23 comments/ 61071 views/ 21 favorites She Says She Loves Me By: LynnGKS My name is Buddy Carlin and I'm laying here in my king sized bed watching my older brother Tom, fuck my wife. They're right next to me and he's pounding away like a stud and she's gruntin and sweatin and talkin dirty. She says she loves me, but she's been fuckin Tom regular for months. I'm laying here bouncing up and down in the bed waiting for him to finish her off and remembering how it all got started. It's a complicated story, but I re-live it in my mind every time I watch them fuck. My brother Tom and I grew up in San Diego and graduated from USC a year apart with majors in computer technology and minors in business. Then Tom and I both took a big risk. We got jobs with a young, developing tech company making almost no salary but getting lots of stock options. The company had an IPO after a couple of years and our stock options really paid off. I was able to marry my college girlfriend, Trish, and buy a really nice house in the suburbs with a pool and hot tub and a nice exercise room. Tom bought a condo in a luxury complex and we saw a lot of each other both at work and in our off hours. Tom had a long time serious relationship with Janice, a gal he met in college. Janice worked at the Walker Art Museum and bounced back and forth from San Diego to London working on a Masters degree in Art History. Presently she was there for six months finishing her degree. Tom and I and Trish were spending a lot of time together while she was gone. My marriage was great except for one thing. When I fucked Trish I had an orgasm before she did and then I wasn't much use to her with a droopy dick. But we got along pretty well with me eating pussy and her using her vibrator. She had some really good orgasms – or so I thought at the time. Besides, Trish always said that "orgasms are over-rated" and she could never see why some of her girlfriends talked so much about the orgasms they had with certain guys. She had had sex with two or three guys in college and never had orgasms with any of them, so she had good reason to think the whole thing was over-rated. I had looked up my endurance problem on the net and found out it was called "premature ejaculation." Knowing what it was didn't help very much because it was still frustrating for me not to be able to fuck Trish long enough to make her come. Trish was a very horny woman and what happened, in retrospect, was really not very surprising. Tom was over at our place one Saturday night for dinner and afterward we smoked a lot of pot and had a lot to drink and decided to get in the hot tub – naked of course. We had been naked in the hot tub before, but somehow that night was different because we were all three really stoned out of it. Trish is a beautiful woman with big boobs and great legs and sun-bronzed skin except where a tiny bikini left her creamy white. She has the kind of thick, curly-haired beaver that most guys like to eat. Tom and I are both six-two with good muscle tone, hair on our chests, and we are both reasonably well hung. That first time he fucked her I know it was completely accidental. It was due to a combination of things: the booze and the pot and the fact that Tom was horny because Janice had been in London for a month. Trish was horny because I hadn't eaten pussy for several days and I simply lost control of myself. The first time may have been accidental, but from then on it was Trish's idea. Now, months after he started fuckin her, I'm laying here in bed watching them fuck and remembering back to that first time. We had gotten out of the hot tub and laid on the big soft mat next to the tub. Trish was jiggling her tits and flashing her bush, and spreading her legs. She was laughing and moving around a lot giving us a great view of her body and I saw Tom staring at tits and pussy just like I was. All three of us were laughing and joking and drinking and Tom was filling us in on how Janice was doing in London, but he kept staring at Trish's body. I wasn't really thinking about Tom – I was thinking about fucking Trish. She was turning me on. When Tom's story about Janice was finished, I started to get a hard on. Trish saw it and reached over and pulled me close and spread her legs. She was just having fun. It was as much my fault as hers or Tom's because I should never have fucked her in front of Tom. That was an open invitation for him to enjoy sloppy seconds. I should have known that Tom would fuck her because he was horny from missing Janice. But the booze and the grass must have gotten to me, because I climbed into the saddle and in about two or three minutes, like always, I had pumped my load. I was satisfied but, of course, Trish was not. She was still laughing and kidding around. Trish rolled me off of her and when I looked at Tom I saw that he had a firm erection, standing straight up – almost quivering. She was as drunk and stoned as I was and, without a pause, laughing, Trish grabbed his hand and pulled him over between her legs, her knees high in the air. "Do me," she said. She had a big smile on her face. She was expecting a laughing, friendly fuck. Trish and I had never done any swinging but I could see her thinking that, after all, Tom was my brother so let him get his rocks off. It was a casual thing – nothing special – she was just stoned and happy and wanted to fuck some more and Tom had an erection and I didn't. But what happened turned out to be a big surprise for both Trish and me. It turned out to be far more than a casual fuck. It was a fuck that changed both our lives. He slipped that big dick into her easily. She was wet from me, and her own secretions always made her pussy drip. He started to fuck her hard – much harder than I usually did. I watched him pound her, with the hazy semi-consciousness from the booze and pot. Tom supported his weight on his hands and just pounded away. Trish had her legs spread wide and her feet high in the air, bouncing to the rhythm of Tom's powerful thrusts. He just kept on pounding her – steady and non-stop like a steam hammer. The look on her face changed from a stoned smile to a look of surprise. She looked over at me, with an expression that said, "What the hell is this?" and then she looked back up at Tom's face. This was definitely not the fuck that she had expected, but it must have felt good because Trish closed her eyes and in a few moments she began humping eagerly. It was hard to judge time because I was stoned, but it had to be a long time - maybe ten or fifteen minutes. When would he finish? I wondered. Trish was just laying there and taking it. How long can he keep on pounding her like this? As this hazy thought went through my stoned head, Trish groaned, dropped her feet to the mat to get better leverage, and began to pump her ass really hard. Trish had never pumped like that for me with her feet down for leverage. She had never grunted either but now she was grunting loudly - animal grunts – grunting like a whore every time she took that big cock deep. Her eyes were clinched tightly shut and her face was a mask of lust and pleasure. I had never seen her this way in all our married life. Then she began to talk and mumble incoherently. "Oh God – fuck me – Ahhh - fuck me hard – Ohhh – Arrr - don't stop – do me – I need it – do me - make me feel it! Fuck me deep!" Trish never talked dirty when we fucked or even when I ate pussy. This was something completely new and different. Watching it was starting to sober me up. Both of them were sweating now, even though the air was cool. I could hear their sweaty bodies slapping together as he fucked her. She was fucking back, matching him thrust for thrust, with her feet on the floor allowing her to lift her ass high in the air to take that big dick deep. Watching them fuck this first time, listening to her grunts, I realized that he was doing something to