 |
|||
|
|
Chapter 14
Marriage is a commitment on many levels. One level is trust. Complete trust, however isn’t conveyed or won by the simple act of a ceremony, nor by courtship. I was discovering that the Darling family was much like an onion. Careful diligence would be required to open the many layers without damaging the integrity. I had pieced together enough to know that far, far more was involved than what I had thus learned.
A few days later I received an e-mail from one Stansson Funderburke relating how he had communicated with his former wife. Furthermore he remembers well the times (times? As in more than once?) he had spent with my mother-in-law. He has plans to be in the Atlanta area in a few weeks and would certainly be available to discuss my situation. And, oh yes, he would very much like to meet Ally. I’m fucking SURE of that!
We spoke by phone two weeks later and he agreed to visit me in my office one Friday afternoon. I mentioned to Ally that I had spoken to the “English Gentleman” as her mother referred to him. She was interested in meeting him, but her reaction seemed mixed. I got the distinct impression that she knew far more than she was telling me and wouldn’t really engage in any specific conversation about him. Now, I know how to badger a lowlife, or shake down some scumbag to get information crucial to a case. One not so small problem here – this was my wife. And an extremely intelligent, trial wise attorney. Badgering or any other tactic would only be counter-productive. So I met him in my office.
Stannson Funderburke was how I imagined him. Tall, trim, a mane of silver hair that floated around his head like a halo when he moved but immediately settled into a perfect shape. Either he has great hair or a very expensive hair stylist. Or – both. He has a prominent nose, strong chin and high cheek bones. His fingers are quite long; they reminded me of a pianist’s fingers. Stansson has very dark eyes; almost black, but with unusual bright sparks in the iris. While his appearance could convey a distant personality, as soon as he stepped into the office his eyes lit up and he suddenly became a long time friend I had just met. Eleanor was right.
“Mark my boy, so nice to finally meet you in person. I’m Stansson Funderburke.” He said, grasping my hand in a firm, dry grip. Two quick, short pumps of my hand, a squeeze and release and suddenly we were friends. His eyes held mine with a genuine smile. His manner is contagious.
“It sounds like you’ve having quite a time with your young Allison. Like mother like daughter, eh?” He glided over to a comfortable chair across from my desk and sat down. “Guess her mother’s round heels carried on through.” My change of expression must have clued him to my distaste for that idea so he immediately made his amends.
“Sorry, old boy. A bit of bad manners, that. I shouldn’t have spoken so…disrespectfully of your wife and her mummy. It must be quite a pain to have to endure a woman of such…appetite.” He was very contrite.
“Stansson, my understanding of your relationships is that you are a bit more…shall we say…flexible in your relationships with your wife…and her sister.” I replied. I didn’t want to make the same error he did but I had a hard time thinking that I could. He grinned at that.
“Good one. Flexibility is a good description of my lifestyle. Well, except in certain places.” He grinned at that one too. “I find women to be one of …no, make that the best creation God has placed on this earth. They are both devilishly complex yet amazingly simple. If you don’t argue with them too strongly and understand what they like, they will gladly give you, or at least me, what I want. And what I want is sex. In both quality and quantity…AND…variety.”
Stansson, first I’d like to learn a few things. Okay?” I asked and he nodded his head deeply. “First, what do you do? Or did you do? Are you retired or do you work?”
“I am semi-retired. I was and sometimes still am a deal maker.” He paused, then continued. “I broker deals between corporations that don’t trust each other but need something – a product or service – that the other one has. Most of the time they don’t even know that the other one exists, so I find out who, what and where the solution is. I’m an investigator in that sense, like you are. Businessmen and women have some things in common. Once you’ve earned their trust and show them you understand what they want they’ll help you get what you want. Both of them will let you shag them until it hurts if you can give them what they want. And they will even ask you back to do it again if you do them right the first time.” He laughed at that and I joined him. “I make sure that one company doesn’t fuck over the other. I’m the only one that does the fucking.” He roared at that one, obviously pleased to be able to tell someone what he considered a personal secret. “Some of my contracts had residuals built in so I have some income, but I managed to invest very well and have been able to maintain my positions splendidly. I still consult with a few of my better clients and keep in touch with them so that when the new managers come in I can help them out as well. It gives me the flexibility I need for…other diversions.”
“And you married twin sisters?” I asked.
“NO! I married just one. The other is a freebie! As if pussy is ever free.” He roared again at that. “Marvelous girls they are, too. They help keep me on my toes. And on my back. Usually on their fronts, but occasionally on their backs as well.” He laughed lightly. “Wonderful ladies. Especially since they understand the need for…flexibility.” He grinned widely. He was obviously enjoying his life. And his wife…and her sister.
“But now, a question for you, sir.” He said. I nodded assent. “You are having difficulties keeping your wife…satisfied?” I nodded again, a bit chagrined. “She’s like her mother, eh? Likes a lot of it for a long time?” Again, I nodded. “What have you done so far that seems to work?”
I brought him up to speed with a condensed version of our married life thus far including a few brief details of some of the more notable experiments I had tried.
“Quite imaginative, I must say,” Was his observation. “And has it been working?”
“Well, yes they work, but the effect is just so temporary. The reason I wanted to speak with you is to see if you had met many other women like her…other than her mother, of course.” I answered. “I doubt that there is any ‘cure’ that will render her into a woman with more…normal desires. I don’t want her to have no libido…just to not need to fuck me into an early grave. I don’t want to have to resort to what her father did…turning our life into a sexual carnival of legions of men fucking my wife into near unconsciousness while I stand and watch. Or worse, help.” My gut clenched at the thought of what Jack had gone through all these years. In retrospect, he was doing better than I thought. “And if you had any suggestions as to how I might be able to...reconcile my...well mine and my wife's problem. I don't want to resort to her mother's solution. I am rather old fashioned about that. Of course, so was Jack. And I'm quite sure that he would rather have it the traditional way as well. Any thoughts?” He pondered for a few minutes before speaking.
