My Drunk Slut-Wife

As I sit here in my air-conditioned office I know that my lawyer is only a speed dial away but I still cannot bring myself to press that button. I have no idea why; divorce seems the only logical solution now but whoever said that the logical thing to do was the right thing to do?

She's embarrassed me before - my wife, Sheila, that is - and I've no reason to suspect that she won't embarrass me again, so why is it that I find myself unable to leave her? Maybe it's because our love runs deep; or maybe it's because I don't want to be by myself; or maybe - and this seems more likely - I just get a little bit out of the drunken, sluttish way in which she behaves!

As I've mentioned, she's shown me up many times before. Her choice of clothes care sometimes little better than "street corner hooker"style and she always adores the ogling stares that her lithe body and sharp features encourage from all around as she parades herself through a shopping mall or a hotel lounge. She has little or no concern for how this makes me feel and I am usually left walking a few paces behind her, my head down, in case someone recognises me. I have put up with this behaviour for several years now, but last weekend at a friend's wedding, things definitely got out of control!

The day itself was a little unseasonal for the time of year. A constant drizzle dampened the guests faces and a swirling breeze ensured that hats never stayed in place for very long. Originally, the actual ceremony was to be held in the open air in the bride's garden, but to save everyone the problems of wet clothes and mud, a small temporary marquee had been hastily erected.

After the minister had legalised the union between our friends, the whole congregation was moved into the main house for a reception and the marquee was left empty until it was due to be dismantled the following day.

As the reception started so my problems with Sheila began. My wife likes to drink. Actually, that's a little understating it; Sheila finds it hard to refuse a drink - especially vodka. The booze flowed freely during the afternoon and by 6pm I guess that she must have consumed around half a bottle. I know well from experience that to try and moderate her drinking is a mistake; when she is in the mood nothing will stop her. And that afternoon she was most certainly in the mood!

Several times throughout the afternoon and early evening I lost track of Sheila only to eventually find her, shoes and jacket off, dancing some wild, inebriated dance with any man that happened to be handy at the time. But this time it was a little different; the fast dances seemed okay, but as soon as a slow number oozed out from the sound system, her dance became much more intimate. I watched with growing annoyance as Sheila's arms wrapped themselves around a tall, dark haired man and her face nuzzled drunkenly into his neck. For his part, the young man seemed more than happy to flirt quite openly with her and made no attempt to hide the fact that his hands were at that moment firmly squeezing the cheeks of her ass through the tight fitting dress that she was almost wearing.

Every time that I started to make my way over to them, I was pulled back into one conversation or another by various groups of friends. I decided to try and ignore her, after a while the music would probably change again and the two would have to break up.

As the conversation in my group continued, I couldn't help but keep glancing over at my wife and her dance partner. The music did eventually change and so did they, but not the dance - they changed partners! The young man reluctantly disengaged himself from Sheila and left her swaying and a little unstable on the dance floor. I thought for a moment that this was a little inconsiderate until I saw the man's friend quickly replace him in my wife's arms. The first man returned to his position at the bar and I saw him laughing to yet another friend as they shared the joke. As I watched the man now dancing with and groping Sheila give his two mates a quick "thumbs up", It wasn't hard to work out what the joke was.

"Isn't that right, Danny?"

"Sorry?" I replied, I hadn't been following a word of the conversation to which I was supposed to be a part.

"Your firm is developing a new marketing section. Isn't that right?" My friend Lydia Wimslow repeated moving into my line of sight and blocking my view of the dance floor.

"Er... yes... yes, we are. "

"You should really read Jenny's resume," Lydia continued as she pushed her teenaged daughter forward, "She's just graduated business school with honours and looking for a position. That's right isn't it darling?"

"Yes Mr. Page. I got all my qualifications and... "

"Er... yes, Jenny... er.. Miss. Wimslow... good idea... make an appointment with my secretary... I'm sure that we... er... sorry, can you excuse me for a moment?"

