Part 8: My Hotwife Harlequin Romance

If you don't get laid at a Ren Faire, you'll never get laid at all...

Parts 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7

I am a nerd, 100%, no doubt about it.

The assignment was to find a place where I would seduce a man, and after fucking him, rush home to my boyfriend (which I guess means I’m never officially a hotwife, but rather a hotgirlfriend) and let him have sultry seconds. Simple enough, right?

I had many places to choose from. There’s the somewhat hidden bar that Ed clued us into where people involved in various ‘lifestyles’ go to satiate their thirsts, and other desires. Cheryl told me about a sex club with a dungeon themed play area which would give me an excuse to purchase a latex body suit or other Matrixy fetish wear. This was also a nice option for the convenience of being able to find, seduce, and fuck the gentleman right there in one spot, no need to get a room. I live in New York, the is an impossible number of options from, parks, clubs, hell on a Saturday night the right subway line is like a moving party.

But as I said, I am a nerd, through and through and this nerd chose… a Renaissance Faire. I was really leaning toward the sex club/dungeon and had even begun looking at fetish wear when I saw the poster in the window of a very geeky games shop and gaming cafe in Brooklyn. It would take over an hour to drive there, and Blair asked how I was so sure I’d find someone who wanted to fuck at a Renaissance Faire. I had to laugh at this question.

“Oh, Blair, you are making it abundantly obvious that you’ve never attended a Ren Fair.” I teased.

“Guilty. I never have. I’ve always imagined its mostly neckbeards standing around saying ‘m’lady’ and bowing at a small number of women who ended up there on accident.” he replied.

“M’lord, I’m afraid you’re sadly mistaken. Yes, there’ll be nerds of all flavors, but a ren faire is just about the horniest place on earth. Lusty, busty wenches with their tits pushed up and out, fully on display, men showing off the size of their swords, all drinking flagons of ale, and partaking in the kind of inhibition shedding that comes with wearing a costume and getting to be someone else for a spell. If you can’t get laid at a Ren Faire, you’ll never get laid at all. Who knows, I may be bent over by a minotaur and fucked good and proper from behind with my dress and petticoats raised over my ass, and my knickers down around my ankles, without ever even seeing his human face.”

“Yeah, okay. I’m sold. Let’s go to the renaissance faire.”

“Are you going to join me? You’ll need to dress up.”

“What have I gotten myself into?”

“My pants, dear. Now start sounding more appreciative of it. You’re a lucky man.”

I went to a costume shop in my neighborhood and fortune was with me. I found a green velvet corset dress that fit like it was made for me. It had the requisite cleavage display, and a nice high slit on the side allowing me to show off plenty of leg as well.

Blair rented a very simple costume that reminded me of Westley’s stable boy outfit at the beginning of The Princess Bride. When I told him this he added a fencing sword and pledged to spend the week growing a mustache. I was glad he was getting into the spirit, and he only asked “Are you sure?” a dozen or so more times.

Saturday came at last and I was excited getting dressed, especially knowing what it was I was planning to do. I wondered if I chose the Ren Faire to lighten the pressure, by doing something that wasn’t explicitly sexual and that was a fun outing on its own, in case I chickened out. But the dress was very sexy on me, and it was tantalizing to be heading far from home to a place of dress up and make-believe where I could get lost in a fantasy.

Blair and I rented a car and drove out to the faire. All afternoon we took in the scene, watching duels, being aggressively and dramatically sold trinkets, and spells, and eating all manner of smoked, fire roasted, and pickled foods. Despite the abundance of cleavage and some very horny jugglers, it was all quite wholesome by light of day.

As the sun began to set and a group of musicians began setting up for dancing, Blair kissed me on the neck and whispered in my ear, “I’m going to check in at the motel. Have fun, and please, not a juggler.”

I laughed, and as I watched him go I was excited, and nervous and turned on. I wondered if I’d have any luck, as during the day things were less flirty than I’d remembered, but the minute I was a single woman knights and wizards and princes and kings began hitting on me in old timey english. And I flirted back. I was danced with, and drinks were bought for me and I felt beautiful, and sexy, and I also started to feel just a little bit tipsy and a little bit turned on, maybe more than a little bit. Mostly I began to feel like I was in one of the romance novels I read whenever my family visited my Aunt Clara when I was a teenager. These Harlequin romance novels, the ones with shirtless men holding large breasted women on the covers, were my guilty pleasure and for one week every summer I devoured them.

