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From: Ed Rider <edrider73@gmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Souvenir of Budapest
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<1st attachment, "Souvenir of Budapest.txt" begin>

Souvenir of Budapest



   By Ed Rider



   Magda didn't keep it a secret that she went through a wild phase while
she was a student in Budapest.

   By the time I met her, she was the hottest real estate agent in town in
both senses.  I don't know whether it was her beautiful face, her curves,
her good nature, her sense of humor or the sexy Hungarian accent that
closed all her escrows -- probably some of each.

   I fell hard, and for some reason, she chose me, although I thought all
the other guys she was dating were better looking than me and had a lot
more money.  Still, our marriage was a good one, and two children made it
stronger and made her even more beautiful to me.

   We had a good love life, with lots of variety -- at least I thought so.
Most of it was comfortable, but we would occasionally surprise each other
with spontaneous ideas, and each of us usually enjoyed the surprises.  I
was less daring and never tried anything that I thought might be
uncomfortable for her.  Occasionally I did decline some of her more unusual
moves.

   One of them was sticking her fingers in my anus.  One finger was all
right and even felt good when she moved it around as we made love, but
sometimes she stuck a second finger in.  That bothered me , and I stopped
her.  One time, before I could do that, she put a third finger in, and I
jumped up.

   "What's wrong?" she asked.

   "You know," I said.  "I don't like that."

   "You are so unadventurous," she said.  "You never want to try anything
new."

   "You know that's not true," I said.  "I just don't like how that feels,
and you want to take it even further, don't you?"

   "Yes, I admit it," she said.  "I promise you I would be careful.  I'm
certain you could take all my fingers and even my whole hand in there and
more.  You might enjoy it, or you might hate it.  But unless you let me
try, how will you ever know for sure?"

   "I already know that I'll hate it," I said, "and I don't need to know
for sure."

   "Every time you try something new on me, I go along," she said. 
"Sometimes, I really like it, sometimes it does nothing for me and
sometimes I can't stand it.  But I always tell you later, when we're done,
when I know for sure.

   "If I didn't do that, we would have both missed out on some exciting
things we now do all the time.  It's not fair that I'm the only one who
takes the risks when you benefit as much as me."

   "You know that if you say you don't want to do something, I would never
pressure you to do it," I said.  "Why won't you do the same for me."

   "You're not listening," she said.  "How would I know I don't want to do
it?  How do you know?  Oh never mind!"

   By that time, we were both out of the mood, so I turned on my night
light and went back to the book I was reading before we began getting
amorous.  She got up and went to her computer in her office to respond to
some email.  After an hour, I turned off the light and went to sleep.  She
still hadn't come back to bed.

   About a week later, she told me she wanted to take a vacation without
the kids this year, because she wanted to show me around Budapest, and the
toddlers were too young for the trip.  So a few months later, we dropped
the kids at my parents and flew off.

   She didn't have any family left in Hungary, because they had all moved
to the States, but her college girlfriend, Juliska, still lived in Budapest
and greeted us at the airport.  She was another beauty, and her body was
even more voluptuous than Magda's.  She showed it off in some skimpy and
slutty outfits as the three of us explored the city for four days.

   A lot of other beauties crossed our path as we wandered around, and most
of them were dressed like Juliska rather than Magda, whose outfits that
were considered risque at home looked tame by comparison.  There was
something about Juliska that was a little out there, and conversations with
her and Magda were a lot of fun, including lots of dirty jokes.  Sometimes
they were in Hungarian, but Magda translated.

   I figured this was because Juliska was part of the Hungarian film
industry and she'd been around, even though she told me she was mostly
involved in production and didn't do much acting.  Several times I caught
her looking at me intently, but when I noticed, she turned away, and she
definitely never flirted with me.

   On the morning of our fifth day, the last day before we flew home, Magda
announced that she and Juliska had arranged a memorable evening for me that
night.  "It will be a real souvenir of Budapest," said Magda at breakfast.
"Juli won't be with us today, because she's working on it."

