tagLoving WivesAll the World is a Stage

All the World is a Stage


After five years of marriage, sex with Marsha had become stale, John thought. With his eyes closed, and his hands clasp behind his head, some of Marsha's comments the last few days ran through his mind. She, he was sure, had come to the same conclusion about their ho-hum sex. She hinted, more and more, that she wanted to try new things. He wondered just how far that she would go.

That night he told her that he wanted to tie her to the bed. To his surprise, she gladly agreed. She did not protest when he put a blindfold on her.

Seeing her lying there helpless, with her tits and pussy exposed, gave him the hardest hard-on that he had experienced with her in a year. He played with her tits. He was really enjoying this, as he sat there with the light on examining her pussy, while running his fingers in and out of it. He was caught off guard when she bucked her ass in the air, thrashing as she cum.

With a wry smile, he opened her dresser drawer. She had a black cock shaped vibrator. All of it was buried into her snatch. Soon she was bucking and thrashing again. His cock replaced the vibrator.

Later, as they lie side by side in bed, Marsha stroked his forehead. She kissed him. Softly, she said, "That was really nice tonight. I'll try any new ideas that you think of."

New ideas? John thought.

Two days later, he could tell that Marsha was really horny.

"Okay cunt, on the bed."

"Yes Master," she said in mock reverence.

Once tied and blindfolded, he whispered in her ear. "You need this. I'll be gone for a few minutes. Then, your pussy is going to get a real workout."

She heard the door open and close.

John went to the bathroom. He covered his short hair with a wig. He doused himself with cologne unlike any he had ever owned. He carefully wrapped his cock with soft rubber, which doubled its girth. He covered it with a large condom.

Laughing to himself, he returned to the bedroom. Checking the time, he turned on his "voice note recorder." In exactly four minutes, his voice would be heard coming from the area of the easy chair across the room saying; "Put it to her, Danny!" Lastly, he picked up a string that was tied to a chair. He lay the end close to Marsha's lovely body. Now, the fun was to start.

Marsha was lying with a bemused smile on her face. John got onto the bed. Kneeling between her legs he started to nibble around her pussy. At two minutes, her clit had been nibbled and licked. A smile played on John's lips as he noted, upon looking at Marsha's face, that she had a serious look, and her lips were parted as though she was about to say something. Yes, Marsha, a person with long hair is eating you. Your John keeps his very short, John thought.

At exactly three minutes and fifty-seven seconds, he pulled the string making the chair slid across the oak flooring on the other side of the room. Marsha tensed. Someone is on the bed! Someone is across the room! Then John's voice could be heard, huskily, sexually aroused, from across the room saying, "Put it in her, Danny."

A thick cock was pressed into Marsha. The "Fucker's" long hair dangled on her face. His body would lift clear of her, and then slam down driving that cock deeply into her. Marsha knew. She absolutely knew that a stranger was fucking her, as her husband sat across the room cheering him on.

Her pussy was in need of a hard, wild fucking. The licking and biting of her cunt had her on the edge before she was entered. There was no holding back now. Stranger or not, Marsha's body shook with an orgasm that started in her stomach, and progressed to her tits, ass, legs and toes. She pulled, twisted, and bucked against her restrains as the cock continued to stretch her cunt. Suddenly all was still. Slowly he got off the bed, as the chair across the room also made a noise. The door opened and closed. Marsha was alone, with a lot to think about.

John took a quick shower. He hid his attachments in the garage. Wanting a second fuck, he mounted Marsha when he returned. Easily, he slid into her still soaking cunt. Lazily, he stroked the full length of his cock in and out of her, as he had done five hundred times before. Marsha clamped her cunt tightly around his cock. Well, I know one thing, he mused to himself. She is not pissed.

Finished, he untied her. Naked, propped up on her elbows, she stared at him as though seeing him for the first time.

"Did you enjoy the evening?"

Slightly flushing, Marsha answered in a whisper, "Yes."

That was not the answer John expected. Instead, he thought that she would ask if it was really a stranger. Who was he?

Strangely, the next day, Marsha did not ask about who had fucked her. John completely misunderstood why. Marsha had lain awake all night thinking of her husband bringing a strange man into their bedroom to fuck her, as she lay helpless on the bed. The excitement of it grew and grew as she pictured in her mind any number of men that John might have picked to do this. Was his name really Danny? John had not told her who it was. Was that the way it would be? Was that the only way that John would allow another man to have her? She hungered to be had, yes ravished, again.

For John it was a finished deal. When Marsha failed to ask who had fucked her last night, John took it to mean that she had figured out that it was he. Certainly, he had no intention of letting another man fuck his wife. When Marsha shyly mentioned how much she had enjoyed the mystery of the sex the other night, a few days later, John responded, "I'll bring Danny or one of his friends over one of these days to give you a proper fucking again"

Her mind raced; Danny, friends, proper fucking? Oh, Oh, what was he planning? It was so exciting not knowing. She knew that John would not let anyone hurt her. Sometime during each day, she would stop her work, take off her panties, close her eyes, and finger herself as her mind pictured men opening her legs while their cocks dangled between their legs. She would moan, as the imaginary man would slide his cock into her. That usually brought her to orgasm.

