne sucked tequila off my dick, she was content to pull my cock through my fly. With Dan she pulled his pants and boxers down to his ankles, making him stand up for better access, and I’m sure a better show for her rapt spectators.
She grabbed Dan’s cock in one hand, and pumped a few times making sure he was at full attention. Then, instead of going for his shaft, she went straight for his balls. As soon as she sucked one of them in her mouth she moaned heavily, sending the vibrations into Dan. Dan gasped a little, much to the delight of the crowd. She then repeated the same trick on his other ball before sucking them both into her mouth. After a minute it was time to move on to… bigger… things. In one slow, smooth motion, she licked from behind his balls, across his sack, and up the base of his shaft. When her tongue got to the head of his dick, she lurched forward swallowing as much of Dan as possible. Dan’s knees buckled a little.
“Aw, do you need to sit down sweetie?” She asked sweetly. Dan didn’t quite respond, but he didn’t quite stay silent either. He just made a helpless noise as he fell back into his seat. Anne, god bless her, didn’t lose contact with his dick the whole time. She stood up and bent at the waist, now topless, giving everyone a great side view of her trim figure.
“Shit. What does the next guy win?” Darren asked hoping for at least the same treatment.
Anne, for only a brief moment, pulled her mouth off the dick in front of her and said. “Fuck poker! Fuck me instead!” and pulled down her skirt before diving back, face first, onto Dan’s dick.
Darren, dumbfounded looked over at me. Leaning back in my chair, casual, calm, and collected, I took one more puff of my cigar, nodded toward Anne and said “I think she meant you.”
“Shit. You sure Jake?”
“Better hurry before I change my mind.” I said smiling.
I’ve never seen a grown man drop his pants that fast. I’m not sure they made it off his feet before he got his hands on Anne’s hips. As he touched her, Anne didn’t even take a look back, she just moaned loudly in anticipation of what was about to come.
Darren got his dick in her, tentatively at first. I saw Anne bucking her hips back at him, trying to get him to thrust harder. He still wasn’t getting it. Anne finally let Dan’s dick slip from her mouth so she could turn and say.
“What are you, a virgin? Use that thing like you got a pair and fuck me like you mean it, you pussy!” A roar went up from the gallery
Feeling rebuked and a little embarrassed Darren began fucking in earnest, not only horny now, but angry too. His paced picked up and he was literally thrashing now. Anne started screaming onto Dan’s dick which only came out as a loud squeal to the rest of us. It was too much for Dan.
“Oh god,” he said raggedly. The rest of us knew what was happening.
It was about this time that I felt the bourbon, the cigars, the beer, and now the adrenaline too wash over me. For a moment, my eyes lost focus and my mind wandered. I blinked a couple times and it all rushed back into reality, just in time to see the first of long series of orgasms
When the first squirt of cum hit Anne’s mouth, she lost it. Trapped between two cocks, waves of orgasm visibly washed over her as she convulsed. She tried to hold onto Dan’s cum but between Darren slamming into her pussy and her own orgasm washing over her, she couldn’t hold onto all of it and spilled out of her mouth back on to Dan’s cock and balls.
As her orgasm subsided she calmed down and was able to regain control. Darren had been fucking her hard and fast and wasn’t able to keep up the pace. As he slowed down Anne took the opportunity to lick and suck up the loose cum – Dan was in heaven. After she felt like she got it all, she raised her head up and looked Dan right in the eye before opening her mouth and displaying her trophy. Dan looked back both dazed and confused.
“She wants you to give her permission to swallow.” It wasn’t my voice but Joe’s that broke the silence. I smiled remembering the incident earlier this summer at the pool.
Dan, still confused, mumbled, “Ok…”
Anne make a good showing of taking a big gulp and letting Dan’s cum slide down into her stomach. “mmmm… you taste amazing”
“Are you done playing around, little girl?” Darren asked, now getting impatient.
He knelt between my spread thighs as I lay naked on my back. His hard cock jutted from his taut muscular body and my hungry eyes devoured his glistening flesh as he fisted his long, thick dick and looked down at me with an amused expression on his chiseled face.
“Do you want it?” He teased as he rubbed the slick wet head of his cock against my taint making me moan softly with wanton desire. I had never been with a man before. I had never considered it an option before that night but as I looked at his hard muscular body I wanted him inside me as much as I had ever wanted anything. It was an exciting yet frightening idea for me. I was at heart a family man. I was married with children and I had always considered myself straight but something had clicked when I first saw him at the bar several hours earlier. I wasn’t physically attracted to him but I was sexually drawn to him in a way that was raw, primal and animalistic.
He first looked at me as I sat beside my wife drinking a beer. Our eyes met briefly and he smiled before I nervously looked away. I could feel his eyes on me and looked over again. He made and held eye contact and I felt my heart race. I had never flirted with another man before and I knew I was playing a dangerous game but it was strangely exciting and I liked knowing that someone, anyone, was interested in me. At 43 I was not young anymore and the once common appreciative glances from women had slowed to near nonexistence in recent years despite the fact that I kept myself in good shape.
