It started as another of our block parties, which always feature plenty of good food and booze, and pretty good company—if you’ve had enough booze. My husband always liked to joke that I could be found “making the rounds with a cocktail in her hand,” which I suppose he thought was funny. That day I was wearing a modest but flimsy short dress with spaghetti straps holding the top just above my boobs. I was bare-legged except for a pair of sandals, and thought I looked pretty sexy for 41.
For a sedate suburban block there are a surprising number of cute guys, making me wish, as always, that their wives weren’t my at-least-supposed friends. But there’s no law against flirting, so that’s what I was doing when I noticed a suspicious conversation—I’d almost describe it as “conspiratorial”—taking place between Walt (my husband) and our host, Enzo, plus another neighbor, Patrick—as it happens, two hunks I’d had my eye on for ages. I didn’t know what was going on, but I had a bad feeling.
I tried to put it out of my mind, though, and enjoy the party. But an hour later, when a lot of the guests were leaving, my husband, grabbed my wrist and said, “I need to talk to you,” and started to almost drag me upstairs. I had a good idea of what was going on, and when we got upstairs and I saw light coming out of an open door at the end of the hallway, I knew where it was supposed to be going on.
Pat and I have been going strong for over 40 years and are still two horny people who make love at least twice a week. Often on Saturday nights we go with two or three couples either to a local club or to one of our homes. Either way, before the night is over we have a fling with all the others. It’s worked for us because we all believe jealousy and dishonesty are first cousins.
However, Pat and I only act like this while we’re with those friends—except if Pat has to travel for a meeting or to buy more goods for her shop. She always tries and mostly succeeds at finding a young guy who’s also away from home. She’s told me all the stories—like the time she spent a whole week with this guy in his early 30s.
In her shop Pat employs two young wives to assist her, one in the morning, the other in the afternoon, and in the afternoon a young man comes in for two or three hours to help with the heavy work and keep the stock room in order.
After college my sweetheart and I found jobs in cities near enough to continue our relationship but distant enough to create a problem when we decided to get married. Our solution: to find a cozy place in the country in between the cities where we work.
We moved in right after our honeymoon, just dumping in the boxes of shit from our old apartments. One day I was doing some unpacking while Michelle was at work and inadvertently opened one of her cartons. It was full of videotapes. Intrigued, I carried it to the TV room.
There were 36 numbered tapes. I loaded “No. 1,” and saw Michelle lying naked on the bed in her old apartment masturbating! As I sat captivated, the camera zoomed in on her glistening vagina and a male voice said, “You like playing with your pretty little pussy, don’t you?”
“I love it!” she said. “But I need to be fucked!” Which shocked me. In our (many) sexual encounters, she never once used foul language.
My friend Gayle had been married to her high school sweetheart for 24 years when she came home unexpectedly one day and caught him with their neighbors’ 20-year-old daughter. She had gotten hysterical and run them both out before packing her bags and leaving that house forever. She had then called me and asked if she could come and stay with us for a while, and of course I said yes.
When she got here the poor woman cried on my shoulder for four days, telling me how she and Cal had always taken their vows very seriously, and had been completely faithful to one another—or so she’d thought. She had never let another man touch her, shooting down anyone who tried until they finally quit. She declared that she thought no man could be trusted, and she then wanted to know how my husband Orin and I had managed to keep our marriage together for so long.
I’m sure I shocked her when I told her that both Orin and I had engaged in intercourse with other people, but never secretly and always with the other’s consent. I told her that I had been with a rather large number of men, while Orin had only found half a dozen women he’d wanted to screw.
We had been on the road about six hours and were making good time on the first day of our two-week vacation. We were out in the middle of nowhere, enjoying the scenery and each other’s company, when I spotted a herd of ponies standing along a fence. In the midst of the group stood a stallion, his long male organ dangling impressively. As we passed by I commented on its size, asking June if she would like it if I had a tool like that. She scoffed and told me not to talk foolishly. “Men don’t get that big!” she declared.
