Mart 25, 2021

The Show Must Go On

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I woke up grumpy (with a headache, I might add) after dreaming about fucking and fucking and fucking a tall, wiry man as we were lying on a grassy median strip…in the middle of a four-lane highway.

It was a great dream. Madonna was in it somewhere. The Dream-Man looked just like an older version of my beautifully blonde high-school sweetheart, only Dream-Man was taller and more wiry and he had better abs…I remember this because Dream-Man had his undershorts on but no shirt, and his long dick was snaking out of his boxers and into my cunt. And, I had a feeling he was much too young for me, so I asked him how old he was.

He spoke to me in dream language and proudly told me he was 25 years old. However, no matter how often he asked, I refused to tell him how old I was, because I was 60. And, that part of the dream was true in my real, waking life.

Yes, my friend, it was such a hot dream for a 60-year-old woman like me. It was so hot that I didn’t want to wake up. I kept going back to sleep to finish, grinding my pelvis against the down comforter, because I couldn’t quite come. I was so close. I was almost there. I was breathing heavily.

The big, solid Dream-Man was growing in stature and forming beads of hot sweat as he pounded away as hard as any 18-year-old boy beating off in front of a porn download, and there were Hispanic men around who were pretending not to watch us.

But, someone kept trying to pull me away from my orgasm. Not yet. Five more minutes. Not yet…please.

It was Randy. Randy kept trying to wake me up. How dare he? I was having the sexiest wet dream of my life and Randy wouldn’t let me finish. Damn you, Randy.

Time to Get Up:

“Get out of bed right now or I’m going to cancel everything, Cookie.” No. Please just give me five more minutes. Can’t I get up in five minutes?

“No. Get up. It’s time to get up.”

Randy always called me Cookie when he wanted something from me, and right now, he wanted me to wake up. It was time for me to get up, have breakfast, shave my pussy, take a shower, and go meet a man named Carlos for a threesome…somewhat in that order.

No big deal. Just another Friday of smut-filled lust.

Well, fucking a man I hardly know is not something I do every day, but this was not the first threesome that Randy and I had consummated with Carlos. We had done the wild thing as a group…just seven days before.

Thank God it was going to be Carlos again, the same man I had banged before…but I couldn’t believe I had agreed to do this again.

Should I have been nervous about fucking Carlos a second time? No. Was I? Yes. And, I had a good reason for being anxious. I could barely remember what happened during that first threesome.

I had vague memories…a wine-filled fog of two men and two vibrators. One machine in my cunt and one on my clit. Randy says that I was driving the second vibrator and Carlos was examining my box like an ob-gyn on steroids. And, I can hardly believe it, but Randy says that I lustfully sucked him off while Carlos slammed my pussy from behind with his woody-like stick. Well, I don’t remember much about that first three-way encounter, but Randy says that I had a damn good time and Randy has the pictures to prove it.

No, I was still dreaming. It was probably time to get up and get ready for yoga class. Or, maybe I was going to go to…oh my God…could it really be true? Was it really possible that in a little more than an hour and a half I was going to be playing doctor with two husbands…one mine…one not.

I was not feeling courageous about doing this. No normal woman over 40 could possibly get naked in front of a semi-stranger-with-a-penis during daylight hours.

Now, don’t get me wrong. The idea of two male animals tag teaming me was exciting. It was so exciting that I had dreamt about it off and on every night for the past week. And, dreaming about it was not enough. I had to do it again and again.

The problem was, and is, that I’m insecure about my body, and I don’t quite trust Carlos yet. How can you ever really trust a man? Or a woman…for that matter.

My Husband is Randy:

I have a feeling that there are going to be quite a multitude of men skittering in and out of my life…and in my upcoming stories…now that my husband and I have finally crossed the line from playful fantasy to sexual liberation, so I want to make it easy for you to remember my husband’s name.

If you’re from the UK, you won’t have any difficulty with this, because my husband’s name is Randy. And, for those of you in the US, the word “randy” means “horny”. Got it? My husband is Randy. All other names in my stories just represent clean, virile males with big, thick, juicy, slippery dicks and enough energy to take me down and fill me up.

Getting Ready for My Second Date with Carlos:

Carlos is tall and wiry and ferociously hung like the man in my dream. And, he’s also quite a bit younger than my husband and göztepe escort I, but even though my body was already juicing up in anticipation, my ego was freaking out.