“It is a rather unique situation that you have. I have seen a few women with the appetite that your wife, as well as your mother-in-law; possess. They are rather rare, after all. Nymphomaniacs aren’t really as common as one might think. Horny women, yes. But having an addiction of the magnitude that your wife and mummy-in-law have is rather scarce. Good thing, really.” He pursed his lips and thought a moment. “There isn’t really a common thread, though. None of them were married and all engaged in a certain amount of amateur or should I say part time 'professional' work. It served to both lessen the desires as well as supplement the income. Some supplemented it quite well. In fact they probably kept their regular job simply for appearances. One or two bouts…maybe three…per week of intense sexual activities seemed to satisfy both their bodies and their economic requirements. But that doesn't help you. Perhaps if I got a better ... comprehension...of your wife's needs and how they are fulfilled I could provide a bit more insight.”
I knew it was coming; I was wondering how he would broach the subject. Quite smoothly, it appeared. I wasn't about to offer what he wanted. He would have to negotiate for it.
“What do you mean?” I asked, knowing full well what he meant.
“Well, perhaps if I could, say, speak to your wife I could ask her a few questions that maybe you haven't thought of. A different perspective, as it were.” He answered. Bingo! There it is!
“I'll get her on the phone right now.” I replied, picking up the handset. As I started pushing buttons he interrupted.
“No...Not exactly like that.” He hastily said, waving his hand back and forth. “I meant that perhaps I could meet with her...and you, of course, to discuss different approaches to the dilemma.” I replaced the receiver.
“I suspected that you would want something like that. To, say, compare her charms to her mothers’? Just how many times DID you fuck Mary, anyway? Did you keep count? I can't imagine that you didn't. Perhaps you can provide me with a few details she...neglected...to tell me.” My response was cool, almost chilly. I had expected him to propose meeting with Ally. I wanted him be to sure that I was NOT in favor of the idea; furthermore I didn't want him getting within arms length of her. In fact, I would prefer one of those 'face-to-face with a pane of glass between them' setups, like what's portrayed in maximum security prisons. I'd be the one standing in the corner with a 12 gauge. Don't misunderstand me, I liked the guy. I just didn't like the idea of having him close to my wife.
He waited a minute, probably waiting to see if I was going to throw him out of the door. He reflected on the question and then answered.
“Five. I visited five times over about 30 months or so. She was a delightful whore. I believe that her husband holds a bit of...animosity...towards me. At least she admitted as such one time. She must have told him a bit of our exploits. Plus she said that she was sated for a bit longer time after one of my visits. I can't say I blame him. He obviously took it personally. But to me it was just...business.” He smiled carefully, almost ruefully. I waited to see if he would continue, musing my response. He said nothing, so I asked:
“Just business? Nothing more? Mary described one of your visits; likely the first one. From what she described your interest seemed a bit more than…business.”
“I take great interest in what I do. In life…” He reflected for a moment. “Especially in all things involving money. Whether a deal or…purchased pleasure. Life is precious and much, much too short to piss away any opportunity… whether it is for profit or pleasure. And your mother-in-law was, or, perhaps I should say, is, a tremendous pleasure. Perhaps you might get an opportunity sometime. I greatly recommend it.” He smiled; it seemed genuine. “I enjoy sexual experiences like some people enjoy a fine wine…or art work. I take great pains to make sure that whomever I’m with…whether I pay her, or not…enjoy it as much as I do. Or, as much as she can. But I don’t love them. I can certainly LIKE them. I fuck them. Then I go home to the women I love.”
I thought about this for a few moments. It was hard to disassociate what I had heard from Mary from this description of universal carnal pursuit. But…what he said seemed real. He honestly couldn’t be targeting Mary or Ally. Mary was a paid source of pleasure. Ally, on the other hand, was an opportunity of proven heritage. Like mother, like daughter. And mother would fuck your brains out; then ask you why you quit so soon. Who could blame him? Well…me.
“So,” I asked “what do you propose?” He waited, thinking.
“Why don’t I come over for a few minutes this evening? I’ll bring something for dinner. Pizza? Do you like pizza? I know a great little place that does a great pizza. And I presume you drink beer?” I nodded. ‘I’ll bring pizza and beer and we’ll have a nice friendly discussion about…oh, let’s say frustrations. Shall we? I’ll pop around about 6:30. Would that work?” He was almost gushing. It got my guard up, but what could I say. Pizza and beer. A quiet conversation. What would be the harm in that? Why were my antennae pulsing?
Chapter 15
I called Ally and told her that he was coming over this evening. She was guardedly enthusiastic. When the door bell rang at 6:30 I made sure that I was the one who answered the door. I opened the door and my heart sank; my cock rose about as fast. The sight was breath taking.
“Mark my boy!” Stansson exclaimed. His arms were around two of the most beautiful identical women I had ever laid eyes on. “I’d like you to meet Patricia and Catherine. Patricia is my wife. Catherine is her sister. Or is it the other way around? Sometimes I forget!” He gave me his biggest smile and the women also smiled and smirked slightly.
