Triad
By Gato Medio

Sixth Chapter: Another Round of Poker

"Good morning, darling. Today, I'm your breakfast. How
would you like me?"

Cathy had woken up before me and there was no sign of
Helen.

"Sunny side up," I said after having studied Cathy's
marvelous body for a while. She immediately understood my
allusion and draped herself across my lap to make her
bottom easily accessible to my hand.

I had watched Cathy being spanked by my four friends the
previous evening, but had refrained from joining in
because I thought that four rounds of spanking were more
than enough. Cathy had had some time to recover and
apparently she was keen on feeling my hand on her bottom.

The only other time I had ever spanked a woman was when I
wanted to teach Helen a lesson. At that time, I had
really felt that Helen deserved to be punished and I had
treated her pretty harshly - at least that's what I
thought.

But now I was in a much more playful mood. I had no
longer any reason to want to punish Cathy - on the
contrary. She had been the key player in an evening I was
sure I would never forget. Nevertheless, I was attracted
to the idea of turning her cheeks, which had returned to
their natural pale color, a dark shade of pink again.

I rubbed her bottom gently. Cathy swooned with delight
and pushed her rear up against my hand, as if she were
demanding a firmer touch. Then, when I thought she least
expected it, I slapped her cheeks, but without putting a
lot of strength into the blow. Cathy didn't remain as
quiet as she had been the evening before. She gasped and
shrieked when my hand made contact and giggled when it
slid down between her cheeks and played with her pussy.
It seemed that for Cathy having her bottom spanked had
turned into a new, exciting form of foreplay.

We had been enjoying ourselves for a while, and I started
thinking about taking the fun a little further when Helen
arrived with our breakfast. She was dressed in a black
body stocking which clung to her body like a second skin.

'Everything is covered, but nothing is hidden,' I thought
immediately. It didn't take skilled eyes like mine to
detect every curve, every mountain and every valley. The
garment adjusted instantly to every movement of her lithe
body. The term cat-suit came to my mind. The only parts
which weren't covered were her hands, her face and her
neck.

Helen is of slim build and she isn't particularly tall,
but with this outfit she turned into a commanding figure,
someone who is to be obeyed. Her attire turned Helen into
a figure of authority. Looking at her made me think of
practitioners of some martial arts with their ascetic
costumes and ritualistic movements.

But there was also something extremely frustrating about
this suit. I knew that touching her through the textile
would be almost as pleasurable as touching her naked
body, but, somehow, the garment made it clear that we
weren't supposed to touch her. She seemed to become less
and less accessible.

Helen's behavior towards us hadn't changed, though. She
apologized for the delay in the breakfast service as she
placed the trays on our night tables.

"I've been on the phone to Australia," she explained.
"Because of the time difference, I have to call people
early in the morning to catch them before they go to
bed."

Helen also told us that she had already taken care of the
mess we had left behind, put the leftovers into the
fridge and the glasses into the dishwasher. "I also
washed the tablecloth, but I don't know if that stain
Cathy left behind will disappear completely." She sounded
like a perfect housekeeper, and there was a hint of
disapproval in her voice when she talked about Cathy
letting her juices leak onto the tablecloth.

"Don't you feel any regrets about what you did last
night?" Helen asked while Cathy and I were devouring our
breakfast.

The question took me by surprise. Helen almost sounded
like a guardian of moral standards. Why would she
disapprove of our behavior? Everything had happened
exactly as we had jointly planned. Or did she disapprove
of the fact that Cathy had gotten so much enjoyment out
of flashing her pussy at my friends, letting them feel
her up, and finally getting spanked by them? Was Helen
frustrated that what she had planned as Cathy's
punishment had nearly turned into an orgy?

"I don't have any reason to regret anything that happened
last night," I said firmly. I was ready to defend Cathy
against any accusation of lewdness.

"Neither do I," Cathy joined me. "In fact, given another
opportunity, I'd do everything exactly the same."

