A Perfect Couple

I told him Gerhard Richter had done just that many times and that he was one of the world's greatest contemporary painters. Nevertheless, Keith went on and on, and finally I could not stand it any longer.

I confessed that Don had come over every day in the mornings, for five weeks from 7:30AM to 9:30AM, before I left for work, but while Keith was at work. Keith always went to work at the crack of dawn, but I began work at 10AM. I had posed for Don for two hours every morning. "What else did you do for him? Or he for you?" Keith suspiciously asked.

"After each modeling session he gave me one of his wonderful massages," I said.

"You were naked for the massage?" Keith asked.

I nodded, blushing.

"Was he naked, too?" Keith asked.

I nodded again, too ashamed to look Keith in the eye.

"And...?" Keith asked. I blushed some more. "And...?" Keith repeated, an insistence in his voice.

"And, after the massage, he wore a rubber and..." I had to stop speaking because Keith was kissing me, and kissing me with passion! Keith was on fire. Even though we were outdoors in the backyard, in under a minute he had me naked and was undressing himself.

"Keith, the neighbors!" I said. I found myself turned on by the remote possibility we might be seen. Mostly however I was turned on by Keith's ardor. This was only the second time I had ever seen him wanting me with this intensity!

"Privacy hedge," Keith grunted, as he roughly pushed me, naked, onto my back on the lawn.

"The Smythers' window on the second floor..." and Keith's mouth on mine shut me up once again, as he pushed apart my legs despite my effort to keep them closed and modest. God, Keith is strong! Luckily, I was already aroused because there was no foreplay and Keith plunged right on in. He gave me a powerful fuck, the rough sex I live for! It was every bit as good as The Great Fuck had been, and I could not control myself: My moans were loud!

As Keith pounded my brains out with his inflamed and angry cock, I saw movement in the Smythers' second floor window. We were being watched! That's when I knew I was just as twisted as my husband. Knowing the neighbors were watching our Second Great Fuck sent my arousal into the stratosphere!

I had another orgasm to join my top ten of all time. (The other eight were all from Martin Davis, except for one from Uncle Harry.) This from my erstwhile gay husband, too! Keith fucked me for a good half hour before he finally exploded, filling my womb with his eager cum. As he lay on me, breathing heavily, I told him, "Keith, that was wonderful. It was amazing. I love you."

I said to my husband, "Keith, you're not gay. You're bi. We just had to find your kink. You're turned on knowing Don's fucked me. Admit it; it turns you on."

Keith did not speak. He just looked at me. He looked puzzled, confused by his own behavior. I had the smile women get when a mystery is solved, and that mystery involves love. There's no smile like it. Keith reached into his pants' pocket and pulled out his phone. He had taken some pictures of my ravished, naked body in the back yard. In them, he had captured my smile. That's how I know about it. He had captured a lot more of me, too, naked on the lawn and full of his cum, but it was my smile that interested me.

After around five minutes Keith got off me. He left me there, lying nude on my back on the back-yard lawn, in full view of whoever was in the Smythers' window. My boobs were sagging to my sides, but my nipples still faced the sun. Knowing somebody was there in the window, checking me out, and possibly masturbating, turned me on something fierce. I wondered if it was Mr. Smythers himself? Or Mrs. Smythers? Women can be kinky too, can't we? Or was it possibly their teenage son? Wouldn't that be a hoot! I squirmed a bit at the thought as my pussy decided she liked the idea of someone getting off on our little show.

Now we had two paintings to hang, and the one of us fucking was not a painting one could hang in a room exposed to others. It had to be hung in the garage, or perhaps ultimately even more discreet, in Keith's mancave. We moved the one of me nude to our bedroom. Every time I looked at it I would recall all the times I had enjoyed having Don ravish my body, and especially the two Great Fucks that followed, given to me by my one and only true love Keith.

************

It was Keith's turn to host the boys for poker. These were men from his work. They were nice men, and surprisingly and amazingly two of them I knew from my previous schools. I knew Damien back in high school. He of course knew my slutty reputation in high school, even if he had never tried to date me. The other one was the infamous Martin Davis, my old great lover from college!

