Only the Spicy Bits Ch. 01

Most of my stories are relatively long - I like getting to know characters as unique, lovable people before anybody's clothes come off.

That said, I've heard from readers that it would be nice to have quick ways to return to a few of their favorite sultry scenes. So this "Only the Spicy Bits" series has excerpts re-worked to serve as stand-alones: less feature film, more ten-minute internet clip.

The following is adapted from "A Rollicking Conception."

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My husband's body was curled around my own, spooning me on the bed. We were watching a delightfully raunchy scene unfold onscreen.

My husband clutched my breast. With his other hand, he stroked my hip. As we watched, we were languorously making love. Again and again, he'd slide partway out, then slowly push deep inside me.

Onscreen, a woman knelt on a padded floor. Hemp rope bound her chest, accentuating her lovely breasts. Her nipples were pert with excitement. Her arms were tied in front of her, attached to a pulley above her head.

My husband was nuzzling the side of my neck, kissing me gently. I loved the contrast between his soft lips and the faint scratchiness of his beard.

As we watched, several men stepped into the frame. These men surrounded the kneeling woman.

I purred. My husband had picked this clip. He'd thought I might enjoy it.

I was thinking he was right.

With the men standing so close, stroking their cocks so near that kneeling woman's face, the men's intentions were clear.

And the woman's cheeks were flushed. Her hair was slightly damp, presumably from activities that transpired before this clip began. (Hopefully those preliminary festivities included a few orgasms for her!) Her cheeks were rounded in a smile, her lips curved slightly upward - she seemed quite pleased by what was happening, seemed to be welcoming this expression of the men's desire - but she also had that wide-eyed, almost startled look that I love to see when I'm topping a scene.

With her arms tied, and those men so near, all she could do was look pretty and take it.

She was doing a fine job of that. I was delighted to be watching. I'll bet those men felt thrilled to have her kneeling in their midst.

Despite how such scenes are often depicted in pornographic films, when my local kink community hosts these, the person at the center is rarely kneeling. I've often gone to spectate - my husband gets extremely turned on by the opportunity to serve as, ahem, an erect member of these crowds - and I've occasionally participated, a few times to lend a helping hand (nudge nudge!) at the periphery, keeping people sufficiently riled up that they'll be ready when it's their turn, and twice as the person in the center of the room.

For that role, I lay on a low padded table. Most people whom I've watched have worn rather less than a full compliment of clothing. I did see someone do this while dressed in a full secretarial outfit (white blouse, stockings, gray pleated skirt, all very messy by the evening's end!), but most people choose fetish gear or fancy undergarments.

On both occasions when I offered to be an evening's center of attention for a guest list that I didn't curate, consenting for anyone who wanted to come (tee hee!) to score an invitation in exchange for their STI paperwork and a signed form affirming our local community guidelines, I wore a pair of lacy black bloomers, no bra. Brand new bloomers each time, actually. After the events, we raffled my underwear off as a door prize. I hadn't masturbated during the events (that came later for me, basically as soon as I arrived home on each of those evenings), but I'd gotten the bloomers very wet, and some semen had dried in the frilly little ruffles.

Still, the winners seemed thrilled to receive them. I remember the first pretty vividly: I had already showered and changed back into my street clothes; I handed my dampened skivvies to the raffle winner and kissed him on his stubbly cheek. He blushed so hard, standing there, still wearing just his black socks, spikey bracelets, and a pleather vest.

Kink events can have strange chronologies of intimacy that way. This man had seen me nearly naked. I'd watched him masturbate. I'd cradled his balls in my palm. And then he'd come on me!

And yet the moment he'd felt embarrassed was when I leaned in to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. (At which time I also noticed, with a mix of pride and mild amusement, that he started getting hard again.)

At those events, I was happy not to be restrained. I liked being able to reach out and help people with my hands. When close friends or my husband stepped up, I liked being able to guide them toward my mouth and really help. (Which also made the scene hotter for everybody else: a few times, as soon as I started sucking someone's cock, a different person came on me right away!)

With my hands free, I could also gesture, indicating where I wanted people to come: preferably on my neck, my breasts, or my tummy rather than my face, since I wanted to keep watching.

