3 comments/ 186833 views/ 38 favorites My Wife at the Bachelor Party By: Calvin427 I've had it with community college teaching and I'm packing it in at the end of the contract year. Anyone who's ever taught in one of these places knows why. After talking things over with Nancy, I've decided to go on for my Ph.D. Maybe it will allow me to get a real college teaching job. We've been able to put away a little money over the past two years, and a fellowship is likely, so it's just a question now of what program to enter. One school I'm considering is the University of Oregon, so a couple of weeks ago I canceled my Thursday and Friday classes and we flew to Eugene to chat with people in the history department, check out housing, transportation options, and so forth. We also left some time to play a sex game to satisfy Nancy's sexual adventures (exhibitionism and sexual contact short of actual intercourse or fellatio) and my love of watching her in action. On the plane, we went over some ideas for a sex game, but we came up with nothing definite since we knew so little about Eugene. First, for those readers new to my little reports, let me describe Nancy. She turned 26 in August but looks much younger because she has a youthful, very pretty face and a petite figure – 5'4" and less than 110 pounds. Many people assume she's a teenager. She recently got a haircut, so her blonde hair is now rather short (I like it longer and hope she'll let it grow out). Best of all, she has a wonderful figure. Her breasts are high, firm, and not very large. Her nipples are light pink and I, and other men, love to watch them in varying degrees of erectness under a tight sweater or thin blouse. She almost never wears a bra. I'm especially fond of her ass, which is absolutely gorgeous. It's the sort of ass you just want to spread with your hands and bury your face in. Finally, Nancy has a beautiful, tight-lipped cunt surrounded by wispy brownish-blonde cunt hair that she trims just enough to contain within a skimpy bikini bottom. I, and several other men I've watched perform cunnilingus on her, will attest that her cunt tastes wonderful. Anyway, we arrived in Eugene Thursday afternoon and rented a car at the airport. We drove around the area for a while (very nice) and found a pretty good motel near the campus. We settled in at the motel, went out for a not-very-good dinner, and returned to the room for a while. At about 9:00 o'clock, after watching TV and snoozing for a while – the flight had been a little wearing since we'd had several long airport layovers – we got ready to go out. Nancy put on a short black skirt and a tight, rather thin, yellow sweater with a crew neck. I knew the sweater would be a real attention-getter since it revealed every curve and bounce of her pretty but not large breasts. Naturally, she wasn't wearing a bra. Her nipples showed quite prominently, and the outline of her pink areolas could be seen well or poorly depending on the light she was in. Her skirt was flared, pleated, and came to her upper thighs, which were deliciously bare. Beneath the skirt she'd put on a pair of her sheerest white panties. On her feet, Nancy wore plain brown leather shoes. As we left the motel room, we each put on light-weight jackets. At a little past 10:00 o'clock, after driving around for a while, we located a bar near the university that seemed pretty busy and loud for a Thursday night. I parked just around the corner from it and had Nancy wait a few minutes before coming in so I could establish myself in the bar as an unattached man (we'd agreed on this earlier). As I took a seat at the crowded bar, my first thought was that I hoped not many of the students had Friday morning classes. The beer and booze were flowing pretty freely. Most of the customers were young men, but there were a few girls, too. Some were definitely cute, but most were on the chunky side. The best looking of them seemed to be with their boyfriends. And every last one of them was wearing pants, jeans mostly. So when Nancy entered the bar ten minutes after I did, her bare legs alone were enough to attract male attention, though her total package (the blue eyes, the short blonde hair) assured that this attention was pretty intense. About fifteen sets of eyes fixed on her instantly. Standing just inside the entrance, she removed her jacket and laid it over her arm. She then walked down the bar without acknowledging me, as though looking for something or someone. Most of the guys at the bar noticed, with quick little sidelong glances, the way my wife's pretty little tits bounced in her tight sweater as she walked, but no one tried speaking to her. It was obviously assumed that she was there to meet some lucky bastard. Looking a little lost, Nancy found an empty table near the rear of the room and sat down. I think it was the only unoccupied table in the place. I watched several guys who had noticed her (not everyone had yet) shift their positions slightly to