Sixth Chapter: Another Round of Poker
"Good morning, darling. Today, I'm your breakfast. How would you like me?"
Cathy had woken up before me and there was no sign of Helen.
"Sunny side up," I said after having studied Cathy's marvelous body for a while. She immediately understood my allusion and draped herself across my lap to make her bottom easily accessible to my hand.
I had watched Cathy being spanked by my four friends the previous evening, but had refrained from joining in because I thought that four rounds of spanking were more than enough. Cathy had had some time to recover and apparently she was keen on feeling my hand on her bottom.
The only other time I had ever spanked a woman was when I wanted to teach Helen a lesson. At that time, I had really felt that Helen deserved to be punished and I had treated her pretty harshly - at least that's what I thought.
But now I was in a much more playful mood. I had no longer any reason to want to punish Cathy - on the contrary. She had been the key player in an evening I was sure I would never forget. Nevertheless, I was attracted to the idea of turning her cheeks, which had returned to their natural pale color, a dark shade of pink again.
I rubbed her bottom gently. Cathy swooned with delight and pushed her rear up against my hand, as if she were demanding a firmer touch. Then, when I thought she least expected it, I slapped her cheeks, but without putting a lot of strength into the blow. Cathy didn't remain as quiet as she had been the evening before. She gasped and shrieked when my hand made contact and giggled when it slid down between her cheeks and played with her pussy. It seemed that for Cathy having her bottom spanked had turned into a new, exciting form of foreplay.
We had been enjoying ourselves for a while, and I started thinking about taking the fun a little further when Helen arrived with our breakfast. She was dressed in a black body stocking which clung to her body like a second skin.
'Everything is covered, but nothing is hidden,' I thought immediately. It didn't take skilled eyes like mine to detect every curve, every mountain and every valley. The garment adjusted instantly to every movement of her lithe body. The term cat-suit came to my mind. The only parts which weren't covered were her hands, her face and her neck.
Helen is of slim build and she isn't particularly tall, but with this outfit she turned into a commanding figure, someone who is to be obeyed. Her attire turned Helen into a figure of authority. Looking at her made me think of practitioners of some martial arts with their ascetic costumes and ritualistic movements.
But there was also something extremely frustrating about this suit. I knew that touching her through the textile would be almost as pleasurable as touching her naked body, but, somehow, the garment made it clear that we weren't supposed to touch her. She seemed to become less and less accessible.
Helen's behavior towards us hadn't changed, though. She apologized for the delay in the breakfast service as she placed the trays on our night tables.
"I've been on the phone to Australia," she explained. "Because of the time difference, I have to call people early in the morning to catch them before they go to bed."
Helen also told us that she had already taken care of the mess we had left behind, put the leftovers into the fridge and the glasses into the dishwasher. "I also washed the tablecloth, but I don't know if that stain Cathy left behind will disappear completely." She sounded like a perfect housekeeper, and there was a hint of disapproval in her voice when she talked about Cathy letting her juices leak onto the tablecloth.
"Don't you feel any regrets about what you did last night?" Helen asked while Cathy and I were devouring our breakfast.
The question took me by surprise. Helen almost sounded like a guardian of moral standards. Why would she disapprove of our behavior? Everything had happened exactly as we had jointly planned. Or did she disapprove of the fact that Cathy had gotten so much enjoyment out of flashing her pussy at my friends, letting them feel her up, and finally getting spanked by them? Was Helen frustrated that what she had planned as Cathy's punishment had nearly turned into an orgy?
"I don't have any reason to regret anything that happened last night," I said firmly. I was ready to defend Cathy against any accusation of lewdness.
"Neither do I," Cathy joined me. "In fact, given another opportunity, I'd do everything exactly the same."
"I'm glad you both feel like this about it," Helen said as she picked up our trays, emptied of anything edible. "And, Cathy, I may take you up on that offer." As she left our bedroom, Helen reminded us, "Today is a normal training day. I'll see you downstairs in fifteen minutes."
Cathy and I looked at each other. "She's tricked us," I said. "Particularly you."
"Never mind," Cathy answered. "I didn't say anything I didn't mean. And while we're on the subject: you should have thought of spanking me a long time ago. Just to think of all the years I went without! I consider this a serious character flaw on your part."
"It's a past character flaw," I assured her. "Let's not talk about our sins of the past, otherwise I'll have to present you with a long list too."
