A voluptuous swinger Indian wife

You could hear the calming whispers of the air passing
by our windows, exhaling into our mouths, my wife’s in
particular. The October birds and plants were abound on
either sides of the road, and the ominous blue and
purple hue of the sunset was painted across the waking
starry night sky. The gentle tapping of jeweled earrings
against my wife’s ears as she rested her head against
the window now only opened half way. Her red velvet lips
reflecting highlights of white skylight, and her face
lit by the fading sun. You could just smell the pure
intoxicating aroma of plants, grass, leaves, trees,
passing through our windows in combination with strong,
high class, perfume of an exotic and gorgeous woman, as
we became a wisp sound in the distance.

The road seemed unnaturally clear and straight, leading
us in the direction of the new location of the Comic and
Anime convention. I, personally, had only indulged in
comics and anime when I was a kid in high school and
college. My wife, on the other hand, had savored the
nostalgia for a special weekend that came once every
year: the convention.

The Year: 20XX

The Place: Manhattan, NY, USA

My wife, a real woman of her own right, had tailored and
fitted her own Jean Grey costume as the Phoenix from X-
Men. Most men and women would inquire about her physique
and fitness upon first glance, but her true strength is
in her charm and charisma. She walks with dignity and
acquainted majesty along with seductive and almost
conciliated flirtatious magma. She is an older woman, I
will say she is under the age of 40, and always dresses
and carries herself with the weight of a true female;
confidence and dripping with carnal tastes.

She does not think of herself in regards to her age, she
acknowledges she is a woman and she has an understanding
that she can apply herself to get what she wants in
life. Being Indian by nature and tradition (right down
to the lingering accent) has made her an exotic fruit in
the states. Most call her “busty.” Unlike the
stereotype, she takes care of herself in every sense:
She uses expensive and professional creams and
moisturizers and the latest cosmetics and makeup.

She shaves in all the right areas, down and around. She
smells intoxicating on every smooth lightly tanned
surface on her body, and her figure, despite her
motorcycle accident last year, has been kept fit and
curvaceous. Her breasts, although larger than her
cosplay character’s, fit her figure nicely, though she
has at times needed to use a back and waist strap for
support while at home. Many times while in the city of
New York we’ve encountered barrages of wandering hands,
some more forward than others, approach and wander the
curves of her bottom.

I have to admit even I find her irresistible at times
when I see her unbuttoning her work dress or when she
unzips her outfits. There is a subtlety to her
disposition; the way she walks, stands, holds and
touches things all relay back to me as erotic. She knows
how much of a woman she is and she knows that any man of
any age will try to get a chance to be with her. That’s
why she likes the more fun challenge of young “nerds.”

We are in the car, already late to the convention, but
for good reason. We had decided to check out the local
bars around in case we wanted to head over after the
con, and she, being the opportunist she is, found
sanctuary in the firm grip of the bouncer to an
exclusive club in the neighborhood on her firm ass.

She manipulated him easily into getting us on the VIP
list for the exclusive club the weekend, and as a thank
you gift she pressed her tight but voluptuously and
curvaceously plump body against his tight buff bouncer
body along with a long and seductive kiss that would
make a man’s heart, along with his pants, go hard. As
they pulled their lips apart from the wet pressure of
the kiss my wife exhaled in deep breaths.

Adding to her sly seductive look in her eyes as she
walked away from him she elegantly licked her bottom lip
with the tip of her tongue and swung her long black
glamorous hair back as she took my hand and I led us out
to the car. Before I unlocked the car I pulled out a
pack of cigarettes, lit one, and inhaled calmly and
patiently. The warm toxic smoke snaked down my throat
into my lungs and warmed my chest.

As I exhaled I could feel the dispersing heat of my
breath into the colder night air against my lips. I
couldn’t help but grin as I catered to myself in that
moment of post-pleasure. I turned and saw a look of
bereavement on my wife’s face with modest puppy dog
eyes. I handed her the cigarette and she began a similar
routine as I had. Though she does not actively smoke
cigarettes, if the occasion calls for it she will from
time to time politely ask for one to embrace a higher
level of a naturally pleasing moment.

You could see the reflection of the cigarette’s flame on
her lips as she limply held the fag with both lips. When
she was done she discretely slid the tip of her tongue
around the curvature of the back of the cigarette in her
mouth and then flicked it with her wrist onto the
ground. I unlocked the doors and we got back in the car.
In the car she changed into her costume, whereas before
she had been wearing a black and red elegant
dinner/dancing dress, slightly more high class than the
bar was accustomed to.

