Acting Out Fantasies Pt. 03

Thank you for all the positive votes. This story is taking a life of its own. Have written material for about 3 more parts, but a long way to go to the end of the story. Love honest feedback, so keep it coming!

As for her husband Pete, he was still trying to come to grips with what was happening. One part of his brain was screaming at him to put a stop to this, that neither he nor Michelle were ready for what was happening. He should tell them as much, and take her home.

Another part of his brain was questioning what was going on with Michelle. This was so out of character, so different from anything she had ever indicated was going on in her thoughts. Pete wondered if she had just simply snapped. Yet it seemed like she had been planning this in her mind for a long time, and she was so calm and steady about her decisions. She had told him to book the room a while back, and what conditions she wanted, so it didn't seem like she was losing it.

Yet another part of him was angry that he had not been able to unlock this part of her before now, and why she had not allowed him to do it. He wanted to understand why this was the moment the dam broke.

Another part of him was worried that these things, done in a hotel lobby with many phones locked on her face and body, could completely ruin her, and him -- even their family. But as always tonight, the biggest part of his brain, the one connected directly to his cock, was screaming to let this ride out, and see where it took them, consequences be damned.

He looked over at her, and realized that just by stating her slut contract, she had started to rock back and forth with her hips yet again, and her pussy was beginning to gush yet again. Pete was incredulous, a feeling that increased when, without being told to do so, she put her hands behind her head submissively.

"You still want that fucking?" Jim asked, interrupting Michelle and Pete's thoughts.

"Yes, sir!" said Michelle.

"How bad do you want it?" Jim asked, provoking her.

"Sir, I'll do anything, just let me feel all your cocks in my pussy. It is aching!"

"OK slut, now you'll get your wish. Guys, let's get her upstairs." They lifted her up by her elbows and ushered her into the elevator, leaving her dress in the lobby with the hotel worker. They gave her plenty of room as they walked to the elevator, allowing her nudity to be accentuated. To get from the bar's parlor to the elevator was about 50 feet, and it required her walking past the hotel's front windows. She shuddered thinking about how many people might see her, not just from this walk, but from all of the guys sharing videos with friends.

A meme passed in front of her mind in the form of a banner on a break room. In it she was naked with a smile, held up with feet spread wide by a bunch of plumbers dressed in workmen's overalls. A caption at the top read, "Don't Miss the Plumber's Convention: We'll show you where to put the pipes."

For her part, Michelle, for the first time that night, felt the chill of the lobby. Goosebumps formed as they walked and she felt the draft from the A/C. Her already-hard nipples shriveled painfully. Her sense of vulnerability heightened at the sensation of the cool air coupled with her nudity.

She was the only one naked, surrounded by 5 fully clothed men. She felt the urge to rub her naked body against the clothing of one of the men. She also felt the urge to see a photo of what was going on now. It was one thing to the naked when sexual things were going on, it felt entirely different to be naked in front of clothed men, when nothing overtly sexual was going on. She decided that she loved that feeling and would like to explore it further.

As they arrived at the elevator, Jim pushed the button to their floor. They stood for a second, hearing the elevator do its work.

"You guys look like the cat's meow!" Michelle said. "You came here for a local plumber's convention, but you got a naked slave. How awesome is that?"

"Pretty awesome," said Mike. "I never thought I'd get a night like this." They all nodded in agreement.

"A weekend," she reminded them. They just looked at her and shook their heads in disbelief at her assertiveness.

The elevator door opened, and they all got on. As soon as it closed, one, and then another and then another, put their hands on Michelle's body. She had put her hands at her side for the walk to the elevator, but she wanted to give them full access to her body, so she clasped her hands behind her head once again.

Hands were all over her breasts now, and they were pulling her nipples out, just as she had done to herself for the men in the lobby. She felt pain from what they were doing, but it was softened by the fact that she was turning on these men. It was also softened by other hands that were cupping her ass, squeezing and kneading them.

Bob pulled the men to one side or the other of her, then bent down and grabbed her lower lips. They were slick, but not too slick for him to pull them down grotesquely. Even with this pain, and this mauling, Michelle never let her hands leave the back of her head. Pete was catching it all on film.

