Emmy and the Top Ten List

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Emmy and the Top Ten Fantasy List

I married my wife, Emmy, just after college. We met as Freshmen and dated all four years. She was my first girlfriend and my only girlfriend. We both grew up in very rural parts of the country where there just weren’t a lot of people or time for dating. We bonded over our shared background and I considered myself to be pretty lucky because she was smokin’ hot by anyone’s standards. She just didn’t know it.

She took my virginity and I hers. To say that we were inexperienced would be an understatement.

I never miss the girls I never dated; never regretted getting hitched without sowing my wild oats. I love and adore my sweetie and couldn’t imagine wanting another woman. Literally, I didn’t even look at other women.

I did however, secretly obsess about what it would be like to suck a cock. I’m straight so I guess they call that bi-curious. Though I would never follow up on that thought, it was always stuck in the back of my mind making me doubt my sexuality.

Which brings me to this story I’m about to tell you. It was a lazy Saturday afternoon. Emmy was reading some woman’s magazine and she looked up and said, “Do you have fantasies?”

I wasn’t sure what she meant. I assumed she just meant any old fantasy, so I answered: “I dream we’re lying on a tropical beach with the waves lapping at our toes.”

“Go on…” She encouraged with a gleam in her eyes.

“We’re sipping those drinks in the coconuts and getting all tan while we relax.” I continued. Her face was nonplussed. Clearly I wasn’t getting this right. I raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“This magazine says that everyone has fantasies. That couples have fantasies…” The realization of what she meant dawned on me. “Tell me yours.” She went on.

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. Then, composing myself, I said, “I guess I have the normal fantasies and stuff. What about you?” I couldn’t bring myself to admit the truth.

She didn’t look satisfied. “It lists the top ten and none of the sexual ones sound right. This one here, number 4, it’s like it’s just cops and robbers. I don’t get the appeal.”

I was happy to turn the subject away from my personal fantasy, so I offered, “Have you read them all? I’m sure there’s something that makes them so popular.”

Putting down the magazine she faltered, “I’ve skimmed the article. It says sex gets dull and old. Are…are you bored?”

She might as well have asked if I was bored with her because that’s how she would interpret it if I said “yes.” I answered with feigned confidence, “Not at all! Our sex life is great.” It wasn’t a lie. But then again, she didn’t have a penis. She didn’t even have one of those big clits you hear about, the ones that are two inches long and look like a little dick. I deflected back to her: “How ’bout you? Would you like to try something new? Just to spice it up. Like salt on a great steak.”

She jumped up, kissing me on the cheek as she passed on her way to the bedroom. “I’m getting dressed. Tell me more over dinner – you’re taking me out for steak.” She was from Montana and always craved steak. I watched her shimmy out of her sweats and slip on a slinky dress, nude for far too short a time in between.

I eyed her up and down. She caught me and smiled. She was just as lithe and shapely as ever. Long brown hair. Perfect athletic calves. Amazing full tits. “Let’s fool around first. You always turn me on.”

She laid her hand on the side of my face, “Good! That’s the way I like it. Not now though. Sex later – if you buy me dinner and treat me right.” That was the rub. She had a thousand rules on what it meant to treat her right and they all seemed to conflict.

“I’m gonna do my make-up. You keep yourself busy while I get ready. Why don’t you go read that magazine?” She turned her shapely body toward the bathroom

But I didn’t get to it. I snuck in some video game time instead.

Half way through our meal she stabbed a piece of steak and shoved it in my face, “Taste it. Whaddya think?”

I chewed the steak musing, “Tender… no gristle…good… but it was better last time. It’s too late to send it back. You’ve eaten most of it. And it’s good. It just needs…” I tried to think of what it needed.

“Salt.” She said. It’s a good steak. It’s a keeper. It just needs salt.” I nodded. “She continued talking. (I can’t say I always follow her line of reasoning. She did or didn’t change the subject depending on what the subject actually was). “So, should we try one?

I had just stuffed a large piece of my own steak in my mouth. Whereas she had the Petite Sirloin I was trying hard to finish the King Prime Rib. I nodded and chewed. I was really only half paying attention.

“Which one?” She asked casually as if she wanted to know which dessert to order. And at first that’s exactly what I thought she was asking. “The one with the costumes, or the one with the ties?”