"I'm glad you both feel like this about it," Helen said
as she picked up our trays, emptied of anything edible.
"And, Cathy, I may take you up on that offer." As she
left our bedroom, Helen reminded us, "Today is a normal
training day. I'll see you downstairs in fifteen
minutes."

Cathy and I looked at each other. "She's tricked us," I
said. "Particularly you."

"Never mind," Cathy answered. "I didn't say anything I
didn't mean. And while we're on the subject: you should
have thought of spanking me a long time ago. Just to
think of all the years I went without! I consider this a
serious character flaw on your part."

"It's a past character flaw," I assured her. "Let's not
talk about our sins of the past, otherwise I'll have to
present you with a long list too."

                         -----

We spent most of the day in the gym of horrors, which
Helen insisted on calling 'pleasure palace' and Cathy had
baptized 'discipline den'. Once more I spent hours
chained to the wall, having my cock stimulated while it
and my balls were trapped in a harness. When I didn't
enjoy and suffer from the effect Cathy's hands and mouth
had on my cock, I watched her submitting to Helen's
treatment.

Helen's imagination seemed to be unlimited when it came
to causing her victim pain and subsequently bringing
about relief. I had never thought it possible that one
person could be both so cruel and so tender as Helen was
when she dealt with Cathy. She could make Cathy writhe in
agony, have her beg for mercy - and then let her
experience an ear-shattering orgasm by touching her ever
so lightly. The spectacle was both frightening and
exciting.

My own ordeal was not limited to being pinned to the
wall. To break the monotony, Helen made me lie face down
on the table, where she trussed me like a turkey ready
for the oven. Then she hoisted me up, held by ropes which
were attached to my tied arms and legs and left me
dangling while she strapped Cathy to the table beneath
me. Helen lowered me gradually until my cock was less
than an inch away from Cathy's pussy. Then she left the
room, leaving us straining to make contact.

I could hear Helen tap away at the computer in the room
next door, which we used as our home office, as I made a
superhuman effort to get my cock to touch Cathy's pussy.
Cathy also strained against her ties, trying to lift her
bottom off the table and bring her pussy closer to my
cock. The effort left both of us exhausted and
frustrated.

When Helen returned after what seemed like hours - at
least that's what my arms and legs felt like - she
lowered me ever so slightly until my cock could touch
Cathy's pussy. Helen also loosened Cathy's straps a
little so that she could push her pussy up to meet my
hard rod.

It felt so good! What we did, could not be described as
fucking, not by any stretch of the imagination. I managed
to get my body into a swinging movement, and as I passed
back and forth like a pendulum, my cock head would graze
Cathy's pussy lips which she strained to offer me. The
contact our genitals made was so light, almost
imperceptible, but it raised our excitement to an
unsustainable level. When I saw Cathy's face convulse as
she reached her climax, I was no longer able to hold
back. My swinging cock gushed its cum all over Cathy's
pussy and belly; some of it also landed on the table.

My next task was to clean up the mess I had made - with
my tongue. Helen watched closely to make sure that I left
both Cathy and the table immaculately clean.

                         -----

Later that day, over a relaxed meal in a pleasant
restaurant, I tried to satisfy my curiosity about what
Helen was working on when she used the computer. Helen's
reaction surprised me. At first, she all but denied that
she had used the computer.

"I could clearly hear you typing while I was hanging from
the ceiling, trying to grow my cock by another inch," I
reminded her.

"Oh, that," she said, looking almost embarrassed. "I'm
only experimenting, throwing a few ideas around. It may
never get beyond the experimental stage. It's nothing
that's ripe for discussion. When I get somewhere, I'll
let you know."

I found her answer less forthcoming than her usual
behavior. It was in marked contrast to the young lady we
met not so long ago, who had talked with so much
enthusiasm about her work. Her answer made me suspect
that she was hiding something. Had she decided to start
writing a novel of her own instead of translating other
people's work and felt unsure about her talent as a
writer?

If she wasn't working on any translation, maybe she was
keeping a detailed diary? That would explain her
reluctance to talk about it. Maybe her diary contained
comments about Cathy and me? I would have loved to know
what Helen had to say about us, particularly about me.

