Sixth Installment

 

 

None of them, except Gary, came over for a few days.  It seemed odd. But then I think that Jim and Bill at least felt ashamed and worried.  Gary and Steve now had shared the same girl and it was a constant topic of their conversation.  But Steve felt uncertain about his feelings.  He was in love with Annie. He was uncomfortable seeing her taken by other men and he did not like the way Gary talked about her.

 

Gary of course tried putting moves on Annie, but she pushed him off.  I saw him a couple times trying to talk to her or touch her when I left the room and so on.  But Annie really did not want to.  The truth was she only gave herself to him because I wanted to watch.  However, she was very fond of Steve and very affected by his endearing affection for her; his tenderness, his sexual fascination for her made her yield to him with warmth and pleasure.   Steve could seduce her, and did seduce her several times over these weeks.  But Gary had no attraction to her and that must have been frustrating for him. 

 

On the other hand, she was truly intoxicated with group sex.  She felt no real attraction to any of my friends individually—except for Steve perhaps with whom there was this brief mutual infatuation—but if the group of them got into the mood for some sexual fun, a little drunk, a little steamed up by suggestive play, a little naughty with undress and so on, she loved to do it with them all. And too, as she explained it to me, the feeling of several of them wanting to excite her, of the several hands feeling her at once, of the several mouths on her body, of kissing them all with abandonment, that was a magnitude and kind of sexual pleasure entirely different than making love with any one man she loved or wanted.  This was not about wanting anyone; this was about wanting all of them. 

 

She told me a sexual dream she had around this time: she was naked in a meadow on a warm day and she lay in the grasses and found that all around her were penises growing out of the ground, laying among them like flowers, growing erect at her touch; and she touched many and their erections yearned to be touched by her, and she licked them and lay languidly beside them, feeling them, sucking on them, one after another, fondling them, sucking on them, and delighting to make them ejaculate so that she might watch or might receive it in her mouth; and, she added, they all tasted wonderful.  Which was never the real case, of course.  But this fantasy is how she felt about group sex.  She felt herself swept away sexually by the group of men who shared her salaciously.  Every woman should have this pleasure at least once in her life.

So we did not see them all together again until the weekend and they were very guarded and jumpy around me.  They looked at me like the cuckold I was, I guess; they felt sorry for me and at the same time ached to fuck my wife again. 

 

I told Annie when we spoke in the kitchen privately that I thought I made them uncomfortable and she kissed me and said she didn't care what they thought.  I asked her what she wanted me to do; did she want me to leave? She kissed me again and said she really wanted to do it again with them, but not right away.  She wanted it to feel right.  I asked: "Can I watch?"  She kissed me and whispered: "You like that... seeing me fucked by them...." She looked at me sweetly and I nodded.

 

 

 

Figure 1 : So Annie was game for almost anything.  And sex by the group aroused her more than anything.  They had more than few friends at the Jim's house and without much effort or persuasion had got her clothes off and pulled down her bra and underpants to strike the pose. I count ten guys in this group—eleven if you count Gary who took the photo.  I only know only three of them in the picture.  Gary gave it too me years later as a souvenir. It was one of many incidents she never told me about. They used my wife for their suck-and-fuck toy for the rest of the day.  She serviced all of their cocks with her mouth until she got tired and then they fucked her a dozen times.

It was understood then that she would do it again, but only if I could watch.  At least that is what I thought was the understanding.

 

But it did not always happen that way.  The next time she did it with them I was gone at work.  She told me about it but that was not the same.  I was hurt.  She saw that I was hurt and it confused her.  I could not really explain how I felt.  But I said simply that I wanted her to do it again on a certain night that I could watch and I added I wanted it to be some men she did not know.

 

That was a big change. 

 

