Pleasing Marian

I lay as still as I could on my back, my face turned to the balcony door, staring out onto the expanse of foamy sea with just a hint of desert shore beyond. I was controlling myself to the best of my ability, as I was to be the closer. And I had to remain hard until then. Marian was astride me. She liked to drive early on—until I couldn't take it anymore—and then she wanted to be driven hard.

I strove to keep my pelvis steady, in check, as, palms pushing down on my chest just under my pecs, fingers wrapped around to my side, Marian leveraged her torso, with swinging breasts, to move her cunt in a circular motion on my erect dick, rubbing my thick silver cock ring as it pleased her along her channel walls. Her long, auburn hair tickled my chest and belly as she leaned her head down and coaxed the attention of my eyes to hers.

My eyes flicked away from hers momentarily, having caught in their periphery the big black hands come around her side and spread across her pendulous breasts, fingers and thumbs closing over her taut nipples. But my attention returned quickly to Marian's eyes. I wanted to see the expression on her face at the point of penetration. And I wasn't disappointed. Flames flared up in her eyes, and she arched her back up and away from me and threw her head back and emitted a groan rolling up deeply from inside her as Jomo slowly drove his cock up into her ass from behind. Her hands went up to scrabble at his hands covering her breasts, fingers working her nipples hard. She moaned in the way that always told me she was intensely enjoying the experience.

Marian had been leery about taking this cruise from Dubai to Mumbai, assuming it was be a dull seven days of turbulent sea and dead coastline, but I had known of the possibilities of entertainment on this particular cruise line—I sometimes thought that's why Marian hadn't discarded me yet as she had always so easily done with other young men she had bought to escort and fuck her. I knew how to discover the more exotic possibilities, and, with me, Marian had moved out of the zone of being fucked by a single man twenty years her junior with a big cock as being satisfying enough. I had introduced her to the world of threesomes and ass fucking. And now she couldn't get enough of it.

Jomo was driving now. I continued to lay still and prone—for now—as he drove Marian from the rear, the slow thrusting of his cock in her ass moving her cunt on my upthrust dick. I looked back toward the balcony at the waves passing by. And in the effort to hold myself in check, I concentrated on the neatly folded and stacked room attendant uniform placed precisely on the ottoman in front of the suite's sofa. Jomo was neat and precise in everything he did, which was a little surprising, because he was such a large, muscular young man. I wondered idly as I concentrated on holding my cock steady and hard inside Marian's undulating cunt how often Jomo provided this extra room service for the cruise passengers.

It had been a surprise to find such a massive man working in the somewhat confined spaces of a cruise ship, but even the first glimpse of Jomo in action had shown how graceful and limber he was. He had said he was from Ethiopia and had given us an open, all white-teeth against dark chocolate skin smile when greeting us at our stateroom door. I could tell at once that Marian was smitten with him and wanted him.

"Your stateroom is all prepared for you and your luggage is within, Mr. and Mrs. Wilston," Jomo had said through that brilliant smile. "I will not bother you again. Just leave this tab in your key slit when you are not in the room, and I will service the room when you are not here. Any laundry you need done you may leave in the plastic bag, and I will have it back to you within four hours."

"Ah but I don't mind seeing you," Marian had said, flashing a look at me that I didn't fail to interpret. "You may come in the room any time you need to—or wish too," she concluded.

"Yes," I said to him, flashing that stateroom key card in the special maroon color that I had paid quite a bit extra for—well, that Marian had paid quite a bit extra for. Jomo's eyes went large when he saw the color of the card, and, if anything, his smile broadened.

"I believe we would like to be serviced at four this afternoon—the ship sails at two, doesn't it? Does that suit you, Marian?"

"Yes, it most certainly does," Marian had replied. Her tongue was rimming her lips and eyes had moved on from Jomo's bulging biceps and chest muscles and were scrutinizing something below his belt.

"Yes, yes, of course, Mr. Wilston. It will be my pleasure." His hand closed over the fifty-dollar bill I placed in his palm, and his long, thick fingers interlaced with mine for a moment. I must admit I felt a chill of pleasure run up my spine in anticipation that I would enjoy Jomo as much as Marian would.

