Every Picture Tells A Story Pt 03

Every picture tells a story: Part 3

Note to readers:

Read Parts 1 & 2 first, you will enjoy this so much more if you do.

Mary continued her sexual encounters with Bill, how far would he push us this time?

As usual, it does not fit easily into a single category.

*****

My phone chimed. It was Bill, my best friend. "Hey," I said, putting the phone to my ear.

I heard the now familiar sounds of a woman's cries of ecstasy, grunts and cries of passion, the unmistakable sounds of her gagging, and the slapping of wet skin on skin. "Oh, god, yes! Give me your tasty cock! Mmm, mmm, mmm," she begged, then gagged again.

"Suck it, you dirty slut. Oh, yes, suck that big dick!" Bill said repeatedly.

"Mmm, mmm, oh, god, I love your cock!" she cried, gasping for air.

"Is your pussy ready for my big cock, you cheating whore?" Bill taunted.

"Yes! Fuck me, Bill! Please, give your cock to me now. I want you to fill my pussy with your thick cock!"

That is my wife's voice. The first time I heard her climax on the phone, she didn't know Bill had called, unaware he was exposing her like that. This time I knew, it was her idea.

"Oh yeah, it feels so good. Oh, faster, faster. OH!" I heard her say.

Yes, that was Mary, my wife. Having the time of her life!

"Pete? I heard Bill ask, "Can you hear us? Are you hard, Pete? Is this making you hard?"

"Yeah, Bill, my cock is rock hard," I confessed.

"Oh, my god, yes! Harder! Fuck me! Fuck me!" Mary begged shamelessly. She does this low-pitched jazz-singer voice when she's excited. Honest to God, it drives me crazy. Then, I heard her squeal. Bill was really giving it to her.

"Pete? I'm fucking your wife!" he boasted. Then Bill asked, "Are you hard, Pete? Are you stroking your hard cock?"

I remember watching my gorgeous wife take Bill's cock in her pussy and obviously enjoying every minute of it, the expression on her face then, the sounds she was making now, sensual, joyful, and satisfied.

"Yeah, Bill, I'm stroking my cock while you fuck my wife. Fuck her good, Bill! Fuck that pussy good, then send her home!" I demanded.

"You got it, bro!" Bill promised. I heard the phone tumble to the floor, but the sounds continued.

It was Mary's suggestion that we re-enact this event, only this time with a happier ending, so to speak. She thought it might help us with closure on a painful memory. It was certainly hot. I hadn't realized I had a voyeur streak in me, but listening to her now, as another man was fucking her, was extremely arousing. The fact that she knew I was listening and consented--I even encouraged her--was sensual and provocative to me on some primitive level. As if she were performing for me. In any case, she'd be home in under an hour, sweaty and used but ready to fuck her husband. I'd try to hold my orgasm in until then.

*****

"Bill's bringing a date?" Mary asked, shocked.

We lived in a small city known for a high-tech university. People (nerds) graduated but stayed in town, making the population very educated but socially retarded. Douchebag frat boys (of all ages, even old men) and entitled sorority sisters as far as the eye could see. There was also a stratification between natives, mostly craftsmen, laborers, and the degreed snobs who looked down on them. There are some very charming small towns in America, but this one held the stink of elitism to it.

Since Mary and I reconciled and continued our sexual encounters with Bill, a few notable things have resulted from it. We were seen with Bill in public more and more, and he was affectionate to Mary on occasion, but that only seemed to generate rumors about our relationship. People talked about us, stared, and pointed. Small-minded people spread gossip. For instance, Mary had the day off from class and met Bill at his office for lunch. I got an anonymous text even before she got home that they had been fucking behind my back, and I was a cuck husband. I showed it to her, and she laughed at first, commenting, "You are no cuck..."---then, more seriously--"Pete, you know it was just lunch, right?" she confirmed.

"Of course I do," I assured her, but the incident made us more cautious. The constant pressure of eyes on us was uncomfortable, at least.

Then there was the student incident.

Mary told me that after class, one student approached her, smirking and suggesting that since she liked cheating on her husband...

He tried to corner her, and she activated the "Blue Light" app on her phone. It's an anti-rape phone app where the victim keeps her thumb on the phone screen, and if contact is lost for a second, the campus police are summoned. It was enough to get him to back down. A call to the president of the college followed, and he was kicked out of the program, lost his dorm spot, and was last seen at a bus station.

