“Wait,” Tracy whispered, grabbing Sloan’s hand just as it slipped in her panties. “Not here. Not now.” She tried to keep him from touching her pussy, but it was too late. His index finger slid down over the sensitive bud of her clit and curled into wet flesh.
Sloan chuckled. “Why, Tracy Sanders, you little blonde Barbie Doll slut! Your big blue eyes look so innocent, but your pussy is dripping like melted butter. Watching porn must have turned you on.”
They were sitting in a club chair in the entertainment room of the Tri-X fraternity house, where half a dozen other couples were making out, occupying similar chairs or sharing space on a pair of leather couches. The furniture was arranged around a large carpet-covered table, six feet in diameter and a couple of feet high.
Tracy was cuddling next to Sloan, her cheek on his shoulder. He had one hand under her T-shirt, which was imprinted with the message “yes, they’re real and they’re spectacular!” His other hand was inside her panties, exploring her wet pussy.
“You’re sure you want me to do this? If I start, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.” Jordan sits on the bed next to mine, absentmindedly rolling and unrolling the black silk scarf that will be my blindfold. I am completely naked. She is wearing white cotton panties and a plain white bra, a strangely conservative set of lingerie for what we have planned, and very different from the tiny thongs and lacy bras she has recently favored.
“I do!” I say, with more eagerness than I really feel. “Do anything you want, short of physical pain. Tickle me, tease me, torture me. Go wild! I’m ready for it!”
I might as well be ready for it. I’m already tied to one of the hotel room’s double beds, my hands stretched wide to each side, my legs spread apart. Jordan had selected the soft cotton rope herself, cut it into four pieces and tied the knots securing me to the bed railing.
“You’re sure?” Jordan looks at me steadily.
“No backing out once we start?”
“No backing out.”
“No recriminations, no matter what I do?”
“None at all.
“And anything goes?”
“Except physical pain. Beyond that, anything goes.”
“All right then.” Jordan stands up and quickly slides her panties off. I stare in amazement at her pussy, which for the first time in our marriage she has shaved completely bald. She glances toward me with a grin, then spreads her legs. “You like?” she asks. Her pussy lips are swollen and glistening with arousal. Somehow the white cotton bra she is still wearing makes her nakedness even more erotic. She uses her fingertips to spread her pussy lips apart, leaning down to examine herself.
“Jesus, look how wet I am. It’s dripping down my legs.”
I look at the glistening rivulets of Jordan’s juices sliding down the inside of her thighs, then watch as she slips her left index finger into her slit and lifts it to her mouth. She slides it seductively into the oval of her lips, then licks her finger clean and smiles. “Maybe I’ll let you taste my nectar later,” she says. “Nectar” is a euphemism I’ve never used for pussy juice, and I stare at her shaved pussy, wondering where she heard it. A tiny knot forms in my stomach as she picks up the blindfold and steps toward the bed. “I think you’ve seen enough,” she says. “For now.” Just before she slips the blindfold over my eyes, she gives me a wicked smile. She doesn’t need thigh-high boots or a leather corset to let me know she’s in control.
I lift my head so Jordan can tie the blindfold, which she does, tightly. Being in the dark and helplessly bound is slightly disturbing but also extremely arousing. It will be interesting to discover what kind of sexual adventure my wife has in store for me. I become erect, a signal to Jordan that perhaps I actually do want to do this.
I’d known for some time that I needed to rekindle the spark in our sex life. Although Jordan was a willing partner, and never refused me, I knew that after five years of marriage she had begun to get bored with our usual routine.
The first indication that something was amiss had come a few months earlier, when out of the blue Jordan suggested we watch some porn. “Just to spice things up a bit,” she’d said. “Gloria Patterson said she and her husband watch X-rated videos all the time,” she continued. “She said the videos turn him on so much he just about fucks her brains out after they watch one!”
Gloria Patterson was a hot 20-something blonde Jordan had met at the gym. I’d only seen her a couple of times, but I could imagine fucking her brains out without having to resort to watching porn first. I didn’t reveal as much to Jordan, but I did tell her that watching a raunchy video might be fun, and that I would pick one up the next Saturday afternoon.
“No,” Jordan said, to my surprise. “I want to pick one out myself.”
I found it amazing that my wife would actually visit a porn shop and buy a video, but not nearly as amazing as the DVD she brought home. Slut in Charge would have been my last guess for a film Jordan might enjoy. But there was no doubt, as we lay naked in bed watching the film, that Jordan was enjoying it.
As the corseted slut on the screen handcuffed her boy toy’s hands to the railings of a brass bed, I glanced over at Jordan. She was staring intently at the TV, her mouth half open, her breath shallow. She was fondling a nipple with one hand while she stroked her pussy with the other. I saw her eyes widen, and I looked back at the screen. The slut had straddled her handcuffed lover and was holding his dick upright, ready to slide down over it.
“Jesus,” Jordan declared in a half whisper. “Look at the size of that guy’s dick!” I found her comment a bit deflating, but had to admit the guy had an impressive piece of equipment. It took the dominatrix a couple of minutes to wiggle her pussy down over the thick 9 or 10 inches of cock, and by the time she had it all in her cunt, Jordan had three fingers in her pussy and was squeezing her nipple hard.
“I can’t imagine getting fucked with a cock that big,” Jordan said, frigging herself faster and faster as she watched the slut slide up and down on her submissive partner. But from what I could tell from my wife’s busy fingers and her rapt attention to the on-screen action, getting fucked with a 10-inch cock was exactly what she was imagining.
Slut in Charge was followed by several more X-rated DVDs, all selected by Jordan, and most having something to do with domineering women and submissive men. I had to admit the videos dialed up the heat of our sex life, getting me aroused because Jordan would get so turned on, especially when one of more of the actors involved had a big dick.
As Jordan became more sexually aggressive in the bedroom, she also began to dress much more provocatively. Her skirts were now four or five inches above her knees, and her tops were either molded skintight over her perfect 34Cs, or cut low enough to show plenty of d colletage. She also began to wear tiny thongs, and bras that cupped her breasts while still managing to show off her pink nipples.
While I enjoyed my wife’s new sexier appearance, I was a bit concerned about the flirtatious attitude that came with it. If she could casually flirt with other men while I was around, I could only imagine how she acted with her male coworkers at the office.
Then one evening during supper she mentioned that the girls in the office were whispering that her new boss, a recently transferred V. P., was rumored to be endowed with a porn-star-sized cock. “He’s also apparently ready to share it with anyone wearing a skirt,” Jordan said. “And already has, with that slut Becky Carter in accounting. Now she keeps a ruler on her desk with a piece of red tape at the 10-inch mark.”
“Maybe you should start wearing pants to work,” I suggested, not entirely facetiously. The coy smile that Jordan gave me was not a response that brought me any comfort. It was then I realized that I would have to be proactive to get my wife’s attention refocused on me. I knew that if her itch for sexual excitement hadn’t already caused her to stray, it soon might.
My suggestion to that we try a little B D ourselves, with the emphasis on the B, was met with more enthusiasm than I’d hoped for. By the time I’d convinced her that I actually welcomed being submissive and wanted to role play as her sex slave, she was already making plans.
“I want to go to a hotel,” she said. “This has to be special. Not part of our normal life at home. And I want to choose the hotel. Someplace across town.”
“Fair enough,” I agreed, surprised at how eager she seemed.
“And I want to tie you up. And blindfold you too.”
I grinned, “And just what do you plan to do with me, all tied up and blindfolded?”
“That,” Jordan said, “is something you’ll have to wait and find out.”
Now, lying spread eagle on the bed, restrained and in the dark, I am both excited about what will happen and uncomfortably aware that my wife’s domme tendencies are a wrist restraint beyond being latent.
I hear Jordan unzipping her overnight bag her “bag of tricks,” she’d called it. There is a short ripping sound and my mouth is suddenly covered with tape. I’m muffled before I can protest, left mumbling behind the sticky surface of the tape. I hadn’t expected this. But then, unexpected surprises are part of the dominatrix’s repertoire. And I can’t object even if I were able to, since I’d agreed to go along with anything short of physical pain. I try to relax. I apparently won’t be expected to eat my wife’s pussy. I wonder what’s next, and feel my erection grow harder in anticipation.
I feel Jordan move toward the corner of the bed, and suddenly my fingers are touching the smooth juicy flesh of her shaved pussy. She cocks her hips forward, and I slide two fingers deep into her cunt. With my wrists bound I can barely move my hands, but my fingers are free to feel her pussy, to rub her clit if she offers it to me.
“Do you like my new look, lover? Do you like me all smooth and slick and wet?”
I nod my head yes, my fingers groping, sliding into her as much as she will allow.
“You know,” she whispers, “with my pussy this wet I could probably take a really big cock. A huge cock. Would you like to see that, sugar? See your wife get fucked with a ten-inch cock?”
I’m not sure how to respond, but my sustained erection makes it pretty clear I’m not turned off by the idea.
Jordan’s pussy moves away from my touch, and I feel the bed move as she crawls between my legs. She reaches out and touches my hard-on with one finger, moving it back and forth. “I think you like the idea of watching me get fucked with a great big dick, don’t you? Maybe I’ll just have to arrange for that to happen.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing, but can’t deny I’m still as hard as a rock. I seem to get even harder as Jordan continues. “My boss is supposed to have a big cock. I’ll bet he would love to fuck my hot pussy.”
I have no doubt Jordan is right. I just hope she hasn’t already collected empirical evidence to prove it.
I feel Jordan lean forward. Her breath warms my penis half a second before she takes me into her mouth, and then I’m deep in her throat, my cock slick with saliva. Momentarily, my worries about other men are abandoned.
Spittle lubricates the inside of Jordan’s mouth as she slides up and down and back and forth, catching my cockhead in one cheek and then the other before she takes it deep into her throat again. She knows she is good at this, and goes about it noisily, like a greedy kid sucking a Popsicle. I relax with a silent sigh, knowing she can keep it up forever, can keep me right on the edge of orgasm without letting me slide over.
Suddenly my wet cock is cool again, drying in the air-conditioned air. Jordan gives my balls a gentle squeeze, then rises from the bed. “On the other hand,” she says, “Maybe letting you watch wouldn’t be such a good idea. You might get your feelings hurt if you see how much I like a big cock. I guess I could let you listen, though.”
