14 comments/ 102539 views/ 19 favorites All My Fault By: Quin Sometimes I do it all wrong. I ought to have known there was a problem when the biggest villain in the city invited me to visit his place for a meal. I knew him vaguely having done a couple of dodgy deals but I wasn't exactly a buddy of his. Mickey isn't the sort of man you say no to; there was no way I could have refused to go. The wife and I turned up at the club he uses as his head office in good time. She seemed to think she was about to meet celebrities and had done herself up sexy and eye-catching. Her top looked like a piece of gauze, completely see-through letting everybody see how tiny her bra was, hardly covering her tits. Her skirt was a bit too tight and though it wasn't that short had a slit in the side that showed off her stocking tops. Martha was a quiet woman who left me to bring in the bread without questioning where it came from. Looking at forty years old next birthday she had kept herself in good condition but remained the archetypal housewife and mother – not a glamourpus. Some of Mickey's goons met us at the door and we were guided to a very nice room at the back, which was set out as a dining room-cum-board room. All went well to start with the big man complimenting my wife on how nice she looked. We all sat down, that is, me and the wife, Mickey, and several of his more ugly gorillas and a couple of businessmen with whom I wasn't acquainted. Martha didn't seen worried about being the only female in the room, indeed she enjoyed the attention though in her customary shy way. We had a nice but small meal, tastefully and expertly prepared by his personal staff. The drinks flowed freely and he had some good quality stuff. All was well and we had a good time laughing a lot. Martha went giggly and coy a couple of times when she saw men openly admiring her tits through her gauzy open woven top but she made it very clear that she was enjoying herself and smiled back in a coy way that seemed to signal that she quite fancied some of the men there. Then I sensed a change in mood. Mickey told me the tale, one I had heard many times before from locals who had almost turned him into a folk hero, of the fate of the man who a couple of years ago had tried to cheat him. "We got hold of the bastard and explained the error of his ways. Then we pulled down his pants!" (At this point Mickey apologised in advance to my wife for the detail he was about to relate) "We took down his pants and inserted up his rectum a decent length of plastic piping, you know, the sort plumbers use for the gas and water supply – half inch bore stuff. He fucking screamed a bit!" (Mickey and his henchmen laughed very loudly) "Then we fed a piece of barbed wire into the tube and up his arse! Guess what we did then Gerry? We pulled the fucking plastic tube out and left the barbed wire inside. We could have used razor wire but hell – it wasn't that bad a crime and I do have some compassion. Anyway – we still made him dance!" They all went crazy laughing and knocking back their drinks. I forced a laugh but Martha was stunned and had a blank face. Actually I was scared because I knew this was leading up to something very bad for me. Mickey threw a piece of paper at me and his face was stern. "Remember them? A little company you did some business with a while ago. You decided to economise with the merchandise I think – cut corners - maximise profits. The quality was far from being satisfactory." He stared at me and so did the men in suits. "Oh shit!" I thought - now it had become clear as to why I was here. Yes I had supplied a new company with some raw materials and after the third consignment had sort of, well...made adjustments to the specifications. Mickey smiled but not nicely. "You didn't know I had an interest in the company Gerry? You didn't know how silly you were being?" I slowly shook my head like a naughty schoolboy would. Of course I didn't fucking well know I was cheating on the local gangster! Mickey had his finger in lots of pies and probably this firm was a front – somewhere to launder his money or use as a legitimate front for the taxman and police as was the nightclub. I didn't dare waste his time and insult him by denying my indiscretion. "Mickey – I'm so sorry – if I'd known...!" Hey, we all look for an opportunity to make a little extra, you know? This time I have made a terrible mistake – I will put it right!" Mickey looked at me for a long time but said nothing. "What do you think Mrs Porter? Can you think of anything your husband might offer by way of compensation? Besides of course making financial amends. What can be offered to me – and my friends – as a sign of the regret and the remorse he feels for showing such disrespect?" Martha told him that she had no idea but only looked vaguely concerned and smiling vacantly carried on sipping from her glass. The room was silent and still as Mickey slid to a chair next to my wife waving the henchman away. His hand stretched out and stroked Martha's cheek making her hand stop suddenly holding her glass just an inch away from her lips. His hand caressed her face working it's way down to the side of her neck. "You have no ideas whatever?" "No," she said feebly looking at the table directly in front of her. She lifted her gaze and her eyes darted around the room meeting the stare of every man in the room. As she returned her eyes to glance sideways toward Mickey he let his hand drop further rubbing the back of his hand over her right tit. I started in my seat but dared not retaliate or complain. Martha shook her head and repeated that she did not know what to say letting her eyes now dwell on watching Mickey's hand which now turned to let the tips of his fingers play over her nipple which was protruding erect from the thin material; she did not even attempt to protest or struggle. All the table silently watched Mickey play with Martha's tits, rubbing gently, then squeezing just the nipple rolling it in hid fingers, then moving over to torment her other breast. Every few seconds she gave a brief gentle but startled hiss as her body straightened when the man squeezed just a little too tightly. He joked that he ought to be careful not to make her sore by giving all his attention to just one tit. Martha actually smiled slightly as she agreed accepting another drink and sipping without being concerned that she was being mauled. Every few seconds or so she would let her eyes flit around the room checking on who was still watching – they all were, but she didn't