They say every marriage has a seven year itch. Mine did (perhaps more than once along the way), though it was different from the stereotypical disturbances that occur in many relationships. I had a three year itch, not seven. But more importantly, it wasn’t about finding someone other than my husband that could scratch that itch. I’ll explain.
A few months before our third anniversary, I began fantasizing about our public display of sex from the honeymoon we took in Aruba. Having rented a catamaran for just the two of us one day, we spent several hours snorkeling and swimming in various locations around the island. One of the most interesting stops was a sunken World War II boat in fairly shallow waters.
Having taken several dives below the surface to check out the bow of the ship, as well as a couple around the midsection, we were both pretty well exhausted. With one or two other boats continually anchored around the same sunken ship, a few handfuls of other tourists were spread regularly about the open water. Once we’d seen enough, Holden and I agreed to head for a more secluded spot, away from the other divers. We picked an area above the north end of the island, just far enough away that we could see a thin strip of land atop the horizon, and anchored ourselves for a rest.
After enjoying a late lunch, we fell fast asleep on the netting between the hulls at the front of the catamaran. Afraid of not waking under the hot sun, I covered my face with a sun hat and attempted to keep my eyes open, though to no avail. The sleep was deep, yet cut very short, as I felt a tongue slip into my bikini bottoms and pass over the top of my slit. Holden pressed his mouth against my mound, nibbling at my clit while I slowly woke, moaning. I love waking to the sensation of my partner just taking me, fully devouring me.
He played and toyed, probing the flesh. I wrapped my ankles over both shoulders and behind his neck, pulling that magnificent tongue deeper. Eating me to an amazing first orgasm, I screamed in ecstasy, writhing in sheer pleasure. I flipped him over on the netting and pulled his cock out, ready to return the favor. While going down on his thick schlong, my eyes caught movement to one side.
With my peripheral vision, I could see that another boat had pulled within half of a football field of us. Aware that several passengers were on the deck staring in our direction, I feigned as if not to notice and continued sucking Holden down. Excited at the idea of having an audience, I overemphasized every stroke, each movement.
Finally, I climbed on board his steely pole and rode him deep, throwing my head up toward the sun. Pulling my bikini top to one side, I squeezed one tit and frigged the tip of my clit to a second screaming orgasm. Noise is easily lost at sea, so I made sure to squeal loud and long, arching my breasts outward.
The thrill of being watched, of putting on a performance, was incredibly exhilarating. I don’t think my clit had ever been harder than that moment when I came for the audience. I pulled all of Holden’s cum deep into my waiting hole. My pussy lips clenched down around Holden’s hard staff, squeezing violent spurts of jizz, utterly draining his balls.
Once I finished screaming, I pretended to be surprised by the other boat. Four guys stood at the rail, their fishing poles resting against the seats behind them. All four clapped enthusiastically as I faked mild embarrassment, although really I was beaming with pride inside.
Ever since that day, I had always wanted to do something similar again, to perform for an audience. I was never sure how to make that happen, as no situation ever seemed to feel right. There was sex in the back seat of a car in a parking lot but that seemed too much like an old high school cliché. We could fuck at a park, but I needed to know only adults would be nearby. No matter what locations came to mind, it just didn’t seem like I’d be recreating the same kind of experience. And it all felt so planned out.
I had shared my fantasies many times with Holden and let him know how interested I was in finding a means of reliving our public sex. We role played several times as if others were watching while I gave him head or rode his face. Of late, I had been bringing the subject up even more than usual. The idea was nearly an obsession for me, as just thinking about it turned me on more than ever.
Several weeks prior to our anniversary, Holden announced that we’d be spending a couple of nights in San Francisco for our special weekend. Not wanting to spoil the fun he might have planned, I simply asked what clothes I should pack and how to dress.
“Bring some casual clothes for the daytime”, Holden responded. “We’ll probably go out to the pier and ride a cable car. You know, tourist stuff.”
“Ooh, we’re going to play tourist in our own hometown, huh?” I teased, whispering in his ear and kissing along the neck.