see whom it was she was there to meet. It was still inconceivable to them, I suspect, that anyone looking this good could be there alone. She sat facing the bar, and I and the others sitting there got a tantalizing though brief glimpse of her bare upper thighs as she spread her legs slightly to lay her coat over one of the chairs. There was no bar maid, but the bartender (a young out-of-shape guy) interrupted what he was doing to walk around the far end of the bar and over to her table. She ordered something and he went back behind the bar to get it for her. It was a glass of some kind of white wine. To spare him another trip to her table, Nancy stood up and, wallet in hand, walked to the bar to pay. I noticed that she went to the most crowded part of the bar, where a group of jock-types were standing rather than sitting down, to pick up her drink. She put a hand on a very large guy's back to let him know she was behind him (he hadn't noticed her before, I guess) and I heard him say, rather drunkenly, "Well, hello!" He then muscled the guy he'd been talking to a few inches away from him to make way for her at the bar. I couldn't be sure from where I was sitting, but I think she brushed her tits against the big guy's arm as she turned sideways and wedged her way in between the knot of guys. I noticed that the guy who had been shoved away took a step back from the bar to leer appreciatively at my wife's body, especially her ass and legs. Another guy who had been standing nearby came closer to get a better look, too. I lost sight of her briefly as she was temporarily hemmed in. The bartender started to slide the glass of wine across the bar to her, but he hesitated. I heard him ask her, rather apologetically, for identification. I couldn't blame him. The way she looked, she easily could've been a teenager. She opened her wallet and showed him her driver's license. She was about to pay him when the large guy said, "I'll get this," and pushed some money toward the bartender. Nancy thanked him, picked up her drink, and I again lost sight of her as she pushed her way back through the guys to get back to her table. They didn't given her much space to pass, I noticed, and I think there was quite a lot of light, apparently innocent, body contact. When she got back to her table, about ten feet from the jocks at the bar, she sat down demurely to sip her wine. After watching her so obviously alone there for several minutes, the big guy who'd paid for her drink picked up his glass of beer and walked over to her table. Towering over her, he asked her if he could join her. She smiled and indicated with a gesture that this was fine with her. Meanwhile, and gratuitously, I noticed that a table right next to hers had opened up, so I took the opportunity to pick up my drink and move over to it. As I sat down, a couple of chubby girls swooped in to pick up two unoccupied chairs from my table and move them to where they were sitting with friends. I soon discovered that, sitting so close to my wife and her large companion (he must have been about six-foot-four and somewhere around 230 pounds), it wasn't hard to hear what they were saying. The noisiness around them forced them to speak fairly loudly. He introduced himself as Paul and he said he'd gone to the university but was sitting out a year to work construction. She gave her real name. He'd probably seen it when she'd shown her I.D. at the bar, so there was no point in giving an alias. She lied to him about being an elementary school teacher in town for a conference. She said she'd gotten separated from the group of teachers she'd been out partying with. She hoped they'd find her soon because she was getting tired and needed a ride back to her motel. Paul said, "No problem." By that, I assumed he meant he could drive her to her (well, our) motel. His back was to me so I couldn't judge how drunk he was. If he was really drunk, I wasn't about to let him drive her anywhere. We had a rule about that. They talked for a while longer. Paul was pumping her for information about herself and Nancy laid out her consistent but untrue story for him. Yes, she was married, but it was relief to get away by herself. Yes, she was a school teacher (she lied), but she hoped one day to get into something a little more exciting. She complained about her life being altogether too dull. He commented on how beautiful she was and asked if she'd ever done any acting or modeling. The perfect opening! Well, yes, she said, she had modeled, but it wasn't the kind she was proud of and it was something her principal would certainly never hear about. All this was turning Paul on, of course. It was meant to. He bought her a second glass of wine and tried to get more out of her. But all she would say was how awkward it was to be separated from her conference mates and how she really needed to get to her motel. He asked her if she'd like him to drive her to the motel and she looked at him dubiously. "To be