Grace Finds The Bar
As she waited for the light to turn green, Grace suppressed a giggle. At Raunch magazine, she suspected that she had just become a legend in her own time. Which took some doing, considering how perverted that rag was.
As bold as she was, she had outdone herself. She had walked into the magazine's lobby and, without an appointment, had sweet-talked her way into an immediate interview with the photo editor.
Grace wore what she described as her “catch” two-piece black dress with abstract gold patterns that gave even old men vicious hard ons. The wicked and flimsy dress even had matching trashy black and gold bikini panties. Then there were her smoky black stockings accentuating her shapely big legs, and her black stiletto pumps with spike heels that had a little gold fan in back of her ankle. Grace knew that her chic, short black haircut was one of the baddest around. All in all, she was one bad broad and knew it.
Grace convinced the photo editor to do a photo session on the spot. Without being prompted, she pulled her skimpy panties aside to expose her twitching wet pussylips. She knew she was an exhibitionist slut and had tried to outdo herself. Her fat asscheeks quivered as the camera clicked off a series of shots.
She had started making nasty fuck movements and, in very short order, had the photographer boning her good.
Stuffing her with nine inches of fat cock, her shapely body had been racked repeatedly with orgasms. The stupefied photographer had pumped a load into her swampy pussy, and then fucked her asshole until she hollered like a banshee. He ended the lurid fuck/photo session by stretching her red lips in a heated facefuck and spraying a gooey load across her tonsils, mouth and face.
She had left without giving them a last name and probably wouldn't even pick up the check. She did want to see the pics, though. She hoped they'd publish them. When her husband saw them, she knew he'd dick her brains out. The pictures were nasty, really fuckynasty good. They were prime jackoff material, that was for sure.
The light changed. As soon as Grace made the turn, she realized that none of the buildings in front of her looked familiar. Her mind snapped back into the present moment. Where in the hell was she?
Actually, the block looked a little seedy, as if it had seen better days. She knew she was lost. Well, she'd double back and retrace her route. As she tried to make a U-turn, the engine quit. Damn! she thought. This just wasn't her night! Her Benz glided to a halt, fortunately against the curb in a parking space. Now-fucking-what?
At the edge of her peripheral vision, she saw a small neon sign, almost inconspicuous against a brick building. The sign said simply: THE BAR.
Well, if she called Fred, he'd come and get her. When she looked in her purse for her cell phone, she decided that Murphy’s Law had kicked in. Her car was dead and her cell phone was nowhere to be found. She would have to call her husband from The Bar. Boy, would that kinky bastard dick her good when she told him what she had done today. She ha no way of knowing that, although it was dusk, the day had barely started. She felt apprehension as she looked at The Bar but the streets were quiet and, somehow, that soothed her. She locked her car, then started across the street, her bad black-and-gold dress clinging to her voluptuous asscheeks as she walked, her spiked black pumps clickety-clacking on the pavement.
The minute she stepped into The Bar, a flood of contradictory emotions flooded her immediately alert and awakened consciousness. Grace told her husband later that she had never experienced a moment quite like that one.
Her overwhelming first impression was a room full of black dudes. No, black studs. There were actually only three, plus the bartender. Her next impression was a feeling of danger. Right behind that was an overwhelming rush of lust. Partly because of the danger, but partly because the potential danger lurked at the very core of a fantasy that she had had for years.
A fantasy that always made her weak in the knees. A fantasy where she turned into a submissive, whimpering, fuckstarved cockslut. A fantasy that she had shared with no one until last week, when she and Fred had one of those special lovemaking sessions where vulnerability reigns and you tell your special one special things.
A fantasy where two black dudes with large cocks fucked her brains out.
In this case, her deepest, darkest—no pun intended—most private fantasy. There was also an emotional rush as she realized that she had told her husband, and his reaction to her fantasy had been a deepfucking and longdicking like she hadn't had in quite a while. After all, fantasy was one thing and reality was another.
Grace tried to conceal her surprise as she surveyed the room. The four black men looked at her the way people looked at exhibits in museums. She looked at the bartender and her pussymeat spasmed. If this dude wanted to get in her panties, she was going to have a hard time saying no. It wasn't that he was handsome or anything; it was just an intuitive knowing that he had a huge cock. She was certain he had at least nine inches of dickmeat to fuck her with, as many times as she needed it.
Although she was adventurous, and bold, even, she quietly, almost subconsciously slipped into a submissive mode in sexual situations. When there was some serious fucking to be done, she enjoyed being submissive. Timidly, she moved toward the bar in The Bar, her heels clacking loudly in the silence.
