Four Wives Club

“Alllll right!” Jeanne said as she finished serving the goodies. “Who’s going to start?”

Rita was the first to raise her hand like a child and say, “Me! Me! Me!”

The others looked at her, frowned in mock disappointment, and consented to let the sexy Latina go first. While they all watched as if she were going to reveal something crucial to all their lives, she pulled her package up on her lap and smiled at them all before beginning to part the packaging it had been sent to her in.

Rita was voluptuous, petite in height, but just a little overweight, and with an hourglass for a body. Part of her weight was excusable for it was due to her enormous breasts, far too big for her frame. “Haven’t met a man who complained yet,” She would observe if anyone had ever said anything about them. Her hair was nearly deep red, with a shade of brown tinting it. It was long and wavy, not helping her much in the proportion department. It seemed to compete with her breasts to overwhelm her.

She finally slipped the last of the wrapping off and produced a vacuum packed, gelled dildo of substantial proportions, nearly nine inches long and an inch and a half in diameter. Holding it up with a bright smile, she showed it to the others.

“Ouuuuu,” Gina said, “So big! If only one of our men were that big!” They all giggled.

Ellen said, “Are you kidding, Rita? How the hell are you going to get that into your pussy?” She was awestruck that the smallest of them all, was going to have the gardener shove that huge instrument into her.

Jeanne echoed the consternation saying, “No way! You little thing you! You have to be kidding!”

Rita looked around the room at her three best friends in the world and showed them all a devious grin. She had a surprise for them now, “It’s not for my pussy, ladies.”

They all sat up straight and gasped in disbelief.

“In Jerry’s, ass?” Jeanne asked first.

Rita chuckled and said simply, “No.”

Gina gasped, “You’re kidding! Are you going to suck on that thing while he is fucking you?”

Rita repeated, “No.”

All three of them were puzzled for a moment, and then all of them dropped their jaws at once. Rita saved them the energy of having to guess the only possible alternatie and said, “I have always wanted to get fucked by two men at once! I figure this will be the next best thing!” She waited for her friends to approve.

They all laughed, shouted and “ouu’d” and “ahh’d” their comments. Jeanne summed them up pretty clearly, “I love it! OH! YES!”

They all offered their congratulations on Rita’s choice and each had to feel the dildo. They’d agreed at the outset to share and share alike, possibly even sharing fantasies and toys at a later time. And now they were all agreeing they’d fantasized about being taken by two men at once. Jeanne admitted she’d be even happier with another guy in her mouth too!

Once they’d calmed down, Jeanne asked, “Ok, who’s next?”

Gina was too hot from her thoughts to miss this opportunity and was first to put her hand up and say, “Me!”

They all agreed and she pulled her package up onto her lap. All the packages were shaped pretty similarly, except Jeanne’s. Hers was more than four feet long, and with a cross section about ten inches by five inches. One of the ladies had remarked as they were coming into the house that if that was a dildo inside, they were all going to run away!

Gina slipped her item out of the packaging and threw the material on the floor. She held up the clear plastic, vacuum packed device and all could see clearly it was an eighteen inch double dong, about the same diameter as Rita’s dildo. She pulled the latex snake from its card and held it by one end while waving the other back and forth over the top.

The ladies laughed at the delightful device and began to guess as to how Gina would use it. She was the tallest of them all, with short blond hair and small breasts and a rather slim body, and the long dong looked proportionate in her hands. But when Rita said, “Oh wow! You too?”

Gina smiled and said, “In a way. I have always had this vision of me scissoring up with a guy, his, uh, cock in my ass, and his dong in my pussy.”

Ellen looked at her puzzled. “His dong? I don’t get it. He fucks you with that?”

The other three girls laughed at Ellen’s naiveté and Jeanne said, “Oh my! You mean to put one end in your pussy and the other in his ass?”

The other ladies were awestruck at the imagery passing through their minds. Gina said, “Yup. We actually fuck each other!”

Ellen was the first to comment now, “Oh YES! I never thought of that! You fuck the man! Oh my! That is so fitting! They deserved to get fucked! Just ask any of them! God Gina, I hope you make it hurt! Bad!”

