The Carol Project

(This is an expanded and re-edited version of a story posted in a different category. I hope you enjoy it.)

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Chapter 1, Cultivating and Planting

It was a bitter-cold, January Friday in Cincinnati. Brad Taylor sat in his small, spartan office and found himself thinking about a seed. He remembered how it had grown in his fertile mind, occupying more and more of his thinking, maturing into a fully developed idea.

He remembered the afternoon when the tiny seed had been planted in his cultivated brain. It was implanted that day, more than three months ago, when Darrel Thomas, who occupied a nearly identical office next to his, stuck his head in Brad's office doorway and said excitedly, "hey buddy, come on over, you gotta see this."

Brad had worked with Darrel for more than five years and knew immediately that Darrel had been surfing the net for porn and must have found something special. Darrel wasn't stupid enough to do this on the company's internet, he had his own big screen laptop with a cell modem so it wouldn't show up on his company computer activity. Nevertheless, both men knew for sure that Darrel was violating at least one corporate policy because it was done on company time.

"Hang on a sec man, I've got to finish this spreadsheet," Brad said as he worked at his own computer for a few more minutes. The international consumer products company he and Darrel worked for as project specialists, bought chemicals by the ton, added fragrance -- and for some products also flavoring -- packaged them, and then aggressively promoted and sold them by the ounce all over the world as familiar household brands, raking in billions in the process. Buying ingredients by the ton, adding a little value and reselling a finished product by the ounce, was a sure fire way for big shareholders and management at the very top to get immensely rich. That wasn't something, however, with which either Darrel, or Brad, had to concern himself.

A few minutes later Brad walked into Darrel's office. "Whatcha got Darrel?" Brad asked.

"Grab a seat and take a look at this," said the giant black man as he pulled up a side chair for Brad next to his own comfortable desk chair. Lowering his voice he said excitedly, "you won't fucking believe it."

Sure enough, Brad had guessed exactly right. Darrel had been surfing the net for porn. This wasn't the first time he had invited Brad to take a look at something that he thought was extra special. And, Brad had to admit, he actually enjoyed these little breaks from work. If McGraw, their boss, unexpectedly dropped by, Darrel would switch the screen to a real project and say that Brad was helping him with something. They both thought that McGraw was so dumb he wouldn't know the difference anyway.

Darrel clicked the mouse a couple of times and the sleek laptop's screen lit up and came to life. Brad read the title in yellow letters that spelled out, "Lucky Wife Fucks 29 Guys." Then he noticed the sole of a dainty foot attached to a long gorgeous bare leg. The woman was lying on her back surrounded by what appeared to be about six guys. The camera was above the group looking down at the action. Then he saw her flushed face and long neck. She was beautiful with long, light brown hair. She was moaning as an average size, but stone hard, glistening, wet cock plunged into her. What struck Brad almost immediately about this video, more than any he had seen before, was the woman's obvious excitement. Unless Brad was mistaken, she couldn't possibly have been acting. What he was watching was very real and it seemed to Brad that she was in a constant state of orgasm. He had never seen anything quite like it. Then he remembered that he had seen something like it. Every time he made love to his beautiful wife, Carol, in the missionary position, as he looked down at her face -- also surrounded by lustrous, long brown hair, though darker than the woman's in the video -- she too was almost always in a constant state of climaxing, her face was also flushed as she panted and writhed beneath him wanting more and more.

The woman in the film didn't speak. Actually, none of the men spoke either, except later and then very briefly midway in the video. For the most part, the only sounds emitted were the moans, groans, grunts and gasps that seemed constant with most of them coming from the woman. Another thing that Brad noticed was that none of the men had huge cocks like he saw in most of the other videos. They were average size, at best, but that didn't seem to bother the woman at all. Brad couldn't imagine how she could have been more excited if all of the cocks had been gigantic.

Darrel glanced away from the screen, looked at Brad and asked, "Isn't she something?"

Brad wasn't thinking when he quietly responded, "that's how Carol looks."

"What did you say?" asked Darrel wanting to make sure he understood correctly what he thought he had heard.

