The First Adventure Part Two

Hubby gazed into my eyes with a sexy intensity.

“You’re going to go next door,” he growled huskily, “and give Laurent the blowjob of his life.”

I froze. My eyes widened.

“We’ve been talking about it for months,” Hubby growled. “I told you I wanted to see you suck another man’s cock. And after what you did…” He was referring, of course, to my encounter with Darren in that hotel room in Birmingham. “You owe me.”

I was conflicted. Right then and there, I knew, was the tipping point between continuing my abortive project to be a sexual submissive and just throwing in the towel. I was annoyed and disgusted with Hubby for hitting me with this demand right out of the blue.

But, don’t you know it? I was also wet.

I mean, Laurent was a great looking guy. And sexy. And I wouldn’t have gone along with Hubby’s filthy talk and submissive sex games if I hadn’t ever considered this sort of thing a possibility, right? In fact, I’d even been angry and disappointed at him for going on about ‘sharing’ me and never actually having the wherewithal to set anything up!

So fighting every instinct to say ‘no,’ I bit my bottom lip and made a conscious decision to do this thing.

Hubby grabbed the whiskey. I got the After Eights. And with butterflies in my stomach, I shuffled back into the living room.

Laurent was just sitting there, idly sipping his wine. He looked prissy and neat and twee. It occurred to me that he might have no idea about Hubby’s scheme and when I suddenly accosted him, he’d be horrified. I could just imagine the shock of a fat, pregnant wife and a creepy English husband sexually harassing him.

But Laurent’s eyes lit up when he saw the collar around my neck. I realized Hubby must have told him about his plans.

Hubby – I mean Master – wrenched me to a halt. He made me stand in front of Laurent in my jeans and sweatshirt.

“Stay there.”

Taking the box of After Eights, he flopped down into the armchair and poured two generous glasses of whiskey. He passed one to Laurent.

“Okay, my sexy little slut,” Hubby purred at me, peering up from his chair. “Take off your clothes.”

“W-what?”

“You heard me.”

Eyes flicking between Laurent and my husband, I nodded.

Grabbing the hem of my sweatshirt, I pulled it over my head and threw it to the floor. I was wearing a t-shirt underneath. I left that on as I pulled off my trainers and socks and threw them across the room (since I was worried they’d be smelly!)

I stood there in my big, unsexy cotton panties and t-shirt. My bulging belly… Well, bulged. And my big tits were squeezed into my ill-fitting bra.

But as unsexy as I felt, the appreciative (hungry?) eyes of Laurent and Master clearly proved that they found me rather appetizing.

I grabbed the t-shirt and pulled it off. Then I stood there in my big knickers and bulging bra.

Hubby’s voice was hoarse. “Take off the bra.”

I unclasped the front and slowly pulled the two cups apart. My big, swollen breasts flopped out.

Laurent gasped.

“Turn around,” Hubby ordered. Nervously, I did as I was told. “Now bend over.”

Bent at the waist, my big arse in his face, I dug my thumbs into the waistband of my knickers and slowly wriggled them over my hips. Then my thighs. Then they dropped to my ankles.

“Putain…” Laurent breathed, staring into my round bum and hairy pussy.

I straightened up and turned around, peering down at Laurent, focusing entirely on him. I knew Hubby was watching, but it was this intense Frenchman who I was performing for and now I’d got into the spirit of things, I was wildly excited at the task Hubby had assigned me.

“You are beautiful,” Laurent purred.

My pussy gushed. I wish I’d have known about this! I’d have shaven it!

Dropping to my knees, I reached forward and placed my hot hands on the rough material of his jeans. I could see a bulge in the front of his flies.

My hands slid up, by thumbs tracing a path along his inner thighs.

My mouth was dry (the last thing I needed, given what I was about to do.)

Fingers trembling, I unbuckled his belt and popped the buttons of his flies.

Laurent just sat there, his breath deepening.

Pulling apart his flies, I saw the sheen of his tight boxers.

My fingers curled around the waistband of his jeans.

Then, with a sharp tug, I wrenched them and his boxers down around his knees.

Boing! From a nest of busy, black pubic hair sprung a long, thick, uncircumcised penis.

It smelt musky. It was dark – olive coloured, like Laurent’s skin.

My fingers touched the bare flesh of his thighs. He gasped.

I slid my hands up his thighs, feeling the bristly black hair against my palm. Then my fingers reached his hairy balls.

I turned to Hubby, looking for approval. The lusty look on my husband’s face reassured me that he was totally lapping up every moment of this.

My fingers tickled Laurent’s balls.

“Merde,” he gasped, reaching a hand up the run it through my hair. “That feels wonderful.”

The fingers of my other hand encircled his shaft. I pumped his cock for a few minutes, feeling the warm firmness throb in my hand.

Then, licking my lips, I lowered my head.

His musky scent engulfed my nostrils, just as my open lips engulfed his cock.

“Fils de Pute,” he gasped, jerking his hips upwards, jabbing his dick further into my mouth.

I closed my eyes and concentrated on the strange sensation of a stranger’s dick in my mouth.

My tongue swirled. Saliva dribbled down Laurent’s balls. My fingers pumped his shaft as I lifted my mouth from his cock and replaced my sucking with firm, long licks. Up and down the shaft. Across the wrinkled skin of his balls. Pulling down his foreskin, I lapped at his swollen, purple cockhead like a kitten drinking milk.

“Uhhhh,” Laurent’s fingers curled into my hair, forcing my mouth back over his cockhead. A sharp tug of my black hair brought tears to my eyes.

There was the rustle of cloth. I couldn’t see him, but I could hear Hubby slide off his chair and come crawling up behind me.

His hot hands cupped my buttocks, spreading my thighs. I squeezed my eyes shut harder, trying to process the dual sensations of Laurent’s throbbing hardness in my mouth and Hubby’s rough hands on my naked arse.

My head was bobbing up and down. Laurent’s thick cock was slurping wetly in and out of my suctioning lips. My tongue was swirling as if I was sucking a delicious ice-lolly.

I groaned hotly around the meat in my mouth. I’d just felt Hubby’s fingers part the hair lips of my pussy and slide inside my sodden cunt.

And I was sodden. Absolutely dripping.

“Mon dieu,” Laurent groaned hotly. “I’m going to cum…”

With Hubby’s slick thumb circling my thrumming clit and his fat fingers massaging my g-spot, I knew I wasn’t far behind.

I squeezed Laurent’s tight balls. I bobbed my head faster, up and down, feeling him lift his hips from the sofa to sink his cock deeper into my mouth.

I squeezed my thighs together. I came.

Clenching down hard on Hubby’s fingers, I felt my clit explode. The waves of shuddering pleasure forced a guttural groan which opened up my throat, letting Laurent sink inside my mouth up to the balls.

I couldn’t breath. My throat bulged. His hands held my head down, my mouth impaled by his dick.

I think I would have passed out if it wasn’t for Hubby’s fingers hammering between by sticky thighs – driving my orgasm harder and harder. I coughed and spluttered and groaned and choked and Laurent ignored it all as he forcefully fucked my mouth and spurted salty wetness across my tongue.

The Frenchman kept my head held down hard, forcing my to swallow the mouthful of cum. Only after my throat bulged and I gulped down his seed did he let me up. My mouth detached wetly from his limp cock, great, sticky strands of saliva and cum stretching from his flesh to my lips.

Laurent lay back on the sofa, gasping for air. He smiled.

I wiped my wet lips and chin with the back of my hand.

“That,” said Hubby, still knelt behind me with his fingers buried deep within my cunt, “was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”