tagLoving WivesA Carnaval for Claire

A Carnaval for Claire


The phone was ringing insistently, although Claire was amazed that she could even hear it over the crying of her two small children. She was feeling rather frazzled - a typical Wednesday evening emotion for the parent of a two and a three year old. Alex, her husband, was out working in the yard. She finally made her way over to the newest source of noise - the handset was buried underneath a newspaper - and answered it.

"Claire, pack your bags," came the familiar voice of her best girlfriend, Susan. Claire sighed wistfully. The two had much in common, including graduating from the same high school and college, many shared experiences, and an abiding love of good times. Physically they were not quite so alike. Claire had easy to maintain medium length hair, dyed ash blonde, and was relatively tall at 5'8". She was also quite busty, sporting a heavy pair of 38D breasts capped by large, dark nipples. Susan was and always had been petite at a slender 5'3" with a firm set of fake 34C boobs. Her current hairstyle was a blonde, short, fun look that took quite a bit of work to maintain.

"Sorry Susan," Claire quipped. "Those of us with children to take care of don't just get to pack up and go away simply because their newly divorced best friend is enjoying her freedom."

A snort greeted her at the other end of the line. "Fuck that. You're 35 going on 50! Alex will take the kids. You and I are going to Rio for Carnaval!"

Claire sucked in her breath. She had been fantasizing for years about going to Brazil. But still... "Oh God, Susan, I really would love to. You know I would. But Alex and I can't afford it, and besides, there are visas and everything else to arrange..."

Susan squealed with delight, loudly enough that Claire had to pull the phone away from her ear. "Don't worry about a thing. My stupid fuck of an ex paid for the whole thing in the settlement. I've already bought you a ticket - it's all expenses paid. And the travel agency arranged the visas. We're all set to go and we're leaving tomorrow night. No excuses! Your husband already told me he would take care of the home front."

Claire peeked out the window to see Alex giving her a big grin and a thumbs-up. Her body felt warm and tingly all of a sudden as she realized it was really going to happen, and she found herself eagerly discussing plans with her friend.


The next twenty-four hours passed quickly, consumed with packing and errands, including a hasty trip to the salon during which Susan insisted on full bikini waxes for both of them. "Those Rio beaches don't let you cover up much," she giggled. While they were at it, they got matching French manicures and pedicures.

Their flight was an overnight and then some, from Dallas directly to Rio - just over 10 hours of flying time. At the airport Claire had a brief tearful goodbye as she kissed each of her children in turn, and then her husband. It was the first time she had gone away since the babies were born. Alex told her not to worry about a thing, to have a great time, and to come back without any tan lines on that sexy body of hers. She playfully swatted him in response.

Unfortunately, due to modern airport security restrictions, the family couldn't accompany them to the gate, so Claire and Susan made their way alone through the large international terminal to await their departure. Both had magazines to read during the time before boarding and on the flight.

However, unsurprisingly after their frantic day of preparations, the women were sound asleep moments after takeoff, cuddled in against one another for comfort.


"Bon dia, good morning!" came the chipper voice of the American Airlines flight attendant over the intercom system. "In preparation for landing, please return your seats to their full upright position..."

Susan slowly lifted her head from Claire's chest, wiping the sand from her eyes. "God, I could really use a cigarette right now," she grumbled irritably. Claire nodded in agreement.

"We should be on the ground in about 20 minutes or so," she said, pointing out the window for her friend to look. Suddenly Susan was alert and smiling.

"We're here? We're really here?"

Claire grinned widely. "Yeah. I woke up about half an hour ago when we started the descent. I was so excited I couldn't get back to sleep."

The remainder of the flight passed uneventfully. After a long taxi, they arrived at the gate and shortly thereafter found themselves in an outdoor baggage claim awaiting their luggage. Susan reached into her purse and withdrew a pack of cigarettes. She lit one and inhaled deeply, passing the pack to Claire who took one for herself. The two blondes smoked quietly and watched the passers-by as they awaited their luggage.

The crowd seemed to be a fairly even mix of American tourists, mostly a bit younger - in their mid twenties, perhaps - and native Brazilians. Claire gasped as she took them all in. "My God Susan, they're all beautiful. The women, they're perfect - those bodies, and that dark skin! And the men...if I weren't married I think I'd make a complete fool of myself here."

