"If you had any ideas about getting into my knickers, you're out of luck, but I'll give you a wank if you like."

He wasn't the first to try his luck, but out of the available candidates, he was my first choice.  I spend a lot of time away from home, staying in perfectly good, but boringly characterless hotels, this was one of them.  I suppose a woman alone is fair game, and I like to play the game if I'm very bored.  Nobody ever gets to fuck me, but if I'm in the mood, some get what I had just offered.

"Is that your final offer?"

He said.  I liked that, I'd never heard it before.  I nodded.  He sighed.

"Well if it's a choice between your hand or mine, I choose yours."

He stood.  I said;

"Not in your room though, or mine.  Where's your car?"

"In the car park."

"I'll meet you outside in five minutes."

"Really?  In the car?  That'll be a blast from the past."

"It's that or the disabled loo."

He chose car.  He stood to leave, I said;

"One condition, when we're finished, you don't go back to bar."

He nodded.  It was a fine evening and still quite light.  His car was parked close to the hotel, at my request he moved it to a less public space then joined me in the back seat.  I undid his belt and flys and he lifted himself from the seat for me to pull both trousers and pants down.  He had a semi, at my touch it became full.  It was a good size, not big, but a decent handfull.  I gave it a few exploratory strokes,  he murmured his appreciation.

"Don't I even get a handful of tit?"

He said.

"No," I replied.  "No touching. You can have a flash though."

My neckline was quite low, scooped.  My tits were on display anyway, but my nipples were of course, just below see level.  I scooped out the tit nearest to him, then it's twin.  My dress pushed them up and together, my nipples were erect.  He breathed out loudly.

"Nice."

He said.  I reminded him that he could look but not touch, then went back to the job in hand.  It didn't take long.  In fact I was a little disapointed, it was over too quickly.  But his lack of self-control was compensated by the volume of his ejaculation.  He certainly wasn't a shooter  he was a gusher.  Spunk welled from his tip like lava from a volcano, thick creamy lava which ran down his shaft and over my fingers.

He handed me his hankercheif to wipe my fingers, then used it to clean himself.  We adjusted our clothing and walked back to the hotel where we said goodnight.  I went to my room, washed my hands and waited about half an hour before returning to the bar, carefully checking that he had honoured his promise not to go back there himself.  There was a reason for me extracting that promise.  I wanted more.

I enjoy sex, but my job ensures that I don't get enough.  My experience suggests that people in similar situations, both men and women, play away from home.  I don't.  Since marriage, I have been 100% faithful to my husband.  Except for hand service, which my husband knows about.  I could easily have allowed the man who I had just tossed off, to fuck me.  I might have enjoyed it.  But it might have been a disaster, and I am allergic to condoms.  Either that or whatever it is they are lubricated with.  Before I was married, I used to carry non-allergy ones, but I adore a man's happy ending, condoms of any kind cheat me of that, wanking men off doesn't.

The bar was busier than previously, ten or so men and one woman, younger than me and prettier.  I sat at a table away from the bar, a waiter materialised and brought my drink.  I watched as the bees approached the nectar.  She was approached by the men, one by one.  She politely blew them all away.  Some of them had already tried me, with same result, but some were newcomers.  I selected one of them and waited.  He was the first to try his luck with me and seemed surprised when without preamble, I made him the same offer as the previous lucky winner.  He accepted without hesitation, but chose the loo for his treat.

I left first and entered the accessible loo.  There was a choice of two, left hand transfer or right hand transfer.  I'm right handed.  I waited for his coded knock.  I did him with us both standing, me with my left arm round his waist, him with his right arm around my shoulders.  This time, my tits remained out of sight.

His cock was long and thin.  His pants were round his ankles and his erection protruded between the flaps of his shirt.  Do men realise how ridiculous they look in this position?  Do they care or is everthing focussed on their centre of pleasure?  The thin wand that was now in my hand.  He took longer than number one, and he was a shooter, his powerful spurts hit the floor to ceiling mirror that we were facing and slowly trickled down it.

He thanked me and left.  I wiped the mirror as well as I could, washed my hands and went to my room.  I stripped naked and looked at myself in the mirror, thinking;

"Yes, you've still got it girl."

