Bob's Dinner with Sex Pt. 01

I had been invited over for dinner and family events before, often actually. Rarely taking second in my priorities, I would escort the gift when their door opened, while invited family were often absent. However, beyond that and there was a dinner at the table, not much was normal this time. Little did I know on the way over, the night was going to be the freaking craziest in my life, or that it would reoccur so frequently that I didn't bother to count. And, although more nervous than I had ever been, before I finally fell asleep, I would experience enjoyment I could have only imagined. A private event, relatives and other friends were not invited.

Not a normal conversation as we shared in the past, a monologue of how it got to this point, if anything. Little laughter there was ended before the first glass was emptied, and mine went pretty damn fast thanks to the unexpected topic being discussed. Typically, our laughter could be heard all night and in every corner of the house. I, mostly drinking by this point to help deal with what I had heard so far, only nibbled at the plate before me so I would not become completely wasted. I had never puked in their house from uncontrolled drinking before, and tonight wasn't going to be the first, no matter what else happened. The food was outstanding as always and I prepared for this meal, but my mind overrode the signals to feed my mostly empty stomach. Normally, if my plate wasn't at least half cleared by now, it was because I am holding out for desert.

With glass topped off, Hugo was back to drinking, eating, and listening. Apparently, he would only add commentary if necessary, and provide verbal confirmation that he agreed with his wife when I looked at him in surprise at what I heard. Though I was part of the topic being discussed, all three of us were, thus far I found myself with less to say than Hugo. Not a loss of words, or questions, it just didn't feel right to interrupt unless absolutely necessary. Martina resumed what she apparently had plan to say.

She began to think she would have to give up on me if I didn't catch on after three more hints. She started to take it personal that I either missed or ignored her signals. But she and Hugo talked about it. Confirming they both still preferred that I would be the substitute when Martina got tired going solo with her toys, she then plotted this tell-&-show-me over the dinner she cooked for us. While I took that in, she smiled at me for a few seconds. Then, she asked again if I would be willing to be her sex partner, effective immediately. Her smile returned immediately with no sign of force. Her eyes betrayed her desire for an acceptance of her offer.

I guess it is human nature for silly things to pop in one's mind at the strangest of times. At least I hope I am not the only one in the entire human race suffering from that ailment. I had just been asked the most important question that I can recall, and did I think about the question or just answer it. FREAKING NO! My mind began a review of history like I was cramming for a college midterm. The situation just revealed to me, and I'm trying to analyze events between now and their wedding for any signs that I obviously missed. I know when I first became sexually attracted to her. But, where were the signs the feelings were reciprocated? In the last month or two, where were the signs of her offer? I concluded I wouldn't make a good Private Dick. Then again, maybe I would have, since I knew my glass was empty again.

Crap! A really strong pull on my sack of blue balls immediately snapped me back to the present. The feeling reminding me of waking during a wet dream before getting the chance to finish it with the proper ejac. Martina has done a great job since day one of we're fucking like bunnies, making sure my boys are always some shade of blue as often and as long as feasible. Honestly, I'm not tired of it yet, and don't see that happening anytime soon either, but it is difficult to keep up. If there's a limit to the amount of energy she possesses, nothing we've done so far has come close to her being spent. Martina looking into my eyes, with a frown transitioning to a big smile, apparently thought she'd kill two birds with a single shot, in hope of a new record for the long pull.

Obviously, she took it as an insult I lost my focus. Rightly so, of course. A point given up again, that I would need to get back with interest. Lucky her desire was strong, else my fun time probably would have ended here, one way or another. I already knew it wasn't wise, even if the truth, to tell her that I was affectionately thinking of her while I drifted.

