Soap On A Rope

I had all but forgotten our big fight by the time we broke away from the remainder of the party and headed for the elevator. It had been a great evening and Marie and I had a nice time catching up with family and friends gathered from all over the country for the celebration.

We waved and smiled as the doors slid shut and cut us off from the noise and bright lights of the hotel lobby, like the throwing of a magical mute switch. But as soon as we were by ourselves I realized that her jovial attitude had been nothing but a skilled act, and the time had come to drop the curtain. Oh yes, our fight was still on and our nice evening together had done nothing to change that. Marie's brilliant smile melted away like a thin sheet of ice in the spring to be replaced by an expression of stony contempt.

I slumped my shoulders and sighed.

I was rewarded with a scowl before she turned to press the button. She ignored me for the duration of the elevator ride and when we arrived at the eight floor she walked briskly ahead of me as if we were two strangers who just happened to be going in the same direction.

To be honest I didn't mind the walking ahead part too much because it provided me with an excellent view. Even pushing forty and after having given birth twice Marie was still a sight to behold. Her long curly red hair and the way the green silk dress clung to her fit but deliciously curved body made her look ten years younger. Hell, if we weren't married already I'd have bagged her ass faster than a cheetah in heat. My cock agreed with the assessment and I felt a telltale stiffness in my nether regions. I guessed I would need a long cold shower before bedtime.

We reached the door to our room and Marie held out her hand for the keycard. As I handed it over she spotted my straining crotch area.

"In your dreams buster," she sneered and opened the door to our suite.

Yep, a long cold shower indeed.

****

I sat on the bed releasing my sore feet from my shiny but not very comfortable dress shoes attempting to reason with my grumpy wife.

"God dammit Marie! You've been pissed for over a week now. I'm really sorry I accepted the invitation without checking with you first. But it's Harrys wedding for God's sake and I thought..."

Marie came out from the bathroom all guns blazing.

"And it's our first vacation together for over a year Dave! Did you realize that? I had reservations for a bungalow in a quiet Bermuda beach resort where we could have relaxed and recharged our batteries. Made love under a moonlit sky to the sound of the ocean and the tropical night."

She inhaled sharply in preparation for the coup de grace.

"But instead we find ourselves STUCK IN ANNOYING LAS FUCKING VEGAS WITH SOME OF THE MOST ANNOYING MEMBERS OF YOUR ANNOYING FAMILY!"

I wisely said nothing.

Stomping angrily back to the bathroom Marie swallowed a couple of sleeping pills and washed them down with a glass of water. She then proceeded to drop her robe and slip on the ugly pink "no sex tonight"-shirt she sometimes slept with when the temperature was low. And despite this being Nevada there was definitely a chill in the air when she slid under the blanket facing away from me and turned out the bedside light in her side.

"Fucking sand all over the place but no beach," she mumbled sourly.

I couldn't help myself. "So I got it fifty percent right, didn't I?"

"Fuck you Dave," she sneered.

I was considering a smooth retort along the line of 'Yes please', but decided to curb my teasing. I don't know whether or not it's true what they say about redheads and temper, but Marie was living proof that the saying was fitting for at least one of them.

So I decided to refrain from tempting fate and settled for a "Goodnight honey."

I didn't expect a reply and, as predicted, none was given.

****

Sure, I knew my loving wife well.

Which is what you would expect after fifteen, mostly happy, years of marriage. In fact I was still every bit as much in love with her on that day as I had been on our wedding day, and our kids couldn't have wished for a better mom. Add to this the fact that our sex life was good and reasonably frequent -- except when she was pissed at me - and it should be evident why I generally was as happy as a pig in mud. Marie was the love of my life, period.

"But she can sure as hell carry a grudge," I sighed as I leaned back on the bed with my hands behind my head.

Sometimes I wished she would just blow the hell up and get it over with. Go nuclear on me, smash a few plates, scream till the neighbors call the police, go out with her friends and get shitfaced while agreeing that all men are assholes and so on. But no Sir - not my Marie. She would punish me relentless with a wall of silent resentment for days, weeks and sometimes even months.

And no sex of course.

Goes without saying.

Damn...