John, who was busy with his work, plus playing golf, which he dearly loved, let the whole thing slip from his mind, or so it seemed.

John's company had its three-day fellowship retreat starting July 20th. It was held at the "Royal Gardens" resort outside Cleveland. Singles and couples from all the offices located in Ohio, Indiana, and Michigan were to attend.

One of John's best friends, from an office twenty miles from John's, Marsha knew as "Buzzy" Johnson. They met him when they entered the lounge for the "Happy hour." Upon seeing Buzzy's nametag, Marsha felt herself flush, as her pussy got wet. It read, Daniel "Buzzy" Johnson. He had to be the Danny! He had to be the man her husband had arranged to fuck her. It was a natural choice. Living far enough away to not interfere with their daily life, a friend. It all fit, or so she thought.

As the night progressed, Marsha could not take her eyes of Daniel, most especially his groin. Several times he caught her looking at his crotch. Danny had fucked his share of women. He knew when one was on the make. He knew he could fuck her. John being a friend or no, he decided to aggressively go after Marsha. Later that night, he got his chance. John loved to play poker. Daniel knew that at these retreats, a poker game would start at ten PM, which would last until three AM. He observed John leave with five other men to start the game. From across the room he studied Marsha. She was tall, with a nice figure, if you ignored the fact that she did not have a tit to her name. She would be considered pretty by anyone's standards. From what he remembered from chatting with John while playing golf, they had never had children, so her pussy would be tight.

From across the room, he caught her looking at him. He turned to squarely face her while his eyes held her gaze. He grinned as he saw her flush. She was new to the game, but had the moxie to maintain eye contact. He smiled. She returned his smile. Daniel knew that it was a done deal.

Picking up his brandy, he sauntered across the room. Marsha's eyes never left his face. She was sweating. Her knees were weak. She trembled. Her pussy was wet. Though not a complete thought, as such, she understood that she would allow this man to have her, as she had fantasized so often. It was finally going to happen. She too had seen her husband join the men for poker. John must have told Daniel that he could have her for the next several hours.

"Care to join me for a little walk?"


It was a short walk to his cabin. In the center of the room, he kissed her. She noticed that his hair was not very long. "Have you shortened your hair?"

Thinking about the fact that he had done so three years ago, Daniel answered, "Yes."

That satisfied Marsha. Her dress was unzipped and lowered. Her bra and panties removed.

"Be right with you. Have to pee."

Marsha lie on her back on the bed. She was trembling with excitement.

Daniel's cock was fully erect when he appeared from the bathroom. He turned off the light. John had always been a delicate considerate lover. Daniel like to use his will muscled body to use, even abuse, a woman. His cock was larger then many women found comfortable. He would start slowly. Then would come the singular hard thrusts to stretch, extend the woman. It turned him on to hear their sudden moans as their attention went from just having an orgasm to being a sexual being with all their insides feeling invaded, used until they convulsed in a total orgasm that would forever change their view of the sex act. He made sure that he ravished a woman.

It was exactly what Marsha had dreamed about. She got it. Once, twice, three, four times, she was used as a cock holder for Daniel's pleasure. At just after two AM, Marsha staggered to her own cabin. Her insides were sore. Her legs were chafed. Cum ran down her leg. She showered, and had just fallen asleep, when John retuned.

"You look tired?" Daniel's good buddy Tom Ashford asked the next day. Smiling, Daniel replied, "You would be tired if you fucked a horny broad four times. I was going at it from 10:30 until 2:00."

"Who were you fucking, Big Guy?"

Seeing Marsha lounging on the other side of the pool, Dan pointed with his glass at her. "The one in the blue bathing suit is John's wife. Fucks like a rabbit."


"All you have to do is ask."

Tom thought a minute. "I think that John has to attend the zone manager's meeting tonight from six until eleven. Should I try to get some?"

Daniel shrugged. "I have to go to the same dinner/meeting, so she is all yours. Most of the women went on an all day tour. She was probably too sore, so stayed here to get some sun, and rest her pussy. She is a good fuck."

Later, alone, Marsha was sitting at an outside table enjoying the buffet dinner, when Tom strode over to her table. "May I sit with you? I am Tom Ashford."

He is good looking; Marsha thought as she replied, "Sure, have a seat. I'm Marsha. What office are you with?" John had all ready left for the evening. There was no one nearby that she knew, so she was comfortable speaking to this Tom, even flirting a bit.

"I'm with the Detroit office."

"Your wife could not make it?"

"We have three kids, so she likes to stay home, instead of coming to these "Horse and Pony" shows.

They both laughed. Marsha knew that she would allow this man to fuck her, if he cared to ask. It was so exciting. Did John send this man her way too? John was so wonderful to give her this new freedom to explore her sexuality. Her pussy got wet. Her eyes locked on Tom's

After they finished eating, Tom took her to the lounge for two dances. Testing her, He took the three-dollar tit rub, and the five-dollar, hand across the flat of her ass. Marsha did not complain, nor try to pull away. He ran his leg against her cunt. Marsha closed her eyes, as a sigh escaped her lips. Tom smiled. It was time to fuck.

