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WEEKEND SLAVE

Thursday, December 3rd, 2015

Standing five and a half feet tall, with a trim and shapely body, Gina makes a striking appearance. Her long hair is straight and brown. Her green eyes are shaped like a cat’s. Gina is an assistant editor for a young women’s fashion magazine. She was divorced a little more than a year ago at the age of thirty-two. For the past several months, she has been seeing Frank, a radio disk jockey, on a steady basis.

My ex … husband and I were married when we were in our early twenties and hung together for almost ten years. It was awful. Thank God we didn’t have any children; that would have made the divorce even messier than it was. There were lots of problems in our marriage, but sex was probably the worst of them. Lovemaking was never high on my ex’ s list of priorities. If I learned anything from my marriage, it was that life held no hope for sexual fulfillment. The closest I ever came to satisfaction was when I masturbated, which I did occasionally, but always with a great sense of shame and guilt. Actually, until I met Frank, I didn’t discover that my sexual appetites could be nourished. Frank is four years older than I am and went through a divorce just about the same time I did. When we met, I guess we were both hungry for companionship. Frank was mentioned in a story I was editing about radio personalities. When I called him to verify some facts, he invited me to lunch. I was sexually attracted to him as soon as he sat down across the table from me. He was dark and mysterious-looking, with a compact body and very muscular hands. There was something in his voice that made it soothing and exciting at the same time.

Apparently, he was attracted to me too, ·because before lunch was over, he invited me to have dinner with him that same evening. Cautiously, I accepted. I was lonely, but after the horrible experience I had recently been through, I was unwilling to get involved in anything like a relationship. We dined at a nice restaurant and shared a bottle of Beaujolais. I found Frank witty and entertaining. But when he suggested a nightcap at his apartment, I made up an excuse about having to get home early. Frank laughed. “Let’s face it,” he said. “I’m trying to get you into bed, and you’re turning me down.” I was flustered, but he laughed again. “I’m just being Frank,” he said. “How about dinner tomorrow?”

We went out twice more that first week and three times the next. Each time we did, Frank invited me to his bed, and I repeated my refusal. It may sound strange in this day and age, but I had slept with only one man. I was curious about how it would be with Frank, but I was convinced that all men were like my ex-husband, incapable of understanding a woman’s sexual needs. After our tenth or eleventh date, my curiosity got the better of me. I agreed to accompany Frank to his place, but deep down I was expecting disappointment.

Frank surprised me. He was considerate and thorough. He kissed and caressed me until I was completely aroused. Then, slowly and artfully, he undressed me. Postponing the fulfillment of his own needs, he attended to mine. His fingers found my most sensitive spots. His lips nibbled at all the right places. By the time he entered me, I was only a moment away from orgasm. After I came, he continued thrusting inside me until I was ready again. This time, he climaxed with me. When it was over, we lay together in silence, our arms and legs intertwined. I never knew that sex could be so good. After that night, Frank and I saw each other regularly. Neither of us was ready to get involved in any kind of deep commitment, but I didn’t go out with anyone else, and neither did he. We had dinner together almost every night. Afterward we made love, either in his place or mine. We occasionally spent the whole night together, but most of the time we parted, sleeping separately in our own apartments.

Frank was a wonderful lover. Sex wasn’t just the ending to an evening out. He made it part of everything we did. Sometimes he would call me at work and whisper hoarsely about some fantasy that he was having. Other times he would describe things we did the night before, using that frenetic radio voice he usually reserved for announcing hits on his show. He even found a way to turn sporting events into sex games. We’re both ardent fans and we spend lots of evenings together watching sports on Frank’s big-screen TV. Sometimes we make bets with erotic payoffs. If the shooter makes the basket, I have to give Frank a blowjob. If the batter strikes out, Frank has to go down on me for fifteen minutes without stopping. That sort of thing. Usually, we wait till the game is over before the winner gets to collect. By then the anticipation builds to heat up the session that follows. In fact, one of those bets led to the best sex I ever had.

It was a boxing match-a ·championship bout. The challenger was about fifteen years older than the champ, and I predicted that the champ would knock him out within the first three rounds. Frank insisted that the fight would go the limit and that the challenger would win it by a decision. I was so sure he was wrong that I was prepared to bet the farm. In a flash of inspiration, Frank proposed the heaviest stakes ever. “A weekend,” he said. “The loser has tq be the winner’s sex slave for an entire weekend.” “Okay,” I said smugly. “You’ll have to do everything I say from the time work ends Friday until midnight Sunday night.” Frank laughed. “It’s going to be the other way around, I assure you,” he said. “But let’s make sure we have this straight. You’re betting on the champ, and I’m picking the challenger. The winner will be master for the whole weekend. The loser is the slave and has to do everything the winner says.” ”Agreed,” I answered, certain of victory.

The match ended just as Frank said it would. He sat there grinning, his mind obviously working on the things he was planning to make me do. The idea of being his sex slave rather appealed to me. I found myself becoming aroused anticipating the erotic weekend that lay ahead. We didn’t see each other on Thursday because Frank had to work late at the station. On Friday, he called me at least fifteen times to remind me of my enslavement. The last call came just a couple of minutes before five as I was preparing to leave my office. He phoned to say authoritatively that I was to be at his apartment by six, ready to serve him. In a seductive voice, I told him that I was looking forward to it. I was imagining a sort of romantic submission in which he put little silver chains on my ankles and made me wear a studded collar while I served him dinner in bed. Then he would make passionate love to me, forcing me to have one orgasm after another.

Frank had a different kind of slavery in mind. When I entered his apartment, he was sitting in an easy chair like a king on a throne. I started toward him for a hello kiss when, with a curt gesture of his hand, he commanded me to stop. “Right there, slave,” he said. “Strip!” I felt myself tingling all over. His voice was so harsh, his tone so dominant. He sounded so impersonal, ordering me to remove my clothes while he just sat and watched. I trembled with excitement and reached back to unzip my dress. “Do it slowly,” he commanded. “Tum around so I can watch the zipper come down.” The idea that he would enjoy something as simple as that aroused me tremendously. It made me feel sexy and desirable. I knew that I was in for an evening of erotic bliss. Facing away from him, I obeyed, unzipping as gradually as I could. I tried to picture the black lace of my bra and panties coming slowly into view. When I was ready to step out of the dress, he barked, “Now face me, slave girl. I want to see your tits.”

The brutal tone of his command inflamed me. As I turned, I lowered the dress from my shoulders. When I looked at him, I saw that his pants were open. He had his cock in his hand and was stroking it slowly while he stared at me. Stepping out of the dress, I tossed it aside and awaited his pleasure. “Take off the bra,” he said. “And rub your nipples.” Every word excited me. Watching me wriggle out of my bra, he continued fondling his hard .. on. My nipples, usually pink, were turning bright rosy red in my excitement. I had never performed this way before, not even in fantasy. Jolts of pleasure passed through me as I petted my breasts and twisted my nipples for his amusement. I could feel myself getting wetter and wetter under his hungry gaze. . “Now the panties,” he commanded. “Take them off so I can see your pussy.”

I found myself feeling a strange kind of delicious embarrassment. He had seen me naked many times, but this was different. I felt like a slave standing on· the auction block for inspection by my master. Frank licked his lips greedily as I reached for the waistband to draw the delicate lace over my thighs. Stepping out of it, I stood before him totally nude. ”Now rub your pussy,” he instructed. ”Put your fingers in it and hold yourself open so I can see.” He leaned forward, staring intently at my slit. “Move closer, slave girl,” he added. “I want a good look.” I took two steps toward him and began rubbing my juices all over the pouting lips of my sex. I was feeling totally stimulated, absorbed in my erotic performance and in his erotic ·commands. My love button was hard and swollen. I hoped that he could see it peeking through. I pictured his tongue on it. I couldn’t wait. “Now rub your clit for me,” he said. “And rub it good.” I started to comply, running my fingertips lightly in little circles around the sensitive nubbin. I hadn’t masturbated since Frank and I got together; it didn’t seem legitimate. But letting him watch me do it was different. It felt wonderful. I loved having his eyes on me while my fingers found my centers of pleasure.

“That will have to be enough,” he said suddenly. “And I’m afraid it’s all you’re going to get until the weekend’s over, my slave.” I was shocked. “You’re kidding,” I said. “Aren’t you?” He reached out to hand me something. “Not kidding at all,” he answered. “Now put this on.” I never· knew such a thing existed. It was a kind of corset made of black leather. The crotch was closed by a thick leather flap sewn onto the back and fastened in the front with a stout-looking brass lock. “What is this?” I asked, incredulous. “A chastity belt?” “Exactly,” he answered. “To make sure the slave girl’s pussy isn’t touched all weekend. Now put it on and come here.”

I struggled into the medieval garment and stood in front of him. He inspected it carefully, yanking on the lock to make sure it was properly closed. Leaning back in his chair he said, “Now, give me a handjob.” His cock was standing straight up through his open fly. I waited a moment, thinking that he would. want to remove his clothes, but he sat there regally. Realizing that he expected me to service him just the way he was, I dropped to my knees before him. Taking his erect penis in my hand, I felt a thrill run through my body. I know it sounds weird, but the idea of being his sex object and doing whatever I was told was marvelously arousing. I stroked him obediently, feeling his sex muscle swell against my fingers. Within moments, his come was spurting into the air. It was exciting to see him get off so fast. “Very good,” he said. “Now suck me till I get hard again.” Leaning over his lap, I felt the leather crotch-flap pull tight against my vagina. Every movement of my body caused it to constrict, erotically stimulating my sensitive membranes. I mouthed his flaccid penis while the heat built up inside me. The salty taste turned me on even more.

I licked him hungrily, certain that he would reward me with intercourse when I got him fully erect. It didn’t take long for his cock to become turgid within the warmth of my mouth. When I felt it throbbing to full capacity, I drew back and touched the head lightly with the tip of my tongue. · “Don’t you want to unlock this now?” I whispered. “I’d love to feel you in me.” “No way,” he said. “You’re my slave. Finish me with your mouth.” Still believing that the evening would end with his hardness inside me, I tongued him to climax. “I think I’ll have you draw my bath now,” he said when his orgasm ended. “Then you can bathe me, and maybe I’ll even let you get me off again, in the tub.”

I was beginning to think he was serious about not touching my pussy all weekend. By the time his bath was finished, I knew it was so. He made me lather his cock and balls with hot water and soap and rub him with slippery foam until he came again. Throughout the weekend, I gave him orgasm after orgasm. I used every possible way that he or I could imagine, so long as my pussy wasn’t involved. I played with his ass and sucked his cock. I stroked him with my fingers and with the soles of my feet. I held his hard-0n between my tits and moved up and down until his hot sperm shot into my cleavage. I tickled his entire body with my long hair and blew hot breath on his genitals. I kissed his lips· and his nipples while I jerked him off. He never so much as touched me. I was his slave entirely. He made me wear the chastity belt all the time, even when we were sleeping. He unlocked it when I needed to use the bathroom, only to refasten it as soon as I was finished. The leather flap across my pussy stimulated me almost to the point of orgasm and kept me hanging there interminably. My arousal peaked and remained at the summit for hours at a time.

The sight of his swollen cock spurting into the air or onto my breasts and thighs brought me trembling to the brink of the abyss. The things I did to his body made my insides tingle with erotic hunger. Each moment took me higher, each sub.missive act further inflaming my passions. Sometimes he let me think that he might be merciful and permit me to have a climax. Just a little ·one to tide me over. Once he even put the key in the lock on my chastity belt, sadistically changing his mind at the last minute. He teased and tantalized me, asking if I’d like to get fucked. I wanted to scream, “Yes, yes, yes. Please fuck me. Please oh please oh please.” But I soon learned that he was immovable.

By Sunday evening, I was watching the clock and counting the hours. Although my erotic appetite was overwhelming, I actually enjoyed my role as obedient slave. I had never been in so intense a state of sexual excitement for so long a period of time. For the past forty-eight hours, I’d been having sex in one form or another almost continuously. If I had been free to climax, it would have been over a long time ago. Instead, the sustained excitement was like an endless orgasm. Frank seemed to understand this and had a way of increasing my stimulation each time he came. At ten P.M., Frank said, “You’ve been such a good slave that I think I’m going to reward you.” When he fitted the key into the lock on my chastity belt, I thought he was taunting me again. But this time, he turned it and opened the lock. Pulling the flap open, he freed my hungry sex from its constricting prison. The fresh air bathed my moist membranes, caressing me like a lover’s kiss. Uttering a strangled groan, Frank fell on me, pressing his face against the damp cushion of hair that surrounded my pussy. He began kissing and licking me, his lips and tongue moving furiously up and down the length of my slit. He had been as hungry for my sex as I was for his. The moment the tip of his tongue found the button of my clit, I started to come. The sexual energy that had been building in me demanded release. My erotic hunger cried out as I gorged myself on the movements of his mouth.

My first orgasm was still bursting from my womb when I felt him carrying me toward my second. The waves of bliss were so potent that I tangled my fingers in his hair, trying to pull his face away so I could regain my strength. Heedless, he licked on, lifting my spirit to a plane of shuddering ecstasy. My passionate screams filled the air as climax followed climax, the second barely ending before the third began to build. The muscles of my abdomen went tense, my back arching to lift my body off the mattress. I pressed my thighs to the sides of his head and bucked wildly against his nibbling lips and his thrusting tongue. Only after my fourth orgasm was spent did he let me fall back against the bed to rest for a moment before mounting me.

