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girls who love being gangbanged;)

My wife and I attended a sex party where there were three other couples. At first, it was just swinging/swapping partners but as the evening progressed we all got hornier and the women enjoyed being fucked by multiple partners. My wife was fucked by the other three guys at the same time which included some DP action and she had some of the best orgasms in her life but said she was quite sore the next day or two.
 
It'd be my fantasy to see my wife really get into being gangbanged. Not sure she the type however. I could see her getting into a MFM however. We've fantasized about it a bit. Would love to see her spit roasted or DP'd. I'd love to take her to a swingers club and voyeur out, watching other. Maybe someday.
 
Rockwell12 said:
It'd be my fantasy to see my wife really get into being gangbanged. Not sure she the type however. I could see her getting into a MFM however. We've fantasized about it a bit. Would love to see her spit roasted or DP'd. I'd love to take her to a swingers club and voyeur out, watching other. Maybe someday.
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We all change as we get older and as we explore our sexuality our inhibitions tend to fade. I never thought we would invite others to fuck my wife but things can change. She enjoys the opportunity to experience other guys as they have all fucked differently and seeing her enjoying being fucked by one or more guys is so incredibly arousing that I nearly always have sloppy seconds.
 
 
 
anthilly said:
Ive always been curious as to how it feels for an woman. Anyone care to explain?
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It is a HUGE rush to have several men focusing entirely on me. I love being the center of attention. It makes me feel more sexy and more feminine than anything else. It's like I can "feel" the lust sweeping over me and it triggers every bit of arousal in me. Plus, the longer thrusting goes on, the more I cum, and more men means more thrusting.
 
CharityLynn said:
No preference. I love both. Guys I know feel "safer" but part of the rush is not knowing the guys and them just lusting to use my body. But either works for me.
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Lovely. The ex liked strangers for the same reason usualy with some sort of kink about it big age gap or rougher, she was quite petite and posh. She also got a rush being blindfolded not knowing who was enjoying her, her dom kept her normal life and fun life seperate, so there was no problems, apart from a couple of times when selected guys who knew her were invited. All consensual for every one.
 
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steptoe2001 said:
Lovely. The ex liked strangers for the same reason usualy with some sort of kink about it big age gap or rougher, she was quite petite and posh. She also got a rush being blindfolded not knowing who was enjoying her, her dom kept her normal life and fun life seperate, so there was no problems, apart from a couple of times when selected guys who knew her were invited. All consensual for every one.
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I like it all, but there is something about being with men quite a bit older than me. it's a big turn on for me. I am rarely blindfolded, but I have experienced a couple of gangbangs where I was blindfolded throughout. That was exciting.
 
Once and loved it.

Does having been gang banged once and loved it count?

It happened at an impromptu dinner with four mountain climbers on their way home after a once-in-a-lifetime climb in Chile. We met them at our gym while having smoothies at the club's refreshment bar. Curious about them because they laughed a lot and celebrating something they had done together, we asked where they were from and why they were so happy. In the way young men make light of life-or-death moments adventures, they soon had us rolling with laughter. Although I was slightly jealous of how they's so easily managed to light up my wife's eyes, but relieved and delighted to see her as I'd known her in the first year of our dating and then marriage, I spontaneously asked her if it would be all right to invite them for dinner that evening.

They came with flowers and bottles of wine and beer, and were visibly blown away by how spectacular my wife looked. Shy at first, the wine, her dress and the wonderful meal she was so proud of, emboldened them to a flood of compliments. Showered with compliments, my wife's flashed, her arms, ears, shoulders, arms and the high tops of her breasts glowed with obvious pleasure.

My wife looked as if she were 16 again. And she looked good enough to eat. Our good-natured guests' eyes had suddenly grown serious, as if for the first time seeing a sunrise in the wild.

I suggested a Jacuzzi. Ours is on the chalet's deck, half under the roof's overhang, half beneath the sky. One of the boys, looking embarrassed, but laughed, and then mentioned the obvious -- that he didn't happen to have a swimsuit with him. In my wife's eyes I saw barely contained mischief, but she looked to me for a comment. I said truthfully that we never wore suits. For a fleeting moment I saw thoughtfulness on their faces. But then we were leading them to the changing room just off the porch. Soon we were all in the water. The boys eased in, then looked up to watch my wife, who arrived last.

Her eyes were downcast. A faint smile warmed her mouth. Self conscious, she pulled the towel from her body. All shivering girl, she quickly stepped down into the surface mist, tested the water with her toes, then plunged, laughing. A happy smile rose to her eyes. We were all quite. To allow the boys to appreciate my wife without feeling awkward, I looked up into the summer sky. Talk, in contrast to the free-flowing gaiety at dinner, settled. I put my arm around my wife and turned her face up to kiss her. Where I'm sure she would have been self conscious under the eyes of others, she eagerly opened her mouth to me. The wine, easy-going company and the rush of rediscovered freedom made her compliant in my arms. I cupped a breast, lifting it from the water. I began to caress it. Lifting it higher, I held its full weight from underneath. Her nipple was in plain view above my hand and the water.