We spent most of the day in the gym of horrors, which Helen insisted on calling 'pleasure palace' and Cathy had baptized 'discipline den'. Once more I spent hours chained to the wall, having my cock stimulated while it and my balls were trapped in a harness. When I didn't enjoy and suffer from the effect Cathy's hands and mouth had on my cock, I watched her submitting to Helen's treatment.
Helen's imagination seemed to be unlimited when it came to causing her victim pain and subsequently bringing about relief. I had never thought it possible that one person could be both so cruel and so tender as Helen was when she dealt with Cathy. She could make Cathy writhe in agony, have her beg for mercy - and then let her experience an ear-shattering orgasm by touching her ever so lightly. The spectacle was both frightening and exciting.
My own ordeal was not limited to being pinned to the wall. To break the monotony, Helen made me lie face down on the table, where she trussed me like a turkey ready for the oven. Then she hoisted me up, held by ropes which were attached to my tied arms and legs and left me dangling while she strapped Cathy to the table beneath me. Helen lowered me gradually until my cock was less than an inch away from Cathy's pussy. Then she left the room, leaving us straining to make contact.
I could hear Helen tap away at the computer in the room next door, which we used as our home office, as I made a superhuman effort to get my cock to touch Cathy's pussy. Cathy also strained against her ties, trying to lift her bottom off the table and bring her pussy closer to my cock. The effort left both of us exhausted and frustrated.
When Helen returned after what seemed like hours - at least that's what my arms and legs felt like - she lowered me ever so slightly until my cock could touch Cathy's pussy. Helen also loosened Cathy's straps a little so that she could push her pussy up to meet my hard rod.
It felt so good! What we did, could not be described as fucking, not by any stretch of the imagination. I managed to get my body into a swinging movement, and as I passed back and forth like a pendulum, my cock head would graze Cathy's pussy lips which she strained to offer me. The contact our genitals made was so light, almost imperceptible, but it raised our excitement to an unsustainable level. When I saw Cathy's face convulse as she reached her climax, I was no longer able to hold back. My swinging cock gushed its cum all over Cathy's pussy and belly; some of it also landed on the table.
My next task was to clean up the mess I had made - with my tongue. Helen watched closely to make sure that I left both Cathy and the table immaculately clean.
Later that day, over a relaxed meal in a pleasant restaurant, I tried to satisfy my curiosity about what Helen was working on when she used the computer. Helen's reaction surprised me. At first, she all but denied that she had used the computer.
"I could clearly hear you typing while I was hanging from the ceiling, trying to grow my cock by another inch," I reminded her.
"Oh, that," she said, looking almost embarrassed. "I'm only experimenting, throwing a few ideas around. It may never get beyond the experimental stage. It's nothing that's ripe for discussion. When I get somewhere, I'll let you know."
I found her answer less forthcoming than her usual behavior. It was in marked contrast to the young lady we met not so long ago, who had talked with so much enthusiasm about her work. Her answer made me suspect that she was hiding something. Had she decided to start writing a novel of her own instead of translating other people's work and felt unsure about her talent as a writer?
If she wasn't working on any translation, maybe she was keeping a detailed diary? That would explain her reluctance to talk about it. Maybe her diary contained comments about Cathy and me? I would have loved to know what Helen had to say about us, particularly about me.
My curiosity was aroused. After that evening, I found myself frequently checking the computer after Helen had used it. But she always logged off and never left any traces of what she had been doing lying around.
Helen continued to serve us breakfast in bed every morning. She also took care of most other chores around the house and did the daily shopping - Cathy and I were immobilized a considerable part of our time and couldn't look after those tasks.
The black body stocking became a permanent feature. It almost seemed that it was the only item of clothing in Helen's wardrobe. Would I never again see her without this second skin? Sure, she was wonderful to look at; the garment almost looked like it had been sprayed onto her body. But my eyes, my hands and my mouth longed for the naked skin beneath the synthetic fiber. Would she remain a forbidden fruit forever?
But how could I have any negative feelings towards Helen because of her inaccessibility? Hadn't she given me a new Cathy, a woman hot as dynamite, willing to indulge in sexual pleasures, no matter what form they took? Wasn't she in the process of turning my cock into a tool which would be able to satisfy Cathy or any other woman - even the most demanding?
Maybe we had progressed past the stage where she offered us her body to let us realize our fantasies. Maybe now it was up to Cathy and me to satisfy each other's lust. I remembered her words, 'You'll have to become self-sufficient - or look for other partners to whom you can teach what you've learnt.' Was the day she would leave us getting close?
