Bimbo Wife's Public Fun

by Reed James

  “Then cum, my bimbo slut. My horny wife.”

  “Your horny, bimbo whore!”

  Alice's pussy spasmed about my dick. Her flesh spasmed, milking my dick, making me tremble. My cock rammed into her depths. She bucked so hard as her orgasm fired through her. The friction increased. Such sweet bliss shot through me.

  “Alice,” I groaned.

  “Yes, yes, cum in me,” she moaned. “That's the best part of sex. Feeling the man's jizz flood your holes. Mouth, cunt, ass. I don't care. I love it. I savor it. Mmm, yes. Flood me, Frank. Fill me. I want it!”

  I thrust hard into her. My balls smacked into her taint. The cum boiled out of her. I grunted, kissing my wife hard, claiming her hot mouth. Our tongues dueled as my cum pumped over and over into her snatch. She shuddered, holding me tight as my orgasm reached its heights. I trembled, holding onto the bliss, then I collapsed onto her.

  I held my wife, kissing her, savoring the intimacy. Janet screamed out her orgasm beside us, humping into Becky's mouth while Nicole and Veronica were engaged in their noisy sixty-nine, drenching each other's faces.

  “How did the FDA find out that there are ethical concerns?” Alice whispered as the limo pulled up before our house.

  I frowned. “You think there's a leak?”

  “How else could they have known? None of our investors are at all are unhappy with the results. They love their new bimbo wives.”

  “Someone at the company?” I sat up. “Shit. That makes sense. Someone who thinks it's wrong.”

  “Giving women this level of sexual freedom isn't wrong,” Alice moaned. “Oh, it is wonderful. Trust me. We need to find out how this Ivy Eads learned about it.”

  “I guess you and the others will have to be very persuasive with Director Steffan.”

  Alice giggled. “Oh, we will be.”

  * * *

  Alice Jackman, Chief Research Scientist of BimboTech Chemicals

  My eyes popped open. I immediately stretched my back as I sat up in bed, my naked tits bouncing before me. That always made me giggle. I stared at my tits, loving the way they bounced and slapped together, my nipples hard.

  My pussy wet.

  So wet. Mmm, I was wet and itchy and in need of my husband's cock. Hot, yummy vitamins to start the day and keep me healthy and beautiful. I had to be beautiful for my husband. He was the bestest in the world.

  Frank slept, his face pillowed on Nicole's breasts. She was the lucky wife to share our bed last night. There was a rotation. They circled over and over. Only I got to be in his bed every night. I was the first wife. The bestest wife. His super-smart sciency wife.

  And there was so much work to do. My eyes widened. There was a party tonight. We were throwing it for the super-duper important person. Director Steffan. He made films for the FDA, and we had to get his approval so we could mass produce apples.

  No, no, the bimbo serum. That was what we had to mass produce. Would we sell it in apples?

  The super smart sciency part of my brain, smothered under all the warm, yummy, marshmallowy delight itching from my pussy, laughed. She whispered to me, trying to explain that produce didn't mean fruits and vegetables.

  Which was silly. That was why there was a produce section at the grocery store.

  Which was where I needed to go today. I hopped out of bed, my eyes wide. We needed food for the party. It had to be perfect. We had to get Director Steffan's approval to make his film and show it to the FDA so they would know our product was safe and ethnical. It was very ethnical. Women of all races would enjoy the bimbo serum.

  I rushed out of the bedroom to find Janet, my bestest friend and bestest wife. She was sleeping with Veronica in the smaller bedroom next to mine. I smiled at her sleeping on the bed's edge, sunlight glinting on her cheek, her black hair spilled over Veronica's shoulder.

  I tiptoed to the bed, not wanting to wake up Veronica. I paused by the bed, leaning over it, a big smile on my lips. I brushed aside the hair on Janet's cheek and leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

  Janet sighed, shifting.

  I licked her earlobe, slow and sensual the way she liked it, my large breasts rubbing against her arm. “Sleepyhead, wake up.”

  “Hmm?” Janet murmured as she rolled over onto her back. Her breasts appeared, the sheet slipping down to expose two large mounds of jiggling, delicious flesh. I grabbed them, loving how my fingers sank into them. They were as big as my titties.

