As relaxed as our relationship became with Michael, I hadn't watched them in our bed. Fantasies of them fucking was one thing, but I wasn't sure I could see another man "have" Linda. I could manipulate my own fantasies as I pictured them, editing the moments of intimacy between them to suit my comfort level, but I was in a place where I feared watching them together might churn up those  jagged shards of possessiveness and jealousy that assaulted me that first night at the Excelsior. What would I do? Stand there with my dick in my hand while I watched him bring my wife to orgasm? That seemed so pathetic. Maybe it was better not to know.

For a while, I found the subject just awkward enough to leave things as they were. That first night he stayed over, I'd slept on the sofa only a few yards away and masturbated to the sounds of Linda urging him on. All of it had been new and exciting, and the moans of her orgasm were more than enough to finish me. The time after that was sleepless torture. I cringed when I thought of giving up both Linda and our bed to him after a second time, and how it might become our future, all while I tossed and turned on our sofa like an outcast. Not that thoughts of another man putting a smile on Linda's face after a night with her didn't still excite me, but it became unbearably unlike what my past fantasies had promised, that Linda and I would sow the seeds of our new fantasies together.

One night after Linda and I made love, she asked why I still hadn't watched Michael fuck her. "He's the one who brought it up," she admitted. "And I think it's time - it would be good for us, wouldn't it? I want you to be there - it doesn't seem right having you sleep out there on the sofa. I know you masturbate while you listen to us. You love seeing me naked. Wouldn't you like to see me under him, or on top, riding him? Hasn't that always been your fantasy?"

I admitted as much. "But are you sure he'd be able to keep it up with me there, watching like some kind of spectator?"

She rolled on top of me and grinned. "Welll - he's always been ready, always so hard for me, and then again so incredibly soon after we fuck. Why do you think I'm so happy all the time? I have two men I can depend on to fuck me completely and deliriously senseless, whenever I want them. Why shouldn't they both be in the room with me at the same time? Or maybe in the same bed."

I didn't have an immediate answer for her, but still wondered how it might work. She could see I still struggled with all kinds of potential mishaps and embarrassment.

"What if we leave the bedroom door open the next time he stays?" she suggested. "You could wander in quietly, or just watch from the door if that's more comfortable for you the first time. He's already told me he wouldn't mind if you want to be there. In fact, he said he wondered how long it was going to take you to ask. He's done this before when he lived in New York, remember?"

"So, what then?" I asked her. "Would you want me on the bed with the two of you? Or maybe more than just that?" I knew I was asking the questions of an unsettled novice, but it was a place my fantasies hadn't yet taken me.

"It's not that I haven't thought about it, David, but I guess I never went so far as to imagine all the things the three of us might do together every second. But, imagining having two naked men in my bed at the same time - mmmm, it is hard to see how that could be a bad thing."

"You'd want both of us to fuck you then? Maybe take turns?"

"I have fantasies too, David, and that's been one of them for a while now. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Maybe just let it happen and see where it takes us?"

"But you still have some idea, right? About what you'd want if you had two cocks to play with instead of just one?"

She shook her head slowly and grinned at me as her hand tested bringing my cock back to life. "One cock is fine. But since you brought it up, two just might be better... ," she teased. "But I wouldn't worry about how and when I'd want both of you - you don't know what Michael is like in bed. He might surprise you with how generous he is."

"You mean, generous with his cock..."

"Mmmm, maybe that too," she assured me, as my erection began to return in her expert hands. "Now, maybe you'd like to put this big, hard thing inside me. I'm sure you can be just as generous if we talk more about you and Michael fucking me."

We fucked furiously, and I'm afraid I came much too soon. But Linda didn't seem to mind at all. Afterward, her face was pure satisfaction and contentment, her gaze fixed on the ceiling above us.

                                                     ***

I came home Saturday afternoon to find Linda still at work on her laptop, her eyes scanning the screen intensely. She didn't often work from home, but her office had an unplanned deadline and she had been at it all day. She had sighed when she got the news from her boss that morning, knowing it would likely take most of her day. I knew better than to ask her if I could help; she was the artist, I was the 'tech guy'. Unless her laptop needed a virus dead and gone, I'd be useless. I left in the morning to give her peace and quiet for half the day, hoping it would cut short the time it would take her to finish.

"I have food, and something else you'll like. Almost done?" I asked when I returned.

She looked up and smiled. "Thank you! I'm so starved - I've been at this all day with nothing to eat but munchies. And we're out of everything to drink except water and beer."

