A Work in Progress Ep. 05

Episode V: Right Place at the Right Time

Rhonda realized that it was getting close to the prearranged time her and Greg had chosen to end her little party with the teenage boys.

She asked Big Brody to round up the other three and put away the gardening tools and head out before her husband got home, to which he readily agreed.

She'd tried to make it sound as if Greg didn't have any clue about the debaucherous shenanigans that had been going on at his house all day. But the gleam in the tall 18 year-old's blue eyes and his evil grin told her that he wasn't really buying it.

Her suspicion was confirmed when Brody spoke next.

"Coming home to reclaim you, is he?"

She chortled before answering.

"Jesus! All that access to free porn these days really has robbed teenagers of their innocence, hasn't it?"

"After a day like today, I'd say innocence is overrated."

Rhonda encouraged Brody to play along and to make sure that the others did also. He reassured her that they would.

"And please don't tell anyone about this. At least not any local friends. Wait till you're all off to some far away schools for that, and even then, don't tell anyone I'm a teacher, please." she quickly added.

"Oh shit! You're a teacher? I didn't know that."

Brody had been leaving the bedroom before this revelation stopped him dead in his tracks. He turned and, for maybe the hundredth time, looked Rhonda up and down lecherously.

"I've never had a teacher that looked like you." he declared appreciatively.

She was still buck naked save for the various fluids that were drying on her bare skin. It was actually her intention to stay that way until her husband got home. And not just for him.

While she really didn't want the four boys who'd just gang banged her to brag all over town about it, she also didn't want them to forget about it, so she was determined to see them off in her birthday suit. Rhonda felt it would be a fitting bon voyage.

"Well, you might have looked at me differently when you were in third grade." she said.

Then she slapped his solidly muscled ass to move him along.

The large boy, fully a foot and a half taller than her, disagreed with her position but headed out of the bedroom without further delay.

Once the boys had tended to the gardening equipment, they all met in the foyer of the big house before leaving. Rhonda again found herself nude and surrounded by the fully dressed guys. In spite of her exhaustion, this still turned her on.

Wholly by accident, she said her goodbyes to each of them in the same order that they had penetrated her.

Little Alex was the first. Rhonda wrapped her arms around his slight shoulders, only an inch or two above her own, and kissed him warmly. The sweet young man thanked her before stepping towards the door.

Then came Kip, who got himself two handfuls of her generous butt cheeks during his hug and kiss. She took another opportunity to stroke the dark stubble of his buzz cut in return.

Next up was the ever enthusiastic Steve with his long mop of surfer, blond hair. Handsy as always, although it seemed his fixation with her ass had been satiated as he mainly occupied himself with her E cups before, during, and after their kiss.

"I've got to tell you something." Steve said seriously, while he still held each of her breasts in each of his hands.

"Yes, dear." she coaxed.

"I am like so totally and completely in love with you. And I mean that in the dirtiest and cheapest way possible. I'm going to be jerking it while I think about you for the rest of my life, or at least until my memory goes or I can't get it up anymore."

Rhonda and the other boys all laughed.

"You know," she began, "in a weird way, that's one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me."

Finally it was Big Brody's turn. He bent down and grabbed two big handfuls of milf cheeks himself, but he used them to lift Rhonda up to almost eye level with him.

She squeaked like a teenage girl on her way up and then put her arms around his corded neck. They kissed warmly and when their lips parted, Brody nuzzled his face next to her ear and whispered.

"I would ask if I'll ever see you again, but I can guess the answer."

Rhonda, her bare feet dangling over a foot off the floor, patted the side of the young man's face before whispering back.

"I don't think that's how this works but who's to say for sure."

Brody pulled his head back and gave her another peck on the lips before depositing her lightly back onto the floor.

One of the guys opened her big, wooden front door and they began to file out. Rhonda followed them to the stoop just outside.

Her nearest neighbor was almost a mile away behind a stand of trees and the road her house sat on, while public, was sparsely traveled. Still, it was yet another thrill to be standing in her driveway nude and in broad daylight waving bye to the four 18 year-olds who'd just fucked her literally senseless.

