I have often boasted that Jake and I have the perfect marriage. He is my Prince and I am his Madonna (you’ll have to check out my other posts to know why he calls me that). Over the years we have matured along the way to envelop our sexual needs; our desires; our fantasies and, most important, our love for each other. 25 years now and it just keeps getting better. The kids have flown; I’ve been ‘fixed’ so that I can no longer have that happy accident called pregnancy and, best of all, Jake encourages me to indulge in my passion for extra-marital cock . Whether this is due to his confessed inability to keep up with my demands or the other confession he made a few years back that he was a closet voyeur and loved to watch was a happy combination as far as I was concerned. I was quite willing to ‘put on a show’ while getting fucked knowing he would be getting his satisfaction from watching. Indeed, it has never been all about me for, generous soul that I am, it is always better when he can participate in my liaisons.
Having said that, we don’t agree on everything – what married couple does? – and if there is one thing that drives me crazy is his passion for Sports and on a lesser scale his weakness for gambling (a toxic mix as I see it) and with us both having a stubborn streak to our nature there have been times when yet another game/match/contest/whatever has been promoted as being a ‘must watch’ that I have flipped in protest at having another afternoon dominated by some silly contest. Words have often been exchanged resulting in an impasse being reached and us both retreating to our corner and counting to ten (or more) until tempers have calmed down.
However, I am realistic enough to accept that I can’t always be having things my own way and maybe there has to be a bit of give and take. Which brings me to relate how I managed to accommodate both our interests and how it may have set a trend for the future.
It was a few weeks back when Jake announced that he was having few friends around to watch a game of Rugby; not just any old Rugby match but one that would define the future of our nation, apparently.
“It’s Australia versus England, for Chrissakes,” he said with his usual passion.
It could have been the local Women’s Institute against the Girl Guides for all I cared but it was clearly something that was special for him and so I relented and agreed that maybe he could invite his mates around to our house to see the game; such is the price to be paid for having a Sports subscription on cable. “.... but, you aren’t getting away scot free with having all your drinking pals around and me sitting there waiting hand and foot. I’m thinking there has to be something in it for me.”
Jake looked quizzical, “what do you mean?”
“Well, I’m thinking that this stupid game of yours has a few moments when you blokes get over-excited like when a goal is scored ... “
Jake quickly corrected me, “Rugby; it’s a try.”
“Whatever; a Try then. Well, I’m thinking that from what you said and who you are thinking of inviting that you have two distinct groups of supporters. There’s your boozy Australian mates and there’s the ex-pat UK lot who will surely be supporting the Poms.”
“Yeah, so what are you saying? Do you want me to invite them around or what?” he said with an increasingly puzzled look on his face.
“Right, here’s the deal, and you’re going to like this, you like sports; I like fucking different cocks. We are going to set up a list of rules and we then both get what we want.”
Jake’s puzzlement continued to be written over his face as I continued.
"Here’s what we are going to do – and you better check with your mates that they OK with this before you close the invite – I am going to be the prize for the bets that you will surely be having. I’ve been giving this some thought and I’m thinking the way to go is that there a set of rules that we will follow, such as:
Firstly, You men must stay dressed at all times until the end of game.
Secondly, I will dress just as I please. I’m thinking I’ll put just enough on so it can be a bit of a Strip Poker type of bet. I’m intending that I’ll end up naked if all goes to plan.
Third rule, I must sit on a ‘winner’s’ lap whenever his team scores a goal.
Jake interjected again, “Try”.
“Whatever, Let’s say up to a minute. If they do that conversion thing then maybe I’ll sit a bit longer. If there is a penalty or that thing when the ball is chucked in when they line-up facing each other ..”
“Line-out,” sighed Jake.
“Whatever, or the whistle blown and they do that Scrumming thing or whatever other reason, then the ‘winner’ has to undress me by taking off one item of my clothing then I have to change laps to whoever is the next winner. I am not allowed to move or touch then when I’m sitting there but they can do whatever they please.
“Now comes the best bit, at the final whistle the winning side gets me for a whole hour to do what they want with me.”
Jake looked at me open-mouthed but I could see I had caught his interest as his trouser front showed distinct signs of disturbance. “You’re crazy, how long did it take you to work that one out,” he said with a broad smile over his face.
“Never you mind; do we have a deal? You get to watch your stupid game and I’ll get to have a bit of fun. What’s not to like?”
“Well, it doesn’t sound like much of a bet to me but whatever makes you happy, OK, you’re on.”
*******
Saturday – the day of the match – came around and Jake had been in a high state of excitement all week. I wasn’t sure if his excitement was due to his anticipation of the Rugby game or in expectation of the ‘other game’, if you get my drift. He had spent the week sounding out suitable candidates who would be up for our planned afternoon and I was pleased to learn that Blake would be amongst our guests. The other half dozen blokes he had invited were a mix of Aussies and Brits. A couple of the Brits, he told me, were Black and apparently when he shared with them what was on the agenda they were almost as excited as him at the prospect.
We had decided that we would watch the game at our house rather than the other option of going to Jake’s local Rugby Club as we figured if things went according to our plan that the regular clientele at the Clubhouse might not be too enamoured with witnessing what we anticipated happening. Some people can be so sniffy!
I spent the morning being the dutiful wife and hostess and made sure the fridge was stocked with beers and that there were plenty of sacks of nibbles – crisps, peanuts and the like – on hand. Once I was satisfied that the catering department had been taken care of I retreated into our bedroom and shut myself away to prepare myself for the revels ahead.
First off I had myself a luxurious bath full of scented, sudsy bubbles. How I love that feeling of warm water immersing my body and to rock back and forth and let the water slosh and course over me. I opened my legs and I thrilled to the touch as the water flow seemingly attempted to peel open the lips of my pussy. My tits likewise felt the effect of the warm water as I moved and I smiled to see my nipples stiffen as they were lightly caressed by the tide. Mmm, lovely.
I decided that for a special treat I would let my ‘new friends’ have the joy of me sharing a smooth pussy so I reached over to the shelf and picked up Jake’s razor – he’d never know – and giving my pussy mound a covering of lather I carefully scraped all around and removed every trace of hair I could find. I lifted a leg and from top to ankle I did the same then repeated the search on the other. Satisfied I was baby-smooth all over I then rinsed off any remaining foam with the hand shower paying particular attention to my pussy and - mmm again – as I sprayed the jet over my clit. Then just to make sure everything was set I touched myself with outstretched fingers and shivered and sighed as they slipped in and around the warm folds and lips of my wet cunt.
Out of the bath and drying myself with a large fluffy towel I went to my closet to choose a suitable ensemble for the afternoon’s game. Mindful of my suggested ‘theme’ of strip poker I knew I had to pick an outfit that was both provocative but also had a few layers. “No point in just wearing a bikini,” I’m thinking, “that would be off in the first 5 minutes after the start and where’s the fun in that?!”
