The Pleasures of Beth Ch. 8

Chapter 8: You can always rely on the BBC!

The very next weekend Beth and Martin were headed out of town to Vancouver for an industry trade show. They had been registered and had been looking forward to the event for months. Going to the gift show was a must for the business, but getting out of town was just as important to the couple for each year they had somehow arranged to find some tantalizing new sexual attractions. Both hoped that this year would be as good as ever.

The trip down the Peninsula was going to be pretty unique this time. For people who are accustomed to doing the hour and a half drive, it tended to be pretty boring. There was always a slow driver ahead holding up the traffic through the endless turns. Always one more motorhome. Never a passing zone to ease the load. In all respects, the drive was tedious. But this one would not be! Beth had decided that since Martin insisted on driving, she would find something productive to do. This was to be a surprise for Martin, and a test of sorts for herself.

As they prepared to drive off the ferry, almost at the front of the line this time, Beth asked Martin to pull over almost right away. Concerned that something was wrong, he did just that and anxiously looked over to see what was the matter. But Beth sat there leaned back in her seat with just a sliver of a smile on her face.

"What's going on?" asked Martin.

"Trust me," was the reply. Martin knew better than to question his wife when she was that determined. But the dozens of cars passing him were getting on his nerves as he looked forward to an even more unpleasant drive than usual.

Soon, no vehicles were left to pass them and Beth quietly said, "Okay. It's time to go."

"Finally. What the fuck is going on, Beth?"

Her answer was to reach deep into her big satchel and slowly pull out her favourite vibrator, softly encased in its velour pouch. Martin's eyes showed only confusion—no recognition. "Huh?" was the best he could manage.

Beth smiled her sexiest smile and told him, "I've always wondered how many orgasms I could have. This is the perfect time to find out."

"You are kidding! Out here? In traffic? Now?"

"There is no traffic, sweetie. And what better way to kill the time?"

She slid her seat back, tipped it as far as it would go and leaned back comfortably. Her hands reached down to pull up her dress. This she did slowly, very slowly, as Martin watched. He had found many ways to excite his wife, and she had always managed to match his originality. But this was a new one altogether. Beth slid her panties down her legs and playfully tossed them towards Martin telling him, "hold these, I won't be needing them."

She then pulled out a towel from the big bag and slipped it beneath herself. "All the better to catch my cum," she explained. Already, Martin was getting hard. He wondered how he could possibly drive as his wife masturbated beside him. Seeing the dilemma on his face, Beth offered her solution. "Do you want me to blow you before we take off?"

"Please," was all he could say.

It took only a couple of minutes of great lip, tongue and hand action and Martin was shooting his first load of the day into his wife's greedy mouth. But his cock barely softened; Beth had some difficulty making him put it back into his pants. He finally did so, but only after eliciting a promise to let him masturbate all the way home himself on the trip back.

Beth knew that she had many orgasms in her. The most she had ever experienced, though, was about a dozen. She had lost count somewhere in the middle, but there were many. She expected to be able to do at least that many on this trip. After all, wasn't that the goal?

As Martin pulled back onto the highway, Beth sank back into her seat. She was holding a recent issue of Penthouse Letters. She began reading about the exploits of other women, men, couples and some completely unexpected pairings.

At first, she softly stroked her pussy with her hand, occasionally dipping a finger into her slit. Her palm would ride firmly against her clit, but never so much that she could not control the results. She read about a maitre-d' who gave away the best tables for the best fellatio. The taste of her husband's sperm was still on her lips as she read.

The first orgasm took about ten minutes to build. It was a wonderful climax. Beth groaned, "that's one. You keep count!"

Martin drove on, but slowly, so that he could glance over to watch Beth as much as possible. Her fingers had given way to her favourite vibrator. This was thick, knobbly tool in bright purple silicone. The tip was curved slightly and the head enlarged to resemble a great cock. It looked a little bit like Martin's she had always thought.

Beth's cunt was thoroughly soaked in her juices now. Her hand was equally wet —she would bring it up to her mouth often— all the better to taste herself, she thought. Around the time of her first orgasm she had given up the magazine and was going back over her exploits during the past months since she had met Martin. There had been that great birthday party bondage scene. The pool party with all the girls had been perfect. Fucking Paul was also a great event, she thought. "And that bit at Hidden Lake! Wow! I have to replay that one again."

