Challenges of Marrying a Sex Addict

Snark

Chapter 1

       She fucks like the Energizer Bunny.  On speed.  That's not being derogatory, just descriptive.  If she were to read this (which is unlikely) she would likely agree.  She's every man's wet dream, including mine.  The problem is that you wake up in a nightmare.

       Looong legs, trim ankles, tight calves, granite thighs joining at paradise on both sides.  On the front is a cleft with petite lips and an exaggerated clit.  It's abso-fucking-lutely delicious.  Her clit hood slides back when she is excited and the little bud peeks out.  It's usually dripping.  On the reverse is an ass that you can bounce a quarter off of (I did it once just to see.)  Her pucker winks at you.  Abs like corrugated metal.  Boobs that I actually saw make a baby start drooling.  I also saw a guy turn to stare at them as he walked into a utility pole.  (A large splinter went through his earlobe; I don't think he realized it until later.)  High cheek bones in perfect symmetry, emerald eyes that you can fall into; eyes that radiate “Come fuck me. NOW!”  Strawberry blonde hair that glows like a crown; dropping in waves from the top of her head to just above her shoulder blades.  She stands 5'8”, but in the 3” heels she usually wears she looks like she could play as an NBA forward.  The heels enhance her legs, of course.  That's why she wears them.  That and the fact that the added height will guarantee every man around will see her.  And drool like a baby.  Women, on the other hand, tend to wear a different expression.  Most have a squinty eyed glare.  The rest of the women drool like the men. 

       Did I mention that she's gorgeous?

        I walked into a local attorney's office in Buckhead while the receptionist was taking a break.  I do investigative work, attorneys are my bread and butter.  So when Alyson (my soon to be wife, unknown to me at the time) stepped out to see who was in the lobby I got my first glimpse of her.  I think my heart actually stopped for a few seconds – all my blood drained into my crotch.

       “Hello.” she said. “May I help you?” And she smiled. 'Yes, yes you can,' I thought. I thought of maybe a dozen or three ways that she could help me.

       “I'm Mark Stevens. I do investigative work for the firm. I dropped by to see if Jerry is available.” I answered, wiping off a drop or two of drool. I suddenly noticed how hot it was in the office. Slightly warmer than the surface of the sun.

       “I'm Alyson Darling, Mr. Stevens. It's nice to meet you.” She replied. Her Southern lilt was delightful; for that matter she was delightful all over more than any place else. At first I thought that maybe she had used the southern familiarity. Some women call men “darling” without even meaning to flirt.

       “You can just call me Mark,” I said, “Hopefully you will call me darlin' later. Some people call me Stevens, some even just Steve. Just don't call me too late for dinner.” She giggled at that.

       “NO, no, it's my last name.  I'm a Darling.” She giggled.

       “You certainly are.” I smiled.

       “You can call me Alyson; though I'll answer to Alice or even Ally.” She said laughing.

       “Actually, I'd just as soon call you 'Darlin'” I quipped. “Can I call you for dinner?”  I was really thinking 'can I call you dinner? Lunch? How about my morning snatch? I mean snack. Breakfast in bed is a wonderful way to start the day...' I had to stop thinking. She blushed. 

       “Weell...I have been called that, too.” She laughed and blushed again.  This brought a rose to her cheeks. And brought a greater rise in me.

        I stumbled over to shake her hand; something had suddenly interfered with my left knee. She smiled again; I almost wet my pants. Not with pee. Her hand was both soft and firm; warm, inviting. Her handshake has an amazing property; her squeeze pulses slightly. The first instinct is to immediately move it to your crotch. My next instinct was to grab her and hustle her off to a private spot for an hour or 20. It only took me a few minutes to ascertain that not only was she heart breakingly beautiful; she's mind blowingly intelligent. Believe me when I say that such a package can be incredibly interesting. Believe me when I say that when you marry such a package that it becomes an incredible challenge. 

       She led me into the offices; I limped along with her, my left pants leg was still too tight to allow proper movement (yes, I'm right handed.)  I think she may have noticed, but she already knew she had that effect on men, not to mention a few women.  She certainly had that effect on me.  We had dinner together that night.

Chapter 2

       We had a whirlwind romance, a storybook wedding in a tropical setting and a honeymoon like a tornado.  Maybe a blender.  It was perhaps 9 months later that I found out “The Rest Of The Story”.

       She is what I grew up calling a nymphomaniac; the more accepted term today is that she has an addiction. A sex addiction.  She had been in counseling for several years; apparently it had worked, kind of.  Almost.  One of the recommendations is to focus on something else when an urge strikes.  An alcoholic might be able manage that. But a 26 year old female body pumps out these chemicals called hormones that physically drive the mind to think about procreation; a preservation of the species thing.  The problem is that she considers it to be recreation; procreation has never been a concern.  An alcoholic can call a friend or sponsor.  She's more likely to call a 900 number.  Come to think of it, she could answer 900 number calls.  (Note to self: it's safer than renting her ass by the hour. Maybe a web cam site would be even better.)  She had managed to “dry out” so to speak, when her therapist deemed her ready to begin dating again.  After being celibate for 18 months, dutifully taking her meds, re-focusing her thoughts on non-libidinous things; when she could watch the volleyball game  in “Top Gun” without her panties becoming soaked (don't laugh, that's just one of the tests her therapist devised) she was ready to be unleashed upon the world.  Just in time to meet – me.        

       Being with her, lust is just a part of the universe; like oxygen or cosmic rays.  It just is.  It permeates the air around her; around us when we're together.  We didn't have sex before we were married.  I still can't believe it. To her credit, she resisted having sex at the instruction of her therapist.  I guess I was too much in awe of her beauty.  That, and the fact that she was just so much fun to be with and talk to that I forgot about it.  Okay, she did mention on the second date that if I tried to get into her pants she had no other choice but to drop me, right then, that second and go home alone. Doctor's orders.  Thanks, Doc.  Bite me.

       I had no illusions that she was a virgin on our wedding night.  But she was so tight that she could easily pass for one.  An hour of Pilates, yoga and kegel exercise a day will do that for you.  Her other aerobic workouts serve to enhance the rest of her body and limbs.  I try to stay in shape, but after we married I discovered that just fucking her is the equivalent of a half marathon.  How can any man be so...lucky?  Being in rather fit physical condition myself (I mistakenly thought) was all that saved me from an early death from cardiac arrest - between multiple daily sexual bouts and an elevated aerobics regimen (sleep?  Who needs sleep when you're fucking Aphrodite?) then sandwiching a little work to make the mortgage payment; that took up all of my time - but ultimately saved my life.

       About 9 months into our marriage her addiction reared its' ugly head.  Her appetite requires not just quantity but also variety.  It seems I'm not enough variety by myself.  Come to think of it, no one is.  She began to get a little bit bored with just me, though heaven knows I tried to invigorate our love life with as much imagination as possible.  Tie her up and tease her?  You bet!   Handcuff her hands behind her, strap a vibrator on low in her pussy, put a butt plug in the back, place her on her knees and let her suck the old sausage for an entire NFL Sunday marathon – sure.  Be damn sure there is a towel or two under her or you'll be shampooing the carpet. She didn't get bitchy, or complain or pout; she just wanted more sex more often. Cock calluses are not fun.

       An example of a typical evening after 8 months:  She arrives home around 6, if I'm in early and not following some bozo cheating on his old lady with some 19 year old trollop, we're in the sack by 7:30.  We both enjoy doing the mutual munching, she actually adores sucking my (okay, any) cock.  A little grope and tickle to get the motors reving.  Specifically my motor; hers idles at 5000 rpm.  I absolutely looove sucking on those big nipples.  They stay stiff most of the time but I can always get them to stand out a little bit more. I swear I can feel them grow in my mouth.  Tugging on them with my teeth makes her moan.  Me too.  My moaning sends vibrations through her tits; that adds more pressure to the accelerator. I'll lick my way from her magnificent lips down through the valley of depth (between her boobs) to her navel.  A bit of tongue action there translates directly to her pussy.  By this time her pussy has started to swell and open; this releases her dammed up juices and the bed (hell the bedroom, soon the whole house) starts to smell very strongly of her very sweet pussy.  At this point she will roll me over and turn around.  She, well we, prefer the female superior position for 69; I slip a firm pillow under my hips and head and she puts her knees on each side of my chest, legs under my shoulders.  She has no problem getting to all of my 9” and my balls. Her yoga and Pilates gives her great flexibility, she can arch her back down and present her clit to my lips or arch her back up so I can sip from her nectar filled cup, a little more and I can lick her delicious ass hole.  Everything about her is delicious.  I wouldn't be surprised if her shit tastes good.  I haven't actually tried it...yet.  I'm just sayin'.

       She can work on me for literally hours.  The first time she put my cock into her mouth she slid her lips all the way to my abdomen, her eyes on mine the whole time. I should have had a warning when a slight glimmer of what – disappointment? - flickered across her eyes when her lips made contact with my abdomen.  Like, isn't there another inch or six to swallow?  She waited and sucked on it, then sloowly pulled back, her cheeks hollowing from the vacuum.  I thought she was going to suck my cock inside out.  Maybe she was going for more length, like those penis extenders that you see advertised.  I swear that when I put my pants on the next day my legs were shorter.  She did that three more times, her tongue swirling around the whole stroke. I was almost delirious.  It was only later that the thought that maybe she had done this a time or two before she met me came to mind.

       She alternates a quick full stroke bobbing with a slow sucking all the way down, stops then pulls almost off.  She can also suck both balls into her mouth and toss them around like grapes.  The first time she did that I made her hair sticky.  I've gotten used to her talent now; I believe the word is “jaded”. I won't let her near a trailer hitch; the chrome doesn't stand a chance.  I'm tempted to get her to try a golf ball and garden hose, though.

       She is really into delayed gratification.  It's the trip, not the destination. And she is really a trip. After a couple of hours of this – she knows how to tease me then back off just before I blow my load - and the top of my head- off;  she'll finally come and get me off as well.  Then, somehow, she'll get me hard again. Which should be impossible after the workout we just had; then gets me on top to poke her for a while.  By this time my cock is numb, my balls are dry and she's not even winded.  My heart feels like a bass drum in a Marine Corps band. But she can squeeze me with her pussy, pumping me; almost like it's replacing the heart function that by all rights should be in arrhythmia. It only takes me another hour or two to cum again. We'll move from standard missionary to crossing her ankles behind her head (yoga, again) to doggie style to spooning.  All the while she'll be slowly teasing her clit, circling it with her finger or touching a mini vibrator to it, sending a Morse code to my cock.  Dash, dash, dot.  Dot, dot, dash.  I think she's sending “Don't stop, don't stop.”  As if I can. When we do at long last finish I'm comatose until morning; at which time she's ready for a “quickie” which only takes about an hour.  Go to work, come home, repeat in a different position.  Hey, I'm 29, now going on 60.  I'm really in trouble.

Chapter 3

       She took me with her to visit her therapist.  That's when the story really began to unfold.

       “Alyson, it's good to see you again!  How are you? And this is your...husband?”  Her therapist, Dr. Cynthia Meyers, greeted us.  Ally and Cynthia embraced, I shook Cynthia's hand.  She was a petite brunette in her late 30’s or so.  Blue eyes, trim body, nicely put together.

       “Cynthia, this is my husband, Mark.” Ally offered.  “Mark, this is Dr. Cynthia Meyers.”

       “Nice to meet you, Mark.  You have a wonderful wife in Alyson.”  The Doc said. I nodded.

       “Yes...she is quite wonderful.  A true delight.” I answered.

       “Come sit down.” She said as she ushered us into her session room.  We sat and Cynthia picked up a note pad.

       “So tell me, how have been doing?  Your call indicated you wanted some advice?” Cynthia asked.  Ally glanced at me, then to her then back to me.

       “Well...I've told Mark some things about me...about before we got married. We got married in a bit of a rush...”  Cynthia's countenance turned worried as she looked at me.

       “You didn't tell him much, did you?”  Cynthia's tone wasn't quite accusatory, but she wasn't exactly happy, either.  Ally just looked at her shoes and shook her head. “I thought that was something we had discussed at length.  That full – that's f-u-l-l – disclosure was truly necessary with any man you might wish to marry.”  Ally just continued to look down, nodding. Cynthia turned back to me.

       “How much do you know now?”  The doctor asked me.

       “I know that she has a rather...voracious sexual appetite.”  I answered.  Cynthia nodded her head in agreement.

       “That's one way of describing her.  Insatiable is another.  She had a rather extreme sexual addiction before; I take it by your visit today that the old desires have arisen again?” Cynthia asked.  Again, Ally nodded, still not looking at her therapist. Cynthia turned back to me and continued.

       “Her...desires almost got her killed before.  The idiot, excuse me, that's a harsh term but the only one that fits – that she was dating, or should I say fucking, tried asphyxiation as a sexual adventure.  Only his quick release mechanism failed.  Twice.  I have to put some of the responsibility on her for allowing him to even try it again.  I can understand being horny...but really!”  Cynthia watched Ally.  Ally just blushed and shrank into the chair. “That's when she came to me.  We had a firm agreement that she would explain all to any future husband.”  Cynthia said.

       “But..” Ally started.  “I didn't want Mark to misunderstand or be afraid of me.  I really do love him.  I wanted to tell him...but I didn't know how.”  Ally was close to tears, her hands were twisting in her lap.

       “Yes, you did.  You could have brought him with you to see me together as we discussed, before the wedding.  Oh well, too late for that now.”  Cynthia turned to me once more. “I suspect that she has about worn you out?”  I nodded.

       “She's working on it.  The last few weeks she's getting harder and harder to satisfy. I'm only one man, and only human.”  I responded.

       “This probably won't come as any surprise but I suspect that either you're going to have to get some help or figure out some method that can provide both of you some relief.” Cynthia advised.  “There are medications she can take and I heartily recommend them, but I doubt that they will be enough.  At least not for some years until her body quits overproducing the chemical mix that is causing the problem.”  Cynthia looked sympathetically first at Ally and then at me.  “Have you discussed expanding your relationship?”   I had a bad feeling about what she meant.  Ally looked up at me with an almost pleading expression in her eyes. She turned to Cynthia.

       “I...I've though about it but I haven't mentioned it to Mark.  I don't want to cheat.  I don't want to lose him.  I don't want to go completely insane, either.”  Ally said.  I now knew what I had only guessed and it didn't feel good. I had to reply.

       “A three way?  Four way?  Gang bang? With just men? Or men and women?  Or a bunch of both...a regularly scheduled orgy...where?  Our place?” I said, a bit distraught.  The idea of sharing my spectacular wife with anyone had never crossed my mind.  Sure, I had the occasional fantasy of her with another woman...but I couldn't handle Ally by myself.  Two of them? Impossible.  I hadn't considered though, to include another woman who didn't expect me to please her as well but would help me “gang up” on Ally could work.  Ally could see my displeasure; she wasn't comfortable with my reaction.

       “This is what I was afraid of,” Ally started, “you wouldn't like the idea...and I understand that.  It's not what I really want...” her voice trailed off.  It wasn't what she necessarily wanted; it was what she necessarily needed. Great.  Just fucking great.

       “Perhaps a bit more strict relationship could help. She did fairly well before with direction and discipline.”  Cynthia offered.  “I suspect that up until now you've allowed her more aggressive side to rule her part of your relationship?”

       “You could say that.” I replied. “I got an absolutely stunningly beautiful wife that craves sex like a junkie craves a fix and I'm a relatively young man with a healthy testosterone output. I have never considered a situation where I needed to put the brakes on my sex life.  Though now I think that my youth may being running out faster than I had expected.” 

       “Your comparing her to a junkie is absolutely correct.” Cynthia said. “She IS a junkie.  And sex is her fix. Just like a junkie she needs an ever increasing dose to satisfy her.  And like a narcotic addiction, going “cold turkey” isn't going to be the best idea.  For her to go cold means that you do, too.  By now I suspect that you may have a pretty healthy 'jones' as well.”  Cynthia offered. 

       She may be right.  While all the sex was wearing me out, it didn't mean I didn't enjoy it.  I just wanted it a bit more moderately.  Maybe only 2 hours a day, rather than 6.  Okay, maybe 2 hours a day three times a week.  Like I said, I'm only human. There was no way either of us was going to have her go through the celibacy thing again; besides there was no expectation that the end result would be any different from the first time.  What to do?

       “I think that you might consider introducing some stricter guidelines in your relationship. Perhaps by taking control of her in a more explicit form.” The doctor continued.  “By you becoming her master and her your submissive.  That way it takes the controlling aspect away from her.  It means that she may be a bit more frustrated sexually, but maybe you can substitute some other activity that will help to relieve her tensions.”  She looked at Ally.  Ally was now looking up again; she slowly nodded.  So our new relationship began.

       Cynthia had helped her earlier by putting her “on the wagon”, prescribing a medication regimen and a mental distraction practice.

       She fell off the wagon onto me, but only after we got married.  The theory was that the responsibility and dedication of marriage would help to keep her faithful and the poor sap (again, me) whom she married would just have to handle her by himself.  As if.

Chapter 4

       I was no stranger to the whips and chains thing, though I had never had a partner that could really get into it.  A little light bondage fucking, an occasional (very rare) submission weekend, was about all any of my partners would allow.  Ally, however, was fine with being a 24/7 sub, as long as it included the prerequisite sex; that being a minimum of 6 hours a day.  Being in strict bondage and being flogged, flailed, caned, cropped, tickled and stretched counted in the 6 hours.  At least my calluses had a chance to heal.  Only even that wasn't enough.  I had to find some way to wean her back to at least a reasonable amount.

