As Joyce was led away the expression on her face was one of trepidation.
I was led through to the room where the entertainment would all take place. I scrutinized the audience for our performance. There were seven couples, all expensively dressed and clearly belonging to the upper levels of society, far above Joyce and me. I now recognized our hostess as the dean of the arts faculty at the university and her husband as a judge. Most others had been prominently featured in the society columns of the newspaper.
They were sipping wine while inspecting the piece of furniture in the middle of the room. All polished wood, gleaming chrome and black leather, the spanking bench contrasted garishly with the understated elegance of the other furnishings.
Mrs Warren entered the room and said to me, “If you’re ready I’ll present your wife to our guests.”
I nodded and Mrs Warren called for attention. Three people entered the room, two men in business suits and Joyce, wearing black stockings and stiletto heels but otherwise naked. They walked down the room, the men on either side of Joyce holding her hands. Her full, heavy breasts moved enticingly and I could hear murmurs of approval from the guests. The three stood beside the spanking bench and Mrs Warren addressed the audience.
“Ladies and gentlemen, tonight’s scene is a gift to Mrs Joyce Simpson from her husband Douglas to celebrate her fortieth birthday. Mrs Simpson will be strapped into my spanking bench and be soundly spanked, her first one ever! Then, when Mr Simpson judges his wife to be suitably aroused, he will fuck her to orgasm in their first act of public sex.
Joyce blushed but I could tell that being naked in front of these strangers was exciting her.
Mrs Warren continued. “Our spankers are Mr Donald Mason and Mr Eric Burke, both skilled in stimulating ladies’ posteriors. Mr Mason is right-handed and Mr Burke is left-handed so both Mrs Simpson’s ass cheeks will be spanked simultaneously. This will dramatically heighten the sensations for her. Now, while Mr Mason and Mr Burke prepare, you have a few moments to admire this beautiful lady.”
Mason and Burke removed coats and ties, rolled up the sleeve of their spanking arm and adjusted the bench. A blushing Joyce was appraised by the guests. She looked magnificent. Her breasts were high with the nipples erect. Her slender waist and full hips gave her a gorgeous, curvy figure. She had shaved her sex but left a triangle of verdant pubic curls. Despite her nervousness Joyce was excited and between her plump labia the inner lips were unfurled. The black stockings emphasized her firm, creamy thighs. Joyce turned to allow the audience to view her rear, two exquisite globes, full, ripe and succulent. When she jiggled her ass there were appreciative gasps from the audience. Perfect for spanking, said one.
“I shall gag you, Mrs Simpson,” said Mrs Warren. “That will further heighten your arousal, will muffle your cries and encourage you to drool quite prettily.”
Joyce had never been gagged before and I could see her panicked expression. Nevertheless she opened her mouth wide and Mrs Warren inserted a ball gag, fastening the restraining strap tightly behind her head.
The men helped Joyce kneel on the leather pads of the bench then bent her downwards at the waist so she was supported on her elbows and arms. The men splayed Joyce’s knees far apart. Mrs Warren fastened Joyce’s knees, ankles, wrists and elbows to the bench.
Joyce looked breathtaking. She was tightly restrained in an extreme doggy position with her head down and her back arched so that her gorgeous ass was raised. She was gagged, with her breasts hanging freely and her intimate parts displayed for the delectation of the guests. There were enthusiastic comments and I knew I was not the only man with a hard-on.
“Mrs Simpson is now ready for foreplay so I shall ask Mr Simpson to assess the condition of his wife’s arousal.”
I stepped forward and everyone gathered around Joyce’s rear to watch me. I slid my finger along Joyce’s slit then spread her inner lips to expose the lovely pink flesh. Opening wide the orifice, I carefully pushed a finger up Joyce’s vagina to feel the state of her G-spot then used my wet finger to rub her clitoris. As I licked the juices from my finger a lady asked, “Do you always examine your wife so thoroughly before fucking her?”
I nodded. “I want to ensure she reaches climax before I come.”
I stepped back and said, “Gentlemen, my wife is in your hands.”
