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Metamorphosis of an American Wife

By: bobfr



We had been married for several years when I first came to realize that I was intrigued with the idea of my wife making love to another man. As time went on, my fantasy became an obsession. However, the probability seemed remote because Stacy, my beautiful wife, the mother of our children, was a virgin when we met as teenagers. During the twenty years of our marriage she had remained a respectable and faithful wife. 

Let me describe Stacy so that you can picture her and better understand what I would feel if she were ever to share her charms. She is stunningly beautiful with big blue eyes and luxurious dark brown hair that falls below her shoulders. Standing five eight, her great pair of incredibly long legs seem even longer because her small waist is high. She works out ever day and weighs a trim 125 pounds. Pink nipples centered in silver-dollar sized, pebbly areola crown her full, firm perfect breasts. Her elegant hands and feet are kept well-manicured and pedicured with finger and toe nails usually painted glossy-red. She's bright, has a fabulous personality and, as perfect as I knew her to be and as well as I thought I knew her, I would learn that she was far more adventurous and daring than I could have imagined.

Like many couples, we came to share our deepest thoughts and secrets. My favorite fantasy was always to watch, or hear about, her imaginary, wild sexual experiences with many different well-endowed guys who would bring her to high plateaus of prolonged ecstasy. I often told her that if we were to actually make my fantasies come true it would be neither wrong nor damaging. She thought this an absurd rationalization.

Had we never traveled to Europe, I'm sure that my dreams of her with other men would have remained only in the realm of fantasy. After a typical, hectic week as first-time tourists, we arrived at the exciting French Riviera looking forward to two days of sunshine and a needed break from cathedrals, museums and castles. In our rented car we drove west to the former fishing village of San Tropez. Stacy wore a modest one-piece blue bathing suit to the famous beach. Of course, we knew that French beaches were topless, but we were still astonished to see two totally naked, deeply tanned men casually strolling along the water's edge. Curiosity got the best of us so we followed them. They stopped at "Neptune," the most crowded beach of all, where all of the hundred, or more, sybarites soaking up the sunshine were totally naked.

Because we were thousands of miles from home and on vacation, we daringly decided to stay at "Neptune" and rented mats and an umbrella for the day. I implored Stacy to, at least, lower her top. She told me that she had no intention of going topless and would never go nude. Disappointed, I asked if she wanted to go for a walk? She wanted to catch some sun and read her book so I went by myself. After exploring the long beach I returned to "Neptune" shocked to discover that Stacy had obviously, and suddenly, changed her mind. Her suit was rolled down forming a brief bikini bottom with her bare full breasts aimed to the azure sky. The very next day, almost immediately after we arrived at "Neptune," Stacy was laying on her mat at a crowded beach in the south of France without a stitch. Late that afternoon she rose from her mat and, though nude, confidently strolled through the rows of naked sunbathers to frolic in the sea. The men lustfully gazed at her breasts, pubic patch, long legs and cute ass. 

Our maiden trip to Europe ended far too soon. However, we vowed to return to this exciting continent and to "Neptune Beach" the next summer. Somehow, I knew that Stacy's first step in her transformation would never have happened in America.

Before our departure for our second European trip, Stacy spent a week at a spa in a large city two hundred miles from our home. By the time we boarded the plane for Hamburg, Germany, she was as physically perfect as a female could be.

From Hamburg, we flew to Nice, rented a car and once again raced to "Neptune Beach." My beautiful wife was soon laying naked on her back at our favorite beach. That very afternoon we met a friendly American couple whose names were Bill and Joan. Joan was a very attractive blond about our age with a golden body. Everything about Joan suggested that she loved sex and was available. The day before our departure for Paris, I asked Joan if she knew of any "special night-life" in the French capital? She was smiling as she took her address book from her beach bag, scanned it and made a list for me of eight "very private clubs." She asked where we would be staying because they were coming to Paris a day before their return to America and planned to visit their favorite private club on Friday night. She hoped we would join them so that she could personally introduce us to Andre, the owner.