that pussy that I could never do and, as I watched, I had the scary feeling that he was gonna enjoy that pussy again. No way could I ever fuck her like that – the way she obviously wanted – needed - to get fucked. My little two-minute fuck was never gonna satisfy this horny bitch ever again. I moved closer and laying there supported by my elbow I watched, inches away, in a stoned daze, as his cock plunged in and out of her. I could hear the wet squishy sounds that a horny pussy makes when it's getting what it needs. I could see and hear his big balls slapping her in the ass. Then after another few minutes – by now it had to be over fifteen minutes – Trish's body started to tremble and she arched her back to lift her tits up to Tom's hairy chest. She took a deep breath and held it, and I knew she was starting her orgasm. I had always given her gentle, soft orgasms when I ate pussy. But this was a far more powerful and violent orgasm than anything I had ever seen her have. Her whole body seemed to react to the contractions of her pussy. Tom's rhythm changed too and he pounded her even harder than before and now Tom started to grunt and then I saw his balls lift up high and tight in his scrotum and the base of his cock began to contract rhythmically as he pumped his load deep into her pussy. I realized that her contracting pussy must have stimulated him to have his orgasm at just the right moment to please them both. He pumped for a very long time – it was a massive load - and then they became still and silent as he collapsed between her legs. They held that position for a full minute, then both let out big sighs and Tom spoke as if to no one in particular. "Jesus! That's good pussy." Her eyes still clinched tight Trish held his face in both hands close to hers and said, "Oh God! Thank you!" She kissed him long and hard. Then Tom rolled off of her, his cock soft and dripping, and both of them lay on their backs with their eyes closed, breathing heavily. Trish lay panting, with one leg stretched straight out on the mat and the other spread, knee bent, so her pussy was clearly visible. I watched a large stream of thick, creamy cum run slowly out between her engorged labia, down over her asshole, and drip off, forming a puddle on the mat. Her pussy was spread wide. Tom had used it hard. Her inner lips were engorged and hanging out, loose, and they were covered with a foamy mixture of Tom's cum and her own copious secretions. His sticky cum was spread over both her inner thighs and soaked the curly rim of black hair that came down on both sides of her pussy from her beaver and circled around between her pussy and her asshole. I had eaten that pussy many times when it was clean and tight. I had read on the Internet that some guys liked to eat a freshly fucked pussy. But, no way could I do that now. Looking at that big, gaping, engorged, dripping pussy, the thought was repulsive! I will never forget how she had thanked him, how he had pounded that pussy like he owned it, how her orgasm was bigger than anything I had ever given her. I remembered how she had pumped her ass and I knew that something very special had happened that had changed our relationship forever. Where would this thing go? I lay there, helpless, and wondered. We three lay without talking for almost a half-hour and then, still not talking, we soaked briefly in the hot tub to wash off the juices, climbed out, toweled off, and walked into the house. There simply didn't seem to be anything to say. Trish and I went into the master bedroom and Tom went into the guest room and we all went to sleep – "passed out" might be a more accurate way to describe it. The next morning when Trish and I woke up, Tom had already left. We had coffee in the breakfast room – still not saying anything. Finally, as Trish poured our second cups of coffee, she spoke softly. "I'm sorry Buddy. I was just laughing and having a little fun. Then the booze and the pot did something to me and then I did something ugly and dirty. I really don't know why I did it - but it won't happen again. I promise, darling, it will never happen again." I didn't answer her. I knew it was as much my fault as hers. I had started the sex. She had continued it, almost innocently. But then Tom had given her something she'd never had before – something that I could never give her. How the hell, I asked myself, could I ever give her sex like that? It wasn't Tom's cock – mine was as big as his. It wasn't his masculinity – my muscular build and chest hair were as good as his. It wasn't his energy - I could jog five miles as fast as he could. But he had SEXUAL stamina – a stamina that I could not match. He lasted as long as she needed him to last to give her satisfaction. What the hell good was a little two-minute fuck compared to what he gave her for over a quarter of an hour? As these thoughts went through my head Trish repeated, "It won't happen again. I promise. I love you Buddy. I promise!" Wednesday afternoon I came home early from work. As I entered the house from the garage, it was very quiet. Trish was not in the kitchen and I stood for a moment listening. She must be out, I thought. Then I heard a low humming sound. I walked toward the master bedroom and the sound got louder. When I looked through the door I saw Trish on her back in bed, stark naked, knees up and legs spread wide, holding her largest vibrator in her right hand buried half way into her pussy and playing with her tits with her left hand. She was humping her hips and fucking herself vigorously with the vibrator, working her thumb on her clit to transmit the vibrations. She was grunting obscenely like she had grunted with Tom. Her eyes were clinched tightly and she was panting through her wide-open mouth as she worked for her orgasm. Her skin glistened with sweat. Jesus! The bitch was thinking about fucking Tom. She had to be. I'd never found her doing this before. I turned and went quietly back to the garage and drove away. She wanted to fuck him! She was gonna fuck him! Promise or no promise she was gonna fuck him. She was living a fantasy now, but I was gonna watch that fantasy happen for real in three short days. The next Saturday night there was a tension in the air. We went to dinner at a popular restaurant and when we got back to the house we went out on the patio for a drink. Tom told us another story about Janice. Then there was a long, uncomfortable silence. Trish broke the silence. "Hot tub anybody?" Tom laughed. "I thought you'd never ask," he said. We stripped and got into the tub and we all got very quiet. It was like we three were in a trance. We drank and smoked, silently. Not a word was spoken, but the air was thick with tension. We all felt it. I could see in her eyes that she wanted to fuck him. It was lust! Pure unadulterated lust! The longer we soaked in the tub, the more she wanted to fuck him. Her eyes sent him that message. And he sent the message back. We got out of the hot tub and onto the mat. Not a word was spoken, but just like the first time, she pulled me close. Only this time she was very serious – not giggling and smiling - and I was so nervous that she had to stroke my dick to get me hard. She did, but she was looking at his eyes, passionately, while she stroked my cock. She pulled me between her legs and I started to fuck her. I made up my mind that this time I would hold my orgasm as long as I could. I tried to fuck her hard like I saw Tom do her. I felt my juice rise and tried my best to hold it back – I tightened myself as much as I could but it kept on coming - it was hopeless. It was less than two minutes before I pumped my useless load into a friendly, but never passionate, pussy. It seemed her eyes never left his, even when she was fucking me. It was degrading to become aroused and ejaculate helplessly when I knew it was Tom she really wanted to fuck – but I couldn't help