by Gabi Moore
She threw herself back onto the bed, still laughing and still very, very drunk, completely doused in white. He was giggling too, and nervously reached for his glass, throwing back the last of his whiskey.
“Hey man, you look like you need another one,” he said, then put his trousers back on and headed to the mini bar again.
I looked at her, her face dribbling with strings of cum that she was now hurriedly trying to wipe off with her crumpled up dress.
With a deep, primal satisfaction, I gazed at her fucked pussy, and saw my own cum dribbling out of her, too, so much of it that there was no more room left inside her. I had thrust hard into her, putting it in as deep as possible, and I had come so much it was now flowing freely out of her again, right here in this room, on our holiday, with this, this guy watching.
He stayed the night.
My wife performed for him, little slut that she was, and I took full advantage of her altered state to send two more loads of cum into her before the evening was over. He slept in the bed, I think, but the whiskey was flowing, too, and blurred away the edges of all the events that came later…
In the morning, we overslept and missed out flight. Tanya laughed her head off at this.
Chapter Ten
Life went on, you know, as it does.
We caught another flight, came home, tried to make sense of what had happened, both completely ignoring all the tourist snaps we’d taken and throwing the picture postcards in the trash. For all we cared, we could have been in Timbuktu.
I’m a problem solver, by nature, and with satisfaction I was beginning to piece together that precise set of circumstances that would result in my wife turning into that raging little sex monster we now both knew she could be. I Googled it (and so what if I did?) and tried to get into her head in every way I could. She didn’t understand it, herself. She couldn’t tell me what left her cold and what seemed to flip that switch in her that turned her into the kind of woman that would gleefully take a load on the face from a stranger.
But I had seen it, and I wanted more of it, so I devoted myself to recreating the magic again somehow.
The first thing, though, was that she couldn’t know. It had to be spontaneous. Or, should I say, it had to appear spontaneous. Any hint that anything was planned would frightened off her newly fledged little kink and we’d be doing obligatory ovulation knobbing again and I couldn’t bear the thought.
No, she had to be surprised, on the spur of the moment, by complete or almost complete strangers, who would then be righteously turned on by how much of an unbridled tart she was being. I won’t say what effect this was having on me …but let’s say I managed to find hours each day to devote to furtive research on the topic.
About a week after we returned back from our holiday, both of us still riding this strange new wave that had appeared in the pool of our everyday lives …I had a plan. It grew slowly, almost imperceptibly, but after a few days it was there, fully formed, my own delicious secret.
Chapter Eleven
“Turn around, go on, let me see the back of it,” I said.
She curled up her eyebrows at me, then looked at herself in the mirror for the hundredth time, then twirled around in front of me, the stretchy fabric hugging her little behind.
“Nah, I think yellow one is better, wear that one instead,” I said, staring at her behind.
She looked at me hard, trying to figure out my new interest in her clothing choices, something I typically didn’t give two shits about.
“Really? The yellow one? Don’t you think it’s a little too …slutty?”
I smiled internally.
“No, it’s great. It shows of your lovely bum, wear it.”
She went back to the cupboard and stripped off, wriggled the yellow one on.
It was a great dress on her. It had blurry, abstract leaves all up the front of it, in just the right color to make her delicate hazel eyes seem like they were cut from amber.
“That’s better! Little minx,” I said.
“Will you tell me where we’re going already?” she said, beginning to twirl her hair up in the mirror.
‘No. I won’t. And leave your hair down.”
“Bossy this evening, aren’t we?” she replied, letting her hair fall down again, still not sure what to make of this whole thing.
“Shush and just get ready. We should leave in the next ten minutes, and you’ll find out soon enough.”
A dubious look came over her face, but there was something else underneath it, something like the start of her enjoying something, shall we say, a little spontaneous. We caught a taxi and her protests and begging for more information took a playful turn. She tugged at my arm and whined and twiddled with her earrings.
“Shh… it’s a bloody well surprise, isn’t it?” I said.
She beamed at me and we drove on.
A few years ago, doing something like this would have been …inconceivable. But within the last few months, I had been so regularly surprised by just how naughty this woman truly was. She was so different these days, a little wild, a little unpredictable. She was less of a list maker now, less concerned with being on time. And in bed, she had become sex mad, a sexual daredevil, performing her heart out at the mere thought of someone watching her.
We arrived at a non-descript looking brick building in a non-descript location. There were cars in the parking lot, the outline of two bouncer-looking types at an arched entrance that gave no indication that there was anything going on beyond it. No music, no queue outside. I could see a mild look of disappointment grow over her face, but she tried to conceal it, saying, “Ooh …where are we now, this looks interesting!”
We went inside; even though they were dark glasses, I could somehow feel the bouncer types’ eyes scan over her scantily clad body as she walked through three or four folds of heavy velvet and into a foyer. It was only once we were inside that the possibility that I had fucked up dawned on me. There seemed to be an air of anti climax all of a sudden, as though she had been actively expecting some sort of big reveal. For all appearances, we seemed to be in an ordinary (and almost empty!) nightclub. I told myself not to sweat it, that her disappointment would make it all the sweeter when it finally dawned on her where we really were. I decided to hold my tongue and let things evolve as they would.
