My Greatest Fantasy
(Copyrighted 2006 by the author)
The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent.
Which I am saddened to say can no longer be obtained! (Effective August 14th 2007)
I've heard that a lot of guys get off on seeing their wives fucked by another man.
What sick fucks! Who would ever want to see another guy's cock in the snatch of your own special woman, whom you love and adore, whom you courted and married to keep her all to yourself for the rest of your life? Who could ever want those sweet lips, which you kiss in passion to be wrapped around the slimy dick of some other man? Who wouldn't recoil at the thought of alien semen squirting down her throat or up her beautiful vagina? What kind of sick fuck could contemplate such an event and not go running in a tear for the bathroom to collapse over the toilet in a series of dry heaves and hot sweats?
I was that kind of sick fuck, and it sickened me to realize it. Every time Priscilla and I were in bed making love, I kept thinking, I wish that every man in the world could see how beautiful this woman is, and what a perfect pussy she has. How they would envy me for what I possessed. I imagined how proud I would feel watching another man feeding his hot cock into her steaming pussy. I actually wanted to figure out some way to get my wife fucked by someone other than myself. I made myself sick.
We had been married for ten years now, but it was still wonderful. We both worked all day, I as an advertising executive, and Priscilla as one of the top market researchers on Wall Street. Of course she made twice as much money as I did, but what did that matter?
Every night we'd come home, tired, but happy to see each other. We would go out to one of the small restaurants in the neighborhood, and have a nice dinner and a bottle of fine wine, and I would look around at the other tables, and take note of all the other couples, and often I would notice that the man was much more attractive than the lady, and I would think to myself, "what wouldn't he give to be in bed, fucking my beautiful wife," and I would get so aroused that I often had to squeeze the napkin on my lap in my excitement.
It was wrong. It was perverted. It was un-American. But I couldn't help myself. My greatest fantasy was to see my beautiful wife get plowed by another man. To watch her suck his cock. To see another man's cock plowing her still-tight pussy or her virgin asshole, which I didn't dare to invade. But another man could dare what I couldn't dare.
And try as I might to stifle it, the sickness grew and grew within me, and I had to admit to myself that my greatest fantasy was to see my wife get fucked every which way by another man.
It got so bad that every time we got into bed and prepared to have sex, I had to imagine that I was some other man (other than myself) that was going to fuck my wife, in order for me to get an erection. She never knew she was not fucking her husband all these nights, but a myriad of dark and swarthy strangers which I had conjured myself to be.
I could imagine myself sitting in an armchair at the foot of our bed, while some monstrous brute defiled her. He would be lying on top of her, and his powerful buttocks would be clenching and hunching as he stroked his massive cock in and out of her wet cunt. I have always felt that the male buttocks were the real engine driving a good fuck, and I liked to imagine Priscilla getting a really good fuck.
I know that I am not the world's greatest stud, and I have always felt that I might have been a better fucker if only I could have watched my own strong lean buttcheeks hunching and dimpling as I plowed my cock into my wife's pussy. But that was impossible. How can you watch your own ass, when you're fucking someone else?
I jokingly suggested to Priscilla that maybe we should get into swinging. At least maybe try a threeway.
"With whom?" she asked suspiciously.
"Some other woman," I said evasively. I didn't want her to know what I really had in mind. She would expect me to want another woman. Any normal man would want another woman. I was not normal.
"No way!" She said emphatically.
"Well, maybe another guy?" I ventured timidly. I mean after all, that would be good for her, wouldn't it?
"Absolutely not," she said.
"But why not? You would love it. Imagine having two cocks at once. One in your mouth and one in your pussy. Just think about it."
"My mother didn't bring me up to be that kind of girl," she said. And that was the end of that. It was too bad she was so middle class and bourgeois, and wouldn't allow herself the pleasures of new partners and sexual exploration. I knew if she got into it she would love it. She would want to do it all the time. But how to get her started? I was afraid to even bring up the subject again.
Even though I couldn't bring up the subject with her, the fantasy haunted me. It was all I could think about. I started hanging around chat rooms on the Internet. People were really doing all kind of crazy unimaginable things. I wondered if it was for real, or if it was just their own fantasies that they were projecting. But it was making me very horny. I was spending hours every night with my computer instead of being in bed fucking my wife, where I should have been.
Late one night, she got out of bed and came to the door of the little room where I had my computer desk. "What are you doing?" she asked.
"Just reading the morning papers," I said.
She gave me a funny look. "Well, come to bed. It's late."
"Okay. In a minute." I shut down my computer. I had a pretty good hard-on from thinking about some of the things that had just been related in the chat room, so I went into the bedroom and practically raped my wife. I pretended to myself that I was Alan, the college boy in the chat room, who was describing how he had fucked every pledge in Alpha Theta Chi, the sorority next to his fraternity house.
"Oh, baby. Give me that sweet pussy," I said. "I'm so hard for you."
She was surprised. I had never been so aggressive. "What got into you?" She asked me.
"Let's fuck," I said, and began kissing her breasts, which was turning her on. Then I went down and began some serious work on her clitoris until she was screaming either for mercy or for cock. I gave her the cock. As it sank into her wet hole, I imagined I could see the two of us, as if from an armchair at the foot of the bed, only I was not me, I was Alan, who was very muscular and handsome, even though I didn't really know what he looked like.
Up to this time, I had been merely a lurker in the chat room, which was called the 'Forbidden Desire' room. I had been staying quiet on the side and not typing anything in, until one night some guy named Rocco Cocco 473 showed up in the room, trolling for some instant action.
"Any hot pussy in the Bayville, New Jersey area tonight? Big cock here needs to fuck wet tight pussy. Instant message me for a private chat 'Rocco Cocco 473'
I don't know what made me do it, but I messaged him, and we were on a private connection.
Tibi: Hi. (I was Tibi. Like TB----Theodore Bernard, my first and middle name.)
Rocco Cocco 473: Hi there, Tibs, baby. What's up? Tell me all about yourself. Are you wet?
He thought I was a woman. I wondered if I should go along with the deception. It was tempting. He was getting me hot. But then he would want me to send a picture or turn on my webcam, and what would I do then?
Tibi: Tell me about you, Rocco. Do you have a big cock?
Rocco Cocco 473: You better believe it, baby. How does nine and a half inches sound to you? And fat.
Tibi: It sounds wonderful. I wish I could see it.
Rocco Cocco 473: I wish I could see you. Do you have big tits? What size are they?
Tibi: Well, they're not very big. ( to put it mildly)
Rocco Cocco 473: You got a webcam baby? We can look at each other.
I had a webcam, but it was disconnected. And there was no way I could look at Rocco Cocco 473's cock without exposing my gender.
Tibi: I do. But it's broken. I'm saving up for a new one.
Rocco Cocco 473: Damn. I sure would like to see you. You live in Bayville?
Tibi: Yes. I do.
Rocco Cocco 473: Great. I sure wish I could see you. What are you wearing?
Tibi: Just my slip.
Rocco Cocco 473: And nothing else?
Tibi: Just my slip.
Rocco Cocco 473: Great. Are you fingering yourself?
Rocco Cocco 473: Are you wet?
Tibi: Yes. Are you hard?
Rocco Cocco 473: You bet. You want I should drive over? Tell me where you live.
Tibi: I can't tonight. Did you want to jerk off?
Rocco Cocco 473: Yeah. Maybe. You got a picture you can send me?
I thought to myself. I had some pictures of Priscilla I had taken on the beach in the Virgin Islands recently. I had bought a new digital camera, and they were all in my computer. I could send him a picture of Priscilla.
Tibi: Okay. What's your e-mail address?
Rocco Cocco 473: firstname.lastname@example.org
I wrote it down.
Tibi: Hold on. I'll send it now.
Rocco Cocco 473: Great, baby.
Tibi: Just one sec.
I minimized the instant message and went to my e-mail account and typed a little love note to roccocco473. "I wish you were here with me right now, fucking my hot pussy with your big thick cock. I would also like to suck on your big thick cock, and then have you put it back in my pussy. How does that sound??????
Then I clicked into 'My Pictures' on my computer and found a particularly stimulating photo of Priscilla stretched out on a lounge chair in her bathing suit next to the pool with a Tom Collins in her hand. She was gorgeous. He would die when he saw this. I attached it to my e-mail and clicked 'send'. Then I closed my e-mail and brought Rocco back up.
