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Make Me Die A Little Ch. 1

By: coaster12345



There was something deliciously naughty about being at a party with Jordan, my wife of eight years, when I'd also been fucking the hostess on the side. This happened a few years ago, but it's no less alive in my mind.

It was a Christmas party in Lower Manhattan. The hostess was a divorcee I worked with named Barbara, a tall, slim, mid-30s sophisticate with large brown eyes, tousled chestnut hair, small tasty tits, and a pouty mouth with bee-stung, Julia Roberts lips. Jordan, by contrast, was more an Anette Benning type, only with short black hair and smouldering black eyes. Her body was small, slim, exquisitely formed. She possessed a demure, soft-spoken exterior which belied an inner passion secretly aching for forbidden games. 

We had long entertained fantasies of her making it with another woman, for example, another man or couple perhaps. She had begun to voice suspicions---correct, as it happened, though I'd not yet admitted it--- that I was something more than workmates with Barbara. The fact was that Barbara and I had been meeting two or three times a week for lunch, and enjoying a long slow fuck, in this very apartment.

It was a spacious spread near New York's Grammercy Park. Outside, snow was falling. The streets had taken on that wasteland air of the wintry city night--- but inside, it was warm and getting warmer. The windows, streaked with steam and framed outside with snow, lent a cozy, private feeling to the place. 

Christmas tree lights oozed off and on. The Grateful Dead's "Dark Star" spiraled softly through dark and twisting smoke. The sweet smell of grass mingled with the clean scent of Yuletide candles and the shimmering lights of the tree. A half dozen couples, writers and editors from New York's literary and journalistic scene, chatted quietly over wine and cheese, moved around, danced a little, exchanged sweet seasonal kisses under the mistletoe, shared occasional tokes, and not so innocent surreptitious fondlings---in the kitchen, where the champagne bar was open; in the living room, where the tree spun its soft-hued glow, in the long, dark hallway off which beckoned a bath and three empty bedrooms, including Barbara's. 

As a house present, Jordan and I had brought an ounce of pure Moroccan hashish--- the pale green natural pollen collected from great stands of potent grass and pressed into cakes, part of a stash we'd brought back from our vacation in Tangier and Marrakesh. We shared a pipe with Barbara on arrival, and were now quite blissfully stoned. I had been moving among the guests, chatting with this one and that, noting as I did that Barbara and Jordan had been heart-to-hearting in the kitchen for what seemed like hours. 

Seeing them together, I felt a sexual rush. I thought of them as they each had been, naked in my arms--- Barbara, long and lithe, with a reserve that turned to fury as she grew roused; Jordan, small, soft, ever-eager, with a wild gleam in her eye, an earthy tongue, and a ready lust lingering just below the surface of her outward cool. I recalled the clasp of their cunts around my hot stiff prick: Barbara's slim and slick, quick and pulsing; Jordan's, lush and warm and wet as a baby's mouth. God, I thought, we were good together--- and I was lucky to have them both!

Now it was growing late, and one by one the couples were leaving, drifting out into the wintry cold. I sat in the candle-lit dining room, giggling, finger-feeding rum cake into Barbara's pouty mouth. Jordan was off in the living room, in earnest conversation with a man who'd come alone. They'd been engrossed in whatever it was for quite some time. Then, in the soft light, I watched her lay her fingertips upon his lips. He hesitated. She whispered something. Her face came closer and their lips met. Her tongue slithered over his lips, his hand cupped her chin as he returned the kiss, and his tongue met hers. My surprise was accompanied by a jolt in the general area of my genitals. This wasn't mistletoe kissing. This was real.

Barbara's eyes followed my glance. We watched Jordan's arms go around the man's neck as his hand slipped down and gently closed over her cashmere-covered breast. They rocked in slow embrace, their mouths joined, parting for breath, whispering words we could not hear, then moving together for yet another kiss. 

She was oblivious to me. Her hand lay along the inside of his thigh, inches from his cock. He was fondling both her breasts now, the cashmere threads caressing her, his fingertips lightly squeezing her nipples. I watched her draw a deep, heavy breath, watched his fingers manipulating her nipples, watched her go back to kissing him again. My cock thickened.

I was spellbound! I knew how excited Jordan got on hash. I recalled all the times we'd lain in bed, fantasizing about her fucking another man. "You'd let him fondle you, caress your tits," I'd whisper. She'd answer, "Yes! And feel his cock get hard in my hand!" I'd part her thighs and let my fingers find her cunt and say, "He'd finger you like this, wouldn't he..." She'd say, "Yesss... and then he'd move between my legs and slide his stiff, hot cock in me..." 

And now here she was, twined in foreplay, before my eyes. The room seemed warmer, smaller. The snow outside was falling heavier. But the temperature was rising.

Barbara chuckled softly. "Turn about is fair play." Her familiar hand reached out and closed around my hardened cock. "It seems that you're enjoying what you see." 

"We've talked... but I'd never seen her with another man," I stammered.

"Enjoy," she said. "You've often told me how you'd like to see her fuck another man."

"Oh, I would..."

"She's going to..."

"Meaning....?"

"Watch...". I was mesmerized. Jordan's sculpted throat gleamed like ivory in the Christmas lights. She had arched her back to give his hands full play on both her tits. Her hand was on his cock now. I imagined her nipples hardening in his fingers, her pussy weeping as her passion rose, his cock grown fat and full beneath her fondling hand. My prick swelled.