They had to put a hand or two on Ellen to calm her down! She was getting all excited with the idea of retribution. She’d had a bit of a rough time with her husband, a larger man who didn’t seem to realize he could hurt his wife easily. She lowered her eyes in blush when she realized how loud she’d been cheering the revenge Gina might get.

Ellen didn’t wait to be picked to open her package next. She eagerly pulled her package, slightly larger than the first two, up on her lap, and ripped the paper off and held up a strap on dildo. Her grin as she slowly waved it in front of the other women was one of determination. Of the four of them, she was the least open and capable of carrying out their mutual fantasies. Ellen had been a prude all her life, and only began to realize there was more to life in bed than she’d had, when she started these meetings with her friends. Now she was determined to join them and as is often the case, she usually over compensated. When after three weekly visits from Jerry, she finally consented to have sex with him, she’d not only let him penetrate her, but she had jumped all over him. She’d been an animal, and if anyone of the four had come close to turning the gardener from a lump to a real hump, it had been her overly aggressive actions. But the others didn’t know about most of this, for she still had not broken through that inhibition, totally, and intimately sharing her sexual experiences with her friends.

On this day however, she was trying. She flashed the strap on, its waist and crotch straps dangling from the triangular base, its proud and lengthy prick standing tall and pointing to the ceiling.

Jeanne was the first to respond with something intelligible. They had all simply moaned in a combination of delight and surprise at the first sight of the thing. “Ellen! You are too much! My God!”

Rita said, “Ouuuuuuuuuuuuuu… I want to borrow that! Hey! Maybe we should all trade our toys from week to week. That way we can all experience everything!” There were nods around the room, emitted from broad smiles in each.

Gina said, “Hollllly shit! Ellen! You scoundrel, you! Now just how the hell are you going to use that thing? When Jerry comes to my place, he already has one of those!”

The three women laughed aloud but this did not sway Ellen from her determined expression. “You’ve all complained about Jerry’s lack of, uh, enthusiasm. I’m going to light a fire in his butt!”

The somewhat bold yet awkward way she stated her intentions, coupled with her image of being the prude in the group, drove the other three women to a unanimous “Whoaaaaaa!” They laughed and all began to shout their cheers and encouragement simultaneously, though none of them believed she’d be able to get the lump of meat they knew as Jerry to let her touch him with that massive plastic prick.

When the laughter and encouraging cat calls waned, eyes began to search out the remaining participant, Jeanne, to demand she open her larger package.

“Are you ready for this?” Jeanne asked as she stood and placed the large box on the coffee table. They got the impression she was asking the question more of herself, than of the others, as the usually confident woman was suddenly exhibiting signs of self-doubt. The room went silent as she began to peel away the shipping paper to reveal the plain, cardboard box within.

All three women were on the edge of their seats, trying to peer inside the box when Jeanne reached inside, hesitated while she looked all around her friends, then pulled out a long piece of wood, like a broom stick, with what appeared to be a track running its full length and a couple foot long Velcro strips hanging off of each of two cars on that track. No one knew at first what it was, and Jeanne, unable to speak, thinking they might not approve of her own fantasy, finally mustered the nerve to spread her knees and hold the bar across them.

All three at once gasped, “OH!”

Jeanne froze, wondering if she’d gone too far. She was the one, after all, who’d been the driving force in their little sex club, the person who kept breaking the ice with new ideas and bolder and bolder plans. And though Ellen was suddenly showing some signs of truly “coming out” of her lifelong shell, they all still relied on Jeanne to show them the way. And now she wondered if she’d gone too far.

Rita stood up and walked over to take the device from Jeanne. She held it up close to her face so she could read some writing on it, “Spreader Bar – 36 inches.” She read the script out loud, and continued, “Caution – Do not leave user unattended.” Rita looked at the rest of the women, all frozen in awe of what they were seeing for the first time, and said, “If it were my partner with this thing between their knees, there’s NO WAY I’d be leaving him unattended!” She laughed heartily at the comment and the rest of the women joined in heartily. Perhaps the happiest of all was Jeanne, sighing with relief and ecstatic that the group approved.