Tibi: I sent it. Did you get it?
Rocco Cocco 473: Let me check.
Rocco Cocco 473: Yeah. I got it. I'm printing it out. Hot damn. You are one hot looking lady. I wish I could come over right now. Please?
Tibi: No. Not tonight. I can't. Some other night. I have to go to bed. Did you want to jerk off first?
Rocco Cocco 473: Yeah. I printed out your picture, and I'm looking at it, and I'm pulling on my big hard dick, which is all hot and hard for you baby. Tell me how much you like it while I'm fucking you.
Tibi: Yes. Oh. It's so big. And so thick. And I can feel it parting my lips now and sliding all the way, far into my hot wet cunt, which is so wet because I've been fingering it while thinking about you fucking me. And now I can feel your hot cock inside me and it feels so wonderful. So wonderful. Fuck me. Fuck me.
Rocco Cocco 473: I'm fucking you now with my big thick cock. Do you like anal, baby? Did you want me to put it up your asshole?
Tibi: Oh, yes, Rocco. Fuck me up my asshole. Put it in my asshole right now. AAARRRRGGGHHH. Ow. It hurts a little. But it also feels good. I like it. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck my hot ass.
Rocco Cocco 473: Keep talking. Keep talking. I'm almost ready. Keep talking.
Tibi: I love your big cock inside my tight hot asshole. I want you to shoot your cum inside of me. Now. Right now. I want to feel you come. Tell me when you're shooting.
Rocco Cocco 473: Oh, Christ, baby. I just did it. I shot all over everything, coming in your sweet little asshole.
Tibi: That was so wonderful. I can feel your cum burning inside of me. I want to keep it inside me forever.
Rocco Cocco 473: So when can we get together for real, baby? Don't you want to really feel it inside you?
Tibi: I do. I do. I want it so much. But I don't know when we can get together. I'm a little busy right now.
Rocco Cocco 473: At least give me your e-mail. We can write each other little love notes and make plans to meet.
I knew it was probably imprudent, but I had really gotten off on pretending I was Priscilla. Was I a sicko or what? I gave him my e-mail address.
Rocco Cocco 473: Great. I'll write to you. I'm not gonna let you get away from me. That's for sure. I can't wait to plant my cock in those sweet hot holes of yours. For real.
Tibi: Me too. Got to go now. Love you.
Rocco Cocco 473: And I love you, baby. Night Night.
I closed the instant message and shut off the computer. I went down the hall to my bedroom and gave Priscilla the best fuck I had ever given her in our entire marriage. Of course, I imagined that I was watching Rocco Cocco 473 fucking her and not me, and I didn't know what he looked like, but I conjured up an exciting image. It was great. But it would get even better. I would have to figure out a way to get Rocco Cocco 473 into our bed, while I sat in the armchair at the foot of the bed, and jerked off, as he fucked my beautiful wife.
The next morning, we got up and had a quick breakfast, and Priscilla left for her office. I was about to leave for mine, but I had a little suspicion. I went to look at my e-mail to see if there was anything there. And there was. There was the usual---Cheap Viagra. Grow an inch on your penis. There is money waiting for you in Nigeria, but first you have to send a check to...etc. etc. And then there was the one I was looking for. My heart was pounding. Subject:: Fucking your hot holes, baby. From: roccococco473 To: Tibi. I clicked on it.
"Hey baby. It's me. I told you I wasn't gonna let you get away from me. I want that hot body of yours. But for real next time. I want to fuck you so bad. When can we get together? Waiting to hear from you. My cock is hard again just thinking about that luscious body of yours. Rocco.
I clicked 'Reply' and wrote: "I want your big thick cock just as much as you want my pussy and my asshole. I will try to figure something out. I will get back to you. XOXOXOXO Tibi.
Then I went to the office.
The next several weeks were terrible for me. We had a constant correspondence going. We didn't connect on instant message again. I was afraid. I was so caught up in this strange affair that I was afraid I might slip and give him my address. And then what would I tell my wife, whom he would think he was coming to fuck???? A puzzlement. N'est-ce pas?
And the letters we exchanged were sizzling. Full of longing and undying passion. He kept asking me for my address. He really wanted to meet me and fuck me for real. Why wouldn't I give him my address?
I was doing sloppy work in the office and I almost lost a big account with a stupid ad campaign. But my mind was elsewhere. It was sitting in the armchair at the foot of the bed watching roccococco473 plunge his large penis into my wife. I wanted so badly to know what he looked like. Wasn't there some way?
Finally I admitted to him that I had been putting him off because I was married, and what would my husband think if he ever found out I was having a Cyberaffair with Rocco?
"Okay," he wrote back. "Now, I understand. You have an old man. That's okay. I have an old lady, but she's no good for the next six months. She's preggo and the doctor says she can't fuck. But she's a pig, anyway. I wouldn't mind getting rid of her. She sure don't look like you. Love. Rocco.
"Oh, Rocco," I answered in my reply. "If only there were some way." I was going to keep this going as long as possible.
Then one day he sent me an e-mail. "I have to meet you. We'll work it out. I work in a bar downtown. I'm a bartender. Maybe you could stop into the bar some day around four o:clock in the afternoon when it's nice and quiet????? Waiting to fuck you, Your loving Rocco.
"What bar?" I asked in my reply. Maybe I could just go in for a drink and see what he looked like. Then I would really have a picture of who was fucking my wife when I was fucking her. Not that I was fucking her much anymore. My thoughts were completely full of my bogus romance with Rocco, with me as Priscilla. Sick. Sick. Sick.
I didn't hear from him for a couple of days. I think he was as afraid to give me his address as I had been to give him mine.
Then the letter came. From: roccococco473 To: Tibi Subject: When?
The body of the message was as follows: "I bartend at Corcoran's Bar and Grill, 792 State Street. Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays from 3 to Midnight. Come in around 4. When can you come? Love, Your hot and horny Rocco.
Reply: Don't know. I'll get back to you. XOXOXOXO Tibi
I had it. I had his address. I could go in there and see what he looked like and he would never know. I was jubilant.
But would I even dare to speak to him? To tell him that I had been leading him on, that the woman in the picture was my wife, and I might be interested in letting him fuck her if I could arrange it. I didn't know what to do. But just in case, I put a picture of Priscilla (in her bathing suit) in my wallet. He might punch me in the nose if he ever realized he had been sending sex letters to another man. It was a tricky situation. Maybe I would just go in and have a drink, and he would not even imagine that I was Tibi.
It was Wednesday afternoon and I left work a little early. I told them I thought I had a fever, and I think I really did, but just from anxiety. My forehead was clammy and my hands were sweating, and I was trembling a little.
I drove to State Street and parked in the State Street Garage about one half block away from Corcoran's Bar and Grill. The parking meters were only good for one half hour, and I couldn't keep worrying about parking meters. I had other things on my mind.
As I walked up the street toward Corcoran's, I admired the shiny new motorcycle chained to the parking meter right in front of the door. I had never been on a motorcycle, but had always wanted to try it. It looked exciting. To be tearing down the highway, with cars and trucks on every side and the wind beating at your face. I was thinking that the wind would be blowing through my hair, but I realized that you had to wear a helmet. I opened the front door and immediately smelled beer.
The bar was empty. It was early. I was the only customer. The man behind the bar was a powerful looking dark complexioned man of about thirty with black curly hair and eyes that were almost black. He looked as if he hadn't shaved in several days. He was wearing a tee shirt that said "Hell for Leather," and as a matter of fact, he was wearing leather pants with straps that went over his shoulders. His biceps bulged beneath short sleeves of his shirt, and there was a tattoo on each arm. His left arm said "Mother," and his right arm said "Judy." He was very sexy looking. I knew that this had to be Rocco Cocco 473. I took a seat at the bar and he looked at me, waiting for me to speak.
"A rye and ginger," I said.
"Sure thing," he said, and began filling a glass with ice. "I haven't seen you here before," he said.
"No. I was driving by and felt like a little pick-me-up. But don't let me drink too much, because I'm driving," I said kiddingly. I thought maybe we could strike up a conversation.
"Okay. I'll watch you," he promised me. "Two drink limit, and I'll go light on the rye."
