The Portrait Ch 03

The Portrait -- Chapter III

THE PORTRAIT - CHAPTER THREE

This is another chapter in the life of the Ellisons, characters created by CindysBob's excellent story, "The Portrait." I recommend you read that, it is entertaining and will introduce you to the characters. I have been chastised for not including the URL so readers can easily find his story. As my profile states, I am a dirty old man, emphasis on the old. Copying URLs is not second nature to me, as it is to some. If you go to "Member Search" and put in Cindysbob, he will come up and you can easily find the story. It is probably my favorite story on the entire site. I don't know why, exactly, except that I love the characters, love the way Leanne changed, and found her conversion incredibly exciting. My only quibble with it was that it needed more chapters. I've resigned myself to the fact that he isn't inclined to provide any, so, with his permission, I have tried my hand at a further chapter of Leanne's descent into slutdom. After reading his story numerous times I discovered that he was never specific about their children, nor did he ever reveal Mr. Ellison's first name. I have provided specifics in both instances, no particular reason for my choices, just what I felt like.

This is a third chapter about Leanne and George. I am taking the characters in directions I'm sure the original author never envisioned, but I'm much more perverted than he is, although not anywhere near as good a writer. I implore you to read his story if you haven't. Chapter 02 was my first attempt at erotic writing. I was slaughtered by the people who hate cuck stories. This is a cuck story. If you hate them, don't read it!!! I have kept it in "Loving Wives" so that my many detractors (including "HE WHOSE CAPS LOCK IS STUCK) can have more fun.

Two further disclaimers: Much of this is probably illogical or, even, impossible. It takes place in my universe where such things can happen. Therefore, I'm not worried about the characters getting STDs, or the children winding up drug addicts, or any of the other vile futures you all see ahead for fictional characters. The only things that will happen to them are those I want to have happen. I look forward to any, and all, CONSTRUCTIVE criticism. Haters will be deleted!

I hope you enjoy it!

Two weeks later I received a call from Ghormley at my office. When I got on the phone he told me that he would be by on the next Saturday and would spend about a week painting his client's wife at our waterfall.

"I'm afraid you won't be able to come down and watch the "Artistic Process,"" he said, "The client is going to be there and he's very sensitive about anyone ogling his wife while she's nude."

"What about you?", I asked.

"Well, he can't quite figure a way around that," he chuckled, "But I know he'd freak if strangers showed up."

"As long as I get paid and you stay away from my wife," I told him.

"Yeah, I'll pay up before we go down there," he said, "And about that other, um, well, you know I just kind of took my lead from Donner on that. To tell you the truth, I was just getting ready to tell Donner we should leave when she tossed the dress. As you saw, he kind of took over from there. If that made trouble for you and her, I'm sorry, but she had a way out."

"OK, never mind," I said, "I'll see you Saturday.

Saturday, he came by early. He knocked on the back door and stepped back a little when I opened it. Without saying anything he reached his hand out to me with bills in it. I took them from him and fanned them quickly. Ten $100.00 bills.

"Thanks," I said. He did a quick parody of a military salute, spun on his heel, and strode off the porch and towards the woods.

I closed the door and turned around to find Leanne looking out the window and following him with her eyes. As I looked at her our eyes met. She quickly looked to the floor and turned back to the kitchen and the breakfast she was preparing.

The week passed quickly, for me. I went to work every day wondering what was going on at the waterfall. One day I couldn't resist the temptation to go down the old logging road I had previously used to spy on Donner and Leanne, scrambled carefully to my spot and looked to see what was going on. An older, slightly zaftig woman was posed nude in the rocks, close to the way Leanne had posed. Ghormley was busily stroking a paintbrush on a canvas sitting on an easel. Seated near Ghormley, in a Director chair, was an older, gruff looking guy, perusing his phone and glancing up at the artist and his wife from time to time. I watched for a few minutes and then stealthily made my way out of there and back to my car and so to work.

I asked Leanne that night if she'd tried going down there at all to see the "Artistic Process."

"Oh my, no," she quickly said. "He came by Monday morning and reminded me that the husband didn't want anybody there."

"He came to the house?" I asked.

