20 comments/ 102160 views/ 5 favorites Recipe for the Beast By: NightRAGES Sometimes she hated Rachel; like right now. Only someone so happy with life would want to go to a fortune teller. Rachel had Julie by the hand and was literally dragging her into the shop. Rachel was her best friend, so she did not put up too much of a fight, and she certainly did not wish to ruin her friend's good mood. She so enjoyed these shopping trips together; they were an escape from the drudgery that was her life. Rachel went in first, and Julie sat quietly in the waiting room. The place was cluttered with old books, unusual objects, and mostly dust. It looked like a flea market shop that no one patronized. She had never even noticed a sign advertising the presence of a fortune teller. Rachel had heard about the fortune teller from her sister, and she had been excited about the prospect of coming here for nearly two weeks. Julie looked at her watch, then glanced at the walls again. She stood up, and walked about the confines of the small shop, looking in vain out into the real world through the cluttered windows. She didn't hear Rachel emerge from the back, and jumped when she said, "Your future awaits." Rachel laughed at her for jumping, and from the look on her face, Julie knew she had heard good news. She would have left then, but Rachel was gently guiding her to the entrance of the back room. She parted the beads, and stepped into the presence of the gypsy woman. No other way to describe her, her dress made of several layers of colored fabrics, scarves tied in her long black hair, and more rings on her fingers than Julie had in her jewelry box. The scent of incense hung in the air, though she could not find its source. "Sit down Julie," the woman said. Julie pulled the wooden chair back from the table, and seated herself. She did not say a word. She did not need to. The gypsy woman began laying out cards on the table. Julie massaged her right hand with her left as she waited for the verdict. The gypsy woman was silent, studying the cards. Julie tried to guess her age, but could not settle on anything better than between 30 and 50. The woman's face showed lines of wisdom, her hands a softness that she envied. She was startled out of her thoughts when the gypsy woman finally spoke. "You did not want to come here." It was more a pronouncement than a question. Julie answered, "No offense, but I don't believe in this." "Then why do you fear what I have to say?" All Julie could do was swallow, the words would not come. "You are not happy with life, unlike your friend." Julie had known that well before coming here. "My friend has had better luck in life than I." The gypsy woman shook her head, "No she has not. She is merely accepting of her fate. She believes in destiny, in fate, and that she can not change her stars. She is happily resigned to what she has been given. You, on the other hand, do not believe things are written in stone. You were an optimist, though circumstances have beaten that from you." Julie looked into the gypsy's eyes. "You believe you can change your fate, and this brings misery. Knowing a better world awaits, but unable to find it." Julie stammered, "My marriage has not been what I hoped." "They seldom are." "My husband doesn't look at me like a woman anymore, I don't feel the heat I used to from him." "You are an attractive woman, yet you do not inspire the beast in men. What else do you expect?" Julie looked puzzled, "The beast? What do you mean?" "That feeling of being a woman that you miss, that is from the fight with the beast. The feeling that a man is focused on you, that he will do things against his better judgment, just to get his hands on your body. That is what you miss." "Yes." "Why don't you change that?" "How?" The gypsy woman looked at Julie for a time, staring at her, then turned, and reached into a shelf behind her. She took a stack of envelopes from the shelf, five envelopes to be precise, tied into a bundle by a single red ribbon. She handed the package to Julie. "This is the recipe for the beast. Each envelope contains an instruction. Carry out the instructions in order, one at a time. Wait two weeks between each instruction. If you are not satisfied, proceed with the next instruction. Most importantly, however, stop when you have achieved the desired effect. Men are different, some respond more quickly than others. If you go too far, there is no way back." Julie looked at the envelopes, then at the gypsy woman. She was already clearing the cards from the table, dismissing her without a word. Julie stood, putting the cards safely in her purse. She turned and parted the beads to exit. "There is no way back." Rachel stood there smiling, that look of expectant happiness, a look Julie now better understood on her friend. "Well?" Julie replied, "We'll see." They left the shop together, though their minds couldn't have been further apart. * Julie sat at her writing table and reached for the bundle; she had waited till the house was empty to pull it from her purse. She felt a little silly, but curious nonetheless. She undid the knot that held the bundle together, and