Two evenings later we met them in the lobby of our hotel. After a forty-five minute drive to the small village west of Paris, It was dusk when we drove through the open wooden gates set in the thick, high rock wall surrounding the club. Perhaps twenty attractive, fashionably dressed couples, whose ages ranged from about thirty to more than sixty, were scattered throughout the old, but magnificently preserved, large two-story building. Very dim, flattering lighting, large bouquets of fresh flowers and classical music playing softly in the background created an incredibly romantic atmosphere. At exactly ten o'clock we sat down to a sumptuous, candle-lit meal. At the stroke of midnight the soft mood music that had been playing during dinner was abruptly replaced by a loud powerful disco-beat. This seemed to be some kind of signal for all the party-goers who quickly left the table and walked through the great room.

We had no idea what to expect next as we hesitantly followed Joan and Bill to a crowded area in the rear where everyone was hurriedly undressing and placing long white cloths over their nakedness creating revealing, make-shift gowns. The women kept on their high heels, the men were barefoot. When Bill excitedly told us that it was time to change, we declined and returned to the relative safety of the great room. We noticed that during the long meal the end tables and coffee tables had been quietly removed and the entire floor area between the horseshoe-shaped sofas had been completely covered with mattresses with immaculate, white fitted-sheets. People who had dined at our side the previous two hours were soon naked and making love with partners who we knew were not their spouses or dates. For me it was indescribably thrilling and I secretly wished that Stacy was one of these lusty wanton women. 

After changing into her robe, boldly leaving her round, tanned-breasts exposed, a very excited Joan suddenly disappeared. When she returned nearly two hours later I thought that she had that dreamy "freshly-fucked" look. Indeed, she told us before we left the club that she was very tired because she had been upstairs getting fucked by four different men. During the early morning drive back to Paris, Joan told Stacy that she too had been a virgin when she married and a faithful housewife until three years ago. Bill, however, had other ideas about monogamy and repeatedly begged her to sleep with other men. She resisted for many years but, at first just to please him, she gave in to his wishes. Soon, she grew to love and need the attention of other men. She urged Stacy to give it a try and promised her that if she did she wouldn't be sorry. In the faint light of the car, I glanced at Stacy to gauge her reaction to Joan's revelation and suggestion. I saw her brow furled in disapproval and, I thought, confusion. Bill and Joan returned to the U.S. the next day. We never saw them again.

For the next several days, while we discovered and fell hopelessly in love with Paris, Stacy and I discussed the club almost continuously. She said that she hated the place and would never go back. A day or two later, she admitted that what we saw was exciting but, nevertheless, wrong. I reminded her that she had been naked at Neptune and stripped in front of a German photographer. She argued that being nude at a beach and posing for pictures was beyond comparison with having sex with someone who wasn't her husband. She became very upset when I told her that as I watched the women at the club accept different men I wished that she had been one of them.

By Wednesday, we had agreed, she very reluctantly, that it wouldn't hurt if we visited the club again just to watch, nothing more. Though, we knew that we would have to change into the club's trade-mark white robes. 

The next day Stacy listened nervously as I telephoned and made a reservation for the following night. Friday afternoon we went shopping. She bought an elegant but very revealing, very short, black dress and a pair of very high black pumps. While we were buying a refill of her favorite perfume she caused my heart to skip at least one beat when she asked the clerk for a tube of scented bikini-line depilatory. 

Before we dressed for the evening she laid on the bed and presented her naked body to me. I applied the scented cream to the top and sides of her triangle of dark pubic hair reducing its natural size. Then I rubbed the cream on her outer pussy lips covering the sparse, thin hair. Five minutes later I gently removed the cream with a warm washcloth leaving just a small perfect arrow of curly dark hair above her cleft pointing the way to her buried treasure. As I examined the opening to her mysterious depths and the moist, pink surrounding flesh, I couldn't help but wonder if the next time that I looked this closely at the inner, dew-covered petals might they have surrounded and lovingly caressed another cock?

Stacy seemed to be lost in her private thoughts so we didn't talk much as she bathed, shaved her legs and underarms, took special care and spent extra time with her make-up, lipstick and brushing her long lustrous hair. She very carefully applied a fresh coat of glossy, red polish to her fingers and toes. After the polish dried, she smoothed lotion on her long, brown legs then slipped on a pair of wispy, black bikini panties. I was thrilled as she boldly stared at me in what seemed to be an unspoken challenge, then pulled the crotch of her panties aside and sprayed perfume on her pussy. 

