*The following story is true. The names have been omitted to protect the naughty.
Back during my first sojourn into the swinger lifestyle (as it turned out to be, since I left for several years before recently returning), I would regularly attend parties that welcomed single males like myself. Across the various places I visited, I saw, met, and played with attractive women (most of them white, because that's my preference), single, married, separated, and divorced. Perhaps even a widow, or two. On occasion, I was privileged to play with very attractive women, and this experience was most thrilling when it was a gracious husband sharing his very beautiful wife. It was a matter of temporarily obtaining the unattainable, of touching the untouchable. You get the idea.
Well, one night, at Club Taboo, in walked a couple who looked as if they had strolled straight out of Hollywood's dream factory. They were both tall, in great physical shape, very nicely dressed, with an air of elegance and a modest style about them. They looked to be in their mid-to-late thirties, and slightly out of place considering the obvious nature of this type of party. There was nothing sexually suggestive at all about her appearance, and he looked like a total gentleman. Basically, they looked like they made a wrong turn on their way to an informal dinner party, or to an upscale restaurant rendezvous down in Venice, or Malibu. I had never laid eyes on them before, and I got the impression that the party host hadn't either, because I knew the host pretty well, and he often confided in me when asked. The safe presumption was that they were a married couple, although I failed to take note of any wedding rings (something I usually do right away). The brunette husband was clean-cut, slim, very relaxed and quiet. He was the type to forego wearing socks with his dress shoes. The wife? The wife was a vision of pure loveliness, but of the wholesome variety, if that makes any sense. Yes! "Pure" was the apt description of her. There was nothing visually trashy about her at all, this statuesque blonde with steel-blue eyes and a calm, composed demeanor. She wore a loose blouse, off-white and untucked, over form-fitting blue-jeans, with comfortable flats. Her hair was pulled back into an easy ponytail. I was mindful not to stare, which could have made them uncomfortable, and could've made me look the fool. So, I went about my own business, wandering among the many open-but-still-vacant play rooms, and cordially greeting other guests. I've never been the sort to be assertive, eschewing the antics of the stereotypical single male in the lifestyle who earns that obnoxious stigma which stains the rest of us. I simply enjoyed a couple practice games of billiards on the upper floor, hoping for something good to develop, whether that be fun conversation, or sexual adventure. Yeah, I tend to be laid-back, never forsing things. That's just me. I'm cool with just getting out on a weekend, really, and if I don't find action at a swing party, it's still a good time.
Okay, once, near the end of one event, the wife of a couple who recognized me as a regular and as a nice guy, took pity on me. She thought I was frustrated by not having played with anyone all evening. Apparently, she had taken special notice of my fruitless circulating. I told her I was just fine, but, unconvinced, she sweetly insisted on giving me a quick-and-dirty blow-job before they left for the night. She was rather forward, but very amiable, and a little tipsy. I estimated this lady was several years my senior, maybe in her early fifties, wrinkles and smile lines etching a sun-baked face framed by short, curly blonde hair which gently showed traces of gray. She had a slim figure, and under her low-hanging blouse, her breasts looked to be of the artificially-augmented variety. She really wasn't my type looks-wise, to be honest, but in many cases, at these types of parties, timing is everything. As I momentarily hesitated, she simply got to her knees and began undoing my belt buckle. I glanced over at her husband standing nearby, and he gave a slight shrug as if to say, "Hey, why not?" My polite resignation turned into an amused, curious surrender. Yielding to this first-time experience from an aggressive married woman, I didn't resist as she expertly unzipped my pants, tugged down my underwear, and liberated my dick. She smiled up at me as she asked, "You wanna cum on my tits, or do you want me to swallow?" Recovering quickly from the bluntness of that query, I chose the second option, to which she made a yummy sound, smiled again, and scooped up my dangling penis with her mouth. Instant warmth and a foreign, very personal touch. My own enthusiasm rose to match hers, although I was less demonstrative or vocal. I did, however, lower my pants and underwear to the point my genitals were then completely exposed to her. I struggled to relax as I gazed down to watch this married woman bringing me pleasure for the first time, anonymously, straight out of the blue. It had been quite a while since I had felt this sensation, a woman heartily sucking on my penis with the determination to summon my ejaculation, and swallow it all down, like a cum vampire. Of course, I remembered what fellatio felt like, but this sudden, unsolicited reality update was a joyous refresher. My erection quickly grew to fullness, right in her mouth, her tongue deftly sliding all over the head and shaft of my organ, bathing me with her warm spit. It felt so good, I knew I would never last long. And that was a benefit, considering the party was shutting down, the host making his last rounds to clear all the play areas. He saw me standing there, getting head, and he winked as he passed by. My hands relaxed at my sides, I leaned my pelvis out to this cock-gobbling wife, letting her work on me mercilessly. In that kinky moment, I was totally under her power. My dick completely belonged to her, and she was immensely talented. She didn't use her hands to jerk me off at all. No, she restricted the action to her mouth. She would corkscrew her head as she bobbed back and forth on me. On the occasional strokes where she bobbed much more slowly and deliberately, she knew how to use her teeth to gently rake across the flesh of my engorged organ, creating even more friction. I loved how this served as a purposeful reminder that my dick was inside her mouth, not her pussy. As I watched her, I caught a split-second glimpse of it. Her eyes were shut, appearing to be rolled back under her eyelids, and her thin top lip was curled up into what resembled a snarl. That's how I caught the flashing visual confirmation of her upper row of teeth sliding over my dick as it remained captive within her mouth. A more primal touch. *******. ( Ever since then, I've made a mental note to encourage women to softly use their teeth on me when sucking on my dong. ) The sloshing and sucking sounds were very audible in the room. It was all so "public," not having been adjourned to a private playroom, and yet I wasn't the least bit shy or embarrassed to be seen. The impromptu