So it was that I found a matching set of lingerie which had lace-trimmed panties and a half-cup bra; a garter belt together with a pair of dark sheer stockings (Urrg, so uncomfortable, why do blokes find them such a turn-on? They ought to try wearing them for a while!); a nice low cut almost transparent white blouse which buttoned up the front and, finally, a short leather skirt which just about covered the top of my stockings. I laid them all out on the bed and reviewed my choice and counted up. “Let’s see now, that’s 1, 2 ,3 ... 9, if I count in a pair of shoes.” Then I had the bright idea of adding a tiny thong to the mix, “just to prolong the agony,” I thought.
With midday approaching I began the careful process of dressing and making myself presentable. Usually whenever we would be getting ready for a planned session of fun Jake would be sitting alongside like a patient dog with his cock straining inside his pants as he watched me go through my preparations. This time however he was otherwise occupied down at the club gathering up our invited guests so I just had to imagine he was there for me to tease.
As ever the first step was to smooth on my expensive Body Lotion the scent of which I know drives Jake wild. This was followed by stepping into the thong which once I had pulled it up almost disappeared other than the tiny triangle of fabric which just about covered my pussy lips. I then put on the French knickers and bra. I cupped my tits and looked at my reflection in the mirror, my areoles peeking above the lace trim of my bra, “God, already you’re looking hot, girl,” I said giving a pout.
I then carefully rolled the nylons up my newly shaven legs and snapped them to the fastenings of the garter belt before sitting down at my vanity to apply my make-up. Not too much mind, a little blusher, mascara and a subtle hint of eye-shadow, red lippy and I’m good to go once I’ve sprayed my favourite perfume in all the right places. I brushed my long hair until it shone and fell over my shoulders and the natural curls nicely draped over the top of my tits which by now were peaked with the stiff nipples that somehow always appear whenever I’m feeling horny!
I completed the ensemble with the white low cut blouse, my wrap-round leather skirt and finally a pair of sling back sandals. A final look in the mirror and I had it confirmed; I looked the complete slut.
It must have all of 10 minutes after I had come downstairs and was busying in the kitchen that I heard a car drawing up outside. It was Jake with Blake (our ‘special’ friend), Carl (the builder who had ‘shared’ me before) and another of his mates from the club; the ‘volunteers’ spectating the game. They bundled through the door and all of them, including Jake, did that jaw-dropping thing when they saw how I was dressed. “Oh my God ...,” his voice trailed off without completing the prayer.
I smiled and did a theatrical pirouette, “You like?” The stupid grins on their faces provided the answer. “Where are the others?” I asked.
Jake found his voice, “Oh, they’re following in James’s car. He had to go pick them up from their hotel.” James is the local UK rep for a British airline that flies into our city and Jake had met him through work and their shared love of Rugby. Sure enough, a quarter of an hour later the door bell rang and there was another quartet of Rugby fans waiting to get in, gagging for the game(s) to start. I was thrilled surveying them as they wandered in. James I knew, the other three were strangers but they were all gorgeous and, yes, two of them were Black which I hoped was going to turn out to be a first for me.
They all trooped into the lounge where Jake had repositioned our couches and chairs so that everyone could see the widescreen TV mounted on the wall. There was a scramble for seats but soon everyone had found a place and there followed a period of introductions and ‘nice to meet you’s, etc’. I found out that the Poms were, like James, engineers of James’ airline and they were on a stopover for a couple of days. Whatever.
As planned, we were two distinct sets of fans, us 5 Aussies (if you want to count me as a fan) and the 4 Brits who were going to be cheering for England. Everyone, apart from me, was dressed in shorts and Tees or, bless them, a team shirt. I showed no favour as I bustled around and made sure everyone had a drink ... and an eyeful of my tits or my ass as I bent down to hand the tinnys out. Jake handed out bowls of nibbles and then stood centre stage and explained once again the rules for the afternoon. He pointedly looked at me and said, “Remember Madonna, no touching until after the game is over.” The excitement was palpable and you could have cut the atmosphere with a knife!
Attention turned to the screen as the teams came out onto the pitch to form up and sing lustily through the national anthems as a prelude to tearing each other apart, or so I thought as I lusted myself at the sight of all those bulging thighs, neat bums and other manly features that caught my eye. I licked my lips and hoped I was showing no patriotic preference; a generosity I was going to demonstrate over the next few hours.
Australia won the toss, the whistle blew and the ball sailed up in the air to be caught by some opposing mate at the other end. He gathered it up and ran straight toward his rivals only to be caught and tumbled to the ground in a most forceful fashion. I held my breath thinking, Penalty, and the start of my own game but I was quickly advised this was not a foul but how the game was played. How disappointing. However, I didn’t have to wait long for as the game went back and forth ‘somebody’ did ‘something’ and a penalty was indeed awarded to Australia. A chorus of cheers went up as Blake held out his hand and pulled me over to sit on his lap. I settled myself down and deliberately keeping my hands still I thrilled as I felt the lump in his shorts press up against my ass. He looked into my eyes and gave me a pouty air kiss and proceeded to pick at the buttons of my blouse. Neither of us paid any attention to the action continuing on the screen, we were both focussed on the slow revelation of my tits nestled in my bra as he set about the task of undoing all the buttons and then peeling of my blouse. I could feel my pulse pumping in response to the naughtiness of being ******* in front of a bunch of relative strangers.
Our reverie was broken by the sound of the whistle and once again something had happened that caused one of our rules to be broken (don’t ask me what, I have not a clue what the game is all about other than one side getting the ball over the opposing team’s base line. At least I think that’s what it’s all about; everything else is a mystery.) I looked around and one of the Brits was holding out his hand signifying that England must have done something to their advantage. I left Blake and dutifully tripped over to the waiting lap. He reminded me his name was Paul and gave me a peck on the cheek. Again I had to force myself not to touch and I squirmed in mild frustration as he fiddled around my waist looking for the release on the belt of my skirt. I soon realised that he wasn’t being the complete innocent but was just trying to prolong his pleasure of having me so close. He dipped his head and nuzzled in between my cleavage as he held me around the waist. I felt his warm breath and then the touch of his tongue on my breast. It made me shiver and I struggled to keep my hands to myself.