I begged to differ, saying, “I know I’m not that big, but some men are, and some are even bigger.”
She went silent then, and we drove several more miles without speaking before I finally broke the silence, asking her what she was thinking about, “Sex,” was her one-word answer.
“All right,” I responded instantly. “You want to stop for a quickie?”
I laid my head back and relaxed as my husband piloted our BMW through the early afternoon traffic on our way to celebrate our lucky 13th anniversary at a fancy upscale resort. The resort boasted in-room hot tubs and several spas that offered anything you’d ever want. They also had a private golf course, which appealed to us, since we rarely had time to play together. It was costing us a mint, but we had booked a room for a week, which gave us lots of time in which to enjoy ourselves.
Mother Nature had stepped in at just the right time to put our sex life on hold for the previous five days. Of course my period had seldom stood in our way before, but this time I held out, wanting Bill, my husband, to be horny as hell for our private time together.
We were checked in and unpacked by four, and half an hour later were enjoying a cocktail on our spacious private balcony, while checking out the view of the resort’s beautiful grounds. Bill got up to move behind me and began rubbing my shoulders until I leaned forward to allow him access to my back, which he massaged for five minutes or more before I felt him release the hooks of my bra, without going under my top. His hands moved back to my shoulders, then slipped down the front of my top to cup my breasts as he kissed my neck and whispered, “I want to make love to you, sweetheart.”
I could tell the young girl had the hots for my husband the very first day we went out by the pool. It didn’t surprise me, since most young girls have a thing for him, as do women of all ages, and rightly so. At 30 years of age, Kris, a former collegiate swimmer and one-time Olympic hopeful, still has an excellent physique, along with the most beautiful blue eyes and dark blonde hair that you can imagine. He also has a deep bronze-like tan that makes him look like an Adonis.
Kris and I met when he was 21 and I was 35. He had sustained some sports-related injuries to his hamstring and calf, and I was running a very successful sports rehabilitation clinic. I was trying to get him healed in time for the Olympic trials. As it turned out I was not able to achieve that goal, but he took a liking to me and we began dating. He was horny, and it didn’t hurt that I was rich.
We finally married eight years ago, and since then my clinics have made me a millionaire, which is probably why Kris stays with me. Sadly, my sex drive has dwindled over the years, but I encourage him to have fun with other people, as a way of keeping him.
I own a barbershop, and it never ceases to amaze me how pathetic and frustrating most of my customers’ sex lives are. They complain for ever about their lack of satisfaction. I have to tell them their attitudes are wrong.
It’s my good fortune to have a wife with needs as great as mine and a sense of adventure to go with it. Sherry is 50 but has the body of a 30-year-old. One look at her face and you can tell she can be naughty in bed. What really draws guys to her is her big tits. With her narrow back, they look enormous, espe cially when she wears a sling top with a low neckline—her “night on the town” outfit, with black stockings and heels. Her long, silky hair makes quite a package.
There’s nothing more exciting than watching her come on to some young guy who’s turned on by her but nervous because of me. They can’t believe their luck when I say that it’s okay for them to fuck her. I remember one kid about 20 who was on the couch with her and I watched him try to hide a massive hard-on until she made her move and gave him his best blowjob ever. Then she rode him, and he fucked her doggie-style with me watching and waiting my turn at her cunt.
A few months ago Sherry, a licensed beautician, was working in my shop, like she normally does twice a week, and a guy in his 20s came in. I could tell right away she was turned on by him, and I let her do his hair. She had on a tight floral-print blouse and a short tight black skirt with tan pantyhose. Her per fume was enough to give a guy a hard-on. He quickly had an apparent problem, made worse when Sherry bent over to reveal her lace bra and ample cleavage while she cut his hair.
By then I had my next customer and Sherry had this guy at the far end, so I couldn’t pay close attention. I also had my own erection to deal with! At one point I” looked over and saw that she had her hand under the pull over and was giving him a handjob while she cut his hair. He was in heaven. She looked at me and smiled.
