A Lesson For Melissa

By Buckaroo Bonzai

It had been a hard day at work. Between the boss demanding 
constant revisions on every proposal, and the secretaries 
sniping at each other over slights and insults imagined and 
real, I was definitely ready for a few hours alone with my 
wife Melissa. In fact, on my way to her office, I had 
carefully planned and arranged the perfect evening. 

First, reservations at a nearby seafood restaurant. 
Followed by an after-dinner Margarita at the best Mexican 
restaurant in town. Margaritas always had a stimulating 
effect on both of us, lowering our inhibitions quite 
dramatically. And finally, a quick ride home for some down-
and-dirty animalistic sex. And depending on how loopy the 
drinks made us, we might not make it out of the garage 
before we started. 

That's how I imagined the evening.

As I pulled into the parking lot I noticed that Melissa's 
light was the only one on in the building. But that wasn't 
unusual. Most of the building was devoted to an 
architectural firm, whose employees cleared out religiously 
at five o'clock and who presumably did the rest of their 
work at home. If they were anything like me, all they took 
back to work in the morning was a lot of good intentions 
gone wrong. Anyway, at 8:30, it wasn't unusual to see there 
were only two cars in the parking lot. 

Melissa didn't have the "freedom" to bring her work home 
with her. She worked the off-shift at a television 
production studio. Most of the time, she was busy producing 
videos and inexpensive TV commercials for small businesses 
in the area. But two nights a week, and during other off 
times, the owner made a few extra dollars teaching TV 
production to the good citizens of the city. The city cable 
company paid for it, in lieu of a "public access" studio, 
which they claimed was too expensive to offer. And as low 
person on the totem pole, Melissa spent a lot of time doing 
the teaching.

Walking into the building, I hoped that Melissa had worn 
decent clothes, as the seafood restaurant had a a bit of a 
dress code. I remebered seeing a nice outfit layed out on 
the chair in the morning; as her shift started later than 
mine, she often slept in while I showered and got ready for 
work. But production is a hot and dirty business, and I'd 
be willing to bet that she had on the usual: jeans and a 
tube top, covered by a fairly see-through open blouse, tied 
in a knot in the front. 

Usually that outfit never fails to turn me on, because it 
accentuates her hourglass figure, especially with the top 
cradling her luscious breasts. Melissa could've been a 
little slimmer, but at 6-foot tall, I think she's pretty 
well proportioned. Her legs are fairly long, and her butt 
is nicely rounded and firm. But actually the most stunning 
part of her body are her dazzling green eyes. I call them 
mood eyes, because they subtly shift colors as her moods 
change. Her soft-red hair helps frame her face, and really 
draws attention to her eyes. Her face has a bit of an 
aristocratic look to it, but when she smiles you feel like 
the sun just came out. And when she kisses you, anywhere, 
she can do amazing things with her lips. 

Today, however, I was hoping she wore something nice, 
because with her "production" outfit, because then we'd 
have to go straight to the Mexican restaurant. And, quite 
frankly, with too many Margaritas in us, our lovemaking 
usually was explosive, but short.

Upon entering the outer office, I immediately noticed three 
book bags dropped by the desk. That would mean the Three 
Waynes were in, as Melissa had dubbed them. A sixteen year 
old and two seventeen year olds, they thought that "Wayne's 
World" was typical of TV production, and wanted to start 
their own show. 

Since the production door was closed, and the TV remote was 
nowhere to be found, I wandered into the control room 
through the office door. Though there's a window to the 
studio, it's usually blocked by a flat or light or 
something, as was the case today. Unlike the control rooms 
shown on TV or in the movies, this one had no other windows 
to the studio, except for a small window in the door, which 
was covered by a small door. The door kept light from the 
control room from entering the studio, or vice versa, 
depending upon the production needs. I opened the small 
door, and looked inside to the one of the Three Waynes hand 
Melissa a large, brown envelope, while the others looked 
on.

Needing to know how long this confab was going to take, I 
flipped on the audio switch for the studio. 

