Went to a house party and my husband, being the dancing fool he is, was casting a spell like some voodoo priest that had the whole house jumping. Nobody was immune to his wiles, and as usual, he ended up putting it down hard on me.
You know for someone claiming to be an introvert, this mother fucker was like the pied piper, and had the whole house bumpin and grinding like we all were on Soul Train. The music was hitting different, and whenever he gets on the dance floor, everyone seems to get a second wind. We ran the gamut from breakdance circles to conga lines, and like I stated, we took it all the way back to the Soul Train line dance days, and had couples showcasing all their best dance moves. Good times are always on the menu with this oxymoron of an introverted party boi, but something else was afoot at this particular party that none of us saw coming.
First off, all of us at this party have been friends for over two decades, we’ve done a lot together, been through divorces, had babies that have grown and gone, and we’re all thick as thieves, but one such party goer particularly is always extra extra, and as usual, he pushed the envelope. We suspect that he spiked the party sangria with molly, and thankfully the party was sold as an adult only party which scared all our respective young adult kids away. So not only were we all under the trance of my party boi, but we were also tripping balls, and it wasn’t long before the dance floor became one big hot sweaty, yet beautiful mess.
Leave it to my husband to be the first to start shedding clothes. He never has any fucks to give, and even though he shouldn’t, he acts like he doesn’t have anything to be self conscious about. He easily sells it though with his bravado, and he soon had us in another dance circle called dirty dancing, and my bad ass husband turned an innocent conga line into a Magic Mic’s open rehearsal. He is already an overt sexual dancer, and before we knew it, we were all out there acting the ass. Might as well had been straight up fuckin out there, and the mix of sweat and alcohol, and god knows what else made me think that there should’ve been a couple defibrillators in the wings too. There was definitely dirty dancing vibes fueling our latest dance craze, and my husband was vying for a spot in my dance crew. If there wasn’t just enough fabric still covering the critical areas, somebody might had gotten pregnant. People were already curious about how extra we all were being, and our suspicions were validated when that one party goer confessed, and it was how he did, that made this party one for the ages.
He had his wife pinned in the corner of the dance floor, and they were heatedly kissing as he rooted for truffles from between her legs. She was normally more collected, but this night she was beside herself. She was obviously game though, and when my husband got too close, she tried lasso him into there little private dance party. He instinctively dodged their advances and scrambled back to me and was like what is going on? He had been so busy just being the zone that he hadn’t noticed all the symptoms everyone was showing. I mentioned that I thought someone spiked the punch, and it hit him like a ton a bricks as he smacked his forehead like duh. I instinctively went to button up his shirt, but I too drank the punch, and got distracted by his hunky self as we both slipped back into our own dirty dancing. It was getting kind of dangerous out there, and not everyone was shy about it.
The husband of the couple we suspected of the deed was also the one that tried to corral my husband; even the host and hostess were out here sweating buckets on the dance floor and getting more than handsy with each other. I noticed those who didn’t partake in the sangria take their cues and start for the door, but there were still at least five of us hardcore couples left that were just getting started. I warned my husband that things might get hairy, and he looked around and stated that we were at least in good company. I curtsied with my head, saying, “I’m game,” and we continued our dirty dance. We were all in the zone and tripping balls, and somehow my husband lost his shirt, getting low, low, low, and made me jump out of my skin when he bit my mound over my skirt. I was like holy shit, I guess we’re doing this, and grabbed him by the head to grind his face into my hot pocket. He came up for a heated kiss and didn’t come alone. His cock was stressing his zipper and he said, “See what you did”?
Some people stopped and watched, others like us partied on, but the panties were dropping. I was at least able to keep us in ‘the necking through the clothes stage’ for a minute, but the happy couple that nearly captured my husband was way past go. She was currently sitting on a bar stool while her husband fucked her right there and buried his face in her exposed perfect breasts, while drawing a quite the crowd I might say. Not ones to be left out; we also moseyed over to watch, because why not? They apparently had nothing to hide, and as we all circled them, the husband graciously spread her legs just enough to give us all a better view. It felt like we were watching a rodeo as she had her long flowing skirt balled up in her lap, one hand holding her to the stool, and the other around his neck while he plunged his cock in and out of her. They tried to lasso my husband again, and he expertly ducked their advances after he grabbed both of her perfect breasts from behind and kneaded them to her hard nipples, which drove both of them wild. He smartly ran away feeling that they were Jonesing for some extra dick.