"What?" "Nothing!" moaned Beth as she came a second time. "That's two…" she trailed off. A couple of minutes passed. "That's three!"

"Four!"

"Five!"

These three had come one after the other with hardly a pause between them. Her recollections of the show she had provided for her friend, especially that bit with the cucumber, had propelled her into the ecstasy that she was feeling.

Martin continued to drive, looking over as often as he could. His cock was pushing hard against his zipper. With his cock restrained by his clothing and with both hands on the wheel, there was little he could do about his predicament. Besides, they were coming up on the ferry terminal to Vancouver.

"One more…"

"That's twenty-three," called Martin. The amazement in his voice was genuine. How could anyone live through that much sexual stimulation? That much pleasure?

Beth was not really finished but her arms were tired, and the batteries in the vibrator were clearly beyond their freshest. Her pussy was raw from the manipulation, the rubbing, the pounding of her rubber cock. But she wanted one more.

"Just one more and I will be happy," she told Martin.

"You are the most amazing woman I have ever imagined, Beth. Much less known!"

"Tell me a story. Voice-fuck me, Martin."

His story was brief and involved her favourite fantasy. She had met a BBC and he was fucking her in his hot tub. They always referred to this mystery fuck as a BBC —big black cock.

The story lasted but a few minutes and Beth cried out in one long, final, exhausted orgasm. "Yesssssssss!"

"That's two dozen! I love you, Beth."

Once in town, Martin and Beth checked into their hotel. Beth fell onto the bed, exhausted from her orgasmic exertions. Martin left her there to rest as he went down to register the two of them for the conference and a few of the workshops.

By the next morning, Beth had recovered and was raring to go. This was her best trip to the city each year and where she did most of her buying for the coming season. Martin was equally happy to be taking part as there were always so many beautiful women at these shows that he always came away with another little exploit to recount. The two of them went off to different workshops so that they could make the most of their time.

The first presentation Beth attended was not as interesting as she had hoped. She spent most of the time eyeing her fellow participants. There were at least fifty people in the room, most looking just as bored as she was. One particular man caught her eye, most because he was almost a head taller than the people around him. He looked fit and strong, as if he had been an athlete not so long ago. His head was shaved completely and there was a light sheen coming off the skin. That he was a rich, smooth, chocolaty black as well only served to ignite Beth's fantasy once more. Maybe it would finally be her chance at a BBC!

As the meeting wrapped up, Beth looked around for her BBC, but he was nowhere to be found. He had left the moment the doors had opened without pausing to schmooze the crowd at all. She had missed her chance. The next two sessions were more productive but there was no sight of her BBC.

After the morning sessions there was the buying and display portion of the trade show in the main presentation hall. Here, hundreds of presenters offered thousands of products and gift ideas. They ranged from the mundane, to the cute and cuddly, to the downright erotic. Though her shop did not sell such products, Beth spent an inordinate amount of time on that part of the floor. She did, of course, find those things she needed for the store. Martin was particularly helpful in that area as he was an excellent negotiator. Between Beth's exceptional eye for a good seller and Martin's bargaining skills, they put together another great package for the next season in just a few hours.

Naturally, Beth had mentioned her BBC to Martin and had asked him to help her keep an eye out for the man during the day. But nothing came of it and that night the two went back to their hotel alone but happy after a successful day.

Breakfast the next morning was a whole other story. As Beth and Martin were finishing up their meal, who should walk into the restaurant but Beth's BBC. A quick kick to Martin's shin and a whispered, "there he is!" told Martin all he needed to know.

The man was beautiful. He looked to be about 30 years old and stood six feet tall —maybe a bit more. His skin was smooth and looked soft and touchable. It was the colour of fine chocolate. Not too dark but definitely chocolate. His build was that of a track and field athlete. He had powerful arms, large hands. His shirt, opened at the collar, showed off a chest rippled with muscle. The fabric was pulled snugly against the bulk of his arms. He wore dressy slacks but the cloth hugged a terrific pair of buttocks, at once powerful and sensual.

