Dear Mr. X,
Bastard! I really didn’t think I could pull this experiment off, and I almost fainted trying. You’re not going easy on me, are you, mister? Ha! I half-wondered whether when the delivery man showed up, it would be you in disguise. Not that this would have been any easier.
Everything started smoothly. When I got home from work I told my husband that I felt like Chinese, which is nothing unusual, and then I called in our order (to a place we almost never use) and hopped into the shower.
God I was horny! What made me horniest was thinking of your e-mail, just like you said. I was hardly thinking of my husband or the mysterious delivery man, and that worries me a bit (bastard!). Anyway, I soaped myself, touching myself in places I don’t always touch, fingering my anus and down between my legs to my pussy, getting all slick and groany with the thought of having two cocks at my disposal, one for each spot. Anal sex is a big turn-on of mine, but I don’t like it that often. In the shower, though, waiting on that Chinese, I would have welcomed men of many nations all over me, all in me! Anyway, the bathroom was like a steam bath by the time I got out, and my nipples were so hard thinking about all the possibilities for my body (realizing those possibilities, really), that I was practically ready to hump the sink. At this point I didn’t give a fuck about your “dare”. I just wanted to have one orgasm after another. I didn’t care how I got them. So here you’ll get more secrets about me than it’s probably wise to give, but in the medicine closet I keep a few sex toys for special occasions, and as I was fingering myself all this time I reached for the Chinese balls (you know those plastic strands of ping-pong shaped balls with metal bobbles inside? – it was becoming a thematic evening!), and one by one I slid them into me like some loony demented masturbator.
More secrets now, against my better judgment: do you know how exhilarating an electric toothbrush can be when applied to a woman’s clitoris? That’s a favorite little technique of mine, and so with these Chinese balls inside of me I was just brushing my teeth, letting that little machine do its magic as I let my fingers slide in and out of my pussy, feeling the tip of those hard little balls, wanting even more inside of me, coming dangerously close to a screaming orgasm as I waited half-consciously (non-consciously?) for a Chinese knock at the door. Were my nipples hard as you instructed? Jesus, do you have to ask?
Then I panicked. My husband was going to end up answering the door, and I wasn’t going to be able to fulfill your dare by answering it myself dressed in next to nothing, so I cracked the bathroom door and called out for my husband to set the table, just as you suggested. Then I forced myself to remove my fingers from my sweet little pussy and attempted to turn my thoughts to the robe I had prepared. I ordered it over the internet, and it was always too small for me, but it has shrunk over the years with every washing, and now I only wear it occasionally in the summertime, just when I’m getting out of the shower or covering up at the pool. Really it’s hardly a robe! Even belted tight the material won’t come together until just above my stomach (if I had bigger tits the old thing wouldn’t cover anything at all), and it’s so short that when I turned to look at my ass in the mirror I had to laugh a bit (and blush). I pulled it down as best I could, but even then you could just see the place where my legs meet my rear.
Honestly at this point I was more nervous than excited. The effects of my horny shower/Chinese balls (still firmly in place and jangling)/toothbrush were wearing off. I felt completely exposed. But I didn’t want to screw this up. I figured that being awkward and half-naked with my husband and a delivery man could turn out a lot worse than being confident and half-naked, so I tied the belt a little looser than I usually might and resolved to meet the challenge.
Then I heard the knock. I was a mess. I flung open the bathroom door and cried to my husband that I’d get it. He was still in the dining room dutifully setting the table. I took one last glance at myself in the mirror, felt a flare in my crotch, and ran for the door. If my tits weren’t hanging out by the time I got there, everything else was. Basically I was naked, and I could feel the cool air on my ass and knew that this little delicacy of mine was at least partially exposed. So Chinese? Who could ever have an appetite for spring rolls in a situation like this? Luckily (I thought at the time), my husband was concentrating on getting the cutlery in the right places and didn’t notice anything (at the time). So I flung open the front door like some kind of sex-crazed madwoman (honestly, I’m not usually like this).
The delivery man was just a boy, nineteen or twenty, skinny and awkward with a scraggly little beard, but he had a nice, innocent smile and a face I wouldn’t have minded kissing. He was getting the view of his life, that’s for sure. I didn’t have the nerve to look at his cock just then, but I knew he was just wanting me. My nipples were just a movement away from being exposed, and what I felt in that moment was…power! So he had the paper bags, and I had the money (and the tits!), but the money was over on the little table we have in the entryway (just as you had instructed), and so I pointed a naughty little finger at him and said Wait here, then turned, honestly nervous as hell, and let him contemplate at least half of my delicious (cock-starved?) ass as I walked over to the table. Fuck, I didn’t care what happened. I wanted to be raped! I sneaked a glance at my husband, and he had this sort of curious smile on his face, and then with this very interested smile still on his face he said something like: Do you hear that? Sounds like plastic clicking, metal rattling? Of course I knew he was talking about those Chinese balls, and he knew I knew too. Well fuck him! Believe me, I did some serious bending over that purse of mine. I felt like a complete cliché (bastard!), but the thought of my husband and a stranger staring at my ass, which was almost completely bare by now, excited me tremendously.
My husband kept smiling in this subtle way as I found the money and walked back across the room in my bare feet to this deliciously trembling boy. Either one of them would have fucked me in that instant, I knew. The kid was practically paralyzed as I handed over the cash. I held it close to my body for a moment so he would be forced to see my chest, my rock hard nipples through that old ridiculous robe. But then I thought of you again (bastard!), and I thought: what happens next was the dare, and I’m not going to let Mr. X win this one. So I handed over the money, extending my wrist, using all my feminine charms (you’re all such suckers, aren’t you?) , and said with my husband watching, practically grinning now: there’s your tip in there, but tell me this, delivery man – if there’s anything else you could ask for right now in this moment, what would it be? Nothing, thank you ma’am, he said, staring not at my face but at my hard nipples. Well maybe you’d like to see these, I said, and then I spread my robe so that my breasts were revealed. Ha! He looked at me as if he’d never seen anything more beautiful, and then I shut the door. Ha!
When I turned to my husband he was feeling his hard cock through his pants. I left my tits out and with a smug little grin on my face I walked over to the table. What’s that clicking? he said, still feeling his cock. We ordered Chinese, I said, unfastening the belt of the robe. Then I want my fortune cookie, he said, grabbing my arms in his and forcing me up onto to the dining room table. My robe was off me in a flash, and his hand was between my legs, extracting the Chinese balls one by one as I moaned with pleasure.
I wanted to fuck him, and you would have liked that, wouldn’t you, I said in my heat. But he didn’t answer. His face was already buried in my pussy, licking me with a hunger I haven’t seen in forever. I wanted his tongue all over me. I wanted to call for more Chinese.
In the end I got my orgasm and more, and the moral of the story? There’s nothing worse than cold Chinese.
Need to catch up? Read the Sex Experiment from the beginning: Table of Contents