I remembered I was supposed to have read the article, Eryaman Escort and instantly knew what Em was asking. I wondered what costume she meant? I didn’t want to be dressed like cops and robbers, or worse, some giant teddy bear. And what would the ties be? Probably not neckties. If she wanted to, she could probably hogtie me in five seconds flat. But who would get tied? I had no desire to tie her up. If anything I wished she were more active in bed, not less.

I needed to pick something that wouldn’t be stupid. Thinking quickly I answered, “The first one, everybody likes that one. There’s a reason it’s number one, right?.”

She chewed her lip. “I guess so. If everyone likes it then it must be good. Well, maybe it’s better for you than for me.” Then she frowned.

“OK.” I replied. “We’ll do number two then – better for you.” I guessed that in a woman’s magazine that more of the fantasies would be geared for women and the top two would be the least crazy.

A confused smile crept upon her face. “You’d do that?” She took my hand. “Do you want that or is it for me?” I thought about what number two could possibly be to make her act so puzzled.

I squeezed her hand back and faked it some more, “Baby, I love you and you’re all I need. I’m very happy. Not bored at all. We can do anything you want. I’d do it for you.” Then I added, “And maybe the other for me. But we can sleep on it.” (I was going to read that article first thing when we got home)

She seemed insecure again, “That’s just it.” She said with self-doubt, “I don’t know if I want any of them. I do know I don’t want to be the only weirdo who doesn’t have a sex fantasy.”

I squeezed tighter, “Baby, you can’t let other people define your fantasies for you. If they’re not your own, what good are they? You have to be true to your fantasies.”

Best to push this whole Top Ten article aside I thought.

We talked a little more about nothing in particular, finished our dinner, and went home. She was pensive on the drive. Half way home she murmured, “We’re down to two times a week. I guess we should.”

We had dull, distracted, uninspired sex that night. Maybe she was right. And, yet again, I forgot to read that article. By the time I thought of it again I couldn’t figure out where she put it.

A week later we talked about it one more time before we started making plans. I never figured out what we were going to do, but how bad could it be? I did learn that we were combining number one for me with number two for her. Both at once. But things were actually even less clear now with that cryptic revelation.

Two weeks later we showered up, dressed to the nines, and went to a nightclub.

Maybe we would pretend we weren’t married and I would pick her up. That could be fun.

At our table I ordered a really strong drink. Emmy had white wine. Occasionally, she would point someone out and ask me what I thought.

Was it a game? Were we just going to talk about people? Would we have a threesome? That seemed like more than she would do. But at the same time she said things like, “I’m not sure I can go through with it.” and “Are you sure?” Also, she was pointing out both men and women, and based on how good looking they were, I told her I was sure.

I loved the idea of a threesome. I just wanted the person to be good looking. If it were a girl that would be hot. And if it were a guy maybe my own fantasy would come true some way without revealing my secret. It was a win-win. Unless it wasn’t a threesome!

We talked about this one guy in tight pants. She wondered out loud if he had a big dick. I wondered the same thing secretly. As if reading my mind she asked, “Would you want him to have a big one?”

I almost choked on my drink. Then I pretended to be thinking something else, “I would want her to be a wildcat.” She glanced at me sideways and smirked.

Maybe she wanted to make me watch her get fucked? Not cool. I sure hoped I hadn’t agreed to that. Would I get to join in at all?

The night ran on and nothing was materializing. One time she went to the bathroom and didn’t come back for a long time. When I finally spotted her she was sitting at a table with a beautiful blonde woman. Breathtaking really!

She abandoned me for a couple hours while they got to know each other. Would they have lesbian sex?

At last, they came back to me. They were both drunk while I had sobered up. The girl was introduced to me as “Princess” which soon became a game where I called both of them princesses. Princess was a little “out there.” She wore hippy inspired clothes and a big new agey crystal necklace. They kept bonding while I fetched drinks.

The game progressed to them calling me “Boy” then “Pageboy. ” I played along. And it was fun to be in the presence of two hot women who just maybe were going to have sex with each other or me. I figured all the guys in the bar envied me.

After Sincan Escort a time Emmy announced we were going home. I was ordered to pull the car around and hold the door for the two of them as they climbed into the back seat.

