March Madness 2

I'm not particularly a rabid sports fan, but I'm obsessed with the annual NCAA basketball tournament known as "March Madness." My friend Pierce and I are especially excited about this year's edition because each of our favorite teams received high seeds and have a great shot at making the Final Four. Little did I know how special this year's tournament would actually become.

My wife of 14 years, Barbara, doesn't understand why anyone would want to watch a sporting event in which none of their relatives or friends is participating. She can't fathom why someone would watch golf on TV for hours instead of actually playing golf. She gets it that there are some special events like the Super Bowl or the Olympics -- times when there is real drama or a social phenomenon. She is happy to tailgate with friends at a football game, but never wants to enter the stadium. Fortunately, I get a pass for March Madness with only a modicum of grumbling as I spend hours glued to the high quality images projected on the big screen in my theatre room (don't call it a man cave in front of Barbara).

Barbara's quirkiness about sports is not a big deal to me because she is a nearly perfect mate in every other respect. We are in our late thirties, childless by choice, and both of us have high-powered careers. We met in our mid-twenties - Barbara was already a rising star in client management at the largest ad agency in the region, and I was moving through the ranks of a national CPA firm. Barbara is now a VP and partner in her agency, while I eventually left the national firm to become a partner at a large regional accounting firm where I expect to soon become managing partner. We first met at a charity cocktail party hosted by a mutual acquaintance. She was not immediately impressed with me, but when I offered to help her with a tax issue, she was mine.

Neither of us would win any beauty contests, but we are both fit, intelligent, dress well and expensively and like-minded in many ways. Neither of us like it when someone tries to call us by anything other than our full first names (mine is Kendrick), and we shared an ambivalence over starting a family. We don't have any outstanding features, with the possible exception of my blue eyes and her legs, but we both have a "put together" look that is classy, stylish and garners respect from our peers. No one falls over themselves to stare at us, but I like to think that observers would admit that we are an attractive couple.

Eventually, our future as a couple was sealed when we discovered that we were wildly compatible and mutually adventuresome in the sack, and that hasn't changed throughout our married life. Early on, we began collecting expensive lingerie, and Barbara always dresses for bed, often parading around ahead of time in high heels to tease me. Sometimes, I act uninterested just to see how far she will go - exposing herself for my benefit really ignites her juices. Several years ago, I bought our first "outfit" to role play with. It was a sexy maid's uniform with fishnet stockings and ridiculously high heels. Barbara tried it on, played the role to the fullest, and we both were enormously turned on, leading to a night of hot rocking sex (not lovemaking). As with the lingerie, our collection of role playing clothes -- outfits, garter belts, wigs, stockings, shoes, boots - grew exponentially. Eventually, we turned a room off our bedroom (the one that would have been the nursery for the children we decided not to have) into a huge closet devoted to our fetish. At least twice a month, we spend an entire night devoted to our games.

As the role playing expanded, "Barbie" (remember, I mentioned that Barbara disliked any diminutive of her name?) emerged in our role plays. She surprised me by referring to herself as Barbie, and I quickly discovered that this was her way of taking the role play to a level that allowed her to be different, a person who would have to do what I told her and be taken however I pleased. This was the normal pattern, but, sometimes, Barbie also demanded, and got, what she wanted from me. Whatever the intent, it's always special when Barbie comes out to play.

Just as the role playing began to flourish, Barbara made two decisions -- since we had decided to not start a family, she wanted her tubes tied, and, while she was under from that procedure, she wanted breast enhancement -- not gigantic bolt-ons, just a modest insert to "pick up the slack." I was all for the tubal ligation, but I had reservations about the enhancement. Barbara convinced me it was about her own self-image and how she looked in clothes, and, like it or not, she had to face up to gravity taking a toll. As it turned out, the enhancement was barely noticeable (in her clothes that is) since she replaced all of the "miracle bras," "wonder bras" and other support systems that pushed her breasts up and made them appear as large as they now were totally on their own. It was fun shopping for the replacements and enjoying the new look. An added bonus was that her nipples now protruded a little more with a slight upward rise that looked awesome in the shelf and demi-cup bras I bought for her by the boatload. Barbie also loved her new look and our closet grew. We even added a "tool section" that housed an impressive collection of sex toys and devices (but no movies -- not our thing). Life was, and is, very good. We still engaged in our regular lovemaking, but dress-up days were for experimentation and sex at a more primal level. All of our games have taken place in private, and, as far as I know, neither of us had discussed with anyone what we did in the privacy of our own home. This was soon going to change.

