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The Carol Project

By: bobfr



 (This is an expanded and re-edited version of a story posted in a different category. I hope you enjoy it.)

*

Chapter 1, Cultivating and Planting

It was a bitter-cold, January Friday in Cincinnati. Brad Taylor sat in his small, spartan office and found himself thinking about a seed. He remembered how it had grown in his fertile mind, occupying more and more of his thinking, maturing into a fully developed idea.

He remembered the afternoon when the tiny seed had been planted in his cultivated brain. It was implanted that day, more than three months ago, when Darrel Thomas, who occupied a nearly identical office next to his, stuck his head in Brad's office doorway and said excitedly, "hey buddy, come on over, you gotta see this."

Brad had worked with Darrel for more than five years and knew immediately that Darrel had been surfing the net for porn and must have found something special. Darrel wasn't stupid enough to do this on the company's internet, he had his own big screen laptop with a cell modem so it wouldn't show up on his company computer activity. Nevertheless, both men knew for sure that Darrel was violating at least one corporate policy because it was done on company time.

"Hang on a sec man, I've got to finish this spreadsheet," Brad said as he worked at his own computer for a few more minutes. The international consumer products company he and Darrel worked for as project specialists, bought chemicals by the ton, added fragrance -- and for some products also flavoring -- packaged them, and then aggressively promoted and sold them by the ounce all over the world as familiar household brands, raking in billions in the process. Buying ingredients by the ton, adding a little value and reselling a finished product by the ounce, was a sure fire way for big shareholders and management at the very top to get immensely rich. That wasn't something, however, with which either Darrel, or Brad, had to concern himself. 

A few minutes later Brad walked into Darrel's office. "Whatcha got Darrel?" Brad asked.

"Grab a seat and take a look at this," said the giant black man as he pulled up a side chair for Brad next to his own comfortable desk chair. Lowering his voice he said excitedly, "you won't fucking believe it." 

Sure enough, Brad had guessed exactly right. Darrel had been surfing the net for porn. This wasn't the first time he had invited Brad to take a look at something that he thought was extra special. And, Brad had to admit, he actually enjoyed these little breaks from work. If McGraw, their boss, unexpectedly dropped by, Darrel would switch the screen to a real project and say that Brad was helping him with something. They both thought that McGraw was so dumb he wouldn't know the difference anyway.  

Darrel clicked the mouse a couple of times and the sleek laptop's screen lit up and came to life. Brad read the title in yellow letters that spelled out, "Lucky Wife Fucks 29 Guys." Then he noticed the sole of a dainty foot attached to a long gorgeous bare leg. The woman was lying on her back surrounded by what appeared to be about six guys. The camera was above the group looking down at the action. Then he saw her flushed face and long neck. She was beautiful with long, light brown hair. She was moaning as an average size, but stone hard, glistening, wet cock plunged into her. What struck Brad almost immediately about this video, more than any he had seen before, was the woman's obvious excitement. Unless Brad was mistaken, she couldn't possibly have been acting. What he was watching was very real and it seemed to Brad that she was in a constant state of orgasm. He had never seen anything quite like it. Then he remembered that he had seen something like it. Every time he made love to his beautiful wife, Carol, in the missionary position, as he looked down at her face -- also surrounded by lustrous, long brown hair, though darker than the woman's in the video -- she too was almost always in a constant state of climaxing, her face was also flushed as she panted and writhed beneath him wanting more and more.

The woman in the film didn't speak. Actually, none of the men spoke either, except later and then very briefly midway in the video. For the most part, the only sounds emitted were the moans, groans, grunts and gasps that seemed constant with most of them coming from the woman. Another thing that Brad noticed was that none of the men had huge cocks like he saw in most of the other videos. They were average size, at best, but that didn't seem to bother the woman at all. Brad couldn't imagine how she could have been more excited if all of the cocks had been gigantic.

Darrel glanced away from the screen, looked at Brad and asked, "Isn't she something?"

Brad wasn't thinking when he quietly responded, "that's how Carol looks."

"What did you say?" asked Darrel wanting to make sure he understood correctly what he thought he had heard.

"Nothing," replied Brad.

"Oh, I thought you said, 'that's how Carol looks.' "

"Yeah, you heard right, that is what I said." 

"Wow! I've never seen a woman get so much into fucking as this gal in the film." Darrel paused for a minute. Then, as they watched the screen, enraptured, a portly man who had been thrusting into the woman shuddered and came himself. As he dismounted the number "1" flashed across the screen as the man's thick white semen oozed out of the beautiful woman's raw vagina and plopped onto the light blue sheet covering a king-size mattress on the floor. Then, the first man was immediately replaced by another. When the second guy entered her she started coming again. "Are you serious? Does Carol really come like that?"

"I'm serious. She really does," Brad said softly, almost wistfully, as he was intently watching the woman on the screen while thinking of his wife.

The two men wasted 44 minutes of company time that autumn afternoon in Darrel's office until the number "29" flashed on the screen of the laptop computer and the screen went dark. At the end, the light blue sheet was soiled with more than a dozen wet spots. They had noticed a pattern as they intently watched the video. The man who knelt on the woman's right, near her head with his cock in her mouth, was usually the one to take the place of the guy who had been fucking her. The man who knelt on her left, typically, had his cock in her pretty hand. The other men were crowded around and touching her breasts, her legs or her pretty ass. When one group finished, another group of five or six took its place until all twenty-nine men had made a gooey deposit in her hungry, seemingly insatiable pussy.

"That was without a doubt the hottest video I've ever seen," declared Darrel.

"I have to agree with you," said Brad.

"I would love to see something like that in person," said Darrel wistfully as he leaned back in his chair, laced the long black fingers of his big hands together forming a cradle for his huge, shaved head.

Brad couldn't help thinking that he too would love to see a woman totally give in to multiple lovers who kept her at a sexual peak few women could ever reach. He and Carol had been married for twenty-two -- almost twenty three -- years and he had learned in that time that she was, potentially, one of those women. He was as hot for his beautiful wife and the mother of their three children as he had ever been. "I would like to watch that too, Darrel, but I guess we'll just have to settle for the video again if that's what we want to see."

"You're probably right. But, I would still love to see a woman, like the woman in the video, not a professional actress, in person getting all the cock she could handle and cumming nonstop."

"How do you plan on making that ever happen?" Asked Brad as he chuckled at the seeming impossibility of Darrel's dream.

"I'm not sure, but I think it's something worth working on, don't you?"

This wasn't a new subject for either of the men. During the years they had worked side by side they became close, shared their innermost thoughts with each other and most of their shared thoughts were about sex. Darrel had been married to Ruthie for thirty years. She had doubled her body size since they wed, must weigh over three hundred pounds and was just really unattractive because she had let herself go in every respect and just didn't seem to care about anything anymore. Darrel loved her dearly but had finally given up on sex with her -- that didn't mean he didn't have sex -- about the same time she gave up on it too. Both men knew that there weren't twenty-nine guys who would want to have sex with Darrel's wife. Both men also remembered that Brad had finally admitted to Darrel, after Darrel's unrelenting urging over the past two years, that Brad really wanted to watch his gorgeous but faithful wife fuck another man. However, that was unlikely to ever happen, no matter how much he wanted it.

Brad remembered the first time Darrel had brought up the subject. It was after they had watched another video, two years before, when Darrel asked, "hey buddy you ever think about watching Carol get fucked?"

"Hey man, that's none of your business," was Brad's swift and indignant espousal response.

Darrel just laughed and said, "don't get your shorts in bunch. Every guy thinks about that after he's been married as long as you've been and, especially, if the guy's married to someone as super hot as Carol."

Brad felt as if he had been caught because he had been thinking that very thing, especially since he and Darrel had been taking their breaks from working by watching porn on Darrel's laptop. After that first time Darrel had brought up the subject of Brad watching his wife another man, whenever they watched a video together or, sometimes even when they were just having a cup of coffee, Darrel would predictably bring up the subject of Carol with someone else. Brad's reverie was abruptly interrupted by the sound of Darrel's deep voice.

"Hey, man," said Darrel, "you've told me dozens of times that you want to watch Carol with another guy and just now you told me that she always cums and looks and acts like the woman in the video. Right?"

"That's true. So what?"

"Why don't you try to get Carol to do that?"

"Darrel, even though Carol is prettier than the video gal and loves sex more than any woman I could imagine, the chances of that happening are about the same as you becoming the CEO of the company, or me bowling a 300 game, zilch. That's just not going to happen my friend."

"But, would you want it to?"

Brad thought that was a great question. Did he want it to happen? Did he want to see his wife, not just with one man, but many men, one after the other. Did he want to watch and hear her as others brought her to a place of ecstacy that was higher than he had been able to take her? Of course he had fantasized about that very thing, but until he had watched the special video with his black friend, the fantasy was blurry and vague, now it seemed to be sharper and more in focus than it had ever been. "Darrel, I'm not sure. I think so . . . " he paused to collect his thoughts, feeling almost disloyal to his mate for even discussing Darrel's idea. "Let's face it, what we just saw is much more extreme than anything I've ever imagined before. And, like I've told you many times, Carol has just blown me off whenever I mention how much I would like to see her with one man, not to mention twenty-nine."

Darrel starred at his ceiling, was quiet for a minute then he said, "Let's think about it. We're both project guys. We get paid to make things happen. Why not make this a specific project? Why not make it a project to get Carol laid by twenty-nine guys? No, let's make it at least thirty," he said reconsidering the goal, "one after the other nonstop so she can beat the gal in the video." He smiled, then became serious, leaned closer to Brad and said, "and Brad, I'm sure you will agree that the only thing missing from the video was that all of the guys were kind of on the small side. You've told me over and over that you really do want to watch Carol with a guy with a big cock and preferably a black guy, right?"

"Right," Brad answered cautiously as he recalled telling Darrel exactly that several times during the past year, as his fantasy for Carol grew and became more extreme.

