A Lesson For Melissa - PART IV

By Buckaroo Bonzai

Naturally, I was running late. With my wife's (hopefully) 
final encounter with her blackmailers scheduled for that 
night, I'd tried to get to the studio as early as possible. 
But of course, my boss, bad traffic and a driving rain all 
conspired to set me back. 

The rigors of implementing my big plan during the preceding 
week didn't help. The first step had been to plant a seed in 
my wife's mind. I wanted to give her a good threat to use 
against her tormentors, without creating any suspicions that 
I knew what was going on. 

"Hun? Listen to this," I'd said earlier that week, rustling 
the newspaper as though reading from it. "That 
actress...what's her name...the one whose husband is 
divorcing her because of all the pictures he found with her 
and all those other men...well, she found a way to explain 
it! She said she'd been drugged and then they took advantage 
of her, repeatedly. She said all you have to do is look at 
her eyes in the pictures to see how dead they look. Of 
course, now it's her word against their's. And surprise! She 
doesn't want to prosecute them and drag her name through the 
mud. She just wants them to leave her alone. I don't know if 
the husband's going for it, but it sure makes a pretty good 
excuse."

I figured that would be enough of a clue. When she's not 
under the pressure of a deadline, Melissa's a pretty quick 
thinker. 

As I pulled into the office parking lot, the last employees 
were straggling out the door. The building would be pretty 
empty tonight; thunderstorms and heavier rains were expected 
later in the evening, making a late-night trek to one's car 
even more miserable. I slipped inside and took up a post in 
the men's room just outside the studio's reception area. I 
planned on stealing inside as soon as Melissa took off for 
her dinner break in the cafeteria. 

As I waited, I reviewed the phone call I'd received just an 
hour ago, reporting on the success of Part 2 of the Big 
Plan. You see, once I'd found out for sure that the three 
weasels were going to back out of their deal with my wife, I 
called in a big debt with the owner of an area private 
detective agency. It was no problem for his guys to break 
into and search Smoothy's, Shy Guy's and Punk's houses, in 
search of the other set of negatives. They'd found the 
negatives at Punk's house, none too creatively stashed under 
his mattress. They'd also found a couple of photos at 
Smoothy and Shy Guy's houses, which they would also turn 
over to me. The detectives all knew and respected Melissa; I 
had no doubt they would keep quiet about what they found, if 
they even looked at all. Now there was no more hard evidence 
that Melissa had ever fucked around with someone else. And 
once she got the pictures and negatives they owed her 
tonight, no more blackmail material. 

That was the good news. The bad news was the information the 
detective agency gave me about "Terry," the new director 
that the guys manipulated Melissa into accepting. This was 
something I couldn't help Melissa with. She'd have to find 
out on her own, and deal with it on her own. 

Waiting in the mens' room, I glanced at my watch. Time was 
growing short, and Melissa still hadn't taken her break. If 
she didn't leave soon, I would miss the final fuck-a-thon. 
Now that I knew for sure that this would be the last night, 
I didn't feel quite as guilty letting my wife be punished 
for her indiscretions. And I still wanted to watch over 
things, to make sure they didn't go too far.

Finally Melissa left to grab something to eat, and I darted 
inside, immediately going to my outpost in the Producer's 
room. She'd powered up all the equipment in the control 
room, and the floor camera was already in place pointing at 
the mattress and desk. This time everything was set up on a 
carpeted platform, and there were even a few plastic potted 
plants nearby. Fortunately, the control room door was 
propped open, and I knew from last week's session that it 
would probably stay that way.

No sooner did I get settled than Melissa came back, munching 
on a sandwich and bustling about the studio. I could see 
nervousness in her energetic fussing; evidently last week's 
events left her somewhat shaken.

Finally, at five minutes to the hour, Smoothy, Shy Guy and 
Punk trooped in, followed by a petite, yet buxom blonde. No 
more than five-foot-two, this little dish wore a short, 
tight black skirt that prominently displayed her tiny legs 
and rounded butt. Her scoop-neck sweater was nicely filled 
out by substantial cleavage, in turn framed by long, 
glistening blonde hair. With an upturned nose and high 
cheekbones, her face was just barely marred by a somewhat 
crooked smile. Her eyes, I thought, would normally be a 
sparkling blue, but today were cloudy and glassy. As soon as 
she giggled at the sight of Melissa's face, I knew she was 
probably pretty high.

"Liss, I'd like you to meet Terry, my girlfriend," Smoothy 
said, suavely handling the introductions. "She'll be our 
guest director for this evening. Terry, this is Melissa, the 
one I've told you so much about. 

"And I've told her everything," Smoothy added, in an aside 
to Melissa.

"Heeeeyyy! This wasn't part of the deal," Melissa protested, 
sidling away from the other woman. "I mean, you can't want 
me to do you in front of your girlfriend!"

"Since we haven't actually started, I'll overlook the fact 
that you didn't call us Master. And to answer your question, 
you not only have to do me in front of my girlfriend, you 
have to do whatever my girlfriend says! Or no pictures. No 
negatives. No nothing! Got that?"

Faced with that ultimatum, Melissa backed down, nodding her 
assent. With that, Terry reached into Smoothy's backpack and 
drew out a white cloth. "Here, put this on," she ordered 
with a predatory smile, throwing the cloth at Melissa. Head 
hanging, Melissa went behind a studio curtain to change, 
while the guys readied the studio for the shoot. 

