Elevator Ride to Slut Wife

Compliment leads to elevator group sex with strangers.

Tags: cunnilingus, submission, dress, hotwife, slut, elevator, spank, stranger, blowjob

*

After a year of marriage, my wife and I decided we wanted to go to a fancy New Year's Eve party at a nice hotel. Every large metro area has several to choose from, and by coincidence, they are all on the same night. We picked a hotel in the upscale suburb where Holly grew up. It was going to be a little more expensive than we hoped, but it had live music, not a DJ, and a choice of meals and wines that I found interesting. But first, Holly was going to need the dress.

Not a dress. The dress. Holly was twenty-four. She had been going to aerobics every day for the past year, not that she looked like she needed it at the start. The exercise had renewed the muscle tone Holly developed as a competitive synchronized swimmer in high school. Holly was 5'10", so in heels, she was taller than me - something I find hot and makes me feel studly. The workouts had honed the arms, the long legs, and the tight butt to perfection. She was sleek. She wore a 36C sized bra when she wore one which wasn't often because her breasts stood proud of her body on their own, thank you very much. She dressed so you would know.

I had a nice suit, so I bought some new shoes that would work for dancing. I'm twelve years older. I met, fucked, and surprising everyone married the latest hottie with a new liberal arts degree that the software company had hired. I loved this woman. She was smart, tall, sexy, kinky, and fun. What's not to like? But what closed the deal was her world view.

Holly was what I call a guy's girl, not one of the hens. That means, in Holly's case, that she thought about and talked about topics close to the way I did. Holly didn't worry about gossip. She never thought about clothes, just wore whatever was handy and comfortable. I usually had to give her a wad of cash to go shopping with her stylish mother, or I took her shopping myself. She loved thriller and armed conflict movies if they presented an exciting puzzle and difficult challenge. She thought about strategy and tactics. She could see the global chessboard of politics and economics. All that swimming had made her strong. If we wrestled, Vegas odds would be even money. She loved it when the underdog kicked ass.

And she loved hot sex. Once when we were first dating, after a night out with friends, she called from a payphone on her way back home to her mother's house where she was living. Yes, I stole her from her mother's cradle. She wanted to drive to my place even though it was nearly midnight.

I said, "You know what I am going to do to you if you come here?" We had been beginning to experiment with some rough sex. She knew that she would be spanked and roughly fucked before morning. Thirty minutes later, she was at my door, naked—a guy's girl.

*

The hotel was a lovely suburban event and conference hotel with a ballroom. The food was pretty good. The wine was excellent and plentiful. We sat at rounds of eight with strangers, something that I thought would be bad, but it turned out to be fun with a mostly friendly, but not nosey, group.

When the band started, we got up to dance and stayed up most of the evening. When we were first engaged, I insisted that we start taking dance lessons together. If you want great sex and a good relationship with a fun woman, dancing is the path to glory. You can't grow up without it.

The hotel was near her old neighborhood and high school. On the dance floor, other dancers said hello to Holly. They were former teachers and employers, not old boyfriends, as best as I could tell. She was living at home until just a few months ago when I got her. People were glad to see her, especially her old male teachers. Their wives, not so much.

Maybe it was the dress. It was a backless, dark forest green sequined dress, held up by a choker collar. The material was stretchy and clingy, so it form-fitted around every curve. The front of the dress could not contain the sides of her large breasts. The front was too busy stopping hearts the way it wrapped and presented those magnificent, perky gifts. The dress was short, ending just above mid-thigh, with little strings of fringe sparkling around the bottom. There was a strategic slit in the back that would be useful later.

At midnight, the band played Auld Lang Syne while the balloons dropped. Holly and I held each other tight and kissed with that passion that is still hot but knows it is getting lucky tonight and going home tomorrow. We said goodnight to the remaining tablemates and headed for our room.

*

In the elevator, I stood behind Holly and held her in my arms. Just as the door was closing, it reopened. A couple, obviously coming from the same party, got on and pressed for their floor. The guy was just a guy, probably early thirties. The woman was a petite blonde hottie in a cranberry red strapless dress that showed a lot of cleavage and leg. Her blonde hair was up and held by a fancy clip. Her pretty face was expertly made-up for evening wear. Her lips were painted red, and she was renewing her lipstick as she entered the elevator. They were both wearing wedding rings.