"So, we have Kung Pao Chicken, and for me, some Thai Curry. I know the spicy stuff gives you heartburn, but I couldn't resist a little curry for myself."

I set the food on the table, then opened the large grocery bag. "And, you're going to love what else I brought you." She sat back in her chair and watched me lift the Bacardi and strawberries from the bag. "I'm afraid the strawberries are frozen. The weather's so bad I gave up looking for fresh ones. This time of year I doubt there are any within hundreds of miles. Sorry about that."

She got up and hugged me, planting a quick kiss on my lips. "You're always thinking of me - did you get something for yourself?"

"To drink? Well, I still have that eighteen year old single malt Michael was kind enough to give me the night he came to dinner to show me what a 'good friend' he was to you. You remember that night, don't you? How friendly he was to you?" I grinned, and she took a step back and punched me.

"I seem to remember you liking what a 'good friend' he was to me after he fucked me to within an inch of my life in our bed. You couldn't keep your hands or your cock away from me the entire weekend. Come on now, admit it..." She was backing away slowly with her hands spread, having her usual fun teasing me.

"Okay, I admit it. How many times did he fuck you that night anyway? I can't quite remember," I teased back. "Let me think, was it three, or four, or five...?"

"Keep going," she said. "You'll get to the right number eventually..."

We were both so hungry we sat at the table and devoured the food in silence. When I began to make her a daiquiri, she told me to wait. "It's early - are you trying to get me drunk and have your way with me, mister? You know you can have me any time you want, don't you?"

She began to unbutton her blouse as she ate. There was just enough of her cleavage exposed to make me want to put my hands inside. She didn't look up - she simply undid the final button, stretched her arms and straightened her back just enough to thrust her breasts through the opening. Then she was staring at me, flashing her best sex-kitten smile, watching me drool. "Any time, any way you want - just let me know," she assured me. "What was it she said the other night in one of your old movies? 'All you have to do is whistle. Just put your lips together, and blow?' "

I was hardly Bogey, but she had done a seriously heart-stopping imitation of Bacall. In fact, quoting the film made me consider how much like Bacall Linda could be in her most daring, seductive moments. She had been so girly when we first met. I thought it had been an act, but it was still so sexy. Marriage had changed her though as she became what she imagined a wife should be - soft, pretty, and innocent, with a maturity that seemed almost a veneer at times. Year by year I could see she was determined to grow into the part, to put on a new skin, one she borrowed from the women who managed her at work, and from the older wives of couples we socialized with. But now and then the girly Linda would emerge, suddenly and unexpectedly, often when she used it to let me know she was horny, or even sometimes to flirt with other men. She could turn it on and off in an instant, and she knew how well it worked. Men loved it, and so did I.

But just as there was a vestige of her girly side, Linda sheltered a darker, more assertive side as well. She used it much less often, but I learned it could also be summoned by sexual desire after long periods of stress. I grew to love that she would constantly surprise me with seductions laced with lurking secret fantasies and what she came to confess as her sometimes 'good girl/bad girl' inner conflict.

I understood her darker nature much better after her confession about Jordan, her past coworker who teased out and inflamed her submissive addiction. In time, the public assertive Linda had become more dominant, which gave her an air of professionalism at work and of the 'proper wife' everywhere else. Even her taste in clothing had matured; the little girl baggy shorts and T-shirts had been discarded for fitted slacks, silk blouses, and sundresses influenced by her image of what a 'proper' wife should wear.

Age had been kind to Linda - more than kind, actually. Her figure had blossomed in her early thirties with perfectly flared hips and fuller breasts, but she still miraculously retained her wasp-like waist and long, slim legs. She wore the changes well, most often with the physical appearance of a Stepford wife, but with a sharp wit and keen ability to hold her own in any conversation about any subject. At first glance she was a pretty housewife, but she soon became a fascinating enigma after any man spent five minutes with her. It gave the girly Linda an even more potent effect when she let it out to play. Men were drawn to her as though they didn't care that she was my wife, and that hadn't always been easy for me to ignore.

"I just might take you up on that tonight," I answered with a knowing grin. "I have some other surprises, ones I think you'll like even more."

"So where are they?" she asked, peering into the bags I brought home.

"You'll have to wait till tonight - maybe after a few more daiquiris."

"Can't you give me a hint? You know how I hate waiting for presents!"

"Well, it's something we can play with," I promised with a smile.

"I know that look - I hope it's not another dildo, at least not one even bigger than the last one you bought. I never liked it, but I know you got off pretending it belonged to some big stud that was fucking me. It really didn't work that well for me. I prefer real cock, fantasy boy. You know - thick and hard and warm, with a nice fat head that leaks a little so I know I'm making it happy?"

