Unwrapping Wet Amber

by Kamilla Murphy

  “Oh Carl, you’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met. I need to thank you for starting all this. You and Amber opened my eyes to how much fun sex can be, and I’m sure Pete is feeling the same way.” I was going to respond but she placed a finger on my lips to shush me. “Before tonight I was so naïve, and I worried too much about what I looked like and whether my husband felt good and not enough about me feeling good. You guys changed all that.”

  “And we enjoyed every moment. Don’t forget that.”

  “We’re going to do this again, right?”

  “Someday, babe. However, you two have to make sure that it’s still about you both, and not us or anyone else. That’s one of the pitfalls of swinging, I believe, focusing on the sex and not about the underlying love where things began.”

  She kissed me on the cheek and padded from the bed, heading off to the other bedroom and more sexual adventures. My eyes followed her ass as she left the room, and I once more pondered how any hot woman could doubt her own assets. I’d said, “Someday,” but in reality I was looking forward to nailing that sweet ass again. I heard a few moans and screams before I fell asleep a happy man.

  I awoke to an empty bed—again. I hit the toilet and then pulled on some pajama pants before going downstairs to see who was up, if anybody. Amber was the only one in the kitchen, sipping her coffee. “Are they gone?” I asked.

  “Yes. Gwen didn’t want a scene this morning, and we weren’t sure when Danny would be home.”

  “A ‘scene’? Did Gwen have second thoughts about last night?”

  “No, certainly not,” she said with a smile. “She’s ready for more, I think.”

  “You were great with her,” I said.

  “Not as much as you were. I think she fell in love with you a little bit.”

  “I hope not.”

  Another smile. “I hope not, too.” She then let her robe fall open and mischievously said, “Let’s go back to bed. Danny won’t be home for a while.”

  I carried her up the stairs. Needless to say she was already soaked.

  Later in the week I spoke with Peter over the phone, and he assured me all was well. Evidently Gwen had become ravenous and they were having sex at many times and in many places around the house. He once more thanked me and Amber. “The pleasure was all ours,” I responded, and I wholeheartedly meant it.

  I had a visitor the following Saturday morning while I was doing some yard work. “Hi Carl,” she said. “Do you know you guys are the talk of the neighborhood?” Maddy looked sensational, radiating more sexual intensity than ever. My cock actually stirred looking at her. Of course when Danny heard she was out here he popped out of the house to indulge his pubescent fantasies.

  “Hi Madison,” he said, then got right down to business; “Why are you here?’

  “Now Danny, that’s not polite. She’s here to talk to me about grown-up stuff so please go back in the house.” My use of ‘grown-up stuff’ probably fueled his imagination. If he only knew, I thought. Sulking a bit, he left us alone and I suggested that we go for a walk.

  “You know, Carl, you look really good without a shirt on and all sweaty like you are,” she said with a lascivious grin.

  “Smelly, too,” I joked.

  “Can I scratch and sniff?”

  “No, and let’s cut the bull. What’s up?”

  “I just wanted you to know how royally pissed off my parents and the Kellys are that you fooled around with the Mackies and they didn’t. Have you seen Gwen Mackie lately?”

  “Yes, I’ve seen her. She’s transformed, hasn’t she?”

  “Yeah, like turning a mouse into a cougar, though I guess she’s too young to be called a cougar.”

  “Any slinky cat would do as a metaphor, I think.”

  “And you guys did that. It must have been hot. I bet Pete liked your wife.”

  “I’m not going any further with this conversation, young lady. Suffice it to say that it was fun all around. So, instead of my love life, let’s talk about yours.”

  She laughed, “Still no boys, so technically I’m still a virgin, but hanging out with Alicia Kimball has really opened my eyes to everything. I mean, like I’m not a lesbian or anything but she sure is fun to fool around with.”

  “So, you’re doing your own kind of swinging it seems.”

  Another chuckle, “I guess you could say that.”