it. Just like the first time, she pulled Tom between her legs and he pounded that pussy like he owned it. This time I looked at my watch and it was well over fifteen minutes before Trish had another big orgasm and said, "Thank you" and then kissed him. Except for the "Thank you" the whole thing was a wordless exercise – almost a sexual ritual. This was not casual sex – this was serious fucking. There was no conversation afterward between Trish and me in our room. Tom left before we got up the next morning. But, unlike the first time, at breakfast coffee, Trish didn't say she was sorry and she didn't say it wouldn't happen again. And that was good, because I knew that it was going to happen again. She needed it. The next Saturday night we went to a movie that all our friends were talking about and on the way home we laughed and joked about the sex scene in the movie. My mind went fast forward to the sex scene I was about to witness when we got home. Tom filled us in on Janice's progress in London. We went out on the patio to have a drink. As before, we talked for a while, then things got very silent. There was no need for Trish to suggest the hot tub. When there seemed nothing more to say, we got up wordlessly and stripped down buck-naked. This time she wasn't drunk or stoned. Trish just wanted to fuck. Tom had a week's worth of cum putting pressure on his balls. And I was a helpless husband with a horny hot wife. It became a regular, wordless Saturday night ritual – we all knew Tom was gonna fuck her, even though we pretended we didn't. Sometimes we went out to dinner or to a movie. Sometimes Trish cooked – she was a gourmet cook. Sometimes we had a few drinks on the patio – sometimes a lot of drinks – sometimes we added pot – sometimes we didn't – sometimes we stayed on the mat – sometimes we went to bed. But what always happened – always - was that Tom fucked her brains out and she screamed with that big orgasm. We pretended it was a fresh idea each time it happened – an accident – a surprise. I was so ashamed of my pathetic performance compared to Tom that I acted like I was more drunk and stoned than I really was. Most nights I did my usual two or three minutes – I gave up trying to hold it back. Some nights I was impotent and Trish just sucked my dick for a few minutes before she pulled Tom over and fucked him. And this Saturday night it was happening again as I lay in bed next to them remembering the way it began and waiting for her to scream with that explosive orgasm that I knew was just moments away. And tomorrow would be just like every other Sunday before it. Trish and I woke up every Sunday morning pretending nothing unusual had happened the night before and we went through the day not talking about it. We didn't talk about it at all during the week, even when we both knew he was gonna fuck her again the next Saturday. During the second month, Tom and I were having lunch one day and he was describing to me another conversation he had had with Janice – they talked regularly using Skype, which was a free way to talk and see each other over the Internet. Janice was making progress toward her degree. "Janice sends you her best," Tom said. "And she keeps reminding me that I need to say thank you for what you and Trish are doing for me. She's really grateful. She was terrified that I would start fucking some slut and move her into my condo. She keeps telling me I'm a horny bastard who needs user-friendly pussy on a regular basis." Jesus! I thought. Janice knows he's fucking Trish regular and she's happy about it. What the hell do you say when a guy thanks you for letting him fuck your wife? I wasn't "letting" him fuck her – Trish was the one who made her pussy user-friendly. Janice was right about one thing though – my brother was a horny bastard. "Well Tom, Trish enjoys taking care of your needs. She doesn't want you to hit the streets any more than Janice does. You're welcome to come over every Saturday night." She Says She Loves Me That was true but it was a really big understatement. Trish more than enjoyed servicing Tom. In fact, truth to tell, she desperately needed to fuck him. Shit! She'd fucked him over a half-dozen times already and there were dozens of Saturdays left before Janice got back from London. "Well, both Janice and I are very grateful," Tom said. "When she gets back we plan to get married." "Congratulations," I said. "I've got some advice for you Bro," Tom said. "You need to lighten up on the booze and pot. It takes the lead out of your pencil. I've noticed you're not up to standard, lately." Jesus, Tom still didn't know I was doing the best I could. He thought my two-minute fuck was the result of too much liquor! Well, maybe it was better to let him think that. The last thing I wanted my brother to know was that he was satisfying my wife like I never could. It was two months after he started fucking her that Trish and I finally talked about what was happening. I had to go up to Silicon Valley near Frisco on business for a week. When I got back, Trish picked me up at the airport and I knew right away that something was wrong. When we got home she took me out to the patio and poured me a drink. "The sun is under the yardarm somewhere," she said, with a chuckle. "We have to talk. I love you and I have a confession to make." This was not a good beginning, I thought. What did she have to confess? She hit me with it straight. "I tried to screw Tom Saturday while you were in Frisco. I called and casually invited him over for a drink and said I had some really good grass. He knew I was ready to fuck him, but I don't think he knew how horny I was." "And what happened?" I asked. "He wouldn't come over. He thanked me and said he appreciated the invitation. He said Janice wanted to be sure that he had thanked both you and me. He said he had thanked you at lunch the other day. And then he said it's okay when we're all three stoned and you can't fuck because of the grass, but he said you're his brother and it was not a good idea for him to start fuckin his brother's wife when you're not around. What he said made me feel like a whore!" Suddenly it hit me again, like at lunch. Tom had no idea that I could never satisfy my wife – drunk or sober. He thought we were doing him a favor while Janice was in London. For him it had nothing to do with my marriage – we were just servicing a horny guy whose gal was not around. There was no thought in his mind of causing me pain. He had not the slightest idea of what this was doing to Trish and me. Trish continued, "Look baby I love you but I simply can not go on this way. I get horny. I love you – I really do love you - but you can't fuck me long enough to make me come the way Tom does. And I can't stop fucking him because I need that big orgasm! You gotta get some help. We gotta get you fixed so you can fuck." I sat silently, thinking about what she had said and about our situation. "You need to see a sex councilor or a someone who can help you get over this thing," she pleaded. She was right. We hit the net – it wasn't something you ask your friends about. We wanted someone reputable, someone with an MD degree, someone who had published scientific papers in established journals. Finally, after a lot of reading and searching we selected a couple of board certified psychiatrists who specialized in sex counseling and had published research on the subject. The first visit was a nightmare! It was a husband-wife team and I had to meet with the wife, Dr. Kelly-Moore. Her maiden name was Kelly and her husband's name was Moore. She was friendly and professional and tried to put me at ease, but how the hell do you tell a woman you just met that your dick won't stay hard? I just told her I couldn't last long enough to satisfy my wife. She reassured me that this was a common problem and usually treatable and gave me some advice about things to try