Two hours after our arrival at the club, the segue to the loud pounding rhythms signaled the end of dinner and the beginning of revelry. This time, knowing what to expect, we nervously got up from the table and walked to the changing area. I quickly arranged the white cloth over one shoulder of my naked body creating what I thought looked like a roman toga. I passed through the arch to the great room to anxiously wait for Stacy who had taken a white cloth into the restroom.

My heart was pounding, my throat was dry and my feelings were mixed as I waited for her. Finally, she appeared at the arched opening and posed. She had taken the long white cloth, slipped it around her neck barely covering her breasts, and tied it tightly at around her waist. It was obvious that she naked under the robe by the way her hard pointy-nipples, ass and spongy tuft of the freshly trimmed pussy hair pressed against the clinging white fabric. Like all of the women at the club she was wearing her high heels. Her long, sun-browned bare legs flashed through the slit of her white, incredibly sexy, make-shift gown split all the way to her hips, as she glided to me and sat on the large horseshoe-shaped sofa. 

Several couples were already naked and frantically making love on the mattress covered floor so close to us that we could have reached down and touched them. A swarthy Italian was vigorously fucking a beautiful blonde. We watched enthralled as his long, thick wet penis pistoned in and out of her clasping pussy for what seemed like a very long time but was probably just a matter of minutes. Finally, his brown body stiffened as he shot his load of semen. After a few minutes they disengaged, slowly stood and presumably went into the bathroom area to freshen-up.

I felt Stacy shift on the sofa and I thought I heard her moan. I turned her way, stunned by what I saw. She was kneeling on the seat facing the back of our sofa which was connected to the back of a sofa behind it. Facing her, separated only by the sofa backs, was the handsome, dark- haired Italian we had just watched fucking the pretty blonde. Stacy and the Italian were kissing intensely. His large hands gently roamed over her bare back, shoulders and the white cloth covering her full breasts. Sometime during the marathon kiss, the Italian, without breaking mouth contact, vaulted over the backs of the sofas removing the barrier that had separated them.

Kneeling on the seat, still facing each other, their bodies seemed welded together. Then, they slowly settled down on the huge sofa. He took his time. First, rubbing her body through the material, then gently he slipped his exploring hand under the loose cloth which was soon hanging from her shoulders completely exposing her breasts and pussy. Her stiffening nipples responded to the rubbing, rolling and tweaking. As he touched the hot skin of her bare thigh, she spread her legs opening herself to him. Soon, his long brown exploring fingers were inside her glistening with her juices as he slowly pumped them in and out. She thrust to engulf them to the knuckles. Her hands left his neck and, with seeming trepidation, went to his swollen, still-damp cock. I watched as she tentatively caressed the penis of the man who would be her second lover. 

Somehow they shifted until he was laying on his back. Stacy slipped-off her shoes leaving her as naked as the moment she was born, except for earrings, the large, glittering Marquis-Cut diamond ring and the plain band of gold on the third finger of her left hand. She knelt over him with her pretty ass sticking high in the air, kissing his stomach and massaging his big, hard penis. He moaned as she opened her mouth wide and took in the first cock, other than mine, as if she had known it intimately for years. She must have sensed he was about to cum and apparently decided that she had waited too many years for this moment and didn't want him to shoot in her warm wet mouth but in her warm wet vagina. She rolled on her back, spread her legs and bent her knees in one smooth motion forming an inviting, warm cradle of flesh. The Italian, accepting the invitation, loomed over her and positioned his dripping cock-head between the lips of her soaking vagina. He then pushed slowly forward and entered her steaming pussy as she sighed and lifted her ass to meet him. 

I knew that the wrinkly surface of the cunt that was so familiar to me was being stretched far more than I had ever stretched it. His engorged cock was bulging against her pussy walls, nudging the mouth of her cervix and being gripped by the moist, tissue-covered vaginal muscles that had experience gripping only one size and shape of cock, mine. I looked at the tell-tale vein on the side of her long neck and, sure enough, it was swollen, as it always was when she enjoyed an intense, convulsing, non-stop orgasm. After what seemed like forever they increased the tempo. Finally, the Italian broke their long kiss, raised up on his arms, stiffened, shuddered and let out a loud "oooohhh" as he emptied his load of freshly-produced semen deep in Stacy's swampy vagina. 