"Sorry about that. I guess I could tell, and it's why I put it away after a while. But I really wanted to know how you'd like a much bigger cock during sex. So, you didn't like it at all?"

"David! That thing was huge! A little of it was wonderful - I'm sure you noticed how I loved the first few inches of it. But any more than that felt like a giant post stuck up inside me. I don't want to feel like I'm giving birth while I'm having sex. I want a man to use his penis to satisfy me, and to feel like I've been with a live, warm human being afterwards."

"But, you like Michael's though, right? You never were honest with me about his size."

"I was, David. I told you it didn't matter, that the man mattered."

"I've seen it myself, Linda. Why can't you be honest about it? You must be able to tell the difference. Can you tell me what kind of difference? How it feels inside you?"

"Honestly David, you really are a glutton for punishment today. Does hearing me tell you things like that turn you on?"

"It's - complicated," I confessed. "In a way, yes. Imagining his big cock exciting you when you see it, hold it, and then put it in your mouth - the image I get is breathtaking. When I think about how great it makes you feel, how satisfying it must be for you when he's pumping away inside you, it's sexy as hell, and I'm happy for you, glad that he can do that for you. He's been a good friend to you, and has a cock that you like just as much. I guess a woman couldn't have it any better than that, especially a married woman with a husband that allows it. But with all those emotions comes the danger, the fear that you'll like it a little too much, and that there's nothing I could do to compete with that if I had to. We men are stuck with what we're born with."

"You men and your competition thing. And comparing dick sizes is the ultimate cliche. You do know that women don't live for your cocks, right? That we don't get up every morning and think, 'Now where can I go to find the biggest cock out there today?'. Don't get me wrong - we love your cocks. But we don't measure them or marry them. We don't obsess over them, at least not like you men do."

"So, you're not going to tell me," I said finally.

She stared at me for a few seconds, narrowing her eyes, thinking. "If that's what you want, fine. There is a difference. And yes, one I can feel. It's the way it pushes against my clit, the way it tugs at it while he's fucking me. But sometimes I come too soon. Sometimes the way he does it when he gets so excited, pounding me so relentlessly, is just too intense. It's great quickie sex, but not the prolonged, loving sex I need from you. He's not that much bigger, David; it would never be enough to make me give up yours for his. Never. Is that what you wanted to know? Are you satisfied now?"

I couldn't decide whether she was determined, angry, or just exhausted from trying to make me understand. I knew if I didn't respond, she'd think she hurt me; but actually, her honesty, in words that came so easily for her, was both comforting and a bit arousing. I wondered if she realized she had again added to the lurid images I was collecting in my head of Michael and her fucking.

"Completely satisfied," I told her, with every ounce of sincerity I could manage. "That's all you had to say. I just needed honesty, and was afraid if you were holding anything back, if there were any of those secrets we've talked about, we'd be in trouble."

She reached across the table and took my hand. "David, there are secrets. But they're our secrets, not secrets between Michael and me. He'll never know everything about us, what our lives have been like before him, or feel our love for each other now. I've told you before, if you want me to stop fucking him, I will."

"No, I don't want that, Linda, if you don't. All I want is honest answers to my questions and concerns, especially the nagging ones that fuel my insecurities. I guess I'm still learning, still trying to feel my way through it to do this the right way, if there is one."

"We both are, David. And I'm sorry that I wasn't completely honest with you. But I didn't know that it was on your mind so much, and I guess I was afraid the truth would hurt. It won't happen again. I promise to tell you all about his giant, enormous cock." Now she was teasing me, and her final grin was all she needed to change the subject.

She came to me, sat on my lap, and kissed me deeply. I put my hand inside her open blouse, palming her breast and nipple. She released a soft moan as we kissed, and I knew she'd be wet inside her lined, winter jeans. She broke the kiss and smiled, an inch from my face.

"Wanna fuck? I'm not sure I can wait for my daiquiri." I loved it when she veered from affectionate to nasty in the blink of an eye. Nothing made me harder.

"Maybe I want to make you wait," I said, grinning back at her. "Maybe I want you begging for it."

"I can beg. I can show you," she assured me.

"Not convincingly enough before two daiquiris. I want my gorgeous wife a little drunk and very slutty tonight before I show her my surprise."

Her hand moved to my crotch, squeezing lightly. "I can do slutty. Maybe more than you know, mister. But I'm warning you, if my husband finds us, he may want to join in. And that might scare you, because I love his big cock, and you'd be SO left out."

