The Pleasure of Strangers

An extensive re-working of "Dinner Interrupted"

*

Chapter 1

Its hard to believe it happened. The whole experience was so other-worldly. But the blood I cleaned from my bra and the carpet left no doubt it had happened.

Gary had told me on the phone during the day that he was having a rough one. OK, I thought, I'm his wife and partner. I can't change what's happening at the office, but I can make him feel better once he gets home. I'll prepare a dinner of comfort food, then I'll provide him with comfort of another kind. I've always been a can-do girl and this was something I knew I could do.

It was warm so I planned dinner on our patio. It's quite a private place. Lush plantings offer beauty and privacy on either side while the back lawn flows into a dense wood. Often after dinner, we'll sit with a glass of wine. Soon our bodies would be entwined. A chaise with a thick pad has frequently, blissfully cushioned my hips. This could be one of those times after, or, if he wanted, during dinner. We'd either just stay out on the patio until we were exhausted or have dessert in the bedroom. Just to be sure I prepared both places for an evening of sex.

I was getting aroused just doing the planning.

I began to consider my attire for the evening. I didn't want to be naked when he got home, of course. That would too much, though he does like that on occasion. Tonight I wanted to be dressed so even with his mind on a bad work day, there could be no question where the evening would end.

I went to the bedroom thinking about what I wanted him to see when he walked in the door this evening. Looking in the mirror I saw an attractive young wife, hair pinned up, dressed in an old t-shirt and cutoffs. Old tennis shoes and white socks completed the outfit.

I loosened my hair letting it fall to my shoulders. That was a start. I brushed it to put some shine in it.

What would he like to see when he got home? What outfit would tell him what I wanted him to know? I kicked my shoes to the side and pulled my socks off.

The t-shirt followed and lay at my feet. The shapeless bra had to go, too. I unfastened it and let it slide slowly down my arms, the way he liked. I paused, watching in the mirror as my breasts were bared and my nipples appeared. I let it fall, just the way he liked.

Looking at myself in the mirror again I felt good about my body, especially my breasts. He never failed to complement their size and smoothness, and the way the nipples turned up, just a bit especially when they were hard. He loved to cup my breasts and suck on my nipples.

I positioned my hands under them touching them lightly. Looking at myself in the mirror sent a small thrill down my body covering me with goosebumps. It was almost like watching someone else touching me. I raised my breasts slightly feeling their weight, sensing their softness as I stroked slowly.

God was I getting hot.

I let them down. Still moving my hands slowly and watching myself in the mirror I found the button on my shorts and opened them. I folded the fabric back at the fly as I pulled the zipper down. I watched intently as my panties come into view. With the zipper down, I let the shorts fall and stepped out of them.

My panties would have to go as well. Hipster cut, fairly opaque they did nothing really sexy. Should I wear a thong?

From my drawer I pulled a thong and a rather sheer pair of bikini cut panties. I pushed the hipsters to the floor then stood, a naked girl in the mirror.

I let the panties I was holding drop and stood gazing narcissisticly in the mirror. I liked what I saw and I knew Gary liked it too. As I thought about the evening, I began to lightly tease my nipples. They hardened. Maybe I'm not supposed to, but I watched in the mirror as my nipples engorged.

Spreading my legs I continued to watch myself as I lightly circled my clit with my finger. It felt so good and I felt so naughty masturbating in front of a mirror. It was hypnotic watching my finger, feeling my increasing arousal. I stared at my pussy and my circling finger as I fantasized about tonight. I could almost feel Gary's cock entering me. I slid a finger inside as though it was Gary. Spreading my lips, I watched myself put a second finger where his cock would go.

Oh, god, it felt so good. I pulled them out. I pushed them back in. It wasn't long before, almost involuntarily, the speed and force increased. I began to pant. I dripped on the floor. Finally I put my head against the mirror and finished with my heart racing.

Would it be OK if I did just once more?

I found I had no choice. Still panting and leaning against the mirror, I closed my eyes and circled my clit until that intense thrill swept through my body again.

I stopped, almost painfully wanting more. Needed to save something. No, just a little more. I found my nipple rouge and began lightly coloring the tips of my breasts. I was sure it was OK to rub my nipples as long as I was coloring them. It felt so good. Don't do it enough to cum again. Stop now.

