The Take-Charge Gal
There’s an old adage in the swinger community that husbands have to drag their wives into the club at 8 PM and drag them back out again at 8 AM. In the new hedonism, reluctant wives and girlfriends become the aggressors, orchestrating ever-wilder sexual encounters to suit their whims, as husbands, boyfriends and strangers offer up stiff cocks as props in the women’s fantasy scenarios. The Story of O had it wrong: even in submission, women have a hand cupped firmly around our balls.
So it was with Linda, the tall, almost Amazon brunette who strutted around last night’s loft party in a short leather skirt and tight, push-up bra. Soon after Leslie and I had flung ourselves onto the lumpy futon in the corner—covered incongruously by a Spider Man comforter—Linda and her husband began to make eyes at us from across the room. Linda pounced, and after a few minutes her husband came to join her. Leslie and I flirted with them coyly, still playing the hesitant newbies. Eyes were obscured in the soft glow of the blue bulbs overhead. We switched to the mattresses in the center of the room. The girls touched, teased and kissed as the men watched. Linda’s pink nipples were pierced, and her soft breasts heaved against my palms, their delicate white flesh spilling out between my fingers. A few feet away a girl knelt on the floor as her boyfriend reclined on the couch. The girl’s head bobbed up and down in tune to the music. Her buttocks heaved against her cherry-printed panties, which were pulled a little to one side and dug into the cleft of her ripe cheeks. Hours later Leslie would be hungrily lapping the last traces of my semen from the cherry-girl’s breasts. I couldn’t have known this at the time, of course.
“Maybe both Leslie and I can suck your cock,” Linda purred in an aside to me. “And I suck a mean cock.” She grabbed Leslie’s hair and made her crawl on hands and knees towards the cage in the corner. The cage closed with a hollow clank as the girls sealed themselves in. They took turns tonguing each other’s crotches. People gathered around to watch. I steadied myself against the exterior of the cage and stuck my erect shaft through the bars, filling Leslie’s mouth as her staccato cocksucking noises began to sound above the pumping house music. “That’s a good girl,” I cooed. Eventually, the girls exited the cage and Linda led me through a curtain into a small side room, where she knelt on the futon, greeting me with an expectant and devilish smile. She pulled down my black boxer briefs and began to make good on her promise. Every lunge of her head propelled my gland against the back of her throat. Her breasts jiggled deliciously with each impact. Linda gazed directly into my eyes, never breaking contact. Taken with the moment, I knotted her curly brown hair in my right fist and gave it a firm tug. She moaned as my erection popped out of her mouth. She tongued the head of my cock, stray hairs matted across her sweaty face as she breathily strained against my grip; she had the appearance of a desperate waif sucking me off in an alley. I smacked her face with my member. She spit on my shaft, which surprised me for an instant, and I loosened my grip just long enough for her to take the whole of me into her mouth again. A trail of saliva dripped from Linda’s chin and splashed against her breasts. Another sticky trail dripped from my balls. There were two cocks in her hands now, and she alternated between sucking her husband’s and sucking mine, furiously jerking whichever cock didn’t receive the lavish attentions of her mouth. Leslie helped Linda with her task, their tongues intertwining at the head of each shaft. I pulled Linda’s thong aside and probed her slippery cunt with a few fingers. Linda gagged a few of times. She wanted to gag. I marveled at her brutality. Her sense of purpose.
Linda offered her ass to her husband and positively roared as she was impaled from both ends. Her moans brought curious onlookers. Two girls parted the curtains and watched for a minute, but in my sex haze I only noticed their finely trimmed bushes. A couple stopped in briefly to view the scene, talking in hushed tones about god knows what. The prodding had become too much for Linda. She uncoupled her mouth from me and I moved onto the bed to tend to Leslie’s pussy. “Let’s eat her together,” suggested Linda, and she repositioned herself for the task, her face getting slammed into Leslie’s crotch with each one of her husband’s thrusts. I mounted Leslie and alternated between long, slow strokes and rapid, pounding thrusts. Leslie orgasmed, the husband’s cock in her mouth, as Linda played with my balls from behind. I was almost ready to come myself. Like most couples do once they reach the point of near-psychic bedroom communication, Leslie and I switched positions without a word between us. I pounded her vigorously from behind as she braced herself on all fours. Linda squatted over her husband and vigorously pumped her crotch against his. With my right hand I reached out and grabbed one of Linda’s firm buttocks, running an index finger over her anus. In the whirlwind of sensations I felt myself starting to come. I delivered the final coup-de-grace on Leslie’s ass, depositing droplets of semen in a sort of spiral cluster.
I needed a ciggy. Linda and her husband were still at it when we left our sex haze behind for the bright lights and clarity of the kitchen.
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