“M-may I use y-your phone?” Grace stammered, cursing inwardly at her inability to conceal her nervousness. To complicate everything, cuntjuice leaked into her black-and-gold bikini panties, which were clinging to her damp fuckhole. She summoned her willpower and tried not to squirm.
“It's over there,” the bartender said, boring holes into her flesh with his eyes. Grace almost came as she realized that this man was going to dick the shit out of her before she got out of this place. He knew it, she knew it, and they were talking about everything else.
“T-thank you,” she stuttered. Fuck! She knew every man in the room had his eyes on her fat asscheeks as she tried to walk calmly to the telephone. She knew that her “catch” black-and-gold dress was clinging to every contour of her asscheeks, causing every piece of dickmeat in the room to be rock-hard. Ooooooo, fuck, this was so nasty and no one had even mentioned sex.
She dropped coins in the phone, asked to reverse the charges, and tried to ignore the pussyjuice making a tiny puddle on the band of her panties, thoroughly wetting the black band of flesh imbedded between her fuck-itchy pussylips. u*********sly, she patted her foxy haircut and straightened her skirt. Also u*********sly, she slipped the heel of one pump off, dangling the ultra-sexy shoe from her shapely foot.
Fred picked up on the fourth ring. Grace felt as if she had been waiting at least thirty-five minutes. She knew she would have to have some dick real soon. Lots of dick. Fucking her hard. Good, stiff dick. Soon. Real soon. Making her come. Hard. Juicing his dick. Ohhhhhgoddd! Ooooooo! Mmmmuuuh! Whhhhhewww! Grace's leaking pussyjuice coated her fat thighs.
She explained her situation, noting both that she needed his help and that it was their fantasy in spades, pun intended, if they wanted to deal with that.
Fred's mind really didn't want to deal with it, but his dick was so damn hard that he couldn't process the info the way he properly thought it should be processed, because he wanted desperately, was suddenly obsessed by wanting to see Grace being fucked good, really good, taking a really good and hard fucking, taking a big dick in her pussy, making her holler because it was so good . . .
“What do you think I should do?” Grace said, squeezing her fat thighs together.
“Do you think they'll hurt you?” Fred asked, rubbing the stiffened bone in his trousers. She said no, she doubted it, the energy felt sexual, not violent. He wanted to know if she would call him and let him listen if anything jumped off?
She smiled, feeling the growing fuckhunger in her gooey cunt. “Yes, you kinky bastard,” she grinned. “You're going to whack off, aren't you?”
“Yeah, but I'll still have a couple loads for you when you get home,” Fred said.
“Promises, promises,” she whispered. “What are we going to do about the car?”
They agreed to get it towed in the morning, they told each other they loved each other, they told each other they were in for a good fucking as soon as they saw each other.
Grace turned from the phone and blushed. The bartender was standing less than two feet from her, grinning. He had heard everything.
“I called one of my partners. He's on his way over to fix your car, m'am. My name’s Leroy,” the bartender said, eyeing her voluptuous body.
Grace knew her face was red. “Thank you,” Grace said softly. Involuntarily, her eyes darted to his crotch.
Leroy asked her if she wanted a drink. Grace asked for a double vodka martini. The bartender led his guest to a stool at the bar and then made the drink for her. The other men didn't take their eyes off Grace. She was grateful for the drink, hoping the coldness would quench her heat. Her panties were a mess. Leroy walked around the bar and stood beside her. Grace sipped her martini and, knowing what was going to go down, turned on her stool.
“Take out my cock,” Leroy said in a matter-of-fact voice, looking at the barely hidden fucklust in Grace's eyes. Grace looked him in the eye. Fuck pretense.
“May I call my husband? He wants to listen,” Grace said as if she'd known Leroy for years.
“My kind of people,” Leroy smiled. “You look freaky, but I'm gonna tell you how it is here. No one's gon' make you do shit, understand? Unless you into being made to do shit, then we'll accommodate you, dig? I know you know my partners all want to jump your bones, right? But maybe you ain't into that. You and me, we can go into the office, you know, if you want to be alone.”
Grace felt reassured. She was getting ready to be a submissive slut, but she was in charge to a certain degree and she appreciated it.
“I-I don't think I'm ready for a-all of them,” she stammered. “B-but I've always fantasized about two m-men at the same time, and I-I guess this is as good a time as any.”
“You got it, darlin’ ” Leroy grinned, showing white, even teeth. “Anything else?”
“My husband w-wants to listen.” God, she thought, I'm so nervous! I feel like a virgin on her first date.