I had seen the buff blacksmith who’d done a demo earlier in the day dancing with a curvy brunette. I looked around, hoping I might get the next dance. I saw no sign of him now. It may have been a matter of the heart most wanting that which it is denied, but I was sure now that I had to have this blacksmith. I decided to visit his stall where he’d set up shop. His equipment was already packed up into a trailer hitched to a van. I heard what was unmistakably the groaning, grunting sounds of sex. I walked around the back of his stall, and there was the buxom brown haired lass I’d seen dancing with him earlier. The side of the van was open and she was bent forward, gripping the back seat. Her dress was lifted up over her ass, and pulled down in the front to allow her big, full breasts to bounce in the night air as the blacksmith, still in his old timey costume, but with the pants down around his ankles was driving his cock into her from behind. I didn’t turn away, or hide. I stood in plain sight and watched him fuck her. She was a full figured, lovely woman with a big round ass, large round tits, and gorgeous shapely legs. Watching her lost in ecstasy, so fully enjoying having this burly muscular man thrusting his thick cock into her, I was enthralled, it was a gorgeous scene.

Then he looked at me. He turned his head and our eyes met. I felt a surge of panic but he just smiled and, gripping her curvaceous hips, he continued fucking her while holding my gaze. I pushed the slit of my dress aside, and felt a cool breeze blow over my legs. I became intensely aware of how warm I was getting between my legs. The slit was cut high enough I was able to raise the dress just a touch and reach my hand into my panties. I slid my finger between my pussy lips, feeling the wetness. I closed my eyes as I ran my middle finger over my clit, and when I opened them again the blacksmith was still watching me, still smiling, and still fucking his buxom mistress but I noticed for the first time that I wasn’t the only one enjoying the show. Over his shoulder I saw that the bard who’d earlier made me laugh with naughty rhymes and songs near the Ale stall, was now standing beside a tree, in it’s moonlight shadow, pumping his fist over his hard cock. With all of us in our costumes, only the green FORD van kept this from looking like the scene in an especially dirty Harlequin romance. I found this almost as sexy, and thrilling as it was hilarious.

The curvy brunette was cumming loudly now, and I worried my bard would as well before I had a chance to get to him. Or did I want the blacksmith? Decisions, decisions. Her loud, enthusiastic orgasm echoed around me. Several people cheered from the direction of the dance. I took my hand from my panties, and locking eyes with my bard I walked toward him, which also meant I was walking toward the fucking couple. She’d spun around now and dropped to her knees. She was sucking and stroking the blacksmith’s cock, and as I reached them, he started to cum. Without thought, I reached around him and wrapped my thumb and index finger around the base of his cock with my other three fingers pressed against his balls, which were now pulled up tight, as he pumped cum into her. She had his shaft deep in her mouth, the head cumming directly down her throat. She didn’t respond at all to feeling my fingers against her lips as she throated him. I kissed his neck and enjoyed my brief involvement in their outdoor fuck. He grunted one final grunt, and as he pulled his already softening cock from her mouth I was treated to the delightful site of the last of his cum dripping onto her large, milky white tits.

I hoped my bard hadn’t cum with them. My eyes located him, still standing beside the tree, gripping his wonderfully still hard cock. I left the gasping out of breath couple and continued on my path toward the stranger in the shadows.

“Are you needing a poem?” he asked, showing no shame about the long, hard cock he was still holding. “Maybe a song?”

“Maybe after you fuck me.” I replied. I could feel that my panties were now soaked and I wanted him.

“Follow me.” he said, tucking his cock back into his pants and I did so without question. He lead me to the hayride wagon, and I wondered if he was looking to share me with the driver. I was there to follow the story wherever it went at this point.

“Mind giving us a moonlight ride?” he asked the man brushing one of the two horses hitched to the wagon.

“Fifty bucks.” the driver answered without looking up.

“Indeed.” my bard replied back, and then he lead me to the steps at the rear of the hay filled wagon. “My lady.” he said, offering his hand to help me up. He pulled a blanket from his pack and lay it over the hay. As we lay down, both of us already turned on by the show we’d just gotten, we immediately locked our mouths together. He was thin but muscular and he had the large strong hands of a guitar player. He had the beginning of a beard, and I wondered if he, like Blair, was growing it for the event.

