My heartfelt thanks go again to the two people who have helped by editing this story for me Marie-Terese and Willy B.
The incessant ringing of the phone reached into my brain, dragging me back to the real world. Pushing through the fog of sleep, I reached for it, lifted the receiver and managed a short hello while trying to force myself fully awake. In the background I could hear the shower running. Taking a quick look at the tumbled mess of sheets on the other side of the bed I realized my partner from last night must be cleaning up. Not surprising considering the length and intensity of our fucking.
"Don't hang up, oh please don't hang up, we have to talk," the voice at the other end pleaded for me to listen. A long pregnant pause followed by the disembodied voice asking- no, begging- to know if I was still there.
"Yes I'm here. I suppose we have to talk at some stage, even if it is only to decide what to do about this mess."
The voice answered with a broken sob and a softly spoken, "Can I come over? Please?"
The "please" was uttered as a cry for help. Hearing it, I almost crumbled inside, feeling it tear again at my heart and gut. Then the memory of the pain and horror of the last three weeks returned and with it my anger and hatred for those who had inflicted it on me.
"It's not convenient right now, how about tomorrow about 4 pm," my reply was short and abrupt. I wanted to hurt the listener as much as I could, hoping that by doing so I would relieve the pain within myself, but knowing that it wouldn't...couldn't ever take it away.
"You... you're not alone then?" silence. "Ok then, 4 p.m." silence. "I suppose I deserve this. I guess I brought it on myself." The phone went dead in my hand but not before I heard a last gasp and sobbing. I slammed down the receiver with some satisfaction.
Damn... those last words, "I brought it on myself." How many times had I heard them over the last three weeks? Was it only three weeks since this nightmare began?
Dropping back onto the bed, I listened to the sound of the shower and allowed my mind to drift back to the start of this nightmare. The party...yes that was the beginning, at least for me. For them it had begun earlier, how much earlier I didn't know and had no real interest in finding out.
Yes, the party ...
It Begins.
"Come on darling hurry up or we'll be late," Megan's voice cut through the steam of the hot shower.
"I'll take the kids to my parents and be back in 30 minutes. Do try to be ready by the time I get back."
It was one of those parties that just seemed to happen, no special reason, just a few friends getting together around a barbeque.
Right on time Megan walked in the front door. I greeted her with a long appreciative look that took in every inch of her delicious body. A natural honey blonde she had let her hair grow long enough to reach half way to her waist. It now flowed around her head and shoulders in a golden halo, setting off her beautiful oval face. A tight pale blue top served to emphasize her 38 D breasts secured in a lacy bra. Not that she needed a bra as her breasts still defied gravity and stood out proudly on their own, topped by two of the best nipples I had ever seen. Of course I hadn't seen too many recently, in fact in the last 8 years I had seen exactly two in the flesh, hers. A thin waist belied the birth of our two kids, swelling into a tight round ass and two long legs encased in a short black skirt that came down to mid thigh. At 32 she looked more like 22, and she knew it.
Just looking at her started a movement in my groin area that quickly grew to a semi erection.
This was the visual package, but anyone who knows my wife knows that she has a mind as sharp as a tack. No dizzy blonde here, Megan can mentally match it with the best and usually comes out on top. This is what attracted me to her in the first place. It's hard to believe, but a fact none the less.
"I'll drive," Megan stated, dangling her car keys in front of me. "And hurry up. Remember we have to pick up Sylvia on the way."
Sylvia is Megan's best friend although I have trouble understanding why. Megan is good looking in a sophisticated way, dressing to enhance her looks and figure while Sylvia is good looking in a sluttish way, dressing to expose her figure. Megan looks 22 rather than her 32 years while Sylvia looks her 32 years but tries to look 22.
They have been friends since forever. When Sylvia's marriage turned bad, ending in a bitter divorce 3 years ago, Megan was there to help her pick up the pieces. Pick up being the operative words. In those three years Sylvia has tried to bed every male she could get her hands on.
Sylvia has developed quite a reputation in our social group but despite this, or maybe because of it, Megan continues to stand by her friend.
The couples in our group of friends consider her a walking mantrap, not surprising as she has come on to every man in the group, and succeeded with many of them.
Even I am not safe from her. She has come on to me several times in the last few weeks. Although Megan is her best friend, Sylvia has openly flirted with me and only last night asked me if I would like to take her to bed. It didn't worry her that Megan was standing beside me. I just laughed it off, saying that one hot woman was enough for me. I could never cheat on Megan because I loved her too much to do anything to hurt our marriage. Truthfully Sylvia just doesn't appeal to me, even though she is fun to be around, she is just not what I find sexually attractive
Glancing at Megan, I noticed a strange look in her eyes as she looked at me then Sylvia before clearing her throat and asking if we wanted another drink. That look was almost as if she were saying go on, fuck her, I don't mind.
*****
For the last few weeks our sex play had shown a marked improvement in frequency and intensity, and last night was no different. I mean we had a great sex life, up till then, making love 3 or 4 times a week with the occasional wild fuck thrown in when the mood took us. Now Megan was instigating it almost every night, sometimes twice a night. Not that I'm complaining. The ratio of making love to fucking had definitely swung the other way. I wondered what had gotten into the girl?
Once Sylvia left, I started to clean up the glasses and plates. Megan returned from seeing Sylvia to the door.
"Let's just leave those till morning; I have some more interesting activities planned," she said.
Grabbing me by the hand she pulled me into her arms, her hard nipples pushing into my chest through both of our shirts. Her kiss was neither loving nor gentle; it was pure lust and the passion of a very horny lady.
Taken by surprise, it took me a few seconds to respond in kind. In those few seconds my cock went from sleepy hibernation to full erection, tenting the thin material of my pants and demanding instant release.
Pushing her hand between our bodies, she caressed my erection through my pants before moving to my belt and zipper. My pants and boxers were instantly pooled around my ankles where they were soon discarded.
Aware that the kids were asleep upstairs, I made to move the entertainment to our bedroom but Megan again surprised me by pulling her dress up revealing her shaven pussy, wet and ready.
Throwing herself down onto the sofa she shouted, "I can't wait. Fuck me here. Now!"
Dropping to my knees I dove right in to her hot, wet pussy, forcing my tongue as deep as it would go into her. Alternating between licking her pussy lips and tonguing her clit, I soon brought her to the edge of an orgasm. Stopping before she went over, I moved my attention to her inner thighs and one of her most sensitive spots, the backs of her knees. Megan bucked her pussy up and back and at the same time tried to drag my head back to service her swollen lips and clit.