   I figured it would be something similar to our fancy dinner with gypsy
music a couple of nights before and didn't think about it again as we spent
the day strolling the streets, watching the many outdoor performers and
shopping for gifts to take home.

   We brought everything back to the hotel room, and I asked Magda if we
should change for dinner, but she said no.  A few minutes later, Juliska
arrived, and we walked a few blocks to a nondescript office building. 
Juliska ushered us inside and led us past a receptionist and down a
hallway. We ended up in front of a couple of small dressing rooms, like the
kind you find backstage in a theater, except the mirrors that had once been
on the walls had been removed.  All that was left was empty wooden framing.

   There we were introduced to Ilona, who looked like she bought her
clothes the same place Juliska did.  "You are both going to be in costume
for this," said Juliska, pushing me into one room with Ilona while she took
Magda's hand and pulled her into the other room.  The door shut, and Ilona
started undressing me.

   "Wait a second," I said, pushing her hands away.  "What's going on?"

   Her accent was a lot thicker than Juliska's and her English a lot worse.
She showed me a colorful outfit hanging from a pipe rod and seemed to be
saying this was some kind of imperial costume that I was to wear.  I
decided to go along, but I told her I'd undress myself.  Even though she
was adamant about me taking off my briefs, I kept them on while she put the
elaborate costume over my head.  I didn't know what it was, but it seemed
like a long tunic made from some kind of heavy material that was white,
with lots of colorful flowery and frilly things sewn on to it.

   Once I had it on, she sat me down in the dressing chair and began to
work on my face.  I started to object, but in her halting English she
explained that makeup was part of the costume.  I closed my eyes and let
her rub and dab away at me.  The weirdest thing was when she stuck several
cloth disks on top of my balding head with some kind of sticky putty. 
Finally, she scrutinized me and nodded in satisfaction.

   When she was done, she pulled me down the hall to a large room with an
oversized couch on it.  Sitting on the couch was a beautiful woman dressed
like a man, but not just any man.  She looked like a medieval prince and
had a fake mustache and beard on.  But in between the colorful hanging
cloth material and decorations, you could see some major breasts and a
gorgeous round rear, so it was definitely a woman.

   When she patted the place next to her and said, "Sit down," I suddenly
realized it was Magda.  I thought it might be ventriloquism, until I pulled
aside some cloth and hair and saw that special mark in the hidden place
that Magda always told me was for my eyes only.  Otherwise, I wouldn't have
believed it was her, because the makeup job was so good.  I wondered what
Ilona's makeup had made me look like.

   When I sat down, some bright stand lights were turned on across the room
and on either side of us and aimed straight at us.  I couldn't see who was
standing behind them, but I heard the pleasant voice of a woman who had a
Hungarian accent but spoke English well.  She started asking questions,
first in Hungarian to Magda and then in English to me.  I didn't find out
until later that the questions to Magda were different than the questions
she asked me:

   Woman: You both look great?  What do you think?

   Me: I didn't even recognize Magda.

   Woman: I thought that was the idea.

   Me: What do you mean?

   Woman: How do you feel about doing this movie with Magda?

   Me: I'm just going along.

   Woman: Aren't you a little bit afraid?

   Me: I haven't had time to think about it.  Should I be afraid?

   Woman: Well, most men wouldn't be willing to do this.

   Me: I know what you mean.  I feel pretty silly sitting here in this
costume.

   Woman: Magda wrote the story.  Did you have any idea she was capable of
such a thing?

   Me: No, I never knew she could write.

   Woman: Are you sure you want to go through with this?

   Me: No.  But I'm here now, so I guess Magda's not going to let me get
away with leaving before we shoot this silly costume video.

   That was the end of the conversation with me.  She asked Magda a few
more questions in Hungarian, and I wished again that I had learned some of
the language before we came.  I had no idea what they were saying.

