Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: anon34f5@nyx.cs.du.edu (Name withheld by request)
Subject: Wife
Date: 2 Jun 1995 21:20:39 GMT

				 Wife
			       Part One

	Things have gotten a little out of hand. I suppose my mistake
was agreeing to the wager in the first place. On the other hand, if I
had won... Oh, well, my turn will come.

	It all started with a playful game of scrabble. My wife Linda
and I (my name's Peter) have been happily married for 8 years, and are
in our mid 30's. We live what most would call a middle class life (I
hate the word yuppie; sounds too much like guppy), although both of us
went through a wild time during the 70's.

	Linda is a fine looking brunette, 5'3", with a slim build and
pert, conical breasts. She has that innocent, child-like face that
turns men on like crazy. Although she's not prudish, she is demure and
shy around strangers. Our sex life has been great over the past years,
and we've tried the usual things like fucking in strange places, light
b&d, renting porno videos, etc. Lately, though, things have simmered
down to a slow burn, rather than the raging flames of newlyweds.

	On the night in question, I was feeling a bit randy and, after
watching Dan Rather blather on about Haiti or some such fucking place,
I suggested a game of scrabble. As Linda returned with the game and
began to arrange it on the living room floor, I had a sudden idea.

	"Let's play for stakes," I said, sitting down on the floor
across from her.

	"What do you mean?" she asked.

	I shrugged. "Let's say the winner gets to choose a fantasy and
the loser has to act it out."

	Linda looked up at me slyly. "I see. And I don't suppose
you've got anything particular in mind, do you?"

	"Actually, I've got quite a few ideas... ," I said, looking up
coyly at the ceiling. "Remember, though, it could be anything at all,
and you'd have to go along with it. You know I love you, babe, and
you'd have to trust me. There is some REALLY outrageous stuff floating
around in my perverted brain!"

	"Well, first of all, you haven't won YET, Mr. Perverted Brain.
And second of all, you're on. Just remember your words and our
agreement after the game is over. You have a very convenient memory
sometimes, you know."

	I grabbed us each a glass of Chardonnay, and we started the
game. An hour later, with the outcome of the game still up in the air,
my sexy little wife slowly spelled out the word "xiphosuran."

	"Jesus Christ!" I said, scratching my head. "What the fuck is
that shit?" The best I'd done was "fruitcake."

	Linda looked at me with her deep green eyes. Her tongue darted
out and slowly licked the rim of her wine glass. I'll be damned, but I
couldn't read her! If I didn't challenge it, she'd win.

	"Okay, I'm getting the Webster's out on this one."

	I grabbed the dictionary and flipped to the x's.

	"... any of an order (Xiphosura) of arthropods comprising the
king crabs and extinct related forms... "

	"You're a ringer, you know that? How in the hell... ?"

	Linda crawled behind me and wrapped her legs around my waist.
Her cool hands went around me under my sweatshirt and gently tweaked
my nipples. Her breath was warm as she whispered in my ear.

	"I memorized about 50 of them since the last time we played
and you won."

	"Not only beautiful, smart and sexy, but competitive as hell!"
I said. "Okay, you won. So what does this mean in practical terms?
What's it going to be?"

	I could feel her shrugging behind me, her nipples gently
brushing my back. I was getting an anticipatory hard-on even as I felt
a brief twinge of apprehension. (Quite prescient, as it turns out)

	Linda stood up and removed the t-shirt she uses as a nightie.
Wearing only her skimpy white cotton panties, she pushed the game away
and knelt down in front of me. Taking my hands, she gently placed them
on her soft breasts. The cool air had already made her nipples erect
and they pressed into the center of my palms. She cupped both her
hands around my face and looked me in the eyes.

	"I know exactly what I want. But I want to make very sure we
are absolutely clear about things. First, YOU are going to have to
trust ME, and know that I love you very much and will always love you
and be your wife. This is going to be an enactment of a fantasy,
nothing more. Without that foundation of trust and love, I would not
attempt anything remotely resembling what I have in mind. Do you
understand this?"

	I swallowed slowly and nodded. My erection was gone. There was
a buzzing in my ears and my heart raced.

	"Second, there will be no going back once it begins. When it
is finished, you may have a turn, and I fully intend to do ANYTHING
you want. I expect and believe that I will have the same commitment
from you for my fantasy. Do you agree?"

	Once again I nodded. "And when will I learn exactly what this
fantasy is?"

	Linda smiled wickedly. "In good time. You'll be told when you
have a need to know. Don't worry. You're going to be very much a part
of it. In fact, I think it's going to turn you on like you've never
been turned on before. I know it will me. Just remember that you
wanted the outrageous. Some of the most outrageously erotic things are
psychological, though." She laughed. "Not to worry. It'll be plenty
raunchy."

	We fucked like rabbits that night. You know, one of those
sessions when there's no more cum in your balls, but your dick just
keeps getting hard again and again. When 3 a.m. hit, Linda's cunt was
so sore, she gently suggested sleep, and I gave in. Tired and fucked
out as I was, I couldn't sleep. My whole perspective on life had
changed. It's hard to describe the feeling, but the closest I can come
is a mixture of excitement you can almost taste, tinged with a strange
anxiety and foreboding.

	I looked at the clock. Tuesday morning, 4 a.m. I had to get up
at 7 to make it to work. I put my hand on Linda's soft black hair and
gently stroked it. She slept like a babe in arms.

	Okay, I thought. I'm ready for whatever comes.

				* * *

	The rest of the week went by quickly enough. By Friday, I had
almost forgotten about the whole thing. Linda and I had planned to go
out to dinner to a small Italian place and hit a movie afterward. I
got home, as usual, about 6:30 p.m. and noticed that Linda's monkey-
shit brown Honda was not in the garage. She was usually home from work
by 4:30.

	Stepping into the foyer, I saw an envelope with my name on it
taped to the banister. I quickly tore it open and began to read:

			   My Fantasy

	Hi, sweetheart! Sorry I had to break our date
	tonight. The fact is, I'm going out with someone
	else. And yes, it's a man. Read this to the end
	before you have a heart attack. Oh, and by the
	way, this is only the first of a multi-part
	fantasy. Things are going to heat up, darling.
	(Just you remember our agreement)

	I. There's some frozen lasagna in the freezer
	you can heat in the microwave, and a fresh
	Caesar salad I made up in the fridge. Help
	yourself and be sure to rinse the dishes off
	before you put them in the dishwasher. You are
	not to go out tonight, period. Understood?

	II. I will not tell you his name. I met him
	through work a few months ago, and only
	initiated this AFTER your appropriate loss at
	scrabble. He's about 6'2", brown hair, grey
	eyes, very "jock" looking, if you know what I
	mean. He's fairly bright, but not as smart as
	you <grin>. He knows I'm married, but thinks
	you're 'away'.

	III. I don't know when I'll be home. It could be
	early, or it could be quite late, depending on
	how things go...

	IV. Before you go to bed (and I want you in bed
	early, and rested, for when I get home... ) I
	want you to imagine, in great detail, all of the
	following:

	I want you to imagine your pretty wife, dressed
	in my white silk blouse with the high collar and
	no bra, the black skirt that hugs my ass the way
	you like and the red "thong" panties you bought
	me for our anniversary underneath, and the black
	pumps that drive you crazy, sitting in a cozy
	restaurant and flirting with a handsome stud
	across from me.

	I want you to imagine us at a nightclub
	afterwards, dancing. (No, I won't tell you
	where we're going). Imagine all the things that
	can happen between two horny people when the
	lights are low and the beat of the music is deep
	and sexy.

	I want you to imagine the effects of the drinks,
	and the slow dancing, and the sensual music.
	Imagine where his hands will go, and the things
	I might whisper in his ear.

	Most of all, I want you to imagine us ending up
	at HIS place (but only, of course, after a
	respectable, but ineffective, attempt to say
	no). Imagine all the things that might follow.
	Imagine your petite wife kneeling on his living
	room floor and slowly, almost reverently,
	sucking his huge cock into her mouth. Imagine
	him gently pulling a strand of hair from her
	forehead as she gazes up unblinkingly into his
	eyes and mouths the tip of his cock. Imagine her
	on the floor on her back, naked except for her
	pumps, with her ankles on both sides of this
	strange man's neck, his cock pumping like a
	piston into the cute little bottom you've fucked
	so often. Imagine her on all fours like a dog,
	mounted. Imagine the excitement of the man, the
	thrill of taking a woman who belongs to another
	man. The knowledge that, for that brief time, HE
	owns her. He owns her tits, her mouth, her cunt
	and her ass. She belongs to him, now, however
	briefly.

