From: archive@croydon.dartmouth.edu (CNR Archive)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: CNR: Wife (Fm,wife,nc,twiste)
Date: 19 Oct 1995 19:46:13 GMT
Organization: Croydon Network Research at Dartmouth College
Message-ID: <4669u5$3r0@dartvax.dartmouth.edu>
Files from the CNR Archive/Disclaimer:
I did not write these stories, but have archived them from public newsgroups,
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author has been maintained.
All of these stories are of adult nature, and may not be viewed by children
under the age of 18, or where they are prohititted by law. Some of these
stories are extremely explicit -- containing graphic descriptions of illegal
or immoral activities, such as incest or violence -- and may not be appropriate
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Don't bother mailing me for reposts, with comments, etc; if the author left
an address, mail them if you like.
<Scroll down to start reading..
if you're offended by this sort of thing,
or a minor, exit now...>
-----
WIFE (In 6 parts)
Part 1
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 are 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 my 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.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
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 bannister. I quickly tore it open and began to
read:
My Fantasy Part I
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 "tong" 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 hardon. 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 2
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, alright!?) I hadn't gone very far with that
particular mastabatory 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:
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
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 cock-sucker 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 4 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.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
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 3
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 alright 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.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
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 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 judgement 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 embarassed 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 4
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 daresay 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 it's 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 her's 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 5
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 everpresent 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 motormouth 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. Alright. 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 ecstacy 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 6 (Conclusion)
"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 cuming...."
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 man-
handled 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
alright. 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.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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....
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
End of WIFE