“Take your dress off, now!”

My heart beat a tattoo against my ribs, but I knew better than to argue when Ryan used his dominant voice. His tone was commanding and hard-edged, but the faster I did what he asked the sooner I’d get my reward. A hungry ache began to build between my thighs, as I thought of him pussy licking me to oblivion.
I reached behind my back to loosen the clasp at the top of my gown. Dragging the zip it peeled away from my shoulders before dropping to the floor, exposing my body, dressed only in the underwear he had selected for me to wear for our dinner party. The black bra had low cups which barely concealed my nipples. It was strappy around the decolletage, trapping the swell of my breasts—Ryan adored my big tits and encouraged me to display and play with them frequently. All the attention lavished on them kept my nipples super responsive, sometimes he made me come solely from breast play.
I stood confidently as Ryan took a 360-degree tour around me. I looked good tonight. The black silk stockings and suspender belt he’d chosen framed my legs and buttocks to perfection. Having visited the beauty salon yesterday, I was as smooth as silk, with buffed nails and a fresh pedicure. I had pinned up my hair in a sophisticated style this evening, showing off my long neck.
“Very nice,” Ryan admired, and I felt a swell of pride to have pleased him. I was his sexual fantasy.
“Your arse looks delectable. We’ll get rid of this.” He tugged away the evening dress which pooled around my feet. “Keep your shoes on, they firm your buttocks and make you stick out your tits!”
See what I mean? He loves my tits, and I love him admiring them. A warm trickle of excitement gathered in my pussy—I get off on being objectified.
“Stand at the end of the table Sienna. Spread your legs, rest your hands on the surface.”
Less than an hour ago, there had been guests around this table. Friends of ours who had chatted over dainty starters, a succulent main and a sticky dessert decorated with red fruit coulis. The wine had been in abundance and the conversation had flowed, but I was on tenterhooks. waiting to be alone with my master. His eyes had burned with such intensity. I’d watched him engage people in conversation but flick back to me frequently, I knew the dining part of the evening was just the appetiser.
My underwear was not the only thing Ryan had picked out for me to wear this evening, he’d also chosen our remote control love egg. I’d coated it with water-based lube and nestled it inside my pussy, wishing he’d put some knickers out for me to wear! They would only have provided a thin layer of protection but may have prevented my pussy and thighs being this soaked after a couple of hours with Ryan manipulating the remote control.
Ryan was examining me closely now, his warm breath brushed against my hip as he studied me, before he blew gently over my soaked labia, making me tingle and shrink.
“Looks like someone’s had a fun evening,” he gloated, and my face burned with shame. I tried not to come earlier, but being unable to predict when Ryan was going to activate the egg buried in my pussy, I’d found it difficult to hold myself back from the edge. The rumbles had begun early while I’d carried the starters to the table. Clenching my kegel muscles I’d held the device in place but when I sat down, the position of the silicone coated egg had adjusted to rest against my G-spot—no amount of wriggling or trying to sit with my weight on only one buttock would move it.
As our guests commented on how beautifully the food complemented the wine, I’d pasted on a Mona Lisa smile while I silently experienced an orgasm. Pressing my legs together to contain the waves of pleasure while my nails dug into the palms of my hands in an effort to keep a blank face.
Ever the tormentor, Ryan soon raised a toast to me, saying didn’t I look well, simultaneously switching the egg onto a particularly violent strobing pattern. I thought I would go cross-eyed! I had to fight the urge to groan aloud and thrust my hips with lusty abandon. All attention became focused on me—our friends charged their glasses, clinking them together in the toast. I held it together while my pussy screamed with excitement. However, my best friend Eva remarked that I looked a little flushed.
I brushed off her concern and, with almost no tremble in my voice, toasted Ryan back, mentioning the big deal he’d pulled off at work. The buzz of conversation reverted to his end of the table. Thankfully the buzz between my legs also relented so I was able to sip my wine without the glass rattling against my teeth.
I snapped back to the present. Ryan just sank his teeth into the plump orb of my right buttock. His teeth dug in hard and he fastened his lips to me. Sucking the trapped flesh deeply, he marked me as his with a love bite that tingled and burned. When he “branded” me as his property I swelled with pride, like when he used the flat of his hand to slap my other buttock hard. I groaned, low and feral. One of his rules for me was to keep my skin soft and moisturised, smooth and hair-free. I should maintain a perfect canvas for the occasions he chose to mark me with bites or bruises, we both enjoyed the taboo idea of him punishing me.
Right now I wanted to wriggle away from the burning pressure of his teeth, but I stayed in position as he began to massage and probe my slobbering pussy with questing fingers. My knees nearly buckled when he brushed the tip of my clitoris, so alert to stimulation after my earlier orgasm.
“My greedy girl, you have sucked the egg in deep,” Ryan observed, burying several fingers in my pussy to locate the toy. Once he grasped it and drew it out, he used the remote to switch it to a low vibrate before rubbing and massaging it over the subcutaneous flesh of my clitoris.
It felt so fucking good I bucked against his hand and bit my lip. I knew I wasn’t meant to move.
“Please Master…” I groaned.
“What do you need, little one?” he teased, massaging my tit with one hand.
“I—I need to come,” I mewled. The dual stimulation was indescribably exciting, causing my abdomen to tighten painfully while my spread legs strained to keep me upright.
“Didn’t you already come without permission Sienna?” his silky voice held an edge of sternness which made my belly flutter with exhilaration.
“Yes Master,” I hung my head, a blush rising.
“So you know the answer.” He removed the egg from teasing my labia and released my breast.
I was bereft as he moved away, the weight of his disapproval hung in the air. I knew all my orgasms belonged to him. Climaxing without his permission, I’d painted myself into a corner and no amount of begging would persuade him to let me come now.
Unable to see what Ryan was doing behind me, amongst the muffled noises I thought I detected a zip unfastening.
“Turn around Sienna, and drop to your knees.”
I complied and found him sitting on the chair from which he’d presided over our dinner party, still dressed in his evening suit trousers and waistcoat, simply having removed his jacket. My excitement spiked, however, observing that his cock stood erect, proud and swollen in the gap of his open flies. my mouth watered, like one of Pavlov’s dogs, I was hungry to take him between my lips to pleasure him orally.
The dining room floor is hard, stripped wood, but I barely felt any discomfort as I knelt to lave him with my tongue, sucking and licking him up and down. I sank my mouth onto his straining shaft and revelled in the touch of its tip at the back of my throat. The slight choke it activated always made my eyes and mouth water, but I loved the way his girth filled me.
I gazed up at Ryan’s rapt expression, happy to be able to bring him pleasure this way. I always felt a surge of power when I gave him head, it was one of the few times when I controlled his sensations, the speed and depth of penetration. I sucked hard on his member as I continued to bob my head.
When Ryan buried his fingers in my blonde tresses he took back control. He began to fuck my face, using my mouth as a hole, a channel with which to pleasure himself. My pussy twitched as my head swirled, I loved it when he used me. As I knelt at his feet, him clothed and me wearing just underwear, a line was drawn regarding who was the boss. Grabbing a handful of my hair he tilted my head back to look at him.
“You’re pretty good at that, greedy girl. But I’m hungry for my main course.”
He raised me to my feet. “What a mess you’ve made,” indicating a pool of my juices on the floor where I’d knelt. “Lie back on the table and part your thighs.”
Obedient to a fault, I lay back, knowing the heat of my desire was spread open for him to see. My breasts and pussy were still framed by the black underwear, only now the shiny pink folds of my pussy were slick with arousal and hungry for penetration. He used his hands to push my thighs against my ribs, splaying me wide. Removing my shoes so my feet brushed against my buttocks, Ryan bent to lick me, perineum up to clitoris, the flat of his tongue both teasing and soothing.
“You taste so fucking good!” Ryan’s control almost slipped, I heard it in his voice, which caused my cunt to twitch in appreciation. Maybe he sat in the chair, all I know is that he began to lick, suck and nibble at my pussy in a concerted attack. My head dropped back against the wood of the table, my hair spread out like a mermaid.
“Play with your tits Sienna,” he growled before pressing his mouth once more against my slick lower lips. Obediently I commenced pinching and plucking the responsive tips of my nipples, and it wasn’t long before they darkened and puffed to tight buds which zinged sensation to my clit with every touch.
Ryan’s tongue was penetrating me now, making darts into my heated core while his arms pulled me further down the table. His nose rubbed and nudged my clit while he licked inside me. I couldn’t help moaning out loud.
“I’m going to count you down from 10 Sienna,” he told me. “If you don’t come when I reach 1, I will assume you don’t want to come at all, but I will continue to edge you.”
Shit! This game was the hardest. I was feeling spacey with arousal right now, but could I come on command? I had to try because I couldn’t face a night of frustration. I grasped the tender tissue of my nipple in a pincer grip, dragging the engorged flesh out long. I licked my fingers to tease trails of cooling saliva around the sensitive puckered stalks. I bore down with my pelvis against the ministrations of Ryan’s tongue and tightened my pelvic floor muscles, trying to enhance the pulsing of my pussy walls. I could feel the pressure of an orgasm building, but …
“Six,” he counted.