My wife Carole excused herself to go to the ladies room and I watched her walk slowly away. Her sexy round ass swayed enticingly as she walked and I felt a surge of lust fueled desire as I gazed at her gorgeous butt. At 42 she could pass for her mid 30s and she never failed to get looks from much younger men whenever we went out. Strangely it was me getting attention from a younger man. I glanced at my admirer and our eyes met again. I wasn’t gay and I had never been attracted to another man but there was no mistaking the fact that he was a good looking guy with an attractive face and an athletic, muscular body. He looked to be in his mid twenties with sharp features and piercing blue eyes that bore into me.
I averted my eyes and looked up at the television which hung from the wall in front of me but I could feel his eyes on me and I was quickly drawn back into the dangerous game we’d been playing. He smiled and I returned it, feeling a wicked thrill as I did. I was flirting back and it excited me more than I imagined possible.
Carole returned from the ladies room and sat down beside me bringing me back to reality.
“My turn,” I told her as I stood up.
I felt a flutter of excitement as I turned toward him and smiled. I had already had a few beers and needed to pee so I walked toward both him and the bathroom.
His eyes were trained on me as I approached and he flashed a dazzling white smile sending shivers down my spine as I passed. I returned his smile and looked away bashfully as butterflies battled in my stomach. I had never been hit on by a guy before and I was surprised at what a rush it was.
I heard him stand as I passed and my heart raced as I considered what might happen if he followed me into the men’s room. The bar had two men’s rooms. The main one near the front door and a little used tertiary one next to the entrance to the kitchen that I chose. I didn’t know for sure if he was following me but I could sense his eyes on me as I made my way down the secluded hall to the small bathroom.
I was standing at the urinal when he entered the room. We were alone in the small room but he didn’t speak. He stood at the sink busying himself until I finished and then smiled in the mirror at me as I walked to the basin beside him. My heart pounded relentlessly in my chest. It was a thrill unlike anything I had felt and I returned his smile nervously as I became hypnotized by his deep blue eyes.
He turned to face me and a lump formed in my throat. I had an overwhelming desire to run but I stood transfixed and looked into his eyes as I waited for his next move.
“Does she know,” he asked as he glanced at the ring on my finger. He reached out and touched my hand lightly and then traced his finger up my arm making me shudder.
“Know what,” I stammered and he smiled knowingly as he moved closer. My heart thumped in my chest and beads of perspiration formed quickly on my forehead. My mouth was dry as I stared at him and watched him slowly cover the short distance between us.
I stepped backward, retreating slowly until my back touched the cool tile wall beside the bathroom door. He was achingly close and my body trembled from the proximity.
“So you’ve never?” He asked as he continued to inch toward me. He was inches away and I could feel his hot breath on my neck. He was shorter than me but wider and more muscular and I knew he could take me if he wanted to. I hadn’t noticed how powerful his body was before. I had only noticed his face and his piercing blue eyes. He was just under 6′ tall with the big strong arms and broad muscular chest of an avid weight lifter.
“No,” I said softly. I struggled to speak with my mouth dry from nerves and my voice was barely a whisper.
He reached beside us and locked the door as he moved closer until our bodies touched. “But you want to,” he said confidently. His hands moved to my sides and slid under my shirt as he pinned me against the wall. His hands felt hot on my bare flesh and I had to stifle a moan. I could feel his cock, hard and ready, press against my thigh through his pants.
I nodded slowly, unable to speak from the combination of fear and desire.
His hands pushed my shirt up and massaged my chest as he ground his hard dick against my leg. My groin tingled as blood rushed to fill my dick. I closed my eyes and surrendered to thoughts and feelings I had never imagined. His lips brushed across my neck and I moaned softly as he trailed kisses up the sensitive skin to my ear. “Say it,” he whispered. “Tell me you want to get fucked.”
I shook my head and whispered “no.” My mind was reeling and my body was on fire. I didn’t know what I wanted but I was as turned on as I had ever been with anyone.
“Don’t lie,” he said sternly as his hand grabbed my rigid cock through my pants. He squeezed it hard and I groaned with white hot desire. “Your lips say ‘no’ but your hard throbbing cock says ‘yes yes yes’.”
He grabbed my thick brown hair with his left hand and pulled my head toward his mouth hard as his hand continued to squeeze and stroke my dick through my pants. His lips met mine and he kissed me deeply and aggressively. His tongue plunged into my mouth. I was surprised at how soft his lips were and I opened my mouth and accepted his tongue inside it.
“Say it,” He commanded as he pushed me to my knees and pulled his cock out of his pants. I stared with my mouth agape at his hard throbbing cock. It was long and thick with a maze of veins and ridges adorning the shaft and a bulbous purple head that glistened with clear precum. I had never seen another mans penis. I had never thought that I would but as I stared at it just inches from my face I had an overwhelming desire to touch it, to lick it, to suck it.
“Yes,” I groaned wantonly, admitting that I wanted his cock inside me. I reached out and grasped his hard cock with both trembling hands. It was alive and hot to the touch. The soft silky skin juxtaposed with the hard granite was incredible. I wanted more. My mouth watered as I opened it wide and slowly approached his cock. My tongue slipped from my mouth and I saw a small clear drop of viscous fluid. It looked delicious.