They were gorgeous. Auburn hair hanging almost to their shoulders. Eyes so blue that they were violet. Pale complexions covering high cheekbones. And both almost six feet tall. They looked to be between thirty five and fifty and like they spent at least an hour a day in the gym. They each had a small heart shaped birthmark below the left corner of their lips, almost like they had an errant drop of strawberry ice cream trying to escape. I was strongly compelled to try and lick them off. But their eyes…unlike Ally’s eyes that shouted “come fuck me” these two pairs of eyes coolly declared that their quarry was meat for eating. And they looked hungry! One was wearing leather pants that looked sprayed on, a dark blue silk top with a black leather vest. The other was wearing very dark red pants with a cream silk top and a vest that matched the pants. A pair of stiletto heeled boots finished each ensemble. The added height brought the top of their heads level with Stansson’s. Mag-fucking-nificent.
Patricia (or was it Catherine) held two boxes from the little pizza joint up on Buford highway that Ally and I prefer; the label indicated that they were “EBA”, Everything But Anchovies. Did he check on our preferences or was it luck? I doubted that Stansson left anything to “luck. Her sister held a case of Smithwick’s Ale; another one of our favorites. This wasn’t looking like coincidence.
I stepped aside and waved them in.
“Come in, come in. Nice to meet you, ladies.” I remarked, trying to be as cool as possible. Why had the house become so bloody hot all of a sudden? I led them into the kitchen to deposit their items; from there we went to the den. Ally was standing, waiting for our entrance. She seemed as startled as I had been when she saw our guests.
“Stansson,” I began, “this is Allison, my wife. Ally, Stansson Funderburke and his wife Patricia and her sister Catherine. Did I get that correct?” Stannson stepped over and took Ally’s hand in both of his.
“Very nice to meet you Allison. And yes, you got it very correctly.” He answered. As he dropped her hand one of the sisters offered hers and said
“Patricia, dear. So nice to meet you.”
“And I’m Catherine. Quite the pleasure.” The other said, offering her hand as well. Ally looked from one to the other, then at Stansson.
“How DO you tell them apart?” She was as baffled as I was at the complete identicality of the sisters.
“Patricia has a rather prominent freckle on the upper inside of her right thigh.” He replied. Catherine corrected him.
“You KNOW better than that. I do.” Both sisters grinned. Apparently it was an old joke between the three of them.
“Please…sit. We can sort it out…somehow.” I suggested. We all sat, Stansson between his women on the couch, Ally and I in chairs facing them.
“Stansson,” Ally began “you have a rather…original name. Is it a family name?”
“Well…yes. My father was Stanley Everett Edmond Funderburke the fifth. He hated the name. My grandfather, however, threatened to disown him if he didn’t name me after my father. My father hated the name ‘Stanley’ and always went by ‘Stan’. So I was named ‘Stan’s son.’ Pissed my grandfather right off, it did.” He smiled. “But, no, he didn’t disown my father. You can call me ‘Stan’ as well.” Ally smiled at the story.
“Well then, ‘Stan’ it is. So…what was it you wanted to ask me?” She was cheerfully direct. He looked slightly embarrassed, if the man could ever be embarrassed. She was good at asking pointed questions at vulnerable times. But Stan was up to the task.
“Why don’t we have a beverage and perhaps a slice of pie so we can relax while we talk?” He answered.
So we each helped ourselves to pizza and a beer, grabbed napkins and returned to the den.
“I noticed you got the ‘eba’.” I remarked. Did you ask about our preferences or do you not like anchovies?” Again Stan seemed a bit off balance; which was my point.
“I rather enjoy the taste of fishy things…” He said smiling wryly at his wife, who interrupted him.
“I do NOT taste fishy! But if you would restrain yourself from strumpets who have no concept of hygiene…”She retorted before her sister interrupted.
“It was my suggestion. Stan does like anchovies. But they make his cum taste fishy.” She smiled without blushing. Ally blushed instead.
“Oh.” She said and turned to me. “Good idea.” I didn’t have a response for that. We chewed and drank in silence for a minute; Stan smiling broadly the whole time, appraising Ally during the while.
Patricia (at least I think it was Patricia) began the conversation anew.
“Allison…I understand that you have a…condition…that is a bit vexing for you and your husband. One that is similar to your mothers?” She asked. Ally paused for a moment to reflect.
“Well…yes. I do. I take it you’re familiar with my mother?” She looked from one to the other.
“Yes. Stan told us about her a few years ago when he was…visiting…the area. His first wife introduced them.” She said. “She was quite…well; enthusiastic is how I believe that Stan described her.” Ally and I waited to see how this would play out. “He enjoyed her company several times; each time apparently he was impressed with her…stamina.” Catherine picked up the thread.
“Allyson, dear, to be quite blunt, Stan said that she fucked him almost unconscious on several occasions. That seems rather crude, I know. Also hard to imagine. I apologize…but frankly we all know about it so I don’t see any reason to talk around it.” She finished and sat back. I thought I caught Stan with the slightest bit of pink on his cheeks. There was a rather pregnant pause; then Ally sighed.
“Yes. My mother the whore. The woman with the insatiable cunt. The one who can’t ever get enough cock. And then she meets the man who can’t get enough pussy. A match made where? In heaven? Hell? Or just Georgia?” She seemed both chilly and tired of the reminder. Stan spoke up.