Usually I would have been quite happy to stand and chat to the sweet eighteen year old that was trying to do her best to impress me, but I had lost sight of Sheila and I needed to find out where she was. I could hear Lydia Wimslow's words of contempt for such a rude man ringing in my ears as I strode off. I made a mental note to apologise to her and her daughter at a later date.

I scoured the main room downstairs fending off offers to join conversations and to have drinks with a wave of a hand. But as hard as I looked I still could find no sign of my wife. I glanced over to the bar where her dance companions had been earlier - no sign of them either!

Thoughts began to race through my head. It wouldn't have been the first time that the bitch had cheated on me, but with THREE guys and at a WEDDING?

Suspicion and paranoia running rife, I bounded up the stairs to the first floor. I stood breathless on the landing and listened. The music from downstairs drifted up to me but, apart from that, I could hear no other signs of life. Most of the doors were open and I peeked inside to check. Nothing. I began to feel a little more comfortable, perhaps I really was being paranoid, perhaps Sheila had just popped out for a breath of fresh air. Out, I thought. Outside! In a second all my fears came flooding back to me - I hadn't checked the marquee outside!

The persistent drizzle soaked my hair and dripped off my face as I watched the scene in front of me through the flap of the marquee. I felt unable to move as I watched my drunken, dark haired wife. She was as naked as the day she was born and greedily sucking one large cock while masturbating another to a rock-like erection. All my fears and paranoia were realised. All my worst nightmares had come true in that one, fateful moment.

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But, mixed in amongst the feelings of anger and disgust lay another emotion that I was finding difficult to come to terms with: Excitement. Yes, I felt horny!

Sheila's muffled sounds of lust were still audible above the patter of raindrops on the canvas roof as she lay over the lap of the guy she was sucking off. I noticed a third man behind her. Having just relieved her of her panties he was urgently probing her pussy and ass with his fingers as she continued her own, seemingly very pleasurable, tasks.

Sheila's muffled moans soon turned to gasps as the man behind her thrust harder and deeper with his digits. Her legs seemed to spread wider as he poked both her holes and her back arched as she climbed higher and higher towards what seemed like an inevitable orgasm.

As she came the man in the mouth put his hands on the back of her head and forced her face down onto his swollen member. I had never known Sheila to deep-throat before - at least, not with me - but the evidence was undeniable. Her whole body seemed to shake and tremble. Her naked toes curled up in an involuntary response and her slim, lithe frame suddenly went into an orgasmic spasm. Had her vocal chords been available for use, I am certain that her cries of ecstasy would have brought people running out from the main house.

"Let's see what her cunt feels like!" cried the guy who had just fingered her to orgasm. It seemed that Sheila was to be given no rest after her climax.

As my wife alternately sucked and jerked the two big cocks in front of her face, the third guy moved up behind her and, in one thrust, buried himself in her open snatch. Again, her cries were muffled by the smiling young man that was forcing his tool into her mouth and throat as she was shoved back and forth as the man began to frantically fuck her.

"Damn, Bitch! You cunt's so loose and wet I can hardly feel anything!" The man grunted after a few minutes, "Your ass any tighter?"

With a monumental effort, Sheila managed to pull away and release the cock from the deep confines of her throat.

"Oh yeah, baby" she slurred drunkenly, "do me in the ass, PLEASE!"

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With a quick change of position, Sheila was hauled up from the cushions that were scattered on the floor and lowered, a little too quickly, I thought, onto the guy's lap. Her legs remained lewdly spread wide open and I could see his cock pressing against her tight anus. My wife's moans were now becoming quite loud as her anal ring was penetrated and so the second guy quickly shut her up by forcing his weapon between her lips.

For a further ten minutes Sheila was butt-fucked and face-fucked my the three men in unison. They seemed to have no concern for her pleasure at all. It appeared that she was simply their fuck-toy to be used for their sole enjoyment.

