[MFM] My boss liked to watch me at 19 with his wife (45)

True story.

I worked at a restaurant in college. My boss (male) was mid 40s, balding and 50 lbs overweight. He had a great personality and all the staff liked him. I was 19. Thin yet well built with a cocky personality (this has mellowed with time).

I often closed down the restaurant with him at night and we were the last ones out. After he would finish counting cash and checking everything, he would chat with me. Over time, he kept turning the conversation to his wife, asking me things like: “Have you seen my wife? She’s really hot – You would like her…And she would love you.” And so she was… She would stop in the restaurant. She was 45, tall blonde w/ long hair that really took care of herself. Great smile. He shared that when they were dating in college, they had been to a sex party at a frat house where she had sex with several guys. Anyway – She was much better looking than him.

The party

the celebration is in full swing by the time I arrive, laughing and happy chatter surround me as I take a steadying breathe and step out of my car. I’m so nervous, I’m a terrible actress, and this day will be long. music is floating from the sound system’s large speakers, and the drinks are plentiful. A cluster of tables are nestled under a large oak tree, tiny lights draped from its branches. A voice calls my name, and I hone in on a waving figure at one of the tables. That would be the birthday girl. I wave to her and walk over. After a few minutes of chatting I excuse myself to go to the makeshift bar in one of the outbuildings. I can’t believe how many people are here, family, friends, people I’ve never met, some I have. An older man stands behind the wet bar and asks me what I want …. after requesting a double of whiskey, I gaze around at the lights, the littering of antique signs, and the smiling faces. As I accept my drink, I here a voice that sends a shiver down to my pussy, sending it into an instant throb. My instincts want me to whirl around and throw my arms around your neck, but through sheer will I turn slowly, forcing a bored expression onto my face and busy myself by taking a sip. I meet your gaze over the rim of my tumbler and realize you saw me before I saw you. your moss and gold eyes don’t waver as you hold me captive from 10 feet away, those tingles increasing 10 fold. I smile, offer a casual greeting to you, and make my way back to the picnic tables. I try and force my attention to the conversation flowing around me, but every ounce of my being is focused on you. Standing outside the metal building, hands in your pockets, laughing at something an older man is saying. I pretend to scan the gathering, and find myself watching you. You must feel my eyes on you, because inevitably every time I find you in the crowd you look up, piercing me with a stare that melts panties. Unsettled, I throw myself back into the conversation, desperately trying to distract myself from your presence. At dinner, you decide to torture me by sitting beside me, albeit with your body turned away to face the person to your right, and your scent alone almost sends me into subspace. I inch away, trying to avoid physical touch, when you smoothly turn back to face your plate and brush the entire left side of your body against mine. Forearm pressing directly into my breast. I swallow a moan, and quickly excuse myself from the table, avoiding you. Excruciatingly slowly, the evening fades to night and the drinking increases, and i note you’ve been nursing a glass too. It looks like you are avoiding me as well now, although the looks you give me when no one is looking make me clench. I am careful though, only to taking small sips and pacing myself. I can’t afford to lose control and expose us. “I’m going to lose my mind” , I think to myself, and decide impulsively to down the shot whiskey I’ve been carrying around as a prop. I want you. this is impossible, and I am going to combust or go mad. I march up into the abandoned bar, closing the door behind me. the bottles have long since been deployed amongst the crowd, and find a near empty bottle of bourbon, pour my own shot , down it, then shrug at the remaining contents of the bottle and drink that too. I stand there. Staring at the counter in a daze. Uncertain how to proceed. Dammit. . I could have left if I hadn’t just drank that. Now I have to wait. I lean my head back, and let out a frustrated groan. I turn forwards the door and bump into your chest, I didn’t hear you come in. I jump backwards, but your hands are already around my upper arms, and pulling me back into, forcing me against your chest. “ kitty” you whisper, and one hand shifts into my hair, caressing. I let out a tiny sob, and nuzzle closer, just for a minute. I relax further against you, and speak into your chest, my voice muffled in your shirt, “ this is so hard “. You pull on my hair, tilting my neck back so my face is angled up at yours . Then your hands cup my face and lean down, “ Ive missed you baby “ you say, and I smell the whiskey on your breathe and note your wild eyes right before your lips meet mine. My brain screams abort but my body recognizes the one who owns her and immediately becomes pliable and needy. I moan, letting you taste my mouth and you groan in response , one hand wrapping around my back, the other drifting down to clutch at my breast. The sound you make sends a torrent of liquid to the juncture of my thighs and I instinctively press my pelvis against yours. You press back into me, using both hands to hold my hips to yours and i can feel your hard length through our clothes. I whimper, a small pleading sound, and realize my arms are around your neck. You are devouring my mouth at this point, and your hands reach down to slide up my skirt, moving my panties to the side to feel me. I know you have drank more than I thought, and it will be up to me to stop this, but the touch of your strong fingers against the tender folds of my pussy make me quiver. You spin me around, push me over to sprawl across the bar, and kneel behind me, your face in my folds as you lick my ass and pussy like it’s your last meal. Frantic with want but terrified I try and push against your face , you hold me tight. When I start spasming you stand up, yank down your pants and stuff me full with your big length. We both moan under our breath and you thrust in earnest , me arching into you in time . a moment later I’m fluttering and gasping as I come on your cock. My legs are shaking when you pull me back into you. your hand grips mine on the counter , fingers intertwined with mine , and with a low growl you empty your balls inside me. Your nose is in my hair whispering how good I feel, as we both breathe and soak in the physical touch. . Voices approach and you quickly yank my skirt down, zip up your pants and swipe the empty bourbon off the counter . You turn around with an easy grin on your face, and meet the newcomers. “ We were just looking for more whiskey” . Holding up the empty bottle you shake it and say “ looks like we drank it all “ . The men laugh and as a group we head back onto the lawn . You follow the men towards a game of beer pong, but look over your shoulder first and mouth “ good girl “ .

