Nadia Nightside's Best of 2015

by Nadia Nightside

  The thought of his beautiful wife’s breasts bouncing as she sucked him off, her boobs covered in her own drool and his precum, smearing it along that thick expanse of titflesh just for him just drove him wild. He had lost time at work, caught up in the thought, and decided to leave early to make it happen. It was a powerful feeling, knowing that he could make a fantasy come true.

  Peter was still dressed in his work clothes, of course, but that didn’t exactly mean he was formal. He was the boss, after all, and he could dress how he wanted. Tight jeans, steel-toed work boots, and a dirty white shirt. The shirt hadn’t been dirty when he started the day, but he’d had to get into the thick of work today, helping to put up boards for a house frame and sliding into the muck for some wiring more than once. He wore a light tan jacket that covered most of the muck, and had been careful before leaving to wash his hands and face, but there was still a little dirt around his neck and shoulders. His “work grit,” as Anne liked to call it.

  She had taken, the last couple of days, to guiding him to his favorite chair right when he got home and rubbing his feet. He didn’t know quite what it was about, but he liked it.

  He got to the bar before Anne and Tatiana, and so ordered a pitcher of beer and sat down at a small booth near the back. He didn’t want to deal with all the crowds close to the television. There was some sort of football game going on tonight, the Tornados no doubt charging through some new team on their massive undefeated streak, but he didn’t have much interest in that. Even if they had the hottest cheerleaders in the entire league.

  It was around five o’clock, well before game time, when Tatiana and Anne walked in. Baker’s was a small bar, built for small business. They attracted the sort of crowd that stopped in for a beer and a shot after work, or newly-minted twenty-one year-olds who wanted to drink while they watched sports.

  Anne and Tatiana, dressed hotter than he had ever seen either of them, stood out like twin suns on a snowy day.

  His jaw dropped, torn between watching Tatiana’s hot tanned legs in those tight, tall boots, and his wife’s incredible bouncing tits as they strutted toward him. He tried looking at something else, but his gaze only shifted then to Tatiana's incredible rack, shown off expertly by her tight dress, and then his wife's hot legs in her daringly short dress.

  He scooted to one side to let them into the booth, but Tatiana took one side and Anne the other, sandwiching him in between the two beauties.

  He should have known then that something was up. They always wanted to sit next to one another and chat. Anne’s hips came right up on Peter’s, which was normal. She liked sitting with his arms around her. But Tatiana did the same thing, sliding in close, her thighs against his. Her warmth, vibrancy, was palpable. He could feel her heat through his jeans. His cock stirred, wanting her instantly. Then his eyes drifted back to his wife, her tits practically falling out of her dress. He wanted to bury his face in them.

  Wants, wants, all around...

  “Are you two...going out after this?” he ventured.

  They both laughed. “No,” said Anne. “We just...wanted to dress up, is all. Don’t we look hot?”

  “You look incredible. Both of you.”

  Tatiana squeezed the rock-hard bicep of his arm. “Thank you! See?” she said to Anne. “I told you he’d like it.” She leaned in and “whispered” in Peter’s ear. “She thought you’d think she was fat.”

  “No, god. She looks...incredible,” he said again. “Both of you.”

  He poured Tatiana a beer. Anne’s glass of water was already ready for her, thanks to Peter.

  “We haven’t talked very much since you got back,” he turned to Tatiana, apologetic. “I’ve been busy.”

  She shrugged, tossing her lustrous dark hair back. “It’s no problem. I know a man like you has a lot on his mind.”

  Something about the way she said that—calling him a “man,” it almost felt capitalized to him. Italicized, even. She was playing it up, glad that he was male and that he was entertaining her presence. Everything about her voice and body language was flattering.

  “I know you had a rough time out there in California.”

  She shrugged, appearing for all the world as if she had moved on completely. “It’s all right. Lesson learned. Don’t make time for fake Doms.”

  “Doms?”

  “You know. Dominants.” She watched his reaction with relish. “Did Anne not tell you?”

  Anne smiled, a little sheepish. “I didn’t know if you would want him to know.”

  “Oh, I don’t care who knows. I’m into being dominated. Hard. And completely.”