“Yeah, we never get up to the city,” he said, giving my ass a hard squeeze. “And bring some sexy clothes for the evening.”
“How sexy?” I asked.
“Very sexy,” he replied. “Bring that black skirt and corset. The one with the shiny embossed pattern on the front.”
Men don’t always know how to describe women’s clothing but Holden gets the point across fairly well. I knew what he was talking about. He loved that outfit in particular and, more importantly, I loved wearing that top. It never failed to attract attention, guys and girls both doing double takes to check me out.
A few weeks later, we packed for the weekend and headed up to the city on a Friday afternoon, wanting to arrive while it was still light out. We checked into our room, an up-scale, old style hotel on Union Square. Holden went out for a couple of lattes which, this late in the day, typically meant that he intended for us to stay up late.
I can usually get ready for a night out fairly quickly, but on this night, I really wanted to take my time. Showering and slowly primping, I complemented my outfit with a sexy new G-string that barely covered my slit in front with a light, see through mesh. The ensemble was topped off with a pair of my favorite CFM’s, or “Come Fuck Me” pumps - four inch heels that tightened my calves and ass when I walked. I typically would have worn six inch heels, but that’s a little much for several hours of walking around the streets of San Francisco.
Heading downstairs around 6 pm, we walked seven or eight blocks to dinner. Even the middle of summer isn’t typically hot by any means, but the evening was fairly warm, at least by San Francisco standards. Still in the mid-seventies Fahrenheit, I knew by midnight it was likely to be about ten degrees cooler. I could see the outline of Holden’s semi-hard erection in his pants as he walked. God, I love his cock!
Arriving at the restaurant, we were led to a table toward the back. Holden took considerable time eating and drinking, clearly not in a hurry. We spent nearly two hours, enjoying each other’s company and reminiscing about our marriage. Anniversaries tend to create reflection and ours are no different. With so much of the relationship centering heavily around sex, reflections for us, as you would expect, are a blend of loving moments and sizzling passion.
Leaving the restaurant around 9 pm, Holden led the way to a bar a couple of blocks back toward the hotel, so I assumed we were having a drink or two before turning in for the night. Many people tend to think a wedding anniversary means hot sex, but in my case, I anticipate hot sex nearly every night. Why should anniversaries be any different? Never withhold sex from your partner.
After a couple of gin and tonics, however, Holden apparently had other ideas in mind. We left the bar heading towards the hotel again but, rather than turning in, he led me straight past the front doors and down toward Market Street. I knew better than to ask where we were going and simply followed his lead.
Holden had been kissing my neck all night and stroking my inner thighs, his fingers grazing dangerously close to the mesh panties. The anticipation of the evening was almost more than I could bear and to have Holden turning me on with frequent touching only made matters worse. That new G-String was dewy and moist, lubricating my lips as I walked. I’m starting to ache badly.
After walking about eight blocks past the hotel, we arrived at an establishment called the Power Exchange. We had talked about this place many times, after hearing about it from friends who had checked it out. The Power Exchange is a sex club in San Francisco that’s open nearly all night, where patrons explore their desires. Sex is allowed in the club but, as you can imagine, there are quite a few rules in place to ensure a safe environment.
My belly fluttered with anticipation, unsure of what we were about to experience. The bouncers looked me up and down with apparent approval, as did a couple of guys standing outside smoking. Holden had been dead on, as usual, about what I should wear that night. The corset held my tits snugly on display and the skirt was high enough to show plenty of leg. If I bend over, I’m sure the underside of my pussy would be visible.
Holden paid the cover charge, a much lower amount for couples, and guided me inside. I had been holding a light sweater all night, expecting cooler weather but it hadn’t even been necessary. Checking it in at the front, Holden bought a couple of bottled waters. Nearly dizzy with excitement, I couldn’t wait to explore the place, to see what it was really like in a sex club.
The entrance is actually on the middle floor, with a stage toward the back of the main room. It wasn’t currently in use, though I could imagine the interesting shows that likely took place in a sex club. There were several couches set around the room, mostly along the walls, as well as a few intriguing contraptions.
