“Now let me get this straight,” Harvey said, closing his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “The drink you said was egg whites and coconut was actually some fellow’s semen?”

“It sounds so clinical when you call it that. It was some fellow’s cum, Harvey,” Delilah growled like a panther. “His hot fucking cum. I milked it out of his stiff cock and then drank it all, right in front of you.” She paused to gauge Harvey’s reaction. Noticing a twitch in his pants, she continued. “It gave me such a thrill, doing something so naughty, and I think hearing about it is giving you a thrill as well.”

“Nolo contendere,” Harvey chuckled. “I have to admit, after our anniversary dinner, I’ve been thinking about you being with other men.” He paused. “Was that your first time, on New Year’s Eve, or…” he trailed off and waved his hand to indicate the crowd of people in the room.

“Have there been others besides that waiter?” Delilah finished her husband’s question. “Yes, a few.” She began ticking off a list on her fingers. “I frenched a bellhop, an elevator operator, a taxi driver…” She furrowed her brow as she tried to remember more, then decided that Harvey didn’t need to hear every detail. “Well, in any event, it began in October when you were in Locarno observing the negotiations.”

“Well, that’s ironic,” Harvey interjected. “While I was in Switzerland trying to help keep the Weimar Republic from being humiliated by the French government—”

“I was humiliating you by frenching other men.” Delilah completed the mirthless joke. Was that actually ironic, she wondered? It seemed more like an unfortunate coincidence in her selection of words. Maybe she should stop calling it frenching and call it blowing instead. Steeling herself, she continued.

“I was lonely and feeling sorry for myself. I was feeling old and frumpy and unattractive. Closer to forty years old than to thirty-nine. Then one day a man made a suggestive comment and I decided to show him…’ Delilah trailed off and looked at the floor. “It made me feel alive again, knowing that I could get a young man excited. It gave me power. I shouldn’t have done it, but once I started I couldn’t stop. Honestly, I didn’t want to stop. And then afterwards, I knew I should have felt terrible, but I didn’t. I felt elated, like a new person. And I wanted to keep feeling that power.” She paused and looked at Harvey out of the corner of her eye. “I don’t suppose you’ll forgive me?”

“So, just frenching? Or…”

Delilah decided to save blowing for another time. “Yes, just frenching.”

“And just men in service occupations? Bartenders and redcaps and such?” Harvey the economist saw a glimmer of hope where Harvey the husband might not.

“Yes, of course. None of our acquaintances.”

“Until Lloyd Campbell, that is.”

“Yes, Lloyd was the first person whom we knew…” Delilah struggled to find the right word.

“...intimately.” With a wry smile, Harvey supplied the missing description. “Well, I can understand that. Lloyd is a handsome young man, and you and I were both very worked up when he arrived.” He kissed his wife on the forehead and then looked into her eyes. “I love you, Mrs. Davenport. You’re a beautiful woman. Any man would be lucky to have you.”

“I love you too, Mr. Davenport.” She kissed him full on the lips, much as she had done on New Year's Eve after drinking Peter the waiter’s thick load.

Something about the kiss tickled Harvey’s brain. “Hold on a second,” he began, slowly stroking his gray beard. “You and Daphne each drank a glass of the, uh, not-coconut cocktail.” He looked at her, waiting for an explanation.

Delilah knew there was no way out. “Oh. Well, yes. I was hoping you wouldn’t put two and two together.”

“So Daphne…” Harvey prodded.

“Daphne was also, ah, servicing a young man that night. That was the first I knew about her, ah, activities,” Delilah added. “I was as surprised as you when I found out.” Although, she thought to herself, the skill which Daphne displayed made it clear that she had gained quite a bit of practice beforehand.

Harvey shook his head. “Well, I’ll be.”

“You’ll be...?”

Harvey, with a gleam in his eye, leaned in and whispered, “I’ll be watching you suck some cocks tonight.”

Delilah, thunderstruck, felt a hot flash in her pussy and felt her nipples hardening. She pulled back to look Harvey in the eye. “Really? Here?”

“Why not?” he dared her.

