Pleasing Chloe part 2
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Pleasing Chloe - Part 1 free porn video
PLEASING CHLOE - Part 1
My friend Dave, a buddy from high school, was having a party. He is very social and being a plumber, had met and made friends with many people throughout the community. I was more private. Aside from his Christmas bashes I usually declined his party invitations. When I finally did show up for his Christmas party, I only knew a few people and left early to escape my social awkwardness.
My name is Peter, I go by Pete. I’m average looking at best. I have a rather sparsely populated mustache and the only time I tried to grow a manly beard it looked more like pubic hair: frizzy, thin and patchy. The best one word description of my build would be, “slight.” I’m not skinny, but not muscular either. On top of that, my penis is barely five inches long and the girth is similarly unimpressive. I have self-esteem issues regarding my looks, and lately, to bolster my self-esteem, I tell myself that at least my girlfriend didn’t leave me for some studly character. She just left.
It was summertime and I lived in a town in Northern California that seemed determined to stay upper end of small. With the surrounding area included, we were a community of about 25,000. Dave, the buddy I mentioned, lived with his wife, Chloe, in the countryside just outside of town. As he knew I had just gone through a rather painful breakup, Dave insisted I stop sulking and come to his party.
Arriving at the party, I walked on in and found Dave standing in the kitchen. I handed him a bottle of Cabernet from the Country Crest Winery in Washington, an award winning vintage of moderate price. He set it aside and pulled me out back to the bar he had set up. “Wine later,” he said, “Let’s get you properly lubricated.” With that he poured me a Vodka 7, strong, but not too strong. “Mingle,” he ordered. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
Guests had thrown blankets on the expansive lawn, well populated with fruitless mulberry trees, famous for their copious amounts of shade. Although the sun was retreating from the day, the appeal of a sheltering canopy is probably hardwired into human DNA. Jazz, blues and rock alternated from the speakers Dave had moved outdoors. I appreciated that the volume didn’t interfere with the ability to chat with people. Dave always seemed to know what he was doing when it came to organizing social events.
There was something mysterious about Dave and Chloe. I was close to Dave, but I guess not close enough to be privy to the whole inside story. I had heard rumors about Chloe having sex with other guys, seriously sleazy sex. I didn’t know if Dave knew about this, and I didn’t feel it was my place to bring it up to him. If he didn’t know I didn’t want to be the one to tell him.
I had done that before; told someone something I thought they needed to know, only to have the guy say, “I know that, but why would you think it’s any of your business?” Since then I had decided to let hidden truth find its own way to the surface. It seems to do that anyway.
Dave and I talked about sex often as it was his favorite topic. He was comfortable discussing how hot and nasty Chloe is, but never mentioned her having sex with other men. He didn’t seem to take issue with her sexy attire, which was often downright slutty. My side of these conversations was always about how Becky, my now ex-girlfriend, wasn’t into anything even mildly kinky.
I told him about the time I pulled out as I was about to cum, ripping off my condom and shooting my slippery juice all over Becky’s stomach and tits. I told him how pissed she was that I would think she might enjoy it. She wouldn’t even let me lick her pussy, I frequently complained that it was pure torture as that was my favorite thing to do. The closest I got to tasting her pussy was sniffing her panties when she wasn’t around. When I would tell Dave about her prudishness, he would look at me with sadness in his eyes, give me that you-poor-bastard look.
I loved Becky dearly, but that love included levels of frustration that were near unbearable. I continued pleading with her to let me lick her and for her to try sucking my cock. My sustained prodding is probably what encouraged her to break it off, not my cock, that is, but the relationship.
I looked about the backyard and noticed a few familiar faces. This was my first backyard party at Dave’s and I now understood the suggestion to bring a blanket. Blankets were strewn about the lawn and people were gathered in twos, threes and mores on the cloth islands. There were about 30 people there altogether. I spotted Steve and Jenny, the only couple I knew well. I had dated Jenny in high school before Steve stole her from me. I strolled over. Jenny patted the blanket and told me to sit down.
“The BBQ is sure smelling good,” I said.