This was the scene when the elevator opened at their floor. They all looked out and saw another group of men in the elevator parlor. They were all holding beers and looked like they were enjoying the conference in their own way. But they all stopped when they saw the sexy, naked woman being touched inside the elevator.

Mike led the way to the room, the other men slack-jawed, staring in disbelief, not only because there was a naked woman, but also because she was relishing the caresses she was getting and had no embarrassment. As Mike opened the door, and they led Michelle in, he waved to the other men, and left the door open.

Once they got into the room, Mike spoke up first. "Bend over, legs straight, and put your elbows on the bed," he said. Michelle complied.

"Now spread your legs." Again, she did as she was told.

He walked up to her, and squeezing her left buttock with his left hand, took his right hand, and spanked her right cheek. He rubbed again, then spanked again. This continued for a minute or two. He was taking control of her, letting her know that she was theirs.

He leaned over after a minute or two toward her ear, and still swatting her ass, he asked her, "Whose pussy is this?"

"My pussy belongs to you guys for the weekend," she responded, then quickly added, "Sir."

Mike grunted, then switched hands. It wasn't long until Michelle's ass was nice and rosy. Despite jumping with each strike, Pete noticed that she never took her elbows off the bed, and never tried to close her legs.

Once again Mike leaned in toward her ear. "Whose ass is this?" he asked with a slight menace in his tone.

Michelle gasped, then said, "My ass is yours, sir."

"Good, slut!" Then Mike took both of his hands off her ass and began to spank both cheeks at the same time, this time with no caresses in between.

Michelle kept her elbows on the bed and began to grunt with each strike. It was getting intense, but never did she say anything that could be construed as a safe word. Finally, after about 20 double blows, Mike relented. Pete could tell that it was taking every fiber in her being not to use her hands to rub her very red ass. But she didn't.

Instead, she rocked her hips in a circular motion, holding her breath from the pain and the humiliation.

Mike leaned in again. "Whose mouth is this?" he asked, as he placed two fingers into her mouth.

Michelle licked his fingers, and pulling out for a second, said, "Yours, sir."

"Good job, Michelle."

"My ass is on fire, sir, Michelle said.

"That's OK, it will get better," said Mike.

They watched her squirm for a second, Then Jim asked Pete, "Do you have any lube for her ass? We want her to be prepared. This will not be fun without lube." That got another moan from Michelle.

"No," said Pete. "She's never allowed anything up her ass before," Pete admitted.

"Well, we need to get some." All the guys looked at Pete, and he at them, wondering who was going to go.

Clearly, they weren't going to offer. Eventually, Pete said, "OK,I guess I'll go," with some anguish on his face. He did not want to leave Michelle alone with these guys, but the alternative was a painful night for his wife. Reluctantly, he handed the camera to Bob with instructions not to miss anything, then headed out the door. There was a 24-hour drugstore down the street from the hotel, so he wouldn't be gone for long.

As he went, Pete was having trouble with his conflicted emotions. He was so turned on by his wife's wantonness he didn't know what to do with himself. But that was mixed with the pangs of jealousy that he guessed accompanied all men sharing their wives for the first time. What would she think of their cocks? How would he measure up? But he knew that the real conflict inside of him was his apprehension about the future, particularly what Jim was planning on Sunday night.

Did she really want to humiliate herself in front of her friends and family? They would never look at her the same way, nor would they look at him the same way. Some of them might use it as a way to coerce her into further degrading acts. Some of them, particularly her conservative family, might not want to speak with her ever again. And what would all of this mean for him?

Pete searched his memory, and he realized that in all of his reading erotica and watching porn, he had never read about a scenario like this, where a woman knowingly contributed to her downfall, going from respectable to slave in one night, and of her own choosing. He had seen videos of women who claimed to want to be exposed, but he had no idea how real those were, or if a family member or friend ever discovered them. He had read stories of women who were "found out" by friends or family, but it had never been done willingly and purposefully.

If they made it to Sunday night, and Michelle had not used anything that signaled a "safe" word, Michelle would be demonstrating to her nearest and dearest people that she was not only willing, but also participating in her debasement. That was unheard of. Yet it was also so hot.In theory, thought Pete. The fallout would be potentially devastating. Did she want that? Did she just want a different life? The answers to these questions lay with Michelle, and she was back in a hotel room with 4 guys she had just met.

