If you've been following this saga, you know this was my 5th or 6th National Conference since I'd been transferred from Maine a few years earlier, but the New Orleans one was different. I secretly intended to “sleep” with a former high school boyfriend, who now organized meetings, conferences, and travel arrangements for everyone in the company. No one went anywhere without Jerry knowing or making the arrangements. Despite my husband's urging, I was unwilling to fool around with anyone. But at the last big meeting, Jerry and I ended up in his room, most clothes were off, and he was pulling my panties off when the goddamn hotel fire alarm went off forcing us to dress and evacuate. When the alarm was cleared there were so many people about we practically forced to go to our rooms. Also at the New Orleans conference, I won several work awards, got drunk, played strip poker, acceptingly, then enthusiastically, was gang fucked, and instigated a second a couple of days later.When my husband met us at the home airport, I instantly saw something significant was wrong and my guilty conscience screamed “He knows you have been fucking around!!!” But it was worse, his/our Uncle Merton (Mert) and Aunt Bertha (Bert) were killed by a high and drunk trucker the day before. Mert and Bert were very popular locally, we were extremely close to them, and they were almost like parents to us. My husband didn't want to emotionally burden me with the news because I would be home in a few hours. Plus He was very busy taking care of their small farm (they called it the “M&B Ranch”), the livestock, and working with their/our lawyer, Tim, on arrangements and related problems.
From the airport, he simply dropped me at the apartment and went to take care of the livestock at their farm and stuff, came home a few hours later, had supper, showered, and was asleep before I had finished my shower. The next day my period arrived to my immense relief. With that, their pre-made arrangements, his regular job, and the farm work, my expected homecoming lovemaking simply didn't happen.
Very soon after the funeral services, the lawyers insisted on the will reading. We were stunned at the immensity of the estate that Gene, their only heir, inherited. That hundred-or-so-acre farm with the new house was no surprise but some western property, a luxury apartment building in Virginia, a couple of small businesses here and there, stocks, patent royalties, and more were a total shock. Tim, our lawyer, was also rewarded for his dedication and we began working on closing the estate. We liquidated the western property to an unbelievable 8 figure price (someone had big plans for it), the apartments in Virginia were well and honestly managed, made some changes in a fishing charter business in Georgia, and some other “enterprises” we now owned checked out OK.
Among all that bedlam, we moved to 'our' new house. The farm is very secluded on a dead-end road, nearly self-sufficient, and mostly off-grid. Mert had wisely set up a small corporation encompassing all his “enterprises” so suddenly Gene was a CEO at more than triple his (former) job's pay. Producing nearly all our/their food took a lot of work and time but certainly was worth the effort. We'd helped Mert and Bert on the farm a lot and knew the routine plus hubby grew up on one. Except for my job, we did not need to leave the M&B for weeks at a time and I loved my job so was not about to give it up.
It seemed like a long time before we seemed to get a grasp on things but was a few busy weeks before one Friday night, spare minutes and energy appeared, and the desire was already there. My adventures had receded into the past, I regained my at-home confidence and we finally made love, instead of a quick fuck. As we rested, Gene said, “Why don't you tell me about the trip?” Suddenly a bit nervous I asked, “Like what? We've talked about it a few times.” He said, “We talked about your awards, the new policies, and the extra activities but I've noticed some nice changes in bed and I don't think you had time here to learn those so that leaves the conference. I hope you learned them while naked and some guy was fucking you hard and about empty his nuts in your pussy too or one or two already had filled you and not something you read about.”
My conscience wanted/needed relief from my “activities” so I guessed that time was now and began, “OK, just remember you were always after me to fool around, well I did, not only one guy but several. So IF you're upset, we will work it out, OK?” He enthusiastically agreed as his cock began to stir again.
The trip:
Starting with the arrival and the activities sign-up, then the surprise and thrill of my awards, which led to the bar and celebration foolishly drinking martinis. When I saw myself in the bar mirror as we were getting up to leave how surprised I was to see my tits and pussy through my clothes, the result of an unnoticed “black light”. I told of the guys “admiring” me was exciting, then changing clothes and the teasing comments that I didn't need to change my outfit, a toast to my winnings, and of course one to my “improper” display, exciting me even more, I confessed.
