CAUTION:

This is a story based on experience, and honestly told; some details and names are fictionalized to obscure identities of real persons and events. The ages of most of the persons told in the story were technically legal ages of consent in the state of Minnesota (for that matter in almost all states at the time). While the sexual activities described here involve "teenagers," these boys were not preyed upon by anyone, or coerced in anyway. If anything, these " boys" were predators to my wife.

Installment 4 - - - "You Wanna Fuck her?"

I did not know there had been so many outside. When they started to enter, I was shocked. One, two, then three more, and another and another. Seven I counted. All about the same age as the boys. All eager to see her. My wife was presented to them in her underpants and socks, bra dangling about her waist, her hands covering her breasts, obviously half-naked against her will; she looked like she might cry. She looked pathetically frightened. But that did not disturb them. They saw how Frenchy grinned and they grinned too.

Frenchy, nodded his head at my wife, and asked proudly: "You wanna fuck her?"

They generally and universally wanted to do that. And said so loudly and eagerly. Frenchy raised a hand to quiet them and said it was twenty bucks to fuck her. They protested. He was adamant. She could not bear to look at them while she was being bartered.

She said something quietly to Frenchy who kissed her mouth as she tried to protest. She turned her face in embarrassment to his shoulder and closed her eyes. He put his hand up to cover her face and caress her face kindly, saying soothing things to her quietly. He said something to her I could not hear but she nodded against his shoulder, eyes still closed, and at his suggestion, it seemed, she let her hands drop to her side so that once more they could see her naked tits—falling full and warm from her hands as she released them to view, randy tipped, her nipples erect, aroused for them.

The boys gaped at them in awe.

Frenchy asked: "Or she'll suck your cock?"

They looked incredulous. I was too. Karen looked anxiously at Frenchy, would have protested, did not, but fidgeted.

Then Frenchy added cheerfully to close the sale, this lurid advertisement: "You can cum in her mouth."

She never had done this or me. Why did he say this? I knew why. But again I—the boys too—looked at her incredulously. Karen blushed like a little girl, obviously uncomfortable, her eyes darted. She was very unhappy. Still she did not say anything and she did not resist. She let Frenchy embrace her, looking down at her discomfort with sadistic pleasure.

None of these boys was going to refuse an offer like this. But again he asked for more money than any of them had.

Some of the boys had observed me standing at the edge of the room. They easily figured out who I was. It made some of them nervous. Others looked at me contemptuously.

Jon, standing next to some, explained who I was and by the way he looked at me and how they joined that look they saw that had a hard-on like the rest of them.

He finally let them pool what money they had between them and offer that up. Frenchy reluctantly accepted. She'd suck off one of them, Frenchy announced.

Jon turned on the lights in the living-room. We all realized that while this had been going it had been getting dark. It was after eight o'clock. The living room was lit by floor lamps. Two beside the sofa. One by the TV. And in the far corner, next to our aquarium, one of those pole-lights with three spots. Jon turned one of them toward where Karen and Frenchy stood.

Frenchy got the idea. He took Karen by the shoulders and moved her forcibly to the wall and the front door, turning her toward them as the boys naturally shifted with her and came to stand before her about ten feet away in a rough line, like a firing squad. He laughed and positioned her to face them squarely. She threw her hands up to cup her breasts. He laughed and said:"Stop it. Show 'em your tits."

He drew her hands down to her sides again. Again, to avoid looking into their eyes, she looked sideways to the floor.

He stepped behind her and fiddled with the back of her bra and it went slack and fell to the floor in front of her. Then, he stepped back, admired her, and walked around her looking at her from all sides. He winked at me and went to stand behind the boys.

Being behind them all, I could see her face. She had opened her eyes. She looked so very unhappy.

Frenchy said: "Okay, guys, you can look but you can't touch."

Then went to the pole light and turned up the other all the spots

He grined at her. "We wanna see everything, Mom."

He said it matter-of-factly, as he stood by the lights. He swiveled all the spots to shine onto my naked wife.

I saw her reaction. Or rather the lack of reaction. She looked like she was simply in a stupor. Yet she also seemed intensely self-aware. She herself would later admit to me that she could recall every detail of this night vividly. She had never felt herself more keenly sexually alive.

He joined the crowd facing her, her eyes following him. He gestured. "Push down your underpants ."

Hesitating, her fingers felt along at the waistband of her underpants; she glanced at me; I looked at Frenchy; he winked at me; she saw that.

She looked away from the the stares of the boys, whose eyes went to her her underpants and hands, and leaning slighltly, she pushed her underpants off her hips and exposed herself to them.