When my wife emerged from behind the curtains, all activity 
stopped. The guys looked at her as though seeing her for the 
first time, Terry regarding them all with a sly smile. The 
white garment turned out to be a body suit, which draped 
from Melissa's throat down to her crotch. High-necked and 
lacy, it perfectly encased her body, stretching seductively 
over her tits, creating a taut tent down to her flat belly, 
and bunching tightly between her legs. At Terry's order, she 
pivoted and modeled the back, which swept sharply up over 
her ass, revealing just enough of her muscled ass cheeks. 
The fabric clung tightly to her hips, sides and back, ending 
high on the neck, well under her soft, bouncy hair. The high 
cut of the suit really set off her legs, and the bright 
whiteness made her bare arms look especially smooth and 
elegant.

"I want her," Terry blurted, breaking the trance. "You guys 
have had her enough. I want a turn."

"Whaddaya mean?" Smoothy asked, beckoning my wife over to 
him. 

"Just put me in charge of her. I'll make sure she takes real 
good care of you. She'll be my slave, and I'll be giving her 
to you. And if you want anything special, all you have to do 
is ask me."

"Well guys?" Smoothy asked, checking with them for any 
objections. 

When Shy Guy and Punk nodded yes, Smoothy clapped his hands 
and said, "Allright, then. Let's get it on!" And he 
immediately started stripping off his clothes, followed 
closely by Shy Guy and Punk. 

When all three guys were down to their jockey shorts, Terry 
lined them up in a row, and positioned the studio camera to 
get a good shot. She'd wanted to use the hand-held camera, 
but Melissa had put her foot down, saying that she wouldn't 
allow anyone who hadn't been trained to use a $12,000 
camera. The rolling studio camera, equipped with a fantastic 
zoom lense, had been their compromise. 

"Okay, slave," Terry called to Melissa. "You've got some 
greeting to do!"

Shy Guy set the tone by having my wife kneel in front of 
him, and bend way over to kiss the tops of his bare feet. 
After placing kisses on both shins, knees and thighs, Shy 
Guy ordered her to reach inside and hold his cock with one 
hand, while pulling the jockeys down with the other. With 
his cock only in the semi-hard state, she was able to take 
its full length into her mouth. Using her lips to stimulate 
the base, and her hands to play with his balls, his dick 
quickly began to harden. 

In less than a minute, she was no longer able to accommodate 
his massive cock in her mouth, and it's very expansion had 
pushed her head away from his body. Though it was obvious 
that she could barely breathe, she gamely kept him inside 
her, making uncertain attempts to bob her head and stimulate 
his pulsating meat. Finally he pulled it out of her, and she 
licked and kissed every inch of it, obediently sucking the 
pre-cum that occasionally welled up from the tip. Terry, 
inexpertly working the camera, still caught every moment of 
it, with the cum and saliva deliciously gleaming in the 
studio lights.

Pulling my wife to her feet, Shy Guy quickly attached his 
lips to hers, his tongue exploring her mouth. His hands 
grasped at her breasts, desperately squeezing at them, the 
fabric and flesh protruding between his fingers. He lowered 
his head and found her nipples beneath the sheer fabric, 
frustratedly sucking at them but getting a mouthful of 
cotton, instead. 

"Here, maybe this will help," Terry interrupted from her 
perch behind the camera. Digging into Smoothy's backpack, 
she advanced on Melissa with a pair of scissors. "Well, 
slave, you have very beautiful boobs," Terry commented, 
shyly and then more boldly touching my wife on the shoulder. 
"Too nice to keep covered up." 

Holding the scissors in her right hand, Terry reached out 
and caressed the side of my wife's right breast. Melissa 
quickly averted her eyes, but didn't shy back. With an 
encouraging look from Smoothy, Terry continued her 
exploration, as Shy Guy watched mesmerized. Moving closer, 
her fingertips trailed across the top of my wife's tit, over 
the valley, and to the top of her right breast. Cupping her 
hand, she tried to weigh the flesh, but found Melissa's tit 
far too constrained by the body suit. Fingers outstretched 
and palm down, she grasped her boob and pulled it outward, 
until her fingertips covered only the nipple, erect and 
straining against the lacy netting. 

By now, Terry was close enough to Melissa to share the same 
breath. Slowly, sesuously, she reached up and placed her 
lips against my wife's exposed throat, smiling slightly as 
Melissa involuntarily drew back, and then obediently settled 
back into place. She left two more feather-light kisses on 
my wife's neck, her hand never leaving its hold on her 
nipple. Then, standing back, she repeated her grasping 
gesture, this time taking hold of the body suit and pulling 
it outward from Melissa's breast. Bringing the scissors up, 
she silently sliced through the fabric bunched in her 
fingertips, smiling as the remainder of the suit snapped 
back into place. Now, where her nipple had once been trapped 
by the lace, there was a jagged hole, with her hard nipple 
and aureola peeking through. Terry then cut a similar hole 
over the other breast, leaving Melissa standing there with 
her nipples totally exposed, ready to service all the guys.

"There, now we don't have that nasty, ol' suit in the way," 
Terry purred, sashaying her way back to her seat behind the 
camera.

