I felt nervous, this being our first function at the club. My wife Jen and I didn’t fit into this crowd of ultra-rich people. We joined this exclusive country club about a month ago so I could get to know people like this, to help me at work.
Jen looked as nervous as me. Not only were we poor compared to all these rich people, but also much younger. I was 29 and Jen 26, while everyone else was at least 15 years older.
I chatted with a distinguished black man who introduced himself as Victor. As we spoke, my attention was drawn to a beautiful woman standing across the room. She was tall with long dark hair, and wore an elegant off-the-shoulder cocktail dress that ended about mid-thigh.
Unlike my blonde wife Jen, who’s petite and small breasted, this woman had a classic hour glass figure, with large breasts and curvy hips. Her legs weren’t slim like Jen’s, but they were shapely and looked great in her stiletto high heels.
The woman eased herself into a seat at the bar. She ordered a drink, and as she did she crossed her legs. This made her dress hike up her thighs, but she quickly adjusted and pulled her dress back down her legs.
My eyes grew wide. For an instant, just before the woman pulled her dress down, her stocking tops were exposed, the dark welts of the sheer nude nylons straining against the straps of her black garter belt.
I’ve never known a woman who wore real stockings, the kind that’s held up with a garter belt. I’ve seen them often enough in adult movies or on the internet, but I’ve never met a woman who wore them in public, in real life. I’ve encouraged Jen to wear them, but in our entire relationship she’s worn them only once, on our wedding day. Usually she goes without hose, or wears pantyhose, like tonight.
I felt myself stiffening, my full attention drawn to the woman. She looked to be latino, with a dark exotic complexion. Her lips were full and painted bright red, and her large breasts almost spilled over the top of her strapless dress. My eyes focused on her legs. I hoped she’d cross her legs again, so I could glimpse her stocking tops again.
Victor saw my distraction, and followed my eyes to the sensual woman. He smiled knowingly, and gestured to the woman. The woman looked at Victor, and then at me. She smiled. She slipped off the chair, and once again I glimpsed a hint of her stocking tops. Then she began walking towards us. The ballroom was loud, but I imagined hearing the click-click of her high heels as she elegantly walked across the hardwood floor towards us.
I panicked. Victor had caught me ogling this sensuous woman, and now he was going to embarrass me in front of everyone. I looked around for Jen, and found her just a few feet away, speaking to another couple. I hoped her conversation would continue while I dealt with this situation.
The woman arrived and stood in front of us, an almost teasing smile on her full lips. In her high heels she was taller than me, but came to just Victor’s chest.
“Monique,” Victor said, gesturing to me. “I’d like you to meet Michael.”
Then Victor looked at me. “Michael, this is Monique, my wife.”
His wife?! My cheeks flushed red in embarrassment. “Hi, ah, nice to meet you,” I managed to say as I extended my hand.
Monique took my hand in hers, her touch light. “The pleasure is mine,” she said as she looked into my eyes. Then, just before releasing my hand, she dug her long red nails into my palm. Sparks ran up my spine, and I gratefully grabbed a glass of wine from a passing waiter.
Monique looked questioning behind me. “Where’s your lovely wife? Jennifer, isn’t it?”
“That’s right,” I said, surprised. How did she know my wife’s name? But then I remembered the club emailed a newsletter listing all the new members, with our pictures. I turned and gestured to Jen. “Honey, this is Victor and Monique.”
Jen shook their hands, and we chatted about ourselves, while they entertained us with gossip about the club and its members. Victor and Monique made a physically striking couple. He looked like he stepped out of GQ, and she Vogue magazine.
The cover band played a popular song, and Monique took my hand. “Jen, you don’t mind if I dance with your husband, do you?”
Jen looked a little drunk, having had more than her share of wine. “Not at all,” she said giggling.
“No need to worry,” Victor said to me as he waved us away. “I’ll keep your wife company.”
I led Monique onto the crowded dance floor. Feeling awkward, I took Monique’s hand in mine. Then, I hesitantly placed my other hand on her hip, making sure to stay well above the swell of her shapely ass.
Monique smiled and we began to dance. She was an excellent dancer, sensually swaying to the music. The silky, barely-there material of her dress left little to the imagination, and I quickly realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. I also felt the outline of her garter belt around her waist, and the effect on me (and my manhood) was what you’d expect.
The growing crowd pressed us together. I was embarrassed; certain Monique could feel my erection pressing against her stomach. But she didn’t pull away. If anything, Monique pressed closer against me. I looked down, seeing the swells of her large breasts. Her hard, braless nipples caused dents in the filmy material of her dress. Monique saw me looking down her dress. She looked into my eyes, and smiled invitingly.
The dance ended, and I let Monique go. Not because I wanted to, but because I didn’t know what else to do. “We … ah … I guess we better get back.”
Monique smiled seductively. She reached inside my jacket, and ran her long red nails along my side. “Wouldn’t you like to take me for a walk? The moon is lovely tonight.”
My body tingled from Monique’s touch. And my head spun. Was she propositioning me? “Um … I … ah … I better get back to Jen.”
Monique pouted. “Alright,” she finally said, sounding disappointed, but not angry. Then she took my arm, and let me lead her back to our spouses.
Later that night, I fucked my wife like I hadn’t fucked her in years. As soon as we got home, I threw Jen onto the sofa, pushing her dress up around her waist while simultaneously pulling my cock out of my pants. I pulled her pantyhose and panties down her legs, not bothering to take them off completely, and then rammed my rock hard cock into her pussy. It didn’t take me long to cum. I would’ve felt guilty except Jen came just as fast, which surprised me.
We went to our bedroom and fucked again. Again this surprised me. To be honest, our sex life hadn’t been good for a while. We’ve been together for 8 years, married for 5, and like most married couples our sex life waned after a few years. Nowadays we might do it once a week, but often only as the culmination of watching a porn movie on cable. So doing it twice in less than an hour really surprised me.
I knew what got me so hot. It was Monique. But Jen’s sudden passion surprised me. It didn’t take long before I understood why.
After our lovemaking, we spooned in bed. Jen was so quiet I assumed she had fallen asleep.
“I need to tell you something,” she finally said, trepidation in her voice.
Jen turned to face me, looking nervous. “Tonight … while you were dancing with Monique. Victor made a pass at me.”
I almost jumped off the bed. “What?! What did he do?”
Jen hesitated, then finally said, “After you left with Monique, he asked me to dance. I must’ve been a little drunk, because I didn’t notice as he led me into a side room.” Jen described how Victor had kissed and fondled her. He groped her tits, and reached under her dress.
“How far did he go?” I asked angrily, picturing Victor’s black hand between my wife’s legs.
“He … he cupped me,” Jen said.
“But then I pushed him away,” she quickly added. “And I ran out of the room.”
Anger flared inside me. How dare Victor take advantage of my wife!
But then something Jen said struck me. “What do you mean, THEN you pushed him away?” I said accusingly. “You weren’t fighting before that? You let him touch you?”
“Michael, no,” Jen pleaded, grapping my arm. “It wasn’t like that at all. I guess I was drunk. It took me a minute to realize what was happening. As soon as I did, I pushed him away and ran from the room.”
I let it go, not challenging Jen further. But I knew she was lying. Victor had aroused her. That’s why she had been so horny tonight. I felt jealous, and mad. I considered telling Jen about Monique, but something held me back. I spooned Jen again, and with the assurance of my arm around her, she quickly fell asleep. But I laid awake late into the night, thinking of Monique.
I couldn’t get my mind off Monique. I masturbated more than once fantasizing about her, and the next time Jen and I made love, I orgasmed thinking of Monique.
I was still mad at Victor for groping Jen, but it also mystified me why he’d risk a pass at another woman when he had a wife like Monique. Don’t get me wrong. My wife is pretty, and she keeps in shape. Her breasts are shapely (although small), her stomach is flat, and she has great legs.
But Monique is something else. While Jen is pretty in a cute kind of way, Monique’s beauty is sensual and sophisticated. While Jen is slim and petite, Monique is curvy and voluptuous.
My wife dresses conservatively. She usually wears pants, and when she wears a skirt it goes to her knees. She never wears tight jeans or snug sweaters. Her lingerie is full coverage, cotton bras and panties. She never dresses to take advantage of her best features — her tight ass and long legs. I’ve encouraged her to dress nicer, but she never has. The funny thing is, Jen’s not a prude. I wasn’t her first lover. She doesn’t mind giving me head, and she likes watching porn with me. It’s just not in my wife’s nature to think about dressing sexy.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Monique. I remembered the charge I felt when I realized Monique was braless under her strapless dress. I don’t think Jen’s ever gone braless. And the feel of Monique’s garter belt as my hand rested on her waist, and the glimpses I got of Monique’s stocking tops.
The next club mixer was a week away. I felt guilty for thinking so much about Monique, so I took some money out of the bank and encouraged Jen to get a new outfit for the event. The night of the mixer, I barely managed to hide my disappointment when Jen walked out of our bedroom. She had bought another shapeless, knee length black dress. I inwardly sighed, knowing with certainly what she wore underneath. Black cotton bra, black cotton panties, and black pantyhose. But I was encouraged when I saw Jen’s new shoes. Usually she wears flats or low heeled pumps. But she had bought black patent leather high heels. They must have been 2 or even 3 inches high. Not exactly fuck-me-pumps, but sexier than she’d ever worn before, and they made her shapely legs look even better.
Victor and Monique greeted us as soon as we walked into the crowded club, and they insisted we sit at their table. Things were a little awkward at first, but after a few drinks the tension seemed to pass.
I had trouble keeping my eyes off Monique. She wore a tight black satin dress that was held up by two thin spaghetti straps. The dress ended around mid thigh, and her long legs were encased in sheer black stockings. The dress was so tight I could clearly see the bumps of her garter straps. I was grateful for the floor length table cloth, to hide the tent in my pants. I feared Jen would notice all my glances at Monique, but thankfully her attention seemed drawn elsewhere.
I had just raised my glass to my lips, when I felt a sharp object press against the soft leather of my shoe. I immediately recognized the pressure as the stiletto of a high heel. Was Jen playing with me under the table? She hadn’t done anything like that before. I looked at my wife across the table. She and Victor were talking, her expression serious. It wasn’t her.
But that meant it was Monique. I glanced at her. She looked at me briefly, but then turned away, a smile on her face. It WAS her!
I pictured in my mind her shoes. They were black stilettos, like the ones Jen had just purchased, but higher, maybe 4 inches, and they showed a lot of toe cleavage. The reality of Monique pressing those sexy heels against me got me even harder.
As if to read my thoughts, Monique dug her stiletto hard into my shoe, so hard I almost yelped in pain. The pressure eased, leaving me feeling disappointed. But then I felt the pointy toe of Monique’s heels touch my ankle. Monique slowly ran that pointy toe up the leg of my pants, moving up past my sock until it pressed against the bare skin of my calf. My cock throbbed in my pants. She touched me like that for a few minutes, and then she pulled away. I thought the game had ended, and part of me was glad, as my heart pounded so wildly I feared a heart attack.
But then I felt her touch again. But when I realized what she was doing I almost came in my pants. She had slipped off her shoe, and now her stockinged foot was traveling up my pants leg. My cock pressed so hard against my pants it hurt. For the next 15 minutes, Monique caressed me with her foot. Chills ran up my spine as she scrapped the seam of her stockings that ran along her toes over my bare skin.
I feared Jen would notice my heavy breathing, and the beads of sweat on my forehead. Thankfully she was still distracted by her conversation with Victor.
Abruptly, Jen pulled her chair back and got up. “I have to go to the ladies room,” she said, looking a little flushed.
“I’ll go with you,” said Monique cheerfully. Monique hesitated a moment — I knew she was putting her heels back on under the table — and then she walked with Jen to the ladies room.
I felt awkward around Victor, having played footsies with his wife just moments ago. He looked at me, and I prepared myself for his accusations.
But then he smiled, and leaned across the table, like he wanted to share a secret. “My wife is very attracted to you,” he said.
I blushed red, shocked at his words and embarrassed at being caught. “What? I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“It’s okay Mike,” he said, still smiling. “No need to worry, I’m cool. Monique and I have an arrangement.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, knowing how stupid I must sound.
“An arrangement. I suppose you’d call it an open marriage.”
“An open marriage?” I said, shocked. “You mean, you and Monique sleep with other people?”
“Well, not sleep,” Victor said, laughing. “But I think you get the picture.”
Victor’s tone became serious. “Like I said, Monique’s attracted to you. Really attracted to you. I mean, you’re all she’s talked about since we met you. And I’m fairly certain you’re attracted to her. So, if you’d like to get together with her, I’d be okay with that.”
I was momentarily speechless, not believing a woman as alluring and sensuous as Monique could be attracted to me. “Don’t you get jealous? Your wife, attracted to another man? Having sex with another man?”
Victor shrugged. “Like I said, we have an open marriage. It works both ways.”
My eyes narrowed. “Soooo … you’d want to sleep with Jen?”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t have to be that way. I’m attracted to your wife, sure, she’s cute. But if she’s not into it, or if you’d rather not tell her, then it could be just you and Monique.” He smiled conspiratorially at me. “Mike, to tell you the truth, Monique’s insatiable; she wants sex all the time. You’d be doing me a favor by spending the night with her. I’d hit the ESPN club and have a few beers and watch the game.”
“I, ah, I don’t know. We’ve never done anything like this. And I’ve never cheated on Jen.”
Victor shrugged. “You only live once, buddy,” he said. “Monique’s a special girl. You know, she used to be a model? She was in a couple of Sports Illustrated swimsuit issues, about 10 years ago. What I’m saying is … look, Jen’s a sweet girl. She’s cute, and she probably turns heads now and then. But Monique’s special. When she walks into a room, every male dick gets hard. She’s had that effect on you, right? So you know what I mean. Well my friend, Monique wants you, but she’s a fickle bitch. If you wait too long, she may be on to the next guy. So think about it, but don’t think too long.”
I did think about it, later that night as I fucked Jen, the memory of Monique’s stiletto heels against my bare flesh still fresh in my mind. Once again Jen seemed more passionate than usual, and I wondered if Victor had played with her under the table, the way Monique had played with me. The thought of Victor’s large black hands on my wife bothered me, but my burning lust for Monique pushed away those jealous feelings.
I’ve always been a jealous husband. Jen and I met in college. I was a bookish, geeky junior, and she a leggy blonde, a popular freshman and former prom queen and cheerleader. I tutored her in math, and by the end of the year we were a couple. Her friends were shocked she liked me, and to tell you the truth, so was I. I guess it’s true opposites attract. Back in college, guys hit on her all the time, and that continued after we married. It always bothered me, but I’m certain she never cheated on me, and I’ve never cheated on her. I’ve never even considered having sex with another woman.
Until now. My lust for Monique consumed me. How could I be so vulnerable to Monique’s charms? Maybe because my sex life with Jen had cooled. They say married couples go through phases, but this phase had lasted over 2 years. We still loved each other, and were even thinking about kids. Jen had gone off the pill a few months ago. We weren’t trying to get pregnant, but we weren’t trying not to either. But while the love remained, the passion had left our relationship.
Maybe the lack of passion in my marriage helped fuel my lust for Monique. I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I found those SI swimsuit issues on the internet, and when I saw the pictures of Monique my jaw dropped. She was magnificent, wearing skimpy string bikinis that left little to the imagination. She hadn’t aged much. Maybe her face looked a little older now, but her breasts were still large and firm, her stomach flat, her ass tight and her legs long and shapely.
I was hugely disappointed when Jen said she didn’t want to go to the next club mixer. She didn’t offer an explanation. Instead of going to the club, we went to dinner and a movie. The phone rang as soon as we got home.
“Hello Mike,” I heard Victor say on the phone. “Monique and I missed you and Jen tonight. We’re in your neighborhood. We’d love to stop by to say hello.”
I put my hand over the phone, my heart racing. “It’s Victor,” I said to Jen, trying to hide my excitement. “He and Monique are in the neighborhood, and asked to stop by.”
Jen looked like a deer caught in the headlights, her face a mixture of surprise, apprehension, excitement and fear. At the time, being so blinded by my lust for Monique, Jen’s reaction didn’t register with me. I was trying so hard to hide my excitement of seeing Victor’s wife again, I wasn’t paying attention to the signs from my own wife.
“We should invite them over,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. “They’re just down the street. We don’t want to be rude.”
Jen started to say something, and then shrugged, looking resigned. I smiled excitedly, and told Victor to come up to our apartment.
“I guess I better change,” Jen said. I didn’t know what she meant. We’d just gotten home from our date night, and Jen was already dressed for an evening out, in a skirt and blouse, and pumps.