“Allyson. Please. I like your mother. I thoroughly enjoyed the times I spent with her. I never meant to hurt anyone, certainly not her, nor you. I went to a professional establishment where she worked. I was never disrespectful of her or what she did.” He stopped to gauge her reaction. She replied:
“I grew up with a whore for a mother. She was a good mother and a good wife to my father; though it may seem hard to imagine. I found out when I became a teenager. I don’t think any of my friends knew. I suspect that I would have heard about it if they did. My parents did everything they could to be discrete about it. But I knew. And it hurt. She explained it all many, many times. As I got older I got…used to the idea. But I hated it. Then it happened to me. I’ve tried to fight it like she did. But that doesn’t work. You found out about me. My mom’s out of the business. I bet if you tried to contact her, father would likely blow your head off. And now you show up with your beautiful ladies to try to fuck me as well. Isn’t that why you’re here?” She looked Stan square in the eyes. They weren’t saying “come fuck me” now. Stan actually squirmed. He looked like he had been caught by a jealous husband. But Patricia spoke up.
“No. He didn’t. I did.” Ally jumped at that news. “Catherine and I both. We had heard about your mother years ago. When Eleanor called and told Stan about you I caught the strangest itch. Right between my legs. We couldn’t have a party with your mother. You’re quite right about that. But…the idea that we could maybe have a little party with you and your well hung husband there” she motioned at me (actually my crotch – which had demonstrated my enthusiasm for the sisters since I opened the door) “was more than we could handle. So… yes. That’s why we – Catherine and I – talked Stan into bringing us down here. It wasn’t his idea. He’s too much the gentleman, strange as that may sound.” She looked directly into Ally’s eyes. “I had to try. Mark was right. You are one of the most beautiful young women I have ever seen. And it’s all I can do to not rip your clothes off of you, right here in front of your husband…and mine, I might add…and ravish your lovely body. I want to find out what you taste like. I almost hope you do taste fishy.” As she finished speaking I began to detect a whiff of…pussy. But not just Ally’s. Allison looked at her calmly, then at her sister, at Stan and at me, in that order. Then cool as a cucumber asked Stan:
“Mom said that you were kinky. That you always carried a bag of toys with you. Is that true?” He nodded at the question. “Well. Did you bring them along on this little joyride?” Again, he nodded. She turned and looked at me. She wore a slight smile. I felt like a deer trapped on the Atlanta Interconnector starring down an eighteen wheeler doing 70 mph. She turned back to the three on the couch. “I haven’t said anything to Mark about this. He might not like the idea. But anyway, go get your toy bag. Then come back and fuck me.” The aroma in the room grew to astounding proportions.
Chapter 16
Startled? Me? I felt like I was wishing for that eighteen wheeler. The one thing I most didn’t want, my wife just invited in. But…then there are the sisters. In life there are always trade-offs. Maybe two for one for an evening was a fair trade. I was certainly going to see if those birthmarks tasted like strawberry!
Strangely enough, we finished up dinner at a rather leisurely pace. After Ally’s announcement we found a bit of small talk to keep the conversation flowing. When we were finally finished Ally stood up and said,
“The women will take the plates and bottles to the kitchen. Then we’ll meet you in the playroom.” With that she picked up my plate and hers, as well as both bottles and walked toward the kitchen. I could swear that the roll in her hips was a bit more pronounced than usual. I couldn’t take my eyes off her ass. Neither could Stan, saw him lick his lips right before he saw me catching him. He looked a bit guilty.
“Damn. You have a most beautiful wife.” He said quietly. Catherine heard him, just the same and turned to us both. Then she stuck out her tongue, ran it around her lips and winked at us. She then turned and joined Ally and her sister.
“As do you. Twice.” I replied. “This way.” I said, leading him to the playroom. He chuckled at the sign I had hung on the door. It read “Allyson’s Whorehouse”. It had ticked her off at first, but I had explained that she was MY whore, no one else. I took the sign off as we stepped in.
“I’ll be right back.” He said and disappeared to fetch the toys. He returned shortly, a gym bag in his hand. He wandered around, looking at the collection we had amassed. He approved of the beam, also the Sybian. I had built a variety of things, including a set of stocks, a rack, a seatless bondage chair. He opened a cabinet revealing our collection of whips, paddles, crops and flogs. Also the various vibrating accessories, hoods, gags and cuffs. It was the electrostim equipment that gave him pause.
“You’ve used this a lot?” He asked. I shrugged.
“Some. It can get pretty intense.” I answered. “She doesn’t particularly like electricity, but once she’s bound and gagged she can’t stop me. Afterward she’s usually so wrung out that she never complains.” He shook his head slowly. Then the women appeared.
Allyson was wearing a very sheer black robe. It was so sheer that it looked like she was simply walking in a plume of smoke. Patricia and Catherine were wearing matching black thongs and nothing more. Their boobs were at least as large as Ally’s and all four stood high and firm. Nipples the size of the first joint of my thumb stood upon large, dark pink bases at least two inches across. Flat, taut tummies graced waists that seemed too small to support the boobs above. Their hips had begun to slightly show the inevitability of spreading; but maybe it was just because the waists were so tiny. Two pairs of legs that looked like they worked out on a stripper’s pole frequently (perhaps they did?) and went all the way to the paradise hidden behind the skinny strips of lace. Now, where was that freckle?
I was stunned, as was Stan; I think all of the oxygen was suddenly sucked out of the room. At least out of my chest. Ally stepped into the center of the room and placed her left foot slightly ahead of the right and bent her knee so that her foot was resting on the ball. She shrugged her shoulders and the robe fell away; her hands slightly away from her hips, palms facing forward. She was exquisitely displayed. The other two women were beautiful; Ally was still the most spectacular jewel in the setting.