	Finally, imagine the woman coming home to the
	husband. Imagine her crawling into bed having
	been ravaged and fucked for hours, with another
	man's sperm still dripping from her cunt like
	honey, and telling her loving husband every
	detail. Imagine the voyeuristic pleasure, a
	pleasure made all the more intense by the delay
	of not knowing what has happened. And imagine
	the husband fucking his loving, pretty little
	wife like a bull...

	V. I expect you to imagine these things, or
	similar things, but you will not masturbate. Is
	that clear? I will take care of things when I
	get home, if you know what I mean.

	Remember, tonight is only the beginning of quite
	a little adventure I have in store for you. Be
	good. There's lot's more fun to come.

				Your Naughty Wife,
				Linda


	I tossed the letter on the floor and ran up the stairs to the
bathroom off our master bedroom. I pulled open the second drawer of
Linda's vanity. Sure enough, her diaphragm and the tube of spermicide
were gone.

	I quickly showered and changed clothes. Popping the lasagna
into the microwave, I sat down at the dining room table and tried to
compose myself. I had a raging hard-on. My heart raced like an engine
and my palms were cold and sweaty. I couldn't believe I was so horny.
I hadn't felt this kind of excitement since I was 16 years old and
sitting in the back of my '67 Nova with Susan Pelizzero's left nipple
firmly in my mouth.

	I wanted to analyze all the conflicting emotions, but knew now
was not the time.

	God, a thousand images were racing through my mind. I could
already see Linda, sweet and sexy Linda, my Linda, my wife, pressed up
close to some strange man. What would they be saying and thinking?
What were they doing now?

	I grinned. My wife sure knew how to push my buttons. The
microwave timer suddenly went off. I settled down to supper and to one
of the longest, most anticipatory waits of my life. I waited for my
wife to get fucked and come home.

			       Part Two

	10:00 p.m. and waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting... They were
probably done with dinner by now and maybe even out on the dance
floor. Every 10 or 15 minutes I found myself looking at my watch and
conjuring up new images, new snippets of conversation... Were they
talking about me? What exactly was Linda telling him about our
relationship, our marriage? Whatever the details, I just knew it
centered on sex.

	I'd successfully fought off the urge to masturbate. Right now,
though, I decided to change my underwear. After repeated tumescence,
they were sticky with pre-cum.

	God, this was the weirdest conglomeration of competing
emotions I'd ever felt. One moment I felt like jumping in my car and
hitting the nightspots to look for them. I had no idea what I'd do if
I found them, however. Probably just watch them discreetly from a
distance. Every once in a while a wave of anger and jealousy would
roll over me, though, and I'd fantasize about marching up and
confronting them. Those feelings would slowly melt away and be
replaced by a very profound lust. One side put an edge on the other
and made each emotion sharper and more defined; more REAL than
feelings I'd had in a long time.

	In the back of my brain, a part of my mind started to wonder,
just wonder mind you, about the source and intensity of the turn-on.
In our bondage games, Linda was always the submissive. Submission had
never been a part of my erotic dreams or fantasies. Was it possible
that, in allowing this to happen, I was indirectly submitting to both
Linda and her date? Or even further, that I was somehow submitting
directly to HIM, with her as the intermediary or offering if you will?
Were there, god forbid, homosexual undertones here? You know, like
subconsciously making love to him through my wife? Okay, I'll admit,
since I'm being perfectly frank here, that on a couple occasions I'd
fantasized about sucking cock. (I'm STRAIGHT, all right!?) I hadn't
gone very far with that particular masturbatory thread, though, and it
had been quite a few years ago. I'm not going to posture and spout any
of that homophobic shit. I despise it. But, on the other hand, I've
never gotten an erection looking at naked men. Just the opposite. It's
the quickest way I know to get rid of one.

	10:05. Well, time's just flying by and I've come up with a
ream of insights into this whole thing. Jesus, sometimes my lack of
self-awareness scares even me. I grabbed the latest copy of Time
magazine and lay down on the couch in my den and tried to read, every
once in a while rubbing my throbbing, painfully hard cock with the
heel of my palm. I looked over at the clock on my desk.

	10:10. Next to the clock was a picture of Linda taken a few
years ago by a photographer friend. An "artsy" black and white of just
her face and her long black hair cascading over her shoulder.
Whenever I look at Linda for a long time and have to describe her, the
best I can come up with is a "fawn". Everyone we meet say she reminds
them of Audrey Hepburn (no, it's before my time, but I HAVE seen her
movies). I know I'm a pretty lucky guy to be married to her. In my
mind's eye, the picture transformed from a demure smile to one of
lust. Open mouth, head thrown back, sweat dripping, eyes unfocused...

	I woke with a start and immediately checked out my new friend,
the clock. 2:30 a.m. I stumbled up, made sure the porch and entrance
light were on, then went upstairs. Taking my clothes off, I climbed
into bed and collapsed. Pornographic visions danced in my brain.

	I heard a noise and jerked up on my elbow. I was fully awake
in an instant. Pretty shallow sleep, I guess. Footsteps coming up the
stairway. I glanced at the alarm clock. 4:30 a.m. I lay back down,
feigning sleep, but with a good enough angle to see out of the corner
of my eye.

	Linda came around the corner and stopped at the bathroom
entrance. She looked my way for a brief moment. Her hair was up (the
way she wears it when she "can't do anything with it"). She went in
the bathroom and closed the door. The water ran for what seemed like
an eternity. The door opened and I closed my eyes. I felt the bed move
as she sat next to me and her hand rested on my shoulder.

	"Peter?"

	I opened my eyes and looked up at her.

	"Hi," I managed. "What time is it?"

	"Late, darling." She stroked my forehead and climbed in next
to me. She was still fully clothed. Neither Linda nor I smoked, but I
could smell the odor of stale cigarettes in her hair. I wondered what
"his" brand was.

	Suddenly, her hand went down under the covers and grabbed my
iron-hard cock. The coolness of her hand was electrifying.

	"Are you mad at me, darling?" she asked quietly.

	"Hell no," I said with a grin. "But I will be if you don't
spit out every detail of what happened." Reassured, she snuggled in
closer and I pulled the blanket over both of us. Suddenly, while
rhythmically pumping my cock, she leaned over and kissed me full on
the mouth. I returned it with passion. It was all wet and tongue and
she tasted of sex and wine.

	"You're missing an ear-ring," I said when she pulled back.

	"Oh, shit!" she said grabbing at her naked earlobe.

	"So?" I said, raising an eyebrow.

	She looked at me with a gleam in her eye.

	"Well, I'm afraid I've been a naughty girl tonight."

	I ran my hand down her back and over her thighs and buttocks.
No underwear.

	"They got a little messy, so I had to get rid of them," she
grimaced.

	As she stroked my erection, the following story emerged:

				* * *

	Linda had met him at the restaurant for cocktails and a light
supper. They'd talked mostly about work at first, but the conversation
had inevitably led to his ex-wife and to me. She'd flirted
relentlessly with him, firing off a long series of innuendos and
suggestions. He'd been fast on the uptake and quickly responded in
kind. She noticed that his eyes kept wandering to her nipples that
were nicely outlined by her silk blouse.

	After dinner, they'd driven in separate cars to a small club
on the west side. They started dancing, and he'd been a gentleman at
first, but after Linda had started rubbing the upper part of her hip
against his groin, things got a bit more raunchy.

	"God, that feels pretty nice," she'd whispered in his ear
after letting her hand drop down between them and into his crotch.
The rubbing and grinding had gotten a little too hot, and they'd gone
back to the table.

	At one point, near closing time, and Linda herself can hardly
believe she did this, she had reached under the table and under her
skirt. Pulling her panties aside, she'd pushed her middle finger deep
into her soaking cunt. Bringing it out, she'd put it to his lips and
let him lick it clean, all the while keeping their eyes locked.

	They left his car in the parking lot and took hers to his
apartment. She had asked him to drive and as they made their way to
his place, had reached over, unzipped his pants and pulled his cock
out. Leaning over, she had swirled her tongue around the tip to
savored the taste of his pre-cum. "Do you suck your husband's cock
like this?" he had asked distractedly, trying to concentrate on the
road. Her mouth full, my wife didn't answer.

	It was at this point that I exploded all over Linda's hand and
my belly. My cock now well lubricated with gobs of sticky cum, she
continued to stroke it slowly. As she went on with the story, I was
very quickly hard again.