At home I had to fix some floofy drinks. When I returned to the living room the new girl was laying on the loveseat, naked, yet wrapped in our furry white blanket like the Queen of Sheba in a royal mantle. They were passing a joint back and forth too. The wild child must have brought it because we didn’t have any in the house.

I handed out the drinks but was admonished for not bowing. So far the game included me serving them hand and foot, and a gorgeous soon-to-be naked woman. I could go for this.

I bowed. “At your liege, Princess, er Princesses How can I serve you?”

“That’s better.” My haughty wife declared. “You may start by softly caressing your majesty’s skin. Do a good job or you will be punished.”

I wasn’t sure which princess to stroke but our guest made it clear by lowering the blanket to bare her milky-white shoulders. They were smooth and soft. I had never touched, sexually, skin other than Emmy’s before. On the one hand, skin is skin, but it felt strange and different to lay my hands upon anyone else. I ran my fingertips over her shoulders, across her jawline, down past her clavicles, between her breasts, which I could not yet see, and all the way down her softer-than-soft round tummy just past her belly button, which was as far as she had revealed herself.

I was struck by how different her belly button looked compared to my wife’s. It appeared to be twisted and gnarled into a foreign shape. It was still cute, but so unfamiliar.

The blanket fell completely away. I was embarrassed to be looking at a gorgeous nude woman in front of my wife. I looked into Emmy’s eyes for guidance. She derided me, “Did either of us say to stop?”

Unlike my dearest wife the blonde was shaved down there. Well sort of, she had a few days’ stubble. Emmy let her’s go au natural, which I like. I’d never seen one shaved before in person. I could really see her pussy lips in great detail. It surprised me how unhidden they were. They were…puffier, longer, wider: just bigger in every way as opposed to Emmy’s thin lines.

Princess wasn’t shy at all. She let her legs fall open exposing everything to my…to our eyes. I finally understood why pussy’s are sometimes called clams or camel-toes.

I resumed my caresses with my fingertips. Unlike Princess I was definitely feeling my nerves. My stomach was knotted up and my hands shook. I willed my fingers to draw trails all over her erogenous zones. When I got to her breasts I allowed my previously averted eyes to look.

They were slightly larger than my wife’s with a little sag. Her areolas were larger too, and pink instead of brown. The nipples were as thick as my pinky and stuck out unlike my wife’s, which look like a teenager’s nipples on a woman’s boobs. Our new acquaintance had these little dots ringing the actual nip whereas Em’s are smooth.

Princess put out her arms to welcome my wife who slid in next to her on the blanket. I don’t know when she got naked too but here she was in all her glory. The juxtaposition in skin color stood out as they lay there hip to hip, the sides of their boobs pressing against each other’s.

Did her boobs feel different too? It didn’t take long before I could contrast them. She moved one of my hands to Emmy’s body. They were equally soft though Princesses were more, well, squishy, inside.

I couldn’t maintain the posture I had; standing at their feet, leaning over to stroke their breasts, so I knelt down on the floor. Now I couldn’t reach the two women’s four breasts as easily.

Pondering the erotic scene, I couldn’t believe I was with two women! And I had been playing with FOUR titties. A dream come true.

Princess tapped me out of my reverie by nudging me on the side of my face with her foot. I resumed my adoration of what I could reach. I explored both bodies, rubbing legs and waists and ventured near to Emmy’s full bush and Princesses exposed slit.

I really wanted to get my hands on their tits some more. I stretched back up brashly to grab and squeeze their tits, but it was an unwelcome touch.

Emmy took a cue from Princess: hitting me lightly on my face with her dainty foot, she spoke sternly, “Don’t get too carried away, Boy. You’re here to make us happy. Now do as you’re told!” I had apparently agreed to this last week.

Princess was ready for more than fondling. She hooked her heels behind my neck and pulled me toward her till I fell lying prone on her body, but still kneeling at the foot of the couch. Her pussy felt molten-hot under my chest. This placed my face between her knockers. I would have immediately started licking but I knew now to wait to be told.

I raised my eyes to look at hers, asking with my expression Etlik Escort if I should start. She laughed. Turning to Em she said, “He’s learning fast. He’ll do just fine for what we have planned.” Looking back at me she barked, “Kiss my chest. Start in the center then work your way around.” She grabbed a handful of my hair to push my face to its task. A moment later my neglected bride placed her hand on the back of my head directing me too.