She let her underpants cling about her thighs, like she expected this was all that was wanted. They just wanted to look. After a minute she would pull up her underpants and they would go, or so she thought.

So tucking her hands behind herself, she faced the boys naked, for this moment of humiliation, while the boys gawked in amazement and lust; she faced them naked submissively, abashed, while she looked down at the floor, self-concious, aware of their stares and the lewd appreciative and deprecating comments.

"She's fat."

"Nice tits"

"You can see her cunt."

"How old is she?"

"Why she doing this?"

"I wanna fuck her."

"She oughta fuck us all."

This was the fantasy I had thought of so often, but never never had I imagined it to be like this, so clearly, so completely, and something even as it happened I had not really expected. My wife undressed for a group of guys. My wife completely naked in front of a crowd of men, better yet a gang of eager teenagerss.

One whom I took be the natural leader of the group, who had done most of the talking, and was gathering the money, must be a friend of Frenchy's; he called him by his nickname, Slider, but I had never seen him before, or any of them.

So I should not have been surprised when he said, nodding toward my naked wife, as he handed Jon the collected money, several bills and some change: "Who is she, Frenchy?"

My wife looked distressed. Frenchy laughed. "It's my Mom."

Slider did not believe it. None of the boys did.

"Really," Frenchy explained, as they expressed doubts, giving the money over uncounted to Jon, who went off to stash it somewhere.

He beamed at her proudly: "She's my Group Home Mom." They all looked on at her in amazement and she blushing felt their stares shamefully.

Then Frenchy nodded toward me. "And that's her husband standing over there." Everybody turned or looked over their shoulders to see me now. Even more astonished by this, than having this naked woman in front of them. They looked back at my naked wife. Then back at me. Then back at my naked wife again.

"No shit," Slider said. "What the fuck?"

"Yeah," Frenchy said. Slider was speechless. Frenchy shrugged.

Slider was skeptical. "She's really gonna suck my cock?"

"Sure," Frenchy said, grinning, "and you can cum her mouth." Karen seemed about to cry again.

Slider looked at me, they all did. "In front of him?" he asked

Jon was back. He added his opinion: "He wants to see you do it." Frenchy laughed.

"Shit," said Slider.

Frenchy went to Karen and lifted her face to look at his. "You ready, Mom?" She said nothing.

"Take off those underpants."

We watched now as she in submissive perplexity did as she was told. Pushing her underpants to her feet, bent over, her tits bobbling a little. She blushed now truly. She stepped out of her underpants and uncertainly held them. Jon came over and took them from her.

Frenchy approached her. Put his hands on both her her breasts and kissed her. She closed her eyes.

Frenchy put his arms around her and pulled her against himself and kissed her warmly, giving her his tongue. His hands went to her buttock, cupping them and feeling them as he kissed her, slipping his fingers into her cunt, and showing me that she was ready to fuck him. She obviously and warmly kissed him back. Her eyes closed.

The boy's eyes shot back and forth between watching this and looking at my reaction. I tried to show no emotion. But I am sure I blushed as much as my wife did. We were both sheepish and stunned. And both the sexual prey of these boys.

Frenchy looked over at me as he stopped kissing my naked wife, she looking up at his expectantly at his face, said something so softly that I could not hear it, and he shook his head in reply, then said out loud: "No, no, you gotta do it right here . . . . in front of us. . . so we can see you do it. We all want to see you do it." He winked at me.

He stepped back as he pushed on her shoulders. "Get down on your knees now, Mom. . . ."

She did not resist, but she was reluctant until he insisted; he held her hands as she did, telling her she should do what he said or he'd go ahead and let all of them fuck her anyway.

She said plaintively: "Frenchy . . . ." and then whatever else it was I could not hear and Frenchy did not care what it was, he just smiled at her as she settled on her knees. Frenchy let go her hands, telling her to put them behind her back,; she did what she was told.

He nodded to Jon who was beside me and went to stand behind her. Jon grabbed her hands, crouching behind her and held them tightly, because they all assumed she would resist, but I knew she would not. Frenchy, grinned at her submission; he winked at me and then looked at his astonished friend and said: "Okay, slider . . . . She's all yours."

The boys stepped closer and Slider had no shame or hesitation in taking his prick out of her pants. He dropped his jeans and undershorts to his knees as he stood a few feet from her face and put his right hand on the top of her head as she looked up at the knob of his prick held out for her mouth, his hand holding the shaft of it poised, positioned.

It was a bigger prick than mine. The glans of it would fill her mouth like a ripe plum. She looked at it a moment before Slider said: "Suck it, or fuck it."