  Peter, despite himself, gulped a bit. “Oh.”

  “Yes. I think I would lose basically every inhibition I have if I was with the right sort of Master, you know? I wouldn’t care about fidelity, or tradition, or what he wanted to do with me. I’d be his complete and total slave. Forever. Doing whatever he asked. Wearing whatever turned him on. Fucking wherever he wanted...” she looked out toward the bar. “Even in public. Even at that stadium.” She pointed at the television, where huge-titted cheerleaders had lined up for the pre-show dance.

  Peter’s cock was becoming uncomfortably hard in his pants. He’d never heard Tatiana be this open about sex before. He’d heard her brag about this or that—saying she was a great fuck, or laughing about how she thought someone might be a bull in bed—but never so much candor about exactly what it was she wanted to have in the bedroom.

  Anne’s hand rubbed his thigh—the thigh opposite the one his cock was quickly growing against. “You know, you should tell her what you had me call you the other night.”

  He struggled not to choke. “What?”

  “Don’t be shy. She’d want to know. She could give us some tips.”

  “Tips?”

  He felt lost, swimming in lust. His wife was just talking about what they had done. She was going to just throw it out there. He’d never known her to be so bold.

  “On how to dominate me better. I mean, sucking you off, calling you Sir, and giving you sudden blowjobs is a good start—”

  Tatiana giggled. “I’d say it’s a great start.”

  “—but, don’t you think she could really let us know what’s in store if we keep going down that path?”

  “I had no idea you were so kinky, Peter. I knew you were, you know, decisive, but you’re...I mean, Anne, are you saying he was dominating you?”

  “I am. He was.”

  “Wow. That’s hot, Peter. I had no idea.”

  This felt...arranged somehow. Like he was falling into a trap. Tatiana’s hand came on top of his on the table—and he knew Anne could see it, she had fucking eyes, after all—but it felt natural. Good. He deserved this attention. That’s how they were making him feel: like this was just what he had coming.

  “I bet you’re just a fucking boss in the bed,” said Tatiana

  “He is,” Anne said cheerfully, squeezing his leg warmly.

  “Well, recently...” Peter cleared his throat. “Some things have gotten more heated than they were, yes.”

  “He’s being modest,” said Anne. “He fucked like a God.”

  Holy shit. He looked to his wife, expecting to find some sort of sarcastic smile, but she was merely staring at him with that same sort of glassy-eyed, lip-biting adoration that she had been showering him with all week long.

  Well, he thought, I did make her cum three or four times last night. She just wants that again. Like she should.

  “What if...” said Tatiana, dragging out the sound, “we play a game?”

  “A game?” asked Peter. “Like a drinking game?”

  “No way. I want Anne to play. What if we played truth or dare?”

  “Truth or dare?” Peter scoffed. “What are we, fifteen? No thanks. Let’s just talk. We’re adults.”

  Tatiana and Anne traded glances—indeterminable. Again, Peter got the feeling something was happening between them, but he couldn’t figure out what. Between the tw
o glasses of beer he had downed and the hard-on being coaxed forward by these two beauties, thinking was low on his list of priorities.

  “I gotta run this way,” said Anne. “Sorry guys. Pregnant lady and all of that.”

  She rushed to the bathroom. Her water was barely touched, but Peter didn’t notice.

  “Come on, truth or dare.” Tatiana was tugging at his arm, but in a way that made it feel almost more of a caress on his thick, dense muscles there.

  Peter rolled his eyes. “I’m not playing.”

  “Truth, then.”

  “Sure, fine, whatever.”He put up his hands in frustration. “Go ahead. Truth.”

  “Do you and Anne use dirty talk with one another?”

  “Do we...jeesus I thought you were supposed to warm up a little. You know. ‘What have you stolen?’ ‘Where’s the dirtiest place you’ve had sex?’ Things like that.”

  “Where is the dirtiest place you’ve had sex?”

  “Oh my god.” Peter put his face in his hands. “I’m not talking to you about that.”

  “Mine’s the butthole.” Tatiana giggled, pushing into Peter’s shoulder with her own. “Get it?”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, yeah.”