Knowing what was next, I” turned my customer so he couldn’t see. Sure enough, on my next glance I saw that Sherry had her head under the pullover, bobbing up and down. She was sucking his cock right in the shop! Luckily he came and she swallowed every drop only a minute before the next customer came in the door. I was so excited, I nearly came in my pants.
An hour later Sherry was at it again. I saw her give another guy a handjob under his pullover while she did his cut. By the end of the day, it was all I could do to contain myself. The second I locked the door to close, we fucked right there on the floor.
Sherry now works in the shop four days a week, and I’ve seen her give countless handjobs and blowjobs, and she even lets a special few get their cock in her pussy in the bathroom or on the floor at closing. Business is boom ing, as is our sex life. We have no plans to retire!—F.H., Toronto, Ontario
Last year my beautiful wife, who’s 32, and several of her coworkers were offered an incentive program in their division of the company where they worked. It was a way to get them motivated and be more inclined to go that extra mile for clients.
The leader of the group, a woman named Alex, came up with an idea to improve things for the fledgling company. The others were startled when she said that every one would have to bid for projects—by arguing their qualifications and their enthusiasm for each.
This produced lots of cheer ful rivalry. A girl named Marcy went first, saying she was more qualified for certain projects because she’d spoken to clients before, but a woman named Pamela said she should be given the task because she had already worked out the cost figures. The girls got louder and louder as they made their pitches, until Marcy blurted out that she’d do it with no panties on! Every one nearly died in raucous laughter, and from that day, doing a job “with no panties on” became their phrase for approaching a client with sin gle-minded determination.
Alex had the final say, and when she put Fran, my wife, in charge of one ac count, Pamela wasn’t happy at all. Alex pointed out that Pamela had never come away with a signed order, and Fran was to do the job “with no panties on.” Pam e la, still pissed, said that was the only way Fran would get an order from “those two old pervs.”
When I heard all about this, I gallantly offered to come along for support. By then I was excited by the thought of my petite, normally shy wife trying to cope with the two “old pervs.”
We met the “old pervs,” Stefan and Daniel, in the res taurant of their hotel. They were surprised by my presence, but they were very impressed with Fran, and I was soon ignored. For men in their late 50s, they weren’t subtle. I tried hard to pretend I couldn’t hear what they were whispering hoarsely.
“We understand this order is very important to you,” Dan iel said. Fran smiled ner vously and nodded.
Stefan leaned closer to her and said, “We also under stand you’re very dedicated. We know about the phrase your company uses to de scribe such dedication. Have you lived up to it tonight?” I noted the look on Fran’s face as she realized that Pamela must have told them.
Fran was very quiet when Stefan and Daniel in vited us back to their room. I took her aside and assured her there was no need for her to do anything. She said she didn’t want to but was deter mined to get a signed deal. She said she knew what they wanted, and if I didn’t like it I may as well go home.
As we headed to their room, I saw these old perverts openly fondle my wife’s ass through her skirt, not caring if I was there. Once in the room, I nearly died when Stefan asked Fran to show them how much she wanted their business, and she demurely lifted up her skirt and let them feast their eyes on her naked pussy.
I couldn’t believe she was letting them treat her this way! I think she wished now I had gone home and left her to it. She clearly felt awkward with me there watching, and I think the pervs knew this and were enjoying her discomfort. When they pulled out their cocks and just started stroking them, she averted her eyes, but they asked, didn’t she want to look? So she did.
Then they asked if she wouldn’t like to get on her knees, and she turned a deep shade of red but did that too. She knelt in front of them and nervously reached for their cocks, letting me see her pretty mouth pleasure the two pervs at once.
Daniel had Fran sit on his lap with her skirt hiked up to her waist and eased his fat cock in her. Her mouth hung open, and her moans and gasps filled the room. I saw his big cock split her lips wide while he pulled her ass cheeks apart, and realized his cock was bare. When I asked him to please stop and put on a condom, he ignored me.
