2 comments/ 26894 views/ 3 favorites Paying Him Back By: Gussie Fucking a friend's mistress, and more……….. Paul has always annoyed me. I do not know why I count him among my friends. May be it is because he attracts beautiful, vulnerable women. He remains a successful consultant physician, but he cannot keep his hand off his female patients. He had been through four wives when he met Val. One after another they left him. I knew them all, and I have remained friends with most of them, even after Paul had been ejected from their lives. Every time they left, for the same reason. They realised that he was carrying on with one patient after another. I do not understand why he hasn't been reported to the relevant medical authorities. He has not, so he continues to philander his was through life, believing that he is invulnerable. His last "proper" wife left when she realised that he had started up with Val. The latter was an unsuspecting housewife, mother, and businesswoman, who had become a patient. He decided that he fancied her, so he made his plays. He treated her husband like a cuckold, when he was actually the problem. He invited them to parties, then courted, and kissed, the poor girl openly in front of her delightful husband. He is a bastard, and it began to annoy the few friends he had left. It made me livid! This man is an only child. He was very spoilt. No, doting parents indulged him. He always "got his way", he would never take "no" for an answer. He finally stole Val when he arrived at her front door in the middle of the night demanding that she came to live with him. I had not met her when this happened, but he was always discussing how he would catch her, every time we talked on the ‘phone. It made me cross. Finally it annoyed me so much that I hung up on him. Yet she must have found something attractive in this spoilt brat. She walked out on her husband dressed only in a nightdress. I had been staying, with Paul, for the odd night or two every other month, when on business trips out of state. I realised that things were out of hand when I visited, to find that his last wife had left, and he could not stop talking about this "Val". A week later he stole her in the middle of the night. I put up with his sexual ravings for two selfish reasons. He has a fine wine cellar, so I could drink without driving, and he was cheaper than a hotel. Then I met her. She was about half his age, petite, and pretty. Mad curly, natural blond, hair spilt down to her shoulders. She was tiny, hardly five feet tall, but perfectly proportioned to my taste. I have always loved the company of small intelligent women. She was one. She had long legs, a small bottom, and, from what I could discern through her clothing, wonderful, small, rounded breasts. All this beauty was allied to a razor sharp mind. She was like a doll, and I lusted for her. Well not at first, but the more I got to know her, the more I wanted her myself. Paul continued his philandering ways, and I began to find excuse to stay a night, or two, more than I had previously. The habit developed for about a year and a half. I saw more, and more, of them both. Sometimes we would meet at the local Italian restaurant before I went to his house. It saved Val the bother of cooking. She had her own successful business, and did not particularly like cooking. I think he enjoyed my company, and was too engrossed in his own self to notice that I had begun to flirt openly with his new partner. I started to hope that she was enjoying my increased attention. She was reacting to my compliments. She would look down, blushing to the roots. Then slowly raising her eyes, sometimes to wink, or smile slightly, when our eyes met again. We were about sixteen months into our friendship before I knew that I was having the right effect. We were in a restaurant eating dinner. Val and I were sitting side by side. Paul was opposite. He was engrossed in his own importance, talking away, probably to himself. I lent over to her, and whispered: "I love your clothes tonight, where do you buy them?" Paul went on talking, she whispered back: "I will tell you later." She appeared to be wearing skin tight Lycra, and nothing else, except for a light shawl, that made everything passably discrete. I had only seen dress like this, once before, on a cross-country skiing holiday. A beautiful Dutch ballet dancer skied with us every day. She wore an all over skin, and nothing else. It showed every detail of her body. It was the brightest scarlet, she was a superb skier, and might as well have been nude. Her breasts were small, and perfect. Her nipples appeared continuously erect, and her cunt lips, and ass crack, were completely outlined as the Lycra stretched between her legs. Val was dressed in the same manner, except that her skin was very dark blue. It was the first time that I saw the outline of her nipples. I had to imagine that her cunt lips would also be visible. Her hand lightly touched my knee. It slid far up towards my crutch, her fingers executed a playful dance on my inner thigh, then they vanished. Paul continue to rant on oblivious of this. She did not tell me about her clothes. He was already hurting her. I knew his ways. I had seen it all before, so I invited him out to lunch at the best local restaurant. He waxed lyrical about her from the moment that we were seated. I had heard it all before. Each time he extolled the virtues of the four wives, and other "friends", whom he slotted in between. I stopped him dead. I told him that I was fed up with his behaviour, and that I could not understand how he got away with it. I said that, of all his women, Val was the best, and that, at his age, he would not find another. Then I said: "If you do not stop, I will personally report you to the authorities." "She has told me how you arrived, like a spoilt child, in the middle of the night. She told me how you sat, horn blaring, while she argued for you to stop". "I do not understand why her husband did not go to the authorities about you." He blustered over the last comment, becoming steadily more furious that I was challenging his ground. Finally his temper got the better of him, he jumped up, clenching a fist across the table, and shouted: "How dare you threaten me"? My reply was very measured. Other diners were looking at us. They were staring at him. I growled, very quietly, in a completely calm voice: "Sit down, shut up, and listen." "I am much bigger, and stronger, than you. If you hit me, I will prosecute you for common assault, and you will definitely loose everything." He sat down, still boiling with rage, but completely deflated. About two weeks later a business meeting finished early. It was the Friday before Halloween, which that year fell on the Sunday. I had arranged to stay the night with them as usual. I ‘phoned the house to see if I could arrive early. Val was there alone. She was sobbing, as she said: "Please come as quickly as you can. We need to talk." I clambered into my car, and covered the fifteen miles exactly at the speed limits. She was at the door as I locked my car, tears flooding down her face. She did not say hallo; there was no welcome. She turned, and led me into the kitchen. The front door gently shut, and she faced me. I was amazed to see that she was wearing the skin again, and nothing else. More importantly, her right wrist was in plaster. She began to talk. The gist of the story of her injury was as follows. His reputation was so bad that she had already been warned that he would continue to philander. She knew his last ex-wife, whom I also knew. Bizarrely they had become good friends, and she had come to warn her. She had realised that Val was slipping further into his grasp, and, out of love for her, wanted it to stop. Once Val's tear flow had slowed down I asked about the plaster. There had been an argument three nights before. She wanted a big Halloween party. He only wanted a few friends, so he could show off and drink. The argument began to turn nasty. She was holding her own, telling him that she knew what he was doing, and that it had to stop. She raised her arm to wipe the mass of curly hair from her face. He interpreted this action as though this small, beautiful woman was going to strike him. He grabbed her wrist so hard that he cracked a bone. He had no feeling about what he had done, although it calmed him down. All