4 comments/ 83587 views/ 5 favorites Biz Trip Brings Out Wife Ch. 01 By: addicted2wife The premise behind this story is true. When I emailed my wife about what I was watching she suggested I post the experience on literotica. This surprised me as I don't think this is a site she reads. My wife (whom I truly adore) and I are going through an adventure in expanding our love, intimacy, and communication both in and out of the bedroom after being together for almost 20 years. I don't know if she'll read this but if she does I hope she enjoys this story. And I hope this is the first of many to come about our evolution... -------------------------------------------- I was in Philadelphia, a place I have to go on business several times a year. My work days there go from 8 a.m. to 9 p.m. The last meeting is usually over dinner with a variety of people I have worked with for years and who are also close personal friends. The comfort of such company is a relaxing factor. And this is something I need because I so miss my 2 young children on these trips. Moreover, I miss my wife. Being able to see her, be near her, touch her, kiss her...take in her scent. I so love how she smells and tastes. Just being near her sex makes my blood boil and my mind roar. My only complaint is I don't get to "boil and roar" more often. When I arrived at the hotel I was assigned a room on the first floor with a balcony, which usually works for me as I have habitualized myself to writing out of doors at night. It doesn't matter if it is 10 degrees outside at 2 a.m. On a porch, for whatever reason, I am most comfortable and my writing tends to tear in this perceived reclusion; regardless of environmental conditions. To my dismay, however, the noise from the street in the busy downtown area made my head pound. A few weeks short of summer there was a lot of vacancy. I requested another room away from the street and the hotel was happy to oblige. After the first evening's events I arrived at my new room on the 14th floor. The room was basically the same as the first except the view and noise. Being situated in the middle of two blocks over an alley, the sounds of the city were no longer at brain damaging decibel levels. They were still full, but comforting, dampened by the narrow alleyway and being over 150 feet off street level. The view, on the other hand, was less desirable. There was another hotel directly adjacent, maybe 12 feet away. But that hotel seemed vacant as well, not a single light on. All I cared about was a little privacy and comfort. At 70 degrees, seemingly total seclusion, with the sounds of the city at a pacifying level -- it was a perfect perch to write some erotica involving my hot wife. And writing, up until this particular day, comprised the majority of my sexual evolution with my wife. She has endured a lot of trauma leaving her not just scared, but zipped up in regard to expanding into intimacy and sexuality outside of the privacy and typicality of our bedroom maneuvers. Don't get me wrong, our "average" sex is far better than any sex I've had before. And I've not only been around the block, I've constructed a few of my own. But what can I say? I'm passionate. I'm creative. And I'm so in love -- maybe even obsessed with my wife, I cannot stop my brain from reeling into profound and complex fantasies involving this woman I adore more than anything. So, since she has struggles in communicating about such things...I write and keep it to myself, hoping one day we can both share more. And just as I am settling in, now almost 10 p.m., a light comes on in the room directly across the alleyway from mine. Quite a coincidence, as no other room in the adjacent hotel seems to be occupied. At first I took no notice. There was no reason to, all the lights in my room were off and my computer was on power saver mode so the screen only illuminated about a 2 foot area. I certainly couldn't be bothering anyone. So I began writing a story about my wife pleasuring herself in front of me, not letting me touch her, only allowing me the opportunity to manipulate myself as I was forced to watch her coddle her loins with toys rubbing against and exposing her perfect little pussy - when I was distracted by something swaying across the way. When I looked up I was astonished. There was a woman in the room across...completely undressed, and gyrating. While I was disgruntled I had missed how she arrived at this state, things with her were moving fast so I didn't have much time to think about what I had missed. Judging from her movements she was listening to something of slow tempo, but also something deeply arousing, like Barry White. While I couldn't help but notice her hands' slow caress against her breasts, neck and belly as she swooned, there was something even more captivating to me. This woman looked like my wife. Not the spitting image, but she was short and well proportioned. She had large breasts with large areola and stiff nipples just like my sweet Mariah. She was also curvy as my bride, but with a little more paunch, wider and weightier below her torso. She appeared to be about 10 years younger than Mariah's actual age, but since Mariah looks 10 years younger than she is, around 30, this appearance was also a close match. As the young woman danced she turned in circles and made closer to the floor to ceiling glass door at her balcony. I lowered my computer screen leaving me in darkness except for the diluted light cast from her room. She leaned forward placing her left arm against the glass door. Then she leaned more resting her forehead against her forearm perpendicular across the glass. Now, not being able to see her face, just her female form, swaying left to right against the door, a strange transformation occurred in my mind. I saw there, as the uninvited voyeur, my wife. That was my delicious wife erotically swaying within a heavy stone's throw in front of me. And she had no idea I could see her. My cock started to twitch and...RING. RING. RING. I pressed my hand down on my crotch and picked up the cell as fast as I could, not knowing whether the girl across the alley could hear it through the glass. "This is Max" I said. There was a pause. Then I heard, "Baby, can't you see it is me calling?" It was Mariah. Oh shit, I hadn't even looked at the phone, just answered as fast as I could. "Oh, Hi honey," I stammered trying to regain my composure, "I was working on something and didn't look at the phone." "What were you working on?" she asked, Not knowing exactly what to say there was silence. "You seem distracted honey. What is going on?" Mariah questioned. I hate it when she questions me when I'm writing about sex and intimacy. We have never been in a situation where she was comfortable with me honestly sharing what I was working on -- that is to say -- what I was thinking about. I like to say I'm creative. My guess is she is more of the opinion that I'm a freak. And tonight, I almost felt this woman in the other room a savior when posed with the question. After all, it WAS what was going on, it wasn't my doing, and I wasn't pulling the strings. "Well, I was starting to write something and then this woman showed up in a room across from mine. And I don't know how to tell you this but she is naked and, um...dancing." Another long pause - this time from her end. "Did I lose you?" I asked into the phone. "Well, what does she look like?" asked Mariah ignoring my question. "She is about your height with large breasts and large nipples, like yours." As I said this, the woman across the alley moved her right hand lower, across her belly, between her legs. "She is a little bit chunky, not slender like you, but, ahem..." my voice trailed off. I could see the woman slowly stroking her folds with her fingers. Her breasts were pressed against the glass now, which must have been chilly as her nipples were erect, extending upwards at least an inch. She rubbed her chest up and down against the glass in slow motion with the sliding of her fingers between her vulva, which appeared engorged even from this distance. I was stuck, still seeing my beautiful wife in this motion, watching in silence. I have no idea how long had passed before Mariah chimed back in, "Honey, what is it that you are looking at?" I took a deep breath. I learned years ago that no matter how confrontational the subject, it is better to just tell my wife the truth. Whatever her reaction, at least I can take solace in the fact that I haven't lied and I have tried to be true to myself. "Babe, I'm not sure you want to hear about this, you are leaning against the window with the lights on, and rubbing your slit with your hand." "What do you mean, I AM rubbing myself?" She asked in an unusually hushed voice. "I'm sorry, I mean, she is. It's just the way she looks it is easy to overlay you and...I mean, fuck, sorry. I just..." And then I gasped. The woman across the way dropped to her knees and began humping the thumb side of her right wrist and forearm, sliding her slit and clit slowly and then rapidly back and forth in a sawing motion. Her head was thrown back, her hair waving with her motions, her big tits heaving up and down with each slide over her arm, her nipples extended and jutting toward the ceiling, alternately being pinched hard by her available hand. Her mouth was open and it was clear she was taking quick shallow breaths. Suddenly there was a shock of impatience on the line, "Max, tell me RIGHT NOW - WHAT AM I DOING?" I explained the sight in my mind of my incredible and gorgeous wife pleasuring herself in this way -thinking no one can see. As I did so, the woman across the way became more engrossed. She reached to the side and produced two toys, both penis shaped. At this point I was in play calling mode explaining step by step what was happening. Once I relayed her pulling out the toys I received quite another shock. Mariah said in a curt tone, "Max, take out your cock." I was so stunned I stopped looking at the woman and couldn't speak. I started to say I was outside, someone could see...when Mariah repeated, "Max, take out your big cock and watch me play. Tell me how I am pleasuring myself for you." What can I say, Mariah had never done anything like this before and at this point in my arousal it was impossible to resist. Pulling my erection from my pants I looked back across the street and told my wife what I saw...what I was watching MARIAH doing. "You are inserting a small vibrator into your pussy while sucking on a large realistic looking dildo." I almost expected for Mariah to hang up on me at this point. Instead, I heard Mariah moving and a digging sound as she asked if I was hard. I was listening to the sounds in the background trying to figure out what she was doing and didn't answer so she asked again, more insistently: "Max, is that big cock nice and hard watching this?" I answered honestly, "Only because I am watching my hot and wanting wife." And then Mariah began something I'll never forget, she became the narrator. Mariah asked excitedly, "Do you like watching me fuck my little pussy with this toy while I lick and suck your big cock?" I couldn't speak. It was uncanny as this was precisely the picture the woman across the way was portraying. There was a mixture of fear and confusion and sexual energy as my manhood swelled to its full length. In all this excitement I was distracted by wandering what the hell was going on. I was thinking, 'If I continue this, am I going to pay later?' Mariah went on. "Max, listen