This narrative is part of a multi-part story that explores the sexual exploits of a Midwestern couple who wanted a change in locale, but are experiencing much, much more.
Warning: subject matter includes hotwife/cuckold/group sex topics. This story is tagged as such, so if you do not care for these types of tales, move on. You are your only enemy if you continue reading.
Those that do choose to continue, please know reading previous chapters will help you better understand the characters and their journey.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Anything depicted has no relation to past or current people and events. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are over 18.
+++++
February 9th. Thirteen days to go.
The cold, peaceful early Iowan morning was shattered as fifteen hundred cubic centimeters of pure Harley-Davidson power roared to life. Inside one of the residences on the idyllic street, Corey Miller sat upright in bed, eyes nudged open by the sudden POP-POP-POP of the idling engine.
For a moment, he couldn’t quite place where he was. Squinting in the pre-dawn darkness, he began to recognize Caroline’s old bedroom, then glanced down at his phone.
Half past six. What the fuck?
Tossing off a pink, frilly comforter, the red eyed father stumbled to the window and looked down at the cul-de-sac. There beneath him, flooded in orange sodium vapor, a shadowy figure on a large bike walked the machine backwards into the street, put it in gear, and zoomed out of sight.
Zane Picardo.
As the fog of sleep slowly dissipated, Corey recalled it was Friday. Of course, must be headed to the garage. While the remnants of the motorcycle rumbling faded in the distance, situational awareness began to pepper his consciousness.
Zane…Caroline’s bedroom…morning.
Corey saw the frown of his reflection looking back at him in the frosty window.
It all made sense now.
Zane and Lauren had been out drinking.
Corey joined them.
All three came back to their house.
The mechanic had spent the night.
…and thoroughly fucked my wife.
+++++
Goddamnit, Picardo! the biker shook his head as freezing winds buffeted him and Bessy. Just couldn’t keep your dick under control, could you?
With a crusty mixture of Lauren’s juices and semen still stuck to his very cold penis, Zane cursed a profound lack of willpower and good judgment. The first time he’d been with his best friend’s wife was arguably not his fault. Okay, sure, maybe a better friend would have dragged her ass out of Freddie’s restroom, given her his bed, then slept elsewhere. But he’d been unaware of the Miller’s game at the time, she’d thrown himself at him, and he was way lit. I mean, what’s a guy to do?
But this time he knew exactly what he’d gotten himself into and did nothing to stop it. That made him as complicit as anyone. And let’s face it, he didn’t take Lauren out on a date to perpetuate Corey’s kink. He’d done it to get another taste of that glorious pussy.
At the end of the day, what did that say about him?
+++++
Furrowed forehead against the windowsill, patchy memories of the previous evening began to reconstruct themselves in bits and pieces. Playing second fiddle to his best friend, being a third wheel to Lauren’s date, being outed in a bar. If that hadn’t been enough, he had to endure being blue-balled by his own wife in favor of his lifelong buddy. AND the guy purposely spilled his seed over her wedding ring, a symbol of undying love repurposed to one of affront.
Yesteryear’s Corey would not have stood for it. One minute after seeing their amorous behavior in the honky-tonk, Zane would have had a fist in his face. Two minutes after that, the biker and his coworkers would have kicked his ass, but at least Corey would have taken his shot.
Now, of course, the dynamic was different. The fetish had grown from fantasy to reality, and while Lauren continued to spiral out of control with her newly encouraged freedom, so did Corey, the kink exercising a grip akin to any drug addiction. He not only wanted to experience the things Lauren was enabling but was also beginning to need it. The thrill was ever elusive now, harder to chase. At first, he was content with Lauren dressing sexier. Then it was flirting, watching her have sex, and recently, a penchant for being humiliated. What was next?
Whatever it was, his wife and best friend seemed willing to take him there.
+++++
Indeed, that addiction was the chief reason he hadn’t stopped last night’s show on the couch; why he hadn’t broken into the master bedroom. Resigned to being locked out, he had slid down the door on his back, drink tray in hand, and listened intently. With cupped ears, he had tried to catch anything that would give him a clue as to what was going on in his room. His bed. His sheets.
There had been giggles, then passionate sighs, followed by more giggles.
‘So handsome…’
‘So beautiful…’
‘You like that?’
‘Mmmm, Jesus, you do that so well…’
More sighs, gasps, perfervid moans.
While carrying their drinks upstairs a mere five hours ago, Corey had been so sure he was going to get lucky too. Although he knew his friend was better equipped, with far more stamina, the threesome with Max the Miami bar owner only months ago had gone quite well, so the older man had figured ‘why not’?
But that was then, and now the shunned project manager had found himself on the outside listening in, one hand bending an earlobe, the other clasped around a growing erection.
There had been rustling, then more whispering voices that seemed to be just on the other side of the door.
‘What do you think he’s doing?’ Zane had asked.
‘Probably jacking off,’ Lauren had chuckled.
Corey remembered looking down at the hand stroking his withered penis and drawing a breath.
More giggles, mere inches away through the white panels.
‘Enough about him, are you going to fuck me, or what?’
‘Get in bed, bitch.’
For the next several minutes, Corey sat on the floor, in the hallway, back against the door and tugging on his cock while listening to the naughty sounds of foreplay. He couldn’t always make out what the two were saying, but the sloppy kisses were unmistakable. And there were the occasional snippets.
‘Right there…’
‘Oh, shit, yes, make love to me…’
Gradually pillow talk gave way to random, impassioned moans. As the creaking bed became brisker, so did their fervent cries, crescendo after crescendo, until yelps of mutual climaxes were clearly heard through the paneled wood. Then…nothing.
Sliding up the door to his feet, cock dangling from rumpled trousers, Corey had left the tray of drinks outside the master chambers and staggered across the hallway into Caroline’s old bedroom. A blast from the past, the couple had kept it the same as when their daughter moved out so she could relive memories when visiting.
But Corey was not into waxing nostalgic, especially right then. Hurrying passed framed photos and momentos on the way to her bathroom, he had barely flipped up the floral lace toilet seat cover when he came, one hand on his dick, the other making a fist which he bit to suppress the sound of his orgasm. Below, small jets of ejaculate shot into the porcelain bowl below, clotting in the water, then dispersing.
Exhausted, the besieged graying wittol had slowly made his way toward Caroline’s decidedly froufrou bed, shedding clothing along the way, not caring where they landed. Climbing in, wearing just his briefs, Corey’s evening concluded when he pulled the frilly blankets over his head and fell into a fitful sleep.
+++++
Lauren’s night, of course, had finished quite differently. Both her and Zane were well oiled before Corey ever arrived at the bar, and this only served to fuel their behavior. She knew she had pushed her husband at Shady’s with the bait and switch. ‘Dinner with a friend’ had become ‘Drinks with a date’, but hoped her conduct would supply the nurturing he needed. True, outing him had not been planned, yet in the moment, it seemed like a devilishly roguish way to pull his levers. And from the looks of things, it had worked.
Nor had she planned on locking him out of the bedroom, just after asking him to bring them drinks. But she could tell Zane had been a little weirded out by them having sex in front of Corey on the couch. Besides, Corey had mentioned several times how hot it was listening to her fuck. Of course, there was no way of really knowing how that affected him until morning, she told herself while brushing Zane’s cum out of her mouth. The sun would come up soon enough.
+++++
As the big bike faded into the dawn, Corey turned from the window and looked across his daughter’s bedroom. All along the dresser were various pictures of the family. He and the girls on fishing trips; Cee and her mom on softball and soccer outings; Lauren exuding that perfect PTA mother and wife persona. The one that used to exist BC, or ‘before cuck’ as she had taken to calling it. As sick as it sounded, these are the photos he masturbated to while sounds of his wife being pummeled for the countless time echoed across the way. Even he couldn’t deny crossing the line when cumming on a framed photo of Lauren and Caroline hugging each other. How depraved it must have looked, his aging body kneeling on his daughter’s mattress, milking hot jizz out of his withered cock onto their faces. Still, the climax experienced was simply beyond words.
Making a mental note to wash the soiled purple sheets, Corey stepped across the hallway and put his ear to the door of the master bedroom, listening carefully. Hearing nothing, he tried the knob, which turned easily, unlike the night before. With little effort, it swung open to the rosy first fingers of a rising sun falling on the king bed. His bed. Their marital bed. The bed where his buddy had just subjected Corey’s wife to untold debauchery. And somewhere beneath the covers was Lauren, snoring quietly as she slept off a night of drinking and cocksucking.
Stealthily creeping closer until standing at the headboard, he peered down at the petite lump, the blanket gently rising and falling with each breath. Only a nose was visible, poking through that dark mane of hair, which appeared dirty and matted. The smell of sweat and semen hung in the air, removing any doubt of the fornication that had occurred. A quick flick of the sheets uncovered Lauren’s body, nude except for a pair of woolly socks undoubtedly donned sometime during the night to keep her feet warm.
Corey drank in the lithe body, now coated with Zane’s dried cum. Jesus Christ. Not one surface had been spared. Her face, tits, and pussy had all taken a load. Had to have been a cup or more. For a split second, he considered peeing on her to wash away the sticky glaze but decided against it. Open house was next weekend, after all.
Instead, he removed his tighty-whiteys and kicked them off, taking his geriatric dick into one hand and fingering hairy, pokey nipples with the other.
“Fucking slut,” Corey murmured as he stroked. “Goddamn whore.”
Faster he fiddled, hoping to eke out one more nut to completely deplete his aging balls. He imagined Zane on top and behind her, spearing that shaved pussy relentlessly until they both came, collapsing in the very spot where Corey laid his head most nights. Indeed, in the ever-brightening room, the natural light highlighted several dull patches on the sheets where the fibers had been sullied.
Fap, fap, fap.
Several minutes passed as the patriarch of the Miller family stood over his wife, jerking off, eyes closed with all sorts of imaginings going through his head. He was so lost in those mental images and mutterings that he didn’t notice Lauren beginning to stir, awakened by warm covers replaced by cool ambient air. When Corey opened his eyes again, he was surprised to see her sitting upright against the headboard, legs crossed, yawning.
“Well, good morning.”
Caught off guard, he stopped in mid-stroke, frozen by her voice.
“I…I…I…” he stammered, caught with his fingers in the proverbial cookie jar.
Lauren looked at him with pity and mirth. She could see both arousal and embarrassment in his eyes.
“Don’t stop because of me. Do you like what you see? His cum all over Moi?”
Bending her knees, she parted her legs with Hollywood flair and framed her flaking pussy with both hands. With a smirk, the sexy minx pulled open her butterfly, exposing its soft, pink bellies.
“Mmmm, Twisty, that’s your best friend’s spunk dripping out of my well fucked cunt. He did me soooo good, babe. All…night…long. Pity you can’t do that anymore.”
Corey blinked.
“Can you?”
Lowering his head, he shook it in shame.
“Here,” Lauren patted the mattress in front of her. “Come masturbate for me.”
With some embarrassment at being caught, he climbed onto the bed, wobbling.
Further spreading her legs, she placed two fingers each into her glistening hole. Peering at him from behind longs, straight black bangs, Lauren implored him to continue.
“Go on, then, baby. Jack it.”
Hesitantly, Cory began to slide his antiquated dick once again through thumb and forefinger, tightening the grip as it passed through a sweaty palm. Lauren smiled at the once he-man construction worker kneeling on the mattress trying to keep his balance, stroking with purpose, his gray-haired weak chest jiggling. Not far below, a semi-hard manhood struggled to regain its glory while old balls battled gravity.
“Does your cock feel good?”
Corey nodded, pursing his lips.
Her middle and ring fingers pulled her labia further apart. “It would feel better in here though, wouldn’t it?”
The golden rays outside were brighter now, streaming in the two windows on either side of the headboard, illuminating the couple’s degeneracy and making Lauren seem she was heaven sent. To the sixty-one-year-old, she was.
“Yes.”
“Look closely, Twisty. That’s where your best friend was just minutes ago. Left yet another deposit before leaving.”
He did, and just below the new tattoo of a small red fox with its fluffy tail wrapped around most of its body, was a small amount of dried cum. It appeared to have ran and stuck to her taint.
Fap, fap, fap.
“But you knew that, didn’t you. Did you hear us last night? I was extra loud, just for you.”
Corey nodded again. Of course, he’d heard, how could he not? Fuck me like your bitch came to mind.
“He made me cum. Over and over and over,” Lauren mouthed softly, looking mercifully at her husband’s much smaller dick. “Well, at least someone can.” Her husband’s scruffy early morning jowls formed a wrinkled O-face.
“Shit…”
Ooh, he liked that. Giggling, she slid further down the headboard, splaying her knees ever wider, giving him a good view of her pink meat.
“Wanna know a secret?” she asked singingly. “Zane told me he’d lusted after me for all these years. He spent three decades looking over your shoulder, wondering how I was in bed. Wondering if I sucked your cock at night. Wondering if I swallowed, and how it would be to fuck my little asshole.”