What should I wear? What kind of makeup looks good with a baby blue teddy? Will this eyeliner make my wrinkles look deeper than they actually are? Should I wear a long necklace or will it become tangled during the sexual festivities? What about my hair? Should I wear it up? Should I leave it down? Should I wear the same shoes I wore last time or would that be tacky?

I swear. That’s what I was thinking.

Randy thought I was freaking out and running around like mad from the sexual tension. No. I was freaking out because my blush and foundation might make me look old. I was afraid that my nails would chip or that I wouldn’t get all the hair shaved off my legs. Or that I would fart at the wrong time.

Yes. It felt just like I was getting ready for a date.

The Show Must Go On

At that point, the coffee was starting to kick in and I was really waking up. I started asking myself if I could go through with this threesome-thing again, but I kept moving and I continued getting ready and I told myself that, “The show must go on.”

I wasn’t sure why I had agreed to do this again. Still, I must admit that I was excited and my pussy was dripping, but the whole fucking idea of this whole fucking thing was crazy. It was too crazy.

So, I told myself that I was an actress and I had a part to play. Yes, I was just another actress getting made up, just as if I were in some movie like Pretty Woman. All I needed was a copy of my lines. Would someone please give me a copy of the script, so I could follow it without thinking?

No, I wasn’t Julia Roberts.

I was Miss Kitty, the old-time hooker on Gunsmoke. Yes, this whole thing would be a hell of a lot easier if I had a Steampunk “Miss Kitty” outfit from the 1800’s. Then, I could become someone other than Cookie. I wouldn’t be me at all. I would be Kitty. So, I made a mental note to buy a garish outfit with a bustier and lace for next time… just in case I was ever crazy enough to go through with this again.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

However, at that point, I didn’t have any playtime, make-believe outfits, so I packed my blue teddy, some heels, a long fake pearl necklace, and some other props. At the same time, Randy was packing his own bag of props: three vibrators, some KY lube, a pack of condoms, and a set of spare batteries.

All shows need props…and my mind started wandering off into space. I started thinking about actresses and wondering if the mom on “Leave it to Beaver” ever had a threesome. They say that all actresses have to fuck a lot of people to get good parts. Maybe Mrs. Cleaver had to have a threesome with a couple of producers to get a great prime-time part like that. Wow, how many producers were there on a show like that? Could she deep throat a guy and take it up the ass…

Randy Could Tell I Was Stalling

So, my mind snapped back to reality when my pissed-off husband reminded me to get moving, as he yelled, “I’ll be waiting for you in the car.”

And, then, I knew it was time for the show to go on. So, I double-checked that I had everything in my bag. Yes, I had everything I needed…except courage… And the next thing I knew, I was in the car with Randy on the way to some unknown destination.

“Slow down!” I said. “I’m going to be sick if you don’t go a little slower around those corners.”

Randy was driving way too fast because he had a hard on and couldn’t wait to watch Carlos fuck me again. I was a little nervous and a little queasy, but it wasn’t like I was being coerced into playing along with Randy’s fantasy. It was my fantasy, too.

Randy kept telling me I didn’t have to do this if I didn’t want to. But, I did want to, even though it didn’t make sense.

I love bedroom play, but I couldn’t understand why a man would get an electrical charge out of watching another man screw his wife. Was it like watching porn? Was he “getting off” from showing off his “beautiful” wife…letting someone else in on the secret of how hot his wife was in bed? I mean, I can understand what I was getting out of it. What woman wouldn’t want to have a continuous orgasm for hours? What woman wouldn’t want to be loved by more than one man? What woman wouldn’t want to be loved and adored and fucked by a whole world of men?

Line ’em up, baby. Let them put me on a pedestal and kiss my feet.

Then, I’ll do them all.

Oooh. The thought of that made my carsickness stop. I had been mindlessly rubbing my clit through my jeans for the last few minutes of the ride. And, then we were there. At the hotel. In the middle of the day.

Who has a threesome in the middle of the day?

I always thought it would be something you did in the middle of the night, even though guys always seem to want to have the lights on, so maybe a daytime rendezvous istanbul escort made as much sense as anything else.