spread the envelopes out on her writing table. Each of the envelopes had a number, one through five. She inserted the letter opener into the envelope labeled "1," and slit it along the top. She pulled the card, and glanced at the cover. "Discretion" She opened the card, and began reading. "First, you must know that to properly engage the beast you must not let it know what you are doing. The beast must feel it is the aggressor, and any indication on your part that you desire it may cause it to lose interest." Julie closed the card, unsure exactly what she was supposed to do. She had no intention of telling her husband what she was up to. He had spurned her efforts at igniting their passion before. She put the card into its envelope, then looked at the second one. She began to reach for it, but the image of the gypsy woman in her mind was enough to dissuade her. She would wait the two weeks as instructed. "Dress" Julie looked on the cover of the second card. She was glad it had been a Tuesday when she had seen the gypsy; her husband was always out on Tuesday nights. She opened the card, the anticipation of the last two weeks fostering a building excitement within her. She read. "Second, you must tempt the beast, show it enough to titillate it, lead its mind to the place you want it to go. Do not overpower it, but you must seduce the mind of the beast. Let the beast's sense of sight awaken it from its slumber." She had kept quiet these past two weeks, not even telling her friend Rachel what she was up to. Now it was good to have something concrete she could do. She had been less and less often considering the sexiness of her clothes; she felt a little rusty. She looked through her closet, but could find nothing there that seemed to fit the bill. She almost stumbled over the answer; her husband's shirt was laying in a pile on the floor. She stripped down to her panties, and put his shirt on, buttoning it up halfway. She looked at herself in the mirror. She messed her hair a bit, to give it that impromptu look, and smiled. She spent the next few hours in an agitated state, trying to do the housework she normally completed at night, alternately stealing glances at herself in the mirrors. She was in the kitchen, washing those dishes not destined for the dishwasher when her husband came home. She wanted to run to him, show him herself, but she remembered the first step - discretion. She held her breath for a moment .. and went on with the dishes. She heard her husband walk by in the hallway outside the kitchen. Perhaps he had not noticed. Maybe he had, and didn't care. The disappointment tried to well up in her, but she resisted. She bowed her head slightly, her eyes scanning her hands as she rested them on the counter. She caught a glimpse of her cleavage, courtesy of the half-buttoned shirt. Just as her disappointment was making a renewed assault, she heard footsteps behind her, then felt the hands on her hips. "Interesting garb for a dishwasher, is this how they dress in the kitchens of the finer restaurants?" She felt his head take its place between her head and shoulder, heard him inhale, then felt the touch of his lips. His hands moved from her hips to her waist, encircling her, squeezing her. She smiled. She gasped as he suddenly picked her up, and carried her away from the sink and on into their bedroom. He tossed her lovingly on to the bed, then turned around and walked to the door. He pulled his shirt from his pants with a vigor she had not seen in some time. She lay there, waiting, watching as his hand reached for the switch. The lights went off, and she felt his weight join her on the bed. * Julie parted the curtains to watch her husband pull out of the driveway; any other night of the past two weeks she would be sad to see him go. But it was Tuesday, and the success she had seen because of the gypsy woman's instructions made her anxious to move to step number three. She let the curtains slide back in place, and took her seat at her writing table. She pulled the envelopes from her purse, and quickly found the one labeled "3." The past two weeks had returned to her some of the sexy feelings she had when younger; her husband had paid her loving attention that she so desperately had needed. As she started to open the third envelope she remembered the gypsy's warning, about stopping when things had gone far enough. This was not that time, she convinced herself; the loving of the past several days had only aroused her more. She pulled the card from the envelope. "Deception" "Third, to reach the baser instincts of the beast you must arouse its suspicion. It is already alert to you, questioning whether its recent journeys have been due to good fortune, or something less comforting. Find the circumstance to give the beast reason to doubt you. Wound the beast with your denial." Julie was taken aback. Was the gypsy woman telling her to cheat on her husband? She had never been unfaithful to him in their eight years of marriage. She read the card again, and again once more. Her mind turned over the sentences. She wasn't telling her to cheat, just make her husband think she might be