"She did well," Thomas said as he held the chair out. Maria fairly glowed at his praise as she sat, blushing as she avoided her husband's eyes. Ron had drinks ready for them as they rejoined him at the table. "Not perfect, but for a first time, she did very well." He sat and lifted his glass to Marie. "Here's to you dear," he said, clinking her offered glass, then turned to Ron. "And to you; thank you, Ron," he commented. "You should be very proud of her." Subconsciously Maria gathered her sweater to herself at her neck, then touched the scarf on her head. She glanced up under lidded eyes, and immediately relaxed to see her husband smiling broadly. A wave of relief and grateful warmth flooded as she saw his reaction and she returned his smile.
"No, thank you, Thomas," Ron replied, then turned back to his wife. "And congratulations, Marie. Always knew you had it in you."
She blushed again, feeling as timid as she had before, but with a sense of completeness and relief that it was over. A sense of accomplishment, too, if she were honest with herself, and a tingle of pride ran up her spine. Yes, she told herself, I did it. And I did it pretty well. She sipped her drink. And, she admitted as she sipped, it was fun!
"So," Ron said, putting his glass down and leaning across the table. "Spill it," he whispered hoarsely. "Tell me what happened!" The eagerness in his voice fairly exploded, and Marie felt her elation burst to the surface and shatter her timidity.
"Oh, Ron, it was amazing," she bubbled, "so exciting; so, I don't know. Dangerous? No, that's not right. Thomas was there, so I felt very safe; he took good care of me." She thought a second. "But so naughty! So wild, and dirty and exciting!" She turned to Thomas. "Thank you for that; for taking care of me, and making sure it went well. I'm so grateful!"
Thomas grinned. "You already expressed your gratitude, Marie," he quipped, but tilted his glass to her. She looked at Ron and blushed again.
"Oh, that's cute, you're embarrassed!" Ron grinned, but not in a mocking way. More jovial and admiring, she thought, and her chest swelled with pride. "So, come on, tell it!"
"Well, Thomas brought me up to the room. Ron, I was so nervous, I was practically shaking," she whispered. "Before we went in he made sure I was okay, assuring me that there was no danger, and that if I wanted, I could back out." Her eyes darted around the room. "A part of me did. I didn't want to, but I was afraid I couldn't go through with it, or that I wouldn't, you know, be good enough."
"You're always too critical of yourself," Ron interjected.
"Here, here," Thomas confirmed, tipping his glass to Ron this time.
"You know what I mean," she apologized, "I wanted it, WE wanted it so badly, I didn't want to screw it up."
"And you certainly did not," Thomas smiled broadly.
Her eyelids fluttered appreciatively and she turned back to her husband. "So anyway, he spoke to me, and calmed me down, and I finally said, yes, I'm ready, and he took my sweater and opened the door." Her eyes lit with excitement. "It's funny, you know, because I knew what to expect, and yet, when they were right there, in front of me, it was still a surprise, almost a shock." Her head angled. "Because it was real, then, I guess. But there they were. All three of them." She bit her bottom lip. "Oh, Thomas, it was suddenly real, no stories anymore, no 'I'm gonna' or 'what it will be like'. It was real, it was happening, and I swear, my legs went weak. Her nostrils flared as she blew out a breath, her face heated. "My pussy just gushed at the excitement, and I couldn't talk." She smiled sheepishly. "But we weren't there for conversation," she jibed.
"What did they look like?"
"Oh, he got good ones, Ron. All tall; well, taller than me, for sure, and sexy, too, if not classically handsome. Two of them were sitting, but the black one stood, and they all looked at me, and their faces, Ron; oh, they were just oozing sex and desire!"
"For you," he told his wife eagerly.
"Yes, for me; gods, it was incredible. They wanted me, wanted what I was there to do, and they didn't hide it; it showed in their faces, in the looks they gave me. And I felt them, felt their desire." She leered. "Of course they were all naked, and their cocks were fabulous, partly hard already. Oh, God, I was hot, and I went weak in the knees."
"Very convenient, that part, eh, Marie?"
She blushed again at Thomas' good-natured ribbing, and she swatted his arm. "Don't make fun," she admonished without anger.
