When I married Harold, my high school sweetheart, I was still technically a virgin. We had experimented with heavy petting and mutual masturbation, but we hadn’t gone any further than that before our wedding night. Being an only child, I was quite sheltered, and my parents were very protective, so my knowledge of sex was limited. Harold was raised in a similar household, and as a schoolteacher he has always been more interested in academic than in carnal knowledge anyway.
After our graduation Harold went to work for his aunt and uncle in their family business, and I took a job as a corrections officer at a local maximum-security prison. At first both Harold and my family were worried about me working in such a dangerous place, especially as I am only five feet five and 126 pounds, with a 34C-22-35 figure, brown eyes and raven-black hair. But it was a good job, and eventually they became reconciled to the idea.
Once I started working there I found myself subjected to some of the most disgusting, depraved things I could ever have imagined—some of which secretly turned me on. I witnessed men sucking each other’s dick, and even fucking each other in the ass. One day I walked past a man’s cell and saw him naked, perched on his chair like a bird, with his very large blood-engorged cock jerking upward toward his stomach and spraying sperm all over his face and chin in great spurts. His eyes were closed and he was lashing out with his tongue, trying to catch as much of his ejaculation with it as he could. His scrotum hung obscenely off the edge of the chair. His balls were twice as big as my husband’s, and his dick was too, even though he was a much smaller man in stature. I watched with both disgust and a depraved kind of excitement as his massive ejaculation coated his tongue, chin and stomach.
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My husband Frank and I had booked ourselves a two-week vacation at a well-known mountain resort a full year in advance, so both of us were quite devastated when one of Frank’s most important out-of-town business clients called with a major problem, demanding his instant attention, the day before we were to leave. I immediately tried to change our reservations, but was informed that they were booked up for the next few months. I was also told that at this late date our advanced payment was non-refundable.
Frank insisted that I go to the resort by myself, saying that he would join me after resolving his client’s problem. So the next morning the two of us flew off in different directions, with Frank hoping to solve things quickly and join me by the end of the week.
I was picked up at the airport by a resort driver around noon on Sunday, and arrived at the lodge an hour and a half later. I spent an hour unpacking my things, then took a nap, awakening with just enough time to shower and dress for the family-style dinner, which was served each night at 6:30. I wore a simple but short low-cut sundress that displayed my legs and plenty of cleavage, just as I would have if Frank were with me.
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It was a lovely Friday in May when my husband called me from his office, asking me if I would like to meet him for drinks and dinner after work. As he was going on a fishing trip early the next morning and wouldn’t be home until Sunday evening, he though it would be nice to have a night out before he left. I said I would love to, and agreed to meet him at our favorite dinner club about five.
I took a shower and changed into a simple A-line skirt and a white blouse. I liked the way the half-cup bra I wore caused my large nipples to press hard against the blouse, knowing it would make my husband horny to see how other men checked out his wife. The tiny panties I wore couldn’t contain all of my lush pubic hair, and I knew it would drive Walter wild if I should happen to flash him, and “accidentally” expose myself to others as well. This would also guarantee that I would be receiving some great fucking when we got home.
I took a cab, arriving at the club shortly before five. I expected Walter to show up soon afterwards, but a few minutes later he called me on my cell phone to tell me that he would be about an hour late. I told him I would wait for him in the bar, and went to have a drink.
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My wife Stella and I have been married for 27 years, and we are still completely in love with each other. Stella is half Asian and half Mexican, with long black hair and black eyes. She is five feet nine, weighs around 130 pounds and has a great set of tits on her 38C-28-38 body. We have always had a great sex life, as Stella is always horny and loves to fuck and suck cock.
We have both been avid readers of Penthouse Letters for over 20 years. We take turns reading the letters out loud to each other, and we always find them arousing. Over the years I have noticed that the letters that seem to turn Stella on the most are the ones about gang bangs and group sex. They seem to make her pussy particularly wet, especially if the men in them have really huge cocks.
The thought of Stella fucking a bunch of well-hung studs has always been a big turn-on for me too. We often talked about it over the years, but Stella never seemed to take the idea seriously. During these conversations I would often ask her how many guys she thought she could fuck at one time. Her answer was always the same: “It would depend on how horny I was, but if I was really hot, and the guys were young and good looking, maybe seven or eight.” Then she would laugh, as though the whole idea was a joke.
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After leaving work early that Friday to see my wife and kids off to her folks’, I had the idea to stop in the butcher’s to treat myself to a nice thick steak, and ran into Wendy, a really hot number in her mid-40s who flirts with every guy in town but always claims to be faithful to her schmuck husband.
After we said hello, the first words out of her mouth were that her family was away for the weekend. I told her same here, and the next thing I knew she’d invited me to dinner! I couldn’t believe she was actually going to give it up, but I went along, and asked Nino the butcher for a nice pair of rib-eyes, telling Wendy, “The least I can do is provide the meat.”
She said, “I was counting on you providing the meat.” She said to come by at six, and “dress casual.” Whew!