“Suck it bitch,” he ordered sternly as he grabbed my head and held it firmly.
I licked the precum from the head. It was salty but it didn’t taste bad. I liked it and I wanted more. I wrapped my lips around his thick cock and slowly bobbed my head taking him deeper with each stroke.
He let out a low guttural moan that gave me all the encouragement I needed. I grabbed his firm muscular ass and forced his entire rod down my throat until my nose pressed tightly against the neatly trimmed patch of fur on his pelvis.
He grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled me back to my feet. I felt empty and hollow when his thick cock popped out of my still sucking mouth but I could still taste the salty essence of him. I wrapped my fist around his throbbing shaft and slowly stroked it. My mind was reeling with confusion and raw desire.
“Pull down your pants,” he said firmly. It wasn’t an order but it wasn’t a request and I quickly dropped them to the floor.
He turned me around and spat on his hand. He wiped saliva across my tight virgin ass and I moaned softly. I had never had anyone play with my ass and I was surprised at how good it felt.
“Tell me what you want,” he commanded loudly. I knew anyone outside the door could hear him but I was beyond rational thought.
“I want you to fuck me,” I replied honestly.
He bent me over and pushed one thick finger inside my ass. It felt wicked and hot. I wanted more. His finger slid deep inside me and he wiggled it slowly stroking my prostate. I had never felt anything like it and I knew I would not last long if he kept it up.
“Do you want more?” He teased.
“Yes, please give me more,” I responded breathlessly. He pushed a second finger inside me. It stretched my ass but didn’t hurt and he pumped his two fingers into my ass hard and fast making me pant like a tired dog.
“Now what do you want?” He chided as he fingered my ass with one hand and stroked his big delicious cock with the other.
“I want your cock inside me,” I moaned loudly. My body was tingling. My mind was spinning. My cock was throbbing. “Please fuck me.”
He pulled his fingers from my ass and grabbed my hair pulling me up beside him. He pressed his lips against mine again and kissed me hard. His hard dick thrust between my thighs and mine pressed hard against his taut rippled stomach.
“Pull your pants up and go get your wife,” he said loudly, “and meet me at the front door.” He pushed me away and stuffed his stiff prick into his pants as he unlocked the door. He smiled brightly. He was enjoying the control he had over me and I was enjoying it too. I had always had a submissive side and he had picked up on my desire to be pushed, controlled and even humiliated.
“Yes,” I hissed loudly. I scrambled to pull my pants up as he walked from the room in ab obvious hurry.
I walked back to the bar in a daze. My head was spinning and I was focused on one thing, his big delicious cock.
“What took you so long?” Carole asked.
I stammered that I ran into an old friend from college and quickly suggested we go because he was waiting at the door. Carole was confused but she followed me to the door of the bar.
“I’m Kevin,” he said to my wife. “Your husband wants to show you something. We’ll take my car.”
We followed him to his car, a late model E Class Mercedes, and Carole asked, “what’s this about?” I didn’t know how to respond so I just shrugged and got into the passenger seat as she climbed in back. Ten minutes later we pulled in front of a large brownstone in a wealthy part of the city.
Kevin led us inside and Carole grabbed my hand. She held it tightly and I knew she was scared. I squeezed her hand to try and quell her fears but I was honestly as frightened as she. I couldn’t explain the power he, a total stranger, had over me but he clearly touched on a primal desire and I was willing to risk everything to do what he wanted.
Kevin walked up to my wife and whispered in her ear. She nodded slowly and Kevin smiled confidently. Like me, Carole had always been somewhat submissive and Kevin quickly took control. He pulled her away from me and pressed his taut muscular body against her. Their lips met in a soft gentle kiss.
Carole’s eyes closed and she melted against him as he kissed her deeply. Her arms slipped around him and she held him tight, her eyes closed and her breathing ragged.
I felt a pang of jealousy as they kissed. I had never discussed swinging with my wife but it had long been a fantasy of mine. Despite that I was not especially comfortable with her kissing another man even if his cock had been inside my mouth less than an hour earlier.
“You want to watch don’t you Carole?” He said knowingly and my wife nodded slowly. She was still unsure about what was happening but the drinks and her libido were slowly winning the battle with her rational mind.
“Sit in that chair and enjoy,” he told my wife as he turned to me and ordered me to strip my clothes off. His command left no doubt that he was the alpha man and I quickly pulled my shirt off exposing my athletic torso. I dropped my shorts and underwear to the floor and stood naked before him. My hard dick betrayed my excitement and my cheeks flushed with embarrassment and excitement alike as my wife watched me submit to another man.
“Now undress me,” he said firmly. He smiled brightly at the control he brandished as I quickly pulled his clothes off leaving me naked with another nude man in front of my still fully clothed wife.
“Tell your wife what you want,” he said sternly as he gestured toward my pretty wife who sat watching with her mouth agape. Carole had always been a mostly conservative person and I had been frightened about how she would react to seeing me with another man but as I looked at her pretty face I saw excitement and lust mixed with shock that helped ease my concerns.