carefully." She began speaking slowly as if to facilitate my ability to do this, which was a particularly good idea at the time. "I have put the ear piece in the phone and I have gathered some things while we've been talking. One is our wand with the skinny blue dick and one is the realistic, large veined cock that is almost as big as yours. I am standing in front of our bay window facing the street. Every light in the room is on. I am undressed and have drawn open the blinds; anyone from the street can see me clearly." I could only clear my throat, wandering if she was making this up -- but then I heard it - the unmistakable sound of the Hitachi Wand on high speed. It is a powerhouse vibrator and never fails to get Mariah's motor running, but it is by far the loudest vibrator we own. Mariah moaned and then sighed. And then she asked playfully, "Is that cock nice and hard yet?" I was thinking about how busy our street was this time of night but responded quickly, "I am so hard for you right now I'm about to burst." She quickly chided, "Don't cum until I tell you. I would give you the dance routine but I am far too wet for that now. I need to have my holes filled and I know how you like to watch. For right now this fake cock I have next to my mouth, the one I am licking, is yours -- unlike you it is cold but I'm sure I can fix that. I can make it warm like you. Wet at the tip like I know you are right now. Do you like me licking your head clean of your oozing pre-cum? Mmmmm, because I do, mmmm, it's delicious. Do you want to paint my lips, Max?" This drew an audible moan from me. I imagined tracing her lips with my fully engorged and leaking cock. She went on, "I need to suck it, suck your perfect cock while I play with my pussy. Will you stick your cock in your little wife's mouth while you watch me fuck my tiny cunt? It is so wet I'm starting to drip on the floor," she said almost nonchalantly. I didn't know what to do. Should I keep quiet? Should I respond? What does she WANT me to do? These three questions were so familiar. They had relentlessly pounded through my brain for the entirety of our relationship. But this time, something different happened... Mariah repeated in an innocent and hushed tone, "Can your good girl please suck your cock? Please? So I can fuck my pussy for you?" I couldn't believe my ears. Was this my reserved wife actually begging me for this...over the phone? My wife, who has never so much as hinted at being willing to have a conversation like this? I wasn't going to take time to try and process this now... "Yes...uh...suck me now my like a good little wife," I responded more than a bit timidly. I was actively pulling at my swollen member now, not caring who could see, and only intermittently checking in across the alley as my eyes were closing, picturing my wife as she described herself. For a minute I listened as I could hear the wand getting louder and quieter as she pushed it in and out of herself, and her growing moans muffled by something obviously in her mouth. Then she spoke again, but I could still hear the vibrator moving in and out of her... "A car just drove by honey, and it slowed down to almost a stop in front of our house. " She was panting. I hope they didn't see me sucking you while this other cock slipped into my pussy. I'm bent over the window sill, it would be so easy for anyone to see... " I held my breath wandering who of our neighbors might have just witnessed this. I was snapped back into the moment when I heard her moans intermittently muted by subtle but distinct gagging sounds. While this was happening I went out on a limb, going with the sounds I was hearing, and encouraged her more forcefully this time. "You like this big cock fucking your mouth nice and deep while your pussy gets fucked? You like having your holes filled?" She kept moaning and I could feel my own orgasm creeping up on me. "You are such a good girl, taking these big cocks. Take them. Take them, all the way inside," I now confidently blurted. I had no idea what I was doing at this point, half scared I would shock her out of this episode. But she had told me once that when she played with toys by herself it was very different than how she played with them in front of me. And what I was describing was very different than what I had seen her do: basically tease her lips, clit, and hole with such devices - and she seemed to be responding...really responding. Her moans intensified, and I could literally hear how wet the cock was that she was sliding in and out of her mouth. I imagined it was me, pushing deep into her mouth and then retreating outside as her full lips remained open, awaiting my next thrust, my cock carrying out with it long strings of her saliva that dripped onto her chin and breasts as I continued this motion. I interjected, concentrating again on the view in front of me. "I am watching you from the dark. You have succumbed to your lust now. You are leaning back in front of the window, shoving the vibrator in and out of your pussy as fast and far as you can. Your head is tilted back, your mouth open wide, and your other hand is guiding the long, thick dick deep into your throat with slow strokes." There was a pause and I heard a quick succession of throaty grunts on the line. A long slurping sound followed and then she said, "Max...Oh Max, I am cuming on the cock you are watching fuck your little wife's pussy and I need you to cum in my mouth. NOW MAX, cum in my mouth NOW!" And I heard the sounds of her engulfing the dick shaped dildo in her mouth once again, the mic on the phone piece banging against plastic pubis. "That's it, that's my perfect little wife," I said stroking myself madly at this point. "Here it is, here is what you want. I see you right now kneeling in front of me, both holes completely filled. You are grunting and rocking, trying to get the cocks in even deeper. You are shaking, trembling; your legs can hardly hold you..." Mariah started groaning and saying "Oh shit, oh shit, oh fuck, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" This was perfect: these are exclamations she makes when thrust to the next level, usually reserved for long hard intercourse between the two of us when she achieves a string of intense multiple orgasms. "I'm cuming in your mouth right now, as you asked, my sweet wife. You may suck my cream out of this big cock as you've requested!" I think I might have been shouting as I blew stream after stream into the air in front of me, as she emanated long, excited moans. Some splattered on the balcony but the rest flew through the railing into the dirty alley almost 200 feet below. I was silent but heard Mariah out of breath and huffing on the line. Then I heard the blinds close and her collapse on our marital bed. "Honey, are you OK?" I asked. "Yes," she replied, "better than OK. I can't believe I just did that." I confessed to her I have no idea where that came from but it was fantastic. I have one more night here and maybe this girl will show up again. "Shall I call you if she does?" "Absolutely," said Mariah, "one way or another, she will show up tomorrow, the better to see me with." I didn't know what she meant, and so much new had just happened I left it at that. "I love you," I said, as we hung up for the night. I looked up spent, preparing to drag my gear inside, and there was the girl, now on her balcony smoking a cigarette, looking right at me. She was still nude, leaning over the railing with her heavy breasts hanging down. She grinned at me as I gathered my things and went inside. "Thanks for the show," I said as I prepared to close my door. "Thanks for watching, I hope you got something out of it" she replied. "Oh I did, and so did my wife. See you tomorrow?" I asked. "Maybe," she answered. (to be continued...) Biz Trip Brings Out Wife Ch. 02 I was surprised to hear my wife read Ch. 1 leaving her feeling "sexy, loved, and cherished." Nervously I asked if she had any requests for the next chapter; if she wanted me to "tone down" what happened. She said I should do this my way, "to let it rip." She said my worry was a waste of time. We'll soon see... ***** If you've not read Chapter 1 of this series, it is worth the endeavor to learn of my wife's coming out while I was out of town. If nothing else, what transpires over the coming chapters will make more sense... The next day my work sessions started at 8 a.m. sharp. I hardly slept, finally jerking off to the events of the prior evening around 3 a.m. in an attempt to pacify myself. And while I slept a little after that, 7 a.m. couldn't come fast enough for me. I had one thing in mind: get through this day and back to the balcony. Outside of waiting for my kids to be delivered, this was the longest day of my life. I was constantly distracted not only by what happened last night, but fantasizing about what could happen tonight. Would the girl show? Would my wife want to be involved again? I couldn't get the memory of my wife sounding so wanton, so hungry for me, out of my head. Would she be ashamed or even mad at me for this? It wouldn't be the first time she resented something sexual with me afterward. But, she did practically beg me over the phone to fuck her mouth so she could describe herself taking another cock in her pussy - the tiniest, tightest, most delicious and perfect love chamber I have ever experienced. This was an enormous, actually unbelievable, step for her to take. And because of these conflicting thoughts I was worthless the entire day - half worrying, half fantasizing. Several of my colleagues approached me asking if I was OK. They were genuinely concerned. Those in the know were aware that my wife and I had problems, and that those problems frequently escalated in the past when I was out of town on these business trips. Trying to salve their concern proved difficult. I found myself explaining everything was fine, but I would probably be leaving the last meeting early. And, God as my witness I tried, but I couldn't keep a Cheshire grin off my face when explaining this. The good news was my close friends could see something good was going on for me. The bad news was with an explanation like that, they were probably thinking I had something going on the side. And in a way....I guess I did. But I just couldn't get into the events of the previous night, even with one of my closest friends. This was personal between me and my wife. And I wasn't about to risk the chance of negating something like this happening in the future if somehow she found out I had shared what happened. But mixed with that fear were a few things Mariah had told me the night before. First, it sounded as if someone driving by could have seen her if her description of the slowing car was accurate. If this were the case, she'd already outed herself. So maybe I shouldn't be so worried about telling my friends about something amazing that happened. Be that as it may I decided to adhere to the adage: "when in doubt, don't." The second thing was at the end of our conversation Mariah told me, "one way or another, she will show up tomorrow, the better to see me with." I tried to think of what that could possibly mean. How could she know the other woman would show? She couldn't possibly know that, so what is this "better to see me with," stuff? All I knew was, I needed to find out, and this day was taking a year. Finally, after the last speaker I excused myself a bit early, at 8:30 p.m. As I said my goodbyes I could see several of my colleagues