After that display, Shy Guy needed no convincing, and he 
bent to attack my wife's tits with a fury. After several 
minutes of licking, sucking and nibbling, the whole area at 
the top of her tits was stiff and red. The holes had torn 
farther open and become frayed, although the tightness of 
the body suit still kept her boobs fully lifted and 
separated.

Finally Shy Guy relinquished his hold on my wife, and she 
made her way down to Punk. There she spent several minutes 
furiously sucking at his cock, leaving him sweaty and 
trembling. Finally, he pulled her up and away, suckling at 
her nipple while exploring her ass with his hands. Briefly 
he struggled with the body suit in back before Terry 
intervened.

"Here, let me help you with that," she offered, brandishing 
the scissors. This time she had Melissa bend over, facing 
away, her plump, delicious ass pointing towards the sky. 
Terry approached her and, handing the scissors to Punk, 
proceeded to softly run her hands over my wife's butt, 
feeling the hard muscles, caressing the warm flesh, 
intimately tracing the crevices and contours with soft, 
knowing fingers. 

Finally she took the scissors back and cut wide swaths of 
cloth from the back of the suit, leaving only thin strip, 
which quickly snapped into place between Melissa's cheeks. 
Again Terry sashayed back to her camera, and I watched on 
the monitor as Punk knelt down and tongued my wife's entire 
exposed ass, kissing, sucking and nibbling at it until it 
was bright red and thoroughly wet. 

Still on her hands and knees, Melissa made her way down to 
Smoothy, who by this time had figured out what Terry was up 
to. After Melissa had kissed his feet, he put her to work 
licking his cock, instructing her to start at the base and 
lick up to the tip, doing each side in a clockwise order. 
Terry zoomed the camera in for a truly intimate shot, 
showing in detail the rough texture of her tongue next to 
the milky smoothness of his cock's underside. Farther up, 
the blood red color of her tongue contrasted perfectly with 
the jagged blue hue of his veins. Then, at the tip, her 
pearly teeth made slight indentations into the purplish, 
mushy head, as the tip of her tongue brushed against his cum 
hole, seemingly seeking a tiny kiss from it's slightly 
grinning lips. 

Mesmerized by the erotic beauty of this picture, I was quite 
startled when Smoothy yanked my wife's face away from his 
dick. Pulling her up, he too bent to suckle at her tits, 
licking the nipples before turning his attentions to the 
sides of each breast, his efforts frustrated by the clingy 
body suit.

"Looking for some help, little boy?" Terry piped up, 
scissors at the ready. This time she seated Melissa on a 
stool and stood before her, so their tits were on the same 
level. Boldly she leaned forward and pinched my wife's 
nipples, still erect and damp from Smoothy's ministrations. 
Melissa quickly closed her eyes, and I couldn't tell if she 
was enjoying the attention or was disgusted by it. 
Continuing her explorations, Terry rolled the nipples 
between her fingers, giggling as Melissa instinctively 
leaned forward. Then, after licking her lips, she bent 
forward and placed a soft, wet kiss on my wife's left 
nipple, flicking it with her tongue before withdrawing. She 
placed another on the right one, this time sucking slightly 
as she pulled away. 

With a satisfied smile, she lifted the scissors and cut two 
larger holes in the suit, leaving my wife's breasts totally 
exposed and ready for action. This time Terry didn't leave 
immediately, but continued to fondle and caress each tit, 
bouncing them up and down, and sucking at the nipples with 
loud slurping noises. 

When Terry finally returned to her perch, Smoothy took up 
where she left off, assailing Melissa's tits like never 
before. At last, he too was done, and Smmothy and my wife 
stood locked in a passionate kiss. Shy Guy changed the tape 
in the control room and went back to the studio, giving me 
ample time to erase it.

"What about me? Don't I get a greeting?" Terry asked, when 
Smoothy finally broke his embrace. "You'd think the Master 
should get one, don't you, slave?"

I watched in amazement as Melissa, trembling, slowly 
approached Terry, who was seated on a padded bar stool, her 
feet not touching the floor. Terry ordered her to kneel and 
remove her shoes, directing her to kiss her feet, ankles and 
calves along the way. Holding out her feet, she had Melissa 
suck and kiss every toe, pausing every so often to twiddle 
my wife's breasts with her feet.

Then she stood, swiveling her hips in a raunchy dance, 
before instructing my wife to loosen and remove her tight 
skirt. The sound of the zipper going down seemed to last 
forever, reverberating through the studio. But in just 
seconds my wife held the black skirt, and Terry stood clad 
in a black G-string that left nothing to the imagination. 
Ordering Melissa to her feet, Terry stood with her hands 
over her head, and we all watched as my wife stripped her 
sweater off, revealing a pair of 38D's that were barely held 
in check by a lacy, half cut bra.

"Make sure you fold those nice n' neat, slave," Terry 
called, as Melissa put the skirt and top on a nearby chair. 
Sitting back on her stool, Terry called Melissa back over to 
her, and pulled her to stand between her legs. "Do you boys 
want to see who has bigger tits? Me or my slave?" 

"Yea-ah," Shy Guy answered first, swallowing past the lump 
in his throat. They all crowded closer as Terry instructed 
Melissa to release the front clasp on her bra. With 
trembling hands, Melissa reached forward and unhooked the 
clasp, taking care to touch as little skin as possible. 
Terry giggled as her tits bounced free, the nipples large 
and stiff, the aureolas large as half dollars. Taking 
Melissa's hand, she placed it under one tit, and ordered her 
to rub and massage it. She then ordered her other hand to do 
the same, and soon my wife rubbing her hands all over 
another woman's tits, a sight I never thought I'd see in 
true life. 