I heard the whistle blow and a chorus went up followed by cries of, “Come on Mads, it’s Charlie’s turn.” I had no idea what had occurred in the game but clearly some transgression or event had triggered the ‘breaking’ of our rules. I slipped off Paul’s lap and spun around to see who answered to the name of Charlie. Oh Wow, it was one of the Black guys. He had a sly grin as he waited for me to go and join him and I didn’t hesitate to sit astride his legs and face him. He put his arms around me and I felt his warm hands trace across my back as he sought the clasp of my bra. Like Paul he took his time and pulled me against him so that my breasts were squashed against his chest. The clasp was released and a cheer went up from everyone as he gently pushed me away and my tits were ******* for all to see. I looked around and saw that everyone’s attention was on me and the game seemed to be temporarily forgotten. I felt myself beginning to moisten between my legs and thought maybe Rugby isn’t such a boring game after all!
Again the whistle and a shout went up, “Penalty.” Apparently one of the Brit players had done something unkind to one of our sweet lads and was about to be penalised. “Great job,” I thought as I transferred my attention to another lap. This time it was Carl and he was taking our game to a new level for he had pulled his shorts down to reveal the lovely cock I had enjoyed a few weeks ago. I sat down and stared at this lovely object as it poked up between my thighs and itching to wrap my hands around the object of my desire. He reached and undid the snaps holding my stockings and one after the other slowly rolled them down and pulled them off my feet. (I had already abandoned my sandals somewhere between laps.) He then took hold of my hand and placed it on his cock. Someone protested, “Hey, that’s not allowed; she not supposed to move.”
Carl responded, “She didn’t move; I moved her. It doesn’t count!” I joined in the laughter and as our eyes met knowing what was to come after the game was over I gave him a squeeze.
And so it continued; the whistle would blow, an assessment of the ‘foul’ was agreed by the armchair critics and I would be directed to go and sit on another lap to be fondled or otherwise by the lucky winner. Half time was called and I was reduced to wearing just my knickers and the hidden thong. Jake who had won the last bet decided that he would forego me stripping off anything but rather that I would be the halftime entertainment. He told me that as his reward for winning the bet the performance would be I had to go to each guest in turn, take their drink order and when I served it I had to hold the can or glass in both hands and lean forward and let them kiss and suck on my tits. I affected a mock look of horror and disgust at such an idea but my body language gave me away and I eagerly complied for the next 15 minutes feeling the most delicious sensations as hands, lips and tongues applied themselves to my stiff nipples. My hands were full of drinks so that I couldn’t do any touching myself; Jake’s hands were full of his cock which he was stroking through the pocket of his shorts.
The second half kicked off and I swear my panties were sodden already such was the excitement I was feeling having been touched up and caressed by so many different pairs of hands and all in the approving presence of my husband. I so much wanted to return the favours I was receiving but our rules said otherwise. “Still,” I thought to myself, “only 40 minutes to go and then ....”
The game continued and the excitement mounted for all manner of reasons. Another foul caused the referee to blow and it was the other Black guy’s turn to disrobe me. (I never did remember his name!) I sashayed over to him with a broad grin on my face and stood in front of him with my legs slightly apart. He reached for my waist and to the encouragements from everyone else (who, to a man, had turned away from the TV to look at me) he hooked his thumbs in the waistband and slid the silky knickers down to reveal my thong-covered cunt. I giggled as a collective groan went up at the realisation that my pussy still hadn’t been revealed .... but I didn’t fail to notice that some of the groaners were stroking their cocks through the fabric of their shorts.
10 minutes into the second half and a yell went up as a Try was scored – patriotism prevents me from saying who – and once again all attention was on me as James held out his hand (damn, now you know who scored). I adopted the persona of a shy virgin and head lowered shuffled over to him. He ordered me to turn around so that he could admire my rounded bottom and the other’s could get a good view of the ‘unveiling’. He delicately took hold of the thin ribbons of the thong and slowly pulled it down. My juices which had been flowing for some time had caused the small triangle of silk to stick to my pussy and I shivered as I felt it unpeel as James continued to slowly draw it down over my legs. I looked at my audience and their reaction was all I could have wished; they could have been dogs slavering over a juicy bone such was the sense of lust written across their faces.
“Look what we’ve got here,” he said holding me by the waist and slowly turning me around to display my total nakedness to the others just as if he was a Slave-master showing off his latest purchase. I played my part by keeping my eyes downcast and held my hands across my breasts trying to preserve my modesty. It was a charade that didn’t last long for I burst into a fit of nervous giggles before I had made even one rotation. With a “Ta Da” I flung my arms wide and placed my feet apart so that nothing was hidden from view. The game was forgotten as without any assistance from James I continued to turn around so everyone could have an uninterrupted look at my smooth hairless body. Most had already had a good look (and feel) of my tits but none had seen my ******* pussy and the effect was clear to see. Everywhere I looked were bulging shorts or, for the more blatant, stiff cocks which had already been freed from the confines of clothing. God, how that sight made me even wetter and my pussy seeped more of my juices to coat the top of my legs.
The game still had 30 minutes to run and it hadn’t missed anyone’s attention that now I was naked that the original rules of the bet, especially Rule One, were unenforceable. “What to do?” was the unspoken question if we were to keep to our original scheme of me being the ultimate prize but not having any direct contact with the ‘gamblers’ until the final whistle. With the TV continuing to blare out the commentary Jake solved the dilemma when he said, “OK, new rule but same as before. When the whistle blows whichever side is the winner Mads will come and pull your shorts off.” There was an explosion of laughs at the preposterous suggestion but, significantly, no dissenters. So it was that each scrum, ruck, line-out, try, conversion was accompanied by me running from one horny bloke to the next. I didn’t care which side was the beneficiary, I was just in my element; my kind of heaven, when with each tug of someone’s shorts a stiff cock would be freed the sight of which would remind me what I might be enjoying after the stupid Rugby game was done.
And finally the whistle blew and everyone (including me) gave a cheer. I had no idea who had won given my attention throughout the game had been elsewhere but Jake (the only one still wearing his shorts albeit with a tented wet patch) stood in front of the TV and taking me by the hand to stand alongside him announced, “I’m thinking the game was too close to call. I reckon we call it a draw and all enjoy the top prize.”
I was delighted at the suggestion and the prospect of getting up close and personal to the lovely cocks that I had by one means or other *******. Our lounge was a slightly ridiculous and surreal scene; a bunch of blokes reclining in their chairs, some naked like myself, others just wearing their shirts but all sporting stiff erections. It got even stranger when Jake switched the TV channel and surfed through to our stored Porn collection and found one of my favourite videos. It was of a gangbang involving a bunch of blokes with a couple of women. As the movie began to play Jake said, “Something to wet your appetite.”
