Quality Pussy

QUALITY PUSSY

'Quality pussy'. That was the expression used frequently by my husband Mel and his buddies.

He and his friend Stanley were watching football and drinking beer and somehow, they got talking about women, describing the girlfriend of one of their buddies as being 'quality pussy'. I overheard them.

I was a little bit annoyed and also a little bit aroused by their conversation. Hearing them talk about sex and other women was titillating, but their objectification of women pissed me off.

I said, "Let me tell you boys, there's a lot more quality pussy than there is quality cock."

Stanley responded, "Now how do you know that, Nancy?" I'm Nancy.

My husband, full of beer and full of shit, asked, "Have you been checking out the quality of cocks in the neighborhood, or at work?"

I work at an office; I'm an IT tech. He thought it was a joke to accuse me of fooling around, but I was annoyed that he would suggest it with his friend present.

I answered, "And what if I was? I sure don't see much quality cock around here."

I had insulted my husband's manhood and he took umbrage. "What do you mean? You've never had it so good. You never seem to get tired of my cock."

It was true, but he was embarrassing me by talking about how I loved his cock.

I jagged back, "Tired is a good word, boring maybe."

I shut him up with that comment.

I said to him, "I haven't had that much experience with cocks, but I'll bet yours is just average." I was being snotty.

"It seems to satisfy you." He replied.

I continued to hassle him, "You wouldn't know if I was satisfied or not. You always fall asleep after you come."

He was embarrassed to hear me being critical with his friend there.

I asked him, "Do you think mine is a quality pussy."

The answer he needed to give was obvious. He said, "Yes, of course. You have a quality pussy."

Stanley cracked, "I'll bet it's a gourmet pussy."

My husband laughed at the crude joke. He and his friend were talking about my cunt.

I asked Mel, "How do you know how good my pussy is? Have you been comparing?"

He defensively replied, "No, of course not. I just can't imagine any woman having a finer pussy than yours."

"Is that how you think of me, as a nice pussy?"

"Of course not. I love you for much more than that." He should've quit there, but he added, "You have quality tits too." Then laughed along with his friend.

His friend interjected himself again, saying, "There is no such thing as a bad set of tits."

"But there are quality tits, just like there is quality pussy." Mel said.

"Are you a good judge of tits?" I asked my husband. "You seem to like looking at them when our friends' wives are around or when we're out to dinner."

He said, "Well, if women flaunt them, I'm going to enjoy them."

I pulled up my shirt and bra, exposing my tits to Mel and his friend. "Are these quality tits?"

Mel said yes and Stanley said the same.

I walked over to Stanley and said, "Feel them and give me an honest opinion. My husband just flatters me so he can get in my pants."

Stanley put his hands on my breasts, gently squeezing them, rubbing his thumbs over my nipples. I took my shirt and bra off completely.

"Taste them." I said, moving closer.

He licked one, then the other tit and said, "Nancy, those are tits of the highest quality."

"Thank you. It's nice to hear that from someone whose opinion I respect." I looked at Mel and stuck my tongue out, teasing him.

I was being bolder than I ever had been. I'd had a few glasses of wine, but that in not an excuse, although it did lower my inhibitions.

I returned to the topic of pussy, asking both men, "What constitutes a quality pussy?"

Mel said, "Well, appearance, taste, accessibility."

His friend added, "A quality pussy can squeeze your dick and make you come."

"What about the pussy coming?" I asked. "Isn't that important?"

My asshole husband said, "I guess it is to the woman."

Stanley added, "Oh course it's important, when a woman comes, she lets herself go and becomes a complete slut. That's quality pussy."

That was a better answer, but still, they were pissing me off, talking about women as though they were just hosts for cunts.

I asked my husband, "I wonder if your friend would agree that I have a quality pussy. I'll bet he's more experienced than you."

Stanley interjected, "I do pride myself as being a connoisseur of pussy."

"Well, give me your professional opinion then."

I stood and reached under my skirt and pulled my panties down and off my feet. Mel's mouth fell-open when I sat on a chair near his friend and spread my legs, showing him my cunt. I'd never done anything like this before, but for some reason, I yielded to my basest instincts.

Stanley looked at his friend. When Mel didn't object, Stanley knelt in front of me and took a good look at my pussy. I have a nice thick patch of dark hair above my slit with follicles of dark hair on my labia. I think it looks gross, a mess of black hair mixed with the glistening pink folds of my vulva. I was even more immodest when I spread my pussy lips to show Stanley my clit and the opening to my vagina.

I asked him, "Do you need to taste it?"

He nodded, so I pulled his hand into my crotch and rubbed his fingers along my gash. He slid one finger inside me. Then he tasted me. My husband was dumbfounded watching.

