Another for you Loving Wives fans. Enjoy.
GA -- Benidorm, Spain -- 6th January 2014.
THE GOOD-LOOKING man, dark-haired, dark-eyed and wearing an expensive dark suit sipped coffee and eyed Annabelle over the rim of the cup. She noticed his look and shivered, the ripple of sexual arousal flooding her insides. It wasn't so much the man's wolfish glance that excited Annabelle, although he was a sexy bastard in her opinion, and she'd be happy to open her legs for him if he asked, but her shudder of anticipation was more to do with what the man represented rather than his own allure. Annabelle's body thrummed with expectation, the woman eager for his verdict.
Damon Santori nodded and grinned, sweeping a hand through his mass of curly black hair. "Annabelle," he said, his accent churning her insides. "I think," he continued, the weight of his appraisal causing the woman to squirm. "That, with your age and the way you look..." Damon paused, squeezing the moment, knowing the Englishwoman would be anxious to hear what he had to say. He waved a vague hand and tilted his head, lips pursing. "I think," Damon repeated," that you have very much a certain style."
Annabelle swallowed heavily, throwing a quick glance at her husband next to her. "Style?" questioned Annabelle. "What style?"
"What they call a stocking MILF, Annabelle." Damon placed the coffee cup on the low table in front of him. Then he leaned back and stroked his chin with a thoughtful expression on his face. "There is a market for ladies of a certain, how you say ... maturity." Damon leered at Annabelle. "Especially a lady with such a wonderful figure as yours." He glanced at the laptop next to him on the sofa, an indication of the images stored on the machine. "You have a look, Annabelle, a look that, if we have you dresses properly..." He waved his hand again, searching for the English words to express himself clearly. "If we have you dresses with style, with elegance, qualities which you already possesses, Annabelle, if we have you in the shoes and the stockings -- expensive," he added, waving a forefinger. "Not cheap, Annabelle. If we have you with those clothes, and if we have you partnered with young men ... two, three young men ... then I think we can use you."
Annabelle swallowed again, her pussy pulsing at the prospect of Damon's company using her as a model. She looked from Damon to her husband. "What do you think, James?"
"Oh, God, Annabelle," James Carter croaked. "He's so right. You know I think you look incredible in lingerie, and you know it isn't just me who loves to see you dressed up..." James Carter paused and sucked in a deep breath through his nose. "But it isn't up to me, darling. It's entirely up to you, your decision. If it's what you want to do, and as long as I'm there with you," James pulled a face and gestured expansively with both hands, "I don't mind."
"But, James, two or three men? That's a departure for us."
James couldn't keep the treacly lust from his voice as he replied with, "I think I might like to see you take them on. Especially younger men, Annabelle. Just once, perhaps, to see how it goes."
"Oh fuck," breathed Annabelle, her gaze glazing over, expression wistful as she imaged three hot young studs at her. She blinked and shivered and focussed her attention on Damon Santori. "When?" she asked.
And thus, Lady Annabelle, stocking MILF and a rising star in the world of pornography was created.
*
ANNABELLE AND James Carter were veteran swingers, a couple for nearly two decades. James was fifty-one while Annabelle was forty-three, and their diversion from monogamous married life had occurred eleven years earlier when Annabelle, wealthy, pampered and bored, veered towards an extra-marital affair. However, before she took the plunge into the dangerous waters of adultery Annabelle had confessed to her husband, and, as a result of a long night of emotion, discussion and a litre bottle of rum, they dipped their toes into the calmer waters of swinging.
The current had been strong at first, but the love James and Annabelle felt for each other kept them afloat, both of them adapting to the lifestyle, both agreeing to a set of principles by which they swore to uphold.
Their agreement covered the boundaries by which they would conduct their activities: penetrative sex had to be approved by the other partner; they both had to be present, which meant no solo meetings where a third party might assert any influence, thereby reducing the risk of jealousy corroding their relationship. Repeat meetings were to be limited to prevent or reduce the potential for romantic notions to develop, which might otherwise lead to temptation and subsequent clandestine liaisons, although two or three couples had caused that clause to be relaxed over the years.
One such couple, Niki and Mike from Exeter had been an example of where James and Annabelle had relaxed their ruling, and it had been Niki who had jokingly suggested that Annabelle audition as a porn actress.
"You look gorgeous, Bell," Niki had said when the two couples had met following Annabelle's boob job. "Those tits are amazing ... I wouldn't have known you'd had them done if I hadn't seen them before. You should be in those films, girl. I can just see you fucking on film, you'd look fantastic shagging in the cowgirl position. Your boobs would sell a whole load of DVDs if they were on the cover."
Annabelle had laughed and dismissed the comment as playful banter, but Niki's words had come back to her not long afterwards when Mike had also made a comment, his hands mauling her tits as he crouched low over her back, his cock thick and hard with excitement.
"Jesus, Annabelle," the man whispered as he fucked into her from behind. "Niki's right. You should be in films. You're fucking hot, babe. These tits are absolutely the dog's bollocks. If you need a bloke to shag in front of a camera, Annabelle, I'm your man."
Both Mike and James had paid a lot of attention to Annabelle's breasts that night, even to the extent they insisted on covering her big, round tits with jizm, the two of them tugging away, grunting as semen pumped out of them.
Niki had been right there, kissing Annabelle before leaning in to lick spunk from her friend's skin. Then the lovely West Country girl had slid her tongue into Annabelle's mouth, sharing the cum before smearing gloop over Annabelle's breasts.
After that the suggestion had had lingered in Annabelle's mind, distracting her until she voiced her interest to James.