After disengaging, she arose gloriously naked, grabbed her tangled cloth and shoes, smiled sweetly at me and padded barefoot toward the bathroom to clean her lover's cum from the depths of her wet, just fucked pussy. As she passed me she turned and discreetly asked me to bring her compact, comb and lipstick to the bathroom? In the bright light I saw that she was radiant. My fingers examined her slick swollen pussy lips. Her clit, which had never been larger than a small pea, was now hard as a rock and double its usual size. Her trimmed pubic hair was matted with gobs of thick, gray Italian semen. 

Saturday, we awakened recalling the exciting night and were soon fucking passionately until I came in the pussy that had now received a huge load from a stranger. At noon, we decided to drive to the Riviera for a week. However, by Thursday, we both knew where we wanted to be Friday night. The next day we raced North on the auto route to the small village outside Paris. 

She once again changed into her robe in the privacy of the bathroom as she had the week before. I decided to check on the action in the party room while I waited for her. When I returned she wasn't there. I climbed the grand staircase expecting to see her on the king-size bed in the beautiful bedroom. She wasn't there either. I backed down a ladder to a landing off of which was a low-ceiling, very dark room that seemed like a "cave." I crouched and looked in but it was so dark that I couldn't see anything. I did hear the unmistakable sounds of several people engaging in wild sex. At the entrance to the "cave" I noticed a pair of hastily discarded glossy- black high heels. They were Stacy's. There was only one pair of high heels, but certainly more than two people in the "cave." 

After nearly an hour I approached the rear staircase but had to wait as a large, naked disheveled man lumbered down the stone steps. He looked to be Spanish, or Italian and was soaking with dripping sweat. His gargantuan, still swollen, penis was semi-erect with drops of semen falling to the stone floor. I thought that he might have been with Stacy, although I didn't see how she could possibly accommodate him. Yet, I did wonder if the massive, wet shaft between his legs had been inside my wife's pussy just moments before? I didn't have to wonder for long because, in perfect English, he told me what I already knew, that "my beautiful wife was the most incredible lover he had ever been with."

I climbed the stone stairs and knelt at the entrance to the cave and saw that her shoes were still there. I heard bodies thrashing and a chorus of moans, groans, sighs and the squishy, wet music of love making. After eavesdropping for a few minutes, I worked my way back down the spiral staircase. The Spaniard who had been with Stacy was toweling himself vigorously and talking excitedly in Spanish with another man who said "gracias," turned and rushed to the stairway. After a few seconds I followed him arriving at the entrance to the "cave" just in time to see him rip off his robe, throw it aside and scamper naked into the dark cavern to the woman who had been so highly recommended, my life-mate Stacy.

When we returned to our hotel that morning we dropped our clothes and made intense love. Before we fell to sleep, she told me that she had climbed the grand staircase and ready for a different adventure, sensed that the "cave" was empty. She kicked-off her heels, crawled in the dark chamber and, with her heart pounding, laid down on the mattress. She waited expectantly until a shadowy form blocked the dim light that glowed softly from the stone staircase. She had no idea who the hands belonged to that gently touched her bare feet, rubbed her legs for a long time and slowly removed her robe as if unwrapping a precious gift. Naked, they kissed and touched and were soon joined by another man who concentrated on her bottom with magical fingers and a tongue that quickly brought her to orgasm while the first man concentrated on her face and breasts. As if choreographed, they alternated without pausing between her mouth and pussy. Each fucked and ate her and she sucked each man.

She told me that she was so turned-on that she didn't even know that one of the original men had left and been replaced until she reached down to caress the cock of the man kissing her and discovered that her hand couldn't encircle its unfamiliar girth. Even though Louis, from the week before, and her two previous lovers in the "cave" had prepared her for large cocks, she seriously doubted that she could take him in her pussy. Excitedly, she told me that when he began to enter her it hurt as he stretched the lips and the mouth of her vagina farther than ever before. When he hit bottom it made her wince. Reaching down between their joined bodies, she felt that several inches of the monster were not yet inside. However, with each determined thrust she accepted more and more of the giant penis until the excruciating pain was replaced by indescribable pleasure and the massive cock had been totally consumed in her depths. 


Metamorphosis of an American Wife



The remainder of our time in Europe was a blur. At least two nights every week we visited a different club that was on Joan's list until the last one was checked-off the night before we left France. We were sad as we cleared departure control at Orly Airport but we knew that in less than a year we would be clearing arrival control. We could hardly wait.