Goodman Enterprise, Three PM, Friday

Roger’s lower jaw finally rose to its mate and gave him a chance to wet his very dry mouth. He’d completely forgotten all his bodily functions as he watched his computer monitor and listened through his headset. The office door had been closed since just before one, and he’d left instructions with his secretary not to be disturbed, a request she’d never heard before. She’d also never seen the door closed before except perhaps in the case of an interview.

Thursday morning, he’d gone to Radio Shack and purchased a few items. It had been a long time since he’d actually had his fingers in the guts of a computer, but he quickly recalled his techniques and immensely enjoyed the act of his preparations to execute his plan. Then he’d gone home, in the middle of the day no less, and waited until Jeanne left in her Audi to have her hair done and get the groceries for the weekend. It was an old habit and she’d never lost it.

Roger was quick to mount the mini-camera in the fixture on the ceiling of their living room and connect it to his DSL line. His wife would never know it was on, for the simple reason she never used the DSL line. He’d reserved that for his office use. And now, since the meeting had begun at one pm, he’d been totally enthralled.

Roger watched as the women finished their discussions with confirmations of times and days for their next trysts, and lots of encouragement and jokes about each other’s choice of “tools” for their next stretch of the envelope. While he watched, he couldn’t help but fantasize about being in the room when his wife got spreader bared and laid by the gardener. But to his stirring amazement, the fantasies came with the other women too!

He listened on until they all left, and watched his silent wife return to the living room and clean up after their little party. He could hardly believe he was spying on her, and yet his hard on wasn’t going down with the cessation of chatter and show and tell. Jeanne had somehow taken on an entirely new aura about her, one of hidden, pent up sexual desire. Underneath that very familiar wifely figure, was a horny, sensual tigress plotting and planning her affair with a kid, fifteen years her junior. On next Thursday, if he didn’t do something to stop it, his wife Jeanne would be strapped to the spreader bar, tied, gagged, and fucked by the gardener until she was satiated. He had to do something!

The big question was what? Should he go right home and confront her? Sue for divorce? Go after the gardener? While the bile in his stomach boiled in anger, he reflected suddenly on how patient she’d been with his incessant business attention. Hell, he thought, he hadn’t gotten any shit from her in a long time!

So he would just get her to stop this madness with the gardener? And he knew not how long this was going on, or if it was with other men too, because he’d not been around to fulfill his half of the bargain. He began to think about all the times he’d been home at night with much more than enough time to eat dinner, which she’d always had ready for him. There were damn few occasions. In fact, the only one he could think of was one night he’d had to change for a client dinner they were both invited to, hardly a time to make love to his wife.

The more he thought about it, the more he blamed himself for what was happening. He felt like a heel, at least until the vision of the gardener laying atop his wife reappeared in his mind. Damnit! There had to be a right way to deal with this.

Roger Goodman was up against one of the toughest problems he’d ever faced, if not the toughest. He’d think about it in favor of her, and then toss the whole thing out and swing back to his own benefit. This went on for sometime before he realized he was sitting there with a hard on, still.

With a look around first to see if he was alone, which he obviously was, in his closed door office, he zipped down his fly and reached in under his jockey’s to pull out his stiff prick. It felt good to suddenly have it out, and to have it hard in his hand. There was a bit of a naughty feeling washing over him, knowing he was doing something he shouldn’t be doing. He looked at the window, as if to make sure no one was looking in, difficult as it would be to do on the second floor, and realized it was dark already.

Again! He’d stayed at the office so late his wife would be alone once more. Through no fault of her own, he would be late, denying her his body and companionship, and thinking no doubt about her turn with the gardener next week. He raced out of the vacant building, zipping his fly on the run, and dashed through the parking lot to his car. On the way home, the analysis continued.

When he stepped into the house, he didn’t smell dinner. For the first time, Jeanne had revolted and simply said from the living room where she was watching tv, “Make yourself a sandwich dear, the maid quit early tonight.”

The humor was lost on Roger. Now he was pissed. This whole situation, which he didn’t even know existed before two days ago, was suddenly spinning out of control. He stomped into the kitchen, slapped a couple pieces of salami on some bread with a bit of mustard, and retired to his home office. He had to deal with this now, before their lives turned to shit.

68 Seaward Lane, living room, Six AM, Saturday

“You’re not going into the office again honey.” Jeanne said through a half sleep.