"Don't forget my nips," Terry moaned, leaning into my wife's 
hands. But after Melissa pinched her just once, Terry 
admonished, "Not so rough, not so rough. Get 'em wet, 
first!" Then, grabbing Melissa's hair, she pulled her lips 
down to her breast, and urged Melissa to lick it all over. 
Tentatively, and then with more confidence, Melissa tongued 
this girl's tits, sweeping up the spongy flesh, circling 
around the aureola, and finally tasting the budding nipple. 
At the vocal urging of the guys, and my own silent voice, 
Melissa sucked and nibbled on Terry's nipples, switching 
from one to the other at will. 

By this time, my cock was rock hard, and I had to will 
myself not to shoot off right then. The guys in the studio 
were all sporting hard-ons, too, but they were in a position 
to do something about it. After watching Melissa ravage 
Terry's tits for a while longer, Smoothy put an end to the 
show with a hearty, "Damn, but I'm ready for a good fuck!"

With that, Terry pushed Melissa away and regarded her, a 
gleam lighting her eyes. "Then I'm just gonna have to get 
her ready for ya, honey bunch. Ya can't give her a good 
fuckin' with that suit in the way, now can ya? Let's 
see...what can I do to help?"

I watched in wonder as Terry seated my wife on the edge of 
the desk, then brought up a chair and sat before her. As 
Smoothy brought the camera around to capture this new angle, 
the other two also grabbed chairs and sat down for the show. 
Unfortunately, I couldn't see past them, and had to rely on 
the monitor to keep an eye on things. 

With Melissa watching intently, Terry leaned forward and 
traced her fingers down my wife's body, starting at the tops 
of her tits, running across the sensitive nipples, down past 
her rib cage, over her ticklish stomach, and down towards 
the golden gate they all seemed to desire. The body suit 
stretched tautly against my wife's body, her dark bush a 
shadow behind the feathery fabric, the cloth bunched up as 
it disappeared between her legs. Terry's ruby red 
fingernails and tan hands stood out starkly in contrast to 
the dazzling white fabric. Occasionally the edge of a long 
fingernail would snag on the fabric, pulling it a little 
more tightly into my wife's highly sensitive crotch.

Finally Terry's fingers reached their goal, the mound of 
Venus straining to be free of the confining body suit. Terry 
wasted no time, thumbing at my wife's slit through the 
dampening cloth, peeling one side of fabric away to reveal a 
pink fold of skin, the entrance to my wife's hot, humid 
cunt. Artfully she dragged her fingernail up and down this 
ridge, smiling as Melissa squirmed under her touch. Up and 
down the length of it the fingernail crept, bouncing 
slightly as it met small bumps and crevices in the folds of 
skin. 

Stretching the cloth farther to the side, Terry revealed the 
whole of Melissa's cunt. Now she used all her fingers to 
gently rake up and down the pouting lips, grinning openly as 
Melissa sought to hump her fingers. Always touching, but 
never penetrating, her fingertips danced across the 
sensitive skin, caressing her anus, tickling her inner 
thighs, scuffing about in her tangled bush. Finally, using a 
half-inch long fingernail, she parted my wife's cunt lips, 
running the nail up and down along the insides of her pussy 
lips. With a moan, Melissa opened her legs wider, her pussy 
stretching open in response. Gently, slowly, Terry dipped 
her finger inside, momentarily startled at how firmly 
Melissa's pussy clenched upon her daring finger. Soon 
another finger joined the first, and then a third, plunging 
and withdrawing, learning the intimate secrets of my wife's 
cunt as surely as she knew her own. 

In response, Melissa bucked her hips against the invading 
hand, seeking more and more stimulation. Now her juices were 
openly flowing, dripping down onto the desktop, covering 
Terry's hand with a gleaming wetness. Terry found and 
exposed my wife's clit, flicking at it and rubbing it with 
her hard fingernails. You could almost see the tiny pearl 
straining for more, Melissa continually trying to grind her 
pussy against Terry's ever-active hands.

The sight of this woman finger-fucking my wife was such a 
turn-on, there was pre-cum literally flowing out of my cock, 
without any stroking on my part whatsoever. Though I 
couldn't see their faces, I knew this was pure torture for 
them, and they would be all the more eager to bury their 
cocks in my wife's juicy cunt. With just a few flicks of her 
finger, Terry had power over three men and one woman. So it 
didn't surprise me at all when Terry brought my wife right 
to the edge of orgasm, but denied her the final release.

"Now you can't have yours until we get ours, right?" she 
quipped, tugging at the fabric between my wife's legs. 
Bunching it together, she quickly cut through it, trimming 
it so it wasn't flapping around in the front or back. 
"Oooh...you look almost good enough to eat. Anybody hungry?"

The three guys almost tripped over themselves volunteering, 
with Terry selecting Shy Guy as the first diner. In a flash 
he was kneeling before the desk, licking at my wife's cunt 
as she strained against his face. Soon his face was covered 
in her juices, but she was no closer to cumming, as in his 
inexperience his tongue instinctively sought the deeper, 
darker recesses of her hole. Still, she got enough 
stimulation to remain on the edge, her hands fiercely 
grabbing the edge of the desk, her moans becoming more and 
more desperate. When Smoothy replaced Shy Guy at the 
entrance to my wife's cunt, he knew exactly what to do. Like 
his girlfriend, he enjoyed having power over people, and 
several times he licked her into a frenzy, always stopping 
just before the final, explosive moment. 

