At that point Joe was in as deep as I’d ever been, but since he was a lot bigger around than I was, Rachel had to be feeling really full. She lifted her ass off the bed, frantically humping up to him. He moved in and out of her but held back about three inches of dick until she was on the verge of orgasm. Then he lunged, driving his dick all the way in. She cried out in ecstasy, her climax wracking her body.
At that moment I exploded in the hostess so hard, I thought my dick would explode. My shrinking dick slid out of her, but Joe stayed buried in Rachel. As she caught her breath, I crawled up on the bed and started sucking on her right tit. Then Jill came over and went to work on the other one.
“Oh, that feels so good!” Rachel cried out. She started raising and lowering her hips, humping Joe’s cock. He responded, and this time really pounded it in her. A few minutes later, she pulled my head up and sucked my tongue down her throat.
She groaned, raised my face, looked me in the eyes and said, “Oh honey, it feels so fucking good!” Tears were rolling down her face.
Just then Joe let out a roar. My wife’s eyes glazed over as he shot his load in her. She clutched at him and started coming again. While I didn’t come with her, I felt she had let me be part of that exciting climax.
I moved back as Joe leaned forward and kissed my wife on the mouth. Then he rose with a satisfied smile and said she was the best fuck he had ever had, and he was quite sure all his friends would agree.
I watched in fascination as he slowly pulled his dick, wet with her juices, out of her pussy. I could not believe all the love and pride I was feeling, knowing my wife had totally abandoned herself in public to her sexual cravings. As I stared at her wide-open pussy, I saw Joe’s spunk drip down the crack of her ass to form a wet spot on the sheet.
As she lay there recovering, with her eyes closed and her legs spread wide, a nice-looking brunette stepped up to her and said, “Let me clean you up for my husband, sweetheart” She bent down and started sucking Rachel clean. When she finished, her husband turned my wife over on her stomach and fucked her doggie-style.
The more she got, the more she seemed to want. I’m not sure how many men fucked her that night, but I loved every minute of it.
Daylight had broken by the time we drove back to our hotel. We invited Joe to sleep with us instead of driving on home. Of course he accepted. We dragged ourselves to the room, stripped off our clothes and crashed on the bed. With Rachel between Joe and me, we were asleep in seconds.
I was dreaming about a procession of dicks going in and out of Rachel’s pussy while my cock felt like it was covered with hundreds of butterflies. As I floated from sleep to consciousness, I realized my wife was sucking my now-hard penis.
Seeing that I was awake, she slid up my body and whispered, “Want to watch me fuck Joe some more?”
I smiled and said, “Who are you, wicked wench, and what have you done with my sweet, innocent wife?”
“I think she got screwed up so her brain’s in her pussy now,” she said, rubbing her crotch on my leg.
Joe was on his back, with one leg stretched out at an angle. Rachel crawled between his legs and used her mouth on his limp dick. She didn’t just suck it, she made love to it. It soon stood tall and proud. I wasn’t sure whether he was awake when she moved up and crouched over his towering pole. Again I was amazed by the size of it—not to mention the fact that Rachel was able to take the entire thing up her pussy.
She held his dick with both hands and rubbed the head all over her cunt. She soon had it shining with her juices. She looked right at me as she slid herself halfway down over the huge rod. Her eyes glazed over, and her body twitched from the thrill of his entry. But she kept her eyes on mine as she paused for a few seconds. The pleasure in them was almost tangible.
In a soft voice she said, “Honey, you like seeing his big dick in my cunt, don’t you? Can you see how full and wet my pussy is?” She began to move up and down on his pylon, taking in a bit more each time and emitting a cry of joy with each down-stroke.
Joe was awake for sure now, and his hands moved up Rachel’s body to her tits. “Damn,” he said, “I must be dead, because this has got to be heaven!” He tweaked her nipples while she drove down on his dick until she had it all in. When she hit bottom, her body exploded.
After she caught her breath, she started screwing again. I lay there watching them fuck in all kinds of positions for about forty-five minutes. I guess Joe could last so long because of all the screwing he’d done the night before. I know my wife loved it, and so did I.
