The Friday Setupbysoaf©
My wife, Michelle, and I have been married for six years and I'm the luckiest guy in the world. I'm 50, and Michelle's 37 and scalding hot. Physically, her cheekbones suggest Nicole Kidman, but her lips evoke Claudia Schiffer. Her emerald eyes are all her own and she wears her auburn red hair in a flirtatious bob. Thanks to many years in the gym with real weights, not the Ken & Barbie kind, her body has only gotten better and better. At 5'-5" her 127 pounds are as amazing to caress as they are to behold. Far stronger than she looks, her ratios are my idea of perfection. (I never did like the twigs.) Her magnificent 36 D's are perfectly balanced by her 37-inch hips and her tiny waist completes an incredible package of curves. Her taught belly contrasts with the healthy "pop" of her super tight ass, which, by the way, is delicious. Basically, she's Fergie from the neck down, but with even better boobs. Yes, she still turns heads, and she always turns mine!
Her personality is even better. She's not what anyone would call a tomboy, but she'd rather hang out with the guys and have a few beers while watching the game than go to the mall. She's not above a spa day, but I'm right there with her on that one. Music, movies, vacations, and sex...our tastes and desires just naturally line up. Our home is in habitable order, but she doesn't believe that it always has to look like the maid just left.
Sexually, Michelle is basically submissive and I'm a bit of a switch. When she senses me topping from the bottom, she'll take the lead and dom quite nicely. Like I said, I'm a very lucky guy.
Being a typical male, not even that was enough. Mind you, I would never cheat on Michelle. Why would I? Besides being a loving knockout, there was nothing she wouldn't at least try in the bedroom (don't knock anything until you've tried it twice is our motto), and most of our wilder experiments have stayed on the permanent menu. Still, there are certain times when an extra set of hands or another warm mouth could top things off quite nicely. I was interested in exploring that. After all, there is only so much that one girl can do at a time. In other words, I'm a typical male.
In her 20's, before I knew her, Michelle was, upon occasion, the girl dancing on the bar with another hot chick. One night she actually made out with a girl at her then husband's urging, only to find out on the way home that he couldn't handle it and had become jealous. Not being able to handle it was not a problem that I was likely to have, but his reaction had left some baggage that I'd have to clear out of the way if my little dream was ever going to come true.
For me, it wasn't about me having the chance to score some hot strange with my wife's blessing, participation, and help. No, what I really wanted to see was Michelle open up to the bi-side that she likes to tease me exists. Get a few beers in her and it's clear that she'd happily go down on Charlize Theron or Eva Mendes, but I didn't see that happening any time soon. Any talk down those lines quickly ended in reality. While I think that Michelle would have loved the chance to play with a girl, she clearly didn't feel the need to watch me sink hips deep into another woman's pussy. Still, with the right person, I felt that there might be some room for a third, if certain lines weren't crossed.
The thing was, neither one of us wanted to deal with the complications of involving a friend, and strangers and professionals were not on our "to do" list, so it remained the talk of fantasy. Besides, as it was, we each had a hard time keeping up with the other in bed, or on the counter, or wherever.
Whenever I think that Michelle might just be amusing herself by teasing me to the point of frustration about the idea of her playing with another girl, my mind flashes back to that night a few years ago in a VIP booth at a Toronto strip club. The girl's name was Bentley, and as I recall, I introduced Michelle as "Mercedes" and myself as "Enzo" (my name is Scott). Neither Enzo nor Scott was needed in that booth! What I remember between the girls was a lot of making out, heavy petting, mouths sucking tits, and ultimately a bouncer doing his job when he stuck his head through the curtain to tell my wife that she had to keep her panties on. He was a little late, and things had gone far enough that it seemed that the smart thing to do might be to go before we got into some real trouble. Still, it seemed to me that Michelle had truly enjoyed playing with another girl. Better yet, she clearly saw that it didn't freak me out.
That memory now seemed like a distant dream, and just when I resigned myself to the fact that the perfect storm would never actually materialize, someone neither quite friend nor stranger popped back into our lives.
Tracy is a friend of my family and I had known her for almost 25 years. She is seven years younger than me, and while always friendly, we were never particularly close. Tracy is an advanced, slightly Amazon version of the Anna Nicole prototype (version 2.0, slightly post-centerfold/pre-cow).