Now Melissa was literally begging for it, her back arched 
off the table, her hips straining upwards, her cunt splayed 
open, eager to receive the final, exalted touch. And into 
the void stepped Punk, already licking his lips. Having 
already proven his expertise, he gloried in my wife's 
helplessness, urging her to beg more and more vocally for 
his talented tongue. Instructing spread her legs farther, he 
dove into her muff, his tongue first seeking her depths, 
before playfully licking the outer gates, getting closer and 
closer to her engorged clit. Still she begged for it; still 
he kept her on the edge of the chasm. totally enslaved to 
him. Sweat streaked her body; she grimaced and moaned as 
though in pain. Having done this to her myself, I knew how 
impatient she was for release. She didn't appreciate the 
exquisite anticipation like I did. She only knew what she 
wanted. And she would promise anything to get it. I just 
hoped she wouldn't promise them anything extra in exchange 
for this one orgasm.

Having brought her to the highest peak so far, Punk gestured 
for Terry to come over. Bending over Melissa's straining 
body, she took my wife's bobbing tit into her mouth, sucking 
noisily on the nipple. With that, Smoothy found her clit 
with his tongue and began lashing at it, his whole head 
shaking back and forth like a mad dog. In seconds, my wife's 
passion crested, her legs closing around Punk's head, her 
hands grabbing and massaging her other tit. Head thrown 
back, she yelled "Oh, yes!" joyfully, repeatedly, her body 
heaving in time, Terry still attached and suckling her 
quivering tit.

Then it was over. My wife lay sprawled back on the desktop, 
her cunt open and gleaming in the lights. Punk wasted no 
time, standing between her legs and sinking his ramrod 
straight cock deep into her waiting pussy. He drilled her 
hard for the first dozen strokes, each pounding thrust 
eliciting an excited squeal from my wife. Then he slowed 
down and ground into her with a deliberate rhythm, his cock 
disappearing to the hilt into her steaming hole. Each time 
he withdrew, he pulled out more juice, until his cock was 
slick as ice. 

In a few minutes Shy Guy replaced Punk at the helm. This 
time his huge cock slid in unimpeded, her cunt lips 
thoroughly lubricated with juice. He, too, drilled her hard, 
as if in punishment, and then slacked off, not wanting to 
cum too soon. Then Smoothy took his shot at her, banging her 
so hard she'd skid across the desktop, which was now puddled 
with her juices. I could see Terry intently watching her 
boyfriend fuck my wife. She seemed to enjoy the sight, as 
she reached her hand down and began playing with herself, 
first rubbing her mound through her panties, and then 
reaching inside to play with her twat. Soon she'd kicked her 
panties to the floor, and she openly fondled herself, her 
eyes glued to the fucking couple. Shy Guy and Punk stood 
mesmerized by the sight, watching in mouth-hanging wonder as 
her fingers disappeared deep inside her cunt. Occasionally 
she would lift her tit to her mouth and tongue the nipple, 
before sticking her fingers back inside.

Finally Smoothy stepped away from my wife, whose exhausted 
legs dangled over the side of the desk. Everyone took a few 
minutes to rest, as Smoothy walked over and gave his 
girlfriend a passionate kiss, while thrusting his hand into 
her sopping cunt.

"I've got an idea," Terry announced, coming up for air after 
an even longer kiss. "If you guys are up to it, that is..."

"OK. Give. Whaddaya got in mind?" Smoothy replied, taking 
his hands from her. 

"You said you gave it to her two at a time. What about three 
at a time?"

Melissa sat up and shot Smoothy a meaningful look. 

"Well," he replied carefully, "We kinda traded the right to 
go backdoor for somethin' else. At least for this week."

"Fool. But listen. I saw somethin' in a book, where she can 
still take three guys at a time. Wanna try it?"

In no time they had Punk stretched out on the mattress, his 
cock sticking up ramrod straight. At Terry's instructions, 
Melissa seated herself on his pole, facing towards his feet. 
Leaning back, her pussy stretched out vertically, giving 
Smoothy just enough room to insert his own cock, sandwiching 
her between two desperately horny men. To complete the 
position, Shy Guy stuck his cock into her mouth, twisting 
her hair in his hands. On the monitor I saw Smoothy set the 
rhythm, his rod slowly stroking in and out of the hole he 
shared with Punk. The whole tableau was somewhat homo-
erotic, what with the sensitive underbelly of Smoothy's cock 
rubbing up against the underside of Punk's cock. And both of 
them encased in the hot, juicy folds of my wife's pussy. 
From their low moans and grunts, the sensations must have 
been intense, though they both seemed quite tentative.

But as I found to be the case with most exotic positions, 
the fantasy and anticipation are usually better than the 
actual deed. The three guys quickly tired of this, Shy Guy 
most of all, as Melissa couldn't keep his huge cock in her 
mouth long enough. So one by one they dropped away, until 
Punk pushed Melissa off him. 

"That wasn't all that great," he complained to Terry.