               We set up a “fungeon” (fun dungeon? fucking dungeon?) in a spare bedroom.  We both learned something in the process of getting familiar with each other as Master and submissive and in our “play times.”  Once I started warming her up with a light flogger or whip the endorphins kicked in big time.  This reduced her desire for sex – slightly- but increased her desire for more punishment.  So as an added diversion I made her beg for it.  Humiliation turned her on as well.  Now I'm married to a nymphomaniacal humiliation craving pain slut.  Can life get any better?

       Each day is different now.  She still wakes me with her mouth around my cock.  That is the best alarm clock there is. I get up, drain the snake and return for her to finish what she started.  She has to beg for it.

       “Master, may your slut wife please earn your cum?”  Is a typical morning greeting. “Will you please let her fuck your beautiful cock with her throat?        Her day isn't complete unless she gets her morning cum.”  And so forth.  She has a great imagination.  The begging can get pretty descriptive.  Hearing her own voice say these things clearly and distinctly reinforces the humiliating factor and gets her own juices flowing.  I found that restricting her to a quick and simple masturbation display after she has swallowed my sauce is enough to keep her at least a little sated.  No penetration, however.  Just fingers and an occasional assist, like from a stiff nail brush or kitchen scrubber on her clit.  That seems to provide enough release to get her through part of the day.  I usually lock her into a chastity belt that prevents any serious access.  She can work a finger underneath to scratch at her clit with a fingernail or even a fingernail file, but nothing inserted nor long diddling sessions.  She still has her work to do.  As an attorney (though not a partner) in the firm there is plenty for her to do; the chastity belt removes the temptation of playing with her self. (This had become a bit of an issue in the previous few months.)  The enforced restriction seems to have the effect of both removing her choice and forcing her to ignore that nagging little tickle between her thighs.  She can't really get to it; so she resigns herself to ignoring it. It gave me a bit of relief and allowed me to regain both some strength and control over my life.  It was to be short lived; at least it was a break.

       I had let things get out of control.  But put yourself in my position. I was recently married to an absolutely gorgeous young lady with an extravagant sexual appetite.  She wanted LOTS of sex; I wanted her to be happy; I enjoyed fucking.  What's wrong with this picture?  The problem, as I learned and was validated by Cynthia, was that the more she got, the more she wanted.  There was just no limit to her desires.  The only solution was to force her to withdraw from her desires.  I didn't realize this until it was waaay out of control.  And as long as she was getting all the sex that she wanted, what's her worry?  Having to be forced to restrain her desires wasn't nearly as much fun as caving in to them.  Never is.  Unlikely it ever will be.  So I had to be the one to wrest control of this sexual monster that had been unleashed upon me.  Actually, it sucked. 

       All my life I had wanted a beautiful woman who liked sex.  (What straight man doesn’t?)  All my life I heard about poor married schmucks who had to beg, plead or cajole their cold assed wife into a blow job once or twice a year, had never had anal, thought that getting lucky meant a quick screw with the lights out and “aren't you through, yet?” was pillow talk.  I'm married to the hottest, most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on and was constantly telling her 'NO!”  WTF???

       Every man is probably a little curious about his SO's love life before they met. And most would enjoy listening to their little love bunny reveal one or more of their deepest, kinkiest fantasies.  So before I had an intimate understanding of just much my little Georgia peach gets turned on by humiliation, I sat her down in our den, sitting cross legged on a butt plug with her hands cuffed into a reverse prayer position (Yoga, remember?) to tell me about one of her earlier lovers.

       His name is Gerald, Master. He's a few inches shorter than I am, with dark hair that is kinda unruly.”  She started. I pictured a Johnny Depp type of hair style, but she corrected me.

       “It's more like Lyle Lovett.  He's a little pudgy; he doesn't exercise much; he complains that it makes him all sweaty.” Duh! I thought. “He had acne when he was a teenager and is real self-conscious about it.  The scars, I mean.  But he's a lot of fun to talk to.  He can be funny once you get him to open up.  He really understands how to listen to people.” 

       I expected her to next describe how he's hung like Secretariat; but, no.

       “His cock is smaller than yours, Master.  You're hung, Master.  Your cock is a great size.  Gerald's is quite a bit smaller and thinner.  Maybe that's why I enjoyed anal with him so much.”  She stated simply.  Excuse me.  EX-FUCKING-SCUUUSE ME!  A super hot, horny chick talking about a previous boyfriend with bad hair, bad skin, out of shape and a scrawny dick who taught her ANAL??  Apparently when you see a geeky chump with a beautiful gal on his arm it isn't necessarily because of the size of his cock (though we might like to wish it to be so) but because, well maybe because he had the cojones to simply talk to her and ask her out to fuck. Think about that for a minute. When you've finished puking, you may continue with the story.

       I sat entranced, slightly nauseated, but entranced. I could see her pussy start to swell and open.  It glistened.  It wouldn't be long before it started to drip.

       “He knew how much I liked sex.  He called me his little “sloppy pussy” because I sometimes drip a bit.” Kinda like that drip up in Niagara, NY, I'm thinking. “Anyway we spent a weekend together up in the mountains.  We went to Tallulah Gorge and walked around.  He talked to me and told me all kinds of erotic tales and got me all excited.  He would play with my clit and pussy while I sucked on his cock.  He would play with my little ass hole when he started to get real excited, putting a finger tip inside me.  It excited me, too, but I was afraid that it would hurt.  Doing anal scared me.  But then he would cum and not be able to fuck my pussy.  He would just play with it and tell me that he would get me off the next time.  By Sunday afternoon I was just crazy.  I needed to cum sooo bad!  He finally told me he promised to get me off if I let him put his cock in my ass.  He used lots of lubricant and massaged me with his fingers for such a long time.  He played with my pussy and nipples with his other hand and his tongue, all while he was playing with my ass. At last he said he was going to be very gentle and put it in.  I relaxed as much as I could because he said that it wouldn't hurt if I was relaxed.  He told me to take deep, slow breaths and he would ease it in. I started breathing like that and sure enough, he slipped it about half way in.”  She paused.  I could see what was coming but not really wanting to hear it.  “It started to hurt and he stopped.  He waited until I took another deep breath then just pushed it in.  All of a sudden it hurt a lot, but at the same time my clit throbbed like he had sucked it down his throat.  Then it didn't hurt at all.  It just felt great.  After that about the only way we had sex was with him in my ass.  He could get me off that way just as well as in my pussy.”  She fell silent.  I had to know.  I didn't want to know, but had to.

       “What happened to him?”  I asked. “Why didn't you marry him?”

       “He was majoring in animal husbandry in college.  He got a grant to go to some country in Africa to help the different tribes’ people learn how to better raise goats.  I never saw him after that.”  Was her answer.  I think I need an antacid.  Maybe several.  Schmuck.

Chapter 5

       I was in a quandary.  Describing prior sexual experiences can be embarrassing for some people.  Considering that Ally's history read more like “Fanny Hill” or “Candy”, some of them were embarrassing for me to hear them.  She had no reluctance in telling me her stories.  Some of her experiences were somewhat humiliating.  That just served to turn her on all the more.  Telling me about Gerald while sitting naked with toys inserted was such a turn on that she needed 4 hours of serious fucking just to get her satiated enough to sleep.  No more personal stories. We discovered that the minimum amount of sex that would keep her from going crazy changed from day to day.  Whatever that amount turned out to be kept her from needing an even bigger fix the next day.  We also discovered that the intensity of the experience served a similar purpose; that is the greater the intensity, the less time it took to satisfy her. 

       So what type of activities would be intense enough to satisfy her without taking all night?  I couldn't discuss it with her; the discussions got her excited. Just the time spent fantasizing about all the different options increased the corresponding time required to calm her down. Her sexual condition required careful regulation to keep it under control. She readily agreed to allowing me discuss her situation privately with Cynthia.

       Dr. Meyers is a psychiatrist, rather than a psychologist.  Usually shrinks only personally consult to extreme patients; the more “normal” patients consult with a psychologist while the shrink prescribes any needed medication.  Alyson is a special case.

       “Dr. Meyers, nice to see you again.  I appreciate your helping me with this...challenge.”  I said as I entered her office.

       “Hi, Mark; but please, call me Cynthia.  I prefer this to be more informal.”  She said. “You said during your call that you needed some additional assistance...how can I help?”

       “I know you have a great insight to Ally and her...situation; I need some further advice on how we can keep it under control.  When she talked to you before, did her describing her... activities to you excite her?”

       “Not at all.” She answered. “ Ally is quite a shy thing.  It took a while for me to get her to open up to me and describe what she did.”  I frowned.  “Why, what seems to be the problem?”

       “She may be shy...but it seems that doing or saying things that are embarrassing or even humiliating turn her on.” I replied.  She looked surprised, then concerned.

       “Explain it to me.”  She asked; so I told her about Ally telling me about Gerald.

       “Yes, I remember that fellow.  I thought he was ...” She searched for a word.

       “Stupid?  Dumb as a stump?”  I supplied.  She smiled.

       “That's a bit harsh; but, yes, to leave a young lady as beautiful and...exciting to go to Africa to...what, herd goats or something?” She finished.

       “Freakin' idiot.”  I mumbled.

       “Anyway, go on.”  She encouraged.

       “I wanted to know more about her past...I think.  Maybe.  Actually I'm almost afraid to find out too much about her past; I want to find out about what we can do to provide as intense an experience as we can without over stimulating her addiction.”  I said.

       “Wait, I think you've added something to the mix here.  You want to give her a more intense experience?  I'm not following you.”  She looked puzzled, now.  I explained that if she had a shorter, more intense session that it could allay the continuing desires for a while.

       “Hmm.  Okay, let's look at this one at a time.” She began. “Humiliation is a turn-on and now she enjoys saying or doing things that could cause this.  Correct?”  I nodded.  “She certainly wasn't like that before; I suspect that this is a more recent manifestation.  When did you first notice this.”  I thought for a moment.

       “A few months ago...we had been married for about 6 months.”  I said.

       “Tell me how she acted if she was embarrassed before then.”  She said.

       “If she said something, or did something, or even if she saw an embarrassing scene on a tv sitcom, she would blush and hide her head in my shoulder.” I told her.

       “Most sitcoms seemed designed to embarrass to viewer, why that's popular even I can't comprehend.”  She said. “Tell me how you reacted to her reaction.”  That took another pause for reflection.

       “Usually I would just hold her, stroke her hair or back.  Maybe pat her fanny.” I answered.

       “Hmmm.  Does holding her and touching her have any effect on you?”  I blushed at that.

       “Weeel...Ally is a beautiful, sensual woman.  I love her intensely.  I can't begin to describe how much.”  I paused again. “Just holding her close to me and smelling her hair and feeling her body...the way she breathes...her little sighs...she”. At this point the Doc stopped me.

       “Mark, do you have an erection?”   I looked down.  Now I was the one to be embarrassed.

       “Ahhh....Yeah.  I guess I do.”  I said, grimacing.  “It's Ally.  Just thinking about her; or remembering things about her...she's just...just...” I couldn't finish my thoughts.

       “Do you get an erection when you hold her when she's embarrassed?”  I nodded.

       “Is she aware of this?”

       “Probably.  Occasionally she's noticed it and touched me.” 

       “And what happens next?”  She asked.  I was still blushing.

       “We have sex.”

       “Passionate, furious sex?”  I nodded.

       “So she gets embarrassed, holds you, you get a boner and she gets nailed.  Right?”

       “I...I guess.”  I could see where she was going; I didn't like the direction.         “So my response to her is responsible for her getting turned on to being embarrassed?”

       “Quite possibly.  It probably wouldn't have such an effect on most people, in fact I know it wouldn't.  But Alyson isn't most people.”

       “That's the fucking truth.”  I muttered almost inaudibly.

       “She doesn't require very much stimulation for certain things to register; nor does it take much positive reinforcement for her to associate one emotion with another.  Unfortunately, most reinforcing inputs are directed towards her sexuality.  She's quite a gal.”

       “Yeah.  That's one way of putting it.  But to get back to why I'm here; I'd like to find out how we can make some progress.  I believe that looking at past behavior can give clues to future behavior.  Once someone starts doing something they're more likely to keep doing it unless something makes them change.”  I stated.  “Can you tell me anything about her past?”

       Cynthia looked at me, frowned then looked away.  She seemed somewhat torn in her thoughts.

       “Okay.  Since she signed the Hippa release, I'm going to give you some background. Keep in mind that this information can have broader consequences than just you and her.  Understand?”  She said.  I didn't, but I nodded anyway. She stopped to gather her thoughts.

       “Alyson is like her mother, just more so.”  She began.  The puzzle pieces began to come together.

       “Her mother has a very...healthy...sexual appetite as well.  Not as great as Alyson's, but pretty large, nevertheless.  Her father married her at a fairly early age. He was in love with her, knew that she had been quite active, sexually.  She wasn't known as the school slut or whore, but a lot of the boys knew that if you got her excited you could score with her.  And it didn't take long for the word to get around about how to get her excited.  Her soon to be husband was enthralled with her.  He was, and apparently still is, very protective of her.  Also, he was quite jealous.  He didn't want her fooling around with anyone else.  He's not a very large man; some of the confrontations with other boys ended up with him getting his butt kicked. She fell in love with him; deeply, so I understand, and didn't want to hurt him or him to get hurt. At all, in any way.” 

       “They got married, settled down and intended to live happily ever after.  That was not to be. She got frustrated, he got worn out. She needed more and more sex, he couldn't keep up.”  This seemed like deja vu all over again. “She's not the bitchy sort, but her situation started her into the world of depression. The change in her attitude and mood was very apparent.  He had to confront his own feelings: feelings of inadequacy, feelings of guilt, feelings of rage at her inability to be satisfied with him.  All of these feeling are quite powerful.”  Yeah, tell me about. “They came up with a solution, of sorts.  A rather bizarre solution, I think.”  She paused, deciding how to describe the solution and how much detail to reveal.

       “Doc...I really need to know.”  I said in encouragement.  She sighed.

       “You've met them - her parents; I presume?”  She asked, I nodded.

       “Just a few times.” I responded. “He's kinda mousey, a little guy.  Seems nervous, jumpy.  Always looking around, can't keep still.  I've wondered about ADD.  I haven't noticed any OCD.  She's attractive, very personable.  Not as beautiful as Ally, but I can see where Ally gets her looks.  Her mom always seems to watch me, she likes to stand close to me; she acts almost hungry.  It drives her father crazy.  He acts like he's always fighting to restrain himself.  He doesn't seem to be a happy camper.”

       “I think I can tell you why.  The solution that they came up with is not a good one, but one that seems to work.  You know the town they live in?”  I nodded. It’s a little burg outside of Warner Robins, GA.  “The town is not exactly an area conducive to a swinging lifestyle,” I nodded again, “Though at first that's what they tried to do. Then with a little research he was able to find a discrete little brothel not far from Robins AFB.”

       “A whorehouse near a military base? Who would think of that?”  I was being facetious, but also curious. She laughed.

       “Original, isn't it? Anyway the madam is, or was very gentle, though very much in charge.  She agreed to let Ally's mother work part time.”  I was incredulous.

       “Her mother is a whore?”  I could hardly believe her words.

       “Well, in a way, yes you could say that.  It's only as therapy.  And the operative word now is 'was'.  She doesn't work there any more.  Eventually these hormonal induced urges subside with age.  Menopause has a big impact and she isn't far from it.  It doesn't eliminate them completely, but it seems to help a lot.  She still needs, or I should say 'he' still needs some help.  He's not getting any younger either.” 

       “If her mother is only half as active as Ally I'm surprised he's still alive.  She's probably aged him by 20 years.” I responded. She nodded this time, then continued.

       “All the young airmen from the base kept her satisfied for many years, but her husband was still quite distraught over it.  He found it hard to accept his wife working in a whorehouse. After all, there was always the added possibility that the place could be raided and her mother arrested for prostitution.  Sheriffs have to get re-elected and cracking down on illegal sinful activities is sometimes a popular way of either getting into or staying in office.”  She could see I agreed with her. “I understand that these days he has a select group of male friends that get together every weekend or so and play a few rounds of 'poke her'.”

       “Poker?”  I asked.  “What, they play poker and the winner gets to screw her?  Strip poker or something?”  Obviously I didn't understand.

       “No. 'Poke her'. They draw straws for turns and each guy will quietly go into a spare bedroom with her and try to fuck her lights out.  Excuse me for the language, but that's how it was described to me.  The other guys lend...well not moral, I guess immoral support. They play cards, watch a ball game.  This way no one can use the knowledge of what's going on against anyone else.  It's semi-public knowledge.  Plus if anyone else finds out and threaten to spill the beans they each can support each other. ”  I thought about this. To suggest I was stunned was an understatement. 

       “What about the wives?  I mean the wives have to know.  They can't be stupid.  How does this happen?”  I asked. My brain felt like it was about to explode.

       “Apparently they all either understand or just look the other way. A few forbad it, but he found replacements. There isn't any threat of their husbands running away with her.”  She laughed.  “The other guys wouldn't let that happen.  From what I understand she's rather accomplished.”

       “Practice makes perfect?” I asked. She nodded, giggling.

       “And she's had a LOT of practice.”  She finished, now laughing.  She quieted herself. “I shouldn't laugh; it's not professional of me.  But I can't help it.  Sorry.”  And she began laughing again.  I chuckled along with her.  It was funny, if you think about it.  I thought about it a bit longer.  Then it scared me half to death.  Deja vu all over again?