  “How are things with your folks, besides them being pissed off at us, I mean? They still swinging?”

  “Are you kidding me? I don’t think they’d stand to be with each other if they couldn’t openly fuck other people.”

  “I’m sorry about that. I wish things were… more stable for you. But I am glad you’ve turned out to be a very special young lady, and I’d be proud to consider you my daughter.”

  “But not my lover,” she muttered and pouted.

  “I’ll make a deal with you, sweetheart. If you still feel that way on your eighteenth birthday I’ll throw a party for you here, and I will take care of that virgin technicality once and for all.”

  Her mouth was agape. “You mean it? What about your wife?”

  “We’ll invite Alicia too and we’ll have an orgy. Or maybe we can convince Eric Kelly to make an appearance, just for you.”

  “I think you’re kidding me,” she said slightly above a whisper.

  “Does this feel like I’m kidding?” I said as I pulled her to me right there on the street corner for all to see and kissed her deeply. She melted into me and surrendered to my tongue. She also felt my bulge as I intended her to.

  “Whew, now people will talk!” she said breathlessly when we separated.

  “In this neighborhood what we just did is nothing.”

  She was flushed and her laugh was like a hiccup before she said, “Eighteenth birthday, huh?”

  “It’ll be special.”

  “I love you Carl, but you always knew that, didn’t you?”

  “I’ve known. But I’m already taken.”

  “Yeah. Everyone says how lucky you are to be married to Amber because she’s so beautiful, but I think Amber’s the lucky one. I hope she knows that.”

  “She does, and I know it because even with her insatiable lust and after having the likes of Eric between her legs she comes back to me.”

  “And I would too.”

  We steered away from sex talk though we did share gossip on our neighbors until she said she had to go. We’d doubled back so I was at my house when she said goodbye with a blown kiss. I blew her one back.

  We never did swing with any of our neighbors except Peter and Gwen Mackie after that. I knew that Amber had a few trysts with men she either worked with or met during business functions. I didn’t mind since I conceded to her unquenchable sexual appetite, and like I told Maddy she always comes back, telling me about them afterwards—then we had monumental sex.

  Plus there was the time Eric Kelly visited his brother, and we invited him over for cocktails. He and my wife must have fucked for hours.

  And I watched with unrestrained glee.

  Of course.

  Bonus:

  CA$H COW

  I told my husband I’d had enough. “C’mon Danny, what the fuck are we going to do? Shit, I’m working as many hours as I can get and you’re not making any more in your job. How we gonna pay the fuckin’ bills?”

  He looked at the bills I waved at him and said, “I don’t know, Dee. We’ll make do.”

  I shook my head. What could I say to that lame response? More curses?

  Dan and I have been married for twelve years. We’ve had the proverbial ups and downs for sure, though this ‘down’ had been the toughest. I’m basically a realist but I’ve had my dreams. I’d like to have a nicer house in the suburbs and have nicer clothes and go to nice parties. I had a college degree and always believed I’d have a great career and make enough money on my own. The recession killed that dream. Conversely Dan’s dreams had been a mystery to me since I met him. It was love at firs
t sight for me; he was a lean hunk and seemed quietly self-confident when I met him, unlike the egotistical boors I’d met in college. Somewhere along the way, I don’t know why, the self-confidence went away and he wasn’t the man I married anymore. I still had my dreams but they weren’t his. I still had my shape too; I’d never been a centerfold hottie yet I looked good and men sure still glanced my way. What truly vexed me was that as Dan’s self-confidence waned so did his sex drive. On the other hand, I was at a sexual peak, practically masturbating twice a day. So you see, money wasn’t the only problem we had, but it was becoming the catalyst of our discord.