My curiosity was aroused. After that evening, I found
myself frequently checking the computer after Helen had
used it. But she always logged off and never left any
traces of what she had been doing lying around.

                         -----

Helen continued to serve us breakfast in bed every
morning. She also took care of most other chores around
the house and did the daily shopping - Cathy and I were
immobilized a considerable part of our time and couldn't
look after those tasks.

The black body stocking became a permanent feature. It
almost seemed that it was the only item of clothing in
Helen's wardrobe. Would I never again see her without
this second skin? Sure, she was wonderful to look at; the
garment almost looked like it had been sprayed onto her
body. But my eyes, my hands and my mouth longed for the
naked skin beneath the synthetic fiber. Would she remain
a forbidden fruit forever?

But how could I have any negative feelings towards Helen
because of her inaccessibility? Hadn't she given me a new
Cathy, a woman hot as dynamite, willing to indulge in
sexual pleasures, no matter what form they took? Wasn't
she in the process of turning my cock into a tool which
would be able to satisfy Cathy or any other woman - even
the most demanding?

Maybe we had progressed past the stage where she offered
us her body to let us realize our fantasies. Maybe now it
was up to Cathy and me to satisfy each other's lust. I
remembered her words, 'You'll have to become self-
sufficient - or look for other partners to whom you can
teach what you've learnt.' Was the day she would leave us
getting close?

                         -----

Helen's behavior gave no indication of an imminent
departure. Our 'training' continued on its planned
course. At least I assumed that there was a plan behind
the sequence of ever-changing torments Helen put us
through.

Cathy was subjected a few more times to Helen's mock
caning. It never failed to have the desired effect. As
soon as the cane swished through the air, Cathy lost
control of her bladder and filled the bowl Helen had
placed preemptively between Cathy's legs. The cane barely
touched Cathy's bottom, but she was convinced that she
had been castigated harshly. She turned into a little
girl, screaming and sobbing uncontrollably.

Cathy's horror of being caned reached such dimensions
that she panicked at the mere sight of the caning horse
being lowered from the wall. Helen had to drag her,
kicking and screaming, to the bar and use all her skills
to bend Cathy over the beam and fasten the loops around
her arms and legs.

I was stupefied by Cathy's abject fear of the cane and by
the intensity of her reaction to canings which never
happened. Obviously, something had happened to Cathy in
the past which terrified her still today. Helen had
somehow found out about it, but Cathy had never mentioned
anything to me.

Once, when we had a few minutes on our own, I asked Cathy
about the reason behind her fear. Cathy just said, "I
don't want to talk about it." The tone of her voice made
it clear that it wouldn't be a good idea to insist.

Helen gave me a chance to find out for myself what it's
like to be bent over the caning horse. In my case, the
cane whizzed right through and hit my bottom with full
force - and it wasn't a pleasant sensation.

But this was nothing in comparison with the suffering I
had to endure while I was chained to the wall with my
balls trapped in Helen's devilish device. There were
times when I felt like a cock with a body attached. At
least that's how Cathy and Helen treated me. I suspected
that the two increased the time of my suffering by a
little every day. The eruptions of my cock when my balls
were finally released were spectacular and left me -
well, drained.

I also learned how to control myself when I wasn't
wearing the harness. It seemed that my cock got used to
being permanently hard. I could fuck Cathy for long
periods without stopping. Sometimes I even stayed hard
after I came and continued to fuck her as if nothing had
happened.

One day, Helen had Cathy lick me, suck me and stroke me
from early morning to late afternoon. My balls hurt so
much, I was ready to faint. Then, suddenly, Helen lead
Cathy away from me and strapped her to the table. Helen
removed my harness and, using the exquisite touch of her
hands, brought my already boiling cock to the overflow.
She caught the cum spurting from my dick in a glass bowl.
I couldn't believe how much spunk I was able to produce.
When I ceased spurting, Helen carried the bowl to Cathy
and held it to her mouth.

"Drink," she said. "If you waste one drop, you get a
caning."

Cathy didn't spill a single drop.