cheating. She sat back and thought of how to satisfy step three. * On Wednesday Julie called her husband at his office, and explained that she would not be home when he got off work, that an old girlfriend had called her out of the blue, and that she would be going out with her for a few drinks. She was not sure over the phone how to gauge the effect of the news on him; he did become somewhat abrupt, telling her to do as she pleased. She wanted to take it back, and tell him what she was up to, but the word "discretion" came into her mind. She hung up the phone, and continued dressing. In reality she had called her old friend, who was somewhat shocked to be hearing from her. Julie chose one of her new dresses, an emerald one, of somewhat sheer fabric, one that came down about a third of the way between her hips and knees. Bright red thong and lacy bra. A strand of pearls to rest on, and draw attention to, her exposed chest. A pair of fuck-me pumps. She applied the matching red lip gloss, that contrasted with her white skin, and tended to direct any man's thoughts to uses other than conversation for her mouth. She looked at herself in the mirror for a minute, a different woman from a few weeks before, happier. Sexier. The butterflies in her stomach told of her excitement and anticipation for her return home. * Julie held the glass of wine tightly in her hand; it seemed to give her comfort. It had been sometime since she had been in a bar without her husband, and since Katherine was divorced she was playing to the men around them. Kat was still as wild as she remembered, and was at this moment on the dance floor for the fifth time, and with the fifth different guy. She always seemed to have the knack for stringing along several guys at once. Julie was a different story. Her husband was her first and only boyfriend at college. Even now, the same guy was hitting on her that first approached her. She couldn't seem to get him to go away, and she was not the mean sort to tell him to get lost. Anyway, she was just biding her time, waiting for an appropriately late hour to go home and see what state her husband was in. Suddenly she felt a hand on her arm. "Would you care to dance, Julie?" It was Brad, one of the guys Kat had danced with earlier, definitely a player. Her first reaction was to politely decline, but she was so ready to escape her pursuer that she reconsidered and said that she would. Brad grabbed her arm, persuasively pulling her from the stool and led her onto the dance floor. The song upbeat, they both began to move with energy, and made what small talk they could above the din of the music. It felt good to move her body, after sitting on the sidelines for so long. It felt good to feel Brad's eyes on her body. She danced for him, wicked as it made her feel. She danced for him because the alcohol had relaxed her and his eyes were drinking her in, and she could barely stand it. She felt slightly out of control, and was a little relieved that the song was finally ending. A little disappointed as well. She began to make her way back to the stool when she felt his grip on her shoulder. The next song had begun, and he would not be denied a second dance. She wasn't really up to denying him anyway. The music slower, more intimate, Brad naturally pulled her close. She naturally let him do it. No small talk, she leaned her head against his chest so as not to look into his eyes. His cologne seemed intoxicating. She was losing control, gradually, and looking away from him seemed to restore some of her strength. Not enough to pull away. She felt her breasts flattened against his body. The warmth radiating to her. His hands slowly progressing downward, until they held her just below the top of her hips. They swayed to the music together. His hands moved further downward, opening up, planting themselves firmly on her ass. The feel of his hands on her ass seemed to make her more aware of her own sensual movements, hips gyrating with the music. Her silence implying consent, Brad began alternately caressing and squeezing. Julie held her breath, afraid to exhale, afraid of what might happen next. The song ended, she breathed, then breathed again. She dared look up, and saw his lust-filled eyes devouring her. Caught in his headlights, she could not move. His hands pressing against the fabric of her dress, she felt it inch higher, exposing more of her to the crowd. She felt a sudden pain in her foot as someone slightly more inebriated than her stumbled into the two of them. He apologized, mumbling, then went on his way. Julie saw her chance and quickly returned to the safety of the stool. She sat there, disturbed by her feelings, and slowly regained her resolve. Katherine noticed the change in her friend's manner, and it was not too long before they left the bar. Katherine took her home, and watched her as she walked up the sidewalk to her door, stumbling once. She was not sure if it was the alcohol, or the fact that her friend was not yet reaccustomed to walking in those heels. Julie walked into her home, and walked straight to her bedroom. She had planned to do this to arouse suspicion, but the