like masturbation before intercourse. She gave me a prescription for a local anesthetic cream to reduce the sensation on my dick. She also taught me some exercises to strengthen the muscle that pumps out the semen. She talked about something called serotonin that I didn't understand and said that there was a new drug - Priligy I think she called it - that was not yet approved by the FDA, but might work if I still needed something in the future. She wanted to see me again in a week. Trish and I tried what she had recommended all week. I practiced the exercises with Trish watching. This was humiliating and painful because we had been pretending that she wasn't getting fucked big time. Now we had to talk about fucking openly every night in bed and she was comparing me to Tom. Masturbation didn't work. I came just as fast the second time. The cream didn't work. If I used a little it didn't slow me down and if I used a lot I couldn't get it up. It was embarrassing to fuck my wife and ejaculate helplessly while she looked up at me with an expression of worry on her face and no arousal whatsoever. It didn't help that I had seen how much she enjoyed fucking a real man. I began to think of myself as less than a real man. The second visit to Dr. Kelly-Moore was on Monday and as I sat in the waiting room I remembered the pleasure that Tom had given Trish the previous Saturday. I wanted to be able to do that. I had to learn to do that. I decided I had to tell the doctor the whole truth. And I tried. I really did. But I couldn't get it out. I revealed only enough for the good doctor to get a glimpse of my problem. "I understand why you have trouble talking about this. It's very personal. Have you ever been hypnotized?" "No," I answered. "Well," she said, "I think you might tell your story better under hypnosis. My husband does that and it often works to get the whole truth, as well as to help with therapy when the time comes. Post-hypnotic suggestion, you understand. Of course, not everyone can be hypnotized. Only about a third of patients can be taken down really deep enough to be effective for therapy." After lunch I went back to see the husband, Dr. Moore. He gave me a shot to relax me and then, talking slowly and softly, he talked me down to a place I never knew existed. I was in the doctor's office, laying on a couch, and in my bedroom at the same time with my mind shifting back and forth from one place to the other and answering questions and listening to his soft words. When he woke me up I realized that I had told him everything – every embarrassing, humiliating, intimate, sexual, private, personal detail. The next Monday, I saw Dr. Kelly-Moore again. She had listened to the tape of what I had said under hypnosis and discussed my case with her husband. I sat there in deep embarrassment because now she knew all of my personal secrets. What must she think of a man who cannot give his wife the pleasure that his brother can? "You are an excellent hypnotic subject and that will help in therapy," she said. "But you have a problem. You have a bad problem. And a lot depends on your wife. I need to interview her." I arranged for Trish to see her the next day and when I returned on Wednesday for follow-up. I was greeted with a smile. "Your wife loves you. That's over half the problem solved." "What do you mean?" I asked. "Of course she loves me!" "Let me explain," said Dr. Kelly-Moore, with a chuckle. "Wives getting sexual pleasure from men other than their husbands are extremely common. I see them every day. Usually I see a couple after the wife gets caught with another guy – the guy next door or a guy at work or a guy down the street or sometimes all three. They want me to help fix the situation." "Isn't that my problem?" I asked. "Not at all. Your wife loves you. She wants to enjoy sex with you. That's not what I usually see. Usually the wife has no interest whatsoever in sex with her husband. She just wants to get out of the problem she got herself into by getting caught in flagrant delicto." "In what?" I asked, never having heard the words before. "In flagrant delicto. It's Latin. It means getting caught during the sex act – usually by the husband. Catching your wife naked, straddling the guy next door and pounding away tends to cause bad feelings between husband and wife – and I'm supposed to make those bad feelings go away. Your case is not remotely similar to what I usually see." "How so?" I asked. "Look Mr. Carlin, it's this way. Your wife loves you. She wants you to be able to give her the same sexual pleasure that Tom does. She feels profoundly guilty about her sexual needs. She told me that this new powerful orgasm that she gets from sustained intercourse was like a narcotic drug that she was addicted to – like a crack addict. She's trapped. She just can't stop. She knows it hurts you and she doesn't want to hurt you, but she simply can't stop." "She was embarrassed beyond belief when her need caused her to proposition your brother and when he refused to go to bed with her without you there, she said it made her feel like a whore. She justifies the relationship to herself as some kind of swingers' threesome, which it clearly is not. It's way different from that." "I tried to explain to her that some women have very potent sexual desires that can control their lives – make them do things they otherwise would never do. I tried to explain that if you had not happened to have premature ejaculation, this thing would never have been discovered in the first place – that it was not her fault – nor yours either, for that matter." "Can you do something to lower her sexual desires?" I asked. "That's the last thing we want to do. What we want to do is teach YOU how to satisfy those desires," Dr. Kelly-Moore responded emphatically. Then Dr. Kelly-Moore spent a long time emphasizing that everything - even that serotonin thing - depended on my self-confidence. Fear of failure, she said, was what caused my problem. Every time I failed, it reinforced that fear and made things worse. She said this several times in different ways and slowly I realized what she was really telling me. She was saying, "Just lay there and watch Tom fuck her – don't try to fuck her and fail to give her an orgasm with Tom watching." I worried about this all week. I was afraid to tell Trish, but Tom was coming over Saturday night. Finally, on Friday night as we were having cocktails on the patio, I told her what Dr. Kelly-Moore had said about failure reinforcing my problem. She asked me to repeat exactly what the doctor had said and then she stared down at the table with a sad look on her face, thinking. Then she spoke softly. "She's telling you to just watch Tom fuck me. Not fuck me yourself and fail to make me come." I nodded. "That's exactly what she's telling me." Trish had tears in her eyes. She took a sip of her drink and was silent for several minutes. Then she exploded in anger – anger directed, not at me, but at herself. "Jesus! I can't do that. I enjoy fucking you because I love you. It's tender and sweet, and even when you don't make me come, it still makes me feel good somehow. Yeah I know I'm looking at his dick and thinking about fucking him after you finish but ... but ... still ... Dammit!" She continued in a softer tone. "I've been telling myself it's just swinging. It's just a threesome and lots of people do threesomes. It's okay if it's a threesome! But what we have is not really an okay threesome and just him and me is gonna be especially not okay. It's not what normal people do. Normal couples don't ... I mean ... a loving wife doesn't fuck some guy while her husband just lays there and watches her get banged till she cums!" She thought for a moment before she continued, shouting once again. "My God! I kidded myself into believing that we were swinging and you had your turn and then he had his. But it's not that