"Sounds good to me," I said. "Is that your bike out front?" I asked. I was sure it was.
"Sure is," he said proudly. "Brand new Harley. Cost me my next three years pay, but it's a beauty."
"It sure is," I said. "How long have you been riding motorcycles?"
"Seems like my whole life. My father was a motorcycle freak. So was my mom. So I guess I come by it natural like. In fact, I'm the president of the local chapter of The Highway Saints."
He seemed very proud of that. I had always heard that they were a bunch of rough, foul-mouthed hoodlums, as were their women. No wonder he wanted to fuck Tibi. She had class.
"I've never been on a bike," I told him. "I wonder what it would feel like."
"Fuck. If I didn't have to work here till midnight, I'd take you for a little spin down the highway."
"You would? I would really like that. Maybe we could do it some other time. Maybe I could try to get back around midnight some day???"
"Sure. I'd be glad to do it. I even got an extra helmet." He looked up at the clock and swore. "Fuck. Four fifteen. I gotta put another quarter in the meter. Hey, would you be a good guy and put a quarter in for me, so I don't have to leave the bar?"
"Sure, why not?" I said. He put a quarter into my hand, and I went out and fed the parking meter. I came back and sat back down on my stool at the bar, and began to sip my very weak rye and ginger. There was a lot more ginger than there was rye, and there was a lot more ice than there was ginger. Maybe I would be able to drink more than two and still not be guilty of a DUI.
"Thanks," he said. "You're a pal. And come in late some time. I will give you that cycle ride."
"I will," I said, and I really meant it.
"My name's Rocco," he said and stuck out his hand, which was twice the size of mine. We shook.
"Ted," I answered.
"Well, nice to know you, Ted. You live around here?"
"Over on the other side of town," I answered. "I work near here."
"Great. I live pretty near here. I got myself a sweet little trailer down in the park at the town line."
"Nice," I said.
"Yeah. Except it's a little small for two, and now there's gonna be three."
"Oh. Your wife is expecting?"
"Yeah. But not for another few months."
"Is her name Judy?" I asked.
"Dang! How the hell did you know that?" he asked me. He was clearly amazed at my perspicacity.
"The tattoo on your right arm says 'Judy'." I smiled.
He laughed. "You're a real smart guy all right," he told me. "Yeah. I got these tattoos in jail." I was waiting for him to tell me what he had been in for, but he didn't. "Bet you got a real house, not just a trailer," he said to me.
"Yes. We have a small house."
"Nice," he said. "You married too?"
"Yes," I answered.
"And what's your wife's name?"
"Priscilla," I told him.
"Nice," he said.
Then he pulled out his wallet with difficulty. His leather pants were so tight, he could barely get his fingers into the pocket. He showed me a collection of photos. An elderly couple (his mom and dad) and then he showed me the picture of Judy. "This here is Judy," he said. She was a really trashy looking, skinny girl with bad teeth and straight greasy-looking yellow hair. "Nice," I said.
No wonder he wanted to fuck my wife. I wouldn't have gone near Judy with a ten- foot pole. I looked more closely at the picture and saw that she also was tattooed. On the left side of her neck she had a small tattoo of a man's full genitalia. A thick stiff dick, and two large hanging balls."
"I see Judy has a tattoo also," I said to him.
He roared. "Yeah. I made her get it. That's me, there. Except of course, mine's much bigger than the tattoo," he grabbed at his crotch playfully and roared with laughter.
I wanted to ask him how much bigger, but I didn't have the nerve. I took another sip of my watery drink. The ice was melting, and I could taste little else but water.
"You got a picture of Priscilla?" he asked me.
I froze in mid sip. What should I do? Say No? Show him the picture? I decided to take a chance and see what would happen. I reached into my pocket and took out the snapshot. I laid it on the bar. He picked it up and looked at me. His eyes narrowed in anger.
"Hey, what is this?" he asked me.
"What do you mean?" I asked, playing dumb.
"Don't play dumb with me," he said. "I seen this lady before. We been writing each other on the Net. So what is it? You saw my letters?"
"Yes," I said.
"And she's your wife?"
"Yes," I said.
"So what are you gonna do about it? Did you come down here for a fist fight?"
What a laugh! He was twice my size.
"No. I came down here because I wanted to meet you. You sound like an okay guy."
"I do?" He didn't know if I was putting him on or not.
"Yes. Very okay." I nodded in appreciation. He was one sexy brute of a man.
"So you're okay with it or what?" He asked me.
"I would kill to watch you fuck my wife."
"Wow," he said.
"My greatest fantasy is to see my wife get fucked by another guy. Especially a big strong forceful guy like you."
"Wow," he said again. "So when can we set it up?"
"There's one little problem," I told him. This was going to be the hard part.
"I don't know if she'd agree."
"Agree to what?" he asked. He clearly didn't understand. "Agree to let you watch us fucking."
"Or even agree to let you fuck her."
"She wants to fuck me. I have all her e-mail printed out. I jerk off to her letters every day."
"The only thing is--" Here I paused. How was I to phrase this? "The only thing is (and now I pressed on) she doesn't know anything about you. She didn't write those letters. I did. I'm Tibi."
"Wow," he said again. "So did you want me to fuck you or what?"
"No. No. No," I protested. "I want you to fuck my wife. I just don't know how to make it happen."
"Hah!" he said. "You know this happened to us in Florida last year. This rich old guy paid me and the guys to gangfuck his wife, while he knelt at the foot of the bed and jerked off."
"Yeah. Me and my buddies. My bike buddies. We were down in Florida for a bikers convention."
Gangfuck. This was an idea that hadn't even occurred to me. I felt myself getting stiff sitting at the bar. Just thinking about it. Gangfuck. My god. I had never even thought of that. But to watch Priscilla get fucked not by just one guy, but by a whole gang. "Wow," I thought.
"God! I would love to see my wife get gangfucked by you and your biker buddies. She could have one cock in her cunt and one cock in her ass, while she was sucking another one." Suddenly a new thought arose. "How many buddies are we talking about?" I asked him.
"So that's six guys all together?"
"Wow! And do they all have big cocks?"
"You bet. Some of them even bigger than mine. One of my buddies, this little skinny guy, 'Finky'---he's got more than eleven inches. A lot of women can't even take him."
"Wow!" I said. "I would so love to have this happen, but Priscilla would never agree. I approached her with the idea of a threesome and she put a cold damper on that idea right away."
"You could drug her. That's what we did to the Florida lady. Just put a little something in her drink and she went out like a light. When she came to she had three cocks in her, and there was nothing she could do about it. It was too late."
"But that's rape."
"Maybe. But she loved it. I still hear from the old man. He writes me that she makes him drive downtown two or three nights a week and pick up two or three guys or more to fuck her. She really loves it man, and if we hadn't got her started like that, think what she would have missed."
"Let me think about it," I said. "I'll e-mail you."
"So let me get one thing straight. All those fucking hot letters I got were from you, man?"
I lowered my head in shame. "Yes," I admitted.
"My god. You sure know how to get a guy off." He laughed and laughed and kept slapping his palm on the wooden surface of the bar. He thought it was funny that it was a man writing such erotic letters to him. He wasn't angry at all.
"Thank you," I said appreciating his praise for my literary efforts. "I'll get back to you."
"Sure. Okay, Tibi," he said. I finished my drink. And just as I was about to leave the bar he gave me another quarter to feed into his parking meter. I was glad to do it. He was such a terrific guy. I was so glad I had come here and met him. There had to be some way to work all this out. I just needed time to think.
I waited a week, trying to figure out what to do. I really wanted to know a little more about Rocco and also his buddies before I let them into my house. I also wanted to ride on his motorcycle. So the following Tuesday, I e-mailed him
Subect:: Gangfuck Priscilla.
Message: I'm coming down tomorrow night around midnight for further discussions on how to go about getting my wife gangbanged. I would also like you to take me for a ride on your Harley. Tibi (notice---I left out the XOXOXOXO this time.)
He e-mailed me back in a few hours and told me he'd be waiting for me, and that I was doing the right thing, Priscilla needed to get gangfucked, and he and his buddies were the best guys for the job.
"Where are you going?" Asked Priscilla the next evening as I was putting on my jacket and heading out the front door at eleven p.m.