nights events seemed to make her feel like she should sneak in. Her husband noticed, and followed her into the bedroom, having waited for her. She saw his eyes widen at the sight of her dress. He started to say something, then caught himself, then spoke. "Did you have a good time?" "It was OK. It was good to catch up with Kat," she lied. "Where did you go?" "To Horizon's, downtown. Kat seems to be a regular there and suggested it," she lied again. She knew the reputation of the club as a meat market. "Dressed like that?" She heard the desperation in his voice. "Yes, I couldn't go out looking like an old housewife, now could I? It would have embarrassed Kat." He started to say something else, but she cut him off. "I am going to take a bath, I need to get clean." She went into the bathroom, closed the door, and left him to consider those words. When she emerged an hour later he was already in bed. She quietly crawled in next to him. After a moment he turned to her and said, "I don't think you should go out dressed like that without me. Men get ideas." She kept her back to him. "Relax, dear, there was no harm. Nothing happened. Good night." She could feel him breathing heavily. "Why did she call you all of a sudden, she doesn't have the best reputation, you know." "I really am tired, honey, it was a long night, can't we talk about this in the morning?" Julie held her breath, she felt this was all or nothing. He grabbed her on the shoulder and forced her to face him. She could not hide the smile on her face, happy to have aroused the beast in him. The smile to him appeared a mock and it enraged him. "I will not have you going out of this house dressed like a common whore!" He grabbed her arm and tightly held it. "I don't know what you are talking about!" Her breath was quickening. "Yes you do!" He glared at her, losing control for possibly the first time in his life. "Yes you do" She tried to pull back from him; he grabbed her other arm and rolled over on top of her. "This is what men think when they see women dressed like you did tonight." He stretched her arms out wide, and buried his head in her neck. He moved down and put his mouth on her achingly stiff nipple, ignoring the fabric of her teddy that separated him from her skin. She pushed against him, not fighting, but transferring her own energy to him, encouraging the aggressor in him. She felt his hand between them, moving downward to move her panties aside to make room for his cock. She could literally feel the expression on his face when he realized she wasn't wearing panties. "You fucking whore," he mumbled angrily just before he inserted himself into her. She felt his roughness, his anger as he began to pound her. She reveled in this. She wrapped her legs around him, and felt like a bitch in heat. Their actions and reactions served to aggravate each other's condition. Her cunt wetter than it had been in ages, her pussy tightening on him more so than she ever had, he raged until his cum shot into her. Their bodies' motion continued long after their minds had climaxed; he came to a slow stop on top of her. Panting. She was still holding him tight to her. He rolled out of her embrace and over into the darkness and then remained motionless. He silently contemplated what came over him. She silently contemplated her next move, still aglow from the heat rapidly fading from what had been her most intense orgasm. * The colors of the leaves visible through the window had peaked. The view from her table had always served to comfort her, relax her. Her mind was elsewhere, though. Julie sat at her writing desk a woman transformed. Her clothes exuded a teasing sexuality, though it was not her intent to tease tonight. She had become uncharacteristically silent about her love life with her friends, though she now more than ever was concentrating on escalating it. The phone was ringing but she was not answering, satisfied to let her husband wonder rather than reassure him she was at home. She smiled as she excitedly opened the fourth envelope. "Dialogue" "Fourth, the beast by now is reeling, in a frenzy. Now there is much to gain. So much to the beast has been unspoken; now is the time to verbalize. Tell it in excruciating detail what you want from it. Direct its actions with the most coarse language. Where there was titillation before let it drink from your words tonight." Recipe for the Beast This would be a jolt she thought. She still preferred dumb-butt over the more widely accepted dumb-ass. She was even more likely to use 'behind' rather than butt when actually referring to her or anyone else's butt. But her blood, like rapids, had been flowing recently at a much more volatile pace. She practiced quietly to her self. "Ass. Breasts, no ... tits. Pussy." She felt herself blushing and tingling all at once. "Pussy. Cock." Like a first grader she began forming short sentences. "Put your cock in my pussy." She couldn't help giggling, intoxicated, but not by any alcohol. "Put your big fat cock in my wet pussy. Now!" She almost scared herself. Her hand moved downward, the base of her hand against her clit, and began pressing through the fabric