But I nodded and said, “Sure,” happy that Jen had agreed to Victor and Monique’s visit.
Jen disappeared for about 15 minutes, and when she emerged from our bedroom my jaw almost dropped. She looked fantastic. She wore a snug fitting turtleneck, and a short skirt. A mini-skirt! I hadn’t ever seen Jen wear anything so short, and the skirt did a great job showing off her long shapely legs. She had put on hose (pantyhose, I was sure), and also the high heels she had worn to the last club mixer.
“You look great, honey,” I said, still shocked at what I saw. “Is that a new outfit?”
She nodded hesitantly. “Um … yeah. I had some money left over after buying these shoes. Do you like?”
I began to nod, but then the door buzzed. I opened the door and shook hands with Victor, and then he passed me to greet Jen. As he did I got my first glimpse of Monique.
It would not be an exaggeration to say she looked breathtaking. She wore a form fitting red dress that swooped in the front, and plunged in the back. She wore black hose and black high heels. Her hair was up, treating me to an unimpeded view of her long graceful neck. She greeted me with a kiss on the cheek, and I was engulfed in her sensuous perfume.
Monique’s lips lingered on my cheek, making me almost shudder with excitement. Then Monique trailed her lips lightly across my cheek towards my lips, but at the last moment she teasingly pulled away. I glanced nervously behind Monique, fearful of my wife’s anger. But Victor had taken Jen with him into the kitchen to make drinks.
Monique took my arm and led me to the sofa. Her dress was so short it couldn’t possibly hide lace top stockings. I was certain she wore pantyhose underneath. But when she sat and crossed her legs, I was treated to a glimpse of her stocking tops.
Monique took my hand and placed it on her thigh. I felt the outline of her garter straps.
I didn’t need to touch her back to know she was braless, as I did that first time when we danced. The back of her dress plunged to just above her ass. There was no way she could be wearing a bra. If that wasn’t enough, I could see the bumps in her dress, where her nipples pushed against the silky fabric.
Monique placed her soft hand against my chest. “You’re shaking,” she said.
I was shaking, from excitement. I had never been so aroused.
Monique slid off the sofa to stand in front of me. She rested one knee on the sofa, next to me, and then moved her other leg until its knee also rested on the sofa, on the other side of me. She was straddling me with her long stockinged legs.
My heart pounded. I looked nervously towards the kitchen. “Jen’ll be back soon,” I said concerned.
Monique put her finger on my lips. “Don’t worry,” she reassured me. “Victor will keep your wife busy.”
I knew what that meant, of course. Victor was having his way with my wife, or at least trying to. But I wanted Monique so much. Any lingering jealousy and concern I had for Victor with my wife disappeared as Monique brought her hands to the edge of her dress, and then slowly — ever so slowly — pulled her dress up.
I almost came in my pants as Monique’s shapely, stocking-clad legs came into full view. Her dress was like a curtain, rising so my eyes could feast on her legs. Monique raised her dress until I could see her heavy laced stocking tops, then her thighs above her stockings with the bare skin covered by only the straps of her garter belt. Monique lingered there a moment, but finally she raised her dress more, letting me see her panties. Not the full coverage cotton panties my wife wore. But barely-there silk panties, a tiny triangle of sheer black lace with the wisp of a string on each side.
With her dress bundled around her waist, Monique leaned over and kissed me. She explored my mouth with her hot tongue. “Unzip me,” she begged. I found her zipper and pulled down, and then her bare breasts were before me. They were magnificent, large and full, yet so firm, capped by dark areolas surrounding eraser sized nipples. I squeezed and fondled her, and sucked her hard nipples in my mouth.
Monique moaned, and then reached between us and cupped my hard-on. “I’ve wanted to feel this since that first time we danced,” she moaned into my ear. She unzipped me and pulled me out, and softly stroked me. I threw my head back, almost convulsing with the pleasure of Monique’s soft touch.
Suddenly I became aware of grunts and cries coming from the kitchen. It was Jen’s voice, and it sounded like she was in pain. “It’s Jen, she’s hurt,” I said, pulling away from Monique.
“No, she’s okay,” Monique assured me, urging me back into the sofa. “Victor will take care of her, she’ll enjoy it, you’ll see.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, but my concern for my wife ebbed away as Monique teased my balls and stroked my shaft.
Jen’s cries turned to moans. Long soulful moans, moans that begged for more, moans of the type I have never before heard from my wife.
“See?” Monique said smiling. “Victor will take care of her.”
Then Monique slid to her knees and took me into her mouth, and within moments I forgot all about my wife, in the kitchen, with Victor.
I awoke the next morning in the guest bedroom. At some point Monique and I had moved there from the sofa. Monique wasn’t in bed, and wasn’t in the rest of the apartment either. I guessed she and Victor left earlier.
Monique had been incredible. Her body was amazing, and so was her technique. She knew just want to do and when to do it to heighten my excitement and pleasure. She made me cum multiple times, more times than I thought possible in the span of just a few hours.
But in the clarity that always follows sexual satisfaction, my thoughts focused on my wife Jen, not my new lover Monique. Victor had fucked her. That was clear from all the moans and grunts I heard coming from our master bedroom, and based on how long the moaning continued into the night, there was no doubt he fucked Jen multiple times.
I made 2 mugs of coffee, and then opened the door to our bedroom. Jen was awake, sitting up in the bed and looking blankly at the wall, as if in shock. She had her knees pulled up against her chest, and the blanket pulled to just below her chin. I handed her a mug and joined her in bed.
An awkward silence separated us. “Last night was crazy,” I finally said.
Jen nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“I got the impression they’ve done that before. I mean, swapped partners.”
Jen nodded again, but still didn’t say anything.
I remembered the cries I had heard the night before. I touched her arm. “Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head. “No, he didn’t hurt me,” she said softly.
“So … you liked it?”
She hesitated, started to say something then stopped. Finally she shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said, still looking at the wall. “It was different.”
She looked at me. “Did you like it?”
I hesitated too, afraid the truth would hurt her feelings. “Like you said, it was different,” I finally said.
Jen studied me for long moments, and then nodded.
The phone rang. I picked it up and listened for a few minutes, and then hung up. “That was Victor. He said they had a great time last night. He invited us to their place next Saturday.”
The thought of being with Monique again got me hard. But I tried to hide my excitement.
Jen looked at me. “Do you want to go?”
I shrugged, and tried to keep my voice neutral. “One more time might be fun.”
Jen looked at me searchingly. “Well … okay,” she said, her voice soft and so low I could barely hear her. “One more time.”
The week passed slowly, as my anticipation for another evening with Monique kept me constantly hard. I fretted about Jen with Victor again, but my consuming lust for Monique help me bury my jealousy.
Victor and Monique arrived. As always, Monique looked luscious, showing plenty of cleavage and leg. She came to me and we kissed hello.
We chatted as we waited for Jen to finish dressing. We joked about the costumes we were planning to wear at the upcoming Halloween party at the club. I told them I was thinking of dressing as Harry Potter, and I was trying to talk Jen into dressing as a school girl.
“Young school girls turn you on, do they?” Monique asked flirtatiously, coming to me and wrapping her arm around my waist. “You’re such a bad boy. I love it.”
Monique’s arm was still around me when Jen emerged from our bedroom. My jaw dropped when I saw her. She looked incredible. She wore a lycra black dress that clinged to her body. It ended around mid-thigh, and her long shapely legs were encased in sheer black hose. Sexy curly strands of her blonde hair framed her pretty face, and she wore bright red lipstick.
I was stunned. Could this sexy, alluring woman be my wife? I wanted to hold and kiss her, to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. But my arm was still around Monique. Jen hesitated as she took in the situation, seeing me with Monique and Victor standing alone. Then she walked by me and went to Victor, kissing him hello.
We left our apartment and walked to the waiting limo. Before leaving the apartment we re-aligned ourselves to walk with our spouses, since people we knew were everywhere. As we walked to the limo I wanted to tell Jen she looked gorgeous, but she seemed standoffish so I didn’t get a chance.
Jen and I sat together in the limo, and Victor and Monique sat facing us. They poured champagne, and I clumsily spilled a little on my shirt.
“Oh, you poor thing, let me help you,” Monique cooed. She moved over to me and knelt on the thickly carpeted floor as she dabbed the spill with a napkin.
“Hey, I’m getting lonely over here,” Victor said with a smile.
“It’s okay,” Monique assured Jen as she rubbed my chest with the napkin. “I’ll take good care of Michael.”
Jen smiled (although it looked a little forced), and then she joined Victor. Monique joined me on my seat, and snuggled into my arm. Despite being so close to this former SI swimsuit model, I couldn’t keep my eyes off my wife. I couldn’t get over how stunning she looked. I had never seen her show so much leg, and they looked more fabulous than ever in the sheer black hose.
My attention was drawn back to Monique, as I felt her hand drop to my leg. She leaned into me and nuzzled my neck, as her hand moved up my leg, finally cupping my crotch.
Jen watched as Monique fondled me. I almost jumped when I felt Monique rub me, and as always her touch made me almost shudder with pleasure, but with Jen sitting just across from us I tried to hide my pleasure, and instead I laughed nervously.
Jen showed a hint of a frown, and looking into my eyes, she took Victor’s hand and placed it on her thigh. That was all the encouragement Victor needed, and immediately he began caressing Jen’s thigh.
It was bad enough to see Victor’s hand on my wife’s thigh. But watching that large black hand moved up her leg towards the bottom of her dress was more than I could take. I was about to rescue my wife when Monique slid between my legs. In what seemed like a single motion, she pulled out my cock and took me into her mouth.
It felt good to be inside Monique’s warm mouth, her tongue soft and probing. She was an expert cock-sucker. Despite what Victor was doing to my wife, I couldn’t help but moan and throw my head back into the seat.
Monique was amazing, working me to the brink of orgasm and then easing up, keeping me on the edge of cumming for long excruciating minutes. I panted as Monique teased me, giving me slivers of pleasure while denying me the orgasm I craved.
As I struggled for breath, I looked over to Victor and Jen. I had almost forgotten about them. Victor’s mouth covered Jen’s, and his hand was under her skirt. He pushed his hand against Jen’s thigh. Understanding what Victor wanted, Jen uncrossed her legs. Victor moved his hand from Jen’s outer thigh to her inner, and continued his upward journey this time between my wife’s legs, edging her dress higher and higher as he moved.
My eyes grew wide as I saw what Jen wore under her dress. She was wearing real stockings! And as Victor pushed her dress higher, I saw the stockings were attached to the straps of what surely was a garter belt! I couldn’t believe it. Other than our wedding day, Jen had never worn real stockings, much less a garter belt.
The sight of my wife in such sexy lingerie pushed me over the edge. I convulsed and shot my load into Monique’s mouth.
Victor’s hand disappeared under Jen’s dress. Jen moaned and arched her back, a clear signal Victor had reached her panties and was fingering her. Jen writhed as Victor played with her. Victor moved Jen’s hand to his crotch. “Take me out and stroke me,” he commanded.
Until that moment I hadn’t noticed the huge tent formed in Victor’s pants. Jen unzipped him and reached inside.
“Easy, easy!” he exclaimed as she began pulling him out. Jen tried again, being more careful and going slower, and this time she managed to pull him out.
My eyes grew wide at the sight of Victor’s cock! He was huge, at least twice as long and thick as mine, with thick veins running up the sides and capped by a large bulbous head. There was no way my petite wife could get that huge monster inside her.
Seeming to read my mind, Victor grinned at me. “Don’t worry, she liked it last time. She had to get used to it, but by the end she was loving it, weren’t you babe?”
But Jen didn’t answer. Instead, her body tensed as she orgasmed from Victor’s finger fucking.
We arrived at Victor and Monique’s house (mansion better describes it). We had a drink and were about to separate into separate bedrooms when I pulled Victor aside.
“You know, we haven’t talked about birth control,” I said to him. In the spontaneity of our first swap, I didn’t get a chance to tell him Jen wasn’t on any birth control.
Victor smiled and clapped me on the shoulder. “All taken care of, buddy, no need to worry.” I smiled back. I had already assumed that, at his age, he had long ago gotten a vasectomy, but it was good to hear him confirm it.
We separated into different bedrooms. Once again Monique was incredible, and I came multiple times. She didn’t make me wear a condom, but I made sure to pull out, especially since she always welcomed my cum on her beautiful face. ******************************************
The next few days were strained between me and Jen. By unspoken agreement we didn’t talk about what we did behind closed doors with Victor and Monique. Seeing my wife with another man bothered me too much, and I sensed my being with another woman bothered Jen as well.
I rationalized our swinging as a phase we were going through. We were still young, and it was good to get these things out of our system. But, as far as I was concerned, this phase of our marriage was over.
I had asked Jen when she had bought the new dress and lingerie. Jen told me Victor had bought them for her, and sent them to her office. That made me furious. I didn’t like another man buying my wife clothes, and sending them to her behind my back. But I hid my anger, knowing I had no right to be mad given what I had done with Monique.
Monique was a jaw-dropping beauty; there was no doubt about that. But it was Jen I kept thinking about. She had looked incredible in that tight black dress, and the recent memory of her shapely legs in the black thigh high stockings was etched in my mind. Maybe in the years of our marriage I had forgotten how sexy and pretty my wife was. Maybe instead of asking Jen to wear tight skirts and garter belts, I should have bought them for her, and then she would have worn them for me, like she had for Victor.
Monique was something else. A part of me – okay, a big part – still lusted over her. But having to share my wife with Victor was too high a price to pay. I decided to quit the country club, and end our relationship with Victor and Monique.
I closed my office door and took the elevator down to my car. We went down 5 floors, and then 3 people got in, two guys my age and a young schoolgirl. The girl wore a sweet pink bow in her long dark hair, and a school uniform, with a jacket over a crisp white blouse and a short pleated skirt. The skirt was short and the girl had shapely, long legs. She wore white, knee high socks and classic saddle shoes. I felt guilty for ogling such a young girl, but I saw the other two guys were salivating over her as well.
The 2 guys got off the elevator, leaving me alone with the young girl. Seeing only a partial profile, she looked to be 15 or 16. “Jail-bait,” I thought to myself, silently chuckling.
Then the girl turned to me, and my heart skipped a beat. It was Monique!
She smiled at me. “Do you like?” she asked as she sweetly pirouetted on her tip toes. “You said you liked young school girls, remember?”
I stood speechless. Monique must have been in her mid-thirties, but with the pink bow in her hair and no make-up, she easily passed for a high school freshman or sophomore.
I looked at her again, my eyes moving from the pink bow in her hair, to the saddle shoes on her feet. She looked exactly like a school girl returning home from school. But looking closer, I saw subtle differences. Her white blouse was conservatively buttoned almost to her neck, but the material was so light, I could see the lace of her white bra. Her skirt was shorter than what a real high schooler would wear, not even falling to mid-thigh. And she wore ultra sheer nude stockings. Were they pantyhose, or could she possibly be wearing a garter belt under such an innocent outfit?
“Oh, my shoe’s come untied,” she said, moving one leg in front of the other. “Could you tie it for me?”
As in a hypnotic dream, I pushed the HOLD button on the elevator, and then got on my knees and tied her shoe. As I did she rubbed her calf against my cheek. The feel of her school girl knee high socks against my skin sent shivers down my spine. I ran my hands over her newly tied saddle shoe, over her white knee high sock, and then onto her knees, feeling the silkiness of the sheer nude nylons.
“You’re a naughty man,” she said in a school girl voice as she pressed her stocking-clad thigh against my face. “You shouldn’t be touching me like that.”
I kissed her silky thigh, while my hands traveled up her shapely leg. She pressed the toe of her saddle shoe against my crotch, making me grimace with pain but also shudder with pleasure.
“What are you doing?” she said, feigning shock and fear as my hands passed the lacy tops of her stockings and moved to her bare thighs above. She WAS wearing thigh highs and a garter belt! Monique rubbed my hard-on with the sole of her saddle shoe, the feel of the classic school girl shoe being more erotic than the stiletto of a Manolo Blanik fuck-me-pump.
I pushed her skirt up to reveal lacy white panties that no doubt matched her bra. I saw with satisfaction that her panties were damp, her clit forming a camel toe in the soft material.
“No, no,” Monique protested as I pulled her panties aside and darted my tongue between the folds of her hairless pussy. “No, don’t do that,” she said as I pulled one of her shapely legs over my shoulder, opening her wider for my exploring tongue.
“No, stop touching me there, it’s naughty,” she moaned as I licked her clit. “No, it’s bad, it’s bad,” she protested as she cradled the back of my head with her hands and pulled me closer to her. Suddenly Monique’s body tensed and I felt her shudder as an orgasm ripped through her body.
