Innocence WatchesbyChristian Black©
I've always found it ironic that sex can lead to pregnancy, pregnancy inevitably produces children, and having children is one sure way to destroy your sex life. My wife, Betty, and I had dated for two years and were married for three before little Hunter was born. Those were five blissful years, sexually speaking. Betty and I were quite well matched. After the first few months of constant monkey love, we settled into a very happy routine of three or four times a week. We each knew what the other liked, and neither of us was afraid to try new things. I'm not saying our relationship was perfect, but whatever our problems might have been, sexual incompatibility wasn't among them.
Then along came Hunter. A wonderful child, the light of both of our lives, but a little spoiler when it came to our love life. For one thing, he refused to sleep in his crib, and would wail and scream unless he was snuggled in between us in our bed. That certainly put a damper on things. Now we could only get lovin' in if the baby was by some miracle asleep in his crib, and by some simultaneous miracle Betty was in the mood for it. Caring for a child is an exhausting business, especially after she went back to work full-time, and it took its toll on her once-robust libido. Our bed became less an erotic playground than a simple sanctuary for sleep.
Still, despite these obstacles, I somehow managed to knock her up again. Johanna was born. The cutest little girl in the world, and a cunning co-conspirator with her brother in the war against Mom and Dad's sex life. If it happened rarely with one child, with two our sexual relationship was as endangered as the Siberian Tiger.
So when Betty's Mom, as a present for our tenth anniversary, offered to watch both kids for a long weekend so we could have a second honeymoon, we jumped at the chance. Jumped up and down, screaming with joy, actually.
Given our time and budget constraints, we decided on a simple Vegas trip. After all, we planned to little more than stay in our room and fuck. A lot.
My wife, now in the realm of Upper Thirtysomething, still turned me on something fierce. She was a California blonde with high, round cheekbones which made her look quite a bit like the actress Naomi Watts. Betty's eyes sparkled blue and her smile could make a cold room warm just by her presence. She wasn't the same skinny girl she'd been at nineteen when we'd met, having two kids will do that to you, but in my opinion her new curvaceous figure was even sexier. Better still, each round of breast-feeding had boosted her cup size a notch and she was now a solid D. She was a MILF to die for, and I think she knew it. She liked to wear low-cut tops and mini-skirts to show off what she had. Nothing slutty or skanky, just sexy enough to turn heads. Whenever we go out, I always have a definite "Yeah, she's with me" attitude.
As for me, if Betty is Naomi Watts, I'm more of a Jack Black. No, not quite that bad. I used to go to the gym, but haven't done so for years. If I had time to work out now, I would probably spend that time having sex with my wife. So I've thickened a bit around the middle, as they say. Still, to my enormous gratification, Betty still says I'm the sexiest man she's ever known. Even after ten years, the thought of time alone to explore each other's bodies had us drooling like horny teens.
The fun started on the drive up. To pass the time, Betty hit on the conversational game of each of us listing our Top 5 Favorite Times We Fucked. The plan was to get so worked up that we would tear each our clothes off the second we stepped into the room.
She had me go first, and for sentimental reasons my number five was the first time we ever made love. It was in my car, back when we were still in college. Both of us had room-mates who refused to leave and so we were forced to find a lover's lane and do it in the back seat like awkward, surreptitious teen-agers. Trust me when I say the Honda Civic was not designed with back-seat fucking in mind. Still, in retrospect it was magical.
"My number five is that time right before Hunter was born," Betty said. "I felt like an ugly beached whale, but I had this weird hormonal horniness thing going on at the same time. I wanted it so bad, but I didn't think you did. Then, in the middle of the night, you woke up and started fucking me from behind. It was awesome."
"I remember that," I said. "Your pussy got so wet I thought your water broke."
She laughed. "All right, what's number four?"
"Uh . . ." I had to think for a minute. "Let's see, how about that time we were staying at your Mom's house before we were married. She wouldn't let us sleep together so we snuck out and sixty-nined in the back yard."
"Oh, God yeah. You came so much I couldn't swallow it all."
"And then we looked up and your Mom's creepy neighbor . . ."
"Yeah, that guy. He was watching from his bedroom window, jerking off."
"He wasn't jerking off!"
"Oh, he totally was."