All of these thoughts were adding up to an anxiety unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Once again, he nearly turned around to pull her out of the room and go home, but just as he got to the lobby, he heard some guys who had just gotten toiletries from the welcome desk talking between themselves.

"That had to be the hottest, sluttiest thing I have ever seen," one guy said. "She was naked in this lobby, letting us video all of it."

Then another said, "If she is married, her husband is the luckiest man alive. That woman is a firecracker." Pete turned around and headed for the drugstore, proud of his wife, but unsure if he was really the luckiest man alive.

Back in the hotel room, Michelle had looked up as Pete was leaving realized that he was gone for a while. A look of fear flashed across her face.

"Don't worry, Michelle," Tommy said, seeing her look. "I meant what I said to Pete back in the lobby. This is the hottest thing any of us has experienced. We're not going to fuck it up by hurting you, unless you ask for it."

She visibly relaxed at that and smiled. "You mean like Mike burning up my ass?" she asked jokingly.

"You liked it," Bob said. "Don't think we didn't hear those grunts or see those hips moving while he spanked you. And you still haven't rubbed it down with your hands. You haven't fooled me."

Michelle was silent.

"Admit it. It's OK," Bob went on. Then after further silence, he repeated it again, with a little more edge in his voice. "Admit it."

Michelle's voice was soft, but audible. "I loved it. It hurt, but there is something about being humiliated that broke through the pain. If you had kept it up, I would have had another orgasm."

Jim repeated something he had said earlier. "You are learning a lot about yourself, Michelle. I think you need to see this weekend through. You might learn even more."

Michelle silently acknowledged he was right.

"OK, enough of that," said Tommy. "On your knees, Michelle. We're going to put your mouth to work."

Michelle got on her knees, not failing to pay attention to the course ply of the carpet, another reminder of her nudity and vulnerability. Then she watched as the four strangers slowly unzipped their fly, pulling out their dicks for her.

Michelle's heart fluttered, and her blush went from her face to her chest. This was the first time in more than 20 years that she had seen another man's cock. And she was seeing four erect cocks all together. Each of them was different.

She was not so prudish as to be ignorant of the rumors about black cocks, but she was mildly surprised to see that Mike's was not a behemoth. He was big, but no longer than Pete's at about 7 inches. He did have a bit more girth. His also bent upwards like Pete's.

Tommy's was a good bit shorter than Mike's at 5 inches, but much thicker. His was pointed straight out. She wasn't a fan of how flabby he was, but she was a slave, he was her master, and her focus was going to be on his cock.

Bob's was slightly longer than Mike and Pete's but a little thinner. She guessed that he was about 7 or 8 inches. What made his stand out was the size of his head. It was huge, like a mushroom.

Finally, Michelle turned and saw Jim's. It was the best of all four. Not because it was longer or fatter. It just looked clean and taken care of. Michelle realized that, unlike the other three, there was no pubic hair coming from the stem.

Michelle unconsciously licked her lips, then leaning toward Jim's cock, she slowly enveloped another man's cock with her mouth. She was savoring the feel of a different cock and loved the naughtiness of what she was doing. She wanted to take in every moment, so she went slowly, making sure that she gave just the right amount of moisture to her ministrations. She took the base in her right hand, and started stroking in rhythm with her mouth's bobbing. Every once in a while she would steal a submissive glance upward toward his face.

Jim quickly began to moan, both at how she looked, but also how she sucked. She gradually went faster, and heard Jim's moaning increase in intensity. He was muttering under his breath, "Oh, that's good. You're such a good cocksucker! Oh God, that's amazing!" Michelle could feel his balls tighten up, and knew that he was not far from orgasm, so with a pop, she pulled her mouth off. It was Jim's turn to pout in disappointment, and his face showed it.

"Don't worry, Jim. I want to feel that cock inside of me," Michelle said. "Keep it hard and angry for me. I can't wait for you to fuck me hard."

"That is a guarantee," Jim said, starting to slowly stroke himself.

