Bad Husband

I grab my shirt from a deck chair, and the three men trail Becky and me into the family room that faces the pool. I take drink orders and go to the bar. Becky excuses herself, disappears for a minute, and comes back wearing a white terrycloth bathrobe.

She tells me about her friends. Richard will be going to Columbia Law this fall. Steve is interning for the New York Times. And Tom's big break in theater was "The Boxing Ring." He's already got a part in another play, a few commercials too, and things are looking up for him.

"So," I say, "you're all Becky's ex-boyfriends?"

"Not me," Tom says. "I've been going with the same girl since high school. We're getting married in September."

"And she doesn't mind, you know . . ."

"Well," Tom says, "she likes it better when we do it together, like swinging with other couples. But she understands if it doesn't always work out that way."

"Iwas," Steve says, "but that was before I figured out that I like men better. I mean, I stilllikewomen, I'm sort of bi leaning towards men, and Becky's special, I'll always love her as a friend . . ."

"And you?" I say to Richard.

"Man, if you ever drop dead, and she'll have me, I'm there," he says.

"But Richard understands and accepts my choice," Becky says. I wonder if that's true.

The conversation drifts aimlessly among movies, plays, and novels. Becky snuggles closer to me on the sofa we're sharing. The sun's slanting into the room; shadows are getting long. We're all a little tipsy, and it's starting to occur to me that no one is likely to go back to New York today, and we'd better start thinking about dinner. Conversation is flagging, Becky's fingers are trailing up and down my thighs, and my cock is making an embarrassing bulge in my shorts.

She leans in close and whispers, "Property of Dave." She stands up and slips off the robe; she's naked beneath. She kneels between my legs, wrenches my shorts and briefs off, and goes down on me.

I can't believe she's doing this in front of three men, and it's just as surprising that I like her doing it. I watch Becky's beautiful lips around my cock, feel her tongue caressing me, and enjoy the thought that her three friends can see it too.

She comes to me and kisses me, I love kissing her after she's sucked me, our kiss is passionate and hot, and I'm starting to forget there are other people in the room.

But I feel my cock bathed again in warmth and wetness, and it can't be Becky's doing. I break away from our kiss and look: it's Steve, sucking my cock, and my brain has only a second to register the shock of it before Becky's turning my face towards her, whispering "Don't think, just feel," and kissing me again.

And, oh, kissing Becky while Steve blows medoesfeel good! I still have in my mind the image of Steve's lips around my cock, and I've got to admit Ilikethat image, his face is pretty in its own way. I close my eyes and enjoy the double stimulation.

When I open them again a minute later, Becky's shifted so she on her knees beside me, and Richard's face is planted in her ass. Tom's naked again, looking on, stroking his cock. Shit, I can deal with Tom and Steve, but I know that Richard wants Becky for himself, and I don't like what he's doing. But if I try to stop it, the rest of it will stop too, and I don't want that. I'm swimming in sensation, and I'm just going to have to deal with Richard rimming my wife.

Tom stands up slowly, gracefully. I turn away from Becky's kiss to watch. He's got a fine, strong body, lithe and tan, muscular but not bulgy. Every man has seen other men naked, but a man looks different when you're aroused. I can't help staring at Tom's thick, hard cock, his fingers curved around it.

He's moving towards us, he moves like a dancer, it's hypnotic. Becky puts a finger on my lips and whispers, "Youdowant it, don't you?Pleasesay you do."

Her words tip me from admiration to desire. Tom climbs onto the sofa, his cock, heavy and veined, is level with my face. He pulls back his foreskin, revealing the glans, pink and damp; a little slippery drop leaks from the slit, and I groan with longing for it. Becky takes Tom's cock in her hand and guides it towards me. I open my mouth and let that cock slide into me, close my lips, tongue and palate tight around it. I can't believe how good it feels, warm and alive, soft-skinned yet hard beneath, swollen with desire. Becky leaves me to Tom's cock, leans back on the sofa, resting a hand on my thigh, and lets Richard enter her. And, oh fuck, how can I complain, when Steve's mouth on my cock and Tom's cock in my mouth are so heavenly?

