Surprise!

"Well, maybe," he says, leaning back in his chair contentedly. "It could happen."

"You think there might really be a chance?" I ask eagerly.

"Let me think about it," he says. He makes me wait a few seconds for his answer, even though I'm sure he's already made up his mind.

Pulling a card from his wallet, he hands it to me and finally says, "Tell you what, I have a boring-but-necessary meeting I have to go to, but it shouldn't last more than an hour and a half. Why don't you come to my place at four and we'll have a drink and watch the tape."

Looking at the card, I see it's printed with an address on Park Ave—probably an apartment building across from Central Park.

After a brief glance at his watch, Harry stands. "It's two o'clock, I better get going."

I rise from my seat and we shake hands like two conspirators—which I suppose we are. "I'll be there," I promise.

Still holding my hand, he leans forward and says, "You'll love it." He releases my hand and I watch as he crosses the lobby to the front entrance, stopping to give me a friendly wave before he goes through the revolving door.

Exhausted, I slump down into my chair and take a deep breath. Who'd have thought lying and pretending to be someone your not could be so tiring. Eventually, I work up enough strength to go back to my room and take a nap.

An hour later, showered and dressed, I pull my suitcase out of the closet and set it on the table near the window. I'm an engineer specializing in security gadgets, remember? I never leave home without some kind of electronic gizmo—and this trip is no exception. After all, you never know when you're going to need a surveillance tool.

From a small leather pouch I retrieve from my suitcase, I select what looks like a fountain pen, but is actually a tiny camera and transmitter. Since this isn't the first time I've used this pen-cam, I ignore the nstructions lying in the pouch. Simply turning the head of the pen activates the camera, which will transmit to a receiver that can be hooked up to any VCR.

Once I've set up the hotel room's VCR to interface and record the pen-cam's transmission, I grab a blazer from the closet and attach the pen to the outside breast pocket, so the tiny camera lens in the clip is facing out.

Everything ready, I sit down and wait with anticipation. I'm not sure if the distance between my hotel room and Harry's apartment is greater than the pen-cam's range—but we'll soon find out.

PART FOUR

As you might expect, I arrive at Harry's apartment fifteen minutes early. When there's no response to my knock, I'm completely disheartened. What if he changed his mind? Then, I'll never know if it's Sarah on the tape. But maybe that would be for the best—ignorance is bliss, and all that.

I'm just about ready to walk away, when I hear a click and the door opens. Harry stands in the doorway dressed to the nines in a suit and tie.

"Come in, come in," he says. "I just got back. You're a little early."

"I guess I'm a little anxious," I reply. Man, that's the understatement of the year.

He leads me into a living room that's not that much different from ours back home. However, the TV is huge and it and the VCR are arranged differently in front of the sitting area. It occurs to me that one seat has a clearer view of the TV than the other one near the window. Somehow, I'm going to have to make sure I get the better seat or the pen-cam will be useless.

"Why don't you have a seat there," Harry says, thankfully pointing to the right chair. "I'll mix us a couple of drinks and we'll start the tape."

He goes into the kitchen and I hear the clinking of ice against glass.

"Let's see, I've got bourbon, vodka, gin, and brandy. What'll it be?"

"How about bourbon," I say.

"Done. Ice?"

"Sure."

He comes back a few minutes later and hands me my bourbon on the rocks, saluting me with what looks to be a gin and tonic.

"To Sarah," I say, saluting him back.

"To movies," he says before taking a sip of his drink. After a healthy gulp of my own drink,

I ask, "So, who made this video?"

"I did," he says, smugly. "I produced it, directed it, cast it, and stared in it." He presses two buttons on the remote on the coffee table and the giant TV and the VCR turned on. He moves to the entertainment unit, picks up a videocassette I hadn't noticed, and inserts it in the VCR.

"I had a camera mounted behind the air conditioning vent and had several mikes scattered throughout the suite," he explains, walking back to his seat. "I turned them on just before she knocked on the door."

Sitting in his seat, Harry picks up the remote and presses play. "The quality is amazing."

On the big TV screen, I see Harry sitting on a bed in a cheap hotel room—a really trashy one, as a matter of fact. Slyly, I turn the head of my pen-cam and make sure I'm angled just right.