Susan blew out a thick stream of blue smoke and smiled wickedly. "I'm not married anymore my dear, so you'll just have to live vicariously through me. I promised myself I wouldn't leave here without fucking one of these delicious men."

"When did you promise that?" Claire laughed.

"Just now when I saw that hunk over there." Susan gestured with her cigarette at a well-built man with a fabulous smile. He winked at her in response.

Then their luggage came, and they found themselves bustled off to a taxi stand and towards their hotel.


The next three days were action packed for the ladies. They saw the sights. They shopped. They took in amazing dinners in the city. And they went to the famous, clothing optional beaches of Rio to work on their tans. Suddenly, as if without notice, it was Tuesday. Fat Tuesday - Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Carnaval in Rio. By mid-afternoon the crowds in town were already growing immense and the women headed back to their hotel to freshen up.

"How does this look Sue?" Claire asked innocently.

"Provocative as all hell!" her friend exclaimed. "You look hot. Is that the outfit you bought yesterday?"

Claire nodded, lighting a cigarette and checking herself critically in the mirror. She had on a spaghetti strap cobalt blue tank top, cut in a way that denied the possibility of a bra, and a tight black miniskirt that she would never have considered wearing back home. She rocked on her toes for a moment, examining the way her heavy breasts jiggled unsupported in the top.

"I don't know..." she worried. "My tits are way too big for this thing."

"Give me that lipstick," Susan ignored her, reaching for the tube of bright red color that Claire had just applied. "It's fucking Carnaval. Most of the women won't even be wearing shirts. What are you worried about?"

For her part, Susan was wearing a little-boy T-shirt that was noticeably too small for her; enough so that her ripe, surgically enhanced breasts strained tightly against it and exposed most of her toned stomach. A floral wrap functioned as a long skirt that sat low on her hips.

"Let's go!" Susan cried, taking Claire's hand and pulling her out the door into the setting sun.


The crowds were intense, like nothing either woman had ever experienced before. But they were also very friendly. In the heat of the Brazilian evening, and the press of warm bodies against them, both women soon had a light sheen of perspiration coating their foreheads.

Alcohol was flowing freely in the streets. Caphirenas, a potent drink made of Brazilian rum, limes, and sugar, were being poured everywhere from stoppered flasks. Claire and Susan never once found it necessary to step into a bar for a drink - everywhere they turned, grinning Latin faces greeted them with cups or bottles in outstretched hands. Soon both women were feeling very relaxed and high-spirited.

Suddenly, as the sun disappeared beneath the horizon, Claire grabbed Susan's arm and hissed at her. "Look!"

Susan followed her gaze to a group of beautiful young Brazilian women who were stripping off their tops to reveal gorgeous dark breasts while men surrounded them, throwing colorful beads their way. As lights strung throughout the streets began to ignite, along with firecrackers and loud music, more and more women removed their shirts and bras to bare their tits in the teeming crowd.

An impromptu street parade began, and the American women found themselves swept up in the tide and slowly, inexorably moved onward. "I want beads too," cried Susan. She took hold of the neckline of her shirt and slowly tore it until it fell away to expose her perfectly shaped boobs, to the admiring whistle of men all around. Hands reached over her neck to drape dozens of necklaces over her head, not coincidentally brushing against her fleshy mounds in the process.

"Don't be a stick in the mud," Susan teased, lighting a fresh cigarette. "Show your tits!" A chorus picked up the call, although with the Portuguese accent "tits" sounded more like "teets" to Claire. Nevertheless, she finally, shyly, stripped off her tank top amid cheers from all around. As with Susan, she was instantly bedecked with party beads. 'Alex would never believe this even if he saw it - much less if I were to tell him, which I'm not going to,' she told herself as her large breasts bounced freely in the sticky warm air. She took another caphirena and downed it quickly.

As the parade continued, they found themselves winding deeper into the city. The crowd continued to grow, if such a thing were possible, and to their shock Susan and Claire saw the behavior growing ever more chaotic. They had expected toplessness and rowdiness of course, but many women and some of the men around them were now completely naked: thick black bushes and heavy, erect cocks were all around them. Many women were deeply tongue kissing nearby men or other women, sometimes two or three different people in turn. There were even a few couples openly fucking against the walls of buildings. Suddenly Claire realized that she had little idea where they were, and the parade had stopped moving and was now just a steady press of masses around them.