I reach up and put a hand on one of Tom's firm buttocks. I pull him towards me, urging him to go a little deeper. He starts to thrust, fucks my mouth, gently at first, then with growing urgency, and I whine a little around his cock, wanting him to know it's all right to come, yes, I want him to come inside me, and he takes my head in his hands and, gasping, floods my mouth with his warm cum, fills me up so I can hardly hold it all in. I keep my hand on his ass so he knows not to pull all the way out, I swallow his cum with the tip of his cock still in my mouth. The taste isn't wonderful, but it's not horrible; it's the thought that I've just swallowed a man's cum that's so exciting.

Tom climbs down from the sofa, sinks into a leather chair, and watches us. I look at Becky and Richard, right next to me, just in time to see her touch his cheek and say, softly, "Your turn." He pulls out of her, she scooches over, and and he flops onto the sofa between us, looking at me with an enigmatic smile and holding his cock in his hand.

Becky says, "Suck Richard's cock, Dave—do it for me." But I want to do it for myself, too—his cock is long, smooth, and golden, and Tom's whetted my appetite for cocksucking. I kneel between Richard's legs, put my hands on his thighs, and go down on him. I like this position, it makes me feel naughty and submissive, Richard's cock tastes like Becky's pussy, and I take it as deep as I can without gagging. My mouth fills with saliva and I drool a little, wondering how much practice it would take to learn to deep throat as well as Becky does it. I take my mouth off Richard's cock and lick his balls. They're soft and floppy in the summer heat, and I pull them into my mouth. He slaps my face softly with his cock while I suck his balls.

Becky reaches under Richard's thigh and lifts; he takes the cue and draws both legs up. She says, "Richard has a nice ass, Dave. I want you to lick it."

I love rimming Becky, but Richard's ass is hairy and masculine, it's a little shocking, but clean and healthy, and now that he's gone to the trouble of pulling his legs up it would be awkward not to give him a rimming, so I lean in and give his asshole a tentative lick. No bad taste or horrible odor, just a little sweat. I close my mouth over it and wet it with my tongue, give it the kind of passionate kiss I give to Becky's ass. He sighs, and Becky pets my back and says, "Oh, yeah, honey, that's so hot." I wet his whole crack with my saliva, then stab my tongue into him, making him squirm.

Back to sucking Richard's cock, I fuck him with my mouth as hard and tight as I can. I can sense his arousal, feel him thrust into me, hear him moan. I put my hands on his pelvis so I can feel his thrusts, sense his excitement under my fingers, and finally he pumps a huge load into my mouth with great groans and spasms, and again I swallow, holding his cock in my mouth.

Steve's been sitting on the floor nearby, watching. Becky leans forward, kisses me, and whispers, "Property of Becky. Trust me?"

"I trust you," I say, truthfully.

"Steve," she says, "would you like to kiss Dave?"

He looks up at me, eyes soft with longing. "Yeah," he says. "If it's all right with you, Mr. Allen."

"I think we're well enough acquainted that you can call me Dave," I say. "And a kiss seems a small thing after all that oral sex."

We stand up. He's shorter than I am. He comes to me, puts his arms around me, presses his naked body against mine. His hard cock is prodding my thigh. He raises his face to me and I kiss him.

But no, a kiss isnota small thing. Steve is slim and pretty, but even so I'm intensely aware that he's a man, and kissing a man this way, long and tenderly, is appalling. You can fuck anything with your dick, a sheep, a whore, and keep it impersonal, but a kiss is for a lover, andthisis a man, and every bit of me wants to pull away from him.

Until I don't. Steve's passionate, he smells good, like sweat and a bit of armpit and the grass he's been mowing and a distant memory of some cologne he put on this morning. I wrap my arms around him and thrust my tongue into his mouth, and he does the same to me. He knows how to kiss. My cock's standing up, slippery between us.

Becky says, "Steve, you're versatile, right?"

Steve breathes, "Yeah" into my mouth.

"You got a condom?" she asks.

"Pants pocket," he murmurs, and returns to our kiss.

She goes over to where he left a pile of clothes on a chair, fishes in his pockets, and comes back with a foil packet. "Lubricated," she says. "Good." She lays the packet on a side table and goes to sit near Richard and Tom. I wonder what she feels, watching us.