****

I woke up on the bed fully clothed. Shit! I couldn't afford to mess up the suit - it was needed for the following day and there was no time to get it pressed. My watch showed 2 a.m. and my mouth tasted like stale alcohol. Yuck! To top it off I needed to pee like a racehorse. I got up and staggered to the bathroom still feeling the effect from the wine and the - way too many - drinks.

After a quick shower and the usual bathroom activities my clothes were folded up neatly, the suit looked salvageable and I was ready for bed. Actually I was ready for fucking Marie but the way things looked at the moment the bed would have to do. The bed as in, 'a place for sleeping.'

I opened the bathroom door and froze in my tracks. There was somebody on the bed next to her!

Crap!

A slightly pudgy middle-aged guy as far as I could tell. My best guesstimation would be mid fifties and his wrinkled white shirt and black pants pegged him as a hotel guest who had been partying too hard and too wet. Not unlike like the one I saw in the mirror before my shower, except for the fact that I was younger, slimmer and my suit looked better.

All this information zipped through my brain in an instant while I was struggling to process the fact that the guy also had a hand under the nightshirt of my sleeping wife.

I quickly withdrew to the bathroom and closed the door. Oh shit! There was no telling what type of person this guy might be. Logically he was probably just what he looked like - a drunken partygoer who had entered the wrong room - but in theory he could be some kind of hotel rapist in disguise. The guy looked fairly big too and probably had at least 50 pound on me. Not good, even if it wasn't pure muscle.

A weapon!

Fuck yeah! I needed a goddamned weapon. Preferably a rocket launcher or an AK-47 - but lacking those options, at least something heavy and deadly.

A quick inventory of the bathroom made me settle for a fairly massive Soap-on-a-Rope. I hefted the braided cord in my hand and immediately felt a lot better. Apparently the intruder was still unaware of my presence so I would have the element of surprise on my side too. Not bad odds, as they say in Vegas.

"This is the most powerful hand soap in the world. C'mon punk. Make my day."

Yeah I'm a goofball sometimes. So sue me.

I killed the bathroom lights and carefully opened the door to the main suite, ready to sneak up on the dude ninja-style and soap his wife-groping ass with extreme prejudice.

I peeked out.

Yep, he definitely had a hand between my still sleeping wife's legs and it was now so far wedged in between her thighs there was no telling what exactly he was fondling in there.

"Bastard," I thought to myself. "Get ready for some serious punishment"

But for some reason I didn't move.

Fuck!

I was just standing there like an idiot watching some stranger finger my wife! It wasn't that I was paralyzed or anything like that. Not at all. But of a sudden I simply didn't 'want' to move.

What the hell was wrong with me? The asshole was groping Marie for Christ sake! I've decked people for less. At the very least I should have dragged him out of our bed and stomped his cheating gonads to mush. But I did nothing. Nada. Zilch.

At this point I realized that my cock stood straight out like a flagpole on a building. Obviously my little head was every bit as fascinated by the view as my big head. Yep, that's one of the problems with being naked. It's really hard to hide your true feelings.

Right there and then I made the pivotal decision of the night: I was 'not' going to interfere.

Oh, make no mistake. At the first sign of any hurt to my wife the last thing he would remember before waking up in a hospital bed would be the terrifying sight of a naked man with a hard-on entering from the bathroom and proceeding to beat him to a bloody pulp with a Soap-on-a-Rope. Marie was a bitch but she was MY bitch, and I would die before letting anybody hurt her.

In any event hurting her seemed far from the guys mind. Quite the contrary I would say, and I could swear that Marie had moved her upper leg slightly in order to allow him easier access to the goodies - almost as if she liked the attention. Maybe she thought it was me? Or maybe she was having one of her helpless-in-the-hands-of-Brad-Pitt dreams?

The idea made my cock even harder, if there is such a thing as 'harder than hard', and I began stroking myself.

A few minutes later the guy withdrew his hand and licked his thumb. Guess there was little doubt about what finger he had used and where he had used it. He seemed to like the taste because his next dirty deed was unzipping his pants and sliding them off. His cock, now freed from any constraining garments, stood out in firm readiness.

Yes I DID take note of the size. Hey! I'm a guy, ok? Competition is in my very blood and my caveman-brain demanded that I assessed him.