nature of this sex act was shamelessly exhilarating, and I wished that every swinger party had more open play just like this. Indeed, anytime someone passed by, I was only further aroused by their observance, specifically when it was another woman catching sight of my exposed privates. The kinky perversity of it was highlighted by the fact that we were both fully clothed. Here I was, in the middle of someone's house, close to 2 in the morning, and some guy's wife was hungrily sucking dick in front of her husband, and anybody else who cared to watch. My dick. And this wasn't foreplay. We had agreed on that detail. This was a full-on sex act focused strictly on my orgasm alone. She asked nothing in return, except for my ejaculate, and she was intent on taking all of that from me. What a sweet surrender it turned out to be, too. Because permission had been secured beforehand, I didn't bother to warn her when I was about to cum, and I always cum heavily in proportion to my arousal. This one turned out to be a most grateful gusher. I just widened my stance a little, leaned forward a little more, and let it all go. From behind, it must have looked as if I was standing at a men's room urinal, or perhaps in a dark alley, relieving myself against a grimy wall, only, my body was jerking with wild seizures. The wife's immediate response was to tenderly cup my balls in her hand, her index finger stroking a space on my taint very close to my asshole. And, true to her word, she began swallowing each spurting load as it came, sucking even harder as the flow finally diminished to a few last squirts, and trickling oozes. She sucked every bit out of me, through all the hyper-sensitive tingles post-climax. In the aftermath, as I awkwardly pulled up my underwear, zipped up my pants and refastened my belt, swaying slightly on wobbly legs, she seemed as satisfied as I was, like I had fed her a favorite meal while she had done her good deed for the day. She made that yummy noise again. Frankly, as I overthought it, I relished the fact that she would be digesting whatever nourishment from my sperm all during her trip home, and as she peacefully slept beside her husband that night. What had been part of my body would be absorbed into hers, the other man's wife. And again, so wonderfully perverse. Needless to say, I expressed my sincere gratitude as I helped the lady to her feet. We all shared some smiles and kind farewells, and I drove home feeling so stress-free! Haha! But, back to the story!
Where was I? ... Oh! I later returned to the living room where the sexy co-host ( his common-law wife ) was mesmerizing folks with her expertise on the portable stripper pole. I had to avert my eyes to break her spell as I slowly meandered past, skirting the deejay station and its loud, thumping music. I was on my way to the open orgy area in back, the one leading to the rear bedroom and a couple closet playrooms, but there I was stopped short by a shocking surprise. Since I hadn't spotted the Super Couple out in the main party area, I presumed they were off in some secluded playroom with the door shut. Nope. There they were, in plain view, in the open orgy space, surrounded by a group of naked and partially-dressed single guys. The husband peacefully sat to one side, sitting off the edge of a wide mattress set on the carpeted floor, leaning his back against an angled wall as he intently observed his wife. His wife was lying on the mattress amid the group of horny guys. Whereas Super-Hubby was still fully clothed, Super-Wife was completely nude, naked as the day she was born-- except-- with-- added "equipment." The situation was that each single male was taking turns fucking this incredibly gorgeous white wife! Single males! So, they weren't one of those stingy couples who only play with other couples, or with single "unicorn" females! And that's why they chose to attend this swinger party! Latino males, blacks, a couple white guys... all of them were welcomed to play with this genuine dream woman, with no sign of screening or prejudice! Yeah, I blinked several times in disbelief, like I was a cartoon character. Thankfully, I didn't let my jaw drop to the floor. Okay, I needed a closer look at this!
Clearly, this was a couple deeply into the cuckold/hotwife, stag/vixen fetish. Slowly, I made my way across the area to lean against the opposite angled wall, watching closely. As each new single guy took the place of the previous, I noticed that Mrs. Super would almost furtively whisper something in the next man's ear. As that routine continued, a few guys responded with a negative shake of their heads before getting into it with her. She was definitely enjoying all the attention. Her husband just sat there on the perimeter, placid and silent, not even masturbating. Curious, I asked one of the satisfied single guys standing nearby what it was the lady had whispered to him. He said that she was asking the guys to remove their condoms before fucking her. She had wanted him to give her a cream-pie! Zoinks! Okay, now, even at these lifestyle parties, going bareback was a very selective and rare occurrence, particularly among perfect strangers. I understood and respected why some of these guys were refusing her request. At the same time, my erection suddenly grew twice as hard. Of course, there was no sure way to tell, but this couple looked especially clean and healthy to me. And I already knew of my own tested-clean condition. But the health status of all of her eager playmates that evening was also a factor to be considered. Did all of them wear condoms? How could this innocent-looking couple be so dirty, so extremely kinky? Without a doubt, it was my burning desire for this woman, this wanton wife, this golden opportunity, that pushed me to do what I did next.
Without haste, I calmly sidled over to where the husband was seated, his voyeur's perch. The area was noisy with chatter from some of the fellas ( I hate when single guys use gang-bang sex as an opportunity to loudly socialize, as if that was the proper time for male bonding. Macho bullshit. ). There was music dully thumping in from the living room, and the unmistakable sounds of sex emanated from right there on the mattress. I crouched down beside Super-Voyeur-Hubby, one respectful foot away, to watch the action from his vantage point. I politely waited several seconds before saying anything, and I knew that starting a full-on conversation wasn't the right approach. So, I tersely asked the man in a hushed voice: "Hi... Is it all right if I play with your wife, too?" He never turned to look at me. He just gave a slight, nonchalant nod of acceptance, and that was it. Good enough for me! I stood up and casually returned to my original position on the other side, and tried to undress as smoothly as I could. I struggled to contain my excitement, while secretly wishing for the current single guy to hurry up and finish. My fear was that the Super Wife might tire out before I got my chance, that she might take a break, or possibly even shut it all down. I didn't know how long they had been playing.
