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What Goes Around

By: curious2c



I could see that she was angry. The look on her face was clearly Anger with the capital A. I could also see something else in her eyes too, that look that I had felt myself once before, not so long ago if I didn't miss my guess. 

Of course, I was in bed with her best friend, and we were both naked, having just had one great round of sex. Her friend was actually better at fucking than Betty was. I hadn't been surprised about that. Shawna had 'that' going for her, and I suppose 'that' is what made her such a great lay.

Shawna is a blonde, shapely sex Goddess. Kinda along the lines of Miss Monroe of the fifties and sixties...you know...sex...all sex. Oozing sex. Bursting through with sexuality and expressing it in such a...well...sexy way. She knew what she had and she used it...often

I didn't have to work too hard to get Shawna in bed either. Matter of fact, once she realized that I was coming on to her, it took...oh...maybe ten seconds for her to go into slut mode. Even though I was fairly certain of what to expect, I was surprised at how quickly she took the bait, considering that I was married to her best friend and all.

Betty stood there in the doorway of our bedroom, shocked at first. Then I saw the red anger clouding up in her cheeks. Then I saw a flickering of that something I knew was the pain of discovery. I knew that I had gotten the message across at that point. Betty turned and walked out. I heard, rather, we heard the front door slam.

I had a couple of things in my mind at that moment. First, the fact that Betty had said nothing...just stood there glaring. The second was Shawna who, much to my surprise, started to work on me some more. She had seen Betty standing there and just went back down on me, working me back up. As if her being naked in bed with me was no big deal at all.

"Oh baby, now that I've had you, I need you again. You know, you really surprised me when you started to come on to me earlier, but I am glad that you did. I've wanted to fuck you ever since Betty married you. You are one hot hunk of man."

"You're not upset that Betty knows about this?"

"Oh baby, she'll come around. If she doesn't, so much the better, cause you'll be a free agent, and I'd do anything to hook up with you for a while. I can't understand why you changed your mind like you did, but I'm sure glad you did."

I was uncomfortable, even though I knew my reason for being naked in bed, sweaty having fucked a hot and wanton woman was just.

'Just' you ask? Let me explain.

We have been married for a few years, and the 'edge' of the newness of all that had worn off. I guess we had hit the seven-year itch you could say. I hadn't, until that day eight weeks ago. Two months...just two short months ago.

I came home early from work, unexpectedly, and when I walked into the house I was about to shout out I was home. Before I did I noticed the clothes leading to our bedroom door. Mans slacks, woman's skirt. Mans shirt, woman's blouse. They shouted at me to keep quiet. So I was.

Looking in the bedroom door I was stunned at finding my wife, Betty, naked on top of some guy that I didn't know...and they were fucking. I could see that it wasn't their first time that day, as Betty had semen running down the crack of her ass, and I think it was seeping from her little brown bud. That same little brown bud that she had steadfastly refused to allow me to enter.

They were engrossed with each other and didn't hear or see or even sense me, although I think Betty may have had a premonition since she froze for a second just as I started to turn to leave. I stopped and held still, then she shook herself a bit and went right back to work.

I stood away in the hall listening to them until they finished up. I heard them talking and from that talk I learned that this was not the first time, nor would it be the last. From what I gathered, this had been going on for quite some time. They made plans for their next tryst, and then I heard them laughing and playing around as they headed into the master bathroom to clean up and probably have some more sex in the process.

I went out to my car, after having checked the wallet in the pants of the asshole I 'd just caught my wife with. Name and address, and some other information, like the picture of the wife and three kids, credit card numbers, and a bit more. I drove away, and since I had two hours to kill before I was expected home, I drove to a nearby park and thought out what I was going to do.

Never having been in such a situation before, at first I had wanted to go kill two people. But then I realized that would only serve to put me in jail and never have any peace. I wondered why of course, since I had thought that Betty loved and respected me. She always told me she loved me every morning as I headed out to work, so I didn't have any reason to not believe her...until now.

Knowing that my marriage was about to end I decided that a little revenge would serve them both right. I also knew that I'd never be able to do much to hurt Betty, at least not quite like she had just hurt me, but even though I still loved her, I knew I'd never be able to live with her after this. Their words burned in my mind.

"So did you ever expect us to be so good together Betty?"

"Oh no Sam. You're so perfect...I mean that too. Everything about you is perfect. I wish I had met you before. I really do. We could have had a great time all these years."

"Yeah, well, I was married right out of high school, and then started working for the wife's old man, so that would never have happened, but I'm like you. I wish we'd met a long time ago. You're a right fine babe."

"You know that I love Jim, but he doesn't do it for me like you do. I just hope we never get caught. Jim would probably try to hurt you...and fail of course, but then I'd have to explain everything, and that would be a large pain in my ass. After all, I don't love you anyway. I love fucking you...sucking you...having you inside me...Oh god I love that especially. You fit me just right."

Their words were indelibly etched into my heart. How long had they been doing this? I didn't know, but I knew it had been too long already. He was bigger than I was in height and build, but I think that Betty would have been shocked and more than a little surprised to find out that he would have been the one hurting. 

I had been in the service, and she knew that, but she didn't know about my boxing days. I kept that from most people since I had hurt Billy so bad that day...he was still messed up in the head from it, and I just wanted to forget all about what I had done to him in that ring. 

I had been young and feeling tough, as had Billy. We had an exhibition match, and during that match he had been talking to me between punches. His banter had gotten to me and my eyes saw red at one point. He had been teasing me about my then girlfriend, and how he'd have her that night after he got done beating me to a pulp. It had been that friendly banter used to irritate a buddy, he'd not been serious. In the heat of the moment, I had missed that though.

He never stood a chance and I started to beat him senseless. Before the ref could get in I had hit him eight times hard in the head because my first punch caused his hands to drop away. I think he had been going down on my first hit...but I never gave him the chance. After the fight he'd been taken to the hospital, out cold and they were unable to bring him out of it. He'd been in the coma for a week.

He never recovered to be quite the same man. He quit boxing, and it was as if he had lost some part of 'him'. They had to re-teach him how to talk, and do the basics of living all over again. I had taken away 'Billy' and left a five-year old child in a grown mans body. I quit fighting after that, and I also put some money into his bank account time to time to help take care of him. 

His parent's thought I was a hell of a nice man...I didn't, I felt like a jerk. Hence, I didn't talk about that time with anyone. I carried that around with me all this time, knowing that with my hands I was dangerous. I was far more dangerous than the average person and definitely not one to fuck with.

Now, I sat there in the park wanting to hurt two people...but knowing that I could never go there without screwing up my entire life. So I came up with an alternative plan. One that was twisted, but just as twisted as what Betty and Sam had done to me. 

I set out to plan what I'd do, and today was part of the culmination of my revenge. I can't say I'm proud of it all, but I do feel somewhat vindicated. I wouldn't sleep well for some time to come at any rate, but I would be sleeping a bit better...at least I thought so.

Shawna left about an hour after Betty 'caught' us together. She managed to get me up two more times, although the last time I never came, I did get her off quite well. Shawna kept telling me that I was pretty well hung too. I supposed after seeing Sam, I was better hung than he was, which was part of why I didn't understand Betty's words about how nicely he fit her. 

Later that evening Betty came to the house with her sister in tow, and they gathered up her things. I never said a word, and Betty acted like I should have been begging for forgiveness. I didn't and I think that hurt her worse than I could have by 'finding' her and Sam together.

Her sister hung around for a bit when Betty took the last of her stuff to the pickup.

"Why? Why would you do that to Betty? How could you do that with Shawna of all people? I don't understand you at all anymore Jim."

"Try asking Betty about Sam. Then come back and ask me that again...that is if Betty tells you the truth about Sam. Call it what you want, I feel quite good how things have turned out. I hope that Betty understands what this means."

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?"

"Ask Betty. You're her sister Susan, but you don't know her very well. I found out about her two months ago and I have had one hell of a time keeping control. You just ask Betty all about Sam, then remind her that it takes two to tango, and once one starts that tango, not to expect the other partner in the marriage to not do something...something about it."

"You're saying that Betty cheated on you? BULLSHIT."

"I have it on tape, several of them as a matter of fact Sue. I also have them in my mind from the first time I saw them. Yes...Betty cheated on me. She started this mess, and now I'm finishing it up. She can have her lover, and I hope they fucking choke on each other."

After they left I made the call I had been dreading. The beans were spilt though and I had to get in touch with Sam's wife before he could put any spin control on what was about to become public knowledge.

After having seen them together that day I had figured out a plan of action. Part of that plan had been to get even and let Betty 'catch' me doing so. I wanted her to feel that intense pain of discovery. How I'd felt, or at least I hoped she would feel that pain. After all, I had felt that pain not so long back now...and it still was a raw festering wound in my heart. 