way at all. He's just fuckin me cause I'm a horny slut who needs it, and he's just having his fun with a user-friendly pussy. And you! My husband! You have to lay there and watch me pump my slutty ass and watch me enjoy it. Jesus! It's like I'm kicking you in the balls!" "Calm down! Calm down," I said. "He's not fucking you because you're a horny slut. He thinks you're doing him a favor while Janice is in London. He thanked me for that last month at lunch – I told you – remember? And later he thanked you." Her tears were flowing freely now. She wasn't listening to me. "Why the hell do I have to have the sex drive of a God damned mountain goat? I'm just a horny little bitch who can't help wanting to enjoy the "big O" - I hate myself for what this is doing to you." I realized that the little swingers' device she had been using to make this relationship seem somehow "okay" in her own mind, had been stripped away. She now was starting to feel like a slut. "It's not just your fault baby. It's me too. I can't give you what you need," I said softly. She shook her head no. "You're seeing a doctor about that. I'm just a slut who can't wait for her husband to get well – a slut who wants to fuck your brother." "You're not a slut baby. We need to do what Dr. Kelly-Moore says. I'll just watch." "I can't stand to fuck him if you just watch. I mean ... you know," she said. "You don't have to fuck him if you don't want to," I said. Trish looked surprised. "Did you ask Dr. Kelly-Moore about that?" "I did. She said it was your choice at any time. She's not telling you that you have to fuck him. Just that I can't fuck you and fail with him watching," I responded. "You have Dr. Kelly-Moore's permission to fuck him if you want to," I continued, "but you don't have to. Besides, Tom probably doesn't expect it every Saturday night anyway. It won't matter if you skip one now and then." She paused in thought and looked at me lovingly before she spoke. "Okay then, I'm not gonna fuck him Saturday. It would break my heart to hurt you that way. Let me prove to you how much I love you for once." "And honey, you may not believe this, but I have enjoyed fucking you before Tom. I don't come but it's tender and loving and it makes things seem okay somehow and it makes me feel better. Okay, I won't fuck this Saturday. I promise!" Tom came over on Saturday and after dinner we soaked in the hot tub and then climbed out and lay down on the mat beside the tub. I pretended to be really drunk but I watched Trish's face and for the first time I saw a fierce struggle between the horny bitch and the loving wife. She wasn't lying to herself any more. I knew she was remembering our conversation. Her little swingers' protective device had been stripped away and she saw herself as a horny slut, but she had promised me she would not fuck him. I really wasn't sure if she could keep that promise. I could see her thinking that Dr. Kelly-Moore said it was okay either way, but that still didn't make it right in her own mind – she had promised me. I watched her face as she struggled. Tom made no move toward her. He just lay there next to her on the mat. She stared at his cock and then looked back at me. She knew I was not as drunk as I pretended to be. Her face was a mask of conflict and torment as her sexual need increased each minute. She looked at his cock again and then back at me. Then she looked at Tom's cock a third time and just stared – she wanted it - she couldn't take her eyes off of it. Tom saw her staring at his cock and he knew she wanted to fuck. His cock started to respond. It got bigger and bigger until he had a firm erection sticking straight up, almost vibrating. She watched it happen from start to finish – hungrily like a horny bitch. Then she looked back at me. There were tears in her eyes now. Watching her face I saw the horny bitch slowly win the struggle. Unable to look me in the eye, she turned away from me and reached over and took Tom's cock in her hand and began to stroke it gently. She couldn't look at me. She just took Tom's hand, spread her legs, and pulled him slowly between them. "Do me!" Trish said softly, in surrender. As he mounted her, she turned, finally looked at me one more time, and silently mouthed the words, "I love you." It's strange, but I felt a little bit better about him fuckin her now because I knew how much Trish loved me. I had seen her torment and I knew she couldn't help herself. She wanted to help me and was trying to help even when she had powerful needs she couldn't resist. I also understood a lot better how frustrated she was that I could never give her that "big O" that Tom always gave her. Still, it was painful to watch another man fuck the woman you loved and know she enjoyed pumping her ass and sweating for that final big pleasure. Worst of all, of course, was knowing that she couldn't say no, even when she had promised me she would. She simply had to have that dick! Tom fucked her hard for over a quarter of an hour with her pumping her ass like a slut before she got what she needed and they both collapsed together panting and sweating. When he rolled off of her, she crawled over to me, crying, and lay beside me sobbing wordlessly. She threw her leg over my thigh and held me close, kissing my chest. I could feel a warm mixture of Tom's cum and Trish's secretions dripping out of her pussy and running down my thigh. Tom got up and slipped back into the hot tub. She began kissing my chest and whispering, "I'm sorry. I love you. I love you." Suddenly she looked down to where Tom's cum was dripping out of her pussy onto my leg. Her whole body seemed to tense and then she started to tremble. "Oh my God! No!" Trish screamed. "Oh my God!" Then she jumped up rapidly and ran into the house grabbing the bottle of Glenlivet off of the patio table as she went. I got into the hot tub with Tom. Tom smiled at me. "I told you to go light on the booze, Bro. I think the little lady is pissed because you were too drunk to fuck. My advice to you is to cut down on the booze." I went into the bedroom after Tom left. Trish was passed out on the bed, naked. She hadn't even pulled back the covers. The bottle of Glenlivet was on the bedside table. It was empty. I lay there wondering how she must feel – loving me and knowing she couldn't resist fucking Tom. Sunday morning when I woke up Trish was still in the same position she had passed out in the night before. I got up and went into the kitchen to make coffee. As I was pouring my first cup, Trish walked into the kitchen looking worse than I had ever seen her look in all our married life. Her hair was uncombed – she was still buck-naked – her face was a disaster of smeared lipstick and stale eye makeup. There was dried cum that had dripped down both her inner thighs and she had bags under her eyes. Her expression was the picture of total despair. She stood in the doorway, legs splayed apart, arms hanging loosely at her sides, staring down at the floor. "I'm a slut! A filthy slut!" Trish said it slowly and with emphasis. "Darling," I said, "Let's talk about this ... " Then she screamed. "No reason to talk! I'm a slut. I fucked your brother after giving you my solemn promise that I would not. I wasn't drunk! I wasn't stoned! I was just horny! I fucked him right before you eyes while you watched us do it. I fucked him because I wanted to fuck him. Then I walked over and dripped his cum from my filthy pussy onto your clean body. I'm a dirty slut!" She was screaming now. I had to do something about this, I thought. She's getting hysterical. She's losing it. I can't let this happen. I've got to do something – anything to get her under control. I walked over and picked her up in my arms and carried her back to bed. Then I laid her down and kissed her. She struggled but I held her arms tightly. I kissed her again and worked my way down to her breasts, kissing and