Posts Tagged ‘adultery’

The Dilemma



As the tattooist’s needle pierced my delicate skin and the painful process of inscribing the company logo above my bare pussy proceeded, I began to think again of all the chaos I’d recently caused. Derrick’s bankruptcy and impending incarceration, the rapes of Carla and Amber, and the anguish that awaits my husband. I knew too what awaits me, the same fate that Belinda, my predecessor met. She would be sold, she was informed, but Mr. Stanford also gave her permission to take her own life, an option she accepted gratefully. But how had I come to this? How had I, a young and innocent bride until just eighteen months ago, come to be lying naked on a table about to be indelibly marked as “company property”? How had I, a unworldly, naïve, Christian girl, agreed to have my ass branded with Mr. Damon’s and Mr. Compton’s initials and so readily accepted my status.



I don’t know how I managed to get myself in this terrible fix. A mere year ago, I was a twenty-one-year-old, faithful wife. And only yesterday, I was sitting nude on the couch in Mr. Damon’s office listening distractedly to him describing my present condition. Suddenly, I heard him abruptly stop talking and point suddenly at me. Looking down, I realize that I’d unconsciously crossed my legs. I instantly uncrossed them. I’ve been told many times that in Mr. Damon’s or Mr. Compton’s presence my legs are always to be open and accessible. Mr. Damon just shook his head in frustration at my stupidity, and continued on. I hadn’t been listening, but I paid attention now.



“As you know, Chloe,” Mr. Damon resumed, “Chuck and I have been discussing how we want you marked now for some time, and we’ve decided to move ahead. This weekend, a tattooist I’ve hired will come here and mark the area directly above your cunt with our logo, and just below that he’ll inscribe ‘Exclusive property of First Capital Investments, Inc.’ On the following weekend, we’ll both brand our initials into your ass. Do you have any questions?”



Though I knew this was coming, I couldn’t really comprehend it. My attention was oddly captured by a tiny drop of cum glistening on my breast. It must have fallen there while I was cleaning Mr. Damon’s cock. I absently mindedly wiped it and placed it dutifully in my mouth.



So I’m to be permanently marked as private property. How will I ever explain that to my husband? Maybe I never will. I know I’m going to be told to leave him, anyway, so what does it ultimately matter.



“No, sir,” I answered. “I don’t have any questions. “I suppose it will hurt a lot, won’t it.”



“Yes, I suppose it will,” Mr. Damon answered sympathetically, “especially the branding. But you need to marked, Chloe. Both Mr. Compton and I agree on that, as does Mr. Stanford. I assume we have your consent.”



“Yes,” I haltingly said. “It’s just that it will be hard to explain.”



The pain of the needle inking my tender pussy suddenly made me begin to think about all that had led me to this tattoo parlor and the end of what little freedom I had left.



The Beginning of Something



Joey and I had been together since I was a freshman in high school and he a junior. We were never an “item.” Neither of us was popular enough for that designation, but that’s probably why we were always so close. I had been raised in a very strict and very Christian family, so I never was allowed to dress in any way that was fashionable. In my family, everything fashionable was “sinful,” anything that would show any hint of my burgeoning body was “moral turpitude.” I was frightened of sex, and the natural inclinations of a budding young woman that emerged at night in erotic dreams and longings paralyzed me the next morning. The pull of hormones tugging at my protective veil of Christian piety turned me into a reclusive young girl terrified of the changes her body and mind were going through.



Joey, though smart, was simply skinny and awkward and attracted no attention whatsoever. But I liked him. He was shy enough to never press me for sex and observant enough to notice the changes going on. We sort of became our own society and built a pretty strong bond. He was my only boyfriend, and I assumed that would always be the case, so upon my graduation, marriage seemed an easy and seamless step. We married shortly after I graduated. I was barely eighteen. Joey was twenty one.



Joey had gotten a job at a garage downtown shortly after his own graduation. He’d always been very good with his hands and automobile mechanics seemed to come naturally to him, so he did very well very early on. Unfortunately, he didn’t make enough money for me to pursue my dream of a college degree in English literature, so I found work as a receptionist at a stock brokerage firm in town with hours flexible enough for me to take some early afternoon and evening classes at the local college.



I’d always done well in high school, especially in my English classes, where the romance of books could shield me from the drabness of the real world I lived in, and my English teachers, most notably Mr. Barnes, all took an avid interest in my education. I say Mr. Barnes most notably because he alone also seemed to take notice of me as a woman, a “blossoming” woman, as he would sometimes put it. It was terribly flattering, exhilarating actually, to be noticed the way he noticed my changes.



I truly was blossoming. My body began to change most dramatically in my sophomore year when Mr. Barnes first met me, and by my senior year, when I enrolled in his honors lit class, I knew, even if no one else did, that I had a fabulous body. It embarrasses me now to think of the hours I spent in front of the mirror admiring the new fullness of my breasts, the waspish size of my waist, and the full and erotic curve of my hips or the hours afterwards when I would reprimand myself for my hideous depravity. My breasts were probably a little too large for my frame, but it really didn’t matter because I was also painfully shy from early years of being “plain” and so intrinsically fearful of “damnation” as well, that in public, I took pains to cover up all of this “blossom” that only Mr. Barnes appeared to see.



After graduation, life began to change pretty remarkably. More and more people began to take notice of me and to remark on my appearance, some of it nice, some of it creepy. On countless occasions, I noticed men following me around the supermarket and not infrequently at the local mall, too. I was still quite shy about all this obvious attention and quite certain that the temptation I felt to flaunt my body was the work of the devil, but I was also oddly flattered and exhilarated at the same time. I even found myself occasionally giving in to the devil’s temptation and “posing” for some of the guys I knew were checking me out, and then feeling ashamed moments later when I’d remind myself that I was now a newly married woman. But I had to admit more and more that I enjoyed being looked at.



Later that summer, I had my hair cut into the more flattering shape my hair dresser had been recommending and let him colored it a much lighter shade of blonde than my natural ash. The hair style and color proved perfect, complementing my face, drawing attention to the fullness of my lips, and emphasizing what I’d always thought to be one of my better features, the deep hazel hue my eyes,. With Joey’s encouragement, I bought a new and more flattering wardrobe. Skirts a little shorter and tighter, sweaters a bit clingier and lower cut, and an attitude a little less meek and retiring, but by no means arrogant or showy. A different woman was emerging from her chrysalis.



A Trip to the Mall



It’s interesting, now that I think back on it, how important to our future one afternoon and one outfit became to the new me. And to the new “us.”



It was a warm early spring afternoon the following year. I was lounging around the apartment in sheer tights and a light sweater when Joey asked me to run over to Sears at the mall with him to get some tool he needed for work. I said, sure, but I needed to change first.



“Nah, come on. You look fine. It’s only Sears,” he said distractedly.



“I don’t have anything on under this, Joey. Don’t you think I should at least put on a bra?”



“Nobody will know. Come on,” he said, seemingly exacerbated at my reluctance.



“Okay,” I said, suddenly feeling a very unfamiliar but erotic sensation. I’d never been out of the house without a bra. Regardless of what Joey might think, sans bra, my boobs were certainly going to be noticed in this outfit! And for some sudden and inexplicable reason the whole idea seemed exciting! I wanted my boobs to be noticed! “Let me grab my shoes,” I said, trying to tamp down my rising excitement.



The first shoes I came to were totally inappropriate—four inch, black stiletto pumps I’d bought for the senior prom last year. And that’s what I picked.



I threw on a little wind breaker and ran out to the car where Joey was waiting. He gave me the strangest stare, and his “Ready to go?” had an odd excitement to it. A sort of sexual tension that I immediately got caught up in as well. Maybe he wasn’t so “distracted” as I thought. We rode to the mall in a strange silence, tinged with what I could only sense was sexual stimulation mixed with anxiety.



As we got out of the car at the mall, Joey suggested I leave the jacket in the car. I hesitated a second, afraid that Joey would be embarrassed by what he would now clearly see was my almost blatant nakedness beneath my tights and sweater, but I did as he asked. Neither of us said a word as we walked to the mall entrance, but I could see Joey stealing surreptitious glances at my boobs bouncing tantalizingly under the tight sweater as I walked in those totally inappropriate but sexy little pumps. I should have blushed, but instead I was as keyed up as I’d ever been.



In the mall, it was apparent that not only Joey was watching and admiring the body walking beside him. I thought he’d surely see the commotion I was causing and be uncomfortable or self-conscious, but he didn’t seem to be. In fact, he seemed to be suddenly quite possessive, as if he wanted everyone to see that the little “sexpot” next to him belonged to him. I could sense his heart beating faster. I was puzzled, but interested, too. This seemed so unlike him.



I began to be a little more overt, just to see what happened. I deliberately paraded my body, transparently expressing my sexuality in the most obvious manner. The more obvious I became, the more excited Joey became. And so did I.



For the next month or so, every time we’d go somewhere, at Joey’s implicit suggestion, I’d dress in some similar fashion. He never asked outright, he was still too shy for that, but I could see by his reaction that he wanted this to continue. So I accommodated him…and me! I showed more and more flesh in what I wore. More leg, and definitely more boob. Each time we went out, I’d ratchet it up just a teeny bit, so by midsummer, when we went out, Joey had a very sexy young “slut” hanging all over him.



Joey grew increasingly happy with the new me. He’d never been much noticed in high school, but now he was getting noticed for his “bitch,” as he put it one night. And he loved it! More and more!



I don’t deny that I did, too. I loved the attention and most of the comments I’d overhear murmured under a guy’s’ breath. Our sex life got better when Joey began to encourage me to tell him about the guys who’d look at me and at what I’d overhear them say. I learned early on that, if I embellished the stories, our sex was even better.



I began to wear sexier clothes at work, too, shedding the drab, loose-fitting blouses and sweaters and the long granny skirts for a more modern look that highlighted my figure a little more and drew attention to the body beneath. Nothing was inappropriate, but fortunately for me, since contemporary style the last few seasons so emphasized the breast, I could be quite innocently sexy and provocative. And naturally, the looks and compliments I got at work were translated into much more flirtatious and more tantalizing remarks about what was said and done later in the bedroom to Joey. Our sex got better and better.



We even discovered porn, which at first embarrassed both of us, but soon became another part of our weekend love making. Joey became quite intrigued that nearly all the porn stars kept themselves totally shaved, and I agreed that it was a very sleek and sexy look. At Joey’s urging, I soon did the same, and loved the feel of Joey’s touch on the silky smooth skin of my tight young pussy. Joey came almost to depend both on our occasional porn movies and even more on the stories I’d embellish for our sex life.



At first, he’d want to know who “liked” me at work and who “wanted” me the most. Later, he’d ask me who I was most attracted to, and though I was reluctant to say anything at first, when I discovered that even an innocent preference for one of the guys increased his performance, I subtly began to admit to certain preferences. If my stories required considerable variance from the truth, they were also extraordinarily hot…for both of us!



As things progressed, I began to give Joey little fashion shows, shows that always turned into sexy little strip teases. Joey would name all the guys he knew who would “die to see this,” guys at work who had made comments about his “hot wife.” He suggest that maybe we should tease them that way sometime, and I’d go along with it, shaking my boobs and wiggling my ass, pretending I was in front of them. It was all harmless fun.



We began to take fun “risks,” making our sex life a little more dangerous. I had this cute mask that I got at a party shop for Halloween last year, and one night I became the “mysterious lady” who seduced my husband in our bed. Joey loved it! Then one weekend afternoon, I walked out onto our patio completely nude with the mask on and Joey again just went wild.



The next day, we drove out to his mother’s house to water her plants while she was away, and Joey surprised me with the mask. He wanted to take pictures of me. Outside! Totally nude! I probably too readily agreed. The idea was exciting and dangerous, the great aphrodisiacs of our sex life.



We went out into his mother’s backyard, where I sexily stripped for him. I was so excited because it seemed so perilous. Though trees surrounded the yard, I was certain we were clearly visible from the street. But I posed nonetheless, my heart pounding and my excitement peaking. Later, we made love right there on the little love seat we had dragged out for the pictures! That was truly risky and terribly thrilling.



That night, Joey drove me home nude, which was a bit more frightening than I wished at the time, but we ended up doing it again on two other occasions, one time stopping off to neck in the park. We were just two kids, discovering the sex life we never had in school.



We had a party one Saturday night and invited some of Joey’s friends from work. Joey dressed me in something totally inappropriate, a teeny, tiny little Lycra micro mini, fishnet stockings and a bustier! I looked like a hooker, but Joey told me the next day that his friends at work couldn’t stop talking about how hot his wife is. I got really icy stares from the wives all night though, and I’ll bet they were talking about me in a very different fashion the next day. But I didn’t like any of them anyway, so no loss.



This sort of thing went on for the better part of the year, and for a time, it was enough. We were still experimenting with sex and with what we’d become. That was especially true for me. I became increasingly proud, maybe even a little conceited about my appearance, which led me more and more to encourage Joey to show me off. I don’t think I was really sluttish, but I knew I was becoming somewhat of an exhibitionist. And it was fun!



I would still have occasional devastating attacks of guilt and remorse, thinking I was becoming a terrible harlot, but they grew less frequent in time, until eventually I quit beating myself up morally and eventually even stopped attending church altogether. Maybe that was a mistake.



The Club



Early the next summer, a package arrived in the mail for me. It was from an online dress store, some place called “Wicked Temptations.” I hadn’t ordered anything online, and even though it was addressed to me, I decided not to open it. I showed the package to Joey when he came home, and he laughed and said he’d ordered a dress for me as a kind of joke.



“Here, take a look,” he laughed, opening the package and passing the dress to me. “Try it on.”



“Try it on?” I said. “There’s hardly anything to try on,” I laughed, holding up this little fluff of material. “What were you thinking?”



Of course I did know what he was thinking. Our latest adventures had shown me that. But the closer I looked the more intrigued I became both by the dress and by the fact that Joey had purchased it “for fun.” It looked extremely revealing, to put it mildly, and really, really sexy. And I did want to try it on, maybe more than he knew, though I pretended not to.



“Oh come on, Chloe. Try it on. It’s no big deal. It might be fun.”



“You are so silly, Joey,” I laughed. “Okay, you wait right there and I’ll give you a fashion show!”



I went into the bedroom, quickly stripped off my work clothes, and held the little dress up against my naked body. There wasn’t much of it there. It was completely backless and short, and appeared to have a deeply plunging cowl-neck front. An eye-grabbing red, it was composed of a synthetic silk fiber of some sort that was slippery smooth and luxurious to touch. It excited me merely to look at it, and I actually trembled when I slipped it on. I was astonished when I turned to look in the mirror.



Stunned and excited, I could feel my heart pounding in my chest and blood rushing to my face as I glanced again at the girl in the red dress. The dress was not only tight, it was impossibly tight, and clingy, adhering itself to every curve and crevice of my body. And it was not only short, it was exceedingly short, falling only a few inches below my bottom and hugging it provocatively. It dipped so low in the back that a good part of my butt was clearly visible, as was the sides of my boobs.



But it was the front that was most shocking. It was a simple cowl neck, but it plunged well below my navel and was wide enough to display almost the entirety of my breasts. No matter which way I’d turn, more would be displayed than covered. Walking, it was almost impossible to keep myself from spilling out with any step whatsoever, especially given the size of my boobs. It was like wearing water. At every step, some part of my body spilled out. Leaving me literally on complete display. I looked desirable and available…very available!



I could never wear it in public, unless I were to stand immobile, but how I wished I could, because I had never, ever looked or felt so sexy. I just couldn’t wear it in public…. I was determined, though, to let Joey persuade me otherwise!



I walked back toward the front room trying my best to stay in the dress. Entering the room and standing provocatively in the doorway I said, “If you want me to wear this, I must have better shoes!” trying to sound sexy and sultry but bursting almost immediately into a giggling fit.



“Goddamn it, Chloe! You look freakin’ hot. You could wear it at some of the clubs over in Bayside,” he said, after some hesitation, his voice cracking just a bit.



“You’re not serious, I hope. I could never wear this in public,” I said, hoping he was serious. I really wanted to be seen in this stunningly sexy excuse for a dress.



“Well, why not?” Joey answered, looking me up and down. “You really do look outrageously hot, Baby. It could be fun if you would. I’ll help you pick shoes,” he laughed.

“I’d be arrested if I wore this!” I smiled. “But it would be fun, wouldn’t it…?”



We were in bed within minutes and had terrific sex fantasizing about me in that outrageous little dress. I was a little vixen in bed, and our sex fantasy that night was very persuasive. I wanted to be seen in public in that tantalizingly sexy little dress!



Nothing further was said about the dress for a week or so, but the next day, I bought the perfect pair of shoes for our little fantasy dress, red six inch sling-back heels, but I never said anything to Joey about it.



On Friday, a week later, Joey suggested we go out to one of the clubs in Bayside, The Blues Baby, one we’d heard about but never visited. It had a reputation as a pick-up club, and though both of us knew that, neither of us mentioned it. An odd choice, I thought, but a curiously exciting one, too.



“Maybe I’ll wear the dress you bought me,” I joked.



“Well, maybe you should,” Joey replied, not looking directly at me.



“Do you have sufficient bail money?” I grinned.



“Oh come on, Chloe. It’s not that bad,” he answered, apparently seriously. “You see lots of that in the clubs around here. I mean we’re not in the Midwest.”



“Do you really want me to?” I asked, hoping so much that he did.



“Sure, why not. You have the body for it.”



“I couldn’t wear a thing underneath it, you know,” I said, my voice betraying my excitement at the erotic danger.



“We’re young and we’ve never done anything like this before. The guys at work all do this sort of thing all the time, you know, go out, drink, dance, show off their wives or girlfriends on the dance floor. None of them have what I’ve got, so I’d like to show mine off too.”



“You don’t dance, Joey. You hate it, as you’ve told me countless times.”



“But you do, and I wouldn’t mind watching. Watch guys eat their hearts out wanting what I have. Come on what do you say? We’ve always talked about being ‘bad.’ Let’s just do it once.”



“Are you really sure, Honey? Do you remember what I look like in that dress? I’m practically nude!”



“I do remember, Baby. That’s why I think it would be like totally hot, let the jerks at work see how hot my wife is.”



That remark surprised me a bit. He wants to show me off to his coworkers because it reflects well on him, I thought. I’m not a complete feminist, but enough of one to know objectification when I hear it. I was about to say that that was maybe a teeny bit offensive, when it occurred to me, that perhaps, for once in my life, I wouldn’t mind being an “object,” something for guys to stare at and ogle. Not at all!



“Are guys from work going to be there?” I asked.



“I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. Let’s just do it regardless, okay.”



“Okay, Joey, if you’re really, really sure. But this is kinda more than we did last summer. I really cannot stay inside the dress you bought, you know. Every time I move something spills out,” I said seriously.



“I’ll be right there. It’ll be okay. You really do look hot, Babe,” he answered bravely.



I had serious doubts about Joey’s ability to rescue me from any serious trouble, but I just let it go.



“Okay,” I said. “If you’re really okay with this, I guess I could try to be your little sexpot this weekend,” I went on, trying to be less of a cold blanket. “You can have fun showing me off. I’ll be happy to have you display me, okay. I think it could be lots of fun, too! You’re right; maybe we’re too conservative sometimes.”



I took Friday afternoon off from work to have my hair and nails done, and spent the later part of the day on my makeup. Joey had counter duty at work that Friday, so he wouldn’t be home until 9:00, so I had plenty of time to muse over the evening ahead. Unfortunately, the more I mused, the more nervously excited I became, so to calm myself down I made myself a vodka tonic.



I tried the dress on a half dozen times, posing in various positions. I soon knew what every single movement and angle would reveal. None were modest! Dancing, if I decided to, would be particularly precarious, because there was hardly a step, especially in these six inch stilettos, that didn’t almost instantly expose me totally. There would be very little left to the imagination of Joey’s coworkers, if what I expected to happen did happen.



By the time Joey got home, I was a little bit tipsy, but also much calmer and braver. I wasn’t dressed yet, but I had only to slip out of my robe and into that excuse for a dress to be ready.



Joey showered and dressed and by a little after 10:00 we were ready to go. I slipped on the dress, wearing only very, very sheer red thigh high stockings beneath, and with the help of four vodka tonics, said sexily, “What do you think?” thrusting my boobs in his face.



“Wow, Chloe. I guess you look a little more on display than I thought.”



“Too much,” I asked hesitantly, terribly afraid he was about to back out. I’d do anything I could to prevent that. “Will it bother you for the guys at work to see your wife like this?” I asked, hoping the idea of showing me off would make him determined to let me wear the dress.



“No, I guess not,” he replied a bit uneasily. “None of the guys at work are going to be there anyway, far as I know. You do look good. You have a beautiful body. The dress looks a little different tonight though than it did when you first tried it on.”



He was right that the dress looked slightly different. I was nearing that time of month, and my boobs were easily a full cup size larger than when I had first modeled the dress for him, so the dress covered even less now than it did when it stunned him with its brevity before. I was, shall we say, utterly and totally on display!



A great surge of relief went through me when I heard him agree that I looked good and he was, if not completely comfortable with the way I was dressed, at least willing to go along with it. I desperately wanted to be seen in this hot little outfit, for once, to be the object of desire. It was truly like a coming out for me.



The club turned out to be great! It was dimly lit and “bluesy,” the bar was filled but not cramped, and the crowd was a good mix of young and old. We found a couple of great seats at the bar near the dance floor and ordered drinks. I was only nineteen at the time, and afraid I’d get carded, but apparently the body on display in that teeny, slinky red dress proved identification enough.



Feeling sexy and sophisticated, I ordered my first martini. It turned out to be way strong! I was feeling the effects before I finished the first one, especially after all I’d had to drink while getting dressed. I knew my inhibitions were slipping away when I noticed the cowl neck on my dress had shifted dramatically to the left exposing my boob to just beyond the edge of my nipple. I saw that Joey noticed, too. But I didn’t do anything about it except grow progressively more excited. The same was true for him.



“I’d really like to dance, Joey. I wish you would,” I pleaded in his ear, bending over to expose that same breast entirely to him and anyone else who cared to look.



“I suck. I look totally stupid trying to dance. You know that. Believe me, somebody will ask you.”



“Not with you sitting there,” I pouted.



“What, you want me to leave?”



“Not leave, but maybe like just go to the bathroom for a few minutes and see what happens, okay? I really, really feel like dancing. And you said you want me to, right?”



“Yeah, I do. Okay, but don’t get too crazy,” he said. “But maybe a little crazy,” he grinned.



“Okay, but like don’t come back right away. Give somebody a chance to pick me up. Then you can ‘rescue’ me, k?” I said more keyed up and eager than I should have been.



I smiled back at him wickedly and winked as he left for the bathroom.



The second he was out of sight, I sat back in my chair and let the dress do what it wanted, and what it wanted was to exhibit me to the world. Exactly what I wanted, too!



The bartender brought me another martini. “From the guy over there,” he said, eyeing my exposed breasts while pointing to an older guy, maybe late thirties early forties, who was nodding at me.



I smiled back at him, turning slightly to let the dress gape open again.



He seemed content to just stare at me, so I made sure he had an awful lot of flesh to please his eye. I was sitting so that from his angle, nothing whatsoever covered my breast. I smile temptingly.



As he rose from his seat and walked over to me, I turned slightly in my chair to greet him, and with a little tug, helped the hem of my skirt steal to the very top of my thigh. It didn’t have far to go!



As he neared me, I recrossed my legs enough to let the skirt ride half way up my hip and briefly expose the nothing I had on beneath. I smiled enticingly. I was being terribly bad, I know, but I was also in such a sexy mood. Blame the dress, what little there was of it.



Instead of asking me to dance, however, he sat down beside me.



“You are the most compellingly attractive woman I’ve ever seen,” he said sincerely. “I’m glad I came here tonight.”



“Well, thank you,” I said, demurely but not excessively so. The hem of my dress was at the very edge of my vagina now. I subtly inched the dress up just slightly beyond the edge, almost unable to breathe now. “I’m Chloe,” I said with bated breath.



“I’m Brad. Who’s the guy with you?”



‘Oh, that’s just a guy I know,” I lied.



“Is he going to be upset I took his seat?”



“Maybe a little,” I smiled, watching his eyes bathe my body. “Wouldn’t you be?”



“I’d be devastated,” he laughed.



“You from around her?” I asked, moving enough to let the dress slip just that fraction of an inch needed to demonstrate clearly what lay at the very top of my thighs.



He put his hand on my knee and I smiled at him and sat back in my chair. My left breast was totally exposed. I waited a bit before I bothered to “notice” it and fix myself. His hand moved to mid thigh.



“No, I’m from out of town. Here on business,” he answered. “Hot little club,” he added glancing around the room, “but there’s nothing hotter than you tonight.”



I took a large sip of the martini. “Thanks for the drink,” I said. “It’s very strong, but I like it.”



“It impressed me when the bartender told me you were drinking straight up martinis. Not really a girl drink,” he went on. “I had him make you a double.”



“It’s just right for my mood tonight,” I laughed, opening my legs enough to invite his hand further up my thigh.



The back of his hand was brushing against my slightly exposed labia when we both noticed Joey slowly coming back to the bar. If he came up and spoiled this, I would just die. I shook my head quickly at him.



“Well, why don’t you dance with me before he gets back?” I said, nodding at what we were both watching. “Then he can have his set back and you can have me,” I said sexily, pushing my vagina hard into his hand.



“Love to,” he said, not moving his hand. “Finish up the drink.”



I gulped the drink down, nearly choking in the process, and managed to purposely drag the bottom of my dress nearly to my waist as I arose from my seat. Standing I struggled to pull the dress back down, entirely exposing my very wet, silky smooth vagina while untangling myself from the chair. It was quite a show! And I’m certain Brad knew it was deliberate!



Out of the corner of my eye I saw Joey watch me as I flounced to the dance floor.



The dance floor was crammed, which kept me from being the frenzied slut I felt inside, but not so crowded that I couldn’t continue to show Brad all there was to see. When the tempo slowed, I shamelessly collapsed into his arms. The double martini had put Joey far from my thoughts. I knew I was getting myself in trouble, but I just didn’t want to stop.



There was an absolute crush on the dance floor, which I hoped was shielding my behavior from Joey. As I pushed myself into Brad’s body as the music slowed, Brad effortlessly moved his hands from my shoulders to my bare breasts, and as he began lightly to pinch my stiffening nipples, I knew I was in trouble, trouble I was going to have a hard time getting out of. I didn’t really care. Not at that moment.



“You have an unbelievably sexy body,” he said, staring into my eyes, “and a face to match. It would be a real pleasure to take you home.”



I had opened for him entirely, let him assume I was his for the taking. I hadn’t made one move to stop his enjoyment of my body. And I was in deep, deep trouble.



I realized the only way out of this dilemma was some semblance of truth. I told him that the “guy I knew” was actually my husband and that he insisted on taking me out to show me off and that he encouraged this kind of behavior. Brad asked me if I didn’t think that was cruel teasing, and I admitted it was, apologizing and telling him that if I had my way, I would deliver what I promised.



He just left it at that and took me back to the bar where Joey was waiting, but whispered in my ear as he was leaving, “you’re a little cock tease.” That hurt. I was so terribly frustrated and so embarrassed that I told Joey I wanted to leave. I stole a look over at Brad as we left and the look he returned told me how pathetic he must think the two of us. And he was right!



In the car, I recovered myself somewhat and told Joey a made up story about what happened, something about the guy wanting me and me telling him how hot my husband was. Something like that. Anyway, it worked and we had a good night in bed, though the man who was fucking me in my fantasy was not Joey!



Five-Year High School Reunion



Joey’s five-year high school reunion was coming later the next month, and though he had initially not planned on attending, he was suddenly quite eager to go. I had a feeling I knew why. He wanted to be noticed for his “arm candy,” a phrase he’d used a couple of times in the last few weeks. I was okay with it. I liked a lot of the people in his class, and in truth didn’t at all mind having a few of the people who snubbed Joey see what his old girlfriend looks like now. Vain, I know, but I think understandable, too, if you’ve ever been to high school. I thought this could be a very fun night for both of us.



When I told Joey I wanted to find a really special dress for the reunion, he surprised me by insisting on coming along. And it pleased me, too. I liked the idea of the two of us sort of planning our “revenge.” Silly, I know, but kind of fun, too. We visited half a dozen stores before we found just the kind of dress that I had in mind and that I knew would fit Joey’s new image of me.



I liked the dress the moment I saw it hanging on the rack. I was a simple white knit long-sleeve dress with a scoop neck that buttoned all the way down the front. The kind of dress that is demure (a modest top) but sexy (mid thigh length). It was just exactly what I had in mind. Joey was not at all impressed at first, but I wanted to at least try it on. In the dressing room, I was pretty sure Joey would change his mind when he saw it.



The knit material was delightfully sheer and clingy and hugged my body flawlessly. Because I’m a teeny bit top-heavy, the dress was even tighter across my bosom than my hips, and tugged precariously at the buttons. Unbuttoning the top two loosened the dress perfectly and allowed just enough boob to spill out to make the whole ensemble charmingly tantalizing without being vulgar.



As I guessed, Joey was more than pleased. That night in bed, he couldn’t stop talking about how hot I looked in our new reunion dress and what a spectacular sight I’d make. Early in the night, he wanted me to promise I’d flirt, but by the time he’d “warmed up,” he wanted me to go a bit further. The point was to make all the guys who’d snubbed him be jealous of him now. I agreed to everything he said, knowing I wouldn’t actually follow through. It seemed harmless fun at the moment.



I spent virtually all of the day of the reunion doing girl stuff—getting my hair and nails done and shoe shopping. By the time I got home, Joey had already had a drink or two and had one waiting for me. He was very excited and his excitement was infectious.



Dressing was exhilarating. I had bought a pretty lace push-up bra and matching panties. I was going to wear white pantyhose, but decided last minute on white thigh highs with an elegant lace top band instead.



When I came out to present myself to Joey, he was even more excited than I expected. He looked me over carefully, turning me around slowly. And then he said with a distinct quaver in his voice, “You’d look better without the panties. You can kinda see the panty line.”



“You want me to take them off,” I said. “Won’t it be obvious that I don’t have anything on?”



“I don’t know. I don’t think so. Why don’t you just try it and see? Maybe try it without anything, like maybe no bra either?”



I looked at him strangely. He was obviously very keyed up and maybe a little tipsy, but somehow the danger of the suggestion excited me, too. I’d try it.



In the bedroom looking at myself in the mirror sans bra and panties, I knew Joey was both right and wrong. The dress was much sleeker, more form fitting, and infinitely more alluring with nothing underneath. But he was wrong about it not being obvious that there was nothing beneath the dress but flesh. It was very obvious!



The more I looked and posed, the more I wanted to wear it exactly this way nonetheless. I have never looked so captivating or felt so tempting. Or been so brazen! This is the way I was going to Joey’s reunion. I just hoped he’d agree.



The second I stepped out of the bedroom, I knew this look might be too much, and I think if Joey had been completely sober, he might have objected. But a couple of vodka tonics had made him more courageous than he might have been otherwise, and though he hesitated a bit, he said that I looked really hot and sexy. I noticed his hands were shaking when he said it, however. I sensed he might be a little apprehensive about this in-your-face sexuality, but by that time, I was so into this new me, that I chose to ignore it.



As we checked in at the reunion desk, I clearly heard a guy behind us say, “Is that Chloe Wills? Man, what a change! She is smokin’ hot!” I hoped Joey had heard it, too. My confidence soared, as you might imagine.



As we walked to the open bar, I got so many openly admiring stares and not a few murmured guy-type compliments (“Jesus, what a babe,” “Goddamn, that bitch is hot,” that sort of thing). We were going to find a table, but decided instead just to hang around the bar for a while. After another vodka, Joey whispered shakily for me to unbutton one more button. That one more button was going to put a lot of bosom on display, but I went ahead and did it anyway. Joey couldn’t keep his eyes off my chest. I liked that.



Moments later, Derrick Carter walked up to the bar. Derrick is a guy I had a major crush on in high school. Joey hated him, for good reason. Derrick was big, a three sport letterman, stupid and a bully. But oh my god was he handsome! He still made my heart quiver.



In an English class in Joey’s senior year, Derrick had given a totally stupid answer to some question, and Joey had corrected him. Right after class, Derrick had grabbed him, and right in front of everyone, including the teacher, had “bitch slapped him.” Then to make his humiliation complete, he had his girlfriend, Teri Bales, slap him, too, which made everyone, including the teacher, Miss Martin, laugh! Though Joey doesn’t know this, I was walking down the hall at the time and saw it too. I felt so sorry for Joey. It was just so totally degrading and demeaning, but to my shame, I also felt this intense desire for Derrick right then. To do something like that right in front of the teacher was pretty gutsy. He didn’t seem at all bothered by authority, and at that time, I found that really appealing.

“Hey, Joey,” Derrick smirked, walking brashly up to the bar and putting his hand on my shoulder. “Your date looks great,” he added, openly looking up and down my body. “Didn’t you go to Central High, too?” he asked, turning to me.



“Yes, I did. I was three years behind you guys. I’m Chloe, Joey’s wife.”



“His wife, huh? You got yourself a hottie, Joey. Funny I never noticed her at school. Good seeing you again,” he said, looking at me and not Joey.



“Asshole,” Joey said under his breath. I could see he was visibly relieved when Derrick left. We could both see him checking us out from his table just across the room.



“You blew him away, babe,” Joey said. “He couldn’t believe I’ve got such a hot babe. Look at that thing he’s with.”



Derrick was with his girlfriend, Teri, who had put on a little weight since high school. She was still very attractive, but she’d been sensational in school, and now was moving pretty quickly toward fat. Conceited of me to say, I know, but she was certainly no longer any competition. I saw Derrick stealing long glances at me. I liked it! A lot!



A few couples had started to dance, and more were moving toward the dance floor, when Joey turned to me and said, “If Derrick asks you to dance, do it, okay. I want him to see how much hotter you are than that bimbo he’s with.”



It all abruptly came clear. Teri was the girl every guy in school was so hot for when we were in school and the girl who had completely humiliated Joey in the hall that day when Derrick held him while she slapped him to the amusement of everyone watching. He desperately wanted to show Derrick up. And maybe Teri, too.



“You sure?” I asked. I was more than willing, but didn’t want to show it.



“Yeah, do it. Like turn him on and then just like walk away from him!” he said, his speech slurring slightly.



Very weird on Joey’s part, I knew, but I really wouldn’t mind dancing with Derrick, though it didn’t seem likely to happen, not with his girlfriend right there.



“Do you want me to try and make that happen, like get Derrick to dance with me?” I asked.



Joey hesitated long enough to let me know he wasn’t too sure about that, but instead said, “Sure, why not, the asshole.” Having seen the way he ogled me, I had a pretty good idea that I could help it along.



So a few minutes later, I excused myself to go to the bathroom. Walking by Derrick’s table, I looked him directly in the eye, and very slowly and deliberately but coyly, licked my upper lip, and then bent over to check my shoe, showing Derrick the treats available if he asked. That’s all, but I had no doubt he got the message. Whether he would act on it was another matter.



Back at the bar with Joey, I kept looking over at Derrick, making him aware that I knew he was there and that I was “interested.” I also tried my best to make the boob that Joey had wanted displayed as enticing to Derrick as possible. A few twists in the chair helped clearly send the message I wanted.



A few moments later, I saw his girlfriend along with two other girls at the table get up to go to the bathroom. They weren’t gone a minute before Derrick walked over and said to Joey, “Mind if I dance with your wife?”



Joey just shrugged his shoulders, trying to act nonchalant, but visibly nervous…to me at least. Derrick seemed oblivious, and simply ignored Joey. “Care to?” he asked extending his hand.



“Sure, why not,” I said, smiling and letting my dress creep high up my thigh as I slid off of the bar stool. Derrick just brazenly put his arm around my shoulder as he led me to the dance floor



I’m a good dancer and the disc the DJ was playing was really good dance music. I did exactly what Joey wanted. I showed Derrick everything he’d ignored in high school! I danced with what I guess you could call controlled frenzy, enough so that at times, I thought I might spill entirely out of the top of my dress. Derrick’s eyes rarely left my chest.



And then trouble came.



After a series of really hot dance tunes, the DJ shifted tempo to a slow and erotic Byonce hit, and as I turned to go back to the bar, thinking Joey would not want me dancing a slow number with Derrick, he quickly grabbed me and pulled me right up next to him. He wasn’t letting me go, and I confess I wasn’t at all unhappy with that.



One slow tune turned into another. I worried about what Joey would think, but when I felt Derrick growing tense and excited as he pushed himself harder against me, I couldn’t stop myself from responding. When his hand slip inside my dress and cupped my breast, I surprised myself by just melting into him. A second later he was caressing my throbbing breast and stiffening nipple. Though I was suddenly terrified of the consequences, I didn’t resist at all.



As the dance ended and we parted, I realized in alarm, that Derrick had managed to unfasten the entire top of my dress.



“What have you done,” I asked, stupidly, giggling and quickly buttoning back up. “You’ve almost totally undressed me!”



“If we’d had one more dance, I would have opened it totally,” he grinned. “Maybe next time. You have terrific tits, by the way.”



I just smiled at him, said “thanks, I hope there is a next time,” and walked back to Joey, glancing at Derrick over my shoulder and winking at him once.



Back with Joey, I made up some terrible lies tailored to make him feel that he got his “revenge” and that Derrick was now extremely jealous of him. Joey was dunk enough to buy it all. In fact, he was immensely pleased with me and told me so. As I was puffing up Joey, I noticed that Derrick and Teri seemed in the middle of a spat of some sort, and maybe a half hour later I noticed that she had left and didn’t seem to be coming back.



It was getting late in the evening now. Joey was drunk but still reasonably aware, and I was preening like mad for him. I’d unbuttoned another button, showing enough cleavage now to make me the decidedly fine arm candy he coveted, and draping myself all over him to reinforce his sense of ego. But all the while I was stealing glances at Derrick and he at me. A half dozen of Joey’s old “friends” dropped by to check us out. I danced with a few of them and flirted with all of them. Joey was on top of the world.



Around 1:00 a.m., the DJ announced last dance, and I saw Derrick get up and start walking over toward us. I was frozen in anticipation, frantic at the thought of what Joey would say if he’d ask me to dance and distraught at the thought that Joey might refuse.



“Joey,” I said. “Derrick’s walking this way. I know he’s going to ask me to last dance. What should I do?”



“Tell the jerk, no,” he said petulantly.



“You sure you don’t want me to make him super jealous this time?” I cooed. “I think his girlfriend got all upset he danced with me last time and just left. Isn’t that cool? I could really seal the deal this time, just make him so, so envious,” I added, rubbing myself up against him.



He hesitated a second, but said shakily, “Jesus Christ! Okay, do it! Really make him jealous this time!”



“Okay, Joey, but are you sure?” I asked, afraid he might change his mind. “I’ll make him really jealous for us, okay?! And you’re sure, right?”



“Yeah, sure, do it!”



“Hey, you mind if I borrow your wife one more time?” Derrick asked coolly as he leaned against the bar. I could see he was more than a bit drunk.



Joey just nodded his head as if to say go ahead, not looking directly at him, and Derrick escorted me to the dance floor.



Joey had likely forgotten, but I hadn’t, how long these last slow dances went on. I was tipsy and thrilled in Derrick’s arms, and it became increasingly obvious that Derrick was more than tipsy and way more than thrilled to have me there. We staggered more than danced.



“Did Teri go somewhere?” I asked innocently.



“Yeah. She went home pissed off!” he slurred.



“Oh, really? What was the matter?”



“You were the matter,” he said, pulling me tighter against him. “I kept telling her how hot you were and what a great body you had. She got pissed off.”



“Oh, God, Derrick. That was not a very nice thing to say to your girlfriend!”



“You upset that I did?” I felt his hand snake under my dress to once again enfold my breast.



“No, not really, I guess,” I said seductively. “Maybe I like it. Did you know I had just the most outrageous crush on you in school?” I whispered in his ear and pushing my body hard against his.



I had no idea why I said such a thing. It was totally improper, and a stupid invitation to trouble. I can only say that the alcohol and the mood and Derrick’s hand again on my bare breast provoked inappropriate emotions.



“Wish I’d known. If you had the body you have now, I would have known!”



“I did have. Maybe even better. I just kept it covered is all.”



“Your husband is a fucking fool to let you out of his sight, you know. You’re way too hot for that wimp.”



“Don’t be mean,” I said.



“Did he ever tell you about the time I bitch slapped him in the hall?” he smirked.



“No, but I saw it. You made Teri slap him, too. Everybody thought that was so funny. I guess it was. But it was like so, so mean, too,” I giggled. “He looked so terrified when little Teri was slapping him over and over that you just couldn’t help laughing. I should never ever admit this, but I was laughing too. It was just so ludicrous to see this little girl slapping this guy while he cried. Even Mrs. Martin was laughing!”



“Yeah, I saw that. Your little bitch boyfriend was crying, and every time Teri slapped him all the guys would go ‘boo hoo!’ It was very fucking funny. Mrs. Martin was cracking up. I fucked her, you know,” he added casually.



“Yeah, I guess everybody heard about you doing her. You got her pregnant, too, right?. That’s what everybody said anyway.”



“Yeah, I did. Her husband knew I was fucking her but still thinks the kid is his.”



“Well you are a dangerous guy, Derrick,” I laughed. “And I know you’re going to be very dangerous for me, aren’t you. You know why Joey wants me to dance with you?” I added.



“No, why? He must be fucking crazy is all I can think.”



“He wants me to make you jealous that he has a hot wife. He thinks that’s how he can get back at you and Teri for what you guys did to him. I guess it worked on Teri!” I smirked, grinding my body against Derrick’s. “She must be really upset,” I said as invitingly as I could. I could feel Derrick’s cock hardening against my thigh.



I know I shouldn’t have told Derrick any of that. It was such a betrayal of Joey and made him seem just utterly pathetic, but I was just totally into Derrick at that moment and wanted to make him know it.



“What a dumb fuck. You’re right it was fucking hilarious when I bitch slapped your little pussy husband and maybe I should do it again tonight,” he snorted. “What do think?”



“Well, if you really wanted to, I guess it would excite me. You know I wouldn’t do anything to stop you, that’s for sure, but don’t you think holding his wife’s bare tit in your hand is worse than a bitch slapping?” I moaned into his ear. “Or undressing her right here on the dance floor?” I added, taking his hand from my breast and putting it on the next button of my dress. “Isn’t that what you said you were going to do? That’s so much better than just bitch slapping him, isn’t it?”



“Yeah, maybe it is, and I did say I intended to undress you right out here on the dance floor.”



“Yes, you did,” I moaned into his ear.



A moment later, I felt my dress come apart and Derrick’s hands cupping my bare ass. “I’m going to fuck you, too,” he said.



“Yes, I know you are. And soon, too. Oh, God, Derrick,” I whispered in his ear. “You have no idea how I used to dream about something like this.” I could feel his hardness pushing against my naked belly now. I reached down to touch it. It was impressively large. “I want you inside me!” I whispered in his ear.



I could hold the dress together somewhat with the inside of my arms so that I didn’t appear publically nude, but I was bare naked to Derrick. And I could see that a few of the couples around us were aware of that. I didn’t care. I could feel the heat of his body on my exposed skin.



“I need to fuck you tonight,” he gasped, reaching down to stroke the silky smooth softness of my exposed and willing sex.



I pulled his head down to my anxious lips and kiss him, moaning as I flicked my tongue in and out of his mouth, “Yes, I want you, too,” I sighed heavily. “I want you to fuck me, Derrick. Desperately!”



“Lose the wimp! Let me fuck you tonight!” he demanded, moving his hand to cup my velvety vagina. I wanted frantically to obey.



“Oh, Derrick, I can’t,” I gasped as his finger slipped deftly inside me. “I’m with my husband. You know that. How can I?”



“Lose the wimp!” he repeated even more insistently, his entire finger inside me now.



“Derrick, I can’t. You know that. But we will. Soon. I promise.”



“Do you want me?” Two of his fingers were deep inside me now, caressing my quivering clit.



“Oh God, yes, Derrick, I do. Really do. Can’t you tell?”



“Do you want me to fuck you?”



My answer was to kiss him hard while I mumbled into his mouth, “Yes, I want you to fuck me, Derrick. You know I do!”



“Call me,” he said.



“I don’t have your number,” I whispered.



“Do you have something to write on?” he asked, taking a pen from his jacket pocket.



I shook my head no.



And then he did the most outrageous, sexiest thing I’ve ever heard of. He took my breast in his hand and wrote his number on it! There was no doubt at all now that the couples around us were aware of what Derrick had done. I stood there totally exposed as Derrick wrote his cell number on my breast while I swayed in front of him.



The dance was coming to an end, and I had to now contend with the fact that my dress was completely open and people were openly gawking.



“Hold me while I try to get buttoned up again,” I laughed nervously.



“Why not just let me walk you out of here naked?” he grinned. “You’d knock ‘em dead!. Then I’ll fuck you!”



“Oh God, Derrick, I wish you could. I really want you. I promise next time you will,” I answered breathlessly, hastily buttoning up again, this time clear to the top. Derrick’s number on my tit isn’t something I wanted anyone to see.



Joey was a teeny bit peeved when I got back, but a little too drunk for it to last. Rubbing up against him lasciviously and telling ego inflating stories did the trick. We were soon again acting the hot shot and his arm candy.



At home, after rubbing Derrick’s number off of my tit and into my address book, I gave myself totally to Joey, while in my fantasy I gave myself to Derrick. But it would be a fantasy, I promised myself. Though there was no question of my desire, I hoped fervently that he wouldn’t call. I couldn’t fall that low.



Work Days



In the weeks prior to all of this, work had been hectic. The firm was preparing to make a bond offering for a water works company and there was considerable anxiety and consternation about it that I frankly did not totally understand. What I did understand was that I was expected to stay late and join in the frantic pace of the coming weeks.



I really didn’t mind. There was something fun and exciting about the chaos and the strong camaraderie that ensued. Having never been through one of these events, I was attracted to the strong bonding that grew stronger as the issue date approached.



All this frenetic energy all around me happened to coalesce with what was happening to me at home. Joey’s obsessive interest in exhibiting me, his growing attention to my clothes, and new found insistence on my public sexuality, had come to produce profound (and welcomed) changes in me and how I felt about myself.



I was so much more confident about my overall appearance, but especially about my body. It was such a strange transition. I had become a chrysalis, exchanging my old drab, figure-obscuring wardrobe for the clothes Joey approved of now. And I felt a corresponding change deep inside of me. A new and much more confident woman was emerging, one who could admit to the growing sexual nature inside her that Joey had, intentionally or not, released. And sadly, a sexual tension Joey was less and less able to satisfy wholly.



So maybe a more shameless woman was emerging, too. In the past few weeks, two different men had not only seen my naked breasts, but fondled them. One man had undressed me in public and written his cell number on my breast! Worse, I had no regrets, none at all. Quite the reverse, in fact. I liked being looked at. I liked being the object of men’s fantasies. I could never go back to the old me.



The clothes I chose to wear to work more and more began purposely to evidenced the body beneath. I wore thin lacy bras when I wore one at all, and thongs or more often, nothing at all under my short tight skirts and dresses. I grew to love the feeling of being utterly naked beneath my clothes, and the less I wore underneath, the more guys stared, and the more guys stared the more I liked it. So like in classical psychological conditioning, I tended more and more to wear less and less. In short order, I not only became comfortable with but actually came to crave guys staring at me. I especially liked it when my two bosses noticed and complimented me on my “fashion sense!”



