Stewardess Masturbates for Friends

"Me neither. You stirred but didn't wake."

He said, "OK. Let me ask you something. You seemed comfortable with me caressing your breasts while the guys sat on the couch watching us. I was tempted to do more but decided against it because, one, you were pretty out of it, and, two, we hadn't discussed anything beyond you stripping and masturbating. So were you OK with me touching you like that?"

I told him it did surprise me how comfortable I was with him caressing and playing with me in front of his friends.

"What if I would have done more?" he asked me.

I looked at him inquisitively. "More? Like what?"

He said, "What if we had had sex in front of them?"

I thought about it and said that I think I would have been OK with it. My response surprised me. I think it's probably because I was very comfortable being naked in front of them and wanted them to watch me masturbate so maybe I would have been OK with them watching us having sex too. I couldn't believe I was feeling that way but it was true. What I realized was that having his friends watching us have sex might not be any more intimate than me masturbating for them.

Stan asked how would I feel about someone else fucking me while he watched. Would I be willing to do it with more than one man?

He used his story-telling ability to make me think a lot harder about it. He started to describe to my powerful sexual imagination how it would have played out at our house on poker night. First his friends would have watched him fuck me on the ottoman and then I would have invited each of them to fuck me as well.

He described me bending over the back of the couch for one man while sucking another hard and then letting him mount me afterward. I got so turned on by his vivid tale that I suggested that we go into our living room where I took off my clothes and laid on the ottoman he was using in this fantasy he was creating for me. I rested my head in his lap and, with his imaginative story, I fingered to a very pleasurable orgasm.

To make the fantasy seem more real, Stan fucked me afterward as he bent me over the back of the couch. He did it very aggressively and told me to imagine it was an unknown cock being forced into me with another one waiting its turn.

He said, "You're being gang-raped by one cock after another." I felt Stan's cock get super hard as he continued to describe the gang-rape scenario in his colorful words which drove me quickly to orgasm.

Afterward, Stan asked me if a gang rape fantasy would be something I would consider.

I sat up and studied his eyes. "you're serious aren't you?"

I knew that a big part of this fantasy was designed probably more for Stan than it was for me. But I also realized that because of my exhibitionist addiction, I was always looking for the next more erotic thing.

For example, I had this fantasy of working in one of the sex shop picture windows in the Red Light District of Amsterdam. I fly to Amsterdam when I can hold the trip and have gone across the canals with the gay flight attendants who, in my experience, are more attracted to the sexual fringe than most other people.

I never thought the picture window fantasy would become reality but I got more excited each time I went there. I fantasized about being watched from the sidewalk by the curious tourists but, being an exhibitionist, I would enjoy it more than the regular picture window girls because it's work for them but, to me, it would be acting out my masturbation fantasy in front of strangers. After fantasizing to the point of making it seem real, I finally revealed it to a gay male flight attendant friend of mine that flies Amsterdam frequently and he contacted a well connected Dutch friend of his who made the arrangements. I went out and bought lingerie and a feathery style Mardi Gras mask and performed in the picture window for an hour and absolutely loved it.

So by applying the same rationale, that of doing something I normally wouldn't do, I thought I might feel the same way about a gang rape fantasy. But I also was feeling pressure to do it for my husband. He was very excited about it, I think too excited, and even though he wasn't forcing me, of course, he talked about how much I'd like it if I tried it. He said he would make all the arrangements. The men he said he had in mind would be very excited to hear that I was willing to try it.

About a week later, he comes to me and says he has a good idea. He wants me to consider a gang rape scenario that would be played out at hid friend's machine shop. He said it was a place we could use that was better than someone's home and yet still private on a Sunday night when the shop would be otherwise closed. Plus it was a place I was already familiar with and it would be men, like his poker buddies and guys that were there when I stripped before that would be participating. He said if I was going to act out this fantasy, he was going to make it worth my while.

I told him that it sounded like this gang rape fantasy had already been discussed with his friends and the guys at the machine shop. So he explained that seeing me bound and submissive, so fuckable (their words he said) on the cork-board table in the machine shop made a lot of guys very horny. I told them I'd ask you to consider it. So you can imagine that they would be highly anticipating another visit from you.

I just stared at him knowing that he knew how my fantasy mind worked. It was racing ahead visualizing the scenario. I would be taken by surprise, stripped of my clothes, and held against my will while I struggled to get free. I would be passed from one man to another for their pleasure.

I thought about my Amsterdam fantasy of playing a prostitute for one night and having sex with multiple strangers. It was fueling my interest. I probably shouldn't have told him that because he equated it with the gang rape fantasy.

"Same thing Yvonne. Same thing."

He talked about it every day for a week, building it up. He said he had already told his poker buddies who would be really disappointed if I backed out.

"Backed out?" I said.

He looked down. "OK bad choice of words. I'm just saying this has such potential. I told them they'd be helping you with a new fantasy because they already like exhibitionist Yvonne who stripped and masturbated for them. And now they'd love to enact a gang rape fantasy with you.

Stan didn't say it. He didn't have to but I knew this was really about him and not his buddies. He got off to me stripping for his friends, masturbating for them. He liked showing my pussy off after I fell asleep. Now he had this new fantasy of watching men have sex with me. I wasn't there yet but I told him I'd work on it. Plus I didn't want to let him down because he had always been so supportive of me acting out my masturbation fantasy on layovers. I knew he was jealous of that even though he always acted cool as if it didn't affect him.

So my husband coordinated for me to arrive on a Sunday night when I would return from my Amsterdam trip. I would already be at the airport and near the machine shop just north of there. He said that they were very excited knowing that I'd be arriving in my uniform which didn't surprise me. Gang raping a flight attendant innocently lost in an industrial park would have quite an appeal.

I could think of two rules right off the bat. One was that they had to wear condoms and, two, that my uniform needed to be in the same condition when I walked out of the machine shop as when I walked in. He assured me that he would discuss it with them.

So I waited for him to set it up and used the days in advance to convince myself it was right for me and a welcomed new fantasy.