She looked up at Frenchy who grinning, nodded, and Slider simply pulled her head forward unwillingly to take it into her open mouth. She made muffled and defeated plaintive sound, and closed her eyes, as Slider using both hands now held her head and said again: "Suck. Yeah, suck . . . like that."

Karen was uncertain what he wanted. When I had forced her to suck me, she had always been passive. Now Slider wanted her to actually "suck." I could hear her do it.

Jon let go of her hands and reached around from behind her to fondle her tits, fiddling with her rubbery nipples, and then without asking or saying what he would do he stood and pulled down his undershorts, his short springy dick jerking to view, and he squatted behind her and wanted to fuck her right then and there but Frenchy shook his head at him and so he contented himself to press himself against her naked. She felt his erection against her back, his hands came around in front of her to grope her tits, and one dropped to finger her cunt.

Meanwhile, Slider had begun to earnestly fuck my wife in the face and she put her hands up and pushed against him, gagging at what was too much dick for her throat. Frenchy said: "Be easy, Slider. You can't fuck her mouth. She don't know how to do that."

Slider withdrew and stroked his slippery wet prick, wet with her mouth, and she looked at Frenchy to beseech him but he laughed and reassured her: "You just suck it, Mom. Use more of your tongue . . . feel it and suck like you was sucking on a popsicle, okay . . . Yeah, suck it like that. . . . And when he comes?"

He touched her shoulder to get her attention. She looked up at him. "When he cums?"

She looked earnest. "He's gonna cum in your mouth, Mom."

The boys tittered. She blushed.

Frenchy paused for effect. He grinned: "You swallow it."

The boys laughed coarsely and I felt ashamed. Karen looked ashamed.

My wife had never done that, I was sure. She had never had mouthful of cum. She had never really tasted the stuff, even if she had maybe kissed my cock head once or twice. She looked anxious. I felt the boys looking at me with mixed contempt and shared shame, but they wanted this. They wanted her humiliation and they wanted to see my reaction.

"You do that, Mom?" Frenchy reassuringly patted her head.

Karen looking up at him, doe-eyed, nodded tentatively.

Frenchy instructed Slider like a father: "Now you be nice to Mom."

Slider said: "Shit . . . ." And took hold of head and guided her mouth to his prick and gently rocked, lightly moving his dick about her mouth, while Karen, eyes closed let him use her mouth, let him move her head around on his penis.

Jon was frustrated. Karen kept moving his hands off her and he wanted to fuck her. Frenchy shook his head at him and said: "You got her all night, Man. Let her do this." Jon got up and put his underpants back on while Slider finally finished.

Gripping her head tightly, Slider exclaimed: "O yeah. . . " and shot off in my wife's mouth.

Karen had not expected it. She had not anticipated. She started, eyes suddenly wide and darting up at him; she put her hands up to his body to push him off, and complained, but he held her mouth on his jetting prick, and she mewled and whimpered but swallowed involuntarily and completely what was spent into her mouth. I heard her swallow and suck. Like she was getting a big mouthful. Many mouthfuls. Like the sound of slurping soup. She let a gasp out and some drooled from her mouth, dripped on her tits, but she quickly kept sucking as Frenchy encouraged her to do.

Slider laughed and said again: "Jesus . . . Shit . . . ." He stroked her hair. He repeated: "Jesus . . . . " Karen sucked slowly and deliberately now, moving her head on it like she was kissing, as his prick softened and when he withdrew it looked sucked on. It really did. Like she's deflated it. I was amazed. She looked at as it dangled half-hard in front of her face. Then she looked up, looked up to see all the boys grinning at her, looking lecherously at her wet and swollen mouth, and she just burst into tears. I was surprised. Slider said again: "Jesus . . . ." Frenchy said she'd be okay. It's just that she never done that before.

Slider said: "I thought you said?"

Frenchy said: "No man, she's just this guy's wife . . . just a fucking housewife is all . . . She never done this . . . "

"Shit," said Slider. The boys looked almost sorry for her.

Jon, however, did not feel sorry for her. Karen leaned over and wept into her hands. Frenchy said: "You guys go now. I'll call you later, Slider. It's okay."

"Jesus," Slider said again and the group all left while my wife crouched on the floor and cried like a child.

Frenchy laughed when he shut the door and said to Jon: "Good thing she started bawling . . . I don't know how we could've got them to go. I think they would have stayed and fucked her all night . . . "

He stood over Karen, looking down at her, who hearing this, had quieted and softly sobbing, listened as he told Jon: "And I want her for myself." Jon looked disappointed. "And you too. For us, Man." He paused and Karen had composed herself but was still crouched, her hands on her face, sniffling, and he said to her: "You got that Mom. You gonna fuck us and suck us all night long."