After the party

I left work early so I could go to the grocery store on the way home to Buenos Aires. The rest of the afternoon was spent cooking, cleaning and preparing things for my guests because, in a moment of enthusiasm; she had suggested that I host this year's group birthday party.

Among my little gang, there were five people who, by chance, were born in January. Over the years, the "January party" had become something of a tradition; a chance to celebrate, catch up, and (most of all) eat a lot and drink a cocktail, or six.

As I chopped the cheese and served the olives in small bowls, I felt good, to the rhythm of the music that was playing on the radio; As much work as an event like this entails, it can also be a lot of fun. I continued with my preparations until I heard the door open: my husband was coming home from work.

"Hello, honey, I'm sorry. I haven't been able to get out before," he said as he entered the kitchen, taking off his jacket.

-Don't worry. I think I've got it covered," I replied.

She came up behind me and her hand slipped around my side to grab a piece of red pepper off the cutting board. “Yeah, I sure do. And you're also very pretty,” he added, tugging at the apron tie at the small of my back.

I rolled my eyes over my shoulder. "Yeah yeah, keep the 50's housewife fantasies to a minimum man," I laughed.

"Okay, you're not pretty," he replied. "You're fucking sexy." And I'm going to spend the whole party thinking about all the dirty and disgusting things I'm going to do to you as soon as everyone leaves.

The words produced an instant reaction: my face flushed red, my heart rate sped up, a deep ache settled in my belly, and a low hum shot up between my legs.

I angled my hips back into him, pushing into his groin, and felt his erection press against me. "Careful," he said. "Or I'll do those nasty, dirty things to you right now, and you'll be naked when the guests arrive."

"Oh yeah?" I said, raising my eyebrows at him.

“Without any chopped red peppers,” he added, stealing another piece and popping it into his mouth.

"Good point," I replied. "But we have an appointment later." When we're alone I'll become famous escort from Buenos Aires—.

He smiled at me. "Do we have to be totally alone?" I look over my shoulder at him, caught by surprise. But when I saw the wicked glint in his eyes, I knew exactly what he meant.

A couple of weeks ago, we had attended his office Christmas party. I'd had too many glasses of wine, which is easy to do when you're the weirdo. Being "The Wife" at a Christmas party can be quite a harrowing event, hence all the wine.

Later, in the taxi, I was so uninhibited that I started whispering about what we could do when we got home. A sudden flash of inspiration (or intoxication) led me to suggest that it was a shame no one else was with us, that a "third party" might be fun.

Although the idea of a threesome with another man was something I regularly fantasized about on my own, I had never mentioned it to him. I guess I figured it would hurt his feelings, implying that he wasn't enough. He was more than enough. But even so, he had dreamed more than once of one of his friends joining us for the night.

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized I shouldn't have worried so much about offending him. I was excited. Very excited. "Like who?" he said. "Someone we know?"

Emboldened by his enthusiasm and wine-induced bravado, I smiled. "Maybe Mitch?" 

Mitch was her college roommate and best friend. Everything my husband was, Mitch was the opposite: blond instead of dark, stocky and muscular instead of long and lean, quiet and shy instead of the party clown.

And Mitch had starred in most of my threesome fantasies. "Really?" he said, eyebrows raised.

-Yeah. Clear. Would you like that?-

-Yeah. Maybe. Don't know. That's really…hot. Shit-.

When the cab finally dropped us off at the house, we almost didn't make it inside: he was on me before the door closed. We fuck on the hallway carpet until we're completely exhausted, we head into the shower together. My husband was passionate, but this was “new relationship” level fucking: intense, fast, hard. And fantastic.

It was clear that the concept of a threesome turned him on as much as it had secretly turned me on for months. Since that night, I'd casually mentioned it a few times, joking, gauging my reaction. I always smiled, blushed and shrugged.