"Well then, let's make it a project to get Carol gangbanged by at least thirty well-hung black guys nonstop within, oh, let's say six months. Let's make Carol a special project. What do you think?" Darrel asked eagerly.

Brad was tongue-tied and torn in his confusion, nevertheless, the seed had been planted in his mind that had been well prepared for the seeding of the idea. Darrel's question was unambiguous. Still, he didn't know how to answer it. "We're talking about my wife and my marriage," he said seriously as he pushed the chair back and stood up to leave. In frustration at not being better able to explain his dilemma he said, "think I'm going to call it day and head home. See you tomorrow, Darrel." Before Brad got back to his office he thought about something, did a quick 180, returned to Darrel's office, poked his head in the door and asked, "hey, how can I get that video on my computer at home?"

Darrel wrote down the URL for the free site and instructions on how to get to the video with the highly sexual, beautiful woman. As he handed the yellow slip of paper to Brad, he smiled and asked, "are you going to show it to Carol?"

"Yes I am. Hope she doesn't bite my head off."

"Are you going to tell her about our project?"

"You're going way too fast for me my friend. Slow down. See you tomorrow Darrel."

During his drive home in heavy traffic -- almost on auto-pilot -- Brad berated himself for not telling Darrel to "knock it off" when his friend first broached the subject of the Carol Project. Brad knew that not so many years earlier he would have been indignant at Darrel's absurd idea, but that was when the green-eyed-monster of jealousy still resided deep within his psyche. During the first dozen years, or so, of their marriage he could hardly stand it when someone would stare at Carol with obvious longing, lightly flirt with her, or even when friends would remind him that he married a hot fox. He couldn't point to a moment when the jealousy monster vacated his mind, but suddenly it moved out like a delinquent tenant in the dark of night. Almost instantly, or so it seemed to Brad, the empty psychic space was occupied by a very different type of resident. For some reason that he didn't understand, he began to look forward to the attention men always paid his beautiful wife. As time went on, he encouraged her to dress sexier and would tell her that he actually liked it when men looked at her lustily or flirted with her at company parties. His change in attitude both embarrassed and confused Carol, but she accepted it as a phase her husband must be going through that would, surely, soon end she told herself. 

Chapter 2, Watering

That same day, more than three months ago, while Brad was driving home from work, Carol Taylor was all alone in the big, old house that she had shared with her husband and children. Brad would be home soon and she was only cooking for the two of them because Don and Robin were away at different colleges and Tim was spending the night with a friend from high school. Even though it was October, and the evenings were getting cool in Ohio, she wore her white, short shorts and one of Robin's flimsy tops with a tiny strap that just slipped over her head and another that tied at her waist. The white short shorts were her favorite, not just because they made Brad wildly hot but also because they were too small, exposing half of each round, firm ass cheek and so tight at the crotch that the in-seam -- which was now moist -- pressed and rubbed against her swollen clit and cleaved her pussy lips. Today she was wearing the shorts with the fly button unbuttoned and the zipper only zipped halfway. Her sparse, neatly trimmed pubic hair was framed by the v of the open fly. Carol thought it looked cute and sexy but realized that someone else might think it was ridiculous or just looked raunchy. But, to Carol the only thing that mattered was what Brad would think and she knew it would drive him lustfully wild. The blue material that covered her still-pert breasts didn't quite reach her navel, it was loose, but not so loose as to cover up the fact that she was braless. Of course, with no back she couldn't have worn a bra anyway, not that she ever needed to. Carol was proud that she could wear her daughter's clothes even though Robin was only 20 and she was 42. She was an inch taller than her daughter at 5' 7" but, Carol actually weighed a little less than Robin at only 123 pounds. That notable fall day her shimmering dark hair was in a pony tail, she was barefoot and altogether looked more like a college freshman than a woman into her forties. She loved to drive Brad crazy and couldn't wait for him to get home so she could tease him in her sexy outfit and see what it would lead to later that night.

The two-story frame house on Trammel Lane was the same house in which she had grown up. Her mother had died when she was twelve and her father when she was 22, just three years after she and Brad married. Because she didn't have siblings, everything was left to her. Without a mortgage, they were able to make Brad's income go a long way and so they were more comfortable, financially, than others in his pay bracket.

She and Brad had attended separate Catholic High Schools, hers was an all girl's school and his an all boys. However, they did have joint dances and that's when they met during their junior year. For both of them, it was love at first sight. He was tall, handsome, charming and funny. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He learned that she lived with her widower father and was taking care of him. It seemed to Brad that she wanted to take care of everybody and he loved that about her. By the time they were ready to graduate, it was just understood by her dad, Brad's parents and all of their friends that they would go to college at Ohio State in Columbus and probably get married by the end of their freshman year. They didn't wait that long. She lived in an on-campus girl's dorm and he in a boy's dorm, but they were nearly inseparable. It was inevitable that they would have sex, and it didn't take but a matter of weeks before she stopped saying no to an insistent, frustrated boyfriend and finally said yes to her horny, new fiancé. They married during the Christmas' holiday break and then moved into a studio apartment on campus. They both studied hard and Brad graduated early, but she had to drop out to have her son, Don, in her junior year.

The first time they made love she discovered nerves at the center of her body that she didn't know existed. At first they sent a flash signal of pain to her brain which soon changed to a message of pleasure that just got better and better each time he thrust into her warm, wet, receptive cavity. She thought that after sleeping with the same man for more than twenty years, the pleasure would get old and eventually dull. That never happened to her, it just got better and better. Brad was so special, he seemed to be more concerned about her pleasure than his own. She had read in women's magazines that once a week, or even less, was about average for most couples their age, but, they made love at least three times in an average week and sometimes more than that. Sex with her handsome, caring, tender and loving husband was her favorite thing to do in the whole world, nothing else was even a close second. She had asked herself over and over if there was something wrong with her. Why was she so obsessed with something that all adults did and usually sooner, rather than later, got tired of -- or at least bored with it with their life partner? She sure didn't get tired of it, she longed for and thought about it nearly all the time.


The Carol Project



For the last couple of years, however, it seemed as if Brad was the one in need of additional stimulation. She was shocked when he brought his diversion from work home and suggested more than a year ago that it wouldn't hurt if they watched some porn together to recharge their batteries and spice things up. Also he whispered indecent things to her before, during and after making love, that she couldn't reconcile with the man she loved more than life and who she thought she knew as well as she knew herself. She finally agreed that if watching other people screw on DVD's or the Internet and talking about opening up their marriage was what it took to get him in the mood, then she would play along with him. After all, she reasoned, it was just talk, just a fantasy, and nothing would ever happen. Little did she know that this day would be different. Little did she know that a libidinous new seed had been planted in her husband's susceptible and ripened mind that very afternoon. Little did Carol know that Darrel, their great friend, was determined to make her a project, a project so extreme it would be beyond anything she had imagined. However, for the project to become a success, it would require and be dependent upon her husband's involvement and enthusiastic cooperation, but it would be months before she knew any of that.

Brad opened the door between the garage and the mud room and, like millions of returning work warriors, announced, "honey, I'm home."

"In the kitchen Brad," she responded as she took two sizzling, thick, medium rare, juicy steaks out of the broiler, that had been perfectly timed for his arrival. She added them to the plates with steamy baked potatoes smothered with everything and a crisp salad, swimming in Brad's favorite tangy dressing that she always made from scratch.

"Wow! What's the occasion?" Brad asked as he took her in his arms and planted a wet kiss on her soft, warm perfect lips that glistened with a slick coat of her saliva that the tip of her wet pink, tongue had painted on the second before their lips touched.

"Just trying to seduce my husband," she said with a saucy laugh.

"You won't have to try very hard," Brad said as he slipped his hands inside the loose waist at the back of her shorts and squeezed both cheeks, "I'm a sure thing."

They didn't eat at the table but on the couch, snuggled up like teenagers, watching a television program together. If either of them had been asked what show they were watching, neither could have answered because each was thinking of something else. 

Each of them, however, could have recalled watching one of their two favorite television commercials. Whether it was Viagra or Cialis whenever it popped up on their flat-screen, if they were alone, they would laugh every time the medical warning was narrated in a very serious voice: "if an erection lasts more than four hours, contact your doctor immediately." Carol thought it was hilarious every time she heard it and realized that the warning was actually a backward endorsement of the magical results from just one little pill for a desperate man with a problem, or for his wanting partner. Predicably, Carol always commented with a chuckle, and did that night too, "yeah, they just wish for a four hour hardon."

But, this night, though they remembered the erectile dysfunction commercial, neither could recall what the program was because: Carol was thinking, I can't wait to get him in bed and fuck his brains out because I'm as hot as the sizzling steaks were; while Brad was thinking, should I really try and get Carol to watch the hot video that he and Darrel had watched and that he couldn't get out of his mind?

After they finished eating, it was Carol who said, "want to watch TV in our bedroom?"

"Carol, it's not even 8:00."

"I know," she said almost timidly.

Brad decided to go for it. "That old pervert, Darrel, called me into his office today and had another porn video for me to watch on his computer."

"I'm telling you baby, you guys are going to get fired if you ever get caught."

"Darrel's very careful. I think it's safe enough. Anyway, this was the hottest one I've ever seen."

"We've seen some really hot stuff. What was so special about this one?" Carol asked with genuine interest.

"I can get it up on the computer if you want to see for yourself," Brad said.

She flashed him a full tooth naughty smile. "Oh, I was thinking that we could do our own porn in our bedroom." When she saw that he was a little disappointed in her response, she quickly said, "sure honey, let's watch it."

In one way Carol did get her way because the computer was in their bedroom. Even though no one was home, out of habit, they closed their bedroom door before Brad fired up the computer with the large monitor and two layers of passwords. While he was doing that and connecting to the Internet, Carol smiled at him, skimmed off the white shorts, untied the bow at her back and was naked in a flash. She hardly ever wore panties anymore, because that was another of Brad's new ideas for her, and she finally gave in to his constant chiding about "real women" and "underwear." 

