It was my green night. I don’t know why, I just like the color. My husband, Terry, was tying his bowtie in the mirror. His white cotton button-down and black slacks fit him well. The vee of his red and black suspenders widened at his broad shoulders and matched the black tie of his tuxedo perfectly.
We did this probably three times per year for the last three years. It had to be the biggest event. It had to be the richest people. We didn’t really run in those circles, but that’s probably how we got away with it.
Of course, I splurge on clothes and shoes, but only once a year. A Lora Piani Nancy wrap dress. Emerald of course, with silver piping. Matching emerald Dolce and Gabbana stilletos. But my most expensive purchase is always my lingerie. Always Italian and always the best. Tonight I wore my Oscalito garter belt. Matching Oscalito emerald and silver bra. Genuine silk stockings that sported a heavy seam up the back.
I always wear my wraps. It’s just easier for what I do. I wore the belt a little higher than normal but made it work. A trip to the beautician this afternoon to set my honey-blond curls in a pretty cascade over my left shoulder. I went a bit heavy on the blood-red lipstick, but I needed a pirate smile tonight.
The finishing touches were my emerald teardrop earrings and a ten-carrot emerald on a layered silver necklace. They were costumed, but a high-end costume. I couldn’t afford the real thing after purchasing the wardrobe. Terry only let me spend so much.
”About ready?” Terry asked as he walked into my bathroom.
”Almost,” I smiled, sitting at my makeup mirror.
”You are absolutely stunning,” said my hubby.
I smiled at his reflection in the mirror. Dabbing at some errant mascara in the corner of my eye, I said, ”Thank you for tonight, Darling.”
”You bet,” he said, ”I’m going to get the car warmed up.”
”I’ll be out in a sec.”
I heard the door close when he left the room. Standing to inspect my appearance in the mirror, I couldn’t help but smile. I was a vision, if I had to say it myself. After putting a silver stole over my shoulders and picking up my clutch, I spun on my heels and headed out with a purpose.
The car was warm compared to the early December weather. A few snowflakes leftover from an earlier storm continued to melt on contact with our windshield. The roadsides were dusted with white drifts and the car sloshed through the watery remains in the road. Not wanting to end up in a snowy ditch, we took the trip slowly, for fear of black ice.
Finally, we arrived at the event. The Grande Hotel on the Summit. A red carpet rolled out to the curb. This was where my night really began. Of course, I was nervous. This was my husband’s world. Rubbing shoulders with business leaders, congressmen, and senators, actors, and entertainers. I’d been to these things before. It’s not like I was a virgin to them.
This is the one night every year that I can play out my fantasy. The valet opened the car door for me. Another opened my husband’s. A white-gloved hand was extended and I took it with a smile. It was time. I placed one foot on the sidewalk, my sequined wrap parted, revealing my long leg. Do you recall my description of my Italian panties? Well, then you were paying attention. I wasn’t wearing them.
The valet naturally dropped his eyes to my crotch. My bald pussy gave him a quick wink from between the lacy, emerald garters. He must have seen the wetness of my fluids painting the insides of my thighs. Turning my ass in the seat of our Maybach, I stepped from the confines of luxury into the cold night air.
The valet held my hand until Terry took it with a knowing smile. He tipped the young man and we made our way through the crowd, shaking hands along the way. Finally, inside, we were escorted to our table. Dinner would be later, for now, we would mingle and greet friends and associates.
This went on for an hour. Finally, someone started ringing a cowbell, of all things. ”Dinner will be served if you will make your way to your tables.”
I had already picked my target for the evening. He had been ogling my tits for the last twenty minutes. My dress was sheer in all the right places. I caught him looking once and gave a shy smile. His eyes perked up. His wife had already decided that I was trouble. Of course, that is how senators’ wives were.
My husband seated me then took his seat. The senator was at the next table, only six feet from me. The dress fell to both sides of my legs, but not to worry, I had my clutch for modesty’s sake. My knees together and tilted to my table, he was in for some teasing. Our waiter arrived immediately after seating and took drink orders.