of her dress. "Ummm. For me? You shouldn't have. Now take the love stick of yours and show me what a man you are." Julie smiled, and reluctantly removed her hand. She would wait, her self-denial and her anticipation of the night's activities would serve to inflame her into the necessary state to carry out the gypsy woman's fourth instruction. * Her husband came home a little earlier than usual, and seemed relieved, she thought, to find her at home. That relief seemed to dim somewhat when he noticed the contours of her body as outlined by her attire. "Did you go out?" "No, why do you ask?" Julie smilingly replied. "I called earlier, but there was no answer, and you appear to be dressed for going out." "No sweetheart, I heard the phone, but I was indisposed." Julie provided no more explanation than that. "I'm off to bed" "Why so early," her husband, puzzled, inquired. "Come see why." She sauntered up the stairs, not waiting for him to follow, but knowing he would. Julie sat at her writing table, looking towards the door way. Her eyes followed her husband as he walked into their bedroom. They stared at each other for what seemed like minutes. Julie broke the silence. "I need you to put your cock in my mouth." Her husband was speechless, eyes widening at the improbable words that came from his wife's lips. Julie stood up and began walking towards him. "I need you to put that big nasty cock of yours in my hungry mouth." Immobilized, all he could do was watch her as she knelt before him, her mouth now inches away from the crotch of his pants. She looked up at him, their eyes locked. She slowly licked her lips. Finally roused to action, his hand slightly shaking, he unzipped his pants, and pulled his stiffening cock into the open. Julie extended her tongue, touching the head, then engulfing it as her mouth followed. She clamped on him, as if afraid he might pull it from her. She sucked. She licked. She reveled in the sounds escaping from his mouth as she teasingly pressed her teeth slightly into his most valued flesh. She continued, massaging his hardness with her lips, feeling her own heat rushing to meet his. She pulled her mouth from his cock; he gasped. She smiled a wicked smile at him as she rose before him. "I need you to put that big nasty cock of yours in my pussy." She was breathing heavily, though not as much as he was. Her hands began rubbing on herself. "Don't you want to fuck me, you beast? Don't you want to ram that meat of yours into my steaming cunt?" She was mesmerized by the look in his eyes, the look of a cautious man being overcome by the inner beast. She raised her dress and exposed her cunt for him to see; she hadn't bothered with panties when she dressed earlier. The sight of her neatly and newly trimmed pubic hairs pushed the last remnants of the cautious man from her husband. He pushed her backwards, backwards, his momentum overcoming her stumbling as she finally landed in the relative safety of their bed. She lay there watching him as his clothes flew onto the floor. His cock still hard. His eyes still hard. He reached down, grabbing her shoulders, and rolled her over on her stomach. Julie shoved her cunt and ass up in the air as best she could to meet him. "My cunt is waiting ... my cunt is on fire!" The beast entered her fiery abyss, already pounding at an accelerated rate. She felt each forceful blow of his hips against her ass as proof positive of her success. As best she could she tried to meet his thrusts with backwards motion of her own. She could sense there was pain in the collisions, she could sense it was present, but it was overshadowed by the delirium of ecstasy unknown until now to her. The torrid pace unsustainable, she felt him thrust into her one last time and remain there, convulsing, expelling the poison from the beast back into her. He collapsed on top of her, his weight a burden she gladly bore. She smelled his effort, she felt his gasping for breath. She regained enough of her own composure to grind her ass back into his groin and utter the challenge once more. "There better be more where that came from. My cunt is not satisfied. My cunt needs your nasty cock again." In the darkness Julie could not see the eyes of her bewildered beast. She was content to feel his cock resurrecting. * The final Tuesday evening arrived, and Julie looked at the final envelope laying on her desk. She opened it, and pulled from it another envelope. Puzzled, she read the words on it. "The final step is only necessary for those who have not tasted success to this point. Following the instructions within can shatter the resolve of the most strict beastmaster. Proceed with trepidation, and only if you have nothing to lose." Julie paused, and reflected on the weeks just past. The two weeks since the last instruction had been the most sexually satisfying time in her life. Hands down. In her dreams she had not dared to hope for what she had so recently experienced. With her newfound knowledge she seemed able to call the beast at will. She wanted more. She wanted the beast to come of its own accord. "Proceed with trepidation, and only if you have nothing to lose." She read