But, to be honest, the fact that it turned him on so much, and that he obviously kept thinking about it, had fueled some serious fantasies of—us plus Mitch—lately. So I knew exactly what he meant: what if someone stayed after, at the end of the party? I cut again and felt him lean behind me, his head next to mine.

"I want," he whispered in my ear. -I want with you. See it with you.

He didn't wait for an answer. He took a step back and, at a normal volume, said, “Okay, tell me what I have to do. Set the table? Looking for candles? What is my job, ma'am? I laughed, listed a to-do list, and left.

Less than an hour later, there was a first knock on the door. Soon after, everyone had arrived. The next few hours were chaos. We could barely accommodate the whole group at the dining room table, and we ate side by side. When I brought out the cake, we made all the birthday girls stand up while we chanted “happy birthday” loudly.

Everyone cheered and clapped as we tried to blow out the candles as a group. It was fun.

However, as the evening wore on, she couldn't help but be ultra-aware of Mitch. I was sure it was my overactive imagination triggered by the conversation I had with my husband before the party, but it seemed like he was being especially attentive to me. When we established eye contact, it lasted longer than it should, and more than once I caught his eyes roaming my neck and breasts.

The attention - real or imagined - made me nervous, but it also turned me on. I couldn't wait for everyone to leave so my husband and I could go to bed. But it was not yet the time to do so. There was still a hostess to do. We crowded into the living room, sitting on the sofas or on the floor around the coffee table, and a round of Cards Against Humanity had us roaring.

Halfway through the game, I jumped up and announced that I was going to make another round of margaritas.

"Who needs one?" Hands went up everywhere and I quickly did a tally. "Okay, on it," I said, and left the room.

In the kitchen, I rinsed out the mixer from the previous round and added new ingredients. I jumped more than I should have when I heard Mitch's voice just behind me. I haven't raised my hand, too late to get one? I laughed.

"No, I think I can get one more."

"Thank you," he said.

-No problem-.

We went back to the living room. I realized my husband was watching me from across the room. I was smiling. I refused to make eye contact, because I knew this offer to "stay back" was no coincidence. Two by two, our guests left, until only Mitch, my husband, two of the birthday girls, and myself remained.

I was nervous and anxious, not knowing what was going to happen. Was I imagining the looks and smiles? Had I overinterpreted Mitch's comments in the kitchen about staying after, just because of my husband's teasing beforehand?

I was barely following the conversation and I desperately wanted my friends to go away and at the same time I was grateful for the delay they were giving me. Finally, my husband got up from his spot on the rug, stretched out his arms, and said, "Mitch, man, I hate to ask you this late, but would you mind taking a look at that circuit breaker in the basement?"

-There is no problem my friend. Let's check it out,” Mitch replied, standing up and doing the same stretch. I noticed that her T-shirt was riding up on the front of her belly, briefly revealing her bare skin, and the patch of dark hair on her abdomen above her belted pants.

My stomach dropped and I felt my mouth go dry. All he could think of was what he could find behind the pants, given the chance. As the men went down the stairs, the talk continued among the girls. I tried jumping into the conversation here and there, but the thought of Mitch and my husband down in the basement, potentially waiting for me, kept spinning my brain.

I wanted this. The thought came to me quickly and with certainty: I wanted Mitch. I loved my husband. At the same time. Tonight. I could feel the moisture between my legs, my panties getting wet under my skirt. I raised my arms and yawned.

"Oh man, I'm clean," I said dreamily.

It had the exact effect I expected. The girls looked at me, noticed my yawn, and agreed: it was late, and it was probably time to go to sleep. "Thanks for coming," I said, hugging them both in the hallway.

Once they were gone down the driveway, I closed the door, bolted it, and put the chain back in place. I yelled down the basement stairs. "I'm going to start cleaning up."

I heard a vague acknowledgment from below, but they sure seemed to be discussing the electrical wiring problem. Mitch was grumbling about the sloppy work of the previous owners, who, from what I could hear, had taken various shortcuts on the job.