Whenever this was taped, Harry was dressed very differently than he is today. He was wearing an open-collared shirt that showed a gross amount of chest hair, a too-tight pair of casual slacks, and loafers.

With what seemed like impatience, The image of Harry got up off the bed and paced around the room. Finally, there was a knock at the door and harry smiled. The clarity of the sound is amazing. My heart is racing, keeping time with his footsteps as his image walked to the door and opened it.

Sarah walked in with a small smile, her face and neck red. Was she embarrassed? I carefully look at her clothing, her shoes, and immediately recognize the diamond engagement ring and wedding band on her left hand. Dammit, it is Sarah. There is no mistake.

Harry took her into his arms and kissed her. Holding her close to him, he turned and walked her into the room. I can see the huge, unmistakable bulge in his pants.

Sarah's hair fell in front of her eyes, but she made no move to push it aside. While watching the events on the screen, I desperately try to figure out when this could have happened. Harry certainly wasn't over thirty and Sarah was too thin. This had to have happened before she'd had Elena—certainly not after Dustin.

Harry led her to the bed where they kissed deeply while Sarah fondled his erection, which was still in his pants—thankfully.

"I've wanted this all day," Sarah said on the tape.

"Lucky you're husband is putting in all those hours, huh, baby?" So, where the hell was I exactly? School? Work? Was this before or after I'd started the company?

"I have to use the bathroom," she said, getting up from the bed. "I'll just be a minute."

"Sure, baby, right through here," he said, showing her the bathroom door. After she'd closed the door behind her, Harry walked around the room, lewdly laughing to himself as he kicked off his shoes and socks, and slipped off his shirt. He crossed to the bed and lay down on his back, his erection very prominent. Even in his pants it was sticking up and looked huge. Before my eyes it seemed to grow even bigger and I wonder how Sarah could take something that big.

In the bathroom, the mike picked up the sounds of Sarah urinating, flushing the toilet, running water in the sink—even the sound of her drying her hands on a towel. Christ, that was a sensitive mike. All of it doesn't seem possible and I have the sudden urge to stomp across the room and smash the VCR into bits—but I don't. I stay in my seat, mesmerized by the events unfolding on the screen.

I watch as Sarah exited the bathroom and approached the bed. She smiled at Harry—almost insolently—and I wonder if she's about to walk out on him, laughing. She was still fully clothed, but unfortunately that didn't last long.

Harry punched a button on a remote next to the bed and seductive, erotic music filled the room. She began to dance, pulling off her jacket and throwing in onto the back of a chair. Twirling, she peered at him through the dark hair that'd fallen in front of her eyes. God, she is beautiful. I've never seen her so energized . . . so erotic.

I suddenly realize that I am seeing her from every angle, even when she turns. This bastard had more than one camera in that room, and he'd edited too.

Moving her body to the beat of the music, Sarah slowly removed her blouse. That's when I see that she'd been wearing the bra from Nordstrom's I had given her with a matching set of panties. She must have been wearing the whole set—the bitch!

Still on the bed, Harry was smiling and applauding. Sarah bowed to acknowledge his applause and while she was bent forward, she slithered out of she skirt. She was wearing the matching panties and a garter belt that held up a pair of sheer stockings. While she placed her skirt and blouse on the same chair as her jacket, I get a good look at her long legs, which were accentuated by five-inch heels.

I can't tell you how many times I've asked to wear sexy clothing, but she never would—the bitch!

As the music shifted to a faster rhythm, Sarah began to move her ass, stooping and swinging her ass from one side to the other.

Panting, she looked at him through the tendrels of her mussed hair and muttered, "Are you sure you can handle this?"

"Bring it to me, baby," he said. "I'll handle it."

Laughing, she turned and waved her ass in his face. Harry rose from the bed behind her and approached her. Rather obviously, he pressed his erection into her ass and she squirmed against it, throwing him a seductive look over her shoulder. They kissed a hot, smoldering kiss, their tongues battling.

"God," she panted, "that feels huge."

"It's just for you, and you need it, baby," he growls, placing his hands on her breasts. He pushed the bra I'd purchased with hard earnings out of his way and rubbed her breasts, taking her nipples in between his thumbs and forefingers, pulling them lightly. Then he twisted them harder, making her gasp. In her ear, he says, "You need to be fucked like you've never been fucked before."

"Oh, yes," she moaned.

"What woman can be satisfied with a small cock?"

