A Perfect Couple

My period didn't come at all. A trip to the local CVS and a visit to the toilet revealed that what I had been longing for had finally happened! After a lot of discussion, we named our son Damien. After even more discussion we laid our plans.

After I finished breast feeding our baby boy, little Damien was asleep I called his namesake and asked if he could come over for a few minutes. I had arranged an excuse that Keith needed some papers from work that he knew Damien had taken home. The papers were too sensitive to trust to transmission via the Internet.

Damien came over. We told him we named our son after him and he was both puzzled and flattered until I explained that Keith had watched him molest me that poker night around a year earlier, and it inspired the sex that led to the existence of our son. Also we both liked the name Damien.

"If you're still interested in Susanna, well, we think Damien needs a sister," Keith said, looking Damien squarely in the eye.

One of the nice features about Damien is that no further explanation, or even discussion, was needed. Damien led me to our bedroom. He was captivated by Don's hyperreal painting of my nude body. Don had in fact been inspired by Omar Ortiz' famous 2016 painting La Estampida (The Stampede). Damien almost lost interest in my naked body right there, he was staring so intensely at Don's majestic rendering of me.

Keith had pointed out that I bore a remarkable resemblance to the model Ortiz used in that painting, and he used her in many of his paintings. I was flattered, because she was gorgeous, not just her body but also her face! I'm a blonde and she's a stunning brunette, but otherwise Keith was right. I really did resemble her!

When I tore Damien's eyes away from the stampede to my own naked body, I was in the exact pose Don had used to paint me. Damien was surprised I had become naked for him, and he just stared at my body. He looked at the painting, then back at me. I thought he was going to drool!

"Let's have some fun. Do you want to pretend we're still in high school and this is the exciting end of our date, and you just got me naked?" I said.

I am a bit of a tech wizard and indeed it's needed for my career to be one. I had hidden video cameras all over our bedroom strategically placed for maximal viewing if we were to have sex in the middle of the bed. It was all set up so that Keith could watch it live on our TV in his mancave in the basement, complete with sound. Of course, it was automatically recorded so that we could use the video for future inspirations, too. Damien had no idea of this.

My favorite camera placement was inside the eye of my teddy bear. Mu cousin Dave's father, my Uncle Harry, had given me that bear as a memento of our tryst together, back when I was eighteen. That's a whole other story, and it happened long before I met Keith. Indeed, since I had met Keith my casual attitude about sex had changed, and I was a happy and loyal wife, except of course for the times with Don, and now with Damien.

Damien agreed to my game. He pretended he was as innocent as he had been in high school. "Susanna, I've heard all sorts of things about you," Damien began.

"You shouldn't believe everything you hear," I replied.

"Mike said you gave him a blowjob. Is that true?" he asked.

I opened up his pants and pulled out his cock, which was as hard as a rock. I gave it a few quick, loving sucks. "What do you think?" I asked.

"Steve told me you let him do you up the ass," Damien said.

"Is that what you want, Damien?" and I turned to show him my ass and pulled my cheeks apart to show him my little brown flower.

"No, I want what Chris says you gave him," Damien said.

"Chris got nothing from me!" I said in an angry voice. "If he told you otherwise, he's lying."

"Okay, sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," Damien said.

"Maybe you want what David got?" I asked.

"David never mentioned anything," he said.

I smiled. "I always liked David. Good for him. He took it slow, you know," and as I spoke I slowly inserted a finger inside my pussy. "Mmmm," I said, as I slowly pumped the finger in and out. "Of course, David didn't use his fingers... you get my drift?"

"I guess I'd like both what you gave Mike and especially what you gave David," Damien said.

"Greedy lad, aren't you? Let's see how fast I can make you cum," I said, and I swallowed his entire cock. It tasted nice. I think I knew from the smell what kind of soap he washed with (Dove). Damien was not really in high school, though, and I guess his wife also blew him, so he lasted a good ten minutes before I could get him to unload down my throat. He played with my boobs as I blew him. I love it when a man does that.

We talked about high school for another twenty minutes or so and then without warning Damien pushed me down on my back. He spread my legs. He found no resistance from me. He tested the waters with a finger, put on a rubber, and then he climbed up and into position. His cock poked at my entrance and he looked me in the eyes. I smiled and nodded my head.