“How do you wish to ravish me?” She asked quietly. Stan said nothing, but picked up two pairs of cuffs and a spreader bar. He handed one pair to Patricia and the other and the bar to Catherine. He pointed to the beam and began to remove his shirt. He kept an eye on the women as he stripped to his shorts and began sorting through the whip collection. I followed his lead, leaving my boxers on. He asked me so the women could hear:
“How is her pain threshold?” While looking at Ally I answered:
“Once she gets warmed up it is impressive. I think she will take more than she should at times.” He nodded and selected a 3 foot signal whip. It was lightly loaded and had a half inch wide tip. Ally had dropped the robe so that the sisters could attach her to the hoist line. Her wrists were attached to the spreader bar, her ankles clipped together. They stretched her up to her tip toes and stepped back. Stan started swinging the whip back and forth, finding his range. He moved a bit closer and barely brushed the end across her tummy. The sensation first caused her to jump; then she settled into the feeling. He swept the tip of the whip back and forth, painting thin lines from her thighs to her shoulders. He moved to one side, painting up and down before moving to duplicate the stripes on the other side. He stepped behind her and began again. She gasped as the lines began to burn a bit more fiercely. He stopped and retrieved another spreader bar and handed it to his wife. He made a circular motion with his hand; she began to let Ally down. Catherine let her down as her sister applied the spreader bar to Ally’s ankles.
Patricia pulled her left foot away from the center; her pussy was swollen and red. As her legs parted, so did her labia. A flood of liquid rushed out, some running down her thigh, some splashing onto Patricia's hand. She licked at it and said:
“Mmmmm. Tasty!” She smiled at us. The area on the inside of her legs that was protected from the whip was still white. Patricia attached the spreader bar and opened Ally up even more. Stan handed her a blindfold. Patricia put it over Ally's eyes and stepped back. The sisters gently pushed Ally down and attached the hoist snap link to the spreader bar between her ankles. They held her and guided her as her feet rose up, inverting her. I had installed flush mounted rings in the floor; the spreader for her wrists was attached down, stretching her.
Stan picked up a horsetail flogger, so named because of its appearance. This one; however was made of monofilament strands, each one thin, but with the ends cut at an angle. Depending on how it was used it could get very intense in a hurry. The strands were gathered and mounted on a swivel so the plume could be easily swung in a windmill fashion.
While Stan was torturing my wife, Patricia and Catherine were examining our collection of toys. Patricia was most intrigued with the Sybian. She picked up the attachments, carefully looking at each one. She kept one eye on her husband while considering her selections.
Stan started whirling the strands gently, moving up to brush Ally's pussy in an upward direction. She gasped as the strands began to caress her loins and inner thighs. Once that area had attained a rosy patina, Stan stepped around to apply the same technique to her ass.
Patricia caught my attention and motioned toward the Sybian. I nodded and pointed to the accessories; she picked the medium sized insertable; I installed it in into the machine. I took the Sybian off of the shelf and placed it on the floor, plugging into a wall socket and holding the controller away from the unit. Patricia found a bottle of lube and slicked up the insertable, and then squatted down, slipping the knob into her already receptive pussy. As she settled into position she didn't see me pick up a couple of pairs of cuffs, a length of chain and a ball gag. I bent down and applied the cuffs to her wrists. She watched me without comment, though I could see a look of concern on her face. I snapped a lock on the cuffs on her wrists first, trapping them behind her back. Ankle cuffs came next with a chain stretched between them across the machine behind her. By lifting her ankles off the floor I made sure that she wasn't going to be getting herself off of the machine. Then came the ball gag. She hadn't seen that so it took her by surprise. Too late! She was straddling the machine, feet off the floor, hands behind her, squirming as I turned the machine on low. Her eyes lit up at the sensation. The dildo was making a slow oscillation around the inside of her cunt while the ridges on the front of the panel vibrated her pussy lips and clit. I watched as she enjoyed the feeling. I waited until she closed her eyes – I knew she would – and when she did I snapped a clover clip on one now erect nipple. As her eyes opened wide the other one found its mark on the other side. Stan was tormenting my wife, I was going to return the favor!
Ally quivered as the strands whirled around and around, painting her ass into a pink glow. Stan stepped back around, still whirling the brush. He flipped his wrist and the horsetail was now spinning in the downward direction. Again he moved the flogger into Ally's groin. She gasped again as the strands flicked into her thighs, she moaned as it moved down to brush her pussy. He increased the velocity and striking force. She moaned louder. The strands whirred, the sound sizzling through the room. The impact of the strands against the soaking flesh splatted liquid over her abdomen. The strands spread a fine mist into the air.
Stan backed off, surveying my wife's body. She hung, stretched; quivering. She cocked her head as her ears followed the sound of the spinning flogger as it moved behind her. The sound intensified as it moved into the crack of her ass. I watched her bite her upper lip as the strands made their impact felt. He moved the impact zone up and razed her thighs, first the left then the right. He moved over to get a more stable position to the side and held the flogger away, speeding it up. Swirling the flogger with even more force he started between her legs at the knee level. He moved it down to attack her pussy, the motion moving from the labia towards her ass. She jumped at the intensity of the impact, the rosy hue turning quite red. He brought the flogger down through the crack of her ass and stopped. He left her shaking.
Stan stood and stepped over to stand beside me.
“Impressive!” He said quietly so only I could hear. “She warms up beautifully. Excuse me for being blunt, but your wife is quite the little pain slut.” I nodded.
“Sometimes too much so.” I replied. “I'm afraid that she will be injured sometime and not realize it.” He nodded back.
