If there’s a more fun holiday than Halloween, my husband, Charlie, and I don’t know about it. That’s a time when we cut loose, embrace our playful demons and throw one hell of a party.
This last Halloween was no exception. We played the gracious host to thirty or so people, and Charlie, inspired by the movie Braveheart, dressed as a kilt-wearing Scotsman. The costume showed off his fine body and muscular legs, and you’d be hard-pressed to find a man who looked hotter in a skirt. I dressed up as a Fred Astaire type, complete with tux, top hat and cane. Though with my curvy body and long blonde hair no one would mistake me for a man, it was fun to dress up as one and play the part of a debonair gent.
As the party swung into high gear, Charlie and I separated and mingled on our own. This is my favorite part of the night, as I get a little weak in the knees when I see Charlie flirting with other women. There’s just something about watching a woman melt under the power of his rugged good looks and sexy blue eyes. My pussy gets wet when he gently touches someone’s hand or arm or brushes a hair away from her face. That’s when things really heat up for me. We’ve talked about indulging in a threesome, but what I really wanted to do was watch him with another woman. And from the look of things, it seemed that this just might be the night.
I thought about this possibility as I watched Charlie engage in an animated conversation with a woman dressed in a French-maid costume. She had an olive complexion and a long mane of curly black hair, and she stood no more than five-foot-five in her high heels. Her skirt was short enough that her frilly panties revealed the crease where her ass met the tops of her thighs, and her low-cut blouse and vest displayed her magnificent décolletage. And, like many others, she wore a mask. Hers was made of silver sequins and covered just the upper half of her face, making her eyes look even more sultry than they already were.
I could see that Charlie was already in heavy flirt mode. He stood very close to the woman and was being extremely attentive. Something he said made her laugh, and at just that moment his eyes found mine and he smiled coyly. Then he jerked his head slightly to the side, gesturing for me to follow them as they made their way to our bedroom.
They entered the room and left the door ajar. I followed behind them a few seconds later and closed the door, my pussy growing damp in anticipation of what I was about to watch unfold. Then the French maid smiled at me as she moved closer to my husband, put her hand on his hip and ran it down his thigh. I guess he’d explained to her what this was all about, because without further ado, she lifted his kilt and giggled when she discovered that he wasn’t wearing any underwear. “It’s true then what they say about Scotsmen,” she said as she took Charlie’s thick cock in her hand. I watched as his member started to stiffen and a lightning bolt of excitement shot through my entire body.
“Do you want to do or watch?” the woman asked, turning to me as I took a seat in a nearby armchair.
“I want to watch,” I replied, and then I quickly added, “for now.”
That was all the go-ahead Charlie needed, as if he didn’t know how I’d feel. He pulled the French maid close to him and kissed her deeply. When he undid two buttons on her vest, her ample breasts poured out, her nipples already gorgeously erect. He led her to the bed and then worked his mouth down from her lips to her neck to her cleavage, unbuttoning buttons and unzipping zippers as he went. She was completely naked in no time flat.
Charlie squeezed her breasts and ran his thumbs over the pointy tips, then he slid his hands down over her body to her shaved cunt. He lowered his head to trace circles around her large pink nipples with his tongue, and when he bit them lightly, she squirmed. My nipples hardened at this sight and I envied her a little, knowing firsthand the pleasure of Charlie’s mouth.
She offered her other breast to him. “This one now,” she implored. “Suck it hard.” Judging from the way her back arched, Charlie had obliged. Watching his tongue work its magic on another woman made my pussy wet and hot, and when he started licking and kissing down over her stomach, I realized I had been unconsciously rubbing my hand between my legs. No wonder my cunt was tingling! Then Charlie began eating her glistening cunt and I could hear the sound of his tongue lapping up her abundant juices.
“Deeper,” she moaned as she reached down to spread her labia for him. He teased her for a moment with the tip of his tongue and then slid his fingers deep inside her opening as his lips encircled her clit. The woman let out a long, deep moan that just about gave me an orgasm on its own. Apparently it had a similar effect on Charlie, because he grabbed his hard cock with his free hand and started jerking off.
I couldn’t contain myself any longer. I took off my pants and panties and started massaging my inflamed clit. The French maid opened her eyes and, seeing me pleasuring myself, pushed my husband away from her cunt. I was surprised by this turn of events until she announced that she was going to suck his cock.
She lay back on the bed and asked Charlie to straddle her body. She squeezed her tits together and he slid his cock into her cleavage and then back out. After a few more of his thrusts, she grabbed his tight ass and guided his penis to her mouth. She sucked him greedily, getting the whole length of his cock wet and slippery.
While the French maid gave my husband a sexy, sloppy blowjob, I spread my legs so that they hung over the arms of the chair. Then I slid two fingers into my dripping cunt and began thrusting them in and out. Shivers shot up and down my spine, and my stomach and thighs tensed as I fucked myself. I wanted to come so badly, but I decided to practice patience so I could watch my husband and the woman come first.
She took Charlie’s cock out of her mouth and slowly stroked just the shaft. She licked a pearly drop of pre-come from the head, looked right at me through her sequined mask, then looked back at Charlie and said, “Maybe your wife would like to watch you fuck my ass?”
“Oh, yes,” I breathed. The mere words “fuck my ass” sent a quiver through my cunt, and it contracted hard around my fingers. I couldn’t think of anything that I wanted to see more just then.
The French maid rolled onto her stomach and pushed her curvaceous ass high in the air, wagging it seductively in Charlie’s direction. So he grabbed hold of his glistening cock and started easing it into her tight rear hole. She moaned as he filled her canal, then she reached between her thighs, grabbed my husband’s balls and squeezed. I was in sensory overload, as all the sights and sounds and smells were driving me crazy. I began sliding my fingers deeper into my cunt and rubbed my clit with my other hand. My legs began to twitch, signaling my oncoming orgasm, and I had trouble keeping my eyes open.
Then Charlie began pumping fast and deep into the woman’s ass. She grabbed the edge of the mattress and buried her face in a pillow. Then she let out a series of progressively louder screams until her ass stopped grinding against his pelvis and her entire body came to a standstill. It buckled with her orgasm and then she looked up and her eyes met mine.
“I think your wife is about to come,” she said to Charlie.
“She’s not the only one” was his response. Then he withdrew his cock from her asshole and shot the first blast of his load on her lower back and then the second all over her ass. The sight of that was too much for me–my eyes closed tight as multiple orgasms racked my body.
When I finally managed to open my eyes, the maid was standing before me, once again fully dressed and still wearing that sequined mask. She kissed me lightly on the cheek and thanked us both for a wonderful time. Then she slipped out the door, leaving Charlie and me alone.
“Who was that masked woman?” he asked as he helped me back on with my tux.
“I don’t know,” I replied. “I figured you’d invited her!” We both laughed at that, and then Charlie took my hand and we went back downstairs to the party, which was still going strong. The French maid was already gone, and though we never saw her again, we’ll always remember the mystery woman who made that particular Halloween extra special.
~ Dana B.