"Nothing," replied Brad.

"Oh, I thought you said, 'that's how Carol looks.' "

"Yeah, you heard right, that is what I said."

"Wow! I've never seen a woman get so much into fucking as this gal in the film." Darrel paused for a minute. Then, as they watched the screen, enraptured, a portly man who had been thrusting into the woman shuddered and came himself. As he dismounted the number "1" flashed across the screen as the man's thick white semen oozed out of the beautiful woman's raw vagina and plopped onto the light blue sheet covering a king-size mattress on the floor. Then, the first man was immediately replaced by another. When the second guy entered her she started coming again. "Are you serious? Does Carol really come like that?"

"I'm serious. She really does," Brad said softly, almost wistfully, as he was intently watching the woman on the screen while thinking of his wife.

The two men wasted 44 minutes of company time that autumn afternoon in Darrel's office until the number "29" flashed on the screen of the laptop computer and the screen went dark. At the end, the light blue sheet was soiled with more than a dozen wet spots. They had noticed a pattern as they intently watched the video. The man who knelt on the woman's right, near her head with his cock in her mouth, was usually the one to take the place of the guy who had been fucking her. The man who knelt on her left, typically, had his cock in her pretty hand. The other men were crowded around and touching her breasts, her legs or her pretty ass. When one group finished, another group of five or six took its place until all twenty-nine men had made a gooey deposit in her hungry, seemingly insatiable pussy.

"That was without a doubt the hottest video I've ever seen," declared Darrel.

"I have to agree with you," said Brad.

"I would love to see something like that in person," said Darrel wistfully as he leaned back in his chair, laced the long black fingers of his big hands together forming a cradle for his huge, shaved head.

Brad couldn't help thinking that he too would love to see a woman totally give in to multiple lovers who kept her at a sexual peak few women could ever reach. He and Carol had been married for twenty-two -- almost twenty three -- years and he had learned in that time that she was, potentially, one of those women. He was as hot for his beautiful wife and the mother of their three children as he had ever been. "I would like to watch that too, Darrel, but I guess we'll just have to settle for the video again if that's what we want to see."

"You're probably right. But, I would still love to see a woman, like the woman in the video, not a professional actress, in person getting all the cock she could handle and cumming nonstop."

"How do you plan on making that ever happen?" Asked Brad as he chuckled at the seeming impossibility of Darrel's dream.

"I'm not sure, but I think it's something worth working on, don't you?"

This wasn't a new subject for either of the men. During the years they had worked side by side they became close, shared their innermost thoughts with each other and most of their shared thoughts were about sex. Darrel had been married to Ruthie for thirty years. She had doubled her body size since they wed, must weigh over three hundred pounds and was just really unattractive because she had let herself go in every respect and just didn't seem to care about anything anymore. Darrel loved her dearly but had finally given up on sex with her -- that didn't mean he didn't have sex -- about the same time she gave up on it too. Both men knew that there weren't twenty-nine guys who would want to have sex with Darrel's wife. Both men also remembered that Brad had finally admitted to Darrel, after Darrel's unrelenting urging over the past two years, that Brad really wanted to watch his gorgeous but faithful wife fuck another man. However, that was unlikely to ever happen, no matter how much he wanted it.

Brad remembered the first time Darrel had brought up the subject. It was after they had watched another video, two years before, when Darrel asked, "hey buddy you ever think about watching Carol get fucked?"

"Hey man, that's none of your business," was Brad's swift and indignant espousal response.

Darrel just laughed and said, "don't get your shorts in bunch. Every guy thinks about that after he's been married as long as you've been and, especially, if the guy's married to someone as super hot as Carol."

Brad felt as if he had been caught because he had been thinking that very thing, especially since he and Darrel had been taking their breaks from working by watching porn on Darrel's laptop. After that first time Darrel had brought up the subject of Brad watching his wife another man, whenever they watched a video together or, sometimes even when they were just having a cup of coffee, Darrel would predictably bring up the subject of Carol with someone else. Brad's reverie was abruptly interrupted by the sound of Darrel's deep voice.

