The Best Party . . . Ever!

Then she found out about this party, which was the perfect, safe, real-life, oh-so-naughty CFNM event to attend with her handsome boyfriend.

But as perfect as this experience was turning out to be, other kinds of CFNM parties — and she'd masturbated to descriptions of them in erotic literature she'd sought out after her initial introduction to the arousing, empowering idea of the tables turned and women completely in control and free to enjoy good-looking, naked men — were CFNM gatherings Kristina had no desire for her and Paul to attend as a couple. Those kinds of CFNM parties about which she'd read after finding Lillian's tale did allow touching . . . and more.

Those parties — as absolutely delightful as they were in the realm of fantasy and orgasm-inducing masturbation — encouraged touching, fondling, groping, having the men masturbate for the women, having the men demonstrate their skills at cunnilingus, having one naked man slide his cock into a lucky female attendee's pussy from behind while another naked man sucked her clit . . . the list of activities was endless.

All with the men completely nude and the women in charge of what occurred.

One fun story had the guys being teased unmercifully by a roomful of beautiful women until the naked men were desperate to come, each woman in turn getting 30 seconds to trail feather-light touches across achingly hard erections. The first man to come was the loser, and all the rest chose one woman to masturbate them to climax.

Yes, Kristina liked reading such stories! And a particular one was even responsible for encouraging her development of the sexy, dirty talk she began to enjoy whispering to Paul as a nasty tease during foreplay.

In that story, women were encouraged to walk up to a nude man, plant their palms against his muscled chest, then slide their hands down, across his abs to feel those little bumps as their fingertips traversed across the sexy ripples, then to flatten their palms against his abdomen and slip lower and lower until they cupped his balls with one hand and looked directly into his eyes. With the other hand now toying with his cock, they were then to ask him to tell them what the man would think about, what he wished he could do, if he were lucky enough to pleasure the woman sexually.

Hearing such confessions from the fictitious men was both educational and arousing!

It was easy to remember some of the descriptions, then mold them into dirty talk that would be fun to tease Paul with.

But it wasn't just the men who spoke about sexual activity in that story. The women also spun out incredibly sexy, arousing dirty-talk tales as they fondled the men, and Kristina liked the idea of that very much, too. Those fictional descriptions in that particular story were easy to remember — they were so hot! — and then to try out on Paul as she got better and better at getting him hard with only her whispered words as she nuzzled her lips close to his ear.

That particular story was so arousing!

Can you just imagine! thought Kristina. How hot that would be! To have your pick of naked men, to walk right up to one and fondle his cock and balls while you looked directly into his eyes . . .

She shivered at the thought of holding a nude man's balls and petting his rapidly hardening cock while looking into his eyes and saying the things the female protagonist in the story said:

"Mmmmm, Donovan . . . I'll bet you'd just love it if I slid this pretty cock between my lips, wouldn't you? I like doing that. It feels so-o-o-o good. And I am very, very good at sucking cock, Donovan. I could take the entire length of your hard shaft all the way down my throat, then slowly withdraw until I had just the head of your dick and a little more in my mouth. Then you know what I'd do? Oh! That little moan told me you must be thinking about this! You'd be right if you're thinking I'd swirl my tongue across that sexy, sensitive spot on the underside of your handsome cock, and I would keep doing that until one more lick would make you come. But you wouldn't be allowed to come, Donovan. I'd know just when to stop. And it would be so much fun to watch your dick throb and pulse while you're just on the edge of your orgasm with a big bead of pre-cum oozing out because you're so excited. I like seeing that. Maybe you'll show me tonight?"

Then the lucky female character in that particular scene released Donovan with a grin, saying, "Poor baby! Don't spurt, Donovan. At least, not just yet," and she sauntered to another naked male, this time approaching him from the side to plant one hand on his firm backside as she slid her other hand across and around his cock.

