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Sexforsale

 

Sex for Sale (exhib, MF)
By OneIdleHand

Now what was I going to do? The question struck to my core. For
months, I had been making pretty good money selling adult novelties in
people's homes, much like Tupperware parties, except, well, not just
anyone was invited. And this is what happens when you don't know your
hostess.

My husband, Steven, and I had needed some extra money, and a small
article in our newspaper had piqued my interest. I'm sure Steven would
admit that it piqued his as well. From Steven's perspective, he lost
weekend days and nights with me, but he gained by testing the wares and
hearing my stories of women's reactions during my demonstrations. And
although I told my customers that all transactions were strictly
confidential, I always shared with Steven what our friends and neighbors
bought. It was wickedly fun and led to some good sex.

My first few jobs had been very difficult. The company I represented,
although having a great product line, didn't have a suggested list of
people for me to call upon for home shows. So, that meant I had to
start with my friends. This had been awkward in my somewhat
conservative social circle, but, everyone enjoys sex... The sales got
better, and pretty soon, I was into the third and fourth generation of
shows from people who had attended my earlier ones. I learned that to
sell my items, it was important to put the ladies at ease, and, at
times, to non-provocatively demonstrate what the gadgets did, or how
they were worn. The biggest selling point had been suggesting how the
items could be used to surprise their husbands, to turn the humdrum of
marital status quo into a night of fun and passion. The parties rarely
got out of hand, and generally only when liquor was involved. But,
polite or raunchy, I had learned how to make it fun. And besides, it
was among girls, often with others much more open than I was about
sharing my sex life with others.

It normally took one to two hours for "some show, more tell" of my
various products. Then, I would retreat to a bedroom, where each of the
women would enter to purchase their items privately, so that no one
would know what she had purchased. I kept a stock of all the "toys,"
but some sizes of lingerie I had to special order. But overall, my
sample bag and boxes included what seemed to sell the most. Making
$1,000 to $2,000 per show was quite nice, and it had recently begun to
get very easy, almost second nature.

Women who chose their friends to attend such a non-conventional affair
generally selected those who were either randy to begin with, or had a
desire to be randy for a change. I had learned in idle conversation
with my customers that the ones who spent the most money had told their
spouses where they were going. Their "credit limits" were
enthusiastically removed by their husbands as a result. Further, I
encouraged the hostess to provide wine, which definitely seemed to
soften inhibitions. Sales were steady, and steadily good. I just
couldn't let my mom or anyone else take a close look at all the
cardboard boxes in my garage and basement. Yikes.

My "hostess," Claire, who had sounded perfect over the phone, had said
that she would invite a good sized crowd that she was sure would be
interested in sex products. As I had driven to her home, her neighborhood
had spoken of wealth, as did the cars in her driveway. But it was only
after I had arrived that Claire explained that, after talking it over with
her husband, that he had felt more comfortable inviting his friends
than she did hers. Then she had picked up her purse, and headed out
for dinner with the girls. The wives thought only that the men were
getting together for their normal Saturday night college football game
and maybe some cards.

Doing a show for men was definitely out of my "comfort zone," and I had
begun the evening...terrified. So much for confidence. There were
seven men, with another expected to arrive. Beers were popping before
Claire had made it to the door. To put it bluntly, I had the fear of
being raped, as there was no way of escaping an atmosphere of "sex," which,
although not literally, was what I was selling. But the men's good humor
had won me over, at least enough to proceed, and several had seemed more
interested in the football game. So, it all began more manageable than
I had feared. I began with the basics: bra's, panties, garters. There
were general whoops and hollers as I held them up, explaining the colors
and sizes available. I gave each man an order form which listed each
item, so that they could check off those in which they were interested and
make notes. I was pleased to see frequent pen movements.

I had to endure a few catcalls, as I held up a see-through body suit,
or a bra with holes cut out at the nipples. They kept joking that they
couldn't make a decision without seeing the fit. Yeah, right. So, I
played to the audience with suggestive talk, but leaving the goods to
their own imaginations.

