After Ashley had danced with several of the groomsmen, she had disappeared. She had been gone for a quarter of an hour when I decided to get out of the crowded banquet room and wander around for a bit. As I walked down the hotel corridor, I passed a closed door, behind which I heard a familiar laugh. I opened the door to find another banquet room, this one dimly lighted, and empty except for three people in one corner. Staring into the dimness, I made out the form of a woman standing with her back to me, and then I recognized Ashley’s dress—a green blur surmounted by a tousle of her golden hair, among the stacked chairs and folded tables.
As my eyes grew accustomed to the dark, I could see two of the young groomsmen facing her. The three of them were close together, their heads nearly touching, and their hands seemed to be in constant motion, traveling over one another’s body.
Passing through the door and closing it behind me, I allowed the click of the latch to announce my presence. Ashley twisted toward the sound, and I could see her looking at me, but I couldn’t make out the expression on her face. She was still for a moment, and then, very deliberately, she lifted one foot to the seat of a chair. Drawing her skirt back along her leg until her bare thigh was exposed above her stocking tops, she unfastened the garters from her stockings and returned her foot to the floor. She repeated the process with her other leg. Then, leaving the garters dangling, she reached under her skirt and pulled down her panties.
After dropping the wisp of lace to the floor, she bent and pulled her stockings back up, reconnecting them to the garter belt, its narrow black strips of elastic in stark contrast to her white thighs.
After smoothing down her skirt, she slowly brought her fingers to the front of her dress, then unbuttoned it to her waist and pulled it open. Even in the dim light, her white breasts glowed where they overflowed the black, restraining lace of her bra.
The two guys had shed their jackets and now pressed in around her again. Their hands roved over her chest, grasping and caressing, and each of them in turn covered her mouth with his, kissing her long and avidly. Ashley reached for the front of their trousers, finding the hard evidence of their erections and grasping them through the cloth. When she began fingering their zippers, they quickly helped her by opening their flies and exposing their cocks. Ashley slipped one hand around each of them at the base, then slid her fingers up over the hard shafts.
She turned to face the door then, releasing the two cocks only long enough to turn around, then clutching them again as she gazed at me. The man on her left, the blond one, ran his hands up from her hips to her breasts, where he sank his fingers into the firm but pliant mounts.
Looking me straight in the eye, Ashley licked her lips and said, “You always wanted me to act like a slut, Charles. Well, that’s just what I’m doing—only not with you.”
She let go of the cocks then and eased her body downward, pressing back against the men, until she was squatting on her heels, with a young dick resting on each shoulder. “Why don’t you sit against the door,” she said to me, “to keep us from being interrupted again.”
Mutely, I dragged the nearest chair against the door and sat in it. Ashley now swiveled to face the dick that had been poking into her left cheek. Reaching up to grasp the young man’s hips, she pulled them forward, his cock thrusting into her hot, talented mouth.
With one hand she pumped the base of his pole in rhythm with her sucking mouth. With the other she cupped her right breast, lifting and kneading it, her white fingers squeezing herself through the black lace bra. She moaned as she continued to suck.
The other guy stood transfixed by the spectacle of my wife’s graceful face being penetrated by his pal’s rigid tool. I was mesmerized as well. After every few strokes, the soft hues of her face seemed to light up when she would open her bright eyes to look up at him—two sapphires above the pale rose lips circling the baby-pink cock that surged in and out of her moaning mouth.
Now, taking her right hand from her breast, she grabbed the dark-haired guy by his tool and pulled him toward her, working him closer to his friend. She then brought both cocks together and licked the underside of both heads at once. Holding them as close as possible, she then sucked both of them into her mouth. She could only take in about an inch of their combined girth, but she slurped and tongued that part most enthusiastically.
Releasing them after a moment, she began sucking them alternately, taking one deep in her mouth and then moving quickly to the other, taking it just as deep. After a few minutes of this, with the young men seemingly on the verge of exploding, she released them and stood up. Then with a quick movement she reached behind her to unclasp her bra, and slipped it off.