Jomo was driving hard now in long, deep strokes, and Marian was moaning and groaning loudly. I felt Marian being lifted up and away from me, and I dug my elbows into the bed, grabbed Marian's buttocks in my palms to keep myself embedded in her cunt, and scooted toward the foot of the bed as Marian was being dragged away. My unusual length permitted me to maintain position inside her and we moved. We were standing now—or at least Jomo and I were—at the foot of the bed. Marian was sandwiched between us, suspended in air, her legs folded above my hips.

Jomo lurched and Marian jerked and cried out as he ejaculated inside her. And then he sat down in the desk chair that had been turned toward the foot of the bed, with Marian's ass still impaled on his dick, and it was time for me to take over the driving. Crouching in front of the sitting figures, I began to pump Marian's cunt hard, and she resumed her moaning and groaning of ecstasy. Jomo was smiling broadly at me over her shoulder. His hands left her beleaguered nipples and reached out for mine and started playing mine with thick thumbs and fingers as he had done Marian's. I leaned my chin on Marian's shoulder. Jomo turned his face to mine, and we kissed deeply as I fucked Marian hard. He opened his mouth wide and sucked my tongue in and held it captive as I continued to work Marian. It was Jomo's turn to feel the channel move around on his embedded cock as I made Marian's pelvis undulate with my slow, rhythmic thrusts as I moved to my release.

Marian was mewing dreamily to herself as I pulled out of her and lifted her off Jomo's thick black cock, rising now again from the rest it had gotten while I took over the fuck. I turned and laid her on the bed. I could tell from the expression on her face that she was well satisfied.

When I looked back at Jomo, he had stripped off the spent condom and was rolling on another one. I turned Marian on her back and spread her legs, ready for Jomo to cunt fuck her now as I had been doing and for me to take Jomo from behind.

But Jomo had another idea altogether—one that I had rarely done, but, in seeing the size of his cock and his magnificent musculature, one that I found sorely tempting. At the same time, however, it scared me. He was just so big.

We wrestled for control for a few brief moments and I broke away, and headed for the balcony. I had barely gotten the door to the balcony open, when he took me in a bear hug from behind. We stumbled out into the salty air and over to the railing, where I was bent over to where I watched the waves lap against the side of the ship four decks down while Jomo first ass fucked me deeply with his tongue and then more deeply and at much greater stretch with that big black dick of his.

Filling me, a big black mitt at the back of my neck, pushing my head down over the railing. Another one still at a nipple, teasing and pinching. And that mighty black cock of his churning inside me. Through our spread legs I could see Marian stretched out on the bed, a hand to her crotch, laying there and watching us. Marian liked to watch me fuck men—so I guess it was a little added thrill to watch a big black stud fuck me over the rail of the cruise ship. It was all about pleasing Marian. I could get pleasure as sort of a by-product, but it, first, was all about pleasing Marian.

And as much as she had enjoyed this afternoon, this cruise—and its special entertainment for anyone holding a maroon room key card—we had already finished what we had come to the Near East for—or at least that was what Marian thought, which was why she hadn't been all that enthusiastic about taking this cruise; she thought she'd been taken to the highest plateau in Dubai.

Marian had thought she was quite a swinger and had already been through a long list of young men with big cocks before she met me. We'd met in LA—up in Beverley Hills—a key party at some heiress's swank West Coast home. Marian had been among a bevy of rich, currently unattached women, who were looking for their next young hunk of a joy stick. I'd been in LA for a photo shoot for an A&F men's clothing spread and the model agency had been asked to supply a bunch of guys for the key party. I hadn't had anything better to do that day and didn't mind earning $500 for an afternoon of fucking lonely rich women. The party started with nude bathing in the pool. All the guys had been given keys to various bedrooms in the villa that sprawled around the pool, and Marian had walked around with a basket collecting them. She and her friends then dipped into the basket and went off to the rooms with whatever well-hung prize had been assigned that color key.

Marian drew me, although she admitted to me later that she had palmed my key while collecting them, so it wasn't really chance that we first met.

