I first saw Dave at a girlfriend’s party. I was twenty-eight and still a virgin. That night he didn’t even know that I existed. I watched him navigate the floor, chatting with every girl in the place, and many of them were keen to make his acquaintance. But near midnight, when I was plucking up the courage to join a circle at which he was the main attraction, the husband of a partially attractive older woman took umbrage with Dave about him sleeping with his wife. They went outside, and I slipped through the guests to the ranch slider so that I could listen to their conversation.
It was a very brief argument. Dave told the guy he wasn’t going to fight him and hadn’t slept with his wife. He said he didn’t mess with other men’s wives and that he would leave, so they did not mess up Diane’s party. And so, much to my dismay, he walked down the drive and disappeared into the night.
I asked Diane all about him, as he intrigued me. I was very sceptical of any man’s intentions in those days. Being attractive, I got hit on all the time. And in my teens, I saw my brothers and their mates lying, cheating and manipulating girls so they could get into their pants. I knew all their tricks and how to counter them, which was a good part of the reason I was still a virgin at the tender age of twenty-eight. But that night, Dave had not played games with the women hanging around him and seemed quite content to talk with anyone and enjoy himself.
We met again a few months later at another function, and I managed to catch his eye this time. He asked me out, and we were married a year later. All my girlfriends warned me about Dave, saying he had had many conquests and would never settle down. Nevertheless, we had a great marriage, hardly ever argued, and did most things together. He never talked of his past, and I never pushed him about it. But I did hear his friends jibing him from time to time, so I was under no illusions that he had a shady past with many conquests.
Dave gave me little cause ever to distrust him. But my scepticism of males and their intentions never left me. And as Dave’s work started taking him away on odd nights, I had some lonely, insecure nights where I imagined the worst. I tried to keep my insecurities to myself, and when they did surface, Dave was always honest and put my mind at rest, telling me I had no cause to worry; he was mine and would never stray.
On the night I write about, Dave and I met up with a couple of my old netball friends at a pub in central Auckland. I was horny that night and wanted to dress accordingly. But my wardrobe mainly consisted of loose-fitting, shapeless and conservative outfits, as can happen to a woman after a few years of marriage. The best I could find was a white top that, if I left a button undone, would show some cleavage and a form-fitting, shortish blue skirt that I had hardly worn as it made me stand out. In the early years of our marriage, I would have gone out with no knickers, something that Dave was always trying to get me to do. But being nearly forty, I was a little past that, and so decided on his second favourite fantasy, a suspender belt and stockings. I wanted to put on high heals but chose comfortable low healed shoes as I wanted to dance,
I made sure he was in the bedroom as I hooked up the stockings and pulled on my sexy lace lingerie, bought recently for such an occasion. I was pleased to see the yearning in his eyes at the prospect of what we would be getting up to later that night.
It took a lot of willpower on both our parts for us to leave for the pub on time.
We had only been at the pub for fifteen minutes when Allison’s husband got a call from their babysitter that their son was not well. The six of them decided to leave as they had all travelled into town in the brother-in-law’s van. Dave and I decided to stay, as we figured if it were as serious as it sounded, we would only be in the way. Also, the prospect of getting home early and diving into the sack may have influenced our decision.
Moments after they left, a couple of guys came over and asked if they could share our table. As it turned out, Dave knew one of them. And we were soon joined by three more of their friends. Hugh was handsome and engaging, and he was instantly at ease with Dave and me and soon had us smiling at his stories about their old rugby days.
While Dave reminisced with Hugh, his friend Owen asked me to dance. Naturally, I jumped at the opportunity, as Dave was not so keen these days on hitting the dance floor. Owen was a good dancer and entertained me with his jokes and stories. He was very attentive and had me constantly blushing. I had regretted not getting more sexual experience before Dave and I were married, and I sometimes wondered what other men would be like. And so I did not totally reject Owen’s flirtatious compliments. Instead, I found myself getting even hornier than I already had been.
I felt safe, having Dave so close, but when we returned to our table, I asked one of the other young men to dance so that Owen wouldn’t think I was an easy score. For the next half hour, I danced with all the guys. Being young and horny, they all tried it on with me, accidentally brushing their hands over my breasts and bottom. I found it easy to ward off their advances, and on this particular night, I found their attentions flattering. On any other night, I knew I would have taken offence. I do not know why it was different, but I was not dwelling on the issue; I was having fun.
The last I danced with was Hugh. To my disappointment, he was almost fatherly with me, telling me to be careful with his friends as they were a bunch of lotharios. He was handsome, although I knew I was way out of order. I was disappointed he did not attempt to flirt with me.
After the band’s break, Owen moved in before the others had a chance and whisked me away to dance again. He was even more forward this time, seeing how his mates behaved. I had a lot more trouble avoiding his wandering hands, and even though I was enjoying the attention, I was conscious about Dave seeing us and getting angry, as he could be pretty possessive sometimes.
