Willing Wife

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Wife seduces him at a party.
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Ashson
Ashson
8,505 Followers

Michael was the owner of a company that my company had started using. We put quite a bit of business his way. Helped see his company through a bad spot, I understand, and he was appreciative of having us as a client. It was a good deal for us as well. We weren't a charity, after all, but we were willing to go with a local who was struggling and he gave us good service at a competitive price.

Towards the end of the year Michael's firm had recovered to the point where he was doing very well. To thank the businesses that had helped him out when he was struggling he threw a party, inviting the upper echelons of the various firms.

My immediate inclination was to decline the invite as I'm not really a big party-goer. I changed my mind when my boss told me that I'd have a great time and that, as he wouldn't be able to make it, I should offer his regrets to Michael personally. I told my boss I hadn't actually intended going. He informed me that he'd already accepted on my behalf and to have fun.

I trotted along to the party and gave Michael my boss's regrets. In turn I was introduced to his wife Barbra and then turned loose to go and socialise.

A few words about Michael and Barbra. Michael was in his thirties, a typical businessman. He was reasonably intelligent and worked hard. Possibly a bit single-minded where his business was concerned. Barbra was in her early twenties, a blue-eyed blonde with a luscious figure, and a born flirt.

After a little while at the party I bumped into Barbra again. She bumped into me, I should say. Quite literally, as I felt the pneumatic compression of her breasts as they squished against my chest. She smiled and apologised, standing way too close for my peace of mind. She didn't move on either, standing there chatting away, her bounteous breasts not quite brushing against my chest as she talked. OK. I have to admit that she waved her hands about a lot while she talked and this seemed to make her breasts bounce about and several times they bounced against me. Was I complaining? Not that you would notice.

Now any red-blooded man who stands next to a hot blonde, feels her breasts brushing his chest, hears her talking to him as if he was the most wonderful man in the room, and does not have a masculine reaction must be a eunuch. By the time she finished talking and moved on to her next victim my trousers were far too tight for what they had to contain. I sort of drifted elsewhere for a moment of privacy and adjusted the contents of my trousers. If a part of my anatomy wanted to stand it was only fair to move it into a position where it could stand.

The party was spread across a number of rooms and I wandered around, networking. Some of the people I knew, some I didn't. I chattered with a few interesting people and met a few bores. I suppose they felt the same way about me. Then I came across Barbra again and my old fella snapped to attention before I even opened my mouth. Fortunately it was now in a position to do that without being needlessly constricted.

Now I'm not quite sure of the next sequence of events. I know I was talking to Barbra when another couple joined us. The four of us quickly devolved into two pair, me talking to the new guy and Barbra talking to his wife. He moved on and I turned around and promptly bumped hard into Barbra in a rather embarrassing manner.

She had turned away from where I was talking to that guy and was bent over the coffee table selecting something to nibble on. I turned and cannoned into her and it was only my quickly grabbing her hips that stopped her from flying across the coffee table. I hastily steadied her and backed away, face rather hot.

Barbra turned and looked at me, giving me an amused feminine look.

"You'll find that sort of thing works a lot better when you don't have clothes in the way," she said softly, laughing at the look on my face.

If you're wondering what she was referring to let me put the pieces together for you. There was me, erection standing tall. There was her with a tight skirt, which just naturally stretched across her bottom when she bent over. There was me with my erection pressed firmly against the crack in her buttocks as she bent over the coffee table, hands on her hips saving her from falling, and also holding her firmly against my erection. There was no way on god's earth that she didn't know what was pressing so intimately against her.

I started stammering out an apology but she just laughed at me, patted me on the cheek, and said, "Later."

Then she started circulating, heading one way while I slunk off in a different direction.

It was later in the evening and I was crossing the hall, going from one room to another, in search of some entertaining company or a drink, when I was called from further down the hall.

"Oh, Rodney, if you have a moment?"

I looked down to see Barbra holding up a hand indicating she wanted me so I sauntered down the hall, trying to look casual, trying to ignore a certain appendage that had jumped to attention again. My immediate response to that woman made me wonder if she bathed in some sort of irresistible pheromones. They certainly worked on me.

As soon as I reached her she promptly invaded my personal space again which seemed to be a habit with her.