   Then Magda got up and assumed her character, I guess, because she stood
up straight and marched in a military stride out of the lighted area into
the dark, where I could not see her.  But before she did, she turned and
gave me one of her characteristic mischievous looks.  At least I think so,
because she looked so different that I wasn't sure.

   A second after she left, Ilona and a large woman came to the couch.  The
woman was about a foot taller than me and very muscular.  She had a mean
expression on her face.  Just as I was thinking this was the first ugly
Hungarian woman I'd seen on this trip, she squatted down in front of me,
grabbed my feet and in one quick motion pulled them high in the air.  My
costume fell over my face, and I couldn't see anything.

   While I was being held upside down by her, two hands grabbed my briefs
and pulled them straight up.  The woman released one foot at a time -- she
was really strong -- and my briefs were pulled off.  I started to shout,
but then two fingers stuck something rubbery into my mouth.  It was the end
of a balloon.  I could feel the rubber taste in my mouth.

   As soon as the end was in my mouth the fingers pinching it pulled away,
and I felt all the air of the balloon escape into my mouth.  I was still at
the start of my yell, but the yell turned into a high-pitched squeal that
sounded funny.  This made me even angrier.  The balloon had contained
helium and the more I yelled, the more ridiculous it sounded.

   Meanwhile, I felt a finger pushing something greasy into my anus.  That
was followed by a long tube that was pushed in further and further before
stopping deep inside me.  Then I felt the hot liquid flowing into me.

   I struggled, but the big woman was still holding my feet in the air, and
the liquid kept coming.  Finally it stopped, and after holding me up a few
more minutes, the woman slowly lowered my feet back to the floor, and I
could see again.  She grabbed me around the waist and held me.  I moved my
hands and feet frantically trying to escape, but although I twisted back
and forth, I couldn't get free.

   When my twists began turning into squirms, she released me and took my
hand.  I stood up and tried to break free, but she held my hand tight and
pointed toward a corner of the room that was in the dark and slowly started
walking in that direction.  I was now really squirming and had given up
trying to escape in favor of trying to hold the liquid in.  When I saw that
that we were heading toward what looked like a bathroom, I moved ahead
quickly and dragged her behind me.  She was still holding my hand tightly.

   Even when I got to the toilet, she didn't let go.  Afterward, she took a
soapy sponge and cleaned me and then dragged me back to the couch.  She
held me while someone came up behind me and pushed something on top of my
head, making it stick to me.  That's when I realized those pieces of cloth
stuck to my head were Velcro.

   I tried to resist, but they had put some powerful stuff in that enema,
and by the time everything was expelled, I was exhausted and weak.  Then I
heard some loud martial music coming from speakers somewhere in the room.
After a few seconds, the music gradually faded, and I heard a man speaking
in English with a Hungarian accent.  It was like a formal announcement:

   "The princess's wedding night, Part One.  The slave of the prince
prepares the bride for her first consummation."

   As these words were spoken, a short, muscular man, whose body shone with
oil walked up to the couch.  He looked like a fire hydrant, squat and
square with not an inch of fat.  All he wore was what looked like a
miniskirt that came to just above his knees.

   Just like the heavy woman, he lifted me up into the air by my feet, and
then another tube was inserted deeply.  Oh no, I thought, here we go again.
Sure enough, I started filling up.  This time it wasn't water but something
thick and greasy, but it was just as uncomfortable.

   When it had finished, he continued to hold me up for a few minutes, but
he didn't lower my legs and lead me to the bathroom.  Instead he pulled my
legs apart and stepped between them.