"Well it looked great on the camera. And guess what? Now 
it's my turn again. Pull up a chair. I'll show you how it's 
done."

"Hey! Wait a min..." 

"Hold on!" Smoothy interrupted, stepping between the two. 
"She's the director, this time. Let's see what she has in 
mind."

What she had in mind was to strip the remainder of the body 
suit off Melissa, running her hands all over my wife's firm 
body. Directing her to lay down on the mattress, Terry 
lowered herself on top of Melissa, her hardened nipples 
first brushing against my wife's taut stomach, and then up 
against her upthrust breasts. Pressing harder, Terry 
captured my wife's lips between her own, searching, probing, 
fencing and sucking, mouth to mouth, skin to skin. Terry 
left wet kisses up and down Melissa's throat, pausing to 
feed on the heat of her veins, nuzzling in the brush of hair 
at the nape of her neck. Her fingers caressed the gentle 
curves of my wife's body, journeying down to her ass and 
back up to her shoulders. For her part, Melissa traced 
figures in the small of Terry's back, occasionally straying 
down to the curve of her butt before skating upwards again. 

Soon, Terry had slithered down my wife's body until her cunt 
was directly above my wife's own. As her fervor increased, 
she began humping against Melissa, grinding her mound into 
my wife's crotch, her tongue frantically lashing her heaving 
tits. Rolling on her side, Terry stuck her hand down between 
my wife's legs, rubbing, pinching and rolling the pouting 
pussy lips. Her frenzy building, she suckled on the nipples 
before her, stuffing as much of the tit in her mouth as 
possible. Melissa simultaneously bucked her hips against the 
vibrating hand, while pressing even more of her breast into 
Terry's eager mouth. 

In response, Terry pulled my wife's legs farther apart, and 
plunged her tongue deep into the core of her, Melissa 
gasping at the sudden invasion. Spreading the cunt lips 
apart, Terry found the pink pearl of my wife's clit, running 
her teeth over it as my wife thrust her hips upward. The 
camera caught every intimate detail, from the fluttering of 
Melissa's pussy cheeks to the slippery teasing of Terry's 
tongue. Terry's fingernails dug crescents into Melissa's 
sensitive skin, her forefingers occasionally dipping deep 
inside the wide open cunt. Melissa was beyond caring who was 
eating her; her body only desired release from the 
unbearable tension. 

Rapidly tumbling to a 69 position, Terry thrust her cunt 
into Melissa's face, expecting a return of her favors. But 
when Melissa shyed away, Terry abruptly stopped, took hold 
of Melissa's hand, and placed it on her ready cunt. "Fine," 
she purred. "You can finger me now. But you will eat me 
later."

Tentatively my wife began running her fingers up and down 
Terry's pussy, who responded by opening her legs wider. Soon 
she was rubbing harder, pressing on the fold of skin just 
above the clit, her fingers moving in a blur of motion. 
Urging my wife farther, she pressed the hand deeper inside 
her, coating the fingers with juice, before having her 
withdraw it and lick the juices off. I could tell Melissa 
was surprised by the taste. Perhaps she thought all women 
tasted the same.

Pushing Melissa away, Terry called to Smoothy and spread her 
legs for him. Immediately he plunged inside her, banging her 
hard, the sound of skin slapping together carrying even into 
my hiding place. With Shy Guy's massive cock rammed between 
her legs, and Punk's cock nestled in her mouth, the others 
also engaged in a fast and furious fuck-fest, bouncing 
Melissa back and forth like a ping-pong ball. A loud groan 
caused everyone to look to Smoothy, who spurted his load 
deep into his girlfriend's cunt, again and again and again. 
With a distrubingly satisfied look, she then pushed Smoothy 
away and sat back on her stool, her legs wide and her pussy 
covered with cum and juice.

"Slave. Come here!" she ordered, causing Shy Guy and Punk to 
break off their attack. "I want you to clean up this cum. 
All of it. Start with his dick," she gestured at Smoothy. 
"And you can finish what's left in my pussy."

I thought Melissa would surely refuse, but Smoothy backed up 
the order by flipping a quarter in the air. The meaning was 
clear: either eat out his girlfriend, or open herself to yet 
another fuck.

"Ok, master," she replied. "But if I make her cum, it counts 
against the total of four you get tonight."

"Done," Smoothy answered, eagerly swinging the camera 
around, while the other two stood stroking their cocks. My 
own cock throbbed in anticipation; I knew I would surely 
shoot off watching my wife's tongue penetrating another 
woman's slit. 

After dutifully tonguing Smoothy's cock clean, Melissa 
approached Terry with some trepidation. She looked up, past 
the swinging breasts, past the grim smile, to meet eyes that 
were both predatory and triumphant. Following Terry's 
explicit instructions, I watched as my wife bent forward and 
licked the glistening pubic hair, brushing it with the tip 
of her tongue and cleaning off the droplets of juice and 
cum. Then, her tongue traced a circle around the outside of 
Terry's slit, leaving a light trail of saliva along the 
stubbly skin. Terry's ass clenched as Melissa sought out her 
anus, her tongue flicking the puckered gray hole, then 
licking the juicy mixture from her deep crack. 

Finally she returned to the waiting hole, raw and red from 
all the exuberant attention. Not pausing for a moment, she 
lightly touched the tip of her tongue to the folds of skin, 
tracing the contours. Her soft tongue pressed down into the 
steamy valley, neither cunt lips nor tongue giving way. 
Finally the lips parted, and Melissa's probing tongue slid 
smoothly between them, til her teeth were pressed into the 
fetid patch, and her lips applied their most intimate kiss. 