Perhaps he was staying to help with the wiring? I shrugged and headed for the kitchen, trying to ignore the little jolt of disappointment I felt. "Probably for the best," I told myself.

A threesome? With my husband and his best friend? What was I thinking? I started to fill the sink with water. Finally, I heard the boys go back upstairs to the main floor, and a moment later the door to the bathroom in the hall clicked shut.

My husband called me from the other room. I wiped my hands on a kitchen towel and went back to the living room. He was sitting on the sofa. Mitch must be in the bathroom. Preparing to leave, obviously. Another blow of disappointment. But I still smiled at my husband.

"Come here," he said.

I approached him and sat next to him obeying. He leaned in and kissed me. "It's been a great party," he said.

-Thank you. Not bad, if I do say so. There's a lot to clean up though,” I said, looking at the mess in the room.

-It can wait-. He leaned in again, kissing me harder this time. My hand moved to his lap, and I could feel his cock harden behind his pants. "Fuck, I've been thinking about this all night," he said, and his mouth moved closer to mine again, his tongue pushing against my lips.

"Me too," I said. Just as his hand slid down my thigh under the hem of my skirt, I heard the bathroom lock click and the door opened.

Mitch. smiled. “Don't let it stop you,” he said. For a few long seconds, the three of us stopped, looking at each other, and then Mitch walked over to the door. "Well," he started. I steeled myself. It's now or never. "Don't go," I said. -Not yet-.

He stopped, looked at me, his eyes darkened, the lids lowered.

“Are you sure?” I gasped and found myself unable to say another word. But I managed to get two:

-Yeah. A lot-. He moved quickly to sit on the other side of me. His hand moved quickly down my other thigh, to get it all started before I could scare myself into changing my mind.

Both of my thighs were being caressed by a different man. It was exactly what he had imagined so many times. I felt my pussy flood, a veritable rush of moisture as my arousal soared.

As if sensing it, Mitch's hand moved slowly up, to the edge of my panties. He pushed them away and ran his fingertips over my pussy lips.

“Christ almighty,” she breathed out.

My husband leaned towards me again and brought his mouth closer to mine. As I closed my eyes and felt his lips on me, I was acutely aware of every move to the other side: Mitch would slide off the couch, push the coffee table out of the way, and kneel in front of me. His hand pushed on one knee and, simultaneously, my husband's hand gripped the other, opening me wide.

Mitch leaned forward, tucking his head between my thighs. His tongue came out hot and wet and slippery against my pussy. I moaned and squirmed, my hips curling. His arms wrapped around the top of my thighs and he pulled me against him. My butt hung just over the edge of the sofa.

The movement allowed him better access and he took advantage of it. His entire mouth moved over my pussy. I squirmed and moaned as his tongue licked over me, and I pushed myself against him.

I felt the front of my dress push against me and the familiar sensation of my husband's mouth closing over one of my nipples through my bra. His teeth gently nipped at my nipple and I screamed. He pulled the front of the bra down, bunching the fabric under my breasts, exposing me to his mouth and hands.

As he licked and sucked on my tits, Mitch kept going downstairs. After a few more minutes, I felt his finger slide slowly inside me, his tongue continuing on my clit. It was too much, and I began to gasp, to curse, to beg.

"Fuck, fuck, please, fuck, oh God, fuck, please, please, PLEASE," I moaned.

He complied, moving faster, harder, his mouth on my clit, a second finger joining the first, thicker and rougher inside me.

-I am going to run. I'm going to run, I'm going to run. I exhaled in a hoarse whisper.

He gripped my thighs tighter, arms still entwined around them, as if he wanted to hold me in place until he'd come. Within seconds, I came hard. A cry escaped me as my husband sucked harder on one breast and squeezed the other hard.

"Oh God, oh dear, oh my God," I said, the orgasm still shuddering through me.

Mitch straightened up, leaned over me, and kissed me hard. My husband had never done this: kiss me with the taste of my own pussy on his lips. Even though I was still recovering from my orgasm, all I could think of was more.