“You little slut,” I sneered, enjoying this school girl fantasy. “You liked that, didn’t you? You liked my tongue on your clit. You liked it so much you came.”
“No, no,” Monique said as she pretended to sob. “I’ve never done that before.”
“Liar!” I tore open her blouse, the little white buttons flying everywhere. I squeezed her large tits in my hands. “You’re a little slut, a whore, you let all the boys touch you. Next you’ll say you’ve never let anyone touch these before.”
“I haven’t!” she said, pretending to cry. “Stop, please, stop,” she said, but through her bra I could feel her nipples stiffening.
I reached down and ripped off her panties. Then I pulled one of her legs to my side, at the same time unzipping my pants and pulling out by hard dick.
“No, no,” Monique begged, feeling my erection against her. “I’m saving myself for my husband. Please don’t.”
I shoved my cock into Monique’s wet pussy. My lust consumed me, like a wildfire burning unchecked through a field of dry grass. Monique was magnificent! It felt like I was really fucking a school girl! Fucking a virgin!
“Please, don’t shoot inside me,” Monique the young school girl begged. “Don’t make me pregnant. Please!”
“Then swallow my cum!” I said cruelly. I pulled out and roughly pushed Monique to her knees, and forced my cock into her mouth. I gripped Monique’s silky dark hair as I savagely fucked her beautiful face, and when I came I stayed deep inside her mouth, pressing her nose against my pubic hairs, forcing her to swallow all of my jism.
After I came I staggered backwards, my fall stopped only by the elevator wall. It had been the best sex I had ever had.
Monique stood up and giggled. “Wow, you DO really like school girls, don’t you?”
Still panting, I looked down at her knees. Despite just coming, I felt my lust returning. Monique followed my eyes, and smiled knowingly. She bent over and ran her fingertips along her knees.
She pouted. “You were so rough with me,” she said, again in her school girl voice. “You made me tear my stockings.” She teasingly ran her red nails along the runs. “Look how laddered they are, I won’t be able to wear them again.”
She pouted again. “Will you buy me new ones?”
I nodded, and she smiled. She bent down again, and pulled up her white knee high socks. They had gathered around her slim ankles during our fucking. I watched her and grew rock hard again.
She played with her blouse, which was ruined, its buttons still scattered on the floor. “Would you like me to wear this again?” she asked almost shyly.
I could only nod, my throat too dry to speak. She snuggled close to me and whispered in my ear, “I’ll only wear it for you … never for Victor.”
Then she got on her knees again, and cradled by hard cock between the baby soft flesh of her large breasts. It flashed through my mind that Jen had never given me a tit fucking; her breasts were too small.
Reading my mind, Monique looked into my eyes. “Jen can never give you what I can give you.”
A few days later, Victor called and suggested a double date for the following weekend. I flinched when he said “double date,” because I knew he meant Monique with me, and Jen with him. My wife dating another man? That bothered me. But my recent experience of fucking Monique as an innocent school girl still burned in my memory. I promised Victor I’d talk to Jen.
That evening, Jen reluctantly agreed to another evening with Victor and Monique. I didn’t say “double date” when I asked her because I didn’t know how she’d take it. I got the feeling Jen didn’t really enjoy our new swinging lifestyle, and was doing it for me. Jen’s reluctance made me feel guilty, but relieved too. Guilty, because I lusted so much for Monique, and loved fucking her. Relieved, because knowing Jen wasn’t really into Victor, it made it easier for me to let Victor have her.
That Saturday we went to a nice restaurant with Victor and Monique. While we shared a table, Monique paired off with me and Jen with Victor. It felt like a date, with Monique snuggling up against me and whispering in my ear, and Victor with his arm around Jen. I’m sure the waiter assumed Monique was my wife, and Jen Victor’s. We would’ve had to do some serious explaining if any of our friends saw us, but the restaurant was in the next town, so there was little chance we’d run into anyone we knew.
“I’ve got an idea,” Victor said later, as the valet fetched our cars. “Why don’t you take Monique to my house, and I’ll take Jen to yours? It’ll give us more time to get to know each other.”
“That’s a great idea!” Monique squealed with delight. “It’ll be so much fun!”
My cock stiffened at the thought of having Monique for the entire evening. Monique’s arm was around me, inside my coat, and she squeezed my ass. “It’ll be fun,” she repeated with a seductive smile.
I looked at my wife. Jen didn’t say anything, but her face was a mix of anxiousness and uncertainty. Under my coat, Monique reached into my back pocket and caressed my ass, making me almost shiver with excitement. “It might be fun,” I said to Jen, trying to keep my voice steady.
Jen wore an “I’m not sure about this” expression on her face. “It’s just a few hours,” I said, dismissing her unspoken concerns. “I’ll be home before dawn.”
Jen looked hurt, and she turned away from me. “Whatever,” she said, a quiver in her voice. I felt bad, but my lust for Monique consumed me.
Once again, sex with Monique was amazing. I almost came in my pants when she took off her dress. She wore a black satin bustier, with garters that held up sheer black stockings. Her stiletto heels had to be at least 4 inches high. By 4am, I’d fucked her 3 times, each time cumming on her beautiful face.
Monique fell asleep. With my lust satiated, the rational part of me returned. I felt terrible over how I treated Jen earlier that evening. I got out of bed and dressed, being careful to not wake up Monique. My plan was to get home early, bid Victor goodbye, and then apologize and make up with my wife.
The apartment was dark and quiet, and I assumed Victor and Jen were sleeping. I quietly approached the bedroom, not wanting to wake them up. A single lamp was on, but positioned as I was in the dark hallway, it was enough to illuminate the entire bedroom. What I saw took my breath away.
Jen straddled Victor, who lay naked on the bed. They were fucking, Jen’s hands gripping his chest as she moved slowly up and down on his cock. When we had left our apartment earlier that evening, Jen had worn her hair up. Now her long hair fell loose off her shoulders and down her back, tangled blonde locks sexily framing her pretty face. My wife was nude, except for a garter belt and black stockings, and ankle strap high heels. Her dress, bra and panties lay on the floor.
Earlier that evening, I had noticed how sexy Jen looked, but my attention had been focused on Monique. Now, as I stood in the shadows watching them fuck, I couldn’t get over how desirable my wife looked. Her long shapely legs looked so good in the stockings, and the sight of the garter straps pressing into her ass and thighs made my cock ache. I guess I had always taken Jen’s breasts for granted since they were small. But they were full and shapely, capped with hard perky nipples, and Victor couldn’t seem to get enough of them as he cupped and fondled her.
Seeing my wife with another man was like a blow to the gut. I wanted to pull Jen off Victor. But I knew I couldn’t do that, after fucking Victor’s wife. I had to suck it up and let them finish.
It’s funny what draws your attention at times like this. What things burn into your memory. It wasn’t so much Victor’s cock moving in and out of Jen’s pussy. But the sparkle of her wedding and engagement rings as her left hand clutched his chest. Or the look on Jen’s face, a mixture of pleasure and bliss, and her low intense moans hinting at ecstacy so immense to be almost religious. She enjoyed fucking Victor. He gave her pleasure, and she loved it. It sent a dagger through my heart, and I tried to remember if she had ever looked the same way with me.
I watched with masochistic fascination as Jen slowly rose until only Victor’s cockhead remained inside her, and then slowly lowered until fully impaled on his rod. She did this over and over, moaning with pleasure as she pulled up, and whining in discomfort as she pushed down, her pretty face initially contorted in a grimace of pain before transforming into a glow of pleasure and fulfillment.
Victor was big. He was so long, it seemed to take forever for Jen to pull up, and even longer to push down. He was thick, too, and from my vantage point I saw my wife’s pussy straining to accommodate his wide girth.
With a start, I realized Victor wasn’t wearing a condom. Even though I knew he was fixed and clean, it bothered me that he was fucking my wife bareback. Was he going to cum inside her? I didn’t wear condoms with Monique, but I always pulled out because she was still young enough to get pregnant, and I didn’t know if she took the pill.
“Do you like fucking me, baby?” I heard Victor ask in a low guttural voice.
“Yeah … yeah,” Jen said dreamily, her eyes half closed.
“You like my big fat cock?” Victor panted as their fucking became more frantic. I sensed they were both close to cumming. “Do you? Do you?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jen moaned, her head falling forward and her long blonde hair whipping across Victor’s broad black chest. “I like it, it feels so good.”
“Do I fuck you better than your husband?” Victor hissed between pants. They were both close. “Am I better?”
“Ohhhh godddd,” Jen cried as she came, her orgasm ripping through her lithe body. “Better … better … and so much bigger. Ohhhh godddd …”
As part of an inward thrust, Victor threw Jen to the bed and got on top of her, fucking her more savagely, pressing the wide girth of his hard cock against Jen’s clit to intensify the pleasure and length of her orgasm. “Oh god, oh god,” Jen cried, wrapping her legs around Victor’s waist and digging the stilettos of her high heels into the back of his thighs.
Victor grunted and roared, and then lurched violently forward. I knew he was cumming inside my wife. He pushed deep inside Jen and didn’t pull out for what seemed like minutes, the muscles in his back and ass repeatedly convulsing as he shot what must have been gallons of his sperm inside my wife’s womb. Even after he relaxed, signaling the end of his orgasm, he kept his cock planted deep inside my bride.
I staggered backwards in the darkened hallway, my knees weak, trying to process what I had just seen. Somehow I managed to leave the apartment without being detected. I went down to my car to wait for Victor to leave.
Jen got into the shower. Victor had just left, and Michael would be home soon. As the hot water ran through her hair and sprayed her body, she reflected on the last three months, and how her life had changed.
Jen shook her head in disbelief. She wasn’t naïve. She knew some people swapped partners. She just never expected to be one of them. She and Michael were happy. Their sex life was satisfying, and they loved each other. She never thought they’d become one of those couples people whispered about.
She could imagine the hushed gossip at the country club. “You know Victor and Monique swing, don’t you? Oh yes, they swap partners, it’s true, ask anyone. Well, have you noticed how much time Mike and Jen are spending with Victor and Monique? Do you think … maybe … they’re a foursome?”
God, the country club. She wished they’d never joined. And she wished she’d never met Victor.
She remembered that first time at the club, when Michael introduced her to Victor. The memory made her shivered, even with the hot water jetting over her body. She had never met anyone like him, older but broad shouldered and ruggedly handsome, a man’s man with the grace and charm of a diplomat, and so charismatic, with an intensity and presence so great it felt like a physical thing.
Jen had never cheated on Michael, had never even considered it. But her attraction to Victor was immediate. After just a few minutes around him, her body tingled like never before, and her panties were wet. This had never happened to her before. No one had ever aroused her like this, so immensely, and so suddenly.
Yet, all would have been fine, if Michael would have stayed with her, not left her alone with Victor. But he was too interested in Monique. Jen couldn’t refuse when Victor asked her to dance, not with Michael dancing with Monique.
Victor danced wonderfully. So wonderfully, in fact, that she didn’t notice as he gradually pulled her closer to him as they moved across the dance floor. Soon, her body was pressed against his. That’s when Jen felt his erection.
As a cheerleader in high school, Jen was around the football team all the time. At practices, the boys wore tight stretch pants, just like the ones they wore during games, but without the pads. The pants were so tight you could see the outline of the boys’ penises.
Jen often snuck glances at the boys’ crotches. Of course, she made sure no one ever caught her looking. It was harmless fun, and something she giggled about with the other cheerleaders.
For some boys, you couldn’t see the outline of their penises. The cheerleaders giggled that those boys must have small ones. For other boys — and this was usually the case with the black players — you could see their penises clearly outlined in the tight stretch pants. She remembered one black player — Clyde was his name — his penis seemed to go halfway down his thigh. Her husband Michael was about normal size, compared to the guys she had been with. Well, maybe a little smaller. Sometimes she wondered, a little guiltily, if Michael wore the tight football pants, whether you’d be able to see the outline of his penis.
Jen remembered how it felt, pressed against Victor, his erection pressing against her stomach. He felt big, longer even than Clyde.
Victor wasn’t crude; he didn’t grind himself against her as they danced. But he didn’t pull away either. As they danced and swayed, she felt his penis move and shift across her stomach, sometimes moving left and right, sometimes up and down. To her amazement, Victor got bigger and harder.
Jen felt light-headed and weak kneed, being in Victor’s strong arms, in his commanding presence, and with his hard penis pressed against her. The good wife part of her prayed for Michael to save her, to pull her away from Victor and take her back to the safe confides of their home. But the rest of her? She didn’t know what the rest of her wanted.
“Let’s go into the parlor,” Jen heard Victor say. “Less noise. We can talk.”
Jen looked anxious and uncertain. “I should wait here for Michael. He’ll be looking for me.”
Victor smiled a large re-assuring smile. “Don’t worry about that. Monique will keep him company.” Victor put his arm around Jen and led her down the side of the ballroom and into the parlor. As he did, Jen looked around the dance floor for Michael, but didn’t see him. Victor closed the door.
Victor stroked Jen’s cheek. “You’re lovely, so beautiful.”
Jen flushed, delighted by Victor’s compliment, but uncomfortable and embarrassed. “No I’m not,” She said modestly, laughing nervously. “At least, not like Monique. She’s so beautiful, like a model. She has such a nice figure. I’m so flat-chested compared to her.” Jen laughed nervously, trying to make it sound like a joke, but she felt like an idiot for rambling on.
Victor smiled confidently, and he touched Jen’s chin. Jen froze and held her breath as Victor ran the tip of his finger along her neck and down her chest.
“You shouldn’t …” Jen said as Victor’s finger neared her breasts, her heart pounding in her chest.
“… please …” Jen whined as Victor’s finger traced a circle around her breast.
“… I’m married …” Jen begged, a moan escaping her lips as Victor cupped and fondled her breast.
Victor raised an eyebrow, looking amused. He pulled his hand away.
“It’s true,” he said casually, his tone and expression showing no signs of his having just fondled her, “Monique’s breasts are large and wonderful. But I tell you — and I dare say most men would agree — shapeliness is just as important as size. And your breasts feel perfect to me. I’d love to see them someday.”
Jen blushed again, her heart pounding even harder. “Well, that’s never going to happen,” she said, laughing nervously. “I better go … Michael’s waiting for me.”
“But, for me,” Victor continued as if Jen hadn’t spoken, “I most admire a woman’s legs. Long slim legs, toned and shapely. Just like yours.”
Victor looked into Jen’s eyes. “Would it be too forward of me to say I’d love to see more of your wonderful legs? Why don’t you raise your dress for me?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Jen said, putting as much indignation into her voice as she could. She couldn’t believe the nerve of this man. Too forward of him? He had just groped her, and he’s worried about being too forward? She was married, how dare he?
Yet, why couldn’t she bring herself to run away? He was so confident, so sure of himself. She had never met anyone like him. So powerful, so … commanding.
Victor didn’t say anything more, but his eyes never left Jen’s. Jen felt herself wilting under his intense gaze. Flustered, she broke eye contact and looked away. Yet, she still felt Victor’s eyes boring into her, silently commanding her to obey his demands.
It was like an out of body experience, with Jen far above, watching herself. She watched as she reached down and, with shaky hands, clutched the material of her skirt, and slowly raised it.
“Very nice,” Victor admired as Jen raised her dress above her knees, and then past mid-thigh. “Your legs are even shapelier than I imagined. Don’t stop, keep going.”
Jen flushed red, feeling a mixture of arousal and humiliation. How could she be doing this, exposing herself to this near stranger while her husband waited just in the next room? Why was she obeying this man? Why wasn’t she running away?
“Keep going,” Victor commanded. “Higher. That’s it, keep going.”
Jen tensed as Victor reached out and cupped her pussy. “Well, isn’t that a surprise,” Victor said, amused. “You’re soaking.”
Jen’s cheeks reddened even more; she had never felt so humiliated. She almost jumped when Victor ran a finger between her pussy lips, his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing her body.
Victor chuckled. “I think this is what they call a camel toe,” he said, and then rubbed Jen’s clit through her panties and pantyhose.
“Ohhh goddd,” Jen whimpered as she tried, without success, to stifle a moan. She was so aroused, she was going to cum in just a few seconds if Victor kept fingering her. She knew she should pull away, push down her dress and run away, but she felt unable to move, frozen in place by Victor’s charismatic and commanding presence.
“Your legs really are wonderful,” Victor said almost casually as he continued to finger Jen. “But wear shorter skirts, and higher heels. They’ll look even better.”