I was shaking a little, so I stayed in the car while Randy checked in. This motel just didn’t seem like the right place for a wild-west fuckfest. We should be having our tryst in an elegant, old midtown hotel with a lecherous doorman or we should be secreting ourselves into a seedy no-tell motel with hourly rates. This motel was a normal, family-style place. Oh God. This isn’t the way it was supposed to be happening. But, I quietly followed Randy to the room after he came back to get me.

Then, once I was settled into our little love nest, Randy went down to the parking lot to wait for Carlos.

Carlos, Carlos, Carlos:

If you, dear reader, are married to someone named Carlos, I can assure you it is not the same man. Carlos is a made up name. His real name is less romantic…much more boring. If you have a husband with a boring name, then you should be worried.

Anyway, my husband Randy came back to the motel room, followed by big, tall, hunky Carlos. And, I started laughing, of all things, because Carlos was wearing the same silly accountant-style shirt that he had been wearing the two other times I had been around him…once, when I first met him in a Mexican restaurant to decide if he was a wacko, and another time when we all “did it” in a big, king-sized bed the week before.

I didn’t tell anyone why I was laughing at Carlos and I have no idea what Carlos thought.

Maybe, Carlos was wearing his lucky shirt…or maybe he had ten versions of similar white-checked shirts that all looked the same.

It was not the sexy look I was anticipating from someone coming into a bedroom to fuck me, but somehow I stopped giggling and things started to feel intense and sexual as I looked deeply into Carlos’ blue eyes once again. At that point, I didn’t care what he was wearing. I just wanted him to take all his clothes off, and change from Clark Kent into Superman.

At that point, Randy started setting the mood, when he pulled out some stories he had written about my sexual encounters that happened during my early, wild-and-crazy years. My husband seemed to get a big kick about hearing things from my slutty past, and he wanted me to read the stories to Carlos, but I just couldn’t do it. So Carlos asked if he could see the stories, and then he started reading them out loud.

It was all too much for me. I went into the bathroom and changed into my sexy babydoll-teddy thing. I could hear Carlos’ voice through the door, but not his words. Then, after changing into my see-through lingerie, I put on a silk robe and a few accessories and slinked back out to where the guys were.

I found them staring intently at a computer. Randy had brought his laptop and was showing Carlos the photos of the first time I had fucked the two of them.

I didn’t know what they were so engrossed in, so I went over to the computer and saw a picture of two vibrators going into a naked, hairless cunt, with wide-opened labia that were as red as the lace teddy the woman was wearing…and, oh my god, that was a picture of me. Those were my fingers. Those were Randy’s fingers. Those were Carlos’ fingers. On a fucking computer. I turned as red as the lace in the photo and walked away, while the guys became more and more enthralled as they clicked through the warm-up slideshow.

Suddenly, Randy became super-horny and went into Super-Director mode. He put on some steamy music and told Carlos to dance with me, but Carlos didn’t need as much direction as he did the first time. The big guy immediately pulled me tightly to his body and started massaging my ass with both hands, while my husband sat nearby stroking his own crotch.

But, things weren’t progressing rapidly enough for Randy, so Randy jumped up and pulled down the top of my teddy, exposing my huge breasts. And, seconds after that my husband reached over and pulled down Carlos’ pants and underwear, exposing Carlos’ massive erection. And, at that point I felt hypnotized…compelled to touch that big beautiful cock with its taught skin and its massive superhuman-sized shaft.

That was the moment I remembered why I had agreed to try another threesome.

My skin was getting hot from the excitement of being so close to that penis. My whole body was becoming alert and aroused. I was back in the game… and I remembered why I liked Carlos. He had a gorgeous, long, thick, rock-hard dick. Who cared if he dressed like a nerd? Who cared if he had a personality of a… a… log? Log. That was the only word I could think of. His dick was as big as a log. A big, beautiful penis log. Bigger than my husband’s decently sized dick. And, Carlos had a hot, muscular body… just like the man in my dream.

My snatch was tingling. My hands were grabbing Carlos’ ass. My body was talking to me and I wasn’t talking back. I was ready for anything. I was beyond ready for anything. I kadıköy escort was hotter than anything…and I was in heaven.

I was glad I had agreed to do this again. And, I was not embarrassed anymore…well, I was, but not quite as much.

