We were at a party, not a party I particularly wanted to be at, but we were here. Not really my sort of people, all rather up their own arse types. They were mostly “friends” of my husband, either work or rugby people. Well to do types, the sort of people I didn’t feel particularly comfortable with. Surprisingly it hadn’t been too bad, the music had started quite early so I could avoid endless small talk about Caribbean holidays, work, sports cars, work, holiday villas, work.
I was happier on the dance floor, well the spacious drawing room (as I was told by the hostess) strutting my stuff, in a world of my own, smiling at others but feigning deafness if small talk surfaced.
As was usually the case when the dance music starts my husband makes a swift exit along with several other men leaving a mostly female group apart from some odd guy who was throwing his John Travolta moves (badly). I could see his wife was wishing the ground would open and swallow her (or preferably him) up. You always get one and I was pleased he was providing the cabaret – it was the complete lack of self-awareness that made it so great. Still, he probably had the last laugh as he had earlier been regaling with a story about the difficulty in finding a mooring for his new yacht that cost twice as much as our house! You had to feel sorry for him, these rich types really do go through the ringer don’t they (wankers).
I’d been dancing for what seemed like ages. I needed to find my husband and a drink. I was trying to keep it to a minimum, so I didn’t get too tipsy as I tend to start being honest. In this company that might not be a good idea. I left the dance floor and went through one room and then another before finding my husband sitting in a small library with two other men and one lady.
All the seats were occupied but I thought there should be room for a small one on the sofa next to my husband. “Budge up, I need to rest my legs,” I said. Husband looks up, clearly a bit the worse for wear and cheekily said “sorry, no room, you can try my lap,” the others laughed and laughed again at my “fuck off” reply. It was meant to sound light-hearted, but I think it came out as if I was pissed off. I could tell from the look on his face he was not amused, feeling a bit foolish in front of his friends. Before I could reply or try and smooth things out our host on the sofa opposite offered me his lap.
“Sit here and make an old guy happy instead,” he said.
I don’t know why I did what I did next (I still don’t know even years later) but I moved over and tried as elegantly as possible to sit perched on our hosts knee. “You’re not going to be comfortable like that let me move you more onto my lap. Sorry if there is something hard sticking into you.” He said, gently holding my waist and pulling me into a much closer clinch.
“Perhaps I should get a drink first?’ I said looking for an escape. “Get your husband to fetch it” was our hosts prompt response. Silence. Dare I? “Um darling, would you mind getting me a glass of that lovely red I’ve been drinking?”
If looks could kill and all that, I had really done it now. I waited for the explosion, but it didn’t come instead he got up (admittedly in a huff) and went in search of my drink.
“Well done, you’ve got him well trained. Does he do everything you ask?”
Hardly ever to be honest, I thought. I smiled at our host “If only”
“Well, I’m glad we can get better acquainted, and I can find out a bit more about what makes you tick,” I didn’t like the sound of this, but I still smiled (albeit through gritted teeth).
“Charles and I had a little bet earlier and now you are here you can settle it for us,” he smiled at the man who had been sitting next to my husband.
Sounds ominous. “Oh yes what was that?” I tentatively asked (regretting it as soon as the words had left my mouth).
“It’s about what you’re wearing under your beautiful dress”. Oh god no please beam me up Scotty.
“Charles thought it would be hold-ups, but I was certain you’d be a belt and suspenders type of girl. Am I right?”
The way his hand had been wandering over my backside and thighs for the last couple of minutes I was pretty sure he knew exactly what the answer was, but he clearly wanted to heighten my embarrassment by giving my answer to the room.
I looked rather pleadingly at Camilla (or whatever her name was) the only other possible ally in the room but she took that moment to examine the intricate coving on the ceiling rather than meet my eyes.
Cheers bitch I thought.
Deep breath. “Yes, Edward you are correct. You didn’t have a bet on the colour then?” Did those words just come out of my mouth. I fear they did. This was utter madness. I always referred to Edward as the ‘Fat Controller’ when my husband mentioned him. Not because he was particularly fat, but I sensed he was controlling. He wasn’t the sort of person you needed to give an easy opening to but stupid little me had done just that.