“Want a drink?” I said casually, and we walked over to a purple back-lit bar. I glanced over at her staring around listlessly, playing with a loose mint leaf she had found on the counter. Oh god, what if this completely blows up in my big stupid face? What if this is like, the first step of my divorce? Here she had begged me for a baby like a nice respectable girl and I had bought her to a sex club?
I desperately tried to think of something to say, but before I could, she began chatting absentmindedly with the bartender.
“Bit quiet for a Saturday night, isn’t it?”
“Oh, you just wait, it’s a costume evening tonight. Give it an hour and you won’t say it’s quiet…”
“Costumes?” she said, her face lighting up a little.
“Oh yeah, everyone goes all out. First time here is it?”
She nodded.
“First time? Ah, you’re gonna love it,” he said, giving her a lascivious wink and pushing two beers towards me.
I quickly steered her away before he said any more.
“Well, that guy was a bit creepy, wasn’t he?” she said, and we settled down at some tables in a small enclave some way off from the main dance floor. The room seemed big on purple – softly glowing purple orbs hung above us, and there were faint flecks of purple and pink glitter in the concrete dance floor. Each enclave was partly sectioned off with some heavy drapes that could be shut to create little private purple bubbles… I watched her closely, to see if she noticed this, or the little cushions that had been scattered in some of the corners.
“That’s cute! You can sit on the floor over there!” she said, and I relished how clueless she was. There was another ro
om in this club. A room for her. But I would wait before I showed her that.
People started to drift into the club pretty quickly after that. The music was beat-heavy, loud yet unobtrusive. We hadn’t been there an hour when a big group of people stumbled in, a group of mostly women in outrageous outfits – they formed a mass of mostly bare limbs, straps and strips of lace and PVC as far as the eye could see, and a woman with a pair of tits so unruly they seemed constantly in danger of shaking off the flimsy pair of tassels she had stuck on them. Tanya stared with wide eyes, then raised her eyebrows at me.
It was imperceptible at first, but the arrival of this group seemed to click the whole club into its next gear, and somehow more people appeared, the music deepened, the lights dimmed and Tanya turned to me, half finished drink in her hand, “Oh my god did you see that! That girl’s totally taken her knickers off!” I threw back the rest of my drink and tried hard to suppress a giggle. A slow, shocked expression crawled over her face, then erupted into a smile.
“Oh my god. Alan. Where are we? Is this like…? Like a …?” she said.
I took another theatrical sip of my drink and nodded. Her mouth hung open for a few moments.
“Are they going to… right here…?”
I shrugged. I didn’t know honestly. But I enjoyed how excited she suddenly seemed.
“Finish your drink and then I’ll show you, they have other rooms too. This is just the dance floor.”
We got up and she flashed new eyes over the crowds around us, suddenly very interested in what everyone was wearing, and whether anybody had claimed the cushioned enclaves yet. I gently took her by the hand and we wandered till we found a new section, one that made her sparkly eyes light up even further. My heart ached to see her this happy. And the rest of me had started to ache, too.
We stopped and took in the sight of it: in the centre of the room was a large, shallow pool trimmed with spidery plants, scattered Bohemian looking cushions, little glass benches. But what caught her eyes almost immediately was the room’s real focus: suspended above the pool with heavy looking chains was an enormous bed on a floating platform. It was empty but richly upholstered with white pillows and cushions, almost as though it was waiting. I watched her face, the cogs turning, and hoped to hell she wasn’t about to chew me out for assuming she’d go for any of this.
Instead she turned to me after a moment and planted a fat, urgent kiss onto my lips, grasping my head in her hands. I laughed in relief. And then there it was – that naughty glint was in her eyes again, that glint I had first seen on the side of the road, and again as she danced naked on a bed for some stranger in a hotel room. I smiled, pretty chuffed with myself indeed.
I went to get us more drinks, and she stood there, looking a little vulnerable in her yellow dress.
“When you’re finished this drink, we’ll do it, OK?”
She said nothing to this. She only stared at me long and hard, then proceeded to throw back half of her drink in one gulp, then wipe her wet lips with the back of her hand. I laughed. Why had we never done this before?
The music picked up, people peeled off in semi-secret groups of twos and threes to kiss and grope in corners. She was in her element. Almost ready, but I didn’t push it. The bed towered above us all, giving everyone a full view of its as yet unoccupied sheets. The last of the drink disappeared into her lovely throat and she looked at it and then me with a boozy expression.
“Ok, let’s go.”
Chapter Twelve
I took her hand and we ascended the narrow staircase that led to the bed; I swear I could detect her heartbeat fluttering in her fingertips.
She had lowered her eyes and was walking slowly, deliberately on each step in her dainty heels, but the rest of her body was proud, fully on display. Her shoulders were back and her pert little behind waggled deliberately form side to side as we reached the top, the chattering in the room dying down a little as everyone turned to look.
The atmosphere was electrifying. Something like a trance fell over her, and her eyes seemed to dim down under heavy eye lids and an expression of deep concentration - the face you make when tasting something faint but delicious. She took two leggy steps towards the bed, planted her palms down onto it and made a show of tracing two big circles there, hips thrust out.