Unsteady now, Corey shifted weight from knee to knee to relieve the arthritic pain that was beginning to set in. “I can’t believe I never noticed.” There had been signs of course, as recently as the mechanic’s admission at Thanksgiving. Who wouldn’t tap that if given a chance?
Lauren stuck out her tongue with plenty of mockery. “Wanna know what’s hotter?”
Corey grimaced, barely able to speak as she pulled apart her anus. The sight of her gaping brown asshole just below that beautiful, shaved pussy nearly made him cum.
“He’s not wondering anymore.”
With much delight and sense of satisfaction, Lauren watched as her husband retched, then trembled uncontrollably, like with fever. Short unintelligible words came from his mouth, stuttering, like he was incapable of finishing a sentence.
“You want to fuck your whore wife, don’t you babe?
His face reminded her of one of those zombie movies, where the afflicted’s eyes rolled back in their heads and foam formed at the corners of their mouth.
Corey looked hopeful and took two-knee steps towards her.
“Then you’ll have to do it in your mind,” Lauren cooed, snapping her legs shut. “Rules, remember?”
Corey groaned loudly. “No, c’mon.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll help you. Close your eyes and feel that little dick slip in my freshly fucked cunt.”
“I don’t see why I can’t…”
“DO IT!”
Clearly confused and agitated, but also extremely aroused, Corey yielded, closing his eyes.
“Go now. Go where so many of your friends have gone.”
“They have?” he gasped.
“Not all of them, silly. Just the ones who laugh behind your back.”
“No…”
“Oh yes. They know the cuck you really are. Most have taken their shot, too Twisty.” That was a lie, but he had no way of knowing and she knew it would push his buttons.
“Nuhgggggggnn-ahh.”
“Remember what it’s like to take be in my pussy, baby? To feel it close around your cock, all warm and cozy?”
“Mmmm.”
“Feel it slip deeper, drawing you in?”
“Yesssss.”
“That’s it, pretend your callous hand is my nasty cunt. Think of where its been.”
For second time in the last few hours, Corey found himself kneeling on a bed, jacking off. Only this time it wasn’t to a picture of his wife and daughter. Lauren fingered herself while watching his fat, anile body squiggling like jelly while sliding his erection through both hands, pretending it was the pussy that was right in front of him, rather than pouncing on her and taking it like a man. Instead, he continued to masturbate, eyes closed, face contorted into a most perverted O-face.
“Feel my arms around you, scratching your back as you pound me.”
One hand moved to his sensitive nipples while the other kept stroking.
“Hmmm. What’s in there, sweetie? So hot and gooey and slick?”
The O-face became more defined. Corey’s torso began teetering, his sagging pecs jiggling.
“Ohhhhh, is that Zane’s spunk? Is it coating your dick, Twisty? Is that your best friend’s cum your cock is swimming in?”
“OH GOD LAUREN!”
It was amusing in a sadistic sort of way to see the poor man thrusting his hips into the air with nothing to fuck but his hand.
Fap, fap, fap.
“Looks like you were a day late and a dollar short, cucky.”
“FUUUUCCCKKKK!”
“That’s it, faster, stroke it faster. Dump your load on me.”
Corey could feel his release building and opened his eyes. “Please let me make love to you.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“What? Why?”
Lauren sucked her lower lip into her mouth. “To tell the truth, after your buddy Zane, I’m not sure I’d even feel it.”
“OH YOU FILTHY FUCKING SLUT!”
With a caterwaul that resembled the death of animal deep in a forest, Corey came hard, his scorned penis heaving and erupting with the last vestiges of semen that his tired testes could spawn. Grunting repeatedly, the small amount that did spurt onto the sheets pooled in front of him. Doubling over, his pudgy belly protruding well beyond a thick waist, he eventually fell to his elbows, wheezing.
“Nice finish,” Lauren offered, gathering him in her arms after he collapsed beside her. “Better than a sock, huh?”
Corey just sighed, holding her tight, throwing a leg over hers as if he was trying to climb inside her very soul. “Not as good as the real thing, though.”
Lauren giggled again, showering his cheeks and hair with kisses until he caught his breath. Then, with a long one to his forehead…
“We need to talk.”
+++++
As his dick began to once again turtle, the weary husband turned on his side.
“Okay.”
“Are you really good with how we are? What we’re doing?”
Corey shrugged. “Seens to me you’re doing all the work.”
“You know what I mean. Like last night.”
“You mean getting locked out of my own bedroom…in my own house…and having to listen to my wife get fucked by my best friend?”
“See?” Lauren punched a flabby bicep. “You never say anything, but then make smart ass comments later. If it’s too much we can…”
“Stop? Like you would if I ask?”
Lauren chewed on that but did not answer.
“I thought so,” Corey frowned. The silence wasn’t surprising.
Finally, she nodded her head. “Yes. But we’d never be the same.”
Corey raised his chin and rested it on her chest. “Agreed.”
“Wait, that was my question and you twisted it. Now its your turn.”
“I haven’t used the word, have I?”
“No, you haven’t.
“But you sure send conflicting messages. On one hand, you act like I’m sticking a knife in your back, but then on the other, the next thing I know you’re making a mess.”
Both of them looked at the newly formed puddle in the middle of the bed.
“I know, I’m sorry. It’s a love-hate thing. I can’t explain it. It’s like…,” Corey shut his eyes, trying to think of a good analogy. “It’s like popping a good-sized zit, you know? You prod, you poke, you cajole. Painful and exhilarating, all at the same time. Then you grab it between your thumb and finger and squeeze. Easy at first, cuz it hurts. Then gradually harder, anticipating…until it breeches, the release overwhelmingly satisfying even though you know you’ve just cratered your face.”
Lauren cocked an eyebrow. “That’s how it feels? Pressure?”
Rolling onto his back, Corey put one hand behind his head and nodded in acknowledgment.
“Yeah. All those emotions, built over time, need relief. Every second that goes by is painfully exquisite, relishing the mounting pressure that’s forged by little things. Seeing men ogle you, flirt with you. Thinking of you alone, a thousand miles away, knowing you are hunting and being hunted. It can all be solved by thirty seconds in the bathroom, but it’s more fun to let the tension evolve. Then a trigger comes along to provide that valve. It can be a wet dream or…”
“A real one?”
“Yeah. Like last night.”
Stroking his hair, Lauren kissed his nose. “You are quite the enigma, Mr. Miller.”
Corey sighed heavily. “A broken one. I guess most guys like me are in some way.”
Gently jostling his head, she disagreed.
“That’s bullshit. You’re just wired differently. The circuitry simply took a while to come together. You’ve been getting off on guys eyeing me for years, although you kept that a secret. Now, we’ve taken it to the next level. There are no more secrets.”
Well, not many anyway, she tightened her lower jaw.
“So…how many more levels are there?” He thought back to her selling herself, well aware he wasn’t the only one of them with kinks.
Rolling onto her side to spoon, Lauren ran fingers through his hair.
“It doesn’t matter, we’ll climb them together, okay? You know, I don’t often say it, but you deserve a lot of credit for helping me see sex in a different light. It’s a gift to share, to enjoy.”
Corey snuggled against the contour of her back, the head of his now flaccid cock retreating into its hood at the coldness of her flesh.
“And thank you for not thinking I’m broken.”
+++++
February 12. Ten days to go.
‘Your destination is on the right.’
Charlie Weber checked the GPS address and slowed his yellow Kia Soul in front of an unassuming one-story house. It didn’t look like much. Clay tiled roof. A few palm trees, shrubs, and a brick horseshoe driveway. Typical for homes in the wealthy Miami neighborhood of Coral Gables. While the front was relatively austere, the inside and rear of the property would be where the real money was, many of them backing up to one of the city’s canals.
Steering his small car onto the stone path and shutting off the engine, the young man hesitated before getting out. While he had dropped Chloe Ceallaigh off plenty of times at hotels and tricks’ homes, this particular trip made him feel like he was leading the lamb to slaughter. Before he could come around to help remove her wardrobe trunk, she had it halfway out the backseat, landing on the driveway with a thud.
“Jeez, Chloe, how many outfits do you need in one day?” he asked, righting the hard-shell Samsonite and following her to the front door.
“Talent has to bring their own wardrobe, you know that.”
“I thought you said the screenplay was mostly pool related?”
“It is, but one must be prepared.”
Charlie shook his head. It seemed ironic so much clothing was needed for a scene that would ultimately contain none. Nor was he thrilled about his roommate’s decision to be in yet another adult film. Sometimes it seemed her goal of retiring from the sex industry by the age of thirty was just too aggressive. After pressing the doorbell, the pair stood in silence and waited until a buxom middle-aged blonde opened the door. Dressed in denim shorts and a black concert tee, sporting pink eyeglasses, her attractive yet well-worn features indicated that she at one time may have been on the other side of the camera.
“Yes?”
“Chloe Ceallaigh to see Mr. Hammond. I’m scheduled to work with Jason Aldridge today.”
The woman gave both a once over. She was definitely going to need to check the ages for these two. With some hesitation, the blonde made way for them to enter.
“They’re out by the pool,” she said flatly. “I’m Patti. Come back and see me before you do anything but talk, ya hear? You need to sign your life away.”
A look of concern crossed Charlie’s face.
“She’s joking,” Chloe rolled her eyes, pulling him onto the patio.
Glancing back over his shoulder, he wasn’t so sure. Patti shot him an amused look.
Outside, the veranda opened to a large backyard surrounded by a tall privacy fence. Milling about were five or six crew members.
“Chloe!”
A man not much older than Charlie waved and called her over. He was standing next to a couple amicable looking gentlemen in their mid-forties. ”
“Hi Jason!”
“Hi babe. You’re early.”
“You said there would be a lot of paperwork.”
“Oh, there is. Chloe, this is Georgie Hammond, our awesome, creative director. And this is Ambrose Friar, your, uh, husband for the day. Guys, Chloe Ceallaigh.”
The dancer exchanged pleasantries with the two older men. Jason was fire as always, dressed in tight midnight blue swim trunks that highlighted his large package quite nicely. Everything about him screamed sex, from large square shoulders and rippling muscles to a tight six-pack. The producer-director was nice enough too, sporting typical Miami hipster garb but speaking with a New Jersey accent. Ambrose simply smiled and looked on, knowing his place as second fiddle. In an industry where youth was king, his age had relegated the one-time star to character roles such as this.
“You done work for Bartholin House before?” Georgie asked the well-endowed redhead.
“Um, no. Actually, I haven’t done many videos. Only a few. Last one was with Impure Films I believe,” she replied, looking nervous.
“Great, a novice,” Hammond harrumphed. “Still, fresh faces are always a plus. Nice hair. Great tits. You’ll do fine. You read the script? You know what we’re shooting today?”
“A sequel to Mary Poppins?” the redhead quipped, grinning.
The director looked at Jason with a grin.
“Hitchcock wasn’t wrong.”
Jason just shrugged.
Then the director noticed Charlie.
“Who are you?”
A pregnant pause crept over the conversation before Chloe piped up.
“My agent.”
The color drained from her roommate’s face. What?
The redhead bit her lip. Why the hell did I say that?
Hammond shot him a look of doubt. Mighty young to be an agent. And yet, everyone looked young to him these days.
“Good, cuz having husbands or friends around a set is nothin’ but trouble.” Then to Charlie, “Don’t get in the way, capeesh?”
Chloe clenched her teeth and scolded herself for fibbing. Why didn’t she just introduce him as a pal or even her driver? Either would have gotten him escorted out, which any other time she would have preferred. So why lie now? Did she want him to stay and watch her…fuck?
“Alright, let’s run this down, then you go find Patti, sign papers, and go to makeup.
“We’re doing a series of shorts about cucks. It’ll be one of several, but this is the only one you three will be appearing in. Terms will be in the contract, and we don’t shoot shit until you sign. This episode follows the characters of Millie and Fred, a really hot wife who we will infer doesn’t get much at home. They just hosted a pool party and hubby’s much younger boss is the last one to leave. But not by accident. He’s been flirting with wifey the entire time and the viewer will see the sparks fly between them. Hubby notices it too but does nothing about it. It’s his boss, right? What can he do?
“As the other guests clear out, he sees his chance by helping clean up. What host doesn’t want that? Dialogue begins once they get to the bedroom after Millie spills wine on Jax. We’ll start with a blowjob, then cunnilingus, missionary, doggy and reverse cowgirl. It all ends with anal. Wife and boss humiliate poor Fred throughout, so make sure you know your lines.”
The director looked at Chloe. “You tested?”
She nodded. “About a week ago.”
“Flushed out? Do you need an enema? Patti can help with that.”
“No, I did this morning.”
“Then what are you waiting for? Go!”
After hearing that kind of exchange, Charlie debated leaving altogether. He was used to seeing his friend take her clothes off and disappear into the VIP rooms at the club, but this was on a whole other level. Knowing someone was having sex and seeing them do it were two different things entirely, and he wasn’t quite sure he could handle it. Lately, his feelings for her had grown immensely. Well beyond friendship, and while he knew she didn’t feel the same, it didn’t change how he felt. At the same time, she hadn’t asked him to leave, either.