As he left, I was tapped on my shoulder by Mrs. Abernathy, the wife of some actor. My first opportunity, I swiveled a bit and turned my head, my knees parting just a bit. ”That dress is exquisite,” Mrs. Abernathy said, ”Is it a Lora Piani?”
”Thank you, dear,” I answered, ”Yes it is.”
We chatted as I waited on my sidecar to make it to the table. A few furtive glances in the senator’s direction told me that he was on the hook. I wasn’t ready to give the farm away quite yet though. The drinks arrived.
The waiter stood between myself and the senator, only partially blocking the view. Another opportunity. I moved my left leg a little faster than my right as I turned back to my table. It was a smooth, quick move, intended to garnish attention and present some inner thigh. If the senator didn’t see, the waiter sure did. I was beginning to get hot.
We made eye contact, the senator smiled and tilted his glass. A gesture that I returned with a smile. My husband glanced at me, raised his eyebrow, and took a sip of his Glenlivet XXV. I turned my attention back to the senator.
He was feigning attention to his wife and her monologue, but his eyes cut to my exposed, emerald silk legs. Upping the ante a bit, I slowly slid my outside leg over the inside, crossing them at the knee, my clutch still in my lap, but now I had exposed one of my lacy green garter straps. He didn’t bother trying to hide his lust. My pirate smile was beaming, but in a different direction from the senator. My husband was also getting into my fun. He made a show of pointing out something in my makeup. I took the hint, picked my clutch up from my lap, and set it on the table.
I pulled the skirt of my wrap over my legs but it slowly slid back off. I had my compact out, dabbing my cheek with the pad when I decided to uncross my legs. The senator was attentive, and by now, so was his wife. I needed to play it cool for a minute. Keeping my knees together, I took a sip of my sidecar.
I glanced at him furtively, with a smile. Their food was arriving, so his wife was preoccupied. With the slightest of movement, I sucked my bottom lip into my teeth, biting it playfully. The waiter set his plate in front of him, his back to myself. I dropped the compact back into my clutch and put it on the table. In one smooth, albeit deliberately slow motion, I recrossed my long legs in the other direction. I saw it in his eyes. He was surprised and questioning his vision.
His face betrayed his thoughts. Was she really, not, wearing panties? Is she coming on to me? Did she just flash her pussy?
I smiled and cut my eyes, making contact for a split second too long, letting him know, I wanted him. Swinging my leg slightly, my skirt parted a bit more. He cut his eyes to my crotch, so exposed. I could see the tenting in his trousers clearly.
With a little false modesty, I covered my crotch with my purse, obstructing his fantasy. He turned his attention back to his dinner. The senator’s wife was trying to keep his head at her table, but he was immersed in lust.
It wasn’t that he was particularly good looking. Quite the contrary, he was quite plain. You would think that someone in such high office would be elected at least partially on good looks. But that would have totally disqualified Bernie Sanders. It was his power that attracted me. He was chairman on several oversight committees. Senior advisor to the last two presidents, and many other seats and spokesman for the White House advisory commission.
Right then though, he was putty in my hands. I was hoping to have him in my pussy very shortly. The main course had arrived, smoked salmon with Marky’s Beluga Caviar, thin-sliced toasted French loaves. All the fixings of the fanciest hotel in our region. But a fundraiser as high profile as this afforded a few extra incentives. It was time to give the Senator another incentive.
I uncrossed my legs, my skirt falling completely open, then stretch the far one from him out, the other bent at the knee, which I let fall toward him. My pussy, completely exposed to him. He looked over slowly, so as not to alert his wife. I smiled with my blood-red lips and covered my soaking wet sex with my fingers.
The senator smiled and quickly cut his eyes back to his wife. She was spreading caviar on a slice of toast so he looked back. My smile was naughty and I uncovered all but one finger, tracing lightly my wet slit.
He nervously looked around the room to see if anyone saw. His table was the furthest in his direction, mine only six feet from him and I faced his direction. No chance of anyone besides my husband could possibly see. I spread my labia with two slick fingers. With my other hand, I pushed my middle finger in, knuckle deep. Pulling it out, I sucked it into my mouth, and then covered myself with my skirts. I could see his arousal, pushing up on his pants.
