Hazel Plays With Fire Ch 01

This story continues 'The Adventures of Hazel'.

To learn more about the main characters I'd suggest reading the first two chapters.

This story includes aspects that take some inspiration from a story and an author long gone from Literotica.

If he ever reads this I hope he thinks I have done them justice.

This can be read alone but shares a few characters with my other stories.

If you like this one then please do check out the others.

Our New Life

Things moved with a new rhythm.

Hazel still did the occasional web-show though the real thing was rapidly replacing her old game of just playing at being a 'hot-wife'.

Every couple of weeks she had a 'girl's night' with Vicky, her female lover. All I knew was that Vicky took the lead in their love-making. She also took Hazel to lesbian bars and clubs where she could parade her little 'trophy slut', as she called Hazel, and find new playmates for them both to enjoy.

I got to enjoy an evening alone with Hazel about as regularly. We did the standard things that a couple do. We cooked and ate dinner, we watched TV, we went out for meals, we made love. In the chaos of the rest of our relationship they were always precious times for me and I believe for both of us.

Then there was Denzel, the guy I'd arranged for her to fuck. Her first extra-marital partner, if you didn't count me. He'd had my number and got back in touch to find out if "everything was OK." (Translation - "Did I put my baby in your girlfriend's belly?") I was vaguely impressed - we hadn't even got his name that night and most guys don't like the idea of paying child-support for the next 18 years. Denzel had fronted up like a real man and so he became part of the 'team' too.

My job was increasingly crazy and I had to take work-trips, sometimes abroad, for up to a week at a time. However, when the idiot Steve - Hazel's useless lay-about husband - was away on one of his, usually unpaid, acting jobs Hazel wanted, 'to go out and play.'

If I was there - great. We'd go into the city to a gig, a dance club or wherever Hazel could flaunt her fine sexy self. If there were hard dicks and men looking for a place to park them then my girl went there and hunted out the prime specimens. I'd be there to make sure things didn't get too out-of-hand. But generally the guys were very happy to be asked to fuck the sexiest girl there and we had no real trouble.

If I wasn't there then she went out with Denzel and his friends - a fun, uninhibited, bunch of four men and six girls. The personnel changed over time. The guys fucked Hazel a few times and then didn't want to share her. I didn't blame them but they had to go. Denzel lasted six months - I felt for him. This life-style isn't for everyone. Finally there were four girls left, they called themselves 'the girls' and God help any man who fell into their clutches. I knew they were safe together as they looked after each other and generally had a 'boyfriend' or two in tow to help with anyone who got out of line.

I bought a flat in the city. That flat got a lot of action when 'the girls' took their catch of the night back to party. I was friends with them all but nothing more, there was only one woman for me.

My credit card took a battering as Hazel developed quite the wardrobe of clothing and accessories. Being a slutty chav-ette suited some occassions but as her slut-hood developed she realised she could tailor her image to suit her location and targets.

I'd find myself standing beside an alley at one in the morning listening to a big tattooed meathead ramming his dick into the girl I was coming to believe was the love of my life until she yelled for him to fuck her harder and he filled his condom. I'd settle down in the flat to the rhythmic noise of bed-springs as Hazel took another new partner and wrung his balls dry. Or I'd get home to four naked women fucking four guys I'd never seen before. Life was never boring.

But Hazel had a problem. First, she was still a bloody school-teacher. Sooner or later the brown stuff was going to hit the proverbial fan and she'd be in the Sunday papers. 'Miss Slut fucks every man in three counties,' or something like that. Sure, I could afford to help her out if that happened but her husband, Steve, basically lived in her house and off her earnings. If she got sacked and I wasn't there to help then they would both be royally screwed.

More importantly, at least to Hazel, she could only 'go out to play' at most a couple of times a week. Even after I'd used some contacts to find Steve as many acting gigs as possible as far away as possible he was still cramping her style. His family were also a bunch of total arseholes. There started to be talk of grand-children and Steve bringing Hazel 'home' so that she could quit her job and raise his kids like a good religious wife should.

Hazel simmered under this pressure for months. Then she decided to solve the situation. Would she do what they wanted? - No. Would she get rid of me and Vicky? - No, thank God. Would she stop slutting around? - Not in a million years. So, there was only one solution...

