tagLoving WivesThe Game of Three Commands

The Game of Three Commands

bysharedare©

Two weeks before Christmas last, hubby and I hosted our annual holiday party, as we have done for the past dozen years or so. Little did I know when our guests began arriving that this night would be unlike any other holiday bash to date.

As a couple, hubby and I don't have hordes of "close" friends. We have always seemed to maintain a close connection with about a dozen people with whom we are really tight. By tight, I mean that we are commonly in each other's company, take vacations together, etc. It was to this group of close friends that we extended our usual invitation for cocktails, gifting, and merriment, as part of our holiday tradition.

By 8pm that night, everybody who was expected had arrived. The party included three other couples, and two singles (both men from my office). The featured beverage for the evening was marguerites, which seemed to please everyone, as the blender was going constantly all night. As is usually the case, the earlier part of the evening was spent chatting with one another, and generally enjoying being in the company of friends. Also as usual as the evening wore on, the tequila started having its anticipated affect, with chatting becoming a little more loud and animated, supplemented by a smattering of adult humor and flirting.

A couple of hours into the party, hubby broke out an adult "drinking" game that had been gifted to us some time back. The game still had the wrapper on, so we all had great fun going through the rules together. Not that it was a complicated game. Using dice, players move around the board, alternately either downing a shot, or responding to an intimate or embarrassing question posed by a deck of question cards. If a player doesn't want to answer a question, they merely slam down a shot.

Since we had been drinking marguerites, shots of tequila seemed the obvious choice. So with a bottle of Cuervo Gold on the table, and a single shot glass on the game board, we started to play. After concluding the first game, everybody was really starting to feel the alcohol. Even so, we decided to play another round.

Some of the questions in this game were pretty silly, while others caused everyone to pause to hear the player's response. Mostly, the game was a source of great laughter, especially when players started drawing cards and making up their own questions. That's when things started to get interesting.

Marcia, our 43 year-old next-door neighbor took her turn rolling the dice. She landed on a "question" space, and it was my turn to draw the card and ask her the question. As I recall, the question was something really stupid, like "when was the last time you dyed your hair," or something like that. Instead, I blurted out, "Ok, it says here you have to show everyone your tits!" This was met with roars of laughter, and everyone urging her to get her boobies out. With a mixed response of embarrassment and laughter, Marcia relented and grabbed the bottom of her blouse and lifted it up grabbing the base of her bra as her fingers swept by. In a moment, her beautiful 38D titties were held out for all to see. A mother of three, she still has a pretty hot little body. With light brown hair, and blue eyes, she couldn't be taller than about 5'8". Although her body is somewhat stocky, she has a definite "hourglass" to her figure. As much as the fellows enjoyed gazing at her melon-sized breasts, I couldn't help but think that they really wanted to see her magnificent thunder-thighs given a choice. In any case Marcia's antics brought roars of praise and laughter from everyone.

Once this started, all the women ended up being given the same "task" to accomplish. Unfortunately, the game concluded before we managed to make it through all the players. I could tell that both Marcia, Anne, and Julie, my fellow female party-mates, were disappointed not to demand to see all the "swords" in the crowd, especially those belonging to Aaron and Tony, the two guys from my office.

Aaron and Tony, in late 20's, are both younger than the rest of us - the rest of us ranging in age from 42 to about 52. Not only younger, both the guys are fit and better-than-average attractive. It was apparent that the other three women seemed to enjoy checking the guys out as much as I did.

With the ladies lamenting about the game ending too soon, Marcia's husband Greg said he had an idea. "I think the girls should play a game I call Three Commands." He said. "Each of the girls roll the dice three times, adding up their individual scores. The girl with the highest score gets to give the girl with the lowest score three commands - which she must agree to obey."

The men were quick to voice their support for Greg's idea, while the women-folk pondered how things might turn out. Marcia was the first of us to throw support for playing the game, indicating that she and Greg had played the game at other parties. After some more cajoling, the rest of us agreed to play. By the way, we were drunk enough at this point, nothing much seemed to matter anyway.

I rolled first, garnering a total score of 12, with Anne and Marcia scoring 14, and 15 respectively. So it was down to Julie who, after two rolls, had a total score of only 7. After blowing on her dice, she tossed out a six, giving her a total of 13, making me the low scorer, and giving Marcia the top numbers. All this was met with roars of laughter and kidding.

After all of us downed yet another shot in a toast, Marcia gave me her first command. "I command that you be blindfolded!" She said with a laugh. Hubby quickly piped up and asked if a sleeping mask would suffice, to which Marcia nodded her approval. Hubby returned in a moment with the red satin sleeping mask I use for napping during the day. He tossed the mask to Marcia, who promptly pulled it over my eyes.