speaking to one another under chin. It was hard not to imagine they had concluded I was off to see a woman. They were right, just in the wrong context. But there was no way I was going to take time to explain it then. Little did I know I too was soon to face an unexpected context, one I would want explained sooner rather than later. In retrospect, I should have paid more attention to the implications of what happened the night before. The way she described what she was doing. The way she encouraged me to picture her, watch her. The fact she actually displayed herself while doing this. If nothing else, that she had enjoined in this type of fantasy with me should have tipped me off more than the obvious was afoot. I didn't heed the clear recollection that any type of fantasy sharing in the past tended to shut her down. Going from that to this, well, I should have realized she had started a new chapter in her life; an intense and unpredictable chapter. A chapter, as I would begin to find out, of surprises. And I now realize perhaps a moment of consideration of this fact: "not all surprises are good;" warranted contemplation after the events of the prior evening. Blinded to this, I ran back to my hotel and engaged in what my wife has chastised me for in the past: over preparing. But tonight was different, I was preparing only for myself, to make tonight as enjoyable and fulfilling as possible, and if my preparations were unnecessary, so be it. I put on a tight fitting bikini brief. I like small briefs. I have something of a package and the way they constantly hug my cock and balls is a turn on. If not too distracted by work or other obligations, these things keep me in a semi-erect state most of the time. I like that, and what it makes me think about when thinking about the perfectly crafted body that is my wife's. These fantasies hit hardest, so to speak, at work. I have a custom stand up desk which hits me at pelvis height when I lean into it. A few feet in front of me on the walls are wedding pictures from over 10 years ago. I can't help notice my enticing little Mariah is even sexier now than she was then. There is one picture with her sided by her mom and dad. She is perfectly quaffed and made up, in her wedding gown, with bright red accentuating her full lips. Her expression almost devious, mouth curled at each end without actually smiling, oblivious to her parents on either side. I should feel guilty her parents are right there watching, as I imagine her crouching underneath the table top, engulfing my swollen cock as I pretend to focus on the market on my computer screen. Other times I picture her leaning back on the large cushioned bar seat I have in my office...lifting her dress, exposing the fact she is not wearing panties, her mound just before cleanly shaved – pulling my face to her delicacy. I run my tongue deliberately and thoroughly over and aside her lips and clit. And then push in her opening as far as I can go, spreading her lips with my fingers. Just long enough to ensure she is fully wet. My pants lowered only enough to expose my engorgement; I open her surgically with it in slow motion. Speeding up, knowing this will have to go fast during work hours, I lower my muscular body over her to keep her seated while punching into that tiny cunt harder and faster with each stroke. Pressing my hand down hard to cover her mouth - muting her increasing moans forecasting her impending orgasm – knowing no one else in the office dare hear what the boss is "up" to. Other times I imagine turning her over and positioning her right knee on the soft stool, and the other spread wide a few inches higher on the desk. Her perfect pussy and ass pushed up, her tits hanging down, still held by the dress. I step up behind and relieve her of the shoulder straps. Her heavy breasts hang down, soon swinging in time with my thrusts - she is perched high and exposed, but solidly locked in position with one hand clasping the stool back, and the other firmly planted in front of her knee on the desk. She is rocking with me, biting her bottom lip, trying to contain emanation. But as I push in harder and faster, she reverses her motion, meeting my every thrust. I reach around with both hands and message her breasts as they swing back and forth. As her legs begin to cinch, I grab her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. I begin to pinch harder, pulling her swaying tits with light pressure in the opposite direction of my thrusting. Now that she is warmed up and aching to be filled, these stronger attentions come at a perfect time. As she gasps I can tell she wants release, and I pull straight down, hard on her engorged nipples, almost pulling her breasts away from her chest as I silently deliver quick methodical blows deep into her now dripping slit. I can tell I am pushing into her cervix with each thrust, but she is so close to climax she is overcome and whispers to me to fuck her harder. I hold her previously pendulous breasts in this position, her own thrusting creating movement against her body now. I increase tempo and deliver more penetrating thrusts into her. She is growling. Mariah is trying so hard not to scream out, as I push her over the edge of an abyss she wanted to avoid with others about. And just then I lean over, to inform her casually I am now going to overflow this pussy with my mess... and she will have to hurry to the car so no one can see my cum running down her legs... Mmmm. Yes, I like this underwear. Back to Philadelphia... Once dressed, or better said undressed, in the briefs and an unbuttoned dress shirt left on from the day, I went to the balcony and positioned my laptop on a small table kitty cornered to the young woman's deck across the way. This left me with an unobstructed view of anything to take place in her room. By now it was 9:00 p.m. And unfortunately there was no sign of anyone present across the alley's expanse. The shades were drawn, no lights were on. 'Drat. What to do?' I thought to myself. I quickly formulated a plan. I would call my wife and pretend the young woman was there, running through the events of the previous evening but changing them up a bit. 'Who cares?' I thought. 'I'll just make it up as I go along.' The point is me and Mariah, and how we are fantasizing about each other. This unknown girl has nothing to do with it. ' I waited about 10 minutes to gather my strength, courage, and best acting ability, so I could call my lusty bride and, well...start lying. When she answered the phone I began to talk about the woman I was "watching" but Mariah was curt and interrupted. "Hey, something is going on right now and I can't talk." I heard something in the background. It was faint but sounded like a male voice, I couldn't make out much else, but the tone, timbre and wording were tempered and slow. The voice sounded calming but instructional – matter of fact. "Mariah, who is there?" I asked. I did not like the way this was going so far. "We have a little problem and there is something I have set up right now. I'll shoot you an email in about an hour. I've got to go... but I love you," she said, emphasizing the word 'you,' and hanging up. Maybe you'd have to be me, or maybe not, to imagine the things going through my mind at that point. Our marriage had been rocky. We were supposed to be communicating via phone intimately tonight. I thought if nothing else the, 'one way or another she'll show,' comment had at least cemented that. And now I'm sitting alone on a balcony in bikini briefs with a diminishing hard on wandering who the hell was at my house with my wife! I called home immediately without answer. I didn't bother to leave a message and called right back. As the phone was ringing the second time I received an email: "I told you I would email in an hour. I will. Just remember I am devoted to YOU." I was frantic now. I had been through these thoughts many times before: 'What was she doing? Who was she doing it with? And what the fuck was that last part supposed to mean?!?!?' I emailed back within seconds, "WTF is going on?!?!?!?" No reply. I called again. The phone had been unplugged and went directly to voice mail. I said earlier my day at work took a year. The next hour; a millennia. And throughout this time I was frozen. I was glued to the screen, actually thankful that the woman next door had not shown up. I couldn't have lifted my head if she were shooting golf balls from her twat hitting me in the face. And finally, a few minutes after 10 p.m., I received an email: "Max, I am so sorry. Please know that I love you and only you. But last night my actions created a problem for our family. I have confessed that while I was on the phone with you, you had nothing to do with what I did, that while you didn't resist you never asked me to do anything I was doing. Our family is in a real bind here and there is only one way out. We have to follow the instructions below. I don't see another choice. No matter what happens remember I love you. I have been instructed to insert the following here:" At this point I swallowed hard and stopped reading . I looked across the alley at the darkened room, a pit growing in my gut – tonight wasn't going to be like last night. I knew, deep down I didn't want to see the rest. But there was no way I could stop myself. It was all I had to try to figure out what was going on. The email continued: "Max. I saw your hot little wife playing with herself driving last night. I parked down the road and took my vid cam into your front yard. It was real dark and I made it right up to the bedroom window and she didn't even notice. Boy she sure seemed distracted, ya know? I now have a great little movie with sound, as your wife's calling out rung through the cracked window next to her, perfect fit for the mic in case you ever need know sicko. I thought Mariah was innocent and cold and probably frigid. Hah. Not the first time I've been wrong. With the headset on and her enthusiasm and the way she came, gagging herself on that fake dick...well I was actually a little surprised to find out she was on the phone with you given she is obviously an exhibitionist slut. I figured she were talking to someone more exciting than you. I'm glad it turned out to be you though. Really really glad. Anyways mariah's pervert display is just not what I think is appropriate in such a nice neighborhood. And very against the law also. So all the sudden I got a big moral dilemma here. By legality and all, I have turn over my video to the authorities, with a formal complaint signed by everyone in the neighborhood. But then I would have to show it to them so they knew what they were complaining about. Knowing some of the sickos around her I guess some would refuse to sign a complaint over this. But given how smoking hot Mariah is, and the things she was doing, nobody in this neighborhood would refuse to view the whole thing, even the bible thumpers. Hell, I bet most would want to watch it more than once! I bet I could make a pretty penny just selling copies. And that's even before the internet action. I call this Plan A. But Plan A would ruin the reputation of your whole family that is liked around here. You would have go somewhere else and start all over, maybe even change your name, or at least your little cock hungry wife would. I respect Mariah but good god lordy man I have been hard as a rock the last 24 hours. Too bad you were just listening but this girl knows how to take it! You really should see it! So if I show