Where the fuck was my husband when I needed him. I know the house was big, but it surely didn’t take that long to find a bottle of red and pour me a glass. Hurry up for fucks sake. I need saving here.
“Well, I didn’t think we’d get an offer like that did you Charles? I thought a lady like you might make me work a bit harder and I am a bit harder, aren’t I, can you feel it?”
I could certainly feel something but this time I did keep my mouth firmly closed.
“What colour are you going for then Charles?”
“What’s the prize for guessing correctly?” was the smug reply from Charles, the normally very boring banker man.
“A kiss for the winner, I think,” said the Fat Controller. “That ok with you, only a bit of harmless fun after all. You can’t expect to get us older guys all revved up and then not deliver something, can she Celia?” Ah Celia not Camilla well I got the first letter right. Would she come to my aid now? Would she fuck.
“Don’t involve me in your tawdry little games Edward, I’m above such sleaziness.”
Pompous bitch I thought and more importantly no help to me.
Fortunately for me at that very moment my knight in shining armour sailed in through the door with my glass of Merlot. I don’t think I’d ever been more pleased to see him. Phew, I might still get out of this in one piece.
Before my husband had a chance to retake his seat the lovely Celia piped up and asked him if he would take her for a dance. “I’ve been looking for a tall, strapping partner to make my evening, I’m sure your wife wouldn’t mind. Would your dear?”
Don’t dear me you bitch was my first thought quickly followed by ways of how I would be scratching her eyes out later even if she did have some award from the queen for services to the community. I was part of the community and here she was dropping me right back in the mire.
To be fair I could see my husband was in a bit of a dilemma, he didn’t want to offend the obnoxious Celia but equally didn’t want to leave me sat on Edward’s lap. I could see the cogs whirling in his brain as he looked for the best solution.
“I’d be delighted.” God, he was even starting to sound like these entitled morons now. “There’s a free seat though now darling why don’t you move over there?”
“She’s fine where she is, thank you, you go and have your dance with vivacious Celia and leave your lovely wife to us. She’s in safe hands here, I promise.” Our genial (hands on) host responded. Vivacious? I needed a dictionary to check the meaning, but I was sure it didn’t mean shrivelled little prune, but I might be wrong. Anyway, fuck Celia I was still in a bit of fix. Perhaps another few sips (gulps) of this lovely red would offer some much-needed inspiration.
Husband duly led the prune off for her dance and then Charles leapt up (well maybe not quite leapt I sensed he never did anything very quickly) and miraculously found a bottle of red wine in a bookcase offering me a refill.
The bastards. These two were clearly a conniving couple. I needed my wits about me now. For some stupid reason though I was still on the Fat Controllers lap. What was wrong with me.
“Charles, would you be so kind as to shut the door save us being disturbed and save our lovely young lady any further embarrassment.” This time he literally did leap up. I’d never seen him move so fast.
“Don’t worry dear, the key is in the door if you bottle it, but I don’t think you will somehow. I think you quite like the attention. Are you getting turned on? No need to answer yet. We’ll find out in a while.” Fat Controller was controlling.
All the time he was stroking my thighs and arse, occasionally pinging a suspender through my dress and he was definitely influencing me, as was the drink. Stop drinking woman I said to myself before taking another big gulp. I must have a death wish but I was excited.
“Frightened your wife’s going to walk in and find you up to no good, are you?” I managed as a repost to his arrogant confidence.
“Not in the slightest my dear, I’ll be telling her all about it when I’m banging her later. She’ll love it, we’re very open with each other. Variety is the spice of life. Have you had much variety?
“No. Only one man for me.” I was determined not to be intimidated by him.
“Oh, how sad, such a waste, body like yours needs to be shared around a bit more. Give you different experiences, it’s so exciting trying someone new, finding out what gets your juices flowing. Are your juices flowing yet? Don’t answer. Anyway, back to our little game, I think. Charles a colour please.”
“White for me,” said Mr Banker.
“Surprising choice, she doesn’t seem the virginal type to me, no offence my dear. I think she’s a bit racier than she likes to let on. Red or black for me. I think I’ll go with black. Am I right?”
I think my look gave it away before I even answered. “Yeeeess” he exclaimed. “Not your night is it, Charles.”