he could say was that she should tell everybody that she had tripped down stairs. I was the only one who knew the truth. As she calmed down I saw more of what she was not wearing. Somehow, even with her right wrist in plaster, she had managed to dress in the one-piece Lycra skin. It began to drive me nuts! Every inch of that beautiful petite frame was only covered by a single, micron thick, layer of three way stretch material. She was as exposed as the gorgeous ballet dancer had been. Her breasts were tiny round globes. They might have been enhanced, but they were very small, and I doubted it. Her nipples stood straight out on the peak of each. The material was thin enough for me to distinguish the change of surface where her areola began. It followed her contours exactly. She could have been nude, but a layer of slightly glossy dark blue, paint like, material covered her. She knew exactly how sexy she looked. I said: You realize that you are turning me into a lecherous old man like Paul." She replied that I could never be like him, but personally I was not sure. All men can be bastards when it comes to sex. She allowed her knees to fall apart. I had been right in the restaurant. Her labia major, even the outline of her minora, and her clitoris, were sculptured, yet covered by the stretch material. This was showing a slight change in color. She was bare beneath the stretch skin, very exposed, very vulnerable. It appeared that was how she wanted to be. She wanted to show me her arousal. We began to talk about Paul. My reaction was to tell her to leave him immediately. She would not hear of it. I told her that it wasn't the first time that he had been violent towards a loved one. She was adamant that she would stick it out. I went through all the alternatives. She began to expand on her relationship. I have said that she was a successful businesswoman. She had never taken a penny of Paul's money, and was even paying "rent" at $150.00 per week towards the enormous house. She had paid for all the redecoration, and the new kitchen out of her own pocket. He had not said a thing, or offered to help. This interested me enormously, because Paul was not poor. He was a very wealthy man having been left money, plus property, by his doting parents, and various other members of his family. It amused me that his behaviour towards Val's upkeep might be backing him into more of a legal quagmire. She had not realised that this could be the case. The thought also amused her enormously. She sprang from the stool where she had perched, and darted around the kitchen table. Her arms, even the one in plaster, were flung around my neck. I braced my back muscles as the hard plaster hit. She leapt up, knees apart, lower legs wrapping around me. She was glued to my middle like a young chimp to its mother. Then we were mashed together in a huge sloppy kiss. I gasped out: "I have wanted to do that for so long." She replied: "I know you have, and the feeling is mutual". We continued to kiss as my hands began to explore her body. I have a short tongue. She has a long one. It snaked around the inside of my mouth. She explored every nook and cranny, massaging my gums with the tip in a way that I had never experienced before. I held her tight by the waist, feeling that my enormous hands might completely encircle her tiny body. But her bum was only a few inches away, and her breasts were squashed against my business suit. My hands wanted to start a journey of discovery. Feeling her skin for the first time through that miraculous material was strange. She was pliant, fleshy and flexible, but the surface was slippery, and contained. My hands stayed holding her back tight to my body. I began to lust after her breasts. I broke our kiss, and brushed a run of kisses down her neck to exposed skin. She bent to allow me access. I kissed down the valley between her breasts. My goal came into view. My murmuring lips slowly caressed back onto the material, towards her rising. I could see the peak of her left nipple out of the corner of a half opened eye. Suddenly she was stock still, she knew where my mouth was heading, and played every part of her female guile to help me there. My mouth slithered onwards, leaving a drooling streak of saliva. She was rigidly erect as I opened my lips, and began to suck through that amazing material. Breast men, and I regard myself as one; do not simply kiss an offered nipple. They are annoyed by the cursory attention that ordinary mortals pay to that source of life. Porn films are the worst. Men have a quick grope, and a stupid pull, when the girl wants more. Breast men succor, they chew, they bite, they stretch, they kiss, they nuzzle. Most nipples respond correctly. They become engorged, longer, harder, firm and thicker. Many women can orgasm from careful attention to their breasts. Val, and her nipples, reacted to my ministrations. The extraordinary thing was that it did not matter that there was a thin skin of Lycra in the way. It moulded in everywhere, especially as a wet patch of slobber spread onto her breast. She moaned, and pressed my mouth harder to her body. Her little breast flattened against my face. I could hardly breathe. I opened my mouth as wide as possible. I felt as if I could swallow her complete breast, but my fingers had located the other nipple, and it required similar attention. Soon both teats were hard, and firm, on the tips of her globe shaped breasts. My hands went exploring. This gorgeous elf clung to my body. Her legs wrapped tighter, she was trying to entwine her feet in the small of my back. It made me realize that the more she stretched, the more exposed her cunt must be becoming. My hands followed my thoughts. Fingers caressed slowly down her spine, savoring the feeling of each node of her backbone, dancing. They massaged down to that little dent at the base. Had she been lying on her back, naked, I might have pooled a drop of spit into the hollow. It would have worked her into frenzy. She was not; she was taut, and stretched. I was still suckling her right nipple, when I reached the point of no return. My roving fingers moved on down the deepening, defining, crack to her back hole. My little fingers performed a circular dance at her entrance, before continuing on their path of discovery. She had stopped breathing. She knew where I would go next, and so did my fingers. I thought: "I wonder how miraculous this material really is." Then, simultaneously, I forced the two middle fingers of each hand upwards; scoring a direct hit on her hole of love, while I bit hard on her right nipple, and pulled it from her body. The reaction was extraordinary. My fingers had so much force in them that they began to lift her off my waist. She let out a long wail, and started to shudder, twitching through an enormous orgasm, that tightened her grip on my waist to a strangle hold. She screamed: "That is impossible, nobody has ever done that for me before". "Please continue to hold me, I cannot not stand." She continued to whimper; no, she continued to purr, as the involuntary twitching subsided. I looked down to see that I had bitten right through the fabric over her breast. I had formed a clean hole, with a gorgeous, wet, swollen nipple, sticking straight out into the evening air. Gingerly I moved my fingers, pressing into the boundaries of her cunt. The miracle material was intact, and I thought: "Well we can embroider something over the new hole". Val's reaction was more positive. She giggled an interpretation of my thoughts: "It is lucky that I have several of these. This one will have to be exclusively yours! Maybe we will modify it, with more holes, in the near future." What an invitation, I began to realize that I was capable of falling in love with this beautiful woman. Her next statement shocked me. She said: "Paul will be back soon, I doubt that he would understand what we are doing. He thinks I am totally his. Both he, and my husband, are in and out men, missionary only, and very boring". "Why don't you come with me while I change into another skin, I will need help." She took my hand, and we rushed up stairs to a room that, during her redecoration of the whole house, she had converted into her dressing room. It was a beautiful bright, feminine room bathed in the late afternoon sun. She dropped my hand and spun around on her Lycra clad feet. "A while