When we returned to the table, Dave’s phone rang, and he said it was work security and he had to go and reset the alarm. He said he wouldn’t be long and asked Hugh to look after me. So I grabbed the least handsy of the young guys and headed back to the dance floor.
I spent the next bracket of songs dancing with everyone except Owen. I did not trust myself with him, especially with Dave being absent. I knew I could keep him at bay, but I found him very attractive and had enjoyed his amorous advances far too much.
But as the band started playing again, Owen had me walking with him to the dance floor before any of the guys had a chance to ask me. He was much more forward now, hand on my bum as we danced, his finger rubbing in the crack of my arse, and even brushing his hands over my hardened nipples. My lady parts were now becoming acutely sensitive, and I constantly had to brush his hands aside.
“Owen! Behave yourself. I’m a happily married woman, and although it’s very flattering you’re taking such an interest in me, I’m not available. However, if it’s sex you’re after, I’m sure many free women here would like you to take them home.”
“Raylene, I want more than sex. I want to hold you close, dance and laugh with you. I think you are a very sensual woman. You excite and interest me. I want to get to know you better. Besides, why would your husband leave you alone on purpose if he did not expect us all to make a play for you?”
These compliments I had heard many times before, but coming from Owen, they seemed more genuine, and I found myself heating up at his praises. But I was brought up short when I realised he had said that Dave had left on purpose.
“What do you mean he left on purpose?” I snapped.
“I shouldn’t have said that. Sorry!”
“Elaborate. I want to know why?”
Owen looked uncomfortable, “Your husband has had a bet with Hugh that none of us can get in your pants. It was for $100, so all the boys have been trying to win it. That is not why I have been pursuing you, though. My interest in you has nothing to do with any bet. On the contrary, I am enjoying your company.”
I was furious. I stiffened up and was ready to storm back to the table, tell the lot of them to stick their bet, and head home in a taxi.
But Owen held me until I had calmed somewhat; he was very understanding.
“Raylene!” He whispered, “It’s not that bad. Dave was adamant you would not be unfaithful. You should be happy he has such faith in you that he would leave you.”
Men! They have no idea how women think. But I was calming down and thinking things through.
“Where has he gone? Is he here watching us?” And I searched around the bar for him. But there was no sign of him, and I knew I would spot him. He would stand out in what he was wearing.
“No, he’s not here; he promised Hugh he would stay away for half an hour. So I’m guessing he is somewhere nearby having a coffee.”
Owen thought he was helping, and he kissed me. I found myself responding, partly because he was a damn good kisser, but also because I was annoyed at Dave’s betrayal. Then I realised he was openly pinching my nipples. In horror, I became aware that my bloody body was responding, and my breathing was becoming short. I looked around and saw a few couples dancing nearby, glancing at us, so I broke away and left him standing alone as I furiously made my way back to our table.
I stood by Hugh; he put his arm around me and asked what was wrong. I was annoyed but realised that Hugh was a safe haven and the only one that had not tried anything with me. So I snuggled my head into his chest and said I was all right. We talked a bit, me avoiding Owen’s concerned looks. And when Hugh asked me to dance, I gladly followed him back to the floor.
He was a good dancer, he joked and laughed with me, but it was no good; the euphoria I had been feeling all night had evaporated.
“What say I get the band to play your favourite song? That should cheer you up.”
“You don’t even know my favourite song,” I answered.
“You said earlier that you had heard this band play ‘Come on Eileen’ last time you saw them and that it was one of your favourites. So I’ll get them to play that.”
Then he shut his eyes and twisted his face up in concentration. I had to laugh; he looked so funny.
“What are you doing?”
“Thought control, I’m communicating with the singer. Telling him I want him to play, ‘Come on, Eileen’. And hold on… he’s said yes!”
“You can’t do that, you silly bugger.”
“Want to bet? Something sexy, not money!”
“I’m not giving you a blowjob on the dance floor, if that is what you are after.”
Hugh gave a throaty laugh, “Oh! That would be nice. No! I was thinking that you doing something daring and dropping your knickers would be a good payment.”
“I’m certainly not doing that!”
“So you do believe I have mind control! What have you got to lose? I bet you have done nothing exciting and scandalous in twenty years.”
I swayed with him for a few seconds, thinking that I had not seen him go anywhere near the band, and even though I knew I would never drop my panties, I found myself laughing and agreeing to the bet. Then, to my total amazement, the band struck up the first few notes of ‘Come on Eileen’.
“You bastard, how did you do that? I’m not dropping my panties; you have tricked me.”
“I haven’t tricked you at all. I used to be in a band myself a few years ago, and I know how to put music sets together. So it seemed the logical song to play after the last number. So I didn’t trick you at all. And you will drop your knickers; you cannot renege on a bet. I’ll be kind and let you do it unobserved back at our table, though.”