The week after Joey’s reunion was the week the bond issue was due, and to put it simply, it was utter chaos and frenzy. And it was terribly exciting. Everyone was working to near exhaustion, especially my two bosses, Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton, and me. We’d work well past 6:00, go for a quick dinner, come back and work until 10:00 or 11:00 many nights, and then just collapse in the conference room amid the mess of brochures and prospectives. Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton would then pour themselves brandy and we’d all just relax and compliment ourselves on how hard we work. The first time they offered me a glass, I refused, but at their insistence I later accepted. In the days following it became a sort of ritual, and one I looked forward to.



The day of the bond sale was the most hectic of my life, and it was sometime near midnight when all the work was finished. I was truly grateful when the day ended and the three of us gathered in the conference room to celebrate. We were drinking and laughing and enjoying the success of the weeks of hard work, and I was in an ebullient mood, made even better by Mr. Compton’s telling me how proud they were of my dedication and work ethic and that there would be a significant bonus for me as a result.



I was totally relaxed and extremely happy. The brandy had never tasted so rich and smooth. I felt wonderfully close to Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton right then, and I could sense they felt the same way. We finally could relax openly and celebrate the success of the bond sale.



I was growing just a teeny bit inebriated when Mr. Damon asked me if I’d ever tried cocaine.



“No, ” I said. “Never.”



“Care to? Matt and I are going to do a little. It’s sort of an energy boost. And God knows we could all use that right now!”



“I don’t know,” I said apprehensively. Isn’t it illegal?”



They both just laughed. “Come on, Chloe, give it a try with us. We’re all partners here.”



I didn’t know how I could actually refuse being a “partner,” so I said, okay, I’d try it.



Mr. Damon laid out three lines and showed me how to snuff it up my nose without sneezing. It burned at first, and I couldn’t really see any great effect, so they had me do it two more times. About ten minutes later I just felt this burst of energy and this general sense of euphoria. I was happy with them, with myself, with the world!



“Like to dance, Chloe?” Mr. Damon said casually.



“I do,” I said, “and I’m quite good at it too,” I added immodestly.



“I’ll bet you are. Why don’t you show us a few of your dance moves. I’d find it relaxing to watch a pretty girl dancing right now. How about you, Matt?”

“It would be just what the doctor ordered,” Mr. Compton replied.



I knew this invitation was not exactly proper, but the brandy and the cocaine had affected me enough to make the idea exciting, nonetheless. The office has “soft jazz” piped into the conference room, and though that’s certainly not dancing music, at the moment I thought it would do just fine, and I stood up and began to sway slowly, trying to get into the beat of the music. I desperately wanted to please my bosses and see them relax. They deserved it! I was soaring.



I could see myself in the large mirror behind the conference table, and from my vantage point, I looked extremely seductive. The way my body seemed to move almost without any conscious decision on my part seemed intensely erotic. Mr. Damon walked over to me and offered me some more cocaine from a tiny silver spoon. The effect this time was instantaneous.



I felt this great surge of erotic energy and an intense emotional attachment to our “team.” Dancing to please these men seemed the most natural thing in the world. I could hear both Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton praising my body as I swayed enticingly before them. I was in another world.



In the mirror, I saw Mr. Damon coming up behind me and watched him take the bottom of my sweater and slowly begin to pull it up. I raised my arms to accommodate him, and there I was, dancing in my sheer lace bra with my sweater in Mr. Damon’s hands. It was like being at home, doing an innocent little striptease for my husband. It seemed the perfect and natural thing to do. Looking at myself in the mirror, I realized how much better I looked out of my sweater, how much more erotic and tantalizing my dancing seemed. I thought I would look even better out of my skirt.



Mr. Damon brought me more cocaine, telling me how incredibly beautiful I looked and how magnificent my body was and how pleased they both were that I would dance for them. The cocaine made everything around me glow with an inner beauty.



In a sort of haze, I saw Mr. Damon pull the down the straps on my bra, and again, I thought nothing of it. Again, it seemed perfect. The swell of my breasts moved much more alluringly and my body seemed to respond to this enticement. And then he reached behind my back and unsnapped my bra, dropping it to the floor at my feet.



Now, I was suddenly nervous. I covered my breasts with my hands, but Mr. Damon pulled them down again.



“Keep dancing, Chloe,” Mr. Compton intoned from afar. “You look stunningly beautiful.”



In the mirror, the half naked girl agreed and continued to dance. My sense of innocent euphoria returned.



“Take your skirt off, Chloe,” Mr. Compton said in a husky voice.



It never occurred o me not to. I slid the zipper down and seductively danced out of my tight little skirt. The body of the woman in the mirror continued to sway seductively.



Suddenly, Mr. Damon just picked me up, carried me to the conference table, and in one quick tug, broke my thong from my body.



As if in slow motion, I saw him lower his pants, pull my legs up to his shoulders and prepare to enter me.



I quickly threw my hands down to cover myself.



“No, please, Mr. Damon. Don’t do that,” I begged. “I’m not that kind of girl,” I pleaded lamely. “I’ve never been with anyone but my husband.” Even in the haze of cocaine, I knew that things had now gone too far, and that I probably would not escape this. I hoped I wanted to.



Mr. Compton calmly pulled my hands away from my vagina, and I felt the head of Mr. Damon’s sex begin slowly to part my labia.



“No, Mr. Damon. Please, please. Please don’t do this,” I sobbed, now nearing panic. I did not want to be raped but I knew I was about to be.



Neither Mr. Damon nor Mr. Compton said a single word. Mr. Compton held my hands above my head, and Mr. Damon continued to push himself deeper into my vagina. And deeper and deeper and deeper. I thought he would never insert himself fully. And then he pulled out, and the next long, deep stroke began.



“This is exceptionally good pussy, Matt. Tight and smooth,” Mr. Damon said, breaking the strange silence that accompanied my rape.



“Don’t make a mess in it,” Mr. Compton observed. “I’ll want some of it, too. Finish up in her mouth. Let me turn her so her head drops over the edge of the table and I can get her mouth ready for us,” he continued.



Mr. Damon never withdrew or really even changed his rhythmic assault of my body as Mr. Compton rotated me sidewise on the table. I felt my head drop off the edge of the table and was instantly aware that Mr. Compton was preparing to enter my mouth. I had never done that before. But then I had never been raped before, either!



“Open your mouth, Chloe.”



I had stopped sobbing, but Mr. Compton’s abrupt command started me all over again. But I did open my mouth, and Mr. Compton took immediate advantage, pushing his cock fully into my mouth. And suddenly, my head was ringing and there were stars before my eyes. Mr. Compton had viciously slapped me twice across the face. “Jesus Christ, Chloe, haven’t you ever sucked cock before?” Mr. Compton snapped.



“No,” I sobbed tearfully. “Never.”



“Well, for God’s sake woman, keep your teeth off of a man’s cock! Suck it like a lollipop. Now open up again and for Christ’s sake be careful.”



I dutifully opened and accepted his erection again, this time being careful to do as he instructed.



He seemed satisfied this time, and began to rhythmically push himself deeper into my mouth. I gagged as he hit the back of my throat, and Mr. Compton and Mr. Damon both laughed.



“A newbie,” Mr. Compton noted in amusement.



Ironically, the slap had actually calmed me down and concentrated my focus. I was now intensely aware of the tempo of Mr. Damon’s cock as he stroked himself deeper and deeper inside me and the tactile sense of Mr. Compton’s slippery sex pulsing in and out of my wet mouth. And more and more I was conscious of a growing warmth spreading from my vagina up through my belly and figuratively engulfing me in ecstasy.



I was on the verge of climax, but I knew this would be like nothing else I had ever experienced. I had climaxed with Joey, or thought I had, but this would be different. Very different! Mr. Compton had pulled out of my mouth, and all of my attention was now focused on Mr. Damon’s sleek cock pulsing rhythmically in and out of me. I felt myself sliding into a deep abyss of sexual pleasure, when with a deep groan, he suddenly pulled out of me.



I was in a panic. I was on the verge of the most electrifying sensation of my life and the cock that was producing it was abandoning me. I was about to beg him, to plead, to pray for him to inset himself again, when simultaneously I felt Mr. Compton’s sex slip inside me and Mr. Damon’s cock pushing deep into my mouth. Almost at once, a warm gush of semen hit the back of my throat and Mr. Damon’s cock began to convulse violently in my mouth.



I had no idea what to do with the seeming gallons of Mr. Damon’s cum filling my mouth, until Mr. Damon told me exactly what to do.



“Swallow, bitch!” he said, stroking the last of his cum onto my lips.



I nearly gagged, but managed to swallow it all in two gulps, and then turned my attention to the astonishing sensation reemerging from my clitoris.



Mr. Compton’s strokes were quicker and harder than Mr. Damon’s, and if they were designed to drive me into utter sexual abandon, they worked to perfection. The sensation that Mr. Damon had launched was now soaring into unexplored realms of sexual enchantment. Every nerve was attuned to his stroke, the very fiber of my being was concentrated solely on Mr. Compton’s beautiful cock penetrating my open body. I could sense something happening that had never happened before.



A moment later it exploded! I began to moan and whimper like some whore in heat and that growing sensation inside me now completely overwhelmed me. I had no choice but to given in to it wholly and entirely.



“Oh God, Mr. Compton!” I shrieked. “Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!” And then I fell over the edge into utter and total abandon. Through lust glazed eyes I saw Mr. Damon’s face contort and his cock begin to shudder, and I through a veil of lust and desire heard myself sobbing in reckless and wanton wildness, “Fuck me, Mr. Compton! Oh God, please, Mr. Compton fuck me hard!”



His cock exploded inside me, and my writhing cunt rose up to meet every gush of his incomparable semen as it burst inside me. His piercing stroke now was so powerful and so penetrating that I thought he might rupture my insides. And if that had been his intent, I would have urged him on!



And then that last, beautiful, vicious thrust up hard against my cervix sent me into the most exhilarating climax I could ever imagine. My mind went blank, my body shuddered in paroxysms of pleasure, and I felt myself enfolded in a blanket of carnal obsession. I had never experienced anything remotely like this…and I knew I would need to again.



At home that night in bed, I thought deeply about what had happened to me. I had been raped. There was no doubt about that. I had pleaded with both of them to stop. But they hadn’t. They were different from Joey. They were the kind of men who simply took what they wanted. And the thought that stuck with me the most was that what they took was only what they deserved to take. They were a different breed of man from Joey. They were more successful and more dominant and commanded a kind of respect from the world that Joey would never know.



It came to me in an abrupt and brilliant blaze of illumination that in taking me the way they had, they had succeeded in taking me from Joey entirely. In a flash of insight I realized that, though I was married to Joey, I now belonged exclusively to them…and to men like them. And though I honestly do love Joey, I knew that he could never possess me as Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton had. They had simply taken me, and I had become their property. I was finally what I was meant to be.



Derrick



On the Monday after my incredible evening with Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton, Joey told me that he would have to be out of town on Tuesday to attend some sort of dealership training or something. I knew immediately that I had lied to myself earlier and that I was in fact going to call Derrick. The realization surprised me, believe it or not. I really had convinced myself that I would never do such a traitorous thing to Joey. Yet later that night, under the pretence of going to the drug story for “women’s stuff,” I called Derrick on my cell and arranged to meet him at an up-scale bar downtown the next night, a place where no one who knows me or Joey is likely to be. It’s mostly lawyers and businessmen.



All day at work I obsessed about what to wear and tried to sublimate my guilt over what I was doing. I rationalized it by acknowledging that some men were simply superior to others and by their very nature deserved to have whatever they could take. Men like Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton. Could anyone really deny that they were higher sorts than most other men? I don’t know that I can really explain it. It gets all confused in my head. But isn’t it sort of like survival of the fittest? They took me because they could, because they were the strongest, and Joey, if he would really think about it, would know that he is not in the same league as these men, and would know way down deep inside, that what they did was their right. And Derrick was that kind of man, too.



I decided it would be best not to draw too much attention to myself, so I decided to wear a white flared skirt that was sexy only because it is short and a white cashmere vee-neck that I decided looked more alluring without a bra than with. Actually, I went back and forth on that, thinking that I might draw too much attention to myself sans bra, but on the other hand, wanting to be at least a little tantalizing for Derrick. Tantalizing won out. White ankle strap pumps and particularly sheer thigh highs completed the look I wanted.



We’d agreed to meet at 8:00, but I wanted to be a little late so as not to look too terribly eager, though I was. I got there by taxi about 8:20 and found Derrick at the bar talking with another guy, who turned out to be some sports announcer on local television named Stan something or other. Derrick introduced me as his “date,” which I liked, and after some inane sort of sports blah blah, Derrick took me to a table near the back, where we were finally alone.



“You look hot, babe,” Derrick grinned. “You see the way Stan was checking you out?”



I actually had noticed, but pretended not to.



“I’m really a little nervous about being here,” I said. “But I’m glad I came.”



“Just relax, Baby. Let’s have a couple of drinks and reminisce.”



“Reminisce?” I said. “Derrick, we hardly ran in the same circles at school. You were way popular, and no one knew my name. But I do know stories about you,” I giggled. “I was terribly interested in all the things I heard about you.”



“Yeah, like what?”



“You really want to know? They don’t speak highly of your moral character,” I said grinning at him.



“Sure, what did people say? I’ll tell you if they’re true.”



“Well, there’s one story that you picked a new freshman chick to fuck every month. Is that true?” I asked coyly.



“Yep, and when I finished with her, I’d pass her on to my posse.”



“Jesus, you are soooo bad! I also heard that maybe not all of the girls consented?”



“You mean said, no? Some did, but I kind of ignore that. Easier that way.”



There was a time I would have been upset about such a remark, but after my experience with Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton, I understood completely. Like them, Derrick was a different breed. Like them, he could and should ignore “no”!



“You are just awful, Derrick. But I guess it’s true that good girls do like bad boys,” I said, smiling coyly into his eyes. “I also heard that you never use a condom and that you got at least six girls pregnant in high school, not counting Mrs. Martin.”



“Eight.”



“You have eight kids!” I exclaimed.



“I got one. The others got taken care of.”



“Abortions?”



“Yeah. The other bitch was this little freshman cunt who thought abortion was a sin or some shit like that.”



“Did you get Mrs. Martin pregnant on purpose? I heard that you did.”



“Long, weird story. First off her little pussy professor husband walked in on us one afternoon when I was fucking her, like just as I was ready to unload in her, and says something stupid like ‘what’s going on here?’ So I calmly get out of the bed, walk over to him, and punch the punk hard in the face. He just drops like a sack. I tell him, ‘Listen, punk, don’t ever disturb me when I’m about to blow my wad in your bitch’s cunt, got that?’ Then I kick him in the gut and walk out.



“Jeeze, Derrick. Weren’t you at all scared he’d do something?”



He just laughed. “Nah, he was a wimp, just like your husband. He ‘forgave’ her and I just kept on fucking her whenever I felt the urge. I used to make her come to school without panties and make her show a couple of buddies.”



“And she did it?” I asked in amazement.



“Sure, just like you will. Anyway, about her getting knocked up. Her punk husband had some shit like low sperm count or something, so she was always taking her temperature and some other weird stuff and then scheduling sex with him. I never followed what was going on until some other cunt I was fucking put me wise. Like soon as I snapped to what was going on, I told her the second she was ready to call me. So she does, I pop a kid in her belly first time, her husband thinks it’s his, everybody’s happy.”



“Does it feel weird to know the kid is yours?



“Nah, means nothing to me.”



“How about the one who wouldn’t get an abortion? Do you see that kid?”



“No. Hey, let’s talk about something else, okay.”



“Sure. Like what?”



“Like how I’m going to fuck you tonight!”



“How? Well, I guess you’re going to fuck me anyway you want, right?” I said, breathlessly and brazenly.



“Let’s finish these drinks and go out to my place. I want to check out that hot bod again.”



In the car, Derrick told me a little bit about his life since high school. He’d gotten a football scholarship to the state university and made All American in his junior year there, but in his senior year, he tore his knee apart, and after three surgeries everyone agreed his playing days were over. But he was lucky to have met a very wealthy booster at college who took a liking to him, and when he left, he set him up as the general manager of a very successful car dealership in town and gave him the use of his house in a very exclusive section of town known as Deer Park manor. That’s where we were heading now.



I asked him about his current relationship with Teri. He laughed and said that I had been the best thing for their relationship because after that night at the reunion she had gone on pills and a diet and took up a fitness routine at the gym and in the process had begun to rapidly shed weight. She was apparently quickly on her way to regaining her high school figure. I can’t say that pleased me, because I truly did relish looking so much better than she did, but how could I complain, really, since her boyfriend was taking me off to have sex with me.



“Where is she tonight?” I asked.



“Back at her apartment.” “Doesn’t she live with you?” I asked, somewhat surprised.



“Most of the time, but I told her she needed to keep her own place ’cause I needed space every once in a while. I need space tonight.”



“I hope you won’t keep much space between us tonight!” I teased.



He laughed and said he intended to invade my space very deeply! I could feel my nipples stiffen.



“How’d a wimp like Joey get a hot body like you, Chloe,” Derrick asked off handedly.



“Maybe ’cause you didn’t ask,” I kidded.



When we pulled into the driveway where Derrick lived, I was definitely impressed. It was a magnificent Tudor style house with a large, manicured lawn and lush gardens lit by soft yellow lighting that lent the entire landscape a soft, romantic appeal.



“God, Derrick, this is beautiful.”



“So are you, babe,” he said, pulling me closer to him and bending down to kiss me.



His kiss was almost exactly what I expected: urgent, demanding, aggressive. It was perfect. My response was instant submission. I signaled in every way possible that I was now his to do what he wanted. When he reached down to pull my sweater over my head, I felt my heart begin to beat frenetically. Tonight, I was going to be what I promised at the reunion.



“You have a fantastic rack, babe,” he said holding both breasts in his hands while feeling their heft. “Fucking heavy, too! You had this rack in high school?”



“They kinda grew all of a sudden in my sophomore year,” I murmured.



“Why the fuck didn’t you show them? I’d been on you so fast. God damn these are fine,” he said, kneading my boobs forcefully now and pinching my straining nipples. “Well, their mine now and that’s all that counts,” he said. “I’ll want to show a couple of friends this set, you know.”



I just nodded and said quietly, “Yes, of course….. Like you said, they’re yours now.”



Out of the car, I felt exotic and enticing, standing topless in the soft light of Derrick’s enchanting yard.



“You’ve got a totally hot body, babe. I’m going to want to show that too. Now lose the mini”



I immediately unzipped the skirt and squirmed out of it, pleased at the way he looked at me and proud to be the source of his admiration. Standing now in nothing but thigh highs and heels, I watched him soak up my figure, running his hands over my hips onto my butt and then to my yearning clit. His touch there and his subtle penetration nearly buckled my knees. If he wanted to show me off, then I wanted him to show me off. Desperately!



“Pick your clothes up and throw them in the trash over there. You won’t need them again.”

“Fuckmeat,” I heard as I answered the phone. “I want you to get the tightest pair of jeans you own and meet me at Bright Rite Cleaners over on Parkway Avenue in the mall there. Meet me in twenty minutes.”



It had been two days since Derrick had taken me in the bedroom where I now stood, hoping Joey didn’t overhear this. I had spent two days shielding my marked ass from Joey, having to make up an excuse for sleeping in panties. I had pled a headache to avoid sex, but couldn’t keep this up much longer.



I had mentioned to Joey that I’d heard on the radio that Derrick was having a grand reopening at his car dealership and that we should stop by. He wasn’t too excited about that and remained noncommittal, and I knew that unless I had sex with him and get him excited about making Derrick jealous again, really jealous this time, he would ,first, have no interest in going and, second, never let me dress the way Derrick demanded. This would take serious planning, but I was determined to make it happen. I could not disappoint Derrick.



I met Derrick at the cleaners. He introduced me to Mrs. Lee, an older Chinese woman who the owned the place and who was apparently Teri’s seamstress.



“I Miss Teri’s tailor,” she said. “She so skinny now. I fix all her clothes. You Miss Fuckmeat, right?” she said in her odd but quite distinct pronunciation.



I blushed beet red and Derrick laughed out loud. “Yes,” I said nervously looking about me.



“Go back there and put those jeans on and this tee shirt,” Derrick ordered. “I want Mrs. Lee to alter them for me.”



The tee shirt Derrick handed me was what in girl speak we call a “wife beater,” and it was very well worn. I struggled into the jeans I’d brought, which fit me like they were painted on, and pulled on the tee shirt. It was tight over my boobs and so worn and sheer that it was virtually translucent. I felt nearly naked walking back out to the fitting room.



“Let me show you what I want,” Derrick said to Mrs. Lee. “I want the tee cut off about here,” he pointed, tracing a line just below my boobs,” but don’t hem it. “And then I want the jeans cut off like this,” drawing a line that swept up my butt and clear to the waist band on my hip and down again to the front. “Don’t hem that either, but cut the pockets off and sew them up.”



Turning to me, he said, “Wait for these. I’ll call you later.”



Fifteen minutes later, Mrs. Lee returned with my “ensemble.” “These very small, Miss Fuckmeat. You show lots!”



I started to tell her that my name was Chloe, but thought better of it and left.



At home, I tried on Derrick’s outfit. The jeans were now shorts cut so high that the lower part of my butt was clearly visible as was the very edges of my little cuny. The tee fell to the bottom of my breasts, but barely. In the mirror it was dramatically evident that there was nothing underneath any of this but bare tits and ass. There was no way Joey would let me wear this, I thought, even though I knew that somehow I would have to make him let me.



For some inexplicable reason, I threw both the jeans and the tee into the wash, set the water temperature to hot, and washed both three separate times and dried them in the sun. When I next tried them on, the shorts had shrunk so that they were almost impossible to pull over my hips and button. It took seemingly forever to wriggle into them. The edges were now perfectly frayed, and even more revealing. In the hot wash, the tee shirt had shrunk enough to reveal fully a half inch of flesh at the bottom of my breast and had become transparent to the point of being literally see thru! I had simply made things worse. Or better, depending, I guess, on who was looking! I knew Derrick would love what I’d done, and Joey wouldn’t, but I threw everything in the hot wash again anyway!



I took the risk of Joey getting to see Derrick’s message on my ass, the one that said he owned me, and naked in bed, told Joey how proud it made me when he would show me off, and how it would be so outrageously hot for him to make Derrick jealous again, and how terribly much I wanted to be his perfect sexpot that only he could have. It seemed to be working, and I sealed it all with outrageous sex.



Joey had agreed during our very hot sex and sex talk to let me dress in anyway, but when I slithered into my now impossibly tight jean shorts and pulled the truly obscene tee over my heaving breasts and presented it all to Joey the next afternoon, I was pretty sure from his expression that this was way, way too much. It probably was. It was 1:00 in the afternoon and I was dressed for the streets at midnight. But I needed to wear this for Derrick. And would!



“Maybe that’s just a little too much, Chloe?” he suggested timorously.



“Lot’s of college girls dress like this,” I said defensively.



“You’re not a college girl.”



“But I’m that age. Why can’t I show off a little,” I said, forgetting that the whole idea was for Joey to show me off, not the other way around. “And don’t you think this would really drive Derrick crazy?” I said, changing course. “He would be like so, so jealous of you,” I cooed, climbing up on his lap and sticking my boobs in his face. “You could just show me off so perfectly, right? Your hot little sexpot wife? All that stuff we talk about?



I could see he was still reluctant.



“Then I’ll do anything you want afterwards, k?” I cooed. “You can take me anywhere, and I’ll behave just like you tell me.” I could see he was torn now, and I just held my breath.



“Okay, but we can’t stay long. Like right in and right out, okay,” he said apprehensively.



A great flood of relief engulfed me. “Right, that’s perfect. Right in and right out! Just enough for him to see what a hot babe you’ve got, okay.”



Still, there was considerable tension in the car as we drove to Derrick’s dealership. Walking to the car I couldn’t’ really keep my boobs from bouncing or the tee from riding up half way up my bosom and revealing more and more with each bounce. I should have worn something other than heels, I knew instantly, but I also knew heels would be what Derrick would want. I sat quietly in the car for the ten-minute drive.



At the dealership, my nipples stiffened almost instantly. I wanted so badly for Derrick to see and appreciate his property strutting proudly to him. By the time we reached the front door, I knew the tee had ridden higher up my boobs, but I was momentarily shocked to see my moving reflection in the window. The entire underside of my tits was prominently displayed and each step revealed more than a hint of nipple. I tugged it down as best I could, but two more steps into the showroom once again found my tits put totally on view for all who wished to see. This was apparently to be their natural position now for the slut I’d become.



The showroom was more crowded than I hoped. There were maybe fifty or sixty people of all ages and types. There were mothers and fathers with little kids, a bunch of serious business types, some pretty teenagers serving cups of lemonade and plates of little sandwiches. I got very ugly stares from the women and quick and furtive glances from the men before they all quickly averted their eyes. There were also half a dozen young guys obviously on the prowl, and it was only in that crowd that I wouldn’t stand out disturbingly. I was terribly uncomfortable.



Fortunately, Derrick saw us almost immediately and guided us away from the throng in the showroom. The look on his face as he checked me out erased all my discomfort.



“Hey, you two. Glad you could come by,” Derrick said, looking only at Joey now. “It’s funny,” he went on, “I was just thinking about you last week, Joey,” he said, clapping him on the shoulder.



When, I thought, while you were fucking me in his bed?!



‘Yeah?” Joey said.



“Yeah, I heard at the reunion that you were into auto mechanics, and since I remember you as one of the smartest guys in school, I’m guessing you’re a damn good one. I’m looking for a shop manager, a guy who can run the books and offer a little help on the floor when necessary. Don’t suppose you’d have any interest in an interview.”



He was playing Joey like a maestro.



“I’m pretty happy where I am, but you never know.”



“You into racing? We’ve thinking of putting something together, probably some dirt track to start and then move up a little,” he said, baiting the trap. I had told him the night he fucked me that Joey was into racing.



“Yeah, I sort of follow the cars now and then. What are you building?” Joey said, suddenly warming to Derrick.



He had hit all of Joey’s buttons. Called him smart, said he was needed, offered a car to work on. I could see that Joey was hooked.



Two very attractive young girls, neither of whom could have been more than eighteen years old, walked up to us, and Derrick introduced them as Carla and Amber. Carla was a striking redhead in the shortest miniskirt you could imagine, and Amber was a perky blonde in shorts and a camisole that left her midriff bare and cut low enough to amply display her firm, full breasts. I watched Joey puff up a little when Amber said she was so glad to meet him and that Derrick had told them how much he’d hoped he’d come. How he could fall for that I don’t know, but he did. Carla was also flirtatious, but it was obviously Amber that caught Joey’s attention.



“Why don’t I let Ramal show you around the shop real quick. Chloe can wait up in our “VIP” lounge. It’s best not to have women out on the floor when were working, especially pretty ones like you wife. Dangerous business!” he said, putting his shoulder around Joey’s shoulders and beckoning to Ramal. “Ramal, take Joey out to the shop and show him around a little. Tell him what a great place it is to work. Carla, you take Chloe up to the lounge and get her comfortable.”



It apparently had worked. Joey turned and asked if it would be all right to leave me “just for a few minutes.” I replied, “Sure, I’ll be okay. Take your time,” and watched him being led out into the garage like a lamb to slaughter.



It surprised me that Joey would leave me dressed the way I was. I was for all intents and purposes nude…and would be soon! Derrick would see to that. But the car was apparently more alluring at the moment.



“Let’s go up to my office. You look fucking hot!” Derrick leered, patting my ass. Turning to the girls, he told Amber that he was taking me up to his office and that when Joey is finished in the garage, she should “entertain” him until he’d finished with me. He told Carla to go back to the lounge until he called her. Both girls gave me just the snootiest look.



Derrick’s office was in the middle of the second floor and overlooked the showroom on one side and the garage on the other. The blinds were all raised on the windows, so everything going on was clearly evident.



The door hadn’t closed behind us before Derrick ordered me out of my shorts, to check that his message proclaiming my ass and cunt to be his property were still there. They were, in all their glory.



“You might as well take the top off, too, though there will hardly be a difference,” he laughed. “How the fuck did he let you out in public that way?”



I just shrugged my shoulders and displayed my tits as ordered.



“Turn around and put your hands on that rail there and take a look down in the garage. See Joey down there? If he looks up, he’ll see your tits in the window, but he’ll just have to guess that my cock’s in your cunt,” he grinned.



I dutifully turned to the rail and grasped it with both hands, my vulnerable breasts on exhibit for all who chose to look. I spread my legs at Derrick’s brusque command. He impaled me on his astounding cock a moment latter. I knew he preferred silence, but I couldn’t help the impassioned, fervent moan that escaped my lips as his cock slid effortlessly into my wet and aching cunt. “Oh my God, Derrick, I love your cock inside me!” I whispered breathlessly. “So, so much!”



It was a quick fuck, but the mere thinking of Derrick and craving his gorgeous sex all morning had prepared me thoroughly. There was no need of foreplay. I was ready when I walked in. When he erupted inside me I met his ejaculation with an astonishing climax, all the while watching Joey lusting over some racecar Ramal was showing him on the floor. When Derrick finished with me, I simply collapsed on the floor, engulfed in the intensity of my climax.



Derrick was on the phone. “Carla, tell Ramal to come up to the office, and then bring me one of those bottles of solvent from the storeroom.” Turning to me, he said, “Stay here until I come back, and stay the way you are!”



“You mean naked,” I asked.



“Of course I mean naked, cunt! What else would I mean?” And walked out the door.



He apparently met Carla coming up the stairs, because I heard him say, “just go on in and put the solvent on my desk. It’s for the bitch inside.”



Carla came in, looked at me with amusement, and said, “Hi, I’m Carla.”



Carla was astonishingly beautiful, with long red hair, green eyes, and a perfect body. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen at best, but looked wise beyond her years.



“Hi, I’m Chloe,” I responded.



“Oh, really? I thought your name was Fuckmeat. I’ll have to tell Derrick that he has your name wrong.”



I blushed in absolute humiliation. “No, please don’t tell him that,” I whimpered



She laughed and walked over to the window. “I saw you come in. Where on earth did you get that vulgar outfit you were wearing? Amber and I just burst out laughing when we saw you. We both said, ‘Oh my God, what was she thinking!’ At first I thought the guy with you had to be your pimp, but then Derrick said that he’s your husband! Is that him on the floor leaving with Ramal?” she asked.



I glanced over. “Yes, that’s him.”



“Was Derrick fucking you while he was out there?”



I simply nodded yes.



“God, what a tramp you are!”



“Who’s a tramp,” Derrick asked, coming back in the door.



“Fuckmeat is, who by the way says her name is Chloe!”



“Well, she lied to you,” he said, staring hard at me.



“Shouldn’t liars be punished?” Carla asked provocatively.



“Maybe you’re right, he said. Addressing me, he said, “Fuckmeat, did you deny your name?”



“I guess so,” I whispered softly.



“Hmmm, that’s bad, very bad of you. Come over here and take my belt off. I think you could use a little leather on your ass,” he said. “Turn around and show Carla your ass message!”



Carla burst out laughing. “Oh my God, Mr. Carter, that is so outrageous. Does her husband know that’s on her ass?”



“I don’t know. Ask her.”



“Does he, Fuckmeat?” Carla asked?



I nervously shook my head no.



“The belt, Fuckmeat,” Derrick said sternly.



Upset and agitated, l removed his belt, handed it to him, and bent over the table as he ordered. The two vicious lashes he quickly delivered hurt intensely and immediately brought tears welling to my eyes.



“Now, what’s your name?” Derrick asked.



“Fuckmeat,” I replied, sniffling. “Tell Carla what your name is.”



“It’s Fuckmeat,” I said softly, addressing Carla.



“You should whip her tits, too,” Carla suggested.



“God, you are a sadistic little bitch, aren’t you Carla. Here you can do it,” he said, handing her his belt.



“Oh, thank you!” Carla said excitedly. Okay now, put your hands over your head, Fuckmeat,” Carla added pleasantly. “God, this is going to be so much fun,” she said to Derrick, who smiled back at her.



I looked at Derrick, but he only nodded his head and told me to put my hands over my head. I raised then dutifully and closed my eyes. Both of Carla’s strokes landed across my nipples. I whimpered in anguish, not wanting to express the burning, horrid pain shooting through my breasts in front of Carla.



“She closed her eyes,” Carla said. “Can you make her keep her eyes open and let me do it again?” She asked sweetly, pawing at Derrick’s chest..



“Sure, why not. Have fun. Keep your eyes open this time, Fuckmeat,” Derrick instructed, laughing and squeezing Carla’s boobs.



The door opened and a black man, apparently Ramal, entered just as the belt in Carla’s hands descended again on my breasts, but fortunately missing the nipple this time, while leaving two more deep red welts. I screeched in pain and fell to my knees.



Derrick pulled me to my feet immediately, and turn me to face the large black man who had just entered the room



“Fuckmeat,” Derrick said, “this is Ramal. He was babysitting your husband while I fucked you, and I want you to thank him.”



Through tear streaked eyes I saw the very large, obese, and greasy black man who had just entered. He was staring hard at me and putting chills of disgust down my spine.



“Oh, man, Boss. That is some fine looking pussy you got there. Fuckin’ tits on that bitch! Those muthafuckers be huge! Man, I’d like a piece of that white pussy,” he mumbled, reaching out to fondle my breasts.



“All of you will get to fuck her later on, but right now you’re going to have to settle for a blow job,” Derrick said, and grabbing me by the hair, he led me over to Ramal. “On your knees!” he ordered. “Get his cock out and thank him with your mouth.”



Disgusted and scared, I knelt in front of Ramal and began to fumble with his pants. He was even fatter up close, and smelled of food and sweat and engine grease. It was just awful. I unzipped him and pulled his cock from his pants. Like a black snake uncoiling, it began to stiffen in my hands. I looked at Derrick, who simply gestured for me to take Ramal’s cock to my mouth.



His cock looked foul and crusted with what was likely the juices of his recent lovers. I sensed that he had not bathed in some time. But nauseated as I was by what was in front of me, I deliberately took it to my mouth and began to suck his engorged penis. His gross belly hung directly over my head.



He moaned and uttered something unintelligible to me, but something that made Derrick chuckle, and I continued to draw him deeper into my mouth. Ramal was disgusting in every way imaginable, but I needed to please Derrick. At the moment, that was all that mattered.



I worked hard, hoping that Ramal would soon climax and free me from this horror, but he seemed intent on prolonging my misery, taking long and slow thrusts into my sickened mouth.



Suddenly, Carla was behind me. She grabbed the back of my head and slammed it forward onto Ramal’s cock, driving it completely down my throat. “That’s the way you suck cock, you stupid tramp!” she exclaimed.



I heard Derrick roar with laughter and felt Ramal groan in pleasure.



With his cock now deeply embedded, Ramal began to fuck my mouth in earnest. I was choking, gasping for air, and filled with utter repulsion. “Just please finish,” was all I could think.



And finally, after five or more deep hard thrusts down my throat, he ejaculated! I heard Derrick instructing me to “swallow every drop,” and I tried desperately to do so. He filled my mouth to overflowing and try though I might, some squirted from my mouth and dripped to the floor.



When Ramal withdrew, I felt an intense sense of relief, and ironically, even pride in doing something so horrid for Derrick.



Carla walked over near me, and pointing at the ground, said, “Derrick, she’s made a huge mess on the floor.”



Tell her to clean it up,” he said.



“Cunt,” she said, “Did you hear what he said?”



“Yes,” I answered. “Could you get me something to clean it with?”



“You’ve got something to clean it with,” she smiled sweetly.



I looked up at her puzzled.



“Your tongue, Fuckmeat. Clean it with your tongue!”



Dismayed, I looked over at Derrick.



“Right now, Fuckmeat. Do what Carla tells you to. Clean it before it leaves a stain!” he demanded.



I nearly retched as I lapped up Ramal’s cum from the floor, convinced now that my degradation was complete.



Finished, I just burst into tears. I was barely aware that Derrick had ordered Carla to “clean my ass” with the solvent she’d brought with her. It burned like fire and I know she intentionally rubbed some of it inside me.

Carla and Ramal left, and Derrick walked over and picked me up off of the floor.



“Derrick,” I sobbed, “You really humiliated me. Why did you do that?”



“Come on, Baby, you pleased me. You passed the test. I know your mine now.” And then he squeezed my tits hard and called them his. It was the perfect thing to say and do.



“You let that awful bitch whip me,” I sniffled.



“It’s okay, Chloe Baby. You’ll whip her soon, too.”



He had called me Chloe and Baby twice now. Not Fuckmeat. I wanted to kiss him and tell him I loved being his property but he wouldn’t let me. I guess it was because he thought some of Ramal’s cum was still in my mouth. I did hesitantly beg him to be more careful with his property. He said he would. I doubted he meant it.



“Listen, Baby,” he said. “I’m having an end-of-year barbeque out of my place next weekend. I want you and Joey to come and I want you find a bikini that will blow everyone away. You look way hot when you came into the dealership today, Baby, but I want you even hotter next weekend. Got it?”



I smiled up at him through still wet eyes. “Got it,” I whispered, so happy to know that he still wanted and appreciated me.



We went downstairs where Joey was waiting, my boobs nearly bouncing out of Derrick’s top on the way down. I hoped the welts on my tits would disappear soon. But I was proud again. I actually missed the marks of Derrick’s ownership on my butt.



When we entered the room where Joey was waiting, the first thing I noticed was Amber with a strap of her camisole dangling down one shoulder exposing nearly all of her breast on that side. Carla was there too with her little miniskirt hiked high up her thigh. Both were obviously flirting with Joey.



“Joey,” Derrick said. “I’m having a little get together next weekend. Try to come by, okay?”



“Oh, do,” Amber said eagerly, bending down in front of Joey, her full breast heaving provocatively in his face. “It’s so much fun there. I know we’ll all have such a great time. Really try, k?”



“I’ll try,” he said, smiling at her. I could see his eyes glued to her chest.



In the car, Joey asked me what I was doing up there, and I told him the lie Derrick had instructed me to tell, that he was urging me to help him convince Joey to take a job with him.



“You were up there alone all that time dressed like that?” he asked.



“No, Carla was there most of the time. “What were you doing with that tramp you were sitting with?” I asked, quickly changing the subject.”



“Amber? I think she was flirting with me,” he laughed, “but I don’t know. She kept saying how hot you were. She said she and Carla were blown away by the way you dressed and carried yourself, and how they both loved how you weren’t at all self-conscious about looking sexy. She said they both thought that if they had a body like yours, they’d always dress like that! So, I guess I’m glad you dressed that way,” he smiled at me. “I like having the hottest woman!”



I knew from what Carla had said earlier that that was the lie Derrick instructed them to tell, but it seemed to have worked. Really worked!



“What do you think about the party at Derrick’s place next week? I think he really wants you to work for him, you know.”



“Yeah, I’ll think about it. He’s not such a bad guy, I guess. We probably should go just to be polite.”



Oh, Joey, you are such an innocent fool, I thought.



“I’ll need a new bikini if you’re going to keep up the image you have,” I grinned. “You know, the guy with the hottest, sexiest chick,” I laughed.



“Yeah, maybe,” he said somewhat seriously. “You sure did look hot today, and I guess that’s what this crowd likes. I loved that those two girls were jealous of you. Maybe Derrick’s got them, but I got these,” he preened, reaching under the tee to fully expose my boobs to the traffic around us. “I say go for it. You’re better looking than any of those chicks. And you’re mine!”



“Better than Amber?” I teased.



“Way, way better,” he beamed.



The Party



I wasn’t sure how little I could get away with bikini-wise, but I knew I had to have something pretty skimpy to please Derrick, and I wasn’t going to find that at any local shop. Plus, I was going to have to get Joey to go along with something that probably was going to be very, very close to total nudity. I thought the best thing to do would be to shop on line and get Joey to participate.



I found a ton of bikinis on line that perfectly fit my growing sexuality, my burgeoning need to exhibit myself in front of powerful men, but one in particular caught my attention. It was a string bikini that was almost entirely string, except for a tiny sliver that would cover little more than the slit in my vagina and two petite patches that would certainly cover no more than my nipples. I could see myself in it, virtually nude for Derrick, exactly the way he had ordered me to dress.



I got Joey to look at it and a few other far less risqué but certainly not modest suits. Joey thought the one I wanted was a bit too much, but he did like one of the others, a string bikini with slightly better coverage. After some discussion about the fun it would be to wear the teeny one I wanted around the house, I ordered it and the another more modest suit that Joey assumed I’d wear to Derrick’s party…and that I hoped I would not be wearing.



I modeled both for Joey after a particularly hot night out, and though he loved the way I looked in the hot little one I wanted to wear and even agreed that it would be awesome for me to wear it to the party, I could tell immediately that he was not going to consent to this when he was sober. I didn’t bring the subject up again, but on the afternoon of the party, I slipped into the outrageous string bikini Derrick would want me in, but covered it with a sarong tied tightly across my bosom. The sarong was sheer enough so that the outline of the bikini was evident on close inspection but not totally out there. I held my breath as I walked out to tell Joey I was ready.



I could see that he knew what I was wearing underneath, but apparently the sarong made him comfortable enough to somewhat hesitantly not object. After all, he must have reasoned, he could always have me keep it on.



It was one of those wonderfully warm, sultry, late afternoon Indian summer days. The drive and street in front of Derrick’s place was packed with cars, many quite expensive, I noticed. I could feel apprehension growing in my chest as I anticipated Derrick’s greeting. I had somehow to let him know that the sarong covered exactly what he had ordered and that it wouldn’t be there for long.



We walked into a vibrant party. People were already dancing to a very good DJ, some of the women quite suggestively. There was a game of volleyball going on in the pool that was really an excuse for horseplay, most of it involving throwing girls up in the air hoping they’d lose their tops in the process. In the first few minutes we were there, I saw that the tactic was more often than not successful!



We wondered about uncomfortably at first, since we didn’t know anyone there. Shortly, though, Amber appeared in a tiny little thong and wet tee shirt.



“I lost my top in the pool,” she giggled to Joey. “Come help me find it! Oh, hi Chloe,” she said over her shoulder, while tugging on Joey’s arm.



The bitch was just so blatant! Joey looked at me in dismay.



“Go help the poor girl,” I said, assuming that this is what Derrick would want me to say.



Not at all reluctantly, it seemed to me, Joey walked off with Amber toward the pool, and shortly after Derrick appeared at my side.



“Amber should keep Joey busy for a while,” said. “You better be wearing very little under whatever that is you have on.



“Maybe you should check and see,” I said sultrily. “It unwraps rather easily!”



I had hoped he would unwrap me right there, but at that very moment, Teri appeared at his side. She looked fantastic, much like she had in school. The pounds she’d shed had come from all the right places, leaving her boobs round and full and her hips and butt sensual and alluring. Her waist was again that school-girl waist she was so proud of in high school. I felt dowdy in this stupid sarong and wanted desperately to strip it off.



“Nice that you could make it, Chloe. Derrick didn’t tell me he’d invited you,” she smirked, obviously impressed with the way she looked.



“I think he actually invited Joey,” I smiled. “He wants to discuss a job with him. I just sort of tagged along. Hope you don’t mind,” I added somewhat aggressively.



“Oh, not all, Chloe,” she smirked again, looking first at her own beautifully displayed body and then at my fully covered one. “Not at all!”



She pulled Derrick away with the need to “meet someone.” The bitch, I thought. I decided to go see where Joey was. I got two large drinks from the bar and set out to find him.



I found Joey sitting at the edge of the pool with a drink already in his hand. Amber had apparently located her top and was again in the pool displaying her ample charms to everyone, but I thought especially to Joey. I sat down beside him. I knew he would never go in the pool. It wasn’t likely that he’d even brought a suit. He was painfully shy about his thin, frail body.



“Everybody seems to be having fun,” I said easily to Joey.



“Yeah, they do,” he answered.



“Amber seems to have developed a crush on you,” I laughed, just as Amber again briefly lost her top.



Joy just laughed. “She sure likes to show her rack!” he exclaimed.



“Yeah, she does, doesn’t she? There are a lot of hot girls here, don’t you think,” I said, nudging him and nodding at Amber. “Maybe she’s afraid of the competition.”



“Yeah, maybe she is and yeah, there are a lot of hot chicks here,” he said, “but none hotter than you!”



“Have you seen Teri?” I asked. “She really looks good. A lot better than when we saw her at the reunion.”



“She looks like she did in high school,” he said, distracted by Amber’s cavorting in the pool. Some big hulk had just thrown her squealing into the air. Her top came apart when she hit the water. I thought she was very slow to refasten it.



“So I guess Derrick’s got his hot body again,” I said. “I guess he won’t be jealous of you now,” I sighed. “A lot of these guys have really hot wives and girlfriends.”



“Yeah, I think a lot of them must have money. You see the cars out front. That’s probably why they’ve got the girls they have.”



“Do you want another drink?” I asked. I really wanted Joey to get maybe just a little less cautious about showing me off. “I’ll go get us a couple more, k?”



“Sure. I’ll be right here.”



I wondered back to the bar, and decided impulsively to retie the sarong about my waist. If nothing else, I could at least show my boobs. I saw two guys give me decidedly admiring looks, and as I waited for our drinks, one of them walked up and asked me my name.



“That’s a pretty sensational top you’re wearing,” he said, openly staring at my boobs. “Not many girls could wear that!”



“Thank you,” I said, not at all modestly. I enjoyed his stares and tried to show him so.



“You here alone?” he inquired.



“No, my husband’s here.”



“You’re married?” he asked. “You don’t look old enough to be married.”



“I’m nearly twenty one,” I said.



“Well, he’s a lucky guy. You’ve got a beautiful smile…and a body to match.”



“Thank you again,” I said hoping to sound mysteriously seductive. “You’re kinda cute yourself.”



I found Joey again and handed him his drink. It was his third, and that seemed enough to make him less startled by my almost bare tits.



“Wow!” he said hesitantly. “I didn’t know you wore that.”



I know he did know. He just didn’t want to acknowledge it yet.



“Do you like it? Do you think I look as hot as Amber now,” I giggled.



I could see he was uncomfortable, so I decided I’d wait until the effect of the next drink hit before trying to get out of the sarong entirely.



As it turned out, I didn’t have to wait at all. The big hulk who had been throwing Amber up in the air decided to do some stupid cannonball right in front of me, completely soaking the sarong.



“Oh my God,” I said, drenched, the sarong now totally transparent and clinging to my body. I looked at Joey in feigned dismay, and took it off to wring it out. Sitting back down, I simply left it by my side to dry. I was finally dressed the way Derrick expected.



“Do you want to take a little dip?” I asked. “It’s kinda hot. I think I will.”



“Nah, you go ahead. I’ll wait her for you. Guard your sarong for you,” he laughed. The drinks seemed to be having a little better effect now.



I smiled at him and slipped into the water. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Amber get out of the pool and walk over to the lounge chairs on the pool deck. A few minutes later, I saw Joey walk over near her and sit in one of the chairs beside her. I waved to him to tell him it was okay.



The horseplay in the pool was all around me now, and I noticed quickly that this bikini was not a “swimsuit.” In the water it covered nothing. I felt someone grab me around the waist, and I turned just in time to see Amber’s hulky bodybuilder throw me up high into the air. Like Amber, I had no idea where my top was after I landed.



The hulk grabbed me again, and this time I flew through the air entirely topless, landing back in Mr. Bodybuilder’s arms.



“Looking for this?” he asked holding what I thought was my top. But it wasn’t. It was my bottom! I realized in an instant that he had somehow managed to totally strip me and that I was now perfectly nude. “Want another ride?”