Part had been to tape the two lovers together, which hadn't been too hard. They met three times a week, Mondays, Wednesdays' and Fridays, just after lunch and they always did it in our bedroom. How long exactly I wasn't sure, but it had been going on long enough to let me know that our whole marriage was a sham now.

I just set up a camcorder and a timer, and caught them all on digital. Each time I downloaded it to my computer, I felt sick. It took all I had to go undercover like I did, mainly because I was constantly fighting the urge to kill and maim. Both of them.

I had also moved money around, investments, and other financial items had been addressed as well. After my call to Sam's wife with the promise of copies of what I had on film, I made another call to my bank. I found out that Betty had just learned about the changes, and she had laid into the poor girl there like a tornado. 

I felt bad that innocent people had to be a part of such a bad scene, but I really didn't have a way to insulate some parts of my plan, moving as fast as I had. I was alone for the rest of the week, and actually didn't mind it too much considering what had transpired.

Susan called me one day and made me make a date to talk to her. I was reluctant to do so because I thought that she'd be trying to push Betty back into my life and I didn't nor couldn't allow that. I loved her still, but that would go away eventually, and what Betty had done to our marriage was too much for this man to take.

I didn't know how it happened, and I didn't care either. That Betty had done it was more than enough. My revenge had been harsh, but nothing what her sister put her through after the truth all came out. 

"So. Betty turned out to be a stupid bitch. I'm sorry Jim."

"Well, I never expected to hear that from you Susan."

"Hey, she had the best man in the whole world, and fucked it all up by having that tawdry affair like she did. I hope you never take her back that's for sure. It would serve her right."

"Then your hopes will happen, because I've filed. I also gave copies of everything I had to her lovers wife, so I imagine that he'll be suffering right now too."

"Shawna? Why her of all people anyway? You only did it with her in order to get caught by Betty, I know I asked Shawna about it and she was quite forward in telling the tale so to speak. But, why did you choose her?"

"She was amendable to my plan and she lives close by. Matter of fact, once she understood why I was doing what I was doing she was insistent that she be the one to be with me when Betty caught me cheating."

"I always thought they were friends."

"Yeah...me too. Guess not though. You know, maybe Betty is as superficial as Shawna is and I just never noticed it. Shawna told me that she had always wanted me...so it was so much better knowing that before hand."

"Remind me to never cross you Jim. By the way, why?"

"My only other alternative was to do bodily harm to them both. I've been there before...never want to go there again. It still haunts me."

"What? Been there before? Haunts you?"

"Never mind. Water long since under the bridge and I won't talk about it now."

My thoughts were on that ring that day so long ago. 

"I wish I could have seen the look on her face when she caught you two. I'll be she was furious."

"Why?"

"Why what Jim?"

"Why are you being so damn nice all of the sudden, and why aren't you taking up for your sister? She is family after all Sue."

"First of all, I was always jealous of Betty when she met you Jim. I always had a crush on you. Always. Secondly, she had, as I said, the best man in the world, yet she couldn't be happy with just you. I can't understand what she was thinking at all." 

"Yeah...well that's something I can't understand either, but for very different reasons than yours I suspect."

"You could have left her some cash you know. Mom and dad were furious with you until I found out what she had been doing with Sam, and once I told them, well, things changed rather quick. Dad wanted to kick her out immediately, but mom managed to stop that...barely. I thought for a bit that dad was going to kick mom out with her. It was a close thing."

"Whoa."

"You know that mom and dad had a similar thing in their early days right?"

"Nope."

"Oh yeah. Dad caught mom fucking around on him, and he went berserk on them. Daddy beat her lover to a bloody pulp, almost killing him. He kicked mom out for a while, but eventually he took her back. I guess quite a few people were amazed that their marriage managed to survive it...the other couple didn't though. They were divorced rather quickly."

"Wow, I never knew that."

"I guess daddy was thinking like mother like daughter. He was even a bit pissy with me for a while too. He got over it though. It's a wonder that Betty didn't think of that before she...strayed."

We talked some more, but I wanted to finish up and get back home. Since Betty wasn't there I had been left with the house cleaning, things that I had taken for granted...when I had been so happily married that is. Susan though, wanted to talk. It took me a while, but I finally realized that she was trying to work a way to come on to me. I shut her down as soon as I knew that.

"Susan, why are you talking to me like I'm something more to you suddenly?

"Look Jim, just because Betty decided to throw away your marriage doesn't mean that I don't find you attractive and someone I'd like to get to know better."

"Oh. Well honestly Sue I'm not interested in starting anything right now. My fling with Shawna was to show Betty what it felt like to have a spouse cheat on you with someone. I'll admit it had a bit of spice, but I found out that I couldn't fuck around anymore. At least not until all this shit with Betty is settled and done with. I'm not built that way."

"You'll give me a chance?"

"I don't know Sue. I honestly don't know. Maybe...but don't hold your breath. I may end up moving somewhere else. This whole thing has messed up my mind pretty bad."

She left, a little wiser and a little sadder I think. She is a nice looking lady and any man would be lucky to have her...but I had an issue in that her sister was too close to home...so to speak. I had been married to her sister until all this crap happened. Now I wanted distance from my soon to be former wife.

My life went fairly smoothly for a while after the shit settled down. It took four long months, but eventually the courts and the judge arrived at a just decision, and we were granted a divorce. Actually, I was granted the divorce, as Betty at first refused to allow it, then tried to turn it around on me, then finally tired to hit me for more financial comfort. Ours was a typical semi-bad divorce, but I held on and my lawyer ended up being a good investment. 

Now I was officially alone and single. I took the alone part to heart hard though. I had a difficult time sleeping. I was miserable when at home, and I soon learned that I had to get rid of the damned house in order to try to find peace of mind. 

In the divorce I ended up with the house, and so I put it on the market, .I had tried for months to work out living there but that damn place held way too many memories, now mostly the bad ones, so I realized that it had to go. 

I found out several things in the process. During the divorce for whatever reason, the lawyers had used the original appraisal instead of having a new one done. Partially due to the fact that at the time the appraisal was to be done, Betty was certain that I'd come around and take her back, so she had told her lawyer to use the appraisal we already had, as it was only three years old. Due to that, when the realtor came up with a new value I found myself suddenly sitting on a house worth half again as much as I thought it was worth. 

The other thing was that my house was in a hot spot and desired by almost everyone who knew about it being on the market. By the time the realtor had the house listed there were people lining up to look at it. When it finally sold six couples were bidding on it and it was all out war between them to get my house. I ended up accepting an offer that was above the accessed value by a large margin.

Moving to a new job across the country, I was soon in a comfortable, albeit lonely existence. New digs, new people, and new job. All stressful and at the same time, relaxing too. I never thought about Betty too much, although I did think about Sue once in a while. There had been something there, I knew it...but what it could have turned into I didn't know.

Betty's story:

Here I am, newly divorced and alone, so terribly alone. My lover of the last years has dumped me like the plague, and trying to keep from ending up divorced just like me. Once I knew that I had been caught, I had severed all ties to Sam. Too little, too late. In effect we both dropped each other, but in both cases...well, you know. 


What Goes Around...



Blindfolded and tied to the chair, he sat quietly, listening for clues as to his captor's whereabouts. His heightened anticipation was evident as his erection pressed tightly against his jeans. He was shirtless but was grateful for it because the raised welts on the flesh of his back were sensitive, the heat permeating his nerve endings. The sweat trickled slowly down his temples; his breath was even and steady. He was unafraid, but anxious. 

He heard footsteps approach him and he held his breath, preparing for the oncoming assault. It was unnerving that he could not see what was forthcoming, but at the same time, exhilarating. He slowly released the air he was holding and braced himself; for what, he was uncertain. He heard a soft chuckle and felt hot breath against his ear. It caused the goose bumps to rise on his skin. Fingertips gently and slowly flirted up his inner thigh, and came to rest on his erection. He felt a palm cup around his hardness, rubbing him, up and down. He moaned softly, unable to suppress his pleasure. 

Again, soft laughter. He felt the fingers tightly squeezing him; pleasure quickly changing to discomfort. He bit the inside of his cheek, resisting the urge to speak, certain that his opinion would not be welcomed. She said something about what a nasty fucker he was; and then he felt a violent, unexpected slap to his face; his teeth piercing the flesh of his cheek. He jerked his head to the side, and told her to go fuck herself. He pressed his tongue up against the cut and savored the salty, metal tang of his own blood. He felt her weight fall onto his lap as she straddled him, the warmth of her sex pushing against his erection. She gently put her hands on his cheeks and calmly warned him to be respectful. He nodded and she gave him a pat on the top of his head, in obvious condescension. She wrapped her legs around him, her thighs tight against his hips. 