The front of my shirt rubbed on her prickly cunt making scratchy noises as her tiny stubble snagged the fabric. Her knees were up by my shoulders. Her legs were still behind my neck. She apparently had the flexibility of a circus performer. Or maybe Em was the only woman who did not? I didn’t know which was normal?

I smelled her arousal and felt good that I could turn on another woman. It was heady and deliciously pungent. Em’s usually smells far less strong. Less fishy too, not that I mind the natural scent of a woman. Em’s also has a subtle scent of pee as well. Probably from drops left in her bush.

So, yea, I was glad I could turn her on, unless it wasn’t me that was turning her on: her arm was draped around Em and they were whispering to each other. Were they going to start kissing?

They eventually steered my head to one of her jiggly boobs. “Lick.” insisted Princess. It was a fantastic tit!

“Yea, make her feel good.” chimed in Em.

I licked all over, teasing and gradually making my way to one of her comparatively large nipples. When I suckled on it she held my head fast making sure I nursed exactly as she wanted it. Occasionally she said things like “harder” or “switch.” Emmy always parroted her. Apparently she was practicing assertiveness. It was odd to have these hard nubs in my mouth when all my life the only other nipples I’d ever tasted were Em’s. Both kind of nipples were exciting. Also, It was hot as hell to be in a threesome and I was turned on to no end.

I could tell it turned Emmy on too. She was getting more vocal by the minute. Even announcing that she was wet. Now, she could talk a tiny bit like that in private with me, but around others she was normally shy and inhibited. I could also tell she was turned on when I felt her press her pussy up against my leg and I could feel her hand being busy down there.

Princess pushed me roughly Southward with Emmy joining in on the action to move me down. Their hands shepherded my head in a meandering route from nipples to underboob, to licking her side, then to her incredibly soft tummy where they paused at her weirdly contorted belly button to have me kiss it.

Just when I thought I was about to eat my second ever pussy they pulled the rug out from under me, bringing me back up, clutching my head and drawing my lips into the dank hollow of Princesses armpit. I had never kissed an armpit before. Not even Em’s. I thought it would be disgusting but it didn’t stink or anything. And I really had no choice. If this is what they wanted I would submit to their games. I was with two hot women after all.

Her pit was a symbolic test and forcing me to pay homage foreshadowed the other moistness and stubble I would soon be made to pleasure. Making love to a woman’s dewy pit must be second in intimacy to orally serving her only other hairy wetness. If I could stick my face in the lower place then why not the upper?

I should have been grossed out to be licking, kissing, and sucking on a pit. Instead, the opportunity to grind my swollen needy manhood against her mound made up for up for any negatives. My groin was positively buzzing and I was as hard as ever. Surely she noticed and moaned as much from my cock’s contact as from my ministrations. I’m no slouch in the cock department. I’m a respectable six inches long but I’m also very thick. Thick enough for any woman to take notice and be impressed.

Emmy noticed her moans too. Was she jealous? Emmy piloted my head solo and of her own initiative for the first time that night. Taking me away from the stranger, she drew me to her own pit, just inches away.

I nuzzled my love’s smooth armpit for the first time ever. It was indeed much smoother. Firstly, she had had her hair lasered off long ago. Secondly, her body felt flushed and hot which caused her to have a slippery sheen of fresh, clean, salty, perspiration there. I reveled deeply in the virgin sensations while rubbing my lips and tongue all over our newfound garden of delight. She raised her arm even higher, inviting me deeper into her pit. Responding, I sucked hard enough to leave a lone hickey, like a flag marking new territory. Next I bit gently all over; a man possessed of passion.

But Princess must have grown bored, having been left alone. Not to be outdone, she grabbed my head again, forcing me down all the way this time. She pushed me straight to her moist gash. The sparse forest of protruding tree-stump-hairs poked my lips but I didn’t care. I was too far gone in lust to care about anything.

She grasped her ankles firmly and with her legs now held high in the air she was spread open obscenely. I’ve never eaten Em in this position, instead Em just lies on her back while I crouch at her hirsute mound hoping to lick the right spot. With Em I’m never really ever certain that I’m finding her labia or clit hidden in the tangled muff.

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