Marsha knew that it would be after eleven when John returned. She preferred to be fucked in her own room, so she took Tom there.

It was as good as Daniel had said it would be. Tom had her legs cradled in the crook of his arm, with her cunt facing the ceiling. He would slide down and then slide forward forcefully, until his cock bottomed. He would then thrust his ass to bury himself up to the balls in her soft, tight, gripping, hair covered cunt. Tom had downed three martinis just before they started, so he went for a solid thirty minutes of hard fucking, before he cum the first time. Never before had Marsha been fucked so hard for so long. She was exhausted from her several orgasms.

After chatting for twenty minutes, they begin to fuck again. "Stop, wait, I hear something," Marsha whispered. They both heard a car door slam. Several male voices were heard.

Tom bounded from the bed. "Damn meeting must have got out early," he said as he gathered up his clothes, and scurried into the bathroom.

Marsha gathered a hand full of tissue. She wiped the cum off her cunt, and threw the tissue into the toilet. She closed the door to the bathroom. She covered herself. John put his key in the door to open it.

"Hi Baby, how are you doing?" He said as he put down his briefcase, and removed his suit.

"I'm really tired. Got a lot of sun today."

John entered the bathroom. Marsha expected that Tom was still there, but there were no words from John. John took a shower. When he came into the bedroom, he said, "Hey, that was a good idea leaving the bathroom window open so it does not get all fogged up in there."

Marsha could picture in her mind a naked Tom crawling out of the window, running to his cabin, with his cock flopping in the breeze. He was a good fucker. It was fun.

A month later, Marsha was sitting on the edge of her bed fingering herself. She had an assortment of sexual experiences to turn herself on. It struck her that John's only fun was hearing all about her being fucked. That is, if he had asked either Daniel or Tom the details about fucking her. Shaking her head, she concluded that John would not want to know. He had never asked if she had fucked anyone before him.

She resolved that she would arrange for John to fuck another woman. But who should it be? Should she ask her old apartment mate, Betty? How about Mary Lou, who had been a neighbor, and now lived ten miles a way? Her divorced sister, Jean, was a possibility? She finally concluded that Jean was the right choice. Often, Jean had said to her "John really turns me on." When they were both drunk, a month before she and John were married, Jean had told her, "I would fuck John in a heartbeat, if I had the chance." They had both giggled, since both took it as a joke, women talk.

Later that week, she brought the subject up, while sitting with Jean in her living room. "Would you be interested in having sex with John if he was blindfolded, never to know it was you?"

It was several seconds before Jean spoke. She carefully studied Marsha's face. "What brought this on?"

"You didn't answer my question."

Jean let out a low, sultry laugh. "Okay, I'll give you an answer. Yes, I would enjoy fucking John. What brought this about?"

Marsha filled Jean in on the facts, as she knew them. Of course, her facts and the real facts were light-years apart.

Marsha and John own a cabin. On December 18th they went there. Marsha told John. "I have a surprise for you. I want to play a game like you did when I was tied to the bed."

"You want to tie me to the bed?"

"No, I want to blindfold you. Then, I want to tape gloves on your hands. You have to agree not to take them off, or remove the blindfold. If you agree to that, you are in for some great sex."

John got a big grin on his face. He looked at Marsha standing there. He was really happy that she was trying to set up something that would excite him.

Off came his clothes. On went the blindfold, and gloves, which were taped in place. John was led to the bed. "Just stay there Stud. It will be a few minutes. John heard the front door to the cabin open and close. He reclined on the bed. His cock thickened, as it started to twitch, harden.

Outside, Marsha whispered to Jean. "How long do you want him?"

"Three hours should be long enough."

The front door opened. There was a cool breeze. The faint fragrance of Jean's perfume filled the room. The bed squeaked. A mouth latched onto his cock. Marsha had never done that!

A hand ran up and down his shaft. A body straddled his legs. A wet, hot cunt was lowered slowly onto his shaft.

"Wonderful. Baby," he whispered, as suddenly the hips of the woman shot forward, and back violently, as she rose and fell on his cock. His hands found the contours of her ass, then her waist. His cock thrust up to meet her cunt with a slapping noise. She moaned. He grunted from the effort. He rolled her on her back. His cock was plunged to the balls, deep in her. Faster and faster them rode, joined at her cunt, sweat dripping, riding the waves of passion.

When cum mixed with cunt juice, they rolled onto their backs. Jean laughed, as she intoned, while playing with his cock. "You are crafty. I've never heard of a man convincing his wife to ask other women to fuck her husband."

"Give me a couple more months. I'll convince her that she wants to have her sister live in our house to keep her company, as well as entertain her husband."

Giggling uproariously, Jean opened her legs to receive him, as she had done so many times before.

I'm Softly.

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by TonyKiwi08/29/17

Sir Walter Scott

'O, what a tangled web we weave when first we practise to deceive.'
Then come tears and heart break. TK

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