With the promise of a good sale, I had just wrapped up most of the
clothing items and was just beginning the vibrator selection, when the men
broke to refresh themselves. Meaning more beer. When they gathered
again, the husband of the hostess, Lou, posed a question. "I'm very
interested in what you've shown us, Hayley, and the prices seem
reasonable. But, if we were to pay double your price, would you show
us your products...more intimately ? What about it, guys?" His question
was met with an enthusiastic response from the others, apparently a
collusion decided upon during our "break." My first reaction was, "Yeah,
right." But...

My resolution faltered to my current dilemma. This job suddenly had the
potential of paying a lot more than my usual 40% commission. But I couldn't
answer based solely on financial terms. If my husband found out... He had
been thrilled to hear me recount each session of who bought what, but how
would I explain this night? Think it through. They were asking me to model,
but, a bra was a bra. Panties, garters...no big deal. Exposing my
nipples in a cutout bra would be more fun than embarrassing. I think.
But to model a vibrator would mean... No way! I wasn't going to show my
cunt to a bunch of strangers... Was I? But I just couldn't! Could I?
I realized that my cunt was primed. The words "thinking with my dick"
quickly came to mind, but I shoved them aside, however appropriate they were
for the wetness between my legs.

I had been looking at the floor while I had considered this, but as I
raised my eyes, Lou saw that he had me. But he couldn't "have" me. Yet,
he did. The money was enticing, and so was the idea of showing a bunch of
men my 38 C's. Steven had hardly given me a compliment on my body in months,
maybe a year. Yes, they had me, to a point. But rules were going to be necessary.

"Okay," I allowed with a devilish grin, "but here's the rules. First, I'm
married. There will be NO sex." I looked at each of them to see that
this registered. "But, any product you're interested in, I'll
demonstrate. But you agree to buy that item at twice the price.
Further, I'll start with an imprint of your credit cards, and we'll
record the sale BEFORE I demonstrate it. And, I'll only pull three
items from the bag at a time. They all have to sell before I pull out
any more. When an item doesn't sell, we stop." Let them consider the
expense...

Lou looked thoughtful and then countered, "That sounds fine, except,
considering the price, we get to try the goods - we dress you, we get
to," he paused, considering, "TEST the vibrator in you, and whatever
else you've got in the bag. But if we use it, we'll buy it."

A small voice withing me cried, "Nooooo!" But I wasn't interested in
listening to it. My hard nipples confirmed what my cunt was screaming
at me. This was like a fantasy that I didn't know I had. Control
remained the issue. This could get out of hand, but, still... I
wanted it. "Okay...BUT, you each have to line up your chairs at
least 10' away and stay there, except for the person buying the
merchandise." I could handle one on one.

Lou nodded. "Gentlemen?" There was general agreement. But I wasn't
going to start with the vibrators. I pulled the bag of clothes closer,
that I had just showed them, and began by randomly pulling three items
out of it. I could see that Lou, at least, appreciated the sales
tactic in the move. "Okay, Hayley, we'll start with the clothes. But
there's no dressing rooms here."

Be still, my racing heart. I gave him my best come hither look, and
replied saucily, "Obviously, assuming you're brave enough to dress me."
My voice sounded much braver than I felt. I would normally have the
hostess do most of the modeling, if any were needed, as part of her
duties for the $200 worth, or 10%, of products that she could choose
for inviting her friends, providing refreshments, etc. And it added to
the fun when the ladies knew who it was that was modeling. So, I hadn't
come here prepared to be undressed. But, I suppose it doesn't really
matter, except that my plain bra and panties would show that I wasn't
practicing what I preached... The clothing was laid out, so I offered,
"Who wants to be first?" Lou, of course. Approximately 45 years old
and full of executive level confidence and swagger. He walked towards
me and picked out a bustier. I had him record it on his sales sheet.
It was a good thing I had given them pens. I wouldn't want them erasing
orders after this.

My skin began to feel hot as I turned my back to the men to undress.
Shoes. Off. Blouse. Off. Skirt. What WAS I doing? Off. panty
hose. I need to remember to wear garters next time. I'm sure they're
disappointed. Next time? I'm getting way ahead of myself here. I
reached back and unfastened my bra, noticing for the first time the
silence in the room. Just the sounds of their suddenly heavy breathing
and a faint football game in the background. This was, more or less,
the pivotal point.