I did. I stopped. I sat for a few minutes to calm my sexual flush.

When my breathing slowed, I pulled on the thong. No, I thought, it just wasn't right for tonight. Too slutty. The bikini cut seemed a good compromise. Their sheerness was about right and they weren't as slutty as the thong. Just about right I thought.

I selected a bra to go with the panties. It was sheer without being transparent, and low cut; a good companion to the panties. When he got my shirt off, he'd be able to see the color of my nipples through the bra. Likewise, when my shorts were off he'd have a good view of what lay beneath my panties. Should I add color there, too, I wondered. Maybe just a little. It felt so good.

The afternoon was waning. I needed to finish getting ready. Underwear on I added a casual, but low cut t-shirt and a pair of shorts. The t-shirt was a light blue and cut low enough that any woman with even the slightest cleavage would attract a man's eye. The tightness would reveal even the tiniest hardening of my nipples; sexy enough even a husband would notice.

The navy shorts showed off my legs well, but were long enough that my cheeks weren't rudely exposed. They were just tight enough that they gave me a slight camel toe. He always noticed that on me, and other women.

Finally, I decided I'd go barefoot. I think there's something about a barefoot wife that makes her appear submissive. Gary likes me to be submissive, though not all the time, but that's another story.

Dinner would be simple, a couple of steaks from the freezer with classic trimmings. I'd be the dessert.

The whole plan was simple. He'd come in to find me barefoot in the kitchen. I'd make him a drink. We'd sit on the deck for a few minutes and talk. He'd change and I'd assign him to do the steaks on the grill. I'd get him a beer and we'd chat while he did the steaks.

We'd eat and clean up.

Through all of this I'd be making it clear that I was looking forward to having that hard prick of his stuck well up my pussy. I'd take him to the bedroom and let it happen. I fully expected that by the time I got to the bedroom, I'd be completely naked. There was some possibility that we'd never make it to the bedroom. As I said earlier it was possible that the patio would suffice for at least the first time around.

I was hot again, but I didn't go back to the mirror.

Chapter 2

By the time I expected Gary home, I had everything in place including perfume between my breasts and in other essential areas.

Six fifteen or so the door opened. Gary said something like Hi, but he never got it out. A loud crashing and stamping accompanied by Gary shouting at someone telling them to get out. I started for the door, but was met by Gary being pushed into the kitchen by another man. I could see a woman in the background.

Gary turned to try to hit his assailant, but his assailant managed to hit him again and again. I screamed, as Gary fell and lay still. I dropped to my knees to see how badly hurt he was. He was bleeding and groggy. I had no idea how badly hurt he might be.

The attacker grabbed me by my hair and pulled me to my feet. "Shut up," he screamed in my face. Spittle accompanied his outburst landing on my cheek and nose. He backhanded me knocking me to the floor. I was so confused I stopped screaming and suddenly everything became quiet.

"That's better," he said. "Now, lie flat on the floor spread eagle. Don't move and don't make any noise."

He was big, he was mean, and he had some sort of handgun. I did what he told me to do. Turning my head I could just see him out of the corner of my eye.

He ignored me as I lay on the cool linoleum floor except to look in my direction occasionally as if to be sure I didn't move. He raised Gary and put him in one of our kitchen chairs. I couldn't believe how strong he was. He had brought rope which he used to tie Gary to the chair. He told me to get on my hands and knees and crawl ahead of him as he and the woman dragged the chair with Gary tied to it into the living room.

I got on my hands and knees and did as he ordered. We moved slowly across the kitchen floor, across the hallway and into the living room. I got as far as the middle of the living room before he told me to stop. Throughout the short journey I was trying to think of how I was going to get us out of this, even though I wasn't really sure what was going on.

"Who are you," I stammered. "What are you doing here? What do you want?"

The man came over to where I cowered on all fours. "Stand up," he shouted down at me. He sounded so very angry I obeyed as quickly as I could. As soon as I was on my feet he backhanded me again knocking me to the floor. I hit my head on the way down opening a cut on my forehead. I put my hand to my face and found blood coming from my mouth and from the cut on my head. I burst into tears.

