Carleton masqueraded as the Big Bad Wolf and his wife Mary, Little Red Riding Hood, but the costume pairing was the only thing they had come to being a couple for the last two months. No matter how hard Carleton huffed and puffed, he could not get inside Mary’s pants.
And damned if she didn’t look hot, playing hostess to their friends, parading around in that skimpy outfit—in fishnet stockings and high heels yet.
Mary lost 45 pounds the last two months, becoming thin and fit the first time since she had the eldest of three children ten years before. She had never lost any weight until now, and Carleton had fantasized fucking a skinny woman ever since, especially his wife.
Every time he tried to approach Mary for sex the past two months, she said she was too exhausted from working her job, exercising at the gym and from starving herself. In truth, Carleton suspected she was banging her personal trainer, whom she had invited to the party, the bohunk in the caveman furs with a toy club and life-sized plastic doll, one arm draped around the doll, the other around Mary’s shoulders. Her chestnut hair cascaded halfway down her back, the longest it had been since Carleton met her. To him, her emerald green eyes glistened “fuck me.”
Mary rose from the living room couch and headed for the kitchen, Carleton presumed to flirt with another single guy she had met at the club. This hunk was wearing a trench coat and was flashing a robber cock. From a portable rattan wet bar in the corner of the room, Carleton mixed himself a Jack Daniels and Coke and then headed for the entertainment room, where mostly married couples were hanging out.
Carleton stood there observing the harmony of their body language. The happiest couples mirrored one another, their gesticulations in perfect sync. He was stirring his drink mechanically when Minerva, one of Mary’s closest friends, sidled over to him. She was wearing a black burqa. The head covering was solid back obscuring her face except her teasing blue eyes; below neckline the burka segued into semi-transparent material, allowing the viewer to feast on a large pair of phony boobs, which Carleton suspected were close in dimension to the real pair. Despite her face being covered, Carleton pictured in his head her silky blond hair and full pouty lips.
“Mary is being quite contrary,” Minerva said.
“I blame myself,” Carleton replied. “I could have paid her a lot more attention.”
“She’s getting plenty of it now,” Minerva said. “Feeling guilty?”
“No, disappointed mostly. It had always been a fantasy of mine to do it with my wife thin and trim. I had another about her shaving down below. My fantasies are just what they are—fantasies.”
“I shave my pussy.”
“That’s just how I fantasize about you.”
“You fantasize fucking your wife’s best friend?”
“When Mary was at her heaviest and we were having sex, I fantasized I was screwing you. Again, just a fantasy.”
Minerva brushed the back of her hand along the inside of his thigh. “Why fanaticize when you can have the real thing?”
“Really?”
“Yes, wait for me in the billiard room of your garage. I’ll come out when I feel it’s safe.”
“What about Mary?”
“I’ll check up on her. But the last I saw her she appeared ready to be double-dicked by the flasher.
While Carleton waited in the billiard room, he was so excited he couldn’t make the simplest of shots. Finally, the door swung open. Inside stepped Minerva, and she gracefully bent over the pool table and swept balls away with one arm.
Carleton hiked up her burqa, exposing Minerva’s beautiful round ass. He stepped back and examined her the way an artist would a painting in progress. That bald pussy of hers was a masterpiece. He thought his cock was going to bore through his leotards and wolf shorts.
In a few moments he was fucking his wife’s best friend, her pussy so wet she must have been starved for hard cock. And he could wrap his arms around her hips and then some, drilling deeper.
A shadow swept over the back of Minerva. Carleton twisted around. Little Red Riding Hood had invaded the House of Big Bad Wolf.
But under that scarlet hood was the fuck-me-too grin of Minerva.
The woman wearing the burqa undid her veil. “Heaven rewards those who have patience,” Mary said. She then resumed her doggy style position, as did Minerva, beside her, hip-to-hip, naked, her body exactly how Carleton had fantasized it.
He gawked at the two masterpieces for a moment while pretending to chalk the end of his dick and then said, “This gives a whole new meaning to ‘rack them up.’” Then he broke.
____________________
Petras is a graduate of West Liberty University and a lifelong resident of Toronto, Ohio. He has had more than 50 stories published in a variety of genres, including erotica, sci-fi, horror, satire/humor and literary. Robert can be found here: http://bpetras.blogspot.com/.
One Comment
Good, above-average story set-up for this genre – an actual storyline, something that transcends the ‘two-line introduction/commence to stock fucking’ school of wank writing. Four stars for actually striving towards something resembling a storyline, with (gasp!) some characterization – more than most wank writers go for.