Jen clutched Victor’s arm and gritted her teeth. He was going to make her cum, it would only take another second …
Victor abruptly pulled his hand away and Jen gasped in frustration, whimpering at her unfulfilled orgasm.
Victor saw the longing in Jen’s face and smiled. He flicked his hand dismissively. “You can go back to your husband now,” he said, a look of amusement on his face.
For days after that first meeting with Victor, Jen cursed herself for being so easily manipulated. My god, here she was, happily married, with Michael just in the other room, and she exposes herself to a stranger, and lets him fondle and finger her. Where was her good sense?
What was it about Victor? Why had she given in so easily to him? She knew she was attractive, and guys still hit on her, even now after being married. She had never had problems fending off those guys, or been tempted by any of them. Why had she let Victor get so far?
The thought of Victor made her tingle. He had almost made her cum. She felt indignant at Victor’s nerve, and angry at herself for her weakness. But also disappointment, because he pulled away before she climaxed? Feeling guilty, Jen shook her head to get the thought out of her mind. She wanted to be a faithful wife, and wanting another man to finger her to orgasm was just as bad as sleeping with him.
Michael wanted to go to the next club mixer, and he gave her money to buy a new outfit. “You’re so wonderful for going to these mixers with me,” he had told her. “Here’s some money — why don’t you treat yourself to a new outfit?”
Jen dreaded the thought of another club mixer, and the possibility of seeing Victor again. But networking at the club was important for Michael’s job, so she reluctantly went to the mall to buy a new outfit. She browsed through the party dresses with the plunging necklines, and the skirts that were way too short. She knew Michael would love it if she wore sexy clothes like that. He was constantly encouraging her to dress sexier, but it just wasn’t her. Growing up with two older brothers, she had always been a little tom-boyish, and felt more comfortable in jeans than dresses. She had never needed to dress sexy to attract guys. With her pretty face, silky blonde hair, and toned, athletic body, she never lacked for suitors.
Victor’s words echoed in her head. “I want you to wear shorter skirts and higher heels.” Remembering Victor’s words made her shudder. He was so confident, so commanding, unlike any man she had ever known. Impulsively, Jen quickly picked out a turtleneck, mini-skirt and high heels, and hurriedly paid for them before she lost her nerve.
At home and feeling nervous, Jen tried on the new outfit. The clingy turtleneck molded itself around her breasts, and the tight mini-skirt ended around mid-thigh. She hadn’t worn anything so short since her high school cheerleader outfit. The high heels weren’t that high — only about 2 or 3 inches– but they were the highest she had ever worn, and she had to practice for over 30 minutes to walk without stumbling.
She looked in the mirror again, and considered what jewelry she’d wear. Maybe the long pearl necklace Michael had given her as a wedding present. She imagined how pleased Victor would be when he saw the string of pearls dangling between her perky breasts.
Then, suddenly, she felt like crying, as the realization of what she was doing hit her like a physical blow. She had picked out the sexy outfit with Victor in mind, not her husband. Now she was picking out jewelry to please Victor, and she was even thinking of wearing the pearls Michael had given her on their wedding day. She sat on the edge of the bed, her guilt overwhelming. “What am I doing?” she asked herself.
Her eyes fell to her long legs. When she sat, the tight skirt hiked higher up her thighs so it fell just inches below her pussy. She had lost her summer tan, so her legs had returned to their natural smooth white tone. Despite her guilty feelings, Jen imagined how Victor’s dark black hand would look against her white skin. She imagined Victor’s hand on her knee, and moving up her thigh, moving under her skirt. She remembered how it felt when Victor cupped her pussy, his insistent fingers edging around her panties and entering her.
Jen scooted up to lay on the bed. She covered her face with her hands. “What am I doing?” she asked herself again. Then, after long guilty moments, she gave into her body’s urges, reaching down to pull up her new skirt, and then inserting her hand down her panties. “Oh god,” she moaned as she rubbed her clit. With her other hand she squeezed her breasts, and with her eyes clenched shut, she fantasized about Victor fingering and fondling her.
On Saturday, Jen pulled out a black dress to wear to the mixer. She wasn’t going to give into Victor’s demands. The new outfit was hidden in her closet. She planned to wear that for Michael sometime, when they went out alone.
After putting on her dress and pantyhose, Jen stepped into her low heel pumps. She looked into the mirror and sighed. She remembered how fashionable all the girls dressed at the club. She went back into her closet and pulled out the new high heels, and slipped them on. She looked in the mirror, and noticed how the high stilettos made her legs look even longer and shapelier. The dress buttoned up the front. She hesitated, then impulsively unbuttoned three of the lower buttons to reveal more of her legs, and then hurried out of the bedroom before losing her nerve.
“You look lovely,” Victor said admiringly an hour later as he held Jen’s chair, his eyes on her legs. Jen smiled reluctantly at the compliment, not entirely happy at the prospect of dining with Victor and Monique. They had little choice but to share a table with the couple, given how welcoming they had been as she and Michael had entered the club.
Jen did her best to hold down her skirt but, like any dress, it hiked up her legs as she sat. “Very nice,” Victor said approvingly over Jen’s shoulder. He bent over so his lips almost touched her ear. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen legs so shapely and alluring.” Jen blushed and looked away.
“Are those new heels?” Victor asked after sitting down. “You’re so kind, to wear them for me.”
Jen flushed. “You think so much of yourself,” she said sharply, hoping Victor wouldn’t notice her redden cheeks. “Yes, for your information, they are new, but I bought them to wear for my husband.”
“Okay, okay,” Victor said laughing, holding up his hands in mock surrender. Then his tone turned serious. “Next time I see you, I want you wearing a shorter skirt.” His stare turned harder. “But not before then.”
Jen looked indignant. “I’ll wear what my husband wants me to wear, when he wants me to wear it,” she said angrily.
Victor laughed again, but it was a cruel laugh. “Is that right? He likes you to wear dresses that do their best to hide your charms? I suppose that’s why he pays so much attention to Monique.”
Jen frowned as she looked at Michael and Monique. They were talking to each other, their heads close, completely oblivious to the rest of the world.
As if reading her mind, Victor smiled. “Don’t mind them. The purpose of the club is to socialize, to form bonds and friendships. For example, take those two men over there,” Victor gestured to the adjacent table. “Mark and Greg. I’m certain they’d love to get to know you better.”
Jen glanced to her right, and saw two well dressed guys looking at her. They were older, in their thirties, and looked like brokers or attorneys. They sat across from their chatting, pleasantly plump wives. The guys were checking her out, spending a lot of time looking up and down her body.
Jen looked away quickly. She couldn’t believe they were leering at her with their wives sitting so near. Victor leaned closer. Jen shuddered as she felt his hot breath tickle her neck.
“You see, you’re forming a new friendship with Mark and Greg,” he whispered into her ear. “Now you need to bond with them. Cross your legs, and as you do, allow your dress to ride up your thighs.”
Jen looked disbelieving at Victor. “You can’t be serious.”
Victor smiled, but his eyes were intent and humorless. “Do as I say,” he said in a low but commanding voice.
Jen hesitated. But once again, she felt caught in Victor’s spell, mesmerized, her will melting under this intense gaze. As if in a dream, she slowly crossed her legs. With Victor’s command echoing in her head, she didn’t try to stop her skirt as it parted where she had unbuttoned it, falling away to exposed her to mid-thigh.
“You see, that wasn’t difficult was it? Now then, let your high heel dangle from your toes.”
“You heard me,” Victor said simply.
Jen inwardly sighed. Feeling silly, she gently flexed her foot so the shoe fell off her heel, then dangling the high heel shoe from her toe. As she did, Victor kept an eye on Mark and Greg, and smiled. “Very good, Jennifer. You have their full attention.” Curious, Jen surreptitiously glanced at the two men. To her surprise, they were both practically panting, their eyes ogling her legs.
Victor chuckled at the surprised look on Jen’s face. “You didn’t realize you were such a tease?”
“I’m not a tease,” Jen shot back.
“Perhaps not … at least not yet. But it arouses you, doesn’t it, to turn them on?”
“No, it doesn’t,” Jen insisted. But she couldn’t deny the familiar tingling she felt in her panties. She felt ashamed and angry. “Why are you doing this?” she asked exasperated. “Why do you play these games?”
“Games?” Victor laughed dismissively. “Jennifer, making you expose your legs barely qualifies as a game. This, however …” Victor reached over and placed his hand on Jen’s thigh.
“… this might be worthy of a game.”
Jen almost jumped as she felt Victor’s hand on her leg. She looked down at her lap and almost shuddered at the sight of his large black hand on her thigh. It looked just like she had imagined in her fantasy. “Please, take your hand away …” she whispered, stifling a moan as Victor caressed her inner thigh.
“Fingering you as Mark and Greg watch would be fun.”
“… please stop …” Jen pleaded as Victor’s fingers trailed up her leg and disappeared under her dress.
“I’m sure they would enjoy watching your face as you came.”
“… my husband will see!”
Victor raised an eyebrow, looking amused. “I think Mike’s attention is drawn elsewhere.”
Jen glanced at her husband and saw with a stab of jealousy that Victor was right. Michael seemed completely captivated by Monique.
“In any case, no one can see except for Mark and Greg.”
Jen looked around nervously, and realized Victor was right. Due to the orientation of the room, only Mark and Greg could see underneath their side of the table.
“I want you to take your hand off me,” Jen said as sternly as she could, trying to keep her voice from shaking as Victor continued to caress her.
“Did you fantasize about me this week?” Victor asked as if Jen hadn’t spoken.
“You heard me. Did you think about me while Mike fucked you? Did you fantasize about me while playing with yourself?”
“No, of course I didn’t,” Jen lied, realizing she had replied too quickly. Victor smiled knowingly, and Jen looked away, feeling like a little girl caught telling a lie.
“Jennifer, are you wet?”
“No, I’m not,” Jen said exasperated. “Now take —”
Suddenly Victor’s hand moved further up her skirt until his fingers touched her panties.
“You lied to me,” Victor said scowling as he fingered Jen’s soaking panties. “Never lie to me, Jennifer.”
“Stop!” Jen gasped in an urgent whisper, covering Victor’s hand with hers. She stole a glance at Mark and Greg. They both had huge tents in their pants, and Mark was even rubbing himself. Victor continued to finger her, pushing her towards an orgasm. She couldn’t cum with Mark and Greg watching, it would be too humiliating. “Please,” Jen begged, “I won’t lie to you again, I promise, just stop.”
Victor stopped fingering her, but didn’t pull his hand away. Smiling triumphantly, he eyed Mark and Greg. “They’re wondering if your husband is going to let me fuck you.”
Jen stared at Victor in horror. “You’re crazy,” she chided him. “Michael would never let you have me.”
Victor smiled. “Are you sure?” he asked, gesturing across the table. “Are you sure he wouldn’t give you to me, if I let him have Monique?”
Jen glanced across the table, her heart sinking as she saw the two of them laugh, their faces so close together to be almost touching. “Never,” she insisted somewhat weakly, feeling less confident.
“You thought about me this week, didn’t you? You wore those new shoes for me?”
“No,” Jen said, repeating her earlier denial. “Not you. I wore them for my husband.”
Victor shook his head. “Jennifer, I told you not to lie to me.”
Jen felt Victor move his fingers again, edging around the edge of her panties and pushing towards her clit. She abruptly pushed her chair back, the commotion causing Michael and Monique to look up in surprise. “I … ah … I have to go to the ladies room,” she said, hoping Michael wouldn’t notice how flushed she looked.
Victor looked into Monique’s eyes. She smiled, as if understanding her husband’s silent message.
“I’ll go with you,” she said cheerfully.
Jen felt awkward and angry walking next to the woman who was so clearly trying to seduce her husband. Monique seemed oblivious to Jen’s anger, taking Jen’s arm in hers and happily chatting like they were best friends.
“I know Victor’s attracted to you,” Monique said. “I’m not surprised; you’re so young and pretty.”
Jen pulled away, shocked at Monique’s bluntness.
“It’s okay, really it is,” Monique said quickly, smiling reassuringly. “I don’t mind. I just want to warn you.” Monique pulled Jen close, smiling conspiratorially. “Don’t let him do anal with you.”
Jen’s eyes grew wide, her mouth gaping open.
“At least not the first time,” Monique added quickly, misinterpreting Jen’s shock as disappointment. “I mean, Victor’s an incredible lover, you’ll love it, he really knows how to please a woman. But he’s so big. Huge! You’ll want to get use to him before you let him up your bum.” Monique giggled like a schoolgirl, and affectionately squeezed Jen’s arm. “I love it too, it feels so good, but I’m just warning you, you won’t be able to walk right for a week.”
Michael and Jen had just gotten home when the phone rang. “It’s Victor,” Michael said to his wife. “He and Monique are in the neighborhood, and asked to stop by.”
Jen froze. She wasn’t ready to see Victor again, not after the last time. That’s why she wouldn’t go to the club, but had instead insisted that they go out by themselves to dinner and a movie.
“We should invite them over,” Michael said. “They’re just down the street. We don’t want to be rude.”
Jen started to protest, but she sensed her husband’s excitement. She could tell he wanted to see Monique again. Feeling hurt, she shrugged, and listened as Michael excitedly invited Victor and Monique up to their apartment.
Jen remembered Victor’s command. “Next time I see you, I want you wearing a shorter skirt. But not before then.”
Jen had intended to wear the new outfit that evening with Michael — the turtleneck and mini-skirt. But at the last moment she had decided on a different skirt and blouse, and low-heel pumps. It wasn’t because of Victor’s command, she had told herself. She just felt more comfortable in less revealing clothes.
But now, with Victor on his way to see her? She didn’t know what to do. Changing into a short skirt would be so humiliating. But Victor’s words kept echoing in her head. “Next time I see you, I want you wearing a shorter skirt.”
“I guess I better change,” Jen said finally. She saw the questioning look on Michael’s face, and hurried into their bedroom before he could ask anything. Jen undressed, and hurriedly rummaged through her closet for the new outfit. She considered a moment, looking undecided, and then sprayed perfume between her breasts. She was about to put on the new outfit when she remembered a porn movie she had watched with Michael. Blushing and feeling a little ashamed, she pulled down her pantyhose and panties to her knees, and spritzed a little perfume on her trimmed bush. Jen pulled her pantyhose and panties back on, then dressed quickly in the clingy turtleneck and mini-skirt. She also changed from the low-heel pumps to her new stiletto heels. She brushed her blonde hair and checked her makeup, applying a fresh coat of lipstick. She was about to return when she hesitated, looking at the top of her dresser. While feeling guilty, she nevertheless snatched up the pearl necklace Michael had given her on their wedding day, and put it on around her neck, the string of pearls hanging between her shapely breasts.
“You look great, honey,” Michael said as she emerged from the bedroom. “Is that a new outfit?”
Jen nodded hesitantly. “Um … yeah. I had some money left over after buying these shoes. Do you like?”
Michael barely had time to nod before the door buzzed. Then Victor was standing in the door, smiling and leering at her past Michael’s shoulder. He looked her up and down, nodding appreciatively.
“I’ll get drinks,” Jen said nervously, wilting under Victor’s intense gaze. She retreated into the kitchen, hoping Victor wouldn’t follow, but knowing he would.
Jen was on her tiptoes and reaching for wine glasses when she felt Victor’s presence behind her. “You smell delicious,” he said as he nuzzled her neck, his face buried in her silky blonde hair. “You look incredible,” he said as his hands worked under her turtleneck and felt her flat tummy. “Man, you’ve got a fucking tight body!”
Jen felt Victor’s hands roaming under her turtleneck, moving towards her breasts. “Please,” she pleaded in a low voice, putting her hands on Victor’s and trying to push him away. “Michael’s just in the other room.”
Victor chuckled. “Let’s see what they’re doing,” he said, and he guided Jen to the doorway of the living room. Monique was straddling Michael on the sofa, her dress pulled up around her waist. Jen felt a pang of jealousy as she watched her husband reach behind Monique and unzip her. She felt even worst as Michael’s eyes grew wide at the sight of Monique’s braless breasts, and she barely stifled a sob as Michael fondled and sucked Monique’s nipples.
Suddenly Jen felt a hard, pulsing rod in her hand. Victor had pulled out his penis and was pressing it against her. Jen tried to pull away but Victor held her hand with his, making her hold his hard cock. Despite seeing her husband with another woman, Jen found herself fascinated by Victor’s penis. It was long and thick and incredibly hard, like granite, with thick veins running up both sides of the shaft. It looked menacing, yet the skin was soft and unblemished. Her body tingled as she held him, and she felt almost dizzy with anticipation and excitement.