“Yes sir,” I replied softly before turning to face my sexy wife.
“Baby, I want his cock. I’ve never done anything like this before. I never imagined I would want to but I do. I want him to take me in every way and I want you to watch.” I felt my cheeks flush as the words tumbled out of my mouth. I watched her face for a sign and when she smiled I sighed with relief.
“Now show her what you did in the men’s room,” he said as he pushed me to my knees in front of him.
I reached out and touched his big hard cock as my lips parted. I looked up at him with pleading eyes and he nodded slowly as my mouth approached his throbbing manhood.
His cock felt delicious as it sank deep inside my throat. My hands roamed over his body, caressing his hard chiseled body as my head bobbed on his hard dick.
“Play with my nipples,” he said as he guided my hands up his body to his broad, well defined chest. He moaned softly and I forced his shaft down my throat making his moans louder and more insistent.
Carole watched with wide eyes as I fellated another man. Her hand slipped inside her pants and she idly fingered her wet cunt.
Kevin’s breathing became labored and I sensed he was close to cumming when he grabbed my hair and pulled me to my feet forcefully. He pressed his body against mine, his cock sliding between my thighs and rubbing my heavy nut sack as he kissed me deeply. I returned his kiss and moaned into his mouth as his hips thrust against mine in an erotic display of raw animalistic lust.
I ran my hands up Kevin’s back and ground my cock against his taut stomach as we kissed.
Kevin pushed me back and spun me around in one daft motion. He bent me at the waist over the foot of his bed and spat into his hand. I knew what was coming and I wanted it. I needed it and he knew it. He thrust two fingers into my asshole and pumped them hard into me making me moan and groan with pleasure.
“Tell your wife what you need,” Kevin demanded. He liked humiliating me and he knew I loved it too.
I looked at my sexy wife. She sat in the corner of the room with her pants unfastened and her legs spread wide as she furiously fingered her soaking wet cunt. Her pretty face was filled with an expression of lust and her eyes were glued to mine.
“I love you,” I moaned to her as Kevin rubbed his slick wet dick across my gaping asshole.
“Tell her what you want me to do,” he said loudly. His tone was firm and I quickly responded.
“I want him to fuck me,” I said softly as my cheeks flushed red with humiliation.
Kevin pushed the lubricated head of his thick cock against my asshole and it yielded to him as he slowly sank balls deep inside me. I groaned with pleasure and pain as he stretched me wide. The sensation was incredible. He pulled back slowly until the ridge of his bulbous head rested against the inside of my sphincter. He grabbed my hips and started to fuck me with long steady strokes as my wife looked on.
Carole came hard as she watched him fuck my ass and the room filled with her excited pants and moans. I could smell the scent of her arousal and took my excitement to another level.
Kevin pulled out of my ass and guided me onto my back on the bed. He climbed between my spread legs and rubbed the head of his dick across my asshole as he looked at my excited wife with a confident smirk.
“Do you want it?” He teased as he rubbed the slick wet head of his cock against my taint making me moan softly with wanton desire
“Yes,” I hissed loudly.
“Beg for it,” he teased. He knew I wanted more.
“Please fuck me,” I groaned softly. He smiled and pushed his granite cock back into my depths as he looked into my eyes. I shuddered and moaned as he started to fuck me anew.
“Stroke your dick,” he commanded. He thrust hard and fast into my ass and the room filled with the sound of slapping flesh. My hand was a blur on my cock and I knew I was close to an epic climax. I grunted hard with each powerful thrust of his big cock as waves of pleasure circled outward from my core.
“I’m gonna cum,” I moaned loudly. He held my legs firmly and pounded his dick into my ass.
“Cum for me,” he panted as sweat ran down his face and strong muscular chest.
“Don’t stop,” I pleaded. I was at the point of no return and I cried out loudly as my dick erupted in a massive orgasm. Copious amounts of hot cum spewed onto my stomach as my body twitched and shook from the ferocity of it.
“Where do you want it?” Kevin asked. He continued to pound my asshole hard and fast. He was close and I wanted his seed. I wanted to taste it.
“In my mouth,” I panted.
He pulled his dripping cock from my ass and slid up my body until it was inches from my face. His fist moved quickly over his shaft bringing him to the brink. He pointed his thick dick at my mouth and groaned as he came hard.
I opened my mouth wide and caught as much of his hot, thick cream in my mouth as I could but several globs painted my face and hair. He groaned like a dying animal as he came hard on my face and mouth.
Kevin squeezed the last few drops from his spent cock into my hungry mouth and then climbed off my chest leaving me alone and covered in cum as he went to the bathroom to clean up. Carole watched as I scooped the cold cum from my face with my fingers and licked them clean.
“That was amazing,” she cooed, ” but next time I want to get fucked too.”
Until a couple of years ago my wife, Amy, and I both worked for the police. More specifically, she was with the vice squad and I worked in fraud. So each day we would go in together, team up with our respective partners and do our days work until it was time to go home – same as most jobs, just not your usual employer.
