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Fraternity Housewife

by David Witheld 6 days ago in relationships / erotic
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Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

We had talked to the guys, basically trying to make sure everyone would be on their best behavior when Friday rolled around. I called Paula after she said “yes” to Aaron’s invitation, and we talked for almost an hour. I suggested she bring an overnight bag because I was pretty confident the guys would be as smitten as Aaron and I had been, and we agreed to meet on Friday morning. I told her that we would have a girl’s spa day, on The Order’s (I was starting to think of it as The Order, complete with capital letters by then) credit card.

We met at the same spa where I had spent my pre-nuptial day. I was waiting in the lobby when she came in. I stood and kissed her, firmly, lovingly, not a simple greeting among friends but a kiss between lovers, and she kissed me back. It was a good kiss.

There’s a special intimacy about a day like that. We were naked in the steam room and then in the icy pool. Then in the hot tub and later being massaged, deeply, yelling occasionally.

And we talked.

By the time we finished our late lunch, the Surf and Turf for both of us with a glass of wine but nothing stronger, I knew her better than I had ever known any woman in my life.

As we were finishing up, napkins on our plates, I reached across the table and covered her hands in mine. “I don’t think of myself as a lesbian,” I said, holding her eyes with mine, “or even bi-sexual for that matter, but I REALLY hope this works out tonight because I can’t WAIT to bed you.”

She giggled and actually blushed but then, doing her imitation of that caricature voice you hear from time to time when a low-class hooker is introduced in high society, said, “It’s mutual I’m sure.” But the way she pronounced it, in a high, forced falsetto voice, was “It’s mewchewal, I’m shuah.”

We were both giggling as we left.

She parked next to my Mustang and pulled a small bag from the trunk of her oh-so-sensible Toyota Camry.

I swiped my key card and held up my hand for her to wait when I leaned inside and yelled - “Face the wall. Anyone who looks is cut off.”

I waved her in and as we passed through the great room to the staircase I was pleased to note every man facing the wall and, as far as I could tell, nobody peeked.

“Stay here,” I said after we were in my suite. I went downstairs where all nine of them were grouped around the foot of the stairs.

“Christ, guys, settle down or you’ll scare her off,” I said. “The clock on the wall says 6:08 p.m. I will present Paula at 7:00 sharp, so please have everything ready.”

The various responses were predictable. Mark’s Roman salute. Wayne dropping to one knee and intoning “if that is thy bidding my Mistress.” Heels clicked and “Jawohl.” I laughed and went back upstairs.

Paula was standing exactly where I had left her.

I giggled and said, “nervous.”

“I just hope I don’t throw up,” she said, which made me laugh.

“Paula,” I said, holding her eyes with mine, “this is a party and every one of those beautiful young men down there understands that ‘no’ means ‘no.’ You can always say ‘no.’”

She giggled at that.

“Becky,” she said, absolutely serious now, “it’s not that. I’m just,” and she wound down and I could see her eyes welling with tears.

I waited and she took a deep breath.

“I’m just afraid they won’t want me,” she managed.

I laughed and took her into my arms. “That,” I assured her, “is about the silliest thing I’ve ever heard.”

I released her and gently guided her to the full-length mirror on the closet door. I stood behind her, almost taller enough than her to see over her head, and said, “what do you see?’

“A fat girl,” she said instantly.

And that made me laugh again

I reached down and laid my hands on her hips. “Wanna know what I see?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said in a very small voice.

I let my fingers trace her face, lightly brushing her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks, her nose, her lips. “I see an outrageously cute redhead (I was taking a little poetic license here, her hair is more auburn) with a cute button nose,” I touched her nose lightly, “piercing brown eyes,” I brushed her cheeks under her eyes, “and a mouth I can’t wait to cover with mine,” and I lightly brushed her lips with a finger.

She started to say something but I touched her lips again, silencing her.

“I see a sexy woman with sexy tiny titties,” and I cupped her breasts, captured in a padded bra that made them damn hear bulletproof, “and hips that beg to be worshipped,” as I lightly traced my way down her waist to settle on her hips.

I shushed her again when she started to speak.

“And an ass that is absolutely fucking GLORIOUS,” I said, cupping and then patting that big caboose.

I stepped away and gently turned her with my hands on her shoulders.

“So don’t you worry sweety,” I conclude.

She stepped close and threw her arms around me, kissing me and saying “thank you.”

I held her briefly and then pushed her away.

“Now let’s get ready to wow them,” I said and then added, my hands finding her hips again, “unless you want a pre-party quickie.”

She looked at me speculatively but finally said, “I think we should probably get ready.”

I pouted and she giggled and kissed me.