Pierce's and my excitement about the basketball tournament resulted in an equal and opposite reaction in Barbara and in Pierce's wife, Mildred (as with Barbara and me, don't call her anything but her full name). They knew that they were to become basketball widows in a worse way than usual. Barbara enjoyed Mildred's company - they had become as good friends as Pierce and me, and she was glad they could talk to one another while Pierce and I obsessed over the games. The fact that they had given us a pass to watch the games could not prevent some resentment from bubbling up. The first round of games was on a Thursday, with winners moving on to games on Saturday. Pierce's favorite team, our local metro university, and my favorite team, the state university that is the local team's fiercest rival, were in different regions and could not play each other until the championship game, assuming both made it that far. By quirk of the draw, both of our teams played on the Thursday/Saturday schedule, making it easier to watch the games together, but also focusing our attention away from our wives. Starting late Thursday afternoon, we settled into my state-of-the-art theatre seats while our wives watched from a sofa that sat on a raised platform behind our seats. Barbara and Mildred tried to make small talk with us during the game and kept asking questions, but we gave short answers or ignored them. Then they tried making fun of our obsessive devotion by saying ridiculous things to see if we were paying any attention (we weren't) or trying to get a rise out of us by one telling the other something like "Pierce has a 4" penis" or "Kendrick can't get it up anymore" and then saying "Isn't that right darling?" They were like two-year olds acting out to get their parents' attention, so we ignored the banter, knowing that jumping in would only accomplish their purpose. I'm sure that they wanted our teams to lose, but that was not likely since our teams were playing low seeded teams that we easily beat, and both moved on to Saturday.

Saturday's games were again in the late afternoon, and, as it was now the weekend, Pierce and I expected to consume a large quantity of beer and buffalo wings as we watched. Thankfully, the girls let us watch the first game in peace, an easy victory for Pierce's team. Between games, we refreshed our food plates, grabbed a cold one and returned to watch the analyst's take on the keys to my team winning the next game. Our attention was jolted by shouts of "excusez-moi s'il vous plait," "excusez-moi s'il vous plait," as Barbara and Mildred entered in full French maid regalia. Mildred wore the original maid outfit that stared it all with Barbara and me -- a sleeveless, one piece, short black and lace dress with a deep V neck that was laced together to show generous cleavage, that was enhanced by a lacy demi-cup bra. The outfit included a lace choker, elbow length, fingerless gloves and a frilly maid's hat. Her black, thigh-high stockings were held up a black garter belt and featured lacy white bows at the top. The dress was short enough to show a healthy amount of her creamy thighs above the top of the stockings. Barbara had also outfitted her with a short, platinum blond wig with long bangs, and shiny pumps with 5" heels in which she tottered slightly. The picture was completed with false eyelashes, heavy make-up and cherry red lipstick drawn on to make her lips look more heart-shaped. She was a sight, and I almost didn't recognize her. Pierce's eyes bugged out of his head, and, unlike me, he had no clue where this was coming from. Barbara followed Mildred and was dressed in a more recent acquisition of a sexy maid outfit, a tight fitting halter dress with the mandatory lace apron that was almost backless. The tight bodice of the dress could barely contain her breasts and her nipples tented the filmy fabric within an inch of the top. Her long hair was piled on top of her head, with just a few wispy curls framing the side of her face. From behind, I really liked the combination of her bare graceful neck melding with her exposed back. Barbara's skirt was a little shorter than Mildred's, exhibiting nicely her back-seamed fishnet panty hose that led down to her own stiletto pumps. From behind, it appeared that she was wearing only a short skirt sandwiched by a toned back and beautiful long legs. The combination of the big hair and high heels made her appear 8-9 inches taller than her normal 5-8.