Barbara smiled. "You like it, don't you," she whispered. 

"It's incredibly exciting...." 

Barbara eyed me with amusement over the lip of her champagne. "She's going to fuck him, you know," she said. 

I gasped. "How do you know?" 

She brought her face up close to mine. "Because I told her about us. I told her how we come here lunchtimes and fuck." 

I was stunned. I'd thought of telling Jordan sometime in one of our fantasies, but never dreamed she'd hear it from someone else--- much less from Barbara! 

"How did she react?" I gasped. 

Barbara put a finger to my lips. "She was cool--- as usual," she said. "First she wanted details: How did it start? I reminded her of that time last year when she was out of town. How often did we meet? I said 'Not enough...' What did we do? I told her how we did it all--- how we'd share a joint, and I sucked your cock, and how you licked me, and how I came when you sucked my clit... "

"You told her that?"

"I felt like we were sisters sharing secrets.'

"Did you make it with her?"

"I wanted to."

"But did you?"

"No."

"What did you do?"

"We talked about sex. She wanted to know if you and I talked about her. I told her yes--- and what a luscious fuck you thought she was." 

Barbara smiled. "She asked if I liked your cock. What do you think I said?"

I shook my head.

"I said I loved it... love it filling me, sliding on the walls of my hot cunt..."

Now I was in shock. 

Barbara went on: "I asked her why she wanted to know all this. She said--- I quote--- 'I don't get mad. I get even. And besides, it makes me fucking hot!'" 

"But why did you tell her?" I asked. 

Barbara's answer is ever etched in my memory. "Because I want us to watch her get even," she said. 

With that, Barbara kissed me. Her tongue slithered into my mouth like a warm, wet snake. Gripping her ass and pulling her against me, I gave myself up to my mind-spinning high, the sweet taste of her hot hash breath, the soft feel of her pelvis pressing in on my now-rigid prick. I was stoned. My eyes were closed, but behind the lids flashed wild, obscene visions of my wife sucking this stranger's muscular cock, of her cunt laid bare before him, her legs spread wide, his tongue lapping the wrinkled lips of her gaping pussy, of his ruby-headed cock rubbing on her clit, then pushing up inside her juicy cunt--- and of her response with wriggling, humping hips and groans and her favorite wanton whispers: "Fuck me--make it cum," and "Fuck me, make me die a little."

When I opened my eyes, the couch was empty. Jordan and her newfound friend were gone. I saw a brief flash of light as a door opened down the darkened hallway. The last of the guests, save the stranger with my wife, were bidding their farewells, I was alone with Barbara, my wife and a man whom I knew was about to fuck her. And in the dimly glittering umbra of the candles, the heavy-scented shadows of the night, I could not remember ever being more aroused. 

Then Barbara's face was rising to mine; her tongue was flicking deliciously over my lips, tasting of fruit cake; and my heart was beating so in my chest so hard I feared that it might burst. I wanted to fuck her right there at the table.

My hands slid beneath her cashmere sweater, unhooked her bra and cupped her soft, smooth tits. Her little nipples were already hard. 

"I love these," I said. 

"Touch them," she replied. She exhaled when I touched them and I smelled her pussy, its feral heat, on her breath. It was as if her cunt's sweet juice was dripping in my mouth on her saliva.

'It's got you hot, that they've gone off to fuck, hasn't it," she whispered. 

"Yes!" I said, and she could feel the proof in my ramrod cock and beating heart. 

I raised her sweater and sucked her puckered nipples. She sighed--- I loved it when she sighed--- and one hand moved behind my head to hold me to her tit; the other clasped my prick, and stroked in rhythm with the sucking of my lips. "You do want to watch them, don't you?"

"Oh God! Yes!"

"Give them a moment," Barbara said, "That door latch doesn't close." 

We tiptoed down the darkened hall. The bedroom door was open just an inch or two--- enough for Barbara and me, standing in the hall, to see inside without being seen ourselves by those within. I stood behind Barbara, my hands beneath her sweater, cupping her sweet tits; her hand reached back, unzipped my fly and freed my hardened cock. Light as feathers, her fingers fluttered along my rigid shaft. Her warm palm glided over my cockhead like a dry tongue, and I thrust my hips back and forth as if it were--- as the drama in the room played out before our eyes.. The only light in the room was a Christmas candle in an ashtray on the desk. Its flame cast large, undulating shadows of Jordan and her stranger on the wall behind the day bed where there they lay, kissing in passionate embrace. He was on his back amid a clump of pillows, one hand down inside Jordan's exposed panties, his own pants unzipped, his prick very large and very erect. Jordan was sprawled out open, her hips, her cunt, twitching on his fingers, her hand languidly stroking the robust length of his thick cock. 

I gasped. What did it feel like? What she was thinking? Had she pushed all other thoughts aside to imagine it inside her? This large, lumbering cock, this protean, mythic symbol of man.... For a fleeting moment, I wondered what it would be like to be a woman, to know just what it felt like to hold and suck a prick. Then I slid my hand down inside Barbara's slacks and my fingertips found her pussy hair, and the warmthy wetness of her hungry cunt. She turned her head. 

"Want to join them?" she whispered.

"No," I replied. "I want to watch."

