Breakfast of Champions

I am in the shower, singing at the top of my lungs. "Nothing could be finer than to be in your vagina in the morning! Nothing could be sweeter than your lips around my peter in the morning! Nothing could be greater than to be a masturbater
in the morning! Nothing could be sweeter than to be a pussy eater in the morning!..." Suzy climbed in the shower with me, her luscious 36C-27-38 figure making me forget which verse I was on. Her soft lips kissed me, and I forgot which
planet I was on. Her long dark hair was just above the curves of the twin cheeks of her ripe ass. I'd drooled over her hot body for months at school, where I was going to become an aircraft mechanic, and she was going to become a bookkeeper.

Now I held her soft body close to me, reminding myself that a clean person is a happy person, so I soaped my wife all over, carefully rinsed her, and knelt to taste her. She slumped against the wall of the shower, the spray thrashing her lusciously
full breasts, streaming down in rivers between her legs, where my mouth feasted on her hot hair pie, our favorite way to start the day. I never stopped to think she might want to have something to eat as well, and by the time she had recovered her senses enough to tell me, I was dressed and off to work at the airport. Being a certified aircraft mechanic is good pay, and Suzy gave up the job she'd taken
that turned out to be nothing better than an opportunity for her boss to sexually harass her. He remembered her from the strip club where she'd worked her way through school. Thank goodness she didn't have to put up with that anymore.

We'd gone on for many years, didn't have children, with our quiet little suburban lives. We picked up hobbies. She did needlepoint, dog shows, and theater. I did fishing, camping, and bowling. Most of our friends were married too. It was surprising how quickly someone dropped out of your social circle when they got divorced. Most people saw them as a threat to their marriage. Most divorced people want someone with a life style like theirs, so married people need not apply, to a world where sexual partners change as often as women's fashions. It was very surprising that our bowling team consisted of four divorced guys and me, but we'd been friends a long time, and the habit was deep to go to the lanes every Wednesday night and see the guys. They felt deeply about each other, and we missed anyone who was out. I felt their pain when they talked about their divorces, how hard it was to find a good woman. I was glad I didn't have to look for one, any further than Suzy.

She was no virgin when I married her, but she was no catty slut, either. I found her to have a healthy and balanced sexual appetite. She had always renewed my men's magazines subscriptions for me, subscribed to her own erotic letters magazine, loved XXX rated videos, and shared her fantasies with me freely, as I did with her. Here in Oklahoma, I just didn't see them cumming true. Maybe if we lived in California, or even in Texas, but not here. I had so convinced myself that location, your State mattered, that I couldn't see the real truth: only your state of mind matters. Fortunately, I had married Suzy. She always reminded me of the things

I forgot, like my lunch box, and never minded showing me things, like how she really liked to be eaten out. She never made lunch for me, really, but never made

me feel small, but always tall. I loved her. Still do.

Ben, Jerry, Tom, and Dave filled out our bowling team. "Rick, we still gonna have that party at your house when we win the trophy?" Tom wanted to know.

"You bet we are! I'm buying a keg., and Suzy is gonna do a strip tease!" I always joked with the guys. The team ahead of us in the league had a pair of former pro bowlers. We had spent six seasons no closer than a thousand pins from their score. Like the sun comes up, we were destined for second place. Sometimes Suzy would be there to hear this, and joke right along with us. I'm not quite so cocky anymore. The team we always lost to had the company "down-size" it's office here, and overnight, their jobs vanished here, only to re-appear in another town. They moved, and we took over the throne. Ben started teasing me. "You gonna buy the keg? Suzy's still gonna dance for us?"

Suzy chimed in with "You know Rick's word is good, boys. Now I don't want to hear you question his word again, or you can kiss the lap dance of your lives goodbye right now! Do each and every one of you hear me, and understand me, clearly?"

"Yes, ma'am." they all said in unison, grinning from ear to ear.