From time to time, if a big bust was going down, we both understood that the other would have to go incognito and may be away for sometimes days and other times weeks until the job was done, so it wasn’t unusual when Amy told me that the Chief had asked her to go undercover to infiltrate an organised crime syndicate and gather enough evidence to bring a prosecution into place.
I knew better than to ask her any details of the investigation, but wasn’t surprised that she’d been selected having proved on many previous jobs that she was the best in the department at this kind of work. One of the reasons for this was that Amy looked stunning and guys that should know better kept falling for her. At 37, she looked ten years younger and had a figure – 35C 26 36 -that should have graced the pages of a glossy magazine rather than being covered in police issue uniform.
After 15 years of marriage she had kept better than I had at 39 and despite the fact that I was still blown away with her looks, we had settled into a fairly mundane routine of work and weekends and were guilty as other married couples of taking each other for granted.
Anyway, Amy went off undercover and I got on with my job, but you know how it is when you get the feeling that things aint right, but can’t put your finger on it. Usually, she’d be able to give me some idea about what she was expected to do, but this time she seemed particularly close lipped about it. I put it down to me misreading the situation, but something kept gnawing away at me – like she was going to have to do something that she knew I wouldn’t like.
I was on a day off when, after eight days, Amy came home – briefly – “Look honey, I can’t stop. I’m right in the middle of this thing and it’s big, but I gotta get me some more clothes seeing as it’s likely that I’ll be gone longer than I thought”.
She looked animated and excited like I hadn’t seen for a long time – and I didn’t get the feeling it was anything to do with seeing me. I watched her as she ran up the stairs and within 5 minutes she was back again, suitcase in hand making for the door.
“Hey, hey!”, I called ” What about a kiss for your old man?” and she darted over, pecked me on the cheek and ran out to the unmarked car parked out front. The speed of her visit and her indifference towards me got me thinking and while I tried to put it down to the pressure of the op they were on, something kept niggling……………………
I went upstairs and started to look around. What had Amy taken with her? I felt guilty as I began checking through her wardrobe, but I’m a cop and know when things aren’t how they should be. As I searched I made a mental inventory of what I knew she had taken and that was when I started to get concerned. Amy didn’t have a lot in the way of sexy lingerie, but every piece of what I would call her better items were missing – lacy panties, low cut bras, hold-up stockings….all gone! I checked her hanging rails and her high heels, cropped shorts, mini skirts, vest tops and sheer, see-through tops were all missing.
My heart was pounding and I could feel the blood pumping through my neck and head fuelled by the suspicion of exactly what sort of mission she was on. Reluctantly, I went over to the wash basket and, having moved all the clothes she had put on top, I found what I had feared – several pairs of Amy’s panties were screwed up and pushed to the bottom.
I picked up the first pair and unscrewed them and saw on the gusset the recognisable stain of dried semen. As I worked my way through her underwear every pair showed the same until I finally got to the last item which was Amy’s favorite g-string. The sides showed evidence of having been ripped off and the gusset was still damp – in fact it was wet and as I put it to my nose I could smell the unmistakeable scent of male spunk in my wife’s underclothes.
I sat down heavily on the edge of the bed and tried to gather my thoughts. What the hell was going on? Now in a normal marriage the husband would challenge the wife on something like this, but in our case Amy was on special ops and I had no idea of knowing when she’d be back. I also knew that I couldn’t go asking around at the department or do anything which could compromise the safety of Amy or any other colleagues involved.
I spent a restless night tossing and turning in our bed and though I tried to push them away I had images of Amy being fucked running through my head. I felt jealous that another man was taking pleasure from my wife’s body and the thoughts of her doing it with someone else and cumming on them, made me hard as I pictured her naked, riding another mans cock.
When I woke up I had formulated a plan to find out what was going on. I knew her log-on ID for the department computer and it didn’t take me long to discover her password written on a slip of paper and tucked behind her police badge which was always left at home on uncover ops.
I went into work as normal and, on the pretext of wanting to do some additional work at home, I signed out a laptop which was set to sign on to the police network when it was fired up.
That evening I set about discovering my wife’s secret. I logged in and checked the schedule which detailed the assignment of each officer in the precinct. Amy was on something called Operation Showdown and what hit me first was the small number of officers assigned. This normally only happened when there was a suspicion that one of our own might be a ‘risk’ through some involvement with the suspect or whatever. Given the nature of the op I would have to be very careful indeed.
I clicked on the Operation Showdown tab and was prompted for Amy’s log-on ID and password – all standard police stuff and the face screen changed to tabs with headings such as Background, Suspects, Evidence, Known Links and so on. As I read the background it became apparent that the principal suspects were four black Americans known to have left LA and relocated to southern Alabama. The IRS had flagged up a suspected huge money laundering operation, believed to be earnings from a prostitution racket with these four guys living the high life, but with no apparent income being recorded.
Having got the drift of the problem I checked the guys out. All four were known to LAPD, but nobody had ever been able to prove that they were living off the proceeds of crime. Potential witnesses had retracted their statements and, in short, the police had never been smart enough to get the evidence required to send them down. I looked at their pics and for all intents and purposes they could have been lawyers or something. Tall, well built, dressed in suits, they looked as respectable as the next man.