I feel a cool draft over my body, and then one of the bedsheets we had previously stripped off settles down over me, covering me completely. I turn my head back and forth beneath the sheet, but I remain completely covered. Then I hear a faint click, followed by another, as if the hotel room door has opened and closed.
What the hell is this about? And what did she mean by saying she might let me listen? There are rustling sounds, and then Jordan lets out a soft sigh. There’s more rustling, the sound of fabric moving over fabric. Then with a click the nightstand radio comes on. Jordan adjusts the dial until she finds a station playing romantic music.
Over the music I can hear more faint sounds of fabric against fabric, and then a zipper. Someone’s clothes are evidently coming off. Then there is a sudden sharp intake of breath, followed by another sigh. Then the unmistakable sound of another person, a man, breathing.
I struggle against my restrains, lifting my head under the sheet, trying to indicate that I want the damn blindfold off, just for a minute. But no one is listening.
Now there is no mistaking the sound in the room. Even though the radio music is loud, I can hear two people breathing, sighing, then the sound of wet slurping. It’s the exact sound my wife’s mouth makes around a cock, but the cock isn’t mine! My erection shrinks and I feel like I want to scream. This can’t be possible! She would never do this! But it’s happening, not five feet away.
I listen in silent horror for what seems like an eternity. Then the sounds change. Now it is obvious that Jordan and whoever else is in the room are fucking. Within minutes my wife’s breathless whimpers become moans, and then she climaxes. My heart wants to explode from my chest as her familiar cry of ecstasy fills the room. This can’t be happening! “Anything goes” doesn’t include this! In another moment I hear the man climax as well, grunting like an animal as he ejaculates. Finally the music from the radio is accompanied only by the sound of their heavy breathing.
Clothes rustle, fabric on fabric, fabric on skin. A light switch. The shower turned on, adjusted. Someone showering. Two people together? More clothes rustling, then the hotel door clicks open and closes quickly. I raise my head, wanting to see, but I am blind. Blind and silent.
Jordan makes me wait. Half an hour, an hour, I can’t tell. Finally she comes to the bed and strips the sheet from my body. Then she pushes the blindfold up to my forehead. I expect to be blinded by the light, but it is almost dark in the room. Jordan is wearing a white terry bathrobe with the hotel logo on the pocket. She’s barefoot, her hair is wet. She smiles at me, the cat who swallowed the canary. And another man’s dick.
I can only talk to her with my eyes. I furrow my brow, silently asking what the fuck is going on. Jordan points to the adjacent double bed. The bed is made, unruffled. In the middle of the satin spread sits our cassette tape recorder. She reaches over and presses the rewind button. The tape screeches back for a minute then Jordan pushes play. There is the sound of clothes rustling. Sighs and heavy breathing. Jordan turns off the nightstand radio. The music has camouflaged the mechanical sound of the tape recorder. I can now hear the tape clearly, spinning out the sound of Jordan giving someone a wet, slurpy blowjob, then the sound of them fucking. A masculine grunt drowns out my wife’s moans.
“That’s you,” Jordan says. “I recorded us in bed a few days ago. After you suggested playing this little game of B D.” I glance at the recorder, then back at Jordan. She smiles wickedly. “Did you think I was fucking another man? Someone with a big dick? Did it make you feel tortured enough? Isn’t that what the game’s about? For you to be tied up and tortured?”
I listen to the tape, to me fucking my wife. Is that what I really sound like? I can’t tell. Hearing yourself on tape sounds strange. Do I grunt and breathe like that? Are these the same sounds I heard an hour ago? It’s impossible to know for sure. I suddenly feel disconnected from reality.
Jordan unties my ankles, then my wrists. She lets me remove the tape from my mouth. The recorder plays the fucking soundtrack through to Jordan’s climax, and then mine.
My wife giggles, full of herself for the exquisite trick she’s pulled on me. She reaches out to stop the recorder.
Just before she clicks it off, I hear the faint sound of a distant freight train on the tape. It’s a sound that could not possibly be heard or recorded from our bedroom at home. I glance at Jordan. She looks back at me, the smile on her lips as faint as the fading whistle of the locomotive.
“So would you like to fuck me now?” Jordan lets the terry robe slip from her shoulders and slide to the floor. I stare at her smoothly shaved pussy. She is incredibly sexy, especially naked. She grins. “Isn’t that how these adventures are supposed to end? With you fucking my brains out?”
I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, picking tiny remnants of adhesive from my lips. I thought my erection was history, but in spite of myself I’m becoming hard again. I lean back, resting on my elbows. Jordan kneels between my legs, still smiling as she leans forward to suck me into her mouth. Just before her lips close around my dick she looks up at me. She’s still smiling but her expression is determined, resolute.
“You know, I enjoyed this very much. So much that I think we should plan on doing something like it again. Soon.”
I stare back at her, knowing I will go along with whatever she wants. She is in control, and anything goes. Faintly in the distance, I hear the long, melancholy wail of a passing freight train.
Julia made her way through the crowded room, skirting the small dance floor as she angled toward the bar and the drink that would give her the courage to continue. Twenty or so couples in various stages of undress were grinding against each other to the throbbing soundtrack, their suggestive movements more like vertical fucking than dancing.
It seemed that every man Julia passed eyed her from head to toe with lecherous intent. Which she found exciting but surprising, since every other woman in the room seemed twice as sexy as she felt.
Most of the women wore sheer see-through gowns, more like negligees than dresses, or slinky little slip dresses with nothing on underneath. Cleavage and nipples were visible everywhere. Her own outfit, she thought, was more suitable for a PTA meeting than a night at a sex club, although she had tried to sex it up by wearing her shortest skirt and highest stiletto heels. She had also shaved her pussy bare and was braless under her white silk blouse. At 35 her breasts were still full and firm, and she had unbuttoned her blouse halfway down to show them off.
If she had found her husband’s note a day earlier, she could have put together a more appropriate outfit. As it was, she’d had to make do with the clothes in her closet.
At the bar Julia picked up a flute of champagne from a waiting tray. She took a sip, then quickly downed the entire glass. The bartender took the empty glass and smiled sexily as he handed her a full one. Julia blushed and forced herself to sip more slowly.
The bartender was young, perhaps 10 years her junior, and very hot. He was wearing white wrist cuffs and a black bow tie, and a pair of tight black pants that revealed a very impressive bulge. When Julia looked up again she realized he was aware she had been looking at his crotch.
“My name is Matt,” he said with a grin. “My shift ends in half an hour and I’ve got some free time before my next gig. If you’re still interested, perhaps I could show you around.”
“Thanks, but I’m meeting someone,” Julia said. “Can you tell me where to find the Blue Room?”
Matt smiled knowingly. “It’s on the third floor. But take your time getting there. There’s a lot to see and do on the way up.”
“Thanks,” Julia said, glancing at her watch.
“Just go with the flow,” Matt said. “And remember, you never have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“I’ll remember that,” Julia said as she turned and walked toward the staircase.
The club was more crowded now, with couples openly kissing and fondling each other. A couple of women on the dance floor were topless, and another wore only a tiny sequined thong. Julia couldn’t help being turned on by the blatant sexuality surrounding her. By the time she reached the second floor landing the crotch of her thong was growing damp.
On the landing Julia saw a small crowd gathered at an open doorway. Inside the room a buxom blonde lay on a low platform. She was naked, her legs wide apart. A very petite woman with small breasts and short dark hair knelt between the blonde’s legs.
As Julia watched, the brunette picked up a long blue double-ended dildo. As the woman began to work one end of the flexible dildo into her partner’s glistening pussy, the blonde moaned softly.
The brunette pushed six or seven inches of the dildo into the blonde, then lay back and began working the other end into her own cunt. Her breath came in short gasps as she inched her bottom forward, taking more and more of the double-headed cock inside. Finally, there were only inches of blue silicone showing between the two women, who each had at least ten inches of the shared cock in their cunts. As they began to fuck each other, Julia, now very aroused, turned and made her way up the staircase toward the third floor and the Blue Room.
She wasn’t sure what adventure the evening had in store. She hadn’t considered how sensual or erotic it might be, but now that she was here, surrounded by so much open sexual activity, those thoughts couldn’t be ignored. Indeed, the whole point of coming to a sex club was to seek out sexual pleasure. Where that pleasure might be found, she had no idea. At the moment she was simply responding to her husband’s cryptic note: “Rendezvous in the Blue Room Satyr’s, 11 p.m. Sat. “
Eric had suggested several times that they visit Satyr’s, the city’s premier up-scale sex club. Although Julia had refused each suggestion, she secretly found the thought of sex with another man exciting. She sometimes even fantasized about it. But marriage meant faithfulness and monogamy. Actually fucking someone else would be breaking vows she held sacred. And even though Eric had suggested they could go “just to look,” she knew him, and herself, well enough to know that looking could easily lead to joining in.
It upset Julia that Eric had been so insistent about visiting the club, calling her a prude with a locked-up libido. He should know from their own sex life that she was not a prude in the bedroom. And deep down she knew that if her inhibitions ever were unleashed, her husband might regret jiggling around with the lock on her libido. But tonight, finally, Eric just might get his wish.
As Julia climbed the stairs to the third floor, she passed half a dozen couples engaged in various sexual acts. Each salacious scene turned her on even more, and when she finally reached the door marked “Blue Room,” her pussy was throbbing with desire.
She glanced at her watch, noting that it read 11:30. Hesitating just a moment, she took a deep breath and stepped through the doorway into the darkness. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light she realized the Blue Room was a theater. A six-level tier of wide carpeted benches filled the room, providing seating for an audience which looked down onto a stage with a raised dais in the center. A sensually rhythmic African drumbeat poured from overhead speakers. For a moment she felt slightly off-balance, then realized that the dais on the stage below, about ten feet in diameter and three feet high, was slowly revolving.
As her eyes adjusted to the dim light she could see a dozen or more couples sitting or reclining on the carpeted benches as they watched the show on the revolving stage. Several of the men had their hands inside what little clothing the women wore, fondling their breasts or playing with their pussies. She could see at least two women leaning over to suck their partners’ cocks.