react or become upset. The fear of what Mickey might do to me was paling into the background now as I witnessed Martha's unbelievable coolness and consent to allowing the big man to tease her tits openly around that dinner table to amuse his lewd audience. Still she looked only coy and shy and mildly embarrassed giving little titters and laughs as she answered Mickey's questions designed to amuse her or make her feel self-conscious when she would giggle covering her face partially with her glass. He asked her if having her breasts played with felt nice to which she turned her head away shyly. He told her she had a marvellous figure and she thanked him but reddened when he got the other men to agree and remark on how beautiful her tits were. "I think we'd like to see more!" he said and she drew in a deep breath bashfully avoiding showing her blushes – but still smiling and without resisting. "Honestly!" she cooed, "You're embarrassing me!" "So do you think it wise of your husband to try to cheat us?" Mickey asked. "No," said Martha, softly. "So then, you think it's justified and fair that we make him suffer, punish him." Martha showed just a glimmer of concern before looking thoughtful and offering a quite unexpected response. "I suppose so – if you mean ridiculing him – like you are now – then it will settle your differences." "And you, as his wife are prepared to act as the implement we can use to gain our revenge?" She didn't answer. "Of course we could just give him a good beating." "No!" cried out Martha, "Not that!" "So you'd prefer to settle the debt yourself – by using other means?" He laughed as he tweaked her nipple making her tense and she squirmed, half-closing her eyes drawing in air. She offered nothing more; no opinion on the situation, nor did she plead for clemency and forgiveness on my behalf but she was happy to answer the lewd and personal questions as regarded her predicament and made light, by grinning sheepishly and blushing shyly at the sexual banter and observations made my the men. "Are you wearing stockings Martha, I can see a band of black nylon through the slit of your skirt?" "Yes," she answered. "With a suspender belt – I really like to see women dressed in sexy underwear?" "No – they are hold-ups, self supporting." Mickey had pulled his chair up close to my wife and had placed an arm around her shoulder, still groping her tits whilst everyone watched. He gave little pecks on her cheeks and neck and was becoming more and more intimate. "Hey Bill – you like the feel of a woman's nylon clad thigh - come and sample Martha!" I felt belittled and cowardly sat helplessly watching for the amusement of all, the businessman in a slick suit called Bill roared and marched over to take a seat on the opposite side of my wife. I was unable to see as the table was in the way but he grinned in a dirty fashion, both men looking down then Bill's hands went beneath the table. I imagined he was feeling up the skirt of my wife but it was more than that. Ashamed and shocked I saw her lift her body ever so slightly like she was assisting the man to pull her skirt up over her thighs. The other men on the same side of the table could see all that was happening and smirked. Martha made a short squeaky sound and again drew in a deep breath; she did not look upset, merely embarrassed. "Lovely legs – lovely thighs!" the man Bill enthused in a dirty whisper. His hands were busy under the table. Lots of discreet moans and sighs came from the mouth of my wife but neither the sounds nor her body language betrayed any evidence that she was distressed. At one point she stiffened up suddenly making me wonder where the hand of Bill was exploring but though her cheeks coloured up red I saw her hand calmly reach out to pick up her drink and take a sip. Her only concern seemed to be careful not to spill her cocktail. Mickey went to town ridiculing me, pointing out to the others my impotence and inability to stop what was going on. He lectured me in the error of my ways in between making Martha answer and respond to his depraved comments and admit how naughty she was. She never answered when it was frequently suggested she was enjoying it and getting turned on, but neither I noted did she bother to deny it. There was great amusement when Mickey made my wife really embarrassed by making her look at the crotches of all the men telling her how she had made them all 'get hard' and he informed her that one of his henchmen, a monster of a man had a 'dong' to match his size. Would she like to see it? "Show the lady your attributes!" Mickey shouted to the cackling man. A hand was placed on my shoulder – just in case I found the courage to intervene – and held me firmly down in my seat. Martha was shocked but still she displayed that slight look of intrigue and excitement given away by the way her lips so easily slipped into a faint smile. She cried "No!" but almost good humouredly as her face was forcibly held making her head raise and watch the man standing wide legged a few feet from the table, unzip his fly and extract a very big semi-erect penis from his pants. A roar went up and all applauded. Martha was made to look but she did not offer much complaint, her attention and concentration was quickly captured. "What do you think of that Mrs Porter – isn't that an amazing specimen?" I was shocked and dismayed to hear her happily agree, smiling a little as she said in a very soft and low voice, "Yes – it is!" "Hey guys – she's likes what she sees!" Another loud roar went up in the room and whatever Bill's hands were doing made her jerk her body and utter a cry. Mickey forced her, by holding her chin in his big hand, to watch the ape as he exhibited and tossed his cock in front of her, pulling the foreskin back and making her cry out when he pointed the tip toward her stepping near to her. "What would that feel like inside you?" Mickey spit, down her ear. There was tenseness in the air now as Mickey motioned 'Dong' to step even closer. I saw the other men lick their lips and widen their eyes as they watched with smirks. 