   That's when I saw that there was something huge peeking out from under
his skirt.  It was as long as a snake and much wider and it was rising into
the air and pushing his miniskirt higher.  He dropped one of my legs but
kept holding the other one high.  His other hand took the huge snake and
placed it between my rear cheeks, and then he pushed.  As he did, there was
a squishy sound and some of the greasy stuff inside me squirted out.  He
pulled back a moment and then rubbed his pole in the grease and up and down
my crack.  I tensed my anal muscles as he pushed again, and this time
nothing came out, but he didn't let up on the pressure.  Nothing happened
for a minute, and then I screamed as I felt him begin to slide into me.  I
sounded like Donald Duck frightened by an ant.  He kept pushing, and I felt
a strange kind of discomfort.  There was hardly any friction because of the
grease, but the huge snake was stretching my rear hole and insides.  I was
panting from trying to cope with the horrible feeling, and as he pushed the
last few inches in, I almost fainted from the pain.  He stopped while I
breathed in and out and tried to deal with the huge mass inside my body.

   Then he began pulling out a little and pushing back in.  I screamed
again, and Donald sounded a little darker until another balloon was emptied
into my mouth and the high voice returned.  I stopped making any sound
except sobs and grunts as he slowly and painfully moved in and out of me,
each time pulling further out before pushing all the way in.

   I turned my head away toward the lights and saw in the corner a TV
monitor playing a porn film of a short man making love to the anus of a
beautiful woman.  It was the same man who was attacking me, and even the
rhythm was the same.  As I moved my arm, the woman's arm moved the same
way. Then I really screamed.

   The woman was me, but it didn't look anything like me.  The white tunic
I was wearing that was bunched at my waist was actually a beautiful wedding
dress.  The hair was a blond wig stuck to my head.  And Ilona's makeup had
totally transformed me into an alluring woman.  Only if you looked closely
could you see my penis showing occasionally.

   The squat man was now at the end of his rope.  That is, he was pulling
it all the way out and pushing it all the way in.  I looked at the monitor
and saw a close up of it coming out, leaving a huge hole that tried to
close before his penis came back, but it was so wide that it could only
shut half way before the snake entered again.  I couldn't believe that huge
opening was mine, but I could definitely feel the agony every time he
pulled out.

   Now the man took one of my ankles in each hand and pulled my legs over
his shoulders.  Then he pushed forward, lifting my rear off the couch as he
continued to push in and out and pick up his pace.

   He was not only pushing his snake in, but he was also now bumping my
rear each time he pushed at me.  The bumps got faster and faster and the
springs in the couch responded by bumping me back up.  Between the bumps
from the man and the couch, I was like a bouncing ball out of control. 
Every time I slammed up into the man, the pain was so intense that I
shrieked, and then I shrieked again a second later, because as we flew
apart, it felt like my insides were being ripped out of me.

   Finally he slowed down and pulled out.  As he lifted me up, turned me
over and lifted my legs up so that I was on all fours, I was felt like a
wet mop that couldn't move.  He got behind me, and this time he quickly
touched bottom, and there was nothing to do but once again endure those
awful thrusts.

   He pulled out and turned me around on the huge couch, as big as a small
bed, and stood over me.  I looked at the monitor and saw him squatting down
over my ass and pushing his snake back into me.  Now he was going straight
up and down.  As he gradually increased his speed, the bumping began again.
This time, my entire body, up on all fours, was bouncing up and down
crazily as if I were on a trampoline.  I was in constant agony by this time
and hardly knew what was happening to me.

   As I thought to myself that soon this must end because he had to be
close to an orgasm, he grabbed me around the waist, fell back and pulled me
on top of him so I was impaled between his legs but facing away from him.
Then he swung himself around so that he was sitting on the couch facing the
lights.

   He tried for a moment to bounce on the couch to continue pushing in and
out, but my dead weight on top of him kept him from moving much.  Then he
grabbed me behind the knees and lifted me and rolled me back so that my
feet were on his thighs.  After they were planted there, he used his hands
to lift my rear up and until I was up in the air above him, with about five
inches of his snake pulled free.  Now he had the space to thrust, and he
really went to town from below me, moving lightning fast up and down.  I
was out of control and couldn't stop screaming.  Then he said his first
words to me, softly in a thick Hungarian accent: "Pull your cheeks apart."