If only they could see me now, I pictured the guests who had so recently sat at our table. My pussy throbbed in response. Imagine it Sienna, imagine displaying yourself. Focus on being so depraved that you are lying on the table touching between your legs, swirling your slippery fingers against your clit while Eva and Jeremy watch you.
“Look how wet she’s getting darling!” Lucinda’s partner Michael might exclaim excitedly. “You should get your snatch waxed Luce, I can see every pulse and throb in Sienna’s. it’s very sexy.”
“I wish I had big tits like Sienna,” Lucinda might pout.
“So do I darling, yours are just buds, like Jelly Tots! I’m getting very stiff watching Sienna pull and twist her own nipples. Why don’t you do that?”
“I will in future Michael, look how juicy it gets her.”
“Can we touch her Ryan?” Sienna imagined them pleading. Ryan of course allowing them to pinch, stroke and finger her, causing a multitude of dizzying sensations while he began teasing her anus with the tip of his hot tongue.
“—Two, One!” Ryan’s voice boomed, the signal for my climax, which immediately began. It pulsed and kneaded at the fleshy walls of my pussy while enveloping me in warm bursts of sensation which set me soaring with elation.
Leaning forward, my lover began to suck and fondle my tits, as I lay on the table. He squeezed and pressed them together as if moulding them, while he capitalised on their sensitivity by nipping and biting at them. This really excited me. Returning to his position at the foot of the table, Ryan began to fuck me with his fingers until I was a slave to building sensations. I held my thighs open for more, despite my fingers slipping on the soft fabric of my black stockings.
Looking up at Ryan, I had the familiar sensation that I was a fly, skilfully trapped by the spider, as I watched him dominate me. He still looked so pristine in his white dress shirt, with gold links holding the double cuffs closed. His waistcoat looked formal, even his jutting cock looked engorged and full of purpose. In contrast, I lay spread out for him, unravelled by my lust and subjugation to his will. He could tease me all night and all I wanted to do was spread and beg, longing for him to take full possession of me, rather than just using fingers and tongue.
My wish was granted as Ryan thrust his hard cock into my salivating pussy. He pressed insistently into the depths of my eager, throbbing flesh. It felt as if a hundred glasses of water would never slake the thirst I had for his questing cock. He pumped at me like a mechanical toy, re-igniting my climax as if bouncing it off the walls.
He rubbed his fingers frenetically over my clit while wrapping my legs around his hips to thrust responsively to his deep penetration. When he twisted my knees to one side and penetrated me that way, I was aware of the slap of his balls against my buttocks. I kept stroking the pads of my fingers against my labia as they stretched to accommodate his turgid cock. I was so wonderfully filled I could hardly lie still, but Ryan held me in place while he varied the speed and depth of his penetration. Using my suspender belt for leverage he fucked me harder.
“Flip onto your stomach, greedy girl. I know you still want more. I plan to fuck you until you’re sore.”
I wanted him to use me, I turned over on the table with his help and he grasped my hips, pulling my torso down to its edge. I knew he was enjoying the view. Master has told me enough times how much my bubble butt turns him on. I wished I could see the vista he saw, what did the bite he gave me earlier look like? Was it big and red? Perhaps he’d sucked hard enough for it to have a purple tinge like a deep tissue bruise.
“C’mon my little cum slut!” Ryan urged me, “how much do you want this?”
I tried to grip the sides of the table to hold myself in place when he fucked me with a vengeance. Again, imagining our dinner guests sitting around like an audience made it so much hotter.
“Crack on there Ryan, she’s really up for it!” Michael might crow while Lucinda begins fondling his cock through the fabric of his trousers.
“He’s playing at her back door,” Eva would squeal, hard nipples jutting against the satin of her slip dress.
“Yeah and she bloody loves it,” Jeremy observes with envy as I thrash my head about in response to Ryan’s probing finger. “You haven’t let me do that since our honeymoon!”
“Let’s try it again tonight,” Eva’s voice, would likely be hoarse with lust, “Sierra looks so fucking abandoned. It’s getting my pussy wet just watching.”
I was so high on what Ryan was doing to me and imagining putting on a sexy show, that I barely registered him wanting me to come off the table. As he sank into the chair my motivation was purely to reciprocate the pleasure he’d given to me. Once again, I knelt between his legs to lower my mouth over his cock. This time though it’s coated with the musk of my arousal, which spiralled my primal response higher. It’s a sweet/sour taste which always turns me on. I feel as if I’ve marked him as my own, right to the root of his cock so I licked and slurped at his straining flesh with a hungry passion.
I was putting on a show again but this one was all for Ryan, for my master. I know he finds it exciting when I take him as deep into my throat as I can, that extra pressure at the back and the suction my mouth exerts is like fucking a really tight pussy. When I licked and drooled around the contours of his glans, I felt spurred on by him watching me with fascination so showboated with exaggerated licks and slurps. He enjoyed the view of my blonde head bobbing enthusiastically on his erection like it was the tastiest treat I’d ever had. He stroked my hair off my face while letting me worship his hard member with my mouth, and when I moaned as well as sucked, he exhaled with delight.
As my mouth began to tire a little, I brought my hands into play. It takes both my small hands to satisfy this man. Grasping and twisting them around his cock, I followed with a sliding upwards, coaxing motion, encircling the crown of his erection with my mouth. I imagined I was teasing his blood flow upwards to milk the precum out of the tip.
“For dessert, my greedy girl, you can ride a cock horse!”
Ryan chuckled at his own joke, but he was right, I was seriously eager for this. My pussy, despite two earlier orgasms, was thrumming for another. I felt greedy for his cock as I stood to position myself over his throbbing dick. I lowered slowly onto his lap. As his full length impaled me, I growled with satisfaction.
I set the pace, bobbing my hips so my buttocks bounced but didn’t touch him, but my master wanted to control my thrusts. With his hands on my hips, he guided me, varying the depth of his penetration into my heated channel. Some jousts rubbed my G-spot and others when he allowed me to grind my hips, brushed my straining clit.
Sensing my legs were shaking, and that I couldn’t continue long in this position, Ryan guided me towards the table. This time he hitched one of my knees onto its surface to spread me wider before sliding into my soaking hole.
“Like a bitch on heat!” he growled proudly in my ear, before fucking me to oblivion.
My breathing became ragged as he bumped and ground against me, doggy style. Reaching down between my slick thighs I could rub the burning nub of my clitoris. This, combined with his rhythmic thrusts made stars and blackness swirl across my vision.
“Please Master, please—may I come?” I groaned, rubbing circles to move my clitoris hood, letting my slippery fingers stroke the root of his cock as it ploughed into me.
“Wait for me girl—” he cautioned, so I tried to hold back the tide of sensations which were building to a crescendo.
“Come,” he urged me, “come now!”
I rubbed and pressed my clit with the pads of my fingers. He pumped into me, unloading his spurting climax while I throbbed and pulsed my own release around him. I felt so grateful as his weight sank onto my back. Ryan had given me so much pleasure but he was spent now. My throbs weakened but continued to bounce outwards, like ripples when a stone is dropped into water. Resting my head on the table, I felt sated and replete.

I’m a stockings gal. Garters, seams, French heel. I would normally not be seen dead in tights, let alone garishly coloured pantyhose, but when Leanne told me what she was planning that Saturday evening, well, I was more than a little intrigued.
Apparently, the new gal pal activity was to go out, buy the softest, sheerest, most brightly coloured tights, put them on and then go home and remove them. Sounds bonkers right? But it often led to lots of sexy fun, I’d been told, and I’d had my eye on Leanne for a very long time.
As I waited for the taxi to arrive, I couldn’t help a shiver going from my nape all the way down my spine as I imagined my nails scraping up the nylon. It was a love/hate thing with me. Knowing full well tights were the order of the day, I was sure to pull my best stockings on… handmade in Italy, exquisite items of pure silk that took care and respect to slide into. The double palm shuffle to straighten a wobbly seam and only using the flat pad of your fingertips and thumbs so ensure absolutely no snagging as you adjust the welt.
I take great care of my hands, spending a fortune on manicures to avoid any hangnail situations. I told you, I’m rather obsessed, so even now with the tantalising thought of maybe sharing a moment with my secret crush later, laddered tights are still sending me into spirals of conflicting thoughts.
At last the taxi arrives and takes me to Harvey Nicks where we are to meet for a cocktail before heading to the lingerie department.
Good god Leanne is stunning. She and her friend have chosen a window seat where they can cross their long legs and dangle their Louboutins seductively from pointed toes. So perfectly casual, but I know it is completely orchestrated to cause heads to turn. Oh and they are. I’ve already spotted several suited gents and at least two women glimpse back at the two as they pass. I stand for several moments longer, drinking in the scene of these assured, sexy women enjoying every moment of the sexual magnetism and power they exude.