Looking over my shoulder, I made sure that everyone but Lou was still
in their seats. They were. This was misunderstood as a tease, and they
Said a few things that I could only imagine might be appropriate in a strip
club. Then they got silent again, hoping, I suppose. Looking down at the
top of my breasts, smooth and tan, I decided that I did want to tease them.
I looked over my shoulder, smiled, and dropped my bra, which was followed
by a chorus of cheers. Panties. I worked them off my hips and down my
legs, my bare ass facing the men. I realized that by being the tease, I
maintained control, or at least I hoped. But it kept them in their seats.
So I wiggled my butt as I reached for the bustier.

"Forgetting something?" Lou stepped beside me, and slowly lowered
himself to one knee, eye level with my cunt. The tease in me suddenly
departed. I don't know what shade I was, but I couldn't imagine there
was a brighter red in the universe. He held the bustier at my feet
so that I could step into it. Thank goodness I was low on inventory
on the ones that snapped in the crotch and hadn't brought them. Then
he rose, slowly, eyes level with the outfit as he raised it, eyeing
my cunt closely as the outfit caught between my legs, then stretched
over my abdomen, and finally, up to my 38C's where he jiggled the cups
just enough to cover my nipples, while briefly pinching one nipple between
his fingers, the sly dog. He then turned me around to face the others
while he zipped my back side, making the bustier fit closely to my form,
and thrusting my breasts upward. I adjusted it slightly so that my
breasts remained comfortably in.

Aside from my husband, I hadn't been naked in front of another man,
aside from doctors, since my college days, 14 years ago. I had
forgotten over the years of my marriage those moments of embarrassment
when a man sees me naked for the first time, which were followed by
pangs of excitement as his eyes devoured my body, hungry for the gift I
was giving to him. And while I wasn't giving myself that way, Lou's
slow inventory of my body reminded me of the power the female form held
over men. By comparison, his attention made my husband seem to take me
for granted. THIS was a turn-on.

With great pleasure on his face, Lou said, "Ahem. I believe you were
supposed to model also." I took a breath and then walked closer to the
men, struck a pose revealing my cleavage, turned around, and struck
another pose. This sale was done. Forty, no. Eight dollars in the
bag. The room became quiet again as I moved near the two remaining
clothing items. Their faces were staring towards my crotch. With a
glance downward, it was then that I noticed that I hadn't shaved my
cunt recently, and my brown hairs were peeking out liberally from both
sides of the thin strip of material that "covered" my crotch. It
couldn't be helped now.

And so it was that we began working through the bag. I had repacked
the bag randomly, so there was a mixture of provocative and,
relatively, conservative clothing in each mix of 3 items. This became
so much the case that they began bidding against each other for the
more revealing outfits, and then had to take turns buying the plainer
sets to spread the costs. And they were motivated to buy all the clothes
so that they could get to the toys. However they split their
purchases, it suited me. It totaled the same. One guy took out a cell
phone and made a phone call before I could stop him, so I requested
that we not invite anyone else. Those that were here or due to arrive
was as much, and I hoped not more, than I could handle.

There was no doubt that they had to be getting more satisfaction here
than at a strip club. As they took their turns, their hands covered me
from my feet to my neck, and each man had seen all that there was of
me, so the more exotic outfits became easier to try on. The shyness
melted, although I felt unusually conspicuous among a group of fully
dressed men.

But after the first few men, it didn't matter if they saw my nipples
through a bra, or all of my body through a see through body suit.
Besides, It became clear that buying the merchandise was an excuse just
to grab a feel. I was unnerved at first, but being desired by a group
of men was a feeling that, I had to admit, was...delicious. So I
playfully reprimanded them when they grabbed a tit, or slid a finger
between my legs when pulling up panty hose. Limitations had been set,
although it was unnerving to hear a man talk about how wet his finger
was after briefly touching my sex. And it was true. I just couldn't
let them know how good that brief touch felt, and it was a struggle to
keep my body from shivering in response.

The last outfit was the plainest, a simple bra and panty set. Blue
satin, with revealing cuts, but not uncomfortable to wear. As if that
would even occur to them. My nervousness wasn't extreme, however.
The men had kept to the rules. And besides that, they were having a
good time, and were generally acting...nicely.