Betty laughed hard. "Horny old fucker. I guess it serves us right doing it on a night with a full moon."
We went back and forth like that for miles and miles, until we got to number one. That was easy for me. There was really no contest.
"Ray-Anne," I said.
"Of course," Betty said.
That was the closest we ever came to having a threesome. Ray-Anne was Betty's college room-mate, a crew-cut and Doc Martin-clad college lesbian who, it turned out, was Betty's sometimes fuck-buddy. Back then, Betty was wild and experimental. She considered herself bisexual. Ray-Anne, on the other hand, was completely gay. Betty viewed getting it on with Ray-Anne as something fun to do when drunk, bored and horny, but Ray-Anne had real feelings for Betty. She had a hard time with us going out, and "cold shoulder" is a polite term for how she treated me.
One night, my own room-mate begged me to make myself scarce so he could spend the night alone with his girlfriend. Having nowhere else to sleep, I snuck into Betty's dorm. I spent the evening playing Uno with Betty while a very icy Ray-Anne kept making bitchy comments about how we were being too loud for her to study. Betty said she should go to the library and Ray-Anne said, of course, "I shouldn't have to go to the library. This is my room, too." And so on, back and forth, until I thought the girls were going to come to blows.
Finally, it was time for lights out. I wasn't too hopeful about my prospects for getting any under the circumstances, but to my surprise I felt Betty writhe against me. She kissed me hard and soon our hands were all over each other. I didn't know how far this was going to go, but then Betty crept under the thin sheet we shared, opened my pants and pulled my cock into her mouth.
Betty is the greatest cocksucker in the world. Of course, my experience is somewhat limited, but I can't imagine anyone doing it better than her. I think the secret is enthusiasm. She loves to suck my dick, and it shows. In return, I love going down on her just as much. This exchange works out well for both of us.
So I was a bit surprised by her boldness, blowing me with her jealous room-mate not ten feet away, but I lied back to enjoy this treat as quietly as I could. Betty, however, was making no such effort at silence. She moaned and slurped just like she always did. I hazarded a glance over at Ray-Anne in the other bed. The room was dimly illuminated by a blue lava lamp. I could just make out the other girl watching us with her jaw agape and what I imagined to be both hurt and fury in her eyes. Betty was hidden under the sheet, but with all the noise she was making and the way her head was bobbing, there could be little doubt what she was doing down there.
Somehow, Ray-Anne watching made it even hotter for me. And, this might be completely the effect of my imagination, but I think she was masturbating under her own sheet. When I saw that, or thought I saw it anyway, it didn't take me much longer. I exploded in Betty's mouth and she gulped down all I had to give her. (She always swallows. Some people say that doesn't make a difference, but let me tell you- it does.)
When I was finished spurting off, she crawled up into my arms and whispered "Nice?" into my year.
"Jesus," I whispered back. "Very nice."
From across the room we heard Ray-Anne gently sobbing. Post-ejaculation, I was able to feel a little guilt.
"Do you mind if I go to her for a little while?" Betty asked.
Before I could answer, or even process the implications of that request, Betty slid from our bed and climbed in with Ray-Anne.
There was some whispered soothing on Betty's behalf, and then, before my disbelieving eyes in the liquid blue glow of the lava, my future wife began to make out with her boyish-looking room-mate.
I was shocked to the point of complete paralysis. Betty had told me that she'd "messed around with girls sometimes," but hearing that and seeing it were two completely different things. The kissing and stroking led to Betty's t-shirt being pulled off over her head. My girlfriend's lovely, pillowy breasts were exposed and the other girl lavished them with kisses. Ray-Anne's hand snaked down into Betty's panties and Betty returned the caress. I could smell both of their pussies from across the room and the tantalizing scent made my head spin. Then Betty crept down between Ray-Anne's legs just as she had gone down between mine.
What to my wondering eyes did appear? Just the mind-blowing sight of my lovely blonde Betty eating pussy with just as much gusto as she had bestowed upon my cock. Ray-Anne writhed ecstatically as Betty's tongue lashed her. She tried to keep quiet, just as I had, but little grunts and moans of pleasure escaped from her throat.