She has Michelle by two inches in height and probably fifteen pounds. Tracy's hips, waist, and chest are an inch or so bigger around than Michelle's and her enhanced DD's are impossible to ignore. Everything about her body says "Kuh Pow!" If you asked her to wear a nice navy blue skirt with a simple white blouse, the outfit that passes for professional on most women instead screams, "sex bomb!" on Tracy.
Tracy has a personality that matches her stunning looks: big and bold. She projects an aura that she's used to getting what she wants. And what she usually seems to want the most is cock, and a variety of it. She's always had a habit of moving from one guy to the next, but of not quite letting the first guy know that she was moving on to the other one. In her younger days that proclivity led to a few testosterone fueled altercations among the incoming and outgoing guys, and as she moved through her three marriages, it fueled legal bills instead. The girl wasn't out to hurt anyone; she just liked cock more than most girls and didn't care about the collateral damage left in her sexual wake. With her looks and personality, she saw no reason to deny herself at the sex buffet.
A couple of her divorces ended well financially. Combine that with her successful career, and you have a very brassy and independent woman. The kind that could hurt you if you fell hard for her, but the kind that could be the stuff of dreams if you knew the terms upon which you were playing.
Apparently Tracy's tendency to take a new lover before leaving her last also manifested itself by fucking guys who likewise had not "officially" moved on from their current girlfriends. In college that resulted in a lipstick message scrawled on her dorm room door that simply proclaimed "Cum Guzzling Slut". Most people would keep that little fact a secret, but Tracy somehow managed to share that nasty tidbit with me some years ago. Why would a girl tell you something like that unless she wanted to make sure that you knew?
I had also heard a third hand story about how her first husband had gotten pissed at her on their honeymoon when he walked into the bar to meet her and found her making out with another chick. Jeez, another guy that was clueless when fortune was trying to tap him on the shoulder! Dumb bastard. I had no doubt that Tracy was dynamite between the sheets.
Michelle had met Tracy on several occasions and while she liked her enough, she thought that, while hot, the girl was trouble. And Michelle was right...if you were looking for a soul mate. However, if you were looking a plaything to add little extra spice to things, she fit the bill perfectly. I considered Tracy's transient sexual nature to be a plus since I figured that Michelle wouldn't be threatened by someone who was clearly going to be moving along. It also didn't hurt that Tracy was six years older than Michelle. Clearly, it wasn't about me chasing some younger thing.
Like I said, it wasn't like I was out to sink my cock into Tracy's pussy. What I wanted to see was my sexy wife turn the tables on the juicy slut and take her on a mind trip the likes of which neither of them had ever considered. I just wanted a ticket to the show. (And maybe a supporting role in the sequel. Like I said, I'm a typical guy.)
So knowing all that, when Tracy relocated back to our area, I suggested to Michelle that we invite her over for dinner one Friday. Michelle raised an eyebrow and gave me a knowing look, half naughty and half reproachful, letting me know that she still considered Tracy to be a bit dangerous. I smiled almost innocently and told her not to worry, but quickly added that if it turned out that she felt the need to give Tracy the ride of her life, I would completely understand. Inside my own head, visions were quickly forming of us reducing Tracy to a pile of post-orgasmic mush. If anything like what I had in mind came to pass, we'd ruin the girl for anyone else and she would thank us for it.
"Of course, call her," Michelle said, clearly enjoying the fact that I'd get hard thinking about it while she knew full well that nothing would ever come from it. I love it when my wife underestimates me.
If I could sit back and be patient enough to let things unfold between the ladies, I had a feeling that things would turn out plenty hot between them and very OK for me too. For this to work all I needed to do was put the pieces in place and see if they started moving in the right direction. I knew that Michelle wasn't nuts about Tracy's type-A directness, so my job would be to make sure that it was Michelle who controlled the situation, whatever that turned out to be. Friday couldn't come soon enough.
When the doorbell rang, it was immediately clear that Tracy was as smoking hot as ever. The exquisite beach blonde was wearing a yellow floral sundress that alternately hid and exposed her sumptuous curves beautifully. Her heeled sandals had the exact effect that she wanted on her meaty but toned calves. Michelle had opted for some comfy green yoga pants that wrapped her sculpted ass like a present, and topped it of with a form fitting white exercise shirt that struggled to encase her ample breasts.