"Don't take your hand away," she said.

"Don't take yours," I replied, marveling in the soft and gentle ministrations of her hand, and the gathering lushness of her cunt.

He removed Jordan's sweater, unhooked her bra, and sucked her turgid nipples, first one, then the other. She moaned. "Do that!" she ordered, and stroked him harder, faster. "Oh, God! " she sighed. "Your prick's so big!" 

He chuckled low. "Your cunt is hot--- and wet." 

She wriggled her pussy against his hand. "I want this prick up deep inside my cunt!" she crooned. "I want to feel it filling me." 

The words were old as fuck itself, but I loved it when she talked that way to me. Now, hearing her voice those words to another man, and hearing him goad her on, was almost more than I could bear. I finger fucked my sweet lithe Barbara, and she said, "Listen to their fuck talk!"

"Ssshhh!" she replied.

"You want me to fuck you, don't you!" he said. 

"Yessss," she hissed, fondling his club-like cock. "I want this hot meat up my cunt..."

"You're a slut. A fucking slut," he whispered. 

"I want your prick," my wife replied.

"Pushing into you?" he asked. "Pressing your cunt's wet walls? Filling you..?" 

"Yes,deep!" she said. "Pumping in and out!"

"Fucking!" 

"Yes, fucking me! In and out! Up and down! Oh fuck, yes!" 

She pulled away from him then, got swiftly to her feet, and peeled off her panties. He shed his trousers and skivvies and his big prick wagged in the air. Holding her dress's hem up around her tits, she came to him, offering him her cunt. He grasped the cheeks of her ass, thrust his mouth into her pussy, and breathed in the intoxicating aroma of her lust. And then, as his tongue slithered between her cunt lips, she began to undulate, a dreamy, adagio bump and grind. 

They moved without words, as if in a dance where time had somehow been suspended, the only sound the quiet "Ooooh, ooooh, ooooh!" that Jordan alway made when I was eating her. He laid her out amid the pillows, her legs spread wide, her thick black bush now matted from his tongue, her eager cunt lips parted, oozing juice--- a luscious mollusk from the sea waiting to be sucked into his mouth.

"More?" he asked.

"Yes more." 

And he gave it to her, burying his face in that cunt I'd known so intimately so long. His hot tongue flickered, slurping, in and out, up and down, a hummingbird sipping at a flower. It slithered into the very mouth of her hot sheath, plunged and withdrew, slurped and plunged again. Two fingers sluiced up deep inside her hot wet cunt to rub her secret G spot. "Ahhhhhhhhhh!" he exclaimed, and she answered with, "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh".

"Slap it!" she cried. "Slap my cunt!" He slapped it with one hand and finger-fucked her with the other while his mouth still laved her clit. 

She squeezing her own nipples, groaning aloud, crooning, "Oh God! Oh shit! Oh, suck me! Oh!" And then his lips closed round her clit and suckled it in his mouth like the oyster that it was. She shuddered, bucked her hips up into his face, and gasped, "Oh God! Oh Christ! Oh FUCK! Don't stop!" ---then loosed a long low guttural grunt, as wave after wave of lapping, overlapping flame rose up from her depths and rolled over her. "Aaaaaaaaaagh!" she groaned. "Make me die a little!"

They were the same magic words she always spoke with me. For a moment they lay silent. Then she shifted so her head was near his prick. It looked large, cumbersome, almost menacing against her soft sweet face. She took its shaft between her fingers and studied it curiously, lovingly, as one would some new and precious icon. Her lips parted. Her tongue flicked out and tentatively touched its head. She looked up at him and smiled shyly--- and then, as if diving head first into a pool, she went down on him. She swallowed the length of it, then pulled back, dribbling saliva down its length. The flat of her tongue lapped the swollen tube through which his juice would pulse. She took his balls into her mouth and slurped. Her tongue slid up and glided in teasing circles around and under his bulbous, rubiant cockhead. Her delicate fingers caressed the soft silky skin of its shaft. He groaned. Pulling away a bit, holding his prick as if it were a baton, it almost seemed in that flickering light that she looked at us and smiled. 

"No more," he said. "I want to cum inside you."

"Yesss." 

She moved so he could slide between her outsplayed thighs. He moved up over her, his great prick a blunt-nosed canon aimed at her gaping cunt. I'd never looked so closely at a man's erect prick before, and it mesmerized me, excited me--- its veined length, its muscular thickness, its princely head that was about to enter the cunt I loved. My fingers fucking Barbara's cunt, her soft hand jerking off my prick, I was too consumed with lust to deal rationally with these feelings. But I knew that the moment of which I'd fantasized so long had finally arrived. Jordan reached down, grasped his proud stiff cock, and guided it to her eager cunt lips. "Fuck me," Jordan whispered. "Put your prick in me."

And then he did.

It was a moment I will die remembering. I could not breathe. My heart pounded. I felt that wild dancing stirring in my groin that tells a man his cum is near. Still I watched, mesmerized. Wantonly, he moved closer to his goal, his prick protruding like a lance. Her face was flushed, her eyes wide with lust. Her cunt glistened in the flickering light. For just a moment, his prick dangled in the air, as a serpent hovers before it strikes. The it came closer--- closer. His cockhead rubbed her blood-filled clit. 

"Give it to me!" she rasped. "Fuck me! Now!" 