My wife began undressing herself at a relaxed pace. Her
physical movements and flashing glances let me know she
was hungry. For the record I, too, am very well kept. I
am clean and trimmed usually in the right places and I
do not, as most white men and women think, “smell like
curry” or smell of anything less than alpha male prowess
and expensive cologne. I may not have as smooth of skin
as my wife, but I do have, also contrary to the
stereotype, a thick and large meat hidden away in my
pants. My wife may fondle with other men, but she
worships my body, and especially my thick cock. If she
had an Achilles heel it would be my dick.

She has some fascination with it in that she can only
have it when I let her, but anyone else in the world
would let her have theirs in an instant. My wife begins
to take off her undershirt when she bites her lip and I
look back at the road with one hand on the wheel and the
other on her leg. I feel her hand, her elongated
fingernails painted green for the occasion, stretch out
and scratch against my pants on my leg moving closer to
the center of my lap. I glance at her from the corner of
my eye and see that coy and needy look on her face as
her eyes are bolted onto the bulge in my pants. Her hand
continues to wander.

You could hear the buzzing of night insects like
grasshoppers and dragon flies, and the same natural,
green, Eden-like scent pass through your face and hair
as the car continued on its route to the con. I realized
at some point my wife had undone my belt and zipper,
opening a way to the thick fun meat stick she wanted so
badly. Her anticipation was almost too much, as was
mine. I took her by the hair, holding her head with my
hand, and forced her head onto my lap. Our car is
spacious enough that she can lay on her side with her
chest and head mostly facing upwards in my lap and not
be uncomfortable.

She pulled my cock out of my pants with her tongue alone
and wrapped her tongue around the very tip. With her
body so close now I could smell the strong aroma of her
perfume and it was even more arousing. My wife, a light
skinned Indian woman mind you, was now giggling right
below me in my lap, smiling with a genuine look of
naughty playfulness, with my cock growing inside her
mouth. Her tongue writhed into my foreskin while still
inside her mouth and she sucked on my cock while she
licked at it from within the foreskin.

She put her hand into my pants and began holding and
playing with my sack while she continued to deep throat
my cock as I drove us to the Comic and Anime Convention.
I tried to pay attention to the road but I was too
overly excited to pass on looking her over. She was a
beautiful sight, being so engulfed in having my cock and
balls, as hairy as they were so close to her mouth and
body. Her breasts were so close to my cock, and
unfortunately I had not shaved my pubic region in a
while due to forgetfulness, that the hair around my cock
was being pressed between the back of her wrist and her
cleavage.

Her undershirt, basically a white tank top, was showing
her now erect nipples on her fantastic breasts. I held
her face down on my cock, feeling her wet and made up
lips and face meet my body’s skin, her nose and eyes
being pressed against my skin just under my bellybutton,
pulling her hair tight around her head and forcing her
to go down hard as my cock entered the entirety of her
throat.

One of her hands was pinching her nipple and sliding
back and forth across her cleavage and chest, even
twirling my pubic hair at times, the other explored my
balls, rolling her fingers around and between them,
feeling underneath them and between my balls and my leg,
exploring every part of my body in my pants out of pure
worship to my subjection. When I thought she had been
down there long enough I pulled her head back by her
hair and she spewed out my cock, without spilling a drop
of saliva or pre-cum, gasping greatly for air to breath.

I pinched one of her nipples to play with her now overly
sensitive body and she dully, almost in like a drunken
stupor, flicked my hand away after I had already pinched
her. She had drooled a bit on her chest, slippery drips
of pre-cum and saliva sliding in between her breasts. To
preserve the dryness of her clothing she wiped all the
white fluid into her skin as if it were a daily skin
regiment.

My wife is very good with her body and features, and it
is that mastery of beauty that allows her to do such
filthy things with me and still look dashing afterwards.
By the time we arrived at the convention she had cleaned
her hair and makeup up and was fully dressed in her
costume. We pulled up to the parking lot and I opened my
door, walked to the other side, and held her hand up as
I led her out of the car.

With such a tight costume her ass and tits, in complete
form, were visible to everyone around her. A mother
across the street, walking her child to the convention,
covered her son’s eyes and led him at faster pace inside
the convention center. The building itself was huge, and
I knew my wife would get many great stares and touches
from people all around. I knew by her walk, reminiscent
of a runway type walk, stepping almost one foot in front
of the next that she was fully confident in her body and
what would happen during the day.

