The Complete BBW Hotwife

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The Complete BBW Hotwife Page 10

by Sadie Somerton


  We were all going to need some rest. It was going to be a long night.

  Sharing Lucy

  “Tell me, Lucy. Tell me all about it. The biggest fantasy in your head. The one you come back to time and time again. The one you think about when you close your eyes...”

  I lay there, my arms stretched above me, my wrists secured to the bed frame with metal handcuffs. Not those padded play ones you can get, the kind that leave no mark and pop open at the slightest pressure. These cuffs were police-issue, and unforgiving. I like the bit of metal on my skin and when we play like this I like things to be authentic.

  I swallowed, focusing on the ache in my shoulders.

  Jason’s gentle touch on the curve of my belly was a delicious contrast.

  I looked at him, waiting patiently.

  He was on his side, one leg raised. His dick pressed against me, semi-hard, wet at the end.

  We’d already been like this for some time. He’d gone down on me, brought me to an intense, rapid climax, and now I was ready for more.

  “You know the one,” I said, and he gave a slight nod. “The fantasy. You know how it goes.”

  The hand on my belly started to rock from side to side, the thumb gently stroking.

  “Tell me...”

  §

  Jason had seen so much more of the world than me. More of life. He’d explored, he’d had his wild times.

  Me... I’d led a more sheltered existence. Don’t get me wrong: I’d had my fun, I’d had some wild times. But... well, there’s so much more I wanted to try.

  One of the lovely things about my marriage with Jason is that he understands this, and he has no hang-ups about my little adventures. Hell, he even encourages it, as long as I tell him about it all later. So yes, I’ve fooled around, I’ve tried a few new things, and then I’ve always come back to Jason.

  But there’s one thing... one fantasy... that keeps coming back to me. One thing I haven’t yet tried.

  In my mind it’s in a big country house. A country club, perhaps. Or a private mansion.

  I turn up at the grand entrance and I’m greeted by a hot young man in a butler’s uniform – the crisp white shirt with a stiff collar, the black tails, the slicked back hair, a dusting of dark stubble.

  He bows his head to me, holds the door, then skips round ahead of me and leads me through to a big sweeping staircase. I follow him up, my eyes skipping around: the paintings on the walls, the domed ceiling with light flooding through high windows, and then back to the young man a few steps ahead of me. He moves like an athlete. He glides up those stairs.

  I follow him to a doorway. He pushes the door, then steps aside for me to enter. The anticipation is like electricity in the air, a summer storm waiting to break.

  §

  “Tell me what’s in the room?”

  Jason’s eyes are fixed on mine, and that little smile plays on his face.

  His dick is hard against me now. It’s not just me the anticipation works for.

  His hand on my belly has crept down just a little. The side of the hand is pressing against my mound, shaved smooth just this morning. Even the slightest movement of his hand tugs at my pussy, and I can feel my own wetness growing.

  He starts to roll his hand more firmly now.

  “Tell me...”

  §

  The room is empty, save for a mattress on the floor.

  I look around, then become aware of a presence behind me.

  “May I?”

  It’s the first time the butler has spoken. I look back into his dark eyes, remembering the way he moved.

  I nod and he reaches for the zip at the back of my dress, eases it down.

  I give a little wiggle and the dress falls away. I kick it clear and turn. Those dark eyes are exploring me hungrily now.

  I reach for his jaw, allow my fingers to trail through the dark stubble. Press one fingertip against his lips.

  He reaches round me, finds the clasp of my bra, and expertly releases it. The bra falls away, and I clutch it to my full breasts, forcing him to take it, tug it away until I’m exposed to him.

  His hands drop to my waist, and then he lowers himself to his knees. His hands follow my generous curves down, across my hips. His fingers hook into the lace of my panties and ease them down. I step out of them and come to stand with my legs slightly apart. His mouth finds my belly and kisses across the smooth skin, his stubble rasping, sending thrills through me. He crooks his neck, tilts his head sideways, and buries his face against me, pressing hard so his tongue can probe my softness.

