Swap Meets (Volume 2): A 13 Book Excite Spice Hotwife Erotica MEGA Bundle (Excite Spice Boxed Sets)

by Selena Kitt

  She didn’t move her fingers, thank God, but kept them fully inside of me as I felt my pussy clenching and releasing over and over. I was vaguely aware that Clarence had stopped moving and I glanced up as saw that he was softly stroking himself and streaks of his semen covered Caitlin’s back. Still I came, and still she kept her fingers within me. She moved upward though, and with her free hand she softly stroked my face and I felt her lips gently and soothingly kissing my cheek and my neck. It was when she leaned against me and I felt her weight on my shoulder, my side, and my thigh that I felt the crest give way to the downslope, and the contractions grew less intense and the shocking and debilitating pleasure gradually morphed into manageable joy and then soft warmth. I felt my breathing returning to normal and felt my body gradually handing control back to me. I don’t know how long the orgasm lasted and how long it took for me to think clearly, but when I could breathe well enough to say “Oh, God” Clarence already had his pants on and was looking around to see where his shirt had fallen. I yelped as sensation flooded me again, heard Caitlin giggle, and realized she had pulled her fingers out, and I was so sensitive that the motion had overwhelmed me. Ten minutes later, Clarence was back at his laptop typing. I was still on the bed, and Caitlin was sleeping, her head on my shoulder as I softly stroked her hair and watched her breathe.

  Later, I bought her a swimsuit at the gift shop and all three of us sat in the hotel Jacuzzi and soothed our overworked bodies. We learned that she was looking for a summer job and it was Clarence who suggested I could use some help with the kids. An hour later, we’d broken a promise to ourselves and hired a live in nanny, and it turned out she was very good at her job. We had to rent a house and give up the freedom of life in the RV for three months, but the summer was spent in each other’s arms, and it was a small price to pay. I still went to bed thinking of her as I moved on top of my man, and I still woke him up with my mouth while visions of her ran through me, but as often as not she was right there with us. When the time came for her to return to college, we cancelled our lease and packed everyone into the RV and dropped her off ourselves. She asked if we would rent a home in Flagstaff, but we didn’t. We were approaching our forties, and she was eighteen. I didn’t want her to live her life for our sake. I wanted her to enjoy her time in college and to enjoy her life; but we did center our travels around Arizona over the next three years, and every summer we rented a house and hired a nanny. On the day of her graduation, we coordinated with her parents, who never realized the reasons for our affection for their daughter. They bought her a small starter home and we bought her a car.

  The summers were over, but we still saw her every now and again and enjoyed her together. Clarence and I gradually increased the radius of our travels until our episodes with Caitlin happened only once or twice per year and then faded away completely and she became a friend we called and emailed, though I suppose we expected that we would be with her again someday. When she married, though, Clarence and I decided that part of our lives was over, though we still send Christmas cards and birthday presents. To this day, though, when I put my mouth on Clarence or I feel him pushing into me I imagine her lips and the feel of her skin, and when she calls me on the phone to talk of her day, I still feel the thrill of her presence, my princess-haired Caitlin, my wholesome sweet beauty, my lover, my coffee shop girl.

  The End

  About the Author

  Molly Synthia has written explicit erotica since she was a teen. With a keen eye for character development and the sensibilities of a woman raised conservatively but thrust into a world of license, her tales are filled with heart and heat.

  Visit Molly’s Website for more of her books

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  A Gangbang Wasn't Part of the Plan! by Savannah Seeds

  A Gangbang Wasn't Part of the Plan! - Savannah Seeds

  Savannah Deeds

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  Savannah Deeds loves writing about women who place themselves in situations where the consequences are sexy, unexpected, and utterly the women’s own fault. It’s a fun look at life in general and maybe it could be described as sex-tuation comedy?

  I suppose it was my fault, really. Okay, there’s no suppose at all.

  Nolan was tasked with setting up the bachelor party for his best friend and I bitched about it like crazy. He wouldn’t budge at all and I said he just wanted to look at strippers or even get a blowjob from one and it was stupid and I wouldn’t stand for it. He ignored me and asked why I got to give Regina a bachelorette party but he couldn’t give one to Pat.

  The answer was obvious, of course. Men were pigs but women had self-restraint.

  So, I cooked up a plan. I told him I’d help with everything. He was hesitant at first but I sealed the deal by showing him some websites online for the stripper. He’d bought it hook, line and sinker. He’d been skeptical at first but then I showed him the site where I was ordering the male strippers (yes, plural) for the bachelorette. “Look, Nolan,” I said. “I’m hoping you’ll have the common decency not to go crazy with the stripper.”

  “That’s a myth, honey. I won’t do anything other than watch the stripper. Nobody will.”

  “Bullshit,” I said. “Everyone always sleeps with the stripper.”