	Once inside his apartment, his whole personality had changed.
The "gentleman" was gone. He had forced her onto her knees, unzipped
his pants and, looming over her, pulled his erect penis out. She
reached up to take it in her slender hands, but he had pushed them
away.

	"Just suck it. Use your mouth. You don't need your hands."

	She had tried the best she could, but although he was about my
length, he had been much thicker around. She had worked her mouth over
the bulging crown and gotten it to the back of her throat and had
started working her tongue and lips when, suddenly, he had tensed and
actually started coming!

	She hadn't expected it so soon, had gagged, and a lot of it
had dribbled from the corner of her stretched lips. (I had noticed
some suspicious stains down the front of her blouse). She had done her
best to swallow what she could manage. It had been slightly sweet with
a hint, she could have sworn, of almonds, rather than the "salt-
water" taste of mine.

	"Your husband has a very nice little cocksucker for a wife. I
hope he appreciates you," he had said, while wiping the few dribbles
of cum from his cock that Linda had missed.

	They had sat on the couch and talked for a few minutes, and he
was soon very hard indeed again. He had taken his pants and shorts
off. He stood my wife up in front of his couch and made her bend over
at the waist with her arms on the back and her feet spread as wide as
she could manage. He had hiked her dress up over her waist and pulled
her panties off. His big cock had entered her from behind with little
resistance.

	She described the fuck as brutal and hard. (While the words
said one thing, the dreamy inflection of her voice told her real
experience of it). He had reached around with one hand and forced his
three middle fingers into her mouth, holding her tongue and lower jaw
between the fingers and his thumb. While it hadn't been painful, Linda
described it as a very dominant and sexy action. The other hand had
been busily changing between working her clit and squeezing her small
breasts.

	As he fucked deep into my wife, and while holding her violated
mouth open, he had whispered in her ear.

	"This is for your husband. And this, pretty little cunt, is
for you," he whispered as he banged even harder into her hole.

	The fuck had been long and hard. She had come four or five
times, she couldn't remember, and her legs were almost giving out when
he finally came and sprayed her cunt with semen.

	They didn't talk much after that. He'd offered to let her
spend the night, but she had declined. After cleaning up as best she
could, she had driven straight home.

				* * *

	I reached over and pulled her black skirt up. She scooted
underneath me and spread her legs wide. Even in the semi-light of our
bedroom, I could see that the lips of her pussy were red and swollen.

	"It's okay, darling. It's a little sensitive down there, but
if you take it easy on me at first, it won't be a problem," she said.

	She was probably the "loosest" and wettest I'd ever
experienced in 8 years of marriage, and even though I knew my cock was
sliding in my wife's juices mixed with a stranger's spunk, I didn't
care a bit. As I pumped her slowly and lovingly, our eyes locked.

	Before I came again, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I
remembered that this was only the first "part" of her fantasy and,
supposedly, the tamest part.

	God help me.

			      Part Three

	For several weeks, our life went on pretty much as normal.
Linda had resisted my attempts to have HIM identified. My feelings had
been a little hurt since I felt that her reticence implied that I
somehow could not be trusted to let the incident drop. I think I could
have gotten her to tell me if I had been more persistent, but I had
suddenly realized that his anonymity contributed to the eroticism of
the fantasy for me, and I stopped pushing the issue.

	As for Linda, it took a few days for me to fully convince her
that not only was everything all right between us, but that I had
immensely enjoyed the game. She had offered to stop now rather than
risk any problems between us, but I had reassured her that it had been
a tremendous turn-on for me. Our mutual understanding was that there
had been no loving at all, only sex, between them. I told her that I
was ready for "part two." Grinning, she had squeezed my buttocks,
winked, and said, "You think so, huh?" Jeez!

	On a Thursday night, about three weeks after the "fling," as
we euphemistically referred to it, Linda was washing some pots and
pans while I dried.

	I wrapped my arms around her from behind, pressed her up
against the sink, and gently began to move my hips and groin against
her bottom. As ever, she pushed her buttocks back against me and
followed my rolling, grinding motion (I believe that kitchens were
created by god for this particular kind of play. The preparation of
food, etc., is only a secondary function).

	"I need you to stop at the store on your way home from work
tomorrow," she said.

	"Sure. What do we need?" My cock was rigid and rubbing firmly
in the crack of her ass. I had stopped moving, but she had continued
the motion, rising on her toes and then slowly settling down. I cupped
her breasts from the outside of her t-shirt.

	"A bag of cotton balls, some masking tape and a few other odds
and ends," she said matter-of-factly.

	My ears suddenly pricked up. It was not lost on me that the
"fling" had happened on a Friday. Three weeks ago to the day, in fact.
But cotton balls and masking tape? Bondage... ? We already had a small
stash of "restraining" toys. Hmmm. Interesting.

	I turned her around and held her by her shoulders.

	"This wouldn't have anything to do with a little surprise you
might have in store for me tomorrow, would it?" I asked.

	"Darling, if I told you the truth, you wouldn't get a good
night's sleep. You're like a child on Christmas Eve."

	She was right. I didn't.

				* * *

	I didn't accomplish a damn thing at work on Friday. I had
butterflies in my stomach for most of the day. I left a little early
(boss' prerogative), and made it home by 6:15 after stopping for the
"items" needed.

	Linda's car was in the driveway. So she was home this time.
Opening the front door, I stepped in and looked around. The house was
immaculate. Since Linda and I were both professionals and had little
time for housework, we employed a cleaning service during the week.
But when she did have the time, Linda was meticulous in her work.
This was her doing. There was a gorgeous flower arrangement on the
living room mantle and a roaring fire below.

	Linda stepped around the corner and smiled.

	She took my breath away. She wore a full length powder-blue
evening dress that was dangerously low-cut, her best pearl necklace,
heels and a pretty white bow in her hair. She ran and hugged me like
we hadn't seen each other in a month. We kissed like newlyweds.

	"Hi, sexy!" she said with a grin.

	"Darling, I'm absolutely stunned. You've outdone yourself.

	"Well, it did take a little work. I'll take that bag.
Everything's here?"

	"Everything you ordered."

	"Dinner will be ready by the time you've finish showering.
Don't dress up when you're done. Wear your normal slobbish attire."

	I grinned. "As opposed to YOUR normal, slobbish attire?" I
asked, taking another look at my gorgeous wife.

	"Just do as you're told tonight, Peter. Be a good boy."

	She hugged me again, and whispered "I love you" in my ear.

	"I love you, too," I said, and went up to shower.

	I quickly showered, put on a pair of corduroy slacks, a
sweater and my loafers. We dined on poached salmon with dill sauce
accompanied by an extra-fine German white. Dessert was a simple bowl
of chilled, fresh raspberries in cream. I poured myself a brandy, and
we moved to the living room.

	I settled on the couch and began to sip the 50 year old
liqueur. Linda sat on the floor between my feet with her legs curled
up under her.

	"Well," I said. "I'm coming to appreciate your fantasies more
each time."

	"I'm glad, sweetheart. There's a bit more to come, though.
You may want to withhold judgment until the end of the night."

	The brandy's golden burn in my throat and stomach had begun to
relax every muscle in my body. I felt ready for anything.

	"We need to talk, dear," she said suddenly. Uh-oh.

	"You do remember our understanding and agreement, don't you?
This is my fantasy, and I expect you to cooperate in every way."

	She moved up to her knees to look into my eyes.

	"Whatever happens, remember that I love you, and ONLY you,"
she said slowly, those emerald green eyes boring into my soul.
"Remember to relax, to let things play out. Most of all, you must do
as you're told. Do you understand and agree?"

	Here come the butterflies. "Yes, babe. This is your night.
Let's be decadent and naughty," I said, holding her hands in mine.

	She looked searchingly into my eyes for a long time. I think
she found the trust that was there and that she was looking for,
because she smiled, rose and kissed me on the forehead.

	"Don't move. I'll be right back," she said lightly.

	She returned a moment later with a blindfold, the cotton, and
the tape.

	"You're not going to be able to see anything that happens
tonight. I know how visually stimulated you are. I'm sorry, but I'm
hoping that, if things work out like I think they will, you won't miss
your eye-sight." She placed the cotton gently over my eyes, then the
blindfold. The cotton cut off that little area just under my eyes
along the bridge of my nose that I had always been able to peek
through before. The tape held the blindfold and cotton firmly in
place.