I watched the scene in awe. Could there possibly be a
more depraved, a more perverted act than Cathy sipping my
cum from a bowl? But instead of feeling disgusted, I felt
utterly excited. My cock was rock-hard. It seemed that it
had never gone soft. And I wanted to plunge it into
Cathy's mouth, right where my cum had disappeared.

Helen must have read my thoughts.

"Fuck her," she said, as she released me from my cuffs.
"Stick your cock into every hole you can find."

I was in a frenzy. I was on top of the table and on top
of Cathy in no time. I straddled her face and lowered my
cock into her wide open mouth. I didn't want her to suck
me. No, I wanted to fuck her face. I drove deep into her
cum-swilling mouth. At first she gagged as I entered her
throat, but she soon adjusted her position to accommodate
my rod.

Next, with Cathy still strapped to the table, I fucked
her soaking wet cunt which she offered me just as
willingly as she had offered her mouth. Finally, I untied
her, turned her around and made her bend over the table.
I entered her rear with one firm stroke. I thrust into
her ass like an animal. I wanted to compensate her for
all the unsatisfactory fucks of the past, for all the
prematurely terminated lovemaking. Cathy did not seem to
mind that I treated her so roughly. She encouraged me
with words and moans.

I don't know how long I had been pounding into Cathy's
rear when I felt my climax approach. I wanted to deposit
my seed in her mouth, where my earlier load had ended up.
I pulled out of Cathy's ass, turned her around and fed
her my cock which she eagerly sucked. It didn't take me
long to fill her mouth with a second delivery of my hot
spunk. Then I embraced Cathy and we held each other tight
for a long time.

                         -----

"What special surprise are you planning for this
evening?" Helen asked Cathy as she served our breakfast.

It was exactly one week after Cathy had flashed her pussy
so wantonly at my poker partners and had afterwards been
spanked by them. 'This evening' referred to the fact that
they were due to visit us again. I had decided to make up
for all the evenings when I had skipped being the host
'for domestic reasons'.

"Hmm, I thought of getting some different types of bread.
San Francisco sourdough, Irish soda bread, pumpernickel,
black rye. And I've found a few new recipes for some
interesting sandwich fillings. Chicken and avocado, for
example..."

"No that's not what I mean," Helen interrupted her. "What
are _you_ going to do to make the evening a success?"

Cathy didn't quite know what Helen was getting at.

"Do you think one simple spanking makes up for all the
hostility you treated them with over the years?"

"You mean I should let them spank me again? Alright.
Every time they come here, they have the right to spank
me for my unfriendly behavior. For as long as Stan thinks
it's necessary."

Helen shook her head. "Wrong answer."

I could see from Cathy's face that she felt trapped.
Helen had Cathy in her power. She was able to make Cathy
agree to anything she wanted, but Cathy didn't know what
Helen expected of her.

"I'll give you a hint. I sense that you'd like to have a
closer look at the hard rods that were making their
trousers bulge last time around."

Cathy didn't deny her interest in my friends' pricks.

"How about a nice sloppy blowjob for each of your
guests?" Helen suggested. "That way you get to take a
really close look at their cocks."

Cathy's jaw dropped. Helen was trying to push her further
than Cathy was prepared to go. She shook her head.

"No, please!" Cathy pleaded. "I couldn't do that. They're
Stan's friends. How could I face them again afterwards?"

It didn't sound like a firm refusal. There was a touch of
resignation in her voice, an admission that she might
have to agree in the end.

"You'll face them the same way you're going to face them
after they spanked you and played with your pussy. Or
would you rather I cane you in front of them?"

The last part wasn't pronounced like a question. It was a
mere reminder of the power Helen had over Cathy. From
what I had witnessed I knew that Cathy would do anything
to avoid a caning, even a simulated one. And she
certainly didn't want my friends to watch as she turned
into an incontinent little girl at the sight of the cane.

"Alright. I'll suck them," Cathy said resignedly. "But
only once," she added to maintain at least some degree of
dignity.