'Dong's' swollen penis was inches away from Martha's mouth. Mickey's large hands applied just enough pressure to her cheeks to force her to turn her face to directly meet the enormous cock. The gangster did nothing else – the anguish and horror that ran through my bones was all down to the actions of my wife – the voluntary easy willing way she let her lower jaw drop and opened her mouth - as her eyes watched, with interest, the red end of the approaching penis. She had not been forced or neither goaded nor had there been any attempt to persuade or threaten. My wife had opened her mouth gladly and eagerly to welcome the large cock between her lips. A cry of protest went up when Mickey covered her mouth and kissed her. Excited he proclaimed that she had proved to us all just how willing and obliging she was prepared to be – and what fun they would all have. They all found it so funny then Mickey became bored. The big man told her and the room that it was time to really make amends and effort to settle the debt. They all went quiet with a look of excited anticipation. "Go and sit on the couch while we work out how much cash your husband needs to pay back!" Martha simply obeyed and rose from the chair, with an amazing presence of mind and coolness to remember to take her drink with her. "Keep her entertained boys!" shouted the gangster to two of his men. 'Big Dong' and another perched either side of my wife. To my consternation she happily held out her glass when one tipped a bottle offering her a refill. I would have signed my life away to Mickey at that point because I was only half listening to him – in spite of the fear of having to wear concrete boots and visit the river I had become more perturbed by seeing my wife so easily induced into letting herself become part of the recompense for my cheating ways. How calm and comfortable she seemed resigning her body to the mauling and groping of other men. She moved her arm so Dong could all the more easily reach over to play with her tits while the other one watched and stroked her belly giving her frequent kisses to various parts of her face and neck, then he would copy the movements of his pal and play with the tit nearest him in unison. She let her foot slide forward when a hand went inside the slit of her skirt and just looked down at her midriff, almost with a detached amusement as they told her boyishly they wanted to see her lovely legs and stocking tops, heaving up her skirt. The only alarmed sound she made was when her drink almost toppled over. She actually protested – about the danger of spilling her drink and their clumsiness as they alternately turned her face toward them for a kiss on her lips. The greasy back haired one took the glass from her hand and now she protested no more as they recommenced kissing her lips, dirtily and sloppily. The hand inside her skirt went higher but she didn't seem to mind. Her own hands rested on the men's' forearms and didn't bother to protect her honour. Mickey made me sign forms and agreements while the businessmen went over paperwork and made suggestions. Concentrating on Mickey for a while – at his strong suggestion – I eventually let my eyes and attention drift back to watch my wife being 'entertained'. There was other hustle and bustle in the room beside the loud voices of Mickey and the businessmen and two waitresses from his bar periodically rushed in to clear away the crockery and bring more drinks and coffee. Martha, now accepted and chose a liqueur and though the waitresses were trained not to be shocked at things they witnessed Martha wasn't but nevertheless let the hand playing with her tits remain teasing her nipples while she smiled at the girl and took the small receptacle from her hand. Now, between kisses my wife was actually exchanging comments with the men – making small talk! She faced whichever guy she spoke to whilst they carried on their little conversations. How surreal it was for me to watch giving that one had a hand up her skirt and the other toyed with her tits. Her expression was pleasant like when she spoke to guests at parties! She didn't mind the interruptions when one of them had the urge to thrust his tongue into her mouth and always let her head bend the right way to accommodate them, turning sometimes directly from one to the other. The coffee was brought by a young uniformed waiter who leered at Martha enjoying the sight of her being touched up. As he placed a tray on the small table near the couch Martha's eyes met his as he took in every inch of her body dwelling on her exposed thighs. He lifted his gaze and as their eyes locked her look was flirtatious as though she was saying, "Do you like what you see?" She let her head turn to Dong all by itself to seek and receive a kiss and I saw her body relax and go limp letting the men continue their sexual roaming of her body. The bulging fist of the man up her skirt was visible at her belly. She squirmed and it was a mite too much for her so she eased him away by taking his wrist. Another few seconds and he was at it again clearly trying to invade her vagina with his fingers, she wriggled and pushed him away, but in a careful way. The next attempt made her break away from the kiss of Dong as she encountered more resistance from the man. She pushed her hand against his thick arm and looked down at what he was doing under her skirt. She gave a little cry – her eyes seemed half closed. I distinctly saw her as she tried - weakly and without determination – to push away the hand from her crotch letting her fingers close around the lower forearm sticking out from the split in her skirt. As she tried and failed, her attempts becoming less forceful each time, she watched the movements going on under her clothes all the time her eyes half closing then opening to dart around the room. If she saw me looking back it did not register or cause her alarm or embarrassment – but her gaze hesitated when she noted other men looking on. Her eyes went back to the movements at her crotch and her hand changed from pushing to opening her hand and wrapping her fingers around the forearm. Was she about to violently tug the man's hand away and scream? Not at all! Martha lifted her eyes to watch the other movement of Dong's fingers teasing her nipples; she bent her head to look at Dong as though thoughtful before returning to gaze down at her crotch. Her eyes more than half closed and a smile appeared from one side of her mouth at the same time as her fingers, not forcing but stroking the forearm began what was almost a caressing up and down action then cupped the invading bulging fist over her gusset. With a deep exhalation she let her head fall back and to my sorrow let it rest on Dong's wide shoulder opening her mouth and 'asking' for a dirty kiss. She had just submitted to having her cunt fingered and was clearly finding it pleasurable. The time passed painfully slowly. I had to keep track now of what Mickey and his partners were saying whilst at the same time feel