From: archive@croydon.dartmouth.edu (CNR Archive)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: CNR: Wife (Fm,wife,nc,twiste)
Date: 19 Oct 1995 19:46:13 GMT
Organization: Croydon Network Research at Dartmouth College
Message-ID: <4669u5$3r0@dartvax.dartmouth.edu>

Files from the CNR Archive/Disclaimer:

I did not write these stories, but have archived them from public newsgroups, 

mailing lists, or network servers. Where possible, attribution to the original

author has been maintained.



All of these stories are of adult nature, and may not be viewed by children

under the age of 18, or where they are prohititted by law. Some of these 

stories are extremely explicit -- containing graphic descriptions of illegal

or immoral activities, such as incest or violence -- and may not be appropriate 

for some adults. If you don't like that sort of thing, don't read them.



Don't bother mailing me for reposts, with comments, etc; if the author left

an address, mail them if you like.



<Scroll down to start reading.. 

 if you're offended by this sort of thing, 

 or a minor, exit now...>













-----





                       WIFE   (In 6 parts)



                           Part 1







     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 outcome of the game still 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.  







XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX





     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 bra, 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,



                         Linda





     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.





================================================================



                        



                         Part 2



   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.



     "Peter?"



     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 an eyebrow.



      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:



XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX







     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 forced 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 forced

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.





XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX





     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.







===================================================================



                          Part 3



     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.







XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX



     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 embarassed 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.  







=================================================================



                           Part 4







     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

exposed, and that I am in control.  How does all this make you

feel?  Are you aroused, Linda?"



     "Yes."



     "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?"



     "Yes."



     "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?"



     Silence.



     "Linda?"



     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 forced 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.  



=================================================================







                           Part 5



     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 that 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 escort

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..."







================================================================



                         Part 6 (Conclusion)





     "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.  





xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx







     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 (I noticed she sat down a little gingerly).  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 precedent.  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.  "So this is a

COMPETITION?  I see.  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....

              xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



                       End of WIFE