“Jesus, great tits!” the blond guy whispered, and he reached for her with both hands. His fingers brushed over her flesh, then squeezed the ripe mounds. Finally he took her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, rolling them.
While his friend explored my wife’s chest, the dark-haired guy moved around behind her and lifted her skirt. After caressing the curves of her ass, his fingers moved slowly down to probe at her pussy. Withdrawing his dampened fingers, he rubbed his hard dick up and down her ass crack, then between her thighs.
He pressed his hand between her shoulder blades, bending her gently forward. As she bent, he slid his cock against her vaginal lips, moistening it with her juices. Ashley continued to bend forward, until her mouth was level with the blond’s dick. Again she took it in her mouth, this time with a hungry slurp that was audible across the room. The blond again watched her lips circle his cock, watched her cheeks hollow as she sucked, then bulge as he filled her mouth. Her long yellow hair swung back and forth as her head bobbed up and down, up and down, and her breasts swayed gently with her movements.
The man behind her now slid his cock into her pussy. He went slowly, moving in and out, sinking about an inch deeper each time, until he was completely inside her. He leaned forward so he could reach around to cup her breasts, feeling them wobble each time his pelvis struck her ass. With one hand she steadied herself against the blond, and with the other she fingered her clit.
At one point she took the dick from her mouth. Between gasps for breath, between punctuating thrusts, she spoke to me. “Uhh . . . I hope you’re . . . uhh . . . happy now . . . See, I can be sexy . . . uhh . . . and enjoy it. Ohh yes, more, yes . . . yesss! Oh, I am . . . uhh . . . having fun . . . Are you?” Without waiting for my answer, she once again engulfed the cock that waved before her face.
Was I having fun? It was a good question. On the one hand, when I had encouraged my wife to be less inhibited, I hadn’t expected her to be so with anyone but me. On the other hand, there was no doubt that my dick had been hard and throbbing almost from the moment I had come in. And now it was twitching dangerously as I watched my wife unmistakably approaching orgasm. She moaned and shuddered, and then her body stiffened and she cried out as she reached her climax. Her arousal added to theirs, and before she had subsided, the two men grunted loudly and poured their come into her from each end.
After a pause, their cocks slipped out of her, and she stood up. As their breathing returned to normal, the young men straightened their clothes. Then they told her she was great, thanked her and drifted to the door. I rose and moved the chair aside. They didn’t look at me as they went out.
When the door closed behind them, Ashley said, “Please give me your handkerchief. The boys made a little mess.”
I fumbled in my pocket for my handkerchief, pulled it out and handed it to her wordlessly. She took it and wiped the flow from her thighs. She scooped her panties from the floor and stepped back into them, then buttoned her dress. Brushing the dress smooth over her killer curves, she tossed the handkerchief back to me. “Well,” she said as she headed for the door, “there are more men waiting. But don’t worry, darling—if you behave, later tonight you can be number six, or ten, or whatever.”
And with that she was gone.—C.L., San Antonio, Texas
SHE DRESSED L
IKE A HOOKER FOR MARDI GRAS, AND SHE REALLY LIVED THE ROLE
Last March I had to attend a business conference in New Orleans. It was Mardi Gras time, and since my wife Lisa had never been there, I brought her along. We thoroughly enjoyed the great food, live music and constant partying.
On our last night there we decided to really celebrate, including dressing up in costume. Unfortunately, we couldn’t find anything we both liked. Lisa was pretty annoyed that we couldn’t agree on what to wear, and let me know by not giving me a blowjob when I asked for it, something she is usually eager to do. Finally I had an idea. I suggested that she could dress like a hooker, and I would be her pimp. At first she resisted this notion, but I could tell she was thinking about it. Finally she put on a slinky black dress, a black thong and sexy high heels. Lisa is very shapely and has thick blonde hair. The dress barely covered her ass, and her tits were almost falling out. She was stunning. As she looked at herself in the mirror she smiled and winked at me, remarking, “I really do look like a working girl, don’t I?”