And the dirty talk began again:

"Mmmm, Garrett . . . I like your tight, sexy ass. I love touching it, grabbing it, playing with it. Feeling it like this excites me, Garrett. Do you like it? What about my fist around your naked cock? Do you like that? I like your cock very much. It would feel so good sliding into my wet pussy. And you know what? I would love to grind my clit against the base of your cock when you're all the way inside my tight . . . hot . . . wet . . . pussy. And feeling you throb inside me . . . oooh, Garrett! I'm so wet right now thinking about that, thinking about how you'd fill me up with your big, hard dick. I'm dripping wet thinking how good it would feel to do that with you. Oh! Garrett! Your cock really jerked just then, didn't it? Did I say something really exciting to you?"

And in that CFNM story, the lucky lady who was making the rounds with the naked men slid a finger between Garrett's rounded cheeks and planted the pad of her fingertip on his asshole. "Mmmmm, your cute little pucker is so inviting. I love that I'm touching you here, Garrett. I love that this right here" — and she tapped his asshole three times — "is available to me. How very naughty you are to be allowing this, inviting it, even. Did you think a woman here would touch you in your most private place? Were you hoping for that?" The man being so unmercifully teased with the woman's running narrative moaned involuntarily at that point. "Oh! Mmmmm . . . you are a bad boy, Garrett! Your cock is positively throbbing, isn't it? I must have said something particularly exciting. Is that right?"

The rest of what happened in that story really blew Kristina's mind.

That story had been her introduction to some incredibly arousing things a woman could do to a man that she had simply never considered.

But tonight, here in real life, and in any situation anywhere . . . NO! Kristina was definitely not into watching some other woman touch and fondle her boyfriend!

Paul was hers. They were in love. The only woman's hands that would be roaming across his nude butt or stroking his hard cock while talking dirty to him would be Kristina's. Stories about gatherings of handsome, naked men being fondled, teased, and sexually servicing women who directed them to perform exactly what the women desired were great material for masturbatory fantasy, but that kind of CFNM party would never — ever — be something she'd want in her real life with her real-life boyfriend.

Finding this kind of CFNM party, though, with all its rules and anonymity, meant that Kristina actually was whispering to her naked boyfriend, who was on display for all the women attending.

This kind of party allowed the women, herself included, to freely enjoy the sight of multiple nude men, including Paul, while preventing any concerns and jealously dead in their tracks, and freed her to enjoy this fun, naughtily erotic way to play with her man.

And the sight of all the toned, naked men! That was huge side benefit!

The entire experience was taking her back time and time again to that first, surprising and so very, very arousing description of a CFNM event she had read all those years ago in a mall bookstore.

So, naturally, the name that came instantly to mind as her pseudonym for the evening was "Lillian," the heroine in the story.

But from the instant she first mentioned this crazy, sexy thing to her boyfriend, she had not told him the name she would give to him for the night. "Lillian" wanted that to be a surprise.

Her fantastic boyfriend was anxious, worried. She understood and empathized, and she would lavish him with thanks and kisses and whatever he wanted at the end of the evening. Still, his obvious embarrassment was kind of sexy given that he could do nothing about his nudity and that the situation meant he could only remain naked for the women, including herself, to enjoy.

"It may be a nightmare for you right now, Paul," she said earnestly, resuming her whispered conversation, "but this is a total wet dream fantasy for me. That you're doing this for me is so special, such an incredible thing to show how much you love and trust me, that I can't even put it in words, the same way I can't even begin to describe how hot I am for you right now."

That statement sent blood rushing to Paul's penis. The mix of love and sex in Kristina's words was intoxicating and irresistible.

He tried to distract himself to staunch the rise of his cock that had been triggered by what he had just heard.

"No fair," he said, pinching hard between his thumb and forefinger, hoping the pain would help slow his building erection. "You're not the one being ogled by strange women. You're not the one naked in front of all of these people. Tell me what else Gloria said!"

Thankfully, the pain — and probably the worry about whatever else Kristina was going to reveal — had kept his erection at bay. He was calming down, with his approaching stiffness starting to dissipate.

"Hmmm," Kristina said, absolutely loving the tease. "What you just said did remind me of one thing."

"What!"

"When you talked about being ogled by the women here."

