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By rodsti@hotmail.com (Rod Stiffener)

I am a First Secretary at our Embassy, one of several such diplomats who are next rank down from the Ambassador himself. That means I have to tread the cocktail circuit a fair bit, which frankly is a bore. It sounds great to be out partying as a profession, but unfortunately you have to stay fairly sober, mind what you say to people, and listen to all their bullshit. After you've been for a while posted in one place, it gets to be the same old people talking the same old bullshit. But I have to do it, as "networking" goes with the territory. And you do pick up some interesting gossip from those for whom the novelty of unlimited free drinks has not yet worn off.
The one oasis in this social desert was the functions held at the Residence of the new British Ambassador. He was an old fart, but his wife Samantha was smashing. Smashing to look at, I mean. When in his forties, he had wed a young show-biz type in her early twenties. Since he was now around sixty, that made her almost forty. She was about 5'5" and built along Teri Hatcher lines, but a wee bit plumper with the onset of mid-life. This made her breasts a tad bigger, her arse fuller and her tummy a bit more rounded. All of which,Monroe-fashion, simply added more dangerous curves. And she liked to dress up for functions. Not ornately, but simply and sexily. Her favourite was backless gowns of elegant cut with the hem just above the knee. Great legs. He obviously liked her to show off her figure with clinging outfits of thin fabric, and he always seemed to beam with pride when she was on his arm. Yes, well chosen, Harry.
So there we all were, the diplomatic corps regulars plus the usual sprinkling of social climbers who always put their names on Embassy resident-nationals lists. We were quaffing wine and finger-food in honour of some state occasion. It really was the type of dreary little nation where there was nothing interesting to do except drink and fornicate. More on the latter later.
It was getting toward the end of the evening, and I had just finished listening to a local politician griping away about this and that. I got away from him and joined a colleague over in a corner. He had just finished being chatted to by Samantha.She had joined another group and now had her back to us. As usual she looked great. Tonight her voluptuousness was clad in a matt-black dress that stopped above her knees and had splits partway up the sides.It left her shoulder-blades bare, except for thin straps which ran over and secured (not all that tightly) the two triangles of fabric in front which covered her chest. The width of these was only just adequate to conceal her breasts, and her nipples were easily discernable under the thin covering. Each breast would wobble pleasingly as she moved about. Her long dark hair was piled up in an elegant coiffure, and she had a single short strand of pearls around her neck, worn like a "choker". Gazing at her derriere, I could not see even a hint of a panty line to mar the shape of each arse cheek (curious, I thought). The dress fabric fell across the curve of her bum so faithfully that it even hugged into the cleft in between."So, what did she have to say for herself?" I said to my colleague."She talks about nothing very much, but in an entertaining way."
"Well, if you don't want to listen I guess you can always just look.""Actually, I could hardly tear my eyes away from her tits," he murmured. "And there may be hope for somebody. I have heard some scuttlebutt that she may not just be a case of Can See Can't Touch.""Yeah, right; when we finally get a spunky-looking Mrs Ambassador over here, someone's bound to go and say that.""No, I have it on good authority. It could well be that she likes a young stallion now and again. My source says that young Martin from the French Embassy was noticably absent near the end of last month's do, for about half an hour. And so was she.""I didn't notice, and I was there.""You should be more observant, then.""So you think he went up to view her etchings?""Unless it was coincidence, but my informant thinks not."I filed this away in my brain under "I" for "Intriguing",and we separated to circulate some more.
I gravitated toward her group, and ended up in conversation with her for about a minute. It was just the usual politely-interested "Who are you, and how long have you been in this place" sort of stuff from her,pitched at a professional level but with a twinkle in her eye all the same. She held a glass of white wine, and seemed to be just a little bit tipsy. Her accent was very proper BBC English, probably calculatedly so, as the occasional word would betray slightly more provincial origins.