Weekend [Femdom] [Facesitting] [Biting] [Bondage]

It had been hours. The pleasure was so explosive, the teasing so ruthless, he was driven to a moaning mess. She loved how her pet was one who moaned. Most men either didn’t or their moans were blind exasperations of how good *they* felt physically.

But no, her pet moaned from a deep devotion, a deep excitement. They were sweet sounds, music to her ears. This man would always drive her mad with lust.

Ellie was trembling, leaned against the wall, having just ripped herself away from his mouth. She didn’t want to come. Not yet. She had grinded herself into him, working his tongue to its absolute limits for almost an hour. Then, she got up and steadied herself. Eyeing him as the vibrator buzzed away at his eager cock.

“Mistress…” he moaned, breathing so heavily. It seemed to be all he could say, his face soaked in her love. “Mistress…”

Across the Courtyard – Part 7 [MFF|Threesome]

[Link to Part 6](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ihby8e/across_the_courtyard_part_6_mf/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3)

*Note: Sorry for the delay, got sick with some cold, I don’t think it was Covid but enjoy! Planning on starting a new series in time for Halloween next!*

____________

I was still trying to find the words for what had happened earlier in the day. After Chelsea had left I just sat on the couch, peering out the window every once in a while to look over at her apartment. Was she watching me? Would she just barge back in at any moment and have her way with me. Jesus, I grew hard at the very thought of it, I wanted more of her, I needed more of her. I reached down to play with my cock at the very idea of getting to see Chelsea again and I thought about her parting words. She wanted me to put on a good show for her? I just kept gently playing with my cock until a plan popped in my head, what if I could get Alice over here and show Chelsea what I was capable of..

[FM] The Guy I’m Seeing Let Me Fuck His Friend

**title typo – I pressed post too early. It should read “The guy I was seeing let me fuck his friend”**

If you’ve read any of my older stories, then you’ll remember Devaughan, the 39 year old who creampied my 26 year old pussy.

Things with Devaughan were … interesting. I had never hooked up with someone that much older than me, nor had I let anyone cum inside me like that before. Devaughan brought out this incredibly sexual side of me, possibly because I knew I didnt want to be with him long term. Over the couple months we dated, we would hang out at his place and fuck, and then I’d go home and keep searching for the “right guy” on dating apps.

Anyways, this story is about the time that Devaughan “allowed” me to hook up with his friend Troy. I’ve never told anyone about this for now, because I honestly dont know how I feel about this one.

Escape from Subspace #1 [MF, Feminisation, Fiction, Femdom]

“Oh baby I’m gonna cum, oh fuck yeah, oh. Oh. Fuck. Yeah. Come. On. Fuck. Oh. Yes. Oooh… whew.”

You collapsed on top of your wife, your stomach pressing into her back, pinning her to the bed. Her arms folded under her chin, her head cocked to the side staring out the window. Your cock rapidly deflating inside her as a pitiful amount of cum leaked from her pussy. 

“Oh yeah baby. You enjoy that babe?” You asked her. 

“Babe?”

“Huh? Sorry. Yeah. Yeah I loved it honey”, she was daydreaming. She barely heard what you said. let alone enjoyed what you’d done.

“Good, you cum too?”, you smiled. 