"Where...where did you get these?" I heard Melissa say, 
with a break in her voice. Hearing her so distraught, I 
quickly moved over to the peekhole, where I saw Melissa 
looking at several pieces of paper on the desk of the set. 
The Waynes were crowded around the opposite side, 
occasionally pointing at a piece on the desk, and then 
looking at her. Their body language and eyes communicated 
one thing: predators.

"Well, that's a short but interesting story," the first guy 
said, who I immediately dubbed "Smoothy." He picked up one 
of the papers, and I could tell it was a photograph, though 
I couldn't make out what was on it. "A few weeks ago, we 
got here a little early, and went down to the caf for a few 
munchies. Just as we were about to turn the corner, we saw 
this guy come out, tuckin' his shirt in and zippin his 
pants. And not three or four steps after him, you come out, 
zippin' up your jeans. Well, it don't take a genius to 
figure out what you were doin'. But we figured he was your 
old man."

He paused in his story to push the picture in her face, and 
then continued. "The next week we tried to get here early, 
so we could, you know, observe and learn, as you like to 
say. But you guys had already started, so the three of us 
just took turns lookin' through the door. And I'll tell ya, 
you guys must really be into it, cuz we made all kinds of 
noise and you didn't hear us."

By this time, Melissa was slumped in a chair, her hair 
hanging down and hiding her face. As for me, I was either 
in shock or fascinated, I still haven't figured out which. 

"That's the week you put up that new picture of you and 
your husband, and we figured out you weren't keeping it all 
in the family, so to speak. So me and the guys made a 
little plan, and we got here really early the next week. We 
hid in that little utility closet in the caf, and taped the 
door so it wouldn't lock, in case you decided to close it. 
Not that there was any chance of that!"

"Yeah!" piped in the one standing behind Melissa, who I 
immediately dubbed "Punk." "Man! It was great how you 
immediately dropped to your knees and started givin' that 
guy a blow job. But then, the way you ripped off your top 
and had him suck your titties, I guess you were feelin' 
pretty hot."

The third guy, the "Shy Guy," just looked from the pictures 
to Melissa and back again, a barely repressed hunger in his 
eyes.

"And, unfortunately for you, I got a 35 mm camera for 
Christmas, with a top of the line lense," stated Smoothy. 
"And he," nodding to Shy Guy, "does the processing for the 
school paper. So we had no trouble getting the film 
developed.

"Which brings us to the question of what we're going to do 
about all this."

That statement definitely sparked some interest in Melissa. 
"What're you going to do with those pictures?"

"Well, you were cheating on your husband, and pretty 
regularly too. How long did you say you've been at this?"

Melissa just mumbled.

"How long?" Smoothy demanded this time.

"About six months," she responded, looking miserable about 
it. 

As for me, that statement should have been my cue to rush 
in for the kill. But the predatory air, an overwhelming 
need for revenge and curiousity combined to stay me. I'd 
let her suffer at the hands of these kids for a while.

"At first, we thought we'd just send these pictures to your 
husband," Smoothy started slyly.

"No! Don't!" Melissa exclaimed, drawing herself up to her 
full six feet. But Smoothy just stared her down. "But us 
guys," he gestured around him, "gotta stick together. And I 
think he'd thank us for teaching you a lesson." By now his 
speech had taken on a rehearsed tone, but it didn't look as 
if Melissa had noticed.

"What kind of a lesson?" she asked suspiciously. 

"Oh, the best kind," he said, picking all the pictures up 
from the desk. "But it's not an 'observe and learn' kind of 
lesson. It's do or die." He pushed one of the pictures in 
front of her face. Notice that in all these pictures, you 
can see your face clearly. This one with your tongue 
licking that guy's balls: your face. This one with his cock 
between your tits: your face. This one with your legs 
spread for him: your face. 

"If we gave these to your husband, I don't think there'd be 
any doubt that this was you." He smiled triumphantly.

"Please don't give those to him..." She was pleading now. 

He circled around her, like a wolf over his prey. "We'll 
give them to you," he offered, playing it out. "In 
exchange..."