Brad couldn't help but compare his naked wife with the woman in the video who had fascinated him so much. Carol's breasts were a little smaller than the woman's, but they were much more to his liking. The woman in the video was completely shaven while for the past year Carol had kept her dark curly pubic hair trimmed above her cleft, with her lips completely bare and silky smooth. Also, he thought, Carol's face was prettier than the woman's, really prettier than the face of any other woman, he reminded himself. Other than that, the legs, arms, hands and feet of the two women were exceptional and similar. 

Carol sat down on a chair next to his and then she was reading on the large screen what he had read earlier that day, "Lucky wife fucks 29 guys." She put her hand to her mouth and gasped. It wasn't that she hadn't seen a woman in a porn video with more than one man before but certainly nothing that approached that number. Then, she too, saw what the men had seen earlier as the fucking began.

This time, Brad noticed things that he hadn't the first time. Each of the men had a red plastic bracelet around his wrist. A couple of the men wore black masks and two more had black hoods completely covering their faces. Two men kept their T-shirts on and one guy seemed to be wearing a strange black jock-strap.

Every time that she watched porn with Brad, or listened to his hot pillow talk, she couldn't help but feel a little guilty. She had been raised, and so had he, to never entertain the idea that sex was a recreational activity for fun, but reserved for a husband and wife and mainly, even then, to procreate. That view by most people, and even most Catholics, had been relaxed and extended so that it was thought of as an expression of love, though only between husband and wife. Well, the woman she was watching on the computer certainly couldn't have been in love with each of the men she was with, but, she sure seemed to love what she was doing, Carol thought.

"I don't think she's acting, do you, hon?" Brad asked.

"Oh no. I think she's really into it. Look at her hands. They're all over the place. I'm surprised that she's not scratching the guys. Remember when we were first married and how I would scratch your back because I was so excited?"

Brad sighed. "I remember."

"I'm even more excited now when we make love, but, I don't scratch anymore. Also, I'm sure that the woman is setting some kind of a climax record. It seems to me to be nonstop."

"You do the same thing with just one guy."

"I guess I do . . . I'm sure most of the women we have watched in other videos don't cum very much and many, not at all," Carol said.

Brad knew that this wouldn't be the last time he watched the video. The second time was even more exciting than the first and he just knew that subsequent viewing would be even better. He realized that already he was substituting in his mind his wife, Carol, for the sexual woman without a name known to him. It didn't hurt that Carol was sitting next to him totally naked and, obviously, very excited about the beginning minutes of the video that just two years ago she would have flatly refused to even watch.

Carol had to admit that even though she thought watching this stuff was wrong, she was getting turned on by it. None of the men in the video were handsome or well endowed. Nor, did they seem to be very talented lovers. Each was hard and just pounded away until he reached a powerful climax. But, each of them did their respective job in taking the woman to a higher and higher level of sexual excitement, or so it seemed to Carol. Brad was very handsome with a great body, and it appeared that his cock was as large as any of the men's in the film. Also, he would spend a lot of time on foreplay to make sure she was ready when they made love. Carol realized that she almost always thought of intercourse with her husband as making love, and now it crept into her mind that they fucked. None of the men kissed the woman. None ate her pussy. She blew them, they sucked her boobs and each fucked her, that was it and yet it was incredibly sexy to Carol. No one man could stay hard and horny long enough to keep up with a woman like the pretty woman in the video and, Carol was coming to realize, perhaps even herself. She recalled that Brad had been telling her the same thing for more than a year.

"Hey what's that white silk cloth around her waist?" He wondered out loud.

"You should know buster. It's one of your favorite things. It's a white silk teddy, unsnapped at the crotch and pulled down below her boobs." Later in the video the rolled up teddy would be removed between men 16 and 17 and then the woman would be as naked as Carol was.

While their eyes were glued to the computer screen, Brad's right hand went wandering. He rested it on her left thigh. The second it came in contact with the warm smooth skin, she instinctively parted her legs as an invitation for him to take his exploration farther, to a warmer, wetter, smoother and much more sensitive place. When he did move directly to her pussy, she lifted her right leg and placed her foot on the chair's seat leaving her completely open. 

"It's a hot flick, don't you think?" Brad asked.

"It is hot. It's not at all romantic though. No build up. Nothing really but blowing and fucking." She remembered other videos that they had watched together. "No double penetration, no anal like we've seen in other videos."

"But do you like it?" He asked.

"Ya, I do. You know baby, I don't think it's an American video. Nobody has spoken but she keeps saying ya, not yes. My guess is it's a German video. The woman could be American, but, I'm sure the men are European," Carol added. 

"I think you're right," he said as the number "4" flashed across the screen when a man with a very hairy back emptied the fluid that had been building up in his balls, deep inside the woman whose name they didn't know. "In a few minutes you'll hear the guys talk a little and the language has to be German, or some other Northern European tongue."

Carol was squirming a little in the chair which did not go unnoticed by Brad. His hand moved inside her thigh and up until it couldn't go up any more. Carol sighed, closed her big blue eyes and leaned her head back but not for very long because she didn't want to miss any of the video. Brad felt how wet she was. The juice seeping from inside her body was warm and slick -- with a viscosity that reminded him of glycerine -- like always, and, he imagined, just like the liquid produced inside the body of the woman in the video. When he slowly inserted two of his fingers as deeply inside her as he could, she grabbed his arm tightly, moaned and experienced a mini-orgasm. That's all that it took to get her off and he was the only man alive who knew it. While he was playing with her pussy, she thought --not for the first time -- how nice it would be to have another set of hands caress her. But, that's not what nice girls did, the nuns had taught her, and the lesson stuck indelibly in her mind as if it had been taught just yesterday.

The video they were watching seemed almost to be a sporting event that the participants really enjoyed, especially the highly charged woman. The event was obviously well organized. There was no indication that she knew the men or that they knew her. Some of the men wore wedding bands, as did the pretty woman, and some of the men didn't. While the video lasted 44 minutes it was obvious that there had been some basic editing and Brad guessed that the time filming would have been longer than 44 minutes, perhaps much longer. At just 5 minutes per man, the filming time would have been a little less than 150 minutes, or almost two and a half hours. But, Brad thought, because there was no foreplay, just fucking and sucking, the average time was probably less than 5 minutes per man.

After the number "13" flashed across the screen, the woman got on her hands and knees and was fucked doggy style by two of the men, then it was on her back again for the rest of the men. They guessed that she must have been about forty years old and the men at least that old and, some, maybe a few years older than the woman.

A few times during the video, the camera would move in for a close up of the woman's pretty, flushed face. Usually her eyes were closed and Carol and Brad could see the sheen of perspiration on her brow. A couple of times she blew a damp tendril of her hair out of the way. It was clear that she was almost intoxicated by the non-stop sex. With each new man she reached a higher level of intoxication, though it seemed as if it would have been impossible for her to get any higher than she was at the beginning of the video, but she did.

Chapter 3, Sunshine 

Brad had barely sat down behind his desk when Darrel stepped into his office the next morning. "Well?"

"Well, what?" asked Brad.

"Come on man," said the black man. "Did you show her the video?" 

"Yes, we watched it twice." 

"Did she bite your head off?"

"Which head?" Brad asked with a chuckle.

"So tell me all about it," Darrel said as he sat down in the chair at the side of Brad's desk, leaned back and propped his glossy cap-toe oxfords on the desktop that was always neater than his own.

"Well, Carol liked the video for the same reasons that you and I did. She was sure that the woman was totally into it."

"Did you mention the project to her?" Asked Darrel.

"There isn't any project Darrel, so there wasn't anything to mention," replied Brad to the question that he had known his friend would ask sooner, rather than later.

"But Brad, there can be a project. It's all up to you," he said as he took his feet off Brad's desk, then leaned towards Brad. "You and I get paid to manage projects. I'm sure that given enough time, and if you're motivated to make it happen, well, . . . well, it can happen." Darrel was waiting for Brad to say something, because he didn't, Darrel asked, "What do you say man? Let's do this." 

"Like I told you yesterday Darrel, it's not going to happen."

A disappointed Darrel waited a few seconds then asked, "did the video make her hot?"

"You can imagine that if we watched it twice, it did. Actually, between the two times that we watched it she fucked me dry." 

"See man. I told you," said Darrel. " If the video made her hot, it was because she could relate to the woman and what the woman must have been feeling during her gangbang."

"You're right about that. She told me the same thing. Still, Darrel, talking about it, thinking about it and doing it are three very different things," Brad said.

Darrel leaned over and said, "but, action can only happen after someone thinks about it and talks about doing something. My guess is Carol was thinking about how the woman in the video must have been feeling and you can tell me if she talked about it."

Brad remembered exactly what she had said last night, but, he wasn't about to tell Darrel everything, though as he reflected on their close friendship he realized that, eventually, he almost always did confide everything, no matter how intimate to Darrel. Last night while Carol straddled his lap during that last few minutes of the film and bounced up and down on his erection she said, "I can just imagine how she must feel after being stuffed over and over again with a new fresh, hard cock ready the instant the one she was fucking shot off and started to go flaccid." He recalled that she also said, "Brad, I guess you must be right that a woman like her, and maybe me, has a lot more capacity for sex than any healthy guy." After the screen went dark when the last man had finished, Carol nearly drug Brad to their big bed. She didn't bother to turn down the covers, but, stretched out on the quilted spread and begged for him to fuck her hard, "like the men in the video." He couldn't have been more surprised when after they had both reached powerful climaxes and rested for a few minutes she said, "want to watch it again?"

"Hey man," Darrel said smiling, "are you still with me? Penny for your thoughts."

"Sorry, Darrel. Just thinking about last night. Carol did talk about what the woman must have been feeling. She never said that was something that she wanted to do, however."

