"Hi, honey, I'm home!" (Yeah, just like in Ozzie and Harriet, I know. But what
else are you going to say?) I looked up from my newspaper. My lovely wife
Suzanne shut the door behind her and walked in to the living room towards me,
dropping her purse, briefcase and coat on the dining room table. "Hey, babe,
how'ya doing?" I answered, glad to see my wife again. I'd just gotten home
myself about 45 minutes earlier, and waited curiously for my usually prompt wife
to arrive just a few minutes after me. We work in opposite parts of town, but
have an almost identical commuting time. "Just fine and dandy, thank you kind
sir." She leaned over to kiss me. I took in her fine figure. She had on black
pumps with two inch heels, a tight skirt that rose just a few inches above her
knees, a white silk blouse and a matching jacket. Our lips met and tongues
intertwined as I helped her take the jacket off and threw it to the other end of
the sofa. I ran my hands down over her waist and hips, squeezing lovingly. As
she straightened back up, I thought I smelled a faintly familiar odor from her
kiss. Then it struck me. "Suzy, have you been.....drinking?" She blushed a
furious shade of red. "Well,....yes" she hesitated. "Don asked me to stay late
and help him and the others for a few minutes. When we were done, they asked if
I'd have a drink with them. I didn't want to at first, but, you know, Don's my
boss, and I would really like to advance in my job. So I told them OK. I'm
sorry." "Don't be. You know I don't mind it at all. How many of them were there,
all told?" She pursed her lips and frowned. "Uummmm....seven. No, eight, I
forgot, Bill Morris showed up just as we were finishing, and of course, we had
to include him." "Let me look at you." I stood up and held her at arm's length.
Her blouse was spotless. I could just see the white lace demi-cup bra she had on
underneath of it. I don't know how she does it, but no matter what kind of
blouse Suzy wears, you can almost always see her bra (or bare breasts,
occasionally!) underneath of it. I think she purposely wears darker underwear
than most women normally would, just so it shows through. My eyes traveled down
the length of her torso. Her skirt, wrinkled a bit after the days work, was also
pristine. I kept looking down. Aha! Both knees looked a bit smudged. Also, one
stocking had a small runner in it. "Ah ah ah!" I chuckled, pointing down at
them. "10 demerits for dirty knees, and 5 for the run." Suzy blushed again.
"Take off the skirt." She twisted it around her waist and unclasped the top, and
pulled the zipper down, then let it fall and stepped out of it. The white lace
garter belt contrasted nicely with her lovely smooth tanned skin. I don't let
her wear pantyhose. An abomination. "Now the blouse." She shrugged it off her
shoulders. "And the bra." She reached in front and undid the clasp, pulling the
cups away on both sides and sliding it off her shoulders. It joined the blouse
and jacket at the other end of the sofa. Her nipples were hardening. They always
do at times like this. I reached up and kissed them both, hugging her to me. I
let one hand slide down and trace a light touch across the front of her panties
and between her legs. "Do you have the tape?" "Yes. It's in my purse." "Put it
on. Then you can tell me about it." I clicked on the set. Thirty seconds later
the screen buzzed to life from the tape she'd put in the machine. I recognized
the room - it was a meeting room off one of the executive offices in her
building. She'd set the camera on the table and positioned it just like we'd
planned when I built the small frame to hold it. Then her profile came into view
along the left half of the screen. She turned to the camera and gave the date
and time. "It's Wednesday, November 14th, Nineteen Ninety Five, at six fifteen
p.m." Then she turned away again to a profile of her right side. After a few
seconds, she opened her mouth. Almost immediately, an erect penis entered the
frame from the right, and she allowed it to enter her mouth and begin thrusting
back and forth. I pulled her down next to me and started rubbing her nipples as
we watched. She sucked the cock with great talent. Never used her hands. It
moved in and out of her mouth, from tip to groin, as she deep-throated the
entire shaft. After about four or five minutes, the cock pulled back until just
the tip was in her mouth, and the man's hand came down to stroke the shaft. We
both heard the groan from off camera. Then I watched as my lovely wife swallowed
down what appeared to be about half a dozen quick spurts of semen. "That was
Don. I let him go first, seeing as how he's the boss and all." "How was it?"
"Really hot. A bit salty, and kind of liquidie. No clumps or anything, that I
could tell." "Good. Who's next?" "Umm, I think it was James. Yeah, there he is."
She pointed. It had to be James. Only Negro in the group. Interestingly enough,
not a huge cock. But coal black, just like the rest of him. Great guy. Has a
charming British accent, which I understand he works very hard at maintaining,
since he was born in St. Louis. Again we watched silently as my wife fellated
her co-worker for several minutes until he ejaculated into her mouth. Again she
swallowed at least half a dozen times. I watched her Adam's apple bob up and
down. "That was a huge one. I think he must've pumped half a pint into me."
"Yeah, looked like it." The tape lasted about half an hour. One by one, we
watched my beautiful, educated wife get her face fucked by eight men until they
all came in her mouth. She swallowed every drop. Not a single little droplet
escaped her lips to stain her blouse. She's really gotten a lot better at that,
I must admit. Time was, she used to come home with little tiny stains all over
the front of her clothes. Not any more. Finally she was finished. She turned
back to the camera and smiled, swallowed one last time, and we saw her hand
reach out and turn the tape off. The screen dissolved into snow. "Well, how was
it?" I said. "Good. They were all different a bit, but good, yeah, good." "Good
as me?" "Of course not! No one's as good as you." "That's right. But we're not
going to stop until we prove that, right?" "Right." I got up and popped the tape
out and added it to the collection. That made number one hundred and seventy
four. Each half-hour tape was alike - Suzanne on her knees, getting her throat
fucked. Suzanne, on her knees, swallowing cum. Suzanne, on her knees, licking
the white streams from her lips. By the time I turned back to the sofa, she had
her mouth open for me. I don't mind being number nine. Hell, one night I was
number one, and number sixty four. And the next day, whew, you talk about bad
breath........ Since then, I make sure she has a little bottle of Lavoris in her
purse. She goes through it real fast. The End
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