When I opened the evidence folder I took a sharp intake of breath. A bank of thumbnail pictures came up, taken from a long distance with a telephoto lens and all showing Amy with these guys. What shocked though, was what she was wearing; Amy had on a tight vest and was obviously braless underneath. Even from a distance her nipples clearly stood out in what I guess was early morning coolness. High heels made her 5’9″ body look even more slender and her legs seemed impossibly long in a short mini skirt.
Amy looked like a slut as she stood holding the arm of one of the men I recognised from his profile as Jerome Jackson. It looked like the surveillance snaps had been taken at 10 second intervals and I watched Amy and the men walk from the front door of a big house to a waiting car. Jerome then held Amy close as she kissed him and I could see his right hand holding her breast as she flattened her body against him.
The next two shots were where I got my lucky break. The photo panned out to take in more of the scene, including the front of the house and the second followed the car down the road ….and I recognised where it was!
More photos captured Amy out at clubs and other private houses, mostly hanging onto the arm of the same guy, but a sequence of five, taken at night through an uncurtained window of the house showed Amy standing, clearly naked, legs apart with her back arched and hips forward and sandwiched between two of the black guys in the other pictures. These had been taken at a closer range and I could see Jerome, the larger of the two men with his hips positioned between my wife’s legs and there was no doubt that Amy was being penetrated by him. The second man stood behind her with his cock nestled between her ass cheeks and her breasts held in his large hands.
The first four shots were all similar, but the fifth showed Jerome standing with his big hands on her ass cheeks as my wife wrapped her legs around his back and her arms round his neck as they kissed. I stared for a long time at this image of my wife fucking a guy with another man, or even men, in the same room. Amy was very prudish when it came to sex and had been angry when I once suggested we visit a naturist beach on vacation…………..
“There’s no way I’m gonna have a load of men I don’t know looking me over. I think it’s disgusting that you’d want other men to see me naked – you’re turning into some kind of pervert!”
I never mentioned it again! She obviously didn’t feel like that now!
I sat there stunned. I mean, I knew that sometimes in Vice the female cops had to dress up as hookers and parade themselves on the streets to lure punters who were then arrested. I knew that playing a role to infiltrate an organisation often included female cops who would have to flirt with suspects and even get into light petting with them, but surely full blown fucking was not expected. Besides, Amy had always said that the idea of fucking a black guy was something she could never do, but what I’d just seen, said otherwise!
That night I dreamt of Amy being fucked. I dreamt of Amy with her legs apart as a thick black cock slid backwards and forwards, in and out of her cunt. I dreamt of Amy cumming as Jerome fucked her standing up in the middle of his living room……….and I was their audience! As I slowly awoke these images remained clear in my mind and I was unable to stop myself from stroking my own hardness to orgasm as the endless tape of Amy fucking Jerome played in my head.
I had to know what was going on or else I’d go mad. I’d recognised the road from a job I’d been on a couple of years before and I could sure find the big house I’d seen in the photo. So that night, as it got dark, I parked about a mile away and started to walk. I soon spotted the police cruiser where the surveillance officer was armed with a camera and positioned myself where I could see both them and the house.
After an hour in the shadows, cars began to arrive at the house and I could see the place getting busy inside through the window where the shots of my wife had been taken. Then, Jerome moved around closing the drapes and the view was shut off – both to me and the cruiser.
I walked across the road and straight through the gateway of the house next door – just as if I lived there, made my way round the back and hopped over the dividing fence, hoping to hell that no lights, or worse, dogs appeared. The back yard remained dark and silent except for the dull beat of music coming from inside the house. I let my eyes get accustomed to the dark and then took a look about. No dogs, no lights, no security system, but there was a low sloping roof leading to an open bedroom window.
I was soon into the house and checked the room out. It didn’t show any sign of being in current use and no light showed around the door. I opened it quietly onto a darkened landing. Music, light and talk came from one end where it appeared to open up into a large galleried area – too risky if someone came upstairs. No. There had to be another way, so I climbed back out onto the sloping roof and crept along to the end and got lucky. There were two, high ventilation windows with a perfect view of the gallery and the room below and no chance of being seen.
The window was slightly open and as I took in the scene the sound drifted up to me.
Amy was easy to spot. She had a long dress on I’d never seen before, made of a white, almost transparent fabric, which scooped down at the back to just above her butt crack and plunged deeply at the front to her navel. She had no bra on and as she walked about I could see her breasts move beneath the thin layer covering them. I guessed she was wearing a string because I couldn’t see the dark triangle of pubic hair at the front.
The was one other girl in the room and she looked about 25, a little shorter than Amy, dark skinned and black hair. She wore the same style dress and it did nothing to disguise the fact that she too was naked, or nearly, underneath.
Every other person in the room was male and black. I counted 42 of them. All smartly dressed and talking politely to the two women.