compelled to watch my wife writhing on the couch between the two men. It came to end only when Mickey raised his voice and returned to his original seat the far end of the table. My wife remained still, slouched in the arms of the men who waited for instructions – why didn't she sit up and at least try to maintain her dignity? All My Fault Mickey motioned her over and quite serenely she sauntered over to sit by him. He whispered something to her. Martha looked uneasy for the first time but instead of crying out and pleading our case – or at least instinctively trying to defend her honour by plea or threat she whispered back! How patient the rest of the room was – and how tormented I felt – while my wife and the gangster indulged in their own little whispered conversation exchanging comments in a most conspiring manner. In spite of her apparent concern and unease still she didn't bring a halt to his groping hands and while whispering her replies to Mickey's comments let Bill fondle her in such a way that she needed to wriggle and move around in her seat – still Mickey's hands mauled and teased her tits tickling and arousing, for all to see, her now very stiff nipples. Unable to hear what was being said I could only surmise and gradually I saw that Mickey was making concessions and now Martha seemed to be more inclined to do the talking I felt hopeful. It was not be as when I saw Martha nod her head several times then let Mickey push his tongue into her mouth and give her a five second sloppy kiss my heart fell into my boots. I saw him give her a particularly hard squeeze and roughly rub over both her tits making her jump and give a cry but she remained placid and almost offered her mouth to him when he kissed her again. "We have made a decision!" Mickey announced. "The good lady doesn't want her husband to witness this part of the repayment of the debt and wants to perform her forfeit privately. Therefore we will have to separate company." There was a groan from the others. Mickey summoned a henchman and had a short conversation. The gorilla motioned another man to join him then they turned to me! Only much later did I put the pieces together and realise the chain of events and imagine how my wife and Mickey conspired together – striking a bargain. It seemed she had told him that whatever they intended doing with her that she didn't want it to be in my presence. Whether that was for my consideration or hers is a matter of opinion. She had told Mickey she wanted to go to a different room though whether she knew at that stage just what he had in mind again is debatable and something I will never know. I was heaved up from my seat and frogmarched out of the room and though I felt very scared and in the pits of hell – not to mention betrayed and on the point of sobbing I shot a glance at Martha as we passed on their side of the table and while she avoided making eye contact with me I saw just how lewd and outrageous she had been. Her skirt was not merely bunched up to allow sight of her stocking tops but was well above her belly. Her panties, brief anyway, had creased up at the gusset and clearly, without force and quite willingly she was sat with her thighs parted wide. Bill's hand was still resting on her inner thigh. Bizarrely the cruellest and most upsetting act my wife carried out at that point – and really floored me - was the way she calmly reached out and took a sip of her drink – just as I was being dragged past her chair. Of course she had expected too much from Mickey. She didn't know it then but he wasn't going to be so compassionate as to let her have her way and spare me the pain. Unknown to Martha he had instructed the two henchmen to cart me off to a little room at the top of the building – the one which served as the central security station for the club. Mickey wasn't a bright man but he had embraced modern technology and paid to have the best men rig out his club. From early warnings of a police raid by having camera's scanning the streets back and front to perverted set ups in rooms reserved for sex – Mickey had the latest gear. So that was the plan. Mickey was going to amuse himself by having me watch Martha perform for him. But she would think that I was well out of the way – fuck – she had requested and negotiated that arrangement herself! The men with me were intent on forcing me to watch but force wasn't necessary – It would be difficult for me but I wanted to see what my wife was capable of and had a thousand questions going around in my head. I watched the screen closely and saw Martha being gently pushed into the room. It was quite a big room and had easy chairs and couch beside a small bed in the corner. She stood uneasy and unsure, coy, and glancing down at the floor with her hands clasped in front of her letting her head rise up slightly every ten seconds or so like a self conscious teenager would – almost like she was impersonating the body language of the late Princess Diana. Then in walked Mickey and now I was about to be shocked further and with a vengeance. Behind Mickey trooped two others, Bill and the other 'suit'. They were going to make my wife take part in a threesome! Again, it my belief that Martha was under the impression that her forfeit was to perform with just Mickey and the man Bill only – which she was quite prepared and happy to go along with – she had not realised that after the main show that she would have to satisfy the whole bunch in one way or another. It will be easier, while I relate this story to call them by name but the term 'Fucking Bastards' fits better. The then unknown one Gary, was first to strip off his shirt and went to hold my wife feeling her tits while the others took their time, undressing and opening a bottle of spirits. Gary bent to kiss her neck and breasts and encouraged her to watch the others strip. That familiar blank look, giving nothing away, but just showing a trace of a smirk remained on her face. Though I expected it I still felt strange when the guys, now stripped down to just their trousers motioned to her and she quite willingly drew her top up over her head and took it off. Feeling my heart sink at that sight I then felt worse as I saw how she tilted her head co-operatively to receive a kiss from Bill who had moved to her other side. She didn't wince or struggle as two different hands played with her tits, now able to slip off her bra straps and uncover her nipples and make them accessible to suck too. Meanwhile Mickey had undressed completely except for his underpants and