Damien was finally getting from me what he had wanted since he was around sixteen. After eight years of desire his cock was finally inside his original object of teenage lust! He pumped inside me like a man possessed, staring incessantly at my face, a look of disbelief combined with erotic pleasure, highlighted by extraordinary excitement, covering his face.

I knew this was a dream come true for Damien and he was enjoying fucking me to the max. For me however it was erotic in the extreme. I had known Damien liked me in high school, but he never made a move, never asked me out, never tried to kiss me, and so I assumed we were just good friends. Now to realize he had been lusting after me for eight long years turned me on something fierce! It's a thrill for a woman to get laid by a man who had silently lusted for her for what, in essence, amounts to an eternity!

I wanted to put on a show, both for him and the fruition of his lust filled dream, but especially for my husband the voyeur! The problem was that I could barely keep up with him. I wished he had laid me back in high school! If he was back then anything like he was now, he would have been my best! I really loved it, and he could tell, I'm sure, by my moans and happy gibberish as his cock gave me the type of pummeling my bad girl persona truly loved. Hell, my bad girl persona had come not just to want it, but to need it. He was great!

I hoped Damien was not disappointed. I suppose it's likely for a man to be disappointed after having wanted something for so long and now actually to have it. Reality only rarely can match fantasy.

Luckily though, Damien was not disappointed at all. He even told me he loved me when he squirted inside me. I knew of course he loved his wife Doris, not me, but it was nice to feel that our copulation was so good for him that it drove him to proclaim his love in the throes of passion.

Keith didn't wait, and as soon as Damien shot his load into his rubber and finally pulled out of me, Keith ran upstairs from his mancave. He jumped into Damien's place and he gave me yet another Great Fuck! Once again, Keith did not even give me time to recover from the first fuck!

Damien's fuck was delicious, to be sure, but Keith's? Oh, my goodness I'd bet our net worth it was the best fuck in Southern Indiana of the week, the month, and maybe the entire year! It was even better having Damien watch, as he did, with his lust filled heart.

I was wasted after the two fucks and a blowjob, so Keith said, "Damien, before you go, since you like the painting of our little Susanna so much, let me show you the other one of her, that I have down in my mancave."

Keith led Damien down to the basement and his mancave. Damien looked at the painting a long time. Keith enjoyed the next night, when we were in bed together, telling me how much fun it was to see Damien at work the next day. Damien's wife Doris called the very next evening. I was terrified when she called. Did she know? Had Damien confessed his infidelity?

I guessed not, because all she did was to invite Keith and me over to a cookout the next Sunday afternoon.

"I've heard so much about you, Susanna. I guess Damien had a crush on you in high school," Doris told me over the telephone. "I'm eager to meet the woman who was my husband's teenage crush. I'm I hoping you can come, and that you'll tell me Sunday what he was like back then? I'm sure you have a different perspective than what his mother tells me!"

I assured Doris that I certainly did.

My period came early a few days later, and I surmised Keith had not managed to knock me up again the night I fucked Damien for him. I had mixed feelings. I was disappointed I wasn't yet pregnant for a second time, especially after the 'sacrifice' of fucking Damien to inspire another of Keith's Great Fucks, but on the other hand I was looking for more situations to inspire Keith some more.

When Sunday came around, I learned that Doris had also invited Martin Davis and his wife Ellen to the cookout. We were six altogether, and I was in the strange position of having at one time or another fucked all three of the men, Keith and Damien of course quite recently.

It was awkward negotiating my interactions with both Damien and Martin, in front of Keith and their own wives, Doris and Ellen. Both Damien and Martin kept trying to get me alone and whenever they succeeded they each felt me up. I'm ashamed that I did nothing to stop either man. Luckily, they were scared to be seen by anyone else, so the feels were self-limiting. It did not help however that I was wearing a T shirt and a short jean skirt. I would not have stood a chance had I not been wearing a solid bra that served as my Maginot line.

I remembered what happened to the French in the second world war when the German blitzkrieg went through Belgium and bypassed the Maginot line, invading France from behind it. My Maginot line stopped Damien, thank goodness, but nothing was going to stop Martin's blitzkrieg! He just pushed my bra up off my boobs and went to town, as I softly groaned.

