Fucking the Blind

And her face, oh how beautifully sinful... it's covered in so much jism that it looks like it's melting. She doesn't even look like herself anymore! I have the perverse urge to take a Polaroid snap-shot of her.

Her face-mask of cum would make her completely unrecognizable to say her mother or her father. Because they hadn't been here to see her get gangbanged like I had. If I hadn't been here to witness it all for myself, I don't think even I would be able to tell this was my dear, innocent, doting wife. No, not with her face plastered with so much gooey sperm like this...

But I had watched it all. And I know it's her -- my dirty fucking slut-wife, her face drenched with the ejaculate of God knows how many men.

I make my decision to take the snap-shot. I grab my camera from my nightstand drawer and take a nice close-up of Vivian's face. In the morning, I'll mail it to her parents... with no return address of course. They'll gasp when they open up the envelope and see this photo... but they'll have no clue that the woman in the picture is their sweet, loving baby-girl.

"Oh, Vivian," I whisper, leaning in close and almost kissing her on the forehead, "you're covered in so much cum. It's so beautiful... I wish you could see yourself right now."

But she doesn't answer. She's sleeping. Finally satiated.

I make it a point to remember to send a special gift to the guy who sold me the drug. It worked better and longer than I could have ever imagined. It had truly awoken the seductive whore within my darling, faithful Vivian.

But... what about tomorrow morning? The drug dealer had said there was no way a person could remember what transpired for several hours after taking the substance. But what if Vivian did...?

What if she DIDN'T forget everything just like the guy said she would...?

My God... what if she remembers?! And what if she contacts the police?! There'll be an investigation about the break-in... and the rape! How could I keep a straight face when they interrogate me about this? They'll know I orchestrated the whole thing...

*****

At breakfast, sipping my coffee, I actually flinch when Vivian enters the kitchen as fresh as a daisy and sweetly announces, "Wow, that was some night!"

I put my game-face on.

"What, uhhh, do you mean, honey?"

"You must have fucked me a million times last night," she says, flashing me a smile and sitting down across from me with a mug of coffee.

I smirk, knowing everything is going to be fine.

"What makes you say that, dear?"

She bats her eyelashes at me. "Because, David, when I woke up this morning, I had your cum glazed all over me."

"Yes," I say, "I was quite... horny..."

Vivian gives an adorable little laugh.

"I'll say, it took me half an hour in the shower to wash it all off. Oh, and the sheets are completely ruined, thank you very much."

"I'm so sorry, sweetie, I was just... so horny."

"Unfortunately," she says, looking up into space, "I don't remember all of it..."

I raise my eyebrows at her.

"I don't really remember much of anything, come to think of it..."

"Do you remember the restaurant?" I ask.

She blushes because she can't remember. "My God," she giggles, "how much wine and champagne did you let me drink, David?"

*****

When I return home from work the following Monday, I'm somewhat confused as to why Vivian isn't in the kitchen to greet me hello as usual. Her car is in the driveway... but where is she?

I begin to roam around our big house, looking for her. I start to think about what a relief it is that she still doesn't remember anything that occurred last Friday night. It's already been three days now. If she hasn't remembered anything by this point, it's safe to say I'm totally in the clear.

But still... this is strange... where is she? Why doesn't she answer when I call out her name? Is she in the bathroom upstairs?

I climb the stairs, and as I reach the top step... I hear something.

It's coming from the bedroom.

What is it...?

Is that... moaning...?

As I open the door, the sight I behold is completely surreal.

There in broad daylight is Vivian... naked on our bed. She is surrounded by six... seven... no, EIGHT nude men, all of them fondling her body, touching her wherever there's a open spot on her soft, tender flesh.

"Vivian?!" I gasp, "what, what on earth... are you doing?"

My wife pulls a thick throbbing prick from her lips and looks at me. The glazed slut-look from Friday night is back in her eyes.

"Oh baby, that was the best anniversary present you could've ever given me the other night."

I walk closer to the bed and see there's a man's face buried in Vivian's hot, wet crotch. She has her hand on the back of his head, making sure he can't escape from the seductive scent of her twat.

I look at the other men surrounding my wife, waiting their turn to please her, and get pleased BY her. There's a knot in my throat and I try to swallow it down. My cock, bulging in my trousers, is utterly rock solid.

"Vivian," I whisper in disbelief, "where did you find all of these men?"

She pulls the cock from her mouth and strings of saliva and pre-cum go everywhere.

"Just down at the grocery store," she says, looking me deep in the eyes. "Oh, and you know Mr. Richards from next door. Since his wife is away for the week, I asked him if he'd like to join our little party."

She goes back to pleasuring the plump, juicy prick with her lips. I look up at the man's face... the man that Vivian is sucking on... and there's my neighbor -- Paul Richards -- with his dick sliding in and out of my wife's mouth.

Vivian moans all over his big boner. I know that moan... she's getting ready to orgasm.

She lets the dick slip from between her lips again, and she looks over at me.

"Take off your pants, David. I thought this time I can get gang-fucked WITHOUT the blindfold."

"Oh, Vivian," I gush, feeling my entire body tremble with desire. "I love you... I love you..."

"And I love you too," she coos in her sweet, cutesy, little voice. "Now get over here on the bed and watch me cum."