“Stewards enquiry I think.” laughed Charles.” I want to see for my own eyes”. I bet you do I thought. Well, you can fuck right off. Not happening.
“Oh, come on you must trust the young lady. It’s prize giving time. Ready for that kiss now love?” Whispered the man exploring my contours.
He now had one hand round my waist, well more like my arse and the other was stroking my leg from my knee up to the hem of my dress. The hem was rising with each sweeping caress and all I seemed to be able to do was watch in silence as the welt of my stocking came into view.
Another deep breath, another gulp of wine and then it was prize giving time. I lowered my lips to his cheek and left my lipstick mark. He looked at me, his eyes almost piercing my soul (if I had one). I knew that was not going to be an acceptable prize so moved down again gently brushing his lips with mine, taking in his expensive cologne before our lips met.
His mouth opened and for some inexplicable reason so did mine and then we were kissing, tongues, saliva the works. To be fair he could kiss I’d give him that. He was good, as was his hand that had journeyed onto my bare thigh and centimetres from my silk knickers. I tried to keep my legs tightly closed but the action in my mouth, the drink, the situation, Charles’ goading comments from across the room meant I was a lost cause.
My legs just opened welcoming Edward’s deft fingers inside my knickers and then into my soaking snatch.
“Wet?” asked Charles as I grunted when the first finger slipped inside me.
Edward broke from our kiss to give his friend an update, “Soaked, smooth and tight” was his succinct reply.
It gave me a second to try and get my breath before he pulled my head back down to continue our oral exploration. This was becoming a much longer prize giving than I had expected, and it was way more enjoyable. I was in no hurry for it to end and I sensed neither was he. I now had two fingers inside me and his thumb was rather expertly teasing my clit.
“You’ve got her now my friend,” hissed Charles who sounded rather breathless himself. I didn’t dare glance to see what he might be up to!
He was right for the first time tonight. The Fat Controller was certainly in control (and he knew it). He broke our kiss and started whispering in my ear, blowing gently in between words. Oh, I liked that. “Relax honey …. open wider ….. good girl …… let yourself go …… you’re safe with me, I promise … let it go, you know you need to.”
Oh god this was getting too much I could hear his fingers squelching inside me as he varied the pace and strength of his thrusting and as for his thumb well ……
That it was it I went over the edge, and I felt myself squirt onto his hand, (well he had said let it go) I trembled, I moaned, I felt tears in my eyes, I kissed him hard, shoving my tongue deep into his mouth to say thank you.
Wow, that was so intense and so quick. I never cum that quick. I rarely come from a fingering. Hang on a moment. His fingers were still doing their thing he hadn’t finished with me yet. I was already a squirming mess writhing about on his lap but clearly round two or the continuation of round one (whatever, who cares) was still in progress. He had a strong wrist and fingers because I was squeezing hard after my pulsing squirty episode, but it didn’t seem to impact on the relentless stimulation I was receiving from the hand inside me. (Sorry, to explain it was still only two fingers I wasn’t that loose for his fist to fit, mind you if he carried on like this then who knows what he could do to me).
I came again quite quickly, or I never finished the first one. Didn’t know, didn’t care. He gave me a short break before bringing me to another completely mind-blowing orgasm. He was kissing me, encouraging me, holding me. To be honest I didn’t really know what he was doing but it was bloody amazing. I definitely squirted again and was in such a euphoric state I didn’t even feel embarrassed. I think I even heard fart like sounds coming from my pussy (sorry, is that too much information?) but I didn’t give a damn.
Finally, he relented and withdrew his fingers, circling the wet tips over my ever so sensitive clit sending bolts of electricity to the furthermost points of my body. Maybe a slight exaggeration but hopefully you get the gist. I was exhausted, wet, no, very wet and I assumed so was Edward.
As I clung to Edward to stop myself falling off his lap, Charles appeared in view with a large box of tissues to help the clean-up operation. I didn’t want to seem ungrateful, so I took a few to help stem the flow from my still leaking pussy but I though what I really need was a bloody bath towel for this mess.