Leroy grinned wider. “You are a freaky one. Yeah, go ahead in the office and call your husband, I'll get one of the fellows and be right in. Make yourself comfortable,” he said.
Grace crossed the room to the office on tottering heels, her legs weak, her pussy wet. Leroy went to give the bad news to two out of three of his partners. Both of them grumbled until Leroy suggested they call Felicia, a diminutive, big-tittied chick who lived about two blocks from The Bar, and a slut who would be glad to accommodate them. They grinned, wondering why they hadn't thought of that.
When Leroy walked into the dim office with Ralph, Grace still hadn't made her call. The bartender walked across and stood directly in front of her, his bulging crotch level with her face.
“Hey, I got a better idea,” he said. “Why don't you get me and my partner hard first and then call your husband? If he's freaky, I think he'll like that.”
Grace was too dazed with fucklust to say anything. Hypnotically, she reached for Leroy's zipper and pulled it down, the sound loud in the room. Ralph checked it out.
His thick cock was already swelling toward its full ten inches and Grace groaned when he placed a hand on her sexy butch haircut and guided her lips to the cockhead. Her tongue snaked out, licked at the pisshole. Then, mewling, she guided half of the fuckpole between her greedy lips. She slurped loudly on his rapidly hardening dickmeat.
Ralph undid his own zipper and pulled out his fully erect pole. Watching this bitch gobble Leroy's meat had done it for him. Damn, he thought, she was sucking like there's no tomorrow.
He didn't realize Grace had had her first cum spasm when Leroy's swollen cockhead had bumped the roof of her mouth. Sucking cock was one of her favorite things. She was scarfing his cock wildly and delirious with the nasty feel of her thoroughly soiled black-and-gold panties bunched in her crotch.
Leroy began fucking her mouth seriously. He wanted to try the pussy out, but if she kept on sucking his fuckmeat like this, he was going to coat her tonsils with a load of spunk. “Ahhhhh, go 'head, girl, suck it like you mean it, you soft-lipped motherfuckerrrrrr . . .”
Grace deep-throated Leroy, making snuffling noises as she snorted for air. Suddenly she moved to Ralph's dick and began sucking, stroking Leroy's saliva-coated hardness with her hand.
Grace's talents as a fellatio artist quickly brought both cocks to brick-like stiffness. Then, while the men undressed, she called her husband. He picked up in the middle of the first ring.
“I was starting to worry,” he said. “And I've got a surprise for you. Are you okay?”
With her free hand, Grace stroked her swampy pussylips and swollen clit, her skirt bunched in her lap, her big legs splayed as she sprawled back in an overstuffed chair, her spiked heels digging into the fabric. “I'm so hot, Fred . . .What's the surprise?”
He said he would tell her in a little while, that it had something to do with one of her club members. From the strain in his voice, Grace deduced that one of the “Horny Housewives Social Club,” the collective name for the women in their swinger's club, was helping Fred in some way get off and bust his nut. The men called themselves “The Voracious Voyeurs.” Fred wanted to know what was happening.
Grace breathed heavily. Her blouse had fallen open, exposing her medium-sized breasts capped with stiff nipples that resembled pebbles. One hand tweaked them as she stared through lidded eyes at Leroy and Ralph, who stood on each side of her stroking their hard cocks.
“They're standing on each side of me, stroking their hard cocks,” she breathed. Her other hand pulled her bikini panties into a thin band that caught between her soggy cuntlips. Whining, she ground her fat asscheeks lewdly. “Ooo, b-both of them are leaking pre-cum juice, honey . . . they're r-really ready. . . huh? . . . About ten inches a-and nine inches . . . yeah, I know . . . they're gonna fuck me good . . . A-are you real hard, baby? Ooooo, Leroy's rubbing his dick on m-my cheek a-and Mmmmmmmf!. . . Oooo, baby, this is so dirty, I'm getting sooo weettttttt! Oooooosllllmmmfff!. . . oh, baby, he's
m-making me suck his b-big hard dick!. . . Oh, honey, n-now Ralph wants me toogllllrrrfffff! Mmmmmmmmuhhh! Oh, they're both fucking my mouth with their big dicks, honeeeeyyyyyyyy! Mmff! Mmmmmmmmmllllffff! Slllrrgggg! Gllllrf ! Mmmmmmmmmllllffff! Slllrrgggg!”