   I didn't respond, either because I didn't want to or most likely because
I was so out if it, I didn't understand what he wanted.  Then he seemed to
turn on some extra energy because he was going even faster in and out of
me. I was frantic from the awful punishment to my insides.  He slowed down
again and repeated, "Pull your cheeks apart."

   This time I heard him clearly.  My hands were hanging down my sides, but
now I took my right hand and put it on my right cheek and my left hand on
the left and pulled the cheeks apart as much as I could while he continued
to pound in between.

   Suddenly, he grabbed me behind the knees and pulled me quickly back.  I
heard a loud gurgling, followed by a popping sound as he wrenched his thing
all the way out of me.  Some of the lubricant came out and dripped down
onto the couch.  In another second, he quickly lowered me back onto him and
was inside me and pounding away once more.  Then he again pulled me back
and I heard that loud pop again as he quickly came out.

   He continued to repeat this, and I was almost out of my mind from the
pain.  I saw us again on the monitor and once again saw the huge dark hole
he was opening between my cheeks.

   Then the unfamiliar march music started playing again, and he stopped. I
sat on his lap with him completely inside of me and tried to catch my
breath.  As the music got softer again, the formal voice of the announcer
said,

   "The princess's wedding night, part two.  The prince consummates his
marriage."

   As he spoke, a figure who had been watching me from the dark stepped
into the light.  It was the transformed Magda, and she had a smile on her
face.  But I didn't look at her face long, because my eye noticed something
new.  Her arms were hidden under the folds of her multilayered costume, but
sticking out from the place between her legs was a giant dildo.

   It was not like any dildo I had ever seen.  It was at least two feet
long and wider than a role of paper towels.  It was black and in the shape
of a man's penis.  But if this penis were forced into anyone, it would
split the person in two.

   I was so frightened that my scream caught in my throat as Magda walked
up to me and the squat man on the couch.  The huge dildo was at eye level.
Then the man grabbed me again by the thighs, lifted me up and began slowly
to push into and out of me.  As he did so, he said again, "Pull your cheeks
apart."

   I followed his instructions in a daze, and he went faster and faster for
30 seconds or so, and then once again he popped out of me, and more
lubricant escaped.  There must have been a gallon inside me.

   As he did, I saw the giant black dildo move, and I manged to scream in
my high squeal.  But the dildo didn't come toward me.  Instead, it seemed
to get wider and wider and then split in two.  I saw it was just a casing,
and inside were two slender bare arms and hands, Magda's.  Magda stepped
closer to my hole that was gradually getting smaller.  She stuck one of her
fingers inside, then a second, then a third.  I barely felt them until I
closed around them.  Then she pulled them slowly out and looked at her
fingers, greasy from all the lube inside me, and smiled at me.

   I didn't have time to respond, because the man was back inside of me and
pounding.  My hands were still pulling my cheeks apart and once again he
lifted me up.  I felt my hole was a huge open pit, and this time, Magda
quickly stuck four fingers inside.

   She began to push them rapidly in and out.  Then I saw her add her
thumb. After a minute of all the fingers going in and out, she stopped with
the five fingers inside me, and I felt them begin to press.  When the
second knuckles of her fingers entered me, my voice was almost gone, so my
screaming wasn't as loud.  The sound of me gasping for air was much louder.

   Then it started feeling like I was being ripped apart.  The fleshy part
of her hand below the thumb was being pushed into me, the widest part of
her hand.  I grunted and squirmed and squealed and then my breath went out
of me.  She was through.  Her hand had pushed into me all the way to the
wrist.

   She stopped and took some deep breaths.  Then she looked at me with her
special smile of satisfaction.  I recognized it from the way she looked
when she was telling me about some expensive house she had closed.  It was
a wide grin, from ear to ear.

   She watched my face as she started playing inside me.  I felt a painful
fluttering in my bowels.  She was moving her fingers around inside me. 
Then she started twisting the hand around slowly as I squirmed and
squealed. As she was twisting, she began to push a little again.

