Abigail's Birthday Treat

I watched from the closet in the vestibule as my horny blonde wife bounced excitedly toward the front door, without a stitch of clothing on her lithe, tanned body. Abigail is 5'6", with bobbed golden locks, crystal blue eyes, heavy but firm 36D breasts, and an ass that I have actually seen cause a traffic accident. I'm not sure I've ever seen those beautiful eyes light up with glee the way they did when the doorbell rang, and though I only caught a fleeting glimpse of her neatly trimmed pubic strip as she hurried past the closet door, I knew the soft, tight hole beneath it was already dripping wet with anticipation.

Abigail threw open the door, revealing her totally naked curves to an instantly stunned parcel delivery man holding a large box in his hands. From my vantage point through the tiny crack between the closet door and its frame, I couldn't see any more of the guy than the bottom half of his legs below the box and his wide-eyed, open-mouthed face above it. But something told me that the moment he saw Abigail standing there, her big tits heaving with giddy breathlessness, he was suddenly carrying more than one very large package he'd really like to deliver to my grinning wife.

I sympathized with him, since the sight of my buck naked betrothed eagerly exposing every mouth-watering inch of herself to a perfect stranger had my own cock throbbing painfully in my jeans. I had to resist the temptation to take it out and stroke it, though. I didn't want to get too excited too soon and end up missing out on any of the impending fun.

Abigail didn't make things easier on either of us when she spoke, her words dripping with less-than-subtle innuendo. "I'm so glad you're finally here!" she exclaimed, beaming at the delivery man like she wanted to eat him alive. "I really, really wanted you to come on my birthday!" It was all I could do to suppress a snicker that would have given away my presence, just a few feet away from them. The dumbfounded delivery guy, his eyes still locked on the big, brown areolas and nickel-sized nipples of my wife's plump titties, nearly dropped the heavy parcel.

"Your birthday?" he stammered.

"Sure," Abigail replied, as if surprised that he hadn't already deduced that. "Can't you see I'm in my birthday suit?"

The man laughed and shook his head in disbelief, like he was having a difficult time accepting that any of this was really happening to him. "Oh, I see that!" he replied. "I can definitely see that!"

Abigail smiled and did a half-curtsy. "Do you like it?" Before he could answer, she added, "Wait! Let me let you see it all!" With that, she turned around slowly, as if modeling a new dress, looking back over her shoulder to watch his reaction as his eyes drank in the magnificent mounds of her firm, full buttocks.

As she finished her revolution, she looked at him with what seemed like sincere curiosity about his opinion of her form. "What do you think?"

"I think you have an incredible birthday suit, ma'am. The best I've ever seen!"

She feigned embarrassed humility. "Aw," she cooed, "you're sweet!" Her eyes looked him up and down again, and she said with barely contained zeal, "I'm so excited that my birthday present is finally here!" Then she looked at the huge box in his hands and instantly affected a mild damsel-in-distress tone, asking, "Would you be a sweetheart and bring that on in for me? I'd get my husband to do it, but he's not home right now."

I grinned as I watched that sink in, the parcel carrier's eyes widening again with the thought that maybe this crazy, delicious blonde sexpot had more in mind than just flashing him a little T&A. It was a look I'd seen plenty of guys get while conversing with my uninhibited, terminally flirtatious bride. Hell, it was the same look I had on my face the afternoon we first met, when a random meeting at the college bookstore gave way to very enthusiastic, very public handjob in my car not more than fifteen minutes later, which in turn led to a whole night of fucking like wild rabbits in the same dorm room where her longsuffering roommate was trying in vain to get some sleep. Abigail wasn't just insanely gorgeous; she oozed sex in everything she said and did, so that even the most chaste and puritanical man she encountered was driven to lustful thoughts within seconds of making her acquaintance.

Abigail turned and started toward the living room, urging the delivery man to follow with a breathy, "Come." His eyes followed the sway of her hips as he trailed her into the other room, a hungry grin on his slightly blushed face.

I had to open the closet door just a little wider to see into the living room, where Abigail still had her bare back side turned toward the leering man. "Where do you want it?" the guy asked, his gaze locked on her fantastic butt.