“Oh, I’m not arguing,” she said with a laugh. “I just want to be sure everything is copacetic with you.”

Harvey grinned and turned to survey the room. “Are you thinking the waitstaff, or someone we know?”

“Hmm,” Delilah mused. “Perhaps not anyone you need to work with; that could make it look like I’m trying to curry favor.” She scanned the room and eventually noticed the musical instruments on the bandstand.

Turning to Harvey, Delilah indicated what she saw with a tilt of her head. “The band just took a break; what do you say we go find them before they return?”

Harvey nodded slowly as he thought back to earlier in the evening; the band had included clarinet, cornet, trombone, banjo, and tuba. One, two, three, four, five. By golly.

He shook his head to snap himself back to the present. “Uh, yes. Shall we?”

After a few minutes of searching, they found the band in a medium-sized salon down the hallway, which was furnished with some side tables and easy chairs. They were stubbing out cigarettes and putting on their jackets.

Delilah spoke up. “Just a minute, I have a request.”

The band leader replied “Sure, ma’am; we were just headed back on stage. But no Irish ballads; we were hired to play jazz tonight.”

Delilah wasn’t interested in any Erin go Bragh tonight. More like Erin go Braless, she thought wickedly. “Oh, I have a more special request,” Delilah said in a tone about an octave lower than her usual register.

Shrugging the large woolen shawl from her shoulders and handing it to Harvey, she revealed her dress in all its glory. Or, rather, the dress revealed Delilah in all her glory. The emerald green dress had a deep V-neck and unbelievably narrow shoulder straps. Her unsupported breasts were full yet buoyant, and all five—no, six, make that six—men in the room were flabbergasted at the sight of them.

The shortest of the musicians, whose eyes were more or less level with her chest, was the first to speak. “Ma’am, I think you may be catching cold.”

Delilah laughed and looked down at her nipples, which were hard and prominent. “Catching cold? The only thing I want to catch is your hot cum, all over my big soft boobs.” She raised her head and looked at each of them in turn. “All five of you. How does that sound?”

“It’s music to our ears!” one of them quipped, and the others laughed.

“All right, then.” She turned to Harvey. “Dear, please fold my shawl so I can kneel on it.” As he got to work, Delilah turned back to the band. “Now I’m going to take turns sucking your cocks, and I will do my best to have two in my hands at all times, but you may need to figure out a rotation.”

“That shouldn't be a problem, ma’am. We're comfortable playing together, and I know when to back off my horn and let the clarinet or trombone take over,” one of them observed. The cornet player, as it happened.

Delilah beckoned him closer as she slipped off her shoes and settled onto the shawl. “All right, so you’re the horn player. I'll call you Horny. Now let’s see your dick!”

Horny tore open his fly and whipped out his stiff cock. Delilah's eyes lit up as she reached out and guided it to her lips, her gaze going cross-eyed as the livid purple head drew closer. The other musicians snapped out of their trances and began furiously yanking their pants down and their dicks out.

Just as she was about to slide her mouth over the mushroom head of Horny’s meat stick, two of the men stepped forward and said “Banjo here!” and “Clarinet!”

Delilah acknowledged them with a smile and said “I can’t think of nicknames for you right now, but I’ll gladly jerk your cocks.” She worked up some saliva, spat a gob into each palm, then took a stiff dick in each of her delicate hands and began pumping slowly. Returning her attention to the cornet player, she sank her warm, wet mouth onto his waiting hard-on.

“Oh, shit!” he yelled. The bandmates standing on either side of him were speechless, watching this gorgeous older woman slide her slippery fists up and down their rock-hard shafts while moaning around a mouthful of engorged cock flesh. The other two musicians—trombone and tuba—were standing back, watching, slowly stroking their dicks as they inflated to full size.

After a couple of minutes, Horny pulled his dick out with a pop and motioned for someone to take his place. The one with the shortest and fattest cock stepped forward, declaring “Tuba.”

“Mercy me, that is the thickest cock I have ever seen!” Delilah exclaimed. “It looks like a sweet potato! Does everyone call you Tuber?”

“We will from now on!” somebody cracked.