I tried to get up off his lap, but he held me there and I didn’t struggle. Finally, he gently slid me off his lap onto the floor. I could see his mustard-coloured trousers were heavily stained with my juices and for all I knew maybe his juices to.
“I’m so sorry I said I don’t usually ….. you know, do that.”
“Do what, squirt all over somebody’s hand? He’s not been doing it right then has he. I’ll have to give him lessons,” he laughed.
“It’s probably the drink, I’m so sorry,” was my rather timid reply.
“It’s not the drink, it’s all in the technique dear and getting into your mind to give you what you want, what you need. This is just the start. You’ve been wasting your time; there’s so much I could teach you.”
I bet there is I thought to myself, but I don’t plan on becoming a divorcee to find out.
“Better take these off I think,” he said as he unzipped his trousers and lowered them to the floor. He rather unceremoniously extracted himself from his stained trousers taking the chance to remove his shoes at the same time.
He dried his hand with some more tissues before bending down to give me a lovely deep passionate kiss. That was an unexpected bonus.
“We had better get on with the main prize giving now. People will start to wonder where we’ve got to. Don’t want a search party finding us like this, do we?”
I think my confused expression amused him. “Don’t you remember the prize?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, “A kiss, well you had that and plenty more.”
“Oh, I am sorry didn’t I explain where the kiss had to be?”
My befuddled mind slowly started to see where this was going as he slowly lowered his Hugo Boss underwear.
No, No, No was my answer, well in my head that was my answer but when I saw his cock spring into view there were two things that immediately came into my mind. Firstly, the juice and stain on his trousers was all mine, he had not come. He was hard, erect and large. Not particularly long but thick, no fat, very fat. I broke out in a fit of the giggles as I realised my nickname for Edward was prophetically more spot on than I could ever have known. He really was the Fat Controller. I more drunk before I gave Edward his prize kiss. If I’m being honest, I was so buzzed I didn’t need another glass of wine I was going to kiss his cock anyway. Indeed, I was going to more than kiss it, I was going to suck it and suck it and suck it until I got every drop of cream from that fat cock. There would be no wife banging tonight if I had my way.
declined to explain to both men the reasons for my outburst.
Charles brought over another full glass of Merlot to calm me down, was his reasoning. I sensed it was to get me even
My first kiss was tentative, as reality started to hit home. This was certainly a different dimension from the one I normally took on. It was fat (I know I keep saying that, but it was) but also the head was wider than the shaft and I began to wonder if I was going to disappoint. I didn’t want to disappoint.
A gulp of wine, I really should be savouring this wine more as I know it was far more expensive that the stuff I buy at Tesco, but I had something else to savour and that was more appealing than a £40 bottle of wine.
It did give me a bit of lubrication as my lips engulfed the head of his cock. Blimey this was a stretch. I pulled back and did some jaw stretching exercises before moving back in for a second go. This was different, eye wateringly different and I was only just past the head. I used my tongue and teeth to tease him. To be fair, I had to use my teeth as there was so little space because of this huge slab of meat. I reached through the tangle of pubes to find his balls. As I cupped them, I got the first verbal response. “Oh yes,” unfortunately it was from Charles! What was he doing standing so close. I shooed him away and got back to the job in hand (and mouth).
I lathered up Edward’s cock, much of my normal technique was rendered useless as I was at full stretch the whole time, so the varying levels of tonguing weren’t possible. Edward was now quite lovingly stroking my hair, not rushing me but started with those whispered words of encouragement.
“Good girl, keep going, I know you can do it, take your time, enjoy it, love it, suck it”. I did, I did all those things and more. When I couldn’t take anymore, I slowly released him before attacking his balls, sucking, licking them. They were bloody big as well but more manageable than his cock.
I kept pumping his shaft and noticed he started to rock backwards and forwards in rhythm with my movement.
Yes, I thought I’m getting him there now. I moved back to the tip of his cock, his pre cum was dripping onto the floor now. Not wanting to waste any my tongue snaked out and caught a drop as it descended from his tip. I moved over the head to tongue up the rest as it seeped out of his slit.
