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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of o
o stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the o
o world. Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no o
o particular order other than offering them to you in alpha- o
o betical directories. o
o I don't believe in categorizing things. "I don't want to o
o be typed therefore I don't type things myself." I think it's o
o a lot more fun to browse around and find 'little' surprises o
o that you might not have even thought of looking for. o
o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult en- o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors. o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Kristi Goes Mexican - 2 (MMF, wife)
Anon NixPixer (c) 1994
*
Phillip waited nervously. When he got home Friday night
he expected to find me, but instead found only my note.
Phillip,
Sorry I couldn't be home when you got there.
I've had a very hectic day getting ready for
the weekend, and decided I needed a few more
things. I want you to take a bath. After
you finish, go to my jewelry box and you will
find another note. Do not open it until after
your bath. Do not put clothes on after you
bathe until you read the second note. I will
know if you have done what you were told. If
you follow my orders, I promise you a night you
will always remember. If you do not follow my
instructions to the letter, the whole deal is
off! Remember, I am in charge!
Your loving wife,
Kristi
No doubt he thought this was a strange message, but he's
used to me doing strange things. I knew he was in the habit
of taking a shower when he came home from work anyway. He
must have decided to go along with the game, for a little
while at least. He went upstairs and started his shower.
What he didn't know was that I was in the house, waiting
to see if he'd follow my orders! He'd promised me that I
could be in charge of the weekend's festivities, and now I
was going to see if he'd meant what he said. The proof would
be whether or not he was naked when he opened my jewelry box.
Just thinking of him made me hot! I thought about him
in the shower, water running down his back, down his legs,
some of it running into the crack of his ass, some of it
running down the length of his shaft. His shaft! I knew it
was probably hard right this minute. I knew he'd soap it up,
run his hand up and down its hardness, twisting it back and
forth as he jerked it back and forth! For just a moment I
thought about getting in the shower with him, falling to my
knees and sucking his hard dick into my mouth as the shower
spray pelted my face. I could taste his salty cum as it
would splatter against the back of my mouth, and slide down
my throat, followed by yet another blast and then another!
I loved to suck his cock. Well, actually, I love to suck any
one's cock, but especially his. My mind wandered back to a
party we'd attended last weekend. I remembered Peter Jenson,
and most especially I remembered Pete Jenson's hard cock!
I'd been talking to Pete Jenson, enjoying the delicate
pleasures of good conversation. Pete's a friend of my
husband. They worked together years ago when both were
starting out in business. They'd remained friends for all
the years following. Pete likes me. I mean, he likes me a
lot! He'd fuck me in a heartbeat if he wasn't married to the
mother of all bitches, Harriet. Harriet is a woman upon
which a pussy had been wasted. As far as Pete's concerned,
it could just as well have been sewed shut years ago.
Harriet has one thing going for her, one thing that made her
a wife worth keeping. She's worth a little better than $10
million dollars, and she holds the mortgage to Pete's
business. It was for that reason, more than any other, that
Pete stays faithful to his wife. I guess I should say,
"stayed" faithful, because after last Friday, I don't think
he still falls into that category.
You see, I wanted to fuck Pete. I knew I'd have an
uphill fight, and that the efforts probably wouldn't have
been worth my trouble except for one thing. Phillip has told
me about Pete's cock. They showered together after a round
of golf at the club, and Phillip told me the man could use
his cock for a golf club! Last Friday, after what I did, I
would have gladly been his caddy.
It really wasn't planned. Not at first. At first I was
just talking to him, about business, about Harriet, and about
life in general. Then the conversation turned to sex, (it
always seems to when men and I talk) and he confided that
he'd not had sex in better than a year! At first I thought
he'd been joking, or trying to play on my sympathies, but the
more he spoke, the more I believed the man. A year! Harriet
had decided the two of them would be celibate, and to that
end, she cut out all sexual relations between them. He was
becoming a basket case. I asked him why he didn't get some
from another source. "After all, Pete, damn near every
woman's got a pussy, and most would share some with a sweet
guy like you."
I really had embarrassed him with that statement. He
wasn't used to a woman using that type of language, and I
guess I shouldn't have said it. But a year? Pete explained
to me that he'd never been unfaithful, and his intentions
were to remain so. He didn't want to risk losing his wife
over a quick piece of ass. Besides, he could always
masturbate, he said, and did quite often. But he added that
lately, there wasn't much pleasure in even that. I knew
right away what his problem was. A man has to have something
to fantasize about if he's going to pull the pud. I decided
then and there that I would give him the inspiration he
needed, if ever the opportunity arose.