"He knocked on the back door. When I opened it, he stepped back a few feet and told me," she said. "I got the feeling he didn't want any hint of contact between us," she remarked, with raised eyebrows.

"Good," I said, and we moved on to other subjects.

By the end of the week all evidence of their presence had disappeared. I walked down to the waterfall one day and other than some of the grass being flattened a little bit, it was hard to discern that anyone had been there lately.

Several weeks went by and life seemed to return to normal. Leanne and I had resumed much of our former loving relationship as though none of the depravity had happened. We made love at night, as before, and seemed to have put it all behind us. As the weeks went by, however, I did notice some subtle changes in her. At times she would become suddenly argumentative, and we would have some stupid spat over nothing. She would usually go to our bedroom and return later to apologize, and we would kiss and make up. I noticed, on those nights, that our lovemaking was more intense. She would get very demanding and want me to fuck her rougher, or pinch and twist her nipples, while insisting, "Harder, harder." As time went on these incidents started to become more frequent. I felt something looming over my head but wasn't sure quite what to do about it.

Then, one night, the shoe dropped. "Donner called today," she said quietly.

"What did he want," I asked, "As if I didn't know?"

"He said he wants to come here and talk to us," she replied, "I told him that if he came, we would just talk and that would be all."

"And what did he say?"

"He said that that was completely up to you. We can talk and then, if we want, he will leave. You know, actually, he's never really forced us."

"When?"

"Day after tomorrow. I told him the girls are at school until 3:30 and he said he would come about 11:00 in the morning and leave whenever we want him to."

I wasn't totally pleased that she had agreed for him to come, but the conditions seemed to indicate that we, or to be honest, I would retain control of the situation. I wasn't too sure of Leanne's ability to say "No" to Donner. But she had agreed, so we would wait and see what he had to say. The sex that night and the next night was off the charts. I thought Leanne would kill me, so insatiable was she. In fact, the last morning at breakfast Tracy, the 10 year old, told us to turn down our TV at night, saying it was on so loud it woke her up. Leanne looked away for a moment and then said that we would make sure it wasn't on so loud in the future. I was just going back to my breakfast when I caught a look at Sylvia, the 13 year old, who was looking down at her plate with a definite smirk on her face. Uh-oh, we need to tone it down at night, Tracy was clueless, but Syl wasn't!

The next morning Leanne was visibly nervous. As it got closer to 11:00 she asked me what she should wear. She was wearing shorts and a blouse and obviously had underwear on underneath them. I was surprised for a moment and the asked her why she was asking me this.

"Well, I remember the last time-"

"The last time you asked them in wearing a thin sun dress with nothing on underneath. An invitation to fuck if I've ever seen one. This time, he's coming to talk, so just stay the way you are."

She nodded her head and finished whatever she was doing. As it got nearer to the appointed hour, I found myself filled with a mixture of feelings. I was nervous because I had a deep fear that this would go beyond my control, but at the same time realized that that same fear was driving a rising excitement that had my cock tingling. What would he make us do? I suddenly caught myself thinking this and tried to reel it in. Just coming to talk. Just coming to talk, I recited in my head like a mantra.

At precisely 11:00 there was a knock on the door. I opened it and Donner stood there, large and imposing. As I opened the door, he stepped back a bit.

"May I come in?" he asked with surprising politeness. I stepped back myself and he walked in around me. I led him into the living room, and he sat in one of the chairs. Leanne came in from the kitchen with two beers and held them up for us, if we wanted them. We each took one and Leanne came to sit on the couch next to me. Leanne sat on the couch as she had last time, rigidly erect and with her hands clutched in her lap, again.

"Well, you said you wanted to talk, so say what you have to say," I said.

"Well," he started, "I have a proposition for you. Now hear me out before you say anything. I'd like to have you and your wife visit me, in a couple of months, and stay the weekend, say, noon on Friday to noon on Sunday. There'll be 3 or 4 of my friends there, Ghormley will be one, and we'll do our best to keep both of you entertained for the entire time, if you catch my drift."