She looked at me anxiously.  She would not refuse.  She felt she owed it to me somehow. Unknown to me there had several things going on that made her feel guilty.  For one thing there had not been just this one group-fuck with my friends since the first time—which I had witnessed—but there had been four times she had been group-fucked in just two weeks; and there had been not just my friends fucking her, but at the latest one, about which she had not told me the whole truth—and this is the part she never did tell me—there had been three additional guys to the group, guys she did not know.  Gary would someday tell me how she had fucked altogether seven guys that one day, taking them in turns, or I should say, they fucked her in turns, one or two at a time, on our bed for the better part of a whole day; Gary made phone calls from the apartment to bring them on, getting the five others from friends of his brother Steve, high-school kids really.  She never told me any of this, because it made her sound like a slut.  And for that matter she felt like a slut—and she enjoyed it, at least that day.  She enjoyed how they took her for a fuck-toy and posed her every which way to fuck, letting her out of bed only to pee or to get a drink of water, and using a wash cloth between fucks to clean her up for the next guy.  Gary's fuck fest made it a challenge—how many times could they make her cum?  Gary later said he counted maybe a dozen fucks, and she had had probably more than two dozen orgasms—because she usually cums at least twice in a fuck.  She was worn out, but glowing and exhilarated when I got home and I found her freshly showered, drying her hair with a towel while talking animatedly with Gary as she sat on the sofa in her bathrobe.  Not the least ashamed of it, she giggled to confess it all, after Gary left, except for leaving out mention of the extra three boys and the half dozen fucks they got in.  I suppose she thought it would bother me that I did not know them, and of course barely legal age.

 

So this had made her feel bad because I felt obviously jealous about it and pouted, mostly because I had been left out but also annoyed how Gary was taking command of her.

 

But then too there were also the things she did not tell me.  Those other times she had fucked my friends in a group when I was gone, and then too there was George and his buddy, which she did not tell me about.  

 

George from the liquor store.  She only admitted to this after the whole thing was over, when I made a big mistake that put of us in some danger, and we were both expressing our regrets and misgivings.

 

She said that she had not told me because she was ashamed of it, not because she had done it, so much as because she had enjoyed it so much; she was afraid my feelings would be hurt. 

 

The whole encounter had been unexpected, and these men, old enough to be her father, even older, treated her unexpectedly.  A different generation, whose ideas of how to treat a woman were also very different than my friends ideas.  Sex between my wife and my friends had been play. Sex with these men would be serious.  While my friends viewed my wife's naked body as their toy, these men viewed my wife's naked body like a religious object.  That is what especially pleased her: how every touch was tender and how her sexual response astonished them, gratified them as men who had long ago gave up hoping they were capable of more than one ejaculation in one fuck session.   At their time of life one shot was all you got—if even that.  But my wife was an aphrodisiac.  Her nakedness tantalized them; it gave them hard-ons just to undress her, and they did not fail, even if they got a bit logy after first spent; they stayed just thick enough to keep dicking her and if they kept pumping, her young cunt held them tightly.

 

They came bearing gifts. Literally.  A box of top-shelf booze.  George (and his unnamed friend) showed up before he had to go to work just a few days after her "flashing" the two of them.  She was herself getting ready for work at the restaurant.  But this was not like the encounter with Jon and Gary who simply demanded to fuck her.  They were polite and indirect.   They wanted to express their "appreciation," and then awkwardly got around to asking if they could meet her sometime for a drink. 

 

She did not want to be evasive but she hardly understood what they wanted.  She declined meeting them evenings, and actually she had to work many of these.  They settled on lunch.  She settled on the supper club that adjoined a nearby motel, which opened for "businessmen" lunches.  This was classy place to our tastes and old-school.  The men who went there were all middle-aged, a place for long lunches (with lots of cocktails) and a place for certain kinds of lunches with secretaries, for there was convenient and discreet walkthrough to the motel lobby and to a back hallway leading to the back section of rooms, all of which discreetly faced a parking lot out of sight of the street.   A tentative date was set.  She thought the whole thing "sweet."  She guessed perhaps they wanted something sexual; but they had seemed so indirect.  She was guessing they wanted her for some "art" photos.  She had an older second cousin, almost more an uncle to her, who had posed her for photographs in the nude when she was fifteen—that is another story—but it was one important provocations of my own sexual fantasies about Annie.  Anyway, she always insisted that "nothing happened," and that his pictures were like old-time pin-ups, that even hid from view her recently developing pubic hair; if she stood for him, he had her cover it with her hand.  I always wished I had those pictures.  She did not have a single one and if someone found them, locked in his dresser drawer, after he died, I suppose they kept them for themselves or destroyed them out of decency.  What a loss.

 

Well, George had arranged everything and she walked into it pretty innocently and stupidly.  She had not known what was planned, but she was easily persuaded.  Again, she said it was flattering to her, and it felt naughty and intriguing.  In short, they seduced her after their fashion, although in the end they were honest and candid about what they wanted.  It never occurred to her that it was essentially prostitution.  She was paid in liquor to let them fuck her.  She never really understood that, although she is worldly and wise now and would easily admit that is what happened.  I don't know that she would be nearly as forgiving to herself as I was to her.  When she told me, I was sympathetic to her.

