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Reply-To: "Rumrunner" <Rumrunner2001@yahoo.com>
From: "Rumrunner" <Rumrunner2001@yahoo.com>
NNTP-Posting-Date: Sat, 27 Jan 2001 22:39:18 CST
Subject: {ASSM} Repost: Cynthia's Progress 4/? (MMM/FF, slut-wife)
Date: Sun, 28 Jan 2001 09:10:08 -0500
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This story is an original work of fiction. It in no way resembles any
persons living or deceased. It is purely a work of fantasy and is intended
for the use of adults only. If you are under the age of 18, or are
prohibited by law to have access to such materials, please stop reading now.

Feel free to distribute this work freely, provided it remains unchanged,
with credit given to the author. Please download and enjoy it!

I would love to hear what you all think. Any feedback, suggestions or
criticisms are all welcome and greatly encouraged. Please! Tell me what you
think.

 Rumrunner
 rumrunner2001@yahoo.com


Cynthia's Progress,
Chapter 4


Thwack!

Our eyes stayed locked on the golf ball as it sailed cleanly down the
fairway, veering just slightly to the right until it bounced twice and came
to a halt.

"Nice drive," I told him.

"I think you got me by about twenty-five yards," Marty replied.

"About that," I agreed. "Looks like we both need to work on our slice."

"It's all in the grip," he said and then burst into unexplained laughter.

"Sorry," he chuckled, seeing my puzzled look, "just reminded me of another
guy I golf with sometimes, Randall Wainscott."

We slid our drivers back into their bags and headed to the cart as he
continued his story.

"Randall and his wife are 'special' friends, like you and Cynthia. One
afternoon a couple of years back he and I and a couple of other fellas made
a foursome and played 36 holes while our wives spent the day on the town,
hitting the spa and then shopping all afternoon - kind of like today.  I
wonder if Sheila and your wife will leave us anything in our bank accounts?"
He snickered at the last comment, although I was pretty sure his bank
account could absorb quite a bit of damage before he'd have to worry.

"Anyway," he continued as we secured our golf bags in the cart and started
along the pathway. "Randall had been fighting his slice all day, and not
just sending 'em a bit to the side of the green either. About every third
drive he'd be digging in the rough for his ball, cussing up a storm.

"Well, later that night all eight of us had gone out to dinner, then came
back to the house.  We'd all been partying quite a bit; most everyone was in
some stage of fooling around with someone else.  Randall was pretty tanked
and starts thinking about his slice again. 'It's all in the grips' he kept
saying, 'I need to do something about the grips.' One of the girls, Allison,
asked him if there wasn't something he could put on them to make them grip
better.  He got all excited and ran out of the room.  He comes back in a few
minutes with his whole bag of clubs, pulls out his 1 Wood and starts rubbing
the grip between Allison's legs.  She just started laughing, but he's not
paying any attention, he's concentrating on working the club up into her
pussy. Pretty soon she lies back and he pumps that thing into her, rubbing
her clit with one hand until she comes.

"By now, everyone's watching him and he's getting real worked up. Swears
he's found the cure to all his golfing woes.  He starts handing each of the
guys a club and telling us to get his grips 'seasoned' for him. Everyone was
drunk enough that it seemed like a good idea at the time, so before you know
it, we've all got clubs stuffed up the nearest girl's twat.  He wouldn't let
up until we 'seasoned' every club he had. Got the ladies pretty worn out,
too.  He didn't figure a club was ready until the girl had orgasmed on it."

He stopped the cart and we got out.

"Did help his game any," I asked, smiling.

"Not a damn bit," Marty roared.  "But he still insists that it did.  I
swear, if he ever buys another set of clubs he's going to throw a 'club
warming' party, invite every woman we know.  Either that, or his wife's
going to have one hell of a long night!"

We both had smile on our faces as we split up to find to our balls.

I'd been having a great time getting to know Marty over the last two weeks;
in fact, both Cynthia and I had really bonded with the older couple.  We had
seen them several times since our last encounter, just socially - regular
socially that is - getting to know one another and having a platonic good
time.  Thursday night, two days ago, was the only time that we'd had any
kind of sexual get-together.  We had had them over to our house for dinner
and then had a pretty normal wife-swapping foursome on our king-size bed.
(Wow! It's amazing how your concept of normal can be so drastically changed
in such a short period of time.)