	"Your brandy snifter is full. Relax and enjoy it. Let me know
if you need a visit to the restroom, and I'll help you." She
snickered. "Things should begin in about 10 minutes, as soon as our
guests arrive."

	"Guests? Did you say guests? I'm sure I distinctly heard you
say 'guests'."

	"That's right. Guests. You know, like in visitors. Now relax.
Gee, I wonder what's going to happen?"

	I grinned. "You are the naughtiest, most conniving little
tease!"

	The "guests" must have been early, because the doorbell rang.
Linda leaned down and whispered, "Enjoy, babe. Remember that I'm still
your wife tomorrow and after."

	I heard her move to the door and open it. Muffled voices.
Footsteps. Two pair? Three? Movement around me. Other noises. Then
quiet. A cough. A male cough. Thank God for the brandy! I felt
amazingly comfortable considering I was sitting blindfolded in front
of total stranger(s) in my own home.

	"Good evening, Peter. It's a pleasure to meet you, although
these are somewhat interesting circumstances. My name is William."

	His voice was very deep. It had that self-assured quality I
associate with my peers who have, and are used to wielding, power.

	"I've had the pleasure of meeting your wife once before, but I
can assure you it was a purely friendly meeting. In fact, it was to
arrange this little get together. By the way, there are four people in
this room. You, your wife, myself and my wife. My wife's name is
Breigha. While it makes little difference what my profession is, I can
tell you that my wife is a very good photographer, and that she has
all of her equipment here tonight."

	"The details of how and why your wife contacted us are also of
little relevance. I assume Linda will answer all your questions at a
later time."

	"So. Where to begin? I am here at your wife's bequest. It
appears that we are going to get somewhat friendly and intimate over
the next few hours. I understand that you will cooperate and do as
you're told. I appreciate that and will expect it from you and from
Linda. Our first ground rule is that no-one, other than myself, will
speak in this room unless spoken to first. Do we have agreement?" I
nodded. I heard Linda say "yes."

	"Good. Your wife has determined the general outline of what
will happen tonight. I have a very deep appreciation for her
imagination, as well as for her good looks and intelligence. You're a
lucky man, Peter. What she has not determined, however, are the many
details that, as I'm sure you realize, being the professional you are,
make all the difference. In that respect, she will be as much in the
dark, so to speak, as you." Ha. Funny.

	"Good. The "general outline" is as follows. First, everything
that takes place will be photographed by my wife in great detail for
your and Linda's viewing pleasure down the years, although I would
suggest keeping it out of the family album." The guy was a riot.

	"That is the extent of my wife's participation. Second, I am
going to make love to your wife, Peter. It will be an honor and a
pleasure, I assure you. Your job, tonight, is to assist me. Not to
participate, per se, but to make Linda more "available," more "easily
accessible," shall we say. Things will become clearer, I promise. I
must tell you that although I consider myself bisexual, there will be
no direct sexual activity, as such, between you and I. At least hardly
any."

	Right. THAT statement took the ambiguous prize.

	"Thirdly, your wife has requested that I use graphic and
explicit language. She is, as many people are, aroused by it. But you
know that. I only mention it so that you aren't shocked."

	"Finally, Linda here has pretty much given me free reign as
far as the kinds of pleasantries we will indulge in. 'Anything goes',
I believe were your words, yes?"

	"Yes," I heard Linda say. Her voice had a quiver in it.

	"I'm glad. I think I'm going to enjoy this as much as you and
Peter. We all understand, then, that this is purely a little sexual
adventure for everyone. That afterward, my wife and I return to our
world, and both of you to yours. I do not expect either of you to ever
contact us again. Although that may be a shame, it's necessary. On a
final note before we begin, I have to tell you that I have rarely met
a woman more in love with her husband than Linda is with you. Did you
know that, Peter? How much she loves you?"

	I nodded, a little embarrassed and not knowing if anyone was
even looking at me.

	"All right. Breigha, darling, you may begin setting up.
Linda, would you be so kind as to fetch me a glass of scotch? Just a
little ice, please. Thank you. Are you comfortable, Peter?"

	"I'm okay," I mumbled. I could feel the heat from the
fireplace as various sounds I interpreted as "camera setting up"
noises came from the other side of the living room. I had heard Linda
pick up my empty snifter beside me and, as she passed by, she had put
her hand on mine for the briefest of moments. The alcohol put me in a
mellow haze, made time slow down, and made the acceptance of what was
about to happen much easier than if I had not been drinking.

	Well, I thought, drop your socks and grab your... Here we go
on another lovely little roller-coaster ride.

			      Part Four

	I heard Linda's footsteps as she returned with William's
Scotch. I was seated on the couch, apparently alone. From the sound of
his voice, I knew William and his wife were sitting to the left of the
fireplace in our loveseat. Linda's footsteps crossed back in front of
me and stopped. Her hand took my wrist and gently placed a full
snifter in my hand. I heard her move to my right and seat herself in a
high-back chair facing the center of the room. The couch I sat on was
thus in the center, facing the fireplace. The only sound for a minute
or two was the crackling the burning logs. The blindfold, at least so
far, was reasonably comfortable.

	"I often think," William suddenly began, "that we are too much
the creatures of our eyes; our other senses are just handmaidens to
vision and are given the rump-end by our brain of the world's myriad
textures and infinite contours. I dare say many people would think
nothing of taking their lives rather than facing the world without
sight. They rely on it like they rely on the sun rising every day.
They do not appreciate the more fecund "reality" of hearing, touch,
taste and smell which are more in tune with the night than the day."

	"Let us take your beautiful wife, Linda, for an example.
Linda, please stand in front of the fireplace for us. Yes, thank you.
Now, Breigha and I see her quite clearly. You, of course, cannot. Let
me describe what I see: I see a woman surrounded by a halo of shifting
yellow, orange and blue light from the fire. I see a shiny stream of
black hair on falling on her shoulders and outlining a face of beauty.
High cheekbones, rosy cheeks, sparkling healthy eyes, clear, open and
wide, looking at you, Peter. I see a pert nose, and full lips that are
moist. From her thin neck, her small shoulders widen. She holds them
back in a posture of self-assurance. This is a woman not to be taken
lightly, Peter, as you are surely aware."

	"I see her chest rising and falling slowly, small breasts
straining against the soft fabric of her dress. The breasts, one might
almost think, of a young girl. Even from this distance, and in this
light, one can make out the little points of her nipples, stiffened
and alive."

	I shifted uncomfortably. I was now beginning to get quite
turned on.

	"While it could be the fact that it is ever so slightly cool
in this room, and the fire is to her back accentuating the difference
in temperature, I would attribute your wife's erect nipples to arousal
and to the fact that she knows that I am going to fuck her. No, please
Linda, leave your arms at your sides. That's better. Now, Peter,
please tell me. Can you see what I have described? Can you see your
wife displayed before the three of us in your mind's eye?"

	I could. I could see her as if the blindfold were gone. As if
my eyes were fully open and unblinking. "Yes," I said. "Your point?"

	"Simply that perception of the world can be clear, convincing
and real whether it comes to us through the eyes, the ears, or some
other way. A case in point: a man hears his wife describe her
infidelity in graphic detail. She describes an illicit sexual
encounter she entered into for the purpose of his and her sexual
arousal. Do you honestly believe that had he been there and actually
watched, the intensity of the perception of the infidelity would have
been greater than what his own mind and imagination actually created
out of a few simple words? Yes, Linda told me of your little
adventure. I was very impressed. Well?"

	"No, not necessarily. On the other hand, I'm aroused by the
sight of my wife, by the sight of other beautiful women, by the sight
of graphic sexual images and so on," I said. "Perhaps we put too much
stock in our eyes, but they're still a fundamental part of who we
are."

	"Yes. Yes, exactly! A fundamental PART of who we are. But
still only a part of our life and of our sexuality. Well, I'm being
pedantic and boring here. I believe in teaching by example and by
experience. It tends to stick to the ribs, so to speak, better than a
lecture," he said. Suddenly, in a very firm voice, "Linda, come over
here to me."

	I heard the rustle of her dress as she moved to him.

	"Kneel down between my legs. That's good."

	There was silence for nearly a minute, maybe longer (my sense
of time had taken a leave of absence). I could hear the nearly
inaudible sounds of a camera shutter.

	"Ah, very nice. Now I want you to go over to Peter and kiss
him exactly as I just kissed you."

