Thic and Thin: the End

THICK and THIN

The End

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"Lance!" Chrissy skips across to him, throws her arms around his neck and pins him back against the door with a kiss.

Stunned, I find myself in one of my weed-enhanced moments of

Analyst Nerd

observation and analysis. They're nearly the same height, so their mouths came together easily, no angling up or down. He'd been wearing jeans by the barbecue, but now he has on loose-fitting workout pants. His red Coleman cooler jug and a cloth drawstring bag sit at his feet. On his feet are sandals instead of the Vans from earlier.

The kiss hasn't ended when my feet finally start moving toward the door, but fortunately it does before I arrive.

"Hey, partner," Lance smiles at me.

"Hey," I respond in a voice that sounds flat and lifeless even to me.

His smile diminishes. "Hey, you alright?"

Then, "I thought you knew."

Then, to Chrissy, "Baby, didn't Bryan know you invited me up?"

She gets that little girl smile, the one that acknowledges guilt, but not repentance.

"Well, not really, but I knew he wouldn't mind."

She takes her arms from around Lance's neck and puts them around mine. Her face close to mine, she whispers, "Yes, yes and yes," reminding me of what I'd said just seconds earlier. Kissing me lightly, one hand drops down from my neck and grips my package. "Your wife is ready for you to share her again." She kisses me harder and I find myself kissing her back.

"That's more like it," laughs Bryan. "I was afraid this party was ending before it even got started."

He picks up his gear from the floor and I unlock the door.

Inside, he theatrically thrusts his nose up in the air and inhales. "Okay, so you two definitely have got things off to a good start."

"And what did you bring to the party?" Chrissy asks teasingly.

He holds up the Coleman. "Some fresh margaritas, although I purposely made them on the weak side, since we've already lowered our inhibitions." He lowers the cooler and raises the cloth bag in his other hand by its drawstrings. "Of course, if anyone wants to add some extra kick..."

Chrissy pulls the bag open, reaches inside and brings a bottle part way out by its neck. It's a half-full bottle of Silver Patrón; real glass this time, no old Fanta bottles.

She smiles. "Well, aren't you a considerate guest?" She leans in and kisses him as she lets the bottle slide back into the bag. "I'll get glasses," she says after breaking the lip lock.

As Chrissy walks into the kitchen, Lance and I go to the loveseat end of the seating area. He puts the cooler jug and bottle of tequila on the coffee table, lays his bag on the floor by the guitar stool and picks up my Gibson.

"Were you playing earlier?"

Before I can respond, Chrissy answers him from the kitchen with a laugh. "We tried, but just like last weekend, it's hard to sing and play at the same time as you're trying to not let your joint just burn away in the ashtray."

I find myself saddened that I played three love songs for her and what she remembers most is that they interfered with us getting high.

She carries over a tray with margarita goblets and shot glasses, as well as salt and lime wedges on two dessert plates. After she puts the tray down, Lance begins filling the goblets.

Chrissy unbuttons and removes her bulky cardigan, revealing the smooth, pale skin of her shoulders and a pair of nipples that look like they might cut right through her dress. She holds out the sweater to me with a 'Thank you, honey,' look on her face.

I take it and step back to the entry door. I fold her sweater and place it on the seat of a straightback chair and hang my fleece on a coat hook.

Back at the table, Lance is moving the tequila bottle from Chrissy's margarita to his; they've apparently both opted for a little extra kick. I decline when he holds the bottle near my cup. My wife picks up her margarita and Lance picks up two, holding the un-doctored one out to me. We make a three-way toast, although no one gives it words.

"Mm, tasty," says Chrissy, before kissing Lance again. An active, lingering kiss. "Very tasty!" she says when she finally breaks away.

Lance has a hand on one of her hips and if I didn't know better, I'd swear he was pushing her back to me even as he's gazing deep into her eyes.

She spins away from Lance and towards me, taking a deep drink of her margarita. Pressing up against me her nipples are hard, her lips cold. Sweet and salty, with a touch of sour and the sting of the tequila. My God, she tastes good and she feels good and my cock springs to life.