"Just for a little drive," I said. "I'm not sleepy yet. I need to get a little fresh air."
She gave me this funny look, like she thought I was lying. It made me feel creepy because I was lying. I closed the front door behind me and went to my car. I drove down to Corcoran's. I was able to park right in front of it this time, right behind Rocco's motorcycle, and it was after six p.m. so I didn't have to put any quarters in the meter. It was ten minute before midnight. Rocco would be getting off in a few minutes. I went into Corcoran's and sat down on one of the empty bar stools. They were all empty. Corcoran's main business was at mealtimes. Their patrons drank their lunches and dinners. It catered to that kind of a crowd.
"You ready to go for your Cycle spin?" he asked me.
"Sure am," I said.
At midnight he locked the bar. We unchained his motorcycle from the parking meter and handed me a helmet. Now I noticed that the license plate read 'RC 473'. He had me climb on right behind him. Pressing really close against him, and I wrapped my arms around his powerful chest and hung on. We zoomed off. It was exhilarating. I was having the best time of my life. We zoomed all over town and then out onto Highway 49 where the trailer park was, and I thought he was going to take me to his trailer, but he turned around and we headed back into town. He stopped the cycle next to my car, and helped me off.
"That was a lot of fun," I exclaimed.
"Glad you liked it, man? When am I going to meet the little woman?"
"Soon. Soon," I said. I was making it up because there was no way I was going to be able to arrange this. I was just trying to live out my fantasy up to the point where it really began.
When I got home, Priscilla was asleep. When I was coming back from the bathroom after brushing my teeth, I thought I saw her raise her head and look at the clock, but I'm not sure. I just got into bed. I tried to fall asleep. But I was too damned excited. Finally I got up and went down to my little office. I turned on the computer and sent an e-mail.
Subject:: Motorcycle ride.
Message: Loved the cycle. It was great. Can we do it again? Can I come down tomorrow night? Can I meet your buddies? I want to make sure they really are as well hung as you say.
If I met his buddies, I would have a lot more real faces and bodies to imagine fucking Priscilla, when it was just little me.
The next morning after Priscilla left for the office, I ran into the computer room to see if I had an answer. I did.
Subject:: Do you doubt me?
Message: I told you my buddies were well hung. Your wife is going to get the gangfuck of her life when you finally move your ass and get things going. Yes. Okay. You can come down tonight and ride on my motorbike again. I don't know if all the guys are free tonight. I'll check. But you won't be disappointed. Later. Rocco
"You're going out again?" asked Priscilla in amazement, as I was putting on my jacket at eleven p.m.
"Yes. I need a little air. I'll be back in a little while."
"You're not seeing another woman, are you?"
"No. My God. No. Priscilla. No. I swear to you I am not seeing another woman. I just need a little fresh air. See you later." I kissed her on the cheek and went to my car.
We zoomed away as we had the night before, my arms tightly wrapped around Rocco's chest, as I pressed against his strong back. I felt very secure. I wasn't afraid of falling off. This time we zoomed right out to Highway 49. We pulled into the parking lot of Henry's Diner, right before the trailer park. Four guys were waiting for us inside.
We took the last two spots across from each other in a booth for six. Rocco introduced me to the other guys. There was Ernie, who was about 45, with thinning hair, and a little soft in the belly. There was Jesse who was tall, skinny and degenerate looking. I couldn't find a spot under his chin, which wasn't tattooed with dragons breathing fire and other such fun things. There was Igor, who it turned was in this country on asylum, having escaped from a Russian Gulag in Siberia, where they had sent him for manufacturing and selling moonshine vodka. He was about thirty, and big, and strong, and handsome in a Slavic sort of way. The last one was Rupert who it turned out was semi-retarded, but was an expert in fornication they assured me. Aside from looking a little dim, he was quite nice looking.
"Finky couldn't come," said Rocco. "He's the skinny little guy with the giant dick. He's busy fucking some bimbo tonight. He says she's one of the few who can take the whole thing, so he didn't want to miss out on that. He'll meet you some other time.
"Okay," I said.
We all chatted a little and joked a little. Finally Ernie brought up the subject.
"So Rocco, here, tells us you might be interested in having us gangfuck your wife. Is that right?"
"Yes. Yes," I nodded my head. "I'm trying to arrange things."
"We did that for this guy in Florida."
"Yes," I said. "Rocco told me."
"He paid us," he told me. "We would want to get paid for performing this little service for you."
"I thoroughly understand," I assured him. I was perfectly willing to pay for the pleasure of watching these guys give it to Priscilla. "How much would you want?"
"A Thousand bucks each. And that includes Rocco. Right, Rocco?"
"Fine," I said.
"In cash," said Rupert, who maybe wasn't so retarded after all.
"I can arrange that." I knew I could go to the bank and get 60 One Hundred Dollar bills and put 10 each in an envelope with a name on it, in payment for services rendered.
As we were paying for our coffees and divvying up the bill, getting ready to leave, I mumbled to Rocco. "I did want to check out the equipment."
"No problem, man," said Rocco. "In the parking lot. No one's around."
We went out and all the guys stood in a circle so no one could see what we were doing. They all opened their flies and drew out their meat. Even Rocco. I had been dying to see Rocco's most of all. They were all more than adequate. Even Ernie who was a little pudgy had a powerful piece of equipment when he let it stiffen out for me to see. But Rocco's was a work of art. I would have been so proud to have been blessed with such an endowment. I had always felt inferior to every other boy in the shower room.
The guys jerked themselves for two or three minutes while my eyes darted from one cock to the next, taking it all in. Evaluating the five pricks I wanted to purchase for Priscilla. Then they zipped up, and I climbed back on the Harley behind Rocco and we zoomed off, back into town where I would reclaim my car. My only regret was that I didn't get to see Finky's equipment, which was supposedly so spectacular.
When I got home, I didn't go right to bed. I was getting so caught up in this fantasy of mine, that I couldn't even function properly. I went straight into my little computer room and typed an e-mail to roccococco473.
Message: I want you guys to gangfuck my wife. I just don't know how to set it up. Any suggestions? Tibi
Then I went to bed. I needed Rocco to help me get this going, and I was sure he would. My heart was palpitating so, that I couldn't fall asleep the whole night. I got up the next morning in very bad shape and knew I would have a bad office day.
"You look terrible," noticed Priscilla.
"I couldn't sleep," I told her.
"Is there something bothering you?"
"No. No. I just couldn't sleep."
There was no e-mail in the morning. I mean there was e-mail but only spam, which I deleted. I did not have a letter from roccococco473. All day long at the office, all I could think of was getting home to see if he had any suggestions. How could our plan proceed?
I left work a little early to get home before Priscilla. If there was a letter I wanted to read it right away. With trembling hands, I turned on my computer and clicked my e-mail icon. Then I typed in my password, 'Dorabella', one of the characters in a Mozart opera that I loved. There it was. A response from Rocco.
Message: Okay. Here it is. You want to get your wife gangfucked, then this is how we should do it. Tell her you're inviting some friends from work over for a few drinks one evening---but not Wednesday, Thursday, or Friday, because I work. Have a liquor tray in the living room with a lot of fancy mixes. I'll say that because I'm a bartender, I'll mix the drinks. I'll mix a drink for everyone and hand it to them, but when I hand Priscilla her drink, it will have a little extra kick. Count to ten and she's out like a light. Then we carry her up to the bedroom and strip her, and then we get undressed and start fucking her pussy. We can't put a cock in her mouth while she's asleep because she might choke. So in about five minutes, she starts to come awake and wonders what's happening to her, and why it is feeling so good, and little by little she realizes that she has this big cock in her and she's getting fucked. At first, she's a little upset, but after a few more minutes those crazy feelings take over and she starts moving her hips in time to the fuck. She's loving it. She never had so much cock, but she wants more. Now we give her more. One of us straddles her face and forces his dick down her throat. She tries to struggle and fight him off, but she can't. I mean, there's six of us. What's she gonna do? So finally she accepts it. And then she starts learning what it's like to give a good blowjob. And after a while she starts to love it and wants to drink everybody's juice. And you---you're in your little armchair at the foot of the bed watching it all happen and stroking your dick, getting off on the scene. Now, one of the guys lies on his back and we make her sit on it facing him, then another one of the guys comes up behind her, and before she knows it she has a cock in her asshole too. She's getting fucked in two holes at once, and she loves it. Now one of us stands up on the bed, so that his cock is level with her lips, and she's doing three guys at once. Maybe she can jack two more dicks with her hands while she's at it. Does this sound good to you? Please let me know, and pick a date so I can confirm it with my buddies. Finky says he hopes your wife can take his whole dick, which almost nobody else can. P.S. Remember. We get a grand each for each of us. In cash, like we said. If you try to pull anything funny with the money after we perform this little favor for you, we'll cut your fucking balls off. Got it? Get back to me. Rocco
I sat at my computer desk and read the letter over and over as I freed my dick from my clothing. Actually, I just pulled down my pants and drawers. And I jacked myself to completion reading the letter over and over and over. I saw the whole thing in front of me. Vividly. Unfortunately I still had to use my imagination when picturing Finky.