My colleague was right about her breasts. They were magnificent. The black material of her dress might as well have been spray-painted on, for all the good they did at stopping you seeing exactly what her boobs looked like. About a C cup, very full and round, and slightly pendulous. When she moved, they moved too. The two raised bumps caused by her nipples were particularly enticing. I got the slight impression that she was checking me out too, because she was regarding me a bit more intently than our "sweet nothings" level of conversation really warranted. She turned and leaned forward a bit to pick up a smoked-salmon tid bit from a passing tray, and the movement created a bit of slack in one shoulder strap. The fabric of her dress fell forward slightly and afforded me an excellent profile view of the curve of her upper breast, almost down to the fairly-prominent nipple. It was just a glimpse, as she turned back and popped the salmon between her lips. "Mmmm ... " she said of the salmon, "truly sex-on-a-plate ..."Before I could think of anything to say to that, some-one else buttonholed her and I retreated.I sat by myself on a sofa in a side alcove and nursed my drink. The glimpse of her breast had caused a sudden hot tingling all around the back of my neck, and I was savouring those feelings. This woman excited me beyond belief.Next, to my surprise, she and a gentleman came and sat on a sofa directly opposite me, about 15 feet away. They were in conversation (don't ask me what about!),and she didn't look my way at all. I could see something of her smooth thighs, though her legs were crossed and this stopped anyone looking right up her skirt. But then, still talking to her companion, she uncrossed her legs quite slowly and then recrossed them the other way. Again it was just a glimpse, but under the tent made by that momentarily-tightened short skirt I saw what was practically a naked pussy. I say practically naked, because the gusset of whatever passed for panties was, across her vaginal area, really just a loose strip of scallop-edged black lace no more than about half an inch wide. It did not so much cover the lips to her entrance as disappear into them, and into the crack of her arse. She had very little pubic hair in that area, just a dusting of fine black hairs on the crest of those pale fleshy lips.Of course this had to have been deliberate. One does not succeed as a short-skirted socialite without knowing exactly which way one's pussy is pointing. Or at whom, for that matter. Had my colleague been thinking along the right track? If so, then she must be quite a sexual opportunist to be wearing knickers like that on a state occasion.The gentleman opposite tore himself away from the vision of her breasts to go and freshen his drink. She stood up, and for the first time glanced briefly my way. If I had blinked I would have missed it, but she jerked her head very slightly in a silent "Follow me." Then she strolled toward the main staircase. Heading for the stairs was not of itself unusual behaviour, since the Ladies and Gents rooms were off the upstairs mezzanine.But giving me the nod to follow was certainly unusual for a Mrs Ambassador. My better judgement was saying "Don't even think about it!" I didn't know what she had in mind for us,but it clearly involved going somewhere more private. And for two people of our social standing, this was taking a huge risk. For me, any scandal would get me sent to a posting in Antarctica. But I found about a minute later that I was indeed thinking about it, not only that, I was up and my feet were moving. Once upstairs she headed past the Ladies and on down the long corridor. Twenty yards or so behind, I admired the swaying of her arse as she stalked along on her high heels. My brains had definitely moved to regions south, because, having entranced me with deliberately-revealed bits of herself, she was now practically leading me along by my dick. Only when she got to the far door did she turn and lookback to check if I was coming. She was waiting insidethe darkened room when I got there, and she closed thedoor behind us."Glad you could make it."She stood close in front of me, and without further adoshe put her hand right on the front of my trousers. Mydick was only about a half-fat at the time, reflecting mymix of anticipation yet uncertainty over the agenda forthis meeting. But when she started rubbing the palm ofher hand up and down it a few times, there was soon aridgepole making a tent in my fly."It was soooo boring listening to those old fossils. Ihad to get away for at least a moment.""You're not worried about us creating a diplomaticincident?" I paid final lip-service to propriety."Darrrling! I adore