As I continued to watch the orgy, I suddenly realised that I had been rubbing my own prick through the material of my pants. I was as hard as a rock and, feeling more daring than I thought I was capable of, I took a quick look around me before unzipping and releasing myself. My cock felt hot and hard in my fist as I slowly masturbated whilst continuing my voyeuristic adventure. I knew that I should really do something to stop what was happening, but I just couldn't do it. In honesty, I didn't want to - this was the most erotic thing that I had ever witnessed.

The man underneath Sheila was now thrusting his cock in and out of her back door whilst she sucked and jerked his friends. His fingers held her thighs wide open giving me a perfect view of her open, wet pussy and her engorged clitty that he rolled between his fingers causing her to shiver and groan around the cock in her mouth.

"If her cunt's too loose, what say we give her two cocks up there?" the first guy suddenly cried.

It sounded like a good idea to me and Sheila was certainly in no position to voice a protest.

With another quick change of position, my wife's legs were dragged as far apart as possible.

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With the man under her switching holes so that his cock slipped easily up into her pussy, her second lover straddled her hips and forced his own tool into the same cavity. Sheila screamed out as she fought to accommodate the impossible size that the two cocks presented. Her vagina was stretched to the limit and I could see her legs trembling as she was so brutally penetrated. Again, the third man made use of her mouth and throat by squatting over her face and ramming his solid meat between her lips.

I squeezed my own prick in my fist as I felt myself nearing a climax. In my mind I admired these plundering invaders for their stamina; it couldn't be many men who would be able to hold onto their cum for this long.

For several minutes I stood and watched as my wife's three lovers continued to ravage her body. My cock ached and throbbed and stuck out from my zipper like an iron pole. I so wanted to cum, but I was determined to see this through to the end - I wasn't going to cum until they did!

As if almost sensing my unheard plea for release, the man buried in Sheila's throat suddenly pulled out and held his cock firmly in his fist.

"Shit, guys! I think I'm gonna cum soon!" he cried.

Now with her windpipe unblocked, my wife gulped in lungfuls of air.

"Not inside me, please!" she gasped, almost begging, "I might get pregnant! Cum over me. I want all of you to cum on my face; in my mouth; on my tits! Do it now, please!"

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As all three men removed themselves from my wife's open and abused body, they congregated around her head. I joined their masturbation session as they tugged their long, throbbing dicks up and down in their fists. One man sat astride Sheila's chest and fucked his cock between her large breasts with the other two aimed straight for her face. Sheila's hands cupped and squeezed their balls as they began to cum.

Actually it was I that climaxed first. I just couldn't hold on any longer and held my breath as I reached the point of no return. I looked down to see my own cum oozing from the head of my cock and dripping onto the wet grass beneath my feet.

But Sheila's lovers were not far behind me. The man between her tits let out a deep, guttural moan as his seed splashed into her cleavage and at almost the same time the second, taller man released a virtual torrent of cum that streaked her face and matted her short dark hair.

"Oh yeah, bitch! Here it comes! Open wide!"

The last man's voice was a gasp through clenched teeth as her aimed his twitching weapon between Sheila's cum-stained lips. He pulled her head forward and stuck the long pole straight into her mouth as his semen filled her oral orifice and bulged her cheeks. Sheila tried to swallow, but as he rammed his weapon into her mouth the pressure forced the hot, white liquid to ooze from the corners of her mouth and dribble across her flushed cheeks...

The image returned to me again as I continued to think about my lawyer. I reached for the telephone but instead of hitting the speed dial button my finger pressed the intercom.

"Yes, Mr. Page?" came my secretary's voice.

"Janet, can you call Jenny Wimslow please and arrange for her to come in for an interview? Her number's in the Rolodex, I think. This afternoon at five would be okay I think. "

"Sure, Mr. Page. Good idea. We could certainly do with some extra help around here! I'll call her right now!"

It was a good idea, I thought, If she was any good I could hire her and get home to Sheila early for a change. She would certainly be surprised to see me and maybe she wouldn't be alone!

I smiled to myself.

"Oh, and Janet?"

"Yes, Mr. Page?"

"Order a dozen roses for my wife, would you? I wouldn't like her to think she was being taken for granted!"