“Don’t you dare,” I said sternly but playfully. “Are you crazy? My husband is right there! I’m completely naked, you idiot! Give me my bottom!”



“Well, before I do, I guess you’ll just have to let me fuck you!” he said, pulling me closer to him and pushing his legs hard between my thighs. “I’ve been watching you for a half hour and you’re turning me on.”



His huge legs easily pried mine open. He continued to pull me closer, purposely widening my legs to accept his pleasure.



“Stop it!” I said, but again apparently not convincingly. “I told you my husband is right there,” I repeated, glancing over to see if he noticed. Joey did seem to be intently watching, but with a big smile on his face. I was sure he’d seen the topless flight my bodybuilder had given me, and I assumed that was the reason for the grin. Harmless, sexy fun, he would think. He had no idea I was naked beneath the water. Naked, and open, and almost certainly about to be fucked.



The hulk continued to draw my naked body closer to his. I leaned back, hoping to make it obvious that we were only talking, but that only provided the opportunity and position he wanted. My legs were now nearly wholly splayed open and he had his hands on my thighs drawing me nearer and nearer his waiting cock. I was defenseless now, using my arms in a desperate attempt to keep my head above water. When I felt his fat cock breech my labia, I just shook my head at him and splashed water at him.



“You better not get me in trouble!” I hissed, less firmly than I should have. His cock continued unimpeded. I shuddered slightly as he thrust himself entirely inside me, stopped resisting, and let him open me fully.



Now that he was imbedded fully inside me, I peeked quickly over at Joey. Nothing must have seemed amiss, because he simply continued to grin at me.



The hulk’s tempo was increasing and I was having a harder and harder time keeping my head above water, so I finally had to relent and grab his shoulders. There was no point now in resisting at all. I relaxed and surrendered my body fully to him. It must have then been surely quite obvious to everyone directly at poolside that I was being seriously fucked. “Don’t you dare cum in me!” I whispered fiercely in his ear as his cock drove harder and deeper into my loosening sex.



I looked again at Joey only to discover that Amber was diverting his attention. Hate her though I did, I was grateful at the moment that her tits had so enamored my husband. Carla was peering intently at me. But I was beyond caring. I relaxed completely and let Mr. America plunder my sex.



“Don’t cum in me!” I repeated as his tempo signaled his quickly approaching climax. He simply ignored me. When he ejaculated in me, I simply submitted, letting him pull me deep onto his shuddering cock. “You shit!” I said as each spasm splashed more of his seed inside me. “You little shit,” I repeated, trying to look stern but failing miserably. The coy smile on my face probably didn’t help.



Finished with me, he handed me both my top and bottom, told me he’d be “back for more,” and swam away.



As I furtively retied my bikini, it occurred to me that in less than four months four different men had had sex with me. I had gone from an innocent young bride to a shameless slut in that brief time. What was becoming of me?!



I climbed out of the pool, my tiny bikini covering almost nothing at all now, and walked quite arrogantly by Amber. I was sure she was aware of the appreciative stares I was getting, and I made sure they continued as I toweled off as seductively as possible. I should have been nicer. She probably saved my marriage.



I saw that Joey had finished the drink I brought him and was half way through another. The grin on his face told me he was nearing where I wanted him to be. He didn’t seem nervous or awkward with my near nudity now. He was back to pride of ownership! Alcohol had become the catalyst for our sex life.



I told Joey I was going to get a drink and asked him if he wanted another. He said he did, and I set off for the bar to enthusiastic stares from the guys around me. I was extremely aroused. I hadn’t climaxed in the pool, but I was so on the edge of one. It would take no more than a gentle nudge to put me over the edge.



And then, to my erotic delight, I found Derrick there at the bar waiting for me.



“Come with me,” he said, sternly.



“Sure,” I beamed, “but first I have to run this drink over to Joey.”



“Carla’s taking care of that,” he said to my surprise. He grabbed my hand tightly and pulled me to a room just off the cabana. I was sure he wanted to fuck me as much as I now desperately needed him so deep inside me. I needed that one masterful stroke of his incomparable cock to release the pent up climax inside me.



In the room, he turned me toward him and in one quick and viscous thrust, drove his balled fist hard into my stomach. I fell writhing to the floor, gasping for air. He put his foot on my head.



You stupid cunt,” he said furiously. “You fucked that idiot Carl in the pool.”



“No, I didn’t!” I sobbed, gasping for breath.



He dragged me to my feet and struck me again, even harder this time. I thought I’d die. I could not breathe. All I could do was gasp for air.



“Carla saw you, cunt! Your ass and cunt are mine slut! Did you forget that? You fuck no one that I don’t tell you to, got it!” he yelled, pushing his foot down harder on my head.



He reached down and grabbed me by the hair and violently jerked my head off the floor and pulled me to a table in the center of the room, and struck me a third time in my belly.



“Put your tits down on the table, cunt, and reach back and hold your ass cheeks open,” he barked. “I’m going to fuck you in the ass!”



“Derrick, please don’t,” I gasped, trying to suck air into my depleted lungs. “Nobody’s ever done that to me. I know it will hurt. Please don’t,” I sobbingly pleaded.



“What do you think? I’m going to fuck you in your cum-filled cunt, whore? Spread your fucking cheeks, cunt!”



I pulled myself open and instantly suffered the most intense, searing pain I’d even experienced. His cock tore quickly and violently into my ass, rending it immediately. I could feel the tearing as with each deep grunt he drove his frightful cock deeper into my now bleeding rectum. I can only be deeply thankful that in his rage an excitement, he brutally emptied himself inside very quickly.

“Oh baby, you’re not going to make me go to that stupid thing, are you?”



I looked up to see my wife, Janelle, giving me a pouty look.



“Why not, honey? I went to your stupid high school reunion. And that was in Buttfuck, Iowa.”



“Yeah, but at least my friends don’t hate you.”



“My friends don’t hate you.”



“No, they just think I’m a dumb bimbo who somehow seduced you.”



“I can’t see how they could think you’re dumb. You probably make more than all of them combined.”



“Uh huh, I’m sure working on Wall Street really goes over well with your Beatnik crowd. But regardless of anything else, I’m still the dumb, Midwestern, state school girl not a big-city Ivy Leaguer like the rest of you.”



“You’re just being silly. I swear, they don’t think of you like that.”



But, of course, they did. It was my tenth year reunion from Brown. And my friends, all dyed-in-the-wool liberals, still had a lot of weird attitudes about people from ‘flyover country.’ And it didn’t help that Janelle was typecast by her looks. Blond-haired, blue-eyed, and large-breasted she could have easily passed for a party girl. The fact that she had been salutatorian at her high school, earned a full scholarship to University of Rhode Island for grades and music, and worked like a dog her whole life did little to dispel first impressions.



The reaction when I started dating Janelle after meeting her in a Providence bar one summer was mild jealousy from my male friends, and loud disappointment from my female friends. I always figured that getting them together would make them close. They would see she wasn’t just a pretty face, and she would see that my friends were not just East Coast snobs, but it never really worked out.



The truth is, my friends were not snobby per se, but rather a combination of immature, insecure, and emo. My best friend Tara was always whining about not having a boyfriend, but she was also always making fun of how Janelle’s hair and makeup were always perfect. Celeste was always complaining about having a belly, but also made fun of Janelle’s obsessive workout routine.



But damn it, it was my tenth anniversary reunion, and I hadn’t seen the old gang in a while, and I wanted to share the evening with my wife.. and yeah, I liked showing her off as well.



I managed to talk Janelle into going, and actually we had a great day at Homecoming. It was fun seeing the campus again, and I even dropped by to see some old professors. We ran into a few friends, but everybody was mostly flitting about. That evening, we were going to get together for drinks and a dinner. Janelle and I were staying downtown, and made plans to meet up with Tara early at the hotel bar since she’d been working all day.



When I told Janelle the plans, she just sighed.



“What?”



“Tara hates me the most. You know that right?”



“You’re imagining things.”



She shook her head and laughed. “Really, Dave?”



“Look, she’s an old friend.”



“Did you ever sleep with her?”



“Tara? God no.” I hesitated. “What.. are you jealous?”



She laughed. “I sorta wish you had. You know Tara had a crush on you, right? She probably still thinks you’re the one who got away.”



“That’s crazy talk.”



“No, it isn’t. Girls can sense these things. And every time I’ve met Tara it’s been the same thing. She hates me because she thinks I am the cheap slut that stole you from her.”



“Honey, you are far from cheap,” I said with a smirk.



She slapped me. “Just remember, you owe me for this.”



We met at the bar, and Tara was the same Tara as always. Smart and generous, and slightly unkempt and overweight, and funny and whiny all at the same time. She gave Janelle a hug, but both the girls were more than a little stiff. But still we caught up, in a way that you can only do face to face no matter how many Facebook posts you read. Tara was in a dead-end, poorly paid, but emotionally satisfying job with a non-profit. She was still friends with a lot of the old crew. And she was still single.



After a couple of drinks, Tara was going on about how hard it is to meet men. Going on and on and on. I could remember these rants from back in college, and ten years on, they had only gotten longer and more bitter.



Finally, Janelle had enough. “Oh, Jesus, Tara. How is it that you could be a gender studies major and know so little about men? You want to meet a man? All you have to be is available.”



Tara sneered. “Oh sure, if you get all tarted up like a beauty queen, you can. But I’d like to meet a guy who isn’t just looking for a pretty face.”



Janelle looked over at me and shrugged. “I’m going to get a breath of fresh air. Give me your sweater.”



I watched her walk away and then turned back to Tara. “That wasn’t very nice.”



“I’m sorry. But she just doesn’t know what its like. Guys are always falling for girls like her, not matter how bitchy they are.”



“Janelle is not a bitch. She’s the sweetest…”



Tara put her hand on my forearm. “I’m not saying she isn’t,” Tara lied. “I am just saying it is different for normal girls.”



We changed the subject and reminisced about college for a while. Suddenly this woman sat down in Janelle’s seat.



“Hey, that’s my wife’s…”



She looked me in the eyes and giggled.



“Janelle?”



“In the flesh.”



She’d totally changed her appearance. Her hair, usually flowing past her shoulders in golden waves was pulled back into a sloppy bun, the kind women wear to go to Walmart or tend the garden. She’d taken out her contacts, and was wearing her decidedly non-designer glasses. She’d removed her makeup and added some dark circles under her eyes. And wearing my formless sweater made her look downright frumpy.



Tara shot her a dark look. “What is this shit?”



Janelle smiled sweetly. “Let’s do a gender studies experiment. Pick a man in the bar. Any man.”



“Well, sure, you can pick up a guy if you offer to fuck him the bathroom or some shit.”



“Tara, I’m not trying to show you up. I just want to show you something. You pick a guy, and then you can sit next to me. And if I do anything untoward to get his attention, then you call me on it. But I’m going to show you how easy it is to meet men.”



“Honey, let’s not do this,” I interjected.



“Oh come on Dave, it’ll be fun. Just play along.”



I sighed and nodded.



Tara scanned the bar. “That one,” she said, point to a middle aged guy in a suit at the bar. He was a big guy, over six feet tall, and barrel chested. His hair was thinning, but he was clean shaven. Lighter and younger he would probably have been ruggedly handsome. I have no idea why Tara picked him. But she did.



Jenelle instructed us to get seats at the bar next to him, so we could listen in, and then after a few minutes, she followed and squeezed between us and him.



She looked up at a hockey game on TV. “What’s the score?” She asked him.



He looked over at Janelle, and she apparently didn’t make much of an impression. “I dunno,” he said. “Wasn’t really watching the game.”



She continued to watch TV quietly, ostensibly waiting for the bartender to take her order.



The guy turned back toward her. “Are you a hockey fan?”



“Naw,” she replied lightly. “I was just curious.”



“Are you from around her?”



“No, up from New York for the weekend, visiting some friends.”



“Yeah, I’m down Boston on business.”



They talked like that for a while. Idle chit chat. They talked about New York vs. Boston. About work. About the best restaurants in town. His name was Tony and he seemed like a nice guy. Smart and sardonic. There was no overt flirting, not at first. Just two people, comfortable in their own skin chatting.



But then after a while, I guess she grew on him because he started getting more interested. He complimented her eyes — her glasses did little to hide them. She asked him if he worked out. He bought her a couple of drinks. They moved in closer to each other. I started getting uneasy. After a while, he checked his watch and then sighed.



“What’s the matter,” she cooed.



“I… I have to meet some people for dinner. Business.” He paused. She pouted. “But I really like you,” he paused. She smiled. “And well, since we’re both from out of town.”



She looked at him expectantly. He took her hand.



“I’d like to show you a good time,” he finally said, taking her hand and moving it to his crotch.



“Oh my,” she giggled, “is that all you?”



He took out his room key and placed it on the bar. “I need to go. But I’ll be back around 11:00, maybe 11:30. Come visit me. Room 1246.”



“Sounds like fun,” she replied in a sultry voice.



He leaned in and kissed her. A lingering embrace. She returned the kiss.



He walked away. Janelle turned toward us. Tara stared at my wife in shock, and I guess I did too.



She put her hand on my shoulder. “Sorry about the kiss, baby, it happened so fast, and I didn’t see a graceful way out of it.” She waved the key at Tara. “There you go. Nice guy. You picked him. He’s smart and employed. And all I needed to do was ask about a game he wasn’t even watching.”



“Well sure, if all you want is a one night stand.”



Janelle sighed. “There are worse things, you know, especially since I think he’s packing. But it would have been easy to get his number and arrange a date instead. I figured you’d be smart enough to get the point.”



I stepped in at that point. “Girls, girls, please can you two stop bickering? It is like being at home with my parents,” I said trying to lighten things up.



Janelle shook her head. “I’m gonna drop off this thing off at the front desk,” she said pointing to the key, “and go freshen up.”



She came back a few minutes later, once again put together, and returned my sweater. Happily it was time to get going and meet the others, which put an end to Tara and Janelle’s squabbling.



I had a good time that evening, though I was worried about Janelle. We ended up going to this cool Mexican-Japanese fusion place. The food was great, but my friends were being cold fish, especially after Tara circulated what must have been an embellished version of the events in the bar. Janelle ended up excusing herself several times to check out the decorations and the band that was playing out in the garden area. She was pretty quiet, and I could tell she was looking forward to the evening being over. I knew she wasn’t having fun, and I kept meaning to leave when another old friend would suddenly appear. But I figured she’d forgive me.



We went back to the hotel. I’d had a little too much to drink. Given how the evening had gone, I figured I wasn’t going to get any in any case. But she surprised me. When we got into our hotel room, Janelle casually slipped off her jeans and panties and walked around the room in just her clingy sweater while brushing her teeth.



“You look good enough to eat,” I offered.



“You talk too much,” she replied with a smirk.



I dropped to my knees and buried my face in her crotch. In addition to her other charms, Janelle has the tastiest pussy I’ve ever had. She’s always fresh and clean, her juices just a touch tangy. I lapped away for a while as she ran her hands through my hair.



“I want you,” she rasped.



I stumbled back onto the bed, and she roughly tugged at my pants. I was rock hard, and the moment my cock popped out, she was on top of me, impaling herself on my member. We fucked like that for a few minutes until she gasped in passion, collapsing onto my chest.



We slowly shed the rest of our clothes, my dick inside her the whole time, and then resumed our lovemaking in earnest. She was very wet and she fucked me hungrily, pumping her hips eagerly to meet my thrusts, her tongue jamming deep into my mouth. I was drunk enough that it took me a while time to cum, but Janelle didn’t seem to mind even though it went on longer than usual. When I finished, it felt like a dam giving way, and dizzy from drink and exertion I collapsed onto the bed. We cuddled together for a while and drifted off to sleep.



I am not sure what woke me. Sex and booze usually knock me out, but good. But I guess being in a strange bed made me sleep lightly. I looked at the clock. It was 1:30am. I felt next to me and realized Janelle wasn’t there. For a moment, I assumed she was in the bathroom, but then the sound that had woken me popped into my head. It was definitely the door to the hallway. I got up, and yanked on a pair of jeans from the floor.



Sure enough, she wasn’t in the bathroom. And then like a shot, I had a weird vision. The bar. The man. The room key. Room 1246.



I went out into the hallway just in time to hear the elevator door chiming as it shut. I turned, spotted the stairs and sprinted up two flights to the twelfth floor. The door to room 1246 was slowly shutting on its mechanical arm, and I reached out at the last second to stop it from latching shut. I pressed my ear to the door.



“What, what, who is it?” Came a scratchy voice.



I saw the light go on.



“Who are you?” Continued the puzzled voice.



“I thought you were going to show me a good time. Sorry I’m late,” Janelle answered.



I hear him sit up on his bed. “Damn, girl, you clean up nice.”



I cracked the door open. She’d moved out of the entrance and into the bedroom. The room was lit, but dimly. He must have only had the reading light on over this bed. I slid inside and silently shut the door. I got down on my knees and crawled a few feet to get a view into the room. He was sitting on his bed, in his boxers, and she was standing before him in a short, thin, hotel robe which she holding together at the waist. Wordlessly, she released her grip, letting the robe come open, exposing her generous cleavage and closing trimmed blond muff.



“If I’d know you were hiding a body like that, I’d have ditched my dinner plans,” he said with a smile.



She stepped closer. Tony reached out and slid a finger up her inner thigh, and when she didn’t flinch, he pressed it up inside her. She gasped softly, her hips swaying sexily. He pulled out and rubbed his fingertips together.



“Somebody’s been a naughty girl already.”



She grinned saucily.



He pressed his finger into her mouth and she licked it clean. He pumped his finger back into her snatch several times, each time pulling out and feeding her a cocktail of her juices and my cum, which she swallowed eagerly. It was a sexy show, and Tony was enjoying it enough that he was stroking his rapidly thickening member through his boxers.



“Why did you think I’d appreciate sloppy seconds?” He asked.



She smirked. “I’ve never known a man to turn down a well-lubed hole.”



He laughed and pressed a second finger into her pussy. “You’re a hot little slut, aren’t you?”



“Let me see what you’re rubbing,” she replied in a sultry tone.



As he pulled down his shorts, his cock sprang out, standing at attention in his lap. It wasn’t some porno-style stunt cock, but he was definitely well-endowed.



“Mmmm, that’s a lovely prick,” cooed my wife as she dropped to her knees between his thighs.



Janelle is a world class cock-sucker. I hate to think about how she became that way. But the truth is, she could give lessons, and now she proceeded to pull out all the stops for Tony.



She started by licking his rod all over, getting it nice and wet, as she massaged his balls with her hands. Then she switched, sucking his sack into her mouth as he squished her hands up and down his thick shaft. She licked her way back up the underside of his cock, and then circled his cockhead with her tongue.



“Fuck, that’s good,” he growled, running his hands through her silky hair.



But she was just getting started. She took him deep into her mouth and bobbed her head up and down as her hands continued to caress his shaft and balls. He began pumping his hips, trying to force himself deeper into her throat, but he was too big to fit all the way.



She rose up and kissed his belly, and then leaned forward and pressed his cock between her teardrop breasts, fucking his cock with her tits.



She looked him in the eyes. “If I finish you off, will you be able to get hard again to fuck me?”



“Baby, my dick’ll get hard just being in the same room as you.”



She pumping his cock between her tits a few more times, and then rubbed his cockhead against each of her nipples in turn, coating them with his pre-cum. Then she dropped down again and swallowed him deeply, fucking his dick with her mouth. He was moaning louder now, obviously getting close. Keeping his cockhead in her mouth, she started pumping his shaft roughly, wetly with both hands.



“Oh God,” he growled loudly. His hand grabbed a firm handful of her hair and held her in place. Not that he needed to because Janelle was eagerly sucking down his seed all on her own. I could see her swallowing gob after gob as he twitched repeatedly in passion.



When he was finally done, she straightened up, her hands still gently fondling his shaft.



“How long were you saving that up?” She giggled.



He laughed. “A few days. Maybe more, I guess.”



“That’ll be enough protein to last me a week,” she replied. Though she immediately belied that comment by swooping down and lapping up every stray drop of jism that appeared from his slit.



He softened noticeably, and Janelle took the opportunity to swallow him whole, taking him balls deep into her mouth. She worked his cock slowly. Long, deep, wet strokes that quickly brought him back online. In less than five minutes, his member was again rigid, jutting out proudly.



“I need it inside me,” she hissed and climbed into his lap.



He grabbed her hips and roughly impaled her on his cock. She threw back her head and gasped loudly.



“God, you’re big,” she moaned as she ground into him.



They fucked hard. He was a powerful man, bouncing her up and down on his cock like a ragdoll. His hands were all over her. He squeezed and slapped her ass, pulling the cheeks apart and tickling her asshole. He mauled her breasts, sucking her nipples into his mouth until the areolae were puffy, wet, and swollen. He kissed her hard, jamming his tongue into her mouth, and bit her neck hard enough to leave marks.



And she loved it. She was squealing like a porn star, grinding her hips into him to meet his thrusts, her arms wrapped around his head, her eyes shut tight in concentration.



Without warning he grabbed her by the ass and flipped her onto her back on the bed. She obligingly pulled her knees to her chest, her feet pointed toward the ceiling, opening herself completely for him. He climbed on top and began to jackhammer his thick cock into her pretty little snatch.



Her high-pitched squeals were soon joined by his loud grunts. Then the mattress began squeaking as they bounced up and down. And finally, the headboard began banging against the wall. From next door came a muffled voice, and a the sound of a palm slapping the wall urging them to keep it down.



Janelle and Tony burst out laughing.



“Something different?” she asked through giggles.



“Let me take you from behind,” he suggested.



He disentangled from between her legs, and she leaned forward and loudly slurped his slimy cock into her mouth several time before flipping back over onto her hands and knees. Her pretty little ass waved back and forth as he repositioned himself. Grabbing an ass cheek in each of his beefy paws, he thrust hard and buried himself in her swollen pussy.



“Ooof,” she gasped, throwing her head back.



Releasing her ass, he grabbed a thick handful of her hair and began hammering away, the sounds of their slapping flesh now filling the room. She was grunting and squealing, and her large breasts were swaying wildly beneath her.



He leaned forward and let a thick gob of spit drip down into her butt crack.



“Ewww,” she exclaimed. “Why’d you…”



But before she could complete the question, he answered it, coating his thumb in saliva and plunging it into her ass.



She growled ferally and began to shudder in passion.

Prologue



The following is an exact account of actual events as told to me by Mrs. Jacobs. I should know these are true because I am her therapist… or was. She came to see me almost a year ago. Her husband was cheating on her so she did what many women do in such circumstances. She decided to get revenge and, like most women that seek revenge, was confused about where her life was headed and what she should do next.



As I do with many of my patients I used hypnosis on Mrs. Jacobs so that she could recall exactly what happened down to the smallest detail. You may laugh, but believe me it works. These are the transcripts of the recordings I made during the sessions with her. At the first session I took Mrs. Jacobs back to the moment that she first learned of her husband’s infidelity.



Session 1, Mrs. Jacobs under Hypnosis – Transcript



It is Tuesday evening and Dave is not yet home. Subconsciously I am glad he is working late again. These are my private moments. I need them. Between looking after the kids from early in the morning, rushing to my job at the law firm, trying to keep up with community volunteer work and finally getting the kids to bed, I am exhausted.



My husband is a very successful partner in the law firm where I work. We live well, but I hardly ever see him. He comes home past ten several nights each week, and works most weekends. Billable hours are what they call it and my husband is addicted. At least that’s what he tells me. I often wonder if he is having sex with some of the pretty young secretaries. He hardly ever touches me anymore.



My routine is more or less the same. I put on a skimpy nightie and pull out one of my favorite X-rated DVDs from our collection. The collection has become quite large during our 10 years of marriage. It is a carryover from when we were dating. Dave liked to take me to drive-ins where X-rated movies were playing and fuck me in the backseat. I liked it too and felt nasty doing it.



I pull out a rubber cock and a vibrator from the bedside stand. I avoid touching my pussy for as long as I can but it becomes harder to do with each steamy scene. I squeeze my tits and play with my nipples. I can feel pussy juice seeping down my ass. When the girl on the screen has a cock in her pussy and another in her mouth I can no longer help myself.



My hand moves between my legs. A finger slides up my juicy gash and finds my clit. I rub it in circles. I push two fingers into my cunt and rub them against the smooth wet walls. I feel pressure building in my belly me so I back off. I want the pleasure to last. I watch her devouring the cock in her mouth while the other one pounds her pussy and wonder what it would be like to have two men at the same time.



The girl on the screen is screaming. The cocks that are fucking her pussy and mouth are huge. I need something bigger inside me, something that will fill the emptiness in my belly. I rub the head of the rubber cock up and down my slit until it is lodged in the opening to my cunt. I moan when it plunges inside, stretching my pussy and filling the void.



Now she is getting fucked in the pussy and ass at the same time. It is something I have never tried but I find it exciting to watch… so dirty and nasty! My rubber friend fucks me faster and deeper. It feels so incredibly good. I pull my knees up and pinch my nipples. My breathing is fast, my heart is pounding. I bite my lip. My body tenses. My pussy clenches. I cum. It’s a good one, but not the big one. For that I need my vibrator.



I put the rubber cock into my mouth. The girl on TV is about to get blasted with two loads of hot cum. Sometimes Dave shoots all over my face… or he used to anyway. I miss the feel of warm cum splashing against my skin. The girl gets drenched while I continue to suck my rubber friend. I like the taste of my own pussy. I’ve never tasted another woman but have fantasized about it often.



My pussy wants more. I pick up my electric fuck machine. On the TV a tiny blond is sucking a huge black cock that she can barely fit into her mouth. I have never been fucked by a black cock, but it is a recurring fantasy of mine. I rub the vibrator across my pussy and clit to get it ready. When she mounts his monster I push it into my cunt.



I feel the ridges of the thick shaft rotate against the walls of my pussy. The little finger at the top vibrates against my hard clit. The sensations shooting through me are incredible. I rotate it around inside me and imagine that the big black cock is in my cunt instead of hers. Several times I have to back off. I want this one to last.



Before I can finish the front door opens. Dave is home. I scramble to hide the tools and turn off the TV as if I had something to hide. I don’t know why I’m embarrassed to let him see me getting off. It might make him want to fuck me, and right now I need to get fucked badly. My pussy is crying for relief.



He climbs into bed and I do something I haven’t done in years. I attack him. Before he can react I have his cock in my mouth. He tries to push me away but it is too late. I can still taste pussy juice on his shaft. He didn’t even use a condom or bother to clean himself. I should be disgusted, hurt, angry… but I don’t. I feel a tinge of excitement at tasting another woman, especially one my husband has fucked.



It doesn’t take long for me to get him hard. I use all the oral skills developed when we were younger just to remind him of what he has been missing at home. I nibble on his sensitive crown and take him down my throat. I lick his balls and suck them into my mouth one at a time. It is time to give my pussy its reward.



I climb on top and push his cock into my juicy hole. I feel him go deep. I fuck him intensely, lifting up and driving down on his shaft over and over. My breathing is hard. Gasps and moans escape from my throat. My breasts bounce back and forth in front of his face. I use my finger to rub my clit.



Dave is getting into it now only, as usual, he wants to be in control. He flips me over onto my back, pushes my knees to my shoulders and buries his weapon deep into my cunt. I can feel myself losing control as he pounds into me again and again and again. Filth begins to spew from my mouth just like it used to when we were younger.



“Fuck me… harder… oh god… fuck my cunt… yes… shove your big cock up my pussy… oh fuck… here I cum… oh shit… oh… oh…”



It is the big one I wanted earlier. My fingernails dig into his skin. I throw my head back and bite my lip. I can feel his cock spear into my cunt as the pressure in my belly peaks. I scream just as my pussy explodes, drenching both of us in a sheen of cunt juice.



Dave continues to pound my pussy and I continue to cum. When I can’t stand it any longer I push him off me, get on my knees and suck his juicy meat into my mouth. I know he can’t last forever no matter how many times he fucked his whore at work before coming home.



My jaw is sore but I can tell he is close. I feel like such a slut fucking a man who has just finished fucking another woman. I tell myself that he is not my husband, just a big cock for a cock-hungry slut. I like being a slut. I want his warm cum to splash on my face just like the girl on TV.



I suck his knob while I jerk him off with my hand. I feel his cock swell. I aim it at my face and feel the warm juice splatter across my lips and nose. Cum splashes over my forehead and drips down my eyebrows. A final spurt lands in my hair. I take him back into my mouth and suck him until he goes soft.



Session 1 – Therapist Notes



Never had a patient delved into such intimate details of her sexual encounters. Despite my attempts at objectivity I quickly became aroused as I listened to her confession. I tried to ignore my problem but it became impossible when Mrs. Jacobs pushed a hand under her skirt and slipped it into her panties.



Mrs. Jacobs was squirming on the couch and moaning as she continued to talk about the night she discovered her husband’s infidelity. She moved a hand under her blouse and squeezed her breasts. Watching her masturbate right in front of me while weaving this incredibly sexy tale was more than I could handle.



I pulled my hard member from my trousers and wrapped my hand around it. Just as she finished telling me about how her husband had ejaculated on her face Mrs. Jacobs stiffened and let out a squeal. Her body jerked and thrashed in spasms. For a second I was afraid she was going to pull herself out of the hypnotic trance but there was nothing I could do for just then my own release exploded and splattered across the floor.



I quickly cleaned the mess and stuffed my member back into my pants. I was able to slowly bring Mrs. Jacobs out of her trance. After questioning her I was quite sure that she did not remember anything that had happened during the session. In fact, she said that she already felt better so that whatever I was doing must be working. I told her that this was often the case when a patient opens up during hypnosis.



We made an appointment for the following week.



Session 2, Mrs. Jacobs under Hypnosis – Transcript



It is Thursday. At work I look at the young women in the office so eager to get ahead and wonder which one Dave is fucking. He’s probably banging more than one. I should have known better when I married him. After all, I was just another of his sexual conquests when we met. He fucked me up against the wall in the supply room and then asked me out on our first date.



I’m not angry. I should be, but I already know I’m going to get even. I’ve suspected his infidelity for a long time but I didn’t want to know because I didn’t want to have to do something about it. Now I’m ready. I just want to know who he’s fucking, that’s all. I want to know whose pussy I have been tasting when I suck his cock.



It happened again last night. When he came home I attacked him in the kitchen, dropped to my knees, pulled down his pants and sucked his cock into my mouth. The fresh taste of pussy was strong. He knew I knew and he was flaunting it. I didn’t complain. After all, my husband fucked me two nights in a row… something that hasn’t happened since we were in the islands.



At lunch I go upstairs to the oil and gas department to check out the women that work with Dave. There is a new girl… young, dark hair, great body. I introduce myself. Melanie drops her eyes and stutters. She is the one. I insist on taking her to lunch. She reluctantly agrees. We make small talk. She won’t look at me. She is nervous. I wait for the right moment to say what I came to say.



“So how long have you been fucking my husband, Melanie? Please don’t try to deny it. I could taste your pussy on his cock when he came home last night. Yes, I still suck my husband’s cock and he still fucks me in case you were wondering.”



I see the tears in her eyes. She wants to say something but the words won’t come out. A mumbled apology finally spills off her lips.



“Let’s go someplace more private to talk about it, okay?”



She shakes her head up and down. I lead her down the hall to an empty office. I lock the door. Melanie leans against the edge of the desk. She is still crying. I step in front of her and take her hands.



“There’s nothing to be sad about, dear. Dave is a big-time lawyer and you’re just a young vulnerable secretary out to impress him. Besides, he does have a nice big cock, doesn’t he? I don’t blame you, Melanie. He’s the asshole.”



She smiles at me sheepishly as I wipe away a tear from her eye. I slide my hand to her cheek and gently caress it in a motherly manner. I realize that I want her. I have never been with another woman but it has always been a fantasy. I want to caress and feel and kiss and taste the woman my husband has been fucking. I lean forward and whisper to her with my face only inches away.



“There’s one thing Dave forgot to tell you, dear. We share everything… and I mean everything.”



Our lips meet. She doesn’t pull away but is hesitant. My mouth opens. I push my tongue between her lips. My hands move to her full tits. I squeeze them with my fingers. She is so soft. I find my body reacting to being with another woman. My panties get damp and my nipples swell under my blouse.



Slowly she responds to my kiss. Her mouth opens and her tongue moves against mine. She puts her hand on my shoulder. I unbutton her blouse while we continue to kiss. I reach behind and unsnap her bra. My hands squeeze and caress the naked flesh of her soft breasts. Her hard nipples are sensitive to my touch. We break our kiss.



“I… I’ve never done this before,” she mumbles shyly. “Not with another woman I mean. I’m not sure its right, Mrs. Jacobs.”



“Fucking my husband wasn’t right either,” I reply, “but I bet it felt good. I could taste your pussy on his cock last night. I liked it. I want to taste your pussy without his cock.”



“I’m… um… not so sure that is a good idea Mrs. Jacobs. Besides, I have to get back to work.”



Melanie tried to pull away but I held her there. She was hiding something and I wanted to find out what it was.



“Not so fast,” I said, “Not if you want to keep your job.”



She stopped struggling. Her pleading eyes looked at me. I could see fear. I slid my hand under her skirt and up her thigh. She bit her lip and turned her eyes away. My hand reached the crotch of her panties. They were soaked and sticky. I slipped my fingers under the crotch. Her pussy was a mess. She had been recently fucked.



“I… I’m sorry Mrs. Jacobs. I told you not to.”



I loaded up my fingers with cum still in her pussy and sucked them into my mouth.



“Well aren’t we full of surprises. A wife knows the taste of her husband’s cum. So Dave was doing some dictation today. How long ago did he fuck you?”



“Um… well, I was just coming from his office when you showed up. I… I couldn’t help myself, Mrs. Jacobs. I need this job. My husband doesn’t work.”



So she is married. She doesn’t look more than nineteen. Part of me feels sorry for her. I know how persuasive Dave can be when he turns on the charm. It is why he is such a successful lawyer. I am actually excited to know that the first pussy I will taste is filled with my husband’s cum.



I squat in front of her and pull down her cum soaked panties. Her pussy is shaved and puffs out from between her legs like a swollen peach. Glistening pink lips with drops of cum peek out from gash down the middle. I press my lips against her sex and clamp my mouth around her swollen mound. She gasps when my tongue pushes into her cum-filled chamber.



The taste of my husband’s cum mixed with juices from her pussy is intoxicating. I suck and slurp her sweet fruit aggressively and with passion. She spreads her legs and puts her hands on the back of my head. My thumb rubs her clit. I pull my mouth from her cunt and thrust two fingers deep inside. I know exactly the right places to touch.



Melanie is breathing in gasps and moans. I take my thumb away from her clit and replace it with my tongue. My fingers continue to dig around inside her cunt. I can feel her tense. Her legs are shaking. Her fingers dig into my scalp.



“Oh… oh… oh… oh… uuuuuuuhhhhhh… uuuuunnnngggghhhhhh…”



I pull out my fingers and clamp my mouth over her gushing pussy. She bucks hard against my face. Her whole body is shaking. Her knees buckle. Cunt juice flows into my mouth and coats my thrusting tongue. I continue to munch and lick her quivering sex until she finally pushes me away with shaking hands.



I stand and press my lips against hers. Melanie throws her arms around me and opens her mouth. This is a woman desperate to taste the juices of her passion. My fingers slide between her legs and rub her clit. She shudders with a second release. We continue to kiss. I guide her hand between my legs. Her fingers find my pussy through a pair of damp panties.



I lean against the desk and push down on her shoulders. Melanie squats in front of me. I lift my skirt and pull the crotch of my panties to the side. Her face moves between my legs. I feel her tongue flick across my pussy and push into my steamy passage. Her mouth opens around my swollen mound.



I put my hands on her head and fuck her tongue. My body is on fire. My nipples are burning. The same mouth that has been sucking my husband’s cock is now eating my pussy. It all seems so nasty and forbidden. I can feel pressure in my belly. I am going to cum in her mouth.



She touches my clit with her finger. Her tongue pushes in and out of my steamy opening. I reach under my blouse and pinch my swollen nipples. My breathing becomes erratic. I grind my pussy against her face. My head is spinning. My legs begin to shake. The pressure in my belly releases in a surge of pleasure that explodes from my opening. I hear a scream pierce the air and am vaguely aware that it must be mine.



I have always been a gusher. I can feel my juices filling her mouth. She keeps her lips clamped around my pussy. Her tongue continues to fuck me. A second wave of spasms grips my body. More juices pour into her mouth. I put my hands on her head and buck hard against her face. At last I am finished. She stands and kisses me on the lips. Our tongues share my cum which is still pooled in her mouth.



“Um… are you going to tell him, Mrs. Jacobs? Your husband I mean. You know, about us. I don’t want to get in trouble. My husband will kill me if I lose this job.”



“Not as long as you do what I say. I’m going to need your help on a few things. Oh… and you can keep fucking him. I like the taste of your pussy on his cock.”



Session 2 – Therapist Notes



Once again the graphic descriptions that Mrs. Jacobs used to describe her sexual encounters had me quickly aroused. My hand was rubbing my bulge as I watched her squirm on the couch while fingering her sex. I could feel my willpower slowly dissipating . I walked to the front of the couch and looked between her spread legs where her fingers were furiously digging into her body underneath her panties.



Throwing all professional judgment to the wind I slid onto the couch and moved my head between her legs. I could smell the aroma of her sex and could hear the faint squishing sounds her fingers were making inside her body. I pulled the crotch of her panties to the side and gently removed her hand. My tongue shot out and flicked across the folds of her sex before pushing into her steamy hole.



Mrs. Jacobs put her hands on the back of my head and pulled my lips tight against her swollen mound. She continued with her story between gasps and moans. I licked and slurped on Mrs. Jacob’s juicy peach until I could feel her tremble. Her fingers dug into my scalp. She bucked hard against my face and cried out the words, “Melanie, I’m cumming.” Seconds later an incredible amount of juice gushed into my mouth.



Mrs. Jacobs did not remember anything when I brought her back from the trance other than to say that once again she felt so much better and that the hypnosis must be working. We made an appointment for the following week, and then I ran to the bathroom to relieve the pressure in my testicles.



Session 3, Mrs. Jacobs under Hypnosis – Transcript



It is Saturday. He’s working again this weekend. It’s okay. This afternoon I plan to get fucked. It will be the first time since we were married that another man has put his cock in my pussy. Well, Bobby’s not exactly a man, but he is a grown boy. I am perfectly comfortable with doing it. I’ll carry no guilt and have no regrets. And I’ll do it again and again.



Last night Dave came home with pussy on his cock. I could tell he wanted me to suck him by the way he kissed me when he came through the door. I dropped to my knees right there in the entrance foyer, pulled out his cock and slid it between my lips. It didn’t taste like Melanie. He was fucking someone else and he wanted me to know. He knew it would get me excited. It was becoming an unspoken game.

He picked me up, slammed me face first against the wall, pulled my jeans down to my knees and drove his cock into my pussy between my ass cheeks. I came almost immediately. He continued to recklessly pound his cock into my pussy until I came a second time. Moments later I felt him flood my cunt with hot cum.



The kids are both out with friends for the next few hours. I hear the doorbell ring. It is Bobby from up the street. He has just finished with the yard work and wants to get paid. As usual he is not wearing a shirt. I let my eyes wander across the sweaty torso of his well-toned 18 year-old body. I invite him in for a drink while I look for my purse.



I am dressed in a pair of tight white shorts and a red shirt tied just below my tits. The shirt is buttoned down to show enough cleavage to pique his interest. Without a bra my hard nipples punch two dimples in the front of the shirt. He follows me back to the kitchen. I put an extra sway in my walk to draw attention to my shapely ass. I know I have a killer body and I am quite sure he has lusted after me in the past.



My purse is on the floor. I bend over and pretend that I am looking for money. My shorts ride up my ass cheeks and expose the puffy outer edges of my panty-less pussy. I shift my cheeks back and forth and spread my legs further apart. I say something about not being able to find anything in my purse so I can hold the pose a little longer.



At last I stand up and turn around to face him. My nipples have grown harder and are shamelessly poking out from my blouse. I look up at him and put a hand on his bare chest. I can see he is nervous.



“Bobby, I’m afraid I don’t have any money. Can you think of another way I might pay you?”



I place my other hand on his bare chest and step closer. He is looking around for an escape but I am not going to give him any. I rub my hands over his chest and my thumbs across his sensitive nipples. His cock must be hard. I lower a hand and confirm my suspicions. My fingers caress the length of his bulge through his shorts.



“My goodness, Bobby, that’s quite a weapon you have there. May I see it?”



“Um, Mrs. Jacobs, um maybe we shouldn’t do this. I mean someone might come by or something.”



“Don’t be silly, Bobby. No one is going to come by. Besides, how else am I going to pay for the yard work?”



I drop to my knees and quickly pull the shorts down his muscular thighs. Out springs a beautiful cock the length of Dave’s but thicker. I slide my lips over the swollen tip and swirl my tongue around the smooth skin. I push my lips down his shaft and take his hard meat deep into my mouth. My tongue explores the ridges and veins of his throbbing member. I take him even deeper until I feel him pushing into my throat.



Bobby doesn’t have a chance. He has never had a girl suck cock like this. My lips press against his pubes while my throat vibrates against the head of his cock. I pull him out and take him deep once again. Then I fuck him with my mouth. I bob my head rapidly up and down his shaft making loud sucking and slurping sounds and drooling spit everywhere. When I feel his shaft swell I put my fingers against his scrotum and push.



Hot cum explodes into my mouth in a powerful and steady spray. I move my lips up his shaft holding just the knob of his cock in my mouth. Another jet of cum blasts into my mouth and then another. I take him back down my throat as the last few drops of seed dribble out of his cock. I feel cum leaking from the corners of my mouth onto my blouse. I continue to suck him until his cock softens. I pull him from my mouth and swallow.



“Now that was a man sized load of cum. Have you been saving that for me Bobby? I really do appreciate it but now I have a problem. My pussy is all gooey and has made a mess of my shorts, and I have this big wet spot on my blouse. I’m afraid I’m going to have to take them off.”



I quickly strip and sit on countertop with my legs spread. Bobby is in front of me staring with his shorts still around his knees and his semi-erect cock hanging between his legs. I spread the lips of my pussy and rub my clit with my finger. I push a finger up my cunt and suck it into my mouth.



“Mmmmmmm… so good. Why don’t you come over here and taste my pussy? I mean it’s only fair after what I did for you. Come on, Bobby.”



I lean back on the countertop and pull my legs up so my pussy is fully exposed. Bobby steps forward and buries his head between my legs. I put my hands on the back of his head and push against his mouth. I feel his tongue probing up and down my gash. The tip pushes into my opening and licks me in rapid swipes.



“Oooohhhh yes. Just like that baby. Use your fingers.”



I am going to cum. I fuck his face while his fingers give my pussy a workout. The pressure in my belly continues to build. My breathing is heavy. His tongue swirls around my sensitive clit. My body tenses just before my pussy explodes. I scream. My fingers dig into his scalp. I feel juices running down my ass.



I pull his face to mine and kiss his lips to savor the juices of my passion. I reach down between his legs and confirm that his cock has grown back to full hardness. I guide the swollen tip between the lips of my pussy and slot it into the opening.



“Fuck me, Bobby. Fuck me with your big young cock.”



He pushes. For the first time since I was married another man’s cock slides into my pussy. I gasp as his hard meat sinks deep into my cunt. I hook my heels on his ass and pull him deeper. He fucks me hard and fast. I rub my clit. My gasps and squeals are desperate. I am going to cum.



“Yes… yes… fuck me Bobby… oh god… harder… yes… oh… oh… right there… oh god… of fuck… ah… ah… UUUUUNNNNGGGHHHH…”



He continues to hammer my pussy. I cum again and again. At last I push him away and drop to the floor. I suck his slimy cock into my mouth and down my throat until my lips are pressed against his pubes. Then I stand and turn my back to him with my elbows on the counter and my ass tilted in the air. Bobby wastes no time in putting his cock back into my searing cunt.



I cum again. My legs shake. My screams are out of control. Juices are streaming down my thighs. His balls slap wetly against my clit as he repeatedly hammers my cunt with his hard young cock. Nothing has ever felt so good. I am addicted.



“Squeeze my tits, Bobby… ooooohhhhhh… pinch my nipples… uh… of fuck…”



His strong hands crush the soft flesh hanging from my chest. I reach between my legs and rub my clit in circles. I am delirious with pleasure. The explosion building in my belly is so strong I am frightened to let it burst. Then he pinches my nipples hard between his thumb and finger. It is like a trigger connected directly to my pussy.



“Oh fuck… oh fuck… AAAAAHHHHHH… UUUUUNNNNNNGGGGHHHH…”



An explosion of pleasure as intense as anything I have known makes my entire body tense and jerk violently. His cock continues to pound my gushing cunt sending a second and third wave of gushing spasms though my body. My knees feel like they are going to buckle. Just when I think I might get back on this planet I feel hot cum pouring into my cunt.



“AAAAAHHHHHH… MMMMPPPPPPPPHHHHH… OOOOOOOOOOOOOO…”



I am collapsed face down on the counter when Bobby pulls his cock from my twitching cunt. A flood of creamy juice pours from my body and splatters on the floor between my legs. I finally muster the energy to stand up and face my new fuck toy.



“Thank you for stopping by, Bobby. This will be our little secret. I won’t tell your mother what you did as long as you come by when I ask and help me out around the house.”



Session 3, Therapist Notes



During this session I used all of my willpower to remain seated until she had finished telling me about having sex with Bobby. I found it difficult to do nothing as I watched her squirm against her fingers and then explode into her panties when she described each of her orgasms. My erections felt like it was about to rip through my trousers.



It was time to bring her out of the trance but this time I was going to give her a hypnotic suggestion. I didn’t know if it would work. I also knew it was a dangerous game I was playing and that it could cost me my license but I was obsessed with this woman.



“Mrs. Jacobs,” I told her, “I want you to think about how angry you are at Dave for fucking all those whores at the office. Then I want you to imagine Dave sitting in that chair over there watching you. He cannot move and he cannot turn his eyes away.”



Mrs. Jacobs turned her head and looked over at the empty chair. When she said, “Hello Dave” I knew she was really seeing him there in her subconscious. I and moved over to the couch and pushed down my trousers and waved my rigid member in her face.



“You see a cock in front of your face,’ I explained. “You do not know whose it is and you don’t care. You want to punish Dave. You want him to see what a slut you have become. You will suck the cock like it is the best cock your have ever tasted and you will swallow every drop of cum that it pumps into your mouth.”



I brushed the head against her lips. She flicked her tongue over my swollen knob before taking my shaft deep into her mouth. Her eyes remained focused on the empty chair. She bobbed her head up and down swirling her tongue over the sensitive ridges of my manhood. I thrust it in and out between her lips. Mrs. Jacobs moved a hand between her legs and rubbed her sex.



“I’m going to cum in your mouth, Mrs. Jacobs, while Dave watches. When I am finished I want you to swallow all of it. When you wake up you will not remember any of this.”



Mrs. Jacobs attacked me with renewed energy. I could feel my shaft slide down her throat. Spit was drooling from her lips. I slammed into her mouth again and again. I felt my member swell from the rush of seamen surging up my shaft. I grabbed her head and grunted, then exploded inside her mouth like a volcano. My testicles pumped so much into her that it began to drool from her lips.



I finally pulled out completely drained and stuff my spent shaft back into my trousers. I watched Mrs. Jacobs close her mouth and swallow, all the time looking over at the empty chair. She continued to rub her sex until her body stiffened. I watched her jerk and gasp with a final orgasm. I wiped the excess seamen from her lips and chin and slowly brought her out of the trance.