At Terry's instructions, she began lapping at the cunt 
before her, at times parting the lips to reveal the pink 
wetness within, at times rolling the lips upward to press 
upon the quivering clit. Putting her hands into play, she 
stretched Terry's cunt lips open wide and found her clit, 
alternately licking and twiddling it. Terry's hips began to 
swivel and shake, and she pulled my wife's head hard against 
her crotch. I could tell that Terry was close to exploding, 
and so was I. 

With a shout, Terry stood up on the rung of the stool and 
thrust her cunt hard against my wife's tongue, which by now 
was directly licking the clit. Just as Terry's body shook 
with the first wave of a heaving orgasm, Melissa thrust her 
hand deep inside, while maintaining her electric contact 
with Terry's engorged clit. And as Terry gave another loud 
yell, my own cock began spurting all over the floor, seeming 
to pull every ounce of energy out of my legs, leaving me 
draped against some boxes. Terry evidently felt the same 
way...even as her body shuddered from the secondary tremors, 
she sagged against Melissa, seemingly held in place only by 
the tongue between her legs. 

Taking a bit of revenge, Melissa continued to lick at 
Terry's cunt, focusing on the sensitive areas that would now 
cause more pain than pleasure. She continued until Terry 
finally had the strength to push her away, and sat primly on 
her heels, an innocent look on her face. 

"Enough of this chick stuff," Punk declared, a fevered look 
in his eyes. "It's my turn to get a little ass. As long as 
that's OK with our 'director', that is?"

Terry ignored his sarcasm. "Now that I got her ready for 
you, you can use my slave to get off. But I think, just to 
make sure she knows who's boss, you should cum all over her. 
And she should rub it all over...so she smells like you when 
she goes home to the husband she's cheating on."

"Whatever," Punk replied. "Just so I get to fuck her now?"

"Go for it, little guy," Terry said, looking down at his 
smallish dick.

Punk didn't waste any time, pushing Melissa flat on the 
mattress and aiming his dick between her legs. He pounded 
into her, his big sack swinging back and forth and slapping 
against her ass. What would have been over in a few strokes 
took far longer; Melissa was just so sopping wet inside it 
was almost impossible for him to get any friction going. 
Finally he had her put her legs down, and thrusting into her 
tightened hole he was soon grunting and ready to cum. 

Surprisingly, his dick stroking straight down into her 
hidden pussy was one of the more erotic images of the whole 
evening. I could already feel a stirring in my groin, and 
Smoothy's spent cock was also lifting to a semi-hard state. 
We all watched as Punk continued to pound his rod deep into 
her, his sack and balls growing tighter by the minute. His 
rhythm slowed, he dropped down on her with all his 
weight...once, twice, again. With a gritted-teeth howl, he 
pulled out and jacked his cock a single time.

Then, his cargo of cum violently spurted out, covering the 
length of my wife, splashing all the way up to her neck. Not 
a single spurt, but a stream, as from a hose, wetting her 
from belly-button to tits. Amazingly, then, another shot 
whooshed out, splashing on her stomach. And a third dropped 
right into her pubes, linked to the tip of his cock by a 
single strand of cum, which refused to drop off, no matter 
how hard he shook it. 

Pooling on her body now, the viscuous milky liquid left 
slimy trails as it sought the valleys and crevices of my 
wife's outstretched body. Punk waited, kneeling between her 
legs, as Melissa brought her hands up and began smearing cum 
all over her front. She covered her tits in it, pushed it 
over her ribcage, across her stomach, around her hips. Her 
skin gleamed with it, as though oiled. It built up between 
her fingers as she massaged it in...she wiped the build-up 
on her inner thighs and smeared it around. With her whole 
front covered in a sheen of cum, she licked her fingers 
clean, and then dutifully sat up and sucked the cum drops 
off Punk's limpening cock, licking his sack as well. 

Shy Guy then stepped up to the mattress, ordering my wife to 
take up a position on her hands and knees. Pushing her head 
down to the sheets, he knelt between her outstretched legs, 
her ass weaving tantalizingly in front of him. His cock by 
now had reached its full length, the engorged head gigantic 
next to her cunt lips. After rubbing the head just inside 
her to lubricate it, he slowly pushed it into her, not 
pausing until his pubic bone met her taut ass cheeks. So 
long was his cock that when he withdrew it for the next 
stroke, no part of his body touched hers. Then he crammed it 
back into her, roughly, pushing her head down into the 
mattress, even though she was braced and straining against 
him. Again and again he pounded into her, more smoothly now 
that his cock was slicked up by her juices. 

The camera showed the view from above and behind, his cock 
seeming to disappear in her crack, the engorged lips of her 
cunt peeking out from time to time. Covered in sweat, the 
frenzy of his fucking increased, spraying beads of salty 
wetness down on her back. Faster and faster he hammered at 
her, his hands yanking her back to him even as he plunged 
forward into her. I stroked at myself as I watched them, 
wanting nothing more than to replace the man now at my 
wife's back door, and pound it home myself. Smoothy also 
watched intently, but from behind Terry, rubbing her tits 
with one hand and her cunt with the other.