The boys all took long lingering glances back at her while climbing into their car, just as she had expected. Rhonda sincerely hoped that she'd filled their spank banks good and full. Once they had pulled out onto the road and slowly drove away, she went back inside and waited for Greg, her husband, to return.

She didn't have to wait long. Not 15 minutes later, Greg strolled into their bedroom to find her, still naked of course, laying in the middle of their marital bed. The sheets were rumpled and damp yet.

Greg was the first to speak.

"Whoa. It smells like an orgy in here. Or, at least what I imagine one would smell like."

Rhonda only smiled in reply.

He surveyed his wife's body.

Her hair was bedraggled as if she'd just woken up from a long night of active dreams. Both of her large breasts sported faint but obvious bruises from pinching fingers and biting teeth. Her knees were slightly skinned and dried, flaky cum was clearly visible all around her upper thighs and matted into the tight patch of her dark pubic hair.

"So," he continued, "what exactly have you been up to today?"

"Well, you'd think that a man who'd spent like a week and a half installing, I don't know how many, little cameras all over the house, would be fully aware of what his wife has been up to. Haven't you got it all on tape, ready to review?"

Greg chortled before responding.

"I haven't had the time to edit it into a greatest hits reel yet but believe me, I will be working on that very soon."

He stepped closer to the bed and unzipped his pants. With a bit of squirming, he managed to pull his dick and balls out of the opening.

"Now normally," he began, "I would want to hear your side of the story, in all its gory detail, but since I've had a rock hard cock for the better part of five hours now, I just want you to get over here, bend over the bed and answer a few questions."

Rhonda instantly complied.

As well fucked as she had been, she'd gotten worked up again waiting and was eagerly anticipating this.

Once she had assumed the position, Greg noticed that she also had a welt on her left ass cheek that was vaguely shaped like a hand. He covered this battle scar with his own left while his right hand guided his aching rod into Rhonda's soaked and stretched out pussy.

They both moaned and she grabbed handfuls of sheets in her hands again.

"First question:" he began, his voice tremulous with excitement, "What did you do with those teen boys I sent over here today?"

"Oh, I was a bad girl again."

"Specifically, what did you do?" Greg asked, somewhat more firmly now.

"Oh, I was a very bad girl."

Rhonda wanted so desperately for her husband to pound her. In fact, part of her was relieved by the fact that she wanted that from him even more than she'd wanted Big Brody to have his way with her earlier. But still, she wasn't going to make it easy for Greg.

"Did you let those boys touch you?"

Greg grasped both sides of her ass now and drove his cock slightly deeper into her causing her to grunt.

"What did you do? Tell me. TELL ME."

"I made them fuck me!" Rhonda cried.

Greg growled and grabbed both of her arms at the elbows. He pulled and tore the sheets from her grasp. He used her arms as handles, almost like the reins of a horse, to pull her into him and drive his rod as deep as he could. She yelped in return.

"All four of them?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Did you let them cum in you?" he demanded.

"Yes!"

"Where?"

"One came in my ass, two came in my pussy and one came in my mouth and on me."

With the leverage Rhonda's arms provided, Greg began pounding her as hard as he physically could. Harder than he ever had in his life. They were both intoxicated with the feeling of it but they knew it wasn't going to last long.

After roughly a dozen pumps, Rhonda began a growl that rose to a howl that finally evolved into a scream that Greg quickly joined. With one last massive plunge, he began unloading the worst case of blue balls he'd ever had into his wife's used cunt.

Once spent, he staggered back a couple of steps and admired his handiwork. A great glob of pearly white semen rolled out of Rhonda and landed on the carpet between her trembling feet with an audible plop.

As Greg stood swaying slightly, an unexpectedly tangential thought popped into his head: if they were going to keep behaving this way, they really should think about getting hardwood floors.

Later, as they lay naked together in their soiled bedding, he mentioned this to her and they laughed harder than they had any reason to.

"So, how the hell are you going to top this?" Rhonda asked, after they recovered.