When the doors closed, she looked at us and then looked at Holly, a hungry look. The blonde said, "Nice dress."

I waited a moment and said, "The material feels wonderful. You should feel it. Go ahead. Touch the dress." I looked the blonde in the eye and nodded a little for encouragement.

The blonde slowly stepped forward, then reached out with her right hand and touched Holly's dress on her left hip. She said, "Yes. It does feel nice."

I said, "Oh, use both hands." The blonde put her other hand on Holly's other hip. I put my hands over hers. I said, "It is quite amazing. You have to get a good feel." I pulled her hands up and cupped them on Holly's breasts. I helped the blonde's fingers start kneading the firm, young flesh. Holly was starting to breathe heavily.

I turned to the husband and said, "Push all the buttons for the floors above, and watch." It was the end of the night, the party was over, and most people would be going up to their rooms, not down to the lobby. I figured we had quite a few minutes alone.

I said, "Holly, start pulling your skirt up." She moaned a little and started raising her dress.

The blonde looked at me with a questioning look. I watched her eyes and said, "Get down on your knees." She dropped right away—a natural submissive.

As Holly pulled her dress up, it revealed the shimmering stockings on toned legs, then the stocking tops with an intricate lace pattern, then the clips and garter straps. Finally, the dress was up around Holly's waist. The blonde could see the whisper-thin crotch-less panties that were knit to resemble a pretty butterfly, with Holly's pretty lips emerging and starting to glisten.

I said to the blonde, "Lick my wife's pussy. If you don't give her an orgasm by the top floor, your husband is going to spank you." The blonde moaned and pushed her face in to lick all that silk and nectar.

Every few moments, the elevator doors opened on the next floor and the possibility of being caught by hotel guests or hotel staff. The husband stood by the panel and watched his wife gobbling the cunt of a stranger. The blonde had one hand around the back on Holly's ass, and the fingers of the other hand pushed up into Holly's pussy, working the g-spot.

I reached around and fondled Holly's breasts and pinched and pulled her nipples the way she liked the best. I whispered into her ear, "Cum now. Cum now, Holly, and coat her face with it." I pinched her nipples hard.

Holly came hard and flooded the face of the blonde, who kept licking and lapping as fast as she could. Her face was covered; her lipstick was smeared. The elevator doors opened on the top floor.

I said to the husband, "Push all the buttons down to five. Then kneel down next to your wife and start eating Holly's cunt. If you don't give Holly another orgasm before we get to our floor, your wife is going to whip you tonight."

In half a heartbeat, he was on the floor, licking my wife's dripping cunt smeared red with his wife's lipstick.

I opened my pants and pulled out my raging hard-on. I grabbed the blonde by her hair and tugged at her. She crawled closer to me. I said, "You know what to do. Make me come before five."

The blonde looked up. She said, "What happens if I don't?"

I said, "Holly has a new cane in our room for me to use on her tonight. If I don't come before five, she will use it first on you."

I shoved my cock into her dripping face. Her mouth closed around me warm and wet, sucking and pumping. The doors opened and closed as we descended.

At seven, Holly arched her back, and she moaned, "Oh god, your finger is in my ass," and she came hard again. The husband had some skills, at least.

At six, I pushed my cock deep into the blonde's throat for the first blast of my cum, and then I painted her cleavage with the next two jerking eruptions.

I said, "We're here at five. Holly, fix your dress." I looked at the two on their knees and said, "What floor for you, please?" The husband said nine. I pressed nine.

As we left the elevator, I said to them both, "Stay on your knees and kiss. You should go back to your room and fuck like crazy. Happy New Year!"

As the doors closed, Holly turned and said to them, "After you fuck, one of you can come to our room, to feel the cane. Room 517."

We walked down the hall to our room. I said to Holly, "I wonder if the elevator went up, or down to the lobby for the next group."