Still wearing just my boxer shorts, I found a spot on the mattress, front row. As the guy mercilessly pounded her, I tried to catch the woman's gaze to let her know I was there. No dice. I dared to caress her lower leg, and then her right hand, delighted when she closed her fingers around mine during her latest orgasm. With my free hand, I boldly reached over to fondle and squeeze her right breast. No objection. Hooray! I tenderly traced one finger around her erect nipple, and then I gently pinched that fleshy knob, playfully, several times. At this close proximity, I could better appraise the woman's striking features. She wasn't overly glamorous, since her make-up was commendably minimal. No, she was a more natural beauty, outdoorsy, a wholesome beauty... PURE, as I said before. She was more like a Cheryl Ladd than a Farrah Fawcett, more like an Ali Larter or a Gwyneth Paltrow than a Scarlett Johansson. Her nose was straight and small, with a gentle upward slope at the tip. Her eyebrows were delicately arched and shaped, and not drawn in. Her lips were shapely, but far from full, and bare of lipstick. When I glimpsed her teeth, they looked perfectly straight, absent any distinctive irregularities I could detect ( even though a minor snaggle-tooth on a pretty girl often adds to her prettiness, just as braces can ). The woman's magnificent tits were of ample size ( not large, but a pleasing handful ), and her nipples and areolae were pink, not brown. I liked that very much. The areolae themselves were larger than average, protruding outward so that each erect nipple resembled a baseball pitcher atop a pitcher's mound. I'd seen porn stars with breasts like that ( the illegally under-aged Traci Lords sprang to mind, though this was not as extreme ). Super Wife's figure was slender, but wondrously curvy, again, the ideal female. She was in shape, but not a gym rat. Sadly, things being as they were, I could not ascertain the shape of her ass, and I'm a total ass-man. Still, I assume it must have also been pure perfection. She had long, graceful fingers on very lady-like hands. Her fingernails and toenails were, of course, tastefully manicured (and pedicured). I saw no noticeable skin blemishes, birthmarks, cellulite, or scars in the dim lighting, no body piercings or tattoos, and only the slightest hint of stretch marks lining her soft-but-toned belly, indicating that she was likely a mom. Her honey-blonde hair was streaked with brown, and of medium-length, now arrayed then in a loose mass framing her head as she lay on her back. Her overall appearance was that of a retired supermodel-turned-housewife, or perhaps a most beloved young schoolteacher. She could be a next-door neighbor, but only in upscale Westlake Village, or Brentwood. Out in the everyday world, no one could have ever imagined that she would be found at a place like this, at a party of this kind, doing what she was doing at that exact moment. And all of this was what made her the single most desirable woman in attendance that night ( or any other night at any other time on any other world ).
At long last, the latest guy finished, climaxing loudly. When he pulled out, I saw that he was indeed wearing a condom. He quickly rose to his feet without a word, and strode away. Classy. Enjoy your conquest. Suddenly, I was very nervous, but as I awkwardly removed my underwear, I noticed that Super Wife now riveted her attention solely on me. It was as if an invisible bubble had descended to enclose us. I was the next man up. Let's go, champ. It was all so methodical, but I could conjure no complaints. Again, I knew enough not to strike up any conversation in some lame effort to break the ice. All this couple wanted was the immoral sex, for the wife to be used by a group of guys, and for her to use them. That was it. She scooched over to a closer angle, pivoting on her bottom before opening her legs to me in silent invitation. Wow! This woman was indeed super! She was tireless, thankfully, for my sake. That was one thing. But I then drank in the visual splendor of her anew. Her pubic hair was neatly trimmed ( not the all-too-common bare pussy ), which I appreciated. I like for a woman to have hair down there. On a classy woman such as this, it was the right primal touch. As expected, the visible areas of her vagina were reddened and slightly swollen from the relentless pounding. As she caught sight of my freely-exposed erection, Super Wife saw that I wore no condom as I mounted her in missionary. Of course, she had no clue that I already knew that bareback was what she wanted, and I had made up my mind to give it to her, willing to risk it. In my head, a nightmare flashed where this opportunity was snatched away somehow. A fire! A police raid! An earthquake! Lassie's arrived because little Timmy got trapped in a well-- again! No. Even as it seemed way too good to be true, it was true, and I happily moved in between those long, luscious legs splayed wide in welcome to me. I wandered into Wonderland. I cannot over-emphasize this. It was a purely magical moment, this chance to be sexually intimate with such a beautiful white woman. The splendor of the swinger lifestyle could not have been more keenly realized. She was the other man's wife, and if my deduction was correct, she was also a mom. That conclusion only accentuated this blissful kink. It was a cozy fit, but I penetrated her pussy easily, thrusting all the way in with my first entry. I would have preferred to indulge in extensive foreplay, taking my time with her. However, this was the wrong scenario for that kind of finesse. This was all about "cutting to the chase." All the same, it still felt so good, joining our bodies so completely in a most kinky and anonymous introduction. My penis was suddenly in unfamiliar territory of the best kind, and I settled into her. It was a place that rightfully and legally belonged to some other man, whom she dearly loved, and it was so wonderful to make myself at home there. Yeah, I had made it. An hour ago, I had stared in gawking wonder as this Super Couple first showed up to the party that night. Admittedly, lust entered my heart like never before as I beheld what I saw as the perfect white wife. An hour later, I was naked with her, my body between her spread thighs, my hard, condom-free dick stuffed all the way up inside her wifely pussy, stuffed in to my black balls. In a different dynamic, I might have looked back over my shoulder to compliment the husband, and thank him for the use of his very attractive wife. I relaxed my weight down on her, her ample breasts pressed against my chest, her arms encircling my back and shoulders. I paused to gaze into her steel-blue eyes, struggling hard not to look dreamy-eyed. Sadly, there would be no kissing, but she tugged me closer so that she could whisper in my ear. The message, though, was different than what I was told by the other man, for obvious reasons. My engorged penis was already inside her, bareback. Instead, her question was, "Are you okay with cumming inside my pussy?" Those eight whispered words were like a siren song casting a spell on me. My excitement peaked, but I played it suave: "You don't want me to pull out?" She answered, "No. Is that okay?" I mentally patted myself on the back for not inquiring about birth control. Still suave, I just said, "Sure, if that's what you want." ( Yes, this type of sex is also called "Breeding." It's all just kinky pretending, for most who are into the fetish. Some form of contraception is usually in effect. But in the event of an accident, in spite of all the responsible concerns, I admit that the possibility of impregnating a happily-married woman only excites me more, whether by accident, or by specific arrangement. *splashes cold water in face* )