	I heard her move to me and kneel between my legs. Her hands
moved to the tops of my thighs and she leaned close to my face. Her
lips touched mine gently. They were wet and warm. Slowly, insistently,
her tongue entered my mouth, swirled softly between my lips and teeth,
then went deep into the center. It mingled with my tongue, entwined,
penetrated, retreated, penetrated again. I followed it back out into
her mouth and tasted its sweetness. I felt her lift her right hand,
and one of her fingers gently touched the corner between our pressed
lips, then smoothly entered into the warm double cavity formed by our
locked mouths. It probed my mouth, the space between my cheek and
teeth, then retreated into hers with both our tongues, almost like a
third small tongue. The taste of her finger was slightly salty, and I
wondered what it felt like to probe our mouths and tongues, even as
the kiss went on. It was strange and exciting to have this unfamiliar
third thing become a part of our kiss. I was perfectly aware that
William had just kissed Linda in exactly this same way. Slowly, she
pulled away. I wanted more and I was hard as a rock.

	"Come back to me now, Linda," William said. "Take off your
dress. Leave your panties, the necklace and the heels on."

	I could "see" every movement as my wife stripped before this
man. There was a final rustle as the dress was discarded.

	"You are very beautiful, Linda. Any man in his right mind
would love to know you better, would love to do what I am going to do
tonight. Turn around, slowly. Yes, very nice. Now tell me something.
Do you love your husband?"

	"Yes, with all my heart."

	"Of course you do. How does it feel to stand in front of me
like this, with your husband sitting only feet away? We can both see
his erection from here. He is excited, knowing that you are exposed,
and that I am in control. How does all this make you feel? Are you
aroused, Linda?"

	"Yes."

	"Come here and kneel down. Now give me your hand. There,
gently, just run your nails up and down its length. Find the head with
the tips of your fingers; use your fingers and hand to try to imagine
what it will look like outside my pants. Is my cock larger than your
husband's?"

	"Yes."

	"Speak the entire sentence, Linda."

	Hesitatingly, "Your cock is larger than my husband's."

	"We men are so preoccupied with things like this, aren't we?
Of course that was rhetorical; you needn't answer."

	"Peter," he continued, "your wife is kneeling in front of me
in a skimpy pair of yellow panties and her heels, stroking my
erection. Even through my pants, I can feel how cool her palms and
fingers are." There was silence for a minute or two. Then, "I think
it's time we took it out, Linda. Here, let me help you."

	My hand wandered to my crotch, pressed hard against my aching
cock, then moved away. Okay, so I was beginning to get his point.

	"Yes, that's much better. Do you want to make love to me,
Linda, and do you want me to make love to you?"

	Silence.

	"Linda?"

	Finally, almost inaudibly, "yes."

	"Say the words. Words, you know, are a kind of action. A very
powerful kind of action."

	"I want to make love to you and I want you to make love to
me."

	"Don't stop stroking it. I want to taste you, Linda. Use your
left hand, put two fingers inside of you, and put them to my lips."

	I was starting to get so turned on, I was having a hard time
sitting still.

	"Delicious. Sweet. A honeysuckle cunt."

	"Breigha, sweetheart, I think it's time that we move to the
next level. Would you be so kind as to help Peter up and bring him
here? Don't stop what you're doing, Linda. With your left hand,
though, make an "O" with your thumb and forefinger around the base of
the tip. Good. Now as you stroke up its length with your right hand,
squeeze the tip with the ring you've formed in your left, then relax
it as your right hand returns to the base. Yes! That's good. I know
it's hard to get your fingers all the way around it, but you're doing
fine."

	I felt a soft hand touch my shoulder. I stood, and was guided
to the left where Linda knelt between William's legs. As my forward
motion was stopped, one hand suddenly dropped from my shoulder to my
crotch and firmly but gently squeezed my penis. After William's
graphic descriptions and with little tactile stimulation, the squeeze
was heavenly.

	"Breigha is naughty, sometimes. I see she wants to get more
involved tonight. We'll see, darling. Now, Peter, will you please
kneel behind your wife?"

	My hands were placed on Linda's warm, naked shoulders, and I
knelt down behind her.

	"Good. Now spread your knees and scoot up close to her, so
there's no space between your groin and her buttocks."

	I did so. Through my hands on her shoulders, I could feel a
rhythmic motion of Linda's arms. My knees brushed what I sensed to be
William's spread feet, and I jerked them closer and tightly to Linda.
Still sitting on my heels, my cock was pressed firmly against Linda's
backside through my trousers.

	"Are we all comfy? What a cozy little scene! Linda, you may
stop working my cock. Now lean back against your husband with your
head on his shoulder, raise your arms and place your hands on both
sides of Peter's head. That's it. Peter, Breigha and I would very much
like to see you caress your wife's breasts. Breigha, would you kneel
to the side of me and continue where Linda left off?"

	As Linda complied, the position we were in forced her to arch
the center of her back forward, presenting her breasts in a graphic
manner. I dropped my hands, reached around her, and cupped her warm
tits. Then, with the middle three fingers on each hand, I massaged
each breast in a circular fashion, moving from the sides to the
center, and around the erect nipples. I grasped each nipple between
thumb and forefinger and gently pulled them outward, then rolled them
between my fingers carefully, like soft grapes. Releasing them, I
opened my hands, placed them over her nipples so they just lightly
brushed the center of my palms, and made a circular motion, gently
rubbing the very tips. Linda was breathing deeply and irregularly.

	"Nipples were meant to be suckled. If you would be so kind as
to present them for me, Peter, I believe I will indulge myself."

	Once again I cupped her breasts from the sides, squeezing them
slightly so the nipples stood out, and waited. I sensed motion as he
leaned forward and felt warm breath near my hands. I felt his mouth
close over the tip of Linda's left breast. A low moan came from deep
in Linda's belly. Her hands were moving through my hair and over my
ears and face. The mouth moved to the right breast. Once again, I
could feel the gentle, rhythmic tug of his lips through her breast.

	The motion stopped and I sensed him lean back. I ran my
fingers again over her now wet nipples and pinched them gently. My
cock was so hard, I thought I would explode.

	"Taste is a little appreciated sense when it comes to the
erotic. Since I've already tasted your wife's sex, as well as her
nipples, I'd like you and Breigha to taste her now, Peter. Being a
gentleman, I know you'd insist on Breigha going first. Please use two
of your fingers and pass them on to my wife."

	I dropped my right hand down Linda's belly, then worked them
under the elastic band of her panties. Moving through her downy pubic
hair, I circled my forefinger and middle finger down, then up into my
wife's cunt. She was absolutely drenched. Linda's body shivered as I
withdrew my fingers, deliberately rubbing them against her clitoris.

	I raised my fingers from my wife's crotch, and a small hand
gently grasped my wrist and held it still. Soft and deliciously warm
lips, almost like a cunt, encircled my fingers all the way to their
base. Breigha's tongue swirled around and between them, and her mouth
sucked insistently all the way up their length. All too soon the lips
retreated and were gone. My hand was released.

	"Your turn, Peter."

	I repeated the ritual, this time pausing longer at Linda's
clitoris. She squirmed and shuddered as I teased her. I put my wet
fingers to my lips and tongue and tasted my wife. William was right.
She was, as always, delicious.

	"I believe you're getting rave reviews, Linda. I think it's
time you appreciate what the three of us have enjoyed. Peter, from the
looks of how your fingers glistened, I'm sure there's plenty left.
Please assist your wife."

	For the third time, I probed my wife's vagina. Raising my
fingers to Linda's lips, she opened her mouth and took them in. As I
withdrew them, her tongue darted out and licked each finger clean.

	"You may lean forward and place your hands on my cock again,
Linda. Good. Cup my balls with your left hand and gently squeeze them
each time you pump the shaft with your right. Very good. Now Peter,
since you can't see this pretty scene, I'm going to help you
appreciate it fully, and to appreciate it without your sense of sight.
Remember your pledge of cooperation."

	My heart was racing and it took every bit of discipline not to
begin dry humping my wife's ass.

	"Place your hands on your wife's shoulders. Now I want you to
follow her arms down to the elbows. That's it. Now slowly move them
along her forearms to her wrists and finally to the tops of her hands.
I want you to gently grip your fingers around hers and experience
their motion. If you should accidentally touch me, don't worry,
nothing terrible will happen to you and no one will think you're a bad
person. Essentially, I want you to "see" your wife jack me off through
your sense of touch, to have you feel what she feels as she services
another man."

	As I began to comply, my mind raced and time slowed. I fought
the conflicting emotions, searching for balance and for a harmony
within myself that would let me do this, let me do this for Linda's
sake and for the sake of my own peace of mind.