Just as Leanne turns to scan the room, she catches my eye and waves. I check my poise and sashay over. Air kisses followed by warm embraces have me greeting the new woman, Alexis, like an old friend already. Leanne is good at making everyone feel like they are her best friend. The atmosphere is pulsing already with the promise of naughty times, I can tell that we all have a bit of the devil in us and the waiter arrives with three shots of tequila and a margarita for me to catch up.
“Why thank you, Pierre,” Leanne purrs slipping the tender a fiver for his trouble, “pop these on my tab.”
“No need,” He beams, “your bill has been taken care of Ms Lace.” He tucks the cash into his shirt pocket as he heads back to the bar.
“What?” I am about to ask who but think better of it. “Of course your drinks are paid for, Jesus Leanne, you’re some girl, really.”
She hands out the glasses and grins. “Bottoms up!” She winks and throws back the shot managing to make the action look insufferably sexy.
Alexis and I follow suit, me trying not to splutter on the fiery liquid.
By the time we’re flicking through the display of fishnets, thigh highs and knickers, we’re all a little tipsy—but it isn’t just the alcohol raising our spirits—we’re high on the prospect of new sensations…
“Here we are,” Leanne ushers us over to the tights. “Choose a colour, my treat!”
I was still running my eyes over the displays of garters.
“Come on Sylvia, you know the rules, honestly, you’re lucky I haven’t taken you to the ladies and spanked you already for wearing those gussetless items.”
Gussetless items? But then, a spanking in the bathroom! Well, my, my.
“Sounds like a punishment worth the crime…” I raise an eyebrow and let my gaze trail all the way up and down her body as I walk towards her.
She hands me a mauvey-purplish pair which I’m sure is a shade I’ve never even considered wearing and offers Alexis a mustard colour. Leanne takes the best of the bunch for herself—a maroon tone. Honestly, if you could have chosen three of the most vile colours on earth, you could not have thought these up. I try not to curl my lip and take the proffered packet as graciously as I can. What in the hell have I got myself into?
In the taxi on the way to the penthouse suite Leanne has booked, I insist we stop for more booze.
“Oh, stop being so silly Silvia. There’s a mini bar in the room!”
“I’ll need more than the contents of a bloody mini bar to get these things on.” There, I said it.
I regret it instantly when the other two women’s faces fall.
“Oh god, sorry darling, you just know what I’m like for hosiery!” I splutter.
“Yes, I know what you’re like,” Leanne makes eyes at Alexis, then laughs delightfully. “I told you she’d be like this didn’t I?”
The two fall into each other giggling and pull me toward them.
“Oh, you are silly. Honestly relax. You’re going to love this!”
The room is absolutely vast, and the lighting has specifically been pointed to flood down and illuminate a solitary sofa in the centre.
“Come, let’s get changed.”
I’m suddenly shy. I scurry into the bathroom as Leanne and Alexis go to the huge bedroom, squealing as they peel off their daywear.
On the loo, I fumble with my suspender belt, hands trembling as I fiddle with the poppers. I feel flustered and hot, my cheeks are flushed all the way down to my décolleté and I take a moment to splash cold water onto my face and wrists.
My clothes feel oppressive so I shimmy out of them as quickly as I can, now envious of Alexis getting to be so close to Leanne while I’m cooped up in this, albeit luxury, bathroom. I grab a fluffy robe, wrap myself up and scamper through to the bedroom.
The two of them are giggling and appraising each other’s naked from the waist up with the tights snugly pulled up their lower halves. Pussies bare beneath. My breath catches.
“There you are!” Leanne comes to me, arms outstretched. “You are far too dressed!” She says, dragging my robe from my shoulders and tutting at me.
“Not even in the hose!”
I hold out the unopened packet. “You know I hate these things!” I say, feigning horror. “You’ll have to put them on.”
“Gladly.” She pulls me to the bed, where Alexis bids me to lie in the luxurious linens.
“Legs up!”
I point my toes as the box is ripped open by Leanne’s teeth. I shudder, then relax when I remember it’s not my stockings in there but those hideous tights. I don’t really care if they get snagged.
She pulls out the cardboard inner, making my teeth shiver at the sound. Then she stares me straight in the eye and then feeds the nylon through her fingers and thumbs to open it up. I point my toes as prettily as I can and she licks her lips.
“Don’t worry my darling, you’ll love this.”
Nylon hooks over my pointed foot, and she stretches it down over my heel, ankle, then the calf. Alexis moves next to her, smoothing the sheer fabric over my now extremely sensitive flesh.
The hair at my nape feels damp as a flush breaks out over my shoulders. The sensation is visceral. I’m very turned on. I raise my hand to ease out my hair from underneath my upper back, allowing the cool sheets to relieve the heat emanating from my neck.
They are on the second leg, the gusset slowly heading toward my crotch, and I draw my thighs together to ease their journey.
The women are utterly engrossed, fingers, hands, palms soothing and perfecting. I lift my rump off the mattress so they can pull the stretchy mesh over my bum.
“Mmmm,” a moan escapes Alexis’s throat, and her eyes sparkle.
As Leanne guides my legs down so she can tend to the front, she takes a moment to press the heel of her hand to my mound. “Yes,” she purrs, “you’re really going to enjoy this…”
Finally, the tights are up over my hips and I’m snatched to standing. I glide my fingers into the waistband at my sides and pull the tights up taut against my pussy. A jolt of pleasure streaks through me and both women notice my nipples tighten.
“Ready?”
“Ready.”
They hold my hands and we walk together to the lit sofa in the main room. It’s like a film set and I briefly check for cameras just in case… Leanne would never! Surely… but in that moment, I feel like it might almost be a waste not to have it recorded in some way. Something to look back on and relive… I’m so hot and flustered, the constricted feeling in my gusset is frustrating and thrilling all at once. I can’t wait to get my hands on Leanne.
We are about to rush over to the sofa but I pause, grabbing each of my new lovers’ wrists and halt them.
“Wait…” I say, not sure if this is too much for a first encounter. “Can we start again?”
Alexis turns and catches my gaze. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I…” I’m not quite sure how to articulate it. “It just seems like it might be fun to put them on again before we destroy them for good.”
Alexis and Leanne give each other a look as if they’re not quite following.
“What I really mean is, it looks like a film set. Can’t we make a tights porno or something?” There. I really fucking said it.
“Silvia!” Leanne’s eyes widen, and just as a flash of shame threatens to wash over me, she squeals and hops over to a cupboard in a shadowy corner of the room. Pulling out what looks like a camera and tripod, she smiles and begins setting it up. “We didn’t ask as we assumed you’d say no…”
The two women look at each other conspiratorially, and Alexis squeezes my hand.
We’ve been fucking and filming for the past two days, but we thought this would just be for fun. Not that the other times haven’t been… it’s just…”
“Oh shut up Leanne, and get that camera set up!” Alexis orders.
“OK, tights, back off. I want the whole thing recorded,” my bossy side takes over but I can’t help it. These fucking wretched garments have cast a polyester spell on me. The sooner they’re ripped back off, the better.
With the red light flashing, we gather on the sofa—the atmosphere is static.
“Aaaand… action!” Leanne says, then drags the empty tights across her tits and throat. Oh, to see the pulse fluttering at her neck drives me absolutely wild, and I lean in for a wet kiss. Our first kiss… fuck…, and she tastes like a fucking wild thing. Desire, dark fruits and lust.
We line up together on the sofa, flirting into the lens, then begin dragging the sheer pantyhose on again—smoothing them up our stretched-out limbs. Leanne is in the middle and instigates, sliding our hands down each other’s waistbands.
Oh my god, this is what heaven feels like. Leanne runs her hand down between my spread thighs, and Alexis and my fingers meet at the apex of her crotch. Oh, she’s soaking wet in that nylon gusset, her pussy freed as we wriggle the restrictive elastane and jostle for position at the entrance to her cunt. And me, oh god, Leanne’s slender fingers creep and wind their way to my pussy, peeling the fabric from my already moist mound. I’m hot, so hot—and wild with feral desire, and these fucking tights are making me feel trussed up. It’s like Leanne has guessed this, and she commands we switch positions.
“She needs some air,” she says to Alexis, and they turn me to kneel facing the back of the sofa. Giggling, their fingers tear and grip at my nylon crotch, pulling and ripping, trying to free my cunt from the confines of my meshy bonds. It is proving a hard task, and my pussy is pulsing as their nails scratch and maul, trying to pierce their way in. Oh fuck it’s taking too long. I arch my ass out in desperation, open my knees wider, and finally, their talons breach my gusset, and the cool touch of their fingers pull at my hole.
Oh, these two, these two are so naughty. How can they know my body so well already?
I lie back into Alexis’ arms as Leanne goes down between my thighs, snaking her way to my dripping pussy. It can’t come soon enough—I’m so desperate for her touch. I feel like the echo of a bell ringing. Everything is so perfectly on the edge of something.
