Donna Lets Loose In San Diego

(I wrote this story for Donna, as she was perpetually wasted and sexually wiped-out during this escapade. It is from my perspective and observations of our week in San Diego. Scott)

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During the middle of August, a few weeks before the new school year, Donna's folks took the children for a week on a vacation to Disneyland. Our friends, Bob and Char, had rented a beach house near Pacific Beach for the summer, but couldn't stay the last couple weeks. Therefore, they offered us the place for the remaining time and we took advantage of a week away from the kids. Approaching forty, Donna still looked like a college fox in her Brazilian thong bikini. The first day at the beach she had quite a number of admirers on the beach. Donna always laughingly told me it was from her revolutionary flirting skills and poise; I always rebutted, "Having a spectacular pair of legs and nice tits and ass is not a skill." She's the type of woman that you might see in a B movie, only she's truly brilliant, naturally beautiful, very professional, and has perfect DD-cup breasts that God gave her.

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The fact that she was a highly sexy thirty-nine year old MILF spread like wildfire at the beach and actually got Donna even more "Hot Points," as some of the young men began calling it. I sometimes wish I were more ignorant to men gazing at her, but hey, I'm neither naive nor stupid when it comes to what they are staring at; it's not the bikini, it's what's under it. She truly is gorgeous and will be stared at, especially by the college boys, males in general for that matter. It's been said that if men stare at a woman as she walks by, she's beautiful, but if both men and women stare, she's hot. Donna is definitely hot and also a "hotwife". At 5'3", 122 lbs, gorgeous ass, perfect curves, flawless skin, and an amazingly cute innocent looking face, the fact that she is a wife and mom really made little difference. If she were a bottle washer, the testosterone-filled young men at this beach would have been attracted to her.

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Just into our second day there, we ended up driving to Thruster's Bar along Pacific Beach. Donna had been having thoughts regarding the approach of her fortieth birthday, so I decided to let her flirt with the college men and see where it led. We ended up staying the entire evening hanging out and dancing. We couldn't help noticing several of the college age guys sitting on the outside patio. As we walked to the side of the patio, we noticed they had a small table pulled out playing a drinking game, which required the loser to down a shot. It appeared they must have all been losing.

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Donna quickly said in a joking manner as we walked up, "Boys, that's a game where even the winner's a loser in the morning."

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They all laughed and began brutally heckling her to join them. Now, I'm not the type to enter a pissing contest over simple heckling, never have been never will be, but Donna on the other hand can't help herself. She's hard-wired for it and doesn't even know it.

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She playfully began firing right back saying, "First of all, most of you lightweights are already buzzed, and second, I'm not one of your little girly buddies who follows you around and fakes being tipsy after a shot or two."

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That stoked them even more. After another twenty minutes or so of this back and forth banter, she finally said, "Fine... Fine. Okay! Even if I lose, I'll be able to walk when most of you are curled up in the fetal position on the floor."

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I must say I was trying my damnedest not to laugh, because I knew full well what a lightweight she was in the drinking department with hard-liquor and full-on trying to bluff guys who majored in drinking. After a few more minutes of this harassing joust between Donna and her antagonists, she and I went into the bar to get some drinks. I arrived back out on the deck long before Donna as we all waited for her. We began chitchatting about everything and nothing. They must have told me a hundred times how they were going to take her to school on drinking, bragging about what power drinkers they were, how many times they had played this game, and how much they could hold.

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At times thinking they might be overdoing it, they would quickly begin saying, "Oh, but we'll take it easy. Anyone can quit at any time."

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I actually began wondering if anyone would be coherent by the time she came back out. With every passing minute, I began thinking Donna might have been right about most of them ending up on the floor. With the game paused, they continued to pound beer and shots the entire time. Just as I was about to see what was keeping Donna, she pushed the door open and walked out. I noticed she was wearing her bikini top and short skirt, quite normal I suppose for where we were, but not what I was expecting with six drunken college students sitting around. She had apparently gone to the ladies' room and removed her blouse.

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Instantly one of the buzzed college students said, "Scott, please forgive me, but I have to say this, Donna, you are positively the sexiest wife alive."