                         -----

Deciding what Cathy would wear that evening was more
difficult. My thoughts were on a red see-through blouse
Cathy had worn for a candlelight dinner in an intimate
restaurant, a few months ago. Seeing the other guests and
the waiters look at my wife's beautiful breasts had fired
my passion so much that I made love to her in the cab
home. And then again in the entrance hall, and again in
our bed. I expected that watching my friends look at her
in that blouse would have the same effect on me.

In fact, my thoughts were on see-through everything. I
wanted to display my wife, the sexiest, the most enticing
of creatures, to my friends. I wanted her to suck their
cocks in the lewdest possible way to give them just a
small taste of the pleasures this woman was giving me
every day.

At this stage, Cathy was willing to wear whatever she was
told. She would have agreed to appear stark naked if
that's what we'd decide. But Helen had more conservative
ideas. She wanted Cathy to look elegant, classy, like an
up-market hooker. We opened the doors of Cathy's wardrobe
and looked at the available options.

In the end we settled for a strapless evening dress. The
black color lent an otherwise daring creation an air of
respectability. The dress had hardly any back to speak of
and the front seemed to be held up only by magic - and
Cathy's full breasts. It reminded me of a Brazilian
friend who once told me that the colloquial term for
strapless in his country was '_tomara-que-caia_', which,
literally translated, means 'let's hope it falls'.

The lower part of the dress was a narrow skirt with a
slit on one side. The slit could be adjusted by a zipper
to show more or less of the wearer's legs. If Cathy
wanted, she could make the slit go all the way up to her
hip. I decided to be generous and let Cathy decide
whether or not she would be wearing panties underneath
the dress.

Expecting that the evening would offer plenty of
excitement, Helen decided once more to keep our training
light and started off with a massage. However, this time
it was Cathy and I massaging each other. Helen did not
get directly involved. She just told us what to do and
sometimes showed us how to do it right. The effect of the
massage on my arousal level was just as electrifying as
the last time and Cathy reacted just as enthusiastically
to my touch as she had the week before.

We reached a state in which both of us wanted just one
thing: to fuck. But Helen told us this would have to wait
until after our guests had left, and prescribed a course
of cold showers.

                         -----

As had happened a week before, Cathy made a dash for the
door whenever the doorbell rang. The narrow skirt, which
she had adjusted to show only her calves - at least for
the start - made it difficult for her to move fast, but I
realized that it was important to her to welcome my
friends at the door and I didn't make any effort to get
there before her.

"Gee, I like the dress!" was the standard exclamation I
could hear whenever one of my buddies set eyes on Cathy.
"I'm glad you do," Cathy would respond, and do a full
turn so they could admire her splendid figure from all
angles.

The evening passed in a similar fashion to the week
before. We played a few rounds of poker, had a few beers
and when we got hungry, we dug into the large selection
of sandwiches Cathy had prepared. As on the previous
occasion, Cathy stayed in the background but appeared as
if by magic whenever one of us needed another beer. As
she poured the drink, she stood close to the player to
allow him to pass his hand over her backside or give her
a gentle slap.

"Looks like everything is back in working order back
there," Hank remarked as his hand moved up and down
Cathy's bottom.

As the evening wore on, Cathy slid the zipper of her
dress further and further up to reveal more and more of
her legs. She needed a little more freedom of movement to
perform a new variety of her 'picking up things which
aren't there' trick. In the beginning she actually
dropped a few bottle-tops to have something to pick up.
As she bent down to look for them under the table she
rubbed the cock of the nearest player through his
trousers. I could see the delight in their faces in spite
of their efforts not to let on what was happening.

I didn't win many games that evening; I was just as
distracted as the other players, though probably for
different reasons. I could see their 'greedy eyes' on
Cathy's figure. They must have noticed how her curves put
a strain on the tight dress and were quite possibly
hoping for a 'wardrobe malfunction'. They noticed with
interest how the slit on the side of her skirt kept
growing upwards and revealed more and more of her
beautiful legs. And, no doubt, Cathy's under-the-table
massage of their manhood left them in a state which made
it difficult to concentrate on something as trivial as a
game of poker.