"And?"

"Let's see . . . what time is it?"

Paul shot her an exasperated glance.

"Like I'm wearing a watch or have a pocket for my phone."

Kristina giggled. "Touché. I guess you don't." One of the women at the party passed close by them at that moment, and Kristina reached out a hand to touch her on her forearm.

"Excuse me. Do you know what time it is?"

The woman glanced quickly at the classy watch she was wearing. "Oh, you're right! It's almost 10:30!"

The woman scurried away, obviously eager to find the friends she came with, and her reaction to Kristina's question put butterflies in Paul's stomach.

My god! he thought. What the hell happens at 10:30 if 11 PM is when this group of women start talking dirty to me just so they can watch me get a hard-on?

"Kristina!" he hissed under his breath. "10:30? What did she mean?"

"It must be only a minute or two before you guys will start posing for us ladies."

Paul risked breaking the rules at that moment, sidling up against Kristina so his urgent question would not be heard.

"Pose?"

Kristina saw a group of the women heading to another room, with the other guests quickly trailing behind them.

"I have to go," she said, turning to face him. "I want a good seat to get a really good view."

"Kristina!" Paul choked. "Tell me! What's going on?"

"You'll find out pretty fast," she said smiling, already turning to follow the other women, and the naked men, who were heading into the other room. "But I will tell you that you and I both will be so glad you agreed to let me take you to the waxing salon last week."

I am a bad, bad girl, Kristina thought when she said that to Paul. She was being bad, not letting him know as soon as Gloria had told her what the rest of the evening would be like.

Truth be told, everything Gloria had described sounded so incredibly arousing that she didn't want to risk missing any of it, especially the parts involving her handsome boyfriend.

This was driving her crazy to fuck him! She wanted more and more of it!

The other guys were interesting, and it was definitely arousing to see naked men so close. It was arousing to engage them in conversation, letting them see her gaze travel down to their naked cocks and back up to their eyes as she chatted with them. And she liked watching them from across the room, enjoying the sight of how they moved, watching the muscles in their legs and glutes flex as they walked.

Her gaze had returned throughout the evening to one guy, "Erick," who was bearded and muscular in a Thor-like way. His cock dangled large and fat between his thighs. She knew she would enjoy watching that fascinating male appendage engorge and stiffen. That would be super sexy!

But it was seeing Paul naked in front of this group of women that neither of them knew that was revving her libido into overdrive.

Knowing the women liked his naked body, would like to touch it, would love to run their hands over him, even fuck him, was so arousing. She knew the arousal was because he was hers and hers alone to touch, to taste, to enjoy, to love.

See my man! she thought, self-reflecting as she found a seat for the upcoming segment of the evening's events. I know you ladies would all love to be with him, but you can't. And he is such a good lover! You can look at my gorgeous, sexy man, but he's mine. Completely mine.

Seeing Kristina hurry away, Paul's mind hit overdrive with her last comment: Happy I was waxed recently!? Oh, my god! She can't mean-

The butterflies in his stomach returned in full force. That damned waxing had hurt like hell, but it came with the "package deal" he'd agreed to when Kristina talked him into attending this bizarre evening with her.

And it had taken a lot of convincing from Kristina to get him to the salon a week earlier. The fear of the pain was one thing, but another thing was a prejudice he'd long carried about men who got waxed: unless they were porn stars doing it because they had to, they must be exhibitionistic perverts who wanted to expose themselves in front of a female waxing technician.

He considered himself pretty open-minded, so he didn't like thinking this way. There probably are guys out there who do this and who aren't doing porn. Masochists, maybe? (It had to hurt, as he learned first-hand.) So he had to wonder what some waxing technician would think about him if he showed up on his own and asked for a complete manscape on his genitals.

When he finally relented, it was on the condition that Kristina — obviously his girlfriend and something he wanted to make sure the waxing technician understood ("She talked me into this!") — went with him.

The memory of what happened at that salon always made him wince: a young, pretty technician had him spread himself open so she could wax down between his asscheeks and then- Shit! That hurt! -she ripped away the cloth as Kristina watched from her seat a few feet away.