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She quickly giggled slapping him on the shoulder saying, "Don't try to soften me up, buddy boy, you'll be passed out soon and I'm going be laughing at you tomorrow. That is if you can drag your way out of bed in the morning after the hangover I'm going put on you."

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They were all razzing one another full force. I just sat watching, cracking up as they played their drinking game. After several rounds, one of them said "Scott, with the utmost respect, sir, I believe your wife is cheating so we might need to raise the stakes."

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I simply replied laughing, knowing almost instinctively what he might be alluding to, "Yes, she does appear to be kicking your asses. What's on our mind?"

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He immediately uttered, "Strip shots."

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Now Donna was only into her third shot when she practically cut me off in mid-speech saying, "Oh, aren't we funny, I'm winning and you're all talking about taking clothes off? Try again!"

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I should mention that Donna had been overtly flirting with these young men for a couple of hours by this time. Actually, she and I had a game of our own we had been playing. I always enjoyed her purposeful flirting and told her many times over the years how much it turned me on. In fact it took only a few times playing our little game before she finally confessed that it kind of turned her on too. From the beginning though, she warned me that flirting was not the limit, always reminding me that the naughtiness of it was not enough, and the only reason she continued to do it was because of how it paid off in the bedroom. She was free to fuck other men. So fucking in front of me became our spicy lifestyle. As the night progressed, the young men continued needling her, insisting that "Strip Shots" separated the chicken-shits from the real players. God love her too, she was so into winning she didn't even see the setup being orchestrated.

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I knew full well that they were basically letting her win and carefully timing their moment in which the payoff would be her sitting there completely nude. I have to say that I began getting turned on by the possibility as well. I've seen Donna nude a million times, even in front of a pack of horny young men.

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I kept my mouth shut for a while when suddenly I blurted, "Awe hell, baby, you're cleaning their clocks, they'll be the ones sitting there looking silly."

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As she jokingly put her feet up in the chair and tightly wrapped her arms around her legs, rather like trying to completely cover herself, she began giggling replying, "For crying out loud, everyone here has about three articles of clothing on. What? Is it a three minute game now? I think you all just know I'm winning and are trying to make me quit."

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Every guy there couldn't help but glance at the crotch of her thong as she sat with her feet up in the chair and her arms wrapped around her knees. It was wildly teasing when she would occasionally lean back. Her thong was very tightly stretched over her crotch and pussy. The subtle outline was unmistakable to all who could see. She didn't realize it, but she was playing right into their ploy and I was basically inching it along.

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I too began pumping her up saying things like, "What are you worried about, you've only lost three hands?"

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Ultimately I figured what the hell; I would love to see her slip her bikini off in front of them. There's no doubt she was in rare form, but in my opinion not nearly intoxicated enough to go through with it yet. After several more minutes, she apprehensively said, "Good grief, let's at least go somewhere private if we are going to be this immature."

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They all immediately began picking up the cards and carrying on as they gathered their drinks, and razzing the hell out of her with things like, "Oh, you won't play. You know you won't."

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She and I must have winked at one another twenty times during all this, almost in reassurance to one another that it was all in good fun. The young men followed us to the beach house. After getting in the room and getting all set up, they began to do shots before the game even started again. Donna wasn't to be outdone as she too threw back a few "Jack Daniel" shots from a bottle we had brought with us. At this juncture I could tell she was hell bent on going through with it, but also knew she was unwittingly confident that she had been legitimately winning all along. It was quite comical watching her sneak on a pair of flip-flops. I knew she was going to consider that part of her wardrobe as she gave me a sneaky grin. On the very first round, she and three others had to lose an article of clothing. Donna, threw her wrap skirt onto the bed, but still looked ultimately confident as if it were just a fluke. We all sat around continuing to drink for at least ten minutes before they even began the next round.

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To everyone's surprise, Donna legitimately won the next two rounds leaving three of the guys sitting in just their underwear. Again though, it appeared as if they were letting her win to keep her in the game. And believe me, she had talked enough trash up to this point, she would have a hard time backing out. Before dealing the next hand, and the fact that someone would undoubtedly end up nude if they lost, they actually added an addendum to the rules. Even with the new rules, I could plainly see that Donna was having second thoughts, agreeing that those who became nude could get dressed after five minutes of humiliation while the remaining players worked towards victory.