  That night after climbing from the shower, I looked at my reflection and thought, still looking good… tits are still firm and high… no sag yet… and the ass can still get them looking…I muttered to myself, “Yeah, fucking ‘make do’… damn him.” How were we going to do that? Maybe I’ll take a second job and keep the income for myself. I remembered a college roommate trying to talk me into stripping to pay the bills. I declined back then but now looking at myself in the mirror I began to wonder if that wasn’t a bad option after all. The only problem I saw with that idea was there were no strip joints in my general area. Where could I go to find a job like that?

  I forgot the notion for a couple of days. Then more bills came in the mail and the idea of stripping came back to me. I began searching the web for possibilities. One internet article mentioned Backpage but when I googled most of what I found were listings for escorts. Now that would be an interesting second job, wouldn’t it? I imagined a posting: “HORNY AND HOT NON-PRO LOOKING FOR A LITTLE EXTRA MONEY FROM APPRECIATING GENTLEMEN.” That got me laughing. No way could I do that—stripping, maybe, but not hooking.

  Again, the ‘extra cash’ notion was forgotten for a few more days. That was until It came rushing back on a particular day when an influx of bills arrived, and while I was amazingly horny and Danny declared he was “too tired” for a bed-time romp. I fell asleep angry and frustrated.

  —And determined. The following morning I called my friend Lana and asked her to meet me for lunch. While eating I hit her up for her condo. Lana had to be the most libidinous person I knew, and had maybe a half-dozen fuck buddies (something I was envious of) both male and female. She rented a condo in town to ‘entertain’ so her sugar-daddy husband wouldn’t find out. I didn’t have a sugar-daddy, so my plan needed that condo.

  “You’re what?” she exclaimed a bit too loudly in the crowded restaurant.

  I shushed her. “Yes, I’m going to try the escort business for a while. I need the money.”

  She shook her head, “Oh honey… Dee… I’ll lend you some if you’re that desperate.”

  “I guess that’s the right word… desperate… but not only with the money situation.”

  We talked for a while in hushed tones between bites. I doubted if I truly convinced her but she agreed to let me use the condo as my “incall” crib. We set up a schedule of sorts of when it would be best for me to ‘work’ at my new job.

  Later that evening I composed my ad and placed in on Backpage’s escort section. I said I was an amateur, hot MILF, and was available as GFE, while also saying the usual about gentlemen preferred, good hygiene, and D/D free, etc.

  By the next morning I had over a dozen calls, most I let go to voice-mail. A couple I did take wanted me that night, and I told them I was booked—in reality I was scared shitless and not ready. I changed the ad to narrow my available hours to the days I wasn’t working. Most of the voice messages sounded like the men were unintelligent idiots, so that became my first filter. Two of the messages passed that filter, so I called each of them. The first didn’t answer, and I wasn’t about to leave my own message. The second guy did answer. He had a basso voice that immediately got my juices flowing. Of course, a lot of cops have those deep, authoritative voices. I had to be careful. For his part, he wasn’t crude, asking questions about my services discreetly. He said his name was Steve. I gave him my “donation” rate and we agreed on a time. I had done some research on how escorts set up calls, so I gave him the instruction to call me one hour before our appointment. He acknowledged that, and in a slightly sheepish manner said he looked forward to our time together.

  By the time he called I was a nervous wreck, unsure if I could go through with it. When he called, I gave him general directions to Lana’s condo complex but not the number. When he got here he would call again for the unit number. I’d gone crazy thinking about what to wear. I could answer the door in lingerie, but would that be considered tacky? I settled on an old pair of very short and tight cut-offs and a checked blouse that was open all the way through my cleavage, and tied underneath. The farmer’s daughter image would be complete if I’d found a piece of straw to hold between my teeth. I gave myself the onceover in the mirror. Except for the nervous eyes I declared myself hot-to-trot. I teased up my long brown hair into a perfect ‘hooker hair’ fluff. Only minimal make-up; I was ready.

  The condo (luckily) had a great view of the entrance and road, so I saw his car enter. It was a late model “Baby Benz” so I figured that lessened the chance he was The Law. He parked and then my phone rang. I gave him the unit number and tried to calm my nervous stomach.