"I'll take my chances," I told her. "I'm sure a little slut like you will be worth waiting for. And, I know for a fact that married pussy is the best kind. Slutty married pussy, well, that's something special. I'd stand in line for that."

"Then you better get busy, mister. Those daiquiris aren't going to make themselves. And my husband's scotch is a gift from my boyfriend, so you can have as much as you want, as long as your cock still works." She had elevated teasing to an art form long ago, one with her signature little hooks that reeled me in, escalating her part in our fantasies. At least by now I recognized it for what it was.

                                            *****

Linda finished her work by early evening. By then I had enough time to make our bedroom much more likely to match my surprise. The pitcher of daiquiris was made, this time with just a bit more rum than Linda was used to. She wrinkled her brow a little at the first sip as though she knew something was different, but by the second glass she was sipping faster, enjoying the alcohol rush through her veins, then the light-headed calm that washed over her.

"Okay, can I see your surprise now that you've got me drunk?" she asked.

"I think it's time," I told her. "But you have to put this on first."

"Mmmm, kinky," she said with a tipsy grin. "So, you're going to have your way with me while I'm blindfolded?"

I went behind her and placed the black strip of cloth over her eyes, tying it with a double knot at the back. "Now, follow me to your defilement, sexy lady."

Our bedroom was lit by rows of flickering candles, on the window sill, her dresser, and  across the headboard that rose three feet above our pillows. I had forgone real candles, hoping the small battery powered ones would last much of the night without extra care.

I took two steps back and told her to take her clothes off. All of them.

She hesitated. "Okay David, what are you doing?"

"I want you naked. You're a toy tonight. Obey me, and you'll be rewarded. Don't, and you'll be punished, in the most cruel ways imaginable." I knew I couldn't put enough evil in my voice to scare her, but she got the message.

She grinned, then willingly began to play her part. "But Sir, which piece of clothing should I remove first? I don't want to be punished." It was her innocent little wifey voice, and it made me extra hard.

"I want to see how you choose to expose yourself before your Master. You decide, but beg me first. Beg me to take each piece of clothing off, and tell me what you want to show me."

"Okay - I'll take my blouse of for you..."

"No! Beg me! Then tell me why."

"Um, okaaay, 'Master'. Can I take my blouse off for you? Please?"

"Why would you want to do that?"

She grinned again. "Oh, 'Master', I want you to see my tits, sooo much. I hope you like them." It was more tongue-in-cheek than I had wanted, but I'd take whatever she'd give me.

"So, show them to me."

She unbuttoned her blouse so slowly, lingering on each button, pretending the embarrassment was almost more than she could stand. I watched her pull it off her shoulders, then hold it out in front of her, presenting it to me.

"It's all yours, 'Master'."

I tugged it from her outstretched hand, backed away again, and waited.

"Can I take off my bra, 'Master'? I really do want to show you my tits. I hope you like them."

"Yes, my toy, take it off and show me. I hope they're worthy."

She removed her bra and held it out for me. I took it from her and put my hands on her breasts, lifting and squeezing them. "Do you like the way I fondle you?"

"Ohhh yes, 'Master'. My tits are yours, all yours. You can even suck them if you want." She couldn't hold back another grin.

When I sucked her nipple into my mouth, she inhaled suddenly, then made a quiet little sound, something between a moan and a whimper.

"Ahh, my little toy likes it. But don't be afraid. If you need to moan like a little slut, then do it. In fact, I insist."

I sucked again, this time on the opposite breast, and the sound of her moan filled the room. Without warning, I took her face in my hands and kissed her deeply. She moaned again, eyes unseeing behind the blindfold, submitting to her 'unknown Master'. Turning her head to the side, I whispered closely by her ear, "My little slut wants to fuck, doesn't  she?"

"Yes!" she hissed. "I want Master to fuck me until I come. Please!" She seemed to fall into the game instantly then, her pleading so sincere I was convinced it was genuine.

"But you'll have to strip first. I haven't even seen your pussy yet. Do you want to show me?"

"Yes - yes, I will. I want to! I want to show you my pussy so you can fuck me."

She wasted no time stripping off her socks, jeans, and panties, dropping them on the floor beside her.

"I-I'm naked for you, Master. Will you take me now?"

"Only if you behave, my toy. Now, get on the bed and spread your legs. Show me how you want to take your Master's cock."