Despite the painful reminders of her earlier punishment, he ached for her. He fantasized about freeing himself and overpowering her; stifling her smugness with his angry kisses; binding her hands; forcing her to the cold floor; and then ramming his hard cock into her; desperate protests from her escalating his own desire. He imagined her fighting him as he held her down, kicking him and bucking against his cock, but being no match for his strength. He wanted to fuck her until her rage turned to passion, until she begged him for release; until her soul was exposed. 

He moaned as she rubbed her cunt against his erection, his jeans moistened by her juices. His arms yanked hard against the restraints as he tested them for a weak point. She sharply pulled in her breath and he sensed that his struggling fuelled her arousal. She rested her head on his shoulder. He could smell the perfumed scent of her hair as it gently tickled his chin. He felt her breath and lips warm the flesh on his neck as her panting increased and the pressure against his cock intensified. In spite of everything, he wanted her to cum, hard. 

He felt her nails score the flesh on his back as her passion grew into a full blown orgasm. She moaned and pushed her mound hard against him, savoring the sensation that coursed through her body. He felt his own orgasm building and was certain that within seconds he would cum right along with her. As if sensing the rise of his pleasure, she suddenly pulled herself away from him. He groaned his objection as his bliss quickly receded. She told him that he was being a selfish prick and then slapped his face again. He called her a fucking bitch and she laughed and kissed him, irate, forceful and raw. He felt her teeth pull on his lip and the heat of his arousal surged through his body once again. She told him that he disappointed her and that he needed to try harder to be polite. She tightly wove her fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck and pulled hard, enforcing her will. 

He resisted the urge to growl in protest. Instead, he fantasized about her in his position, her eyes blindfolded, her hands tied behind her, his fingers entwined in her hair and forcing her to satisfy his need. He thought about shoving his cock into her mouth, deep into the back of her throat, her gagging against his size. He would fuck her mouth hard until he ejaculated, his hot cum spilling into her. Although he thoroughly enjoyed the torture she put him through, the sadistic cunt still deserved it.

His aching arms brought him back to reality. He realized suddenly that she was loosening his blindfold and pulling it away from his face. His eyes protested against the light as he waited for them to adjust. She was behind him, whispering in his ear. She told him that now that she was satisfied she was going to let him loose but he would have to promise her that he would stay seated until she left the room. He nodded in agreement, saying nothing. She sweetly kissed the top of his head as she pulled the knots free. The loosened ropes fell away and puddled on the floor beside the chair. 

Now the hands, he begged silently, holding his breath. He did not move a muscle. She unclasped the buckles on his wrist restraints and pulled them off him. He dropped his hands to his sides enjoying the warm achiness in his biceps. She walked around the chair and crouched in front of him, her skirt rising, deliberately exposing her pussy. She reached down and unbuckled the restraints that secured his ankles to the legs of the chair. The moment he was free from the last restraint he quickly rose and pushed the chair backwards. Alarmed and caught off guard, it was effortless for him to capture her...



What Goes Around



"How long you been playing pool?" The hot redhead asked. He couldn't remember her name since he was more than a little enthralled with her deep cleavage. 

"At lease eighteen years, Ma'am." Trace tipped his glass of whiskey to his lips while giving her fine ass a once over. He wasn't subtle about her perusal of her body. 

"Do you like what you see?" She asked. Fuck, she was smug. She knew she was pure sex in a tight fitting extremely little black dress. However, Trace was just as smug, and even downright cocky. 

"The bulge in my pants says I do." Trace reached down and adjusted himself crassly. The guys around them all cheered at his crude statement and gesture. The redhead smiled, but it was a calculated smile. She felt she had Trace where she wanted him, and maybe she did, but he didn't like feeling as if he was being played. 

"Hmm perhaps we could make a little wager on a game?" She gestured toward the pool table. Her icy blue eyes met Trace's through the smoky haze over the table. She stroked her hand up and down the pool stick in the most distracting way. 

Trace took another long draw of whiskey and let it slowly roll down his throat before he answered. "You want to play against me?" 

"Why yes Sir, if you think you can handle a little lady such as myself." She blinked with mock innocence. Trace suspected this woman had not been remotely innocent for a very long time. She was all dirty sex, and he wanted to bury his hard cock deep in her soaking pussy. 

"How daring are you, Red?" Trace was trying to keep his wits about him. He knew he would win a game of pool against the redheaded stranger, but he felt there was something he was missing here. Something important. 

"Anything goes." Her eyes narrowed. No more batting eyelashes. She was all business now. 

Trace raised his eyebrows. Staring at her. They both seemed to forget everyone else around them. The bar noises did not penetrate the space between them. "Anything?" 

The redhead with long hair the colour of fire, placed her pool stick on the table. She leaned forward allowing her generous cleavage to show even more. Trace's throat went a little dry. "Anything." She said. 

A whole lot of seriously filthy images came to Trace's mind. Disgusting things he wanted to do to this redhead. He smiled slowly. The sounds of the bar permeated again and he remembered they were being watched by many of his friends. "Why don't you join me in a booth, and we can discuss the terms of our wager?" 

"Sure." The redhead smiled at the other men before she spun on an extremely high spiked heel. She walked off without looking back and made her way to a booth at the far end of the dark hazy bar. Trace followed, enjoying the view of her ass under the sinfully tight dress. 

Trace sat opposite the redhead. "What's your name?" 

"You can call me Mia." She didn't smile. 

Trace enjoyed her creamy cleavage up close. "Mia it is then." She didn't ask him his name. She knew it. She had heard his friends say it several times. 

"So, a wager." Mia was all business. Trace felt hot needy desire roll in his belly. 

"I am not a nice man, Mia." Trace placed his drink on the table a little harder than necessary. He was intoxicated but still very much in control of himself. 

"That's okay. I am not a nice woman, Trace." Her eyes glitter almost with a cruel glint. A lesser man would have been frightened of an aggressive woman such as Mia, but Trace found the challenge she posed to be enticing. 

"Well then, what do you want from me should I lose?" He smiled. He felt like a jungle cat sizing up prey. 

"I want your ass." Mia said simply. 

"My ass?" Trace asked. What the hell did that mean exactly? 

Mia nodded. She kept eye contact. "Yes Trace. I want your ass." 

A waitress saddled up to the table and removed Trace's now empty glass, and Mia's empty beer bottle. She immediately replaced both with a full ones, before just as quickly leaving the table. Neither Mia nor Trace said thank you or even broke eye contact long enough to look at the waitress. 

"What do you want to do with my ass?" Trace asked. There was no hint of discomfort. He wasn't going to lose. 

"I want to put on a big strap-on and fuck you in your tight virgin ass." Her words were dirty. She was dirty. Trace felt his heart rate kick up a notch. 

"You're a filthy bitch, aren't you?" He sat back, suddenly his well worn jean jacket felt too warm and constricting. 

"Yes." She didn't disagree with his assessment.

Mia sat back too. Her nipples were rock hard and her tight dress did nothing to hide them. Trace felt his cock stir. Damn, but she intrigued him. She had a small tattoo on her shoulder, but he couldn't quite figure out what it was. Trace resisted the urge to shrug out of his jacket. He sipped his whiskey instead. 

"How do you know my ass is virgin?" 

Mia snorted. "Call it a hunch. Maybe more of an educated guess." 

Trace nodded. She wasn't wrong. "What do I get?"

"Whatever you damn well please." Mia's eyes hardened. She was dead serious. 

"Anything?" Trace asked. His mind was racing. 

"Anything." Mia agreed. 

Trace pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the breast pocket of his jean jacket. He lit up using a match and took a long slow first drag. When he released the smoke he didn't care if it went in her face, and it did. Mia didn't care either. She kept her icy blue eyes trained on his face, watchful for any nuisance she might see there.  

"Explain your terms first." Trace demanded. 

"You will come back to my place. You will obey my commands, and ultimately you will be a good boy and let me use my strap-on to fuck that tight ass of yours. It is really very simple, Trace. Quit dicking me around and name what you want should you by chance win!" 

Mia was tough. Trace swallowed hard. What she wanted both repulsed him and intrigued him. The nice part was he knew he could make this bet with no worry of actually losing. So, all he had to do was decide what he wanted, because it was a sure bet he was going to get it. 

"Well, let's keep it even, shall we?" 

"Anything, Trace. Just fucking name it already." 

"When I win I want your ass. I am going to bend you over the hood of my Challenger and fuck your tight little asshole in the parking lot. I want your tits out and pressed to the paint on the hood of my car. I want you grunting like a dirty little bitch as I push deep into your tight asshole." Trace was crude. 

"That's it?" Mia was cocky. 

"No condom. I'm clean and I want to cum in your ass." Trace added as he smiled a dirty smile. 

Mia didn't flinch. "Deal. I win, I fuck your ass. You win, you fuck my ass and cum inside me, in the parking lot." She lifted her hand and put it out between them over the table for a handshake. 

"Are you clean?" He asked before extending his hand as well. 

"Yes, I am." 