"Good. Now get out there and show me that I've got a reason to do all those aerobics that keep my body in top shape for you." Suzy taunted.

That night at home, as we snuggled in bed, I said "Suzy, I could have handled those guys. You didn't have to do that. Now we're really in a pickle. Can you imagine what it will be like, in two weeks, when we win the trophy, gaziantep bayan escort and you have to be their stripper?"

"Did you ever think that I didn't have to, but I wanted to? Can you imagine what it will be like, in two weeks, when I start undressing for Ben, Jerry, Tom, Dave, and Rick? Can you imagine how hot their stares on my bare breasts are going to make me? Can you imagine how hot it will make me to show them my wet bush? Can you imagine how hot I will become from having five good looking men get hard as I rub myself all over their bodies in the lewdest, sexiest, lap dance of my entire life? Can you imagine what that level of attention is going to do to your wife's level of desire? Let me show you what I mean." Suzy started right then, without any foreplay, blowing me with a hunger I had never felt from her in our marriage bed. My fingers found her already wet, and I was beginning to like this idea of Suzy entertaining the bowling team very much. She was very persuasive.

The next two weeks, Suzy wore a sexy new outfit each day. She saved her best for Wednesdays. She wore a black sheer blouse, push up half cup bra, wraparound skirt and her best panty hose the first week. The second week, she wore her black leather jacket, black leather bra, spandex miniskirt so tight I was convinced I could count the hairs on her twat when she stood up, thigh high boots, with lace and garters showing.

Every night for the next two weeks it was the same. Suzy would start off telling me how much she wanted to thank me for making the promise that she would dance for them, how much it turned her on to know I still thought she was good looking enough to turn on other men, then she would get so hot she had to

suck me off, or if I was lucky, get to share a hot 69 with her. Then she would get me hard again, and screw my brains out while she told me all the wild and obscene things she was going to do. In the morning, I would eat her in the shower, grab my coffee (and when she reminded me, lunch box) and head off for work. I was beginning not to care what my wife did, and was figuring out excuses for her to do it again in the near future. I'd had more sex in the past two weeks than in the last six months, maybe even a year.

On the way home from work, I picked up the keg. When I got home, Suzy pulled me into the den, where our couches and chairs had all been pushed against one wall. Stacked against the fireplace were four mattresses. "I'm not letting anybody drive home drunk. I'll pull out blankets and tuck them in myself" Better not say THAT in front of Ben, Jerry, Dave or Tom I thought to myself. Suzy changed into a black leather bustier, lacy, no make that see-through black panties, dark hose, five inch heels, her leather jacket, and a black leather cap.

"Aren't you hot?" I asked her, worried about how all that leather held the heat in.

"I sure am!" Pulling me to her, she pressed my hand into her seam, soaking her panties with her fluids just as the doorbell rang.

"Aren't you going to put on a skirt or something?" I had to remind her.

"Oh, my skirt! I completely forgot. Nice of you to remember. I wouldn't want to show them everything all at once. There has to be a tease to it." she said wickedly.

Ben was at the door, back in his comfortable tee-shirt and jeans, his big, bald head barely clearing the doorjamb. Lord, he was tall! Built like a lumberjack, too. Dave had arrived on his heels, his swarthy dark complexion and Italian hot looks popular with the women. For some reason, he just couldn't keep a girlfriend a week. They slid right into the kitchen, and Suzy explained that their car keys had to be locked up, and that they could sleep over. Dave looked at me with a weird expression on his face, but I had to go answer the door again. Jerry was here. He was built like a plumber, he looked like a plumber, and he was... a florist. He brought a dozen red roses for Suzy, and she hopped up and down, then gave him sultry wet kiss that really rattled him. He quickly threw his wind breaker in the corner, as Suzy explained the rules for him. Tom was the last, but with his surfer blonde hair,

and leathery bronze skin, he looked like some of the pilots that I worked for, but his avocation was sailing.

Tom brought a box of chocolates, and a bag of M