I led her to the bed and helped her onto it. She stretched out her arms and legs in a show of complete surrender. When I put the padded handcuffs on her, she turned her head suddenly from side to side, as though she might see through the blindfold to watch. I passed a heavy rope through an opening in the headboard, then drew it tightly around the short chain between the cuffs. As I pulled the rope, it drew her hands above her head, closer the headboard, until her wrists were fastened there but free to pivot about the center of the cuffs.

"So, our long night begins," I said solemnly. "Do you have any idea how many times you'll be used tonight, my toy?"

"You can use me any way you want, 'Master'. As many times as you want. My body belongs to you. All of it."

She was smiling again, expecting me to climb between her legs and fuck her - the usual attempt at BDSM sex we had played with a few times in the past. Nothing more. A 'husband fuck' with a bit more edge than usual. We both knew my edge wasn't as believable as Jordan's had been, but I was getting there, and she was playing her part. I still wondered if her words were anything like the words she used with him, and if it brought back memories of their sessions together. My guess was that this was a snack to her compared to Jordan's full course meal. So far.

"I can see by your smile that you underestimate me, that you believe this won't be enough to break you, to make you a true slut. I believe you're very, very wrong."

I went to our bedroom door and opened it so he could enter. He went to her and slipped the blindfold off. In the warm, flickering candle light, she opened her eyes to see Michael standing over her. He was naked and erect, smiling at the astonished expression on her face.

"M-Michael - what, how? Oh my God! David, did you do this? Ask him here? Like this?"

Michael placed a single finger over her lips, quieting her in an instant. I'll admit his tone was more convincing than mine. "Our toy shouldn't be asking such questions, should she, David? Doesn't she understand we're her Masters? We don't answer to her - she answers to us."

"She understands she can be punished, but she doesn't know what she'll have to do tonight to avoid it," I told him.

"Well, I think it's time she finds out, don't you, David?"

Michael reached into his hidden bag of surprises he had brought with him. Linda's eyes widened when she saw the thing he retrieved. He carried it to the bed and leaned close to her, brandishing the immense object. With a flick of the switch, the head of the lifelike dildo began to writhe in small circles, lazily revolving at the end of the thick, veiny, shaft. Neither of us knew for sure whether Linda's look of speechless intimidation was real or created for our benefit.

"Now, now, Linda, we won't use this on you - yet. Maybe if you show us how grateful you are for having two cocks in your bed, we won't have to use it at all. That's what she wanted, wasn't it, David? Two cocks in her bed?"

"She said it might be better than one, Michael. Might. But I think she's going to find out."

"Well, she certainly isn't going anywhere, tied like this, so we might as well help her make up her mind. I really do like her like this, David. It's one of my areas of expertise. You should have said something earlier, although I always suspected it - you know as well as I do - the way she seems to beg for it, even when she doesn't try."

Linda stared up at him as he spoke. Her eyes were wide with something that could have passed for fear, but I was sure it was mostly surprise, and growing hunger for Michael's cock. Was it my imagination, or did she pull the rope just a little tighter while she listened?

"She really is a pretty little thing, David. I hope you appreciate her, and what she could be after she's broken."

"She has these obscene fantasies about other men," I said. "She teases me with her stories about them."

"I suppose you're looking forward to this then, David. Can you imagine her as the kind of wife who might enjoy making fucking other men a hobby? Having it become an obsession after her first taste of strange cock?"

"But a real slut?" I said. I looked down at her, tied to the bed. "I - I doubt that will ever happen, Michael. She loves sex, and teasing me with her fantasies. And I'm sure you know she loves your cock. We both get off on all that, but I don't think 'slut' is in the cards for her."

"A shame. But maybe I can help with that. What do you think, Linda?"

She glared at him, fully aware of her part in the game as our submissive toy. "I'm not a slut! And I never will be, no matter what you do to me! I love my husband!" Her protests almost sounded authentic. Almost.

"You sound very sure of yourself, Linda. But I'm sure we can pry the slut out of you in time. That's because I'm sure there's one in you. Would you mind if I had a go at her first, David?"

Linda looked back and forth at us, still a bit stunned that we had arranged this.

"Michael, I'm surprised you had to ask," I told him."I'm pretty sure there's enough of her for both of us."

Michael climbed onto the bed and knelt at her feet. "Open your legs now, Linda. Show me that wet little pussy again, like you do while David  sleeps on the couch. You really should be ashamed that he has to sleep out there while you're cumming on my cock all night."

"But he, it's, his decision..." she objected.