  He seemed as nervous as I was when I ushered him in. He wasn’t that bad in the looks department; perhaps in his late 40s, and a little overweight. He ogled me, barely able to make small-talk with his salivating mouth. He handed me the money without a word. I put it in a kitchen drawer and invited him to sit next to me on the sofa. I sat very close, touching him ever so slightly, and asked some questions about what he did for a living and where he was from. He answered haltingly, and I only half-listened to what he said. I did like his deep voice, though.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he said. “May I kiss you?”

  “Of course you can, sweetheart.”

  Before I could say anything else, his lips were on mine, his hand was grabbing a tit, and his tongue was slithering into my mouth. I gently pushed him away. “Whoa, big boy! How about going into the bedroom and getting comfortable, okay?”

  “Okay,” he answered through trembling lips; he was so aroused, his erection straining his pants.

  He went into the bedroom. I’d lit some candles in there before he arrived, hoping that would lend the right atmosphere to what we would be doing. I counted the money—all there—and hid it in a different drawer. I walked into the bedroom with as much swing and sway as I could muster. He was naked and reclining on the bed, eyes fully on me as his hand casually stroked his larger than average dick.

  I untied my makeshift halter and let it fall to the floor, exposing my good-sized breasts. As I undid my shorts, I said, “What would the big guy like?”

  “Can you suck him?” he said, his cock visibly stiffening to its full length as he said it.

  “Sure I can.” I dropped my shorts to the floor and kicked them aside. In only a thong now, I got onto the bed next to him, taking his cock in my mouth.

  I thought of the money in the kitchen drawer. I’d better earn it, I thought. I had to admit the dude had a good cock and I was having a tough time sucking the thing because of its girth. However poorly I judged my technique, he seemed to be enjoying the experience tremendously—much moaning interspersed with “Oh baby, you’re good… Oh baby…”

  Thinking maybe I could get away with skipping penetration, I stopped and looked at him, saying, “You want me to finish you off, sweetheart? I’ll swallow—”

  He needn’t say anything, though he did; his facial expression gave it all away. I went at it again, taking as much of him as I could down my throat until I felt the tell-tale swelling of his cock. My tonsils got blasted by streams of his cum. Damn, the dude was a fire-hose! I almost choked on it all, but shit, a promise was a promise. I swallowed the whole damned load like a pro. Well, wasn’t I one now?

  We mostly talked for the remainder of his paid-for time. I let him play with my tits for a while, knowing he was trying like hel
l to get back up again. We never agreed on a double-pop fee, but I probably would have let him if he managed another erection (He was my first client, after all). Alas, he couldn’t, and he departed, ostensibly a happy man and saying he’d love to see me again. We’d see.

  That wasn’t too bad, I thought, as I gargled some mouthwash to clear my semen-filmy mouth. I checked my messages to find two. Both were looking for time later in the afternoon. I chose the one that sounded older and more interesting, and called. He answered, saying his name was Dave and asked me for my fee. I mentioned my ‘donation’ amount for the one hour session he was looking for and he agreed so we set up the time and the phone call process. After hanging up, I called the second man and told him I’d be busy. I offered some time the next day I would be free and he said he’d think about it. Fair enough.

  The second man (see, I was tallying them up already) made his calls and was soon at the condo’s door. I still had on the same outfit. ‘Dave’ looked disappointed; what did he think I’d wear—nothing? Okay, maybe I wasn’t his physical type. I’ll show him, I thought as I ushered him in and told him to get comfortable.

  Like before, I placed the money in a kitchen drawer while he went into the bedroom. When I walked in he was down to his boxers and sitting on the edge of the bed. He arose and grabbed me and pulled me onto him on the bed. I felt a moment of fear before I realized he wouldn’t hurt me. He was the caveman type, that’s all.