I went over to Charlie who had already stood up his cock standing proud. He put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me to my knees and I needed no invitation to take hold of my first black penis and guide it to my mouth. He held me close as he sat back down on the sofa and I began to suck and deep-throat him taking as much of his impressive tool as I could manage. As I bobbed up and down savouring my favourite candy I felt someone behind me and a hand slipped between my legs and began to massage my wet cunt. I had no idea who it might be – I didn’t care – and I let the intruder continue his exploration as the familiar feelings began to wash over me. Then I felt my legs being spread and without any introduction other than a shove my pussy was filled with a cock. I gasped as I felt it slip inside me and was soon aware that my violator was balls deep into me as I felt the touch of pubic hairs against my butt. Without pausing my attentions to Charlie I wriggled my ass to all the better feel the cock that was nicely slotted inside me. My unseen assailant took this as the signal to begin slowly fucking me and with each thrust of my doggy fucking friend I gave a small cry of pleasure. I didn’t know what to focus upon more, the attentions I was getting, the attentions I was giving, the blokes sitting around stiff cocks in hand, the video playing or, overseeing it all, Jake who still hadn’t taken off his stained shorts.
Charlie began to meet me each time I went down on him and I knew from the groans he was making that he was close to cumming. I began to suck harder and then he suddenly held my head and without asking he shot a stream of hot spunk down my throat. I jerked my head back in surprise and his cock flopped against his stomach still spewing his semen. As I watched him dribble out the last evidence of his orgasm I felt my lover thrust ever harder into my dripping pussy. Even though there was a chorus of encouragement from the voyeurs sat around we must have all heard the squelching sound that accompanied each thrust. Certainly we had no problem hearing the cry that suddenly filled the room as my violator climaxed and filled me with his hot white cum.
I got to my feet and with spunk dribbling down my chin and onto my heaving chest and another sticky mess oozing out of my gaping pussy I saw that it was Blake who had been my ravager.
I looked for the next candidate and chose James who was sitting nearby. He held out his arms and I sank into them as he gave me a passionate kiss. With our mouths still glued together he stood up and spun me around so that I took his place on the armchair. I lifted my legs over the arms of the chair and with my smooth bald pussy open beneath him he took his rigid cock and pushed it deep within my cunt which was still dribbling out the evidence of Blake. I squealed my approval as he began to steadily pump in and out and in next to no time I felt my first orgasm build. James was as fired up as me and my gasps and groans became the trigger to push him over the edge and I felt him pulse and then with a grunt he filled my pussy with my second load of cum.
He slowly withdrew and pushed himself to his feet his cock still impressively hard and still ‘attached’ to me by a string of spunk. As he staggered away the connection was broken and I was marked on my leg with my first trophy. I had no time to admire it because his place was straightaway taken by the other Black fellow – really must find out his name – and with no further introductions he grabbed my ankles and hoisted me to lie on my back. I glanced down to see what I was about to receive and almost had to protest for he was sporting the biggest cock I had ever seen. It really was truly a monster with a dark purple bulbous head dribbling a copious amount of pre-cum. From my angle I was unable to see its length but given his own difficulty to fully encircle the black shaft with his hand I knew I was about to be taken by something special. He placed the glistening head against my wet slit and rub it up and down a few times to spread our juices. He really needn’t have been so considerate for I was soaking inside and out but I really did enjoy the sensations that came over me when he rubbed against my clit.
The others murmured encouragements as they watched him lodge the head into my pussy I helped by spreading my lips apart and bit my lip as he slowly pushed the biggest cock I have ever had into the warm fold of my cunt. He paused and I had never felt so filled and looking down I could see he hadn’t even pushed it all in. “Oh my God, this can’t be happening,” I thought. But happening it was and I was amazed when after gathering breath for a few seconds he continued to feed this monster into me; I’m sure I could feel him touching the opening to my womb. He paused a few seconds more and then he began to withdraw .. but only a little bit before he pushed in slowly once more. I felt a sensation that was a mixture of intense pleasure mingled with just bearable pain. I chose to ignore the pain and concentrate on the pleasure and, oh boy, did it start to feel good as he pushed and probed with that big black tool. Very soon all discomfort was forgotten as I gratefully received the gift that just kept giving. I was being touched in places never before reached and it was glorious.
He was a gifted and gentle lover and knew just how to treat me. I gasped and sighed in sympathy with his rhythmic thrusting, eyes closed as I concentrated on the delightful sensations building up inside me. I felt a hand on my breast and I dreamily opened them and looked to see dear Jake one hand caressing my tit, the other stroking his cock. I turned my head and whether it was his intention or just the way we were positioned it only took me a second to open my mouth and for him to slip into my warm cavern and for me to suck in pace with the attention my pussy was receiving. Time stood still -or rather I paid it no attention - and I lay there luxuriating in being used in the most wanton fashion with a stiff cock in my mouth and a larger, just as stiff, cock in my sopping wet vagina. For a girl who likes cock I could not have been more satisfied.
And then just as if it couldn’t get any better, it did. First, as I felt my next orgasm begin to wash over me, Jake began to grunt and thrust further into my mouth. I sucked harder and swirled my tongue under the knob of his cock which resulted in the desired effect; a spurt and then pulse after pulse of his lovely cum being deposited in my mouth and down my throat. I tried to swallow what I could but as he withdrew a seemingly large amount followed his cock and dribbled over my chin. The next moment my Black invader without any warning gave a similar cry and I felt gush after continuous gush filling up my cunt with his spunk. That was all what was needed for me to tip over the edge and my climax hit like a train and consumed my whole body.
Jake stumbled back onto his heels his slick cock beginning to soften, my black lover slowly pulled out of my ravaged cunt and I swear as I look down to survey the ‘damage’ he was still spurting and dribbling his sperm from a cock that looked as if it still had plenty of mileage.
I looked around at the assembled company and everyone seemed to be in some kind of dreamlike state as they sat slumped on chairs or laid on the carpet. Nobody had bothered to get dressed and I smiled as I looked at different cocks in various states of arousal. Some still were impressively stiff ; others were suffering from the combined effects of too much fucking or wanking and, dare I say, too much beer and had the condition known as ‘brewer’s droop’; there were others somewhere in between but all seemed to have evidence of either their own or my juices smeared somewhere along the length.
I got my breath back and decided enough was enough. “Right you lot, it’s time to go. We’ve all had a lot of fun; everyone was a winner but now I’ve got things to do and I’m sure you have too so tidy yourselves up and scram.”
There was no protest and like perfect guests they all did as I said and one by one came and thanked me for giving them a very nice afternoon. To a man it was said with a knowing smirk!
The lounge was like a disaster zone. Beer cans, glasses, bottles, spilled food and some very questionable stains on the furniture. Jake was still naked, his cock dangling between his legs, swaying as he wandered about picking up the debris.
“Wow,” he said, “what an afternoon. That went better than I expected. Are you OK?”