It did feel slick inside her, so my guess was that not all the other guys had refused her risk-filled request. My other guess was that this couple collected cream-pies, most likely for later use at home. I think that their special kink was for the wife to get gang-fucked at gatherings like this, and keep as much cum as she could. It was clearly a turn-on for both of them. Once they got home, I suppose they savored reconnecting sexually, the husband aroused by having just witnessed his wife being such a slut ( I hate that term. ), reclaiming her with his own vigorous thrusting and copiously spurting deposits. Or it could have been that, like a true cuckold, the husband relished the taste of her messy collection of cream-pies. I have no solid idea, and since I never saw them again, I can never know. The only memories I may yet treasure are of my time together with one of the most beautiful women I had ever met. Well, in truth, I never even got her name, not at any time. But our bodies definitely bumped into each other's. As I began slow-fucking her, I deliberately kept my legs as wide apart as possible. Now that she had maneuvered to an angle which gave her husband full view of our merged genitals, I delighted in the fact that he could clearly see what I could only feel, that my black dong was all the way up inside his wife's tightly-gripping pussy. He would see no condom at all as I slid out, and thrust back in again, over and over, and over. He could watch us fornicating, another total stranger having his woman, giving her pleasure, as well as taking pleasure from her. His wife being shared, borrowed by several strangers of different races and sizes. I needed to know he was watching MY chocolate dick plunging full-length into his bride's tight pussy, as she was no longer forsaking all others. I needed him to know that I was going to thoroughly and gleefully empty my balls, eagerly pumping my semen straight into the place where they had conceived their offspring, just as the three of us wanted.
I felt Mrs. Super's legs wrapping around my lower back while I gyrated and ground my pelvis into hers. Her eyes were rolled back beneath her fluttering eyelids as she gave herself completely over to the sinful pleasure. With no kissing involved, the focus of sensation concentrated on the touch of my body between her legs, our genitals joined together, her vagina yielding to my foreign, invading penis in unconditional surrender. Encompassing this focal point was our body heat, our heavy breathing, the soft scent of her very tasteful perfume, her moans, the energetic undulations of my torso as I humped her, and in the distance, again, the low thumping beat of the dance music in the outer room. The entire tableau was so exhilarating in its moral depravity. I mentally imbued every inward thrust with the power of my admiration for this unobtainable white wife, as well as my acute envy of her husband. She was the full, living embodiment of that for which I had always dreamed, yet could never have. Here she was, right in front of me, with me, giving herself to me in this one golden experience. This was fantasy fulfillment in ultimate form, and I was on the threshold of the highest euphoria. Using my muscles, I wiggled my dick within her warm pussy to further emphasize my presence, the naked flesh of my shaft pulsing and rubbing against the tubular walls of her lawfully-wedded vagina. Fuckkkk! Super-sexy wife. You like this stranger dick? Were you all wet earlier tonight in anticipation, determined to go out to hunt some strange, some outsider cock to fill your mom-pussy? I wish I could have been down here when you were taking off your soaked panties for all these horny guys. I wish I could have seen you strip naked, shedding your blouse, discarding your expensive bra, peeling down those tight designer jeans, freeing your golden hair from its ponytail and giving your head a teasing toss. Did all their jaws drop to behold you, understanding your plan? Well, I'm with you now, right between your open legs. You like this stiff black dong, alive and throbbing inside your hungry married pussy for the first time, don't you, lovely one? You seriously want me to give you my seed, to flush my balls of their milky contents straight into you, right in front of your husband? You asked me for it, begging for a bareback fuck, and for all of my cum to erupt like lava, exploding deep inside you. Well, you can have it. I'm gonna give all of it to you. I can't resist giving you what you want. You want my semen? It's all yours. I only wish this could have been your honeymoon.
And then, my thrusts became increasingly rhythmic, and increasingly savage. I took this sexy white woman to the jungle, slamming her through another moaning, writhing orgasm, her warm breath escaping near my ear. The sounds of clapping flesh loudly competed with the dull thump of dance music. I fucked his wife like I meant it more than anything else in my life. When the tingles of my own climax arrived, I ordered my brain to record this as vividly as everything else I enjoyed with her. When I let it all go, I was as vocal and feral as the other guy, except he wore a condom. I hoped Super Hubby was impressed. My series of loud grunts, accompanied by the powerful spasms rocking my frame, provided the undeniable sign that I was shamelessly pumping all of my thick, syrupy cum directly into his mate's vaginal depths, never once pulling out. I had legitimately consummated my immoral fuck with her, just as she had requested, and just as he also clearly wanted. It was sheer and utter euphoria, perhaps reminiscent of the decadent orgies of Ancient Greece, and Ancient Rome. It's often the case that the more perversely kinky the sex, the greater the ejaculation. That's exactly what happened there. I gave Super Wife all of that week's stored-up cum, and last week's, and the week before that ( Yeah, it had been that long for me. I won't lie. ). I remember that she smiled at me, as if in gratitude. It even felt great as my spent cock gently spilled out of her sticky vagina, glistening in the shadow of our naked bodies. I imagine it made a soft kissing sound, the last strand of sticky moisture still connecting our genitals stretching until it snapped. I don't know or care what this amazing couple did when they returned home. I only know that I contributed happily and heavily to what it was they were looking for that night.
And all I have is the true story, which I alone have come here-- to tell thee (Thank you, Herman Melville! Haha!).