Now I told him about Jerry, how I was ready to fuck him when the fire alarm intervened and I had decided weeks ago to fuck him on this trip but he wasn't there. I told him about being fairly easily convinced to go from our usual gossipy penny-ante poker game to strip poker by repeatedly reminding me they had already seen “all of me” increasing my already high arousal and making it seem OK. I mentioned Randy, had started me on martinis that never ended and noticed that whenever I saw any of the men looking at me, the focus seemed to be on my tits or crotch. Then I realized why, we'd played so long my tits were bare and the ultra-sheer panties I still wore seemed to accent my pussy, it was like being already naked. I knew I should quit, but deep down I liked the lustful admiring looks and didn't want to. In reflection the next day, I realized I wanted them, all of them, to fuck me, them to take command and remove my ability to say no. Several of the men were already naked and sporting hard, sometimes pre-come drooling cocks that “interested” me. The knowledge they all hoped to deposit their sperm loads inside me also was in my horny head, you know how I like being filled with come. Then the offer of cutting cards, best of seven, seemed a quick way to either send me to my room dressed or see what happened, and my “brainy” stupendous folly of raising the ante by offering them total use of my body if I lost and the tiny elation when my jack of hearts was beaten by Richard's ace. I continued with my lack of objections as they spread my legs on the bed and 7 men took turns eating my very excited pussy to several big climaxes and fucking my face. Then told of Richard kneeling between my legs, rubbing his big black drooling cock around my wet juicy, and opening pussy lips, deliciously enjoying the stretching of my pussy as about half his 9 or 10-inch cock slid inside me, then how he was balls deep with a quick pull back then another harder thrust into me, I realized I pushed back and I felt his balls slap my ass as he hit the top of my cunt. His huge cock triggered another orgasm, then he fucked me hard, just like I love it, I realized I had spread and raised my knees to nearly my shoulders offering better access to my welcoming pussy.
I told him about Richard's cock pounding me and dumping his sperm inside me as, too late, realizing I might be fertile and I begged him to pull out. He had not slowed his fucking my cunt or pushed in deep and unloaded like you do and as I spoke I felt his hot liquid inside me and just knew he had knocked me up. I then described how I welcomed each mounting, insisting they all come inside me, I was probably already pregnant anyway. I took a clean-up shower, then two more guys fucked me. My husband was fucking me again as I told him I spent the night in the two black men's room getting fucked twice by each in the night, I switched beds, they didn't, and once in the morning and then sneaked to my room to shower and dress for the business meetings.
I told of the group talking about the “party” that evening over drinks, my admission of realizing about mid-day that I had sort of liked it and spent that night with two different men. Then my instigation of the fishing trip gang bang by appearing on deck nearly naked. I confessed I insisted all the guys come in me again (what the hell, I could get any more pregnant) and how those two black crewmen were overeagerly helping to knock me up. I worried about how to tell him I had fucked about a dozen men and I might have a black baby in me. Then how my worries ended with my period and how I missed his loving due to the huge workload we had.
As I finished my confession, my husband rolled off me and panted, “Goddamn, that was hot! Are you sorry they didn't knock you up? Mostly you must have liked many men fucking you, one after another, right?” The many times I had thought about the trip, I realized I had mixed feelings about a very black man not knocking me up but being gang fucked and all the orgasms I had was fun but exhausting, and if there was ever a next time I wouldn't do more than 4 or 5 and said that.
I knew instantly I goofed because he jumped on the “next time” and seemed to approve, especially on my premeditated intent to fuck Jerry. He continued “Thinking about your belly swelling and tits filling with milk to nurse a little black baby got me up for that session. I hope you are still fucking those black guys or will!” I told him I wasn't but was sure they would be delighted to have me anytime, he told me I could even invite them home anytime, especially when you're fertile and I said I'd talk to them next week at work. He told he me would like a very black man to impregnate me and could not wait to see my pussy draining several black come loads.
His reaction was not too surprising because I believed his desires before and Randy had mentioned he knew my husband had encouraged me to fuck others. They had become fly fishing buddies, I suspected they had talked a lot, especially about me from previous comments from my husband. I wondered then IF somehow he and Randy had “engineered” my getting fucked, which was emphatically denied. On another but related topic, Randy quietly had told me several of my office girls had wondered often how they could convince me to allow those extinct “friendly” office parties again and now that I had “pulled a couple of heavily loaded trains” would I consider that? I did not mention that subject then but did before this weekend was over.
The next morning, Saturday, well rested and with a clear conscience, I woke very rested and remembered there was a lot of haying work and my help would be needed. Mert had a small herd of beef cattle, selling about a quarter of the herd each fall to locals, and had “trained” me in the baler operation a couple of years before. The farm is so secluded, I could even go “Au naturel” where and when I wanted, my husband wanted me naked but I chose a thigh length almost sheer tunic (only) to block that summer sun.