diplomatic incidents! That's why Ienticed you up here."My fly got unzipped, and she fished out my now-hardened penis. She sank to her knees, and took thehead straight into her mouth. Soft lips closed around itand her head started bobbing up and down. I gasped. Itfelt great! Teeth well out of the way, just encirclinglips, swirling tongue, and velvety cheek linings clingingto my pole as they sucked-in on each outstroke. Shewas clearly well-practiced at the art of blowing.I mellowed out and just enjoyed the sensations in myprick. Adjusting to the light, I noticed for the first timethat we were in a large dining room. It was dimly litthrough the windows by the glow of some lamps out inthe grounds below. Expensively but tastefully furnishedin a Victorian style, with oil paintings on the walls,antique sideboards of dark mahogany or walnut, a centralchandelier, and a substantial dining table that couldseat about a dozen. Its french-polished surface gleamedin the twilight.I looked down at Samantha's expensively-coiffured headas it bobbed up and down. One hand was pumping myengorged prick as she sucked. Her other hand wasunder the hem of her black gown, pressed between herlegs. She pulled back from my cock and stood up."Okay, its good and hard. Now fuck me with it."Who could resist an invitation like that? My earsseemed to burn at the hearing of it. At the same time,why was she in such a hurry?I backed her up against that huge table. She slippedher bottom up onto it, and lay back on her elbows. Igrabbed each ankle and spread her legs out wide, sothat they formed a "vee" in the air. Parting them hadmade her short dress ride up to the tops of her thighs,so her scantily-clad fanny was now nicely displayed. Ileaned forward and licked my tongue down her innerthighs then over her bulging sit-sac. It was now possible to unravel the mystery of thepanties. They were basically a black G-string, madefrom a narrow triangle of lace-edged silk which triedbut failed to adequately cover her mound. The lowerpoint of this triangle tapered off altogether just abovethe clit area. This meant that the only thing coveringthe entrance to her vagina was a narrow lacy ribbon; itran between her legs and up her arsecrack to join thethin straps of the waistbands at the small of her back. No wonder there was no panty line!Since the lacy ribbon had a certain amount of slack init, I was able to just pull it to one side with my teeth. My tongue glided over her bare lips, going from anus toclitoral hood. She shuddered. I did it again, with thesame result. Her fine, straight black pussy hairs were astark contrast against the pale skin of her mound, likelittle engraved lines all pointing inward toward thepinkness at bottom dead centre. Poking one finger atthe soft, yielding vaginal lips, it was swallowed up ina scalding wetness that seemed to give off heat like afurnace. "Fuck me."Thanks for reminding me. I stood and put one of herlegs straight up on my shoulder, the other I bent atthe knee and laid sideways on the table. Holding mycockhead against her entrance and taking aim, I heavedit in with a single thrust. Her head flew back and shegasped with the suddenness of it. Pearls gleamed acrossher throat. I felt encased in a hot moistness thatseemed to suck at my dick. I reached forward and pulled the straps of her dressdown off her shoulders as I started my fuck-motion. The hills made by her breasts rocked back up towardher armpits in time to each thrust. I love to watch asbreasts are rolling around like that in response to myhumping. I grabbed one and squeezed it firmly, myfingers digging in a bit. It completely filled my handwith its softness, with some to spare. I held the stifflittle teat between thumb and forefinger and tugged itin time with my fuck movements, lifting the wholebreast up into a pointed cone on each pull.She was starting to make a little bit of noise, just soft-ly going "Uuuuh! Uuuuh!" in time with my strokes. To meher passage felt very pleasant indeed, being moderatelytight and well lubricated. I was just starting to get thatfamiliar feeling in the base of my cock which warrantsan increase in tempo, when suddenly the room's lightssnapped on."Starting without me again, my dear?"It was Harry!He closed the door and stood there, in immaculateevening dress, taking in the sight of his wife on herback with legs wide apart, being thoroughly fucked byone of his guests.I froze. I was mortified. Luckily he was British, as theydon't normally carry guns. But the next exchange ofremarks were not what I expected in a scene like this."Darrling! I was just getting it warmed up for you."Samantha's expression was far from fearful, in fact shehad on a slight smirk, like the cat that ate the cream. Or that was just about to."Well, come on man! Don't keep the lady waiting!""Eh?"I was standing stock-still, with my cock buried deepinside her. Somehow it seemed more polite to stay wellinserted, rather than flop my willy out to where oldHarry might see it."Finish her off. She wants to come. And I want towatch.""Your guests ... ?""