"I'm not; it was perfect. You dropped right to your knees," he said, his hand reassuring on her forearm. He turned to Ron. "You should have seen her, walking in, all wide-eyed and astounded, staring at three men with cocks all for her," he chortled, "and she just drops to her knees. It was perfect."
She saw her husband's eyes go wide. "I couldn't hold myself up, I swear. I just fell down." She looked at him. "And it started, just like that. One of the sitting men got up, put his drink down, and walked to me, right into my face. He just stood there, expectantly, just, I don't know, presenting himself. His cock was so close; I could smell him, feel the heat from him, and I was so hot, so horny, on my knees before him like that. Oh, Ron, it was just like my fantasies!"
She bit her lip again, and her eyes closed a little. "My hands went right between my legs, right up my dress, right there in front of him, Ron, and my mouth opened as I rubbed my pussy, and I took his cock in my mouth." Her words were lower, heated, as memory flooded her, returning the sensation. "I sucked his cock; I felt it harden in my mouth, and I put one hand on the shaft, and pushed fingers into my pussy, and I sucked his cock, right there in the room, with Thomas and the other men watching me." Her words gained heat and intensity without volume, and she watched her husband's face show its appreciation. "Oh, it was so good, feeling his hot cock in my mouth, enjoying him filling my mouth, knowing they watched, they SAW me, just like I imagined it." She knew he would be excited, that he had probably been aroused the whole time, and that telling him was probably making him hard as steel. She flushed at the knowledge. It was exciting her, too.
"I'm getting excited again, telling you," she confessed.
"I'm about to turn the table over with my cock," he leered. "Don't you dare stop!"
She had a flash of imagination, Ron's cock exploding from his pants, huge and throbbing, flipping the table over, and her sucking him off, right here in the hotel restaurant, in front of the patrons. Her pussy twitched and pulsed, and she resumed her tale.
"Well, there I was, fingering myself, sucking this man's wonderful cock in full view of Thomas and the other men; it was good, so good, so hard and hot, and I loved it, loved feeling him in my mouth. And then he put his hand on my head, and started pushing, and I thought, oh, shit, here it comes," she rambled, "he's going to fuck my face." She sucked a breath through gritted teeth. "I nearly came at the thought, the anticipation, to have my mouth used, to be watched as I took his face fucking," she hissed, "but when he started, holy shit, it was even better than I could have imagined!" She took a deep breath. "He started slow, pushing into my mouth as I moved my head, and then deeper, bumping the head of his cock against the back of my mouth. I gagged a little, and it was so hot, so dirty. I wanted him, Ron, I wanted him like we always talked, I wanted him to use my mouth, to take me, force himself into my throat, make me choke and gag and spit on his cock," she whispered hotly. "And he pushed harder, then, and I felt his cockhead push past the back of my mouth, forcing my throat open, and he held me, and held it there as I coughed and drooled, and then he pushed all the way in. Fuck," she exhaled, "it was so good, such a relief to have it finally done, to have a big hard cock forced into my throat; I could barely breathe, and I was scared, and elated, and oh, so fucking horny. I shoved my fingers inside me as he shoved himself in my mouth, and then he pulled out and I coughed spit out all over his cock, and I came! God, I came so hard, and then he was back inside, cramming his cock in my mouth, forcing himself into me, pounding my face against his stomach. I felt his balls on my chin, splashing the drool. I knew it was soaking my shirt, and I didn't care, I wanted it, wanted to be used, wanted my mouth to be a cunt for him," she confessed, as she had so many times in the past.
"He fucked my mouth so good, Ron, everything we ever dreamed and more, God, it was wonderful. I heard the other men saying things, dirty things, but I didn't hear them clearly from the noises coming from my throat. But their voices and tone made me hotter, and I dug at my clit as he fucked my face, and I felt it then, his cock swelling, that extra hardness that comes right before, you know," she related, "only this time in my throat, not my mouth, he was going to cum as he fucked my face, and I rubbed my clit, and my orgasm hit me as he pulled back a little, and he filled my mouth with his hot cum!" She took a shuddering breath.
"It was so good, so hot, and he filled my mouth with his load before he pulled back a little and shot the rest of it on my face, just like we always hoped and dreamed!" She shuddered a little, reliving the memory, so fresh. "There was so much, so much cum, and all for me, all because of me, and I came, hard, with my mouth and face coated in his hot cum."