How could I take more after all those thundering climaxes? How could I possibly be ready to feel his cock inside me? How could I endure more stimulation so soon? Somehow I did! As he. slid slowly into my palpitating vagina, my excitement soared again. I was acutely conscious of the membranes of my sex parting before the onslaught of his plundering penis. He was filling me, stuffing me with the thick heft of his manhood. All the waiting was worthwhile. Nothing had ever felt this explosively pleasurable before. I clawed at his back as he drove rhythmically in and out of me, each stroke taking me up another notch on the perilous climb to total release. I tottered at the edge, frightened of the final plunge. I felt my consciousness slipping away. I was merging with the cosmic flow, my juices floating me to nirvana. For one aching moment, I clung desperately to the earth. Then Frank’s thrusting cock tore me loose, casting me spinning through the vastness of erotic space. I thought my orgasm would go on forever. Totally unaware, I sang my pleasure to the heavens. Frank joined me, adding his manly groans to the harmony of our fulfillment.

Later, Frank carried me gently to the bath, tenderly lowering me into the hot water. Lovingly, he bathed me, soothing the sex muscles that had strained with pleasure until they were fatigued. Then, after drying me with a soft thick towel, he carried me to bed and held me in his arms until I fell into a smiling satisfied sleep. We’ve had lots of good sex since then, and I’m sure there’s lots more of it ahead of us. I’ll never forget that weekend though. I starved for two and a half days in a state of excruciating excitement before feasting on the best sex I ever had.

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    THE WEDDING FEAST

    Thursday, December 3rd, 2015

    Michael is thirty-nine years old and has been a successful New York theater musician for more than.half his life. He sports· a sixty-dollar haircut, his shoulder-length hair carefully layered to preserve a well-groomed appearance. Its shiny black color contrasts dramatically with the steel gray of his eyes. He is lean and agile at a height of six foot-two. A one-carat diamond stud flashes in his left earlobe to call attention to his masculine good looks. When we ask about the best sex he ever had, he wistfully recalls his wedding night, ten years ago.

    I started playing the drums kind of late in life. I was eleven. Most pros start before they’re seven. I learned fast, though, and was playing in a neighborhood rock band by the time I was fifteen. At nineteen, I got my first job on Broadway, in the orchestra for a hit musical. The show ran four years and I worked the whole time. When it closed, I got a gig with another musical right away. Since then, I’ve worked steadily, one show after another, with never more than a week or two between gigs. That’s how I met Sandy. It was about eleven years ago. I was twenty-eight, and she was twenty seven. A friend of mine who was playing sax in a new show invited me to a party to celebrate the opening of rehearsals. It was at somebody’s posh Park Avenue apartment, one of those open house kind of affairs with people drifting in and out all night. I noticed Sandy the minute she entered the room. You might say it was a case of lust at first sight. She had long, straight blond hair, the softest I’ve ever seen, and eyes the color of sapphires. She was tall and thin, with small breasts and tight little buns. Her curvy muscular legs tipped me off to her occupation.

    I grabbed two glasses of champagne and headed straight toward her. “Welcome,” I said, handing her a glass. “I bet you’re a dancer.” She flashed me a smile that could have melted steel and looked me over carefully from head to toe. “And you must be a drummer,” she answered, sipping the champagne. “Hey, wait a minute,” I said. “One look at those gorgeous legs told me that you’re a dancer. But how did you know that I play drums?” She smiled knowingly. “Maybe I’ll tell you sometime,” she said softly. “When we know each other better.” Her voice was deep and husky, making her words sound like sexy music. “Oh? Do you think we will?” I asked. My mind was racing, trying to remember whether I had ever met her before. I knew I couldn’t have, because I never would have forgotten some one like her.

    She wasn’t coy or cutesy, like a lot of women would have been in that situation. She just looked me in the eye and said, “Yes. I think we will.” She was right, of course. We talked and laughed together for an hour or so, only half aware that there was a crowded party going on around us. After what I thought was a decent interval, I suggested that we go somewhere for a drink, and she immediately agreed. We found a quiet comer in a cocktail lounge. When our drinks arrived, I said, “Well, do you think we know each other well enough yet? How could you tell I’m a drummer?” Sandy affected an expression of mystery. “It might ha ye been your hands,” she said. “Or it might have been the rhythm of your movements. But probably it was when I saw you coming toward me with those two glasses of champagne, I asked a friend who you were, and she told me.” I laughed heartily. What a great sense of humor. We stayed in the lounge for a while to continue our conversation. Although we played at courtship sparring, we both knew how the evening would end. Within hours we were writhing in bed together in her apartment.

    We went out again the next night and started seeing each other a few times a week from that point on. Sandy worked in the chorus of a musical a few blocks from where I played. We would meet for drinks and dinner after work and end up at her place, where we would make love until the wee hours. We started ·spending more and more time together. I found that when I wasn’t with her, I was thinking about her and longing for her. After only three months, I asked her to move in with me, and she accepted. Because her apartment was larger and more centrally located than mine, I actually ended up moving in with her. Everything was great, right from the start. We ate together, laughed together, slept together, and enjoyed life together. Every night after work at 10:30, we both rushed home to make passionate love.

    There was something about our sexual communication that made it clear that we were right for each other. I’d been with a lot of sexy women before that. You know how show business is. But no other woman ever satisfied me the way Sandy did. For one thing, I have a powerful appetite, always hungry for sex. Every night. Every morning. And in the middle of the day too, if I can get it. None of the other women I knew could keep up with me. Most of the time, after their first orgasm, they were ready to roll over and go to sleep. I always wanted more. Oh, some would try to accommodate me, but I could tell that their hearts weren’t really in it. With Sandy it was different. She had the same urgent sexual drive as I did. When she came back for seconds, I knew that it was because she wanted it as much as I. I didn’t usually go to work until evening, but she was rehearsing a new show and had to work all afternoon. Some .. times she’d call me from rehearsal to say that she was getting a break and heading home. When that happened, I’d wait for her, naked, in our apartment. As soon as she opened the door, I’d pounce on her, stripping off her clothes and scattering them around the room as I pulled her to the bed or dragged her to the floor. She didn’t usually get more than twenty or thirty minutes off, so we’d start making love immediately and keep it up until the last possible second.

    At night, we would have more time for leisure. Sometimes our foreplay would last for hours. We would take turns at massaging each other or kissing each other’s bodies, until the kisses turned to oral sex. We would bring each other right to the edge of orgasm before stopping to switch roles. She satisfied all my urges, all my wants, all my erotic desires. And I knew I was satisfying her. It wasn’t just sex, either. We were deeply in love with each other. We both knew that it was only a matter of time before we got married. I brought up the subject of marriage after we had been living together for eight months. Sandy agreed at once, her eyes shining with tears of happiness. We set the date, reserved a ballroom in a Midtown hotel, and started inviting friends and families.

    One night, about two weeks before the wedding, Sandy surprised me. As usual, I hurried home right after work, looking forward to several hours of steamy sex. But my fiancee had other ideas. When I arrived, she Was still fully dressed. I noticed a suitcase in our apartment’s entrance hall.

    I was horrified. Was she leaving me? Had she changed her mind about the wedding? “Sandy,” I asked nervously. “What’s going on?” “Don’t worry, my love,” she said in a voice that calmed me. “I’ve been thinking about something and I want to tell you about it. “You see,” she continued. “Like every girl in the world, I always dreamed about my wedding night. I always wanted it to be something special. But the way we’re living, it won’t be special at all. We’ll wake up together, have breakfast together, and get dressed together just like we do every day. Then we’ll go to the wedding together and come home together afterward. Now what’s special about that?”

    I saw her point, but I couldn’t imagine how she intended to change things. “I guess you’re right,” I said. “But that’s life in the modem world. After all, we’ve been living together for almost a year. There’s nothing we can do about that now.” “Well, in a way there is,” she answered. “If we don’t live together between now and then, our wedding night can seem like something special.” Now I understood the suitcase that I had seen when I came in. In a strange way it made sense, but I didn’t like it. ”My friend Kathryn has a lovely apartment overlooking the river,” she continued. “She left for Europe this morning and gave me her key. I’ve arranged for you to house-sit for the next two weeks.” I was stunned. “What?” I stammered. “You mean you’re kicking me out?”

    “Don’t look at it that way, Michael,” she said in a soothing voice. ”Think of it as an investment in our future. After two weeks of not sleeping together, our wedding night will be so hot and sizzling that we’ll remember it for the rest of our lives.” As she spoke, she undid two of the buttons at the front of her blouse. I became hard at once. “I don’t know,” I said, trying to sound logical. “Maybe there’s a better way. I mean, two weeks seems kind of drastic.

    Suppose we just agree not to have sex for two or three nights before our wedding.” “No, no,” she said in the husky whisper that had helped hook me on her in the first place. “I promise you a night that’ll be worth waiting for. After two weeks without it, we’ll be so turned on that there isn’t anything we won’t be ready to do.” She undid another button and leaned over to lick my ear with the tip of her tongue. “Let me tell you some of the things I have in mind,” she whispered, reaching for my hand and placing it inside the open front of her blouse. I cupped her breasts, feeling her erect nipples poking against the inside of her bra. I was painfully hard, throbbing inside my pants.

    She started describing the most exciting sex acts I could imagine, promising me a night filled with bliss. She told me exactly where she would put her fingers and her tongue. She told me about an erotic dance she was creating especially for the occasion, a dance that would arouse me more than I had ever been aroused. She promised to do things I had always dreamed of, and some I had never dreamed of. She alluded to positions so unusual that we had never even tried them before. All the while, she was blowing her hot breath in my ear and nibbling it. I was so turned on that I would have gone along with anything. “Okay, my love,” I murmured. “It’s a crazy idea, but if that’s what you want, I’ll do it.” As I spoke, I slipped my fingers inside her bra to search for the glowing ember of her nipple. Before I found it, Sandy pulled away from me, leaving my empty hand poised in midair.

    “Quick,” I said. “Let’s go to bed right now. If it’s going to be the last time until the wedding, I want to get started right away. I’ll pack in the morning.” “No, my darling,” Sandy said, re buttoning her blouse. “This morning was the last time until the wedding. Your suitcase is already packed. Here’s the key to Kathryn’s place. The address is on this slip of paper.” “What?” I sputtered. “Why tonight? Why can’t we just sleep together once more before this prison sentence begins?” “No,” she repeated firmly, opening the door. “You’re out of here right now.” “But … ” Without quite knowing how it happened, I found myself standing outside the closed door of our apartment with a suitcase in one hand and her friend’s key in the other. I turned to ring the bell but stopped myself, realizing that her mind was made up and there was no chance of changing it. For the next two weeks, I went slowly crazy. We talked to each other on the phone two or three times a day, but never for more than a few minutes. She always managed to find some excuse when I asked her to meet me, saying that she was very busy at rehearsal or that she had too many other things to do. I missed her terribly and I was counting the days.

    To make matters worse, I was horny as hell. Without any warning, I had gone from feast to famine. Sandy and I had been having sex several times a day, and suddenly I was on a sexual starvation diet. I tried jerking off, but that just didn’t fill the bill. Once I even tried doing it while talking to her on the phone, figuring that it would be a little like making love. She knew instantly, though, from the sound of my breathing. ”Now, you cut that out,” she said. Embarrassed, I stopped. As soon as we were off the phone, I finished what I had started, but it just wasn’t enough. I was beginning to find it difficult to sleep at night, tossing and turning for hours between twenty- or thirty-minute snatches of slumber. My erection never seemed to go away, and when I rolled around restlessly in my solitary bed, it pressed painfully against the mattress. I lost my appetite and was losing weight as a result. I never realized how sexual starvation could gnaw at a person day after day, night after night.

    I couldn’t even concentrate on my work. I beat out my rhythms mechanically, relying on reflexes that I developed in the year or so that the show had been running. Instead of thinking about the music, I was thinking about my erotic needs. The worst part was knowing that they wouldn’t be fulfilled when work was finished or when the night was over. It seemed that I had been living like a monk for centuries, although it hadn’t been quite two weeks. It was sheer agony. By the time our wedding day rolled around, all I could think about was making love to Sandy. Never mind the ceremony. Never mind the reception. I wanted the honeymoon to start right away. I was obsessing. I was so hungry for sex that my body ached. I wasn’t at all sure that I’d be able to get the pants of my wedding suit on over my hard-on. I think I lost contact with reality for a while. In my mind, the wedding had turned into a night of lovemaking on a bed of passion. When I arrived at the hall and saw the room filled with guests, I realized that the consummation of our desires was still several eternal hours away. My brother, who was acting as my best man, thought I had the jitters because I was having second thoughts about getting married. Boy, was he mistaken. I wanted that ceremony more than anything I ever wanted before.