Still massaging the two cocks with her hands, Delilah stretched her jaw and wiggled it from side to side in an attempt to loosen it up. Then she extended her tongue and flickered it to signal him. Needing no further invitation, Tuber took another step closer and began feeding the tip of his cock into Delilah’s open mouth. She licked the underside of the head, tickling his frenulum and slathering her saliva on his fat cock. Her cheeks stretched as her jaw relaxed, affording Tuber’s thick dick more room in her mouth.

Distracted by this endeavor, Delilah had slowed and then stopped her pumping motion with her hands. Realizing this, the banjo and clarinet players picked up the melody and began pistoning their hips forwards and backwards, providing the motion and allowing Delilah to simply hold her hands in place in the air. She continued sucking and licking the thick cock in her mouth, moving her head forwards and backwards with short strokes that became longer as she became accustomed to its size.

The trombone player stood and watched all this for a moment, then turned to Harvey and whispered something in his ear.

Harvey laughed and said “I’d say give it a try!” Addressing the four men crowded around his wife, he said “Fellows! Your bandmate needs you to clear some space.” They looked at him quizzically, but stepped aside to give him room.

The fifth musician presented himself to Delilah and declared “Trombone.”

She looked at his long, thin prick. “Naturally, I’m calling you Boner,” she smirked.

“Naturally. Now, ma’am, I’ve been waiting patiently, and I think I deserve a reward.”

“Oh, is that so?” Delilah challenged him, but caught the look in Harvey's eye, indicating that she should play along. “What did you have in mind? I’m not getting up off this shawl,” she added, hinting that he wasn't going to be getting close to her pussy.

“That’s just fine. Now, with your permission, I would like to pull down your dress and fuck those creamy tits of yours until I explode. What do you say?”

Delilah couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and she couldn’t believe how much it turned her on. Her pussy had been dripping slowly but now let out a gush.

“Well,” she pretended to think it over. “You certainly have been patient, and we should probably wrap this up so you fellows can get back to the stage.” She turned to her husband. “Harvey, get me a glass of champagne now!” Harvey dashed out of the room, eager to please and also not wanting to miss what was sure to be a grand finale.

Delilah sat up straight and tall and gave Boner a provocative look. He reached down, hooked his long thumbs into her thin shoulder straps, and peeled her dress down, exposing her incomprehensibly beautiful boobs. She hocked a wad of spit between them and grabbed them in her hands, rubbing them up and down to smear the spit all along her tantalizing cleavage. Boner took a deep breath, then slid his slim pecker up from below, splitting her magnificent tits with his dick. He pounded away at her chest, his long cock sawing up and down, up and down, with the pink crown threatening to sock Delilah on the chin with each thrust.

Harvey returned, out of breath, with a glass of champagne. Now that her husband was back to witness the events that were unfolding, Delilah tilted her head down and opened her mouth so that the head of Boner’s boner entered her warm and waiting mouth once, twice, a third time...

“Oh fuck!” he shouted, and Delilah clamped her mouth down on his cock as wave after wave of hot jism shot out of his garden hose of a cock. She held it all in her mouth and waved for Harvey to bring her the champagne. When he held the glass out to her, she leaned over and spat the mouthful of cum into the champagne, making it fizz and boil. “Hold onto that,” she instructed. She gave Boner a small peck on the peckerhead and then addressed the room.

“I said I wanted all of your cum on my tits, but I couldn’t resist giving Boner a little bonus,” she said with a giggle. “Now let me suck each of you off, quickly. I want you all to be stroking your cocks so you’re good and ready when it's your turn!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“All right, Reed,” she said, motioning to the clarinet player. “Get over here and let me blow some hot licks on your licorice stick.”

“Holy hell,” was all Reed could muster as he waved his dick in Delilah’s face. She took his stiff cock in her mouth and gave him a frenching he would never forget.

“Oh fu-uck—”

“On my tits, goddamn it!” Delilah shouted, grabbing Reed’s dick and beating it furiously. He exploded all over the front of her dress and her exposed alabaster bosoms.