Abigail looked back over her shoulder with a predatory smile and said, "You can put it anywhere," she purred, cocking her hips back ever so slightly so that her heart-shaped derriere was lifted and thrust out in his direction. The delivery guy let out an audible gasp and set the box down on the floor. My wife turned and looked him up and down again. "That sure is a really big package!" she squealed with excitement. Not once as she was saying it did her eyes move away from him to the parcel on the floor.

Now the carrier was trying to play it cool. "It is," he agreed, glancing at the wrapped carton.

"What is it?"

Abigail looked momentarily confused, then shot a disinterested glare at the box. "What? That?" she asked. "I don't know. Something my husband ordered."

"But I thought you said it was your birthday present?"

"No, silly!" she laughed. "That's not for me!" She took two steps forward and abruptly dropped to her knees on the soft carpet, right in front of the befuddled courier. With a wicked grin, she reached up and took hold of the metal tab of his fly, her face lighting up with anticipation as she unzipped it. "This is what I want for my birthday!"

I've seen my wife with many a thick prick in her hands since she first grabbed mine in the car outside the bookstore all those years earlier, but each time she wraps her nimble fingers around a new one, she positively beams at it like it's the most beautiful, most precious thing she's ever seen in her life. On this particular occasion, she reached in between the folds of the brown slacks and pulled out a thin but quite long shaft of bloated, circumcised pink meat that was tipped with an inordinately fat, bulbous crown which was already turning a dark shade of bluish-purple. The thing came free of the pants like it was spring-loaded, almost hitting her in her button nose before it sprang back and pointed straight up at the ceiling. "Oooh!" I heard her exclaim as the cock stood fully erect, a few scant inches from her lovely face. "It's just perfect!" Abigail is always telling men she fucks and sucks that their cocks are perfect, and I think each and every time she says it, she means it from the bottom of her dirty little heart.

"Oh my God," moaned the delivery man as the nude woman he'd met thirty seconds earlier drew the swollen head of his stiff pecker between her lush, pink lips, into the soft, welcoming warmth of her mouth. She stayed like that for a long moment, nursing fervently on the fat mushroom of his glans like a hungry baby on a milk-spewing nipple. The parcel carrier threw his head back and uttered a second, delirious, "Oh my God!" His hands came up and grabbed both sides of my wife's head, pulling it toward him as he thrust his hips forward. Abigail didn't resist at all as he forced his long, curved cock deeper and deeper into her mouth. Instead she let him sink it in until her nose and lips were nestled in a mass of dark, curly pubes inside his open zipper, moaning and humming as though each centimeter of phallic flesh that glided over her wet tongue was more delicious than the last.

At this point, with my wife kneeling stark naked in front of a total stranger, his shaft buried balls deep down her hot throat, I could no longer fight my own agonizing arousal. I reached down and pulled my engorged tool from my pants, stroking it slowly from base to crown as I pushed the door open just a little further to get a better view of the show. Though I've never gotten jealous when Abigail was getting fucked by another man, I was at that moment very envious of the lucky delivery man. We were both so hard and horny that it hurt, but he had my wanton spouse's soft, suctioning mouth hole to pump his poor, inflamed dick into until he got the relief he so badly craved, while I was left to my own devices. Knowing full well how skilled Abigail was at draining overburdened balls with that pretty oral orifice of hers, I would have given just about anything at that moment to trade places with our surprised houseguest and give her flushed face a good, deep fucking.

As my hands tended to my tension, the delivery man was, in fact, slowly drawing his prick almost all the way out of Abigail's mouth and then sliding it all the way back in, savoring each stroke and the moist, molten waves of pleasure it sent through his body. My wife was still happily purring away as her mouth was repeatedly skewered with strange dick, her hands coming up and making tight rings around the penetrating shaft with her thumbs, and index and middle fingers. As the fat cock slid in and out of her lips, it brought with it streams of hot, slick saliva which coated her clenching fingers, giving the lucky courier a slippery, two-fisted tunnel to plow through on his way down and back up her gulping gullet.

After several minutes of submissively taking this steadily quickening face-fuck, Abigail let one hand slip from the pistoning pole and went digging in his fly beneath it to retrieve his bloated ball sack. Triumphantly, she pulled the heavy testicles from their cotton confines and kneaded them tenderly in her soft, silky palm. This drove the parcel carrier half-crazy, his eyes clenching shut tightly as he grunted through gritted teeth a guttural, "Oh, fuck yeah!" Spurred on by this favorable response, Abigail let his cock pop free from her mouth and promptly moved her head in to kiss and suck at the full, pink balls. She continued to stroke away at his staff with one squeezing hand as she fed herself his big berries with other, seeming intent on thoroughly warming up the creamy liquid inside as much as possible before the urgent milking of her fingers coaxed it out.