As we passed large crowds of people who had regular
passes we saw many eyes staring hard at my wife from
head to toe. It was night now, the stars were out, and
we knew no one made moves out in the open outside of the
convention normally, so we headed to the VIP entrance.
We walked by the security by the VIP doors and I flashed
our identification slips. When we entered we were
welcomed with an immense 5 level building with sections
for both anime and comic conventions. There were people
of many ages, ranging from teenagers to 50 year olds.

My wife took me by the hand and led me through the
overflowing crowd of attendees. I looked down at her
body through the waves of arms and legs to see if anyone
would bite, and I was right. A couple of boys, probably
around the ages of 17 to 21, were crowding around my
wife as she pulled me along. They were taller boys, but
definitely young, one even had freckles. But they were
not the type of boys my wife was truly interested in
meeting, but she never let go a little appetizer before
her main course.

As we walked through the diverse stampede of anime and
comic character outfits, some even video game
references, the troupe of boys circling us moved closer
in to my wife. One boy was pointing to the other behind
my wife’s back while she spoke with the others in front
of her. I couldn’t make out what they were saying but
they were very animated about taking everyone somewhere.
The tallest boy was wearing a dark blue baseball cap,
had red hair and freckles, and an Iron Man t-shirt.

He and a tall Korean boy, wearing a black biker jacket
and a brown shirt underneath, were the ones discussing
behind my wife’s back. In front of her were 2 somewhat
shorter Spanish boys, both wearing X-Men t-shirts, one
Black boy who looked like he stereotypically worked out
playing basketball, and a blond-haired blue-eyed boy who
was wearing an X-Factor t-shirt. The thing I liked most
about these boys was that they obviously were working
together on a scheme.

To the casual observer it was more obvious, but to my
wife she was just indulging in small talk with the boys
in front as we pressed through the crowd to go to her
first event of the day. The Black boy was being
especially charismatic with my wife, occasionally
putting his hand on her arm or holding her hand when
pleading with her to go with them somewhere. Eventually,
after my eyes returned to my wife after having looked
around at the magnificent women and men around us, the
Korean boy was now in front with his arm around my
wife’s waist.

He was acting very sly, making small talk that sounded
only slightly suggestive to the casual observer.
Meanwhile the red haired boy, still walking behind my
wife and in front of me, with his left hand on my wife’s
back, was carefully trying to slide his hand down into
the bottom section of her costume. Obviously he was
trying to put his hand down her pants and touch her ass.
The crowd was so crazy and fast in pace that no one
would notice except for me.

We finally arrived at the artist’s alley on the fourth
floor, which by this hour had been packed up and closed.
All that remained were some groups of high school kids
sitting and talking with one another and empty booths.
To remain inconspicuous I let them continue walking, and
I followed closely behind but casually so as not to draw
attention. They banked around a corner, just past the
men’s restrooms, now huddled together tightly.

I saw no one was really around, and my wife and her
caretakers were out of sight just around that corner, so
I took out my pack of cigarettes and lit a fresh joint I
had prerolled earlier that day. I finished about half of
it, unsure how much time had passed, then put it out and
stashed it away for later. By now I saw no one except 1
small group of maid cafe girls sitting against the walls
near the escalators, probably waiting to meet their
friends, and suspiciously a blond boy wearing an X-
Factor shirt standing by the door looking back and forth
between the huge auditorium room and the escalators.

I recognized him and remembered I was with my wife
earlier. I waited for the blond boy to sit down and
rest, lowering his attention to the room, to peak around
the corner as though I were about to go to the men’s
room. My wife was there, just barely shorter than the
rest of the thin yet tall group of young boys, with one
of the boys holding her hand down their pants and the
boy across from her holding her face to his lips making
out with her.

It was the Korean boy who was making out with my wife,
holding her face close to his. My wife was leaning over
somewhat in my direction though she did not know I was
there. She moaned and I noticed there was the Black boy
behind her with that “look” that boys get when they are
having a new sexual experience at a young age. That face
that is somewhat filled with bewilderment and over
excitement. I had no doubt he was rubbing his hard-on in
his pants over my wife’s tight ass.