"Exchange for what?" she asked, already knowing and already 
defeated.

"In exchange for what you gave this guy, that's what." 
Holding the pictures in front of her, he continued, "Here's 
what we propose. You become our sex slave. In exchange for 
these pictures. There's 12 pictures, and three of us. 
That's four apiece. You make each of us cum four times, and 
we give you a picture for each one. That's one orgasm for 
each picture. Not one for each fuck. The cum's gotta spurt 
before you get the picture."

"No. No way. I'm not gonna do that," Melissa answered. "I'm 
just gonna tell him, tonight. We'll get through it."

Smoothy's voice took on a sneering tone. "You're gonna tell 
him that you've been fuckin' some other guy for six months. 
Fine. Do that. We'll still send him some of the pictures. 
And we'll take the rest and spread them all over town. 
He'll dump you. And you'll have to leave town."

"You don't know where we live," Melissa tried desperately. 

With that, Punk pulled out a paper and read off our 
address. For good measure, he read off my work address too. 
Looking at all of them through the peekhole, I could see 
the triumph in Smoothy's eyes, and the lust in Punk. The 
Shy Guy stood off a bit, but it was obvious from the bulge 
in his pants that he was more than intrigued. Melissa 
looked pretty well defeated, but I could see from her 
posture that she was trying to summon up a little 
resistance. But Smoothy beat her to the punch.

"There is another part to the bargain," he said, as 
Melissa's eyes blazed. "Just a small thing. You won't even 
have to do anything," he continued, teasing her. "Think of 
it as part of your job, as part of our final exam. What we 
want to do is film you as you let us fuck you, and then 
we'll edit it together for our own private porn flick. Now, 
you don't have to worry," he said, heading off her protest, 
"We'll just keep the film for our own use, just the three 
of us." The other two guys stood nodding their heads. "And 
in exchange we'll give you the other 12 pictures that were 
in the roll."

He handed Melissa some pictures from his back pocket. "You 
can't clearly see your face, but I'm sure your husband 
would know you from your body."

With that I could see her resistance totally crumble. She 
dropped the pictures on the desk and looked around at them. 
Just 16 and 17, they'd maneuvered her into a corner. Of 
course, it was a predicament of her own making. 

She looked for any loopholes. 

"If I do this, I get the negatives too?" 

"You may have to do something special for the negatives," 
Smoothy replied, enjoying his victory. "But yes, you get 
all the negatives."

"And how long does this thing last? I don't want this going 
on for weeks and weeks."

"Ha! Six months with that other guy!" Punk interrupted. 

"Shut up, I'm handling this! Now, I think we can have this 
wrapped up in three weeks...counting tonight."

"Tonight?" Melissa squeaked. "Starting tonight???"

"We'll do it just like you taught us, Liss. Here's my 
production schedule. Tonight we want to check out the 
talent. You know, do a little rehearsal. Next week we'll 
reserve the studio from 6 to 9, and do the shooting. You'll 
have each of us twice. Right guys? Then the next week we 
schedule a 3-hour edit, with a little break for, say, 
'inspiration.' Or maybe to get some B-roll shots. Then we 
walk off with our tapes, you have all the pictures, and we 
never see each other again. We learn how to shoot, and you 
learn why you shouldn't be cheating."

"I already know why."

"But this way you'll remember it. So, what's it gonna be? 
The 'honorable' way out, or total humiliation?"

She slumped down in the chair, looked one more time at the 
pictures on the desk, and mumbled "Ok."

Everyone in the room stood still for a moment, and I put my 
hand on the doorknob, ready to burst in and put a stop to 
it. But then I realized that this might just be the 
punishment she needed. Knowing my personality, I wouldn't 
rest until I got revenge. Or at least made her suffer for 
her transgression. So I could have an affair just to get 
even. But that didn't really turn me on as much as the 
thought of three young bucks being with her. We'd talked 
about. I even urged her to pick up a guy one evening, but 
she chickened out before anything happened. So...