"Marvelous." Stanley said. He tried to sound like a wine taster, "The bouquet is refreshing with a hint of vanilla. The presentation is superb and the taste has a bit of a nutty flavor. I love your perfume."

"I spray it on my pussy so Mel can find it in the dark."

"There are a few other scents that are familiar."

I said, "There may be a little of Mel's cum in there from this morning."

Stanley put two fingers into my vagina and pressed the inside walls of my love-tube. Then he tasted his fingers and made a humming sound of delight.

I don't know why I did it. I guess I was still miffed about Mel acting like women should just be judged by their pussies.

I said to Stanley, "You know, there may be some residual flavors from your lunch on your fingers. Perhaps you should taste it directly."

Stanley looked at my husband, who remained silent, but didn't object. He often would just silently watch me when I got stirred up about something.

Stanley leaned forward and put his tongue directly on my pussy. He flicked his tongue over my clit and pushed his face into me, swirling his tongue around the rim of my vagina.

"Get a good taste." I suggested.

He stayed there for about a minute, licking the folds of my cunt while I held my pussy lips open for him. With the way I was sitting, he could see everything that I had, including my asshole.

I said, "You have a quality tongue."

I looked at my husband, sitting there unbelieving. His friend was eating his wife's pussy.

I said, "Should we do the test where the pussy squeezes the cum from a penis?"

Mel said, "I'll be the one to judge that."

I said, "I'll bet Stanley has more experience." I asked the two men, "How many pussies have your dicks been in."

I knew Mel would lose out. He'd told me he'd only screwed one girl before me. He said, "Four."

I looked at him astonished. He said, "They were just one-night stands when I was in the Navy."

Stanley said, "I haven't kept count, probably a dozen."

"You've fucked a dozen women?"

"At least." He said.

I looked at my husband and said, "We have an expert here. I think he should do the test."

Mel was incredulous, "You want him to put his cock in your pussy?"

I said, "Well. I want to know if I have a quality pussy or not."

"You do. Don't worry about it." He said.

I asked, "When you and your buddies are out drinking and you talk about women, do you tell them that I have a quality pussy?"

"No, I don't."

"So, they must think I don't have one. I would think you would be proud of my pussy and brag about it."

He was scrambling for and answer, "We don't discuss you. You're my wife."

"I'll bet you talk about other wives when the husband isn't there."

"Well, sometimes." He replied.

"So, they must talk about me when you aren't there. Do they think I have a quality pussy?"

"I don't know what they say."

"Well then, Stanley can tell them if I do."

He laughed and said, "If you want Stanley to fuck you, go ahead."

"Not so fast. We've talks about quality peckers. You can't test a pussy with an inferior pecker."

Mel and Stanley knew where I was going.

I said, "Get them out and let me see."

Mel was chickening out, but Stanley was drunk and uninhibited. He whipped out his dick. It stuck out of his fly hole.

"Drop your pants too. I want to see your nuts."

He did. His pants dropped below his knees and he pulled off his shirt so I had an unobstructed view of his hardening pecker. I grabbed the thing and lightly squeezed it. It was fully erect.

"Mind if I taste it?" I asked.

Stanley looked at Mel who just shrugged.

I leaned forward and put his cock in my mouth. He was standing before me while I sat on my chair. My dumbfounded husband watched from another chair. He was rubbing his own dick through his pants.

I love Mel completely, but when he and his buddies get drunk and start objectifying women, it annoys me. They talk about women, including other wives like they are all sluts. I ask him if he thinks of me as a slut and if he wants me to act like one and he quickly changes his tune.

He didn't answer one time when I asked if his buddies talked about me like that, rating me from one to ten, talking about my ass and my tits and imagining how I would be in bed.

"Do they say, 'I'll bet Nancy gives good head' or 'I'd like to put my dick in that sweet ass of hers.'"

He said they didn't, which was probably true when he was around, but if they talked about the other wives like that, I'm sure they talked about me too.

I was swallowing Stanley's dick and I asked him, between sucks, "What do you guys say about me when Mel isn't around?"

"Nothing."

I backed off his dick until he gave me truthful answer.

He said, "They say that Mel is a lucky guy, having you."

"Why is he so lucky?"

"They really like your tits and when you wear short shorts, they like seeing your thighs."

"What else?" I was increasing the tempo on his dick, inspiring him to give a good answer.

"They think you have a quality pussy."

I sucked a bit more.

He added, "They like seeing the photos of you, particularly those of your puss."

I hadn't realized that my dear husband had been sharing the nude photos he had of me. I looked at Mel and shoved my head onto Stanleys' dick, taking it into my throat.

Stanley realized that the more he told me, the better I would suck his cock.

"Mel showed us a video of you stripping and playing with yourself. It was so hot."

My nose was in his pubic hair. I was choking on his dick.