ago, over dinner, you asked me how and where I found these skins". "Shortly after Paul stole me from my husband he went skiing. He insisted on going to his "favorite place". "I asked, if there was any good cross country. He could not have cared less." "I have always adored cross country, so I went on my own to a resort specializing in langlauf ". "They had these wonderful new all over skins, it was very hot, so I treated my self to six or seven." I told her of the beautiful Dutch dancer, with whom I had completed an Olympic 50 kilometer run. She wore an all over skin, and nothing else. It showed every detail of her body. It was the brightest scarlet, and she was a superb skier. Val said: I have blue, green, and red. Paul has seen me in the blue today, I think I should wear the second one now". "The only way in is like a sausage skin". I peel it on from the bottom up, and off in reverse. My daughter has been coming over to help, and I have to try not to pee". "I just struggle in the evenings. I will not ask Paul, but please can you help me now". She stood, facing me, looking completely defenseless, and shy. Her arms were down by her sides. She waited, obviously expecting me to peel the Lycra from her gorgeous body. I hooked three fingers into the shoulders of the scooped neckline, above where my kisses had so recently traced. I stretched the miraculous material until it was clear of her shoulders, and continued to peel it down her body. It was one of the most erotic things that I have ever done. There was I, still dressed in a dark blue, lightweight, three-piece suit. It was bespoke tailored, so I dressed well, but my penis was rampant, jutting straight out at the middle of her tummy. I was slowly peeling the clothes off this gorgeous girl, whom I had just given a massive orgasm. I continued to pull downwards. More, and more of her delectable flesh began to appear. Half the upper curve of her breasts was exposed, when I realised that I had her in a completely compromising position. Some of the stretch material was locking her arms to her sides. I leant forwards to whisper in her ear: "I have you trapped, but I am not going to take advantage of you this time, but I will at the next opportunity". Even then I could not resist a small temptation. One nipple was still exposed, and totally visible jutting out through our new hole; the other was rampant under the stretched skin. I am a biter. I bent, took the exposed nipple between my teeth, not as tightly as when she started her orgasm, but expertly, sucking the teat between my lips until I was at the root, where the form of her breast began. I clamped down hard, and let the taught tube stretch away as it ran between my teeth. My tongue followed the tip until I could feel the back of my teeth. I bit harder. Paying Him Back Vat was wriggling, and squirming. She was telling me to bite harder, but the clock was ticking, and I had another job to do. I let go of a huge right nipple, and grabbed the other, covered one, in the same way. This time I bit down harder, sliding the silky material down her nipple, stretching it away from her body, then "pop". My teeth came off the end, and I had another hole, with a perfect, engorged teat now visible. They were a matching pair, and she was having another giggling fit. I said: "Come on, we must finish dressing you before Paul returns". I began to peel again, simply pulling the fabric over her skin from either side, my hands sliding down her arms. Her areola appeared, and then the material began to pull on her nipples. These were trapped in sticky wet holes. They bent downwards as I slowly pulled the skin over her teats. Val watched fascinated. I was sure that she had never been undressed like this before. Suddenly the end of one nipple, then the other sprang free. Her breasts were truly gorgeous. Now I was sure that they were not enhanced in any way. There was little or no sag, just huge distended nipples on the end of pink globes. The Lycra continued down her body. Her belly button appeared, and I had to use both hands to ease the wristband over her injured arm. She stood still, although I think it hurt. That hand was free, so I used both my hands to free the other. Now I was kneeling in front of her. My face was inches from her navel; I could look up at her gorgeous breasts. I would have to bend a little to drink her aromas. I bent as I peeled both sides past her mons, and down her crack. I leant forwards, forming my mouth to kiss her. My lips brushed her mons, just as she let out a long sigh followed by a gently whispered: "Thank You". We both knew that our time would come, so I continued to peel. She lifted one foot the other, and was naked in front of me. I savored the moment. Sitting back on my haunches, knowing what was in store. I was looking at a beautiful young wine. I felt that we would mature together. She moved quickly, stretching for the clean undamaged, but otherwise identical blue skin. She handed it to me, lifted a foot, and I began to dress her. Rolling the body up her legs was simple; molding it to her folds was completely erotic. I stretched the material over her bum, and then began to work it to her shape. She was soaking wet, but after two orgasms I was not surprised. I had noticed that "our" skin was soaking, and imagined that this one would be in a very short time. I pulled the material tight, wondering how quickly a man and a woman could become intimate. Gently, very gently I picked out her labia, and crack, before leaning to kiss it again through the covering skin. I threaded her damaged wrist carefully onto the arm, as she managed to wriggle into the other. By now I was crouching, so I took a handful of the amazing material, and began to straighten up. The skin shot up her body, catching on the underside of her breasts, pulling them up her chest until the popped into place. She was skinned again in a trice. All that remained was for me to mould the material to fit her perfectly. I was buried in this, when we heard the front door open. Paul was home. I whistled: "Just in time! I am going to lie-down for a rest. Simply say that I arrived early with a head ache, but would like to take you both out to dinner". I tiptoed out of the room, across the landing, and into my normal room. I undid the buttons on my waistcoat, loosened my tie, and flung my jacket over the back of a chair. I was feigning sleep before Paul arrived on the same floor. It was a near miss; I thought that I saw his head on the half landing about twenty feet away. I was not waiting to check, but felt that it would have served him right had he found us, with her in a state of undress. Then I began to think. We had done nothing wrong. All that had happened was that I had given her two orgasms that she completely deserved, and I had helped her into her clean clothes. I was totally justified, helping a friend. I went to sleep. I have always been able to catnap, and I did so for around an hour. I was awoken by my elf shaking me. She was still dressed only in the skin. Her nipples were proudly prominent, and, from her odors, she was as aroused as when I left her. Apparently Paul was permanently barred from her Dressing Room. He only came to the top of the stairs. He did not suspect anything, had turned down again. He was fast asleep in front of the TV. I took her hand and pulled her down on top of my still clothed body. She rolled to one side. She might have been naked. Her body covering, her nipples, her smell, were all as though she was bare. We began to whisper again. She said: "It is Halloween this weekend. We are having a small party tomorrow night. Please can you stay, come to the party, and fuck me at it". "We will not do anything now, but will plan something for the party". "It will serve Paul right". I was flabbergasted, but whispered that I could wait to fuck her, although I might need some relief in the short term! She blushed a wonderful shade of pink, and said: "Silly me! I have been too selfish. I must be learning from him!" "Let me give you relief now, before he wakes up". Her left had begun to unzip my trousers. Fingers went into the gap in my jockey. I rolled onto my back, closing my eyes, savoring the moment. My eyes went like they were when I spied her nipple. I could just watch her movements. I was already rampant for the second time in a few hours; my balls were beginning to ache. Her