Ascending Lauren

This narrative is part of a multi-part story. Reading previous chapters will enhance the reader's understanding of each subsequent installment.

This story showcases wife sharing, cuckolding, lesbian sex. If that is not your thing and you still read on, any emotions it triggers in you, is on you.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are over 18.

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Lauren woke a little past noon to a throbbing headache. Remembering that her friend and coworker had passed out on the couch just hours ago, she crept to the apartment's living area only to discover a nicely folded blanket and a note.

Let myself out. Thanks for a special evening, one filled with surprises and prose. Amy.

Lauren managed a feeble smile through the pulsating pain. It certainly had been a night to remember; or forget, she wasn't sure yet. Dirty dancing, hand job to a stranger, listening to her husband and best friend orgasm at the same time - and in different states, no less. No, not ordinary evening.

After calling both daughters to catch up on their lives, Lauren changed into a soft cotton t-shirt and boxers, ready for a lazy day to nurse the hangover. Grabbing her tablet and yogurt, she curled up on the couch that had seen so much action the night before. Part of her wanted to cringe as she remembered just how slutty she'd been, especially with Max, the bar owner. Not since college had she made out with more than one guy in a day's span. And while she didn't have sex, she came damn close. That's on me, she concluded. Corey may have set the table, but I didn't have to pick up the fork.

Remarkably, given her historically modest demeanor, she felt little shame. Perhaps a bit of remorse for leading those poor guys on. That wasn't like her. Teasing would not have crossed her mind a week ago - intoxicated or not. Clearly the green light from her husband to broaden her horizons had influenced those decisions, cemented by copious amounts of alcohol. She could also not deny the smattering of male attention received over the past couple months had slowly fueled her arousal. At this point she was like a balloon at maximum capacity. A balloon blown up by Corey himself. Lauren also felt unquestionably different today than yesterday. So...

bohemian and avant-garde

.

Lauren dialed Corey's number. It went straight to voice mail. On the rooftop with the AC guys, she guessed. Damn that job! It completely ruined their holiday plans. Tablet on, she tried to become interested in the news of the day, but quickly tired of the violence and politics. Staring blankly at the browser, she recalled yesterday's rather intimate conversation with Amy. With curiosity, she typed in the word "hotwife". The wide range of results surprised her: websites offering photos, videos, literature, and even jewelry associated with the concept. She navigated to a few explicit "sharing the wife" videos. Lauren was not unfamiliar with porn, in fact, Corey and she had watched a few rented DVDs over the years when that medium was in vogue. Yet, it wasn't something she sought out in her free time. Most of her exposure to pornography had involved couples, with the occasional mixed-gender orgy. It never occurred to her that a wife having sex with someone other than her husband was a "

thing

". Having relations with someone other than your spouse was simply cheating, or involved that "swinger" stuff that no one in her Iowan circles talked about.

Lauren opened a blog entitled "Why He Wants to Share". Her inquisitiveness deepened as she learned "hotwifing" was quite a common fetish among men, if myriad stories, films, and online search term counts were any indicator. Attracted by the wide spectrum of emotions experienced when sharing their wives, these men relished the validation of knowing the women choosing to wear their wedding ring was still highly desirable and worthy of being pursued. Beyond their own gratification - which was undeniably a major part of the kink - many also wanted their wives to experience a level of sexual fulfillment they, for whatever reason, could not give them. For these men, pleasure wasn't a one-way street just for them. No, there were many examples of men with physical issues, like low stamina, or psychological issues, such as performance insecurities or premature ejaculation, who were genuinely benevolent. Most wanted to share the experience, to live in the moment; others were content to be told of the details later. Regardless of preference, if their wife wasn't happy, neither were they. Reclamation sex - as the author called it - was especially important in this relationship, providing closure to the event, and a return to normalcy for the couple.

Not surprisingly, Lauren also found many videos with "hotwife" in the title. They were interesting to a point, but none as much as the literature she found. For her, reading about sexual experiences was far more erotic than watching plastic actors in a film with bad lighting. The stories she perused varied in content, some claimed to be true, others fictional. Similarities to the tall tales Corey had conjured up in the past were readily apparent. So her husband wasn't the only one with a twisted imagination. The more she read, the more aroused she became. Amy was dead on. Nasty words significantly enhanced the emotional response to the sex acts themselves.