Leroy and Ralph stuffed their fat cockheads between Grace's gaping lips, telling her what a nasty fuckslut she was, gobbling on the two big hard black dicks of strangers like a common street whore. She whimpered and came when they told her what they were going to do to her, told her how they were going to fuck her mouth and come all over her slutty face, and how they were going to sandwich fuck her and make her holler and shit.
They turned her around and Ralph got behind her and fed his dickmeat to her juicy fuckhole doggie-style, while Leroy continued to dick her wildly sucking lips. Leroy wanted to hear her
give her old man all the lurid details, so he managed to free his saliva-stained cock and slapped her with it.
“Tell him what we doing to you, bitch, Ooooo, damn, you sure know how to suck cock,” Leroy growled, whapping his stiff meat against her face, making her moan.
Grace was overwhelmed with fuckhunger as the two dicks buffeted her at both ends.
“Ooooeeeeee! Oooo, shit, a-a-a-awwwwyyeaaahhhh!”
“UH-UH-UH-dick meeee, ooo, honey, they're dicking my brains outttt! Ooooo, good dick, baby, goooooddickk!”
“Oh, t-this is s-so nasty, honey, Leroy's cockwhipping me a-and calling me filthy names. Ooooo, baby, I c-can't s-stopc-c-ccuuuuummminnngOoooooooonnnnnnuuhhhh!”
They sandwiched her and she described every lurid detail to her husband, who had finally told her his surprise. Her girlfriend Lana had been masturbating for him while he jacked off and told her what was happening, and now she was scarfing his cockmeat.
“Oooooooo, tooo muchhh, oh, muthafuckashit, t-tooo muchhh cockkkkkkk! Oooo, don't stop, stufff meeeeeeeeeee! Owwwwwfuckkkkitttgoooodddd! Owwwww! Bust me the juice! Bust your nuts! I need the juicccceee!”
They placed her head in the chair and began doublefucking her mouth again, occasionally slapping her with their now freely leaking fuckpoles. Suddenly, Leroy groaned and stroked his cock furiously, his fist a blur as he aimed the bloated cockhead at her gaping mouth.
Fuckjuice splattered Grace's face, a thick rope careening along her jawline. A fat knot of spunk struck her forehead and dripped across her right eye. She caught the next blast between her outstretched lips, coating her tongue white.
The lurid sight was too much for Ralph. He stroked his straining pole as it erupted, hosing Grace's cum-streaked face with more clumps of the gooey stuff. Thick wads of greasy sperm flooded her mouth. She gagged and the stuff backed up, flooding her mouth until cumsnot leaked from her nostrils.
Her husband heard it all as he fucked a thick, hot load into Lana's eager throat, a fuckslut we will learn a whole lot about later.
In the main room of The Bar, Felicia coaxed two loads from two regulars at the place, whose name she didn't even know. It was one of her favorite things, masochist that she was, letting strangers shoot slimy cockjuice all over her fat titties. Or anywhere, her face, in her asshole, all over.
We're going to meet Felicia later, too. XXXXXXXXXXXX
Meanwhile, Grace wallowed in the copious sperm bath, trembling through repeated cum spasms as she jacked the two men off. She rubbed the leaking fucksticks across her face, rubbing the sticky dickjuice into her skin.
Feeling dazed, she picked up the phone to see if Fred was still there. He was, grunting through the last throes of his orgasm. Lana licked the head of his cock as she milked his now-shrinking fucktool.
She came again when he told her he was going to fuck the shit out of her when she got home.
It was two in the morning when Grace left The Bar. Her car had been ready for more than an hour, but she had needed another drink of sperm juice. Leroy had obliged her, after first packing her shit and making her scream her way through two more mind numbing orgasms.
She hoped Fred wanted to play their game when she got home. It shouldn't be a problem since he always got brickhard when they played “Punishment.”
She looked down at her black-and-gold “catch” dress—she had certainly caught! —and realized that she certainly looked the part of the “naughty” wife. Her skirt was rumpled and had cum stains on it. Her blouse was a wrinkled mess. She had dried flakes of dickjuice in her hair. Her chic, butch haircut was now distorted and matted with sweat. There was even a dried cum spot on the pointed toe of her sexy black high-heeled pump. Boy, did she look the part!
Twenty minutes later, she was standing in the archway to their living room, gleeful inside because Fred definitely wanted to play the game, judging by the bulge of stiff cock tenting his trousers. He was trying, with only partial success, to look angry.
