I'm with a wonderful man, a man who encourages me to explore my sexuality and be proud of my body and my naughty, naughty imagination. I thought I was uninhibited before I met him, but he keeps pushing me to new levels of exhibitionism and experimentation, and I love him for it. He has a job that keeps us moving every few months (he supervises the demolition of large buildings), and the frequent moves have given me tremendous freedom to express myself, since I know that if we go too far, if I end up embarrassed, we will be moving on soon.
My fantasies aren't always politically correct, and until Brian got so good at teasing them out of me, I had never told a man that I sometimes masturbate to fantasies of being gang-banged. Only my fantasies are never like the contemptuous sex in dirty movies where the men swear at and degrade some woman; my fantasies are of being adored by many men and treated like a naughty sex goddess. I never dreamed that a man could figure out how to make this kind of fantasy come true in real life, but Brian is a sex god. If you want your woman to worship you forever, then figure out a way to make it happen for her the way it happened for me, when Brian brought home a gang of Super Bowl lovers.
A week before the big game, Brian told me that he had invited five guys that he supervised at his most recent project over to our apartment to watch the game. He picked guys who were physically fit and not married, and who had been most interested in talking with him about sex. He told me that he had been bragging about me to them; telling them about my 38D breasts, my round, bouncy ass, and my love of sex. The ones he invited are the ones who asked to see photos of me, who asked if I was a natural blonde (I am), or who told him they would love to meet me. Brian had told all of them that, with enough encouragement and appreciation, they might—if they were lucky—be able to get me to do just about anything, but he made no promises. "You just give what you feel like giving, Leah," he whispered to me when he told me about his party plans, one week before Super Bowl Sunday. "If you just want to tease, that's fine. But if you want to fuck all five of them at once and post it on the internet, that's fine too. I just want to see you crazy with lust and coming as hard as you can come."
Now, I had done a threesome with Brian and another woman, and I had done a lot of flirting and flashing of other men in front of him, but I'd never had sex with more than one man at once, except in my mind. My nipples immediately hardened at the thought of a real live gangbang. And since all the guys worked under Brian, they would have to be respectful, so thanked him and I told him I would do whatever he had planned.
He pulled a wrapped box out from under the bed, smiling and saying, "This is what I want you to be wearing when you open the door for the guys." Inside the box was a Hooters' girl outfit: the white T-shirt, a skimpy pair of orange shorts, even the shiny pantyhose and the white tennis shoes. And under all that was a pushup bra with holes cut out for my nipples to protrude through. He gently pulled off my shirt and bra and hooked the new bra onto my breasts. I stared in the mirror, very turned on at the sight of my big, pink nipples standing firm and proud and free. He pulled on them gently and I moaned. "No sex now, though, my love. I am not going to let you come until next Sunday, so you will be just aching for it."
By Super Bowl Sunday, I was out of my mind with anticipation and desire. I spent a lot of time getting ready, and I looked hot in the Hooters outfit. Brian tied the T-shirt tight in a knot at my waist so my nipples poked hard against the tight fabric. Each time I opened the door, the guy's eyes went immediately to my nipples, and every one of them said something to Brian like, "you sure weren't kidding when you said Leah was hot!" Soon they were all sitting on the sectional sofa, drinking beers and eating the food I had prepared, filling out the squares sheet. Just before kickoff, Brian announced that we were going to play the squares game "a little differently." Then he smiled and gestured to me. "Come here, Leah, and let's show them what we're talking about."
I walked over and let him kiss me a good long time, enjoying his tongue in my mouth. One of his hands squeezed my ass, and the other one pulled at my right nipple. I loved being handled by him in front of all the guys, and I loved their cat-calls and cheers. When he was done kissing me, Brian said, "the guy who wins at the end of the first quarter gets to spend 2 minutes in the bedroom with Leah. Halftime winner gets 4 minutes, the third quarter winner gets 8 minutes, and final score winner gets 16 minutes. Oh, and each winner gets to modify Leah's outfit for the next quarter. The only other rule is you can't do anything Leah says no to, and you can't fuck her unless you've made her come first."
I blushed but forced myself to look right in the eyes of the men. Most of them were smiling with their mouths slightly open, and the youngest one was massaging a large bulge in his crotch. They were big men, physical men, men used to working construction. I suddenly felt very small and helpless, but very, very sexy.
Then the game started and we watched and cheered. The home team wasn't in it, so nobody was fixated on the game too much; I kept catching guys staring at my chest and legs. And when the first half was done, one guy, a tall, muscular, dark-haired guy named Dave jumped up, his fist in the air. "Yes, I get Leah!" Brian walked over the bedroom door and pushed it open. "Only two minutes, and I'm timing it now."
Dave wasted no time in shutting the door behind us and flipping on the lights. "God your boobs are amazing," he said, pulling the knot out of my shirt and ripping the shirt over my head. He bent his head down and suckled each nipple, then lightly pulled each out away from my chest with his teeth. His hand slipped inside my shorts and his middle finger pressed up against my clitoris. "You are so wet," he breathed, "and I need to taste you." He yanked down my shorts and pantyhose to my knees and wrestled my cunt lips apart with his nose. Then his tongue licked and stroked me.
"Please suck my clit," I begged, wanting that vacuum pressure to bring me over the edge. My clit had never felt so big, so pulsing, and when he firmly took it into his mouth and began to suck, I was in heaven...until the door opened and Brian said, "time's up."
All the other guys were standing there, staring at my exposed breasts. Dave reluctantly pulled his head back but kept holding my cunt lips apart with his hands, showing all of them my blonde pussy hairs and my throbbing clitoris. "Look at that," he breathed reverently.
Brian came over and pulled my pantyhose and panties up. "Show's over for now," he said. "What do you want to do to Leah's outfit?" he asked Dave.
Dave grinned. "No shirt. I love seeing those naughty nipples poking free. And I can't guarantee that I won't need to lick them once in a while next quarter."
Brian smiled. "Okay, no shirt. And Leah? If anybody wants to kiss your nipples this next quarter, or suck them, or pull on them, is that okay with you?"
Dazed, I nodded. I was so wet and swollen between my legs I could barely walk. "I'd love to have them all touch me all over," I whispered.
Brian shook his head. "Only your breasts this quarter. Maybe we'll let them have more fun later."
That quarter flew by in a blur. I basically moved from lap to lap, getting to know each guy better, kissing them and feeling their hands and their tongues on my bare nipples, which were aching from all the attention. And when the quarter ended, it was Jamal's turn to take me into the bedroom. He was a muscular African-American, and I had never even kissed a black man before.
"Four minutes is not nearly enough time," he whispered as he turned me around to face away from him. "I'm an ass man, and I'm not happy just playing with your tits. Let me see that big round ass Brian keeps bragging about." He gently pushed me over the bed, face down, and slid my shorts and panty hose down to my ankles. Then he pushed my knees apart and spread my butt cheeks with his hands. "This is what I want to see. Your pussy, dripping wet." He slid two fingers into my vagina while using his thumb to stroke my clit from behind. That was all I needed to come to a shuddering orgasm that washed over me in waves of pleasure and I cried out loud. When I finished shuddering I heard cheers and clapping from behind the door.