And then, in one long, excruciatingly slow and sensuous thrust, his prick pushed into her. Her cunt lips distended to take it in. Another man was fucking my wife! And in that instant, as a cymbal when it's struck resounds with sound, both Jordan and her fucking lover came! Her hips bucked up at him; her arms flew round his neck. His pumping loins convulsed in sexual seizure and his prick began to jerk and squirt in her. 

Oblivious to who might hear, or care, she cried and sobbed in rhythm with his pulsing prick. "Oh! oh! oh, Jesus God! Make me die a little!" 

At the sound of those familiar words, I went, quite simply, blind. Barbara's fist closed tightly round my cock. One hand closed around her tit. The other, fingers and thumb, squeezed between her cunt and clit. And my own hot prick jerked once, then spurted, squirted in spastic palpitations its own hot juice into the hallway's empty darkness.

(end part 1. part 2 to cum)

Make Me Die A Little Ch. 2



We leaned against the hallway wall, recovering our composure after what we'd witnessed. Then, without a word we tip-toed away, back to the living room, where the post-party, post-orgasm silence laid on us like the dark. The apartment seemed vastly empty now. Barbara poured us both some wine, put "Workingman's Dead" on her stereo, and settled down with me on the sofa. The Christmas tree lights twinkled. The candles in the dining room cast a flickering glow. Garcia's ragged voice came forth: "She told me she cared, how was i-i to know-ow-ow. . ."  . I smiled ruefully. She told me she cared. I told her what I wanted. How was I to know she really would go fuck another man? I wrestled inwardly with notions of possessiveness, jealousy and macho amore propre I called Jordan my wife--- but did that mean I owned her? Had she not fucked other men before me? Had I not fucked many a woman both before and after we were married? And had I not been fucking Barbara? Why shouldn't Jordan enjoy the same pleasures I did? Did our marriage vows make a difference when neither emotion nor commitment, but only lustful pleasure, was involved? 

And what had I felt while watching her? Wasn't that the true test of my reaction? Barbara kissed me. Her words echoed the question in my mind: 

"How do you feel?" 

I shook my head. "Confused," I said. "Mixed feelings."

"You watched Jordan fuck another man, and it got you so excited that you came--- shot off. Nothing much mixed about that." 

Idiotically, I said aloud: "Maybe shot myself in the foot." 

She snuggled closer. "You don't mean that." 

"No, dammit, I don't," I conceded. "Whatever else comes of it, I love her--- and loved watching her! Watching his prick slide into her! The look of lust in her eyes as he filled her! His prick glistening with her juice! Watching her thrash and cum on his cock as he shot up into her!"

"You're more afraid of the future than what's already happened."

"I can't undo what's happened."

"That's the beauty of extra-marital sex," she said.

Damn Barbara! She was always so fucking smart--- and (a voice in me reminded) vice versa! I was trying to conjure up the guilt I expected I should feel, but Barbara's encouragement was making me hot all over again. Her hand stole down to my cock. "Mmm," she said. "It seems you liked it quite a lot. Didn't you . . .?"

I gave in to my remembered hallway lust. "Did Clinton like Monica sucking on his schlong?" 

Barbara's hand was more comfort than passion. We were sexual friends, and I needed a friend now. She milked my cock; I fondled her breasts, her nipples, then opened her jeans and diddled her pussy. Our lips were but an inch or two apart, but we didn't kiss. We talked in breathy whispers, still pleasantly stoned. 

"Your pussy's a warm, wet swamp," I said. "Did you know that Paris was founded on a swamp?"

"You're stoned."

"So are you."

Barbara giggled. "Do I have to answer in the form of a question?"

I was marveling at the liquidity of her mouth. "No," I said, in my best Alex Trebekian Canadaquois. "That's why we call the fuckers 'frogs.'" 

I paused. "Goooood to have you with us! Now let's move on!"

"The guy works for 'Le Monde,'" she said, and giggled again.

"Really?" I said. "Figures. Jordan loves French cuisine."

"Come on," she said. "Was it his cock? Was it bigger than yours?" 

My breath came faster. "Bigger, yes--- but no, not the issue." 

"Not jealous?" She plied my cock between her thumb and index finger. 

"No," I said truthfully. "I didn't feel we were in competition. The French have never fielded a world-class athlete."

"In tennis they have."

"Tennis isn't a sport. It's a social class."

I smiled as my dancing mind followed that thread. Tennis balls. Furry French tennis balls. The fucking French are such collective assholes. It was a frog that fucked her? OK. Call it Lend Lease. Call it the Marshall Plan.

"So you didn't mind it when he sucked her clit?" 

I flashed on the image: a French bath. "No, I loved it!" 

"And when he brought his prick to the mouth of her cunt?" 

"Poulet provencal!" 

"And when he pushed it up inside her?" 

"Paupiettes de Veau!!" 

"And when they both came-- and you knew he was shooting his cum inside her cunt?" 

"Stop it. It wasn't some anti-French thing."

But as I remembered her orgasm, the Marsaillaise went off in my head-- the trumpets, the clashing symbols, the crowd's roar! "Vive La France! Vive La France! Oh Fuck! Dont stop!"

Barbara licked my lips, rubbed her body against mine, and squeezed my cock. "Are we finished?"