Lauren pressed the tablet into her waist as she read intently. In doing so, her arms gently brushed against both breasts, thinly covered by the cotton tee. Electricity arced across her nipples and down between her legs, inducing some dampness. She happened upon the retelling of a husband, his wife and two of his best friends on a fishing trip. The woman insisted on going with them, despite their attempts at talking her out of it. The story culminated with an evening campfire, where the wife danced erotically, trying to make them glad she tagged along. Eventually she had sex with the friends in front of her husband, then took hubby back to their tent for some hot one-on-one sex.

As she was drawn into the story, Lauren's hand slipped beneath her boxers, rubbing the folds of her vagina. She closed her eyes as the words from the story played out in her brain. Setting the tablet aside, her now free hand crept under the tee, finding hard and erect nipples. Thighs parted, she probed her moistened canal with one finger, then two. Back arched, the tight thin cotton shirt could barely contain the small breasts straining beneath. The woman in the story was now Lauren, dancing around the campfire, disrobing in front of Corey and two of his coworkers. Her husband watched them through burning embers as she collapsed between the other men, their hands groping and probing her body.

With one hand attacking her slippery hole, the other groped her small breasts. Lauren willed her imagination for more. She was now on her knees, one man driving into her from behind, the other pushing his penis down her throat. That she would find the latter even the least bit erotic surprised her. One summer night after graduating high school, she went down on an overly excited boyfriend in the front seat of his car. Ejaculating just seconds after her mouth had closed over his throbbing shaft, she panicked as gobs of the sticky white stuff blasted down her throat and overflowed out her mouth, causing her to jerk her head back violently into the steering wheel. Needless to say, the date ended, and that guy forever ruined

those

chances for others after him. Campfire Lauren, however, was nowhere near as alarmed as teenage Lauren; Corey's coworkers continued to use her as their plaything.

Masturbating Lauren continued to drill two fingers into her slit, juices flowing heavily now. She kicked off the boxers and placed her feet far apart on the coffee table. A short time later, the orgasm began welling up inside as a decadent and depraved image flashed in front of her. All three men were now standing above, ejaculating their sperm onto her face and breasts, reminiscent of the "money shots" she had seen in those porn videos. Her hips began to buck violently at the thought, as spasms rolled across her body, causing her feet to shake the glass table on which they were planted. The orgasm rolled on, so intense that her torso convulsed uncontrollably as hands squeezed the couch cushions beside her, mouth opened in a silent shriek. Lauren could feel the veins in her neck pulsating as those tiny breasts strained against the thin tee. Weeks of pent-up emotions bubbled inside her, trying to find their way out, until finally erupting as a prolonged, ear shattering scream that resonated loudly through the small apartment.

+++++

Lauren sat silently as her breathing slowed. Not one to frequently masturbate, she thought back to the imagery which had gotten her there. It was only fiction, to be sure, not unlike the stories Corey told all the time. But this time it was

her

imagination, not his. Clearly the image of three men coating her with sperm, um...cum, triggered a most massive orgasm, similar to...Lauren paused, not sure she was ready for where her next thought was taking her...similar to...the ones she experienced during previous stories with fictional extramarital lovers. The clear implication caused her heart to race, but she would not have time to dwell on it.

The ringing phone wrenched Lauren from the deep reflection. It was Corey. The HVAC installation had been a success, but even better, his boss was rewarding him with extra time off to compensate for working the holiday. He would be coming to Miami in just a few days to visit, better late than never. Lauren jumped up off the couch in joy, immediately rattling off all the things they should do while he was in town: the beach, the galleries, restaurants she had found.

Corey echoed her excitement, telling her she could decide; after all, it was

her

town. After getting a rundown on the great cafes in the district, his tone turned slightly more serious. "We also need to talk."

Lauren noted his inflection. "I know", she replied, well aware of what he was alluding to.

"The fantasy phone sex was great, Lauren, but those pictures, those were real."