So I paused again, my hand on the doorknob, my cock 
throbbing in my pants, and my eyes glued to the peekhole.

In the studio, Smoothy moved around the chair until he was 
standing behind my wife. As he placed his hands on her 
shoulders, she took a deep breath in and held it. Slowly, 
his hands slid down, until they were over her tits, and 
then under them, caressing and supporting them. With his 
head down next to her ear, he spoke loud enough for all to 
hear, "Part of the game is you have to participate. You 
have to sound and act like you're having fun. If we don't 
have fun, then we don't cum. And then, no pictures for you. 
Understand?"

Melissa nodded, letting her breath out slowly.

"Now let's see what we've got here," Smoothy said, lust 
creeping into his voice. "Before we came in, we drew 
numbers to see who would get you first. Yes, we knew you'd 
go for it. You have to. And I won. Next is Thomas," nodding 
to Shy Guy, "and Mark," nodding to Punk. "I have to get you 
ready for Thomas, cuz it's gonna be his first time."

Shy Guy turned away, giving a quick tug at his groin. 

"Stand up," Smoothy demanded, his hands never leaving her 
tits. Even from the peekhole I could see her nipples were 
hard. Smoothy stood behind her, his hands possessively 
roaming her chest, pausing to fondle her nipples through 
the cloth, cup each tit, and then slide down her flat 
stomach to the tops of her jeans. Briefly he pulled her 
close to grind his bulge against her ass, before seeming to 
get control of himself. Whether he could instinctively 
sense it, or just wanted to prolong the inevitable, Melissa 
reacts quite passionately to foreplay. In other 
circumstances, she would've been all over him by now. 

Smoothy walked around in front of her and deftly untied the 
knot in her blouse, then smoothly pushed it off her 
shoulders. Placing his hands on her bare shoulders, he 
leaned forward for a kiss.

"No!" she cried, stepping back. "No kissing. That's not 
part of the deal, and it's not negotiable!" 

Smoothy looked about to object, but thought better of it. 
Turning to his friends, he winked and said, "That's OK. 
I've got something else for you to kiss."

He turned back to her, his hands now squeezing and 
twiddling with her nipples, which were quite clearly erect 
under the cloth. He reached down and pulled her top out of 
her jeans, then stepped around behind her and whispered in 
her ear. With that, she reached down and pulled her top 
over her head, letting it fall to the floor. Her beautiful 
C-cups stared out at the boys, the nipples rosey pink and 
hard as rocks. Melissa's tits are firm enough that they 
barely sway, and she easily passes the pencil test. 

Obviously parroting the words Smoothy was whispering in her 
ear, she announced to Punk and Shy Guy, "Gentlemen. My tits 
are your's to use and enjoy. I wanna feel your tongue on 
them. I wanna rub them up and down your body. I wanna feel 
your cock between them. And when you cum, cum all over 
them, so they stay smooth and soft. They're your tits, 
now."

Still standing behind her, his hands finally left her tits, 
and began to journey down her midriff to her jeans. 
Reaching around her, he unsnapped the top button, and 
slowly unzipped the fly. His hand briefly slid inside her 
jeans as he whispered more instructions to her. 

Obediently she turned in his arms, and grasping her jeans, 
she tugged them down over her hips, while he stepped back 
to admire the view. Bent over, with her firm ass facing 
towards the three of them, and me, she pushed her jeans to 
the floor, and then kicked out of them. As per her 
instructions, she maintained this position, and I could see 
that her panties had risen up into her butt crack, 
revealing her smooth, well-rounded cheeks. From this angle, 
I could also see her tits hanging provacatively down, and I 
wasn't surprised to see Smoothy step over and give them 
another tweak.

Finally, he had her stand again, and he resumed his 
position behind her, alternating between squeezing her 
breasts and running his hands over the outside of her 
panties. Evidently Melissa had expected me that evening, 
because she was wearing her "fuck me" panties: see-through 
enough to make out every pubic hair, with just a discreet 
panel covering the mound. And because she wore them fairly 
tight, you could easily see the outlines of her pussy lips.