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As the next round was dealt, I watched as she stared at her cards with an "Oh, shit" look. She laid down three cards and was re-dealt along with the others, when she unconsciously murmured, "You've got to be kidding me."

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They all began chuckling saying, "Oh, the big winner didn't get the card she needed?"

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She instantly replied, "I don't know what you're all laughing at, two of you are about to be sitting there the way you came into this world, and all I'm losing is my flip-flops."

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They instantly began whooping and hollering about how she didn't have flip-flops on when the game started, etc., etc., but she held to her guns and they let it ride. Once again, they all playfully began harassing one another when Donna began riding the losers saying, "Hey this was your all's idea. Remember, oh, let's separate the chicken-shits. Oh, let's separate the chicken-shits. Lose the underwear fellas."

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This went on for at least five minutes when they simply stood up, scooted their underwear down, and kicked them off. Donna watched for a couple of seconds, but as they pushed them down exposing their pubic hair and the tops of their cocks, she turned her head and put a hand over her face with a rather huge smile, but quickly turned back towards them trying to act as though it was completely normal. As a husband in this peculiar situation, I instinctively glanced at their packages. Let's face it, if your wife is playing a strip game, and guys are exposing their cocks, you will compare yourself to what she will no doubt see, no matter how much you act as if you're not. I immediately noticed that one of the guys was completely average, and from what I could tell, he was nervously quite un-erect. The other young man on the other hand, had a slightly aroused thick yet limp cock that flopped out of his underwear. I knew Donna looked right at it, but played it perfectly nonchalant. It was larger than mine, and that bothered me for a split second, but not enough for me to let it interfere with what was transpiring.

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Both guys draped a hand and arm over their genitals as they sat there with Donna relentlessly harassing them saying, "Oh, let's play strip shots, let's play strip shots... Remember you have five minutes, yep you do."

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Not more than a few minutes later, she and the last guy wearing underwear dealt their cards, and by this time Donna was seriously feeling the shots she had consumed over the course of the evening. As she picked up her cards, again she got that intense look of, "Oh, shit," as she intently focused and repositioned her cards several times. She ultimately laid her cards down in a reluctant, "I've been cheated" manner.

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After being re-dealt, she instantly threw her cards face down and said, "Ok you win. I quit... Hey, you said I could quit anytime."

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They all simultaneously began laughing high fiving one another, "Oh, no, Oh, no, you have to. Remember us chicken-shits sitting here naked, what's up with that? Let's put our money where our mouth is... We had to. Yes, yes, we had to, take them off."

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She quickly looked at me grinning almost as if hoping I would say something. Her knees began bouncing a mile a minute as she nervously put her hands over her mouth. She kept bouncing her knees nervously, when finally she stood up with her mouth half opened expressing a nervous smile, and said, "I see there are no gentlemen here who might insist that I maintain my dignity."

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They all began roaring, "Nope, nope, none here, Oh, no, none here," With one eventually saying, "At least you'll have our respect. So will it be the top or bottoms?"

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She stared at me again for a couple of seconds and then turned away as she nervously giggled, "I must be nuts."

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She hurriedly put her thumbs on the sides of her bikini bottoms, and slid them down to her knees as she quickly sat and raised her feet off the floor and removed them. You would have thought this was an off-post military bar with thirty GIs the way they carried on.

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She then sarcastically said, "Good Lord, enough. Haven't you ever seen a woman's pussy before?"

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They all began repeating things like, "Not as fine as yours, not as fine as yours... Scott, your wife is so fucking hot. Oh, my God you're hot. Donna, you're so fucking hot."

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She couldn't stop giggling, telling them "Do you realize I'm thirty-nine years old, and you guys are what, barely twenty-one? You should be chasing those "girls gone wild" types I see running around here."

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I could tell after the initial exposure, she was thoroughly enjoying all the attention and compliments. They never did finish the game, but continued sitting there nude and semi-nude well past their amended five minute rule chitchatting and harassing one another. After an hour or so had passed, one guy began talking about going out and finding an all-night massage joint, mentioning that he had heard that if you tip really well you might get lucky. Donna immediately told them that if they got behind the wheel of a car in the shape they were in they would most certainly regret it, but they insistently kept rambling on about it.