"I know," she repeated. "And we WILL talk about it, I promise. Can we please just wait until you are here? I have some explaining to do."

Corey thought it over. There was no telling where that conversation would go, and agreed it probably was best to have it in person. Reluctantly, he switched the topic to that of a potential family reunion over the Thanksgiving holiday. Before ending the call, Lauren made sure she had his itinerary and flight information. She made a note to take those days off work and to inventory her pantry for ingredients to Corey's favorite meal. As she thought about a side dish, Lauren blushed. How about a side dish of me, she chuckled? No lie, while he was here she had every intention on feeding her husband's mind AND body.

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Lauren woke the next day with an abundance of energy, her hangover negated by a full 10 hours of sleep. She was chipper and wanted to make the most of the holiday. While contemplating the choices, her phone vibrated with a text from Amy. "Mad at me?"

Lauren immediately called her number. "Why would I be mad at YOU?" she blurted out. "I'm the one who acted out with YOUR friend."

"Yeah, well. I'm the one who jilled to your husband getting his rocks off too. I guess that makes us even."

The two recalled the evening in detail, feigning disgust at each other's behavior. Eventually the conversation turned to plans for the day. Lauren asked if she would care to come over and hang out at the pool with a few seltzers. Not having other plans, Amy readily accepted, noting it would be a perfect time to debut her new thong bikini.

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The pool atop the high-rise was exceptionally busy by mid-afternoon, but that was not unexpected given the holiday. Elementary and high schools were out for the day, and local college students were enjoying the last long weekend of the summer.

Two of those students were in the water, trying to interest others in a game of soft volleyball, when one noticed two attractive women exit the elevator to the sun deck. The first was young, blonde, and drop-dead gorgeous, sporting a barely-there hot pink Brazilian bikini with nothing but strategically placed triangles to hide her wares. The other was much older, but slinky and tight, wearing a more modest snow-white bikini, her midnight black hair pulled back in a ponytail. Tony, a well-built football player from a near-by university, nudged his friend Tommy, nodding in the women's direction. Tommy turned and immediately recognized the mature woman as one whom he tried to hit on recently. Was the blonde her daughter? She was a fox too, but, damn, there was just something about that MILF.

Tony watched the newcomers look for empty lounge chairs. Knowing there were none, he wasted no time in jumping out of the pool and grabbing the boys' towels from the ones they themselves occupied.

"Hi ladies," he gestured, catching their eye. "You can have these two if you'd like. My buddy and I are just hanging out in the water anyway."

Lauren looked in the direction he was pointing and immediately realized he was referring to Tommy. Remembering his persistent flirtation, she futilely glanced around for alternative seating. To her chagrin, Amy readily accepted Tony's offer. He only requested they be able to continue to store their belongings under the chairs.

The young men feigned interest in punching the soft spongy volleyball back and forth across the plastic net strung across the pool. Their real focus now centered on the two women who were judiciously applying sunscreen to every inch of their delectable exposed skin. After allowing them to settle in, Tony slid out of the water under the guise of reapplying sunscreen.

"Need to keep those blisters away, you know," he smiled broadly, slowly coating his massive chest and legs with coconut smelling oil.

Amy pretended not to notice the young athlete in front of her but did a lousy job of it. She could not help but leer at his powerful legs, built from many hours of football practice, and the large bulge revealed by the wet, clingy suit. Lauren noticed her friend's not so subtle stares. "You need to cool down, sister," she chuckled.

"Speaking of cooling down," Tony said not so innocently, "we need a couple more bodies to play doubles. The water feels great. How 'bout it?"

Lauren began to protest, but Amy countered by expressing how great an idea that was! She grabbed the older woman's hand and pulled her off the chaise. "Live a little," Amy whispered. Lauren looked unsure as she waded into the pool, allowing the warm water to wash over her body.

I've done enough living this weekend for a lifetime

, she assessed silently.

"I'll take blondie," Tony announced, holding up the net as he and Amy bounced to the other side.

"Guess it's you and me then," Tommy grinned, giving Lauren a fist bump. "What's your name again?"