I couldn't believe it! Martin actually worked with my husband Keith? Of course, I had a different last name now, since I had married Keith, so he did not know I was Keith's wife until he saw me. Then he knew. Oh boy, oh boy, he knew. I was the girl who couldn't say no, and yes, we had fucked up a storm back in college. Keith didn't know that, and I wasn't about to tell him!

Then I thought, given what I now surmised, maybe I could tell him, after all? I decided though not to take the chance. All I told Keith was that I knew Damien from high school, and I knew Martin from college. I was the hostess for these poker games when they were held at our place, and this was our first time hosting the game.

I baked some treats (brownies, and tiny French style apple tarts) and gave the men their drinks, which were various types of beer. I served macadamia nuts, and they were a big hit. I had myself roasted and also salted pecan halves, and I served them, too. I don't know why you can't find them for sale already roasted, but you can't. Peanuts, smokehouse almonds, and cut up pieces of a hard cheese rounded out the snacks.

Back in my collegiate salad days, Martin had been a great fuck to be sure, and I was sexually enthralled at the time, but unfortunately, he had a cruel streak. He loved to humiliate me. His entire fraternity knew every detail of how I responded when he made love to me, or more correctly put, when we had sex.

He told them of how he made me beg for sex while stark naked, as he slapped my cheeks exhorting me to beg louder, and he had me promise to do all sorts of debauched behavior if only he would fuck me hard again with his nice, big cock. To say he enjoyed humiliating me was to put it mildly.

I'm not saying here what the debauched behavior was. Let's just say that the word 'debauched' is accurate. I found all this out the hard way. After a girlfriend of one of the fraternity brothers told me about what Martin was up to, we broke up. I cried for days over the loss, even if it was I who dumped him.

His 'friends' from his fraternity decided to try me out for themselves, and one after the other they tried to date me. After I barely escaped a date rape from the first guy, I just said no to all of them. It was a horrible time in my life, and now this same man Martin Davis was our guest at poker night.

I shivered privately as Damien looked at me as if I were a piece of meat, and Martin looked at me with a smile of evil lust. Thank goodness Keith was there to protect me! Nobody was a match for my Keith.

For the beverages I served, and please remember this is deep Indiana, Budweiser and Michelob beer. These were fine choices for the men, except of course for Richard. Richard always wanted a microbrewery beer; a different one it seemed every time the boys played poker. There's a 'Richard' in every crowd, isn't there? Keith had told me that the last time it was Dogfish beer; the time before it was a Christian Moerlein IPA. This time it was Warbird. Dutiful wife that I am, I had bought some, just for him.

Before poker night began, Keith and I had discussed my wardrobe choices for the event. Given what we had both discovered about Keith and how turned on he was when Don fucked me, it did not surprise me too much when he wanted me to wear a low-cut, thin, tight sweater. One could see the pattern of my lace bra right through the sweater, as my boobs pushed at the fabric.

I began to ruminate. Maybe it would be enough to inspire some bedroom activities if I just had some of his friends and colleagues ogle me? They might well do that, with me in that sweater and my tight skirt! I was up for enjoying another one of Keith's great fucks, now that I knew he could give them! Would the men leering at me be enough to get another Great Fuck out of my strange husband? I hoped so!

I had also learned that I had enjoyed it when I fucked Don in front of Keith, and subsequently Keith in front of Don, and also in front of whoever was in the Smythers' second floor window. I concluded I liked to be watched. I guess that was part of my own kink!

As for my wardrobe, Keith and I argued about it for two hours, and I figured two hours was enough to make me look reluctant, and I finally graciously bowed to my man's wishes and wore the low-cut thin sweater. Keith wanted me to skip the bra, too, but I said no to that, and rather strongly, too. Keith also had me wear a short skirt but I drew the line again, and insisted on panties underneath the skirt.

I'm on the short side, being only five feet, four inches tall. I wore heels, but still all the men towered over me. That gave them lots of chances to check out my lace bra encased boobs right through the sweater, or by down-looks since the V was a bit too extensive for proper modesty, or both, while we all mingled around before the card games began. Every single man, including my husband Keith, took the look.

I wondered if the men also wished that I had not worn a bra? Probably. Would they have liked to have seen my nipples, too? I guessed maybe so, but if they were curious about my nipples all they had to do was look at Don's painting hanging on the wall of our bedroom, hee, hee, where my nipples were rendered splendidly via hyperreal art! I had made sure to close the door to our bedroom before the party began.