I contemplated my dilemma during the rest of the dance and on our walk back to the table. I was more aroused by the thought of standing in a crowded bar wearing no panties than I would ever have imagined. But I knew I would never have the courage actually to drop them. However, when I again told Hugh I could not do it, he said I would, or he would pull them down himself.
Minutes later, when everyone at the table turned to watch some hot woman on the dance floor, Hugh gave me a nudge and indicated I do it then. Looking to the table to our left to ensure they weren’t watching, I quickly hooked my fingers in the waistband, slipped my panties past my hips and let them drop to the floor. He used his foot to hold them on the floor as I tried to reach down to pull them up again. He shook his head at me and kept his foot there, telling me he had all night. Not wanting to create a scene, I lifted each foot clear and watched him bend down and whisk them off the floor into his pocket.
As he slipped them into his pocket, a glisten of light shone from the sopping wet patch in the crotch. I realised I had a problem; I could already feel my vaginal secretions seeping down my thighs now that I was sans panties. Fuck! I was drenched, wet like a horny schoolgirl.
As these thoughts were tumbling through my mind, Hugh nudged me to look to my left, and Dave walked up beside me. I gawked at him, knowing I looked as guilty as hell. I asked him if he had sorted the alarm, and when he replied it was all good, a flare of annoyance at his betrayal flooded over me. I stepped around him, grabbed Owen and marched back to the dance floor, knowing that if I stayed with Dave, I would likely cause a scene and say things I’d later regret.
We danced, and although Owen held me close, he did not dare make any moves on me. I was so annoyed at Dave that I wanted him to touch me; I think I would have let him fuck me right then if he had tried. I held him close and asked him to kiss me, which he did, and I found myself genuinely responding to his kisses. His warm mouth almost burned me. I responded by searching out his tongue and sucking on it with passion. There were many bodies between us and our table, but I almost hoped that Dave was watching us.
I was demanding of Owen. I pushed my hips against his leg. My knees went weak as he searched out my breasts and pinched my super hard nipples between a thumb and forefinger. I wanted him to touch me between my legs and find I wasn’t wearing panties. But I could not bring myself to ask him and so danced close, trying my hardest to get my agonised, itchy cunt to rub against his body. But Owen resisted me and told me to wait, that here was not the place to be so obvious.
When we returned to the table, everyone was getting ready to leave for a party at Hugh’s house. I had no option but to stand by Dave and unbelievingly found he was annoyed with me. Fucking incredible. I felt guilty at the liberties I had let the guys take, but they would never have happened if he had not left me alone with them. I ushered Liam into the front with Dave when we got to the car. I did not want to talk to Dave, fearing we would get into a horrible argument. So instead, I climbed in the back with Emma, a pretty little thing Liam had picked up in the bar. Just as Dave went to pull away, Owen pulled the door open on my side and hopped in beside me.
On the way to Hugh’s place, Owen slipped his hand to my knee and tried to sneak it up under my skirt. I held him at bay until Emma came onto me from the other side. I was shocked; I’d never had this happen with a woman before. Emma’s actions had distracted me, and I felt Owen’s hand slip under my skirt. I pushed Emma away, whispering to her I was not into women and at the same time, grabbed Owen’s hand before he got to his destination. Emma giggled and said that being bisexual was having the best of both worlds and made it twice as easy to get dates. Having gotten all that out in the open, she settled down, and we started talking. She soon had me relaxed and laughing with her whilst I held on tightly to Owen’s wayward hands. I had to admit that if I were ever to go bat for the other side, someone like Emma would certainly be my choice. Surprisingly, I was not annoyed by the fact that Emma found me attractive and found that I was very aroused.
The rest of the drive was exciting. I had all the attention a girl could ever want, and Dave was sitting in the front, oblivious to my aroused state.
Once we arrived at Hugh’s place, Dave headed off somewhere with Hugh. Emma and I were left to help get the food sorted. I met Michelle and Julian, a couple renting a bedroom from Hugh.
When the guys returned from downstairs, Hugh hustled me into the kitchen to get us some drinks. He had Bourbon and Coke, which would keep Dave happy, and even had my favourite drink, Southern Comfort.
Then he dropped a bombshell on me, “I can see you are annoyed with Dave, pop these in his drink, and you can forget about him for a while.”
“What are they?” I asked.
“Mild sleeping pills. They’ll send him to sleep for a while.”
What I did not know at the time was that they were not sleeping pills but just sugar pills. I did not find out until sometime later that Hugh had put Dave up to pretend to be asleep so that he could watch.
My maternal reaction was to protect Dave and throw them in the sink. But then I remembered his betrayal. I found I was even more pissed with him now that he seemed angry and resentful of me. And I tipped both pills into Dave’s drink, thinking, ‘that will teach the bastard‘.