 

They had a nice lunch.  It is odd that she never did remember the other man's name.  She doesn't think he ever said it.  He spoke very little.  He nodded to what George said.  George took the lead.  He ordered all the food.  He ordered all the drinks.  He anticipated what Annie might like, but he was always asking her what she wanted.  He had an uncanny knack of knowing what she liked, she said.  It was something she would express surprise about and he winked at her.  That she liked Manhattans, for example, with a maraschino cherry on a stem in a martini glass with no ice.   How did he know?

 

They had prime rib of beef for lunch.  Baked potato with sour cream.  The works.  She complained they would make her fat.  They teased her that she could use a little fat.  She blushed.  They certainly knew, she admitted.  She said coyly, sipping her third Manhattan: "You don't think my thighs too fat?"

 

George said she was a beautiful woman.  If she was fishing, it was they who had caught the fish.  She blushed appropriately.  She fluttered her eyes.  She was half-drunk.  So when he suggested they go to the room.  She never asked what he meant.

 

It was all so nice and pleasant and easy and natural, so affectionate and kind, so sweet and gentle. They said nothing crude or suggestive, made no comments or leers.  The room had been prepared.  The curtains were closed.  One of the two twin beds had been laid open to its sheets neatly.  A bottle of wine, opened before, was ready to be poured into the three glasses on the round table under the chandelier.  A radio played light classical music.

 

She was offered wine.  She declined.  George standing before her did not presume to kiss her mouth. In fact, she said, he never did kiss her except on saying goodbye. But he motioned for her to turn for them and they watched her.  Then he sat on the foot of the bed and his friend sat on a chair beside the table behind her and he said: "Undress for us, Annie, will you please?" 

 

This was unexpected, she said, and yet she was not surprised.  She is certain that she blushed.  She is certain that she said she shouldn't.  She can't remember it so clearly, she was so swept up by the whole thing, but she remembers vividly what he said: "Annie, you will never regret what you will do in this room."

 

She felt utterly under their charm. They were fascinated by her body, as she revealed it to them, dropping her clothing to the floor, where George picked up each article and folded it and put it on the other bed.  When she was wearing only her underpants and about to remove them, George lifted his hand to stop her and motioned her to come closer to where he sat.  And so stepping between his legs he kissed her nipples and gently felt her breasts.   After leaning back to look at her and then her face, smiling at her, he motioned for her to offer herself in the same way to his friend, who caressed her and kissed her breasts in much the same way. 

 

Meanwhile, as she was consciously aware, George was undressing and when he told her to turn he had undressed to his undershorts and black socks.  He was pale and almost hairless, she said.  He looked almost frail and yet his skin was lovely, she felt.  He motioned her toward him and when she was near he put his hands to her waist and looked up at her face and said: "We will never do anything that you do not want us to do."  She kissed her belly below the navel and slowly drew down her underpants.  Once she was completely naked, he took a long time fondling her as she stood before him, feeling her buttock, lightly fingering the edges of and the lips of her vagina, petting the smooth mound of her pubis and its curly hairs.

 

He turned her and kissed her buttock, holding her cheeks and lightly pushed her to stand before the other man who had undressed behind her back.  He took his turn fondling her.

 

When they laid her on the bed, they turned off all but the light from the bathroom.  Then in the dimness, they took turns in silence and fucked her as she lay on her back, spreading her legs for them, her hands on their backs.  Between fucks they pulled their undershorts back on.  They each fucked her twice and seemed very pleased with it.  She said it was pleasant and that her sexual pleasure had never felt so peaceful.  She said she felt more worshipped than fucked.

 

She said that after these sessions with George and his friend she always felt very happy. 

 

I asked her how many times she had done it.  By the third month of our adventures, after which it ended, she had met them at the motel nine times.  I was astonished, not least because I knew nothing about it, but because she had gotten so that she had planned for them, she had accommodated her work schedule for them.  They met once or twice a week for several weeks.  Each of them fucking her, usually twice each; and they began to vary their sexual positions, so that often she took them on her hands and knees and sometimes bent over the table, and in last few times, because George had hinted at so indirectly, she had initiated fellatio on them and they were surprised she was willing to do this, but especially surprised when she let them complete their ejaculations in her mouth and swallowed it with pleasure.  Neither of them had ever had a woman suck them off in their entire lives, which for me is commonplace; Annie still does it for me.