       

       

               

       

       

       

Chapter 6

       My mind swirled; there was a loud buzzing in my ears.  No wonder her old man acted hinky around me.  I'm half again his size in stature, by now his dick has been worn down to a nub. His wife hovers around me like a hummingbird around a blossom.  Had Ally told her this?  Does she know all this?

       “Cynthia.  Did Ally tell you all this?  Does she know?”  I asked.  She blushed and looked away.

       “No.  I have to confess something and you have to understand the gravity of what I have done.  Her parents came to see me at my request.  They told me these things.  She doesn't know.  But since they didn't sign a release I shouldn't have told you.  If you mention any of this I can lose my license; maybe much worse. But I thought it would give you some valuable insight.  Both to her background as well as options for the two of you.”  She looked at me, her upper lip quivering.  She looked away.  “Please.  You can't tell anyone.  Please?”

       “Of course.  I understand.  I deal with client confidentiality everyday.  This is a very private matter.”  I thought for a moment.  “But I'm not comfortable with the idea of whoring Ally out; or for that matter finding a bunch of guys that I can babysit while they fuck my wife.  Excuse me.  It's sort of...stressful thinking about the options.”

       “I understand.  And it's not the first time I've heard the language.  You should talk to someone with Tourette's syndrome.”  She smiled, relieved. “Some of them could teach a sailor a new vocabulary.”  She paused. “But you mentioned something different.  You said that intensity is also important.  What do you mean by that?”

       “It's a bit hard to describe...but I think that she is becoming a masochist.”  Cynthia's eyes narrowed and she looked intently at me.

       “Explain. Please.”  She said tersely.

       “We set up a little...well, I guess you could call it a play room or 'fungeon' if you will; a room we can carry through with the Master/submissive thing you suggested.  I tie her up, maybe stretch her some; we've bought some crops and a cane or two.  I found a couple of smaller whips.  She likes gags; they make her drool and she can't speak very well through them.  Cock gags are her favorite.”  As I was describing this I realized that some of the very things that we had been doing weren't necessarily helping the situation.

       “Cock gags?”  She asked.

       “Yeah.  I just realized that having her tied up with a rubber cock in her mouth while she moans and drools might not be helping us find a solution.”  The Doc shook her head in the negative fashion.

       “It adds to the humiliation factor.  Go on.”

       “She doesn't seem to have a very high pain tolerance; at least not at first.  Either her pain tolerance elevates as she gets excited or her endorphins kick in pretty early. I have to be careful.  I don't want to damage her...hell for that matter I don't really want to hurt her, but to her it doesn't hurt.  I can't leave any marks that might show.  I'll be arrested for spousal abuse.  Of course you can write me a prescription and call it therapy.” I grinned at her.

       “Yes.  But then you would have to find a registered sex therapist to administer the therapy.  I don't think you're licensed for that.”  She said.  I frowned. “But she won't press charges since she wants you to do it.  I agree, though that you need to be careful about leaving marks.  Especially during swimsuit season.”

       “Considering what she wears for a bathing suit, I won't be able to do anything.  Some of the ways we've had sex leaves curious marks.  Maybe I can get her a burqua.”  Cynthia laughed at that.

       “Good luck with that one.  She likes to show off.  And she has a lot to show off.”

       “Don't I know it. When we go to the beach the glare from binocular lenses is as bad as the glare from the ocean.” I said, not quite smiling.  “What do I do, Doc?”

       “Right now, I think the best thing you can do is to examine all your different activities with the recognition of how they affect her.  Does what you're about to do ultimately lead to turning her on even more; or help to satisfy her so you can finish?  This is not going to be easy.  You've married the ultimate sexdoll. Controlling her will be a challenge.”   Tell me about it.

Chapter 7

       We discussed various ideas, the major one being to analyze each of our activities before we start; asking  “will this ultimately increase or decrease the desire?”  The first thing to go is her morning begging for my cock.  Shit.  Probably the single best consequence of her addiction; gone. 

       She surmised that Ally's 18 month period of celibacy followed by our honeymoon – which consisted of sex all day plus most of the night with breaks for meals and bathroom and little else – was what likely lit the bonfire of her addiction.  Since the activities hardly slowed down once we returned, we've just been tossing gasoline onto an already raging inferno.  The plan was then to satisfy her longings as quickly as possible and to distract her from all things libidinous for as long as possible.  Simple plan.  One question – how?

       Since everything we had done seemed to increase her desire, what do we do to reduce it?  Ally and I couldn't really discuss it together, just talking about it turns her on. For me the whole concept was beyond bizarre.  I love Ally completely; she's everything I could ever hope for in a wife; gorgeous, intelligent, fun, everything...except...she needs sex too much.  This is obviously proof that God has a sense of humor.  And the joke's on me.

       I had to think of things that would be very intense, safe, stimulating enough for her to get off,  while still affording me a respite from my sexual urges as well.  I obtained a few accessories and began the first procedure.

       “Hello, love.”  Ally said as she came into the kitchen.  “How was your day?”

       “Interesting.”   I answered.  “And yours?”  She sighed.

       “Loong.  Tiring.  I could hardly wait to get home to you, lover.”

       “Well, find yourself a beverage and relax for a few seconds, then I've got a surprise for you.”  Her eyes lit up.

       “A surprise?  What is it?” She almost bounced.

       “A surprise is something you don't know...and I'm not telling you until you get it.  Now get settled in.”  She stuck her tongue out at me.

       “That' ll work, too.”  I told her.

       She fixed a drink and changed into shorts and a tee shirt and came into the den, where she found me with some odd paraphernalia.

       “Sit in the chair and put your drink where you can find it without looking.”  I told her.  She looked at me quizzically, but complied.  Once she was settled I placed a blindfold over her eyes. 

       “Can you see anything?”  I asked.  She moved her head around, searching for daylight.

       “Nope.”  She said, shaking her head.

       “Good.”  I finished getting my stuff together.  While rambling around a local thrift shop I found a few items that provided inspiration.  First was a bedside commode; used for people who are unable to use a conventional toilet.  The other was an iv stand; a telescoping pole on wheels with 2 pigtail hangers on a crossbar at the top.  A quick trip to a local durable medical products shop allowed me to finish my shopping. I picked up a 2 quart enema bag and inflatable double bulb retention enema nozzle.  Once Ally was seated and sightless I brought out the rest of my purchases and placed them on a piece of plastic sheeting in the middle of the den floor.  Our house has privacy, plus the back yard behind the den slopes down, so the effect is that the den is higher above grade than the rest of the house.  Three walls of windows gives the effect that we were on display to the world.  In reality, unless someone came along with a ladder they would have difficulty seeing everything, but the illusion was of total exposure.

       I mixed up an enema with a little soap, glycerin and a quart of hot water.  The telescoping iv stand provided the third part of the enema giver's creed:  High, hot, and a hell of a lot!  The double bulb would insure that any discomfort that the enema provided would be enjoyed until I deemed the fun to be over.  I had already made a little harness to make the reverse prayer position quicker to achieve.  A remote controlled insertable egg vibrator plus a strap-on butterfly vibrator made sure that she had plenty of front end stimulation.  I had modified the commode to hold a 5 gallon bucket rather than the little bowl that it came with.  She would have to clean up the mess...but not only would the bucket better contain the volume; but since I found a metal one, the echoes of the discharge would intensify the experience.

       “Ready?”  I asked.

       “I don't know.  For what?”  She answered.

       “Your next orgasm.”  I replied. 

       “I guess so.  I think.” She shivered as I helped her off the chair and stripped her;  then  pressed her down into a kneeling position.  I strapped her hands behind her back and turned her to face the chair, leaving just enough room for me to slip by and sit down.  I inserted the nozzle and inflated first the inner then the outer bladders.  Since anal play was one of her favorites, the insertion was no problem, though she squirmed a bit as the bladders expanded.  I quickly disrobed and placed 2 cold beers in insulated coozies on the table next to the chair.  The tv remote was there as well as the remotes for the vibrators; I had an perfect view of the screen.  The egg went in without any resistance; by now the question was: would she keep it in?  Or would she squirt across the room with an unexpected contraction?  The butterfly was strapped on next; the rest was easy.  I held the hose release in my hand as I slipped past her kneeling form and sat down.  I pulled her towards me, she scooted a few inches to get closer and figured out what was next.  Her mouth opened, my cock went in and the tube was released.  She squealed as the first burst of water started to fill her bowels.  The tube was large, so she got quite a blast.  The intent was to fill her as fast as possible to ramp up the sensations to the discomfortable point quickly.

       “Suck it.  I want a serious throat fucking.”  I growled.  Then I relaxed and let a huge grin stretch across my face.  I pushed the buttons on the remote and a rather vocal soundtrack from one of our porn flicks filled the room.  She was very familiar with it and could follow the action in her mind as she listened to the dialog...such as it was.  She did as I instructed; and as I have related before, she's GOOD!

       Her beautiful long blonde hair fell across my lap, red highlights gleaming. I pushed a bit of it aside so I could see her lips as they pulled and pushed along the length of my cock.  Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, her jaw line and throat moved as her tongue did its dance across my flesh.  The blindfold hid her eyes, but the corners of her mouth turned up in a smile; I could almost see the sparkle in those glorious green orbs behind the blindfold.  I varied the speed of the vibrators, making the butterfly bounce against her clit, the buzzing sounds rising and falling with each touch of a button.  Between the heat of the enema and the effort she was putting in, the hair at her temples began to darken, moisture standing on her forehead as well as the bridge of her nose.  She started to gasp as her belly filled.  The space for her breaths diminished with the pressure against her diaphragm.  She squirmed and moaned a few times; but never did her mouth stop pleasuring my cock.  She slid her mouth all the way down to the base and began swallowing the head.  That took some effort on my part to resist blowing down her throat; but she still had a bit of liquid to go.  I want her to take the whole thing and then let it stew a few minutes.

       Alyson felt Mark lubing her asshole, then something odd was pushed inside, apparently attached to something else.  The first squeeze of the inflation bulb startled her, then the fullness began stretching her inside.  She had experienced butt plugs and had had an inflatable one used on her as well; she knew to relax and let it grow; resistance was futile.  The expansion of the outer bladder surprised her.  She had never been exposed to enema play; though she was familiar with it from many website visits and stories she had read.  Then she felt her husband sit down in front of her and something long and thin draped across her back.  Her hunch was confirmed.  Here it comes.  Mark directed her head towards his crotch; even blindfolded she knew what to do.  She opened her mouth and the delicious head of his cock slid in.  She swirled her tongue to catch the first drop of moisture and slowly pushed her head down to feel it in her throat.  That was the order; she would follow it to the letter! 

       The first rush of the enema shocked her.  It was HOT!  And so much.  Enemas are usually delivered with the recipient laying on his or her side to facilitate the liquid in its course into the bowel.  With Ally being in a kneeling position, the water had to force itself against both gravity and the bowel.  Having the bag suspended high above increases the pressure to insure incursion, but the upright position slowed things down.  The water had to fight both the contents of the bowel as well as the bowel itself.  The twists and turns of the bowel, lying upon itself, meant that the water had to float the contents as it swelled the walls containing it; seeping upward forcing any gas present to retreat towards the stomach.  The duodenum sphincter resists the backward flow, thus trapping the contents and adding to the discomfort.  Which was exactly the intent.

       Alyson sucked on the cock, pushing and pulling her head, orally fucking her husband.  She squirmed back a few inches and let more of her weight rest against the shaft sticking down her throat.  She had conquered her gag reflex years before and knew how to relax and breathe through her nose.  A larger cock, like the one currently invading her mouth, however, could apply enough pressure and length to prevent any airflow at all.

       While Cynthia had rightfully castigated her for allowing her erstwhile boyfriend, i.e. fuck buddy, to almost strangle her; the feelings of helplessness; the pressure on her throat and face, the feelings of her eyes trying to escape from her skull and the ringing of her ears had truly been spectacular!

       Ally pushed her lips down to the end and held her neck straight, placing more of her weight on her throat.  The 9 inch cock was long enough to cut off her air supply, balancing on the cock sticking down her throat made it feel like she was strangling on cock.  She sucked and swallowed the shaft, stars twinkling across her closed eyelids.  She backed off enough to let a little air in through her nose then went back to sucking a suffocating.  Glorious!  She was raping her own throat and loved it!

       The pressure from down below soon made itself known.  The heat from the enema and the pressure from strangling caused perspiration to seep out; a few drops making its way down the side of her face.  She shifted from side to side as her belly filled, the pressure against her diaphragm making it even harder to get a breath. She went back to simply fucking her own face, her tongue licking the end, then pressing it up against the roof of her mouth; ever mindful to keep her teeth covered with her lips.  Her belly was starting to swell and made leaning against the chair unpleasant; which was fine.  The experience wasn't supposed to be entirely pleasurable.  The cramps began, starting high then working downward.  They pressed against the bladders, but to no avail.  The cramps were different from the cramping of an orgasm. They didn't feel good; in fact the pains didn't translate into pleasure like say, the pain from a whip.  They hurt.  The pain intensified the experience and made her concentrate on the vibrations coming from her pussy.  First the egg sped up, then down.  Then the butterfly tickled her clit almost enough to get her off, then it too, slowed down.  She never stopped her feast, occasionally feeling a shudder from the thighs on either side of her shoulders. 

       At last she felt the thighs tighten and knew what was next.  She backed her mouth away slightly and sucked hard and felt the spasm began.  The spurts bounced off of the back of her mouth onto her tongue.  She rolled it around, bathing the cock with the thick juice as she sucked, feeling as another and yet another spurt joins the first.  Finally the tension ceased, as did the spurts.  She lathed the cock with her tongue as it swept the prize down into her throat.  Hands slowly pushed her head away as she licked every drop from inside of her mouth. 

       Within 30 minutes the bag was empty and so was I. She, on the other hand, was quite full. I stood and helped her to her feet, vibrators still buzzing along.  She was buzzing too, the cramps from the enema really causing her to grimace; not giving her much of a chance to turn them into a pleasurable sensation.  Perfect.  I led her to the commode and stopped her just in front of it. Her glorious hair fanned out over her back, draping on her arms. The same hands that had helped her to her feet positioned her...somewhere.  She heard me say:

       “I'm going to remove the nozzle.  DO NOT LET IT OUT!  UNDERSTAND?”  

       She just nodded and groaned.  She heard the order to hold it and felt the nozzle deflate and had to squeeze hard to prevent the contents from escaping as the nozzle was pulled out.  She felt herself being pushed down, down to sit upon something, something open; the realization came that she was on a toilet seat.  But she hadn't walked far enough to be in a bathroom.

       Then she felt my lips close to her ear as I started to ease the blindfold off and said:

       “I want you to imagine that the whole neighbor hood is watching.  They are anxiously waiting for you to release.  They all have cameras; the men all have erections.”

       She opened her eyes and found herself sitting in front of a bank of windows, naked, on a commode with her belly swollen from a large, very uncomfortable enema.  She looked around with wide eyes then closed them tightly.  I turned both vibrators to high, and leaned over to speak gently into her ear and continued:

       “There are two guys in front, one with a HD video camera, and one with a professional DSLR.  There is a wireless microphone mounted on the back of the commode feeding the audio back to the video camera.  There is also an open space between the seat and the bucket under it.  That way they can get an excellent view of the flow when you let it go.  Everyone is taking pictures; I can see the flashes going off.”  The stars behind her eyelids became the flashes of the cameras on the other side of the windows. “When I tell you to cum I want you to release and cum as well.  That way they get a good shot of your orgasm as you dump the contents of your ass.  I'm paying them to get these photos and videos.  They will be the opening scene from the new web site I'm contracting.  It's called Alyson the Enema Queen.  NOW CUM!”

       With that her eyes flew open; the force from holding then closed so hard bringing more flashes.  She could almost see the crowd cheering.   She blushed, then paled from a cramp, but couldn't hold it back.  The thunder from the liquid hitting the bottom of the empty bucket was enough.  As the next abdominal cramp hit she began to shudder.  Her eyes rolled back and the cramp seemed to take her whole body.  She jerked and her head snapped from side to side.  The event seemed to continue for hours, though it was only a few minutes. Finally she was finished; both with the enema and the orgasm.  She sat her head lolling, eyes barely open.  I stepped behind her and held her to me, supporting her so that she wouldn't accidentally fall out of the chair; and pressed the buttons to turn the vibrators off.

       “How was that?” I asked gently.

       She looked around and realized that we were alone; the yard empty.  The cameras were just a figment of her overactive and overworked imagination.

       “You are a mean, mean person.”  She smiled up at me.  “And I do love you for it!”

       That was the quickest orgasm I had ever seen her have, and an especially intense one at that.  She got the privilege of cleaning up the commode and enema kit while I put the rest of the stuff away.  We spent a rather quiet evening together watching a regular movie without the pressures of libido interfering.  A rather successful experiment, I thought.  The only drawback was that enemas tend to over clean the bowel, so thus can't be used all that frequently without subsequent digestive issues.  But the concept seemed to work.  What's next?

       Ally agreed with the concept that Cynthia and I discussed; to get her off as quickly as possible.  As much as she enjoyed the prolonged sexual bouts we had been having; the distractions of ever increasing desire plus the ever increasing time required made her realize that it couldn't continue indefinitely. Over next two days in the morning and evening we endeavored to simply build her up and get her off as quickly as possible.  That was okay, but she had her misgivings.