    I don’t remember much about it other than some hastily mumbled “I do’s” and a voice pronouncing us man and wife. I had reserved a room in that very hotel and wanted to rush up to it as soon as the ceremony ended. But there was still that endless dinner and reception to sit through. All the guests were eating and drinking and having a ball. Everyone but me. Food and dancing were the last things on my mind. All I wanted was to roll my bride in my arms, kiss her, and make wonderful love to her. When the band struck up “A Groovy Kind of Love,” everyone called for Sandy and me to dance alone. As we glided across the floor, I held my wife tightly against me, fearful that the bulge of my erection would embarrass me. “Let’s get out of here,” I murmured. “Everybody’s having a good time. No one will notice if we slip away. Isn’t that what newlyweds do?”

    “Oh, silly,” she said, giggling like a virgin. “We haven’t even cut the cake yet.” I could tell that she was enjoying the wait, pleased by my hunger for her. Later, as our friends took turns proposing toasts to the newly married couple, I asked her again if we could leave. She shook her head coquettishly, saying, “Our guests, Michael. We mustn’t forget our guests.” Finally, as the waiters were pouring coffee, she leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Now, my darling husband. Take me to our room and make love to me.” My knees were shaking as I stood and took her hand. Trying to be unobtrusive, I led her through the double doors to the elevators. My heart was pounding. I held her and kissed her as the elevator whisked us to the honeymoon suite. Opening the door, I lifted her and carried her inside. “Oh, God,” I said. ”Those ·were the longest two weeks in my life. I never want to go through anything like that again.” Sandy just smiled. “It will be worth it, darling,” she said. “You’ll see.” With that, she stepped back and lifted the skirt and petticoats of her wedding gown, exhibiting the lacy garter belt that held up her stockings. I gasped. She was not wearing panties.

    “I’m yours now,” she said. “Come and take me.” I fell to my knees and pressed my lips to the milky skin at the tops of her thighs. As I kissed and nuzzled, she lowered the skirts so that I was inside the dress with her. Famished, I devoured her sex flesh. The moment my tongue touched her sensitive button, I heard her begin to groan rhythmically. She was coming already. Obviously, my bride was as hungry as I. Without waiting to catch her breath, she stepped away from me as soon as her orgasm was finished and unzipped my fly. Holding my erection tenderly in her loving hand, she bent forward and took it into her mouth, bringing me to climax within seconds. Then she led me to the bed and guided me down onto it. “We’ve finished starving,” she said. “Now the real banquet will begin.”

    She began to dance for me, slowly and tantalizingly stripping off her clothing as she undulated to music playing in her head. The movements of her body were intensely erotic, bringing me to renewed erection almost instantly. When all her garments were removed, she danced naked, making age old gestures with her hips and pelvis that seemed to say, “Fuck me, fuck me.” Her body swayed, arousing us both until we were ready to. begin making love slowly and patiently, time after time, till night turned to day. Sometimes we came singly, one of us passive while the other gave pleasure. Then, immediately, we changed roles so that passive receiver became active giver. Sometimes we came. together, striving in rhythm until the ecstasy of simultaneous orgasms made us fill the air with cries and sobs of satisfied desire. Even after that, we continued making love, moving without stop from one thundering climax to the next.

    Sometime the following morning, we drifted off to sleep. We clutched at each other as if we both feared another separation like the one we had endured. When we woke, we loved again, trying desperately to make up for all we had missed. That evening, we left for a short honeymoon· in the Caribbean. During it, neither of us saw much of anything outside our honeymoon bedchamber, where we spent hours and hours each day and night satisfying our undying appetites. Our wedding night and the days that followed it were filled with the best sex either of us ever had.

    There’s no doubt that the period of sexual starvation prior to our wedding sharpened our desires and honed the cutting edge of our passion. Although we’ve been married for ten years, we haven’t lost any of our sexual hunger. Sometimes, though, when we want to add a special spice to our life, we deliberately starve ourselves for a week or two. We talk about sex but refrain from all sexual contact until a predetermined day. Then we feast, indulging in an erotic banquet that always begins with Sandy’s dance of the veils and never ends until our rapacious cravings are satiated.

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      SEXUAL STARVATION AND EROTIC BANQUETS

      Thursday, December 3rd, 2015

      One of the traits that characterize a mature person is the ability to delay gratification. An infant empties its bowels whenever it feels the urge. A lion begins feasting as soon as it has killed. An adult human being waits until the time is right, however. When we are hungry, we go to the store for bread. But no matter how famished we feel, we don’t usually eat it until we get all the way home. Even then, we are likely to wait until we have set the table and washed our hands. There are many reasons why we are willing to postpone our pleasures. It may be healthier to wait for the right surroundings. It may be more comfortable or more decorous. It may be important to make efficient use of our energy by getting necessary business out of the way before settling back to relax. We may have to work so that we can afford to play. There are occasions, though, when putting off the good times is a way of enhancing our enjoyment.

      After a three day fast, a saltine cracker can seem like the best meal anyone ever ate. The starvation that sharpened our senses might have been imposed upon us by circumstances beyond our control. We might have been lost in the woods, for example, or suffering from an illness. On the other hand, we might have deliberately done without so that when finally we feasted we would better be able to appreciate the subtle flavors of our simple banquet. Similarly, a bout with sexual starvation can make the erotic encounter that follows it feel like the most satisfying experience ever. Some people discover this by accident, after undergoing forced separation from their lovers. Others make a game of it, deliberately postponing sexual contact to increase their sensual fulfillment. The stories in this blog are told by people who found that the best sex they ever had came after planned periods of abstinence.

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        CAMPING OUT

        Tuesday, December 1st, 2015

        Neal played football when he was in college and still looks it even though he is now thirty-two years old. His rippling muscles and flat abdomen make it obvious that he works at staying in good shape. His straw-colored hair has a way of falling in front of his light brown eyes that makes him appear boyish and uncertain. As a lawyer, however, he is known to be a tough adversary. His wife, Karen, a high school principal, is thirty-three. Neal says the best sex he ever had was on a camping trip he and Karen took on an impulse one weekend .

        I was a pretty good football player in college. And Karen was a cheerleader. She was really something. I guess we both lost interest in sports after college. I stayed in shape, but Karen has gotten a little chunky over the years. Not that it bothers me. I think flesh is sexy. Anyway, this incident happened last year during the World Series. Those games were all anybody around here could talk about. Our friends, our neighbors, my law partners, everyone had baseball fever. Everyone but us, that is. I’m not sure whether it was Karen or me, but one of us got the idea that with everybody else home watching what could be the last game of the Series, it would be· a great weekend fortaking a trip. We decided to go camping-something we do infrequently enough for it to still be an enjoyable novelty. I borrowed a tent from one of my partners, threw the sleeping bags in the trunk of the car, and we headed out of town. We were planning to get in a bit of weekend screwing and were both excited about the idea of sex in a tent.

        We drove for about two-and-a-half hours. As we traveled, we whiled away the time making sex talk. Karen said that she wanted to be sure to find a secluded campsite, because she had big plans for the night. When she started describing the things she was going to do to me, I became painfully excited. That was what she had in mind, of course. She continued teasing me until I felt like I would wet myself. Every now and then, she even reached over and stroked me through my pants to magnify my arousal. Not to be outdone, I began describing the lewdest sex acts I could imagine, until I could tell by the way Karen was breathing that I was getting to her. We rode that way the whole time, kind of having a contest to- see who could create the most erotic images with words. By early afternoon, we were both trembling with sexual excitement and eager to get camped.

        We started looking for campground signs, considering several before we decided to stop. The one we chose was about three miles off the highway on a heavily wooded hillside. The dirt road that led to it was flanked by a riotous array of autumn wildflowers. I stopped the car for a moment and got out to pick a huge feathery pink blossom. When I got back into the car, I stroked Karen’s face with it seductively. Then I touched it to each of her breasts and kissed it before handing it to her. When I drove forward, I knew that she was thinking about sex. And so was I.

        At the entrance to the campground, there was a cabin with a sign on it that said OFFICE. Parking in front, I went inside while Karen waited in the car. In the office, a gray-haired man sat in an easy chair staring at the baseball game on TV. Without looking up at me, he said, “Guess you’re not a baseball fan. Everybody else is home watching the game. You’ve got the place to yourself. Pick any campsite you want and pay me on the way out.”

        ”We have the run of the place,” I told Karen as I got back into the car. Driving slowly around the grounds, we looked for the ideal campsite. Each one was equipped with a picnic table, a water faucet, and a trash can. Even though there weren’t any other people on the grounds, Karen was disturbed that the campsites were so close together. We kept cruising until we found a fiat spot on top of a low hill. It was a little more private, because there was only enough level ground for two sites. We chose one of them, confident that we would have all the solitude we wanted. The borrowed tent came with an instruction sheet, but it took me quite a while to figure it out and set it up. While I was doing so, ‘Karen spread our picnic things on the table and inflated the air mattresses with a foot pump. When we both had finished, we put the air mattresses inside the tent and unrolled our sleeping bags, zipping them together to make a double bag big enough for the two of us.

        We were sitting down at the picnic table to rest after our labors when a car passed the campsite, slowing down as it went by. Karen and I were worried about losing our privacy until the other car drove on. They were obviously inspecting the campground before selecting their spot, just as we had done. A few minutes later, however, the car returned and pulled into the other campsite. I looked around to see whether the rest of the campground had suddenly gotten crowded, but except for the young couple in the car, we were the only people there. Karen and I looked at each other in disbelief. With all of the empty campsites, why did they have to pick this one? Their picnic table was directly across from ours. The way our tent was set up, they would be blocking our view no matter where they pitched theirs. As they got out of their car, Karen whispered, ”Should we move to another spot?” Thinking about how much work it had been to set up the tent, I answered, “They might not be staying. Let’s just wait awhile and see what happens.” ”All right,” Karen said, perhaps a little relieved herself that she wouldn’t have to defiate and reinfiate the mattresses. “But if they don’t leave, promise me we can kill them.” We sat together watching sullenly as the other couple pulled a few things out of their car. They were both in their early twenties, clean cut, slim, and athletic-looking: They all appeared to be a couple of college kids. “Oh, shit,” Karen said. “They’ve got a tent. They must be here to stay.”

        As the young woman unpacked a bag of groceries, her boyfriend began pitching a tent. It consisted of a canvas roof with four walls made of clear mosquito netting-the kind of tent that is usually used as an outdoor dining room. I was relieved. “Don’t worry,” I told Karen. “Nobody sleeps in a tent like that. They’re probably just here for a picnic. They picked this spot because of the view. I’m sure they’ll be gone before dark.” The fellow had the tent up within minutes. By now his girlfriend had finished what she was doing and was sitting on top of the picnic table with her feet on a bench. He sat down beside her and kissed her lightly on the lips. “Isn’t that sweet,” Karen muttered sarcastically.

        I glanced casually up at them and noticed that the light kiss had turned into a passionate liplock. His mouth was pressed hungrily to hers, and his arms were wound tightly around her. I could see his tongue working its way into her mouth to duel with hers. I could even hear the soft moans of their passion. I leaned toward Karen to suggest in a whisper that she take a look at a . the show, but she was one step ahead of me, obviously entranced by the physical display. I nudged her, and she turned her head slightly so that her curious stare would not be noticed. I could tell that she was still watching from the comer of her eye, though. It was doubtful that the young couple would have seen us watching at that point, because their eyes were tightly shut and they were engrossed in each other. I must admit that I found the scene extremely exciting. I know that Karen did; too. My wife moved over next to me and rubbed her body kittenishly against mine.

        As he kissed her, the young man placed his hands on the woman’s chest. He pushed her gently backward until her back . was flat against the table, her feet remaining on the bench. Continuing to kiss her, he began roaming freely over the swell of her bosom with his hands. I know I was openly staring now. The woman made no objection as he cupped her breasts through her sweatshirt, slowly and languidly stroking each one. I could tell from the way the material outlined her nipples that she was not wearing a bra. He kneaded her flesh softly, bringing quiet moans of pleasure· from her throat. . I looked at Karen to make sure that she wasn’t missing the action. Now she too was openly staring, not even attempting a pretext of looking anywhere else. I turned back to the passionate couple, watching them candidly.

        One of his hands moved slowly across her belly toward the waistband of her sweatshirt. As her body began to writhe slowly against the table, he slid his hand inside. Through the blue cloth of the sweatshirt, I could see his fingers closing over . the mound of her firm young breast. My erection was straining against my pants, and there was nothing I could do about it. Nothing but stare at the unashamed display of lust. I turned to look at Karen again and saw the expression on her face change suddenly. Quickly, I glanced back at our campsite neighbors just in time to see him pull up her sweat .. shirt, completely exposing her bare breasts. He stroked them lightly, rolling her bright pink nipples between his fingers.

        Then, leaning over her, he began to lick gently at the turgid flesh. I hated to lose sight of her naked bosom, but his head blocked it from view for the moment. Without realizing, I put my arm around Karen’s shoulders, feeling her melt against me. The young man began moving rhythmically from one nipple to the other, letting me see each of them in tum. They were wet with his saliva, glistening in the failing light of early evening. He stopped sucking her breasts and began to nuzzle and kiss her face again. I heard them giggling and whispering to each other, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. They both. glanced in our direction at the same time, catching us an instant before we managed to look away. From the comer of my eye, I saw the woman sit up and adjust her sweatshirt. To my disappointment, she was covering herself. I heard them laugh, and I was sure they were laughing at us.