As I moved the two toy boxes to the table, I realized just what lay
within. They didn't. I hadn't paid attention to the what they were
discussing, but then Lou spoke up. "Hayley, instead of you setting the
items out, how about we take turns and grab something from the bag,
which we will buy." That seemed reasonable, and it would avoid their
debating who was going to buy what. That would speed things up, maybe,
and everything depended on me keeping control of my responses. And I
my cunt spoke loudly of what it wanted.

Lou went first, and seeing what he had chosen, furrowed his eyebrows.
This was a sale that his wife would probably never see. I hoped the
$50 was worth the experience. I curled my finger to bring him towards
me, and asked him to remove my bra, which he did, gladly. I opened the
box of what was called a nipple enlarger. I had tried it once, and it
didn't do much for me. It included small rubber rings and a hand pump.
"Place the rubber ring on the long throat of the pump." He did. The
rubber ring was tight against the throat and, he couldn't move it far.
I guided his hand to my breast, and placed the suction end of the pump
around my nipple and firmly against my breast. "Start squeezing,
slowly."

Of course, when I had tried it, I was alone and was nowhere close to
turned on. As my nipple was drawn into the tube, the sensation was
exquisite. My nipples are normally about 3/8" long, but after a few
squeezes, the length doubled as it was drawn inside the tube. It was
hard to speak. "Okay. Be careful not to break the seal, and move
rubber ring off the end." He understood, and just as he moved it off
the end and onto my nipple, he gave the pump a hard squeeze. My mouth
just hung open as the sensations took the interstate from my nipple to
my cunt. My nipple was red, long, and caught in an exquisite pinch by
the rubber ring. As I regained some composure, I realized that Lou was
starting on my other nipple, which ended with a similar result.

Lou was smiling. I was hoping he was happy, because he now owned it.
Another of the men asked a question, which came to me through a
clearing fog. Kevin, that was it. "Other than a torture device,"
everyone laughed, "why would someone want that?" Fair question. I
reached for my blouse and put it on. "It's generally for women with
smaller nipples that want to show a little something through their
shirt. As I looked down at my exaggerated nipples poking into the
shirt, I added, "In this case, it could be used if a
woman wanted to look promiscuous or obscene." They nodded some
understanding. But perhaps there were some more sales here. "Just
imagine if your wife met you at a restaurant or a bar like this..." The
thought carried to their imaginations, and Kevin, at least, made a mark
with his pen.

The sensations had ended with what I presumed to be numbness. Then Lou
asked, with a greedy smile, "And how do we get them off?" I rolled my
eyes and held his hands. "Carefully," I replied. I placed his left
hand around my breast to hold it against the pulling action required to
roll the ring off. He understood, and after adjusting his hand
unnecessarily on my breast, he began working the ring off. The
sensations once again flowed as the blood returned to my nipple. Soon,
both were on fire and bright fiery red.

Lou returned to his seat, and Max, probably in his late 20's and the
shyest of the bunch, took his turn. Bad luck on my part. Nipple
rings, but at least they weren't the clamps. He grinned as he opened
the box. The rings had two small balls on their ends which touched to
form the circle. The rings had been formed to compress at these
points, and Max approached my breasts. They didn't grip tightly, but
as sensitive as I was, they didn't feel particularly good. He played
with them briefly before all but jerking them off. "Owwww!" escaped my
lips. The shy one had a mean streak, or maybe he just didn't know any
better. Max apologized, I think sincerely, as he retreated to his
seat. He looked happy with his purchase, but it wasn't worth the $25 I
was going to get.

Morgan was next. He had been pretty quiet, but funny when he spoke.
About my age and attractive. Shoot, they were all attractive, but at
the moment, they were attracted to me. My ego soared. Regular
exercise for a mother of two had been well worth it. He reached into
the other box, and pulled out the item that I was probably most afraid
of. Thigh/wrist cuffs. I had to give a reminder. "All right
gentlemen. Remember the agreement. You stay in your seats."