was stood in front of Martha about to turn it into an event. The men were amused as they eased off her allowing her to witness the great unveiling of Mickey's penis. The men laughed as he dropped his pants but on the face of Martha I saw her eyes open wide and the corner of her mouth slowly stretched wider to form an unmistakeably admiring and approving smile. Mickey played with his foreskin in front of her and it was apparent that all three now were very much aware that Martha was very much interested and willing. My torment was disturbed by the guy stood next to me growl to his mate, "Is there no fucking sound to this?" " 'Course there is you fucking moron!" The second guy tweaked a knob and the first thing I heard was Martha's giggle. "Now whose cock would you like first?" guffawed the arrogant Mickey. Martha went shy, giggled nervously again and said she didn't know. Without further ado but with measured and controlled movements her skirt was undone and falling to the floor was cast aside. She moved her feet widening her stance while a hand played between her legs and she calmly looked down to watch its movements. Asked again the same question she had to be pressed for an answer. "I don't know!" she insisted in a squeak. "Does it not matter to you then?" Bill teased. "No!" she said, backed into a corner. "You'd like any one of them then – like having any cock at all up you?" The comments and questions were loaded and designed to paint the worse picture because they knew I was watching and listening. "Yes!" she said probably not seeing the implication of what she was saying. Her hand was guided to hold a penis but it didn't need prompting on what to do. "You're going to enjoy it whichever cock fucks you first?" When Martha gasped and sucked in air Mickey forced her to reply, "You're going to enjoy having us fuck you? You're going to enjoy having a cock inside you?" Mickey moved in between the two men who held my wife. She placed her own arms around their shoulders as her left leg was lifted high and Mickey inserted his cock inside her cunt. "Are you going to enjoy it?" "Yes!" she answered eventually. He began to move his hips holding her arse and periodically letting his head drop to suck her nipples. "We saw you on the couch – you liked having the guys touch you didn't you?" Mickey panted and looked depraved and manic as he forced the answers from her. She had nodded her head. "Did you like the size of Dong's cock"? She must have thought it best to say yes. "Do you wonder what it would feel like – being fucked with a pole that size? Do you want me to bring him in later?" Martha bit her lip – and nodded her head. "Yes!" she hissed. She was fucked hard and long whilst propped up in a standing position by the two other men. Her face only grimaced through the pleasure and sexual excitement she experienced because the sounds she made were not those of a distressed woman though she was very vocal. Mickey announced his climax with a great roar and flexing of muscle and Martha's eyes opened wide staring at the evil man but smiled when he bent to take her tit in his mouth While my heart ached and my eyes filled up I let my mind wander then before I knew it I was watching a scene of my wife being used by the two guys Bill and Gary. Half draped over the couch one had her head over his cock while the other was ramming her doggy fashion. I witnessed Gary take his cock in hand offering it to her and I saw her open her mouth and greedily bob her head voluntarily and begin to suck him off. She was compliant and a willing participant – enjoying it, like she had said. "Come and fuck the guys wife!" Mickey was heard to say. I was to hear an almost identical instruction a few minutes later but this time the voice came from behind me – Mickey had come to gloat and had entered the room. "Go and fuck the guys wife!" he told my guards, "I'll stay here and keep an eye on him." Now he had made me watch him shag my wife he was going to delight seeing the pain in my face as she was gangbanged. He hadn't reckoned on her unexpected reaction but it added to his pleasure making me watch her obvious joy at having other cock. "Don't worry about asking her permission," he laughed as the men left the room, "Or forcing her – she loves it!" He sat and watched me – and I watched the screen. For over an hour I witnessed my wife give her body completely to any combination the men came up with. The highlight for Mickey was seeing me horrified as the scene showed Martha panting for breath as she was being fucked on her back while her hands were required to work on two other dicks. The zoom facility showed clearly how her eyes dwelled lustfully on the patient waiting Dong who was saving biggest till last and tantalising and tempting her by playing with his monster penis, grinning down at her. She stared and gaped at his cock and let her gaze flit to his eyes giving him a smile, telling him she was looking forward to having him inside her. She let her tongue run over her lips. When a cock was offered to her mouth she was always ready to oblige but most disheartening of all was the dialogue I was forced to listen to. "Do you like that?" "Yes" "Do you want it harder or shall I be very gentle with you?" (Said with sarcasm) "No – harder!" "Have you had other men before – since you've been married?" "A couple of times!" "And do you like it?" "Yeah!" "Tell us – say it for us!" There was dirty laughter. "I like having cock!" She said it like she meant it – and clearly she did. She took it any way and was happy to swallow and lick up sperm. She laughed with them and rode them and moved in any way they told her too. She was happy to wank a cock while others spread her legs wide and opened her cunt lips exploring and examining her pussy while they caught their breath and recovered. She even responded to comments and filthy small talk at the same time. "Would you like Dong to come and give you a good fucking now?" Now she had lost her shyness and this is what they all knew she had been waiting for. "Yeah!" "Ask him nicely! Tell him what you want him to do?" "Come and fuck me Dong!" she said slowly and sensuously, "Please." With a silly smile on her face she happily perched her bottom on the edge of the bed and opened her thighs wide leaning back on her elbows. They all wanted to see Dong's dick go right inside her and she was happy to play the game. What a noise she made as the giant eased his thick dick inside her making the sides of her pussy stretch. She squealed and cried out. "Do you want him to stop?" asked