Party Deep

Despite being half French, my fair-haired, baby-faced wife Lilly was a bad drinker. Everytime we had a party, she had passed out on a bed long before the fun ended.

This time we were hosting a big one at our house, so, being the hostess, she promised to not get drunk, perhaps not drink at all - and failed at that miserably. The party was in full swing, yet I saw Lilly disappear upstairs when no-one was looking. Not many people knew who she or I were - this was a big party with mostly friends-of-friends and even some strangers - so nobody even noticed her disappearance. I continued to have fun, even flirted drunkenly with some really loose-seeming lady, but after a couple of hours, when everyone was far too drunk to notice or care, I left to go upstairs to see if Lilly was doing fine.

I figured she was at our bedroom. Near the door stood - barely managed to stand, really - a couple of guys. They winked as I went into the room, as if I was a bridegroom entering it for the first time or something. But I caught myself winkind back - everyone was tipsy, everyone was winky.

The bedroom was half-lit with our little bedside table lamp. On the bed was a couple - a guy pinning down and really drunk blonde. Around them were a couple more guys, some of whom turned to look when I entered.

"Close the door, dude," said one of them and turned back to the couple fucking on my bed. He was jerking off.

I wasn't going to disturb the drunk and was about to leave - and then the girl moaned.

I stood there, watching. The man on the girl thrust his hips a couple more times, groaned, squeezed his cock with his hand, and rolled off my wife's drunken body. Another guy got on the bed, crawled on top of her and put his cock in.

"Hey," I mumbled.

"What?" said one of the guys. "We're having some fun. Get in the line, bro." He took a shot from the bottle of vodka that he was holding.

"I hear it's the wife of the host," said the other. "Wonder where the busband is."

"He's probably sleeping somewhere... who the fuck cares," said the first guy, drank again and swayed, but didn't fall. His half-erect cock was hanging out, pre-cum - or perhaps it was cum - leaking out of it. "Would hate to be the guy though," he said. "You're not the hubb?"

"N-no, I'm not," I said.

"Good for you. Get in line, then."

The man on my wife's already come, so the guy with the bottle crawled onto the bed - before took his place between her legs, I saw for a second Lilly's face, her eyes half-closed, and her red, messy raw crotch.

"Are you people jizzing inside of her? What if she's not on the pill?" I managed to say.

"What are you mumbling about, look at her, who cares at this point... just... anyway, alcohol is contraceptive or what?" said the man who just spunked in my wife. Instead of stepping off the bed, he fell over, but quickly stood up, seemingly refreshed by the little adventure. I could see he still had an erection.

Lilly moaned. I saw her hand creep around her "lover's" neck, holding him closer. Did she think it was me? I had an adrenaline rush: I was watching without helping her, not even-

"Hi, I'm Lilly," she moaned. "Who the fuck are you anyway..."

"Jake," groaned the guy. "Wanna drink?"

"Yeah," she said and caught neck of the bottle with her lips, gulping. "Who the fuck are you, Jake," I heard Lilly mumble before she passed out again.

This time I could see the spasm on the guy's balls as he started to finish without even thinking about pulling out. When he was done, he crawled off her; Lilly's legs lay apart, raw pussy glistening, her breasts were out of her shirt and bra. She wasn't completely unconscious - I could see her touching her nipple and rolling it under her finger as her hips made an idle half-thrust.

As another guy was getting on top of her, the door opened and a tall drunken man walked in, accompanied by noise.

"Is this where the host's wife's getting humped?" he half asked, half proclaimed.

"No," I said immediately, but he already saw the bed and walked straight to it.

"Let's spit roast her," he said authoritatively and got on the bed.

They turned Lilly over, got her to stand on all fours and fucked her from both sides - mouth and pussy. Hammered, hanging from their cocks, Lilly seemed to have had an orgasm. When the men followed suit, some cum must have gotten in her throat, she choked and kept coughing the cum at the plams of her hands as the tall guy helpfully, drunkenly patted her back. Then he got on top of her, from behind, pinned her down and fucked her - I could clearly see his cock spreading red labia, sinking in, forcing spouts of someone else's spunk. Lilly held her legs wider apart, spreading herself, trying to better accomodate his thick cock.

***

Unlike Lilly - and, apparently, most people partying in our house - in the morning I had to work. Sleepless night was not a problem, and I'm never hungover, but I still tried to call in sick - because Lilly was still mostly unconscious, still drinking through that unconsciousness, and there were still some people in her room. But I was told - rather strictly - that I had to be there, and so, at 7 A.M. I left the still-partying house and my horny, defenseless wife up to fate.

Throughout the day I kept calling her. Finally, at around five in the evening, Lilly called back.

"How are you feeling?" I asked her, not knowing what to expect.

"Terrible," she said. "I'm so hungover."

"Are you... fine or..?" I asked incoherently.

What was I supposed to say? What was she thinking? Was I supposed to know what happened? If I knew, how could I have left, right? If I didn't, then what? But she heself, raw from hours of fucking and filled with cum, of course, couldn't not have known.

"I'm not fine," Lilly said. "I'm... so hungover. My head is going to explode. I'm going to barf. Just calling to tell you that I am alive, barely."

