Our flirty, frisky, frolicsome trio hold the whip hand with a married couple.
I had been invited as a local businessman to judge the Ms Trackside Fashions on the Field at our annual outback country cup race meeting the afternoon before the B&S Ball hit full swing.
Bachelors and Spinsters to the polite — to the tourists swelling our dusty town — Beer and Sex.
The fillies in the mounting yard usually had my attention when picking a winner. However, a parade of young women is just as easy on the eye. Alongside two other judges, both middle-aged females, one of whom was my wife, Vivian, we had to consider style and originality, attention to detail, all those matching or appropriate synced accessories, their shoes, and suitable hosiery, which are regarded as good form at the races.
Like a frisky filly, impeccable grooming and deportment were a must: no underwear showing, cleavage, nothing off the shoulders, or too much thigh.
I'll tell you; a girl has to look good to win under those conditions.
Oh, I forgot the hat and fascinators. Those were especially cute and made with feathers and lace for race day headwear.
The filly had to be over eighteen.
Thankfully, they had other judges lined up for the best-dressed gent and the best couple. I wasn't interested in those events.
There were twelve entrants in Ms Trackside, six local and six obviously not; from their entrant info sheets, they were here for all the events of the long weekend, including the massive B & S ball tonight: Bachelors and Spinsters: a fundraiser for local service clubs like the Flying Doctors but more truthfully B & S could detour to Bondage and Swingers.
There was a longish break between races three and four on the program for the Ms Trackside parade and judging.
A bit of quick, tasteful eye candy and a reason to dress up. There were some excellent fashion voucher prizes to attract a good field.
Talk about a hard decision and an immediate hard-on in my pants under the judge's table.
Luckily, Vivian wasn't looking down, seated right next to me. All these young lasses, sweet, cute, curvy, and between eighteen and twenty-two, doing their paces like fillies in the mounting yard.
Seductively frisky and light-hearted young women.
There was a tall brunette, a very athletic contestant in a lemon dress, black stockings, yellow heels and a white and black lace fascinator. She was drop-dead gorgeous.
You would have put your house on her to win if she had been a race filly.
Seeing her parade as a young woman, I only thought of mounting her and sticking my cock right between her peachy-arse cheeks.
A sweet-faced blonde and a sassy redhead appeared to be the brunette's stablemates. They clapped the brunette's dais entry.
God, imagine all three in action.
Then, I did the right thing and focused on the local girls. We needed to keep this unfairly fair and use a handicapper's discretion to fill the minor places with local fillies.
Ms Erica Phillips, all the way from the bid smoke — well, let's make your visit to town memorable — but then I got a severe nudge of reality from both my female judging compatriots.
It was time to decide a winner and runners-up: The trifecta.
The runners-up, after a brief discussion, were two local lasses.
Vivian and Lauren recognised a well-dressed woman in Ms Phillips, while I just voted for the woman under the dress.
Erica, nineteen, was announced the winner and immediately was overzealously girly-hugged by her blonde and redheaded girlfriends.
As the winner of Ms Trackside, I had the pleasure of inviting Ms Phillips to the main VIP marquee for champagne and canapés.
I got her a glass of champagne, and thankfully, Vivian and Lauren were looking after the local runners-up.
I wanted to flirt with this stunning beauty.
I was making light, casual, inconsequential racing conversation and asking her about her background. Still, even with the marquee air conditioning, I was sweating profusely.
She was just so goddam hot, and her breath was so sweet. At the same time, her light perfume wafting in my nostrils and her perky tits just out of reach drove my mind into a sensual muddle.
Her long, shapely black stockinged thighs were pleading to be released.
My most coherent thought — I wanted her thighs wrapped around my face.
Ms Phillips wasn't one for flirting.
She polished off her glass of bubbly and put the flute on the table next to mine.