Bill met him there. When I say "last seen"... well, you get the picture.

Bill, and to a point Mary, had a seemingly innate understanding of human nature. I, being more analytical, was often blind to the animal side of our personalities. The wolf in Bill knew he had to send a message to the pack, and after that event, the pack was more respectful.

The other ironic thing was Mary and I didn't have a repeat encounter with Bill. All of us seemed to have been changed, emerging more...whole. There were a few trysts between Mary and Bill, the last one you just heard, but only a few, as their hot desire for each other seemed to have cooled.

We had talked about it. I was OK with it now, and it just never seemed to be a priority for us.

I moved the revenge picture I had of Bill hanging in our garage to our basement. A while ago, I had caught Bill and Mary having an affair. My revenge was to have Mary take a picture of him sucking my cock and use that picture to taunt him.

Why make him suck my cock? I had idolized Bill, and he'd tease that my admiration was actually homosexual desire, even justifying his affair with my wife, Mary, as part of my (imagined) cuckold fantasy. It seemed poetic justice to turn the tables.

That humiliating picture of Bill seemed a more fitting revenge than if I made him surrender his prized monster truck to me or even kicked him out of our lives completely. Oh, and no, we're not gay.

Also, I think Bill, at least the wolf part of his brain, knew that rolling over and showing me his soft underbelly was akin to submitting to me, the pack leader. Bill did it twice more to be with Mary. I never asked him to, but in fact, I never felt jealous of him and Mary after that.

The only reason I was the "pack leader" was that Mary loved me. The power of a beautiful woman, right?

We used to utilize the basement room for TV and movie night, and it was our exercise room too. Having that picture there seemed to make changes subliminal for both of us. Well, Mary loved the audacious giant poster of naked Bill in our house. It got her motor running--that much was true. And Bill, the exhibitionist, loved coming over to work out under a giant picture of himself. That seemed to happen less and less recently, as Bill's life moved in a different direction than ours.

*****

Then one day Bill called out of the blue, and suggested we meet him in Tennessee for a resort weekend and distillery tours. Mary, of course, was thrilled, and since we were returning from Oregon that week anyway, it made sense to arrange a stopover.

We arrived at the resort early and were sipping fine bourbon in a lobby cafe when Bill's taxi arrived. He and a woman emerged.

"Bill's bringing a date?" Mary repeated, still not believing.

Bill and the woman walked up to us. She was the image of a young Dolly Parton, blonde and buxom, in her sequined jeans and denim vest. I did a double take--the resemblance was so striking.

She offered her hand. "Darla Parton," she said as she greeted us. Then, sighing, resigned, "Get it out of your system." The woman rolled her eyes. "I've been hearing it my whole life." Her Tennessee accent didn't spoil the illusion.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not much of a country music fan," I admitted, and Darla smiled. By the end of the evening, I would become addicted to her smile.

Bill told us about Darla. She was the youngest owner of a horse ranch and estate and one of the few females in that business. Her horses were famous for rodeos, shows, and even polo. Darla was the boss of dozens of trainers, cowboys, and roughnecks. When she spoke, her voice was calm, strong, and assured.

Darla was charming and stunningly beautiful, showing a fit physique, delicate feminine features, and warm, laughing eyes. She moved like a princess, back straight, eyes forward, with delicate grace and determination. She was easy to like. Mary quickly moved past the puzzlement and even the twinge of jealousy we both had felt that Bill would seemingly invite a fourth into our threesome.

As usual, Bill was pushing us both out of our comfort zones. We would soon find out how far he was willing to go.

Mary and I had anticipated a wild sexual weekend with Bill. As we like to do, we refrained from sex ahead of time, instead teasing and tempting each other but delaying any climax until the big night. The resort Bill picked offered secluded cabins and a discreet staff. And we would soon discover there was more.

After introductions and stowing our luggage, a car met us out front and whisked all four of us away to Bourbon Country. There, we sampled excellent food and even better whiskeys and bourbon, at several restaurants and two major distilleries. I was grateful for the car returning us to the resort, as even taking tiny sips, after a dozen different varieties of bourbon, aged from 10 years to 25, different grains, aging styles, barrels made from a variety of woods, heavenly stuff, I felt more than a slight buzz.