She did not remember any of it. The hypnotic suggestion had worked. Mrs. Jacobs told me that she felt even better after this session than she had after previous sessions and asked me what had happened to make her feel this way. I told her that it was best she not know what her subconscious was telling me and then made an appointment for the following week.



Session 4, Mrs. Jacobs under Hypnosis – Transcript



It is Sunday afternoon. John is at the office and the kids are with friends. I am at the hardware store on the other side of town. My tiny red skirt and tight white top attract a lot of stares. I am shameless and just hope nobody I know sees me. It is exciting to walk around like this and have men wondering what it would be like to fuck me. My thongs are getting soaked in the crotch.



I find my target on aisle 4. Two good looking men about thirty-five do little to hide their lewd stares. One is an attractive athletic looking black man about 6’2″. The other is shorter and white. His bulging muscles stretch his t-shirt to the limit. I see a wedding band on his left hand. I sway over to where they are standing with a “fuck me” look on my face.



“Can you two good looking guys help a poor woman in distress? I have a problem with my plumbing and my husband is not home to fix it.”



We leave with my hands wrapped around each of their arms. Everyone is staring and knows I am about to be fucked. I am also about to live out two of my fantasies at the same time… getting double fucked and fucking a black man. I get into the silver pick-up and slide between them on the bench seat.



Marv, the tall black man, is driving. The truck pulls out. I have no idea where we are going. Chuck puts his arm around me. Our lips meet in a hot and wet kiss. His strong fingers crush my breast through the thin white top. He pushed it up over my tits and pulls on my swollen nipples. His tongue pushes into my ear driving me crazy.



We stop at a light and the car next to us honks. I look over and realize the driver has a perfect view of my naked tits. We make eye contact. Chuck moves his hand under my skirt and presses his fingers into the soaked crotch of my thongs. I bite my lower lip and gasp, never losing eye contact with the other driver. I realize for the first time that it excites me to have someone watch.



The light turns and we are moving again. I feel his thick finger push into my steamy chamber and then a second. I slide down in the seat and hump against his fingers which are thrusting in and out of my quivering sex. My hand moves over to Marv’s lap and rubs the bulge growing in his trousers. The size of it makes me wonder if the myth about black men is really true.



Chuck’s fingers are driving me crazy. He finds my clit and rubs it just the right way. I gasp and squirm in the seat. He keeps rubbing and fingering me until I have to squeeze my legs together and push him away because the pleasure is too intense. He feeds me his fingers and I eagerly lick them clean. He pushed down his pants and exposes a thick cock with a slight curl and a bulging purple head.



I am staring at his weapon when I feel his hand on the back of my neck. I follow his lead until his hard flesh brushes against my lips. I lick the bulbous knob like an ice cream cone all around the top and then under the crown. I finally take him into my mouth stretching my lips until he fits inside.



I have no idea where we are, but the thought of giving a blowjob to a complete stranger in the front seat of a truck in broad daylight is exiting. I use my well groomed oral skills on his swollen meat until he is groaning and squirming in his seat. Marv drops a hand from the steering wheel and slides it up between my thighs. I spread my legs to give him better access and soon feel his huge fingers push into my pussy.



I keep Chuck on edge as long as I can by pulling off him and backing away twice when he is about to cum. The third time he holds my head down on his cock. He fucks it rapidly between my lips and grunts. I feel him swell just before a hot spray of thick cream fills my mouth. He continues to cum again and again until it is seeping from my lips and back down his cock.



At last he is finished. I sit up and look at him with my mouth open and his seed dripping from my lower lip. I swirl my tongue in the potent mixture before closing my mouth. I swallow. I look over at Marvin and realize he has pulled out his cock. It is huge with coal black skin stretched around a vein streaked shaft.



I drop my head to his lap and explore his swollen shaft with my lips and tongue, probing each ridge and valley of his black monster. I take him into my mouth until he is pushing against my throat. My lips are only a third of the way down his shaft. I slide my tongue under his shaft and relax my throat until I feel him pushing deeper. I begin to gag and pull back drooling spit down his shaft.



“Hey man, this fucking whore is trying to swallow the whole thing,” he says. “Unbelievable.”



He calls me a whore and I love it. I double my effort to swallow his cock but choke when I still have several inches to go. I attack his cock again bobbing my head up and down his length. I wrap my fingers around his slimy shaft and pump his throbbing meat. My lips slide up and down his hard meat in perfect rhythm.



I feel the car swerve several times and then come to a stop. Two hands go to the back of my head to guide my movements. The rest of my body is pulled up until my knees are on the seat and my ass is in the air. Chuck pulls my panties down my thighs exposing my pussy and ass. He wedges himself between me and the door. I feel his hard cock slide between my cheeks and split open my swollen pussy. He pushes it deep inside me.



For the first time in my life two cocks are stuffed in my body at the same time. I feel like such a slut. It excites me. I want to be used and abused. I want to be fucked until I can barely stand. These thought bring me to the edge. I have to pull my mouth off the big black cock I am sucking. I scream. My pussy explodes around the fat cock stuffed inside it. Juices run down my thighs.



“What a slut,” the one fucking me says. “She loves it.”



“Ain’t that the truth? Get your mouth back on my cock, slut.”



I love the way they are talking to me. I slide the black monster between my lips. I am determined to swallow every inch. My throat stretches around his large knob. I try to relax and hold back a gag. I push out my tongue and feel his hard meat go deeper. There are still three inches left when I have to pull back. Spit is drooling from my lips as I gasp for air. My body jerks forward from each thrust of Chuck’s thick cock into my pussy.



Marv grabs my head and rams his huge cock between my lips. I open my throat and feel it slide deeper and deeper. He pushes down on my head forcing his thick meat so deep I feel like I am going to choke. I feel his bristly pubes brush against my lips. He holds me there until I am struggling for air. He finally grabs my hair and yanks my drooling mouth off his cock. Tears are streaming down my cheeks as I struggle for air.



“It’s time for this whore to take some black cock up her pussy.”



They drag me out of the truck.



My body is flopped around like a rag doll while they change positions. I notice that we are parked behind a big dumpster in back of a furniture store. Marv is now sitting in the passenger seat and Chuck in the driver’s seat. Their pants are down around their feet. Marv lifts me into his lap until I am facing him with a knee on each side. He removes my top. His hands crush my tits and tug at my nipples.



I reach down and wrap my hands around his black monster. I push up on my knees and guide it between my legs until the huge knob is pressed against my opening. I can feel my pussy stretch open wider than it has ever been from the first black cock ever to go into me. I lift up and push down several times until he won’t go any deeper. I ride his monster like the whore I have become. I am out of control. Filth spills from my mouth



“Fuck me… fuck me with your big black cock… ohmygod… oh fuck… uh… uh… oh god… fuck my pussy…”



The pressure in my gut builds quickly. He presses his oversized finger against my asshole. This new sensations sends me into orbit. I scream from the orgasm that grips my body. I am still screaming when I feel my head being pulled over towards Chuck. He is kneeling on the seat next to us. His cock pushes between my lips. Marv’s cock is still in my pussy fucking me.



“Aw baby… oh yeah… I’m gonna cum in your pussy… oh fuck… AAARRGGHHH…”



Marv thrusts up into me. Cum explodes into my pussy. I swear I can feel it splashing off the walls of my cunt. Another orgasm surges through my body. I am delirious with pleasure. I gasp for air but Chuck holds my head and shoves his cock down my throat. I feel like I am going to pass out when he finally lets me go. Spit drools in long strands from my lips and tears run down my cheeks.



They pull my limp body out of the truck. I can feel cum oozing from my pussy as they carry me to the back and flop me onto a dirty blanket in the bed of the truck. Chuck mounts me and fucks me until he cums in my pussy. Marv shoves his cock into my mouth. I suck it until he is hard. He rolls me over and slides his cock between my cheeks. I feel it slide deep into my slimy cunt. He fuck me in long hard strokes until I cum.

We made our way back to the elevator, and jumped in. I didn’t look too bad, but Karima definitely needed some work, her white skirt had dust marks all over it and her hair was diss-shelved, even though she tried her best to straighten it up in the parking lot.



“Honey, I have your cum all over me, Salima will be able to figure out what we’ve been doing” she worried.



“Relax baby. Just go straight into the bath and clean up as best you can, I’ll distract your sister” I assured her, knowing already her sister was a street-smart cock-tease who would have figured it all out by now.



“Okay babe” Karima let out a deep breath as we made our way into her apartment. As soon as we opened the door, Karima made a dash for her bath, Salima was now sitting on the same couch in the living room watching TV, and she looked at her sister making a run for the bathroom, with her eyebrows raised.



“She needs to go pee I think” I lied as I sat down on the couch next to Salima.



“Uhh hmm” Salima replied, rolling her eyes.



Salima wasn’t oblivious to the sexual energy going on between Brian and Karima, she was well aware her sister had the hots for Brian. She was curious as to what anyone could do to make her holy, naive sister actually fall for a guy, when she had made an oath to everyone that she would never have a relationship or be anything else but a friend to any guy until she was married to one.



For someone who had just turned 18 three days ago, Salima was in reality not very experienced when it came to guys. She had gone out on numerous dates in high school, and she had kissed guys, let them play with her tits, and finger her pussy but she had never gone beyond that with anyone. Barring her Math’s teacher Mr. Roberts, who had forced her to blow him in the back of his pick-up truck, in exchange for bumping up her grade, she hadn’t sucked much cock either.



Salima wouldn’t consider herself a lesbian, because she did like guys, just not the ones in school, however she had always harbored a secret lesbian fantasy ever since she moved away from home to be close to her sister.



She had always fantasized about Karima, and wondered how it would feel kissing her elder sisters lips, playing with her nipples and tasting her pussy.



When they were younger, they had showered together and slept in the same bed, and Salima had fond memories of sleeping with her arms around her sister. She loved the smell of her body, the touch of her skin, and watching her sister’s big ass-cheeks move in rhythm when she would dance in front of the mirror in their room.



Once she even kissed Karima on the lips, it was a brief sisterly lip kiss but Salima had wanted it to be a lot more, she had tried pushing her tongue inside Karima’s mouth, however Karima had quickly pulled away, and laughingly admonished her for being a naughty girl.



Salima had been waiting for an opportunity to kiss Karima again, she wanted nothing more than to make love to her elder sister however now she could see her sister seemed to be more interested in Brian, and as she took a moment to glance again at Brian, she ran her eyes down his big chest and down across his hard abs and finished at his groin, she could understand why.



Salima wasn’t quite sure the extent of Karima’s involvement with Brian, and decided to find out more. She sat up straight on the couch, turned the TV off, and looked at Brian, as she heard Karima open the tap water in the bath.



“So Brian, how long have you been fucking my sister?” Salima asked with a smirk.



I knew that was coming so I didn’t even act surprised.



I looked her in the eye and replied calmly “For a few days” I shot back. “Why, are you jealous?”



I caught her off-guard with that one, and she hesitated for a moment.



“You…you…you’re actually fucking her? But she was a virgin?” she asked almost as if she couldn’t believe her suspicions were dead on.



“Yep..I’m ACTUALLY fucking her, and in fact, I just fucked her downstairs too. The only thing virgin about your sister now is her ass, but I plan on fucking her there very soon too” I replied, grinning at Salima.



Salima was stunned, she thought something was going on with her big sister and Brian, but she had no clue her straight-forward, virgin sister would actually be sleeping with someone, and being fucked before she got married. Karima had always held onto her virginity and Salima was stunned at what I was telling her.



“When…how…I mean…did she…?” Salima stammered.



Without letting her finish, I moved forward quickly, pulling her towards me, and placed my lips directly on hers. Salima was shocked for a moment, then she began to struggle to get loose but I gave her no room to move. I darted my tongue deep inside her mouth, as my lips burned against hers, and continued to kiss her passionately.



She tasted fresh and sweet, and I smacked my lips on hers pulling her close.



Salima felt her body responding as she opened her mouth wide, and her tongue raced inside my mouth, and she felt her hands reach out to hold my neck and push me closer to her as we kissed.



I took my hands and moved them to her shoulders, placed them under the straps on her top and began to slide them of her shoulders. Salima felt her top unhook and pile on her lap.



I quickly placed my hands on her back and began to pull Salima closer to me, still kissing her, and ran my fingers across her bare back.



Salima’s mind was racing, her head was spinning, and her legs were so weak, she was dizzy with desire as her body responded.



She began to moan as she kissed me back, and she was enthralled with my lips and my tongue, she hardly noticed my fingers unsnapping her bra, until she felt it snap and come apart.



“Mmmmm,” she tried to protest but she couldn’t speak,



I laid my hands on her beautiful, perky bare breasts, her brown nipples erect, placing my forefinger on her right nipple and squeezed.



“Oh God!”, Salima cried out; her eyes closed and her head flung backwards and her knees buckled.



I pulled my lips away from hers and started sucking on her left nipple, while my fingers continued to squeeze her right tit, and she moaned as she felt her body thrusting forward towards my mouth.



“Oh god!” Salima moaned “Oh fuck yes!”



That when I heard the water tap in the bath close, and I quickly pulled away.



Salima heard the same, and quickly gathered her senses. She looked down and realized she was naked from the waist up. She hurriedly gathered her top and bra and ran into her room, closing the door just as Karima came out of the bath.



“Hey babe” I smiled as she came out.



“Where’s Salima? She left you out here by yourself?” Karima questioned.



“Yeah, she just went into her room a few minutes ago, but that’s all good, come here” I said, wanting to change the subject.



Karima came and sat down on the couch. She leaned towards me and whispered “I still have your cum inside my pussy, I didn’t clean it all out” she grinned.



I laughed and gave her a kiss, when she noticed the bulge in my pants.



“Again?! God, you’re hard again, so fast”? she smiled.



I grinned back sheepishly, not wanting to tell her it was her little sister who had gotten me hard this time around.



“Yeah, what can I say….” my voice trailed off, as the bedroom door opened and a flushed Salima walked out.



“Where’d you go?” asked Karima as she saw her sister walk in. “You left our guest all alone”.



“I had a phone call” Salima replied, not looking at her sister as she walked back to the kitchen.



“Wait, let me give you a hand. Brian give us a few, we’ll just get dinner on the table in just a bit” Karima said.



“Sure” I replied..giving Karima’s ass a quick slap as she got up.



She looked back at me and smiled as she hurried into the kitchen.



I relaxed on the couch and took a moment to think about what I was doing. I lusted after Karima and finally got her in bed, yet just a few days later I was making moved on her little sister.



Why couldn’t I have them both, I told myself as I settled down and peered back in the kitchen.



Salima kept glancing at me again, only this time I could tell she was doing her best not too, but she couldn’t stop.



Karima called out for dinner and I made my way to the table. I sat across from Karima, with Salima sitting at the head of the table.



Karima began talking to Salima about her trip back home and what she wanted her to bring back for her and I listened quietly, willingly letting them talk while I decided to play with Salima a bit more.



I moved my hand under the table and rested it on her thigh. She flinched as she felt my hand, and quickly glanced at me from the corner of her eyes.



The touch of my fingers as I worked my way up the inside of her partly open thighs sent a bolt of sexual electricity through Salima, she sat bolt upright and looked straight at her sister, trying to continue her conversation.



I ran my fingers to the buttons on her shorts and unhooked her button with a single push, her shorts were now open from the top down, exposing her white nylon panties, and the inside of her thighs. I pushed her shorts down as much as I could with my fingers, my hand placed near the top of her thigh, moving my fingers in a gentle circular motion upwards towards her panty covered pussy lips.



Salima sucked in her breath as she felt my fingers on her pussy lips, and she wished she wasn’t wearing any panties so she could feel my fingers on her lips directly.



I twisted my fingers round and hooked my forefinger and index finger slightly before I began to manipulate Salima’s pussy lips through her panties, stretching them apart.



Salima bit down hard on her lower lip stopping herself from moaning aloud, my fingers were playing with her pussy lips, teasing and manipulating them, making her shiver with horny delight



I could tell Salima was responding to my touch, and could hear her breathing get louder and quicker.



I kept up my pace, rubbing up and down her white panties onto her pussy lips.



Salima began to move her ass back and forth on the chair, rubbing her pussy harder against my fingers, the chair creaked slightly from the movements and Salima kept looking at Karima, nodding as her sister was talking to her, not really listening to her sister but trying not to show any sign of what was going on below the dining table. She felt her cunt start to get hot and her pussy juices began to flow, wetting her white nylon panties.



I sensed her body responding and smiled to myself as I used my thumb and index finger to spread Salima’s pussy lips wide then slowly began to insert my forefinger through the panties, onto Salima’s slick tight pussy, slowly rubbing it round the edge as I did.



Salima pressed down hard on the table and threw her head back a little, her eyelids fluttered for a moment as I began to stick my finger in her, she moved her ass forward with a quick thrust taking my finger inside her hole, wishing again she hasn’t worn panties, as her pussy was burning with desire.



My finger was now partly inside Salima’s wet cunt, I turned my finger in circles rubbing it against the walls of her pussy as Salima rocked her ass back and forth along the length of my finger.



Salima rubbed her feet along the floor as her sexual excitement grew, somewhere in her brain it was telling her this was very wrong but Salima was hardly listening any more, the taboo of her sister’s boyfriend doing this to her and with her sister not 3 ft away excited her even more.



She stole a glance down and watched as my fingers spread her pussy lips wide then let them go through her panties, they shook slightly as they came together sending an intense, horny bolt straight through her, she was having to fight hard to control her emotions, her whole body was incredibly horny, her nipples had hardened and were rubbing against her top sending small shivers of delight up and down her.



I continued to pick at my food with my right hand and finally found Salima’s little clit with my other hand, smiling to myself as I ran my forefinger over it.



Salima almost lost it as she felt my fingers across her swollen clit, she pushed her lower body forward sharply, the back legs of the chair left the ground as she impaled herself onto the length of my finger, again she threw her head back quickly closing her eyes as the uncontrollable sexual feelings went through her.



Karima saw her sister’s head move back, and she asked “Sal, you okay?”



I stopped fingering Salima’s clit for a second, as Salima quickly snapped back to reality.



“Ha hmmm…yeah yeah go on” she stammered quickly, quickly glancing at me before reaching out for a glass of wine.



“See Brian, even my sister doesn’t pay attention to me these days” Karima laughed looking at me.



I joked back “Nah, she’s probably just hungry, right Salima”? I grinned looking directly at her.



Salima caught my look and a slow smile spread across her face.



“Ya,really hungry actually” she cooed staring at me.



“Sorry sis, go on” she said, pulling her chair further deep inside the table, and kicking off her shoes underneath.



As they continued their conversation, I could feel her bare feet rubbing against my legs.



She was trying to get her own back.



I tried to keep a straight face as I felt her toe nails slide up and down my thighs, and I stretched out my legs a little further under the table so she could reach easier.



I went back to her clit, it was a lot closer now that she had parted her legs further and moved deeper under the table. I held her clit in my fingers and rubbed faster and faster, my fingers were now slick with her pussy juices as she became wetter and wetter.



Salima tried to concentrate on her sister talking but she was getting extremely wet and horny, she knew if Brian didn’t stop fingering her clit, she would be cumming very soon.



Salima ran a hand through her hair pushing it away from her face, she licked her lips feeling Brian’s fingers manipulating her cunt, his wet forefinger rubbing along the inside of her pussy.



She stole another quick glance at, as her toes stroked Brian’s leg, she really wanted to replace her toes with her hands and stroke Brian’s cock but she had no way of doing so, without alerting her sister who was right beside her.



She closed her eyes again as she felt a finger push harder through her now wet and sticky panties trying to go as deep as it could, and she squirmed on the chair, she really wasn’t going to be able to take much more of this, she was very sexually aroused now, her pussy throbbing wildly, the impending orgasm building inside.



Salima bit her lip again, breathing hard through her nose as another shudder of pleasure went through her



I felt Salima’s pussy clamp down onto my fingers lightly and then release again, her breathing was ragged and loud from the excitement, she was incredibly aroused and my cock was beginning to harden as Salima’s toes made their way towards the insides of my thighs.



I gave her clit one last push and pulled my fingers out of her pussy. I ran my hand down the inside of her thigh, leaving behind a trail of pussy juices as I did, then I moved my hand back up to the table.



Salima felt my fingers withdraw from her pussy, and even though she knew she could have cum any moment and Karima would have caught on to what was happening, she had a sense of disappointment.



Salima breathed hard and looked at me as my fingers came up from under the table.



As Salima turned her heads towards me, I brought my fingers to my lips and licked them clean.



“Mmmm yummy Karima, this food is awesome” I said as I licked Salima’s pussy juice in front of her and her sister.



Salima looked at me licking her juice, and she let out a soft moan, her knees went weak, her breath stopped, she was so turned on. She locked her eyes into mine, her eyes were filled with a lusty daze.



She dabbed her toes across my thighs one last time, then slowly pulled away.



“Well eat some more than” I heard Karima’s voice as I quickly broke my gaze and looked back at Karima pushing food towards my plate.



Salima took advantage of this and quickly reached under the table, buttoning up her shorts.



I concentrated on my plate from there on, and made small talk with Karima.



Salima sat in silence from that point on, eating quietly and not making eye contact with me or her sister.



As we finished eating, Salima helped her sister clear the dishes then told her she would be sleeping early, giving her sister a quick hug.



I watched her leave the kitchen and head to her room. She looked at me as she walked past and gave me a slight smile as she locked eyes with mine.



I deliberately brought my hands down to the bulge in my pants and rubbed it through the material, as she walked by me so she could see what was in store for her.



She watched my fingers rub my cock through my pants, licked her lips and she gave me a show of her own, walking to her room, stopping by the door, turning her head back towards me, and dropping her shorts, giving me a quick view of her naked ass, before she slowly walked inside and closed the door behind her.



I sucked in my breath as she disappeared inside. A few minutes later Karima came out from the kitchen and planted herself next to me on the couch.



“Whew! I’m sorry for leaving you alone baby, Salima never helps me with anything when she’s home, and I had to clean up before I could relax with you” she murmured as she rested her head on my shoulders.



“Sssshhh that okay baby” I replied my cock was hard having seen Salima’s ass and I was ready for some action.



“You know what, I want to dance. How about a dance pretty baby?” I asked as I held her in my arms.



Karima smiled back at me and jumped up.



“Let me put something on” she said, as she hurried to the stereo and turned on some Toni Braxton love song.



I pulled her from the couch and we began to dance, Karima’s head resting on my shoulders as we moved slowly to the music.



That when I could see Salima’s door open and she was peeking out, staring at us. I saw her watching, and winked at her preparing to give her a real show.



I lowered my hands from Karima’s back down to her butt, and slowly began rubbing it with both hands.



I squeezed her ass cheeks, and began to gather her skirt in my hands and slowly pulled it up toward her waist as we continued to dance.



Salima started straight at me as I began to undress her big sister in front of her. I pulled Karima’s skirt all the way up exposing her beautiful shapely legs. With my eyes locked on Salima’s, I unhooked Karima’s skirt letting it fall flat on the floor, Karima stepped out of the skirt and continued to nuzzle my neck, as we slow danced in her living room.



I then moved one hand down to Karima’s butt and began to caress it softly.



Salima sucked in her breath from the door as she saw her elder sisters beautiful shapely ass, covered in white lace panties that were fully transparent showing off her curves and her ass-crack.



I moved my other hand down from her back, and slid it under the waist band of new white panties. I started stroking her ass cheeks with my fingers, and then pushed her panties all the way down her legs.



“Mmmmm oh baby” Karima whispered as we continued to dance.



I now had her ass dully exposed, and Salima got a clear view of her older sisters naked behind, as she watched me rubbing her sister’s ass with my fingers. I locked eyes with Salima once again and then parted Karima’s ass cheeks with my fingers, exposing her pink hole. I pushed one of my fingers into her pink hole, with her ass crack parted and her body pressed with mine.



Karima opened her legs wider as she felt my finger inside her ass, and rubbed herself against my crotch.



“Oh! Ohh baby”she moaned her as clenching as it was invaded by my finger.

This is an alternative version of one of my previous stories, The Crush (www.literotica.com/s/the-crush-9), told from Annie’s rather than Dave’s perspective. The stories can stand alone, though fans of either may want to check out the other.



————————



The first time I saw Greg, I thought, “This guy is a class A nightmare.” He was painfully handsome. Movie star handsome. Tall, dark, and handsome. Just a lovely specimen of a man. His blue-grey eyes were intense, his grip firm. He radiated confidence, and the way he looked at me, from the very first moment, was unmistakably sexual. He’s the kind of man who can make marriage vows dissolve into nothingness unless you resist the temptation, every day, day in and day out. And he was assigned to our office for the next six months.



But I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m Ann, married to Dave. Dave completes me. He’s laid back where I am intense. He’s romantic where I am practical. He’s my soulmate. We’ve been together since I was 18. He was my first; and until recently, my only. He makes me laugh, he challenges me, he makes me happy.



I wish I could say that what happened was somehow the consequence of some deep emptiness inside me, some sort of gnawing need that had been left unmet for too long. Something I had struggled with for years, and finally subcomb to. Maybe it was, but certainly nothing I was conscious of. Truth is, I had nothing to complain about. I had a great job, loving husband, a lovely home and a great future. And in a moment of weakness I almost threw it all away.



I was a bit of nerd as a kid. Okay, a full-blown nerd. My mother was a 1970s feminist, reared on Betty Friedan, Andrew Dworkin, and Catherine MacKinnon. She named me Gloria, after Steinem. And she raised me as something of a science experiment. I was good, but not great, in math as a kid, but she pushed me hard, brutally even, to prove that I could keep up with the guys. And it turns out, I could. I was top of my class, went full scholarship to a prestigious engineering program, finished in three years, and have been tearing up the corporate ladder ever since.



In some ways, that was the good part. The bad part of my mom’s philosophy was, well, a certain hostility to sex. I feel bad for my dad actually. I doubt he ever got a decent hummer out of that woman. But he never complained, was always a pleasant, happy man who found ways to bring small bits of joy into my otherwise high-stress, high-pressure upbringing. He passed away last year, and I guess a therapist would point to that as at least part of the explanation for what happened recently, but that sort of psychobabble would have annoyed my dad to no end.



Anyway, in high school, my mom’s worldview dominated my life. Starting in middle school, the other girls were experimenting with makeup, concerned about clothes, and boys. I always suppressed that. When I’d get my hair cut, the stylist would say, “you’d be such a pretty girl, if you made a little effort.” But I wasn’t about to make that effort. I wanted people to see my “inner beauty.” I wasn’t about to give into a patriachal notions of femininity. So, no makeup, frumpy clothes that became even frumpier by design as I sprouted what were an impressive and anxiety provoking set of boobs on a skinny girl, bad hair cut, the works. I was a nerd as a conscious choice. It wasn’t that I was socially awkward, but rather that I deliberately decided to reject what my mom had taught me was a demeaning role for a woman.



I’ve actually been very lucky in life with men. My Dad was never able to overcome my Mom’s convictions, but even still, I have fond memories of sitting with him in the park, sharing an ice cream, the two of us promising not to tell Mom who would have been upset that I wasn’t in the library.



The second positive influence was Bobby Battle. I still love the name. Bobby Battle, senior, quarterback on the football team, square jawed, handsome, and popular. He appeared to be a stereotypical big-man-on-campus. And I fell in love. Or something. I didn’t even know him. Just observed him from afar. And I was a mousey sophomore. He really could not have been farther out of my league.



But my Mom had filled my head with a lot of self-confidence, and a lot of bad advice about men. “You don’t need to look pretty, honey. Any decent man will be able to recognize your inner beauty.” That kind of stuff. So I approached Bobby, head up, shoulders back, and asked him out.



I still cringe when I think about that scene. It could have — should have — gone so badly wrong. In a movie, this would have been the moment where he laughs in my face, humiliating me, followed by him telling the story to all the other cool guys and popular girls triggering endless torment. Or worse, where he takes advantage of me and then throws me away without a second thought.



But, bless him, Bobby didn’t do either. He didn’t agree to go out with me either. But he did sit me down and talk to me. He told me that I seemed like a “nice girl” but not really his type. He told me that he didn’t really know me, but that I was always so serious that it seemed like I’d built a shell around myself. He brushed the hair out of my eyes, and asked me why I was so afraid to be pretty, or friendly, or fun.



I’d like to say it was an epiphany, but it wasn’t. I took it hard, and for a while, I tried to convince myself that Bobby was just shallow. But he made me think, and after a while I began to understand what he was saying and also what my Dad had been trying to hint at while staying on my Mom’s good side.



I started to change. It was a slow process, and in a lot of ways I was locked in to my high school persona – Gloria the Nerd. But by graduation, I’d changed a lot. My clothes fit properly. I was running to stay fit. I bought a bikini for the pool. And, I was determined to have more fun.



When I went off to college, I was really ready to be someone new, and just in time for my new life, I got a new name. I’d always been a film buff, and I joined the film club. It was mostly guys, just a few girls. We’d screen a movie and then talk about it, or joke about it if it was bad. We screened the Elvis movie Viva Las Vegas, and some of guys decided I looked like Ann-Margret, so they started calling me Ann or Annie, and it stuck.



I’m sure my Mom would have been appalled. And a few years earlier I’d have been horribly offended. But I was now at the point where being nicknamed after world-famous sex symbol was something I could embrace. I was tired of being Gloria, and happy to become Ann.



I met the third wonderful man of my life in film club. Dave. He was a grad student, and at first I sort of wondered what he was doing hanging out with mostly undergrads. But he didn’t give off the creep vibe at all. He was so shy. He’d sit next to me at screenings, but not even look at me. But I could tell he liked me. And I liked him. He was cute, very funny, and very, very smart. He could quote these long passages from his favorite novels, and he had an encyclopedic mind for movie screenplays.



I asked him out. It was funny. When I did it, he actually sighed in relief that I had saved him from having to do it. At least that is how I remember it. He insists that he made the first move.



Dave was the first man I kissed. Well, at least the first since some stupid game of spin the bottle in like 6th grade. But he was my first real kiss, and of course, my first lover.



Our first time was, um, awkward. Dave was a fine lover. He had some experience before me, but he wasn’t a real Casanova. And I was so nervous. But it worked. And the magical thing is that it got better and better every time. We’ve been married 10 years now, and truly, our sex life has never been better. It is always satisfying, and I mean always. He knows just how to touch me, kiss me, hold me. We still have sex a couple of times a week, which I think is pretty good after this long.



But again, I’m getting ahead of myself. We became inseperable. And right before graduation, he asked me to marry him. It was a weird moment, actually. He’d become insecure about the fact that I’d never been with another man, and he raised the issue. I don’t even remember what I said. I think I offered to go get gangbanged or something. But I do remember trying to reassure him, while at the same time admitting that I’d thought about the issue as well.



I mean, look, when Dave raised the issue it was already something I’d considered. My girlfriends thought I needed to experiment. My friend, Emily insisted that I need to “sample some more cocks.” My former roommate, Becky claimed I’d “always wonder what was out there.” I dismissed their arguments out of hand.



We got married, and immediately Dave moved away. He had a post-doc in Boston, and I had a job at an engineering firm run by one of our professors at the University down in Atlanta. So, after living together in college, we began our married life by living apart.



It was hard. We missed each other. And it was particularly hard for me. I was 21, by all accounts very pretty, working in a field with six men for every woman. I was technically married, but practically single. we didn’t have enough money to travel back and forth weekly, so we saw each other more like monthly. And like most young people, I’d go out to bars, to happy hours, to company softball games, the usual stuff. And everywhere, guys would hit on me, wedding band or not.



I ended up getting close to a guy from work, Robbie. He was a funny, nerdy guy. Just my type. He was my age, had moved down South from Michigan, knew no one and was very lonely. We were friends, just friends.



And then one night, we had a little too much to drink. He was walking me home. It was a chilly night, and like most Atlantans I was underdressed for the weather. He was holding me tight to keep me warm, and I liked the feel of his body.



When we got to my place, I invited him in.



“Are you sure?” He asked.



“Yes,” I replied blushing.



We went upstairs. I poured us some wholly unneeded glasses of wine. I’d told him the origins of my nickname, and he said he’d never seen Viva Las Vegas. So we sat on the sofa and put the DVD into the machine. Truth is, it is an almost unwatchable movie, certainly not entertaining enough to distract us from the attraction we were feeling.



I don’t know if he kissed me first, or if I kissed him. But soon, we were embracing passionately, sucking each other’s tongues. He cupped and massaged my breasts. I rubbed his penis through his pants. I lifted my shirt over my head, and he unsnapped my bra. I climbed into his lap, grinding into him as her suckled my rock hard nipples. I could feel his cock beneath me, also rock hard and straining against his pants as if trying to tear through the fabric to seek its target.



And then I stopped. I thought of Dave, and I pulled back.



“I can’t,” I groaned still sitting in his lap.



Robbie sighed and pushed me aside. “Okay,” he said quietly. And like that, it was over.



In retrospect, I doubt I could have resisted had Robbie pushed the point. I was drunk, horny, and lonely. When he left, I masturbated frantically thinking of him, thinking about how much I would have liked to feel him inside me.



But I woke up the next morning hungover and tremendously grateful to him. I also realized, I think for the first time, that fidelity doesn’t just happen. You need to work at it, at least to the point of not putting yourself in a position to let anything happen.



It is a lesson I applied diligently for the next decade. And I needed to because there were many, many offers.



A lot were easy to turn down. Loutish drunken frat boys offering me untold pleasures if I would just accompany them into the bar bathroom. An obese man with brutal body odor in business class who kept calling me “dollface.” A lackey for a Mideast despot offering me a spot in a harem (this actually happened!).



A lot were tougher. My first boss, a lovely, brilliant man who gave me my professional start, made a heartfelt pass at me one evening several months after his wife passed away. On a business trip to LA, a genuine A-list celebrity, a People Magazine’s “Sexiest Man Alive” past winner actually approached me in a restaurant and told me I was the “most beautiful woman in the room” and asked me to come to his Malibu home for a nightcap. I almost said yes, and I’m not sure Dave would have blamed me if I had. I certainly would have understood if the case were reversed and he’d fielded an offer from Angelina Jolie. But of course, that is easy to claim in the abstract.



Anyway, I’d learned my lesson well, and knew the importance of working on fidelity. Which is why when I saw Greg, I saw trouble. Here was the kind of man who embodies temptation. He was obviously interested. And we’d be working at close quarters for the next several months. A class A nightmare.



He would look at me, hungrily. Men do it all the time. In feminist theory they call it the “male gaze.” You’re reaction to it depends a lot on your personality and, of course, who is doing the gazing. Older men who do it often come off lecherous. Shy guys end up looking creepy. But when Greg does it, the only word to describe it is fiery. He’d sit there, looking me up and down, obviously undressing me with his eyes, a confident little grin on his face until I’d blush, and then he’d smile and look away.



He was always cool, so cool and collected, that it became almost a challenge to see if I could puncture his persona. He was pursuing me, but without ever quite acknowledging it. I longed for an opportunity to put him in his place, to parry an inappropriate comment with a well-time barb, but he never gave me the chance. Flirting for him was a stand-off weapon, deployed with precision and deniability, and it was making me nuts.



It is hard to explain what happened next. But the short version is that I escalated things. I couldn’t just let him get me flustered, I had to do the same to him. I started dressing more provocatively. Finding excuses to lean over and let him look down my cleavage. I’d walk into his office and sexily perch myself on his desk and talk business. I was trying to get a rise out of him. I think, I was hoping he’d lose his cool, make a pass at me that I could reject. Or maybe not. We don’t always know exactly our own real motivations.



In retrospect, what he did next was brilliant… and diabolical. As I escalated, he drew back. He stopped looking me over, stopping even the most casual flirting, and instead began to date around the office. Tina from accounting. Elena the office manage. Peggy from marketing. And it made me jealous, insanely, irrationally jealous.



I was now thinking about Greg all the time. Some days he had me so worked up that I had to go to the ladies room and masturbate thinking about him just to release enough tension to get any work done. I still didn’t want him. My plan was always to lure him in, make him fall in love with me so I could dump him. Or at least that is how I rationalized it. Even though my fantasies were filled with raunchy sex with Greg, the goal was to gain the upper hand. In my mind, I was obsessed with him because I hated him, when in reality I was obsessed with him because he’d become this perfect, illusive, unattainable prize.



After all these years, I was still, in a way, little nerdy Gloria pining after Bobby Battle. So I was fully primed when, having flaunted his other dalliances in my face, he turned again his attention to me full-force.



He only had a few weeks left in the office, but all of a sudden he was omnipresent in my life, constantly dropping by my office to chat, asking me as a favor to help him on his projects which often required working late and dining together. He was now more openly flirtatious, commenting on my clothes and shoes, talking about “how lucky” my husband was. At the same time, his reputation as a cocksman, for lack of a better word, began to spread. Elena and Tina almost came to blows over him. Peggy was gushing to anyone who would listen about what an extraordinary lover he was.



I was officially infatuated. And my infatuation broke down my defenses. I constructed elaborate rationales for why I should be able to get what I wanted. I’d never been with another man. Wasn’t it natural to be curious? I’d been so good for so long, even if I gave in this time, my batting average, so to speak, would still be very respectable. And most perversely, I convinced myself that what I was doing was best for Dave.



As my sexual obsession with Greg blossomed, I found myself resenting Dave. His kindness began to seem oppressive. I resented that he’d locked me up before I’d even had a chance to really know myself. I found myself getting snippy with him. I realized none of that was fair, but I had begun to blame Dave for my desires, and I reasoned that if I were to give into to them, I would really be doing Dave a favor by eliminating the reasons for my peevishness.



Now, in reality, I don’t know that Dave ever noticed that I was getting snippy with him. I’m not even sure that I was, but I was horribly guilty about my feelings about Greg, and as a result probably seeing my attitude toward Dave as worse than it was. For all I know, he just thought I was a little tense because of work pressures rather than so horribly nasty that it would be worth letting me have an affair in order to relieve the tension.



But, the point is, the way I ultimately let myself give into temptation with Greg was by convincing myself it was in Dave’s best interests that I do so. And since I was doing it for Dave, I decided he should be involved. I was doing him a favor after all, or so I’d rationalized it.



It will take me a long time to forgive myself for what I did, probably longer than it will take for Dave to forgive me. If I’d been strong, I would have rejected Greg outright. If I’d been brave, I might have just fucked him in secret. But I was neither.



One night, I told Dave I had a crush on Greg, and was sexually attracted to him. I didn’t really give him much choice. I basically let him know I’d be cheating on him, and in informing him I was making him complicit.



He was hurt. Crushed even. I saw the blood drain from his face. And then he made me feel even worse. He didn’t scream. He didn’t slap me. He just, I guess, gave me permission. He loved me enough to let me break his heart.



If I’d been empathetic, I would have immediately apologized and assured him it was just a stupid infatuation, and that I would avoid Greg from here on out. If I’d been self-aware I would have realized how selfish I was being. But I was neither.



The night it happened we’d just finished a huge proposal at work. Our boss, Jack, put out word that we’d be having a little celebration in the late afternoon. Greg had only a week left in the office. It was now or never.



I was so worked up I could barely see straight. I went to the gym at lunchtime and did 60 brutal minutes on the stairmaster. Then in the shower, I shaved my legs and then on impulse shaved my beaver as well. And then I masturbated. Twice. It barely took the edge off. I dressed again, leaving my bra and panties in my locker.



At the party, I guzzled three glasses of champagne, the whole time my eyes were glued to Greg. Finally, he came over.



“You look like you’re having fun,” he said, raising his glass to me.



I drained yet another glass. “Too much fun,” I giggled. “I’m going to need a ride home.”



He gave me a wink. “I’d be delighted.”



I went and called Dave and let him know I was bringing Greg home. I asked him to stay at the house. Because of how I’d constructed my rationales, it was important for him to be there.



We got in Greg’s car. His elegant, perfect luxury sedan. I reveled in every detail. His cologne was intoxicating. His hands, perfectly manicured, handled the steering wheel expertly. Not a hair out of place. Even though I was almost too excited to speak, he made small talk, casual, funny, and light. He never asked about Dave; I guess he didn’t want to jinx things and just figured he’d play it by ear.

I remember thinking I wouldn’t be able to last until we made it home. I thought about leaning over and giving him road head. I fantasized about him reaching between my legs, feeling my wetness, and pulling over to take me right there in his car by the side of the road.



But Greg was unflappable. He pulled into our driveway and stepped out of the car. He began to come around to other side to let me out, but I was too quick, too eager, bounding out of the passenger seat and leading him by the hand to the front door.



I introduced them, Greg flashing his usual confident grin, Dave looking confused and somewhat forelorn. About what you’d expect from both given the circumstances. When I look back on it, I want to stab myself in the eye with a fork. What a cruel, cruel moment. Forcing my husband to greet his wife’s imminent lover. But again, I’m taking myself out of the story, making excuses. At the time, I didn’t recognize any of that. I was drunk, horny, and happy. I had the two men in my life with me together in the same place, the love of my life and the lust of the present. At that moment, they seemed to complement each other, though of course, that was only true in the sense that they each met one of my selfish needs.



I got us all drinks and then led my men upstairs. I led Dave over to a chair in the bedroom and tried to enunciate my feelings, but I probably did nothing other than confuse him. Something about loving him, not having any secrets, and keeping me safe. He must have thought I had lost my mind.



And then I approached Greg and began to unwrap him like a Christmas present. He was as gorgeous naked as fully dressed. He had a broad, powerful torso. I ran my fingers through his thick chest hair, stopping to kiss his nipples. He let out a barely audible groan. I dropped to my knees and unbuckled his belt and undid his pants, admiring his strong thighs. I then pulled down his boxers and was greeted by his gorgeous cock.



It was only beginning to stiffen, but it was already much larger than Dave’s. I locked eyes with Greg and began to massage his balls and stroke his shaft. Feeling his prick, growing and swelling in my hands, was delightful. I took him in my mouth with some difficulty. He was already so big. And as he swelled further I realized he was more than I could handle orally. I continued to stroke him for a few more minutes, relishing the feel of his powerful tool, knowing that soon it would be inside me.



I stood up and we kissed, passionately, wetly, my hand still stroking his cock, his hands now roaming over my body freely. Despite all the flirting and the sexual tension, this was the first time we’d touched, and it was electric.



He lifted my dress above my head and let out a low whistle, declaring me “magnificent.” I blushed like a schoolgirl. He led me over to the bed, and I scoot up, on my back awaiting him. He started to go down on me, but I couldn’t wait. I was too hot, too hungry.



“Put it in me,” I begged.



He climbed up between my legs and rubbed the head of his cock against my very wet, very swollen slit. I almost came right then. And then he was inside me. Just the tip, but it was already almost too much. I could feel my vagina clinging to his cock head, feeling very stretched out. He then thrust inside me, and I could feel every inch, every bump, ridge, and vein of his cock as he entered me. It was too much, I felt lightheaded, my body was convulsing. I grabbed onto his firm ass and held on for dear life. My orgasm left me drymouthed, dizzy, and drained.



And then he started thrusting inside me. Long, deliciously slow strokes that quickly rekindled my passion. He rolled us over and I rode him, taking pleasure as much from his strong hands as from his big cock as he rubbed my breasts and gripped my ass firmly. I came a second time, an almost unprecedent event for me, and then he was on top of me again.



All that had come before was obviously just a warm up for him because now he really got down to business, fucking me deep and fast. He was relentless and tireless. Dave is a wonderful lover. He’s passionate, tender, and gentle. When he’s close, he’ll thrust fast and hard for a few moments before finishing. But Greg was a new experience for me. I’d always thought those pornos were an act. No one, I thought, fucks that hard and long in real life. And anyway, how could anyone, particularly a woman, enjoy it? But Greg proved me wrong.



I’d been making love to Dave for 13 years now, but this was the first time in my life I was truly being fucked. And I loved it. Loved every bit of it. I loved his strength and his power. Loved the way our bodies slapped together, the way his balls hit my asshole. I loved how athletic it was, both of us panting, our hearts racing.



I came again, hard, gasping for breath. I grabbed his ass and pulled him into me harder and faster still until finally with a grunt he buried himself inside me and filled me with his sperm. Even that was delicious. Dave says that when I come hard he can feel my pussy pulsing on his cock. Well, with Greg, I felt, for the first time, the reverse. I felt his cock swell, and then pulse rapidly as he spurted.



Greg pulled out gently and rolled over on his back. I laid next to him, both of us trying to catch our breath. My hand drifted down to my pussy, and I explored myself with my fingers, marvelling at how wet I was, how puffy my lips were. I put a finger inside me and felt how stretched out I was. For a moment, I wondered if Greg had altered my anatomy forever. But like magic, my pussy soon recovered its elasticity and tightened around my finger.



I looked up and Dave was gone. And for the first time, I had a real pang of guilt. But denial is powerful, and I almost immediately pivoted to a rationalization that would haunt me and drive my behavior for the next several hours and days. If I’d fucked up, I’d already fucked up. Nothing I could do would make things worse, so I might as well enjoy it.



And looking over at Greg’s long, lean, muscular body, his chisled features, and his long, thick cock, I realized I Wanted more. As good as the last hour had been, it wasn’t enough to sate me after the months of flirting and fantasizing.



Greg apparently felt the same way because his hand slid between my legs and began playing with my pussy. He was unexpectedly gentle, just lightly caressing my swollen labia until he was sure I wasn’t too sore. Then his finger found my clit and he teased the hood carefully, his finger circling it with just the right amount of pressure to get me excited again without overwhelming me. My hand slid down and seized his wet, slimy cock, and as I stroked him he rapidly hardened again.



When he was hard, and I was bucking my hip excitedly, he rolled me on top of him and filled me again. It was a delicious feeling. My pussy was tender, but not raw, and when he entered me, it was a perfect mix of soreness and pleasure. I can only liken it to that sore, satisfying feeling you get after a good run.



I don’t want to make it seem like the sex was extraordinary. It was very, very good. But when Dave later worried that it was the best sex of my life, I could honestly assure him it wasn’t. But then again, it wasn’t not the best sex of my life either. I mean, I don’t know about other people, but I can’t rank order my orgasms. There is bad sex, good sex, and great sex. Beyond that, the distinctions seem meaningless. Greg gave me some great sex, but it wasn’t any better or any greater than I’d had with Dave on numerous occasions.



Which isn’t to say there weren’t some things he did that I really liked. His cock, of course, was wonderful to experience. And I’ve already mentioned his body, his strength, and his stamina. But I also loved how and where he touched me. He was rougher than Dave, but in a good way. Dave is so in love with me that he sometimes treats me like a delicate flower. Greg was more willing to fondle me, roll me over, assert his control, take what he wanted. He was just generally more dominant sexually, which was nice as a change though I am not sure it is what I’d want on an everyday basis.



I also liked the way he played with my butt. Whether out of respect or squimishness Dave has never tried to initiate any ass play, and I never suggested it either. I never realized I’d like it. But the first time I rode Greg, he poked around back there, his fingertip tickling my anus. When I rode him the second time, he took it a step farther. Gravity and his big cock churning up inside me dislodged the copious amount of semen he’d already deposited, quickly turning our renewed love making into sloppy seconds. Greg took advantage of it by coating his finger with a generous amount of our mingled fluids and then confidently pressing his entire middle finger into my bottom.



It was a like a bolt of lightning. I came so hard I nearly blacked out. I collapsed onto his chest, unable to catch my breath as he hammered me hard from below, his thick cock stretching my cunt even as his finger pumped vigorously into my ass. God, it felt so raunchy and so hot.



