Ten minutes later a white Explorer pulled up and a beautiful blond got out. Michele Corvath. And dressed for a night seducing someone, with a white skirt, white blouse, white stockings and high heel shoes. She wouldn't be any more obvious if you'd painted "Come Fuck Me" on her forehead. A few minutes later two more wives from the subdivision showed up, also dressed to party. It looked like the card party had much higher stakes than Deb had mentioned.

Just the thought of what might be happening inside set Brian's dick to throbbing. He had to see for himself. He had to at least get a look inside, and if possible, actually go inside. The latter would take some doing. But getting a peek inside would be easy. But how to get up to the house without being spotted? In the end he took the back way in, parking on the other side of the woods and crossing a few backyards to approach the house from the rear. To his dismay, no one was in any of the back rooms. All the action appeared to be centered in the living room, which lay at the front of the house. Aided by the heavy shrubbery, he worked his way forward, finally able to look into the front room while still being near the front porch.

Several more women had arrived, and they all sat somewhat nervously at the near end of the living room. The men had gathered in the kitchen, sharing in the drinks and food Kate Winslow had set out. Brian hadn't spotted his wife yet, and still wasn't sure whether he wanted to or not. He didn't have much time to dwell on it, though, because just then he heard the familiar "chirp, cheep, chirp, chroo," of her car alarm setting. An unexpected thrill shot through him. She was his ticket into the house. He just had to play it right.

"Looks like it's going to be some party," he said roughly as he pulled Deb from the porch and into the bushes. "Is Lord Boa your date for the day again?"

The shocked expression on her face revealed that his guesses had hit the nail on the head. This was to be no card party; it was going to be a sex party! He pressed his advantage, "You slut. The only way I'm going to let you go in there is if I go with you. So you better think of a way to get me in the front door, and then give me free reign to wander wherever I want. And you better think fast, or I'll put an end to this whole flyer guy thing with a few well-placed phone calls!"

"But, but I can't!" she whined. "The other women...no one's allowed..."

"You will!" Brian said harshly. "The other women understand the stakes and what will happen to them if their husbands find out. I doubt there's not one other husband who'll be as liberal and understanding as I've been. Hell, Michele's husband is such a bigot he'd probably divorce her on the spot. So you better find a reason for me to 'observe.' And make it a good one. Or else..." He left the threat dangling, not ready to share how far he'd go. Besides, he hadn't thought that far ahead.

Giving his wife a slap on the ass, he sent her into the house, then moved onto the porch. Now he'd see how good she was at improvising to save her skin. He knew he'd taken a risk. He had enough leverage to convince the women to let him in. The men, however, could just come out and beat the shit out of him. At eleven to one, it wouldn't take them long.

Two minutes later the door opened and his wife let him in. He allowed her to push him into the adjoining library; she obviously had some warnings for him. "They say you can come in. They say you can watch. The men all agreed too. But they all say that everything you see and hear today stays in here. The women know they can't enforce that rule. But the men say that if you screw up their good thing, they'll find you and kill you." She pushed close to him and repeated it with worry in her voice, "They said it just like that. They'll kill you."

He laughed, though a small flutter of fear tightened his heart. He'd expected the threat, and actually hadn't expected to be allowed inside. The very thought of seeing so many white women being screwed by so many big cocks immediately stiffened his own. Feigning more confidence than he felt, he reached under Deb's skirt and squeezed her pussy. "I'll be sure to stop by and see you," he promised, not surprised at all to find her sopping wet. "Now get back to your party. I can take care of myself."

He was in! And most of all, he had the chance to make the best of a bad situation. He thought about the women he'd seen in the living room. Many were from their own social circle, and he'd often fantasized about what they looked like under their expensive designer clothes. Which had fake boobs? Which dyed their hair? Which were wild women in bed, and which were submissive? Now he'd find out all that and more. Too bad there hadn't been a reason to bring a camera. He'd just have to commit it all to memory.