"Of course she didn't say that. It will take time and a plan to bring that out of her, but, I'm sure we can do it, what do you say?"

"Look Darrel. We'll both end up disappointed. I just know. It's not that I'm negative, but, face it, the facts aren't on our side. Carol went to Catholic schools. The nuns did a real number on her. We've been married for more than twenty years and she has never even kissed another man. Now you're talking this nonsense about her fucking thirty black men, one after the other, with just six months to get her ready."

"I'm confident that we can do it, bu, only if you want it done."

"Darrel, all of the projects that we work on here have a reasonable probability of success. I'm afraid this one just doesn't."

"What can it hurt to try?"

Brad knew that was the real question. "So what are your thoughts on this?" He asked, realizing that he sounded like they were talking about a project at work.

Darrel chuckled and said, "look, I know we have a long way to go to make this happen. There are a lot of things that have to be done that don't really concern Carol's willingness, oh like, like finding a place and finding thirty black guys. That won't be easy. I can work on that while you continue to work on Carol. I think you're farther along than you do on that score. We have the holidays coming up so I don't expect we can accomplish much until the first of the year. If everything goes according to plan, we should have everything arranged by March or April."

"Come on Darrel. Your part of all of this sounds pretty easy to me. I don't think you would have any trouble at all finding thirty guys, black or white, who would want to fuck Carol. As for a place, there are motels, swing clubs, someone's home, we can rent a hall, you name it. Can't be a great big challenge if you ask me."

"Oh, I think you're right about that," Darrel quickly agreed. The first time he saw her he thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She reminded him of the actress Charlize Theron except with long brown hair rather than short blond hair. "I wasn't saying that I wouldn't help with Carol's big conversion, hell, I'll do anything you want me to do, anything at all, I just don't know what that would be right now. Have to give it some serious thought."

"Darrel, if we go forward with this, I have to be super cautious. While I have these crazy fantasies, I would never do anything to hurt our marriage. I can't tell you how much I love Carol. Without her, life wouldn't be worth living."




The Carol Project



"Man, you haven't told me anything that I didn't already know. If Carol is as hot as you say, and I'm sure she is, my guess is that the project would make her love you even more. Hell, you would be giving her a present that most women couldn't even dream about."

"You're rationalizing, Darrel. Everything you just said may be true, but, there is a risk to this and you know it." His protests seemed feeble even to him. He knew yesterday that if there was ever any chance to make something like this happen, well he would just take the risk. He also knew that as hot as Carol got when she watched the video and recalling what she said, that there was a chance Darrel may be right. The only question was, how could he talk her into doing it in just a few months when he hadn't had any success in more than a year?

"So it sounds like you think the project may be a good idea, right?" Asked Darrel.

"Sure it's a good idea, I just don't know what more I can do to get her to agree. I've told you that she won't even think about fucking one white guy."

"Look, I can try to find more videos like the one all three of us like so much. We can feed her a steady diet of them." He thought for a second or two and then said, "I'll be willing to bet you that when you get home tonight she will have watched the video again."

He remembered that he left the piece of paper on the stand next to the computer with the URL and the directions that Darrel had jotted down yesterday. He too wondered if she would be tempted to take another look at the video with the insatiable woman.

Just fifteen minutes away from Brad's office, in the big old house on Trammel Lane, Carol couldn't get the fabulous night she had enjoyed with her husband out of her head. She knew that the video had added a new dimension to their love making. She saw how much it turned Brad on but was shocked when she asked him why it made him so hot and he responded, "I can't help thinking that you are the woman in the video. Sorry baby, that's the truth. I would love it if you could enjoy yourself as much as she did."

"She did have fun, no doubt about that. But, Brad, I'm not her."

"No, you're not her. You're much more beautiful than she is and much sexier."

"Oh, you . . ."

"I'm not kidding Carol and you know it."

"Well if you want to fantasize about it that's okay, just don't get your hopes up, buster." she said playfully as she poked him in the ribs. "I don't think I could ever do what she did," she added thoughtfully, seeming to open the door, just a smidgen, which surprised him, nonetheless. 

Carol reminded herself, that was last night. This morning, she was restless. The big old house was empty except for her. She had no plans for the day which seemed to be more and more typical for her. She was drawn to the corner of their bedroom like a moth to a flaming candle. She seemed to be on autopilot as she sat down in the chair facing the computer. She typed in x....ter.com and in no time she was on the site whose address was written on the slip of paper on the stand. This time she didn't go directly to the video but experimented and found that she could also navigate to more than ten thousand other free videos. This site was so much bigger and better than any of the other free sites that she and Brad had visited in the past, or any of the DVDs that he had bought at adult book stores. Not only did the variety of clips on this new site seem endless, they came up lightning fast. As she became familiar with how the site was organized, it seemed to her as if everyday dozens of new clips were posted. Some were women with women, most were women with one or more men. There were white and black men and women. She saw that many of the clips were from Europe, some from South America, but most were from the US. She noted that each video was rated by the viewers together with the number of times it had been watched. Five red Xs was the top score possible and she was stunned to see that some of the videos had been watched more than a million times. Guess I'm not to only person who likes this stuff, she told herself.

That day Carol spent more than two hours at the computer and ended by viewing the video that she and Brad had watched the night before. She felt very guilty about wasting so much time, and even more guilty because of the feelings that watching the salacious videos had conjured in her. Brad wasn't there and it was his idea that they watch the porn together to heat up their love lives. Now, she had been watching alone for the first time in her life and getting very turned on. She had mixed feelings. A part of her hated the women in the videos and what they were doing. Another part, that she tried her very best to suppress but without much success, envied them.

She wondered about the women in the videos and especially the woman in -- what she had come to think of as -- their video. Who was she? Carol was pretty sure that she was married because of the ring on the third finger of her left hand. Did she have children? Did she work outside the home? Was she happy with her life? Carol knew that if she saw the woman on the street she would think, my what a pretty, classy lady. Never in a million years would she think, wow, that's a woman that would fuck twenty-nine guys one after the other. The question that was the most puzzling was: why did the mystery woman participate in the video which was about the wildest thing Carol could imagine? Was it the woman's idea or someone else's idea, say her husband's? If it was someone else's idea did she jump at the first opportunity, or did it take time for her to become a willing -- actually an extremely enthusiastic -- participant? 

Twice during the time she watched the videos she used her fingers to bring herself off and had to clean the cushion on their computer chair. Masturbating was something she seldom did because there was no need for her to do that because Brad's fingers, his tongue, and especially his cock were always there to take care of her sexual needs. But, just maybe, her sexual needs were greater than she had realized, she thought for the first time as she rationalized her behavior. 

Carol found herself thinking about sex all the time. Of course when she watched the videos she was thinking about the sex, but even before she sat down in front of the computer to watch and be inflamed with forbidden thoughts, she found herself thinking about watching and then after viewing them she thought about when she would watch again. When she was driving the car, shopping, cooking, cleaning the house, her thoughts were almost always about the things Brad was telling her that turned him on, or recalling a particular scene in a video that excited her. She had heard, or read somewhere, that the average man has sexual thoughts hundreds of times during the day. Someone else suggested that the average man thinks of sex just once each day, but for twenty four hours. She wondered if she wasn't becoming like the average man, thinking about sex almost constantly and it concerned her. Often, she found herself ashamed and disgusted with the new feelings that were stimulated by watching the videos and listening to Brad's bold and -- she thought -- very un-husbandly ideas for her.

October raced by with a high school Football game scheduled every Friday or Saturday night. The old hardwood trees on the front and back yards of the big old house on Trammel Lane had shed their brightly colored leaves and would now rest for a season or two. On Wednesday nights they met at the bowling center for the city league. Brad noticed that Darrel was much more attentive to Carol than before. The touches, hugs and jokes -- that were coarser than before -- seemed natural, but Brad knew they were all part of a devious plan, the too familiar touches and the sexy banter were a part of Darrel's contribution to the project.. "Hey what's going on with you and Darrel?" he asked one night as they were driving home from the bowling center.

"What on earth do you mean?"

"Looks to me like he's getting pretty familiar with you."

"Oh you. Darrel's like a big brother to me," she said knowing that Brad was right. She also sensed that Darrel felt he could hold her longer, invade her space and press against her side when they were standing or sitting by each other. And his touches, well his touches lingered and were in places he never would have touched just a month before. Not that his seemingly innocent contacts with his black hand were in places that were obviously out of bounds, but his hand would frequently come to rest on her thigh, and as time went on, they were higher and higher on her thigh which she knew was very un-big brotherly but, nonetheless, they were never rebuffed by her. To have rebuffed Darrel's touches would have been to acknowledge them and about that she was in denial, therefore, it wasn't really happening she told herself over and over.

Before they knew it the holidays were upon them. Thanksgiving, when all the family gathered at their home -- including Brad's parents and two of his siblings -- marked the kickoff of the very busy, festive annual season for the Taylors. Darrel and Ruthie came over after thanksgiving dinner and enjoyed dessert with them. Then it was back to college for the two oldest kids, even if just for a few weeks before the Christmas' break.

To Brad, it seemed as if the project had been placed on hold. Little did he know that Darrel had been very busy during the same period when he had been consumed with: shopping, decorating the house, buying the perfect freshly cut tree, picking kids up at the airport, addressing and mailing cards and the thousand other things that were always a part of his holiday season. Also, little did Brad know that even though Carol didn't know that she had become a project for himself and his black, best friend, she was doing her part by watching other women with many men whenever she could steal a private moment or two out of each day on their computer. Little did Carol know that she was slowly, step by step, becoming a little more vulnerable to the whisperings and prodding of her husband during and after their couplings that had increased in both frequency and intensity. Almost daily, in the aftermath of great sex, his breathy voice painted sizzling, forbidden word pictures in her mind -- that seemed to be just a bit more open to his suggestions than it had ever been. 