   Then she stopped twisting and just pushed softly but insistently
straight in.  Lubricant continued to squirt out around her arm as she
pushed it.  The elbow stopped her for a while, but she just continued to
push softly, and I saw the elbow go inside.  She kept pushing until her
bicep disappeared and she was in all the way to her shoulder.  Then she
stopped and gave me that special smile again.  I felt like I was about to
split in two.

   She leaned over toward my ear and whispered one word, "See?" It was as
if she were saying, "I told you I could do it." She could all right, but I
felt like she was pulling my guts out as she began pulling her arm out. 
Finally, the hand came out, along with a big gob of lubricant.  Then she
began pushing back again, not fast, but faster than before.  The hand
didn't need as much effort to get through this time although the violation
was still a shock.

   I was still sitting on the man's lap, and he had his arms around me. 
Magda was working her hand in and out.  Now Juliska came to the couch and
sat at my right facing me.  She grabbed some of the lubricant that had
leaked copiously all over the couch, bent down, grabbed my shriveled-up
member and began to stroke it.

   I was feeling so much pain that I didn't respond.  After a few minutes
of trying to stimulate my shriveled noodle, she left and came back in few
seconds with some kind of device that looked like a transparent suction cup
connected to a tube attached to a tiny machine.  She put the suction cup up
against the end of the shrunken noodle and turned on the machine.

   It was very quiet, and at first I thought nothing was happening.  Then I
felt a slight tug from the suction cup.  It was sucking me in very gently
and then releasing me.  I thought, this is never going to arouse me.  I
looked quizzically at Juliska, and she returned my look and whispered with
a smile, "Breast pump." Then I noticed my noodle was moving.  Even though
the suction was barely noticeable, I was starting to respond.

   This was despite Magda's hand, which was now moving in and out to the
same rhythm as the breast pump.  Though the pump made barely a sound, the
hand going in and out made a sucking sound.  My joystick was getting hard.
Magda looked at it and smiled.

   Next thing I knew I was ready to let loose and the sensations of forced
pleasure and forced discomfort increased at the same time.  My breath was
beginning to speed up.  "Not yet," said Magda, and Juliska took the suction
cup away.  My body tried to follow it, and then another wave of pain hit me
as Magda pulled her hand out of me.

   She took each of my slippery hands away from my cheeks and let them fall
to my side.  Then she hugged me with both hands around my back and pulled
me to her.  The squat man slid out from under me and walked away.

   Magda lowered me back onto the couch and knelt on a large pillow in
front of me, as if she was going to take the shriveled noodle into her
mouth.  Instead, she lifted my legs onto her shoulders and inserted one
finger inside me and started to move it slowly in and out.  Then she put in
a finger from the other hand and moved the fingers in and out together.

   I felt someone behind me grab my feet and pull them off Magda's
shoulders.  I turned my head slightly and saw it was Ilona, standing behind
the couch.  She was pulling my feet back over my shoulders and wide apart.
This caused me to slide on the lubricated couch until my rear was hanging
over the edge.  Then she locked an arm around each ankle and held me in
that position.

   Magda meanwhile added a second finger from each hand and then a third.
Six fingers were moving in and out as I felt Juliska's hand on my noodle
again.  She tried to arouse it but once again failed.  Back came the breast
pump and the gentle tugging.  By this time Magda had eight fingers going in
and out of me in the same slow rhythm with the breast pump.  Plop plop
squish squish and my panting were the only sounds as I was stretched wider
than before.

   When she saw my noodle becoming stiff again, Magda put her whole right
hand in, up to the wrist and pulled it out at the same rhythm as the four
fingers of the left hand and the pump.  I was getting ready to spurt and
breathing fast.

   Juliska quickly removed the pump, and for the first time I also felt
pain coming from my testicles as I drooped down again.  Magda kept going
with her hands and fingers, and I heard her laugh as she said, "Pull your
cheeks apart." I looked at her but didn't do anything.  She nodded to where
she was working on my body, and then her hand and fingers were speeding up.
I twisted frantically trying to find any position that was slightly less
agonizing, but I couldn't.