a guy though her negative request would have fallen on deaf ears. She surprised them (and me) by yelling loudly, "No!" Dong went all the way inside her and her eyes went wide and her mouth flew open. Her body dropped as he began his motion of thrust and ease back then thrust again like a slow piston engine revving up gear. She cried out and he climbed over her leaning down to use his mouth on her. His big body almost covered her fully from view but I saw her hips come forward and her arms around his shoulders showed she was responding and liking it. Dong pummelled my wife and her vocal orgasm was no fake. We stood in the foyer, Mickey, his smirking goons and the businessmen. We waited for Martha. She appeared and it was time for us to go home. Her hair, though tidied up was not as immaculate as when she had arrived. He see-through gauzy top that I knew would be the cause of attracting too much attention betrayed the fact that she had forgotten, or hadn't see the point, of putting her bra back on. Her expression was dreamy; sexy I would have thought normally but not worn to inspire me. Her stockings were torn and her skirt a mess - stained somewhat. That mouth still had the trace of a smirk and her eyes had remained almost half-closed. I dragged her out to the taxi with Mickey's last words echoing in my ears. "I'll let you survive. I won't ruin you, or your business. I might have a need for you." I opened the door but felt shit when Martha looked back and said, "Goodnight!" Fuck – did she want me to fucking strangle her?" I was silent for a while then said, "What happened when they took you away?" "You must be able to imagine," she answered then she admitted, "Mickey made me have sex with him to pay you back. I had to give head to the others too. They made me keep it my mouth when they came – I had to swallow." She may have figured that by revealing this 'shocking' fact that it would be enough and I would question her no more. "What else – is that all?" "Is that not enough?" she said angrily, keeping her voice down so the driver didn't hear. "Right!" I breathed. Our journey was almost at an end when she said, "He offered me a job – to help work off your debt." "What sort of job? I've repaid the debt." "I haven't totally repaid my part!" she snapped. "He said I can work for him - part time – help entertain his clients and friends." "You work for him? Fuck!" "It's your debt I'm working off – not my fault – not my idea." There was further silence until we were in the house. "What did you tell him?" She threw her coat down and poured a stiff drink. "I said yes!" she told me, "I told him I was willing." Epilogue. Mickey has a cruel and nasty way of turning the screw. Three months later he called me to his office. Throwing a folder over to me he motioned me to look at the contents. "I ought to send you an invoice for this," he told me, "Most husbands have to pay a private detective to get this shit on their wives." I opened the folder and looked at the pictures. Taken through the back window of a vehicle was the wide shoulders of a big man, a female head was visible also. Picture two was the same taken through the side window. The big man had a woman, undressed, straddling his lap. The woman was Martha – riding Dong's big dick. "Taken in a local car park – one dark night – after your wife finished 'work' entertaining three of my best clients." The next one showed Martha sat on the edge of a small couch in what appeared to be the room of a hotel. She was without outer clothing and seemed to be talking to a man whose left hand side torso, showing shirt and trousers was just visible. I didn't recognise the underwear of red and black basque and dainty suspender belt holding up black stockings. One strap had fallen from her shoulder letting a breast become almost uncovered. A hand resting on the back of the couch belonged to a quite different man. Amazingly the last but most revealing detail that registered to me was that she wasn't wearing any panties. It seemed to be a picture of the aftermath of a sex session – a threesome. I looked up at Mickey and asked why he had shown me these things. He smirked and I just knew he was about to come up with one of his sick put-downs. "I want you to do me a favour pal – and I'll do you one. Your wife has proved to be a bit too distracting if you get my drift. My men are finding it difficult to concentrate on their jobs – having a nympho on tap and available any time. She's really great – but hell – she fucks anything in pants and she's wearing them out – the men, not the pants. Tell you what? You take her home and I'll call her if I want to arrange an orgy. We'll call your debt paid in full now – shit man – she's more than repaid it! Tell her thanks but we're done with her now. Hope she manages to readjust and doesn't fuck all the neighbours and give the milkman a fucking heart attack! Thank you for calling – pick up your wife on the way out. Good afternoon." At home I looked down at her, sat in a chair with her skirt creased up. She gazed back at me showing that little one sided smile. "So – he's done with you – what do I want you for now? Should I just throw you out with the rest of the trash?" She was unperturbed and kept her smile. "He found a use for me – I certainly helped make him some money and close deals. I kept people sweet and off his back. Why don't I do the same thing for, well.... our business. Why don't we move on somewhere else – I'll look after customer relations and see to the entertainment? Don't think I be going back to the kitchen sink and playing the quiet little housewife – even if you wanted me to. You know what you've got with me – you know where we stand. It's up to you." Mickey had taught her something. We have a thriving business now. People who we need things from tend to cooperate. The End All My Fault "It's all your fault, you know." I was jolted to awakeness by those soft words from my loving wife of just over five years. We were spooned together, me behind her, in a warm embrace. I was feeling very relaxed, defenceless and ready to sleep after a VERY passionate session of love making. My wife, Katey, had initiated it (rare occurrence) and had been very animated and seemed determined to "kill me with kindness" (never occurrence). It was definitely one for the record books. I'm never one to question a good thing but I guess even I should have been suspicious. The piper must be paid. "Huh? Wha..? What did I do?" Those were the only words I could conjure from my mostly shut down brain going now