"I was just wondering if you still had that little problem," she said softly and before I could wonder what little problem I found out. Her hand landed on my groin and checked out the contents therein, closing around my erection.

"Oh, dear," she murmured. "It appears that you do, and it's not really a little problem is it? I would be most remiss as a hostess if I left a guest feeling uncomfortable."

With that she backed into the room she was standing next to and I just naturally followed her in. With her hand still closed around my erection I felt I didn't have much choice. It would have been rude and insulting to snatch it away from her.

As soon as we were in the room Barbra flicked the door closed and my zip down at the same time.

"It's not right to keep something like this all cramped up," she informed me, expertly extracting my cock from my trousers. "Just look at the poor thing. It's going to need a bit of a massage to get its full strength back."

I had no need to wonder where I'd get the required masseuse. Barbra had already applied for, and accepted, the job. Her hand was rubbing my cock, stimulating it, stretching it. I suspected she was using her hand to measure me, trying to determine how many inches I had. The way she kept checking she apparently didn't believe her first results.

She stroked and stimulated, coaxing my cock to greater heights. I was wondering just how far she was going to go when she changed tactics.

"It's too dry," she told me. "My hand can't slide along it the way she should. You need a little lubrication."

With that she sank to her knees and her mouth closed over me as she started supplying the required lubrication. Her head bobbed up and down as she worked, tongue and teeth supplying loving care. Damn-it-all, I was as hard as a rock. Hard enough to crack coconuts, and still she teased me. This time I knew she was going to keep on until I blew.

This time I still knew nothing. Barbra suddenly stood up and took a step back, leaving me standing there with a cock so swollen it was practically slapping me in the face. She reached down to her skirt and did something and the damn thing just slithered down, pooling around her feet. I was somewhat surprised at this. The skirt had looked so tight I'd have figured it would require several minutes to pull it loose from her hips.

The only thing Barbra was wearing below the waist was a pair of shoes and the tiniest pair of panties I'd ever seen. I mean, these were so tiny that they came under the why-bother category. Not being a complete idiot I knew just what I was supposed to do with those panties. I bravely stepped forward, took a hold of them, and peeled them down and off, Barbra daintily raising each foot to let me slip them off. Possibly I was supposed to drop them on top of her dress but they accidentally fell into my pocket.

"You're a married woman," I said softly. "A beautiful married woman."

She blushed slightly and didn't say anything.

"That means you're being a baaaad girl," I continued. "Do you know what happens to bad girls?"

"What happens to bad girls?" she asked, her voice husky with passion.

"Well, secondly, they get fucked hard."

"And firstly?" she asked, sounding slightly surprised.

"Oh, firstly they get spanked hard," I told her.

"You wouldn't dare?"

"No? Why wouldn't I dare?"

"This room isn't soundproof. People would hear if you spanked me."

Well damn. Strike off option number one.

"I guess I'll have to put that on the backburner," I grumbled. "Are they going to hear if I fuck you most vigorously?"

"Ah, I suspect that will be a lot quieter than having a hand land on my bottom," she said, looking downwards in a demure fashion.

I glanced around the room, finally taking in where we were. In a home office, it turned out. No bed or couch available but there was a desk. I turned her around and had her lean forward over the desk, legs parted and my hand firmly rubbing her mound. She was way past ready and I could feel her quivering slightly as I rubbed her.

First time and all that, so I suppose I should have just eased her lips apart and entered her carefully, making sure she was ready and able to receive me. My attitude was the hell with that. She wanted this just as much as I did and I suspected nice and gentle would be strongly resented. So I parted her lips and drove in hard and fast, plunging fully into her with one magnificent thrust.

From the way she jammed her hand into her mouth to stifle her scream I suspected that she hadn't been kidding about the room not being soundproof. I should point out, though, that while she may have wanted to scream at the rumbustious way in which I took her, she wasn't backward about pushing hard back against me as I entered.

I continued the way I started, hard, fast, full-length stokes, letting her feel my need as I took my pleasure. I banged her hard, setting up a fast rhythm to which she responded in style. I was getting to her right from that first thrust, her excitement building with each second that passed.