honest, Paul, I'm not sure you're in shape to drive," she said. "I wouldn't want you getting a DUI on my account. Maybe one of your friends has had less to drink and could drive me. You could ride along as a chaperone." He started to object but changed his mind, I guess. He stood up and walked (a little unsteadily) over to his friends at the bar. He grabbed one of them by the arm, a much shorter though well-muscled guy, and pulled him over to Nancy's table. "Will Frank do?" he asked. "He's only been here an hour or so and he's sober as Jesus." Nancy sized up Frank and said, with a laugh, that she thought he'd do fine. He looked OK to me, too. He had a shock of red hair and seemed a little nerdy to be hanging out with jock-types. Paul sat back down with my wife and Frank joined them. That's when Nancy pulled an interesting stunt. I watched her raise her nearly full glass of wine up to her mouth then pretend to lose control of it. The contents of the glass went all over the front of her sweater and the glass itself fell to the wooden floor and shattered. She gave a little squeal and said, "Oh, shit!" Naturally, every eye in the bar was on her as she stood up and pushed her chair back. At first she stood stiffly, as though in shock. Then, looking utterly dismayed, she brushed her hands over the front of her sweater, especially over her pretty breasts, where most of the wine had ended up. This motion had the delightful (and not at all unintentional) effect of calling attention to how erect her nipples had become as they bobbed and jiggled beneath her hands. Nancy then began brushing her hands up and down her bare thighs, where some of the wine had fallen, and increased the enjoyment of her audience by "accidentally" flipping up the front of her short skirt to reveal, briefly, the crotch of her sheer white panties. Paul and Frank, sitting so close to her and with their eyes at crotch level, got especially good looks. From where I was sitting, just behind them, I could just make out my wife's brownish-blonde cunt hair through the thin material. The bartender came running around the end of the bar with a rag. He handed it to Nancy, who spent another thirty seconds or so daubing and rubbing her sweater with it. Every male eye in the place observed the effect this daubing and rubbing was having on her breasts. Finally, Nancy said, "This isn't doing any good. I've got to get out of this." Some guy sitting near me said, approvingly, "Yeah!" Maybe he thought she might remove the sweater right there. Instead, she picked up her light jacket, which had her wallet in it, and headed for the women's room. As she walked away from her table, Paul said, "I'll get you another glass of wine, OK?" Nancy thanked him over her shoulder. She was gone for almost five minutes during which time one of the guys Paul had been drinking with at the bar joined Frank and him at my wife's table. I pretended to ignore what they were saying, but it was a real turn-on listening to them talk about her. The newcomer to the table said he loved the way Nancy's tits looked without a bra. He said he'd love to get his hands on them. "And did you notice those great legs of hers?" asked Frank. "When she was rubbing that wine off her thighs, she showed them to us all the way up to her panties." Paul confirmed this and said she looked like she had a really sweet pussy. He said he'd love to get his tongue in it later before he gave her "the fucking of her life." He went on to say that she was married but had complained to him about having a dull life. He was pretty sure she was up for a little excitement. When Nancy returned to the table, wearing her light gray jacket (which fit her very loosely and which she'd left unsnapped down to her breasts) and carrying her soaked sweater, she sat down with one more male companion than she'd had previously. The new guy, whose name I never learned, was sitting to her left side and was almost immediately treated to a view of my wife's naked right breast when her jacket gaped open as she leaned forward to pick up the fresh glass of wine Paul had bought for her. Even from where I sat at the next table I could see quite a bit of her breasts, so I knew his view was an especially good one. I discreetly moved back to the bar then and ordered another drink for myself. I didn't want my looking-on to be too obvious. I couldn't hear all that was being said anymore, but, thanks to the customers thinning out a little and the noise level falling significantly, I could still hear enough to tell what was going on. Mainly, looking on from the bar, I was enjoying the way the three guys at my wife's table were trying to get better looks at her breasts, which came partially or fully into view as she moved her body this way and that. As for their conversation, after a few minutes of talking about Eugene (they said it was a great place, with lots of excitement), they (especially Paul) began getting her to say more about her work as a model, the work