Julia wanted to search the audience to see if Eric was there, but she had become mesmerized by the scene on the stage. On the raised dais was a disheveled blonde dressed like Fay Wray in the original King Kong movie. She was standing with her arms outstretched, her hands apparently tied to a framework of posts. The woman’s eyes were closed, her head back as she moaned in sexual pleasure. Julia stared in fascination as the revolving stage finally revealed the reason for the woman’s moans of ecstasy.
The “captive” blonde was being fucked from behind by a muscular black man who wore nothing but beaded wrist and ankle bracelets and a lion’s-claw necklace. The man, who was covered with glistening oil and beads of his own perspiration, had pushed the woman’s dress up to her waist and was holding her naked hips tightly as he fucked her, his thrusts matching the steady rhythm of the African drums.
Julia watched intently as the black man fucked the blonde, amazed at his stamina and power. As the stage revolved to reveal the man completely, she could see the thick muscles of his legs bulge and the cheeks of his naked ass hollow each time he shoved into the blonde beauty. As the dais turned back around so that the blonde was facing Julia again, the woman screamed in orgasm. The loosely wrapped ropes fell away from her outstretched wrists as she fell forward, crying “Yes! Oh God! Yes! Now! Now!”
The black man gripped her waist, keeping her from falling as her hips bucked and jerked in the throes of her climax. Finally her spasms subsided and he let her slide gently to the carpeted floor of the stage. As she slid down, still trembling from her orgasm, Julia saw with amazement that the black man’s cock was huge, at least a foot long, and still as stiff as the post the captive had been tied to.
The scene on stage aroused Julia so much that she wanted to slide her fingers into her panties and play with herself, but she held back. There would be plenty of time for such pleasure later. Right now she had to see if she could find her husband.
As the black man cradled the still trembling woman in his arms and carried her offstage, the stage lights dimmed and the house lights came up. Julia immediately recognized Eric, sitting on the second tier of benches, his back to her and his concentration focused on the stage. There was little chance that he would see her. Besides, he was much too busy fondling the oversized, silicone-enhanced tits of Megan, his slut of a secretary.
“I knew it, you son of a bitch,” Julia murmured, sitting down on the top tier. She had known for five or six months that Eric was cheating on her, and was pretty sure it was with the double-D bimbo who had been his “personal assistant” for the past year. There had been too many nights working late or weekend “business trips” out of town.
Then just that afternoon she’d found his note about meeting at Satyr’s, in a sport coat she was taking to the cleaners. At first she thought it was for her one more attempt by Eric to coax her to the club. Then she saw the response scrawled in a feminine hand at the bottom: “I’ll be there, hot and horny! Xoxox! “
With no clue as to how things might play out, Julia had decided on the spur of the moment that this would be the perfect opportunity to catch the cheating bastard with his pants down. She wasn’t sure how she would confront him with his infidelity, but she would make damn sure he would regret it. Now, leaning forward, she peeked around the two couples between her and Eric. The bastard’s pants weren’t exactly down, but his fly was open and his dick was out, with Megan sucking it like the slut she was.
Suddenly the stage lights came up, and Julia saw that the raised dais was now decorated like an idyllic forest glade. A low padded bench sat on the dais, surrounded by colorful flowers and hanging vines. An announcer stepped out of the backstage alcove and addressed the audience. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. It’s time for our midnight show. As always, we need a willing female volunteer. Tonight we will be presenting ‘The Satyr’s Garden of Delight.’ So who wants to be our sexy wood nymph?” The announcer paused, gazing around the audience. “Ladies,” he continued, “isn’t there a single exhibitionist among all you voyeurs?”
The man to Julia’s right was whispering to his partner, urging her to volunteer. The woman giggled, declining half-heartedly.
“Gentlemen,” the announcer said, “wouldn’t you like to see your lady enjoying all the sexual pleasure she deserves?” He scanned the audience. “I’m sure you’ll agree that our volunteer ‘captive’ enjoyed her time with our resident Kong. I know we can guarantee just as much pleasure for our nymph!”
The woman on Julia’s right was just about to give in to her partner’s coaxing when Julia abruptly stood. Taking a deep breath to brace herself, she stepped toward the stage. As she passed the tier where Eric and Megan sat, she paused, then took off her wedding ring and dropped it in Eric’s lap. Without looking back she continued on to the stage. The announcer immediately took her hand. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “we have a lovely volunteer for our next performance, which will begin in a few minutes.” With a smile he led Julia backstage.
Ten minutes later the stage lights brightened and the house lights dimmed as Julia stepped nervously back onto the stage. Following the announcer’s instructions, she walked directly to the bench and sat down facing the audience. As they spectators applauded her entrance she could see only the shadowy silhouettes of the couples ranged around her, making it impossible to identify Eric and Megan. But she knew they could see her.
Julia was now naked except for a gossamer toga, which completely revealed the fullness of her breasts and her dark pink nipples. Her shaved pussy was also visible, and was now even wetter than before. To complete her costume, the announcer had fastened a ring of flowers in her hair.
As she sat there on the bench, lyrical orchestral music filled the room. Then suddenly a spotlight illuminated another figure a few feet away a young, well-built man dressed very convincingly as a satyr. Woolly hair covered his legs and hips, and short goat-like horns were fastened to his head. When he stepped toward her, she realized that the hard-bodied satyr was Matt, the bartender she’d met earlier. He smiled suggestively as he looked up at him, and began to play on an imaginary set of pipes, as if he were the Greek god Pan.
As Matt moved toward her Julia saw that the hair of his satyr’s costume covered only the outsides of his legs, leaving his inner thighs and crotch completely bare. Her eyes widened as he came closer. The man’s erect cock was at least 10 inches long, and heavily gnarled with veins and blood vessels below its plum-shaped head.
The dais had begun to revolve while the satyr danced toward her, and Julia lost all connection with the audience. She had no clue where her husband and his round-heeled, mattress-back secretary were, and didn’t care. The only thing in her mind at the moment was that she had insanely volunteered to get fucked by a satyr with a 10-inch dick in front of a live audience. And even though she was scared enough to pee in her panties, if she’d been wearing panties, she was also intensely aroused and looking forward to getting royally fucked.
Matt had now moved to the back of the bench and was reaching over her shoulders, caressing her breasts and pinching her nipples. Leaning forward, he put his lips to her ear. “Just relax. I know you’ll enjoy this. Just go with the flow, okay?”
Julia turned her head slightly to whisper, “I’ll try,” and Matt was suddenly kissing her, his tongue probing deep into the wet recesses of her mouth. The kiss had been unexpected and it somehow helped her relax, even as it turned her on.
As Matt continued the kiss he pushed Julia sideways until she was lying back on the bench, her bare feet on the floor on either side of the padded surface. Matt moved to the end of the bench between her legs and lifted the gossamer toga, then began to slowly lick the wet lips of her pussy. “Ohh my God!” Julia moaned, reaching down to hold his head tighter against her cunt.
Lying on her back on the bench, Julia was staring directly up at the bright spotlight that lit the stage. At this moment nothing existed for her except the bright light in her eyes and the young satyr’s tongue in her pussy. Then her pussy was suddenly abandoned, and she was left humping her pelvis and her wet slit against empty air. Her disappointment lasted only for the duration of a whimper, and then Matt was holding her thighs and lifting her hips, straddling the bench as he inched forward to bury his thick cock in her cunt. As he slid in up to his balls, Julia closed her eyes and moaned in ecstasy.
As the dais slowly revolved, Matt fucked her and she fucked him in return, grinding her pussy against his groin to take him as deep as possible.
Suddenly she was climaxing, falling into an orgasmic bliss brighter and hotter than the spotlights overhead. She came in urgent squeezing convulsions, screaming as her calves locked over her satyr’s woolly legs and butt, drawing him deeper as she lost herself In the most intense orgasm of her life.
Matt waited until her trembling stopped, then lifted himself off the bench and began to help her up.
For a moment she thought it was over. But now Matt was lying back on the bench and she was straddling him, sliding down over his cock until he was in her again, thick and deep.
As she rode him, Matt pulled her toward his chest and stripped off her toga, letting her bare breasts slide over his oily, sweaty chest. With one hand he pulled her head down to whisper in her ear, “Did you enjoy your orgasm?”
“God yes,” Julia whispered back. “It was incredible!”
“Wanna have another?”
Julia hesitated just a moment, then she answered. “Yes. I want it all!”
Matt smiled up at her, then raised a hand and motioned to someone backstage. Julia glanced warily over her shoulder and saw a black muscular figure step onto the stage with a big smile. All he wore was a lion’s-claw necklace and a massive erection.
Julia looked back at Matt, who was grinning up at her. “Oh god,” she whispered as Kong’s hands cupped her ass, massaging the round globes as his fingers slid down to play with her asshole.
Julia felt the cool slickness of lubricant, then a thick finger slid into her ass. She gasped at the unexpected sensation, even as a second finger joined the first. Then he was pressing the head of his cock against the entrance to her ass, and she knew she was about to experience an even more intense and unfamiliar sensation.
Julia’s moan began in apprehension and ended in a long whimper of sexual pleasure. The unexpected arousal brought on by the feeling of two large cocks fucking her at the same time, separated only by the thin membrane between her ass and cunt, was almost more than she could stand. By the time Kong had slid his massive cock all the way into her backside, and out, and back in again, she was climaxing. The orgasm was another mind-blowing, out-of-body experience, even more ecstatic than her first climax. This time she screamed in ecstasy, her body jerking in uncontrollable rapture and as her climax subsided she knew she would let these men fuck her all night, in her cunt, her ass, her mouth, or any way they wished.
Julia wasn’t sure when the announcer joined the erotic tableau, but at some point she realized she had his cock in her mouth. In fact she now had cocks in her mouth, ass and cunt, all at the same time. Abandoning herself to the salacious enjoyment of her debauchery, she came over and over again, and still wanted more.
As the stage revolved slowly in front of the audience, Julia had brief moments of lucidity in which she wondered if Eric was still out there watching, and if so, what he could possibly be thinking. Not that it mattered. Nothing Eric thought mattered any more. At this moment all that mattered was the men, and the hands and lips and cocks that were sending her spiraling into an abyss of white-hot ecstasy.