fingers tented my briefs, releasing the head to her gaze. By now she was lying to one side in a fetal position, except that her head was on my lower stomach. She lay for a long moment gazing at my erection, gently, very gently, stroking it with her small hand. She said: "Oh! I like it. I love a long thin circumcised weapon!" Her fingers went tight around the root, pressing into me, pushing my balls out. She milked upwards; a glob of pre-cum oozed onto the naked head. Her little finger scooped it up, like a small jewel on the very tip. Her long tongue came out to taste, then she took it to her mouth, and licked it clean. I knew that I was in the hands of an expert. She rolled over to kneel beside my thighs. I watched her lick, and clean me all over. I was rampant, a hard steel rod, as she gently fished my balls clear, and took one in her mouth. She dropped that, then took the second before taking both. She knew I was on the edge of pain She began to stretch, taking the head into her tiny mouth. She did not waste time. I felt the tip hit the back, and begin to bend. It came back into view, and then she plunged down. I think it was my first experience of a full deep throat. Suddenly I felt my pubic bush against her face. My penis was tightly jammed into her throat. It was tighter than an ass fuck, and had the advantage that I did not have to expand her sphincter. I whispered: "Darling, that is wonderful, it will only take seconds!" It did! She began to fuck her own throat, slowly, delicately lifting clear, taking a breath, and noiselessly descending onto my length until her mouth was pressed to my bush. Up down, up down she went, lubricating with saliva as she cleared the head into her mouth. I was still steel hard, but the head of my cock followed the back of her throat, bending deep inside her slight body. She did not need educating about my coming. Her pace was perfect, stopping with breath held as I thundered into her body. The experience went into orbit when she swallowed. Twice her tiny throat milked me. She had trained it to behave like a cunt! I withdrew almost completely dry. Not a drop was wasted. I was so spent that I went flaccid in seconds. Her nimble fingers popped me back in and I was dressed right again. I thought: "Nobody would be the wiser". But then we kissed, and a spurt of cum shot into my mouth. She giggled! I was astonished, simply whispering: "Thank you". Paul continued to snore. A revolting loud thunder could be heard over the murmur of a television. We began to make our plans. While I slept the cunning vixen had thought it all out. We would go out to dinner. Paul would go to bed immediately we returned. He normally did, as she often caught up with business, sending e-mails to colleagues, etc. Tonight we would pool our knowledge. All the ex wives, and mistresses, whom we knew, would receive early morning urgent messages to their mobiles, and to their ‘puters. All would be invited, alone and as singles, to an impromptu Halloween party on Saturday evening. Paul and I would be the only men. Paul would not be told a thing. He was already expecting that there was to be a small party. He hardly ever invited anybody himself. That might be the only risk. Val only wanted "family" there. Everybody would be required to wear acceptable Halloween disguise. I was to be the contact, and would ask the three tallest to dress as men, complete with strap on penis of any size that they wanted. We were going to humble Paul. Val wanted me to fuck her in front of everybody, then we would all walk out. We were beside ourselves with excitement as the concept evolved. We lay close together, talking quietly. Nobody would have known that we had given each given the other an extraordinary orgasm. I toyed with her ever-erect nipples through the thin membrane of Lycra. She tried to ignore it as we had everything planned. Then we woke Paul, and went out to dinner. This was uneventful, except that Paul drank too much. Late in the evening he left the table to use the men's room. Val said: "That is good! He will go home, and go to bed. He will be snoring in ten minutes, then we can get down to work". Which is exactly what happened! In ten minutes he was dead to the world. A few minutes after that we were sitting quietly at her computer, in her Dressing Room, working on our plan. All four wives were contacted individually. I knew them all well, and had kept in touch. I had only fancied one of them, and oddly only one of the mistresses that I had known. Val was the first whom I really wanted, and now might fuck. This had not stopped intimate, and amusing, conversations with the others. All wanted more than a missionary poke. He never gave more. He never performed cunnilingus, and he never had anal sex. He was so boring that I really do not know what the girls all was in him! Was it the hypnotic attraction of some violent men, or was it his money? All had suffered his temper. Only his first wife, by whom he had children, accessed a little of his money. She fought, tooth and nail, for every cent. The rest had made their own lives before any liaison was struck up. They did so afterwards going back to jobs and friends, who had seldom left them. We were finished by about one thirty on Halloween eve. All the communications had gone out, all the girls had my ‘phone number, and I set the mobile to vibration only. Val and I told them to ring at any time, night or day, and we wrote, in CAPITALS, that they must come. We were very excited, so retired to the kitchen to talk. Firstly we both agreed that we would not have sex until the party. I said that I thought that Carol, Frances, and Jane, were the tallest, so I would explain in detail why we wanted them to dress as men, even to their cocks. I knew them well enough to ask this! I hoped that I did! My inkling was that they would all jump at the offer to get even with him. I was fascinated that neither of us wanted to have sex. Val said that she wanted to wait, but that she had a real treat in store. She wanted us to have anal sex in front of Paul. We would all be masked, so nobody would know who was who. One of his ex-wives was going to have to agree to make up to him, and allow him to fuck her. This was to allow another to bugger him. She would fuck him in the ass, while he was doing an ex. Val and I felt that he would not complete his fuck. We hoped that the shock would be too much, but that his buggering would be for as long as possible. We gave each other a remarkably chaste kiss, and went to bed. Val was with Paul, probably for the last time. I was on my lonesome, possibly also for the last time. The next ten hours, or so, were totally frenetic. My ‘phone was under my pillow. Its vibrations woke me at about six. It was Frances. I went to my bathroom. Turned on a tap, like in the spy stories, and we talked over the noise of running water. The more we talked, the more excited she became. She was a good friend of the first and the third wife. Val was friendly with the fourth, who was the one, who had tries to warn her off. Frances was completely game. She had really suffered, and wanted the privilege of fucking him in the bum. She said that she would explain to the two others, and happened to be friendly with two of the mistresses. It was like a club. Frances knew two of the mistresses, and had a feeling that at least two more were good friends. I left much of the detail in her very capable hands. Now I was sure that it would work. The girls dressed as boys would be warlocks. The girls to be girls would be very feminine witches. Ideally none would wear panties, but that was really up to them. About half an hour later she rang off, agreeing to ‘phone with a progress report at midday. We were in business. I went back to bed where I lay quietly, listening to Val moving about the house. There was a gentle knock on my door, and in she came, dressed in a light housecoat, and little else. She was carrying a cup of tea for both of us. She placed them on my night table, and was sitting cross-legged, her cunt deliberately exposed in a moment. Paul was still snoring, so we caught up. Wife number four had already ‘phoned her. She was completely with the whole idea. She already had clothes that might make her into a stunning witch, and quite fancied the idea of being fucked by a masked female "stranger" wearing a strap on. She was not joking when she