The men played poker and I appeared from time to time with more snacks and lots of beer. I did not try to match them in their drinking, but I myself drank just a tad too much white wine. I was getting a nice buzz. Damien had folded early in one hand and came into the kitchen to talk to me about old times in high school.

"You know, I always wanted to date you in high school. I had fantasies about you, Susanna," he said at one point.

"Damien! What a strange thing to tell a girl!" I said.

"Oh, yeah, I suppose it is. Sorry, Susanna. You sure do look pretty tonight, though," he said.

"Why didn't you ask me out in high school?" I asked. I wanted to enjoy a bit the memory of being desired by all of those boys in high school. "I liked you, too, you know?" I added.

"I was too scared. You were so pretty and sexy, I figured you were out of my league. Now that we're older, tell me please, would I have stood a chance with you?" Damien said.

"If you had asked me out, I would have said yes, if that's what you mean," I said.

"I mean a little more, actually," Damien said, nervously. "You had a reputation, you know."

"You mean that I was a slut, who had sex with anyone who asked me out? Don't believe everything you hear, Damien. You let a couple of boys take some liberties and suddenly you're known as a whore, at least when you're in high school," I said.

"Yeah, I figured that," Damien said. "I never really could believe you were the slut your reputation made you out to be."

"Thanks, Damien. It's nice to hear that, even now, years later," I said. I was remembering how sweet Damien was in high school. He seemed to be sweet now, too.

"I confess, though, Damen. I'm sure that some of the stories you heard by and large are true, some of them anyway, and yes, I would have behaved the same for you, especially if you behaved nicely and respectfully. I liked you, Damien. I still do, of course," I said.

"I still like you, Susanna," but he did not mean it the way I had meant it. I became alarmed.

"I'm married, Damien, and so are you," I said as I looked at his wedding ring, as I gleaned his intentions.

"It's a pity, but I guess you're right. How about a kiss, though, for old times' sake? To show me what I missed?" he said.

"Damien! We're both married and while I may have been free and easy once, those days are long gone. I'm loyal to my husband," I replied. I had an edge to my voice too. You have to nip these things in the bud.

I saw Keith standing in the doorway, however, watching us and eavesdropping. I read his face, and I knew what he wanted. He wanted me to act with Damien as I had with Don. Keith gave me that smile I now knew to love, and I winked at him.

Addressing Damien, I said, "On second thought, sure, Damien, let's kiss for old times' sake. I'd like that." I saw Keith behind Damien. He was nodding, and smiling his smile of lust.

Damien was no longer a nervous and shy high school boy, as I found out quickly! We kissed and soon our mouths were open, our tongues were playing, and his hands were all over my body. He pushed my tight, short skirt up to my waist where, being so tight, it remained. He next pushed down my panties, all the while kissing me. I was now fully exposed below the waist and his fingers were caressing my pussy. This took less than thirty seconds!

I lubricated quickly with both his kissing and his fondling. When he inserted a finger inside me, still while we kissed, even I heard the squishy sounds. I felt however this was too much. I was going to pull away, but my eye caught Keith's.

Keith had a huge lump and was stroking his cock through his jeans, his eyes begging me to give Damien carte blanche. I thought about how good it was going to be when I got to fuck Keith, after the men left. I got super aroused at the thought, so I simply let Damien continue on kissing me and fingering me.

Having Keith watch me like that in obvious unbridled lust got me so aroused that in only minutes Damien's fingers made me climax. I broke the kiss, pushed Damien away and stumbled to a chair at the small kitchen table, trying to catch my breath. My mind was in a fog. I awoke from the fog when I heard Keith telling Damien they needed to rejoin the game.

Damien gave me a parting look with a huge smile and mouthed the words, "Thank you!" as Keith led him away from his happily molested wife. I noticed with shame as I sat there that my skirt was still up around my waist. When Damien looked at me in parting he had been staring straight at my exposed pussy! I shivered.

I felt good about having let Damien have his high school fantasy come true, although I imagine it was only Part I of his fantasy. I'm sure Part II involved me on my back, my legs spread, him on top of me, and you can fill in the rest. Well, one can't have everything in life!