At one point she was on her back on the bench with the announcer’s cock in her pussy when Matt moved up behind her head, angling his cock down so she could take it into her mouth. As he slid more and more of it past her lips, she tilted her head and opened her mouth wider, letting it slide all the way into her throat. When his balls came to rest on her nose, she reached back and grabbed his woolly hips, holding tightly as she laved his hard shaft with her tongue.
After only a moment she felt the wrinkled sac of his testicles contract and she knew he was ready to come. She was eager for him to shoot in her mouth, but he pulled back, holding his cock just beyond her lips. She looked up and saw his satyr-horned face grinning down at her. “Keep your mouth open,” he said. “I want to give you a satyr facial.” Julia opened her mouth wide and extended her tongue as far as possible. Almost immediately Matt began to come, splattering her cheeks and chin and tongue with ropey blobs of thick ejaculate.
Before Julia could lick the come from her cheeks and chin the announcer was climaxing, filling her well-fucked cunt with spurt after spurt of hot come. Then Kong, standing next to her stroking his cock, also started coming, splattering her breasts and belly with what seemed like a quart of creamy semen.
Julia extended her tongue to lick the tip of Matt’s cock, then began to rub Kong’s come over her breasts and belly, reveling in how wanton and nasty she had become. Suddenly the room was filled with applause, and she looked out toward the audience. She could still see only shadowy silhouettes, but now, instead of a dozen or so couples, there were 40 or 50, all but one applauding her extraordinary performance of a nymph turned nympho.
The following Saturday night Julia was standing at the bar at Satyr’s, sipping champagne as she talked with Matt. This time she was wearing a sheer spaghetti-strap slip dress with no bra and a pair of crotchless lace panties. Her freshly shaved pussy lips were already puffy and aroused, extending through the open panty crotch a full inch or more. She was also wearing thigh-high stockings whose lace tops were not quite concealed by the hem of the dress, and a pair of fuck-me pumps with four-inch heels. It was an outfit that would have made Eric cream his pants, if he and his pants and everything else he owned hadn’t been squeezed into that skank Megan’s tiny garage apartment.
Matt handed Julia a second glass of champagne and raised a curious eyebrow. “So will you be in the Blue Room tonight?”
Julia took a sip and smiled seductively. “It depends,” she said. “Will you be asking for volunteers?”
Matt grinned. “Absolutely. At ten o’clock we need a schoolgirl for our ‘Teacher’s Pet’ performance. The costume is a plaid skirt, white knee socks and pigtails. At eleven we need a cowgirl for our ‘Rodeo Roundup.’ Sexy chaps and a Stetson. For the midnight finale we need a harem girl for ‘Ali Baba and the Seven Sheiks.’”
“Seven?” Julia giggled. “That sounds like a gang bang.”
“Sexual satisfaction guaranteed,” Matt said.
Julia felt her pussy begin to tingle as she thought of the previous Saturday night, and the potential thrills that lay ahead. As the warmth of arousal spread outward from her pussy, she saw someone across the room she wanted to meet. “See you at midnight,” she said, grinning as she turned away from the bar. Then she hurried through the crowd, eager to catch up to the petite brunette and her two-foot long blue silicone double-headed dildo.
Beth entered the bookstore and walked directly through the maze of racks and shelves toward a section in the back. She had finished her shift at the caf at 3:30 on the dot, but traffic was heavy, and now it was almost four. She didn’t have much time to spare, but she could at least get through one more chapter, maybe two. Halfway to her destination her mouth became dry, her palms moist.
At a small section in the back of the store she stopped, pretending to browse, perusing the titles. The section, marked “Untranslated Literature,” was the least shopped area in the store. Beth ran her fingers along the top row of books until she came to two large volumes. Checking to make sure no one was looking, she slipped a finger between the large books and pulled out a slim paperback. The book, turned spine inward to hide the title, was called The Instructor. The subtitle read: The Erotic Adventures of a Female Exhibitionist.
She’d discovered the book in the store’s Erotica section, but it would have been unthinkable for her to read the book there, just as it would have been unthinkable for her to buy it and bring it home.
At 19 Beth still lived with her parents, a zealously religious couple who thought women who wore bikinis at the beach were Satan’s sluts. If they caught her reading a book like The Instructor, there was no telling what they would do. Even her boyfriend Gerald, with whom she regularly sinned in the back seat of his Honda, would not understand her fascination with exhibitionism. Particularly when there was the added kink of compliance to male domination. Gerald’s most assertive moment was when he held the back of her head while he begged her to let him come in her mouth. She was sure he wouldn’t understand her erotic arousal at the thought of being instructed to expose herself. She didn’t even understand it herself. But even though she couldn’t explain it, the attraction had been strong enough to bring her back five days in a row to read the book.
Beth opened The Instructor to page 59, where she had stopped the day before. The adventure she had been reading involved a woman named Laura, who was following the instructions of her husband Jim.
. . .”Show him your tits,” Jim commanded. “Open your blouse.”
Jim was sitting directly behind me, leaning forward slightly as he gave me instructions. We were in one of the city’s last remaining porno theatres, a rundown dump with sticky, come-stained floors. The only other person in the theater was a Latino man in his 40s or 50s, sitting in the row in front of me, half a dozen seats to my left. I had entered the theater by myself, as instructed, and sat down directly in front of my husband. In the 15 minutes I’d been there I had following Jim’s instructions unbuttoned my blouse completely, lifted my skirt up around my waist, and slipped one hand down inside my panties to play with myself.
“Show him your tits,” Jim said again, a bit more forcefully.
I kept my eyes focused on the screen, but I knew the Latino man was staring at me over his shoulder. Using my free hand I pulled my blouse apart and arched my back slightly, letting my bare breasts come into view. My nipples, hard and erect, were tingling almost as much as the warm, wet flesh between my legs.
Beth felt a tingle in the warm, wet flesh between her own legs. She wanted to touch herself, to press the material of her waitress’s uniform against the thin cotton crotch that covered the dampening valley. But she dared not. She took a breath and returned her attention to Laura’s story.
On screen a platinum blonde was on her hands and knees, sucking one man’s cock while she was being fucked doggie-style by a second man. It was a grossly pornographic scene, but didn’t turn me on half as much as exposing my bare breasts to a stranger. My pussy was inflamed now and I needed no instructions to begin finger-fucking myself.
The man fucking the blonde’s mouth pulled back and began jacking himself off, pointing his cock at the woman’s wide-open mouth. With the second man still fucking her from behind, her mouth was a moving target, and I wondered if she would be able to catch the first man’s ejaculation or get a face full of come.
I glanced over to see if the Latino man was watching, and my heart stopped for a moment. The man was now standing, moving down the row I was in, toward me. He also had his cock out of his pants, massaging it with slow strokes as he came down the aisle. My heart began pounding, my mind racing, not knowing how far Jim would let our little game go. Would I have to suck this man’s cock? Between my legs, my pussy was on fire, dripping with arousal.
Beth could feel herself dripping as well. She couldn’t imagine Gerald asking her to expose herself to a stranger. And certainly not to suck a stranger’s cock. It was simply unthinkable. But the unthinkable was now generating an almost audible buzz between her legs, and she knew she would not be able to stay and read much more. In a few minutes, she would have to make an escape to her car, and home, and the privacy of her bedroom. If she could hold out that long.
She took another deep breath and turned the page, then nearly stopped breathing, gripping the paperback tightly.
A bright pink Post-It note with a handwritten message was stuck dead center in the middle of the right hand page. It read:
“Hello. If you like what is happening to Laura, then let’s play a game. But you have to follow the rules. If you want to play, turn to page 106.”
Beth could not believe what she was seeing. She glanced up quickly, turning to look in one direction, then the other. There were several customers in the store, but none of them were looking her way. Fumbling, nervous, she shoved the book back into its place, not bothering to hide the title. Then she hurriedly left the store.
That night she could barely sleep. It was entirely possible, she thought, that the note had been in the book for months, that it wasn’t intended for her at all. It didn’t matter anyway, because she certainly wasn’t going back to that bookstore.
The next day at work she was so nervous she mixed up six orders and spilled hot coffee all over a customer’s lap. At two o’clock her boss told her to go home before she cost him a lawsuit. On the way home she insisted to herself that she would avoid the bookstore. She kept insisting right up to the moment she pulled into the store’s parking lot.
As she made her way slowly toward the back of the store, Beth checked every customer and employee she saw. None of them gave any indication that she was of special interest. At the Untranslated Literature section she paused, looking. Her heart skipped a beat. Someone had removed the book and reinserted it, spine first. Beth removed it, looking over her shoulder first one way, then the other. No one was looking her way at all, as far as she could see. She flipped open the book. The note was still there, an invitation, a challenge, frightening but intensely intriguing. She thumbed through the pages to page 106. There was another note, short, concise:
“Go to the restroom and remove your bra and panties. Put them in your purse. Leave your uniform on. Then turn to page 175.”
Beth’s mouth felt like sandpaper. She was sure she was blushing as bright pink as the Post-It paper. Whoever had left the note knew she wore a uniform. The notes were definitely directed at her. She flipped through the book to page 175.
“Go to the Military History section. Find the last book on the top shelf, far right hand side. Page 16.”
Beth’s hands were shaking. She had often imagined being directed in some erotic exhibitionistic fantasy, and now her fantasy held the potential of becoming reality. But did she dare get involved with some bibliopervert who left notes in erotic books? She was in a totally public place, but just how far could she dare go?
Her hands still shaking, Beth began to look for the Military History section. It was tucked into a corner of the store, behind a large section of self-help and psychology books. She quickly saw the book indicated by the note, tucked in spine first at the end of the top shelf. She looked over her shoulder, then slipped the book from the rack. Its title was Ellen Exposed. The pink Post-It note on page 16 read:
“In the aisle between Military History and Art is a very private alcove. No one can see you but me. Go there, then turn to page 215.”
Beth stepped between the sections on art and military history and immediately discovered the alcove the writer of the note had mentioned. It was a small recess formed by the ends of two bookcases which did not quite meet. There was a small stool tucked into the back, but still enough space for her to slip in. There was only one aisle visible from there, and she could easily see anyone coming down that aisle before they saw her.
She moved into the alcove and started to turn to page 215, then stopped. Stepping out of the hiding place, she walked back up the main aisle to the restroom. When she came out, her bra and panties were in her purse.