"Now, what did we say about being grateful, Linda? Interrupting isn't being grateful. It might even result in punishment." He picked up the phallus again and turned it on, holding it close to her pussy, teasing her. I could see she feared taking the large, insidious, squirming thing inside her.

She spread her legs as far as she could manage, and Michael climbed between them, his cock even thicker and harder than I had remembered it. "Watch her face, David. She loves this," he told me. "Now, don't you hold back. I want David to see the real you when I put my cock in you. Understand, my toy?"

She glanced over at me, then looked up at him and nodded, held helplessly by the cuffs above her head. "I will. He's waited so long. I want him to see."
 
Michael buried the entire length of his cock in her in a second. She let out a little "Uhh" when he thudded to a stop against her. I saw her breasts heave a few times as she took several deep breaths in anticipation of what she knew was to come. She looked at me one last time, then told him, "David's finally here - he wants to watch. Are you going to show my husband how you fuck me or not?" She seemed to assume she led the game then. She didn't.

"It's not quite that simple tonight, Linda. You're the toy, remember? Come on, say it for me..." I had to hand it to him - his voice was masterful and unforgiving. Having an experienced actor in our bed was surprisingly convincing.

"I'm your toy," she recited looking up into his eyes, as if in a trance.

"And what do boys do with toys, Linda?"

"Umm, fuck them?" It was her wifey voice again, and she had me trembling with thoughts of Michael using her.

"Well, yes, eventually, but boys like to play with their toys first. David, would you like to play with our toy for a while?"

"I'd absolutely love to play with our toy," I assured him.

Michael withdrew from her pussy without another full stroke, and I took his place. She was soaking wet, and I pushed into her even more easily than Michael had.

"Go on, David. Enjoy her. You can see she wants it. But save yourself - there's much more to come. There's something I adore about a sweet little wife who gets the kind of sex she needs. I think it's the light in her eyes when she truly becomes a slut. Yes, it's the process that's invigorating, but the result - when a woman will do anything, give up anything, even her pride or dignity, to satisfy her newly acquired, ceaseless hunger for cock? That's a stunning and ultimately rewarding accomplishment."

Linda looked up at me as I pumped in and out of her. Her breathing was ragged, and her chest was heaving as I stroked. It was as though she was trying to steady her balance atop a precipice that separated reality on one side from the game on the other.

Suddenly, she mouthed the silent words to me - "Thank you." I cracked a smile and nodded for a second. She had given me the password to the game, a sign she knew I may need to freely carry it out to its likely conclusion. It was the very contrast between "innocent" and "savage" that ignited and fueled the game. That Linda could want both, could be both, hardened both Michael's cock and mine. What could be more madly exciting and fiercely formidable than a "savage, slutty wife"?

Michael appeared at the side of the bed with the mechanical phallus. He held it before him so she could see and flicked the switch. This time the dildo pumped forward and back in long, menacing strokes. Another setting made the entire shaft convulse, thickening and narrowing along the entire length of it. The expansion and contraction made the thing look obscenely alive, its diameter increasing to impressive girth at times. Linda stared and trembled, and as I fucked her I couldn't tell whether she was frightened or excited by the sight of its potential invasion.

"We like our toys to be grateful, Linda," Michael said, holding the phallus closer to give her a better look. "Now, we could wait until it's too late and let our mechanical friend have its way with you, or you could avoid that by letting us know you appreciate us. After all, we're giving you what you need, what only your husband and I can provide for you."

He placed the squirming dildo on her belly, running it slowly over the soft, yielding expanse of skin. She stared down at it, following its path over her body as it inflated over and over again like an obese, breathing creature. When she didn't comply, he nestled the base lower where my cock entered her and laid it lengthwise along her torso so the bulbous head lay inches above her navel.

"Think of it, Linda. Look how far it will penetrate you. Have you ever taken a cock that big?"

She glared at him, refusing to answer, not believing he'd try to make her take all of it.

"Still no reply? Not one 'thank you' for giving you not one, but two cocks?"

She was shaking more violently as I continued to stroke, and I could tell she was seconds from cumming. When I pulled out of her, she shook her head violently with eyes closed, trying to keep her impending orgasm alive. Her hips bucked in heated frustration when she was denied it. I had never seen anything quite like it. It was an astonishing and mouthwatering sight.

"I'm afraid the unique talents of our mechanical friend aren't enough to make her sing, David. And that's all you have to do, Linda. Sing your praises to us. Tell us how our cocks are everything you need. Tell us you'll give up everything you are to be our little slut."

