This story is a continuation of an earlier story of mine "THE SHED". It works well as a stand alone story, but you will understand the references throughout if you read "THE SHED first.
Feedback is really important, so please rate my work, and leave comments or send feedback. I hope you enjoy it!
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Claire lay on her back, lightly stroking her nipples, cum oozing out of her swollen, used pussy. She had just had the shit fucked out of her.
"What a great start to the year." she thought as she stretched out on her bed.
Her thoughts went back to earlier in the night...
Claire's New Year parties were legendary. The house was packed. She was surrounded by friends, welcome guests and a few less than welcome guests! But hey, it was New Year.
Everyone was buzzing, cocktails were going down quickly.
The prep work for the party had been done earlier in the day, so she had plenty of time to get ready. She always made a big effort for the party and tonight was no exception.
She spent hours getting ready, luxuriating in the bath, washing her long, dark hair. She shaved her legs slowly before moving higher to shave her pussy lips bare.
This was a ritual, and even though her husband didn't appreciate the effort, she kept them smooth as they were more sensitive...for her own...er....benefit.
Her husband wasn't the most passionate individual at the best of times, and when he graced the home with his presence, he seemed more interested in the TV than exploring her shaved pussy. But that was fine. She knew exactly what to do to keep herself satisfied.
Once she was done, stepped out of the bath, rivulets of water tracing her curves, running smoothly off her full breasts.
As she dried herself, she looked appreciatively at her reflection in the full length mirror. Her hair hung like dark, mane down her back. Her full breasts moved heavily as she dried them, her nipples stiffening to thick nubs as the soft towel moved over them.
Her tits swung forward as she leaned forward to dry herself, one leg raised on the bath edge. She couldn't help looking back as she did this.
Her legs were smooth and shone as she ran the towel down them.
From this angle she could see her pussy lips glisten wet between her legs. She couldn't resist putting her hand between her legs to stroke her shaved lips.
They were perfectly bare, thick and soft. She shuddered as her fingertips traced the outline of her favourite place.
Her pussy was framed by a perfect, peachy bum. She had an arse any 34 year old woman would be proud of. Not small by any means, but who the fuck wants a small arse on a woman?!
Her big arse was the perfect competition for her big tits, and the guys she caught checking her out, and she caught them regularly, seemed to be split 50/50 between them.
It was always a thrill recognising someone was checking out her assets. And it was more of a thrill when they suddenly realised she was looking at them, looking at her.
There was that fleeting moment of sexual frisson followed by the embarrassment. Or not! Some guys held her eye just a little too long.
They were the ones that found their way into her many wank fantasies. A look, a second thought, before she was pulled into a pub bathroom, or the back of a car in a shopping centre car park, and fucked senseless.
She moved through to her bedroom – her sanctuary. It was simple but luxurious. Dominated by a huge wooden bed, fluffy pillows and a silk duvet over the world's comfiest mattress.
Her outfit was already laid out on the bed. A lot of time, and money, had gone into this evening's attire.
She cupped her breasts in a beautiful transparent, lace black bra. The cups sharply angled downwards, barely covered her large bumpy areola.
Next she slid a pair of sheer, seamed hold-up stockings with a thick lace band up her smooth legs, taking time to ensure the seams were perfectly straight.
She finished her underwear off with a matching pair of black lace panties. You could just see her neat triangle of dark pubic hair through them.
Finally she slipped on a paid of impossibly high satin black and diamante heels.
Her friends called them her "fuck-me" heels, and they were right. They weren't designed to be walked on. They were designed to be bouncing over some guys shoulders as he ploughed into her.
She completed her makeup, sitting at her dressing table, semi-naked, legs crossed. She liked the way her stockings slid over each other, causing the friction of skin on skin to be heightened between her thighs. False eyelashes, smoky eye shadow and cherry red lipstick were the perfect look for her outfit.
Claire stood up, turned round and looked at Stage 1 in the full length bedroom mirror.
She liked what she saw. She REALLY liked what she saw.
Long, shiny, thick dark hair cascaded over a pair of perfectly framed tits, nipples just visible through the material. Thigh-high stockings showing just enough flesh to frame her perfect little pussy.
She stood with her hands on her hips, shoulders back, tits jutting out, legs slightly apart and took herself in. "I look like a slutty superhero", she thought.
Super Slut at your "service!"
Finally, she pulled on a black silk, very low cut, backless dress, which clung in all the right places and finished midway down her thighs. She topped this off with a very simple long silver chain necklace, which hung right between her very ample cleavage.
She looked fuckable. Absolutely, totally, completely fuckable.
It was the kind of outfit that stiffens a guy's cock in seconds, even with wives and partners in the vicinity.
And with that, the doorbell rang....and the party started.
She was the perfect hostess - Chatty to the girls, flirty with the men.
Even though she knew the chances of her getting lucky with hubby this evening were slim, she knew 100% that some of the men would go home and fuck their wives, picturing her, imagining they were sinking their cocks into their friends wife.
The atmosphere was spectacular from start to finish. She felt liberated. Her lovely mother had offered to take her children for the evening, so she was taking full advantage of it and was already feeling tipsy on expensive champagne.
She felt a hand on her shoulder. "Claire, what a great party. And you look spectacular".
It was Jack. An old friend who she was very glad to see. She's known him for years, but they didn't see nearly enough of each other as either of them would have liked.
Jack was handsome. Tall, broad and rough shaven with a permanent glint in his eye. He had on a well fitting black shirt, unbuttoned and a loosely tied tie. It was casual, but effortlessly stylish, as always.
"Jack, you came! It's great to see you." And she meant it. It was always good to see him. He had a way of making Claire feel beautiful, desired and well......fuckable, but without it being uncomfortable.
Both Claire and Jack had partners, and boundaries were not meant to be crossed.
Saying that, in the past they had been crossed. Well and truly crossed.
Whenever they met, there was always a shared memory of an encounter at a party many, many years ago where Jack had unexpectedly fucked the shit out of her in a dark garden shed, behind both of their partners backs. It only happened once, but to this day, it was one of the hottest experiences of both of their lives.
When Jack said hello, both Claire, and her pussy, said hello!
"So where's Missy?" asked Claire, referring to Jacks wife.
"She's tucked up in bed, already asleep. She's got the flu from hell, so she told me to come out and enjoy myself. I got here a while back, but you've been tied up looking after everyone as usual"
"You look spectacular" said Jack. Then he laughed. "I've said that already haven't I?"
"Yeah, but a girl never gets tired of a handsome man telling her she looks good!" Claire replied with a big grin.
"So where's the Doc then? I can't believe he isn't keeping his eye on you every second dressed like that!"
Jacks eyes ate her up! He ALWAYS remembered how good she looked while she was stuffed full of his cock that one time, and the years since then had been great to her. She looked like a woman 100% in the right way.
Jack called Claire's husband the Doc. It was an in joke. Claire let slip once that she called him Doctor Doom because of his negative attitude, and it had stuck.
"The Doctor is currently getting very drunk, with his loser mate, playing fucking video games in the spare room, and not helping me one single bit with the party." Gasped Claire, exasperated with the situation.
"Well, that doesn't make any sense to me. There are much better things he could be playing with right now!" winked Jack, looking directly at her magnificent cleavage.