  What was with her? Why was she acting like this toward him? Was she really flirting with him while his pregnant wife was in the bathroom? That was...

  Well, that was kind of hot, wasn’t it? She found him attractive enough to risk a friendship so blatantly, just to stroke his ego.

  “Come on, tell me. Don’t you do any dirty talk? Maybe you roleplay?”

  “Roleplay?”

  “Like Master and slave, that sort of thing. Oh!” Tatiana’s face lit up. “Look at your blush. I bet you do,” said Tatiana slyly, one hip pushing into his.

  She used his arm as an anchor, both hands wrapping around the bicep. Her hands were so tiny compared to his arm muscles. Why did that make him want to fuck her so badly? She was so tiny and fit...he would break her in two with his cock.

  “Is that what you did the other night? She didn’t just call you ‘Sir,” did she? She went further. I bet you made her call you Master. I bet you get right off on that.”

  “Come on. We don’t do stuff like that.”

  Peter didn't want to keep going down this road. There was too much potential for disappointment.

  “Really? Why not?”

  “Are you serious? Because it’s...it’s, I don’t know. It’s not...us...”

  Tatiana had started drawing a line down from her neck to her cleavage. Her thick, glorious cleavage.

  “Really? Because I look at you, Peter, and I just see someone who is...very...Masterful. You know what I mean? I feel like you could tell me to do any old thing, and I just wouldn’t have a choice anymore. I’d have to do what you said. That’s the vibe I get from you. And with everything Anne keeps saying about how you’ve been dominating the fuck out of her...god, it just gets me thinking, you know?”

  Peter, slowly, was starting to cotton on.

  “In fact,” said Tatiana, “I bet you could make me do any old thing you want, right now.” Her lips crawled up to his ear, nibbling just gently. “Right in front of your wife. You could order me around, boss me like the boss you are. What do you think is on your mind? What could you come up with to make us have a little fun?”

  “Tatiana, come on. I love Anne. I love—oh.”

  Her hand slid up to his thigh, gripping firmly on the bulge there. He was already half-way hard. Feeling her slender, sure fingers around his length only made it pulse harder.

  “Tell me what you want,” she urged, kissing his neck just gently. “Master, please? Tell me what you want? Your slave wants to obey so bad...”

  “Ffff...”

  Peter's heart raced. He didn't know why this was happening. He didn't care.

  No, said a little voice in his head. You know why this is happening. These beautiful babes have finally woken up to what you deserve.

  And wrong though he knew that was, every part of him lost himself in believing it. Even if it was just for tonight.

  “I tell you what, Master,” Tatiana purred. “If you don’t say anything, then I’m just going to assume that you’re too turned on to say anything else. What do you think of that? I’m just going to keep doing what I’m doing, and whenever you want me to stop, you tell me to stop.”

  God, she moved quick. In just a few seconds, she had unbuttoned his pants entirely, freeing his fast-hardening cock from their denim confines. She let out soft squeals of glee and desire, intensifying when she felt the precum spilling out from his cockhead.

  At the other end of the bar, Peter saw Anne walking out of the bathroom. She caught his eye and smiled brilliantly. Fuck, he loved her smile. Seeing it made his cock pulse harder in Tatiana’s hand, which only made her stroke and coo more, which in turn again only made Peter’s cock pulse harder more, and so on.

  Peter knew that his crotch was hidden from Anne’s eyes. The table and booth were arranged in such a way that really, the only people able to know what Tatiana was doing were Tatiana and Peter. Tatiana’s hand motions were minute, contained, and deliberate. Though she stroked his cock expertly, she did it slow and steady. The passer-by might have easily thought she was simply tinkering with something in her purse, or dithering with her phone, or just letting her hand rest at one side.

  Anne scooted in, staring intently at her husband and friend. “So, did you guys start or what?”

  “S-start?” Peter laughed, somewhat nervous still. How much did she know? “What do you think we would’ve started?”

  “Truth or dare, silly.”

  “Oh, right. That.”

  Tatiana stroked harder. He leaned back, closing his eyes briefly.

  “Yeah.” Anne leaned in, pressing her tits on her husband’s arm.