It was a warm evening, so I merely threw on a pair of shorts and a pullover. I arrived armed with a couple of bottles of wine. Wendy greeted me in a flimsy yellow sundress—almost more revealing of her firm, curvaceous, tanned body than if she’d been nude! My cock was already stirring when she handed me a drink and clicked her glass to mine.
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I was beyond thrilled when Angie called to say that she and Chris would be passing through Seattle for a few days, and I insisted they stay with Stan and me. Though we’d stayed in touch, it was forever since I’d seen her!
We’d been best friends in high school and were supposed to go to the same college. Only she got pregnant, which for sure threw a scare into the rest of us! But she and Chris got married, and she took care of the baby and worked while he went to school, and when he graduated he took a job in the East, and I met Stan and we wound up here. I worked it out—it was 18 years since we’d seen each other!
The irony of Angie’s story was that I learned I couldn’t have kids. It was probably tougher on Stan than on me, but we adjusted, and it was great for our sex life, which was pretty fabulous.
They arrived on a Friday afternoon. We cooked out, and jabbered on till two in the morning. My Stan knows that when I’m wound up like that, he won’t get any rest until he fucks me good—and Stan always gives me what I want. In bed, he munched lovingly on my wet muffin, bringing me to a wonderful climax, then slid his cock in my cunt and fucked me until we exploded together.
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I know that the kind of relationship my husband and I have wouldn’t work for everyone. I just wish that people would be open-minded enough to not judge what works for us.
The first time I fucked a guy other than Larry, no one was more surprised than me. Not surprised that I was in bed with Grady and he was ramming his cock in and out as hard as he could. I was there willingly, eagerly. I was surprised that I even thought of doing such a thing, let alone actually doing it.
We were all pretty sloshed that night—me and Larry and his old Army buddy, who was trying to get over being dumped by his wife for a guy she said was “more exciting.” You could have fooled me, because anytime I was around Grady, seeing his amazing body—an old-style “brick shithouse”—sent my pulse racing. And Larry always said that in their Army days Grady was God’s gift to the ladies. The guys in the platoon lived out their sexual fantasies through his legendary sexploits.
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One Saturday evening we had a bunch of friends over for drinks and burgers from the grill, and since my skin is sensitive, I was wearing a light blue sundress rather than the halter top and short shorts favored by the other ladies present. With all that female flesh on display, I was fascinated that the men were nevertheless sneaking peeks up under my dress! I admit I encouraged them a bit by crossing and uncrossing my legs, “accidentally” flashing my panties.
After dinner my husband helped me get everything to the kitchen, and I sent him back out to entertain our guests while I put things away. While I was at the sink washing a few things, and keeping an eye out the window to the back yard watching everybody mingle, I was suddenly encircled by two strong arms. Then the hands were cupping my full breasts and a hard cock was pressing into my ass!
I turned my head and saw our neighbor Vince. His wife and kids were away for the weekend. I asked what the hell he imagined he was doing. He said, “I’ve wanted to get my hands on these for years, and couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this.”
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When we drove 150 miles to meet our old friend Marcus in the town where he would be stopping for the weekend, not having seen him in the years since he moved West, my husband teased me about driving me all that way to meet my “boyfriend.”
In fact, while Marcus is the kind of guy who attracts a woman’s eye, and we did once flirt and horse around, we never dated or did more than exchange hugs and a kiss on the cheek, although he made it clear he’d like to do more, and I’ve fantasized about being with him.
Cory, my husband, had reserved a room in the only motel in the town, and it was a good thing he did, because when we checked in Friday afternoon the place was booked solid. We’d just settled in when Marcus called saying he’d just checked in, and would meet us in the bar next door as soon as he showered.
I took a quick shower, then without dressing did my hair and makeup while Cory showered. As I stood finishing my makeup, he came up behind me, pressing his hard cock against my ass, and slipped his hands around to cup my breasts. While he kissed my neck, his right hand slid down and gently rubbed my pussy. He whispered, “You know you shouldn’t hang around naked like this.”
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Molly had told me not to call, that we couldn’t ever do it again because she’s a friend of my parents. In fact, she taught me French all through high school. But I couldn’t get her out of my mind, and the next time I came home from my freshman year of college, for Christmas break, I did call, and she agreed to meet me at a motel. Maybe she wasn’t over me either!
I’d said I would register at the motel, then text her the room number. While I waited in the room, I flashed back to our encounter over Thanksgiving weekend, my first time home from school. I’d been assigned the part of Mom’s shopping list that took me to the mall. The last stop was at the florist’s, and that’s where I ran into Molly, as she insisted I call her now.
“You’re a grown man,” she said, “and I do mean grown.” She seemed to study my whole body, head to toe, with a lingering stop in the middle.
She’d bought a shitload of flowers and plants, so I offered to help her get it all to her car after I dumped Mom’s stuff in our car. It wasn’t necessary, since the florist had a kid to do that, but she accepted and said, “Then maybe I can buy you a cup of coffee and hear how college is treating you.”
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