These platonic gatherings were building up everyone's comfort level, Sheila
had explained to me, and she was right.  Cynthia had become good friends
with her already. It was really remarkable to me how her and Marty could act
in such an innocent, friendly manner together, so much so that no one would
suspect that two nights ago behind our bedroom door she was screaming his
name as she rode his cock, thanking him (I could hardly believe that part
myself) after he came in her mouth.

Tonight was going to be our third "conjugal" night together. Cynthia was
always eager to see our new friends and although she was a little tentative
when we would talk about our experience, I could sense an even greater
curiosity.  Marty had been telling me all afternoon how impressed he and his
wife both were with her.  So many women, he had told me, were unable to
interact casually outside the bedroom with people that they were involved
with in swinging groups.  Cynthia however, had shown no problems with the
duality. They were so impressed, in fact, that they were already going to
push things a little tonight.  I'd asked for specifics, but Marty had just
smiled and told me I would probably enjoy things more as a surprise.

* * *

We were all in high spirits as Marty pulled his Lexus into the garage.
After enjoying a full afternoon of golf, Marty and I had met up with our
wives and took them to dinner at a small, Italian caf  downtown. The wine
had been flowing quite freely, especially in Cynthia's direction.  My two
co-conspirators and I had managed to constantly refill her glass after every
swallow she took, making it impossible for her to keep track of how many
she'd had. Marty's frequent toasts and encouragement all around to "drink
up" had gotten her into quite an inebriated state by the time we left the
restaurant.

Marty popped the trunk from inside the car as he shut off the engine.

"Why don't you boys take the shopping bags all inside now," Sheila
instructed. "We can sort Cynthia's stuff out from mine before you two
leave."

"That shouldn't be too hard," Cynthia said cheerily, with a trace of a slur
in her speech. "I hardly remember us buying anything for you."

"She'd have to tear down a wall and add fifty square feet to her closet if
she bought too many more clothes for herself," Marty teased his wife before
she could answer.

There were several bags, none of them very large, and Marty and I easily
gathered them up as and followed the ladies into the house.  I couldn't help
but notice that there were a couple of bags from nice boutiques, but the
majority came from Victoria's Secret, Fredericks of Hollywood, and a couple
of other stores whose names I wasn't familiar with, but they all had the
words "intimate apparel" following the title.

"So, what did you buy?" I asked my wife as Marty and I set the bags down in
the den.

Cynthia flashed me a guilty smile, "Quite a few things, actually. Sheila
makes a great shopping partner; I think you'll really like her taste."

"Drinks anyone?" Marty asked, stepping behind the bar.

"Whiskey and soda," I said.

"Same for me," Sheila chimed in.

"I think I'd better pass," Cynthia told him, plopping down onto the sofa.
"I think I may be at my limit for the evening."

"You're not driving anywhere," I encouraged lightly, trying not to push the
issue to obviously.

"Tell you what," Marty offered, "I'll make you a vodka and cranberry juice,
just a touch of vodka."

"That sounds good.  I'd hate to be a party pooper!"

Marty's exceptional bartending skills had drinks in our hands in no time.

"Certainly a lot of shopping bags," he commented, sitting down himself
finally. "Why don't you let us see if we got our money's worth?  How about a
little fashion show?"

Cynthia glanced over at the bags piled near the doorway and started to
giggle. Sometimes her giddy attitude when she drinks can annoy me, but
lately I've come to appreciate it as a good sign that we may have some fun
in store.

"That might be kind of fun," she said, "I think we picked up quite a few
items you both will enjoy."

"Let's head up to the bedroom," Sheila told her, already gathering up
several of the bags, enthusiastic at the idea.  "Mike, grab some of these
bags.  You too, Marty.  No, Cynthia, just your drink.  Let these big, strong
men carry everything."

We toted everything up to the master bedroom, dropping it all in a pile on
their huge, ornate bed. Sheila shooed us out the door and we returned to our
drinks in the den.  We'd barely sat down when the intercom came to life with
Sheila's voice.