"And what in the world makes you think that I would be interested in subjecting my wife to 48 hours of the abuse she got from you two in one hour, and with five men no less," I remarked, angrily, nearly shouting by the end,

"Well, I'll address that," he said, "just don't go off half-cocked, and listen to me."

I gestured for him to go on, but I was still fuming, and I'm sure he could see it.

"In the first place, that was rather a special case, if you remember, we only had 60 minutes and we tried to pack as much into that as we could, pun intended," he said, leering at Leanne, who turned red and studied her nails. "This time we'll have much more time. It'll be at a much more leisurely pace, time to recover and all that. Secondly, Mr. Ellison, let's be honest here. The lady loves this kind of treatment. She knows it, you know it, and I know it. We can take our time and use and humiliate her the way she loves and make it the most memorable weekend of her life. Also, when I was here last, I spent a bit of time watching you. You seemed to be unaware of it but, when I was going after her cunt with that bottle and Ghormley was trying to pop her nipples off and grinding his asshole down on her tongue, which she put up his dirty hole voluntarily I might remind you, I watched you while she was finishing shrieking out her ecstasy. You were pumping your cock like you were working the pump for the local fire brigade, and, when she screamed out her final climax you erupted all over yourself. I think the cum shot up to your eyebrows! You can't tell me you didn't love watching that. And you'll love watching what we do to her over the weekend, just as much."

At this he sat back and crossed his arms over his chest with a very self-satisfied look on his face.

"And I promise you we will be careful not to cause any damage to her physically, you have my word on that," he added quickly.

I looked back at Leanne and saw her sitting there, hands clenched in her lap and legs pressed closely together. Looking at the expression on her face I thought to myself that she looked like she was about 10 seconds away from an orgasm. At the same time, I realized with a shock that my dick was about as hard as it had ever been.

"Sounds great for you all," I said, my voice weaker than I would have liked, "but other than abuse, what do we get out of it."

"If you'll bear with me," he said suddenly, "I'll show you. Just do as I ask, OK?

Before I could say anything, he fixed Leanne with a powerful stare and said, "Stand up and strip." In the blink of an eye, Leanne lurched to her feet and started unbuttoning her blouse as quickly as she could. "You too," he said to me. "What- what-" "Just do it," he intoned, his voice carrying a ring of authority.

"Please," Leanne moaned, "Just do as he says, I know this will make us closer than ever. I love you"

At her insistence I began undressing. I was only wearing shorts and a tee shirt, so it didn't take long, and soon we were both standing in front of him, naked.

He stepped towards us and put his arms out at his sides, "Now both of you undress me," he commanded. We worked together and in a few seconds he was down to his boxers. "Lay on the couch," he said to Leanne. "Pull down the boxers," he said to me. I hesitated, never having touched another man, and, almost trembling with fear, I realized with a pang of guilt and shame, that part of the trembling was from excitement. Finally, I reached for the waistline on both sides of him and pulled the boxers down, touching him as little as possible. As they got lower, I bent my knees and crouched down on the floor. As they came below his crotch his cock sprang loose, hard, and red and waved in front of my face inches away from me.

He gestured towards the couch where Leanne was lying with her right foot on the floor and her left leg up on the back of the couch, sodden cunt splayed wide open. "Get her wet for me," he barked, pushing me towards the couch. I fell on the couch between her legs and began licking her wide-open cunt as quickly as I could. Within seconds she was bucking her snatch up into my face groaning and whimpering and moaning out her need to be fucked.

"That's enough," he said, pulling me off the couch and onto the floor. "Now get me wet." My eyes goggling at his formidable cock waving in front of me inches from my face.

"Oh, God, George," Leanne whined, "Hurry up, hurry up, just do it!

I felt as though an abyss was opening up before me. Something in the back of my head warned me that there would be no turning back from this step, once taken. On the other side of the equation was the voice of my wife imploring me to do it, and the nagging excitement that caused a fluttering in my stomach and a hardening of my own cock. Ignoring the cautioning voice, I opened my mouth and took in as much of his cock as I could manage without gagging. Although not experienced at this, I remembered Leanne's technique and began running my tongue up and down and over the head of his meat and slobbering as much spit over it as I could. It occurred in the back of my mind that if I did a really superlative job of this he might come in my mouth, but at this point I was beyond quibbling about such a thing.