I stood there in front of him dabbing at my tummy and pussy mound with a wad of tissues. My smile was answer enough. I nodded, “Come on you, you randy old sod, let’s get on and, yeah, I’m fine. Tell you what, why don’t we get this lot back to rights and then we can get up with another lot of cleaning up.” I pointed to my shaven pussy which was leaking globs of cum down my legs.
He didn’t need any further explanation of what I was referring to and we quickly finished straightening the room before going up to our bedroom. As we climbed the stairs he said, “There’s another game next weekend. Do you want me to set something up?”
******
Having said that, we don’t agree on everything – what married couple does? – and if there is one thing that drives me crazy is his passion for Sports and on a lesser scale his weakness for gambling (a toxic mix as I see it) and with us both having a stubborn streak to our nature there have been times when yet another game/match/contest/whatever has been promoted as being a ‘must watch’ that I have flipped in protest at having another afternoon dominated by some silly contest. Words have often been exchanged resulting in an impasse being reached and us both retreating to our corner and counting to ten (or more) until tempers have calmed down.
However, I am realistic enough to accept that I can’t always be having things my own way and maybe there has to be a bit of give and take. Which brings me to relate how I managed to accommodate both our interests and how it may have set a trend for the future.
It was a few weeks back when Jake announced that he was having few friends around to watch a game of Rugby; not just any old Rugby match but one that would define the future of our nation, apparently.
“It’s Australia versus England, for Chrissakes,” he said with his usual passion.
It could have been the local Women’s Institute against the Girl Guides for all I cared but it was clearly something that was special for him and so I relented and agreed that maybe he could invite his mates around to our house to see the game; such is the price to be paid for having a Sports subscription on cable. “.... but, you aren’t getting away scot free with having all your drinking pals around and me sitting there waiting hand and foot. I’m thinking there has to be something in it for me.”
Jake looked quizzical, “what do you mean?”
“Well, I’m thinking that this stupid game of yours has a few moments when you blokes get over-excited like when a goal is scored ... “
Jake quickly corrected me, “Rugby; it’s a try.”
“Whatever; a Try then. Well, I’m thinking that from what you said and who you are thinking of inviting that you have two distinct groups of supporters. There’s your boozy Australian mates and there’s the ex-pat UK lot who will surely be supporting the Poms.”
“Yeah, so what are you saying? Do you want me to invite them around or what?” he said with an increasingly puzzled look on his face.
“Right, here’s the deal, and you’re going to like this, you like sports; I like fucking different cocks. We are going to set up a list of rules and we then both get what we want.”
Jake’s puzzlement continued to be written over his face as I continued.
"Here’s what we are going to do – and you better check with your mates that they OK with this before you close the invite – I am going to be the prize for the bets that you will surely be having. I’ve been giving this some thought and I’m thinking the way to go is that there a set of rules that we will follow, such as:
Firstly, You men must stay dressed at all times until the end of game.
Secondly, I will dress just as I please. I’m thinking I’ll put just enough on so it can be a bit of a Strip Poker type of bet. I’m intending that I’ll end up naked if all goes to plan.
Third rule, I must sit on a ‘winner’s’ lap whenever his team scores a goal.
Jake interjected again, “Try”.
“Whatever, Let’s say up to a minute. If they do that conversion thing then maybe I’ll sit a bit longer. If there is a penalty or that thing when the ball is chucked in when they line-up facing each other ..”
“Line-out,” sighed Jake.
“Whatever, or the whistle blown and they do that Scrumming thing or whatever other reason, then the ‘winner’ has to undress me by taking off one item of my clothing then I have to change laps to whoever is the next winner. I am not allowed to move or touch then when I’m sitting there but they can do whatever they please.
“Now comes the best bit, at the final whistle the winning side gets me for a whole hour to do what they want with me.”
Jake looked at me open-mouthed but I could see I had caught his interest as his trouser front showed distinct signs of disturbance. “You’re crazy, how long did it take you to work that one out,” he said with a broad smile over his face.
“Never you mind; do we have a deal? You get to watch your stupid game and I’ll get to have a bit of fun. What’s not to like?”
“Well, it doesn’t sound like much of a bet to me but whatever makes you happy, OK, you’re on.”
*******
Saturday – the day of the match – came around and Jake had been in a high state of excitement all week. I wasn’t sure if his excitement was due to his anticipation of the Rugby game or in expectation of the ‘other game’, if you get my drift. He had spent the week sounding out suitable candidates who would be up for our planned afternoon and I was pleased to learn that Blake would be amongst our guests. The other half dozen blokes he had invited were a mix of Aussies and Brits. A couple of the Brits, he told me, were Black and apparently when he shared with them what was on the agenda they were almost as excited as him at the prospect.
We had decided that we would watch the game at our house rather than the other option of going to Jake’s local Rugby Club as we figured if things went according to our plan that the regular clientele at the Clubhouse might not be too enamoured with witnessing what we anticipated happening. Some people can be so sniffy!
I spent the morning being the dutiful wife and hostess and made sure the fridge was stocked with beers and that there were plenty of sacks of nibbles – crisps, peanuts and the like – on hand. Once I was satisfied that the catering department had been taken care of I retreated into our bedroom and shut myself away to prepare myself for the revels ahead.
First off I had myself a luxurious bath full of scented, sudsy bubbles. How I love that feeling of warm water immersing my body and to rock back and forth and let the water slosh and course over me. I opened my legs and I thrilled to the touch as the water flow seemingly attempted to peel open the lips of my pussy. My tits likewise felt the effect of the warm water as I moved and I smiled to see my nipples stiffen as they were lightly caressed by the tide. Mmm, lovely.
I decided that for a special treat I would let my ‘new friends’ have the joy of me sharing a smooth pussy so I reached over to the shelf and picked up Jake’s razor – he’d never know – and giving my pussy mound a covering of lather I carefully scraped all around and removed every trace of hair I could find. I lifted a leg and from top to ankle I did the same then repeated the search on the other. Satisfied I was baby-smooth all over I then rinsed off any remaining foam with the hand shower paying particular attention to my pussy and - mmm again – as I sprayed the jet over my clit. Then just to make sure everything was set I touched myself with outstretched fingers and shivered and sighed as they slipped in and around the warm folds and lips of my wet cunt.
Out of the bath and drying myself with a large fluffy towel I went to my closet to choose a suitable ensemble for the afternoon’s game. Mindful of my suggested ‘theme’ of strip poker I knew I had to pick an outfit that was both provocative but also had a few layers. “No point in just wearing a bikini,” I’m thinking, “that would be off in the first 5 minutes after the start and where’s the fun in that?!”