The men played with Joyce’s ass, squeezing it, making it jiggle, testing the fullness of her buttocks, feeling their curve then separating them to expose her tight anus. Finally each man settled his spanking hand on Joyce’s rear.
Everybody jumped as the sound of the first spank resounded around the room. The men waited for the jiggle of Joyce’s ass to subside before administering the next stroke. They spanked with measured, unhurried but ferociously hard strokes. These were not decorous, playful smacks; this was severe, calculated punishment. I realized the strange sounds coming from Joyce were shrieks muffled by her gag. Although she was tightly restrained, she could move her hips and bottom and everyone was mesmerized by the wild wriggling of Joyce’s rump.
After ten strokes I stepped forward to probe Joyce again. Once more I looked at the pink flesh, felt her sensitive spot and rubbed her clitoris. Joyce was very moist now. But as I licked her juices from my fingers I said, “Another set please.”
The spanking continued. Joyce’s rear was now a blazing scarlet colour and was in constant motion, but she could not escape the relentless punishment. The men spanked her in a pattern that left no distinct hand-print on her ass but produced a large area of uniform colour on the tender skin. They curved their hands to fit the curve of her cheeks for maximum impact and produced a prodigious jiggle that flowed through her ass and down her upper thighs. It was intensely erotic to watch. And although Joyce’s rear was bright crimson there was not a mark on her thighs or her back. Mason and Burke were true artists.
People were now circulating to view my tormented wife from all angles. Several were watching her breasts bouncing wildly with her continuous writhing. But many were watching Joyce’s face. For, in addition to her muffled shrieks, drool dribbled from her gagged mouth. Like many others I found this unbelievably sexy. When I examined Joyce’s arousal after the second spanking I noted that all the men clustered around her tortured rear had obvious erections.
Joyce was approaching climax. My hand filled with her vaginal juices and both the G-spot and clitoris were swollen. “One more set,” I ordered.
I moved to the back of the room to remove my clothes while they continued. When Mrs Warren saw my huge erection she smiled admiringly and said, “A most impressive cock, Mr Simpson, it will greatly excite the ladies. Fuck your wife well, she deserves it.”
Joyce’s rear was now a brilliant scarlet colour and the heat emanating from it was like a furnace. I knew it would be excruciatingly tender and I needed to ensure Joyce was in full orgasm before I let myself come to climax. The guests clustered around for a close-up view of my penetration into her.
As I spread Joyce’s lips to again display her pink flesh, now wet with juices, there were many compliments from the ladies about my erection. I rubbed the swollen head of my penis over the wet flesh then used it to nuzzle at her orifice. Juices flowed from the hole and finally I forced the head of my penis inside. Reaching between Joyce’s legs to play with her engorged clitoris I teased her by repeatedly sliding the head in and out of her orifice. Joyce’s bottom writhed frantically and, even muffled by the gag, her cries filled the room.
I slid my cock deeper until the head was rubbing Joyce’s swollen G-spot. I seized her bottom, squeezing and kneading the tormented globes while my cockhead worked her sensitive spot. The combination of pain and pleasure caused more wild thrashing.
Slowly I pushed my cock all the way in, stretching Joyce’s vagina to the limit and since Mrs Warren had positioned her ass perfectly, I impaled her down to the root. I was now in contact with her scorching rear and ground myself hard against the crimson flesh. I arched over Joyce’s back to
seize her breasts, cupping and kneading them, rolling and stretching the swollen nipples. I increased the tempo of my thrusts, alternating deep penetration with stimulation of the G-spot, but gave her breasts no respite. The juices flooding from Joyce’s vagina coated us both and when her gagged shrieks reached a crescendo and she went rigid I knew she was about to climax. I thrust massively into her, grinding against her tortured bottom, battering her furiously as she convulsed in orgasm, again and again and again. I locked us together and when I came we bucked like rutting animals as I filled Joyce with huge jets of cum.
Gasping, I lay wrapped around Joyce’s bottom, still working her breasts. Her vagina squeezed my penis as she milked every drop of cum from me. When finally she released me I unglued myself from her rear and slowly pulled out my penis. There were admiring comments about the wet, sticky juices that coated us both. Joyce was still writhing but the convulsions had ceased and the sounds were now soft moans. I became aware that everyone was applauding and I could hear comments: “. . . best copulation I’ve ever watched . . . never seen such intense sex . . . most fuckable woman we’ve ever had perform”.