the last sentence again. Heady with her recent success, a gambler on a lucky streak, she opened the inner envelope. She pulled the card from the envelope with more than a little excitement. "Depravity" "Finally, if you are truly in need of additional instruction to revive the beast, do the following: climb into the gutter and bring the beast with you. The beast is teetering, push it over the edge with the extremes of sexual activity. Show the beast what it truly is, to gain its attention forever." Julie pondered the final instruction. This one seemed too much. She had awakened the beast in her husband to such an extent that their lives were changed for the better. Would the fifth step be too much? She wasn't entirely certain what the extremes might be. She was curious. * Julie looked at the covers of the videos; she was a little taken aback by the blatant pictures, but then this was an adult store. She looked around somewhat self-consciously, she was the only woman in the store, besides the dyke behind the counter. She picked up one of the videos - "101 Facial Cumshots." She looked at the wide-mouthed women pictured on the cover, waiting for more of the cum already partially obscuring their faces. She stared for a moment, then remembering where she was she put the video back on the shelf, and slowly looked about. She noticed a man further down the aisle, looking at her. Obviously looking at her. She walked to the next aisle, paused then picked up another video - "Stuff Your Ass 3." She looked at the woman on the cover, surrounded by six men of various shapes and colors. The woman's expression seemed so natural, as if she was posing for a family portrait instead of a nasty picture. She looked up and around. The man from before had followed her into this aisle, and again was staring at her. She turned back to her task, and placed the video back on the shelf. She wasn't dressed particularly sexily, and was not certain why she warranted the intense attention. She did not resent it. She looked down the row of videos in the direction of the man, shuffling her feet in that direction, stopping a few feet closer to him. Her hand ran along the tops of two or three videos before settling on one. She picked it up - "D.P Darlings." The woman featured on the cover was looking back at the man with his cock planted in her ass. She couldn't see, though undoubtedly could feel the man below her with his cock in her cunt. Julie put the video back, but looked at the video cover for a moment longer. She glanced to her left. The man had moved closer to her, obviously ignoring the video in his hand. Julie moved slowly down the aisle in his direction, scanning the videos, moving slightly back as she passed him. She passed close enough to smell his after shave. She stopped for a moment on the other side of him, then turned and walked over to the next aisle. She picked up another video - "Weird and Wacky." Even after the others this one shocked her. On the cover was an obscenely obese man, naked, his cock almost lost in his girth. A second picture showed a young woman, maybe 18, featured as if the movie would show the two together. "No way in hell," she thought to herself. She turned the video over. On the back were pictures of the young woman sucking the cock of the fat man, and in various submissive positions to the man. She looked long and hard. The pictures were too much, the acts themselves had not gotten too her, but the disparity in looks, the sheer degradation involved seem to be ... extreme. She put the video back, and began walking to the door. She collided with the stranger who had been eying her, and their eyes locked momentarily. She saw all the confidence in the world in his eyes, the confidence born of a man who sees a sure thing. Julie stepped to the side and walked on out the door, neither apologizing to the man for the accidental impact, nor for the somewhat intentional tease. * Her husband looked at her from across the table, eying her warily, something he had been doing more and more frequently as of late. He was not quite sure what to make of the change, the transformation he had watched occur in his wife these past few weeks. Their sex life had gone to a new level; part of him welcomed that, part questioned what had prompted it. He asked the normal dinner question with a hesitancy that seemed ill-suited to such a benign query. "What did you do today?" Julie stared at him, having waited for this. "I went to the video store." Somewhat relieved her husband continued, "Did you get anything any good?" "Just some ideas." Julie sat back in her chair. His face puzzled, her husband tensed. "Ideas?" "Yes, ideas," Julie answered. "One of the videos was about women getting cum sprayed all over their face." Her husband choked on his food, then looked into his wife's eyes. They were intense. She seemed to be in another world. Julie continued, "Another one was about women getting cocks in both their ass and cunt." "What video store did you go to," he stammered. "The adult store down on Cheshire Bridge." "Who did you go with?" "By myself." Her husband's mind quickly imagined what the men in the store