Today he got the baler ready for me then raked the hay into the windrow as I began. Mert had “trained” me on the baler a couple of years previous and had bought equipment to make working mostly alone easier, Gene was using a machine that picked the bales off the ground and stacked them on wagons, which then would tip up to stack the 4 or 5 tiers neatly in stacks in the storage barn. When we broke for lunch and it was apparent I would finish soon but loading and getting the wagons undercover would take a couple of hours or so more. Then I would take one of the 2 special wagons and dump/stack the hay, return to swap wagons, and repeat which eliminated him doing that and he could keep picking up the hay. There were perhaps 2 or 3 loads left to be picked/stored when we noticed a predicted storm was forming in the distance. Knowing how fast those could move and we began to hustle more, it was nearly on us as I stacked the last load.
My revelation of the trip indeed turned my hubby on and he frequently stopped to ask something about my experience, which of course took time and put us in that rush situation. Once he asked what I thought about going back to New Orleans during my next fertile week and wondered how many Lamar (the boat captain) black men he could get to breed me out on that fishing boat. I immediately rejected that idea, saying I was sure we could find black men locally and wouldn't he would prefer to watch me getting pregnant plus several days of being a captive fuck tool was unappealing.
Our driveway intercom announced a forgotten delivery of feed. Activating the gate, Gene asked if I’d get the granary door for the truck while he finished storing machines. I indicated my nearly sheer outfit but he just grinned and said it was probably Ben (a nice looking neat very black man who usually flirted whenever I saw him) and maybe he would like to be one of the local guys. The truck was just coming into view, I scowled at my husband and started to run to the granary about 40 yards away hoping to beat that storm but it got me within a very short yards, I think deluge is inadequate for that downpour, I couldn't see 5 feet, was instantly drenched and the temperature dropped about a hundred degrees. A few seconds later, it eased so I could slog my way to open the big door, and the truck backed in out of the storm. Ben climbed out of the rig, looked at me, and laughed, “God how I love wet Tee shirts! You look good enough to eat! But then you always do!” then hooked up the unloading stuff. I looked at myself, soaking wet and shivering, and realized I may as well be naked. That cloth clung to me like clear plastic.
Embarrassed, I told Ben to bring the delivery receipt to the hot tubs where I would be soaking to warm up, he immediately offered to warm me up with body-to-body contact. I laughed and said that would only warm my front, so maybe another time, and told him where the hot tub was.
I was up to my neck in that warm water when Ben came in, I had forgotten about the receipt and there was nothing I could put on near me. I shrugged as he had already had a good look and I do like men looking at me, so I climbed out and went to sign for the delivery. Ben looked my naked body over again and said he hoped that “another time” was real soon, I noticed he had a massive bulge in his jeans so suggested he could join me, knowing full well what he wanted to join me with.
Ben picked me up, laid me on a settee, and buried my face in my naked crotch as he struggled to undo his clothes. As soon as he succeed, he slid his 8 or 9 inches into my pussy and forcefully thrust in and out of my fur-covered pussy. As he fucked me, he asked if I was on birth control or fertile, I admitted next week was my ovulation, why, did he want to knock me up? He would love to get me pregnant but was it ok to come in me, I urged him to do just that, and boy did he fill my cunt. As he watched his load drool out, he told me he was having some guys (all black) come to his place next weekend to watch a game and would I like to join them. I asked then what, and he chuckled and said “We will fuck you silly, of course. Think you could handle 5 horny black men, I bet you would come home with a baby in that sweet pussy.” I laughed again, said most likely I could, I have done an 8 man train a couple of times recently. Plus my husband would love that, 5 or 6 blacks gang-banging me, especially if they knocked me up.
Just then his dispatcher phoned him, the other driver slid off the road in that storm, they knew he had finished because he'd printed the receipt and he had to get back immediately to pick up the slack. Gene had walked in right behind Ben, who did not realize that but I ignored him. Ben looked a bit sheepish when he realized my husband had watched him fill my cunt and told him we would let him know about my visit. Ben was a bit shocked but grinned and said my husband was not invited, then left. Gene looked at me and said, “You are fucking going and going naked!” I said, “Friday I will be in my fertile week, if Ben and his pals jump my bones, they will likely leave a lifetime remembrance in my pussy, you know!” He just grinned.
Later with a couple of martinis, I told him about Randy suggesting I allow those old office parties, aka orgies, resume, claiming several of my office girls would be in favor of that. They were still getting together but with much more difficulty and less frequently. Gene liked the idea but told me those girls had to ask me, not me ask them. He also added that whatever was decided, nothing should take place in the office, someone would tell the home office eventually or immediately. Then he musingly suggested, “Mert's farmhouse is still in perfect condition, it gets checked often and nearly fully furnished (we brought and bought our stuff) and is almost always vacant, you know.”
To be continued on both subjects.
