My husband, James, and I have hosted an annual Fourth of July BBQ and house party for as long as I can remember. It’s a tradition that brings together friends, family, and acquaintances, and each year becomes livelier as fresh faces join us.
About five years ago, I started noticing a curious trend: James would disappear toward the end of the night, often with one of the guests he’d personally invited. We’ve always had an open understanding about our private lives, but this was the first time I saw him indulging so close to home.
The woman was a grocery store clerk we had met only a week earlier. She was short and slim, with brown hair tied up in a ponytail, matching brown eyes, and juicy mauve lips. She smelled of sweet, flowery perfume and wore a plaid button-up flannel with jeans that gave her ass its own zip code, all tied together with a green apron. A name tag pinned to her chest read, Sierra. From the way James looked at her, it was clear he’d already made up his mind—his intentions were never hard to read.
It was hardly a surprise to see James leading Sierra upstairs at our party that night. My pussy tingled with curiosity as I quietly followed them, stopping just outside the guest bedroom. The antiquated brass doorknobs in our house have small skeleton keyholes, perfect for peeking through.
As I pressed my ear to the keyhole, their muffled voices reached me, thick with desire. A rush of unexpected excitement surged through my body, igniting a hunger I hadn’t anticipated. I needed to see what I was hearing. This perfect slut wasted no time taking my husband’s huge cock down her throat with ease. Every bob and gag made my pussy wetter and wetter.
Sliding my panties to the floor, my fingers eagerly explored my pussy, plunging deep in the same rhythm as my husband’s long, slow thrusts in Sierra’s pretty throat. I’d come in a matter of minutes and returned to the party flushed with adrenaline, a newfound hunger stirring inside me.
Fast forward to this year’s party. As the BBQ portion wound down and the drinks flowed, I felt the familiar buzz of excitement surging through my nether regions. The music grew louder, and I found myself dancing with friends, losing track of time.
When I surfaced for a drink, I noticed James was missing. I suspected he was upstairs with one of his special guests. Slipping away from the crowd, I crept up the stairs to confirm my suspicions, hung my panties on the guest room door—a playful signal—and texted Patrick.
Patrick was a colleague and close friend; someone I trusted implicitly. He was charming, fit, and had a magnetic energy I couldn’t resist. We had shared stolen moments before, but never under circumstances quite like this. My message was simple: “Fourth of July party at my place. Bring your A-game.”
His reply came almost instantly, describing his enthusiasm with a smiling heart-eyes emoji, which left no doubt in my mind.
Not long after, Patrick arrived. I spotted him weaving through the crowd before his arms slid around my waist from behind. He pressed his body close, falling into the rhythm of the music.
“You look delectable, Janie,” he murmured in my ear, his breath warm against my neck.
I leaned back into him, smiling. “Hi, Patrick.”
The music carried us and the tension between us built with every movement. His hands roamed subtly while I danced my ass against his growing cock. Once his fingers discovered my nakedness under my dress, Patrick moaned.
“Fuck, Janie.” Patrick’s voice was thick with desire as he slid his fingers between my slippery slit.
Unable to contain the fire that’s been ignited between us, I led Patrick downstairs to the basement, away from the party’s noise. The moment we reached the secluded space, Patrick swiftly picked me up into his arms, pressed my back against a wall, and kissed my lips hungrily.
My dress slid up my thighs, revealing my bare, dripping wet pussy as I wrapped my legs around his waist. While Patrick unfastened his belt and allowed his trousers to drop to the floor, our kiss grew hotter—the energy as raw as it was intimate.
I hadn’t noticed Patrick’s fingers tangled in my hair until he tugged it backward, pulling my lips from his. He made sure to keep my gaze as he plunged his throbbing cock deep in my pussy. My chest heaved as Patrick filled, withdrew, and thrust into me repeatedly. Looking me in the eyes, he licked his thumb and rolled it over my sensitive nub in circles.
“Fuckkk… Patrick… I’m going… to come!” I managed to get out between the loud moans that filled the room.
"Not yet, Janie,” Patrick growled as he turned and laid me on my back across the poker table.
Inside his trouser pocket was a tiny vibrating wand that he quickly switched on and drug across my nipple and down my belly before resting on my swollen clit. I shuddered at the feeling of the vibrations against my sensitive nub. Holding the wand steady on my clit, Patrick reentered my welcoming cunt and fucked it senselessly. The most delicious heat flushed over my body as he fucked me.
“Patrick, please! I… need… to come,” I begged, thrashing against the poker table, unable to hold back the powerful orgasm Patrick teased me with.
I felt Patrick’s body tighten as the roughest guttural noises erupted from his throat. He was going to come, too. Between his fat-headed cock pulsing deep inside me and my hard nipple Patrick rolled between his fingers, my body was heavy with intense pleasure.
“Now, Jamie! Come for me while I pump you with my seed,” Patrick grunted while spraying his warm cum deep in my fertile womb before collapsing on top of me.
We’ll never forget that night—a moment of indulgence and abandon that felt both thrilling and liberating. When we finally rejoined the party, our shared smiles spoke volumes, though we kept our secret to ourselves.