I sat there for a while, recovering. I looked at my lovely, new lace panties lying on the floor where I had kicked them off when they descended to my ankles. I kicked them again, this time into a corner, and I decided to continue hosting Poker night without panties. Keith had wanted it, and nobody (except Damien and Keith) would know, anyway.

I went upstairs to use the bathroom, and to my horror I saw the door to our bedroom was wide open! Nobody was inside, and I quickly closed it. As I used the toilet I panicked, and ran to the basement where Keith's mancave was. Luckily it looked as if nobody had been down there. That's where Don's painting of Keith and me fucking was hung!

The painting was really quite good. Don's style was reminiscent of the Mexican master Omar Ortiz, who painted in a style known as minimalistic hyperrealism. Ortiz' painting of a nude known as "La Estampida (The Stampede)" seemed similar to me to Don's style. Don's rendering of Keith and me copulating, with my open mouth and glazed eyes, was about the most erotic painting imaginable. I was on all fours, my boobs hanging down, my nipples hard and long and pointing at the floor, as Keith's big cock was buried halfway inside me.

I got aroused yet again, looking at the painting, knowing Damien, Martin Davis, Richard and the others were upstairs playing poker and at least one of them had seen the picture of me nude that Don had painted, now hanging in our bedroom. I felt super randy, especially after Damien's expert fingering, and I decided to please Keith the way he had originally asked, and I removed my bra. Then I left the basement to resume hosting the poker night, leaving my bra on the floor, in plain view.

It was getting late, near 11PM, and I thought things would wind down soon. I had not counted on my arousal, and my nipples began practically to poke through my sweater, since I had removed my bra. The men all thoroughly checked me out, apparently not feeling the need to be either subtle nor discreet.

Richard was missing and I saw him returning from the toilet upstairs. As soon as he was back, George left for the toilet, too. The way Richard looked at me, I just knew someone, my money was on Martin, had told him, probably told all of them, to check out the painting of my nude body in our bedroom. I was sure it was not Keith who told them! But what if it was? What would that mean? Could Keith, the man I love and who loves me, do such a thing?

I wanted to hide my face in shame, but instead I managed to smile innocently.

At long last the men all left, after thoroughly leering at me as they did so. Martin lingered a bit, and said, "Kiss goodnight, Susanna dear? For old times' sake?"

I said, "No, Martin. Just go."

Keith said, "No, Susanna, give Martin a little kiss, like you did with Damien."

Why was he telling Martin I had kissed Damien? This was humiliating! Was that the point?

I just looked at Keith, incredulous. "Keith what are you doing?" I asked, as Martin began pawing at my sweater, trying to lift it above my boobs.

"I wasn't there for the 'old times.' Martin was telling some stories while you were out of the poker room. They sounded plenty interesting to me. Give him a kiss for his troubles. Where's the harm?"

"You know exactly..." and that's all that escaped from my lips before Martin's own lips shut me up.

Martin kissed me just standing feet from the door. I couldn't help myself. Blame it on body memory, perhaps, but in any event, I kissed him back just the way I had when we were lovers, three years earlier. He pushed up my sweater, exposing my naked boobs, all still while kissing me.

Martin raised the stakes when his right hand discovered I was without panties. He got this smile on his face that I knew all too well. I knew I was in serious trouble, but I had Keith right there to protect me, right? Right?? I pushed Martin away and said, "It's time for you to go."

Martin ignored me as I knew he would, but when he did, Keith with all his muscles and all his masculine authority, chipped in, "Do as the lady says, Martin. She's my wife and this is my home. It's time for you to go."

Thank goodness for Keith! Martin sneered at me, but he left. I pulled my sweater back down. Finally, Keith and I were alone in our own home, and I could relax. I went to the kitchen to prepare a nightcap for Keith, my hubby, my lover, my protector.

I came back with the drink to find Keith on the couch, smiling, looking at me with lust in his heart, and naked. "I brought you a drink, lover," I said.

"It turned me on to watch Damien molest you tonight," he said. "The way Martin looked at you drove me over the edge, too."

"Want to do something about it?" I asked.

Minutes later I was naked and was the ecstatic recipient of another of Keith's Great Fucks. We had found his kink, that was for certain! God, I loved it. This was our Fifth Great Fuck, and as it turned out, it was the most memorable, because when next my time of month came, my period was late.