Pulling back, I lifted her out of the water to her waist and settled her sideways on my lap. From the corner of my eye I was aware the boys were all watching. Whispering beneath her hair and into her ear, all the while caressing her and knowing she felt me against her bottom. Close to her ear, I asked if she would like a "many fingered" massage. She lifted her chin to kiss me. Her mouth opened for me, but she wouldn't lead. I felt her wait for reassurance. For positive approval, before exposing her want.

At first the boys were tentative, then they explored. When a boy found that the water made penetration awkward, he laughed and my wife joined him. Guessing the problem, I suggested we dry off and go to the spacious bed in our master bedroom.

They spent the night. There was no moment when my wife wasn't empty -- even as she caught a few exhausted minutes of sleep. They were, somehow, respectful, although at times so carried away in their convulsions that they did leave bruises. In the morning, at my whispered suggestion, she shyly kissed and thanked each one at the door. They appeared both grateful and either thoughtful or mildly surprised. One of the boys hugged her. He then affectionately, kissed the top of her head, lingering there for a moment.

We've pillow talked about that night many times. She loved it, but doesn't think it could ever happen again: that combination of the right men and the right moment (she was and just enough drunk with wine and at that moment under the spell of the undeniably receptive flood of oxytocin that comes with ovulation).
 
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MilkFountain said:
Does having been gang banged once and loved it count?

It happened at an impromptu dinner with four mountain climbers on their way home after a once-in-a-lifetime climb in Chile. We met them at our gym while having smoothies at the club's refreshment bar. Curious about them because they laughed a lot and celebrating something they had done together, we asked where they were from and why they were so happy. In the way young men make light of life-or-death moments adventures, they soon had us rolling with laughter. Although I was slightly jealous of how they's so easily managed to light up my wife's eyes, but relieved and delighted to see her as I'd known her in the first year of our dating and then marriage, I spontaneously asked her if it would be all right to invite them for dinner that evening.

They came with flowers and bottles of wine and beer, and were visibly blown away by how spectacular my wife looked. Shy at first, the wine, her dress and the wonderful meal she was so proud of, emboldened them to a flood of compliments. Showered with compliments, my wife's flashed, her arms, ears, shoulders, arms and the high tops of her breasts glowed with obvious pleasure.

My wife looked as if she were 16 again. And she looked good enough to eat. Our good-natured guests' eyes had suddenly grown serious, as if for the first time seeing a sunrise in the wild.

I suggested a Jacuzzi. Ours is on the chalet's deck, half under the roof's overhang, half beneath the sky. One of the boys, looking embarrassed, but laughingly mentioned the obvious -- that he didn't happen to have a swimsuit with him. Primed from an evening of infectious merriment, we all nervously laughed. In my wife's eyes I saw barely contained mischief. Making light of it, I said, truthfully, that we never wore suits. For a fleeting moment I saw thoughtfulness on their faces. But then we were leading them to the changing room just off the porch. Soon we were all in the water. The boys eased in, then looked up to watch my wife, who arrived last.

Her eyes were demurely downcast. Self conscious, she pulled the towel from her body, and then quickly stepped down into the surface mist. A happy smile rose on her face as she dunked herself to her neck. Then we were all quite, in turn looking up into the summer sky. Our talk, in contrast to the boisterous gaiety at dinner, turned quiet. I put my arm around my wife and turned her face up to kiss her. Where I'm sure she would have been self conscious under the eyes of others, she eagerly opened her mouth to me, the wine, easy-going company and the rush of newly rediscovered ease of freedom releasing her.I cupped a breast, lifting it from the water. As we kissed, I began to caress it, lifting it higher, sure in instinct when held its full weight from underneath, so that her nipple was in plain view.

Pulling back, I lifted her out of the water to her waist and settled her sideways on my lap. From the corner of my eye I was aware the boys were all watching. Whispering beneath her hair and into her ear, all the while caressing her and knowing she felt me against her bottom, I asked if she would like a "many fingered" massage. As if asking, she lifted her chin to kiss me, mouth still, letting me explore with my tongue.

At first the boys were tentative, then they explored. When a boy found that the water made penetration awkward, he laughed and my wife joined him. Guessing the problem, I suggested we dry off and go to the spacious bed in our master bedroom.

They spent the night. There was no moment when my wife wasn't empty -- even as she caught a few exhausted minutes of sleep. They were, somehow, respectful, although at times so carried away in their convulsions that they did leave bruises. In the morning, at my whispered suggestion, she shyly kissed and thanked each one at the door. They appeared both grateful and either thoughtful or mildly surprised. One of the boys hugged her. He then affectionately, kissed the top of her head, lingering there for a moment.

We've pillow talked about that night many times. She loved it, but doesn't think it could ever happen again: that combination of the right men and the right moment (she was and just enough drunk with wine and at that moment under the spell of the undeniably receptive flood of oxytocin that comes with ovulation).
Click to expand...


Wow....... Just.... WOW!
 
I'd be beyond pissed off if the guys I was fucking didn't bother to attempt to make me cum, because if they aren't actually trying, i probably won't get there. Fuck that!
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That’s kind of the point for me, being used for other peoples’ pleasure in a situation where what I want and feel doesn’t matter, where I never know names or see faces, no one knows me and all I am is a set of holes to cum in.
 
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