"Hey guys, let's do this right. Head down to the studio room and we'll meet
you there in a few minutes."

"Time for Cynthia's first photo shoot," Marty said to me with a wink.

"Think she'll go for it?"

"I'm sure she will, just a little gentle encouragement. I don't think we'll
have any problems.  I'll bet she has a great time with it, in fact."

"One of your cocktails with a 'touch' of vodka can't hurt, either," I
teased.

"Well," he admitted with a grin, "I do tend to have a pretty heavy 'touch'
when I'm mixing drinks.  And you can bet Sheila will make sure she gets the
whole thing down by the time they're changed.

He led me down stairs and into a very large, windowless room. One end had
several large screens around a platform raised 6-inches off the floor, like
I had seen in photography studios, as well as four large, freestanding
lights with reflectors.  The rest of the room had a variety of furniture
spread around: a couple of couches, several different types of chairs and
benches, a couple of differently sized coffee tables and end tables.  I
recognized some of the pieces from the photo albums and the movies they had
shown me before.  Obviously, they were all available as props for their
photo shoots. Marty went behind the screens and returned with a tripod in
one hand and a pair of cameras dangling from their straps in the other.  He
was almost finished setting one up on the tripod when Sheila and Cynthia
came into the room.

"Ta-da!" Sheila entered first. She had changed into a sexy dark green dress,
knee-length and clingy around her sensuous hips. It had thin straps on the
shoulders that dropped low enough to show off a generous amount of
well-supported, soft cleavage that shook with each step she took. Low heels
and black stockings completed the outfit.

"Very nice," I told her after letting out a wolf-whistle.

"You look fantastic, as always," her husband added in an affectionate tone.

"Thank you, thank you," she paced in front of us, stopping to make a slow,
full turn. "You're both much to kind." Then, in a softer voice for Marty and
I alone, she added, "Time for the main event."

"The lovely Cynthia!" she announced loudly, signaling her entrance.

Cynthia strutted into the room with a silly grin on her face, wobbling a
little on 5-inch stiletto heels.

"Fantastic!" George exclaimed, and he was certainly right. She was wearing a
white silk blouse that fit rather tightly, accentuating her small breasts.
She apparently had on some kind of push up bra to make those two points
stand up so proudly at attention. A black leather skirt hung only low enough
to barely cover the tops of her flesh-toned stockings. The high heels
extended her calves to make her already great legs even shapelier. They had
arranged her hair up off her shoulders and touched up her make up. She
really did look terrific, sexy as hell and good enough to eat.

"We definitely have a pair of supermodels on our hands," Marty said to me
with a wink.

"Glad you like it," Cynthia giggled, smiling widely. "Don't know about
supermodels, but I think we're definitely a couple of hot looking babes!"

"You're gonna look great on film in that," George told her matter-of-factly.

"What do you mean?" She was a bit confused at what he meant, thought still
laughing.  For the first time she looked around the room, noticing the
cameras and the lights.

"Oh, don't you remember? When I showed you this room on our tour the first
time you were over, I'm sure I told you I'm a bit of an amateur
photographer." Marty smiled at his wife. "I'm sure my favorite model is
always glad to get a break from me."

"Yeah, yeah, I guess I do remember," Cynthia said still smiling, but staring
a little at the equipment.

"I hope you don't mind me taking some photos of you, both of you," Marty
said in a friendly tone.

"Not too much of me," Sheila told him quickly, "You've got a million of me.
Besides, this is the only thing I bought to day. Cynthia's the fashion plate
today; all those bags of new clothes are hers to model. C'mon over here,
Cynth, you'll have some fun being a fashion model."

My wife hesitated for a moment, and then said with a laugh, "Why not! Just
promise me you'll get rid of any that don't make me look good."

"Scouts honor," Marty told her leading her over by the screens.  I don't
think it had sunk into her somewhat alcohol clouded mind that nearly all
those clothes Sheila had referred to her modeling were lingerie.

She stepped up onto the small platform as Marty positioned himself behind
the camera. "OK," she said with a slightly nervous laugh. "What do I do?"

"Just relax," Marty told her, melting into photographer mode. "Give me a
smile, that's great." He snapped the first picture. "See how easy it is? Put
your hands behind your head, that's good, lean back a little." Click, click.
"Mike, can you put that stool up there."