After quick hugs all around, we settled into some Margaritas to catch up. I played host, moving around occasionally to freshen drinks or refill the snacks, always taking the chance to lightly brush my wife's arm or run a finger down her back when I passed by her.
Sometime during our second round, Tracy piped up, "You guys seem so awesome together. I wish I had a guy like Scott".
"Honey, there aren't too many like Scott!" my wife sweetly replied while giving Tracy's forearm a consoling rub.
"I know. It's just that I since I got divorced I can't seem to meet any decent guys," she confided.
"Maybe that's because you've already had them all!" I jabbed with a hint of mischief.
"Very funny, Mister! It's easy to joke when you've got a gorgeous wife who obviously adores you, isn't it?"
"Be nice!" my wife chided.
"Sorry Tracy," I jokingly apologized. "You kind of lobbed that one up there for me."
"It's OK," Tracy said while smiling and adding a playful swat. "Besides, I've got my faithful Hitachi to get me by."
BINGO! Game time.
I feigned a quizzical look as I sensed Michelle draw a deep breath. We both realized that we'd reached a turning point. My mind was racing, but I knew this was where I had to keep Tracy from taking control, and instead hand the reins to Michelle.
Tracy let the comment hang there, to gauge our reaction, and seemed to be on the verge of explaining exactly what a Hitachi was to the straight-laced couple for which she had mistaken us. I beat her to it.
"Well, from what I can tell, the Hitachi is good for banging out a few nice quick, hard ones, but sure it doesn't measure up to a full blown Sybian ride."
Now Tracy was the one who looked confused, and Michelle had a curious but cautious look on her face. I could tell she was in, but I knew that I better watch my step.
"What if I told you that you could keep that pretty little dress on and have a half a dozen soul crushing orgasms in the next half hour?"
"Excuse me?" Tracy quizzically wondered aloud, pondering whether such a thing was, in fact, possible.
"In a sense," I continued matter of factly, "the Sybian is a Hitachi on steroids, exponentially more powerful. It's basically a vibrating saddle that you sit on with a twist dial that lets you control the intensity. It has attachments that you can insert if you want, but straight vibration mode is our favorite."
I could see Tracy's lust sinking in, so to clinch it, I added, "And it has more power than most piston-engine aircraft. I just love watching Michelle get off on it."
That last comment got the Cum Guzzling Slut's attention.
"My God, can I try it?" she blurted out before realizing that I had been the one doing all the talking and that she might be jumping the gun as far as Michelle was concerned.
I turned to my bride and offered to hand over the power for the rest of the night, if she dared to take it. "Baby, I know we've never done anything like this before, but how would you feel about helping Tracy with a Sybian ride? I'll be a good little boy. I'd just like to watch you turn Tracy's world upside down."
When Michelle realized that I wasn't simply angling to provide stud services for the two of them, she turned to me and said, "Why don't you head upstairs and set it up? But you better realize that her pussy is all mine."
"As you wish, Goddess," I replied as a wry smile crossed her face.
"Tracy and I will be up in a few."
No sooner had I left than Michelle leaned over and ran her fingers up the back of Tracy's head, gently tickling her scalp. She gently played with her wavy blonde hair as she leaned in and planted a delicate kiss on Tracy's wanting lips.
Michelle broke the kiss and stole my line when she smiled and whispered, "I'm going to make you feel so good." Tracy's lips gently parted and they enjoyed their first taste of each other as their tongues gave into their desires. The sensation was overpowering for Michelle whose hands had subconsciously moved to trace the outline of Tracy's shoulders and back until she let them slip them across her ribcage, brushing the sides of Tracy's mammoth tits. Michelle was liking this. She wanted this girl NOW.
"Shall we go upstairs?" my wife offered.
Tracy hopped off the stool as if shot by a spring as Michelle led the way, her hips twitching up the stairs.
The girls tumbled into the nicely dimmed bedroom just as I finished setting up the Sybian. It sat on the floor on top of a folded bath towel. I had no idea if Tracy was a squirter, or even if she knew what that was, but I knew damn well that juices could fly once the dial went past seven. In front of the Sybian was its companion piece, a little half stool that let a partner sit in front to enjoy the show. The rider sits a bit lower than her partner and can comfortably rest her head on her partner's shoulder. That sounds sweet enough, but somewhere around level seven, the poor girl riding the orgasm machine invariably winds up with her head in her partner's lap as she hangs on for dear life. At least, that's how it was for Michelle and me. Wanting to stay out of the way, I had set up a chair for myself, slightly to the side of the action.
