I wanted something from her husband. He said he wanted me to make something for him in return. Fair was fair. A stage he called it; a rotating, raw wood, stage. The kind that leaves splinters in naked skin. He didn't say what it was for but I found out soon after I've finished it. I got a ringside seat.
There were other men behind me; a dozen more maybe. They clung to the dark corners, for one reason or another reluctant to approach the stage that sat under a single spotlight, displaying a pretty slut kneeling naked on the rough wooden boards. Her eyes darted around occasionally, trying to make out details in the dark, but spent most of the time fixed to her husband's feet. He sat in a chair to my right, detached as usual. She didn't seem frightened, but her usual ready smiles were absent.
A young man gathered courage first. Maybe he just wanted to get it over with; maybe the sight of her, naked and ready, overpowered his shyness. Seeing him climb up on the stage and struggle out of his clothes, she dropped to her hands and knees and turned to allow him access, her eyes coming up to meet her husband's.
For you
, they lied.
The kid came two minutes after his cock, straining and curving upward, disappeared into her body.
Too quickly
, stated the uncontrolled, disappointed grunt that tore from his lips, but she didn't mind. He was soon replaced by another. And another. As soon as the ice was broken, they closed in like a hungry pack of wolves, forming a ring around her that broke only around the two chairs. More than a dozen, I realized, some looking somewhat uneasy, just as I was, some with their hands cradling growing erections, just as mine was. I couldn't resist it if I tried, watching the raw act of lust mere steps away.
Not a word was spoken and it was easy for me to hear her breathing growing slightly labored as the man behind her thrust his dick into her forcefully and came, panting his pleasure. Her husband raised his hand to signal the next man to wait. The stage, rotating slowly, brought her behind into his view. Her hips still showed pinkness where men had held her. Her clit had come out of its hood completely, seeking stimulation. A white, creamy mixture of several men's sperm seeped slowly out of her. She rocked her hips to show it off, squeeze more of it out. Her husband stroked his cock slowly, the usual calm coldness on his face. He motioned for the next man to claim her. The guy was lean, his head shaved clean, the smile on his lips obscene as he aimed for her sopping pussy. His thick shaft smoothly entered the well-lubricated opening.
I felt a rush of malicious excitement despite sickening compassion and worry for her. She was starting to moan softly. The men's attentions were getting to her, but it was a bitter pleasure. The men were paying for her, and as if that wasn't demeaning enough, they were paying less than you'd need to buy a pack of decent cigarettes. It was a joke. At least her husband appeared to expect me to laugh when he told me about it.
He'd found her down by the shipyards, he told me. She hadn't been a hooker, he said; she'd been doing it for pleasure. Money had been only part of a script. She'd just had two 'customers'; she'd waited for them to leave before lifting up her skirt again. He'd watched her masturbate. The oddest things can make a man take a wife, he said. People have been known to tie a knot for less profound reasons.
Well, she was rolling her hips. She was arching her back. There was a soft music of arousal coming from her throat and I honestly didn't care any more about right and wrong. I made myself more comfortable and watched the guy fuck her and sneer. He got the joke alright.
As soon as that one was finished, another took his place. Impatient, the next man in line climbed on stage to take her mouth. No one complained. I watched her face with bated breath; the sad, crazed little half-smile opening to accept a thick, stubby prick presented to her sweaty face. I tried not to notice the man's flabby belly and the yellow teeth that showed as he breathed hard through open mouth. She looked like she was trying for resignation, but between the meat in her mouth and the friction in her pussy, she was warming up and beginning to move against her tormentors visibly.
Some were satisfied with a quick release, having already stroked their erect dicks almost to an orgasm. A few took their damn time, varying the pace to make it last, pausing to massage her ass cheeks and pinch her tits. She moaned each time, causing them to repeat the tease over and over. They added their sweat to hers until it dripped from her skin onto the boards; they pumped sperm out of her until it trickled down her thighs and pooled around her ankles, then replaced the leakage with their own fluids. The smell of sex reached my nostrils from time to time; the bitter sharpness of fear and the sweet tang of fulfilled craving.
The fatso with bad teeth started cumming deep in her mouth, but a violent, orgasmic jerk tore him from between her lips with a plop and he sprayed all over her forehead and hair already matted from sweat and men's hands. She looked up when he was done, the way she looked into the face of each man who'd came, as if to thank him. She started blinking when a gob of sperm rolled into her eye, dropped her head as it started to sting and whined. The man pounding her from behind never missed a beat, all of his attention on the sight of his cock plunging into her pussy, jaws clenched, shuddering in silence as he shot his load.
The next one, pale-skinned and red-haired, approached her with a grim expression on his face. He slid two long fingers in her vagina to scoop up what hadn't already come out on its own; white strands hanging off his hand, he slapped it onto her ass. It made a wet, sloppy sound that made him grin darkly as he pushed his entire length between her slippery lips in one stroke.