After a while, he flipped us over again and pulled me to the edge of the mattress. He got to his feet beside the bed and reentered me. Gripping my thighs firmly, he pounded my pussy brutally. He was gasping and grunting, sweat now running down his face. If I hadn’t been so sloppy wet, I’m sure it would have been painful, but it was a little like being on a rollercoaster or a bumpy plane ride. All I could do was lay there and take it. After several more minutes of that he finished again, and once again treated me to that delicious feeling of his cock throbbing inside me. I’d definitely have to ask my girlfriends if they had ever experience that or if it was a Greg special.



We both ended up back on the bed in a cuddle exchanging little compliments and catching our breath.



“Red,” he began. He always called me “Red.”



“Red, that was really wonderful.”



I giggled. Having been only with Dave, I was always a little insecure about my sexual skills. Being complimented by a man who’d obviously been around the block many times was a nice little ego boost.



“Yes, you made this evening very special for me,” I replied.



“Your husband walked out.”



“I know,” I said sadly. “I’ll need to make it up to him.”



“I thought you guys had it worked out. It sure seemed that way.”



“Please, let’s not talk about it,” I said with finality.



I rested my head on his chest for a few more minutes and then went to the bathroom to freshen up a bit before showing Greg to the door.



I looked at myself in the mirror. God, I looked a mess, my hair disheveled, lipstick smeared, marks on my breasts and ass from Greg’s rough handling. I looked, in short, like a freshly fucked, wanton slut.



Greg came into the bathroom and stood behind me.



“God, you’re a sexy woman,” he gushed.



He began to caress me. His hands touching my sides, and then running across my belly. He cupped my breasts and then slid his hand down between my legs.



“I’m sorry you’re shaved,” his whispered. “I would have loved to see if the carpet matches the drapes.”



“It does,” I giggled.



His hand found my clit, making me gasp. He leaned down and kissed my neck. And as good as all that felt, the sexiest part was watching it in the mirror, seeing this hunk of a man caressing me and feeling me all over reflected back at me.



He pressed up against me and I could feel his erection. “Oh God, you’re hard again.”



“That’s what you do to me,” he replied.



He pushed me forward so that my hands were on the sink, and then he rubbed his big tool up and down my slit. He entered me slowly. I grunted. He’d fucked me raw, and taking him inside me was actually uncomfortable. He sensed that, I guess, because he took it nice and slow. But even that was too much.



“Oh baby, we need to stop, you wore it out,” I finally whined.



He stopped thrusting, but left his cock inside me for now.



“You sure?”



I gulped, “yes.”



“I could put it here,” he suggested, his fingertip pressing into my ass.



For half a second the thought excited me, and then I thought better of it. His finger had already left me feeling full. His huge tool would certainly tear me apart.



“Let me kiss it,” I offered, and I spun around and dropped to my knees.



He was too big to take into my mouth, but I kissed and licked the head like an ice cream cone. With one hand I massaged his balls, with the other I stroked his shaft.



“Look up at me when you do that,” he requested. I did.



“God, you are so sexy,” he said again. “I want to finish in your mouth.”



I’d never done that. I just didn’t like the idea of it. Semen is disgusting, slimy, salty, warm. And it always seems demeaning. But somehow it just felt right as a coda to the evening, a once in a lifetime act to cap off a once in a lifetime evening. Plus, he’d already finished twice. How much could he have left? I gave him a little nod and continued working on his cock.



“That’s it, Red, milk it,” he grunted, our eyes locked.



I felt his cock swell, this time in my hand. I opened my mouth. It pulsed and a thick stream of hot cum filled my mouth. Any thought of spitting it out disappeared as he spurted again. I swallowed just to keep up. Another spurt and another followed. I couldn’t swallow fast enough. When he finished, my mouth was coated with his jism, it was in my throat, and dripping from my lips.



“Now that is a beautiful sight,” he exclaimed.



I could only laugh. I wiped myself off.



“Now, you have to go, that’s all you’re getting,” I said happily.



“It was more than I could have hoped for,” he replied gallantly.



He dressed and I put on a bathrobe. I walked him to the front door. Greg gave me a last passionated kiss goodnight. I watched him drive away.



I noticed that Dave was in his office, door shut. That was fine for now. I went back upstairs and stripped the bed and remade it. I opened the windows to air out the room, which probably smelled of sex and sweat, though I couldn’t tell since it was my sweat and sex. Then I took a shower.



For a while I stood there, enjoying the feel of the water on my naked body, my hands slowly exploring my various parts, visualizing what Greg had done to each one. As I touched my breasts, I thought of how Greg had pinched my nipples as I rode him. When my hand slid over my stomach it brought back the memory of his doing the same thing before the bathroom mirror. When I found my clit, I remembered him teasing me gently renewing my excitement after the first fuck. I slid my finger down between my legs, feeling my tender pussy recalling how he’d pulled me to the edge of the bed and hammered me like a machine. Then as I traced further back, I touched my anus, bringing back the searing memory of him shoving his finger up my butt even as he pounded my pussy. I came again, a shuddering, gasping orgasm as powerful as any I’d experienced earlier in the evening.



When I recovered, I washed every square inch of my body, wiping away any traces of Greg. I even douched. I brushed my teeth. Gargled mouthwash. I didn’t want anything that would remind Dave of Greg when I went to him. I dried myself and wrapped myself in my bathrobe.



I knocked and entered his office. Dave looked at me sadly. He was crushed. I felt awful. Not so much for what I had done, which I had thoroughly enjoyed, but rather for having hurt Dave. But I decided to be strong. I’d already been so unfair to him that I couldn’t bear to let my feelings through. Whining about how bad I felt would make it about me, and really what I needed to do was reassure Dave as best as I could.



I tried to explain to him that I loved him, that I was sorry for being so weak. He asked me if I wanted a divorce. I was shocked. The thought had never crossed my mind. There was so much I wanted to explain, so much I wanted to say. This was all about my insecurities, my regrets, my weaknesses, but I didn’t want to go there. Not now. I’d been self-indulgent enough for one night, for one lifetime really. I just wanted to reassure him. I told Dave he was still the best lover I’d ever had. I even made him feel my vagina so he could see I wasn’t “stretched out” permanently. By the end of our talk, I thought I’d reached him. We’d be able to work it out, and from my persective we were now at the point where instead of resenting Dave for keeping me from satisfying my crush, I could be nurturing him and working to meet his needs. He would need time to heal, of course, but he came to bed with me.



We cuddled together. I was, well, happy. Very happy. I’d landed my Bobby Battle, and the experience had exceeded all expectation, and here I was in bed with my husband whom I loved dearly. I felt well fucked, tired, and loved. I fell asleep.



I woke up the next morning refreshed and still happy. I let Dave sleep and went for a run. I just felt great.



But when I got home, the whole thing began to unravel. When I got back Dave was in a shower, which was a good thing because Greg called.



I’ve never been particularly empathetic, I guess. It isn’t so much that I am selfish as much as I expect everyone to behave like me, practical and analytical. I know, I know, falling in lust with a co-worker isn’t practical, but my point is, I guess I sort of expected everyone to play the roles I’d assigned them in my head. Dave would be the loving husband who sacrificed to allow me to indulge a mindless passion. And Greg would be, I guess, a walking dildo. My interest in Greg was purely physical, or at most he was a stand-in for my repressed desires. But I had no interest in Greg, per se. And certainly now that I had largely sated my lust, I thought I had no desire to further challenge my marriage with more encounters. And I always assumed that Greg would see me as nothing more than just another notch on his bedpost.



“Hey Red, sorry about calling you at home. I tried your cell and you didn’t pick up. I’ve been thinking about you.”



Alarm bells went off in my head. I checked my cell. Three calls from him. One message. Six texts, the first one at 3:30am.



I admitted I’d been thinking about him as well, but I also lowered the boom.



“Listen, Greg, we can’t see each other again. It was a one time thing. Let’s just leave it at that.”



“Really?” He asked, genuinely surprised.



“Yeah, look, I’m happily married.”



“You don’t mean that. You felt it last night. I felt it. We belong together.”



That knocked me for a loop. “We can’t,” I muttered.



“At least admit it was something special,” he insisted.



“It was special,” I replied, somewhat shaken. I managed to end the conversation. I sat back heavily on the sofa. Suddenly drained. It occurred to me, for the first time really that I had opened up a real can of worms, not just with Dave, but apparently with Greg as well.



It didn’t help that when Dave got out of the shower, he seemed to have regressed emotionally. He was now just as dejected as when I’d first spoken to him after Greg left. The day got worse and worse. Dave was a mess. And Greg kept texting and calling. I found myself trying to balance the emotional needs of both men, doing a frankly lousy job all around.



By late afternoon, I’d had enough. Greg kept insisting I should meet him to talk it over, so I agreed to come into the office, planning to end it once and for all. I made some excuse to Dave about the proposal and headed in.



Greg was in his office working on some papers.



I cleared my throat. “Look, I’m sorry if I mislead you. You’re a great guy and all, but I’m married. I love Dave.”



He looked up and gave me an earnest look. “Sit with me,” he said softly, taking my hand and leading me over to his sofa.



I sat next to him, pulling my hands back primly into my lap, practicing in my head the lines that would communicate to Greg that it was over, indeed had never been.

But, God, he was a handsome devil. Every hair in place, fingernails manicured, shoes shined to perfection. Just sitting beside him weakened my resolve to end it. He looked me in the eyes, holding my gaze confidently.



“I can’t stop thinking of you. Haven’t been able to for weeks,” he said earnestly. “You haunt my dreams.”



That took my breath away. I gasped, speechless.



“I need you,” he rasped, taking my hands in his.



“Don’t say that,” I muttered, almost pleading. “You barely know me.”



With a hurt expression, he replied, “That’s not true. We’ve been working together for months. I think about you all the time.”



I thought of Elena. Of Peggy. Of Tina. I felt a wave of jealousy. He’d probably told them the same things when he was trying to bed them. “Oh please, Greg, you’ve been cutting quite a swathe.”



He shook his head sadly, then gave me a small smile. “Do you think you’re just another notch of my bedpost?”



“Well, aren’t I,” I replied.



“Oh Red, no! No. No!” he insisted forcefully. Then he softened. “Yes, I’ve dated other girls, but that was only because I thought you were taken, unavailable.” He was now gently caressing my soft hands with his strong, manly fingers.



“I am,” I replied, but I could feel my resolve slipping as I started to imagine those hands running over my body.



“That’s why I am so sad about all of this. God, you’re so beautiful, smart, and funny. And we have the most amazing sexual chemistry.”



I could feel myself flush hotly, my heart pounding in excitement. It was now or never. I took a deep breath and forced myself to my feet.



“I’m sorry,” I choaked out horsely.



“Don’t go,” he breathed as he caught my hand with his fingertips.



My resolve melted. I wanted him so badly at that moment. It was almost a gravitational pull.



“We can’t,” I moaned, but I was already coming back toward him.



“Just a kiss,” he pleaded.



My legs gave out. I fell into his lap. He gave me a feathery little kiss on the lips. It was almost chaste, and yet at the same time, I could feel him hardening beneath me, his big, beautiful cock straining to get at me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and we kissed wetly. I was the aggressor, pressing my tongue deep into his mouth. He grabbed my ass, pulling the cheeks apart, and the sudden feeling of his finger on my wet labia made my stomach do a flip. I reached down and literally torn open his trousers, clawing at his boxers until his fat cock popped out. I rose up on my knees, and felt him slide my panties to the side. With a desperate growl, I lunged back into his lap, impaling myself roughly on him.



I fucked him. There is no other word for it. I was in his lap, grining my pussy against his pubic bone, relishing the amazing feeling of him inside me. He was moaning loudly, and his excitement fed mine. I rode him harder, my clit now almost painfully swollen sliding up and down his thick cock. He pulled my dress off my shoulders, and freed my breasts. My nipples were dark red, full engorged. He took one in his mouth. I grunted ecstatically.



And then it happened. I felt a plume of heat rising and spreading from between my legs then across my belly. My heart hammering so hard it seemed ready to burst through my chest. I got dizzy. There was a flash of light. And then nothing.



The French have a term for it, La Petite Mort, the little death, for an orgasm so strong you black out. I’d always imagined it was a metaphor, a lovely little poetic license. But it was real. For a while, I have no idea how long, whether a minute or a hour, I floated on waves of pleasure, swirls of color, a soft buzzing in my ear, and the amazing feeling of being penetrated, over and over, fully and completely possessed, helpless to prevent it, but desperate for it to continue forever.



I came to slowly, my vision blurry, to find myself on Greg’s desk, on my back, my legs wedged over his broad shoulders as he relentlessly drove his thick cock into me.



“Oh God,” I moaned, “come inside me. I love it when you come inside me.”



He pulled almost completely out, just the head of his cock between my swollen lips. Then with a rough thrust, he filled me. He did it again. And again. And then he shuddered. I felt his prick swell and then pulse, over and over.



“Oh God, I love that,” I cooed.



We slowly disentangled and dropped to the floor, sitting side by side. I reached into his lap to caress his lovely member. He playfully tweaked my nipples. We kissed, softly, sharing our contentment, basking in the afterglow.



“I think I love you,” I said suddenly, impulsively, staring off in the distance.



I looked up to see his handsome, smiling face. And when I did, it hit me, like a punch to the chest. I gasped. I couldn’t breath. And then after a few moments when I thought I’d never be able to breath again, I fell apart.



First came the heaving sobs, then the tears, flowing hot and fast down my cheeks.



“I’m a bad, bad, bad person,” I wailed, hitting my head against Greg’s desk.



“No, you’re not,” he reassured me. “You’re beautiful and strong. You’ve done nothing wrong. There is nothing wrong with following your heart.”



“Yes there is! I’m married! I love Dave! And I’ve hurt him! And betrayed him!” I shouted.



“It’s not that simple,” he insisted.



“Yes, it is,” I sobbed. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”



“It’s not that simple,” he repeated. “Loving a person is not mutually exclusive with loving another.”



“No, but betrayal is.”



“It’s also a betrayal to deny pleasure to a loved one,” he replied cryptically.



“What the hell does that mean?”



“It means, if Dave really loves you he ‘ll wants you be happy. To find joy wherever you can find it.”



“Could you do that? I mean, let your wife or girlfriend find happiness with another man?”



He regarded me thoughtfully. “I don’t know. I am not sure I’ve ever loved someone enough for me to place their happiness above mine. But I think Dave does love you that much. He didn’t stop us last night.”



“All the more reason, I shouldn’t betray him,” I whined back, tears now starting down my face again.



“It’s okay, Red, it’s okay,” he said softly. He leaned forward and kissed a tear off each of my cheeks.



He slid his arms beneath me and effortlessly lifted me off the ground. I wrapped my arms around his muscular neck. I needed his strength.



He carried me over to the sofa and laid me down, then he slid up onto the cushions beside me. We laid there, side by side, naked, for a long while. He was kind, and gentle, and reassuring. Intellectually, I think I knew what he was saying was bullshit. But he was smooth, and most of all, I wanted to believe. I wanted to believe I was a good person, that I deserved this, that Dave would want me to be happy, and that if he didn’t it was him being selfish not me.



Greg caressed me gently, his hands assiduously avoiding my nipples or between my legs. Instead, he softly ran his fingertips everywhere else. He caressed my belly, traced the outline of my jaw, lightly brushed my sides. He was smiling broadly, infectuously, obviously happy to be with me, to have my naked body beside his. And it made me happy too.



“Please make love to me,” I asked finally.



“Are you sure?”



I swallowed and nodded.



Gently, he rolled on top of me, and cautiously he entered me. For the first time, we really made love. It was slow and tender. We kissed continuously. He was patient. So patient. Never rushing. Just those, long, deep, slow thrusts. After a while, I reached a plateau, right on the edge of a crashing orgasm, but somehow better for not going over the edge. He kept me there for what seemed like an eternity, a beautiful, delightful eternity. And then when I thought I might almost burst from anticipation, he shifted his position slightly, pressing into me fully, and the wave toppled over, leaving me gasping and panting as I came again.



“Now it’s your turn,” I managed to choke out when I caught my breath.



But instead, he pulled out. “No, that was just about you, Red.”



He lay back down beside me. I rested my head on his powerful chest, and suddenly exhausted, I dozed off.



When I awoke, it was dark outside. I glanced at the clock to see it was past 8:00. Greg roused when I did.



“You’re so beautiful when you’re sleeping,” he offered.



I couldn’t help but smile. I dressed quickly.



“Can I see you tomorrow?” He asked.



God, I wanted to say yes. But I knew I needed to fix things with Dave first.



“I don’t know. We’ll see,” I muttered as I left.



In the car ride home, I rehearsed what I would say to Dave. There was so much I wanted to explain. Greg’s argument about love not being mutually exclusive was the key one. I wanted so much to have it all. To have Dave and Greg. It felt so right. Surely Dave would understand that Greg made me happy, and making me happy would make Dave happy. If we could all just be grown up about it, it could all work out.



Rationalization is a powerful dynamic. I swear, all of this made sense to me at the time. I was sure it was just a matter of talking it out.



My little fantasy ran into a buzzsaw the moment I got home. Dave confronted me angrily, demanding to know where I’d been, waving the briefcase I’d left behind as evidence that I wasn’t really working.



“I know you were with him,” he hissed.



There was a weird certainty in his voice. He wasn’t making an accusation. He was making a statement of fact.



“Were you following me? Are you spying on me?” I spit out.



I was genuinely angry. And embarrassed. Well, mostly, I guess I was angry because I was embarrassed, because Dave had blown up my planned effort to convince him to let me continue to see Greg.



My outburst left him speechless. I’m guessing he too had a carefully worked out script he was planning to follow, and my reaction threw him for a loop as well.



Suddenly, I felt sick to my stomach.



“I can’t talk about this now,” I snapped and ran upstairs.



I locked myself in the bathroom and turned on the shower and then puked my guts out in the toilet. Then came the tears. Again. I must have sat under the shower for an hour just crying hysterically.



In twenty-four hours I had turned into a complete ninny, my days spent either fucking or crying. I’d always been in control. My whole fucking life was about self-control. I’ve never tried drugs. I barely drink. I was raised to be stoic, a sort of Vulcan or something, and now suddenly my whole life was being consumed by lust, remorse, anger, jealousy, and a half-dozen other emotions I could barely categorize.



I hated Greg. Hated Dave too, for making me feel this way. And then more tears. It wasn’t their fault. I was the one being selfish and stupid. But, fuck, being with Greg was just amazing. He was a great lover, a wonderful prize. But I couldn’t imagine being without Dave either. I was like a three year old having a tantrum. I want, I want, I want.



But that moment of clarity did little to resolve my dilemma. Of course, I knew what I should do, what the right thing to do was. Stop seeing Greg. But what if it was too late? What if I had already destroyed things with Dave? Why should I throw away the one thing I still had that made me happy? And anyway, why couldn’t I have it all? If Dave found a woman who excited him the way Greg excited me, wouldn’t I let him explore it? No! I knew, I wouldn’t, couldn’t accept it. So how could Dave? But hadn’t he already? If this was so fucking important, why didn’t he put his foot down beforehand? It was his fault for letting it happen. More tears. Of course, it wasn’t his fault. I was blaming the victim.



I dragged myself out of the shower when the hot water ran out, and buried myself under the covers. Dave checked in on me at one point, and I pretended to be asleep. He must have decided to sleep downstairs. I barely slept.



Indeed, the only reason I know I slept at all is that I had a dream about Greg at one point. We were making love outside. It was amazing, in the weird dreamlike way. Then I suddenly realized we were in our back yard, and that Dave was watching us through a window. He was obviously angry, banging on the glass, yelling. I mentioned it to Greg, and he just laughed. I tried to get Greg to stop, but he wouldn’t, and then he pointed back at the window, and Dave was gone. Except he wasn’t, and now Greg was Dave, and he was inside me, but not even looking at me, just fucking me without acknowledging me.



I woke up, excited, disturbed, and disoriented. I slowly recognized my surroundings and played out the events of the past few days. God, I was just an awful person. I mean, intellectually, I knew that. And yet, I couldn’t shake the pull of the affair. I felt like an addict. And for the moment, I just wanted to stay under the covers and hide from the situation I had created.



It was late when I finally roused myself from bed. I went downstairs to find Dave sitting sullenly alone in the living room. I went to him, and bless him, the first thing he asked me was “Are you okay?”



“No, I’m a bad person,” I moaned.



He took me in his arms and hugged me. God, it just felt so good, so right. This was where I belonged.



We talked for a while. I tried to apologize. Tried to explain what was going on. But it was so hard. I couldn’t pretend Greg meant nothing to me. I tried to explain that while I loved Dave, Greg was so exciting. But Dave wouldn’t, couldn’t understand.



“It’s just hard, ya know?” I finally exclaimed.



Dave just looked at me coldly. “Actually, I guess I don’t. Either you’re married or you’re not.”



“I wish it was that simple,” I replied, trying to convince myself as much as anyone else.



A real tragedy of having an affair is the way the situation becomes self-reinforcing. Dave was understandably angry, hunt, and suspicious. And while he tried to hide it, I could feel it in every moment we were together. When I went out to do some errands, Dave tagged along, keeping an eye on me. He was bruque and cold. At the same time, there was this other man in my life, exciting, enthusiastic, amorous, and eager to see me. Spending the day with Dave was work, and as the day wore on, the lure of play with Greg tugged ever more insistently.



Dave and I had a quiet dinner. Watched some TV. Retired to bed with barely a word spoken between us. I couldn’t sleep for a long while. The tension between us was too palpable. I think Dave felt the same way, though I couldn’t be sure. He was curled up with a pillow on the opposite side of the bed from me, seemingly as far away as he could get.



I thought of Greg. Of how we’d fucked and then made love in the office. I thought of his body, his cock. I slid my hand down under my panties and lightly rubbed my shaved mound. I could feel myself getting excited. Dave stirred, and I stopped, panicked. But then he just shifted around slightly and began to breath deeply, either asleep or pretending to be. I was embarrassed for a moment, but then convinced myself it was okay. It was okay to fantasize. I started to touch myself again. My clit was swollen, my nipples hard and pressing almost painfully against the fabric of my nightie. I came quickly, biting my lips to keep from gasping. The release was just what I needed to get to sleep, finally.



I’d like to pretend I played hard to get. But the reality is that from the moment I got into the office the next morning after yet another nearly wordless breakfast with Dave I was primed for Greg’s attention. He was running from meeting to meeting in the morning, working on closing out his duties as he prepared to move on at the end of the week, but he stopped by a few times just to flash me a quick smile. I was between projects, just cleaning up some admin work and with plenty of time to think. And the more I thought, the more I thought about Greg, and his imminent departure. In a way, that became my escape hatch. I didn’t have the strength to just turn Greg down, but happily he was leaving anyway. I could continue to see him, discreetly, for the rest of the week and then he’d be gone, and I’d have a lifetime worth of delicious memories as I tried to rebuild my relationship with Dave.



Greg finally came for me at lunchtime. I half-heartedly try to resist. But it was all a show, and Greg knew it. He pulled down his zipper and took out his prick, and I took him in my mouth, worshipping his cock. Then he bent me over my desk, lifted up my skirt and took me from behind.



“Oh yes, oh yes, I love it so much, love it so much,” I gasped as he fucked me with deep, hard thrusts.



“Come to my place tonight, Red, and I’ll show you something new,” he offered, his moistened thumb gently circling my anus.



“Show me what?” I asked, but I knew. And he confirmed my thoughts… or fears… or desires… by firmly pressing his thumb into my butt.



“Oh God,” I moaned, overwhelmed by the sensation of being fully filled, but also at the realization of how raunchy and slutty I was being. I was cheating on my husband, at work, bent over my desk, in broad daylight, penetrated by vaginally and anally. I was all too much. I came hard. And Greg was right behind me, filling me yet again with his seed.



He pulled out and sat in my chair, breathing hard. Without thinking, I squatted before him and took him back in my mouth, eagerly cleaning his cock of our mixed juices. He never fully softened, and soon I could feel him stiffening again in my mouth. I swallowed him deeply. I was getting better at that after three days of practice with him. He moaned.



“Play with yourself while you do that,” he commanded.



I did. My pussy was soaked and swollen and very tender. I thought, “oh, God, if my mother could see my now.”



And then it hit me. This wasn’t about Dave, wasn’t about Greg. This was about me, for the first time really pushed my boundaries, letting go, and losing control. I was, for the first time in my life, actually being submissive, allowing a man to dominate me. And it scared me how much I enjoyed it. I know it sounds crazy to have this sort of existential discussion in the middle of performing oral sex, and it probably sounds like yet another rationalization. But the realization just rocked me. It made me question who I was, who I’d been raised to be.



Greg coming in my mouth brought me back to the present. I swallowed his jism like a good little whore, suddenly wondering if I could ever get back to who I’d been, and whether I’d even want to.



We straightened ourselves up, and Greg again invited me to his apartment that evening. I demurred. I knew I needed time to think.



“Red, we have so little time left together,” he said softly. “Let’s not waste any of it. Unless, unless, you want to come out and stay with me in San Diego?”



“You know I can’t do that,” I replied.



“Can’t? Or won’t?”



“What difference does it make?”



“It makes all the difference in the world, Red.”



“I can’t see you tonight,” I said firmly, side-stepping the deeper issue.



“Okay.” He kissed me on the forehead, and disappeared back into the hallway.



At home, Dave and I had another morose and tense evening. Dinner in silence. TV in silence. Bed together with a wall of tension pushing us apart. I fell asleep finally, but awoke with a start around 1:00am.



Dave wasn’t in bed. I got up and looked for him. He wasn’t in the house. His car was gone. He was gone.



I called his cell. No answer.



I needed to speak to someone, so I called Emily. She’s one of my oldest friends. She’s a real estate agenda and sleeps with her phone by her bed, so I knew I’d reach her.



“Hullo?” she answered groggily.



“I think Dave left me,” I began.



“What did you do?”



“What do you mean? Why do you think I did anything?”



“Because, ducky, Dave is hopelessly, desperately committed to you. He’d never leave normally. So, what did you do?”



God, that cut me to the quick. I burst into hysterical sobs again. And then it all came out. Greg, my mother, Bobby Battle, how terrible I felt about hurting Dave, how I’d always been in control, always perfect, all in a long, rambling monologue punctuated with jags of crying. It was an embarrassing confection of self-pity, self-loathing, rationalizations, and maybe a few glimmers of revelation. The kind of thing only an old and dear friend can handle.

“So what are you going to do now?” Emily asked after a long while.



“I don’t know. What should I do?”



“Go back and time and not fuck Greg,” she answered curtly. “But since you can’t do that, I dunno. But I can tell you what not to do. Don’t go Dave until you’re sure that’s what you want. I don’t know that he’ll take you back. But I do know that you’ve hurt him enough already.”



“Okay,” I said softly.



“Good luck, honey, good luck,” she said finally as she hung up.



It was after 3:00am now, and I call Dave again. This time he picked up.



I told him I was worried about him. He told me not to worry. I told him I didn’t want to lose him.



“You also told me you’d try not to fuck Greg anymore,” he replied coldly. “How can I believe you when you can’t even follow through on that.”



I gasped. His tone made clear that he knew, that my ‘discreet’ nooner had been anything but. I wondered if he had dropped by to see me, only to see Greg enter my office and close the door. Or had my secretary tipped him off. It didn’t matter.



I tried to reassure him, “He asked me to move to San Diego with him. I said no.”



“Good for you.”



“You’re not making this easy,” I pleaded.



“Good,” he said with a finality that sent chills up my spine. And then he hung up.



For a long while I just stared at the phone. I had made an insane hash of my life. I had been selfish and stupid, and I was paying the price. But before I could even begin to fix things, I had to finish the journey I’d begun.



I called in sick the next morning, and send Greg a text.



“I need to see you.”



“I’m in my office, drop on by.”



“No, in private.”



“Okay, I have a lunch appt. Drop by my place after. I should be home by 2.



At 2:01pm I rang his doorbell. He was in his suit, but had loosened his tie, giving him a slightly rakish look.



He let me in.



“So, is this big breakup?” He asked.



“I don’t know.”



He looked me over. I was wearing a light sundress and heels and nothing else. My nipples were pressing through the fabric.



“You’re not dressed for a breakup,” he noted. “Or is this a last fling?”



“Don’t make this hard,” I whined.



“Then tell me what you want,” he snapped.



I blushed. I had practiced what I was going to say, but actually saying it was harder than I expected.



“You can do whatever you want to me,” I said in a whisper.



Being with Greg would mean changing who I was. He was too strong, too confident for it ever to be equal. He had never even considered staying with me, instead he had asked me to move to San Diego to be with him. And I realized that was the real question. Did I continue to want a relationship of equality with Dave, or did I, contrary to what my mom had always tried to indoctrinate want a man to take care of me, to possess me? And so, I had to see what it would be like to give in completely, to submit to him unconditionally.



“What?” He asked, though I could tell he’d heard, and just wanted to make me repeat it louder.



I looked up, fixed his gaze. “You can do whatever you want to me.”



He raised an eyebrow.



“Anything?”



“Anything.”



“So, is this instead of coming with me to San Diego, or part of your way of deciding.”



“I don’t know.”



“So, if I want to bring another girl over and watch you make love to her, you’d do it?”



“Yes.”



“And if I wanted to invite a bunch of my buddies over and have them take turns with you, you’d do that too?”



My stomach did a flip. “Yes.”



He regarded me curiously.



“No, I think I’ll keep you for myself… for now.”



After a pause he continued. “Take off your clothes… except your heels… and come to my bedroom,” he ordered, turning around and disappearing up the stairs.



I took a deep breath and obeyed. I’d never been to his place. It was a typical corporate townhouse, nicely but blandly furnished. Most of his belongings were already packed. It felt weird walking around this strange house naked. I peeked into several empty rooms before I found his.



He was sitting on the bed, a collection of sex toys arrayed beside him like tools at a dentists office. As I approached him, he stood, and took me by the shoulder. Firmly he spun me around and pushed me back onto the bed.



He was on me in an instant, roughly spreading my legs and attacking my pussy with his mouth. I gasped. Dave had done this to me often, of course, but never like this. Greg ate my snatch like a man possessed, licking me deeply with broad tongue strokes, sucking my clit into his mouth almost painfully, ramming two fingers into me. I was thrashing about. It was too much, too much, but then suddenly it was just right. I came hard.



I was still dazed as he flipped me onto my hands and knees. I heard him pull down his zipper and he entered me fully, hammering my pussy from behind. I was already so wet that squishing sounds filled the room. My breasts were bouncing wildly, I could feel beads of sweat run down my cheeks.



He squeezed a dollop of lube onto my anus, and buried his thumb into my butt, which he proceeded to churn in and out even as he continued to batter my pussy with his huge cock. After a few minutes he stopped thursting and while keeping his prick inside me, he pulled out his thumb. He reached down to grab a slim, metallic dildo. I whimpered softly as he pressed it into my ass. It was only a little larger than his thumb, but it was harder, less yielding, and much longer. I felt a rush of panic as he began to sodomize me with it, but he went slowly, giving me plenty of time to adjust until I could take several inches into my bottom. He was obviously experienced, and it showed. He kept me right on the edge where my excitement overwhelmed my discomfort, but just barely.



Slowly, he began thrusting his penis into me again. There were points when both his cock and the dildo were deep inside me, when I felt so full I might burst.



“Do you like this?” He asked.



“Yes,” I grunted. And I did. I imagined myself as one of those porn chicks — and yes, I occasionally watch it — double-penetrated by two hung studs, helpless to resist, completely in their power. My feelings frightened me, but it was like my body was on automatic pilot, my nipples almost painfully swollen, my clit as well, my hips thrusting back against those two invading phalluses.



After a while, Greg decided it was time for the next step. I gasped as he showed me what he planned to use on me next, a thick butt plug the size of a plum.



“I can’t take that,” I whined.



“Just relax.”



He withdrew his cock and then slowly pulled out the dildo.



“Rub your clit,” he commanded.



As I did, he pressed his middle finger deep into my bottom. Having adjusted to the dildo, this was actually more comfortable, pleasant actually. As he pumped his finger in and out of my butt, I found myself actually enjoying the physical sensation rather than just being turned on by the situation.



“Make yourself cum,” he ordered now.



I rubbed my clit faster, and he finger fucked my ass in time. I came with a series of soft mewls and as I did, he pressed a second finger into me.



“It’s too much, too much,” I whined.



But he was insistent, pumping his two fingers in and out, and then twisting them side to side. And then without warning, he pulled out his digits, and I could feel the well-lubed butt plug pressing insistently at my anus, stretching me more than I thought possible, to the point that I was sure I was about to tear.



I squealed in pain, and as I did, the plug slipped inside me and my ass closed on the slimmer stem.



I was sweating and gasping, my whole body shaking. The feeling was like nothing I’d ever experienced. It wasn’t pleasant, but not really unpleasant either. But it was different, very different, and there was something about pushing my boundaries that was a real turn-on.



I looked up to see Greg standing now naked before me, his hard slimy dick in my face. He grabbed a handful of my hair and pressed my mouth to his prick. And now I was in another until recently unthinkable scene, naked, on my hands and knees, a huge butt plug up my ass, slobbering on a massive tool. As I sucked him off, he roughly kneaded my dangling breasts, pinching my nipples between his thumb and forefinger.



“Fuck, that’s good,” he moaned.



I knew he was close, so I swallowed him deep. I had worked up to taking half his cock into my mouth, and when I did, I felt the now familiar swell and pulse as he filled my mouth and throat with jism.



When he came, some of the frantic energy of the session dissipated. He pressed me down flat on my belly and straddled me on the bed. He started rubbing my neck, his strong hands squeezing the tension out of my muscles. He massaged me up and down, relaxing me as much as possible given that my ass was still being stretched out by the butt plug.



Then after several minutes, he shifted downward. He rubbed my ass cheeks, squeezing them, complimenting their firmness. He slid a hand between my legs, and gently fingered my pussy until I was moaning with delight. Then I felt him began to play with the plug, pulling back on it until I whimpered and then letting it slide back in. Over and over he did that, each time, pulling it a little further out, each time opening my ass up a little wider.



Then suddenly, the plug slipped out with an audible plop, and before I could respond he pressed in back in. He fucked my ass with the butt plug like that for several minutes. Then I felt him shift slight, and the next time the plug slipped out, he quickly replaced it with the tip of his prick.



I gasped. His cock was no larger than the plug, and it was softer, warmer, more pleasant, but it also didn’t have that slimmer stem, so as he pressed into me there was no moment of relaxation, of relief. Instead, I was stretched, fully stretched open, continuously stretched open as he slowly began pumping back and forth.



“I knew you could do it,” he moaned. “Do you like it?”



“I dunno,” I moaned hoarsely, honestly.



“Well, I do,” he continued. “God, you have a beautiful ass. I could do this forever.”



He sodomized me carefully, gently, slowly filling me ever deeper. I could tell he loved it, and his pleasure was undeniably exciting.



The sensation was completely overwhelming. After a few minutes, when he almost fully inside me, it was all I could think about. My entire consciousness was focused on the feel of his hard, thick member stretching my ass, filling me more completely than anything I’d ever experienced.



I don’t know how long it went on. A long time. He came inside me, a sudden hot rush in an unexpected place. When he finally pulled out, I was able to take stock of my condition. I was shaking and drenched with sweat. Even though he’d pulled out, I could still feel him inside me, my butt throbbing.



He pulled a blanket over me and snuggled up close. He kissed my neck tenderly.



“You did beautifully,” he complimented me.



“Thank you,” I groaned softly, pleased that I had pleased him.



After another few minutes, he roused me.



“Come on, let’s get cleaned up.”



He led me into the bathroom. I was shaky, dazed, almost in shock. Greg made the shower real hot, and we stepped in together. He washed me gently, the water coursing over body, and the steam filling my lungs. We kissed, passionately, just slowly exploring each other’s bodies. After a while, he broke the embrace and stepped out of the shower, leaving me to continue relaxing in peace.



When I stepped out, I noticed he’d left me a warm, fluffy towel and bathrobe, and also thoughtfully left me a hair dryer.



I dried myself off and fixed my hair and then stepped out in the cool of his bedroom.



Greg was waiting for me. Before I could say anything he reached up and placed a blindfold over my eyes. He then slid the robe off my shoulders and onto the floor. He took my wrists and wrapped them with some sort of fur-lined cuffs. Then he walked me over toward a corner of the room, and lifted my arms in the air. There was a soft clicking sound, and before I knew it, I was bound with my hands above my head. I tugged on the cuffs, but despite their softness, they were sturdy. There was another clicking sound, and I felt my arms pulled upward, until I was standing perfectly straight, my feet just barely on the ground.



“What are you doing?” I asked, sort of amused.



He didn’t answer. Instead, when I next tried to speak, he quickly pressed a ball gag into my mouth which he fastened firmly around my neck.



“Greg, stop!” I tried to say. But what came out was more like, “Mrrhhhmm, muhmm.”



He chuckled softly. Then I felt something hard poking at my leg.



“Do you know what that is?” He asked.



I shook my head no.



“It’s a riding crop.” He paused to let that sink in.



I felt him slide the hard leather over my belly and across my nipples. I gasped, or would have if I could with the ball gag in my mouth.



“Have you ever been disciplined?” He asked rapping my butt cheek gently with the crop.



I shook my head no.



“I didn’t think so. With that creamy white skin, the marks would be there forever.”



He pressed the crop between my legs, up between my labia and slide it back and forth against my clit.



“Maybe we’ll play with this a little later.”



And then he was gone. I heard him walk away and go down the stairs. From below, I heard him turn on some music, though I couldn’t make it out through the floor, feeling as much as hearing the bass line only.



I began to panic a little. What did I really know about Greg? And now, here I was, trapped in his house, strung up. He’d already sodomized me, consensually yes, but still an extreme act. He’d hinted at sharing me with a bunch of strangers. Suggested he would whip with me a riding crop. We didn’t even have a safe word, not that it would have mattered since I was thoroughly gagged.



For not the first time, I had the opportunity to think about the past several days, my choices and my life. The notion that I had to submit to Greg to find out if I wanted to be with him was bullshit. I knew I didn’t want to be with him. Knew I wanted to be back with Dave. I was here, in this position, not because I wanted to make a choice, but simply because I wanted the experience, the experience of being well and thoroughly fucked with no limits and no boundaries. Just pure selfish pursuit of pleasure.



Whether it was due to the somewhat confused view of sex I inherited from my mother or my own lack of sexual experience, I’d been having trouble making sense of my feelings. I was looking for an existential crisis to justify myself, but really, I was just horny and curious, and for the first time really exploring my sexual horizons. And oddly enough, that final realization, as pathetic and immoral as it was, set me free from all the angst that had been tearing at me for weeks.



I was being selfish and cruel. Yeah, my background primed me for this moment. But it was what it was. And I just had to own it, try ultimately to make amends, and accept the consequences of my actions.



It was at this point that I heard some movement from downstairs. Voices maybe? Then footsteps coming up the stairs and down the hall. From behind me I could hear someone breathing.



“Greg, is that you?” Mrhruf ruf ra ru?



No answer. I could sense the person approaching. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, I shivered involuntarily. I heard clothes being shed, fabric shifting, a zipper opening.



Though I was expecting it, I was still startled when he touched me, reaching around me and fondling my breasts. They were a man’s hands. Strong, like Greg’s, but rougher maybe? I couldn’t be sure. My senses were heightened, but different.



While one hand pinched my nipples, the other slid down over my belly and down between my legs. His finger probed insistently at my sex, spreading my labia, seeking the warmth and dampness inside. He was pressed up against me from behind. He didn’t feel as tall as Greg, but then again I was stretched out to the ceiling. I felt a rapidly hardening cock begin to rub against my ass.



He was now fondling between my legs with both hands, one from the front the other from the back. A finger slid into my pussy from behind, while another pressed against my clit. I was squirming side to side, back and forth, at least as far as I could strung up as I was. It felt good, naughty and exciting.



The man sighed, and there was something in the tone that struck me a wholly unfamiliar. I gasped and a wave of panic rushed through me. This was the beginning of the gangbang Greg had suggested. Were there more voices downstairs now? How many man had he brought?



I tried to free myself from the cuffs, but it was no use.



“No stop!” I shouted. Ro rhrup.



But to no avail. The man stepped in close and grabbed me around the waist, pulling me back into him. His cock was now between my legs, pumping to get inside me. There was no escape, and then with a rough thrust and a satisfied gasp he was inside me.



His dick felt huge, like Greg’s, but with my legs together any cock would likely feel big. As he thrust inside me, it didn’t feel as long as Greg’s, but then again we’d never has sex standing straight up either.



My analytical mind tried to take over. What were my options? How could I get out of this? But working against that was the insistent thrusting inside me. I know some women get bored during sex, their mind wanders, they make grocery lists, think about work, plan their next manicure. I can’t do that. When there is a dick sawing inside me, it soon becomes all I can think of. And this was the case now as well.



Before long the man finished inside me with a series of shivers and grunts. And then he was gone. I expected another visitor immediately. But none came at first. Instead, I was there alone, straining to make out sounds from downstairs, feeling cum dripping from my pussy and down my leg, even as my hands began to tingle and my muscles begin to ache.



I have no idea how long I hung there. A half hour? An hour? More? It wasn’t quite sensory deprivation, no. My aching muscles, throbbing butt, the feel of sticky and cold jism on my inner thighs, drool dripping off my chin, served as a constant reminder of what I had been doing and probably what I still had ahead of me.



Then there were footsteps coming down the hall and into the room. I tensed, expecting another set of rough hands on my body, being penetrated by another strange cock. It was scary. I had no control at all over my situation. I was completely at the mercy of whatever would come next. It was frightening and… well… oddly exciting.



The man… or was it a woman this time… seemed to be able to read my mind, and let the moment linger. I thought now about the riding crop. Was that what was coming next? I shivered, my stomach doing a flip.



Then, just as I was about to burst from anticipation, I felt the tension on my arms diminish. The cuffs were unhooked from over my head, and then snapped together behind my back. Strong hands pushed me firmly down to my knees, and then as one hand grabbed a handful of my hair, the other removed the ball gag.



“Greg is that you?” I asked desperately.



But the only answer I received was a turgid cock pressing insistently against my lips. It was big. It had to be Greg, unless he was somehow had access to an endless supply of abnormally well-hung men. He pulled me forward, off-balance, and with my hands bound behind me, I was helpless to prevent him from thrusting deep into mouth. He fucked my face roughly, pushing his cock into my mouth deep until I gagged, over and over. I must have been a mess, gasping for breath, slobber dripping from my mouth, my eyes tearing up. But I took it, forcing myself to relax as best as I could, allowing him to thrust deeper than I’d thought possible. Deeper than I’d ever been able to take Greg. I could hear him moaning softly, obviously relishing the feel of it.

As the car backed slowly out of the driveway that Sunday night, her father looking back to make sure he didn’t plow into anything, only Ruth noticed the face in the window watching as they departed.



The teenager resisted the urge to wave, but did allow her sister a grin.



She and Kristen had been fortunate enough to get away with the crime they had committed today, their father never once suspecting that his family had just spent the day having wild and unrestrained sex. They had made every effort to cover up their incestuous antics to be sure, but Ruth knew that the distraction she had given him in the garage had also played a part in keeping her dad oblivious.



Ruth had immediately confessed to her sister how she had dallied with their father in the garage. She remembered with some amusement how shocked the older girl had been when she learned that she had sucked their dad off. The one thing that had stunned Kristen even more was that their father had actually let her do it! Kristen had spent quite some time pestering her sister for every last detail.



The eighteen year old noticed how her older sister’s face disappeared just as soon as the garage door started to close, looking away so that her father wouldn’t see her smile. She didn’t have to be told that Kristen was heading back to have a little more fun with their mother. She almost felt sorry for poor old mom.



Indeed, Ruth had promised to try to give them some warning on her return to make absolutely sure that their dad would once again fail to catch them red-handed.



Of course, after a shocking event like getting blown by his own daughter, it was really only a matter of time before her father found some way to get Ruth alone for a little while either to ask her not to do that again, or instead to beg her to do it again. Ruth had guessed he would need a day or two to process what happened before he was ready to have that kind of conversation, but that had been a misjudgement.



In fact, it had been only a handful of hours after his return from the golf course before he pitched his idea.



Trying hard to make it seem like it was something that had just occurred to him, Roger had suddenly announced that he needed to do some shopping. His office was going to sponsor a little league team, he claimed, and one of his bosses had asked him to look into how much baseball gear costs these days. Since he only watched sports on the television and didn’t play them himself, Roger had asked his youngest daughter to come with him to the local sporting goods store to help him find the best equipment possible for the kids.



Giving him a knowing smile to let him know that she knew it was all a tall tale, she had quietly agreed.



Now, as she and her father hurtled down the street, she could only sit tight and wait to hear what he would have to say.



* * *



Bending down, Ann examined the tupperware containers that populated her fridge, trying to figure out what was in each of them. After the kind of day she had just had, she simply didn’t have the strength to cook a whole new meal and meant to serve leftovers for dinner tonight.



A hand smoothly gliding over her ass made her jump in surprise, banging her head and nearly dislodging an entire shelf worth of food.



“Sorry about that, mom,” Kristen told her, wincing sympathetically. “But never mind dinner right now, okay? Let’s go play some more.”



The older woman straightened up, turning to face her eldest girl while rubbing her bruised head. “But, honey,” she protested, “they shouldn’t be gone for long. We don’t want to start something we can’t finish, do we?”



That brought a little smile to the teenager’s lips. Though she had no way of knowing for sure exactly what would happen between her sister and father, she expected that he would end up begging her to let him fuck her. She’d been on a lot of dates with octopuses who didn’t want to take no for an answer and it looked like her father was just as much a guy as any other man was.



She couldn’t tell her mother any of that, though. She and Ruth had already agreed that they would not let the older woman in on what happened in the garage just yet.



If dad was as freaked out by the thought of incest as his wife imagined he would be, the matter would be forgotten and their mom would never even know it happened. On the other hand, if he wanted to pursue a little family fun with his youngest daughter, or if he proved amenable to the notion of taboo sex with the entire family, then a very different response was called for.



“Don’t worry about that, mom,” Kristen said. “I have a feeling they are going to be a while.”



“But, honey,” Ann persisted, “we haven’t eaten anything but pussy all day! Aren’t you hungry? I’m starving.”



“So, we’ll order a pizza or something later,” the teenager answered dismissively.



“But . . .”



Kristen groaned in frustration. If her mother wasn’t going to listen to reason, a different form of persuasion would be needed. Grabbing hold of the front of her mother’s jeans, she marched off across the house dragging the stumbling woman along behind her.



“KRISTEN MARIE TAYLOR!”



* * *



It was a fall evening, the darkness unbroken even by the light of the moon thanks to a heavy overcast of low hanging clouds.



The local office supply store always closed early on Sunday and so it’s parking lot was now almost clear of cars, it’s scattering of lamps were dark, and there was no one around to witness whatever was about to happen in the four door sedan that had just arrived, gliding to a stop in one of the spaces. The engine was shut off and the night became still again save for the creaking and popping of a hot engine slowly cooling down.



The automobile’s interior was dark to be sure, but the faces of the car’s two occupants were softly lit by the dim light cast by distant buildings and the busy streets. The effect was actually quite a romantic one.



Ruth looked to the man sitting behind the steering wheel, a coy smile playing on her lips. “I thought we were going to the sporting goods store, dad?”