One in particular was in the shape of a sawhorse like my dad used back on the farm when he was working with wood. This one definitely wasn’t for building a barn, as evidenced by the leather padding wrapped over the top and the straps fastened to all four legs. Behind that, a wooden “X” was affixed to the wall, clearly for binding a person, fully spread. Maybe Holden plans to strap me spread open in front of everyone.
Patrons of the club at this point were mostly guys, including two in their twenties that looked as if they were waiting outside a brothel for their first real experience with a woman. Eyes wide, their head darted in multiple directions with obvious excitement, hoping to see sex, virtually any kind of sex. Another guy sat on a couch with a lingerie clad girl next to him. She was relatively attractive, though looked so sad, almost despondent. Perhaps she was just shy and uncertain.
Descending a flight of stairs down into what appeared to be a dungeon, the red and black lights along each wall were dim, while loud thrash metal played overhead. Several rooms lined either side of the hallway, each with small beds or couches, many containing riding crops, cuffs, straps, and similar implements. There were quite a few tools I had never seen before. Clearly this was an entirely new world to me. I could probably get into cuffs and crops.
As intriguing as this level of the club was, Holden guided me upstairs again, then up a second set to the third level. This top floor was comprised of one main area that was mostly open, overlooking the stage below. There were two additional, darker rooms and one in particular was nearly pitch black. I could hear moans and peered inside, seeing nothing at all, just darkness. Sounds like more than two people.
Holden explained that this particular Friday was an all access night, where the top floor was open to everyone. There were select Fridays where only single ladies and couples were allowed on the top floor. Apparently, Holden had purposely picked a night that was fully open so that we might have a larger audience.
The full gravity of the situation was hitting me. Holden was going to recreate our public display from Aruba. It was my first thought walking through the entrance downstairs, but now it was actually sinking in. What was he planning? To fuck in front of everyone? To let other guys touch me? I was going to be exposed soon, my pussy being watched, ogled. It was very different from a boat hundreds of feet away from four strangers. Could I really go through with fucking in front of everyone here in this club? Fuck, I’m wet.
Besides the guy-girl combo downstairs, there were only a few couples on this third floor. One pair leaned over the railing watching others sitting around on the level below. Another couple cuddled on a sofa against the wall in the first upstairs room. Six or seven guys wandered through, waiting for someone, anyone to put on a show. Two girls walked slowly up the stairs holding hands, whispering in each other’s ears. There must be over a dozen people on this floor.
Settling on the first room, Holden led me to a large area in the corner with quite a few large pillows and cushions, opposite the couple on the sofa. The lights were low, my eyes needing a few minutes to fully adjust. Once my sight regulated to the lighting, I could better see the others. I checked out the couch couple first.
The guy was tall, with very short hair that matched his thick, but equal length beard and mustache. A strong jawline afforded him a durable and stalwart presence. Looking to be in his mid-forties, he appeared to be very fit, having that look of spending considerable time in the gym. Though his midsection had accumulated a little extra girth, it was less than most guys at that age. He wore a tight shirt, open in the front to the middle of his pecs, and semi-loose jeans. Thick chest.
The lady with him had flowing, raven black hair and a pursed smile. A voluptuous figure with breasts to match, her face was so pretty, with big eyes. Even in the dim light, I could see the long eyelashes and clear complexion. Leaning against the guy’s chest, she had one hand placed on his groin atop the loose jeans. Both smiled in our direction as we sat on the cushions, as if to acknowledge and welcome us. Fuck, she has a nice chest too.
The couple against the railing looked to be in their late twenties to early thirties. An attractive pair, they seemed a bit young, or perhaps just inexperienced. Certainly they didn’t appear too straight laced, just a bit wide-eyed. I assumed them to be at a point in their relationship where they were looking to push boundaries, to try something new to spice up their sex life.
Holden and I talked for twenty minutes or so while others milled about, room to room. The couple on the couch across from us were kissing and necking, mildly toying with each other. The two girls walked through twice, holding hands and laughing quietly between themselves.