“Yeah,” Steve said, “Dave does a great rib.” He pointed to a table full of platters of ribs and side dishes and told me to fix a plate whenever I wanted.
Jenny looked at my glass and said, “Down that and I’ll freshen our drinks.”
I like to take drinking slow and easy, but I complied. “Vodka 7. Dave knows.”
As she strolled off I commented to Steve how good Jenny was looking, knowing he wouldn’t take offense.
“Yes, she does,” he replied, staring at her ass as she walked off, as if seeing it for the first time. “I’m a lucky man,” he added. “By the way, I’m sorry about Becky. I heard you guys split up. I saw her the other day at Walmart but ducked before she saw me. Not to be insulting, but I always had a weird feeling about her. She always looked like she was pissed about something. I know you were really into her.”
“It’s for the best,” I said. “I love her and miss her, but there were compatibility issues that weren’t going away.” We sat in silence, with both of us probably thinking about how to steer the conversation in a new direction.
Jenny returned with drinks and handed them to us. We chatted, thankfully avoiding the topic of Becky. I finished my drink over the next twenty minutes or so and excused myself to go chat with Dave. I was always angling for an opportunity to be up close with Chloe who was then standing next to him.
Dave was working the bar and smiled as I approached. Chloe, dressed in the shortest denim cutoffs I have ever seen, was standing in front of the makeshift watering station, which was a thick, wide plank across two wine barrels. From the back, half her ass cheeks were hanging out. Without exception, she dressed sexier than any woman I had ever known. She loved wearing mini-skirts of tennis-outfit length around the house and on more than one occasion I was privy to glimpses of her panties. She seemed to be aware. I know Dave had caught me looking at her several times and would only smile when he did.
I was unconsciously looking at her long legs as I approached. She had to have been five foot eight, at least. She had one of those come-fuck-me smiles and her face was exceptionally attractive. Her blond hair was cut in bangs which seemed to make her look even younger than her twenty-four years. Her demeanor was coy at times, and playful at other times. It was as if she was hiding something, but eager for you to find out what it was. Yet, I often experienced a girl-next-door comfort around her, wondering if she had any idea how exceptionally beautiful she was. I forced my eyes back up to meet hers.
“Like what you see,” she asked, smiling.
I blushed, apologizing for my lecherous behavior.
“Don’t fret,” Dave chimed in. "If you’re not admiring Chloe’s legs you’re probably gay or dead.”
I agreed.
“Hey Chloe, will you mind the bar while I talk to Pete?”
“Sure,” she said, and I thought I detected a wink between the two of them.
Dave pointed toward the house, so I knew whatever he wanted to talk about was private. We went into the dining room and sat at the table, both of us feeling the drinks we had consumed thus far. Dave had just poured me my third one, and I’m a lightweight. Dave sat adjacent to me, quite close so we could talk quietly.
Buzzed or not, I was totally unprepared for Dave’s opening question. “Have you heard things about Chloe?”
Was he trying to find out if she cheats on him? Was I being put on the spot, asked to choose between the two of them in a way that would end up with her hating me? I remembered my last experience with divulging information. At least this time I was being asked as opposed to just butting in uninvited.
“What do you mean?” I asked, doing my best to play dumb.
“I mean, have you heard that she fucks and sucks other guys?”
Unfortunately I was taking a drink when he said that, and the surprise caused me to spray Vodka 7 like a fire extinguisher. I’m sure my expression said more than I was willing to confirm. I played it safe.
It took me a moment to regain my composure. Then I said, “I hear lots of rumors about lots of people.” My cracking voice betrayed my desire to be as vague as possible. I was still trying to get over the shock of his extremely explicit inquiry.
“Relax,” he said, “she hasn’t done anything that I’m not aware of, and she isn’t in trouble with me. I encourage her to do anything and everything she wants. So, what have you heard?”
“Do you want the gist of what I heard, or the details?”
“I’m as voyeuristic as they come,” he said. “The details please, and don’t worry. I probably already know them anyway, but hearing them from you will be a total turn on.”
“You really okay with this?” I asked.