"I don't know," she said, her voice sounding slightly hoarse. She turned around and he didn't waste any time in unsnapping and unfastening her bra. Buying her a front-clasp bra, I'd unknowingly made it easy for him, making me want to scream with fury. When he opens and drops his pants, I see he wasn't wearing any underwear.

He sat her on the bed, so his huge penis was dangling there, right before her eyes. She gasped again and exclaimed, "I don't know if I can take it."

My point exactly!

"Don't worry, baby. Mouths and pussies stretch to accommodate whatever they need to take in. So do anuses."

She looked up at him, obviously startled. "I've never done anal. I'm not going to."

Kneeling at her feet, he reached forward and rubbed the flesh just above her stockings. "Not to worry, baby." He teased the gusset of her panties, which was dark with her wetness. He leaned forward and kissed her pussy through the damp fabric.

I'd never thought to do that, but Sarah seemed to like it.

She watched as he pulled the gusset aside and rammed his tongue into the vaginal opening, causing her to throw her head back in ecstasy.

After a few minutes, he removed his tongue, her juices covering his face. Easily, he pushed a finger into her vagina, sliding it in and out, in and out. Soon, his fingers were dripping wet and he inserted another finger.

I realize he was stretching her for his monster cock.

His two fingers thoroughly juiced, he attacked her clitoris with his tongue.

She arched off the bed, a stream of filthy words I'd never heard her utter now flowing freely from her mouth. I feel disgusted that I'd never made her lose control like that. Suddenly, she had an orgasm and I can see her pussy clamping onto his fingers. She shuddered with pleasure, but he didn't stop his very organized, very intense, systematic assault on her senses.

When Sarah's pussy contracts in orgasm, I've always had to use lube to get back inside her if I wasn't finished, so I'm shocked and bewildered that Harry was able to begin moving his fingers inside her with little or no resistance.

Overwhelmed by a number of sensations and emotions, I suddenly become aware that my cock is as hard as steel in my pants. Noticing my condition, I hear Harry chuckle beside me. My attention is drawn back to the tape when I hear Sarah cry out weakly.

Harry was stilling eating her out, now plunging three fingers in and out of her pussy. A sheen of perspiration covered her entire body, soaking her stocking and garter belt—even the bed.

Twisting his hand, he pressed on—what I assume was—her G-spot, which I've never been able to find. Almost immediately, she had another orgasm, greater than any she'd had before. And then another. Fluid seeping from her coated his hand and the bed.

Harry then stood, his penis looking huge, red, angry, and wicked.

Feeling Harry place the head of his penis at her vaginal opening, Sarah recovered enough to pull herself up on her elbows so she could watch his penetration.

"Oh my God," she gasped with both wonder and fear.

Pushing against her labia, his cock slipped into it's opening, but just a little bit—maybe a quarter of an inch—making Sarah grimace and groan.

Sure he was hurting her, I say, "She'll never take it."

Next to me, Harry issues as sharp, "Ha!"

Back on the tape, Harry pulled out and rubbed his glans up and down her slit, spreading her juices. He tried entering her again and this time, the entire head slid past her protective lips. Still grimacing, Sarah's face took on a look of concentration I'd never seen on any human's face before.

Harry stood still, I guess allowing her to become accustomed to his size. As she began to relax, he slowly pushed his greatness into her, a half-inch at a time. Three inches buried inside her, there were still another five to go. It is both horrible and beautiful to watch. I feel sorry for the bitch's pain, but she deserved it.

In just a few minutes, Sarah began moving with him a little, fucking back at him as though she were beginning to enjoy it. He started moving in and out of her, an inch in, an inch out, and an inch back in again. They soon developed a rhythm only they understood, another inch of his huge cock penetrating her.

With four more inches to go, I know it would have been impossible for him to push all eight inches inside her. After all, the vagina is only five inches deep—maybe five and a half after childbirth. He'd kill her.

To my amazement, another inch slipped inside Sarah, filling her with five hard inches of cock.

My God, I can't believe this. I want to run, to stay, to cry, to scream—to masturbate—but I do none of these things. It takes more restraint than I knew I had not to rub the erection in my pants. Six inches in length, I've never been ashamed of my penis, especially since I've never been able to completely penetrate Sarah. But seeing the girth of this man—this freak of nature—I feel inferior.