       “I did alright,” She said one evening, speaking about her daily desires several days after the enema experience. “But I'm really getting horny now.  I think I need something big every few days to really tone it down.  Maybe some time in the playroom tonight?”

       “Sure.  Don't think too much about 'til then, but I'll be thinking of the best ways to really cool you off a bit later.”  I said.  She smiled and I gave her a hug, a squeeze and a kiss...but not a deep one.  That would have to wait.  I cranked up that portion of my brain reserved for sadistic impulses and let it percolate.

       

Chapter 8

       Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately for Ally, the sadistic side of my brain has a direct connection to my fertile imagination.  Again, perhaps unfortunately for her, the internet provides a wonderful resource of interesting: read – kinky – toys and accessories for the adventurous couple. 

       The difficulty lay in finding techniques that would be intensely invigorating without leaving either visible marks or some that would linger unseen but still be a constant arousing    reminder of how they were acquired.  The enema met those criteria; what else might fit?

       One of the many new items I acquired was a multi channel TENS unit.  Ahhh, the wonders of electricity!  I didn't know whether electricity was a turn-on or turn-off for her; we would find out together.  The joys of joint discovery!

       After a light dinner (what I had in mind might result in our seeing her portion again, so might as well reduce the volume) we retired to the playroom for her introduction to the TENS unit. 

       I had built a suspension beam with a hoist for a variety of activities.  This time I put her ankles in suspension cuffs on a spreader bar and attached her wrist cuffs to a waist belt.  Then the hoist pulled it up so I could transfer the bar to the beam for a more rigid connection.  Did I mention that she has a beautiful pussy?  The position gives a bird's eye view. It's also convenient for doing impromptu amateur vaginal inspections which was coming up.  Her position was fine for cock sucking as well.  A short stool with a back provides an excellent, comfortable location for her to reach my joint.  This meant that most of our activities this evening would result in my having only her mouth available rather than her pussy.  We husbands sometimes must make sacrifices for our spouses; I'd have to manage.

       “A blindfold again?”  She asked.        A blindfold is another handy ingredient to enhance sensory input; she just loves surprises.

       “Yep. I think it sharpens your perceptions.  Besides you said you love surprises.”  I said.

       “Some surprises.  I don't know if I like some of yours, though.”  She replied.

       “You seemed to enjoy the last one.” I countered.

       “Not at first.  Though it was exciting at the end.”  She said.

       “That's the idea.  A build up to a big finale.” I grinned, though by now she couldn't see it.

       I rummaged through my newest box 'o goodies and came up with a TENS unit and several different lead choices. This unit is a bit different from the typical medical device.  The standard TENS is designed to provide electrical stimulation in order to interfere with chronic pain locations, or to relax tense muscles, usually by fatiguing them through constant contraction. Most TENS units can deliver voltage and current within limited ranges, also at various frequencies to provide better therapeutic effect.  What I had acquired is more along the line of an interrogation machine.  I could control the outputs for a much greater range than the standard medical device, plus I had more channels to play with.  It could also be either programmed or remotely controlled from a PC; though right now I had no need for that capability.  Maybe later.  I had been advised (warned!) by the guy I bought it from that it could be dangerous in the wrong hands.  Like mine.

Now it was time to install the electrodes.

The first would require the prior mentioned examination, so a jar of lube was the first thing that came to hand.  Using my fingers gently, I pulled her labia apart to reveal that juicy interior.  I poured some lube around and into the opening and began to stir.  Two fingers in the pot, two fingers on the clit.  The way she juices up that was all the lube I needed to start things off.  I pulled her labia, twisting a bit; stretching her opening, being less and less gentle as I progressed.  Next come a rather heavy dildo with a series of points on a flat end.  The points were triangular and not especially sharp.  They weren't meant to puncture or penetrate.  There was a ring of sharp points in the middle of the end face.  They were longer and metallic, connected to the jack on the base.   The weight provided both solid electrical contact as well as an irritating pressure on the cervix.  The points would feel sharp enough shortly.  The base had a threaded hole to which I had added a three foot long pole.  This would give me a handle as well as an alignment guide.  The pole fitted through a ring bracket clamped to the spreader bar.  It allowed the dildo to move up and down without tipping or falling out. A ring on the end closest to the dildo provided an attachment point for a cord.

Now alligator clips, with an electrical jack molded into them.  These were special, just right for hardcore pain sluts.  The jaws had hard plastic pads that had been machined into a surface of  sharp points somewhat like the dildo.  Each pad had a 3/8” long needle protruding from it, slightly off center.  A hole in each pad allowed the opposing needle to pass through and the pads to clamp together; whatever was clamped between the teeth could be completely penetrated but still not short an electrical connection.  Some flesh at least would provide the conductive path.  A knurled screw allowed adjustment of how close the pads would squeeze together.  The spring in each clamp was very strong; with the screw adjusted out the clamps could deliver crushing force.  Each needle was connected through a small jack to each pole of the TENS lead.  This way the shock point would be at the clamp only, not between clamps.  It only takes a small amount of current to pass through the heart to cause it to go into fibrillation. That’s not what you want the EMT’s to find!

One for each labia and one for her clit.  The one for her clit had the needles removed; at least for now.  A small metal pad on each side stuck out far enough for contact.  The teeth however were relatively sharp and still adjustable for pressure.  I started off with moderate pressure; tightening them until she said “ouch!” then adding another turn for good measure.  That elicited a moan, the desired result.

       I left the leads off for now.  Her nipples got the clamps with the needles and adjusted for hard pressure. The clamps opened wide enough so that I could put the clamp on the outside margin of each areola; the most sensitive point. Her sharp intake of air and a gasp told me that they were having the desired effect.  I flicked each one with my finger; they weren’t coming off without tearing her nipples.  I decided to experiment with weights later.

I wanted to warm her up before I lit her up.  I chose a crop to start the warm up, flicking her chest and abdomen; not wanting to do more than sting at first.  Shortly I moved around to her back and butt.  It didn't take long until she looked like she had spent a few too minutes in the sun sans sunscreen. Her hair swirled around, just brushing the floor.  When she jerked it looked like flames dancing around her head.  I wasn’t using enough force to do much more than sting but enough of that tends to build sensitivity.  Her moans and sharp cries were turning me on as well.  The clamps pulled at her nipples, a light sheen of perspiration covered her body.

I switched to a thin fiberglass rod.  It's very whippy, and though it doesn't do much damage, it stings like hell.  I took my time, working on the underside of her magnificent tits; starting at the base and working up to the nipples.  The clamps make perfect handles to stretch each breast away from its partner for clear access to the inside. I worked on generating a nice grid with each intersecting line forming a slightly larger swollen dot.

Her moans and gasps became louder; it was time to kick things up a notch.

I pulled a pair of dental blocks out of the bag and the head harness that holds her jaw closed against the blocks.  This arrangement works better than a ring gag; I was able to fine tune the blocks so that I got maximum contact with the inside of her mouth and her tongue while insuring that her teeth stayed far enough apart that my cock wasn’t threatened.  The harness also has a ring on the top so that I could secure her head as well; adding to her feeling of helplessness.  The straps on either side of her mouth have velcro patches on them.  A dildo gag just long enough to reach her uvula is matched to the harness.  Her gag control is superb, but the gag just touching that little bit of flesh is enough to distract her.

Her labia were starting to swell so I pulled at each lip and stretched them with the clamps.  Then I lifted the dildo just a little and dropped it back down.  Her pussy was so wet that there was no friction.  This got a full body twitch, her head jerking back and her pelvis bouncing forward. That seemed like fun so I did it again.  Again, the jerking motion along with a sharp cry.  This had lots of possibilities.  I lifted it again even higher and said:

       “If you don’t want it to fall back down, bear down and hold it.”  I could see the muscles in her thighs, abdomen and buttocks clinch.  All those kegel exercises could pay off now. I released the weight and watched.  Even as hard as she clinched; the dildo slowly eased down until it rested on her cervix.  Next came some pussy fun.  Again, the clamps made it convenient to stretch her labia, and then hold each one against the solid side of the heavy dildo.  The fiberglass rod left bright lines when it struck each lip using the dildo as an anvil.  Now for her clit.  Grab the clamp, pull, SMACK!  Even with the gag she was loud!  Four strokes were enough.

Last of all was her ass.  The fiberglass rod warmed it up quite nicely; I wanted to leave her a reminder here.  For the next few days, every time she touched that anal ring with a tissue she would remember tonight.  (Yeah, I know I'm trying to keep her from over stimulating herself, but this was an experiment.) Plus this would prepare her for what was about to come next.

I have an inflatable butt plug with a large neck section to keep her anus under a strain.  To add to the strain, the flange portion is covered with sharp points.  Inflating the plug applies more pressure to the flange. A ring of points closest to her anus is the conductor for the TENS unit.  The opposing poles for the last channel ran from the sharp points pricking the edge of her anus to the points of the heavy dildo bearing down on her cervix.

I strung the leads from the spreader so that she couldn’t tell what I was doing and plugged the leads into the clamps.  A cord connected to the base of the dildo in her pussy and strung over the spreader bar allowed me to raise it up or let it fall.

I used the interval to marvel at the sight before me.  Her legs occasionally quivered; her breathing heavy through her flared nostrils.  Her gorgeous copper hair was turning dark with perspiration; moisture ran down her sides and arms.  Her body gleamed with her sweat.  Her pussy was swollen, both from the stimulation as well as having a large heavy dildo holding it open.  Her cunt twitched as she tried to relieve the pressure of the weighted points pressing and stinging her cervix. I watched her large breasts rise and fall with each breath; her fingers writhed at her waist, her hands turned back and forth in their thick manacles.

Playtime!

First, the gag came out; my cock went in.  The stool was just right.  A table held the control for the TENS.  All the settings were on minimal.  Each channel had a knob for the amount of current; I had preset the voltage on all of them to be enough to sting.  Each channel could be either turned on or pulsed.  I started moving my cock in and out of her mouth, enjoying the suction.  She is abso-fucking-lutely spectacular at cock sucking.  I turned on the channel to both nipples, just enough for her to feel it.

       “HHMMMFF!”  She moaned around my cock.  The levels weren't high enough to more than tingle.  I pulled my cock out.

       “What’s the matter?”  I asked.

       “I 'ont 'ike eect icity” She replied.  The dental blocks really fuck up enunciation.

       “You don't?”  I responded.  She shook her head violently.  I stuck my cock back in.

       “Well.  That's pretty tough, isn't it.  You've got too choices.  You can just endure it the best you can until I'm through.  Or you can squirm and make obnoxious noises and jerk around and blow snot all over the place.  And I'll do it anyway.  Of course if you choose the second path then it will be all the more entertaining for me.  And you'll have even more mess to clean up when we're finished.”  I waited for her response.  “What'll it be.  One?  Or two?”

       “On.”  She said around my cock after considering it.  Rats!  I had wanted her to really throw a fit.  That's okay, though.  I had the tools to accomplish it anyway.

I turned up the level slightly on the nipple circuit and waited for the reaction; after a few seconds she just trembled a bit.  I turned it off, and repeated the action on her labia, slowly ramping up the current until her legs were jumping then turned it off.  I upped the level to her clit and gave it three short bumps. That got her twisting and gasping.  Now for the fun.  I turned the level about half way to the max and held the button activating the circuit between her cervix and anus down for about three seconds.  First she arched backward, then forward then backward again.  As her pendulum swung down from her last arch, a screech emanated from her mouth. When the screeching stopped a shake resembling a convulsion ran through her and she was still, air slowly moving in and out of both her mouth and nose.

I slipped the blindfold off, a bit worried, and looked into her eyes.  They were about half open. She wasn't back, yet.  Her pulse was strong and her breathing steady, so I gave her a few seconds.  She blinked.  She blinked again.  I was sitting on the floor so I could look into her eyes.  She focused and looked into my eyes.

       

       “Are you okay?”  I asked gently.  She shook her head.

       “' Urts.”  She answered.

       “Where?”

       “Erry'ere.”

       “Which one hurt the worst?”

       “All o 'em”. 

I thought about that; reached over and put the controller on the floor so I could reach it.  I turned all the levels back to just above minimum.

       “I'm going to try something.  I'm not going to turn it up very high.  Okay?”  I asked.  She closed her eyes and shook her head.  When I pushed the buttons for her nipples she opened her eyes, but with a slight squint.

       

       “Was that too bad?”  I asked.  She waited then shook her head.  I did the same with her labia.  Again, the squint.  When I activate the channel to her clit her eyes widened and she looked around. A line of perspiration formed over her eyebrows.  It was when I pushed the button to channel six, the one between her cervix and her battered anus that she really reacted. 

       

       “OOOhhh. Oooohh.  'AHHP.  AHHP.”  She exclaimed.  I released the button.  Either she really was very sensitive to electricity or this thing had a much greater range than I had expected.  Maybe that guy was on to something.

       “Did the last one feel stronger than the others?”  I asked.  She hadn't opened her eyes, yet.  She nodded vigorously.  “Did it hurt?”  Again, the nodding.  “A good hurt?”  She shook her head.  “Think it would hurt that much if I turned it on in the middle of an orgasm?”  Her eyes opened wide now.

       

       “'Es. Es.  'Ike 'Ell.  'I'd 'urt ike ell.  'Ont oo it.  “Eease. 'Ont.” She closed her eyes again and shivered.  Well, well, well.  Maybe I've found a way to shorten our process.  Maybe I've found a path to a pain conditioning that she doesn't enjoy.  Maybe.

       “Okay.  I'll be careful with that one.  Ready to cum?”  I asked.  She closed her eyes again, then opened them.

       “'Ow?”

       “How am I going to make you cum?”  She nodded.  I thought for a minute.

       “I'm going to stimulate your clit.  You're going to have to hold the dildo in your pussy up to keep it from banging down on your cervix.  While that's going on I'm going to fuck your mouth while you suck on my cock.  Got it?”  I told her.  She nodded.

       I got up and found a vibrator made to clamp on either a clit or a nipple.  I added it to the clamp already on her clit and turned it on.  I sat on the stool and slipped my cock into her mouth, holding on to the cord attached to the dildo.  I set the TENS unit to just a bit higher than the previous levels on all channels except for number six.  I moved that one about a quarter of the way up.  Less than the big one she had earlier, but still higher than the last one. I fucked her mouth – which she loves- and played with her tits; pulling on the nipple clamps, squeezing those magnificent orbs.  Despite the electricity, or maybe she was getting used to it, I could tell her orgasm was building.  When I pulled on the cord her thighs tensed and I could see her abdomen clench. I released the cord and the dildo stayed suspended.  That wasn't going to last long.  I didn't change any settings, I was still learning about both the machine as well as how she responded to it.  I just kept fucking her mouth and playing with her tits.  Her hands twisted, her fingers stretching and balling.  She was getting close.  Finally she began to twist as her orgasm hit. I turned channel six on and watched the dildo.  Since the points hadn't contacted her cervix yet, there wasn't any current flow.  When she shook from the second wave of her orgasm she relaxed her cunt muscles.  Instantly the dildo banged the needle points into her cervix and the contact was made.  I couldn't tell if she had another, bigger orgasm; or just a Gran Mal seizure.  While she was quivering I disconnected everything and let her down.  I caught her in my arms and guided her gently to the floor.  I released the head harness and stuck my finger in to snag the dental blocks.  I was a bit apprehensive that she might bite my finger off; oh, well.  It's just a finger. Then I released her wrists and took off the belt.  She was completely free, lying on the floor; her head in my lap as I stroked her head.  Her breathing was steady; her eyes closed.  She was very still.  After a minute or two I began to get worried.  I felt her pulse; it was strong and steady.

At long last – it seemed like half an hour but was probably only a couple of minutes her eyes opened, unfocused at first, but they steadied on me.  Her mouth twitched into a straight line. Her eyes narrowed.  She spoke very quietly.

       “I think I hate you.”  She said.  “But I could be wrong.”  And then she smiled.  I released the breath I had been holding for the past hour and bent down and kissed her forehead, then moved down to kiss her lips.  Her mouth widened and I felt her tongue tickle mine...then my mouth was invaded by what felt like a python, searching for my tonsils, or maybe my epiglottis.

       “Have I told you that you’re a real son of a bitch?”  She asked.  I nodded.

       “Once or twice.”  I replied quietly.

       “Okay, then it's official.  You're a son of bitch.”  She grabbed me and held me tight.  “But at least you’re MY son of a bitch.”  She returned to massaging my throat with her tongue. She finally let go then realized something.

       

       “You didn't cum.  Did you?”  She asked.  I shook my head.

       “Not yet.  I was too busy watching you.”  I answered.

       “Then lets' clean up and I'll take care of that.”  She said.  And we began to put the room back into order.

       

Chapter 9

I decided to find out a bit more about my in-laws.  I could just call them up and say:

“Hey! Jack and Mary!  What's this I hear about her working in a whorehouse and fucking half the Air Force?”  But that was probably not a good idea.  Ally's old man isn't a real big guy; I'm sure that between my size and youth I could take him.  I would also have to spend the rest of my life wearing body armor because he would likely cap me from behind some night and say something sweet in my ear while I'm dying.  Something like:

“Gotcha.  Asshole.”  And I wouldn't blame him.  That's something I'd probably consider, too. Maybe not the best approach.  So I did what I do.  I investigated the situation.  I needed background information, as well as to corroborate what Cynthia the shrink told me.  Not that I didn't believe her (though it was pretty unbelievable...until I married their daughter) but I needed to be able to protect the patient confidentiality that was violated.  I was pretty sure that the fact that she spilled the beans would come out eventually, but I wanted that to be later; not sooner.