Not wanting to be a poor sport, she forced a small smile. "I'm Lauren," she replied, "and you're Tommy, right?" The young man beamed back at her, pleased she had remembered his name.

The foursome played several sets, with Tony and Amy winning most of them. As the afternoon wore on, it was clear those two were developing a rather close friendship, if the groping and grabbing were indicative of anything. After a while, the volleyball game simply became an afterthought. That was not a bad thing, at least for Lauren, as her lack of comparative agility was obvious. Tommy was a good sport too, happily taking up the slack in her play. She decided he was quite likeable after all. Confident and persistent, to be sure, but tempered by a soft voice and a pleasant demeanor. Eventually the game was abandoned altogether, with Amy and Tony drifting off to a corner by themselves. Younger high school boys were quick to grab the volleyball and start their own contest.

Tommy nabbed a nearby Styrofoam noodle and handed it to Lauren, who wrapped her arms tightly around the device. She was not a particularly good swimmer and was relieved to no longer have to pogo off the bottom to keep her head above water. Her eyes followed the young man as he jumped out of the pool in search of a second floaty. Besides being nice, he really was unbelievably good looking, with a full summer's tan, chiseled abdomen, and sleek, muscular legs. Thick neck muscles gave way to a strong spine, which tapered to a very cute butt. She tried to push any untoward thoughts from her mind, but the same emotions that had invaded her over the past few days kept driving them back in. Lauren giggled drunkenly. She remembered her hotwife research the day before. There is a spirit Koreans called Kumiho, which has a voracious appetite for sex, and whose hobby is seducing humans. Although not a believer in the supernatural, Lauren felt this was a pretty accurate description of the raw lust that had been percolating deep within her the last week or so. Coupled with her husband's sudden interest in taking his fantasies to the next level, her startling increase in libido could only be explained by something so unlikely. Like a spirit. Like a demon. Like Kumiho.

Lauren watched as Tommy walked back to the edge of the water, preparing to jump in. The front of the swimsuit was tight around his crotch and legs, and while he didn't appear to be exceptionally large in that area, whatever he did have would surely have a steam engine full of muscles behind it. Lauren blew her bangs off her eyes as she thought about it.

Get a grip, woman, he's only a kid

.

They held onto each other's floats to remain anchored together, idly chatting. Lauren learned that both he and Tony attended the same local university, were fraternity brothers, and were both in their senior year. Tony was 22 and majoring in sports medicine. Tommy had just turned 21, hoped to own his own business someday, and was into gymnastics. That explained his toned upper body, trim waist and powerful legs. Tommy lived in the apartment building with his parents, although in a separate attached suite with its own kitchen and bedroom. Tony was his best friend and visited often.

As they floated side-by-side, Tommy kept them from separating by occasionally reaching over Lauren's backside and grasping her hip, pulling his body against hers. Their arms gently touched as they maneuvered around other swimmers, their hips bumping as the water lapped at their bodies. Both were keenly aware of their naked skin rubbing together, and the unspoken electricity between them seemed to grow with each passing minute. Tommy's heart rate increased now that Lauren's pretty face was close. He was very sure of himself with girls his own age. He'd make a move, they'd be receptive -- or not -- and he wouldn't care one way or the other. But she was different. Old enough to be his mother yet hot as hell, he felt a bit intimidated by her stature and how she carried herself.

As Tommy contemplated his next move, the calmness suddenly turned to chaos. The water from a child's cannonball dive hit Lauren squarely in the face, causing her to swallow much of it. Losing her grip on the noodle, she quickly disappeared under the surface, the surprise of it all catching her off guard. A weak swimmer to begin with, her arms flailed about as she dropped to the bottom of the deep end, instinctively reaching for something, anything, to grasp onto. Finding none, her surprise turned to instant panic. After what seemed like minutes of thrashing about, but were no more than a few seconds, a pair of strong arms encased her body, pulling her upward. Surfacing, Lauren found herself face to face with Tommy once again. She threw her arms around his thick neck and expelled the swallowed water over his shoulder. He held her tightly until she calmed down, repeatedly assuring her that she was safe. "You just took on some water, you're okay now."