Jen watched as Monique reached down and cupped Michael’s hard-on. “I’ve wanted to feel this since that first time we danced,” Jen heard Monique say. Monique unzipped Michael and pulled out his penis. This was the penis Jen was so familiar with, the only penis she had held, or sucked, or allowed inside her for almost 10 years. It was her husband’s penis, the penis of the man she loved. But even as she watched another woman fondle and stroke Michael’s penis, Jen couldn’t help comparing it to the one she held in her hand.
“Michael is so small,” Jen thought.
Victor pulled Jen back into the kitchen, easily lifting her onto the kitchen table. He pushed her skirt up around her waist. Jen yelped when he tore her pantyhose from the waistband to her crotch, and she yelped again when he ripped her panties off. Victor’s brutal nature both frightened and aroused her.
Victor smiled, and took a moment to appreciate the beauty of Jen’s pussy, hairless except for a thin landing strip above her clit. Jen blushed as for the first time in almost ten years, a man other than her husband looked upon her most private parts.
Victor guided his cock to Jen’s pussy, rubbing the large bulbous cockhead between her wet pussy lips, and was satisfied when he heard Jen moan. Jen looked between her legs and saw the long, thick cock that was about to penetrate her. It frightened her, it was so big. How could it ever fit inside her?
Victor held Jen’s hips as he slowly pushed his massive cockhead into the young blonde wife. “Ugh god, god!” Jen cried at the violation. “It hurts!”
“Stop whining,” Victor said dismissively. “You’ll get use to it, and when you do, you’ll beg me for it.”
Jen grimaced and bit her lip as, inch by inch, Victor penetrated her with this thick cock. Perspiration fell off Victor’s brow from the exertion. “Damn you’re tight, as tight as a fucking virgin!” he growled.
“It hurts, it hurts,” Jen whimpered, tears flowing down her cheeks from the pain. She felt her pussy straining around Victor’s rod; it felt as though she could feel the thick veins running up the sides of his cock. She looked between them and her eyes grew wide. He still had at least six inches to push inside her! And he seemed to get thicker at the base! God, she already felt completely stuffed, how could she possibly fit all of him inside her?
Victor began pulling out and pushing back in, each time stuffing more cock meat inside her. Jen grunted from the pain, her chest heaving, her hands frantically gripping the sides of the table.
But then, pleasure joined the pain, and Jen’s grunts turned into moans. Victor was so long and thick that he stimulated both her clit and g-spot with every thrust. The pleasure was incredible, its intensity magnified by the pain.
Suddenly Jen tensed, her back arching as she came. It was like a dam rupturing, and she dug her manicured nails into Victor’s back as tidal waves of pleasure cascaded through her body. She had never had an orgasm so intense, and it went on and on, never seeming to end. Then Victor grunted and his body tensed, and with a powerful lurch he also came, his cock pumping what seemed like gallons of his seed into Jen’s fertile womb.
They lay panting for long minutes, their chests heaving in tandem. Jen wrapped her arms around Victor’s neck and they lay there snuggling in the afterglow of their orgasms, his half-hard cock still inside her, her legs still wrapped around his waist.
“My god,” Jen thought silently, still panting but completely satisfied. “My god.” She had never had better sex. She had never even known sex could be so good.
I felt disheartened as I sat in the car, waiting for Victor to leave. I felt paralyzed, in shock, my eyes focused on the door of the apartment building, waiting for it to open and Victor to walk out.
The images ran through my head, of Jen straddling Victor and her long blonde hair swaying across her shoulders as she moved up and down on his cock. I couldn’t get over how sexy Jen looked as she rode him, nude except for a garter belt, black stockings, and ankle strap high heels. Her choice of lingerie pained me as much as seeing them fuck. For years I had been after my wife to wear thigh highs and stiletto heels, but she rarely did. But she wore them for Victor.
Finally the door opened, and Victor left. I waited a few minutes more, and then went up to our apartment.
“Hi,” I said tentatively, seeing Jen in bed. She looked freshly showered, and it looked like she had changed the sheets. I took off my clothes and moved to join her under the covers, but she stopped me.
“Could you take a shower first?” she gently asked, and I felt like an idiot. I had forgotten all about being with Monique that night. The sight of Jen with Victor had driven thoughts of Monique from my mind.
“Sure, sure,” I said quickly, and I quickly hurried to the shower. I emerged a few minutes later, still toweling my hair. Jen smiled and pulled back the covers, inviting me to join her.
“Did you have fun?” I asked.
“Yeah, it was okay.”
“Just okay?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. For some reason, I had an urgent need to find out how Jen felt about Victor. Maybe I hoped she had faked those moans and orgasms, that she didn’t enjoy fucking him as much as it seemed. Or maybe the masochistic part of me wanted to hear my wife admit how much she adored getting pounded by the well-hung black man. “Monique told me Victor was really good in bed.”
Jen hesitated, and looked away from me. “He is good, I guess,” she said after a few moments.
“Monique said Victor’s hung like a horse.” I laughed, trying to sound like I didn’t care. “So is it true, bigger is better?”
“I don’t know. It’s different.” Jen frowned, and her tone became defensive, almost angry. “Why do you care?”
“Why do I care? Honey, you’re my wife. We might be experimenting with swinging, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, and how you’re getting along with Victor. I mean, I know his penis is bigger than mine. I’m just wondering if that makes a difference, if it feels better.”
Jen’s anger melted away. “Honey, he’s not better than you,” she said in a soft voice. She rubbed my arm affectionately. “It’s just different, that’s all.”
Jen paused. “Is it better with Monique?” she asked hesitantly, concern in her face. “She’s so beautiful.”
I took my wife into my arms. “Honey, I’ll admit, it’s exciting to be with someone new. It’s probably the same way for you, to be with Victor. But there’s no one prettier than you.”
Jen beamed. “You liar,” she said playfully, punching me. “Monique’s a model. She was in the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue — twice! — and Playboy wanted her to be Miss January or July or something, but by then she had met Victor, and he won’t let her.”
“What? I knew about the SI swimsuit issue, but not Playboy.”
Jen punched me again, harder this time. “You jerk!”
I laughed and took her again into my arms. “Honey, I don’t care what Monique was in, or almost in. You’re way prettier than her, and sexier too.” Feeling a little surprised, I realized I meant it. Yes, Monique was beautiful and alluring. But Jen had everything that Monique had, and more. Jen’s face was prettier than Monique’s, although this was probably debatable and depended on whether you liked blondes better than brunettes. Her body was just as firm, and her ass and legs were way better than Monique’s. Monique had bigger breasts, but Jen’s were full and perfectly shaped, and there were lots of guys (including me) who preferred girls with tiny tits.
Jen had better raw material than Monique. If Jen tried, she could blow Monique away in looks and sexiness. I wondered if Victor knew that. Maybe he saw beyond Jen’s scant use of makeup and near-shapeless clothing, and recognized her potential to be something really special.
The thought upset me. It took Jen fucking another man for me to fully appreciate her beauty and sexiness. I got on top of Jen, intent on correcting my mistake.
“Honey, you’re so pretty, much sexier than Monique,” I said as I pushed my hard cock into her pussy. She welcomed me, opening her legs and wrapping her arms around me. But despite my renewed passion for my wife, I started softening. Jen’s pussy wasn’t as tight as usual, which wasn’t a surprise since she had just fucked Victor who knows how many times. There wasn’t enough friction to keep me hard, and Jen also didn’t seem to be enjoying it much.
Concern spread through me, as I wondered if I’d ever get my wife’s tight pussy back. I thought again at how Victor’s enormous cock stretched Jen’s pussy so. Would her pussy ever return to normal, the way it used to be, where it fit my penis like a glove?
I was pleasantly surprised to realize I was hard again. I could still barely feel the walls of Jen’s pussy. What happened to get me excited? Suddenly, I realized the more I thought about Victor fucking Jen, the harder I got.
A mixture of jealousy and arousal flooded over me. I didn’t want to think about Jen getting banged by Victor with his massive black cock. But the more I thought about it, the more aroused I became. I closed my eyes and allowed the memories to playback in my head. I remembered how Jen had wrapped her stocking-clad legs around Victor, and how she dug her stiletto heels into the back of his thighs to urge him deeper inside her. Within moments I came, my sperm joining Victor’s that he had deposited in Jen earlier that evening.
I’m not one of those guys who fantasize about his wife getting fucked by other men. Wife watching and cuckold fantasies had never turned me on before. But over the next week I couldn’t get the images of Jen and Victor out of my mind. I had a constant hard-on, and I even masturbated a few times in the bath room at work.
It wasn’t just the images, it was also what they had said.
“You like my big fat cock? Do you? Do you?”
“Yeah, yeah, I like it, it feels so good.”
“Do I fuck you better than your husband? Am I better?”
“Ohhhh godddd. Better … better … and so much bigger!”
The memories hurt, and left me jealous and insecure. But somehow, these feelings intensified my arousal.
They frightened me, too. I had ventured into this wife swapping lifestyle so I could bed Monique. Now, though, my interest was shifting from Monique to Victor and Jen. The thought of them together got me hard. But did I want to risk letting Victor have Jen again? What if she got addicted to his cock? Was I somehow a closet gay, getting off on seeing huge black cocks fucking petite blonde pussy? All these thoughts were disturbing and upset me. Yet, whenever I thought about it — thought about Victor fucking my wife — I got hard and masturbated to a ferocious orgasm.
“Victor called me today,” I said a few days later. I had considered not saying anything, but knew Jen would eventually find out. “He wanted to know if we planned to be at the club this weekend.”
“What did you say?”
“I said I’d get back to him. Do you want to go?”
Jen hesitated. It seemed like she was picking her words carefully. “I guess we have to,” she finally said. “Don’t you need to network with these people for your job?”
“Yeah, but I’ve been thinking … maybe the club isn’t the best thing for us. This thing we’ve been doing with Victor and Monique. Maybe we should stop. What do you think?”
“Well, I don’t know,” Jen replied noncommittally. “Monique invited me to lunch tomorrow. I’m sorry, she asked me today, and I forgot to tell you. Anyway, it might be a little awkward if we don’t go to the club after she takes me to lunch tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I searched Jen’s face. Her tone was still neutral, but I sensed a little — apprehension? Was she afraid I wouldn’t agree to go to the club? Was she concerned I’d object to her sleeping with Victor again?
“Well, then, I guess we better go. I’ll call Victor and let him know we’ll be there.”
“Okay, if you think that’s best,” Jen said, shrugging nonchalantly, acting like she didn’t care either way. Yet, did her face show a little relief, maybe even a little excitement?
Jen fidgeted nervously as she waited for Monique to arrive. She dreaded lunch with Monique. It wasn’t like she was going to lunch with a girl friend, or even a casual acquaintance. She had slept with Monique’s husband! Was Monique planning on confronting her, telling her to stay away from Victor? God, why had she ever agreed to this lunch? But she couldn’t really say no, and Monique had been so nice to her over the phone.
“Oh Jen, I’m so sorry for being late,” Monique said a few minutes later. She hugged Jen and kissed her on the cheek. “Traffic was terrible. But I’m so happy to see you!”
Jen’s apprehension diminished as they sipped wine and gossiped about people at the club. Soon they were giggling like school girls and acting like best friends.
Monique leaned back in her chair and her eyes drifted to below the table. “Jen, you really should wear shorter skirts,” she admonished in a playful, motherly voice. “Your legs are so nice, you should show them off.”
Jen giggled. “Oh my god, you sound like Victor.” Then she realized what she said, and brought her hand to her mouth, horrified. “I’m sorry, that was so insensitive, I wasn’t thinking –”
Monique smiled. “Jen, it’s okay,” she said reassuringly. “I don’t mind you’re sleeping with my husband. This is something we do, we have an open marriage. It’s fun, exciting, to play with other people. Variety is the spice of life. The club is really a wonderful place for that.”
“Absolutely. Everyone is really fit and good looking. Well, most people anyway. And many are open to having some harmless fun.” Monique looked quizzically at Jen. “Have any other men approached you yet?”
Jen looked taken aback, shocked. “No!” she said quickly.
Monique laughed and squeezed Jen’s hand affectionately. “It’s okay, honey, let yourself have fun. I’m sure Michael wouldn’t mind — he seems to like swinging. In fact, Victor will probably mind more than Michael. My husband’s really taken with you.”
Jen was speechless. She hadn’t considered being with other people. She was still trying to get use to the idea of her extramarital activities with Victor. “Well, no one’s shown any interest,” she said, not knowing what else to say.
“Oh Jen,” Monique said, suddenly serious. “There’s a lot of interest in you. A lot.”
Jen blushed. Were people talking about her at the club, openly talking about her affair with Victor, wondering who would bed her next? She felt like a piece of meat, and practically shuddered at the thought.
Suddenly Jen felt Monique’s hand on her thigh. “You believe me, don’t you? You’re so young and pretty, and you have such a cute body. Lots of people would like to get to know you better. And not just men.”
Jen turned scarlet. “Um, well,” she stammered, feeling Monique’s caresses on her bare thigh.
Monique giggled at Jen’s obvious discomfort, and pulled her hand away. “Don’t worry, I won’t rape you,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “But sometimes, Victor and I like to share a pretty girl. You’ll think about it, won’t you? I know you’ll like it.”
“Um, sure, I guess,” Jen said, feeling more awkward than she had ever felt in her life.
Monique squeezed Jen’s hand again. “Jen, you should listen to Victor, you really should. Wear shorter skirts. Your legs are so nice. Dress sexier at the club, and flirt more. You’ll have so much fun teasing all the boys, you really will.”
“Um, okay.” Then Jen realized Monique hadn’t mentioned Michael. “Do you hear people talking about Michael?”
“Oh, don’t worry about Michael,” Monique said almost dismissively. “I told you, the people in the club are fun. There’ll be a lot of wives who’ll sleep with Michael, so their husbands can sleep with you.”
Jen slowly leaned back in her chair, feeling shocked. “Do you mean — did Victor force you to sleep with Michael, so he could sleep with me?”
Monique looked shocked. “He didn’t force me, of course not. I like Michael, he’s sweet. I’m just saying, in a good marriage where both spouses are open minded and like to have fun, sometimes the wife will sleep with someone she might not otherwise, so her husband can sleep with the girl he wants. And sometimes it’s the other way around.”
“So … you mean, you wouldn’t have slept with Michael, if Victor hadn’t wanted to sleep with me?”
Monique grimaced. “That makes it sound so bad. I like Michael, I really do. He’s just not my type.”
“Well, um … what is your type?”
Monique smiled mischievously. “Honey, I think you know my type. And, from what Victor tells me, you like the same type. I mean, I’m not obsessed about size. I’ve enjoyed playing with lots of guys who aren’t as big as Victor. I mean, hardly anyone’s as big as my husband. But Michael — he’s really small, isn’t he?”
“No he’s not!”
“Oh, okay,” Monique said, backing off quickly upon hearing the anger and indignation in Jen’s voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just … well, I had assumed that’s why you and Michael were getting into swinging. He was letting you experience men with — you know — men who were better endowed.”
“No, that’s not why. We just thought … I don’t know … I guess we thought it might be fun to experiment with other people for a while.”
“Okay, well, that’s understandable.” Monique was quiet for a moment, and then her curiosity got the better of her. “So … size doesn’t make a difference to you?”
Jen crossed her arms defiantly. “It doesn’t make a difference with most women,” she said, remembering things she had read in magazines.
Monique seemed to read Jen’s mind. “Women say that, I know, but — well — it didn’t feel different being with Victor?”
“Well, of course it felt different!” Jen said without thinking, exasperated. “Your husband’s as big as a horse!” Jen scowled at Monique, and then realized the outrageousness of what she had just said. The two girls looked into each other’s eyes, and then broke out laughing, the tension between then immediately easing. They laughed so long their stomachs ached.
Tipsy from wine and still feeling silly from laughing so hard, Jen’s curiosity got the better of her. “So, do you really think Michael’s that small? I mean, compared to other men you’ve been with?”
Monique didn’t answer. Instead, she squeezed Jen’s hand and smiled caringly, a sympathetic look on her face.
Jen tightly clutched Michael’s hand as they entered the club. She was wearing the lycra dress again, the one Victor had sent her a few weeks ago, just before she and Michael visited them at their mansion. The dress was so revealing she almost hadn’t worn it then, and that was back when only Victor and Michael were going to see her in it. Now, lots of guys were going to see her in the dress, and butterflies flittered through her stomach as she nervously held onto her husband’s arm.