I had different reasons for being distracted. I knew what
was going to happen in a short while. I imagined the
scenes which were still to come, starting from the look
on my friends' faces when Cathy would inform them of
tonight's bonus program.

A sloppy blowjob by a busty blonde, isn't that what most
men fantasize about? And my friends were going to have
their dreams come true. They were going to get sucked
off, not just by any old busty blonde, but by Cathy, my
wife. I couldn't wait to see their faces when Cathy would
announce her intention, and when she'd actually wrap her
lips around their cocks, which - I was sure - were
already twitching in their trousers.

As on the previous poker evening, the game just wasn't
exciting enough to hold our attention for a long time. We
soon decided to chuck it in and my friends were getting
ready to leave when Cathy made her move.

"I just wanted to say how glad I am that you've forgiven
me my unfriendly attitude in the past, guys. I think
that's really generous of you."

My friends didn't see any need for Cathy to thank them.
"Gee, Cathy, your lovely presence makes up for any
misgivings that might have existed in the past," Tim
said, expressing what all the others were feeling as
well.

"Nevertheless, I think you deserve a special treat - all
four of you."

The men probably expected the 'special treat' to be a
desert, or maybe an unusual drink for the road. I could
watch how the expression on their faces changed when
Cathy announced what the special treat was.

"I've decided to give you a blowjob, each one of you."

There was stunned silence. They just didn't know if they
had heard right. And if they had really understood what
Cathy had said, then they didn't know what to say.

"Today we'll do it in the sequence in which you are
sitting around the table. Tim will be first," Cathy said
into the silence.

I expected Tim to ask, "Are you sure you really want to
do this?" but he remained quiet as Cathy opened his belt,
unzipped his fly and brought his fully-erect cock to her
lips. I could feel my friends' eyes on me. They wondered
how I would react, whether I would interfere, put a stop
to Cathy's display of wantonness, but I didn't react.

At this point, the fact that Cathy wasmy wife was
irrelevant. She was just one extremely sexy creature,
making a show of her appetite for hard cocks. I was as
engrossed as they were, watching Cathy trail her tongue
along Tim's shaft, from his hairy balls to the top. I was
just as aroused as they were, when I saw Cathy take Tim's
cock into her mouth and move her lips up and down his
shaft. I was just as surprised as they were when Cathy
suddenly let go of Tim's cock and got up from the floor.

"We don't want this beautiful dress to get stained, do
we?" Cathy said, as she undid the catch in the back which
held her dress in place. Everybody gasped when they saw
that taking off the dress left Cathy completely naked. Of
course, I had seen Cathy naked before - in fact during
the last weeks I had hardly seen her wear any clothes -
but for my friends this was a first. And what they saw
exceeded their expectations.

After stowing away her dress in a safe place, Cathy
returned to her kneeling position and continued to give
Tim a meltdown blowjob. Tim had already started to moan
before the interruption - maybe Cathy had sensed that he
was about to come and decided to remove her dress just in
time. Now, his moans were growing louder, more urgent. I
could tell from his face that he had reached the point of
no return. Cathy let Tim's cock slip from her mouth, but
kept it firmly in her hand as she directed the stream of
his cum against her face. She kept stroking his cock to
get the last drop out of it and finally wiped it on her
cheeks to make sure nothing was wasted.

My friends and I gasped at Cathy's display of lewdness,
at the obvious pleasure it gave her to have her face
splattered with Tim's cum.

Oblivious to our reaction, Cathy moved around to where
Eddy was sitting and proceeded to unwrap his packet. As
expected, Eddy was just as ready as Tim had been. His
cock was curved like a saber, pointing back at his navel.
Cathy had to move to his side to get better access.

Having already sucked one cock, Cathy was now in a more
playful mood. She made a show of circling Eddy's cock
head with her tongue and giving it a few flicks before
she trailed his length all the way to his balls. The fact
that this cock was bent did not cause Cathy any problems.
She accommodated his full length in her throat and
brought it to boiling point just as efficiently as she
had done with Tim's cock.