Then, immediately shocked at my doing that, I asked Hugh how long he would be out.
“Oh! A couple of hours, I expect. After that, he won’t have a clue he has taken them. They are quite mild and leave no aftereffects.”
On some of Dave’s business trips overseas, he had taken a sleeping pill. And they knocked him out cold for five hours or so. Sometimes I travelled with him and saw that he slept through meals and everything. It dawned on me that I had just given him two pills with alcohol and that it could knock him out for hours.
I actually considered pretending to trip up and drop his drink. But I was still peeved enough with him to ignore doing the right thing. So I handed Dave the glass when I returned to the lounge and watched him take a large gulp. He lay back and said he was pretty tired and had sore eyes from the smoke in the bar. Hugh heard Dave complain about his sore eyes and brought Dave a silly pair of sunglasses. I was happy when he put them on, as I figured it would calm him and make him drift off.
We all sat around nibbling at the food and asking one another questions. I struggled to keep my skirt from working its way up, conscious of all the men in the room checking out my legs. Dave and I did converse, but we were both uptight and so tended to talk mainly with the others. When Emma got up to dance with Liam, I asked Dave if he wanted to dance. He just yawned, told me to go dance, and asked if we could go home soon, as he was pretty tired.
Hugh was watching us, and when Dave declined, he came over and asked me to dance with him. As we moved into each other’s arms alongside Emma and Liam, I felt Hugh’s hand sliding down to my butt and a finger pushing down my crease. I looked around to see if anyone noticed and saw that Dave appeared to have already passed out. Michelle and Julian were kissing on the far settee, and Chris and Tobias had already left the room.
The only one watching was Owen. The ardent, predatory look on his face shocked me into realising what I had done. By drugging Dave, I had basically given these guys carte blanche to take liberties with me.
I broke away from Hugh, saying I was busting and needed the bathroom. I bent over Dave and shook him, having decided to wake him and say we were going home. But even when I nearly rattled his teeth out of his head, he just lay slumped back, out of this world. Worried, I walked to the bathroom to sort out what I should do and what implications it may have if I stayed.
I examined myself in the mirror. I looked hot and could not blame the guys for thinking I was available. I had not dressed like this for years. My nipples were showing, and they were erect and hard. I lifted my skirt and gazed in wonder at my trimmed, almost naked bush. Dropping my skirt back into place, I shuddered; the euphoria I felt at having stood in a crowded bar and now at a party sans panties was making me hornier than hell.
But a dozen other conflicting thoughts were going through my mind. I could not be unfaithful; it was not in my nature. How could I get myself and Dave out of here? I wanted to dance some more with Owen. He was exciting and had woken feelings I had suppressed all my life. Would Dave realise I had drugged him? What would this do to our marriage? Just a few dances with Owen and Hugh would not hurt. I would not let them go any further than touching my breasts.
As a dozen other thoughts coursed through my mind, I went to the toilet, grabbed a flannel, cleaned the mess between my thighs, and then went back to the lounge. Bugger it, I thought, I’ll have a few dances, and when Owen tries to get me into the bedroom, which I knew he would, I will wake Dave and drive him home.
Back in the lounge, I saw that they had dimmed the lights. They even had two candles burning over by the stereo. I walked over and gave Dave another shake, and when there was no reaction whatsoever, I downed the rest of my drink and joined Hugh by the TV. I was apprehensive but excited, especially at the prospect of dancing with Owen soon. However, I felt safe with Hugh and reasoned I would be safe with Owen also, given all the others in the room.
But when Hugh looked at me and took me in his arms, I noticed a change. There was a steel glint in his eyes. Even in the dim light, I saw the experienced stern expression on Hugh’s face, which exuded animal confidence. I was instantly aware that I was in scary, uncharted territory.
“God, you’re beautiful in the candlelight,” Hugh murmured in my ear. Then he pushed me out at arm’s length and ran his eyes over my body. I felt like I was being stripped bare. But his carnal appraisal was erotic and provocative, my body flooded with endorphins, and it made every nerve end tingle, warning me to take flight.
But I stayed still, soaking up the feelings his carnal gaze was generating in me. He gathered me back in his arms, and I felt a calm inevitability wash over me. Then he started nibbling on my ear, moved his hands to my hips and pushed a leg between mine. I had craved this in the pub when dancing with Owen an hour before. But now I was not so sure, with my husband lying comatose only a couple of arm lengths away. They talk about men’s dicks overruling their brains; well, tonight, it was my cunt that overcame all my good sense. It suddenly felt alive. I had to stop from reaching down and touching myself. Instead, I forced my hands to move in the other direction, up behind Hugh’s neck, which he took as permission to kiss me. He grabbed my hair, roughly tilted my head up, and then worked on my mouth with his invading tongue. At the same time, his other hand found my breast and painfully tweaked a nipple. He was no longer playing the father figure; he was being aggressive and forceful.