The next summer Stacy wanted to study French so she made arrangements for lessons at the Berlitz Institute in Paris. She had to leave five days before I could join her. I hated being separated from her and upon my arrival at Orly, after quickly clearing customs, I caught a cab to her hotel. It was about eleven in the morning when I arrived. Hanging on the doorknob to her room was a white "do-not-disturb sign." I quietly opened the door expecting her to still be sleeping. The king-size bed with rumpled sheets was empty but obviously it hadn't been for long because, semen stains and dozens of coarse, curly black pubic hairs, that I knew were not Stacy's, covered the white hotel sheets. 

Jet-lag inevitably overcame me and I soon drifted off to a restless sleep with the pungent, mingled fragrances of sweat, perfume, semen, and vaginal juices wafting from the bedding filling my nostrils. I was awakened by the tip of her moist tongue probing my ear and her naked hot body pressing against my back. My cock was instantly stone-hard. Before I entered her, she asked me to "be easy" because she was very sore. We made frantic love culminating with me cumming very quickly. Afterword, while we were catching our breaths she confessed that she had been starving for male attention for five busy days and five long, empty lonely nights. Fortunately, a classmate named Monique had invited her to dinner the night before with friends. She secretly hoped that one of Monique's friends would be a man. 

In the lobby she was greeted by Monique, another woman named Perette and a tall, powerfully built, very handsome black man named Phillipe, an Ambassador from some small African country, whose skin was as dark as midnight. After dinner they went to a disco. As he held her close while they were dancing to a slow tune, he told her that he wanted to make love with her.

An hour later, her heart was pounding as the elevator lifted them to her floor because, even though she had been a willing participant at the clubs, she had never spent a night with any man but me. He kissed her as he slowly undressed her and she pressed back against his thick black lips welcoming his probing tongue. When she was naked, he kissed the lips of her moist pussy as he had kissed her mouth. His long tongue was inserted inside her lubricated cavity as he probed and licked and sucked until she erupted in a volcanic orgasm that swept her from head to toe. Even though she badly needed him deep inside her, she had second thoughts when she felt the astonishing size of his giant, erect black penis, which was far bigger than the Spaniard's who she had fucked in the "cave" at the club the year before. Nonetheless, she was starving for cock and his was the only one available. This night it would be huge and black. She held her breath as he raised her long legs above his shoulders and brought the head of the black log to kiss the lips of her cunt wet with his saliva and her juices. He pushed gently but couldn't penetrate. 

Then he placed a hand on each of her thighs spreading them apart as far as humanly possible which helped him slip in just the huge head a couple of inches. Stacy said that she grimaced, bit her lip and with determination, tempered by fear, tentatively pushed against him. He pushed the thick black shaft in deeper and deeper. Finally, the anatomically impossible happened, their pelvic bones touched, their pubic hair entwined and he was completely inside her. He waited patiently for her pink flesh to mold itself around his black shaft. When she became comfortable with the enormous tool she was the first to move. Slowly at first, then they moved in unison and were soon thrashing wildly. The first of the cum stains was deposited shortly thereafter as Stacy's white cunt milked a load from Phillip's full swollen black balls. They made love repeatedly that long, sleepless wild night covering the sheets that we were laying on with their mingled juices. 

A week, or so, latter at an exciting club on the left bank, we ran into Monique who arrived with two middle eastern gentlemen from Lebanon. Stacy and the tallest and best looking of the Lebanese spent a lot of time in flirty conversation at the bar. She excitedly told me that we had been invited to his apartment. I declined, though I encouraged Stacy to go with them. As I stood at the curb and watched the flash of her beautiful tan legs climbing into a late model Volvo sedan, I realized that she was ready for anything. Before pulling away the driver handed me a card with Elias' private number. 

To kill some time, I went to a club on the right bank near Hotel De Ville, the Paris city hall. I stayed there for probably and hour then hailed a taxi to the hotel. I tried in vain to sleep. Finally, I called the number on the card. Elias invited me to come over and join the party. I told him I was tired and asked to speak with my wife. When I asked her if she had fucked either Elias or Eli, she whispered, "both." And, when I asked if Eli and Elias were the only men there she told me that "he had several body guards and of course the driver." I asked if she had been with any of them? Knowing that her answer would turn me on, she whispered "not yet." 