I found a older photo of Ally's mother that was in a family photo album that we had stashed away.  Then during a slow time I took a day and drove south.  I stopped by the local sheriff's office and had a chat with a deputy friend who was fortunately working days that week.

“Ben.  Good to see ya'.  How's it hanging?” I asked Ben Turner, an old compatriot who was riding for the county sheriff.

“Long and on the left, as usual.  What the fuck brings you down here?  Don't you have enough lying husbands in Atlanta to follow around?”  He answered.  We chatted a bit, catching up as briefly as I could and still weasel my way around to why I was really there. Finally I got to my point.

“Ben.  I've got a question for you.  It involves activity that could be construed as illegal...and possibly condoned at the same time.”  I started.  He lifted an eyebrow and narrowed his eyes. “I know that the sheriff's department enforces all laws equally and that prostitution is hardly ignored...”  He chuckled and interrupted me.

“Don't tell me you're looking to buy a piece of ass.  You just told me you got married to a hot set of TaTas. And there's plenty of cootch for sale up in HotLanta!”  He laughed.

“No...Nothing like that. I'm doing an investigation on a woman...who may have worked as a hooker down here a number of years ago.  I heard that she had worked in a local cathouse that served guys from the base.  I was just wondered if anything like that could be true?”  I replied.

“A cathouse serving a military base?  Who'd a thought of that?”  He grinned at me.  “Unless you mean Ms Funderburk's sitting parlor.  She's had to move a time or two but she's still in business.  She operates a “companionship” place...where lonely guys can “talk” to pretty women.  For a couple hundred bucks an hour.  Plus tips.  Someplace like that?”

“Could be.  Has she been doing it a long time?”  I asked.

“Yep.  Runs a quiet place.  Of course whorehouses aren't legal.  But her having a place for guys to get laid easily keeps the problems down on the street.  We have enough problems with guys with toxic levels of testosterone as it is.  Her little establishment helps to keep at least a little of it drained away.  It's a ways out of town.” 

Ben gave me instructions on how to find it with the usual disclaimer that he didn't know anything about such an establishment and would certainly have to tell the sheriff if he did.  I suspected that he could tell the sheriff the next time they both happened to run into each other while getting their ashes hauled by one of Ms Funderburk's young ladies. But I didn't elaborate with him.

Ms Funderburk turned out to be a rather interesting lady.  The house was actually owned by a corporation several states away.  I suspected that she also owned the corporation, but she had done a very good job of hiding the association.  Being in the investigation business means having to pay for access to information services that most people don't know about and wouldn't want to pay the fees for them if they did.  But I do.  I discovered that Ms Funderburk was actually Eleanor Fitzgerald.  A slight shift in name that can help lead people into dead ends.  She apparently had done extremely well in the flesh peddling business.  Just one of the advantages of having a distant relationship with the IRS.  I decided to take another trip south.

Ms Funderburk, nee Fitzgerald, had an impressive house that had at one time been a plantation home.  The farm lands had been sold off; some was in leased cultivation, other had been re-zoned for industrial use.  It was still too far out of town to be attractive for subdivisions and with the growth of industrial parks the location provided both privacy and security.  The house had obviously been restored and I suspected a bit of custom remodeling had also been included.  I drove up the drive to the house, hidden from the road by a grove of trees.  I parked in the front and walked up to the front door.  It was 10:30 am, so I doubted that I would be interfering with normal business activities.  I rang the bell and waited.  The sidelights were covered with sheer curtains; I could detect movement inside just as the door opened half way. A rather attractive woman dressed professionally (office professionally, not hooker professionally) stood there, appraising me.

“Yes?  May I help you?”  She asked guardedly.  Apparently she wasn't used to customers arriving that early. 

“Ms. Funderburk?”  She didn't respond. “I'm Mark Stevens.  I'm a private investigator” I held up my professional identification to the screen door. “I'm trying to find out some information about a young lady who may have worked for you some years ago.  She provided...uh... personal services.  May I come in?”  She thought for a few seconds and then opened the door the rest of the way.  I stepped back to allow her to unlatch and open the screen door and followed her into the house and down a short hallway.  The decor was tasteful, understated.  No erotic prints, no flocked wallpaper, no red sconces on the walls.  A room directly off of the foyer held several upholstered chairs and two couches, all in a cream colored leather.  Nice stuff. Thick rugs over gleaming heart pine floors. We arrived at an office.  It also held several leather furniture pieces.  A large flat screen was on, a business show was showing, the sound muted.  A separate large monitor showed a rotation of closed camera views around the house.  The front view, showing my car, was locked in the upper right corner. All entrances as well as the grounds were covered.  Another screen was dark.  I had noticed several small interior security cameras as well; I suspected that the other dark screen provide the internal security views.  Ms “Funderburk” sat in the chair behind a large desk and motioned for me to sit in the chair across from her.

“Okay.  So what's all this about?”  She asked coolly.  She was lithe, a superb body and lovely face.  Her complexion was creamy and her hair shone.  She was either a lot younger than I expected or had an excellent plastic surgeon.  As in Hollywood good.

“Ms Funderburk...” I glanced up at the wall behind her.  A framed cross stitch read “The customer always comes first.”  That made me laugh and I turned away.  She turned and read it, apparently had forgotten that it was there. She smiled as well.  I started again.

“Ms. Funderburk, I have information that some years ago a young lady worked in this area providing...'personal services' shall we say.  I don't know for sure that she worked for you; but it seems likely since this is a rather limited business environment.  Not many establishments for her to choose from.”  She remained silent.  I got out the photo and put it on the desk in front of her.  She was cool, I give her that. There was virtually no reaction; but I was looking carefully.  She might have been a pretty good poker player, but one thing gave her away.  As she glanced at the photo her pupils widened slightly.  That little tale tell is why some poker players wear dark glasses.  She recognized my mother-in-law.

“A very attractive woman.  There are many attractive women around here.  Why would you suspect that I might know her?”  She asked.

“As I said, there aren't many places around here that she could do the type of work that she did with the privacy that she needed.  From what I understand you're the only person who operates that way.”  I responded.  She thought a moment.

“And what makes you think I run a business that provides privacy?”  She was not being either helpful or illuminating.

“Eleanor...or do you prefer Ms Fitzgerald?”  I began.  This did bring out a response.  She sat up a bit straighter.  She wasn't expecting this.  “That is a photo of Mary Darling.  Married to Jack Darling.  A local housewife, now.  I have good information that for a number of years she worked part time in a brothel in this area.  I simply need some background information about her.  Did she work for you?”  She shifted slightly and looked past me. Her eyes returned to mine.

“I don't know how you got that name...” She began, but I cut her off.

“Ms Fitzgerald.  I know a lot about you.  That's what I do.  I mean you no harm, I just need to find out about Mary Darling.  Let's stop the bullshit.  We both have other things to do.”  I told her. “All this occurred years ago.  The statute of limitations has run out.  I don't have any malicious plans, I just need some information.”

“Then tell me why you need to know.”  She retorted. “And then I might help you.”  I waited a moment.  This wasn't going to be easy.

“I married their daughter, Allison.  She has the same problem her mother has...only worse.”  I said.  She looked at me for a minute.  Then a smile crossed her lips.  Then she rolled her head back and laughed.  She laughed until tears ran down her cheeks and then kept laughing.  Laughter is contagious, so after a minute or two I laughed a bit with her.  At last she caught her breath and stopped. Eleanor gulped large breaths as the convulsions quieted down.

“OH SHIT!” She exclaimed.  “You poor boy! If her daughter is even half as bad as Mary, much less worse, how could you even drag your ass this far out of the house?”  She started laughing again.  Apparently she remembered Mary.  She calmed again.  But she couldn't keep from grinning. “Mary Darling is a beautiful gal.  I hated to lose her.  Made us both a bunch of money.  It really pissed off her husband, though.  How is Jack these days?”

“Okay, I guess.  I'm not real close to them and I'm starting to understand why.”  I paused to think.  “I'm more concerned with finding out a solution for Ally and me.  Is there anything you can tell me about what helped Mary get over her...condition?”

“Get over?  I don't know that she ever did.  That woman liked to fuck more than anyone I've ever seen, man or woman.  She would go all night.  I mean REALLY go at it, all night.  The airmen loved her.  Probably still do, for all I know. She was insatiable.”  She answered.

“So...she left your employ just as horny as she was when she started?”  I asked.  She nodded.

“Yep.  About the only thing that would calm her down was two-fers.  You know, two at a time.  Front to back, top to bottom. Either or both, didn't matter.”  She reflected for a second. “As I recall, she tried a three-fer a few times as well.  Being airtight seemed to really do it for her. That's the only times I can remember her being relaxed when she left for the day.” 

Great.  Just fucking great.

“Did she say why she left?”  I asked.

“Jack didn't like it.  I can't say that I blame him.” She told me. “He was a bit of a jealous type, anyway.  The only reason he permitted it as long as he did was that he couldn't keep up with her and didn't want to lose her.”  I nodded at that one.

“Yeah.  I know the problem.  Real well.”  I replied.  She looked into my eyes.

“Well...you know...y'all could move down here.  Maybe Allison could fill in like her...” She saw the expression in my face and stopped talking.

“You're the possessive type, too?”  She asked. I didn't reply. “Well. Okay. I guess I can understand it.  I've had several wives work for me over the years.  They liked the money; or just weren't getting enough at home.  Most husbands didn't like it, but they spent the money anyway.  Some didn't mind it so much after their wife bought them a new bass boat.  Priorities, I guess.”  I stood and picked up the photo.

“Thank you, Ms Funderburk.”  I said and winked. “You've been most helpful.”

“You're welcome.”  She said.  “Good luck.  Lot's of lean protein, dark green leafy veggies.  You'll need all the stamina you can get.” And she grinned at me.  Thanks.  Thanks a lot.  Everyone's a fucking comedian.

My next visit would be to reconnoiter her parents’ house.  Friday seemed like logical night to start with, so I told Ally I needed to be out doing some detective work the next Friday night.  I gave her a rather intense session in the playroom on Thursday so that her horns might be trimmed back far enough to leave her alone for the evening.  That and a Celebrator vibrator with extra batteries.

I parked down the block and around the corner from her folks' house and took a walk.  My car is fairly nondescript – on purpose- though I'd rather have a sharper ride.  But a beige three year old Buick is about as inconspicuous as you can get.  Ally gets the Beemer. (After all, doesn't BMW stand for “Belongs to My Wife?”)  I had an idea about their schedules, so I thought I might be able to avoid being seen by them.  Around 7:30 a couple of guys showed up, rang the bell and were let inside.  By 8 five men had been let in and the light over the front porch went out.  I gave it another thirty minutes and rang the bell myself.  Jack came to the door, opened it and saw me standing there.  At first he didn't recognize me, or perhaps didn't want to.  Then I said:

“Hi, Jack.  How you doing?”  He looked startled and quickly turned to look over his shoulder.  Mary was walking down the hall away from us, her naked butt cheeks swaying. One of the guys was following her.  He turned back, face reddened and stepped through the door and pulled it closed behind him.  He didn't look happy.  “Having a party?”  I asked.

“What are you doing here?”  He asked sharply. “What do you want?”  He looked like he was building a head of steam and getting ready to explode.

“Relax.  We need to talk.  Let's sit down.” I motioned to the top step and sat down.  He watched, standing, his hands clenching into fists and relaxing.  Finally he relaxed. He let out a huff of air and sat next to me.

“What do you want?”  He repeated; quieter, but still tense.

“I need to talk about you and Mary.  And about me and Ally.”  I said.  He looked askance at me.

“About what?” He said.  I took a big breath.

“I know something about Mary's...condition.”  I said and he tensed again. He started to say something again but I cut him off.  “Ally's got it too.  And we need some help.  About what to do. I understand how y'all are taking care of it” I jerked my head back at the house. “But we're not ready for that yet.  At least I'm not.”  He looked at me steadily, not saying a word.  After a while he looked out at the street and nodded. 

“It's a bitch.  You think you're getting your ultimate fantasy.  Instead you get a curse.”  He sounded a bit bitter.  Ya’ think?  “She's beautiful.  She's smart, she's sexy as hell; she’s just so much fun to be around.  But she can't stop fucking.”

“Are you talking about Mary or Ally?”  I asked.  He looked back at me.

“Mary.  How is Ally doing?”  He asked.

“She's doing great.  But she's killing me.”  I answered.  He nodded slightly.

“Yeah.  Tell me about it. I feel like a pimp for my own wife just because I can't screw her 24/7.  Sucks.”  He paused.  “So how are y'all handling it?” 

“Not too good. That's why I'm here.  Right now we've found that if she can get a really seriously strong orgasm that it calms her down for a day or two.  I'm curious about what Mary did, or what the two of you did when Mary was Ally's age.  I talked to Ms Funderburk.”  With that he jumped and stared at me.

“You WHAT?”  He said, but settled down. He looked away.  “How is Eleanor, anyway?”

“She looks great.  How old is she?  She has to be older than she looks.”  I asked.

“At least 70.  Maybe 75.  I bet she doesn't look over 55, does she?”  He asked. I shook my head.

“Maybe 60, but even that's stretching it a lot.  70?  Impossible.”  I said.

“Sex keeps you young.  Or, it does for women.  It damned near killed me.” He said. “I don't know if she participates in the business side of it, but I suspect that she isn't celibate.

After a minute I asked:

“Has Mary slowed down any, compared to when she was younger?”

“Oh yes.  We're only doing it once a day on the “off days”.”  He said. “Then on 'poke her' nights she gets it five or six times.  Sometimes more, if one or more of the guys is especially horny.  She usually wrings them out pretty good the first time, though.  When I opened the door I thought you might be a late comer.  Excuse the pun. Hey, while you're here...”  I looked at him.

“Thanks.  I gave at home. NO, I'm NOT going to boink my mother-in-law.”  I replied, a bit testily.  He grinned at me.

“She's been wanting to try you out.  She mentions it every now and then. I told her that you probably had your hands full.” He snickered. “Don't have any trouble sleeping though, do you?”

“Actually, sometimes I do. I wake up wondering just what the fuck I can do.  Which gets back to my reason for being here.  Any suggestions?”  I asked him.  He just shook his head.

“Will you tell me about when she worked at Ms Funderburk's?”  I asked.

“No.  But if you come back next Tuesday, around lunch, she'll tell you.  That's the next 'poke her' day. She'll tell you more than you can stand to hear.  After work I'll go find a beer and a TV somewhere and stay out of sight until the guys start showing up.  Because by then she'll be hornier than a two headed billy goat.  You better be wearing a chastity belt and leave the key at home.  I bet she could suck a tennis ball through a tennis racket by the time y’all are through.”  He just shook his head again. 

So that's what I did. (No, without the chastity belt.)

The following Tuesday I showed up at lunch time.  I had spoken with Jack again briefly; she was expecting me and had a nice lunch ready.  She met me at the door; apparently had dressed for the occasion.

“Mark!  Come in, come in.  It's so nice to see you again.  How's Allison?”  She exclaimed as she ushered me through the door and into the kitchen.

“Fine.  She's doing great.  The job keeps her busy...but that's a good thing.  She enjoys the work and it really is a great firm to work for.” I answered.  I sat at the table; she poured me a glass of iced tea and put a plate of sandwiches down between us.  A bowl of chips and another of pickles finished the serving.  She sat down and smiled.  Kinda like a cat after it has finished off a canary.  Her silk blouse was well filled by her breasts, the resemblance between her and Ally was striking, right down to her high heels.  High heels?  At lunch time on a Tuesday?

“So what brings you to town?”  She asked, as if she didn't damn well know.

“Sex.”  I said, just for the reaction.  She shivered and began fingering the buttons on her blouse.

“Sounds like fun.  What did you have in mind?”  She batted her eyes at me.  “Isn't Ally living up to her 'wifely duties'?”  I smirked at that one.

“Mary, you know she has.  Just as you have.  In spades.  With a big casino.”  I waited a second.  “What I'd like to know is how you coped when you were her age so we can figure out what we can do.”  She looked at me dreamily.

“Why don't I show you what I did?” She said huskily. “It's more fun that way.”  She started to get up, but I held her hand and pulled her back down to her seat.

“No, thank you.  I doubt that Ally would approve.  Nor would Jack.  And I don't either.”  She pouted at me as I continued.  “I just want to hear about some things that gave you some relief so that we can consider them ourselves.”

“Airmen.”  She said dreamily, again. “Lots of Airmen. Y'all have a Naval Air Station nearby.  I'll bet Naval Aviators can screw as well as Air Force ones.” 

“I'm sure they can.  But that's not exactly what we had in mind.”  I said. “Allison seems to be able to tolerate less sexual activity the next day if she has an especially...” I paused again.  How do you talk to a woman about her daughter like this?  This whole scene was surreal. “Especially if she has a...a very strong orgasm.”  I rushed it out.  I had to.

“MMMmmm.  Yes.  A hard cum.  A very hard cum.” She squirmed in her seat. “That helps me too.  Maybe a couple of them.  A really draining cum.”  She closed her eyes.  Her nipples were standing out; apparently long nipples was something else they shared.  My slacks suddenly had less slack.  I shook my head.  This was my MOTHER-IN-LAW!  She was also a hot, horny, beautiful female.  Ohhh, shit.