When we went down to Bourbon Street she was really playing the role. She wiggled her butt as we walked, and looked suggestively at the many men who were obviously enjoying her appearance. In the spirit of Mardi Gras, various men started offering her beads in return for her showing them her tits. Lisa was happy to oblige, and bared her chest several times, invariably gathering a crowd of horny men who whooped and cheered. She was loving the attention, and before long she had dozens of bead necklaces and a very inflated ego. She was also getting turned on, which was evident by her erect nipples and flushed face. After a few drinks, she turned to me and said that since I was her pimp, she would do whatever I wanted. I almost spilled my bourbon, but I managed to grin and began planning the next few hours in my head.
First we went to a bar where customers could stand out on a balcony and watch the crowd below. There were lots of people on the balcony (mostly men), who couldn’t help but stare at Lisa. She flirted shamelessly, and earned a few more necklaces by showing off her ass and tits. I finally told her to hand over her loot to me, saying that she would have to take off her dress to get it back. Lisa hesitated, but I could see the gleam in her eyes. She took a deep breath and pulled the clinging dress off over her head, which left her standing in her stiletto heels and black thong, and nothing else.
The crowd below us went wild, and the men on the balcony stared with astonishment as they watched this free strip show. There were ten or twelve guys on the balcony, and now I told her that in order to get her dress and beads back she would have to kiss or fondle every one of them. She smiled at that, and turned to a muscular college boy standing next to her, putting her arms around him and giving him a deep soul kiss, while she rubbed her pussy against his leg. The next lucky guy had Lisa nibbling on his ear while she stroked his crotch. She made her way around the balcony, and with each guy she did a little something different. She let several of them play with her tits, and most of them grabbed her firm ass. One young stud was wearing gym shorts, and she pulled them down and gave his semierect dick a quick lick. That got some loud applause, and the young man had a huge grin as he pulled up his shorts.
The last man to receive her attentions was a handsome black guy. He actually took one of her breasts in his mouth and stroked her pussy. She put her head back and moaned. From the way she was responding it looked like she was about to have an orgasm. Finally she broke away and turned back to me, and I reluctantly gave her back her dress and her beads.
As we left the bar, the black man followed us and asked if he might buy us a round of drinks. We were already pretty buzzed, but accepted his offer anyway. Our new friend was named Greg, and he was quite the charmer. He knew just what to say to make Lisa feel comfortable. He complimented her on her show on the balcony, and told her he found her extremely attractive. Then he said he was sorry they couldn’t continue what they had started. Lisa put her hand in his lap and told him, “Maybe we can!” I raised my glass to him and smiled.
We grabbed a taxi back to the hotel. Lisa sat between us, and we took turns kissing and fondling her, while the driver tried to keep his eyes on the road. In the hotel elevator, going up to our room, we convinced her to take her dress and thong off. She casually walked down the hall to our room wearing only her high heels and beads. Needless to say, we were right behind her and feeling horny as hell.
When we got in the room, Greg said that he had never had a blonde pussy before, to which Lisa replied, “Well, I’ve never had a black cock before!” Then she moved close to him, deftly opening his belt with one hand while unzipping his fly with the other. His dick was already semierect, and it was quite large. Lisa was purring as she went to her knees and took his enormous member in her mouth. Her talented, stroking tongue had him rock-hard in no time. She could barely get him in her mouth, but she alternated between sucking on the head and licking the shaft, occasionally rubbing his dick all over her face, all the while telling him what a big, beautiful cock he had.
After a few minutes Lisa got on the bed, and Greg and I tore off our clothes and joined her. Greg began kissing her mouth and sucking her tits, while I started licking her neatly trimmed pussy. It didn’t take long for her to come, and as soon as she recovered she asked Greg when she was going to get his cock. I moved out of the way and he moved over her, easing her pussy lips apart with the head of his penis while she squirmed with delight. He slowly pushed into her, and I watched her stretch to accommodate what must have been ten inches of thick black cock. She gasped with pleasure as he filled her up, and she began to moan, encouraging him to continue.