Morgan had already opened the box, seen the picture on the cover and
was fastening a Velcro fabric around my thigh. Then he did the other.
I was standing, so he moved my right arm to my thigh, and fastened it
with another Velcro loop that was attached. Then he did the other arm.
I couldn't move, and I didn't like the loss of control. Morgan stepped
behind me and commented to the group, "I guess that's what bondage is
about. Once you tie her up, you can have your way with her." As he
said this, he reached around and grabbed both of my breasts, enjoying
the handfuls. Then he said, "I think I'll enjoy these," and undid my
arms. Whew. That could have turned out...how? I didn't want to get
fucked by almost strangers. Marital commitment, disease possibilities,
and...no birth control! It hadn't dawned on me about that. I had just
recently had my diaphragm removed when my husband had gotten fixed. I
had to stay in control, of them and myself.

Tall, dark, and handsome stood, and I couldn't remember his name. He
pulled out...tickling panties. Well, he was going to have to wash them
before giving them to his wife. He looked at me, curiously. I
explained, "They're kind of fun. They don't tickle, but they include a
vibrating pad in the crotch. The part you will probably like is that
they work with remote control up to 20 feet."

TD&H looked like he had won the lottery. He knelt down and lowered my
panties, exposing my cunt yet again. He held up the panties where
everyone could see clearly the shade of the material where it was dry,
and the darker shade where it was soaked. Thanks. I stepped into the
new panties, which he guided up my legs. He made a minor adjustment to
make sure that the pad was firmly set against my cunt, and smelled his
fingers which were wet with my juices. Thanks, again. He then sat in
his chair and told me to walk around. It was the knowing of what would
happen, and not the when, that gave to me uneasiness and to him a huge
grin. It jolted me. It was better than their occasional touch with a
finger, MUCH better. It built. It stopped. It began. It began
cycling between intense and annoying. That was enough. "I think a
minute is all I can handle of battery operated devices." I pulled the
panties down, wiped myself off a bit with them, and then handed them to
TD&H, which he quickly moved to his nose. While he was inhaling, I
couldn't help but add, "Enjoy. My husband does." That set the men
laughing.

Hugh was next, slightly round in the middle, and the only one in the
group who didn't know what the deal was when he arrived, aside from me,
that is. Another enthusiastic lottery winner. As he reached into the
same box, he added that he was hoping for something remote controlled.
Based on the way I had packed the boxes, he probably had a 50% chance.
He won.

This was one of my husband's personal favorites, and I told them so.
"It is a remote control egg. It has a little string attached to it so
that you can pull it out of your wife's...cunt when you're done. It has
a range of 30' - 40', and, I would add from experience, makes my
husband eager to go mall shopping with me." This was greeted by an
assortment of cheers, which I lost appreciation for as I realized that
Hugh was ready for me to spread my legs so that he could insert his
toy. I couldn't yet face doing this with everyone watching, so I
stepped around to the back side of the table, hopped up, and turned
myself away from the others so that only Hugh could see.

This was met by "boos" from my admirers, but, heck, they hadn't even
found the regular vibrators yet. As I spread my legs, I asked myself
if it was worth the $100 I would receive from Hugh, and I decided that,
yes, it was. Hugh pushed it in slowly, gently, with his eyes wide. He
looked thrilled when the tension of my cunt opening pulled the little
rascal in. He had me lay down on the table as he began to operate the
control. It felt marvelous, and I started counting to one minute, both
to keep my mind off the pleasure building within me and to be
physically able to move on to whatever was next. Hugh surprised me as
he placed his head at my cunt, his ear at my mound, listening for the
vibrating within. He shrugged his shoulders and turned the control on
full, wrecking my mental arithmetic. I could also hear Lou welcoming
two new voices. Great, the gang was all here. At least he explained
what was going on, accurately.

Hugh said, "This thing sure is quiet," and he began pulling on the
string. Slowly. I could only imagine the view as he saw my lips part
and the egg emerge, still vibrating, and now audible. I shook
slightly, the vibrations having felt almost too good within me. Hugh
moved closer to where I could see him, and licked the egg, adding,
"Thanks! Hayley," he added almost as an afterthought.

I took a deep breath, leaned up, looked over the newcomers, and lost my
breath. My husband, Steven, had gotten himself a chair and was sitting
in line with the others. He was wearing the biggest shit-eating grin I
had ever seen, and his hand was rubbing a stiff erection under his
pants. He winked at me, which at least meant he wasn't yanking my butt
out of there. Would he be mad? He didn't look it. I wasn't sure if
any of the men knew he was my husband, and I wasn't about to bring it
up. Still, it gave me a little security knowing that he was there.