Trace looked at the feminine hand offered. It was small and slender. Her nails were nice and not too long. Painted as black as night. She wore a jingly bracelet of black hearts. He took her hand and shook it. Her skin was soft, dry and warm. Her grip was firm. 

***

It was clearly an unfair advantage. Every single time Mia bent over the table her curvaceous ass was impossible to ignore. Every fucking dick in the bar was hard for her. Worse than her perfect ass, was the equally perfect creamy expanse of tits that could be seen spilling over the barely legally low neckline of her dress. Trace had to deal with two sticks - the pool cue and his rock hard cock. He tried his damndest not to look, but every single time she saddled up to the table for her turn, all eyes were on her including his. 

She smiled at him after every turn. Her smile could only be described as feral. This was the kind of woman that should come with a warning. The temperature in the bar became hellish for Trace as Mia sunk ball after ball into the pockets. She didn't make many mistakes in her game. Trace's game was tight too, but he was actually starting to worry. Now he shrugged out of his jean jacket, and ordered another whiskey on the rocks. 

"Looking good, Trace." This came from Tina. Tina was what he and his friends had affectionately called a bar bunny. She was there every Friday and Saturday night of every weekend, and left with a different man just about each night. She was all red lipstick, perfume and long lacquered red nails. He had never taken a turn on Tina, and never would. It was no secret Trace could have just about any woman he wanted, but his women had to be a challenge or he didn't want them. Likely this was why Mia had so quickly gotten under his skin. Trace didn't look at Tina, but nodded in acknowledgement. 

It was Trace's turn and Mia stepped back from the table. He was technically winning at the moment, but not by much. They were well match opponents. He couldn't help but notice her nipples were hard again and he could feel all the men enjoyed looking at her as well. The air in the bar was somehow more charged; thicker. 

Mia's face was flushed and she seemed to be breathing faster. Trace watched as she parted her pretty cupid's bow shaped lips and brought her beer bottle to them. She kept her eyes locked on his as she took a long draw on the bottle. He watched her throat as she swallowed. That's when Trace realized that Mia wasn't just merely having fun, she was genuinely turned on. This was foreplay for the mysterious woman. 

Trace stretched and rolled his shoulders. He was stalling. They were still neck and neck. The game could go either way. His muscles felt tight. He took a drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke up in front of his face. He watched her through it. Mia didn't flinch from his stare. She didn't scare away at all. Trace both liked this and hated it. He placed his cigarette back on the ashtray to leave is smoldering. 

Slowly he stepped up to the table and examined it while chalking the tip of his cue. He still stared at Mia and she winked. Trace's heart tripped in his chest. This woman was some piece of work. Men didn't even step up to him like this woman had. Pulling his eyes from her, he examined the table. He picked his shot and moved to position himself. He bent and lined up his cue. 

A woman whistled. It was likely Tina or another bar bunny. He didn't look. Trace's looks were well appreciated. His well worn jeans fit him perfectly. They sat low on his hips. He was tall, slim but well defined with a nice chest, stomach and arms. He wasn't a pretty boy exactly. His skin had an olive complexion from his Portuguese ancestors. He was tattooed across his chest and down his arms. He had a few scars from fights when he was younger, but he knew they actually made him more interesting to look at rather than detract. His black hair was too long, but he liked it that way. 

"Are you going to take that shot, or are you waiting for a miracle?" This taunt came from Mia. They hadn't spoke at all since the game had started. Actually, that wasn't entirely true, Trace realized. The game had started as soon as Mia had approached him. 

Trace didn't respond. He called his shot. "3-ball corner pocket." It wasn't a clear shot, so Trace knew he had to make a fancy move. He needed to bank the cue ball off the table's rail cushion to make it bounce around Mia's balls and hit the 3-ball and send it to the corner pocket. This would be tricky for a beginner, but wasn't tricky for Trace. He sunk his 3-ball just as he had called. His friends cheered. Mia remained silent, as Trace straightened and moved back from the table. 

The game went on. The tension between he and Mia grew. The bar was hot and there was a distinct lack of oxygen. Trace felt his heart hammering. He couldn't lose, but as the game continued he realized it was a very real possibility. Mysterious Mia was good, actually she was better than good. They both were, but Trace grudgingly had to acknowledge that she was just as damn good as he. Trace felt his muscles were tight. Mia was starting to show some signs of tension too. Trace could tell there was more at play for them both. He didn't want to be fucked in the ass by this woman, but that wasn't actually the main reason he didn't want to lose to this woman. 

Quite simply he wanted to win, just to win. Not even for the prize. Somehow he felt his pride was on the line. When that had happened he had no idea, but he suspected that had actually been Mia's goal from the start. "Let's take a ten minute break?" He suggested with a calculated friendly smile. 

Mia eyed him. She was sizing him up not for the first time. "Fine." she said at length. 

They both put their pool cues down. Everyone around them remained fairly still and watchful. Now, everyone could sense the undercurrents. They were completed transfixed with the game playing out before them. Trace slowly walked around the table. He looked from Mia to the table. Mia did the same moving away from him but circling the table just the same. They both worked out the rest of the game in their own heads. Neither dared to leave the table. They didn't trust each other or anyone else around them. 

Mia changed directions and circled toward Trace. She came between him and the table. She wasn't shy nor subtle as she came to stand directly in front of him and pressed her ass firmly to the crotch of his jeans. A few male spectators grunted. Mia bent forward slightly. Trace became instantly rock hard. He knew she could feel it, and he knew when she moved away others would see his arousal through his jeans. He didn't give a shit. 

"Will you be able to handle it?" Without so much of a hint of discretion Trace leaned over her body and ground his hips hard against her firm round ass. Reaching down he placed his hands on her outer thighs and slid them slowly up and stopped just under the hem of her short dress. He could have easily flipped the material up and exposed her ass to himself and everyone else. He felt her body quiver. He could smell her scent. She wore a seductive perfume but he could also smell her arousal. Trace almost got the impression she was daring him to expose her. 

He stepped back. His cock was ridged and bulging. 

"Now, there's a stick I would like to play with." Said a female spectator with a snort. 

Mia stood and rounded to face Trace. Her cheeks were flushed a pretty shade of pink. Her eyes were dark and elusive. She breathed fast, and was clearly highly turned on. Trace was too. He felt the space around them go black. It was tunnel vision and all he could see was the sexy redheaded Mia and the pool table behind her. All he wanted to do was bend her over it and fuck her. They were both players in a very intimate dance. 

Mia stepped right up to Trace. She was shorter, but came toe to toe with him. Before Trace even realized what she intended she reached up and wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled him down to her. She immediately pushed her mouth to his and kissed him with a white hot passion he had never experienced before. He kissed back. Their kiss was raw and white hot. Her other hand went between them and caressed his cock roughly through his jeans. Trace took her face and held her so she could not step back from them. He took from her lips to match what she was taking from him. 

When they finally stepped back there was an audible collective deep breath taken by them both and echoed by the crowd watching them. The room came back to Trace, and felt on verge of orgy. The sexual tension between himself and Mia seemed to have the entire bar on alert and highly aroused. 

"I can handle it, Trace. Can you handle me?" Mia whispered. Trace could barely hear her over the roar in his own ears. 

"I bet your cunt is soaked." He responded. 

She smiled that feral smile. "Let's finish this." 

"Let's." He nodded. 

The game played on. The tension grew and the room vibrated and thrummed with it. The air was thick and hot. Trace felt a trickle of sweat run down his back. He took his cue stick and stepped to the table. This was it. It was a tricky shot. One he had made many times. However, if he missed he lost. Or, more accurately, Mia won. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath as he decided his play and took his stance. Mia moved in closer to watch, but Trace didn't dare actually look at her. Not a sound as he drew the pool cue back. Thrusting it forward the chalked tip hit the cue ball but not exactly as he had intended. 

Trace held his breath. 

The bar erupted with noise and cheer all around Trace. The sound was almost deafening after the silence. Trace dropped his pool cue onto the table and locked eyes with Mia. 

"I win." She mouthed. She didn't smile. She didn't cheer with the others. She didn't even sneer. Trace took his whiskey and downed it. So she did, he thought. So she did. 

***

Trace didn't know how Mia had come to the bar, but she was leaving with him in his Dodge Challenger. He knew he shouldn't be driving. He didn't feel drunk but was definitely above the legal limit. Normally, he wouldn't have drove, but tonight his mind was clouded. This woman was fearless and she was making it impossible for him to think straight. Trace couldn't decide if that was hot as hell or reckless. 

She had wasted no time rounding the table and taking his hand. He had had only enough time to grab his jacket before she had tugged him along behind her and out of the bar. He hated having lost the game to her. His pride smarted a bit at the loss, but otherwise he didn't much care what his friends thought about his exit. He was leaving with the hot redhead with the big creamy tits. Maybe things were not going to play out quiet the way he hoped his friends were assuming, but they'd never know. 