I could see down her cleavage from this angle, and her
necklace was hanging from her neck just in front of her
full breasts. The red haired boy was holding my wife’s
wrist in his pants, moving her hand up and down with a
firm grip on her. Suddenly the Korean boy stopped
kissing her and pushed her from her belly against the
wall. She was barely taken aback with a flirtatious grin
on her face, biting her bottom lip. The Korean boy took
her wrists while the other boys watched. He held her
hands above her head with one hand and pulled out a
Swiss army knife with the other. I was watching idly by
just across from them out of their view.

My wife was squirming sexily with her hips rubbing back
and forth against the carpeted wall. Even I could hear
her ass rubbing against those fibers. The boy moved his
hand with the knife just under the start of her top half
of her costume, but she quickly took out her hand from
his grip and held his wrist in the air. The boy looked
shocked. “No… I like this outfit.” My wife said with a
whisper of her lips looking him gently and seductively
in the eyes. She let go of his wrist and slid her hand
over his arm, to his chest, over his flat belly and into
his black jean pants. The Korean boy put his knife away
and moved in closer to my wife, with her hand pressed
between her body and his cock in his pants. The boy
started viciously making out with my wife, sliding his
hands down her sides and over her hips.

I now had a raging hard-on in my pants, pulsating, and I
had unconsciously started rubbing my hand over it
outside my pants. I looked around the room from where I
was standing, I was in the perfect place to observe the
room just by peaking out my head a bit I could look
around and barely be noticed.

The room was barren except one young maid cafe girl who
was now being chatted up by the blonde boy with the X-
Factor t-shirt. The girl looked flustered and nervous
but not uncomfortable, these boys weren’t amateurs. I
looked back at the action around the corner across from
me at my wife and the boys. I felt that sudden rush of
unease in my stomach as I saw her on her knees on the
floor, her face blocked by the Korean boy’s ass. He was
gripping her head and moving his hips back and forth
comfortably but with some force. He was face fucking
her.

I smiled… this guy had guts. The black boy had one of
her hands on his cock which was out of his pants now, it
was an uncut cock and I could make out against his dark
skinned dick the smegma that was rubbing all over my
wife’s hands. She was wearing jewelry, earrings, a
necklace that I had gotten her in Italy, and her wedding
ring that was now being scrubbed with this black boys
cock. It was always a turn on to see her being used in
that way, let alone from boys who were uncontrollably
horny.

I could see her chest heaving greatly as she was trying
to breathe with the boys cock in her mouth that must
have meant his cock was quite big and long since she is
a very proficient cock sucker. Her necklace swayed back
and forth as the Korean boy, now taking off his jacket,
he began fucking her more thoroughly and forcefully,
pounding her face. I could hear her squeal a bit as the
boy really shoved his cock in her throat over and over,
taking his time, but so forcefully I’m sure even the
cafe maid and the blonde boy could hear her squeals and
the boy’s balls smacking against my wife’s chin now.

The tallest boy, the boy with freckles, had taken out
his pale cock, which was very thick to my surprise, and
was holding my wife’s hair in a tight grip and rubbing
his cock against her face and hair and sliding it up and
down her face under her chin around her neck. He wasn’t
entirely hard but he was big enough that it was
enjoyable for him to just degrade my wife so
nonchalantly. I could imagine how she must feel,
smelling all those boys cocks, feeling their cock and
pre-cum on her face and hands, and being so startled
with the young Korean boys forceful pushes into her
throat.

She was, of course, enjoying it, but I could tell she
was still impressed and startled with how forward and
powerful the Korean boy was being. One of the Spanish
boys was on the floor, trying to get his hand into her
pants to no avail. The other Spanish boy and the others
talked with one another and the Korean boy and they
stopped their actions on her for a moment, discussing
something, like they were agreeing on what to do next
with my wife. They all got up and pulled my wife up from
her knees by her hair aggressively and she squealed in
pain for a quick moment. Wow, these boys were rough and
I loved watching it.

It looked like they were going to go somewhere else with
her into the large area further into the floor away from
the escalator and stairs that we entered through when I
felt a hand on my shoulder.

“Sir, you can’t be up here. This area is closed.” A boy
in a Comic Con/Anime Festival staff t-shirt was standing
behind me. He was taller than me, muscular, and had a
serious look on his face. He was black, shaved head, and
held his chin high with confidence. He was obviously one
of those people who worked at the convention and in
return had hours they could explore the floor. Behind
him, just off to his side, was the blonde boy with the
X-Factor shirt, smiling. “Oh, my mistake, I was just
going to use the restroom then my wife and I will leave-
” but then the blonde boy interrupted me, “You can’t be
here. You have to leave. Now.”