My free hand comes up of its own accord and I squeeze one small breast before taking the nipple between thumb and forefinger. She puts her hand on top of mine and presses them both tight against her chest while also pushing forward with her body, so that her nipple is being crushed against her ribs.

After a few moments of tasting her tongue and feeling her heart beating hard under my palm, she pulls away and turns back toward Lance, clearly moving in for another kiss. I put my cup to my lips and drink, seriously considering throwing in some more tequila after all.

Lance also puts a hand up to her chest. But instead of massaging her tit, he's holding her back. "You know, Bryan was planning on a private night with you. And you didn't tell me that was still his expectation when you invited me up here. So, you've put us both into awkward and uncomfortable positions."

"But," begins Chrissy, but Lance holds a finger up against her lips to shush her.

"So now I think you need to show your husband that you're sorry for being such a mischievous little minx. Don't you?"

"Yes," Chrissy says meekly, dropping her eyes to the floor.

"Down by the barbecue you said you've been working on taking bigger bites. Show us. Show Bryan you're sorry for your tricks by filling your mouth with his juicy meat."

"But, what about...?" Lance cuts her off again.

"I'm going to sit over here and relax, maybe have a little smoke. And watch the show. Watch your blowjob show. Can you give us a good show?"

From the back, it looks to me like she's gazing straight into his eyes as she answers, "Yes."

"Good." He walks around to the other end of the table and sits on the guitar stool. He picks up the burned joint and lighter from the table, but before firing it up he asks, "Bryan, do you want her clothes on or off?" Then he sits back with smiling eyes and takes a long, slow hit.

I don't say anything, but Chrissy knows what I want. I am her husband after all. She slips off her sandals and begins slowly rotating her hips as she eases the sleeveless shift off her shoulders.

I yank my polo shirt over my head and toss it aside.

Of course, she's not wearing a bra and she plays peek-a-boo a couple of times with her tits before bringing the top of the dress to her waist.

I reach for my own waist and frantically undo the top button and fly at the same time as I step on the heel of each boat shoe (no socks, thank God) and kick them off somewhere in the same general direction as my shirt.

She turns her back to me as she works the shift over her hips and bends over deep at the waist as it goes down her legs. A pink thong disappears in the crack of her ass until one foot steps to the side, spreading her incredibly long legs. Now I can see the thin strip of material running between her bulging labia and over her hidden hole. I want to crawl over and pull it away with my teeth.

My cock's already at 3/4 staff and pops up when it comes free of the elastic waistband of my Bjorn Borg's. I nearly fall over while I wrestle my pants down my legs because I can't take my eyes off her as she slides the thong down over her hips and ass and then the mile down to the floor. My cock snaps to full attention.

She straightens and walks away from me, to Lance. He pulls the joint from between his lips as she bends over to kiss him. He plays with her nipple until she finally breaks away and straightens again. As she turns towards me, I see smoke coming out of her mouth and I realize he's shotgunned her.

Her eyes blaze as she steps lightly over to me on her bare feet. 'Even they are lovely,' I think as I feast on her beauty from top to toe.

I think she's going to drop to her knees right there, but instead, she puts her face up to mine for a kiss, while taking hold of my aching rod in her soft, strong hand. She pulls away with a smile and tugs me to follow her, just as she'd done to Lance last weekend. She walks backward between the table and the loveseat and I realize she's positioning me so that her other lover can more easily see the blowjob show he's ordered.

I glance at him over her shoulder. He's just lowering his margarita from his lips and immediately replaces it with the joint. He sucks the hot smoke through the cool of his mouth, never taking his eyes off of us. The look on his face makes me think of a horny Buddha in a very sexy Nirvana.

Chrissy uses my prick like a tiller to stop me at the centre of the loveseat and then turn my back to it. I begin to sit, but she grabs me tighter and pulls up. Okay, maybe she's going to sit on the edge of the table while I stand. But then one corner of her mouth goes up mischievously, as she pulls even harder upwards on my trapped penis. When she shoots her eyebrows up to her forehead, I finally get it and step backwards up onto the seat.

Pausing briefly, she releases me to reach her arm out to the side. It turns out my shirt landed on the arm of the sofette. Chrissy picks it up and reaches between my legs to drape it over the loveseat's back, like a heavy-duty doily. Then she re-grips my control stick and presses me down into a sitting position. I put a hand out to either side to keep from falling over backwards.