Helen's behavior gave no indication of an imminent departure. Our 'training' continued on its planned course. At least I assumed that there was a plan behind the sequence of ever-changing torments Helen put us through.
Cathy was subjected a few more times to Helen's mock caning. It never failed to have the desired effect. As soon as the cane swished through the air, Cathy lost control of her bladder and filled the bowl Helen had placed preemptively between Cathy's legs. The cane barely touched Cathy's bottom, but she was convinced that she had been castigated harshly. She turned into a little girl, screaming and sobbing uncontrollably.
Cathy's horror of being caned reached such dimensions that she panicked at the mere sight of the caning horse being lowered from the wall. Helen had to drag her, kicking and screaming, to the bar and use all her skills to bend Cathy over the beam and fasten the loops around her arms and legs.
I was stupefied by Cathy's abject fear of the cane and by the intensity of her reaction to canings which never happened. Obviously, something had happened to Cathy in the past which terrified her still today. Helen had somehow found out about it, but Cathy had never mentioned anything to me.
Once, when we had a few minutes on our own, I asked Cathy about the reason behind her fear. Cathy just said, "I don't want to talk about it." The tone of her voice made it clear that it wouldn't be a good idea to insist.
Helen gave me a chance to find out for myself what it's like to be bent over the caning horse. In my case, the cane whizzed right through and hit my bottom with full force - and it wasn't a pleasant sensation.
But this was nothing in comparison with the suffering I had to endure while I was chained to the wall with my balls trapped in Helen's devilish device. There were times when I felt like a cock with a body attached. At least that's how Cathy and Helen treated me. I suspected that the two increased the time of my suffering by a little every day. The eruptions of my cock when my balls were finally released were spectacular and left me - well, drained.
I also learned how to control myself when I wasn't wearing the harness. It seemed that my cock got used to being permanently hard. I could fuck Cathy for long periods without stopping. Sometimes I even stayed hard after I came and continued to fuck her as if nothing had happened.
One day, Helen had Cathy lick me, suck me and stroke me from early morning to late afternoon. My balls hurt so much, I was ready to faint. Then, suddenly, Helen led Cathy away from me and strapped her to the table. Helen removed my harness and, using the exquisite touch of her hands, brought my already boiling cock to the overflow. She caught the cum spurting from my dick in a glass bowl. I couldn't believe how much spunk I was able to produce. When I ceased spurting, Helen carried the bowl to Cathy and held it to her mouth.
"Drink," she said. "If you waste one drop, you get a caning."
Cathy didn't spill a single drop.
I watched the scene in awe. Could there possibly be a more depraved, a more perverted act than Cathy sipping my cum from a bowl? But instead of feeling disgusted, I felt utterly excited. My cock was rock-hard. It seemed that it had never gone soft. And I wanted to plunge it into Cathy's mouth, right where my cum had disappeared.
Helen must have read my thoughts.
"Fuck her," she said, as she released me from my cuffs. "Stick your cock into every hole you can find."
I was in a frenzy. I was on top of the table and on top of Cathy in no time. I straddled her face and lowered my cock into her wide open mouth. I didn't want her to suck me. No, I wanted to fuck her face. I drove deep into her cum-swilling mouth. At first she gagged as I entered her throat, but she soon adjusted her position to accommodate my rod.
Next, with Cathy still strapped to the table, I fucked her soaking wet cunt which she offered me just as willingly as she had offered her mouth. Finally, I untied her, turned her around and made her bend over the table. I entered her rear with one firm stroke. I thrust into her ass like an animal. I wanted to compensate her for all the unsatisfactory fucks of the past, for all the prematurely terminated lovemaking. Cathy did not seem to mind that I treated her so roughly. She encouraged me with words and moans.
I don't know how long I had been pounding into Cathy's rear when I felt my climax approach. I wanted to deposit my seed in her mouth, where my earlier load had ended up. I pulled out of Cathy's ass, turned her around and fed her my cock which she eagerly sucked. It didn't take me long to fill her mouth with a second delivery of my hot spunk. Then I embraced Cathy and we held each other tight for a long time.
"What special surprise are you planning for this evening?" Helen asked Cathy as she served our breakfast.
It was exactly one week after Cathy had flashed her pussy so wantonly at my poker partners and had afterwards been spanked by them. 'This evening' referred to the fact that they were due to visit us again. I had decided to make up for all the evenings when I had skipped being the host 'for domestic reasons'.