He'd exposed every inch of himself to a strange woman, and he didn't know which had been hurt worse: every square millimeter of skin where the hair had been jerked out, or his male pride at being in such a humiliating position — naked and exposing his asshole and every millimeter from the top of his asscrack down to the base of his balls for the close inspection of a young lady who seemed very much to enjoy her work as a waxing technician on that particular afternoon.

Kristina's comment about being happy he was recently waxed brought all the memories of that salon visit back to mind. It brought back all the feelings of exposure and helplessness as he had meekly followed the technician's instructions about lifting his balls so she could wax in a certain spot, or about spreading his ass for her.

She hadn't said it like that, of course; Paul couldn't even remember how she'd said it. But the action boiled down to one, simple thing: he had spread himself open to let the woman see his naked asshole. She had directed him to lift his balls so she could have better access to the stretch of skin between scrotum and anus, and he had done it. She had talked to him about his penis, about moving it this way or that, as she progressed through his waxing.

It didn't matter that it was her job. It didn't matter that she was board certified, licensed, great at her work, and an excellent technician. What mattered, and the thought that now rushed back to haunt him yet again, was that he had completely opened himself up to her gaze, shown her absolutely everything there was to see between his asscheeks and beneath his balls — to say nothing of showing her his naked cock.

And that was just one woman, with Kristina in the room.

Now there were many women in the room along with Kristina.

The only saving grace about that damned waxing was that Kristina absolutely could not keep her hands off every inch of his now-smooth butt, his now hairless balls, his now denuded crotch.

And she couldn't keep her tongue off him after his waxing, either. God! Her tongue running across his asshole — shit, did that feel nasty and sexy and crazy and strange and just the most intense sensation of taboo pleasure he'd ever had. Kristina had never done that to him before the waxing.

That damned waxing had hurt!

Kristina's tongue swirling across his asshole felt so incredible!

He was conflicted about all of it, with memories of the experience intruding constantly for the past week, and Kristina's comment a minute ago had triggered all the sensations of extreme embarrassment about his display at the waxing salon.

One of the guys was motioning him to come into the other room. Paul nearly sprinted over to the guy who also didn't have a stitch of clothing on except for the plain black mask he was wearing.

"Where are we headed? What's next?" Paul asked anxiously.

"This is maybe the hardest part of the evening for me," the guy answered. Paul learned later that the guy's fake name for the evening was "Rick." He must've been a swimmer or something — he was lean and didn't have any body hair — at least none on anything except his head based on Paul's quick glance.

(Paul had purposefully been avoiding glances at the other guys, wanting all assembled to know he only wanted to see women naked. Specifically, Kristina.)

"If it's like the other two of these parties I've been to, this is when the ladies take turns having a guy pose for them."

Paul's quizzical expression was hidden behind his mask. He quickly asked "Rick" for more explanation.

"Man, I am telling you. These ladies have no inhibitions about what they ask, and they are very inventive."

"Shit!" Paul said under his breath as they filed into the room — an extremely large den with dark, hand-scraped wood flooring and a dozen or so comfortable chairs arranged in a semi-circle near the center of the room. The placement of the chairs sent the unmistakable message that the vacant space in front of the semi-circle is where the "posing" would happen.

Rick looked at him for a moment before turning his eyes forward but leaning sideways toward Paul to whisper, "Oh, damn, brother. This must be your first time, right?"

Paul could only nod.

"I remember my first time," Rick whispered, as it was clear Gloria was about to make some kind of announcement as she stood to the side of the area in front of the chairs, now occupied by women, with more of the women standing behind the chairs. "I signed off on the rules then discovered it was the stuff that wasn't written down that would've made me have second and third and fourth thoughts about this."

"So why are you back?" Paul asked, not being able to figure out why in the world a guy would go through this twice.

"I make more doing this for one night than I make in a week at my job," Rick said. "As embarrassing as some of what I'm asked to do is, I get over it by the end of the night when Gloria pays us."