He continued, "We all have copies."

I was getting angrier with my husband, but was aroused as well. He'd shown his friends the most intimate photos of me. The funny thing was that I had sort-of given him permission, in so many words. I told him once that I would be so hot if he showed those photos to someone else. I was fantasizing, he took me seriously and did it.

I sucked Stanley's dick; it was shiny with my saliva. I was worshiping the thing, rubbing it against my nose, licking under his scrotum toward his asshole.

I kissed the upright prick and said to my husband, "Now this is a quality pecker. I'm going to put it inside me, okay?"

My dear husband is a voyeur and likes to show me off. He's convinced me to get topless with his friends a few times and strips me out in the woods and takes photos.

He didn't object.

I went to my hands and knees on the carpet and said to Stanley, "Put that thing inside me and tell me if I have a quality pussy." He said he'd fucked a dozen women which made him somewhat of an expert.

He knelt behind me. He lifted my skirt. His dick bounced against my ass cheeks, then he aimed it between my legs and pushed forward. I reached between my legs to help guide it to the right spot. It slid into me and with one stroke, he was balls deep in his friend's wife's pussy.

I gripped his dick with my cunt muscles, wanting to milk the cum from his quality cock. He reached around and fondled my tits. They swayed beneath me with every thrust of his hips.

I looked at my husband and said, "Ooh, he does have a quality pecker. He fills me up. I think he's bigger than you." I didn't know if Stanley was bigger and it didn't matter, but I know men have a thing about who had the biggest dick.

My voyeuristic husband had his phone out, taking photos.

"Are you going to show those photos to your buddies? Maybe they can come over and see if I have a quality pussy for themselves."

Mel was thinking through his dick. He had it in his hand and was pumping himself while he watched his friend rail me.

I looked back at Stanley and asked, "What's the verdict?"

He said, "You're a ten."

"I am or my cunt is, which?"

He said, "Both." He had enough sense to play to the ego of a woman when he was fucking her.

"Are you going to tell all Mel's friends that you fucked his wife and I'm a ten?"

He looked at poor Mel, watching me with his dick in his hand and said, "Yes. I'll tell them all what a good fuck you are, a ten, quality pussy for sure."

"Tell them they can come over and get some too."

He said, "I sure will."

I looked at my husband and asked, "Won't that make you feel good, honey, if all your friends fuck me and know how good I am? You can be proud to be married to a 'quality pussy'."

He just looked at us, mesmerized by what he was seeing.

"Your friend is going to come in me and I'm going to make you lick his sperm out of my cunt after he leaves."

I was embarrassing him, saying he was going to eat his friend's cum.

I said to Stanley, "Mel likes cream pies."

Mel finally objected. "That's not true."

I said, "Well it's gonna be. I going to make you clean the cum out of my cunt after all your friends have fucked me."

He was annoyed now. "Just shut the fuck up." He said.

That pissed me off, but I deserved it.

Just then, Stanley interrupted our conversation by coming inside me. He pressed forward and held still. I felt his seed pouring into me.

I looked at Mel, "Oh baby. Your friend is coming inside me. His little sperms are going where only yours have been. Maybe he'll get me pregnant."

No chance of that, I'm on the pill (did I remember to take it this morning? I wondered).

Stanley filled me with his cum. Some overflowed and poured out around his dick.

He pulled out and I turned around. His cum continued to leak from my vagina. I sucked his dick, swallowing his and my cum, lewdly licking the prick that had just fucked me while Mel looked on.

We sat for a moment.

Stanley just said, "That is quality pussy, gourmet pussy, platinum pussy."

"Thank you." I said. "You have a quality cock."

Stanley knew it was time to leave. He didn't know if my husband was going to beat the shit out of me or eat my sloppy cunt, but knew we needed to be alone.

They said farewells at the door and I heard Stanley say, "I won't tell anyone." I laughed.

Stanley came back. I was still on the floor.

He said, "What got into you? I've never seen you act like that."

"Did you like it? You like those dirty stories where the wife is a slut and fucks the husband's best friend."

He said, "Well, Stanley isn't my best friend, Mark is."

I said, "Well I'll have to fuck Mark then. When is he coming over?"

Mel replied, "He's married and doesn't fool around."

Mark is married to a good friend of mine, Sheila.

"That's not what I heard. He and Sheila have swapped with Kelly and Ricardo." I was exaggerating. I'd only heard rumors.

"Huh?"

"You can fuck Sheila while I fuck Mark."

He was dumbfounded.

I pulled him to the floor, pulled his clothes off and sat on his rigid cock, riding him with a cunt full of his friend's cum in my 'quality pussy'.

Oh, I didn't make him eat my pussy.

He did it without being asked.

Does your wife have a quality pussy?