One night just before the holiday season ended, Carol confessed her almost addiction to watching porn by herself when Brad was at work. It started with an innocent question: "Brad, honey, what's a MILF?" She didn't even try to pronounce it as a word but spelled it out letter by letter.

"Ha ha. Baby, you're a Milf."

"So then tell me."

"It's an acronym. A MILF is a mom I'd like to fuck. You're a mom that every man would like to fuck," he explained as he looked into her eyes and saw a blush cover her face. "Where in the world did you hear about Milfs?"

"Oh, I don't remember, I heard it somewhere," she lied, knowing that she had seen it many times on the website where their video was posted. What Brad had told her was pretty much what she had figured out for herself, so why did she even bring it up? She never lied to Brad, because it wasn't ever necessary. Had the conversation ended there he might never have discovered what she had been doing when he was at work and Tim was at school, but she went on, needing to unburden herself of the unbearably heavy feeling of guilt. "Okay, so what about DP and creampies?"

Brad propped himself up on his elbow looked at her with a renewed curiosity and answered, "well, I think you know that DP is double penetration which usually means a cock in the ass and the pussy at the same time. We've talked about that before. And creampies, well, I thought you understood too that it isn't a bakery product, in this context, ha ha, that it's when a guy shoots bareback in a pussy, not in a condom, and his jizz oozes out of the woman's pussy."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," she said reddening even more and obviously embarrassed, not just because of the sex talk but also because she was thinking Brad might see her as naive.

"Baby, do you want to be creampied?"

"That's what we do every time."

"I mean by somebody else."

"Of course not. It's just your cream that I want inside me."

"Carol," he said with real interest, "where did all of this come from?"

"Oh, you'll hate me," she blurted out . . . unable to keep the dark secret to herself for another moment. "Anyway, ever since you came home with the instructions on how to get to the site with our video, I find myself watching that gross stuff a lot. It's almost like I'm addicted to it. I'm sorry Brad, I know we were only supposed to watch this stuff together."

He thought she was going to cry. "Baby, nothing to be sorry about. I'm fine with you watching it."

"But Brad it makes me . . . it makes me horny. I feel terrible about it. I must be a slut, a nympho or something, maybe I need counseling, or medication."

"Carol you're healthy. Hey, I'm okay with this," he said with a smile knowing that Darrel would tell him, "I told you so," when he reported what Carol had been doing.

"But honey, I have to tell you that when I watch some of those videos I find myself wondering what it would feel like. I mean, I think we fit together perfectly but some of those guys . . . well anyway I can't help but wonder . . . "

Brad thought maybe he hadn't heard her correctly but he knew that he had. "That's natural baby. I know you've never been interested before, but what about trying a big toy?"

"I'm still not interested in that," she said shaking her head. "Let's face it, you've spoiled me for the real thing. I can't imagine a cold, lifeless piece of rubber or plastic it just wouldn't be the same thing for me. No, for me, for the total experience it would have to be alive and attached to a real man. Also," she paused looked away for a few seconds, then with some difficulty continued with her confession, "also, I can't help but think about all the stuff you've been talking about . . . I mean, you know . . . well more than more guy. I've got to stop this, it's just wrong."

"Carol honey, every adult is a sexual creature until they wither up. Think about it, if fucking wasn't fun the human race would end."

"Sure, of course, but that's to express love and to have children, that's not what I'm talking about Brad."

"I know that baby, but think about the woman in the video, she didn't love those men, she wasn't going to have their baby, she was just having a great time, a better time than she could ever have had with her husband, with any one guy no matter how much of stud he might be. I'm sure she isn't crazy, she doesn't need therapy or medication, she's just a healthy woman," he paused for emphasis, looked into her eyes and said, "she's just like you. You haven't done anything wrong, honey. There's nothing for you to feel guilty about."

"That's easy for you to say, and thanks for trying to make me feel better, but I still think watching that stuff, listening to your ideas that don't sound as crazy and as impossible now, as they once did, and feeling the way I've been feeling is wrong and I'm frightened Brad," she explained as she clung tightly to his warm, familiar body.

Chapter 4, Fertilizing

It was the first day back at work in the new year when Darrel said, "well, now that the holidays are behind us, I think the project should be our number one priority, don't you?"

"Three months have elapsed," answered Brad, "just three to go if we're going to make this happen on schedule."

"It's all up to you pal," said Darrel. "Actually, I'm much farther along than I've reported to you on my part of the deal. I thought it best to wait until we were back to work to talk about it. Anyway, I've found this place in Columbus. It's a swinger's club called Club B&W that caters to interracial couples. A pal of mine, guy named William, goes there all the time. Don't get pissed, but I told him all about the project. We've been talking for a few weeks and . . . well, he talked with the couple that own the place. He tells me that they can get thirty hung black guys on short notice and they've offered to make their place available as the scene of the crime," he said with a chuckle..

"I'm not pissed Darrel." Brad was more like incredibly curious and very interested in what his buddy had been up to, though he didn't let on. Also, he realized that when Darrel told William about the project he must have described Carol in detail to a total stranger which caused the space in the front of his pants to shrink just a bit. "So tell me about this Club B&W," he said trying to sound more casual about his interest than he really was.

"Like I said, it's in Columbus, an hour and a half drive up I-71, as if you didn't know how to get to Columbus. This couple is building a big house where they'll hold parties in the future, now the parties are held once a month in their apartment. I think they actually started in Cleveland, not that it matters. Anyway, William told me that they have a party scheduled for this Friday, I thought you should talk with Carol about going. What do you say?"

"Wow! This Friday, that's kind of short notice. I don't know if she's ready," he said even though he did know that she was much more ready than Darrel probably thought she was, because he hadn't told Darrel anything about her porn watching confession, though he intended to when the time was right. 

"Nothing has to happen at the party," said Darrel. "I just thought this would be an important step, a really big step. Like I said, she wouldn't have to do anything at all. William told me that not everyone participates. But, think about it Brad, just being there and watching all the action in person would be a hell of a lot better than watching the videos to advance the project," Darrel said excitedly. "At least that's what I think."

"Darrel, there's no doubt you're right about that. Just remember though, Carol's never even seen another guy fucking in the flesh. She might freak out or, more likely, refuse to go anyway."

"Well, can't hurt to ask her, can it?"

"I will. Tonight in bed, probably when I'm between her legs, I'll tell her I would like to go." 

That was exactly the way it turned out. That night they started fooling around, which seemed to be a daily occurrence, not just two or three times a week as it had been before the project had been initiated. The fooling around, the kissing touching and exploring led to what they both loved the best, Carol on her back with her long legs splayed as wide as possible with Brad between them. They were connected by his penis which penetrated her juicy pussy to the hilt. The friction of their opposing movements stimulated them more than anything else. Both had been talking more during intercourse than they had before that day when they watched their video for the first time together. Now, three months later, they had watched the video together dozens of times and never tired of it. Carol, however, had watched it more than Brad because she watched it many times when he was at work, and, then again, when he returned and they watched it together. 

"Oh baby you feel so good. Like warm butter on velvet wrapped around and massaging my throbbing dick."

"Brad, honey I . . . I can't tell you how much I love you inside me . . . how much I love fucking you. How . . . how much I love to be fucked."

"Darrel told me today that a friend of his goes to this place in Columbus, I guess it's a swinger's club or something like that. They apparently . . . oh shit, baby, don't squeeze me or I'll come too soon." He caught his breath and continued, "Lay still for a second, okay? I'll just soak in your cunt while I tell you about this place."




The Carol Project



"Okay, I'll be a good girl," Carol said, though she could barely talk because she was panting so heavily and she knew that he didn't really want her to be a good girl he really wanted her to be a very bad girl.

"Anyway, Brad continued, "they hold these parties once a month and they're having one this Friday, Darrel thought we might be interested in going. What do you think?

This wasn't the first time that Brad had talked with her about going to a swing club. He would always tell her that they didn't have to do anything, just check it out, then he would laugh and say, "not for credit, just to audit." He would remind her, even more often since they started watching their video -- and she had unknowingly become the project of her husband and his friend -- that if they enjoyed watching videos so much, "just imagine how great it would be to see the real thing in the flesh."

"Brad, I've told you over and over that I'm not interested in that."

"I know you have. However, until now it has all been theoretical. I didn't know of a place or a time when a party would be held, now I do. I really would like to go. It's far enough away that we wouldn't know anyone. Well," he corrected himself, "we wouldn't know anyone but Darrel."

"Darrel? He plans on coming too?"

"Why not?"

"Surely, Ruthie's not coming," she said, as more of a statement than a question.

"Hell no. You know Darrel has a private life."

"I'd be uncomfortable with Darrel there."

"Does that mean you'll go if he doesn't go with us?"

She paused before answering. There was no pretense at love making for the moment, and she felt his cock going soft inside her as the discussion took over their thoughts. "Like you've said before, we wouldn't have to do anything and I can promise you that I won't do anything if we do go," she answered.

Her implicit agreement was like a shot in his arm. Well, actually, it was more like a shot in his cock, a shot that made it stone hard once again. As he began to deeply thrust into her, she planted her feet on the mattress and pushed up against him. He was reminded of the woman in their video as he looked down at the beautiful face of his wife. She closed her eyes and began to gasp for air. Her moans and groans and familiar sounds were every bit as sincere and enthusiastic as the woman in their video. Within a minute they simultaneously reached the point where there was no holding back -- not that it mattered if she held back because she was always ready for more -- but for Brad when he shot inside her and emptied his sperm in her moist cavity, it was over for hours. And that night it was over for Brad, the fucking was over, not the conversation.

For both of them the familiar afterglow was almost as good as the love making. Carol cradled her head on his broad shoulder and asked, "what made you think I'd be okay if Darrel came with us?"

"He made all the arrangements. Also, it's an interracial club. Guess what, neither of us is black."

"Oh, I didn't know," she giggled and thought an explanation was required, "of course silly, I know were not black, what I meant was I didn't know it was an interracial club."

