Türk Yetişkin Hikayeler Forumu

Geri Git   Türk Yetişkin Hikayeler Forumu Adult Hikayelerimiz Evli Hikayeleri

Cevapla
 
LinkBack Seçenekler Arama Stil
DurumOffline
w0odwizard - ait Kullanıcı Resmi (Avatar)
Uyarı:
Profil detaylarını görmek için üye girişi yapmalısınız

Üyeliğiniz bulunmuyorsa Kayıt ol linkine tıklayarak kayıt olabilirsiniz.

Hafida the Moroccan (part two)

 
Post #1


The story so far....My drunken new wife and I are in the hotel lift with a waiter who is feeling her pussy.

'Are you alright my dear?' I asked innocently. 'I think the wine is a little more than she expected...' This to the waiter who was now slowly massaging Hafida's pussy through the thin material!
'Yes Sir, It often happens when someone is not used to it.' Did I detect a little
sarcasm or accusation in his tone?
'It's just as well you were here to help me with her. I couldn't have managed her by myself.' I said, moving my right hand down to her belly, just inches from the waiter's. He quickly shifted his hold, leaving Hafida's pussy free for me to stroke.

The bell boy was aghast! The waiter eyed me with suspicion. I grinned at him. He did not, however, let go of her right breast. Hafida kept her eyes closed. If she was aware of what was happening, she showed no sign of it. I could hear her breathing. Quick and shallow. I ran my index finger up along her pussy, pausing at the top to give her clitoris a little rub. She trembled ever so slightly.

The waiter and I both keyed up by the situation and aware of every tiny sound or motion, exchanged glances. Again I grinned at him. I moved my right hand, once again taking her arm. He immediately put his hand on her pussy, his fingers gently massaging her through the gown. The lift jerked into life. Someone higher up had pressed the call button.

We completed the journey to our floor, and when the lift doors opened, the waiter and I manhandled the now fairly limp Hafida down the corridor to our room. I noticed that the waiter took every opportunity to get a quick feel of her whenever he could. I just let him get on with it.

'Could you get the key out of my pocket?, I asked the bellboy. He hesitated but did as I asked. As he felt for the key, his eyes took in the bulge in my trousers that matched his own.

We almost dragged poor Hafida through the sitting room and into the bedroom. The waiter passed Hafida's left arm to the bell boy, and to my surprise, took her feet. We lifted her onto the bed, the waiter staring down Hafida's jalaba between her legs. One of her sandals fell off. We all looked at it as it hit the floor. The atmosphere in the room was electric. The waiter knew that there was a sexually oriented opportunity for him, but it was obvious he could not see how to exploit it.

It was now or never. If I did or said nothing, they would have to leave. Did I want to push the situation to its (almost) obvious conclusion? Inspiration hit me. I fumbled in my pockets as though looking for a tip for them. I ignored the loose change that both the bellboy and myself knew lay in the bottom of my pocket.
'Just a minute, I must find some money...to reward you for your help....' and with that I hurried into the sitting room, leaving them alone in the bedroom with my prostrate wife.

I stopped outside the door and peeped back into the room through the gap between the door and the door post. The waiter had wasted no time. He had his hand up Hafida's dress, and it looked as though he was finger fucking her. The bellboy, his right hand in his pocket, was furiously masturbating as he watched his friend take advantage of drunken Hafida.

As I watched, the waiter lifted up her jalaba to show his young colleague Hafida's depilated pussy. He had moved the crotch of her thong to one side and was sliding his middle finger in and out of her. It was shiny with her
juices. Hafida moved slightly, her eyes remaining closed. Was it my imagination, or were her legs were spread just a little wider? Her head rolled to one side and she opened her eyes. With a moan she tried to sit up, her right hand feebly trying to push the waiters hand away. He raised a finger to his lips, and 'shushed' her. She stared at him. Her eyes travelled from him to the bellboy, then down to her dishevelled clothing.

She whispered something to the waiter, I did not understand the Arabic, but
her tone was urgent. It didn't need a genius to work out she was telling him to stop. No scream of indignation, no appeal for help, just a demand that they not be caught.