It sounded like a good plan to me. But wouldn't Priscilla wonder how come my friends from the office were wearing leather, and tattered jeans and had a million tattoos? She would think that maybe they all lived in a trailer park or something. But once they were here, what could she do, except be polite and entertain her guests. Yes. It was a good plan. I only hoped that she would thank me for it later, as Rocco had told me she would.
I had the liquor tray and the fancy mixes and the booze, but I needed to go to the bank and get some cash. I would also have to make sure we had plenty of ice for the big silver bucket on the liquor tray. I could just pick up a bag at the store and keep it in the freezer until it was needed.
I looked at my calendar, and chose an evening. I typed my reply: How about Saturday the fourteenth which is like ten days from now. Is that good for everybody? Like around eight p.m. Get back to me. Tibi.
I clicked send. I shut off my computer. I pulled up my shorts and then my pants. I went to wash my hands. I was just drying them when I heard Priscilla come in the front door. My beautiful Priscilla. Did I have a surprise for her.
I withdrew the money from my savings account in One Hundred Dollar bills. Six Thousand Dollars. Well, it would be worth it. I was still waiting for a reply. Were we going to do it on the fourteenth? I kept running to my computer and checking my e-mail waiting for an answer. Dorabella. Dorabella. Dorabella. It seemed like ten times a night I was running upstairs to type Dorabella-to see if it was on or not. Then it came. What I had been waiting for my whole life long.
Message: All the guys are cool with it. We'll be coming on our bikes. Hope that doesn't bother you. 8 p.m. Saturday night the fourteenth the six of us gangfuck Priscilla while you sit in your armchair at the foot of the bed and pull on your peter. By the way. We need the address. Please send now. That will be confirmation of the deal.
I sent the address, which I had been withholding up until now.
I could barely look Priscilla in the eye now, knowing what I knew. I was in a terrible state of nervous anxiety, and often found myself babbling incoherently to myself. Priscilla was giving me these anxious looks. I think she thinks I'm going crazy. Maybe she's right. I did tell her that I was having some friends from the office over for drinks on Saturday night the fourteenth and she was okay with that.
* * *
Something is going on with my husband. He has been acting so
strangely for a long time now. We never have sex anymore. We barely talk
anymore. He's always in that stupid little room with his computer. And he goes
out frequently late at night. Where does he go? Who does he see? I asked him if
there was another woman. I came right out and asked. And he denied it. He said
there was no other woman. Was he lying to me?
He is lying next to me right now. He didn't go out late tonight. In fact he went up to bed early. He said he was very tired. He keeps tossing about in his sleep and mumbling things, which I can't understand. If this keeps up all night, I'll have to go downstairs and sleep on the pullout sofa.
He said "Dorabella."
"Dorabella. Dorabella. Dorabella."
"So there is another woman. Her name is Dorabella" I will confront him in the morning."
The next morning as he stepped out of his pajama bottoms and was reaching for his underwear, I stood in the bedroom doorway and just very casually asked.
"So who is Dorabella?"
His face went white and he dropped his shorts. He stood there naked from the waist down, his little cheating penis drooping.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"I asked who is Dorabella?" I repeated.
"No one. I don't know anyone name Dorabella."
"Funny! You kept saying her name over and over again in your sleep."
His face went white.
"Yes. So who is Dorabella?"
"I swear to you I don't know anyone by that name. I am not cheating on you."
He was such a liar.
"I swear," he put his hand over his heart. "The only Dorabella I know of is in "Cosi Fan Tutte."
"Cosi Fan what?"
"It's an opera. A Mozart opera. I heard it on the car radio a few days ago, I guess it must have been on my mind."
I didn't buy that for one minute. I just nodded and didn't say anything else. I let him finish getting dressed for work. Fortunately I didn't have to be in early this morning, so I could just dawdle and take my time.
Dorabella. Dorabella. A Mozart Opera? I didn't think so.
If only I knew what was going on with him. I have never pried before. We never invade each other's privacy, but I wanted to find out what was happening. He was always in that computer room. I had my own laptop which I used while I was lying in bed. I never touched his computer. I wondered if I could find anything out if I went into his computer.
I went into his crappy little room and switched it on. "Welcome," it said in print.
"Thanks," I answered. Where to start? Where to start?
I clicked onto his e-mail. A page came up. Please submit password with a little box and a blinking black line.
"Screw." I didn't know his password. I wanted to see his e-mails. Maybe they held some clue to the way he was behaving. Maybe he even had letters there from this Dorabella bimbo. I wanted to see what my competition was like. Who was Dorabella? Was she prettier than I? Smarter? Better in bed? Who was Dorabella? But I would never find out? Because I didn't know his fucking password.
"Dorabella Dorabella Dorabella," I kept repeating to myself, just as he had done last night in his sleep, and as I was saying her name, somehow automatically my fingers were typing it 'Dorabella.'
Suddenly his e-mail opened up to me. My god. Dorabella was his fucking password. I wondered who else she was. I started looking through his saved letters.
They were all from the same person.
roccococco473 and they were to Tibi---so that was his user name.
And the subject line which was visible without opening each letter on many of them was 'Gangfuck.' And one even said 'Gangfuck Priscilla'. I wanted to know more. I started reading the letters.
On Wednesday afternoon the eleventh at about 4 p.m., I drove to State Street and parked in the State Street Garage. I noticed a motorcycle chained to the parking meter in front of Corcoran's Bar and Grill. Well. It must have been his. Roccococco473 had said he and his friends would be coming to my house on their motorcycles.
I entered and sat upon a high stool before the bar. The bartender turned to me with a smile and his face, and then his jaw dropped.
"What'll you have?" he asked uncertainly.
"A little discussion," I said.
"Discussion? About what?"
"I think you know very well about what," I told him.
"I have very recently discovered that my husband has invited you and five of your buddies including one called 'Finky' who has more than most women can take, to come to my house this Saturday night, whereupon you will mix the drinks and pass them out, and I will get the one that has been drugged, whereupon you and your friends will carry me upstairs and fuck me in every orifice while my husband sits in an armchair at the foot of the bed and jacks himself off. Is that about right?" I asked.
"Yes." He swallowed. I saw his Adam's Apple move.
"And as compensation for this hard labor he is supposed to give you each One Thousand Dollars. Is that right?" I asked.
"Yep," he said. He was one very confused man.
"Well. I have a counteroffer. Shall we discuss it?"
"What's your counteroffer?"
"What I propose is this. You will all come to my house on your motorbikes at eight o'clock on Saturday Night as planned. But there will be one little change."
"Okay," he said. He was waiting to hear more.
"The one who gets the drugged drink will not be me. It will be my husband. The one who gets gangfucked by you and your compatriots will not be me. It will be my husband. For this, I am prepared to give you each Five Thousand Dollars. I have six thousand dollars in cash in my purse right now. If we have an agreement I will give you the six thousand cash right now, which you can distribute among you. And if you will give me a list of everyone's name, I will have a check for another Four Thousand for each one of you to be delivered upon completion of your task."
He couldn't believe what he was hearing. You're willing to go for Thirty Thou to have us gangfuck your husband?"
"I most certainly am. I realize the prospect of fucking my husband may not be as appealing to you as the prospect of fucking me, but do you think that you and your friends could fulfill my requirements?"
"Lady. It's no big deal. We've all been in prison. Believe me. We won't have any problem at all."
"So do we have a deal?"
"Should we shake on it?"