Meanwhile, despite having got off just minutes before, I was rock-hard again. I started beating it, helpless not to, not caring if Ray-Anne saw me jerking off, hoping in fact that she would see. But Ray-Anne's eyes were closed as Betty sucked her expertly off. Her orgasm came out as a strange, wheezing shudder.
Then Betty slid back into bed with me. She kissed me, her lips dripping with juices from Ray-Anne's pussy. Tasting another woman on her lips sent my horniness into previously unknown heights. My hard-on surged painfully.
"Fuck me," she ordered, like I needed to be told.
I rolled on top of her and fucked her harder than I ever had before. We ground together like a mortar and pestle, her legs wrapped around my back and her hips bucking up to meet mine. Her pussy grasped my cock in a wet, sucking vise grip, hot and tight as a socket. She screamed when she came and I'm pretty sure I did, too. Thank God she was on the pill, because my second ejaculation in less than ten minutes felt like it was twice as much as my first. Un-fucking-believable. Hands down, no doubt about it, the best fuck of my life.
Just remembering that night gave me such an acute erection that driving became difficult. My hard-on was pinned down under the steering wheel.
"So what's your number one?" I asked.
"Are you kidding?" Betty said. "That was my number one, too. I came so hard I blacked out for a second."
"Come on," I prodded. "You said no repeats."
"All right, let me think," she said. She was silent for a couple miles. "OK, how about the Halloween party?"
"Of course," I said. "How could I have forgotten that?"
It was a costume party at the house of a co-worker of mine, several years ago. I went as Satan, with red make-up and horns glued to my forehead. Betty was an Angel, complete with wings and a halo tiara. Her flowing, filmy white gown was shorter and more revealing than what you would expect as an emissary of the Lord, but if Angels really look like her then Heaven will definitely be worth the wait.
The party got pretty wild. The booze and the pot flowed freely and I think there was even some Ecstasy floating around the house. People were sneaking off into bedrooms or making out openly in the living room. There was a pool and a hot-tub out back and not a lot of swimwear in evidence. Porn movies played on the wide-screen TV and the whole scene had the feel of an imminent orgy.
There was a girl there in a blonde wig, dressed I think as Britney Spears or Paris Hilton or at least somebody who didn't wear panties. She was copiously tattooed and pierced and way drunk. Somebody bet her she couldn't tell whose cock she was sucking if she was blindfolded, and she eagerly took that bet. So she sat on the couch with a bathrobe sash tied around her eyes, sampling the cocks of several men waiting in line, trying to guess their names as the entire room watched. She was zero for three when Betty leaned over to me and whispered: "You want to try?"
I looked over at her and she smiled quite devilishly for an angel. I could tell she was serious.
I suppose most men would jump at the chance if their wife gave them permission to have their cock sucked by another woman, but for me the invitation was enough. I grabbed her by the hand and pulled her with me into the bathroom. I bent my angel over the sink and, horny devil that I was, tore her panties aside to fuck her from behind.
I plowed into her hard, enjoying the naughty scene in the mirror. There was something deliciously wrong about the sight of the devil screwing such a beautiful angel. And, here's the kicker, in our haste we'd forgotten to lock the bathroom door. It swung open and there stood a very shocked-looking woman dressed as a tuxedo-clad man, complete with beard and mustache.
I tried to pull out, but Betty was right on the edge and screamed: "Don't fucking stop!" So, as more people gathered in the hall to watch, I fucked my angel wife with an audience until we came to a loud, synchronized orgasm (and some applause.) That was probably the second-best fuck of my life and, near as we could figure, was also when our son was conceived.
"You know what's weird?" Betty said, bringing me back to the present. "I never thought about it before, but out of the ten times we just mentioned, four of them involved somebody else watching."
I'd never really considered that before either, but Betty was right. Some of the hottest sex we'd ever had involved an element of exhibitionism.
"God, I am so turned on right now," she said. With that, she slid her panties off and hung them from the rear-view mirror. She put her bare legs up on the dash and I reached down between them to stroke her very damp pussy.
At that moment, we just happened to be passing a large semi truck.
"Get along side of him," Betty whispered.
I nodded and pulled up even with the truck's cab, and then slowed down so we were going the same speed. Betty spread her legs wide and I plunged my fingers into her with a splat. We never saw the trucker, I don't even know if he saw us, but I gave Betty the first orgasm of our vacation and when we finally passed the truck, it honked twice as if in approval.