into full defence mode. That's what we guys do when confronted by our spouses. We go on full defence, knowing we did something wrong and are going to be paying for it even when we have no idea what it was we did. I was now tense but dared not move, waiting for the revelation of what I was going to be paying for and how much was owed. I felt a slight jab in the ribs from a feminine elbow. Not hard, just enough for effect. Almost playful I might say. "It's all your damn fault. According to the timetable, 'The Plan' should be in full effect. We should in divorce court right now with me being on my way to a somewhat prosperous single lifestyle. I also should be on the lookout for husband number 2" Now I was awake. "What the fuck are you talking about? What plan? You're out of your fucking mind. You're not making any sense." My voice was kicking up in both volume and pitch into that awful male version of whiny. It was rare I ever cussed at Katy and here I was cussing and whining at the same time. She turned to face me as I laid propped up on an elbow. She threw a soft leg over mine and placed her index finger across my lips. She started to whisper to me. "Shhhhh, shhhhh baby. Don't swear at me. It's okay. Just relax. I have something to tell you and I didn't know how to bring it up so I just sort of blurted that out. Relax. Relax. I'd tell you not to get your pants in a bunch but I seem to remember you're not wearing any at the moment." She then gently reached over and grabbed my recently well used and very happy member and said, "I think I'll hold on to my friend here so I can tell you what I have to say and keep you from doing something stupid. This won't hurt a bit unless you try to run out or jump up or some other crazy thing." I can't say I was reassured but as long as she held onto MY best friend, I was willing to listen. I wasn't sure I was going to like it but as long as she held the little head, the big head wasn't so concerned about thinking anymore. I could see her smile in the dim light and she continued to whisper her assurances. "That's it, just relax. Everything is fine, you'll see." She took a deep breath. "I've been a real snot to you for the past month or so starting before I went to visit my mom and sisters. I know that. Subconsciously, it was part of my exit strategy." "Exit strategy?" I felt myself tensing again. She tightened her grip on our mutual friend and continued to reassure me. "Just relax. You'll understand soon enough." "So. I went on my little reunion trip and visited my mom first, as you know. I not only went to see her but to get a little encouragement and advice about implementing 'The Plan'. One thing I hadn't counted on was seeing her in her element and observing her life a bit. She lives in this great house and owns a couple of very cool cars -- my favorite is the Maserati. She has these young boy-toys she plays with and seems to have everything a woman could want, if you're into money and the trappings of wealth. She got all that by devising and following 'The Plan', a term she sort of coined." "'The Plan' is simply to find some guy to marry and to stay married for about 5 years. You then divorce him and get half of the assets and move on to the next husband and do it all over again. My mom has been married now 7 times, has 3 daughter's from 3 different husbands and is now divorced, she says for the final time, and is living a very plush life. She admonished me that it was time for me to move on and gave me a list of things to be sure I did and things to ask for during the divorce process. You know, negotiating tips. You didn't know it but you were about to be hung out to dry." That told me a lot. I always wondered why my wife never invited me to go to visit her mother or any of her sisters. It was like she was ashamed of me or something. Now my view of them was that they were a bunch of man hating bitches and I was a mere fly in their soup. It appeared being kept from the family 'get togethers' was a good thing but this still did nothing to calm my growing fear that this was not going to end well. The fact that she was telling me this was a small glimmer of hope. Since process servers don't usually appear in your bedroom at night to serve you with divorce papers it didn't make sense that she was going to spring a surprise "gotcha" announcement on me right now. Katey continued. "With renewed determination and more ammunition, I went to see my eldest sister, Janine. She seems to be doing okay. She had just married husband number 3 and is living a pretty plush life. I got to meet Trent, her new husband. He seemed all right but was pretty dull overall and always seemed to be leering at me. Janine said he was a sales rep and was gone a lot which was okay with her because he was pretty boring in bed. She said she couldn't wait for these next 5 years to be over. She talked somewhat fondly about her first husband, Tim, whom she said was a fantastic lover and generally a good man. From what she knows he has remarried with 2 kids now and seems pretty happy. She ran into him recently and at least now they could talk because he was no longer hurting and angry. I seriously doubt they will ever be any kind of friends though. It's kind of sad, I always liked Tim and thought he was good for her. I never met husband number 2. Janine just married him because he was rich. He treated her pretty badly overall, I guess. I kinda came away from Janine's with some doubts, but not enough to call off step 1 of 'The Plan'. Janine also gave me some hints about finding a good lawyer to handle our divorce and some questions to ask to insure that the lawyer was fully on board with what was needed to get the most from you." I was starting to get pissed. Here was the woman I loved and adored, nonchalantly telling me her plans of how she was going to destroy me -- not just financially but also emotionally. It probably was a good thing she held me by my cock because I was ready to jump up and start tearing up the place. I think she sensed this because her grip started to feel tighter, or maybe it's because I was firming up because she was holding me and adrenaline was beginning to course through my veins. Katey took a deep breath and reassured me, "Almost finished, hang in there, you can have your say in just a minute more." "I then went to see Cheryl. We had a great time catching up since she and I used to be pretty close when we were young. She was married to Kyle for almost 6 years and divorced him 2 years ago. I told her I had just come from seeing Mom