With a sigh, the mop-haired kid took a seat out of the way, behind where technicians were setting up lighting. She must have had good reason for him to hang around, enough to lie. Maybe she was just afraid. Or perhaps she just wanted to know he was near. Either way, Charlie had always been there, and he wasn’t going to quit her now.
+++++
Inside the palatial residence, Chloe signed all legal papers Patti put in front of her. While looking them over, the older woman stole glances at the girl as the makeup artist did her thing.
“Autumn Breeze, huh? Nice stage name.”
“Thanks.”
“You’ve done porn?”
“Only a few scenes. All with Jason. You?”
Patti smiled. “A few. Hundred.”
“But not now?”
“Oh, I help Georgie out when he needs a MILF or mom. But mostly I keep my clothes on these days.”
“I see. Now I’ll have to do some searches, just to see you naked. You’re absolutely beautiful.”
That was so Chloe, always the flirt, making people feel good about themselves.
“And so are you.”
The two women felt sparks fly while the makeup girl carried on primping and painting. She’d seen it all before. But as much as Chloe liked the touch of a female, she enjoyed cock more, which brought her thoughts back to the fair-skinned boy waiting for her poolside.
Agent? I called him my agent. What was I thinking?
Did she really want him there? After all, there was still time to ask him to leave. And he’d probably go without protest. But why had she enabled this in the first place? It wasn’t out of fear. Being an escort, she’d been alone with men plenty. Plus, Jason was there, and for the most part, Bartholin House was a reputable production company.
So why? Did she actually want him to see her have sex? Maybe for some strange, unresolved voyeuristic reason? What would be the purpose? Jealousy? Titillation? He’d seen her in the buff plenty of times, so nudity wouldn’t be a big deal. Seeing her do the nasty would be new to him, hopefully. The shorts she’d done previously had limited distribution and were never on the internet, so it was unlikely he’d ever seen them. To have him see her fucking – even if it was mostly acting – would also be opening a door on a threshold not yet crossed. For years Chloe had kept her feelings at bay and sex out of their relationship. That was intentional, of course, to save the poor boy from a lot of heartache.
So, the question remained. Why now?
+++++
The afternoon sun was not warming Amelia’s old bedroom much as Lauren worked through her oldest daughter’s closet, clothing piling up with items for charity. It was always tough to give away outfits that had been barely worn, but there was no sense in tossing them in the garbage. Someone would be happy to have warm, gently used sweaters. While contemplating whether to keep an old Cyclones sweatshirt, her phone rang.
“Lauren?”
“Yes,” she answered cautiously. The male voice sounded familiar.
“It’s Myles. Myles Kanzanka.”
A broad smile crossed the brunette’s face. “Oh wow, hi Myles.”
“You sound surprised.”
Lauren dropped the Iowa State swag into the charity pile. “Well, it’s not every day a billionaire calls me.”
“You know I’m just a regular guy.”
“Sure, that hundred-million-dollar yacht screams normal.”
Kanzanka laughed. “You got me there. Listen, interestingly enough, that’s why I’m calling. I’m hosting another cruise next weekend. I was wondering if you and your husband, um…”
“Corey.”
“Yeah, Corey. Was wondering if you two would like to join us.”
A moment of silence followed. An earlier invite months ago had been Max’s idea as part of a plot to finally give Corey what he’d been pestering her for. This, on the other hand, was a direct invitation from the owner himself.
“I’m flattered, but why us?”
“Why not you? You’re a fun, energetic, liberal minded couple. You know that my parties can get a little risqué, and yet you don’t judge. Precisely the people I need to go out on the dinghy with us.”
She had to admit, the wealthy man was a pretty nice guy and had a way of putting people at ease.
“I’d love to, but I’m afraid my husband won’t be in Miami. He’s got a couple more weeks in Des Moines.”
“Ah, that’s too bad. Decent chap. Didn’t get in the way.”
You mean he didn’t mind his wife getting laid.
“Well, that settles it then, you’ll fly solo. Max will probably be there if he can get away. You guys can catch up.”
Another fifteen seconds of dead air before Lauren drew her next breath.
“Okay, sure, I’m in.”
“That’s great. I’ll send details to this number. As always, come as you are but bring a swimsuit. I liked the gold one, by the way.”
“You remember, Mr. Kanzanka, I’m flattered.”
There was a laugh at the other end of the phone before it went dead.
“You are hard one to forget, Miss Lauren.”
+++++
“Let’s go folks,” Georgie clapped his hands. “We’ve already got b-roll, now let’s get some establishing shots and promos.”
Charlie looked up from his phone as Chloe and Jason, er…Millie and Jax…walked onto the patio from the house through a sliding glass door. It had been about forty minutes since they’d disappeared into makeup and the results were stunning. Shiny skin, typical even for tanned bodies in the scorching Florida sun, was now gone, replaced by a deep, even primer, set by powder that gave their pores an even glow for 4K filming. Dressed only in a skimpy green bikini, the dancer’s face was smooth and radiant, heavy on the mascara to give her a decidedly slutty appearance. Jason’s face had a more natural look now, with obvious hotspots toned down. The swim trunks he wore looked more like men’s underwear than anything else and showed off his manhood well. For his part as the cuck, Ambrose was void of all makeup, allowing for a pale, pasty, unhealthy look, all by design, of course.
Such stereotypes, Charlie mused. Just like Hollywood, porn is complete bullshit too.
As if to make his point, Hammond ran the actors through several scenes that would ultimately establish the short.
– The wife and boss innocently talking.
– The boss helping her clean up after the party. They filmed a shot of them both doing dishes at the sink while they watched through a window, laughing amorously while hubby straightened up the pool deck.
– A clumsy wife spilling remnants from a wine glass on Jax’s trunks.
After that, it was the photographer’s turn. As Charlie looked on, a chubby guy named Wayne guided Chloe, Jason, and Ambrose through a series of stills which would be used to promote the fine film.
– Millie the Wife and Jax, the husband’s young, handsome boss tossing back and forth a large red and white beach ball, smiling and chatting innocuously as Fred sits in the background enjoying a fruity cocktail.
– Millie and Jax in the pool, splashing and flirting as the husband looks on, unconcerned.
– Several scenes where the boss rubs suntan lotion on his employee’s wife’s back, and she his, while staring at his impressive crotch. Then…sans trunks.
Christ, no wonder he does adult films.
“Okay, Millie,” Wayne instructed, using the stage name to help her stay in character, “Millie licks the tip, holds, then turns this way.”
Chloe did so obediently, lips closing around the big cock’s head, eyes looking at the camera. This went on for several minutes as the photographer put them through the paces.
“Deep throat and hold.”
“Ball fondle and hold.”
“Kiss, stroke…and hold.”
“Condescending grins from both wife and boss towards husband.”
“Hubby, arms up with questioning expression.”
Charlie had to admit, even though he was watching a live action blowjob, had it been anyone but Chloe, the whole moment would have been anything but erotic. Yet, although she was relatively inexperienced at filming – her body language was hesitant, and directions had to be repeated – she was the consummate professional throughout. As everyone began to perspire under the mid-day sun, he could see the nerves in her eyes. Occasionally, she’d glance his way, just for a split second, then go back to the task at hand. Just making sure I’m here, he guessed, suppressing the urge to whisk her away. Watching her devour a penis within yards was one of the toughest things he ever had to do.
A quick break for dabs of makeup and water, then the shoot resumed. This time Jason was laying back on a chaise lounge with Chloe going down on him, topless, pendulous breasts swaying.
“Slurp and hold.”
“Deep now, then slowly back up. Look at your husband.”
Although patently contrived, Charlie found himself adjusting his shorts to hide an embarrassing erection. The girl he’d sat on the couch with just last night watching sitcoms was now fellating a perfect male specimen. A scene the young man had often jacked off to, although in those fantasies, he himself had been the recipient of that pleasurable activity.
And so it went, pose after pose. Chloe eventually lost her bottoms and straddled the ripped Adonis while silently mocking her fake husband. Ambrose in turn hovered over the two, acting like he was losing his mind. It was all well scripted with Wayne moving them through each sequence. Between takes, the actors cut up and joked with each other like old friends. It was all so sterile, and if the female lead hadn’t been Charlie’s secret crush, he doubted that he’d be sprouting the hard-on he was desperately trying to hide. A few times Patti even nudged the director, pointing at the pubescent ‘agent’, noting how the color had drained completely from the young man’s face.
“You okay over there?” Hammond asked, grinning, to which Charlie simply nodded.
“Get him some water. We don’t need the fuckin’ medics here today.”
Fifteen minutes later, Wayne indicated he had what was needed, but not before Georgie caught Jason trying to inconspicuously slip into his co-star. To Charlie’s chagrin, the chemistry between the two was clear, and left to their own devices, they would have surely had sex, cameras or no cameras. And the crew chief knew it.
“Knock that shit off,” he barked. The director wasn’t above using fake cum, but he preferred real money-shots whenever possible. Best to save it for the live action.
While the crew moved lighting and sound equipment to the bedroom, the others gathered around a kitchen island, making small talk and snacking on fruit. Charlie and Chloe learned that the set was really a vacation home for a big shot Hollywood movie producer who had vested interest in Bartholin House’s success. Whenever the stress in LA got too much, he’d jet to Miami and use his sailboat, conveniently moored at a dock in the canal out back.
“Sometimes even in the company of a Bartholin starlet or two,” Wayne winked.
+++++
“Alright, alright, look alive, we’re losing light,” Georgie came breezing through the kitchen, motioning everyone into the master bedroom. Charlie slowly climbed carpeted steps to a loft with a railing overlooking the entire area. The platform was void of furniture but appeared to be meant for a home office.
“Okay, so, here’s the deal,” Hammond explained. “They’ll be a voice over in post from the wifey’s perspective explaining how well the pool party with friends and neighbors went. Now its winding down and the only one left is Fred’s boss, Jax. He is SO helpful in cleaning up, and a real nice guy. Kind of cute too. We’ve already been through the lead-in, now this is where the rubber meets the road. You all remember your lines?”
The three actors nodded.
“Good, let’s do it.”
After the crew took some meter readings and makeup hit some hot spots, the director called for quiet and filming began.
“I’m sooooo sorry for spilling that drink on you,” a smiling bikini-clad ‘Millie’ led her husband’s boss into the bedroom. “Here, let’s see if one of Fred’s shorts will fit you.”
After grabbing a pair of swim trunks from the dresser, Millie held them up to Jax’s waist and giggled.
“Nope, these won’t do.”
With hands on her hips, she suggested the only solution would be to launder them.
“Nothing else to wear,” Jax announced slyly, clasping his hands together in defeat. “I wore these over here.”
“No problem,” Millie replied, handing him a pair of ‘Fred’s’ underwear, then turned to look away, like any modest, good girl would do. “Put these on, I won’t look.”
In the loft above, despite mixed emotions, Charlie had to chuckle. As good a stripper, escort, and many a men’s unofficial therapist Chloe may be, she was terrible at acting.
“Cue Fred,” Georgie pointed to the veranda. A second later, Ambrose appeared outside a sliding door that led from the bedroom to the patio, wide eyed, nose to the glass.
With the good wife averting her eyes, Jax slid off his trunks, once again displaying the weapon of mass destruction he was famous for. Fred’s eyes got even bigger. Seconds later the younger man donned the wimpy husband’s briefs only to find they were ridiculously too small for his package. The tip of the cock even protruded from the elastic waistband while his shaved nut sack hung out of the leg holes. Assuming he was now decent, Millie turned around only to cover her face in mock surprise when she saw the alluring bulge.
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed dramatically, her fingers slowly parting to sneak a peek.
“They’re a little tight,” Jax observed, “I may need some help taking them off.”
Millie approached her husband’s boss seductively. “Of course, and we better hurry before it restricts too much blood, and you have to see a doctor.”
Charlie shook his head as he watched his friend kneel and slowly peel down the white undies. Who the hell writes this stuff?
From the depths of the woefully small shorts sprung the massive tool. Then things got real.
“Suck it,” Georgie directed Chloe. “But no release, Jason. Save it for the money shot.”
Outside looking in, Ambrose’s character was beside himself, cheek scrunched against the slider, fists pounding in the door. “What are you doing, honey?” his muffled words could barely be heard inside.
“Hmm, oh this is nice,” Millie professed profusely, ministering to the large cock like she had for the stills, only this time more intense and over-the-top. Soon she was taking most of it down her throat and Jax was squirming with closed eyes.
“Fuh-uh-KAH!”
For Charlie, the stew of emotions was just beginning to stir. So, this is how she looks after disappearing behind closed doors; what her regulars at Randy Sandy’s were paying top dollar for.
Apparently worth every penny, he thought sarcastically. The club runner wasn’t naïve, knowing exactly what happened in the VIP lounges. But it didn’t make it any less painful to watch.