We arrived back at the resort by mid-afternoon. Bill suggested, "Go change into something comfortable and meet us in the garden in 30 minutes."

Waiting for us in our room were two luxurious full-length white robes, matching soft slippers, and two small medallions on leather strings. A small card accompanied each one, cream-colored and sporting fine gold calligraphy.

It read, "Welcome to the garden. This is your key. Discretion is assured and required. Clothing is discouraged."

I examined the small medallion. It was white plastic that looked like ivory., In the light, there was a tiny iridescent circle, but as you turned it, you could see an arrow pointing out from the center, like the symbol for a man, then a cross, the symbol for a woman, but they radiated from the center like hands of a clock, and there were several of them. Male, Female, Male, Male, Female, Female, etc. in the circle. We weren't sure what the medallions did, but Mary put one on my neck, and I returned the favor, pretending they were gold medals in the Olympics.

We stripped and donned the robes and slippers, and then left our room for the elevator. Mary looked incredibly sexy clutching her robe around her slinky nude body, and it was hard to keep my hands off her.

Once outside, Mary noticed a small white circle matching our medallion on the wall opposite our room, but with a single arrow pointing down the hall. We followed to an unmarked door, the symbol next to a plate on the wall. The door was locked, but Mary touched her medallion to the matching symbol on the wall, and the door opened.

Beyond the door was a private elevator. The door slid open silently as we approached. Mary and I entered, a tiny light on the doors turned from amber to green, and they closed behind us. There were no buttons. Gently, it began to ascend.

The doors slid open onto the rooftop. When viewed from the outside, it became evident that the entire top floor was a complete facade. The roof was a giant garden, with tables, and paths laid off in several directions, and there was a lazy river--we could see the steam rising as it twisted by.

Looking around, I saw several couples, many nude or carrying towels, appearing and disappearing from trails partially hidden by lush plants. There was a partial canopy overhead, with green vines and flowers hanging down, but it was open in spots to let in sunlight. It was amazing, so inviting and beautiful.

A pair of attendants approached, a man and a woman. She wore a black leather halter top that seemed to accentuate her breasts more than hide them and a short matching skirt. The man was shirtless and very fit, wearing a matching short kilt/loincloth; they both wore laced-up sandals.

The woman spoke first. "Welcome to the Garden, Mary and Pete. Most guests start with a relaxing swim in our river. The water is from a natural hot spring. New water arrives at 104 degrees and is refreshed every few hours. You will find the high mineral content naturally buoyant; it will relax and invigorate you." They took our robes, handed us each a large drink that smelled of rum, pineapple, and mango, and helped us into the water. Quickly, we found we could lean back easily. It was helpful that the cocktails were in containers that would float and not tip over.

Mary held my hand, and we floated naked down the river. I could feel hidden jets of water and bubbles propelling us around completely effortlessly. Soft, forest sounds followed us, with the quietest snips of conversations and even erotic encounters. We were relaxed almost immediately. I could see the attraction, floating naked, legs spread, watching as other naked couples drifted past. Each of us was exposed and not shy about checking out each other. After a while it was very comfortable, a little erotic, and lots of guys sported semi-hard dicks as they exited the water.

Bill was waiting for us at the end, muscular and naked--it seemed his natural state. The attendants brought us warm towels and fresh cocktails, and Bill led us over to where Darla waited, reclining on a wicker double lounge chair, like a wavy couch with no back. She had a towel draped over her, although it accentuated her figure more than anything. She looked up, smiling warmly, and invited Mary to join her. Bill and I sat nearby.

Bill started telling me how they'd met, and his exploring her ranch and the area. I tried to listen, but I was fascinated by the activity all around us. Young couples were everywhere, some kissing, getting massages, a small group nearby doing what looked like naked yoga, and some couples even engaged in obvious foreplay or outright sex. I watched a young man with a large cock pull it out of his girl's mouth and push her down onto all fours, moving behind her. They seemed to enjoy drawing attention to themselves. Two other couples observed from nearby, one woman openly stroking the hard dick of her partner.

All the naked bodies casually strolling around--it was extraordinary how wonderful simple public nudity felt. I took a deep breath and let my brain reset.