An Angry Woman is a Dangerous Thing

"It's time he took the fucking hint," Hazel said with determination. It was obvious that her marriage was dead, it just needed both sides to recognise the fact and then everyone could move on to something better. But Steve seemed blissfully unaware of any problems. He treated Hazel like a moron. Any issues would sort themselves out in time, they didn't need to be dealt with. He was wandering about on a big keg of dynamite with the fuse lit and he didn't even know it. I had my suspicions - he was living quite happily in his wife's house and off his wife's money. Why would he want things to change?

"I have to tell him who I really am," Hazel declared, her teeth gritted. Oh shit, this was not going to be pleasant. Steve was so boring and buttoned-up that he'd probably have a heart attack or worse.

I drove her down to her house that day - she had been staying with me for the previous week. The idea was that her absence might force Steve to wake up and smell the proverbial coffee. The journey was silent, not two words were spoken. I parked three doors down and did what she'd asked. As she reached for the door I gave her a worried look. "You sure you don't want me to put him in the picture. You sure this will go alright?"

Her chin was set, "No, just the opposite - I'm sure that it won't. In fact it'll be a total shit-show. But it has to happen and I have to be the one to make Steve understand that."

One deep breath and she was out of the car. I watched her totter down their driveway and, I'm ashamed to say, my dick got hard.

It wasn't the fact that I was stealing another man's wife - that wasn't something that I had ever planned on doing. I knew that tonight was going to hit Steve hard and however I felt about him I didn't view that with an easy conscience. He would probably blame me - why wouldn't he? He would think that I had corrupted his sweet innocent wife. I couldn't deny at least 'enabling' her to take the path she had taken. However, she HAD chosen that path for herself and ultimately it was Steve's complacency and neglect that had set her off on it.

No, what had my cock hard wasn't the situation, it was what Hazel was wearing as she went to confront her husband.

She had decided complete honesty was the only way to break Steve's complacency. He needed to know just how much of a slut she had become. He needed to know that she was no longer the girl he had married and her choice of outfit was designed with that in mind.

Hazel was wearing a knee-length black leather coat and when she took it off Steve would have to be an idiot not to see something was up. Hugging her arse was a tiny black latex mini-skirt which barely hid her pussy. No panties today of course. Only a few inches of fishnet-clad thigh were on show because she wore shiny black stretch-leather thigh-high boots with 5-inch stiletto heels.

Above her mini-skirt and a strip of exposed tight flat belly was a red latex corset-style top that sat under her beautifully-formed tits and deliciously lifted them while leaving them completely exposed, hence the need for the coat. A silver chain linked her bare breasts, held in place by clips on her nipples.

But that wasn't all. Her pretty face was painted like a cheap whore with bright red lipstick, long fake lashes and heavy dark eye make-up. Her hair was dyed platinum blonde and carefully coaxed into the definitive 'just fucked' look.

As she disappeared inside I settled down to wait. To wait for what I knew was inevitable. It had to happen but I was not looking forward to it.

Finally my phone pinged and I dragged my ass out of the car and over to their house. I carried a case so we could collect some clothing. Hazel had always kept clothing at mine but it most definitely wasn't suitable for her work and the new school term was imminent.

As I approached the door it flew open and the first thing I saw was a very angry Hazel. "Turn round - we're going out," she snapped.

Well I wasn't planning on staying and it seemed I wouldn't be welcome anyway.

"Fuck off you dirty perverted bastard," screamed Steve as he saw me over Hazel's shoulder. What the fuck have you been trying to do to my Hazel!"

"Listen to me," she screamed back at him. "I told you this isn't about him. Its about you and me and why there isn't a you and me any more." I'd never seen her like this before. She was incandescent with rage. "I've had enough of your shit. I want to go out and get what I want and I'm not sure what that is but it certainly isn't you."

"Hazel, come inside. This has all been put in your head by that lying bastard. You are my wife and I want you back in my house."

Hazel looked at him and then turned on her heel. She strode past me and straight to the car with her heels clicking on the concrete. Steve and I exchanged a look of mutual hatred before he finally shouted, "I'll wait for you to see sense and come home." Then he retreated back into the house and I let out a long breath before joining Hazel in the car.