        The young lovers began puttering around their picnic table, preparing themselves some kind of meal. “Too bad the show’s over,” Karen muttered. “I was beginning to think they were actually going to do it right here and now.” “Well, I don’t know about you,” I said softly, although actually I did, “but I’ve seen enough to get me warmed up. They might not be doing it, but we soon will be. It’s going to be dark soon. And then we’re going to have some fun.” We started getting our own supper together without paying any more attention to the couple. I was sure that they would pack up and leave as soon as they had eaten. Although I wanted privacy, I was a little sorry that we wouldn’t get to see more.

        By the time we finished eating and cleaning up, it was almost dark. Karen helped me store our stuff in the trunk of the car, and then we went into our tent. Since it wasn’t quite tall enough for us to stand up in, we crawled into the sleeping bag and wriggled out of our clothes. I left the tent flaps open so we would be able to look out at the sky and stars. Our uninhibited neighbors had finished their cleaning up, and I fully expected that any minute they would take down their tent and pack up to leave. I was somewhat surprised when, instead, they got a pair of sleeping bags from their car and unrolled them on the floor of their tent. I could just make out their outlines in the moonlight. “Looks like they’re staying,” I whispered to Karen. “Too bad it’s dark, or I’ll bet we’d really see something.” As I spoke, the young man struck a match. In the light of the flickering flame, I could see them both clearly through the transparent walls of their tent. A moment later, the tableau was brightly illuminated. He had lit a lantern and hung it from one of the inside tent poles.

        Karen and I stared wide-eyed as the woman undid the buttons of her boyfriend’s pants and began pushing them down over his hips. He wore no underwear, and his semi-erect cock sprang immediately into view. He stood like that with his jeans halfway down his thighs while she stroked him to total hardness. Then he stepped out of them, drew his shirt off over his head, and posed totally naked. Karen was trying not to show it, but I could see that she was fascinated by the sight of his organ. “It’s big, all right,” I whispered, to let her know that I didn’t mind her looking. “This may tum out to be better than we expected.” I could feel my wife’s hand moving across my thigh, seeking my swollen penis.

        We watched together as the man in the tent drew the woman’s sweatshirt slowly off her. When she was naked from the waist up, she arched her back, thrusting her youthful breasts in our direction. She cupped the pale globes in her hands and lifted them slightly, as if offering them for our enjoyment. ”They know we’re watching,” I whispered to Karen. ”They want us to see them. I’ll bet that’s why they picked this particular campsite.” “Do you really think so, Neal?” my wife asked, incredulous. “Of course,” I answered. “Just watch. If they really wanted privacy, they wouldn’t keep the lantern on. I’ll bet they don’t put it out.” I was right. Without even turning their backs, they moved into each other’s arms and embraced. We could see her breasts pressing flat against his chest, her pink nipples raking his skin. His hands were working on the buttons at the front of her jeans. As they kissed, he undid them and slipped the denim garment down over her hips. She wore nothing now but a wisp of red lace across her loins. The tiny triangle of material framed the white melons of her ass, pulling tight into the valley between them.

        A moment later, he fell to his knees in front of her and pressed his face to her groin, slowly drawing the panties down her shapely legs. Her curling delta of venus was dark and mysterious, clearly visible to our gaze when he drew his face back for a long thorough look of his own. Then he pressed forward again, nuzzling at her sex with his nose and lips. From the expression of bliss that came over her face and the sounds of pleasure that issued from her throat, his tongue must have been probing her slit. I heard Karen’s breathing deepen as she pressed herself against me. Her hand was moving quickly up and down over my throbbing erection, bringing waves of sensation to my entire body. I could feel my wife’s big breasts soft against my naked chest. I could smell the spicy scent of her arousal as we watched the young couple perform in the bright light of their lantern.

        The woman bent her knees slightly to open herself wider, reaching down with both hands to grab him by the hair and pull his face more tightly against her. He held her buttocks in his hands, his fingers digging into the white flesh, kneading and squeezing as he drew her more firmly against him. She began to sob, twisting her face into a mask of passion. “Oh,” we heard her wail. “I’m going to come. Oh, yes, lick me. Oh, suck me. Oh, yes, I’m going to come.” Karen’s fingertips were grazing lightly over the skin of my scrotum and the base of my penis, sending thrills of excitement all through me. She rolled onto her back and pulled me toward her, using my cock as a handle. I mounted her and moved my hips forward as she guided me into her. When we looked across the clearing again, the woman was getting down onto her hands and knees. She was facing away from us, and we could look right into the open plane of her sex, her ass and pussy totally exposed to our hungry eyes. Some of the pubic hair grew back into her crack to frame the winking eye of her anus.

        He stood over her, staring down at her nakedness and stroking himself casually, as if giving us a chance to get a good long look before mounting her. Then, squatting behind her, he held his stiff cock in his fingers and inched toward her. Because of the angle of their bodies, we could see clearly the tip of his erection approaching her open slit. Bending over her, he placed his hands on her shoulders and thrust his hips forward, doglike, to bury himself deep inside her. We could see the end of his penis pressing against the lips of her pussy, . spreading the wet flanges until the opening turned inward to accept him. Then, as we watched, his dick disappeared inside her in one long, slow, sinking stroke. Rhythmically, he moved forward and back, his testicles swinging with each motion. He increased the momentum of his thrusts until his sac struck her white skin every time he drove into her.

        Unconsciously, Karen and I matched their bouncing rhythm. My wife’s back arched and her hips thrust upward to meet my drives. Her legs wrapped tightly around my thighs. Our bodies melted together as we openly stared at the copulating couple. The girl was sobbing and throwing her ass back at her lover. “I’m going to come again,” she cried. “I’m going to come again. Oh, pump your come into me. Fill me up with it. Come with me. Come with me. Come with me.” Her words became a rhythmic chanting song that seemed to carry him to the point of orgasm. “Yes,” he groaned loudly. “I’m going to shoot it to you.” He made a sound like a wild animal caught in a trap and seemed to lose control of his body, bucking and thrusting violently. At that very moment, I felt my own orgasm begin. I looked down at Karen and saw that she was looking back at me. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, Neal. I’m ready, too.” As if her words gave me the permission I needed, I immediately began shooting my sperm inside her. Karen stiffened and relaxed, her body sending signals of climax that I had long ago learned to recognize. We got so wrapped up in our own orgasms that for a few moments we completely lost track of the other couple. When we looked at them again, the young woman was lying face down on her sleeping bag with her man on top of her. His cock remained buried inside her, but their bodies were still.

        Karen and I dozed for a while. When we woke up a few hours later, the lantern in the other tent had been turned off, and the night was totally dark. We whispered softly about what we had witnessed until we were both tremendously aroused. Then we made love again. We made love twice more that night, stimulated by our voyeuristic experience. When the sun woke us the following morning, the young couple was gone, leaving no evidence that they had ever been there. The campground remained pretty much deserted the next day, so we decided to stay another night. Several times during the day we slipped into our tent for more sex. Neither of us seemed able to get enough. Neither one of us could get the visions of what we had seen out of our minds.

        To this day we talk about that episode whenever we want to add a little more excitement to our lovemaking. It has given us some pretty good times. But I’d have to say that the best sex we ever had occurred that World Series weekend when we camped and watched.

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          EXHIBITIONISTS

          Tuesday, December 1st, 2015

          Marla is five feet four inches call with long, thick red hair. The freckles covering her face and throat make her look younger than her twenty-six years. Marla teaches yoga at a community college. Her passion for yoga has made her body lithe and supple with a narrow waist that fl.ares out to wide, sensuous hips. She has been living with her boyfriend, Dan, a computer systems analyst, for the past eight months. Marla says her most erotic experience occurred one night when she and Dan were visiting friends. Her saucershaped brown eyes flash with suppressed merriment as she describes it to us.

          Dan and Tony have been friends for years. Ever since Dan and I started dating, we’ve spent lots of time with Tony and his girlfriend, Celeste. They’re fun people, and we always laugh a lot when we’re together. Tony’s an accountant, and I guess I always expected accountants to be dull. But Tony isn’t. Of course, he’s not just an ordinary accountant. He works for a movie company, and maybe that makes his job kind of glamorous. He usually has all the inside gossip about what’s going on in Hollywood. You know, who’s sleeping with who, that sort of thing. Celeste is terrific, too. Spontaneous and impulsive. Anything to have a good time. She’s never afraid of trying something new. She works as a legal secretary for a big downtown law firm. The two of us hit it off right from the beginning. Anyway, one evening a few months ago, Tony called to invite us over for drinks. We really felt like staying home. Actually, we were planning to go to bed early for some hot sex. Dan didn’t say that to Tony, of course. He just said we were kind of tired.

          But Tony insisted. He said that he had something for us to see, and it had to be that night. He absolutely wouldn’t take no for an answer. He said he was already popping the cork out of the wine bottle and would be expecting us within a half hour. Before Dan could make any more excuses, Tony just hung up. We always dress casual when we go to Tony and Celeste’s, so we just combed our hair and went as we were. Dan was wearing sweats-a kind of jogging suit, really. I had on jeans and a Western-style shirt with snaps down the front. When we got to Tony’s apartment, Celeste greeted us with hugs. “Come on in,” she invited. “The wine is waiting.” The four of us sat on the sectional sofa around the cocktail table in the living room, chatting and sipping red wine. After a while, Dan said, “So what’s the big surprise? And why did it have to be tonight?”

          A mischievous smile played over Tony’s face. “Wait till you see what I’ve got,” he said. “You won’t be sorry you came. You think you were fooling me with that bullshit about going to bed early because you were tired? You were going to bed early, all right, but not because you were tired. Screwing! That’s what you had in mind. Don’t try to kid me. But, believe me, you’re going to be glad you stayed up for this.”

          I was dying of curiosity. “What is it?” I asked eagerly. “What is this all about?” Tony went into the bedroom for a moment and returned with a videotape in his hand. “I’ve got a piece of film here with two of America’s biggest movie stars in some of the hottest sex scenes ever recorded. Some of these scenes were so explicit that they had to be taken out of the film to keep it from getting an X rating. Others are just plain bloopers. It’s a shame, but after tomorrow nobody’s ever going to get to see them. All copies are to be destroyed at nine A.M. in the editing room. I’ve got a friend who smuggled this one out for me, but he made me promise that I wouldn’t make copies and that I’d never tell anyone I’d seen it. I’ve got to return it to him first thing in the morning.”

          I was intrigued. When Tony dimmed the lights and popped this video on his phone, I stared at the screen. Some numbers flashed across the screen to identify the scene and take. And then it began. I wish I could tell you who the two movie stars were, but Tony made us promise that we never would. He said that if anyone found out he had shown us this film, he and his friend would both lose their jobs and would probably never work in the industry again. I can say this, though. The male star is someone that you’ve probably seen in at least ten movies. And if you haven’t fantasized about being kissed by him, you’re just not a normal red .. blooded woman. The female hasn’t been around quite as long, but you’d recognize her name if you heard it. She’s one of the up and-coming young starlets, and everyone is predicting that she’ll be the sex goddess of the nineties. Some say she’s the new Marilyn Monroe.

          When the scene opened, the two stars were in bed embracing. Although they were naked, all you could really see was their bare asses. I wondered why this scene had to be removed. I had seen plenty of movies that showed more than that. Then they broke the embrace, and I understood. When he rolled over, his mammoth erection was standing straight up in the air.

          A voice in the background shouted, “Cut!” but the action continued. This particular actor is known as a macho man, and he sure had the dick to prove it. It was thick and long and looked as hard as a tree trunk. I couldn’t help staring at it. I mean, I’ve probably imagined that thing every time I’ve seen him on the screen. He’s so sexy you can’t help it. And here he was lying back and showing it to the world. I felt myself becoming excited immediately. The actress didn’t react that way, though. She started to laugh explosively, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. You could tell she had totally lost it. She kept laughing, her body flopping hopelessly about on the bed. She was laughing so convulsively that at one point she threw her legs out in both directions, totally exposing her pussy. I could see Dan’s attention focusing on the screen. I couldn’t blame him, of course. It was so exciting to see those movie stars all naked that way.

          “You can’t show a stiff dick in the movies,” the starlet sputtered between choking laughs. The male star was laughing too, but that didn’t do anything to reduce the size of his hard-on. “You’ll get the whole production company arrested,” she said. “What the hell am I supposed to do about it,” he said, roaring with uninhibited laughter. “I’m in bed with the sexiest woman in Hollywood. Don’t blame me, blame him.” He pointed dramatically at his penis, absolving himself of all responsibility. “Well, we’ll have to do something,” she said, her body shaking with amusement. “Here, I’ll take care of it. Then we can get on with making this film.” With that, she grabbed his penis in her hand and began jerking it vigorously up and down, still laughing. Her actions were making his laughter subside until it became more like a moan. A voice kept shouting ”Cut! Cut!” But no one was cutting anything.

          The actress continued rubbing his dick, her movements no longer quite as rough. Her rhythm was slower and more in tune to the involuntary gyrations of his hips. He wasn’t laughing at all now. His eyes were closed and his body was rocking. The sight of my film idol getting a handjob was really affecting me. I could feel myself becoming wet in the pants. It must have been arousing Dan too, because he moved over closer to me and put his arm around my shoulders. The big cock on the screen seemed to be growing even bigger, swelling and turning beet red as the stroking became more loving than playful. I was sure that the screen would go black at any minute, but it didn’t. I was glad. I wanted to see more. There’s something exciting about seeing other people make love. And when they’re movie stars, it’s major erotic.