I moved my hips against her hand and sighed my admission. "I loved it all, even if he was a frog. Tonight he was the handsome prince. " Then I remembered I was fingering Barbara's slippery cunt. "Besides, I loved feeling you up while we watched, feeling your hand jerking me off. . ." 

Still stroking, then, she bent over me then, took my cockhead between her lips and laved it with her tongue. Her upward gaze met mine. "I always wanted to jerk off a Francophobe watching his wife fuck a frog," she said. She engulfed my flaccid, Lilliputian prick in her warm wet mouth, and my mind reeled. 

"I'd like to see her do it again," I admitted, allowing myself a sly chuckle. "But preferably, with someone else, next time."

"Chacun a son gout," Barbara replied, her teeth raking my foreskin. "Bon appetit!"

I am a little uncertain of precisely what happened next. I suspect that I may have dozed off ---that the evening's mix of wine and hash and sex had briefly gotten to me. I know at some point I made my way to the bathroom, and when I returned, Jordan was back, dressed and dapper except for her messed up hair, ensconsed with Barbara on high-legged kitchen stools,slurping wine, and acting as if nothing whatever had happened. Okay by me, I thought. The guy she fucked was gone. A bien tot, mother fucker.

"The ghost of Christmas Past!" Barbara laughed as i appeared in the doorway. 

"Bah," I replied, with more inevitability than wit. "Humbug."

Jordan's wet boots stood puddling by the air vent. She'd evidently walked her fucker to his car. Sure enough, when she reached out for me, her hand was as icy as the outside night. 

"Barbara's invited us to stay over over, honey," Jordan said, toking on Barbara's hash pipe. "It's snowing again--- knee deep, now, and the plows aren't even out. The streets are strewn with abandoned cars."

"So we might as well get ripped," I said happily, taking a toke, thinking "Here comes Santa Claus, here comes Santa Claus . . "--- and wondering what Old Santa had in his bag of toys.

"Barbara says we can have her room," Jordan said.

She kissed me on the corner of my mouth--- kissed me after she'd sucked that frog's cock. It was almost erotic! The hash had lifted me to a blissful sense of closeness to both women. I passed the pipe to Barbara. She smiled with her eyes and held the smoke inside her. Then she clasped Jordan's hand, and placed my own on top of theirs. 

"It's a good feeling we have here," she said, exhaling. "A good thing we have." 

At that moment, I think I loved both women. Barbara was in control, and steering us well. Jordan was radiant. She'd just been fucked. More germane, she'd just asserted herself. Her eyes glittered like stars. I had to admit that Barbara was right. 

There was a togetherness to our touching hands. I'd fucked them both--- and they both knew that now. I felt--- well, liberated. Out of the closet. Released from constraints. And so was Jordan. Our emotional circuits were off--- or at least on hold. I looked at my wife now through wholly different eyes, as though a new sexual creature had taken possession of her body. As if she was existing apart from me, from us, from our duality--- a new woman.  I wanted her now the way a man lusts for a lovely woman he has never fucked. 

A delicious thrill ran through me. We'd be sleeping in Barbara's bed--- where I'd fucked Barbara so many times. And I would soon be fucking this new woman's hot, lubricious cunt--- a cunt still warm and wet from another man's hot hard cock! The planets of my mind were spinning--- but beginning to spin in sync.

Jordan played to my reverie. "Wouldn't you like to sleep in Barbara's bed?" she asked teasingly. "I understand you've been doing a lot of other things there. This time, you could be there with me."

I pondered the opportunity. "Hmmm," I said with veiled sarcasm. "Plus a change, plus a la meme chose."

"A votre sante," she replied with a smirk, lifting her wine glass.

"I'd love it," I said, hardly able to contain my lust.

"In the same bed where you've fucked Barbara? . . ."

"Yes, baby," I said softly, "you know that now."

Barbara actually blushed, then recovered her cool, and kissed my cheek.  "Much as I love watching you two, it's time for beddy-bye," she said. "I'll sleep in the den." 

She drew herself up to her tall, slim height, and smiled archly. "Call me if you need anything."

"Bon soir," Jordan giggled. 

It was past 2 by now. Barbara, Jordan and I snuffed the Christmas candles and retired, Barbara to the den; Jordan and I to Barbara's spacious bedroom, where a single candle burned, suffusing the blue-gray walls and bed with a warm amber glow. 

I had no sooner closed the door than Jordan turned me around. 

"You watched, didn't you?" she asked. "You watched." 

There was a flush to her face; a fire in her eyes. Her mouth had a taunting look. Her hair was dissheveled, reminding me again of what I'd witnessed.. 

"You watched us fuck." 

I shrugged--- why not admit it? I nodded. My cock stirred.

"You liked it, didn't you?" she pressed. "You got hot watching that guy fondle me, and take off my clothes, and suck my tits, and lick my pussy . . ."

"Yes," I whispered. 

"You saw my cunt wide open before him . . his tongue licking me. You heard me tell him to suck my clit. . . "

"Yes!"

You watched him slide his big thick prick into me. . ." 

"Yes!" 

"Oh God! It felt good!" Her thumbs sketched circles around her hardened nipples. She smiled lasciviously: "And you loved it, didn't you!" 

I hesitated, speechless, then blurted out the truth: "I've never seen anything so exciting in my life!" 