"What a slut you are," Ron admired.
"Now, I am," she confirmed proudly. "But we were just getting started, and I had two more hard cocks to fuck my face. The first guy pulled out, and then the black guy was there, and without a break he shoved his meat all the way into my mouth. I didn't even have time to swallow."
"He fucked your mouth while it was still full of cum?" Ron asked, wide-eyed.
"Oh, fuck, yeah, he just took me, took over where the first guy left off. Shoved his cock right down my throat, sliding through the first guy's cum. He pushed into my mouth, and cum spilled down my chin and down my throat as I swallowed him." She blew out a breath. "Oh, you should have seen his cock, Ron, so big and black and fat in my mouth. He really stretched my jaw," she said, moving her chin back and forth for effect. "I saw my fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, so white on his dark shaft, and it was so hot, so fucking sexy." She grinned sheepishly. "I saw my ring, my wedding band, and I thought of you, down here, waiting for me, and I wanted to make you proud, and fulfill our fantasy." She reached across the table and took his hand. "I love you," she said, "even more for this,"
"Me, too, baby," he returned, and for a moment it was just the two of them, Thomas forgotten despite his role as facilitator of their fantasy fulfillment. He gripped her fingers tightly. "But please, don't stop the story now!"
They laughed together as only a couple in love will do when one confesses a desire they both hold. "Well, you should have seen his cock, Ron; it was so big, so fat. Thomas really found the perfect black man for us, he was hard and black and he pushed it into my throat so good. He filled me and choked me, and gagged me, and I was delirious with it," she continued. "He had both hands on my head, forcing himself deep into my throat, forcing it in. Where the first one was slow, he was hard and fast." She panted a little. "He fucked my face like a cunt, I swear; oh, my God, Ron, he gave it to me good. My fingers were back in my pussy, and he hammered my face. I came twice while he fucked me, and then, when I felt him get close, he pulled back and I held his big balls. I felt them pulse in my hand, and he pulled out of my mouth. I just knelt there with my mouth open, just the way we pictured it, my tongue hanging out, and he exploded on my face!" She felt herself breathing hard with the description, and struggled to control the volume in her voice. "He shot his cum all over my face, baby, all over my slutty, cocksucking face; it was hot, and there was so much, so much cum, shooting on my cheeks and my nose, and into my mouth." She swallowed, her mouth parched from the telling and breathing. She took a sip of her drink.
"When he finished, the third guy got out of his chair. He'd been sitting there, waiting for his part. And he did it, just like we wanted. The other guys sat down and watched, and he came to me, got me off my knees. I knew what he wanted; knew he knew what I wanted, and I knew he wanted it, too. I could see it on his face. He was perfect." She took another sip.
"He led me to the couch, laid me on my back with my legs up the back of the couch, and hung my head off the edge, you know? Like the videos we saw? And he stood over me, so tall, and big and powerful. So controlling. He had just the right attitude." She turned to the other man. "Really, Thomas, it was perfect. You did such a good job picking him."
"Glad I could help," he acknowledged, tilting his glass. She returned the salute, and turned back to her husband.
"He stood over me, straddling my head, and he lowered his ball sack into my mouth, made me suck his balls." She leaned in, closer, lowering her voice. "He made me take both his balls in my mouth at once; they were shaved smooth, and they were big, and full, and they felt so good, rolling against each other in my mouth. I could have sucked his balls all night, I swear," she confessed, feeling a rush of heat in her face.
"But he pulled them out, and with my mouth still open, he pushed his cock into my mouth. My head hung down, and my mouth was open, and my legs were in the air, my skirt fell away and everyone saw my fingers in my pussy as he angled his cock to my face, and pushed it in. The first two guys came closer, and Thomas was never far, and they watched and commented as his cock slipped into my mouth and directly down my throat. My face was covered in cum, and my saliva drooled down my face. I felt someone stroking my neck, feeling the bulge as his cock filled me. He pressed his balls on my nose until I couldn't breathe."