He wasn't huge, but from where I stood it looked as if he might have had a bit over me. Lengthwise we were fairly equal, but it was clear that his cock was thicker than mine and had an almost ridiculously large head. It looked like a mutant mushroom from Planet X. The whole thing was poking out from a thick unruly nest of curly grey hair, indicating a disdain for grooming and manscaping.

"If he's married somebody ought to give his wife a fucking weed whacker for Christmas," I mused. "Marie would freak, if she was conscious."

Pants discarded the guy rolled into a spooning position, and though his cock was now out of sight it was clear that he was masturbating against her. The whole idea was mind-blowing to say the least and I had to retreat to the bathroom and chew down on a towel for a minute in order to still my ragged breathing.

Man, I felt like a sick son of a bitch. Oh I said that already? Right.

Regaining my composure I returned to my spot in the darkened doorway.

The guy was no longer masturbating. Instead he was pushing his groin against Marie's ass in an obvious attempt to enter her. Apparently not successfully because he immediately changed his approach. With a strained groan he got up on his knees, rolled Marie onto her stomach and spread her legs. She still didn't react as he unceremoniously moved his bulk between her thighs and proceeded to lie down on top of her.

After a bit of wriggling his pale hairy ass began moving back and fort in a steady rhythm and at this point there was no mistaking what was happening.

The guy was fucking Marie.

I palmed my face for a second and once again raged against my own passivity. "What the fuck is wrong in this scenario? Some idiot is literally raping my sleeping wife right before my eyes! And I'm standing here like a moron! What the fuck? This is sick. I've gotta do something..."

But still I didn't do shit, other than standing transfixed in the shadow of the dark doorway kneading my iron hard cock and shaking with excitement while Mr. Mushroom-dick pounded away in the pussy that had been my exclusive domain for almost two decades.

Marie supplied the next surprise when she suddenly orgasmed.

How I could tell?

Well, after watching her do it thousands of times over the years I knew the signs intimately. First she went rigid as a board for a few seconds, which was easy to tell from the way her feet stretched. Then, as the tension was released, she convulsed in a series of little orgasmic spasms accompanied by suitable "ugh" sounds as if somebody was punching her stomach. I knew from experience that her pussy would be squeezing his cock powerfully at this point thanks to her regular kegels, and that never failed to get me off if I happened to be inside her at the time.

Yeah after years of marriage I knew my wife's orgasmic response like the palm of my hand and if she didn't get off in a major way right there you can tattoo a bowtie on my ass and call me Rumpelstiltskin. So I guess I was right. She DID enjoy it - at least on a subconscious level.

I increased the intensity of my wanking, with the intention of timing my ejaculation with the dude. That would mask my gasping in case he had good hearing. Sure I felt superior brandishing the invincible Soap-on-a-Rope of Doom (tm) in my left hand, but as the kung-fu master said, "the sweetest victory is achieved without fighting."

However to my astonishment he kept pumping that pussy as if he hadn't noticed a damn thing. Worse, he didn't even 'attempt' to follow her orgasm with his strokes. Marie's pleasure clearly wasn't a concern for this asshat. He was simply using her for getting off. Treating her like nothing more than a common jizz rag...

Not that my own conduct was any better, now that I though about it. However she was my wife and spouses are allowed to use each other for sexual pleasure. Mr. Fearless_Fuzzdick on the other hand was a guest and had NO business disrespecting Marie. I filed my resentment for later retrieval.

Checking my watch I noticed that it had been a full 10 minutes! This guy had some real stamina for sure. Not that it would save him from my wrath of course, but I was grudgingly impressed. At this intensity I would have blown my wad by now or at least have been forced to take a cunnilingus-break or two.

Another mystery was how the hell Marie could have had her mind blown in the orgasmic sense of the word without waking up -- sleeping pills or not.

Well, turned out she couldn't. She was gradually beginning to move and shift under Mr. Steam_hammer. Probably in an attempt to turn around and see what was going on, but to no avail. The guy didn't even change his cadence and proceeded to ignore her. Groaning Marie struggled on for a minute or two, apparently still only half awake.

I heard her drowsy voice, "Dave...get...what are... you.... what... oh... oh...GOD!"

