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

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

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

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

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

"What do you mean?" she asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

My Fantasy Part I

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

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

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

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

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

I want you to imagine your pretty wife, dressed in my white silk blouse with the high collar and no bras, the black skirt that hugs my ass the way you like and the red "tong" panties you bought me for our anniversary underneath, and the black pumps that drive you crazy, sitting in a cozy restaurant and flirting with a handsome stud across from me. I want you to imagine us at a nightclub afterwards, dancing. (No, I won't tell you where we're going). Imagine all the things that can happen between two horny people when the lights are low and the beat of the music is deep and sexy. I want you to imagine the effects of the drinks, and the slow dancing, and the sensual music. Imagine where his hands will go, and the things I might whisper in his ear.

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

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

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

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

Your Naughty Wife,


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


I opened my eyes and looked up at her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So?" I said, raising my eyebrows.

She looked at me with a gleam in her eye.

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

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

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

As she stroked my erection, the following story emerged:


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The fuck had been long and hard. She had come 4 or five times, she couldn't remember, and her legs were almost giving out when he finally came and sprayed her cunt with semen.

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


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

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

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

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

God help me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I turned her around and held her by her shoulders.

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

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

She was right. I didn't.


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

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

Linda stepped around the corner and smiled.

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

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

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

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

"Everything you ordered."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right. THAT statement took the ambiguous prize.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I wanted more and I was hard as a rock.

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

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

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

"Yes, with all my heart."

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


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


"Speak the entire sentence, Linda."

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

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

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

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

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



Finally, almost inaudibly, "yes."

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

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

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

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

"Delicious. Sweet. A honeysuckle cunt."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As Linda complied, the position we were in ****** her to arch the center of her back forward, presenting her breasts in a graphic manner. I dropped my hands, reached around her, and cupped her warm tits. Then, with the middle three fingers on each hand, I massaged each breast in a circular fashion, moving from the sides to the center, and around the erect nipples. I grasped each nipple

between thumb and forefinger and gently pulled them outward, then rolled them between my fingers carefully, like soft grapes. Releasing them, I opened my hands, placed them over her nipples so they just lightly brushed the center of my palms, and made a circular motion, gently rubbing the very tips. Linda was breathing deeply and irregularly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Your turn, Peter."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nearby, the everpresent sound of the camera shutter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I've been less horny."

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

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

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

One pair of hands unbuckled my belt while another lowered my zipper. My pants were shed to my ankles and I stepped out of them. A set of nails ever so lightly ran up and down the length and underside of my cock through my shorts. A cool hand slipped into my shorts from behind and through the opening for my left leg, gently caressed me, and retreated. Suddenly, I felt lips pressing against the tip of my cock. They blew wet, hot breath which soaked into the fabric of my shorts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm speechless," William said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Will you all kindly move so that Linda is in the center of the triad you form. Linda, take your panties off, and hand them to your husband. Now, turn around, spread your legs a bit, bend at the waist and place your hands on your ankles. There, that's fine.

Can you spread your feet apart a bit more? Good. And can you comfortably maintain that position for a little while?,"

"I think so," Linda replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I think I'd like that."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

"Oooooooh. Scary."

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

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

Linda suddenly put her hand up in exasperation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

As all the scenarios unfolded in my mind like a cheaply wrapped package, my dick stood to attention. I started to load the dishwasher (remembering to rinse them first). Life is so full of possibilities....
  • Love
  • Like
Reactions: Kalifstorch, Travelsalot, leahswannabe and 1 other person