she said she didn't want her principal to know about. Pretending to be tipsy and talking a little too loud, my wife "revealed" things to them, over the next thirty minutes or so, that she knew would raise their interest even further. I heard her mention posing nude in a video and working with a male model (something that happened to be true). "Yes, with a guy," I heard her say in answer to some question. Then I saw her shaking her head vehemently and saying, "No, I never went that far. I just do that with my boring old husband." Then I heard her say, in response to some question, "Yes, I've done that at parties. I made good money doing that." Finally, I heard her ask, "You mean there's no one in Eugene?" and "Getting naked sure beats working as a waitress." What she was giving them about working nude at parties was bullshit, of course, but it was plausible bullshit. During the next twenty minutes or so, the guys at my wife's table were obviously trying to talk her into helping them do something "for a buddy" at some other bar. He was getting married soon and they wanted a surprise for him. Would she mind? She appeared reluctant, then said maybe it might be fun, but she hadn't done anything like this since she'd gotten married. If he knew, her husband wouldn't ever allow such a thing. Furthermore, she said, she didn't have her costumes or music with her. They assured her that what she was wearing would perfectly all right and they could just use the jukebox at the bar if they needed music. Finally, after much discussion, she overcame her feeble objections and agreed to be a "surprise" for their friend. One of them clapped his hands together and said, "All right!" She made a point then of saying she couldn't be up all night and that she needed to get back to her motel by 1:30 a.m. or so. She couldn't be a total wreck tomorrow, she said. After all, she was expected to interact professionally with the others at the conference. Paul said, "No problem! We can just stop by for a little while," and, taking a cell phone from his pocket, walked out the front door of the bar, dialing as he went. Nancy and the three guys at her table all stood up then, getting ready to go somewhere. They were joined by several other guys from the bar and I heard them talking about "going over to surprise Billy." It looked like there might be a minor exodus from this place to the one where Billy was. I was still at the bar, of course, thinking of how I might best attach myself to this group of guys when Nancy suddenly walked over to me and said, in a voice loud enough for the others to hear, "Weren't you in one of my sessions today? Aren't you at the conference, too?" I said that I was. I told her (and the others listening in) that I was a high school teacher from California. A plausible story, I figured. She slapped her head and said, "Oh, shit! I hope you haven't been listening to any of this, about me going over to this little party, I mean. I'm afraid it'll be all over the place tomorrow." I said (as Paul, who had returned from making his phone call, glowered at me) that, of course, I wouldn't say a word to anyone about it. I didn't even know anyone at the conference. What the guys were planning for their friend sounded like fun to me, I added. And her going along with it showed what a good sport she was. And, since I wasn't doing anything, I asked her, could I tag along? She acted relieved. "Sure, I don't mind. But none of those teachers had better hear about this, OK? Not that I plan on being a teacher much longer." She shook hands with me and I introduced myself using my real name, Calvin. The guys, even though I was an outsider, seemed willing to accept me and resumed getting ready to go. It was about 12:15. I was given directions to the bar our group was going to, only a few blocks away as it turned out. It was attached to a restaurant that had stopped serving an hour or so earlier. The soon-to-be-wedded Billy was tending bar there and had the option of closing early when business was slow or if there was a private party. Billy had told Paul over the phone that there wasn't anyone in the bar anyway, that his boss wouldn't mind if he had a few drinks with friends while setting up the bar for the next day. Billy apparently expected a few male companions to drop by. I quickly went to the rental car and pulled it around in front of the bar just as Nancy emerged from it carrying her sweater in one hand and her wallet in the other. Just behind her were five or six guys, including Paul and Frank. She crossed the street, walking a little unsteadily for effect, and Frank unlocked the passenger side door of his car, which looked like a Toyota Matrix, and stood behind her to watch her climb in. From my angle I couldn't see exactly what Frank got to see, but I think she gave him a nice preview of her ass as she leaned forward to lay her sweater on the hump between the two front seats before climbing in. My Wife at the Bachelor Party Frank