“Possible. Very possible. We'll be careful.” He smiled and started looking through his bag of tricks. He looked up and caught Catherine's eyes and motioned with his head toward Ally. She responded with a lifted eyebrow and a lick of her lips. He nodded and watched as his mistress began to lick the inside of Ally's thighs. Patricia watched her, shaking from the effects of the Sybian. Catherine slowly and carefully washed all of the juices from Ally's legs and moved down to sup from the fount between her legs. Catherine stuck her tongue onto Ally's asshole and licked forward then stepped quickly around in front, drawing the tongue as deeply as possibly through her labia, sucking at the opening and ending by sucking hard on her clit. When Ally started gasping she stopped and backed away, leaving her hanging and shaking.
“PLEASE!” She shouted. “Please! Don't stop. Please! Let...Let me cum!”
Stan looked amused. He knelt down to her and placed his mouth close to one ear.
“Only when I think you deserve it. Until then...just enjoy the torment. It's going to get a LOT worse!” He grinned as he said it. She couldn't do anything more, but her head hung down limply.
Stan stood back up and retrieved from his bag a shiny stainless Wartenburg Wheel. He began drawing it across her skin, starting at her feet, making sure that her soles were properly tickled. He was methodical, covering every portion but not in a progressive fashion. Rather he tormented one area then moved to a different area completely, giving no indication what part would be attacked next. He paid frequent repeat visits to her breasts and loins, as well as her armpits and the backs of her knees. An occasional swipe across the sole of one or the other foot guaranteed a jerk and moan. Her nipples had already swelled and puckered; her pussy dribbled fragrant fluid up and out, down both her abdomen and her ass. She twitched and shook. A gasp might escape only to change into a moan or a short scream. As I said before...he was good.
Meanwhile I was doing all I could to drive his wife into a frenzy. She was well on her way. I had added a posture collar to keep her facing what her husband was doing to my wife, so she couldn't really see what I was up to. Then I had picked up a tiny little flogger, generally described as a pussy whip and was taking careful swings at her breasts, tummy and shoulders. Occasionally I found her clit; that always got an additional twist and jump. Her sister kept an amused eye on both subjects, she would catch my eye and wink, or lick her lips; always while tweaking a nipple and slowly rubbing her palm across her pussy. All three of them were contributing to the heady aroma in the air.
I continually adjusted the speed and intensity of the action of the machine stimulating Patricia. I never let her get too close to an orgasm, always watching her face and the muscles twitching at the juncture of her thighs. When I moved into her field of view her glares at me were either pleading or fierce. I don't think that what I was doing was what she had had in mind. Tough...shit.
Stan tired of the wheel and decided to kick things up a notch. He found another whip, this one a four foot lightly shot loaded bullwhip. It had a medium sized fall and a thin cracker. He swung the whip around his head, limbering up and finding his distance zone. It was a bit close with all of us in there; he would have to pay close attention to us as well as his victim. He cracked the whip a few times; each time getting a sharp jump from both trapped women. I kept an eye on him myself; I didn't want to be a target either deliberately or accidentally. He apparently had acquired a bit of skill with the instrument. He cracked the whip and wrapped the fall around each of Ally's legs without raising more than a light pink line. That's not to say that she wasn't terrified by the sound and subsequent impact; but the impact was far more impressive by its bark than by its bite. While I was standing still and adjusting the controller stimulating Patricia to ever increasing heights, I heard the crack just a bit closer than I expected. The fall landed over my right arm and wrapped around my left side. I jumped as well, but realized that the whip hadn't landed with sufficient force to do more than startle me. Nevertheless, I caught a statement in the action and before he could retrieve the lash I caught it in the crook of my elbow. The controller was in my left hand, I grabbed the thong with my right hand, pulling him unexpectedly close to me. With my face a mere inches from his I looked rather harshly into his eyes and said quietly,
“I'll take that as a mistake. There won't be any more. This is my house. My castle. If I put the lot of you out there will be some damage. Understood?” I wasn't going to put up with any of his pushing my line. He nodded slowly.
“Sorry about that, my good man. It...got out of line. Will not happen again.” He replied just as quietly. I nodded in return and released his whip. He moved back over to make sure he had plenty of room and began again.
He was raising some stripes now, but not large welts. He finished by cracking the tip against Ally's right buttock. Not hard enough to leave a gaping laceration but a nice red welt the length of my index finger, on the edge about two inches from her asshole. She would be sitting on her left cheek for a few days.
By now both wives were stimulated well past their comfort zones; they had been held on the edge of orgasm for almost two hours. Catherine had enjoyed a couple of gentle cums to help keep her sanity, but neither Stan nor I had had any relief. It was our turn as well. I released Patricia and helped her up as Stan and Catherine lowered Ally and allowed her to recover, lying on the floor.
I moved some of the things out of the way and moved over to a cabinet covering most of one wall. One movement and the king size Murphy bed hidden within the cabinet began to slowly drop down to the floor. It was already made up. Pillows were stored in the bottom of the cabinet but I didn't bother. Right then all we needed was a comfortable surface to fuck on. I guided Patricia on wobbly legs to the bed were she fell face down, rolling onto her back. Stan and Catherine helped Ally to the bed and eased her down also onto her back. Catherine began slowly tracing circles around Ally's breasts with a fingertip. Stan slipped off his shorts and knelt at Ally's side, spreading her thighs apart while her eyelids fluttered open.