“So, you brought me here to put on a show?” I poked at Holden. “Is that how this works, people come here and fuck?”
“For the most part, people do whatever they want here,” Holden explained, not taking the bait of sarcasm. “And I brought you here for the same, to do whatever you want. Completely up to you, love.”
“Thank you. It’s a wonderful surprise,” I said, dropping my sarcasm. “I love that you’re so open to my fantasies.”
“It’s not really a fantasy if you’ve already done it, is it?” Holden smirked.
“It’s still my fantasy,” I said. “But last time, I didn’t know it was going to happen. I have time to think now. How can you be sure that I can do this?”
“If you’re unsure, then we can just sit here and talk,” he responded. “We’re here at a club that allows you to have sex in front of strangers if you want to, or we could just sit and talk. But I do think you want this.”
I kissed Holden, deeply, passionately. He’s such a wonderful man, allowing me to just be me - mentally, emotionally, physically, sexually. Many men (and women), would be insecure in such situations. I’m not exactly your typical girl – I love sex, I enjoy discovering, I relish in sharing and being open. My sexual expression has progressed over time, as I’ve learned new ways of loving, of pleasing myself and others.
And not only is Holden okay with it, he encourages it. He never seems to fear that I might find someone else more attractive or that I might stray from our relationship. While I might enjoy another person (or two), Holden knows that I’ll always return to him. I couldn’t ask for a better partner.
“Veronica, how far would you want to go?” Holden prodded. “You want to play in front of an audience again?”
I hesitated. I wanted to make sure. Once I make a decision, I rarely change my mind.
“Yes, I want to play with each other,” I said, excitement welling inside. “Get me off in front of everyone. The biggest thrill for me was cumming for the guys on the boat.”
“Okay, love,” he whispered. “Whatever fulfills your fantasies…”
“Thank you, Holden,” I whispered enthusiastically in his ear. “I’m not sure how far I want to go, like actually fucking. But I want you to get me off. I’ve been dying for you to touch me for hours. I’m so wet, honey.”
Holden slid one hand under my skirt. Fingers teased and danced across the outer mesh, wetness steeping through, onto his skin. My head flipped back, tits reaching toward the ceiling. His hand was so close, my pussy ached and yearned to be fingered. Please slip two in.
Holden and I played, kissing and necking as if we were again teenagers. Fingers traced my lips, pressed material into the slit. Beads of pussy moisture soaked my inner thigh. The ache was only partially quelled with the touch as I still needed to be filled. I wanted fingers to slide inside, brushing past my clit and outer hole. Rip my panties and finger me.
“You have admirers, love,” Holden said, continuing to stroke my puffy lips. “They’re watching.”
I looked around, peering through semi-parted eyelids. The couple was still on the couch, a renewed interest in our activities. Several figures that I couldn’t quite discern entered the room. Others loitered nearby to watch the impending show.
“Please Holden, slip them inside,” I quietly begged. “Whisper to me while you play.”
My eyes were glazing rapidly from the sensation, hips rocking in an upward, circular motion. The tight skirt limited Holden’s movement, preventing my legs from fully spreading. Opening my eyes, I saw the two girls from earlier propped against the wall to my left, touching each other. One was holding the other’s hand down her pants, riding in short gyrations. Slide into me Holden.
“Oh God,” I squealed. “Finger me, fuck me!” I need it deep.
Holden lifted my skirt with his other hand as I began massaging his cock. I wriggled my ass to help push the tight fabric up the thighs and past my hips. I peered at our neighbors and saw them watching intently. Holden pulled the mesh panties to one side and gently plunged two fingers halfway in. I lifted my buttocks, fully exposing my pussy to the shadowy light. They’re looking at my cunt!
“You’re sopping wet, Veronica,” Holden said.
“Yes, God, yes,” I responded. “I’m so turned on.”
My hand moved along Holden’s leg as I swiped the length of his cock, down to the balls. His marbles were pulled up tight beneath the hard log. Stroking Holden’s thickness, I could feel the big head through his slacks. Gripping the sides, I tugged, sliding my hand to his balls again and back up. Even the firm tube running along the bottom of his shaft enlarged. He’s as turned on as I am.