let Paul into the back seat before walking around the car to get in the driver's side. I watched three or four other guys get in other cars parked nearby then took off for the restaurant-bar. I parked in the lot by the side-entrance to the bar. The main door to the restaurant was obviously locked shut. Soon three other cars, including Frank's Matrix, joined mine in the lot. I got out and introduced myself formally (Cal, from California) to what turned out to be five guys, including Paul and Frank. Paul preceded us to the bar entrance and knocked on the glass door. We stood around a few seconds, then a good-looking Hispanic looking man around twenty-five pushed the door open from inside. We filed in down a short hall and turned right into the empty bar, a masterpiece of bad taste with cheesy art, several red leatherette booths, and an antiquy looking mirror behind the bar. Billy had a small radio behind the bar tuned in to a classic rock and roll station. Something eightyish was playing. Billy seemed to know most but not all of the guys who'd come to visit (apparently I wasn't the only loose connection in the group). Paul introduced Nancy as "a visiting school teacher," and Billy offered to shake hands with her. She pushed past his extended hand, though, threw both arms around his neck, and gave him a big kiss. When she broke off the kiss, Paul prompted her to say something they must've rehearsed in the car. "I'm Mrs. Jones and I'm here to teach you what you'll be missing when you get married," she announced. Everyone laughed and Billy blushed deeply. He was truly surprised and said something like, "Damn it, you guys." But I noticed that, even as he was protesting, his left hand rested on my wife's pretty ass. Paul pulled her away from him and said everyone needed a beer – he said we'd settle up later -- and that "our little school teacher" needed a place to dance. Would the bar do? Billy said something about her being careful not to fall off then went behind the bar to get the beers. Paul picked Nancy up as though she weighed nothing and set her down atop the bar. On the radio was something from U2, I think. I remained standing, but the five other guys had pulled chairs up in a semicircular pattern near the bar as though getting ready to watch a show. Billy brought everyone beers. Nancy obliged her audience by standing up on the bar and performing, for fifteen minutes or so, some dirty dance moves more or less in sync with the music. She was still wearing her jacket and short skirt, but there was a lot of panty flashing. It probably wasn't great dancing, but the guys enjoyed it plenty and made appreciative testosterone noises. The noise grew loudest when she spent almost a minute with her skirt raised and her legs spread making a fucking motion. The fact that my wife's panties were so transparent that these guys, whom she barely knew, could clearly make out the outline of her cunt hair and the little meaty ridges and small patch of moisture where her cunt lips were – it was this that caused me to get an embarrassingly obvious erection. Well, it would have been embarrassing if any of the others had been taking the slightest notice of me. Then Nancy abruptly sat down on the edge of the bar (with her legs spread wide so her crotch remained the center of attention) and said something about still feeling cold. She said she'd felt cold ever since she'd spilled wine on her sweater and had to take it off. Frowning theatrically, she slowly unsnapped her jacket and pulled it open to expose both of her high, perfect breasts. "Just look at what the cold weather has done to me," she complained. Her pink nipples jutted outward and upward. They were absolutely beautiful. Several guys shouted, "Yeah!" and "All right!" Paul said something about how he'd like to warm them up in his mouth. Like an experienced stripper she's not, she took them between her fingertips and tweaked and squeezed them. She made a showy little grimace, halfway between pain and pleasure, and, after another loud chorus of male encouragement, said, "They're really cold, too." Taking a clue from what Paul had said, she added, "Do think there's time for Billy to warm them up for me?" Paul stood up and said loudly, "Get over there, Billy, and give the girl some help or I will. Just look at those sweet little titties waiting for you." But Billy, blushing more than ever, sat down on the end chair of the semicircle and didn't look like he was going to budge. I, the only man not sitting, stood just to the side of his chair nursing my beer. Seeing that he wasn't going to go to her, Nancy dropped down from the bar, kicked off her shoes, and slowly walked over to him. As she walked toward Billy, looking him boldly in the face, she pulled the jacket from her shoulders, freed her wrists from its sleeves, and let it fall to the floor. If she had looked more like a seasoned stripper and less like a teenager, the gesture would have been a cliché. Maybe it was her not