I was wide awake when her key opened the lock at 9 in the morning. She was exhausted but, nevertheless, after she climbed into bed, she shared with me every detail that she could remember. At first Elias couldn't get an erection so Monique sucked his cock. But, Stacy desperately needed to be fucked so out of frustration she grabbed Eli's stiff cock and guided it to her smoldering empty hole. She was so wet that he had no trouble sinking his big, thick Lebanese penis all the way inside until his full balls slapped against her ass cheeks with a single thrust. Elias became so excited watching them that he climbed on her the second Eli withdrew and fucked hard until he added his semen to that freshly deposited by Eli. When it was obvious that Elias could come no more and Eli had to leave to drive Monique home, Elias, sensing that she was far from satisfied, almost apologetically, asked if she would be agreeable to servicing his bodyguards and driver? Tremulously, she agreed. For the next several hours, one at a time the young handsome middle-eastern men visited her in Elias' magnificent bedroom. She guessed that there were five of them and at least two came back for seconds. 

A few days later, we became acquainted with a very different type of Paris club. A friend suggested that we check out a new club near the Louvre called the "Triangle." This club was only open in the afternoon between four and eight. The very next afternoon we descended the stairs to the club that had been so highly recommended. The large central room was quite dark with a dance floor surrounded on three sides by maroon sofas. In addition to the bar, there were two other rooms, each with an enormous raised platform bed. There must have been twenty anxious men at the Triangle that afternoon and only two or three women. I gathered that this was a club where horny men came after work to pleasure hungry women who needed many partners. We stayed for less than an hour and watched the women make themselves available to several of the men. 

The next night at our favorite "Paris" private club, Stacy met an aristocratic surgeon named Bertie. Later in our bed, she whispered that Bertie had asked her to meet him the next afternoon. I asked if she wanted to meet him? Softly, she said, "yes." Coincidentally, I had made an appointment for the next day very near the tea room where Bertie and Stacy had arranged to rendezvous and only a half hour later than their appointment. 

The next afternoon, I watched my beautiful wife began to prepare for her date with her new friend. She slipped into a black lace teddy cut very high on the legs that snapped at the crotch. She wore a black silk blouse, a white very short tight skirt and a stripped, tailored silk coat as long as her skirt. White, very high, "fuck-me" heels completed her attire. At three, the taxi dropped us off a block from my appointment and very near where they had agreed to meet. As I watched her walk away I knew she was smoldering. 

After my appointment, the minutes ticked-by ever so slowly. We had agreed to meet at the Triangle at exactly six PM. I arrived a few minutes early and discovered that the afternoon club seemed much more crowded than it had been the first time we visited. There was only one woman in attendance and she was just sitting at the bar nursing a drink. There was absolutely nothing happening in either of the rooms with the huge beds which caused the disappointed, very restless crowd to pace from room to room looking for action. My eyes were glued to the stairs. At 6;15 the familiar beautiful, long bare-legs began their slow descent. I saw the trim ankles, the shapely calves, the mid-thigh hem of the silk coat that did little to hide the pert ass, full perfect breasts and finally the breathtakingly beautiful face that seemed aglow. I led her by the hand to a booth near the dance floor. She said that she was still sizzling hot which was obvious by the sultry "I-want-to-be-fucked" look in her eyes. 

She whispered in my ear with a breathy voice and told me that he had been waiting for her in his dark blue Rolls. They didn't have tea but drove directly to his flat on Avenue Foch, the most exclusive address in Paris. Once they were inside his tastefully furnished apartment they stripped and tumbled naked onto his bed. She sucked his cock to get him hard and then he fucked her coming much too soon to satisfy her. To prove this, not caring where we were or who might be watching, she guided my hand up her leg pushing up her skirt to expose the sticky wet crotch of her teddy. Though he had cum, she was far from being satisfied and hoped that if she could get him hard again he would bring her to the kind of earth-shattering climaxes she had come to expect. She knelt between his legs and spent a long time kissing his chest, sucking his nipples, working her way down his stomach with a trail of kisses and finally to his limp cock still wet from her lubrication mixed with his own semen. She licked and sucked bringing it to a semi- erect state, but not enough to do her any good. She licked underneath and played with his balls in their hairy, wrinkly sack. She then lifted his scrotum and ran her tongue along his taint until it came in contact with his crinkly asshole. His cock instantly stiffened and he moaned and pushed back against her lips. This made her so excited that she came as she fucked his asshole with her pointed tongue. The problem was that he also came and she had wanted him to finish in her vagina not shooting in the air. Two times he could handle, and though he valiantly tried for almost an hour, three he could not. He ate her and brought her to a mild climax but she was frustrated, her clit was throbbing, her pussy was starving for much, much more. 