Another half-inch going in, Sarah was actively fucking back at him now. Seemingly in no hurry, Harry paced himself. Plunging in and out, he pulls out until only the tip remains inside her and then slams back into her depths.

"Ugh, ugh, ugh," she grunted deliriously. "Shit, oh, fuck. Give it to me. Give it all to me."

Had she gone mad? They were really fucking now, rhythmically, beautifully, erotically . . . sweat dripping from their bodies.

"Oh, God," she screamed. "I'm coming again." Lying on top of her, Harry hammered away at her, probably rubbing the bulk of his penis against her clitoris. After a minute of this, she had one climax after another, experiencing several long minutes of the most incredible orgasms I've ever seen her have. Finally calm, she laid there with her eyes half-closed and watched him fill her up.

"Give it to me," I murmured. A little stronger, she said, "Give me all your cum!" Then she began chanting it. "Give me your cum, give me you cum." Somehow she regained enough energy to wrap her legs around his buttocks. Harry tensed and I know he was filling my wife with his seed. He screamed, "I'm cumming! Yeah. 'm cumming in you, slut!"

Showing no reaction to the vulgar word, Sarah came with him again and again as his seed pumped into her. After a few minutes, Harry rolled off her and she collapsed in a puddle of perspiration.

I watch his cock slide out of her and see the flood of his cum pouring out of her onto the bed. Relieved it is over, I almost scream at Harry, but I don't. I'm about to turn off my pen- cam when I realize the tape isn't over, not by a long shot—it has only just begun.

PART FOUR

Sitting next to me, Harry takes a sip of his drink and remembering mine, I do the same.

On the tape, Sarah and Harry were sitting up on the mattress. She peeled her ruined stockings off and threw them towards the chair with the rest of her clothing. She repeated the action with her garter.

Absently, I wonder when I'd last seen that underwear.

A moment later, Sarah bent over and took Harry's sticky, nearly wilted cock into her mouth. Worshiping his cock, she kissed it, licked it, and sucked it like she wanted to devour it.

Needing it desperately, I take another swig of bourbon.

On the tape, they were still sitting side by side on the sticky mattress. Harry's dick had been limp for a few minutes, but it hadn't wilted much in size. I'm surprised she could take so much of him in her mouth. Where was she putting? It had to be in her throat.

His recovery time was amazing. In no time at all, life flooded back into his dick and it was as hard, angry, red, and vicious as before.

I can hear a whispering sound and realize Harry was talking to Sarah as she gave him head. I have to listen closely, but stop myself from leaning forward, so the pen-cam doesn't lose its line of sight.

"So, how'd you like that, baby?"

Releasing his cock from her mouth, she smiled sexily, if a little weakly. "I loved it." She sounded quite serious and gave the head of his cock another kiss.

"Would you say he has earned your praise?"

Perfectly relaxed and smiling, it's obvious she'd begun to recover. She kissed his cock again and said,

"Him? Sure. Anything this boy wants, Harry, he can have. He's earned it."

"Anything?" She bowed her head, kissing the tip, yet again. "Sure, anything."

Smiling lecherously, he said, "That's good to know."

You can see her lips curved into a smile, even though she had the head of his penis back in her mouth.

"Come up here," he commanded, lying back on the mattress. She released his penis and moved up so she was lying beside him. As he began playing with her, touching here and touching her there, I'm amazed at my wife's recovery. He pushed her onto her stomach, grabbed a bottle of oil from the bedside table, and began to massage her. He worked over her arms, hands, feet, and legs before turning her onto her back and repeating the process, spending a great deal of time on her breasts, but avoiding her nipples. His huge penis waiting at attention, he circled and circled around her nipples until Sarah was moaning and writhing beneath him. She arched her back when he finally captured her nipples, pinching, rubbing, pulling, and stretching them. Then he took each of them into his mouth and sucked them until they were taught and erect.

I can hear Sarah's heavy breathing as Harry moved away.

Continuing his massage, he rubbed her feet, calves, and thighs, working his way up to her pelvis where his fingers touched her vulva in glancing movements.

Unable to stop moving, she said, "Please, Harry."

Smiling, he began fingering her with his thumb, occasionally rubbing her clit, making her cry out and arch her back even more. Soon he had three fingers in her again, giving her another G-spot induced orgasm.