Two in an evening was unusual, but my current record was four.  Perhaps it was time to set a new record?  I slipped between the cool, fresh sheets naked and called Tom, my husband.

I get my own pleasure from mastubation.  My orgasms I mean, I get pleasure from wanking people off, but orgasms from wanking myself off.  When I'm away from home anyway.  Tonight, I would give myself several orgasms before sleeping, the first would be mutual, with Tom.  A cyber wank.  I put my 'phone on speaker.  Tom answered.  After the usual greetings and small talk, he said;

"Where are you?"

"In bed. You?"

"Same. What are you wearing?"

"Wedding ring."

"Are you wet?"

"Very.  Are you hard?"

"As a nail."

"Are you holding it?"

"Very gently, it's on a hair trigger, you were later tonight."

"Yes, I did two tonight."

"Good ones?"

"Not bad."

"I couldn't wait, I've already given myself one."

"Ready for seconds?"

"Always.  Put the 'phone near it, let me hear it squelch."

I did as he asked, he gave me instructions;

"Spread yourself.  Push your fingers in, let me hear it."

I could see him in my mind, his hand would be moving up and down over his shaft, slowly picking up speed.  He would try to time it so that he came when I did, I am a noisy comer.  I came, he came.  When I could speak, I said;

"Good one?"

"Headboard bullseye," he said.  "When are you coming home?"

"Tomorrow, in time for dinner, I'll let you know."

"Next one's yours then, It will be primed and ready for you.  I'm going to fuck you as soon as the front door closes.  Goodnight.  Love you."

"Love you too, goodnight."

He wouldn't of course, fuck me in the hall.  Although we had, we had fucked in every room, and the garage, and the garden.  But we had a routine for my return, and instant relief was not part of it.  He would have dinner ready, something in the oven, nothing time sensitive.  The table would be set, the wine would be breathing.  I would shower and wear something easily removable for after dinner.  After dinner, well that was less predictable, depending on how horny we were.  It might be on the sofa, but we both preferred our bed.  And it would be spectacular.

Tom is a skilled and caring lover, he is also the only man I have ever known who can make me come just by fucking, but a session such as the one I could expect on my return, would involve numerous orgasms, from his fingers, tongue and his lovely cock, only then would I receive the final tribute, his delicious spunk.

Where I received it would either be my choice or our choice, sometimes his.  If he had a last minute wish to laquer my tits with it, that was fine with me, I like it wherever it's splashed.  I'm not sure what I would choose if I was forced to have it always in the same place, I like to see it shoot, that's why I like to wank men off, but just the thought of Tom's precious gift flooding my cunt or my arse, is thrilling, and I can't see it shoot into either.

Nor can I see it if he chooses to coat my back and my bum with it, but I can certainly feel it.  I also like him to come in my mouth, perhaps that would be my first choice, satisfying in both taste and feel.  And the sound of his grunts as he fills my mouth with his essence.

True to form, when I got home the next day, dinner was waiting.  But we skipped dessert.  For some reason, Tom was as horny as a ram.  Our sex can be loving and gentle, passionate, or in this case, frantic.  And on the sofa.  I fished out his rigid cock and went to suck it, he stopped me, told me to turn round and fucked me brutally from behind.  I didn't come, it was too quick  but I loved it, loved the passion, loved his grunts as his spunk pumped into me, loved knowing that there was more to come.

We staggered upstairs, Tom was already hard again.  We stripped each other naked.  In bed at last, things slowed down, there was much kissing and fondling.

"What brought that on?"

I asked softly.  I had only been away three days.

"The thought of you wanking strangers."

"Better than porn?"

"Debateable.  Porn is a feast for the ears and eyes, when you describe your exploits, I can only imagine what it was like."

"Would you like to watch?"

"I would pay to."

There was a thought.

"Sit on my face, I want to lick your cunt."

Yes, he had just filled it with his spunk  but that is part of it, I like to suck his cock clean after he has fucked me with it, tasting my own as well as his juice.  He likes to return the favour.  He scoured me, leaving nothing unlicked or unsucked, cunt, clit, arsehole, the full connoisseurs menu.  I came repeatedly, the thought of him watching as I wanked a strangers cock fueling my pleasure.