  Fuck, Anne had such nice tits. He was so happy to be able to see them all the time.

  Peter laughed softly. “It’s just, uh, ha...”

  “Yes, love?”

  Tatiana pushed harder on his side, becoming positively obvious about what she was doing now. And yet even so, Anne still played the innocent.

  “I, um...oooh, god. That is...oooh. Jesus, you are just, really, really...”

  Feigning concern, Anne put her hand to his forehead. “Why, you’re burning up, dear. Do you have a fever? Should we get you home?”

  Anne’s pregnant tits pressed hard against his hard. They were so full and hot. Those pills she took really were doing a number on her. And if her nipples were that hard and erect, sliding up and down his arm...that meant...that meant she was turned on too. Of course, she didn’t care—she knew he loved it. Tatiana liked it too, biting one lip slowly as stroked and stroked on Peter’s cock.

  “I didn’t ask for this, you have to understand.”

  Anne nodded. “No one asks to be sick, dear.”

  “No, not that. What Tatiana is doing,” he said, teeth gritting.

  “Oh, yes. She looks very sexy, doesn’t she? Look at that dress. Her tits are practically popping out of it.”

  “No, I—”

  Anne took him by the chin, then, guiding his face around.

  “Look at those big, sexy tits she has, Peter. Aren’t they fantastic?”

  And before he had a chance to answer, her hand dropped down to his thigh, sliding up slow. There was no mistaking it now. Peter knew that Anne knew what was happening; he must have. And his wife had just guided his face around to her best friend’s tits as that same gorgeous, fit friend stroked his magnificent cock.

  He let out a grunt, breath heated.

  “Let her stroke you,” Anne urged. “Please? I want her to. I want my best friend’s hand on my husband’s cock. Please?”

  “Oh man, Tatiana...Anne...”

  “Do it, please?” Anne begged again. “Please...Master?”

  Her voice became so soft, so sweet, so yielding and needy, that Peter lost control. He began to orgasm. He could feel it—the sudden lightness in hi
s hips, the way his entire life force seemed to surge forward.

  “Fuck,” he said slowly. “I’m gonna...gonna...”

  He was sure he would spill all over his pants and Tatiana’s hand. But she was too quick for that. Anticipating his needs, she hurried downward and wrapped her face around his pulsing cock. Her preciously plush mouth took one long, twisted strand of cum straight down her throat as she spiraled her lips around his rod. Tatiana moaned with pleasure, slurping down each subsequent long pulse of seed. Her mouth felt amazing on his cock. Peter had given up the thought of ever having another woman touch him like that because of Anne.

  Now, Anne was practically drooling at the sight of her best friend’s face buried in his crotch, taking down his cum.

  “Oh fuck yeah,” Anne moaned. “Take him, Tatiana. Take my Master husband, won’t you? Swallow all of his seed. It’s so fucking good, isn’t it Tatiana? He’s so fucking delicious.”

  Anne pressed her tits hard into Tatiana’s mouth and face. The beautiful brunette tilted her head slightly, sucking eagerly on her lover's breasts, and then slid her mouth back down to Peter's massive erection.

  “F-fuck,” he moaned. “That’s hot. That’s so hot.”

  “It’s what you deserve, baby,” Anne cooed in his ear. “It’s what my husband Master has always deserved.”

  And Peter was beginning to believe it.

  * * * * *

  Before any further mess was caused, Peter made the decision to leave the bar and get back to the house. Anne had no problem with this—all part of the plan, after all.

  They rushed into the house and all three made a beeline for the bedroom, tearing off their clothes on the way. Peter tore between passionately making out with Tatiana, the taste of his cum no doubt still in her mouth, and then sliding his tongue and hands up and down Anne's tits.

  Soon, Tatiana and Anne were both on the bed before Peter, wearing barely anything. Tatiana had on her sexy boots. Anne had on her bra and panties, her pregnant belly easily visible in the light. But that was all that covered the two lovely women. They knelt before their Man, his body completely naked. The two held hands, eyes wide at Peter's expansive, rough musculature. All those thick, earned muscles. His cock standing out proud and huge.