Airtight - Part One

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I have never fucked while drunk, nor have I ever fucked anyone who was drunk. I am not a drinker, and could never understand people who needed to get drunk to get laid. To me, the dulling of the senses, the impairment of the movements, and the lack of full awareness was a hindrance to good sex, not an enhancement. I wanted to feel every sensation, to breathe in every single smell, and to know in my mind EXACTLY what was happening. Not for safety’s sake, but for hotness’s sake!

I have decided, however, that there may be an exception. Not for me, of course, I don’t drink or consume any mind altering substance stronger than coffee.  Nor do I want to. But, if having a few drinks around can get me what I want, then I might be willing to break my own rule.

In high school, I once made out with my boyfriend while his friend was there. We were outside, sitting on old railroad tracks, and talking. My boyfriend started kissing me, and rubbing my tits. When he started kissing my neck, I looked over at his friend. His friend had the hottest look on his face, like he wanted to join in, but could not. My boyfriend finally put his fingers up my skirt, under my panties, and into my wet cunt, and it felt so good that I closed my eyes. When I opened my eyes again, his friend was just staring at me, like he was not even seeing me, but seeing into my pussy. He wanted to fuck me so bad I could taste it, but sadly, in high school I was more conservative.

Now that I am older, and more assured of who I am and what I want, the look in that boy’s eyes is a challenge to me. When I meet men, I look in their eyes and see if a glimpse of that boy is there. I wonder, what is this man like in bed? Does he grab his wife’s hair as she chokes on his cock? Does he bend over the bed while she fucks him in the ass with a strap-on? I always wonder what would it take to push him over the edge of reason, to the point where he can not breathe, can not think, can not do anything, but beg for my pussy.

As a respectable married woman, no man in his right mind would ever approach me about this. However, I have noticed that after a drink or two, the “right” mind slowly gives way to the wrong mind. And THAT is the mind I want to engage.

I imagine my husband attending a conference with me. After the opening party, we invite two of my male friends back up to our suite, for drinks. We are all still in our party clothes, so when they begin discussing the speaker, I go into the bedroom to change. When they notice that I have been gone for a while, my husband calls for me.

I come into the room crawling on my hands and knees, wearing nothing but black leather knee high boots and a collar. I crawl over to my husband, and look up at him. He lovingly caresses my face, and tells our friends. “See what a good girl she is? You will never find a wife who is so good, so pretty, such a sweet, sweet girl.”

I start to lick his fingers, and then put them in my mouth. He stands up, unzips his pants, and pulls his cock out. He smacks my face with his erection, and I gobble at it hungrily. I try to put it in my mouth, and he tells them, “However, she is an impatient little slut. I have tried again and again to teach her patience, but she won’t not learn.”

With this, pulls his cock away from me, and zips up his pants. He waves his hands in the direction of our friends, and I crawl over to them. They are looking at me with complete shock. Like they can not believe that this is for real. That a woman would really want to do this.

When I get to the first guy, he stands up. I unzip his fly, and pull his cock out. Before I even deign to put it in my mouth, I look back at my husband. He nods at me, and I put my face into the man’s crotch. I smell his cock and his balls, and breathe deeply. It smells of sweat and pre-cum, and I have to taste it. I HAVE to get it in my mouth, or I will die. I am just as impatient as my husband says, and the sight and smell of this new cock makes me want to open my throat and welcome him in.

I start to suck his cock, really working it, not too fast, not too slow, and using my mouth and my hands. He starts to moan, and I can tell he is enjoying it. I look up at him while on my knees, and I can see that he has his eyes closed and his head tilted back. I smile at the power – knowing that in this moment, he belongs to me.

As he is leaning back and moaning, my husband walks up behind me. I know what he has in his hand; I can smell the leather. My pussy gets even wetter at the thought and my ass tenses in anticipation.