The girls flitted around randomly brushing objects with their feather duster, occasionally leaning over at the waist to give us a better view of their assets as our eyes roamed from one to the other. I saw that Pierce was about to say something and gave him the "hush" signal and mouthed the word "wait." Soon the girls grabbed some of our empties and wiggled out of the room giggling.

"What the hell was that?" asked Pierce. I answered, "it looks like Barbara has introduced Mildred to the closet." I then blew Pierce away by briefly explaining the role play games and our extensive closet that has hitherto been private. Pierce said that he had never seen Mildred that hot and he was ready to jump her bones right then and there. Seeing Barbara like he'd never seen her stoked his fire even hotter. I asked him to follow my lead and promised that this could get much hotter for both our wives and us. He agreed to play it cool, and we started watching the basketball game again, feigning disinterest in the maids.

Soon, the hot maids returned, acting coquettish and wagging their rear ends like a bunny rabbit in heat. I got Barbara's attention and asked her name -- "Je m'appele Barbie," and then I pointed at Mildred -- "Je suis Millie." I immediately thought that Barbara must have let Mildred in on the fun of being a different persona, and concluded (correctly, I learned later) that it was time for the games to begin! I then shouted "Aha! I thought so -- you are just the ones we were looking for! I am Monsieur Kendrick, the owner of this establishment and this is Monsieur Pierce, the manager. We have had beaucoup complaints about you two, especially for your work in the VIP Theatre Room. We came here to evaluate you for ourselves." "Nous somnes desolee" [we are sorry] answered Barbie, "que devons-nous faire?" [What must we do?]. "For starters, this room is a mess -- remove the rubbish and bring us more food and wine, and do it tout suite!" Barbie and Millie grabbed our empty plates and bottles and exited quickly muttering "oui, oui" and "pardon moi" multiple times. After they left, Pierce grinned knowingly to me - he understood the game.

It wasn't long before our lovely maids returned, smiling brightly and carrying a tray of food and a bottle of wine. Setting them down carefully, they looked for our approval. I let a scowl come over my face and said "this is all well and good, but I just noticed that your uniforms are wrong -- that is not the proper attire for the VIP Theatre Room. Mademoiselle Barbie, the top of your uniform is sitting too high. It must be pulled down enough for your nipples to protrude over the top. And you, Mademoiselle Millie, where did you get the idea that drawstrings were permitted in the bodice of your uniform? These must be removed. Also, I suspect that you may be wearing panties, another forbidden item, and Pierce and I must inspect you. Bend over in front of us." When Barbie bent over, I rubbed my hand over her pubic mound and slipped a finger through one of the spaces in her fishnets to "inspect" for the panties I knew were not there. The crotch of her fishnets was soaked, and my finger soon located the source of the moisture, working it a little and then brushing her clit on the way out. Pierce acted similarly and reported he found a forbidden undergarment, a tiny g-string that he demanded Millie remove immediately. I was a little surprised to see how slowly and sultrily she removed it, and by the generous flash she gave us of her very moist sex. She smiled (was it a smirk?) and gently placed the soaked g-string into Pierce's outstretched palm as if it were a precious object, gently closing his hand over it. I told them to correct the uniform errors and return promptly for another inspection.

Pierce leaned over and told me I was a freaking genius. He had never seen "Millie" so turned on and his own dick could crack walnuts -- he needed some relief, and I said he would get it when they returned. I loved the games that Barbie and I played, but I had to admit that the effect was amplified by another couple joining in. I formulated a simple plan to take our game to its final level.

Barbie and Millie returned for their inspection and Pierce and I made sure it was very thorough. First, each of them twirled slowly at my command. Then, I began Barbie's inspection, noting that she had not only exposed her nipples, but had pulled the front of her dress down and tucked it below her breasts, showing all. She bent over at the waist to give me an up close view, and only superb self-control kept me from burying my face in them. I did pinch and pull on her already hard points, elongating them further while I involuntarily squirmed in my chair. Barbie then moved over to Pierce for another review while Millie stood proudly in front of me with her shoulders back and her hands on her waist. As I expected, the removal of the drawstrings resulted in her dress falling to the sides of the deep V neck, and exposed her breasts except for the slight coverage provided from her demi-cup bra. I ogled the first areolas and hard nipples that I had seen live in 14 years other then Barbara's. Millie sensed her advantage, leaned over and pushed her breasts within an inch of my face, almost daring me to touch them. She was a quick learner, and now I was anxious to check her other required uniform change - i.e. no panties. I motioned for her to show me the proof. Standing directly in front of me, she slowly raised her skirt and then took one of her legs and placed it on top of a coffee table beside her, causing her inner labia to part for my viewing pleasure. She then slowly rubbed her fingers over the slit expanding it further. Thank goodness she didn't lick her fingers or I may have come in my pants right then.