Meanwhile I slipped my boxers off as well and spread Patricia's thighs wide apart and knelt between them. She looked up at me and mouthed words, barely loudly enough to be heard:
“FUCK ME!” Her facial expression made up for the vocal volume; I just grinned and shook my head. Instead I dipped my head to her splayed and swollen pussy and sucked her clit into my mouth. I sucked and licked, twisting my head back and forth, watching her face. Her eyes closed and her mouth opened. She lifted her head off the bed, her upper body stiff and shaking. Her legs wrapped around my torso as her crotch bucked against my face; then her legs went straight and stiff, trembling as her body spasmed, once, twice, three times. Then she started to try to buck me off of her pussy. I knew that the orgasm had been a strong one and likely she was too sensitive to tolerate any more stimulation for a few minutes. Tough...shit! I kept sucking and licking; I caught her hands as she flailed at my head trying to dislodge my mouth. Her head rolled back and forth a keening moan came from her mouth.
“Noooo...noooo....nomorenomorenomore...” She wasn't completely coherent. Each lick was agony; each suck torture. I can be a bastard, too. I was successful. She came again; thrashing and twisting, this time screaming at the top of her lungs. Even Stan was impressed. He watched me, his eyes wide, a slight smile on his face as his wife went through the throes of a final gran mal orgasm. I stopped and released her hands. She just quivered. Her eyes were closed, her head moving slowly side to side, fingers grasping and twitching. The muscles in her thighs rippled, her toes were curled into hooks. I think she enjoyed it.
Catherine moved up next to me and whispered into my ear:
“Now...do that to me!” And I felt her tongue slide into my ear. I almost expected to feel it come out the other side. She gave the term “giving head” a whole new perspective. When at last my ear was released I turned and saw this beautiful red headed vixen with what could only be described as a shit eating grin. She put her hand on my cock and gave it a polite squeeze; then moved down to cup my now swollen and aching balls. The grin never left. Her eyes never left mine either, as she moved down and placed her lips around the head of my cock. I watched as my cock slowly disappeared into her mouth, then her throat. Her eyes never strayed from mine as her lips reached my abdomen. I don't know what she did or what she used. But something fluttered against the head of my cock as I felt her throat working, trying to swallow it whole. She did this several times; I was too distracted to count how many, before slowly withdrawing and stopping with just the head in her mouth. Then she really went to work with her tongue. Ever seen the trick where a woman takes a whole cherry, stem and all, into her mouth and then presents the knotted stem on her tongue? That's what I think she was doing to my cock. It was just too thick to get into a knot. I really didn't want to cum in her mouth. No, really! I wanted to wait just a bit longer and try out one of the other two or five orifices available. Oh well. As I began to tremble she sank back all the way until my cock was again in her throat and began the swallowing thing again. Every drop.
Stan was having fun with Ally. She had come around and was flopping around like a caught flounder. He had taken over from Catherine, teasing both her nipples and her clit. When he bent down to give her clit a suck she exploded. Unlike his wife, she didn't try to stop him after the first explosion. She let him do it again. And again. And he kept doing it. By the time we (all three of us) had regained enough of our senses to realize what was happening, she was just cumming constantly, Stan licking and sucking, looking up at us and grinning. After a few dozen orgasms he just winked and shrugged his shoulders at us, still teasing the nub in his mouth, Ally just jerking with every deep breath.
I reached over and touched his shoulder; he looked up and I motioned with my head to let her stop. He did and after a few gasps, so did she. Now Catherine was the only female left to satisfy, and Stan still hadn't had his turn. Stan didn't exactly ignore his sister-in-lust, but he wanted to dip his wick in Ally's cunt. He could sample Catherine anytime he wished. I pushed Catherine down onto her back, she made no resistance. I began to play with her beautiful breasts.
Catherine had been able to take the edge off slightly, but she was still worked up. Her breasts were magnificently swollen with arousal, the nipples even larger than before. I licked the birthmark; maybe strawberry. Definitely delicious. Her lips were incredibly soft; her tongue tried to tie mine into a knot. I decided to see how much of her body I could taste. I made it down to her breasts before she captured my head and held my mouth to her left nipple. Suited me. I teased one, then the other. I used my teeth and when that seemed to increase the reaction I used them harder. She stopped me from chewing them off, but didn't complain about any discomfort. I decided to chew on her clit a while. Her pussy was soaking; it was also delicious. The freckle was on the right side, right where Stan had said. She pulled her hips up and held her thighs while I started licking. I licked from her asshole to the top of her mons over and over. A wild desire led me to start licking her asshole.
She gasped at that and pulled her legs up higher and held her thighs apart with her hands. I placed my thumbs on each cheek and separated the globes, attacking the pucker with my tongue. It relaxed, allowing me to gain a bit of entrance. I tongue fucked her asshole as she squirmed; then moved up and captured her clit with my lips and teeth. I chewed gently, sucking and licking. I was able to pull the hood away and suck the nub into my mouth. She was going to either cum or have one hell of a hickey the next day. The quivering thighs on either side of my head indicated an impending climax.
She exploded, squirting into my mouth and bucking against my face. I expected her to shake me off, but no. I continued and she did too. She must have cum at least a half dozen times before my mouth and neck got sore from trying to keep up with her shaking. I stopped and backed away and watched. At last she calmed down, gasping in deep breaths. She smiled at me through narrowed eyes.
“Thank you!” She said huskily. “Veerry nice!”