I took my clutch in hand, looked straight into the senator’s eyes, curled my finger at him a few times then walked up the stairs to the restrooms, looking back over my bare shoulder to see him, wiping his mouth with a napkin and excusing himself from the table.
I waited behind a red marble column at the top of the stairs. The balcony overlooked the entire dining room. Looking out across the guests, no one was bothering to look at the senator as he climbed the stairs. I leaned back against the pillar and lit the prohibited cigarette, attached to an ivory stem.
He walked past, without noticing I was there until he smelled the smoke. When he turned and laid his eyes on my body, I could feel them, the footprints they left in the playground of my body. I put the cigarette in my mouth and untied my wrap, shaking it from my shoulders, now standing in just my lingerie, sans panties, and my costume emerald jewelry.
He smiled and walked closer, ”You are beautiful,” he commented then took my cigarette. His eyes glancing at the diners, burying themselves in conversation and gestation.
I turned my head to take in the view, everything was as it should have been, then turned my eyes back to him. ”Senator,” I gave him my best pirate smile, ”Are you going to fuck me?” turning around and bending over, my hands on the crimson column, ”Or are you going to chat?”
He took a long draw on my cigarette then dropped to one knee behind me. My smooth, hairless pussy was at his eye level. He exhaled the smoke onto my ass then dredged his tongue from the front of my wet pussy to the back, pausing to circle my puckered asshole. I moaned my approval.
Another identical motion followed by several again. After the second I had pushed my ass muscle open to offer access, which he accepted, rimming me with every stroke. My moans were more guttural and getting louder.
Another drag on the fuming butt, he stood and opened his fly and without hesitation, pushed his cock inside. I judged him to be average in length and thin. His strokes were quick deliberate, my ass quivering with every slap.
I felt the teeth of his zipper and the corner of his belt buckle as he fucked my pussy. I bit my bottom lip, looking down at the people below. Waiters buzzed around like flies. The roar of multiple conversations all blending. The odd laugh at some good joke.
Suddenly, only minutes into our fuck, I felt a splash on my hip, soaking into my garter belt. Several more and I turned to see the senator, his face screwed into an orgasmic expression. He was stroking his wet cock as cum let from the head.
Disappointed, I rolled my eyes. ”Fuck,” I thought to myself. I hoped there was enough time. But in surprise, I watched the old man kneel again, kissing my pussy then licking his seed from my hip. ”Mmm,” I growled, ”You dirty old fucker.”
He smiled up at me and repeated, ”You are beautiful.”
My eyes cut from his to my husband’s. Sensing something was amiss, the senator jerked his head around. The first thing he saw was my husband, camcorder in hand. Then it was my turn to be alarmed.
The senator’s wife was behind my husband, pistol in hand. ”I’ll have that camera,” she demanded in a whisper.
”Terry,” I choked.
My husband smiled at me, then handed the device to the only one present concerned with the senator’s career. ”You can have the camera, Madame,” Terry smirked, ”But the recording is safe on a computer. I’ll not say where.”
Her expression was livid anger. ”You old son of a bitch,” she scowled at her husband, ”Will you ever learn?”
“I’ll have that pistol,” said Terry.
She let the Lady Smith and Wesson roll over her finger and hang loosely. After securing it and the camera, Terry told the senator to get dressed. He gave them our demand of one million dollars in cash in a briefcase to be delivered by courier to our selected location. In exchange, we would destroy the video.
Before the senator could digest the situation, his wife agreed. I was tieing my wrap when she looked at me and said, ”You whore,”
I smiled, knowing she was right. ”He wouldn’t need me if you were a little more slutty, Bitch.”
She took the senator by the arm and dragged him to the nearest exit, leaving us laughing. Terry, held his arm out for me, which I took, and he walked me to our table, dropping the pistol in a trashcan at the top of the stairs. Dessert was being served. Creme Brulee, so delicate. I smiled at him and he at me.