Less scripted than the promos, Hammond was letting them go, improvising, doing what porn stars do best. Chloe continued to appear nervous, what with all the lights and cameramen, but she soldiered on, bolstered by Jason’s constant coaching.
‘Long dives, big licks, lots of tongue.’
‘That’s it girl. Look at me, eye contact, move your hair, let them see.’
This went on for a while. Occasionally, Georgie stopped the action and repositioned the actors to get a different camera angle. Between takes, Chloe would wipe away perspiration and Jason stroked himself to keep hard. For the man in the loft, however, keeping an erection was anything but difficult. During those times when all eyes were on the performers, Charlie did his own fiddling through what were now extra tight shorts. While it was just another day at the office for most there, it was anything but for him.
When Hammond believed he had the blowjob in the can, they brought Fred in, who proceeded to go off on his beautiful wife as she administered a hand-job to his more virile boss.
‘Honey, what are you doing? Millie, he’s my boss for God’s sake!’
‘Mmmm, he can boss me around any day.’
To the casual observer, it seemed like forever to get through the ‘hubby walks in’ dialogue. At one point Ambrose tripped over an electrical cord forcing a retake. Minutes later one of the crew had a coughing fit which they had to let play out. Eventually, Georgie had the three actors take to the bed while Chloe once again slipped off her bikini top. ‘Fred’ looked on as the cameras rolled, while Jax played with her tits and told his employee what a lucky guy he was.
“Lucky?” Fred bemoaned aloud, “My wife has another man’s penis in her hands! Oh no!”
Groping, fondling, massaging, and stroking, Jax and Millie got down to business, exploring the characters as they explored themselves. Through it all, none of it hit Charlie as hard as when they first kissed. It wasn’t a ‘I’m getting paid to do this’ kiss. It was genuinely passionate; a firework inducing lip lock, hinting that it wasn’t just acting between two thespians. He swallowed hard as the two embraced, tongues dancing.
Didn’t seem fair, the young Weber lamented. No one knew Chloe as well as he. Her history, her likes, her dislikes.
Her fantasies.
Only him. And yet, here he was once again on the outside looking in, doing nothing while a buff arrogant prick was about ready to fuck his friend.
His girl…
His soulmate.
Despite this, Charlie’s dick grew even harder.
+++++
“Have a snack, Jax,” the director urged his male star.
With little hesitation, Jax pushed Millie back on the mattress and snatched her bottoms straight off.
Fred the Cuckold Hubby was really starting to get concerned. “OH MY GOD, Mr. Johnson, what are you doing. Please don’t!”
“Don’t you have a report to get out, Freddie?” Jax scowled at the older man as the bold boss-turned-bull dove into the busty wife’s pussy, sucking her lips, tongue darting inside.
Millie moaned. “Yeah, go do your report, baby. Mr. Johnson is taking good care of me.”
“Millie, PLEASE!”
“Oh, I’m sure he will please me, sweetie. Unlike your pathetic cock.”
“Noooooo!”
The script was corny and predictable, but the action was hot and palpable, with Chloe moaning, fingers running through her costar’s hair. Jax licked and slurped the entire length of her crimson-hair lined clam, stopping just before her clit, then repeating. After teasing his coworker for several minutes, he moved to her buttery bean, cajoling, probing, biting and lapping.
Moments later, without any direction from the crew, Chloe opened her mouth and howled, for her very first orgasm on screen that day. Above the fray in the loft, Charlie began to smell the heavy aroma of sex.
“On top, Jax,” Georgie directed.
Wasting no time, Jax pulled Millie down on the bed and lined her up, aiming that iconic unsheathed cock at her rosy, landing strip lined slit.
“Nooooo!” Fred hollered again.
“Fuck me, Mr. Johnson. Fuck me like my wimp of a husband can’t!”
Charlie winced as Jax eased his tool in her moist cunt, then pulled back, only to repeat, slowly pushing every blessed inch into his friend. Millie squealed with delight.
It was all pure carnal debasement from there…
+++++
The mid-February sun was just beginning to settle behind a row of oak trees that lined the back of the Miller property. Being Monday, Corey was back at work while Lauren made good use of her last two days in Iowa, cleaning out Amelia’s old bedroom and packing up knickknacks throughout the home. The realtor had asked that all traces of personal items be removed from shelves and walls for open house. Something about allowing a potential buyer to ‘see themselves’ in the residence, not the sellers.
When she got to the hall closet, Lauren cracked a smile. On the floor, right next to Corey’s bowling ball, was Zane’s award.
Top Mechanic of the Year – Zane Presado.
The one he was given in Bakersfield. The one that she masturbated with while her husband looked on.
Here it had sat since that night in the tub with Corey. Lauren’s grin got wider.
Maybe it’s time to return it.
+++++
“Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yessssss!”
Millie clutched her roleplaying lover’s back as the bona fide porn star settled into a cathartic rhythm. Chloe was trying to get into it, she really was. Not only to earn her pay, but to make Jason glad he picked her as the understudy. And yet, the petite redhead was having difficulty staying in character. Maybe it was the cameras…or the crew…or the lights. Or perhaps it was the knowledge that her best friend in the whole wide world was watching the dancer at her most vulgar.
From above, Charlie could sense she wasn’t as engaged as she could be. So did Georgie Hammond.
“Hold up, hold up,” the director stopped the filming. “Millie, eh, I mean Chloe…what’s going on? Talk to me.”
Jason stopped his long strides and paused, dick still inside her slick gash. Chloe turned her head toward the older man and frowned.
“I’m sorry, I’ll do better.”
“Lines, okay? You have lines. You’re fucking your husband’s boss and supposed to be rubbing his nose in it.”
“Right. Sorry.”
“You seem distracted. Would you like me to clear the room?”
The stripper looked around at the crew of five. Most of them seemed bored, if not antsy. They’d seen it all before. Then she glanced upward and saw Charlie in the loft.
“No. I got this,” Chloe muttered, never taking her eyes off her friend.
Why was she feeling so sick to her stomach and yet so turned on?
+++++
It was nearly five o’clock when Lauren heard the garage door open and Corey’s truck sputter to a stop. Irrespective of what had happened the last few days, the pensive project manager was upbeat when he came through the kitchen door and set his lunch pail on the island. With Lauren leaving to go back to Miami in two days, he was determined to make the best of it.
Grabbing one of her favorite flavors of seltzer along with an IPA, Corey called out to his wife of twenty-eight years.
“Up here,” came the barely audible response from the second floor.
Whistling happily as he ascended the stairs, the bullish husband entered the master bedroom with a grin on his face. The melody ended with a slow, drawn-out catcall when Corey saw his wife sitting at the vanity applying makeup. Very sexy makeup.
“Wow,” he said aloud. Maybe tonight is the night. Even his cock twitched, sensing optimism.
“What?” Lauren smiled, powdering her face.
“Where are we going? I’ll need to change.”
Turning to face him on the small stool, she looked at him with a sympathetic half-frown. “No baby, I’m sorry. Not we.”
Corey opened the seltzer and placed it on the dresser. The lump that seemed to be a permanent fixture in his throat these days returned with a vengeance. “Oh?”
Lauren glanced towards the glass wrench on the dresser. “I thought I’d return Zane’s award before I left.”
“By yourself.”
“Yes.”
Corey nodded, letting that sink in. With only two nights left with her, she wanted to spend one of them with someone else. And not just anyone. Right. Got it.
“I could have returned it for you.”
“Oh, I don’t mind,” she smirked, standing up and walking to her closet. She was a marvel of middle-age, attributable to her near daily workouts. Her forty-nine-year-old pert b-cups still held their shape, although laying a bit flatter these days.
“Will you be back in time for dinner?”
Stroking the ends of her hair as she considered potential outfits, she snickered softly. “I hope not.”
“Then when?”
“Well, I wouldn’t wait up.”
With much disappointment, Corey stumbled shakily to the bed and sat down, the lump growing ever larger until it began to block his throat.
Indecision about what to wear on her face, Lauren blew long bangs away from her eyes. “Can you help me find something? Something sexy.”
“You want me to help find you something sexy to return an award?”
Lauren’s eyes narrowed. “There, see? You’re doing it again. You want me to date, but then you get pissed when I do. That has to change.”
She was right of course. She’s always right. Corey drew a deep breath and sat up straighter on the mattress. The one in which no more than twelve hours ago she and his best friend had been sleeping. Steeling himself against the stew of emotions that was coursing through his very being, he agreed.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. You…you really like him, don’t you?”
Still toying with the ends of her jet-black tresses, trying to get them to lay right, Lauren turned back to the closet and held up a turquoise dress to her naked form. “Of course. I’ve known him almost as long as you. He’s our friend.”
“Apparently a better friend to you.”
Their gazes met in the full-length mirror.
“Maybe you should try sucking his dick sometime,” she replied dryly, the innuendo dripping with sarcasm.
Corey shook his head at the dress, causing her to put it back.
“I’m not like that.”
“I know.” Lauren pulled out a few more outfits. “Just sayin’. He seems to respond favorably to a good blowjob.”
Holding up a pair of corduroys and a silk blouse, the goatish brunette looked to him with raised brow. “This?”
Sighing again with resignation, Corey shook his head and went through her clothes. Most of the real scorchers were already in Florida. “I thought you said sexy? Here, how ’bout this?” he posited, pulling out a black jumpsuit. “Zane likes chicks in these.”
Lauren looked at her husband with surprise. He was actually playing ball. “And how would you know?”, she asked, stepping into the tight polyester Spandex material.
“We, um…talk. When we are out.”
“You mean leer.”
“We are guys.”
Corey couldn’t believe he was picking out a hot effort for his even hotter wife to wear for a buddy. As Lauren pulled the one-piece up over her hips and satin briefs, he stopped her. “No lines.”
With a knowing smile, she pulled the panties off and tossed them aside. “Good point.”
This time, the outfit went on even slower as Lauren made a show of it, spinning as she gradually pulled it up over the ~ EZ ~ tattoo just above her ass crack. Once in place, the gamesome imp twirled around the bedroom, giving Corey a boner inducing runway show. Backless, the jumpsuit featured a V-neck sleeveless bodice, with wide straps that crossed over the open shoulders. The plunging neckline went nearly to her navel, the material barely covering her mosquito bites of breasts. For the next fifteen minutes, he helped her accessorize. Large gold hoop earrings, a couple matching wrist bangles. Suede, open-toed ankle-strap heels. By the time they were done, it took Corey’s breath away.
“You look beautiful.”
“Why thank you.”
Biting his lip, Corey watched as she stood in front of a full-length mirror, adjusting everything so it was just right. He had literally gotten his wife ready for a date. With his best friend.
Lauren sauntered over to her dresser and selected a soft gray cardigan, feeling the hole being burned in her back.
“Okay, what is it, then?” she asked, wheeling around suddenly.
A startled Corey quickly looked at his feet, shifting from one to the other.
“Come on, spit it out.”
“I’d like to watch.”
“Oh, babe…”
“I just want to be close to you.”
Lauren sidled up to his chest and kissed him deeply. “I know. I just don’t think Zane’s comfortable with it yet.”
Yet?
“You mean they’ll be more…dates? In a couple weeks there will be no reason to come back here.”
Cupping his cheeks in her hands, she looked him in the eyes. “We can’t just turn off our friendship with him, can we? Besides…”
With a lick to his nose, she bit the tip gently. “…he fucks me soooo good.”
The emotional mélange that washed over her cuckold’s face was quite evident. Trembling, Corey went into the bathroom and returned with a condom pack. He held it out to her like an olive branch. “Here.”
“Oh, Honey, we don’t need that anymore,” Lauren giggled. “Besides, those are yours. I don’t think Zane would even get one over the tip.”
Pausing at the bedroom door before disappearing into the hallway, the seductress turned back with pouty lips, putting one hand on the doorjamb and kicking a leg out behind her, holding a pose.
“By the way, I washed cum out of your socks. Fresh ones are in the top drawer. You’ll need them.”
The condescending laughter that followed her as she descended the flight of stairs to the first floor echoed throughout the house, stinging Corey’s ears.
+++++
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Georgie asked again.
“Just film,” Chloe replied, composing herself.
“Good. Roll it.”
Jason immediately switched back into Jax the Boss character as he amended their missionary posture and began pumping his still hard rod into her again.
“You like your worthless husband watching me fuck you, don’t you, slut?”
“Oh yes, I love your big, stiff cock up my cunt! So much better than him!”
Fred the Hubby fell to his knees beside the bed. “How can you say that, sweetie?”
Chloe summoned her inner Autumn, channeling the hot, nasty and playful alter ego she’d developed over the years. Grabbing Jason’s shoulders, she intertwined her feet behind his back and met each thrust, matching his pace, until they were both grunting like animals in heat.
“Now that’s fucking,” the sound guy uttered.
“Turn her around,” Hammond ordered.
