Showtime

Last week found L joining me on an impromptu trip to our favorite city in the U.S, New Orleans. Well, it was somewhat impromptu. We were intending to take a cruise out of New Orleans for our honeymoon, in conjunction with a work trip I had planned there, but we then decided to postpone the honeymoon cruise to December and I would do the work trip on my own.

That was short lived. No sooner had I landed in New Orleans than I was texting L back home to tell her that she simply had to be there, that being in the city that we felt such an affinity to without her just felt wrong, even if my sole purpose being there was for work. It did not take much encouragement, and 24 hours later, she was joining me for what we were classifying as an abbreviated pre-honeymoon.

We only had three nights to spend, and we knew for certain that one of those nights we would take part in some debaucherous activity as we had our last time to New Orleans, whether that be a threesome with an anonymous man in our hotel room or a visit to the local swingers club, which I never did post about it in full detail. We were excited by it because it would be the first time embarking on such a kinky encounter as husband and wife.

I went the direction of finding a third man to join us in our hotel room and posted an ad on Craigslist, that, between the pictures I posted and the explicit detail in which I described would happen, was inundated with emails. A majority of them were duds that didn't get the time of the day, but many took took the time to go into explicit detail themselves about what they would like to do. There were an abundance of cock pictures, and the more impressive ones I forwarded on to L while I was busy at my conference, so she could wonder and fantasize about what it would feel like to have one of her holes stuffed by an anonymous 9" cock (apparently quite effective, as she was not shy to describe how wet she was after receiving said messages).

So it would have been more than easy to secure a third for an evening of sharing, but as it turns out, our travels took us back to the swinger's club, Collette. Because quite frankly, I can easily secure a third to fuck her back home, but opportunities for clubs such as Collette are few and far between.

We found our way there easily, and dressed quite nicely for our evening out. Upon checking in, they still had us in their system from our last visit so we went through easily and made our way to the bar. Colette is a BYOB establishment, they don't serve liquor on premise with the exception of what you bring for them. We handed over our bottle of rum to the bartender and saddled up to the bar along with our fellow patrons.

It was a light crowd. Perhaps 10 of us at the bar? Mostly couples, with the exception of an odd looking solo male lurking in the corner who was creeping us out.

We had a drink. Then two. Then after the second one, we went upstairs to where the entertainment was.

And that was when we were surprised.

Turns out that we were there on Wicked Wednesday, and while I knew that to be the case, I was not aware of the details. Turns out Wicked Wednesday is the theme night for BDSM activities.

We. Had. Arrived.

In the main room there was an explicit BDSM scene playing out on the large screen TV while over in the corner a cross was set up and the on-side Dominant had a guest sub restrained while he worked her over with a few devices from his tool box while the rest of us observed. It was, by our standards, quite time. His flogging was gentle at best, and nothing was done that would come close to leaving a mark. Still, it was intriguing to watch.

Bored with the lackadaisical activity, we moved to another room, where two women were demonstrating quite lovely rope techniques. L and I have never gotten into the inner working of rope play, so it was fascinating to watch the artistic endeavors that go into such an activity. We watched this for awhile before boredom hit us again, and we wandered down the hallway.

Finding nothing else to observe, I decided we might as well put on a show of our own.

There were curtain-covered side rooms with beds along the hallway, and I grabbed L and dragged her into one and pushed her onto the bed, raising her dress at the same time. The spanking began instantly, and without hesitation, and most assuredly, loud enough to attract attention of those wandering nearby.

I had the curtains closed at first, giving us privacy, but then I decided that it was no sense of doing this without an audience, so I opened both the sheer curtains and the dark curtains, and our room and the activities occurring within were totally exposed. I kept up with the hand spanking, and then decided it was time for more, and minus a tool chest that the aforementioned Dom had, made good use of my belt. Lash after lash I struck L's ass with it, stopping from time to time for a cunt inspection, my fingers revealing a sheen from her moisture, even in the darkness.

We were watched. Some people stopped, others peeked in and kept going. I only noticed them peripherally, my focus on my sub and wife. She was writhing and moaning, a mixture of pleasure and pain, and with each lash of the belt, the was going deeper and deeper into subspace. At one point she begged me to hit her harder. At one point she begged me to use the buckle.

Our show as most definitely trumping the gentle show we had previously observed.

Lash after lash, and then I was in need of more, and I took my cock out of my pants and grabbed the back of her head and pulled her on to it, and she was sucking, frantically and urgently, and I knew we were being watched and that only got me harder, so I grabbed the back of her head even harder and fucked her mouth.