Once she has me perched up on the top edge of the sofette's back, she puts her hands on the insides of my knees and spreads them wide. Taking her place on her own knees between them, she begins the most erotic blowjob of my life.

She spits on it heavily and uses that lube to slide her hand up and down. Licking my lollipop from root to head, she gets it to swell to bursting, then palms the head of my cock and squeezes it, which makes my whole boner soften a bit. But then she immediately sucks the head into her mouth and grazes her teeth gently over the sensitive surface to get me back to full, trembling hardness.

And somehow, each act is more exciting, more wanton, than ever before because they're being done in front of an audience. Of course, Chrissy had sucked the hell out of me in front of Lance last Friday and Saturday, but the way he's sitting there now, still clothed, calmly toking on a doobie and sipping from a margarita is surreal. He's kicked off his sandals and maneuvered my stool so he can put his feet up on the arm of the loveseat. He reclines there like some mythical desert Sheikh watching a special show put on by his harem to raise his excitement and earn his approval.

Chrissy's worked up a lot of spit and uses it to wiggle a finger into my ass from underneath. I find myself looking over at Lance, worried about what he thinks of me being violated this way, half expecting a mocking sneer. But instead, he wears a small smile and nods as if in approval. That helps me relax and Chrissy uses the opportunity to thrust her finger deeper inside me.

And even though my wife has deep-throated me many times, it still feels like my cock is thrusting deeper than ever before into her throat. Whether the extreme situation is making me harder and longer or she's somehow opening her throat wider than ever before, the feeling is incredible. She hums, gulps and swallows and each movement massages the head of my cock against the sides of her throat in ways that threaten to push me over the edge. But she senses each warning tremor and backs off until the danger passes. Each time she pulls back for one of these respites, the spit flows from her mouth and she uses it to re-lube her ass-fucking finger, before smearing the excess across her tits.

The next time I look over at Lance he's still kicked back with his feet up, but now he's naked. Once again, I'd been so entranced by what Chrissy was doing, that I hadn't seen him moving. And once again he's slowly stroking his thick cock as it juts above his washboard abs. He's apparently finished the joint, as I only see the unsmoked one on the ashtray's edge. His margarita glass sits on top of my guitar table, within easy reach.

He catches me looking at him and smiles. To Chrissy, he says, "Well, this is indeed one hell of a good blowjob show. I'm ready to forgive you, baby."

It finally strikes me how often he's been referring to my wife as 'baby'. Before I can consider what that means, Chrissy regains my attention by releasing my cockhead from the grip of her throat and then pulling away completely. There's a wide smile on the harem girl's face when she sees she's pleased the Sheikh.

"But I think you need to do just a little bit more to properly apologize to Bryan," Lance continues.

I figure he means she should finish me off. Which means, in turn, that I'll be accepting her apology with an explosion of cum in just another ten to twenty seconds if she goes back to sucking me, while her finger keeps wriggling in my ass.

But then he says, "Take it all."

'

Take it all

?' It just doesn't track; she's already taken all of me.

The smile on Chrissy's face also seems to have been replaced with puzzlement.

"Take it all," Lance repeats firmly. "Take all his cock. And his balls. Together."

Her one eye that I can see widens in its socket.

"Show us how good you've gotten at opening wide." The order is clear.

She straightens her head, but never looks up at me, only down at my cock which has become a piece she must fit into a puzzle. Her hand moves from in front of my balls, to behind them. They rest on the webbing between her thumb and forefinger and she squeezes them forward, like flattening a tube of toothpaste from the bottom.

When I gasp, she finally looks up at me, as if just now realizing there's a person attached to the package she's supposed to stuff into her mouth. With a little apologetic shrug of the shoulders, she backs off a bit on the squeezing. I give her a small nod and resume breathing.

Her left hand is interfering a bit now, so she pulls her finger out of my ass. She bobs up and down slowly a few times, lapping my cockhead with her tongue. Then she gets serious with the challenge in front of her.

