Dear NudeTownUSA,
I am a white man in my mid-40s, 6’3″ and about 215 pounds. I am in good shape; I don’t smoke or drink, but I have what you would call a rather healthy libido. I work as a software developer, but I also moonlight as a private chef creating bespoke white-tablecloth dinners for the wealthy. The reason I am writing to you is that I have to get this off my chest, and I don’t know where else to turn.
The last dinner party I did was quite the exuberant affair. It was a dinner party for about 15 wealthy couples with some very attractive ladies in attendance. Filet mignon, lobster, and all the delectable accompaniments that you could imagine were served, and boy, was the wine flowing! Mostly, the party was civil, except for one guest—let’s call him Mr. House. Mr. House was your typical wealthy asshole. He arrived in a bad mood, treating the waitstaff like shit and ignoring his incredibly attractive wife. To be honest, he wasn’t much to look at: graying hair, slight build, and one of the most forgettable faces ever. His wife, on the other hand, was stunning: dark brown hair, big doe eyes, and a great pair of tits. For a mature woman, she was quite the looker.
As Mr. House was being such a jerk to the waitstaff, I decided to serve the remaining courses to him myself. As I brought out his filet mignon, I could tell the wine had an effect on him. I placed the plate in front of him; he looked at me and said, “Ahh, you are the shit chef who has been cooking this shit meal.” His wife, horrified, said, “Be quiet! You’ve had too much wine as usual, and you are making an ass of yourself.” Mrs. House then looked at me with a coy smile and said, “It is a lovely dinner, and the food is excellent. In fact, this steak might be the best ever,” as she seductively took a bite, chewing slowly and enjoying every ounce of flavor while giving me a look that made me think she wanted to do the same to me. Playfully, she said, “I can’t wait to see what we are having for dessert.” I quickly brushed the thought away as silly and collected my wits. “Mr. House, I am very sorry the food isn’t up to your standards, but we are working very hard. Take solace in the fact that your lovely wife is enjoying it.” In my mind, I was thinking, “Fuck this rich dickhead. Some people are just ungrateful.”
Mr. House replied, “What does my wife know about fine dining?” as he sloshed more wine into his mouth, becoming visibly more fucked up as time went on. Mrs. House looked at her husband and sighed. “I’m sorry, Chef; he gets like this when binging on wine. Please understand this food is delicious,” and she gave me a wink and wet her lips. “I am thoroughly enjoying it.”
As I walked back to the kitchen, I thought to myself, “Was there something there? A bit of flirting? She is a gorgeous woman, and I wouldn’t mind getting in her panties, especially with those big tits.”
Dinner continued rather uneventfully, although Mr. House continued to be a rude jerk. By the end of the dinner, the waitstaff could barely understand what this feeble old man was saying. As my crew and I were cleaning and packing up, I stepped into the backyard for a quick break and to get a bit of fresh air. As I was walking to the back of the garage for a bit of privacy, I saw Mrs. House exit the house and head toward the garage as she pulled out a cigarette. She saw me and lit up. “I am so sorry for how my husband treated you and your staff. It was truly uncalled for.” She took a drag off her cigarette. “He has aged rather poorly and, um, to say it directly, his poor behavior is an extension of his inability to please me anymore.” She took another drag as she looked me up and down. “But you, however,” she said as she moved closer to me, “seem to be just the type of man I am looking for.” She moved closer still until I took a chance and said, “Fuck it.” I grabbed her waist and pulled her close to me, feeling the small of her back and moving down to her firm ass. “And what kind of man is that?” I asked, smelling her expensive perfume and feeling my cock growing as I pressed up against her thigh. “I think you know what kind of man.” She then began to kiss me—slowly, sensually, excitedly—with our tongues intertwining while her hand rubbed my stiff cock. “I need a man with a strong, hard cock, unlike my husband.” Then she moved to her knees, unbuttoned my pants, and pulled out my stiff, erect cock. She looked at it, stared at it, and said, “My, what a lovely, hard cock you have. May I kiss it?” I nodded yes, thinking, “What is going on here? How did this happen so suddenly?” She then proceeded to blow me, gargling my cock in her mouth and grabbing and fondling my balls. She spit on my dick and moaned ever so slightly, savoring every taste, just like she was eating the steak.
Mrs. House sensed I was getting close to cumming and stopped, looking up at me. “Now, I need you to do something for me.” She stood and unbuttoned her blouse, revealing those big, beautiful tits and large, suckable nipples. I readily began to suck on her titties, running my tongue over her nipples and gently caressing one breast with my hand while I sucked on the other with my mouth. They felt great, and she was definitely enjoying herself, with subtle moans and words of encouragement. But then she stopped me. “I don’t have much time.” She hiked up her dress, moved her panties to the side, and bent over. She then grabbed my cock and slowly guided it into her pussy. As I slid my cock into her pussy, it felt so warm and wet as I slowly began to fuck her, her pussy getting wetter and softer with each stroke. I thought to myself, “This feels so good.” Mrs. House told me, “Faster, harder,” as she moaned, “Yes, yes, yes!” I felt myself getting close and just let myself go, exploding inside her pussy and filling it up with cum. I pulled out, and she turned to me and touched my face. “Thanks, Chef; that was the best part of dinner, you cumming inside my pussy. I haven’t felt that in years with my limp-dick husband.” Packing my dick away I smiled, “That was unexpected and I enjoyed it as much but I think we need to get back inside before someone notices.” Nodding her head and laughing she agreed, “But let me give you something,” and slipped off her panties and handed them to me–they were very damp. “Just a keepsake to remember this encounter, and who knows, maybe we will do it again sometime.” I nodded and agreed, “I would definitely be open to that!”
We then walked back inside; no one noticed we were missing and we went our separate ways. As I was walking out into the dining room, Mrs. House caught my eye as I watched her kiss her husband on the lips… the very same lips she had, only moments earlier, placed on my cock. “Come on, sweetie; the party is over, and it’s time to go home.”
I must say that this was one of the craziest dinner parties I have ever put on, but this is not the first time a mature lady has seduced me… maybe I’ll write some more of these stories for NudeTownUSA!
The Nudetown Bull