Back in the hidden alcove, Beth looked around, trying to imagine where her instructor might be. There was no way to tell. He could be peeping at her through a crack between any number of shelves or racks. Or he might not be there at all. No specific day or time had been set, although he certainly knew she had been stopping by when she finished her shift at 3:30 each day. But today she was early. Perhaps he wasn’t here yet. Should she wait, she wondered, or go ahead?
Beth opened Ellen Exposed and flipped to page 215, her heart beating wildly in her chest. The note there simply read:
“Follow these instructions.”
There was an arrow pointing to a passage on the opposite page that read:
Adam sat back and watched Ellen make love to herself without ever removing her dress. Occasionally he caught a brief glimpse of bare thigh, or the pink flash of a nipple. But the eroticism of the experience lay in his knowledge of what her fingers were doing up under the hem of her skirt, and inside her half-unbuttoned blouse.
Beth took a deep breath. Her instructor was actually telling her to make love to herself, to masturbate, while he watched. It was something she had fantasized about doing for Gerald, although she was certain she would never actually go through with it. But to do that while a stranger watched! Could she even dare? She looked carefully in all directions from the narrow alcove. There was no one nearby, and little chance anyone would come her way. She moved back until her legs touched the little stool, and then sat down. Her uniform skirt automatically rode up. She hesitated just a moment, then pulled it up even more. With the book in her left hand, she slipped her right hand up under her skirt. The minute she touched herself she knew it wouldn’t take long. She was dripping wet, as sensitive as she’d ever been. As she continued to read, she slid first one, then two fingers into the slick, tingly channel of her sex, moving in and out of the wet slit, then up to inscribe tight circles over her clit. It was hard to concentrate but it felt amazing as she neared her climax, lost in passion.
After a moment, Adam’s eyes strayed from the undulations of Ellen’s hands and fingers beneath the material of her dress and remained fixed on her eyes. It was here he saw the burning eroticism of her arousal build, build into a roaring climax that consumed her completely, and then finally faded into smoldering, satisfied embers.
Beth finished the page, then set the book aside. She began using both her hands to pleasure herself, one under her skirt and one inside her unbuttoned blouse, squeezing her bare breasts, pinching her nipples almost to the point of pain. She wanted to close her eyes but dared not, in case someone did happen to walk into the aisle toward her hidden alcove.
Although it seemed to last forever, she made herself come in moments, a raging orgasm that set her hips jerking in erotic abandon. Biting her lip to keep from crying out, she pressed the palm of her hand hard against her throbbing clit as the sensations overwhelmed her.
Almost before the orgasmic aftershocks subsided, she was up and out of the store, heading to her car. She could not believe what she had done. She was damn lucky she hadn’t been caught. Christ, what had come over her? She would never go back in that bookstore again.
Finally she reached her car. “Damn,” she said aloud. She would have to go back into the store. In her haste to escape the scene of her depravity, she’d left her purse behind in the alcove. She turned and hurriedly retraced her steps.
She had been out of the store less than three minutes, but the purse was gone. She checked with the clerk at the front counter, but it hadn’t been turned in. The clerk directed her to main office at the back of the store. When she knocked on the door it was opened by a young man in his late 20s or early 30s. He was wearing a badge on a band around his neck that identified him as “Rob Baker, Store Manager.” As she entered, he smiled and said, “I’ll bet you’ve lost a purse, right?” Before she could answer, he held her purse out to her.
Beth was relieved, grateful her purse wasn’t stolen, but still unsettled by her exhibitionistic experience. “Thank you,” she finally managed to stammer. “Thank you very much.”
Once again she hurried out of the store to her car. As she opened her purse to get her car keys, she stopped abruptly. Tucked inside the purse, on top of her bra and panties, was The Instructor.
She looked back toward the store, worried that someone might think she was stealing the book. No one was coming after her, so she found her car keys and unlocked her car. Once inside, with the door locked, she finally felt safe.
She looked at the book again, wondering what she should do with it. She couldn’t take it home. Then she noticed the edge of a pink Post-It note sticking out from between the pages. Handwritten along the edge were the words:
Slowly and with shaking hands Beth opened the book to the place marked by the note.
The thought of being in this virtual stranger’s car was both frightening and arousing. As we turned onto the highway, I knew any chance to escape by leaping from the car had become slim. But I didn’t want to escape. I wanted to do exactly what the man asked me to do.
“Turn toward me,” he said. “And pull up your skirt.”
I did it immediately, leaning back against the car door, pulling my short skirt up around my waist. The leather seat felt cool, sensual against my bottom. Next he told me to take off my panties. They were on the floorboard, along with my shoes, before he had the words out of his mouth. I knew he could now see my wet slit and my puffy labia, could see the obscene extent of my arousal. I knew he was aroused as well, because I could see his erection through his pants. He saw me look. He smiled and then reached down to feel himself. Then he said, “Now look in the glove compartment.”
As I opened the glove box, I heard his zipper and knew he was taking out his cock. Just then another cock, thick and long, fell out of the glove box into my hands. It was molded in flesh-like silicone, as realistic as any cock I’d ever seen, only much bigger.
“Do I have to tell you what to do with that?” he asked.
“No, but I want you to. Instruct me. Tell me all the nasty things you want me to do.”
He smiled, then began to stroke his erection. “All right,” he said. “Let me see you shove that big dick in your hot, wet cunt.”
I propped one bare foot on the console, then raised the other to the dash, spreading my legs as wide as possible. I began working the huge cock into my pussy, glad I was so wet with my own juices. I started coming even before it was all the way in. As soon as I could catch my breath, he looked at me again and said, “I think you need to be naked.”
Beth wished she were naked herself. The touch of her uniform against her sensitive nipples and tingling pussy was almost too much to bear. She took a deep breath and glanced up. The breath caught in her throat and she felt herself turning scarlet. Parked just to her left was a black Volvo, and sitting in the driver’s seat was the store manager, Rob Baker. He motioned for her to roll down her window. After a moment she complied. He was very good looking and had a nice smile, something she really hadn’t noticed earlier.
“Would you like to go for a ride?” he asked.
Beth couldn’t speak. She clutched the book tightly.
“I think you’ll enjoy it,” Rob said. “So why don’t you join me.” His pleasant smile remained, but his voice became firm. “Now,” he said.
As Beth slid into the Volvo’s passenger seat, she didn’t bother to pull her skirt down. Rob pulled out of the parking lot and she glanced at the glove compartment, a gesture which made him laugh.
“Go ahead,” he said, “Open it.”
Beth took a deep breath and reached out to open the glove box. As she reached inside, she heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper being opened. Her hand closed around the thick rubber cock and she smiled, then leaned back, quietly waiting for further instructions.
How can life be so fuckin’ sweet one minute and squeeze you by the balls the next? What is that? Fate? Karma? Luck? I dunno. It’s a fuckin’ mystery.
Here I am sitting on my couch with my dick between the lips of the best cocksucker in town, and I’m about as big and hard as a fuckin’ Vienna sausage. The girl between my knees is Lois Roses, a leggy blonde with giant tits that have given her nothing but aggravation ever since she got them. Lois went a couple of cup sizes too far with the silicone, and her nipples got pushed in toward her cleavage. Now her tits look cross-eyed. For a lap dancer, cross-eyed nipples are a novelty you don’t need.
Lois tried to compensate for what she called her ‘disfigurement’ by having roses tattooed on her tits, more or less in the middle where her nipples should have been, but believe me, the distraction didn’t work. Anyway, she’s had my cock in a lip lock for half an hour but nothing is happening. I’m only half hard and nowhere close to a climax. This is worrying Lois, who sucks dick like a fuckin’ industrial Hoover. She once blew 11 guys in 26 minutes, and I know because I was number six. But this day her magic mouth just isn’t working.
Lois is a dancer at Lapland, the club owned by my boss, Louie Deuce, where we hang between assignments. She has come home with me after her late shift, and she has tried her best to bring me off, but I can’t quite get into it. Now she’s sitting back on her heels, her lower lip sticking out, bummed that she can’t get me off. I’m betting she’s more concerned about her pride than my pleasure, but I tell her not to worry, it’s not her fault. I don’t tell her whose fault it is.
It’s hard to believe that just a month ago I was as happy as a hooker at a hide-a-bed convention. I had just got an envelope from Louie with seventy large in it, which was a bonus for a scam I pulled at the state tax commission. All I did was use a little money and muscle to convince a prick license agent to recount the axles on our fleet of trucks. The reissued permits will save us close to half a mil in license fees, so Louie can afford to be generous with his thanks.
I spend half the cash on a silver Porsche Carrera Targa, which would have taken the whole wad if it still had serial numbers, and then I’m on my way to Gino Sangallo’s bachelor party, which will no doubt be the fuckin’ blowout of the year.
The party is in three adjoining suites at Gino’s uncle’s downtown hotel, and when I get there the festivities are in high gear. There are thirty or forty guys there, and a handful of dancers from Lapland. Gino’s uncle Leo has also imported a couple of stripper-slash-hookers from out of town to give the guys a taste of something new. The whole place is fuckin’ slammin’, but the main attraction seems to be in a bedroom off the middle suite. I get a drink and elbow my way to the doorway, where I’m hit with the heady aroma of sweat and sex.
“Holy shit!” I say. “Who the fuck is that?”
Bobby Checkers is standing next to me and answers without taking his eyes off the scene on the bed. “Don’t fuckin’ know,” he says. “She’s from out of town. But Goddam, can she fuck! She must have done ten guys already, and Leo said she isn’t even getting paid.”
The girl on the bed, sliding her cunt up and down on Vinnie Lodorico’s cock, looks to be about 19 or 20, with a body and face that make the other women at the party look like truck stop hookers. But looks aside, if there is a slut at the party, it has to be this girl. In addition to Vinnie’s cock in her cunt, she has another one in her mouth and one in each hand. I’m watching barely a minute when Joe Capalotti crawls up onto the bed between Vinnie’s legs and eases his schlong into the girl’s ass. She stops humping long enough to let him get in deep, then starts fucking like a wildcat, whimpering and squealing to show how much she loves it.