I grabbed a tall barstool and set it next to her. I gave her a quick kiss
and said, "You look gorgeous.  Having fun?"

"Yeah," she giggled, "just call me Cindy Crawford."

"Put your hands on the stool," Marty directed her, that's good, now bend at
the waist and arch your back." He snapped several more shots, directing her
around the stool. She went through several poses, bending over the stool,
standing behind it.  He had her sit up on it and cross her legs, causing the
skirt to ride up high enough to expose her stocking tops.  He took a few
more pictures and then motioned for her to unfasten a couple of buttons on
her blouse.  She complied with a naughty grin, opening up the top three
buttons. As she turned this way and that, frequent glimpses of her bra and
the smooth tops of her petite breasts were recorded on film.

"Might as well take the whole thing off," Sheila said offhand.

She unfastened the last few buttons then hesitated. Before she could voice
and objection, Sheila chimed in, "Why don't you give the poor girl a break
Marty," I sensed a barely perceptible note of anxiety in her voice. "Even
supermodels get five minutes for a rice cake."

"True, true," Marty agreed, "why don't I get us all something to eat?"

He left  for the kitchen.

"Having fun," Sheila asked as she sat down on one of the couches with
Cynthia. "You look great! These pictures are going to be fantastic. Do you
want to see some others Marty's taken?"

"Sure," Cynthia agreed. I could tell she felt a little awkward sitting there
with her blouse wide open, but she tried to act unaffected. Sheila got up
and brought a photo album out of one of the cabinets and handed it to
Cynthia. It was very similar looking to the ones I had seen a couple of
weeks ago. I moved to look over my wife's shoulder as she thumbed through
the book. It started with several pages of photos of Sheila fully dressed in
sexy clothes.  A few pages in, the pictures got a little racier. There were
several pages of photos of Sheila posing in all sorts of lingerie - bra and
panty sets, nighties, etc. In the last few pages she was topless and the
final page had her totally, yet tastefully nude.

I could tell the pictures excited Cynthia, she kept telling Sheila how good
she looked, how much she liked various articles of clothing.  Marty returned
with a tray of crackers and cheeses, along with a couple of bottles of wine
and four glasses.  He filled our glasses and Cynthia was the first to finish
hers as we all commented on Sheila's photos and kept telling Cynthia how
great she looked. Finally, Marty asked her if she wanted to take some more.
She hesitated a very brief moment, and then with a "what the hell" look in
her eye she stripped the blouse off and hopped up on the stool. A beige
push-up bra gave her small, pert breasts all the cleavage they could offer.
Marty snapped only a couple of pictures before the doorbell rang.

Marty and Sheila exchanged a puzzled look. "I really don't think we're
expecting anyone. I'll go get see who it is and get rid of them," Sheila
assured everyone as she left the room.

Cynthia posed for a few more pictures, then Sheila walked back into the
room.  "Marty," she said, "look who came by to drop off your books."

I turned to see a tall, good-looking blonde man, a couple of years older
than me, walk smiling into the room. Cynthia raised her hands to cover
herself, looking a bit bewildered

"Kevin!" Marty exclaimed, "Come on in, I've got a couple of people I'd love
for you to meet."

Hearing his name gelled things for me.  He had been one of the three men in
Debbie's video

Marty introduced me, and we shook hands.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," he started, giving Cynthia a
friendly smile, "I don't want to embarrass anyone."

All eyes were on Cynthia.  She hesitated for a moment then screwed up her
courage and dropped her arms. I think she had started to idolize Marty and
Sheila a bit, and since the situation seemed so harmless, so normal to them,
she didn't want to do anything she would perceive as disappointing them.

"Nonsense," she said with a smile that took just a bit of effort. "We're
just shooting some pictures of my new clothes."

"Care to stick around?" Sheila asked him, "If Mike and Cynthia here don't
mind."

I exchanged a questioning glance with my wife, then she answered. "That's
fine with me. Help our host out and get him a glass of wine, Mike."