Back during my first sojourn into the swinger lifestyle (as it turned out to be, since I left for several years before recently returning), I would regularly attend parties that welcomed single males like myself. Across the various places I visited, I saw, met, and played with attractive women (most of them white, because that's my preference), single, married, separated, and divorced. Perhaps even a widow, or two. On occasion, I was privileged to play with very attractive women, and this experience was most thrilling when it was a gracious husband sharing his very beautiful wife. It was a matter of temporarily obtaining the unattainable, of touching the untouchable. You get the idea.
Well, one night, at Club Taboo, in walked a couple who looked as if they had strolled straight out of Hollywood's dream factory. They were both tall, in great physical shape, very nicely dressed, with an air of elegance and a modest style about them. They looked to be in their mid-to-late thirties, and slightly out of place considering the obvious nature of this type of party. There was nothing sexually suggestive at all about her appearance, and he looked like a total gentleman. Basically, they looked like they made a wrong turn on their way to an informal dinner party, or to an upscale restaurant rendezvous down in Venice, or Malibu. I had never laid eyes on them before, and I got the impression that the party host hadn't either, because I knew the host pretty well, and he often confided in me when asked. The safe presumption was that they were a married couple, although I failed to take note of any wedding rings (something I usually do right away). The brunette husband was clean-cut, slim, very relaxed and quiet. He was the type to forego wearing socks with his dress shoes. The wife? The wife was a vision of pure loveliness, but of the wholesome variety, if that makes any sense. Yes! "Pure" was the apt description of her. There was nothing visually trashy about her at all, this statuesque blonde with steel-blue eyes and a calm, composed demeanor. She wore a loose blouse, off-white and untucked, over form-fitting blue-jeans, with comfortable flats. Her hair was pulled back into an easy ponytail. I was mindful not to stare, which could have made them uncomfortable, and could've made me look the fool. So, I went about my own business, wandering among the many open-but-still-vacant play rooms, and cordially greeting other guests. I've never been the sort to be assertive, eschewing the antics of the stereotypical single male in the lifestyle who earns that obnoxious stigma which stains the rest of us. I simply enjoyed a couple practice games of billiards on the upper floor, hoping for something good to develop, whether that be fun conversation, or sexual adventure. Yeah, I tend to be laid-back, never forsing things. That's just me. I'm cool with just getting out on a weekend, really, and if I don't find action at a swing party, it's still a good time.
Okay, once, near the end of one event, the wife of a couple who recognized me as a regular and as a nice guy, took pity on me. She thought I was frustrated by not having played with anyone all evening. Apparently, she had taken special notice of my fruitless circulating. I told her I was just fine, but, unconvinced, she sweetly insisted on giving me a quick-and-dirty blow-job before they left for the night. She was rather forward, but very amiable, and a little tipsy. I estimated this lady was several years my senior, maybe in her early fifties, wrinkles and smile lines etching a sun-baked face framed by short, curly blonde hair which gently showed traces of gray. She had a slim figure, and under her low-hanging blouse, her breasts looked to be of the artificially-augmented variety. She really wasn't my type looks-wise, to be honest, but in many cases, at these types of parties, timing is everything. As I momentarily hesitated, she simply got to her knees and began undoing my belt buckle. I glanced over at her husband standing nearby, and he gave a slight shrug as if to say, "Hey, why not?" My polite resignation turned into an amused, curious surrender. Yielding to this first-time experience from an aggressive married woman, I didn't resist as she expertly unzipped my pants, tugged down my underwear, and liberated my dick. She smiled up at me as she asked, "You wanna cum on my tits, or do you want me to swallow?" Recovering quickly from the bluntness of that query, I chose the second option, to which she made a yummy sound, smiled again, and scooped up my dangling penis with her mouth. Instant warmth and a foreign, very personal touch. My own enthusiasm rose to match hers, although I was less demonstrative or vocal. I did, however, lower my pants and underwear to the point my genitals were then completely exposed to her. I struggled to relax as I gazed down to watch this married woman bringing me pleasure for the first time, anonymously, straight out of the blue. It had been quite a while since I had felt this sensation, a woman heartily sucking on my penis with the determination to summon my ejaculation, and swallow it all down, like a cum vampire. Of course, I remembered what fellatio felt like, but this sudden, unsolicited reality update was a joyous refresher. My erection quickly grew to fullness, right in her mouth, her tongue deftly sliding all over the head and shaft of my organ, bathing me with her warm spit. It felt so good, I knew I would never last long. And that was a benefit, considering the party was shutting down, the host making his last rounds to clear all the play areas. He saw me standing there, getting head, and he winked as he passed by. My hands relaxed at my sides, I leaned my pelvis out to this cock-gobbling wife, letting her work on me mercilessly. In that kinky moment, I was totally under her power. My dick completely belonged to her, and she was immensely talented. She didn't use her hands to jerk me off at all. No, she restricted the action to her mouth. She would corkscrew her head as she bobbed back and forth on me. On the occasional strokes where she bobbed much more slowly and deliberately, she knew how to use her teeth to gently rake across the flesh of my engorged organ, creating even more friction. I loved how this served as a purposeful reminder that my dick was inside her mouth, not her pussy. As I watched her, I caught a split-second glimpse of it. Her eyes were shut, appearing to be rolled back under her eyelids, and her thin top lip was curled up into what resembled a snarl. That's how I caught the flashing visual confirmation of her upper row of teeth sliding over my dick as it remained captive within her mouth. A more primal touch. *******. ( Ever since then, I've made a mental note to encourage women to softly use their teeth on me when sucking on my dong. ) The sloshing and sucking sounds were very audible in the room. It was all so "public," not having been adjourned to a private playroom, and yet I wasn't the least bit shy or embarrassed to be seen. The impromptu nature of this sex act was shamelessly