  “Come on, tittyhead,” I said, wiggling her breasts, her nipples hardening. “Wakey, wakey.”

  “Alice?” murmured Janet, her blue eyes opening. They were so brilliant, like two gem stones, the blue ones. Sap fires! Though what did burning sap have to do with blue? “What, Alice?”

  “We have to go shopping!” I declared, my voice booming with my excitement, my breasts jiggling beneath me as I thrust my arm into the air above my head.

  Veronica groaned, rolling over on the bed.

  “Oh, no,” I gasped, clapping my hand over my mouth. I didn't mean to wake Veronica. I forgot to be quiet. It was so hard to think when excited. My poor pussy was on fire with the need to go shopping.

  And cum.

  I loved cumming.

  “Come on,” I told her, pinching her nipple. “We have to go to the grocery store and buy food for tonight. We're the first and second wives. It's our job to buy them.”

  “I thought your job was a sciency person,” Janet said. “And mine is wife.”

  “And buying groceries is a wife job, remember.” I giggled. “Now get up. Big party. We have to go, go, go.”

  “Mmm,” Janet said, nuzzling her face against my thighs. “I could use my morning vitamins. Yours smells so yummy.”

  Her tongue licked at my thigh. I shuddered as she climbed higher, nearing my pussy and—

  “No, no, sillyhead. Shopping. We can lick pussies later. Get up.”

  “Fine,” Janet pouted. Then her eyes widened. “But we get to go shopping!”

  Veronica let out a murmur, pulling sheets to her.

  “Shhhh,” I hissed softly. “You'll wake her. It's me and you.”

  “Right, right.” Janet took my hand as she stood up and we headed to the bathroom. We had to make ourselves look beautiful, first.

  It was so hard not to cum in the shower. But I used all my thoughts to avoid it. We soaped quickly, getting all nice and happy. Then we set about putting on our makeup. We were already the most beautifulest women in the world. But makeup made use even more beautifuler. My eyes looked so smoky with the eyeshadow, my green irises vibrant. My hair was a curly mess, and my lips were so red. Just so kissable.

  We dressed in our favorite outfits—tight dresses. I loved the stretchy material clinging to my body. My nipples were so hard, poking at the thin material, and my juices trickled down my thighs. The skirts were short, so if I wasn't careful I would flash my pussy for everyone to see.

  And that would make poor men all hard and erect and in need of my help. And we were supposed to shop, not cum.

  Oh, I loved cumming.

  We grabbed our purses, our heels clicking on the floor as we headed out to the cars. I hadn't driven in so long. This would be so much fun. I opened the garage and found my old Jetta, a cute, red card that Frank promised would be replaced with something fancy.

  It needed to be bimbofied like me.

  I bounced in the seat as I drove to the grocery store, my tits jiggling. They almost touched the steering wheel as I leaned forward, my head snapping from right and left as I drove. Everyone was so happy to see us, honking as we drove through intersections or drove around cars that didn't seem to understand they had to keep moving.

  “Don't red lights mean stop, Alice?” Janet asked as I drove through the intersection, the nice car driving at us was kind enough to honk a greeting as he swerved around us.

  “Why would red mean stop?” I asked with a giggle. “Red means hot. We're hot, so the lights are complimenting us.”

  “Oh,
” nodded Janet. “And the green lights?”

  “Those mean go. Green and go both start with G's.” I rolled my eyes. She was such a bimbo.

  “And yellow lights?” Ahead, the light turned from green to yellow.

  “Yell!” I shouted and happily honked my horn as I made the left turn. A car screeched to a halt and honked at us, the driver waving.

  Janet waved back.

  “See,” I beamed as I turned into the grocery store's parking lot. The car that honked and waved at us, followed us into the parking lot, the driver still waving. I pulled into a parking space, straddling as many white lines as I could. “Let's shop!”

  “Yes,” Janet said as I opened my door, the engine rumbling away.

  “What the fuck?” the driver who waved at us bellowed. He spilled out of his car and froze, his eyes widening. He stared at my body, his jaw dropping.

  “Hi,” I smiled at him. “Are you shopping here today?”

  “I...uh...” He shook his head. “Damn.”