			      Part Five

	The scene: Blindfolded, I was kneeling on the living room
floor, knees spread, groin tight against the backside of Linda, my
wife, who was also kneeling and sitting on her heels. Linda, in turn,
was kneeling between the outstretched legs of William, who sat on our
loveseat.

	Now, picture this: Me, Mr. Heterosexual, was leaning forward
with my arms around my wife. My left hand was placed over Linda's left
hand which squeezed and massaged William's balls. My right hand, in
turn, was placed over her right hand as she stroked up and down the
length of his cock. Meanwhile, I was the only one fully clothed (I had
NO idea what Breigha was wearing). Such are the things my wife's
fantasies are made of...

	I would have been more concerned about the situation, had my
cock been less in need of attention. As it was, I don't think I ever
remember having an erection so purely HARD and urgent. At times, my
fingers would slip between Linda's fingers (accidentally!), which were
slick with William's pre-cum, and I could feel the strange sensation
of touching another man's erect penis.

	"Linda, kneel up now. I want you to take the tip in your mouth
and fellate me. Peter, gently place your hands on both sides of her
head."

	We did as told. I could feel the motion of my wife's head as
her mouth engulfed William's cock.

	"That's a pretty sight, Peter. Ruby lips in a big "O," eyes
closed, concentrating on taking as much as she can, her husband
lovingly holding her bobbing head. I wonder if she uses her tongue on
the crown like this when she sucks your cock, or if this is just for
me? My god, it's heavenly."

	Nearby, the ever present sound of the camera shutter.

	"Linda, keep your lips locked on the head. Now, Peter, this
will be an important watershed, but I have confidence in you. I want
you to reach around with your right hand and masturbate me. I want you
to jack me off into your wife's mouth. Don't stop until I've come and
Linda has taken all of it and swallowed. I also want you to place your
left hand very lightly and gently around the underside of her throat
so you can feel her swallow, but in any case be careful not to squeeze
or press too hard. Linda, look me in the eyes. Look nowhere else until
I tell you otherwise."

	Dear Distiller of Fine Brandy: I would like to express my DEEP
appreciation for your excellent product. Thank-you, thank-you, thank-
you...

	Okay, here we go. I reached around, grasped his erection, and
began the eternal ritual. He was quite large, indeed. It was coated
with pre-ejaculate and my wife's saliva. My left hand softly held the
underside of Linda's warm throat.

	Each time my fingers rose to the top, they would touch my
wife's clenched lips: a soft ring of flesh capping the pole I stroked
as I would want mine stroked.

	"Ah, this is exquisite. And we are so proud of Peter, aren't
we, Linda? He must love you very much. Think about this, pretty lady.
Think about the two men, one in front and one behind you, one whose
cock is firmly in your mouth, for all purposes a total stranger, and
the other your husband, carefully milking that man's sex, the tip of
which you hold between your lips. Isn't sexuality wonderful? There
are so many possibilities in life... "

	As motor-mouth went on, I could feel his hips begin to buck up
into Linda's mouth in rhythm with my hand. Linda had begun to moan
softly through her nose, and I increased the speed and pressure of my
hand.

	"Don't take your eyes off mine, Linda. I want to see into your
soul as I come. You and your husband's submission and trust is very
beautiful, very erotic. As you swallow this, remember that your trust
is not misplaced."

	With that, William began to cum in Linda's mouth. I stroked
violently up and down his cock and at the same time gently stroked
Linda's throat. I could feel her swallowing motions as his semen went
down into my wife's belly. A few warm strands escaped onto my pumping
fist.

	His orgasm subsided quickly. Linda's tongue swirled around the
still engorged head and around my slippery fingers. After licking
William clean, she took my fingers and cleaned them also. I wanted, I
NEEDED to fuck her, to fuck someone. Hell, I'd have fucked the carpet
on the floor at this point.

	"Thank-you, Peter. Thank-you, Linda. Peter, please forgive the
poor humor in this, but you may now kiss the bride."

	Linda turned her head, and I reached around for her mouth with
mine. I tongued deeply and passionately. She tasted sweet and salty;
she tasted female; she tasted of cum and of lust.

	"I'm going to nurse my scotch for a little bit, folks, and
enjoy the show. Breigha, I can see, is no longer able to operate a
camera effectively, anyway, what with one hand in her pants. Linda is
not in the least bit satisfied yet. And Peter... well, what can I say
about Peter? You look a little peaked, there, Peter. A little horny,
perhaps?"

	"I've been less horny."

	He chuckled. "Yes, I'm sure you have. All right. Breigha and
Linda, would you please help Peter up and stand him in front of the
fire?"

	I stood and was guided to just in front of the fireplace. Soft
hands turned me so I faced the living room away from the heat of the
flaming embers.

	"Remove his pants and shorts. You can leave his sweater on."

	One pair of hands unbuckled my belt while another lowered my
zipper. My pants were shed to my ankles and I stepped out of them.

	A set of nails ever so lightly ran up and down the length and
underside of my cock through my shorts. A cool hand slipped into my
shorts from behind and through the opening for my left leg, gently
caressed me, and retreated. Suddenly, I felt lips pressing against the
tip of my cock. They blew wet, hot breath which soaked into the fabric
of my shorts.

	"Now the shorts, ladies. That's good. Say, Peter, it looks
like you've got a bit of an erection there. Would you turn to the side
so we can get a profile with the fire behind you? Nice. The ladies
seem to appreciate it. I think they would appreciate it even more if
you did a little showing off for them. Am I right, ladies? I thought
so. Go ahead, Peter, masturbate for them. Stroke it like your wife
stroked yours the night she came home and told you about being fucked
by another man. Spread your legs further apart and stroke it slowly
for your wife and for my wife."

	I reached with my right hand and began to pump my cock. Images
of Linda's "fling," of her raunchy dancing with a strange man, of
sucking him in her car, of her being fucked from behind in his
apartment, and of everything that had happened tonight sprang to mind.
All my self-consciousness was gone. There was an unbelievable feeling
of release and freedom, masturbating in the dark, to the dark, in
front of strangers, in front of my wife...

	"You have a sexy, masculine, well kept and well proportioned
body, Peter. I'm not saying that because I desire you, but only in
admiration. We've all tasted Linda, Peter. Now I want you to taste
yourself. Squeeze the tip onto your finger and taste it."

	I complied. It tasted musky, not unpleasant, and the taste
immediately went to the back of my throat.

	"Good. Now spread your feet a little bit wider, just past
shoulder length, and put your hands on your hips. Leave them there
until I tell you otherwise. Ladies, I want one of you to kneel in
front of Peter and take his cock in your mouth. I want the other to
kneel behind him and to put your tongue and lips between the cheeks of
his ass. You are not to touch him with your hands. I want you to make
him cum with only your mouths. The way he looks, it doesn't appear
that it will take much effort."

	A brief silence and then, like a dispensation from heaven
itself, a wet mouth closed suddenly over the tip of my cock. Warm
breath between my ass cheeks, then the almost unbearable sensation of
an insistent, probing tongue at my ass-hole. Who was who, here?

	Which was Linda and which Breigha? Did it really matter? Not a
damn bit.

	The feel of two mouths at the same time, one suckling on my
erection, the other gently probing my anus, was unlike anything I had
ever felt. A sudden thrust of the tongue from behind, penetrating me,
would send my hips involuntarily jerking forward into the depths of
the waiting mouth and throat. I concentrated on the pure pleasure of
the sensation, exquisite as it was, and blocked all else out. My only
problem was my need to occasionally pay attention to my leg muscles
and to my balance. Although I worked out regularly, my legs seemed
rubbery just now.

	An orgasm began to gather deep in my gut, somewhere in my
core, between the root of my cock and my ass. It coalesced on a cliff
or precipice in my soul and I teetered at the edge, that edge of
indescribable ecstasy when the pleasure seems to be nowhere and
everywhere, that brief eternity just before we finally tip and fall
into the depths of an unstoppable orgasm. And then I came in a great
tsunami of pent-up animal lust. I came in the sucking mouth,
ejaculating wave after wave of semen from deep in my testicles.

	It seemed like it would never stop. I wondered briefly whether
Linda or Breigha, whoever was receiving it, was beginning to get
concerned about that possibility themselves. My knees were starting to
buckle, and a hand reached out from the woman kneeling in front of me,
took my hand, and steadied me.