Using a silly deep voice, as though pretending she was the Wizard of Oz, Marcia gave her second of three commands. "I command you to let Tony and Aaron strip you naked!"

Marcia's statement caused me to step back, as I never expected anything like that to come from her. Hubby yes, but Marcia? I think the rest of the group was taken aback as well, as they all had that nervous laughter-thing going on. "Works for me." I heard hubby shout, as the laughter changed to cheers.

As any of you who have read my other stories knows, I am not an exceptionally shy person, and certainly not afraid to be naked in front of people. That said, nobody in this group had been exposed to any of those antics before. I was especially nervous about being exposed to Tony and Aaron, as I have to work with these guys. What were they going to tell people at work? I thought to myself.

However, with a tequila-driven heater going on, and the erotic excitement of knowing that I was about to be stripped naked and exposed to a group of people, I resolved not to spoil everyone's fun. Besides, I knew hubby would be eating all this up. He loves nothing better than to come up with ways of exposing me in public anyway. As a matter of fact, I would not have been surprised to find out he had orchestrated this entire evening just for this purpose. Like my fellow female party-goers, I am a mid 40's aged wife and mother. I have red hair, and a like-colored red bushy mound for a pussy. With my slightly-sloppy ass, and my perky 36C titties, I usually feel good about how I look. Tonight was no exception. I felt confident that the other guys would be sporting stiffies once they got a look at "the goods".

"Go on guys, do your duty!" I heard Marcia demand. In just a moment, I felt one of the guys standing in front of me, tugging at the buttons on my blouse. I was wearing a rather tight-fitting stretchy black blouse, with a knee-length black skirt. Thankfully, I wasn't wearing hose, but I was wearing a pretty lacy thong – much better, I thought, than regular cotton panties. Who'd have thought I would be put on display tonight, I thought to myself.

As I felt my last button coming undone, the guy behind me – I think it was Aaron – slowly opened my blouse up, exposing my Victoria Secret Wonder Bra-covered titties. Everybody applauded, then quickly demanded the strip continue. Aaron slowly slipped my blouse down my arms and off my body, obviously making a show of the effort. With the blouse disposed of, I could feel Tony (?) tugging at the zipper on my skirt. This done, I could feel each of the guys step to my sides, and begin shinnying the skirt over my hips – first one side, then the next, obviously again making a show of it.

As the skirt was slowly pulled down, the group clapped and cheered, tossing some wolf-whistles in for good measure. I could feel my own excitement swell inside me as well. I could feel my nipples already beginning to stiffen, and the juices in my pussy were beginning to stir. With the skirt now down around my ankles, I placed my hands on each of the guy's heads, in order to balance myself as I stepped out of my skirt. There I stood, clad only in bra and panties, but blind to what the others were doing.

"Off with her bra!" I heard Anne's husband Nick shout, sending a shiver up my spine. I have to admit though, that I was getting pretty damned excited about all this. Even as Nick said this, one of the guys was behind me tugging at the clasp on my bra. As he released the bra, I could feel it slide forward a little. Once again, the guys stood at my sides, each taking a hold of a bra strap on my shoulder, and teasing the group by slowly pulling the straps down my shoulder. I could feel them both stop, leaving the bra cups poised precariously just above my nipples. Again, the group clapped, and urged the guys on. Off came my bra, to the shouts and applause of my fellow partiers. Standing there naked, but for my lacy little thong, I could feel that my nipples were as stiff as nails.

"Off with her panties!" Yelled Julie's husband Scott. I could sense that everybody was really getting in to this, and that nobody seemed offended or perturbed. That made me feel a bit more relaxed about what was happening, and especially about what was going to happen next.

With the guys standing alongside me again, I could feel them begin pulling on my panties. As with the skirt, they tugged the right side first, then the left, as they shimmied the panties over my hips. I should mention that, while I keep my pussy hair trimmed along the edges, I am proud of my bushy red pubes, preferring to leave the bulk of my hair full and thick - and that was the sight that Aaron and Tony exposed to our little group of friends that night.

Now completely naked, except for my shoes, the only thing I regretted was that I couldn't actually see the facial reactions to my exposed body. But given the roars of approval, from both the men and the women, I knew that I was pleasing the crowd. As the applause waned, I held my breath in anticipation of what Marcia's last command would be. Many thoughts raced through my mind, but none matched what she finally blurted out.

"My third and final command is for you to be bound spread-eagle on the dining room table!" Marcia shouted. "Men, do your duty."

