Watching Me With Bikers

Freddy is a good husband, but it takes a lot to arouse the sexual animal that I love and need in him. Setting things up so that he could watch me with other guys used to unleash his hidden kinky streak, but it stopped working. The novelty wore off.

Then, after I screwed a biker and told him about it, I started to realize that we'd missed something in the things we were trying. Freddy needed me to up the ante, by a lot. He wanted to have to watch alpha guys, guys like that biker, take me, use me for their pleasure.

Since I know where the biker and his friends hang out, how hard could it be to make that happen? With luck, if they make Freddy watch them gangbang me things will get dirty enough to push him over the top. If not, at least I get a good gangbang.

~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~

Freddy is rich enough that he works because he wants to; he doesn't want me to work, but I don't want me to work either, so that works out. The thing is he is gone during the day and I need more in my life than daytime television or boring social events. I get invited to lots of those, but damn those people are uptight. I don't get along with them too well. Still, it meant meeting people and gave me time to think when Freddy wasn't around. So I accepted invitations from time to time, even did charity work.

When I could spend a day seducing a guy and making a video, that had seemed like a grand solution, but with Freddy in the office and needing whatever we did to be live, that wasn't any good.

One day I'd stupidly promised to go to lunch at the house of one of the stuck-up bitches to discuss some frigging campaign or other. Her house sat on twenty acres and had a fence around it and an electric gate. There were four of us “girls” at lunch; the other two were clones of the uptight hostess. Sisters in whatever.

She was having some work done on the outside of the house and, as we sat at the lunch table, I caught glimpses of the crew as they hauled materials around. A couple of the guys were a bit rough in a way I find sexy. One long-haired guy, in particular, stood out. He filled out his tee shirt nicely; he looked ready to rock and roll. Overall, he had the dreamy look of the guys who show up in my sweetest wet dreams.

The hostess saw me looking at them and snorted. “The contractor hired motorcycle thugs to do most of the work. I can only imagine it's because they work cheap.”

I thought there could be other reasons and didn't feel in the mood to let such a comment pass. “Maybe they do good work.” I wondered if she would have preferred wetbacks.

“It's inappropriate for him to have thugs like that wandering my property without a police escort. I'm going to tell him to dismiss them. I don't like having them around.”

I was sure she didn't. I was sure she didn't like a lot of things that might appeal to me. But it was none of my business. Still, her attitude got me as angry as the guys got me thinking dirty thoughts. After the ordeal that was lunch, I drove to the gate, but pulled off the driveway and parked to cool down before driving home. I was proud of myself. I'd managed the entire afternoon without insulting any of the women in a way that they noticed. It took an effort, and I wasn't sure why I bothered.

I heard a roar and turned to see a motorcycle pull up. “Everything okay?” It was one of the workers. I looked at him, noting the life in his eyes and realized that this was the one I liked. The rough one with long hair and a sexy body.

“I'm okay. I just needed to cool off.”