          I tried to imagine what it was like for the actress to be jerking off that gorgeous hunk. Judging from the expression on her face, she was enjoying it. She was obviously the kind of woman who really got into sex. She was staring at the throbbing erection with the same fascination that I was. As we both watched it, it seemed to rear back, getting ready to buck. The camera zoomed in on the bulbous head just as the first whirling white drop of semen shot out of it. The thick liquid flew from the tip of that movie star’s dick with the power of a shot fired from a cannon. Then it was followed by another. And another. I think that watching a man come is about the most intimate thing you can do. But watching this particular man come was almost too exciting for me to bear.

          I heard the sound of heavy breathing and realized it was my own. Dan must have heard it too, because he pulled me toward him and patted my breast with his hand, whispering seductively, “Pretty hot, isn’t it?” I felt my nipples growing rock hard against the inside of my bra. To my disappointment, the screen faded to black. Almost immediately, numbers flashed again. “This is the next take of that same scene,” Tony said. “That handjob cost the studio a few thousand bucks. They had to wait an hour before the star was ready to work again, while everybody on the set continued to get paid.”

          “How many people were on the set?” my curiosity prompted me to ask. The idea intrigued me… Tony, with his accountant’s brain, knew exactly. “With the cameramen, the production staff, and the gofers,” he said, “there were seventeen. Not counting the actors.” “Seventeen,” I echoed. “God, it must have been exciting for the actors to be doing that in front of seventeen people. I can just imagine.” “Exciting?” Celeste said. “I would be too embarrassed to get excited. But I’ll bet it was thrilling to be one of the people watching. Now that’s something I could really get excited about.”

          On the screen, the second take of the scene began the way it had the first time, with the actor and actress on the bed tightly embracing in the nude. They kissed for a while, and then he slipped his hand between their bodies to fondle one of her breasts. She moved back slightly so that we could see the rounded fullness of her. Her nipple was cherry red and hard. This may have been only a scene in a movie, but that nipple erection was no act. His head dipped to stroke her breasts with his cheek before he took the erect nipple in his mouth. I felt Dan’s thigh pressing mine as he pulled me tight against him. He began stroking my breasts through my shirt with both his hands. I watched the lovers on the screen while I let Dan feel me up. It was so exciting. When I felt the top two snaps of my shirt pop open, I purred. As Dan slipped a hand inside, I felt another snap open. Grabbing the front of my shirt, I pulled sharply, opening the rest of the snaps in a single stroke.

          The movie star’s mouth was moving from one erect nipple to the other as Dan stroked me through the satin fabric of my bra. I ached for my breasts to be free. I wanted to feel his breath on them. I wanted his tongue to touch and tease them. I wanted to feel what the actress was feeling. With swift fingers, I undid the fastener at the front of my bra and shrugged it open. Dan cupped my breasts in his hands and squeezed them softly. For the moment, we had both forgotten that we were not alone. “Oh, Dan,” I moaned as his :fingers played with my exposed breasts. “Oh, yes. That feels so good.” Tony’s voice brought me back. “Hey, you guys,” he said. “What are you going to do, fuck right here?” I felt a tingling in my pussy. Tony might have been kidding, but his suggestion excited me. Dan started to pull away from my tits, but I covered his hands with mine and held them in place. “That’s a hot idea,” I said softly, looking to Tony and Celeste for a response.

          Celeste’s breathing was deep and labored, her bosom rising and falling with each inhale and exhale. “I think it’s a hot idea, too,” she said in a voice that trembled with excitement. “Why don’t you go for it, Marla?” “Well, I certainly have no objection,” Tony added, his voice sounding nervously eager. “Now it’s up to Dan,” I said, freeing his hands and leaning back to give him full access to my breasts. My boyfriend hesitated for a split second and then, without a word, fell . forward, taking one of my nipples in his mouth and sucking gently on it.

          The couple on the screen were fucking now, but we were too involved in our own activity to give them any more attention. As Dan licked my breasts, his hands worked my shirt and bra off over my shoulders and arms. It was exciting to be exposed in front of our friends’ watching eyes. Dan cupped my breasts with his hands as I helped him out of his jogging suit. When he was naked, he stood up, his hard cock pointing straight out in front of him. Then he drew me to my feet and started unbuttoning my jeans. I had a sense of unreality. I couldn’t believe it was happening. He slid the jeans down to where I could step out of them, leaving me clad only in my white cotton panties.

          Taking my hand, Dan turned me in a complete circle, so that .Tony and Celeste could see every part of me. I could feel their eyes burning my skin, arousing me more than I had ever been aroused before. I was acutely conscious of the triangle of red hair that almost showed through the thin fabric of my panties. I wanted to be completely naked. I wanted nothing hidden. Without waiting for Dan’s next move, I stripped the panties off and tossed them out of the way. I stroked my curling bush and pressed the palm of one hand against my moist slit. “Come on, Dan,” I whispered hoarsely. “I want you to do me while Tony and Celeste watch.” I moved to the couch and lay back on it, slowly parting my legs so that they could look between them. The idea of being on display for the hungry, lustful gaze of our best friends had my juices flowing incredibly.

          Dan moved slowly toward me, his erection bobbing up and down with each step. His cock was beautiful, but all the eyes in the room, even Celeste’s, were on me. Dan sat on the couch beside me and stared into my slit. Softly, he touched its lips with the fingers of both hands, spreading them to tum my pussy into a blossoming flower. I could feel the stares as his fingertips stroked and petted the moist folds of flesh. I closed my eyes in pleasure and then forced them open again so that I could see the people who were watching me. Celeste had the glazed look of someone in a hypnotic trance. Tony was leaning forward in his seat so that he wouldn’t miss a thing. When Dan slipped one thick finger inside my pussy, I heard Celeste sigh quietly. A moment later, she was sitting on Tony’s lap and kissing him, while her eyes remained open and fastened on me.

          Dan stroked his finger in and out of me until it was gleaming with the wetness of my sex. My hips moved rhythmically up and down, matching the tempo of his movement. I could hear the slurping noises made by my juices as his finger whipped them to a froth. When I remembered that our friends could hear the same sounds, I got even wetter. Dan slipped a second finger in now, stretching me open wider as if to prepare me for the onslaught of his cock.

          I kissed Dan’s ear, bathing it with the tip of my tongue, and whispered in a voice loud enough for Celeste and Tony to hear, “I think they like it. Why don’t you fuck me now and really give them something to look at.” With his hands, Dan guided me from the couch to the floor. He stood over me, his feet apart and his back to the watchful couple on the couch. Gracefully, he lowered himself to his knees, shuffling forward an inch at a time until I could feel the heat of his body radiating against my skin. I placed the backs of my ankles on his shoulders as he hunched forward. The tip of his swollen penis was nudging at me now. I wanted to throw myself upward to swallow it in a single thrust, but I knew it would be best if I left everything to Dan’s superb sense of timing. He can stretch out the actual penetration so long that it seems to go on forever.

          I wanted to scream with hungry desperation. Then I felt the head of his penis spreading my labia as he buried his massive hard-on inside me by slow and steady degrees. I groaned, conscious somewhere in the bottom of my being that our audience was waiting, breathless, for him to drive it into me to the hilt. I always . liked fucking in this position because it made possible the deepest kind of penetration. I groaned again as I felt the mass of him strike against my cervix. Arching my back, I lifted my sex up .to him, silently begging for the last inch of his cock. With a bestial grunt, he rammed forward, giving me his all.

          I sobbed with emotion as he began fucking in and out of me. as hard as he could with long driving strokes. His forward thrust dragged a groan from my throat, followed an instant later by the groans of Celeste and Tony. Knowing that they were watching us have sex on their living room floor increased my excitement. I never realized before what an exhibitionist I was, or how thrilling it could be to be the center of everyone’s erotic attention. My entire body was bathed in sweat.

          I groaned. I sighed. I moaned. I went wild. I was like a wild animal, humping vigorously to match the violence of his thrusts. Our excitement was so intense that I knew neither of us would be able to keep this up for very long. Never before had I experienced a passion of such power. I could feel my climax building. I knew Dan well enough to know that his, too, was just an instant away. uoh, Dan,” I wailed. “I’m going to come. Oh, Tony. Oh, Celeste. Watch me. Watch me. Watch me.” That was it; the waiting time was over. Like a dam bursting, my climax over .. took me, drowning all thought, flushing away all contact with reality. For a few moments, I was lost.

          Dan’s voice brought me back. “I’m coming, too,” he groaned. His ass bucked ferociously as he pumped his semen deep into my tunnel. I felt his hard-on throbbing inside me and I was suddenly aware again of our audience. I moaned for them as much as for myself. Dan and I kept rolling together until our energy ran out. I lowered my legs. With a sigh, Dan slumped forward to come to rest on top of me. We lay that way for a while, Dan with his eyes closed while I watched Tony and Celeste kissing deeply. The TV screen had gone dark. Tony broke the kiss and glanced at us, as if to assure himself that our performance had really ended. He rose to his feet, lifting Celeste into his arms, and said, “We’re going to the privacy of our own bedroom now. But when we close our eyes, you can be sure we’ll be seeing you.” Carrying his girlfriend out of the room, he was gone.

          Dan and I dressed hurriedly, eager to rush home to make love again. Which we did. Putting on that erotic performance for Tony and Celeste had whipped us up to a pitch of excitement that didn’t subside for weeks. In a way, it never sub.. sided. Dan and I have fantastic sex almost every night. But without a doubt, the best sex we ever had was the night we did it for an audience.

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            SEEING AND BEING SEEN

            Tuesday, December 1st, 2015

            No race of creatures can exist unless it is endowed with a desire for reproduction. In order to strengthen this desire in humans, Nature decorated our reproductive organs with tufts of curling hair and splashes of dramatic color to make them particularly interesting. In addition, our brains were wired with circuits that excite us upon seeing another’s naked body or knowing that another is looking at ours. Humans are not the only animals on Earth that have been blessed in these ways. Baboons wear bright colors to call attention to their genitals. Female goats who want sex wave their tails repeatedly so that the sight of their distended pudenda will attract males. When animals see other animals having intercourse, they may become so aroused that they are driven to a frenzy of violent sexual activity themselves.

            Prohibitions against public sex are common in human societies. Some analysts claim that these rules exist because of fears that such displays will excite bystanders to the point of uncontrollable eroticism. In addition to disrupting the social order, there is the danger that this will interfere with productivity and promote physical aggression. As a result, we are trained, from the time of our births, to believe that sex should happen only behind closed doors and shuttered windows. We learn to call our sex organs “private parts” and to regard people who display them as perverts or even criminals. We have laws that prohibit the exposure of the breasts and regulate the size and shape of bikinis worn on public beaches.

            Most people can live comfortably with these rules. For some, however, the desire to see and be seen is a powerful erotic stimulant. When faced with the opportunity to observe others engaging in sex, they seize it without hesitation. When given the occasion to exhibit their own sexuality, they jump at the chance. These experiences are so unusual that those who have known them frequently declare that they were the best sex they ever had.

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              MIXED DOUBLES

              Monday, November 30th, 2015

              At thirty-six, Sid appears ten years younger. His small wiry body is agile and firm. His brown eyes are clear and sparkling. His hair is dark and expensively groomed. Sid, an investment broker, spends two or three days a week on the golf course, where he conducts a substantial portion of his business. His petite wife, Emily, thirty-four, is a licensed interior designer. Sid says that he and Emily had their best sex ever when they reunited with their old college flames.

              Emily and I give a lot of parties. My business pretty much requires it. People let me invest millions of dollars for them. Let’s face it, nobody likes to trust a stranger with that kind of money. So I’ve always thought it a good practice to make my clients think of me not just as a broker but as a friend, too. When we bought our house, we looked for a place that would be right for entertaining. The dining room seats thirty or forty people comfortably, and in warm weather, our parties usually spill over onto the patio. We’re on top of a hill, with no neighbors in the immediate vicinity, so we never have to worry about noise and we can have live bands whenever we choose to. On this particular night, there were about twenty couples, all laughing and drinking and dancing and having a good time. Emily and I were taking turns answering the door to welcome latecomers. It was my tum when the Baxters arrived. There was another couple with them.

              “I hope you don’t mind,” Jim Baxter said, shaking my hand and moving off to one side. ”Bruce and Lois dropped in on us as we were getting ready to leave for your party. When we told them where we were going, they insisted on coming along. Bruce says that you all knew each other back in college.” “That’s right,” I answered, shaking hands with Bruce and kissing Lois on the cheek. “We haven’t seen each other in years. Thanks for bringing them, Jim.” I really was glad to see them. Actually, we were more than old college buddies. Although Bruce had majored in psychology while I was working toward my MBA, we both belonged to the same fraternity and saw quite a bit of each other. But there was more to it than that.