“I remember one afternoon.  At Ms Funderburk's. I would get there early, before the traffic got busy. I didn't want too many people to see where I was going.  Plus I could get a head start with some of the early birds.  Two airmen showed up.  I was the only one in the parlor.  They were disappointed because I was the only one and they hoped for one each.  I asked 'which one of you wants to fuck my ass while I suck the other? Or do you want to do a sandwich?'  They looked at each other and one pulled out a quarter.  He flipped it and the other one called 'tails'.  And that's what he got.”  She smiled again; which turned into a grin.  She took a sip of her tea and said. “I'll be right back.”  And she left the kitchen.

When she returned she had changed out of the skirt and heels and had put on a pair of loose fitting gym shorts and flip flops.  The shorts looked rather incongruous with the blouse.  Kinda sexy, actually.

“If we're just going to talk and not do anything, I thought I'd get comfortable.”  She said. “I hope you don't mind.” 

“Not at all.” I replied.

“You know what happens tonight, don't you.”  It was more a statement than a question. I just nodded.  “Then you know I'm going to have to satisfy all those big, hard, horny men...” 

“I thought it was all those big hard horny men were going to have to figure out a way to satisfy you.  That's what it would be if Allison were here.”  I responded.  She blushed.

“Okay.  You caught me.  But I thought that since you're here to talk sex I would tell you some things and get myself pepped up for tonight.”  She smiled again. “Do you mind if I...touch myself...while we talk?”  Wonderful.  I'm going to listen to my mother-in-law tell me about her days working in a whorehouse while she masturbates.  I think I've fallen down a rabbit hole.  Anybody seen Alice around here?  If a funky cat shows up I'm going to strangle it!

“We...I mean those two airmen I was talking about and I went upstairs to my room.  It didn't take them but a few seconds to get undressed.  I was naked before they were.  They said later that I was licking my lips while they got undressed.  I don't remember that.  I do remember that they looked delicious.  A lot of the girls wouldn't kiss their 'guests' on the mouth...but these young men were just so tempting.  When the first one sat down on the bed I put my arms around him and gave him a big wet sloppy kiss.  He liked it; at least that was the impression I got.  Then his buddy sat down beside me and I turned and gave him one.  Then I laid back and they took over.  My boobs are very sensitive. Especially the nipples.  I think that Allison is that way too, isn't she?”  I nodded, not wanting to interrupt. “They each took one. The one on my right was a sucker.  The one on my left was a chewer.  Mmmm.  I like chewers.  Are you a chewer?”  She asked.

“Sometimes.  When Ally wants it.  Please. Go on.”  I answered.

“While they were working on my breasts one started playing with my cunt.  Do you mind if I'm a little descriptive?  I can get a little nasty when I talk about it.”  She asked.  Again, I shook my head.  “I'm just a whore at heart; I guess.  Jack doesn't like it when I say that.  But it's true.  I'm such a slut.”  She hunched up her shoulders and giggled.  Her aroma started to waft to my nose.  My pants got tighter still.  I'm going to hell.  I just know it.

“Anyway, one of them was playing with my cunt...my pussy.  Is that better?”  I shrugged. “Okay. Cunt.  One was playing with my cunt while the other was teasing my belly button.  I spread my legs and lifted my knees.  So the one that was tickling my belly button...Allison likes to be tickled, too, doesn't she?”  I just closed my eyes while she continued.  “The one that was tickling my belly button slipped his hand under my ass and started pressing his finger against my asshole.  Anus.  I like 'asshole' better.  He started rubbing his finger around my asshole.  My cunt had gotten wet.  Alright...my cunt pretty much stayed wet while I was working, but it had started to run down my crack. My…lubricant.  His finger found some of my...lubrication...my juice.  And he pushed against my asshole. He opened my pucker, so to speak.  Now, I was playing with their cocks.  And they had nice ones, too.  One was a bit longer than the other, but the other was thicker.  I didn't know which one I wanted where.  Now...that's a fib.  I wanted them both in both holes.  Of course, not at the same time.  I didn't find out about that until later. Have you ever put your cock in a woman’s ass while another cock is already in there?  Of course I don’t mean Allison.  I can’t imagine that.”  I could.  I could imagine it very well.  The only reason that I didn’t think she hadn’t was that it didn’t occur to her.  Yet. I shook my head.

“No, Mary.  I haven’t.  I’ve never done a three way.  Either way.”  I replied.

“Ohhhh…it’s wonderful.  Both ways.” 

She seemed to be in a different place.  Some other universe.  Where sons-in-laws get to fuck their mother-in-law.  Was I in a hand basket? 

“Where was I?  Oh, yes.  That beautiful young man was finger fucking my asshole.  Lovely boy.  Such nice hands.  He slipped his finger inside me.  Then he did it again. He put three fingers in my ass while his buddy had three more in my cunt.”  She slipped into her reverie again.  She returned “They really knew how to tease me.  One of them turned to get his cock near my face.  I couldn’t let that opportunity go to waste.  I slurped it down my throat like it was a strand of spaghetti.  Uncooked spaghetti.  Maybe a whole box of spaghetti.”  She giggled.  “I think he was surprised that I got it completely down my throat.  I guess he hadn’t had me before because that was one of my favorite tricks. I throat fucked him for a few minutes.  I really took a lot longer than I should have.  Eleanor didn’t like me to take too much time with the ‘guests’ because it slowed things down.  But I wasn’t really there for the money.  And I was one of her most popular girls.  I made sure they felt special.  They liked that.  They made me feel special, too.”  She closed her eyes, perhaps revisiting that day.  She opened them and looked at me, a funny little smile on her lips.  I could tell that her fingers were working inside of her shorts.

“His buddy got impatient.  He wanted some of my throat, too.  So I pulled away and took the other one down.  This was the thicker one.  I remember that it was hard to breathe with it filling my mouth like that.  But I got it all the way down.  The second or third time was easier.  I got used to the size and could get a breath around it.  Marvelous.”  She paused, and then resumed her tale. 

“While I was sucking the thicker cock, his buddy turned me on my side and lifted my leg.  Eleanor had a hard rule about condoms, even back then.  He had rolled one on while I was busy doing his friend.  I felt him pushing against my asshole with his prick so I pushed back and felt him start to ease inside.  By that time I was hot and didn’t want it easy.  I pushed back again and felt him slide all the way inside me.  When he groaned his buddy opened his eyes and realized what was happening.  He had a hard time deciding whether to move down or stay where he was.  But I wanted to feel him fill up my cunt.  I pulled away and started moving against that lovely cock stabbing me in my asshole.  That one didn’t waste any time moving down and getting up against my cunt.  I wasn’t slowing down, either.  That cock in my ass felt too good to waste.  The other cock managed to get inside my cunt, finally. Then they really started fucking me.  HEAVEN!  Oh, my. That was good.  No. It was great.  Those two boys realized what they were doing and slowed down to make it last.  They took turns slamming me, first one then the other.  They started laughing, first at me, but then I started laughing with them.  It felt WONDERFUL! I started to clamp down on which ever cock was moving.  They had never felt a woman do that.  I had pretty strong cunt muscles, too.  I guess they’re really called kegel muscles…but mine were plenty well developed.  I would bear down on one as he tried to slam into me…but he couldn’t.  Then the other one would try and I would squeeze him too.  They couldn’t believe it.  But they loved it.  They must have fucked me for almost forty five minutes.  Eleanor came up while we were fucking.  She probably listened outside of the room for a while before she knocked on the door.  She yelled at me ‘what the fuck is taking so long?’  That made me laugh because she never used that kind of language.  She ran a VERY proper kind of whorehouse.  I just yelled back, ‘they’re just slow Ms Funderburk’ and I heard her walk away.  She gave me hell later for spending so much time with them.  They finally came and I thought they had passed out.  But I guess they just nodded off for a few minutes.  They each tipped me a hundred bucks.  So it really wasn’t so unprofitable.  And it was just wonderful.”  She closed her eyes and drifted back a few years to that feeling of fulfillment. 

I felt the basket drop a few more feet.

Chapter 9

While her eyes were closed I noticed that her right hand had slipped inside the waistband of the gym shorts.  The movement under the fabric told me that she had found something to do that reminded her of those days.  While I waited for her to return to this afternoon I helped myself to another sandwich.

       “Whew!” She said, opening her eyes and remembering where she was.  “I'm sorry!  I didn't mean to ignore you like that!.”  She blushed, easing her hand out of her shorts.  Suddenly the kitchen had a more...feminine fragrance.  Can a strangled erection be fatal?

       “No, no.  That's alright.  I was just having another bite.”  I said.

       “I could probably find you something else to chew on...” She looked at me through half closed eyes – bedroom eyes, I suspect, and lifted her eyebrows.

       “Mary.  Please.  I'm your son-in-law.  Your daughter's husband.  What would she think?”  I responded.

       “Mmmm.  She thinks you're delightful.  And hung.  I think you're delightful.  And want to find out.”  She replied.

       “MARY!”  I said forcefully, raising my voice. “No!  Not going to happen! Now...” I calmed down, attempting to restore some sanity to the situation. Okay, attempting to bring me back to some semblance of sanity.  I had little hope for her.  She seemed absolutely nonplussed.  She just gazed back at me, a slight smile on her face.

       “Please.  I'm here to try to learn something that might help Allison..you remember your daughter Allison?”  I continued, “And me to learn how we might give her some...relief...and still keep our marriage intact.”  I was getting distraught.  The problem was...she knew it.  She smiled and seemed to come back into the moment.

       “Are you?  Are you, really?”  She paused.  “I thought you were here to hear of my...escapades of working in Ms...working as a whore.”  She actually blushed a little at that and looked out of the window.  She turned back to me.  “I don't get to tell many people about...about my condition or what I've had to do to control it.  It really controls me.  I've talked to therapists about it.”  She looked away again.  “Lord knows the number of therapists I've been to.”  She looked back at me.  “Do you know why therapists bill you for an hour but only spend forty five minutes with the patient?”  I shook my head.  “So they have five minutes to write down some notes that they might not think of when they listen to the tapes and ten minutes to masturbate and straighten up before the next patient arrives.  Or to stop laughing.  Depends on the patient.”  She gazed at me, still smiling. “Ever notice that the air in a therapists' office always smells like air freshener?”  I squirmed a bit, uncomfortable both from her comments and thinking about them.  “So the office doesn't smell like a wet cunt.”  She laughed. “You can't smell semen as much.”  Her eyes sparkled.  “Unless you've worked in a whorehouse!”  She laughed again.

I gave her a chance to settle down.  I took some deep breaths.

       “Mary...”  I began. “You've going to have company in little while...”She held up her hand and smiled at me.

       “I know.  Hear me out.  Let me tell you some things.  They probably won't help much.  They'll probably just make you horny...which may help Allison.  I want you to promise me that you'll come back and listen again sometime.  Come back and bring Allison...though she doesn't have to listen to my stories.  I just like to visit with her.  She can talk to her dad while we talk...about sex.” She grinned. “Maybe we can figure out something that will help both of us.”

       “Both of us...you and Allison or you and me?”  I asked.  She shrugged her shoulders.

       “Whichever. Would you like a drink?  Because I do.”  I shook my head as she got up and fixed herself a stiff bourbon.  I was stiff enough.  “I'm going to tell you about an afternoon I had.  I've never told anyone this.  I've wanted to for years...but I didn't think anyone would believe it.  You might not either...but you'll understand now that you've seen it from your perspective.”  And she began.

       “I was in Ms. Funderburk's parlor. It was a bit early, around 7:30.  There were two other girls there, so far.  It had been a slow day, base payday was still three days off, so things tended to slow down at that time. The doorbell rang and Ms Funderburk let this gentleman come in.  She acted like she might have recognized him, but didn't address him that way.  She brought him into the parlor, and he just stood there looking at us.  He was good looking.  He was tall and built like he was real active.  He had sandy brown hair and hazel eyes.  He didn't exactly smile...he looked curious.  Usually the guys come in like they own the place because they've been there several times before or they're a little hesitant.  This guy seemed to know everything about everything.  He wore an expensive suit, obviously tailored, and his shoes also looked custom.  He looked at each of us and turned to Ms. Funderburk.  She looked at us and said 'Mary.  This gentleman would like some companionship.'  I got up and walked toward them, she looked uncomfortable.  He asked me 'Are you married?'  I suddenly felt uncomfortable too, but just nodded and said 'yes.'  I couldn't understand how he knew unless she had told him.  Or why that mattered.  But it did, apparently. He grinned and showed his teeth...they looked perfect but his grin seemed...carnivorous. He turned to Ms. Funderburk and said 'Excellent! All night, then?'  He had an accent, maybe English. Ms Funderburk looked at me and then him and said 'Until two.  Is six hours enough?'  He nodded and answered.  'Certainly. Splendid' then he did something unusual.  He stepped to the door and picked up a bag, like a sports bag, that he had left there.” 

       “Ms Funderburk never let anyone go up with anything other than what was in their pockets, but she let this fellow bring in a bag.  She was afraid that someone might bring in drugs, or liquor or a gun.  But this guy just came in and acted like he owned the place.  I've thought about it for many years.  I think maybe he did own a part of it.  Anyway, we went upstairs.  Instead of going to my usual room, he steered me down the hall to another room.  We called it the 'Presidential suite' or the 'Bridal suite'.  I doubt that any newlyweds ever came there, but we called it that anyway.  It was a much larger room. It had an adjoining bathroom with a sunken tub, plus it had a California king sized bed. There were rings and hooks hidden in the frame, if you knew where to look.  Apparently, he knew where to look.  He went to the closet and began taking off his clothes and putting them on hangers.  He turned to look at me and said 'I want you naked and stretched out on the bed'.  I took what little I had on off and stretched out on the bed.  He got naked and then he put the bag on the bed beside me.  'Have you ever been tied up?'  He asked.  I shook my head.  'You're married?'  He asked again.  I just nodded.  'Do you do it for the money...or do you just like to fuck?'  I answered him.  'Both.  But mainly because I like to fuck.'  He grinned at that.  'Good.  And does your husband know?'  I nodded again. 'Even better.  Does he like the idea?'  I shook my head 'no'.  'Superb!  This will be even better than I had hoped.  Tell me... do you tell him much?'  I shook my head again; this was getting a bit personal and even more uncomfortable.  'Splendid! Here's what's going to happen.  I'm going to have a bit of fun.  You're going to have a LOT of fun.  I suspect that you don't get enough of what you need to fully satisfy you...I'm going to give that to you.  You don't have to tell HIM...but he might appreciate it if you tell him a little.  Maybe he'll get an idea that can help you, too.  If he doesn't, tell Eleanor. I might come back and give you more.'  He got a bunch of straps and things out of his bag.  He put some...wrist things on my arms and something similar on my ankles and attached them to the corners of the bed.  There were adjustments on them that allowed him to shorten the length because once he put them on me he tightened them up.”

       “That was a big bed...so he must have known about it.  He tightened them up until my tits started to flatten out and it was hard for me to breathe.  The he asked me 'Are you ticklish?' And I nodded.  I am, sometimes, sometimes not.  This time I wasn't, I guess I was nervous.  He pulled a feather out and started stroking me with it; but it didn't do anything. He didn't say anything but he put it away.  'Have you ever been spanked for telling a fib?'  I nodded, because my parents used to when I was little.  'Does you husband spank you?'  He asked me.  I shook my head and said 'No. He's too gentle for that.  He loves me.'  'Pity.'  He said to me.  'Just because he loves you, doesn't mean he can't spank you.  After all, you might like it'.  He picked up a blindfold and put it over my eyes.  'I don't love you.  I like you already...but I don't love you.  And I WILL spank you.  Right before I whip you.'  That made me scared.  I heard him get something out of the bag and I heard a swishing sound, like he was swinging it around.  Then he put that down on the bed and got something else out.  He swished that around, but it sounded different, somehow.”

       “He did that several more times and it felt like he put each thing down on the bed.  Then I felt the bed sag down and I felt him next to me. 'I'm going to do some things that you may have never done before.  Some might sting a bit'.  That sounded like what a doctor says right before he hurts you a LOT!  I knew that Ms. Funderburk wouldn't let anything bad happen to me...but she wasn't here.  And the whole situation seemed strange. He put his hand on my abdomen and I jumped.  I wasn't expecting that.  He rubbed me a bit them moved up to my breasts.  He squeezed one, hard, and then squeezed them both, very hard, using his other hand.  He pinched both of my nipples, starting at the bottom of the nipple and sliding up, like he was milking them. He did this several times, and then he moved down and slipped a finger into my cunt and I was surprised that I was so wet.”

       “'My, my!  What have we here'.  He seemed delighted that I was wet. He pulled me open and started spreading my...wetness around.  I heard him chuckle and then he said 'I think you're enjoying this much too much.  I'm going to have to see just how much you DO enjoy it.'  He moved off the bed and the next thing I knew my belly felt like he had burned me!  I felt a line of fire across my belly.  Then he did it again. One above then another below the first one. He didn't say anything, he just hit me, slowly.  I mean he waited between each stroke.  The strokes themselves weren't slow.  They were so fast that I didn't hear them at first.  I could just make out the sound before they hit.  I was stiff as I could be, just scared stiff. He had already stretched me out so that I could barely move, so I couldn't get out of they way.  Plus I couldn't see so I didn't know which way to go.  I held my breath...No, I couldn't breathe.  He waited then, for me to breathe.  When I took a breath he hit the underside of my boobs.  That's when I screamed.  When I took another breath to scream again he put his hand over my mouth and said 'If you must do that I will gag you.  Is that what you want?'  I shook my head under his hand and he took it away.  He must have known what I was going to do because when he hit my boobs again and I opened my mouth to scream again he stuffed a ball in my mouth.  The ball had straps on it and he pulled them around my head and buckled it.  That's when I REALLY got scared.”