I pride myself in being able to gauge women—men are a little harder for me to read—and I was right about Marian. I sensed that she wanted to control, at least at first, but that she also was looking for something different—for something more than she had been getting. I recognized her from the papers and knew that she was one of the richest women in the world. It helped that she was also beautiful—and well preserved for a woman in her late forties—but primarily I was tired of scraping out a living from modeling and knew I only had a few more good years of that. So I had an incentive to please Marian.

She was delighted that I was content to lay on my back on the bed and let her drive initially—and then she was both surprised and pleased that I was able to sit up and get my knees under her butt and push her back, all without disengaging my cock, and piston her through an orgasm. Then she gasped and signaled reluctance but eventually surprised ecstasy when I turned her on her stomach and, after getting her thighs between my knees, pulled her butt cheeks apart with the palm of my hands and slowly entered her ass, first with my tongue and then, ever so slowly, with my cock ring-crowned dick.

Marian had never been ass fucked before—probably no man had dared think of even trying that with her before. But I had watched her closely all afternoon, and I decided—correctly, as it proved—that she really wanted to push the edges.

I was gentle with her that first time. After I'd worked my whole way in, I raised us both and sat back on my heels. She was arched back against my chest. I worked the fingers on one hand into her cunt and found her clit while the fingers on the other hand were working her tits. She writhed against me, in increasing waves of ecstasy, while I brought her to two orgasms before filling the bulb of my condom.

After dinner and drinks by the pool—still in the nude—the key basket went around again.

I watched Marian scramble around in the basket—in disappointment—and my hopes were confirmed when she gave me a quizzical, half-amused look when I lifted my key and dangled it in the air. I had kept it hoping there would be another session. Now that I knew she had wanted me to fuck her again, I put a quickly devised scheme in motion.

I walked over to her. "Is this what you were looking for?" I asked.

"Yes," she said almost breathless. But when she reached out to take it, I closed my fist over the key.

"Why just one? I think you want more. Take another key as well. I suggest the green one."

I would see and hear the effect of Marian's intake of breath. She was trembling. This was the dangerous edge of my plan. I couldn't be sure how she would react. It would have been better if I could have prepared her more slowly for the possibility. But she didn't give me an indignant "no" and walk away. She stood there, trembling and considering how to react. At length, though, her hand closed over the green key.

"Room 16," she muttered.

"Yes, I know. He's over there. The Hispanic hunk. I'm sure he'll please you. I've already told him what you like."

"You know what I like? After only one time?" she said. She was smiling, but in a challenging way.

"Yes, probably better than you do. I will always know better than you what you like." There, I had planted the seed.

I sat in a lounge chair near the bed and watched Marian ride the Hispanic hunk's dick for a while. I'd told him beforehand she'd want to drive at first. I'd also told him what came later and he didn't voice any objection.

When she got that dreamy look about her that presaged an orgasm, I rose and came around in back of her and pushed her forward onto the Hispanic's chest. I was still working my cock into her ass when she spasmed into an orgasm that sent her into groaning writhing that helped bury my dick to the hilt. After the Hispanic had ejaculated and Marian experienced a second orgasm as I slowly pumped her ass, I gently laid her over to the side on the bed and let her watch as I worked my knees under the Hispanic's buttocks and spread his legs and fucked the Hispanic to my own release.

It was all new to Marian. She found it quite pleasing, and she was even more pleased when I told her it could be even more tense than that.

We were married within two weeks—and I came out real well in the prenuptial. We'd fucked before the prenup meeting, but I hadn't finished her, saying we could continue if I was still there after the session with the lawyers. The session went well—with Marian conceding to whatever I suggested—and she loved the dildo work in her ass while I cunt fucked her.

Soon I didn't have to do all of the planning and "what iffing." The basic concept of the trip to Dubai was Marian's idea. She told me of a fantasy she'd long had but supposed it would never happen. I used my connections and made it happen.

In a back alley in Dubai, we found a discrete club named The Hareem. There, while I watched—Marian got an added thrill when I watched—Marian dance in diaphanous veils for a group of six hand-picked Turkish men and then was ravished by them. Even I had never before seen two men sharing a woman's cunt while a third adroitly took her in the ass. I would not have thought it physically possible if I hadn't seen it being done.