Without realizing it, my own fist pumping had intensified quickly, and I realized as I watched Abigail lapping away at his scrotum like a starving kitten attacking a bowl of milk that I would climax before he did if I didn't ease up. I even debated for a moment just abandoning the whole charade, walking out of the closet and into the living room, and sinking my throbbing prick in her cunt as she continued sucking him off. But this was Abigail's birthday present, and I wanted it to play out exactly the way she wanted. I certainly didn't want to spook the poor delivery guy and have him run out before my lascivious little nympho had a chance to properly finish what she'd so brazenly started. My own relief could wait just a little longer. I put my dick back in my jeans, consoling myself with thoughts of how much fun I would be having in a few minutes.

Having sufficiently savored the man's hefty nuts, Abigail returned her greedy lips to his now dark red cock. She resumed taking it in and out of her suckling mouth, still supporting the effort with one clenching, spit-soaked fist while continuing to cup his balls in the open palm of the other. This time there was less pelvic pumping on the part of the delivery man, who now seemed content to stand there and let my wife do all the wonderful work. Perhaps he realized by that point that he didn't have to hurry because this sex-crazed housewife wasn't likely to send him away without finishing him off. Or maybe he was just enjoying her five-star cocksucking so much that he didn't want it to end any sooner than was absolutely necessary. Either way, he gave up forcing the issue and just let her do the deed for which she obviously had a natural, God-given gift.

Because of this, his eyes opened wide in disappointment when she abruptly stopped sucking and jerking. He looked down to find her giving him an impatient glare. "What's wrong?" he pleaded, desperately wanting to get whatever the problem was sorted out and get his meat back into her oral cavern.

"It's my birthday," she replied, sounding almost petulant. I smiled as I watched, knowing what was coming.

The man was confused, but tried his best to keep the situation from going south quickly. "I get it," he said. "You want me to do you now, right?"

Smiling, Abigail shook her head. "Sweet of you to offer, but no. It's my birthday, and since I'm blowing out the candle, don't you think you should be singing?"

This really caught the guy off-guard. "What?"

"Sing 'Happy Birthday' to me while I blow out the candle! Otherwise," she said, giving his cock and balls a gentle squeeze of encouragement, "your wish might not come true!"

To his credit, there was no hesitation. As Abigail resumed sucking feverishly up and down the length of his shaft, the delivery man began zestfully singing the familiar tune as though he were at a child's birthday party. "Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!" he sang, his voice wavering only the tiniest bit as my wife sucked on his cockhead and rimmed his piss hole with the tip of her slick tongue.

The delivery man sang and Abigail sucked. The louder he crooned, the faster and more intense she worked at his giant organ. Soon, his vocals were echoing off the high ceilings of our living room. Each time he finished a round of the song, my wife would let go of his balls and wave to him to continue. With each reprise, she returned her free hand to its scrotal ministrations and redoubled her efforts to drain the balls contained within the heavy sack.

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear slut..." He'd never even read the name on the address label on the package, but he wasn't about to let that fact get in the way of their lewd birthday celebration. Initially, he'd said "lady" during the bit where you're supposed to sing the guest of honor's name. As she pumped and milked him closer and closer to eruption, however, he became emboldened and started calling her things like "honey" and "doll." Then he moved on to "whore" and "cocksucker" and such, because he realized a bit late that there really wasn't much chance of offending a woman who greets total strangers at the front door in the nude and then casually gives them head. If Abigail was at all put off by his vulgar name-calling, she gave no indication of it, never once pausing in her fervent quest to earn a mouthful of his cum.

Through the melody, I could hear sloppy slurping sounds, Abigail's furious blowing creating a dripping cacophony of wet suction that just made it harder to keep from whipping my own hard-on back out and beating it relentlessly until I came. But I somehow resisted, though I couldn't stop myself from involuntarily rubbing my pelvis against the door frame a little, just to give my poor pecker at least some of the physical contact it so desperately craved.