Beth openly stared at him as he made his way to an empty table not far from them. He sat down directly facing her. Their eyes met briefly and he smiled. Beth felt her heart fluttering with the possibilities. Her legs clenched together as she explored her fantasy once again. "I must have that man," she whispered to Martin.

"I know. Let's see what happens."

Martin then went off to the washroom as Beth continued to look to her BBC. That was how she thought of him, 'her BBC.' Occasionally, he would look up to see her staring and would smile gently. Each time, though, he went back to his breakfast and his newspaper. It was as if he knew what was going on and was determined to make her earn it. She knew she could.

Before Martin could return, Beth got up and took the bill up to the cashier to pay. She had to pass BBC's table to get to the till. As she walked past him, she slowed and glanced down towards him.

"Hello. I'm Beth," was all she said.

"My name is Leonard," he replied.

"Maybe I will see you around today," she offered.

"That would be nice."

Clearly, to her at least, they were on the same wavelength. With that, Beth continued towards the till, paid her bill and met Martin in the lobby outside the restaurant. It was not until she got out the doors that she realized how weak her knees were. Her heart was pounding, her pussy was already wet.

"I need a fuck —now!"

A few minutes later, Martin and his wife were on their way back down from their room towards the conference hall. Beth had already come three times that day. Once before breakfast, once in the elevator as they went up —Martin masturbated her beneath her skirt as he pressed up against her— and once more when he fucked her in their room. This was going to be one great day!

The convention went smoothly for the second day. The show had more booths to visit and despite all her efforts, Beth never once saw Leonard again all day. Her disappointment was genuine for she had really believed that this would be the time. Leonard had embodied every bit of her fantasy black lover. From his shiny black head to his strong chest and probably right to his big cock. She had never really believed that bit about big hands meaning a large penis, but this might have been her chance to prove it. Couldn't it?

Martin, trying to bring her spirits up, offered Beth a special night out. First it would be dinner at her favourite restaurant, then drinks at this great bar they both enjoyed and finally, a late night floor show at the newest adult club in the city, "Pandora's Box." He had heard from his contacts in the city that the men and women who stripped there were most gorgeous and that sometimes the acts even went all the way. He knew this would brighten her night; at least he hoped so. Dinner was nice. Drinks were great. But the night really got interesting once they got to the strip club. The cover charge was $50 each and there was a two-drink minimum, at $10 each for beer. Martin paid anyway and they went right in. All the tables were front-row as the stage was large and circular. Already there was an older redhead dancing to the music. She was as good a dancer as she was attractive. Her body moved luxuriously to the rhythms of the jazz. Despite being at least forty, this woman had an incredible body. Her curves were ample, her breasts large without appearing to droop and that ass! Ouch!

"This was definitely a good decision for tonight," said Beth. Martin replied by slipping his hand onto her lap and softly running a finger along the line of her cunt.

The next dancer was a young man of no more than twenty. He was slim but muscular, rather like a gymnast. His dancing was not quite as skilful as the woman before him, but he was good.

"I can see why they charge so much to get in here. These guys are really good."

Martin and Beth both stared at the young man as he danced. His music was some ambiguous contemporary rap but his body was nicely in tune with the beat. After a few opening songs, the clothes started to come off. He had soon stripped down to a very close-fitting pair of bicycle shorts. Made of some thin latex, they hugged his body perfectly. What was drawing the rapt attention of everyone in the crowd, though, was the immense bulge that began at his crotch and seemed to reach most of the way down his thigh towards his left knee.

"No way that's real," exclaimed Beth.

"No way!" agreed Martin. "But what if it is?!"

"Oh, my," agreed Beth in turn.

Almost as if the young man was listening to them, he came right up to their table and squatted in an impossible position and mouthed the words to Martin, "do you like it?"

Unaware that he had done it, Martin replied by nodding his head.

That was enough to encourage the young man to slip his hand down the outside of his thigh to start to unzip the elasticized fabric. Sensuously, he pulled the zip up his leg towards the waist of the shorts. Upon reaching the waist, he then repeated the motion with the zip on the other leg. Now there was a loose mass of latex hanging between his legs from. Only the elastic waist held the fabric in place. With one hand on each hip, the dancer smoothly slid the shorts down his legs, releasing the object of the whole room's desire.