In the ten or so minutes I stand and watch, six or seven guys switch places, moving from her mouth to her pussy or her ass, or popping off and letting someone else step in. This girl has come everywhere, running out of her pussy and ass and mouth, and spattered all over her cheeks and chin and tits. She’s damn well getting off too. Every few minutes she clenches up and moans, obviously having another fuckin’ climax.
After awhile she lifts herself up and turns around, facing the doorway, and I can see her more clearly. The little slut is fuckin’ beautiful! She has big blue eyes and the sweetest angelic features. Her tits are small but full and firm, with little dark nipples. She also has a shock of shaggy pink-tipped hair and a completely shaved pussy. Then I notice a little tat just above her clit.
The tattoo is a pussycat with a sweet little face, surrounded by blazing red and yellow flames. It’s a perfect fuckin’ logo, because if any woman ever had a hot pussy, this one does. She’s got Bobby Checkers’ cock well up her ass now, and she leans backwards onto his chest and spreads her legs, opening her pussy lips with her fingers. “Come on guys,” she says. “Who’s next?”
Some guy I don’t know crawls up and slides his dick in, and Miss Hot Pussy lies back and climaxes again. While she’s still moaning, Gino’s uncle Leo steps up and slides his 70-year-old semi-hard dick between the girl’s lips. Leo has been videotaping the gang bang for 20 minutes, and when he sticks his dick in her mouth he doesn’t stop, just angles the camera down for a close up.
After a while I figure I’ve seen enough. No matter how sexy the little slut is, I’m not too fuckin’ eager for sloppy seconds. Or tenths. I back out and find Lois Roses, who gives me a quick blowjob just to relieve the intense pressure.
An hour later the girl is gone, and the amazing thing is that no one sees her leave. She takes a break to pee, leaving four guys standing with their dicks out, and suddenly she’s fuckin’ gone. Equally amazing, no one got her name or found out where she was from. She just showed up, served up pussy to a couple of dozen guys, then disappeared. The only evidence she had been there at all was Uncle Leo’s videotape.
Three days after the party I’m fucking Donna Capella in the back room at Lapland when Bobby Checkers starts banging on the door. I’m pissed at the interruption, because Donna is a nice fuck, and not that easy to tip over. She’s a bit on the chubby side, but still so fuckin’ limber she can put her ankles behind her ears. Which is where they are when Bobby starts banging on the door.
Before I can tell him to fuck off, he says Joe Pizza himself wants to see me. Now nobody keeps Mr. Pisacollini waiting, so I stick my dick in my pants and zip up, leaving Donna on the couch, twisted up like a pretzel.
Mr. P lives half an hour away in Ridgecrest Heights, and by the time I pull the Porsche into his circular drive, I’m about to piss my pants wondering what I’ve done wrong. The house is a fuckin’ mansion, with double front doors twice as tall as me, and I’m six two.
One of Mr. P’s bodyguards opens the door and invites me right in. We go through the foyer, which is as big as my fuckin’ living room, then down a hall and into Mr. P’s study, which has oak paneling, a huge desk and a pool table at one end. Mr. P is there with my boss Louie Deuce. They are in the middle of a pool game, which I have interrupted.
Mr. P walks over to me and smiles. “Tony,” he says, patting my cheek. “You’re a good boy. Smart. That was a nice thing you did with the tax commission. Very creative.”
I take a breath, hoping I don’t show how relieved I am. “Thanks Mr. Pisacollini, I . . .”
“Did the guy at the commission give you any trouble?”
“He balked a bit when I gave him the cash, but I told him he should keep the money. I said he could reissue the permits and use the cash for something nice, like a big screen TV, or he could blow us off and use it for hospital bills.”
Mr. P smiles, big. “Good boy. Now what did you do with your bonus?”
I smile back. “Bought a new car. A Porsche Carrera Targa.”
“Too fast for me,” he says, “But good for a young boy. How old are you now?”
“I’m 27. Next month.”
“Maybe you should think about settling down. Find a decent girl. Get married. Have a couple of kids.”
“Well, I . . . uh . . .” It is obvious settling down with a wife is not on my top ten to do list. Mr. P chuckles and waves his hand. “Don’t worry. You get married, you can still fuck the broads at the club. You just can’t bring them home.”
“Well, I . . .” I stand there, not knowing what to say. Mr. P waves his hand again.
“Just think about it. Now, let’s talk about why I wanted to see you.”
I take a breath, relieved to change the subject.
“Tony, I need someone I can trust to do something for me. I can trust you, can’t I?”
“Sure Mr. Pisacollini. Of course.”
“Good. Because I want you to take care of someone for me.”
Fuck. That can mean anything from breaking a thumb to whacking someone. I’ll feel a lot better if it has to do with thumbs.
Mr. P is standing close, looking up at me, holding his cue stick upright. “My niece is visiting from Miami. She just flew up yesterday. She’ll be here all summer. She’s a sweet girl. Her name is Angelina and that’s what she is. An angel. Very innocent, if you know what I mean.” He takes me by the arm, his grip incredibly tight for a fuckin’ 80-year-old man. “An innocent young girl can get into a lot of trouble in this town. I’m too old to chase around after a 20-year-old. I want you to do that for me. Okay Tony?”
“Sure Mr. P. You bet.” I’m so relieved I won’t have to whack someone I forget to say his name. I glance over and see Louie Deuce frowning, but Mr. P lets it pass.
“Good!” he says. He lets go of my arm and pats my cheek. “I knew I could count on you. Now let’s meet Angelina.” He makes a motion to someone and when I turn around his niece is standing in the study doorway.
At first glance she looks like a preppy college student from some Ivy League school. She has straight brown hair down to her shoulders, a blue button-down oxford shirt and a plaid wool skirt that comes down to her knees. She’s wearing brown penny loafers with no socks, and has a blue satin ribbon holding her hair away from her face. She moves into the room toward me and smiles, and I almost shit my pants. The last time I’d seen those lips, there had been a dick between them.
Mr. P is smiling big. “Angelina, this is Tony. He’s going to watch out for you a bit. Tony, meet Angelina.”
She sticks out her hand. “Are you going to keep me out of trouble this summer Tony?”
As if, I think, taking her hand. She immediately slips one finger into my palm, tickling me with a little scratching motion.
“So, Tony,” Mr. P says. “Take Angelina out. Show her your new car. Go for a drive. Just take care of her. She’s my only niece.”
In the cockpit of the Targa she’s just inches away from me, and she smells as fresh and sweet as she looks. By the time we exit the circular drive her loafers are on the floorboard and her button-down shirt has been tossed behind the seat. Underneath she has on a tight white tank top which really sets off her Florida tan, and through which I can easily see her dark little nipples.
She slides the seat back and raises her right foot to the dashboard, turning towards me as much as the bucket seat will allow. Her left knee is up on the console, almost in my lap.
“You know I don’t need a babysitter,” she says. “I can take care of myself.”
I glance at her and take a breath. “I’m sure you can,” I say. Now she has her plaid skirt pulled up to the tops of her tanned legs.
“At least you’re good-looking,” she says.
I glance over. She’s grinning like a Cheshire cat. “You wanna see my new tattoo? I just got it a week ago.”
“I think I’ve seen it,” I say. “You had pink hair then.”
“Oh?” she raises an eyebrow, still smiling. “I must have been wearing a wig. Were you at that party?”
“Yeah. I was,” I say.
“Did you fuck me?”
“No.” I turn up an entrance ramp to the Interstate, just driving, not sure where to take the little nympho.
“You want to fuck me now?”
“Sure, and wake up in the river wearing concrete shoes? I don’t think so.” When I look over this time she has pulled her skirt up high enough that I can see all of her thong panties, which aren’t covering her pussy lips as much as splitting them apart. She pushes the thong down a bit and the flaming pussy tattoo pops into view. I work hard to keep my eyes on the road.
“So your uncle thinks you flew in yesterday?”
Angelina grins. “I heard from my cousin Marisa there was going to be a bachelor party. She was all worried her husband Tucci might fuck a hooker. I was coming up for the summer anyway, so I thought I’d check it out. I’ve never been to a bachelor party before. I flew up early and checked into the hotel for a couple of days.”
“Just so you could get gang-banged in some hotel?”
“I didn’t plan on getting gang-banged. I was just going to find Tucci and fuck him. I can’t stand that bitch Marisa. But when I finally hooked up with him, and got him in the bedroom, a couple of other guys walked in on us. I was a little high on Ecstasy and feeling real good fucking Tucci, so when they joined in I didn’t object. After that I figured if I could fuck three guys, why not three more. I don’t know how many guys I actually did that night.”
“So did you enjoy it? The gang bang?”
“Oh yeah,” Angelina says, grinning. “It was bitchin’. I once did a threesome with two men, and another triple with my roommate and her boyfriend. But I’ve never had that much cock all at once. It made me so fuckin’ hot, you have no idea!”
I look over. She’s watching the highway, absentmindedly playing with her nipples through her tank top, circling a forefinger around one, then the other, keeping them stiff and erect.
“So if I have to babysit you until you go back to Miami,” I say, “how do I keep you from fucking every guy in town?”
She gives me the Cheshire grin again. “You’ll just have to fuck me yourself. I’m disappointed you didn’t want to fuck me at the party.”
“You looked like you had your hands full.”
Angelina giggles. “Yeah. And my mouth, and my pussy and my ass. Some prick even squirted in my ear. But I’ll bet you’ve got a nice cock. I’ll bet you can keep me happy and satisfied all summer.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think that’s what Mr. P had in mind when he said I should take care of you. Like I said, I don’t look good in concrete shoes.”
Angelina shrugs. “Okay. But you don’t know what you’re missing.”
“I think I have an idea,” I said, thinking about her at the party, naked on the bed, swallowing one dick after another, riding one cock while she whimpered for somebody to shove another one up her ass.
“Where are we going, anyway?” Angelina now has one hand under her tank top, rolling a nipple between thumb and forefinger.
“I don’t know,” I answer. “Where do you want to go?”
She thinks for a minute. “To a toy store,” she says. “Adult toys. If you aren’t going to fuck me, I want to buy a dildo. A couple of security assholes confiscated mine at the Miami airport. The perverts. As if I might break into the cockpit and hijack the plane with a vibrating rubber dick.”