"Mm." was Greg's only response.

"I mean, unless I'm off the hook now. I may have said that I would do anything you wanted to make it up to you but in my defense, I didn't say I would do anything forever."

"No, no. Not off the hook yet." he replied, with an appropriately sinister tone.

Rhonda caught herself before saying, "Good!"

She didn't actually think showing her enthusiasm would have bothered Greg but every conversation on the subject was new territory. It certainly seemed to her that, at least feigning, reluctance to do her husband's bidding was part of the game, but she wasn't willing to bet against it being a necessary part. Besides, she'd had a great deal of legitimate reluctance before both of their outings. Especially today's. All part of the excitement, she reckoned.

"I'll have to think on it." he finally added.

And think on it, he did. But over the next few weeks, nothing came to him. It didn't help matters that when school started, Rhonda went back to work, their daughter was back full time from her various summer activities and Greg's work had picked up to a feverish pace.

Still, he'd wasted no time putting together the greatest hits video he joked about. By October they had watched some or all of it countless times, late at night after Genie had gone to bed. And it truly never got old.

For Rhonda's part, her libido didn't slow down any, it just got buried in work and household/parental duties. She still carried extra panties in her purse as the sight of random construction workers, or even a slightly pudgy cop directing traffic one time, could start her leaking again.

She was relieved to find that her worries about her lewd behavior affecting her professional life, or worse, her relationship with her daughter, had been unfounded. Rhonda seemed to be naturally good at compartmentalizing when it came to the subject.

Although, there had been one occasion where a brief chat with the school's new, young tennis coach had her scurrying off to the ladies room to change her underwear. Midway through the process, she decided to rub herself off right there in the stall. It had only taken a minute and a half at most, but another staff member came into the bathroom and she was forced to bite her lower lip almost to the point of drawing blood to remain silent while riding out her orgasm.

Rhonda had briefly, oh so very briefly, considered telling Greg about the coach but quickly decided not to mention the incident at all for fear of work and pleasure dangerously mixing. Too bad for the coach, she concluded. She was sure he'd been checking her out.

Just about the time she began to metabolize the idea that their summer adventures had been a phase that they were moving on from, Greg declared that it was game time.

Veterans Day created a long weekend for school and Greg and Max decided to shut all their jobs down for three days also. Rhonda arranged for their daughter to spend two nights at her parents house and Greg made reservations for the two of them at a fancy hotel in a city two hours away that they rarely had any occasion to visit.

Other than the location and time frame, Rhonda had no clue what his plan was. In spite of this, during the week leading up to it, she got wet every time she thought about it.

The last two days before they were scheduled to leave town, she had to carry twice the normal number of extra pairs of panties. She felt certain that she was having a positive impact on the quarterly earnings of at least three different undergarment manufacturers.

On the drive to the hotel, Greg still didn't give much in the way of specifics, other than to say that on the first night they would be doing a variation on what they had done in a hotel previously, and that he had some ideas about something different for the second night.

He sounded almost apologetic about the repeated game but Rhonda managed to reassure him without giving away how aroused she was at the idea of two different adventures in as many nights.

After checking in, they had a light and early dinner before returning to their room to put her outfit together. And Greg had her going full slut this time.

When he was done, she was in a shimmering, silver top with a thin strap that ran around the back of her neck and another that tied at her back which was otherwise completely exposed. The thing hung loosely in the front and draped over her big tits.

The blouse offered zero support and her jugs wobbled and swayed ridiculously with every step she took. This effect was exacerbated by her giant stilettos that raised her to almost average height for a woman and caused her gate to be somewhat more bouncy than normal.

Her husband had also selected a stretchy, skin tight, black miniskirt that actually had the pleasing side effect of holding her midriff in, which she feared had become a bit more pronounced since the last time they'd done anything like this.

Rhonda didn't have a terribly large collection of jewelry but Greg insisted she bring along all of her boldest pieces for him to peruse.

She ended up decked out in several large, Gothic rings that she hadn't worn in years, big hoop earrings, a few jangly bracelets and an anklet featuring crescent moon and star pendants.