The men were disappointed to learn that I didn't have any other remote
controlled items, but happy to learn that I had ample stock of those
they had seen. More pen movements. Incredible. Various vibrating
dildos came next. I knew I had two rows of them in the box. The other
new arrival was first. David. As he held up a purple jelly-like 7"
vibrator, he seemed right at home with the idea of walking into
someone's home, grabbing a vibrator, and inserting into an unknown,
naked woman's wet and swollen cunt. As I laid back on the table
again, I couldn't quite see his other hand, but, still, it was somehow
gratifying that he was probably rubbing his own cock through his pants!
As long as he didn't take it out.

The stroking within me felt really good, this particular vibrator being
a great fit, not too thick, not too long. I had just started raising
my hips to greet his thrusts when Lou said, "Time!". Drat. But, also
good. Who was next? I didn't care. As each man took his turn, I was
surprised to find myself so analytical. I had anticipated an
atmosphere of sex in the room. Now, I had to admit, sex did hang in
the air, the smell of mine. I had no idea that I could lubricate so
much, or that so many men would want to taste me by licking their
juices off their new toys. And I would definitely be able to commend
certain of the vibrators in the future. I had never quite compared
them against each other so...quickly.

I wasn't sure if Steven was play-acting when it was his turn, but he
did it all wrong. He knew the tempo I liked, and he wasn't giving it
to me. He seemed tentative, and the sensations building within
rebelled against tentative. I reached down to guide him slightly, but
he removed my hand and continued to frustrate me. I was actually happy
to hear Lou announce, "Time!"

Steven's turn was over, and it was Lou's. I think Lou must have been a
good student. He wasn't tentative, and in fact, was giving me just the
pleasure I desired. I was building steadily, and quickly began raising
my hips, because it felt so good. And naughty. A gasp escaped my
lips. The men were giving Lou encouragement to finish me off. He was
masterful with the strokes, but I couldn't quite get there. Then I
felt him place his thumb on my clit. And press. And rub. That was not
part of the demonstration, but I didn't care. I was breathing hard,
and I could feel my orgasm nearing. A "yesss" escaped my lips, just a
thrust away from cumming, when I heard "Time!" It was Steven. He did
that intentionally! He knew my body like the back of his hand, and he
knew that just the pause in action would step me down steeply. Lou
smiled at me, and said, "Hayley, you're close, and you know you're
going to cum before we're done." I just smiled. I certainly hoped
so, if my idiot husband didn't wreck things.

Everyone had a turn with a vibrator, and two men twice. Thomas, a
graying 40-ish, distinguished looking man, reached in for a package.
He must have been looking forward to another vibrator but was clearly
disappointed. I wasn't. He unwrapped an 8" dildo, with a suction cup
on the bottom. He obviously had wanted to get more intimate, but then
realized that this could be fun, too. He moistened the suction cup,
stuck it firmly to the table top, and said, "Okay, show us."

My vibrator shows had basically been away from the guys, so each guy
had a "private" view on his turn. Thomas, however, turned me around,
so that everyone could fully see my nakedness. So many eyes, just
watching me. I couldn't imagine being so beautiful, like a celebrity,
that men looked at you with that intensity all the time, with your
clothes on. But these lustful eyes wanted me in a way that gave me
more confidence in my body, or, in some way, just being a woman, than I
had ever known. I was terribly turned on, and frustrated by the
vibrators.

I squatted, somewhat obscenely, over the dildo. My legs were spread
wide, and I could only imagine how my swollen clit looked to them. The
moisture glistened from my legs as the top of the dildo parted my cunt.
I lowered myself, slowly...fully. It was easy after all those vibrators.
My sense of balance was a bit unsteady, so Thomas held one hand as I
began raising and lowering myself. I decided that I was really
enjoying this. Who was I kidding? I knew that I was enjoying this
ever since I had dropped my bra. I looked at each of the men briefly,
their eyes not watching mine, but rather at my sex. That is, until I
came to Steven. He looked right into my eyes and mouthed the words, "I
love you." What an occasion for that.