I spread myself wide. My needy gaping cunt is desperate for Leanne’ to finger fuck me. I want to be filled, I want to be stretched and pulled apart just like my tights. At last, her mouth is on me, lapping at my swollen clit, and two of her fingers invade me and begin to explore. Deeper, harder, she licks and fingers me as Alexis grabs and mauls my tits, her tongue venturing to that spot just behind my ear. And oh fuck.
“I’m coming. I’m coming, oh fuck, you bitches, I’m coming already.” My voice drags raggedly over my throat, lust making me hoarse, and my pussy starts convulsing around Leanne’s clever hands. My entire being clenches and folds in on itself, and I have a vision of unravelling as I come. My pussy is clutching, and every thread of my soul ladders like the nylon—on and on the threads pull until I roar out, and my climax rips from me just like the tights.
My fantasy has come true—my dream woman made me come and come fucking hard. I want her to have the same.
She perches on the sofa back, and Alexis and I waste no time teasing her through the tights. We pull them taut so the seam splits into her labia, grazing at her clit and Alexis pinches it hard between her thumb and forefinger. I’m jealous. I wish I’d thought of doing that. We start puncturing the hideous maroon hose, grappling and shredding the sheer fabric with our nails. It is almost savage and hints at how if we could, we’d eat each other so hungry we are to feast on each other’s flesh.
Her pussy is perfect. So wet, so ready. I try to finger her, but Alexis is there already, knuckles buried deep in her quivering cunt. I want a turn, but Leanne is bucking and writhing, and I don’t want to spoil her orgasm. Just when I think I’m going to have to content myself with rubbing Leanne’s tits, Alexis takes my fingers in her mouth and wraps her lips and tongue around my digits, getting them good and wet. Yes, this is perfect. Alexis guides my hand to Leanne’s entrance and pushes my two saliva-slick fingers inside. Wet warmth engulfs my fingers, and I venture a third, squeezing it in beside the others and start thumbing her clit at the same time. She bucks her hips to meet my thrusts and tips her face up for a ferocious kiss. It’s horny and hot and I crush my thighs together as an aftershock of orgasm wracks through me from fingering fucking her so hard and deep. Just as my wrist feels weak, Alexis takes over—Leanne is still coming, bucking, twisting and writhing, her juices spilling out and we all smile and share raw wet kisses.
At last, we can get poor Alexis out of her terrible mustard confines. I cradle her in my arms, and together, Leanne and I rip the tights from her, freeing her beautiful pussy to Leanne who suckles on her pretty little clit. I reach down, pulling the fraying laddered hose into the action, just enough to give that clit an extra tweak as Leanne licks and sucks. My god, these women are fucking gorgeous. I massage Alexis’ breasts and kiss her deeply as she comes undone in Leanne and my arms—it is just stunning.
As we all lie together, sated and coming down from our orgasmic highs, I can’t believe I’ve just taken part in my first threesome. The blinking red light of the camera catches my attention and a deep thrill bubbles in my chest. I absolutely cannot wait to watch our tights porno together later… and perhaps even have an action replay. I might have to turn this into a pantyhose sex story.
They have no idea, but earlier, I pretended to run to the ladies on the way out of Harvie’s, but I’d actually popped back into the lingerie section and bought three more pairs of the garish pantyhose… these women know I might complain, but as soon as they’d planted the seed in my mind, I knew this would be the kink for me.
Yes, it’s wasteful, destructive and crass, but it’s also horny and hot as fuck. And best of all? My beloved stockings are not harmed in any way.
The End

Ricky pulled his dark blonde hair into a low ponytail, then slipped the black chef’s apron over his head and fastened its ties at the back. The tapes hung down and tickled his naked butt, which made him smirk.
He studied his reflection in the long mirror in the bedroom he shared with Asha. From the front she would detect nothing amiss. He’d admit, top chefs wore shoes to cook, and probably a shirt, no matter how finely chiselled their pecs were. He turned and took in his side view, then the rear, where his muscled back and toned glutes were unimpaired by clothes.
“Business at the front, party in back,” Rick chuckled to himself. “Asha you’re a lucky girl, I have a treat – maybe several treats – in store for you!”
Padding to the kitchen in their modern apartment, he recalled the dreamy expression his partner’s face took on whenever she watched her favourite cookery show. That look had convinced him this surprise was one she would enjoy. He reflected on last Friday night, when they had gone for a meal to one of those places where the chef is working right in front of you, cooking and talking. Ricky had noticed her eyes sparkling throughout the experience, especially when he did tricks with the big, sharp knives. But it was in the taxi later that the full extent of Asha’s delight had been revealed… the return home was more fun than the night out itself.
In the taxi, once they were alone, Asha had snuggled against him and slipped her fingers between the buttons of his shirt to linger over his smooth abs before she began stroking the bulge in his jeans. With a groan, Ricky cupped her jaw in his hands and took control of her mouth. He plundered its depths with his tongue the way he intended to immerse other parts of his body in her heat, as soon as they got home.
“Wasn’t it exciting watching that guy prepare the food? The chef was so capable,” she breathed, in a way that made ‘capable’ sound like code for something more explicit.
“He knew his way around a kitchen alright,” Ricky agreed, struggling to squash a prickle of indignation.
“His hands were so… nimble,” her voice was hushed in awe, “I couldn’t help imagining them on me.”
“You want to be treated like a piece of meat?” he scoffed.
“Sometimes, yeah; I crave being handled firmly and put in my place.” The tip of Asha’s tongue poked out and wet her top lip, mischief flashing in her eyes. Rick sensed the crackle of challenge in the air and his body went on alert.
“I’m not wearing any panties,” Asha whispered in his ear, tickling the fine hairs against his neck.
Immediately Ricky’s semi stiffened further, but he took a deep breath and steadied himself.
He growled, low and menacing, so that only she could hear, “You’re a very bad girl.”
Asha responded with a throaty giggle and an exaggerated look of innocence.
“Perhaps you need to teach me a lesson.”
She continued teasing him, rubbing the outline of his prick which lay trapped behind the denim and sucking lasciviously on his middle finger. Everything in him coiled and sizzled, but he wouldn’t pounce yet, neither of them wanted to give the taxi driver a free show. Lord knows how, but Ricky managed to hold back until they got home. He almost threw the fare at the driver, happy to overpay, he was so eager to get Asha inside the house.
“Now then, wicked minx,” Ricky leered. He expressed his frustration by caging Asha against the interior wall, with strong arms braced on either side of her head. “Try using that pretty mouth for something other than talking.”
Heat flashed in her eyes at his command, he knew she was as turned on as him. She sank immediately to her knees, fumbling to loosen the buckle of his belt and lower the zip of his fly.
“I’ve been wanting to do this all night,” she crooned and cupped his balls reverentially.
Rick watched as she licked her lips and parted them in anticipation. His dick quickly unfurled from his trousers, springing eagerly towards her mouth for attention.
Asha had an oral technique that Rick really savoured. The heat of her mouth and the energetic way she salivated as she bobbed on his length, laving and swirling her tongue, had him swollen and hard as iron in seconds. She moaned as she sucked, treating his precum as a delicious treat, and the vibrations from her noises of appreciation drove him wild. When she sank her head so low that she consumed him, she also cupped his balls, drawing her fingers against his flesh with a silky touch as if assessing their quality. A spark of sensation sped from his plums to the crown of his dick, a jolt like electricity that continued to hum in his veins.
“I ought to put you over my knee and give you a spanking,” he told her, combing through her long hair for a sensuous moment, before he drew it up tight, forcing Asha to slow her fellatio. Her expression, when she looked up at him, was both feisty and imploring; she was loving this.
“No knickers in public: Tsk! Next time I demand to know before we leave the house. Your omission deprived me of some obscene imaginings.” While Rick’s expression darkened with lust, he loosened his grip on her hair. “However that mouth of yours may have redeemed you.”
When he pulled her up from her knees he used her hair to draw her closer, pressing her lips against his. The musk of his glans was on her tongue and he enjoyed that she tasted of him. She might have got hot for the chef back in the restaurant, but she was coming home with him and he owned every part of her.
“Pick your punishment, bad girl Asha, how should I fuck you?”
“Use me Rick,” she rasped, somewhat raw from throating his length so deep. “I love it when you take your pleasure however you want to.”
Quickly Rick shucked off his jeans in the hallway and pushed Asha towards the stairs. She knelt two steps up, bracing her hands in front of her. Her dark eyes watched over her shoulder as he advanced, with a look of intent. His God-given-talent was straining for action, as he walked it swayed towards her arse. Rick spat in his palm and used one hand lazily, to stroke up and down its length, before thumbing its leaking essence over the swollen tip. Asha flicked out her tongue, evidently wanton and hungry for another taste. But she groaned with delight when he pulled her tight skirt up around her waist.
The sight that greeted him made more precum leak in appreciation: Her pussy was as pretty as a peach and dripping with nectar. Without delay Rick pressed his face against her ass, parting those fleshy globes to allow his tongue to stroke the pink folds of her slit. She was hot and excited, and her tangy juices quickly coated his tongue. He loved that she was needy for his cock, and he was just as eager to show her some loving. He licked slow and deep, tasting her wetness like a gourmet. Rick enjoyed every nuance of the textures and flavours Asha shared with him. He took time to nudge and tickle her taint with his fingertip as he lapped at her labia. In response. she gasped enthusiastically and dipped her back for more.