Smoothy continued to erotically tantalize his audience of 
two, heightening their desire, his own, and though he 
didn't know it, mine too. With Smoothy whispering in her 
ear, Melissa then announced, "My mouth is your's to use. I 
wanna suck your dick, and I'll kiss or lick you anywhere. 
And when you cum in my mouth, I promise I'll swallow every 
bit of it." She looked a bit disgusted by the prospect, but 
when Smoothy put his finger in her mouth, she obediently 
sucked and licked at it.

By this time, Smoothy's demonstration of power had taken on 
an almost ceremonial feel. Everyone looked on, mesmerized, 
the bulges in their jeans revealing just how hooked they 
were. My own cock was throbbing incessantly, so much that I 
undid my own pants and freed it through the slit in my 
underwear. Quite frankly, any thought of stopping this was 
gone now.

Smoothy's hands now wandered freely over my wife's body, 
often pausing to rub the silkiness of her panties. Then, 
after pulling her closer, he slid his right hand under the 
thin fabric, pushing into her nest of soft pubic hair. The 
fabric clearly revealed his white fingers against her dark 
hair, the tip of his longest finger resting just above her 
slit. He played with her hair momentarily, relishing his 
position of power.

A few more whispered words, and she quickly tugged her 
panties down, revealing to the young men their sexual 
prize. Involuntarily, her hands went down to shield her 
sex, but Smoothy quickly stepped up and pulled them away. 
Taking her by the arm, he had her sit on the edge of the 
desk. And leaning over her once more, he placed his hand 
back in her thicket of pubic hair, this time with his 
fingers covering the entrance to her pussy. After a few 
whispers with no action from Melissa, he ordered, "Spread 
your legs."

Meekly she opened her legs, offering Shy Guy and Punk a 
peek at her sex that was only somewhat obstructed by 
Smoothy's fingers. As he whispered to her, she whispered to 
them, "My pussy is your's to use however you want. I want 
your dick inside me, fucking me as long as you want. You 
can take me any way you want." Voice trembling, she 
continued, "Eat me. Fuck me. Whatever you want. I'm your 
slave for the next three weeks. I want to make you cum 
inside me. I'm your's." And with that, he quickly plunged 
his middle finger deep inside her cunt, burying it to the 
hilt. She gasped at this invasion, as Punk yelled, "Yes!" 
and slapped a high five with Shy Guy. 

Smoothy then brought his finger, wet with her pussy juices, 
right to her lips, and ordered her to suck it, which she 
did with only a moment's hesitation. That seemed to break 
the ceremonial mood, with Smoothy saying, "Now it's your 
turn to give me what you gave your lover, Liss."



At his orders, Melissa retrieved her jeans from where she 
had kicked them, and folded them into a neat packet. 
Smoothy ordered her to kneel on the jeans, her head level 
with his crotch. As he played with her hair, Punk and Shy 
Guy scrambled to move their chairs to a better vantage 
point. Fortunately, I still had a clear view of all the 
proceedings. 

With Smoothy instructing her every step of the way, Melissa 
tentatively unsnapped his jeans and pulled down the zipper. 
She then tugged the jeans down, revealing a tight pair of 
jockey shorts. Even from my vantage point across the room, 
I could clearly see the hard head of his cock outlined 
through the fabric. Melissa just stared at it as Smoothy 
kicked off his shoes and then the jeans. After removing his 
shirt and socks, my wife ran her hands up his legs until 
she was grasping the sides of his jockeys. He pulled her 
face forward, and she nibbled and licked his cock through 
the fabric, which looked wet with pre-cum. 

Finally, he had her pull his jockeys off, leaving his cock 
to swing free in front of her face. Holding his cock in one 
hand, and her head with the other, he issued a 
proclamation, "From now on, before we start a session, you 
must kiss our dicks to show that you are our slave, and we 
are your masters. So kiss it. French kiss it. And make it a 
good one."