this I uphold the law and probably protect some minors from being scarred for life by whatever you two dream up next. And maybe I can even make some money along the way. But it would destroy you guys. Some of the God fearing Christians in the neighborhood probably try to get your kids away from you perverts. And you guys don't deserve that. I don't think like those prudes and would hate to see that happen. This morning, after giving your wife a good fucking in my head I figured even if you didn't know you were doing it you shared your wife with me last night. And hearing what Mariah was saying you obviously like to watch. So the way I see it, you let me watch, I figure I should return the favor and then we'll be all square. And nobody needs to be the wiser. That sounds logical enough right? So here's the deal You're about to get an invitation to meeting in your email. Mariahs gonna be asking how you are getting on and permission for a thing or two. Your muted so type your answers in the comment bar. You don't have to come in here or answer or can complain. But if you do, I that will take that as you refusing to my fair offer to fix this. At that point I will get out of here and pursue Plan A. Invite is coming. If you have not entered the web room in 5 minutes I will leave, allowing you two to do whatever on your last night as a respected family around here. Respectfully, Nobody P.S. I have made Mariah promise not to tell you or nobody who I am. If she does I am going back to Plan A, so don't ever even ask." As I finished the letter I was enraged and terrified at the same time. The response was fight or flight and I immediately puked over the railing of the balcony. I thought about calling the police or friends to go save her. But quickly realized that would just expedite Plan A. My heart was pounding and brain racing, but I didn't have long to go down that road. A webinar invitation hit my inbox just when I realized I had to piss so bad I felt I would burst. I had been drinking juice and waiting on the balcony almost 2 hours. I leapt up, thinking about trying to race to the bathroom, but I only had 5 minutes. I leaned against the railing, between the skinny posts almost 12 inches apart, released my now flaccid member and let go. It was so dark in the alley I couldn't see if anyone was below, not that I had time to care. This probably only took 2 minutes but it couldn't go fast enough...I had to get into that web conference and see what the fuck was going on. When the page loaded the first thing I noticed was a text entry at the top right: "Welcome Max, thanks for joining us, Mariah." I felt as if I would be sick again, but then I noticed the image on the screen. The view was dark but clear enough to see it was our bedroom. The strung red chili pepper lights we use when making love the only source of illumination. But I could see they had been moved closer to the camera. And from the camera position, a bright light shone clearly illuminating the surrounding area. I surmised there was a computer in our room, probably hosting the conference site, with a camera embedded in or attached to the screen. On the bottom of my computer screen I could see the lip of my wife's chest of drawers. I was obviously looking at a camera view perched on the back of her dresser, but something was very different. From the straight on view of the camera angle I could tell the dresser had been moved. It had been drug across the floor in front of and against our bedroom door. In this position the long, high mirror attached to the back of the dresser would prohibit anyone from entering or leaving the room, even if the door had been left open. 'What the fuck is this?' shot through my head, a scowl blazoned on my face. It would be difficult for Mariah to move the dresser out of the way. She was trapped with this maniac in our bedroom! But given our predicament and her seeming agreement to go along, why would it be necessary to rearrange our bedroom furniture? I could hear over the speakers the faint sound again. Even with the sound turned all the way up what little I could make out was an unintelligible male voice. It was steady and sounded kind of like chanting. "Oh my god," I thought. "How can I stop this?" I didn't have much time to consider. Mariah stepped into view. She was striking. Completely naked, her perfect breasts full and large. Her nipples were hard as if they had been pinched and pulled. Her hair was tied up and she was wearing heavy makeup, as if preparing to go out on the town and seduce with her sexuality. To top it off, her divine lips painted a deep ruby red. Biz Trip Brings Out Wife Ch. 02 My heart was literally in my throat. My pulse rushed and sweat began pouring off me. I had no idea what to do when Mariah bent forward toward the camera. She got so close all I could see was her face and her tits hanging down, her nipples dropping just out of view – then she spoke up, "Hi Max. " There was obviously a microphone just in front of her as her voice rang so loud against the muted background noise I had to turn the volume almost all the way down. There was a short pause and she looked to her right and nodded. She continued, "Max, I know you didn't ask me to do what I did last night but you didn't exactly stop me either, even when I told you someone could see me. So really, I'm not solely to blame here." Fucking shit I was so pissed off at this. There is some guy blackmailing me and her in return for a piece of her ass and she is accusing me and asking me to just play along?!?! After about 30 seconds she said, " You are supposed to be responding here so could you type something back, maybe something that won't make things worse? Please, Max, please write something." So I typed, "Hi Mariah." She read the screen, looked to her right again, and then stood, took a step back and lowered her arms to her side. "Do I look pretty, Max?" she went on. "I want to look as hot for YOU as I can. Did you notice I shaved my little pussy for you?" Honestly, with all that was going on I hadn't. But as she stood there in the red light, I couldn't help but see her uncovered passion point, glimmering slightly...was she already wet? And oh, her perfectly shaped body. Everything just right, perfectly proportioned - a walking wet dream. Imagining someone to the side looking on made me ill, but I took some comfort in seeing she was still wearing her wedding rings. "Max, I need for you to tell me and the...ahem, gentleman, if I look sexy." Oh God, regardless of what was going on, she looked so sexy. Without thinking I typed, "You are the hottest thing I've ever seen, please be with me, and only with me." I watched her read the screen and she appeared saddened. She looked off again. I couldn't hear what was said, only her response still looking off camera, "Well how would you feel if you were him?!" she said almost angrily. A moment passed, she nodded again, and looked back into the camera. "Max, sweetie, he understands your position and is going to let that one slide, but from now on try to limit yourself to affirmative reactions. This is going to happen, honey. I...we have no choice. I know you like to watch so just try to go with that, I'll make it up to you when you get home." She cleared her throat and pouted into the camera, "He says I look like a lonely MILF that needs some attention. He wants to know if you agree." I was furious, unwittingly and forcibly cuckolded by some unidentified man, and now my wife was chiming in with him, calling herself a slut and awaiting my approval. Fine. If that's how she wants to play this, what else can I do but play along - my alternatives being what they were. I typed, "Actually dear, you do look like a MILF on the hunt. And you clearly want what is happening there. So why not? Show the guy how much you love to suck and fuck cock. How's that for your answer?!?!" I guess I expected to get a shocked look from my wife from this response. Instead, a slow grin crossed her face and she looked off to the side again. But this time, she wasn't looking up to the right, somewhat down, near the top of the top of the chest. Her grin got wider. "Apparently, baby, that was the right answer," she said as I watched my wife turn to her right and crouch down, moving slightly off screen. Aside from the features in our bedroom all I could see was the profile of her face in the bottom left corner of my screen, her chin just above the top of the chest. I watched her open her mouth, looking up with her big hazel-green eyes. She nodded again and redoubled her efforts, opening her mouth as wide as possible. And then I saw it. It was only a glimpse but the bulbous head of a cock passed through her lips. She glanced at the camera and screen and pushed forward slightly. I could only see her lips and cheeks as she started dipping her mouth on an off the cock. I saw only a close up profile of her face as it began to be intruded. Her cheeks began to puff out. I could see her bobbing her head forwards and backwards. She started to moan. After a minute of this she pulled her head back. I saw nothing of the cock as this guy was just off camera, as if the stage were perfectly marked so I could never see any of him. Mariah nodded again and leaned into the mic. Drool was running from the corner of her mouth and her eyes looked glazed over. She said blankly, "He says you have to tell him to gag me with this big cock. You have to ask him to fuck my mouth." She just stared at the screen after saying this, again opening her mouth wide enough for me to see her tonsils. There are really no words to describe what I was feeling at this point. The violation had begun. There was nothing I could do but either try to make it passed this or risk the lifestyle of everyone in my family. And I couldn't help but see longing and lust, maybe even control in Mariah's eyes as her face, now with lipstick smeared around her mouth, was pressed close to the camera lens. I didn't respond. Mariah closed her mouth and then popped the question, "Max, are you hard, honey? Seeing me use my mouth like this? Knowing you have to tell this guy to give my little mouth a good fucking?" This time she didn't even watch for a reaction, she turned her head again and stared up, bobbing back and forth, clearly taking this foreigners dick as far down as she could by her own accord. She drew back with more saliva running down her chin – not bothering to look at the camera or ask anything else, simply stating, "He wants me to play with my little clit while I blow him..." And then she went back to it. I noticed her shoulder drop but that was all I could see of what she was doing. But by her reaction I could tell she was complying, and complying well. She was grunting and heaving forward now - and then it happened, she started to orgasm. Her eyes widened and she started making gulping noises as I watched her shudder with climax. As her shaking decreased and she began to relax - suddenly her eyes widened full, and I had a feeling the intruder was returning the favor. She moved forward completely off camera for about 10 seconds, and when she reappeared, thick white cream was running from the corners of her mouth, dripping off her chin onto her chest. She raised up momentarily, and I could see her chest and tits were already covered with what looked like a cup full of semen. She smiled broadly and covered her mouth holding back a laugh. The world started spinning. I almost fell sideways out of my chair into the railing on the balcony. And