'Won't be a minute....' I called out to them. '....can't find my wallet. Shall I call room service for some coffee? The waiter looked around towards the door. A half smile on his face told me all I needed to know. I think he had realised I had left them alone intentionally.
'Thank you Sir, that would be very nice.' he replied, unzipping his pants and freeing his wedding tackle. I couldn't see it, but Hafida could. She made a small squeaking sound and her eyes opened wide. Very wide.

The waiter moved onto the bed beside her. He took her hand and placed it on his cock. She took hold of it and he lay down beside her, turning on his side so she could masturbate him.
'OK....' I thought '....if you don't mind, then I don't either!' As he turned, his cock came into my view. Now, the only erect penis Hafida had ever seen until now was mine; five inches long and about an inch and a quarter wide, with a slightly thicker head to it. Nicely proportioned, I've always thought, if not so big.

The waiter, however, had been cast in a different mould. His was huge. Nine inches long at least, I would guess, and as thick as a baby's arm. His knob end was the size of a duck egg, and his balls were the size of a Jaffa orange. No wonder she had stared wide eyed at it. This guy was equipped like a porn star.

Surprised as she obviously was by this turn of events, Hafida's true colours began to show through. She stroked the fleshy monster, with no (apparent) thought of fidelity to her new husband, her eyes wide and sparkling. Her face wore an expression of nervous excitement, though not, as yet, devoid of anxiety. She was still worried about being caught.
'Shall I tell them to bring the coffee in....what shall we say....about an hour?' I had lowered my voice to a more, shall we say, conspiratorial level! The waiter grinned at the bellboy.
'That would be very convenient Sir, thank you very much!' His next words were to Hafida. Not speaking Arabic, I could not understand him, but she looked over to the doorway, disbelief on her face.
'Shall I bring a towel in? Or maybe you prefer tissues?' I called again. The delight in the waiters voice when he replied, was all too obvious to us all!
'Whatever you prefer Sir, if you are joining us, that is....'
'Of course, I wouldn't want to miss an orgy!' I walked into the room, grinned at Hafida, dropped my trousers and sat on the end of the bed. Hafida just stared at me open mouthed.

Too intoxicated to respond quickly to the situation, she just sat there holding the waiters huge cock in her right hand. Her jalaba was hiked up around her waist, her knickers, (one of the thongs bought this morning) were pulled down onto her thighs, and the waiter had his right hand between her legs, his middle finger in her pussy.
'Well, well Hafida, looks like you've got a couple of new friends. Hope you're feeling horny!' She went bright red, mumbling incoherently. 'I think the jalaba should go, don't you?' I asked the waiter. He spoke to her. She let go of his cock and lifted her arms above her head, the look of disbelief still etched into her face!
'You let them do this?' she asked me, when her jalaba cleared her face.
'No dear, you let them. Looks like you had it all in hand, so to speak!' Slowly her drink befuddled mind worked out that I had seen her wanking the waiter and that she had not objected to him putting his dick in her hand, or to him fingering her pussy.

Sitting there without her jalaba, she looked a picture. Her dusky skin in sharp
contrast to the brilliant whiteness of her lacy bra and her thong. Her long black hair hung down her back, providing a dark backdrop to her blushing face.

The waiter tugged at her panties, sliding them down her legs and over her feet. With a grin he tossed them to the bellboy, increasing the boys acute embarrassment, and his erection.
'Your turn son....I think you should have her bra as well as her pants....come on, join the party.' I said to him. Hafida grunted something in indignation, but nevertheless, the boy was at her side in a flash, his hands quickly pulling the flimsy straps from her shoulders. His breathing fast, his face slightly flushed and his hands trembling.

Hafida's breasts, (34b) small but firm and solid, popped into sight. No sagging matron this! A week ago she had been a virgin, her firm young body was in peak condition. Her brown nipples were hard and pert. Despite the fact that she was sitting on the bed, her belly still looked flat and hard. Only a dead man would fail to get excited! And the three males in the room were all very much alive.

