She Did Not Stop Ch. 02

He sat close to me, his leg firmly against my leg, not just a casual touching of knees. He drank his coffee with his left hand because his right hand was on my leg, caressing my thigh from knee to hem. I opened my legs for him, so he could feel higher up. And then he was under the hem, under my skirt, up my skirt, and his fingers touched my crotch. Even through pantyhose and panties, I could feel him stroking up and down my slit, splitting the labia and pushing the fabric into my opening pussy. My engorged and wet lips opened to accept the pressure of his fingers pushing between them. I closed my eyes and sighed. I'm sure both men noticed. And approved.

Terry got up to go to the men's room. My husband asked me if I was going to go on letting people see him feeling me up like that. "They know us here, they know that we are married. And here's this strange man sitting close to you and touching you. They will know that something funny is going on."

"I know, honey, but . . . well, it's . . . my pussy belongs to him. He will own me today, tonight, own my sex. If you don't want him to own my pussy today, you have to do something." He just stared at me. He didn't tell me not to, he didn't tell Terry not to. And I couldn't or wouldn't stop it. Like that first time, he let me do what I wanted, whatever felt good. And today, good was for me to be used. Like a constantly wet, voracious, hot sex toy. Something you used, something to stick things into.

With that, I got up to go to the ladies room. As I was sitting there with my pantyhose and panties around my ankles, I decided to take control and have fun with this situation. I took them all off, put the panties in my purse. Then I cut a slit in the crotch of the pantyhose. It was easy to do with my fingernails sharpened. Now whatever man wanted me, he could easily get to me, get his hands on my sex, get his fingers or tongue or organs into my lips and hole.

As I walked back to the boys, my pussy was tingling. Some from the anticipation of being touched, some from the rough edges of the rip in the pantyhose scratching my sensitive parts with each step. I got back to the booth and sat with Terry again.

HE

It was obvious to anyone who looked that they were a couple. He played with her leg, moved her skirt up, way up her legs, and felt her thighs and crotch. Yes, it was the same denim skirt she wore weeks ago when we had our first orgy. Our waitress and other diners could see easily. He pushed her skirt all the way up, felt the crotch of her panties. They were bright pink today for high visibility.

Between coffee and pancakes, she went to the ladies room, when she came back she put her balled up panties onto the table in front of me. Holy crap. She bent over and said in my ear, "He says he owns your wife's pussy. He wants to see it, he wants to fondle it. He wants to use your wife and wants others to see him doing it, too. He doesn't want my sex covered. He wants people to see him play with it."

She sat down again next to him, but this time on the outside of the booth where she was even more visible to onlookers. He continued to feel her as much as he could, never mind who was watching. He had trouble getting his hand into her goodies at the restaurant, the angles were not quite right physically. Her skirt was up to her crotch, her legs visible to the top, and open, and his hand between them, for most of the meal.

SHE

It really was a little embarrassing. But it was so hot! Terry's hand was up my skirt, in my crotch, feeling my pussy for most of the meal. Others, anyone who walked by, could see my legs open and his hand between them. I was soaked, my pussy dripping. He couldn't actually get his fingers far inside me, so he stroked my crotch gently the whole time, through the slit in my pantyhose, up and down my wet lips.

My husband probably could not see directly what was going on with the table in the way, but he could easily sense when Terry flicked my clit occasionally and I jumped a little. I was hot to trot but we couldn't do much more in that place. So we just finished breakfast, a little uncomfortably, I admit. The waitress really slapped the bill down on the table. I think she was a little pissed at our brazenness.

HE

On the way home I drove and they shared the back seat. I couldn't see much of the activity in the back seat while I was driving but I heard a lot. For a while they kept up a running commentary about who was touching what or inserting what where. "I love kissing your breasts." "Oh, you ripped open your stockings, you dirty girl!" "Put another finger in me!" "Lift up so I can unzip." In the rear view mirror, I could see them kissing, and I got occasional glimpses of his hand on her breast or up her skirt. I could hardly concentrate on driving safely.

"Drive slowly, honey. Take the scenic route. We need time to play." And then I couldn't see him anymore. She was in the way. She was straddling his lap and her skirt was around her waist. Obviously she had jumped on his dick and every bump on the road was helping them move up and down and in and out. I heard moans and grunts and cries and calls to "Fuck Me!"

When we got back to the apartment, she walked casually from the car to the door in her short skirt with strands of his cum flowing down her legs. I'm sure if any of the neighbors saw her, they noticed. Hard to miss white cum trailing down her pantyhose. We shed all our clothes in the living room, and she and I had one more screw session before we even got to the bedroom.

We went to the football game that afternoon, which was the ostensible purpose of his weekend visit. In the stands we sat together, as usual, with both of us feeling her legs and trying to get up to the goodies, as usual. But it really was too public to do much. So after the game (we lost, oh, rats) we went to dinner, drank too much, went back to the apartment and drank even more too much. After a quiet evening of movie and cuddling and a little playing, we crashed.

In the morning, we all had a little sex. Slow and gentle. He got into her first again, as usual, too. But none of us was up for the sort of frantic fucking that had filled our previous days.

After he left, she and I had a long talk. I couldn't believe how fiery she was, how open, how enthusiastic she was to be kissed and fondled and played with and poked and probed and fingered and fucked by another man! A friend of mine, no less! Over and over again! While I watched! And then played with in public, in front of people who knew us, even if that embarrassed me. What a slut!

Oh, I don't blame him much. Guys are like that. Most of us will fuck anything that moves and has holes. Not enough blood to run the penis and the brain at the same time, right? I let him go first after all. I even encouraged him to take her. I told her she could do what she wanted, have fun - and I meant it! It is one of the great joys of my life that she gets so much pleasure out of sex. I told her to go ahead. I lifted her skirt and took off what little protection she had to fend off marauding males. Like us. Yeah, maybe she enjoyed it a little too much. At least partly my fault.

I do have a problem with him being so possessive about her pussy. And she permitting it, not discouraging him in any way from thinking that he has rights to plunder it. I will have to talk to him - and her - about that.

SHE

I was completely fucked out that weekend. I couldn't count the number of orgasms I had. Or the loads of cum I took in and dripped out.

Tommy was really kind of freaked out at how enthusiastic I was to have Terry fuck me again and again. I couldn't help it. Having another man, a strange man, and an attractive one like Terry want me just for sex . . . was intoxicating. Hypnotic. I just could not resist. I lusted to have him all over me and all *in* me. I've never had the freedom to do that before, to be just a sex object for a hot guy, to have a guy want to fuck me morning, noon, and night! To have his fingers probing me and his cum flowing out of me all the time! God, that was hot. My cunt was hot and wet and open all day.

Tommy was not happy about my enthusiasm, but I couldn't in all honesty promise him that it wouldn't happen again. Hey, he let the genie out of the bottle the first time he let his friend reach into my pants! My husband let another man fuck me with his fingers and watched while he made me come standing there in the kitchen that day. He even took my panties off - my husband removed my underwear so his friend could get at my pussy - gave his friend explicit permission to get into my sex! And then just a few minutes later, he gave his friend permission to fuck me and to shoot his cum into me. Boy, that was a day, just a piece of meat being passed around for men to use! Willing meat, compliant meat, even eager meat, for sure. I enjoyed the hell out of it.

He encouraged me to play the slut. He exposed my slutty sex to his friend and invited him to put his hot dog in my bun! So he should not have been surprised much when I enjoyed being that slut for him. And wanted to do it again.