The last yell cut off sharply as another raging orgasm surged through her body. And this one was clearly significantly higher on the Richter scale. The spasms made her buckle under the guy like a rodeo bull and the usual "ugh"-sounds were now replaced by a series of loud screams. She held on to the bedposts for dear life and Mr. Pumpington even had to shift his position slightly in order to keep her pinned.

Yet STILL he didn't falter. I mean, come ON! This idiot had now been sliding his fat cock back and forth in my wife for the better part of fifteen minutes and survived two of her most powerful orgasms ever, without giving any indication of even being on the edge. He was fucking her like a dyke with a strap-on, oblivious of anything except pumping her pussy.

Correction: MY pussy.

Despite my arousal I started to feel pangs of jealousy and tightened my grip on the Soap-on-a-Rope. The fact that Marie had stopped fighting and appeared to be pushing back against his strokes to get him deeper might have had something to do with my rising feelings of regret.

"She's not supposed to enjoy herself too much, dammit!"

Maybe it was time for me to put a stop to this game.

But my throbbing and precum dripping cock clearly disagreed, so I didn't stop it. If I had ever been this aroused before I couldn't remember when, and there was no room left for rational thoughts in my head.

At that point I had to make a conscious effort to avoid touching my cock because I was only a couple of strokes away from orgasm. And there was NO fucking way I was gonna stand here shooting off while somebody else had his cock in MY p...

I heard Marie's voice again; "Oh Jesus. Oh God. Shit! Shit! Shit!"

And yet another strong orgasm crashed into her like an all-consuming tidal wave. She thrashed even wilder than before and clawed uncontrollably at the sheets while emitting a series of hoarse tortured screams that hardly sounded human. This could have been a scene from The Exorcist if there had been a catholic priest and a few buckets of green goo near the bed... and of course if there hadn't been a big hairy ass moving up and down between her flailing legs.

Finally it seemed like Mr. Fuck-a-palooza had reached the end of his uncanny endurance. With a final power-stroke he slammed his cock as far as possible inside my wife while roaring like a sumo-wrestler with really bad hemorrhoids taking a shit.

This pushed Marie over the edge and right into the path of another orgasmic tsunami that launched her into a complete frenzy. I had never seen or heard her act like that before and I was almost grateful for the 220 pounds of man-meat holding her in place. She screamed like a banshee and ground against the guy while I could only assume that his cock was busy pumping her full of his seed.

I wish I could have seen my own facial expression right there. My unprotected fertile wife was completely out of control with raw animalistic lust and was milking this asshole stranger like there was no tomorrow!

This was so wrong!

This was so dangerous!

This was the fucking most exhilarating experience of my life!

And then it was my turn to loose it.

A warm buzzing feeling spread out from my groin and I came like never before. Sure I've read about whole-body orgasms but never actually believed in them or experienced one. Not until that moment. I didn't even touch my cock but was vaguely aware that it had started shooting spurts of cum while I staggered back inside the bathroom and dropped to the floor. Yep, that orgasm literally swept me off my feet, and for a while I was on the floor enveloped in a cloud of pure orgasmic bliss.

Oh my fucking god it was intense!

****

In the afterglow I slowly regained my composure and got shakily to my feet. For a second I fought the urge to lie down and go to sleep on the spot. Nope -- couldn't do that. I needed to check on Marie right away, and it was also high time for Mr. Hairy_butts to vacate the premises, - voluntarily or otherwise. My orgasm heralded the return of my jealousy and ability to reason - and this time my little head was too spent to protest. I wanted the guys ass GONE with a capital G - even if it meant using the Soap-on-a-Rope.

Fortunately for him he had left the room already. I found Marie alone on the bed -- once again unconscious - and I could hear sounds from the entryway as if the door to our suite was open. I quickly donned a complimentary hotel robe and ran to the door.

It was indeed wide open and a tall slightly chubby middle aged man was standing outside in the hallway glancing confused from side to side as if he didn't quite know where he was or how he got there. His eyes looked unfocused and he was holding his pants in his hand instead of wearing them. Under his loose shirt I spotted the dripping tip of the cock that had just given my wife a great fuck with multiple orgasms. A stranger's cock drenched in Marie's juices. My anger rose.

The guy turned to me without any sign of recognition and muttered something sounding like "Woh..."

That was all he had time to say before I swiftly grabbed his pants and unceremoniously slammed the door in his face.