It's been such a day of new experiences—why not one more? "Fuck me," I say, and Steve answers by squeezing my buttocks hard.

"Best if you kneel," he says. I kneel on the floor and rest my elbows on the sofa. He says, "It'll hurt less if you can relax." I hear the crinkle of the condom packet. A few seconds later he kisses my anus, just once, and says, "Nice ass." The cool tip of the condom touches my asshole for a moment, and then comes the pressure as Steve's cock slowly, slowly pushes into me, the pain building, this is bigger than the doctor's damned finger. I clench my teeth, I don't want to cry out, but this fuckinghurts. . . and then he's in, and there's still a little pain, but his cock is delicious in my ass, and I lay my head down in my arms and just enjoy this new kind of pleasure. I want it to go on and on—the thrusts, the feeling stretched, Steve's hands on my ass, his moans.

His breath gets ragged as we go on, instinct taking over his movements, he's thrusting harder, it's more pain and more pleasure. "Oh God!" I cry as his cock plunges deep into me, pounding my ass like a hammer, relentless, till he moans, "Ah!" loud and long, and comes.

Steve pulls out of me slowly—I love the feel of my sphincter expelling the last inch of him. I collapse onto the sofa, exhausted. Becky comes to me with a wad of tissues. She lifts me up and kisses me. She turns to the others and says, "We have enough beds for everybody, if you want to stay. We can send out for some Chinese."

They look at each other, conferring silently. Tom says, "I guess we'd better get back to the city. We've sobered up enough to drive."

We all dress quickly. We stand around for a moment. How do you say goodbye to near strangers who've just left their semen in your body?

Becky hugs and kisses them. Steve comes to me and kisses me, a long kiss with tongue. His hands slide into my back pockets and he squeezes my ass. Tom and Richard hold out their hands, and I shake them. Then, impulsively, I hug them.

Becky and I heat up leftovers for ourselves and pour some wine. We sit at the kitchen counter, eat, and say little.

When we've finished eating and we're sipping the last of our wine, I say, "How much of that was planned?"

She smiles and says, "Pretty much all of it."

"Down to the last detail, like a play?"

"There was some improvisation. I wasn't sure who was going to get buttfucked at the end—though I had my guess."

"But the fake gang rape, the way you interrupted it, the way you got me to suck off Tom and Richard, the rimming, the sex with Steve . . ."

"Yeah," she says. "All planned."

"And it was all about punishing me for being jealous?"

"That's how it started, but then I wanted to find out if I could make you do something you'd never done before, you know, give blowjobs and rimjobs. And then it came out that all my friends thought you were hot and wanted you to play with us, the same way I did. So the plan got wilder as we went on."

I say, "I guess I have to admit I enjoyed getting to know your friends."

She smiles and says, "I thought you might. And I've got lots of friends I'd like you to meet. Men and women."

I say, "Maybe meeting them would help me with my jealousy problem."

I'm getting excited thinking about it. I slide off my chair and kneel in front of Becky, who turns to me. I open her robe and she spreads her legs. I part her labia with my fingers and lick her clit tenderly. Her smell and taste are ripe: her pussy's taken a lot of fucking today, and somehow that makes going down on her more exciting. Soon she's slick and open, a glorious pool of hot cunt, and I'm bathing my face in her.

She pushes me to the floor and gets on top of me, pussy and ass above my face as she sucks my cock. I put my arms around her waist and pull her to me, urging her to put her weight on me. I want to suffocate in her slit.

We fuck on the kitchen floor, and I'm overwhelmed by emotion—it feels like falling in love for the first time. She's riding me as we both come, and she slides up my body, making a lovely mess on my stomach.

We join hands and walk together to our bedroom. We fill our big tub and soak together.

"Property of Becky," I say.

"Property of Dave," she says.

I think I'll get a tattoo, exactly where she has hers, but on the right. I'll surprise her with it next week.

Becky slips into a nightie and crawls into bed. I'll join her in a minute, but first I run to the kitchen, pick up our abandoned clothing, and carry it to the laundry room. I fish in a back pocket of my shorts and pull out the card Steve left there. It has his home and cell numbers on it.

I've got to go to the city next week to meet with my editor.

I can still be Becky's property, can't I, if I give Steve a call?

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