“Next man up!” she called. The banjo player stepped up. “Oh, what am I calling you… Longneck? Stringbean?” He did have a rather long penis, which was twitching and jumping as he guided it to her eager mouth. After half a minute of intensive cocksucking...

“Fuck! Oooh—”

“That’s it, Stringer!” Delilah pounded his pecker until he groaned and shot his thick load on her huge white boobs and her midsection.

“You fellas are going to ruin my dress if you keep this up,” she observed. “Who’s next?” The cornet player had been out of action the longest, so he came forward to present himself.

“All right, Horny, let’s do this.” Delilah inhaled his throbbing cock and ran her bright red lips up and down the shaft, scraping his balls with her matching red fingernails until she heard the inevitable...

“Ah, fuck!”

One spurt shot into her mouth before Delilah managed to pull his spasming cock out and aim it lower while it riddled her chest like a tommy gun. She shook her head in disbelief.

“All right, I guess it’s time to mash the Tuber. Get your big fat cock over here.” The tuba player strode up and continued stroking his dick.

“Good idea,” Delilah encouraged him. “You keep beating your meat, and I’ll work the head.” Working together, they soon established a rhythm, which became more frantic until—

“Oh, fu— oh!” he gasped.

“You couldn’t even get the word out of your mouth!” Delilah teased him as she worked his big hog with both hands. She was rewarded a few seconds later with a splatter of sizzling hot cum all over her dress and her fat, slippery tits.

Delilah looked around the room. The five musicians were in various stages of recovery, leaning on the furniture or pulling up their pants and securing the buttons. She then turned to Harvey, who had watched the proceedings in amazement and was standing to one side, seemingly in a trance, holding her glass of champagne.

Or, as it turned out, his glass of champagne.

“Drink it,” Delilah ordered.

Harvey hesitated only for a second, then swirled the contents of the glass and drank it down. He slammed the glass onto the table beside him, feeling giddy. Was it from the alcohol, or from the fierce excitement of drinking the slimy cum that his wife had spit out of her filthy cocksucking mouth?

No one spoke for a minute, everyone taking in the view that would be seared into their memories for a lifetime.

“Well, sir, ma’am,” Horny, the band leader, began, “we sure had a grand time tonight, but we must be getting back. I only hope that we haven’t upset the hostess, Mrs. Malone, by taking such a long break.”

Delilah pulled her wet dress up and repositioned it over her sticky tits. “I certainly enjoyed blowing your horns, boys, and it would be a shame if you didn’t get paid tonight because of it. Harvey, maybe you could help them out?”

The same thought had occurred to Harvey, who fished his billfold out of his pocket and counted out five black and white $50 bills, while Ulysses S. Grant gave him a series of five unsteady, disconcerting looks. Harvey quickly flipped the bills over to the green side and saw the female embodiment of Panama in a pale gown similar to his wife’s, smiling coquettishly and leaning on one elbow as a merchant ship steamed up from the ocean on the left and a battleship steamed up from the ocean on the right. Politicians, Harvey muttered to himself.

Delilah relieved him of the bills and handed one to each of the musicians with a kiss on the cheek as they filed out of the room.

“Mercy me, my dress is a complete mess,” she said, looking down at herself.

“I’ll get your coat and then we can slip out and go home. You stay here while I go find Daphne and tell her we’re leaving.”

“I hate for her to see me like this, but I suppose she wouldn’t be surprised.”

“I’ll tell her you need to go home because of something you ate,” Harvey said with a wink.

“I suppose that’s true,” Delilah laughed. “Thank you, dear.”

“It’s no trouble whatsoever. I’ll be back soon, and when we get home, I’ll help you get cleaned up.”

“Oh, you can count on it.”

Harvey gave his wife a quick kiss and then left the room. Delilah picked up her shoes, crossed the room, and sank into a large, overstuffed chair that faced away from the door. Gazing out the window at the twinkling lights of the city, she felt the corners of her mouth curl into a smile. Her fortieth birthday was coming up in three weeks, but she no longer feared that milestone. In fact, she was looking forward to it. The impromptu jam session with the band had just given her an idea for a birthday surprise… for Harvey.