licking her body as I went. I could taste Tom's stale sweat. She Says She Loves Me I worked down to her belly and then to her beaver and my tongue found her clit. "Oh no! Oh God no," she shouted. "I haven't washed. I'm filthy. Please don't. Please!" I got my tongue working on her clit. She struggled but I held her down. Her clit had a strange musky taste. Well, I thought, that's what stale cum tastes like. I started working on it the way that always brought her off and it began to get hard. Her inner thighs were sticky against my cheeks. It took several minutes to calm her struggles, but finally she relaxed and laid still, and then she began a soft hump that complemented my work on her clit. I reached down and put one hand under each buttock and lifted her ass up to give me better access to her pussy. Her buttocks were sticky just like her inner thighs. She began to moan softly. It took about five minutes till the louder moans and gentle contractions began. It was a long gentle orgasm, but not the "big O" that Tom gave her. Still, it was our usual, soft orgasm that I knew I could always give her when I ate pussy. She lay there relaxing and I moved up to kiss her lips. She embraced me and started to cry. "I'm a slut. I'm not worthy of a man like you. I love you so much I would die for you. I'm so sorry I didn't have the will power to resist fucking him last night. I'm so sorry. But I just couldn't resist. I don't know why." Then, suddenly, she pushed me away and looked down at her body in disgust. "My God I'm filthy – his cum – his sweat – I can smell it! Don't touch me – I'm not clean. You don't deserve this filth. I'm not fit to hold you. I don't want you to see me this way." Then she jumped up off of the bed and raced out the back door to the patio and jumped into the hot tub. I said a brief, silent thank-you for the fences that kept the neighbors from seeing the hot tub – after all a naked slut in the hot tub on Sunday morning instead of a well-dressed lady on her way to church was hardly what I wanted the neighbors to see. I lay in bed for a moment thinking. Yes, she is a whore, but I love her all the same. I wouldn't change her for anything. Then I went out and joined my wife – my loving wife - in the hot tub. The next day was Monday. I told Dr. Kelly-Moore what had happened Saturday night and what Trish had said. She nodded. "You are a very patient, wise man," she said. "We need to get started on your therapy." "So what do you plan to do?" I asked. "You'll have therapy sessions three times a week with my husband. He will hypnotize you and go over what you've watched happening to your wife, except that gradually he will have you playing the role that Tom plays now – under hypnosis of course." "You mean he's gonna make me believe that I can fuck Trish like Tom is fucking her?" I asked. Dr. Kelly-Moore seemed almost embarrassed by my language and I asked myself how the hell could someone talk about fucking all day long and never use the word fuck. Then she chuckled. "Yeah, I guess that's what he's going to do. He's going to leave you with post-hypnotic suggestions that will make you believe that you can ... well ... you can fuck your wife as good as your brother does. Self-confidence. Your self-confidence is what he will be working on." And then I began thirty-minute sessions three times a week. It was very strange because I never remembered exactly what happened. But during each session I had that feeling I had had the first day he hypnotized me – that feeling of being in his office and in bed with Trish and Tom at the same time and moving back and forth from one place to the other. Tom still came over every Saturday night and fucked Trish while I watched, but I never failed in front of him. I think she felt ashamed of the way her desire built up in the silence next to the hot tub until she yielded to it and grabbed Tom and pulled him between her legs. This was too crude and obvious for her. She talked to me about it and said she wanted to do something different – something that was fun. She developed a new routine. After we got out of the hot tub, she began to laugh and kid around. She played some music on the sound system and asked Tom and me to dance with her. Then she got out her spike heels and danced with us naked, kidding Tom and me about how we kept looking at her legs. She even did an occasional bump and grind if the music was right. It didn't take much of this till both Tom and I were dancing with firm erections that were bouncing up and down as we moved. It seemed like casual fun. She talked a lot about doing favors for Janice, but I could always see her naked lust grow behind this facade. At just the right moment she'd grab Tom by the dick and lead him into the bedroom. "Come along baby," Trish would say to me. "I'll do you second." I followed and pretended to be very drunk, but I couldn't take my eyes off her as she grunted and pumped her ass for her orgasm. It was a private humiliation – but a humiliation all the same. Although she was now admitting to me frequently that she had to fuck him, she concealed this need from Tom by the laughter and joking. The way she did it made me feel a little better also. After her "big O" Tom usually went home promptly and Trish always cleaned herself up very carefully before she came to bed with me so I wouldn't smell his sweat and cum. I fucked her then. She said she enjoyed it, but of course she never had an orgasm. Over and over she told me how much she loved me and how ashamed she was of what she needed to do. I have to give Tom credit. He always left promptly. He could easily have slept over with us, three in our bed, and fucked her the next morning. The horny bitch would have fucked him too, if his piss hard on had lasted long enough to satisfy her. Even with me lying there watching them, obviously sober, with my useless dick, the bitch would have fucked him – she was that hung up on that big orgasm. I was drinking more and smoking more pot. Somehow as the weeks went by it bothered me less and less to watch him fuck her. I even began to have some strange feelings that it was me in the saddle instead of him. Her orgasms, of course, continued to be big and powerful and usually she screamed when her contractions started. After about four weeks of therapy, Dr. Moore had me wear a bathrobe when I lay on the couch. I was naked underneath. The first time I did this I remember nothing about what happened except that I woke up with the robe open and there was semen all over my belly and up to my chest. When I asked what happened he smiled. "Your erection lasted almost ten minutes," he said. There were several more sessions like that one and then he asked if his wife could join us at the next session. Of course I agreed. I still remembered nothing about what happened during the sessions but when I woke up from this one Dr. Kelly-Moore was sitting there with a big smile on her face. My belly and chest were covered with semen. "You lasted over fifteen minutes," she said. "That ought to be enough to satisfy that horny wife of yours – if it stays up during sex, of course. Just now you held your erection till you had a spontaneous orgasm while you imagined having sex with your wife – like a wet dream." "You mean I'm cured?" I asked. "Oh no, of course not!" Dr. Kelly-Moore said. "But you held an erection for fifteen minutes while in your mind you were having sex with your wife. I think it's time to try it for real." "I had a firm erection?" I asked. "Like a steel rod," she answered. "Thick and strong - any man would have been proud of it and any woman glad to see it." "So what now?" I asked. "Tom still comes to your house each Saturday?" Dr. Kelly-Moore asked. "Yes," I replied. "But not next Saturday. He'll be up in Frisco." Dr. Kelly-Moore grinned. "That's perfect! I want your wife aroused - I want her, as some people might say, as horny as a