  I cocked my head to the side as Janet came around the car, hooking her arm in mine. He shook his head again. I struck a pose with Janet, my breasts jiggling in my tight, stretchy dress, my pussy so hot as he stared at us.

  “Did you like my driving? Did yo have to come say hi?”

  “Yeah,” the guy groaned. “Damn,” he said again. “I... Damn.” Then he climbed into his car.

  I smiled and waved at him, then Janet and I turned for the store, our heels clicking on the asphalt, our hips swaying. I could feel the stretchy material of my dress clinging to my ass. Since the man was so nice, I made sure to sway as much as possible, hoping he enjoyed the view.

  “Maybe he needed our help,” Janet said, eyes widening. “Maybe we made his cock hard, and he's in pain.”

  “Oh, no,” I gasped, turning around. But the guy was already driving off. “I hope he'll be okay. Maybe his wife will suck his cock and make him feel all better.”

  Janet nodded her head. I had learned from several men that when their cocks grow hard, it was the sexy woman's responsibility for relieving them with her mouth or pussy or even her asshole. I liked all three. My pussy clenched and another trickle of juices leaked down my thighs.

  I really wanted to cum. Maybe we could finger ourselves...

  I shook my head. Shopping. The party was super-duper important. I had to remember that. But it was so hard. My thoughts were coated in a thick, creamy, marshmallowy ache. I wanted to fuck so badly.

  “Come on,” I said, shivering in frustration. “Let's hurry and get all the yummy food we need.”

  “Like what?”

  I blinked. What did we need? “Umm, produce! We should have the best produce for the director. Melons and bananas and carrots.”

  “And cucumbers?”

  I nodded my head. “Of course, cucumbers. And eggplants. And celery.” I pulled on her arm. “Let's hurry.”

  We strolled into the grocery store arm-in-arm. I giggled when Janet gasped at the whooshing sliding door opening before us. She was so forgetful sometimes. I grabbed a cart and pushed it, Janet at my side. Together, we guided it to the produce section, nodding at everyone we passed. There weren't a lot. It was super-duper early. But the few women we walked by watched us with envious eyes, wishing they could be us.

  And they could be for a price. We would make them all so happy and warm and feel so yummy all the time.

  And horny. So very horny. Ooh, I needed to cum so badly.

  We reached the produce section, my tits jiggling we headed to the melon section. We were the only ones in this part of the store. I let go of the cart and grabbed a pair of honeydew melons off the produce table, lifting them up. I gripped the green rinds, holding them before my breasts.

  “How do I know when they're ripe?” I pouted to Janet.

  “Do they feel firm?” a man asked.

  I jumped with a squeak and whirled around and came face to face with a Black man, his chin chiseled, the faint line of a very short beard following his jawline then up his sideburns to his equally short hair. He had such a smile on his lips as he stared at the two melons before me.

  “Do these feel firm enough?” I asked, proffering the melons to him.

  He reached out, his grin growing naughtier. He gave them both a squeeze. “Well, they are a nice pair of melons. Almost as nice as yours.”

  “As mine?” I frowned, glancing down at the two melons in my hand, my breasts rising and falling in my tight, green dress.

  “Oh, yes, you have a pair of ripe melons. Very well developed”

  “These are?” I asked, holding them up, frowning. I didn't understand.

  He shook his head and stared at me. “Are you messing with me, girl?”

  “I would never mess with you, sir,” I said quickly. “I just can't remember what a firm pair of melons feels like.”

  He glanced at Janet. “It's helpful to grab someone else's melons and feel them so you can have a reference. Your friend's melons also look ripe.”

  I glanced at Janet in her red dress, frowning. “But she doesn't have any melons.”

  “No, these are grapefruit,” Janet beamed. “They're the biggest grapes ever. I bet the vines they grow on must be huge.”

  “That's what sciency can do,” I told her sagely. “Grow things very big. Like your tits.”

  Janet giggled.

  “See, those are her melons,” the man said. There was a catch to his words, his eyes a little wide.

  “Ooh,” I said then giggled. “Right, melons are boobies, too. But boobies are so much softer than melons.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I handed the man the melons and squeezed my breasts right through the fabric of my dress. My nipples tingled, sending a wave of heat right down to my pussy. The man groaned as he watched me knead my tits, the top of my dress sliding down, coming closer and closer to popping out my tit.