  When he finds the hard stub of my clit I cry out.

  I reach down and bury my hands in his hair, guiding and controlling him.

  I’m so turned on!

  His tongue stabs and flicks, taking me close and then holding, teasing, leaving me hanging...

  He stands and gestures. “The mattress.” His voice is gruff, strained. The sight of the tight bulge in his pants sends another thrill through me.

  I move to the mattress, lower myself to sit with me legs curled under me, and meet his look.

  He starts to undress. The long jacket, the crisp white shirt. His shoulders are square, his body lean and tight. Dark body hair runs across his chest and down his rippling belly to where his hands are now, releasing his belt, unbuttoning his pants. He kicks his shoes clear, tugs at his socks, then slowly pushes his pants and shorts down.

  His dick springs free, long and hard and shining with pre-come.

  I reach down and touch myself. So wet!

  Fully naked now, he stands before me.

  I lean back on both hands, displaying myself to him, loving the effect my naked curves have on him. His dick points towards me, so close, waving in the air as he moves.

  He bends at the knees, and I watch the way his muscles move in his thighs, a tightening in his belly.

  He puts a hand on my shoulder, steadying himself, and then the swollen wet head of his dick glides across the smooth skin of one breast until it comes to nestle in my cleavage.

  He starts to thrust, fucking that deep channel, his balls slapping against my breastbone and the head of his dick coming up to slide against my neck before dipping back down.

  I shift so that I’m only leaning on one hand, raising the other to cup one heavy breast, pushing so that channel becomes deeper, tighter.

  Just then, a noise comes from the doorway.

  I glance across.

  A man stands there. A stranger. He’s tall, his hair blond and he is very naked. His abdominal muscles angle downwards in a V-shape, drawing the eye to his dick, hanging at forty-five degrees, filling out even as I watch.

  He approaches, and by the time he reaches me he is fully erect.

  I take my hand from my breast, reach for him, take him in that fist and start to pump, my strokes long and slow. I savor the rolling of skin against the hard core of his shaft.

  I pull him closer, run the head of his dick across my lips and cheek and into my hair.

  This is why the mattress is on the floor. All the better for men to stand around me.

  Men...

  Another has entered the room. As I pull and twist at that second dick I turn my head away. To the other side there’s a black guy with a powerful body like a sprinter. He’s come from nowhere and now he reaches for me, takes a fistful of my hair and pulls my head onto him.

  I swallow, taking him deep. He holds my head and starts to thrust, fucking my face hard and deep.

  A dick between my breasts, one in my hand, one in my mouth. This is my biggest fantasy, the one that comes back to me time and time again. Always a variation on this.

  A hand slides between my legs. A finger slides in, the heel of the hand grinding from side to side against my clit. I don’t know whose hand. Someone new? One of these guys somehow twisting to reach?

  A movement behind me, a dick sliding against my neck and into my hair. My eyes flit around the room. Too many bodies to count now, all around. The men I’m to
uching, and others standing by, stroking and pumping their dicks in their hands, waiting their turn or just enjoying the view.

  I shift position, uncoiling my legs from under me. Lying back with my legs held high as one of them mounts me, presses against me, slides in. Fucking me hard while I suck and stroke.

  One guy kneels over me, jerking off into my face. He’s the first to come, his arm pumping like a piston. A jet of semen spits out across my cheeks, across the dick in my mouth, and down my neck. I reach for the cock, pull it to me and briefly the heads of two dicks push at my mouth before I twist to suck the last juices from the one that is now softening.

  Lower down, the guy drives deep and braces, then I feel wet heat pulse inside me. He pulls away, and almost immediately is replaced by another.

  I feel that wet heat starting to transform. A tightening in my belly, an increased sensitivity throughout my body.

  More wetness sprays across my breasts. I’m being touched everywhere. Dicks, tongues, hands, fingers. Everywhere.