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Finally one of the guys said, "Let's stop talking about and just do it." He rose up and began scanning the room as he put his shorts and T-shirt back on, feeling his pockets and looking around the floor.

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Donna then mischievously said, "You're not getting the keys," as she jumped on the sofa and pulled her bikini top off fully exposing herself.

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He immediately began laughing replying, "Ok, what did you do with them?"

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Donna put her left hand behind her back acting as if she had them when he playfully knelt on the sofa beside her, and jokingly began tickling her. As he did, I can't tell you what a maximum turn on it became watching Donna tightly clinching her legs together while raising her feet off the floor. As she did, it exposed her beautiful bare ass and pussy, and I knew several of them had to see it from where they were sitting.

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She kept repeating as she playfully shoved with her right hand and blocked his hands with her knees, "No you can't have them; you're going to thank me tomorrow. You can't have them, you're all too drunk."

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After a short while watching, I became wildly turned on by it, eventually blurting, "I know how you can get the keys."

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He turned and joking said out of breath, "Hurry, tell me please. God she's strong."

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One third of my reply was the alcohol talking, while the other two thirds was my overwhelmingly intense fantasy speaking, when I uttered, "You're just not reaching in the right spots."

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He quickly laughed saying almost out of breath, "I can't get to her hand, she's fucking strong as hell."

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I then replied, "Tickling won't get them, but groping might!"

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Donna's mouth dropped slightly as she replied with a half-smile, "Oh, nice, Scott, you just told a guy to grope your wife. Do you want to see them drive like this?"

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I slammed back the rest of my drink and said, "No, I just wanted to see him grope you."

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After staring at me for a reaction, she grabbed his hand and placed it on her breast, asking me "How's that, honey? Guess what? He still doesn't have the keys."

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All but one of the guys began nervously laughing, putting their shorts back on and gathering their things, with one chuckling as he exited the door, "Hey if you get the keys and she doesn't kick the living shit out of you, we'll be back in the room, come get us."

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The one inebriated guy, Brian, who stayed behind, quickly began laughing telling his friend Dan, who by the way nervously still had his hand held to Donna's breast, "Um, I don't think the keys are on her boob. You might want to keep looking."

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Now if you remember, Donna's entire mental makeup won't even allow for her to back down. She would even fuck this guy to keep him from driving at that moment. Right or wrong, I began exploiting it to the fullest. As much as I love her, she's absolutely mental when trying to prove a point, and with the amount of alcohol she had consumed it was enhanced by a factor of ten, so either way, she was as likely to let him feel her entire body as she was to kick him across the room. What she hadn't counted on however, was my ever growing erotic desire to escalate it into watching one or both guys put their hands on her. It kept running through my mind as my cock engorged. My fantasy was progressing in leaps and bounds. I had fantasized about several of them fucking her while I watched. I rose up and walked towards the bed. As I did, I walked to the opposite side of the young man knelt beside her and moved up towards her head.

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As I walked, I could feel my half-swollen cock between my legs and managed to move in such a way that, thank God, it fell along the left side of my shorts. My mind began processing a million thoughts per second. As I got to the top of her head, I playfully grabbed her arms, pulling her left hand from behind her back and pinned both hands back to the cushions.

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She instantly said, "Ok, there, see I don't have your keys."

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Midway through her saying it, I playfully put both her arms between my legs and tightly held them. I then reached with my right hand and fumbled for a second between her legs, when after finding her pussy, I quickly inserted my middle finger inside her. I then removed my right hand from her crotch and pulled at the underside of her right thigh trying to spread her legs. She continued clenching her legs together, as this guy Dan, the one who was tickling her for his keys, began moving down toward her feet. As he got to her feet, he playfully put his hands on her knees as if trying to spread them. This went on for about thirty seconds when I finally grabbed behind her ankles and pulled both her feet up towards me. As I did, he quickly stepped off the end of the sofa, instantly throwing his shorts down, and climbed back on the cushions. By this time it was plainly obvious what I was trying to make happen.