I realized the boys were being very serious, and I
didn’t want to start any trouble, so I nodded my head in
agreement and they walked behind me to the escalator to
make sure I left. As I reached the stairs I heard my
wife scream loudly in startled ecstasy. “Ooh! Ah! Uhf!
NnngUH! Uhn!”

Then I could hear only quieter sounds of panting and
moaning. It took me by surprise, and I looked back but
the two boys who were walking me out were blocking my
view of the larger area ahead at the other end of the
floor. All I could make out between them was a boy on
top of what I assumed was my wife on the table, but the
other boys were all around her so I could not really see
what was going on.

I heard some laughter and talk but nothing I could make
out completely other than “bitch” and “hold her…” The
two boys walking me out had a little grin on their faces
and walked forward towards me, forcing me down the
escalator. I stepped on the moving steps and began going
down to the lower floor. Once I was on the escalator the
boys closed the glass doors and the staff boy locked the
door with a key. I was locked out from my wife and a
bunch of boys who were practically raping her, but this
would give me time to enjoy the convention and find
prospective younger boys and even older men for new
contacts.

I went outside and around the corner of the building
where all the parents who smoked would congregate and
discuss their kids together. I leaned against the wall
next to a woman who looked to be about 27, she was
Hispanic by the looks of her hoop earrings and her
jacket and leggings and the way she showed off her bust
and hips.

I’m not the type of person to rely on stereotypes of
people, but you know the type of woman who wears herself
out in that sort of way; in the way that she likes the
attention of others but is strong enough to fight off
any guys who might try to take advantage of her. She had
a wedding ring on, and she lit a second cigarette, her
first inhale of the fag lit up her lips and eyes. You
could hear that first part from her lips as she quickly
pulled the cig from her lips and licked her lips
briefly. She moved her hips from side to side to get
comfortable.

Though her breasts weren’t as large as my wife’s I still
found them quite lovely. It was a bit chilly outside now
that the sun had gone down and it was the time of day
where there was still some light around from the sky, it
wasn’t ‘dark’ just yet, but the sun was nowhere in sight
and the stars weren’t completely visible yet. A blueish
hue ran over everything in sight and I kept my eyes off
the woman to my side as she took out her phone and
expediently texted someone of interest.

She looked bored, maybe a bit frustrated. Perhaps she
wasn’t getting attention from someone she wanted
attention from. I had already lit my second cigarette
when she went into her pocket to get a third, sucking
them down like there was no tomorrow, and she pulled out
an empty carton and powerlessly flung it to the ground.
I offered her my already lit cigarette and she smiled
coyly, in that way a girl will dangerously smile pulling
her chest away from you and dropping her chin to her
chest looking at you in a temptuous fashion.

She moved her lips closer to me and I put the cig in her
mouth, she was pleased and smiled at me not taking her
eyes off mine. I smiled back, and a cool breeze followed
my smile and took out everyone’s lighters and matches
just as everyone was about to light their next cig. The
night had fallen around us, and the only light left was
on that woman’s lips, illuminating a seductive smile and
eyes burning with caged desire waiting to be unlocked
and shuffled with another’s.

I took the fag out of her mouth and moved my lips to
hers, holding my hand cautiously on her waist just to
invite her to move closer. Her lips met mine and we
passionately and aggressively, though slowly, began to
make out against the cement wall. One of her legs was
lifting up behind me and pulling me closer, I put one
hand on her leg sliding up to her ass and hip, my other
hand caressed her soft neck and under her ear. I had
dropped the cigarette that was now illuminating us
against the wall. I heard footsteps as a few men walked
closer without any words.

I looked into her eyes and saw the silhouette of men
ready to join me, her eyes were soft and inviting and
she would do anything right now and take it all. I
parted my lips from hers, but she moved closer to me to
try and hold the kissing just a little more. I looked at
her and saw the shadows of the men on the wall I was
holding her against. I heard a zipper either open or
close, and then a few more. Then someone stepped on the
lit cigarette and the lights went out.

The night air gave her smooth body goosebumps and the
remnants of cigarettes, that dry wavering scent of
tobacco around, intoxicated the air. It was night now,
dark…

I wondered what my wife was doing.

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