	As the reflexive jerking of my hips and body began to subside,
the lips retreated from my still erect penis, the mouth at my ass
gently kissed one last time, and both women rose slowly. I could tell
it was not my wife in front of me. She was a bit taller than Linda
and, as she pressed up against me, I could feel her breasts were
fuller and more rounded. Linda pressed against me from behind and both
women reached around me with their arms, holding themselves and me
between them. We gently rocked from side to side, and Breigha began to
kiss me lightly on my face, on my forehead, gently on my closed
eyelids, on the tip of my nose. I could feel Linda's soft, warm breath
behind my ear.

	"I'm speechless," William said.

	Right. And frogs aren't waterproof, I thought.

	"Okay, I know what you're all thinking. So I'm never exactly
speechless. But I am deeply impressed. If you ladies would escort
Peter to the couch before he slips down between you like a wet rag, I
believe he would be grateful."

	They helped me to the couch and sat down beside me, cuddling
like little girls. There was silence for several minutes.

	"I think it's time to put Linda in the spotlight again,"
William said suddenly. "While I can only speak for myself, it looks
like I've sprouted another insistent stiffy just from watching that
magnificent performance. How about it, Peter, are you up to a little
more play?"

	My cock was still erect and calling for attention, had never
softened a bit, in fact.

	"I believe I am, William. And I don't suppose you have
anything particular in mind, do you?"

	He chuckled. "As a matter of fact... "

			       Part Six

	"Ladies, bring Peter with you and come stand in front of me,"
William said.

	We rose from the couch and moved together toward William. I
was stopped by the gentle, guiding hands. Silence for a moment or two.

	"Will you all kindly move so that Linda is in the center of
the triad you form. Linda, take your panties off, and hand them to
your husband. Now, turn around, spread your legs a bit, bend at the
waist and place your hands on your ankles. There, that's fine. Can you
spread your feet apart a bit more? Good. And can you comfortably
maintain that position for a little while?,"

	"I think so," Linda replied.

	"Peter, reach down with both your hands and spread your wife's
buttocks, please. Yes, just so. I do enjoy contemplating and enjoying
a woman in this position. It touches the sublimated animal nature in a
man, and is more primitive than face to face coupling. The spiked
heels, long sculpted legs rising to creamy tight buttocks, the pink
rosebud asshole, nearly hairless, topping a small and luscious cunt.
Ah, yes. The cunt. That alter of adolescent dreams and adult passion.
How much semen in our long history has been spilled as an offering to
the cunt-dreams and obsessions of young boys? And even as grown men,
having just received the satisfaction of its sacrament, how often does
the lust, desire and even pain remind us that we LACK a cunt around
our prick, or at the end of our fingers or tongue, and that, by god,
it's time to worship again?"

	"Linda, you have a cunt of great beauty. If it could speak, it
would BEG to be penetrated. It would speak of probing fingers, or of
soft tongues. The small drop of honey just here... "

	Linda's entire body shivered. "Oh, god... " she moaned.

	"... entwined in the soft pubic hair rising above your
clitoris, speaks plainly enough to anyone willing to listen. It tells
me that you need, you want, you must have my cock, your husband's
cock, any cock inside of you. Would you like to milk my cock with your
cunt, dear Linda?"

	"Yes, yes I'd like that... "

	"I know you would. Peter, give me your hand."

	Holding Linda's left buttock apart with my left hand, I felt
William grasp my right hand by the wrist. He guided it down and placed
it into the cleft of my wife's open buttocks. Releasing my wrist, he
placed his hand on top of mine and moved both our hands downward
together, almost as one. As my middle finger moved along the beginning
of Linda's slit, his middle finger, resting atop mine, suddenly
pressed downward and both of our fingers penetrated deep into Linda's
vagina.

	William spoke softly, close to my ear, but loud enough for all
to hear. "To share your loving wife with another man, as you share
Linda with me, is very beautiful, Peter. It bespeaks a profound
understanding that the most wonderful, the most loving manifestation
of possession is to share. And to share, unreservedly, what we love
most teaches us the gracious lesson that we can never really 'possess'
another human being, that all we can ever do is to give, and give, and
then give again. It is not a trite lesson to learn that the more we
cling to things, the more they slip away, while the more we give
things up, the more they come to us."

	As he spoke, our fingers probed Linda. Together, they moved in
and out, turned about, returned, then slowly left her lubricated cunt.

	"I can see Linda is getting a bit uncomfortable. You can stand
up, dear. Peter, sit here on the couch; let me help you. Now sit back
and spread your legs. Linda, get down on your knees in front of your
husband and rest your arms on his thighs."

	I felt Linda's cool hands slide along the tops of my thighs.
There was a moment or two of silence. Suddenly, I felt her hands
tighten and she dug her nails into my legs. There was a deep
exhalation of breath from her lips.

	"My cock is buried in your wife, Peter. Linda, you can use
your hands on your husband, but not your mouth. Right now, I want to
be the only one penetrating you in any way. Breigha, please kneel
behind me and caress my buttocks."

	As Linda began to masturbate me, I felt the rhythmic rocking
motion, from William's slow thrusting, being transmitted through her.
Every once in a while, William's thrusts would be more violent, and
Linda would jerk forward. The only sound, besides Linda's occasional
moans and deep breathing, was the "slap" each time his hips met my
wife's buttocks.

	"Linda, let go of your husband's cock, lay your head on his
lap, and arch your back downward and your hips up. Much better. Now
take your right hand, place the middle finger in your husband's mouth,
and fuck him with it, exactly like I'm fucking you. When I go deep, go
deep in his mouth. When I slow down and move it around inside, I want
you to mirror it with the same motion of your finger. I want you to
fuck your husband exactly as you're being fucked."

	Linda's long finger entered my mouth, then slowly withdrew.
It's tip circled about my lips, teasingly, then suddenly penetrated as
Linda jerked forward and breathed a low "Mmmmmmm... " It went deep, to
the back of my throat, sloooowwwwwly withdrew until just the tip clung
at the edge of my lips, then penetrated again to the hilt. With her
finger inserted to its full length, she began to move the base in a
large circle where my lips engulfed it. It moved out just a bit, then
began to fuck inward with the rhythmic forward jerks of Linda's body.
As Linda fucked my mouth and as William fucked Linda, she began to
mouth the raunchy obscenities I knew foretold a coming orgasm.

	"Linda, as you cum with another man's cock buried in your
cunt, and as you fuck your husband's mouth, I want you to tell him
that you love him, that even though the little slit between your legs,
all your lovely body, has been given up and offered to me, that your
submission and gift is really to him."

	Trying to catch her breath, between the now savage shagging of
her proffered bottom, Linda spoke to me.

	"Peter... darling... I do love you. Oh, god... He's fucking me
so hard... but... I'll always love you, Peter... I'll always be your
wife... this has all been for you, for us... Oh, my god... Peter, I'm
cumming... "

	Linda's orgasm was long and hard. She dropped both hands to my
waist and gripped me almost painfully. Her body shuddered and thrust
back against William's pumping cock, clinging to it, trying to engulf
it, to open herself totally and to give up every inch of the depth she
had to offer, to pull his penis up into the core of her belly.

	Breathing heavily, her body slick with sweat and jerking with
post-orgasmic shivers, I held her head in my hands. My cock, engorged
with blood and heavy, lay beneath her heaving chest. I felt William
lean forward and gently kiss the top of her head, then quietly
disengage. There was silence for few moments.

	"Try to rise, Linda. We have the last chapter to write
together, the one you specifically requested. Breigha darling, bring
the cream, please."

	I felt Linda rise unsteadily. There was movement to my left,
then Breigha knelt on the couch beside me. After a brief pause, two
cool hands, coated with soft cream, circled my cock. They worked up
the base to the tip, smearing the cream around every inch of my hard-
on. As the fingers worked, William talked.

	"As Breigha has her fun... please, let's not get too carried
away, dear; Peter doesn't look like he has a lot of self-control
left... let me tell you what is happening, Peter. I'm standing behind
your wife, my friend, my hands around her front and in her crotch,
playing with that sweet cunt I just fucked, my cock rubbing up into
the crack of her ass. Oooh, Linda, dear! I guess you could say she's
doing the rubbing, Peter! Anyway, her hands are reaching around behind
us and she's massaging my ass cheeks. We're both watching Breigha's
handiwork and your commendable efforts to keep from cumming. Tell me,
Linda, how would you like to have a seat on Peter's creamy pole?"

	"I think I'd like that."

	"I think you'd both like that. Let's accommodate your husband.
Please spread your legs a bit, Peter."

	I felt Linda move between my legs as she placed both palms on
my knees.