I concentrated on the fullness of the dildo and increased my tempo. I
didn't care who said "time," I wasn't stopping. I began to pant..., then
grunt... as the orgasm began building. Thomas moved behind me and
steadied me by cupping my breasts, and I didn't care. My orgasm was
just about to trigger when Thomas had the good sense to squeeze my
nipples, and I gave into my desire, screaming I don't know what. As
the last of my orgasms subsided, I stepped off the dildo, and sat on
the table. I pried the dildo loose from the table and handed it to
Thomas, who looked ecstatic with his purchase. At least, I hoped it
was a purchase. I hadn't been paying attention to their order forms of
late.

Lou was a good host, and made a quick errand to get me a towel which I
used to clean up with. That was probably the most embarrassing part of
this experience, rubbing a towel over my sex and down my legs in front
of them. Cleaning up had always been something I did in the bathroom,
by myself, but the boys just talked over it. When I finished, they got
quiet. They were probably wondering if the show was over. I thought
it probably should be. But just as I was thinking that, Max, the baby
of the bunch, walked quickly over to a bag and withdrew an item. "The
rules, you know. As long as we keep pulling stuff out, you have to
demonstrate." A deal was a deal, and, heck, I was still turned on. I
looked over at Steven, who held his head in his hands, wiping the sweat
off his forehead. I supposed they were all pretty well worked up.

When I returned my eyes to Max, he was holding the package in front of
me. Well, this would be different. The other men couldn't see what
Max had chosen, so I explained. "Okay, guys. Turnabout is finally
fair play. Big Max here is going to have to drop his pants." Everyone
laughed. "This is what is called a cock ring. It does two things. It
constricts your cock, which keeps it hard for longer. Also, this
particular set includes 7 rings, each with various textures that would
please your partner during sex. As I mentioned, you can't try this on
me, but I'll at least fit you." Max, to my surprise, had already
lowered his pants and his underwear quickly followed.

This was a sight. "Big Max" was right. I turned him profile to the
group, with the desired effect upon Steven so that he could compare
his own 6 inches to this 8 or 9 inch tiger. I had to kneel to do this
right, and I had no doubt that the men were thinking blow job. Let
them think what they wanted. The cock rings varied in size, and they
were to be placed in a small strap that would keep them spaced properly.
I held the strip along the top of his cock, and began working the
largest of the rings down the length of his cock. Excuse me.
His hard, veiny, and very hot cock.

When I pressed the ring back as far as it would go, his cock swelled
enormously. I grabbed the second of the rings and began working it,
first over his fully enlarged head and then towards the base of his
cock. The heat from his cock was amazing. And the way it was all
stretched tight, I have to admit, did make me want to give it more than
an idle lick. But, no. That would be a bad idea. There was just a
little farther to go when my I felt his cock shudder, then a stream of
cum struck my face. I was only stunned for a second and then tried to
move out of the way, but Max turned with me, showering my face with his
cum. He had pretty well sprayed my nose and my eyes, and I had to
wipe them clear. The silence of the moment was broken suddenly by the
noise of the men, who had all left their seats for a closer look.

Steven, thankfully, took the lead to control the situation. "Guys,
we're all pretty well pent up here. Hayley, if we promise to buy one
of whatever's left in the boxes, and tip you on top of that, you
wouldn't mind the rest of us cumming, would you?" THIS was helping? I
couldn't believe it!

My brain started to raise an objection, but if it's possible, conscious
thought stopped. They mistook my silence for permission, and Steven
was among the first to lower his pants and start stroking his cock.
The others gathered around me. Eight of them, with Max watching.
Max's cock had been the first cock I'd seen other than my husband's
since...well, since another guy had seen me naked in college. It had
been a long time. And here I was, surrounded by variety. Short, long,
thick and thin. Straight, curved, hairy and almost bare. Small balls
and...huge ones. Oh my. Lou looked loaded. But they were all bright
red, with pronounced veins on the shafts, swollen heads that looked
about to pop, and openings which were already wet. Pre-cum. Turned on
by me, a married housewife.

I was afraid of where this could end up, but Steven was here. Control
remained the issue, but it was like inviting my own doom. "Go ahead
and step closer! Surely some of you would like me to help." I reached
to my sides, and grabbed two cocks, one of which was Lou's. Steven
could just stroke himself silly. I wasn't giving him any help. The
cocks felt wonderfully thick, warm, and...alive. It was hard to divert
my attention from their raging hard-ons, but I looked to see Steven,
still with the wicked grin, but with a distant look in his eyes, as he
was staring at my breasts, or perhaps the cum that had dripped on
them.