asked that it was as big as possible. She said that none of them were total strangers, she asked Val for all the telephone numbers, and said that they would all meet at a local Mall for coffee at midday. I began to wonder if I should feel sorry for the dog! Nine hours passed in the blinking of an eye. Val went to the coffee meeting. She said that they were all there, and could hardly wait for the evening. I became horrified how little love they had for the man. Here were four wives, and four mistresses, of the one man, who were going to fuck each other, while I fucked his latest mistress. He was to be allowed to start fucking one of them. Jane agreed to be the sacrificial lamb for this, but did not want him to ejaculate into her. All agreed that Frances had been the most hurt. She would bugger him. They were enthralled by the idea of a Halloween party. It gave the perfect excuse for anonymity behind masks, and dressing as witches. Timing was all. They wanted it to happen on Halloween Sunday, so the climax had to be after Saturday midnight. It would be early, but rules were there to be broken, especially in this case. There was evil in the air as the conspirators hatched their plot. Knowing that Paul was only a missionary man meant that Jane would have to be fucked by him on a tabletop. We needed to ensure that one was clear. He was likely to be the only one fairly conventionally dressed, so his bum would be available for abuse, as Jane would ensue that his pants were down. She was the timing pin. All would be fucking away by the time that when she drew off his cock. She would time this so that he was near to cumming. She hope he would spurt into thin air. That thought made her laugh. Her landing on terra firma was to be the signal for all to unmask. The wicked girls all agreed that they would spend the afternoon modifying their clothes, so that they could all tear them off very quickly. Sources of Velcro were found at the mall, and they vanished to do their evil. They decreed that I would be the Devil. Val rushed home, filled me in with every detail, and shot into her Dressing Room. Frances ‘phoned late, more excited than ever, but confirming that all was on target. In a quiet moment she brushed close to my cock, and said: "I am wearing a butt plug to enlarge me. Don't forget to yank it out before you thrust into me!" "I can hardly wait, I am permanently wet. What have we done?" I took Paul out to buy all the food, more drink, and decorations. We were going to make the bottom of the garden into a hellhole, where spirits commune, from which food drink and degenerate merriment were to be served. I dipped deep into my pockets at each purchase. Paul's only comment was that I appeared to be buying for many. I said that Val had mentioned eight to ten, with an even mixture of boys to girls. Thinking about this, and the fact that Paul had to be fucked as he fucked, made me realize that we would be eleven I added, with evil intent, that she had even arranged somebody for me! He laughed! It was a wonderful warm evening, especially for the last full night of October. No rain, or winds were expected. Everything was set by about seven o'clock. Guests were expected from about nine. We three, Val, Paul, and I went to change. I had not seen any of my devil outfit. It was set out on my bed. Everything had been thought of. It was completely black, a close fitting mask covered my face. The eyeholes were big, yet with black makeup on my face, it was difficult to tell. I had a wonderful full cape, lined in brightest scarlet, and she had found me an all in Lycra cross-country suit, black, but otherwise like hers. It had been modified. There were two other things, with a little note about each. The first said: "Darling boy, wear this cock ring. It will keep you permanently stiff, and that is what I want. Show me no mercy, but take the plug out first. I will make no noise, until we are all exposed, then we will all cheer. All love, VAL". The second said: "You will need this black condom. I have modified your skin, with a hole at the correct place. Well! It should be correct if my memory of yesterday is good! You will also need this strange thing". "It is called a "box", and is worn by Englishmen when they play their game of cricket. We raided downtown to find them to cover all penises, except Paul's. He still has to use a zip. Enjoy me! Love, VAL". PS: "Please remove the sheath before you fuck my ass. I want to be full of you!" I knew then that I was in love! I dressed, finding that the best way was to slide the condom on first, then slide the cock ring up it, using the built in lubrication to help. The box was held by a series of straps, and even covered my now permanent erection. It was remarkably comfortable, but then the English game goes on for up to five days. It needs to be! I was ready, and went to find the others. Amazingly Paul had agreed to be the Devil's assistant. He was always a smaller version of me, and now looked very much the part. Then Val appeared. She was one of the Witches, but her Lycra was dark blue, not black, She wore a huge cape, lined in light blue, and the obligatory pointed hat. She whispered that apparently the others had found black, with scarlet linings for both witches, and warlocks. All should be very alike. Then she said: "Watch this". Paul was already away down the garden, so she twirled around holding her damaged arm to her side. The cape spun up. She was wearing "our" skin, her nipples jutting straight out. Paying Him Back Wow! What a girl! She stopped, turned her back to me, and lifted her short skirt. She bent double. She had cut away just enough of the crutch for the plug, and her cunt to be visible. And she was expecting me to wait! The eight arrived en masse. It turned out, later, that they had come in a friend's people carrier, and had it arranged for their get-a-way. They trouped in, wafting their cloaks out, doffing their hats, and waiving very vicious looking long pikes, forks, and other instruments of torture. The wonderful thing was that it was impossible to tell who was who, except; of course the "boys" sported boxes over their "cocks". Jane curtseyed, turned and bent double. She had a very pretty cunt. The others clapped, saying that thing had gotten out of hand. All had cunt holes, but only Val had holes for her nipples. The elf had told them how I almost bit through her nipples to tear the Lycra away. There were no secrets between these hurt women. They were out for Paul's blood! The party started. Paul was barbeque chef in chief, so Jane, completely hidden behind her mask made a beeline for him. She was magnificent. He was so engrossed in himself that he did not realize that he had once been married to the husky voiced girl making up to him. His libido was flattered. She would be fun to lay this Halloween night. Val was one of the others, but who cares. She will stay with me, because I am I. It was turning into a marvelous act. An e-wife, dressed as a man witch, a warlock, began to make advances on a mistress dressed as a witch. They acted magnificently, and were soon pairing off. It became more surreal, one was rejected, only to turn to another, and be accepted. By the time we had eaten, pairings were completed. The masks were so good that I began to doubt if one could tell another. I began to realize that a pairing might mean that a wife would end up fucking the mistress, who displaced her. It all appealed to my warped mind. My advances on Val were going well. I slipped my hands under her cloak as I stood behind her waiting for food to be placed on our plates. She was inches from Paul as one hand stroked and pulled and milked on an exposed nipple, while the other hand gently pressed the butt plug into her ass. It was more bizarre as she carried on a conversation with Paul in a disguised voice, while I was doing this. He was getting drunk, and did not notice. All was going as planned. Jane was having great fun. She had begun to whisper sweet nothings in his ear, and let a hand brush against his cock. Oh! For the vanity of man, he was loving it! The girls all entered into the sensual side of eating. Warlocks fed morsels to witches. Petting started between courses. Petting turned to girl on girl kissed, and hands began to explore. If it was an act, then it was becoming very real. I watched as warlocks began to feel the tits of