... are leaving. My staff are showing them out. Nowget on with it."Well, I wanted to come too, despite the weirdness ofthe situation. And it explained why Samantha had wantedto cut right to the chase with me - she had WANTEDher husband to walk in and see her already fuckingwith someone else!I restarted the humping and picked up speed. Harrywalked around to the other side of the table, andSamantha lay down full-length till her head nearlyreached right across. She was slithering about a bit onthe french-polished surface, and I had to grip her thighsfirmly so she didn't skate away with each thrust.Harry had his dick hanging out of his fly, and thoughhe was well hung, all it did was hang. That's right, itwas completely limp. Not even a hint of an erection. He didn't bat an eyelid about it though, and, moving incloser, Samantha was able to tip her head right backand take it into her mouth. It still didn't get hard,though. My fuck motions were causing Harry's flacciddick to stretch out thinner as Sam slid away from him,then squash down fatter as she slid back again. It waslike watching the locomotion of a sea anenome.Samantha's vaginal walls started convulsivelytightening around my cock. She released her husbandssoft cock from her mouth, so that she could make noiseagain. "Oh-fuck. Oh-fuck. Oh-fuck. Ooooohhhhhhh!". The cunt-squeezing was too much for me, my tempobecame frantic. Then she went all quiet, arched herback and turned her head away with eyes tight shut inconcentration. Her breasts shook as her body gave lotsof little shudders.I was now close to the edge myself, feeling stuffwelling up from my balls and not caring who might bewatching, I just wanted to get my cockend going inharder and deeper."Come right in her. I want your spunk right up insideher."Okay Harry, here goes!. Each spurt followed hard onthe heels of a huge thrust that buried my cockhead asdeeply as it could go. I forgot all about where I was,who I was, who I was fucking, or even whether I couldbe hurting her. I just got totally lost in that momentwhen one's prick becomes the centre of the Universe,and you want it as far up into a warm Black Hole as isphysically possible. But Harry had no time for Metaphysics, he wanted meout of the way. Back on my side of the table now, hesteered me firmly aside the instant I came to a stop."Quick, I want to see what you've done in there."Samantha pulled her legs up till her feet were on thetabletop with knees bent, like a woman in labour. Harry bent down and looked right up her twat. Ilooked over his shoulder to see what he was looking at."Yes!I can see his spunk right there in your hole!"He used his hands to spread her pussy out until it wasgaping wide. Sure enough, a whitish glob of my semenwas sitting inside, a contrast against the pink, pulpyvaginal walls. He dabbed it up with his fingertip andsmeared it out along the edges of her entrance.I could see that his prick was now quite respectablyerect. Usably erect, in fact."Get up dear, I want you on top of me."Harry wriggled onto the table-top and lay on his back,long fat dick held straight up out of his trouser frontlike a pylon. Sam stood on the tabletop, hitched up herskirt and crouched down onto him. From my vantagepoint I saw Harry's cock bend a bit as her pussy lipstook the strain of being parted by its huge head, butin the next moment she had eased herself down onto it. Putting her hands palmdown on the table behind her totake her weight, she started raising and lowering herpelvis rhythmically, sliding her twat up and down thatenormous rubbery cock. After a while my semen beganto seep down out of her and onto him. The shinytranslucent whiteness of it covered his prick in a thinfilm, and got wiped off onto her where it formed a haloaround her tightly-stretched vaginal lips.Her glass of white wine was still on the table where shehad left it. I picked it up and held it to her lips. Shesipped, but bumped the glass with her chin in mid-hump and wine spilled down onto her breasts. Itsoaked into the front of the black dress which was nowall bunched up around her waist. I stooped and lickedthe rivulets of wine from the skin of the nearest softand undulating breast, paying particular attention tothe hard nipple. Harry lay back with his hands foldedbehind his head to prop it up and improve his view ofus.I took the glass again and slowly poured the remainderof the wine down her lower