Let me establish something. I'm a little debauched.
O.K., a lot debauched. And damned lucky.
Fate blessed me with a beautiful, tall, brunette wife, and there's nothing I love more than the idea of showing her off. Her eager smile, cascading hair, full breasts, long legs, round ass all combine to create the quintessential sexual being, and I have always thought it a shame that only one person at a time could enjoy seeing such a perfect example of femininity.
Well, if I'm being completely honest, it's not just the idea of putting her on display for the world to enjoy. Since we first started dating, my fantasy has always been not to only to show her off but to watch her in the throes of pleasure before a captivated audience. A woman with her natural advantages shouldn't be kept under a bushel basket.
But in the five years we've been married, I had resigned myself to the idea that this desire would live only in my imagination. Despite the fact that my beautiful Michelle had limitless sexual energy, she never seemed willing to venture outside of our marriage.
Doubly frustrating was the fact that her imagination was nearly as fervent as my own. We never kept our fantasies secret from each other, and our best sex always happened after a couple of drinks lowered our inhibitions and we shared our ideal scenarios. Sometimes when we talked about them, we never even got as far as actually fucking and ended up both cumming from foreplay alone.
"What would you like to see?" Michelle would purr, pressing her body against me.
"You know," I would reply.
"No, I don't. You need to tell me."
"I want to see a crowd of people surround you. I want to see you lying on the ground, naked, with your legs spread as they press in around you."
"What do they get to see me do?" she would ask, wrapping her soft, hot hand around my hardening cock.
"You start by rubbing your clit, and then you work your fingers inside yourself. First one, then two, then three as you push them deep in your pussy and rub your clit with your other hand."
She would start jerking me faster, increasing the rhythm of her hand sliding up and down my shaft. "What are they doing, the people watching me?" she would ask in my ear, her breath hot, her voice low and sensual.
"They're nude too, and their eyes are glued to you. They're fucking each other, men bending their women forward and thrusting into them from behind as they all watch you fucking yourself."
"Does anyone touch me?"
"Of course. The nearest ones all reach out and grab for whatever they can get - your tits, your ass, one girl even manages to slip a couple of her fingers into your pussy as well."
"Uhnh," she would growl, rubbing and jerking faster.
"Soon, you can't stand it any longer. You arch your back, and you're cumming. Your pussy is tightening on your fingers, the girl's fingers, your nipples are being twisted and sucked, and you cum again and again, your body twitching and your tight pink cunt spasming."
"Unhh, aggh."
She would typically let go of my cock at the climax of the story and rub her clit furiously, letting waves of pleasure wash over her as she shuddered with her own actual orgasm. She'd allow herself a couple of seconds to catch her breath, then turn over and suck my cock into her mouth with the same intensity. Within moments I would let go and shoot my load into her. She would suck greedily at my cock and pump as much of my cum as she could down her throat.
Now, don't mistake me. I know how lucky I am to have a woman who's not only gorgeous but who will also jerk and suck me off to a shared fantasy. But the truth is that it's a little disappointing to have her, once it's all over, dismiss it as "only a story." Once this scenario played itself out a few times, I figured that it was as close as I would get to being able to live my fantasy of displaying my gorgeous wife to an appreciative crowd.
Except that it wasn't. Not once last Halloween happened.
I still don't know at this point if it was fate or only a fortunate confluence of events. It doesn't really matter; what matters is that I finally got the chance I had dreamed of.
We were both about to turn thirty and had been talking about how we missed those late nights partying when we were just out of college. So when we got an unexpected invite to a Halloween party from a friend of one of my colleagues from work, we were eager to go. I didn't know the people hosting the party, but I'd heard around the office that they were well off and had a beautiful home. I'd also learned that their parties were known for getting pretty wild sometimes. That tidbit of knowledge I kept to myself, just on the off chance it might make Michelle balk at going.
It had been a few years since we'd done the costume thing, so we were at something of a loss. Then I had what turned out to be a critical moment of inspiration.
I read in The New York Journal that the famous liquor absinthe had only recently been legalized in the U.S. and that it was again a trendy drink after an almost hundred-year hiatus. The bohemians in Paris in the late 1800's loved their absinthe, and at the time many people believed it had near-hallucinogenic properties. I suppose that's why it was so popular with creative types and lead to some of their more outlandish behavior. It was this notion, combined with the fact that the drink was represented by the image of a sexy green fairy, that ended up providing the impetus for what would turn out to be an unforgettable night for us.
Michelle had originally been a lit major in college before she switched programs, so she was familiar with the legendary green liquor. When I proposed an absinthe theme for our night, she agreed, thinking it would be a little unusual but entirely appropriate. I would pretend to be a writer dressed in Victorian attire, she'd be the Green Fairy, and the absinthe would be a novel hostess gift. It was the perfect package.
Getting hold of a Victorian gentleman's suit wasn't that hard, since theatrical supply companies have tons of period clothing. My wife's costume, however, was another matter.
We searched the costume shops in our area, but while basic fairy costumes are easy to find, Michelle wanted just the right one. Naturally, it had to be green, so that cut out a lot of them. Then, some were far too conservative while others were far too slutty for her tastes. Most men would agree that there's no such thing as "too slutty," but she didn't want to walk into a party looking as though she were there only to turn tricks. I guess I saw her point.
After a couple of weekends of scouring the local shops, we decided to try our luck at one of those seasonal costume superstores. Almost immediately, Michelle found the perfect outfit.
At first I didn't think she'd go for it. It was the requisite color, a deep forest green, but it seemed to be too revealing. The bottom of the dress, which was made of overlapping layers of cloth that resembled leaves, came down two inches below her ass and accentuated her long, shapely legs. The top was strapless. In fact, it acted like a bustier, pushing her soft breasts up and making it seem as though they were displayed on a shelf. The front of the dress only covered about half an inch above her nipples, effectively leaving about 90% of her breasts completely exposed. A multi-sectioned set of diaphanous wings completed the nymphet look.