Jen felt every male head turn as she walked by. She blushed, feeling like a piece of meat on display. Did they know about her affair with Victor? Jen remembered what Monique had said. “There’s a lot of interest in you, a lot.” Did these men think she was available? Were they hoping to sleep with her? Jen nervously glanced around. Many of the men were hungrily leering at her. She clutched Michael’s arm even tighter.
“There you are, I’ve been looking for you two.” Michael and Jen turned and saw a smiling Monique approaching. Jen was relieved to see her friend. Monique hugged Michael and kissed him hello on the cheek. Jen felt a twinge of jealousy, but she knew it was silly to feel that way given the situation. Then Monique linked her arm with Jen’s. “Honey, come with me to the ladies room,” she said cheerily.
“You look so good!” Monique said, eyeing Jen up and down after closing the bathroom door. “I wish my legs were as long and slim as yours, I’m so envious.”
“Oh stop that, your legs are fantastic,” Jen said, glancing down at Monique’s legs. Monique wore a mini-dress that showed even more leg than Jen’s, and her legs were encased in black hose, just like Jen. Even while returning the compliment, Jen knew that Monique was right, her legs were nicer. The realization made her feel good, but then she felt guilty and catty. “Anyway, your breasts are so much bigger than mine,” Jen quickly added, the admission easing her guilt.
Monique beamed and gave Jen a hug. “Size isn’t everything, honey,” Monique said. Then both girls remembered their last conversation about penis size, and giggled. Even while laughing, Jen felt guilty, knowing part of the joke involved Michael’s size. Monique sensed the sudden cloud over Jen’s mood, and frowned. “Honey, you need to learn how to relax and have fun.”
Jen shrugged, uncertain what Monique meant. “I wore this dress.” While walking to the bathroom, the static cling of the lycra against her stockings caused her dress to hike up her legs. “It’s so short, I’m afraid people will see my stocking tops,” Jen said, tugging down her dress.
Monique laughed. “Honey, everyone already knows you’re wearing stockings! The dress is so tight you can see the bumps of your garter belt.”
Jen looked down and was horrified to see that Monique was right. How hadn’t she noticed this before? “Oh my god, I can’t go out like this,” she said anxiously.
Monique squeezed Jen’s arm reassuringly. “Honey, this is what I mean, you worry too much. Anyway, men like seeing garter bumps, you’ll have them eating out of your hand. Just remember, whenever you wear a clingy dress like this, you’re on display. Dresses like this don’t hide much. Men will know you’re wearing a bra, too. They’ll be able to see your bra strap as easily as I can.”
“Oh,” Jen said, feeling foolish. She wasn’t used to wearing tight, sexy clothes like this. “So … are there different bras I should wear?”
Monique giggled. “No, silly. You shouldn’t wear a bra at all.”
“I can’t do that,” Jen said warily. “The material is so thin.”
“Of course you can. I’m not wearing a bra, and neither are most of the girls out there tonight.” Without asking for permission, Monique unzipped Jen’s dress. In one quick motion, she unsnapped the back clasp of Jen’s strapless bra, and pulled it away. Then Monique re-zipped Jen’s dress. Both girls looked into the mirror. The clingy fabric of the lycra dress molded itself around Jen’s small breasts. “You look lovely,” Monique said admiringly, unable to take her eyes off Jen’s perfectly shaped mounds. “Your breasts are so firm, you don’t need a bra.”
Jen looked doubtful. “But, the material’s so thin –”
“—that you might be able to see your nipples, if you get excited?” Monique said, completing Jen’s sentence. “Let’s see.”
Monique stepped back so she stood directly behind Jen. Monique was taller than Jen, so she easily looked into the mirror over Jen’s shoulder. Before she could protest, Monique moved her hands to Jen’s chest and cupped her friend’s breasts. “You’re so firm,” Monique cooed as she fondled Jen’s tits. She easily found Jen’s nipples through the stretchy lycra material and rubbed them between her thumbs and fingers. “God, your nipples get so hard.”
Jen didn’t know what to do. Looking in the mirror, she watched as Monique fondled her. She couldn’t help moaning as Monique rubbed her ultra sensitive nipples. She felt unsteady on her feet, and reached back to steady herself. In doing so she clutched Monique’s thigh, and felt the garter belt strap through the fabric of the older woman’s mini-dress. Jen reflexively pulled her hand away, but Monique grasped Jen’s hand and brought it back to her thigh. “It’s alright honey, I won’t bite.” Monique pulled up her skirt so Jen’s hand was on her lacy stocking top. Then Monique covered Jen’s hand with hers, and moved Jen’s hand until it rested on her garter strap. Jen couldn’t believe how soft Monique’s skin felt, and without thinking began caressing her friend’s thigh. “Oh yeah honey, that feels good,” Monique breathed into Jen’s ear.
Jen watched herself and Monique in the mirror, as if watching strangers in a movie. She continued to caress Monique’s exposed thigh as Monique cupped and fondled her breasts. Then Monique lowered her hands, her eyes on Jen’s bosom. “You’re right,” she said. “Your erect nipples do show through the dress. But don’t worry. Men like that. And Victor prefers his girls to go braless.”
Monique slid her hands down Jen’s front, over her firm tummy, and then still downward. She grasped Jen’s skirt and pulled it up, exposing her stocking tops, then garter straps, and finally her lacy black panties. “So pretty,” Monique said as she eyed the camel toe formed in Jen’s wet panties. Monique wrapped Jen’s soft blonde hand in her hand and gently tugged, pulling Jen’s head back. “You’re so pretty,” Monique said softly, gazing into Jen’s face. Then Monique covered Jen’s lips with hers.
Jen tried to pull away, but the taller woman held her tight. Monique snaked her tongue into Jen’s mouth, and despite herself, Jen couldn’t help noticing how soft Monique’s tongue felt compared to a man’s. She also couldn’t believe how soft and full Monique’s lips felt against hers. Jen tensed as she felt Monique’s hands slide lower on her body.
This was not what she had expected when she followed Monique into the bathroom. She had never desired another woman, but if she was being truthful, she would have to admit she sometimes wondered what it would be like. Then, before Jen could object further, Monique slid one of her soft hands inside her panties.
Monique’s technique so differed from a man’s. She knew exactly what to touch, when to touch it, and how much pressure to use. It was almost like she was fingering herself. Within moments, Jen came on Monique’s hand, her urgent moans quieted by Monique’s mouth over hers, her body arching backwards into Monique’s welcoming body, her toes curling in her high heels.
“That was — that was amazing,” Jen gasped, as Monique finally allowed her to pull away.
Monique gave Jen a few moments to catch her breath, and then she pressed her body against Jen’s. “Is it my turn now?” Monique asked as she pulled up her skirt and pressed Jen’s hand against her pussy. Monique wasn’t wearing any panties.
Jen pulled back. “I — I don’t know …” she stammered.
Monique smiled, and brushed her hand against Jen’s cheek. “That’s okay, honey, I know this is all new for you. I won’t rush you.”
Trying to hide her disappointment, Monique reached into her purse and pulled out lip gloss. “Here, let me fix your make up.” Feeling awkward but not knowing what else to do, Jen stood still as Monique gently applied the gloss until Jen’s lips were a wet glossy luster.
“There, now you’re perfect again,” Monique said. She paused, her eyes locked on Jen’s face. She affectionately brushed one of Jen’s blonde locks off her face. “You’re so darn pretty,” she said with a crooked smile.
Jen blushed, not knowing what to say. So much had just happened. She turned to leave the bathroom. Almost impulsively, Monique grabbed her arm and brought her face close to Jen’s. “I know you like really big cocks,” Monique breathed into Jen’s ear, causing the young blonde to shudder. “But you haven’t lived until you’ve felt a woman’s tongue against your clit.”
Jen hurried from the bathroom, feeling unsteady in her high heels. It had gotten crowded. She looked for Michael but didn’t see him. Confused and needing to settle her nerves, she went to the bar and ordered a white wine. She drank it quickly, and ordered another.
“Party girl, that’s what I like,” Jen heard someone say behind her. She turned and saw it was Mark. She blushed, remembering how she had teased him a few weeks back.
“Don’t stop on my account,” Mark said, a big grin on his face. “I like a girl who knows how to have fun.”
“I was just thirsty,” Jen said, knowing how feeble her excuse sounded even as she said it. She turned back to the bar, hoping Mark would go away.
Instead, Mark offered his hand. “We’ve never been formally introduced. I’m Mark.”
Jen reluctantly swiveled to face Mark, and politely smiled. “I’m Jen,” she said, briefly grasping Mark’s offered hand.
“You and your husband – Mike, right? – you hang around with Victor and Monique a lot.”
Jen blushed again. “Sometimes we do,” she said. Did Mark know? Jen noticed that Mark watched her lips as she spoke, not her face.
“So … do you guys get together outside the club, too?”
“Well, sometimes,” Jen stammered, her discomfort magnified as Mark kept his eyes focused on her mouth. “Is it any of your business?” she asked defiantly.
Mark laughed dismissively. “Don’t get upset, I’m just making conversation.”
“I’m not getting upset,” Jen said defensively. She didn’t like this man. Jen judged him to be a rich lawyer with family money, a person used to getting whatever he wanted.
Mark smiled and moved closer so only Jen could hear. “So, are you giving us another show tonight?”
Jen looked bewildered. “Show? What do you mean?”
“Come on,” Mark said in a condescending voice. “I know your type. You like to show off your body.”
“I do not!” Jen said indignantly.
Mark looked at Jen knowingly, and she blushed, remembering again how she had exposed her legs to him a few weeks ago. He sniggered mockingly as he saw Jen’s obvious discomfort, humiliating her even more. He took a step back, and looked Jen up and down. His hungry eyes focused on her bosom. “That dress shows you off well. Nice choice.”
Jen flushed under Mark’s leering gaze. She knew she was showing off a lot in the dress. The dress barely reached her mid-thigh. To her horror, she realized her nipples were still erect and outlined through the thin stretching material. She wondered where Michael was. She wished he’d come and save her from this brute.
“Listen, you don’t need to play games with me. I know you’re swinging with Victor and Monique. My wife’s nothing much to look at.” Mark gestured over his shoulder, and Jen saw a woman sitting across the room, chatting with other girls. His wife (her name was Suzanne) was cute, but overweight.
Then Jen felt Mark’s hand on her knee. She looked back. He was so close his lips almost touched her cheek. “I hear your husband’s trying to do some business. I’m well connected. I can introduce him to the right people.” Mark edged the tips of his fingers under Jen’s dress. “Provided, of course, I get what I want.”
Jen couldn’t believe Mark’s blatant proposition. “No thank you!” Jen said coldly, putting as much indignation into her voice as she could. She pushed Mark’s hand away and slid off the stool. But as she did, her skirt hiked up exposing her stocking tops and garter straps.
Mark gasped at the sight. “Thanks babe, now I’ll have something to fantasize about when I’m fucking my wife tonight.”
Jen blushed deep red. She hadn’t meant to flash Mark, but it was clear he thought she had done it on purpose. Worst, Mark’s wife had seen what had happened, and was walking quickly towards her.
Suzanne grabbed Jen’s arm. “I saw what you did, bitch! You stay away from my husband!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sure you’re mistaken. We were just talking.” Jen tried to pull her arm away but the larger woman was too strong. She glanced around the room, hoping to spot Michael, hoping he would help her. Where was he?
“Don’t lie to me, bitch!” Suzanne hissed angrily. She was practically shouting, and people were turning to look. “I’ve heard about you! I’ve heard about the games you play! Flaunting your body, using your looks to seduce men!”
Jen saw that everyone had turned to look at her. She flushed red, feeling even more exposed in her revealing dress. “Please,” Jen pleaded in a low voice. “This is all a mistake. We were just talking.”
“A mistake?” Suzanne mocked. She, too, had noticed the crowd around them. She intended to do everything she could to embarrass and humiliate the blonde slut. “Look at you! Your dress is practically see-through. Are you telling me you’re not trying to expose yourself? You’re a slutty exhibitionist! I saw you pull up your dress, exposing yourself to my husband!”
“No, it was an accident, I didn’t do it on purpose,” Jen pleaded, tears falling down her cheeks. Where was Michael? She needed him to save her from this!
“So you admit you exposed yourself to my husband? You slut! You look like a hooker, you should be walking the streets.” Suddenly Suzanne grabbed Jen’s long blonde hair, making Jen yelp in pain. Suzanne jerked Jen towards her so their faces almost touched. “Stay away from my husband!” Suzanne growled. “Or I swear to god, I’ll hurt you! I’ll cut off all your pretty hair, that’s what I’ll do!”
“Suzanne, let her go!” a stern voice commanded. Thank god, Jen thought, Michael had finally arrived.
But when Suzanne let go, Jen saw it wasn’t Michael. It was Victor.
Victor scowled into Suzanne’s face. “She made a pass at Mark,” Suzanne said, her arms crossed defiantly.
Victor glared at Mark, his muscular body towering over the smaller man. Mark took a step back, a wary look on his face. He was clearly intimidated by the large black man. The swagger Mark had shown just a few minutes before had vanished in the presence of the dominating Victor. “Come on honey,” he said conciliatorily. “Jen didn’t come on to me. It’s all a misunderstanding.”
Suzanne scowled at her husband. “Whatever,” she finally said. She grabbed Mark’s hand and pulled him away, casting a final deadly look at Jen before disappearing into the crowd.
Jen wiped away her tears and forced herself to stop crying. Feeling embarrassed and completely humiliated, she quickly walked away in the direction opposite to Suzanne and Mark. The crowd parted to let her through, but all eyes were on her, and the room was full of gleeful murmuring and snickers. Jen tried not to listen to the cruel things people were saying as she passed. Just wanting to get away, she entered an empty parlor off the ballroom. She collapsed into a chair and started sobbing uncontrollably.
After a few minutes she heard the door open. She felt comforting hands on her shoulders. “Finally, Michael is here,” she sighed to herself in relief. But when she turned her head, it wasn’t Michael. Again, it was Victor.
Victor hugged Jen into his arms. “I know you’re upset. Don’t be. Suzanne is a fat bitch, and her husband Mark is a lazy ass-hole. They live off family money. You’re way better than them.”
“She called me a slut!” Jen cried, tears streaming down her face. “She said I looked like a prostitute!”
Victor kissed away Jen’s tears. “She’s jealous, that’s all. She hates you because you’re so beautiful and sexy.” Victor hugged Jen tighter, and he continued to kiss away the tears on her cheek.
Jen leaned into Victor. It felt good in his strong arms, pressed against his muscular chest. She felt safe and secure. Victor’s lips moved from her cheeks to her mouth. When he kissed her she didn’t stop him.
Michael watched the door to the ladies room, anxiously waiting for his wife to emerge. He couldn’t believe how hot she looked, the tight black dress exposing her wonderful legs to mid-thigh, and her shapely legs encased in sheer black stockings. He knew she was wearing a garter belt from the telltale bumps, even before fondling her in the car as they drove to the club. He hadn’t wanted to go to the club after seeing what she was wearing. He wanted to jump her right then and fuck all night. But he had already told Victor they would be going.
Michael’s heart leaped when the door opened and Jen walked out, followed a few seconds later by Monique. He moved towards her, and then paused. Something appeared wrong. Jen looked flushed, and had a confused look on her face. Monique had an odd expression on her face, too. Disappointment? He got hard imagining what might have happened in the bathroom. His curiosity got the better of him, so instead of joining Jen, he hid in the crowd, watching her.
Jen walked to the bar and ordered wine. Things became more interesting when a man approached her (Michael had heard his name was Mark). It was clear Mark was hitting on Jen. Michael was about to join his wife and save her from Mark’s advances when he felt someone press against his back.
“Hi there handsome,” said a sultry voice. Michael turned. It was Monique.
Monique looked past Michael’s shoulder, at the bar. “Looks like Mark is hoping to get lucky tonight with your pretty wife,” Monique said in a playful voice.
“I need to get over there,” Michael said.
“No you don’t,” Monique said mischievously as she grabbed Michael’s shirt under his jacket. She teasingly ran her manicured nails over his back. “Let’s see what happens.”
Just then, Mark placed his hand on Jen’s knee. Monique sensed the sexual tension building in Michael’s body as they watched Mark caress Jen’s thigh, and edge his fingers under her dress.
“This really excites you, doesn’t it?” Monique whispered into Michael’s ear. “Watching as another man seduces your wife?”
They watched as Jen pushed Mark’s hand away, and then slid off the bar stool. Monique felt Michael’s breath catch in his throat as Jen’s dress rode high up her leg, exposing her stocking tops and garter belt. Monique smiled. “Very nice,” she whispered approvingly.