Pushing me away he grabbed my hair and while positioning himself between Leanne's legs he pulled my head behind him. "Put my cock in her," he demanded. I reached between his legs and grasped his cock (This was just in my mouth! my brain screamed) and positioned the head at her gaping hole and thrust it in. He took over and rammed his cock completely into her in one thrust. Leanne reacted as though she had received an enormous electric shock, bucking violently against him while screaming, "YES, YES, YES" and he began fucking her hard. Thrusting into her with all his weight. It seemed to me he would break her in half, being so much bigger, but Leanne was bucking up into him so hard that for an instant it looked like she would buck him onto the floor.

Spreading his legs as far apart as he could he pulled me towards his ass by my hair, at the same time screaming, "Lick my balls, you whore" and, God help me, I proceeded to do just that, thrusting my face into his ass and licking his balls as diligently as I could.

This went on for a few seconds that seemed like hours when I suddenly decided that I would also lick his taint, the area behind his balls. He roared out his approval of me for this and it was only another few seconds consideration that led me to decide I might as well lick his asshole as well. I had a sudden appreciation for Leanne's decision to stick her tongue up Ghormley's anus the last time. Once you've descended to the absolute bottom you get a certain attitude where it really doesn't make any difference how much lower you go.

At this point I experienced almost a true out-of-body- experience where I felt like I was floating above the scene and could take in the entire depraved tableau that I was an intimate part of. Here was this large corpulent man wildly fucking my slender wife, who was fucking him back so enthusiastically that she was practically bucking him off the couch, while I had both hands on his ass cheeks, spreading them as much as possible so that I could get my face in between them and lick his anus. Within seconds he roared out his climax and filled Leanne's cunt with an impressive amount of cum, while she shrieked her ecstasy and arched her back so strongly, trying to get as much cock into her twat as was possible, that she literally lifted him off the couch and while I decided, at that instant, to jam my tongue as far up her lover's anus as I possibly could and simultaneously spewed my own considerable store of semen onto the couch without even touching my rock-hard prick.

In the sweaty, quivering, panting mass that we constituted after all our orgasms it entered my mind that, surely, I had never even contemplated anything so depraved as this, much less participated in it. Finally pushing me off him so he could stand up, Donner faced me and said, "Clean me off." I attacked his slimy cock with my mouth and hungrily sucked every trace of cum and cunt slime off it as though it was the high point of my life. Pulling his cock from my mouth he gestured toward Leanne, who, still splayed out on the couch, was lying there panting and with her cunt area suffused in his cum.

"She's all yours," he said dismissively, turning away from us. I fell upon Leanne and rammed my cock into her slimy cunt and started fucking her as savagely as I was capable of. She resumed her frantic bucking, now trying to launch me off the couch. It took only a few thrusts before we were both climaxing, in my case the most wonderful and satisfying orgasm I think I had ever had in my life up to that time.

As we lay there exhausted, I heard Donner's voice say, "And that's what you'll get out of it, Mr. Ellison. Before you do anything else, clean your slut's messy cunt."

I turned and looked at him. While we had been furiously fucking, he had, obviously, gone into the kitchen and gotten one of the chairs, which had plasticized cushions, unlike the living room chairs. He was now seated on it, still naked and facing us lying on the couch. I dove back into Leanne's cunt and hungrily licked my own cum out of her, eliciting many gasps and moans from her as I attacked her sensitive clit. I had to grasp her around the ass to keep her from bucking my face off her. Finally, after another screaming orgasm she pushed me away, begging me to let her recover.

"OK, that's enough," he said, "Get off the couch and kneel there, facing me, I have something to tell you both."

We both struggled off the couch and knelt on the floor, next to each other, and facing him, still sitting on our kitchen chair, naked.

"In case you two haven't figured it out by now," he said, "You're both submissive. I guessed it about you both while working on the portrait months ago. I knew you (gesturing to Leanne) had a slut hidden inside you waiting to get out, and I figured that since you (pointing to me) were spying on what I was doing with her and probably jacking off over it, that you had the same tendencies."