Then, things started getting wild right after Randy took off all his clothes.

Carlos was sucking my breast, stroking my clit, and fingering me to near ecstasy, when my husband suddenly jumped into the action, sucking on my other tit while applying lube to Carlos’ magic wand. Wow. It was so unexpected. I had no idea my husband would ever want to touch another man’s dick. And, Carlos didn’t flinch when Randy stroked him. I was right there, no longer the center of the action, but the extra stimulation of seeing my husband checking out another man’s cock put me right over the edge.

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Randy Gives Directions:

After I was done shaking, Randy said, “Time for you to suck our dicks.”

I was shocked, but Carlos put on a condom and 1I got on my knees and started pulling Carlos’ cock into my mouth (as much as I could). Then, Randy said, “my turn, so I went over to Randy and after a few sucks, Randy yelled, “I’m coming. I’m coming now. Take it. Take it!” and his ejaculation was so intense that almost passed out, pulling his squirting penis out and coming into my mouth, onto my face, onto my breasts, onto the floor, and just…everywhere.

That really got Carlos excited, and he said, “I wish I would have had the camera. That would have been a great picture.”

I had to leave to wash off my come-covered face and breasts, but I came back and Randy said it was Carlo’s turn to get a blowjob, but I couldn’t get more than 2-inches of his 8-inch cock into my mouth because his dick was so thick. So, as I sucked the head of Carlos’ cock, my husband stroked Carlos’ shaft and balls until we thought he he came, but we could not tell for sure, because he had a condom on.

Randy asked Carlos if he needed a fresh condom, but Carlos said he was good and he hadn’t come yet. Man, that guy had amazing will power. From what I’ve read, few men can hold back after another man comes. It seems to set guys off somehow.

Break Time:

We all took a short break because we were in sensory overload from the intensity of the last few moments. And, I went into the bathroom to get a cold washcloth for my face because I felt like was about to faint from all the excitement and all the orgasms.

Then, Carlos asked Randy, “What’s next?” Carlos is very good at taking directions. That’s why we like him.

My husband suggested that we all get into bed so that he and Carlos could massage my body from head to toe, while I stroked their cocks.

That was fine by me, but then I looked at the two guys and started laughing because they were totally naked, except for the fact that Randy had on white socks and Carlos had on black socks. Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee. So, I told them I wouldn’t get into any bed until they took their socks off. I wish I could have taken a photo of that image. It was so funny I almost had tears in my eyes.

How could two sexy men be so clueless?

They stripped off their socks so quickly, I decided to call them my two “slave boys”. At that point, I knew I had total control over them, and that was a highly erotic feeling.

So, there we were in bed, Slave-Boy Carlos on my right and Slave-Boy Randy on my left. And, according to my instructions, they started at my toes…mmmm. Then they massaged the arches of my feet exactly the way I told them to… yes, I had turned them into very obedient slave boys. When they worked their way up to my calves, I was really feeling relaxed and in charge, but at their mercy.

I figured no big deal, I’ve had sensual body massages before, but as soon as their strong hands got up to my pussy, they both started sucking a breast, and that alone almost brought me to orgasm… but Randy said, “Just like having twins” and we all started laughing once we got the nursing joke. But, we soon got back into sex mode when Carlos started fingering me, while my husband started eating me, and I just kept coming and coming for at least 15 minutes nonstop.

After they brought me off, my husband decided to fuck me, while Carlos vibrated my clit with his index finger and sucked one of my nipples. Wow. It was intense beyond words. I was barely able to take it all.

Then, Randy ran out of gas and told Carlos to fuck me, while Randy grabbed the camera to take quite a few close-ups of Carlos’ giant penis at the entry to my vagina, part way into my vagina, and all the way in my vagina.

Taking the pictures didn’t do a thing for me, but it turned on Randy and Carlos big-time. It was like some kind of weird male bonding. I thought they were going to high five each other at any second, but instead I felt Carlos’ penis start to swell inside of me, so it seemed as if he started to forget about the camera and started to put his focus back where it belonged – on his dick and my snatch.

I guess the whole thing rocked Randy’s brain so much that he couldn’t stand back anymore. He had to get involved and started sucking on my right tit. But, then he wanted to have more souvenirs, so he alternated between snapping pictures and sucking my nipples.

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