              Bruce and my wife, Emily, had dated for almost two years and were practically engaged at one point. Emily told me that the engagement was the reason their relationship ended. Dating had been fine, but when they got serious about marriage, she realized that Bruce was not the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Lois and I, on the other hand, had never gotten serious about anything, although we had lived together for about nine months. Neither of us had ever really expected our relationship to last. It was never more than one of those college things that seemed right at the time. That had been good enough for us. Lois and I had broken up on good terms. Soon afterward, she started going out with Bruce. After college we sort of drifted apart. Then, a year or so later, I heard that Bruce and Lois got married. I had first met Emily when she was engaged to Bruce, but we didn’t really get to know each other until about four years ago. It was quite a coincidence. I called an agency to have my apartment redecorated, and Emily was the decorator they sent. We recognized each other right away and started talking about all the people we used to know. Well, there just wasn’t time in the workday for all the catching up we had to do, so I asked her to have dinner with me. We hit it off immediately, and I guess you could say we’ve been having dinner together ever since. We were married just a few months later.

              After greeting Bruce and Lois, I led them through the crowd in search of Emily. She was surprlsed and glad to see them. We were so busy with our other guests during the course of the evening, though, that neither of us had much time to spend with our old friends. Later, as the crowd began to thin, Emily suggested that Bruce and Lois stay after everyone else was gone so that we could all get reacquainted. We sat on the patio together, sharing several bottles of wine and bringing one another up to date. They were living on the East Coast and had come to town for Bruce to attend a conference. He was a psychologist with a successful practice and had written several pop-psych books that placed him somewhat in demand as a speaker. His age was showing a bit, but Lois looked young and ravishing. While her husband cured the neuroses of society, she spent her time tanning, swimming, and exercising her trim body.

              As I looked at her, I found myself remembering the old days when we would lie in bed together making love for hours at a time. I guess I was undressing her in my. head as the four of us chatted and got tipsy. When Emily suggested that we all soak in the Jacuzzi, it sounded like a great idea to me. Lois asked if she could borrow a bathing suit. “What for?” I said. “We’re all grown-ups, and none of us will be seeing anything we haven’t seen before. So why bother with suits?”

              I don’t know what would have happened if we hadn’t all consumed as much wine as we did, but as it was, everybody found my suggestion appealing. Within minutes, we were all nude and climbing into the bubbling spa. Bruce stared openly at my wife, appraising her naked body without pretense. “Emily,” he said, sitting on the concrete bench in the spa. “You look terrific. You really haven’t changed a bit.” Emily smiled and sort of pranced in the churning water. “Except,” he added thoughtfully, “I think your tits might be sagging a little.” Emily looked challenged. “What?” she sputtered. “My tits don’t sag at all. They’re just as firm as they ever were.” Stepping up in front of where Bruce was sitting, she pushed her shoulders back to thrust her breasts forward. “Here,” she said. “Feel for yourself.”

              Before I had a chance to react, Bruce boldly cupped my wife’s breasts in his hands, squeezing gently as if to measure their heft. I could see her pink nipples hardening. Without letting go, he said, “No, you’re right. These tits are every bit as firm as the last time I held them.” I didn’t exactly know why, but I felt my cock stirring. Still holding Emily’s boobs, Bruce said, “Most psychologists believe that there is no jealousy in true love.” Turning . suddenly to me, he asked, “Well, Sid. ls your love for Emily true? Or is it making you jealous to see me fondling her tits?” A worried look passed across Emily’s face, but she just stood there allowing him to handle her. “Not at all,” I answered. “In fact, I’m finding it rather exciting.” I looked at Emily and saw her smile with relief. “But do you practice what you preach?” I asked. “What if I felt Lois’s ass? Would that bother you?”

              As I spoke, I moved in front of where Lois was standing and looked her in. the eye. Her expression gave me permission. Reaching around her, I took her buttocks in my hands and stroked them gently. My cock became rock hard instantly as I caressed my former girlfriend while her husband and my wife looked on.

              “It doesn’t bother me at all,” Bruce answered. I could see that he also had a hard-on. “After all, you probably screwed her a thousand times before she started going out with me. What difference would it make if you did it again now?” At his words, Lois reached down and grabbed my cock. “I’d love it,” she said. “I’d love to fuck you again. For old times’ sake. That is, if it would be all right with Emily.” I knew my wife well enough to recognize the look of desire passing across her face. It was obvious that she was enjoying the touch of Bruce’s fingers, which had now moved to her nipples where they were tracing little circles. It was also obvious that she was intrigued by the idea of watching me and Lois get it on.

              I realized that if I did it with Lois, I would, in effect, be giving my wife permission to do it with Bruce. But I did not find the thought at all distasteful. What Bruce said made a lot of sense to me. They did plenty of fucking when they were engaged. I always knew that, of course, and it never was a problem for me. In fact, occasionally I used to imagine the two of them together, and the image always turned me on. I like to think of myself as open-minded where sex is concerned. I don’t have a problem with jealousy, and as far as I know, neither does Emily. What we know about each other’s past relationships never interferes with Emily’s feelings for me or with my feelings for her. Why should it matter if she and her former lover had sex again now? Actually, the thought of watching Emily with Bruce while I did it with Lois was very exciting.

              It must have had the same effect on Emily. Her husky voice could barely be heard over the sound of the Jacuzzi as she said, “Yes. I love the idea. Let’s have an orgy.” The moment the words left Emily’s lips, Lois began stroking my erection up and down. Having received Emily’s consent, I abandoned myself to sex with Bruce’s wife. Clutching the cheeks of her ass, I pulled her a8ainst me until the tip of my dick was grazing the patch of curly hair around her pussy.

              “Yes,” she whispered, placing her lips against my ear and running her tongue over it. She moved her hips from side to side, rubbing her pubis against my erect penis and pressing her breasts tightly against my chest. I could feel her hard nipples boring into me like diamond-tipped drills. My fingers began searching between the round cheeks of her ass for the tight little crevasse that I knew nestled in the valley. When I found it, I nudged lightly at it. Lois always was sensitive back there and I always knew that I could whip her up to feverish passion by caressing her between the cheeks.

              She was groaning with complete lack of inhibition, her eyes shut tight and her mouth wide open. Allowing the heated water to buoy her up, she wrapped her legs around mine and thrust her pelvis toward me, all the while chewing and nibbling at my ear. “Yes,” she moaned. “Put your cock in me. Fuck me. Just like you used to.” Her words sent chills through my pulsating body, increasing my excitement. I humped forward, aiming my throbbing cock for her opening. When I felt it encounter the lips o( her pussy, I hesitated for a moment, savoring the pleasure of anticipation. “Put it in me,” she commanded, her voice becoming louder. “Put your big cock in me while Emily and Bruce watch. I want them to see it. I want them to see you fucking me.”

              I had to tighten all the muscles in my groin to keep from coming instantly. For a few moments, I had been lost, so absorbed in the ecstasy of sexual contact with Lois that I forgot where we were and who we were with. Her words brought me back to a reality that carried my arousal to a peak. Looking over Lois’s shoulder, I saw my wife in the embrace of her former fiance. They were kissing, their tongues probing deep in each other’s mouths. One of Bruce’s arms was around Emily’s waist, pulling her against him, while his other hand played with her breasts, gently pinching and rolling the nipples. Emily’s hands were between their bodies. Although I couldn’t see them, it was clear that she was holding and rubbing his cock beneath the bubbly water. Emily’s eyes were open, staring at Lois and me. Without making a sound, she moved her lips, mouthing at me the words, “Fuck her.” I was so excited I thought I’d have a heart attack. My throbbing dick found its mark and was beginning to force its way between the resilient lips of Lois’s pussy. She groaned,· exaggerating a bit for dramatic effect, acutely aware of Emily’s staring eyes upon us. “Yes,” Lois hissed as my cock slowly entered her. “Yes, you’re in me. Oooh, you’re inside me. Oooh, Bruce, watch us. He’s fucking me. Sid is fucking me.” “I know,” Bruce answered, his breathing labored. “I’m watching you. I see everything. Oh, yes, Sid, do it. I’m going to do it to Emily now. May I, Emily?” “Yes,” Emily responded, almost singing the word. “Yes, Bruce, put it in me.”

              I was all the way inside Lois now, our bodies grinding together in the swirling water of the bubbling spa. With her legs wrapped around mine, I turned so that we could watch our spouses as we plunged in intercourse. I saw Bruce drive his hips forward and heard Emily groan. I couldn’t see their genitals, but I was sure that he had penetrated my wife the way I was penetrating Lois. The air was filled with sex. It mingled with the steamy vapors rising from the churning whirlpool to create the erotic atmosphere of a sultry swamp. The music of our moans and sobs was a symphony of desire. It was like an orgy at a public bath in ancient Rome.

              I felt the membranes of Lois’s pussy cling lovingly to my thrusting staff, but my pleasure far exceeded what resulted from the gentle friction. There was something so thrilling that I can’t even describe in the sensation of fucking another man’s wife while he and my wife watched. Seeing the two of them going at it at the same time is what really drove me to the top. I knew exactly how it felt to be inside Emily’s pussy and I could imagine what Bruce was experiencing. My wife’s facial expressions told me exactly what she was doing with the muscles of her pelvis. The fascination of watching her do it to another man brought me to a new high. Sex with Emily is totally different from sex with Lois. When I’m inside Emily, her vaginal tunnel caresses my cock continually, trailing long, soft waves of pleasure over its entire length without stopping. Lois’s pussy seemed to grab at me, squeezing my dick in spurts, With little rest periods in between, each constricting throb more powerful than the last. Fucking Lois and watching Emily with Bruce, I was able to experience both lovemaking styles simultaneously. To magnify the excitement, I realized that all of us were sharing these thoughts and sensations. Emily and Lois were probably comparing my cock to Bruce’s, just as Bruce and I were comparing their vulvas.

              I watched Emily’s body undulate as she impaled herself rhythmically on Bruce’s erection. Her legs were wrapped around his hips. I could see the muscles of his upper thighs straining as he struggled to support her weight while thrusting in and out of her. Emily’s eyes were open, her gaze alternating between Bruce and us. When I saw them begin to glaze over, I knew that her orgasm was approaching. She seemed to retreat into a private world of erotic ecstasy. I realized that each drive of Bruce’s plunging hard-on brought her closer to sexual climax. For the first time I felt a pang of jealousy at the thought that any man besides me could bring her that much pleasure. Then she started making sounds that told me her orgasm was beginning, and somehow my jealousy drowned in the erotic flood.

              The sights and sounds and sensations were all uniting to bring me to sexual completion. Lois was panting and sobbing in my ear, thoroughly aroused at witnessing the release of Emily’s passion. It had been so long since she and I had made love that I didn’t know· how to read her signs. Heroically, I struggled to hold back my onslaught, to be sure that Lois was satisfied before I let go. But the surge was much too strong to be controlled. I couldn’t wait any longer.

              Like a rocket smashing the sound barrier, my orgasm burst forth through my feeble resistance. For a moment I lost all awareness, conscious only of the streams of fluid that I was pumping deep into Lois’s hungry loins. I returned to my surroundings in time to realize that all four of us were coming together. Lois’s cries blended symphonically with Emily’s; my gasping breaths harmonized with the grunting intonations of Bruce’s masculine voice. The heated water of the spa seemed to melt us all down into a single seething organism instead of four individual beings.

              Once again, I lost consciousness of reality. I drifted off on a plane of erotic fulfillment until, without quite knowing how I got there, I found myself sitting in the bubbling water with my wife on my lap. Looking across the churning pool, I saw Lois resting in her husband’s arms. We were all back where we belonged. . Later that night when Emily and I were alone, we talked about the events of the evening. Emily found the whole episode very exciting, but admitted that she too experienced some jealousy at times. We agreed that although it might have been the best sex we ever had, it was the kind of thing you do maybe once in a lifetime.

              Since then we’ve continued to have a great life together. Sex is always beautiful for us, and neither of us ever wants to make love with anybody else. But every now and then, especially when we’re having sex in the Jacuzzi, we talk about the night we got together with our old partners and had our little orgy.

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                MORE THAN TWO

                Monday, November 30th, 2015

                Although very few have actually experienced it, many people are stimulated by the thought of group sex. Knowing this, authors of pornographic novels and producers of X-rated films routinely fill their work with scenes involving more than two people. Obviously, the idea is not new. Similar depictions appeared on Greek vases in the fifth century B.c. and on the walls of ancient Indian temples. Group sex generally comes in two varieties. In one form, two or more couples make love in the same room, each stimulated by the presence of the other. They may exchange mates, but each person has only one partner at a time. In the other form, one or more members of the group has several partners simultaneously.

                According to some sources, orgies and “swing parties” were commonplace during the 1970s in every suburban community in the United States. Psychologists and sociologists doubt that this was so. Whatever the actual frequency of group sex in our society, its popular presence in erotic art and entertainment proves that it is on· the minds of many people. In gathering material for Whispered Secrets,* our book about sexual fantasy, we found group-sex fantasies to be among the most common described by the people we interviewed. However, we also found that as a real-life practice, it is rather. unusual. While it may be pleasant to imagine the simultaneous touch of many hands or the taste of many bodies, group sex is not for everyone. Insecurity is often generated by the troubling question: “ls my partner enjoying that other person’s touch more than mine?” The jealousy that results from observing a lover in the arms of another can seriously jeopardize a relationship.

                The people whose stories are told in this blog claim that their experiments caused no damage and, in fact, led to the best sex they ever had. If this is so, they belong to a relatively small and rare breed of human. Even for them, however, these activities are what one described as “the kind of thing you do maybe once in a lifetime.”