“Yeah, so hard. Mmmm”. She fakes a smile back, you couldn’t tell though, because you are head over heals in love with her. 

All your friends said you were punching above you weight. Big time. You weren’t unattractive, but you weren’t the typical chiselled man that she’d dated before. You’d tried to compensate for this recently by growing a beard, drinking protein shakes and working out, all in the hope that you’d develop washboard abs and manly looks, but it wasn’t working.

Evie’s Date (MF, D/s, mdom, fsub – 2,621 words)

**EVIE’S DATE**

By All These Roadworks (2020).

Evie had never had much luck in romance. She met nice guys, she dated them, she got as far as sex – and then the problems would begin. She never seemed to get very aroused. The men would think she wasn’t interested – and the truth was, she kind of wasn’t. She wasn’t asexual – she wanted sex – but her pussy just never seemed to get very wet when the time came. The men would politely back off, and the relationship would end. They clearly thought she was frigid, and Evie began to think that they were right.

Eventually, Evie’s friend Shauna, frustrated, set Evie up on a date with a man named Julius.

“Shauna, I don’t need another date with some guy,” Evie complained.

“Give this a go,” urged Shauna. “Julius is… different. If it doesn’t work, I’ll stop hassling you.”

And so Evie found herself dressed up, nervous, waiting on a stool at a cocktail bar for Shauna’s mysterious friend. She had come early, and now regretted it, as she was filled with pre-date nerves.

Reward for swift return [MMMF in sequence, bondage, cheat, consensual, s+m, airline uniforms, stockings+heels] (first post)

**Reward for Swift Return**

Perhaps you know Barajas, the main airport in Madrid. Today we
have James in the captain’s chair and Idris as the first
officer. Though not necessary on a short flight, the captain had
brought along a third man in the flight crew, Stephen, who was
here for the training. It was always nice to have three on deck
as it kept the conversation flowing and the passengers always
liked the sense of security.

Like all airports everything is less sophisicated behind the
scenes there are a lot of corridors of fluroescent lighting and
slow moving lifts. But sometimes its layout gives a certain
charm. For example, today, when James, Idris and Stephen were on
their way to the gate from the crew lounge, when they found they
were walking behind the perfect crisp bright blue of a KLM
stewardess. It always brightens a man’s spirits: the clicking of
the perfectly shiny heels, a little higher than most of the
women wear, and somehow just sexier in shape, and the noise of
her pullalong luggage over the tiles. The swing of her arms and
the bob to her step. Three white strips and an orange one: a
senior purser. Cut of her jacket just nipped in on the slope of
her lower back. And gloves, how many women wear gloves any more?

The time I took a first date to a swing club [MF]

Stephanie and I matched on a dating site. She had a very bare profile with a slightly blurring picture. Women with profiles like this usually have something to hide from their “real life” and may be looking for an adventure that’s out of the ordinary.

We exchanged a few messages and decided to meet for a drink that night. I chose a bar near me, expecting that if she bails, I’d at least be able to enjoy a cocktail that I like.

An hour before our date, she texted saying she is going to be late. In my mind, I thought she was going to cancel. So I took my time getting to the bar. But to my surprise, she said she was there before I arrived. Normally I like to be there first, so I can find a good intimate spot for us where we can feel private (in case I start getting handsy).

She was sitting at the bar with a drink in hand. At this point, I don’t really know what she looks like. I actually walked past her before realizing she was my date. She was wearing a fitting black shirt and black jeans that hugged her slim figure. She was stunning. Stephanie was about 5’5” with dirty blonde hair and hazel eyes. She was slim probably around 110lbs. She looked sexy and classy.

Sharing with my Wife [threesome, oral, swingers]

Andrea smiles at me over the young woman who sits between us, her puffy lips parted in a smirk as she winks at me. “How about another drink, Becca?” she says, rubbing the girl’s slender back in soft circles.

The girl, probably twenty two, keeps glancing up at me with soft brown eyes—like a helpless puppy hoping for a treat. “Okay, sure,” she says.

“If Becca wants one, I’ll have another,” I say, and she smiles up at me bashfully.

My wife, Andrea, flags the bartender once more. Ever flirtatious, she runs a finger down the man’s arm as she places the order. “Three more mojitos, and close out the tab,” she says.

I watch, smiling to myself as the man visibly reddens, scurrying off to take the order at breakneck speed. There’s a way to ensure proper service.

The bartender soon returns with our order: three silvery mojitos, dripping icy condensation onto the counter. My wife signs the check as I pick up my drink for a sip.

“Wait!” she says, shooing the bill away as she raises her glass. “Let’s make a toast, for the final drink of the night.”