She took a drag on her cigarette and clasped hands with Susan as they listened to the music around them, feeling the motion of people brushing past them, touching them. Feeling hands touch their asses, legs, stomachs. More beads being heaped upon their necks. To the left, a woman with her legs around a man's waist as he fucked her standing up. Kissing and groping everywhere.

Claire felt a soft wet touch of lips on her neck, but the owner was gone before she could see him or her. Then fingers on her nipple, and a rake of long women's nails across it. A mouth pressed to hers when her eyes closed briefly, the tongue probing twice between her lips and then disappearing. She found herself turning in a slow, sensuous circle with her eyes half closed in a dreamy relaxation.

"God, you're dripping wet Claire," came Susan's voice as if from far away.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean your cunt is leaking like an old rowboat, you horny slut!"

"It's not," Claire protested weakly. Suddenly Susan reached down and lifted Claire's skirt right over her waist, revealing thighs and ankles covered in tracks of wetness, and a pair of thong panties that were frothed with a sticky vaginal cream.

"I bet you would come right now if someone touched you right," Susan giggled. As the women both fell to laughing, Susan's fingers slid forward and rubbed across Claire's fabric covered clit - it was so erect that it was clearly visible through the panties, even in the dim light. Claire gasped and buried her face in Susan's sweaty breasts, leaning into her friend in shock and pleasure.

It was only a few seconds during which Susan touched her, but Claire was so turned on that she climaxed immediately. Her excitement did not pass unnoticed. More fingers found their way to her breasts and pussy. She found herself shuddering with pleasure as the anonymous digits manipulated her. With her eyes closed and her face in Susan's breasts there was no way of knowing who was touching her - women? Men? There were several of them, that was all she knew for sure. A part of her struggled briefly, knowing that her husband was taking care of her children at home. But she simply didn't have the will to stop it.

When the first cock pierced her vaginal lips, Claire groaned deeply. It was large - bigger than Alex, and bigger than any lover she had had since college. She felt the shaft gently spread her open, its way eased by her copious lubrication and arousal. Dimly she was aware that for the first time in her life she was cheating on her husband. But that was far away, and in the present, the here and now, a stranger upon whom she had never laid eyes was fucking her hot pussy while she leaned over into her friend.

The sex was relatively brief. Within three minutes or so of thrusting, the man came with a loud groan and filled her horny twat with a rich load of semen than began oozing out of her twat when he withdrew. Claire almost stood up to prepare to go at that point, but almost immediately the disappearing cock was replaced by a long, thin prick that slid easily home inside of her. She cried out once more, and felt Susan's face come down to meet hers. The women kissed hungrily, their tongues darting back and forth and their lipstick smearing heedlessly.

"Watching them fuck you is driving me wild," Susan whispered hoarsely. Her hand was flashing busily on her own slit. "Fuck her!" she shouted loudly.

The sex began to grow into a blur. As one man came and then withdrew, another would take his place. At first Claire tried to count them by the penetrations. Then she tried by counting her own orgasms. Both failed, and she found that only two exceptionally well-hung men who fucked her cunt and left it gaping widely open stood out from what had to be well over a dozen lovers. Finally, her legs trembling with exhaustion, and with her pussy drooling rivers of jism onto the street below, the crowd parted as if in silent acknowledgement and Susan led her well-fucked friend away.


As they stood waiting for the taxi to the airport, smoking their cigarettes, they were still in shock.

"I can't believe what happened last night. Those men...gang-banged me? I've never done anything like that in my life. I feel like such a whore. I cheated on my husband with more men in one night than I've slept with in total before in my life. But yet...it was incredible. I wouldn't change it."

"Well, I didn't keep my promise to myself," Susan commented. "I didn't fuck a single one of these hotties. Of course, I came a month's worth watching you last night."

"Just between you and me?" Claire asked, worried about Alex.

Susan kissed her deeply. That was something else that had changed last night, something new between the old friends. "Just between us," she agreed. "Although you'd better think of a good cover story for you and me and the threesome we're going to give your husband when we get home!" They kissed again, giggling, as the taxi arrived...

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