Her other hand took me by complete surprise but not my responsive cock, which reacted with a jolt of rising to the occasion as her hand swept across my pants, getting the full shape on my rod and nuts in one cunning deliberate action.
She leaned in and whispered, "Behind the marquee...now... call me Erica."
And she was walking away, shimmying her arse, adding an unnecessary second invitation to my pecker.
The brunette was so confident. She didn't look back, like picking a winning filly in the mounting yard.
Her dark hair was gleaming. Her physique held both mystery and pussy promise. No sweat and frickin confident in her gait. Then she went out through the marquee into the bright outback sunshine.
I did a terrible guilty look around for Vivian, but her back was to me, and I bolted out of the VIP zone led by my cock. I made my way around to the back of the huge marquee.
Erica was leaning on a pole, waiting.
I was agitated because I had kept her waiting — even seconds.
God, I was worried about nothing.
She was at me quicker than the barrier gate opening in the cup. Her hands cupped around my face, and our tongues instantly engaged. Her breasts crushed deliciously into my chest. My hands grabbed handfuls of her arse under her yellow dress, taking in her shape through her sheer pantyhose.
She kept kissing me while easing her dress off her shoulders, and my head was buried in her cleavage between her white lacey bra cups. Her musky perfume dominated.
She was wriggling and jiggling down her pantyhose and panties. I saw them flop around her ankles. All this with one hand while her other hand had unzipped me and got my cock into the sunlight, where she was vigorously tugging it up.
Boy, did my cock respond fast.
She guided my fingers under her dress, where they met stunning smooth, moist, girly, silky wetness. I was fingering her warm slit and easing in and easing out and enjoying touching her up.
She made her move like a jockey making his run in the cup. She was straight down to my throbbing pecker and sucking me off.
I mean, she was really sucking me off. It was fantastic fellatio, slurp and siphon.
Her angle was perfect. She was holding my rod and directing her lips along my swollen shaft. She did the alternate licking of my sensitive tip and swallowing my rod.
Man, oh Man, could this filly gulp cock. She gently squeezed my pecker head, rolling her fingers around for maximum male pleasure.
She dropped my pants and boxers, fully releasing my cock and nuts. She licked and sucked my balls in turn.
Giving head, in the end, is about loving the cock in your mouth with total enthusiasm.
This brunette had it and was sucking me off in a whole ball-bursting way, especially as her finger was rimming me too.
However, I had that sixth sense moment in my delirium of satisfaction. The fricking — you have caught out — you cheating bastard —
I had been enjoying watching my balls get licked and fondled. As she worked and worked my shaft, my cock was gummed with Erica's gluey glistening saliva.
When I looked past the brunette's bobbing head, level with my thighs, I saw Vivian come around the edge of the marquee.
Well, I was caught with my pants down.
Vivian couldn't see my cock, but the lass's head was flouncing and swaying around in the tell-tale cock gobbling motion.
I could tell my wife was both shocked and angry.
She only got out: "Chris...how could —"
Then her face changed quicker than I have ever seen a face change as my wife was captivated by the urgency of her sexual surge.
No, it wasn't seeing her hubby getting sucked off by a nineteen-year-old Ms Trackside winner. It was her own body that had become a mass of fondling Shiva's hands.
The brunette's girlfriends, the blonde and redhead, had come to their friend's rescue or to join her. I didn't care, but boy, was Vivian sexually occupied and hornily stunned.
Vivian succumbed immediately to the frenzy when the body instantly overrules the mind.
Shit, I nearly came as I watched two girls willingly sexually mug my wife. Vivian was moaning as her dress was around her waist.
"Ooh! Aahh! Oh my! Ooh yes! Ooh, that's naughty- but I like it! Ooh! Aah!'
The blonde fondled her tits over her bra cups. The redhead was under my wife's dress. Her stockings and knickers were down, and her face was buried somewhere between my wife's legs under her dress.
The brunette, Ms Erica, turned and saw what was happening and was suddenly up and turned and bent over in front of me.