Once Martin was almost discovered molesting my submissive, naughty self, he left me alone for a while. I sought the safety of having a prolonged discussion of my sanitized memories of both Damien and Martin with Doris and Ellen. Ellen it turned out knew I was a former lover of Martin's, back in my college days. Doris was embarrassed she had unwittingly invited us all to the cookout, saying apologetically how sorry she was for creating an awkward situation.

Ellen reassured her and said she was thrilled finally to meet me, since she had heard so much about me. The way she smiled at me, and surreptitiously winked at me too, I felt sure Martin had told her how I had been his submissive little sex toy in college. I wondered if she played my former role with him now? Leopards don't change their spots, and if ever there was a leopard, it was Martin. It was fun thinking of the seemingly proper Hoosier Ellen as Martin's slutty little sex toy!

My suspicions were confirmed by two remarks Ellen made during the evening. At one point Ellen whispered to me, "Martin told me how much fun the two of you had a few years ago, some of the things you got up to. I must say I'm impressed."

Another time Ellen told me, "Susanna, you're one of the few people who could understand how wonderful it is to be married to a man such as Martin." Ellen said that with love in her eyes. It was clear she considered me to be a potential confidant. Actually, such a relationship sounded like fun to me.

Hanging out with the girls reduced the tension and I relaxed and enjoyed myself, having a few too many of the delicious mojitos Damien served up. When the cookout ended it was Ellen who proposed the four of us (Martin, Keith, Ellen and me) go out for some more drinks, not easy to do in a small town in Indiana on a Sunday. We had a choice between a girlie bar a few miles outside of town in the near country, or going to our place, or Ellen and Martin's.

Keith and Martin argued for the girlie bar, but Ellen and I convinced them to come to our place. Ellen in particular was adamant, so I backed her up. I promised to show them Don's hyperreal painting of me, and when Keith pointed out I was nude in the painting, that convinced everyone. We all had drinks, made some small talk, and then Keith took Martin to our bedroom to show him the painting.

"How does her body compare now to what you remember, Martin? Susanna told me all about your affair from a few years ago. I think she fell for me on the rebound from you, in fact. Thanks, bro. She's wonderful," Keith told me he said to Martin.

Martin replied, "She's beyond wonderful, Keith. She's the best I've ever had. You're a lucky guy!"

The two men were quiet, looking at the painting, when Martin finally said, quietly and in a conspiratorial voice, "Forgive me for asking, Keith, but would you ever want to share?"

Keith said he just smiled, saying, "Let's go join the women."

The men found us in the basement, in the mancave. We had been watching them via my closed-circuit television. It was off when they found us, and we covered out sinful espionage by studying Don's hyperreal painting of Don fucking me. Martin was left speechless by the painting, a rare event for him.

Ellen and I had been sharing submissive sex stories, and we left to go to the kitchen ostensibly to prepare some snacks, but really just to continue our female bonding and to discuss sex. I confessed to Ellen I wanted to fuck her husband while my own husband watched. "You can watch with him, if you like?" I added to sweeten the deal.

"Can I fuck Keith, Susanna?" she asked.

"Maybe later. I want him to fuck me after Martin does. It turns him on, and I want a second child, you know?" I said.

All this was a bit much for Ellen, but I told her how turned on she would be, and while I would not let Keith fuck her, he could do everything else while they watched us. Then maybe he could fuck her later, after he had royally fucked me?

I had to continue to describe just how Keith might molest her, and how erotic it was to watch another woman, a former lover at that, fuck her husband, and how much it might mean to Martin (okay I was fibbing about that!) to fuck me again, in order finally to convince her this would be fun.

"How do you know he still wants you? I give him all he can handle," Ellen said.

"Maybe he doesn't," I said, deliberately leaving out how he molested me at the cookout. "I guess this way we'll find out, won't we?" That's when the men walked in. I'm sure we had guilty faces.

Keith began talking with Ellen as they discussed the painting hanging in front of them. It was a painting that's hard to ignore! That left me and Martin alone, and I backed up into a corner, a little afraid of Martin, as he followed me, lust burning in his eyes. As I backed away, I heard Ellen whispering to Keith, as she stared at the painting, "Is your cock really that thick?"

