Like most women, I have my fantasies. I am happily married, no kids, I love my husband and our sex life is very good. But I still have my fantasies. Soon after our marriage, my husband encouraged me to share them. He did the same. It turns us both on to the point of desparation, usually ending up with frantic fucking. But not always. Sometimes it ends with frantic masturbation. We are both content with that, I like to watch him wank and he loves me to do it for him. I have several favourite fantasies, some involving several men, some involving women, despite never having experienced lesbian sex. But Richard's favourite is the simplest, with me being fucked senseless by a good looking, well-hung stud, who blasts my cervix with spunk like it's being pressure-washed. My birthday was just a few weeks away. The big four-oh. Richard is three months younger. I knew that he had planned something special, I had been instructed to keep that weekend clear, we would be going away. On the Saturday, my birthday, we were collected from home by a chauffeur driven luxury car and driven in dark windowed, air-conditioned silence to our hotel. It was a short drive, the place was just out of town. I knew it only by reputation, it was not considered to be the best hotel, but it had the best restaurant. It was a spa hotel, after a light lunch I was delivered into the hands of the spa while Richard played golf. My treatment began with a massage. I stripped naked, showered and climbed onto the massage table, my modesty protected by a large, fluffy white towel. Surprisingly, the masseur was male. He was gorgeous, the epitome of my fantasy. Tall, tanned, dark, and best of all, with a thick ridge of flesh spoiling the smooth lines of his very tight shorts, all he wore except for a white T-shirt. Under the towel, my nipples erected and I could feel my lower lips moisten and spread. I was going to enjoy this. He introduced himself as Ross and told me to lie on my front. He began by pummeling and punching, not exacly the stuff of my fantasy, but it became more gentle, not exactly carressing, but it was highly arousing. My nipples were drilling into the massage table and I could feel my cunt leaking. I smiled to myself, my husband had arranged this, knowing it would excite me. If the intention was to turm me into a cock-devouring slut for later, it was working. "May I remove the towel?" Ross's deep voice shook me back to the present. Surely, without the towel, my gaping, oozing cunt would be on view? "Yes." I replied. Ross would have seen it all before, and with younger, prettier women than me and the skillful massage suggested that he would be purely professional. He carefully removed my last covering. He massaged my back, all the way down to my arse, but without touching my pucker, then my inner thighs, his fingers just missing my wet flaps. He had done the same with my top half, massaging my sides but not the tit-flesh pushed out by my prone position. A professional. "Would you like to turn over? Shall I turn away while you cover yourself again? Like hell. I'm not ahamed of my tits and I wanted his hands on them. But it was not to be. Again, he thouroughly massaged everything but the naughty bits. By the time he declared himself finished, I was truly gagging for it. The massage was followed by a visit to the hairdresser, then I was manicured and pedicured and finally had make up applied by a beautician. I felt like a movie star. The exit to the parlour was through the shop, where various beauty products were being offered, along with some of the sexiest undies imaginable. I succumbed. Richard was in the bar, the nineteenth hole, when I found him. "Wow, " he said. "Whoever you are, would you like a drink?" I declined, the drink that I needed would come out of the end of his just-sucked cock. With that whispered promise, I lured him away from his new-found friends and back to our room, where, promise fulfilled, I sucked his lovely cock. But he pushed me away before he came, saying; "I'm saving it for later." My disappointment was tempered slightly by him suggesting that I sat on his face while he drank from the cup that Ross had so skillfully prepared. Then he showered and dressed for dinner. He came out of the shower sooner than I expected and caught me modelling my new undies. "I'm going to take them off with my teeth later." He vowed. Dinner was out of this world, every morsel a treat for the senses. The wine was not bad either. We giggled our way back to the room. In the bathroom, I removed my dress and stood beforethe mirror. Not bad for forty. I agonised over whether go to him naked, or to leave something for him to take off. But he had seen it all now, the surprise element spoiled. I decided on naked except for high heels and the only one of my purchases that he hadn't seen, a stunning black lace negligee. Left undone. I swept out of the bathroom like a holywood star making her entrance. Richard was still fully dressed and not alone. With him was the masseur, Ross. Also wearing a suit. I tried to wrap the flimsy garment round me. Richard said; "From what I've been hearing, Ross has seen it all anyway. Ross is my gift to you, your fantasy come true, with my blessings and love." Really? He had asked this man to fuck me? And did I want it? "Two conditions, " Richard was saying. "I get to watch and you return the favour when it's my birthday." There it was. Not so much an eye for an eye, but a cunt for a cock. I looked at Ross. Oh I fancied him alright, but I had not been fucked by anyone but Richard for, what? Fifteen years? I let the negligee slip to the floor. Richard grinned and nodded at Ross. Ross disapeared into the bathroom. "Are you sure you want this?" I asked Richard. "Desparately," he replied, adding; "So much that I'll willingly forego the return match. Just enjoy him." Ross emerged from the bathroom, naked. I gasped. He was magnificent. The shorts and T-shirt had hinted, but what they hid was breathtaking. He was fit without being muscular, his tan extended all over. His body was hairless apart from sparse pubes. From beneath the bush hung his demolition kit, a cunt-destroying cock and a pair of wrecking balls. My knees gave way causing me to stagger. Ross caught me. He held me in his arms, pressed against his body as his cock