Her coochie splayed for my cock, a shaved, pleated opening of male desire. My cock prodded in and out around her lips edge to imbibe the pleasure as I watched my wife's tits being sucked off and her dress now held at her waist.
I could see the redhead sucking right into Viv's dark fur patch. God, it made me want to pump the brunette bent in front of me so hard.
I jammed my cock deep into the brunette, holding her ankles.
Sheez she was tight and warmly wet.
She flexed her inner muscles and joined my pummelling with her constricted movements. Sweet cock bliss.
I was watching, though, as my wife was finger fucked by the redhead and was now sucking off the blonde's exposed cute muffiny tits.
I saw my Vivian as I couldn't imagine her; outrageously libidinously dirty. She was spitting and sucking nipples, and her pussy was finger fucked to a moaning orgasm.
"Ugh! Ugh!" my wife moaned.
I was pumping pussy as I couldn't remember pumping pussy since college. Insanely fast. In cock overdrive. The filly under me, her pussy was a lather of perfection.
"Hngh! Hngh! Hngh!" as I pounded her like a virile stallion.
The redhead had her dress up and her frilly knickers down, and my wife was rubbing her big hard nippled breast against the exposed wide flaps of the girl's shaved pussy.
The blonde was behind my wife. She fingered Vivian's arse.
"Orrgh! Aargh!" groaned my partner.
Vivian was allowing herself to be seduced willingly by two young females. Her body embraced touch as bodies do naturally.
The brunette kept me occupied.
"Put your cock in my arse...and watch your wife...get her arse licked out."
The full ignition of my sexual self and Vivian was too rapidly switched to the maximum like a jockey flexing the whip to urge his filly to the finishing line: we were engaged winners.
The cute angelic blonde was licking out my Vivian's pucker crack, and my Vivian had her tongue digging into the redhead's exposed pinkness, hitting her big clitty with bursts of energy.
Holy Jesus! The redhead squirted like a waterfall in my wife's face!
My cock was locked in the tightest arse I had ever experienced.
Fuck was the lass latched and fastened around my dick. I don't know how I managed to get movement in such perfect constriction.
Damn it, the brunette was good, compressed yet yielding to my jamming pecker.
She knew I was close to cumming and released herself from my cock.
I had that moment of stupefied male blue-ball worry. I needed to shoot my load off.
The blonde and brunette escorted Vivian over in her bedraggled, tousled state. Still, man, she had never looked more desirable as her mouth was guided by the girls onto my throbbing, ready-to-explode cock.
Oh, insane delight, the redhead bent my Viv so her arse propped as she engulfed my enraged pecker.
God knows where the riding crop came from, but the redhead swished it on my Viv's rump, and my wife jack-hammered her head up and down my rod.
I skull fucked my partner!
The blonde fondled Viv's boobs, and the brunette eased down and licked my nuts as Vivian finished me off.
Wow, was my wife keyed up! It was more intense than any sex from our earliest days together.
She engulfed my cock. She buried my cock deep in her mouth. She let me shoot my entire wad off in her receptive, happy mouth.
Vivian surprised me as she gulped and swallowed my wad, licked her lips, and repeatedly kissed my cock between yelps as the redhead smacked her arse with the riding crop.
The three young women had tidied themselves up.
There was a Cup race to watch, and Ms Trackside was tasked with presenting the cups to the winning connections, the trainer and the jockey later.
Vivian kissed me deeply as she got up.
I just hugged this seemingly new woman in my life.
We were lost in each other for a minute or two.
When we disengaged to tidy up, we saw the riding crop with Viv's shoes. We realised the three young women were gone, but we would never forget how they rekindled our flagging sex lives on cup day: the three sizzling, racy fillies.
I was surprised that the redhead had time to write a quick note.
In summary — the crop was a gift to her from a jockey she sucked off, and it was now her present to Vivian and me.