“No honey, I am not. At least not right now. I’m going out for some breakfast. I do have a few things to wrap up in paperwork on the new company, Jack Robinson actually wants to continue to run the show for awhile after all, and then I have a few errands to run. But tonight, for the first time in a long while, I am going to be home.” He was speaking as if he deserved some reward for this major concession.

“Oh, that’s too bad dear,” She said, still half asleep. “I have a date tonight with Gina. We’re going to the movies. Something you wouldn’t want to see anyway.” She rolled over, away from him.

That was it. The data he needed for a decision was in hand. He wasn’t taking another word or act into consideration. The gathering process ended on a bad note for Jeanne. Now he would make his decision. But first, he would leave the house, and go have a solid breakfast at the diner.

Main Street and Elm, Six-Thirty AM, Saturday

Roger propped his head in his hands, not bothering to look at the menu. He was sitting uncharacteristically at the counter, rather than a table where he would be attended to in the manor he had become accustomed. Instead, there was a familiar sensation going through his body, prompting him to form some kind of organization around his domestic problem, and a source of ideas to sort through and choose what made the most sense as a solution.

“Coffee?” The older woman in the white apron asked, standing behind the counter with a Pyrex pot in her hand, cocked and ready to pour.

“Huh? Oh, yes. Thanks.” Roger answered from a different place.

The waitress poured a full cup for him and smiled at the familiar look. Here was a man with a problem, and no idea how to solve it, she thought. “Trouble?” She turned and put the pot back on the burner and turned as if to collect an order from the guy.

Roger answered without thinking, “What? Yes. A problem. Four of them actually, but one of them is mine.” He picked up the cup and sipped the hot, black brew.

“Four of them? That IS a problem,” The waitress said, leaning a hip against the counter as if settling in for the long haul. “Better take ‘em on one at a time…..”

The waitress kept on talking, but Roger had heard what he needed to hear. “Take ‘em on one at a time.” The jolt of lightening through his body nearly caused him to jump from his seat. “That’s it!” He shouted in his mind. “Take them on, one at a time!” He looked up at the waitress and said, “Thank you! You are brilliant!” He was so excited he ordered a hearty breakfast and tipped the waitress the entire amount of the bill.

When she realized what he’d done, she clicked her tongue against her teeth and stuffed the extra cash in her apron pocket with a smile.

444 Walton Avenue, 7:30 AM, Saturday

Roger had used his PDA to check his online banking account to find out where his wife, had sent the gardener his check each month. The kid probably used his home as his office, Roger presumed, and he needed to find the son-of-a-bitch. His only concern now, as he walked up the outside stairway to the row of apartments on the second floor, was whether the young entrepreneur had already left for his busy Saturday jobs.

“Can I help you?” The voice was young and sweet, a girl probably half his age. Could this be the gardener’s wife?

Roger decided to find out, “Hi, excuse me, but is your husband home?”

He was right, for she shouted back into the house, “Jerry? Someone here to see you.” The woman was smart enough to not yet let the stranger in, and wise enough to not show her agitation to her husband for telling his clients where he lived.

“Yeah?” He was wearing ratty jeans and tucking in his clean, white T-shirt. He didn’t recognize his client, which was understandable. He hardly ever saw the male side of his clients’ families. It was always the wife and the kids.

“Jerry, I’m Roger Goodman.” He noted the instant shock on the boy’s face. “Could I speak with you for a moment?”

The boy looked back into the apartment to see if his wife was watching. She was not. This visit could only be bad. He knew he should have resisted the extra money and the older women in that crazy neighborhood scheme. Now it was going to hurt him badly. He looked back at Roger and said, “Uh, yeah. Uh, let’s go outside, ok?” He was pleading.

Roger thought this was good. The kid had a weakness, the same weakness any husband had when he was on the verge of being exposed for his sins. Though he couldn’t see what the cute young wife of this philanderer saw in him sexually, for he was a noodle in bed, at lest with Jeanne. Roger assumed the guy was a hard working entrepreneur and bringing home the bacon – admittedly a point in the kid’s favor. Roger was too smart to let his emotions hold him for long, and too familiar with his wife to think it was the kid who’d started all this. He decided to cut the kid some slack, but not to tell him just yet.