"Hmm, I thought of getting some different types of bread. San Francisco sourdough, Irish soda bread, pumpernickel, black rye. And I've found a few new recipes for some interesting sandwich fillings. Chicken and avocado, for example..."
"No that's not what I mean," Helen interrupted her. "What are you going to do to make the evening a success?"
Cathy didn't quite know what Helen was getting at.
"Do you think one simple spanking makes up for all the hostility you treated them with over the years?"
"You mean I should let them spank me again? Alright. Every time they come here, they have the right to spank me for my unfriendly behavior. For as long as Stan thinks it's necessary."
Helen shook her head. "Wrong answer."
I could see from Cathy's face that she felt trapped. Helen had Cathy in her power. She was able to make Cathy agree to anything she wanted, but Cathy didn't know what Helen expected of her.
"I'll give you a hint. I sense that you'd like to have a closer look at the hard rods that were making their trousers bulge last time around."
Cathy didn't deny her interest in my friends' pricks.
"How about a nice sloppy blowjob for each of your guests?" Helen suggested. "That way you get to take a really close look at their cocks."
Cathy's jaw dropped. Helen was trying to push her further than Cathy was prepared to go. She shook her head.
"No, please!" Cathy pleaded. "I couldn't do that. They're Stan's friends. How could I face them again afterwards?"
It didn't sound like a firm refusal. There was a touch of resignation in her voice, an admission that she might have to agree in the end.
"You'll face them the same way you're going to face them after they spanked you and played with your pussy. Or would you rather I cane you in front of them?"
The last part wasn't pronounced like a question. It was a mere reminder of the power Helen had over Cathy. From what I had witnessed I knew that Cathy would do anything to avoid a caning, even a simulated one. And she certainly didn't want my friends to watch as she turned into an incontinent little girl at the sight of the cane.
"Alright. I'll suck them," Cathy said resignedly. "But only once," she added to maintain at least some degree of dignity.
Deciding what Cathy would wear that evening was more difficult. My thoughts were on a red see-through blouse Cathy had worn for a candlelight dinner in an intimate restaurant, a few months ago. Seeing the other guests and the waiters look at my wife's beautiful breasts had fired my passion so much that I made love to her in the cab home. And then again in the entrance hall, and again in our bed. I expected that watching my friends look at her in that blouse would have the same effect on me.
In fact, my thoughts were on see-through everything. I wanted to display my wife, the sexiest, the most enticing of creatures, to my friends. I wanted her to suck their cocks in the lewdest possible way to give them just a small taste of the pleasures this woman was giving me every day.
At this stage, Cathy was willing to wear whatever she was told. She would have agreed to appear stark naked if that's what we'd decide. But Helen had more conservative ideas. She wanted Cathy to look elegant, classy, like an up-market hooker. We opened the doors of Cathy's wardrobe and looked at the available options.
In the end we settled for a strapless evening dress. The black color lent an otherwise daring creation an air of respectability. The dress had hardly any back to speak of and the front seemed to be held up only by magic - and Cathy's full breasts. It reminded me of a Brazilian friend who once told me that the colloquial term for strapless in his country was 'tomara-que-caia', which, literally translated, means 'let's hope it falls'.
The lower part of the dress was a narrow skirt with a slit on one side. The slit could be adjusted by a zipper to show more or less of the wearer's legs. If Cathy wanted, she could make the slit go all the way up to her hip. I decided to be generous and let Cathy decide whether or not she would be wearing panties underneath the dress.
Expecting that the evening would offer plenty of excitement, Helen decided once more to keep our training light and started off with a massage. However, this time it was Cathy and I massaging each other. Helen did not get directly involved. She just told us what to do and sometimes showed us how to do it right. The effect of the massage on my arousal level was just as electrifying as the last time and Cathy reacted just as enthusiastically to my touch as she had the week before.
We reached a state in which both of us wanted just one thing: to fuck. But Helen told us this would have to wait until after our guests had left, and prescribed a course of cold showers.
As had happened a week before, Cathy made a dash for the door whenever the doorbell rang. The narrow skirt, which she had adjusted to show only her calves - at least for the start - made it difficult for her to move fast, but I realized that it was important to her to welcome my friends at the door and I didn't make any effort to get there before her.
"Gee, I like the dress!" was the standard exclamation I could hear whenever one of my buddies set eyes on Cathy. "I'm glad you do," Cathy would respond, and do a full turn so they could admire her splendid figure from all angles.