And it arose fifteen minutes later. Pete excused
himself. He had to find the little boys room, he said. I
told him I knew where it was, and I'd take him there. He
declined at first, and just asked where it was.
"Nonsense," I replied, "Let me show you. You'll never
find it by yourself, and besides, I don't want you to piss in
the linen closet!"
Taking this shy guy by the hand, I led him upstairs to
the master bathroom. He thanked me and turned to go in. I
waited outside as he closed the bathroom door. I didn't hear
it lock! I waited close by the door, waiting to hear the
sound of pissing, waiting to know if he was really in there
doing what he said he was going to do. I heard noises, all
right, but they weren't bathroom noises. At least not the
kind most people make. No, these were noises of pleasure. I
slowly turned the door knob. I was right! He hadn't locked
the door. As I pushed the door open, I caught sight of
Pete's back as I saw his reflection in the mirror. I knew
from the position of the back that he couldn't see the door
open. Finally, it was open half-way, and I knew what he was
doing. Pete Jenson was jerking off! I could tell by the way
he was hunched over the counter that he was whacking the
bishop for all he was worth. (I'd just learned that phrase a
few days earlier, and have liked it ever since!) I must have
let out an involuntary gasp, because suddenly Pete whirled
around and faced me, his hard cock still in his hand.
Actually, in fairness, I should say his hard cock was
partially in his hand. That boy was holding more hard meat
in one hand than I'd seen at my last three swing parties
combined! I am sure it must have been at least 15" long, and
big around as my arm. No wonder Harriet became celibate.
That thing could kill a normal woman. (but what a way to
die) Pete just stared at me, sorta like a wounded animal.
He was trapped, and he knew it. I guess he was worried that
I would say something to some of the other guests at the
party. I guess he thought I wouldn't be able to keep what I
saw private.
He was wrong. I wanted to keep that thing of his very
private. I mean, if Harriet didn't want it, I sure as fuck
did. When Pete didn't say anything, I stepped into the bath
room and closed the door behind me.
"Please," he started, "I'm sorry you saw this. It's
just that talking to you got me so hot, and I needed to
relieve this...this...thing."
"Pete, Pete! It's okay baby. I'm not mad or shocked.
I just want to help you with it, that's all." I started to
walk toward his giant prick, but he stopped me.
"You can help, but you can't touch it. I was serious
when I said I'd never be unfaithful to Harriet. But you can
help."
"How?"
"Just stand there. And watch." His words had a plea in
them that I could not ignore. Of course, I'd stay and watch!
In fact, a message from the president couldn't have gotten me
to leave at that moment. Presently, Pete began to jerk on
his cock again. He used long, twisting motions while at the
same time pulling his dick back and forth, increasing the
speed as time went by. I leaned against the sink and
watched, utterly fascinated as this shy fellow continued to
jack off in front of me. I wanted that cock worse than any
I'd seen in years. I started toward him again. And again
his only reply was, "No. Stay there. I need to come so bad,
and I'm thinking of you while I'm doing this."
I relaxed again against the sink. The mirrors were
floor to ceiling on the side facing me. And watching Pete
continue to pull his cock was making me hornier and hotter
each moment. I had to do something. Reaching down to the
hem of my skirt, I lifted it slowly up to my waist. I know
this show must have affected Pete. His tempo was picking up
speed, his eyes were glued to the figure standing in front of
him. He took in my long legs, my slender thighs, my garter
belt holding up the silk stockings Phillip liked so much.
His eyes continued to travel upward, upward to my closely
shaven cunt which was framed by the belts off the garter. I
was wearing no underwear, save the garters and stockings. My
finger started to flick across my clit, and my wet steamy
cunt was already starting to take on a life of its own. I
put first one finger, then a second, and then a third into my
own pussy. I started to move my hand to the same tempo Pete
was moving his.
I opened the top of my dress. My naked breasts became
visible to Pete. I took my right hand out of my cunt and
smeared pussy juice on my left nipple. It was already hard
as a rock, and now it glistened as the juice from my cunt
gave it a sheen. Pete was pumping his dick harder now. It
seemed to have gotten larger in the process. My dress was
open all the way down to my waist, and the skirt was tucked
into the waistband. I was losing control, lost to my
passions and my obsessions. And I wanted that monster cock
in me. In my mouth or in my pussy. Or in my ass if that was
the only place I could get it.