were thinking when she walked in alone and perused the videos. He knew what men thought at times like those. "What prompted you to do such a thing?" "I was horny," Julie replied, as easily as if she had said she was short or tall or tired. "I was curious about those videos men watch but never tell women about." Julie stood up, then walked around the table to her husband. She inserted herself between him and the table, taking up residence in his lap. She leaned her face next to his and whispered, "Tell me which ones you like." She could feel his breaths getting heavier. "Tell me about the fantasies that are locked in your head." She adjusted her position, not to make herself more comfortable, but to rub her ass against his cock. It was hardening. She writhed a bit more. "Do you like the ones where the men spray their cum on the women's pretty faces? Do you want to spray your cum on my pretty face?" She ground her ass into his groin a bit, in a circular motion. Once. Twice. "Do you like the ones where the men stick their cocks in the women's asses? Would you like to stick your cock in mine?" She felt his hands grip her waist. "Maybe you like the ones where the woman teases strangers. Would you like for me to tease strangers?" She felt one hand rise to her breasts, groping her. "Do you get off watching those videos where the woman gets fucked by many men all at once? Would you like for your innocent little wife to get gang-banged?" He practically ripped the buttons off as his hand moved inside her blouse, eager to touch her skin. "A cock in each hole, baby? A cock in her cunt ... a cock in her ass ... a cock in her mouth, and all you can hear is her muffled moans. Would you like to see your wife like that? Would you like to see me like that?" Julie felt herself being lifted, up onto the table. The brief fiery glimpse she caught of her husband's eyes told her what she should expect. He ripped open the few remaining buttons of her blouse, angrily groping her breasts, pinching at her nipples, relishing the winces in her face with each twist. He pushed her flat on her back, and reached for each leg, quickly stroking her upward from mid-thigh to mid-calf. Suddenly his hands shot outward, taking her legs along, and she though she was going to split. This sudden action forced her skirt higher, enough for him to see she was again panty-less. This drove his rage further. "Is this what you want, you fucking whore?" he undid his pants furiously, and pulled his erect cock out. He slammed into her, his cock missing the target first and sliding along the top of her clit. That sensation riveted her to the table. He quickly pulled back, and this time struck his mark. The heat of her cunt compelling him, he raged and fucked, slamming against her and the table, oblivious to the pain he was causing himself as his thighs impacted the wooden edge. His arms wrapped around her legs, he pulled her to him with each thrust forward. She was helplessly sliding back and forth on the table, dishes moving everywhere. He pushed and pushed her, until he was on the brink, then he pulled his cock from her cunt. He grabbed her hair, and twisted her around on the table, until her head came near the edge. He stuck his cock against her flushed cheek, and before she could turn to take it in her mouth, his frustrations exploded onto her. Onto her mouth, her nose, her eyes, down her neck and onto her breasts. Much of it escaped from her and soiled the tablecloth and the dishes. He looked at her there, lying amidst the ruins of dinner, his cum accenting her beautifully glistening body, his breath slowing, he muttered, "Is this what you wanted?" She watched silently as he walked away, quietly mouthing one word again and again - "Yes." * He folded the note and put it back in his pocket. Unbelieving. Two months ago this note would have floored him; today it did two things. It aroused him, and, because of that arousal. it troubled him. He went over the invitation in his mind: "Your cunt wife needs your cock now; she'll be waiting for your meat at the Buford Highway Twin Cinema at 2:00 p.m. sharp. Don't make her wait long." The note had to be from her, although it was worded as if someone else sent it. His wife was indeed someone else now. He slipped on his jacket and walked out his office door. * Julie made her way along the row, conscious of the stares, appreciative, feeling sexy though she was still bundled in her coat. She settled into a seat off to the side near the wall. Soon a man moved into the same row, blocking her exit. She looked at him briefly, then her gaze fell on the screen. The movie already running, the young blond on the screen was muttering obscene words under her breath as she played with her pussy for her lover. The girl was rubbing her cunt furiously, and Julie had to fight herself to keep from emulating the slut. She glanced at the man beside her; he was massaging himself through his pants while looking alternatively at her and the screen. Julie glanced at her watch, it was yet a few minutes until two. She looked back at the screen; another man had joined the the scene and the blonde was performing for two