“Later,” she said with a pretty good Groucho Marx eyebrow waggle.

“So whatcha got,” I asked.

She opened her little bag and got out one of those little black dresses every woman has, one of those dresses you can shove into a purse and it never wrinkles.

She shook it out and laid it on the bed.

Next out was a red peignoir, with a matching red teddy, one of those teddy’s with hose suspenders built-in, and red hose.

She stopped, looking at me.

I laughed and said, “tell me you have shoes to match.”

And she did. The last thing out was a pair of high-heeled sandals with fuzzy balls on the toe strap, bright red. What they call mules.

“Oh fuck yes,” I said, giggling, “but you’d better be ready for some serious sex if you wear that.”

She giggled and said, “promises, promises.”

“Tell you what,” I said, moving to my own chest of drawers and pulling out my outfit that would pretty much match hers only mine in black, “let’s give them a treat.”

She giggled again.

“Come on honey,” I said, starting to unbutton my blouse, “you wash my back and I’ll wash yours. We want to be clean and sweet smellin’.”

She giggled again but started pulling her top over her head.

It was interesting, undressing with her. I think men tend to be more casual about being naked around each other what with their gym classes and all. Given our lifestyle, I was more casual than she was, and I was openly looking.

She giggled yet again and said, “Jesus Becky, take a picture, it lasts longer.”

I laughed in turn and said, “you, my sweet, are worth looking at.”

And she was. Her breasts were small although she was hardly, as she liked to say, “boobless.” Round areolas, very pink, were topped by smallish nipples. As I watched they hardened and very distinct love bumps rose.

When she peeled off her slacks and pushed down her panties she was absolutely smooth.

“Someday I’ll tell you of the time I let them shave me,” I said, looking. Okay, staring.

She giggled and said, “my ex liked it so I dropped eighty-five hundred dollars making it permanent. Six weekly appointments with lasers and some sort of chemicals.”

“Well,” I said, kicking off my own jeans and panties, “you make me feel like a fucking gorilla.”

At that, she laughed, a hearty laugh, and it was her turn to stare.

“God,” she said, “if I had your boobs I’d be an hourglass.”

I laughed and said, “and if I had your hips, so would it.”

I took her hand and led her to the shower.

It was interesting. It was a first for both of us I think, but I enjoyed it. I think she did too. It was VERY sensual and a bit sexual too although I think pretty timidly on both of our parts.

As I was washing her pussy I was surprised when I found a ring.

“And what’s this?” I said, feeling it with my fingers.

“Oh God,” she sighed, “it’s my engagement ring.”

“Oh?” I asked.

She giggled and said, “he wanted to have my clitoris pierced but I wouldn’t allow THAT! But I did let him have the ring put in there and now I leave it as, well, I guess as a reminder.”

Finally, clean and dry, I said, “Now sit, honey, and let me make you even more beautiful.”

So she sat at my little makeup desk and I spent about 15 minutes. I didn’t need to do much, just highlight her already nice features. The lightest base and a touch of blush to highlight her cheeks, some teal eye shadow to bring her eyes out against her hair, and the reddest lipstick I had was about it.

“Your turn,” she said, so I sat. I felt like I was at a sleepover in seventh grade as she worked on me. Well, except we were both naked and fully developed ((giggles)).

“Okay,” I said, smiling, “let’s get ready to give them a treat.”

When she sat and lifted her leg to start one of the nylons on the gold ring peeked out.

“May I?” I asked, moving closer and bending down to look.

“Oh God,” she sort of moaned but she laid back on the mattress and parted her legs.

Her labia were full, nicely plump, and perfectly smooth. The ring was high on the right lip, a small gold ring.

“Damn,” I said, “I want one but you’d never see it in this jungle.”

She giggled and said, “oh Becky, you’re practically bald compared to what I was before the treatments.”

We finished dressing, well, costuming is probably a better term, with some mutual compliments and giggles.

I like to think I clean up pretty good, but she was an absolute vision. The red set off her pale skin and auburn hair. The teddy was opaque and yet hid nothing. The sheer peignoir was something you could read a newspaper through. Hell, I wanted her.

Fluffed, buffed, and ready, I went to the door and yelled, “AARON!!!!”

He appeared, almost instantly. Obviously, he had been waiting.

I opened the door wide and invited him in. He kissed me and then took the time to give Paula a careful review, deliberately looking her up and down.

“DAMN,” he said very softly.

I giggled and Paula blushed prettily.

“Okay my love,” I said, taking his arm, “present us.”

We made our way down the stairs, and I was not surprised to see the guys gathered at the foot. All looked nice, in their best party clothes, clean jeans or khakis, button-down shirts, hair combed. Something out of “Animal House” before the party gets out of hand.