She's already been all the way down to my root, so has no problem bumping her bottom lip up against my gathered scrotum. She also manages to get the tip of her tongue to actually come out and lap at my sack, while the head of my cock rests at the opening of her throat. I'm ready to forgive her anything right then and groan to let her know so.

She yanks her mouth off me and palms my cockhead firmly to stop my orgasm. I stare at her in shock, then almost in anger. I'm about to grab the back of her head and rape her mouth until I finish, when I hear Lance speak up in a strong voice.

"Wait, Bryan! Wait." Then in a calmer voice. "Good girl, Chrissy." After another moment's pause, "Is he ready again?" A slight nod from my wife. "Then go ahead."

She returns me to her mouth and again bobs up and down, sliding her lips from corona to balls and back. But very slowly and gently. She's clearly trying to restore my erection without sending me over the edge. While she does this, Lance speaks to me.

"She has to finish the task you've set her, Bryan. You can never let her refuse or all her training's wasted."

'

The task

I've

set her

?' '

Her training

?' 'What the fuck?!'

"Besides," Lance continues, switching the tone of his voice from seminar to locker room. "I can tell you're ready to blow the back of her fuckin' head off. But wouldn't you rather save that first massive explosion for another place you've been yearning for?"

Hell, the way I'm feeling, I doubt my cock will even go down after I fill her belly and I'll be ready to take my first plunge into her shitter in no time. But he is right that the amount of cum the second time around will be a lot less. She's been teasing me so much with her ass all week that I really want to pump her full and see my creampie not only oozing, but gushing out of her gaping asshole.

This guy's a year, maybe two, younger than me. How the hell has he gained all this tantric knowledge, wisdom and control? Had

Mrs. Robinson

gotten a hold of him when he was still a teenager? I nod my head to say that I'm back in control of myself and ready to follow his guidance.

Chrissy's lips are once again pressed up against my balls, but with no tongue-tickling this time. Then, just like that, they're inside her mouth. I feel my cockhead pressing against her epiglottis, while her lips form a seal around my rod. The pull on my nutsack is tight, but it's pain on the right side of pleasure.

After what's probably no more than four or five seconds, although it sure feels longer, she's pulling back and gasping. Her head is far enough back for me to see some of her face and now

she

looks like the angry one. She stares fire at my cock, gathers up a mouthful of saliva and spits it viciously along its top. Her left hand slides up and down through the mess, while her right continues pressing my ballsack upwards.

Two long, slow breaths, then she holds the third and slides down, hardly stopping except to force her mouth open that last little bit needed to get my family jewels locked in her oral vault. I don't know how long she stays this time, but it's long enough for me to register awe at the control of both her gag reflex and her breathing.

When she comes up for air this time, she isn't gasping nearly as hard and seems both relaxed and excited. Apparently, she's reached the necessary spiritual or mental state, the one that allows your libido to override your body's natural responses to having your windpipe blocked with cock.

Her third trip down ends with my balls slipping right in like she's sucking oysters off the half shell. As she flexes her throat muscles, she begins pulling back rhythmically on my balls with the ring of her lips and I get the unmistakable impression that she wants this to end with a bellyful of cum after all.

That's just fine with me and I start to give in and let myself savour both the incredible feelings and the nasty thoughts until my seed flows.

But, again, our Guru is having none of it. This time

she

gets his stern voice. "Chrissy!"

No, 'Stop.' No nothing else. Just her name. Just once. But that's all it takes.

Slowly she pulls back, reluctantly letting my balls free of both her mouth and her squeezing hand. Then she's off my cock and straightening up on her knees and I can see her full face for the first time since she started.

It carries a huge smile as she turns to look at Lance and I have a sudden image of a little girl bursting from the water at the end of the pool where her father waits on the side. Her little face grinning up at him, beaming in pride at having met his challenge of swimming all the way to the other end and back underwater.

Again, I want to pull her head back and rape her mouth. Rape it until

I

am done, until

I

am satisfied.

But the Guru's voice is calm and approving once again.

"That's our girl. That was definitely one of, if not the hottest blowjobs I have ever seen. You are one lucky man, Bryan. Imagine being able to have her take you like that in her mouth whenever you want. And you won't have to hold back. You'll be able to shoot your load straight down her throat and into her belly. And she'll love it when you do. Won't you baby?"