"Does the interracial thing bother you?"

"You know I'm not prejudiced. If we're just going to watch, the black and white part won't be a problem for me. We've seen dozens of black on white videos." She didn't tell him that the interracial category was becoming one of her favorites on the site she frequented because the very idea was so forbidden.

"So, should I tell him tomorrow that we're going?"

Everything she had ever been taught about fidelity, modesty and decency rebelled with her answer, that had become inevitable over the past month and was awaiting the question, "If that's what you really want." She placed her chin in her hand and said with a nervous smile that he always found so adorable, "and, if he really wants to go and that's the only way we can get in, then tell him we'll be happy if he joins us." 

The next morning Brad walked into Darrel's office, closed the door behind him, placed both hands on Darrel's metal desk, leaned over and said, "you're not going to believe it man, Carol has agreed to go to Columbus with us on Friday."

Darrel stood up, gave Brad a high-five and said, "that's great. From everything you've been telling me these past months I've thought she was much closer to doing this than you thought she was. I'll call my friend and have him set everything up."

The morning for both men was fairly typical; though Darrel had been busy on non-company business by making and receiving several cell phone calls to and from his friend William. It was at lunch, seated at a table for two in the corner of the huge cafeteria, that Darrel broke the news to Brad about what he had learned during the several phone calls. "We've got a problem with Friday night," he said in a voice not much above a whisper, though with the noise in the cafeteria, he probably didn't need to even lower his voice to keep their conversation private.

"Did you talk with your buddy."

"Yeah, I did and that's the problem."

"Go on, tell me about it."

"It's a fucking shame because I think Carol's almost there. Anyway, he said that we can't go as a threesome because they don't allow single guys on party nights like the one scheduled for Friday . . ."

"Oh shit, I'm sorry man. I know how much you wanted to go with us."

"Let me finish. Like I said they don't allow single guys at this couples only party. Also, the couple has to be interracial. Black woman, white man or black man white woman."

"Fuck! That's too bad. I thought it would be great to get Carol there. And, who knows, in spite of everything she said about not doing anything there, once things got going maybe she would get going too."

Both men were somber as they finished the rest of their meals in near silence. How does it go Brad asked himself, oh yes, "the best laid plans . . . " He had a hard time concentrating on the company project that he was working on that afternoon. He found himself thinking more and more about the special, private project that had nearly consumed himself and Darrel. Finally, after pondering about every combination he could imagine, he thought that he might have a solution so he walked into Darrel's office and asked, "got a minute?"

"Sure do. What's on your mind?"

"I really want Carol to go to the party on Friday. If I can't go with her, then maybe you should take her."

Darrel had thought the very same thing, but he sure wasn't going to be the one to bring it up. "I don't have a problem with that. And, I'm sure that it would advance our project. But what about Carol?"

"Who knows? I could never have imagined that she would consider going under any circumstance. Maybe, just maybe, if I'm careful about how I present this idea, on Friday she might ride with you to Columbus, go to the party and watch lots of people fucking."

"Brad, you need to carefully think about this. What are my limits? I think Carol is the most beautiful and the hottest woman on the planet. Being with her at a fuck party without you, well man, I need to know what you expect of me."

"That's fair enough. As you know very well, I've been working on this long before we initiated the project. Now, things are actually moving. Darrel, there aren't any limits on what you can do. Oh, of course I don't want her to have to do something she doesn't want to do. Other than that, take it as far as you can. If she agrees to go, I expect you to tell me everything that happens."

Brad was surprised when Darrel actually stuck his big hand out and said, "you've got a deal. I guess I should say we've got a deal," he said, laughing nervously as the two conspirators shook hands. 

That night on the big bed in the master bedroom in the old house on Trammel Lane, it was Carol who brought up the subject of the party on Friday night. Like the night before and most recent nights before that, she was sweaty from their half hour session of wild sex when she asked, "so did Darrel make the arrangements for the party?"

Without beating around the bush Brad said, "we've got a problem. I should have told you when I got home from work. Darrel talked to his friend and found out that single men can't attend."

"Oh that's too bad for Darrel. I had actually come to accept the fact that I would have a handsome man on each arm at the party."

"Not so fast honey. Remember I told you that this was an interracial party?"

"I remember."

"Well, the couple has to be interracial."

"I don't understand. I guess that means no party on Friday then." 

"Not necessarily," Brad said softly.

Carol propped herself up on her elbow, her brow was furled and then, suddenly, her eyes widened at the implication. "You're thinking of Darrel and me?" 

"Why not?"

"Brad, I didn't even want to go in the first place. And Darrel, well . . . well you know Darrel's like a big brother to me."

"Think about what you just said Carol. You were very specific when you said, 'you didn't want to go,' doesn't that suggest that after you thought about it you now want to go? And . . . " 

"Okay, okay maybe you're right . . . "

"Let me finish baby. And, if you really don't want to do anything, then going with someone you think of as a brother is about the safest thing I can think of. I would be willing to bet anything that if I was there, we would fuck, and maybe even in front of other people."

Carol was silent and Brad thought it best to let her digest what he had said. Finally she asked, "So you really want me to go to the party in Columbus with Darrel? You really want your wife and your best friend to drive a hundred miles to a swinger's club and, at the very least, watch what goes on there?"

"Yeah baby, that is what I'm saying."

"What if Darrel get's excited?"

"What if he does?"

"Come on Brad, don't answer a question with a question. You know exactly what I mean. What if your buddy wants to kiss me?"

"There's no doubt about that. I know for certain that he does want to kiss you. He's confessed that many times. I've told you that we've talked about the videos. He's my friend, Carol, we've talked about nearly everything, but I've told you all of that before. I'd be okay with him kissing you."

"And, if he wanted to do more?" She challenged.

"Carol, today Darrel expressed the same concern to me. He wanted to know what his limits were with you."

"And, what did you tell him?"

"I've never made it a secret Carol, I told him that if he wanted to do more than kiss and you wanted to do more than kiss, then that would be okay with me. If he wanted to stick his big black dong in your sweet, wet pussy -- that so far has been mine exclusively -- then I would be glad to share with him and that would be fine by me."

"Oh Brad, please don't say that. I'm sure you don't really mean it."

"You're wrong, baby, I really do mean it. What should I tell him when I see him at work tomorrow?"

"What do you want to tell him?" she asked without looking at him.

"I want to tell him that we talked it over and that you want to go to the party in Columbus with him on Friday."

"All right," she said so softly he could hardly hear her. "Brad, don't get your hopes up. I'll go with Darrel but nothing's going to happen, that's a promise."

"Be careful what you promise, honey."

Even though it had only been a few minutes earlier when Brad stiffened and emptied his balls in his beautiful wife's warm, wet vagina, he found himself getting hard just by hearing two words. But the words meant much more than "all right," they meant that for the first time in her life she would go out with another man. She implicitly agreed that she might kiss him and that she might do more than kiss him. She agreed that the place where all of this might happen would be in an apartment in the city where they went to college and that they would be watching other couples of mixed races in the throes of passion. All of this caused him to pull her to him and wedge his body against hers. And then, he was in her for the second time in a very few minutes. 

"MMMMM. Looks like someone got turned on. Wonder why?" She murmured. Then they talking stopped.

Brad found himself smiling even though he was fighting a near blizzard on his drive to work the next morning The wipers on his Jeep Wrangler were struggling to keep up with wind-driven flakes. The trip usually lasted for fifteen minutes, this morning, it took him half an hour, but that didn't seem to bother Brad at all. Today, nothing was going to bother him.

He was actually softly whistling when he hung up his top coat and made his way to Darrel's office. "Guess what Darrel?"

"You got me, what?"

"You've got a date Friday night with a gorgeous brunette."

"I can hardly believe it. Remember, Brad, it was just three months ago when you said there was no chance of Carol doing what the video gal did?"

"I remember all right, you don't need to remind me. But, we're still a long way from making that happen. I'm not sure we've really made anything happen yet. She has agreed to go with you to the party, nothing more than that."

The days seemed to whiz by for Darrel, Brad and especially for Carol. She kept busy doing the things that girls do as they prepare for a date. For her, this would be her only date with a man, other than her husband, since she was sixteen. Her dates before she met Brad, however, were never with men, but with boys. On those dates, holding hands, kissing but no tongue and a clumsy feel outside her clothes was the most that ever happened. She asked Brad what she should wear because even though he wouldn't be there, she wanted him to be a part of this, oh this . . . what would one call it, "an adventure," she finally decided, fit the situation perfectly. 

While Carol's days whizzed by at least one night was painfully long: She was sitting behind a large wooden table. Seated next to her on her right was a gray-haired, thick-bodied woman that she barely knew. Seated at an identical table was Brad and Chip Stanley who had been a college friend of both Brad and Carol. Chip went on to law school and was the closest thing to a family attorney that the Taylors ever needed. No one was smiling including the man, seated up high and facing the two tables. He was clothed in black, with gray brush cut hair, shaggy eyebrows and a ruddy complexion from too many martinis who seemed to be looking down with disdain, and only at her, even when he addressed Chip Stanley, "are you ready counselor?"

"I am your honor."

"You may proceed."