exhilarating, and I wished that every swinger party had more open play just like this. Indeed, anytime someone passed by, I was only further aroused by their observance, specifically when it was another woman catching sight of my exposed privates. The kinky perversity of it was highlighted by the fact that we were both fully clothed. Here I was, in the middle of someone's house, close to 2 in the morning, and some guy's wife was hungrily sucking dick in front of her husband, and anybody else who cared to watch. My dick. And this wasn't foreplay. We had agreed on that detail. This was a full-on sex act focused strictly on my orgasm alone. She asked nothing in return, except for my ejaculate, and she was intent on taking all of that from me. What a sweet surrender it turned out to be, too. Because permission had been secured beforehand, I didn't bother to warn her when I was about to cum, and I always cum heavily in proportion to my arousal. This one turned out to be a most grateful gusher. I just widened my stance a little, leaned forward a little more, and let it all go. From behind, it must have looked as if I was standing at a men's room urinal, or perhaps in a dark alley, relieving myself against a grimy wall, only, my body was jerking with wild seizures. The wife's immediate response was to tenderly cup my balls in her hand, her index finger stroking a space on my taint very close to my asshole. And, true to her word, she began swallowing each spurting load as it came, sucking even harder as the flow finally diminished to a few last squirts, and trickling oozes. She sucked every bit out of me, through all the hyper-sensitive tingles post-climax. In the aftermath, as I awkwardly pulled up my underwear, zipped up my pants and refastened my belt, swaying slightly on wobbly legs, she seemed as satisfied as I was, like I had fed her a favorite meal while she had done her good deed for the day. She made that yummy noise again. Frankly, as I overthought it, I relished the fact that she would be digesting whatever nourishment from my sperm all during her trip home, and as she peacefully slept beside her husband that night. What had been part of my body would be absorbed into hers, the other man's wife. And again, so wonderfully perverse. Needless to say, I expressed my sincere gratitude as I helped the lady to her feet. We all shared some smiles and kind farewells, and I drove home feeling so stress-free! Haha! But, back to the story!
Where was I? ... Oh! I later returned to the living room where the sexy co-host ( his common-law wife ) was mesmerizing folks with her expertise on the portable stripper pole. I had to avert my eyes to break her spell as I slowly meandered past, skirting the deejay station and its loud, thumping music. I was on my way to the open orgy area in back, the one leading to the rear bedroom and a couple closet playrooms, but there I was stopped short by a shocking surprise. Since I hadn't spotted the Super Couple out in the main party area, I presumed they were off in some secluded playroom with the door shut. Nope. There they were, in plain view, in the open orgy space, surrounded by a group of naked and partially-dressed single guys. The husband peacefully sat to one side, sitting off the edge of a wide mattress set on the carpeted floor, leaning his back against an angled wall as he intently observed his wife. His wife was lying on the mattress amid the group of horny guys. Whereas Super-Hubby was still fully clothed, Super-Wife was completely nude, naked as the day she was born-- except-- with-- added "equipment." The situation was that each single male was taking turns fucking this incredibly gorgeous white wife! Single males! So, they weren't one of those stingy couples who only play with other couples, or with single "unicorn" females! And that's why they chose to attend this swinger party! Latino males, blacks, a couple white guys... all of them were welcomed to play with this genuine dream woman, with no sign of screening or prejudice! Yeah, I blinked several times in disbelief, like I was a cartoon character. Thankfully, I didn't let my jaw drop to the floor. Okay, I needed a closer look at this!
Clearly, this was a couple deeply into the cuckold/hotwife, stag/vixen fetish. Slowly, I made my way across the area to lean against the opposite angled wall, watching closely. As each new single guy took the place of the previous, I noticed that Mrs. Super would almost furtively whisper something in the next man's ear. As that routine continued, a few guys responded with a negative shake of their heads before getting into it with her. She was definitely enjoying all the attention. Her husband just sat there on the perimeter, placid and silent, not even masturbating. Curious, I asked one of the satisfied single guys standing nearby what it was the lady had whispered to him. He said that she was asking the guys to remove their condoms before fucking her. She had wanted him to give her a cream-pie! Zoinks! Okay, now, even at these lifestyle parties, going bareback was a very selective and rare occurrence, particularly among perfect strangers. I understood and respected why some of these guys were refusing her request. At the same time, my erection suddenly grew twice as hard. Of course, there was no sure way to tell, but this couple looked especially clean and healthy to me. And I already knew of my own tested-clean condition. But the health status of all of her eager playmates that evening was also a factor to be considered. Did all of them wear condoms? How could this innocent-looking couple be so dirty, so extremely kinky? Without a doubt, it was my burning desire for this woman, this wanton wife, this golden opportunity, that pushed me to do what I did next.
Without haste, I calmly sidled over to where the husband was seated, his voyeur's perch. The area was noisy with chatter from some of the fellas ( I hate when single guys use gang-bang sex as an opportunity to loudly socialize, as if that was the proper time for male bonding. Macho bullshit. ). There was music dully thumping in from the living room, and the unmistakable sounds of sex emanated from right there on the mattress. I crouched down beside Super-Voyeur-Hubby, one respectful foot away, to watch the action from his vantage point. I politely waited several seconds before saying anything, and I knew that starting a full-on conversation wasn't the right approach. So, I tersely asked the man in a hushed voice: "Hi... Is it all right if I play with your wife, too?" He never turned to look at me. He just gave a slight, nonchalant nod of acceptance, and that was it. Good enough for me! I stood up and casually returned to my original position on the other side, and tried to undress as smoothly as I could. I struggled to contain my excitement, while secretly wishing for the current single guy to hurry up and finish. My fear was that the Super Wife might tire out before I got my chance, that she might take a break, or possibly even shut it all down. I didn't know how long they had been playing.