wearing high heels and not strutting that made the scene, though obviously contrived as a joke, seem fresh and real and horny. Anyhow, all eyes were fixed on my gorgeous wife, standing in front of Billy (and close enough to me that I could have reached out and touched her) wearing only a short skirt with those indecently sheer white panties underneath. She pushed Billy's legs together and briefly straddled them. Then, placing her arms around his neck, she sat down on his lap. Two of the guys who'd been sitting at the other end of the semicircle stood up and stood behind her to get a better look. Then, as several guys offered words of encouragement (one said, "Yeah, let him have that pretty little pussy of yours"), she arched her upper body to bring her naked breasts up to Billy's face. Using her hands, she placed first one then the other breast against his lips. At first he didn't respond. Her persistence paid off, though, for soon he was nibbling and sucking on her nipples, making them grow even more erect. "Damn, those looks tasty," one of the guys said. "How do you like the teacher's tits, Billy?" another asked. "Are they as nice as Tammy's?" My wife, pulling Billy's head against her breasts, had raised her face to the ceiling and closed her eyes, as though lost in ecstasy. "Oh, God, I love this, Billy! Keep sucking them like that!" she said. "Damn, she's really get off on this," said one of the guys standing behind her. "Make her cum," said another. It was Frank, the sober driver. After a few minutes, Nancy pulled away from Billy, stood up, turned around, and sat down on his lap again. She leaned back against him and, reaching over her head, placed both of her hands behind his neck. My wife's beautiful breasts, their nipples glistening with saliva, were on full display for a few moments. Then Billy slid his hands up her rib cage until he cupped a breast in each hand. He began squeezing and caressing them. She groaned with pleasure, both pretended and real, I suspected. Sitting on Billy's lap having her breasts manhandled, Nancy had thrown her legs wide open. Her little skirt was bunched up around her waist so her panties, what there was of them, were fully exposed. To see better, all five guys (who'd grown suddenly a lot quieter) were now standing up watching Billy manipulate my wife's breasts and looking at her crotch. I was standing to the side of her and couldn't see between her legs as well as they could. I noticed that I wasn't the only one with a hard-on, though. Paul's woody was the most obvious. As Nancy kissed Billy's cheek and whispered encouragement to him, the breast manipulation went on for several minutes. Finally she announced, just loud enough so we could all hear: "I have to go soon. Is there anything else you like from me?" This last question was obviously directed at the groom-to-be. "Ask her for a blow-job," said Frank. Another guy said she should give him a quick fuck. I said maybe she should let him have her panties as a gift. "Would you like my panties, Billy?" she asked. "Would you like them for a souvenir?" "Sure," said Billy. "Damn right he would," said Paul. Others just as firmly endorsed the idea. Still sitting on Billy's lap with her breasts in his hands, she asked the guys, "Would someone please take them off for me?" Paul was surprisingly quick for a large man. He was instantly on his knees between Nancy's legs. "Use your mouth to do it," suggested Frank. It sounded like a good idea to me, but instead Paul raised her legs up so that one rested on each of his broad shoulders. Nancy arched her back slightly then to allow him to reach beneath her ass to get a hold of the elastic band at the back. Then, as someone said "Lord, have mercy!" he slowly pulled the panties down her legs toward him. Paul had to remove her legs from his shoulders to get her panties first over one foot then the other. He then rose up on his knees, my wife's panties in his hand, to see what he'd uncovered. "Ah, that's better," he said. Then he made a show of pressing her panties to his nose and sniffing them. Then he laid them comically over Billy's head. The others standing in front of Nancy drew closer, jostling one another as they competed for good looks at her naked cunt. She didn't disappoint them. She immediately fell back against Billy's chest and returned her hands to the back of his neck Again Billy cupped her naked breasts in his hands and manipulated them, pinching her nipples more than before. And again Nancy's short skirt bunched up around her waist and her legs fell open. But now, of course, her pretty tuft of pubic hair and her cunt were on full gorgeous display. Spreading her legs had caused her moist cunt lips to separate almost a half an inch and her clit was already swollen. There was my wife indecently exposed and writhing in pleasure on Billy's lap. There were these five guys (besides me) taking in the spectacle, four standing and one kneeling down in front of her. Watching these guys