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From: M&M Screwloose <screwloose2@my-deja.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Convention Town Girl, pt 2 (MMMF wife) <*>
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If you are under 18 or offended by sexually oriented material,
stop right here. Do not read the rest of this message.
WARNING: Sexually Oriented Material Follows. Adults only.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Convention Town Girl
By Ms. Screwloose
Part 2 (MMMF wife, fictionalized, but only slightly)
The next time I saw Stan was at the company's Christmas
party at Tom's office. This is a big shindig, with all the
major clients invited. Stan, of course, was on the list,
and was in fine form that night. He was delighted to see
me, naturally, and spend a lot of time with Tommy and me.
As I suspected he might, he touched me a lot. His hands
were on my arm, my waist, my back, sometimes on my butt
below the waist. But he was discreet and didn't do
anything unusual in front of other people in the company.
Tommy noticed, and he encouraged it again. Of course he
would. He was using me to cement an important business
contact, and it turned him on no end to be reminded that
Stan had got into his wife's pussy, even though he thought
it was only with fingers.
At one point, Stan steered me into an office that was empty
and dark, and he was all over me. I resisted a little, but
I didn't want to make a fuss. Any scene here would be a
disaster. At the casino, Stan and I were anonymous. Here,
I'm the wife of a partner, and he's an important client.
So I can't really make any noise or run out of the room
suddenly. He took my indecision for acquiescence and
really turned it on. He kissed me hard and held me hard,
and felt my breasts, and got under my dress to the bare
skin above my stockings. I had worn stockings that night
because Tommy asked me to, and it made me feel sexy. I
didn't realize how much more vulnerable I would be to other
advances because of them. But here I was, in a dark room,
Stan's hand cupping my crotch, his fingers kneading into
the lips of my pussy. And I was getting wet, too. As much
as I didn't want this, I did want it. I stopped struggling
and let him get his hand into my panties and a couple
fingers inside me. I jerked my hips, almost involuntarily,
to get his penetrating fingers deeper inside me. Betraying
any good judgment I had left, I pushed my cunt down on his
hand, fucking his hand, and moaned my delight into his
kiss.
After a couple minutes, he pulled out and licked his
fingers. "I love your juice, but we can't stay away from
the party too long. Later." And he left. I waited a
minute, straightening out my clothes, and then left the
office. When I got to the ladies room, I noticed that I
was still a bit rumpled. I hoped no one else noticed.
Tom did notice that I was missing for a while, and that I
was not completely fresh looking, and wanted to know if I
was feeling okay. I told him that Stan had come back for
some more play, but much more aggressively than before.
Tommy was mainly concerned about appearances, rather than
what Stan might do with my body. "Be careful not to let
anyone see anything. We can't afford a scene, or even a
rumor."
Stan found us then, and introduced me to his VP of
marketing, Ken, a younger guy about Tom's age, and very
cute. The four of us were off in a corner, so no one else
could really see what was going on. Stan decided to play
some more. He put his hand right on my ass while talking
to Ken, who was on the other side of me. I shivered and
shuffled my feet nervously. Then he went further. He
pulled my skirt up in back and wormed his hand between my
legs, right up against my panties. Jesus, what is he
doing? I could hardly slap him or remove his hand without
being noticed. I couldn't even just walk away because my
skirt was up so far in back. No one could see my
predicament except Stan on my left, Ken on my right, and
Tommy standing right in front of me. He couldn't see
exactly where Stan's hand was, but is was clear it was
under my skirt and on my butt.
To make matters worse, Ken took this as an invitation and
felt my other thigh, up to the top of the stocking and
above, until his hand met Stan's. I just met this man ten
minutes ago, and he takes these liberties. Had Stan told
him that I was available as a sex toy for clients? Does
the company president pass off his sex toy as a perq for
his favorite VP?
Tom knows that something is up. I down my drink and swap
for his, which is full. I look at him uncomfortably, he
knows I don't want to do this but I can't find a way out.
His eyes plead with me not to do anything that might upset
these gentlemen. I remembered the conversation in the
casino bar the first night Stan came on to me.
"Do you want him to feel me up?"
"If he wants to, well, yes, I want him to be able to do
that."
"You want me to *let* him feel me up?"