“Of course. If I have to spell it out, Chloe is a slut, and to me that is a very complimentary expression. It means that a woman has the guts to buck social convention in favor of living life her way. I’m lucky to have such a lusty wife. It beats someone like Becky.”
The Becky slight seemed designed to get me to open up, to reveal what I had heard about Chloe, and it worked. I was still trying to process the idea that Dave loved being married to a slut. I found nothing evil or even absurd about that, I had just never met a man who was openly approving of his wife being promiscuous, and I agreed it was better than the frustration of a Becky. If anything it was completely titillating. He wants to know and says it won’t bother him, I thought, so let him have it.
“What I heard was from Dan,” I began. Dan was a mutual friend who happened to be at the party that night.
“We were drinking during Monday Night Football. By halftime, I was tipsy and he was getting drunk. He said that Chloe showed up at his apartment one night. Apparently he had heard things about her and when he ran into her at the market he suggested she stop by sometime.”
Dave interrupted. “He did hear things, from me. I told him Chloe wanted to fuck him and that I like it when she gets what she wants.”
“Thanks,” I said. “That makes it easier to finish the story. About a week later she did go see him and he was playing poker with some friends. Dan said she had on one of her typically short dresses. She said she didn’t know how to play but pulled up a chair next to him and watched. Dan said he had been losing all night but finally caught a great hand, full boat, aces over kings. He said everyone apparently had a good hand because the betting was high and nobody was folding. On the last round of betting Dan was out of money, he showed Chloe his hand and told her it was unbeatable.
“‘Can I bet you?’ he asked. Chloe played dumb and asked what he meant. Dan must have strongly suspected she was game for anything, because he boldly told her if he lost she would have to fuck the winner.
“Dan said she leaned over and told him that wouldn’t be a problem, so he asked the guys if he could bet Chloe since he was out of money. Clive, one of the other players, asked if that meant the winner got to fuck her and Chloe said, ‘Yes of course.’ Is this too much detail?” I asked.
“Not at all,” Dave replied, reaching down to adjust his growing cock. I couldn’t help but notice he seemed to enjoy hearing about her slutty behavior.
“Well, as the story goes, Dan lost the hand to Clive who had four threes. Clive immediately stood up and whisked Chloe off to the bedroom, leaving the door open. Dan said they could hear Chloe moaning and cuming as Clive ‘fucked her hard.’ When they came back out Clive grabbed her chair and moved it over next to his. Dan said he asked him what he was up to and Clive said he won her and could now bet her as Dan had.
“Dan said he was about to object when Chloe announced it was only fair. Chloe was now sitting to the left of Clive, a little bit away from the table. Dan said she wasn’t making much of an effort to keep her legs closed and he could see a large wet spot where Clive’s load was leaking out, making a dark blue patch in her light blue panties. He said he couldn’t wait to add to the mess, and he loved the lusty I-just-got-fucked-good smile on her face. He said he could see her squirming a bit in the chair, as if she was aching to get fucked again.
“Dan said that Clive, being the pervert he is, couldn’t wait to lose the next hand. He was dealing and called low ball, keeping a pair of jacks when it came time to draw cards. Aside from the ante, he said Chloe would represent his bets. Of course he lost and it was Devin’s turn to fuck her.
“Over the next couple of hours Chloe became the property of everyone who won a hand. He said each time she was ‘obviously thrilled’ to prance into the bedroom for another fucking. Dan said before the night was over they had all fucked her at least twice. Dan won the last hand before they called it quits. He told her to get on her knees and beg everyone to fuck her mouth.
“He said he went last, and when he was about to cum he took his cock out of her mouth and made her beg for his load, which, he said, she seemed more than happy to do. He said, ‘her pleading was authentic,’ and that everyone was convinced she needed one for the road. He said she left with her pussy stretched and full of cum and her breath stinking of jizz. He said her panties were so saturated that cum was running down her legs. He added that she declined a shower but thanked everyone for fucking her.”
Dave lit a cigarette. His breathing had become heavy as he heard the story. He looked me in the eye and said he couldn’t be more proud of her ability to bring joy to lots of men.
