It was the summer of 1930, and the air in County Wicklow carried the scent of fresh-cut grass and wild roses. I had brought my young wife Siobhan to the annual Midsummer Ball at the exclusive Glenmore Country Club, an enclave for the richest Anglo-Irish families and a few ambitious locals like myself.
Siobhan was twenty-four, a raw ginger beauty with a wild mane of fiery red hair that fell in thick curls down her back. Her skin was porcelain pale, dusted with freckles across her nose and shoulders. She had piercing emerald eyes and a voluptuous figure — full, heavy breasts, a narrow waist, and wide hips that swayed when she walked. In her emerald green silk gown that hugged every curve, she looked like a Celtic goddess.
The evening started respectably enough. Champagne flowed. A live orchestra played. Old-money gentlemen in tuxedos glanced at my wife with poorly disguised hunger.
After several glasses of champagne, the host, Lord Harrington, announced a game.
“Musical Chairs, gentlemen — but with a modern twist for our more adventurous guests.”
The rules were simple at first: when the music stopped, the men would claim the nearest lady and she would sit upon their lap for the next round. Harmless fun, they said.
Siobhan laughed, her cheeks already flushed from drink. “It sounds innocent enough, doesn’t it, darling?” she whispered to me.
I nodded, though something stirred in my gut.
Round One
The first few rounds were light. Ladies sat on laps, giggling as strong hands rested politely on their waists. But the men grew bolder. When the music stopped on the fourth round, Siobhan landed on the lap of Sir Reginald Blackwood, a tall, silver-haired man of fifty with a reputation for taking what he wanted.
His large hand settled high on her thigh, fingers brushing under the silk of her dress. Siobhan squirmed but said nothing.
I watched from across the room, my cock already hardening.
Round Two – Clothing Begins to Loosen
By the sixth round the game had changed. The host declared that each time the music stopped, the lady had to remove one item of clothing before sitting.
Siobhan’s gown came off first. She stood in just her cream corset, stockings, and heels. Her magnificent pale breasts spilled over the top of the corset, freckles dancing across her chest.
She was claimed again by Blackwood. This time he pulled her down firmly onto his lap. I could see his hand disappear under her petticoat. Siobhan bit her lip, her breathing quickening.
Round Three – The Real Game Begins
The final rule was announced: when the music stopped, the lady would not only sit on a man’s lap — she would take him inside her, in whatever position he desired. The game would continue until every man had his turn with the chosen ladies.
Siobhan’s eyes met mine across the room. There was shock… but also something darker. Excitement.
The music played. When it stopped, she was pulled toward Blackwood again.
He stood, turned her around, and bent her over the back of an ornate chair. In full view of twenty guests, he lifted her petticoat, freed his thick cock, and pushed into my wife’s tight pussy in one smooth thrust.
Siobhan gasped loudly. “Oh God…”
Blackwood fucked her in the classic “Dog” position, gripping her wide hips as he drove deep. Her heavy breasts swung with each thrust. The sound of his hips slapping against her pale ass filled the room.
I stood frozen, painfully hard, watching my beautiful ginger wife get fucked by another man.
The Kama Sutra Rounds
The game became a spectacle. Each new pairing required a different Kama Sutra position.
Lord Harrington claimed her next. He had her in the “Lotus” position — sitting face-to-face on his lap in the middle of the floor, her legs wrapped around him as she rode his cock. Siobhan’s head was thrown back, her long red hair cascading down her back while she moaned shamelessly.
“You’re so deep,” she whimpered.
Next came young Viscount Moore. He took her in “The Wheelbarrow” — holding her legs up while fucking her standing. Her freckled breasts bounced wildly as he pounded her.
I watched every thrust. Every moan. Every time a new man filled her.
Colonel Fitzwilliam, a stout military man, wanted “The Bridge.” He laid her on a table, her back arched, hips raised high as he drove into her from above. Siobhan’s pussy was visibly dripping, a mixture of her juices and the previous men’s seed.
By the eighth man, she was a glorious, ruined mess. Her red hair stuck to her sweaty face. Cum leaked down her pale thighs. Yet she kept begging for more.
“Harder,” she cried as the ninth man took her in “The Plow” position — her legs over his shoulders as he folded her in half and slammed into her soaked cunt.
The Final Round
The last man was Lord Harrington again. He wanted something special.
He laid Siobhan on a large velvet chaise in the center of the room and took her in the famous “Kama Sutra Mare” position — her on her back with one leg raised high as he fucked her with slow, powerful strokes.
“Look at your husband,” he commanded.
Siobhan turned her head and locked eyes with me while another man’s cock stretched her.
“Do you like watching me like this?” she asked breathlessly.
“Yes,” I answered hoarsely.
She smiled wickedly, her fiery ginger spirit fully unleashed.
Harrington fucked her until he roared and emptied himself deep inside her. Siobhan came hard, her whole body shaking, her pussy clenching around him.
Aftermath
The party continued, but Siobhan was spent. She lay naked on the chaise, legs spread, cum leaking from her well-used pussy in thick white streams. Her pale freckled body was covered in handprints and light bite marks.
Later that night, as we drove home in the moonlight, she rested her head on my shoulder.
“Did you enjoy your wife being a proper whore tonight?” she whispered.
I pulled the car over, lifted her dress, and fucked her right there on the side of the road, sliding easily into her cum-filled pussy.
From that night on, we returned to the Glenmore Country Club many times.
My raw ginger wife had discovered pleasures far beyond our marriage bed — and I had discovered the intense thrill of watching her take them.