At six o'clock, he dropped her off where he had picked her up. As she walked toward the Triangle she got hotter and hotter with each step, desperate to have her aching pussy filled again as soon as possible. Several men who were trying to be nonchalant, were watching us as she whispered in my ear and guided my hand under her short skirt and up her bare leg to explore the messy juncture of her thighs. She begged me to take her into the room with the big bed. Knowing what would certainly happen, I asked her if she "was sure?" She starred into my eyes for the briefest moment, gave me a wicked smile and said, "just hurry!" 

In the dim light of the empty room she stood with the back of her thighs pressed against the foot of the tall bed as I melted against her and kissed her sweet lips. I slipped her jacket off her shoulders and placed it in the corner. Then, I pulled down the zipper at the back of her tight skirt and in a single motion pulled the skirt down until it fell at her feet. As she stepped out of the circle of her skirt, she helped me take the black silk blouse off her shoulders and slip it over her arms. I certainly wasn't surprised, nor could Stacy have been, to discover that we were no longer alone. Someone had climbed on the enormous, high bed and was kneeling behind her kissing her neck while holding a lace covered breast in each hand. As I broke our kiss, she instantly turned her mouth to the stranger behind her and kissed him deeply as he deftly slipped the straps of her teddy down each arm baring her swollen breasts to his roaming hands.

As I unsnapped the gooey crotch of the black lace teddy she moved her ass forward letting the back and front of the crotch slip to her waist. Except for her white heels and a tiny band of black lace around her waist, she was naked. The room quickly filled and was soon packed with the crowd that had been anxiously waiting for something exciting to happen. I knelt down and kissed her sopping pussy nibbling on her blood engorged clit and sucking and probing with my tongue as deep as possible bringing her to a shattering orgasm almost instantly. As I was eating her pussy, fingers from more than one hand were roughly exploring her pussy and asshole. Signaling her readiness, she laid back, kicked off her heels and placed her widely separated bare feet at the foot of the mattress and brought her ass to its very edge. As I stood up, I saw that two men were sucking her saliva coated breasts, while the third was still kissing her. 

In an instant, a tall man with curly black hair stepped between her legs to occupy that place where I had been and attacked her bottom with his mouth. I counted thirty-one excited men jammed tightly in the crowded room and only one woman, my wife. Several men brought her pretty hands to their swollen cocks as they knelt on the big bed in what seemed to me to be an audition of their manhood. The man who had been eating her stood up and without relinquishing his place between her legs, dropped his dark trousers to the floor and smoothly slipped his near-bursting circumcised penis deep inside the hungry pussy that Bertie had failed to satisfy. When her first Triangle lover collapsed on top of her minutes later, withdrew, and staggered back, he was roughly shoved aside and replaced by another horny man. A pattern quickly developed. After the third nameless man had shot his load in her pussy, another man dropped to his knees, placed his mouth over the mouth of her vagina and licked and sucked her clean like a mother dog cleaning a new born puppy. To come as fast as possible so that all might share this American treasure was the understood order of the day. 

At eight o'clock the owner told everyone they would have to leave. By eight fifteen the hot smelly room was empty except for Stacy, the owner and me. He was her eleventh lover of the day, counting Bertie, and was in much less of a hurry than the other men. After he finished, I was her twelfth.

During the remainder of the summer we visited several other private clubs and returned home thrilled to have discovered our growing, seemingly limitless, passions. Stacy became the queen of the Parisian night. No man could resist her. Someday, I may write and tell you about: private French clubs, a fabulous club that we discovered in a tall building in Barcelona, clubs in Germany, the night that Stacy drained and exhausted the two most famous porn stars in Europe and an evening with Israeli soldiers. 

If you would like to enjoy Stacy's charms, you will have to plan a trip to Paris in the summer. Here in the states, she is still a respectable, unapproachable and faithful wife. 

Abiento