Guided by his hand, Melissa lowered her mouth onto the head 
of his cock. Briefly he held her in that position, 
presumably so his audience would be sure to see. Then, he 
thrust his cock deep into her mouth, and began to stroke in 
and out. After about 20 strokes, he pulled out of her 
mouth, and had her lick from his balls up to the tip of his 
shaft. With her hand wrapped around his shaft, I was able 
to estimate that he was about an inch longer than me, or 
about 7". It was easy to compare, as I had my own cock out 
and was softly stroking it, immensly turned on by this 
scene of another guy forcing my wife to suck him.

Considering the intense foreplay, the fact that Smoothy 
lasted more than one minute in Melissa's mouth was amazing 
to me. But then, he started stroking into her mouth again, 
and with a loud groan he launched his load into her mouth. 
I could tell that she didn't want to swallow it, but 
quickly changed her mind as he spasmed again and again into 
her. However, he continued to stroke in and out, making her 
gasp for air and open her mouth, allowing a large 
tablespoonful of cum to spill out. Before she could wipe it 
off, it dripped off her chin to land on her left tit, 
leaving a glistening trail before falling off onto her 
knees.

Smoothy pulled himself out, his cock just beginning to 
limpen. Melissa made as if to stand, but he pulled her face 
back down to his groin.

"You don't expect me to go home all slimy, do you?" he said 
to her. "Lick that cum off or I'll wipe it in your hair."

Melissa bent to the task, her agile tongue finding every 
drop of cum, even the stuff that had dripped underneath his 
balls. By the time she was done, he had become hard again, 
and obviously sensing an opportunity to make him cum again, 
she squeezed his shaft between her tongue and lips, 
stroking it up and down. I think he would have gone for it 
too, but Shy Guy whispered in his ear, and he abruptly 
pulled his dick away.

"Oh, no you don't. You're not going to get me today when I 
have so many things planned for you next week. Let's just 
get you set up for my man here."

'Getting set up' evidently meant clearing room on the floor 
so Shy Guy could fuck my wife. Once the desk was moved, 
Melissa knelt before Shy Guy, stripping off his shoes, 
socks and pants. He too was wearing jockeys, and the bulge 
was very pronounced. As Shy Guy stood there trembling, 
Melissa slowly drew down his underwear, and then gaped in 
amazement. Shy Guy's dick, still only about three-quarters 
erect, probably measured about 9" long, and seemed very 
thick.

After kissing the head as Smoothy instructed her to do, Shy 
Guy's dick extended to its full length, the throbbing veins 
recognizable even from my spot at the control room door. 
Melissa would have sucked him off then and there, but 
suddenly Shy Guy took control of the situation, directing 
her to lie down face-up on the carpeting. He crawled on top 
of her, and spent a few moments reverently, and then 
passionately, kissing and caressing her tits. 

Then, as if he couldn't take it anymore, he explosively 
plunged his cock down at her. Unfortunately, he missed her 
hole by a few inches, and nearly bent his dick in half. 
Evidently taking pity on him, Melissa reached down and 
directed his dick into her waiting pussy. Again he dropped 
down hard on her, and this time his humongous cock plunged 
down inside her, burying itself deeply. Melissa spread her 
legs farther apart, and raised them slightly, probably 
because he was so big. I don't think she ever had any guy 
so large before. This guy seemed bigger and harder than the 
dildo we played with sometimes.

Within a few strokes, it was over for him. He shuddered and 
gave out a keening sound as he shot his load deep in my 
wife's cunt. Like Smoothy had, he too continued to stroke 
in and out, perhaps savoring the sensation of her tight 
pussy on his sensitive skin. Finally he pulled out, not 
limp in the least. His cock was covered in a mixture of his 
cum and her juices, and he crawled up her body to leave it 
swinging in front of her lips, ready to be cleaned. Again 
she put her lips and tongue to work, and within a minute 
his cock was clean, from head to base. And she'd given his 
substantial balls a clean licking, too.