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                  EXQUISITE DESSERT

                  Monday, November 30th, 2015

                  Carl, thirty-three, is tall and brawny, carrying 210 pounds on his six-foot frame. His short hair is light brown like his eyes. When he moves, his muscles ripple impressively, muscles developed not from exercising in a gym, but from hard physical labor. Carl started working in construction when he was seventeen. For the past six years, he has owned his own contracting company. His twenty six-year-old wife, Lucy, works as a sales representative for a women’s clothing line. Carl says he and Lucy have their best sex when one plans an erotic surprise for the other .

                  Sex is always good for Lucy and me. I don’t think it’s ever going to get old with us. Probably one of the reasons for it is this little game. we play. We love to surprise each other with unusual sex. Lucy started it all about six years ago. It was just after I got into my own business. We were doing some subcontracting on a tall building that was being constructed in the center of town. One afternoon, just before quitting time, Johnnie, one of my workers, told me that there was a problem on the top floor. He asked me to go up and have a look with him. Now remember, this wasn’t a building yet; just the skeleton of a structure. You know, steel girders and poured concrete floors. Not much more. I followed Johnnie into the cage-the construction elevator. I punched the button for the thirty-seventh floor. Then, just as the cage started going up, Johnnie jumped off, hollering that .he’d see me later. I couldn’t imagine what the hell was going on, but with that elevator, once you punch in the floor number you can’t stop it. So up, up, and away I went. I figured the son of a bitch was playing a joke on me and sending me for a joy ride. I was going to ride down again as soon as the cage got to the top floor so I could have a little talk with Johnnie. But when it stopped, there was a surprise waiting for me. My wife was standing barefoot on the concrete apron by the elevator gate. She was wearing a smile and nothing else.

                  Man, did that turn me on. I mean, here I was right in the middle of the city on the top floor of a completely open structure, with my wife stark naked and her giant tits flapping in the breeze. And let me tell you Lucy’s got some big ones. She’s really a hot-looking woman, about five-seven with a tiny waist and wide hips. Her hair is real dark, almost black, and she’s got a jungle of it down below, if you know what I mean. Everything was showing. I just stood there gawking, with my cock getting hard. “Hi, big boy,” she said, putting on an exaggerated seductive voice. “Glad you could come up and see me.” She opened the elevator gate and grabbed my hand, dragging me out of the cage. Without another word, she unzipped my fly and pulled out my dick, which by now was as hard as an iron bar.

                  Pretty as you please, she dropped to her knees on the rough concrete and started sucking me off. When I felt her hot mouth closing around me, all I could do was concentrate on the sensations. Her tongue was swabbing my tool while the skyscraper wind whistled in the girders around us. It was so sudden and unexpected that I came right away. Lucy kept on sucking me while I pumped and pumped and pumped. My eyes were shut tight, and for an instant I forgot where I was. Just as I finished coming, Lucy started pushing me backward with her hands. When I opened my eyes, I found myself back in the cage. She slammed shut the gate, punched the button for the ground floor, and sent me on my way again. “Nothing like going down,” she called as the cage descended. When I got to the bottom, Johnnie was laughing. She had set up the whole thing with him in advance. “Hey, boss man,” Johnnie teased. “Better zip up your fly.”

                  After that, Lucy and I started to compete with each other to see who could come up with the best erotic surprise. The great thing about that kind of contest is we both are winners. We always try to outdo each other at our little sex game, but I’ve got to take credit for the best one of all. It was when I thought up the idea of surprising her with dessert. It was just a couple of months ago, in fact. In the morning, we agreed to meet after work for a fancy dinner in one of our favorite restaurants. I had been hatching my scheme for a week or two. As soon as Lucy left to go to her job, I got everything ready.

                  That night, we had a couple of drinks and a great dinner. At the end of the meal, the waiter offered to bring coffee and a dessert tray. Lucy was about to order when I interrupted. “I don’t think so,” I said, winking at my wife. “Tonight we’re having dessert at home.” I could tell fro in Lucy’s expression that she got my meaning. She knew a surprise was coming. We practically fell over each other in haste as I paid the bill. Heading home, I don’t know which of us was more eager for the rest of the night to unfold. As soon as we got into the house, I told Lucy to go into the bedroom, get completely undressed, and wait for me on the bed. I went to the kitchen to get the tray that I had prepared earlier and carried it into the bedroom.

                  Lucy had followed my instructions and was lying nude on her back on the shower curtain that I had used to cover the bed. Her legs were spread slightly to give me a view of her pussy. She knows how hot that gets me. “What’s with the plastic sheet?” she asked. Then she sat up to look curiously at the tablecloth I had thrown over the tray. “And what are you hiding under that?” ”Never mind,” I answered. ”Just close your eyes and leave everything to me.” I could tell by the way her nipples got hard that she was excited. She lay back down, closing her eyes submissively. · Taking a jar of honey from the tray, I went to the foot of the bed. I stroked her feet with my hands and then poured some honey onto them. “What are you doing?” she asked, as the thick liquid trickled over and between her toes.

                  I answered without words, lifting her foot to my mouth and closing my lips around her big toe. She sighed softly when I began sucking one toe at a time, dipping my tongue into the spaces between them to lap up every drop of honey. I did the same to her other foot, her body writhing in response to the explorations of my mouth. After I licked all the honey from her feet, I held the jar over her and drizzled long streaks of it up the entire length of her legs, watching it ooze over the insides of her thighs and drip onto the plastic sheet that covered the bed. I also poured a gob of the sticky stuff into the crater of her navel. I could see by the way her pelvis began thrusting that contact with the thick liquid was arousing her. I was in no hurry.

                  Slowly, with light flicks of my tongue, I began licking the honey off her skin. I started at her right ankle and trailed my way up a millimeter at a time, my mouth coming closer and closer to her pussy. The fragrance of her sexual excitement mingled with the sweet scent of honey, creating the most exotic perfume I ever inhaled. I brought my tongue to the edge of her opening and then teased her by changing direction and licking downward, concentrating on the inside of her thigh. She began to moan as I repeated the performance on her other leg, again bringing my mouth to the brink of her sex before heading down toward her ankle. Her hairy mound was rotating in small circles as her excitement built. I placed my hand on the triangle of fur and pressed gently, feeling the moisture of desire oozing between her sex lips. Bending over her, I licked around the outside of her navel, enjoying the sweet flavor of the honey mixed with the salty taste of her excited perspiration. I dipped the tip of my tongue into the golden pool that the nectar formed in the pit of her belly button. She lifted her ass off the mattress, trying to press herself harder against my face, but I pulled back slightly to keep the contact light and teasing.

                  Lucy has a sensitive navel and always likes it when I lick her there in our foreplay. The sticky substance must have increased her sensitivity, because as I lapped at it with hungry strokes of my tongue, her moans got louder. I kept it up until I had swallowed every drop. By now she was beside herself, her body moving violently on the bed. Dipping two of my fingers into the honey jar, I rubbed it softly onto the open lips of her pussy. She practically howled at the touch. I returned to the jar for more, and then did it again, until every bit of pink membrane was shining with the syrupy coating. Pouring generously from the jar, I drenched her clit, watching it swim in the amber fluid.

                  Lucy convulsed with excitement, her hips thrashing from side to side. Her legs spread apart even farther, her sexual opening begging for more attention. The honey on her pussy seemed to be bubbling with her heat. I began rubbing it, inserting my fingers between the lips to carry some of the sweetness inside. With the tips of my index and middle fingers, I traced a circle around the throbbing button of her clit, bringing her almost to the edge of climax. When I stopped, she groaned a plea for satisfaction.

                  In response, I licked lightly at her sex lips. The honey sweetened the spicy female flavor, exciting me almost as much as it was exciting her. I delved deep with the blade of my tongue, plunging it inside to extract the combination of sweet syrup and lovejuice. The sounds she made inspired me to perform intricate maneuvers with my lips and mouth. I turned her pussy inside out to suck hungrily at it. I lapped around its edges, bringing soft cries of desire from her throat. Finally, I closed my mouth around her clit. She practically hit the ceiling. I sucked and I licked, lapping at the sticky syrup that coated her most sensitive spot. The taste was changing, sweetness giving way to the tart erotic savor ofher.preorgasmic secretions. I sucked harder, pressing my mouth tight against her mound to form with my lips a protective circle around her clit. I made a buzzing sound in the back of my throat, which set my whole mouth vibrating to increase her pleasure.

                  With a cry, she reached a climax. Her juices poured from her opening, coating the honeyed walls of her vagina and wetting the insides of her thighs. I licked her until she placed her hands on my head and pushed me away. She lay there panting, trying to calm herself after her explosive orgasm. Before she could completely recuperate, I brought on the second course. Her eyes were open now. She seemed to watch helplessly as I poured warm fudge sauce over and around her breasts. The gooey syrup coated the crinkled red nubbins of her nipples and circled the pebbly disks surrounding them. When the smooth skin of her big round tits was crisscrossed with dark chocolate lines, I sprinkled them with flakes of white candy.

                  Shaking a can of whipped cream, I sprayed a snowy cap onto each of her mountains. I decorated each swelling breast with banana slices and a bright red cherry from a bowl on the tray. I took a plump strawberry and used it to dab some of the fudge sauce from her breast. After dipping it into the whipped cream, I offered it to her, holding the sweetened berry to her lips. After she ate it, I helped myself to one. First I stroked her softly with it, coating the red fruit with syrup. Then I trailed the chocolate-covered strawberry around both nipples, picking up some of the whipped cream and candy flakes. Scooping a banana slice onto the erotic confection, I bit into it, exposing the fleshy inside of the strawberry. I rubbed its juicy surface against her nipple, burrowing through the dollop of whipped cream toward its peak before popping the rest of the berry into my mouth. Lucy was becoming aroused again by our erotic feast. When I started licking the coatings directly from her skin, she moaned. I used my tongue like a paintbrush, dabbing in little strokes that stimulated her to make rhythmic movements with her hips and pelvis. I licked steadily, starting at the base of one breast and trailing my tongue all around it before sliding its tip across the valley of her cleavage to begin on the other. I took my time, coming nearer and nearer to her nipples without actually making contact with them.

                  When I finally had both tits licked clean, I took one nipple in my mouth and sucked on it. By now I knew she was ready to be fucked. It would culminate our erotic dessert. Holding a can of whipped cream in each hand, I garnished the entire front of her body with the fluffy white topping. She made little sobbing sounds as the airy substance swirled and fl.owed over her to tickle and titillate her skin. The warmth of her body made the cream velvety and light,. and sent it seeking its way into her every nook and cranny. When the cream had formed a two-inch cushion that covered her completely, I sprayed the last of it onto my pulsating erection. Lucy’s eyes widened with excitement when she realized what was about to happen.

                  I knelt on the edge of the bed and lowered my body onto hers. The whipped cream compressed between us, our combined body heat melting it a little, making us slick with it. I moved my torso from side to side, slipping and sliding against her. The smoothness of the cream softened the roughness of my skin. I stroked her tits with my chest, feeling my own nipples harden as they made contact with hers. My cock was moving by itself, seeking the heat of her welcoming pussy. Her hips lifted, raising her opening high to make the entry easier. When the throbbing tip found her slit, it fell inside, lubricated by the thick coating of whipped cream. At the moment of penetration we both gasped. Neither one of us was prepared for the sudden rush of ecstasy that swept over us. I plunged forward, burying the entire length of my hard-on within her. We began thrusting together in rhythm. Each in-stroke brought me right to the center of her sex, making my scrotum swing forward to slap gently against her cream-coated ass. When I drew back, the cream glued us together for a moment, connecting our writhing bodies. We continued to slide against each other as we fucked. Lucy wrapped her legs around my waist to keep me from slipping away and to pull me tight against her, my cock driving once more to her center.

                  “Oh, Carl,” she whimpered. “You fuck me so good. Oh, Carl. I’m going to come. Again.” I felt it too, that wonderful friction beginning in my balls and forcing its way up through my cock. With each plundering thrust, the internal tingling increased. It was becoming almost unbearable. We drove harder and deeper, each stroke bringing us closer to a shared orgasm. It hit like a blast of dynamite. I pumped my come into her while she poured her· juices over my cock. The spasms of pleasure had me shuddering and gyrating, oblivious to the world around me. I heard nothing but Lucy’s guttural cries as she rose to sexual satisfaction. We clawed at each other, frantic to extinguish the fires consuming us. We came forever, riding to the heights before drifting slowly back down to earth. When it was over, we were totally exhausted and totally content.

                  Shit, man. That was something.

                  I hope I didn’t shock you with my story or the language I used. You asked me about the best sex I ever had. So I told it like it was.

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                    A GIFT OF SEX

                    Monday, November 30th, 2015

                    Leslie is a petite woman in her late thirties. Her dirty blonde hair is soft and long. Her blue eyes sparkle in a way that suggests a childlike love of good times and fun. Leslie holds a middle-management position in a nationwide corporation. Her husband, Rob, is a civil engineer. Leslie says that the best sex they ever had was the gift that she gave Rob on his thirty-fifth birthday.