Light moans surrounded me as I squinted through the room. A couple more figures were standing near the arched doorway, bringing the total to ten or twelve spectators. The lady across from us was stroking her man, rubbing what appeared to be a large cock. I want to see it.
“The girl over there is stroking her guy,” Holden continued. “She’s watching you and caressing it through his pants. I think she’s going to take it out.” Take that cock out. Please.
I clutched Holden’s hand, pumping it into my depths, pressing his palm to my clit. Between half-shut eyelids, I watched the girl unzip the guy’s jeans. It took a moment before she was able to wrangle it out and pop it against his own stomach. I could have sworn I heard it slap against skin. Fuck, he’s huge!
“God, Holden,” I breathed. “His cock is so fucking big.”
“Yes, I see, love,” he said, rhythmically fingering my hole.
I was euphoric, seemingly every nerve stimulated, desperately needing this fucking. A couple of guys had joined the room and were standing nearby, stroking exposed cocks. Under other circumstances, they might have been too close. But in this case, somehow it didn’t matter. I could reach out to hold their firm flesh if I were inclined.
I yanked my panties further to the side. Everyone watched as Holden fingered me, the view largely obstructed by his hand and my thighs. I widened my legs and lifted my ass. I gave them a better view. Look. Watch my pussy ride these fingers.
“Oh, God, yes!” I panted, loud enough for the room to hear. “Please, get me off.” I want them to hear me talk dirty.
Those fingers continued sliding in and out, one thumb against my clit. I stroked Holden’s cock faster, squeezing the edges, and separated my thighs further apart. Pulling a pillow from behind me, I placed it beneath my ass, lifting my pussy to give the audience a closer look. Getting comfortable, I laid back, pulling the skirt further up my waist, my pussy the center of everyone’s attention.
“Fuck me Holden,” I whispered more loudly now. “Finger me, make me cum.” They hear my dirty talk.
Holden decreased the tempo, giving his thumb more steady control over my clit. Frigging side to side, he positioned the tip just under my hood, the exact spot that seemed to always pull my cum from deep within.
“Oh, God, fuck!” I breathed, nearly shouting this time. Fuck my slit.
Scanning the room from one side to the other, I could make out several handfuls of people watching, voyeurs silently applauding my sex. My lips separated, cunt proudly open, clit straining for that final touch that would cast me over the edge.
“Yeah, girl,” a deep voice said. “That’s it baby, cum for us.”
The sound of furious stroking came from cocks on both sides of me. The couple across the way played with each other and watched keenly as I neared release. My hips rocked, performing for the room, fucking those magical fingers.
“Fuck, there it is,” I yelled. “I’m going to cum!” Drain me.
I couldn’t take any more. Throwing my head back, I pulled my corset down, freeing my tits, pushing them upward. My hands pressed them together as my ass clenched. My pussy peaked and popped, juices surging outward onto Holden’s hand. Holding on tight, he continued working the orgasm methodically out. With a few last presses against my clit, I grasped his hand and held it firmly.
“Yes, fuck!” I breathed one last time, body shaking. “Slow baby, let me finish. Jesus!”
Not wanting to lose the audience, I quickly recovered and rolled toward Holden. Clutching at his slacks, I freed his cock, popping it quickly into my mouth. I typically move more slowly and deliberately, relishing the feel of a head filling my mouth, stretching me, gradually working it deeper. This time, I wanted it fast, engulfing the meat in one downward thrust. Watch me suck this cock.
I lifted, then plunged straight down. Holden moaned, not expecting me to take him so swiftly. Tilting my head to one side, I pulled my long hair behind one ear, providing the room with front row seats. His length continuously slid past my lips, drool watering the sides of the shaft.
“Damn, girl, yes!” a guy prodded. “Suck that cock down!”
“Yeah, look at her take that thing in,” said another.
This was all the urging I needed. I drew air into my throat, opening up to pull the head past the back of my tongue. Holden’s cock is typically difficult to take in deep, but now my lips smashed against his base.