"Hi Honey! Need some company?" Michelle queried, as my dreams were about to become reality.
Reading my mind, she added, "Why don't you sit in that chair while I help Tracy settle in?"
Michelle explained that all she had to do was straddle it and enjoy the ride.
Making eye contact that was beyond deeply intimate, my wife clicked into semi-dom mode, turned to me and said, "Honey, you're so much better with the controls than I am. Would you mind?"
Testing my earlier claim, Tracy slid on top still wearing her sundress. Pointless, I thought. There was no way she'd be wearing anything halfway through this ride. Her panties, if she were wearing any, would be drenched by the five-minute mark.
As I twisted the dial past three, a gentle thudding vibration set to work on Tracy's pussy. She settled in, leaning towards Michelle with her hands gently atop my wife's thighs. The girls were exchanging gentle kisses as I ramped it up to level four. Tracy purred. The increased pleasure caused her to lean in and really start soul-kissing Michelle. I rewarded her enthusiasm by taking her to five. Her groan was deep as she tried to relax into what the machine had to offer.
As she rode through level five, Tracy still wanted to make out with my wife, but she was losing the battle going on at her crotch. Tracy had no choice but to let her head fall onto Michelle's shoulder and hold on. Michelle wrapped her arms around Tracy to help the girl endure what was to come as I was twisted up level six. Just as we hit the point where I knew the neighbors had to hear it all, Tracy's legs began to tremble. I knew immediately that, if I didn't touch the dial, this one could build for nearly a minute. Tracy's breathing was as desperate as her need to cum. But wasn't she cumming already?
The poor girl didn't even know. Whatever was going on, she had never felt anything like it before. I knew how swollen her clit was getting and how sweet it would be to watch Michelle suck it later. Sparks were flying inside Tracy's head and her pussy had never felt better, but somehow she needed more. Level six is pretty intense for a first timer, but I knew that Michelle's slut could take more than that.
I surged it to seven and watched Tracy lurch into Michelle, squeezing my wife's hips hard as she kept hers planted to the saddle. Her entire body tensed and her breathing got raspy as she struggled to gulp air. She shook with uncontrollable passion for almost ten seconds before mercy demanded that I had to back it off. I quickly rolled it back to level three and gently throttled it down from there.
Tracy was ever so slowly regaining her wits and after nearly a minute of panting against me wife, lifted her chin from Michelle's lap and looked her in the eye as if to say "You've got to be kidding me???!!!"
Then they leaned in for their most tender kiss yet as their hands gently sought the other's breasts. Mind you, we were all still fully clothed, but Tracy had just cum harder than she ever had in her life, and my wife was revved.
Michelle helped Tracy to her feet and eagerly stripped her of the sundress. Tracy's body was even better when freed of it's wrapping. Tracy quickly pulled Michelle's shirt over her head and the girls dove into each other's mouths as their bra-covered tits mashed together. I don't know how they could stand it. Surely they wanted at the other's orbs as much as I did. No sooner than I thought it, they separated and the bras disappeared far faster than if a guy had been involved.
I sat there still fully clothed and as invisible as possible not wishing what was unfolding before me to change one bit. Two of the most perfect racks in the universe where on display and the girls were even more enamored with them than I was! Michelle's hands were slowly massaging Tracy's magnificent breasts, which were unbelievably realistic. While enhanced, the girl had a lot to work with naturally and the taped on water balloon look was thankfully missing. Tracy's breasts were perfectly shaped, the inserts buried beneath a healthy layer of pure, thick, sweet, natural tit, simply giving them the healthy bounce of a woman years younger. Michelle's fingers sank into the doughy mounds with a series of gentle squeezes. While both of the girls shared the same rosy areolas, Tracy's were much larger, and her nicely protruding nipples gave away the level of her heat. Tracy was caressing my wife's curvaceous pleasures as well. Far more than a handful, Michelle's perfect breasts looked merely human next to the Amazon's outrageous assets.