“Wait,” I said softly and Aaron stopped.

“FRONT!” I called and Mark gave a Roman salute and came up the five steps to meet us.

“Mark,” I said, very formally, “this is Paula. Paula, Mark,” making introductions just like my mother had taught me.

He took her hand and kissed it, then met her eyes and said, “charmed.”

She giggled.

“Mark,” I said, smiling, “please make Paula at home and do the introductions. I have an uncontrollable urge to take this one,” and I squeezed Aaron’s arm, “to bed right now.”

He looked at me for a second, the question in his eyes, but then said, “I live to obey my beloved,” making me giggle.

He took Paula’s hand and said, “come, my vision in red, and let me introduce you.”

She looked at me with big eyes and I just smiled and said, “it’s your night honey.”

Then I sort of pulled Aaron’s arm, got him turned, and started back up the stairs.

Back in the room he turned and asked, “what was that all about?”

So I told him.

I had been thinking about it and thought this was the proper way to handle the introduction. Let the guys have Paula to themselves without me as a distraction or, for that matter, as a filter.

He grinned and said, very softly, “are you sure you never did this before.”

I giggled and said, “I’m certain.” Then I stepped close to him, my hands very light on his chest, my eyes holding his, and kissed him very softly.

“And besides,” I said, my lips brushing his ear, deliberately breathing out so my breath would be warm, “I can’t remember the last time I had a night alone with just you, my love.”

He reached around me, well, started to reach around me, but I stepped back and pushed him, gently, away. “No baby,” I said, my best simper on my face, “tonight let me do all the work.” I batted my eyes. “Please?” I added.

He smiled and held up his hands in surrender. “Have your way with me,” he said.

And I did.

I took a full five minutes just unbuttoning his shirt, kissing each square inch of skin I revealed. He let out little yelps when I nipped at his nipples, hard with his excitement. He squirmed when I probed his navel with my tongue. His breath caught when I traced across the delta of his public hair with my tongue before getting to my knees, and taking each foot in my lap to remove his shoes and then his socks. While I was down there I got his shorts down and off and kissed his scrotum and the shaft of his erection before touching the tip with my tongue.

I looked up, across his belly, from my position on my knees before him, and held his eyes as I slowly took him into my mouth, my lips holding, my tongue spreading saliva for lubricant, and then swallowing hard to get him past my gag reflex and accept his entire length into my throat.

I held him like that, my hands on his ass holding him to me as I swallowed hard, using my throat to gently masturbate him. I liked when he brushed my hair back so he could see my face.

When I felt him getting close I pulled off, slowly, feeling as he slipped out of my throat.

I stood and kissed him. “No hurry tonight baby,” I said, “I want this to be special since you’re missing out on Paula.”

He laughed and said, “the best possible dividend I can imagine.”

I helped him onto the bed, fluffed a pillow so he would be comfortable, and then put on my Music To Seduce Him By album.

As Julie London began her incomparable version of Cry Me A River, I started to strip for him. It was a slow strip, lasting through Peggy Lee’s Fever and then Ethel Waters’ version of Stormy Weather.

Finally naked I crawled up onto the bed with him, slapping his hands as he reached for me. “Stop it,” I said, “I told you, tonight I do ALL of the work.”

He smiled and put his hands behind his head, “I am yours,” he said.

I giggled and whispered in his ear, “I read about this once, I don’t even remember what it was in, but I’ve always wondered.”

He was smiling as I squirmed around and took the big toe of his right foot into my mouth, using my tongue like it was a cock. Then I squirmed around and leaned back, sitting up enough to lift my clitoral hood and take that toe into my pussy.

“Oh shit,” I said softly, working my hips, his toe fitting perfectly against my clitoris.

I bent and began using my breasts, lightly brushing his erection, my nipples like hard fingers.

My first orgasm took my breath. My back arched and I felt my mouth open in a silent scream as the pressure in my belly exploded. The release was sudden and wet.

“Damn,” he said softly.

By the time Aaron finished, deep in my pussy now with me on top still, as promised, allowing me to do the work, I was exhausted. Sweat was pouring off of me. My nose was running and I was drooling a bit. I don’t really know how long I had been at it. I had cum at least a dozen times, on his toe and his knee, masturbating while he watched, and then turning and cumming in his mouth in the classic 69 position as he was deep in my throat.

Finally, both of us completely spent, I went to sleep in his arms.


About the author

David Witheld

College degrees in teaching, history, and economics.

Veteran, Vietnam ERA but I never, EVER, put myself in the same league as those guys who went over there and did it. I was an Air Force analyst.

Retired now, and write for fun and profit.

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