He reached to undo the laces of my dress. “There’s a hidden zipper.” I whispered.

“Witchcraft.” he responded with a wry smile as he unzipped the corset top. He continued undressing me, leaving my boots that came almost to my knees. I lay back on the blanket and spread my legs for him. Tree branches passed by above as the wagon made its way down the trail and the cool evening felt wonderful against my exposed skin. I reached down and pushed my lips apart, exposing and offering my pussy to this man whose name I didn’t know. He was still fully dressed as he lowered himself, and pressed his face between my legs. With my fingers in his hair, he licked my wet, swollen pussy until I was pushing myself into his face, and feeling the slow growing rumble of an approaching orgasm. I could still hear the music in the distance. He pressed this thumb into me, his other hand against my sternum making me feel held to the wagon. I pushed my pussy back against his tongue as he pressed it firmly against my clit, slowly moving it over, up and back down and back up, while he fucked me with his thumb. I came, loudly. I held his head in place and fucked his face as I had a hard, strong, rolling orgasm.

I could see the back of the wagoners head. He paid us no mind and continued along the trail, seemingly unaffected by the goings on in his hay wagon. I felt suddenly very committed to my character and I looked up at the bard, with my juices on his face and said, “Will you have my mouth or my cunt, my lord?”

“Turn around, you gorgeous wench, and I will mount you.” I happily got on my hands and knees, again feeling very naked and exposed as a breeze blew over my warm, pussy. He fucked me first with his long, lovely fingers, one, then the other, then two. It felt wonderful, and as much as I wanted to be filled by his cock, I was willing to let him play my pussy like an instrument as long as he wished. I moaned, and said, “Yes, yes please, don’t stop.” letting him know he was touching me exactly right.

When he took his fingers from my pussy and put both hands on my hips I was slowly swaying my hips in gleeful anticipation of him entering me. I felt the tip of his cock run between my lips, pressing, seeking my slick, wet hole. I let out a loud “OH!” as his rock hard cock filled my pussy. I couldn’t help but notice he was about the same girth as Blair, but a little bit longer. I loved the difference, I loved having this stranger fucking me, and knowing that soon Blair would be fucking me as well.

He fucked me hard, and greedily like a man who knew he’d already given me mine, and was now all about getting his. Lucky for me, he wasn’t one who came quickly, and the wagon driver seemed in no hurry to circle back. I lowered myself onto my elbows, with my ass up, my hips being firmly gripped as he continued fucking me hard, slamming his cock into me, and then pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in again.

“Yes, fuck me! Oh, fuck me my lord! My pussy is yours. I am yours.” I said, both enjoying being in character, and hoping to add to his enjoyment of me. His moan told me he liked the dirty talk. “Do you want to call me your whore? Am I your slut? Am I?”

“Yes, yes, you wonderful, wicked slut! Your pussy is so wet and tight. I love fucking your tight, hot pussy.” he said fucking me faster, and harder.

“Fuck my pussy! I’m your slut. Fuck me. Fuck your slut.” I said, smiling with the joy of it all even as I meant to be sultry. I could tell he was about to cum and I asked him, “Do you want to cum in my pussy, or all over my naked body.”

“I want to cum on you.” he answered immediately.

I could tell he was on the edge, so I dropped onto my belly, taking his cock out of me. I flipped over onto my back quickly. I pulled him onto me. “Slide your cock back in. Fuck my wet pussy some more.” I demanded. I grabbed his cock and led him in, I kissed him and wrapped my legs around him. I bucked my hips, and met his thrusts. I started building toward cumming myself and I pushed my clit against his pubic bone hoping I’d get there in time.

“I’m going to cum!” he announced to the night around us.

I planted my feet, opened my knees and said, “Cum on me!”

He pulled out, and stroked his cock. I fingered my pussy, with him kneeling between my thighs. “Cum on baby, shoot your hot cum all over me.”

The first shot flew over my torso, and hit me in the neck. The next shot hit my tits, and then he shot a puddle of cum onto my stomach. “Cum on baby, oh yes, oh yes.” I was cumming hard and could barely manage to keep pushing filthy talk out to keep him cumming. I wiped the cum from my throat and tasted it. It was still warm, and salty and thick. I wanted more. I considered seeing if the driver would fuck my mouth. I felt insatiable.