Cold dread roiled in his stomach. He didn't want to obey this woman or anyone. He wasn't the type of man to obey anyone. He also didn't want to take her fake cock in his ass. The very idea made him flinch. 

"Are you getting cold feet, Trace?" 

He grunted. "No." He never backed out on a bet. If Trace had nothing else, his word was solid. If he made a bet, he honoured it. Normally he didn't lose though. 

"Didn't expect a girl to beat you at your game?" Mia taunted. 

Trace ignored her as he revved the engine. "Where am I going?" 

Mia allowed him to ignore her taunt and gave him directions. His first instinct was to drive fast, but instead he drove slow and cautiously. The roads were empty. He made his way to her place in just over ten minutes. He parked in the driveway behind a red Mustang. The house was in darkness, but appeared to be a pretty average bungalow. There was nothing about it that made it stand out from the others on the street. He parked the car, got out and followed Mia. 

They didn't speak as she unlocked her front door. Trace silently prayed there wasn't a husband or boyfriend waiting inside. Wouldn't be the first time that had happened to him. He smiled sardonically to himself in the darkness. They entered the house and closed the door behind them; Trace turned the deadbolt. Mia didn't turn on any lights. Trace reached for her and attempted to pull her body against his. 

With surprising agility, she ducked his hands and spun on him. The room was so dark, but he could just imagine the evil glint that would be in her eyes. "You don't get to touch me unless I say so. Do you understand me?" Her voice was hard. 

"Whatever, Babes." Trace tried to play this off. He was not submissive. He had never taken any orders from a woman. 

"Not whatever!" She all but shouted. 

She moved so fast that Trace didn't see it coming. Suddenly he was pinned to her door with her knee between his legs and uncomfortably pressed against his balls.  

"Okay! Okay Mia! Damn....truce. I will be good." 

He could overpower her, but not without likely hurting her. He didn't want to hurt her. He would never hurt a woman, well, not intentionally anyway. She was strong though, he had to give her that. This mysterious redhead was full of surprises. And in fitting with that she kissed him while she still had her knee painfully pressed into his balls. The kiss took his breath away and left him feeling somewhat weak. Fuck, but she turned him on. Even with the threat hanging over his head of her reaming his asshole with a rubber cock. 




What Goes Around



"Stay here." She ordered. Then she was gone. He heard her moving through her house, but she still didn't turn on any lights. The only light that came into the dark house was street lights through the curtains, but since they were closed it was an minimal amount of light. Trace stayed where she left him. He could hear her presumably in the kitchen. He could hear the distinct sound of a bottle and glasses. As she returned to him, he realized he could have left, but he hadn't. 

"Follow me." She said. He could barely see her, but followed. 

She lead him toward the back of the house. They went into a pitch dark bedroom. He stopped inside the door, unable to see. He could hear her move. She knew this room well and didn't bump into anything. She put the items from the kitchen down with small thuds. Then she moved deeper into the room. Trace remained rooted near the door waiting for Mia to turn on a light. When she did it was in ensuite bathroom and it just illuminated her room enough that he could make out the furniture. It left Mia cast in shadows. 

She didn't speak as she kept moving. She lit some candles around the room. Trace breathed deeply. The room smelled like her perfume. The bed was neatly made. The bedroom was distinctly feminine even in the low light. 

"Take off your clothes." She stopped and faced him. "Now." She barked when he hesitated. 

Trace wasn't shy, but he balked at the order. None-the-less he stripped. Once he was fully naked he stood proudly and let his big thick cock stand proud in front of him. Mia made a sound. He wasn't sure if it was mocking or approval. Maybe it was both. 

"Stay." She ordered. Trace felt a muscle in his cheek flex. This woman drove him mad. 

She disappeared into the well lit bathroom, but didn't close the door. After a minute, she turned off the light in there too, but he could see from the soft flicker that she had lit candles in there as well. "Come in here." She called out. 

Trace joined her in the small bathroom. She was undressing. He stood in the doorway and watched her slowly peel herself out of her tight dress. He reached for his cock and stroked it as he watched her expose inch after inch of her creamy pale skin. She had a smattering of freckles over her shoulders. The tattoo at her shoulder was still hard to make out. She wasn't shy as she pulled the material off. Her full round breasts bounced before him. Her pink nipples were hard peaks. His eyes lazily traveled down her flat stomach and then lower. She was clean shaven. Not even a strip of what he imagined would be red pubic hair. Trace was pretty certain she was a natural redhead. She turned away from him and started the shower. Trace grunted at the sight of her bent over the side of the tub. Her ass was perfect, and it should have been his, he thought. 

They showered together. He didn't touch her, as per her instructions. His cock remained hard and throbbing the entire time. His hands itched to touch her. His body screamed at him to take her; to fuck her. He was a man of his honour though. He played by her rules. He watched as she washed her own body. Watched her soapy hands move over her breasts and down her stomach. He watched as she reached between her own legs with that hand and caressed herself. He bit his lip painfully and kept his hands to himself when she moaned as her fingers slid over her own clit. 

This filthy woman, was like no other woman he had ever encountered. This woman, had pushed him out of his comfort zone like no other woman ever had. This woman, Trace realized, actually had the ability to humble him like he never believed possible. What was far more scary than that realization, was the realization that she likely knew all this too. 

Trace washed his own body, but when Mia was done with hers she turned to him. "Turn away from me and bend over. Brace yourself against the tiles." 

A shot of panic spiked through Trace's gut, but he did as he was told. He felt far more exposed than he ever had. Big tough Trace Westford, bent like some sissy bitch against tiles in a strange woman's showers. Having lost at his game. The very game his uncle had taught him and he had spent hours perfecting. Now, if all went according to Mia's plan, before the night was over he would be fucked up his virgin asshole by her strap-on. Trace barely suppressed a sound of dismay. 

A delicate soapy hand wrapped itself around his still rock hard cock. She stroked him with long firm strokes. Trace grunted in appreciation. 

"You're a dirty slut." Mia said. Trace didn't respond. No one spoke to him like this ever. He spoke to women like this himself.

Mia roughly caressed and washed his balls. Once again he grunted but this time with a mixture of pleasure and discomfort. 

"I think you want my fake cock, you pretty little bitch!" Mia's voice was both cool with indifference but thick with arousal. Once again, Trace did not respond. He was no one's pretty little bitch, and yet he didn't protest. A point not lost on him. Breathing deeply he held his position. 

The same delicate soapy hand moved between the crack of his ass. She washed him there running her finger firmly around his puckered asshole. Trace's breathing became heavy. He was an odd mixture of repelled by what she was doing, and drawn to it all at the same time. 

"Slutty little bitch is going to take a thick fake cock, right here." To make her point she pressed the tip of a finger into his opening back there. Trace clenched his teeth but forced himself to keep breathing, albeit very heavily. The intrusive finger pushed a little deeper. "Okay, shower time is done."

Mia pulled her finger from Trace's ass and turned away from him to turn off the water. He didn't move at first as the reality of the entire situation came crashing down on him. This smoking hot redheaded stranger was truly about to make him into her bitch. Worse yet, he may have lost a bet but he was still a willing participant it what was going to happen. 

They didn't talk or touch as they dried their bodies. That was when he finally determined her tattoo to be a small colourful pray mantis. He swallowed thickly. The female pray mantis was known for eating the make pray mantis after mating. 

He followed her naked into the bedroom. He stood behind her and watched her sexy little ass in the candle light as she pulled the bedcovers off the bed. Trace could hear his heartbeat in his ears. He wanted this woman so fucking bad, but it was going to be her that had him. Somehow, that was slowly becoming okay with him. 

He had had fully expected her to demand he get onto the bed on his hands and knees. Which is exactly what he would have demanded of any slut he took to his bed. He preferred doggy style since he didn't much care for looking them in the eye while using their bodies. He knew he was a prick, but it wasn't like they didn't have a good time. He made sure they all felt good. Instead of demanding he assume the position, she got on the bed instead and assumed the position of down on all fours. Trace's night was beginning to take a turn of the even better. He smiled knowingly to himself. Mia was a bitch in heat, and needed to be fucked by a real man. Her tough as nails game was over. She wanted it. Trace went to move toward her, while stroking his cock. He made the decision to fuck her pussy before taking her little asshole, hard. 

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" She asked. Her voice was dead cold. "I never said you could move. I never gave you any instructions. Don't fucking move!" 

He froze on the spot and stopped stroking himself. Perhaps, he had miscalculated he decided. He didn't respond, knowing she didn't want him to. He stood and watched as she pressed her face to the bed with her delicious ass up in the air. She reached between her legs and began rubbing her pussy. Even in the dim lighting of the flickering candles he could see she was getting very wet, very fast. 

"Get on the bed behind me and eat me out, but make sure to eat out my ass as well. Got it?" 