"A simple 'yes' will do."
He agreed and gave me the names of the other five bikers. I wrote out a check for each one of them for four thousand dollars right there at the bar.
"I will give you these checks on Saturday night," I told him. "When it's 'Mission Accomplished'."
* * *
It's Saturday night and the guys should be over in about a half
hour. I have the little liquor cart, which is on wheels, right in front of the
television set in the living room, and the big silver bucket was filled with
ice, which I had taken out of the freezer.
Priscilla has been unaccustomedly cheerful, the last few days. I can't figure out why. She's always giving me these funny little looks, and I can see her breaking into a big smile, which she always tries to hide. As for myself, I am a wreck. I don't know what I have gone and done, but I know that after this night my life will never be the same. All this to fulfill my greatest fantasy.
We heard the loud roar of many motorcycles outside our house, pulling into our driveway and onto our lawn. They were here. They rang the bell. I answered the door.
I greeted them all one by one and shook their hands, and introduced each one of them to my beautiful wife, Priscilla, whom I'd been telling them about. There was one strange face. A small wiry, thin guy about five foot five, almost elfin. He was probably in his late twenties, and he had red cheeks, and a little upturned nose, and dancing, twinkling, blue eyes. His hair was kind of light brown. A little darker than blonde. I knew that this must be the famous 'Finky' with the humongous dick. I threw my arms around his shoulder, and pretended like we were good friends.
"Hey there, Finky. Good to see you, man."
"You too buddy. Really good to see you," he answered me and clapped me on the back. When I had everybody seated, Priscilla called me outside of the room for a moment.
"You know these men from the office? They don't look like office types." She asked me.
"Yes." I said. We use this motorcycle delivery service. Rocco's Motormessenger. The big dark guy I just introduced you to is Rocco. The other guys all work for him. A great bunch of guys, Pris. You'll really like them. And I've been bragging about you so much to them, they wanted to meet you, and so I thought to myself, Hell, Why Not? And so I invited them here tonight. You don't mind do you?"
"No. Not at all," she said very cheerfully and we returned to the living room where I suggested I would pour drinks for everybody, but Rocco said "hell no. I'm a professional bartender. I'll mix the drinks."
"You're a professional bartender? I thought you had a Messenger service, Rocco. Ted told me his office used your company. Rocco's Motormessenger."
"Yeah. That too," he said. Rocco was really quick-witted.
The guys were all regaling us with stories of America and the open road, while Rocco mixed the drinks. Everyone had told him what they wanted, and he did the best he could with what I had on the little cart. Finally he handed me my drink and he handed Priscilla HER DRINK.
I took a sip. She took a sip. We continued chatting, and exchanging small talk but I was getting very sleepy. Maybe I needed another cold swallow to wake me up. This was my big night and I wanted to be wide awake in the armchair at the bottom of the bed to enjoy it all.
"Are you okay, Priscilla?" I asked. The drug didn't seem to be taking effect yet.
"I'm fine," she said. "Are you okay?"
"Fine," I said, but I was really sleepy. So I took one more cold swallow to wake me up.
I feel so warm and comfortable, and something is happening in my body and I don't know what it is, but it feels very soothing and pleasant and I feel like I am being held in someone's arms and it is such a pleasant feeling.
I feel like I am waking up. Have I been asleep? What did I miss? I hope I didn't miss anything. The guys were probably already fucking Priscilla and I was sleeping through everything after spending six thousand dollars.
But something was funny. It was like there was a weight on top of me. A heavy weight. And that pleasant feeling I had been feeling sort of unconsciously, I now realized I was still feeling, and it was something enormous stuck into my asshole and moving in and out.
"He's coming out of it," I heard someone say.
I heard a hot voice at my ear. The face of someone on top of me was breathing into my ear. "You like this big dick, baby? Tell Daddy how much you like this big dick." I shook my head as much as I could, trying to clear my thoughts. I tried looking to the side and I could tell that it was pudgy Ernie who was on top of me, and that's why it felt so heavy, and-----something else------he was fucking me. His cock was in my ass and he was fucking me. He was supposed to be fucking my wife, not me. What the hell?
"You got one sweet hot pussy, honey," said Ernie. "I think he likes it, guys. I think he's getting into it."
I opened my mouth to say "No I'm not" and suddenly someone's big dick was shoved down my throat. Fuck. Someone was fucking my throat and I was choking on dick.
"Fuck his ass. Fuck it good," I heard someone say, and I knew that voice. It was my wife Priscilla. I tried to turn my head but I was pinned in position by the cock in my throat. I was able to edge myself off of it for just a single second, which allowed me to pivot my head to see my wife sitting comfortably in the armchair at the foot of the bed, watching the spectacle of six motorcycle toughs fucking her husband. And she seemed to be very pleased with the whole situation. What had happened? What had gone wrong? I was supposed to be in that chair and she was supposed to be---and the guy shoved the cock back down my throat. I was able to raise my eyes just enough to see that it was Rupert, and he wasn't so dimwitted that he didn't know that he was getting his cock sucked, and he seemed to like it a lot.
I felt Ernie really battering against my asscheeks now, and he was making all kinds of groaning noises like he was going to orgasm or something, and then I felt all this hot liquid shooting up into me. And it felt kind of nice. As his motions slowed, and he rested upon my back, I allowed my asshole to enjoy the fullness of his softening penis, and give it little loving squeezes.
"That was great, baby. That's the best fuck I've had since I got off the cellblock." He gave my ear an affectionate little bite.
"Now that he's awake, I want him." That was Rocco. He had waited his turn till I woke up. He wanted me to be aware of his presence the whole time. I felt Ernie lift off me toward the right side, and I heard the mattress creak with the shifting of weight as Rocco positioned himself between my spread thighs and eased his cock into my wet oozing asshole.
"Oh. This feels nice," he said. "This feels like home. I wish my fucking wife had a cunt like this," he said. "You like it, baby? You like having Daddy's big dick up your asshole like this. Oh. This is so sweet. So sweet."
"Fuck him," screamed Priscilla. "I can see it. I can see your big shiny wet cock lifting out of his asshole and then slamming back in. Fuck his ass."
"Tell me how much you like it, sweetheart," Rocco whispered in my ear.
"I like it. Fuck me, Rocco. Let me feel your big dick up inside my hole. Yes." I was able to get those few words out before Rudolph grabbed my hair and slammed my mouth back around his dick. I kind of liked getting my throat fucked too, but it seemed like Rudolph was never gonna finish. I wanted to see what it would be like for someone to come in my mouth, so I started really sucking on him hard. I ran my tongue all over his dick, and I let him press the head of his knob against the back of my throat, which was choking me, but I was managing it. And then I heard him start making these pathetic little sobs, and I felt his dick throbbing inside my mouth, and I felt his hot cum shooting out against the back of my throat and sliding down, and as I continued sucking on his diminishing member, I began to enjoy the flavor of his ejaculate.
Meanwhile my asshole was clutching Rocco's rod, like it never wanted it to leave. It felt so damned good. And I really liked Rocco. From the very first time we met, I liked Rocco, and I was hoping I was making him feel as good as he was making me feel, and I used all the muscles inside my rectum to caress his rigid length.
"You want me to come inside your asshole, baby? You want Daddy's hot load?"
"Yes," I screamed, my mouth now free of cock. "I want Daddy's hot load."
"Give him what he wants," yelled Priscilla from the foot of the bed. "Give him your hot load." And with that encouragement, Rocco started sawing in and out like mad, and my ass accompanied every thrust and stab he made. I felt Rocco go into his short shoves, and I was glad I was able to give him my full attention as he sent his hot seed deep into my belly. This was so great. I realized this was even better than my original plan of watching them screwing Priscilla. They were screwing me, which was much more exciting. She was just a voyeur. I was getting all the attention.
"I want to have that sweet ass again soon, baby. Promise me. Promise Rocco."
"I promise," I promised as I sadly felt his length withdrawing from deep within me, and as he climbed off me I felt a slight chill on my back. I would either need a blanket or another body on top of me.
I was getting another body. It was Jesse. His colorful tattoo covered arms wrapped around my chest as he lay on my back and asscheeks, and his penis went into my well-fucked hole.