Suddenly, Shy Guy pulled out and wrapped both hands around 
his juice-covered dick. Yanking it back and forth, he howled 
out and rocketed a huge load of cum onto my wife's sloped 
back. Three other spurts followed, with Shy Guy aiming the 
last two at her quivering ass. Then using the length of his 
cock as a kind of level, he smeared his cum all across her 
back and buns, making sure to cover her ass thoroughly. As 
tradition dictated, she cleaned his cum-smeared cock with 
her lips and tongue, getting quite a bit on her face in the 
process.

Smoothy didn't even wait for the seed on her back to dry 
before he had flipped her over onto her back. Pushing her 
legs back towards her tits, and spreading her legs open as 
wide as they could go, he reached down and pulled open her 
cunt lips again, exposing not only the pink inner folds, but 
also the black, bottomless cave within. Then, pinning her 
legs back in that position, he plunged his cock down into 
her, to the hilt, straining to get every last millimeter 
between her red, throbbing cunt lips. 

Going at her with force and fury, he took her to the edge of 
exhaustion and beyond. Sweat covered her forehead, dripping 
off into her hair. His own sweat spattered her with every 
thrust, adding itself to the juice freely flowing from her 
cunt hole. On and on he thrust, his stamina apparently 
enhanced after having cum in Terry's wet cunt. She watched 
intently from her chair, openly masturbating, frigging her 
pussy as if possessed. Punk sat on the floor, spent, while 
Shy Guy swiveled the camera around, trying to find the most 
explicit shots. In the Producer's Room, I pounded at myself 
until dizzy, feeling my balls beginning to tighten as my 
body prepared to rid itself of some more protein. 

Tears streamed down Melissa's face, her body on the edge 
between intense pain and pleasure. Seeing this, Smoothy 
grinned and pounded at her harder, enjoying not only the 
power of his cock, but also the power from her 
vulnerability. In his face I saw all the emotions I'd held 
against her since finding out about her infidelity. The 
emotional charge sent me over the edge; I came violently, 
the cum squirting out as through shot from a water cannon. 
With it went all my distrust and frustration and hurt and 
vengefulness. I felt drained. Calm. And loving again.

Melissa's ordeal wasn't quite over, yet. For another minute 
Smoothy pounded into my wife, her pussy now open so wide, 
and his cock now so wet, it seemed they would never create 
enough friction to bring him off. But after one particularly 
hard thrust, he released her legs, pulled his cock out, and 
crawled up her body, until his cock was poised over her face 
like a pistol. In alarm, she closed her eyes, just before 
the first shot hit her full in the face, the cum hitting the 
bridge of her nose, before streaming into her eyes, over her 
cheeks, and across her lips. He aimed another shot right at 
her lips, and on impact it seemed as though cum was foaming 
out of her mouth. Cruelly, his final shots were aimed into 
her golden hair, the sticky whiteness snarling it. 

I watched as my wife then coated her face with his cum, 
applying it everywhere as if it were a face cream. Smoothy 
even had her cover her ears with it, and the underside of 
her chin, before instructing her to lick his cock and balls 
clean. Then, giving her cunt a paternalistic pat, he finally 
climbed off her. She lay there, sweat-soaked, cum-covered, 
used and abused, before weakly climbing to her feet and 
demanding the blackmail materials. It was then I decided 
that I would be home late that evening, to give her time to 
clean up.

They all watched with hidden smiles as she took the 
pictures, and the negatives, dropped them into a wastebasket 
and set them on fire. When nothing was left but ashes and 
balls of burnt plastic, she turned to them and ordered 
vehemently, "That's it! That's all! Get dressed and get the 
fuck out of my studio. If I ever see any of you again, I'll 
rip your fuckin' faces off!"

With a confident smile, Smoothy marched into the control 
room and gathered up all the tapes, including the one I 
hadn't been able to erase.

"I don't think that's it, Liss," he declared. "In fact, I 
think it's just the beginning. We're changin' the rules. We 
got about twenty tapes here. Now we want a night just like 
this one for every one of these tapes. Or we go public with 
these!"

"You asshole. You really think I'd let you tape all this 
shit? You think I'm stupid? First, I switched the line 
cables on the deck. All you got is twenty tapes full of 
snow. Check it out, ditwads."

They waited while Shy Guy rushed to the booth to run the 
tape. Sure enough, nothing but snow. And I'd taken all those 
chances trying to de-gauss those tapes!

"Second of all, and I hope you're all hearing this 
perfectly, I'm gonna go to the cops and tell them you 
drugged me and raped me. That's right! Drugged and raped. 
Knowing you scumwads, you probably kept some pictures to 
yourself. Fine! Anyone sees those, you're going to jail. My 
word against yours. And who's going to believe your story? 
Who's going to believe I let you do that to me? No one, 
that's who! So that's drugging, rape, sexual abuse, probably 
kidnapping, and I'm sure a few other charges I haven't 
thought of. You're all eighteen. That's a lot of jail time. 
So don't let any word of this get out."

She looked at their shocked faces while gathering up her 
clothes. "Now get the fuck outta here. I got a husband to 
get home to!"

And, cliche though it may be, that's about when I decided to 
work at our marriage a little more. To make it a little more 
interesting. Not that I could top the sexual excitement of 
the last few weeks. Or maybe I could. At least it'd be fun 
trying. 

                                                 THE END