"Hey, man," said Darrel, "you've told me dozens of times that you want to watch Carol with another guy and just now you told me that she always cums and looks and acts like the woman in the video. Right?"

"That's true. So what?"

"Why don't you try to get Carol to do that?"

"Darrel, even though Carol is prettier than the video gal and loves sex more than any woman I could imagine, the chances of that happening are about the same as you becoming the CEO of the company, or me bowling a 300 game, zilch. That's just not going to happen my friend."

"But, would you want it to?"

Brad thought that was a great question. Did he want it to happen? Did he want to see his wife, not just with one man, but many men, one after the other. Did he want to watch and hear her as others brought her to a place of ecstacy that was higher than he had been able to take her? Of course he had fantasized about that very thing, but until he had watched the special video with his black friend, the fantasy was blurry and vague, now it seemed to be sharper and more in focus than it had ever been. "Darrel, I'm not sure. I think so . . . " he paused to collect his thoughts, feeling almost disloyal to his mate for even discussing Darrel's idea. "Let's face it, what we just saw is much more extreme than anything I've ever imagined before. And, like I've told you many times, Carol has just blown me off whenever I mention how much I would like to see her with one man, not to mention twenty-nine."

Darrel starred at his ceiling, was quiet for a minute then he said, "Let's think about it. We're both project guys. We get paid to make things happen. Why not make this a specific project? Why not make it a project to get Carol laid by twenty-nine guys? No, let's make it at least thirty," he said reconsidering the goal, "one after the other nonstop so she can beat the gal in the video." He smiled, then became serious, leaned closer to Brad and said, "and Brad, I'm sure you will agree that the only thing missing from the video was that all of the guys were kind of on the small side. You've told me over and over that you really do want to watch Carol with a guy with a big cock and preferably a black guy, right?"

"Right," Brad answered cautiously as he recalled telling Darrel exactly that several times during the past year, as his fantasy for Carol grew and became more extreme.

"Well then, let's make it a project to get Carol gangbanged by at least thirty well-hung black guys nonstop within, oh, let's say six months. Let's make Carol a special project. What do you think?" Darrel asked eagerly.

Brad was tongue-tied and torn in his confusion, nevertheless, the seed had been planted in his mind that had been well prepared for the seeding of the idea. Darrel's question was unambiguous. Still, he didn't know how to answer it. "We're talking about my wife and my marriage," he said seriously as he pushed the chair back and stood up to leave. In frustration at not being better able to explain his dilemma he said, "think I'm going to call it day and head home. See you tomorrow, Darrel." Before Brad got back to his office he thought about something, did a quick 180, returned to Darrel's office, poked his head in the door and asked, "hey, how can I get that video on my computer at home?"

Darrel wrote down the URL for the free site and instructions on how to get to the video with the highly sexual, beautiful woman. As he handed the yellow slip of paper to Brad, he smiled and asked, "are you going to show it to Carol?"

"Yes I am. Hope she doesn't bite my head off."

"Are you going to tell her about our project?"

"You're going way too fast for me my friend. Slow down. See you tomorrow Darrel."

During his drive home in heavy traffic -- almost on auto-pilot -- Brad berated himself for not telling Darrel to "knock it off" when his friend first broached the subject of the Carol Project. Brad knew that not so many years earlier he would have been indignant at Darrel's absurd idea, but that was when the green-eyed-monster of jealousy still resided deep within his psyche. During the first dozen years, or so, of their marriage he could hardly stand it when someone would stare at Carol with obvious longing, lightly flirt with her, or even when friends would remind him that he married a hot fox. He couldn't point to a moment when the jealousy monster vacated his mind, but suddenly it moved out like a delinquent tenant in the dark of night. Almost instantly, or so it seemed to Brad, the empty psychic space was occupied by a very different type of resident. For some reason that he didn't understand, he began to look forward to the attention men always paid his beautiful wife. As time went on, he encouraged her to dress sexier and would tell her that he actually liked it when men looked at her lustily or flirted with her at company parties. His change in attitude both embarrassed and confused Carol, but she accepted it as a phase her husband must be going through that would, surely, soon end she told herself.