“Now,” Dave said, “would you like to hear the rest of the story?”
My friend Dave, a buddy from high school, was having a party. He is very social and being a plumber, had met and made friends with many people throughout the community. I was more private. Aside from his Christmas bashes I usually declined his party invitations. When I finally did show up for his Christmas party, I only knew a few people and left early to escape my social awkwardness.
My name is Peter, I go by Pete. I’m average looking at best. I have a rather sparsely populated mustache and the only time I tried to grow a manly beard it looked more like pubic hair: frizzy, thin and patchy. The best one word description of my build would be, “slight.” I’m not skinny, but not muscular either. On top of that, my penis is barely five inches long and the girth is similarly unimpressive. I have self-esteem issues regarding my looks, and lately, to bolster my self-esteem, I tell myself that at least my girlfriend didn’t leave me for some studly character. She just left.
It was summertime and I lived in a town in Northern California that seemed determined to stay upper end of small. With the surrounding area included, we were a community of about 25,000. Dave, the buddy I mentioned, lived with his wife, Chloe, in the countryside just outside of town. As he knew I had just gone through a rather painful breakup, Dave insisted I stop sulking and come to his party.
Arriving at the party, I walked on in and found Dave standing in the kitchen. I handed him a bottle of Cabernet from the Country Crest Winery in Washington, an award winning vintage of moderate price. He set it aside and pulled me out back to the bar he had set up. “Wine later,” he said, “Let’s get you properly lubricated.” With that he poured me a Vodka 7, strong, but not too strong. “Mingle,” he ordered. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
Guests had thrown blankets on the expansive lawn, well populated with fruitless mulberry trees, famous for their copious amounts of shade. Although the sun was retreating from the day, the appeal of a sheltering canopy is probably hardwired into human DNA. Jazz, blues and rock alternated from the speakers Dave had moved outdoors. I appreciated that the volume didn’t interfere with the ability to chat with people. Dave always seemed to know what he was doing when it came to organizing social events.
There was something mysterious about Dave and Chloe. I was close to Dave, but I guess not close enough to be privy to the whole inside story. I had heard rumors about Chloe having sex with other guys, seriously sleazy sex. I didn’t know if Dave knew about this, and I didn’t feel it was my place to bring it up to him. If he didn’t know I didn’t want to be the one to tell him.
I had done that before; told someone something I thought they needed to know, only to have the guy say, “I know that, but why would you think it’s any of your business?” Since then I had decided to let hidden truth find its own way to the surface. It seems to do that anyway.
Dave and I talked about sex often as it was his favorite topic. He was comfortable discussing how hot and nasty Chloe is, but never mentioned her having sex with other men. He didn’t seem to take issue with her sexy attire, which was often downright slutty. My side of these conversations was always about how Becky, my now ex-girlfriend, wasn’t into anything even mildly kinky.
I told him about the time I pulled out as I was about to cum, ripping off my condom and shooting my slippery juice all over Becky’s stomach and tits. I told him how pissed she was that I would think she might enjoy it. She wouldn’t even let me lick her pussy, I frequently complained that it was pure torture as that was my favorite thing to do. The closest I got to tasting her pussy was sniffing her panties when she wasn’t around. When I would tell Dave about her prudishness, he would look at me with sadness in his eyes, give me that you-poor-bastard look.
I loved Becky dearly, but that love included levels of frustration that were near unbearable. I continued pleading with her to let me lick her and for her to try sucking my cock. My sustained prodding is probably what encouraged her to break it off, not my cock, that is, but the relationship.
I looked about the backyard and noticed a few familiar faces. This was my first backyard party at Dave’s and I now understood the suggestion to bring a blanket. Blankets were strewn about the lawn and people were gathered in twos, threes and mores on the cloth islands. There were about 30 people there altogether. I spotted Steve and Jenny, the only couple I knew well. I had dated Jenny in high school before Steve stole her from me. I strolled over. Jenny patted the blanket and told me to sit down.
“The BBQ is sure smelling good,” I said.
“Yeah,” Steve said, “Dave does a great rib.” He pointed to a table full of platters of ribs and side dishes and told me to fix a plate whenever I wanted.