Jordan smiled and slowly, brazenly, lifted her skirt, revealing her naked pussy--- she had not put her panties back on. She sat on the edge of the bed--- Barbara's bed--- and parted her thighs and smiled wickedly. 

"He licked me here," she said, spreading her pussy lips and rubbing her clit. "He ran his tongue all around me here." 

"I know," I said. My cock strained to be free.

"He stuffed his prick here, like this---" She slipped a finger into her cunt. 

"I saw."

"You want to stick your prick in me too!" 

"Yes!" I cried, as I shucked off my clothes. 

"The way you've done with Barbara!"

"Yes!" I was naked now, stroking my stiff prick as she fingered her pussy before my hungry eyes. 

We were on the same wanton wavelength now, engorging each other's sexual hunger with the recollection of what she'd done and what I'd seen. And through our eager eyes, we watched each other get hot--- and hotter. Her breath came in gasps and hisses. 

"I loved it, you know" she said. "Loved feeling his hot, hard prick in me. Feeling it move, and push inside me. Feeling it pumping in and out of me--- and all the time knowing that you were outside watching!" 

"I know you did, baby."

A drop of fluid oozed from the tip of my cockhead. Jordan leaned forward and licked it off. 

"Barbara was with me. She watched too. I stood behind her and held her tits as she jacked me off!" 

“You finger-fucked her?” 

“Yes,” I replied. 

She licked my fingers. "I can taste her." 

We tumbled onto Barbara's soft silk bed quilt. Jordan stroked my prick as our lips met and our tongues tangled. 

"She jerked your prick like this," she said, her fingertips skating over the soft silky skin of my cockshaft.

"Yes!" I answered. My hands fluttered over her body, caressed her buttocks, the inside of her thighs, her hot, tumescent pussy, as my mouth devoured her milky tits. 

"You loved it," she gasped. "You loved watching me fuck him, didn't you!" 

"Yes!"

"And you shot off in Barbara's hand when he shot off in me!"

"Oh God, yessss!" 

Jordan's hips heaved beneath my fingers. "It was so fucking good," she breathed. "It makes me so fucking hot thinking of it now! Knowing you watched! And Barbara jacked you off while you fingered her hot fucking cunt. She's fucked so many guys, and you've been fucking one of them . . ."

The erotic quotient of fuck-words gave way to a sudden realization of where we were. I could smell her perfumes, felt beneath me the silky quilt on which i'd fucked her so many times. I saw her in my mind's eye, stretched out on the bed, her long legs spread, her slim, chestnut pussy only inches from my throbbing prick. She was a living presence in the room. 

"You like to fuck her, don't you?"

"She's a wonderful fuck," I replied, sliding a finger into Jordan's hot and hungering cunt .

"Tell me about her," she husked. 

She wanted graphics, not feelings or emotions. "She straddles my hips and parts her cunt lips. Then she sits down on my prick." 

Jordan moaned. "And she grinds down on it . . .?" 

"Yes," I said. "Walks it into her cunt." 

Jordan's hand pumped my prick. "Oh, God, I bet it feels so good!. . . soft and hot and wet, like mine?"

"Different,"I said, and groped for words. "Quicker, slimmer . . .She closes her eyes and wriggles, where you look at me and heave up to meet my strokes--- "

"Like I did with that guy . . .."

The recollection fueled my erection. Suddenly, Jordan drew away and propped herself on an elbow. Her eyes were wild with lust. 

"Go get her," she said. "I want to watch you fuck her--- just like you watched me." 

The abruptness of her order left me stunned. Did she mean it? Women often dwell on fantasies they would never dream of realizing. Was it the hash and wine? A zonked out fantasy? But this was no longer fantasy. Jordan now knew that I'd been fucking Barbara--- and the idea of fucking her in front of Jordan drove me mad. Jordan's words dispelled remaining doubt.

"All the time that guy was fucking me," Jordan said, "I thought of you fucking Barbara here. Fucking, licking, sucking--- the whole thing. Now I want to see it: your tongue in her pussy; your prick pushing into her. I want to watch you jerk and squirt and shoot inside her while she convulses on your prick--- just as you saw me." 

One last nagging question needed to be answered. 

"What about you?" I asked. "If I bring her in here, what will you do?" 

Jordan squeezed her pussy lips around her clit and moaned. "I'd like to fuck her too," she said.

I wasted no more time. Slipping from the bed, I turned at the door for a last, loving look. Jordan lay naked in the flickering light, her legs spread wide, one hand diddling her clit, the other twisting her own hard nipples, her eyes, ablaze with lust.

"Bring her here," she hissed, " . . .and fuck her for me!"

"I'll be right back," I said, and padded down the hall. 

Barbara lay curled up in the same daybed where Jordan had fucked the stranger. She was naked except for a light yukata robe, and that was open breast to thigh so that the dark nest of her pussy was plainly visible. I felt a stirring deep inside me; my cock began to rise. And then I discovered that she only looked to be asleep. When I kneeled beside her bed, her hand snaked out in the darkness and gently grasped my cock. She took my hand in her other hand, parted her thighs, and placed it on her pussy. 

"I knew you'd come," she whispered. "Get in bed and fuck me ---fuck me with Jordan in the next room! I want to imagine her listening, with your prick in me." 

"I've got better things in store," I said. "Come with me. She wants to watch us fuck."

"Oh Jesus!" was Barbara's only answer.