then I noticed it. My cock was solid, as hard as it had ever been in my life. The thought of my, until now, prudish trophy wife being used as a toy by someone I couldn't identify had me excited. In this confusion my anger and illness diminished. And then I remembered, lamenting those two, the only two instances before when I shared a fantasy with her over the years. ---------------------------------------- The first was a story I'd written, more accurately said stolen from this site 5 years ago. I basically just inserted our names in the text. In the scene Mariah was throwing a party, insisting she be in charge – tired of being a homemaker uninvolved in our life decisions. She invited rough sorts of blue collar men and loose sorts of women I did not know. She erotically danced the night away with other men, sequestering herself and locking the door to our bedroom with a few, leaving me no alternative but to listen to the escapades from outside. Eventually I was completely cuckolded. Finding her tied up in the basement being gang fucked by two guys. One was pounding at her pussy furiously. The only thing that kept her from crying out her obvious pleasure was the other man. He was dirty and impatient, his coveralls pushed down to his knees, conquering my wife's mouth muffling what looked to be further encouragement from her. In the story, I was then forced to make them all breakfast when they were done. After reading this, her only response was (sounding a little irritated), "why do I always end up with a cock in my mouth?" I was so confused by this, because she rarely gave me oral and I had never shared a fantasy, any fantasy before. Knowing she had a past, but without knowing what that past entailed - with no point of reference as to what she was getting at - I got scared of making things worse and I said nothing. We never spoke of it again. And the second time, the last time, perhaps 3 years ago now, I told her of a fantasy of us at a vacant pool, where another man showed up and approached via the water in a speedo. As he emerged it was obvious he had a HUGE cock. She asked if she could touch it and, in the fantasy, I told her if she touched it, it would wind up in her mouth. And if that happened it would wind up between her legs. She assured me it was much too big for her pussy, but in the end this is exactly what happened. The guy was clearly experienced in working on tight pussies, and that is what he did. At least in this fantasy I was with her and involved. But I was so nervous in recounting this story my entire body was shaking, and I was sweating profusely. This time though her reaction was positive. She started sucking me as I described the scene and we wound up having good sex as I described the 10 inch cock almost splitting her in two, slowly at first, but eventually pummeling her tiny hole as she relented and begged for more. I was so stupid. At the time my wife and I hardly ever had sex, and when we did she was usually mad at me afterward. It got to the point the only way she would be intimate with me was if I agreed to do chores or errands for her. I quite literally had to pay her for sex. I felt she hated me. She was disgusted by me. I was desperate to the point of absurd action. I thought maybe things would be better if she knew I would let her be in control and would basically leave the door open for anything she wanted. For me to beg her, pay her. Encourage her to fantasize about other people, maybe even let her fuck other people if that's what it took to tolerate being with me. The actual result: It drove her further away. Looking back on this now, I can imagine what she must have thought. Sharing those things unexplained is one of my biggest regrets in our relationship, and now it was playing out before me... These unfinished thoughts took longer than I was aware, when Mariah asked again more urgently, "Max are you there, is your cock nice and hard for me?" With everything in my mind at that point, I was in a complete state of shock. I didn't know what else to do, but answer honestly as I could as long as it was affirmative, as instructed. I hurriedly typed back, "Yes, I'm sorry... I am hard, but I have to use the john, I'll be right back. Is that OK?" Mariah looked off again, nodded, and then looked back with eyes wide, not bothering to wipe the cum from her face. "You have 3 minutes, hurry." I didn't need to use the john. I just needed a moment to try to start breathing again. To get through these thoughts and try figure out how I could possibly be erect in this situation. I stood and leaned against the railing, looking across the expanse to the room across the way, still dark. For the first time I noticed the sliding glass door to the balcony was open about 6 inches – but still no sign of the young woman. My thoughts shifted back to these things I had shared with Mariah. So ill thought up and brought out – without any communication about why I was sharing these things. I didn't want her to be with another, to have sex with other men. I wanted her to love me, to want to be with me. I focused on taking long deep breaths. 'No wander this was happening.' I thought. 'This is my fault, set up clumsily and completely misguided. She must think I want this. She knows I like to watch her and these are the ridiculous examples I have provided in the past. Oh God.' As my mind raced through this I looked back at the screen and noticed one peculiar thing. Apparently Mariah hadn't moved. She was still directly in front of the camera. She was not checking off to the right. She was not nodding. No conversation of any kind I could observe. Obviously, I was thrilled not to see her fucking whoever this guy was, but her absence of movement or communication left me confused. My 3 minutes were up so I typed "I'm back and still hard. Is that what your friend wants me to say?" She read this and then looked off again – then back. "He says it is time for me to move." Mariah disappeared momentarily and then I saw a precious sight. She leaned over her counter directly in front of the camera. She was perpendicular in the shot and I could see from her chin down to just shy of the crest of her bare pussy – again her position marked as if by a mastermind bent on concealing every aspect of himself while still forcing me to watch the ravishment of my sweet and, until now, innocent wife. Her big tits hung down center screen. Her nipples, hard as diamonds, pointed down touching the dresser counter. With disbelief I stared at the screen watching the mass of milky cum all over her tits. Bent forward like this, it started to run down her breasts and drip off the ends of her nipples in small dollops. She pulled back slightly so I could see her face. She looked behind her and then back. There was a pause...and then she reached back with her left arm, mostly blocked from view by her body. "Max, you have to tell me to put his cock in me, baby. I know this is hard, but just imagine, imagine it is you standing behind me...I have my hand on your nice rig, tell me what to do with it. Please, I need your cock so bad..." she trailed off, looking down. I couldn't tell if her expression was sad, expectant, or dissociative. She bit her bottom lip. She glanced up to see no response from me. She spoke again, "Max, tell me what you want. Tell me you want to watch me fuck this big cock. It's OK, Max. It's OK this is turning you on. Trust me. Just tell me what you want baby..." My mind sprinted back to the fantasies I shared, realizing, without knowing my intent, this is exactly what they sounded like, that I wanted to see her not just be fucked, but used by other men. That I wanted to be cuckolded in the process, left to enjoy only whatever was shared of her, or whatever was left afterward. And once realizing this, other tumultuous times in our relationship hit me. Times already let go of, superlatively beneficial as I didn't have time to get into them now. But as I watched her I couldn't help it. She looked so fucking sexy. No matter how wrong she might be about my meaning, I was completely fixated on her image. Her smooth skin and slightly rounded belly. Her strong right arm holding her up just enough her luscious breasts hung - extended nipples dancing across the surface top while the mass of cum covering her yielded to gravity. As it collected at her nipples, it began to drip, and then run as slightly melted butter, off onto the dresser top. This sensation served to make her areola contract harder, her nipples protruding even further, now dragging across, slipping through the lubricating secretions left by her lover. Her large eyes, open wide. Her mouth smeared with lipstick and more cum. Her heavy mascara running her cheeks, likely spawned by watering eyes subsequent to forcing her mouth down on that cock before. The cock that covered her with the quantity an elephant might. Seeing her like that, the intimidation, fear, and fury of what was actually happening was now all but gone. All I could see was the sexiest woman on the planet, accidentally set up by me to be in this position. And in my mind I shifted, as I did the night before, to imagining she was lost in lust, while I observed. What could I do? What were my choices? I was failing and falling, now thinking of seeing her penetrated from this angle, something I couldn't do if I was actually behind her. My cock was so hard and my balls so swollen I had to remove the briefs, the restriction now painful. I had not forgotten the predicament, the offer, and the only viable solution in this moment. And this moment was all I had, maybe the only thing I would ever have left with Mariah. (the conclusion, the twist of a lifetime, to follow...) Biz Trip Brings Out Wife Ch. 03-04 I appreciate some were disappointed with my last chapter, but most comments were off in regard to where this goes. I split the second day into 3 chapters -- maybe that was a mistake. Needless to say, there is pretty much no point in reading this without reading the previous chapters. ************** CHAPTER 3 Yesterday I worried what Mariah's reaction would be to me after encouraging her to take on the fake dicks at her disposal. Today, without warning or intent, I was put in a position "requiring" I encourage her to take the real thing from someone living in our neighborhood. Someone she had apparently sworn to protect. Thoughts rushed through my mind: 'How screwed can I get? Can this possibly be my fucking fault from a few unexplained stories?! She clearly wants this and seems to think I do as well. I'm such an asshole. She is such an asshole!' But I was starting to feel there was more to this than the emailed threat and what was on my computer screen. I could see Mariah almost involuntarily pushing backwards. She was going to get fucked tonight; she was making sure of that. Now she was proceeding sans my permission or input, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. She looked into the camera with those beautiful round eyes, the eyes I could never see enough of. She smiled broadly with the same Cheshire grin I'd held all day. "Max, you need this as much as I do!" 'What the fuck are you talking about?!' I thought. 