Mrs Warren spoke. “I think we can all agree that we have witnessed a most wonderful sex scene and I hope Mrs Simpson has enjoyed her husband’s birthday present to her. I shall leave her in restraints for a few more minutes so we may admire the birthday girl, restrained and gagged, severely spanked and profoundly ravished.”
The guests again circulated around Joyce, viewing her from every angle and exclaiming how beautiful and sexy she looked. Several ladies came to congratulate me and comment admiringly about my penis. Mrs Warren displayed the bowl into which Joyce had drooled. “I’ve never seen a lady drool so copiously,” she said. “It was exquisitely erotic.”
After several minutes Mrs Warren released Joyce from the spanking bench, removed her gag and wiped the drool from her chin. Joyce was very unsteady and Mason and Burke slowly walked her around the room to regain her composure. Many guests took the opportunity to fondle her. She put her arms around my neck and said, “That was the most intense sexual experience of my life, Doug, I cannot thank you enough for such a birthday gift.” We kissed passionately and although I dared not touch her tender bottom, I crushed her pliant body against mine. Everyone again applauded.
Mrs Warren said, “Tonight’s scene was a very private performance, a birthday gift to Mrs Simpson that we were privileged to watch. So the Simpsons will not be part of further intimate encounters tonight.” A loud chorus of protests erupted. Mrs Warren said, “Perhaps Mr and Mrs Simpson can join our sexual activities another time.”
Joyce left the room as she had entered, with Mason and Burke holding her hands. As she left, the guests were treated to the view of her perfect, scarlet ass jiggling proudly.
Joyce’s rear was so tender she couldn’t put on her panties or skirt so she was still naked when Mrs Warren, Mason and Burke entered the dressing room. Joyce showed no embarrassment at her nakedness.
“I hope we inflicted much pleasurable pain on you, Mrs Simpson,” said Mr Mason.
“We decided your ass was so perfect only the most extreme spanking could do justice to its eroticism,” explained Mr Burke.
Joyce blushed. “Well, you inflicted the most exquisite pain, almost more than I could bear, but then my husband gave me the most exquisite pleasure. So I think I’m a most fortunate woman. Thank you so much.”
“I hope we and our wives will have the pleasure of having intercourse with you both on another occasion,” said Mason.
“Oh, that would be delightful,” replied Joyce, with a sidelong glance at me. Mrs Warren raised her eyebrows and gave me a sly smile.
As I wondered what had happened to my wife, our hostess Mrs Saunderson entered.
“That was the most erotically charged performance Mrs Warren has ever produced for us,” exclaimed our hostess. “It raised everybody’s libido to boiling point so I expect bacchanalian revels tonight. It’s a pity you will not be part of it. But I hope Mrs Warren will soon arrange for you to join our carnal celebrations.”
Mrs Warren smiled. “Your performance exceeded my wildest expectations. It was eroticism personified. You are natural sexual performers. I’ll soon be in touch with you.”
On the drive home Joyce lay curled on the back seat, still naked, with her bottom positioned so it could be cooled by the air-conditioning.
“I never thought we’d have the nerve to do that,” she said, “have sex in public.”
“Don’t forget the spanking,” I added.
“That was excruciating, but so exciting knowing everybody was admiring my ass. I loved it. I guess we’ve been closet exhibitionists all these years. I didn’t like the gag much, although everybody enjoyed watching me drool, including you. Your erection was huge – I thought you’d split me in two – and you gave me a mind-blowing orgasm. It was heavenly, my best birthday gift ever.”
“So are we into kinky sex now?” I asked.
Joyce mumbled, “Yes,” and a few minutes later she was asleep. When we reached home I carried her to bed. She barely stirred.
Some days later we were invited to Mrs Warren’s apartment. She insisted on inspecting Joyce’s rear to be assured that it was fully recovered. “I was afraid they were too ferocious with you,” she remarked. “But, I have to agree with them, only the most extreme spanking can do justice to such a perfect ass.”