The bellboy, kneeling beside Hafida, leaned over her shoulder and unclipped the bra. It fell into her lap, the straps still around her arms. He slipped it off them and with a sheepish grin, handed it to me.
'Put it with her knickers!' I told him. It was his ears turn to go red. Her knickers were in his pocket, and the bra joined them in a trice. Hafida protested loudly, but the waiter snapped a word at her, and she shut up immediately. This guy was well in control of things.

I stripped off my shirt, and the waiter, taking his cue from me, also shed his clothes. Hafida couldn't take her eyes off him. It was obvious to her now, that she was going to be fucked by at least one of us, if not all of us, whilst the others watched. The prospect of having to accommodate the waiter's massive cock was obviously upper most in her thoughts.

She watched his shirt come off, exposing a brown, well-muscled body that had a light covering of black hair. This guy was no stranger to the gym. Muscles rippled as he bent to strip off his pants. When he stood up, he was a
picture of athleticism. His penis stood proudly at forty five degrees to his belly. Long and thick, it seemed to be looking directly into Hafida's staring eyes. His big hairy balls hung bull like between his legs, large and round. The promise of a sticky flood emanated from them. The bellboy was still fully clothed, standing next to the bed, seemingly in a trance. I motioned to him to undress. In a flash he was naked. His cock, much to my relief, did not put me to shame. Thankfully it was about the same as mine, maybe even a little thinner.

The waiter spoke again, and the bellboy knelt on the bed again, next to my young wife. She took his cock in her right hand and began to work it up and down the boy's shaft. He moaned in appreciation of the attention. The waiter gently pushed Hafida backwards, and began to suckle on her tits. Now this, I had discovered very early on our wedding night, was Hafida's weak spot, as it were. Suck on her tits and her pussy immediately flooded. She was putty in my hands after that. His mouth on her nipple and his finger deftly working her pussy, the waiter had reduced Hafida to a sexually charged bag of nerves. It was obvious she was ready for sex, (pussy juice was trickling down her thigh) but it was equally obvious she was very apprehensive
about the situation in general.
'Too bad', I thought. 'You'll just have to take what comes, won't you my pretty little shyster!'

The waiter turned to me.
'You want....' he left the question hanging in mid-air.
'No! No! I want to see that big beauty in action!' I laughed! 'You first!'
Hafida looked positively panic stricken as he moved his left knee between her thighs, pushing them apart so he could kneel between them. He hooked her legs over his elbows and lifted them high, putting his hands next to her shoulders. Hafida said one of the few words of Arabic I understand.
'Astafirullah!' (God forgive me....) and closed her eyes.

The waiter leaned forward a little, bringing the head of his big cock into contact with Hafida's anus. I winced at the thought of him trying to get that monster in her bum. However, he just adjusted his position slightly and it nestled between her labia. It hung there for a second like the sword of Damocles. Here was Hafida's come-uppance for her deception of me.

....to be continued....
13 Ekim 2022, at 02:22
Alıntı
Cevapla

Etiketler
cheating wife, cuckold, group sex, voyeur husband

Seçenekler Arama
Stil



Powered by vBulletin Solutions, Inc.
keçiören escort | tuzla escort seks hikayeleri gaziantep escort seks filmi izle izmir escort izmir escort izmir escort istanbul travesti keçiören escort çankaya escort kızılay escort eryaman escort Ankara escort bayan Escort ankara Escort ankara Escort eryaman Keçiören escort Escort ankara Sincan escort bayan Çankaya escort bayan Beşiktaş Escort Beylikdüzü Escort Beyoğlu Escort Büyükçekmece Escort Esenyurt Escort Etiler Escort Fatih Escort Halkali Escort Küçükçekmece Escort Mecidiyeköy Escort Anadolu Yakası Escort Kartal escort Kurtköy escort Maltepe escort Pendik escort Kartal escort kızılay escort esat escort Escort bayan Escort bayan bahisu.com girisbahis.com Escort escort escort escort travestileri travestileri altyazılı porno şişli escort mecidiyeköy escort beşiktaş escort escort istanbul ataköy escort bursa escort bursa escort bursa escort bursa escort bursa escort alt yazılı porno hack forum darkhack.org Casibom Casibom Giriş Casibom Casibom Yeni Giriş Onwin