I was shocked! What did Marcia have in mind? I was thinking that she was going to have me dance, maybe even give the guys a lap-dance. But tied spread-eagle on the table?

Suddenly, I felt at least a dozen hands grabbing my arms, legs, and hips, as I was hoisted into the air. It was a strange feeling to be suspended naked in the air, but stimulating nonetheless. I heard hubby telling everyone he had a bunch of neckties to use as "the implements of my bondage."

Just as quickly as I had been lifted into the air, I was placed face-up on the cold surface of the dining room table. My hands were swiftly drawn up over my head, and my wrists were bound together. I could feel another tie being secured to my wrist bonds, then pulled down under the table somewhere. While this was happening, I could feel people slipping ties over my ankles, and pulling my legs apart so my feet were actually over the edge of the table.

I cannot express the sensation of being blindfolded and bound spread eagle while in the party of a group of people. I suppose I should have been more panicked, but instead, my sense of erotic excitement and anticipation grew more and more each moment.

Suddenly, it was as though everyone had left the room. I strained to hear the whispers of my captors, but I couldn't distinguish what was being said. In a moment though, I could feel the presence of people standing around me. As though on a pre-arranged signals, my body was all-at-once covered by gentle hands, rubbing and massaging every part of my body. The sensation was overwhelming. Fingers were pulling at my nipples, hands were sliding up and down my upper and lower legs, and at least two people were focusing all their energy on massaging my feet.

Lying on that table in total ecstasy, I was beginning to think it couldn't get any better. That was until someone started toying with my pussy. At first, the person gently slid their finger along the edge of my labia, before finding my clitoris and slowly massaging the little button in circular motions. Before long, I could feel fingers beginning to probe my already saturated pussy, sliding their fingers deeper and deeper with each new surge.

I was already at the point of exploding, and this new attention to my pussy was all it took. I could feel the pressure welling up inside me, and I knew what was coming. My body finally relented, straining against the bindings that held my legs apart, as a river of juices flowed from below. Try though I might, I couldn't restrain the animal-like groans that came with my orgasm.

Whoever was probing my pussy had now picked up the intensity of each stroke, and number of fingers making their way inside me had grown to three or four. I quickly forgot my last climax, and began heading for what I felt would be an even greater orgasm. I could feel my hips rising to meet each downward probe of fingers. Hardly without missing a beat, I felt something new entering the lips of my pussy. It was cool and cylindrical, but it didn't feel like a dildo? I had no idea what it was, but it felt bigger and better than the fingers, so I quickly stopped worrying about it.

Deeper and deeper the object plunged, working in and out of me in ever-increasing fashion, as it drove me closer to climax. Suddenly I could feel my body reach its breaking point, and once again I let out a howl, as my body tugged at the restraints and exploded in ecstasy and orgasm. The object in my pussy was held deep inside me, as many hands continued to massage my entire body.

I felt as though this last climax lasted for ten minutes or more, before my body finally slumped in exhaustion. Although the object still remained inside me, the hands quickly disappeared. Again, I felt as though everyone had left the room. I didn't even hear whispers as I lay there, legs spread, with the juices from my pussy dripping teasingly over my anus, before trickling onto the table.

It seemed to be almost half an hour before I realized someone was back in the room. First, I felt the object removed from my pussy. Then I felt the bonds on my ankles being released. Finally, my wrists were untied, and I was able to reach up and pull down the mask covering my eyes. There in the room was hubby, grinning from ear to ear, and helping me to stand up next to the table. My fellow partiers had thought it best to call it a night, leaving hubby to help me return to the real world.

We didn't speak a single word to each other after he released my bonds. Instead, as I stood up, I promptly sat back down on the floor next to the table, dragging hubby to the floor with me. There under the table, I demanded hubby make love to me, which he happily did with great passion.

We finally went to bed that night, thinking that we had concluded a fantastic fantasy-world party. Little did I know what would greet me the next morning when I went to check my email. From a correspondent previously unknown to me, I received an email message with a single photo attachment....a picture of me bound to the table, blindfolded, and sporting a large cucumber in my pussy, which was spread wide for all to see. Hubby said he had no idea who the phantom emailer was, but that everybody had been snapping photos of me after Marcia had placed the blindfold over my eyes that night.

Over the next few days, I received more photos of that night from the same phantom correspondent. Knowing that someone has any number of extremely explicit photographs of me leaves me wondering each day, just where the next photo may surface. Although a bit scary, it has actually extended what has been one of the most erotic moments in my life. I can't wait to play "Three Commands" again.

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