“I’ve been inundated with messages saying how thrilled the guests were with your performance and all emphasized they want to be intimate with you next time. So I propose that you join my little group of ‘intimate adult entertainers’. It’s a select group of couples that I send to various functions to facilitate and participate in sexual encounters. At some you might simply have intercourse together as an entertainment, but usually you would have sex with the hosts and their guests; and, when I produce a formal soirée, several of my couples perform a scene and then are available for intercourse with the guests. So you must be prepared to copulate with strangers, but there will be no drunken student parties or team gangbangs. My clients are impeccable couples, coming from only the highest levels of society.”
“But we’re not in our twenties,” exclaimed Joyce. “We’re both forty now, a mature couple. Who wants to have sex with us or watch us have sex?”
“Everyone,” said Mrs Warren. “Watching an athletic young couple have sex is delightful, but to see an experienced, mature couple in uninhibited, raw sex, fucking like feral animals as you did the other evening, that is the pinnacle of eroticism.”
I looked at Joyce, hoping to discuss Mrs Warren’s offer. But when I realized how excited she was I knew her answer. We became intimate adult entertainers.
For our training, Mrs Warren sent us to spend a day with Mason and Burke and their wives. I watched as Joyce was masterfully fucked by both men and saw, for the first time, how erotic it was to see her in orgasm. And, in turn, she was turned on by watching me severely ravish both wives. We sampled the pleasures of multiple partners, both double penetration (Joyce loved it) and triple (enjoyable but complicated). And, to Joyce’s delight, the men showed me how to correctly spank a woman. They taught me the art of bending an eager lady over the knee then pleasuring her by bringing a rosy glow to her bare bottom. It was all a wonderful introduction to our new lifestyle.
We’ve been performing for several months now and Mrs Warren has us booked for weeks ahead. We’re amazed at the extent of casual, recreational sex among the city’s high society and Mrs Warren’s entertainers always provide totally unrestricted and uninhibited sex for them. As Mrs Warren predicted, Joyce and I are in great demand and, I must confess, we absolutely love it. And, although we enjoy watching each other copulate with others, our private lovemaking remains as passionate as ever, although much more kinky.
For Joyce and me, life really has begun at forty.
Heat Index
Mia, St Louis
I swear I don’t know how I end up in these situation
s. One minute I was sitting at the bar, having a drink and talking about God knows what with Van, my on-again/off-again boyfriend-cum-booty-call, and flirting (as usual) with his best friend Eric, who sat across from me and pretended indifference (as usual), and the next minute I was sitting astride Eric, his cock lodged deep inside my cunt as Van nudged the tip of his penis against the tight little bud of my ass from behind.
OK, maybe it wasn’t one minute to the next. But it sure seemed like it. Let me back up a bit.
It was a hot, humid Saturday afternoon in the city, the temperature hovering around ninety and the humidity at the feels-like-you’re-breathing-underwater range. Of course, everyone else had taken off for the lake over the weekend to escape the steam coming off the streets and the humidity gathering in pools around the feet of the buildings, but I had a work deadline and, try as I might, had not been able to carve out a weekend of free time.
Such is the life of a freelancer.
I was staring out the window, supposedly looking for the exact right word to complete a sentence but actually in a kind of heat-induced semi-coma (my building’s air-conditioning had decided to go on the fritz that weekend, of course!) when my cellphone rang. It really did ring. I had it set on the “old-fashioned telephone” ringtone. Every time I got a call I grinned.
I looked down and saw it was Van. What was he doing calling me? He was supposed to be at the lake himself. In fact he probably was on the deck of someone’s boat at this very moment, a sexy blonde on one side and a bourbon on the rocks in his hand, the bastard.
“No, I will not come down to the lake and rescue you from Evil Emma’s clutches,” I said when I picked up. Emma was a notorious man-eater that Van both lusted after and feared.
“Some friend you are,” Van replied. “But it’s not me that needs rescuing, it’s you. If I don’t drag you out of your hole you’ll spend all weekend on that computer.”
“Aw, that’s sweet, Van. But I really don’t have the time to drive all the way down there.”
The Mammoth Book of Urban Erotic Confessions Page 25