Now Stefan came around in front of Fran and gave her his cock to suck. She seemed happy coping with two cocks at once and let them maneuver her into any position they wanted. My head spun with the vision of” my wife kneeling in front of Daniel sucking his cock while Stefan fucked her pussy from behind, then shot his come in her.
Before we left, the pervs handed Fran a signed contract, and she squealed with delight, her pussy no doubt still leaking Stefan’s come. To show her appreciation, she let them both have one last feel of her sexy body.
Fran is far more sexy these days, and never fails to get an order when she puts her mind to it. Several of my friends have even benefited from her new found promiscuousness.—F.S., Phoenix, Arizona
My wife wanted to try something “exhilarating and new and fun and sexy.” She’s always game for having fun, doing things we’ve never done before—outrageous, maybe dangerous things. Lucy likes rattling people, combining her love for fucking with people’s inability to resist her charms—usually men, but not exclusively.
We drove into the city, and on the freeway she slipped her panties off and put them in her purse, then grinned at me and said, “Let’s go to the pier. I have an idea that should put some fire in this foggy night.” I looked at her and smiled. Her imagination can generate more excitement than a busload of strippers. “You know that air-blast entrance in the Good Times Gallery,” she said, “where the guy tries to blow ladies’ dresses over their heads with jets of air coming from under the floor? I’ll give him a blast when he shoots the air up my dress.”
It went as planned. When we walked in, the air shot up through the holes in the floor and blew Lucy’s short dress up nearly to her armpits. Her pantiless ass and bush were fully exposed to the 50 or so people around there, though some missed it and wouldn’t believe the others when they said a woman was “stark naked” with her dress up over her head.
Everyone seemed to enjoy the show except this bible-thumper who accused Lucy of “doing the devil’s work,” exposing her “privates” to innocent people. We found out later he runs his own church, which complains about nearly everything within a ten-mile radius. Almost before Lucy’s dress fell back into place he was on his cell phone calling the police to report the “indecent exposure.” According to him, even those who looked and clapped and delighted in the sight were culpable. After all, they encouraged that “sinful and depraved” behavior.
Within minutes two cops showed up. Pastor Pious explained his complaint against Lucy, the establishment and everyone else he could point a finger at.
“This woman exposed herself?” one cop said, dubiously. Maybe it didn’t seem entirely probable, considering that she was completely albeit provocatively dressed. He looked at her, seemingly wondering what she could have done to piss off Pastor Pious so.
“It’s like this, officer,” Lucy said. “As you enter the Good Times Gallery they blast air up from the floor. Seems everybody knew about it but us. I’m not wearing panties, so all these people got a nice look at my naked bush and rear end. Which, by the way, I think they probably got their money’s worth, don’t you? You should have been here.”
She smiled at the other cop, the better-looking of the two. She walked to the doorway and looked back at him. “You want to have the guy give it a blast of air so you can see for yourself what happened?”
The good-looking cop shook his head but smiled. I” don’t think he saw her wink at me.
Lucy took the two cops to” the side and said, “Look, officers, I didn’t streak the place, pull my panties down in front of a class of kindergartners or flash the good reverend. I simply went with out underwear, which I do all the time. Is there a law against that?” To the good-looking cop, she said, “You wearing undies?” Blushing, he closed his notebook.
“When you arrest us,” Lucy said to the cops, “could you give us a ride to the park ing lot where we left our car?” They agreed. As we approached the car, she asked in her sultriest voice if her husband could ride up front. “He’s always wanted to ride in a cop car. And it could give us a chance to get to know each other better,” she said, giving the good-looking cop a kiss on the cheek.
When I was in the front seat, I looked back through the wire divider and saw Lucy and the good-looking cop sitting together. Her dress was so high on her thighs that if he leaned forward a bit he could see her naked coonie peeking out at him. Since he didn’t take the bait, Lucy opened her legs a little more, and it was clear he finally noticed.
“I really wish you’d been there,” she purred. “I think you’d have enjoyed it. You like girls, don’t you, officer?”
“Oh yeah, Barry likes girls,” his partner said from behind the wheel. “And they certainly like him.”