I heard the music growing louder, and could hear people talking. We were close to being back. I laughed at myself, and quickly started pulling on my dress. I didn’t bother trying to find my panties.

“Can I have your number?” he asked.

“No. Sweet bard. I’m just a ghost of these woods. If you’re lucky maybe you’ll see me at the next faire.” and with that I kissed him on the lips, lowered myself out of the wagon and walked off toward the parking area where Blair had left the car for me. I passed a foursome who were fondling each other and I heard one of them negotiate with the driver for a late night hay ride. I wondered how much he made running these after hours rides, and more than that I wondered what he’d seen and heard.

I rushed back to the hotel. It was so dark out here away from the city. The stars were bright and filled the sky in a way I hadn’t seen in too long. I was getting aroused just thinking about getting back to Blare. I leapt up the stairs and banged on the door of our motor lodge room.

“You look wonderfully disheveled. I take it your mission was a success.” he said letting me in.

“Can’t you smell it on me?”

“Mmmm, I can.” he said, and kissed me.

“Sit.” I ordered. He sat on the bed and I pushed him back until he was against the headboard. I straddled him still in my dress and I felt his cock grow stiff in his pants as I told him about the blacksmith and the voluptuous woman I found him fucking.

“Did you join them?” he asked, as I unzipped his pants and took his cock out.

“Ssssh, no guessing.” I answered, dry stroking his cock and continuing my tale, pausing now and then to suck his cock before returning to stroking him and telling him about my adventures. Mentioning all the men I’d met, and flirted with, and letting him wonder which one I would choose to fuck me. I continued stroking, and sucking his hard cock as I wove my tale, all the way through to the fantastic tonguing I got on the hay ride. Then I stripped off my dress, leaving my boots on, I wasn’t sure I’d ever take them off again, and I hovered my still wet, freshly fucked pussy over him as I told him how I’d gotten all fours and let the cute bard have his way with me. I kept talking as I lowered myself on him, and I did my best to continue my narration despite the intense and building pleasure I felt riding my lover’s cock while telling him all about the wonderful fucking I’d just received from a stranger’s cock.

Blair had always been good at holding off cumming until he, and I, were ready. I could feel how turned on he was. He was thrusting his hips up at me hard, and moaning with need. “Try not to cum. How long can you keep from cumming thinking of me on the back of that wagon being fucked from behind wearing nothing but my boots? His cock was so big, and he fucked me so well. Don’t cum yet baby.” I wanted to make him cum in spite of his efforts not to, to overpower him until he couldn’t help it. “Can you smell his cum on me? He came all over me, while I thrashed about having orgasm after, orgasm.” I was fingering my clit, riding his cock and talking filthy and it was too much; I began to cum, but I pushed myself to keep talking. “Oh, oh, god, I loved his cock in me. I loved being fucked in the woods, being a stranger’s slut. Oh God!” and Blair moaned loudly, and pulled me hard down to him as he pushed his cock all the way in me and came, and came, and came. I was having a hard rolling orgasm before he started and now it was almost too much, all I could do was cling to him for dear life and feel his warm cum flooding my pulsating pussy.

We lay on top of each other gasping for breath for a long time after. Finally Blaire broke the silence. “Okay, you’ve convinced me. I like renaissance faires.”

He had ordered us Indian food and it was still warm. “I’m fucking starving.” I announced as I dug a bottle of wine from my purse. We ate picnic style on the bed.

“To the hottest sex of my life.” I said, raising my plastic motel cup full of wine.

“And of mine.” Blair agreed. We tapped our cups together and drank. We kissed with our mouths still wet with wine, and then he helped me out of my boots and into the shower. I was amazed to see it was only 9:30 when we got out of the shower. We put on our swimsuits and took advantage of the hot tub being open until 11. Afterward we fell into a heavy and well earned sleep.

We’d served our King well, his kingdom was safe from the scourge of sexlessness for now. We remain ever vigilant and ready to slay the beast of puritanism and frigidity. Oh, and I’m sure at some point my ample bosom was heaving under the light of the waning moon, or something like that. The end.

Part 9: To Boldly Go...

Parts 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7

Looking for a blacksmith.