Barbara's bedroom seemed even more enveloping than when I'd left it. The single candle still flickered atop the dresser, casting its golden glow on the blue silk quilt and curtains. Jordan lay as i had left her, sprawled naked, silent diddling her exposed cunt, staring up at us with lust-filled eyes. I removed Barbara's robe. She lay down beside Jordan and they gazed into each other's eyes. We knew, the three of us, that something singular was about to happen--- that whatever followed, this moment, this ineffably intense first time, would never come again. It seemed as if our souls were flowing together. 

There was a moment's hesitation, as if they weren't quite certain what to do. Then Barbara reached out. Her fingers caressed Jordan's hair, her cheek and throat. And then, without a word, Barbara rolled on her side and, still gazing into Jordan's eyes, began diddlingher own pussy just as Jordan was doing. 

The heat, the eroticism, was palpable. I stood at the foot of the bed and stroked my prick, marveling at the mystery of their differences. Barbara's breasts were small, the nipples pert and pale; her pussy hair, a thick black thatch; the lips, the swollen clit peeking out above them, were long and slender, like her body. I realized then how much she resembled the actress, Sybil Shepherd, and wondered in my hash-smoked daze if Shepherd's cunt looked like Barbara's. By contrast, Jordan's breasts were fuller, the nipples hard as wine grapes; her cunt hair was silky brown; the lips, full pouty and slightly parted, like her mouth. Her clit pulsed with her heartbeat. Two cunts; two pairs of breasts--- so similar, I mused, and yet, two wholly different women.

I reached down, took Barbara's hand and laid it on Jordan's pussy mound, then put Jordan's hand on Barbara's mound. Slowly, ever so gently, they began to frig each other. Their excitement rose. Their tempo quickened. Barbara rubbed Jordan's clit, took it between her fingertips and jerked it like a tiny prick. Jordan moaned, slipped a finger into Barbara's cunt, and Barbara mewed along with her. Coming together, they kissed, open-mouthed. Their tongues entwined as they finger-fucked each other. I wished I had two cocks so that I could fuck them simultaneously. I longed to feel their bodies pressed to mine, their wringing cunts wrapped around my buried prick. . I'd had enough of watching. I knelt on the bed, parted Barbara's thighs, and went down on her. My tongue feathered over her clit, as light as butterfly wings, while Jordan fingered her own cunt. Barbara gasped. "Oh God!" she whispered in Jordan's ear. "He's eating me! His mouth is on my cunt! His tongue is on my clit!"

"Do it!" Jordan said. "Lap her hot wet cunt!"

My tongue tip licked her aching pussy lips, darted like a snake into the fleshy tunnel of her lust, danced up and down, all over her clit--- then flickered there like a hummingbird sipping at a flower. Two fingers eased inside her cunt and rubbed its forward wall behind the pubic bone. My lips closed around the swollen bud and sucked it into my mouth.

"Your husband . . . your fucking husband's on my clit!" she gasped. 

"Fuck his tongue!" Jordan crooned.

"Yes, fuck my tongue," I mumbled, as best I could. 

Our words tumbled over each other. In the flickering candlelight I reached my free hand out and slid two fingers into Jordan's sopping cunt. 

Two cunts, my fingers in both. My mouth suckling one's clit! We were animal now, tangled in a manic dance of lust, and starting to go sexually amok.

"Fuck her!" Jordan grunted. "Shove your prick in Barbara's cunt!"

I moved up over her. My engorged cockhead nestled between her eager pussy lips. I thrust and Barbara groaned.

"Oooooh God! He's in me! His prick is in me! Ooooh . . .ooooh . . . deeper . . . oh God! It feels so good!"

"I'm fucking her," I whispered to my wife. "I'm buried in her cunt."




Make Me Die A Little Ch. 2



Jordan frigged her clit in frenzy. Barbara threw her legs around me. In unison, they cried:

"Don't stop! I'm gonna cum!" 

And then the twisting waves of lapping flame reached up, engulfed them both, rolled over them like supernova stars. They spasmed, embraced, convulsed, cried out--- and shaking, Barbara said, "Fuck Jordan now. I can't take any more."

I did. 

"You like this, don't you," I inquired as my prick, still wet from Barbara's cunt, slid into my sensually transformed wife.

"I do," she said.

"Those were the words that married us."

"Don't remind me," she replied. "I don't want to think about that now. I just want to feel you in me." 

"Where your fucking frog's thick prick just was?"

"Yes," she said, " . . .knowing that your cock has just come out of Barbara's cunt."

"Knowing we fuck others?"

She kissed me softly with lips of love. "Yes, knowing that," she said. I picked up the pace. Her sweet cunt clasped my cock, rhythmically squeezing and releasing as I pumped in an out. I was getting close. My God! I wanted her now! 

But she had other ideas.

"You shouldn't cum in me," she said. "Not tonight--- at least, not this first time."

The fact was that if I'd had to choose between my wife and Barbara, there would be no choice. I'd have given up my soul to cum in Jordan's cunt right then. That, I suppose, was a distinction women innately understand, and men only seldom come to know--- the line, as Johnny Mercer put it in a song that still reminds me of high school romances: 

"There's a line between love and fascination That's lost on an evening such as this When we both feel the very same sensation When we're lost in the magic of a kiss. . . ."