taking such pleasure in looking at my obviously aroused wife being used like this had gotten me so turned on that I backed up a step or so behind them and discreetly began jacking off through my trousers. I was getting close to cumming when Nancy decided to stand up (after gently removing Billy's hands from her breasts). Looking rather flushed and straightening out her skirt, she announced that she was loving this but really had to get going. Her standing so suddenly revealed what none of us could have noticed before: Billy had developed a major hard-on that looked as uncomfortable in his pants as mine was in my pants. He made an effort to hide it by covering the bulge with Nancy's panties, which Paul had placed on his head, but this only served to call everyone's attention to his plight. Her announcement brought several firm protests, but after she reminded Frank of his promise to get her back to the motel by 1:30, the protests became milder. The guys gave way to her as, naked except for her short skirt, she walked over to where she'd dropped her jacket. She leaned down to pick it up from the floor, treating all of us to a quick look at her bare ass. She put her jacket on but didn't fasten the snaps. Then she stepped into her shoes. Everyone watched her getting more or less dressed with something between disappointment and resignation. "Like I said, It's time to say good-night, now," she said. "Let me give everybody a hug before we go." She walked over to Frank first and wrapped her arms around his neck. She pressed her body tightly against his and, as she gave him a little peck on the cheek, he let his hands fall to her ass. He gave her ass a squeeze through her skirt and she responded with a good-natured squeal. She then walked over to me and kissed me fully on the lips. I kissed her back, of course, but did Frank one better by sliding my hands up under her skirt and holding her naked ass firmly in my hands. I kept my hands there for quite a while, making sure everyone had a chance to see what I was doing, until she broke off the kiss and began making a low whimpering sound. The reason for this was obvious: as I played with her ass my fingertips were part way in her cunt. She let this go on for another thirty seconds or so before she pushed herself away from me and said, "God, I'll never get out of here if you do that!" I made a show of licking two cunt-wet fingers as she walked over to another guy, a well-built guy with a military haircut whose name I never learned, and put her arms around his neck. He responded to her embrace by first moving his right hand up beneath her loose jacket to her breasts. He caressed each breast for a few seconds (as she clung to his neck as though in a daze), then moved his right hand down beneath her skirt and abruptly up to her cunt. She gasped, then began breathing hard, as he began moving his hand quickly under her skirt. He was obviously fingerfucking her and it was now clear to everyone that the earlier implicit hands-off-the-pussy rule was definitely not in effect. The other guy whose name I didn't know had come up behind Nancy, lifted up the back of her skirt with one hand and worked his other hand between her legs so that he had to be making contact with her asshole. My wife's voice began to sound a little panicky: "Oh, God, you're going to make me cum if you do that! I've got to get to my motel!" This might have led to attempted rape (something I'd never have allowed, of course) if big Paul hadn't stepped in just then and said, "Yeah, we said we'd get her back and we will! We're getting out of here in five minutes, and I mean it." He pushed himself between the two guys who were mauling my wife's crotch and picked her up in his arms. He carried Nancy over to the bar and laid her down on it lengthwise and face-up. "But first I want a little sample of this," he said. "Would that be OK, darlin'?" She lay with the front of her skirt flipped up on her belly and her jacket all the way open. She was virtually naked, laid out of the bar like a buffet dinner. She seemed relieved, though. "OK, Paul, but I'm not fucking anyone, remember? There's no time for that." We all moved down to the left end of the bar, the end farthest from the entrance. Paul began by leaning down and giving Nancy a little kiss. Then he moved his mouth down her body to her breasts. He sucked first one then the other nipple. "Damn, those are nice!" he said. The others were all encouragement. "Keep going, buddy." "Don't stop there." Billy, I noticed, had moved to the end of the bar nearest Nancy's feet. As Paul nibbled and sucked her breasts, Billy leaned forward and pulled her body a few inches toward him. He then spread her thighs apart with his hands. He was doing us all a favor because they had been almost together and, standing behind him, we couldn't see her cunt well enough. Then, with Paul taking his time with my wife's breasts, Billy reached between her legs and quickly inserted two fingers into