He didn’t answer at first, gripping the wheel tightly with both hands and staring straight ahead, breathing deeply. He could still hardly believe that his teenaged daughter had done what she had just a couple of hours ago in the garage, his mind whirling and spinning as he tried to make the right decision about what to do about it.



“I think you know that I made all of that up, Ruthie,” he would finally tell her, his voice sounding a little hoarse. “We urgently need to talk about what you did to me this afternoon.”



Her smile grew a little at his choice of words. “You didn’t like it?”



“I did like it,” he breathed, determined to be nothing but honest with his little girl during this oh, so important conversation. “I can’t tell you how much I liked it.”



“Well then?”



Roger let go of the wheel when he heard it creaking, concerned that he was gripping it so hard that it might actually snap. He tried to just put his hands in his lap, but was too wound up right now to keep them still and so he clasped them tightly and hoped his daughter couldn’t see how they trembled in the gloom.



Finally, he looked at her and started speaking.



“Honey, I need to make sure you understand just how serious what you did is. Girls your age should not be having sex with anybody. You just don’t understand how easy it is to catch one of those sexually transmitted diseases, plus there’s the very real chance that you might end up pregnant! It’s just foolish and stupid to put your future at risk for the sake of a few moments of pleasure.



“It’s also incredibly dangerous to be having sex with someone in your own family. That’s incest, honey! Trust me, nine tenths of the people in this world would call us both disgusting perverts because of what happened between us in the garage. They’d call the cops, lock us up in a psycho ward, and we’d never be able to see each other again. Can you imagine what your mother and sister would say if they ever found out? Something like this could actually break up a family.”



As she sought for a way to answer him, Ruth knew better than to mention that her mother and sister might not actually be so upset over the idea of incest considering that she had spent the last couple of days having sex with them both. If he was really going to get all bent out of shape over a little . . . family fun, then it would be better not to mention just how much fun the rest of them were having.



On the other hand, if he was saying that he didn’t want to have anything more to do with her sexually, she wasn’t sure that she was going to be willing to take no for an answer.



Just as her big sister took after their mother by being into all things girly, Ruth was following in her father’s footsteps by being interested in all things athletic and, as a result, there had always been a special kind of bond between the two of them. She was not looking forward to putting that relationship at perpetual risk by running around behind his back, sleeping with his wife and other daughter.



With the two of them getting along so well together, with her dad still what any objective observer would consider a reasonably good looking man, and with her memory of how well hung he was still fresh, she was loath to let him put an end to their burgeoning affair.



When she finally answered him, she opted to tell him the truth – just not all of it. “Don’t worry, daddy. I’m not having sex with any boys.”



“Good, good.”



The girl watched him carefully – certain that he believed her, but noticing that he still remained as tense as ever.



He went silent again for a few moments, debating something with himself fiercely. There was more that he wanted to tell her, but he was absolutely certain that doing so would be a huge mistake that he would regret for the rest of his life. Even so, there was no stopping the words now came spilling out of him.



Clearing his throat nervously and looking away again, he eventually told her, “I love your mother, honey. I love her every bit as much today as I did on the day I married her. I’m convinced that she loves me, too. I just want to make sure that you understand that.



“Even so, things aren’t great between your mother and me right now, dear. Like I said, we still love each other and I’m not trying to say that we might be getting a divorce or anything, but your mother and I aren’t as intimate with each other as we should be. We’re both at fault over this, but sometimes it feels like we’re just roommates or friends or something, not husband and wife. We hardly ever have sex anymore either, and when we do it’s nothing to write home about. Our lovemaking has become dull . . . routine.”



“I’m sorry to hear that, daddy.”



He didn’t respond to her sincere statement, the words still rushing out of his mouth. “I just want you to know that I consider it a huge compliment that you might have wanted to do something like that with me. You’re a wonderful person and a very beautiful young woman, after all. With things so . . . awkward between your mother and I right now, I can’t even begin to tell you how tempting it was to try to pursue this with you . . . no matter how weird and perverse it was.”



Roger was kicking himself as he kept right on talking, wondering why he couldn’t shut up. “I mean, it’s a pretty wild and sexy fantasy to think about you and I together, isn’t it? I mean, it’s not every day that a fabulous babe like you comes on to an old guy like me and I’ll never forget the sight of that wonderful rack of your’s bouncing and swaying and I just cannot say enough about what a great BJ you gave me . . .”



Clenching his teeth, he finally managed to shut his babbling mouth only then, looking away with a fiercely burning face.



A small smile touched Ruth’s lips. She was certain now that everything would be fine.



“Well,” Roger said at length, “now that we know we won’t be having sex,” a cringe appeared at how he’d just put that, “why don’t we go back home?”



He reached for the key to get the car’s engine started again, but her hand darted out to catch him by the wrist.



* * *



Ann found herself completely helpless – utterly at the mercy of her own daughter.



The middle-aged woman had been placed on Kristen’s bed this time as the two women were not looking forward to another rushed, last-minute clean up. Given that they had no idea when Roger and Ruth might come home and that he never came into the girl’s bedroom in order to give them so privacy, it just seemed so much safer to play in here.



Standing beside the bed with her arms crossed, Kristen considered the older woman with a pleased smile.



Ann was sitting up against some pillows with her arms stretched out to either side. Her long legs had not been tied down, but were splayed out in front of her. The shirt she’d been wearing only since her husband got home was now pushed up to her chest, revealing her heavy breasts. The slacks and underpants she had seemingly just finished putting on had now vanished, leaving her twat fully exposed.



Though she was happy that her little girl was pleased, Ann was also a bit troubled. It felt kind of odd to be sharing an intimate moment with just one of her girls. She was so used to thinking of them as a team that it worried her a little to spend time with just one of her girls.



She certainly hoped Ruth didn’t feel like they’d cheated on her when she came back and found out about this.



“Now then,” Kristen finally said, “what am I going to do with you?” She was about to join her mother on the bed when something on the dressing table happened to catch her attention.



It was her very best brush – the same one she had been using to get ready for a date just before that first wrestling match with her sister got so out of control and launched them into this incestuous lifestyle. An evil grin appeared on her face as a scheme occurred to her and Kristen paused long enough to collect the brush before finally coming to sit down on the edge of the bed.



Ann saw all of this and was even more worried. What did her little girl have in mind for that brush? Was she going to fuck her with the handle? Ann even wondered if she might actually be thanking of spanking her with it! Her butt was unavailable because of how she was arranged right now, but there were plenty of other places she might decide to whack.



Her mother’s face was an open book to Kristen and she could see the apprehensiveness, but she did not want to let the older woman in on everything that was in store for her just yet. The teen decided to calm her down with a demonstration, rather than an explanation.



Taking the brush by the handle, she ran it’s bristles in slow circles over the back of her hand with a smile on her face, demonstrating just how soft they were. Ann just watched all of this with wide eyes, uncertain.



The brush was then raised towards the older woman’s face, Kristen letting the bristles caress her mother’s cheek ever so lightly.



Ann let out a soft sigh, reassured and not just enjoying the tickling touch, but actually leaning into it. As the brush moved in slow, deliberate patterns over her cheeks and neck, she raised her chin a little to make sure it could roam wherever it liked.



Pleased with her success, Kristen did not keep the brush there for too long, though. Lowering it to the other woman’s heaving bosom, she now worked those bristles over almost all of those drooping spheres. She made a point of ignoring the fat nipples for the time being though, remembering how sensitive they were and watching as they grew harder and harder from the caressing alone.



For Ann, the ticklish feeling had developed now into a tingling one and she arched her back needily, pushing her breasts out to receive her daughter’s attentions. Her eyes were drifting closed and little shivers raced through her as the pleasure swamped her senses, deep moans of delight rumbling up her throat.



“Yes, Kris,” she whimpered, shifting her shoulders as she actually tried to make her breasts move so that the aching nipples would end up under the brush. “Oh, God, yes, baby . . .”



Only know did Kristen let the brush work it’s magic on her mother’s teats. The effect this had on Ann was immediate and overwhelming.



As the bristles made a pass over one diamond hard nipple and then the other, Ann let out a hoarse, choked cry. It was an orgasm, one that swept in so suddenly and intensely that it surprised both mother and daughter. She jerked so wildly as she came, bouncing against the pillows behind her, that the headboard rocked and threatened to tear loose from the bed.



Though caught by surprise, Kristen still had the presence of mind to keep working the brush on those nipples, trying hard to help her mother along by making this climax last just as long as possible.



Slowly and a bit unwillingly, Ann started to come down from her orgasmic high.



Her eyes dancing and her grin bigger than ever, Kristen now abandoned those boobs and started brushing her way gently down her mother’s belly, making no secret of where she was heading.



Breathing hard, Ann bit her bottom lip and waited excitedly for what was coming.



* * *



Ruth had closed the distance between herself and her father without a moment’s hesitation.



Pressing the length of her body into his, the aroma of his manly cologne filling her nostrils, the teenager soon decided that she liked the feel of a masculine frame almost as much as a feminine one. Looking up at him through her lashes, a small smile raising the corners of her lips, she pulled the hand she still held down to her lap, placing it on her thigh perilously close to her crotch.



His eyes were huge and wondering. “Ruthie . . .” She would never know what he’d meant to say.



Leaning in, she pressed her lips to his ever so lightly in a tentative, exploratory kiss, her eyes half closing. Their lips lingered against each other and whispered moans made their way up from the backs of their throats, this first kiss igniting all kinds of fires within them both.



It was she who eventually broke the kiss, drawing her head a little back again. He followed after her instantly, his lips returning to hers as if drawn by some irresistible force. This second kiss was even longer than the first, firmer, and even more arousing. It was joined by some movement down below as well as that hand on her thigh slid down between her legs, firmly griping the inside of her thigh.



Though he had not yet claimed it as his own, Roger would have sworn that he could feel copious amounts of heat radiating through the crotch of the girl’s jeans. He wondered if his inexperienced and virginal daughter might be soaking wet already, but was too involved in other matters just them to carry out an investigation.



At length, this second kiss would draw to a close too, but this time neither of them attempted to draw back. If anything, this was just a momentary break so that they could inhale a new lungful of air.



The third kiss followed swiftly, even longer than the first two and undeniably harder. When his lips parted, his tongue begging for admission into her mouth, she was only to happy to oblige and the couple shared a deep, wet kiss that did nothing to quench the inferno building within each of them.



Breathless, their heads spinning and their hearts pounding, father and daughter stole a moment to get their bearings back, gazing at each other with happy smiles.



No longer holding onto him as that hand showed no inclination to move from where she had placed it, Ruth grabbed the bottom edge of her shirt and hauled it up. Her top came off and she tossed it carelessly into the car’s back seat. This left her topless as she had not been wearing a bra, her full bosom bouncing out into the open.



As his gaze dropped to enjoy the view, Roger had to wonder just why he had thought this would be a bad idea.

I don’t know what this says about my self-confidence, but I’ve often noticed that what attracts me to a woman is how she looks at me. Give me a look that says “you’re kinda nice” and I’ll do anything for you, it seems. Or so my wife, Jill, has pointed out on a few occasions, and she should know. I practically wrote her papers for her our senior year in college, and all because she tugged a stray lock of long blonde hair over one ear and told me, in so many words, that I looked like I was a smart guy.



Fifteen years later, I was apparently staring at another woman at our son’s basketball practice, because Jill startled me by whispering “She’s kind of cute, isn’t she?” into my ear.



I quickly looked away. “Who are you talking about?”



“Who else, Doug? The young little blonde cutie on the bleachers over there. She looks sorta like me: I guess I should take that as a compliment.”



I tried to deny it, but we both knew I was busted. I’d been stealing glances at the bleachers, and at the young woman, ever since the game started. She did look a bit like Jill – blonde, athletic, well-dressed. Squared away. Her white blouse was tailored, but not too tight. Her jeans flattered her figure, especially her trim little ass, which I got a chance to admire when she walked down to the court to give her son (her step-son, I later learned) a water bottle. But they didn’t look like she was poured into them. And she was wearing neat little brown loafers on her feet, not fuck-me heels like a desperate housewife or beat-up tennis shoes like some of the women who’d given up on life and kept the fifty pounds they’d gained after their third pregnancy.



And then she’d smiled at me, which was when she really hooked me, and I didn’t even know her name (Not that I’d wanted to – Jill was my one and only). A smile that indicated there was nothing more natural in the world than that one of the team dads would make appreciative eye contact with one of the team moms. Nothing pervy about it at all, even if she was 8-10 years younger than us.



It was another two weeks before I had a chance to say hi to her. Jill had been teasing me about my renewed interest in William’s basketball practices, but one night she had to go grocery shopping and I volunteered to take him. Her name was Anne, and her step-son Charles was becoming one of William’s friends on the 12 and under team. My heart nearly stopped when Anne said “we should have a play date.” I must have done a bit of a double-take, because she laughed softly and said “that is, I could bring Charles over. He’s told me all about your basketball goal in the driveway. If you think that would be okay.”



I controlled my emotions enough to say that I thought William would love it, and that I’d check with Jill about a good time. Later that night, I made it a point to give Jill the task of calling her to confirm details, although it didn’t stop her from teasing me. “Oh-ho, got her to come over, have we?” Jill talked to Anne quite a while on the phone, in the kitchen while she stirred soup. I strained to hear some of their conversation, but William had the Wii cranked up with some noisy game and I didn’t hear much.



After awhile she came in and sat down next to me. “Soup’s on, when you’re ready.”



“What did they have to say about Charles coming over?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.



“She. Feminine singular. ‘They’ is a plural neuter pronoun, and sometimes used as a cop-out.”



“Okay, grammar Nazi,” I hissed into her ear, laughing, not sure why I was whispering. “What did she say?”



“I invited the whole family over Friday night. Charles and William to practice until they’re worn out, supper to follow, Charles staying over because they have a game that Saturday morning.”



“Okay, so her husband’s coming too?” I said, neutrally.



“Don’t sound so disappointed. She’s not sure, really. He’s got to get his other son over to the ex-wife; technically they’re both supposed to be there but Anne doesn’t think it’s a problem. Usually the ex-wife is reasonable, and they all get along great. Anyway, her husband, Charles Sr., has to work until 6 and then get his other son across town; Anne said he’ll probably tell her to start without him.”



“That’s what she said,” we both whispered to each other flatly, giggling. I stole a kiss from Jill while William wasn’t looking; I needn’t have worried that he would look away from the flat screen TV and the explosions occurring there.



***



That night, lying together in the dark, Jill decided to play one of my favorite games in bed, which we call “I’ll tell you mine if you’ll tell me yours” — what stray sexual thoughts had plagued us that week. As usual, I had to go first. I told her about one of our new contractors in my I.T. firm, a shapely young lady from India who likes to wear saris. I told her the thought had crossed my mind that I’d like to ask her to show me how she puts that thing on, preferably while we were alone in my private office.



“You’re sure that’s the main thing you’re thinking about this week?” Jill asked as I caressed one of her nipples and she rubbed my cock through my underwear.



“Your turn,” I said.



“The whole time I was talking to Anne, I was fantasizing about you with her.”



“Really?” I said, hoping that the immediate perking up of my erection wasn’t too obvious.



“Yep,” she half-whispered, half-moaned as my fingers trailed down her abdomen and curled through her trim bush. “Kind of narcissistic, really. I thought it would be as close as I could come to watching us together, not counting those videos, of course. Like an out of body experience for me. Poor you, though. Not much of a fantasy. She looks so much like me; it would be a busman’s holiday.”



“I think it would be okay for me. In our fantasy world, of course.”



“Of course. Darling, could you go down there for me first? I promise to make it up to you.”



Actually, I love giving my wife head; she likes to talk like it’s a chore because she’s just a little bit on the dom side in bed. I eagerly scooted down and began to cover her thighs with kisses as she squirmed into position; her sock-covered feet on my back. As I began to lightly tongue her outer lips, she began to squirm; she was way more turned on than she normally was at this stage. I went very quickly to inserting my tongue in her. I could have sworn that she had a bit of an orgasm from that, but she didn’t seem to want me to stop, so I pressed on, gently stroking her clit with my thumb, which was covered with her juices. When she began to buck against my hand I gently inserted two fingers and lightly pinched it all together; thumb and fingers on a slippery slope. She threw her head back and moaned. She thrashed so hard I was afraid I would hurt her, then she shuddered and stopped.



“Oh, sweetie, I know I said I’d return the favor,” she said when she caught her breath. “But can you fuck me really hard first?” She pulled my underwear off of me, then turned over and stuck her ass in the air.



“That’s returning the favor, in my book,” I said, caressing her ass and running my hands down to cup her breasts as I easily slid into her wet pussy.



“Oh, god, faster and harder. I know, baby, but I know how you like your blow jobs, too. Pretend you’re fucking Anne; you’ve bent her over the side of the hot tub…”



I nearly came on the spot; as it was I had to stop or it would have been all over. “Oh, you do like that idea,” she laughed as she pushed back on me mercilessly. “Oh, fuck her hard, baby, fuck her hard.”



That took me into that plateau where, strange as it sounds, it feels so good you can’t quite come. I took Jill hard and fast for about two minutes after that, our bodies slapping together, Jill cursing and telling me to fuck her harder. She started coming, and then so did I; I wanted to pull out so I could spew it all over her back, but she kept me trapped, receiving my spunk deep up in her pussy as she sighed with satisfaction.



***



When Anne and Charles came over, her husband wasn’t with them. Anne had the practiced look of a single mom, even though she had no children of her own. Charles and William went outside to practice their dribbling and shooting skills. We sat around on the sofa in our rec room downstairs drinking wine. Jill had grabbed the seat next to Anne on the love seat, which suited me fine. I lay back on the couch and took turns looking at them both. You wouldn’t confuse one for the other, but they really were the same “type” – blonde, toned, and narrow-waisted. Anne was in a sleeveless dress with a skirt that didn’t quite make it to her knees. The main difference was the breasts: Jill’s were larger and looser, while Anne’s were smaller and perkier. I fought back images of taking one of Anne’s entire breasts in my hand, and rubbing on her nipple until it hardened.



We made the inevitable small talk; I was an IT guy, Jill was a lawyer, Anne was – well, she called herself a homemaker and part-time interior designer, but I got the impression that her husband made most of the money and that they had a maid who did most of the work around the house. Charles was her step-son, but she seemed to genuinely adore him. It was a nice conversation, but it served to build that wall of normalcy around the weird fantasies Jill and I had gotten off on. We were all married, upper-middle class people in the suburbs, and that was probably that.



As I was thinking this, Anne’s cell phone rang and she was in a brief conversation with her husband, twisting a finger in her hair. “Okay, see you tomorrow,” she said, and ended the call.



“I guess we’re not waiting dinner on him, then?” Jill asked, taking another sip of wine.



“No, he’s not coming home tonight,” she said as she reached for her glass.



I tried to keep my jaw from dropping with the implications, since we all knew he was gone to take his other son to his ex-wife’s house. Jill tried to give her a chance to cover: “He’s going out of town, then?”



“No, he’s presumably sleeping with Amy tonight.” Anne drank some more wine.



I gave up on trying to keep a straight face. Jill, never one to shy away from the obvious, simply said “Oh my,” sympathetically.



Anne laughed. “I can’t really complain, can I? I started out as the ‘other woman,’ and Amy divorced him because she wanted to be single so she could run around too. Charlie is a great husband and father and takes great care of us; he just works a lot and likes a little variety every now and then. Mostly it happens when she’s going through a bit of a dry spell, as it were, and she calls and asks if she can borrow him back for the evening. C’est la vie, and I’d rather it be this way than dealing with a bitchy ex-wife. She even comes over sometimes.”



I adjusted my legs to avoid my interest in this developing story becoming too obvious through my jeans. Jill asked “How does Charles Jr. take all this? And his brother?”



“Oh, they don’t understand all that’s going on. He grew up with Charles and Amy, so it probably doesn’t occur to him that it’s odd for his father to stay there, and when she’s come over, she’s had her own room. It’s kind of like a sleepover! Sorry, we are way into TMI territory, aren’t we?” Anne said, putting her glass down. “I think his brother Stephen is starting to catch on, though.”



“And to think that Doug felt guilty because I caught him looking at you a few weeks ago,” Jill laughed.



I felt like crawling under the couch, but Anne said “That’s okay; I was looking at him a bit, too.” They were both laughing at that when the boys came down the stairs, hot and sweaty from their play, instantly switching us into parental mode.



“I’ll get some pizza on order; how does that sound, boys?” Jill asked, to enthusiastic cries of joy.



“Why don’t you get into the shower while we’re doing that, sport?” I asked William. “Charles brought his stuff to stay over, right?” I asked Anne.



She nodded and took the cue, which was good; I don’t like telling other people’s kids what to do “Charles, why don’t you take a shower after William does? I’m sure he can show you where the towels are.”



“Okay, Anne,” he said, which sounded strange until I remembered Anne wasn’t his mother. There was a little reluctance in his voice I couldn’t make out, until I remembered how shy I was as a 12 year old to undress around other boys.



“Actually, Charles, there’s a shower in the guest room. I’ll show you where everything is,” I said as William, with the obliviousness typical of his age, had already taken off to his room, which also had a shower in it.



“His stuff is in the car; I’ll go get it and see you up there,” Anne said as we made our way upstairs.



A minute or so later, Anne found us in the guest room. I’d gotten towels for Charles and shown him where more were to be found, and as Anne entered Charles braced himself for the embarrassment of someone unpacking his underwear in front of someone else. She spared him this, simply putting his bag on the bed and saying “It’s all in there, dear,” and retreating. As we went down the bedroom hallway, I stifled a giggle. “What?” Anne asked.



“Poor guy,” I said. “When I was his age I was so easily embarrassed by stuff like this.”



“Oh, yeah, you’re right. My brother was like that. I guess girls don’t go through that as much. Or rather, so much we get used to it.” We had stopped in the dim hallway, and I could hear the showers start up on both side of us. “Say, how many showers do you have in this house?”



“I had one put in all three rooms over here on this side and there’s another in the master bedroom, which is down the hall.”



“Wow.”



“It’s our dream house. Make sure Charles knows he’s welcome anytime.”



“Thanks. We like sleepovers,” she laughed as we descended the stairs to the main living area and the kitchen.



“I’m off to pick up the pizza,” Jill called from the door by the garage. “Make yourself at home, Anne.” The door closed.



“She’s not getting it delivered?”



“We’re just a mile or two outside their delivery area. We like this local pizza place, but one of us has to go get it.” We picked up the wine glasses we had brought up earlier, and I motioned her over to the kitchen table. “Speaking of embarrassing, my wife has a way of prying stuff out of people. I think it’s the lawyer in her.”



Anne laughed. “She didn’t exactly pry it out of me. Wine acts like sodium pentothol on me. Cheers,” she said, and we clinked our glasses.



“More?” I asked, picking up the bottle and smiling at her.



“Why not? You know all my secrets already,” she said, moving her glass over for me to pour. “You haven’t revealed many of yours, though. Your wife and I did most of the talking.”



“Oh, I’m but a humble IT guy. I’m an open book. Like any other kind of engineer, it’s strictly tab A into slot B. Uh, so to speak. God, that was tacky…” I said as she started laughing.



After she stopped: “I bet there’s more to you than that,” she said quietly, looking directly at me. Her legs were crossed, and her skirt was riding up a bit. I tried not to look at her legs. I thought I could feel a little heat coming from her, which wasn’t possible; I wasn’t sitting that close. Perhaps it was a faint scent. “So is Jill’s life with you as complicated as mine?”



“No,” I said, breaking the eye contact by drinking again. “Just one spouse apiece. I will admit, sometimes when we’re trying to get William everywhere he wants to go, with all the hours we work, we’ve joked about needing an extra spouse, and wondered where we could get an ‘ex’.”



“Sometimes two is better than one,” she agreed, whereupon one of those awkward silences ensued. It was either kiss her or start telling her about my job.



“So I mainly do I.T. application security, if you were wondering…”



***



“I left her alone with you, the boys were upstairs, and you started babbling about your job?” Jill exhaled with a laugh that sounded like a sigh.



I took my mouth off her right nipple long enough to say “Jill! I’ve never cheated on you. We were just talking.”



“I know,” she said. “I wasn’t saying to rape her. I’m just amazed that with all that build-up you didn’t neck with her a little, or something.”



“I don’t neck with every woman I meet, either. She might have slapped me.”



“Oh, she wouldn’t have slapped you. She might have raped you, is what might have happened,” she giggled. “Ohhh, I like that, keep going.”



“I don’t know if she likes me like that.”



“She likes you like that. I saw the way she kept crossing her legs. She told us all about her love life. She didn’t have to do that.”



“It sounds a little complicated.”



“Uhhngh. Shut up and fuck me.”



***



On the next play date, Anne arrived in jeans and a sweater. “I can actually go to the game tomorrow, guys,” she said as we began to eat our salads, later on. “Big Charlie has Stephen and is picking up Charlie after the game, and I don’t have any clients to meet.”



“Great!” Jill said. “One of these times you should just stay over with us.”



“Oh, I just live up the way.” I began to watch the eye contact between the two of them. The boys were also paying attention to the conversation. “Not much point, really.”



“Well, the boys like staying up late and playing games,” Jill said. I nudged her with a foot. What the hell?



“Yeah, Miss Anne, that would be awesome!” William said, helping himself to a breadstick. He seemed innocent of everything, except maybe of having been coached a little.



“What do you think of that, Doug?” Jill asked me.



I shrugged, trying not to slosh my wine glass as I did so. “Our casa is your casa. Whatever you ladies decide.” I smiled, trying to make sure I was doing so with my entire face. Exciting as I found Anne to be, I felt like we were heading into major mixed signals territory.



Lest you think Jill and I were experienced swingers, we really weren’t. I’d had a brief affair early in our marriage, when we were both stupid kids. Jill hadn’t known; I felt awful about it, ended it, and eventually confessed about a year later. She wasn’t happy about it, but she forgave me and I spent the next year trying to make up for it. During that time, while she was trying to decide whether she was over it, she made it a point to flirt with every man we both knew. As far as I knew, that had been the extent of the extracurricular activities. We weren’t prudes, but we knew the difference between fantasy and reality, and we knew how damaging an affair could be. Or so I thought.



“Why not stay with us, Anne?” Charles Jr. asked. “It’ll be fun – we could all play a game on the Wii.”



“It’s tempting, but to be honest kids, I’m a little sloshed right now. I shouldn’t be going back for clothes and stuff, and when I go later I’ll be tired and just want to crawl into bed.”



This perked me up. I didn’t want anyone to drive drunk, or tired, for that matter. I was about to say something when Jill spoke. “Nonsense, come upstairs and I’ll find you some things and a toothbrush. You’re about my size.” On one level I was glad she said it; on another I wondered where this was going to lead. To be honest, I practically knew where this was going to lead.



We finished dinner and we all wound up playing on the Wii. After the kids beat the grownups on several games and it started to get late, we made them go to bed and we started doing stuff with Wii Fit. Yoga and red wine are an interesting combination.



Anne got up on the balance board and began to do a yoga pose. As she began to fall over to one side, I reached over to steady her,, and she came down into my arms like we were slow dancing.



“Hi,” she said, as Jill laughed and applauded.



“Maybe we can watch a little TV before bedtime,” I suggested.



With what seemed like a little subtle manipulation from Jill as to who sat where, I wound up sitting between the two women on the couch, our stocking feet propped up on the coffee table, watching a romantic comedy. A large bowl of popcorn was placed on my lap by Jill, and both women reached for it mindlessly as we watched. I knew from having watched the movie before that there was a bit of a steamy scene coming up, and I wondered what their reaction would be. They both dropped kernels of popcorn on my shirt and pants leg from time to time and picked them off of me, which can be hotter than it sounds, especially when they turned sideways to me and reached across my chest, their breasts brushing my shoulder and chest.

The expected love scene came on; nothing outright pornographic, just enough to get the movie the obligatory R rating. The man and woman in the movie, who had shown mostly hate for each other up to then, suddenly started tearing each other’s clothes off and having barely-veiled sex on a spiral staircase. Only strategic camera angles, the occasional long shot, and strategically-placed banisters kept it from being completely graphic. Her breasts and his buttocks were repeatedly, although fleetingly, exposed. Both women seemed to get off on it; I could feel their bodies warm up and when I stole a glance at Anne’s chest, I could see her nipples harden. Just then Jill gently grabbed my chin and turned my face her way – I thought to playfully keep me from looking at Anne, but in fact, she began to kiss me deeply.



“Hey, no fair, I don’t have anyone here to kiss,” Anne laughed.



“I never said I wouldn’t share,” Jill said, turning my face back toward Anne, daring her (and me) to kiss. Another nervous laugh escaped her, then she licked her lips and kissed me. I tried to keep it friendly and not like I was going to eat her face, but Anne pushed the envelope. She licked my lips lightly and quickly, then explored my chin and neck. I could feel an erection forming. Jill began to kiss me too, and then Jill and Anne began to kiss each other as well. They both put hands on my chest, for leverage as much as anything else.



It might seem that this should end with us all naked on the basement rug, but after a while we began to look at each other, then up at the stairs. The boys were supposed to have gone to bed, but boys didn’t always do what they were supposed to. Just like grownups.



After the love scene, we backed off and watched the rest of the movie, which was almost over. My erection subsided, though perhaps not my aching balls, but something told me Jill would be more than happy to take care of that once we got to bed.



Jill showed Anne to her guest room, which was the closest one to our bedroom. When she came back into our room and locked the door behind her, the look in her eyes told me she was horny and ready to go. We were naked in a few moments, and she got on top of me with little prelude. I almost came when she pushed herself down on me, but as we got into a fast rhythm I became fascinated with her lustful exuberance, and focused on ways to push her over the top. I rubbed her large breasts and tweaked her nipples with my thumbs, pushing them together as she whispered “harder, harder, harder, harder, harder” in an increasing moan. I wondered if Anne could hear us, and the thought triggered a gushing orgasm on my part, answered by Jill’s barely-stifled grunt of satisfaction a couple of thrusts later.



A moment later, Jill was lying on her back, holding a cloth between her legs, staring up at the ceiling. “What was that all about?” I asked, meaning everything that had happened since dinner. “Are you trying to get me to have another affair?”



“It’s not an affair if we’re honest with each other,” she finally whispered. “Right?”



A nervous jolt ran through my body. An orgasmic after-shock, or because of what she was saying. “Are you sure?”



“I don’t even know if she wants to play with us. Her life may be complicated enough. But she’s so pretty, isn’t she?”



“Yes,” I admitted. “She is. What do we do about it?”



“I don’t want to push anything or make her feel strange. It would kill William if Charles wasn’t his friend anymore.”



“It would kill me if this came between us. I’ve been there before. Nothing is worth that.”



Jill gathered me into her arms at that, and soon we were asleep, exhausted.



***



I woke up later. I could tell by the darkness it wasn’t morning yet, but I had no idea how long I’d slept until I looked at the clock radio. One a.m. – we’d been in bed maybe an hour at most. Jill wasn’t in bed with me. I could hear a shower running; it wasn’t the one in our room. I put on my underwear and a t-shirt and walked down the hall, curious.



The door to Anne’s bedroom was open halfway. I looked in; the room was dark, but I could tell by the bathroom light that no one was in the bed. I stole into the room, and could see the shower stall reflected in the mirror. Either Jill was down in the kitchen having an insomnia attack and I was about to just spy on Anne taking a shower, with no real way to explain why I was there, or…



But Jill wasn’t in the kitchen. I could see two female figures, shadowy through the steamed up shower door. I saw nipples pressed up against the glass. From the shape of the breasts, I figured they were Anne’s. I knew how Jill got into anal play in the shower. She had a long, thin dildo she liked to use on me, fucking me in the ass with it while she reached around and jacked me off. The flexible, slippery shape would gently stretch my anus and run over my prostate like a finger. It made me come quicker than anything; Jill often did it when she wasn’t much in the mood herself (which wasn’t often), or when she was a little bit mad at me.



Of course, with Anne, she could be using a vibrator in her vagina, which I imagined to be covered with a little tuft of blonde hair, like Jill’s. Or perhaps waxed.



I heard Jill whisper “Do you want it?”



“Oh, yeah, I need it. Slow, slow, I’m so nervous,” Anne moaned.



“Relax. Lean back into me. You have such a sweet little ass.”



Now I knew why Jill was so interested in me being hot for Anne. She wanted her for herself. Not much surprised me about Jill anymore, but this was the first time she’d brought someone else into our sex lives together, and I wondered how much had transpired in an hour to get from not wanting to “make her feel strange” to this. I felt horny, left out, and a bit lonely. I didn’t see any way that me getting in the middle of this would pan out, so I started to pad out of the room and back to our bedroom, not sure what to think. I guess I’d given her permission, or she took it that way. As I started to move, I heard Jill’s voice, a bit strained. “Doug?”



Shit. “Yes?”



Jill lowered her voice, and I couldn’t hear her until I stepped into the room. The smell of sex was surprisingly strong. I could see the shadow of Jill’s arm, and it seemed she was still keeping the rhythm up, slowly “…to bed with us?” Jill concluded.



“What?”



“No, Jill, I don’t have to…” Anne said, weakly, obviously finding it hard to concentrate on speaking.



“Can Anne come to bed with us?” Jill said, as if she was a little girl asking permission to have a friend over.



“Okay,” I said, still processing it all, but happy to be included, anyway.



“Be there in a minute,” Jill said, exactly like she did most nights of our married life, as if she were just brushing her teeth.



I went back to our bedroom. Take my clothes off? What to do in the meantime? Read a book? I got under the covers and was staring at the ceiling when Jill came in, surprisingly soon, leading Anne by the hand. They were both wearing different pairs of Jill’s plain flannel PJs, and I laughed in spite of myself as Jill closed and locked the door.



“Hi,” Anne said, as she had when she nearly fell on me playing the Wii, and she climbed into bed on one side of me. She smelled like sex and a shower. Jill got in on my other side, and I turned to her.



“She’s the one who needs some attention,” Jill said, pushing me back to Anne. “You sort of interrupted us, you peeping Tom. I’ve already come once tonight.”



I looked Anne over while she looked nervously back, and finally said “What do you want?”



“Touch my breasts,” she whispered. I unbuttoned her top slowly, and she began to tremble with anticipation. Lying on her back, they were almost flat, but her nipples were small and had rock-hard points. Her toned chest muscles rippled between them. I licked her nipples and gently used my teeth, switching between them and tweaking whichever one I wasn’t licking with my thumb. She began to writhe with pleasure; knowing Jill she’d been on the brink of an orgasm already when I’d appeared.



Jill reached from behind me and began to rub my cock. I started to kiss down to Anne’s navel. “He’s really good with his tongue, Anne. Would you like him to go lower?”



“I would love it.”



“Take off your pants.”



Anne took off the pajama bottoms, leaving her naked except for Jill’s favorite pair of panties – a black silk thong. I immediately got even more excited when I saw it. I went down between Anne’s legs and she put her legs over me as I kissed and licked her thighs. She was moaning and practically humping my face already, so I closed in on her wet, fragrant pussy, first licking around the thong, then moving it to one side, just like I did when Jill wore those same panties. Her clitoris was wet and engorged, and, as it turned out, she had light downy pubic hair, much like Jill’s, but not trimmed as closely.



I couldn’t see much from this position, but when I felt weight shifting on the bed, I looked up to see Jill’s perfect, slim ass settling down around Anne’s face as Anne began to lick and suck on Jill’s pussy – with great effect, from the sound of the stifled moans Jill began to make as she played with her own breasts. Jill had taken off all of her clothes. I bent down to Anne’s pussy again, stroking the clit with my tongue. Both women began to buck and squirm, finding a rhythm.



Anne began to peel off the thong. I was still wearing underwear, which Jill tugged at as we all adjusted positions. Anne suddenly seemed a little shy. “Can I; can he…?”



“You want to fuck him, don’t you?” Jill teased, taking one of Anne’s nipples into her mouth.



“You’re okay with it?”



“Long as I get to watch.”



“Doug, would you?” she asked as I returned to licking her hardening, slick button.



“Would I what?” I asked. That was mean, but I was getting turned by her youthful shyness and unsureness. I felt like Jill and I were partners in seducing her.



Her face was flushing from arousal and shame. “I need it so bad. He hardly ever touches me.” I moved up and placed my cock at the entrance to her pussy. She began to hump against it, working it in. She was tight, still nervous.



“Are you on the pill?” Jill asked, and Anne nodded. I was glad she remembered; it was starting to feel too good to stop. Her pussy was hot and tight and slippery. I was halfway in. Jill was laying to one side, no longer touching Anne, playing with her own nipples and cunt. I was on top of Anne. We were in the missionary position, having married-people sex like Jill and I hardly ever did.



I took her mouth with mine, and we began to kiss, frantically at first then more tenderly as we began to soothe each other’s pent-up lust. My desire to come was building, and it felt like hers was too, but the pleasure we were giving each other made me want to prolong the moment. Her pace slowed under me, and she began to milk my cock with her tight cunt muscles. She lay back on the pillow, her face flushed, her mouth open. Her strong arms ran up and down my back. Her erect nipples brushed my chest hair. I looked to the side – Jill was laying on her back, fingering herself to the same sultry rhythm., her eyes half-closed, drinking in the sight of us.



Jill’s large, dark, nipples were hardened to points. I reached over to stroke one, and began to feel the surging, tingling sensation in my balls. Anne’s eyes opened wider; she could feel my strokes deepening and my breath becoming ragged. “Oh, I’m coming,” I sighed into her ear, still fingering Jill’s breast.



“Come in me,” she moaned, and I pumped hot come into her as her pussy convulsed, squeezing my cock again and again.



***



The following week, I got off work early and Jill suggested we go to the antique furniture store where Anne worked, to look at some chairs. It was a musty old store in the trendy part of downtown, and when Anne came out to greet us she was elegantly dressed in a sleeveless white silk blouse and plaid skirt. The blouse was a little on the sheer side, and the skirt came to that perfect schoolgirl length, riding the swell of her toned ass and thighs. Any shorter and it would be an obvious come-on, but as it was it undoubtedly got many appreciative looks from the husbands when their wives went shopping.



“Well, hello,” Anne said. “I’m the only one here. It’s a slow Friday afternoon. Kind of warm, don’t you think?”



“This blouse looks cool,” Jill said, touching it on the shoulder in the appraising way women can get away with.



“Yeah, but I picked a bad day to wear wool,” she said, laughing, picking up her skirt and flapping it a bit as if it were a fan. We made our way to the chairs we were here to see, and quickly made our selection. Anne tagged it and took some notes, then we walked back to the sales desk, Anne’s ass twitching ahead of me.



I tried not to look. I’d thought about the other night, and didn’t see how taking on another lover was going to work for either one of us. We’d talked a little about it; Jill seemed reluctant to shut the door on it entirely, but hadn’t talked about it since. When we arrived at the sales desk, Anne was smoothing her skirt with her hands repeatedly, as if to dry them.



I looked up further from the skirt, and saw that Anne’s nipples were visibly hardening through the thin fabric.



“That’s the problem with silk. It shows your nipples every time,” Jill said, moving down to stroke her breast. Anne wasn’t laughing any more. She took a few deep breaths and caught Jill’s hand by the wrist; to stop her, or so I thought. But then she led us further back into the store, into what seemed to be an area for employees, with a plain leather couch



“It’s just the right height,” Anne explained.



“For what?” I asked.



“To bend me over and fuck me.”



And that’s how I found myself with my pants off, Jill sucking me off while fingering herself with her hand in her pants. Anne had already assumed the position and had a finger in her pussy; she’d either stripped off her panties or hadn’t been wearing any to start with, and her skirt was around her waist. The skirt and her heels were the only things she was still wearing. Her blouse and bra were on the couch.



“Is he hard?” Anne sighed.



“I’m getting him hard for you,” Jill said when she came up off my dick. Her blowjobs were usually slow and subtle; this one felt like she was trying to suck the jizz right out of me. It was almost a relief when she guided me to the waiting, gaping, entrance to Anne’s vagina. I was so aroused that I had to go slowly to keep from blowing my wad; Anne was soon pushing back and gasping for me to go harder. My hands were on her sides for support. As I began to pick up the rhythm, I was surprised to feel something cool and slick pushing against my anus. I looked over and saw Jill’s big purse, and realized she’d been carrying a few of her toys and apparently some lube. I sighed and spread my legs a bit more as I continued to slowly push into Anne; I wasn’t in a position, literally to stop Jill, and I figured I might as well make it as comfortable as possible.



With every thrust, the dildo Jill was aiming at my sphincter invaded me a little more. I began to realize it was bigger and firmer than the one she usually used. I was repulsed and entranced, in pain and feeling the pleasure, hoping the pressure wasn’t crushing Anne underneath.



“Help her, Doug. Feel her nipples. You know how I like that,” Jill said, bending over my ear. “It always puts me over the top.”



“I can’t let go. I’ll fall,” I gasped.



“You can’t fall,” Jill said, and I realized she had one arm firmly around my waist while she invaded my ass with the dildo. I reached down for Anne’s breasts, and they were warm and sweaty, with hard nipples dragging across my palms. She was beginning to pant when the little bell on the front door jingled, and it startled me. I came hard, Anne frozen under me with fear that whoever was at the door would come back to the room.



And then Anne was out from under me and desperately grabbing for her bra and blouse. She dressed quickly and went out.I thought I saw semen trickling down the inside of her thigh.



A week later I was back in the shop to pick up the chair. Anne looked up when she saw me coming. I was alone; Jill had to work late, and I was picking up the chair during my lunch hour. “Hello,” she said, looking tense. She looked around to see if anyone else was nearby. “Fine state you left me in last week.” Louder “Will that be by check or a credit card?”



I pulled out a card and gave it to her. “Sorry, the doorbell rang – sorry if we made a mess. We tried to leave things as they were.” She ran the card, not speaking.



“Here’s your receipt,” she said for the benefit of a manager on the other end of the store. Softly: “I didn’t finish.”



“I’m sorry, the doorbell rang.”



“Come upstairs with me.”



“What?”



“Come upstairs with me. You’ll see.”



“But there are people…”



“They never go up there. Besides, the door locks.”



“I can’t. My wife…” “She called me and said that when you come pick up the chair I should make you fuck me until I come twice. Until I’m raw.”



My cock twitched at this. Without another sound, Anne walked toward the stairs, and I followed her.



It was hot and humid in the third story of the old building. Anne opened a door and closed it behind me, pushing a bolt through the door. She took off her clothes as she walked and was naked when she sank down on a mattress on the floor, covered only with some worn sheets and a couple of pillows. I sat down beside her, taking off my shoes and socks. She reached behind me and started unbuttoning my shirt.



When we were both naked, she put her hand behind my neck and pulled me to her. We began to kiss, groping at each other, no strategy, no direction. Her hand found my cock and began to rub underneath the head, jacking me off. I went down between her legs, mainly to keep her from making me come before we really got started. There was a lot of daylight coming in the window, and I could see her pussy clearly for the first time. Her untrimmed bush was light and downy. I took slow licks between my looks at it, watching it get darker and wetter. I pushed her knees up to her chest and looked at her small, tight little anus. My cock twitched. I began to lick her pussy from the bottom up, tapping the area between her cunt and asshole with my pointed tongue. I looked up to see how she was taking it. She was rubbing her breasts with both hands and staring up at the ceiling, glassy-eyed.



I decided I was ready for more attention to be paid to my cock, and I maneuvered us into a 69 position. I bathed her clit with my tongue as wet warmth began to engulf my member. She briefly took me most of the way in, then she focused on my sensitive glans as the warm, sticky air of the room dried the spit which coated my shaft. I tried to match her rhythm on her clit. I was about to come when she stopped, suddenly transfixed by her own impending orgasm, which made her clamp her thighs around my head. Her ragged moans were muffled as I tasted her musky come. I wanted to climax with her, but wasn’t quite there yet, and knew she wasn’t going to be able to control her mouth and teeth for a few seconds more.



While she recovered, I flipped her over onto her stomach and grabbed her wrists. I tried to push my aching cock into her pussy but she kept twitching away from me. Frustrated, I pushed her down on her haunches, revealing the neat little star of her asshole. With my free hand, I scooped moisture from her wet pussy onto my dick and her anus, then began to probe into her with two fingers.



She tried to squirm away from me, but every move she made seemed to bury my fingers deeper in her ass. When she began to rock rhythmically, moaning “uh, uh, uh” in an increasingly gutteral voice, I pushed the tip of my penis into her tight little opening. It didn’t go in very far at first, and her cries turned to annoyed cries of pain.

Chapter 1 – Preacher’s Passion



{Tell us a story!}



{Yeah — we want to hear a story while we get ready to go another round!}



{Make it a funny story,’cos Jo gets all weepy and forgets who she’s supposed to be doing if you tell sad ones…}



Most people have at least vaguely heard of the infamous Salem Witch Trials. Most people, generally, seem to have a vague impression that several witches were condemned and burnt.



As a matter of fact, almost certainly none of the condemned actually WERE witches (witches have always been pretty scarce on the ground even where they are wanted or even merely tolerated; anyone intelligent enough to master the Seven Magics and the Four Summonings that make up the requirements to be granted even the lowest witching degree, that of BW [Bachelor of Witchcraft, which certifies one a true witch, and here's the door, sorry we don't have any job openings on the faculty here at Trismegistus U, write if you get work, we hear there's a gingerbread house five counties over whose original owner was just roasted in her own oven by two smart-arse kids, good luck, bye! [Slam!]] is fully cognisant of the local vibrations, as it were, and has no trouble knowing exactly when she really ought to be going to visit Aunt Matilda, who’s getting on in centuries and has that lovely hut just north of Bad Ass in Lancre in the Ramtops and doesn’t get around as well as she used to, with the result that the local villagers arrive at her thatched cottage at quarter eight with torches, ropes, scythes, rakes and other more obscure agricultural implements and find themselves reading (if they can indeed read) a note on the door that says “Gonne to visitt mye Anty. Please milkke cowe everie daie and looke afterr the batts, Luv, Griselda thee Blacke”.



{What did you just say?}



{Sorry, the management promises closer control will be kept over sentences in the future.}



{Quit interrupting, Roberta, or we’ll never hear the story.}



No, most if not all of the women and men (eleven women, eight men) condemned for witchcraft at Salem in 1692 were innocent, and were, in fact, hanged, and not burnt. Charged, be it noticed, on the basis first of the hysterical ravings of apparently spiteful little girls, and then further tried and condemned on the basis of rather fantastic “evidence” produced, for the most part, by those who were to sit in judgement over them. Thus does humanity — not really far advanced from his original killer ape days — deal with those who differ from the pack in some way.



{Those interested in the real-life details of the Salem trials can find a day-to-day chronology of them an photos of the memorial dedicated in their memory in the tricentennial year after the trials online without much trouble, by the way}



{Who are you talking to?}



However, this is not a story about Salem, the Salem witch trials, nor the rather nasty vengeance some real witches have worked there from time to time in killer-ape vengeance frenzies of their own, but rather about the nearby town of Winston, Massachusetts.



You’ve never heard of Winston, Massachusetts? Not surprising. The townspeople of Winston decided that they wanted to hang some witches, too. Their town, however, differed from Salem in one important and (for them) unfortunate manner — there really was a witch living there.



Unfortunately for the townspeople and to her own subsequent displeasure and discomfiture, Mistress Nicola Hawkworth had a bit of a cold in the head that left her foresight a bit cloudy and uncomfortable to use, so she had momentarily stopped using it about the time the village elders decided that they needed a witch trial to be thoroughly up to date.