From there it went to more, and I pushed her back on the bed, and I was on top of her, and my pants were barely down from my ass, and I was inside her fucking her with ferociousness. She responded with moans and cries, not shy with her vocalizations, sharing her pleasure verbally for others to hear. There were, four, maybe five watching? I didn't care. My attention was on my sub. My wife. My pet. Fucking her, pounding into her, wanting her sounds to be louder, and when she came, they were louder, and I continued, slamming into her oh so AMAZINGLY wet cunt, and did I mention, we were being WATCHED, and then I came as well, hard, fast, and just like her, not  shy with the vocals.

Panting, gasping, I stayed on top of her. The watchers dispersed, giving us our privacy. The bed was soaked with cunt juices and cum. "Clean up on Aisle 4" my smart ass sub said.

We tidied up and exited our room. In the main room, a male sub was being whipped by a Domme. In the other room, activity had headed up.

We headed back to the bar.

We didn't stay long. L was still floating, still partly adrift into sub space, and the transition from our room to the loud noises of the bar were a bit of a shock. We had half of a drink and then left back to our hotel, which was only a few blocks away.

We crawled into bed, we talked about the night, and not much longer....

We were fucking again.

Minus the crowd.

Minus the show.

It was still pretty fucking good.

Afternoon Delight

We used to fuck at lunch time.

We used to always fuck at lunch time, because lunch time was the only time we COULD fuck. We met at my place, around the noon hour, secluded in the hills with a long winding driveway that gave us total privacy. I would usually pick up something from one of our favorite restaurants on the way there -- Mexican, Thai food, pizza from a dive bar that was friggin' awesome -- and we would meet for lunch, and then we would fuck, and go back to work, looking forward to the next day when we would hopefully meet for lunch and fuck again.

What's not to love about the lunch time fuck, especially when going back to work afterwards. Her with my cum dripping out of her and having to rush to the bathroom each time she sneezed and a substantial amount trickled into her stained panties; me with the sticky cock and the smell of her on me and I would, on occasion, sneak off into the bathroom and run my fingers along my balls just so I could smell her scent. And that secret. Of going into meetings, of interacting with my colleagues, smiling and being professional with them, all the time knowing what just happened an hour or so ago.

The fucking at lunch time.

We used to fuck at lunch time.

We still fuck at lunch time.

But not as often, but because now we can fuck in the morning and we can fuck at night. We can fuck whenever we want. Wherever we want.

We fucked at lunchtime today. L was home, I swung by after spending my lunch hour at the gym and wanting to grab a quick bite before going back to work. It is a blessing to live somewhere where everything is five minutes away. L had lunch waiting for me when I stepped in the door, and after eating, we stepped in the bedroom for a quick break before I went back to work. It was meant just as that, a break, to watch a few minutes of television and indulge with the 420 before I headed back to work.

Something happened, of course. L teasingly slid her breast out of her summer dress for what she called a gratuitous nipple shot. I said I had to go back to work. The first Superman movie, the one with Christopher Reeve was on, and it was around the moment that Jor-El was about to place his infant son in rocket to send him to earth that I took L's hand and placed it on top of my dress slacks, where something was stirring.

From there she was undoing my belt...unzipping my zipper...unsnapping my pants...pulling them down slightly, and then my briefs, where that said something that was stirring was straining at the fabric, and with the briefs pulled down, was there in all its glory and demanding...throbbing, I tell you!...for attention and service.

And service it she did, taking it in her mouth, my hand on the top of he heard, guiding her and controlling her, her actions not of the gentle and slow variety, but fast and with passion, with the talents of an exceptional cock sucker. On the screen Kal-El was heading towards earth, and whatever sounds the spaceship was making on its descent was masked by L's delicious slurping sounds.

And then...stopping. Just in time, actually. We did not do "anything" the day before and after 24 hours, I tend to, uh, get quite the "build up" and four years into this D/s relationship, L is still not entirely on board with the act of swallowing. She took her lovely mouth of me and then pulled my pants and briefs down even further, and then she was reaching under her sun dress and moving her panties off to the side (the panties I had chosen for her to wear before I left for work that morning), just enough to get access to what is needed, and as she held my cock with her hand, she lowered herself on me.

So tight. So incredibly fucking tight.

And good fucking christ, so incredibly fucking wet.

She lowered herself on me, and she rode me, leaning back, my cock hitting her at the magical spot, and I knew I was not going to last long given what her mouth had just gotten done doing to me, waited for her orgasm to hit, and hit it did, and she came, silently, since children were out in the near by living room. She came and she continued to ride me, and I thrust up myself at the moment of release, and came deep inside of her, spurt after spurt.

After she got off of me, I got up, tucked my semi-hard cock back into my pants, still with drops of cum dripping off of the tip. I told her how good she was, kissed her on the lips, told her I loved her and would see her in a few hours, and headed back to the off, exceptionally satisfied.

Oh, and L?

She took a nap. In our bed. As my wife.

We used to fuck at lunch time.

We still fuck at lunch time.

And it is so much better now.