Jason quickly flipped his costar and grabbed her hips as she planted her knees firmly on the mattress. Without warning, he slammed his impressive cock back into the wide gaping slit. Moaning loudly, Chloe accepted it all, shrieking as it plunged deep, then withdrew, then bottomed out again.
“All of it, all of it! Ooh baby, give me all of that cock. Make me cum like Freddy can’t!”
Georgie nodded, looking around at the rest of the crew. That’s more like it.
Ambrose played his character well too, punching the comforter next to him, sniffling like an idiot. “No, no, no.”
“OH GOD!” Millie screeched.
It sounded real enough, a passing grade for a short porn flick for certain, though only Chloe knew for sure she was faking it. Jason, having been with her before, could tell something was amiss.
“So beautiful, so slutty, SO TIGHT!” he cried out, hoping to get her to continue the passion, but with every passing minute, whatever momentum she’d come out of the gate with this time was diminishing. And yet, together the actors fought through their fabricated performance, with Jason carrying much of the dialogue while railing Chloe from behind.
“Your wife’s the best, Fred! Think of this the next time you and I are sitting in a conference room!”
“But, sir,” Fred responded right on cue, holding his head in his hands, a woeful look on his face. How would he ever face his boss at work again?
“No buts about it. I think I’ll take my lunch breaks over here from now on!”
“No, Mr. Johnson…please no!”
Hammond had never seen the young girl work before, so he didn’t know the red-hot scorching sex she was capable of. As such, there was no reason to stop the scene. True, he’d seen better efforts from the regulars, but the chemistry between these two was good and their bodies exceptional. He was hopeful she’d pick it up some.
Likewise, Charlie had never seen his friend in the throes of passion and didn’t know any different. For him, every twist of her body, every mewl, every contorted facial expression drove him crazy, wishing he could whip his dick out right there and jerk off. But that…that would surely get him thrown out.
“OH, OH, OH, OH!” Chloe moaned below. Unfortunately, from his position in the rafters, the view of her was limited. Facing away, he mostly saw the back and top of Jason’s powerful body as the established porn star knelt behind the less experienced actress. Holding pallid hips tight with contrasting tan and muscular arms, Jason bit his lip and fucked her wet pussy the only way he knew how: hard and fast.
Still, Charlie caught glimpses of his crush’s head, just over the man’s broad shoulders, mussed crimson hair obscuring her cheeks as the full, loose mane rocked back and forth with each plunge.
“M-m-more,” Millie groaned, admirably keeping pace, driving her hips back into his. Despite her reservations, the incessant pounding and knowledge that no less than five men, including her soul mate, were watching her get fucked finally began to raise her temperature. That, combined with a request from Georgie for reverse cowgirl, changed everything.
The pair switched positions quickly, with the young man lying on his back and Chloe straddling those powerful hips, putting her ass to his broad chest, small feet pressed against his elbows. As she poised the pussy above the proud, freestanding cock, she caught a glimpse of someone in the loft above. After finding Jason’s cock with one hand, she looked again, this time locking eyes with Charlie, noting his expression was an odd mixture of pleasure and pain. Their gaze held as she used the other hand to grip Jason’s knee while slowly lowering herself onto the imposing, pulsating shaft. Catching his breath, the youngster watching from above marveled at her wanton beauty, now on full display for him. For the first time, he could see real lust on Chloe face as the wide head penetrated her moist slit, parting the scarlet hair on it’s fleshy lips, disappearing inch by inch. The further she slid down the rigid steel, the more intense the fire in her eyes. Through them, Charlie could almost feel the cock’s girth slicing into her hot canal.
“OHHHHHH FUCKKKKKKKK!” the redhead cried out in ecstasy, never looking away.
With expert precision honed from years of practice, the dancer began to grind her hips into Jason’s, gliding back and forth along his crotch as he squeezed her sides tightly.
“Fuck me,” Millie’s character gasp breathlessly, the script suddenly coming back to the redhead.
“Fuck me like he can’t!
“Give me that big cock!”
Hammond sat back in his chair, pleased that the scene was now escalating as it should. He did notice, however, that the young girl’s attention was held not by the accomplished actors, but by the scrawny kid in the alcove above. This was not lost on Ambrose either, who shot a questioning glance at the director. In turn, Georgie held up a hand to silence any protest. The momentum was too good to spoil.
“OH SHIT, OH GODDAMN!” Chloe cried out in pleasure, her large breasts heaving with every thrust.
Jason doubled down, thrusting his cock up and deep into Chloe’s dripping hole. Charlie watched as the man’s nutsack jostled erotically with every downstroke. Aware that his costar’s attention was fixated on the boy above, Jason capitalized on her developing enthusiasm by banging her unostentatiously, allowing her natural pruriency to come out.
“That’s it, pound my married cunt, Mr. Johnson,” Millie, the unfaithful wife begged, never taking her eyes off Charlie. “Do me, do me hard!
“I want to feel your cum all over me!
“Give me that hot jizz! Faster, faster!”
Chloe smiled to herself as she saw the distressful rapture written on Charlie’s face. He was suffering emoting beatitude and misery, all at the same time.
I enjoying his anguish and torture?
“Fuck my hot little pussy,” she demanded, eyes boring into her friend.
Everyone in the room knew the command wasn’t directed at Jason, but it didn’t matter. The scene was trending towards epic now and no one wanted to stop it. Bouncing up and down, Chloe’s passion grew by the second as she impaled herself on the big cock with glee. The faster she rode, the more vocal she became, all the while probing Charlie’s very soul. His angst seemingly fueled her lust, along with the tent protruding from his shorts.
Oh my God, he’s hard. Hard because of me!
Difficult to comprehend, but her best pal, her confidant, buddies since the orphanage…was getting off over her getting fucked!
The thought was too much to process, too goddamn hot. A low otherworldly moan escaped her trembling, pretty lips, until it grew in volume, rising in pitch as salacity took over.
Hundreds of men had seen her disrobe, many of those using one hole or another for their own gratification.
“Muh-muh-muh-en-ewwwww.”
But being ravaged in front of someone so close was irrepressibly naughty. Almost taboo.
What would he be like as a lover? Does he want to fuck me? Do I want to fuck him?
“OH GAAAAAWWWWWDDDDD!
The first wave of a small orgasm gripped her body, convulsing it in a most lovely, twisted way. Minds melding through their intense gaze, Charlie could almost feel her cum. It was something he so desperately wanted to do himself. Leaning back slightly on Jason’s stomach, Chloe’s outstretched arms placed her hands in his to support herself. Eyes narrowed, for the first time in her life, she purposely affixed her roommate with the most seductive bedroom eyes she could muster. With gyrating hips, she ground her pussy against the towering cock, lifting then slamming her pelvis down, lifting and slamming, enjoying every deep carnal incursion, elevating the reverse cowgirl position to new heights.
“See how wet I get for other men?” ‘Millie’ blurted out. “Men who get to fuck me every day while you watch from afar.”
The redhead was clearly going off script now, causing Ambrose to mouth ‘what the fuck?’ at Georgie.
The director waved it off. ‘Just go with it.’ No way he was stopping this now. It was just getting good.
“What men, honey? How could you?” ‘Fred’ ad-libbed, trying to keep some semblance of the dialogue on track.
Thrusting her hips up and out, down and in, Chloe rode Jason faster, really getting into it. Georgie even brought in the pussy light to better illuminate the action. With the burning inner walls of her pussy cranking his cock like a lever, the young man felt his own release building. The young girl pulled out all the stops, her cunt clamping down on the quaking shaft, alternating speeds and pressure. Legs beginning to shake, the man Corey had once dubbed ‘Don Juan’ soon doubted just how much longer he was going to last. As if to confirm that concern, the smell of precum and vaginal juices stung everyone’s nostrils. The room was beginning to overheat as even some of the crew joined Charlie in veiled concealment of bulges in their shorts.
“Your boss, your coworkers, anything with a dick. I need cock every day…something you can’t give me. Can you handle it?”
As part of his character, Ambrose looked dejected, but everyone in the room knew who she was really talking to.
“Take it out, I want to see.”
Hammond’s eyebrows raised. That was definitely not in the script. He looked at Friar.
“Take it out, Goddamnit!” she repeated.
Several eyes surreptitiously glanced to the loft to see if the kid was actually going to do it. Seeing that her agent was in some kind of trance, Ambrose stood up and dropped trou. It was the first time in a year his older, less masculine dick had been on display. This is gonna cost you, he glared at the director.
“Are you watching him fuck me, baby?” Millie asked her fake husband but with eyes trained on Charlie. “Do you…like it?”
Ambrose response was of no consequence; the only one that mattered to her was the almost imperceptible nod that came from above.
“Please, please, please, Mr. Johnson, PLEEAAAASSSSEEEEE DESTROY MY CUNT!”
The odd symbiotic threesome was too much for Jason, who tapped her back. “I’m close,” he whispered.
“STOP!” Hammond shouted, standing from his chair. He hated to stop the flow, but they had one more position to film and he didn’t want to lose his big scene. “Patti, get the lube. Millie, fellate your hubby’s boss…keep him hard.”
Chloe smirked at Charlie one more time before breaking her gaze, easing off the stiff shaft and kneeling, taking it into her mouth. A minute later, the gorgeous assistant appeared with silicone jelly, shooing the stripper away. As Patti applied the lube to Jason’s cock, Chloe climbed to the top of the mattress on all fours, looking back over her shoulder to see if Charlie was still watching. He was.
“Easy,” Jason rasped to the older woman, trying to think of anything but the beautiful, retired porn star’s hand lubricating his dick. “Have we worked together?”
Patti smiled as she wiped the palm of her hand on a towel. “I don’t think so.”
“You sure?”
“Oh, honey, no. I’d remember you.”
Charlie shifted his stance against the railing and watched as Jason once again positioned himself behind Chloe.
“ROLL,” Hammond called out and the set fell silent again.
“That’s it, fuck my hot, filthy little asshole, Mr. Johnson,” ‘Millie begged her husband’s boss.
‘Jax’ wasted no time in mounting the gaping brown hole staring up at him, gently easing into the awaiting rectum. The jelly helped to grease the way, allowing at least half of his cock to traverse the chute before having to pull back and try again. Eventually he was able to get all but a couple inches in. Charlie could almost feel her sphincter close around his own erect penis.
“Nnnnnngggg,” Chloe gritted her teeth, her pelvis shuddering at the invasion.
Bit by bit, Jason began working that ass, establishing a rhythm as his unsheathed meat slid effortlessly in and out of the brown orifice, building speed. As seconds passed, he could tell her muscles were relaxing, as she matched his thrusts.
“Do it, baby, do my bunghole,” the dancer yelped.
“You never let me do that, Millie,” Husband Fred whimpered.
“Cause you’re not man enough!” Wife Millie shot back.
Charlie was beside himself and didn’t know what to do. His body was shaking, his dick was fully erect (no hiding it now) and he needed relief badly. And yet, he was riveted to the spot, watching the love of his life being fucked in the ass.
Jason pushed Chloe’s face into the sheets as he crushed her colon. Her body responded by tensing, gripping his cock tighter, like a vice.
“OH FUCKKKKK!” the young man bellowed, one hand on the small of her back, the other gripping a hip.
“YESSSSSSSSS, FUCK ME!”
The two lovers began building to their mutual crescendo, grunting, moaning, muttering indiscernible words of passion that foretold the impending orgasms. Jason thrust into the slippery anus more methodically, harder and harder until he couldn’t hold back anymore. Using a double tap on her spine as a signal, he withdrew his rigid member from the gushing brown hole while Chloe did a quick one-eighty, positioning herself in front of her costar, ready to take his load.
“Give it to me, Mr. Johnson,” she coaxed, “Let my husband see what a real man has.”
Jerking as he kneeled before her, Jason jacked faster, looking to her pretty face for the trigger he needed. It didn’t take long to get it.
“Right here, baby,” she purred, sticking her tongue out. “Give Millie your spunk.”
Jason bayed loudly at the ceiling, grimacing as he came. Most of the first blast of milky white semen caught the redhead’s forehead, the remaining falling onto the mattress. The second salvo hit the mark, coating her lips and chin with a copious amount of fluid. The last surge struck her nose and eyes, causing her to blink repeatedly.
Above them all, Charlie was sweating profusely, his face puffy and reddened as if he was going to explode. While the actors focused on earning their checks and the crew getting the perfect shot, no one noticed the faint-feeling young man making his way down the padded steps from the loft and leaving the bedroom. Mercifully, the hallway bathroom was mere feet away. Ducking inside, he yanked down his shorts and began masturbating furiously, reliving his Chloe getting pounded into oblivion. Soon, his own cum was shooting in the porcelain bowl below as he suppressed any outburst that would give him away. After every drop was milked from his thankful dick, he sighed with relief, flushed, and washed his hands. Opening the door, the now complaisant talent agent was startled to see Patti standing in the corridor waiting on him.
“We’re done. She’s asking for you.”
+++++
‘Apparently a better friend to you.’