"Good," said I, for some reason breathless.

"Ok, buy, then," she said and hung up.

When I came home, she was watching TV, wrapped in a fluffy white robe, a towel over her head. Partygoers have long left, but the mess was still there. Everywhere - except for our bedroom. The bottles have been taken out. The sheets were new, and the old one have already been washed.

"What?" said Lilly, standing behind, as I looked at the room.

"N...nothing," I said. "I'll just change. Uh."

And - not a word. She just didn't tell me. But wasn't it... rape? If she was so ashamed that - ah, I didn't know what to think. Finally, half-angry and hal-filled with pity, I ended up doing nothing, at least for a while.

In two months I've almost forgotten about that party. I had occasional dreams - a sort of "wet nightmares" about her lying there spread-eagle, me watching her serve the guests. But I have gotten over it, mostly. Until Lilly said:

"Harold, I'm..." she smiled and closed her eyes, "I'm pregnant."

We sat on our bad and held hands. Then I said:

"Lilly, tell me. One thing."

"What?"

"Lilly. Is... the child mine?"

"What?" she said and stood up. "Harold? What do you mean?"

"I meant what I said."

"Harold," she said and took a breath, "who do you take me for?"

Not looking at me, Lilly crossed her hands, blushed deeply, but kept looking completely outraged. Then she stormed out of the room and locked herself in the bathroom. "Sod off!" she would scream as I knocked on it. "Sod off, pig!"

***

It took some time, but we got over this little row. A week or so after, even though she was now pregnant (it wasn't yet showing), I convinced Lilly - firmly insisted on it, more like - that we have another small party before she's too pregnant for fun. You wouldn't be able to drink now, would you, I joked, isn't that great? We'll be done before midnight anyway. A respactable party for friends.

And friends I did call. Not real family friends, though. Acquaintances out of town, some people from my previous job, and even a kinda dangerous couple of guys that I found online. Lilly was okay with me managing invitations - she was constantly not in the mood. So, I got everything ready, and then, half an hour before the first man arrived, I pinned my wife to the wall and put a gag in her mouth.

"Lilly," I said, looking her in the eyes as she tried to ask what was going on. "I know what happened back then. And about this child," I caressed her barely rounded tummy, "I know about as much as you do and perhaps even more."

She looked back at me. I picked her up, dragged her to our bed, throw her on it face-down and tied her hands to the posts. Then I took off her panties, rolled up her dress and tied her legs to the remaining posts, spreading Lilly face-down in the shape of an X. Soon the first guest arrived, and I went downstairs to greet him.

"Is your wife up for it anyway?" he said, smiling quite sheepishly; the guy himself was married, I knew, to a sexless and thin titless harpy.

"Absolutely. She's just that kind of girl," I said.

In half an hour everyone was there - eleven men in total. I offered refreshments, then took them upstairs and presented my Lilly to them.

When she heard people entering, Lilly tried to free herself, but couldn't - I tied her down good. She stopped trying to free herself quickly, though - incredibly, awkwardly quickly. She just tried it, she failed, she gave up. Despite everything, I felt kinda betrayed again.

"Well, guys, anything... she's completely yours," I said. "No, uh, holes barred. You can be as rough as you want. Spank, slap her, call her names if you like that. She does. Just don't break her and don't bruise her, ok? You can finish inside." The guys smiled. "And she wanted someone to teach her to take it up her butt well."

The momen I finished, an eager man (the one that came first) got on top of my wife. Others watched as he thrashed her from behind. When he was done, another one took his place; they took turns. I allowed them to take photos of her. Lilly took it all calmly. She screamed and cried the first time some guy fucked her ass, but got used to that, too, in a couple of minutes. She took cocks in her mouth and sucked like a good girl, every now and then she came, groaning incoherently, her whole body twisting. The guys, having gotten used to me and not that nervous anymore, ended up untying my wife, taking out her gag, trying poses, making her crawl on the floor. When some guy was fucking her over the bedside table, the framed picture of us fall of it, but he caught it and put it back on. They fucked her for two more hours, drinking, getting her drunk - she probably didn't care anymore. Someone poured vodka in Lilly's cunt and then ass, and it made her more drunk that taking a shot. When everyone seemed to be resting, Lilly went to clean herself out and got fucked in the shower. She was gagged once again and not trying to take out the gag.

Around one in the morning the party was over. One by one the guests left, leaving the spent, used Lilly on our marital bed.

***

Three years have passed. Lilly's still a fair-haired, babyfaced darling that she always was. She has given birth to a boy - healthy and strong, growing quickly and eating a lot, clever fair-haired boy that was already tall for his age.

The kid, he's upstairs. Lilly kisses him, closes the door and goes to our bedroom. There she takes off her clothes. Wearing only a pair of white silk panties and a pair of high-heels, Lilly takes a bottle of wine, a tray with some glasses and walks downstairs, where my friends are waiting. She looks lovely. Serves wine. The men are getting drunk on her beauty. Somebody playingly pulls at her ponytail, almost making her drop the tray. Chastizingly, someone gives her a slap on the ass. A hand squeezed her breast, fingers pinch at the nipple. Lilly's swept off her feet. She is carried off to the couch in the middle of the room, and the party is on.