Rachel and I agreed that we really enjoyed living out our fantasies, and we have nothing but good feelings about our experience. Now she often accompanies me when I make my trips to the main office, and we spend a night or two with Joe. We haven’t gone back to the swingers’ club yet, but we probably will soon.
Yes, small-town life has its advantages, but for certain things, there’s nothing like the big city!—
M.H., Lancaster, Pennsylvania
HE FANTASIZES ABOUT A HOT WIFE FIT FOR SHARING WITH HIS FRIENDS
In this fantasy I was married to an Italian beauty with dark brown eyes and chestnut hair, who had matured remarkably from the innocent teenager I first knew.
In our ten years together, Luisa had filled out so well, at five-five, one hundred thirty pounds, that I was the envy of friends and associates. I didn’t mind when she wore clothes that showed off her body. I even encouraged her. I was pretty sure she wasn’t quite aware of the feelings she could stir in a man, and we were never short of neighborly men stopping by, or of pool-party invitations.
Once she wore a pair of shorts I’d requested that almost caused an incident at a party. Of course she didn’t know I’d run them through the drier twice as long, and they’d shrunk to the point that they showed the bottom of her ass and the soft stretch material was form-fitting around her crotch. A fellow who’d had too much to drink cornered her in the kitchen. His wife didn’t appreciate it, but we bailed him out, saying he’d had too much. Luisa was no worse for the wear, and it was a turn-on for both of us.
At times I’d ask her about fantasies. I shared mine, but she wouldn’t admit to having them. She was afraid, I think, that by speaking them, she’d give them a life of their own, losing control of them and of herself. This made her that much more special and mysterious. I often wondered what went on in her fantasy world. All women have one, right?
One night at our “guys’ night out,” the fantasy life of the housewife came up, as sex usually did in
some
form. Things get looser after enough smoke and alcohol, and guys gave up bits and pieces about themselves and their wives.
Sherm asked me, “Art, how about Luisa? She’s one hot piece. I bet she’s got fantasies about doing another guy, no?”
That got a tot of attention, and I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know!
“Or another woman, covered with suntan lotion?” Gil ventured.
After some prompting, I finally said I thought it was only standard married sex stuff. That got a chorus of boos. My anger caused me to blurt out that I’d bet Sherm and Gil a thousand dollars I was right, and that all we had to do to confirm it was call Sherm’s wife Maria on the speaker phone. Maria is Luisa’s best friend—besides me—and would simply agree. That would be the end of it.
When we got Maria on the phone, she said that Luisa had admitted an orgy fantasy among others. My jaw dropped. Luisa hadn’t told me a thing about it, and now eight of my friends found out simultaneously. Plus now Sherm and Gil were expecting me to cough up the five hundred each I’d promised them. Well, I drowned my sorrow in a few more beers and said I’d get back to the guys on the money, which I didn’t really have.
The next few days I tried to figure out how to pay the debt and fretted that Luisa hadn’t confided in me. I took comfort in at least knowing she
had
fantasies.
On Friday, Gil called me at work to suggest we have lunch. When we were done eating, he said he’d been talking to Sherm. They felt bad about our “bet” and had come up with a “solution.”
“Since Luisa has that orgy thing—” he began, but I protested. He went on, “Why don’t we forget about the bet? You can just set us up with Luisa.”
I was a little flustered—first, that my friends wanted to fuck my wife, but second, that part of my mind was already beginning to plan it out! However, I wasn’t going to tell Gil that.
He continued, “You know, just us. The others don’t have to know. Hey, it might even be her dream come true! She’s one hot piece of ass, Art. All of the guys would kill to get some of that.”
In a hushed tone I said, “Look, this is my wife we’re talking about, not some hooker. What if it was
your
wife?”
“Shit, pal, Sherm’s already
done
Connie, just like I’ve fucked Maria. Besides, you’ve got it wrong. We’re not talking about sex for money, just a little swapping. Most of the guys do—except you and Luisa, and maybe another couple.”
I was incredulous. “You guys swap?”
“Not formally. It’s spur-of-the-moment, like over a joint. All good, clean fun.”
“Marriages all intact?” I asked. “No problems? No pettiness?”
“Better than the seventies,” he said.
“Even if I said yes, Luisa would never go for it,” I said. “She doesn’t even
like
Sherm. Look, I’ll get you the money.”