Eventually I lifted myself off, scrambled down and impaled myself on his prong.  Now his hands roamed my body as he pumped steadily into me.  In return, I leaned forward to kiss him and to offer my tits to his hungry mouth.  I knew how it would end, and I love it.  Using the juice from my cunt, he pushed two fingers into my arse, feeling his cock through the thin separating membrane.  This triggered the most powerfull orgasm of the set, Tom spat his seconds into me as I came.

I slept well.  I had the next day off, Tom works from home anyway.  I pondered the problem of how he could watch secretly in a car/carpark/toilet.  I had used then all.  Surely nobody would want an audience?  Unless…  Suppose that I could arrange a sort of gang wank, a wankathon.  I could have men queuing to be serviced, the man being wanked would be being watched by those waiting their turn, how could they object?  Tom could pretend to be waiting for his, possible even getting it.

Hang on, how many would fit into a disabled loo?  Not enough.  A car park then, I could sit in the car and service them in turn.  Little more than dogging really.  Perhaps not.  But what if we paid for two rooms, one for wanking and one to sleep in?  I wouldn't want to sleep in a room stinking of stale spunk.  Unless it was Tom's, I do that all the time.  But my company made hotel bookings for me, they wouldn't pay for two.  I ran it by Tom.  He suggested paying for two rooms ourselves, not on one of my business trips,but in our own time.

We each booked a room at a place in the next town.  A weekday so that the residents would mostly be businessmen.  We made sure that we did not appear to be a couple.  Discovering that the rooms were not only next door to each other, but had interconnecting doors was a bonus.  At about eight o'clock, Tom went down to the bar, I followed ten minutes later.  I was the only woman.  All eyes followed me as I entered.

I sat at a table away from  the bar and ordered a drink.  When it arrived, I asked who the other drinkers were.  Several of them were in a group, attending a conference.  It was pretty obvious that I was the subject of their conversation.  Eventually, I was approached not by one of the group, but a man on his own.  I made him the usual offer, but this time, instead of a rendezvous in the car park, told him to come to my room at dead on nine.  To anybody watching, it appeared that he had been turned down.  Another single tried.  He got the same offer, my room at precisely five past nine.  They were in for a surprise.

At last one of the group approached.  I accepted his offer of a drink and he sat down with a covert smug glance at his mates.

"How many in your group?"

I asked.  He seemed surprised, but answered;

"Eight."

He was even more surprised at my offer.

"I'll take on all of you,"  I said.  "But all you'll get is a wank, and there are conditions."

I told him how it would be.  He went back to his group and told them about my offer.  Eventually, he returned and said that one had said no, but the others had been up for it.  I told him to come to my room at ten past nine, no earlier.  Seven.  Plus the other two.  Plus Tom, who had been quietly observing from his table.  I returned to my room shaking with anticipation.

On the dot of nine, there was a tap on the door.  The look on his face when he entered and found Tom already there was amazing.  I told him that he would not be alone, take it or leave it.  He stayed.  Number two arrived, he also stayed.  Then the group.  I made my little speech.  Nervously at first, but my job involves making presentations.  I had never addressed a group like this though;

"Gentlemen, you have been promised only hand relief, but with an audience.  You are allowed to touch my tits, but nothing else.  You can come on me if you wish, but not on my face.  To my eyes, a man with his cock sticking from his flat, is the most ridiculous sight in the world, so must all get naked.  As you are mostly English, you can leave your socks on.  As will I."

I undid my robe and tossed it aside.  I was wearing only knickers and holdups.  And shoes of course.  There was a bit of a buzz from my audience.

"You can come as many times as you can," I continued.  "Until my wrists ache.  That's the deal, feel free to leave if you don't like it."

There was an eerie silence.  Then the man who had been the first to approach me, a fit looking black American, laughed and said;

"Fucking A, babe, count me in."

He started to strip.  Nobody left, they started to strip.  I sat down on the end of the bed and patted the space beside me.  My Yank, his circumcised cock already erect, accepted the invitation.  He made no attempt to touch me, he lay back on the bed with his hands behind his head and said;

"Go for it girl."

Contrary to popular belief, his cock was not massive.  But neither was it small.  He groaned slightly as I encircled it with my fingers.  I asked if he wanted it dry or lubed, he said lubed.  It pulsed in my hands as I smoothed baby oil onto it.  The rest of the group had moved in to watch, all of them were holding their cocks, gently priming them.  I enjoyed feel of my hand sliding over the man's shaft, so did he.  As the lube started to dry, his skin moved with my hand, he groaned slightly.