"... Not really a sex club, more geared to couples nudism and exhibitionism than swapping, as you can see. I think Mary will really enjoy her time here... It's her thing, you know," Bill was saying.

When he mentioned Mary, I glanced over only to see her and Darla sitting very close. They faced each other, taking turns whispering in each other's ears, lips grazing each other's cheeks, and occasionally one of them or the other would softly lick an earlobe or the lips of the other. I knew what Mary looked like as she was being seduced: it was happening. Mary had her hand on Darla's closest breast, idly tracing her fingertips along its perky curve, lightly brushing her nipple. Darla had her free hand high up Mary's inner thigh, slowly edging up, higher and higher.

Two beautiful women, unhurriedly and timidly explored new sexual grounds together. I found myself becoming erect just watching them and quickly glanced around to see if it was noticed. In fact, there were several men nearby with erections swinging free or else being stroked or kissed by their female partners. All sizes and shapes, with this audience I was completely normal.

I heard Bill's voice whispering in my ear: "... I'm selling my business and moving up here. Darla invited me to live with her at her ranch..." he explained, but I barely heard him, my attention was elsewhere.

Now, Mary had her hands on Darla's head, caressing her, and they were kissing passionately. Darla's hand was openly massaging Mary's pussy, making wet, sloppy sounds over her soft moaning. I looked around, and several couples had stopped to watch.

As far as I knew, Mary had never expressed any interest in a lesbian affair, but watching her now, I could see it wasn't the sex but the audience of voyeurs getting her aroused. I could hear people commenting on how sexy they looked and how hot it was to watch. I could see that Mary was encouraged, exposed, and shameless.

Mary gently pushed Darla back onto her elbows and took one of her nipples into her mouth, her other hand quickly finding Darla's pussy.

The seat Darla had selected was, in fact, near the center of this garden--not accidentally. It seemed both of them enjoyed showing off, as their soft cries and passionate murmurs drew appreciative comments from the gathered couples. Some would wander off to find a secluded area, and others quickly replaced them.

Darla's and Mary's passion seemed to reach a crescendo when they reluctantly pulled back, sitting up, exchanging gentle kisses and tender touches as they separated.

I turned to Bill, aghast, but he was grinning. "I knew Mary would like Darla!" he said, clapping me on the leg.

"Bill, did you set that up for Mary to push her out of her comfort zone?" I asked. It was insanely hot to watch, and I was still shocked that Mary was so aroused by another woman.

"I didn't bring her along to seduce Mary," Bill confessed. "She's here to seduce you."

Just then, Darla came over and took my hand, just as Bill sat next to Mary. He looked over at me. "You don't mind, do you?" he asked. I wasn't sure if he meant me or Mary, but it didn't matter. My wife leaned in and kissed him, passionately.

Bill turned to me, grinning.

"Pete! If you keep your head straight and stay cool, you are in for the best sex of your life!" he boasted, taking Mary's head into his hands and kissing her. "How's my hot lesbian whore? Need a man yet?" he teased her. Mary grabbed his cock and stroked it. "Oh, yes! YES!" she agreed as Bill pulled her close.

Darla led me to a nearby side path, close enough to see Mary and Bill, but out of the direct line of sight of most others. I heard Bill's voice: "Are you ready for my big cock, you wanton slut?!"

Mary replied, "Oh, god, yes! Give me that cock!"

*****

Darla wrapped her arms around me, pulling my body to hers, and kissed me, her tongue snaking past my lips and chasing mine instantly. I was incredibly turned on, but still in a mild state of shock. I have never expressed any interest in another woman, and Mary and I had never discussed it. Even as Bill and Mary's lust-filled voices carried over, me kissing another woman just felt wrong. I struggled to get used to the idea.

Ironic, right?

I felt Darla pull back a little, her eyebrow raised, as if wondering if I was even interested. She was so incredibly hot, so sexy, and naked in my arms; for any man, it was a dream come true.

I could hear Bill and Mary.

"You want my cock?" Bill growled.

"Yes," Mary begged,

"Tell me you want my fucking cock," he demanded.

"I want your big cock in me," Mary whined.

"Where do you want it?"

"In my pussy... I want your hard cock in my hot pussy," she nearly whimpered.

Mary's words were her tacit approval for me to fuck another woman, I guess, but her sexy voice reminded me that I wanted only her.