When he nudged her legs wider so her pussy lips parted, he had to fight the urge to thrust. His display of passion should be tantalisingly drawn out, rather than rushed. Never mind that his prick had begun to strain like a divining rod toward his woman’s sweet spot. He planned to ride her hard, bury his shaft and empty his balls that ached to drill and fill her.
“Get ready girl,” he said.
Asha dropped a hand between her thighs, obediently spreading her flesh for his invasion.
With a practised thrust and jerk, Rick sank his length deep into Asha, which felt like dipping into molten lava. As he pressed forward he appreciated her tightness. A soft grunt of satisfaction escaped to chime with his partner’s eager moans of encouragement. He held her hips to probe deep inside, aiming for her g-spot, while urging Asha to rub her clit. Her body jolted when he angled his broad torso over her. Every firm drive made her tits swing and his balls slap her ass.
“Oh, please take me,” Asha groaned, strumming against her nub with slick fingers.
A curtain of her dark hair hung forward, obscuring her face, and Rick was tempted to sink his teeth into the soft curve between her shoulders and neck. Tonight he felt primal and alpha, they were rutting as nature intended and he wanted to claim his mate. He sensed his climax gathering, drawing up from his core, a blur of heat and energy, but he wanted to be sure she was ready.
“Yes, yes!” Asha exclaimed.
When she mashed her clit she began to come undone. She gasped and her pussy pulsed, clutching at his length, hastening Rick towards the brink as her muscles tightened around his cock, a drumbeat of pleasure.
Rick speared his mate with one final, g-spot-grazing lunge, before dragging his cock out, loving the way her pussy stretched and moved around it. With great satisfaction, jism pulsed in pearly ropes, splashing over Asha’s curvy backside to spatter down her thighs.
What a night it had been! Ricky mused fondly, pulling ingredients out of the fridge and larder. So today he planned to greet Asha as her own, personal, naked cooking chef, and impress her with his culinary prowess. He sharpened his professional knives. He rinsed and prepped the ingredients, slicing and dicing fresh vegetables, keeping one eye on the clock, to have things ready for when Asha got home.
He’d bought steak that morning, after his agent rang to confirm he’d got the modelling campaign he’d auditioned for, so Rick felt no guilt splashing out on a piece that had been matured. Once home, he’d taken the time to mix herbs and spices to create his own rub. As he massaged this into the thick cut of meat, his thoughts became erotically charged, imagining his hands caressing the springy yet tender globes of Asha’s backside.
The salad was tossed, the meat was ready to grill, when he heard the click of the front door and Asha’s high heels tapped the hard floor.
“I’m home,” she sang out.
“In the kitchen,” Rick answered.
Her expression was one of delight when she saw him in his apron, and she leaned forward to kiss him across the counter. Rick couldn’t contain his smirk, aware her gaze was feasting on his bare arms and wondering what else was on display. He offered her wine and fetched the bottle and two glasses. That’s when he surmised Asha’s realisation dawned, she clearly saw his impudently nude buttocks, when he turned away.
Rick kept a straight face and made no acknowledgement of his naked state. He listened to Asha talk about her work meeting, before he shared his good news about the job.
“It’s starting to happen,” he said with a grin.
“To your good fortune.”
She lifted her glass to his and leaned in to kiss him, crushing her lips against his, and he tasted the berry notes of the wine. Then she set her glass down and moved behind him.
“What have we here? I’ve never seen Gordon Ramsey cook without trousers.” She sighed and rubbed her breasts and pelvis lasciviously against Rick’s naked back and rump.
“Maybe not Gordon,” he pressed back against her, to grind his butt into her mons. Her pert nipples pebbled behind the silky fabric of her blue dress. “But isn’t Jamie Oliver famous for being the naked chef?”
“I think I heard that.” Asha’s voice purred close to his ear, sending shivers down Rick’s spine. “I think you’re wise to protect yourself with an apron.”
She reached around his waist and groped under the canvas where his cock was already at half-mast with anticipation.
“Are we having meat for dinner?” She teased, “I feel in the mood for something to really fill me up.”
He turned to face her and they kissed, mouths open to let tangling tongues speak for their passion. Rick’s apron couldn’t conceal his excitement, Asha groped his length eagerly, then encouraged him to remove it.
“You’re still dressed, it seems you have me at a disadvantage,” Rick stood there buck naked, but Asha sank to her knees taking his erection tenderly in both hands.
“Have you been waiting for me, you beautiful thing?” Asha’s full lips brushed against the smooth dome of his cock, nibbling along its length and sucking avidly around its tip.
Rick gasped and leaned back against the counter, allowing his partner full access. She alternately licked and complimented his size and length. She showed her appreciation by leisurely circling around the frenulum with her tongue. Her saliva was flowing and it was easy for his cock to slide deep into her sloppy mouth. Her eyes were watering as his size stretched her throat and he looked on in admiration as she accommodated almost every inch of his length. Her enthusiasm never wavered and his wand was soon streaked with saliva that dripped down her chin as she sucked and teased him. It nearly made his head explode when the back of her throat tightened around him. While Asha was sighing and humming, Rick couldn’t help but admire: Oooof girl, you’re getting it all in! While she devoured him like a popsicle treat.
Even in the midst of all the head-swirling sensations, Ricky experienced a curious delight to be in his naked state while she was still fully dressed in her kingfisher blue silk gown. His breathing quickened when she squeezed his balls, softly fondling and rolling them with her fingers while engulfing his tool down to its root and swallowing, so her throat muscles pressed against his tip. It was a delicious torment but he knew he would have to stop her, otherwise their fun would be over too soon. So he drew her up to standing, then turned and lifted her body, so that he’d raised her to sit on the counter surface. It seemed a good moment to reach under her dress to locate and remove her skimpy white panties.
Asha’s licking and sucking had Ricky humming with desire and he wanted to return the favour. He pressed Asha’s legs apart and her pussy opened like a flower. He lowered to his knees and fastened his lips to her clit, licking and dabbing with his tongue. Her labia were swollen with excitement and he enjoyed her smoothness as he licked upward from her hole in delicious long strokes. When he lavished her bean with sucks and nibbles, she shuddered; he’d made it stand proud and then Rick breathed on it and Asha cried out. Like the jewel at the apex of her slit, it was eager and grateful for his attention. Her juices ran freely, glossing her lips and coating his chin, with salty sweetness.
Asha rocked her hips against his face, she sighed in rapture with closed eyes, seemingly determined to enjoy the blissful sensations. Soon she was biting her lips and moaning, becoming so fidgety from Rick’s teasing that he needed to hold her foot against the counter edge.
“I’m cumming,” she warned, raising her hips and dropping her head back.
Rick didn’t stop or slow, continuing to delve into her snatch with two fingers, seeking out the ridges of her g-spot to massage with his long, lean digits. Asha panted and keened then suddenly she squirted, drenching his hand with cyprine fluid.
Rick gauged the time was right and rose to his feet and notched his prick into her pussy, claiming his prize one inch at a time, while using her spread legs for purchase. Once he had sunk into her depths, he was ready to rock against her, bouncing against her with deft, urgent lunges which made them both gasp with their intensity. The kitchen resounded with the slaps of her damp thighs against his torso, his balls against her arse.
Then Rick held Asha’s legs higher, a move that enabled him to bury his pole to the hilt and pound rhythmically, stroking her g-spot with each probe.
“I’ve got you where I want you,” his voice was low, husky with lust.
“Stop,” she panted, “I’m too hot in this dress.”
Rick laughed. “Let me unwrap you.” He removed the sash belt, lifting the dress over her head and flinging it aside. “You’re my present.”
Asha only wore a white lacy bra, and he eagerly tugged down the cups, revealing both nipples.
“I want to fuck you.” Rick knew some dirty talk would turn her on. He spun her to face the counter. “Now be a good girl and take my hard cock without complaint.”
“Give it to me,” Asha eagerly lowered her torso onto the surface, dipping her back to tilt her ass provocatively.
Rick reached forward, taking a breast in each hand to make one of her favourite moves. He slid his cock between the lips of her labia, rubbing back and forth, back and forth, coating his length with Asha’s creamy fluids. She sighed with each nudge of his cock against her humming clit. It was both stimulating and tempting. It was Rick’s teasing appetiser to make his lover eager to take his whole length. He’d have her pussy drooling for him to shaft her, to power deep, stretching her to accommodate his heft, but for now, he teased, keeping her hovering on the brink.
“Please …” Asha gasped.
Rick yanked open a kitchen drawer, then hoisted up her leg. She needed a foothold for him to gain better access to her sweet rump.
“All mine!” Rick growled, gripping her hips so his fingers dug into her flesh. He powered into her with an explosive energy, drowning in the heat and sweet tightness of her slit.