Days later, the demands met, the briefcase delivered. I watched Terry place the case and the CD containing the video in our vault. There were nine more, unopened and identical bags and CDs neatly lined up on the shelves. We didn’t destroy them. Why not keep some insurance? He looked at me and asked, ”Who’s next.”
”That asshole from California?” I queried, ”Or that religious son of a bitch from Utah that can’t decide what side he is on?”
We laughed as Terry spun the locking handle on the vault door. He looked at me with a sexy smile. One thing about Terry, he was fucking hot. His muscular chest and strong arms were made for pleasuring a woman. And so unlike the senator, his dick was amazing. Long and thick, his cock’s head was like the cap of a mushroom.
I was in my white bathrobe, just having taken a shower. My long hair was still wrapped in a towel. He leaned in and we kissed, our tongues mingling. His hand opening my robe, which I quickly shrugged off and onto the floor. I never miss an opportunity to get his big dick into my pussy.
Pushing my body against the cold steel of the vault door, he took both my asscheeks in his hands, spreading and kneading them. ”I’m going to fuck you like the little whore that you claim to be,” Terry said as he roughly picked me up.
I wrapped both legs around his waist and my arms around his shoulders, sucking his tongue like a dick, into my mouth. He carried me to the dining room table and set my bottom on the edge. We continued tongue fucking each other’s mouths as I yanked his shirt, popping every button off.
”This was a three-hundred-dollar shirt,” he laughed as the buttons bounced around on the floor, clicking and clattering.
”What are you going to do about it?” I snarled, daring him to respond.
He put a hand on my throat and pushed back roughly. I caught myself with my palms on the tabletop. Taking my left nipple, suddenly into his teeth, he bit down. Pain splintered through my wanting body, but he bit harder. ”Ohh, fuck, ” I shouted through the pain, ”It hurts.”
His passion drove him to bite even harder. I thought for a second that he would take it completely off. He pinched at my other swollen nipple with his fingers as I moaned my approval. His cock hard, tenting the material of his trousers, grated against the wetness of my pussy. One hand still on my throat, he suddenly pulled me to my feet.
”Turn around, bitch,” he commanded, pulling the belt from his pants. I heard the pop of each belt loop and she swish of the leather as it came free. His torn shirt hung open, still partially tucked in. My eyes taking in his rippled, muscular chest, and abdomen. ”I said turn around.”
I complied as he looped his black leather strap in one hand. I knew what was coming. I knew the pain and welcomed it. Terry could be merciless when I wanted him to. I put my hands on the table, leaning forward, feet spread. ”I’m going to take three hundred dollars out of your pretty ass.”
I looked over my shoulder, daring him with my eyes. He pushed my head back around with his palm. I felt the cold leather slide over my ass then pull away. The first crack of leather against soft flesh echoed through the dining room and hallway. My knees buckled, but I didn’t cry out. I could feel the welt, redden my ass as it rose from my lily-white skin.
He was painstakingly slow in his torture, ten whole seconds passed before another blow was delivered. Another ten seconds and another crack of leather. My skin burned and swelled. A tear slowly traced down my cheek, but I did not cry out.
Another smack then another. Ten in all. The sting left by the belt, burned. My ass was so sore. ”That ought to about cover it,” Terry snarled in my ear.
I heard him as he unzipped his pants and pulled his cock through the fly. My pussy was ready, drooling in anticipation of being stretched by my man. He stepped between my feet, cock in hand, squeezing a red asscheek with his other. The pain shot through me making me squirm. Terry swatted my ass with his palm for my movement.
I leaned further forward, my arms crossed on the table and under my chin. Terry kicked my feet further apart then rubbed his cockhead up and down my wet slit. ”Fuck me, Terry,” I begged. He continued teasing my slit, wetting his cock with my juices. If nothing else, he was meticulously slow. My anticipation grew.
I wiggled my ass slowly, letting him know I wanted him in my pussy. He, however, had other plans.”Are you ready?”
”Yes,” I whispered passionately.