“Forget the money,” Gil said. “That was just a joke. Talk to Luisa. Maybe this is the chance she’s been waiting for.”
That’s where we left it. Throughout the day, and into the commute home, I pictured myself saying, “Look, I want you to sleep with not one but two friends of mine, including one you hate, because while they say I don’t owe them, I did make a drunken bet about fantasies you have that you won’t admit to me, but only to your friend Maria.”
No, it wasn’t fair to blame her for that. She could confide in who she wanted.
I could say, “They think maybe you’ll
like
having them do God-knows-what to you.” That gave me a tingle. What would they do to her, if they could? The images roaring through my mind like an unstoppable freight train left me glad I didn’t have to walk right away. I never realized how kinky my imagination could be.
That mood stayed with me through dinner and the ensuing evening, except during sex, when somehow the freight trains roaring in my mind led to mind-blowing orgasms. Luisa asked what had changed my mood so abruptly, and I confided in her—up to a point. Her eyes widened, her lips parted in surprise, as she heard about the bet, then Gil’s suggestion of what we could do, not as a bet, but as friends, and then his claim that we were the only ones who
weren’t
swapping.
Not wanting to raise the subject of fantasies, I didn’t say what the “bet” was about. While I explained Gil’s idea, my boner sprang up. Luisa must have felt it as it throbbed against her inner thigh.
“You want to know, do I want to fuck Gil and Sherm?
Sherm
, of all people?” Her hand slipped to my hard-on, massaging as she talked. “And apparently this is a turn-on for you?” She pushed the covers off and straddled me, still holding my pole. “You want me to do it, huh?” It was more a statement than a question. She rubbed my cockhead against her wet cunt lips. As she worked my cock back in her cunt she said, “Tell me you want me to fuck them. Tell me.”
As she rode me like a bucking bronco, I lost it. I said yes, and we both rode a huge orgasm to its climax. Afterward, we lay there in bliss, holding each other.
Luisa said, “Sunday night we’ll say they’re coming over to watch football.”
“Will it make it easier for you if I’m not here?” I asked.
“No, no,” she said, “if I’m fucking your friends for you, I want you here to see what they do. All I ask is that you don’t say anything. I might lose my nerve.”
I was glad she said that. I didn’t want to miss seeing it either.
When I called Gil to convey the invitation for Sunday, he was in full agreement and said he’d pass the word to Sherm. That set, we waited for the main event.
Sunday was steeped in preparation and anticipation. Luisa seemed nervous yet relaxed, in that the burden was all on Gil and Sherm. If nothing else, it would be different from the familiar sex we shared. She seemed absolutely radiant.
Seven o’clock finally arrived, and so did the guys, carrying a couple of bottles of champagne and flowers and a pouch. We exchanged nervous pleasantries. As Gil uncorked a bottle of bubbly, Luisa came down the stairs in a French maid’s outfit she’d worn at Halloween, complete with thigh-high black stockings and high heels.
She said, “I’ll get that,” took the bottle and handed glasses of champagne all around. When she bent over to give the guests theirs, she flashed me, and I saw she had no panties on under that short skirt. As she bent to fill my glass, I knew the guys were getting a first hard look at the delights they were soon to enjoy. She paused at my glass for quite a time, legs slightly askew. She was basking in the embarrassed look on my face as her happy cunt smiled at Gil and Sherm.
Her perfume, my favorite, filled the air with her every movement. I was lost in its fragrance—she wore it the first time we had sex. She proceeded to down the rest of the bottle and handed me the next one to open. Champagne is her drink of choice, and just a little makes her horny, so I was surprised at how much she was drinking. Nerves? Or abandon? I popped the cork and prepared to refill her glass, but she took the bottle and sat on Gil’s lap, sipping away.
She kissed Gil and said to Sherm and him, “What did you boys have in mind?”
Gil’s hand massaged her stockinged thigh while he whispered—something nasty, I’m sure. Luisa giggled. “What do you think my husband would say?”
The men stood, and Luisa undressed them. They kissed her and explored her supple body through the thin fabric. My nervousness and a growing erection made me change positions, watching my friends seduce my wife—or was it vice versa? Sherm’s hand slid under her skirt, cupping her pussy and making her shudder and moan between kisses.