“ I can’t believe I’m doing this, ” I thought as I stood out front the house. This was either the best idea my husband and I’d ever had or the worst one… I just wasn’t quite sure which.
My husband Tony and I have been desperately trying to have children for years , every single time unsuccessfully. I thought it was my fault for a long time, right up until Tony’s sperm count test came back. He couldn’t have had a lower number if he had a black hole in his dick. At least my eggs weren’t the issue, I guess, but it didn’t help the situation any.
The house looked perfectly normal house from the outside—a friendly, approachable front stoop, an appropriate number of ornamental shrubs… you know, the boring sort of house you see rows and rows of out here in suburbia. From the outside, you expect the owners to have two and half children, a big dog, and perhaps a few too many recreational vehicles.
A reasonable guess, admittedly, but one that could not be further from the truth.
From the sound of it, the party had been going on for a while already, and the guests were getting rowdy. Lights flickered down in the basement, and every now and then a shadow crossed in front of a window, letting me know that the place was packed tonight. I was late, but I wasn’t supposed to show up at the beginning anyway. Tony and his best buddy Bill told me to show up a little late and requested that I make a grand entrance, and I intended to do just that.
I opted for a sleek black dress that hugged my curves and accentuated my breasts nicely. The skirt was decorated with red, swirling embroidery and small, sequined flowers. It might not be the ideal dress for going out on the town, but I wasn’t planning on wearing it for long. It’d make a great first impression and convenient wrapping for all the accoutrements underneath it. I’d paired it with a perfectly-fitted red corset, black, lacy panties, and—of course—a pair of sheer, black stockings. Tony loves stockings, and I wore them damned well, in my opinion. Stockings work best with long, sexy legs, and mine were exactly that.
Tony and I decided that enough’s enough. I’m getting pregnant tonight, and if not from him, from someone at this party. My husband Tony and I tried out the swinging scene, but I never really got into it. I like to my half of it well enough, but I hated to share him. No problem with that tonight, though, because I’m the main course. Tonight, down in the basement of this perfectly ordinary house, I’m going to get fucked by a room full of young, virile, good looking men who my husband personally vetted. Hopefully Tony hangs around and fucks me, too. I kind of like him, you know.
After two rings of the doorbell, Tony’s friend Bill answered the door—fully dressed, to my surprise. I’m not sure why I expected him not to be naked, to be honest; I guess I’d just gotten a little ahead of myself.
“Hi! You’re Penelope, right?” he said. “Good timing.”
I winked at him and nodded in reply.
I mostly used the nod as an excuse to check him out. Maybe I needed to spend a little more time with Tony’s friends, I thought. Bill, at least, was pretty damned hot. Let’s face it: most swinger parties are full of fat, greasy old guys who you wouldn’t fuck with your worst enemy’s vagina , but this guy? Totally not the norm. He had strong, muscular arms, a well-defined chest—I could tell because his green, sleeveless shirt was in danger of bursting at the seams —and was trim and fit as if his job was to work out all day.
“ Yeah, I could deal with this ,” I thought with a grin. This idea was looking better and better all the time.
Bill held the door open for me in a gentlemanly fashion as I clattered into the house in my heels, and then he gestured for me to follow him down into the basement. I haven’t been over here for a party in at least two years, but I still remembered
My husband Tony and I have been desperately trying to have children for years , every single time unsuccessfully. I thought it was my fault for a long time, right up until Tony’s sperm count test came back. He couldn’t have had a lower number if he had a black hole in his dick. At least my eggs weren’t the issue, I guess, but it didn’t help the situation any.
The house looked perfectly normal house from the outside—a friendly, approachable front stoop, an appropriate number of ornamental shrubs… you know, the boring sort of house you see rows and rows of out here in suburbia. From the outside, you expect the owners to have two and half children, a big dog, and perhaps a few too many recreational vehicles.
A reasonable guess, admittedly, but one that could not be further from the truth.
From the sound of it, the party had been going on for a while already, and the guests were getting rowdy. Lights flickered down in the basement, and every now and then a shadow crossed in front of a window, letting me know that the place was packed tonight. I was late, but I wasn’t supposed to show up at the beginning anyway. Tony and his best buddy Bill told me to show up a little late and requested that I make a grand entrance, and I intended to do just that.
I opted for a sleek black dress that hugged my curves and accentuated my breasts nicely. The skirt was decorated with red, swirling embroidery and small, sequined flowers. It might not be the ideal dress for going out on the town, but I wasn’t planning on wearing it for long. It’d make a great first impression and convenient wrapping for all the accoutrements underneath it. I’d paired it with a perfectly-fitted red corset, black, lacy panties, and—of course—a pair of sheer, black stockings. Tony loves stockings, and I wore them damned well, in my opinion. Stockings work best with long, sexy legs, and mine were exactly that.
Tony and I decided that enough’s enough. I’m getting pregnant tonight, and if not from him, from someone at this party. My husband Tony and I tried out the swinging scene, but I never really got into it. I like to my half of it well enough, but I hated to share him. No problem with that tonight, though, because I’m the main course. Tonight, down in the basement of this perfectly ordinary house, I’m going to get fucked by a room full of young, virile, good looking men who my husband personally vetted. Hopefully Tony hangs around and fucks me, too. I kind of like him, you know.
After two rings of the doorbell, Tony’s friend Bill answered the door—fully dressed, to my surprise. I’m not sure why I expected him not to be naked, to be honest; I guess I’d just gotten a little ahead of myself.
“Hi! You’re Penelope, right?” he said. “Good timing.”
I winked at him and nodded in reply.
I mostly used the nod as an excuse to check him out. Maybe I needed to spend a little more time with Tony’s friends, I thought. Bill, at least, was pretty damned hot. Let’s face it: most swinger parties are full of fat, greasy old guys who you wouldn’t fuck with your worst enemy’s vagina , but this guy? Totally not the norm. He had strong, muscular arms, a well-defined chest—I could tell because his green, sleeveless shirt was in danger of bursting at the seams —and was trim and fit as if his job was to work out all day.
“ Yeah, I could deal with this ,” I thought with a grin. This idea was looking better and better all the time.
Bill held the door open for me in a gentlemanly fashion as I clattered into the house in my heels, and then he gestured for me to follow him down into the basement. I haven’t been over here for a party in at least two years, but I still remembered
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