Phillip always tells me that a hard dick has no
scruples. I counted on that being true. I slowly crossed
the three feet of empty space that separated me from the
biggest dick I'd ever seen. This time Pete didn't tell me
no. This time, he just looked at my exposed body and
continued to pump his rock hard cock with the dedication of a
jack hammer breaking through concrete. I slowly lowered
myself to a knelling position in front of his hand held cock.
It seemed even bigger just inches from my face, just inches
from my mouth! I leaned forward. It was now or never. My
breath was warming the end of his cock. Slowly, almost
without motion, he brought his dick to meet my moist, open
lips. I don't know if I leaned into it, or if it slid into
me, but within micro seconds, his cock was in my mouth,
filling my cheeks to capacity. I couldn't suck it in, I
could only allow it to force its way between my jaws.
It was so big, I couldn't get the whole head in! I
sucked at what I could, flicking my tongue around whatever
space it left me in my mouth. Pulling my lips off the cock
head, I opted to lick the long under shaft. He had not
stopped his incessant hand movements, the jacking, the
twisting, the distorting constantly of shape and color! My
lips and tongue reached the base of his cock. I licked under
the base, licked his ball sack, kissed the hairy wrinkled bag
of balls. I wanted more! I wanted to shove my tongue
between his legs, to lick the rim of his ass, to plunge my
hot, pink tongue inside his ass hole. He must have felt my
urgency. He squatted down a little and spread his legs. I
was on the floor, my head disappearing behind him, my tongue
licking his ass cheeks, and now, as he opened his legs wider,
I scooted under and up. I found his ass hole. As I pushed
my tongue inside, tasting the bitter taste of his ass, my
hand snaked around to the front of his thighs, my nails
brushing his hairy legs, reaching higher and higher until my
hand found the treasure I wanted so badly to fuck!
I had my hand on his cock, helping him jerk. The back
of his legs were rubbing against my breasts, my nipples
already committed to a degree of hardness I'd never
remembered before. I have done some tawdry things, fucked
some rough guys in rough places, but nothing like this had
ever gotten to me before. I was sitting on a bathroom floor,
my body open and exposed, my head buried in this man's ass,
while my hand was entwined through his legs and around his
cock, and I couldn't have cared who saw me.
And almost like an answered passion, the bathroom door
opened, and there stood my husband! I stopped for a moment,
when I heard the door open. I looked down, between Pete's
legs, and saw Phillip standing there. I smiled at him and
continued my licking, jacking, biting actions. I opened my
legs wider still, giving my husband a clear view of my wet
pussy. I wanted a dick there, and I guess my exposing it to
Phillip was my way of asking him to help me. But then, it
happened. Pete let out a grunt more primitive than any I'd
heard before, and suddenly his massive dick was pouring out
cum, not by the squirt, or the teaspoon, but by the quart! I
was not prepared for the quantity of come that flowed from
his giant dick! It was the equivalent of having an entire
cocktail poured on your face.
As quickly as his passions had built, his cock went soft
in my hand. Suddenly I was able to judge the full heft of
this giant cock, as the strength it possessed waned, and it
became dead body weight. And it was sooooo heavy! I wiggled
out from under him. He was as close to a catatonic state as
I'd ever seen a man. There was no doubt he'd enjoyed what
had transpired. He was exhausted from his efforts. And
mine.
Phillip watched as I stood up. I wanted to lick the
come off my hands and arms, but there was just too much of
it. I did the next best thing. I licked my fingers clean,
and then turned on the faucet to wash the rest away. After
my hands and arms were clear of semen, I started to button my
dress, only to find the front of it was coated with his come.
Unbeknownst to me, Pete had shot a few good squirts on my
dress! I was a mess. Phillip seemed to enjoy this whole
scene immensely. He stood there at the entrance of the bath
room, and watched as his wife tried to clean the come of
another man off her dress.
"Close the door, please," I asked him.
"Why?" he asked back.
"For privacy!"
"You don't need privacy, bitch. You need an audience!"
And then he smiled.
I was thinking about this story while I stood downstairs
and listened to Phillip's shower run. I would have liked to
have gone upstairs and gotten into the shower with my
husband. I would have liked to have gotten on my knees in
front of his cock, and would have liked to have recreated the
scene in the bathroom with Pete. But that would have spoiled
the evening, and I have such great plans for Phillip. For
Phillip and Phillip's cock!
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