'I need to watch you suck and fuck an idiot as much as you need to do it to him!?!?' The change in me wasn't just mental. I wasn't hard anymore. Even though she was still so beautiful, somehow in this sloppy mess, the shock of everything that was happening was wearing off and the reality started poking through. My wife was wantonly fucking another man in our bedroom. At that moment I decided she was indeed going to get fucked that night, in more ways than one if I had anything to do with it. My brain started to turn around how I could ensure that. She looked straight ahead with pursed lips, her left hand obviously guiding the meat just off screen into her pussy. "Ohhhh," she said. She kept looking forward again biting her lip. "It's is too big," she continued. There was a pause as she looked back -- and then she said clearly, "What? No, I can't ask him that." Suddenly I saw her body thrust forward. Her face pushed beyond the screen and her exquisite ass obscuring the view of whoever was inside her. She leaned back, delicately, and muttered as she did so, "Ok. Ok. OOOOOHHHHHH.....K." She took a beat and furthered, "Max, you have to tell me to fuck this monster. To shove my little pussy back on it until it is in my womb. He is just making me be dirty now Max, but you like when I'm dirty, don't you?" she purred. Minutes before I was actually thinking maybe I should keep chiming in, trying to get this over with - or maybe, since I had an erection before, this actually was something I wanted to happen. But that last bit, that question on the end, that wasn't from some guy. That was my wife trying to get me to enjoin this sick, degrading, and disrespectful scene. Mariah was prompting me to beg for my own torture. She wasn't acting at all like someone blackmailed. As I thought back, I realized she hadn't been all evening. She couldn't talk, she needed to set something up, she needed to email me later, she needed, she needed, SHE needed. And on the rare occasion she protested she quickly caved, performing in as sultry a way possible regardless of the supposed circumstances of extortion and out and out rape. Yeah, I was hard for awhile, and confused as to why. Did I want something like this? Fuck no. But she had convinced me this is all I had for the moment, and to comply affirmatively "to protect our family." But that wasn't what got me excited. I got hard because she is so fucking hot. Whenever I see her I get hard, it is automatic. And I embrace her almost daily in this state, wanting her to feel how she excites me even when fruition will not occur. But whatever this was, it was not hot. I began to feel ill again. But my mind was clearing enough to see things were not as they appeared - that Mariah was complicit in this. My fear over protecting our family did not dissipate. But if I was truly to do that, another tack would have to be taken. Unwilling to go along with this any longer I ran inside and put my pants on. I grabbed my voice recorder and placed it next to the speaker on my computer after hastily returning to the balcony. I thought for a second and then typed, "Push your tight little fuck hole down on that cock. Squeeze him with your tiny cunt. Make him tell you to fuck him harder," hoping I might get lucky enough for him to say something loud enough for me to capture if he was thinking I was into this. To cover my bases I said into the recorder what I was writing and the reason for it. And for my own sense of wanting to lash out at my wife, I added, "Show him what a dirty slut you really are!" Seeing this she wasted not a moment, as if I had annihilated any inhibition she had about getting fucked by him, or anyone else for that matter. She said, "That's a good boy Max, I know you want to see me being split in two by this horse cock." 'Horse cock?' I pondered. She hadn't been told to say that and she has never said anything like that before. I didn't respond. She would soon be allowed all the horse cock she wanted. I almost hoped for her, as everyone in our neighborhood was married, the guy's wife would be more understanding than I. But on second thought, I hoped the opposite: that my now unleashed tramp wife would be left empty and wanting for years to come. If more computer savvy perhaps I could have figured out how to record this whole thing. What I did know how to do was capture screen shots and so I began. Images of my wife - bent at the waist, smeared makeup and bathed in cum like an overused whore, arguably doing all the work in this web fuckathon. She slowly but intently pushed backwards again. Her ass and vortex of her hidden pussy disappeared off screen, but I could see something penetrating her deeply, distending her lower belly. She groaned and slid forward. I took several shots as this occurred and typed sarcastically, "Well honey, if you're going to fuck the big cock, fuck it hard and fast." No longer affixed to the screen I caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye from across the alley. I examined as well as I could through the dark, unsure as to what had caught my eye. I still couldn't see any sign of the woman. But given what I was being forced to endure, my desire to go home to my wife all but gone, it occurred to me if she ever showed to ask if she wanted company. When I looked back Mariah was partly following my suggestion, pounding herself against whoever was there, her stroke deliberate but still slow. Finally she pushed back hard and stayed there. Her mouth was open but her eyes clamped shut. She let out an extenuated, "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh GOD!" With this she began in earnest, quickly humping back and forth. I could see her juices spraying out as she jerked forward, leaving rivulets of her wetness on the front edge of the dresser top. She was clearly in ecstasy. Her tits now pressed down, smearing the stranger's cum into the grain of her dresser. I minimized the window already having at least 3 dozen shots of her moral ineptitude. I looked again at the email, saved it to my hard drive, and copied and pasted the text into an email to my attorney with the preface "Will explain tomorrow." Just before I hit the send button I heard Mariah speak again and pulled her screen back up. She was looking into the camera and exclaimed, "Max, you have to tell him to cum inside me. You have to tell him to fill my little pussy with his cum so he can get me pregnant!" She gasped as she said this, sitting back even harder than before so that only her tits and face were left on screen. I have rarely seen her so turned on -- and this threw me into nothing short of rage. I couldn't believe I had even considered being compliant to these criminals before, let alone chipped in any encouragement. I was now the yang to her yin. 'Is she telling me she wants to have another man's child?' raced through my head. Even my fingers shook with fury when trying to figure how to respond to what she just said. "Fucking bitc/" was all I typed before Mariah began crying out in orgasm. Her thrusts stalled and her body shook. Her hand slipped off the now thoroughly lubricated dresser nearly dumping her in the floor. She caught herself and rose off the counter. Her breasts and tight nipples freshly soaked in his batter, dripping in unison onto the floor. I captured more screen shots. Her face, I think without her even knowing, looked towards the camera once more. Her eyes were rolled back in her head, her mouth hanging open. "Cuuummmmmm, Max -- pleeaaaaaaassseeee...Cum with me Max!!... soooo goooood....sooooo fuuuuucking big.....Aaaahhhhhhhhhhhh..." Cum? Cum? She actually thinks fucking someone else in our house, the fucking house I pay for, is going to get me off??!? I heard a laugh come out of me just as a tear ran down my cheek. I couldn't look back at the screen. I cried out, "Oh no, oh no, no no no no no..." burying my face in my hands. Then Mariah spoke again, regaining her breath, "Max, you OK baby?" I looked up; she was leaning in front of the computer with a concerned expression. "No," was all I could force myself to send in the text box after deleting "Fucking bitc," considering that could be used to show me abusive if I sent it and my entries were being recorded. "What's wrong?" she asked back. "Are you fucking kidding?" I responded. "Try this on for what's wrong. I need one minute to SPELL it out for you so stand there and wait." She looked mortified as she read my comment. She started to say something and I muted my computer. Her lips continued to move as I shot off, "Now you're the one muted so you may as well close your used mouth, it certainly needs a break by now." She sulked but became silent. I wrote briefly but thoroughly enough: "You obviously were in on this entire thing. You are an adulteress and I have multiple screen shots of you fucking your pea brained partner in our bedroom along with audio of all the bullshit you were screaming out. Tell your moron boyfriend that right next to a speaker, as he so eloquently advised, 'is a perfect fit for the mic in case you ever need know sicko.' I have already composed an email to my attorney containing what the two of you wrote, which explicitly details both your efforts to extort me, threaten the well being of me and our kids, commit adultery with my forced permission, and cuckold me in the process. I will be delivering the screen shots and audio to my attorney first thing after I land tomorrow. The only people that will be losing their reputation are you and your fucked up boyfriend. And I won't need the bible thumpers to get our kids away from you, or his from him. By the way, I call this, Plan B. Sincerely, Somebody, somebody you shouldn't have fucked with P.S. Lucky for you he has a big dick, because he has shit for brains." I couldn't help grinning broadly as horror crossed her face while reading this. She screamed into the screen, "MAX, NO! You don't understand!!" She started scurrying around the room clearly flustered - trying to cover her body with her arms and hands -- darting back and forth not knowing where she was trying to go, but eventually making her way off screen. The camera angle didn't change which I thought weird. The dumbass should be fleeing about now, and the only way out without me seeing him would be to move the dresser. She reappeared wiping the cum and make up off with a towel, "Give me a minute, please Max, don't go anywhere, just give me one minute," she begged holding up her index finger. "You don't understand...please one minute...I'm getting the phone..." she continued pleading as she disappeared from the screen once more. Having my case wrapped up and nothing better to do, I waited. Even though my life and my love just exploded in front of my eyes, I actually had a moment of serenity, hearing again the dampened noises of the busy city. Realizing all my senses had narrowed entirely to the device just in front of me for hours now. It is amazing how severe stress creates tunnel vision and tunnel - everything else. How your brain can focus its entire effort on something no bigger than a face, or a word on a page. I had lived parts of my life like that with Mariah -- and I smiled in this brief and somehow peaceful respite, knowing no matter what I wasn't going back to that. When she returned she had the phone in hand, apparently plugged back in. She was talking to someone and I quickly pumped the volume up on the computer catching only, "...when he gets up...thanks again," before she hung up. 'Who the hell was she talking too,' I almost spoke aloud. The storm in my mind picked up again. 