She headed boldly back to the platform and started posing again, now for a
slightly larger audience.  Any shyness she may have had disappeared quickly.
It almost seemed as if she was trying to shame any embarrassment she had
into submission, helped by the liberal quantities of alcohol she had
consumed. She thrust her chest out and stared at the camera with a sultry
gaze, slightly overdone. Marty took photos from several angles, and then she
propped her foot up on the lower rung of the stool and slowly peeled the
stocking off her leg, finally kicking both shoes off.  Marty had her move
over to one of the couches so she could lie on her back to remove the other
stocking.  She raised her leg high in the air, causing her already brief
skirt to ride up and reveal her lacy, taupe-colored panties as she rolled
the other stocking off.

She rolled around through several very sexy poses as her appreciative
audience constantly encouraged her with compliments and suggestions for
poses.  After a few more shots she sat up and took upon herself the one
suggestion that no one had yet voiced.  She reached behind her back and
unfastened her bra. She giggled and Marty snapped away as it fell into her
lap, exposing her lovely little tits. Her nipples were already stiffly
pointing straight ahead.  Marty took a couple of steps closer and snapped
the last five shots on his roll of film.

As he quickly started reloading the camera, Sheila placed a glass of wine in
our gorgeous models hand and sat next to her on the sofa.

"You're looking fantastic!" she told her, "I can't wait to see how these
turn out."

"Do you really thinks so?" Cynthia asked her.

"Just look at the reaction you've caused in your audience!" she indicated
the growing bulges Kevin and I had in our pants.

"These pants are feeling a bit tight," Kevin chuckled.

Sheila nudged Cynthia playfully and then beckoned Kevin over.  As he
approach them, my wife reached up and stroked his cock through his pants,
then lowered his zipper, drawing his cock free.  Kevin didn't have a large
cock, but a respectable six-inch cock was suddenly inches from her face. She
was obviously developing some interesting instincts; she wrapped her mouth
around his cock and started blowing this stranger right there.  Marty raised
the camera, but Sheila motioned him off, unseen by Cynthia, mouthing "not
yet."


I approached Sheila, unfastening my trousers.  She readily took me into her
mouth and started sucking me with her skillful mouth.  I easily slid deeply
into her throat as I lunged gently forward.

"Can you take me in deeper?" Kevin asked her quietly.

She tried to accommodate, pulling him far into throat, then pushing him away
as she started to gag.

"Watch me dear," Sheila told her.  Under my wife's watchful gaze she easily
took me in to the hilt, backed off then deep throated me again.

"Just relax your throat, breath through your nose," she coaxed.

Cynthia tried again, with a barely more success. "Keep it up," Sheila told
her. "That's it. You're starting to get it.  Breath through the nose,
remember." My far too brief blowjob was quickly forgotten as she continued
giving Cynthia a lesson in the fine art of deep throating.  Her
concentration focused on the task at hand, Marty started discreetly taking
photos again.

She was starting to get the hang of it, but was still gagging occasionally.
Sheila made a suggestion. "Lie on your back here on this coffee table. Yeah,
just like that let your head hand back over the edge. Good, now it's more of
a straight line"

Kevin knelt in front of her so that his cock was level with her mouth as
Sheila sat down on the couch next to them to coach her pupil. Kevin was now
having an easier time slipping his cock in and out of her mouth, his balled
bounced off her nose each time he buried himself in her throat.

"Mike, I think a little distraction would help her relax and make things go
a little more smoothly." Sheila indicated the other end of the table and I
positioned myself between my wife's legs, unceremoniously pulling her
panties off. As I put my mouth to her cunt I found that she was already
quite wet. She wrapped her legs around my neck as I traced circles on her
sensitive clit with my tongue.  Kevin was now fondling her breasts as he
leisurely fucked her mouth. She started lifting her hips, mashing her crotch
against my face as I licked her most sensitive folds. She was starting to
get really worked up, moaning around the cock filling her mouth.

I decided she needed something a little more substantial than my tongue in
her pussy. I raised up on my knees and lifter her ankles up to my shoulders.
When I pushed my cock about halfway into her, it was like slipping into a
velvety warm glove. I pulled back out and grabbed on to her thighs for
leverage, then plunged myself slowly but surely in to the hilt as Kevin did
the same to her mouth.