From the stammering, breathless way he was struggling to keep the song going, I could tell that my wife's considerable dick-eating skills were rapidly bringing the parcel carrier to the brink of climax. Halfway through another round of the tune, his knees locked up, his hips thrust forward, his face scrunched up like he was in agony, and he roared, "Fuck yeah! Take it, baby! Take it all!" Abigail's head and hands just kept right on pumping away as though he still had a long way to reach climax, but I could see her upper body tense and relax several times as she swallowed jet after jet of thick jism straight down her esophagus and into her hungry belly. The delivery guy grunted and growled as he fired each spurt onto the back of her tongue. My wife can handle a lot, but he must have really been full to the brim with the sticky stuff, because she actually gagged a couple of times trying to get it all down. She didn't stop, though. Abigail prides herself on never, ever wasting a drop of what she will unashamedly tell you is her absolute favorite beverage in the whole world.

When the grunting and ejaculating had reached its end, Abigail took a few extra seconds to smear the last remaining bits of pearly ooze seeping from his piss hole all over her lips, cheeks, and chin, purring contentedly as the stuff saturated her flawless face. Then she ran the tip of her tongue down the underside of the arching shaft, gave the freshly drained balls a couple of gentle laps, and licked her way back up to the tip. She kissed the purple head one more time, this time affectionately, more like someone kissing a puppy dog than a nymphomaniac finishing a spirited blowjob.

Her task complete, she stood and gave the delivery guy a quick peck on the cheek, smiling blissfully at him. "That's what I like about your delivery service," she said. "You guys always come right on time!" The man was still dazed from his mind-blowing orgasm, so Abigail took it upon herself to tuck his satisfied prick back into his trousers and zip him up. He was muttering something about God again when she took his hand and led him toward the front door, forcing me to pull the closet door closed a little to avoid being seen as they passed.

At the front door, Abigail thanked him again. Then she appeared to suddenly think of something which turned her big grin into a disappointed frown. "Damn," she said, sighing.

"What's wrong?" the man asked.

"It's just too bad my husband didn't order that crate cash on delivery."

"Why?"

"Because I don't have any cash on me," she answered. "Imagine where I would have had to let you put that great big, juicy cock of yours to cover the delivery charge!" The delivery man's eyes widened again, moving reflexively back to the tantalizing slopes and valleys of her naked lower half. "Oh well," said Abigail with a shrug, "maybe next time!" With that, she opened the front door and ushered him out, the poor guy no longer entirely certain he was ready to leave.

I stepped out of the dark closet and smiled at my wife, who beamed at me like a little girl whose daddy has just bought her a pony. "Did you like your present, birthday girl?" I asked.

She bounced over and threw her arms around me, giving me an exaggerated smooch on the lips. "You know I did, baby!" she said. Then she felt the massive bulge in my crotch pressing against her taut, bare belly and added, "And so did you, it seems."

I leaned in and drew her left earlobe into my mouth, sucking it gently before answering, "You know there's only one thing I love more than seeing you please another man's hard cock."

"And what's that, loverboy?"

"Seeing you please mine!" I took her hand and led her into the living room, stopping near the big parcel on the floor.

"What is in there?" she asked, gesturing at the cardboard container.

With a sly smile I replied, "That's for you to find out soon. Right now, I have another present I really need to give you!"

She turned and bent over, placing her hands on the carton and sticking her beautiful ass straight out at me. Beneath those marvelous cheeks, I could see the glistening dew of a succulent snatch just aching to be filled with something hard. She looked over her shoulder and said, "The door's open, baby. Time for you to deliver that big package!"

I'd love to be able to say that the fucking which followed was a marathon session which lasted well into the night, but the fact is that after getting so worked up watching Abigail suck off a random stranger, I was in no condition to hold out for long against the hot, gripping suction of her creamy twat walls. I yanked my agonized dick out of my pants, drove it into her as hard as I could, and fucked her like I wanted to hurt her for no more than a few minutes before her magnificent pussy had me at the edge of explosive meltdown. When she reached up with one hand, squeezed my bursting balls with red-nailed fingers, and growled, "Give that sweet cum, baby, deep inside my cunt!", a volcano erupted from the depths of my scrotum to the head of my rod, and I came and came up in her tight cooze canal until the room went momentarily white and my eyes rolled back into my head.