That’s not true, Lauren thought as she drove the fifteen minutes to Zane’s house. And it was certainly not what she wanted. The biker was Corey’s friend first and foremost, there was no doubt about that. Always had been and hopefully would continue to be. She had been the third wheel for years, never included on fishing or hunting trips. Nor invited to the rink to watch a hockey game. That had been their bond. Guy things. Regardless of what others might think of men with his fetish, her husband was still very much a man beyond bedroom walls.
So, what did she want?
Release…exhilaration…
Sex.
Rough, merciless sex. Had Corey left well enough alone, she wouldn’t be driving over to Zane’s place right now. Like many mature couples, she would have just been content to let the sex part of marriage fade like the setting sun behind her. Had Corey not driven her into other men’s arms, Lauren would never have known the kind of excitement there was to be had there. Depravities of all sorts which she now knew. She now craved. And wanted more. What woman wouldn’t?
The fact of the matter was, they couldn’t go back to the way they were. Even if both agreed to be monogamous again, it would never be the same. Corey could never unsee her in the back of that limo with those frat boys; could never forget how she joined with Jax and Chloe to cuck him, or the verbal lashing that she and her lovers had subjected him to. She could never forget the countless times he jacked off while other men fucked her senseless, begging them to ‘destroy the whore’. Did they love each other? Absolutely. Were they destined to grow old together? Yes, unequivocally. Could they pretend the last eight months didn’t happen? Never.
Nor, frankly, did she want to. The next Rekrap Industries Vice President was not stupid. Educated and business savvy, Lauren had gotten to where she was by working hard and earning those accolades. And yet, beneath that studious façade lay a wife-turned-slut, whoring herself out for a good time, drugs, and even cash. Even the VP position had been partially earned on her back. She had raised two adult children and sold more Scout cookies than Jimmy Carter had peanuts, and yet the past few months, life had found her in many compromising situations. From taking it up the ass in an alley – and getting paid for it – to being on her knees sucking off a corporate entrepreneur for a contract and an eight-ball of coke. Not enough to condemn her as a crack whore, but definitely enough for the notion to be put to a vote.
Did that not bother her? Did it not sting knowing her friends gossiped about stepping out on Corey? Or their pastor suspecting she may have succumbed to temptations of the flesh? When she turned forty-eight last Spring, these things would have mortified her. But now, with another birthday looming and a new life well underway in the Magic City, her personal reputation in what she now considered a flyover town didn’t seem to matter. Getting high and getting laid did. It was as simple as that.
This was obvious when the sexy wife pulled her Volkswagen into Zane’s driveway. The fire down below already lit, she applied another layer of lipstick and tousled her bangs in the rearview. Satisfied, the wayward spouse picked up the glass wrench and slid off the driver’s seat, tapping that pic of her and Corey dangling from the mirror. That’s right, the one of them in the mountains, cheek to cheek and smiling. As the memento of simpler times swung poetically, a haunting, eccentric, and profane laugh came from Lauren’s mouth.
See ya later, babe…that is after your best buddy pounds me into next week.
+++++
Across town, Corey paced back and forth on his deck. Had any of his neighbors been in their backyards, his distress would have been clear.
Why, Lauren? Why do you have to see him yet again?
He looked up and yelled skyward. “Well, THAT’S a stupid question, isn’t it?” The anguish in that outburst resounded across the whole of the yard.
Why can’t you understand? TWO DAYS! You leave in TWO days! Only one more night together. Then…then you get to go back to a sparkling, happening city and…
…and your boy toys. And me?
A metal watering can went sailing over the railing with a swift kick.
I get to stay in this shithole while you continue your whoring!
Corey sighed heavily. Were things getting away from him? It seemed so. During her visit, Lauren had chosen to intimate time not with him, but with others. That much was clear. And the campaign to push him to his limits had also ramped up significantly, although he himself had culpability there. Yes, it was all his doing, and now the lifestyle’s elixir had him by the balls, leaving him with no desire to escape.
Eying the keys to his truck hanging in the kitchen, he stroked a stubbly chin. He could take back the night if he wanted. Maybe not completely, but Picardo’s house was only a short drive away. Did he not deserve to be there? To be part of his wife’s consensual infidelity instead of listening through a goddamn door? Was he not…her husband?
With decidedly firm resolve, Corey flung open the screen door to the house and poured himself two fingers of whiskey. The good shit, not the kind he served at parties. Then another. And another. As the burn turned to warm courage, he grabbed the keys and headed toward the garage. Fuck ’em all.
Seconds later, several perplexed neighbors heard an engine roar to life from across the cul-de-sac. One was Ruth Nunnery who, peering over her well-trimmed hedges, saw the Millers’ pickup soar backward down the driveway and screech to a stop. With tires barking, it then lurched forward and catapulted down the street.
Such strange behavior out of those two these days, she thought to herself. Maybe it’s a good thing they are moving.
+++++
“Lauren.”
Zane opened the door to his modest home and stuck his head out in surprise. “What brings you here?”
Although he was not expecting her, it was only logical her husband would have been with her. She’d never before visited without him. Of course, that had all been before the Ashley Date.
“Is Corey with?”
“No, he’s at home,” the very put-together brunette smiled. “So, aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“Oh, uh yeah, sure.”
Lauren followed him inside, trying to conceal her drooling over the tight tee and cute sweat bottoms he was wearing. Yet, as happy as he seemed to see her, she could detect some reluctance in his tone.
“Bad time?”
“Well, yeah kind of. I mean no, but…”
Seemingly oblivious to the answer, she stepped up and planted a kiss squarely on his lips. Not one to be shy, Zane reacted in the way any man would. He kissed her back.
Two minutes later the pair came up for air.
Lauren patted his chest. “Wow.”
“Yeah,” the mechanic wiped the corner of his mouth. “Um, why exactly are you here?”
Lauren pressed the wrench into his chest. “Returning your award, silly. Before it gets lost in the move. You remember THAT night, don’t you?”
He cracked a nervous smile, all the while looking towards his driveway. “How could I forget?” Setting the trophy on a coffee table, he wiped his hands on the back of his sweats. “Eh, thanks.”
An awkward silence permeated the air. There was an elephant in the room, and both knew it.
“Last night,” Zane began cautiously, “are you sure that was the right thing to do? I mean, we were really drunk. Did he really enjoy that?”
Lauren nodded with sincerity. “Jacked off last night listening to us. And then again, this morning. In front of me.”
Picardo rubbed the back of his neck. “Er, right. I’m not sure I should be hearing that.”
“Why not?” Lauren replied matter-of-factly, looking at how the living room had been arranged specifically around a big screen television, like for a watch party. “You asked.”
“Yeah, I gotta stop doing that.”
“Expecting company?”
It didn’t take long for her question to be answered. As if on cue, the front door swung open, and in walked Sean Hale and Toby Boone, each carrying a six-pack. The men were the third and fourth members of the Fearsome Four, along with Zane and Corey. Friends for decades.
“Hey bro, you ready to watch Rodriquez kick the shit out of Lane?” Toby puffed, “I got twenty he…”
The new arrivals froze as Lauren and their friend broke a tight embrace and quickly separated.
“Um…okaaaay. Hi, there Lauren,” Sean gulped, eying Zane suspiciously.
“Hi, Sean. Hi Toby,” she wiggled her fingers with folded arms, blushing.
Toby just grinned, then turned to Zane, “We still watching the fights, or…you got other plans?”
The mechanic frowned. “No, man, we’re still on.”
Lauren’s eyes widened. Of course, boxing matches. She wasn’t a fan but knew Corey and the guys always got together to watch.
“Oh, hey listen, don’t mind me, I was just leaving.”
As the beautiful office manager gathered herself to go, the men took notice of her skimpy jumpsuit and intoxicating perfume. Simply put, she was smokin’. It was Toby that spoke first. He may have been married, but that didn’t mean he was dead. “Hey boys, we don’t mind her staying, do we?”
Zane and Sean stood stoically as they tried to mask their gawking. They shook their heads.
“There, no good reason for you to run off, is there?” Ripping a can from the pack, Toby handed it to her. “Here, take a load off.”
Lauren looked at Zane as if for permission, but he just shrugged. What’s a fight without a little eye candy, he thought.
“Have a seat, first round in thirty minutes.” He pointed to a plastic erase board and a magic marker on the table. “There are two fights tonight. Get your bets in now.”
+++++
By the time Corey arrived in his old friend’s neighborhood, he’d driven for nearly twenty minutes. He probably could have made it in half that time, but drove judiciously, waiting for the whiskey to kick in. As he rolled passed the modest house, he was surprised to see two other cars in the driveway alongside Lauren’s. Braking, it slowly suddenly dawned on him whose they were.
Sean’s and Toby’s.
What the hell are they doing here?
Intrigued, he decided against pulling in, but instead, continued down the block and made a right at the next corner. The side street would provide him with some anonymity, and the alley that ran the length of the eight homes on that row, some cover should he need it. Leaning against the tailgate, Corey pondered his next move.
First… why would Lauren come over here if she knew his other friends were going to be here. That made zero sense.
Or did it?
‘Go where so many of your friends have gone.’
The more he contemplated that statement, the more a sinking, abysmal feeling washed over him like a cloak of doom. The connotation was so awful, so wicked that shook his head violently to try and shake the vile thought from his rattled brain.
No way. Surely, that had been just part of the tease! A way to grind his gears. There was zero chance Lauren was sleeping with Sean and Toby too, much less being here for…some twisted group thing.
Right?
+++++
Lauren browsed her phone patiently, listening to the classic rock station playing in the background while Zane, Toby, and Sean watched the pre-fight festivities on television and talked trash about each boxer. Occasionally, she could feel eyes upon her, only to look up and find one of the men looking away. All three were guilty and it happened more than once. She had to grin.
So even the married friends have wandering eyes, huh?
It was no wonder; the vertical straps that traversed her chest from neck to waist were vertically narrow, only about three inches wide, enough to barely cover her breasts while leaving most of her chest and navel exposed. A wrong move one way or the other could produce a prominent nipple slip, something the boys were surely hoping for.
How did she feel about that? It was good to be noticed, of course, and letting them look did no harm. Not that anyone but Zane would stand a chance. Judy and Shelly were her friends too, and Lauren may have been a lot of things, but a homewrecker she was not.
As the announcers continued to build excitement and boxers given last-minute instructions, she thought of Corey and why they didn’t invite him.
“Hey guys, just curious. Why isn’t Corey here?”
The men glanced at each other as if they had already discussed that.
“We, uh, well,” Toby hemmed a bit, “we honestly thought since you were leaving soon that you would want some alone time. At least that’s what Zane said.”
Lauren glanced over at the biker. “Oh really?” She found it odd that he was just ‘looking out for them’. More than likely, he was not yet ready to face Corey after last night. It did prove, however, that the guys had no idea of her and Corey’s changing relationship. Well, two of them anyway. They fully expected the Millers to be fucking like rabbits.
Clearing her throat, the sexy executive stood and smoothed out her clothing.
“Who needs another beer?”
+++++
Corey’s mind was racing a mile a minute.
Were Shelly and Judy over as well? That was plausible. Not getting an invitation kind of rubbed him the wrong way, but maybe Picardo was just feeling guilty.
But something was off. If Zane knew Lauren was coming, why would he invite the other couples over too? Her being there without him would certainly raise a red flag.
Of course, it would. So, then the only other explanation was…
Jesus.
Settle down, dude. Think this through. No way what you think might be happening in there is. Two out of three of them were happily married.
Just like Picardo used to be.
Okay, so I need to sort this out in my head. To know for sure.
Looking behind the houses, there was plenty of darkness to get away with it. Zane’s house was the fifth one down, almost in the middle of the block. If Corey could make it to the back gate, he could easily remain undetected. Any dusk to dawn lights there were had not worked for years. And he knew the house well. Doing some reconnaissance should be easy.
With a heavy sigh, he threw the hood of his sweatshirt over his head, stuffed shaking hands into faded jeans’ pockets, and quickly pattered down the alley.
+++++
All three men inconspicuously bent their necks to watch Lauren Miller’s ass walk away and into the kitchen. When she disappeared, Toby was the first to lean forward.
“So, you hittin’ that?” he asked Zane with too much exuberance.
“Dude, not cool,” Sean shook his head.
“Why? How long have we been friends? Inquiring minds want to know. C’mon Zane, give it up.”
The mechanic blinked back with a perfect poker face. “Where’d you get that idea?”
Toby looked at Sean, who shrugged. “Gail. She told us about that night at Clancy’s.”
“Screw her. Gail don’t know jack.”
Toby begged to differ. “Let’s see. I fucked the shit out of your wife sounds pretty conclusive, man.”
“Listen, about that…” Zane frowned, clearly irritated. Unfortunately, Lauren came back into the room, ensuring that his friends would have to wait for the truth.
Leave it to Toby to remind him that he owed them an answer.
You didn’t deny it, he mouthed to his pal when she wasn’t looking, the corners of his mouth turning up into a broad smile. Lucky motherfucker.