belly, so it ran over hermound and around Harry's embedded cock. The blacksilk of the G-string got pasted to her pubic area by thedrenching. I put my hand under the silk covering andran my fingers over her smooth, near-hairless mound -just light strokes with my fingertips, up, down andaround. My middle finger located her clit which couldbe felt peeping from its fleshy inverted-vee hood. Icontinued cupping her mons with the middle fingerdoing tiny, light circles on this little bud. My fingeroccasionally bumped against Harry's pistoning cock atthe junction between the two of them. My mouth found her full breast again and I gave it athorough exploration, licking my tongue along itsmilky-white sides to her armpit and back over itssoftness to the pink nipple. I sucked the nipple firmlyinto my mouth and anchored it there between my lips. Holding my head stationary, I didn't have to doanything as her increasingly violent movements tuggedthe breast about for me. My dick, which hadn'tsoftened much anyway, was now fully hard again.She came a second time, in hard juddering movementsthat broke her humping rhythm up into chaoticspasms. Her legs were a bit rubbery after this, butHarry still hadn't come."Turn over, dearest, and I'll get behind you."She got off and went down on all fours, resting downon her elbows with arse in the air. The striplike"gusset" of her G-string ran crookedy up past one sideof her crack, and there was absolutely no need toremove it. Her vulva was wide open and waiting. Shefaced me, and Harry got behind her on the tabletop sothat her pale heart-shaped arse was silhouettedperfectly against his dark dinner suit.He launchedinto her with a vehemence that betrayed a need to comesoon, and come hard. I stood on tiptoe so my cock was level with her mouth. She got the hint and slurped at it, but it was hard tofellate me properly because of Harry pounding away atthe other end. She just sucked me into her mouth andheld me there, which felt good anyway because Harry'smovements into her caused her to move on me. Ireached under with both hands, and let the ends ofthose magnificent swaying breasts brush against myupturned palms.We stayed like this for a several minutes as Harrymaintained a steady motion and I just revelled in thenew sensations being applied to my twitching dick. Then Harry started making piggy grunting noises, andhis face went beet-red. I hoped he was fit enough forthis level of activity. Gripping her hips tightly, heheaved himself into her full-force and went"Aaaaaaaaaaaaa -aaa-aaa-aaaah!"I shot moments later. The violence being done at theother end caused my cock to come out of Samantha'smouth momentarily, but she recovered it. This left acouple of shots of jism on her nose and cheek, whilethe rest went against the back of her throat.Harry de-cunted and stood there breathing hard, dickalready softening in his hand.Samantha gave me alast bit of sucking to wring out the final drops of myjism. Then she just rolled away onto her back and laythere, semi-comatose, dress up around her waist andlegs akimbo. Harry had produced a fair jugful of creamwhich, added to mine, meant that Sam's cunt runnethover.A whitish trail was creeping out of the prettypink folds of her vaginal entrance to pool in the crackby her arsehole.I remembered my manners in front of a Mr Ambassadorand put my now-aching cock back in my pants. Harrystowed his away too."Well done, young fella! I really got it off thattime.""I don't understand! Did you plan all this?""You bet! Sam and I chose you together. Of course,she had to lay the bait to get you up here.""Why? If I were you, I would want to keep her all tomyself!""Ah, there's a problem there. I had something done tomy prostate two years ago, and its been difficult to getit up ever since. Only when I give vent to my wildestfantasies can I get any signs of life out of the oldfella.""And my biggest thrill with my darling wife comes fromseeing someone else screw her first. The idea ofplunging my tool into another bloke's leftovers is analmost guaranteed cock-stiffener. Sam is glad that itpleases me, and I think it pleases her to have somefresh meat now and again.""We have to choose carefully though, discretion and allthat. There was a chap from the French Embassy but heis being transferred and we need a replacement.""Of course you won't mention this to anyone. It wouldbe a blot on your career if this got about. Best keepyour mouth shut and join in the fun. In for a penny,in for a pound, eh?""By the way, Sam is able to take it up the bottom aswell, you know."Once again, my senses were reeling."Next time ..." I replied.Samantha didn't say anything, or even open her eyes. But her cum-daubed lips formed into a very satisfied smile.