At the same time I felt another cock stabbing at my lips. I looked up and it was Igor. I opened my mouth for him, and it went in. It tasted exactly like vodka. Maybe moonshine vodka. Maybe his semen would intoxicate me.
"Take my dick, you fucking faggot," said Jesse. I guess he liked making me feel inferior. But I didn't feel inferior, I felt excited. I wanted him to keep talking dirty to me. This was really thrilling.
"What a hot tight little asshole this faggot has," crooned Jesse, grinding himself into me, and I loved it. I wanted more. More. I decided to give him the best fuck he had ever had, even when he was in prison. He was moaning and groaning into my ear. I wished that I were facing him, so I could see all his beautiful inked colors as he was screwing my ass.
But I had to devote more attention to Igor who was stroking his dick into my mouth, so I started to really suck and tongue him and he started to moan and groan also. I was giving incredible pleasure to two men at once. I felt the two of them approaching their climax almost simultaneously. I had Jesse's cream filling my bottom passage where it joined Ernie's and Rocco's. I had the cum of three men inside me. Wow! And that was only down there. I had already swallowed Rupert's load, and I was at this moment getting Igor's. You ask me how it tasted? Was it like an expensive cocktail? All I can say is that it only needed an olive.
I thought I was finished until I looked up and saw a tiny elfin face smiling at me. He was crawling over me. I twisted my head around to get a look at the fearsome Finky. Holy Hannah! I had never seen anything like that except maybe in a freak show. No wonder most women couldn't take him. They couldn't take him in their roomy cunts, and now he wanted to put it into my tiny assshole? No way! I would end up in the hospital. I tried to struggle but they all held me down.
"Come on, now," said Rocco. "Finky's gotta get his turn. Be a good little boy and don't put up a fuss."
When Rocco said that, I quieted down. I somehow knew that he wouldn't let Finky hurt me, and that if it wouldn't go in, he wouldn't let Finky force it. But it started to go in and it continued to go in and it continued to go in, and yes it hurt a little, but if I turned a little, yes, that was a little better and it was going so high up me. If his dick had had a little camera on it, it could have been a colonoscopy, it was so deep.
And then I felt his balls settle against my own and I knew that he had succeeded in getting the whole thing in me. It was like a miracle.
"Oh, wow, Finky," I said.
"He took it, guys. He took the whole fucking thing. Look. It's all inside him. Every fucking inch of it. Would you ever have believed it could be done. Send it to Ripley's Believe it or Not. His asshole took a whole foot of Finky's stiff dick."
And now Finky was fucking me, and Priscilla was yelling, "Yes. Yes. Fuck him with that ridiculous, obscenely large cock. Hurt him. Hurt him. I want to hear screams of pain."
She was hearing me moan and was enjoying thinking that I was in pain, and yeah maybe I was just a little bit but it was also good and I liked it, and I said, "yes, Finky. Fuck me with your big dick. Shoot your juice all the way up into my small intestine. Fuck me, Finky. Fuck me."
I don't think Finky was used to hearing anyone getting pleasure from his oversized endowment. They probably just suffered through it. So when I sounded like I wanted it, it got him incredibly excited and before I knew it he was shooting jet after jet of his hot syrup into me. We were both exhausted, and he just lay on top of me for a few minutes, which felt nice, and then slowly he started to draw it out, and it came out an inch at a time, which took quite a while, and as the knob slipped through my sphincter the juices of four men followed, and bubbled over my balls and flowed out onto the sheet in an endless thick white liquid stream.
"Okay?" Rocco asked. He was talking to Priscilla.
"Okay. You can have your checks," she answered.
I was trying to figure all this out, when Rocco said to me,
"Sorry, pal. This was a big money deal. The lady found out about it and paid us a lot more than you were gonna pay if we would switch the original plan and do it to you. But turnabout is fair play. Right?"
I didn't answer. But now everything was clear. Priscilla had obviously gotten into my computer. She had typed in the name of my supposed girlfriend, Dorabella, which I had babbled in my sleep-and it happened to be my password. She had gotten into my e-mail and learned everything. The whole scheme. Where Rocco worked. Everything. That was how I came to be the one who got the drugged drink and awoke to find myself being fucked in the ass. The best laid plans----right?
The guys all got dressed and Priscilla paid them, while I lay naked on the bed in a pool of cum. After they were gone, she said, "Excuse me. Get up. I have to change the sheets. You can go sleep down on the pullout sofa. I won't be in the same bed with you. You're dirty. You're defiled."
So that was how it was. My marriage was over. I went down to the sofa and got into bed. I didn't even shower. I wanted to feel all the cum drying on me. I told you I was a sicko at the beginning. Remember?
The next week was really, really bad. We were living in the same house, but she was not talking to me and I was not talking to her. "Why don't you just leave?" she asked me a couple of times. I didn't answer her. This was my house too. Where would I go? But I was really depressed.
That Wednesday, I couldn't sleep at all. I got dressed and went out and got into my car. I drove down to State Street and went into Corcoran's. It was close to midnight. The bar would be closing soon. I felt funny about seeing Rocco again after he had fucked my ass and everything, but I had to tell him what the little scene had brought about. That I was now an outcast in my own home.
"Hey. It's Tibi," he called jovially, as I came in the door.
"What brings you down here?"
"I needed to tell someone what was happening in my life, and I figured you were the only one who would really understand." And then I told him all the horrible things Priscilla had said to me, and how she was treating me, and how I hated to even go into the house. But I had paid for the house too. If she didn't want to be near me, she should move.
"You can't live like that," said Rocco. "You gotta get out of there. At least until things calm down."
"Yeah. I guess. I could go to a hotel."
"I tell you what. Since I'm the one who gave you all this trouble, I should be the one to help you out. Why don't you come and stay with me for a few days. Judy's staying at her mother's till the baby comes."
"Really?" I asked.
"Sure," he said. "In a hotel room you'd be all alone. That's no good."
"You're right. Maybe I should do that," I said. "Maybe I should drive home and pick up some things."
"Nah. It's late. You can pick up stuff tomorrow. Come with me now. I'll ride the cycle and you can follow me in your car. That way you won't have to leave your car here overnight, because the meters start swallowing quarters at eight a.m.
"Okay," I said. This probably was the best thing. After all, who better than Rocco could understand the trauma I had recently experienced and the suffering it was now causing me.
He locked up and climbed on his bike. I got in my car. He zoomed ahead of me all the way to the trailer park. I followed him to his front door, which he unlocked.
"Sorry. It's not so spic and span," he apologized. "I'm a sloppy kind of guy."
"I don't care," I said. I mean, who could care if he was sloppy, at least I was out of the frozen atmosphere in my own spic and span house.
"Oh. You just have one bed," I noticed.
"Well, yeah," he looked at me as if I were stupid. "It's a trailer."
"Right," I said. "I don't have any pajamas."
"Don't need 'em. Down here we sleep in the raw." He undressed and crawled into the bed. I didn't look at him. I turned and faced the front of the trailer as I got out of my own clothes, and then I got into the other side of the bed.
I tried to fall asleep, but about five minutes later, I felt Rocco pressed all along my back, and I felt a big erection stabbing at my butt crack. He threw one of his powerful arms around me and clutched me to him, while whispering in my ear.
"You know why you came down to Corcoran's tonight. Don't you? You know why you came to the trailer park. Don't you?"
I didn't answer.
"You know why you're lying next to me in this bed. Don't you?
I didn't say anything.
"It's cause you want this cock again. Don't you?"
I kept my silence.
"Yeah," he laughed softly into my ear. "You want this cock all right. You want this big cock up your hot little ass again. Don't you?"
I decided to let him do all the talking. But suddenly he gave my ass a vicious swat with the flat of his hand. "Answer me, goddamnit. You want this cock of up your ass again. Don't you?"
"Yes," I said. That slap really stung.
"Well you're gonna have to beg for it."
"What?" I asked.
"I said your gonna fucking have to beg for it." And he gave me another vicious swat.
"Please can I have your cock up my ass?" I asked. I couldn't believe those words were coming out of my mouth, but I suddenly realized I did want his cock up my ass, and though his slaps had hurt, they had also excited me.
"No you can not," he said. "Not until you crawl down between my legs and get your mouth all over that cock. And all over my balls. And all over my ass cheeks. And into my asshole."
I didn't know what to do. I just kept lying there.