"Big tips...boys." My voice faltered as Steven shot into my hair and on
my shoulder. He hadn't cum for a week, and his goo seemed to coat me
like a blanket. My fault, I suppose, for not emptying him earlier. A
hot splash hit me on my cheek, and I turned to see Hugh's cock blasting
his white goo towards me, little trails arching in the air towards me.
Then the bottom dropped out. cum was coming from everywhere, and I was
caught between watching these men's cocks and closing my eyes to avoid
their cum. The smell of cum seemed to permeate the room, or did it?
My face was coated. I probably couldn't smell a rose if they held it
up to me.

The men had been shouting all sorts of things that I had never thought
I would hear directed to me... "bitch," "cum covered slut," "bay-beeeee."
I supposed that this was their way of saying that this was their fantasy,
too. But as they emptied their cocks, some semblance of reason took hold,
and they backed away from me a little bit. As I stood, I realized that
they just wanted a better look. Or if they had ideas of touching,
maybe they just didn't want to get their hands wet. I wiped cum from
my face, but it felt super sticky in my hands, so I wiped my hand off
on a breast, which was already wet enough. They thought I was teasing
them, and, it turned out I was, as a string of cum dangled from my
nipple. I couldn't help but laugh, so I wiped some more cum onto a
finger and made a show of it by admiring the dangling goo before I
wiped it off, over acting my search for a dry spot to wipe it off.
What a mess. I asked for the towel, which Lou found tucked away
behind Steven. Surely Steven hadn't tried to hide it. I noticed that
the guys' dicks were slowly getting harder, and I had to regain
control before...

I wiped my face and hands off with the towel, then wrapped it around
myself like a bath towel. Steven, at last, did something to help my
situation, and pulled his pants up. The others seemed to follow his
lead at that, at least.

Now it was time for an accounting, and the men found their lists. The
towel fell off as I tried to select their orders from my stock, which
Steven and Hugh had brought in from the car. I found my panties, and
pulled them up, my juices quickly wetting them. I hadn't sold anything
in the nude before, but, standing there, almost naked, with dried cum
here and there, well, most everywhere, seemed to keep their interest.
I raked a hand through my hair, finding some wet cum with my fingers,
Steven's probably, and wiped it on my breast, then smoothed it out to
dry. I had their attention. "A deal is a deal, gentlemen."

The total was just over $8,000, by far a record. I had sold about
$3500 in products, which was excellent for a group of 8. I was
definitely going home with some spending money.

Lou asked if I would promise to do another show, in lieu of whatever
arrangements I had made to pay his wife for hosting. Steven didn't
object, so I said, "Sure. But the same rules." It quickly became
unlikely that Lou was going to arrange another group, however, as his
wife arrived home with a friend to see me packing my boxes, bare
breasted, and the smell of cum obvious in the air. And, if she
couldn't smell the cum, I was sure she could figure out what the sticky
stuff on her hardwood floors was all by herself. Her friend almost
fainted, and retreated out the door.

Steven and I were the last ones to leave. Lou's driveway was
relatively private from the street, and I couldn't wait any longer.
Steven was just starting his car, parked a ways behind mine. I bent
over my trunk, raised my skirt, and looked over my shoulder in
invitation. His car started, he turned on the headlights, and then
I heard the opening and shutting of the car door. Blinded, I heard
only footsteps and a slight "zip" before I felt him enter me. Hard.
Wonderfully Hard. You just can't buy a toy quite like that, but this
thought was interrupted by the pleasure of my husband filling me and
the sound of a slammed door somewhere deep in the house.


Comments and suggestions are desired, especially from those who have
shared it with their spouses. It would only take a few moments
to make an author very happy...

E-mail to: OneIdleHand@hotmail.com

See my other stories at www.asstr.org/~IdleHand (case sensitive)

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(c) Copyright 2001
This work is copyrighted to the author, with all rights
reserved. -- This work may be archived and displayed on
non-commercial web sites without permission, but please
do not remove the author name or e-mail address.
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