There, not five feet in front of Beth and Martin, hung the longest cock either had ever seen. It had not been stuffing. The penis before them hung straight down between the man's legs. The shaft was quite slim making the cock appear so much longer. The head reached to a spot just above the dancer's knee. The whole room had gone silent as the young man gyrated his hips to the music. His cock played and danced to the rhythm, but it was obviously getting hard because there was less swing to it each passing minute.

Beth looked towards the stage longingly. Martin did, too.

"Please let me touch it," implored Beth directly to the young man.

His response was to dance closer, but not quite close enough. "We can't do that, ma'am," he said, apologetically.

Beth reached a hand out in any case. The dancer took one step forward and with a twist of his hips, and a graceful turn, dropped his cock right into her palm. Before she could do more than give it a squeeze, he pulled away and moved to the other side of the stage.

"It's real!" declared Beth to Martin.

"Lucky woman," called out a man from the next table. "Wish I could have been you."

"Me too," added Martin.

As the music began to tail off, another dancer, this one a petite brunette with very small, pert breasts came out. She walked right to the young man, reached down between his legs and grasped his immense cock. With a tight grip on his rope, she towed him back towards the curtains. The crowd went wild when they saw this. Cheers, whistles and endless applause followed the two off the stage. The cries of "encore" were answered, but only briefly as the young dancer's cock swung out from behind the curtain only to be retrieved by a woman's hand once more.

"This is a great club," Martin opined. "We sure made the right decision, didn't we?"

The next act was two women, both dressed in identical french maid outfits. The stockings, garters and bustiers were of obvious quality, as was the flesh they encased. In the slightly darkened room, it took a moment to realize that not only were the outfits identical, so were the dancers. It was a twin act! This one was a fantasy of Martin's —he was about to enjoy himself.

The sisters made the usual moves around the stage. Their skill was a notch above the two previous acts and it became clear that they might be the headliners. They were that good. Their dancing became increasingly sexual. Each girl would strip off a piece of clothing from her sister, who would then respond in kind. The chocolate syrup and the whipped cream came out quite early on, and both girls took liberal amounts of each to coat the other.

Next came the bananas. But these were particularly unripe. Bright green, they were obviously not edible. This soon was clear as one sister sat back on a small chair and spread her legs wide, capturing the other. The second sister slid her hands up the other's thigh. She massaged some of the chocolate and cream on the creamy flesh under her palms.

Then it was time for the banana. The sister on the chair slowly peeled one of the bananas and gracefully presented it to her sister seated on the floor between her legs. In a flash, the rigid banana disappeared into the first woman's cunt. It was gone.

Seated, the first girl writhed her hips in front of the other. Soon, the banana began to reappear between her cunt lips. First, an inch or so. Then a bit more, and finally enough for the second sister to grasp it gingerly in her teeth. Doing this, she pulled the rest of the fruit out of her sister's vagina. She sucked most of the fruit into her throat and keeping it in her mouth, she walked across the stage to a spot not far from where Beth and Martin sat. There, she passed the banana to another patron of the club.

"It's Leonard!!" exclaimed Beth. "It's Leonard!"

Indeed, it was. And he was taking the fruit dildo from the dancer's mouth, just as she was offering it to him.

By now, the two sisters were heavily into a sixty-nine position and they were really going at it. All this was lost on Beth as she stared across the room towards her BBC. Her Leonard. Without a second thought, she leaned over to Martin and before she could ask, he said, "Go for it! I will see you in the morning."

Beth made her way across the room to where Leonard was sitting. He was at a table with two other men, but they had not come together. The story, it turned out, was much the same for Leonard as it had been for Beth. All day he had wandered the show floor in hopes of finding her, but with no luck at all. He explained that their brief exchange at breakfast had been one of the most erotic moments he could recall. Apparently, he had a fantasy of his own about a large-bosomed white woman. It had been obvious to him that Beth was extremely sexual, "probably something to do with pheromones or something," he quipped.