Chapter 2, Watering

That same day, more than three months ago, while Brad was driving home from work, Carol Taylor was all alone in the big, old house that she had shared with her husband and children. Brad would be home soon and she was only cooking for the two of them because Don and Robin were away at different colleges and Tim was spending the night with a friend from high school. Even though it was October, and the evenings were getting cool in Ohio, she wore her white, short shorts and one of Robin's flimsy tops with a tiny strap that just slipped over her head and another that tied at her waist. The white short shorts were her favorite, not just because they made Brad wildly hot but also because they were too small, exposing half of each round, firm ass cheek and so tight at the crotch that the in-seam -- which was now moist -- pressed and rubbed against her swollen clit and cleaved her pussy lips. Today she was wearing the shorts with the fly button unbuttoned and the zipper only zipped halfway. Her sparse, neatly trimmed pubic hair was framed by the v of the open fly. Carol thought it looked cute and sexy but realized that someone else might think it was ridiculous or just looked raunchy. But, to Carol the only thing that mattered was what Brad would think and she knew it would drive him lustfully wild. The blue material that covered her still-pert breasts didn't quite reach her navel, it was loose, but not so loose as to cover up the fact that she was braless. Of course, with no back she couldn't have worn a bra anyway, not that she ever needed to. Carol was proud that she could wear her daughter's clothes even though Robin was only 20 and she was 42. She was an inch taller than her daughter at 5' 7" but, Carol actually weighed a little less than Robin at only 123 pounds. That notable fall day her shimmering dark hair was in a pony tail, she was barefoot and altogether looked more like a college freshman than a woman into her forties. She loved to drive Brad crazy and couldn't wait for him to get home so she could tease him in her sexy outfit and see what it would lead to later that night.

The two-story frame house on Trammel Lane was the same house in which she had grown up. Her mother had died when she was twelve and her father when she was 22, just three years after she and Brad married. Because she didn't have siblings, everything was left to her. Without a mortgage, they were able to make Brad's income go a long way and so they were more comfortable, financially, than others in his pay bracket.

She and Brad had attended separate Catholic High Schools, hers was an all girl's school and his an all boys. However, they did have joint dances and that's when they met during their junior year. For both of them, it was love at first sight. He was tall, handsome, charming and funny. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He learned that she lived with her widower father and was taking care of him. It seemed to Brad that she wanted to take care of everybody and he loved that about her. By the time they were ready to graduate, it was just understood by her dad, Brad's parents and all of their friends that they would go to college at Ohio State in Columbus and probably get married by the end of their freshman year. They didn't wait that long. She lived in an on-campus girl's dorm and he in a boy's dorm, but they were nearly inseparable. It was inevitable that they would have sex, and it didn't take but a matter of weeks before she stopped saying no to an insistent, frustrated boyfriend and finally said yes to her horny, new fiancé. They married during the Christmas' holiday break and then moved into a studio apartment on campus. They both studied hard and Brad graduated early, but she had to drop out to have her son, Don, in her junior year.

The first time they made love she discovered nerves at the center of her body that she didn't know existed. At first they sent a flash signal of pain to her brain which soon changed to a message of pleasure that just got better and better each time he thrust into her warm, wet, receptive cavity. She thought that after sleeping with the same man for more than twenty years, the pleasure would get old and eventually dull. That never happened to her, it just got better and better. Brad was so special, he seemed to be more concerned about her pleasure than his own. She had read in women's magazines that once a week, or even less, was about average for most couples their age, but, they made love at least three times in an average week and sometimes more than that. Sex with her handsome, caring, tender and loving husband was her favorite thing to do in the whole world, nothing else was even a close second. She had asked herself over and over if there was something wrong with her. Why was she so obsessed with something that all adults did and usually sooner, rather than later, got tired of -- or at least bored with it with their life partner? She sure didn't get tired of it, she longed for and thought about it nearly all the time.