Over our Singapore chili crab dinner, Isla and I brainstormed how to make the next six weeks work for us. We both needed to train and prepare…her admittedly more than me, if we had any hope to take the prize.

We took a moment to scoff at the purse. Sure, who couldn’t use two thousand dollars? But we were doing okay financially, and neither of us had cash on our minds. We had kinky sex and new lusty experiences with exhibitionism to occupy our thoughts. The money was never part of the calculus.

In fact, we both vowed that, should Isla take the prize, she’d donate the award money to a local shelter for women in distress. We pinky-swore it. Solid as any blood oath.

Six weeks to prepare…

Our fuck session this morning told us that her present stamina was borderline, but with practice, she could easily own this category. We were both looking forward to the preparatory workouts, but also agreed that we shouldn’t overdo it or make it rote. This should be fun and liberating, or else, why do it at all?

Next, our attention turned to the other categories on which she would be evaluated. One was “overall positive performance,” which seemed like a catch-all, and we weren’t sure how to tackle that. We simply figured that if we focused on the other categories and gave it our all with freedom, fucklust, and joy, this would fall into place naturally.

That left us with (1) visible lust and (2) sexual creativity,

Visible lust was all on her. But anything can be learned, including performances. Ultimately, it boiled down to mostly non-verbal communication…her instilling within her audience’s collective mind that she was hot to fuck and craved these new and random strangers’ cocks exploring her pussy.

Fortunately, she has a PhD in communications. She studies cinema. And we watch porn.

We’d both have to be slightly more mindful while watching. We agreed to scour the internet for a couple of scenes every day and determine what facial expressions and body language worked or fell flat. Isla’s goal would be to give performances that mirrored the more successful scenes. This included positioning, eye lines, and dirty talk. After all, some of the communication could be verbal!

Knowing what to do and actually doing it are two separate things. We’d need to record us fucking, and focus on her facial expressions, body angles, and general demeanor. We both agreed that during our stamina practice sessions, we’d record them and analyze them later to see what works best. No problem. Easily done with our phones mounted on the light rings we bought for Zooming during the pandemic. We had two, so we could focus on two different aspects during each practice. We’d always have one recording focused on her beautiful face, but the other would alternate between whole body versus fuck parts.

Strategizing on this, we were both already gnawing at the bit for our first practice session, which we vowed would happen before slumber embraced us both.

Our plan was taking shape, but next we had to think about “sexual creativity.” We were full on crab, and exhausted the Vinho Verde, so I went inside, my cock swinging as I meandered, and grabbed two cognac snifters and a full bottle of Remy Martin. I allowed us both a generous pour, certain it wasn’t the last.

Isla took a generous swig and said coyly to me, “This is all you, babe. Ain’t nobody as creative as you!” My pride brokered no argument. I’m good at this. In fact, most of my ideas took form early this morning.

This is when I asked her to make a list of things to buy for our “preparation.”

Her list:

·       Dildos of multiple sizes. For her pussy.

·       Plentiful personal lubrication

My list:

·       A large digital countdown timer, like ones used for athletic events

·       Two large spinning wheels with customizable backgrounds.

Her list made sense. Mine raised her eyebrows.

The timer: the rules of the contest didn’t specify how long one suitor could spend fucking any contestant. What if the suitor had incredible stamina and monopolized her time? That seemed to run counter to the spirit of the contest, so I came up with a contingency plan.

When a suitor approached her, I’d start down a five-minute countdown. If he finished before the end, the timer was moot. But if not, he’d have to withdraw, and allow the next suitor’s penis to feel her cunt’s embrace. This plan ensured a minimum of six suitors…six different cocks exploring her pussy for the judges to evaluate her fuck skills. Maybe more, depending on how it went.

If the timer went off before they shot their load? I wasn’t sure what to do with this scenario. That was the first question I’d email the moderators. I would hope the judges would allow the suitor to pull out, stroke his dick and cum on her tits while she fucked her next…

The two spinners: This was my stroke of genius, and I hoped it would be unique and set Isla apart from the other contestants in the “sexual creativity” category. Every suitor would get a single spin with each wheel. The first wheel would determine the sexual position. The categories:

·       Missionary. Aisha on her back

·       From behind. Aisha on her knees

·       Aisha on top riding

·       Reverse cowgirl

·       On the side, suitor behind

·       Suitor’s choice

·       Aisha’s choice

The second spin would determine where the suitor’s cum would be deposited. The categories:

·       Inside pussy

·       On pussy and ass

·       On body

·       On face

·       Suitor’s choice

·       Aisha’s choice

Every suitor would get two spins to set the (1) expectations and (2) goals. I’d be there to enforce it and cheer on the kink. I’d be stroking my cock while it happens, watching my wife fuck raw cocks and extracting cum. Fate’s spin decided where. Maybe inside her. All in front of a crowd.

Isla loved my ideas about the timer and spinners. Now, time to practice. Time to train.

Oh fuck, is this gonna be hot!

Keep following. More to come. First, I’ll detail our training sessions. Then comes the contest. You won’t wanna miss that!