witches, who, because of their makeup, and masks, were anonymous. Similarly, witches were beginning to feel the strap on cocks under their cricket boxes, then they began to become more intimate. Breasts were fondled, squeezed and caressed, in that way only a girl understands. Val noticed, she whispered to me: "I think we are dropping behind. Please can we start to make love?" It was approaching eleven o'clock when we all began to settle down. Witch and warlock matches were made. Val and I were becoming comfortable on a huge lounger. She was very concerned about her friend Jane. She wanted the timing to be right, and Frances to fuck Paul in the ass after midnight. By now she had my penis out. She wanted to see the cock ring. She released the top of the box. It would have hung down had I been standing. My slightly bent, black covered, penis sprang into view. It began to fill and straighten. She said: "I want that horrid black thing off now". Pulling it from under the cock ring caused it to split. A small circle was left, the rest torn off and discarded. I thought: "I hope he finds that later". Bodies, couples were everywhere, as I looked around in the gloom. Backlit masks gave just enough light for both of us to see that strap on dildo0 were uncovered. One or two were being sucked, and the wonderful thing was that Paul would never have known. They looked real, especially as one was almost beginning to be deep throated. Three couples of women, all who had been married to, or the mistresses of this man were making love. It was obvious that they were enjoying themselves. In the meantime Paul was gathering speed on the deliberately planted Jane. She was "watching the clock", trying to waylay his amorous advances until about twenty minutes to midnight. It was driving the man wild. Frances was at a bit of a loose end, so she sat with Val and me, watching us slowly begin to make love. I had known her for years, always loved her ways with the three children that she brought to her short marriage to Paul. She had just lost her husband when he crossed her path. The predator took her in, he seduced her, he took her children in. I have never been certain if he didn't have an incestuous affair with Frances' gorgeous daughter. I would not have put it past him, and I have suspected, for a long time, that the thought may have crossed her mind. It wasn't why she left, but it may be why she was so interested in fucking him in the ass. Violence was the reason. She began to play with Val's nipples, then she began to kiss them, finally she took one into her mouth. A look of beautiful contentment crossed both their faces. I began to use one hand to play with Frances' tits through her skin. She moved all over, yet the Lycra was in wonderful control. She has always been well endowed, in that loose way that suits many women, but I had never been this intimate before. I played with Val with my other hand; milking whichever nipple Frances was not suckling My erection stayed huge, waiting. Frances' was now exposed. It was even bigger than mine, and we were all reaching towards the grand finale. Suddenly it was twenty to midnight. By this time Paul was certain that he had seduced the stranger behind a mask, who had inadvertently come to his Halloween Party. She was on the table; her legs were folded back, with her arms locking them down, elbows just behind her knees. He had opened her skin more, she looked very vulnerable and exposed, but obviously continued to murmur the right sounds. She was desperately rubbing her clit. She had suddenly remembered that he was not a lubrication man. She had unpleasant thoughts of only his pre-cum lubricating her dry cunt. We all heard her asking him to wait. Minutes ticked by. The scene was again surreal; there was no doubt that the spirit of revenge was on our side. Paul obeyed, thinking that he was to fuck a new trophy. Idly stroking his cock to keep it erect. Witches, and warlocks, had formed a pattern around the table where Jane lay as a sacrifice. We were all moving in for the kill. The three tall warlocks were now fucking their witches with their strap on cocks. We learnt later that two had never had any lesbian relationship before, while the third couple had found that they were old hands. These two had agreed that they would join Val and I. A dildo of considerable size was already stuffing an ass, while the witch was using both hands to give herself an orgasm. Frances was at a rampant ready. Val asked me to begin to fuck her ass. Bright Girl! She was wearing very high platform shoes; I was at the right height for her small frame. She bent forwards, facing directly at Paul's bum, and only six feet away. She lifted her skirt, and stretched her ass cheeks with the fingers of both hands. The pink rectangle of the end of her ass plug was waiting. I yanked it out, as I had been told to do. She did not make a sound. There is nothing more inviting than an open ass. I knew that we would do this much time after Halloween. It would be better then, it would become a joy. Now it was to "pay him back". This was not for pleasure. We all knew that, but also knew that we would make it as pleasurable as possible for all participants, but Paul. I grabbed her by the waist, and plunged into her, praying that it did no hurt too much, and that somehow she would bear the pain, until, it became pleasure. My balls hit her crack in one swift move. I heard the air escape from her mouth, but she made not a sound. I was in her ass. Withdrawl, in this situation can be agony. I spat on the joint; a huge dollop of spittle began to trickle round her hole. I pulled back an inch or so, aimed again, and went to work. I thrust in and out, hoping that I could stay from shooting into her bowels, until Frances was well into Paul. Then we would all tear our masks off, Frances would finish buggering him, and our trick would be complete. The minutes ticked towards midnight, Paul was now in Jane. I hope that she had made herself wet enough. Frances had silently moved to inches behind his ass. She had lubricated her cock. She wanted it to go right home in one go. She knew that Val and I planned to do that. She had watched us succeed. Jane began to make sounds. Paul's pace began to change. I was not forgetting that all the girls knew his sounds. All had suffered his fucking. Suddenly she shouted: "Now". She had moved both hands to grip the edge of the table. Paul thrust forwards, one, or possibly two more times. Jane slid back. She was clear; he was in the open, fucking the air. Simultaneously, and with miraculous precision Frances literally fell against his ass crack. Her strap on dildo went straight home. Later she said that she felt no constriction. Maybe he had been buggered too much at the expensive private school. We will never know. The affect was exactly as we wanted. Jane swung down onto the ground, and was just standing upright when he let out the howl of a lone wolf. His sperm shot past her into the bushes. He screamed and screamed, while Frances forced her cock in and out, and Jane ensured that the table did not move. His cumming was enough for me. I shot my sperm deep into my beloved new friend. On her last plunge Frances grabbed her mask, ripping it off with her tall hat. She flung it away, pressed home, and grabbed him tight around the waist. She held with a grip of steel, a woman possessed. Her face was tight against his back when she said: "Look around Paul. I am Frances, and all the others whose lives you have fucked up are here for revenge". His howls ceased, he looked back. I was clearly fucking Val, beautiful Val. He confirmed that it was indeed Frances, and then saw all the others. All were fucking each other with obvious pleasure. Each girl announced herself. It was the last time and of then spoke to him. It was ten past midnight on Halloween. Finally Frances withdrew. Her cock was smeared in his excrement. She did not care. She said: "You have been tricked. We are all going now, and you will never see any of us again". "That is your treat". Not another sound was made as we all pulled out. The amazing girls had the people carrier waiting on the sidewalk. Cocks waved as we clambered aboard, at least two asses were likely to be sore for a day, or so. None of us cared a trice. Paul was last seen sitting on the ground, totally defeated. Maybe he will now treat women well, we all doubt it. We