Lucy opened her legs even wider, and as I thought he would, Barry noticed. He looked down, then leaned forward for a long look.
“See, I told you I don’t wear panties,” Lucy said. “You aren’t going to arrest me for indecent exposure, are you, officer?” When Barry shook his head, she reached for his hand, lifted it across her leg and placed it palm-down on her inner thigh. He moved his hand down the curve of her bare leg, looking at her all the time, watching her reaction.
Barry moved the hand slowly up to her pussy. She opened her legs even more, closed her eyes and sighed, “I hope you know what to do with that finger.” Almost before she finished, Barry must have moved his finger inside her. As she took a quick breath, she said, “Oh yes, he knows.”
Lucy opened her eyes and looked at me as Barry finger-fucked her. She turned her face down and pushed her chin into her chest. I’d seen my wife with other men before, many times, but I’d never seen her seduce an on-duty policeman in the back seat of a patrol car! By the look on the other cop’s face, he hadn’t either. “You don’t mind other guys fucking your wife?” he asked.
I said it was her pussy, she had a mind of her own, and I didn’t own her. He said if it was his wife, he’d never let her fuck other guys.
“That’s why I’m not your wife,” she said while she en joyed Barry’s finger. As he fingered her, she opened his fly and pulled out a hard cock, massaged it a few times with an up-and-down motion, then kissed the tip. He didn’t resist when she worked his pants down his legs, saying she didn’t want to get a telltale come stain on his pants.
Then she straddled him and eased herself down on his ample manhood. She sighed when it hit bottom, then began to bounce in pace with his rhythmic grunts. He was under her spell, and there was nothing he could do except fuck her while she bounced on his lap, forcing his cock as far in her as it would go.
“Are you married, officer?” she asked, slowing her pace. Unable to speak, he nodded. “Well, does your wife fuck you this good?” I” knew she was squeezing his cock with her cunt muscles, one of her many skills.
For the first time since Lucy mounted him, Officer Barry looked at me. “No one fucks me this good,” he replied feebly.
“You can come in me, officer,” she said, resuming her rapid bouncing.
“I’m not wearing a condom,” he said.
“Don’t need one, sweetie,” she said. “My tubes are long since tied. You tell me when you’re ready to come. My pussy will squeeze the jism right out of you.”
Officer Barry made odd sounds as he spurted in my wife. “You just fill Lucy with that hot come,” she said, bouncing so rapidly that he” stopped her, apparently unable to take that much friction. “Will you remember this night, officer?”
I looked back at Lucy kissing Barry good-bye. The kiss lasted nearly a minute. Finally he had to break the kiss to catch his breath. She rose up, and his limp cock plopped out of her with a sucking sound.
“Well, this was certainly a” nice ride,” she said. “You boys can let us off right here on this corner.” When she got out of the car, Lucy went around to the driver, leaned in the window and kissed him. “Sorry, next time it’ll be your turn,” she said with a giggle.
As we got in our car, which was all the way back by the wharf, Lucy looked over at me and smiled. “I never thought I’d like getting picked up by the police,” she said, “but they’re pretty nice here, don’t you think?” We shared a laugh and agreed that coming to the beach may be just the antidote to a boring night at home needed.
“What do you want to do next?” she said.
“Ever fucked a lifeguard while he’s on duty in his tower?” I asked.
“We’ll have to get a hotel room,” Lucy said.
“Maybe we can get it for free,” I said, and I saw the gears moving in her head. “A policeman, a lifeguard and a desk clerk—now that wouldn’t be a bad weekend, would it?”
Her smile broadened and she said, “I love you! What more could a wife ask for?”
I thought for a moment and casually said, “Two policemen?” —Name and address withheld
15273 viewed
11917 viewed
10770 viewed
9035 viewed
8422 viewed
8295 viewed
8009 viewed
7639 viewed
6151 viewed
5983 viewed
7 comments
4 comments
3 comments
2 comments
2 comments
2 comments
2 comments
2 comments
2 comments
1 comments
© GMCI Internet Operations Inc. All rights reserved.