men now. She was rolling her nipples in her fingers while eying the men hungrily. Julie parted her coat; she had worn a flimsy outfit beneath. She couldn't keep her hands from caressing her body, quickly finding their way between her legs. She noticed a man moving a couple of rows in front of her, looking back at her, sitting awkwardly so that he could see her. He strained to read the street addresses as he hurried down Buford Highway, it was nearly two o'clock. He wondered what gave his wife the idea of visiting an adult theater. He saw a marquee up ahead. As he turned into the parking lot, he wondered if she had been here before. Julie could feel her heat transferring to her palm. Her nipples achingly projected into her blouse, no bra to restrain them. A third man had appeared on screen, taking up position behind the blond, moving in close, laying his cock on her shoulder. She looked back at him, not shocked, not surprised, but like a woman who had just received a diamond ring. "For me?" she purred. Julie purred along with her, sensations pulsing through her body. The smell of the theater, a mixture of scents meant to mask, and scents unmaskable. Her own scent among the potpourri. She gazed at the man in front of her, locking with his eyes, observing the the movement of his arm that could only mean one thing. She glanced to her side and saw that the man had pulled his cock from his pants, with no shame, only a primal lust driving his hand. She turned a little red, her heat consuming her, her sexuality's affect on the men feeding on itself. He entered the theater, standing in the back to let his eyes adjust. He saw the blond on screen, devouring one man's cock while two others played with various portions of his body. Such a scene would have made him hard, if he had not been already. But the hardness of his cock contrasted with the heaviness in his heart. He was obviously troubled. Julie could feel him move in behind her. The cologne her husband had splashed on this morning was heavy in the air. She had often wanted him to try a new one, but the smell now was comforting. She sat their, pretending not to notice him. She increased the pace of her rubbing, her legs now up on the backs of the chairs in front of her. No panties blocked her way, she had come prepared. She could feel his head next to her, could feel him looking over her shoulder. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feelings flooding her. From behind her the hand began caressing her hair, playing with her ear, moving along her face to her lips. She eagerly sucked them into her mouth, teasingly biting into them. He pulled them from her mouth, and gripped her hair. He was now standing behind her, his cock already out. He twisted her head around and onto his cock. She sucked him immediately, her head moving quickly back and forth. She twisted around in her seat, her mouth still glued to his cock. He made his way through an empty row in the center of the theater, looking for her. He noticed a group gathering over to the side. From what he could see a woman was there, the center of attention of some perverts. He moved out of the row into the aisle, and headed down towards the front. He was almost knocked over by a man hurrying to get a position near the slut. He looked over, then looked again. "Julie?" Julie heard her name. She continued lavishing attention on his cock. She could feel the men closing in on her, one's hands having already found the bare skin of her ass. She heard her name again, and looked upward at him. The eyes that looked down at her were of a beast, but not her husband. A sudden jolt joined the sexual sensations reverberating through her body. She glanced to her side and caught a glimpse of her husband, standing in the aisle, barely visible behind a stranger standing with his cock in hand. While her mind quickly considered her situation, she felt the stranger explode in her mouth, his cum overfilling and spilling out onto her chin. Recipe for the Beast She froze there, even as another stranger moved in. Her husband gave her the look of a man distressed, and she watched him turn away, walking to the exit. Her mind yelled at her to move, yell after him, anything to stop him. Her cunt was now entertaining a new visitor, however, and the volatile mixture of contradictory feelings was exploding withing her. A burst of emotions served only to immobilize her. Another cock found its way to her mouth just as the curtains closed on her husband's exit. * Julie sat back in the chair, having sucked the cum from the last man's cock. Her hand wiped her lips, partly from habit. She glanced at the blond on the screen still servicing the men. It had been months since her husband had left her, unable to be the beast she needed. She had been here quite frequently, searching. She looked down at her skirt, soiled by fluids of her own making, and others. Sometimes she convinced herself this was the worst thing that could ever happen to any woman. She heard the man take his place behind her, head demanding her attention. Other times, other times she was not so sure. Julie turned to face the stranger and tormentor.