{I must say, if that was all it took to be thoroughly up to date in Massachusetts in those days, it must have been a much more restful time and place to live than, say, Kansas City around the beginning of the Twentieth Century…}



{Huh?}



{‘Oklahoma!’, you dummy!}



{Huh?}



{Never mind. [[rolleyes]]}



And, so, when there was a knock on her door one pleasant evening, and she opened it, expecting to find any one of several young (or one or two not-so-young, but still virile) men from the village, come to improve both their evenings, she instead found most of the village with torches, ropes, scythes, etc. in hand; led by the father of the wife of one of her more regular not-so-young but still virile callers.



{In the interests of full disclosure, it is probably necessary to reveal that the not-so-young but still virile caller in question stood a few rows back in the mob, looking sheepish but still half-heartedly brandishing a left-handed Cornish hop-reaper’s hook…}



{Wow. That’s obscure all right!}



{Three-to-one it’s so obscure ‘cos she just made it up.}



{No bets and get your hand off there till the story’s over, you pig!}



{Oink.}



Before she could spew anathema upon them, or even ask if they’d care to come in for tea (she had just worked out the bigger-inside-than-outside spell, and wouldn’t mind seeing if she could, indeed, fit the entire population of the town into her small one-room cottage), Rector Titearse seized her and stuffed a gag in her mouth, as two others grabbed her hands and tied them to prevent any gestures. Another tried to catch her cat, on the theory that it must be her familiar and would bring demonic help if not stopped (correct in theory, but the cat wasn’t her familiar) and got severely clawed and bitten about the hands, arms, neck, face, scalp and left ear before eighteen pounds of spitting snarling blood-covered black cat burst through the center of the mob like a well-hurled ball through a stand of ninepins.



In the aftermath of the cat’s strike, things were a bit confused for a while, and it was only because the reverend and his two helpers held her so tightly that Mistress Nicola didn’t escape. Somebody copped a couple of feels in the process, which she normally wouldn’t have minded [sometimes she even enjoyed a little bondage though she preferred to be the one tying the knots] but this time she suspected that it was the Reverend Titearse, who was, after all, about fifty and wretched. She had always sympathised with his departed wife.



{Not that the Reverend’s wife was dead, you understand, just departed years ago, leaving him with a baby daughter who grew up to just as rigidly anti-fun as he was, which is why HER husband, Goodman Hector Strongpencil, often dropped by Nicola’s cottage of a summer evening when he was supposed to be at the tavern.}



“Ha, foul enchantress, we have you!” barked out the Reverend. People talked like that in those days, right out in public, instead of decently out of hearing in the back rooms of game stores.



Without further ado, she was dragged off to town and clapped into the town gaol. There she was confronted by the Reverend, her accuser, who was the Reverend’s daughter, Goodwife Prunaprisma Titearse Strongpencil, and (still rather sheepishly and definitely keeping behind the others) Goodman Hector Strongpencil, at whom she couldn’t really remain angry, as he was one of her more favored evening visitors.



As they stared at her, she glared back, almost scorching them with the fire of her huge luminous eyes, probably the most striking feature of her incredibly lovely face…



{“Hey! No fair gilding the lily!}



{Right — we know just what those’huge luminous eyes’ looked like…}



{… and, luv, I’m sorry to say that while ‘very pretty’ would cover it, or even ‘striking’, ‘incredibly lovely’ just isn’t in it…}



{Oh, all right…”}



… her glowing eyes. Even knowing she was still gagged with a scold’s bridle and so could work no spells, the three shrank away from her.



Of course, as has been said, it’s not what you don’t know; it’s what you do know that ain’t so that will hurt you.



In this case, “everybody knew” that a witch could cast no spell or pronounce no curse so long as she was prevented from speaking and from gesturing. That was even true about some witches.



Mistress Nicola, however, could control the actions of others with nothing but the power of her mind. Often, such control was more trouble than it was worth — a good old fashioned curse or potion was simpler and more certainly effective.



But, if the person were particularly susceptible to her control, she could cause them to perform almost any act. And those whom she so controlled would either believe that they were acting of their own volition, or would simply not realise what they were doing nor remember it afterward.



She knew, from experience that her greatest control was most easily exerted upon those of small intellect or those of a repressed nature; those of little intellect simply were overborne by the power of her will, while the repressed often were denying strong desires within themselves which they found shameful, “shameful” desires upon which she could play. It was obvious, as her mental “touch” moved over the three, that Goodman Strongpencil, while a pleasant fellow, and endowed with a tremendous… muscle… was not overly bright. The Reverend, while intelligent enough, was so twisted and repressed that his psyche felt to her “touch” like a tightly-wound spring. And Goodie Prunaprisma (Titearse) Strongpencil, while even less of bright-glowing intellect than her husband, was indeed her father’s daughter — so bound up in repression she scarcely needed corsets.



Nicola decided that she would play with these three a bit, while she bided her time until her “trial”. And then she would deal with the whole town of Winston.



“Oh, Father,” Prunaprisma was prattling, “You are so brave and strong to dare to cast this vile enchantress down. Not,” she added, less worshipfully, as she cast a scornful glance at her unhappy husband, “at all like some I could mention, who succumb so easily to her foul blandishments!”



“Well, Daughter, I am, after all, a man of the cloth, and the Lord will protect me if I am strong in his ways. This Daughter of Lilith, who so resembles your wanton mother, shall not deceive me nor prevail even for a moment over me as she did!”



Smiling inside her head, Nicola “touched” the Reverend’s mind a bit.



“But, Daughter, you have never told me precisely what it was that this creature forced your husband to do under her evil spell or even how that spell was cast; if I am to prosecute her properly, I should know.”



Prunaprisma turned a deep shade of red, and stammered, “Oh, F-father, I cannot… cannot bear to speak aloud of such disgusting things!” As she simpered, Nicola “touched” her mind as well.



“Well, perhaps, instead of telling me aloud,” the Reverend judiciously said, “you could whisper to me…?”



Another “touch”, and Pru, blushing even more hotly, stepped to her father’s side and began to whisper in his ear. As she spoke, his eyes grew wider and wider, and fixed first upon the sullen face of the girl in the cell, then, as if despite himself, began to move downward, across her rather lowcut bodice, downward to her broad and shapely hips.



With an almost visible jolt, he brought his attention back to his daughter.



“You say that she ‘touched’ him and thus enticed him?” he asked. His red-faced daughter nodded. “In what manner did she ‘touch’ him?” When she cast her eyes downward and didn’t speak, he came to a decision.



“I must know what happened. If you will not tell me, Mistress, can you not, for the glory of God and the confoundment of the Devil, show me what the witch did?”



His daughter was in danger of spontaneously bursting into flame, it almost seemed, so hot was her face. She shook her head slightly, and turned away.



Another pair of touches from Nicola, and the Reverend thundered “Woman! In the name of God, I demand that you show me what ritual this witch uses to steal the souls of young men of this community! As God gives me strength, when once I know, I can defeat her!”



“But, Father… it is vile…”



“A true man of God is not turned aside by mere vileness. Show me!”



“But, Father, I would be ashamed to do such a thing to any man, even my Goodman, and you are my own father…”



“Aye, thy own father, and thus one whom you must not think of as a man. Since that is so, you may show me what it was without fear or shame.”



“Yes, Father.” She stepped close in front of him. “My Goodman told me, after I nagged at him for days, that he was on his way to the tavern, and the witch accosted him on the forest path, stepping up before him, so.”



“And?”



“And that she said to him ‘Ho, Big Fellow! All alone upon the path? Fear you not wolves or bears?’ and he replied “Not at all; I shall slay any such I see.’ ‘Ah, and what of more tender game?’ she asked, stepping so closely — like this — that their bodies touched…”



“And?”



“And he said that he said ‘Ah, I’ve me old sporting gun for such tender game.’ ‘Ah, ‘ she said, ‘but is your sporting gun loaded?’ and ‘Of course, ‘ replied he, still thinking she spoke of deer or such.”



“And then?”



“And then — oh it is so vile, how could even an unnatural creature as she do such — she reached out and grasped his thing and said…”



“‘… grasped his “thing”… ‘? In what manner, madame, did she grasp what ‘thing’?”



“His, you know, ‘thing’… with her hand…”



“You must show me.”



Closing her eyes, and turning her face away, Prunaprisma reached down a shrinking hand to her father’s groin, fingers fumbling until she touched his organ which was, though he had not yet himself noticed, half-erect. Her hand jerked away as of its own volition, then almost seemed to reach back a bit.



“Is that how she did it? Exactly as she did it?”



“Well, no. I believe she touched it… ummm… more firmly.”



“Show me.”



Though Pru’s face showed no less humiliation, her hand reached out rather more willingly, and her fingers hesitantly closed upon her father’s member.



“Hmmm.” the Reverend hummed. “And was that all that she did?”



“Oh, no — but the rest is so much worse that…”



“Proceed.”



“So she took her hand and she… she…”



“She what?”



“She stroked it.” Prunaprisma murmured, eyes downcast, watching fascinatedly as her hand stroked gently but firmly along the length of her father’s growing member.



“And then she kissed him…” she breathed, leaning forward and kissing her father full on the lips.



“Was… was that all that she did?” enquired the Reverend, seemingly unaware that his daughter’s hand, by now solidly grasping his shaft through the material of his breeches, was slowly but firmly pumping up and down upon it.



“Oh, no — she kissed him again, and she…” leaning forward, stroking her hand smoothly along his shaft, she kissed her father even more strongly, and then, with only slight hesitation, slipped her tongue between his lips, stroking the tip of his with the darting tip of her own.



Without seeming to realise what he was doing, the Reverend’s arms closed around his daughter’s thickening but still womanly body and pulled her to him. Releasing her grip on his cock, she threw her arms about him, as well. Pressing against each other, they kissed deeply again and again; after a few kisses, her crotch began to grind against his, and one of his hands rose to cup one of her full breasts and fondle it.



After some time, the Reverend drew back from his daughter’s kisses, and, still fondling her breast with one hand said, “… and then?”



“And then,” Prunaprisma replied, with no hesitation, dropping to her knees in front of him, “she opened his garments…” fumblingly she attempted to open the the waistband of her father’s black trousers, until the Reverend became impatient and reached down and did it for her, “… and she reached inside and she grasped his thing again…” The Reverend sucked air between his teeth as her hot hand closed on his thick rod, “… and she pulled it out…” suiting actions to words, she exposed the thick eight inch shaft of her father’s cock for anyone watching to see “… and then… and then…”



“‘And then’ what?” her father snapped.



“She… she kissed it and licked it…”



“Show me!”



Hesitantly, she leaned forward, extending her tongue till its tip could just lap up the shining drop of precum on the tip of her father’s cockhead, then gently caressed the tip with her lips… She drew back a bit, then, with a determined expression, she took the head of her father’s big cock into her mouth and began to suckle at it, much the way her baby had suckled at her teat.



A loud moan from her father worried her, and she glanced upward, his cock still in her mouth. Looking downward in his turn, the Reverend saw his own daughter, her hair disarrayed, her bodice and stays somehow partly unlaced, showing the globes of her full tits to any eye that chanced to look… and with the head of his own hot cock in her warm wet mouth.



Not thinking at all anymore, wanting only more pleasure, he stroked his hips forward, pushing more of his length past those ovalled lips and into the warm wetness and incredible sucking sensation of her suddenly whorish mouth.



Reaching one hand down, he placed it on the back of her head and used it to urge her forward, though she hardly needed encouragement. The feel of that cock slipping inward past her lips as his hips twitched, the head nudging against the top of her mouth, the taste of more precum leaking from it, had snapped whatever inhibitions she might have had.



Watched with malicious satisfaction by the witch in the cell and with total bemusement by her uncomprehending husband, she began to give her father one of the Great Blowjobs of Western Civilisation.



Moaning on the outstrokes, caressing his shaft with one hand, fondling her own by now totally exposed breasts and erect nipples with the other as she discovered that, at certain angles, her father’s cock could slip its entire length into her mouth and down her throat, Prunaprisma continued to pleasure her father, until she suddenly pushed back and said over his frustrated moan “And she did other things, also!”



“‘Other things’? Pray, madame, what ‘other things’?”



Rising to her feet, maintaining a firm grip on her father’s rock-hard cock, Prunaprisma glanced around, then backed up to the gaoler’s desk, sitting lightly on its edge.



“First,” she said, releasing her hold for the moment, “She lewdly and willfully exposed herself to him.” Without hesitation, she pulled the front of her dress downward, fully exposing her heavy, slightly sagging but still womanly breasts to full gaze. “… and she made indecent play to entice him…” as her hands began fondling and lifting her own breasts, holding them out for view, then stroking and plucking at her stiffly-erect nipples.



“And then, she did something so lewd and so indecent that I cannot believe even a witch would sink so low… and that was… this!”



With a sudden decisive gesture, she seized her skirt and pulled the front of it up to her midriff, revealing herself otherwise completely nude below the waist.



There was a moment of complete silence, and then Prunaprisma reached out, took hold of her father’s cock, and pulled him gently to her until its rounded head rested against the wet puffy lips of her sex.



They stood like that for a moment, until, with a sound of impatience, she lifted her legs, threw them over his hips, and, seizing his waist, pulled him forward until his entire length slipped into her hot belly.



Again they stood for a moment, but then he began moving slightly and she responded with hip motions of her own; both of them pumping faster and faster until almost his entire length was sawing in and out of her tight clasping cunt as she guided his stroke with hands and with legs locked around his waist.



The moralising Reverend was fucking his own repressed goody-goody of a daughter in a public place! It was incredibly stimulating to watch, and, somehow Goodman Strongpencil found himself fascinated by the sight of his father-in-law’s ass pumping away between his own daughter’s knees. It was as if he was staring through some sort of magnifying lens; he could clearly see the puckered brown spot of the Reverend’s anus.

1



The sun hung deep over the steep cliffside as we took the last bend in the winding road that led down to the tiny village, stuck on the edge of the barren, rocky coastline we wanted to travel during the next four weeks. We had been driving the whole day and were quite exhausted from the long journey, but we couldn’t ignore the spectacular view of the picturesque houses under a fierce sky which was a fiery red mixed with whites and violets, contrasting harshly with the dark grey of the massive stone walls and the rock formations surrounding the village.



This was what we had been looking forward to over the last stressful months of overtime work and exhausted weekends. We had promised ourselves lots of time far away from computer screens, cell phones, meeting rooms and endless presentations. And so here we were, not a city in sight, a hundred miles away from the nearest local capital and, yes, even my cell phone wasn’t working anymore. Just us, the rocks, the sea, and the little village in which the small hotel was hidden, about which a colleague of Susan had told us. ‘If you really want to get out of the treadmill and do something wild, go there’ were her words, together with the warning not to tell just anybody, as not to spoil it. ‘It’s really, really extraordinary.’



The village seemed to consist of only a few houses, but since the proprietor of the hotel had warned us that there was no sign on the outside, I was looking quite intently for the house he had described to me in great detail. When I stopped in the driveway, I was still not quite sure about it, since it didn’t look very much like a place where guests were welcomed, but Susan was eager to get out of the car.



“Even if it’s not the one, they will be able to tell us where the right one is, won’t they?”



Grinning, Susan swung her long legs out of the car and climbed the few steps to the door of the looming building. How I loved her round, tight ass above those lovely legs. I hadn’t been getting it for far too long, with all our long and unsynchronized work hours, and I knew that Susan was feeling the same. I was really looking forward to the upcoming night, even if the house didn’t seem too welcoming or cozy.



Although I understood that with the rough weather conditions in this area you couldn’t build something too exposed or open, the dark walls made out of uneven slabs of granite, the small shuttered windows and the massive door all radiated something a bit too sinister for my tastes. In front of this door on which she just had knocked, my wife looked even frailer than she did anyway. Her tall, slender frame seemed to bend in the wind that tousled her long dark hair, which fell way over her straight, lean shoulders. Oh my, was I horny. I couldn’t wait to step behind her, reach around and massage her firm pointy tits and play with her large nipples. Her breasts weren’t really big, just about B-cups but they were so firm and upstanding, that many younger women would envy her for them.



I was halfway out of the car, planning to do just this, in spite of the probability of scandalizing the entire rural community we had just arrived in, when the door of the house swung open. The man in the doorway was the biggest living being I have ever seen outside a zoo or a National Geographic magazine. He was huge, easily 6 Ft 10, and his massive stocky form filled the door frame like a wall. He had wavy, unkempt, and very red hair and, even from this distance, I could see that his forearms were covered in a thick coat of the same color. Susan took an instinctive step backward and looked up at his rough but friendly face, obviously even more startled than me.



He said something to her that I couldn’t hear because of the strong gusts of salty wind that were whipping through the street. A few moments later Susan turned around, smiling and shouted to me.



“We are at the right place. He said we should come in right now. Someone will take care of the luggage. Hurry up, I’m freezing.”



I locked the car and ran up the steps, my ears and nose already turning cold. It really got cold fast up here, once the summer sun had vanished behind the dark cliffs, as it had minutes before. Susan had wrapped her arms around herself while she waited for me on the doorstep, but I could see her large, hardened nipples very well through her soft, tight sweater when I reached her. Not even Frankenstein’s monster would be able to stop me tonight. I took her arm and pulled her inside with me, into the welcoming warmth that emanated from the gloomy corridor in front of us. Susan was still smiling, but I caught a spark of irritation in her dark eyes when I touched her.



I had no time to wonder about it, since my arm seemed to be pumped up and down by some kind of heavy machinery, revealing itself to be the man who had opened the door for us. My God, my hand seemed to vanish inside his, and I’m not small or anything. I’m well over 6 Ft 1 and I’m keeping fit and muscular, but next to this guy, I felt like a child again, when some uncle came visiting, shaking my hand and hugging me. The uneasy feeling of being unable to resist came back far too easily for my taste. I freed my hand as fast as I could, trying not to appear unfriendly.



“Welcome, welcome. My name is Carl Harris, the proud owner of this little guest house. Please, just call me Carl.”



His voice sounded as one would have expected and filled the corridor with deep vibrations. ‘Little guest house’ didn’t seem to be a completely accurate description, because the corridor seemed to be quite long, with several doors on each side and it opened into what seemed to be a large room at the end. Heavy and obviously expensive furniture advertised the wealth and good taste of the owner, quite to my surprise. Before I had time to reflect on that, we were ushered along to a room at the end of the corridor.



“Come along and make yourselves comfortable. You must be quite exhausted from the long journey. My wife will have some drinks and a meal ready in a minute.”



We entered a room I would expect to find in some villa or a sophisticated club, but not here. It was large, the walls paneled in dark woods, with deep oriental carpets covering the floors. An enormous dining table with a dozen chairs around it occupied one part of the room. The other part was dominated by a huge fireplace in which several thick logs were burning fiercely. The deep leather couches in front of it did look inviting in spite of my growing unease, which did not come in a small part from the huge paw Carl had placed on Susan’s shoulder while he led us in front of the fire. It was so big, his fingers nearly touched the top of her breasts and I expected Susan to shake it off any second, since she was very sensitive about the private space around her, especially with strangers. But she allowed him to steer her around the couch and be pushed into it gently. I exchanged glances with my wife, but saw nothing of the irritation or fury I had expected. Perhaps she was even more intimidated by him than I was. But she didn’t seem to be too uncomfortable, so I let the moment pass and tried to relax on the soft couch and enjoy the roar and the heat from the fire.



Perhaps I was too tense from months of high-pressure work or the long journey and simply overreacted. At least we were where we wanted to be, a long holiday in front of us and the hotel wasn’t the simple country inn I had feared it would be. It felt like an exclusive resort that you got at an unexpected cut-rate price.



While our host went to get his wife and tell his daughter to haul in our luggage, we didn’t speak a word but took in our surroundings, both still wondering how such a place could exist in this lonely part of the world. I looked around for hunting trophies on the walls, but was luckily disappointed. Only some very tasteful drawings and quite modern paintings which fit in perfectly with their otherwise old fashioned surroundings decorated the walls. This was something someone put a lot of thought, effort and money into creating. I wondered who.



Just when Susan let out a long groan while stretching her slender body into the cushions, a flashlight went off and startled us. Our host stood at the other end of the room, grinning, camera in hand.



“Sorry, didn’t want to alarm you, but I just like to take before and after photos of our guests.” His grin grew even wider, showing lots of white teeth. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t believe how tense you were when you arrived and how much more relaxed and changed you look after you spent some time in our little village.”



Everything seemed to be small to this man. He winked at us and put the camera onto a sideboard.



“Just a little spleen I think, but please allow me the pleasure. You will see what I mean when it’s time to leave. Please join me. Dinner will be ready in a minute.”



And it was. And it was plenty. I hadn’t eaten as much and as good in a long time. When we were sitting in front of the fire again, a glass of whiskey in hand, smoking and talking to our hosts, I felt stuffed and relaxed already. After I met Carl’s wife and daughter, I didn’t feel intimidated or uneasy anymore. Well, in fact I was, but in a very different way. Here were two women who fit their surroundings. And their husband and father. Both were big, too. My height and my weight, at least, I would guess. Their hourglass figures were astounding. It was hard to believe, but they carried themselves with the grace of much lighter women and as far as I could see, there was not an ounce of fat on their bodies, except for their bottoms and breasts.



I never considered myself a breast man, but here I had to work very hard to stop staring. I didn’t even try to guess their cup sizes, since those were definitely something way out of the range of my experience. The daughter’s hair was a little bit lighter than the mother’s dark brown. The older woman was wearing a long dark dress that hugged her curves, while the daughter wore faded jeans and a t-shirt under which her large breasts swayed softly. It was a sight to behold. I thought that she looked very capable of handling our luggage, perhaps she put everything under one arm. My slight fear, that our host wanted to touch more than Susan’s shoulders faded after I had met these amazing women. I was busy myself trying not to get wrong thoughts.



The mother, Claudia, introduced herself, looking at me with the smile of a woman who knew what a visitor might be thinking for sure. There was even more mischief in the eyes and the smile of Stephanie, their daughter, who began looking dangerous to me, too, especially since she had placed herself right beside me on the couch, leaving no more room for Susan. I felt her heat more than the fire, but surprisingly Susan didn’t shoot me dirty looks but looked quite comfortable herself. I had expected for Carl to seat himself beside my wife. Instead he sat in a heavy armchair, like the patriarch he obviously was and Claudia sat beside Susan.



In spite of some very unsavory fantasies that ran through my head for some time, nothing more happened other than drinking, smoking and chatting until we were nearly too tired to go up to our room. We told them a lot about our background and our hosts gave us tips about scenic routes we might take and things we might do if we felt that we wanted to do something other than live and let go. They were a little bit vague about how they got here with a house like this, though I didn’t mind anymore. Everything was so cool and relaxed as the evening progressed that Susan and I felt right at home.



We found our spacious bedroom as luxurious as the rest of the house with a bed large and deep and with heavy thick duvets. I was so tired by that time that I only made a very unconvincing try at getting between Susan’s legs and she didn’t seem to be in the mood anyway. The horniness of the early evening hadn’t really faded away, but I was dead tired and a little bit drunk, so sleep came quite easy in spite of my rock hard cock. For a moment I even worried about stained sheets in the morning. That would be a laugh, wouldn’t it?



2



I woke up feeling a little bit drowsy from the amount of whiskey we had consumed the night before, but already I felt much more relaxed than I had during the last few months. I stretched and rolled over to rub up against Susan’s warm, silky ass. It felt absolutely wonderful, but I wasn’t able to arouse her from sleep completely, so I got out of bed, not to spoil the sheets now, after I managed the night quite well. My cock was standing straight out, so I decided to slip into one of the provided thick robes before opening the curtains. The view nearly let me forget my erection, so spectacular were the reflections of the sun on the rough sea, the waves crashing against the rocks, sending sparks of silver high in the air. I hadn’t realized that the building was positioned that close to the sea, only a stretch of rocky surface and some meters of cliff separating it from the powers of the sea. You could probably risk building in such a way inside a relatively sheltered bay, but anyway…



Anyway, Susan was groaning under the attack of the already strong rays of the morning sun and turned away, seeking shelter under her pillow.



“Rise and shine, it’s spectacular out there and I would bet my left leg that there’s a fabulous breakfast waiting for us. Come on.”



Susan mumbled something about my dubious heritage, so I announced that I would use the shower first and if she wasn’t up once I came out, I would immediately rise to the occasion and rape her gorgeous ass that stuck out from under the covers very invitingly.



“Promise?” At least, one eye looked at me now from under the pillow, her ass putting on a little show, her legs spreading slightly, showing me her full, puffy cunt.



“Absolutely.” Grinning, I pointed my erection in the direction of the bathroom and went off.



Knowing that despite the invitation, sex with Susan before she was really awake was only half the fun, I took my sweet time showering. I brushed my teeth, shaved carefully, blow-dried my hair, and did the whole thing, unable to get my cock down most of the time. If we didn’t solve this problem soon, I would have problems going downstairs. I didn’t care much about clothing when I left the bathroom and entered our room again. What a sight I beheld!,



Susan sat on the very edge of a low stool in front of our bed, providing me with a profile of her body that took my breath away. Her feet were standing on tiptoes and her legs spread as far as they would go, creating one line and pushing out the lips of her full hairy cunt, which seemed very swollen to me. Obviously she had played with herself from the state she was in. Now her hands were on the back of her head and she pushed her elbows back, sticking out her tight, pointy tits, nipples dark and hard jutting out like rockets. Wow! She nearly never did that for me, since she wasn’t too convinced about her breasts, no matter how hot I got for them. Her face was flushed and despite her proudly raised head, she cast her eyes downwards in a fascinatingly submissive way. Wow, again. I nearly came right then and there. Day one, and already aiming for kinky games in the morning. What a holiday to look forward to!



“More.”



Immediately Susan spread her legs even wider, and sat even straighter.



But it hadn’t been me giving the order.



I was rooted to the spot as I realized that Carl was crouching in front of her, taking one shot of after the other with his digital camera. I couldn’t even begin to grasp what was happening here.



“OK, that’s a good girl. Very nice. You may let go now, sweetie.”



Carl got up, looming over her, looking down with a peculiar look in his eyes. I was dumbfounded completely. I must have made some sound, because suddenly both of them looked over at me. Susan gasped and tried to cover herself, but Carl never lost his friendly, calm composure.



“Hey, good morning, are you good to go? Claudia has prepared breakfast and sent me up to get you.”



He lifted his camera again and took two or three shots of me, standing there dumbfounded, cock still hard, dripping pre cum. He gave me his best smile, which right now looked to me like he wanted to bite me.



“Oh, you didn’t mind me taking photos, did you? You told me it was all right yesterday. You will be really surprised when you see the whole series at the end, believe me.” With this said, he turned and headed for the door. “And hurry up, or Claudia will be disappointed. Trust me, you don’t want to disappoint my wife. Gets her in a mood for the whole day.”



I stood rooted to the spot, long after his heavy footsteps had faded away.



“You did… you… posed for him! Like this!” I had to force myself from shouting.



“Well, yes.” Susan looked as if she couldn’t believe it herself. She was still cowering on the stool, her legs closed, arms crossed over her breasts, looking up at me through her unruly hair. She looked unbelievably sexy. What did I think?



“But how…why?”



“I don’t know. He just came in when I got up, greeted me and told me to show him my body. And how. And I did!” Now Susan nearly screamed. “He told me to pose in different positions, and he had me touch myself, and I got so wet and horny, but he didn’t want me to come, and ordered me around and around until you came, and…” Her voice faded away. I didn’t know what to say.



She looked up at me pleadingly.



“I really don’t know what happened. And he never touched me, really, he didn’t. And I was horny because of what you said and your hard-on and… Do you think we should leave?”



“I don’t know.”



And I really didn’t. Was she attracted to him? She certainly didn’t flinch when he had touched her the other day, like she normally did with strangers. And she had behaved a bit strange for the rest of the evening. But she was still my wife, and I was here with her and nothing really bad had happened, did it? Despite my now very soft cock, the tingling feeling between my thighs still lingered.



“Let’s calm down first, and have something to eat. Let’s hear what Claudia has to say about it. It can’t be the whole family, can it? If he didn’t touch you, well, the deed is done and I don’t know what we can do about it now. If he really gives them to us, I will at least have a very hot set of pictures of my wife in her prime of beauty. I just hope he doesn’t put them on the Internet.”



The last sentence produced a gasp from Susan as she went pale as a ghost at first and then blushed a deep red. It seemed as if she wanted to vanish into the floor.



It took me a while to calm her down, while I wasn’t too sure about the whole thing myself. Shouldn’t we leave immediately? Would there be more? Could I stop it? Would I stop it? The things he could make Susan do after only a few minutes took me years to accomplish and never without extensive discussions. It had made me incredibly hot. And I definitely needed to stop thinking like this.



When we finally climbed down the stairs I still reasoned with myself about the situation. I could go and beat Carl to a pulp. OK forget that one. We could leave immediately and hope that the pictures would never appear anywhere, as any sensible person would have advised us to do. Or we could stay, and see what happened if anything. It held a certain dangerous appeal, and some little part of me felt strangely attracted to it. Susan didn’t seem too upset anymore. Obviously she craved for some adventure, too. But did I want that? What if Carl wanted to take more than photographs? What if the women of the house came into play? They certainly knew what Carl was up to.



All these thoughts were forgotten once we entered the large kitchen, where a huge table was covered completely by an equally huge breakfast, and Claudia was all over us.

“Sit down and relax. You’re on holiday, remember. No meetings waiting for you. No e-mail to answer. Just enjoy the day and eat. You need all your strength, if you want to live in such rough surroundings.”



I immediately checked for innuendo, but there didn’t seem to be any, for she looked out of the window, surveying the clouds.



“It’s a beautiful day out there. You should explore the village after breakfast, capture the mood of the place. I swear it works wonders. It did for me, for sure.”



She didn’t give us a chance to question her last remark, but I wondered what she did before they moved here. She seemed very capable of everything she did; every movement seemed determined, purposeful. Claudia was bursting full of energy this morning, and she didn’t waste any. We were served by her as if we were in a luxury hotel and the food was superb. Nothing to complain about in that department. If it weren’t for the weird host…



As for our hostess, I had nothing to complain about at all, especially since she showed a lot more skin this morning than on the night before. She wore a top that left her shoulders nearly naked and showed a lot of tightly packed cleavage. Even Susan couldn’t stop staring when Claudia leaned over the table to put just another dish in front of us or to refill our cups. It seemed to me that she was just as fascinated as I was, although probably for different reasons.



I had planned to ask Claudia about Carl’s photo obsession, but when we were done with breakfast, she she was already in her jacket and nearly out of the door.



“I have to go to the next town shopping. If you need anything, just call for Carl or Stephanie, they should be around this morning. See you at noon. Mark my words and have some outside time and develop an appetite. I tend to over cook, plenty and if you don’t get enough exercise you’ll leave here 20 pounds heavier. Each. And I know that you boardroom people don’t like that.”



She laughed as she left, and we laughed, too, relaxed again. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary here.



“Well, should we?” I pointed outside.



“Definitely. I long to see the seaside up close. It looked gorgeous yesterday evening.”



“Then let’s grab our coats and go.”



“As long as there are not too many paparazzi out there.” Susan winked.



We went out joking about it already, as if it was something that had happened to someone else. Denying the possibilities for the moment and enjoying it instead. Fun at last.



3



It was all rugged, rocky cliffs, rough sea, some sand and lots of salty wind, just as we had imagined it. Simply heaven. I once again checked my cell phone. No luck. Or just the opposite. I put it away, determined to forget about work and about my laptop that I had put in the trunk out of habit, for the next four weeks. We walked hand in hand most of the time and felt mesmerized by the landscape and the bewitching little village. Imagine our surprise when we saw Carl waving for us from some way down the beach, pointing at his wrist in between the wide motions of his enormous arms. It was already noon. Susan nudged my side.



“No camera.”



Already we had our little running gag. Or so we thought.



“So you feel it’s safe to approach?”



“Definitely.”



Her grin lifted my soul like it hadn’t for quite too long. We needed this time out desperately.



“Brilliant.” And so we went in.



We wolfed down our lunch, famished by the activities of the morning. The fresh air worked wonders on our bodies and the magic of the place already began to work on our minds. I only had very brief flashbacks of work and was able to push them aside in seconds. Something that I hadn’t been able to do in ages. Perhaps the cleavage and hips of our hostess helped, too. Stephanie was around only for a minute. I would have liked to see more of her proud ass in the tight, bleached jeans, but that was it.



After lunch we decided to take a nap and went up to our room. After we were already in bed I got thirsty and got up again to get a drink.



“I’ll get us something to drink from downstairs. You want something?”



“Room service. I don’t want you to get up. It was so cuddly,” Susan yawned and stretched underneath the covers. “You’re lucky if I’m not asleep when you return.”



“Yeah, room service would be something here.” I grinned.



“But you would call all the time to look at her tits, when she bends over the bed.”



“Hey, you stared, too.” She didn’t take it too seriously. Lucky me.



“Yes I did. They are something.”



“And who says that it wouldn’t be Carl, bringing the drinks?”



“Yeah, wouldn’t it be a surprise?”



The look on her face when she said it made me shiver a little bit. Not to say anything wrong now, I just smiled and went out.



Downstairs there was not a sound. I went in the direction of the kitchen, ready to help myself. Walking through the hall I sensed a movement in the living room and took a peek around the corner. Carl was sitting in his armchair, relaxed, his eyes closed, trousers around his ankles, enjoying Claudia’s mouth, which was wrapped around his cock, her head moving up and down, fucking him slowly. And deeply.



She was fully dressed, but what a sight her ass gave me, sticking up in the air. My fingers itched to grab it or even give it a little slap just to see how tight it was. But what distracted me from her gorgeous body was the size of Carl’s cock. It was like all the rest of him, a little bit off-worldly, a bit too big to be true. He had a cock like a horse, thick and veiny; and when Claudia’s mouth let go of him from time to time with a loud slurping noise, I was able to see his large bulbous head. She was a big woman with a generous mouth, but even she had to stretch her jaws wide to take him in. And take him in she did. I was amazed by how far she sucked him into her mouth, her throat. At some point she started to make little retching sounds and spit was running down her chin freely, but they both didn’t seem to mind. He looked like he was in heaven. I would’ve been, if I would have received such a blow job. They looked so hot. I was rock hard and sure that I was leaking.



Although Susan and I both had stared at Claudia’s tits, I didn’t want Susan to see that cock. I didn’t want to be compared to that thing. My cock was all right, more than enough, but now I began to understand how Susan felt about her breasts. She probably wouldn’t be able to get that image out of her head. I sure wouldn’t.



I realized that I had stood there for quite a while. Not wanting to get caught snooping, I tiptoed off, since even the most relaxed Carl seemed to be unable to withstand the determination of his wife. Just as I was rounding the corner, I heard them talking.



“They are both kind of cute. I like her tight, little titties. Guess she’s got a tight cunt, too.”



“Mmmmhyeahmmmmhcchchcggghchchhh.” How could one retch and giggle at the same time? Were they talking about us?



“Oh my god, YES!”



I hurried upstairs, in a sweat.



—-



Susan was indeed asleep when I returned and I didn’t want to wake her up, but I sure couldn’t sleep now. I sat on the couch in front of the window and tried to calm down. A minute later I had my cock in my hand and was whacking off, remembering the show downstairs. What would I give for such a blow job. My God, I wanted to fuck Susan, but I couldn’t wait any longer. And I wasn’t even able to think about Susan. I imagined Claudia’s tits, ass, legs, mouth, cock, Carl’s cock, ohmygod, Stephanie’s ass, Claudia’s tits, her ass, cunt. I came like a fountain, days worth of come, spurted on the floor. I shuddered and nearly cried out.



After I had cleaned up the mess I slid under the covers and snuggled up to Susan. Despite the turmoil in my head I was fast asleep only minutes later. The exercise indoors and outdoors must have really gotten to me. We awoke just before seven, the announced dinner time. Susan had to shake me awake.



“Get up, lazy. It’s dinner time.”



I looked up at her disbelievingly.



“You can’t be serious. I’m not hungry. We’ve just eaten.”



“Then we should at least go down and tell them. Perhaps we can postpone it.”



“Well, okay, but I have something to tell you first.” Grudgingly I freed myself from the sheets that somehow seemed to be totally entangled with my legs.



“It can wait. Considering the amount of work she is putting into our meals, Claudia will be cross if we let her down, and I think we really don’t want that.”



She winked at me and vanished into our bathroom.



4



We asked Claudia if there was any possibility that we might go out in the village and have a drink before dinner.



“Well, you could get one here, of course.” Her voice sounded stern. At once, she realized that she was pressuring us just a little too much, and immediately laughed it off. “But even the tiniest village has got a pub, if you want to see something else. Lots of atmosphere there. But don’t be put off by the villagers. They don’t take to strangers very quickly.”



She gave us directions and we slipped into our coats. Outside the sun was sinking and it got displeasingly cold. We hurried along the narrow roads and found the pub easy enough. Inside we were greeted by something of an ancient past. This pub certainly hadn’t been refurbished for a century at least. Old oak furniture and panels darkened by time and lots of smoke sucked up the light from the few dim lamps and gave the place a comfortable, but eerie atmosphere. Nevertheless the warmth that engulfed us was very welcome, even after the short walk. There were not too many customers around, only a few small groups and everyone seemed to stay to themselves. We looked for a quiet corner table, and then I went to the bar. A grunt was all I got from the haggard looking ancient behind the counter. I ordered, and he took his time hand-drafting our pints. While he labored he let his eyes wander over me, and then Susan.



“Guests of Carl, eh?”



“Yes, indeed. We arrived yesterday.”



That earned me a look I couldn’t quite place, but he looked towards Susan a lot more interested.



“Feel at home already, eh? They sure know how to treat guests right.” A totally harmless remark, but the look in his eyes was still suspicious. I got the distinct feeling that he was inwardly laughing at me.



“They do.”



I grabbed my pints and fled to our table. This place was getting stranger by the minute. Susan smiled and ripped the beer from my hand.



“What took you so long?” She drained half her pint in one big gulp. “Aaahh, as nice and warm as I would’ve expected. This place is really something.”



“You’re on the money with that.” I offered her a smoke and she lit up, relaxed. “But there are other things that are quite different.”



Against my better judgement, I told her about my experience downstairs, everything that I saw. And heard.



Susan’s eyes grew wider than ever. I thought I would have to slap her, to get her out of her stupor. Then she started giggling.



“He likes my tits? He’s got a goddess like Claudia for a wife and he tells her that he likes my tits while she’s giving him head?” She slapped her hand to her mouth and looked around. “Oops.” But she didn’t stop giggling. She wasn’t shocked. My wife was genuinely flattered.



“Everyone likes a little diversity, I suppose.” Her face turned mockingly serious at that.



“Do you?”



“Well, no. You know what I mean.” I cringed a little bit under her stare.



“Stop kidding me. We already have established that you love to stare at her tits, and her ass, and all the rest, I guess.”



I tried to sidestep the issue.



“He wondered about your pussy, too.”



“Mmmhhh, yeah. And what did you think about when you wanked yourself off?” I knew that I shouldn’t have told her that. “My pussy?” Now she had me. We were always quite open, about our fantasies at least, and I didn’t think this would be the right time to break with the habit. I knew Susan well enough to know that I had nothing to fear. The look on her face told me that this was getting her hot, quite a bit.



“Among other things.”



“I think you imagined her big mouth around your cock.” Her voice was very low now, whispering, aroused. “I bet you thought about rubbing it between her monster tits. And you thought about giving it to her from behind.” She didn’t need an answer. She knew me well enough.



“And after that, after you preferred to rub yourself off, thinking about another woman’s tits and cunt, you want to tell me off for getting wet because this hunk is wondering about my pussy? And because he wants to take my small, tight titties in his big, rough hands?”



While she was a little bit uptight when it got to kinky sex, my wife could talk dirty like any slut when she got hot, and I loved it. But this conversation was heading in the wrong direction too fast.



“OK, white flag waving over here. But let’s not read too much into this. I’m not eager to see you throwing yourself into his big hairy arms when we return.”



“Don’t you? Not even a little bit?” I froze and something in my eyes must have signaled her to retreat. “What I definitely want after we’ve returned is to be fucked and sucked by my husband so hard and long and loud that everyone in the house will start wondering about your cock and my cunt and how raw we must feel. And if you’re decent enough, in another minute or so, you can get us another drink before we go.”



I raised a questioning eyebrow. Normally we took turns at doing that. Hey, we’re a modern couple.



“Look around, man, I don’t think they serve women here. Anyway,” she leaned forward and whispered again, “you’ll be able to get your cock down faster than I’ll get my pussy to stop dripping.” She relaxed and gave me a wide grin. “And although they still use sawdust on the floors here, I don’t think they would approve.”



Half an hour later we were walking back, a little bit drunk and very horny. I thought about skipping dinner. On the other hand, another hour of expectation in the company of our seductive hosts couldn’t hurt. The afternoon wanking seemed to be quite a good idea, in retrospect, because I wouldn’t last five minutes without it. And I wanted to give it to Susan good and long and hard.



5



“Oh my god, I thought they’d never let us go.” Susan dragged me into the room, already fumbling at my zipper.



“Probably they really prey on us. Trying to get us too tired in the evening to properly fuck. Getting us so horny, they can pick us like ripe fruit in a few days time uuuuh.”



Her sharp nails scraped over my cock as she slipped her hand into my shorts. My trousers were already around my ankles.



“Sounds good. But it won’t work.” Her face was glowing. She even smelled horny as she went down to her knees in front of me, sliding my shorts down in the process. Her tongue flicked out, teasing my cock with its tip while she undid my shoelaces. I didn’t have such a full service for a loooong time. Her eyes burned into mine. “I’m planning to get off big time tonight. I want to hear you beg. For mercy.”



I shook the clothes off my legs. It was a fantastic sight to behold as my wife slowly moved her tongue in little circles around my swollen cockhead, while she peeled herself out of her blouse. Her slowly emerging tits and her crinkled, very erect dark nipples made my cock grow the last few inches in seconds until it stood out straight and thick, the veins swollen around its length. Oh my god, it felt so good. I got rid of my shirt, too and stood above her completely naked and ready.



Susan took a short look along my body until she gazed at my cock again.



“Yum.”



Her slender hand grabbed my balls nails first, lifting them, rising my cock in the process. She took it between her lips. Deep. Fucked it with her mouth in long hard strokes until she came away gagging.



I nearly orgasmed on the spot . She had never done that before. One short cough and she was at it again. My balls got so damn tight.



“Stop.”



I grabbed her by her hair and pulled her gagging mouth from my cock. She was retching and laughing at the same time.



“My, I didn’t try this before and I may not be as good at it as the bitch downstairs, but it sure gets results. That’s fun.”



She wanted to continue, but I still had a grip on her hair and pulled her back.



“Spare that for the second round. It’s fantastic and I expect you to do this on a daily basis at least, but now I want your dripping cunt.”



I dragged her to the bed by her hair, forcing her to crawl on all fours. I pulled her up and sent her flying with a shove and a hard slap to her pert butt. She never had a chance to resist as I grabbed her skirt, panties and all and pulled them off her. I had her on her stomach, naked and helpless. She tried to turn around, but I grabbed her knees and pushed them apart, making her stick her ass out for me. Her cunt bulged below her cheeks, already wet and open, cuntlips swollen and thick, protruded out of her thick black bush. I knelt between her thighs and grabbed a handful. My thumb rested in her crack just above her sensitive asshole, the other fingers got busy around her clit. After only seconds my palm was soaked in her juices.



Susan panted heavily under my attack, swinging her ass and cunt in my direction.



“Yeah, I want to see this ass beg for it. Come on spread wider, show me your pussy. Tell me what you want, slut.”



“Want cock. Fuck me, bastard.”



She was so wet, I could easily slip two fingers where normally only one fit snugly. My, my, I wasn’t in any mood to play, either, so I pulled my hand back and enjoyed the spectacular sight of her wet, open, hungry cunt dancing before me for a few seconds. It welcomed the tip of my cock with an otherworldly grip, seemingly sucking it in.



“Ooooh yeeeeessssss.” We hissed together, savoring the moment, the feeling of my cock slowly slipping in, stretching her until my balls rested against her wet flesh. I slipped a hand around her to play with her clit and grabbed her hair again with the other, turning her head for a wet, hungry kiss. Then I let my weight smother her, pushed her flat onto the mattress and started fucking her hard and fast. She needed it as much as I did and my finger playing her clitoris pushed her to the limit fast. Her juice ran down my hand. I felt her cunt contract hard around my throbbing cock. Her whole body shivering, twitching under my weight. I bit her ear.



“Come for me bitch. I love it when I can feel your juice squirting out. My balls are soaked, give me more, make a mess on the sheets. Come for me, come, come, come…



Susan sounded like a savage, angry animal, her noises culminating in a gargled scream, as her body went rigid as steel as she came, while I still pounded my cock into her cunt hard and fast, never letting go of her clit, never giving her room to evade me, bending her head back hard by her hair. I wanted her screams clear and loud. Pure ecstasy. The whole time my cock wanted to explode, was as big and as hard as it ever got and I only managed it just so to just stay on the edge. This was too good. I wanted this to go on for a while.



Very slowly Susan came down again. I released her hair and took my weight off her body while I enjoyed the feeling of my cock slowly sliding in and out of her relaxing, sopping cunt.



“Ooooh my god, that was something.” She shifted her ass against my stomach in a circling movement that made my balls boil. I withdrew my cock a good bit, to be safe from her massaging cunt. She turned her head. “Didn’t you come, bastard? You sure didn’t go soft on me.” She doubled her efforts with a wicked smile on her face, trying to make me give in.



“Oh no, you don’t.” I pulled completely out and let myself fall on the mattress besides her. In seconds she had rolled on top of me, flattening my cock with her smooth stomach. “Stop it, bitch. I don’t want to come on your belly.” She hooked her arms and legs around me and continued her lazy rocking motions.

“But I could make you, couldn’t I?”



“Yes, dammit.”



“Easily.”



“Yes. Stop please.” I was quite desperately holding back now, trying to free myself from her hot body. “I want to fuck you again. I want your cunt.”



“Why don’t you just say so? I fail to see the problem.” With this she pushed herself upright and lifted her hips over the tip of my towering cock. Her dripping, thick lips stroked the tip of it, wetting it again. “Say please.”



“Please.”



Her grin was wider than ever as she slowly lowered herself, letting my cock slide into her steaming pussy. Then she sat there, not moving, her face a picture of pure ecstasy.



“I love that cock. Think you can go through with this?” I felt her flexing her muscles, gripping my cock even harder with the walls of her cunt, relaxing, gripping, again and again.



“Do it slow.” I circled her rock hard nipples with my fingertips, and felt her cunt twitch under my touch. Her nipples jutted out long, and hard, and dark, even the skin of her aureoles crinkled tight. I took a tip between thumb and finger, began massaging and turning it, pulled it out slowly. This was only allowed when she was really, really horny and right now I could pull all I wanted. Her hand fell to her clit and she started rubbing herself lightly. Her whole body shuddered slightly while she slowly rocked up and down with gentle moves.



I don’t know what came over me, when I spoke the next words.



“Come on, stick your tits out for me. Just like you did for Carl.” She didn’t stop, but the look she gave me frightened me a bit.



“I’ll do more for you than I’d ever do for him. You know that.”



“So why didn’t you pose for me in the past, the way you did for him. That was really heavy. And hot.” I jerked my hips a bit to emphasize the point.



“You don’t want to make a scene now, in the middle of a great fuck, do you?”



“No, but I’m still curious. Can’t get it out of my head, especially when I’m horny.” Why did I proceed with this? Some sick fascination had its grip on me. “I still don’t get it, really.”