+++++
“So, wait a sec,” Lauren pointed at the screen, opening her fourth beer.
A young blonde in a micro-bikini was strutting around the fight ring holding a sign.
“You mean a girl comes out every intermission and bares all just to tell everyone what round it is?”
Sean chuckled. “Kind of. It’s called a one-minute, but yeah, essentially.”
“Why don’t they just have a scoreboard like at the football games.”
“Now where would the fun be in that?” Toby joked, taking another drink.
Zane agreed and fist-bumped his friend.
“Hell, I could do that,” Lauren professed.
“Hah,” Picardo laughed. “As if.”
Lauren cocked her eyebrows. “Oh really?”
Grabbing the washable sharpie off the table, she wrote down the current round number on the betting board and stood up.
+++++
Nostrils stinging with ripe garbage, Corey dashed passed the dumpsters and trash cans until he came to a familiar garage and backyard, one in which he had shared many a drink with his best friend. In the distance, a lone dog barked, a mild threat to his presence, but not really. With a quick push, he swung open the chain-link gate and sprinted over the winter dormant lawn. This was the second time in little more than a week that he had followed Lauren to spy on her. First at Alpha Sigma Beta and now here. Feeling more like a private eye than a spurious husband, he slunk past dead bushes along the side of the home until he reached the gangway between Zane and his neighbors. Up near the front would be a tall skinny side window with a view of the living room. Sure enough, the flicker from a television could be seen filling the darkness between the two houses. Unluckily, when he arrived, the bottom sill was a foot above his head. Two minutes and a makeshift pile of landscaping rock later, he was able to peek in.
And that’s when he saw his best friends… BFFs…his posse, sitting around in a circle, laughing, catcalling, and leering.
…at his wife.
There, sure as shit, was Lauren in that sexy jumpsuit, smiling and prancing around like a showgirl while shaking her ass.
And being the wife of a long-time buddy, every single one of them was looking right at it, wondering what it would be like to be so lucky.
+++++
DING, DING.
It took the peal of the round end-bell to tear the guys’ eyes away from the near-perfect buttocks. Lauren seemed a little disappointed that a sweaty old fight had wrested back their attention. She vowed to rectify that.
Smiling from ear to ear, she gave each a sexy smile as she meandered to the kitchen to get another round.
The fights! Of course! Now Corey had his reason. But if true, why not invite me? The four of them always watched this shit together unless one of them was working.
Unless she was…
…the after-party entertainment?
Stop it! Just stop it!
On the television, the boxers went to their respective corners.
“Do it again,” Toby toasted their personal ring girl with a big, expectant smile on his face. “Can you remind me what round it is again?” It was a clear invitation to shake her tail again.
“What are you, like twelve?” Sean asked, rolling his eyes. He liked that show as well as any man would but had to admit Corey’s wife’s behavior was a little erratic. And then there was that embrace when they walked in. Far friendlier than he’d want Shelly to be with Zane, that’s for sure.
Lauren dismissed the comment and picked up the non-perm marker and dry-erase board. Turning around, she wrote something down, then stood in front of Toby, nearly calf to calf. He looked at the plastic still under her arm.
“Well, miss smarty pants? What round is it?”
Slowly she sank to her haunches, putting her even with his sitting crotch. With a devilish smirk, the board was revealed.
It was blank.
“Um, I think you forgot to write it down.”
But she hadn’t. No, not at all. With an even steamier grin, Lauren set down the placard and placed one of Toby’s hands on the right front strap of her jumpsuit.
“Take a look,” she glanced down at her chest, inviting him to pull.
Lauren, what are you doing? Corey scowled in the cold outside.
“Uh, oh, I…” Toby stuttered, looking between both of his pals. They simply stared back at him as his hand trembled on the material.
“Don’t you want to know what round it is?” Lauren purred.
Swallowing hard, Toby pulled the polyester away from her skin. Beneath it, a small braless nipple popped out. Just above the dark areolae was the number zero.
Corey spit on the ground. I fucking knew it.
Lauren then placed his other hand on the left strap. There was no mistake in what she wanted him to do this time. He pulled that one too exposing her other tit. Above the nipple, the number 7 was written.
“Sev…seventh round. Th-thanks,” Topy said, sweat forming on his brow.
Wow, Sean mouthed at Zane, who just shook his head. What’s gotten into her?
Attention now reacquired, Lauren continued her tease, emboldened by beer and their reactions. The guys were doing their best to look casual about the whole thing, but the growing tents in their pants said otherwise.
“Mmm, I love this song,” she said of a song that had just come on the radio.
Whether she did or not didn’t matter. Rising from a squat, she began to dance sensuously around the room. Being the center of excitement these days was something she was growing quite fond of, even if it was from her husband’s best friends. Somehow that made it hotter.
The fight now all but forgotten, it was hard not to notice that all eyes were on her as she began to twirl and danced sensuously around the room. Including two small beady ones peering over the windowsill.
Lauren closed her eyes and enjoyed her buzz. She felt like dancing.
Was that a crime?
+++++
“What a goddamn tart,” Corey grumbled, watching his wife’s hips sway and swoon seductively. SHE JUST FLASHED MY FRIENDS!
Like a wet dream, she glided through the living room, euphoric and whimsical, a witch in flight. Her body snaked suggestively, a cross between a belly dancer and a snake handler, mesmerizing the three cobras who could not take their eyes off her. With every risqué move, their heads followed, drinking in her aura, each one imagining the PTA mom naked. Unsure gazes were slowly turning into ones of longing while at the same time, she dined on the testosterone that was filling the air.
Corey snorted. This was proof it was no longer all about him. You don’t even know I’m here and still you flirt.
What a slut.
+++++
Grooving steadily to the beat, Lauren twirled methodically, hands traversing and caressing her upper body, then to her hips. Occasionally she would squat, open and close her legs, putting the stretch material to the test. From there she would spin upward, like an ice dancer ending a routine, then begin hugging herself all over again. It was sexy, erotic…
…and dangerous.
“On the mat he goes!” the announcers shouted of the forgotten bout. One of the fighters had gone down hard and the referee was now counting.
“Hell yes!” Sean broke out of the trance and jumped up realizing he’d backed the right horse in the first fight.
“Looks like you’re up forty, dude,” Zane tore his eyes away and high-fived his friend while handing him the three crisp twenty-dollar bills on the table.
“I’m telling’ ya, Rodriquez is going to put a beating on Lane too.”
“This says bullshit,” Toby interjected, throwing a fifty on top of the betting sheet. Seeing Lauren’s tits were great and all, but money was money.
Zane and Sean shook their heads. “No way,” they argued, both showing twenty and tens to call.
“How’s this work?”
The men looked at Lauren. She had taken a seat and now sat crossed-legged like a lady, arms outstretched along the back of her chair. The thin material of the bodice was gathered taut across her chest again.
“We each put in fifty,” the mechanic mansplained. “If Pedro Rodriquez wins, Toby goes home with an extra hundred. If Nick Lane wins, Sean and I are up fifty each.”
“Wanna play?” Toby gushed, drawing odd looks from the other guys. “What? Just trying to be inclusive.”
“Sure,” Lauren shrugged, “but I don’t have any cash.”
“That’s okay, we’ll figure something out.”
A pregnant pause sucked the air out of the room.
“Okay, I’m in. Sounds like fun.”
Given what had just happened, and any foreshadowing it may have brought, not one damn cock wasn’t hard.
Both inside and outside the house.
+++++
Corey tightened the hoodie and blew tepid air into his hands. Okay, what to do?
He could leave his perch and walk in the front door, sort of ‘hey bro, ‘sup?’ He could yank Lauren right on out of there and take her home.
But he couldn’t. Something rooted him to the spot. What the hell was he there for then? To do something about this
…or just watch?
Although he couldn’t quite understand what was being said inside, Sean had evidently won the bet on the first bout. The next one would be the title fight, judging from the time. Corey was wondering just how much more cold he could take when one of the stones he was standing on shifted and crumbled, throwing him to the ground.
And those dusk-to-dawn motion detectors that hadn’t worked in years?
Shit.
+++++
Everyone inside the house looked toward the wall of windows when the spots came on.
“Neighbor?” Sean suggested as Zane got off his lounger and walked calmly over to where his coat hung.
“Maybe.”
+++++
Bathed in blinding white light, Corey scampered for cover, jumping behind some yews big enough to hide his large frame. Holding his breath, he heard someone open a door, and then the crunch, crunch, crunch of shoes walking about on the frosty ground.
Fuck!
If Zane catches me here, I’m dead meat.
The footfalls stopped about ten feet away, almost as if the owner was looking and listening. Just then a cat decided to dart into the open from underneath another hedge, screeching and hissing. Moments later, the footsteps slowly retreated, until the voyeur husband heard the door close. The silence was blessed.
Whew.
+++++
“Yes, yes, yes, BEAT HIS ASS!” Toby screamed at the television, his hands taking imaginary jabs.
It was the fifth round of the last fight and Nick Lane was on the ropes out of gas. Without warning, Pedro Rodriquez nailed him with a wicked uppercut and his opponent hit the deck.
Back in the gangway, Corey was able to reconstruct the rocks, and, after the motion detector clicked off, was able to get eyes on the foursome again. Luckily, even though Picardo had seen the spot go on after he’d come back in, he had chalked it up to the cat. Just as the harmless voyeur peeked over the sill, Zane was turning off the tube and Sean was shaking his head in disgust. Toby, happy as a clam, playfully flipped both the bird and picked the cash up off the table.
With the TV off now, Corey could sort of hear Lauren politely offering congratulations. “But I seem to be caught without a way to cover my bet.”
Still celebrating, Toby opened his wallet and squirreled away his winnings.
“What? Oh, yeah, Laur, forget about it. I got these suckers’ money. That’s all that matters.”
Lauren thought about that for a second, then stood up. “Nonsense,” she declared, walking over to one of her husband’s oldest friends. “That’s not fair. Let me see if I can do one better.”
Only the hum of the furnace could be heard.
Corey hung his head. Why did I come here?
Sean and even Zane were a bit anxious as the raven-haired beauty strolled over to Toby and stared into his eyes.
“Lauren…” Zane said cautiously.
With little fanfare, she sank to her knees.
“Oh shit. I…I gotta go,” Sean blurted out and grabbed his coat.
Corey held his breath. Jesus Christ, babe, no. These aren’t strangers or those headcases in Miami. These are our lifelong friends.
Time stopped as Lauren put her hands on Toby’s thighs and came closer. Her face even with his bulging crotch, she moved her head between his legs.
Not one man moved, and each was perspiring heavily. Before anyone could react, her hands moved from the winner’s knees to his shoelaces, where she promptly turned them into a nice, tight bow.
“There!” Lauren clapped happily. “Safety first!”
All three men breathed out and snickered nervously as she let go a particularly unhinged laugh. Outside, Corey exhaled with relief, his breath briefly fogging the window.
“No seriously,” she chirped, “now for the real payoff.”
Sean and Zane looked on incredulously her hands fluttered to Toby’s fly. A look of sheer lust came over Lauren while she tried to pull down the zipper. It was halfway down before he realized what was happening.
“Shit, oh no, I..I gotta go too,” Toby cried out, standing up and turning to look for his coat. “Holy fuck, can…can I get a ride? Please? Anyone?”
“Your cars out front,” Picardo reminded him, quickly moving to pull Lauren up off the floor.
As his two friends were hitting the door, he yelled after them.
“GUYS!”
Both stopped and looked back with much consternation.
“She’s drunk, okay?”
Sean and Toby looked at him, then at her, then at him again. Both nodded unsurely and left.
+++++
A cool breeze whipped through the gangway as Corey’s mouth hung open. Was she really going to blow Toby? Surely not?
Around the corner in the driveway, he could hear two car doors open and close, then the vehicles start. All he could think about was how would he ever face them again. It was bad enough that Zane knew she was a slut. Now them.
And yet, for all his worry, through the biting cold, Corey’s dick was rock hard.
+++++
“Well, that was fun,” Lauren chuckled.
Zane looked at her in disbelief. “What if he tells Judy?”
“He won’t, or he’ll never be allowed to come over here again. Besides, nothing happened. Nor would it have.”
The biker began picking up the living room. “So, you did that on purpose, so they’d leave.”
“Did I?”
“And if Toby would have let you?”
“Then I guess I’d be leaving him a cherished memory of me.”
“God, what have you become?”
With little hesitation, Lauren pulled Picardo to her, then slid to the floor again Pulling down his sweatpants, she was rewarded as that big, crooked penis snapped to attention.
“Yesterday’s virtue, and today’s whore.
+++++
Corey watched with Job’s patience through the frosty pane as his wasted wife serviced his best friend. Despite the dropping temperatures, his own dick was pressing against his moist briefs most agonizingly.