'Had she actually taken our kids to a sitter for this? Well well well, that about destroys any possibility she wasn't conspiring with this guy all along!' Mariah looked into the screen and started dialing. My cell rang and what calm remained after that thought evaporated instantaneously when I answered. I was angry, intensely and broadly; at the neighbor, at her, at me for my contribution to this idiotic outcome -- my mind hop scotching, not knowing where to begin... But first things being what they were, I demanded to know who was with her and why the hell she was making a thank you call after what just happened. This night was getting more deranged by the second. *********************** Chapter 4 As I began going off calling her every name I could think of, some more than once, she kept repeating, "Max, just listen for a minute..." until I finally calmed enough to stop and hear her. Mariah said, "Max, wasn't that what you wanted? To watch somebody else fuck me, to use me however he wanted?" "NO!" I screamed into the phone. "Never! I know it's my fault you might think that but that is never what I wanted!" After a brief pause I said grinding my teeth, "You don't understand, you won't understand...you never wanted or cared enough to understand anything about me." As I finished I whimpered out loud. My anger momentarily replaced with self loathing and a complete collapse of my ego. I sobbed. On the screen that big grin reappeared and she said, "Baby, maybe you're right, but maybe not. You want to know who I was with? Well here he is..." I froze and leaned into the screen beginning to search for whoever was with her. Mariah reached toward the camera and turned it in the direction she had made her glances earlier, the direction from which she was giving herself to another. As she did an image of a sizable dildo came into view, the kind with a suction cup at the base. It was firmly affixed to the wall, only a few feet away from the camera. It looked completely realistic. I had no idea where this came from as I was the only one that ever bought toys for her. "Mariah, what the hell is going on?" I asked urgently. "The guy brought a dildo?" Mariah laughed, "You still don't get it? Baby, there isn't anyone else here. I bought the fake cock, and a few other things I needed to pull this off/" I cut her off immediately, "Bullshit!" I retorted. "I could hear a man's voice in the background, and I read his letter describing you as a cock hungry slut, and I suppose THAT THING covered you with more cum than I've ever seen, AND IT WAS BARKING OUT FUCKING ORDERS FOR ME TO FOLLOW!" Yeah, you could say I was pretty worked up at this point. "Baby," Mariah said calmly, "give me a chance to let you in on all this." She turned in a circle slowly, giving a panoramic view of our bedroom. She moved with the camera and showed inside the closets, and then under the bed. There was no one there save her, and indeed her dresser was blocking our closed bedroom door as I suspected. Then she panned in on the dildo on the wall, then slightly down to the end of the dresser. There she picked up something and zoomed in. It was a yogurt cup, vanilla if I'm not mistaken. She upended it showing me it was mostly empty. She said, "I just meant to fill my mouth and let it run out, but it had been out of the fridge for an hour and when I tipped it up it the entire thing poured all over me. I was cornered because of the position of the camera, no way to get it off without you seeing -- I can't believe that wasn't a dead giveaway. You are so retarded!" she laughed into the phone. I started relaxing a little, but still upset had more questions, "Well what about the letter then? You would never write something like that/" She interrupted, "What's the last thing you would expect me to call myself, Max?" "A slut," I proudly proclaimed, even if I didn't understand what was happening here I at least knew the answer to this question. There was silence for a few seconds. Then she chimed back in, "Right. Get it?" "Oh," I said, "another prop, another very convincing prop. And," I continued with a tone sounding beaten even to me, "the voice?" With that she whipped the camera around to our television in the opposite corner along the wall, far out of site of the camera view before. It was playing the rhythm and blues channel on cable. As she approached the set I could hear the familiar tone and timbre of the voice, well I guess voices, I heard before. "So what about you asking him how he would feel if he was me?" I said regaining a little spark. "ACTING," she blurted with a laugh, raising her arms, palms up, into the air. "I WAS ACTING," she went on sarcastically, doing a miserable John Lovitz impersonation. "Well what was that about letting him get you pregnant? What the fuck was that?!" I queried, sure I had to be onto something with this one. Mariah dropped her smile. "Honestly baby," she continued sincerely, "that wasn't in the plan at all. But I got so worked up. You should remember years ago when we were dating -- I used to talk like that...about you filling me with cum and making me pregnant. I don't know why, but it gets me really hot and that slipped out when I was cumming. I definitively do not want someone else to get me pregnant, but since your vasectomy, that fantasy is hard to keep in mind anymore as, well...it just isn't realistic. I guess pretending for you some guy was having his way with me brought that back, brought back that danger. I'm sorry if that upset you, I meant nothing by it. But maybe I can get some of that danger back in fantasy with us even if I know there is no way/" "OK, OK, enough," I threw in without invitation. "I get the idea." I paused briefly while she continued to listen. "In this context, with me being your ONLY lover, the thought of the old days where you would ask me if I was going to get you pregnant as I fucked you was a turn on. Except the actual fear of it happening was a stalwart sometimes. This way, I have to confess; the implication without the possibility, we'd have to be pretending I was someone...well...that is kind of enticing." Mariah smiled broadly. "That's all I need to know about that, neighbor" she mused. "So who did you call before you called me, where are our kids?" I asked staunchly, my ire returning. She hesitated with a questioning look. "Our kids? What? Where do you think...oh. Our kids are in their rooms, asleep baby." She relaxed and her tone changed, "Great segue though. Stand up," she said methodically. 'Why in the world would she want me to stand up?' I thought. Biz Trip Brings Out Wife Ch. 03-04 At this point, however, I was feeling great relief and just did as she asked. As soon as I was up, I received an even bigger shock than anything else that had happened that evening. The lights went on in the room across the alley and out stepped the woman from the night before, holding up a camera with a telephoto lens, snapping shots of me. "What the fuck?!" I stammered, half into the phone, half to the woman in the adjacent room. "Max, ummm...meet Jody," Mariah said quietly, a slight tremor in her voice. I just stood there, mouth agape for several seconds, until I realized I was being photographed. I jumped backward into my room as Jody lowered the camera. "Max, may I please clean up and call you back. This yogurt is sticky and is dripping down the front of my dresser. I'm sure you are confused and I'll explain this last little bit." After all the sweating and puking, and apparently picture taking that had been going on, I too wanted to freshen up. I also wanted some time to think, to let my mind sort what of this made any sense. So I agreed. But I told her I would call her when I was ready, instead of the other way around. During the break I thought through all of what occurred piece by piece. At first I was combing for any hole in her story. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized what Mariah told me fit. The impossibility of pre-setting the number and depth of props to cover something else became apparent. Applying Achems razor, her description was the simplest explanation. When I called back, Mariah answered immediately as if she had the phone in a hip holster. "I love you. I want you. I love and want you and only you, my love, my man," were her first words, spoken softly but with intent. "Good start," I said with a half laugh half snort, "But...Jody...what is this?" After all my thought and consideration, for the moment I was the simple one. Mariah asked me to go back on the balcony so she could explain. As I emerged, Jody was there, sitting with a big smile smoking a cigarette. The camera was now attached to a laptop sitting on a small table. I began to speak but had no idea what to say. I heard the words, "will you please tell me what is going on?" escape my lips. Mariah nervously chuckled, " Uhh...you might want to sit down for this," and I did, staring at Jody across the way, never averting my gaze as Mariah continued what I can only define as the most twisted saga of my life: "Max, baby, I had a great time last night with you. But it was because you were there with me, at least in my ear and mind. I guess I don't need to tell you I have struggled with sexual things in the past and have never really let you get to, whatever it was you were trying to get to. And this might be hard to understand but I've never let myself get anywhere either. The thing is, I've begun to feel differently. But I want you to know one thing is the same as ever. I love you and only want to be with you. I don't know if I'm entering my prime late, or if it is something else, but I just feel differently about some things." "What do you mean?" I asked looking back at the screen seeing Mariah showered and wearing her short bathrobe. "Well," she went on, "this is complicated so maybe we can talk more about it later. For now lets just say that being with and playing with you isn't on the bottom of my list anymore. And I'm sorry these feelings are so long in coming and I messed tonight up. I have lived through my relationships fantasizing the men I was with, including you, would see I'm the smartest and coolest person they have ever met and would never leave. I felt I deserved undying love, respect, and loyalty regardless of how I felt, acted, or failed to return those sentiments. Truth be known, I kind of wanted to be able to treat them...you...like shit. I survived by blaming everything I wasn't happy with on the men in my life while expecting the same people to fix problems only I could fix. I'm sorry I scared you tonight, it never occurred to me that you wouldn't know/" I cut her off, not caring who heard this blow out like a cannon; "DON'T YOU EVER do anything like that again! I almost had a heart attack and a stroke at the same time. I puked over the railing when I read that fucking email! Why would you do that, how did you do all this?!" Mariah continued, "After we hung up last night my mind started reeling. I knew whoever was driving by probably couldn't see anything through the trees in the front yard, but it gave me this idea: the idea of giving you what we talked about last night, what you've fantasized about with me before, without actually having to do it. The thing is Max, I just don't want anybody else. I won't lie to you, I have fantasies about others, but they are, well they aren't real people. When that happens they are usually taking advantage of me and using me in situations I am helpless to prevent, kind of like tonight -- sometimes less complicated, other times even more. At times you are one of them, but after the things you shared in the past, in my mind there are times you are just watching me being ravished. Sometimes you are controlling it, others you are incapacitated in the situation by force or location. I don't