Despite the pain from his pinching me, my arousal flared to a new high. I had fantasised about being taken and overpowered by an attractive stranger – one who would take me to heights of ecstasy beyond my wildest dreams. And now, I realised my fantasy was playing out, and I knew I would be powerless to stop him.
He continued to bathe my neck with soft, passionate kisses, but his hands were now undoing buttons to bare my breasts. I made one last attempt to push his hands away and looked over to ensure Dave was still out of it. Hugh let me push his hands down from my breasts, but when I returned my arms up on his neck again, he moved them up under my partially open blouse, brushed them across my stomach and then up and under my bra.
I heard myself whimper a protest as his hands touched my naked flesh. I tried, half-heartedly, to extract myself from his embrace. Aware that the others in the room had to be watching. I had always been horrified at the thought of anyone seeing me in any intimate situation. Then he kissed me again, and I forgot about everything. It felt incredible, warm, wet and delicious; I wondered what he was drinking.
I felt someone move in behind me and knew it would be Owen. I turned my head to him, and we kissed. He was rubbing himself into my butt, and I did not care. The thought of being lodged between two strange men, one working on my tits, the other running his shaft between my butt cheeks, flooded my body with amoral demands that were overpowering. It drove any thoughts of flight or resistance out of my mind.
I slumped; my legs were weak and shaky. Hugh held me up, and then Owen’s fingers ran down between my legs, feeling their way into my incredibly wet slit. The scalding heat this generated nearly made me cum. I fought to hold my orgasm at bay and clutched a hand between my legs, too sensitive to let him touch me there. He dropped to his knees and started to eat me, even trying to push his tongue into my anus. Again, I fought to stop him; I would not let Dave touch me there. But it felt so good, and my anus was involuntarily puckering at his touch. Again, I had to fight against my orgasm exploding, and just in time, I felt him move away, giving me the reprieve I fought to hold back from a premature release.
I felt Owen unzipping my skirt, and against every bit of good sense I possessed, I wiggled my bum so that it fell to the floor. He moulded himself against my back and thrust into me hard. I lost myself completely. The erotic and sensual sensation of having him drive himself deep within my body in one thrust was something I had never experienced before. I doubt he thrust into me a dozen times before a huge orgasm shook my body. He didn’t stop pushing himself into me, ignoring that I was coming hard. He hammered into me harder than ever, smashing my bared tits onto Hugh’s eager hands.
“Tell him what you want!” Hugh spoke into my ear. He turned me side on to those on the couch and lifted my leg so that my knee was up under my breast. I tried to pull it down, knowing he was exposing me to everyone in the room. But he held me firm and repeated, “Tell him you want him to fuck your cunt. Say it!”
And I heard myself yell, “Yes! Deeper! Harder! Yes! Screw me, Owen. Fuck, I need this! Ahhheee!” And what seemed like only minutes later, a second, even bigger orgasm struck. I must have passed out momentarily, as my next recollection was Hugh lowering me to the sheepskin rug and laying alongside me. My body was still twitching with orgasmic spasms that had my back arching up from the sheepskin so hard it hurt.
I started to cry, overwhelmed by the force of my climaxes, embarrassed at having acted like an absolute whore and yelling out those obscenities. Hugh lifted my chin in his hand, smiled reassuringly at me and wiped away my tears, “Hush, my beautiful little slut. Just take what life gives you and enjoy it to the fullest. Owen and I are going to give you many more orgasms tonight. Tomorrow it will just be an incredible memory that no one else will ever know happened. Now roll over; it’s my turn to make love with you now.”
“No! I can’t; I’m too sensitive and have already come twice. I have no more to give you.”
“Oh! You have much more to give. Tonight you are our slut. Owen and I gave a young woman eight orgasms not long ago, but you came so quickly and hard that we think you will beat that.”
At this, Owen, breathing heavily, moved close and kissed me. Between kisses and deep breaths, he told me I was incredible and that he had come so hard he was knackered. He moved his hand to my breast and made to tweak my nipple, but I flinched at his touch, so he let his hand rest on my breast, unmoving. Then, I felt Hugh’s fingers searching between my legs, but I flinched again at his touch, and he just cupped my mound while I slowly came down from my high.
We lay together for what seemed an age, but it was only a matter of minutes before I felt their fingers slowly start to work on me again. I could not bear their touch, yet I wanted it so badly I could not stay still.
Owen sweet-talked in my ear. “Are you still too sensitive? I want to touch your incredible body; I need you again.”
Then Hugh spoke in my other ear, “It’s my turn to take you now. Owen can wait; I’m going to fuck you as you’ve never been fucked before.”