and Janine and she asked how they were doing. She also asked, which I thought was kind of strange, if they seemed happy. I thought about it and said that Mom seemed content but still seemed a bit bitter whenever she mentioned the former men in her life. Cheryl said she was pretty sure Janine's Dad had really done a number on Mom and second-handedly to Janine to make them both hate men the way they do. That was kind of a revelation to me. That sort of explained why Mom came up with 'The Plan' in the first place and why she preached it constantly to us when we were growing up. It was this secret we kept from her husbands and bound us together in a sisterhood. We were always involved in the process of appeasing the current husband and marking time until his 5 year term was up and then we sort of pushed him out of our minds and hearts. It seemed Cheryl and I were even able to do this to our own fathers, whom we both felt close to. We, at least I, actually believed this was the way things were done by every family until I got older and had friends whose Dad was the father of all the kids and was still part of the family. It's funny the shit we believe to be normal." "Cheryl and I talked quite a bit about our respective fathers. She is pretty close to her father and I adore my dad, as you are fully aware. My dad at least, is still pretty hurt and puzzled about how Mom could just divorce him and drive him out. I think he needs some answers. I'm sure he is still wondering what he did to Mom to push her away. The poor guy still doesn't have a clue. I may have to come up with a way of letting him know without alienating Mom. I've got to work on that one." "Anyway, as Cheryl and I talked, I told her that I was getting ready to start my version of 'The Plan' and she just got this really sad look on her face. She then just sighed heavily. She told me that divorcing Kyle was the worst mistake she had ever made in her life. She said that he loved her and treated her very well and she in turn loved and cared for him. They were partners and friends and she hates that she succumbed to the pressure from Mom and Janine to 'get with the plan'. She got tears in her eyes and said that the man who once adored her now hates her guts and will not even talk to her. She has tried to contact him but he got a restraining order against her for harassment. She has started dating again but is looking for another Kyle which isn't to be had. She then looked at me hard and asked if I was happy in my marriage. I had to admit that I was. I thought for a while longer and knew that I was very, very happy and would be hard pressed to replace you. Plus, for the first time, I thought of what you would think and feel if I just up and divorced you. How could I do that to you? I'm ashamed to say that that thought never even occurred to me before. How stupid is that?" I just looked, I'm sure with a fair amount of horror, at my Katey. Horrified, that this woman I loved could even think in these terms without regard to me and my feelings -- for the entire time we had been together. Shocked, that she was even talking about this like it was some casual event. Pissed, that other people, outside of our life together, could hold such sway over her to be encouraging her to break us up without regard to how WE felt and this was part of her deep seated belief system. I was also sick and hurt that this might be the end of us. I felt helpless, enraged and on the verge of tears. Katey just looked at me with tears forming in her big hazel eyes. "I know, baby, and I'm so very sorry. I know it all sounds so crazy. It even sounds crazy to me now that I've had a chance to really think about it all." Katey reached up to stroke my cheek and pulled my head in close for a kiss. A soft kiss of hope and gratitude then she whispered to me in a husky voice filled with emotion, "I knew right then. I knew without a doubt, that I could never let you go. Could never divorce you because of some stupid 'Plan' that came about because my mom had been hurt years ago. I love you too much. I could never, ever find anyone else who makes me feel the way that you do and loves me the way that you prove to me all the time. I'm afraid you're stuck with me... Unless of course, you realize I'm too crazy to live with and decide to implement 'The Plan' yourself. The ball is in your court now. You have to decide. I've already called my mom and my sisters and told them 'The Plan' was no longer a part of my plans or my life." She released her grip on my penis and encircled my neck, locking me into a loving embrace and kissing me squarely and passionately on my lips. "I'm yours until you can no longer stand me." All the doubts and anger vanished in the second she took to utter those words. I was sure. I was relieved. I was in love. We made love again with more passion and force than we had since probably our honeymoon. Two people reaffirming their love and commitment to each other in a way that only comes when they both feel and believe it at their very core. We were back to spooning in much the same position we were in before her confession when she whispered, "Now that we are stuck with each other, maybe we should discuss those children you have been hinting strongly about having." + + + + + I was standing next to the hospital bed that held the frail, cancer ravaged body of Katey, my wife of the over 62 years that flew by way too fast. I was holding her hand trying desperately to steady myself. Across the room from the bed sat our 4 children, their spouses and some of our older grandchildren. Our 12 year old granddaughter, Jenny, looked at me intently and asked, "What were you thinking about, Poppy." Perceptive little stinker always seemed to know when my mind was far away. "I was thinking of the time that I found out for sure that your grandmother really loved me." I smiled at the memory but felt sick knowing that soon our life together would be ending. Katey's suffering would soon be over and I would then just have to wait out my days until it was my turn. I felt a light tug at my hand. Katey's eyes were open and clear and her breathing was steady and calm for the first time in days. I could sense that she wanted me to come close to her. I leaned down and she willed me into a dry lipped kiss. She fought to speak and her voice was labored and raspy, "I've had a wonderful life, my love." Her big hazel eyes twinkled warmly. "It's all your fault, you know." ^ ^ ^ ^ This story is dedicated to my sweet daughter Tracy who succumbed to cancer in June of 2011.