I glanced over at Pierce's inspection of Barbie and was greeted with her bending over, grabbing her ankles, with her rear end pointing at Pierce. She then pulled down her panty hose enough to expose her crotch, proving to him that she had not added the forbidden panties. Barbie's shaved lips (which are always prominent, even when she is not turned on) were on display, and, while still bent over facing away from Pierce, she reached back between her legs, lewdly parted her lips, and then calmly replaced the fishnets to their original position.

Their obviously orchestrated display had swayed control over to the sexy maids. They joined arms in front of us and asked "avons-nous réussi votre examen?" [have we passed your test?] Since so much blood had drained from my brain to between my legs, I hesitated before saying "You have done well, tres bien. But your offenses are very serious, and we must be sure that you will never disappoint our establishment again. Therefore, I've decided that you must let Monsieur Pierce have his way with Mademoiselle Millie while I enjoy the pleasure of Mademoiselle Barbie. You must submit to us or your employment will be terminated. If you are good to us, you will receive raises and a bonus." Each of them slowly nodded their heads, with Barbie saying "s'il vous plaît soyez gentil avec nous" [please be gentle with us].

Pierce and I had the same idea -- we wanted to taste the juices now freely dripping down the sexy maids' thighs. Pierce guided Millie to her back on the theatre chair and raised her legs high over his shoulders as he knelt in front of her. He admired the view before him and gently licked his way up her thigh, enjoying the flavor. Before he plunged into her sex, he whispered to her "Millie, you are the most desirable and beautiful woman I've ever known and I can't wait to ravage you now and often." Millie moaned loudly as Pierce's tongue entered her.

Barbie's rear view was extremely enticing, so I bent her over at a 90 degree handle facing away from me, with her hands grasping a shelf for support. Like Pierce, I enjoyed the view, rubbing my hands up and down her beautiful legs and squeezing her ass roughly, making her shudder with anticipation. I brought my hands to her waist as if to pull down her fishnets, but I dropped my hands to her crotch, gripping both sides of the fishnets and ripping an opening to her engorged vagina. Barbie gasped and her head flew back in surprise. I wasted no time, pulling her now bare ass cheeks apart while greedily lapping at her slit and her rosebud, and lightly chewing and pulling on her inner lips. I inserted two fingers easily into her and alternately massaged her g-spot and clitoris while desperately trying to insert my tongue as deep as possible in both her openings. To get a better angle of attack, I reversed my position, now facing her gaping vagina where I could work her clit with my tongue while pulling her ass towards me. Whenever I hit the best spots, Barbie thrust her hips into my mouth, searching for more friction. As her thrusts became more frequent, I lubricated my forefinger with her juices and inserted it into her anus while placing my thumb into her sex, pushing them in and out while squeezing them together. I then concentrated on her clit as Barbie bucked her hips, driving my fingers into her as she rocked back and my tongue to her clit as she moved forward. As this rhythm continued, I sensed Barbie's breathing quicken and her movements became more erratic. Suddenly, she removed one of her hands from the shelf and pushed my head into her as she came with a groan that evolved into a scream as she continued to grind on my face. After a brief respite, I continued to lap at her clit while inserting several fingers and soon she was coming again, albeit milder this time.

Millie and Pierce were a little rougher as Millie aggressively pulled him to her snatch, grinding on him and saying nasty things that I never would have imagined coming from her. Pierce used his fingers as well as his tongue and nose to please her. When Barbie came, Millie could hold out no longer, loudly announcing her pleasure.