Still wearing just my boxer shorts, I found a spot on the mattress, front row. As the guy mercilessly pounded her, I tried to catch the woman's gaze to let her know I was there. No dice. I dared to caress her lower leg, and then her right hand, delighted when she closed her fingers around mine during her latest orgasm. With my free hand, I boldly reached over to fondle and squeeze her right breast. No objection. Hooray! I tenderly traced one finger around her erect nipple, and then I gently pinched that fleshy knob, playfully, several times. At this close proximity, I could better appraise the woman's striking features. She wasn't overly glamorous, since her make-up was commendably minimal. No, she was a more natural beauty, outdoorsy, a wholesome beauty... PURE, as I said before. She was more like a Cheryl Ladd than a Farrah Fawcett, more like an Ali Larter or a Gwyneth Paltrow than a Scarlett Johansson. Her nose was straight and small, with a gentle upward slope at the tip. Her eyebrows were delicately arched and shaped, and not drawn in. Her lips were shapely, but far from full, and bare of lipstick. When I glimpsed her teeth, they looked perfectly straight, absent any distinctive irregularities I could detect ( even though a minor snaggle-tooth on a pretty girl often adds to her prettiness, just as braces can ). The woman's magnificent tits were of ample size ( not large, but a pleasing handful ), and her nipples and areolae were pink, not brown. I liked that very much. The areolae themselves were larger than average, protruding outward so that each erect nipple resembled a baseball pitcher atop a pitcher's mound. I'd seen porn stars with breasts like that ( the illegally under-aged Traci Lords sprang to mind, though this was not as extreme ). Super Wife's figure was slender, but wondrously curvy, again, the ideal female. She was in shape, but not a gym rat. Sadly, things being as they were, I could not ascertain the shape of her ass, and I'm a total ass-man. Still, I assume it must have also been pure perfection. She had long, graceful fingers on very lady-like hands. Her fingernails and toenails were, of course, tastefully manicured (and pedicured). I saw no noticeable skin blemishes, birthmarks, cellulite, or scars in the dim lighting, no body piercings or tattoos, and only the slightest hint of stretch marks lining her soft-but-toned belly, indicating that she was likely a mom. Her honey-blonde hair was streaked with brown, and of medium-length, now arrayed then in a loose mass framing her head as she lay on her back. Her overall appearance was that of a retired supermodel-turned-housewife, or perhaps a most beloved young schoolteacher. She could be a next-door neighbor, but only in upscale Westlake Village, or Brentwood. Out in the everyday world, no one could have ever imagined that she would be found at a place like this, at a party of this kind, doing what she was doing at that exact moment. And all of this was what made her the single most desirable woman in attendance that night ( or any other night at any other time on any other world ).
At long last, the latest guy finished, climaxing loudly. When he pulled out, I saw that he was indeed wearing a condom. He quickly rose to his feet without a word, and strode away. Classy. Enjoy your conquest. Suddenly, I was very nervous, but as I awkwardly removed my underwear, I noticed that Super Wife now riveted her attention solely on me. It was as if an invisible bubble had descended to enclose us. I was the next man up. Let's go, champ. It was all so methodical, but I could conjure no complaints. Again, I knew enough not to strike up any conversation in some lame effort to break the ice. All this couple wanted was the immoral sex, for the wife to be used by a group of guys, and for her to use them. That was it. She scooched over to a closer angle, pivoting on her bottom before opening her legs to me in silent invitation. Wow! This woman was indeed super! She was tireless, thankfully, for my sake. That was one thing. But I then drank in the visual splendor of her anew. Her pubic hair was neatly trimmed ( not the all-too-common bare pussy ), which I appreciated. I like for a woman to have hair down there. On a classy woman such as this, it was the right primal touch. As expected, the visible areas of her vagina were reddened and slightly swollen from the relentless pounding. As she caught sight of my freely-exposed erection, Super Wife saw that I wore no condom as I mounted her in missionary. Of course, she had no clue that I already knew that bareback was what she wanted, and I had made up my mind to give it to her, willing to risk it. In my head, a nightmare flashed where this opportunity was snatched away somehow. A fire! A police raid! An earthquake! Lassie's arrived because little Timmy got trapped in a well-- again! No. Even as it seemed way too good to be true, it was true, and I happily moved in between those long, luscious legs splayed wide in welcome to me. I wandered into Wonderland. I cannot over-emphasize this. It was a purely magical moment, this chance to be sexually intimate with such a beautiful white woman. The splendor of the swinger lifestyle could not have been more keenly realized. She was the other man's wife, and if my deduction was correct, she was also a mom. That conclusion only accentuated this blissful kink. It was a cozy fit, but I penetrated her pussy easily, thrusting all the way in with my first entry. I would have preferred to indulge in extensive foreplay, taking my time with her. However, this was the wrong scenario for that kind of finesse. This was all about "cutting to the chase." All the same, it still felt so good, joining our bodies so completely in a most kinky and anonymous introduction. My penis was suddenly in unfamiliar territory of the best kind, and I settled into her. It was a place that rightfully and legally belonged to some other man, whom she dearly loved, and it was so wonderful to make myself at home there. Yeah, I had made it. An hour ago, I had stared in gawking wonder as this Super Couple first showed up to the party that night. Admittedly, lust entered my heart like never before as I beheld what I saw as the perfect white wife. An hour later, I was naked with her, my body between her spread thighs, my hard, condom-free dick stuffed all the way up inside her wifely pussy, stuffed in to my black balls. In a different dynamic, I might have looked back over my shoulder to compliment the husband, and thank him for the use of his very attractive wife. I relaxed my weight down on her, her ample breasts pressed against my chest, her arms encircling my back and shoulders. I paused to gaze into her steel-blue eyes, struggling hard not to look dreamy-eyed. Sadly, there would be no kissing, but she tugged me closer so that she could whisper in my ear. The message, though, was different than what I was told by the other man, for obvious reasons. My engorged penis was already inside her, bareback. Instead, her question was, "Are you okay with cumming inside my pussy?" Those eight whispered words were like a siren song casting a spell on me. My excitement peaked, but I played it suave: "You don't want me to pull out?" She answered, "No. Is that okay?" I mentally patted myself on the back for not inquiring about birth control. Still suave, I just said, "Sure, if that's what you want." ( Yes, this type of sex is also called "Breeding." It's all just kinky pretending, for most who are into the fetish. Some form of contraception is usually in effect. But in the event of an accident, in spite of all the responsible concerns, I admit that the possibility of impregnating a happily-married woman only excites me more, whether by accident, or by specific arrangement. *splashes cold water in face* )