mountain goat." Then she laughed. "I want nothing to change. Nothing! You have Tom over the Saturday he gets back. The whole routine - nothing is to be different – booze and grass and the hot tub – except this time you have sex with her first, like you did at first. But YOU go light on the booze and grass. You understand?" "Tom has to be there?" I asked, puzzled. "Tom has to be there," she nodded. "I want everything to be exactly as usual." Dr. Moore interrupted. "And do it on the mat next to the hot tub." "I will. Do I tell Trish anything?" Dr. Kelly-Moore responded, "Not until that night just before Tom gets there. I want her to get horny – not nervous. Then only tell her that you'll do her first like before," she replied. "Of course your wife is smart. She'll figure out that maybe I think you're ready." And that's the way it happened. I will remember that night for the rest of my life. It was a Saturday night like always, except I could tell that Trish was really horny. She hadn't had the "big O" in two weeks. I went light on the booze and didn't inhale the grass. We changed our routine and did it on the mat beside the pool. I fucked her first and I was scared to death. Two minutes went by and I was still stiff and pounding away. Then four minutes and I knew it was going to be different. Trish had a strange puzzled expression on her face as she looked up at me. My dick stayed firm and I kept on pounding her hard like I had seen Tom do. I heard a voice in my head telling me to just pound that pussy like I owned it. And I did. I heard a voice telling me that I was doing well and to take my time and relax because I could come any time I wanted to. Finally, Trish's eyes seemed to glaze over and she stared out at something in the distance and I heard a voice telling me that I was in complete control. I knew it was gonna work when Trish dropped her feet to the floor to get better leverage and started pumping her ass like she did with Tom. She seemed to be in another world and then she started talking dirty and begging me to fuck her harder and deeper. I just kept on fucking her as hard as I could. She arched her back to make her tits rub the hair on my chest. Then she started to tremble and I felt something that I had never felt before. Her pussy started to contract on my cock, grabbing me like a strong hand. I was moving my hard cock in and out through the tightest pussy I had ever felt in my life, but my dick felt like a steel rod forcing its way inside of her. Then I heard a voice say "NOW" and I started pumping my load deep as she held her ass up tightly against me. It was not like anything I had ever felt before. It was the best orgasm I had ever had in my life. I collapsed on top of her sweating body, both of us panting for air, and found myself thinking and maybe even saying aloud what Tom always said. "Damn! That's good pussy." Trish grabbed my head in both hands and kissed me long and hard. Looking up at me she said, "Thank you baby. I love you so very much." She had tears in her eyes. Tom laughed loudly. "You see Bro? I always told you to go light on the booze and pot. Those things can make your dick soft so you can't finish her off. They never bother me but I think you might be sensitive to them." My God! All this time and Tom had never known what Trish and I had been going through! He thought it was just booze and pot. We rested and then Tom crawled on top and fucked her. It was a long and leisurely fuck and he had his orgasm after about ten minutes. Trish pumped her ass and moaned but I could tell that she did not have an orgasm. Later in bed she said to me, "It still feels good to fuck Tom but he didn't make me come." "It feels good whether you come or not Trish, because you're a horny little bitch who likes to fuck," I said. "Yes I am exactly that! But you're the man I love and the man I want to fuck me and make me come. Darling, I'm so sorry for the pain I caused you." "Think about it Trish. If you hadn't fucked Tom, you would never have experienced that "big O" he gave you. You always thought orgasms were over-rated remember? And I would never have learned how to give you the big one. Maybe it's all worked out for the best. We both need to be very grateful to Tom." Trish expressed her gratitude to Tom that next Saturday night and several more times after that. But Tom never made her come, unless he fucked her first. I felt rather good about that, especially when I discovered that I could give her a second "big O" after Tom had fucked her. That rebuilt my self-esteem big time! Maybe love had something to do with sex after all. Dr. Kelly-Moore was enthusiastic when I told her about what happened. She said it made her happy because there were lots of failures in the sex therapy business. Failure was the rule – success was the exception - and mostly she helped couples tolerate failure or adjust to modest success. She wanted to see me once a month for further therapy and follow-up. The next two months were a real pleasure. Tom and Trish and I had a genuine threesome for the first time. Trish enjoyed what she called "recreational fucking" by which she meant fifteen minutes fucking Tom, after I had given her the "big O" fucking her first. She would do him cowboy, regular and reverse, and they did it doggie with him fingering her clit. During a recreational fuck she would be laughing the whole time and when he pumped his load she always smiled at me and gave me the thumbs up. She wanted me to suck her clit while Tom was doing her doggie and she was sucking my dick. Trish had a horny imagination! I tried it once, but his big dick got in my face and his balls bounced on my forehead, which was more than I could take. I didn't do it a second time. Some people I read about on the net have gotta be perverts! After a couple more months, Janice got back from London, proud of her new degree. We had them over to our place. Janice had belonged to the same sorority as Trish at USC but she was a couple of years behind Trish and they never knew each other very well. The first time we had them over for dinner we had drinks on the patio and the four of us did the hot tub. No sex – just getting reacquainted with conversation and drinks – but Janice was built like a tall bathing suit model with a body like Venus. It was hard for me to take my eyes off of her. Trish noticed, of course. After they left I took Trish to bed and fucked her right away. "That bitch may have lit your fire, darling, but I'm the one who's gonna enjoy the heat," Trish said as she spread her legs. "I just happen to be in the mood, "I said. "Sure you just happen to be – it's just a coincidence," chuckled Trish. "Looking at that beautiful, long-legged, sexy bitch naked has nothing at all to do with this rock hard cock I got in my hand." I gave Trish her "big O" and then we began to talk about Janice. "She's got nice tits," I said. "Yeah, but no bigger than mine," Trish said. "She's got big nipples," I said. "Who needs big nipples?" Trish said. Then she thought a minute. "But Jesus those legs! She's three inches taller than me and all of it is in her legs. God! Those legs just frame that big hairy bush. That's gotta be the hairiest bush in southern California. "I noticed," I said. "The understatement of the year! You stared at that bush all night!" "You're gonna fuck that bush, you know," Trish said. "For sure you're gonna fuck it." "Maybe Tom won't want me to," I said. "Shit! Tom can't say no! That horny bastard was banging me like a drum for five months. He's gotta let you fuck Janice. But I think, maybe, you have something else in mind first. Don't you?" "Well ... maybe ... I mean ... I might ... I thought ... " Trish started laughing. "You want to eat that pussy don't you? I can see you now with your face buried in that hairy beaver, those long legs wrapped around your head pulling you close, and that tongue of yours working on her