   "Pull your cheeks apart," she said again, and this time I did, and she
slowed to her previous rhythm.  Juliska's hand was on my noodle again. 
This time it responded slightly to her ministrations, but when it didn't
progress much, back came the pump.  It didn't take long to get me to full
attention this time, and as I was pulling my cheeks apart, Magda began
putting her left hand completely inside of me along with the right.  Now
both hands were going in and out together in time with the pump.

   Then the left hand stopped inside of me as the right hand came out. 
Then it came out as the other went in.  Magda was now pulling out and
pushing in at the same time.  I couldn't tell which was more painful, the
hands going in together or one hand pulling out while the other pushed in.

   As my breathing got faster, the pump was removed again.  Now Magda
changed her moves.  The left hand was still going in and out, but the right
hand was pushing in beyond the wrist.  Once again Juliska's hand was on me.
This time I sprang up immediately and she played with me by speeding up her
hand and then slowing it down.

   When Magda's right arm was in up to the elbow, she began to push the
left hand in too.  As she did, Juliska kept speeding up and slowing down,
bringing me to the edge and then stopping me.

   At last, both of Magda's arms were in me up to the elbow.  I couldn't
believe it.  Now Magda was twisting them around slowly because she could
barely move them.  My entire body was engulfed in pain, and I was frantic.

   It was so bad that I was astonished at how my member was responding to
Juliska's hand and how I was feeling the urgency of an orgasm building up
in my testicles.  Then Magda shifted so that instead of facing me, she was
facing more to the side.  Her arms inside of me pulled me around a little
as she did this.  Her head turned toward the lights and she smiled in that
direction.  I was facing that direction, too.

   Juliska stopped playing with me and leaned forward and whispered into my
right ear.  "Do it yourself," she said.

   "No, you do it," I said in my high, funny voice.

   But she didn't touch me again, and as I withered, I felt a stronger pain
in my testicles competing with the pain caused by Magda's arms inside me.
When I was down to a noodle, she brought the pump back, and within a few
seconds, I was fully aroused again and ready to explode.  But she quickly
turned it off and said, again, "Do it yourself."

   Again, I said, "No, you do it" and then shrieked as the pump was taken
off and the pain again kicked into my testicles.  When I was once more
shriveled up, she turned the pump back on and repeated the process.

   "Do it yourself," Juliska said again as she took a gob of the lubricant
that now coated the couch and put it in my hand.  This time I didn't wait
for the pain.  I put my hand around myself and started to stroke.  Magda
was trying to move both arms and breathing hard while facing the lights and
smiling.  I started to breathe hard, too.

   "Look up and smile," said Juliska.  I looked up quickly, but with the
urgent feeling in front and the anguish at my rear, all I could do was
pant, grimace and groan.  I heard the fast clicking of a professional
camera, snapping away at the same rhythm as my hand.  The lubricant
continued to ooze out of me as Magda slowly twisted her arms inside me. 
Snap, snap, snap, snap.  Pant, pant, pant, pant.  Squish, plop, squish,
plop.  The sounds were a perverted rhythm of pain and lust.

   Suddenly I felt I was about to come.  Juliska must have noticed
something, too, because she said, "High in the air." I aimed it high, and
when I exploded, it looked like a fountain spurting white cream.  I noticed
Juliska leaning in to Magda and me and smiling in the direction of the
lights along with Magda and the rapid sound of the camera taking pictures.

   I was finished in every way as I spurted my last drop, and Magda slowly
pulled out one of her arms and then the other.

   She left, and I was half carried to the dressing room by Juliska, Ilona
and the squat man.  They took off my dress and put my clothes back on.  I
felt as though my insides were mush as they walked me and Magda to a cab
that brought us back to the hotel, where I collapsed onto the bed and slept
a troubled sleep.  In the morning I could barely take a shower or move in
any way without feeling tremendous pain in my rear.