                    Rob and I had been married for ten years, and we always had a pretty good sex life. Actually, in the beginning it was fantastic. We made love almost every night and sometimes in the middle of the day on weekends. Then, after a few years, we both got sort of involved in our work until we found we spent more time on it than on anything else in our lives. When we were home, we were both usually pretty tired. And being the parents of two young daughters took a lot out of us. It got to the point where we were having sex only once or twice a week. Well, most of the time, I guess it was more like once a week than twice. We both enjoyed it, but the truth is that sex didn’t seem all that important to either of us anymore. We probably would have gone on that way forever if it hadn’t been for a TV talk show that I saw one afternoon when I stayed home with the flu. The subject was how to keep the spark alive in marriage. One of the women on the show said that she had taken belly-dancing lessons so that she could arouse her husband with sexy entertainment. I was only half interested and wasn’t listening very closely until I heard another woman say that she and her husband liked to surprise each other with gifts of sex. That really captured my attention! I was intrigued, wondering exactly how they did that. You know how television is, though. They talk . about sex quite openly, but then never really give you any details.

                    I thought about it for days afterward and became extremely aroused by the idea. Roh’s birthday was only a few weeks away, and I had been planning to buy him something for his desk. But how exciting it would be if I could surprise him with a gift of sex. I racked my brain trying to figure out what to do. One day I was returning to my office from lunch when I noticed a porno shop. You know, one of those places that sell X-rated videos and products they call “marital aids.” Even though I had passed that little store hundreds of times, I had never given it a thought before. Now, although I didn’t quite know what I had in mind, it occurred to me that I might find something in a shop like that to help me with Rob’s birthday surprise. For a moment, I asked myself, “Should I or shouldn’t I?” Then, before I had time to answer my own question, I brazenly walked inside.

                    It was amazing. The place was like an erotic supermarket. There were quite a few people browsing, and I was kind of surprised to see that they all looked respectable. Each corner of the store was filled with different kinds of erotic objects. I didn’t know where to look first. I was drawn to a rack of lingerie. Certainly, a gift of sex would have to begin with a sexy costume. Ordinarily, I am a conservative dresser, even down to my underwear, which is expensive but usually sensible. The seductive undergarments on display were far from conservative, but I was fascinated by them. I imagined wearing them for Rob and was surprised to find that the thought of parading before him in what I considered to be the attire of a hooker excited me tremendously.

                    There were so many sexy outfits to choose from that I was somewhat intimidated. But I soon got over that and started looking through them just as though I were in a department store. I’m real petite and don’t usually have much to choose · from. But in this store, there were dozens of styles in my size. I decided to pick something red to set off my dark brown hair. To my own amazement, I selected a sheer red peek-a-boo bra with nipple cutouts and matching panties with an open crotch. The seductive openings were trimmed in lace, and I flushed as I imagined it framing the parts that my underwear usually covers. Deep down I didn’t believe that I would really buy or wear garments like that. Other women might, but not me. The whole idea was too kinky. Yet for some reason, I set them aside and continued looking through the lingerie until I found a lacy black garter belt and black fish-net stockings.

                    I placed the red and black wisps of fabric next to each other and tried to picture how they would look on me. Suddenly, I realized that I could go through with it, that it wasn’t all that kinky for me to dress in a way that was designed to turn on my husband. The whole idea of giving Rob a surprise gift of sex began to seem very real to me. I resolved to buy the lingerie and anything else I could find that would help turn his birthday into an erotic event. When I left the porno shop, I was carrying a large bag containing my purchases. In addition to the undergarments, I had bought an X-rated videotape, a tube of strawberry flavored lipstick, and products called Sex Oil, Harem Incense, and Seduction Candles. Later that day, I picked up an expensive bottle of red wine and two cans of smoked oysters, because I had heard that the combination could increase sexual stamina. I hadn’t been so excited about anything in a long time.

                    After that, planning Rob’s erotic surprise occupied my thoughts day and night. My excitement increased until his birthday finally arrived. I arranged to send the kids to their grandma’s for the night and left work early so that I would have time to get everything together. I wanted to tum our living room into a passion palace. Since we always made love in the bedroom, I thought the change would add to the surprise. I started a fire in the fireplace and set Seduction Candles on every flat surface. The flickering light gave the room a sexy ambiance, and the scent of burning incense added to the mood. I glanced about, enjoying the warm and seductive atmosphere that I had created. I felt stimulated just thinking about the night I had planned. I poured two glasses of wine and set them on the cocktail table next to a plate of smoked oysters.

                    We have a big-screen TV and a videocassette recorder in our living room. I popped the X-rated tape into the VCR and let it run past the credits. The film opened with a man and woman sitting in bed with their clothes on. The woman was telling the man that she was hungry for sex. Suddenly, she began to undress, and he did the same. Within moments, they were kissing and touching each other all over. It aroused me to watch them. I decided it was time to put on the sexy outfit I had bought. Shutting off the VCR, I went into the bedroom and laid my new undergarments on the bed. As I removed my clothes, I had a deliciously naughty feeling. When I was naked, I looked into the mirror at my own breasts and hips. I know my body is far from perfect, but at that moment I felt like the sexiest woman in the world. I was unabashedly setting out to seduce my own husband, and the thought made me feel wonderful. Slowly, I slipped into the red crotchless panties, adjusting the lacy opening so that Rob wouldn’t realize it was there until I showed it to him. Then I put on the bra, garter belt, and hose. My skin glowed white against the lacy fabrics of red and black. I got a pair of black pumps out of my closet and stepped into them. Looking into the mirror again; I appraised myself from top to bottom. My body was firm and tight, and I knew that I looked good in the brief erotic garments. I had worn sexy lingerie on a few occasions in the past, but certainly nothing like this. It made me feel like a different person. I thought about how aroused Rob would get when he walked in the door to find me wearing those seductive things. The idea made me even more excited.

                    I could see my nipples hardening, standing out through the lace-trimmed openings in the bra. I stared at them for a moment, watching them become even more erect under my own gaze. I wished that they were darker so that they would be sure to catch his eye. Then, remembering the strawberry lipstick, · I wondered how my nipples would look if I applied a little of it to them. My breasts were beginning to tingle at the thought. When I touched the rigid pink buds with the tip of the lipstick, I felt a pleasurable sensation fl.ash all the way through my body. At that moment, I heard Rob’s car pulling into the driveway. I took a quick look in the mirror at my rouged nipples and the red lace that framed them and rushed back into the living room to make sure everything was ready. I turned on the VCR just as Rob opened the door.

                    When he entered, he was bewildered by the unfamiliar lighting effects. Wearing a puzzled expression, he glanced around at the candles and at the porno scene playing on the big-screen TV, as if he thought that he might have walked into the wrong house. Then he saw me and noticed my provocative costume. He stared for a moment at my nipples poking through the lacy peek-a-boo openings. His eyes roamed my body appreciatively, lingering over the black garter belt and stockings. “What’s all this?” he asked softly, obviously pleased by what he saw.

                    “Happy birthday,” I said, approaching him slowly with my hips swaying. I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him on the mouth. Then, stepping back, I handed him a glass of wine. “I can’t believe all this,” he murmured. “I can’t believe this outfit you’re wearing. I love it. You’ve never worn anything like this before. What’s going on?” Before answering, I began to unbutton his shirt with deliberate movements. As I did so, I realized that our -lovemaking had become so routine that I couldn’t remember the last time I had undressed him. When his shirt was open, I pulled it off him and began caressing his chest with my hands. I heard him sigh.

                    “It’s your birthday present,” I said. “It’s a gift of sex. Relax and enjoy it. Taste the wine.” He sipped tentatively, rolling the wine on his tongue to savor its subtle flavor, and sighed with pleasure. He sipped again, and as he did so, I began to unbuckle his belt. Rob stood still as I unzipped his pants and slipped them down over his muscular legs until they fell to the floor. I could see his erection straining at the front of his shorts. Swiftly, I stripped them from him, leaving him completely naked. He was throbbing with excitement.

                    “The wine,” I whispered. “Drink some more wine.” As he sipped from his glass, I reached for the sex oil and poured a little of it onto the palm of my hand. Gently, I began stroking his erection, rubbing the scented oil into the smooth skin. I heard him draw in his breath sharply. I didn’t usually play an . aggressive role in our lovemaking and I was truly enjoying it. I liked the feeling of control it gave me to make his sex spring to the touch of my fingers. He moaned. ”If you don’t stop now,” he said, ”it’ll be all over.” “It won’t be over,” I said. “This is just the beginning. Don’t hold back. Come whenever you want to. It’s going to be a night you’ll never forget.”

                    The words had hardly left my lips when his penis began to swell and throb, and I knew that his orgasm was about to begin. “Go ahead, Rob,” I crooned. “Let it happen. Let it flow.” And it flowed. I felt his body tensing and relaxing repeatedly in the paroxysms of sexual climax. As his orgasm ·wound down, I led him toward the couch and eased him into it until we were sitting side by side. After a moment, I reached for the plate of smoked oysters and placed one in his mouth. “Eat it,” I whispered. “It’s for sexual endurance.” When he had swallowed it, I fed him another, and another. As he chewed them, we sipped wine and looked at the erotic acts taking place on the TV screen. Two couples were making love in the same bed, and the camera kept shifting from one to the other. Seeing the filmed close-ups of men’s and women’s sex organs fitting together was increasing my excitement and getting Rob started all over again.

                    I slid to my knees on the floor between his ankles and bent over his lap. His penis lay soft and shriveled in the tangled mat of curling pubic hair. I teased it lightly with the tip of my tongue and then took him into my mouth. When we first were married, I performed oral sex on him regularly, but for the past few years our sex had consisted of little more than penetration and thrusting. Tonight, though, I was giving him a gift. Tonight I would do everything I could think of to show him a good time! At first I was afraid that I would be awkward, but as soon as I got started I felt like a sexual expert. I found myself enjoying the taste and the bulky heft of his manhood in my mouth. Within moments I was performing for my own pleasure as much as for his. Rob gasped, and I felt him beginning to harden again. I looked up at him and was thrilled to see that he was watching me intently. Almost without realizing what I was doing, I started putting on a show, making elaborate movements with my lips and tongue until I could feel him throbbing and pulsing.

                    Slowly, I let him slip from between my lips. His shaft was rigid and gleamed with moisture. Rising from the floor, I faced him and sat on his lap, straddling his thighs. I saw him looking at my painted nipples. “Taste them,” I said. “It’s part of the surprise.” He licked the tips of my breasts, smiling when he noticed the strawberry flavoring. I could feel the head of his manhood nudging at my opening through the fringed slit at the crotch of my sexy panties. Moving my hips slightly, I worked him inside. Then, with a forward thrust of my pelvis, I buried him completely. By now I was so wet that he slipped in easily. It felt wonderful.

                    The two of us rocked back and forth, undulating with rhythmic strokes that caused his length to slide in and out, warming and stretching my internal membranes. I felt him thickening and beginning to throb again. This time, I wanted to make it last. Withdrawing myself from his extended organ, I moved to the floor, falling to my hands and knees. With no trace of subtlety, I waved my backside at him, knowing that my wanton display would arouse him even further. With swaying movements, I silently invited him to enter me from behind.

                    We hadn’t done it that way in years, but I had often fantasized about it, remembering the way he had mounted me “doggy-style” when we were first married. I guess I had been missing it without even knowing that I was. Back then I would sometimes remain poised that way for what seemed like hours as he slid forward slowly into me and rocked back even more slowly. To me, that position symbolized the leisurely lovemaking that we had been neglecting for so long. Somehow the freedom we had once known had been replaced by inhibitions.

                    Rob sat on the couch for a while watching me, obviously becoming even more aroused as he did so. Showing myself to him in that lewd and erotic way inflamed me also. I had not felt this uninhibited in years. What started as a gift for Rob was turning out to be a gift for me as well. Within moments, he was on his knees behind me, bumping my buttocks with his stiffness. Then he was in me, hunching wildly to bury his full length inside. We moved together until we both came to the edge of explosion, and then, as if by mutual agreement, we held still for a while. I lowered my body until I lay fiat on the floor with my breasts and belly pressed against the carpet. He waited a moment and then began a rhythmic thrusting again to carry us closer to climax. Reaching around me to cup my breasts in his hands, he stroked my nipples with his fingers. As he drove into me, I felt my· orgasm approaching. When it struck, I moaned and sobbed in ecstasy. It was the most powerful sensation I had ever experienced. Before my climax ended, his began. Together, we drifted on a sea of sexual bliss.

                    That night we lay together for hours, hugging and kissing as we hadn’t done in years. We stroked and petted each other’s body until we were ready to make love again. Before the night ended, we experimented with every intercourse position that either of us could imagine, sometimes taking inspiration from the performance unfolding on the television screen. We both lost count of our orgasms. We came to a new understanding about our sexuality. Like lots of other couples, we had become too absorbed in our work and in the minor problems of day .. to-day life. As a result, we neglected our sexual needs for so long that we began to forget that we had them. The surprise gift of sex that I gave Rob that night was actually a gift that we gave each other, a gift that we gave our relationship.

                    We resolved not to make the same mistake again. We realized how important it was for us to find time to. make love, and how exciting it was to bring a sense of surprise into our lives. Since then our sex life has improved tremendously. We often make love until the sun comes up. And we take every opportunity to surprise each other with gifts of sex. In fact, that surprise I planned for Rob on his thirty .. fifth birthday turned out to be so important to us that we both agree that it was· the best sex we ever had.

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