  He laughed. “There are going to be six guys there. You’re saying they’re all gonna take a turn?”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me,” I said. “You might not even take turns but take the slut two or three at a time.”

  He laughed again. “A female stripper is a slut? What are the male strippers you’re hiring?”

  I sighed dramatically. “Okay. I’m going to trust you but I don’t have a lot of confidence. Listen, we’ll follow a ‘don’t ask don’t tell’ policy with the parties. I won’t harass you about what you did at the bachelor party but don’t you dare even ask about the strippers at our party.”

  Of course, I was full of shit. If he thought he could get away with any kind of hanky panky with a stripper he had another thing coming. He rolled his eyes and agreed with me, and then I got to work. I had a damned awesome body fueled by gymnastics in high school and college and a pretty intense workout schedule now. I had the kind of an ass men wept over. Best of all, I had stripper experience. I’d put myself through college that way. In fact, part of my fitness regime involved pole dance workouts. I was going to be the stripper and if my husband so much as let his hands wander, he was in for it. Of course, I had to make some changes to my appearance. I’d wear a mask and dye my blonde hair red. I’d also get a Brazilian bikini wax and make myself completely bare. My husband knew I was against bare pussies, knew that I thought they were just a silly way for men to worship young girls. He’d never recognize me.

  I went to a boudoir photography place and dressed in a sexy red corset with a garter belt and red stockings. Then, I put on a lacey mask, kind of like a Mardi Gras mask. For the photo shoot, I used a temporary wash-out hair color. I had the pictures taken and that evening showed them to my husband in a few poses. “This is the stripper?” he asked. I nodded and he said, “Wow. I kind of thought you were going to find someone ugly and you picked someone really, really hot.”

  “Why would I find someone ugly?” I asked. “I’m not going to pick someone ugly for the bachelorette party.”

  “Okay, then,” I said. It’s settled. Clitoria is your stripper.”

  “Clitoria? Are you serious?”

  I laughed. I’d chosen a silly name on purpose. “Well, I thought it might be better than Titties MacKenzie or Sweet Vibrations.”

  He laughed, too, and then said, “Listen, Honey. There’s no way I’m going to do anything appropriate at the bachelor party. I can’t speak for anyone else but there’s only one woman I want and she’s looking at me right now.”

  I smiled and kissed him but I wasn’t even close to convinced. That was all right. It wouldn’t be lon
g before I’d discover just how trustworthy he really was. I almost slept with him right then. All of my plans and deception had sort of turned me on but instead of reaching down to grab at his cock through his shorts and get things started, I pulled away and said, “We should pick a place now. How about the Downtown Mayweather?”

  “That’s one of the nicest hotels in town,” he said. “That’ll work.” I could hear the disappointment in his voice. He thought sex was on the menu. I smiled sweetly and got the phone to make a reservation. I wasn’t going to sleep with him before the bachelor party. He’d have to deal with the stripper while horny, and we’d see just how much self-control he really had.

  Once it was decided, the days seemed to pass far too slowly. I brushed up on my dance moves and found myself remembering just how much I enjoyed stripping. Even stripping all by myself in front of a mirror had me turned on to no end, and I was excited about doing it in front of the men at the bachelor party. I knew I’d be turned on, and I knew that me getting turned on was going to make me a better dancer and therefore a far greater temptation for Nolan and the other men. I realized that if Nolan behaved, he’d end up having the absolutely best sex of his life after the party. If he didn’t, he was in for a hell of a long dry spell. For the first time, I was actually rooting for him instead of trying to catch him doing something inappropriate. I guess it says loads about me as a person that I was rooting for him because I was in a state of somewhat perpetual arousal and I wanted to be able to screw the hell out of him after the party and not because I wanted him to prove he was trustworthy.

  On the day of the bachelor party, it was a bit tricky because Nolan had a day off, so I had to wait until he drove off to get ready for the party. As I showered and then got everything ready, I felt my excitement growing. I checked my hair. I was as red as they came. I put a trench coat I’d purchased just for the evening over the sexy outfit and then drove the hotel. I checked my makeup in the rearview mirror and grabbed the mask but then decided it probably made more sense for me to wear sunglasses as I walked through the lobby. I put them on and grabbed the boom box and the mask and got out of the car. Nervousness hit me hard but I managed to walk through the lobby without shaking too badly. I got to the elevator, pressed the button for the right floor, and leaned against the mirrored walls. I was so damned turned on that I almost decided to throw the whole plan out the window, tell Nolan it was me, and fuck him in the bathroom as soon as possible. I got myself under control when the elevator stopped, though, and I took off the shades, put them in the pocket of the trench coat, and put on the mask.