In the game, they had to pretend that he didn't know what had happened. Most of the time, when she saw someone in the club, he didn't know what had happened, only that she had gone. They had only done the telephone number once before, when she had picked a delicious stud about twenty years old and taken him to a motel. The boy loved to eat pussy and Fred had busted two loads listening to her get off.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Fred growled in his best macho voice. She noticed that he had the K-Y jelly out, and the ropes, too. For the third time that day, the oversexed housewife felt her cuntjuices lubricating her pussylips in anticipation.
“M-my car broke down a-and I stopped to get some help and, w-well, these two black guys fucked me,” she said in her best I-know-I've-been-bad voice.
“God, you are such a slut, you know that? Letting two men you didn't even know fuck you. And you're such a cunt I bet you let them both fuck you at the same time, didn't you?”
She nodded meekly, feeling her cuntjuices leaking onto her big thighs.
“Well, since you've been such a fuckwhore I'm going to have to punish you. Get down on your knees,” Fred said, rubbing the bulge in his trousers.
When she was kneeling, Fred tied her hands behind her. Her “punishment” was to suck him off until he was hard, then take his ten inches in her butthole, all the while describing how she felt while she was getting fucked. How wet her fuckhole had been, how slutfucky she had felt, how the strange dick had felt as it fucked into her, deep, hitting her bottom pussy.
As she told him how Leroy and Ralph had doublefucked her mouth, one hand held her short hair and the other rubbed his fully erect cock across her face. It took a heavy effort for Fred to keep from busting his nuts. When she got to the sandwichfucking, he turned her around and placed her head on a pillow, leaving her fat asscheeks upraised. He coated her bunghole and his hand with K-Y jelly, then stuck two fingers into the puckered opening. Then, after coating his fuckpole with the oil, he placed his fat cockhead against the anal ring.
“Oh, baby, yeahhhhh. . . . Ralph made me sit on his big dick and I was so wet, he slid right up to the hilt, Ohhhhhh, fuck it iiiiiinnnn! . . . T-then Leroy told me what a nasty fuckslut whore I was, he said he had never seen nobody so h-hungryyy, awwww —Ooooooo—s-so hungry for diiiickkkk! Ooooo! Oh, honey, then he started fucking my ass with his big dick and—Owwwww! Fuck me!—a-and I couldn't stop cumming, baby, they were pumping so much dickmeat innnnnnmmmeeeeeeeee! Ooo, you're dicking my ass soo good, you're going to make me nut if you don't stop, you're making me juice my pussy, ohh, baby, dick it harder, can you —Owwwwww! Yeah! Dick the motherfucker like you mean it! Owwwww! Ohh! Ohhh! Oh, shit! Oh! Oooo! Oooo! Ooooooo! Muthafuckaaaaashiitttttt! Juice me, baby, nut me some juice, shit, you making me craaaazzzyyyyyyy! Oh! Here.. . . comes . . . a b-big . . . Ooooo!. . . nasty . . . nut . . . Oh, baby, here, Oooo, here the muthafuckaaaaaaaAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! Nnngg! Nnnnnnnnnuhhhhh! Nnnnnggguuhhh! Mmmmm! Ohhh! Ooooo, you made me come so good, oh,shit, whew, damn!”
Grace's asscheeks quivered spastically with a mind of their own as she felt the last throes of orgasm. She could feel her husband's cock swelling in her shitchute and knew he was about to bust his nuts. It felt like it was going to be a big load and she didn't mind taking it in the ass, but wondered why he didn't want to make her drink another load. As if he had read her mind, she felt his cockhead slipping out with a pop! and, before she knew what was happening, Fred spun her around as he whacked at his swollen fuckmeat like a madman. She tried to continue her obscene monologue, pausing periodically to stick out her tongue for his cumload.
“Oooobaby, they leaked their slimy cockjuice all over my face like I was a common street whore, honey, ooo, this is so fuckynastygood . . . I told them you wanted to see them fuck me and shoot sperm all over my face and titties. . . . Oh, they drenched me with so much cockjuice, honey, they shot jizz all in my hair and eyes . . . Spunk was even leaking from my nose . . . Ohh, baby, you gon' shoot, ain't you? You gonna bust a big load, ain't youu? Oooo, shoot, oooo, shoot, sperm meee! Uuuh! Give meeeesome! Mmmmuuhhh! Gllllllbbbb! Shooot! Mmmmmmf!”
Sperm seemed to fly everywhere. She had never seen Fred shoot so much come. He looked in pain as his cock jetted wad after wad of greasy come, splattering Grace's outstretched tongue mostly, but also creaming her lustcrazed features.
As they both caught their breath, Grace rubbed his sticky fuckpole on her breasts. Fred caressed her hair. They both knew The Bar would pay a big role in their immediate future.
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