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"Say, fellas," said Pete. "You know, since she is his old lady and all, it ain't really fair that he gets sloppy seconds, or thirds, or whatever it is."
"Yeah! Yeah!" they shouted out.
"What say, he gives it to her up the ass?"
"Yeah! Yeah!" they shouted out even louder.
A couple of men went over and took her by the arms, pulled her off the table and spun her around. Pushing her face down onto the table they spread the cheeks of her ass apart and began to poke their fingers inside her.
"What's the matter, mister?" one of them remarked. "Never fuck her up the poop chute?"
"Phillip, fuck me!" she cried out weakly, reaching back to grab for him. "Go ahead, just do as they say!"
Phillip looked around hopelessly as if he knew there was only one way to end all of this. The sight of her bent over, her skinny little ass spread far apart was turning him on. He rubbed his stiff cock on her wet pussy, collecting the sticky cum of these strangers and then placed it at the tight little rosebud of her anus.
"Phillip, fuck my ass!" she called out impatiently, for she too knew there was only one way to end all of this, this horrible and exciting scene that had stirred up feelings in her that she never knew were there, feelings that scared her but also brought her great pleasure.
Phillip slowly began to push his cock up her ass. She pressed back against him. To the cheers and shouts of the onlookers, they began what they hoped would be the final act in this play of debauchery. Slowly picking up speed, Phillip began to ram his way into the ass of his pretty young wife and she was going wild. She thrashed about the table, shouting out with pleasure; she pushed back against him with each stroke; she reached down to finger her clit, bringing on wave after wave of carnal delight. Her breasts wiggled furiously as they humped together, rebuilding the lovemaking that had made their marriage so secure and loving. Phillip could last no longer.
"Uh! Uh! Uh!" he grunted as he started to come.
Alisa could feel his semen shoot off deep inside her ass. She writhed in the extreme pleasure of the moment and then fell down spent and exhausted on top of the pool table. She felt Phillip lean forward almost as if embracing her once more. The men had grown silent. The music still played on and a couple of the men had already turned back to their beers. Billy came up and offered to help them, but Phillip brushed him away. Alisa grabbed her clothes and went with Phillip to clean up.
"Oh, Phillip, what are we going to do now?" she asked him as they slipped inside the men's room. Ever since she had known him, he had always been so wise and strong. He would know what to do.
"We're going to get cleaned up and we're going to get the fuck out of here!"
They started to do just that. Phillip helped her clean herself up, get dressed and rearrange herself as best as possible. As they timidly re-entered the barroom, a stranger entered the front door.
"Is there somebody waiting here for service?" the mechanic shouted into the bar.
"You're too late!" said Pete, the bartender. "Everybody here has already been serviced!"