know why being taken is such a common fantasy of women. But more and more when I fantasize about this kind of thing the biggest turn on is the thought that whatever is happening to me is exciting to you...getting you off. I see now there is more behind the things you shared than were apparent at the time. I probably should have realized that before. But, thinking it was something you wanted I thought about how I could make that kind of fantasy work for you...well, for both of us really. These thoughts are new and honestly very strange to me, but I wanted to see you when that was happening. This morning I made two calls. The first was to your hotel to get the name of the one next to it. The second was to that hotel to explain I was trying to find someone. I told them I was a clerk at a store and a woman left a bag, she paid in cash so I didn't know her name but she had mentioned where she was staying and that she had a dismal view of an alley from the 14th floor. It was amazing how the desk clerk snapped into detective mode. That's how I met Jody; they patched me through to her room. I told her who I was and she, unsurprisingly, knew EXACTLY who you were. I told Jody about another thing my mind was turning over last night. I know you like to watch me, and for some reason think I'm the sexiest woman on the planet. But I've been feeling the same about you. You are so handsome and have an incredible body. Sometimes recently I find myself looking at you and...I don't know how to explain it. You are so calm and accepting - so attractive. Like there's nothing I could say that would cripple you in some way. I look at you and I see this strong, beautiful man. And you are my man. I've started taking a little time to think about sex, and lately I started thinking about what it would be like to watch you...well...get off I guess -- knowing you were thinking about me. So I asked Jody if she had a camera. Guess what she does for a living?" This was about the time my ass sucked up the seat cushion underneath it. "A photographer?" I meekly guessed. "Yep, and an open minded and easily entertained one at that, if I need remind you. She promised to send the pics to me and then erase them. But don't worry, I'm not stupid. I looked her up. She is well known for citywide, religious, and historical journal shots. If she were ever tied to porn, it would end her career. But just to make sure, I had her fax me a contract stating she would do as I requested in return for a small payment, with heavy penalty if these ever got out. After last night, she was quite sympathetic to my request. And look here, the photos just arrived...Jesus, there must be over a hundred pictures...my my." The reality of Jody photographing me through this ordeal hit me harder than tomahawk missile. "You're fu fucking kidding me... rr rrrright?" I stammered. She didn't take long to respond -- "Ask Jody how many photos she took, the answer is 131." So I asked over the darkened alley, and as Jody called out the same number it was now she with the Cheshire grin spread across her face. "So what did you pay her?!" I asked sharply. "Oh god, look at that," Mariah went on. "Baby, I know this didn't work out as I thought it would but try not to be mad, you certainly got hard at first. Wow...God you are big..." "Just tell me what the fuck you intend to do with those photos and what you are paying her," I said loudly. After a short pause she started again, "Honey, calm down. These pictures are just for me. And what I am paying is between me and her, it's not your money or anything else. Can you live with that?" I thought for a second. I really wanted to know. But if I was in fact not the one paying, regardless of my feelings about the services provided, it was not my right to know. "I can live with that for now, if you swear no one else will see them, but given everything that has happened here I reserve the right to change my mind." "Fair enough," she answered, continuing, "So here is the thing, when you get home tomorrow I promise to make this up to you, but the shots before you got pissed off are really hot! Would you ever consider letting me do a little watching of my own?" I cleared my throat, almost not believing these thoughts were at the forefront of her mind at this point in the conversation. 'What in the world has happened to her?' was an inescapable question echoing in my head. I looked down at the screen and breathed in my hottest of hot wives bending slightly in front of the computer. Her hand was on the mouse and the light from the screen flickered as she went through one photo after another every few seconds. "Damn she is a great photographer," she said. "I understand if you are not ready to answer that right now. You can think about it on your way home. I love YOU -- she clicked to another shot - DAMN I LOVE YOU!" "Mariah," I said into the phone abruptly and with strength in my voice. She stopped looking at the pictures and back up to the camera. After a second she replied in a hushed, slightly scared voice, "Yes....love?" "Undo your robe and let me see those big tits." I said in the same way I would order a burger with cheese. She did so without hesitation and they were delectable. I immediately hardened. "I will consider your request and let you know. The fact that you went through so much to make this happen is a pleasant surprise, even if the outcome was disastrous for me. You have been very imaginative, but you have also been a very, very naughty wife in the process. There is a side of me you do not know; and as you suggested earlier about things going on with you, maybe we can discuss that more in the future. But for now, let's just say acting on my creative side isn't at the bottom of my list anymore. Out of love and respect for you our sex life has been where you wanted it, when you wanted it, and how you wanted it, often followed by complaint by you about one or more of those things. After the last two nights, your coming out has opened a door. One that I am tempted to walk through as well. My crossing this threshold with you doesn't seem unreasonable. Would you agree?" Mariah thought for a moment. I know her so well I could feel the trepidation on her end. The fact that I gain pleasure from watching her is but one glimpse she has been exposed to from my bigger side, my darker side. Deep down she knows I am scared of nothing, willing to try nearly anything to escalate her experience, wanting and waiting to release a thirst unquenchable on her body for hours, days, years. In the silence I turned the question, "Mariah, is this just a time for you to explore yourself, or is this a time for both of us?" "Oh Max," she replied. "There are just so many things...I... but....this is all my shit...inhibited....it's just easier when you aren't...when I.../" I guess I could have let her spit out unqualified phrases for another half hour or so, but I stopped her. "There is no one more afraid of the darkness that has existed between us than me. I have been nothing short of a complete wreck when knocking on this door before. But this is simple and I'll respect whatever answer you give. Is this a time for you to move forward, or for us to?" Mariah took a deep breath, "US!" she chimed. "I love you! This is a time for us!" "Very well then my love," I said. "With that I will leave you tonight with one final thought: payback is a bitch. See you tomorrow night." I closed the phone. As I looked up Jody smiled at me. I considered asking what my wife was paying her but thought better of it. I thought for a moment and asked instead, "You still on the clock?" She answered by stamping out her smoke and picking up her camera, focusing on me. I stood and slowly undressed turning full circle several times. My cock was standing straight out, so solid I could have hung a half dozen dress shirts on it. I could faintly hear one click after another as I turned my chair towards Jody and sat, pulling up the screen shots of Mariah I had taken earlier. Looking at my sumptuous wife - delicious again, I caressed my length and played with my balls using both hands. I changed positions, sliding down in my chair, moving my legs apart wide, raising my left arm away from my torso, my cock pointing straight up of its own accord, making sure as much of my body was visible to the camera as possible. As she clicked away I took hold of my large member and began pumping my cock, all too ready for release. After clicking through more shots, seeing my wife acting the perfect slut for me, and only me, my balls began to tighten. It wasn't until then it actually struck me, I was allowing a virtual stranger to photograph me masturbating to my wife. I have no idea why, but that coupled with the thought of giving these pictures to Mariah escalated some weird sense of lustful submission. I started pulling at myself, my back arching involuntarily. As I got closer I closed my eyes -- something new was mounting within me -- I suddenly had the distinct sense I was floating. And then it happened. I erupted with a force also foreign, actually crying out at the intense pressure and spasm. The first stream arched several feet in the air and landed across my cheek, lips and chin. Spurt after spurt followed, settling in creamy streams over my chest and belly. After a minute to regain my breath and composure I asked Jody if she had any suggestions. "Stand up and come as close as you can," she replied. As I did so cum started running down my body. I had no idea there was so much on my face until it started dribbling down, over my mouth to my chin, dripping off into the alley below. "Open your mouth a little," Jody said flatly. She clicked away as I complied. "Hook your first two fingers in your mouth with your left hand and squeeze the base of your cock with your right," she further instructed. I wasn't really sure about doing this with cum on my lips -- but it occurred to me that Mariah takes me in her mouth and has recently started swallowing...so why not? As I tasted the salty sweetness on my fingers I grabbed my still erect cock as Jody told me, squeezing hard. I saw a large drop of cum emerge and sit on the tip for a few moments, then run down and drip into the darkness. I looked back at Jody and she lowered the camera. "I think that'll do quite nicely for her," she said. "You want me to send them now?" "Actually," I decided, "Please send those to me. I have something special in mind. I call it Plan C." She looked at me inquisitively and after I gave her my email address she kept gazing at me with a pleasant and pleased expression. "What?" I asked. "You two are very lucky to have each other. Your relationship is reaching depths and intimacy rarely shared between two people, and I've got a feeling you are just getting started. I would love to know how things go from here." Well, maybe we'll run into each other again," I said, "stranger things have happened." She smiled and walked into her room. She turned round to slide the glass door closed. I could barely hear her as the door choked off our connection, "Funny you should say that, might happen sooner than/" I went in, wiped off, and lay on my bed hands under my head, staring at the white ceiling. I would have a lot to think about, starting right now. But the first thought that came to me was Mariah and this sudden, unexpected change. "Who the hell are you?" I wondered aloud. "And I would ask you what you've done with my wife... but I'm not sure I really care." (to be continued under title "Husband Returns Home")