I accelerated my strokes from slow to medium, I could feel his tension, I can usually tell when a man is about to come, I went up to full speed, he became more vocal.  Even if I'm expecting it, it's often a surprise when a man pops.  And always impressive.  The stuff must accelerate faster than a formula one car.  The Yank whose cock I was yanking, cried out as his first spurt shot, subsequent spurts coated his reclining body, belly, chest, some even went over his shoulder.  It looked very white against his dark skin.

But even more of a surprise, was a sudden volley of warm cum against the side of my right tit.  My Yank was on my left side and I was reaching over to use my right hand on him.  I released him and turned towards this new barrage, only to receive subsequent spurts on both tits.  Unnoticed by me, someone had been standing very close, wanking himself.  In fact the group had all been wanking themselves, waiting their turn for me to finish them off, this one either couldn't wait or wouldn't wait.  That was fine with me, it was still a tribute, but I would have liked to see it happen.  He was berated my one or two of his mates, but he shrugged and walked away.

I reached for a tissue to wipe off his spunk, but the man in front of me stopped me, saying;

"Leave it there sweetheart, it looks good on you and mine's about to join it."

He stepped forward between my parted knees for me to reach and handed his baton to me for finishing.  As I wanked it  he reached forwards and massaged the other man's spunk into my tits.  He came himself soon after and I directed his offering onto my tits, he massaged that in too, saying;

"I'm told that it's good for the skin, full of protein."

This time, somebody handed me the wetwipes to clean myself up.  Tom took advantage of the break to push a glass of cool white wine into my hand.  He winked, he was enjoying this, his cock was as hard as I've ever seen it.

One by one, I processed them all except Tom and the man who couldn't wait, he had dressed and left.  Some of the others also left after they had been done, others stayed to watch.  The Yank came back for seconds, none of the others did.  When it was over, I watched as they dressed and left, Tom among them.  As we had suspected, nobody had noticed that Tom had not come, all of them being only interested in their own pleasure.  Tom was saving it for later.  And not to be wanked, besides, my wrists ached.

When they had gone, I went through the interconnecting door to where my husband was waiting for me.  I stripped of the ruined knickers and holdups and threw them in the bin, then I took a long shower.  Tom helped.  In bed at last, I kissed him and asked if he had enjoy it.

"I did," he said.  "Very much, but did you?"

"Yes," I replied.  "But I've got wankers cramp in both wrists."

I nodded to his towering erection and said;

"What would you like me to do with that?  Anything other than wank it."

He grinned and said;

"You must be as ready for an orgasm as I am, shall we do that first and see what it leads to?"

I thought he would never ask.  I nodded.  He kissed me on the mouth, then on each tit, my belly and then my shaven mound.  I was as wet as he was hard. He pushed the middle finger of his right hand inside my cunt, then transferred it to my arse, using my juice as lubricant.  Then he pushed the thumb of the same hand into my cunt.  He gently brought finger and thumb together and rubbed them against each other, separated by the thin dividing wall.  I squirmed with pleasure.  He used the fingers of his other hand to spread my very wet cunt lips and sucked the stiff, oily bead of my clit between his lips.

That's all it took to make me come, screaming.  I was still in the throes of orgasm as he pushed his cock into me, fucking me to a second orgasm.  As my orgasming cunt clamped tightly around the thick shaft of his cock, he released a stream of his spunk into me.  We lay entwined, I could feel his heart beating.  I held my thighs together as tightly as I could, determined not to let his cum run from me.  I wanted it, I wanted to absorb it into my own body, for it to become e part of me.

"Thank you for allowing me to do that,"  I said.  "I enjoyed it, but not as much as you fucking me, thank you for that too."

"No need to thank me," he replied.  "I love you more than life itself, your pleasure is my pleasure, if you had wanted them all to fuck you bareback, I would have arranged it, I would have enjoyed every second."

"Wouldnt you be jealous?"

I asked.

"Not really, sex is not love, I would be jealous if you loved someone else, but I would love you whatever you did otherwise, I don't own you."