her glistening wet cunt. She gasped and said, "Oh, God, that's feeling too good!" I stood behind and slightly to the right side of the other onlookers. Listening to their crude comments ("Would you look at that pretty fucking snatch?" "Get that sweet little asshole of hers next, Billy!" "Look how much she loves it, keep going!"), watching soon-to-be-wed Billy working his right index and middle finger vigorously in and out of my wife's excited cunt, watching large Paul sucking her nipples and now moving his left hand down to manipulate my wife's clit, hearing her gasp with pleasure and watching her throw the middle of her body up in an ecstatic fucking motion – all this was too much for me. I'd been secretly stroking my cock inside my pants for several minutes; now I came in several warm messy spurts inside my briefs. No one noticed, of course, because of the obscene show on the bar-top. About a minute later Nancy came, too. She began with quiet whimpers but ended up almost screaming. I hoped there weren't any cops nearby to misinterpret the cause of the noise. "Ooooh, shit!" she cried out, "Ooooh, shit! I can't stop. I'm cumming!!" When her orgasm subsided, she reached down and removed the hands from her cunt. Then she asked Paul to help her sit up and he obliged her. Soon she was sitting with her legs dangling over the front of the bar. She'd lost a shoe, which one of the nameless guys retrieved for her. Still apparently in a daze, she said something about how things had gotten a little out of hand and one guy said, "Not out of hand enough!" Paul helped her down from the bar. She looked a little wobbly on her legs, but she snapped the front of her jacket all the way to the top, checked in her pocket to make sure her wallet was still there, and announced as firmly as she could that it really was time to go now. The clock on the wall read 1:35 but it was probably a little fast. In just a few minutes, all the guys and Nancy had returned to their cars in the parking lot, leaving Billy to finish his off-shift work, and by 1:45 (according to the clock in my rental car) Nancy was climbing out of the back seat of Frank's car, her yellow sweater over her arm. Following Frank's car to the motel, I'd noticed that Paul was riding in the back seat with my wife. At one point on the way to the motel, Frank pulled his car into a large commercial parking lot and turned off his engine. Parking some distance from them with my lights off, I couldn't see exactly what was happening in the car except that Frank had his head turned around to watch Paul and my wife in the back seat. After about five minutes, Frank started the car again and they continued on to the motel. When Nancy climbed out of the back seat of the car at the motel (it was nearly 2:00 a.m.), Paul was right behind her. As I watched from my car some fifty feet away, I saw him reach up under her skirt and give her naked ass a final caress. She smiled at him and made her way to our room, which was up a flight of stairs on the second floor. Paul climbed into the front passenger seat and the two guys watched Nancy climb the stairs, probably trying to get a last glimpse of that unforgettable ass of hers. When she got to the landing opposite our room, she looked down at Frank's car and waved goodnight. Then she opened the door and went inside. A few minutes after they drove off, I parked the rental car and went upstairs to the room. I knocked on the door and my beautiful, horny wife opened it. She was completely naked. She pulled me to her and gave me a deep, lingering kiss. "Paul made me cum again in the car. He ate my cunt in that parking lot while his friend watched," she said. "Sorry you missed it, but you got to see plenty, I think. Billy was a little rough with his fingers and Paul really needed a shave. I hope I'm not sore down there." I was out of my clothes in nothing flat. My briefs were a mess of semen and there was a big wet spot on my trousers. Nancy preceded me into the shower. After getting thoroughly clean and relaxed, we went immediately to bed. At about 5:00 a.m. Nancy woke me up sucking my cock. When I was good and hard, I placed her on her knees and fucked her in the ass for the first time in several months. Though she doesn't usually like being fucked this way much, for some reason she did this time. While Nancy lounged around in several coffee shops and bookstores near the campus, I met with several people at the university the next day, but we left Eugene that afternoon. We drove to Portland and spent the night there (attended a play, no sex games) before driving back down to the Eugene airport. For reasons having nothing to do with our horny adventure in Eugene, I think I've decided against doing graduate school at the University of Oregon. We'll have to investigate somewhere else soon because I'm still determined to get out of community college teaching. My Wife at the Bachelor Party And we'll figure out some sexy thing to do while investigating.