Although Asha’s pussy was well-oiled by her earlier orgasm, taking his thickness so suddenly made her bite her knuckle. To increase the angle Rick leaned back, with shoulders against the cupboards behind him, and she gasped at the sensation. He wanted to fuck into her with long slow strokes, to have her dizzy with waves of pleasure. Asha’s yelps and moans were spurring him on, he lost himself to the bliss of her tight walls pulsing around him, massaging and milking him till he thought his balls might burst.
Rick kept his head and pulled out in time. He dredged up copious, hot spurts of jism, which sprayed from his tip to coat Asha’s trembling thighs, but his hardness showed no sign of flagging. He was determined to coax one more climax from his lady and fed his dick between her soft petals to continue reaming her from behind.
After several tingling forays, Asha abruptly halted.
“I need to fuck you now,” she clambered off his cock to reposition herself.
“You want this for dinner?” Rick joked, then boosted himself onto the counter, his dick was still standing proud.
Asha climbed after him, mounting Rick’s pelvis so she sat astride him. Then, with a gleam in her eye, she sank down, encompassing his full length. He used his strong hands to take the weight of her torso, and they undulated together in a hypnotic rhythm of rise and fall, which soon found her bouncing eagerly in his lap.
Asha was poetry in motion. Her beautiful face contorted with delight. He drilled deep inside, fuelling her arousal with gasoline. Every kegel muscle squeezed his cock, betraying her imminent climax. He knew her well enough that he gauged it was within reach. Her torso rippled and she bit her lip, gazing into Rick’s eyes. The look of love and adoration she surely saw reflected was tipping her over the edge. With a tremor in her voice, Asha groaned that she needed to cum.
“Let go, babe,” Rick encouraged her, “give it to me.”
So she did, making every liquid throb her gift to him. She closed her eyes, allowing each twitch of her ecstatic pussy to press inwards, massaging him from tip to root. Her body’s responses concentrated in that moment. Rick took satisfaction from her shudders and aftershocks around the sensitive flesh of his glans.
With a replete grin, Asha soon recovered enough to lift herself off his lap. Rick’s erection still had not diminished and she encompassed it with her hand, stroking him gently.
“I don’t know how you do it, but I’m impressed.” Her heavy-lidded eyes seemed to prove her point. “You just fucked me every which way!”
With an earthy chuckle, Ricky reached for his wine glass to take a well-earned sip.
“I blame you,” he said. “Your body excites me, your personality teases me, so my dick always rises to the occasion!”
“You say the sweetest things, Rick.”
Asha leaned forward to kiss him, her bare nipples grazing his sculpted pectorals.
“My perfect model. Let’s raise a glass to your agent,” she toasted them both with a wink, then as an afterthought, “And the gym.”
He grinned then took another sip. “Let’s get this steak sizzling.”
“First put that apron back on, darling. I’d hate to see you get burned.” Asha leaned in to kiss her lover again.
The End

“Lola? Lolaa!”
Where was she? My shouts were muddled by the cacophony of the party, but they were certainly audible. I wandered through the back yard looking for her, from around the fire pit, where a crowd of friends and acquaintances and friends of friends were warming their hands to the grill, where someone’s boyfriend was wowing everyone with their barbecue skills. What a time for her to disappear! We needed ice, desperately, and she had said that her new friend, the guy from her new job, would bring a large cooler with several bags of the stuff. Now neither one of them could be found, and while I was certainly enjoying the warm tipsy glow that was spreading through the party, I found myself increasingly mystified, if not irritated, at my wife’s sudden unexplained absence.
“Have you seen Lola anywhere?” I asked another coworker of hers as I passed through into the kitchen, where a group gathered doing shots and, to my surprise, dancing the limbo with a kitchen broom.
“Not a sign of her. She was out on the front porch a while ago, I think. Talking with Sam.”
Sam. Her new best friend. He seemed to be everywhere she was these days, ever since she had started that job. He had been very welcoming, showing her the ropes. It was good to have a work friend, she had said. I had been grateful that someone had been so kind and helpful to her. It wasn’t easy starting at a hard driving agency like that. The truth was I hadn’t seen my wife that much lately. I had been busy with my own business, working start-up hours. But it did strike me that when I did see her, Sam always seemed to be there too. She was happy. That was obvious from the glow in her cheeks and her easy laughter. I was too, I suppose, happy for her and content that we both were able to enjoy our own pursuits. Then again, perhaps I was just too busy to think much about it. We enjoyed the time we were together. Best friends. Still lovers. All good.
“Lola?” I had passed through the living room and had poked my head out on the front porch. Not a sign of her, just like her coworker had said. I turned and began to slowly pad up the carpeted stairs, the chatter and clamour of the party receding gradually as I ascended to the second floor landing.I had just opened my mouth to call for her again when I heard a muffled footstep above me, on the third floor, as well as—just barely—other tell-tale sounds: a rustling, a whisper, a breathy gasp.
Lola? My query was silent now, echoing in my head. The din of the party receded further as I proceeded up the second flight of stairs. I was about halfway up when I saw them. A flash of movement in my peripheral vision caused me to turn to the right, and that’s when it all unfolded: a foot—her foot—then another, then calves, then her dress—the sundress with the tiny purple flowers, the one that hugged her curves so deliciously—and then all of her.
And Sam.
They were wrapped together like one person in the dim evening light of the spare bedroom. Kissing. Deeply. Making out, to be sure. She was against the wall, and Sam had his hand under her dress, between her legs. Her breaths and gasps were like little muffled explosions puncturing the silence of the room. He was kissing her neck and her breasts now, and in fading light I could just make out her panties resting around her left ankle.
I was frozen on the stairs, transfixed, silent, watching her, them, as if in a dream. Her face was pale, lips parted in a gasp of pleasure at Sam’s touch. I knew instantly that he had slid his fingers inside her. I knew how wet she was just from her expression, as if I was touching her myself, her silky softness moving and pulsing around me, her scent filling my head. Her eyes had a distant look that I knew well, and I could tell from the way she was breathing—short, quiet, whispery breaths—that she was about to cum.
Even now, I am shocked by what I experienced in that moment. I think I knew, even in my shock, that I was supposed to be angry, jealous, enraged even. But I remember instead a kind of quiet surprise that I felt none of those things. I was aware of only one reaction to the scene I had stumbled upon: intense, powerful, urgent arousal. I wanted her to cum with Sam more than I had wanted anything. I wanted her orgasm pulse against his fingertips. I wanted her to drench them. I wanted him to take her right there, with her dress pushed up around her hips, to hear her gasp when Sam entered her from behind, to hear her whispered pleas to him to fuck her, to cum inside her. My heart pounded in my chest. The pleasure and desire I saw in her face intoxicated me, transported me. I had quickly gotten very hard, my cock straining against my jeans.
A shouted greeting from the party below jolted me back to reality. I retreated several steps, still reeling and trying to make sense of what I had just witnessed, but aware of the presence of guests, the need for ice, the possibility of discovery. I turned quickly and slipped quietly back down the stairs. I moved through the rest of the party in a daze, playing the part of a host as if on autopilot. Someone else fetched some ice from the store down the street. Lola reappeared at some point. So did Sam, a little later. There was lots more drinking and laughing and hearty farewells as our guests began to depart and the crowd dwindled down, finally, to just the two of us. We cleaned up a bit, decided to save the rest for the morning, and found ourselves alone in the bedroom, tipsy and flushed from the busy night.
She still wore the sundress, the same one I had seen her in with him. I stared at her as she took out her earrings, the memory of seeing her with him causing me to be hyperaware of the curve of her hips, the fullness of her breasts, the softness of her skin. How many times had she cum with him? Images flashed through my head: her panties around her ankle, Sam’s hand under her dress, between her legs, her face as she felt his cock throb when he came inside her. I found myself reaching for her, kissing her with a hunger that surprised both of us. She responded to my kiss with a flirtatious, cheeky need of her own, as if she were challenging me to satisfy her.
I moved my hand under her dress, between her legs, and slowly slid my fingertips up the insides of her thighs, her heat and wetness drawing them higher like magnet. I let them just barely hover over the crotch of her panties which I knew were drenched without even touching them. When I did finally let my fingertips tease lightly over the wet spot, I heard her whispered moan. They were beyond soaked. Did he fuck her? Did he cum inside her? I don’t know if my cock has ever been harder than it was that night. Images kept flowing through my head: his hard cock inside her, his hands on her ass as he slowly moved from behind. Her wetness and heat bursting around his cock. His cum dripping into her panties after she had returned to the party, a naughty secret between her legs as she had laughed and made small talk with our guests. Did he fuck her?The thought was almost a refrain now. What was certain was the moist heat pulsing into the soft cotton between her legs.