Jenny looked at my glass and said, “Down that and I’ll freshen our drinks.”
I like to take drinking slow and easy, but I complied. “Vodka 7. Dave knows.”
As she strolled off I commented to Steve how good Jenny was looking, knowing he wouldn’t take offense.
“Yes, she does,” he replied, staring at her ass as she walked off, as if seeing it for the first time. “I’m a lucky man,” he added. “By the way, I’m sorry about Becky. I heard you guys split up. I saw her the other day at Walmart but ducked before she saw me. Not to be insulting, but I always had a weird feeling about her. She always looked like she was pissed about something. I know you were really into her.”
“It’s for the best,” I said. “I love her and miss her, but there were compatibility issues that weren’t going away.” We sat in silence, with both of us probably thinking about how to steer the conversation in a new direction.
Jenny returned with drinks and handed them to us. We chatted, thankfully avoiding the topic of Becky. I finished my drink over the next twenty minutes or so and excused myself to go chat with Dave. I was always angling for an opportunity to be up close with Chloe who was then standing next to him.
Dave was working the bar and smiled as I approached. Chloe, dressed in the shortest denim cutoffs I have ever seen, was standing in front of the makeshift watering station, which was a thick, wide plank across two wine barrels. From the back, half her ass cheeks were hanging out. Without exception, she dressed sexier than any woman I had ever known. She loved wearing mini-skirts of tennis-outfit length around the house and on more than one occasion I was privy to glimpses of her panties. She seemed to be aware. I know Dave had caught me looking at her several times and would only smile when he did.
I was unconsciously looking at her long legs as I approached. She had to have been five foot eight, at least. She had one of those come-fuck-me smiles and her face was exceptionally attractive. Her blond hair was cut in bangs which seemed to make her look even younger than her twenty-four years. Her demeanor was coy at times, and playful at other times. It was as if she was hiding something, but eager for you to find out what it was. Yet, I often experienced a girl-next-door comfort around her, wondering if she had any idea how exceptionally beautiful she was. I forced my eyes back up to meet hers.
“Like what you see,” she asked, smiling.
I blushed, apologizing for my lecherous behavior.
“Don’t fret,” Dave chimed in. "If you’re not admiring Chloe’s legs you’re probably gay or dead.”
I agreed.
“Hey Chloe, will you mind the bar while I talk to Pete?”
“Sure,” she said, and I thought I detected a wink between the two of them.
Dave pointed toward the house, so I knew whatever he wanted to talk about was private. We went into the dining room and sat at the table, both of us feeling the drinks we had consumed thus far. Dave had just poured me my third one, and I’m a lightweight. Dave sat adjacent to me, quite close so we could talk quietly.
Buzzed or not, I was totally unprepared for Dave’s opening question. “Have you heard things about Chloe?”
Was he trying to find out if she cheats on him? Was I being put on the spot, asked to choose between the two of them in a way that would end up with her hating me? I remembered my last experience with divulging information. At least this time I was being asked as opposed to just butting in uninvited.
“What do you mean?” I asked, doing my best to play dumb.
“I mean, have you heard that she fucks and sucks other guys?”
Unfortunately I was taking a drink when he said that, and the surprise caused me to spray Vodka 7 like a fire extinguisher. I’m sure my expression said more than I was willing to confirm. I played it safe.
It took me a moment to regain my composure. Then I said, “I hear lots of rumors about lots of people.” My cracking voice betrayed my desire to be as vague as possible. I was still trying to get over the shock of his extremely explicit inquiry.
“Relax,” he said, “she hasn’t done anything that I’m not aware of, and she isn’t in trouble with me. I encourage her to do anything and everything she wants. So, what have you heard?”
“Do you want the gist of what I heard, or the details?”
“I’m as voyeuristic as they come,” he said. “The details please, and don’t worry. I probably already know them anyway, but hearing them from you will be a total turn on.”
“You really okay with this?” I asked.