I look over, unable to keep from smiling. She smiles back, all angelic features and smooth tanned skin and big blue eyes. She has pulled her thong to one side and she’s rubbing her clit with one finger. She’s also making a wet spot on the leather seat, but I fuckin’ don’t care.
“If you buy me a dildo I’ll let you watch me use it,” she says. “Then I’ll bet you’ll want to fuck me all right.”
I take a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. When I look again she’s pushing two fingers in and out of her cunt. In the close quarters of the Porsche the sweet smell of pussy fills the air.
“I’m a really good cocksucker, too.”
“I know,” I say. “I’ve seen you at work.” I pull off the Interstate and loop around, heading back into town.
“So are we going to a toy store? To buy me a vibrator?”
“I’ve got one a friend left at my apartment,” I say. “She won’t mind if you borrow it.” I look over just as she makes herself come, closing her eyes and tilting her head back as she spasms hard three or four times. Jesus, I think. How can anyone who looks so sweet and so innocent be such a sizzling little slut?
Angelina is right. Watching her use the vibrator does make me want to fuck her, which I do. Several times. Then I take her back to Ridgecrest Heights with a promise to pick her up at noon the next day. I spend the rest of the evening trying to decide how to handle my new assignment without getting my legs broken, or worse.
I also know I have to get hold of the videotape that Gino’s Uncle Leo made, so I pay him a visit the next morning. As soon as he finds out who the star of his homemade fuck film is, he can’t wait to get rid of the tape. Leo has seen too many men suffer the brunt of Joseph Pisacollini’s wrath.
That afternoon Angelina and I watch the tape twice, fucking ourselves senseless each time.
“Sixteen,” Angelina says as I rewind the tape for a third viewing.
“What?” I ask.
“Sixteen. That’s how many different men stuck their dicks in me.”
She blushed a little. “I wanted to know.”
“Did you count your orgasms too? How many times did you get off?” I started the tape again and Angelina settled down on my lap. We are both naked, on the couch, facing the TV.
“I don’t know,” she says. “Too many times to count.” She lifts her ass a little and reaches between her legs, nestling my prick between her pussy lips. We both sigh with pleasure as she slides down. On the TV screen she is on her hands and knees, getting it doggie-style from Vinnie Lodorico while she sucks Tucci D’Amato’s cock.
“My god, I’m such a slut!” she says wiggling her ass to get me deeper inside. “Don’t you think I’m a slut?”
“Abso-fuckin’-lutely,” I say. I’m squeezing her breasts, watching the TV screen over her shoulder.
“Does it bother you? That I’m a slut?”
“What do you think?” I ask. I stand up, lifting her as I turn around. When I lay her on the couch, she smiles and spreads her legs. I kneel between them and shove my cock into her cunt. By the time I finish fucking her the TV is nothing but static and she’s squealing like Donna Cappella.
That was a month ago. We kept the tape around for a few days, then I destroyed it. We still fuck like rabbits, and don’t need any external stimulation. I’ve never had so much good pussy in my life. Angie says she’s never had so much good cock. And there is still a month to go before she has to haul her sweet ass back to Miami.
I drop her off at her Uncle Joseph’s house every night by 11, and so far he seems happy about the way I’ve been taking care of his niece. I sometimes get a feeling he knows I’m boinking her brains out, and doesn’t mind as long as it keeps her from crashing bachelor parties. Maybe that’s what he had in mind. I don’t know.
I’ve tried to fuck a few of the broads at Lapland, after I take Angie home, but my heart hasn’t been in it. Just like this morning with Lois Roses. I mean, cross-eyed tits or not, that girl is a terrific cocksucker. But nothing can compare to looking down into Angelina’s baby blues as I fuck her. She is just so fuckin’ sweet!
I’ve seen Mr. P a few times in the past month, and he always reminds me that it would be good for me and my career if I could find a sweet girl and settle down. I’m sure that would be especially true if the girl were his niece. But could I handle marrying a girl who has happily gang-banged half the guys I know?
I just don’t fuckin’ know.
Kelly stared at the image on the computer screen, unable to believe that she was the woman lifting her breasts and spreading her legs for the camera. “Damn, you’re hot, Kelly,” Buck said, moving the mouse to click on another picture. In the next photo Kelly was reaching down to spread her pussy lips. Her wet slit glistened obscenely for the camera, revealing just how aroused she had been. She was equally aroused now, reviewing the pictures with her husband. Beneath her terrycloth bathrobe she could still feel a sticky wetness between her legs.
“I do look pretty nasty, don’t I?” There was a sense of admiration underlying the admonition in her comment. Buck swiveled his desk chair sideways to glance up at her, then grinned and turned back to his computer. In the picture on the screen, his wife was posed as he had never seen her before: lewd, lasciviously uninhibited. He clicked the mouse and another image filled up the screen. In that picture she had two fingers buried deep between her pussy lips. Her head was tilted slightly to one side, her eyes smoldering at the camera, her hair flowing sexily.
“Jeez, you look like you’re just begging to be fucked,” Buck said, staring at the picture.
“I was,” Kelly said. “That’s what I was thinking about.” She was holding the unbelted robe close around her waist. As she turned toward Buck, she let it fall open. “In fact,” she said seductively, “that’s just what I’m thinking now, too.” She spun Buck’s chair toward her, then leaned forward and unzipped his pants. She pulled his erection out and moved forward, straddling his lap. “Why would you look at dirty pictures when you can have the real thing?” she whispered huskily as she slid down over his cock.
Kelly fucked Buck hard, her body seeking release from the arousal generated by two hours of posing for him. As Buck held onto her hips, fucking her hard in return, he turned his head to look at the picture on the monitor. Kelly also turned to look at the screen and in moments she and Buck were blended in orgasm.
Later that night they made love again, Buck whispering in her ear how much her posing had turned him on. “It was pretty hot, wasn’t it?” Kelly said, stroking Buck’s cock as she snuggled next to him. “I kind of surprised myself. I didn’t know I could be so naughty.”
Kelly had often been told she could be a model. Even at twenty-nine, her 36-24-36 figure looked as good as any woman in a lingerie catalog. But she had never modeled before, and certainly not the way she had modeled for Buck. They had never owned a Polaroid camera, and the thought of sending a roll of home-made naughty pictures to their local photo developer was out of the question. But Buck’s new digital camera afforded them a level of privacy that seemed safe. After some coaxing and cajoling from Buck, Kelly finally relented and agreed to pose. And once she saw how sexy she looked, her inhibitions fell away as quickly as her clothes. She was surprised to discover just how nasty she was willing to be for his camera. She was even more surprised to discover how much she enjoyed it.
“You know,” Buck said coolly, holding her close after her climax. “I bet Stan and Dutch would love to see a couple of those pictures.”
Kelly jerked the hair on his chest. “You hush!” she scolded. “Don’t even think about showing those pictures to anyone!”
Buck looked into her eyes, serious. “I wasn’t talking about the naked shots, just the ones of you in lingerie.”
“Forget it, Buck.” Kelly raised up on one elbow and glared at him. “Those pictures are private. All of them. If you want to be banned from this pussy for life, you just print them out and show them around . . . “
“Okay, okay,” Buck said. “No prints.” He kissed her forehead. “It’s just that I’m proud of you. I like for my buddies to know what a sexy wife I have.”
“I know,” Kelly sighed, laying her head back on his shoulder. “That’s obvious from all the see-through tops and thong bikinis you buy me. If you had your way, I’d prance around in nothing but a G-string serving you and your friends beer and pretzels while you watch football and fondle my ass.”
“There’s a thought,” Buck said, grinning.
Buck did like to show Kelly off, and she didn’t mind, up to a point. It was a turn-on to wear sexy outfits in front of her husband’s male friends. Stan and Dutch were particularly enthusiastic in their admiration of her long legs and firm curves. Teasing them with an occasional flash of nipple or a peek at her panties had become a game that aroused her as much as it did them. The two men were pretty hot themselves, as well-built and ruggedly handsome as her husband. Kelly had to admit her fantasies often went further than she would dare consider going in reality.
Buck was aware of Kelly’s attraction to Stan and Dutch and didn’t seem to mind. In fact, in the heat of passionate fucking, he sometimes fueled his wife’s arousal with whispered suggestions of how he and one–or even both–of his buddies might pleasure her. These fantasies were extremely arousing to Kelly although she was certain Buck would never go through with anything. At least she was fairly certain.
The Monday night after she posed for the pictures, Stan and Dutch came over to watch the game with Buck. Kelly’s interest in football was about as deep as the chalk stripes on the field, so by nine o’clock she headed for bed. On the way she stopped to say good-night to Buck. She was wearing thong panties under a T-shirt that barely covered her ass, and when she leaned over Buck’s recliner to give him a kiss, she made sure Stan and Dutch got an eyeful. Stan gave a wolf whistle and Dutch said, “Looks like a full moon out tonight, boys!” Kelly glanced coyly over her shoulder, then wiggled her behind.
Buck pulled her close, tugging up her shirt to reveal more of her thong-clad bottom. “Why don’t you take off that top and bring us some beer and pretzels?” he whispered to her.
“In your dreams,” Kelly whispered back, giving him another peck on the cheek. “And you’d better stay away from that computer, too.”
Two hours later, Kelly awoke, aware that the house had become silent. The television was off, and she didn’t hear the guys laughing and joking in the den. Then she heard the murmur of low voices and Stan’s familiar wolf whistle. She sat up with a start, her pulse quickening. Buck wouldn’t dare! She slipped on a short satin robe and stepped out of the bedroom, her heart beating faster as she padded barefoot down the hall.
Would Buck really show Stan and Dutch the pictures he had taken? Maybe right then they were looking at her naked body, seeing how nasty she’d been, seeing how aroused she had become for the camera. Kelly felt herself blushing, the heat spreading down her cheeks and shoulders. She was filled with a mixture of emotions, from apprehension to anger to embarrassment. She hurried down the hall, stopped at the corner, then peered around the open doorway of the den.
She saw that the TV was off and the computer was on. Stan and Dutch had pulled up chairs in front of the monitor next to Buck. Their heads were so close together Kelly couldn’t see the picture on the screen, but she didn’t need to. She had seen them all before.
“Goddamn, she’s hot, Buck!” Stan said quietly as her husband clicked the mouse, opening another picture. “You are one lucky son of a bitch.”