It was over for me, too, because as soon as he had plunged 
his monster cock into my wife's pussy, I couldn't stop my 
own orgasm. Pumping my cock furiously, I spurted cum all 
over the control room door, and then had to clean it up 
with my handkerchief. But unlike the youngsters in the next 
room, I knew I wouldn't be ready for another round for 
about an hour. Ah, the advantages of youth.

As I expected, Punk Kid was quick and direct in his sexual 
needs. As Melissa was tongue-cleaning Shy Guy's cock, he'd 
been taking off his clothes, grinning in anticipation. Now 
he kneeled, naked, straddling her chest, with his dick 
pointing straight out, almost touching my wife's lips.

"I'm gonna get me a little bit of everything tonight," he 
declared, leaning over so she could kiss the head. He 
leaned back, twiddling her nipple with one hand while the 
other sought out her steaming, wet cunt. He laughed as she 
squirmed with instinctive pleasure. "Seems a little damp in 
there," he grinned, pulling his fingers out and making her 
lick them. "So I guess I won't be doing any muff diving 
today. But next week, make sure you clean yourself out 
good. Nothin' I like better than a little mustache ride!" 

He waggled his dick in front of her mouth, gesturing for 
her to take it. It was unexceptional, of average length and 
circumference. What was unusual was the size of his balls; 
a little larger than golf balls. I got the feeling that 
when it was time to cum, Melissa had better have an 
umbrella. 

After allowing her to suck on him for awhile, he crawled 
back down her body and inserted himself into her pussy with 
a sigh. There he pumped away, while Smoothy and Shy Guy 
watched with interest, both of them stroking their cocks. 
Evidently, Punk Kid had cum recently, as he lasted much 
longer than the other two. But within five minutes he had 
her kneeling before him, her tongue laving the tip of his 
cock while her hands squeezed his balls. And suddenly he 
was pumping at himself with one hand, while positioning her 
with the other to catch his wad in her mouth.

When he came, it was like a never-ending fountain. And 
although the first spurt went right in her mouth, the next 
six spurts splashed all over...on her face, against her 
neck, in her hair, and on her breasts. She looked like six 
guys had unloaded right on her, instead of just one.

She sat there somewhat shocked, but at his gesture, she 
dutifully cleaned his dick with her mouth. Then, at 
Smoothy's orders, she scooped up all the cum from her body, 
and licked it off her fingers, while all three of them 
stroked their dicks. They all looked like they were within 
seconds of cumming again, but didn't, perhaps for fear that 
it might count against them. 

With a defeated air, Melissa began gathering up her 
clothes, but Smoothy stopper her with a wave of his hand. 
"Before we leave, you need to give us a goodbye kiss, if 
you know what I mean." 

Melissa then bent down in front of each of them, kissing 
their proffered dicks as they stroked and kneaded her 
breasts. Finally it seemed as if they were done for the 
night, and I was just making my way to the door when 
Smoothy began giving more instructions to my wife.

"Now just like you taught us, Liss, we've figured out how 
we want the set and lighting for the shoot next week. I'll 
be bringing over a blow-up bed the day before, and I'll 
expect you to have it inflated when we arrive. Keep the 
desk on the set, and we'll need one of those secretarial 
chairs without the arms. We'll use the overhead studio 
lights, but we'll probably want a portable ready to go. 
We'll be using the two studio cameras, and one of us will 
be in the control room directing and selecting shots.

"Now, you'll need to bring a sexy outfit. Do you have any 
thatare super hot?"

Melissa shook her head, a blatant lie, as I usually bought 
her something sexy every holiday. 

"That's OK," said Smoothy. "I'll bring something when I 
bring the bed, and you can be wearing it when we come, so 
to speak. One other thing. I think you'll be getting pretty 
sticky, so you might want to break your own rule and bring 
some water, rags and cups into the studio. That door will 
stay locked until all of us have cum three times, like we 
agreed."

With that, he handed her three of the pictures from the 
pack, which she quickly stuffed into her jeans pocket. 
While they were all dressing, I took the opportunity to 
leave, already beginning to plan my attendance at the fuck 
and suck show the next week.