Suzanne grabbed Jen’s arm and started screaming at her. Alarmed, Michael took a step towards his wife, but Monique again pulled him back. “It’s okay,” she said reassuringly. “Over there, see? Victor is coming. He knows Mark and Suzanne better than you, he’ll handle it.”
Victor quickly diffused the situation, in the process humiliating Suzanne and Mark. Suzanne angrily stomped away, followed closely by Mark. Looking distraught, Jen hurried away in the opposite direction. Laughter and whispered gossip followed her as she disappeared into the east parlor, her face red with embarrassment and shame.
“Look,” Monique said, gesturing at Victor who was moving unnoticed in the opposite direction. “He’s going the back way to the east parlor.” She tugged Michael’s arm excitedly. “Come on, let’s go see.”
Monique led Michael to the hallway Victor had taken. It led away from the crowd, so they (like Victor) were unnoticed. They approached the door to the east parlor, but instead of going in, Monique pulled him into the room next door.
“Not many people know about this,” Monique explained as she pulled back curtains that covered one of the walls, uncovering a window into the east parlor. “It’s a one-way mirror. We can see them, but they can’t see us.” Monique flipped a speaker switch next to the window. “Now we can hear them, too.”
Michael gasped as he looked through the window into the parlor. Victor and Jen were locked in a passionate embrace, his mouth covering hers, his large black hands exploring her body.
Monique looked at Michael and saw the excitement in his face. She smiled, shaking her head in disbelief. “You really like this, don’t you?” She looked down and saw the tent formed in Michael’s pants. “You like watching your wife with another man.”
Monique reached down and unzipped Michael’s pants, pulling out his hard dick. He moaned as she wrapped her hand around his shaft. She glanced back at the window. Victor had pulled Jen’s skirt up around her waist, completely revealing the young blonde’s long stocking-clad legs. “Jen’s legs are soooo nice,” Monique cooed admiringly, and Michael nodded in agreement. Michael watched breathlessly as Victor snaked his hand into his wife’s panties, the filmy material straining against the black man’s large hand.
“Ohhh godddd,” Jen moaned as Victor fingered her.
“Get on your knees!” Victor commanded. “Suck my cock!”
Monique watched Michael as Jen got on her knees and pulled Victor’s cock out of his pants. She smiled when she saw the amazed expression on Michael’s face. “He’s really big, isn’t he?” she said, her eyes not leaving Michael’s face.
Michael glanced at her, and as he did Monique squeezed his penis, causing him to look down. Monique cupped his penis, almost all of it fitting within her small hand. Then Monique looked back through the window, Michael following her gaze. Even with both her hands, Jen struggled to hold Victor’s long, thick shaft. The size difference was startling. Michael looked back at Monique, and he found her looking at him, an amused expression on her face. Michael’s cheeks flushed red in embarrassment.
They heard a gagging sound and turned back to the window. They saw Jen with her mouth wide, trying to swallow Victor’s bulbous cockhead. She managed to swallow his cockhead and part of his shaft, but most of his shaft remained outside her mouth. He was too thick to swallow down her throat, and she gagged whenever Victor tried to stuff more in. Saliva flowed down her chin and covered her hands, the diamond of her engagement ring glistening from the slick moisture.
Michael panted excitedly, his eyes glued on his wife as she sucked Victor. Monique was wet watching Michael watch Jen and Victor. “You like watching Jen suck Victor, don’t you?” she said breathlessly.
“God yeah,” Michael grunted.
Victor pulled Jen to her feet. His heavy cock swung crudely back and forth as he moved Jen across the room until she faced a billiards table. He bent her at the waist so her tits pressed against the table’s velvet surface, and then pulled her skirt up passed her ass. With his foot, he pushed Jen’s legs apart, her high heels sliding across the waxed hardwood floors.
Jen gripped the sides of the table, bracing herself, as she felt Victor pull her panties to the side and position his cockhead at the lips of her pussy. “Ughhhh godddd!” she gasped as Victor penetrated her. “Oh god, oh god!” Jen wailed as Victor impaled her on more of his thick shaft.
Victor wrapped his black fingers in Jen’s blonde hair and pulled her head back so they were cheek to cheek. “You love my cock, don’t you bitch!” Victor hissed. “You want more of my big black cock, don’t you?”
“Oh god, yes!” Jen begged. She reached back and grabbed Victor’s pants, pulling him towards her. “Give it all to me!”
Michael and Monique watched as, inch-by-inch, Victor’s cock disappeared into Jen’s pussy. Finally he was completely inside, and then he began to pound her. Jen gripped the sides of the table as Victor savagely fucked her, her pretty face pressed against the velvet surface of the pool table.
It’s funny what you notice at times like this. Michael focused on his wife’s slim legs. Bent at the waist, her garter snaps dug into her tight ass. With each of Victor’s thrusts, she was lifted out of her heels. Then, after a particularly savage thrust, Jen’s high heels fell off her feet, and without interrupting their fucking rhythm, Victor kicked the shoes away. Jen had to stand on her tippy-toes as Victor continued his pounding, and Michael marveled at the beauty of his wife’s long legs as her thigh and calf muscles tensed with each of Victor’s thrusts into her pussy.
“Oh god, I’m cumming!” Jen cried.
“Not yet!” Victor growled. He pulled out and twisted Jen around so she faced him, pulling her legs around his waist. They both moaned as he shoved the full length of his cock back into her with a single lunge.
They started fucking again, but while just as desperate, their movements weren’t as frantic. Victor cradled Jen’s head in his hands, his lips covering hers, his tongue playing with hers. Jen’s legs were tightly wrapped around Victor’s waist, and her hands caressed Victor’s shoulders and neck. Michael realized with a start that they were no longer fucking, but making love.
In just a few more moments, both Victor and Jen tensed, and then they came together, their backs arching, each panting and moaning into the other’s mouth. After cumming they didn’t pull apart, but instead remained wrapped in each other’s arms. Finally Victor pulled out, and from his vantage point Michael could see Victor’s thick milky seed gush out of his wife.
“Oh my god,” Jen giggled as she stood, feeling Victor’s sperm run down her leg. Within moments her stocking tops were soaked. “I can’t go out there,” she said, concern in her voice. She pulled her skirt down, but her stockings were laddered at the knees from kneeling on the floor, and Victor’s sperm was running further down her legs.
Victor chuckled. “Don’t worry. Come on, we’ll go out the back way.”
“Wait, I have to find Michael.”
Victor waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about him. I’m sure he’s having fun with Monique.” Victor saw the look of disbelief in Jen’s face and laughed. “You don’t think this is the only empty room, do you? I’m sure your husband has been completely occupied with Monique. I didn’t see him in the crowd, did you?”
Jen looked troubled. “No, but … I should call him, tell him where we’re going.”
Victor looked annoyed. “Whatever. Tell him we’re going to the Zebra Club. But do me a favor. Take off your wedding and engagement rings.”
“It aggravates me, to see you wearing those rings when you’re with me. When you’re with me, you’re with me. You’re not with him.”
“But … he’s my husband.”
Victor scoffed impatiently. “Where was he when Suzanne lashed out at you? Did he come to your side, defend you? No, I did. Where’s he now? He’s not with you, he’s with Monique. Listen, it’s all about respect. After what I’ve done for you — after the pleasure I’ve given you – I’m asking for some respect.”
Jen looked uncertain. Then, hesitantly, she pulled off her wedding and engagement rings, and put them into her purse.
Victor smiled. “Good,” he said approvingly. He took her hand – her ringless left hand – and led her from the room.
“Hi honey. Victor is taking me to the Zebra Club. Do you want to go?”
“Sure,” Michael said into his cell phone. “Monique and I will meet you by the valet.”
“Oh,” Jen said, sounding guilty. “We’ve already left. Why don’t you meet us there? Monique knows where it is.”
Michael hung up, annoyed they hadn’t waited so they all could go together. Forcing a smile onto his face, he offered his arm to Monique. “They’ve already left, for the Zebra Club. Shall we go and join them?”
Monique easily saw through Michael’s forced smile. She could tell he was annoyed and hurt. Amused, she shook her head. “I think I’ll stay here. Go ahead without me.” She smiled knowingly. “I’m sure you’ll have fun.” Then Monique described how to get to the Zebra Club.
Michael got into his car and started driving across town. He was relieved Monique wasn’t going. He still felt embarrassed, remembering how she had teased him about how small he was compared to Victor. She hadn’t said anything directly, but she had teased him nonetheless, having cupped his entire erect penis in one of her hands while they watched Jen struggle to hold Victor’s long heavy rod while using both her hands.
But that wasn’t the only reason for his embarrassment. Monique had seen him get so excited watching his wife with another man. She had seen a part of him he wasn’t yet ready to admit to himself, much less reveal to another person. Even worst, he had cum as Jen begged Victor to fuck her even deeper with his long thick cock. The memory caused his penis to stiffen, but also shamed him. He didn’t understand these desires. But at that moment, understanding wasn’t important to him. He just wanted to get to the Zebra Club so he could continue to watch Jen with Victor.
Jen shifted uncomfortably in her heels. Even after freshening up in the bathroom, Victor’s cum still leaked from her pussy. Her stocking tops were soaked, and the moisture was edging down her thighs towards her knees. She wanted to take off the stockings, but Victor insisted she leave them on. She worried about Michael’s reaction when he discovered she had let Victor have her in the club.
But the soiled stockings were also a thrilling reminder of her recent sex with Victor. The memory made her tingle. God, he was so good! He seemed to know all her erogenous zones. He knew where to touch her, and when, and how hard or soft, and how fast or slow. His body was so nice. Not just his penis, which was amazing, but he was so big and strong, so hard and muscular.
Victor put his arm around her, and the tingling increased. She felt weak-kneed around him, and her damp thighs made her feel so naughty. She wanted him again. She craved his body and his touch.
Then she remembered Michael, and she felt guilty. She was happily married. She shouldn’t so brazenly desire another man, even if she did have her husband’s permission. Her thumb touched her ring finger – her ringless ring finger – and her feelings of guilt increased. She nervously glanced around the room. Had Michael arrived? Had he seen she wasn’t wearing her wedding and engagement rings? She chided herself. Victor was supposed to be just a fuck partner, someone to play with while Michael played with Monique. A friend with benefits, that’s all. It wasn’t right to have such strong feelings and desires for him. She shouldn’t have taken off her rings.
Jen saw Michael enter the club, and waved. “Michael’s here,” she said to Victor.
“Where’s Monique?” Victor asked as Michael approached alone.
“She wanted to stay at the club, so she didn’t come.”
Victor broke into a big smile. “Maybe not yet, but she’ll be cumming soon.” He laughed. “I told you she’s a fickle bitch. She’s had her eye on the new bartender the club just hired. He’s probably banging her in the store room at this very moment.”
Jen felt a mix of emotions. A part of her was relieved. She didn’t like her husband with the beautiful Monique, so was glad she had moved on to a new partner. Another part of her was anxious. How did this work? With Monique moving on to someone else, would Victor move on too? Jen found (with no small amount of guilt) that she didn’t like that idea. The cravings of her body couldn’t be turned off like a light switch.
Victor seemed to read her mind. “Now we can have even more fun,” he said with a lecherous smile on his face.
“What do you mean?” Jen asked, feeling both excited and a little scared. Her blue eyes grew wide as Victor told her what he had in mind.
“Now you’ve got both me and Mike all to yourself,” he said, looking first at Jen, then at Michael. “Let’s go to my place so I can show you both how much fun we can have.”
They took a taxi, with Jen sandwiched between Victor and Michael in the back seat. Jen fidgeted nervously. While her body longed for another go with Victor, she knew she’d be self conscious with Michael there. Also, she didn’t know how to handle the wedding ring issue. She covered her left hand with her right, not wanting Michael to see she was ringless.
Victor noticed Jen’s nervousness, and her attempts to hide her left hand. He inwardly chuckled, having dealt with this situation before.
“Mike, I asked Jen to take off her wedding rings when she’s with me. You don’t mind, right?” Victor said it as a question, but it came out sounding like a command.
Michael was thrown off-guard, surprised at Victor’s directness. “That’s okay, I guess,” he said without thinking.
Jen looked surprised, and then troubled. Before she could say anything, she felt Victor place an arm around her, and then he kissed her cheek. “See, honey, I knew Mike wouldn’t mind. He understands, when you’re with me, you’re with me. Right Mike?”
“Yeah, sure,” Michael said, trying to hide his annoyance. He didn’t like Victor calling Jen “honey,” but he thought he’d look foolish protesting, given everything else.
“Mike, get us some drinks, okay?” Victor said as soon as they arrived. Again Victor said it as a request, but it came out as a command. Victor winked at Michael. “Your pretty wife and I will meet you in the living room.”
Michael went to the wet bar and pulled out glasses and a bottle of Grey Goose. But the bar’s icemaker was off. It took a while to go to the kitchen to get ice. By the time Michael finally arrived in the living room with a tray of martinis, at least 15 minutes had passed.
Victor and Jen were on the sofa, making out. As they French kissed, Victor’s hand fondled her breasts. She was braless under her dress (her bra probably still in the club’s bathroom after Monique took it off her), and Victor rubbed her erect nipples as they protruded through the dress’s stretchy material.
Michael was annoyed. He had assumed they would wait for him. He cleared his throat to announce his arrival, and the couple pulled apart.
Jen looked guilty that they had started without him. She hadn’t wanted to, but as soon as they sat down, Victor had pulled her to him. She was finding she couldn’t resist him, and that made her feel even more guilty.
Victor chuckled as he sensed Jen’s discomfort. He motioned at Michael’s crotch. A tent was formed in his pants. “See, honey, I told you Mike wouldn’t mind if we started without him. He likes watching us make out, don’t you Mike?”
Michael flushed red, not able to meet his wife’s eyes when she looked questioning at him.
Victor chuckled again and grabbed a martini, draining it in a single gulp. “Pot?” Victor asked, pulling out a pipe and filling it with weed. He lit it and took a long drag, then he offered it to Jen. Michael almost protested. It didn’t take much to get Jen stoned, and the drug always increased her horniness. He didn’t like the way the evening was going. Jen wasn’t wearing her wedding ring. Worse, Victor had humiliated him in front of his wife. But Michael didn’t want to respond to Victor’s statement that he liked watching Jen with other men, and pot seemed to be a good way to change the subject. When Jen looked at him, he nodded his head yes.
Victor brought the pipe up to Jen’s lips. She took a tentative short puff. When Victor didn’t remove the pipe, she took a longer drag. She closed her eyes as she felt the drug quickly move through her system, her body tingling, her skin extra sensitive. The pipe was removed, but then she felt something else against her lips. It was the rim of a martini glass. She opened her lips and let Victor slowly pour the vodka down her throat. Then Victor brought the pipe to her lips again, and she took another long drag.
Victor motioned to the sofa, and Michael sat next to him. Then he looked back at Jen. “Stand up,” Victor commanded. “Take off your dress.”
Jen’s head was spinning. The marijuana and vodka were clouding her thoughts. Yet, her body still burned with sexual desire, the lustful longings intensified by the pot working through her body. She knew it was wrong to undress for another man, especially with Michael being so near. But that voice inside her was muted by the vodka and pot. Her body desired sex, she needed fucked. In her dazed state, she rationalized that she couldn’t get fucked until she took off her clothes. So she stood, unsteady in her high heels. She reached behind her with both hands. In her dazed state, it took longer than usual, but finally she managed to pull down the zipper. Then she wiggled out of the tight lycra dress. She stood in just her panties, garter belt, stockings and heels.
Michael’s eyes were drawn to the crusty off-white film that had dried on his wife’s panties and stocking tops. He immediately recognized it; Victor’s dried sperm. His cock grew uncomfortably hard in his pants. He saw how Victor’s influence over his wife was growing. He suspected this night was going to turn out bad, and he knew he should grab Jen and get the hell away. But he couldn’t take his eyes off the dried cum on his wife’s stocking tops. Despite all his misgivings, he knew he needed to watch Victor fuck Jen again.
Jen saw where Michael was looking. She looked down and saw the dried cum on her nylons. Even though the haze, she grew alarmed. She blushed, and moved to take off the stockings. “I told you to leave them on,” Victor said, his voice low but commanding.
Jen hesitated, her fingers lingering on the snaps of her garter belt. She didn’t know what to do. She desperately wanted to take off the stockings, to remove from her husband’s eyes the evidence of her earlier sex with Victor.
Victor smiled. He was enjoying himself immensely. It was so easy to manipulate married couples like Mike and Jen. So easy, and so much fun.
He glanced at Michael. “You want your wife to leave the stockings on, don’t you?”