As I pumped his cock with my hand, I moved the shaft further into my mouth it was maybe a tad easier this time, but my eyes were still watering. Not sure if I was daydreaming but I missed the first tell-tale signs of lift off. Edward grabbed my head and held me in place as the first spurt hit the back of my throat, then another. I dug my nails into his hands to get him to release my head. He yelped and his hands jumped away giving me the chance to take back control. The third spurt went everywhere but by the fourth he was back in my mouth as the earlier cream shots descended into my stomach.
The volume was slowing now so I gently teased the remaining cream from his tip before cleaning up from number three. I do like things to be tidy and waste not, want not.
He finally slumped back on the sofa. Oh, dear I noticed another big wet patch on the seat before he moved to a drier part. I was still intrigued by that lovely cock so continued to give it little kisses and sucks as it gradually reduced in size.
I finally scrambled to my feet, my brain getting back to a sense of reality at what we had done and wondered what was going on in other parts of the house. What would they all think? Where was my husband? How the hell do we explain all this?
Edward and Charles looked relatively relaxed. To my astonishment Edward went to a cupboard on the wall and found a spare pair of trousers. Who the bloody hell has spare trousers in a library? God, these two must have been boy scouts they were prepared for every eventuality.
In all the excitement I hadn’t really noticed Charles apart from him providing his ancillary services, but it didn’t appear, to put it bluntly that he had been wanking while he was watching our little performance. That surprised me to be honest, especially when I had heard the heavy breathing earlier.
As if reading my mind, Edward whispered.” He’s one of life’s watchers, a voyeur. Quite happy, knows his role. We’ve had some good times, always good to have someone with a clear mind when things get a little heated. You didn’t mind him watching, did you?”
To be honest I was too busy concentrating on cumming and getting Edward to do the same, but I could see Edward’s point, Charles didn’t come across as a threat in anyway, didn’t interfere, just enjoyed the show, I guess.
“No, it was fine, added to the excitement I think probably be able to give you a better answer later when it’s all sunk in.”
“Good, are we sufficiently decent to rejoin the others? Won’t be as exciting but I can’t be seen to neglect my guests.”
Edward unlocked the door, and we moved through the rooms back to the music. “Leave it to Charles and just follow his lead,“ whispered Edward. The music was still loud, and my husband was dancing close with our hostess Yvonne (well as close as he could, with her large chest).
Charles explained to a few people that I had felt unwell and been sick, so they needed to clear things up so best to keep out of the library until things were sorted. His calm demeanour and sincere voice almost had me believing his explanation. The guys popped through to the kitchen before returning with cleaning equipment and some air freshener before going back to sort the den of iniquity, presumably cleaning away any obvious signs of our illicit activity. I was surprised they even knew where the cleaning products were kept! I imagined they normally had people in do so such menial tasks but perhaps needs must. Maybe there was a limit to the openness of Edward and Yvonne’s relationship or at least how much they wanted certain guests to know about.
I stood about trying to look as if I had been ill rather than a woman who had just had a series of mind-blowing orgasms and then as a bonus got the cream from the font of the party hosts fat cock.
My husband finally seemed to drag his eyes away from the Yvonne’s cleavage and came over to me. I spun him the tale according to Charles and I think he then felt a bit guilty about leaving me (well I hoped he did). I asked after Yvonne’s cleavage, and he mumbled something incoherent before adding, “I am just trying to be friendly. They are worth keeping on side you know, Edward and Yvonne, people who can open doors for us, introductions and the like.”
Well, that was good to know. I had just sucked him off so that should be opening barn doors for us! I smiled; “don’t worry I’m not cross. I was sitting on Edwards lap don’t forget.” He leant in for a kiss. I hesitated; I wonder why! Then our lips met, briefly, I hoped that the expensive wine had enough aromatic qualities that it could mask the smell and taste of cum. I moved away quickly saying I needed the ladies, not wanting him to see my guilt-ridden face.
Not long after my return I suggested we should head for home. Edward and Charles had returned from their Molly Maid cleaning duties and after thanking everyone for a simply lovely evening we made for the front door. I was briefly accosted by Edward as he offered me his business card and suggested I give him a call in the week so we could catch up now that we were ‘slightly better acquainted’.
Not sure that was a good idea, but a vision of his cock did make me wonder. If nothing else, I had a different view of the Fat Controller to the one I had before we arrived.