I slid the sopping scrap of fabric down her thighs, turned her around, and whispered urgently at her to get on her knees on the bed. She did as she was bid. I pushed her sundress up around her hips and unzipped my jeans. When I slid my cock inside her she was more drenched than I had ever felt. The insides of her thighs were glazed with arousal. Hers? His? I immediately imagined him cumming inside her, filling her. Did he cum inside her?The thought made me hungrier, harder, almost crazed. I slid one hand up her back and grabbed a handful of her hair. She cried out again and again as I fucked her harder now, her wetness and the thought of his cum inside her, around my cock, making me swell inside her. She turned back to look me in the eyes and in that moment—just for a split second—I caught a glimpse of an expression on her face that signalled defiance, even triumph. Her pussy contracted around my cock, pushing me to the brink.
“I’m going to cum,” I said gruffly. The heat of my spunk burst deep inside her, and we pulsed into each other for a few moments, both struggling to catch our breath. When I slowly pulled out, it was a thrill to see how much of my cum was dripping out of her swollen slit. Mixed with his,I thought to myself. Mixed with his.
Still semi-hard, the thought rekindled my almost frenzied desire. I had to taste her. With both of us still breathing hard and her dress still pushed up around her hips as she lay on the bed with knees slightly bent, I put my face between her thighs and slowly licked up a drizzle of cum glazing her thigh. She moaned softly, encouraging me. I worked slowly and almost meticulously to lap up each drop that oozed from her pussy, glancing up to see an astonished, ecstatic look on her face. She moaned again when as my tongue gently lapped and suckled her lips and then her clit. I was rock hard again, her pussy like a swimming pool of wetness and cum and velvety pleasure inviting me to dive in.
“Fuck me,” she whispered urgently. “Fuck me again.”
She was so aroused now that her wetness dripped on my balls as I fucked her. We fucked with an almost savage need for each other. I was possessed, as if I was superhuman, like I could go on for hours now without cumming if I wished. The images kept flashing in my mind’s eye: her expression as she came against his hand, her mouth around his hard cock, his seed on her lips. She came again in a wave of fluid.
“Cum! I want you to cum inside me,” she cried out.
I slowed down, fucking her more deeply. She reached back and grabbed my hard dick and slid it out of her and then put the slick head against the small button of her asshole.
“Fuck my ass,” she gasped in an urgent whisper. “I want you to fuck me in the ass.”
I pushed the head of my cock slowly inside her. She cried out as soon as I entered, her ass tight and hot around me as I slid it in. Her cries got louder and higher pitched as I slowly penetrated deeper. I reached around her hips and put my hand against her wet slit and clit. She placed her own hand over mine, pushing my fingers against her, inside her, as she continued to moan and cry. My shaft had slid all the way inside her ass now, and I gently rocked back and forth, sliding just a millimetre with each thrust. Did he fuck her ass?I thought. Did he cum in her ass? For a second an image of his cum on her asshole after he had fucked her in the very same dress she wore now flashed into my head. I could feel every spasm and movement she made around my cock. Her cries grew louder and higher pitched, and she gripped my hand against her slit as she came again. I held on a second longer and then the hot burst of my cum exploded around my cock inside her ass.
***
Over glasses of wine on the back courtyard a few weeks later, as the sun slowly set, I told her. We had already split most of a bottle of wine. She happened to be wearing the same dress, the hem of it resting on her smooth thighs. I couldn’t help but think again about what was underneath it, and the thrill of what I had seen that night.
“You have that look,” she said, smiling. “You’re a million miles away. Tell me what you are dreaming about.” Her smile had a flirtatious curl.
And it all came tumbling out. I told her what I had seen—the kisses, his hand under the dress, the ecstasy in her face. I told her how when I had entered her that night, she had been wetter than I had ever felt her. I asked her, I had to know, if he had fucked her that night, the night of the party.
After the initial shock of hearing my admission that I’d seen her and Sam, she spilled her own deepest desires. She had fucked him, of course. The details were as juicy as I had hoped: how he had made her cum with his hand, and how her knees had nearly buckled. How he had pressed his wet fingers against her lips, between them, so that she could taste herself. How she had returned downstairs to the party feeling dazed and euphoric, a secret, naughty thrill spreading inside her as the night went on and she could feel his cum dribble into the crotch of her panties. But there was more. She admitted that she liked to be watched.
And clearly, I like to be the voyeur.
After we had made our confessions, she glanced around the courtyard, her gaze moving from the table to the covered day bed to the walls and corners around us. Sitting in the lengthening shadows, her eyes lit up. “You know,” she said with a mischievous lilt, “we could really have some fun with this newly discovered little kink of yours.” She looked me in the eyes.
“Like what?” It was clear she had something very specific in mind.
“I was just thinking how our sprawling home, with all its little nooks and crannies, we should probably have some kind of security cams set up. Something that covers the whole house, even this little courtyard. We wouldn’t want any hijinks on the property, now would we?” The mischief was in her eyes as well as her voice. “You really are going to need to keep an eye on me.” She smiled and took a sip from her glass. “Don’t you think?”
Which brings us to now, and how I find myself on a balcony overlooking a courtyard in Greece as my wife is fucking another man.
I watch as he brings a tall, cool glass of water and sits on the edge of the day bed. I can see her anticipation, her desire, in the quickness of her movements, the way she touches him and smiles. My cock stiffens as she kisses him, runs her hands over his body, over the crotch of his shorts. When her fingers wrap around his hard cock, squeezing gently, feeling his desire throb, I feel my own cock hot and pulsing.
We had found him surprisingly easily: lounging by the pool two days ago, Lola had struck up a conversation, bought him a drink. He had reciprocated and one thing had led to another. He was a bachelor on holiday, fit, easy-going with a sense of humour that endeared him to Lola immediately. Lola told me later she had been “nervous and dripping” for the entire conversation. I was watching from across the pool, of course, and I could already see how aroused and erect her nipples were through her bikini top. She told him about me: I wouldn’t be there, but I would be watching. After the date had been made, Lola and I had fucked furiously, her whispering in my ear how I was going to watch her take his cock into her mouth, how she was going to ride his hard cock, how he was going to cum deep inside her.
I watch now as she slowly pulls down his shorts, his sharp exhale as she runs her fingertips lightly over his tense shaft, his balls. I know she is going slowly, showing off for me. Every kiss and stroke wrought with restraint, as if she is carefully containing her desire, riding it, lingering until it is unbearable for her. When she slowly moves her head down his body to his cock and slides her tongue slowly up, it is all I can do not to cum. But I hold back. She’s not finished yet. She slides takes his dick slowly into her mouth, and I imagine it’s stiffness and heat in the soft wetness of her mouth.
I watch, knowing how badly she wants his cock inside her, how she is deliberately prolonging the show, teasing me with how much attention she is paying to the bulbous head of his cock. You wanted to watch me?
Watch this.
The End

“Daisy, tell Ryan what you told me earlier,” Max orders. “Tell him what you think of him.”
Heat wells through Daisy, suffusing with the buzz she carried through the night. Her ears still ring with the music of the wedding. Her husband, Max, and his best friend, Ryan, still wear their tuxedos, and she’s still in her dress.
“Honey…” she says quietly. The heat reaches her face, the blush warming her cheeks. She wasn’t quite used to this hotwife sex, it still made her slightly nervous.
“Go ahead. You know you want to.”
She glances at Ryan, who looks a mixture of embarrassed and excited. He licks his lips, glancing away before thinking better of it and looking back.
“I said that I think he’s handsome,” Daisy whispers.
Max shakes his head before she finishes. “Not quite.”
He’s doing it again. Pushing. He’s always pushing. If this is what he wants, this is what he’ll get. She tosses her dark, brown hair, flicking her bangs from her eyes, and looks at Max. He shifts, and his discomfort helps her deal with her own.
“I said that I think he’s hot.”
She sees his own cheeks flush and his breathing grow shallow. Max is hot. She’s always thought so, always crushed on him. But while she fantasized, she didn’t need anyone else. Max was more than enough for her.
When Max admitted that he wanted to see her with another man, she was confused. Was he bored with her? Did he want to see other women, too? Was this some kind of test? It was months before she could wrap her brain around it. Months more when she felt comfortable telling him about other guys she found attractive. That they were hot. That maybe, if she were single, she could see herself sleeping with one of them.
The first time she actually fucked another man in front of Max had been so organic, so natural. They’d been at her high school reunion and run into an old boyfriend. When he flirted with her, she was good. She demurred. Until she caught her husband’s eye, watching her across the room. That look set her on fire.
After that, it all just fell into place. The three kept the party alive. They stumbled back to the hotel, then to their room, then into bed. Being there with Max, feeling another man inside her, driving her wild, as her husband held her hand and watched, was the single most intense moment of her life.
They haven’t done it since. She wasn’t sure if they ever would…until tonight.
“Take off your dress,” Max says.
“Max…” She runs her fingers along the black silk that caresses her body. It’s modest, kissing her knees and hanging off her shoulders. A good dress for a wedding that hides very naughty things beneath.
“Take off your dress, Daisy. Ryan thinks you’re hot, too.”
She shivers, despite feeling overheated in this room.
Unlike the two guys, who sit with glasses of whiskey in front of them, Daisy’s not been drinking. She didn’t drink very much normally, and being their designated driver meant laying off entirely tonight. Unlike their last time, she’s going into this situation with a clear head.