Michael still hadn’t been able to take his eyes off his wife’s cum-soiled stockings. “Yeah,” he said in a hoarse whisper, his throat dry. “I want her to leave them on.”
Victor’s smile broadened. He looked into Jen’s eyes. “See honey, nothing to worry about. Now come here. Get on your knees.”
Jen hesitated again. Through the fog of the pot and vodka, it felt wrong. She wasn’t wearing her wedding ring. She had another man’s sperm dried on her panties and stockings. This was all wrong.
Victor sensed Jen’s continued reluctance. He turned to Michael. “Don’t you agree, Mike? Jen should kneel down in front of us?”
Michael was panting. Jen looked so good standing in nylons and heels. The cum stains on her stocking tops heightened his excitement. These desires bothered him, but now was not the time to think about it. “Yeah, Jen,” he said breathlessly. “Victor’s right. Get down on your knees, right here in front of us.”
Victor smiled triumphantly. “See, honey?” he said soothingly. “Mike agrees with me.” He gestured at Michael’s crotch, where his erection formed a tent in his pants. “It excites him.”
Looking confused, Jen got onto her knees.
“That’s a good girl,” Victor said approvingly. “Mike, slide closer to me. That’s right. Now Jen, pull down Mike’s pants, and remind him how good your mouth feels.”
Jen pulled down Michael’s trousers, and then his underwear. His penis stood straight in the air. She couldn’t remember the last time he had been so hard. She wrapped her fingers around his shaft. Michael moaned from his wife’s light touch.
“Take him into your mouth,” she heard Victor say. “Suck him.”
Jen lowered her head and took Michael’s cockhead into her mouth. She pumped his shaft as she sucked him, pleased to hear her husband’s moans.
“Finish undressing him,” Victor said. “Come on, make him feel comfortable.”
Jen pulled off her husband’s pants, socks and shoes. Michael unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it onto the floor.
Jen lowered her head over her husband’s crotch, swallowing his cock again into her mouth. With her nose buried in his pubic hair, she licked Michael’s shaft. Michael writhed and moaned as his wife sucked him, loving the sight of his wife’s face buried in his crotch as much as the sensations of his penis in her warm soft mouth.
At 26, Jen still looked like a co-ed, a young college freshman. She always got carded at bars and restaurants. That’s why Michael loved seeing his wife’s head bobbing on his penis. The sight of his cock fucking Jen’s innocent school-girl face was such a turn on.
Victor tapped Michael on his shoulder. “Mike – what do you say – my turn?”
In his passion, Michael couldn’t think of anything he wanted to see more than Jen going down on Victor. He wanted to see the black man fucking his wife’s pretty, innocent face. He wanted to see Jen’s silky blonde hair swaying back and forth over Victor’s black thighs as she bobbed her head on his black cock.
“Yeah,” Michael panted. He pulled Jen’s head off his cock. She looked at him. “It’s Victor’s turn.”
Jen hesitated. She felt uncomfortable going down on Victor with Michael sitting right next to him. But she saw the look in Michael’s eyes, a mixture of lust and encouragement. He wanted her to go down on Victor. And she couldn’t deny her own body’s desires. She wanted Victor again.
Jen reached for Victor’s waist and unbuckled his belt. She unzipped his pants. Victor lifted his ass as Jen pulled down his pants. He was hard, his cock forming a huge mound in his briefs. Jen’s eyes grew wide. She still wasn’t used to his size. Then she reached up and pulled down his briefs. Victor’s cock popped out when the waistband passed. “God,” she admired. Victor was only half hard, his cock like a long thick python.
“Stroke me,” Victor commanded. Jen reached for him. She held him with both hands, one hand on top of the other. Still her hands couldn’t completely cover his long shaft. As she stroked him, he got harder, and even bigger. He became so thick her thumbs couldn’t touch her index fingers.
“Suck me,” Victor ordered, and Jen lowered her head over his crotch. Still holding his shaft with both hands, she opened her mouth wide and struggled to swallow his big cockhead.
Michael was mesmerized by the sight of his wife with Victor. He couldn’t believe the size of Victor’s cock. He had seen it before, but not this close, not sitting right next to him. His gaze shifted uncomfortably between Victor’s cock, and his own. The difference was startling. Victor towered above Michael. The comparison made Michael feel insecure and inadequate.
But for whatever perverted masochistic reason, it also aroused him. He grew harder, and his excitement grew so much he almost started to shake. He wrapped his hand around his cock and began to stroke himself.
Victor noticed Michael’s arousal. He knew lots of white guys like Michael. It didn’t surprise him that Michael got turned on seeing his wife with another man, especially a well hung black man. “You enjoy watching this, don’t you?” he asked derisively.
Michael didn’t answer, although the mockery in Victor’s voice made him reddened with shame. Still, he didn’t stop stroking himself. Jen had heard Victor and, with Victor’s cockhead still in her mouth, she looked sideways at her husband. She saw him playing with himself, red-faced and panting, his eyes locked on Victor’s cock in her mouth.
She noticed how easily her husband held himself with just one hand, his curled fingers forming a cone that engulfed his entire erect penis, except for the top of his cockhead. She couldn’t help comparing her husband’s penis to what she was holding in her hands, what she had in her mouth. She remembered the football players from her teens, and how they looked so nice in their tight pants, their large penises outlined in the stretch material. Michael’s small size had never bothered her before, but she wondered if that was still true.
To her relief, Jen didn’t dwell on these thoughts. She couldn’t. As Victor tried to force more of his cock down her throat, it was all she could do to keep from gagging.
Victor pulled off his shirt, then lifted Jen off the floor. At the same time, he kicked off his pants, briefs and socks. Both Victor and Michael were completely naked, sitting side-by-side on the sofa, while Jen remained in just her nylons, garter belt, panties and high heels.
Victor held Jen suspended above him, her stocking-clad legs straddling his crotch. “Are you ready for it, honey?” Victor said as he lowered Jen onto his cock. Michael’s eyes were drawn to Victor’s crotch. He excitedly watched as the black man’s huge cock inched toward his wife’s pussy.
“Gaaawwwd,” Jen groaned as Victor penetrated her with his swollen cockhead. Jen’s eyes were closed and her teeth clenched, as if steeling herself for further penetration by Victor’s thick cock.
Victor held Jen’s hips and slowly pushed in and out, each time edging more of his cock inside the young blonde wife. Michael slowly stroked himself, matching the pace of Victor as he pumped in and out of his wife.
Beads of sweat formed on Jen’s forehead, and she tightly clutched Victor’s bulging biceps as if to balance herself. Victor’s pace quickened and soon almost all his cock was buried inside Jen’s pussy.
Michael couldn’t believe Jen had taken all of Victor inside her. How could it all fit? Michael looked down again, and saw Jen’s pussy stretched tight around Victor’s thick rod, her pussy molded around the large veins running up his shaft. Michael’s erect penis excitedly twitched in his hand. Michael loosened his grip, not wanting to cum too fast.
“Let me down,” Jen said, moving Victor’s hands off her hips. Up to that point, Victor’s strong arms had supported most of her weight. Any good sense Jen had left was buried in her frenzied lust for Victor’s muscular body and huge cock. She wanted him, needed him. Jen got on her knees, and then began to move slowly up and down on Victor’s cock. With his hands free, Victor cupped and fondled Jen’s tits, rubbing her erect nipples between his fingers.
Jen moaned as Victor fondled her tits. She increased her pace. Michael looked at his wife. She seemed to be in another world, ecstasy painted on her pretty face. Michael hadn’t ever seen Jen look that way before. It was like she was suspended in a continuous orgasm. Michael noticed that, as Jen rode Victor, she ran her hands over Victor’s muscular chest and arms, her manicured nails scratching along his hard pectorals and biceps. Not able to resist, Michael tightened his grip around his shaft and stroked himself faster.
Suddenly, Jen threw her head back. “Ahhh ahhhh ahhhhhhhh,” she groaned as her body tensed. “I’m cuuummming!” Jen threw her arms around Victor’s muscular neck as she rapidly rubbed her pelvis against his. Victor placed his hand behind Jen’s head and pulled her lips to his, kissing her. Jen passionately kissed him back, moaning into his mouth as her orgasm peaked.
Seeing his wife cum on another man’s cock, seeing her locked in an embrace with her lover as her orgasm rippled through her body, it was too much for Michael to take. Grasping his cock even tighter, he pumped twice more. He moaned as he came, his sperm spilling from his cockhead and over his hand.
Jen breathed heavily as she remained locked in Victor’s arms. Her head lay against Victor’s muscular chest as she tried to catch her breath. She heard Victor chuckle. “Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked in a contemptuous tone.
Jen pulled back from Victor and followed his eyes. He was looking at Michael. Michael was breathing heavy too, his hand still wrapped around his penis and covered with sperm. Michael suddenly felt self-conscious, and reached for a towel. He released his cock and wiped his hand.
Victor looked down at Michael’s crotch and chuckled derisively. Michael’s penis was soft again. It had shrunk so much it was almost hidden among the tangle of his public hairs.
“Come on honey, I’m not done with you yet,” Victor said to Jen. He lifted her off his cock and sat her beside him. “Let me feel that hot mouth of yours again,” he said as he grabbed the back of her head and pulled her to his crotch.
Jen lowered her head. Her orgasm had been fantastic, but she wasn’t yet satiated, especially with Victor’s hard cock in her face. With Michael sitting on the other side of Victor, she could see her husband as she licked Victor’s shaft.
Michael’s cock stirred again. As Jen licked Victor’s hard shaft, her eyes darted to her husband’s crotch. Michael almost shuddered as he saw his wife’s eyes on his penis as she went down on Victor’s huge cock. Michael’s penis twitched with excitement, and he wrapped his hand around his shaft and began stroking himself again.
Victor pulled Jen’s head off his cock, and laid her down on the sofa facing away from Michael. He got between her legs and pushed his cock inside her. It was a lot easier for Victor to penetrate her this time.
Jen moaned as Victor rammed his cock into her. “Harder, harder!” she frantically urged. Within moments, Jen arched her back as Victor’s cock sent her over the edge again. “God god gawwwwd!” she cried as waves of pleasure rippled through her body. As she came she tensed her shapely legs, the stilettos of her high heels digging into Michael’s thigh. Michael grimaced from the pain, but he didn’t pull his thigh away. Instead, he ran his hand over his wife’s shapely calf as he continued to play with himself.
“I’m close, honey!” Victor moaned. “Where do you want it? In your mouth? On your tits?”
“Inside me!” Jen answered immediately. “Cum inside me!”
Victor dug his toes into the sofa and, with the extra leverage, pounded Jen even harder. Michael couldn’t help admire Victor’s powerful ass and thigh muscles as he relentlessly pounded his wife’s pussy. So close to Jen as another man fucked her, and still caressing her stockinged legs, Michael felt dizzy with lust. Without thinking, he took off Jen’s shoe and pressed his hard penis against the sole of her foot. It felt so good, the warmth of her foot, the silky nylon against his cock.
Victor climaxed, his body jerking violently as he shot wave after wave of his sperm into Jen’s womb. Feeling the power of Victor’s ejaculation into his wife, Michael came too, shooting his jism into the sole of his wife’s foot. Victor buried his thick cock deep inside Jen, trapping his sperm inside the fertile womb of Michael’s wife. Michael panted breathlessly as he rubbed his cum along his wife’s foot with his softening penis, enjoying the feel of his cock against the nylon seam running across Jen’s toes.
Jen felt the wetness on her foot and looked past Victor’s broad shoulders. She realized what her husband had done. “Oh Michael, gross!” she said, instinctively kicking her husband away.
Victor glanced back at Michael. He laughed. “Mike, didn’t your mommy teach you about the birds and the bees?”
“That –” Victor pointed at Michael’s penis — “goes here” — he pointed at Jen’s pussy.
Then he looked at Jen. He had a big smile on his face, and shrugged. “Or maybe he has really bad aim.” They both looked at Michael, trying to keep a straight face. Then they both laughed.
Hearing his wife and her lover laughing at him, Michael felt dejected and small, and wished he were somewhere else.
Suzanne scowled at her husband Mark. There he was again, on the other side of the club, flirting with all the young, pretty girls. Suzanne hated those girls. They were all the same, tight young bodies with perky boobs and long shapely legs. She hated those girls. Or maybe it was Mark she hated. Didn’t he realize it was easy to have a tight body when you’re young? Wait until they have a few babies, and then see what they look like.
Suzanne knew Mark’s efforts were useless. The country club wasn’t fun for them anymore. No one wanted to swing with them. She inwardly sighed, knowing it was her fault. Mark was still handsome enough, but she had let herself go. Men didn’t desire her anymore.
It hadn’t always been that way. It wasn’t too long ago that she had a body that men lusted for. Big firm tits, a flat stomach, and shapely legs. Even now, her face was still cute, barely showing any age lines. But her body wasn’t what it used to be, not after three kids. Her tits were still big, but they sagged. She had gained weight around her stomach. She wore long dresses to hide the cellulose and varicose veins that came with the weight gain.
She saw Victor across the room, and a familiar longing washed over her. Just being in the same room with him got her wet. He looked better than ever, and the memory of what he sported inside his pants made her tingle all over. But it had been a long time since she’d been able to enjoy Victor’s body. She and Mark used to swing with Victor and Monique all the time, and their relationship lasted a long time, long enough for her to have 3 of Victor’s babies. It was hard having 3 half-black babies. The kids were almost ebony like their father, so it was clear Mark wasn’t the father. They were outcasts in their mostly white neighborhood.
Pregnancies are hard on a woman’s body, and Suzanne had always had a problem with her weight. As her body lost its firmness and she grew plump, Victor lost his interest in her. Suzanne suspected that was why Monique never had children. Victor insisted his women remain firm and shapely, so Monique didn’t want to risk losing her swimsuit model body.
Suzanne saw Jen across the room, and a scowl crossed her face. She hated that blonde bitch the most. It wasn’t just because she was Victor’s current slut. She hated Jen’s beauty. She was the prettiest girl in the room, by far. Suzanne saw other girls in the room scowling at Jen as their husbands gawked at the beautiful blonde. The dress she wore looked like it was air brushed on her, with a plunging neckline and an extremely short hem. The stiletto heels made her long legs look even longer. Jen was even prettier and sexier than Monique, but the amazing thing was, Monique didn’t seem to mind. Suzanne wondered if Jen had let Monique inside her panties yet. Maybe that’s why Monique liked Jen so much. Suzanne licked her lips as she remembered the things Monique had done to her, way back when.
Michael stood next to Jen. Suzanne followed his eyes. Michael was scanning the room, but not looking at girls. No, he was looking at other men, men who were looking at Jen. He was practically panting, seeing all the interest other men had for his wife. Suzanne shook her head. It looked like Michael liked swinging so he could watch his pretty wife get fucked by other men. What a cuckold. She scowled as she saw her husband Mark try to flirt with Jen. She knew Mark would love to get inside Jen’s panties. Her nostrils flared with anger. Well, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. They could have a threesome with Jen. Cucky Mike could sit in the corner as they took advantage of his wife’s body. She’d sit on Jen’s face and make her eat her out, and then as she came, she’d piss on the blonde slut’s pretty face and make her swallow her pee. Suzanne smiled at the thought.
Suzanne looked at Jen again, studying her. Her dress was so tight it showed every curve. She could make out Jen’s nipples, the bumps of her garter belt … god, she could even see the blonde’s camel toe. What a slut! It was obscene to wear such a dress. Even during her prime Suzanne never wore anything so revealing. But Suzanne had to admit she never looked as good as Jen.
But then Suzanne noticed something else. Was that a slight bump in Jen’s belly? Was she pregnant? If she were, there was no doubt in Suzanne’s mind the baby was Victor’s. He was the most fertile man on the planet. Victor liked to say he was fixed. But that was a lie he told to husbands so they’d let him go bareback with their wives. Victor liked planting his fertile seed in white wives, and watch them get big with his babies. He liked to fuck them with their big bellies as their husbands watched. That turned him on more than anything, she knew from her own experience.
Suzanne looked at pretty Jen with her tight body. A big grin crossed her face as she imagined what Jen would look like in a few years after having Victor’s babies. She won’t be as firm anymore, that’s for sure.
Then she looked at Mike. She imagined how sad he’d be, when men no longer desired his wife. But she had nice legs, Suzanne conceded. Even if her stomach wasn’t as flat, and her tits not as perky, guys would still fall over themselves for those legs. And Jen had a pretty, Cover-Girl face. A lot of guys would like to cum on that face.
Suzanne shrugged, and gave Michael a mental nod. If he liked watching his wife with other men, then he’ll be happy for a long time.