As had been the case with Tim, Cathy released Eddy's cock
from her mouth as it started to shoot its load and
directed the flow towards her face. Big blobs of spunk
landed on her forehead, some of it stuck to her eyebrows,
some of it dripped down her nose or into her eyes.

Hank was unpacked and dispatched just as quickly and
efficiently as the other two. He groaned as he added his
contribution to the rapidly growing collection of cum on
Cathy's face.

There was no need to unpack Bill's cock. He had already
removed his trousers in eager anticipation. His cock
stood proud like a soldier, saluting Cathy at her long
awaited arrival. Cathy treated it with the same mixture
of reverence and disrespect she had demonstrated for its
predecessors.

Bill had watched every move of Cathy's mouth intently. He
had witnessed how the expression on the faces of three of
his friends had changed from sweet agony to joyful bliss
as they sprayed Cathy's face with their juices. The
scenes which had passed before his eyes left him in such
a state of excitement, he was barely able to control
himself. Bill lost whatever control he had as soon as
Cathy's lips touched his prick. He squirted his cum
against Cathy's chin, on her lips and into her nostrils.
It seemed like Cathy's special treat had turned into a
competition of who could make the biggest mess of Cathy's
face.

To say that watching what Cathy did to my friends and
what they did to her was not without effect on me, would
be the understatement of the year, possibly of the
century. I had never witnessed anything as excitingly
sleazy as this. My cock was straining to be released.

I was in a great hurry to be alone with Cathy. I bundled
my friends out the door, ignoring their thanks for an
exciting evening. When I returned, Cathy was still
kneeling on the floor, jizz dripping off her cum-glazed
face, down her chin and onto her magnificent breasts.

"Who's next?" she called invitingly towards me.

'Disgusting slut, debased character, sick pervert,
depraved whore, filthy trollop, defiler of nature,
outcast of society, scum of the earth,' were the terms
which passed through my mind as I saw my wife kneeling
there, waiting for me to put my cock into her licentious
mouth. None of these words was strong enough to describe
the image of this lewd woman in front of me.

But I wasn't in the mood nor in a position to pass
judgment over other people. I was horny as hell and this
filthy woman was the most exciting creature I had ever
met. I picked Cathy up from the floor and embraced her. I
kissed her cum-coated lips, her cheeks, her eyes, her
forehead. Slowly but thoroughly I performed the task of
licking my friends' spunk off my wife's face, her chin,
her neck, her tits.

Did this make me a slut? Well, no. That word is reserved
for women. Then what do you call a man who watches his
wife suck four other men and then licks their cum off
her? I didn't know and I didn't care. Whatever the word
was, it - like the words which had just passed through my
mind in relation to Cathy - belonged in a world I had
left behind. The world I found myself in now, was free
from those moralistic value judgments. The only thing
that mattered was to achieve the maximum sexual pleasure
by any possible means.

When I had finished cleaning Cathy, I took her into my
arms, picked her up and carried her up the stairs. I
deposited her on our bed, took off my clothes and fucked
her - boy, did I fuck her! I drove my cock into her
seething hot, dripping wet cunt and fucked her as if my
life depended on it. I pounded my hard rod into her,
relentlessly, from every imaginable angle, oblivious to
the ebb and flow of Cathy's orgasms.

When I finally decided it was time to come - yes, I was
able to make that decision rather than having my cock
decide for me - I pulled out of her moist enclosure and
sprayed her with my cum. But this time, I didn't lick my
sperm off her. This time I spread it evenly over her
entire body. This time I rubbed it into her skin until
there was no visible trace of my spunk left. Then I took
Cathy into my arms, ready for a much needed rest.

'Cathy belongs to me,' it suddenly struck me. I had never
been the possessive type. Getting married hadn't been my
preferred course of action, because I had been worried
that this idea of belonging to each other might spoil our
good relationship. But at this moment, I had no doubt:
Cathy was mine. No matter how many cocks she sucked, no
matter how many men possessed her, she was mine. I had
marked her with my seed, I had rubbed it into her skin.
Nothing could remove my mark from her. She was mine for
ever.

                    To be continued