Chip rose, cleared his throat and said, "this is a very simple case your honor. The Taylors have been married for nearly 23 years. They have three great children. They have lived here all of their lives. About a year ago, Mrs. Taylor began to dabble with porn on the Internet. At first it was just an infrequent distraction from her life and then it became an insidious habit, really an uncontrollable addiction, which eventually led to her going to a party in Columbus with her husband's very best friend." He paused for effect. "You heard me right, her husband's very best friend," he emphasized. There was no mention that it was Brad, initially, who wanted to watch porn, not her. It was Brad who almost begged her to go to the party with Darrel against her objections, "just to audit," he said with a laugh, "not for credit." Then Chip Stanley continued, "It was there at the party in Columbus that she engaged in sexual intercourse with the friend and several other men who were there. Your honor, understandably, Mr. Taylor and her children want this woman -- he said "this woman" like it was something vile and filthy that he had to spit from his mouth -- out of their lives forever. They never want to see 'this woman' ever again" . . . Chip paused, looked directly at her, pointed his finger and then proclaimed in a loud voice that would have been shouting if it were a single decibel higher, "she's a tramp, a slut and a whore! She's forfeited forever the right to be called a faithful wife and caring mother. The only thing she cares about is satisfying what's in her twisted selfish mind and scratching an itch deep inside her. Judge, the children are ashamed of her and her husband hates her. We don't need to waste the court's time your honor. I have a dozen witnesses who will testify to everything that happened at the party. Furthermore, I have photos and a video. Most important, however, Mrs. Taylor herself, has stipulated to everything I've just said," he paused and waved several pages in the air. "This farcical marriage has to end your honor under the terms demanded by my client and submitted to the court."

"Counselor, this court concurs with everything you've said," said the man in the black robe as he stood up, grabbed the handle of the oak gavel in his stubby fingers and raised it high in the air like the Liberty statue holding the torch. Before he could swing the gavel down, however, Carol with tears streaming down her red cheeks jumped to her feet and screamed, "NO! NO! NO!" 

"Baby, baby, wake up," Brad urged as he held her trembling, damp nude body next to his. "You were having a nightmare."

"Oh Brad, oh Brad, it it . . . it was horrible!"

"Tell me about it honey," he said soothingly.

And so she did tell him about it, every detail of her terrifying dream. They talked long into the still black night and into the dawn of the new day. They both agreed that they would be moving into a new and different world -- perhaps, she suggested, even a dangerous world -- by her agreeing to go to the party with Darrel, even if just to "audit." Finally, the momentarily derailed Friday night party train was righted, put back on track and moving again because she, at long last, realized that Brad really, really did want her to be different than the girl he had married and the wife that had stood faithfully by his side for all those years. For reasons she would never really understand -- and thought that he might not understand himself -- he, nonetheless, really did want her to be like the woman in their video, the woman with no-name but who had an unquenchable thirst for what they assumed was a parade of hard European cocks. Carol didn't think she could ever do what the woman in the video had done but, she decided again, that maybe she could at least go to a party and just watch what was going on if doing that would make Brad happy.

She seldom visited the beauty parlor but on Wednesday she did. They tried to sell her on the idea of cutting her hair short, she resisted their entreatment and left with a new, looser, sexier style that was not so very different from what she did herself for special occasions. They also nearly begged her to have a French manicure and pedicure, she insisted that only the crimson shade Brad loved so much, would cover each nail on her fingers and toes. Also, she sure didn't want her nails to be shaped square, that was just too masculine for her, no matter how cool everyone at the beauty parlor said it was. And, every night she and Brad made frantic love with him whispering in her ear what could happen to her at the party, actually, what he wanted to happen to her at the party.

"Baby, just imagine a new cock, a big cock, a black cock, fucking you, fucking you. Think of lots of cocks, big cocks, big hard cocks, big hard blacks cocks."

"Oh Brad, don't say that," but her protest was feeble while her cunt muscles were strong and sent a contradictory message to her husband that he took as encouragement and so he continued his efforts to inflame her with his words. 

She bought a sexy, clingy little black cocktail dress that she thought would be just perfect for Friday night. The hem fell to a several inches above her knees. There was no back to the revealing frock and the plunging bodice showed just a hint of cleavage, not that she had that much to show anyway. She didn't plan to wear a bra or panties because Brad hated them, but that sort of changed on Thursday.




The Carol Project



Darrel had been talking with his friend William everyday about Friday night but, somehow, the subject of what the people wore at the party didn't come up until Thursday afternoon. "The guys can wear their skivvies or a towel wrapped around their waist after eleven o'clock, the women usually wear lingerie, some even go naked," William told Darrel

When Darrel reported the conversation to Brad, Brad thought that it might be a problem and derail the party train once again and for a few minutes it was an issue when he called her cell phone. "Carol, Darrel was talking with his friend, William, and learned that the women have to wear lingerie after dinner."

"How come he just found out? Maybe I shouldn't go," she said without a lot of conviction, because for days she found herself actually looking forward to the adventure in Columbus.

"Panties and a bra aren't that much different than a bikini."

"Oh you men," she said mildly exasperated. "One is for swimming at the beach and the other is to make guys hot and want to fuck us. That's a big difference I would say. What if we just left right after dinner?" she wondered.

"I imagine Darrel, and probably all of the other men there too, would be very disappointed."

Finally, they decided that she would wear her black teddy. She hoped that the lights would be dim because the teddy was pretty transparent. However, when she thought of the woman in their video -- and she thought about her a lot -- she remembered that during the first half of the film the woman wore a teddy that was unsnapped at the crotch and pulled down below her breasts. The woman's teddy, that she wore in the video, was white silk or satin, while Carol's would be black and gossamer. Everything was back on track.

It was tense at work that Friday. It was Darrel who said at the end of the day, "looks to me like we're ahead of schedule on our project."

"You might say that," Brad replied. "We'll know a lot more in twenty-four hours than we do now about our project." 

Chapter 5, Sprouting

At five-thirty, Carol ran a hot tub and sprinkled lavender scented crystals on its surface. As she stepped into the steaming water, the thick layer of tiny white bubbles floating on its surface reminded her of the froth on a freshly drawn mug of tap beer. After Carol had immersed herself, she realized that while she and the video gal had a lot in common, there was one thing that was different about them; the woman was shaved bare while she left a tiny patch of shaped pubic fur above the cleft of her pussy. As she shaved her legs and underarms she wondered if she should remove the hair on her vulva too, to be more like the woman in their video. Finally, she decided against it. The little bit of sparse, dark hair made her feel feminine. Also, she knew that Brad loved it just like it was. So, like always -- at least for the last year -- she carefully shaved the sides and between her legs. Now, her legs and the area at the top of her legs was silky smooth with a tiny dark patch above her cleft. After she finished shaving and while she was rubbing lotion into the freshly shaved area, she wanted so much to touch the sensitive little bud that always, these days, wanted to come out of its hood and play. But, she didn't touch it, instead she spritzed her special occasion perfume on the inside of each elbow, the inside of both wrists, under her thick mane of hair that covered the back of her neck, behind each knee and then, for the first time ever, the fragrant mist was aimed at her crotch.

After she stepped into the tissue paper thin black teddy, wriggled and pulled it up over her ass and boobs, she adjusted the tiny shoulder straps and then put on the black, cocktail dress. She had never liked the visibility of two sets of straps over her nearly bare shoulders -- she thought it looked sloppy and couldn't understand why the younger girls seemed to think the more straps showing the better -- but that night the straps of her dress wouldn't cover the straps of the teddy. She was reminded that the little black cocktail dress was more suited for summer evenings rather than bitter cold winter nights as she slipped it on over her squeaky clean and perfumed body that seemed to be glowing. She hadn't worn pantyhose for several years because Brad really hated them. He liked stockings and garter belts, but they just wouldn't work with the teddy, she told herself. Then, she pointed the painted bare toes of her left foot -- always, for some reason the left foot first -- and stepped into a pair of her highest heel, black patent leather pumps that she knew drove Brad crazy. The only jewelry that adorned her body was the band of gold on the third finger of her left hand that had been there since their wedding day and the fake diamond studs in each pierced, dainty earlobe. When Brad came home she was sitting in front of the vanity mirror in their bathroom doing her makeup. Darrel was picking her up at six-thirty, that left her with less than half an hour.

As she pursed her lips and applied a heavier than normal coat of red lipstick, Brad walked into the bathroom that smelled of her preparations and said, "Carol, you are a living wet dream."

"What a thing to say to your wife," she responded with a sexy smile letting him know that what he had said was exactly the right thing.

"Stand up and give me a twirl."

"Hang on a sec, let me finish up here. Why don't you pour us a drink. I need something to take the edge off before I fall to pieces."

Ten minutes later she glided into the family room where Brad sat on the old, comfortable brown couch with an icy drink in his hand. She didn't sit by him but stood before him, a hand on her hip, legs akimbo and posed. " Is that for me?" she asked as she leaned over and picked up the drink that he had mixed for her from the coffee table.

"Nope, it's for my girl friend. She's coming over the second you leave and I want to get her drunk so I can jump her bones."

"Oh, Brad, please don't tease about that. I want to be the only girl for you."

He knew she was as serious as a heart attack. As he looked up at her with loving eyes, he said, "oh, baby, oh my sweet baby, that's something you will never have to worry about. You will always be the only girl for me." After he took a sip of his drink he said, "now, I think you owe me that twirl."

She laughed, set her drink down, stepped back, did a spin, faced him and placed her hands on her hips. "How was that?"

"Beautiful, just beautiful. Now lift up your skirt."

"She held the hem in each hand and lifted it about an inch, teasing him.

"Come on, baby, you know what I want."

And she did know what he wanted. She lifted until the hem was around her waist revealing to his gaze the very high cut teddy that completely left bare each smooth hip. "Is that better?" She asked in a husky voice. "Can you see too much?"

"That is better and I can't imagine how anyone could ever see too much of you. Don't worry about it," he said realizing that her trimmed pubic patch and just a hint of the cleft below it, could easily be seen through the gossamer cloth. He knew that the same cloth covered her perky boobs and small, very sensitive nipples, each surrounded by pebbly areolas of nearly the same shade of skin. No matter how dim the lighting at the party in Columbus, if she did remove her dress after dinner, everyone would see what only he had seen before. He felt himself becoming aroused thinking, for the hundredth time, about the possibilities of what could happen later that night.