My conscience screamed at me to flee. No man should be saying these crude things to me. But my hips were moving, in time with his soft administrations on my once again very eager snatch. Hugh rolled away and disrobed while Owen distracted me by sucking on my nipples. Then Hugh snuggled in against my side, and I was aware of his stiff shaft pressing into my side. It seemed bloody big, not that I had a lot of experience with cocks, only having Dave’s to compare with before tonight.
Hugh pulled me over onto him, and I glanced down to check him out. Fuck! He was huge. My mind screamed at me to run again, this time in fear; I did not think I could ever accommodate him. It dwarfed Dave’s, who I had always considered well-endowed. He and I had watched a couple of porn videos, laughing about the size of some guys. But they were just on a screen; this one seemed much bigger in real life.
He just laughed, “I often see that look on women’s faces the first time they see it. But don’t worry, you’ll be all right. You do it, cowgirl, and take it slowly.” He lifted my hips, so my knees dropped on each side of him, and I held myself up, having no idea how I would manage his colossal column.
I did not know what cowgirl meant, but I guessed he had me how he wanted me. He pulled a hand down onto his shaft, and I guided the head along my slit, sinking a little to impale myself. I found I couldn’t get it in. I lifted, scooped some of the mess Owen had made and liberally applied it around his knob. Then, using two fingers, I spread my labia open and tried again. The bulbous head slid in an inch or so before the pain made me stop and lift slightly. I paused, waited for the pain to subside, then sank again and achieved another inch.
For the next few minutes, I eased down, lifted, and then eased down some more until I finally had my trimmed bush firmly planted on his wiry curls. It felt like I was sitting on a long beer can. I felt fuller than I have ever felt and tried a couple of small bounces to test the pain level. Then, with a surge of pride that I had managed to accommodate all of him, I started to bounce carefully up and down.
As soon as Hugh saw me try those small bounces, he started thrusting, timing his movements with mine. My initial anguished yelps quickly changed to aroused gasps of pleasure. His huge cock was not only stretching me, it was also stimulating my clit. “Oh! Oh! OHHH!” I cried as my body responded. I began thrusting down on Hugh, attempting to match his now-powerful strokes. My nipples grew hard as granite, and I leaned down to search his mouth with my tongue, opening my mouth in willing surrender. My head swung back and forth in a sexual frenzy, and another orgasm struck with such force that I lost all reality about where I was.
Seconds later, I came to my senses and found Hugh still thrusting into me; amazingly, I found I was still not finished either. My whole being was alive with sensations, agitated and aflame, I started matching his strokes, then, with alarm, complained as he lifted me and pulled out of me.
I grabbed for his shaft, “Why? I need more.”
“Then ask me what you want. Turn around; we’ll do reverse cowgirl,” he used his hands to turn me away and take up the new position.
As I tried to lunge down and impale myself once more, he pulled his cock to the side and told me to tell him what I wanted him to do.
“Fuck me, you bastard! You bloody well know what I want.”
“I do know what you want. But remember, you are my slut for this night, and I want to hear you say what you want. So tell me where you want me to stick my cock, you slut.”
His filthy language sent an exquisite craving into my groin. And I obeyed his demand, “Fuck me in my cunt. Fuck me hard in my wet, aching cunt!”
I was surprised to find that I really did mean those words. I was desperate to feel him in me again. But using such filthy language made me look to the settee again to check on Dave.
And I struggled to comprehend that Emma had her head in Dave’s lap, swallowing almost all of his very erect cock. A surge of jealousy washed through my mind. They were only a few feet away from me.
“Oh, God! He’s awake!” I slurred to Owen, who I found had been sitting beside me, playing with my tits.
Owen stretched up to kiss me, “No, he’s not. The pills you gave him will keep him out for at least four hours. He’s having the most wonderful wet dream he will ever experience.”
“But he’s responding to her; he has to be awake?”
“No, anyone would jerk around if they had her lips around them; she gives incredible blow jobs. I promise he’s fast asleep and will only remember it tomorrow as a realistic wet dream.”
It took me a minute to get over my shock, but my body’s needs soon made me ignore the worries I had about what Emma was up to with my husband. I realised he had to be out cold, as there was no way he would be slumped like that with what was happening. And I set too, matching my bouncing arse in sync with Hugh and Owen’s ministrations. It was not long before I realised I was quickly approaching another climax. When it hit, I slumped back onto Hugh and shut my eyes tight, savouring the spasms racking my body.
I felt Owen lean over me and ply another of his demanding kisses on my mouth. I parted my lips to receive him, then realised it was not Owen. The tongue invading my mouth was covered in spunk, my husband’s spunk. Before I even opened my eyes, I knew it was Emma that was leaning over me, feeding me the fluid she had just milked from Dave. I tried to turn my head away in disgust.
But Hugh held my head still, “Swallow it all slut; it’s not like you have never tasted him before,” growled Hugh.