Amy was more animated than I had seen her in years and at first I thought she was drunk until I realised she didn’t have a glass in her hand. Then it hit me – she was high! I would guess that she’d been given a cocktail of drugs because she looked alert and spaced out at the same time. And she definitely hitting on the men in the room; leaning forwards so her dress fell away and her tits hung free, and standing so close that her pussy would press against a thigh as she talked.
As I watched with a mixture of shock and amazement, the lights were dimmed and the place went quiet.
“Gentlemen. Will you please move away from the centre of the room.” and the crowd parted, revealing a thick, white circular rug, maybe 20feet across.
A low, slow beat began and the centre of the rug was illuminated by 2 spot lights, one of which was directly below my window making it impossible to be seen from the room. I stood up a bit to get a better view as Amy and the girl moved to face each other below me. They swayed and moved in time to the beat and approached each other until they were, hip to hip, breast to breast and their lips locked in a deep kiss.
The men applauded as each girl took hold of the other’s straps and slowly slid their dress off until it fell to the floor at their feet. I had been wrong about my wife wearing a string and I could see how I’d been mistaken. Neither she, nor the girl, had any pubic hair and as they broke their kiss, they took it in turns to lead the other around the room to be admired by the crowd. Then they walked to the edge of the room where Jerome stood and bit by bit they stripped him naked and on their knees, one on each side, began to kiss and lick his cock to erection. It looked about 8 inches long, so not much bigger than mine, but it was half as thick again and solid, jet black. He then lay on the floor with it pointing upwards.
He crooked a finger at Amy, beckoning her until she stood astride his hips with her back to him and lowered herself until the tip of his thick cock was just touching the area between her legs. I watched as she closed her eyes, bit her bottom lip and very, very slowly sank onto Jerome’s black rod. His hands moved up her slim body and grasped her breasts, pulling her back onto him so they lay back facing the ceiling.
I caught my breath at what I saw. Jerome’s cock was buried, full length, in Amy’s ass and he had used his feet against the inside of her ankles to push her legs wide apart so that her shaved cunt was displayed to the watching group. Everything I was seeing was a further shock as my wife had never let me anywhere near her ass and on the couple of times I’d tried she’d left me in no doubt that there was no way that was going to happen. Yet he she was, willingly impaled on Jerome and what’s more, enjoying it.
I heard Jerome say, “Which one of you black studs wants to be the first to fuck this beautiful white cunt?” and then to Amy, he said “You got something’ to tell them Babe?.”
Amy seemed to be looking straight at me as she said,
“I’m a dirty white slut and I want to be fucked by your big, black cocks!”
The men encircling the rug removed their clothes and once they were naked, Jerome slid Amy off his cock and she lay on her back, with her knees drawn up and legs apart as a guy of about 25 knelt between them and drove his cock into her and I heard some very familiar words……
“Mmmmm……that feels sooo good!”, the same words she always used when we made love, but then she added words I hadn’t heard before, “Your cock feels so big…..it’s filling me up,” and I watched as this young stud clenched his buttocks and drove himself into my wife who responded by raising her hips to take him fully into her.
He didn’t last long and with a few rapid thrusts, he emptied his balls into my wife’s willing vagina and moved away. I saw lips of her cunt hang open and cum begin to leak out just before an older, heavier man took his turn with my wife who by now had her head turned to the side sucking and stroking a big black cock.
I realised that this man was bigger than the first as I saw Amy’s eyes widen and she moaned “Oh! OH!”, around the cock in her mouth. This guy was probably mid forties and was taking his time with her, using much longer strokes before burying himself deep inside her cunt, eliciting a grunt from her every time.
By now, Amy had another cock in her free hand and some of the guys were taking their pleasure with the other girl. The man fucking her quickened his pace until he yelled and stabbed his cock deep in and spunked up her. As he got up and moved away, I got a glimpse of his softening cock and realised why my wife had sworn. I’d guess he was at least 9 inches long and that must have reached to her cervix as he pushed right into her.
One by one these black men took their turn being sucked by, or fucking Amy, and as they did I looked at the men who were standing about, waiting for their opportunity and I spotted three with what can only be described as mutant cocks. Now, I know that it isn’t just a myth that black guys have bigger cocks than whites, but these three were truly alpha males when it came to sexuality. All were well over 6feet tall and all were incredible physical specimens – well built, without being over muscled and without an ounce of surplus fat on their bodies. But, what focussed my attention, was their massive cocks. Not one of them was less than 12 inches long, as thick as Amy’s ankle and had a heavy ball sack that hung between their legs. I’d heard of men who’d been described as ‘black bulls’ and now I saw that they really did exist.
They watched as, one after another, more than twenty men fucked my wife and, as each delivered his spunk into her by now red and swollen vagina, the pool of white cum she was lying in, spread.
As if they had been waiting for the right moment, the three of them moved in as a team and pushed aside a man who had been just about to take his turn. Amy looked up and her eyes widened in horror at what she saw. “Oh God! No! I can’t take that. You’ll kill me!”
She closed her legs together, drew her knees up and started to raise herself on her elbows. One of the team quickly dropped onto the rug at her head and grasping a nipple with each hand, pulled her sharply backwards so she was lying back.