Well it had given the neighbours a free show but one thing was for certain - Plan A had not been a success.

In the car Hazel was still seething with rage. She slapped the dashboard hard with her hand and then turned to me. "He won't see how things are and he won't listen to me. When I tried to tell him who I am he ignored me and told me that he knew they were lies you had invented for me to tell him. So I decided to show him the photographs and videos I keep on my phone. He just refused to look at them - said they were fakes produced by you. He's fucking unbelievable!"

I'll be frank. I didn't like the way Steve leeched off Hazel but I hadn't been the one to suggest they should end it. I didn't need this kind of drama. However, it had been obvious for a while that things could not go on as they had been. Ultimately, it had always been Hazel's call and it still was.

"So what do we do now?"

I'd never seen her look so determined. "He's going to have to be told in a way that he can't ignore and that proves to him that he doesn't want me anymore." She shook a little and I saw that under that determination she was scared. I reached out to her but she shook her head. Despite her foul mood she smiled grimly. "I'm pretty sure you won't like it either. I'll drive because I think I know where I can get what I need." She changed her boots and we were on our way.

Hazel Gets What She Needs

Perhaps it was the distraction of the outfit she was wearing. Either way, I was incredibly slow on the uptake. Even when we got to the city, even when we took that same wrong turning from months before. It was only when we pulled up outside that shabby

two-story building, and I saw the lights spelling out 'The Pit,' that I knew just how much trouble we were probably getting into.

"Hazel," I pleaded, "please think about it."

"I have - I'm sorry", she'd already put her boots back on and was tottering towards her destiny. Fear gripped me but I couldn't let her go in there alone. I followed.

As I entered the dark room I saw pretty much every face turned towards us. Of course they'd seen her first. Me, they were less happy about. There were perhaps thirty or forty people in 'The Pit' and calling it a rat-hole would be generous. A big bar, battered old furniture and graffiti tags on the walls as decoration. This was after the smoking ban but it didn't seem to apply here. The air was pretty thick with smoke, from both tobacco and weed. Every male in the place was Black and I was aware that every male in the place wanted to kick my ass out. The only other whites there were two young woman serving behind the bar and a heavily tattooed stripper gyrating on the small stage opposite the front door.

"Nothin' here for you, best leave while you can," broke the silence. It came from a man as he slowly stood from his seat at a table next to the bar. There were bigger guys there and much more scary guys but this man was clearly the boss. He was only my height and maybe not quite my weight, his coal-Black skin didn't have the gaol-house home-made tattoos that many of the others had, but as he'd started to speak the bar had gone quiet. Even the stripper's music had stopped. This guy emanated power and command. In another life he'd have been a General or the King of a warrior-tribe. As it was, he ran a scruffy drinking-hole and the activities that operated out of it.

It hadn't been a threat - it had just told us the situation. I was ready to fuck off at pace but Hazel was too angry, or too naive, to abandon her mission.

She stood in front of the meanest bunch I had ever seen and said in a cool, clear, voice, "You do have what I need and I'm here to get it."

The man chuckled, "No police are coming in here and buying anything from anyone. This is a respectable establishment," he cast his arms out wide to the laughter of his customers, "what could we have that you need, little bitch."

Hazel flushed slightly at the insult but replied quick as a flash, "Big Black cocks."

The place went into uproar. Guys were jumping up and shouting, others were laughing, it was immediately obvious that she wouldn't lack for volunteers if it came to it.

The Boss Man raised his hand and silence slowly returned. "OK, make your case."

"My husband won't believe that I'm a slut so that I can get a divorce from him. I need three of your guys to come over and prove to him just what a dirty little whore I am."

The Boss Man turned to scrutinise me for the first time and I saw a long knife scar on the left side of his face. He gave me a cold smile, "You the husband." I shook my head and stammered a reply.

"He just looks after me," explained Hazel.

"Doing a bang-up job there soldier", said Boss Man with another bleak smile, "if I'd chose not to be here today then you two would most likely be missing person stats by tomorrow." He cocked his head to one side and came to a decision. "Fucking a little bitch ain't illegal, yet at least. So I don't see why we can't help you out. Any preference - afraid we only come in one colour. That's sorta the point," and he gestured to a banner on the wall which read 'the Niggaz'.