She took a sip of her drink; I squirmed around, trying to find some extra room in my pants.  At that point I was tempted to beg off and find the bathroom.  I didn't need to pee.

       “He said to me, 'I told you.  Now, I don't want to disturb the neighbors.'  I didn't know if he meant the other 'guests' or the other houses that were at least five miles away.  He let me calm down and then told me 'Take deep breaths.  Nice, slow, deep breaths.'  I took several and when I took the next one he struck my thigh.  He let me take another few and when I inhaled again he hit my other thigh.  He kept that up; every other deep breath he would strike me on my inhale.  Then after a little while I realized that they really didn't hurt all that much.  He was very careful where he hit me.  Sometimes on the outside of my leg, sometimes on the inside.  Sometimes very close to my cunt, some times on my shoulder.  I didn't know where he was going to hit me.  But the funny thing was...I didn't care. I did realize that my jaw was sore from biting down so hard on the ball between my teeth.  So I relaxed. I just wanted him to pop me with whatever it was wherever he wanted to.  Then he stopped and I could tell that he had picked up something different.  It made a different sound.  He hit the inside of my leg down at my knee and it felt heavy.  He did that again and he said 'I want to turn you over.  Do you mind?'  I shook my head and he took out the ball gag.  I said 'No, sir.'  I don't know why I said it that way...I just did.” 

       “He loosened the straps or whatever they were and released them and I turned over.  He stretched me out again, this time on my stomach, and he tightened them up again.  Then he held the ball against my lips and I opened my mouth.  He put it in and buckled up the straps.  It was like a normal thing to do.  He straightened out the blindfold and I could tell that something was going to happen.  He hit me on the back of my thigh.  Not real hard, but so I could get used to it.  The next stroke was harder.  Then he started hitting me continuously.  Mainly on my butt and legs.  A few on my lower back, then a couple on my shoulders then he quit.  He sat down next to me again and said. 'Now I'm going to spank you.  You told me a fib.  Maybe you didn't mean to...but you did.  You said you were ticklish...but you weren't.  I like woman who are ticklish.  It steals their control when I use the feather.  They can't help it.  But you didn't tickle. So I have to spank you.  Do you understand?'  I nodded my head...but I didn't really understand all that well.  I just knew I was going to get a spanking.  He knew how to spank.  After a about a dozen spanks he stopped and I think he put on gloves.  Then he started again.  I felt like my butt was on fire when he stopped.  He must have taken the gloves off because I could feel his hands when he put them on my ass.  He said “Hmmm.  Hot buns.  The best kind.'  And he slid his hands all over my butt.  He even slipped a hand down inside my thighs and felt my pussy.  I couldn't believe how wet I was.”

       “He said, 'My dear, I do believe you're enjoying this.  Let me see what I can do to make you enjoy it even more.'  It sounded like he rummaged around in his bag again.  I heard some more swishing and then it got quiet.  I heard something; just a slight noise then my legs burst into flames!  Anyway…it felt that way.  Right above the backs of my knees.  Both of them.  I thought that he had sliced them off, it hurt so sharply.  I screamed…of course.  But with the gag, I doubt you could have heard it outside of the room.  Then he did it again.  Just above the first one.  Then before I could get another sound out he did it again.  I could hardly get a breath when the next one fell.  All the way up to my ass cheeks.  He stopped right under my ass.  I guess he was letting me get my breath.  I was breathing pretty hard by then.  Then as I was getting my breath back and taking another breath, he hit me just under my ass…right where my legs turn into my ass.”  She paused, remembering that night.  She looked into my eyes.  “Do you have any idea how tender the skin is right where your legs stop and your ass starts?”  I shook my head.  Actually, I had an idea; but I had never been caned there…so I couldn’t honestly say. 

“Well.  Let me tell you.  It felt like he hit me with an electrical wire.  The pain…shot into my skull and made my eyes hurt.  He let that one sink in, thank heavens!  The next one was above the first and then he did what he did before, waiting for me to take a breath.  I started to just hold my breath…but I had to breathe.  And when I did, he struck me on the second breath. He did this until he reached my shoulders, then he stopped.  By that time I was just quivering.  I couldn’t scream…though I had tried.  I couldn’t see.  My ears were roaring from the blood rushing through me.  The loudest thing I could hear was the sound of air rushing in and out of my nose.  I tried breathing around the gag; but that didn’t work so well.  I was drooling so much that I couldn’t breathe through my mouth.  My chest hurt from trying to breathe through my nose only.  He let me lay there and calm down.”  She took a sip of bourbon.  She looked into my eyes; they were sparkling.  She had very comfortable … memories of that night. 

       “He started to release me, first my ankles then my wrists.  He left the blindfold on me but held my hand and gently pulled me to the edge of the bed.  He was so gentle.  I couldn’t understand him.  He was such a gentleman…but he HURT me!  I realized when I moved across the bed that my pussy was soaking wet.  My back and legs were on fire… but my cunt was aching. I could smell my pussy; my pubic hair must have been matted because It felt like my pussy was stuck closed from laying on it.  He helped me up.  I could hardly stand, so he let me sit on the side of the bed.  I sat there, with the blindfold on and gag in my mouth…but I didn’t touch either one. I just sat and tried to figure out how I felt.” 

       “After a few minutes he picked up my hand and asked me ‘Can you stand?’  I had to hold onto the bed with my other hand, but he helped me and I got up.  He led around to what must have been the foot of the bed and said ‘Stand there.’  I was facing the bed but he turned me around and I felt him put the wrist straps on me and he lifted one hand up and attached it to something in the ceiling.  Then he did the same to the other wrist.  He put straps on my ankles and spread them apart and attached them to the floor, somehow.  He pulled my wrists so that I was standing straight, but not stretched too bad.  He went away for a few minutes and then came back.  I could tell he was doing something, but I couldn’t tell what and I didn’t want to ask.  ‘I prefer my whores to be clean.’  He said, and I guess I stiffened at that.  Back then I didn’t really think of myself as a ‘whore’.  I was just trying to get my…libido? Is that the right word?  My libido under control.  But he knew what I was. I was his whore. And he was in control.  I felt something hot on my pussy.  He had put a hot, wet towel on my cunt.  He held there for a minute and then he switched it for another.  I felt him rubbing something soft over my cunt and I realized what he was doing.  I started squirming around because I didn’t want to be shaved.  As if I had any choice.  He knew what I meant because he struck me across my butt again.  I don’t know what it was, but it hurt worse than anything else he had used yet. ‘Be still!’  He said.  He sounded cross.  I couldn’t tell if he really was…but I would rather be shaved than get any more of those!  I settled down and just shook while he lathered me up.  Then he told me ‘I have a straight razor in my hand.  I AM going to shave your twat.  It should have been done already.  But never mind.  If you don’t want me to shave off any of your bits that you would rather keep, I recommend that you keep still. I’m not quite a surgeon.  So I can’t reattach anything that falls off.’  I got real still after that.  He started at the top and I was surprised at how smooth he was.  I could feel a slight pull…a slight stretching of my skin.  But that was all.  He rubbed me a few times again; I guess he was putting on more shaving cream.  He released my left leg and he pulled it up, I guess he attached it to another line from the ceiling.  He pulled it up and lathered up my upper leg and asshole; then he shaved it off.  He put that one down and did the same thing with the other leg.  He was very careful shaving my asshole.  He took his time doing that.  I heard him humming while he shaved me there.  I think he liked playing with my asshole.  Finally he started moving around and he put another hot towel on me.  He wiped me down and I could fell his fingers gliding over my pussy.  It felt strange.  I was bald down there!  He pulled me open; he pulled each lip away and I felt him blow over my pussy and inside me.  I had never felt anything like that!  'Lovely, just lovely’ I heard him say.  Then he started pulling me open, stretching my lips apart.  He pulled them way apart, until they started to hurt.  He held them like that and started running his fingertips up and down the insides of my cunt lips.  I must have been very wet because his fingers just slipped around on me.  He rubbed some of my juice on my clit very, very gently.  I could barely feel his fingers because of all the juice.  He pushed against the top of my clit...my clit has a rather pronounced hood and it sticks out a bit.  I discovered how much once I got a look at myself shaved bald.  I keep it shaved, now.  Would you like to see how it sticks out?”  I frowned and just shook my head no.  I can be such a liar.  I suspect that her clit and her daughter's have a lot in common.

       “Anyway, he pushed my hood back and started rolling my clit between his fingers...all covered with my slippery juice.  I thought I would explode.  He stopped and put two, maybe three, I couldn't see, fingers inside my cunt and stirred me around.  Then he started rolling my clit again.  He was driving me crazy!”  She sat back for minute and took a long breath.  I thought she didn't need to driven anywhere; she was a short stroll from berserk as it was.

       “He stopped and stood up and walked around to where his bag was.  When he came back I felt him put some kind of a belt on me.  It buckled in the back and I could feel something hanging down from it in front.  Then I felt him put something over my clit.  He did something and I felt my clit get sucked up inside whatever he put on it.  Maybe it was a tube.  He attached it to the belt so that it was held up and stretched away from my cunt.  It felt real weird.  I could feel my pussy was open but he put some clips on my pussy lips and tied them to each other with a cord that went around my thigh.  He stretched me like before, until it hurt, then he started play with my boobs.  I have VERY sensitive breasts.  And my nipples get long when I get excited.  Would you...” She started to ask if I would like to see them but I stopped her. 

       “No, Mary.  NO!  I wouldn't.”  I interrupted her before she could finish asking.  Liar, I am.  She pouted but continued.

“Well, he played with my titties.  He pinched my nipples like he did before, milking them really hard.  I know I groaned.  I couldn't stand it.  Then he pulled the right one out like he was trying to take it off and he put what felt like a rubber band around it.  Then another.  He put a bunch on it and started doing the same thing to the other one.  'Elastics are so handy.  And so entertaining'.  That's what he called rubber bands -'elastics'.  He flicked my nipples with his fingernails.  They felt hard as rocks.  He grabbed my nipples with his fingernails and pinched them and pulled.  That made me gasp.  It hurt...but it was exciting, too. He told me 'I can tell you like this.  You're making quite the puddle on the floor.  I'm going to enjoy watching you lick all that up when I'm finished.'  He waited a minute and I guess he was watching me because the next thing he said was 'Hmm.  When I told you that you would have to lick it up you drooled again. And now you're doing it some more.  Do you like your flavor?'  I shook my head since I couldn't answer him.  'You will before I'm through. Have you ever licked another woman's bits?'  I shook my head again.  'You should. An absolutely delightful experience. One of my favorites. I rarely lick a whore's bits...I guess you can guess why...but I do enjoy my wife’s flavor.  And my mistress's too.  So do they.'  That startled me.  Here's a married man with a mistress and still he comes to a whorehouse.  But I thought that maybe he doesn't do these things to them.  But I wouldn't bet that he didn't.”

       “He stepped back and I heard him in his bag again.  Then I heard him step in front of me and something swished in front of me.  Then it swished again.  Then I started feeling it.  A tiny burning feeling.  At first I felt it on my tummy...it wasn't too bad there.  Then one swished across my right nipple.  I'll never forget that.  My nipple felt like I had stuck it in a light socket.  Then the left one.  Then he moved around.  I don't know how long he did that. Then he stopped and fiddled with the belt and suddenly there was something vibrating my clit.  This was harder than a regular battery vibrator, or maybe because it was sucked up inside that thing.  I was just so sensitive!  Then he started whipping me again.  This time he started at my feet and worked his way up.  It made a different sound when he got to the tops of my thighs.  I guess all my juice dragged on it.  He stopped after a few strokes on my cunt and I felt him fiddling with the belt thing again.  Then he stuck some large thing up inside me and I felt him attach it to the belt too.  It was big, but I was so wet and turned on it could have been a baseball bat and I wouldn't have cared.  OH!  Remind me to tell you about the ballplayer...She shook her head. One story at a time.”

       “He started up again, never hitting me hard with that little whip, but just everywhere.  The vibrator was making the dildo or whatever was in my pussy move around and then he just started working all over my tits.  I was about to explode and I think he could tell.  He stopped and I felt a sharp point, like a needle point against my right nipple.  Then he said 'When I push this hatpin through your nipple I want you to cum.' He started to push but it never got a chance to pierce my skin.  I just exploded!  I came and came.  I shook all over and must have passed out.” 

       “When I woke up I was laying on the floor.  I was untied and he held my head in his lap.  He had opened my mouth and the head of his cock was in it, lying on my tongue.  I realized what it was and started sucking on it.  He let me do that for a few minutes then he said 'First things first.  First you clean up your mess.  Then you clean up mine.'  He lifted my shoulders and pointed me towards the puddle on the floor.  He was right.  I had left a mess.  I made a face at it and stopped.  He smacked my ass with a crop I hadn't seen and said 'I'm going to watch you lick every drop.  And do it slowly.  I want to see each lick on your tongue before you swallow it.'  I said to him 'But it's...its so...' He finished my sentence. 'Humiliating?'  I nodded yes.  'That's the point.  I want to watch my whore lick up her own cum.  And I want to watch you enjoy doing it.  So you better enjoy it. If I need to string you up again you won't cum.  And it won't be nearly as much fun as the first time.' “

She paused for another breath and a sip. 

       

       “He called it fun.  I hurt all over.  Hell, I hurt just from cumming so hard, much less what he did to me.  The as I was about to stick my tongue in it he said 'Wait.  One other thing first.'  Then he got a knife from somewhere behind him and moved over to me.  That scared me too; but I couldn't move.  He put the point of the knife at the base of my boob right at the rubber bands - the 'elastics' he called them – and touched them with the tip.  They flew off and then the blood rushed back into my boob.  Now THAT HURT!  While I was crying over the first one he did the other one.  I saw stars!  I almost collapsed into the puddle but caught myself before my face fell into it.  'Now.  Lick.'  He told me. So I dipped my head down.  When I did my nipples touched the floor and I jumped.  They were so tender.  But I licked at the puddle; slowly like he said.  It smelled strong, like a thoroughly fucked pussy but without semen.  After a few minutes acting like I enjoyed it, it wasn't so bad.  I guess acting the part can convince you to be the part.  But he was right.  By the time I was finished, I DID like it.  And Jack doesn't mind it when I suck him clean after we fuck.  I think that sometimes it reminds him where I acquired the taste for it.  He doesn't mention it, though.”

She gazed out the window, lost in her past again, I guessed.

Chapter 10

       I excused myself; this time I really did need to drain my bladder.  My mind was swirling with her tale.  I was sure that she had plenty more to tell.  Working in a whorehouse, even part time, was bound to have a lot of stories associated with it. 

When I returned she had refreshed both drinks and was a bit flushed.  I didn't know what she might have done; but the aroma gave me a clue.

       “Let me tell you about the rest of the night.  He was ever the gentleman; but quite in control. After I had finished licking up all my cum,” she licked her lips very lasciviously and grinned at me.  I was beginning to feel a slight heart arrhythmia. I was also beginning to understand Jack all the better.  Maybe Ms Funderburk's offer wasn't such a bad idea. She continued.

       “He tied my hands behind my back and told me to get up on the bed.  He got on the bed in front of me and propped himself up on several pillows.  'Crawl up here and work on this.'  He said, indicating his cock.  I scooted up on my knees.  It wasn't easy with the covers but I got there and sort of fell onto his cock.  He had a nice one.  Long, but not too thick.  It was hard to keep my head up while lying on my belly.  I didn't have my hands or arms to prop me up with so all I could do was arch my back and put him in my mouth. My front was still very sore from the whipping and the way he had punished my boobs.  And it didn't take long before my tummy muscles and neck muscles got tired of holding my head up.  He just watched me struggle and I realized that that was what he wanted:  to watch me struggle to suck his cock without strangling on it.  But that was what I was doing, I was strangling.  His long cock was deep enough down my throat that it was hard to breathe around it.  But I couldn't lift my mouth off of it.  When I tried to lie down sideways he would reach out with the crop and smack my ass to make me turn back straight.  I looked into his face and he just smiled and occasionally moved his hips to push his groin all the way against my mouth, then relax and let me keep going.  I think I was turning blue.  But he gave no indication that he was even close to cumming.  I started to get desperate and started to fuck him with my throat.  I held him tight with my lips and sucked as hard as I could while bobbing my head, throat fucking him. He smiled and said 'Well. You did catch on. Very good! You might get your prize if you keep up like that.'  I was getting light headed but my butt was too sore to get many more smacks from that crop.  He finally closed his eyes and leaned back.  He didn't move otherwise, but I felt him twitch in my mouth and I could taste his cum.  He twitched quite a while.  By that time I just held my breath and let him shoot it down my throat.  When he quit twitching I moved my mouth off of him.  'Did I tell you to stop?'  He said. I told him 'No. But I can't stay in this position any longer.'  So I rolled over and made it to a kneeling position and worked up to where I could kneel and bend over to suck him some more.  That was almost as bad, but at least I wasn't choking.  He had softened some, but not nearly as much as I had expected.  He got hard again pretty quickly. I sucked him a while longer when he said 'How's your bum?'  I thought he meant from all the abuse so I said 'It's sore.  I won't be able to sit down for days'.  He laughed and said 'That's not what I meant.  When I get through you might not sit for weeks.  I meant your arse hole.  Is it tight?'  He could tell that I didn't like the sound of that.  I don't mind anal...well at that time I didn't mind anal once in a while.  He changed that, too.” 