We were still about forty miles out of town. Betty leaned over my seat and blew me as I drove for a while, but that's always made me nervous and I asked her to stop. (Those of you who've read "The World According to Garp" know what I'm talking about.) So we were really keyed up when we got to the hotel. Minutes after checking in, we jumped in bed and had each other in a dozen ways for most of the rest of the night. It was an epic fuck, easily in the top five, but I won't get into it because what happened the next day was even more astounding. A new number one, in fact. With a bullet.
After the long night of blissful fucking, I slept like a statue, dreaming happy dreams of my naked wife. I came awake slowly, with a severe case of morning wood. I wanted to share my erectile good fortune with Betty, but when I rolled over to her side of the bed, I found she wasn't there. I thought she must have been in the bathroom. To keep my fire stoked, and also because it just felt good, I stroked my stony hard-on and lazily humped the mattress. I was too groggy to open my eyes, but awake enough for the purpose of masturbation. Guys, you know what I'm talking about.
I don't know how long I did this, I must have dozed off at some point because I had a vivid mini-dream about Betty's lips wrapped around my cock, but eventually I became aware of a presence in the room. Someone was watching me. Naturally assuming it to be Betty, I decided to put on something of a show. I kicked the sheet off and caressed my monster like a beloved kitten.
Then I had to go and open my eyes. Standing at the foot of the bed was a woman who was most definitely not my wife. She was a small Mexican woman in the hotel's burgundy maid's blouse-and-skirt uniform. Very long, very dark hair tied in a rope-like braid on the back of her neck. She was both thin and short, but even through the sexless maid's uniform I could tell her breasts were disproportionately large. Her wide brown eyes watched me curiously, with a hint of a smile. Her gold name-tag read "Innocencia."
I gave a start and pulled the sheet over my nakedness. Innocencia said "Housekeeping," in heavily accented, probably phonetically learned, English. She went back to her work, clearing last night's room service dinner from the table.
Before I could force myself to speak, Betty came out of the bathroom wearing her tiny little silk nightgown. She slid into bed beside me.
"What the f . . ." I said, but she put her finger to my lips.
Betty rolled over with her back to me. She reached down and grabbed my (still raging) hard-on and guided it where she wanted it to go. Not the front door, but the back. My wife's ass was slickly lubricated and ready and I slid in easily. We both cried out as I filled her up.
This was indeed a rare treat. Anal sex just wasn't one of our particular kicks. We'd tried it a few times, of course. I'm sure most married couples do at some point, but Betty said it was uncomfortable for her and, honestly, I was happy enough with her pretty pussy. Now though, with the shock of two strange and forbidden circumstances (the watching maid and the unexpected sodomy,) I was so turned on to be in her ass. I rolled her onto her hands and knees and mounted her from behind, fucking my wife's tight brown hole. Betty reached between her legs to tweak her own clit while the maid watched from across the room.
Betty groaned and pressed herself back into me, squeezing me inside her. I glanced over and saw Innocencia reach up her skirt to pull her panties off. She put one leg up on a chair and stroked herself as she watched us. With the watching, masturbating maid, and the unfamiliar tightness of Betty's ass, I didn't stand much of a chance of lasting long. I came deep inside my wife's butt with an unmanly yelp. Both women laughed hard and, I think, came at the same time.
Innocencia picked her panties up off the floor and tossed them onto the bed as a parting gift.
"Gracias," she said, and left the room, her work here done despite having done very little in the way of housekeeping.
Betty went back into the bathroom to clean herself up, and then crawled back into bed beside me.
"What the hell was that?" I asked as she snuggled into my arms.
"I tipped her twenty bucks to watch," Betty smiled. "I wanted to give you a little treat. Did you like it?"
"Oh my God."
Betty had Innocencia's discarded panties in her hand. She brought the undergarment to her nose and sniffed it.
"Mmm," she said. "That's nice."
She gave me a whiff. Innocencia's scent was light but intriguing.
"I think I'm hot for Innocencia," Betty said. "I got her phone number, you know. I know it's our anniversary, but would you be upset if I gave her a call tonight?"
"Are you kidding?" I've always told Betty that if she wanted to be with a woman again, I wouldn't even consider it cheating.