She was hot, and knew it. The people below knew it, too.
She spun around to face me and giggled, then all at once she was doing that same snaky dance with her hands held loosely above her head. She was teetering high on her heels, balanced up here for everyone to see her, from every angle. With a swift movement, she reached down and pulled the hem of her dress, turning it inside out over her head and letting it carelessly float down into the pool below. It was so brazen, so unlike her, I couldn’t help but laugh. Something stirred below us, and I became aware out the corner of my eye that a small, curious crowd had gathered around the pool below.
She twisted and turned a little now in her lingerie, a tipsy diva enjoying nothing but the music and the feel of the cool air on her hips, her breasts. I knew better though. I knew that inside she was steadily working herself into a frenzy, ready to explode at the first touch, like the ravenous little slut she was.
I flopped down on the bed and watched her, happily realizing that every eye was firmly glued on my wife and not me.
The bra and panties came off, to an indistinct cheer from below, which broke her reverie for a while and caused her to smile and hide her face, embarrassed. Even from the bed, I could tell her turned on how she was. She pounced onto the cushions next to me and drank up a deep, luscious kiss. Her hands were greedy, too, and rushed all over my body to unzip and unbutton me, and my dick sprang up to meet her, pleased that I had brought her here, and that now I would take her the rest of the way, too.
I had had enough of her toying and showing off anyway, so I lunged to grab her and fling her down flat on the bed, wild hair tossing out beside her.
For the next few minutes, my lips and tongue worked over her beautiful body as she lay back like I was worshipping her: I rolled my lips over her taut belly, nibbled and kissed the fullness around her breasts, and gave only the most fleeting licks to her slightly parted legs.
Now, my preferred style is just to pin her down and fuck her till she gets that zombie-look on her face and stops convulsing, but here, oh, she would want a little more teasing. I wanted her to be the star of the show. She parted her legs and lifted hungry hips to my tongue, but I pulled away. I knelt and gestured for her to suck me, and I imagined, not without a little vanity, that at least half of the people below envied me at that moment.
I gripped her head and forced her throat down onto me, loving the subduing effect this had on her. I pushed my full length into her mouth, admiring the perfect kiss her lips made at the hilt.
With each plunge, I grew harder, but she enveloped me completely with her skillful mouth, little tongue working inside. I brushed a lock of hair from her face, glowing and tightened in concentration, and was filled with nothing but bliss and love for her. I pulled back, reached forward and plucked her up, then lay her on the bed, her supple body waiting, buzzing with anticipation.
Here, she gave me a look that froze me in my tracks. It was a simple look. It had something of the past in it, some gentle yearning glance that spoke of so many years, so much water under so many bridges. It was like a momentary flicker of nostalgia, and it seemed to draw a brief curtain round us, creating a split second bubble of privacy in this vast, open club, this bedroom with no walls. My breathing stopped, my heart stopped, and every last atom of my attention went to her, and the fragile look on her beautiful face.
Look, I’m not a romantic, but something changed in me then. They say that women truly become mothers the moment they decide that they want children, or the very second they fall pregnant. Fathers, on the other hand, only become fathers once the baby is born and they’re in front of them. Me? I became a father the moment I stared down at my beautiful wife, purple
light glowing all round her, her sweet, open face to mine, and I knew I wanted nothing more than to love her and fill her up with enough cum to make a million babies.
Until then, baby-making had seemed like something she was doing, something that only required me to stand by and do my bit when the time came. But now …something in her golden eyes made me want to really give it to her. I had been giving Tanya things my whole life, and now, here, I wanted to give her every last bit of me. My life. My heart. My soul. My body. My cock.
The curtain lifted again and without wasting any time, I dove in, parted her legs and rammed into her with one slick, brutal thrust. She cried out. I sunk deep into the wet folds of her, pressing away her body’s last fluttering resistance, stroking deep into her body; each stroke meeting a moan from her. She clutched desperately at my back to stabilize herself against what I was subjecting her to. Instead of easing up, I stabbed harder, each thrust lifting her hips off the bed. I felt wild. Her head hung limply off the edge of the bed, her long hair making a light brown fountain onto the platform below, shaking with each pump.
I felt bigger than I ever had in my life, enlarged somehow by my new purpose to immerse completely in her, to plunge my greedy cock right into the heart of her and fill with her with hot, sticky cum. She had a look of blissed out shock on her face, her little eyebrows quivering as my body dominated hers. And then, something strange happened: the lights in the club visibly dimmed, and this time the curtain wasn’t in my imagination. A soft spotlight hovering above us began to glow purple, while the lights in the rest of the club died down and darkened.
We were being put on display. If people hadn’t been watching us before, they certainly were now.
It was as though this sent tangible ripples through her body, and she arched her back, showing off her breasts and white throat. She loved it, being fucked in full view of everyone here, a literal spotlight on her body. I leaned in close, so close I could smell the moisture on her skin, and growled something in her ear, something I didn’t even comprehend, but could have only one meaning: I was going to come.