Trace felt compelled to do as he was told by a simple force of arousal like he had never felt before. He had had countless women do this to him. He delighted in having them eat out his ass and lick and suck his cock and balls from behind. He really got off on having dead sexy women be so eager to get behind him and eat out his ass. Now he felt more than eager to do this to Mia. He set about his task with an urgency he had not felt in a long time. He climbed onto her bed behind her and buried his nose in her ass crack and his tongue in her wet cunt. Like a starving man, he at that pussy leaving Mia panting. 

He knew she was close to orgasm as turned his attention to her tight pink pucker. His mouth watered to taste her there. He dove in hungrily licking her entire crack before circling her asshole with his stiff tongue. Using his big hands he spread her ass cheeks and pushed his stiff tongue as deeply into her asshole as he could get it. She moaned and writhed in front of him. He simply couldn't fucking get enough of the taste of her. Her body intoxicated him. As he continued to eat her there, he reached between her legs and rubbed her swollen clit. Bucking hard she came almost instantly. 

As soon as her orgasm subsided Mia was off the bed. She moved so fast it left Trace a bit lightheaded. He sat down and watched her. She went to the dresser and poured two shots of what looked to be more whiskey. Breathing heavily she brought them back to the bed and handed him one. They both tossed them back. She poured a second, third and fourth round. Shot for shot they tossed them back. Trace was thankful for the liquid courage. He'd need it to face what he was certain Mia still intended to do to him. 

"Are you ready to be a good slutty bitch?" She asked in a sugary sweet voice, however despite her tone it was obvious she expected an answer. 

Trace resisted the urge to give a flippant smart ass answer, "Yeah." 

"Not good enough." She looked at him expectantly. 

"Yes, I am ready to be a good slutty bitch." Trace could hardly believe the words coming out of his own mouth. 

"You're going to like my cock, Trace." Taking something from her bedside table she turned toward the bathroom. "There is lube in that drawer too. I suggest you apply it to your asshole liberally." 

Her laugh was pure seductive she-devil. She closed the bathroom door, and inexplicably Trace found himself reaching for the lube. He did as she said as quickly as possible. He applied the slick cold lubricant all over his asshole and even pushed a finger in a little to put some lube there. Somehow, he did feel like a slut - a needy slut that was about to be used. Used almost precisely how he used women. The irony was not lost on him. 

Trace was laying on his side when she came out of the bathroom. A black strappy harness held what appeared to be quite a long and thick pink dong hanging in front of her. Trace swallowed thickly. She still looked sexy as hell even if the sheer size of the rubber cock made his stomach curdle with fear. He didn't want to be hurt, but he didn't want to be a sissy wimp either. He sized up her cock compared to his own, and if he was to be honest they were likely very close in size. He had fucked many woman in both the cunt and ass without mercy over the years, making them take his cock. Even several virgins. He had had no regrets then or now, so he realized he had little right to protest the size of Mia's fake cock. 

"Get on your knees you dirty slut. bring yourself over toward the side of the bed." Mia ordered. Trace complied immediately. 

"Tell me you want it!"

"I want it." He parroted back. 

"What do you want, bitch?" 

"I want your cock." Trace bit out. It was one of the hardest things he had ever had to say. He was stunned at himself for doing it. 

Mia reached for the same lube he had used and applied some to the rubber cock before moving behind Trace. He held his breath and tried to relax his body. This was it. This was really happening. His cock was hard and bobbed below him. His balls felt tight and full. He wanted to stroke it, but used his arms to brace himself instead. She pressed the cool thick rubber head against his clenching asshole. Trace's body quivered as he held his breath. 

"You're the bitch this time!" Mia almost shouted as she pressed forward and Trace felt his ass hole forcibly stretched open to accommodate Mia's cock. 

She was saying things. She was calling him dirty names, but all of her words were lost to him. At first there was a ring of fire as she stretched him so quickly and almost violently. Then as she slid into him deeply there was another sensation - one of fullness and the other of her cock pressing against a sensitive area he had never explored before. Trace felt his breath escape him at the mixture of pain and complete utter pleasure. She pushed deep without giving him even a second to adjust to the intrusion. She had no intentions of being gentle with him. She drew back the and thick head came back over the most sensitive spot inside him. 

Much to Trace's dismay his own cock began to slowly leak cum every single time she brought the cock head over that spot. Soon he found himself moaning like a woman. He felt scarcely in control. Everything she demanded he say he said back to her with conviction. She yelled at him to admit he was a sissy bitch and he did. She made him tell her how much he loved her cock, and he did. She called him a whore, a slut and a cunt - and Trace agreed with her gladly. He would say anything to keep her thrusting up his asshole. When she went deep he revelled in the fullness. When she pulled out he moaned and whimpered at the amazing sensation it made for him. 

She grabbed his hips and really began to ram into him. Truly reaming his asshole. Tears streamed down Trace's face suddenly. They weren't from pain at all. They were from the absolute pleasure that was his complete undoing. He knew he was a mess. A quivering, tear soaked, whimpering mess. He had never been more exposed and vulnerable. He was sitting right at the edge of the most intense orgasm of his life and neither of them were even touching his cock. Big bad Trace had been reduced to a sniveling, needy bitch by this woman. Worst part was, he didn't even care at this exact moment. He didn't care how he looked. He didn't care about the tears running down his face. He didn't care about the pathetic whimpering sounds he was making. 

Mia grabbed his long hair. She plowed him hard and deep. Thrusting into him again and again. His asshole was stretched to the limit, but all pain from that was gone. It was incredible to Trace. Her thighs hit hard with his swinging balls. She thrust like this several times and then without warning Trace felt his untouched throbbing cock jerk hard beneath him and unload a huge amount of cum all over the bed below him. He shot stream after stream of hot cum all over the bed sheet below him. He cried out in a very long, loud moan. 

Even before the last drop had been expelled from his cock, Mia pulled the fake cock out and shoved Trace hard down into the hot wet mess he had made. She was breathing hard. Trace didn't move. Couldn't move. He was stunned and breathing hard. That had been the single most intense experience of his life. He felt destroyed and renewed all at the same time. 

He heard Mia pulling the Velcro that held the strap-on, then hastily drop the entire thing to the floor. She moved to the top of the bed and climbed in front of him. Trace shifted enough to allow her to do so. She moved her soaked pussy in front of him and then grabbing him by the back of the head she shoved his face into her cunt. 

"Eat me until I cum, you fucking cunt!" 

Trace ate Mia's pussy like a starving man. It didn't take long to make her cum. After that, Trace simply passed out from booze, sex and exhaustion. He slept soundly in the puddle of his own cum. 

***

His head hurt even before he opened his eyes. His ass hurt too, but there was something else that didn't quite feel right in that area. Trace opened his eyes and squinted against the morning sunlight that was streaming in through the wide open curtains. It took him a second to remember where he was. When he did remember he realized gone were the soft candles. Someone moved into his view. It wasn't Mia. This girl looked similar to Mia, but maybe a bit younger and not quite as pretty. There was something familiar about her anyway.  

"Good Morning, Trace." She smiled. She was chipper. Maybe too chipper. Trace was naked and uncovered, but he didn't care. She could enjoy the view all she liked. However, he didn't want this girl. He wanted Mia. 

"Where is Mia?" He asked as she tried to sit up. He couldn't move his hands. Glancing down he saw that he was cuffed. 

"I am here." Mia stepped into view. Both girls were fully dressed. Gone was Mia's sex kitten dress, and now she wore a stylish pair of jeans and a cotton top. The other girl wore something similar. 

"Undo these please." Trace paid more attention to his body. His ass felt sore, but also stretched and full. He realized they had put a large butt plug up his ass while he was passed out. 

Mia spoke. "Do you know her?" She gestured to the other girl. 

"No." Trace mumbled while trying to decide if he liked the sensation of the plug or not. "Undo these." 

"She's my little sister. I am surprised you don't remember her. Especially since you took her virginity less than a year ago." 

Trace's eyes snapped back to the sisters. He did remember her now. "Melody!" He tried to smile sheepishly. 

Melody had wandered into the bar all bright eyed innocence. She had come on to him, but he couldn't resist a pretty redheaded virgin. Though, regretfully he had been drunk and a bit rough with her. He hadn't exactly hurt her, but he had not made any attempt to make her first time a good one either. 

"Right. Melody." Said Mia. She sounded pissed. Trace felt his stomach tighten. This was a very bad position to be in. 

"Don't be scared sissy Trace." Said Melody. The revenge is over. Mia did to you, what you did to me, and she managed to turn you into a snivelling, needy sissy. It was quite beautiful to watch. We're even now." Melody smiled happily. She clearly felt vindicated. 

Melody stepped behind her sister and Mia undid Trace's restraints. He immediately stood up, feeling even more aware of the plug in his ass. They handed him a scrap of fabric that looked like a woman's nightgown. "Here's your clothes. Get out before we call the police and tell them every possible lie we can think of." 