I became very aware, at that moment, of what I had become, and worst of all, I knew I was ready for more. The longing that had built in my loins was far from being sated. As Hugh wriggled out from under me, Emma continued kissing while her hand slid down to play with my breasts.
“You have beautiful tits; I wish mine were like that.”
I was about to answer her when someone moved between my legs. Looking over Emma’s shoulder, I saw Liam on his knees, pointing his cock at my opening. I tried to close my legs; the kid was nearly twenty years younger than me. Hugh pulled my leg apart, though, and when I looked over to tell him I wasn’t fucking some kid, the look he gave me told me it was useless arguing, so I just relaxed back onto the sheepskin and opened my legs wide.
The little bugger was actually quite a good lover; he mixed things up. He was rotating his hips in circles, varying his pace to match my movements, even holding still and applying pressure when I got too eager. It took a while, but soon he had me gasping for him to go harder as I was coming. I was urged on by Emma, who was sucking on my tits or tonguing my mouth through all his efforts. Even talking dirty to me and telling me how good a fuck Liam was.
Liam waited for me, and as I came, he let out a few nasty expletives of his own, and I felt an added thrill at the warm feeling as he filled me with spurts of his cum. I was shocked when Emma pushed him off me, though and dived between my legs to eat me out. I shouldn’t have been able to stand her ministrations on my fanny, and I did struggle with the sensations she gave me for a few minutes. But then her efforts started to feel nice, and I lay back and let her give me pleasure as my orgasm slowly subsided. It was beautiful; it dragged my orgasm out for many more minutes than it would have usually lasted.
I looked around the room to see where Owen was. When I located him over on the far settee with Michelle and Julian, a pang of jealousy passed through me. He was kissing her, and she was fighting off his roving hands. Then, pushing my illogical reaction out of my mind, I relaxed back onto the sheepskin and must have zonked out, as I came to, in what seemed quite a long time later, to find Emma beside me, hands still caressing my breasts.
“Was that good? You have been quiet for some time,” she asked.
I was too embarrassed to answer her. The fact that I had enjoyed having her eat me out was too much to admit, even to myself. So I asked a stupid question that I immediately wanted to take back, “Why is Owen over there with Michelle?”
“Oh! That’s my fault. Since Michelle and Julian moved in here over a year ago, he’s wanted to nail her, but she would not have a bar of him. However, I watched her tonight when Owen was fucking you; she could hardly contain herself, couldn’t keep that hot arse of hers still. So I told him tonight may be his lucky night.”
“Won’t Julian get angry?” I asked while watching Owen to check on his progress.
“I’ve known Julian forever; we lived next door to one another. We took each other’s cherries when we were much younger. He would never stand up to Owen; besides, he loves watching. Hell, he has watched me plenty of times over the years.”
As Emma was talking, Hugh moved in behind her with the obvious intention of having her next. I bobbed my head to warn her, thinking she would never be able to accommodate his size as she was a tiny little thing. But when I murmured this to her, she laughed, “I’ve had Horny Hugh many times this past year. I love his cock, the biggest I’ve ever had.”
With this, Hugh rolled Emma away from my side and raised up over her and pulled her legs onto his shoulders. Then, he indicated that I was to guide him into Emma’s hairless quim. I did not even attempt to argue with him. His attitude had changed in the last hour. He had taken on the role of master, and oddly, I found that being subservient to him was rather appealing.
Guided by my willing hand, Hugh plunged into Emma. She groaned with pleasure, no pain, no protest; she took about two-thirds of him with no trouble. She was such a petite little thing, no more than five-one tall. To say I was incredulous is an understatement. How could that tiny young vixen take such a massive cock?
Emma pulled my head over her tits, and I rolled onto my knees, then turned all my attention to her perfectly firm little globes. My arse sticking up in the air was way too inviting, so I was not at all surprised to feel someone pushing themselves into my abused cunt. My only concern was, who was it? Who was fucking me now?
It was Julian, and I snapped my head over to the settee. Why would I be surprised? Owen was donkey deep up Michelle. He had her on her knees on the couch, her arms slung over the seat back, and she was moaning for him to fuck her harder. I understood why Julian was plunging into my rear with such angry, hard thrusts.
Emma bent her head back to see where I was looking, “Good! Owen’s finally nailed her.”
Emma pulled my head back to her tits, and I worked my arse around, wondering if there was any chance of my achieving another climax, I had no idea how many I had had, but I must be getting close to my limit; I thought.
The rest of the night is a bit of a blur. I remember Julian coming in me, my slumping down exhausted, and then Owen sticking his messy cock in my mouth and making me clean Michelle’s mess. I felt like a slut then, but I must admit to feeling quite aroused by doing that nasty deed. Later, Owen carried me down the hall to a spare bedroom and made love to me again. I do not have any recollection if I had another orgasm. I may have fallen asleep during it as I woke with Owen handing me a glass of water and two Panadol. He made me drink the mixture even though I resisted, saying I would thank him in the morning. As I drifted to sleep, I heard him telling me he would tell Dave where I was when he finally woke up.