  I push up, trying to hold that dick deep inside me. Feel a new tightening, a bolt of pleasure, and then there’s that rapid flutter of muscles deep inside me as my climax hits, over and over, lasting so long I’m not sure I can take it any more...

  §

  I rolled and twisted against the pressure of Jason’s touch, the cuffs cutting hard against my wrists.

  Expertly, he holds his hand against me, fingers deep inside me, cupping and rubbing and pressing and drawing my climax out longer and longer until...

  I slumped, opened my eyes and saw that smile, as he moved his hand away, looped an arm around me, cradled me.

  Exhausted, spent from his skilful ministrations, I pressed against him, his dick still hard against my side. I couldn’t believe that already I was thinking about getting him to unlock me so I could give my attention to that gorgeous erection.

  I could barely move!

  He leaned in and kissed me on the jaw, and then, delicately, on the mouth.

  “That fantasy always works for you, doesn’t it?” he said.

  I nodded, then said, “Mmmm. Big time.”

  After a slight pause, he said, “I could arrange that for you, babe. I know some people. A place. All you have to do is say the word.”

  §

  “No,” I told him, as he released the cuffs, and I pushed him onto his back. “Let me arrange something, okay?”

  I swung a leg over him, straddled him, felt him hard against me, beneath me.

  I considered cuffing him, but instead, impatient, just held him by the wrists above his head.

  I started to roll my pelvis, sliding along his length.

  “Just leave everything to me, okay?”

  §

  I asked my friend Celia over coffee a few days later, and she was up for it immediately.

  She knew a place. Not quite the grand country mansion of my fantasies, but an out of town hotel, closed for refurbishment, fit the bill quite nicely.

  “Will the owners be okay if we, erm, borrow it?” I asked her.

  She laughed. “They will if I tell them why we want it,” she said. “You want help inviting the guests? I know some people...”

  §

  We drove up in Celia’s SUV. The place was a sprawling redbrick building set in carefully tended grounds.

  “Nice place,” said Jason, as we pulled up. “You say it’s not open yet?”

  “Not to the general public,” said Celia, with that little laugh of hers.

  Give or take a few architectural details and the fact that there were three of us, this was pretty much how my fantasy usually opened up. There was something that worked for me about the idea of a luxurious setting for what turned into a scene of utter debauchery with me at the center.

  But then...

  The person waiting at the door was no athletic stud in a butler’s uniform.

  We climbed out of the car and Jason looked at me, and then back at the person waiting to greet us. A woman, maybe six feet tall, she had a broad shoulders and a full bust, her breasts pushed upwards and together by the ribbed body of her maid’s outfit. The skirt was short, revealing a flash of bare flesh at the top of fishnet stockings. High stilettos emphasized her height, and the length of those legs.

  She was looking at Jason, waiting.

  She may have been dressed as a maid, but if serving staff had ever really dressed like that, nothing would ever have been done.

  Celia and I held back. Jason turned to us, an eyebrow raised inquisitively.

  “This isn’t how the fantasy goes,” he said.

  I smiled then. “Not mine, no,” I told him. “But I’m not the only one with fantasies.”

  §

  I slipped a hand around Celia’s tiny waist and gave her a quick squeeze as Jason turned back to the building and approached the doorway.

  The woman in the maid’s outfit – a friend of Celia’s called Marie – stepped forward to get the door and Jason followed her through. I could see from the angle of his head that he was watching that ass. Hell, we all were.

  Celia and I followed at a discreet distance into the foyer of the hotel. The refurbishment was pretty much complete, just a few dustsheets and boxes to show that anything had been done.

  We came to some stairs and let Marie lead the way, all eyes on those legs, that ass.

  A doorway opened onto a suite, the large bed moved out into the middle of the floor. Ease of access, all around.

  Jason stood there, his mouth hanging open.

  For a moment, I wondered... all the stories, the talk. I’d always believed that Jason had led a wild life before he’d settled down with me. But what if most of that had just been big talk? Right now he looked like a rabbit caught in a spotlight, a timid virgin, uncertain and slightly scared.

