A slutty wife cheats on her husband after being pushed by him. In the end she loves being a slutty cheating wife... even more than she could have imagined.
If you are under 18 or offended by sexually oriented material, stop right here. Do not read the rest of this message.
WARNING: Sexually Oriented Material Follows. Adults only.
Convention Town Girl
By Ms. Screwloose
Part 2 (MMMF wife, fictionalized, but only slightly)
The next time I saw Stan was at the company's Christmas party at Tom's office. This is a big shindig, with all the major clients invited. Stan, of course, was on the list, and was in fine form that night. He was delighted to see me, naturally, and spend a lot of time with Tommy and me. As I suspected he might, he touched me a lot. His hands were on my arm, my waist, my back, sometimes on my butt below the waist. But he was discreet and didn't do anything unusual in front of other people in the company. Tommy noticed, and he encouraged it again. Of course he would. He was using me to cement an important business contact, and it turned him on no end to be reminded that Stan had got into his wife's pussy, even though he thought it was only with fingers.
At one point, Stan steered me into an office that was empty and dark, and he was all over me. I resisted a little, but I didn't want to make a fuss. Any scene here would be a disaster. At the casino, Stan and I were anonymous. Here, I'm the wife of a partner, and he's an important client. So I can't really make any noise or run out of the room suddenly. He took my indecision for acquiescence and really turned it on. He kissed me hard and held me hard, and felt my breasts, and got under my dress to the bare skin above my stockings. I had worn stockings that night because Tommy asked me to, and it made me feel sexy. I didn't realize how much more vulnerable I would be to other advances because of them. But here I was, in a dark room, Stan's hand cupping my crotch, his fingers kneading into the lips of my pussy. And I was getting wet, too. As much as I didn't want this, I did want it. I stopped struggling and let him get his hand into my panties and a couple fingers inside me. I jerked my hips, almost involuntarily, to get his penetrating fingers deeper inside me. Betraying any good judgment I had left, I pushed my cunt down on his hand, fucking his hand, and moaned my delight into his kiss.
After a couple minutes, he pulled out and licked his fingers. "I love your juice, but we can't stay away from the party too long. Later." And he left. I waited a minute, straightening out my clothes, and then left the office. When I got to the ladies room, I noticed that I was still a bit rumpled. I hoped no one else noticed.
Tom did notice that I was missing for a while, and that I was not completely fresh looking, and wanted to know if I was feeling okay. I told him that Stan had come back for some more play, but much more aggressively than before. Tommy was mainly concerned about appearances, rather than what Stan might do with my body. "Be careful not to let anyone see anything. We can't afford a scene, or even a rumor."
Stan found us then, and introduced me to his VP of marketing, Ken, a younger guy about Tom's age, and very cute. The four of us were off in a corner, so no one else could really see what was going on. Stan decided to play some more. He put his hand right on my ass while talking to Ken, who was on the other side of me. I shivered and shuffled my feet nervously. Then he went further. He pulled my skirt up in back and wormed his hand between my legs, right up against my panties. Jesus, what is he doing? I could hardly slap him or remove his hand without being noticed. I couldn't even just walk away because my skirt was up so far in back. No one could see my predicament except Stan on my left, Ken on my right, and Tommy standing right in front of me. He couldn't see exactly where Stan's hand was, but is was clear it was under my skirt and on my butt.
To make matters worse, Ken took this as an invitation and felt my other thigh, up to the top of the stocking and above, until his hand met Stan's. I just met this man ten minutes ago, and he takes these liberties. Had Stan told him that I was available as a sex toy for clients? Does the company president pass off his sex toy as a perq for his favorite VP?
Tom knows that something is up. I down my drink and swap for his, which is full. I look at him uncomfortably, he knows I don't want to do this but I can't find a way out. His eyes plead with me not to do anything that might upset these gentlemen. I remembered the conversation in the casino bar the first night Stan came on to me.
"Do you want him to feel me up?"
"If he wants to, well, yes, I want him to be able to do that."