We screwed her at both ends like that for a few wonderful minutes before
Sheila told us that the coffee table had to be getting rough on Cynthia's
poor back. She let out a whimper of disappointment as we withdrew our cocks
from their pleasant confines. We helped her off the table and pushed it to
the side as she dropped to her hands and knees on the floor. Sheila quickly
kicked off her shoes, shucked off her dress and sat down next to her wearing
a sexy black corset that lifted her full breasts up high, only half covering
her nipples, and pinching her waist to give her a delicious hourglass
figure. Cynthia raised her round ass into the air for me and I positioned
myself on the couch behind her and slipped my dick easily back into her
beckoning cunt.

In the reorganization, Marty had handed the camera over to Kevin and now
dropped to his knees in front of my cock hungry wife with healthy portion
for her. Sheila took his cock in her hand and guided it into Cynthia's
mouth.

I hadn't noticed her other hand before, but I suddenly realized that it was
beneath Cynthia's chest, tugging on her pert nipples.   To my knowledge, and
I know my wife's history pretty thoroughly, she had never had a sexual
experience with a woman before. Sheila had taken the bold step of initiating
contact and she didn't seem to mind at all. In fact she was reveling in the
all of the erotic contact. Sheila was leaning very close to her, talking to
her softly with her mouth nearly touching her ear as she continued to play
with my wife's little tits. I couldn't make out what she was saying, but
Cynthia was getting hotter and hotter.  She was grunting and moaning with
the thrill of this wild fuck, occasional intelligible words came out of her
mouth. "Yes, yes...ooh I like it...yes."

"He's a little bigger, but it's just the same," she softly coaxed in my
wife's ear. "That's it, relax your throat." She was already taking him most
of the way in.  He kept slowly pumping into her mouth, not forcing it, just
letting her take as much as she could. I was matching Marty's strokes
evenly, pulling out as he slid his cock into her throat, then filling her
cunt again as he pulled back out.

Suddenly, she pushed him away turning her head to Sheila. "Fuck!" she panted
I'm gonna cum already." I started fucking her a bit harder.  "Oh, oh yes,
GOD YES!" she bucked against me as she came, every muscle in her body
suddenly tensing, tensing, then falling loose. She dropped her head, puffing
for breath.

"First of many," Sheila told her with smiling encouragement. Marty urged his
stiff penis back at her face and she obediently opened her mouth to take him
in. "Just suck him for a while, don't try to deep throat him. Catch your
breath. That's it, use your tongue." She resumed her blowjob as her
enthusiasm quickly returned.

Kevin set the camera to the side and quickly stripped off his clothes. "Mind
if I cut in?" he asked, then whispered, "probably enough pictures for now."

I disengaged myself and moved to a chair a few feet away to sit and watch
the action for a while.  Kevin knelt down and went right to work, sticking
his dick into her and immediately fucking her with gusto. Sheila was still
sitting next to her, instructing and encouraging her. Marty had freed his
wife's tempting tits and was vigorously squeezing them as they bulged out
over the top of her corset. She had Cynthia sucking on Marty's balls now
while she stroked her husband's long shaft with her hand. She was rubbing
Marty's cock, slick with saliva, all over my wife's face as she eagerly
chased after it with her mouth and tongue. Kevin was really going at it
behind her now, energetically slamming into her.

"I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna fill you up," he told her.

Sheila quickly whispered a question in Cynthia's ear and she responded
loudly.

"No! I want him in my mouth!"

"Ask him."

"Cum in my mouth," she turned her head around, "Please, let me suck you!"

He hurried around in front of her and pointed his cock at her open mouth.
She leaned forward, trying to get her mouth on his nearly erupting volcano,
but he pulled back.

"Just open your mouth," he told her, stroking his cock.  In a few seconds he
came in a huge burst. She closed her mouth to hurriedly swallow his load as
his second shot splattered against her closed lips and across her cheek. She
quickly opened her mouth again to receive the rest of his milky white gift,
holding it open until he was completely done before trying to swallow again.

"Quit being so lazy, Mike," Sheila chided me. "Get back there and make your
wife cum again!"

