Anna, my lovely wife looks around the table at a group of our friends who have come for dinner and to be regaled with stories of our doings and screwings. We meet at each couples home much like a book club but the hosts have to provide not only dinner but also at least one risqué story, two if possible.
"As you know I went away for 10 days and hoped to have a really luscious story to tell you. There were two guys who looked like they could provide some good coupling, but they were terribly unimaginative so my story is rather bland compared to Mike's story. I will leave it up to him to narrate the story."
"You went away for 10 days and didn't get laid?" William asks looking shocked.
"The only interesting thing that happened was that I got spit roasted but they refused double penetration. A pity, but you can't win them all. Let Mike tell his story. It is far more interesting! "
"Well, I found myself with nothing interesting to do on the approaching weekend so I contacted my friends Dave and Freda and invited myself over for the weekend. They happily agreed so on Friday afternoon I drove up to the small town where they live, arriving after 7. When I arrive Dave gives me a large glass of wine "for the road" as he says "we have a hard evening of viewing art around town." looking very enthusiastic.
"Your timing is excellent." he says " We are picking up Mary in about 10 minutes. She is coming with us because her husband is away and she doesn't want to go alone to the art exhibition."
"Keep your nawty hands off her" says Freda grimly "I don't want you to get up to mischief with her. She is not that kind of woman."
Dave just winks at me.
We pick up Mary. She has this wild hair and it fascinates me. I immediately I want to touch it and then the rest of her body in rapid succession. Freda glares at me and Mary keeps well clear.
The first house we visit has a fine selection of wine and what my art friends would call Kitsch Deco art.
The artist is a plump, cheerful woman whose husband hovers uncomfortably behind the bar serving liberal doses of wine to anyone who gets close enough. He sees in me a friendly face and we talk about fishing and rugby while Dave, Freda and Mary ooh and ah over the paintings.
"Ag, it makes her happy and she usually sells quite well so she can spoil the grand-kids. Here let me fill your glass." We stand and watch as they progress around the room.
After a while we head onto the next place and the art there is more interesting. The artist is a tall, thin, intense man whose influences are the early surrealists.
"Interesting. He has been studying Carrington." I remark to Mary while studying a painting of a bird like creature eating a Great White Shark.
"Very masculine. Muscular. Dominant."
A good crit of the work, but the words are loaded with double meanings. Mary is standing very close to me, her hair tickling my cheek, hip brushing mine. I glance down at her breasts and see her nipples are clearly visible, erect. We look at each other and I can see trouble ahead.
Freda is suddenly there between us.
"Cummon lets go. Angela's sculptures are next. "
Taking Mary's arm she heads on out the door. The smirk on Dave's face is bordering on pure wickedness. I swear he knows what has just happened.
I open the car door for Freda and she gets in ignoring me completely. I close the door gently. Turning I see Mary waiting for me to hold the door for her. The shy, ordinary woman is gone. Her head is tilted to one side, a beautiful smile lights up her face and she is oozing sexuality. She slides into the car looking as if she is expecting me to grab her then and there. Unable to stop myself, I touch her hair lightly, brushingly, sensually. Her eyes are on my face, pupils dilated and lips parted. I feel the lust in me start to rise and see her react to that surge. I snatch my hand back, close the door and go around to the other side of the car. I pause to catch my breath, trying to regain an ounce of control.
"Cummon Mike! Get in. You can't stand there all night."
Dave's mocking voice propels me into the car. Freda looks back at me and I see something I didn't expect to see. Amusement.
"She knows!" I think to myself "And she not only doesn't care, but she's turned on by the situation."
The trip to the next place is quick. Too short for me to do more than look at Mary, to see and smell her arousal. I brush my fingers up her thigh and I feel her legs start to part. Taking that as an invitation, I slide my hand up all the way till I find her heat, her wetness, her pussy. She sighs quietly. For the rest of the journey I stroke her pussy but we do not look at each other, possibly shocked by the sudden overwhelming lust between us. When we get to Angela's place, we split up trying, I suppose to maintain the façade of platonic friendship. I don't think we were fooling Freda or Dave though but we all play our parts.
Angela's sculptures are made from "found objects". Bottle tops, broken wine glasses, drift wood, that sort of thing. I am staring at something titled "All Washed Up", an assembly of various bits and pieces collected from the shore and wondering if I took my rubbish bin, shook it vigorously and then immersed the result in resin if it would qualify as art when Mary appears next to me. She smiles at me, nods to the back of the room and says,
"Come, I have something to show you that you may like more than that rubbish."
She blushes faintly and without waiting walks toward a door in the back of the room, fits a key and we slip into a home art studio complete with an easel, a pottery wheel and a table covered in tools and assorted "found" objects aka rubbish. It has a fairly strong chemical smell probably from glues and paint solvents
"Angela is a good, understanding friend. She also hates my husband." she says as she closes and locks the door. Partial darkness descends on us. I hesitate for a fraction of a second as the implications of what is happening slowly sinks in. Yes, yes, I am a bit slow on the uptake. Mary starts to look uncertain and I feel that if I don't move now, we will both back off and I really don't want that to happen. So I take two rapid steps forward and fulfil my greatest desire since meeting her, I run my fingers through her hair, "So beautiful." I murmur. She sways away and I lose contact with her hair, then she sways back and the bush of hair is under my hand again. So sensual, soft, fragile. We stay, our eyes locked, almost frozen until I pull her head toward me. Her mouth is soft, open, and demanding. We go from uncertainty to rampant lust in seconds. Our hands are touching, feeling, stroking, grabbing. Mary is moaning softly in my mouth as her hands stroke my hardening cock. I slide my hands under her blouse and gently caress her nipples which harden under my fingers. I feel my fly zip being pulled down and a hand grasping my cock. I leave her nipples and slide my hand down to between her legs and feel how wet she is. She grinds herself against my hand in rhythm with the movement of her hand on my cock which rapidly driving me to the point of no return. I have visions of us emerging from a closed room with ropes of my cum dripping off her clothes but she is well ahead of me on that thought, dropping to her knees and taking my throbbing cock in her mouth. The sudden change pushes me over the edge and I pump hot cum into her mouth. She swallows everything I can give her, rises to her feet and kisses me. I can taste my cum in her mouth.
She runs her finger across my lips, "My, but you are well hung. It's my turn next and I am looking forward to that lovely cock of yours."
She rearranges her hair, refreshes her lip stick and heads for the door.
"I am going out now. Zip up, wait a minute or two, then come on out. And do try to act as if I was only showing you Angela's studio, not blowing your brains out."
She smiles and leaves the room while I try desperately to regain some control and dignity. Not easy.
When I do emerge Mary and Angela are nowhere to be seen. Freda and Dave are well ensconced behind the bar and serving out glasses of wine with liberal hands. Freda sees me first, nudges Dave in the ribs and treats me to a vicious glare. Dave whispers in Freya's ear and she glares at him instead. I accept a glass of cheap red wine from Dave and make positive noises about "found" art
"What did you do with Mary in the studio?" Freda looking fierce. "You are both married!"
"She showed my how to shape things. And we did things that married people normally do when they have a bit of privacy." I try to look innocent and fail miserably. Of course it doesn't help that Dave is grinning at me over her shoulder. I do manage to keep my face straight though. She stares at me aggressively until Mary's arrival eases the tension. Mary slides her arm through mine and smiles sweetly at Dave.
"What does a woman need to do to get a drink around here. Showing visitors around is such thirsty work."
And completely unexpectedly Freda bursts out laughing.
"You slut! What is Johann going to say?"
Mary looks troubled for a moment.
"He may be a bit upset. I didn't get a video and he does so like my videos."