	"Scoot forward a bit, Peter. There, that's good. Lower
yourself a little, Linda. Here, let me hold your ass cheeks open.
Breigha, kindly guide Peter."

	As Breigha held my cock, Linda lowered her ass onto me. Anal
sex had been a turn on for me as long as I could remember, but Linda
had been sensitive there and seemed to enjoy it only rarely.
Accordingly, we indulged occasionally, but not as often as I would
have liked.

	As the tip touched her, she stopped. Then, slowly, she let her
weight press down. Just at the point where I thought Breigha must be
mis-aiming, the head pushed through the tight ring of her anus and
entered smoothly. Linda inhaled sharply, then let out a throaty groan.
Slowly, ever so slowly, she settled down and down, down the length of
my cock, taking every inch until I felt William's fingers, holding her
buttocks, rest on my lap. As his fingers pulled out from between us,
she finally let her full weight rest on me, and was now impaled
totally.

	"A woman taking a large and erect cock fully in the ass is a
marvelous sight, Linda. Breigha and I would enjoy the view better,
though, if you would lean back against your husband's chest. That's
better. Now put your feet up and on top of his knees. William, spread
your legs wider."

	We did as asked. I could imagine the scene: my cock buried in
my wife's ass, leaning back, her legs spread and her feet resting on
my knees, her sex open and soaked above the stretched, full anus.
William's voice suddenly came from near my ear, just behind the couch.

	"Breigha, please kneel down in front of them and use your
tongue to good advantage. Peter, I want you and Linda to relax, and
enjoy my wife's attention. In the meantime, I'm going to reach down
here over your shoulder, take your wife's hips, and move her up and
down your cock. Please let me do the work, Peter. I like to think that
I will be fucking your wife in the ass with your cock. It's a good
thing you're so petite, Linda. This might have been interesting,
otherwise."

	As Breigha's tongue swirled around my balls, the place where
Linda and I were joined, and my wife's cunt, I felt William's arms
reach down over my shoulders from behind, and his hands grasp Linda's
hips. Slowly, the tight ring gripping my cock rose up to the tip,
hesitated, then descended. Linda gasped as she was once again impaled
on my probing penis.

	"It is the most incredible sensation to be fucked in the ass,
is it not, Linda? There is no other feeling of "fullness" and
penetration that approaches it. To submit to an ass-fuck is to be
truly opened, possessed and owned. Watching your husband's cock slide
up between your cute, dimpled ass cheeks is a sublime picture, I can
assure you. And to have others watch your submission and penetration,
to have strangers witness this offering of the most intimate and
private part of your body to a man and to the phallus, is truly sweet
and decadent, yes?"

	"Yes," she whispered. "Yes, it is."

	Breigha suddenly probed with her finger at my ass, then slowly
insinuated it deep into my rectum, turned it around, then withdrew it.
Returning again, she began to fuck my ass with the full length of her
digit while continuing to tongue the underside of my testicles.
Meanwhile, William had begun to raise and lower Linda, the ring of her
stretched rectum sliding up to the tip and back to the base, the
movement regular and smooth. I could tell being manhandled and lifted
like a child by William was turning Linda on even more. She moaned
each time, at the top, as the tip nearly pulled free, only to have her
body lowered once again.

	I lowered my hand and felt my balls, pushed three fingers into
Breigha's mouth, moved up and felt my creamy cock and the juncture
where my wife and I were intimately joined, the almost obscenely
stretched ring of her anus, full now and easily accepting the fuck,
then moved up and plunged into her cunt, retreated and centered
finally on the little nib of her clitoris.

	As I masturbated my wife the way I know she loves, I had a
sudden epiphany. I imagined that William was masturbating me, using my
wife's ass and body to jack me off. The thought passed quickly and was
obliterated by the pure pleasure of the many sensations: Breigha's
slightly painful but very erotic probing of my ass, her tongue on my
full testicles, my wife's tight ass-hole sliding almost magically up
and down the full height of my rigid pole, her warm breath and animal
moans low in my ear, her fingers in my hair. Sensing we were close,
William had begun to raise and lower Linda more quickly, nearly
slamming her down on my lap, fucking her in the ass with my cock.

	As Linda's orgasm peaked, her body writhing in pleasure and
pushing her pelvic bone and clitoris hard against my frigging fingers,
her anus clenching and unclenching, I shot my semen into her ass. I
arched my back and rammed upwards as deeply as I could into her ruined
bottom. She screamed once, loudly, as every muscle in her body tensed
and shivered. As we both came, William reached around from behind and
gently, lovingly, cupped both our foreheads in his warm hands.
Breigha had knelt up and was stroking Linda's belly and breasts,
occasionally planting light kisses on the insides of my thighs.

	It was in this way that time stood still, or so it seemed. The
last few waves of orgasm so slowly dissipated that I do not remember
when I finally realized that it was over, what may have been many
minutes or hours later, and came awake as if from a dream. I do not
remember the demarcation between "orgasm" and "no more orgasm." I only
remember the four of us frozen like that for what seemed like hours,
dreamily stroking and being stroked, neither Linda nor I attempting to
remove my semi-erect cock from her rectum, and both of us running our
hands up and down our sweaty bodies, kissing like teenagers, feeling
the dreamy touch of strangers everywhere.

	Just barely, I remember William and Breigha dressing, hugging
us, saying their final goodbyes, and the blindfold being removed. I
remember, in the hazy red glow of nearly dead embers, seeing my wife
for the first time in hours, her hair akimbo, face flushed and
anxious, full of life and love and wanting everything to be all right.
We slept what was left of that night on the living-room floor, arms
and legs entwined within a soft comforter, wrapped around us like a
womb.

				* * *

	Saturday, I rose before Linda, showered and began to make her
favorite breakfast of sourdough pancakes. I squeezed some fresh orange
juice, and sliced a few avocados that we would dip in the cream cheese
I was softening.

	I heard the shower begin running and knew Linda had risen. She
soon shuffled bleary-eyed into the kitchen, staring at the little
feast I had prepared, and sat her pretty little behind at the dinette
(I noticed she sat down a little gingerly). Her hair was still wet
from the shower and she wore my red bathrobe tucked around her like a
large tent.

	"It rises, it moves, it appears hungry... Dare I feed it?"

	"It gets fed, or it inserts an avocado pit in your left
nostril," she said grinning.

	"Oooooooh. Scary."

	I produced the sourdough flapjacks with a flourish, then
grabbed the maple syrup I had warmed. I sat down and we enjoyed the
breakfast for a few minutes in silence.

	"You know I've got a thousand questions I want to ask you," I
started suddenly. "Like how you met this William and Breigha, what you
told them, how you set this all up, etc. Oh, and by the way, is this
the end of your fantasy? This multi-part fantasy stuff is okay, but
it's a double-edge sword, you know. MY turn is coming up and you know
how much I thrive on precedent. When are we getting the pictures? How
do we know they aren't keeping copies? What did they look like? How
old were they? Jesus, did you believe the ego of that guy? God, you
were sexy as hell. Babe, I REALLY had a good time, but I was wondering
what... "

	Linda suddenly put her hand up in exasperation.

	"Look, sweetheart, we can talk about all this later. Right
now, I can tell you that I've pretty much shot my fantasy wad, at
least for a while. It's your turn, dear husband. Now let me eat my
pancakes in peace, okay?" she said with a smile.

	"Okay, okay... I just want you to know that you're not making
it easy to top you!"

	Linda looked up and narrowed her eyes. "So this is a
COMPETITION? I see. Fine. Just fine. Remember, though, that YOU
brought it up. I can whip your ass at anything I set my mind to,
including scrabble."

	"Hey, wait a minute, it's not my fault. It's all that goddamn
testosterone sloshing around in my blood. You know how it goes... "

	"Yeah, I know, you're nothing but a big, walking testes with a
dick for a nose. Well, I'm ready for whatever YOUR puny little
"perverted" brain can come up with, husband of mine!" Linda said with
an evil grin and a twinkle in her eye. She got up from the chair,
kissed me on the forehead and sashayed out of the kitchen.

	I nibbled the corner of a half-eaten, soggy pancake and
weighed the 50 or 60 different ideas I'd been storing up for the last
30 years or so. Yeah, I think I could top her. But not in the way she
may THINK I would try to top her.

	As all the scenarios unfolded in my mind like a cheaply
wrapped package, my dick stood to attention. I started to load the
dishwasher (remembering to rinse them first). Life is so full of
possibilities...

				 End