So it was that I found a matching set of lingerie which had lace-trimmed panties and a half-cup bra; a garter belt together with a pair of dark sheer stockings (Urrg, so uncomfortable, why do blokes find them such a turn-on? They ought to try wearing them for a while!); a nice low cut almost transparent white blouse which buttoned up the front and, finally, a short leather skirt which just about covered the top of my stockings. I laid them all out on the bed and reviewed my choice and counted up. “Let’s see now, that’s 1, 2 ,3 ... 9, if I count in a pair of shoes.” Then I had the bright idea of adding a tiny thong to the mix, “just to prolong the agony,” I thought.
With midday approaching I began the careful process of dressing and making myself presentable. Usually whenever we would be getting ready for a planned session of fun Jake would be sitting alongside like a patient dog with his cock straining inside his pants as he watched me go through my preparations. This time however he was otherwise occupied down at the club gathering up our invited guests so I just had to imagine he was there for me to tease.
As ever the first step was to smooth on my expensive Body Lotion the scent of which I know drives Jake wild. This was followed by stepping into the thong which once I had pulled it up almost disappeared other than the tiny triangle of fabric which just about covered my pussy lips. I then put on the French knickers and bra. I cupped my tits and looked at my reflection in the mirror, my areoles peeking above the lace trim of my bra, “God, already you’re looking hot, girl,” I said giving a pout.
I then carefully rolled the nylons up my newly shaven legs and snapped them to the fastenings of the garter belt before sitting down at my vanity to apply my make-up. Not too much mind, a little blusher, mascara and a subtle hint of eye-shadow, red lippy and I’m good to go once I’ve sprayed my favourite perfume in all the right places. I brushed my long hair until it shone and fell over my shoulders and the natural curls nicely draped over the top of my tits which by now were peaked with the stiff nipples that somehow always appear whenever I’m feeling horny!
I completed the ensemble with the white low cut blouse, my wrap-round leather skirt and finally a pair of sling back sandals. A final look in the mirror and I had it confirmed; I looked the complete slut.
It must have all of 10 minutes after I had come downstairs and was busying in the kitchen that I heard a car drawing up outside. It was Jake with Blake (our ‘special’ friend), Carl (the builder who had ‘shared’ me before) and another of his mates from the club; the ‘volunteers’ spectating the game. They bundled through the door and all of them, including Jake, did that jaw-dropping thing when they saw how I was dressed. “Oh my God ...,” his voice trailed off without completing the prayer.
I smiled and did a theatrical pirouette, “You like?” The stupid grins on their faces provided the answer. “Where are the others?” I asked.
Jake found his voice, “Oh, they’re following in James’s car. He had to go pick them up from their hotel.” James is the local UK rep for a British airline that flies into our city and Jake had met him through work and their shared love of Rugby. Sure enough, a quarter of an hour later the door bell rang and there was another quartet of Rugby fans waiting to get in, gagging for the game(s) to start. I was thrilled surveying them as they wandered in. James I knew, the other three were strangers but they were all gorgeous and, yes, two of them were Black which I hoped was going to turn out to be a first for me.
They all trooped into the lounge where Jake had repositioned our couches and chairs so that everyone could see the widescreen TV mounted on the wall. There was a scramble for seats but soon everyone had found a place and there followed a period of introductions and ‘nice to meet you’s, etc’. I found out that the Poms were, like James, engineers of James’ airline and they were on a stopover for a couple of days. Whatever.
As planned, we were two distinct sets of fans, us 5 Aussies (if you want to count me as a fan) and the 4 Brits who were going to be cheering for England. Everyone, apart from me, was dressed in shorts and Tees or, bless them, a team shirt. I showed no favour as I bustled around and made sure everyone had a drink ... and an eyeful of my tits or my ass as I bent down to hand the tinnys out. Jake handed out bowls of nibbles and then stood centre stage and explained once again the rules for the afternoon. He pointedly looked at me and said, “Remember Madonna, no touching until after the game is over.” The excitement was palpable and you could have cut the atmosphere with a knife!
Attention turned to the screen as the teams came out onto the pitch to form up and sing lustily through the national anthems as a prelude to tearing each other apart, or so I thought as I lusted myself at the sight of all those bulging thighs, neat bums and other manly features that caught my eye. I licked my lips and hoped I was showing no patriotic preference; a generosity I was going to demonstrate over the next few hours.
Australia won the toss, the whistle blew and the ball sailed up in the air to be caught by some opposing mate at the other end. He gathered it up and ran straight toward his rivals only to be caught and tumbled to the ground in a most forceful fashion. I held my breath thinking, Penalty, and the start of my own game but I was quickly advised this was not a foul but how the game was played. How disappointing. However, I didn’t have to wait long for as the game went back and forth ‘somebody’ did ‘something’ and a penalty was indeed awarded to Australia. A chorus of cheers went up as Blake held out his hand and pulled me over to sit on his lap. I settled myself down and deliberately keeping my hands still I thrilled as I felt the lump in his shorts press up against my ass. He looked into my eyes and gave me a pouty air kiss and proceeded to pick at the buttons of my blouse. Neither of us paid any attention to the action continuing on the screen, we were both focussed on the slow revelation of my tits nestled in my bra as he set about the task of undoing all the buttons and then peeling of my blouse. I could feel my pulse pumping in response to the naughtiness of being ******* in front of a bunch of relative strangers.
Our reverie was broken by the sound of the whistle and once again something had happened that caused one of our rules to be broken (don’t ask me what, I have not a clue what the game is all about other than one side getting the ball over the opposing team’s base line. At least I think that’s what it’s all about; everything else is a mystery.) I looked around and one of the Brits was holding out his hand signifying that England must have done something to their advantage. I left Blake and dutifully tripped over to the waiting lap. He reminded me his name was Paul and gave me a peck on the cheek. Again I had to force myself not to touch and I squirmed in mild frustration as he fiddled around my waist looking for the release on the belt of my skirt. I soon realised that he wasn’t being the complete innocent but was just trying to prolong his pleasure of having me so close. He dipped his head and nuzzled in between my cleavage as he held me around the waist. I felt his warm breath and then the touch of his tongue on my breast. It made me shiver and I struggled to keep my hands to myself.
I heard the whistle blow and a chorus went up followed by cries of, “Come on Mads, it’s Charlie’s turn.” I had no idea what had occurred in the game but clearly some transgression or event had triggered the ‘breaking’ of our rules. I slipped off Paul’s lap and spun around to see who answered to the name of Charlie. Oh Wow, it was one of the Black guys. He had a sly grin as he waited for me to go and join him and I didn’t hesitate to sit astride his legs and face him. He put his arms around me and I felt his warm hands trace across my back as he sought the clasp of my bra. Like Paul he took his time and pulled me against him so that my breasts were squashed against his chest. The clasp was released and a cheer went up from everyone as he gently pushed me away and my tits were ******* for all to see. I looked around and saw that everyone’s attention was on me and the game seemed to be temporarily forgotten. I felt myself beginning to moisten between my legs and thought maybe Rugby isn’t such a boring game after all!