   Magda and I barely talked on the way to the airport or during the
flight. At home, we pretended like nothing happened, although the pain
lasted more than two weeks, and the kids must have been wondering about the
way I walked.  The next Saturday, when the kids were out of the house, a
package arrived from Budapest, and Magda eagerly opened it.  There was a
DVD inside, a note to her from Juliska and a photo for me.  The photo was
in a cardboard frame, embossed with the title "Souvenir of Budapest." It
was a picture of a man dressed as a woman sitting on a couch with a woman
dressed as a man in front of him, smiling.  Both her hands are up to her
elbows inside him.  The man is holding his member, which is spurting up in
the air like a fountain.  There's another woman behind him, leaning over
with her face next to his.  She's smiling, too.  The man's face is twisted
in agony.  No one could tell who they were, but I knew.

   I ripped the photo into shreds and yelled at Magda, "Please tell me what
in the hell is this all about."

   She smiled her mischievous smile.  "Baby, I just wanted to add a little
spice to our life," she said.  "Remember the night when I was angry about
you being scared to try something new?  When I got to my computer, there
was a message from Juli telling me she had just gone to work for a website
called teachmetofistmyboyfriend.com.  She said they got young Hungarian
couples and young tourists to do videos for the site, so I went and looked
at what they were doing.  That's when I came up with my idea.  Juli said
they weren't too eager when I told them how much we would have to be
disguised so that nobody would know who we were, but I promised them that
I'd write a special story that people would love to see.  And I was right.
It's the most popular video on the site.  They sent me a copy of the edited
version on the DVD, as well as all the original footage and still photos.

   "But best of all, look at this." She reached into the bottom of the box
and pulled out a money order.  "They think they're going to make so much
money on this that they're paying us $20,000 for our work, more than triple
what they usually pay.  Our whole trip to Hungary is paid for, and we have
enough for the next trip."

   "There's not going to be a next trip," I yelled.  "I'm never again going
anywhere where you know the language and I don't.  And I don't ever want to
hear about this again or want you to tell anyone else."

   "Of course, I won't tell anyone," said Magda.  "Now that I know for sure
that you aren't into this kind of thing, we'll never discuss it again." She
winced when I broke the DVD in two, but I'm certain she received another
copy from Juliska.

   We still have a good marriage and a good love life.  I try to respond
when she wants to do something unusual, and we vary things a lot more than
we ever did.  But sometimes she just goes too far.

   When she does, we don't fight about it.  She usually says, "I'm going to
go to my office and do email or maybe watch some video." I've never asked
her what video she's going to watch because I don't want to know the
answer.

   One thing still concerns me.  One day four years after our vacation, she
proudly mentioned that our video is still the favorite one on
teachmetofistmyboyfriend.com, and women from all over the world were
downloading it.  Maybe this is why every once in a while I meet a woman who
looks closely at me and says, "Haven't we met?"

   I'm not too worried about that, because no one could ever recognize me
through the disguise.  What worries me is that unusual birth mark of
Magda's.  It's tiny but distinctive and is on her left thigh, right where
it meets her pubic hair.  Unless I pull her bush aside, it usually can't be
seen.  She told me one night that it shows up for a fraction of a second in
the online version of the video, but she had to go back and forth slowly a
few times to make sure she actually saw it.

   The trouble is that Magda's still proud of her figure, and she works out
regularly at a health club near us.  I told her that I've seen her secret
mark sometimes when she gets out of the shower at home and dries herself. I
made her promise to never shower at the club, but sometimes, when she's in
a hurry to get to a closing, she forgets her promise.

   Last week, she told me she met a nice woman at the health club and we're
going out for dinner with her and her husband.  I didn't mention my
thoughts to Magda, because she'd tell me I'm paranoid, and I know that the
odds are infinitesimal that this new friend saw the video, saw Magda taking
a shower, saw the mark and put it all together.  But still...  

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