I was very appreciative of all her efforts under, as well as out of reach of that table, and not just for today. Of all the times to be reminded, I understood that as soon as possible, I should get her expensive, new jewelry, made of quality metal with real precious stones if they had them. One more for her collection of plugs. I enjoy looking at her ass, playing with it, and fucking it as much as possible. An apology as well as appreciation, I would contribute once again to her cherished collection. Far from taking the space her shoes did, it was already an impressive collection of sex toys by the day she shared that secrecy with me. But, what did I know. Until now, I had never seen one in person, let alone use one to tease and penetrate the ass of a gorgeous woman. In agreement, she and her husband still took care of growing the former, while I, acquired the responsibility of increasing secrets she held. At least she used more than once whatever I gifted to her, I certainly made sure of it as there was always a way to work it into our fun she had planned.

Not sure if Hugo knew what just happened to my poor balls. He stood up and disturbed the nearly motionless shadows observing everything this night thus far. Simultaneously, Martina relaxed her efforts on my balls, though not fully releasing her grip. He could not see through the table, but maybe it showed on my face and thought it was a good point for an interruption and begin his exit. Perhaps, part of their own master plan, Martina to perform that maneuver on me at some point, signaling she was ready for his exit. Regardless, he knew there was more nasty fun planned, and presence of the man of the house was no longer required by the woman of the house or their guest.

Hugo raised his glass in our direction and then downed the small puddle that was on the bottom. As our talented slut under the table returned to gently handling my balls, lightly playing with them before I completely lost my boner, Hugo instructed us to carry on, wished more happiness and fun for us before we all were through, and bid us good night. Adding as he turned away, he was going to stuff what he could in the dishwasher and toss the rest into the sink, get the machine started and hoped the noise as it worked would not interfere, then go say good night to his only daughter, and finally hit the hay.

He stopped and turned his head, saying while forming a smile, HE wasn't going to wipe clean the table in case WE were going to use it. Part of their plan, a prediction, a hint to me, or subtle declaration of shared responsibilities, he never confessed. Forgetting myself and much more, all of a sudden, I felt like I should do some thing in return for a truly satisfying dinner. In a natural reflex, as I use to always do when invited over for dinner, I found myself asking out loud if I could help clear the table.

Shit! I screamed, but silently after all, Hugo was a mere 12 ft away in the kitchen. My foolish pride surfaced while experiencing an infliction of more pain in the same area mere seconds apart. Well, at least I knew the cause. I would not have to go to a doctor, except, perhaps for treatment of busted balls, not to identify a contagious condition. The bitch under the table just gave my original best friends a bear hug with a hell of a twist and tug, all at the same damn time! WOW! I freaking didn't need the reminder of the thin line between pleasure and pain. Apparently, Martina wanted no unnecessary break in the action and felt her husband can take care of the cleanup by himself. My frustration increased. I was almost willing to cum now, missing out on the fun to come, and get it over with so any future punishment, though light, would be avoided.

My mind managed to command my eyes towards my crotch to give Martina a small WTF look, so I don't know if Hugo was looking in our direction.

Hugo, clearly and loudly said, "Bob, don't be silly, that's what the dishwasher is there for. To do the wife's job so she can relax. Don't ya know, now there's even robo-vacume cleaners for the floors."

I naturally lost focus again, temporarily forgetting what Martina had just done. It was funny, what can I say. I let out a soft laugh.

Distracted, slow registering that he said it not just for my benefit, unable to claim innocence for my discretion, and before the existing compounded pain subsided sufficiently, it freakin' happened again! Not sure the sound was faster than the nerve.

"Fuuuck!"

"Dammnit!"

Whispers slipping beyond my lips enough that the bitch under the table let me know that she heard me. My balls received a decent slap with the bitch's free hand. There was insufficient enjoyment from her demonstration of that skill. My luck! Wife takes it out on me for what her husband said, and that I found a little humor in what he said. The husband clearly more guilty than the audience. Another strike in the 'life's not fair' column. I was beginning to wonder if pain was all I would feel between my legs for the rest of the night, and likely for the next couple days even with ice applied.