She took another sip.  I was about ready for a stiff one.  Drink, that is.  I already had a stiffy.

       “He said 'Turn around.'  So I waddled around and he untied my hands.  I felt him messing with the bag again and he said 'Reach back and spread your arse cheeks. Wide.'  So I did and he put some thick slippery gel on my asshole.  He massaged it in and slipped a finger in.  It went in real easy so he slipped another in and started spreading them and crossing them.  He was massaging my sphincter.  He slipped another finger in and kept massaging and stretching my hole.  It didn't really hurt.  The stretching was a bit uncomfortable, but nothing compared to what he had done already.  I guess my endorphins or whatever they are had kicked in and I didn't feel as much pain.  I was lying on my tummy with my ass up in the air for him.  He lifted me up by my waist and put a couple of pillows under me to support me.  He kept playing with my newly shaved asshole.  Then he said 'All that hair that you used to have isn't in the way now.  Nothing to catch at the wrong moment.'”

       “He obviously had plenty of experience. He sat up and put some of the gel on his cock and slipped it into my asshole.  It still didn't hurt, actually it felt pretty good.  I felt full, but not unpleasant, like when men have taken me there before.  He went slowly, easing in and out just a bit.  He was touching some of the marks he had made on my back and legs.  I could feel his fingertips trace some of the welts he made. 'Touch yourself.'  He told me, so I eased a hand under me and started playing with my clit and pussy.  I was soaking again!  He just kept moving slowly, sometimes coming almost completely out then moving all the way in.  He sat back and spread my cheeks apart and pulled out and looked at me.  When I felt my asshole tighten up he put himself back inside and said 'You're the whore.  You're supposed to be fucking me.  So...fuck me.'  I know I blushed when he said that.  Other men didn't talk to me like that, but he liked to say things that embarrassed me.  He liked to humiliate me.  And it got me excited, too.  I didn't know why.  Still don't.  But I got even wetter when he told me that.  I started fucking him back.  I put two fingers in my pussy and I could feel him inside me.  That excited me more.  I started trying to rub him with my fingers from inside my pussy. “Hmmm.  The whore is learning her trade at last.'  Was all he said.  I don't know how long it took.  A long time, I think.  I started fucking him harder because it felt good to me too.  He finally came again.  I fell down on the pillows and he leaned back.  When I started to move away he said 'And where do you think you're going?'  I looked back at him and he was pointing at his cock.  'A proper whore cleans up after herself.'  I must have looked horrified at the idea because he picked up the crop and slashed me across my shoulder then my ass.  He didn't look very happy at that point so I crawled over and started to suck him clean.  I didn't like it.  He knew I didn't like it; I think that's why he made me do it.  He didn't taste good.  When I got him clean he smiled and said 'We're going to turn you into a first class whore yet.'  I made a face at him and he laughed and got up.  He went to the bathroom and I heard him pissing.  At least he had the decency to go to the toilet for that.  I could hear him running the water and washing. When he came back he said 'Now it's your turn.  While you're in there, brush your teeth.  When you come back we can fuck.'  I couldn't believe that he said that.  I couldn't believe that he could do it again.  But I went to the bathroom and when I came back, we fucked.”

Chapter 11

       “We fu        cked in all the different positions you can think of.  He was just as hard as when I had first sucked him.  I was worn out. My pussy was wet and sloppy.  When he came at last he lay on his back and I fell over next to him.  After a few seconds he looked at me and then at his now softening cock and raised his eyebrows. 'Well?'  Was all he said. I managed to get back up and suck him clean again.  After the first two times this was okay.  In fact I liked the taste better with his cum mixed with my juices than my asshole.  Well, my juices and my cum.  I came at least twice more while he was fucking me.  I was worn completely out.  Once he was clean he crooked his finger at me and I crawled up to him.  'Tell Eleanor that I approve of her choice.  You can let yourself out.  I'm sure you know the way.'  And he closed his eyes and could have been asleep; but I'm not sure.  I picked up my clothes and went out.  Ms Funderburk was waiting in the parlor.  She smiled at me and watched as I got dressed in my street clothes.  'How are you?'  She asked me.  'Sore.  All over, more than anyplace else.'  She chuckled at that.  'He's thorough, isn't he?'  I nodded.  I wondered if perhaps he had done something similar to her.  'He said to tell you that he approved of your choice.'  She lifted her eyebrows at that.  'Then you must have impressed him.  And that isn't easy.  He's most particular.'  She said.  'Peculiar is more like it' I replied.  She laughed and agreed with that.  I went home and didn't even think to ask about the money.  The next time I went back to work there I found that he had paid double.”  She smiled at the memory.

About that time the door opened and Jack came in.  I hadn't realized how late it had become.  The “poke her” party would be starting soon.

       “Good afternoon, my love.”  Mary greeted Jack.  He kissed her and sat down at the table.  He asked me:

       “How was the afternoon?”  I just nodded and said “Interesting. Very interesting.”  He started to smile when Mary filled him in.

       “I told him about the English gentleman.”  Jack's smile turned into something like a scowl and he got up and went to the fridge to retrieve a beer.  He held one for me and I nodded.  “Just one. Then I need to get home.” 

       “Fucking limey bastard.”  Was his only comment.  Mary blushed.

       “Honey, you know you like some of the things he taught me.”  Jack scowled again.         “And you remember that I wasn't horny again for almost two weeks.”  She stood up and smiled at me and shrugged her shoulders then left the kitchen.  Jack handed me a beer just said:

       “Fucking limey bastard.”

Chapter 12

       I got away before the party started.  Jack offered to let me have the first go at Mary; but I declined.  I think he understood too well.  The drive home was just the way I like it – uneventful.   It gave me a chance to think about some things.  Ally seemed to be very much like her mother.  It gave me hope that there might some things to be learned from Mary’s past experiences.  I decided that I needed to see Ms Eleanor one more time.

I got home to find my wife in a horny way.  Like there was something else new?  But I had planned for this.  I blindfolded her and took her into our playroom.

       “I’ve got a surprise!”  I told her.  She wanted to look happy; but several of my surprises haven’t been as pleasant as she might have wanted.  She always had a happy ending…but sometimes getting to it wasn’t as much fun for her as it was for me!  I unlocked the door to our playroom closet.  We had agreed that the closet was off limits to her. She didn’t need to get into it without my assistance.  She stood there, unseeing, as I pulled out a Sybian she didn’t know anything about and positioned it under the suspension beam.  I had ordered it with the “GMax” attachment and the double insertion.  Also a “Jumbo” insertion.  I wondered if that might be overkill, but probably not. I took her clothes off of her.  I like to do that.  It’s like unwrapping a present. Even though I know what’s inside, it’s still a thrill.  She’s just so luscious. 

       I placed her hands into a reverse prayer position in the harness I had made for her. That was attached to the suspension beam to keep her stable. I lubed up the “GMax” I had already installed and got a large butt plug with a hard flange.  I hoped that the base of the insertion would transmit the vibrations through the plug flange and give her a double delight.  I stepped behind her and slid the butt plug in.  Actually that’s not quite right.  I bent her over and ended up shoving the thing in.  But she likes it a bit rough, so it was okay.  I eased her down onto the “GMax” and got a pair of manacles and chained her ankles together with the chain passing over the back of the machine.  That would keep her from moving off of the thing.  I found some large “elastics” and put them on the base of her boobs.  A couple of sharp toothed nipple clips with built in vibrators completed the package.  Now for me.  I pulled up a tall stool that allowed me to adjust the height so that my cock was at the same level as her mouth.  I was going to use all the pent up tension that her mother had instilled in me that afternoon. Sort of a family circle, so to speak.

       “Once I turn everything on, you’re going to suck my cock until I turn it all off.  I want to cum at least four times.  Got it?” 

       “Sure.  You know I love to suck your cock.”  Then she stuck her tongue at me and wagged it around.  Got to love her.  I turned the nipple clips on first.  That made her jump.  By now her boobs were dark red.  They would be dark purple before we were through.  Then I turned on the Sybian.  It has an adjustable control.  I started it low, and then just turned it all the way up.  I didn’t want to prolong it; I wanted her simply to cum until she passed out.  She started sucking.  I was hard.  Hell, I’d been hard for hours.  My balls ached.  I figured I was good for at least two, maybe three times.  I wanted to make her give me four.  I had only cum that many times in a day, much less in one evening.  But if she wanted off that thing, she had to work for it.  The Sybian worked, I’ll give it that.  She started cumming within ten minutes, it took me six.  The next one took me another fifteen, her four.  Then she started cumming almost constantly.  She started jerking too much to keep my cock in her mouth so I turned it down.  She would only jerk every few minutes, but she never asked me to turn it off.  She didn’t know that it was going to continue until she passed out, only that she had to get me off four times.  My cock was too sensitive for her to suck on after the second time, so I only let her just lick it and massage it with her tongue until I could stand for her to suck on it again.  She still didn’t want it to stop.  When my cock calmed down enough for her to suck it again, I turned the control up.

       “Did you know that your mother once worked in a whorehouse?”  I asked her just before I turned up the control again.  She stiffened. But she just nodded her head without dropping my cock from her mouth.  I continued “She seems to have a condition like yours.  But I don’t really want to whore you out. Do you want me to?”  She shook her head, again not losing my cock.  “Good.  We may have to get a little…original.  But we can discuss that later.  Okay?”  She nodded again.  “Did you know that this is ‘poke her’ night?”  She stopped sucking but didn’t drop my cock.  She mouthed around my cock:

       “’Ow id oo ind out?”

       “I’m a P.I.  It’s my job to find out stuff. Why didn’t you tell me?  You’re keeping secrets.”  She didn’t say anything, just mouthed my cock.  I saw tears dripping out from under the blindfold.  I wanted to turn it off and talk, but she wasn’t finished yet and I wanted to use this distraction to intensify the experience.  “Now. I don’t know what she told you.  But for the rest of this evening I want you to think of yourself as MY whore.  I’m your john.  Your job is to make me cum.”  I grabbed her beautiful, gorgeous, eatable hair and pulled her toward me.  I got down so that my mouth was close to her ear.  “You’re my whore.  Make me cum.  Make yourself cum.  That’s your J.O.B.  Your job.  You’re a WHORE, cocksucker.  Got it?”  She dropped my cock and said:

       “Yes, sir.  May I fuck you with my throat, sir?”  She quivered and I turned the machine on full.  I came again, twice, in the next forty minutes.   Three minutes after, she was unconscious. 

Chapter 13

       I returned to Ms “Funderburk’s” little establishment for more background.  The surprises just kept on coming.  I had called in advance for an appointment, she was much more inviting this time.

       “Come in, come in, Mr. Stephens.”  She welcomed me into the house and led the way again to her office.

       “It’s Mark, please, Ms. Funderburk.”  I answered.

       “Then call me Eleanor.’  She replied.  “And how are Jack and Mary?”   I had given her their phone number to verify that I was not trying anything funny and was sure that she had called, but I maintained the pretense.

       “They are fine.  I had a very interesting afternoon with Mary not too long ago.”  I told her.

       “Ohhh..?” She said, turning to look at me.

       “Strictly a conversation, Eleanor.  Nothing more.”  She grinned and turned back, her hips suddenly had an extra little bounce or something.  Why did I have to get married BEFORE I met all these lovely ladies that wanted to jump my bones?  Fuck me.  Or at least it seemed that way.  We made it to her office and we sat down.

       “So.  What was so confidential that you couldn’t ask me on the phone?”  She began.  I had refused to discuss details in order to convince her to see me in person.  I couldn’t read her over the phone like I could in person.

       “It’s…it’s not ‘confidential’.”  I made quotes with my fingers around ‘confidential’.  “It’s just that I need to discuss some things that I don’t feel comfortable discussing on the phone.  Mary told me about at least one night she spent with someone…I think is your business partner.”  This wasn’t quite fabrication.  I had spent a considerable amount of time researching her and all her business activities.  At some time she apparently had had at least one partner or investors.  I couldn’t find out exactly what they were or who they were.  Small business reporting requirements aren’t like SEC filings.  She didn’t respond to my line, yet. 

       “She told me of spending an evening with some one who seemed, from what she or maybe he said that leads me to believe has or had an interest in the business.  She still didn’t budge.  She asked:

       “What does my business dealings have to do with your figuring out how to best fuck your wife?”  Her attitude was stern.  I wasn’t having any effect on her.

       “He had a very…effective way at dealing with her problem.  He is English, I believe.”  At that she grinned a VERY wide grin.

       “You’re a lousy fisherman.  You don’t fish worth a shit.  And your target is all wrong.  I hope you can shoot a gun better than that, gumshoe.”  She laughed at me.  I squirmed.  I had taken a chance and blew it.

       “Okay, you got me.  I sometimes have to speculate.”  I said.

       “Speculate?  Shit, you’re fabricating, not speculating.  But you’re right about his background.  He’s English.  Quite. But he’s not a business partner.  He’s my former husband.” 

And she grinned again.  What the FUCK?!

       “Husband?  You’re kidding.”  Was all I could come up with.  She was still grinning.

       “Nope.  FORMER husband.  I was doing outcall, had a pretty good book going.  He booked me for a night.  The first night he was pretty vanilla.  I wasn’t really into the rough stuff. I’m still not. I tried some light bondage with him.  He’s good.  I had never had a john that took the time to thrill me like he did.” 

She stopped, waiting for my reaction.  By that time I had managed to pick up my jaw and close my mouth.

       “Please, go on.”  I encouraged.

       “We ended up getting married.  I still don’t quite understand why I married him.  Infatuation I suppose.  I found out afterward that he needed a simple fix to keep his visa legal.  I was the fix.”

       “And you were still…hooking?”  I asked.  She nodded.

       “He has a rather…cavalier attitude towards things like marriage and sex.  And other legal niceties. He met me hooking; he knew it was my livelihood.  He certainly didn’t want to have to work even harder to support me.  He once told me ‘Just don’t wear it out or come home dripping’.  Other than that, he was okay with it.” 

I just shook my head.  Some things are beyond my ken.

       “So what happened?”  I asked.

       “”He hated condoms.  Wouldn’t use them.  I didn’t make him use them with me, but I wanted him to use them if he was shagging any other girls.”   She noticed my bulging eyes.  “What?  I was screwing other men.  Sometimes several different ones in the same day.  He decided that if I could then he could.  What was I to say?  Like I said, he was cavalier.”  She mused for a moment. 

       “I discovered that he wasn’t using condoms and confronted him with it.  He said he had a latex sensitivity.  So I told him to use skins.  Besides, he used them with me before we got married.  Complained about it, but I required it.”  She said.

       I had wondered about that when Mary told me about their evening.  She hadn’t mentioned condoms and had disliked sucking him clean after anal.  If they had used a condom it wouldn’t have been a problem.

       “Anyway he gave me a little bug.  It was embarrassing, and I think maybe cost me a customer or two.  We split over that.  He wouldn’t use them and I required them, even with me after that.  We got divorced and shortly after it was final he married a girl with a twin sister.  He was screwing them both.”  She told me.

       “Did they know he was doing both of them?”  I asked.

       “Know?  Of course.  It’s hard to miss the fact that the cock you’re trying to suck is moving in and out of your twin sister’s cunt.”  She answered.  “They all live together.  He likes the interchangeability. They’re so close that it’s hard to tell which one’s which.  He doesn’t care.  He fucks them the same.”

Now my head was really spinning.

       “So the mistress he told Mary about was his sister in law?”  I asked.  She nodded, grinning again.

       “Yep.  And he still screws around on them too.  They all swing together.  A bit exotic for this area, don’t you think?”  She asked.

       “You…you could say that.” I responded.  “Are they still at it?  From the way Mary described him he must have been much older than you.”

       “He’s a few years older than I am; though not many.  I try to take care of myself.  I still enjoy a roll in the hay myself, you know.”  She said.  “The old gal still has a few tricks in her.  Hmm.  That didn’t come out quite right.”  She grinned at that one, too.  “But why do you want to know about him?  What does he have to do with you and your wife?”

       “Well…the way Mary described him I thought maybe he could give me some insight into handling Ally’s problem.  Apparently he did a bang up job…maybe that’s the wrong choice of words…”  she interrupted me.

       “No…right words.  He DOES do a ‘bang up’ job of banging.  He’s the best or at least in the top three cocksmen I’ve ever met.  And I’ve met more than a few.  He has an instinctual ability to read what excites a woman.  He uses it for his own pleasure as well as hers.  How do you think he can help?”

       “I don’t know if he can or not.  But the therapists can’t.  They couldn’t help Mary, either.  He’s the closest thing to a successful…therapist that I’ve seen.  I DON’T propose to let him have his way with my wife.  I’m not sure that I want her to even meet him.  But I do…I think.”

       “I suspect that if he’ll even reply he’ll demand to meet the daughter of the woman he had so much fun with in my little…establishment.”  She said. “I’ll be glad to call him.  What’s your e-mail address.  I suspect that that is how he would prefer to start out.”

       “Call him?  Are you still in touch with him?”  I asked.

       “Sure.  He even drops by from time to time.  I give him a discount.  We parted fairly amiably.  Like I said, he’s smoooth.” She smiled at that.  I just shook my head.

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.