When it came to a necklace, this he provided himself. It was a fairly simple, black lace choker.

She asked him about it while he was clasping it for her.

"I don't know, really." he replied. "I've just always associated chokers like this with girls who like to suck dick. I'm not sure if there's a legitimate connection there or it's just me."

Rhonda looked at him skeptically and he playfully pointed out that in her case, it's not like it was false advertisement.

The final piece of the ensemble was an, honest to God, pair of red crotchless underwear.

"I didn't even know they made these anymore." Rhonda observed.

"Yep. One of the rules for tonight is that you have to keep them on the whole time." Greg said, admiring her while she shimmied into them.

"I don't know why exactly, they've just always seemed trashy hot to me." he added.

"I feel like you might be trying to live out some prepubescent fantasies here." she said, looking at him sideways.

Once Rhonda was fully dressed, a phrase that gave her an ironic smile as she examined herself in a full length mirror, she asked about a jacket.

"No jacket."

She was taken aback some. The ludicrous top was totally scandalous. She had assumed that she would be wearing something over it, at least for her entrance to the hotel bar.

"You know, I might get arrested in this thing, especially when I'm walking in it. Or even just breathing."

"Well if you do," Greg responded, "I expect you to offer to do anything to get out of it."

Rhonda's laughter fizzled when she became uncertain about whether he was joking or not. Before she could ask, Greg proceeded to explain the rest of the plan.

She was to get herself picked up by a guy or guys again, but this time she would explain that her husband would be accompanying them back to their own suite to observe and record the encounter.

At this point Greg produced a fancy looking, little, 4K camcorder which he set next to the room's TV. Finally, he added that if, by chance, her target wasn't okay with this, she was to move on to someone who was.

Rhonda's stomach fluttered at the idea of Greg being in the same room while she fucked someone else. Of course, he'd seen her in action live, on the hidden cameras months before, but live in the same room, where she could see his face, that was going to be new.

Then her husband, straight up, rubbed his hands together like a movie villain.

"I'll see you in the bar in about 20 minutes." he said.

With a quick peck on her cheek and smack on her ass, he was gone from the suite.

Rhonda looked herself over in the full length mirror again.

She wiggled her torso gently and the tiny, silver sequins on the draped, backless top caught the light, creating dancing reflections on every surface in front of her. Her tits were like two jiggly disco balls she realized.

She was probably more concerned about this outfit than she had been about answering her front door wearing only a thin tank top and panties when the teenage boys had arrived. Of course, the nerves and excitement were also a turn on.

A few minutes later in the hotel's richly appointed bar, Greg was in a seat with a good view of the space and he was again using his laptop in the same way that sneaky people of yesteryear used to use newspapers. This time, instead of a defunct contract, he was surreptitiously watching some of the video clips of his wife cavorting with two strangers in the previous hotel they'd stayed in.

While their current plan didn't necessarily up the ante from their past exploits, Greg found that he was getting pretty wound up anyway, and he was anxious to see how the crowd that had already formed in the bar was going to react to Rhonda's entrance.

The place was big enough that it had two bar counters and a collection of tables. He'd gotten a seat near the end of the horseshoe shaped counter where he could still observe the straight bar along the wall behind him. Unless his wife ended up very close to him, Greg doubted he was going to be able to catch much of her conversation in the large, noisy place.

When Rhonda was still about five minutes out, a rather eclectic group of four men took a table right behind Greg forcing him to angle his screen lest they see him watching homemade porn in a public place.

They immediately began talking in hushed tones about some sort of crisis.

"So what exactly happened?"

This was a gentleman in perhaps his early 60's with a full head of gray hair and a slightly darker salt and pepper goatee.

"The stripper called in sick."

This was delivered flatly by a much younger, tall, black man whose buzz cut was so short that, for all intents and purposes, he was bald.

The third man to speak was the other member of the African American half of the group, and he looked to be younger still than the previous man. Perhaps in his mid twenties.

"Don't they have somebody else they can send?"

"They said it's a Saturday night and all the other girls are booked up."