Again the whistle and a shout went up, “Penalty.” Apparently one of the Brit players had done something unkind to one of our sweet lads and was about to be penalised. “Great job,” I thought as I transferred my attention to another lap. This time it was Carl and he was taking our game to a new level for he had pulled his shorts down to reveal the lovely cock I had enjoyed a few weeks ago. I sat down and stared at this lovely object as it poked up between my thighs and itching to wrap my hands around the object of my desire. He reached and undid the snaps holding my stockings and one after the other slowly rolled them down and pulled them off my feet. (I had already abandoned my sandals somewhere between laps.) He then took hold of my hand and placed it on his cock. Someone protested, “Hey, that’s not allowed; she not supposed to move.”
Carl responded, “She didn’t move; I moved her. It doesn’t count!” I joined in the laughter and as our eyes met knowing what was to come after the game was over I gave him a squeeze.
And so it continued; the whistle would blow, an assessment of the ‘foul’ was agreed by the armchair critics and I would be directed to go and sit on another lap to be fondled or otherwise by the lucky winner. Half time was called and I was reduced to wearing just my knickers and the hidden thong. Jake who had won the last bet decided that he would forego me stripping off anything but rather that I would be the halftime entertainment. He told me that as his reward for winning the bet the performance would be I had to go to each guest in turn, take their drink order and when I served it I had to hold the can or glass in both hands and lean forward and let them kiss and suck on my tits. I affected a mock look of horror and disgust at such an idea but my body language gave me away and I eagerly complied for the next 15 minutes feeling the most delicious sensations as hands, lips and tongues applied themselves to my stiff nipples. My hands were full of drinks so that I couldn’t do any touching myself; Jake’s hands were full of his cock which he was stroking through the pocket of his shorts.
The second half kicked off and I swear my panties were sodden already such was the excitement I was feeling having been touched up and caressed by so many different pairs of hands and all in the approving presence of my husband. I so much wanted to return the favours I was receiving but our rules said otherwise. “Still,” I thought to myself, “only 40 minutes to go and then ....”
The game continued and the excitement mounted for all manner of reasons. Another foul caused the referee to blow and it was the other Black guy’s turn to disrobe me. (I never did remember his name!) I sashayed over to him with a broad grin on my face and stood in front of him with my legs slightly apart. He reached for my waist and to the encouragements from everyone else (who, to a man, had turned away from the TV to look at me) he hooked his thumbs in the waistband and slid the silky knickers down to reveal my thong-covered cunt. I giggled as a collective groan went up at the realisation that my pussy still hadn’t been revealed .... but I didn’t fail to notice that some of the groaners were stroking their cocks through the fabric of their shorts.
10 minutes into the second half and a yell went up as a Try was scored – patriotism prevents me from saying who – and once again all attention was on me as James held out his hand (damn, now you know who scored). I adopted the persona of a shy virgin and head lowered shuffled over to him. He ordered me to turn around so that he could admire my rounded bottom and the other’s could get a good view of the ‘unveiling’. He delicately took hold of the thin ribbons of the thong and slowly pulled it down. My juices which had been flowing for some time had caused the small triangle of silk to stick to my pussy and I shivered as I felt it unpeel as James continued to slowly draw it down over my legs. I looked at my audience and their reaction was all I could have wished; they could have been dogs slavering over a juicy bone such was the sense of lust written across their faces.
“Look what we’ve got here,” he said holding me by the waist and slowly turning me around to display my total nakedness to the others just as if he was a Slave-master showing off his latest purchase. I played my part by keeping my eyes downcast and held my hands across my breasts trying to preserve my modesty. It was a charade that didn’t last long for I burst into a fit of nervous giggles before I had made even one rotation. With a “Ta Da” I flung my arms wide and placed my feet apart so that nothing was hidden from view. The game was forgotten as without any assistance from James I continued to turn around so everyone could have an uninterrupted look at my smooth hairless body. Most had already had a good look (and feel) of my tits but none had seen my ******* pussy and the effect was clear to see. Everywhere I looked were bulging shorts or, for the more blatant, stiff cocks which had already been freed from the confines of clothing. God, how that sight made me even wetter and my pussy seeped more of my juices to coat the top of my legs.
The game still had 30 minutes to run and it hadn’t missed anyone’s attention that now I was naked that the original rules of the bet, especially Rule One, were unenforceable. “What to do?” was the unspoken question if we were to keep to our original scheme of me being the ultimate prize but not having any direct contact with the ‘gamblers’ until the final whistle. With the TV continuing to blare out the commentary Jake solved the dilemma when he said, “OK, new rule but same as before. When the whistle blows whichever side is the winner Mads will come and pull your shorts off.” There was an explosion of laughs at the preposterous suggestion but, significantly, no dissenters. So it was that each scrum, ruck, line-out, try, conversion was accompanied by me running from one horny bloke to the next. I didn’t care which side was the beneficiary, I was just in my element; my kind of heaven, when with each tug of someone’s shorts a stiff cock would be freed the sight of which would remind me what I might be enjoying after the stupid Rugby game was done.
And finally the whistle blew and everyone (including me) gave a cheer. I had no idea who had won given my attention throughout the game had been elsewhere but Jake (the only one still wearing his shorts albeit with a tented wet patch) stood in front of the TV and taking me by the hand to stand alongside him announced, “I’m thinking the game was too close to call. I reckon we call it a draw and all enjoy the top prize.”
I was delighted at the suggestion and the prospect of getting up close and personal to the lovely cocks that I had by one means or other *******. Our lounge was a slightly ridiculous and surreal scene; a bunch of blokes reclining in their chairs, some naked like myself, others just wearing their shirts but all sporting stiff erections. It got even stranger when Jake switched the TV channel and surfed through to our stored Porn collection and found one of my favourite videos. It was of a gangbang involving a bunch of blokes with a couple of women. As the movie began to play Jake said, “Something to wet your appetite.”
I went over to Charlie who had already stood up his cock standing proud. He put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me to my knees and I needed no invitation to take hold of my first black penis and guide it to my mouth. He held me close as he sat back down on the sofa and I began to suck and deep-throat him taking as much of his impressive tool as I could manage. As I bobbed up and down savouring my favourite candy I felt someone behind me and a hand slipped between my legs and began to massage my wet cunt. I had no idea who it might be – I didn’t care – and I let the intruder continue his exploration as the familiar feelings began to wash over me. Then I felt my legs being spread and without any introduction other than a shove my pussy was filled with a cock. I gasped as I felt it slip inside me and was soon aware that my violator was balls deep into me as I felt the touch of pubic hairs against my butt. Without pausing my attentions to Charlie I wriggled my ass to all the better feel the cock that was nicely slotted inside me. My unseen assailant took this as the signal to begin slowly fucking me and with each thrust of my doggy fucking friend I gave a small cry of pleasure. I didn’t know what to focus upon more, the attentions I was getting, the attentions I was giving, the blokes sitting around stiff cocks in hand, the video playing or, overseeing it all, Jake who still hadn’t taken off his stained shorts.