Quickly, without warning, he pressed the head of his great cock against my anal opening, thrusting hard, burying himself deep. My breath caught as shards of pain coursed through my body. ”Oh, Terry,” I moaned, ”Fuck, yes. Fuck my ass.”
Hooking my hips with his fingers, he pushed in until his balls rested against my pussy. I was stretched around his thick shaft. Slowly, ever so slowly, he withdrew until only the head remained inside. One of his hands slid, snaking up my chest, cupping my breast gently.
He thrust forward again burying his shaft in my ass. I drew a sharp breath and felt the gentle caress of his palm over my tit. Two very different sensations. One brutal, the other almost apologetic. His strong hand still gripping my right hip, assuring me, he was in control.
My back arched as he plunged in again, his hand gently comforting my breast then sliding up to my face, brushing my jawline. His thrusts becoming more distant and frequent. My body trembled at the power he generated in each thrust. Always on the precipice of orgasm, even when he was in my asshole.
The grate of his open zipper on my freshly spanked and swollen ass sparked the shards of pain that I loved so much. He slammed into me again, making the table slide on the floor a little. His soft hand always comforted my heart. Then suddenly he pulled out. Taking my long honey-colored hair in his grip, pulling me to my feet. Tears stained my cheeks, but he knew I wanted this. Forcing me to my knees, he pushed his cock into my mouth, ”Suck it, whore,” he commanded.
I took him into my mouth, tasting myself, greedily sucking him. My head bobbed up and down, occasionally taking his full eight inches of thick meat into my throat. I loved his cock, so hard and so thick. His balls swung heavily against my chin as he face-fucked me. Juices from the previous assfuck mingled with my spit and I swallowed them. I didn’t care. I was just trying to get off.
Terry watched his dick disappear into my red lips then reappear again and again. Smiling as I ate him. Depriving me of his cock again, he pulled me to my feet. His smile changed then. His whole expression was different. The spanking. The rough ass fucking, and choking, that was all for me. He knew I loved it.
The next part was for him. He scooped me into his arms, carrying me down the long oaken hall to our bedroom. Gently, he laid my body down on our overstuffed bed. He started kissing me, gently. Starting at my toes, one by one, then my feet and ankles. The kisses tickled my inner thighs, but I grit my teeth and waited for the next ones. He spent much time there, so much time. His tongue. His sweet lips. The five o’clock shadow. The hum of his warm breath over my clitoris. All those things gently bringing me to the edge, threatening to toss me over into the abyss.
My body spun as if in deep dark space. Lights flashed as I gripped the comforter. His name escaped my lips over and over. I floated over the scene, looking down, observing. My face was captured in pleasure. My lips formed an oh. My legs crossed behind his head, his tongue buried in my pussy. His hands reaching up, gently caressing my soft breasts.
Suddenly, I was sucked violently back into my body as my orgasm slammed me back onto the bed, which seemed to bounce. My voice cried out for more. My nerves tingled. My muscles spasmed. I shook like I was cold but every sensation was so hot.
Terry put his hands behind my thighs, pushing them up to my chest, burying his tongue deeper into my love canal. My juices flowed like a faucet, my orgasm binding my body in the sweetest pleasure.
I felt Terry’s cock then, stretching my walls. Driving so deep into my already spasming pussy. He knew I would continue in orgasm as he fucked me. And that is what he did. He fucked me. His dick deep in my body, pushing deeper with every thrust.
I heard the squeak of the metal bed frame as it strained against the teak headboard.
He wouldn’t last long. I didn’t need him to. My body was wracked from an orgasm that had continued for the last five minutes. I was simply exhausting every ounce of my sexual energy. His dick slid in and out, over and again. Stretching my pussy to conform to the massive girth of his cock, his balls slapped my sore ass with every plunge.
I dug into his shoulders with my red fingernails, leaving marks on his skin. His face twisted and it happened. One last deep stroke. Buried to the hilt, he filled my womb with his seed. He came so much. I felt so wet in there. His body tense and his muscles flexed.
Finally, his orgasm faded with mine. He rolled off, laying beside me. ”That was amazing,” he panted.
”Terry,” I whispered, ”You are amazing.”