meet regularly, the "Wives and Mistresses of Halloween", with one honorary male wife, who now lives happily with Val. 10/31 will always be special to us all. Dear Reader: Gussie would love to have your comments and feed back, it is very useful, as are your votes! © Copyright Gussie – October 2004 Paying Him Back "So – you think we should get married, do you?" Jack Robbins teased as Alannah snuggled in his arms. The sight of her long-legged, ebony beauty always made him smile. It still blew his mind that this stunning beauty had proposed to him a year ago, although at the time, he had turned her down cold. He had his reasons, but had been re-thinking them as of late. Alannah sat up in bed, looking at him with wide eyes. "Where did this come from all of a sudden? I asked you to marry me over a year ago and you flat-out said no!" Alannah swatted his thigh. "Jeez, that stings. It's never been far from my mind Alannah, you know me and you know how I feel about you. You also know why I said no in the first place and it's not because I don't love you." Alannah sighed. "I know, Jack baby. I'm only sorry it took me over 20 years to figure it out." Jack had fallen in love at first sight with Alannah when he met her in college 22 years earlier. She was tall, long-legged, dark black hair, an ebony beauty that he knew was far out of his reach, but they had friends in common and became friends to each other as well. Alannah was working her way through college as a lingerie model; she seemed to be on the fast track, on the way up, while Jack worked hard and became a somewhat-successful author and television critic. He had his sexual adventures, he dated some well-known actresses, but he always kept tabs on Alannah. He hoped the rumors he'd been hearing weren't true. Sadly, they were. Alannah was running with a fast crowd and she had quickly gotten out of control. There were lots of stories about her boozing, all of them true. He hoped the rumors about her drug abuse were just exaggerations, but when he ran into her 5 years ago, after not seeing her for over 15 years, he knew there weren't either. She was a wreck. At first, Alannah didn't recognize her old college friend. When she did, something hit her. She broke down and cried. They sat in a coffee shop until 4 in the morning, talking and catching up. Alannah had hit rock-bottom, most of her money was gone, she wasn't getting much work – if any – and she was in danger of losing her home and if she didn't stop, she was afraid she'd lose her life. Jack's heart was still hers – he just held her hand and resolved to help her. He told her as much. He looked straight at her, looking so forlorn and stated his case. "Alannah, if you want out of this mess, I am willing to help you. It's not going to be an easy road, but if you want to be sober and clean, I will pay for Rehab. I will help with your bills; I will hold your hand when you need me and be there at 3 in the morning when you're sick. But I won't stand for any bullshit and you have to commit – here, now. There's a way out, Alannah – do you want to take it?" Alannah's eyes were full of tears; she nodded, stood up and hugged Jack, crying softly. He let her stay at his place that night and in the morning; he made the calls and got her into one of the best Treatment facilities in the country. The next thing he did was call his bank and arranged to pay off Alannah's mortgage and outstanding bills, so she'd had a home to come back to and a lot less stress to deal with. Jack wasn't a multi-millionaire by any means, but he had the means to help his – friend – and he had more money than he, at nearly 40, would ever need in his lifetime. Rehab was hell for Alannah, she called every day, Jack was always able to calm her down. He became her lifeline and a stabilizing force. When she graduated after 6 months, she felt wonderful, clean, sober and alive. She was getting her looks back and went back to the Gym, losing much of the puffiness, getting a routine back. She found a job with a well-known chain of lingerie stores who couldn't believe they'd hired such a well-known celebrity to work for them for such a pittance. Alannah was happy to have a job and goals again. She was shocked and awed to find out how much Jack had done for her in the last 6 months. He was a true friend; she knew that – she also sensed the depths of his feelings for her. Little by little, over the next year, his kindness caused those feelings to be reciprocated. She invited Jack for dinner one evening, spending the entire day preparing. The meal was Chicken Parmagiana, she made the bread herself, she cleaned the Condo from top to bottom and then she prepared herself. She showered, she pampered herself, she shaved her pussy bare and put on the sexiest, most decadent lingerie she could find. Alannah covered that with a long, white evening gown with slit on one side, white stiletto heels and let her long, dark hair fall in a waterfall around her face. Most of her scars were gone, her arms were bare and she put on a small amount of gold eyeliner on her eyes and silver, dangly earrings. She looked in the mirror and felt a sense of pride in how good she looked again – and it was all thanks to Jack, who she hoped by evening's end, would be her Jack. Jack knew he was a goner the moment he walked in the door. The food, the woman he was spending an evening with, it overwhelmed his senses. He was in love with her all over again and when she leaned forward and kissed him hard, it was the greatest moment of his life. She took him upstairs, undressed him first, then herself and gave herself over to Jack, completely. She fucked his brains out and used tricks she had learned over the years, tricks that had helped her "score" in the past, but now were being used to reward this man who had come to mean so much to her. His cock knew its way around a woman's body too, he had Alannah seeing stars. They had sex until dawn and fell asleep, then when they woke up, they fucked again. He spent the afternoon at her Condo and the next day as well. A few months later, they both sold their respective Condos and bought a larger one and moved in together. Alannah revealed one secret to her man that came out of left field – shortly after leaving college, she got pregnant. She had a daughter out there, but she'd left her in Foster Care and in her drug-addled state, she had no idea where Tara was. Jack hugged her, kissed her tears away and said they'd find her. He promised and Jack kept his promises. Over the next few years, Alannah became impatient with Jack, she dearly wanted to marry him. She was making good money and maintaining sobriety, she had money in the bank and even was modeling a bit again for her company. Her life was stable again, so she just didn't understand his reluctance. Alannah finally took the bull by the horns and asked Jack to marry her a little over a year ago. He turned her down flat and gave her the reason. "We've been together a few years now and I love you with all my heart. I've always been in love with you, but you've only been sober a few years and we're still looking for Tara. If we should fail to locate her or she doesn't want to see you, I wouldn't want that or anything to upset your healing, so I think we should wait. Don't worry beautiful – I'm not going anywhere." Jack was by her side when the detective he'd hired called with the news that they'd located Tara, who was almost 19. Tara wanted very much to see her mother, she'd been trying to find her as well, but Tara's search had reached a dead end. Jack set it up and went with his girlfriend to steady her nerves. Tara was easily as stunning as her mother, although she had some of her father's Asian features, Jack saw. She was around 5'8" to Alannah's 5'10", she had a slight British accent, as her foster family had moved to England some 10 years ago. She was elegant, sophisticated and educated, yet she was sweet and charming and still cried like a baby when she and her mother first hugged. Tara stayed with them while the two got to know each other. At great risk, Alannah was very honest with her daughter, brutally so. She held nothing back, Tara was shocked, but she told her mother she was very proud of her for taking all the right steps and that they'd never be separated again. Her foster family were close to her, but there were 9 in total and she hadn't gotten the