It's like they can read my mind. They both unzipped their pants at the same time, ripping them off, exposing their twin erections.

Like everything else in them, here too they were different. Mitch's penis was shorter, much thicker, and completely shaved. On his knees, he was inches from my pussy. I squirmed involuntarily, desperate for him to be inside me.

He dug back into his discarded jeans, found a condom in his pocket, opened the package, and slipped it on.

Watching him was hypnotic, and I realized I wasn't the only one who felt this way: my husband's attention was riveted on the scene, his eyes darting from my bare pussy to Mitch's penis. It was clear that I didn't have to worry: his penis was extremely hard and his breathing was rapid and labored.

"Fuck," I heard him whisper next to me.

Mitch looked at me, his hand slowly stroking his sheathed penis, and asked with his eyes, is he okay? I nodded and brought my hands to him, one tugging at his shoulder and the other at his chest. His hard nipple tickled the palm of my hand.

"Mitch…" I said, breathless, my eyes half closed. He leaned forward and the head of his penis slipped between my pussy lips. My head fell back.

"It feels so good, oh God, it feels so good," I moaned.

The thickness of his penis was immediately apparent as he inserted it, stretching me a little more than I was used to.

The three of us look at the entry point. After a moment, my husband lowered his hand and his fingertips connected with my clit, beginning a slow rhythmic circle as Mitch slid deeper and deeper inside me.

My husband leaned into my ear, his voice husky and deep. “Fuck, baby. You're so fucking hot right now, oh my God,” he said. His words snapped me back to reality and I reached over to cup his hard penis in my hand. I stroked her up and down with a loose grip as Mitch began a slow, steady motion of his own stroking, in and out of my wet cunt.

"I want your penis in my mouth," I hastily told my husband.

He didn't hesitate: he got on his knees on the sofa next to me. Leaning back with my hips on the edge of the sofa, his kneeling position put him at the perfect height above me. His warm, hard length slid over my lips, and my tongue ran over the head of his penis.

Both penetrated me at almost identical speed: Mitch fucked my pussy while my husband did it in my mouth. The feeling was incredible, but the idea was even better. I felt like my brain was going to explode before my pussy. As if a mental orgasm was about to occur before my body reached any kind of physical climax.

Mitch grabbed my hips, leveraging me. At the same time, my husband's hand encircled the back of my head. With my mouth full, I couldn't help but moan. But in my head, I heard a constant stream of unspoken curses.

I could tell from their movements that they were both getting closer, and I reached down to rub my fingertips over my clit. As Mitch started to hit harder, I felt myself approaching the brink of a massive release.

The shock of my rocking orgasm hit both of them the same way. In quick succession, Mitch growled that he was going to come and burrowed deep inside me; my husband, panting, withdrew from my mouth and stroked himself until he came on my bare chest.

Another novelty: I had never done it. Clearly, we were creating new rules. Watching him do it made me feel like I was going to come again, and I was surprised by the redoubling of my desire.

I wanted both. Again. Right now. We were breathing hard, shaking. Mitch swayed as he slowly withdrew from me. "Oh my god," I said.

-That was…

"Yes," my husband said, surprise in his voice.

-Shit-. Mitch leaned back on his heels and smiled at me.

"That's been great," he said, and gave me a short laugh. His laughter eased the moment, and I put my hands to my face, half amused, happy, and a little shy: my legs open, my pussy still sore.

"Again?" I said, smiling.

"Yeah, definitely," Mitch replied. -In five minutes-.

I think I need ten. At least," my husband said.

"Okay, if I have to wait," I said, smiling.

"So, how about…double penetration?" My husband's eyebrows shot up, and Mitch smiled.

"Sounds like a good plan to me," he said. One by one, they both leaned forward. As they took turns kissing me, I was already counting down the seconds to the second round.

End

If you want to read more erotic stories and everything related to the great world of escort in Argentina and the services they provide, you can continue browsing the following publications on this same blog: Deep Throat and premature ejaculation.