“Veronica, fuck!” he exclaimed. “It’s tight in your throat!” Fuck my mouth.
Pulling back out, I kept my throat open, drew a breath, and plunged once more. Over and over, I lifted my head off Holden, spit streaming down his sides. Cupping his balls, I squeezed the base of the shaft and released.
“Oh God, honey,” I heard a woman’s voice. “She's going deep!”
“Veronica, I’m going to cum if you keep that up,” Holden groaned. Give me your load.
Redoubling my efforts, I applied suction to the head, lifting the skin toward his swollen knob. Holden’s cock was so hard, his sheath hardly even moved. I felt a first drop of pre-cum spread across the tongue and over the roof of my mouth. The first drops of Holden’s jizz were typically sticky and stringy. I swallowed hard to pull the stringy filament down.
“Yes, baby, here it comes,” Holden announced. Let go. I want your essence.
“Fuck, she’s going to swallow his load,” said the girl across from us, stroking her man’s cock harder.
“Yeah, there it is!” Holden yelled. It’s mine.
I struggled to maintain suction as his hips lifted. Placing one hand on the back of my head, Holden gently pressed his cock deeper. I gagged as it penetrated further into my throat hole, his base mashed against my lips. Saliva rushed into my mouth, making it difficult to swallow without spitting it across his lap. I wanted to take down every drop for my audience. I won’t disappoint you.
The first spurt shot into my throat. Keeping it wide open, the shots of jizz pumped straight in, altogether bypassing my swallow mechanism, allowing me to better deal with all the saliva. Eyes watering, I released him from my throat long enough to gulp down all the extra liquid that had pooled around my tongue. With his head between my lips, I cupped his balls as several more shots emptied into me and I again plunged deep. Holden shouted and tensed, girth spreading my lips apart.
“God, I think she took it all down,” a guy said to my right.
I was teared up, but continued swallowing until the last gobs squeezed from his tool. My tongue snaked his length, polishing the remaining jizz from his skin. Snapping back to reality, I loosed Holden and zipped his slacks closed. Finally able to assess the room, there were now nearly two dozen people, mostly guys, watching me give head.
Holden needed a couple of minutes to recover as I was given plenty of kudos and encouragement. I stood and fixed the skirt back down my thighs and saw the couple that had been watching me.
“That was good, girl,” she said. I was beaming inside. Thank you.
“Umm, thanks,” I wasn’t sure what to say.
“No, I mean, I’ve tried. I just…” she stammered. “I want to be better.”
“I mean, your man’s fucking big.” What else could I say? He’s huge!
I stayed and talked with her for a couple of minutes while Holden collected himself. I wasn’t sure where the conversation was leading, though somehow it wasn’t awkward. I was still euphoric.
The couple was from the area, so after a few minutes, I got her contact information. I suspected I would see them again. As it happens, that was true. Maybe she thinks we’re swingers.
Holden and I raced back to the hotel room as quickly as we could. I wasn’t done, not by a long shot. Fucking in public just made my pussy throb that much deeper and I needed another release – A big release!
Not even making it all the way to the bedroom, Holden ate me from behind in front of the huge glass windows of the TV room in our suite on the fourth floor. At nearly one in the morning, people continued to stroll by as I came on his face. He proceeded to press me into the glass and fuck me hard. We caught the attention of several passersby as they looked up to see our silhouettes madly fucking.
That wouldn’t be our last instance having sex in public, but I knew the next time I wanted to actually fuck for the audience. I needed to ride Holden while being watched, just as I had on the boat, only close up. Public sex was a fantasy of mine more than ever now. I need to fuck for an audience.
Sex in public, once you've done it, is a huge thrill. This wasn't quite in "public" since it was inside of a club, but was even more exhilarating. Having strangers watch, hearing them talk about what I was doing, putting on a performance for them - there's few situations that will make me wetter than this.
We've had a number of nights like this and they never get old and rarely disappoint. I love it so much, one of our role playing situations is for us to pretend that strangers are standing around our bed at home watching me suck and fuck. The orgasms by the end of the night are incredible!