  I went to him.

  I stood at his side, put a hand to his chest and one to his shoulder, tipped up to kiss him on his cheek.

  I reached for his shirt, found the top button and released it. Found the next.

  But his eyes weren’t on me. They were on Marie as she dropped to her knees before him, her eyes always fixed on him. I knew just what a turn-on that was for him, a woman looking up at him, holding eye contact like that.

  I slipped a hand into his half-open shirt, trailed my fingernails across his chest. Found a tiny hard nipple and flicked it back and forth with my nail.

  His jaw sagged further and he gave a soft sigh, just as hands reached for his belt. Marie’s fingernails were long, a vivid hooker red.

  Celia came to stand at his other side, then. She put one hand to the back of Jason’s head and forced him to turn and kiss her.

  So arousing, watching my husband kissing one of my best friends like that! I know lots of women wouldn’t be able to handle that kind of thing, but my relationship with Jason is so strong, and we’re both so switched on to the other’s arousal and enjoyment. The sight of the two of them was really hot. Knowing how he was responding, that she was making him hard... harder.

  As I watched, she slipped a hand down to his belly and started to pull his shirt free. I returned to the buttons, working my way down, and soon all three of us had hands at the top of his pants, tugging at the belt, pulling at the buttons, teasing at the skin of his abdomen as it became exposed.

  His pants started to slip downwards, then caught. I made eye contact with Celia and she slipped a hand down, pressing Jason’s erection against him so Marie and I could ease his pants down.

  “Oh my...” he groaned, in response to her touch.

  When the pants were clear she kept her hand there, grinding the base of her thumb into the hollow where his dick met his belly.

  “Oh...”

  Marie and I took hold of the waistband of his black shorts now and pulled. Celia eased her hand clear, then put it straight back as we pulled down, catching his dick as it sprang free, pressing his hard length back down against him, still grinding the heel of her hand against him.

  I dropped t
o my knees and helped Marie pull his pants and shorts clear.

  My head was now level with his dick, so close, as Celia, finally, raised her hand. His dick followed, as if it was pushing her hand up, and then she curled her fingers around the shaft and started to twist and pull.

  I knew the feel of that dick so well. Its weight in my hand, the smoothness of the skin, the little involuntary twitches and pulses in response to my touch... and now Celia’s touch.

  I slipped a hand up, and found his ass, the muscles tensed, rock hard. I trailed my fingernails across the skin, found the crease, ran my middle finger down it. And all the time, Celia squeezed and twisted and now Marie was working her way up from his knees with her mouth.

  Celia dropped to her knees now, across from me.

  I met her look, matched her smile, followed her movement as she leaned forward.

  Her lips were the first to meet the side of his shaft, then mine a split-second later. I allowed my mouth to open, flicking at him with my tongue, and then my lips met softness, Celia’s lips, top and bottom.

  We pressed, kissing around him. My tongue pressed against his shaft, curled under and met Celia’s.

  I started to drag my head to one side and Celia copied the motion so that our two mouths slid together along the length of his shaft. When we reached the head, we flicked with tongues and then slid back down again.

  Marie had reached higher now, her mouth working his inner thigh, then turning to lick at his balls.

  When Jason groaned I knew she had taken one of his balls into her mouth, then she moved again, bringing her face on a level with mine and Celia’s.

  And then she dipped her head, taking the swollen end of Jason’s dick between her lips and holding it there before pushing to take it deeper.

  Slowly, slowly, she took him in, until her mouth came to meet mine and Celia’s. Then, as Marie started to draw away, Celia and I followed her, sliding the length of Jason’s dick until we reached the end. Holding... teasing with our tongues... and then the three of us slid back the other way until he was impaled in Marie’s mouth once again.

  The next time, we moved more quickly, and then we started to get the hang of coordinating our movements, our three mouths working him hard and fast.

 

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