Then he gave me a couple of more swats and yelled at me. "Well, get down there and do it, you fucking slut. If you want my cock up your ass without paying me, you're gonna have to do a little work first. Now get down there, bitch." And he hit me again. I was stunned and a little afraid. I didn't waste another second. I moved. I crawled down between his hairy thighs and began making lip love to his hairy balls. I licked his hairy ass. I licked between his hairy butt cheeks. And I did what I really didn't want to do. I started licking his asshole. He reached down and pulled apart his cheeks. "Get that tongue in there, bitch." So I did.
He seemed satisfied with what I was doing for a while, but then he grabbed my hair and pulled my face up until I was looking straight into his narrow eyes. "Now suck my cock and suck it good. And if you suck it good, maybe I'll stick it into your asshole and give you a good fucking. You need a good fucking don't you?"
"Yes," I said.
"What was that?" He cracked me across the face. First one way and then the other. "Louder, boy. I didn't hear you. Beg me to let you suck my big cock."
Now I understood. "Yes, sir. Yes. Please let me suck your beautiful cock for you. Please. Please. Please, sir."
"That's better, faggot."
I took his dick in my mouth and worked on it like a dog. Occasionally I went back to his balls and his ass, but mostly I sucked him. He seemed to be enjoying it. He was just lying there with this blissful look on his face. "That's a good boy. My boy really knows how to suck cock. Doesn't he?"
"Yes, sir," I said. I saw him smile at me and I was happy. I wanted him to smile at me.
Finally he said to me, "You ready to get your ass fucked now, bitch?"
"Yes, sir. Yes. Please. Fuck my ass."
He pulled me up and flattened me out on the mattress. Then he climbed over me, and I felt his thick blunt knob pressing against the tender flesh of my sphincter ring, which was ever so slowly parting and parting and parting, and allowing him access to my innermost chambers. I felt it sliding into me, as my fleshwalls closed around it. When I felt his balls hit my own, I knew he had reached bottom. I felt him relax on top of me, just lying with his full weight on me without moving.
"You like that, baby? You like feeling Daddy's big hot dick inside your hungry little asshole?"
"Yes. Fuck me, Daddy. Please fuck me." And I started working my ass muscles around his dick to please him.
"That's it, baby. You're one hot little number, you are. I'm gonna make you my permanent bitch cunt whore. Would you like that, baby? Would you like to be Daddy's bitch cunt whore?"
"Yes. Yes. Please, Daddy. Please make me your bitch cunt whore. Fuck my pussy. Please fuck me, Daddy." Now I knew what he needed to excite him, and it excited me too.
He started to move on top of me, and it felt so good. I loved it when he pressed all the way in. And he was licking my ear, and saying things like "My little bitch cunt whore. I love fucking my little bitch cunt whore. He's got a much tighter pussy than my old lady. Much, much tighter. Oh. So good. So good."
But then he pulled it out. Why?
"Turn over," he ordered me. I turned over. He raised my legs up and fed his cock back into my ass from the front, while kneeling.
"This is how I fuck my old lady usually. Face to face. You like this, honey? You like it?"
"Yes," I said. "I love it. Please fuck me, Daddy. Face to face." Then he moved so that he wasn't kneeling any more but was just stretched out over me, and my legs, which were up in the air wrapped around him and embraced him. We were face to face, and he stuck his tongue into my mouth. I sucked on it greedily. I sucked on it as if it were his cock. Meanwhile his dick was moving so gently in and out of me. I had never had such feelings.
"You like this, baby? You like the way I'm fucking you?"
"Yes. I love it."
"So you wanna be my permanent bitch cunt whore, or what?"
"Yes. Forever. Forever and ever. And I wasn't lying. He kissed me again and his hips gained velocity, and I felt the huge dick that was stuffed inside of me swell in anticipation of shooting out his hot white cream. And then he shot. And shot. And shot. I held onto his firm asscheeks with my hand and moved him into me further with each spurt, and he was totally surrounded by my arms and by my legs. And by my love.
I went back to the house the next day, while Priscilla was at work, and packed up everything I would need and moved my life into the trailer with Rocco.
We slept in that bed together every night, and he cursed me, and slapped me, and kept spitting into my mouth to make me totally subservient. But he also let me suck his beautiful dick, and balls, and asshole, which I loved so much. And then he would fuck me in all the most extraordinary positions. And I felt that life would continue like this forever, but I was wrong, because one day he said to me "Judy had the kid, and she's moving back in with the baby. That means you have to sleep on the floor at the foot of the bed."
"On the floor?" I asked. I couldn't believe what he was saying.
"Well, yeah. She gets the bed. She's my fucking wife, isn't she?"
So Judy moved back in with the baby. He introduced us. "This is Tibi," he told her. "He's my bitch cunt whore. Tibi. This is Judy, my old lady."
"Hi, Judy," I said.
"Hi," she answered. She really was ugly and trashy and trampy looking. I wondered how a handsome guy like Rocco ended up with something like that.
So I was sleeping on the floor, while she was lying in the bed getting fucked. Was this how it was going to be? And the baby kept crying, and she wouldn't get up. I had to get up and rock it, and then I had to make her feed it. She was a terrible mother.
Every so often, Rocco rewarded me, by making her sit on the floor and wait while he fucked me on the bed. It was the least he could do. I was doing everything in the trailer. I was keeping it clean. I was doing the cooking. I was taking care of the baby. I even had to quit my job because Judy was such a lousy mother, and I couldn't leave her alone with Rocco Junior. Not even for a minute. And she was nasty to me, making me feel like an unwelcome intruder. I hated Judy.
And they fought all the time. Yelling and screaming and cursing at each other. And she hit him, but he hit her right back and gave her a big black eye. "You fucking bastard," she screamed. That was how it was. Why did I stay? Don't ask me. I don't know. I already told you I was a sicko. And you've seen it for yourself, so don't even ask.
Things went on like this for more than two years, and it was a terrible situation for little Rocco Junior to grow up in. Constant bickering. I kept trying to keep peace between the two of them, but it was impossible. One night we needed some groceries, so Rocco and I climbed upon his motorcycle and zoomed over to the market. We bought what we needed and zoomed home. When we entered, we found the baby alone in his crib. Judy wasn't there. She had left the baby alone.
I went to put the American Cheese in the little refrigerator, and then I saw it. The note under the magnet where I usually kept my shopping list.
It said, in no uncertain terms. She had left. We never saw or heard from Judy again. Even her mother didn't know where she was.
We gave her a chance to return. But after two weeks Rocco moved me back into the bed, and it was right back to the way it used to be, with the slapping, and the spitting in my mouth, and his kissing me, and making me orally service his lower body, and finally blissfully fucking me all night long in every possible position. It was heaven.
Every few months Rocco would send Rocco Junior to visit his grandmother for a couple of weeks so we could be alone together. But we weren't always alone. He often invited the other guys over for an evening of entertainment. I was the entertainment. He would order me to service them all, and would make me let them stick it into me. I knew he liked to have them see how well I obeyed him, so I always did whatever he told me to do. Besides I liked them all. Ernie, Jesse, Igor, Rupert, and especially Finky.
Finky was always especially sweet to me and was always giving me these wistful, longing looks. I knew he wished that I belonged to him and not to Rocco. After all, I was one of the few people on the planet who could fully appreciate or accommodate Finky.
As the years went by. I tried to make us a family. I tried to be a good mother. I did everything I could for Rocco Junior. But he was always getting into trouble. He was stealing cars, and robbing stores and beating up homos. All nice things. He eventually dropped out of school, and it became clear that we weren't going to lose him to college, but to prison.
And then what we feared came to pass. It seemed that somehow, unknown to us, Rocco Junior had become the bag boy for a large crime syndicate, and they did indeed leave him holding the bag. He was tried and convicted and sent to Juvenile Detention to be followed by many years in the State Penitentiary.
Rocco was devastated. This was how his son had turned out. Well, I say he took after his mother. But finally after all these years, Rocco and I were alone together again in the little trailer. We were empty nesters, free to make love in all the strange permutations we had always enjoyed together, with no more trying to cover up our words or our sighs of ecstasy from the child. I was happy at last. This was what I had always wanted my life to be, and it had taken so many years.
The only thing is I have no more fantasies. I have done everything.