Yet that order and the way these two gorgeous men are staring up at her feels like champagne bubbles through her veins. They sweep through her, effervescing right up through her head.
“Max, I… I have a surprise for you. I’m not sure…” She looks at Ryan, who looks terrified and excited and incredulous all at once.
“A surprise?” Max wags his finger at her. “Naughty, naughty. What do you say, Ryan? Want to see a surprise?”
He picks up his glass of whiskey, swirling the golden liquid, but doesn’t take a sip. The top button of his shirt is undone. Black suspenders loop over his broad shoulders. He meets Daisy’s eyes and smiles. “I love surprises.”
Her stomach squirms. Her nipples tighten, right along with her chest. She looks at her husband, raising a brow. You sure, she asks without asking.
Max is eating this up. He grins, nods, and leans back in his chair.
It’s that eagerness, the look of pure eroticism on her husband’s face, that guides her across the line. She always liked Ryan, but would never actually do this on her own. Tonight, she’s not on her own.
Turning her back to the two men, she pushes the straps of her dress from her shoulders. The silk skims her body, catching momentarily at on her hips and the criss-cross straps that make up her garterbelt. With a shimmy, the dress is free, a puddle of rich black silk around her heels.
Ryan gasps. Even Max makes an appreciative grunt. She’s not wearing panties, and from what they can see, she appears topless as well.
“Turn around,” Max says. He’s trying to be cool, but she can hear the desperation buried there. This is feeling just as out of control to him as it is to her. Good. That’s good. It helps her turn. It helps her meet the gaze of the two men before her.
*
Ryan cannot believe that this is happening. Never in his wildest imagination did he believe he’d see Daisy, his best friend’s beautiful wife, naked. Now, as she turns, it’s all he can do to keep cool, to stay calm. Even still, it feels like his eyes are about to pop out of his skull, and his cock strains against his dark trousers.
Daisy is incredible. Long and slender, her dark bangs falling just above her glittering eyes. Earlier, at the wedding, when they were watching her talk excitedly with the bride and Max asked him if he wanted to fuck her, Ryan thought it was a joke. The woman slowly turning to face them is most certainly not a joke.
“Very naughty,” Max says. “Very, very naughty.”
She’s not completely topless, Ryan realizes. Covering her nipples are black pasties with long, black tassels. The modesty is a funny contrast to the fact that she’s not wearing panties. Nothing hides her pussy, which is trimmed and shaved into a demure landing strip of dark hair. He can see her glisten in the low light of the hotel room.
“Tell me, Daisy, does this turn you on?”
She nods. She keeps her eyes focused on her husband, as though he’s all that’s keeping her afloat. Ryan’s always envied the connection these two have. He’s never seen love like theirs, even tonight at the wedding of another couple, it was Max and Daisy who stood out to him.
“Are you wet?”
Again, she nods.
In this moment, though, that connection takes on a new meaning. He sees it through a new lense.
“Come here,” Max says. She obeys, her heels clicking across the floor. She slinks down into his lap as he turns her to face him. Her lips part in a gasp. Ryan shifts at the borderline, rough treatment, but when Max pulls her in to kiss him, she resists.
“Uh, uh, uh,” she whispers, searching his eyes. “Aren’t we being rude to our guest?”
Max glances past her, at Ryan, who suddenly feels like he should go. Like he’s been caught. Daisy turns to look at him, too, and he sees the real game beneath her facade. The submissive in her is gone, and in her place, he sees a vixen hiding.
“You’re right,” Max says. “Where are my manners?”
Daisy kisses him softly on the cheek, picks up his drink, and takes a sip. “You have me, dear. I’ll smooth this all over.”
With that, Daisy slips out of Max’s lap and saunters over to Ryan. His heart beats in time with the click of her heels and the sway of her hips. Her pert breasts jiggle, just so, and he aches to see her nipples, to feel their stiffness in his mouth and hear the way she moans as he suckles.
“Do you find me sexy?” she asks, raising a brow.
Ryan blushes, looks away, then shyly back. “You’re very sexy.”
“Do I make you hard?” She glances back at her husband. The question is as much for him as it is for Ryan. She slides into his lap, her hand reaching down to cover the seat of his pants.
“Yes,” he says tightly.
“Mmm, I can tell. Very nice, Ryan.”
She turns, staring at him, her lids heavy and her lips parted just so. They’re painted red and glossy. Kissable. She leans in, turning her head as she does so. “You want to know what I really told my husband?”
His chest is so tight that he can barely breathe. “Yes.”
“I told my husband that I wanted to fuck you.” Ryan gasps. “Do you, Ryan? Do you want to fuck me?”
He groans as her lips descend. When they meet, they’re hot and soft and everything he’d ever imagined they would be. She pushes her tongue into her mouth, deepening the kiss, taking command of it. He loses himself there—in her smell, in her touch, in her taste. He wraps his arms around around her, automatically going to her breasts, where he traces the softness of her skin.
Daisy parts, pulling away just enough to share an intimate smile. We having fun? her eyes glitter.
“So, Ryan? What do you say? You want to fuck me?”
*
It’s all Max can do to stay cool. To sit there and watch Daisy kiss another man and not do anything. He wants to both pull her off and encourage her to go further. This is his wife. The woman he watched walk down the aisle in a gorgeous white dress. The woman he watched fuck her ex-boyfriend last year at a reunion.
He’d taken pictures of that crazy encounter, and not a week went by that he didn’t look, that he didn’t relive it, that he didn’t pine for a repeat.
When he caught Daisy checking out Ryan as he gave the Best Man speech, he saw an opportunity. When they later shared a dance together, and Max watched while talking to the groom, he knew she wanted it, too. When she caught him watching, she couldn’t stop smiling.
That’s the most exciting thing about this fantasy. It’s not just that he gets to watch his wife like the star of their own porn film, although it’s incredible to watch her be so bad. It’s not just the voyeurism, although Max certainly is a voyeur. And it’s not just that she’s as into this as he is. It’s that they’re doing this together, that they’re a team in this fantasy, and in the morning when Ryan leaves, they will have one another.
“So, Ryan? What do you say? You want to fuck me?” she whispers.
He looks to Max, and Max can see the question that restrains his pent-up desire—you okay with this? Max just grins, picks up his drink, and takes a sip. It’s Daisy who acts, taking Ryan’s hand and, with a sly look back at Max, guides it to her pussy.
They gasp together as his fingers brush along her landing strip and down across her sex. Her head falls back, baring her neck to Ryan, who breaks out of his trance. Despite the spell Daisy’s cast on him, the man’s no shrinking violet.
“Like old times, isn’t it?” Max says to his old friend.
Ryan dips in, kissing along the choker around Daisy’s neck. “The good old days,” Ryan agrees.
Daisy doesn’t know this story, but Max can tell that she’s listening. “You see, you’re not the first woman we’ve shared.”
Ryan slides two fingers inside of her. “You’re the sexiest, though,” he adds.
Max shifts in his chair, adjusting his erection as he watches his wife and friend play. “She was my girlfriend at the time.” Adjusting turns to gentle rubbing along his shaft. “We’d never done anything like that before. Any of us. But as I watched her get on her knees and suck on Ryan’s cock, I was hooked.”
Daisy picks up on his cue. They’ve been with one another so long that they share an unspoken language. She gives Ryan one last, lingering kiss, before slithering down between his legs.
“You still think about that time, Ryan?” Max asks.
The sound of his zipper thunders in their ears. Daisy fishes out his cock, seemingly thrilled with its size and girth.
“We fucked her right on the table,” Max continues, mostly for his wife’s benefit. “You taking her pussy as she sucked on my cock.” He rubs himself faster as Daisy begins her blowjob in earnest. Max enjoys the show, watching, listening to the wet slurps that fill the room. She pumps his shaft with her right hand as she sucks, and plays with herself with her other. He knows Daisy’s thinking about what comes next, thinking about taking her place between them on the table in front of them.
“You think we overwhelmed her?” he asks. “You think we’ll overwhelm Daisy?”
Her moan trembles up Ryan’s shaft. His face tightens as he rides the edge. She knows. She senses. She doesn’t let up, bobbing faster, going for the kill.
“What do you say, Daisy, my wife… Want to get up on this table and be overwhelmed?”
Her hands are a blur of motion—on Ryan’s cock, between her thighs. Her hair bounces wildly. Her moans escape around Ryan. He scoots to the edge of his seat, hands on the armrests, mouth frozen open.
“This is just an appetizer, yeah?” Max says to the two of them. “This is just a taste.”
“Oh… Daisy…” Ryan groans. With one forward thrust, he explodes in her mouth. She keeps him there, swallowing it all as she rubs her clit. As her own orgasm arrives. As the room catches fire.
At last, she sits back, coyly wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“I don’t know about you boys, but I’m thirsty.” She stands, stretches. All eyes are on her half-naked body. “I thought I saw some champagne in the other room, and I feel like celebrating. Anyone else?”
Ryan and Max grin. “Please.”
Ends