Fifty Shades of Pink
My wife is not what you'd call classically beautiful, but she does happen to be one of the sexiest women I've ever known. More importantly, she loves sex. From our very first date, the first night I spent time with her alone, I knew we would be together for life. Not because Claire was gorgeous, but because we fit so well together. Not because she was the smartest on the block, which I think she probably is. But from that first night, we seemed utterly sexually compatible, which I still believe after eight years. Sex is not all there is, but it certainly a good thing to fill our lives with.
After six years she came up with what she called her Fifty Shades of Pink Campaign, and I understood why she called it "shades of pink." I still don't know how she came up with the number fifty, but the shades, of course, came from the best selling book and pink is the color of engorged pussy lips after sex.
One night last year my sexually audacious wife announced that she planned to fuck fifty guys in thirty days to set her personal record. She pointed out that I could research something I had wondered about a week or so before. When she made her announcement, I smiled, wished my wife well, and kissed her on the lips. What I'd wondered about was whether different guys left her pussy different shades of pink.
I should tell you at this point that Claire and I both have very progressive ideas about sexuality, and that my wife absolutely loves sex--fucking, sucking, showing off her pussy, watching porn, making porn, being fucked, sharing me, and nearly all variations of any of the above. We both feel monogamy in unnatural and are open to each of us having multiple partners.
Our shades of pink, however, have nothing to do with S&M or bondage or domination, so we're not the least bit into that, and our shades definitely aren't gray. Openminded when it comes to sex, we enthusiastically give one another complete sexual freedom. We are, however, about screwing not spanking.
Claire is a fine looking woman, perhaps not beautiful, but she loves to fuck and does it like a virtuoso dancer who perfects her craft. She has, in her twenty-six years, been to bed with lots of men, and I simply don't care what the number is. On our first date together we talked about many things, but mostly sex: about each other's erotic experiences, comparing numbers of partners, she told me about her dildo collection, what we liked done to us and what we enjoyed doing to others. Also that first night we fucked until almost dawn.
Today, twenty-four hours never goes by without us having sex at least once with one another. Rarely does a week pass that one of us doesn't fuck someone else. For me, Claire's the perfect mate. Our sex could not be better.
My wife's body has that head-turning quality that all men get hard over. Her tits are incredible (so ripe and mouthwatering I get erect just looking at them). Her nipples, the size of thimbles, stand out proudly for all to see beneath even the heaviest material. Her wonderfully firm and heart-shaped ass and hard-on-producing body, coupled with the sweetest, most innocent-school-girl face, puts men's hormones in an uproar. Combine that sex-hungry figure with the most alluring smile, and you have an image like most men beat off to. Claire's sexuality, because of seeming so innocent, actually sneaks up on guys, then nearly pulls down their pants and sucks the semen right out of their cocks. My wife looks like a sweet-young thing and fucks like a high-priced whore.
Her best asset, with all those sexual pluses, in her husband's humble opinion, is the most edible pussy any man's ever put a tongue to. That succulent little slit has delicious labs, the sweetest and wettest lips, like syrupy wings of a butterfly, and they splay so perfectly when engorged by arousal or opened by parted legs.
I had one of those eureka moments one evening while we sat in our den with a fellow we'd known in college. He stopped by to visit and I could see a sparkle in Claire's eyes and sexual heat between the two of them. Claire was getting interested in the bulge in our old friend's jeans. "Why don't you give Monte what the housewife did in the video the other night," I said when we were alone. We'd watched a video where a wife had unzipped a male guest's jeans and sucked his cock right in front of hubby. "Remember the video?" I asked.
She nodded, then got that don't-you-dare-challenge-me-to-do what-you-know-I'd-like-to look and went back into the den, knelt down in front of Monte, looked up at him and smiled, then unzipped his jeans and fished out his erect cock. She took it in her hand, admiring it, then, while he was trying to catch his breath, my horny wife put her mouth over the end of our friend's cock and sucked the tip between her lips.
Monte looked terrified, but he watched her suck his rigid cock, grinning sheepishly. He was as hard as a spike, and she sighed, admiring the man-sized cock she held in her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the tip and looked at me. "She likes you," I said in the understatement of the year. Claire sucked and licked the cock of our old friend while squatting in front of his chair, taking his dick all the way to the back of her throat, hesitating at that point, then slowly drawing it out of her mouth, her tongue trailing along the underside of his shaft. It turned me on to watch her suck another man's cock, and I sat smiling.
She sucked him for a good fifteen minutes, sliding up and down his shaft like a pro, tonguing his knob, then she took him by the hand and urged him to his feet. "You like to fuck married women, Monte?" she asked, looking over at me, knowing what I expected her to do. My wife then led a stunned and very pleased old college friend towards our bedroom. He looked back at me, and I nodded and gestured for him to go with her.
"You don't mind?" he asked. I shook my head.
"Claire fucks who she wants," I said just before they disappeared into the bedroom.
Just before they entered the bedroom, he looked back at me, then put his arm around her and smiled. They came out fifty minutes later, smiling like kids with a table loaded with cake and ice cream.
On our first date we talked about monogamy, whether we really believed in it, and I explained that I thought limiting ourselves to one partner sexually was crazy. She agreed and we talked about the possibilities, about what we'd do if we were in a long term relationship. The next week we moved in together and knew from the start that neither of us would be sexually "faithful". It wasn't a condition of our relationship.
Claire loves nice clothes, but she'd rather be nude whenever possible, and around the house she rarely has clothes on if the weather is conducive. Claire is a committed and skilled bisexual, which we discovered when a friend of hers came for a weekend visit. I knew she loves being fucked and adores sucking cock as much as possible, but neither of us knew until that weekend that she loved eating pussy as well. Right after we moved in together we each began having sex with other people. We'd joke about how unconventional our marriage would be if we ever got married. "Those silly people who only have sex with each other," I'd say.
"It's just sex," she'd say with a laugh after screwing a new partner, or sucking off some other guy, "I just want as much of it as I can get."
We were the perfect match. I never had trouble at all with the idea of other guys fucking my wife, especially if I was equally engaged in sex on the side. It was after we got married that she made her "fifty shades pledge," betting me she could fuck fifty different guys in one single calendar month. I knew she could, actually hoped she would, but I took the bet just to spur her along. We bet a trip to the Virgin Islands (which I thought was irony to the highest degree), so no one was a loser.
"Is that sex of any kind with fifty guys, or just fucking? Would that include sucking off a few now and then?" She said "for the sake of the bet" she would only count those who fucked her. Each guy had to actually have his cock in her pussy to count.
"Better wait for next month," I said, excited by the challenge and wanting to egg her on. "This one has only 28 days. March has 31 days to work 50 cocks into your pretty little pussy." She bragged she could do it in a weekend, if she wanted, but said she'd work up to it gradually.
"Fifty is my goal," she said pushing her pussy against my cock, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me passionately. "Fifty different cocks in 31 days. What a glorious thought."
The year had gone pretty well, with each of us enjoying outside sexual activities on a regular basis. I regularly fucked a handful of women, but one night after she returned from a fucking session with one of her lovers, I went down on her and found it terribly exciting to think I was eating her pussy after another guy had had his cock between those labia. It even made it more exciting to consider the possibility that he'd come in her. That exhilarated me more than I could believe.
I then discovered that her pussy looked a lot redder than it had the last time I ate her. She had been with a dude named Jason, but I just ate her pussy and enjoyed what I was doing, not mentioning the deep redness of her snatch that night.