Then, turning to Mike, then Bob, and finally Tommy, she performed the same service. Each one was disappointed, but knew that they really wanted a turn at her pussy. She savored the different feel of each cock, and sucked each one like she was worshipping it, like she wanted to know each cock intimately.

While she loved the different feel of each one, and their reactions to what she was doing, they were not the cleanest guys. Jim and Mike were OK, but Tommy and Bob were pretty bad. She took them into her mouth, though, and made sure they were all well taken care of.

When she had finished with all four, she looked up, and said, "Thank you, sirs. I can't wait to feel them inside of me." Then she stood up and went back to the bed. Then, of her own accord, she put her elbows on the bed, bent at the waist, and spread her legs. For the first time since she married Pete, she was going to let another man put his penis inside of her. Her body was taught with anticipation, but she made herself look forward, wanting it to be a mystery which one would be first. It just added to the naughtiness of the moment.

This was a turning point. Not only was it going to be another man, she was also keenly aware that she had not requested or demanded a condom as a part of her "contract." A part of her was screaming on the inside to at least request condoms, but she wanted the risk factor. This long-held fantasy of hers had included the uneasy feeling that she had been the ultimate slut, if just for a moment. She wanted to feel the sperm inside of her. She wanted to feel the sluttiness of letting strangers fuck her. And besides, she reasoned, she was a slave. She had told them so. Her body was theirs. She was not in a position to make any demands. She closed her eyes, and waited for what was next.

She didn't have to wait long, as soon after, she felt two hands use her hips to line up his cock with her pussy. Then one hand left a hip, and used it to put the cock at the entrance. It paused there, as if it was letting her come to grips with what was taking place.

"Put it in," she said. "Fuck me." Then, with steady and firm pressure, she felt it penetrate her. It didn't stop; it just kept pushing, until she felt the fabric of the stranger's pants touch her ass. He was all the way inside of her.

She sighed and groaned, as her mind drank in the moment.

Another man was fucking her. As before, this new situation made her body feel like there was a sexual electricity flowing through her. She felt tingling all through her body; from her shoulders down to her toes, this tingling came in waves that moved from top to bottom but was also everywhere at once.

Then the intruder began to piston in and out. He started slow and then picked up the pace. Whoever it was knew what he was doing. He would start slow, pick up the pace steadily until he was jackhammering in and out, and then slow down. He repeated the process two or three times. Each time he got fast, whoever it was could tell that Michelle was on the edge of an orgasm, and would slow down. This was driving her crazy.

She realized that her frustration was not just because of an impending orgasm, it also was because she wanted to feel another man's jism coating her pussy. The thought of that made her start moaning in anticipation, and she began to ask for it. "Please come inside of me" she whispered, a slight bit of desperation in her voice.

Someone heard it, and said, "What did you ask, Michelle?" It was Tommy, but she could tell by his position that it was not him that was fucking her.

"I said, please come inside of me."

"You'll need to ask a little bit louder," he responded. She couldn't see this, because she was committed to now knowing who was fucking her, but whoever was fucking her was egging Tommy on, nodding his head.

Then louder, she said, "Please come inside of me." Her moaning was growing louder.

"One more time. We want to hear you beg for it."

"Please sir, please!" She was yelling. "Whoever you are, please come in my pussy! I want to feel another man's come inside of me!"

"Wow," said Tommy. "You are the real deal, Michelle. Middle class wife, begging for a stranger's cock to come inside of you. That might be the sluttiest thing you've ever said, isn't it?"

"Yes!" she yelled. "Fuck me hard! Fuck this slutty cunt for all it's worth!"

That did it. She felt the cock (it was Mike's) inside swell up, and in one mighty stroke, he unloaded. His grunt, followed by the words, "Oh it feels so good! Take my cum, Michelle," told her that not only had she been fucked by a stranger, but that he was black. And that thought, of her sluttiness, made her cum.

It was short-lived though, because her eyes flew open at the next words she heard. "Wow, honey! That was awesome!" That was Pete's voice. He had returned with the lube. She was worried about his reaction. She had wanted him to be there with her for everything, but she had not known how to stop what had taken place, while he went to get the lube so her ass could be fucked!