nurturing she needed. Alannah rectified that. She doted on her daughter, teasing Jack mercilessly that now he lived with two hot women and he'd better watch it. Jack teased back that Alannah better be careful, Tara was a naughty temptation. It was almost true, Tara was very comfortable in her own skin, she knew she was sexy and she dressed the part, short-shorts, minis and always heels. Jack came to think of Tara as a daughter, but she was the sexiest daughter on the face of the earth, as far as he was concerned. Jack had begun to re-think accepting Alannah's proposal when last week, he'd been in bed going over some notes for his newest novel. The girls were watching a too-sappy chick-flick in the other room. He was just turning the lights off when a beautiful figure appeared in the doorway, wearing a sheer, white peignoir. It still turned him on to know he was sleeping with a sexy lingerie model, Alannah wore sexy underwear for him almost every night. He went to say something, but she was in bed with him, her lips covering his, her hands running down his chest and ... CLICK! The lights snapped on and Alannah was in the doorway, in a black peignoir. He was in bed with Tara! "Alannah baby, it isn't what it looks like, I'm ..." "Oh Jack, it's exactly what it looks like, you were in bed with my daughter and she was about to have sex with you." Jack felt his heart sink when Alannah said "That's fine with me, because I sent her in here ahead of me and now I'm going to join you and we're both going to fuck you." "Come again?" Tara stroked his cock through his boxers and smiled as her mother sat on the bed beside them. "Mummy has told me all about you, how much you love and care for her, how much you helped her get her life back and that it was you that helped her find me. I can never thank you enough for that and neither can she, but we're sure as hell going to spend the rest of our lives trying. So Jack, if you think your heart's strong enough, get ready for the time of your life." Tara slid the peignoir up and off her body, Alannah following suit. Both wore stockings and heels and both were kissing him, peppering every part of his body with nibbles and licks as they got him naked. Jack didn't think it could get any better than this, it was one of the wildest experiences of his life. He was wrong, because as they kissed him, they drew apart, wrapped their arms around each other and heatedly embraced, lips mashed together, tongues mingling, breasts against breasts. It was the most erotic sight Jack had ever seen and he couldn't say a word. Alannah broke away and stroked her boyfriend's body. "I did a lot of naughty things in my Wild Child days Jack, but I don't regret all of them. I learned pretty early on that I like women sexually and as Tara and I talked, I learned she did too. One thing led to another and the other afternoon we ..." "Tumbled into bed and had a hot, lezzie incestuous girl-fuck!" Tara sighed, remembering the moment. "That's about it, Jack. Think you can handle that?" Jack wanted to shout "Fuck, YEAH!" but couldn't speak yet, so he just nodded like a Bobble-Head doll and watched the women kiss, lick and play with each other for a few minutes. When they moved apart, it was Tara who faced his cock and she who slid her mouth around it and began sucking him off. For a girl not yet in her 20's, Alannah's daughter knew what she was doing. Tara had come to love this man almost as much as her mother did, so she put all her energy into pleasing him. She felt something behind her and then felt her buttocks being spread slightly and realized that Alannah was going to eat her pussy from behind while she sucked Jack's cock. "Oh fuck yes Alannah, you lezzie slut queer, eat my cunt bitch, while I suck our man's cock. Hear that Jack, you fucking stud? Your woman is a pervert and so is her daughter and we're yours now, you're never getting rid of us. Oh God, I love this cock, I love Mummy's tongue, this is everything I fucking dreamed of and more!" Tara groaned before she resumed sucking. Jack took in the erotic sights and sounds of it all and he thought he'd died and gone to heaven. He loved hearing a woman talk dirty, but having it be Tara was an unexpected surprise. He loved Alannah dearly, but he never in a million years thought anything like this would ever happen. That wasn't a complaint, nor was he being judgmental, just an observation. His – kind-of stepdaughter – was really giving him a remarkable blow-job while her mother had her face buried deep in her pussy. Alannah's tongue was deep inside her daughter's gash, she was licking for all she was worth. Tara's arrival had been fortuitous, for some time now, Alannah had been looking for a woman she could share with her lover. There were a few girls at work she had considered, but then Tara showed up. She got a good vibe from her daughter right from the start, she knew there were hidden depths to the girl and wasn't surprised when they emerged. The kink factor of them being mother and daughter kicked things up a notch and she could see Jack was having a ball! "Suck me Alannah, oh God Jack, isn't she fucking good? Okay, okay ... Mum, you have to stop, I have to get Jack's cock in me now, I just have to fuck this cock that you've been raving about. He's so big and hard, isn't he?" Tara climbed on top of Jack and lowered her slim, dark body on to his cock, his tanned skin contrasting with her own, his blonde hair a bit tousled. Alannah's dark eyes met her lover's near-emerald eyes and she too, mounted Jack, riding his face so she and her daughter-turned-lover could continue to play with each other as well. Jack likely would have cried out some obscenities of his own, had his mouth not been smothered by his lover's warm, shaved pussy. He knew just where Alannah liked to be licked and wondered where Tara's hot spots were? As she rode his cock and swiveled her slender hips to and fro, Jack realized he'd have plenty of time to discover them all. "Oh God Tara, you wonderful little slut, you look so beautiful fucking him, I'm so turned on and so proud of you, what a nasty little thing you are!" Alannah trilled as she leaned forward and met her daughter's lips with her own. "Like mother, like daughter," Tara answered, feeling her body experience sensations she'd never felt before. The few boys she had fucked before – the cute young girls – were rank amateurs compared to her new family. She didn't want to give up this arrangement – not ever! Alannah climaxed, flooding Jack's face with her spend. Tara was next, her juices flooded down, coating his cock, soaking the sheets. The women got off their lover and Tara cleaned up her mother's cream while Alannah sucked Tara's flood from Jack's cock. When they finished, they shared a kiss and tumbled into bed beside Jack. Jack still couldn't believe that had been nearly 2 weeks ago. The threesome spent all night like that, the girls sixty-nined while he made some snacks, then took turns fucking and sucking him and each other. It might be unconventional, but it actually worked for them and somewhere in the past 2 weeks, Jack had finally made up his mind. Tara came into the room in a tiny bikini, she'd wanted a post-lunch swim before joining her family in bed for an afternoon's sexing-up. "You have this really weird, kind-of sour look on your face Mummy, what's wrong?" Alannah sighed. "He just asked me if I still wanted to get married. What a perfectly stupid question," she said, somewhat exasperated. "Tch. I agree Jack, it's also not very romantic." Tara pouted. "Hey, don't you two gang up on me. She asked me last year, you know that and I just wanted to know if the offer still held." "You know it does, idiot," Alannah said, biting him on the ear. "Then I think we should do it. Do you have time to plan a Wedding for July, is that enough time, darlings?" Alannah nodded as the tears came flooding, Tara whooped and hugged them both. "I'm actually going to be your real daughter, how lovely – Daddy. It's just in time, too." "In time for what, Tara?" Alannah asked. "The baby's due sometime in the fall." "Baby?" Both Alannah and Jack looked at Tara with stunned expressions on their faces. "Yes. I guess Daddy's still rather virile and as he never bothered to have the ... snip-snip ... plus we always fuck bareback, sooo ... looks like you're going to be both a new husband and a new Daddy ... Daddy."