She felt marvellous, her body wrapped around my cock in a manner that I truly appreciated. She was hot and needy and I was fulfilling that need. As far as I was concerned I was fulfilling it too well. She was heading rapidly towards a climax and she'd probably drag me along with her. My cock was feeling so sensitive and ready that the first time she gave it a hard squeeze I'd explode. I wasn't ready for that - mentally, anyway.

So I disengaged. Barbra would have screamed in frustration but for the party so close at hand. She was all, "What the hell? What are you doing?"

"I don't know," I said. "These days it's all rush, rush, rush. One must take time to contemplate things."

While I was talking I was turning her around to face me. She was now leaning back against the desk, and I was busy inserting my cock where it would do the most good. She gave a groan of relief, almost immediately followed by a snarl of frustration."

"What are you doing?" she demanded once again.

"I thought it would be obvious," I said. "I'm fucking you."

And I was. Just very slowly. It still felt wonderful where I was concerned. I have no doubt that she was enjoying it, too, but it wasn't the frenetic activity that we had been enjoying. Sometimes you have to take things slowly.

"You call this fucking?" she asked, irritated.

"Certainly. We're not in a race, after all. Even if we were, remember that the tortoise beat the hare."

"Fuck the tortoise and fuck the hare," she told me. "I was almost there."

"I know. That's why the slow down."

She had a few choice words to say to me but they didn't spur me on to greater lengths. Actually, she was already taking the full length. Repeatedly. Let's say I didn't put any extra effort into what I was doing, just continuing on my slow way.

It took a little longer but slowly but surely I built Barbra back up to the point she had reached earlier. She was breathing hard, pleading for that little extra to send her over the edge. I girded up my loins (metaphorically) and pulled out again.

From the colour on her face I thought she might either scream or hit me. I got in first.

"Hands and knees," I snapped, pointing at the floor. "Move it."

Still giving me killer looks she sank down to the floor, head turning to see what I was doing. I was kneeling behind her, rampart cock ready for the coup de grace. As soon as she was properly positioned I was entering her, driving in hard and fast, all restraint forgotten.

"Rabbit time," I told her, and I was now going hell for leather, giving her everything I had as fast as I could. She gave a muffled shriek, trying to stay with me, but then just surrendered, her climax taking over and running away with her.

That was OK. I was also climaxing, spilling my seed and riding her hard for those last few thrusts, feeling vastly relieved to have finished off.

Why was I not surprised to find that the office was equipped with things that could help her clean herself up? And let me wipe the old fella down before putting it away? She had her skirt back on in nothing flat, looking calm and composed, even if she was slightly frustrated at not being able to find her panties.

"I shall, of course, return sometime to deliver the spanking we had to skip," I advised her as we prepared to re-join the main party.

"Over my dead body," she advised me, slipping out the door.

The party seemed to be just a trifle flat after that. I waited until I could catch Michael and Barbra together and intercepted them, letting them know that I was leaving and thanking them for the party.

"Before I go," I said, almost as an afterthought, "What are Barbra's favourite flowers? I feel I should send her a bouquet as a thank you."

Orchids. It figured. Still, I knew where I could get some nice ones. It seemed to me that if I got her an orchid in a pot I'd probably be wise to deliver it myself. One must observe the social proprieties.

Ashson
Ashson
8,505 Followers
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14 Comments
iameaseliameaselalmost 2 years ago

Lordy lordy we have a great example of how someone can take feces and turn it into barely readable literary shit.

26thNC26thNCalmost 3 years ago

An Aston story without a rape?

tazz317tazz317over 7 years ago
THINK AHEAD...PLAN AHEAD

and don't forget the flowers and chocolates, TK U MLJ LV NV

impo_61impo_61over 7 years ago
All this story just arose a question...

All this story just arose a question: Why a man having a whore like her as a wife would had his Company pass through a bad spot? Using her a corporate whore would make his company always on top...1*

LickideesplitLickideesplitover 7 years ago
Hmmmmm!

A potted orchid? Possible, but I would think few flower-mongers prepare them that way, since almost all commercial orchids are epiphytes.

Good to see that Ashson's randy hero finally got rudely accosted himself. But Randy Hero seems to have coped as well as his own previous accostees did!!

Trouble is, the tension generated by a nubile young lady facing such a decision (will she? or won't she?) creates much more drama than this role reversal!

4*. plus, the Title SUX!

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