Of course I obeyed, getting back into position behind my Cynthia and
slipping my thick cock into that warm channel where another man's penis had
just been.  I could tell Sheila was more forcefully toying with Cynthia's
nipples, causing her to arch her back and moan loudly in pleasure.  She took
two fingers and mopped up the stray semen from Cynthia's face and placed
them against her lips.  She willing opened her mouth and sucked on the other
woman's fingers, slurping the cum off them as she began to tremble, then
suddenly erupt in her second orgasm of the night.

 Sheila didn't let her rest for a minute. "I'll bet your husband would like
a blowjob, you haven't sucked him at all tonight.  I'll bet you're about to
cum, too, aren't you Mike?"

"Damn soon," I told her, still heartily fucking away. I looked over at
Marty, who had taken the break to strip down. "Take my place?"

"Don't think my knees will appreciate too much more of this kneeling," he
said a bit regretfully.

"Lie down," Sheila ordered him, tossing him a pillow from the couch. He got
on his back on the floor beside Cynthia. She crawled over and mounted Marty
while Sheila knelt right behind her, her hands on her hips guiding her
movements as she fucked Marty.

I stood next to them, my hips level with Cynthia's face. The way she
immediately turned and started sucking my dick seemed almost instinctual.
Kevin stood on the other side, his dangling cock showing some little sign of
returning to life. Sheila turned her head and began to work her expert mouth
on him; I was sure it wouldn't be long before he was rigid as iron again.

  I hadn't realized how close I was to cumming, but after only a few moments
Cynthia's eager mouth had me ready to blow, despite the surely wonderful
distractions the rest of her body was receiving.  I came and felt like it
was never going to stop.  I held her head in my hands as my juice flowed
copiously into her mouth, feeling the best orgasm I'd had in recent memory.
She dutifully swallowed, barely losing any of the fluid from the corners of
her lips in what was becoming a practiced skill.

I collapsed back in the chair, temporarily exhausted. Sheila's hands were
cupping my hot wife's diminutive breasts while her own full tits pressed
against her back. She bounced furiously on Marty's rod.  He had one of her
hands in his, pressing it against her crotch with her fingers working her
clit.  Kevin was alternating between Sheila's mouth and Cynthia's; between
the two of them they had managed to bring him nearly back to his former
glory.

"Here I cum," Marty told her between rapid breaths, "I'm gonna cum for you."

Sheila tried to pull her up, urging her off of him, "He's gonna cum baby,"
she told her, "take it how you like it, eat his cum for him."

"Yes," Cynthia moaned, but resisted. She was screwing him faster. "Yes! No!
God I'm cumming too!"

They came suddenly and loudly together.  Most of the volume was on Cynthia's
part. She screamed in pleasure as she came, with Marty pumping his cum deep
into her pussy as his wife forcefully pulled on Cynthia's sensitive nipples.
She finally collapsed in a heap on top of him, panting hard, her face buried
against his chest.

"Wow," she said weakly, her breath still not back.  "That...that was...I
think I...need to rest...for a while."

Kevin gingerly helped her to her feet.  As she took a step, she stumbled a
bit, falling into his arms.  He picked her up and took her to an oversized,
pillowy sofa and sat down with her across his lap. He helped her turn toward
him as he lay back, bringing her sweaty, glowing body gently on top of him.
She lay cuddling against this man she didn't even really know, both of them
naked. He placed his hand on his aroused cock and pushed it against the
hard-used entrance of her cunt.

"Wait," she protested, sounding tired. "I...I can't...I need to rest."

"Shh, it's ok," he soothed her as his staff slid easily up into her. "Just
lie still. We can just lie here like this." His hands tenderly caressed her
breasts. "This is nice, isn't it?"

"Mmm, yes."

"Help me unzip this, would you Mike," Sheila said, turning her back to me.

I crawled over and helped her remove her corset, leaving her in nothing but
her stockings. Marty was sitting up next to us now smiling.

"Having a good time, Mike?" he asked.

I just smiled.

"I think we should let them get acquainted for while," Sheila said, looking
over at Kevin and Cynthia. Then she got a mischievous look on her face. "I
know that leaves me with two cocks to revive, but I think I'm up for it."

 End Chapter 4

As always, any and all feed back is greatly(!) appreciated. Please email
comments, criticisms and suggestions to rumrunner2001@yahoo.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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