And I was definitely glad to have my hands free when a few people got extra enthusiastic and accidentally did send semen flying up to my face - cum often feels ticklish when it's sliding alongside my nose, and I didn't want to get any in my eyes!

I know that sometimes people with a kink for this will specifically ask people to aim toward their faces, but they usually have to keep their eyes closed. I mean, more power to them, but I'd offered to be at the center because I really like watching men masturbate, and I wanted to have that excellent vantage for a whole crowd. To see their cocks above me. To see all of their flushed faces.

Some men returned my gaze, making eye contact in those final moments before they came, but most were focused on specific parts of my body: staring intently at my lips, or my bare (and, for all but the very beginning of the event, semen-spattered!) breasts, or the damp crotch of my bloomers (if I noticed someone's eyes lingering there, I might slowly writhe, spreading my legs a little wider for them), or even my feet (two guests actually asked if they could come on mine, and although I personally don't have a foot thing - I was barefoot on those evenings, but I often wear socks for sex - their desires weren't hurting anybody, so I was happy to oblige. Their cum trickling between my toes definitely wasn't the weirdest sensation that I felt that evening!).

And, god, all those men's orgasmic faces! That's something mainstream hetero pornography doesn't show often enough. Each person would approach, masturbating, about to come. They'd settle in above my body, looming over me, so very focused on me. From where I lay, I got to see each person's lips part, their jaw drop, sucking air through an open mouth, panting, breath ragged, perhaps making a crescendo of involuntary groans, so incredibly turned on, perhaps by the sight of me, or by the thought of what they were about to do, or both.

And in that very final moment, the person's eyes might squinch, their forehead crease. Their whole upper body might begin to shake. A prickle of sweat along their upper body. A tightening of their neck. Such a delight to see!

I definitely wanted to keep my eyes open the entire time!

Still, I do like bondage, and I've tried mixing rope play with this sort of scene before. Just a few times, for small gatherings of friends. When you're tied up, even if you've asked everyone to wear masquerade masks so you can fantasize about being taken by a group of strangers (not that you or I know anyone kinky enough to have asked a husband and his friends to orchestrate a scene like that!), it can feel comforting to know that you're surrounded only by people who actually care about you as a person.

As my husband and I watched the scene unfolding onscreen, though, it was unclear whether this woman had that luxury. Did all of these men love and adore the person kneeling for them? Or were they nearly strangers, having met on a film set that morning?

There was no way for me to know.

My husband's fingertips played over my nipple. He was still making love to me - sliding in and out, in and out - thrusting faster now that the activity onscreen had gotten us both excited.

As we watched, a man stepped closer. At first, the kneeling woman didn't even notice - another man was holding a big vibrator between her legs, and by then she was panting, paying only vague attention to the camera through half-lidded eyes - but someone reached out and gently steered the woman's face toward the approaching man. The person steering her face gave her cheek a little pat. She obediently opened her mouth.

Would you like to know what made this scene especially fun for me to watch?

In that moment - steered, surrounded, with a man's cock mere inches from her open mouth - the woman let out a little laugh, her flushed cheeks rounding again.

I just love the intersection between raunchy sex and open-hearted joy!

The woman looked up at the man in front of her, nodding. He angled his cock toward her parted lips. She leaned in for a moment, taking him in her mouth, all while he continued masturbating, his thumb and forefinger bumping against her lips. He groaned in pleasure. Then the woman eased back again, making a bit of space, enough that we, her audience, would be able to see. When you're trying to give a man an awesome blowjob, it's best to keep his cock in your mouth; when you're trying to put on a good show for other people to watch, sometimes you have to let him go.

But the man's cock was still so close.

Mmm, I thought, she's going to taste it.

From our perspective, we could mostly see the back of that man's tensed legs and the cute curve of his bum, but I thought about what she was seeing. I reminisced about how it felt for me to lie at the center of the room on those nights. Especially at the beginning, before anyone had come.

It was intense. I was lying there, nearly naked, my pulse racing from nervousness and excitement. Lo-fi electronica spilled from the speakers. I watched as a few dozen people were masturbating around me, most of them also minimally clothed. A few men, around the circle, were being fondled by scantily dressed partners, who'd come to watch the event. For me, that made it hotter - knowing that there were also women in the crowd, who wanted to see this happen.