“Neither do I. But he has got something… uuuh.” She pulled her fingers away from her cunt to keep herself from coming, obviously. “Tell me. When you met Claudia, shook her hand, looked into her cleavage, did you have a hard-on? Honestly!”



“Well, now that you ask…” I cringed a bit. This was sick, discussing these things while we were supposed to be having fun with ourselves. But I had started it. “Yes.”



Her eyes got a mellow look, just the opposite of what I had expected.



“Me, I… when he opened the door and looked at me? And as he took my hand…? I was instantly wet.” She had her hand on her clit again, rubbing harder. “And it clung to me. I didn’t even want you to touch me, as not… to kill the feeling. It was so hard and unexpected… and damn good.”



Now her eyes were begging me for understanding, but that didn’t stop her from rocking and rubbing.



“Uum.” I was shocked. And still hard.



“And when he entered our room the next morning and asked me to pose, he just touched my shoulder and the feeling was back, and I was hot for his big hands and everything, and I wanted to get off. He has a way with words when he wants to and… may I come please?”



Every muscle of her body was as tight as a string and my cock felt like it was caught in a vice. She really was close. I could only nod, rock hard, but far from achieving an orgasm myself.



She lifted up, her fingers a blur, and let herself slam back down, impaling herself hard, uttering a low, gurgling sound, becoming stiff as a rod as she came… and came… and came. I found my fingers embedded in her nipples but she was oblivious to the pain. And came again.



It took her a long time to stop groaning. Slowly she lowered herself until she lay stretched out on top of me.



“Oh god, I’m sorry.”



“You don’t have to be. It’s okay.” I stroked her back languidly. “You got horny, I can understand that. Now you’ve got it out of your system…”



“I honestly don’t know about that. I could just start over again. You really don’t mind?” She looked up at me questioningly.



“At least not as much as I would have thought. That was something else watching you orgasm .”



“But you still didn’t come, poor baby, hmm?”



“No.”



“Well, we’ll definitely can’t have that or else you’ll be crawling after that big-titted broad’s ass before the day is over.” She started moving again. I couldn’t keep my now half-soft cock from rising again. She definitely knew what she was doing. “I want your cum. I want to milk you dry, hear me, not a drop left. I want it all in my wet cunt and in my mouth and even in my ass, if you’re up to it.”



“Well, in that case, fantasize all you want.” She had me, tight, close, and this time I didn’t hold back. When she scratched my nipples and did that thing with her hips, red hot lava seemed to shoot through my balls and cock. I felt like I would lift up from the mattress, hovering in heaven as her lithe body milked my cum out of me. My screams came from very far away.



We both lay still after that for quite a while, but sleep didn’t come. My hand slipped into her smooth crack, crawling down to her tight, and often out of bounds, asshole. I dipped a fingertip in just a little bit, rotating it.



“Mmhhh, still horny?” Susan murmured.



“Yeah.”



“Then let’s do this right. I sucked you before, now you can use your tongue to get me going again.”



In one smooth motion she lifted herself up and turned around. Her swollen, slippery cunt appeared before my eyes. Wow, it looked hot, so big, open and near. It smelled great, too. I had always liked to suck her, but never after we had sex.



“Come on, stud, what’s keeping you?”



Her hands gripped my balls and cock and started massaging them to size. It felt so damn good. Her pussy looked so meaty and tasty. I didn’t mind anything when her mouth went to work on me and her hips lowered themselves, bringing her cunt to my waiting tongue. I opened my mouth wide and stuck my tongue right up her hole as far as I could reach. She squealed when my nose touched her other hole right on target. The feeling of her thighs on my cheeks, her ass on my nose, her, my, taste on my tongue, was too much. I rubbed my face into her with all I had, getting real hard again in her hot mouth.



This was the best sex we had ever had, not only for months but for years. I munched on her thick lips, lapped up my own juices mixed with hers, freely running again. I started to work on her clit with my tongue, lips and teeth. Susan had stopped doing anything conscious. She simply lay on top of me, groaning around my glands, grabbing my balls harder, every time I hit a new sensitive spot.



I was intoxicated, and on a cunt lapping high. Susan’s hands suddenly clutching too hard, reminded me of my own needs. I didn’t want to let her come too easy this time. Gently I rolled over and moved between her widely spread thighs.



“Lift them.” I helped, my hands under her hams, spread her even wider, while pushing her knees to her shoulders. She didn’t mind the abuse and just groaned and spread her pussy lips for me. “No, hands off. Just hold your knees up, no matter what.”



She was so sopping wet with my spit and her own juices. I could easily gather a handful and spread it around her asshole. She twitched but didn’t say a word. Her dark eyes stared at me from somewhere far away in another world. She didn’t even object when I slowly repeated the motion of getting my finger wet in her cunt and working it deeper and deeper into her ass, until she was just as wet and slippery there.



“Want my cock in your ass, slut?”



She only nodded, her mouth open, drooling. I slid my cock into her pussy for a short wetting visit.



“Tell me how much you want it.” Teasing her tight hole with the tip, making her gasp. My free hand lay on her stomach, my thumb teasing her just above her clit.



“I need it. Fuck my asshole with your big cock. Please.” I let the tip build up pressure. Then it slipped in the first inches in one long stroke. “Please, careful. Do me slow.”



I let my hand slip down and stuck my thumb into her cunt, feeling my cock on the other side of the wall, as I attacked her clit with my fingers hard and fast.



“No.”



She let out a shriek, loud and high, as I simply rammed my cock in to the hilt and started to fuck her as hard and as fast as I could, massaging her cunt, letting my cock nearly slip out at every stroke to relish the grip of her tight entrance all over, up to the tip. I wouldn’t be able to take this for long, but it felt so heavenly, her tight ass, her screaming mouth, my power, her juices splashing around my thumb, squirting out against my stomach, while she came and came again until I pumped my seed into her, roaring.



6



The next morning we awoke with a start as thunder rolled through our room. Another flash illuminated the room, since we had left the curtains and the door to our balcony slightly open to get some fresh air. Judging by the small pool of water that had already assembled on the floor, it appeared that the rain had been coming down for some time. I jumped out of bed and nearly fell over the blanket that was completely entangled with my legs. I trudged over to the door and closed it. One look was enough to ensure that it was a very rough day outside. I returned to the bed and let myself fall down heavily.



“Oh my, I feel like I ran a marathon.”



Susan snuggled up to me, throwing a leg over mine, rubbing her full bush on my leg, still spreading dampness on my skin.



“You did, in a way. You never fucked me that hard and long ever before.” She rubbed even more. “I’m still itching, and I may be more than a little raw.”



“Must be the clean air.”



“And the good food.”



“Lots of exercise.”



“And sexy hosts.”



I started to protest, but stopped myself short. What was the point? She had started it this time.



“Maybe all of it?”



Susan stroked my chin. “Probably. I have to pee.” She got up fast, but groaned after the first steps. “Oh god, I can’t even walk properly. My ass is hurting, bastard.”



“You seemed to like it quite well, judging by the height of the fountain.” I winked at her with a grin.



“I’ll get you for that.” She vanished into the bathroom.



I stretched myself out and wondered about the effect the assfuck had had on her. I had never seen her like that before, so out of it, coming all along, squirting and screaming. I was very full of myself to have achieved that. Something for Carl to top.



I shook my head at the thought. Was I going crazy? But Susan had gotten off hard by thinking about him last night. Where were we heading? The sex was heavenly, but the fantasies got weirder, too.



Susan’s reappearance shook me out of my stupor. When she slipped under the covers and snuggled up to me I simply enjoyed the feeling of my beautiful, naked wife beside me.



I was just starting to ask Susan about getting up for breakfast, when someone knocked on our door. We looked at each other questioningly.



“Well, if it’s Carl for another photo session, bad luck for him,” Susan whispered and pulled the sheets higher.



“Yes, come in, please.”



The door opened and the first thing we saw was a trolley aching under the weight of everything you could imaging to have for breakfast. Following it was Claudia, pushing the trolley, greeting us with her widest grin.



“Good morning. Since the weather is horrible and isn’t about to get any better until noon at the earliest, I thought you would enjoy a lazy breakfast in bed.” She stopped after having maneuvred the trolley to the side of our bed. “We will relax ourselves a bit, too, if that’s okay with you two?”



“By the amount of food here, you are planning to put us out of commission for the rest of the day. This could feed us for a week.”



“Not if you continue to be as active as last night. Oops.” Her grin grew even wider. “Excuse me, but the house is not that soundproof. But we don’t mind.”



“We didn’t want to…”



“I told you that we don’t mind. Sorry I mentioned it. And now it’s time to eat.”



She produced two large trays and folded their expandable legs down. My eyes grew wide when she bent over to place them on our laps. I realized that she was wearing a rather thin dress, but I wasn’t ready for how wide it opened when she leaned forward. Her heavy breasts began to swing and push the fabric outwards, letting them practically fall out. Not completely, but Susan and I gaped at her colossal tits swaying before our eyes, while she put china, cutlery, and food on our trays. Again and again we marveled at her very large and very dark nipples, crowning expansive and equally dark aureoles. They looked as if they were sucked on constantly. I had always thought Susan’s nipples were large, but Claudia’s outclassed their size in length and thickness easily. Those were not the tiny nipples you often see in photos of busty women. These were full-size pacifiers in the flesh.



She talked to us about weather changes and possible activities during bad weather, but we didn’t really listen. This show was so unexpected, we were both in shock and horny, me at least. I was very glad that the tray covered my raging, if slightly sore, hard-on.



When she was done she stood up straight with proud and upward pointing nipples on her braless tits, which didn’t sag as much as I would have expected with such huge breasts. They were massive, tight, and bobbing enticingly when she moved. She looked around the room in search of whatever and saw the wet pool in front of the balcony doors, about which we had completely forgotten.



“Oh, did you leave the door open last night?”



“Yes, sorry…”



“Never mind, better than if it was leaking. I’ll just soak up the water.” She vanished into the bathroom and emerged seconds later with our used towels. When she knelt to put them onto the puddle, we could see that she wasn’t wearing panties either, her ample, well-muscled asscheeks presented smooth under the thin cloth.



I didn’t realize that Susan was moving, until I felt her hand grabbing my severe hardon. Her hand vanished after a quick hard squeeze and a rub as fast as it had attacked. The truth was out.



Claudia got up and moved to the door.



“Dig in. Feel free to get up whenever you like. If you decide to stay in bed and need anything, there is a button hidden just above the headboard to call me. I’ll arrange everything you might want.” With that and a wink she was out of the door.



Seconds went by without a word. Finally I couldn’t contain myself.



“Did I just catch the meaning of ‘everything’ right.”



“Sounded like it. That would be really full-service, now. Interested?”



“No use in denying it, would it?” I said, indicating my cock. “Be honest, could you resist, if you were a man?”



Susan squirmed only briefly. “No. I I could barely resist her, and I’m a woman. Her jugs are enormous… and tight… and her nipples! My god, I was starting to fantasize about sucking them. They looked so…”



“Tasty? Meaty? “



“Suckable. Listen to me. I…”



“Stop.” I held up my hand.” Either we throw all this stuff off the bed and start fucking immediately or we restrain ourselves until we’re done with this. And to be honest I’m almost as hungry as I am horny.”



“Only under protest and if you promise me your sperm for dessert. And I want you to tell me what you would do with her, while I suck you off. Honestly and in detail.”



I looked my wife in the eyes, slightly shaken. This was definitely a Susan I didn’t know, but who was I to throw away such an opportunity? The way this went, there could probably come more out of it than just talking. But how much more? Where was the hook?



“Promised?” Her eyes glowed with lust and a kind of hunger I hadn’t seen before. I gulped.



“Promised.”



“Enjoy your meal then.”



—-



“I would love to let her crawl around a bit, on all fours and watch her big tits sway and her cunt peep out between those gorgeous cheeks.”



I had started in much more general terms, but Susan had insisted that I had to be more graphic. Her hand had squeezed my balls, when she demanded I tell the truth with explicit descriptions. Now she was happily smiling up at me, kneeling between my thighs, her tongue teasing my balls and shaft. She took it slow, obviously expecting a long story, urging me on with little bites. “And I would just love to pinch her fat nipples while she is kneeling in front of me, stroking my cock, pulling her down by them, forcing her to to take my cock between her lips. She would have to stick her ass out while I grabbbed her hair and slowly started fucking her mouth by pulling her up and down.”



With these words, Susan started slowly to suck my cock. It was heaven. I continued to explore my fantasies aloud, telling her about how I would fuck her cunt, cum on her tits. Then I talked about how I would take her asshole from behind while slapping her big fat ass. Susan had me in a frenzy with her mouth and hands, teasing and sucking, always keeping me on the edge. There was something beautiful in having sex with someone who knew you so well. I was on the verge of coming, but wanted it to last forever at the same time.



Finally, Susan spoke up.



“That’s all?” Her chin was smeared with spit and pre cum, her lips swollen and sexy from the prolonged sucking. She was so beautiful. “That’s what you do with me. Not that I want to complain, but that’s nothing different from what you always want to do with me. And she IS so very different. There is something different you would want to do with her, isn’t there?”



She didn’t stop looking at me and it was almost as if she could read my mind. There was something that I had admitted to only through hints and jokes until now, and that Susan had always laughed off. She knew it was there though, at the back of my consciousness. I felt ashamed about it and was extremely horny at the same time, the way forbidden fruit tend to do to you. There was something horrible about sex with someone who knew you so well.



She let her sharp nails travel down the underside of my cock, scratching just short of hurting too much.



“Come on, admit it, let it out.” Her eyes taunted me as much as the tone of her voice. There was an amused lustful twinkle in her eye. “She…” suck “…has something…” scratch “…authoritarian about her, doesn’t she?”



“Yes,” I had to admit.



“And you like that. You’re attracted to it, like it or not. Something different than me. Something … seductive and dangerous.”



“Yes.”



“Well…” Her tongue circled my glands, sending shock waves through my whole body.



“Please…”



Susan lifted her head off my cock. Her hands grabbed my cock and balls tightly. It didn’t hurt, but by the look in her eyes, it wouldn’t take much.



“I ca…”



“Yes you can. Need a little guidance?” Her smile was very wide and crooked now. “How would my little darling like to see her towering above him? Would you love to crawl for her, instead? You would love it. You would love to see her strong thighs and her big cunt and her huge tits from down below, hmmm?”



There was no way denying it. My twitching, very nearly spurting cock, the tightening of my balls told her all she needed to know.



“And what would you do to get her attention, little slave?” Her hand tightened around my balls, pulling them away from my body simultaneously. I hissed through clenched teeth under the throbbing pain.



“Lick her feet.”



“Yessssss.” She let go of my balls with a triumphant grin. Her other hand stroked my rock-hard cock very lightly, teasingly. “I know that you have your fetish with power plays, not only in bed, but I wasn’t quite so sure whether you really minded who was on top.”



“But I do.”



“Oooooh, still afraid to admit it? Look at your cock. Look at you lying there, spreading your thighs for me, while I squeeze your balls.”

“I like it very much when you are submissive.”



“Indeed, but you don’t mind if I’m the dominant one, do you?” Still loosely gripping my cock, she slapped my dangling balls hard from above with her other hand.



“Aoooohh.” I could only moan under the pain that shot way up into my stomach, making me want to curl up and hide. When I came to, my cock was still up. My legs still spread, my hands still gripping the edges of the headboard. Ooops.



“No. I don’t mind that,.”



“Since this is now an established fact, there’s no need to stall any longer. Come on, crawling, toe sucking little slave, what would you like your mistress to do with you?” Some short, hard strokes to bring me to the edge, then she continued her teasing, with the tips of her sharp nails now. This was one of the top five hand jobs she had ever given me.



“I would like her to play with my upturned ass.” This was still difficult. I urged myself on. The images came fast and hard and I fought to put them into words. There was no rejection or anger in Susan’s eyes, only lust and playful mockery. “I would like her to slap it hard. Grab it and scratch it.”



“But you wouldn’t dare to stop licking her toes, would you? She has got beautiful hands. Very large hands, but still very womanly and very long, slender fingers.” With her last words, she tickled my asshole with the tip of one finger. “Well?”



“I would spread my ass for her. I would go insane if she would fuck my ass with her finger.”



“You mean hot as hell? Bone-hard? Panting? Slobbering?” She removed her finger and started slapping the tip of my cock, holding it up tightly in her other hand. “That’s cute. It’s so hard and springy. Stand-up cock. Wow, I can slap it pretty hard without it going soft on me.”



I gasped as her flat hand hit my cock again and again, left and right. She let go with her other hand and watched wide-eyed and giggling as my cock was spun hard to the side, slapping my belly, only to swing back up again as if it was eager to receive her next slap. And it was. It was painful and erotic at the same time, and I was amazed by Susan’s face while she did it. She was like a horny, cruel child playing with her new pet. She looked amazingly animated, feral.



“You would like to be her boy-whore, wouldn’t you?”



“Yes, very much.”



“You would just loooove to spread your legs when she don’s a huge strap-on cock, hmmmm? One that fits to the rest of her, really thick and veeery long?”



My ass clenched with the thought but I couldn’t stop the rich flow of precum it produced. My balls started to ache harder than my tortured cock.



A new idea lightened up Susan’s face even more.



“Freeze!” With that she left me there and was off the bed in one fluid motion. “Don’t move a muscle!”



She went to her bag sitting on a chair nearby and opened it. Before I could react she turned around, camera in hand and started snapping pictures of me. Me lying on the bed, legs spread, raging hard-on leaking precum. As I started to take my hands off the headboard and to close my legs, she shot me a look that stopped me dead in my tracks.



“Will I really have to punish you, slut?”



“No.” My mind was in a turmoil. I really loved the role playing and the fantasy involved, but it creeped me out not a little at the same time.



“I think it is only fair since there are so many pictures of me posing like a whore around this house I am of the opinion that there should be equally embarrassing images of the other slut, too. Grab your ankles and pull them up. Open wide, show me your hungry little asshole, fucktoy! Yes, how very eager you are.” She giggled and clicked away as I obeyed her every command.



“Susan, please…”



“No, excuses.” She stopped shooting, cocking an eyebrow at me. “You would love to see all the pictures he took of me, wouldn’t you?”



I could do nothing but nod, still holding the pose she had ordered me in.



“Well, how about I show you what he made me do? Take an identical set of you? Than you would know.” Her beautiful eyes glowed with lust. The suspicion crept up on me that it was not only about taking pictures of me, but also of reliving the experience she had with Carl, but who was I to complain. Obviously, she took the moments it took my spinning brain to formulate an answer as hesitation. “Or would you like me to push the button on the headboard to call Claudia and let her guide you through it? I mean fair is fair, hmmm?”



I could only gasp and push my ass out even further. Could she really mean it? The thought was so humiliating and embarrassing, but also so very, very exciting. Would my loving wife really do that?



She giggled at my reaction. “Naaaah, better not. You would only come all over yourself the moment she enters the room, and your poor hard cock really suits you so well.” Another giggle, then her face grew profoundly stern. I never saw her like this before. “Anyway, let’s get you going. Off the bed and stand up straight … legs spread, yes, further, nice, let those balls swing free … hands behind your back, push those titties out. Good boy. Make your nipples hard, …come on, …pinch them, …harder … yessss!”



And my fall into the abyss began. Or was it bliss? I really didn’t know. And I cared less.



——



Once she got going, Susan really took off. She took photo after photo, ordering me around all the time, teasing, intimidating, keeping me on the edge the whole time without even touching me once. On my feet…on my back …on my knees, my spread open ass in the air, …head on the floor, …my burning nipples scratching the thick oriental carpet, …hands at my ankles, spread wide.



And finally in the position I found her in when Carl took his shots.



“Come on slutboy, sit really straight. I want to see those swollen nipples, and don’t tell me you can’t spread your thighs further. Show your dripping hard-on to the world. Yesssss, that’s it.”



Well, my nipples were swollen, and my cock was dripping precum. My balls ached as if she had kicked them, and my asshole itched and burned from me spreading it, and fucking it with my finger, following her orders. If she had felt only a bit like that when Carl had her posing, I was lucky that I didn’t find her crawling after him, begging to suck his cock.



Did he really have her in each and every one of all those poses in such a short time? Susan seemed to read the question in my eyes. Her smile got really wicked.



“Maybe, maybe not. Maybe your cute little wifey took some advantage of you, seizing the opportunity.” She slowly walked towards me, her body radiating waves of heat. When she stood right before me, she bent down, touched her index finger to the tip of my cock. Gathering juice, she slurped it wetly into her mouth. “But I wouldn’t count on it, if I were you. He is quiet an efficient one.”



She turned and walked to the bathroom.



“All right, get up and get dressed. I had my share of slut juice for this morning.” She cut my protest short, turning a bit towards me, her eyes like liquid steel. “I want you to feel like I felt, hot and bothered and wet. And then cut off by your appearance.” Her voice grew a little softer. “Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not angry, but I felt like such a whore and was so embarrassed. And still my cunt was dripping for the rest of the day. And I thought about it all the time. You were wondering why I behaved so strangely, after that, why I got off so hard? Well, you’ll know after this and a day around Claudia and me, and perhaps that cutie daughter of theirs. DON’T touch that cock!”



With these words she entered the bathroom and left me sitting there, still erect and in heaven.



7



It was nearly noon when I was able to fit my cock into my jeans again and to go downstairs. The whole family sat around the kitchen table, eating some snacks, deep in discussion as we entered the kitchen. My balls hadn’t stopped emitting a slight throbbing pain, but I got my first real impression of what Susan had hinted at when I was presented with Stephanie’s big round ass, sticking out from the kitchen chair. She had turned the chair around and was straddling it. Her profile presented perfectly to everybody who entered the room. Plus her large young breasts pressed against the back of the chair. I very nearly forgot to greet everyone while staring at the texture of her bra shining through her thin blouse.



Claudia jumped up as we entered the kitchen and when my eyes fell upon her, another, even fiercer stab of pain shot through my groin. Hell, what was happening to me?



“So you’re on your feet, …great. You need something to eat?”



“Not really, we just finished the rest of our breakfast. Since the weather has cleared, we thought we might explore the area a bit,” I jumped in. Susan saw right through my plan to avoid being around the women of the house all day and gave me a dirty look, but it wasn’t her who shot it all to pieces.



“That’s a great idea. Since you’re new around here, why don’t you take Stephanie along with you, to show you some of the beautiful spots that your navigation system will never find?” Carl beamed at us. “She’s a good guide, believe me, and she won’t mind, do you dear?”



“Not at all.” Stephanie turned to us, obviously delighted with the idea. “If I don’t invade your privacy too much, I would love to. I always like to take the opportunity to get to know new people.”



Susan’s grin grew very, very wide.



“Fabulous. Then that’s settled. Let’s get going.”



—–



We were standing at the door, ready to leave, when Susan suddenly slapped her head.



“Oh, I almost forgot” She began rummaging in her handbag. “I filled up one of my memory cards for the camera last night. Claudia, would you mind transferring the pictures onto this USB drive for me, while we are away? I seem to be just clicking away, without thinking about memory space.”



With that said she handed Claudia the card. Last night? She didn’t take any… OH SHIT! Her sly smile and the sparkle in her eyes told me all I needed to know. She had just handed our photo session to Claudia and made sure that she couldn’t help herself but take a look herself. A cold sweat broke out on my back, shivers running down my spine.



“Of course I will. That’s no trouble at all.” Claudia looked up, right into my eyes, and I could swear that she knew what to expect.



—–



I wasn’t really fit to drive. Not with that vixen in the backseat, giving directions, leaning forward between the seats, her jutting tits stroking my shoulder. I wasn’t even able to take in the sights that she pointed out, and fantastic sights they were indeed. I had never experienced a landscape so rough and rugged and being so beautiful at the same time.



Stephanie was open and easygoing, telling us about her life, her hobbies, her studies. Chemistry at a very upscale university! Who would have thought? Not me, especially in the state I was in. Thinking itself was difficult enough, while she lead us down rocky paths into reclusive bays. Walking in front of us, her proud ass swayed, while she balanced on the uneven ground. I realized that I never before had any idea what the term “blue balls” really meant. It would have been a perfect day, if I wasn’t preoccupied with thoughts about fucking …and tits …and asses …and sucking …and fucking. I may sound like a moron, but after the photo session this morning I wasn’t really able to concentrate on anything else.



In the evening Stephanie took us to a little restaurant down the coast, assuring us that her mother knew that this was part of her tour for newcomers. As everything else, it was perfect. And it was about the only thing that could take my mind off of sex for a short time, since after driving and walking around the coast for hours I was mad with hunger.



If it wasn’t for my evil wife, whose fingers immediately trailed up my thigh when Stephanie went to the ladies room.



“You can’t see enough of that ass, can you?” Her fingertip poked my groin. “You’re not even discreet about it anymore, ogling her all the time.”



Poke, poke, poke …making my cock grow again. Bitch!



“Well, she doesn’t seem to mind, really.”



“That could be true. I think she even enjoys it, getting an old fart like you hot. If that wasn’t already my plan, I would have to be furious,” she whispered, stroking lightly along the length of my erect cock, which was jutting uncomfortably hard into my trousers “But as it is, it’s fun seeing you suffer. What do you think will happen, if I rub this a bit longer?”



“There could be an accident.”



“Nothing accidental here, my little slut boy. If I want it to happen, you will shoot that huge hot load of come right into your pants here and now. Isn’t that so?”



“Yes!” How true that was. I really couldn’t catch on with my feelings and didn’t know what was happening to me, but it felt too good to stop now.



“Say it!” Her fingernail biting into the tip of my cock.



“I would shoot my load into my pants …here …and now …for you.”



Susan leaned back laughing.



“What a whore you are,” she whispered. The tips of her breasts pressed hard into her clothes. “And what a pity that I can’t let you. She’s coming back.”



Suddenly she leaned forward again, eyes burning, and pressed her lips to my ear. “I can’t imagine how your cock would react, if you could see Claudia and Carl looking at your dirty slave boy photos right now.” With a lick to my ear she left me sitting there, paralyzed and very nearly ready to shooting my load.



—–



We returned quite late, and, with the state I was in, we could count ourselves lucky that I got us home safe on those narrow, winding roads in the dark. I could think about absolutely nothing else but getting back to our room and fucking my wife senseless. Teasing times were definitely over now; slut boy retired for the night.



We went directly upstairs, since Stephanie’s parents had already retired to their bedroom. I was quite happy about this, because I didn’t know what would happen to me, if Claudia gave me a knowing smile and a wink to let me know that she had seen the photos. And I was sure that she had. What were we doing?



My hand was already on the handle of our door when Stephanie, whose room was right down the hallway, stopped and cleared her throat. We both turned to her, and I took the opportunity to scan her hot body head to toe once again. By the amused look on her face, she sure appreciated it. Damn, but I still couldn’t resist letting my eyes drop again a bit.



“Well, since you both seem to like my body sooo much that you weren’t able to stop staring at it the whole day, would one of you mind undressing me and licking me to a nice bedtime orgasm?” She winked at us, turned and went into her room, leaving the door open behind her. “But only one of you. I like undivided attention.



—–



We looked at each other, dumbfounded, or at least I was. By the look on Susan’s face, I could tell that she was thinking furiously, and obviously not about whether one of us should go or not. I know how my wife looks when her pussy is getting wet, and believe me, that’s what I saw.



I didn’t know what to think. Every nerve in my body was telling me to run into Stephanie’s room, slam the door behind me and worship that young goddesse’s cunt. But the still working part of my brain, incremental as it was, told me that I couldn’t just leave the woman I loved standing in the hall to feast on another woman’s cunt. Crazy as it was, I still had a conscience which made me loose the race.



Susan gave me a stare that could’ve melted polar caps while grabbing my hand.



“I’ll make it up to you tenfold, honey.” With that she turned and strode to the open door. Before closing it she said, “And don’t touch yourself.”



—–



I stared at the ceiling, lying on the bed fully clothed, trying to imagine what had driven Susan to follow that girl into her room. She had never had sex with a woman before. We had shared a fantasy about that, and it had gotten her hot at the time, but as far as I knew my wife had never touched another woman sexually. Now she was 30 feet and ten worlds away from me, being the servant of a busty teenager. Undressing her like a personal maid and even licking her cunt. I couldn’t or more accurately wouldn’t allow myself to imagine that or my cock would have exploded in my pants.



Susan hadn’t hesitated for more than a few seconds. Had she been afraid that I wouldn’t be able to resist? Had she just wanted to prevent me from following Stephanie? The look she had given me had told me another story. I wasn’t even sure if I would’ve done it. Not if Susan had told me not to, I’m sure. Or was I? We were both so sexually wired, so unearthed from our normal habits and fantasies…



But would she be able to go through with it or would she be back in a few minutes, horribly embarrassed and ashamed? Well, I would find out soon enough. So I hoped.



—–



The door opened an eternity later an Susan slinked into the room, leaning against the closed door and turning the key with one hand.



And my had she gone through with it! Her lips were puffy and swollen. The front part of her hair was sticky and plastered to her head. Her nose and cheeks seemed to be still glistening with juice. And then the smell assaulted my senses and there was no doubt left at all.



Her eyes remained glued to the floor, her voice hoarse and strained. “Get up and stand before the bed. Now.”



When I started to speak, she just cut me off with a hiss. I followed her instructions. As I stood, she came up to me, still not lifting her eyes.



Dropping to her knees, she started to speak and at the same time opened my trousers.



“It’s a game and I have accepted the rules, and I really, really want to go through with it, and we don’t want to discuss it now. Enjoy and I will explain at least a bit later.”



Then she stuffed my cock into her mouth and continued to undress me, never letting it slip out. I was so erect and sensitive, and my balls hurt, and she rammed her throat on my cock, and she was still fully dressed, and she sucked like a maniac, fucking her face with my cock, folding her hands behind her back, and as she gagged and drooled out of the corners of her swollen mouth she moaned and shivered, and I just couldn’t resist to putting my hands on the back of her head, so that I could push it deeper into her mouth, and she never moved her hands while I fucked her face, fucked her mouth like the cunt she had just licked, smelling Stephanie’s juice on her, and I pushed ruthlessly, and her body jerked from the hard gagging, and I just kept going, pushing, and I came so hard, my god, so unbelievably hard and long, while I had her nose pressed to my stomach. I couldn’t have stopped if her life depended on it and I shot my load…



I fell back onto the bed, my balls aching as if someone had kicked them hard, listening to the noises my retching, cowering wife made on the floor. It felt so good that I couldn’t find a word to describe it.



Shit.



What were we doing?



What had I just done? It sounded like I nearly killed her. Just when I started to get up to look after her, Susan coughed some words.



“I’m fine.” Cough. “That’s…what it was…supposed to…” More coughing. “I’m fine.”



She slowly got to her feet, went to her side of the bed, and slipped under the covers, fully dressed.



“Come into bed and kill the lights.”



After that, she snuggled up to me and whispered into my ear. “I have seen her marvelous tits, and her arse, and my mouth knows everything about her fat nipples, and her cunt, and her arse hole. Even though I was nervous, and a bit afraid, it was fantastic. I will tell you everything but not now. Tomorrow. She guessed our game today, and since I came to her as her servant, she decided to turn the tables and let me be the teased and denied one tonight,. She ordered me to get you off with my mouth, just how you like it and then go to sleep dressed as I am, and unsatisfied.” She swallowed hard. “And tomorrow morning I can go over and ask her for my orgasm. May I tell her that I sucked you good?”

I couldn’t believe my ears.



“Of course you can. That was out of this world completely.”



I could feel her smile happily.



“Thank you, honey, because I’m her little cunt bitch, as long as she wants me to, or until you forbid it. But please, please, please, don’t do that, because it makes me so hot, and I still love you, but I just need that right now. If I talk about this any longer, I will come just by rubbing my legs together and that would completely spoil the game.”



“What is happening here? It’s absurd and strange, and I’m not sure whether it is safe,” I said.



“I’m quite sure that nothing bad will happen to us. At least nothing we really don’t want. And I don’t know what it is, but it is making me fly better than any drugs we ever had. Can we please go through with it? I don’t mind what they will do to me.”



They?



Susan continued to whisper in my ear. “And I don’t mind what you will do. Just play the game. I think we’ve met top level game masters. Let’s enjoy it.”



Oh! Where was this leading? Inevitably I could see my wife being fucked senseless by Carl’s monster cock, and loving it…



“Oh, did I make you hard again? Stephanie expressly forbid me to let you go to sleep with a hard-on, and I really want my orgasm tomorrow. May cunt bitch please suck your cock and swallow another load of your tasty sperm?”



Shit, right at that moment I couldn’t imagine any price being too high for the treatment I was getting from my wife. She didn’t wait for an answer and already had her lips slobbering on my cock.



So along I sailed, into completely uncharted waters, my cock happily setting the course.



8



“Wake up, honey, please.” A wet mouth nudging my ear woke me up from a deep and surprisingly dreamless sleep. When I opened my eyes I saw sunlight filtering through the curtains, but it felt like in the middle of the night. “Come on, it’s nearly nine o’clock. I’m allowed to go over now. Please be awake, in case there are any questions.”



“What?” I shook my head to clear it a bit. “What questions? About what?”



“I don’t know, but just in case…” Slowly it dawned on me that my little Susan kneeled at the edge of the bed, only to wake me up, but she was ready to jump up once she had accomplished that. Ready to go… anxious and eager to play the game… to get her reward. She obviously was awake longer than me and had the time to work herself into a fit of need. I was quite sure the cunt juice I smelled right now was not left over on her face. That was her own fresh juices, fuming out of her, still in the same clothes as last night. And my, were her nipples poking through her shirt.



She saw the look on my face and retreated a bit.



“No, don’t touch me. Not now.” She staggered to her feet and I had the slight impression that she even drooled a bit. ” I can go over now and I will. Please don’t be angry. I just can’t help it. You will get yours, however you want it. She promised. If I behave…”



She was slowly walking backwards, fixing me with a smoldering gaze. She reached for the key, turned it without looking and opened the door.



“See you soon.”



And with that she was gone, the door slamming behind her, and I was left, still confused and damn horny again.



—–



“Hellooo, breakfast is coming!” I snapped out of my reverie when the door opened and Claudia just barged in, never waiting for an answer. She pushed the breakfast cart into the room, radiating her usual air of sexiness. I pulled the cover a bit higher, which produced a little laugh from her.



“Oh come on, nothing there I haven’t seen already, is there? At least on some very nice pictures.” Her wide grin seemed threatening all of a sudden. “I’ve fried you some eggs and sausages. You will definitely want to eat them while they’re fresh and warm. For your wife I’ve prepared some things that will keep, until she’s done down the hall.”



She knew, and she handled it as if it was completely natural. Well nearly. Once I was able to tear my eyes from her smiling face, I noticed some differences. It seemed that her nipples were poking harder than ever through the material of her dress, and her body language signaled sexual tension, despite the casualness of her words. Wasn’t that dress even tighter than her normal ones?



Shit! It definitely didn’t show as much skin as the other ones. Dark. Closed around her neck, long sleeves, long skirt nearly to the ankles of her boots, but extremely tight. Showing off every single curve to perfection. Her tits pushed into pointy cones, jutting aggressively out, presenting a rocket like profile. It looked strict. That was it exactly. Schoolteacher on speed, aggressive nanny with a hidden whip, atomic headmistress. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. She had me there, and if she just pulled away my blanket I wouldn’t be able to hide it. She wouldn’t need to do even that. Right now, right here, a single command and I would do it by myself.



I caught myself staring, dumbfounded, obvious. She even had made me forget about Susan for a second, but I couldn’t let her remark go without comment, could I? I decided to play it casual.



“By the state she was in, it won’t take her long, I assume.”



“Oh, don’t underestimate my darling daughter. From what I hear, she likes to play it long and dirty, just like her parents.” Her smile was predatory now, and she had left me speechless. Instead of serving breakfast on the bed, like she had before, she pushed the cart to a table in the corner of the room and began laying it out, which gave me quite a view of her gorgeous backside every time she leaned forward. Not something to soften my raging hard-on. I thought about jumping out of bed and fleeing to the bathroom to get a robe, but was unable to pry my eyes off her long legs in the tight skirt. And then the moment was gone.



She turned around and fixed me with a luscious stare.



“So come on, aren’t you hungry. I told you to enjoy your breakfast while it’s fresh and warm.”



“Ahm…” I squirmed. She became irritated.



“You know very well, why your wife gave us the memory card with those images of you, don’t you? She wanted us to have them alongside hers, and I must admit I liked what I saw very much. So don’t pretend to be shy and present the goods. Pull that blanket off NOW!”



And I did, unable to resist this order from the dominant goddess standing tall and erect only a few steps away. My solid erection told all about how her act was getting to me. Her grin widened accordingly.



“Now, that’s what I want to see. Get up, and come here and…” The ringing of the telephone interrupted her. It was the house phone, standing on a small table near the window. “I would get that if I were you. Must be your pretty little wifey, since no one else can get through right now.”



Confused, I jumped off the bed and hurried to the phone.



“Yes?”



“Good morning.” Not my wife. Stephanie. “I don’t want to interrupt you or anything, but I have a few questions. Ready?”



“Of course.”



“Are you naked right now?”



“Well…yes.” No use in lying to her.



“Do you have a boner?”



“Yes, I have.” I blushed, even though she couldn’t see me.



“Mhhh, that’s nice to think of, but it gives me the impression that your wife didn’t take care of you last night quite well enough, as I told her to.” I could practically hear her smirk. Claudia was right, Susan had to work for her release a lot longer than I would have thought.



“But she did, very, very well, indeed. Two times even.”



Claudia sauntered over, leaned against the wall, facing me. Stephanie giggled at the other end of the line.



“Oh my, you should see her face. I doubt your wife ever looked at you so desperately. Well, I think I can actually see little tears forming in her eyes, just because she is so desperate for permission to stuff her dirty, floor crawling fingers into her drooling cunt.”



A gasp escaped my lips. With perfect timing to this, Claudia’s sharp fingernails lightly scraped across my balls.



“Oh, do you like that. You want to hear more? Let me tell you. This little bitch is right now kneeling in front of me, presenting here cute little titties, pinching those nipples like it’s the most important job in the world. Which it is right now for her, I assume, since I won’t allow her to move her hands before she has done it properly. And with properly, I mean harder than what she is doing right now.” I heard Susan moan in the background. “NOW she is doing it right, finally and keeping her mouth open, always showing me that nice, long tongue of hers. She can become a quite accomplished cunt licker, given proper training.” Claudia’s hand wrapped around my cock, stroking it lightly from the base to the head. I could only moan.



“Well, enough talk, this seems to excite you way too much. So in your opinion, the bitch has earned her orgasm?”



“Yes, very much.” I said as firm as I could with a hand on my cock and the tip of a fingernail now scraping my nipple.



“All right, I’ll keep that in mind while I make my decision. And one very last question, is my Mom with you?”



“Yes, she is.”



Her voice became teasing. “Then be a good boy. Bye”



I put the phone down and looked at Claudia. She didn’t stop working my cock and nipple. Her look was scrutinizing.



“Your cock is hard, your eyes are feasting on me and my daughter whenever you can, but from what I hear you still have your doubts about what is happening here. Is that so?”



“Well..uuh..” I really didn’t know what to say.



“Your wife did a lot of talking last night, even though she was extremely eager to occupy her mouth otherwise, and I mean a lot! So tell me, what restrains you from fully enjoying what your wife describes as the best sex you two had in years?” Her hand didn’t stop teasing me, never letting me come too close to the edge, without ever letting her eyes wander from mine, fixing me to the spot with her stern gaze. “And no small part of this fabulous sex did happen while you fantasized about me and my husband, didn’t it? So what still prevents you from enjoying even more excellent sex with two big-titted first class women? Your wife has no objections whatsoever. She is even urging you on now and beat you to the prize next door. You can’t seriously be afraid that she’s having fun, too, I don’t think that you’re such a moron.”



I didn’t know what to say. I just stood there, swaying slightly, following the movement of her hand on my cock.



“And she sure is having a lot of ‘fun’ right now, without you.” She paused for a moment. “Or are you afraid? Afraid that she will love Carl’s cock too much? His really, really huge, fat dick that you’ve watched me sucking? Well, then you’ve made an equally huge mistake by telling her about it. What did you expect from her? She was as attracted to him from the beginning, as you were attracted to me. And then you tell her how well hung he is. Do you really think a woman doesn’t get curious under such circumstances? Gets tickled by it? Wants to see him as much as you wanted to see my tits, until I displayed them to you that morning, serving breakfast? Wants to touch him as much as you want to touch my tits right now?”



My hand lifted as if on its own, moving to her jutting breasts. She just slapped it away lightly.



“No touching yet. No touching, until you decide what you really want. What we are doing here is a service provided to guests who we like and are attracted to, but it’s only fun if everyone involved is doing it without objections, without limiting themselves from really fulfilling the fantasies they never imagined could be reality. Your wife is well on her way, and it would be a pity if you would put a stop to that, for her and for you, too, believe me. But you must decide, not now with your helpless cock in my hand and your brain in your balls, but until tonight. Do you understand this? Or else, enjoy your holiday and take care of yourselves.”



“Yes, ok, I…” What kind of slobbering idiot was I?



“Let me tell you how we will play it. If you want all this to stop, stay in your room tonight. If you want to commence, get naked and go to my daughter’s room. She will be your touchstone. Since there are other things you seem to be uncertain about, you will show us your decision in that regard, by either grabbing the bitch and just fucking the hell out of her in every way possible… or by dropping to your knees and worshipping your rightful goddess’s daughter to show us what you are. Understood?”



What the hell did Susan tell them? Obviously she was so enthralled that…



“If he hasn’t, I will explain it to him later,” Susan said. My head jerked around to her. I just had time to register my wife standing naked in the doorframe, her eyes on Claudia’s cock working hand. She was wearing a leather choker with a leash dangling to her thighs, thighs that were glistening wet with her juices… and that was the moment I came all over Claudia’s hand, which had picked up speed and motion once Susan started talking.



My whole body jerked upright. I didn’t just moan, I shouted out my lust while her long fingers were working me, milking me with expert motion. Every muscle in my body was tensed up and rigid, I couldn’t have moved an inch. Fantastic, hot, unbelievable…



“That’s very nice of you dear, I seem to have talked way too much already, anyway. Or should I call you cunt bitch now? You’ve obviously earned it.”



Still working me, still pulling the last drops of come out of my aching cock.



“That would be nice, thank you.” Susan lowered her gaze to the floor while sticking her tits out at the same time. She even spread her legs a little wider. Finally, Claudia let go of me and held out her hand to Susan.



“He’s a juicy one. What a lot of sperm. Would you care, cute little cunt bitch?”



“Not at all.” My naked wife just walked over, dropped to her knees in front of Claudia and began licking and sucking my sperm off her graciously offered hand. Swallowing.



“That is good enough dear, but don’t forget his spill on the floor.” At her words my wife immediately dropped down on all fours and started lapping the puddles of cum off the floorboards.



“I will leave you two alone now. Remember, tonight is the night.” And with those words, she was gone.



Susan was entirely into her role and didn’t stop until she had sucked up every drop of come. Then she collapsed onto her butt, sitting on the floor, her legs spread, her wet and swollen cunt on display, so beautiful and hot, her tits presented. She shook back her mangled hair, blew me a kiss and gave me the sluttiest come-on look I EVER had from her.



“Will I get a real breakfast now? That much fabulous sex is giving me an appetite.”



Shit.



—–



I still couldn’t believe that it was my wife sitting across the table from me, devouring her breakfast, being completely at ease with the situation after her games with Stephanie. And after licking the hand of a woman we barely knew clean of my cum.



“It is a bit much for me, I have to admit. I really can’t believe all this is ok with you?” I looked at her questioningly.



“I know, honey. If you had told me, that I would behave this way ever in my life, I would have ridiculed you for years to come about it. But it is what it is. I love it. Right now I don’t want anything else, than to go on with it, be a slut to strangers, let them use me, whatever…” Her voice trailed off, before she caught herself again. “You know… it’s an opportunity that never presents itself in most people’s lives, and we will definitely never get it again, once we’re back home, working our asses off. To be able to let go completely, to let someone else take charge, and feel safe while doing it. I believe them, when they say that it’s discreet, that nothing will ever leave this house or at least this remote village. And I am perfectly sure that they know every trick in the book to make it worth our while. Do you disagree?” Her eyes searched my face.



“No, I don’t. They obviously are very sensuous and quite adept.” I shivered at the memory of Claudia’s hand on my cock, milking me so effortlessly, never giving me the slightest opportunity to get out of it or to get off early.



“I love you, and I will go on loving you after this. What we have is far more than sex. And I DO like our sex.” She giggled. “But you’ll have to admit that the best sex we had happened during our first years together and only again after we entered this haunted manor and don’t tell me it wasn’t the same for you.”



“I wouldn’t even try to,” I admitted. The hungry look that started to appear on Susan’s face was already coaxing my cock back to life again. She was still naked, still wearing the collar and leash.



“And you like it when I behave like a slave, a slut, letting you fuck my mouth, never even trying to pull away while I shake and retch on your cock down my throat.” Her voice got huskier and huskier.



“Mhhhhmm…” My cock was hard again.



“And I love it. Love to be taken, to be used, to be humiliated. Don’t be cross now, but they can teach you a lot about that. It took Stephanie five minutes, ten sentences, and a bit of tit flashing, to have me in a state of mind I never thought I could enter. I begged like a dog, literally, and I felt like it.” She dropped her head under the table, peeked, giggled, and came up again, a huge smile plastered on her face. “Perhaps it has to do with being so straightforward, so determined to reach goals, my whole life. Now here is the opportunity to do just the opposite, eighteen short more days to relish being without any responsibility, and I intend to use this time. Don’t waste that. Enjoy.”



She slid her body down to the floor and had her hands on my hard-on before I could react. She pushed against me, until I had slid my chair back enough for her to slip her head between me and the table. Her eyes caught mine while she just held my cock in her hands.



“I’m swept away by this, so whatever dirty fantasy you choose to act out, no matter what, I’m in no position to judge you. Nothing that could spoil our relationship. Just think about it! Whatever you want. Just this one time in your life.” She put the lightest of sweet kisses on the crown of my head.



I was sold.



—–



We took a drive with our car and went on a long walk on some beach. Afterwards we had lunch in a pub some miles down the coast because we were afraid that we would fuck ourselves senseless, if we stayed in our room. And miss the evening fun. We talked a lot about other things, but my mind kept going back to the one big question on my mind, since I had decided to just let go. What the hell did I want to do once I entered Stephanie’s room tonight?



Susan had decided about her role already. Even on the walk, underneath her clothes she still wore the collar and leash. The handle that Stephanie’s hand had held was firmly stuffed inside her panties, flat against her cunt.



—–



Back in our room, Susan started preparing herself.



“What’s to prepare, I thought it would be my show tonight.” I joked.



“Yeah?” she called from the bathroom. “And what happened while I was out of the room this morning? We will never know who will be doing what and when with us, from now on. That’s part of the fun, isn’t it?”



Shit. I really didn’t want to think about that right now. What would happen once I had closed the door behind me? Regardless of what I was about to do with that young wench. I still hadn’t decided about that and the thought of Susan being used while I was away didn’t help me doing so.



I entered the bathroom, surprised to see her sitting on the edge of the tub, slicing away at her rich pubic hair with my shaver.



“What the hell are you doing? I love that big bush! And I thought you did, too.”



“I still do, but this is not for me to decide any longer.” She was nearly done, searching for the last stray hairs, going for the stubble with a vengeance.

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