When I next awoke, it was Dave crawling into bed. He cuddled into me and started saying he was sorry. It took me a while to register Daves’s form and smell, and I wondered why he was saying sorry when it should be me apologising. But I was too tired to sort it out. I’m pretty sure we made love, well, fucked might be a better description, as it was all just sex and getting myself off now.
At the first signs of light, I woke to find myself lying on a messy damp towel; I had no recollection of when that was placed under me. I was busting to go to the toilet, so I slipped out of bed and went in search of a bathroom.
I saw a wrack with spare towels, and hanging one by the shower, I hopped in. Moments later, the bathroom door opened, and Owen slipped into the shower with me. Immediately I panicked at the thought Dave might catch us. But Owen started washing me and told me to calm down, as he had talked with Dave.
What he said made little sense, but I did not want to start yelling out and making a scene, so I let him wash and dry me and then lead me back to the bedroom.
Dave was awake, gave me a good morning and, ignoring the fact I was with Owen, took off to the toilet himself. Owen’s hands were caressing my breasts before Dave got out the door. And I spent the next few minutes trying to ward him off. When Dave returned, he drew me over to lie against him and asked if I wanted to talk.
“No! My head is a mess. I need time to sort out all the stuff that happened last night. Maybe later today. You do realise Owen is in bed with us?”
He drew me hard against him, “I asked him to visit us this morning. There is something I have wanted to do all my life, and this seems the ideal time for us to do it.
I could not fully comprehend what was happening and how Dave was taking all this so calmly. I felt an irrational need to fuck him. I needed him to want me, tell me he loved me, and soothe the foreboding feelings permeating my addled brain. I lifted my left leg onto his hip, pushed my groin against him, and almost cried out with joy as I felt him harden against me. His aroused cock pushing against my mound gave me hope that I hadn’t totally stuffed our marriage.
I had almost forgotten Owen, but as Dave reached down and eased himself into my sloppy, worn sheath, I felt Owen ease himself behind me. Realising suddenly what they were about to do, I tried to wriggle out from Dave’s arms. He held me tight and whispered in my ear, “You owe me this; it is something I have always dreamed of doing with you.”
After all that had happened, I realised I could not refuse. So, with much trepidation, I tried to relax and let Dave withdraw and roll me onto my stomach. But I felt lost as he withdrew from me, and I tried to hold onto him, “It will be easier for you in this position for a few moments; then we’ll change positions,” he told me.
Owen fingered Vaseline into my arse, then mounted me and eased himself between my cheeks. There was nowhere near the pain I expected. I guessed that all the sex I had had must have desensitised me somehow. But I stiffened up anyway, and Dave got down beside me, searched my lips, and kissed me. He crooned in my ear to relax and that it was all right. Then he pushed his hand under me, found my clit and started tiny thrusts upon it. It took a while, but as I became more comfortable lying with two men, I did relax and began to enjoy the sensations Owen’s thrusting prick was bringing to my rear end.
It didn’t take long for the pain to ease entirely and for my body to accept the intrusion. And then, as I started responding to his thrusts, Dave helped Owen roll onto his back with me on top. Positioning himself above us, he attempted to insert himself into me. But he had some difficulty inserting himself, as they were both well-hung. There followed some manoeuvring from the three of us, and finally, Dave had himself donkey-deep in my stretched cunt.
And so started my first-ever double penetration. It was fucking amazing; I knew it would not be the last time I would try this. We fucked for a long time and changed positions several times. I came more than once, but it seemed more like an endless series of orgasms. Finally, both guys came, and we all lay beside one another, breathing hard as we came down from our respective highs.
They stroked and caressed me as I lay there, not even embarrassed. Anal had always been such a taboo area, but I really enjoyed it. Dave instigating this made it seem like there was some chance of atonement possible for my actions of the previous night. I felt that my letting him have the double penetration he had asked for may make things right between us later.
We heard sounds of others moving around the house, and Owen hopped out of bed and said he was off to make breakfast for us and not to dally in bed too long.
Dave and I had another shower together, then dressed. Dave refused to let me put on my bra or knickers, no matter how much I pleaded. I was surprised to find he had my panties. The last I had seen of them was when they disappeared into Hugh’s pocket.
I was relieved that Hugh had left for work; I did not know how I would have faced him. At breakfast, everyone treated me as if nothing had happened. Except for Emma, she handed me a slip of paper with her phone number on it and whispered that she wanted to meet up with me sometime.
Around nine, Dave started the car and drove us home. My mind was working overtime about how much I should tell him.