"Yes, sure. I don't want to make a big deal over it."
"All over? You want him to touch me anywhere?"
"Sure, let him. Touchy-feely anything."
The last time, he left before the touching had gone beyond
a hand on the knee. Well, this time, he was going to see
what that really entailed. They were really going to feel
me all over, and I couldn't do a damned thing about it at
this party without ruining my husband's career. And our
fancy lifestyle.
Ken asked me to dance. I thought that I would be getting
away from most of the groping, so I agreed. Boy, was I
wrong. He slipped his hand up onto my breast while we
danced. When I didn't slap him for that, the hand went
under my skirt. And he was not as careful as Stan. I was
afraid that someone would see. He danced me off into the
darkest corner of the room, out the door into the hall, and
into another empty office. Tom and Stan were both watching
as we slipped into that dark office and closed the door.
Once inside, Ken became very aggressive and insistent. I
had had enough to drink that my struggles were ineffective,
and at that point, I didn't much care anymore. He took my
dress off, and my bra, and, while kissing me all over, my
panties, my last line of defense, not that they were very
substantial. Small, wispy, lacy, mostly transparent. He
pocketed them, as a trophy, of course. He pushed me back
onto the sofa, lay down between my legs, got inside me, and
fucked me for four or five minutes. I almost didn't care.
He zipped up and left, just like that. I hunted around for
my clothes, and I found my dress, which wasn't too badly
wrinkled, but my bra was gone. I guess he took it as
another trophy. Either that, or someone in that office
will get quite a surprise on Monday morning. So now all I
had was a slightly mussed dress and stockings. No panties
and no bra for the rest of the party. I was sure that some
of the women at the party would notice.
I found Tom, but he was still with Stan. Stan gave him an
"I'd like to dance with your wife, too, wink, wink"
brushoff, and Tom didn't have time to step in to object,
even if he had wanted to. Don't make waves, right?
He danced me back into the same empty office, and started
to make out with me. He was incredibly excited when he
found that my breasts were loose, not constrained by any
bra. He kissed them, and I loved it. He really does that
well. Then he was delighted when he found that I had no
panties, either. He put his fingers into me, gently, then
roughly, then gently, and thumbed my clit until I started
fucking his hand again. With my cunt. Yes, I had a cunt
again, hot and yearning to be filled. I came and came,
screaming my pleasure into his mouth as he kissed me hard.
No one else heard, I think.
When he lay down on the sofa, I knew what he wanted. I
lowered my hot, wet cunt onto his cock again, and pumped
him slow and fast and slow and fast, teasing and pleasing,
until he came hard. I felt the pulsing and the flooding of
my insides. I got off him, ran my fingers through my hair,
straightened the dress a little, and left to find my
husband.
As we got onto the elevator to leave, the cum of two men
started to leak out of my honey pot and down my leg. It
tickled. And it shamed me. Tommy didn't notice it until
we were at the car and I had to wipe some off that had
trickled below my knee. "Omigod! Is that. . . ?"
I grabbed his lapel and pulled his face to mine. "Yes,
Tommy. You wanted me to be nice to your clients. Well, I
was. You saw that. You saw their hands all over my body.
You saw them reaching under my clothes to touch me. And
you wanted them to. And you wanted me to let them do it.
And even to enjoy it, you bastard.
"Stan's cum is running out of me and down my leg. Ken's
cum is there, too. They both fucked me tonight and left
their loads inside me. You wanted them to, didn't you?
You wanted me to let them feel me everywhere and put their
fingers and fuckhoses inside me, didn't you? I think you
ought to clean it up, since I was so nice to your clients."
He almost threw me in the back seat of the car. He climbed
in on top of me, pulled up my dress, and licked my legs
clean. He ended between my legs, and licked that clean,
too. I came again, screaming in the garage. It echoed all
over. I'm sure that anyone else in the garage knew exactly
what was going on. Did we have an audience?
But that was okay, because this time it was with my
husband. And even old married couples are allowed to be a
little frisky around the holidays.
That night we talked about what happened. And the next
day, and the next. This opening up, this freedom, this
sex-play with other men, this became the most exciting
thing that either of us had ever done.
Sent via Deja.com http://www.deja.com/
Before you buy.
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