Charlie began to meet me each time I went down on him and I knew from the groans he was making that he was close to cumming. I began to suck harder and then he suddenly held my head and without asking he shot a stream of hot spunk down my throat. I jerked my head back in surprise and his cock flopped against his stomach still spewing his semen. As I watched him dribble out the last evidence of his orgasm I felt my lover thrust ever harder into my dripping pussy. Even though there was a chorus of encouragement from the voyeurs sat around we must have all heard the squelching sound that accompanied each thrust. Certainly we had no problem hearing the cry that suddenly filled the room as my violator climaxed and filled me with his hot white cum.
I got to my feet and with spunk dribbling down my chin and onto my heaving chest and another sticky mess oozing out of my gaping pussy I saw that it was Blake who had been my ravager.
I looked for the next candidate and chose James who was sitting nearby. He held out his arms and I sank into them as he gave me a passionate kiss. With our mouths still glued together he stood up and spun me around so that I took his place on the armchair. I lifted my legs over the arms of the chair and with my smooth bald pussy open beneath him he took his rigid cock and pushed it deep within my cunt which was still dribbling out the evidence of Blake. I squealed my approval as he began to steadily pump in and out and in next to no time I felt my first orgasm build. James was as fired up as me and my gasps and groans became the trigger to push him over the edge and I felt him pulse and then with a grunt he filled my pussy with my second load of cum.
He slowly withdrew and pushed himself to his feet his cock still impressively hard and still ‘attached’ to me by a string of spunk. As he staggered away the connection was broken and I was marked on my leg with my first trophy. I had no time to admire it because his place was straightaway taken by the other Black fellow – really must find out his name – and with no further introductions he grabbed my ankles and hoisted me to lie on my back. I glanced down to see what I was about to receive and almost had to protest for he was sporting the biggest cock I had ever seen. It really was truly a monster with a dark purple bulbous head dribbling a copious amount of pre-cum. From my angle I was unable to see its length but given his own difficulty to fully encircle the black shaft with his hand I knew I was about to be taken by something special. He placed the glistening head against my wet slit and rub it up and down a few times to spread our juices. He really needn’t have been so considerate for I was soaking inside and out but I really did enjoy the sensations that came over me when he rubbed against my clit.
The others murmured encouragements as they watched him lodge the head into my pussy I helped by spreading my lips apart and bit my lip as he slowly pushed the biggest cock I have ever had into the warm fold of my cunt. He paused and I had never felt so filled and looking down I could see he hadn’t even pushed it all in. “Oh my God, this can’t be happening,” I thought. But happening it was and I was amazed when after gathering breath for a few seconds he continued to feed this monster into me; I’m sure I could feel him touching the opening to my womb. He paused a few seconds more and then he began to withdraw .. but only a little bit before he pushed in slowly once more. I felt a sensation that was a mixture of intense pleasure mingled with just bearable pain. I chose to ignore the pain and concentrate on the pleasure and, oh boy, did it start to feel good as he pushed and probed with that big black tool. Very soon all discomfort was forgotten as I gratefully received the gift that just kept giving. I was being touched in places never before reached and it was glorious.
He was a gifted and gentle lover and knew just how to treat me. I gasped and sighed in sympathy with his rhythmic thrusting, eyes closed as I concentrated on the delightful sensations building up inside me. I felt a hand on my breast and I dreamily opened them and looked to see dear Jake one hand caressing my tit, the other stroking his cock. I turned my head and whether it was his intention or just the way we were positioned it only took me a second to open my mouth and for him to slip into my warm cavern and for me to suck in pace with the attention my pussy was receiving. Time stood still -or rather I paid it no attention - and I lay there luxuriating in being used in the most wanton fashion with a stiff cock in my mouth and a larger, just as stiff, cock in my sopping wet vagina. For a girl who likes cock I could not have been more satisfied.
And then just as if it couldn’t get any better, it did. First, as I felt my next orgasm begin to wash over me, Jake began to grunt and thrust further into my mouth. I sucked harder and swirled my tongue under the knob of his cock which resulted in the desired effect; a spurt and then pulse after pulse of his lovely cum being deposited in my mouth and down my throat. I tried to swallow what I could but as he withdrew a seemingly large amount followed his cock and dribbled over my chin. The next moment my Black invader without any warning gave a similar cry and I felt gush after continuous gush filling up my cunt with his spunk. That was all what was needed for me to tip over the edge and my climax hit like a train and consumed my whole body.
Jake stumbled back onto his heels his slick cock beginning to soften, my black lover slowly pulled out of my ravaged cunt and I swear as I look down to survey the ‘damage’ he was still spurting and dribbling his sperm from a cock that looked as if it still had plenty of mileage.
I looked around at the assembled company and everyone seemed to be in some kind of dreamlike state as they sat slumped on chairs or laid on the carpet. Nobody had bothered to get dressed and I smiled as I looked at different cocks in various states of arousal. Some still were impressively stiff ; others were suffering from the combined effects of too much fucking or wanking and, dare I say, too much beer and had the condition known as ‘brewer’s droop’; there were others somewhere in between but all seemed to have evidence of either their own or my juices smeared somewhere along the length.
I got my breath back and decided enough was enough. “Right you lot, it’s time to go. We’ve all had a lot of fun; everyone was a winner but now I’ve got things to do and I’m sure you have too so tidy yourselves up and scram.”
There was no protest and like perfect guests they all did as I said and one by one came and thanked me for giving them a very nice afternoon. To a man it was said with a knowing smirk!
The lounge was like a disaster zone. Beer cans, glasses, bottles, spilled food and some very questionable stains on the furniture. Jake was still naked, his cock dangling between his legs, swaying as he wandered about picking up the debris.
“Wow,” he said, “what an afternoon. That went better than I expected. Are you OK?”
I stood there in front of him dabbing at my tummy and pussy mound with a wad of tissues. My smile was answer enough. I nodded, “Come on you, you randy old sod, let’s get on and, yeah, I’m fine. Tell you what, why don’t we get this lot back to rights and then we can get up with another lot of cleaning up.” I pointed to my shaven pussy which was leaking globs of cum down my legs.
He didn’t need any further explanation of what I was referring to and we quickly finished straightening the room before going up to our bedroom. As we climbed the stairs he said, “There’s another game next weekend. Do you want me to set something up?”
******