Linda did her best to feign fear and frustration, suddenly twisting and pulling at the rope that held her wrists to the headboard. She stopped when Michael climbed on the bed and held the wriggling phallus against the opening to her pussy. Her body froze as the spongy, rotating head began to bore into her. He stopped it an inch inside her and let it have its way with her.

Lifting her head, she watched it enter her. She was quivering again, shifting her stare between the dildo and Michael's face.

"Oh, Michael...oh fuck... it's...going to make me...come.  I need to come on your cock, Michael, not this... thing...please don't, Michael. Please...don't."

"So, you'll be our little slut? Let David and me use your body any way we want? Both of us, in your bed?"

"For fuck's sake, Michael...yes...to all that...I never wanted it...any other way. David wants it too...now fuck me so I can...cum on your cock...pleeeease..."

She moaned and clasped her legs around him when he entered her, jerking wildly against the rope that held her wrists. When he teased her with slow, even strokes, she shoved her hips up into him, bucking wildly to take more of his cock into the liquid depths of her cunt.

This was a woman I no longer knew. The sounds she made were those of a captured animal desperate for freedom. A few were new to me - the alternating raw growls and shrill shrieks were stunning, if not frightening at times. When he teased her and stopped, she thrashed wildly against the rope that held her. One of the flickering lights fell from the top of the headboard onto the pillow beside her, and in the darkened room, the tiny LED cast a jittering mix of shadow and light over her face, taunting me with fleeting expressions of ravenous hunger that will stay with me forever. Here and there during her fevered delirium I glimpsed shocking flashes of her eyes on me, accusatory daggers meant to show me once and for all what she needed me to see, as if to say, "Any more questions NOW?"

Then he offered her to me again, and I took my place where he had withdrawn. It was as far from 'making love' as I had ever known with her, our bodies raging against each other, her eyes closed, wide mouth panting, face tilted upward toward the rope that she knew surrenderred her to us. I lost track of how many times we traded places and took her, so many that I wondered how she'd outlast us. An hour passed, and she only wanted more of us.

Michael's endurance finally eclipsed my own. Minutes after I emptied myself into her writhing body, he fucked her brutally, stopping now and then while she thrashed against her bonds and begged him to finish her. Then he'd penetrate her again, suddenly and deeply, her grunts and moans filling the room. Rivulets of sweat poured from his body onto hers as he worked. Their bodies glistened in the flickering light, an animated diorama of masterful domination and willing submission. I was transfixed as I watched. Was this my wife? This lust crazed, convulsing flesh? This eager receptacle for her Master's inevitable spew? At his best, I thought, Jordan could not have given her more.

Linda's orgasm exploded in the midst of her endless cries and whimpering, in spite of Michael's best attempt to delay it. She had tired of fighting the cuffs about her wrists and the rope that stretched her arms overhead, finally exhausted and limp under him. Whether she pretended to hide its approach, or nurtured the building climax until it spontaneously washed over her, was impossible to detect. It was sudden, unexpected, and violent. Every last bit of energy came pouring out of her in a stream of raging obscenity that echoed through the room.

"fuckfuckfuck! Goddamit fuck me Michael I'm your slut Michael fuck your slut - fuck me fuck me fuck me...

She could have been possessed by a demon, but more likely she was possessed by the cock of a man who, in those few seconds, seemed to own her body completely. I watched him take her hips in his hands and lift them off the bed, his fingers pressing into her firm little ass on either side, clutching her tightly as he worked his hard meat in and out of her flat, shuddering belly. She collapsed after her climax took the wind from her, silently urging him on as she stared up into his eyes. She mouthed the words before I was able to discern them, then, in soft, whispering pleadings, her words became clear to me.

"Please, Michael, cum in me..Cum inside me, Michael. Cum inside me, cum inside me, cum inside me..."

He began to fuck her with faster, more powerful thrusts. She lay there, helplessly watching him take her, surrendering every last remnant of lust that remained in her twitching body. The scene was so powerful, so gut wrenching, that I stood and paced to gather my senses. When I passed the foot of the bed I saw the thick root of his cock buried in her, suddenly still, then heard his groans as it began - the abrupt spasms along the underside of his erection, pumping his semen into her with violent contractions.

He held her there for a while, her hips raised in the air against him. I followed the lines of her slim thighs, then to her flat, sunken belly that still held the remains of his pulsing meat buried deeply inside her. She saw me watching and turned her face toward me. Her smile was first one of utter bliss, then grew to assure me, I thought, that she was still mine. When her mouth formed the words, "Love you", I knew her smile was everything I had imagined.

