Peg and I are pretty much your standard every day American couple with the possible exception of our sex life. It is pretty damn exceptional if I say so myself.
I work for a pharmaceutical company doing research and drug design and Peg owns a franchised lingerie store at the local mall. We have a comfortable life.
We have been married now for some 20 years and as I said before, our sex is...Wonderful. Being the kids are both off to college, we have more free time to "explore" than we ever had before.
During pillow talk one night we got on the subject of "spicing" up our sex life. Not to brag or anything but Peg is...Hot. At 42 years old she still has a wonderful figure. More than once she has gotten my fires going by wearing one of the specialty garments, especially some of the bras her store carries. There is this one style, I think it is called a demi bra which holds her 38DDs up high and proud. It is little more than a pocketed shelf enabling her boobs to be held at eye level. Eye level seems to be a variable as it seems whenever my wife is wearing her demi, every fellows' eyes, no matter how tall he is, are absolutely level with her nipples. She is by any standard...A handful and quite a lovely handful both her girls are. They are full ripe and firm. Her cookies are a pale shade of red and they are topped with eraser sized nubs which react wonderfully to both a chill and a touch. Her waist is 26 inches, just 2 inches larger than when we married and her hips are a eye appealing 35 inches. Her buns form that wonderful heart shape when making love doggy style while her full/ripe boobs offer great hand-grips.
Life is good.
One night during pillow talk, Peg said she and one of her sales associates were speaking of a teasing semi-public sex game the sales associate and her boyfriend play. It is an old game but she said it excites them both to no end. She dresses up conservatively in something akin to a business suit. But under her jacket she is wearing a shear nearly see through blouse and under her a-bit-too-short skirt, she is commando. They pick out a non-local dance club as the scene of their game. She enters first, removes her jacket and sees what attention she can generate. Usually within the time for her boyfriend to show up she has a number of local fellows vying to buy her drinks. She accepts their offer.
Some thirty minutes later, her boyfriend appears and also offers to buy her a drink. She also accepts his offer and the game is on. The locals, thinking this new fellow is just another chap also trying to get lucky, continue to vie for her attention. As the drinks keep coming, the sales associate looses a button or two from her blouse with the effect her boobs' cookies are almost, but not quite, on display. She almost lets it get to the touchy feely stage with the locals before she settles on the "new guy". She grabs his hand and runs it across her breasts in front of the locals asking if the new guy likes what she is wearing.
The locals are frustrated but there is little they can do. Soon after she drops her keys and displays the fact she is commando. After the drop showing she is panty-less, she and the "new guy" leave with her right hand in his left front pant's pocket.
She isn't feeling for loose change.
Peg thinks we should try this too. I suggested perhaps I can mix up some date-type pharmaceuticals to allow my wife to become a bit more relaxed during game night. She thought this was a great idea.
We chose Saturday night to travel into the city to a popular but not too wild multi-level dance club. Peg was dressed perfectly. Her business suit had a bit too short flared skirt. Under her jacket her blouse was "daring" to say the least and she was wearing one of those hot-hot-hot demi-bras with a center clasp. She also decided to go commando.
She entered the dance club first and I was to follow in about a half hour. I dropped her off at the front door and then went to park at a local parking garage. While pulling up to the entry, a rather large and lifted pick-up truck was backing up. He never saw my car and the result was a minor fender bender. A local policeman saw the accident and insisted on filling out an accident report. Everyone was nice enough. It was an accident but...The thirty minute time frame for me to follow Peg into the dance club had long since come and gone.
When I finally got to the club, Peg was nowhere to be found. I circled the club a couple of times and finally found what I thought was her jacket on the back of a chair. I pulled out my cell and dialed her number only to hear her phone ring from the jacket. Damn...Where was Peg?
It finally dawned on me to check the second level of the dance club. It took awhile but I finally spotted Peg in a booth with three fellows. She was seated on the lap of one of the fellows. Her eyes seemed crossed. Had she taken the pharmaceuticals? The answer was obvious. Peg was leaning back against this fellow, her blouse was open, her bra was on the table and his hands had a firm hold on her double Ds. On top of that he was moving in a somewhat up down/circular motion. Peg's eyes suddenly got real large for about 15 seconds, the fellow gave one or two more very empathetic movements before becoming very still. The other two fellows were laughing. They helped this fellow remove Peg from his lap, sat her in the corner of the booth and prepared to leave. The fellow on whose lap Peg was sitting, got up, zipped up his pants and then left with his friends. Short of a horse, this fellow had the largest cock I ever saw. On the way out, one of the fellows grabbed her demi-bra off the table most likely to keep as a souvenir.
Peg was out of it. I went to her. She looked at me but I don't think she saw me. I stuffed her boob back into her blouse and buttoned her up. I smoothed out her skirt as best I could. I had to almost carry Peg out to and then into our car. When we got home, I laid her on the bed, took off her cloths and saw a large amount of cum leaking out of her. Cum had run down her legs. Cum had caked in the back of her skirt. There was more cum leaking out of her and on her than I could ever imagine coming from just one fellow.
I took her to the shower, cleaned her up a bit and put her to bed. During all this, she was never really awake and not quite asleep. When her head hit the pillow, she was out like a light.
The next morning, Sunday, I got up at nine and Peg was still dead to the world. Around noon I heard the shower running and by one in the afternoon Peg appeared in the kitchen. She showed me where her boobs were black and blue from being groped/slapped/kissed/ pinched/foddled and even nibbled on. She said she was very sore "down there".