The evening passed in a similar fashion to the week before. We played a few rounds of poker, had a few beers and when we got hungry, we dug into the large selection of sandwiches Cathy had prepared. As on the previous occasion, Cathy stayed in the background but appeared as if by magic whenever one of us needed another beer. As she poured the drink, she stood close to the player to allow him to pass his hand over her backside or give her a gentle slap.
"Looks like everything is back in working order back there," Hank remarked as his hand moved up and down Cathy's bottom.
As the evening wore on, Cathy slid the zipper of her dress further and further up to reveal more and more of her legs. She needed a little more freedom of movement to perform a new variety of her 'picking up things which aren't there' trick. In the beginning she actually dropped a few bottle-tops to have something to pick up. As she bent down to look for them under the table she rubbed the cock of the nearest player through his trousers. I could see the delight in their faces in spite of their efforts not to let on what was happening.
I didn't win many games that evening; I was just as distracted as the other players, though probably for different reasons. I could see their 'greedy eyes' on Cathy's figure. They must have noticed how her curves put a strain on the tight dress and were quite possibly hoping for a 'wardrobe malfunction'. They noticed with interest how the slit on the side of her skirt kept growing upwards and revealed more and more of her beautiful legs. And, no doubt, Cathy's under-the-table massage of their manhood left them in a state which made it difficult to concentrate on something as trivial as a game of poker.
I had different reasons for being distracted. I knew what was going to happen in a short while. I imagined the scenes which were still to come, starting from the look on my friends' faces when Cathy would inform them of tonight's bonus program.
A sloppy blowjob by a busty blonde, isn't that what most men fantasize about? And my friends were going to have their dreams come true. They were going to get sucked off, not just by any old busty blonde, but by Cathy, my wife. I couldn't wait to see their faces when Cathy would announce her intention, and when she'd actually wrap her lips around their cocks, which - I was sure - were already twitching in their trousers.
As on the previous poker evening, the game just wasn't exciting enough to hold our attention for a long time. We soon decided to chuck it in and my friends were getting ready to leave when Cathy made her move.
"I just wanted to say how glad I am that you've forgiven me my unfriendly attitude in the past, guys. I think that's really generous of you."
My friends didn't see any need for Cathy to thank them. "Gee, Cathy, your lovely presence makes up for any misgivings that might have existed in the past," Tim said, expressing what all the others were feeling as well.
"Nevertheless, I think you deserve a special treat - all four of you."
The men probably expected the 'special treat' to be a desert, or maybe an unusual drink for the road. I could watch how the expression on their faces changed when Cathy announced what the special treat was.
"I've decided to give you a blowjob, each one of you."
There was stunned silence. They just didn't know if they had heard right. And if they had really understood what Cathy had said, then they didn't know what to say.
"Today we'll do it in the sequence in which you are sitting around the table. Tim will be first," Cathy said into the silence.
I expected Tim to ask, "Are you sure you really want to do this?" but he remained quiet as Cathy opened his belt, unzipped his fly and brought his fully-erect cock to her lips. I could feel my friends' eyes on me. They wondered how I would react, whether I would interfere, put a stop to Cathy's display of wantonness, but I didn't react.
At this point, the fact that Cathy was my wife was irrelevant. She was just one extremely sexy creature, making a show of her appetite for hard cocks. I was as engrossed as they were, watching Cathy trail her tongue along Tim's shaft, from his hairy balls to the top. I was just as aroused as they were, when I saw Cathy take Tim's cock into her mouth and move her lips up and down his shaft. I was just as surprised as they were when Cathy suddenly let go of Tim's cock and got up from the floor.
"We don't want this beautiful dress to get stained, do we?" Cathy said, as she undid the catch in the back which held her dress in place. Everybody gasped when they saw that taking off the dress left Cathy completely naked. Of course, I had seen Cathy naked before - in fact during the last weeks I had hardly seen her wear any clothes - but for my friends this was a first. And what they saw exceeded their expectations.
After stowing away her dress in a safe place, Cathy returned to her kneeling position and continued to give Tim a meltdown blowjob. Tim had already started to moan before the interruption - maybe Cathy had sensed that he was about to come and decided to remove her dress just in time. Now, his moans were growing louder, more urgent. I could tell from his face that he had reached the point of no return. Cathy let Tim's cock slip from her mouth, but kept it firmly in her hand as she directed the stream of his cum against her face. She kept stroking his cock to get the last drop out of it and finally wiped it on her cheeks to make sure nothing was wasted.
My friends and I gasped at Cathy's display of lewdness, at the obvious pleasure it gave her to have her face splattered with Tim's cum.