Yes, it was nerve-wracking, but it also felt amazing to have everyone's eyes on me. To be at the center of so much lusty, libidinous, laser focus. To watch them watching. To see all those men getting so close.

I made eye contact with my husband. He gave me an encouraging smile. Also, he'd gotten naked and was stroking his big cock, just like everybody else. That was really hot.

And then, finally, the first person felt sufficiently riled up. He sauntered in toward me. Approaching with cock in hand. He was a trim man, perhaps in his early fifties, whose name I didn't know and whom I've never played with one-on-one. I remember him as having a very elegant-looking penis. Slender and long. I exhaled with a shudder. I gestured vaguely above my chest. He nodded but kept staring at my lips. He licked his own. I think I gulped?

Luckily, that first man didn't make me wait for long. (Sometimes people step up too soon, or feel nervous once they actually get near you, and they might have to step back again to masturbate some more before they're really ready.) I was still watching that trim man's face when he came: he tossed his head back and suddenly I felt it, a warm patter landing between my breasts, some of it pooling, some sliding down my skin.

And then, after he came, it was like a dam had burst. Once the crowd had seen me like that, already decorated with one man's cum, the others approached more readily, sometimes one person after another, sometimes two or three together.

My eyes might fix on their stroking hands, the hard cocks wrapped by their fingers... one unfamiliar penis after another approaching as I lay there, each unique in their panoply of colors, sizes, and shapes... stubby or long, slender or thick, curved or ramrod straight... each cock in turn momentarily commanding the entirety of my attention when brought so near... but then my gaze might slide up along the person's forearm... tensed and stroking... and then, my eyes roaming farther, I'd get to take in a new man's body looming over mine... pale or dark, chiseled or soft, a lovely reminder of all the world's pleasurable variety... and then onward, farther, toward their straining necks, veins prominent... their flushed faces, with such unguarded displays of pleasure...

As I lay there, trembling, watching each person who'd approached my supine body, watching them stroke their hard cocks, it was so awesome to know, each time, that the person was masturbating to the sight of me. Staring at my face, my body. That the thought of doing this with me had gotten them so turned on.

With me?

Yes, and also: to me.

For me.

And each time another person was about to come, in those anticipatory moments, I found myself squirming, the blanket bunching beneath my shoulder blades. Because I imagined what they were thinking. A man staring at my crotch: I was nearly naked, but was he fantasizing about yanking that last little bit of fabric off, pulling my frilly bloomers down and taking me? Right there, in front of the entire crowd?

Sometimes I had to squeeze my legs together, it was so intense. But then I'd slowly part my legs again. To let people see. To let them carry on with their fantasies.

Just, god: knowing, each time, that they were about to come.

While I was watching.

While a whole roomful of people was watching!

While, for some of them, their spouses were watching. A partner perhaps slyly smiling, wet, excited, as she watched her husband stroke himself off, lusting over my body...

And then, from the glans, a sudden pulse of cum! From each new person, that first moment was always a surprise, no matter how sure I'd felt that I was ready.

Onscreen, the man who was about to ejaculate into the bound woman's mouth was nearly there. His neck veins bulged. His masturbation sped to a tremendous pace. And my husband, behind me, had also increased his pace. When we'd first begun watching this scene, my husband and I were making love so gently, but now my husband was determinedly fucking me. With every thrust, his hips slapped against my backside. His cock felt so big, so hard and deep inside me. He was clearly so excited by what we were watching, and so excited to have me watching with him. My husband likes to have me see the things he likes. To make me fantasize about his fantasies.

And then, with a gargled groan and a little spasm of his legs, the man onscreen tipped over the edge. Good lord, was he ever coming! Something about this scenario - perhaps having that woman tied up and willing, her warm eyes glittering as she submitted to his desires; perhaps the fact that they were being filmed, and the man knew that untold strangers would later watch him do this; perhaps the chance to be part of a group who were all sharing the same woman - must have been so hot for him, too, given how hard he came.

The woman had seemed prepared - eager and ready for him - but I still saw her flinch reflexively when the man first began to come. The man's body had jerked, sending his first spurt of semen flying high: it streaked across the woman's forehead and into her hair. But then the man steadied his aim and continued ejaculating directly toward her open mouth.