I looked over at Stan who was busy pounding my wife. He would plunge for a few strokes; then pull almost all the way out, pause, then renew his attack. He was quite well endowed; Ally seemed to appreciate both his size and prowess. Her legs were pulled up; her heels resting on his butt. Her hands rested on his shoulders; her eyes were closed. He alternated sucking her neck and her nipples as he thrust away. He saw me watching and grinned but never lost a stroke. After awhile doing that he reached back and grasped her hips, rolling them higher. He pulled out and dipped his hips; then smoothly slipped his cock into her asshole. All the slippery fluids dripping – no, flowing - from Ally's pussy made the puckered entrance as slick as her cunt. Her eyes opened as did her mouth; her lips forming an “o” as he slid home. He waited a tick for her to relax and continued his stroking, although a bit more gently. That didn't last. He released her hips and grabbed her breasts, cupping them with his palms and pinching the nipples. I watched as his fingers increased the pressure. When she moaned he grinned and twisted them slightly. She moaned again, but it didn't seem like a complaint. His fingers tightened on her globes and he twisted both boobs back and forth. She was going to have bruises the following day. She didn't seem to mind. He started biting her neck and chest, low enough so that a blouse would cover the marks. He left impressions a pathologist would delight in. She was going to be a sight for a few days.
By this time my cock was finding some life returning. Having a very wet pussy handy I slipped into Catherine's very wet and receptive opening. Patricia had regained some semblance of consciousness and slipped over to help. She caressed us both, slipping her hand between us and circling my cock with her fingers and thumb while I slowly fucked her finger. She made a motion with her head to her sister who just nodded. I wasn't privy to the language so she put her lips close to my ear and said:
“Cat is going to roll over so you can fuck her from behind. I'm going to slip under her so I can lick you as you stroke. Then you can fuck both her cunt and my throat. Okay? Please?” She paused and then added “All the way down my throat. Please?” I just nodded and felt my cock harden even more.
They made the maneuver with a smoothness that told me that they had done it many times before. Catherine was straddling her sister's face; Patricia had folded up with her legs under Catherine’s arms, her pussy and ass spread and beckoning. I slipped in behind Catherine; I felt Patricia's hand guide me into a very hungry pussy. I realized that Catherine at least exercised more than just what was visible. Perhaps her gym was at home? Her pussy gripped me like a fist, pulsing and relaxing. This was fucking amazing! She would release me to allow me to withdraw then clamp down as I returned. I felt Patricia moving under us, her tongue licking at my cock as I withdrew. Her hand pushed against my thigh as I started to withdraw and I slipped all the way out. I wasn't out for long. Patricia's mouth found my cock and her lips slid up to my belly. Her tongue started doing a dance; apparently she knew the cherry trick as well. It felt too good to stand it long; I pulled out and plunged back into the steamy cauldron of her sister's cunt. Patricia wasn't to be denied for long either. She pushed me away again and once more swallowed my cock. This was incredible. Why in the hell would Stan ever leave home? I looked up to see him balls deep in my wife's ass and answered my own question.
As I moved forward to return to Catherine's furnace she put her hand on my cock and aimed it up while dipping slightly. She bumped back and I found myself embedded in her ass. I pushed all the way in and she began the massage again. I looked over her shoulder and saw that while her sister was dancing her tongue over our joined parts, Catherine was returning the favor. Patricia was still too sensitive to stand a constant laving of her clit, so Catherine alternated between sucking her clit, her flowing spring and the quivering pucker. She wasn't shy about teasing the asshole. I watched, entranced, while she opened the rosebud with her forefingers and plunged her tongue as far inside as she could. Her mouth latched onto the hole and I saw her cheeks hollow as she sucked.
I could feel Patricia start to shake, her ministrations to my cock had faltered as her attention shifted. Not that it mattered to me. I just kept stroking into the flaming hot asshole surrounding my cock, the muscles holding me firm. At last when Catherine had eased up on her sisters loins I felt the familiar hand on my thigh. I eased back, curiously, and immediately the mouth returned, sucking me all the way back down. This was a really kinky family. Not that I minded, thank you very much.
I wasn't going to hold out too much longer. I watched Stan and Ally; he had placed his arms on the outside of her legs, leaning his torso against her thighs. His left hand was tormenting her right nipple; his right hand was hidden between them. Suddenly her eyes opened wide, his fingers having found her clit and begun pinching and twisting as he had been doing to her nipples. He leaned down and put his mouth against her ear, telling her something. Her eyes grew wider still and her head started flailing form side to side. Her scream started with a gasp and grew to a bellow.
Ally is a strong, fit woman. Stan is a strong, fit man. He wasn't even close to a match. He started spilling into her ass as she began her gasp. Luckily for him his orgasm hit before her scream began. Because once she started bucking and thrashing he had the presence of mind to scramble away before she flung him off the bed. Ally drifted into some other universe as Stan flopped over next to Patricia. When I saw Catherine's mouth engulf Stan's cock all the way to the root, a comet exploded in my brain and I don't quite remember what happened for a few minutes after that. When I regained awareness the first thing that came to my mind is that Ally and my life had just had an irreversible change.
Epilog
Ally and I had several discussions about the evening after the trio left on Saturday afternoon. We had a gentle morning of breakfast after which Patricia and Catherine got their wish to ravish Ally. Then while Ally rested in a daze proceeded to fuck and suck Stan and my cocks to a frazzle. We watched as they departed down the street. I didn't ask Ally what Stan had said to her that helped create such a strong explosion; but when Stan called later the next week I asked him.
“Well, I just described a bit of what I had done once to her mother. Then I told her that I was going to find a way to get to her mother and do it again. Only the next time Ally would be tied up, sucking her mother's cunt and asshole while I did it. It seemed like it was a bit stimulating for her, don't you think so?” He answered rather matter of factly. I could picture the scene in my mind and got a bit hard myself thinking about it. My other thought was whether Jack would still be alive at the time. Unlikely. Stan had an interesting proposal; one that I would have never even considered a week before. But I had to give it some thought and also discuss it with Ally. I truly love her more than life itself and could never give her up. But perhaps a trade for a few days...?
The end.
|
|
|