Martin was now up against me. He held me and it was just the way he held me when we were lovers. I could not help it; call it body memory, but my constant lust for Martin from our earlier times together rushed back into my head and I became a helpless bowl of jello in his arms.

Only minutes later, with Ellen and Keith still discussing Omar Ortiz and what Don had done to complete that painting of Keith fucking me, Martin was removing my bra. He had already removed my top. Keith was showing Ellen the video of Keith fucking me, which I had programmed to stop on the exact still Don had used in his painting, and as they watched Martin was removing my jeans skirt.

I had worn real panties, not a thong nor a G string, and there I stood, in Martin's arms, vulnerability incarnate as I was dressed only in panties. Martin was kissing me as his hands ran all over my back, and I was kissing him right back. He pulled away from me, and holding me fixed with his staring eyes, I was somehow incapable of neither speech nor movement as he undressed down to his own briefs. My eyes were locked on his.

I felt Keith and Ellen turning around and seeing us undressed, and Keith led Ellen to the overstuffed chair in a corner, sitting down and pulling Ellen down onto his lap. Ellen was a small woman, like me, but unlike me with my large breasts, she was perfectly proportioned, having the hourglass figure of which men's wet dreams are made. Minutes later she too was in her panties.

Keith removed his pants and shirt and undershirt, and when he had only his briefs on, he pulled Ellen onto his lap. I just knew, call it intuition, that Ellen was going to give him a lap dance as they watched Martin and me, but just then they were lost in a classic lip lock.

"Your panties are wet, my little slut," Martin said, using the phrase that always got me going back in college. "Let's take them off before you get a rash."

I knew Martin was going to tease me, denying me his cock as long as possible. That was his style. He began to kiss me while playing with my tits. I groaned. The way we were positioned I could see Keith and Ellen. Sure enough, Ellen was squirming on Keith's lap, giving him one hell of a sexy lap dance. I wondered if Martin had discovered her working in a girlie bar, or something. That sounded like Martin's style.

I had an epiphany. Martin had of course found Ellen dancing in a girlie bar! It was Martin who had proposed the girlie bar for a drink. I thought that was strange at the time, but knowing Martin as I do, he had to have been tormenting Ellen with her past, an inside tease if you will, making her squirm that he might reveal to us her sordid past. I idly wondered if she had turned tricks, too?

Suddenly and foolishly I was jealous of Ellen, as I saw her continuing to give my beloved husband Keith the best lap dance imaginable.

Martin commanded my attention as he ripped off his briefs and manipulated our bodies do that he could finger me while I gave him a blow job. Martin didn't know I had learned to deep throat, and I kept that a secret, giving him a wonderful blow job even without swallowing his entire schlong.

I heard loud moaning. When I looked up and over at my husband, Ellen and Keith were now both naked, and Keith was eating her out and God almighty was she enjoying it! It occurred to me that Martin had never eaten me, and probably Ellen was starved for cunnilingus. I also noticed Keith's cock was as hard as a rock.

"My hubby is showing your wife a good time, my little cuckold former lover," I teased Martin. "How does it feel, sucker?"

Martin had the reaction I knew he'd have, only I underestimated the degree. He picked me up in the air, my legs kicking, my naked body writhing in his grip, and he tossed me as if I were a child's toy onto the day bed we kept in the mancave. I could have been injured he did it with such force, with such power. Instead of injury I got soaking wet from the rough treatment.

Martin came to me, his hand around my neck, and he jumped on me, viciously spreading my legs even though I had tried to keep them together, and as he choked me speechless, he plunged his cock inside me the way a soldier locked in mortal battle might plunge a knife into his enemy. Even while being choked I managed to emit a small moan as he at long last entered me.

The viciousness of his fuck, plus my body memory, transported me back to my college days. I couldn't breathe as he fucked me, but my arousal was rising fast. Would I climax, pass out, or both? As it turned out, it was both. I lost consciousness right after I had a climax the size of Montana. When I came around, Martin was still, his hard, erect cock still inside me, and Keith was towering over me looking worried. Ellen was crying in the corner.