Oh shit, it was a gang hang-out. But with any luck we could still get out of there with three of them and that would be it.

Then I heard Hazel say it, "I don't care, except I want you of course." Oh shit, I thought, this man might be a lot easier to get into your life than to get out of it.

"Of course," Boss Man took it as inevitable that she'd pick him. "No light-skinned brothas come in here so we're all good and Black for you. Guess you'd like a couple of the meanest-looking motherfuckas so will Delroy and Jadon do for you." He pointed at two huge guys on the next table and his mocking smile was back.

"They're perfect," she agreed.

"Fucking far from it, but they'll enjoy resizing your holes for you. Now where's this bitch husband of yours," and putting an arm round Hazel's shoulders he helped her totter back to the car with his two friends in tow and me trailing behind to the jeers of the rest of the Pit's inmates.

In the time it took to cross a few yards of waste ground one guy was groping her tit and another had his hand up her skirt. I knew my place and pulled the car seat forward so the three of them could climb in the back. I got in the driving seat and Boss Man rode shotgun. I was surprised he'd left Hazel to the others but it seemed he wasn't in a hurry.

It was generally a 30-minute journey back to the house where an unsuspecting Steve was waiting for his wife. I did it in 20 and Hazel spent the whole journey laid across the laps of the two guys in the back. One was sucking on her titties and playing with her fake nipple rings. The other soon had fingers in Hazel's pussy and was working on her good. Boss Man just turned the rear-view mirror so he could observe what was going on. "Need to get them nipples done - get rid of that fake shit," was all he said on the journey.

We bundled through the front door of Hazel's house and Steve's eyes bugged out, "What's going on. Who are these..."

"You still think I was joking," Hazel said, her hand stroking Boss Man's large bulge through his trousers. "Well you are about to find out different. Get upstairs because it seems with you only seeing is believing."

Steve hesitated.

"We ain't asking", Boss Man growled with a baleful glare. He was not a man that you risked misunderstanding or contradicting. Even the hapless Steve could see that. Hazel's husband, perhaps for the first time realising his whole world was about to collapse, led the way upstairs and into the bedroom where he took refuge in the farthest corner. I just stood in the doorway. This was Hazel's show.

"I need to see your cocks," said Hazel. She'd lost most of her clothes in the car and now she rapidly peeled off the rest before dropping to her knees.

Boss Man only really had an inch or two more than me but, surprisingly, he was the smallest of the three. Delroy had a good ten inches, though clearly thinner than Boss Man's, while Jadon was a monster. He was 6 foot 10 and built like a brick shithouse with a dick to match. It looked a foot long and about as thick as Hazel's fore-arm. I exaggerate but not by much.

Hazel just stared. She was no shrinking violet but nothing had quite prepared her for this or for the sight of Jadon's huge Black cock. For a moment she seemed intimidated but then her excitement swamped any such misgivings. It didn't take a genius to see she was fascinated by those three big Black cocks. Perhaps fascinated wasn't the word. Perhaps infatuated was. You could see the lust take her over and after licking her lips she reached out and touched Jadon's mighty shaft.

Jadon wasn't complaining and he also wasn't patient. "Suck it bitch," he demanded.

She didn't need telling twice.

She opened her mouth wide, to match her eyes, and took him into her mouth. Within seconds she seemed completely devoted to worshipping that Black cock and her head began to bob up and down eagerly. The contrast of his deep-Black cock against her pretty white face was incredible to watch. I felt my cock stiffening in my pants.

I glanced at Steve and saw that he looked to be in shock.

Hazel pulled back off the huge Black cock and looked back up at Jadon with her eyes wide and sparkling with lust. She kept hold of his cock as she turned her head and opened her mouth for Boss Man's cock. That should have been easier to manage but he had other ideas. He grabbed her head and she gagged as he tried to make her take his meat down her throat. Then he fucked Hazel's face hard, showing no concern for her, before holding his dick all the way in. Hazel's nose was buried against his Black flesh. She struggled to pull off but he wouldn't let her - only when he was good and ready did he pull out and throw her to the floor, leaving her retching and spluttering.