She inhaled deeply, as if reliving her shortness of breath from earlier. "He pulled back, and he just pile-drived my face then. Upside down, my spit was running down my face, into my nose, my eyes, thick and wet and sloppy, making a mess of me. I wanted him to never stop. And oh, he didn't stop; he went on and on, fucking my face like a cunt, pushing straight down my throat, fucking it like one hole as I gagged and coughed and swallowed his thick shaft. I felt like I was losing consciousness a few times, my vision clouded, and I couldn't breathe, and he kept me on the edge like that, delirious with desire and lust for his wonderful face fucking cock."
"When he finally came, he pulled out, too, just like I wanted, and shot my third load on my face, with my mouth hanging open, mixing with the cum and spit covering my face. It was in my eyes and nose, and hair, and running in my ears; I was a used, cum-covered face fucked mess. Thomas rolled me off the couch as the guys dressed and exited. When I sat up, I was dizzy and short of breath, and I could taste and smell and feel cum. My throat was raw and my jaw ached. And my pussy, despite all the fingering I'd done, well, it was on fire."
Ron, thinking the story over, turned to Thomas. "Seriously, Thomas, we can't thank you enough for making this happen for us," he poured.
"No additional thanks needed, Ron," Thomas grinned, "glad to be of service, and Marie has already expressed her gratitude."
Marie saw her husband's eyes return to her own, saw the question there. "I wanted it so bad," she explained, "I was so happy, so grateful, and so fucking out of control hot..." she trailed off, and lowered her eyes a second, then stared directly into his. "After they left, and it was just us, God, I needed it so bad, WANTED it so bad, and I was so happy it had gone well-" once again, the biting of her lip, the hesitance, the memory. "When the door closed and Thomas turned back to me I was already on my knees, my skirt pulled up-"
"She offered her pussy to me, Ron."
"I did. And he took it, oh fuck, he took it hard, and fast and full. His cock was inside me in a single stroke, filling my dripping hole. I was on the couch, my tits hanging, cum and drool dripping off my face and tits, slinging all over. I came almost instantly, so hard, so fast I screamed; I swear I almost cried; it felt so good. He did me hard and fast, and called me names and slapped my ass. I had just finished cumming when he pushed his thumb in my ass, and I came again as he shot his cum up my cunt. It was only a few minutes, but WHAT a few minutes..." She stopped, looking at her husband; his mouth was open, his face tight. "Oh, God, Ronnie, did you just...?"
Ron exhaled deeply, and refocused his eyes before grinning. "Fuck," he whispered. "I couldn't stop it. That was hot!"
She felt her eyes widen as her mouth dropped open. "Oh, Ron! From the story?" She broke into a sudden smile, and felt the squishy heat between her legs. "Well," she smiled, "you better have another one in you for me when we get home!"
"If you tell that story again, I will!"
"Okay, lovebirds," Thomas interrupted, "it feels like our evening is coming to a conclusion." He pulled his chair away and stood, but bent to the table to speak in a low voice. "I suggest you get yourselves home and fuck yourselves silly." He stood. "It's been a pleasure working with you both. It's not often, in my line, that I meet people that actually enjoy each other's fantasies."
"Oh, Thomas, thank you," Marie emoted. "You've given us a wonderful gift."
"And I have received one in return; the chance to see two people in love, sharing a fantasy, and enjoying living it out, seeing it real, and both enjoying it." He smiled. "It makes it all worthwhile." He tipped his head. "If you ever feel the need to express yourselves again, please feel free to call." And he stepped from the table and exited the restaurant.
Ron cleared the check, and they made their way to the car, holding hands like lovers. "So tell me," he asked as they approached, "what's with the scarf?"
She sat in the passenger seat as he held the door. "Oh, I nearly forgot." Her hand reached up to her head, touching the fabric. "I wiped my face, and I had the sweater, you know, to cover my shirt," she told him, looking up at him. "But my hair was a wreck when we finished; wild and messy, and streaked with cum and drool." She slipped a finger under the fabric. "It's still wet."
"Take it off for the ride home," he suggested, "the sweater, too." And she smiled and whipped it from her head, shaking her damp and unruly mess, then unbuttoning and pulling her arms from the sleeves of her sweater, discarding it. She sat back in the seat, proudly displaying the damp streaks on her shirt, her tangled and clotted hair, and smiled brightly up at him. "That's better," he told her, and bent to kiss her. "And next time. I'll be right there with you, to see your face, too."