"You want me to *let* him feel me up?"
"Yes, sure. I don't want to make a big deal over it."
"All over? You want him to touch me anywhere?"
"Sure, let him. Touchy-feely anything."
The last time, he left before the touching had gone beyond a hand on the knee. Well, this time, he was going to see what that really entailed. They were really going to feel me all over, and I couldn't do a damned thing about it at this party without ruining my husband's career. And our fancy lifestyle.
Ken asked me to dance. I thought that I would be getting away from most of the groping, so I agreed. Boy, was I wrong. He slipped his hand up onto my breast while we danced. When I didn't slap him for that, the hand went under my skirt. And he was not as careful as Stan. I was afraid that someone would see. He danced me off into the darkest corner of the room, out the door into the hall, and into another empty office. Tom and Stan were both watching as we slipped into that dark office and closed the door.
Once inside, Ken became very aggressive and insistent. I had had enough to drink that my struggles were ineffective, and at that point, I didn't much care anymore. He took my dress off, and my bra, and, while kissing me all over, my panties, my last line of defense, not that they were very substantial. Small, wispy, lacy, mostly transparent. He pocketed them, as a trophy, of course. He pushed me back onto the sofa, lay down between my legs, got inside me, and fucked me for four or five minutes. I almost didn't care.
He zipped up and left, just like that. I hunted around for my clothes, and I found my dress, which wasn't too badly wrinkled, but my bra was gone. I guess he took it as another trophy. Either that, or someone in that office will get quite a surprise on Monday morning. So now all I had was a slightly mussed dress and stockings. No panties and no bra for the rest of the party. I was sure that some of the women at the party would notice.
I found Tom, but he was still with Stan. Stan gave him an "I'd like to dance with your wife, too, wink, wink" brushoff, and Tom didn't have time to step in to object, even if he had wanted to. Don't make waves, right?
He danced me back into the same empty office, and started to make out with me. He was incredibly excited when he found that my breasts were loose, not constrained by any bra. He kissed them, and I loved it. He really does that well. Then he was delighted when he found that I had no panties, either. He put his fingers into me, gently, then roughly, then gently, and thumbed my clit until I started fucking his hand again. With my cunt. Yes, I had a cunt again, hot and yearning to be filled. I came and came, screaming my pleasure into his mouth as he kissed me hard. No one else heard, I think.
When he lay down on the sofa, I knew what he wanted. I lowered my hot, wet cunt onto his cock again, and pumped him slow and fast and slow and fast, teasing and pleasing, until he came hard. I felt the pulsing and the flooding of my insides. I got off him, ran my fingers through my hair, straightened the dress a little, and left to find my husband.
As we got onto the elevator to leave, the cum of two men started to leak out of my honey pot and down my leg. It tickled. And it shamed me. Tommy didn't notice it until we were at the car and I had to wipe some off that had trickled below my knee. "Omigod! Is that. . . ?"
I grabbed his lapel and pulled his face to mine. "Yes, Tommy. You wanted me to be nice to your clients. Well, I was. You saw that. You saw their hands all over my body. You saw them reaching under my clothes to touch me. And you wanted them to. And you wanted me to let them do it. And even to enjoy it, you bastard.
"Stan's cum is running out of me and down my leg. Ken's cum is there, too. They both fucked me tonight and left their loads inside me. You wanted them to, didn't you? You wanted me to let them feel me everywhere and put their fingers and fuckhoses inside me, didn't you? I think you ought to clean it up, since I was so nice to your clients."
He almost threw me in the back seat of the car. He climbed in on top of me, pulled up my dress, and licked my legs clean. He ended between my legs, and licked that clean, too. I came again, screaming in the garage. It echoed all over. I'm sure that anyone else in the garage knew exactly what was going on. Did we have an audience?
But that was okay, because this time it was with my husband. And even old married couples are allowed to be a little frisky around the holidays.
That night we talked about what happened. And the next day, and the next. This opening up, this freedom, this sex-play with other men, this became the most exciting thing that either of us had ever done.