The line wasn't lost. But where I was "fucking two women", Jordan and Barbara were joined in a threesome with me as the male. I half smiled. They were into sexual sisterhood. 

So when I whispered, "Trust me, baby," Jordan already knew that. My wife expelled me from her cunt, and patted me on the thigh off in Barbara's direction. I said to myself "Okay"--- and brought my cock to Barbara's hungry cunt.

She looked up with wise and knowing eyes. "You understand, don't you," she said as my prick engulfed her. Jordan, my wife, was suckling her nipple. 

"Tell me," I said stupidly.

Barbara smiled. My prick began pumping of its own volition. 

"There are more ways to skin a cat," she said. "I've wanted you both."

I looked at my wife and said,. "I'm going to cum in Barbara." 

""I hoped you would," she said. 

The warm, slick, slippery walls of Barbara's cunt closed around my prick. I felt my pulsing prostate.. My cum shot up the bulging tube of my cock's underside. Its message was not procreative stuff. It was a bonding, binding, an. affection for two extravagantly sexual women who understand each other. And me.

"Oh Jesus Christ!" Barbara cried. "Stuff it up my cunt! Fuck me til I die!" . "Watch me, baby," I said to Jordan. "Watch my prick slide up her cunt!"

Frigging herself, Jordan took Barbara's nipple in her mouth and bit it. Barbara groaned. "Do it!" Jordan whispered.

I pushed. 

"My prick is between her cunt lips," I said. "Now a little deeper. . ." Barbara crooned: "It's going in. Oh! His prick is in my cunt!” She groaned. “Jesus! God! It's so fucking good!" 

I kissed Jordan and whispered, "Ah! we're fucking now, baby! Watch us fuck!!" 

Barbara writhed beneath me moaning, "Fuck me, oh, fuck me, fuck me!" 

I was in her to my balls , and my lady was beside me urging me on. "Tell me what he feels like," Jordan begged. Barbara''s hips thrust back with every stroke. "Oh!" she moaned"He's got such a big stff prick! You lucky bitch! To have this big, stiff prick to fill your cunt each night!" . I marveled at how different women can be. Barbara's cunt was softer than Jordan's, a luxurious erotic swamp that seemed to envelope my prick in its oozy warmth and suck me in to its depths. And with that, Barbara shut her eyes and screamed a long, loud, howling, "Ooooooh!"and flung her arms around my neck. Her hips heaved up and into mine. She spasmed once, twice, three times. 

"I'm cumming!" she gasped. "Cumming! Oh, I'm cumming! Yes!I'm cum-m-i-n-g!" . Barbara fucked through her orgasm and her spasms slowly died away. But I was still as hard as ever and had no wish to cum just yet myself. Withdrawing from Barbara, I knelt between Jordan's thighs and rubbed my cockhead, still wet with Barbara's juices, on her clit. 

"Your turn, baby," I said. Jordan reached down and grasped the shaft of my prick, fitted its head firmly between her cunt lips, and threw her hips up, engulfing my whole prick in one swift movement. 

"Stick that prick in me!" she hissed. “Stuff that slimey dick up my hot cunt!" 

I sank into Jordan to her depths; my cockhead touched her cervix, slipped through and nudged into her uterus. 

Jordan moaned: "Oh shit, you're in so deep! I can feel you in my womb! In my cervix' lips! Oh God, I've never felt a prick like this!" 

I pumped. Jordan groaned. I pulled out and Jordan whimpered, "No, don't stop! Don't go!"

I pumped back into her full length. Again her cervix' lips parted and my prick slipped in. It was a tiny mouth encircling my cockhead. 

"Fuck me! Fill me!" Jordan crooned. "Leave it in me there--- just move it a little." I did. She wriggled. "Don't stop!" she cried. "I'm almost there--- here it cums! Oooh! Yes! It's c-u-m-m-i-n-g!"

She was groaning, moaning, thrashing in convulsions under me. And now her words, her movement, the depth of our fucking, the tiny sucking mouth her cervix formed, the tightness of her slick hot cunt were all too much, and this time it was I who lost control. 

I felt it start, somewhere deep behind my balls and bowels--- that tiny electric tickle that tells a man there's no turning back, that sense of fluids swirling, of something in me trying to escape, that unbidden thrill rippling through my lower depths, roaring up inside me--- and then the spasms, the mind-blowing spasms as my cock jerked and spurted and squirted my thick white cum inside her cunt, the juices sluicing up inside her in gobs as time stood still. 

"I'm cumming," I gasped. "Cumming---" But I could say no more. With a sigh, I sank down into the sheets, and felt my prick go slowly limp. It slipped from her soft wet cunt and I closed my eyes, exhausted, and fell asleep. . We slept well into the next afternoon. But when we awoke, we did another round : first Jordan and I, then Barbara and I, and then the women together. And then we slept some more. When at last we got up it was nearing dinner time. We dressed, went out into the cold, brittle New York winter air and slogged through the snow and slush to the Moon Garden, our favorite Chinese restaurant, where an order of hot sour soup dispelled the cold. I felt a hand on my knee, my thigh, my crotch--- and looked up into Jordan's innocent, smiling eyes. “What are you doing?” I asked. "Sex is like Chinese food," she said softly, raising a toast with her Ch'ingtao beer. "A half an hour later, you're hungry again." . end