“Of course. If I have to spell it out, Chloe is a slut, and to me that is a very complimentary expression. It means that a woman has the guts to buck social convention in favor of living life her way. I’m lucky to have such a lusty wife. It beats someone like Becky.”
The Becky slight seemed designed to get me to open up, to reveal what I had heard about Chloe, and it worked. I was still trying to process the idea that Dave loved being married to a slut. I found nothing evil or even absurd about that, I had just never met a man who was openly approving of his wife being promiscuous, and I agreed it was better than the frustration of a Becky. If anything it was completely titillating. He wants to know and says it won’t bother him, I thought, so let him have it.
“What I heard was from Dan,” I began. Dan was a mutual friend who happened to be at the party that night.
“We were drinking during Monday Night Football. By halftime, I was tipsy and he was getting drunk. He said that Chloe showed up at his apartment one night. Apparently he had heard things about her and when he ran into her at the market he suggested she stop by sometime.”
Dave interrupted. “He did hear things, from me. I told him Chloe wanted to fuck him and that I like it when she gets what she wants.”
“Thanks,” I said. “That makes it easier to finish the story. About a week later she did go see him and he was playing poker with some friends. Dan said she had on one of her typically short dresses. She said she didn’t know how to play but pulled up a chair next to him and watched. Dan said he had been losing all night but finally caught a great hand, full boat, aces over kings. He said everyone apparently had a good hand because the betting was high and nobody was folding. On the last round of betting Dan was out of money, he showed Chloe his hand and told her it was unbeatable.
“‘Can I bet you?’ he asked. Chloe played dumb and asked what he meant. Dan must have strongly suspected she was game for anything, because he boldly told her if he lost she would have to fuck the winner.
“Dan said she leaned over and told him that wouldn’t be a problem, so he asked the guys if he could bet Chloe since he was out of money. Clive, one of the other players, asked if that meant the winner got to fuck her and Chloe said, ‘Yes of course.’ Is this too much detail?” I asked.
“Not at all,” Dave replied, reaching down to adjust his growing cock. I couldn’t help but notice he seemed to enjoy hearing about her slutty behavior.
“Well, as the story goes, Dan lost the hand to Clive who had four threes. Clive immediately stood up and whisked Chloe off to the bedroom, leaving the door open. Dan said they could hear Chloe moaning and cuming as Clive ‘fucked her hard.’ When they came back out Clive grabbed her chair and moved it over next to his. Dan said he asked him what he was up to and Clive said he won her and could now bet her as Dan had.
“Dan said he was about to object when Chloe announced it was only fair. Chloe was now sitting to the left of Clive, a little bit away from the table. Dan said she wasn’t making much of an effort to keep her legs closed and he could see a large wet spot where Clive’s load was leaking out, making a dark blue patch in her light blue panties. He said he couldn’t wait to add to the mess, and he loved the lusty I-just-got-fucked-good smile on her face. He said he could see her squirming a bit in the chair, as if she was aching to get fucked again.
“Dan said that Clive, being the pervert he is, couldn’t wait to lose the next hand. He was dealing and called low ball, keeping a pair of jacks when it came time to draw cards. Aside from the ante, he said Chloe would represent his bets. Of course he lost and it was Devin’s turn to fuck her.
“Over the next couple of hours Chloe became the property of everyone who won a hand. He said each time she was ‘obviously thrilled’ to prance into the bedroom for another fucking. Dan said before the night was over they had all fucked her at least twice. Dan won the last hand before they called it quits. He told her to get on her knees and beg everyone to fuck her mouth.
“He said he went last, and when he was about to cum he took his cock out of her mouth and made her beg for his load, which, he said, she seemed more than happy to do. He said, ‘her pleading was authentic,’ and that everyone was convinced she needed one for the road. He said she left with her pussy stretched and full of cum and her breath stinking of jizz. He said her panties were so saturated that cum was running down her legs. He added that she declined a shower but thanked everyone for fucking her.”
Dave lit a cigarette. His breathing had become heavy as he heard the story. He looked me in the eye and said he couldn’t be more proud of her ability to bring joy to lots of men.
“Now,” Dave said, “would you like to hear the rest of the story?”
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