Prompted by an idea from Cfnmlover84 in the forum.
*
Drink always brought the demon out. "You were flirting with him," I snarled through gritted teeth, biting back the words, the names:
Bitch! Whore! Slut!
A jealous rage clouded my mind, obscuring the dark road ahead. Good that my hands were on the wheel, not about her neck.
"I wasn't," she whimpered. "Please, Dan!"
Right then I hated Trix. She was mine. I saw the way they lusted after her, the way she looked at them. The way she didn't look at me - not any longer. I hated her for knowing my inadequacy, my weakness, my failures. I hated that I loved her and saw only fear of me in her dark, judgemental eyes.
"If I hadn't dragged you out of there," I hissed, "you would've been on your knees, sucking his cock!" I laughed. "Since you love it so much, you can suck mine!" Grabbing her head by her blonde curls, I pulled her down to my crotch. "Do it!"
And with her lips fastened obediently about my stick, I lost control, spinning the car from the road.
Trix screamed. I screamed.
Then nothing.
*
I awoke in a savage forest, dark, windswept and bitterly cold, no sign of Trix, or the car, or the road. I zipped up my fly and tried to stand, but a wave of nausea knocked me to my knees.
At least I wasn't in pain. By some miracle I had survived the car crash without injury, but... I had no idea where I was.
"Hello?" I called, hoping for but not really expecting an answer. "Trix?"
"Hello!"
I swivelled round and saw an elderly man - in his seventies, perhaps - striding towards me through the trees. "Dan, yes? I've looking for you."
I breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank, God! Where am I? What happened? And Trix!"
"She's fine, she's fine. In fact, I'm to take you to her. Do come along!"
He turned and strode off, and I stumbled after. "Wait," I said. "Who are you?" What I couldn't quite bring myself to ask was, "Do you know your fly's undone?" Given the size of the cock dangling from the aperture, he had to know.
"Virgin," he called back cheerfully. "That's what they all call me."
The forest ended at an archway, a road leading beyond to a grant chateau, as if I'd been transported through time and space to Versailles. The palace was full of light and life and music, movement at all the windows, snatches of what sounded almost like an orgy, like the cries of a woman's pleasure.
I hesitated. "What is this place?"
Virgin turned to me, and I was shocked to see him stroking his cock, fully erect now and of porn-star proportions. "Enter in," he said, grinning. "Here be plenty of entering. Can ye hear it? That'll be Trix they're entering..."
"Harder!" a woman's voice cried. Trix's voice. "So big! So fucking big! Harder!"
My heart hammering, I raced up the stone stairs and through the great oak doors, looking around frantically for Trix. The vast marble hall was full of people moving about in groups, chatting, drinking, eating. What was most astonishing was the variety of people, from French aristocracy to Roman centurions, to coal miners and US Air Force and more.
It was a film set. It had to be. There was even a cinema screen against one wall, people crowded around, watching what looked like porn, a generic Adonis ramming a thick cock into a shaven pussy. "Oh, yes!" the starlet cried, turning to look lustfully at the camera. "Hurry! My husband will be home any moment!"
It was Trix, her dark eyes burrowing into my soul. The horror and embarrassment of it! I would have fallen if Virgin hadn't supported me. "Aye, she's a beauty, that one." With one hand spare, he returned to his stroking, gazing in adoration at my wife.
The Adonis grunted, pulling his cock out until only the tip of the formidable shaft was still embedded. "Let him drink my cum from your sweet, tight cunt." The tip withdrew, and creamy cum gushed from the glistening lips and trickled down her thighs.
"Not so tight now," she said, laughing. "I'll hardly feel his tiny prick, now that I've been fucked by a real man."
My head was spinning and I struggled to breathe. Was it really possible? Was that really Trix? My Trix? My Trix had never shaved her pubes like that. But those eyes... That voice...
The betrayal of it! It proved I was right all along. She was a slut. A whore. A bitch. She deserved everything she'd get, as soon as... "Where's the door?" I snarled, looking around. There were many doorways, but none leading outside.
Virgin had shuffled up behind a woman in a French maid costume. She was talking to her friends in an animated fashion, and seemed oblivious to the old man until his cum arced out, splashing onto her skirt and stockings. She whirled round and screeched, "Fuck off, Virgin."
He retreated quickly, but winked happily at me. "She likes it really. Tell me, is she licking her fingers?" He didn't wait for an answer - but he was right. "Come," he said. "I'll find your Trix. To the bathroom!"
*
The door was well labelled, if disappointingly plain for its setting. I left behind the historical film set for a surreal post-modern men's bathroom. The walls of the cubicles were glass. The basins and freestanding toilet bowls were glass. Even the wall to the women's bathroom was glass, the only privacy being the back-to-back nature of the arrangement.
Though they were front-to-front now, all cubicles occupied on both sides, gentlemen standing, ladies sitting, cocks thrust through holes in the glass to meet eager lips, sighs of manly pleasure mixing with moans of womanly delight, accompanied inevitably by the slurping of cocks and the impatient thumping of pelvises against glass.