It did feel slick inside her, so my guess was that not all the other guys had refused her risk-filled request. My other guess was that this couple collected cream-pies, most likely for later use at home. I think that their special kink was for the wife to get gang-fucked at gatherings like this, and keep as much cum as she could. It was clearly a turn-on for both of them. Once they got home, I suppose they savored reconnecting sexually, the husband aroused by having just witnessed his wife being such a slut ( I hate that term. ), reclaiming her with his own vigorous thrusting and copiously spurting deposits. Or it could have been that, like a true cuckold, the husband relished the taste of her messy collection of cream-pies. I have no solid idea, and since I never saw them again, I can never know. The only memories I may yet treasure are of my time together with one of the most beautiful women I had ever met. Well, in truth, I never even got her name, not at any time. But our bodies definitely bumped into each other's. As I began slow-fucking her, I deliberately kept my legs as wide apart as possible. Now that she had maneuvered to an angle which gave her husband full view of our merged genitals, I delighted in the fact that he could clearly see what I could only feel, that my black dong was all the way up inside his wife's tightly-gripping pussy. He would see no condom at all as I slid out, and thrust back in again, over and over, and over. He could watch us fornicating, another total stranger having his woman, giving her pleasure, as well as taking pleasure from her. His wife being shared, borrowed by several strangers of different races and sizes. I needed to know he was watching MY chocolate dick plunging full-length into his bride's tight pussy, as she was no longer forsaking all others. I needed him to know that I was going to thoroughly and gleefully empty my balls, eagerly pumping my semen straight into the place where they had conceived their offspring, just as the three of us wanted.
I felt Mrs. Super's legs wrapping around my lower back while I gyrated and ground my pelvis into hers. Her eyes were rolled back beneath her fluttering eyelids as she gave herself completely over to the sinful pleasure. With no kissing involved, the focus of sensation concentrated on the touch of my body between her legs, our genitals joined together, her vagina yielding to my foreign, invading penis in unconditional surrender. Encompassing this focal point was our body heat, our heavy breathing, the soft scent of her very tasteful perfume, her moans, the energetic undulations of my torso as I humped her, and in the distance, again, the low thumping beat of the dance music in the outer room. The entire tableau was so exhilarating in its moral depravity. I mentally imbued every inward thrust with the power of my admiration for this unobtainable white wife, as well as my acute envy of her husband. She was the full, living embodiment of that for which I had always dreamed, yet could never have. Here she was, right in front of me, with me, giving herself to me in this one golden experience. This was fantasy fulfillment in ultimate form, and I was on the threshold of the highest euphoria. Using my muscles, I wiggled my dick within her warm pussy to further emphasize my presence, the naked flesh of my shaft pulsing and rubbing against the tubular walls of her lawfully-wedded vagina. Fuckkkk! Super-sexy wife. You like this stranger dick? Were you all wet earlier tonight in anticipation, determined to go out to hunt some strange, some outsider cock to fill your mom-pussy? I wish I could have been down here when you were taking off your soaked panties for all these horny guys. I wish I could have seen you strip naked, shedding your blouse, discarding your expensive bra, peeling down those tight designer jeans, freeing your golden hair from its ponytail and giving your head a teasing toss. Did all their jaws drop to behold you, understanding your plan? Well, I'm with you now, right between your open legs. You like this stiff black dong, alive and throbbing inside your hungry married pussy for the first time, don't you, lovely one? You seriously want me to give you my seed, to flush my balls of their milky contents straight into you, right in front of your husband? You asked me for it, begging for a bareback fuck, and for all of my cum to erupt like lava, exploding deep inside you. Well, you can have it. I'm gonna give all of it to you. I can't resist giving you what you want. You want my semen? It's all yours. I only wish this could have been your honeymoon.
And then, my thrusts became increasingly rhythmic, and increasingly savage. I took this sexy white woman to the jungle, slamming her through another moaning, writhing orgasm, her warm breath escaping near my ear. The sounds of clapping flesh loudly competed with the dull thump of dance music. I fucked his wife like I meant it more than anything else in my life. When the tingles of my own climax arrived, I ordered my brain to record this as vividly as everything else I enjoyed with her. When I let it all go, I was as vocal and feral as the other guy, except he wore a condom. I hoped Super Hubby was impressed. My series of loud grunts, accompanied by the powerful spasms rocking my frame, provided the undeniable sign that I was shamelessly pumping all of my thick, syrupy cum directly into his mate's vaginal depths, never once pulling out. I had legitimately consummated my immoral fuck with her, just as she had requested, and just as he also clearly wanted. It was sheer and utter euphoria, perhaps reminiscent of the decadent orgies of Ancient Greece, and Ancient Rome. It's often the case that the more perversely kinky the sex, the greater the ejaculation. That's exactly what happened there. I gave Super Wife all of that week's stored-up cum, and last week's, and the week before that ( Yeah, it had been that long for me. I won't lie. ). I remember that she smiled at me, as if in gratitude. It even felt great as my spent cock gently spilled out of her sticky vagina, glistening in the shadow of our naked bodies. I imagine it made a soft kissing sound, the last strand of sticky moisture still connecting our genitals stretching until it snapped. I don't know or care what this amazing couple did when they returned home. I only know that I contributed happily and heavily to what it was they were looking for that night.
And all I have is the true story, which I alone have come here-- to tell thee (Thank you, Herman Melville! Haha!).
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