I happened to catch Hugo while my head was still swirling from the pain. He was turned toward us, hands full, and was wearing the mischievous grin. I had seen it many times before. It confirmed in my mind that he had set a trap and I fell into it. Not the first time or last. The only question remaining, and I wasn't convinced of the answer, was if his wife was in on it. Afterwards, he would not confide in me if it was part of the great plan of the wicked. Joker to his core, he said it was his lawyer's advice. Doubt vanish, but not entirely.

I managed to stay seated, and probably could not get up that instant even if I wanted to. Martina was now back to gently holding my sack, kissed each ball, and resumed playing once again with them. The kisses only registered as a minor pleasure, she didn't French 'em. She clearly didn't want the fun and games to end prematurely for any reason.

After starting the washer, Hugo reappeared and tipped his imaginary hat in our direction, walked around the corner and into the family room. I barely heard him tell his lovely daughter that he and her mother loved her very much, told Ana to have fun but don't loose too much sleep, and then expressed his wish of a good night to her. Seconds later he reappear, only to disappear going up the stairs to their master bedroom, another room in the house that had not been excluded from the action I was giving his wife, and, she to me. Either all their closets were packed full like hers in the bedroom or, she was saving them for last.

After a minute or two passed, the slut had me hard again. While keeping me in that state without cumming, she laid passionate kisses on my head and balls, and used her tongue to wipe any fluid escaping the hole. Apparently keeping to her schedule, after minutes of this fun, she emerged from under the table, still holding the head of my cock. After licking her lips, her smile reappeared. She pinched the head as she French kissed me. Finally, it was time to move on for the rest of the fun. Remaining clothes came off with ease in record time.

Over stone and wood, we slow danced. I led, caressing Martina's firm ass and breasts. Our bare feet feeling every detail of textures that added to our arousal. Funny, neither material provided any such feeling as I recall when Hugo and I laid down both in back-breaking work over 4 days years ago.

My haze slowly dissipating as the last chorus in our minds began the fade out. I found us finally in their family room, as planned apparently, sufficiently lit by soft light. I was not cognizant of the passed time on the short journey but could determine our toes were uninjured. Knowing she meticulously cleans before I arrive, most inhibitions are non-existent. A prelude to the rest, I palmed Martina's left cheek. My finger playfully sought and found her ring. Felt earlier only when pressed up against her breasts, her moans now became audible, occasionally just above a soft whisper. After circling the prize a second time to assure her there was no mistake, I pushed, but remained at the boundary, intentionally unsatisfying as a penetration by anyone's judgment Relatively soon, it, and others, would be trying on her ring for size. But now, it was my turn to tease until frustration, hers.

My balls still kind enough to remind me of the time spent at the table, I continued returning the favor. Restraint is typically not my strong point, not in these situations, but I didn't let it drop in and go exploring just yet. I willed my finger to massage her hole and push against it, but not enter. At the advice of my doctor to avoid another visit to her office for repetitive motion injury, I mixed things up. Occasionally, I would make it do a lap or two. Sometimes after pushing at her hole, varying the direction I would drag my finger outward pulling it slightly open. I even had my finger make a pass over it when I traced her crack a few times. Martina's moans continued, now louder than earlier, but I doubt they could be heard beyond the room.

Not unlike the other times while I prepared her hole, the slut I was balancing on the tip of my finger sought satisfaction and tried to impale herself by pushing her ass out towards my hand. And, as before, the visitors stopped by; The Sod to whisper in one ear and The Pain in the other. No different an offer by either this time, it happened that I went with the advice of the latter yet again, and kept my fingers out of her hole a little longer. One of these times, I've got to try The Sod's advice for everyone's sake, and plunge several in and wiggle 'em about.

I was enjoying myself, perhaps too much. It was then that I finally heard a soft, sensual moan coming from another source. I managed to pry my eyes from Martina. I found another lovely face with eyes just as wild with desire. There before us was her daughter nude, and calmly kneeling. Between her thighs, one of our favorite toys I have yet to regret buying for her mother, a dildo suction-cupped to that level wood plank floor I laid a few yrs back.