Darrel was just a few minutes away from the house on Trammel Lane. He was glad that the weather had improved. Though it was very cold outside, inside the candy apple, red Corvette, it was warm as toast. When he turned fifty, the first thing he did was buy the powerful sports car. Ruthie didn't talk with him for a week after he brought it home. "You're like a kid going through puberty for the second time," she hollered, "you know we can't afford that." He knew that she was partially right on both counts. They really couldn't afford it and maybe he was entering a second puberty. He found himself thinking about every girl he had ever fucked and longed once again for those feelings residing in his distant past that had been so exciting to him when he was younger. A few years ago, he discovered porn and found that watching it gave him a boost that was next best to actually doing what he was watching. He was so glad that his best friend and office mate seemed to like the same things he did. Even though Brad was ten years younger than he was, they seemed to be kindred souls. They talked about everything including their sex lives. His had become non-existent at home while Brad's was every man's dream. The perfect wife, great kids and an okay but very secure job. The perfect wife is what Darrel envied the most and he made no secret about that when they had their conversations. And now he was on his way to their house to pick up the perfect wife of his friend. Maybe dreams do come true after all, he thought, as he pulled up in the driveway of the big, old house on Trammel Lane. 

Carol dropped and smoothed her skirt and said, "sounds like Darrel's early. I'll get my coat."

Brad didn't wait for the doorbell, he opened the door about the same time Darrel, whose misty breath warmed the chill-night air, stepped onto the covered porch. In the foyer, Brad turned around and helped his wife put on her best winter coat.

It was an awkward moment as the three friends stood in the entry. Finally, it was Brad who said, "well drive carefully, Darrel, and don't do anything that I wouldn't do."

"Carol stepped into her husband's arms, kissed him on the lips, then whispered in his ear, "what does that mean?"

He leaned down, whispering back in her ear and said, "exactly what you think it means. It's okay if you do nothing and it's okay if you do everything and everyone."

She pulled back, looked at him and said, "I love you Brad. Wish you could come with us."

Darrel was uncomfortable witnessing the goodbye ritual and was looking down at his feet. Finally, Carol turned from her husband, and said to Darrel, "Okay, I'm ready to go." Both men wondered what, exactly, she meant by that. Did it mean anything more than I'm ready to go outside and get in your car?

As Darrel held the passenger door open to the low, powerful car with its engine still running, he said, "it's pretty warm in there, might want to take off your coat for the trip."

She did, tossed it in the back seat next to his coat, quickly got in and buckled the seat belt as Darrel closed her door. She soon realized that the low seats made it almost impossible to keep most of her thighs covered by her dress which wanted to slip up. Finally, as the car backed out of the driveway, she knew that she couldn't ride all the way to Columbus pulling at the bottom of her dress to keep more of her legs covered. Within a few miles most of her gorgeous legs were uncovered, which wasn't lost on Darrel.

"You look beautiful tonight, Carol."

"Thanks Darrel," she said as she smiled at him. Before they had gone very far she was wondering if this wasn't all a terrible mistake. The wise thing to do, she told herself, would be to have Darrel take her home immediately. But she didn't tell him to do that. She knew that he and Brad would be very disappointed if she didn't at least go the party. She also knew, that she was very curious about what happened at parties like the one to which they were driving. It didn't take long for them to turn onto I-71. She couldn't count the number of times that she and Brad had driven to Columbus over the years. During their college years it was back and forth almost monthly. After they graduated, a couple of times a year they would attend a football game. With the birth of each child the frequency of their trips northeast diminished. She realized that it had been more than two years since she had been back to the city, almost exactly in the center of the state, where their alma mater was located. 

"About tonight," Darrel said, "I know this wasn't something you were crazy about doing, but I want to thank you for going with me. I've never been to one of these parties either so I can't tell you very much about what goes on."

"Brad told me that your friend, I think he said his name is William, said everybody has dinner and then after dinner the women have to wear lingerie, something like that or nothing at all."

"Yeah, that's what he told me. Are you okay with that?"

"I'm not sure. I guess we could leave after dinner if we're uncomfortable."

"Sure we can do that," he said as he glanced at her bare thighs.

Carol could actually feel his gaze. For years she realized that she knew when men were looking at her. Well, not exactly just looking, she thought, more like leering at her. If she walked up a flight of stairs and a man was behind her she could almost feel where his eyes were looking and most of the time it wasn't at her shoulders, her back, or her feet, but at her ass. Now Darrel tried his best not to be obvious but, even though she was looking straight ahead, she could feel his gaze on her thighs and then as it moved up to the juncture that was nearly revealed to him. Pulling at her hem wouldn't accomplish much, she knew, and wouldn't help for hardly anytime at all anyway, so she did nothing. Her hands were in her lap but that wasn't quite right either because there isn't any such thing as a lap, really, her hands were resting on her pussy. If they were not there, the skirt of her black cocktail dress would ride higher and higher until the cloth of her black teddy would come into Darrel's view.

"If we stay after dinner, I'm told it can get pretty rough."

That caught Carol's attention. "What do you mean by rough?" She asked with concern in her voice.

"Oh, sorry. That probably wasn't the best choice of words. I didn't mean violent or anything like that. It's not an S&M club. I just meant that there will be lots of action. You know . . . I mean sexual activity."

"Yeah, I know that. Brad told me." She was quiet for a moment. Because the radio wasn't on, the only sounds that could be heard were the droning of the engine and their own breathing. "Brad tells me everything and I guess he also tells you everything."

"We're pretty tight. I don't keep secrets from him and I don't think he keeps many secrets from me either. Does that bother you?" he asked.

"It embarrasses me. I know that you know that we've watched the video over and over, I mean the video with the pretty woman and all of those men. I think it must be German. Also, I know that you know that he wants me to do things like the woman does that I can't imagine myself doing. And, we're in a car that minute by minute is taking us closer to a wild party that he wants me to attend with you."

"Carol, I sure don't want you to be uncomfortable or embarrassed. I want you to be excited."

"Well, guess what, I'm uncomfortable, embarrassed a little frightened," she turned towards him, took a deep breath, smiled and said, "and also very excited."

Chapter 6, Growing

Brad tried as best he could to relax. Yet he found the time just inching by. It seemed like it had been hours since he saw the red Corvette back out of his drive but he saw that it had been less than one hour. This is going to be a very, very long night he thought. He wished that Tim was home so they could do something together, but he hardly ever was anymore. If it wasn't a game, it was a party at someone's house, or a date. Usually when he came home his parents were fast asleep. Tonight would be no different. Well, maybe it would be a little different because when he did come home, his father certainly wouldn't be fast asleep because he was too nervous and excited, nor would his mother be fast asleep because she wouldn't be home, she would be at a party a hundred miles away near the university that Tim hoped to attend on a football scholarship.

Because Darrel had driven much faster than the speed limit, they were approaching the outskirts of Columbus much more quickly than for any of Carol's previous trips. "Hey honey," Darrel said with a familiarity that was unsettling to her, "reach in the glove box and hand me the slip of paper on top. It has the directions to the party. I think we're about fifteen minutes away which should be perfect. If we're there by eight fifteen we won't be the first or the last to arrive."

Carol had relaxed somewhat during the past half hour. Her folded hands had left her lap. Her right hand was behind her head and her left hand was resting on her warm thigh. Sure enough, the hem of the dress had ridden further up until the juncture of her slightly parted thighs, barely covered by the flimsy garment, was revealed to the eyes of a man, other than her husband's, for the first time. Darrel thought it was the most beautiful thing, next to her perfect face, that he had ever seen in his life and that included what he had seen in videos.

As the red sports car got closer to its destination, its occupants became more nervous and excited. A hundred miles to the southwest, Carol's husband also grew more restless. He knew that soon, his beautiful wife would be in a strange apartment surrounded by strangers. This wouldn't be the first time for her to be in an unfamiliar apartment, surrounded by strangers, because over the years she had attended many work-related parties with him. However, this would be the first time that the party goers were getting together for the sole purpose of having sex with someone other than their date, or spouse. This was something that Brad had thought about for several years and had been discussing with Carol, without any success until recently, for more than a year. In his fantasy, he was always there. It was always his hand intertwined with hers. He was the one who would kiss her and make her hot like he did in the privacy of their bedroom but in his fantasy in front of others. It was his hot breath in her ear and his soft voice urging her to do something wicked that was against her upbringing. His finger would caress her swollen breasts and gently touch her legs and the spot between them that always got wet in anticipation of his entry. It was always him who helped her take off her clothes and he who urged her to let herself go and have fun. But tonight he wouldn't be there with her. Now that something might be about to happen, the reality seemed to be different for him than what he had been dreaming.

Darrel followed the detailed directions and parked the car in the designated area. "Ready?" he asked.

"No. Honestly, I don't know if I ever will be," she said as she unbuckled her seatbelt, turned around, leaned over the seat to retrieve her coat and at the same time his.

The interior light was on in the car and Darrel had a view of the most perfect ass he had ever seen because her dress had ridden up nearly to her waist. Both cheeks were completely bare and at the top of her crack he saw that a black, gauzy-like piece of cloth plunged between the orbs. She was as bare as if she had been wearing a thong, not a teddy. As she turned around and handed him his coat he said, "thanks, thanks for the coat and even more thanks for the fantastic view."

"Oh you . . ." she said while blushing and smoothing down her dress. She did, however, appreciate his compliment. She knew he would look, and she had a pretty good idea of what he would see, so why, why did she do it? It was so unlike her and yet everything she had been doing for the past few months was so unlike the old Carol Taylor and it worried her.

In no time they were back inside the warmth of a building and lightly knocking on what Darrel hoped was the right door. It was opened by a very pretty black woman who identified herself as Alisha. She wore a colorful long gown with slits up both sides to her waist. If she was wearing anything under it the most it could have been would have been a dental floss thong because her brown legs were completely bared and flashed through the slits with each long stride. She collected their coats, quickly returned and asked them to join her in a small room off the entry. "Sit down, sit down, make yourselves comfortable. I want you to feel at home here. Now, because I know everyone who is here," she paused and laughed at her own remark, "you have to be William's friends, Carol and Darrel, right?"