And the man standing behind her was still holding her head in place. Presenting her beautiful face to his companion. Not letting her shrink away.

The woman did sputter some, a bit of cum spilling from her lips, but she soon composed herself (insofar as any of us can be composed while receiving a mouthful of cum). She still seemed happy, sporting a sly smile. I watched as a faint smear of cum slid down her chin and along the contour of her neck.

Then the first man stepped back and another moved in to take his place.

This woman was going to be covered by the time all of them were all done!

But before the next contender could come - whether on her face or into her open, eager mouth - I felt my husband shudder. He'd thrust into me so hard, so deep. I felt his cock begin to throb between my legs, filling me with a sudden burst of warmth. And, god, the noises my husband was making! That throaty growl as he let his orgasm overtake him.

Unexpectedly, I cried out, too. We're not usually a simultaneous orgasm sort of couple, but as he gripped me tightly, clutching my body to his while he filled me up, the immensity of the experience sent me careening over the edge.

My whole body shook while my husband held me in his strong arms. My own voice was almost unrecognizable to me as I let out a low "ohhhhhh." And, my god, my husband was coming in me a lot. By the time he finished pulsing, I'd be so fucking full.

My crashing orgasm made it essentially impossible to keep watching the screen. All I could do was come, awash in a cavalcade of half-formed fantasies.

I wondered: was my husband thinking about doing this with the woman onscreen?

Was he thinking about coming on her face, like all those other men?

Was he thinking about fucking her right here on our bed, where he and I were laying?

That would be so hot. God, I love watching my husband fuck. I'd love to watch him slam into this woman from behind, or mount her after she'd lain back and spread her legs for him. And then, after he'd given her an awesome time or two, I'd love to cradle her head in my arms for a close-up view as my husband jerked off onto her face. I'd love to see him spatter her with cum. I'd love to lean in and kiss her, then. To taste his semen on her lips. To lick a stray strand from her chin. To feel her whole body quiver with ticklish giggles while I cleaned her with my tongue. To know that my husband would be going wild when I kissed her again, letting him watch me pass his cum to her.

Or, perhaps, I wondered: was my husband thinking about me being in the place of that woman onscreen?

Was he imagining how it would feel to see a deft rigger tie ropes around my body?

To watch this whole group of strangers come all over my face?

When our local kink community hosts events like these, my husband can often get himself off more quickly than other men. Like, with that woman who'd dressed up as a secretary? She wasn't that bedraggled yet when my husband came across her glossy lips.

But when I did those scenes, both times, my husband came near the end. He'd said it was so hot to keep watching. To see my deepening flush. My clear excitement. To see me use my hands (and occasionally my mouth) to help particularly lucky guests.

To see all that semen accumulate on my body.

He said it was so hot to watch me squirm. Occasionally clutching my own breast (and making my hand a mess). Occasionally spreading or squeezing shut my legs. Clearly awash in so much heat deep down at my core.

My husband loved knowing that this person, upon whom everyone in the room was so erotically fixated... whom everyone in the room desired... was his. That he is the one I love.

When I was the person whom everyone was ejaculating on, my husband wanted to keep going, teetering at that edge, masturbating until the end. Staying incredibly aroused, getting to watch it all.

But now, he was coming. So was I.

And as my orgasm rolled over me, I was beset by one more sultry half-formed fantasy.

I found myself wondering: what would it be like to have my husband making love to me - nay, to have him fucking me - even while a crowd of people came on me?

To have his big cock spreading me, combined with that raunchy, deviant thrill?

The thought left me whimpering.

My orgasm was a doozy!

Which meant a fair while passed before I even managed to look up at the screen again.

By the time I did, the woman was a delightful mess. Her eyes were closed. Her face was shiny. A bubbly trail charted a course over her lower lip and down her chin. Smears of semen dappled her breasts and upper thighs; other slick paths curved down her belly to gather in thick white patches at the top of her tidy pubic hair. The vibrator lay on the floor, clearly cast aside after she'd had too much. With her hands tied, she couldn't so much as wipe her face

The woman's eyes were closed, but also, she was beaming. Such a big, broad smile.

Which I could well understand!