"Do you understand, 'Shut Up'," now," he yelled leaning down into my face. I nodded and said nothing further.

"We are your worst nightmare, lady. You will do everything we tell you to do, when we tell you to do it. You got that? Just nod."

I nodded, cringing, afraid of another blow.

"Now stand up."

I stood. Fearful of being hit again I kept my head down.

"You and I are going to find some rags and a pair of scissors," he hissed in my face. "Now move."

I led him back to the kitchen and offered a pair of kitchen scissors and some rags. "These should do fine. Now back to your husband."

Again I led the way dripping blood on the floor and carpet. This time he didn't make me crawl.

"Gag him," he said handing a rag of about the right size to me.

Gary was still out of it, but seemed to be breathing OK. I took the rag and tied it loosely around his mouth in the form of a gag. Observing that the gag was not especially tight the man said, "That will be OK if everybody cooperates. If not, that gag will go inside his mouth and tight around his head. He could suffocate that way because I don't think he's breathing too well through his nose. You got that? Just nod." I nodded.

"Take the scissors and cut off all his clothes," was the next command.

I almost said 'What?', but the thought of being backhanded again restrained me.

I began cutting. It was very difficult to cut his clothes off while trying to avoid cutting him and cutting the rope. (I was so closely watched that I didn't dare cut the rope.) A gun to Gary's head made me submissive to each directive.

I started with his shirt. It took quite a while to reduce the shirt to rags and completely expose his upper body.

"Keep going," he said nudging me with the pistol so hard that it was more like being pistol whipped.

I looked at what was left and decided on the shoes and socks next. They went quickly requiring no cutting. I unfastened his belt and opened his pants. I was able to get him unzipped which isn't easy for a man who is sitting.

I mouthed, 'Can I speak'.

"Quietly," he said.

"If you will pull him up a bit, I can pull his pants down. Then you could untie one leg at a time and I can pull his pants off. That would be easier than cutting them off."

He thought about it for a moment and agreed.

Working together, we managed. As his ankles were being bound to the chair again, I looked at what I'd done. Gary now sat in the chair, still quite groggy, completely naked and securely bound. I wondered what he, or I, or the both of us had done to deserve this. There was no option for asking, however, so I kept quiet and waited.

"You will stay where we can see you at all times. Do you understand? Just nod." I nodded.

I stared at Gary. He continued to come around for which I was grateful. He looked really sexy there trussed up and naked. It reminded me of the times we'd done things like this before. We liked to have 'those kinds of parties'.

At one party we'd had he'd been bound in a standing position. We'd lost a sporting bet. I'd been stripped completely naked by the winner of the bet, and 'forced' to give Gary a blow job.

Another time we'd won a game or bet or something and Gary had made the female loser let him take off her shirt and bra and play with her breasts.

All of those were just in fun and each time everybody ended up screwing their spouse. Well, almost every time. This could have been something similar except for the violence. I began to wonder if this was to have been something like that and things had just accidentally gotten out of hand. These two looked too serious for that, though. Still, I wondered.

He noticed me staring at Gary. "That's a pretty small prick," he said. "Just nod if it gets bigger when it gets hard," he asked sarcastically. I nodded. Why the stupid question, I wondered.

"Hold your hands apart to show me how big it gets." I held up my hands to indicate what I thought was about right.

"That big enough for you," he asked again in the same sarcastic tone. I nodded, getting really nervous about where this was headed.

"Get it hard. I want to see how big it gets." Through all of this he was gesturing with his gun. It made me very nervous.

Gary was still out it and this wasn't exactly a sexual moment. I didn't know if I could do it. He saw my reluctance.

"Put it in your mouth and suck it good," he told me pushing me toward him. He forced me to my knees by pushing down on my shoulders.

I knelt and quite willingly took Gary in my mouth. I love to give him blow jobs. It gets him so hot and when he comes, he says it's one of the best orgasms. He always kisses me even when I have his cum in my mouth. So I sucked. Blood dripped onto his thigh. I felt his cock in my mouth getting harder as I sucked and stroked. When he was hard, I stopped and lifted my head. I pointed to it.

"Not bad," he said. "I want you to keep him hard so if you see that he's not hard, you suck him until he's good and hard."

Strange, I thought, but nodded. I stood and looked around questioningly.