“Open your legs, slut!” he commanded, but my wife drew them closer to her body. “I said, open your legs now!” he repeated. Still she ignored him and then he spoke to the other two “Open the slut up for me.”
The two studs each took hold of one of Amy’s ankles and swung her legs back until her feet were either side of her shoulders and her already well fucked cunt, leaking the cum of 23 men, was lewdly displayed to the crowd. Pinned like this she had no way of resisting and the first stud moved around and placed the head of his foot long cock between her labia and slowly began to open her up.
My wife’s note was enough to excite me. The details of her sexual exploits with the maid sent waves of energy through me. Then, to go upstairs and see her and Angelica sexily clad in lingerie, booted heels, and strapped for play was so exhilarating that I could barely resist cumming in my pants.
“Hello, Ladies,” I said from the entry way to our bedroom.
My wife answered, “Shut up and come here.”
I did as I was told. I walked over to them, looking each of them over as I approached. I caught myself starting at their centers, each with a large rubber cock protruding from their hips. I arrived in front of my wife and we kissed long and hard. Our tongues danced back and forth passionately and I felt Angelica’s hands moving over my body. I tingled to her touch and the excitement of my wife’s kiss. I twitched a little when Angelica began rubbing my hard on through my pants.
My wife moved her hands downward and un-tucked my shirt to pull it over my head. Angelica undid my pants and pulled them, along with my boxers, to the floor. I stepped out of the cumbersome clothing and stood naked and vulnerable to them both.
Angelica stayed on her knees and my wife joined her. They stared at my cock for a moment then looked at each other. They locked in a kiss as passionate as the one my wife and I had just shared. Angelica continued to kiss my wife as she reached up and took my cock into her hand. She rubbed her soft hands up and down my shaft. Then she broke her kiss with my wife. They smiled at each other and Angelica grabbed the back of my wife’s head. She guided my wife’s mouth to my cock.
I nearly exploded to the warm wetness of my wife’s mouth. My wife took me full into her throat. Her tongue pressed tightly to the underside of my cock. The sensation was delightful. Then Angelica moved around behind me. She ran her hands up and down my legs, over my ass, and to my lower back. She moved her hands to my ass cheeks and opened me for her access. I felt the firm point of her tongue press hard against my hole, and I nearly came in my wife’s throat. Angelica’s tongue danced tight circles around my hole as my wife continued to suck. Then Angelica reached up around me and held my wife by her hair. My wife’s face held in place and Angelica buried her tongue in my ass. I began rocking back and forth, alternating between fucking my wife’s mouth and my ass with the maid’s tongue. I was so close to cumming that it was hard to stop when Angelica pulled away and let go of my wife’s hair.
Angelica stood up behind me and motioned for my wife to stand as well. She gave a quick order.
“Bed,” Angelica said with a hard slap on my ass.
I moved to the bed and crawled onto the high mattress. I looked over to see my wife rubbing lube all over her rubber cock. My wife then gave her order.
“On all fours.”
I got onto all fours and felt the weight on the mattress shift behind me. My wife had moved in between my legs and was rubbing the tip of her well-lubed rubber extension over my hole. Then Angelica positioned herself in front of me with her toy at my mouth. They both pushed forward simultaneously and I was immediately filled from both ends. My wife pumped into my ass while Angelica began to fuck my face. Each of my wife’s thrusts forced Angelica’s cock deeper into my mouth. I did all I could not to gag at the oral invasion and cum to the anal delight.
I covered Angelica’s dong with my spit before my wife pulled her cock from my ass. I could feel my ass gaping and begging for more. Angelica grabbed the back of my head and began to fuck my mouth feverishly. The back of the dildo was rubbing her clit and she soared into a moaning orgasm.
I heard my wife unbuckle her harness and she moved around next to Angelica. She gave Angelica a quick kiss and Angelica pulled her cock from my mouth. My wife then moved beneath me and were linked up in a “69″ position. She took my cock into her mouth once again and I buried my face into her pussy. My tongue was immediately soaked with her juices.
Angelica moved behind me and slid her slick cock into me. My begging ass was answered with a single, hard thrust. Angelica pounded into me while my wife and I exchanged oral favors. Suddenly, I felt my wife’s pussy clench my tongue. She reached down and grabbed my head. She held me still as she began to grind her clit against my mouth. She came hard against my tongue.
Her orgasm subsided and Angelica slowed her thrusting. Then my wife pulled away and turned over and around. She laid face-down beneath me.
“Fuck me,” she ordered and I eased down into her. My cock had no problem finding her sweet center and sliding into her. Angelica then picked up her thrusts once more. She pounded into me as I pounded into my wife. The sensation became too much to bear. I exploded. I sent stream after stream of thick cum into my wife until I was completely spent.
I collapsed onto my wife’s back and Angelica collapsed onto mine. We lay there panting in ecstasy until I broke the silence.
“Thank you, ladies,” I said exhausted, but grinning.
Angelica answered, “You’re welcome,” with one last hard thrust that sent a shockwave through me and my wife in simultaneous pleasure.