Soon he was pounding into her the way she likes it. She was moaning and thrashing around as though she was possessed, while he twisted her every which way. Finally he put her on her hands and knees while he poked her from behind. She must have had three or four orgasms, and at times she was yelling so loud I was afraid security might show up. After almost half an hour he was still going strong, but Lisa asked for a break. I broke out the camera and took a few pictures of Lisa and Greg, including one with his cock in her mouth (still rock-hard). When she had caught her breath, she laid him on his back and licked him all over, paying lots of attention to his cock and balls. Eventually she squatted over him and lowered herself slowly onto his shaft. Greg played with her breasts as she slid up and down, begging him to fill her with his come, her language getting more and more graphic as she told him to fuck the shit out of her. Finally he began to moan and buck his hips, while Lisa closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation of her black stud filling her up. When she climbed off, she licked the remaining come from his cock, while looking at me out of the corner of her eye.
After Greg left, Lisa and I talked about how much fun this role-playing had been. Because she was supposed to be a hooker, she had felt like she could really cut loose and ignore all her inhibitions, which is what she had done. We didn’t realize how convincing she had been until the next morning, when we found the five crisp hundred-dollar bills that Greg had left on the dresser.—L.T., Cleveland, Ohio
HE THOUGHT SHE’D CHANGED HER WILD WAYS, BUT THEY WERE ONLY HIBERNATING
Tracy and I married young, because she became pregnant with our first child when she was eighteen and I was twenty. When we met at college she had been quite promiscuous. It was at a fraternity party, and I noticed her right away. She was provocatively dressed and was flirting with quite a few guys. I was just standing around watching when she surprised the hell out of me by coming up to me and asking what a nice guy like me was doing in a place like that. I responded by saying that I was waiting to get picked up by a girl like her. She laughed and grabbed my arm. We went outside, talked and immediately clicked. From that night on, we were an item.
Tracy no longer seemed to crave the attention of others, and totally curbed her promiscuity. She was mine alone, and was she good! She taught me all the things she liked best, and though I was relatively inexperienced, she assured me that I had become quite a lover. When she g
ot pregnant, we decided to marry.
For the next ten years or so everything went fine. Tracy was happy being my wife and taking care of our son. When the boy got old enough to go off to boarding school, Tracy was in her late twenties, and she decided to go back to college. She really enjoyed her classes, and did quite well. But then, for the first time in our marriage, she began to feel restless. We still had great sex together, but Tracy seemed bored and unsatisfied. When I asked her what was wrong, she said that she thought we had gotten together and settled down at such a young age that we had sold ourselves short on excitement and variety. She then said that she wanted to get more out of her life, and one thing she wanted more of was sex. She said she wanted to date, and to feel free to fuck other men. She said she didn’t want to break up our marriage, but she didn’t want to feel trapped either.
I was dumbfounded and confused, and I didn’t know what to say. I suppose I felt a certain amount of anger and jealously, although I have to admit that there was some excitement mixed in there as well. And the more I thought about it, the stronger the excitement became. Finally, not knowing what else to say, I said that I thought she should go for it, as long as she was discreet, but that I wanted her always to tell me what she was up to.
Tracy began by subscribing to a local telephone chat-line service and having a lot of phone sex. Before long she had made her first arrangement for a live date. When the time came I watched her dress for her date. She had shaved her pussy, and she put on a pair of lacy bikini panties, a garter belt, fishnet stockings, a short, tight black leather skirt, a black lace demi-bra that barely covered her nipples and a low-cut black tank top that showed quite a bit of cleavage. She carefully applied her makeup and sprayed on some expensive perfume. She looked so terrific that I couldn’t control my erection. Tracy laughed, came up to me, pulled down my zipper and gave me an exquisite blowjob. She was careful to swallow all my come. She then rinsed her mouth, brushed her teeth, and gave me a good-bye kiss.
Letters to Penthouse XXI Page 5