  I cleared my throat. I was really into acting in college and still occasionally took a community theater role. I wasn’t some future Audrey Hepburn or anything like that but I was pretty good about disguising my voice in a way that made me seem like someone else altogether. Most of the men behind the hotel door were in their thirties, so I figured sultry would be better than bubbly. That meant breathy and lower-pitched. I cleared my throat and envisioned myself as Clitoria and not as me. This was it. Showtime. I knocked on the door, and I heard the noise behind it seem to erupt. The boys were excited about their entertainment. I realized as I waited for the door to open that I hoped they wouldn’t fail the test right away. I knew they’d fail it but I wanted to at least get fifteen or twenty minutes of dancing in first.

  I heard someone on the other side of the door and then Nolan’s smiling face was in view. I smiled at him and said in my Kathleen Turner voice, “I’m pretty sure I’m in the right place.”

  He smiled and nodded. “Everyone’s very excited to have you here.” He opened the door and stepped aside for me to walk in but I only got three steps in when he got in front of me again. “The boys have had a little to drink, so be careful, and I promise you’re going to get a really big tip, even if you have to swat a few hands away or if you need me to put someone’s head in the bathtub.”

  I stared at my husband for a moment and then I smiled brightly. I was pretty damned impressed with him right off the bat. That was an unexpected bonus. I gave him the boom box and asked him to put it by the television and clear some room for me. I’d head to the bathroom, make some final touches on my outfit, and come out dancing. He took the boom box and thanked me, and I turned right and walked into the bathroom. His bathtub comment made a hell of a lot of sense a second later because tub was filled with icy water and beer bottles. A dunk of the head in that thing would straighten anyone out.

  I took a deep breath and hung the trench coat over the towel rack. I did a quick check in the mirror. No problems there. I looked hot as hell, and I also didn’t look like myself. Strangely, the nervousness I’d had before kind of disappeared. I also was encouraged by the very first thing Nolan had said and had confidence that if even is his friends tried to get out of line, Nolan would be getting a pretty exciting and pretty intense reward. I was looking forward to that reward. I was so damned horny, I knew I’d love the reward session just as much as Nolan did. I took a deep breath, cracked open the door, and called out, “Could one of you big strong men come up with the strength to turn on the music, please?”

  Nolan said, “Remember boys, a good marriage is based on trust.” That made me look forward to the reward more than ever, and as the music started I strutted out hoping to make him as horny as hell to make it even better later. I stepped out and stared at the men. They leered at me, and Pat, the groom, said, “You’re right. No. She’s even better than you said.” He was seated on a folding chair, and I could already see the bulge in his pants.

  My husband smiled at me and said, “Clitoria, that guy there is the guest of honor. We thought we’d start out with a lap dance for him. Is that okay?”

  I smiled and said in my sultry voice, “Of course it’s okay.” Then I began dancing over to him. All the old moves came back, and I ran my hands over my body as I made my way there. He stared at me, and when I got close, his bulge was even more prominent. Back when I stripped for a living, I would have made a slower start of things but I was so damned turned on, and that bulge was a big part of the reason, so I climbed right on top of him, straddling him, and threw my head back as I arched my back and moved my hips so that my crotch ran right over his bulge. He moaned and his hands moved up my sides. That was fine. No breasts and no pussy was the general rule. Some strippers didn’t want hands on their asses but I was okay with that. Nobody was crossing a line, and I was so damned desperate for Nolan.

  Evidently, Nolan was desperate for Clitoria because he grabbed my shoulders and pushed me down a bit while Pat’s hands tightened on my waist. I started to cry out but the familial head of my husband’s cock slipped past my lips and muffled any noise. I couldn’t believe he’d not only been the first to cross the line but he was doing it in such an obvious and egregious way. I tried to pull away but the position was awkward, and he kept pushing until he’d entered my throat. While I panicked and tried to figure out what was going on, I felt hands at the waistband of my panties. Whoever it was simply tore them from me. It didn’t take much effort. They were very skimpy and very lacy. As my husband took my throat, all of the boys at the bachelor party got a look at my pussy well ahead of schedule, and before I could even react to that, there were fingers inside of me. I wanted to scream but instead I moaned as they slid in easily because of how aroused I’d already become.

  Naturally everything was shocking but I was in a very awkward position that made reaction difficult. I still straddled Pat but I’d been pulled backwards so I was parallel to the chair with my shins still flush on the cushions. Without hands on me, I would have toppled over, and with hands on me I was essentially immobile.

  And there were hands on me. There were a lot of hands on me. While I tried to figure out how to struggle, they tore at my lingerie, making very quick work of unravelling all of my careful preparation. After about four minutes of fingers moving in my pussy and my husband’s cock repeatedly ramming into my throat I was naked except for the stockings and the heels. I wa
s still bent in that impossible position, and maybe the worst part of all was that I couldn’t see a goddam thing except my husband’s thighs and his balls. I couldn’t see anything else but I sure as hell could feel a whole lot. I could feel that cock stretching my throat, making me gag, and cutting off my breath. I could feel the hands squeezing my breasts, pinching my nipples and running over my sides. I could feel those fingers fucking me with a great deal of speed and force.