Oblivious to our reaction, Cathy moved around to where Eddy was sitting and proceeded to unwrap his packet. As expected, Eddy was just as ready as Tim had been. His cock was curved like a saber, pointing back at his navel. Cathy had to move to his side to get better access.
Having already sucked one cock, Cathy was now in a more playful mood. She made a show of circling Eddy's cock head with her tongue and giving it a few flicks before she trailed his length all the way to his balls. The fact that this cock was bent did not cause Cathy any problems. She accommodated his full length in her throat and brought it to boiling point just as efficiently as she had done with Tim's cock.
As had been the case with Tim, Cathy released Eddy's cock from her mouth as it started to shoot its load and directed the flow towards her face. Big blobs of spunk landed on her forehead, some of it stuck to her eyebrows, some of it dripped down her nose or into her eyes.
Hank was unpacked and dispatched just as quickly and efficiently as the other two. He groaned as he added his contribution to the rapidly growing collection of cum on Cathy's face.
There was no need to unpack Bill's cock. He had already removed his trousers in eager anticipation. His cock stood proud like a soldier, saluting Cathy at her long awaited arrival. Cathy treated it with the same mixture of reverence and disrespect she had demonstrated for its predecessors.
Bill had watched every move of Cathy's mouth intently. He had witnessed how the expression on the faces of three of his friends had changed from sweet agony to joyful bliss as they sprayed Cathy's face with their juices. The scenes which had passed before his eyes left him in such a state of excitement, he was barely able to control himself. Bill lost whatever control he had as soon as Cathy's lips touched his prick. He squirted his cum against Cathy's chin, on her lips and into her nostrils. It seemed like Cathy's special treat had turned into a competition of who could make the biggest mess of Cathy's face.
To say that watching what Cathy did to my friends and what they did to her was not without effect on me, would be the understatement of the year, possibly of the century. I had never witnessed anything as excitingly sleazy as this. My cock was straining to be released.
I was in a great hurry to be alone with Cathy. I bundled my friends out the door, ignoring their thanks for an exciting evening. When I returned, Cathy was still kneeling on the floor, jizz dripping off her cum-glazed face, down her chin and onto her magnificent breasts.
"Who's next?" she called invitingly towards me.
'Disgusting slut, debased character, sick pervert, depraved whore, filthy trollop, defiler of nature, outcast of society, scum of the earth,' were the terms which passed through my mind as I saw my wife kneeling there, waiting for me to put my cock into her licentious mouth. None of these words was strong enough to describe the image of this lewd woman in front of me.
But I wasn't in the mood nor in a position to pass judgment over other people. I was horny as hell and this filthy woman was the most exciting creature I had ever met. I picked Cathy up from the floor and embraced her. I kissed her cum-coated lips, her cheeks, her eyes, her forehead. Slowly but thoroughly I performed the task of licking my friends' spunk off my wife's face, her chin, her neck, her tits.
Did this make me a slut? Well, no. That word is reserved for women. Then what do you call a man who watches his wife suck four other men and then licks their cum off her? I didn't know and I didn't care. Whatever the word was, it - like the words which had just passed through my mind in relation to Cathy - belonged in a world I had left behind. The world I found myself in now, was free from those moralistic value judgments. The only thing that mattered was to achieve the maximum sexual pleasure by any possible means.
When I had finished cleaning Cathy, I took her into my arms, picked her up and carried her up the stairs. I deposited her on our bed, took off my clothes and fucked her - boy, did I fuck her! I drove my cock into her seething hot, dripping wet cunt and fucked her as if my life depended on it. I pounded my hard rod into her, relentlessly, from every imaginable angle, oblivious to the ebb and flow of Cathy's orgasms.
When I finally decided it was time to come - yes, I was able to make that decision rather than having my cock decide for me - I pulled out of her moist enclosure and sprayed her with my cum. But this time, I didn't lick my sperm off her. This time I spread it evenly over her entire body. This time I rubbed it into her skin until there was no visible trace of my spunk left. Then I took Cathy into my arms, ready for a much needed rest.
'Cathy belongs to me,' it suddenly struck me. I had never been the possessive type. Getting married hadn't been my preferred course of action, because I had been worried that this idea of belonging to each other might spoil our good relationship. But at this moment, I had no doubt: Cathy was mine. No matter how many cocks she sucked, no matter how many men possessed her, she was mine. I had marked her with my seed, I had rubbed it into her skin. Nothing could remove my mark from her. She was mine for ever.