Maybe next time I quipped as I pulled my troublemaker back to me. I was turned on by all the sex in the air, and the show had just begun. Our hosts were also in the mix, and we don’t call him big D for nothing. He is well over six feet tall, and now we knew that carpet matches the drapes because he was packing for an extended stay. His wife is a gorgeous columbian, and we got more than a little distracted watching her bury that cock. It soon became clear that this wasn’t their first rodeo either, as he took long running starts at her from behind. I didn’t know where to look because his fabulous cock was killing her from behind, while her voluptuous natural breasts were swaying and bouncing off her with each blow. My husband and I could’ve popped some corn for as long as we dilly-dallied watching them. We all exchanged telling, or pleading looks, but we decided to move on to partake in our own festivities. We walked through the house to find somewhere a little more private, the pool table was occupied by some of our hot jamaican flavored friends so we settled for the traditional couch lovin because the bedrooms were off limits for obvious reasons; it was a party after all.
There were sounds of sex throughout the house, sensuous moans, and the slaps of bodies colliding really set the tone, and thankfully all my husband still had on were his still stressed jeans. We embraced and kissed hungrily as I worked to free my own magic mic. He had pushed it up into his waist to relieve the obvious pressure so when I unbuttoned his jeans and pulled his waistband down, his fat cock fell like a tree onto my waiting airbags. I picked his cock up off my breasts and held it as it danced in my hand in anticipation, and I took one last look around before taking it into my hungry mouth. I never tasted something so good, it felt like it was filling me in so many places. I couldn’t even care to stop, even when the instigator sat next to me, and watched enviously. Thankfully he got distracted again by his wife who first grabbed me by the pony and pulled me off my mic before adoringly giving me a hot kiss on my dick glossed lips before once again guiding my mouth back over it until completely sheathing it in the back of my throat. My husband quickly became too impatient to play too, and also pulled me off him, and kissed me deep as he doesn’t mind the taste of his own cock. He then pushed me back into the couch, and with my skirt now up around my waist, he pushed my thighs wide to give me a deeper kiss. My panties were soaked through as he mouthed my cunt over them, I hurried to move my panties to the side so that we all could get a better view. I was so horney, hot and bothered that I was ready for some deep hard dick. Maybe not that D size dick, but more the funsize my man was packing. He’s probably eight or nine inches and as thick as my wrist, and I only guesstimate that by how little of his cock I can still see when he’s buried deep inside me. He fills me perfectly to where nothing is left outside our bodies to keep us from still rockin and slapping together in harmony.
He didn’t even remove my panties and just slid his fat cock under the edge of them and inside of me. I moved them to the side again so as not to give him rope burn while I took advantage of myself and massaged my happy bean. I threw a pillow under his knees to save the rug burn there as well; thoughtful, I know. Maybe it was the juice, but I didn’t feel self-conscious about the crowd that started to gather. Even when Big D hovered close, it didn’t scare me. His beautiful wife wrapped her hand around it and seemed to match my husband’s cadence as he fucked me. He got to hitting it so hard that I had to corral my free breasts as they danced all over my chest. Our hostess’s hand kept the pace on her husband’s cock like a speedometer as she jacked his obnoxiously large cock over us. I admit I was mesmerized by it, but I only thought twice when I thought it might blow all over us. My husband is pretty cool, but I think it might have ruined the mood. Thankfully, our hostess read my mind and finished him in the back of her throat just in time, which was an impressive feat in its own right. I was cumming and didn’t care that my husband had me stretched wide like Gumby, and I had two handfuls of cushion to help keep me from rocketing out the window behind us. He asked if he could cum, and I told him that I already was, and that was all he needed to hear.
He wrapped his strong arms around my thighs and lifted my ass off the couch. He rammed his cock so hard that I could feel my ass bones smashing against his pelvis. It was a standing ovation because all I could hear was ohs and ahs and the claps of our bodies until he came like a big bear, followed by the cheers and shouts for an encore. Our bodies shook together in climax, and that is when I was shook awake by my husband. He mentioned it was time to start getting ready for the party and asked what I was dreaming about. I told him the whole story of my wet dream, and I was still horney af as I pawed at my magic mic to which he quipped, “You sure you’re ready for some of this fun size luvin,” before pulling his obvious appreciation from his sweats, to show he was up for the task.
Happy Hump Day!!
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