No, you’re just a son of a bitch, Kelly thought, unable to believe what Buck was doing. But there they sat, drooling like three forty-year-old adolescents. She wondered if Stan and Dutch had erections. How could they not have hard-ons, she thought, remembering how shamelessly she’d spread herself for the camera.
Kelly suddenly realized that in addition to her embarrassment and her anger at Buck, she was also turned on. As she watched the men in the den, remembering how she had posed, knowing what they were seeing, her arousal intensified. She slipped one hand inside her robe. She was wet and her fingers felt good on her pussy. As she stroked her clit, she realized she was close to having an orgasm. She pulled her hand away and stared at the trio in the den, thinking. Finally she stepped around the corner into the doorway.
“Hello, boys,” she said. “What are you looking at?”
It was almost comical watching the three men jump, falling half out of their chairs as they turned around. They looked like deer caught in headlights. “Hey, sweetheart!” Buck said, a little too loudly. “You still up?” He had somehow managed to click off the monitor. Dutch and Stan were trying to regain their composure and their seats.
“What are you guys up to? Looking at some porno on the Net?” Kelly cocked one hip and leaned her shoulder against the door jam.
“No, honey. No, not at all,” Buck stammered. “We . . . I mean, Stan . . . Stan heard about a new stock. We were checking out a new stock.”
“Really?” Kelly said, raising an eyebrow. “I thought maybe you were checking out some naughty pictures. You know, some dirty digitals.”
“Dirty . . . ? No. No, not at all.” Buck said. “Just some stock quotes, is all.”
Kelly moved into the room and propped herself on the arm of the couch across from the three men. Her loosely belted robe fell to the side, revealing the tops of her thighs. If she opened her legs, her pussy would be easily visible. “That’s too bad,” she said, her eyes fixed on Buck. “I thought if you were looking at some dirty pictures, I might join you.”
Stan and Dutch regarded Kelly with amused interest, their attention focused on the uncovered tops of her legs and the depth of her cleavage revealed by the gaping robe.
“So, Buck,” Kelly said, “are we going to look at some dirty pictures or not?” She leaned back, stretching one arm out along the back of the couch. The movement pulled the robe away from her breast, revealing a hard pink nipple.
“You mean, you want to . . . ?” Buck continued to stammer, not quite understanding. “You want to look at the pictures we took of . . . ?” He stared at her in amazement, gradually becoming aware of what she was wearing and how provocative she looked.
“Not really,” Kelly answered, “since you’ve already seen those.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. She gazed at him steadily, letting him know she was very aware of what he had done. After a long moment her expression softened. “I was actually thinking we might take some new pictures.” She smiled. The scorn in her voice had been replaced with a disarming seductiveness.
She casually shrugged her shoulders, letting the robe fall away, then she slowly opened her legs. “Jeez, Kelly,” Buck said, half in a whisper. “Do you know what you’re doing?” He glanced at Stan and Dutch, who were looking at Kelly in wonder.
Kelly stared at him for a moment, then smiled. “I think I’m doing something you’ve wanted me to do for a long time. So hook up the camera.” She glanced at Dutch and Stan and smiled. “You don’t mind if your buddies watch, do you? They might enjoy seeing how much posing turns me on.” She reached down and slid one finger between her pussy lips. Buck stared at her, looked at Stan and Dutch, then back at Kelly. She was now squeezing one breast as she played with her pussy. His astonishment gave way to arousal. He took a deep breath and, grinning, turned to get the camera.
As the session progressed, Kelly’s poses grew increasingly lascivious, until she finally sent Buck to the bedroom for her vibrator, escalating everything to a new level of erotic intensity. Dutch and Stan watched with shit-eating grins, making no pretense of hiding either their enthusiasm or their erections. As she lay back fucking herself with the vibrator, Dutch moved to the end of the couch for a better view. Kelly accommodated him, sliding one foot onto the floor and placing the other on the couch back. “Damn, you’re hot, Kelly,” he said, rubbing his erection through his pants. Kelly didn’t answer, but smiled up at him through heavily lidded eyes.
“You know,” Dutch continued, grinning, “maybe we should get some pictures of you and Buck together.”
“Yeah!” Stan exclaimed. “We need some family photos.”
Kelly glanced at Stan, then looked back up at Dutch. “You mean you want to watch Buck fuck me?” She continued sliding the vibrator in and out of her pussy, holding it momentarily on her clit on the upstroke. She looked at Buck, who had lowered the camera to his side, just watching her. He grinned then said, “It’s up to you, babe. I’m game if you are.”
Kelly stared at her husband for a moment, then glanced down at the erection tenting his khakis. She looked up at him and smiled. “I guess we could always erase the pictures later on, couldn’t we?”
Buck’s grin widened. “All we have to do is hit the delete key,” he said.
Kelly reached an arm in his direction. “Then get your ass out of those pants,” she said, “and bring your cock over here, where it belongs.”
Dutch operated the camera while Buck fucked Kelly, letting them move from one position to another as he alternated between wide shots and close-ups. He managed to catch Kelly during two orgasms, but the digital camera wasn’t good at capturing objects in motion. And Kelly was definitely in motion.
After almost an hour of being photographed while being fucked by Buck, Kelly was on her hands and knees on the floor, leaning over her husband’s legs while she gave him a blowjob. She felt a hand cup her ass, then felt it slide down until a finger was caressing the slit between her pussy lips. It took her a moment to realize that Buck couldn’t reach that far. She lifted her head, her mouth making a loud “pop” as she pulled it off her husband’s cock. The finger at her pussy slid in, followed quickly by another. She wiggled her ass, enjoying the sensation. Then she felt something much larger than a finger at her pussy. She looked at Buck. “I think someone else wants to fuck me,” she said. “What do you think?”
Buck lifted his head and raised his eyebrows. “What do you think?” he asked.
“I think–” Kelly said, rolling her eyes up and letting out a long sigh of pleasure, “that it’s too late to object.” She leaned down to take Buck’s cock back in her mouth, wondering which of her husband’s friends had filled her with such a nice big prick.
The next morning Kelly and Buck awoke in a tangle of arms and legs and sheets.
“That was quite a night,” Buck said, as Kelly finally stretched and opened her eyes. “What got into you?”
“You mean besides three big dicks?” She smiled and began untangling their naked bodies from the sheets.
“Yeah,” Buck said. “What got into you besides our dicks? Not that I’m objecting, you understand.”
“You should know,” Kelly answered, making a sour, angry face. “That was just payback for showing your buddies our private pictures. I figured if you wanted to show them nasty pictures of me, I’d show them the real thing. I just didn’t plan on things going as far as they did.”
Buck looked at her curiously. “What are you talking about? I didn’t show them those pictures. I said I wouldn’t.”
“Don’t lie, Buck. I saw you last night, showing the pictures to Stan and Dutch. Talk about red-handed, for Christ’s sake! You almost came unglued when I caught you.”
Buck stared at her, then shook his head in amazement. “Come with me,” he said, sliding out of bed and pulling Kelly by the hand. With one hand on her elbow and the other on her bare bottom, he guided her to the den.
“Look,” he said, sliding into his chair and turning on the computer. After a moment he located the picture he was searching for. It was labeled “New BB.” He double clicked to open it, bringing a picture up on the screen. Kelly stared wide-eyed as the photo came into view.
On the screen was a photo of Buck standing next to a brand new bass boat. She knew it was the boat he had wanted for months but promised he wouldn’t buy until he bought her a new car. “That’s what I was showing Dutch and Stan,” he said, swiveling his chair to look up at her. “It went on sale and I couldn’t pass it up. I knew you’d get pissed off if you found out about it.”
Kelly stared at the screen, her mouth open. After several moments she took a breath. “Uh oh,” she said.
“I’ll say ‘uh-oh,’ ” Buck responded, turning back to the computer to open a new folder. “Just look at this.”
Kelly stared at the screen as Buck clicked through picture after picture after picture showing her being fucked in ways she hadn’t dreamed she could be fucked. With the camera’s timer set they had even taken some pictures of her being penetrated by all three cocks at once. Her performance would have been embarrassing if the images, and the memories, were not so arousing.
“You seem to be enjoying yourself here,” Buck said, looking at the screen. In the photo Kelly was smiling blissfully at the camera, her eyes glazed with lust. She was holding a cock in each hand while a third dick penetrated her pussy. “Did you have a good time?” He turned to look up at her, then slipped one arm around her waist. He opened an image of her in profile on her hands and knees, sucking Stan’s dick while Dutch fucked her from behind.
She took a deep breath, then said, “I have to admit I did. I didn’t know a gang-bang could be so much fun.” She put her arm around Buck’s shoulder. “How about you?” she asked. “Are you okay with it?”
Buck squeezed her waist then pulled her down into his lap. She could feel his erection under her bare bottom. “I’m just fine with it,” he said, looking into her eyes. “And so are Dutch and Stan. I’m sure they think last night was some kind of incredible dream.”
“It wasn’t, though, was it?” Kelly said, looking at the monitor. On screen she was on her back, her pussy facing the camera. She was laying on top of Buck, whose cock was up to his balls in her cunt. Her head was turned to the left, allowing her to suck Stan’s cock, while to her right she held Dutch’s dick in her clenched fist. Her free hand was stretched down across her body, her fingers rubbing her clit.
“That doesn’t look like a dream to me,” Buck said, lifting his hand to caress her breast. “That looks like one really nasty girl right there.”
“Yeah, that’s what it looks like to me too,” Kelly added softly, staring at the image. She could feel herself getting wetter. “Maybe we should erase everything.”
“Maybe,” Buck said. “But if we keep a few pictures, we could look at them every once in a while, whenever we want to get really horny. They do turn you on, don’t they?”
“I’ll say,” Kelly said, adjusting herself on her husband’s lap so that his erection lay along the entrance of her pussy. “But on the other hand, if we erase them and still want to get really horny, we would have to invite Stan and Dutch over to take some more, wouldn’t we?”
Buck looked at her and grinned, then said, “I suppose we would, wouldn’t we? So what do we do?”
Kelly smiled back at him, then lifted herself slightly and reached down to place her husband’s erection at the opening of her pussy. “Dump ‘em,” she said, as she slid smoothly down over his cock.