With my husband, Ted, out of town on an installation job, I told my friend Gina that I thought I’d skip her party that Friday night, but she insisted I come, saying I had been working too hard trying to run our company with Ted away.

She argued that it would do me good to get out of the house for a few hours and relax with friends.

So I took a long hot bath, shaved my legs and underarms, then did my makeup and applied some perfume to my wrists. I told myself that this was a waste of time as I spritzed some scent on my curly bush. Ted had been away for almost two weeks, and my pussy wasn’t used to being neglected for anywhere near that long. I’d been so busy and distracted that I hadn’t even had a chance to relieve myself with one of my vibrators. I promised myself some sexy solo fun after I returned home from the party.

It was a warm, muggy evening, so I chose a nice casual cotton dress, slipping it on over a lacy bra and a pair of pale blue bikini panties. I’ve maintained my figure with diet and exercise, and still measure 34C-22-31 after 19 happy years of marriage. I donned a pair of white sandals, then picked up my purse and drove the three blocks to Gina’s home.

There was a good turnout, with about 15 couples in attendance, so there was plenty of chatter going on. Since I was driving, I drank sparingly, but I was soon having a great time and was glad I had let Gina talk me into coming.

Dinner was served buffet-style and was far more delicious than anything I might have fixed for myself at home. I had planned to stay just long enough to be sociable, and then slip out early to get off and sleep. But somehow I found myself talking with a man named Paul, who I had never met before. It turned out that he was Gina’s cousin and was staying with her and her husband for a few days. Paul was from New Zealand, and quite entertaining to talk with, so I ended up staying at Gina’s place much later than I’d planned.

At one point I found myself with an urgent need to use the john. Now when I have to pee, I usually have to go pretty damn quick, but as it turned out there was a long line of people waiting to use the bathroom. I said to Paul that if the line didn’t move quickly, I was going out in the backyard before I wet myself. He laughed and suggested we slip downstairs and use the bathroom next to the guest room, where he was staying. My bladder told me this was a damn good idea, so I told him to show me the way.

When we got to the downstairs bathroom I hurried in, pushing the door closed behind me. I quickly relieved myself, then stood to pull my panties up before I realized that the door had not quite caught the latch, and instead had swung slowly open again. Paul was standing about six feet away, looking directly at the thatch of curly red hair on my mound.

For a moment both of us froze, momentarily too embarrassed to move. I quickly recovered, jerking my panties up so sharply that I ended up with a good portion of my skirt caught in the waistband, leaving me still partially exposed. I had to laugh then. “Oh, what the hell,” I said as I worked on straightening myself out. “If you’ve seen one you’ve seen them all, right?”

Paul said nothing as he stepped toward me, entering the bathroom and shutting the door behind him, firmly this time. Then, in that sexy New Zealand accent, he said, “Well, you showed me yours, so it’s only fair that I show you mine.” And with that he pulled down his zipper and pulled out his cock, standing there holding it in the palm of his hand.

I couldn’t take my eyes off it. He wasn’t erect, but he had what I’d call a chubby, which seemed to be getting harder before my eyes. It appeared to be a little over six inches long and was extremely thick. I stared as it continued to grow, the foreskin peeling back from the purplish glans as he became fully erect, and soon a mouth-watering hard-on jutted proudly up from his groin.

“I drew my legs up and spread them wide, providing easy access to my cunt”

Well, I have never claimed to be a strictly faithful wife. With hardly a second thought I quickly went down on my knees, taking him into my mouth as he leaned against the closed door. His dick was slightly shorter than my husband’s, though just as thick, so I easily swallowed his entire shaft down to the base, which allowed me to extend my tongue to lick his ball sac briefly before I began bobbing my head up and down, face-fucking him like a paid professional.

I fully intended to suck him off and let him see me swallow his creamy offering, but after a moment he took a firm grip on my head, lifting me up until his cock popped out of my mouth.

He pulled me to my feet and pressed his lips against mine, unconcerned that my lips had just been wrapped around his dripping cock and were smeared with his salty precome.

He was a great kisser, and his lips lingered on mine for two minutes or longer, but his hands were far from idle. The skirt I’d just gotten down was bunched around my waist, and he had one hand down the front of my panties, while the other caressed the firm cheeks of my ass. I spread my legs when his magical fingers probed lower, to dance over my slippery cunt lips as his thumb lightly rubbed my clit, sending delicious tremors through my body.

I was dimly aware of the possibility that we might be missed by the people upstairs, or that we might even be discovered down here together, but I couldn’t care less. I wanted Paul’s cock and I wanted it ASAP, regardless of the consequences. As soon as the kiss ended, I pushed my panties down and kicked them away. Paul hoisted me up onto the vanity as I drew my legs up and spread them wide, providing easy access to my cunt.

I felt his cock probing once or twice to locate my entrance before it finally filled the aching void between my legs. He looked straight into my eyes as he began thrusting rapidly, using the full length of his prick to pound me, while banging against my swollen clit at the end of each inward stroke.

Sometimes it takes an extended coupling to bring me to orgasm, but that night my climax crested just a split second before Paul rammed himself home one last time, drenching my inner walls with his hot creamy load. I felt every throb of his cock as it spurted what seemed like an endless amount of semen into my depths.

After our orgasms subsided and his organ eased out of me, I regained my senses, quickly locating my panties, pulling them on and straightening my skirt, then murmuring a thank-you to Paul as I slipped out the door. I managed to rejoin the party upstairs inconspicuously enough and was busy talking to someone else by the time Paul made his appearance, just as casually.

Shortly after that I found Gina and thanked her for a wonderful evening. A few minutes later I was home. My telephone rang at four o’clock the next morning. Thinking it could only be my husband at that hour, I answered it by saying, “Hi, honey! When are you going to come back to take care of me?”

Imagine my surprise when I heard Paul’s deep down-under reply, “I can be there in ten minutes, little lady.”

“Oh my God, Paul, I thought you were my husband!” I told him. “How did you get this number?”

He explained that he had found it on Gina’s refrigerator. Then he said, “Listen, babe, you left so abruptly, I didn’t get a chance to thank you properly, or to ask if we could possibly get together before I have to leave on Monday.”

I didn’t hesitate for more than a few seconds. “How convenient,” I said. “As it happens, my husband isn’t coming back till next week. Why don’t you come over tomorrow?”

“Why don’t I come over right now?” he said. And I couldn’t think of one good reason why he shouldn’t.

I won’t go into the details of everything we did that weekend, but by the end of it, if a vagina could smile, mine would have been grinning from thigh to thigh!

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