I'm not sure whether Michael noticed her silent message to me, or whether it had anything to do with his decision to leave without spending the night. No one said a word as he and I dressed. He leaned over the bed and kissed Linda on the cheek. She tilted her face up to him, asking for a kiss on the lips, and he obliged, lingering only a second or two. Maybe it was three. Then I walked him to the door.

"Do you think everything's okay with the two of you?" he asked. It surprised me. I expected him to gloat, or at least tell me what a great fuck she was.

"I'm fine," I told him. "And I'm pretty sure Linda is better than fine. But I'm surprised you're not staying this time."

He glanced back at our bedroom door, then smiled at me. "I think you two need some time alone, don't you?" he asked. "I've done this before, David, and I know the first time's the hardest, at least for her husband. Honestly, would you really want me to stay?"

"You're right," I said. "Linda and I have some things to, well, understand about tonight."

"I get it, David. I'm sure I'd feel the same way if she was my wife. So, we'll do this again sometime?" he asked, quizzing me with his sincere expression.

"I think you can count on that. But she'll let you know. I expect you'll be seeing each other to...um..."

"To fuck, David?"

"I guess that's what I was trying to say, Michael. I'm not sure why I couldn't. I know you'll see each other, and I know she'll want to fuck you again - I mean probably just the two of you. Guess I'm still just a little nervous about saying it out loud in front of you."

"So, do you still have doubts, David?"

"Not doubts, exactly. The idea of you together, fucking, excites me. The idea of you in love with her, or her with you, not so much. It makes me a little ill, actually. The physical stuff is pretty amazing. I'm fine with all that.."

"The 'physical stuff' is everything, David. Don't mistake the friendship Linda and I have for something else. We have great sex together. It's always been that way. Nothing more."

"Yeah, I can see that," I said with a knowing smile as I let him out.

                                                         *****

"What were you two talking about out there?" she asked, as I sat on the bed by her side. "Plotting how to tie me up and fuck me again? By the way, I really need to pee, so untie me?"

"Hmmm, I don't know...I was planning on having my way with you again like that. Maybe all to myself this time."

"David, I'm sorry - I ache down there. I don't think I could be very convincing. But untie me, and I promise to do slutty things to you..."

I untied her, and she came strolling back to me a few minutes later, still damp and sweaty, and still exquisitely naked. She snuggled beside me on the bed and we lay quietly in the dark, her body outlined by the glow of tiny lights still flickering about the room. She had thrown one bare leg over me, and was nuzzling my shoulder and neck.

"Are you sorry you waited so long?" she whispered close to my ear.

"No, not really," I answered. "I just needed the time, I guess. Time to accept you having sex with him again after so long - outside of my fantasies, that is. And I had to be part of it after it actually happened. After all we've been through, I couldn't see us staying together unless we do this together. Michael may not be 'in love' with you, but I can tell he likes you, and he really loves fucking you. There's no way I could live with that as some kind of cowering onlooker, always afraid he'd eventually win both your body and your heart."

"That's so sweet, David, but I keep telling you you don't have to worry. It's mostly the idea though, that I'm married, and fucking this guy I had a college crush on. It's our dirty little secret, one only the three of us know about. Besides, I think you love having a slutty wife who has sex with other men. Right?"

"Other men? So there are others?"

She trailed her hand down to my cock and began to play with it.

"Would you like there to be? I could tell you stories about them, I mean, if there were other men, which there aren't."

She giggled when my erection came back to life.

"So, do you think about it - about which men you might want to fuck? Some young stud who hits on you, one you don't even know?"

"Does it surprise you that I think about those things, David? What surprises me is that most husbands can't imagine their wives fantasizing about it. But we do, all the time. You know how men are around me. Some are so sure they'll have a chance to fuck me when they flirt with me, whether I flirt back or not. If there's chemistry between us, or even if he just has an amazing body, sometimes I'll imagine us together fucking, secretly, frantically, in some hidden place where no one might find us. Just quick, anonymous sex, and then we're on our way, never to see each other again. It's the taboo, David - that I could be this horny wife who might throw caution to the wind on some ordinary day and fuck a hot stranger if he knows exactly how to seduce me."

"But that must be different now, with Michael. He's not a stranger, and it's more than just one ordinary day. Is it exciting for you in the same way? To be the "little slut" in the game Michael and I planned for you? Is that really how you see yourself when other men flirt with you?"

She rolled on top of me, then propped herself up on her elbows so I could see her grin.

"It's still exciting, David - not because others might think I'm a little slut, but because my husband imagines I'm one in his fantasies, and he loves it."