Trace looked at the frilly feminine nightgown being handed to him. He looked around for his jeans and jacket. Mia dropped the nightgown and his keys on the bed. "You won't find them. So, take this and get out!" she screamed. Melody giggled behind her older sister. 

Seeing few options Trace grabbed the nightgown and the keys and booked it out of the bedroom. He headed in the direction of the front of the house. His clothes, nor his shoes were anywhere to be seen. He was just thankful he had left his wallet hidden in his car. He wanted to pull the toy out of his ass but didn't dare stand still long enough to do so. Both girls followed him. Watched him and laughed at him. He paused long enough at the door only to pull the scrap of a gown on over his head. It was not long enough to even cover his cock. He had to pull it down slightly as he unlocked the deadbolt and escaped into the bright morning sunshine. He could he cackling laughter behind him as he darted for his car and jumped in hopefully before being noticed.  

As Trace drove quickly home, he could feel the big plug lodged in his ass. He was a changed man in more ways than he could even fathom. Never had anyone broken him the way Mia had. He was in love. 




What Goes Around



***Note to readers. The character of Trace does drink and drive in this story. I do not condone this behavior ever. I Hope you enjoyed the story.***



What Goes Around... Ch. 01



(This is a story in three parts, all of which have been submitted a day apart. The reason for a trilogy is that each fits into a different genre. If serial stories offend you, may I suggest waiting until all three sections are posted.)

********************

Talk about how opposites attract; a good example, I guess, would be Tina and myself. I'm Max (for Maxwell) Canney and I "live" at the opposite pole from my wife. I'm 6' 2" and she's 5'2", I'm blond and she's dark haired, I have blue eyes, Tina has dark brown eyes. I have a flat chest although nicely muscled, Tina has a great rack. You get the idea. We also have very different personalities.

I tend to be very laid back. I don't get excited easily and I tend to be rather analytical, reasoning out problems. Now Tina is just the opposite. She has a fiery core to her. She has a tendency to shoot first and ask questions later. Maybe all of that is what drew me to her in the first place. Strangely, we attended the same university, but never met. The school wasn't all that large, but I majored in marketing and Tina was getting a degree in fashion and textile design. Don't even think of asking me what that entails, I have trouble making sure I have matched socks on.

I graduated and secured a position selling commercial radio time for one of the largest stations in the tri state area. The base salary was excellent, benefits good and the commission set-up even better. Mike Cooper, the Sales Manager and Sam Able, another sales associate, took me under their wings and made sure I was well trained. I figured I had the world by the short hairs and was sailing along blissfully until the day I met Tina. I had been trying to land a chain of ladies high end clothing stores and was close to wrapping up a lucrative deal. I was about to exit their corporate headquarters and made a wrong turn on the 12th floor. I wound up in the design section and there stood Tina Wallace before a drawing board, an expression of distaste on her pretty face.

Ever the suave, debonaire roue, I smiled and approached her. "Tsk, tsk," I exclaimed softly. "A pretty face like that shouldn't have a frown on it." Yeah, yeah, I know, pretty lame. 

Tina whirled and shot me a glare that could remove paint. "Don't tell me you're actually successful with a bullshit line like that one?" she spat out.

Wow, that rocked me back on my heels. My smile turned rueful and I raised my hands to my chest, clutching my heart. "You've got me. You've discovered my dreadful secret." I hung my head in mock shame. "I've never learned how to pick up a beautiful gal. So shoot me, heap scorn upon me, but take pity on me also, please, and at least have dinner with me?" I had adopted a pleading tone. 

She laughed in spite of herself and we were off and running. Tina deigned to accept my request for a date and that was the start of a whirlwind romance. Six months later we married and Tina moved into my town house. Maybe it was too much of a whirlwind. We were both so swept along with each other that we really never stopped to consider things objectively, like the fact that we were like day and night - good expression; Tina was a night person, I was a day person. See what I mean?

Tina loved to party; the more people around the better. On weekends she demanded the bright lights, the music, the dancing, the excitement of the crowds. I went along with that demand, I was besotted with her. Even when she wanted to venture out during the week, I put up little opposition, even though that wasn't my thing. I was more a homebody. I enjoyed being home, doing odd jobs around the house, sitting and reading in front of a fire. Don't misunderstand, I wasn't an introvert, but after schmoozing with clients and varied other associated assholes during the day, I enjoyed quiet evenings and lazy weekends.

Tina and I were in love, or did I say that already. She tried to accommodate my desire for the home life and I tried to give in to her wild side as much as I could. We settled into, what I like to label, a uneasy compromise between the club scene and domesticity. Hey, it seemed to work okay. Tina seemed content and I was relatively happy. I was, I was......well, I would have been happier but for Tina's "friends." Jackie Brock and Bonnie Shore. They worked with Tina in the design section I mentioned.

They hated me and I loathed them, well make that Bonnie. I wasn't crazy about Jackie either, but she wasn't quite as venal. It didn't take long for them to convince me that all they really cared about was "having fun" and the hell with anyone or anything else. They were totally amoral. They were both single, divorced of course, relatively attractive (one blond, the other a bottle redhead) and both class A bitches. They had tried to discourage Tina from getting "involved" with me and almost spit bullets when we announced our engagement and married. Tina would always laugh them off and kept telling me that I was being unreasonable in my distaste for these "friends." 

"Look, Max. The girls took me in when I was hired and really helped me. They've been good friends and I won't turn my back on them now so get used to it," declared a determined Tina. 

I didn't answer her, just shrugged and walked away. I had a very uneasy feeling that they were going to cause major trouble, but I knew that Tina was adamant about the friendship so I tolerated them. I really had no choice, I didn't want to precipitate a showdown, maybe subconsciously I wasn't sure if I would win.

******************** 

Things started to change in our relationship about a year or so into our marriage. I think that I can pinpoint the exact day because we really had a battle royal that evening. Let's see...... it all started right after I came in the door from a difficult day on the road and then being told that I would have to fly out the next morning for a staff meeting in an adjoining state. I would be back the next day, but I was pissed. I knew that these meetings were a waste of time and took away from my time with my clients.

"Max, Max," yelled Tina from the bathroom where she was putting the final touches on her makeup. "Change into something casual. We're meeting Bonnie and Jackie and their dates at Bookie's." Bookie's was one of their favorite restaurants and watering holes. 

I walked over to the doorway, eyed Tina blotting her lipstick, and growled. "I've asked you again and again to check with me before making any plans during the week. Why do you find that so fucking difficult to remember. I can't go anywhere tonight. I'm flying out early tomorrow to Wilmington and won't be back until the next day and I'm hitting the sack early. Tell your friends to count us out."

Tina had turned to face me, her face becoming scarlet. "Since when have you become the CEO here, buster?" she snarled. "You and your fucking job, you treat it like you're the savior of the company. You're not 80 years old, but you act like it. You can go out with us and still catch your plane. Get changed, I won't wait too long. I'll just go without you."

I then lost it, completely. "Fuck you, you bitch. You treat your "friends" with more consideration than you do your husband. Have a good time, your "friends" will probably get a date for you and get you laid. You can become a slut... like your "friends." You notice the heavy emphasis on "friends". 

I then just turned on my heel and stalked away from Tina who was just standing there, trembling with rage. I strode into the bedroom, grabbed a suitcase and started to pack. It was just a small bag since I wouldn't be gone more than a day, but in the back of my mind was the image of me packing a large bag......no, make that a few large bags. Did I had some premonition of what was to come? Maybe. I heard the front door slam shut and the house was quiet.

I was so angry and upset I just couldn't see myself sleeping there that night. I finished my packing, got in my car and headed out to the Holiday Inn by the airport. I didn't want to be home when Tina staggered in at who knows what time. I just wanted a quiet and calm nights rest......yeah, like I could turn off the turmoil in my head that easily. 

I was up early the next morning and made my flight with time to spare. The hours that I spent away in the staff meetings were a total waste, as I knew they would be. To this day I cannot recall one item discussed that was meaningful and I'm sure that I contributed nothing but my presence. My head was filled with how I had left and with embarrassment and recriminations. I knew that my behavior that night was over the top and I was really sorry that Tina and I had quarreled so bitterly. I vowed that I would make it up to her when I returned.

I did return the next evening as scheduled and entered my home with a bit of trepidation, not knowing what I would find. I did indicate to you that Tina has a tendency to be a bit unpredictable. I should not have worried. Tina ran from the kitchen after I entered and threw herself at me.

"Oh, Max. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I hate it when we fight like this. You were right, I definitely should have checked with you before making any plans. I promise I'll do that in the future, Max."