clit while you hold her ass up in the air with your hands to get a better shot at that pussy." I pictured what Trish said and my dick started to tingle. "She'll just lay back and enjoy it," Trish continued. "You've got a magic tongue you bastard and it'll drive that horny bitch wild!" "The Chi-Os still tell stories about your tongue. You had a reputation as the fastest tongue in the west. Janice will have heard about you – in fact, I know she has already." Trish was on a roll now. "That's why I married you, you know. The way you ate pussy. That was before I learned from Tom that getting my pussy pounded for a quarter of an hour gave me the big orgasm." "All the girls in Chi-O talked about your skill at eating pussy – how many did you eat?" "Oh I don't know – maybe six or eight," I said. "Bullshit! Well over a dozen gals claimed they enjoyed your tongue!" "Not that many – I don't think it was that many," I said. "Some may have been bragging –but for sure it was more than six or eight. And they all talked about your routine." "My routine? What routine?" I was genuinely puzzled. "Yeah, your routine. You always expected pussy on the first date. No other guy on campus got that – but you did. You ate pussy to bring them off and then just as the gal started to come you shoved that big dick in and fucked her." "Well I was young and it seemed ... it seemed like the thing to do." "Some of them probably didn't plan to fuck – they just wanted their clit tickled. But once they started to cum ... well ... there's not a bitch alive that can say no in the middle of an orgasm. You probably got more than one virgin that way." "I don't know," I said. "You remember Zelda Barnes?" Trish asked. "Zelda Barnes?" I was genuinely lost. "Labor Day Weekend you bastard!" "Oh THAT Zelda Barnes." "Yeah, that Zelda Barnes." "Zelda told all the Chi-Os that she was saving her cherry for her future husband. They fixed her up with you for the Labor Day Weekend." "Yeah, I remember that weekend," I said. "I had a lot of fun." "The girls figured you did. On Tuesday when everybody got back to campus a couple of gals had fixed up a poster for the bulletin board. It was a great big picture of a sunset and pasted on it was a cherry with wings that they cut out of a chocolate candy advertisement. The legend said 'Zelda's cherry flies off into the sunset.'" "Jesus! Was Zelda a virgin?" "Zelda was a virgin when you took her out on Friday, but all the gals were sure that her cherry was long gone by the following Tuesday. You bastard! You probably got it Friday night." I tried to remember – I think Trish was right about Friday night. "Damn!" Trish continued, "You could eat pussy like a gourmet, but looking back on it your fucking left something to be desired." "Most of the gals didn't know that your two-minute fuck was unusual – I sure didn't. They all figured – just like I did - that that was the way most guys fucked – and actually, in college I think most guys fucked exactly like that - two maybe three minutes and then WHAM." I was starting to get embarrassed hearing about my former inadequacy. "When they went out with you they didn't wear panties so when you lifted their skirt you'd see an eager, hairy pussy right away. You bastard! Those gals were always ready for you. Ready on the first date!" "You really had a reputation for liking pussies that were hairy. One Chi-O shaved her pussy before she went out with you and you lifted her skirt – took one look at her naked pussy – pulled her skirt back down and drove her back to the sorority house." "I don't remember that," I said. "Somebody just made that up." "Well all the girls told that story so it must have happened. And even if it didn't happen, it would have happened for damn sure if some crazy bitch showed you a shaved pussy." Trish started laughing again and said, "Every time we had Caesar salad at the sorority house the gals joked about you saying that pussy tasted just like anchovies." She Says She Loves Me "Well it's true," I said. "Then someone would always say," Trish continued, "'Okay gals, you gotta keep those pussies clean because day old anchovies taste fishy.'" Trish was laughing so much she almost choked. "God! You were funny. I'm so glad I caught you – you're the world's greatest husband. The girls just lined up for you." "I think my reputation has been exaggerated," I said. "What were you two talking about when you went into the house to the bathroom?" "She wanted to thank me for taking care of Tom while she was gone. She said Tom needs a user-friendly pussy on a regular basis and she was afraid he might start servicing some horny bitch." "Well if I remember correctly he DID start servicing a horny bitch, didn't he?" "You mean me? Well yeah he did, but she meant a horny bitch that might try to steal him away from her. I was no risk." "What else did you two talk about?" "Do you remember a Chi-O named Nancy Morgan?" "Nancy Morgan? No, I don't think so." "Jesus! You fucked her a half dozen times!" "I don't remember." "Well you did! And now Nancy Morgan works at the Walker Art Museum and she's a friend of Janice. She told Janice about your talented tongue and Janice found that very interesting." "Interesting?" I said, thinking once again about that beautiful hairy beaver. "Yeah, interesting. You see Tom doesn't know how to eat pussy. She said he just sticks his tongue in and moves it around. He can't make Janice come with his tongue." "Wow! I can't believe that! How could a guy not know how to eat pussy?" "Oh Mr. Sex Champ! Why not? You had to learn to give me the "big O" by watching Tom fuck me. Maybe you can return the favor. They're coming over next Saturday night. She wants you to eat pussy. Tom gets to watch you for a change!" "Jesus!" I thought, I'm gonna get that pussy pie after all. "Did you two horny broads talk about anything except sex?" "No. But she asked about your stamina – was it as good as Tom's?" "What did you tell her about my stamina?" I asked. "I said that when you were sober it was as good as Tom's." "What did she say then?" "She shook her head in amazement and said, 'Jesus! That's hard to imagine.' I could tell she was thinking about getting fucked by the both of you – one after the other – just like she knew I'd been getting fucked." "And she's right!" Trish continued. "Just think about it Buddy, from a girl's perspective - that's over a half hour of getting your pussy banged like a drum – just pounded while you lay back, take it deep, relax, and enjoy it. I think back on it and it turns me on every time. She's looking forward to it – I know she is. You're gonna fuck her after you eat her pussy!" "Well," I said, "maybe this is going to work out after all." I kept thinking about those long legs and that hairy bush. "You should do her like you did me last month when I was extra horny," Trish said. "How's that?" I asked. "Your old routine. Eat pussy with that fast tongue of yours. Bring her off and while she's still having contractions and she's helpless, shove your dick in and start to bang that pussy hard. I loved it when you did me that way, especially with your new stamina, and she will too." "Yeah, maybe she'll like that," I said, feeling a tingle in my cock as I thought about burying my face in that lush, curly-haired bush. "But remember," Trish said. "Sometimes when we do a foursome I gotta fuck Tom first because he can't make me cum after I fuck you and I want to cum twice." "You're a very horny little bitch!" I said. "Exactly!" Trish responded immediately. "This is gonna be a great foursome." We lay there quietly for a few minutes, me thinking about that bush and Lord knows what Trish was thinking about. Then Trish reached over and started stroking my dick. "Wanna fuck me?" Trish said. "I just fucked you a half hour ago." "Yeah, but I'm ready again thinking about that foursome." "Jesus! You're a horny little bitch!" "Yeah! Ain't you glad?"