After that, Marian had assumed there was nothing else in the Near East to enjoy. But it was clear that she did enjoy Jomo, our monstrously hung Ethiopian cabin attendant. In fact, for the four first days of our cruise, she enjoyed him so much and so often that I'm sure the cruise ship had to assign another attendant to our line of cabins to do the job Jomo was paid by the cruise ship to do. Jomo had a nice thick black rubber dildo in his cart, and he was able to satisfy Marian in both ports at once.

I became a little reluctant to become involved in what Marian and Jomo had going, because as much as I had enjoyed—on the whole—Jomo's dicking on the balcony of our suite, it had left me quite sore. I wasn't accustomed to being a bottom and certainly not for a top as big as Jomo. An Indian waiter at our dinner table seating had much more appeal for me. He was small of stature but very well proportioned. Light-chocolate skin and silky black hair. His eyes were dark and doelike—all innocence and welcome when they gazed at you—and his eyelashes long, like they were mascared. His eyebrows had gone up in an arch when I had produced my maroon key card at the first evening's meal to sign for the wine. He was extremely solicitous to me—almost unctuous, I might say—from that moment forward.

I knew he wanted to be fucked.

I also saw, however, that he was sniffing up a little nose-in-the air tart who was serving a nearby table. She seemed smitten with me, but she didn't appear to want to give Lal, our server, the time of day.

The fifth day out, I decided not only to fuck Lal but to give him a present too. But being there to please Marian, my plans had to be a bit elaborate. There were two Australian brutes seated at our table. The Australian national rugby team had been on a tour of the Middle East and were sailing toward home, taking their time of it as a reward for having bloodied every opponent team from Cairo to Riyadh. The two at our table were not very pretty, having had their faces rearranged regularly, but they were all muscle and height and bulk. Marian melted to them and purred in their presence.

I took one of them aside the fourth night and asked. "Fancy my wife, do you and your friend?" I asked.

"No worries, Mate," he said. "She's a right nice Sheila, but we're just talkin'; we're not trying to make her."

"No worries here, either," I said with a smile meant to be disarming. "She fancies you two, and she's used to getting what she fancies. Would you like to take her to your cabin tomorrow for a private scrum?"

"Pardon me?" he asked in disbelief.

"Would you like to fuck my wife? She likes to double. She'd go with you two in a flash?"

My wife left dinner with the two Aussie ruggers the next evening with an expression of sheer delight on her face. I more than slightly regretted that I wasn't going with them.

The tart serving the next set of tables over had been broadening her territory for the last couple of nights, coming by and asking if there was anything else she could get me. I made sure that my maroon key card was out on the table so she had no question about the services to which I was entitled on this cruise—but yet she still came nosing around. Lal didn't mind at all that she was hustling in on his territory. He was heartsick over her and was just happy she was coming near even if she wasn't even acknowledging his existence.

That evening, as my wife was being escorted away for the rugby match of her life, the tart drifted my way.

"Will there be anything else tonight, Mr. Wilston?"

"Yes," I growled in a low, husky voice full of lust, which if I geared it correctly, made her start to flow in anticipation. "A bottle of Shiraz in my cabin in twenty minutes—and a box of condoms. You needn't wear panties."

She was swinging her tail and looking quite pleased with herself as she moved away from the table to fill my order.

I told Lal separately to come to my cabin in forty minutes—that I would leave the cabin door unlatched—and to enter quietly. That he would enjoy the rest of the evening, I thought.

Lal did enter quietly and stood in the shadows of the entry way. The tart was on her knees at the foot of the bed, her back to the door and her mouth sucking my cock. When Lal arrived, I made her crown my cock with a condom, and then I pressed her belly down on the bed and started fucking her doggie style. She seemed to be enjoying herself immensely. I motioned for Lal to strip and roll a condom on and then waved him over to the foot of the bed, and we barely missed a stroke as I pulled out of the tart and he stepped in and thrust inside her. She grunted and flopped around a bit in indignation that Lal was now fucking her. But I lifted my leg and straddled her buttocks in front of Lal, and soon she had something else to think about as I was working my cock into her ass. Lal, his chest rubbing against my shoulder blades and my butt cheeks pressed into his groin, sighed and moaned in my ear.