"Wow," I thought. "Now this is a surprise, but a pleasant one nonetheless." My heart went out to her and I held her tight and murmured the appropriate responses. Tina then pulled back from me and I saw the glitter in her eyes. She then started to tear at my clothes almost frantically, pulling my shirt apart, buttons flying. I stood there stunned for a moment before I started helping. I was soon down to my boxers and Tina was pulling at them, causing my now very erect cock to bend into positions totally unnatural. I stopped her in time to avoid serious injury. 

I figured that now it was her turn. I yanked her blouse out of her skirt and over her head. Moments later she was as nude as I. She sank to her knees and grasped my now throbbing member, licking from base to head. I knew that I wouldn't be able to last very long so I pulled her up and carried her to the bedroom, throwing her on the bed and crawling in after her.

Tina shrieked in laughter and quickly covered me with her body. My cock was now nestled between her thighs and firmly against her warm and very wet pussy. I felt her hips move as she caressed my phallus with the lips of her vulva. She would move and the head of my dick was poised to enter her, but she would then shift and my cock would again slide between her nether lips. This didn't last long. Moments later Tina rose a bit, adjusted her hips and allowed me to slide into her. She moaned, sat up and her hips rose and fell. She paused, tensed and keened shrilly as her orgasm overtook her. Her nails dug into my shoulders and I felt the muscles of her vagina pulse around my manhood. It felt like minutes later, but was actually only seconds, Tina collapsed on top of me, and rolled over to my side.

She reached over and kissed me tenderly. Then she noticed that I had not come, in fact my very rigid penis was still pointing obscenely celingward, bobbing to its own erotic beat. "Oh, my," Tina murmured as she grasped my cock. "We've got to do something about that." 

I lay there, secretly rather pleased that I was able to control my climax. Premature ejaculation was never really a problem for me, thank goodness. Tina raised herself on an elbow and looked at me with a gleam in her eyes.

"Max, let's try something different. If you promise to be very careful and very gentle..............?" she began hesitantly.

I looked at her with a puzzled expression. "I'm always gentle with you, honey. You know that."

"I know, Max," she smiled. "But this time you have to be even more so." Tina paused for a moment and then blushed. Yeah, she actually blushed.

"Let's try anal?" she asked softly. 

I had to strain to hear her and was more than a bit surprised. We had talked about this a couple of times, but Tina had never really seemed interested. Well, this was really something new and I wondered if perhaps she was feeling a bit guilty about the spat we had had and was now trying to make up for it. In any event, I sure as hell was not going to say no.

"Honey, this could be fun and I promise that I'll be as gentle as I can. I sure don't want to hurt you in any way." I then paused. "Wait, I think that we should get some lubrication. I think that it would be painful without something we could use to make it easier." 

Tina grinned and reached over to her night stand from which she pulled a tube of KY lotion. Damn, the vixen had this all planned. This wasn't spontaneous, she had planned for a little anal tonight. I chuckled and took the tube from her hand.

I squeezed a glob on my finger and coated my cock. I then took more of the stuff on my forefinger and coated her rosebud before inserting my finger, coating her insides. I squeezed even more on my finger and made sure that she was fully lubricated, inserting two fingers now inside her anus. Tina had not made a sound, but her eyes were shut and had a small frown of discomfort on her face.

She had been lying on her stomach and I pulled at her hips gently. She immediately rose to her knees, her head burrowed into her pillow. Her asshole was laid bare, it seemed to beckon. I placed the head of my dick at her backdoor and gently began to shove. Almost before I knew it, the head of my cock had slipped past her sphincter and was inside. 

I heard Tina moan softly. "Am I hurting you?" I asked worriedly 

"It hurts, Max, just don't move right now. Just stay still and let me get used to it. I'm trying to relax, just wait a little, honey" she muttered tensely. 

I did as she asked and it wasn't long before I felt her move her hips back, allowing more of my cock to enter her. I was soon all the way in and I could feel her asshole clasping the base of my cock tightly, very tightly. I just knelt there, trying not to move, allowing her to take the lead. After a bit I felt her start to move her hips, causing my cock to slide out a bit and then back in.

"Jeez, Max. It still hurts a little, but it's kind of a good hurt. Damn, this is so nasty," she murmured. "I feel so decadent and now it's really starting to feel good, honey. Pump faster, move it in and out harder," and she really started to get into it. 

It wasn't long before she Tina started to moan loudly. "Oh, God. I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming, damn, damn, daaaaa........... 

She had clamped down on my cock and I then lost it. I plunged in as hard as I could and let my fluids burst forth from me. I thought that I would never stop. It was one of the most intense orgasms I ever had. By the time my head cleared, my dick had softened and had slipped from her behind.

"My God, Max," Tina whispered as she pulled me down and snuggled to my side. "That was fantastic. That's not the last time we do that." I nodded sleepily and we both slept, naked in each others arms.

Things quickly returned to normal and everything seemed to be as it should, yet I felt a disquietude, an uneasiness. Tina was being just a bit too voluble, a bit too animated, a bit too brittle. I paid my uneasiness little mind. 

The following days and weeks were a bit strange. Tina now seemed just a bit subdued, quieter and perhaps a bit less animated. There wasn't a dramatic change in her personality, but just enough to cause me pause. I put it down to our fight that night and figured that things would get back to normal soon enough. To tell you the truth, I just didn't want to upset the apple cart, so to speak. In fact, I didn't even comment on the fact that Tina stopped asking about going out during the week. 

She never again brought that up. What was even stranger, she didn't appear as enthusiastic about going out clubbing on the weekends, Now that brought me up short. What the hell was going on? The weekends were almost sacred to Tina; those were the days when she wanted to party. Now she seemed almost lukewarm to that. Something was going on, but I didn't have a clue as to what it was.

I learned the truth a few days later, at Tina's favorite lounge. We were there with another couple as well as, yeah, Bonnie and Jackie. The two of them were sans dates - they said they wanted to enjoy themselves without "men" around. Yeah, like I really believed that.

"Jackie, go with me to the little girls room?" Bonnie asked loudly. "Tina, you too?" she asked again, loudly. Tina shook her head and continued her conversation with Helen, the female side of the other couple. I sat and watched the two of them sashay across the room and into the corridor whick led to the rest rooms. I took this opportunity to tell Tina that I was going out for a some fresh air and would be back soon.

I stepped outside and did indeed take a deep breath of air. I slowly strolled around the side of the building, out of the glaring lights which advertised the night club. Standing in the shadows, I began to make out voices coming from an open window. The window was situated high on a wall which prevented me from seeing in, but the voices were unmistakable. I grimaced as I recognized them as belonging to Bonnie and Jackie and realized that I was outside of the ladies rest room.

"What the hell's wrong with Tina?" Bonnie asked with a bite to her voice. "She's acting different. It's almost as though I did something to piss her off, and, come to think about it, you haven't exactly been Miss Cheerful either."

"I'm feeling guilty as hell, Bonnie," replied Jackie. "About that night that she and Max had that fight - you know, when he had to fly out somewhere on business. We should have known what Johnnie was doing."

"What's the big deal, Jackie. So Tina got drunk and stoned and got laid. Johnny was in heaven, he's been after her pussy for years. She deserved a little fun after what that prick did to her," replied Bonnie dismissively. 

"Goddamnit, Bonnie. We should have protected her. We're supposed to be her friends. We should have known how devastated she would feel afterward. We shouldn't have let that happen."

"Okay, so it happened, big deal. Look, Jackie, Tina will get over it and I bet that she'll eventually look back on it and her pussy will tingle," laughed Bonnie. "Shit, I bet that prick of a husband would have a heart attack if he knew."

"But he's not going to know. He'll never know, do you understand, Bonnie?" Jackie spat out. "C'mon, let's get back."

"Wait, let me pee first." 

I had heard enough. I staggered away from that side of the building and leaned up against a tree. I remember having trouble thinking, random images were rushing together, making coherent thought impossible. I also realized that my stomach was trying to tell me something and I was able to bend over just in time. The vomit came gushing out in a torrent and I just stood there and emptied my guts. 

I slowly straightened and tried to collect myself. I knew that I had to compose myself, had to appear normal. I stood still for some moments, tying to sort out my feelings, with little success. I finally wiped my mouth and brow with a hanky and slowly reentered the club.

Tina and her girlfriends were seated at the table, the other couple had departed. Jackie and Bonnie were just looking around, obviously scouting the place for some unattached males. Tina was just sitting there, quiet and subdued. 

I walked over and spoke softly. "Tina, it's time to leave," and extended my hand. She looked up at me, saw my face and she knew. She knew that I knew. She rose without a word of complaint, forced a smile and said, "bye everyone, see you later." We left without another word being spoken. 

The drive home was quiet. We didn't speak and the tension was palpable. I knew that the coming conversation would be traumatic, but at that point I hadn't the foggiest idea as to what I was going to say or do. I was still dazed, feeling somewhat confused, not understanding why my marriage had suddenly crumbled.