He put the gun in a holster on his belt and came around behind me and, taking me roughly by the shoulders, turned me toward Gary. He said nothing, but pulled me tightly against his body. His breathing was slow. As he exhaled his breath flowed around my face. His breath smelled nut-like and was not unpleasant. His body smelled of the exertions of the evening. This manly odor of sweat tinged with effects of tension enveloped me as he pressed his body to mine.

He pinioned my arms against my body with his arms as he put his hands directly on my breasts. I know I startled a bit as I felt him grasp me tightly, but his touch was not unwanted. Having him hold me tightly against his muscular body, his hard cock against my butt was having it's intended effect. Gary was watching intently. I thought I saw his cock stiffen slightly as the man claimed me.

Not sure of what was happening, and becoming entranced with the moment, I made no move to object. The man's strong fingers began to massage my breasts firmly, but not harshly. The woman looked on with obvious interest, but made no move.

Through my light shirt he found and pulled gently at my nipples. They hardened under his touch and became much more sensitive. I think I groaned as I leaned into my captor. His mouth moved from the top of my head down over my ear. He lightly bit my earlobe, then rested his head with his mouth against my neck.

I leaned into him knowing he was now sensing the perfume I'd put on for Gary. I could feel him inhaling deeply.

Gary watched closely as the man used me as his own. Gary stayed hard. There was blood on my shirt, on the carpet, on Gary's thighs, and on his face, but our injuries were no barrier to the lust both of us were experiencing.

The man unfastened my shorts and pulled my shirt up.

Chapter 3

I kept thinking this might be a game. One that had just gotten more violent than usual. Or maybe this was the way this particular game was supposed to go. We liked games. Maybe this would turn out all right. Maybe not.

Our games were played among friends. These two weren't friends.

The blood was no longer dripping, but I still hurt. My mouth was swollen and I expected that my cheeks were bruised. Would this all end with Gary screwing this woman and the guy getting me. That might be the way a game would end.

But this just seemed too rough, too violent. Was this the next step in our games? Strangers bursting in. I didn't know what to think. I was scared and I hurt. I was also getting very aroused.

I tried to memorize what my captors looked like hoping to be able to describe them if I actually got out of this strange nightmare.

Memorizing his looks was made more difficult by his hand which had found its way inside my panties.

The guy was dressed in SWAT type get-up; black baggy cargo pants, heavy black long-sleeved shirt, and combat style boots. Height, "about 5' 10" ". If asked, all I would be able to say about his build was that he was "very appealing". What would the police think if I told them that his build was "very appealing"? I better come up with something else, I thought. Perhaps "muscular" would do.

As I developed this description I realized that I wanted to stop thinking of them as "the man" and "the woman". They needed names. I looked more closely the man whose reflection I could see in the glass of a picture on the wall. A man that very shortly might be lying atop me sucking at my freshly rouged nipples with his cock impaling me. I exhaled. (Stop thinking like that, I admonished myself.) I'd call him Pierce. He seemed to want to think himself as a James Bond character, so I decided to give him a Bond-type name.

So here it was, a guy and a woman I'd never seen before had burst into my house pushing my husband ahead of them and knocking him to the floor unconscious. They forced me to stand in front of my now naked and bound husband with one of them pulling my shirt up having already unfastened my shorts. No, this wasn't the same fun and games we played with our friends. "Pierce" was alternating between playing with my breasts and exploring my pussy. At some of our more interesting parties I'd had other men play with me this way, but this wasn't a party. And I wasn't being asked for permission.

I was facing Gary. I watched his cock as I had been instructed. It stayed hard as he watched Pierce run his hands over my bare belly. Pierce pulled the shirt up more. Slowly he uncovered my bra, but stopped at that point. He rubbed my belly again. He slid his hand into my panties. Once inside the elastic he slid his hand further down along my muff now seeking and finding my clit. I jumped back as he did, almost impaling myself on his hard cock.

My action only served to have him push harder both from behind and in front. I could feel his fingers circling my clit at first gently then slowly with increasing pressure. My mouth opened. My breathing increased. Keeping a finger on my clit, he inserted another and began to slide it in and out even as he continued rubbing my clit. My breathing betrayed me.