While Zane groaned appreciatively, Lauren slurped and sucked, maintaining that all-important eye contact. With his head tilted back in pleasure, she latched onto his cock with fervor, alternating between the shaft and balls, licking, lapping, and deep-throating until working up a lather any barber would be proud of. The mechanic succumbed to the song of a siren as he had before, headed towards smashing long-term friendships on the rocks of unhinged passion. Good, solid alliances that spanned decades. All for the sake of living out long-harbored desires, the coveting of another man’s wife. He knew he was straying dangerously close to the rocks now but could not help himself. The more she serenaded, the more enchanted the recalcitrant bull became.
With a sudden tremor, the auburn matriarch sensed the imminent. Freeing the jumpsuit strap from around her neck, she allowed it to fall to her waist, lest it get soiled. After several more grunts and judders, the biker tensed and came. A lot. Tongue wagging the obligatory encouragement and both hands on the quaking member, Lauren directed spurt after hot spurt of sticky cum onto her face and hair, giggling as the milky white fluid ran down her cheeks.
“Now,” she enticed her very own Odysseus with a classic reference to the just concluded fights. “Are you ready to rumble?”
+++++
Jesus fucking Christ!
Corey freaked as something knocked against his leg. Something…alive.
Caught off guard, tumbled back not so sneaky yelp.
“Meeerowwww.”
The stupid cat had returned and was seeking out warmth wherever it could get it. Looking back through the window, he caught a glimpse of the couple inside as they moved towards the back of the home, turning off lamps as they went. Giggling and unsteady, Lauren clutched the Top Mechanic award to her chest as Zane followed.
Waiting until the final hallway light was extinguished, which thankfully threw most of the house into darkness, Corey debated his next move. He could leave, of course, and go home. That would have been the prudent thing to do. Yet, that was his wife in there, off to do what she was good at these days, to be a cumslut, a plaything. But he had every right to see that if he wanted. To experience it, even if from afar. To…feel something.
With every bit of stealth as the animal rubbing against his calf, he moved down the gangway towards the front gate, the one next to the driveway. Rusty, it squeaked a bit being unlatched but then yielded with little protest. Vulnerable now, Corey quickly stepped to the front door and looked up and down the street. Several cars ambled by without giving him a second thought. It wasn’t late, maybe nine-ish, so seeing someone on the front porch was not at all suspicious.
Okay, now what?
Remembering Sean and Toby’s quick exit, followed by the attention-grabbing blowjob, he took a chance that no one had thought to lock the door. Twisting the decorative knob, it turned with ease and swung open.
Yes!
One more glance around and Corey stepped in, easing the door shut with both hands until it clicked. It was dark, but he’d been there so often he knew every inch. Like a burglar with purpose, the eschewed wittol deftly navigated around the furniture to the passageway leading to the guest and master bedrooms. There were two ways to gain access to the master. Directly from the corridor, or through the mutual bathroom it shared with the hallway. Seeing as the shitter had a small nightlight, he stayed put. Not yet willing to peek around the doorjamb and expose himself to discovery, Corey closed his eyes and listened intently.
“So here we are,” he heard Lauren whisper tenderly.
“So here we are,” Zane repeated. “And where exactly is your husband?”
“Home, beating off, I guess. I really don’t know.”
“He knows you’re here?”
“Yes.”
The mechanic sighed. He pictured his friend, sitting at home, masturbating to imagined scenes involving his wife and fishing buddy. For the past couple of months, that had bothered Zane quite a bit. Now, he was coming around to it. That fact that Corey did so much to encourage it all while dealing with his own demons, kind of turned the younger man on. He’d ask for it. And Zane was happy to oblige.
“Strip. Let me see your body.”
A few rustling noises, then a low shriek. That caused Corey to edge one eyeball around the doorframe, only to see Zane had grabbed a fistful of that luscious black hair to yank her into his arms. Both completely nude now, the lovers melted together, arms caressing each other’s bodies. Lauren threw her head back, accepting his advances and yearning for something more. Something felt right about being in this man’s arms. Something decadent. Something powerful. After a few seconds of swapping tongues, the biker forced Lauren to her knees.
“You want me to fuck you, bitch?”
“Yes.”
“Say it.”
“Fuck me.”
“Fuck me WHO?”
“Fuck me, Zane. Fuck me with your big cock.”
“Well, what are you waiting for? Get me hard again.”
Once again on her haunches, Lauren devoured his virile tool, exploring the circumcised head and every ridge of the pulsating shaft. It was sentient, vital, and alive.
“Goddamn, you’re good.”
“Hmmm.”
In what little light there was, Corey’s pale blue eye widened as he watched with perverted lust; a wittol by any other name, vulture-like, cowering outside the bedroom like a mouse that was too afraid to scamper across the floor. Zane hunched over Lauren, his bulging back muscles and beefy ass fortifying his stance against her throat’s onslaught. Anyone listening may have heard slight groans at first. Not of terror, pain, or grief, but stifled sounds that rose from the gut. Primeval, scatologic, and crude. And it grew louder…and louder…as if another orgasm was inevitable.
Suddenly Lauren stood, filling the room with that signature maniacal laugh, wagging a finger in her lover’s face. “Not yet, baby.”
“Oh ho! You wanna play games, do you cunt?” Zane replied with irritation. Grabbing her again by the hair, he spun her around and into his arms, back against his chest. “Okay, we’ll play games.”
With a quick release, the mechanic shoved Lauren hard, causing her to careen towards the bed with arms flailing to keep her balance. Landing on her belly, Corey could hear the air forced from her lungs.
“Do it then, just do it,” she gasped.
Zane lumbered over and looked down at the attractive moll laying before him. Laughing at the ~EZ~ tattoo which pretty much summed up her life at the time, he climbed on the mattress and knelt behind her, pulling her pelvis even with his.
Yesterday’s virtue, indeed.
Corey saw his friend mount Lauren with ease, wishing it was him instead. Despite the darkness, he could tell when the bigger man penetrated her by the soft cries of pleasure from both.
SLAP!
Zane struck one of her ass cheeks. Then the other.
SLAP! SLAP!
Last night had affirmed her penchant for the rough stuff and he aimed to deliver again. Grabbing her hips, he buried his cock deep. The feeling of her love canal as it tightened was glorious and ethereal.
“DO IT AGAIN!” Lauren begged.
SLAP! SLAP! Her ass jiggled at each strike.
“Such a bad, bad wife,” Zane berated, one hand on the small of her back, the other gripping a hipbone tightly. “Fucking your husband’s best friend while he sits at home. Tsk, tsk, what a slut.” His jaw clenched while gliding now fully erect steel into her extremely wet pussy.
“I…don’t…want…to…talk…about…him,” Lauren sputtered breathlessly, barely able to stay on all fours from such powerful thrusts. “It’s just you and me tonight.”
And there it was. Corey turned away from the doorjamb, leaning against the wall. Lauren in the wild cared not for her husband, only for what carnal pleasure was at hand.
“C’mon bitch, move those hips!”
SLAP! SLAP!
“Muh, muh, muh, muh!”
Corey didn’t have to see her face to know how it was contorting in the darkness as his friend fucked her, tongue hanging out as she continuously gasped for air, struggling to stay up. Zane was in complete control now. Grabbing Lauren by the hair, he turned her towards him. Like a cowboy pulling a rein, her head followed until that sumptuous mouth was aligned with his dick, heavy with her juices. Without warning, he shoved the rigid cock passed her lips and down her throat, whether she was ready or not.
“CAAAAAAAACKKKKK.”
Lauren gagged several times before he allowed her to come up for air. Seconds later, Lauren felt the wide tool slide back down her esophagus, blocking all hopes of breathing, while hairy balls slapped her chin. Eyes stinging, tears pouring from the corners, there were several times she thought she was going to faint.
“Take it bitch!”
Mercifully, Zane tired of the throat-burning offensive and pulled her to her knees and kissed her, shoving his tongue down deep. Snapping her head back, he slapped her face, laughing at the mascara that was beginning to run.
“Is this what you came for, whore? What your old man can’t give you?”
Corey’s heart sunk when she nodded, trying desperately to wipe off the spittle that was oozing from the corners of her mouth.
“I deserve it. I deserve to be fucked like a cheating whore.”
“You bet your ass you do.”
SLAP! SLAP! The force of the backhands sent more bubbly froth flying from her cheeks.
In one fell swoop, Zane grabbed Lauren by the throat and pounced, shoving her spine into the mattress and forcing her legs open. Instantly he was in her again, bottoming out as she clutched deliriously at his shoulder blades and howled at the ceiling.
“OH GOD YES! PLEASE FUCK ME!”
With both eyes now around the doorframe, Corey could see the dark outline of the two as they became slaves to the night. Zane was missionary between Lauren’s raised, bobbing legs. It was a place he, Corey, should have been as her only and rightful lover. Instead, that ship had sailed a long time, he himself smashing the champagne on her inaugural voyage.
Driving, piercing, and tunneling, Picardo slammed into his friend’s wife, making her scream at every turn. As the grunting continued to build, it was clear that Zane was close. Within minutes he was braying at the headboard, mouth stretched, dumping his load into her mature pussy while adoring eyes stared into his. Silence filled the room save for heavy breathing from both. Corey squeezed his crotch, wishing for a way to relieve the pressure. But he dare not. Even the sound of a distant zipper would be like a freight train in a quiet house. Eventually, the bed creaked, and he peeked again. Zane had rolled off and was headed to the bathroom.
Lauren lay still, a smile on her face, head filled with many happy emotions. She had not yet cum, but that was okay. With Zane, it was just a matter of time. Although Zane was only a few years younger than Corey, he was in way better shape and had much better stamina. There was no doubt he’d get her there.
Hmm, I wonder what Abby his wife used during intermissions while her husband recharged? I bet she had help!
Taking a chance, Lauren threw off the sheet and opened the nightstand next to the bed. Not that she was expecting to find anything. After all, Abby and Zane had been divorced for months. Still, maybe the ex had forgotten a toy or two somewhere. Foraging in the dark didn’t help matters, but she didn’t want to turn on the lamp and reveal her snooping. Fingers groping for anything that felt like a dildo, her hand stopped on some change, a pair of socks, and…what’s this?
Lauren suppressed a giggle. A tube of lube. Excellent for intercourse, it read.
Best keep that out, she smirked, resuming her rummaging. Nothing else here, really, except…
A pair of panties?
Upon closer inspection, it was clear these weren’t Abby’s. A bigger girl, she would not fit into them. Definitely leopard skin too. Wait, there was more. A small tag. A very familiar one, in fact. A distinctive puffy heart that bore the name of the only shop in the world that sold them.
‘Magic City Unmentionables.’
What the fuck?
Bolting up, Lauren flipped on the lamp.
There was no way! OH MY GOD!
Had to be Caroline’s. There was no other explanation. The promiscuous mother had been there when her daughter bought them during the recent visit.
“Zane! Get the fuck out here!”
+++++
There are few things more comical than a man when he’s busted. Upon hearing the urgent yell, he flew back to the bedroom only to stop cold when he saw what she was holding. Mind blank, the mechanic stood there silently, hoping he had fallen asleep and this was a bad dream.
Likewise, Corey shrank further into the hallway. Why was she so upset? What’s with the underwear?
“Whose are these?” Lauren shouted, shaking the panties. “Who the fuck are these?”
Zane could see the recognition in her eyes. There was no use denying it. “I can explain.”
“Is this my daughter’s?”
Corey’s brow furrowed. What?
“Answer me. ARE THESE CAROLINE’S?”
“You already know they are,” he replied, going on to explain how Caroline showed up on his doorstep weeks ago.
The pretty brunette closed her eyes. That would align with the Miami visit. On the way back from Florida, Caroline had told her she was stopping in Lawrence, Kansas to watch a Jayhawks game with friends before going on to Colorado Springs. Apparently, she had not.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Lauren grabbed the sides of her head, then punched the mattress. The implications were too much to process. “Damnit!”
Jesus Mary Joseph. The color drained from Corey’s face as he listened to how his daughter had seduced his friend.
“She said she didn’t have a place to stay,” Zane protested, as if that somehow made a difference.
“And she – or you – didn’t think to call Corey?”
“Her bed was torn apart already, right? You know, because of the move.”
“That isn’t true. And we do have more than one.”
Zane chewed on that. Considering the younger girl’s covert flirting, he probably would have believed anything at the time.
“I got nothing. I’m sorry.”
Lauren leaned against the headboard and drew boney knees up to her chest. Arms gathered round, she fixed him with a steely stare. Tears began to form as the dumbstruck beauty came to terms with the obvious. Counting Tommy, this was the second lover mother and daughter now had in common.
“I can’t believe you fucked her.”
In the hallway, Corey lowered his head. The conversation in his mind was completely different. Not only had his wife cucked him, so now had his kid. This had really gone too far. I’ve got to put an end to it.
He was about to emerge from the shadows when Lauren tossed back her long black mane and threw out her chest, what there was of it. What she said next blew him away.
“Why?”
“I’m sorry, Laur, I should have been stronger. It’s just that she’s a dead ringer for you and…”