  “See, these aren't anywhere near as firm as those melons,” I giggled. I cupped my tits in my hand, lifting them up, the fabric of my dress almost stretching down past my nipples, and proffered them to him. “You try.”

  “You want me to squeeze your melons?” the man asked, looking around the store.

  “Yes, so you know,” I said, nodding to him. “You clearly don't remember what a girl's melons feel like.”

  “Damn, I am glad the girl sent me to pick up her tampons,” he muttered, reaching out with his ebony hands. They were large, but my melons were so much larger. He cupped as much as he could, groaning, “Damn,” as he squeezed them. “You are ripe.”

  “Thank you,” I moaned, his palms rubbing on my nipples through the stretchy material of my dress. I groaned, shifting my hips, my pussy getting wetter and wetter. I gripped the melons hard in my hands as he felt my girl-melons.

  His fingers sank into my flesh. He had such strong hands. Pussy juices trickled down my thighs as I grew hornier and hornier. My mind grew so hotter. It was so hard to think with his hands groping my girl-melons.

  “Check mine,” Janet said, pressing up beside him. “Make sure my melons are ripe.”

  “Thank you, Jesus,” the man groaned, letting go of my breasts to grab Janet's. He kneaded them, shuddering, his eyes so wide. “Oh, yes you both have such a ripe pair of melons.”

  “Thank you,” I squealed. “Ooh, that's such a relief to know. I knew they were perfect. Our husband made them that way.”

  “Your husband,” he said then looked around. “Is he here?”

  “No, silly. Wives do the shopping.”

  Janet nodded her head.

  “We have to buy so much produce for the super-duper important party tonight,” I added. “A director's coming to our house to make a movie with us.”

  “Uh-huh,” groaned the man. “What's your name, girl?”

  “Alice. And she's Janet.”

  “I'm Janet.” Janet nodded, still squirming as the man groped her breasts.

  “Well, I'm Kent, and I am a produce expert.”

  “Wow
,” I gushed.

  “Do you girls need cucumbers?” he asked.

  I nodded my head rapidly.

  “And you know the perfect way to test if a cucumber is ripe?”

  “What?” I asked.

  He lowered his voice as he said, “Well, it's something pretty naughty.”

  “We like naughty,” Janet breathed, leaning her head in with mine. I felt so wicked. Like we were spyders trading secrets in a spyder flick, like one of those Jason Bourne movies. Wicked, naughty spyders.

  “You have to stick them into your pussy and see if they feel like a cock,” Kent said. He paused, licking his lips, breathing in and out swiftly.

  “Wow,” I gasped. “I had no idea.” My pussy clench.”

  “And since cucumbers are so big, you need a big cock to compare it to. And luckily,” he said, grinning, “I have a huge one. If you'd girls would like to feel it—”

  Before he could finish, I squealed, “Yes!” I grabbed my skirt and hiked it up over my ass, revealing my hairless, dripping pussy. I leaned back on the produce table, my legs spread wide, my ass brushing the cold melons. “Just ram it right in. Let me feel your dick so I can know.”

  “Damn,” the guy said as I seized his shoulders and pulled him to me. “Right here?”

  Janet's hand already rubbed at his crotch. She smiled at me. “He's definitely cucumber thick.”

  “Oh, goody, I love Black cocks,” I moaned. “They're so big and huge and big. They make me go kablam.”

  “Shit,” the guy panted. “Right here? You girls are something else.”

  I groaned as his big, Black cock spilled out gripped in Janet's pale hand. She stroked his shaft as she brought him to my pussy. She was such a helpful wife. I was so glad Kent was here to teach us this wonderful technique.

  The tip of his Black dick rubbed at the wet folds of my pussy. My eyes widened as he slid into my married cunt. Such wonderful, marshmallowy delight rippled out of my pussy and through my body as his dick slid deeper and deeper into me.

  “Oh, you're so thick,” I gasped as he speared into my depths, yummy pleasure surging through my body.

  “Damn,” the guy groaned. “I can't believe I'm fucking a married bimbo on the produce table at Lucky's.”

  “Uh-huh,” Janet said. Then she giggled. “Maybe that's why it's called lucky.”