swelled against me. I moved away. Oh my God! It was huge! He cupped my tits, lifting them, weighing them in his hands and bent to kiss me. I felt for his cock, encircling with my fingers. Or at least trying to, I could only touch fingers to thumb by squeezing it. He moaned into my mouth. I released it, broke the kiss and dropped to my knees. I wanted a closer look. The foreskin had retracted revealing the bulbous head. I kissed the tip then opened my mouth as wide as I could to take him in. I've had a few, quite a lot actually in my developing years, but never anything of this magnitude. I sucked him as well as I could, but I could feel my teeth scraping the shaft. He didn't seem to mind, oh-ing and ah-ing as I worked on him. He placed both hands on my face and pulled away, denying me a high protein snack for the second time that day. He led me to the bed, lay on it and invited me to queen him. I straddled his face, remembering my watching husband. He had stripped naked and was watching intently, erect cock in hand, moving slowly but not wanking. I smiled, he nodded, I lowered myself onto Ross's waiting tongue. Now it was my turn to moan, he was good. He scoured me from clit to arsehole, rimming it before returning to the main attraction, the stiff bud of my clitoris. I came very quickly, gushing juice over his handsome face. Still reeling from my come, I squirmed down his lean body until stopped by the bollard of his erect cock, fumbled for it, guided it to my entrance and lowered myself down onto it. Oh my, it seemed to just keep on going in. Ross began his thrusts, I leaned forward to allow my tits, swinging as he thrust, to brush his chest. He cupped my arse-cheeks and pulled me down onto him, sending his cock even deeper. His fingers strayed to the stretched rim of my cunt and tried to push in alongside his cock. He failed. Instead, he used my natural lubricant to insinuate a finger tip into my arse, I came again, screaming, my cunt clasping his still thrusting cock. He stopped his movements but held me impaled, I could feel his cock pulse inside me. Slowly he resumed his thrusts, but released his hold on my buttocks. I sat up slightly so that my body was away from his, he cupped my dangling tits loosely, now as they swung my nipples rasped against his palms. He was good, very very good. To my disapointment, he suddenly froze. I realised later that he was about to come and was trying to control it. Still with his cock inside me, he rolled me off, moving with me so that he was on top. He supported his weight on his arms, looking down at my face and tits, wet with sweat from our exertions. Then he began to swing his hips, slowly at first, driving his extaordinary weapon to where no other cock had been able to reach. He accelerated untill he was pounding me, causing me to cry out on every stroke, drips of his salty sweat dripped on my face. Then he gave an animal roar as his spunk spurted into me, filling me. He rolled off. It was over. There was movement beside the bed as Richard leaned down and kissed me gently, squeezing a tit. Then he moved to the foot of the bed and gazed at my still gaping cunt, Ross's spunk welling from it. He knelt on the bed, moved between my thighs and slid his cock inside my cum-filled hole. I came instantly, mainly from the thought of such a perverse but thrilling act. I had a mental image of Richard's cock displacing Ross's semen as he pushed inside. He remained very still, apart from the uncontrollable twitching of his organ, my cunt was still clenching around it following my mini-come as he entered me. It was too much for him. "Of fuck!" He moaned. His cock gave a jerk and his cum was pumping into me. I felt him soften and slip out, he rolled off panting. We lay side by side in silence, Ross's presence forgotten. In fact he wasn't present, he was dressing in the bathroom. The door clicked open and he walked out fully dressed. I instinctively covered myself. Ross said thank you and goodnight, then quietly let himself out. I could not stifle a giggle, soon we were both laughing like drains at the odd situation we were in. Richard pulled the duvet over us and took me in his arms. "Happy birthday," he said. "Did you enjoy that?" I said that I had, very much. "How was your sloppy seconds?" He laughed. "Too much for me, as you saw. I'm sorry I came so quickly, my plan was to fuck you all night long." I reached for his limp, sticky cock. "Then why don't you?" His cock stirred. Why not indeed? He felt for my cunt, paddling his fingers in the mess. "Ross was quite generous." He murmured. "Can you tell which is his and which is yours then? I teased. "On your knees slut," he ordered. "I'll have you from behind. " I obeyed, I like it from behind. Come to think of it, I like it all ways. He entered my slippery sheath in a single slow thrust, I groaned with pleasure to be full of him again. They he reached forward to the bedside table and I tensed when I realised that he intended to bugger me. I like it up the arse as well, provided I am in the mood, and I was certainly that. I flinched as he trickled the cold lube down my crack, then groaned again as he gently worked it in, my anus dilated to welcome his caress. He pushed a thumb inside to test my readiness, I had never been more so. Satisfied with his handiwork, he pulled out his thumb and put in his plum. It popped in quite easily, as always, what causes discomfort is the girth and length of his shaft as my body tries to reject what it believes to be an intruder. But Richard is gentle and the hurt soon becomes pleasure. I felt his balls touch as he reached full depth. As he began his movements, I reached down and pushed two fingers into my sodden cunt, feeing his gentle thrusts against them, then pulled them out to work on my clit. I like to time my climax to match his, for me, the ultimate orgasm. The next thing I remember was waking up cold, lying in a wet patch. I took a towel from the bathroom to cover the patch, pulled the duvet up and went back to sleep. We had a late breakfast then spent what was left of the morning together, in and out of the hotel's pool. After lunch, the car collected us for the journey home. It had been my best birthday yet, but foremost in my mind was my promise to return the favour. I had three months to arrange it.